Miles gives her a slightly strained smile. "Spare yourself, Clara. All I get from the people around here are hex signs. Mutant paranoia. I've been getting it for as long as I can remember. Please don't freeze to death on my account."
He huffs out a breath, shaking his head, trying to figure out where to start. There were many people on the Moira he'd have liked to show his home to, Clara included, but not like this.
"Right, so," he starts, "this is Barrayar. My home planet. But it isn't my home time. That hard-faced man in his, oh, thirties or so in charge of the camp? That's my grandfather. Not that he's allowed to know it," he adds quickly, because oh God, this is some kind of time travel horseshit and thinking of the implications is giving him a headache. "This is, give or take, about sixty years before I was even born. And it's...not a great time to be vacationing on the planet."
no subject
He huffs out a breath, shaking his head, trying to figure out where to start. There were many people on the Moira he'd have liked to show his home to, Clara included, but not like this.
"Right, so," he starts, "this is Barrayar. My home planet. But it isn't my home time. That hard-faced man in his, oh, thirties or so in charge of the camp? That's my grandfather. Not that he's allowed to know it," he adds quickly, because oh God, this is some kind of time travel horseshit and thinking of the implications is giving him a headache. "This is, give or take, about sixty years before I was even born. And it's...not a great time to be vacationing on the planet."