"You've thought about this a lot, I see," said Miles neutrally, and pressed his hand to his lips to prevent the escape of any premature editorials.

Leiber's expression grew almost exalted. "It would have worked! We could have been safe, together. We wouldn't even have had to come back to Kibou, if we didn't want. With my credentials, I could have found a job, supported us both."

A slight, indignant disturbance of the curtain, Miles saw out of the corner of his eye. He carefully didn't turn his head that way.

Leiber cast a speculative look at Raven. "Maybe even a place like the Durona Group." His gaze grew more urgent. "Maybe, if you people could help me, it still could still work out-"

Leiber's heroic visions were abruptly interrupted by the curtain being yanked back, and Madame Sato pounding on the glass and yelling something, alas made unintelligible by the barrier. Miles pointed helpfully to his wristcom.

Leiber nearly fell off his chair. "Lisa!" he cried, whether gladly or in terror Miles wasn't sure.

Madame Sato apparently didn't get the message about the wristcom, because she clenched her fists and whirled to dodge out her booth door, instead. Raven lurched up to intercept her, although only to hastily make her don a filtering mask before their own booth door slammed open-Roic had prudently moved out of the way.

"Seiichiro Leiber, you moron!" cried Madame Sato, which was approximately what Miles had guessed she'd been trying to say, since he'd been hard-pressed not to say it himself. "What were you thinking? You were going to kidnap me, take me off-planet, and abandon my children? And trap me there, with no money to get home?"

"No, no!" said Leiber, rising hastily and turning his hands out in pleading. "It wasn't like that! Wasn't going to be like that!"

It had been going to be exactly like that, in Leiber's mind, Miles guessed. A princely rescue, with Leiber in the starring role, and the happily-ever-after, if not planned, at least much wished upon. Had Snow White in her glass coffin ever had a vote? Or a voice?

"Lisa, I know this was all my fault! I was going to make it right, I swear!"

Behind her mask, Miles thought Madame Sato was sputtering, almost beyond words. He could see her point. She snarled, "Make it right? Make it worse!"

Raven put in, "You know, upsetting and stressing a new revive is not good for their immune system. Or any other system."

Some milder exercise than towering rage was indicated, certainly. Strokes were another real possibility in the more fragile revives, Miles dimly recalled. Interested as he was in what more might be squeezed out of Leiber, it was time to intervene.

"Well, his plan is certainly thwarted now," Miles soothed her. "We'll have to see if we can't come up with something rather better." He jumped up and dragged Raven's chair around. "Please, Madame Sato, do sit down. I should be extremely glad of your input, at this point."

Out of breath, Madame Sato sank into the seat, her brown eyes still glaring at Leiber over the top of her filtering mask. Leiber, too, sank down, or maybe his knees gave way.

Madame Sato rubbed her furrowed forehead, a gesture that made Raven frown medically. Her voice drooped in exhaustion along with her body. "If the corps have grown so corrupt and above the law that they can get away not just with theft, but with murder, what hope is there left for Kibou?"

"Escape?" Leiber offered.

Her eyes shot sparks of scorn, over her mask. "Leaving my children to be chewed up in this maw?" She drew breath. "Everyone's children?"

Miles said mildly, "NewEgypt hasn't got away with murder yet. In fact, their very secrecy suggests they're still vulnerable on that point. A big enough stink bomb, suitably aimed, might still land on the target."

Madame Sato shook her head. Miles wasn't sure if her spasm of despair was the result of post-revival exhaustion, perfectly understandable under the circumstances, or of an acquaintance with Kibou-daini's troubles much deeper than his own. Raven's glower at him suggested the former, though.

"Roic," he said over his shoulder, "I want you to run a fast-penta interrogation on both those goons we have downstairs. Focus on the murders, but get as much else as you can, especially about their bosses. Shoot the recordings over to the consulate, secured link."

"Will such confessions be admissible to the local courts?"

"Mm, I need to think about that. The fact that we're not the local authorities may put a wrinkle in it. Vorlynkin can ask the consulate lawyer." Miles wondered what that as-yet-unmet woman was making of the recent stream of bizarre legal questions from her client. Well, it was doubtless time she earned her retainer. "In any case, I want to secure the evidence for my own purposes. Birds in the hand and all that."

"Do we still want to release them, after? If they're murderers?"

"It sounds as if they were amateurs, not contract killers. And bungling amateurs at that. Eh. Depends on what turns up in the interrogations. Raven can assist, but don't let them see him. No point in letting them know any more than they do already."

"And if either or both of them are allergic?"

An induced, and fatal, allergy to fast-penta was not uncommon among galactic covert operatives; Miles wasn't sure about these civilians. "Have Raven check first. The test patches are in my kit along with the fast-penta. If so, call me."

Roic nodded. Miles was confident in Roic's interrogation skills on criminal matters; this was one task he might safely delegate.

"The larger issues…" Miles's voice slowed. "I don't have a handle on yet. It's hard to see how this technology, widely adopted and combined with human nature, wouldn't run into the same traps everywhere, in due course. In a broader sense, this is Barrayar's problem, too, or will be." Good, he had an all-purpose defense for his expense reports for this case. That had been a minor but growing concern.

Roic scratched his head. "Thing is-everyone here's headed for the same end. If the higher-ups allow the whole system to get too corrupt, how do they expect to assure their own future revivals?"

"Never underestimate the human capacity for wishful thinking and willful blindness," said Miles. Such as a whole society of people who became so wrapped up in avoiding death, they forgot to be alive?

Roic tapped his fingers on his trouser seam. "Yeah, belike."

A motion caught Miles's eye-the outer door of the recovery room opening. Vorlynkin appeared, being anxiously towed by Jin and Mina.

Miles pointed. "Madame Sato, I believe you have some visitors."

Her head turned. She gasped, under her mask, and her eyes widened. She scrambled from her chair, Raven springing to the alert in case the sudden motion made her dangerously dizzy, but she was already banging out of the booth.

"Jin! Mina!"

"Mommy!"

The pair raced forward, but, since they did not let go of Vorlynkin, the man was pulled into a few long, unbalanced strides that brought him face to face with Madame Sato. She fell to one knee to clutch her children to her, first one, then the other, then both together, as hard as she could hug. Miles thought she might be crying. He made his way to the booth door and leaned on the jamb, watching. Even Jin, with all the austerity of his almost-twelve, didn't reject the huggy-kissy stuff now.

"Mina!" Madame Sato held her daughter a little away from herself, and stared over her mask. Her voice shook. "You've grown!"

For the first time, Miles thought, those eighteen missing months and what they'd stolen from her was brought home. Proof she could touch, not just words and more words.

She looked up at last, in some bewilderment, at Vorlynkin. "And who's this?"

Mina answered eagerly, "It's Vorlynkin-san, Mommy. He took care of us at his house. It has a great garden! All Jin's creatures like it, too." She grabbed Vorlynkin's hand and swung on it, without the least dismay on his part.