my game. It was. Choose a seat. The omens will fall where they fall.
Before I could make myself sit, Skaaiat Awer came into the room. As modestly jeweled as when she was working, but I’d seen the pale-yellow fabric of her elegantly cut jacket on a bolt at that expensive clothier’s shop. On her right sleeve cuff that cheap, machine-stamped gold tag flashed.
She bowed. “Honored Breq. Citizen Seivarden. How good to see you both. I see Adjunct Ceit has given you tea.” Seivarden and I acknowledged this with polite gestures. “Let me say, before anyone else arrives, that I’m hoping you’ll both stay to supper.”
“You tried to warn us yesterday, didn’t you?” asked Seivarden.
“Seivarden,” I began.
Inspector Supervisor Skaaiat raised one elegantly yellow-gloved hand. “It’s all right, honored. I knew Captain Vel prided herself on being old-fashioned. On knowing how much better things were when children respected their elders and good taste and refined manners were the rule. All familiar enough, I’m sure you heard such talk a thousand years ago, citizen.” Seivarden gave a small, acknowledging ha. “I’m sure you heard all about how Radchaai have a duty to bring civilization to humanity. And that ancillaries are far more efficient for that purpose than human soldiers.”
“Well, as to that,” said Seivarden, “I’d say they are.”
“Of course you would.” Skaaiat showed a small flash of anger. Seivarden probably couldn’t see it, didn’t know her well enough. “You probably don’t know, citizen, that I commanded human troops during an annexation myself.” Seivarden hadn’t known that. Her surprise was obvious. I had known, of course. My lack of surprise would be obvious to Station. To Anaander Mianaai.
There was no point in worrying about it. “It’s true,” Skaaiat continued, “that you don’t have to pay ancillaries, and they never have personal problems. They do whatever you ask them to, without any sort of complaint or comment, and they do it well and completely. And that wasn’t true of my human troops. And most of my soldiers were good people, but it’s so easy, isn’t it, to decide the people you’re fighting aren’t really human. Or maybe you have to do it, to be able to kill them. People like Captain Vel love pointing out the atrocities that human troops have committed, that ancillaries never would. As though making those ancillaries was not an atrocity in itself.
“They’re more efficient, as I said.” In Ors, Skaaiat would have been sarcastic on this topic, but she spoke seriously. Carefully and precisely. “And if we were still expanding we would have to still use them. Because we couldn’t do it with human soldiers, not for long. And we’re built to expand, we’ve been expanding for more than two thousand years and to stop will mean completely changing what we are. Right now most people don’t see that, don’t care. They won’t, until it affects their lives directly, and for most people it doesn’t yet. It’s an abstract question, except to people like Captain Vel.”
“But Captain Vel’s opinion is meaningless,” said Seivarden. “So is anyone else’s. The Lord of the Radch has decided, for whatever reason. And it’s foolish to go around saying anything against it.”
“She might decide otherwise, if persuaded,” answered Skaaiat. All of us still standing. I was too tense to sit, Seivarden too agitated, Skaaiat, I thought, angry. Daos Ceit standing frozen, trying to pretend she wasn’t hearing any of this. “Or the decision might be a sign that the Lord of the Radch has been corrupted in some way. Captain Vel’s sort certainly doesn’t approve of all the talking with aliens we’ve been doing. The Radch has always stood for civilization, and civilization has always meant pure, uncorrupted humanity. Actually dealing with nonhumans instead of just killing them can’t be good for us.”
“Is that what that business at Ime was about?” asked Seivarden, who had clearly spent our walk here thinking about this. “Someone decided to set up a base and stockpile ancillaries and… and what? Force the issue? You’re talking about rebellion. Treason. Why would anyone be talking about something like that now? Unless, when they got the people responsible for Ime, they didn’t get everyone. And now they’re letting a few people put their heads up and make some noise, and once they think everyone involved has identified themselves…” She was openly angry now. It was a fairly good guess, it might well be more or less right. Depending on which Anaander had the upper hand here. “Why didn’t you warn us?”
“I tried,