He paused for a bite of bread and stew, washed down by wine, then went on, “Since assimilation is Gregor’s avowed policy, and he’s putting his Imperial person where his policy is… the question of motivation for sabotage becomes, er, complex. Could the saboteurs have been isolationist Barrayarans? Komarran extremists? Either, hoping to publicly throw the blame on the other? How emotionally attached is the average Komarran-in-the-dome to a goal whom none now living will ever survive to see realized, or would they rather save the money today? Sabotage versus accident makes no engineering difference, but does make a profound political one.” He and Uncle Vorthys exchanged a wry look.
“So I watch, and listen, and wait,” Vorkosigan concluded. He turned to Tien. “And how do you like Komarr, Administrator Vorsoisson?”
Tien grinned, and shrugged. “It’s all right except for the Komarrans. I’ve found them a damned touchy bunch.”
Vorkosigan’s brows twitched up. “Have they no sense of humor?”
Ekaterin glanced up warily, wincing at that dry edge in his drawling voice, but apparently it slipped past Tien, who only snorted. “They’re divided about equally between the greedy and the surly. Cheating Barrayarans is considered a patriotic duty.”
Vorkosigan raised his empty wineglass to Ekaterin. “And you, Madame Vorsoisson?”
She refilled it to the top before he could stop her, cautious of her reply. If her uncle was the technical expert in this Auditorial duo, did that leave Vorkosigan as the… political one? Who was really the senior member of the team? Had Tien caught any of the subtle flashing implications in the little lord’s speech? “It hasn’t been easy to make Komarran friends. Nikolai goes to a Barrayaran school. And I have no work as such.”