"Is that a threat?" Byerly asks, sweeping his eyelashes elegantly at Ivan. He knows full well it's not. Ivan's a fool at times, but not, truly, an idiot; the man will doubtless be aware of the risks and possible consequences of diddling with the space-time continuum. Or, more directly, diddling it. Still, that's not going to keep By from tormenting Ivan a bit - God, no.

"Are you protecting the girl's honor?" he asks with amusement, then holds up a finger - "Or - ah. Worried at doing a gene-scan and finding a few strains of Vorrutyer madness and decadence in there after all." Mildly, he goes on: "Honestly, I think a bit of that would just serve to liven up your stodgy personality."