Ancillary Sword Read Free Page A

“Wouldn’t you have felt the same?” When I had been in Five’s place, she meant. When I had been a ship.
    “No, I wouldn’t have. I didn’t. Some other ships did. Do.” Mostly
Swords
, who by and large already thought they were above the smaller, less prestigious
Mercies
, or the troop carrier
Justices
.
    “My Seven Issas cared about that sort of thing.” Skaaiat Awer had served as a lieutenant on a ship with human troops, before she’d become Inspector Supervisor here at Omaugh Palace. Her eyes went to my single piece of jewelry, a small gold tag pinned near my left shoulder. She gestured, a change of topic that wasn’t really a change of topic. “Athoek, is it?” My destination hadn’t been publicly announced, might, in fact, be considered sensitive information. But Awer was one of the most ancient and wealthy of houses. Skaaiat had cousins who knew people who knew things. “I’m not sure that’s where I’d have sent you.”
    “It’s where I’m going.”
    She accepted that answer, no surprise or offense visible in her expression. “Have a seat. Tea?”
    “Thank you, no.” Actually I could have used some tea, might under other circumstances have been glad of a relaxed chat with Skaaiat Awer, but I was anxious to be off.
    This, too, Inspector Supervisor Skaaiat took with equanimity. She did not sit, herself. “You’ll be calling on BasnaaidElming when you get to Athoek Station.” Not a question. She knew I would be. Basnaaid was the younger sister of someone both Skaaiat and I had once loved. Someone I had, under orders from Anaander Mianaai, killed. “She’s like Awn, in some ways, but not in others.”
    “Stubborn, you said.”
    “Very proud. And fully as stubborn as her sister. Possibly more so. She was very offended when I offered her clientage for her sister’s sake. I mention it because I suspect you’re planning to do something similar. And you might be the only person alive even more stubborn than she is.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “Not even the tyrant?” The word wasn’t Radchaai, was from one of the worlds annexed and absorbed by the Radch. By Anaander Mianaai. The tyrant herself, almost the only person on Omaugh Palace who would have recognized or understood the word, besides Skaaiat and myself.
    Skaaiat Awer’s mouth quirked, sardonic humor. “Possibly. Possibly not. In any event, be very careful about offering Basnaaid money or favors. She won’t take it kindly.” She gestured, good-natured but resigned, as if to say,
but of course you’ll do as you like
. “You’ll have met your new baby lieutenant.”
    Lieutenant Tisarwat, she meant. “Why did she come here and not go directly to the shuttle?”
    “She came to apologize to my adjunct.” Daos Ceit’s replacement, there in the outer office. “Their mothers are cousins.” Formally, the word Skaaiat used referred to a relation between two people of different houses who shared a parent or a grandparent, but in casual use meant someone more distantly related who was a friend, or someone you’d grown up with. “They were supposed to meet for tea yesterday, andTisarwat never showed or answered any messages. And you know how military gets along with dock authorities.” Which was to say, overtly politely and privately contemptuously. “My adjunct took offense.”
    “Why should Lieutenant Tisarwat care?”
    “You never had a mother to be angry you offended her cousin,” Skaaiat said, half laughing, “or you wouldn’t ask.”
    True enough. “What do you make of her?”
    “Flighty, I would have said a day or two ago. But today she’s very subdued.”
Flighty
didn’t match the collected young person I’d seen in that outer office. Except, perhaps, those impossible eyes. “Until today she was on her way to a desk job in a border system.”
    “The tyrant sent me a baby
administrator
?”
    “I wouldn’t have thought she’d send you a baby anything,” Skaaiat said. “I’d have thought she’d have wanted to