"Yes, you seem to know a lot about ferreting," Piotr says, utterly dry. Despite being a few years Byerly's senior, the look he fixes Byerly with could've come from the General at sixty-two as well as thirty-two. "If you think I'm going to bribe you into helping dig up the moles in this camp, you're even more of an idiot than your appearance would have me believe. You may be innocent of spying for the Cetagandans -- as far as we know -- but you're in no better position than the rest of us. Your safety rides on the security of this camp. It's in no more my best interest than it is yours. So if you're really so keen on helping, and not just squeezing a few extra rations out of me with the least subtle approach I can think of short of begging, then you had best prove to me that you can do something useful other than waste my time talking, or my armsmen will see you out shortly."

And by the look from the Vorkosigan liveried men, see you out is a generous term for throw you out on your ass in the cold snow.