"I...don't know," he admits, rubbing at his mouth. A moment, and then he says, "If they're Barrayaran, then Vorkosigan might exert himself to return the body to the family. More likely with Vor than with proles. Cetagandans...Hm. Most likely disposing of the body somewhere, holding onto the head as a trophy. Or just the scalp." Byerly's mouth twists. "They liked to take Cetagandan scalps during this era."

He blows out a breath, then says, "But the standard mode of execution is death by decapitation. As you saw. Which would prevent these changes which you predict, wouldn't it?" He hesitates, then says, "What we need is someone to die for the crime of treason. Those who commit treason...The standard punishment for that is death by exposure and starvation. That would leave the body intact to rise from death again if it has been infected."

Byerly falls silent. And then, abruptly, he gives a short but heartfelt laugh. What else can you do? The absurdity of it - the dire, bleak hilarity - it's simply too much. "Good heavens," he says thereafter, and rubs at his eyes.