trade my soul for a wish

[from_scratch]

This is a successor to "call me maybe", which is getting crowded.

Cam is dipping a grilled cheese sandwich into a bowl of tomato soup when he feels the summons. He goes ahead and grabs it. Doesn't even drop the sandwich.


with Mark (kappa)

with Adanya (Aestrix)

with Sable (kappa)

with Ari (andaisq)

with Metella (kappa)

with Miles (kappa)

with Isabella (Eva)

with Steel (Rockeye)

with Daphne (Maggie)

with Edie (Maggie)

Comments

[unmarred]

"Baron Ryoval. Political organization there, such as it is, divides into Houses ruled by Barons. Each House has one or more particular specialties or niches; Ryoval's is prostitution and custom-engineered bio-slaves. House Bharaputra does biologicals more generally; they're the primary supplier for the clone-transplant business. House Fell does weapons; Baron Fell is getting on in years, and might be our most eager customer if we can find him a trustworthy surgeon - the last clone he had commissioned was assassinated before the operation, so he is understandably cautious. I suspect I might know what Miles did to piss off Ryoval, actually; rumour has it that something catastrophic happened to the collection of tissue samples he uses to generate his wares, a few years back. Now that I know he's annoyed with Admiral Naismith about something, that rumour smells of a Miles-accident."

[from_scratch]

"When we show up and the pilot leaves with the shiny new ship, what are our options for finding places to park ourselves?"

[unmarred]

"All the orbital stations are under the direct control of one House or another; territorial boundaries on the ground are slightly more fluid. I'd be tempted to ask for lodgings with Fell, actually. Baron Fell and Baron Ryoval are half-brothers and have a longstanding feud, and I did mention Fell is likely to be interested in our product. For maximum security, conjure us yet another ship and dock it at Fell Station; that way we have mobility and privacy that we would not retain if we lived in the station itself. And it'll be cheaper. But cost won't be such a problem once we get going."

He smiles.

"I'm actually toying with the notion of founding our own House. All you really need to found a Jacksonian House is money, guts, and a name no one else is using. And I'm reluctant to throw my own name around somewhere Admiral Naismith's presence has been felt; 'Baron Holmes', or whatever, would be a nice alternative."

[from_scratch]

"Cute. Why are you the baron instead of me, though? You can presumably go by a pseudonym that isn't preceded by a title."

[unmarred]

"'Baron Holmes' gives me an identity that is related to neither Miles Vorkosigan nor Miles Naismith - an obviously assumed identity, but an implicitly permanent and unique one. A mere pseudonym would invite speculation that I was one or the other of them, almost certainly Naismith, undercover for reasons of his own. It is not healthy to be mistaken for someone Ry Ryoval has a grudge against, and it would be unfair to Miles to parade myself around as Mark Vorkosigan. And you don't have a hundredth of the background knowledge and cultural understanding you'd need to competently negotiate with other barons; the title would be wasted on you."

[from_scratch]

"I'm mostly wondering if being a baron is the sort of thing that tends to get you assassination attempts, which I can cope with better than you. If that's fine by you, eh, go for it."

[unmarred]

"Of course it will," he says with a shrug. "Hm, come to think, I could use a personal nerve-disruptor shield net. A cleverly disguised one, especially. If you can produce one in my size; I don't think they come that way naturally and I'm not sure how much clever engineering work you can elide over."

[from_scratch]

"I should be able to resize one; I will need more information to camouflage it."

[unmarred]

"It's a very expensive full-body garment that defends the wearer against a certain common type of lethal or permanently disabling weapon," he says. "They can be made to fit under other clothing, but it's usually pretty easy to tell who's wearing one, if you know what signs to look for. You might have an easier time than usual coming up with a shield net and set of clothes that worked well together. And it wouldn't cost much to produce a second set with no hood for when I want to appear marginally more trusting."

[from_scratch]

"If I'm doing elaborate fashion design I'm gonna need a picture."

[unmarred]

"And what would you need to produce one of those...?"

[from_scratch]

"Sufficient information to single out a specific picture by non-contrived means, 'contrived' including things like 'the most recent one taken' or anything like that."

[unmarred]

"Mm. Not sure I can deliver. You could make one in your size and stare at it to your heart's content," he suggests as an alternative.

[from_scratch]

"Yeah, sure." And Cam makes one and looks it over.

[unmarred]

It's a hooded bodysuit made of what looks like a loosely woven fabric of incredibly fine silvery wires. The overall effect is very... glittery. Visually distinctive. And the fabric/netting is a little stiff; it would show pretty easily under tight clothing.

"A sufficiently well-calibrated scanner will pick it up anyway, but there's no sense going around advertising it more than I need to," says Mark. "So I want something to wear over it that'll look natural."

[from_scratch]

"Now, how do these work? If the wires are this thick because the substance isn't sufficiently ductile, I can get it a lot thinner, maybe weave it into some normal fabric; if it needs to be shaped exactly like this all I'm thinking is heavy denim and leather."

[unmarred]

Mark shrugs. "I'm not an engineer. I know that they exist, I know that they work, I know how to spot them, and that's as much as I know. I'm sure there are manuals somewhere, but I couldn't specify one."

[from_scratch]

"Then refining the design any will probably have to wait until I do find a way to specify such a book."

The pilot announces over the comm: "Jump in five, gentlemen."

[unmarred]

"Wormhole jumps are mildly unsettling for most people," says Mark. "Might want to be sitting down. If you're unlucky enough to get jumpsick, might want to have something to throw up in and somewhere to lie down afterward. If the jump feels like it lasts longer than a couple of seconds, or you get sensory aftereffects besides nausea, you might have jump pilot potential and we should look into finding a trustworthy neurosurgeon once we're rich enough to afford one."

[from_scratch]

"Noted. It'd be mildly interesting if it turned out to be able to get me sick. Do you get sick and need something to throw up in?"

[unmarred]

"I'll be fine."

[from_scratch]

"Here goes, then."

The jump commences.

After it concludes:

"Trippy."

[unmarred]

"Trippy in a way that suggests pilot potential? Impressive special effects?"

[from_scratch]

"Seeing music. Very pretty. I may experiment with trying to play it later."

[unmarred]

"Yeah, that sounds pilotish."