[ The trouble is, he doesn't know how much this clone knows. Except, perhaps, that surely an actual clone would probably know quite a bit more about the whole process than Miles himself would. His story is cobbled together from what details he had known before coming here - no specific research, after all - and wound together with enough bullshit to choke an elephant. It makes a pretty smooth tale to tell to outsiders, who know nothing about his world to begin with. Not so here.

He sucks in a breath, a flicker of uncertainty showing in his face. The fact of the matter is that he has no details to give. Better feign suspicion and ignorance. This is "Lord Vorkosigan" he's talking to, after all. Why should he tell the man a damn thing? He shifts, uncomfortably, onto his own too-short leg. ]

Why? Why do you care? I'm a threat, aren't I? Your damn Barrayaran lackeys sure thought so. I haven't had a moment's peace since I escaped.