by Ann Leckie
“Ascended saints, Ingray, I’m not here to start a fight!”
“Then why are you here, Danach?” asked Taucris.
“Because …” He stopped. Frowned even more intently than he already was. “What are you going to demand in return?”
Taucris gave an incredulous hah. But Ingray said, “No, it’s a good question. And the answer is, I don’t want anything. But if it makes you feel better, if you get to be prolocutor, I want you to investigate conditions in Compassionate Removal.”
“That won’t be very popular,” Danach pointed out. “They’re criminals.”
“Suit yourself,” said Ingray, and turned to go.
“Look, Ingray.” He sounded almost angry. “When I thought—when I knew that Mama was going to pick you, I was … that was hard. I was upset. It wasn’t fair. It was just luck, you being in the right place at the right time. But I knew I was going to have to work with you. I decided that I would, that I was going to make it work. And then … look, just … It’s the one thing I wanted most in my whole life. If it had been me, I would never have turned it down for you.”
“I know,” said Ingray. If he hadn’t been family, if he had been some political opponent of Mama’s, Ingray would have given him her sweetest smile right now. But he knew where that smile had come from, had his own version he could deploy when he needed it. And besides, he was trying. He had almost thanked her, even though it had obviously cost him to even come close to it. Even though he couldn’t resist protesting as he did so. “I didn’t do it for you. But you’re welcome.” He didn’t move. “You’re probably awfully busy right now. I appreciate your coming to talk to me. But I have to board the shuttle.”
“Changing anything about Compassionate Removal will be tricky,” he said. “I’ll probably have better luck if the issue is raised by district voters, instead of me just bringing it to the Assembly. Better yet if it came from the voters of more than one district.”
“Yes,” agreed Ingray. “I’m already starting on that part. It would be nice to have your help, though. Or at least nice to have you consider helping.”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. You’ll know how to do that.” He sounded as though the words didn’t want to leave his mouth. “Let me know if you need anything. I have to go now, I have a lot of things I need to take care of. Have a good trip.” And he turned and left.
“Just luck, he said!” Taucris’s voice was disbelieving. “In the right place at the right time!”
“Well, it kind of was.”
“It wasn’t, either!” insisted Taucris. “But I suppose it’s good he knows how much he owes you.”
“I suppose it is,” agreed Ingray. She turned toward the shuttle entrance and saw a knot of children in blue-and-yellow tunics and trousers staring at her, two Station Safety officers standing behind them.
“Miss Ingray!” cried one child. “Are you going on the elevator with us?”
“It looks like I am,” said Ingray. “But where’s your caretaker?”
“He ran away and left us in the lareum,” said another child, to the evident distress of several other of the children. “He has to find a new job now.”
“Shh!” said another child. “You’re not supposed to say that!”
“We’re escorting the children down the elevator, miss,” said one of the Station Safety officers.
“Well, it looks like we’re traveling together,” said Ingray.
“We were interviewed by the news service!” exclaimed one of the children.
“Miss Ingray has been interviewed millions of times,” said the first child, clearly trying to chart a course between knowledgeably bored, and excited by the idea of such celebrity.
“It’s been an adventure, hasn’t it,” Ingray said. “But I’m ready to go home and rest and just be safe. Aren’t you?” The children noisily agreed. “This is my friend Planetary Safety Officer Taucris Ithesta.”
“Hello, Officer Ithesta,” the children chorused.
“We need to board the shuttle, kids,” said one of the Station Safety officers.
“If they leave without us,” cried a child, “Miss Ingray will hit them with her shoe!” The children laughed, and the Station Safety officers tried not to.
“It wasn’t my shoe!” protested Ingray.
“It’s better not to threaten the shuttle staff, though,” said Taucris as the Station Safety officers herded the children away.
“Officer Ithesta is right,” said one of the Station Safety officers. “Come on, Miss Ingray will be on the shuttle with us.”
“We’ll try not to let them bother you too much,” said the other officer. “But …” She waved vaguely toward the children, chattering now as they made their way to the shuttle entrance.
“Well,” observed Taucris as the last of the children boarded, “it won’t be a boring trip, anyway. Do we have everything?”
Ingray looked behind her, at the emptying lobby, the shifting images on the wall above; the image of the archprolocutor making the last payment to the Tyr Executory had come around again. “I’m pretty sure we do.” She took Taucris’s hand, and they walked together away from the noise and crowd of the station, toward the shuttle bound for the elevator, and home.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my fabulous editors Will Hinton (Orbit US) and Jenni Hill (Orbit UK) for all their help turning my manuscript into a much better book. Thanks also to my wonderful agent, Seth Fishman.
Thanks to Crystal Huff, Margo-Lea Hurwicz, Ada Palmer, Anna and Kurt Schwind, Rachel and Mike Swirsky, Juliette Wade, and Jo Walton for incredibly helpful advice, comments, and discussion while I was writing the book.
I will always have a grateful shout-out for my local libraries: St. Louis County Library, St. Louis County Library Consortium, St. Louis Public Library, the Webster University Library, and University of Missouri St. Louis’s Thomas Jefferson Library. And to all the interlibrary loans librarians out there—you rule. Libraries are a public good. They make the world a better place. Please support your local libraries whatever way you can, even if it’s just checking out books.
And as always, thanks to my husband, Dave, and my children, Aidan and Gawain. They’ve always been a hundred percent behind this writing thing, and I am grateful and fortunate to have their help and support.
Meet the Author
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By Ann Leckie
THE IMPERIAL RADCH TRILOGY
Ancillary Justice
Ancillary Sword
Ancillary Mercy
Provenance