by Yoon Ha Lee
“I hadn’t realized you were going to take an interest in the infantry, too,” Cheris said. Truth to tell, she found it heartening.
“We have to,” he said, hard and sharp. “Our aim is to crack open the Fortress. The people going into the Fortress will be the infantry. We’re looking at companies operating autonomously for periods of time. We’ll need to rely on the low officers, which means understanding them so we can motivate them.”
“Are we going to be permitted to join the troops on the Fortress?” she asked. She knew it was a stupid question the moment it came out of her mouth. She’d have to do better.
“You’re thinking like a company commander, not a high officer. Lose that habit. Besides, I guarantee that our keepers will shoot us if we get off the command moth. They won’t trust me out of their sight. We’ll just have to work around it.”
“I’ll remember that,” Cheris said.
After a moment, he went on, “Do you know what you’re going to say to your swarm once they’re assembled, Cheris? It’s best to prepare it in advance. The first time they put me in charge of a swarm, I thought I was going to forget my own name.”
“I’m listening to any advice you have,” Cheris said carefully. “In the past I’ve had some chance to meet my company in person. It makes a difference.”
“I don’t dispute that. Half your swarm commanders will be eager to take a crack at the Fortress – there’s something to be said for Kel eagerness – but they’ll resent you for jumping rank on them. Don’t let on that it bothers you, if it bothers you. And above all don’t let them pity you for being a pawn. Nothing kills respect faster than pity.” Jedao thought for a moment. “Besides, if they pull me early, you might have to go it alone, and you want to be prepared for that contingency.”
“Chain of command –”
“Kel Command said you’re brevetted for the duration of the campaign. You might be stuck.”
He was right. In an emergency, there might not be time to send to Kel Command for new orders. She might end up retaining command. Although she had taken the requisite primers on space warfare in academy, she had only fought as infantry, and experience made a difference.
“Keep it short,” Jedao said kindly. “If you’re not a natural speech-giver you get into less trouble that way.”
“How did you manage?” she asked.
“I like talking to people,” he said. “It’s the same thing, only with more averaging. You’ll get better at it with practice. That’s what it comes down to.”
Cheris stared at the names and photos of the officers in their proposed swarm. They looked unreal, but Cheris knew she had to take this seriously. All too soon she and Jedao would be in charge of these people, and she couldn’t afford for him to know anything about them that she didn’t.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE SWARM ASSEMBLED piecemeal, each moth taking up a lattice position as assigned by the research station’s command center. Cheris and Jedao viewed the feed from display six. The voidmoths were varied in shape, even those in the same class. Commanders were allowed to put in for customizations if they could scratch anything out of the budget for it. For the most part, the moths were lean triangles, hound-sleek. The two cindermoths were particularly notable, and not just for their size. Each sported a spinal-mounted erasure cannon, and she could see the mounts for their complements of dire cannon as well.
The swarm was now fully assembled, only one hour and seventy-three minutes behind schedule. Cheris notified them that she would address them in twenty-eight minutes. She added that she wanted to see individual commanders, not command composites.
“An interesting decision,” Jedao said, without judging.
“We’re going to need to know their capabilities as individuals,” Cheris said. They couldn’t gamble that composite wiring would work near the Fortress. Besides, as a recent infantry captain, Cheris wasn’t wired herself. “We might as well start figuring that out.”
The Nirai wandered in at one point. Uncharitably, Cheris wondered if his superiors didn’t have enough to keep him busy with. He was wearing a deceptively understated black jacket with moths embroidered in dark thread along the front, and lacelike silver earrings. “You’re going out of my care,” he said to Cheris. “I wanted to warn you to be vigilant.”
“I’ll do what I can, sir,” she said.
“When you come back,” he said, “we should talk about number theory. I looked up one of your student papers, the critique of Nirai Medera’s formation generator. A novel approach.”
Cheris relaxed. Trust a Nirai to get distracted by something irrelevant to the mission. Then again, it wasn’t his mission. “Of course,” she said.
The Nirai smiled at her, and the beautiful eyes were almost kind. “Burn brightly,” he said, a Kel farewell, and left.
Cheris spent the next fifty seconds trying not to hyperventilate at the thought of addressing the swarm. It hadn’t been so long ago that she had had Eels trying to kill her. She would rather go back to that than face all those commanders, who would ordinarily be her superiors.
Jedao didn’t tell her to relax. Instead, he kept up a reassuring patter as he analyzed everything that came across the displays, including the graphical conventions and fonts used to show data. She wouldn’t have thought a general would show such interest in good interface design.
“Have you given thought to your emblem?” Jedao asked out of nowhere.
“My what?” She saw what he meant. As a brevet general she wasn’t entitled to one, but it would disappoint the swarm not to have one as an identifier. Jedao’s Deuce of Gears, while technically available, was a bad idea for obvious reasons.
“You’re having a thought,” Jedao said.
“They won’t like it,” Cheris said.
“They don’t have to. They’re not in charge.” Another moment, then: “I see. It’s appropriate.”
“How do you do that?” she demanded.
“Well, my guess could be wrong. But you think with your face, Cheris. Dangerous habit. I don’t have a better suggestion, so we’ll go with that. Six more minutes. You’d better be ready. Do you want them to see the shadow or not?”
“Yes,” she said. “They ought to know who they’re following.”
“Do you have the lights figured out?”
Adjusting the lights was easy, a matter of angles. It was the talking part that concerned her.
“Reorient displays,” Cheris told the grid, and gave the parameters. “I want to be able to see everyone I’m talking to.”
The displays arranged themselves according to rank and, when the time came, lit up simultaneously. Two cindermoth commanders, thirteen bannermoth commanders, an infantry colonel, an intelligence captain, and seven boxmoth commanders made for a crowd. She could see why Kel Command preferred to deal with composites.
They were saluting her. Cheris bit back the urge to apologize for the irregularity. “At ease,” she said. “Brevet General Kel Cheris for the duration of this campaign by order of Kel Command. I am being advised by General Shuos Jedao.”
She couldn’t see the shadow behind her, but she could tell they were watching it. She tried to see all their faces at once and figure out who was stiff and who seemed receptive to this development, but it was too much.
“Our mission is to retake the Fortress of Scattered Needles from the heretics,” Cheris went on.
“I knew it!” The speaker was Kel Nerevor, commander of the cindermoth Unspoken Law, a lean, middling-dark woman with white streaks in her hair and a laughing mouth. “Everyone’s been talking about it. It will be a great honor to retake the Fortress for the hexarchate.”
The other cindermoth commander, dour-looking Commander Kel Paizan, shook his head. “Commander,” he said, “have some respect.”
“You should have shut her down yourself,” Jedao murmured.
Cheris was irritated not because he was wrong but because he was right and she knew it. “We’ll be going straight in,” she sai
d. “I’ll transmit the intelligence we have, but it’s scant.”
“Subdisplay 17,” Jedao said, but this time Cheris was ahead of him. The subdisplay showed the head of the intelligence team, Captain-analyst Shuos Ko. Ko had a beard, which made him stand out. Kel men preferred to be clean-shaven.
“General,” Ko said, inclining his head. He had a bland, pleasant voice. Cheris wasn’t fooled. She had met servitors who exuded more personality, but that was probably the point. “We have some additional information that we can provide at your discretion. I think you’ll be interested in some of the traffic analysis that came out of the Fortress in the two days before it ceased communications with the hexarchate. It confirms that the rot was carefully orchestrated.”
“Thank you, I’d like to see that,” Cheris said.
Nerevor jumped in again. “What moth will you be bannering?” she asked. Her eyes gleamed.
Cheris had originally thought to banner the Sincere Greeting, as Commander Paizan was senior, but she changed her mind. She wanted to keep an eye on Nerevor, even if it violated custom. Besides, she knew the question was a trap.
“Good thought,” Jedao said as she spoke, “but control your face better. You keep being too easy to read.”
“I’ll be bannering the Unspoken Law,” Cheris said. Interesting: Paizan had cause to be affronted, but the wry set of his mouth told her that he knew exactly what she was doing, and wasn’t going to object. And, before Nerevor could speak again, “We’ll be using the null emblem.” She watched Nerevor’s face. Her smile twisted at the commander’s momentary look of revulsion.
“Thought so,” Jedao said.
Null emblem. A featureless black banner. It was used only by generals in disgrace. Even newly promoted generals were permitted to use the default sword-and-feather emblem until they had a chance to register something.
At least this had knocked Nerevor off her stride. The other dubious advantage was that the heretics wouldn’t know who to expect when they saw the emblem.
“The Shuos team and I will board the Unspoken Law in two hours,” Cheris said. “Make the necessary arrangements.”
“Sir.”
Moments later, all the faces had blinked out and Cheris’s knees felt rubbery.
“Don’t rest yet,” Jedao said, not entirely humorously. “I assume you were watching people’s reactions. Give me your assessment.”
Mercifully, the subdisplays had been clearly labeled. Ordinarily she was all right at remembering names, but the stress had caused them to fly out of her head. “Nine seemed sympathetic, but she’s junior,” she said.
“That was Commander Kel Irio. Get used to remembering their names, not the numbers.”
“I know,” Cheris said doggedly. “Just let me get my thoughts together. I’m worried about Four. I mean Vidona Diaiya. She paid close attention to me when Commander Nerevor was speaking. Commander Kel Agath was completely unreadable, which is bad. And I gave up trying to keep track of the boxmoth commanders. But the big problem is going to be Commander Nerevor.”
“That’s my fault,” Jedao said, to her surprise. “I’ve fucked up your body language, so on top of issues with brevet rank, formation instinct isn’t telling her to recognize you as a Kel.”
“I never thought of that,” Cheris said. This wouldn’t have been an issue for him during his lifetime, presumably, since formation instinct had been invented some decades after his execution.
“It’s happened to my anchors before. You haven’t mentioned the Shuos captain.”
She bit her lip and tried to remember. “He slipped my mind, and he shouldn’t have.”
“Well, he’s professionally trained to fade into the background.”
“He was right there.”
“He also had the advantage of needing to focus on one person, rather than twenty-odd –”
“Twenty-four.”
“I stand corrected.”
“Was there anything about him I should have noticed?” Cheris asked. She pulled up the recording and scrubbed through it, but didn’t see anything obvious.
“Nothing useful. He’s hiding something, but that’s a given. Still, as they say, it’s good policy to keep one eye on a Shuos.”
The other half of that saying was that the Shuos inevitably had more eyes than you did, but she didn’t bring that up.
“Colonel Ragath looked politely bored,” Cheris said, “but I don’t think that’s unexpected. He’s waiting to see if we can even get the infantry onto the Fortress. Until then, he’ll be taking a nap.”
“Quite right. And I don’t think you need to worry about the boxmoth commanders. Don’t misunderstand me. Transport is important, but what the boxmoth commanders want out of you is reasonable schedules. We’re going to make sure that isn’t an issue.
“Anyway, bannering Unspoken Law was the right move. Nerevor may be eager to fight, but she’s going to see how far she can push you. I can’t wait to see what exchanges you two have at high table.”
Cheris couldn’t help but feel repelled by the situation.
Jedao noticed. “The other half of being a general is politics, Cheris. It’s regrettable but necessary. Anyway, let’s look at Captain-analyst Ko’s file while we have a moment.”
“I don’t like the implications,” Cheris said after they had gone through the analysis. “He thinks there’s a conspiracy too. Why would you let a conspiracy grow unchecked at a nexus fortress?”
She didn’t want to say aloud what he had to be thinking, too: that a conspiracy in the Fortress of Scattered Needles implied a conspiracy in the hexarchate entire, microcosm reflecting macrocosm.
“The people I want to hear from are the Rahal,” Jedao said, “and if they haven’t sent us anything, they’re not going to.”
Shuos Ko had even submitted the Rahal responses to his own inquiries. Cheris’s favorite, if you could call it that, was: Internal Rahal matter. Further questions will be subject to counter-investigation.
“What could be so important that it’s worth withholding information from us like this?” Cheris asked.
“Normally I’d say it’s characteristic of wolves to close ranks,” Jedao said, “but it looks like Kel Command is in it with them. I’m starting to wonder if the hexarchs are doing something devious.”
Cheris submitted a single query to the Rahal anyway, since they’d expect her to try. No luck.
“You should go meet Captain Ko,” Jedao said. “He’ll expect to get acquainted and it’s best to do so before you’re under Nerevor’s eye.”
“Do you have every minute of my time scheduled?”
“Call the servitors,” he said, “so they can shift your belongings.”
She couldn’t argue with that. The servitors arrived within two minutes, three snakeforms and a sturdier-looking beetleform. She asked them to give her regards to the Heron Company servitors, providing the routing information. To her surprise, the beetleform completed her sentence for her with a mischievous chirp: it already knew. In the past she’d had hints that the servitors talked to each other about humans far more than most people realized, but she’d never pressed to find out just how much, for everyone’s safety. Indeed, the beetleform hunkered down and went after her duffel bag, ordinary as you please. She told the servitors where it had to go, thinking it would have made more sense to carry it herself, and thanked them for their care. It was a pity she wouldn’t get a chance to get to know them better; she couldn’t imagine that Nirai servitors were less interested in math than Kel servitors. The four of them hummed their acknowledgment before heading out.
A message informed her that the Shuos team was ready for transfer. The research facility directed Cheris to meet them at Transfer Point 16. Cheris studied the map, although she knew a servitor would show up to guide them if they got lost. Her augment was curiously silent. “We might as well go now,” she said.
The route to the transfer point was everything Cheris expected from a Nirai station: straight lines and intersections
that added up into tangles, like trees grown together in a forest. At least the map was clear, and floating silver lights told them where to go. The pale light picked out the Kel and Nirai emblems, ashhawk and voidmoth, engraved in gold and silver on odd facets of the walls.
Transfer Point 16 was vast. The Shuos were already there, conspicuous in their red-and-gold formal uniforms. Cheris wondered what Jedao looked like in those colors. She recognized Captain Ko mostly by the beard, and the other analysts not at all.
“General,” Ko said, still with that bland politeness. “Might I introduce my team?” He indicated each in turn: Senior Analyst Shuos Veldiadar, a scowling womanform. Analyst Shuos Teng, whose bow was all anxiety. Analyst Shuos Mrai Dhun, a large, sturdy man who wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Kel infantry. Analyst Shuos Liis, who studied Cheris while smiling languidly. She had lavish ripples of dark hair framing a heart-shaped face, and a beautiful mouth, but not a kind one.
“Don’t worry,” Jedao said cynically. “You passed.”
“Passed what?” she asked, using subvocals.
“Tell you later.”
“I look forward to working with you,” Cheris said to the Shuos, because it needed to be said.
“We’re aware of the circumstances of your command,” Ko said. “We’ll do our best to offer the support you need to win the siege.”
“Probably sincere,” Jedao said.
“I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the signifier tests?” Cheris said.
“In relation to the Fortress?” Ko said. “I’ve heard there’s a file, but there’s a lot of documentation only Kel Command or the Fortress’s senior staff would have access to.”
Cheris had expected Jedao to criticize her for asking about the files straight out. Instead, he held his peace.