Ancillary Sword (25 page)

Head still tilted, expression still sardonic, she said, “Don’t you want to know how I did it?”

I smiled. “Most esteemed Queter. For nearly all of my life I have been among people who were very firmly convinced that the universe would be the better for my absence. I doubt very much that you have any surprises for me. Still, it was well done, and if your timing hadn’t been just that smallest bit off, you would have succeeded. Your talents are wasted here.”

“Oh, of
course
they are.” Her tone became, if possible, even more cutting than before. “There’s no one else here but
superstitious savages
.” The last words in Radchaai.

“The information you would need to make something like that is not freely available,” I said. “If you’d gone looking for it you would have been denied access, and possibly had Planetary Security looking closely at you. If you attended school here you’d have learned to recite passages of scripture, and some cleaned-up history, and very little more. Raughd herself likely knew no more than that explosives can kill people. You worked the details out yourself.” Had, perhaps, been pondering the question long before Raughd made her move. “Sorting tea leaves and fixing the machines in the manufactory! You must have been bored beyond belief. If you’d ever taken the aptitudes, the assigners would have been sure to send you somewhere your talents were better occupied, and you’d have had no time or opportunity to dream up trouble.” Queter’s lips
tightened, and she drew breath as though to reply. “And,” I forestalled her, “you would not have been here to protect your brother.” I gestured, acknowledging the irony of such things.

“Are you here to arrest me?” Queter asked, without moving, her face not betraying the tension that had forced that question into the open. Only the barest hint of it in her voice. Grandfather, and the others around the table, sat still as stone, hardly daring to breathe.

“I am,” I replied.

Queter unfolded her arms. Closed her hands into fists. “You are so
civilized
. So
polite
. So
brave
coming here alone when you know no one here would dare to touch you. So easy to be all those things, when all the power is on your side.”

“You’re right,” I agreed.

“Let’s just go!” Queter crossed her arms again, hands still fists.

“Well,” I replied calmly. “As to that, I walked here, and I think it’s raining by now. Or have I lost count of the days?” No reply, just tense silence from the people around the table, Queter’s determined glare. “And I wanted to ask you what happened. So that I can be sure the weight of this falls where it should.”

“Oh!” cried Queter, at the frayed edge of her patience finally. “You’re the just one, the kind one, are you? But you’re no different from the daughter of the house.” She lapsed, there, into Radchaai. “All of you! You take what you want at the end of a gun, you murder and rape and steal, and you call it
bringing civilization
. And what is civilization, to you, but us being properly grateful to be murdered and raped and stolen from? You said you knew justice when you heard it. Well, what is your justice but you allowed to treat us as you like, and us condemned for even attempting to defend ourselves?”

“I won’t argue,” I said. “What you say is true.”

Queter blinked, hesitated. Surprised, I thought, to hear me say so. “But
you’ll
grant us justice from on high, will you? You’ll bring salvation? Are you here for us to fall at your feet and sing your praise? But we know what your justice is, we know what your salvation is, whatever face you put on it.”

“I can’t bring you justice, Queter. I can, however, bring you personally into the presence of the district magistrate so that you can explain to her why you did what you did. It won’t change things for you. But you knew from the moment Raughd Denche told you what she wanted that there would be no other ending to this, not for you. The daughter of the house was too convinced of her own cleverness to have realized what that would mean.”

“And what good will that do, Radchaai?” asked Queter, defiant. “Don’t you know we’re dishonest and deceitful? Resentful where we should be docile and grateful? That what intelligence we superstitious savages have is mere cunning? Obviously, I would lie. I might even tell a lie you created for me, because you hate the daughter of the house. And me in particular. In the strikes—your pet Samirend will have told you of the strikes?” I gestured acknowledgment. “She’ll have told you how she and her cousins nobly educated us, made us aware of the injustice we suffered, taught us how to organize and induced us to act? Because we could not
possibly
have done those things ourselves.”

“She herself,” I said, “was reeducated afterward, and as a result can’t speak directly about it. Citizen Fosyf, on the other hand, told me the story in such terms.”

“
Did
she,” answered Queter, not a question. “And did she tell you that my mother died during those strikes? But no, she’ll have spoken of how kind she is to us, and how gentle she was, not bringing in soldiers to shoot us all as we sat there.”

Queter could not have been more than ten when it had happened. “I can’t promise the district magistrate will listen,” I said. “I can only give you the opportunity to speak.”

“And then what?” asked Grandfather. “What then, Soldier? From a child I was taught to forgive and forget, but it’s difficult to forget these things, the loss of parents, of children and grandchildren.” Her expression was unchanged, blank determination, but her voice broke slightly at that last. “And we are all of us only human. We can only forgive so much.”

“For my part,” I replied, “I find forgiveness overrated. There are times and places when it’s appropriate. But not when the demand that you forgive is used to keep you in your place. With Queter’s help I can remove Raughd from this place, permanently. I will try to do more if I can.”

“Really?” asked another person at the table, who had been silent till now. “Fair pay? Can you do that, Soldier?”

“Pay at all!” added Queter. “Decent food you don’t have to go in debt for.”

“A priest,” someone suggested. “A priest for us, and a priest for the Recalcitrants, there are some over on the next estate.”

“They’re called
teachers
,” Grandfather said. “Not priests. How many times have I said so?” And
Recalcitrant
was an insult. But before I could say that, Grandfather said to me, “You won’t be able to keep such promises. You won’t be able to keep Queter safe and healthy.”

“That’s why I make no promises,” I said, “and Queter may come out of this better than we fear. I will do what I can, though it may not be much.”

“Well,” said Grandfather after a few moments more of silence. “Well. I suppose we’ll have to give you supper, Radchaai.”

“If you would be so kind, Grandfather,” I said.

Queter and I walked to Fosyf’s house before the sun rose, while the air was still damp and smelling of wet soil, Queter striding impatiently, her back stiff, her arms crossed, repeatedly drawing ahead of me and then pausing for me to catch up, as though she were eager to reach her destination and I was inconsiderately delaying her. The fields, the mountains, were shadowed and silent. Queter was not in a mood to talk. I drew breath and sang, in a language I was sure no one here understood.

It was the song Tisarwat’s Bos had sung, in the soldiers’ mess.
Oh, tree!
Bo Nine had been singing it to herself just now, above, on the Station.

“Well, that one’s escaped,” said Queter, a meter ahead of me on the road, not looking back at me.

“And will again,” I replied.

She paused, waited for me to catch up. Still didn’t turn her head. “You lied, of course,” she said, and began walking again. “You won’t let me speak to the district magistrate, and no one will believe what I have to say. But you didn’t bring soldiers to the house, so I suppose that’s something. Still, no one will believe what I have to say. And I’ll be gone through Security or dead, if there’s even any difference, but my brother will still be here. And so will Raughd.” She spat, after saying the name. “Will you take him away?”

“Who?” The question took me by surprise, so that I hardly understood it. “Your brother?” We were still speaking Delsig.

“Yes!” Impatient, still angry. “My brother.”

“I don’t understand.” The sky had paled and brightened, but where we walked was still shadowed. “Is this something you’re afraid I’ll do, or something you want?” She didn’t answer. “I’m a soldier, Queter, I live on a military ship.” I didn’t have the time or the resources to take care of children, not even mostly grown ones.

Queter gave an exasperated cry. “Don’t you have an apartment somewhere, and servants? Don’t you have
retainers
? Don’t you have dozens of people to see to your every need, to make your tea and straighten your collar and strew flowers in your path? Surely there’s room for one more.”

“Is that something your brother wants?” And after a few moments with no reply, “Would your grandfather not be grieved to lose both of you?”

She stopped, then, suddenly, and wheeled to face me. “You think you know about us but you don’t understand
anything
.”

I thought of telling her that it was she who did not understand. That I was not responsible for every distressed child on the planet. That none of this had been my fault. She stood there tense, frowning, waiting for me to answer. “Do you
blame your brother? For not fighting harder, for putting you in the position you’re in?”

“Oh!” she cried. “Of course! It’s nothing to do with the fact that
your
civilized self brought Raughd Denche down here. You knew enough about the daughter of the house to realize what had happened, you knew enough about her to realize what she was doing to us. But it wasn’t
serious
enough for you to stir yourself until some Radchaai nearly got killed. And there won’t be anything for
you
to worry about once you’re gone and the daughter of the house and her mother are
still here
.”

“I didn’t cause this, Queter. And I can’t fix every injustice I find, no matter how much I’d like to.”

“No, of
course
you can’t.” Her contempt was acid. “You can only fix the ones that really inconvenience you.” She turned, and began walking again.

If I were given to swearing, I would have sworn now. “How old is your brother?”

“Sixteen,” she said. The sarcasm returned to her voice. “You could rescue him from this terrible place and bring him to
real civilization
.”

“Queter, I only have my ship and some temporary quarters on Athoek Station. I have soldiers, and they see to my needs and even make my tea, but I don’t have a retinue. And your idea about the flowers is charming, but it would make a terrible mess. I don’t have a place in my household for your brother. But I will ask him if he wants to leave here, and if he does, I’ll do my best for him.”

“You won’t.” She didn’t turn as she spoke, just continued walking. “Do you even know,” she said, and I could tell from the sound of her voice that she was about to cry, “can you even imagine what it’s like to know that nothing you can do
will make any difference? That nothing you can do will protect the people you love? That anything you could possibly ever do is less than worthless?”

I could. “And yet you do it anyway.”

“Superstitious savage that I am.” Definitely crying now. “Nothing I do will make any difference. But I will make you
look
at it. I will make you see what it is you’ve done, and ever after, if you would look away, if you would ever claim to be just, or proper, you’ll have to lie to yourself outright.”

“Most esteemed Queter,” I said, “idealist that you are, young as you are, you can have no idea just how easy it is for people to deceive themselves.” By now the tops of the mountains were bright, and we were nearly over the ridge.

“I’ll do it anyway.”

“You will,” I agreed, and we walked the rest of the way in silence.

We stopped at the smaller house first. Queter refused tea or food, stood by the door, arms still crossed. “No one at the main house will be awake yet,” I told her. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’d like to dress and see to a few things, and then we’ll go up to the house and wait for the magistrate.” She lifted an elbow and a shoulder, conveying her lack of concern over what I did or didn’t do.

Sword of Atagaris
was in Captain Hetnys’s sitting room, still facedown on the tabletop on the floor. Its back was covered with the thick black shell of a corrective. I squatted down beside it. “
Sword of Atagaris
,” I said quietly, in case it should be asleep, and not wanting to disturb Captain Hetnys.

“Fleet Captain,” it replied.

“Are you comfortable? Is there anything you need?”

I thought it hesitated just the smallest moment before replying. “I’m in no pain, Fleet Captain, and Kalr Five and Kalr Eight have been very helpful.” Another pause. “Thank you.”

“Please let either of them know if you need anything. I’m going to get dressed, now, and go up to the main house. I think it very likely we’ll want to leave before tomorrow. Do you think we’ll be able to move you?”

“I believe so, Fleet Captain.” That pause again. “Fleet Captain. Sir. If I may ask a question.”

“Of course, Ship.”

“Why did you call the doctor?”

I had acted without thinking much about why. Had only done what had, at the moment, seemed to be the right and obvious thing to do. “Because I didn’t think you wanted to be too far from your captain. And I see no reason to waste ancillaries.”

“With all respect, sir, unless the gates open soon, this system only has a limited number of specialized correctives. And I do have a few backups in storage.”

Backups. Human beings in suspension waiting to die. “Would you have preferred I left this segment to be disposed of?”

Three seconds of silence. Then, “No, Fleet Captain. I would not.”

The inner door opened, and Captain Hetnys came out, half dressed, looking as though she’d just woken. “Fleet Captain,” she said. Taken somewhat aback, I thought.

“I was just checking on
Sword of Atagaris
, Captain. I’m sorry if I woke you.” I rose. “I’m going up to the main house to meet with the district magistrate as soon as I’ve dressed and had something to eat.”

“Sir. Did you find the person who did this?” Captain Hetnys asked.

“I did.” I would not elaborate.

But she didn’t ask for details. “I’ll be down myself in a few minutes, Fleet Captain, with your indulgence.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Queter was still standing by the door when I came back downstairs. Sirix sat at the table, with a piece of bread and a bowl of tea in front of her. “Good morning, Fleet Captain,” she said when she saw me. “I’d like to come up to the house with you.” Queter scoffed.

“Whatever you like, Citizen.” I took my own piece of bread, poured myself a bowl of tea. “We’re only waiting for Captain Hetnys to be ready.”

Captain Hetnys came down the stairs a few minutes later. She said nothing to Sirix, looked quickly at Queter and then away. Came over to the sideboard to pour herself some tea.

“Kalr Eight will stay behind to look after
Sword of Atagaris
,” I said, and then, to Queter, in Radchaai, “Citizen, are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“No, thank you so
very
kindly, Citizen.” Queter’s voice was bitter and sarcastic.

“As you like, Citizen,” I replied.

Captain Hetnys stared at me in frank astonishment. “Sir,” she began.

“Captain,” I said, forestalling whatever else she might have been intending to say, “are you eating, or can we go?” I took the last bite of my bread. Sirix had already finished hers.

“I’ll drink my tea on the way, sir, with your permission.” I gestured the granting of it, swallowed the last of my own tea, and walked out the door without looking to see if anyone followed.

A servant brought us to the same blue and gold sitting room we had met in the day before. By now the sun was nearly above the mountains, and the lake, through the window, had turned quicksilver. Captain Hetnys settled into a chair, Sirix carefully chose another three meters away. Five took up her usual station by the door, and Queter stood defiant in the middle of the room. I went over to where the stringed instrument sat, to examine it. It had four strings and no frets, and its wooden body was inlaid with mother-of-pearl. I wondered how it sounded. If it was bowed, or strummed, or plucked.

The district magistrate came in. “Fleet Captain, you had us worried, you were so late last night. But your soldier assured us you were well.”

I bowed. “Good morning, Magistrate. And I’m sorry to have troubled you. By the time we were ready to come back, it was raining, so we spent the night.” As I spoke, Fosyf and Raughd entered the room. “Good morning, Citizens,” I said, nodding in their direction, and then turned back to the district magistrate. “Magistrate, I would like to introduce Citizen Queter. I have promised her the chance to speak to you directly. I think it is extremely important that you listen to what she has to say.” Raughd scoffed. Rolled her eyes and shook her head.

The magistrate glanced in her direction, and said, “Does Citizen Queter speak Radchaai?”

“Yes,” I replied, ignoring Raughd for the moment. I turned to Queter. “Citizen, here is the district magistrate, as I promised.”

For a moment, Queter didn’t respond, just stood straight and silent in the middle of the room. Then she turned toward
the magistrate. Said, without bowing, “Magistrate. I want to explain what happened.” She spoke very slowly and carefully.

“Citizen,” replied the magistrate. Enunciating precisely, as though she was speaking to a small child. “The fleet captain promised that you would be given a chance to speak to me, and so I am listening.”

Queter was silent a moment more. Trying, I thought, to rein in a sarcastic response. “Magistrate,” she said finally. Still speaking carefully and clearly, so that everyone might understand her, despite her accent. “You may know that the tea planters and their daughters sometimes amuse themselves at the expense of the field workers.”

“Oh!” cried Raughd, all offended exasperation. “I can’t go within fifty meters of a field worker without flattery and flirting and all sorts of attempts to get my attention in the hope I’ll give gifts, or that eventually I’ll bestow clientage. This is amusing myself at their expense, is it?”

“Citizen Raughd,” I said, keeping my voice calm and chill, “Queter was promised the opportunity to speak. You will have your chance when she is finished.”

“And meanwhile I’m to stand here and listen to this?” cried Raughd.

“Yes,” I replied.

Raughd looked at her mother in appeal. Fosyf said, “Now, Raughd, the fleet captain promised Queter she could speak. If there’s anything to say afterward we’ll have our chance to say it.” Her voice even, her expression genial as always, but I thought she was wary of what might come next. Captain Hetnys seemed confused, looked for an instant as though she would have said something, but saw me watching. Sirix stared fixedly off into the distance. Angry. I didn’t blame her.

I turned to Queter. “Go on, Citizen.” Raughd made a disgusted
noise, and seated herself heavily in the nearest chair. Her mother remained standing. Calm.

Queter drew a deliberate breath. “The tea planters and their daughters sometimes amuse themselves at the expense of the field workers,” she repeated. I didn’t know if anyone else in the room could hear how carefully she was controlling her voice. “Of
course
we always say flattering things and pretend to want it.” Raughd made a sharp, incredulous noise. Queter continued. “Most of us, anyway. Anyone in this house has… can make our lives a misery.” She had been about to say that anyone in the house had the field workers’ lives in their hands, an expression that, literally translated from Delsig into Radchaai, sounded vulgar.

The district magistrate said, voice disbelieving, “Citizen, are you accusing Citizen Fosyf or anyone else in this household of mistreatment?”

Queter blinked. Took a breath. Said, “The favor, or the disfavor, of Citizen Fosyf or anyone else in this house can mean the difference between credit or not, extra food for the children or not, the opportunity for extra work or not, access to medical supplies or not—”

“There
is
a doctor, you know,” Fosyf pointed out, her voice just slightly edged, something I had never heard before.

“I’ve met your doctor,” I said. “I can’t blame anyone for being reluctant to deal with her. Citizen Queter, do continue.”

“In entertainments,” said Queter after another breath, “beautiful, humble Radchaai are lifted up by the rich and the powerful, and maybe it happens, but it never happens to
us
. Only an infant would think it ever would. I tell you this so that you understand why the daughter of this house is met with flattery, and is given everything she wishes.”