Ancillary Justice (Imperial Radch #1) - Ann Leckie Page 0,88

and unsure what I might do if I received that order. I was all of myself. Taken as separate from me, One Esk was fonder of Lieutenant Awn than I was. But One Esk was not separate from me. It was, at the moment, very much part of me.

Still, One Esk was only one small part of me. And I had shot officers before. I had even, under orders, shot my own captain. But those executions, distressing and unpleasant as they had been, had clearly been just. The penalty for disobedience is death.

Lieutenant Awn had never disobeyed. Far from it. And worse, her death was meant to hide the actions of Anaander Mianaai’s enemy. The entire purpose of my existence was to oppose Anaander Mianaai’s enemies.

But neither Mianaai was ready to move openly. I must conceal from this Mianaai the fact that she herself had already bound me to the opposing cause, until all was in readiness. I must, for the moment, obey as though I had no other choice, as though I desired nothing else. And in the end, in the great scheme of things, what was Lieutenant Awn, after all? Her parents would grieve, and her sister, and they would likely be ashamed that Lieutenant Awn had disgraced them by disobedience. But they wouldn’t question. And if they questioned, it would do no good. Anaander Mianaai’s secret would be safe.

All this I thought in the 1.3 seconds it took for Lieutenant Awn, shocked and terrified, to reflexively raise her head. And in that same time, the segment of One Var said, “I am unarmed, my lord. It will take me approximately two minutes to acquire a sidearm.”

It was betrayal, to Lieutenant Awn, I saw it plainly. But she must have known I had no other choice. “This is unjust,” she said, head still up. Voice unsteady. “It’s improper. No benefit will accrue.”

“Who are your fellow conspirators?” asked Mianaai, coldly. “Name them and I may spare your life.”

Half lifted up, hands under her shoulders, Lieutenant Awn blinked in complete confusion, bewilderment that was surely as visible to Mianaai as it was to me. “Conspirators? I have never conspired with anyone. I have always served you.”

Above, on the command deck, I said in Captain Rubran’s ear, “Captain, we have a problem.”

“Serving me,” said Anaander Mianaai, “is no longer sufficient. No longer sufficiently unambiguous. Which me do you serve?”

“Wh—” began Lieutenant Awn, and “Th—” And then, “I don’t understand.”

“What problem?” asked Captain Rubran, bowl of tea halfway to her mouth, only mildly alarmed.

“I am at war with myself,” said Mianaai, in the Var decade room. “I have been for nearly a thousand years.”

To Captain Rubran I said, “I need One Esk to be sedated.”

“At war,” Anaander Mianaai continued on Var deck, “over the future of the Radch.”

Something must have come suddenly clear for Lieutenant Awn. I saw a sharp, pure rage in her. “Annexations and ancillaries, and people like me being assigned to the military.”

“I don’t understand you, Ship,” said Captain Rubran, her voice even but definitely worried now. She set down her tea on the table beside her.

“Over the treaty with the Presger,” said Mianaai, angrily. “The rest followed from that. Whether you know it or not, you are the instrument of my enemy.”

“And Mercy of Sarrse One Amaat One exposed whatever it was you were doing at Ime,” said Lieutenant Awn, her anger still clear and steady. “That was you. The system governor was making ancillaries—you needed them for your war with yourself, didn’t you. And I’m sure that’s not all she was doing for you. Is that why that soldier had to die even if it meant extra trouble getting her back from the Rrrrrr? And I…”

“I’m still standing by, Ship,” said Lieutenant Dariet, in the Esk decade room. “But I don’t like this.”

“Mercy of Sarrse One Amaat One knew almost nothing, but in the hands of the Rrrrrr, she was a piece that my enemy might use against me. As an officer on a troop carrier, you are nothing, but in a position of even minor planetary authority, with the potential backing of Skaaiat Awer to help you increase your influence, you are a potential danger to me. I could have just maneuvered you out of Ors, out of Awer’s way. But I wanted more. I wanted a graphic argument against recent decisions and policies. Had that fisherman not found the guns, or not reported them to you, had events that night gone as I wished, I