**edited 01/27/14 
 It sometimes seems as though fantasy is all about new and inventive ways to die. Scifi, its inverse, always--always, in the end-- involves the extension of life to a point where it begins to exceed reason and rationality. What happens when life is no longer a brief blaze of experience lodged between two eternal unknowns? Is the extension of life past the norm inevitably selfish, either through the selfishness of the individual who seeks to forestall the unexplored, or the selfishness of the family and loved ones who cannot be detached from a soul that is ready to move beyond? How much can the average lifespan grow before it is too long? Surely infinity is too dreary to slog through, but surely there must be someone to regret one's passing, or life would not be worth living in the first place. Should life be extended until the only one to regret its loss is oneself? Thus far, Bujold has delicately skirted these thorny issues, even while investigating her cryonic technology, for it has been used only to restore those whose lives have been violently cut short. While the genetically engineered Betans and Cetagandans count their years in hundreds, a panacea for old age is a new and untested invention, and one that could potentially upset the delicate balance of society. For at some point, must there not be some sort of natural order, a point at which the old gives way to the new? Cryoburn is a story about death--both the journey to, and escape from, that ultimate destination. 
 Kibou-daini is a city of the dead, a planet of corpses neatly packed away in thousands and millions of cryochambers, suspended in death until the moment their lives are restarted. But there's something off about the whole political situation, and it's not just the esprit de corpse. Miles Vorkosigan, Imperial Auditor, is selected by his emperor as the current expert on the mechanics and politics of death and is sent to investigate. Aided by his loyal manservant Roic, it isn't long before they're neck-deep in conspiracies--but since this is Miles Vorkosigan, neck-deep for anyone else means Miles is up to his eyeballs in trouble. 
 ~3.5 
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 Due to my disapproval of GR's new and rather subjective review deletion policy, The rest of this review can be found on Booklikes.