Provenance

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by Ann Leckie


  A few meters farther on they reached the entrance to yet another room in the lareum. Another tall gray mech waited there, and as they came even with it, it walked up to Prolocutor Dicat and lifted em up with two of its three arms.

  “Are you comfortable, Prolocutor?” asked Excellency Chenns as the mech strode forward with the prolocutor in its grip.

  “Excellency Aughskold, Excellency Tai,” Commander Hatqueban said, not turning around, “please walk faster.” The two armed mechs behind them sped up. So did Ingray and Nicale.

  As they exited the lareum into the broad corridor that led to the Assembly Chambers, Ingray was struck, as she always was coming this way, with a sudden sense of dislocation. The floor was the same brown-and-gold tile that could be found all over the station, but the walls showed images of the space outside, making it seem like they were walking on a bridge through the endless vacuum. It was a recording, not a live feed, and the sun was always underneath or behind something. Hwae wasn’t visible just now, but it would swing in and out of view over time, she knew.

  The memory of standing outside the elevator flashed into her mind, and she hesitated, but the thought of Commander Hatqueban ahead with a gun in her hand, and the armed mechs behind them, kept her moving. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing up, though. And saw the broad, white ceiling. That was better. That was safe.

  But safe didn’t mean anything right now. Tic wasn’t here. At least it hadn’t actually been Tic they’d shot, just his mech. Though thinking of the dying mech, that blood—Ingray was sure somehow it was blood—made more tears well. She swallowed, and tried to blink them away.

  Up ahead, Commander Hatqueban stopped abruptly. Turned to face Ingray and Nicale and the prolocutor. The back of Ingray’s neck prickled. The commander’s face was still hidden behind her helmet, blank dark gray like the rest of her armor. Her gun still raised, pointing off to the side now, at least. Chenns stopped when she did, turned to look at the commander with a puzzled expression.

  “Stop,” Commander Hatqueban commanded, in Yiir, “and be silent.”

  Ingray, Nicale, the mech carrying the prolocutor, all came to a halt. “We weren’t …” Nicale began.

  “Silent!” insisted Commander Hatqueban.

  They waited in silence for what seemed like several minutes. Even though the commander was clearly in a hurry. Was she unnerved by the corridor, as Ingray had momentarily been? But no, the Omkem would have traveled it more than once by now, it would be familiar to them. What was she waiting for?

  A click sounded, and Commander Hatqueban and her mechs turned suddenly to a doorway-shaped crack of light along the left wall. After a few seconds the door opened all the way, and Ambassador Tibanvori stepped through, hands at her shoulders, palm out.

  Followed by Garal. Eir hands hanging at eir sides, like e was just coming into an ordinary room at an ordinary time.

  Fear shot through Ingray—e was putting emself in danger! And then hope. Was e here to help her? But no, e couldn’t be. Not in danger, and not here to help her. E was Geck, and Ingray wasn’t.

  “Commander Hatqueban, is it?” asked Tibanvori in Radchaai-accented Yiir. “You can put the guns down, or point them away at any rate. I’m here on your behalf, Amaat preserve us all. I have no idea why you would have done such a dreadful thing.”

  “We’re not putting the guns down, Ambassador,” said Commander Hatqueban. “We won’t be in any trouble for shooting you. In fact, I gather some would thank me for it.”

  “But you can’t shoot me,” said Garal. Eir voice amazingly calm and steady, almost casual. “Not without getting yourself in even more trouble than you already are.” Commander Hatqueban didn’t answer, and Garal continued. “We’re here for …” E gestured. “You know.”

  Silence. Then Chenns asked, “Was it the ambassador?”

  Tibanvori rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to answer, but Garal said, before she could speak, “Who else would it be?”

  Tibanvori blinked, as though surprised, but said nothing.

  “Why was she here?” asked Commander Hatqueban. “Why was she even here?”

  “Apparently she’d taken an interest in Ingray,” replied Garal. “But it hardly matters. We need to get the body and bring it back to our ship. We can’t leave it here.”

  “It’s still in the lareum,” said Commander Hatqueban. “You can get it when we’re gone.”

  “No,” said Garal. “We’ll get it now. You needn’t fear I’ll be any threat to you—the treaty protects you from me, just as it protects me from you. And Ambassador Tibanvori is here as an observer to ensure your safety, so you don’t need to worry about her, either.”

  “Our safety,” said the commander, flat and skeptical.

  “It will be bad for all of us if the treaty is broken,” said Tibanvori. “Though I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t gotten myself into this particular situation.”

  “The Geck are very secretive,” said Garal. “As you may already know, Commander. We can’t wait till you’re gone to do this.” And suddenly Ingray understood what was happening. That mech had been Tic’s—but it had been Geck to begin with. Clearly the Geck didn’t want it falling into anyone else’s hands. So they had sent Garal and Tibanvori to fetch it—Garal because the other Geck were so uncomfortable leaving the ship, but Ingray wasn’t sure why Tibanvori would have come, or played along with the suggestion that it was actually the Geck ambassador herself who’d been involved. Unless Tibanvori hadn’t realized that until now. Ingray thought Tibanvori likely would have refused to come if she’d known—there was no treaty violation if the Omkem shot Tic’s mech, and she wasn’t inclined to be helpful to the Geck generally.

  Garal continued. “We don’t trust the Hwaeans with what you’ve left back in the lareum any more than we trust you with it. It’s essential that we do this as soon as possible.”

  “And in a way that doesn’t break the treaty,” said Ambassador Tibanvori emphatically, with a sidelong glance at Garal.

  “We won’t break the treaty,” Garal replied, serious and even. “And you’re here, Ambassador, to be sure that we don’t.”

  Tibanvori rolled her eyes. “All of you,” she said, her voice disgusted. “I’ve had it with all of you.”

  “I’ll go with them,” said Chenns into the silence that followed.

  Commander Hatqueban asked, as though Chenns hadn’t spoken, “Who killed Excellency Zat?”

  “Not me,” said Garal. “I was with Ingray the whole time, and besides I had no reason to kill her. She was arrogant and abrasive, it’s true, but that’s generally not something I consider grounds for murder.” The commander didn’t reply. “Ingray didn’t do it, either. You really ought to let her go.”

  “No,” said Commander Hatqueban.

  Garal looked at Ingray. “Sorry. I tried.”

  “Is there another one with you?” asked Commander Hatqueban. “Another Geck? We can’t see any, but I’m sure it’s here.”

  “No,” said Garal. “No, we didn’t bring anyone else here. We didn’t want to risk another … incident.” Commander Hatqueban didn’t answer or even move, and Garal continued. “You’d know if there was, you detected the ambassador, even though the Hwaeans never did. We’re not here for anything but what we already said we were. Anything more …” E made a wry expression. “That would be interfering with an internal human dispute, and that would break the treaty. I wish I could interfere, though. Ingray is my friend, and if anything happens to her …” Ingray hardly dared breathe, sure that if she moved one muscle she would fall sobbing to the floor.

  “If anything happens to her, you won’t be able to do anything about it,” said Tibanvori sharply. “So you can just stop implying that you will, before we end up with another interspecies incident.”

  “I’ll go with them,” Chenns said again. “If I don’t come back you’ll know something’s wrong.”

  “It was an accident,” said Commander Hatqueban, to Ambassador Tibanvori. “Will yo
u tell them that?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Tibanvori said drily. “I make no guarantees. You really shouldn’t go around shooting at things.”

  Still in the clutch of a mech, Prolocutor Dicat gave a bark of laughter. “You should talk, Radchaai.”

  Tibanvori shot em an irritated glance. “I represent all humans in this matter. I don’t want the treaty broken any more than you do. But I can’t promise anything.”

  “I suppose we’ll just have to live with that,” said the commander. She gestured at Chenns. “Go with them.”

  As Chenns, Tibanvori, and Garal passed, Garal said, “I’m sorry, Ingray. I really can’t do anything.”

  “I kn …” Ingray swallowed. “I know. The treaty …” Her voice failed her.

  “At least there’s somebody sensible here,” said Tibanvori, and set off into the lareum, Chenns and Garal following.

  Ingray couldn’t bring herself to turn and watch them walk away. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to move when Commander Hatqueban ordered them to start walking again. But she did, found herself walking alongside Nicale as though someone else were moving her legs and feet. The tears that had threatened just moments ago had receded, though she still felt the knife edge of panic. Once, when she had been small, and the Aughskolds were on their way to a public reception, Nuncle Lak had taken her hand and leaned down to tell her that if she was afraid, she should look around and take notice of all the people and things that were frightening, and then of all the ones that might help her. What if there’s no one and nothing? she’d thought but not dared say, but e had been right, it had helped, even just to know where the bathrooms were in case of a humiliating accident, or to notice who in the crowd were Netano’s supporters and disposed to think kindly of Netano’s children as a consequence.

  There wasn’t much potential help here. Nicale, maybe, and the prolocutor. Chenns at least tried to seem kind, but of course he was going back to the lareum with … but Ingray wasn’t going to think about that. She was going to be calm and sensible, and walk alongside Nicale, behind Commander Hatqueban, down the corridor to the First Assembly Chambers.

  As important as the First Assembly was, the room where it met was relatively small, at least as Assembly Chambers went—a little over twelve meters wide and long. There were after all only eight representatives in the First Assembly, one for each of six Hwaean outstations, Hwae Station itself, and the prolocutor, who presided and represented all of the First Assembly to the Overassembly. But the meeting room proper was circled by a wide gallery, set a meter higher than the center, with ramps down to where eight backed and cushioned benches and a few low tables surrounded a diorite plinth—just like the one that supported the Rejection of Obligations. Or had supported it. On this plinth, in its own glass case, sat the Assembly Bell—a deep, two-handled bowl of blue-and-purple glazed pottery. Next to it under the glass was a large plain wooden spoon.

  The mech holding Prolocutor Dicat marched down the nearest ramp and settled em incongruously gently on a bench. Ingray and Nicale followed. “Sit,” ordered Commander Hatqueban, standing by the Assembly Bell plinth, still holding her gun, still entirely armored, and gestured at the benches. Nicale sat on a bench near the one Prolocutor Dicat sat on, and Ingray nearly collapsed onto the one beside Nicale. It was cushioned and definitely more comfortable than sitting on the hard lareum floor. That was good. That counted as a help, even if it was a tiny, mostly useless one.

  The mech that had been carrying Prolocutor Dicat had moved up another ramp to stand on the far side of the room. Another had taken up a position at the door they’d come in. It seemed as though a session had been in progress when the Federacy had attacked. Things were strewn across the low tables between the benches—a cup and decanter here, a handheld and stylus there, even a pair of shoes sticking out from beneath the bench Ingray sat on. If Prolocutor Dicat had been here instead of in the lareum, e would have escaped entirely. Or, no, Prolocutor Dicat had been here. The younger one, at any rate. This Prolocutor Dicat had chosen to meet a crèche trip instead. There was a gilded decanter on the table nearest Ingray, and a cup half full of serbat. It had obviously been sitting there undisturbed for a couple of days at least.

  The commander stood silent by the plinth for several minutes. Nicale and the prolocutor sat silent on their own benches. Ingray clutched at her creased and grimy skirts and looked sidelong at the cup of serbat on the table beside her. Some of the liquid had evaporated and left a white line on the side of the cup, just above the surface of the serbat itself. There was probably dust in it, too. Entirely unappetizing, but Ingray realized she was thirsty. She clutched her skirts harder to keep herself from reaching for the decanter to see if there was anything drinkable in it.

  After a while Chenns came into the Chambers, helmet in his hand. Blue blood smeared his armored forearm. “They’re gone,” he said, in Yiir. Whether because he’d been speaking that language the last while and was still thinking in it, or because he wanted them all to hear and understand what he was saying, Ingray wasn’t sure. “Mx Ket insisted on getting … all of the ambassador, and it took a while to find … well, we got all of her. I had Mx Ket say it in Ambassador Tibanvori’s hearing, that e agreed we’d gotten everything, and Ambassador Tibanvori agreed she’d heard em say it. Mx Ket refused to speak any further about the issue, e said e wasn’t authorized to do that. But Tibanvori said it might work out mostly all right, she doesn’t think the Geck want the treaty broken any more than we do.”

  Prolocutor Dicat had been silent all this time, but now e said, “Of course the easiest way to make it work out would be to hand the ambassador’s killer over to the Geck.”

  For a moment no one replied. Ingray wondered why the prolocutor would say something so guaranteed to distress or even frighten their captors. Then she remembered Ambassador Tibanvori saying that things like this couldn’t be planned on the spur of the moment. The commander had failed to take control of the First Assembly, but she couldn’t just leave, or she probably would have. No, she must have to achieve at least something before … before more Omkem ships arrived? At any rate, she was working with limited time. And that was before Commander Hatqueban had thought they’d shot the Geck ambassador. The business with Garal taking the mech away, with Tibanvori saying she’d try to straighten it out, doubtless came as quite a relief to Commander Hatqueban.

  But Prolocutor Dicat was shrewd enough to realize that the more flustered or frightened their captors were, the more likely they would make a mistake. Of course, that mistake was as likely to be fatal to Ingray or Nicale or the prolocutor emself as it was to injure the Omkem. Ingray shivered as she realized the prolocutor was surely shrewd enough to realize that, too. No one was looking at her but she clutched her skirts tighter to keep her hands from trembling.

  “I’ll patch that leak when the pressure drops,” said Commander Hatqueban, still in Yiir. “Prolocutor, can you open this case?”

  “I imagine it’s under the authority of the Assembly’s vestige keeper,” said Prolocutor Dicat. “He’ll be the one who knows how to open it.”

  “He’s not here,” said Commander Hatqueban.

  “What a pity,” replied Prolocutor Dicat, drily.

  Silence. Commander Hatqueban didn’t reply. Then Chenns said, in Bantia, “Every child in every Hwaean crèche knows what the Assembly Bell is, and that the First Assembly can’t do business without it. I know—I’ve tried to explain to the commander—that it’s futile to think that holding you hostage affects First Assembly business at all.” Prolocutor Dicat snorted, contemptuous. “The commander doesn’t understand Hwae. But then, if she’d understood, she’d have let you go with the children, before I could convince her of the importance of some of the vestiges here. And then we wouldn’t have anyone who could open this case for us.”

  “Open the case, excellency,” said Commander Hatqueban, in Yiir.

  Prolocutor Dicat looked at Commander Hatqueban a moment, then said, “Or else you’ll shoot
Miss Aughskold? Or will it be Miss Tai?”

  “Either one,” agreed Commander Hatqueban. “And if you still refuse, the other.”

  “If I say I’ll open the case,” asked Prolocutor Dicat, “will you let Excellency Tai and Excellency Aughskold go?”

  “You don’t ask to be released yourself?” asked Chenns.

  “I’m dispensable,” replied Prolocutor Dicat, eir voice cold.

  “Not to us, Prolocutor,” returned Chenns.

  “Let them go, and then I’ll open it for you,” said the prolocutor. Voice still cold and even.

  “No,” said Commander Hatqueban.

  “If we let them go,” Excellency Chenns pointed out, “you have only to refuse to open it for us, and we have no way to compel you.”

  “But you don’t actually need me to open the case, excellency,” said Prolocutor Dicat. “One of your mechs could break it open for you. It probably wouldn’t take more than a minute.”

  Ingray blinked, and then tried very hard not to otherwise visibly react to what the prolocutor had said. If the commander had one of her mechs smash the glass, alarms would go off. Nicale had said, back in the lareum, that the doors would close. The Omkem would be trapped here. Or at least it would take them time to get out.

  Was that why all the mechs Nicale and the prolocutor had seen before were somewhere else? Because if the alarm was triggered by accident they’d all be trapped and it would be easier to contain them? Or maybe just make it more difficult for them to defend the path back to the freighters the mech had come on. Or the freighters themselves.

  But in that case, why were the commander and the ethnographer still here in person? When it came time to open the case—this one, or the one back in the lareum—wouldn’t it have been better to have only more or less disposable mechs present, so that if they were trapped when alarms went off, at least there would be no people lost?

  They’re cut off, Ingray realized. Or if not cut off, getting back to the freighter they’d come on must be riskier than staying here. Maybe Hwae System Defense was already pressing the Omkem. That, on top of the time limit Ingray guessed the commander was working under. Add in worry over the reaction of the Geck to the apparent murder of their ambassador. Commander Hatqueban was under a lot of stress right now, and maybe without many resources. There must be some way to push her into making some kind of mistake that would give System Defense a chance to finish this.

 

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