The Will to Battle

by Ada Palmer

  I hereby renounce the right to complacency, and vow lifelong to take only what minimum of leisure is necessary to my productivity, viewing health, happiness, rest, and play as means, not ends, and that, while Utopia provides my needs, I will commit the full produce of my labors to our collective effort to redirect the path of human life away from death and toward the stars.

  Even if Utopia defines its project so broadly that anything from a thrift shop to a life-affirming romance novel is considered a contribution to the human engine, and even if it recognizes the mind’s need for rest and play and lets its members carve out ample leisure hours, still, those who do not feel the true vocation wisely shy away from that yoke of self-directed servitude which follows the pledge: my days do not belong to me, but to the future. All seven, then, are fearsome paths. I tell you this, reader: across the Earth on a thousand campuses that day, the students learned at last why, at seventeen, raised in a bash’ that saw this crisis looming, I chose to face my rampage and my execution rather than choose a Hive.

  * * *

  May 18: Fourth trap. Moved Mycroft in a defective car which made a planned emergency landing in an isolated spot outside Esbjerg. Let Dominic’s Mitsubishi secretaries hear me discuss the emergency over my tracker. No sign of any attempt to kill or kidnap.

  May 22: Fifth trap. Arranged a power outage to strand Mycroft in office while they were interviewing Masami Mitsubishi. Can confirm that Masami covertly informed Toshi Mitsubishi and Yuki Ōoka (former personal assistant to Chief Director Hotaka Andō Mitsubishi). [Must remember to investigate Andō’s lines of communication while they are in custody.] No sign of any attempt to kill or kidnap.

  May 23: Evidence that Sniper is alive. On April 23rd (nine days after Sniper’s disappearance but well before we knew of it), Mycroft Canner sent a written request to O.S. specifying details for the chapter Sniper was to write for their history, which was supposed to describe what happened to Sniper during the hours they went missing on March 27th. Now, one month later, the requested chapter has appeared. It was sent to Lesley Saneer through what they described as “one of several secure channels used by O.S.” The chapter details a rather bizarre encounter involving Sniper being kidnapped by Dominic and Conclave Head Julia Doria-Pamphili. Doria-Pamphili denies all knowledge of the incident, but Dominic has, in confidence, hinted that the narrative is approximately accurate. Sniper’s chapter contains no hint of cypher or secret messages. Linguistic analysis suggests that much of the prose is likely Sniper’s, though key paragraphs have been heavily edited by another party. Unfortunately, the writing samples are not long enough to identify said interfering party from syntax alone.

  ANALYSIS (May 24): If Sniper’s chapter is real, the fact that it was edited suggests that Sniper is being held prisoner by some party or parties who permitted them to write the chapter, but censored it to remove hints about Sniper’s present circumstances. This makes kidnapping definitively more likely than the other possibilities, i.e. that Sniper is dead, has been injured and trapped somewhere, or has vanished for their own reasons. If such a captor exists, the fact that they received Mycroft’s request that Sniper write the chapter implies privileged access, either to O.S., to Papadelias’s office which transmitted Mycroft’s message, or to Mycroft. I am completely unable to guess the motives of a captor who respects the human species enough to release Sniper’s chapter, and thus facilitate dominus Jehovah’s attempts to disseminate the truth, yet who still holds Sniper prisoner despite the threat of global catastrophe. Similarly, it seems wildly irrational that anyone would try to kill Mycroft, but then facilitate the completion of their book by releasing Sniper’s chapter. I must face the growing probability that Mycroft’s assailant is not the person holding Sniper, though the assailant may still have witnessed something.

  ANALYSIS (May 25): I can now eliminate the possibility that Dominic and Julia Doria-Pamphili have kidnapped Sniper a second time. I had to consider it, even though, if they were involved, they would be unlikely to release a chapter incriminating themselves in the earlier kidnapping. But all possibilities are worth considering, so I approached Dominic. It is clear from Dominic’s passionate reaction that, if they did have Sniper, they would have killed Sniper and brought the corpse as an offering to dominus Jehovah. They would certainly not have left Sniper in a fit state to write a chapter. In fact, Dominic was so enraged by the suggestion that Julia might have caught Sniper and not delivered the “blasphemer” to Dominic for punishment that they immediately joined my investigation, contributing their usual efficacious vigor. Papadelias has been tracking Doria-Pamphili meticulously since their release on bail, and has uninterrupted surveillance sufficient to account for every minute of Doria-Pamphili’s activities throughout the period in question. Papadelias also facilitated a fresh search of all Doria-Pamphili’s residences and offices, which confirmed that Doria-Pamphili is a Sniper fan and Lifedoll collector, but uncovered nothing else of relevance. As an additional test, I asked Dominic about the paralysis technique used for Julia and Sniper’s earlier liaison. It was developed at Madame’s, and apparently Madame had several clients who enjoyed its use. In order to maintain a monopoly, Madame trained only four “Dollmakers” to implement it, and watched all carefully (Madame punishes breaches of professional secrecy as only Blacklaws may). I interviewed all four, then Dominic interviewed them rather more rigorously, and both Madame and Papadelias can account for their activities.

  May 27: Sixth trap. Sent Mycroft to wrong address for sensayer appointment. Complained to Conclave members and staff. No sign of any attempt to kill or kidnap.

  May 29: Seventh trap. Let Mycroft go see the Olympic Torch pass in Munich. Let plan slip to Chevalier. Dominic called to inform MASON that whoever was in charge of Mycroft’s security had made several recent lapses, and we should “keep the stray on a better leash.”

  ANALYSIS (May 30): If there are any spies around Dominic, they are spying for Dominic, not on them. This comes as no surprise. The Mitsubishi would have sent a professional killer, and anyone else likely to spy on Dominic would know Dominic well enough to realize they will brutally murder anyone who interferes with Mycroft, or their pursuit of Sniper. The hand that stabbed Mycroft the second time had neither unsteadiness nor hyper-resolution, the two characteristics of someone who knows they are condemning themselves to a painful death. The only associate of Dominic’s who is currently in the right emotional state to accept such a painful death without either confidence or trepidation is Blacklaw Carlyle Foster. Though a little small for our physical profile, Foster had their tracker switched off during the incident (and often does, common for Dominic’s associates). Foster was, as I understand, trained in spy-work by both Commissioner General Papadelias and Julia Doria-Pamphili, and is certainly an amateur at murder and timid enough to strike so impotent a blow, but lacks motive, both for killing Mycroft and for holding Sniper.

  June 1: For lack of a more direct test, I suggested the possibility of Foster’s guilt to Headmaster Faust. Faust laughed. Note: Faust believes Sniper’s chapter is mostly genuine.

  ANALYSIS (June 1): The failure of all these tests, along with the release of Sniper’s chapter, has convinced me of the probability of a traitor-spy (or more than one?) within O.S., or at least within the ranks of Sniper’s trusted supporters. When Dominic originally kidnapped Mycroft, they informed Sniper by tipping off several fans and doll factory staff in different parts of the world. Word of this might easily have reached Sniper’s subordinates before it reached Sniper themself, giving a traitor the opportunity to reach Mycroft first. A traitor in the inner circle of Sniper’s faction might well desire Sniper’s removal. Such a traitor might also desire Mycroft’s death, because Mycroft is a resource for our side, or because the completion of Mycroft’s history could threaten the traitor’s agenda. How a traitor might benefit from releasing Sniper’s chapter I cannot yet say. I would like to set traps for this traitor as I did for other kinds of spies, but it is not easy to plausibly release Mycrof
t’s location to the enemy. Confident that Lesley Saneer is clearly not working against Sniper, and is too physically small to be Mycroft’s assailant, I eliminated them as a suspect, and informed them of my suspicions on June 3rd:

  Saneer: “And, so you can hunt this theoretical traitor, you want me to give you access to the inner workings of my side? My closest allies?”

  Guildbreaker: “Want, yes; expect, no. Your caution is justified.”

  Saneer: “Then what do you expect?”

  Guildbreaker: “Just tell me if there is anyone in your inner circle who doesn’t care very much, one way or the other, about Mycroft Canner.”

  Saneer: “About Mycroft?”

  Guildbreaker: “Most people in the world feel strongly about Mycroft Canner. Is there anyone who doesn’t? Your Typer twin? Your set-set? Someone new you’ve brought into your circle? Someone Tully Mardi brought in?”

  Saneer: “Not that I can … think of. No. Everyone has an opinion of Mycroft.”

  I will note that Saneer paused. They paused before responding, and in the middle, and afterwards bit their lower lip. There is someone new in Sniper’s inner circle. Possibly several people. Definitely someone specific whom Lesley Saneer distrusts enough to fear betrayal. I will devise a [test/trap] for this suspect. Meanwhile, I have sown doubt in Lesley Saneer’s mind. If I am right, Saneer will perhaps expose the traitor on their own, and liberate Sniper. If I am wrong, then at least the distrust I have instilled will weaken the enemy. I have no reservations about using such tactics. The Empire is in danger.

  As for my investigation of the violation of our Sanctum Sanctorum …

  SECTION DELETED

  DICTUM ABSOLUTUM—MMCDLIV: lxiii

  DAMNATIO MEMORIAE

  … I made progress. I focused on the detail that the attack took place when not only dominus Jehovah but the Emperor and their intimates, including Mycroft Canner and myself, were safely absent from the tower. All else is condemned to silence.

  ANALYSIS (June 10): Sniper has now been missing fifty-seven days. Despite the hope offered by the appearance of their chapter, I grow pessimistic about the chances that, if I do find them, they will be in a fit state (psychological or physical) to control their faction. My next move must be to identify this untrustworthy new ally of O.S. who may be the culprit. Since Lesley Saneer will not reveal the names of their collaborators, I will use other means to identify those likely to have entered Sniper’s circle. But this must wait. In five days begins the terra ignota of Ockham Prospero Saneer. Even Sniper, on whose fate hang both this Olympic truce and dominus Jehovah’s Great Conversation, must wait while I shape the precedent by which humanity will someday judge my Emperor, their Imperator Destinatus, and myself.

  —Mycroft “Martin” Guildbreaker, Vicarius Familiarisque

  CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH

  The Witch

  Written August 16, 2454

  Event of June 14

  Herstedvester Compound

  Thisbe: “Finally! You’re nearly late enough to make me lose my bet.”

  I: “Hello, Thisbe. Are they treating you well?”

  Thisbe: “You’re not. Six weeks without a visit? Unforgivable.”

  I: “I haven’t needed—”

  Thisbe: “At least tell me you’ve brought me a change of clothes. I’m not going out in these.”

  Thisbe Saneer stretched back in her seat, and lifted her slippered foot so I could see it over the waist-high frame of the visiting window. Prison might have stolen her silky suits and preferred shampoos, but it had no power over the curve of her calf, or the elusive slice of ankle, usually hidden by her boots. The interrogation room’s harsh lighting showed the emptiness of her side of the glass dividing wall, a sterile room, a chair, a table, a paper cup of tea, while my side—my side was crowded with smoke-and-cancer prison specters, which pooled behind me, using my flesh as cover as they swarmed to flee the witch.

  “Going out?” I repeated.

  Her sharp glance made the specters cringe. “Don’t tell me we’re not leaving yet. The wait has been beyond intolerable. I know you could’ve sprung me before this, and I’m not interested in excuses, I’m interested in getting back to work.”

  “Sprung you?” I repeated.

  “I hear you sprang Ganymede ages ago. I’d have enjoyed a month in a royal resort in Spain too.”

  “I’m not—”

  “I know you’re the agent, not the architect. It’s been fun guessing who it would be, really, there are so many options: Madame, the old president, the new president, the Emperor, the Major. I’ve been in as much suspense as boredom.”

  “Suspense?” I asked. “As to…?”

  “As to who would recruit me first. So many must be tempted. I’m sure you and Papadelias have shown everyone my portfolio by now.”

  “Portfolio,” I whispered back.

  She smirked. “But it’s rude making me wait this long. I know you have Sidney and the captured Typer twin already beavering away, and Ockham’s doing such fine work with Ancelet, but I’ve been bored out of my wits waiting. Who sent you, then? Don’t string out the suspense.”

  “Thisbe, I’m only here to ask you to read over these chapters I’ve written describing how you first met Carlyle, and how you went to Chagatai’s, and then Madame’s.”

  A stark stare. “Are we being listened to?” she mouthed.

  “Possibly,” I replied aloud, “but not by any enemy that I know of.”

  “Come, Mycroft. We both know I’m too delicious a resource for selfish powers to leave alone this long. Well? Don’t just sit staring. What really brought you here?”

  “I’m writing this history, of the week of transformation when…”

  She shook her head. “I know lies, Mycroft. And I know you.”

  “I … actually I did want to ask your advice on something. We have a … very large problem, actually. I assume you know about any allies your bash’mates might have or make, and the truth is that Sniper is…”

  “Oooh, Cardie … Cardie is a fun little challenge.”

  I didn’t like her tone. I didn’t like her smile, how her fingers twitched within the folds of her black hair, as toes might among controls concealed in boots. There was an edge of murder in her fidgeting, as when a braggart thug plays with his knife, or Saladin with a bone. “No, never mind,” I said. “I don’t think you’d actually help.”

  “You want to fight O.S.?” she asked, leaning forward. “Or help O.S.? Or catch Cardie? Or save Cardie? Or break Cardie? You know what I can do. I’m eager to do it again.” Her eyes narrowed.

  I felt mine narrow too. “Yes, I know,” I answered. “Everyone knows how you work now, what you enjoy. That’s why you’re still here.”

  “Too many of them, fighting over which gets to have my arts?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then what?”

  “No one’s talking about you. Until I thought you might help with this Sniper business, no one had brought up your name in … I haven’t bothered to keep track.”

  She gave a blood-warm smile. “Mycroft, if you’re trying to scare me, and make me desperate, to better your boss’s bargaining position by making me think that no one’s coming for me, it won’t work. The attempt demeans us both.”

  “No one’s coming for you,” I said flatly.

  “They’ve already gone to the trouble of arranging for Ockham to go to trial alone, so I can stay out of the public eye, and slip into the shadows when it’s time to return to my … vocation. But I won’t do it for just anyone. I’m not going to be a patriotic stickler like Cardie and say I’m only working for Humanists, but I really am the best assassin in the world, so I get to be choosy.”

  “The best in the world!” I heard affront in my own voice as I said it, but was not quite sure on whose behalf I took offense. Sniper’s? Prospero’s? Saladin’s? My own? She did not know me at all, did she, this self-important witch? I was the reawakened beast, freed by Jehovah’s discovery that Gods’ un
iverses do not die if They do, freed to prowl and prey again as she had never seen in our decade-long feigned friendship. Can’t she tell? The prison spirits that feeding on my ankles grow fat with lust and malice, yet the witch, who should drink and breathe malice, she can’t even tell that I have changed?

  “Well, I’m certainly in the top three.” She thought she was giving real ground there, didn’t she? Vile, hubristic thing! “You must grant me that,” she continued. “But I’ve no patience with those who make it obvious that murder has been done, and I’m very disappointed in Cardie for joining you in that category.”

  What is that noise? A rhythmic shift of air somewhere close by. Am I laughing? “No one’s coming for you, Thisbe.”

  “Very funny.”

  “No one’s coming for you ever. No one wants you.”

  “This is childish.”

  “No one wants you, Thisbe. They want Ockham Prospero Saneer. The trial starts tomorrow but there’ve been crowds camped around the courthouse for days. They want Sniper, the world’s turned upside down for Sniper, because Sniper’s a noble creature, and Prospero’s a noble creature. They’re all noble creatures, Thisbe, except you, you’re a…”

  Her eyes dared me to finish.

  “You’re a tick.”

  She snorted. “A tick? That’s the best you have?”

  “You’re a tick, Thisbe,” I spat it this time, spat it like a curse. “A tick, and you feed, and you bloat, and you crawl, and you think it makes you something poetic and exciting, like a vampire, and you’re so wrong.”