Ive not yet lost a parent, said Vorkosigan. Grandparents are different, I think. They are old, its their destiny, somehow. I was shaken when my grandfather died, but my world was not. I think my fathers was, though.
Yes, she looked up gratefully, thats the difference exactly. Its like an earthquake. Something that isnt supposed to move suddenly dumps you over. I think the world is going to be a scarier place for Nikki this morning.
Have you hit him with his Vorzohns Dystrophy news yet?
Im letting him sleep. Ill tell him after breakfast. I know better than to stress a kid who has low blood sugar.
Odd, I feel the same way about troops. Is there anything can I help? Or would you prefer to be private?
Im not sure. He doesnt have school today anyway. Werent you taking my uncle out to the experiment station this morning?
Directly. It can wait an extra hour for this.
I think I would like it if you can stay. Its not good to make of the disease something all secret thats too awful to even talk about. That was Tiens mistake.
Yes, he said encouragingly. Its just a thing. You deal with it.
Her brows rose. As in, one damn thing after another?
Yes, very like. He smiled at her, his gray eyes crinkling. Through whatever combination of luck and clever surgery, no scars marred his face, she realized. It works, as tactics if not strategy.
True to his offer, Lord Vorkosigan drifted back into her kitchen as Nikki was finishing his breakfast. He lingered suggestively, stirring the coffee he took black and leaning against the far counter. Ekaterin took a deep breath and settled beside Nikki at the table, her own half-empty and cold cup a mere prop. Nikki eyed her warily.
You wont be going to school tomorrow, she began, hoping to strike a positive note.
Is that when Das funeral is? Will I have to burn the offering?
Not yet. Your Grandmadame has asked that we bring his body back to Barrayar, to bury beside your uncle who died when you were little. Tiens mothers return message had come in by comconsole this morning, beamed and jumped through the wormhole-relays. In writing, as Ekaterins had been, and perhaps for similar reasons; writing allowed one to leave so much out. Well do all the ceremonies and burn the offering then, when everyone can be there.
Will we have to take him on the jumpship with us? asked Nikki, looking disturbed.
From the side of the room Lord Vorkosigan said, In fact, ImpS-the Imperial Civil Service will take care of all those arrangements, with your permission, Madame Vorsoisson. He will probably be back home before you are, Nikki.
Oh, said Nikki.
Oh, Ekaterin echoed. I I was wondering. I thank you.
He sketched a bow. Allow me to pass on your mother-in-laws address and instructions. You have enough other things to do.
She nodded, and turned back to her son. Anyway, Nikki you and I are going to Solstice tomorrow, to visit a clinic there. We never mentioned this to you before, but you have a condition called Vorzohns Dystrophy.
Nikki made an uncertain face. Whats that?
Its a disorder where, with age, your body stops making certain proteins in quite the right shape to do their job. Nowadays the doctors can give you some retrogenes that produce the proteins correctly, to make up for it. Youre too young to have any symptoms, and with this fix, you never will. At Nikkis age, and on the first pass, it was probably not yet necessary to go into the complications it would entail for his future reproduction. She noticed dryly how she had managed to get through the long-anticipated spiel without once using the word mutation. Ive collected a lot of articles about Vorzohns Dystrophy, which you can read when you want to. Some of them are too technical, but there are a couple I think you could get through with a little help. There. If she could avoid setting off his homework alarms, that ought to set up a reasonably neutral way to give him the information to which he had a right, and he could pursue it at his own pace thereafter.
Nikki looked worried. Will it hurt?
Well, they will certainly have to draw blood, and take some tissue samples.
Vorkosigan put in, Ive had both done to me, what seems like a thousand times over the years, for various medical reasons. The blood draw hurts for a moment, but not later. The tissue sampling doesnt hurt because they use a medical micro-stun, but when the stun wears off, it aches for a while. They only need a tiny sample from you, so it wont be much.
Nikki appeared to digest this. Do you have Vorzohns thing, Lord Vorkosigan?
No. My mother was poisoned with a chemical called soltoxin, before I was born. It damaged my bones, mainly, which is why Im so short. He wandered over to the table and sat down with them.
Ekaterin was expecting Nikkis next to be something along the lines of, Will I be short? but instead, his brown eyes widened in extreme worry. Did she die?
No, she recovered completely. Fortunately. For us all. Shes fine now.
He took this in. Was she scared?
Nikki, Ekaterin realized, had not yet sorted out just who Lord Vorkosigans mother was, in relation to the people hed heard about in his history lessons. Vorkosigans brows rose in some bemusement. I dont know. You can ask her yourself, someday, when-if you meet her. Id be fascinated to hear the answer. He caught Ekaterins unsettled gaze, but his eyebrows remained unrepentant.
Nikki regarded Lord Vorkosigan dubiously. Did they fix your bones with retrogenes?
No, mores the pity. It would have been much easier on me, if it had been possible. They waited till they thought I was done growing, and then they replaced them with synthetics.
Nikki was diverted. How dyou replace bones? How do you get them out?
Cut me open, Vorkosigan made a slicing motion with his right hand along his left arm from elbow to wrist, chop the old bone out, pop the new one in, reconnect the joints, transplant the marrow to the new matrix, glue it up and wait for it to heal. Very messy and tedious.
Did it hurt?
I was asleep-anesthetized. Youre lucky you can have retrogenes. All you have to have are a few fiddling injections.
Nikki looked vastly impressed. Can I see?
After an infinitesimal hesitation, Vorkosigan unfastened his shirt cuff and pushed back his left sleeve. That pale little line there, see? Nikki stared with interest, both at Vorkosigans arm and, speculatively, at his own. He wriggled his fingers, and watched his arm flex as the muscles and bones moved beneath his skin.
I have a scab, he offered in return. Want to see? Awkwardly, he pushed up his pant leg to display the latest playground souvenir on his knee. Gravely, Vorkosigan inspected it, and agreed it was a good scab, and would doubtless fall off very soon now, and yes, perhaps there would be a scar, but his mother was very right to tell him not to pick it. To Ekaterins relief, everyone then refastened their clothes and the contest went no further.
The conversation lagging after that high point, Nikki pushed a few last smears of groats and syrup artistically around the bottom of his dish, and asked, Can I be excused?
Of course, said Ekaterin. Wash the syrup off your hands, she called after his retreating form. She watched him-run, not walk-out, and said uncertainly, That went better than I expected.
Vorkosigan smiled reassurance. You were matter-of-fact, so you gave him no reason to be otherwise.
After a little silence Ekaterin said, Was she scared? Your mother.