Lois Bujold - Komarr

“How do you normally set up such a schedule?”

Anafi appeared surprised at this measured response. Had he dealt with Tien before this? He unbent slightly, leaning back in his chair. “Well… we normally calculate a percentage of the customer’s salary, mitigated by any available collateral they may be able to offer.”

I have no salary. I have no possessions. Anafi, she suspected, would not be pleased to learn this. “Tien… died in an accident last night. Things are in some disarray here today.”

Anafi looked taken aback. “Oh. I’m sorry, Madame,” he managed.

“I don’t suppose… was the loan insured?”

“I’ll check, Madame Vorsoisson. Let us hope…” Anafi turned to his comconsole; after a moment, he frowned. “I’m sorry to say, it was not.”

Ah, Tien. “How should I pay it back?”

Anafi was silent a long moment, as if thinking. “If you would be willing to cosign for the loan, I could set up a payment schedule today for you.”

“You can do that?”

At a tentative knock on the door frame of her workroom, she glanced around. Lord Vorkosigan had returned and stood leaning in the opening. How long had he been standing there? He gestured inside, and she nodded. He walked in and eyed Anafi over her shoulder. “Who is this guy?” he murmured.

“His name’s Anafi. He’s from the company Tien owes for the fleet shares loan.”

“Ah. Allow me.” He stepped up to the comconsole and tapped in a code. The view split, and a gray-haired man with colonel’s tabs and Eye-of-Horus pins on his green uniform collar appeared.

“Colonel Gibbs,” said Lord Vorkosigan genially. “I have some more data for you regarding Administrator Vorsoisson’s financial affairs. Ser Anafi, meet Colonel Gibbs. ImpSec. He has a few questions for you. Good day.”

“ImpSec!” said Anafi in startled horror. “ImpSec? What does-” He blipped out at Lord Vorkosigan’s flourishing gesture.

“No more Anafi,” he said, with some satisfaction. “Not for the next several days, anyway.”

“Now, was that nice?” asked Ekaterin, amused in spite of herself. “They loaned that money to Tien in all good faith.”

“Nevertheless, don’t sign anything till you take legal advice. If you knew nothing of the loan, it’s possible Tien’s estate is liable for it, and not you. His creditors must squabble with each other for the pieces, and when it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“But there’s nothing in Tien’s estate but debts.” And dishonor.

“Then the squabble will be short.”

“But is it fair?”

“Death is an ordinary business risk-in some businesses more than others, of course…”He smiled briefly. “Ser Anafi was getting ready to have you sign on the spot. This suggests to me that he was perfectly aware of his risk, and thought he might hustle you into taking over a debt not rightfully yours while you were still in shock. Not fair. In fact, not ethical at all. Yes, I think we can leave him to ImpSec.”

This was all rather high-handed, but… it was hard not to respond to the enthusiastic glint in Vorkosigan’s eye as he’d annihilated her adversary.

“Thank you, Lord Vorkosigan. But I really need to learn how to do these things for myself.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed without the least hesitation. “I wish Tsipis were here. He’s been my family’s man of business for thirty years. He adores tutoring the uninitiated. If I could turn him loose on you, you’d be up to speed in no time, and he’d be just ecstatic. I’m afraid he found me a frustrating pupil in my youth. I only wanted to learn about the military. He finally managed to smuggle in some economic education by presenting it as logistics and supply problems.” He leaned against the comconsole desk, and crossed his arms, and tilted his head. “Do you think you will be returning to Barrayar anytime soon?”

“Just as soon as I possibly can. I can hardly bear being in this place.”

“I think I understand. Where, ah, would you go, on Barrayar?”

She stared broodingly at the empty vid-plate. “I’m not sure yet. Not to my father’s household.” To be crammed back into the status of a child again… She pictured herself arriving penniless and without resources, to batten upon her father or one of her brothers. They’d let her batten, all right, generously, but they would also act as if her dependence deprived her of rights and dignity and even intelligence. They would then arrange her life for her own good… “I’m sure I’d be welcome, but I’m afraid his solution to my problems would be to try to marry me off again. The idea makes me gag, just now.”

“Oh,” said Lord Vorkosigan.

A brief silence fell.

“What would you do if you could do anything?” he asked suddenly. “No limited resources to juggle, no practical considerations. Anything at all.”

“I don’t… I usually start with the possible, and pare away from there.”

“Try for more scope.” A vague wave of his arm taking in the planet from zenith to horizon indicated his idea of scope.

She thought back, all the way back, to the point in her life where she had made that fatal wrong turn. So many years lost. “Well. I suppose… I would go back to university. But this time, I’d know what I was about. Formal training in horticulture and in art, for garden design; chemistry and biochemistry and botany and genetic manipulation. Real expertise, the kind that means you can’t be intimidated or, or… persuaded to go along with something stupid because you think everyone in the universe knows more than you do.” She frowned ruefully.

“So you could design gardens for pay?”

“More than that.” Her eyes narrowed, as she struggled for her inner vision.

“Planets? Terraforming?”

“Oh, good heavens. That training takes ten years, and another ten years of internship beyond it, before you can even begin to grasp the complexities.”

“So? They have to hire someone. Good God, they hired Tien.”

“He was only an administrator.” She shook her head, daunted.

“All right,” he said cheerfully. “Bigger than a garden, smaller than a planet. That still leaves sufficient scope, I’d say. A Barrayaran District could be a good start. One with incomplete terraforming, say, and, and forestry projects, and, oh, damaged land reclamation, and a crying need for a touch of beauty. And,” he went on, “you could work up to planets.”

She had to laugh. “What is this obsession with planets? Will nothing smaller do, for you?”

“Elli Qu-a friend of mine used to say, ‘Aim high. You may still miss the target but at least you won’t shoot your foot off.’” His grin winked at her. He hesitated, then said more slowly, “You know… your father and brothers aren’t your only relatives. The Professor and the Professora are boundless in their enthusiasm for education. You can’t convince me they wouldn’t be pleased to shelter you and Nikki in their home while you got your new start. And you’d be right there in Vorbarr Sultana, practically next door to the University and, um, everything. Good schools for Nikki.”

She sighed. “It would be such a lovely change for him to stay in one place for a while. He could finally cultivate friends he wouldn’t have to abandon. But… I’ve come to despise dependency.”

He eyed her shrewdly. “Because it betrayed you?”

“Or lured me into betraying myself.”

“Mm. But surely there is a qualitative difference between, um, a greenhouse and a cryo-chamber. Both provide shelter, but the first promotes growth, while the second merely, um…” He seemed to have become a little tangled in his metaphor.

“Retards decay?” Ekaterin politely tried to help unwind him.