Provenance

by Ann Leckie

  “Move not,” ordered Commander Hatqueban, and slowly, deliberately, walked toward the mechs.

  She knows, thought Ingray. But what could she do? Nothing but lie still in the mech’s grip as the commander walked right up to the mech that held Ingray, pulled her sidearm, and fired.

  The mech lurched. Commander Hatqueban grabbed Ingray’s arm and pointed the gun at Ingray’s head. “No one move,” the commander said, in Yiir. “Or I will shoot Miss Aughskold.”

  Ingray wanted to shout in fear and frustration. But Specialist Nakal had said that Hwae System Defense had taken over the Omkem freighters, and the mechs. There must be System Defense troops nearby, ready to help. The question was, could they get here before Hatqueban fired? Was there anything she could do? She thought of Nicale, unconscious and bleeding, held by another mech. The commander had been pointing a gun at Nicale when Ingray had triggered the alarm, and Nicale had ended up shot. So maybe trying to surprise the commander right now wasn’t a very good idea. Then again, things hadn’t gone the way the commander had wanted them to, because of what Ingray had done.

  “Get down, Miss Aughskold,” said Commander Hatqueban, still holding Ingray’s arm. “You and I and Excellency Chenns are going to walk undisturbed to the Omkem Chancery.”

  “You won’t get that far,” said Specialist Nakal.

  “That’s as may be,” said Commander Hatqueban, as Ingray tightened her grip on the heavy shoe nearest her hand and swung it at Commander Hatqueban’s gun.

  There was a deafening bang, and a pain along her forearm, enough to make her vision go black for an instant, for her to drop the shoe. Was she shot? But she didn’t have time to worry about it. She squirmed in the mech’s grip despite the flare of pain from her arm, grabbed the second shoe with her other hand, and smacked it into Hatqueban’s faceplate once, twice, as more gunfire sounded, and then the commander staggered back.

  Or, no, the commander had been pulled back, by two blue-and-gold-armored Hwae System Defense troops. Behind

  her, on the ground, lay Chenns, helmet still in his hand. “Is Chenns …” Ingray tried to make some sense out of what she was seeing, what had just happened. “Is he …?”

  “No need to worry about him anymore,” said Specialist Nakal. “He should have kept his helmet on.”

  “Let us help you down, miss,” said another blue-and-gold-armored figure who was suddenly in front of Ingray, cutting off her view of Chenns and Commander Hatqueban. “Char can’t walk, the commander did something to his mech.”

  “Good to know that’s a vulnerable spot, though,” said Specialist Nakal, cheerily. “And were they ever right about you, miss.”

  “Have you been shot, miss?” asked the blue-and-gold-armored soldier, as the other two Omkem mechs turned and began lumbering back toward the Assembly Chambers. Or Ingray thought that was what she saw; she was having trouble concentrating on anything but the pain in her arm. “We need to get you to a doctor and get you looked at.”

  “Don’t worry about me!” exclaimed Ingray, heart racing. “You should take care of Nicale Tai first! And the prolocutor.”

  “No question, miss.” A medimech trundled up. “The prolocutor is fine, and Miss Tai’s already on a medimech and she’ll be with a doctor in just a few seconds. Here’s your ride.”

  “I can walk!” Ingray insisted. Though she wasn’t actually sure she could.

  “I’m sure you can,” agreed the soldier as Specialist Nakal lowered her to sit on the medimech. “The question is, should you. I’m thinking not.”

  There was blood all over her sleeve, and her skirts. But the medimech would scan her and take her to a doctor. With a lurch it started into motion.

  “Wait!” cried the soldier. “Don’t forget your shoes, miss.” And he bent to pick them up and ran to set them in her lap.

  “They’re not my shoes!” she protested. But faintly, and the medimech had moved away, and if anyone answered she didn’t hear.

  19

  A neman in a lungi and a loose, long shirt met the medimech as it trundled into the Assembly corridor. “Miss Aughskold,” e said as e walked alongside. “Let’s get you checked out and get correctives on that knee and that arm.”

  “Nicale?” asked Ingray. She sniffled, finding herself suddenly teary again, and wiped her eyes.

  “She’s headed to surgery now. Lie back. I’ll bring the headrest up if you like.”

  “Please,” said Ingray. A blue-and-gold-uniformed soldier came from somewhere ahead and set a cup of serbat in her good hand. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, miss,” said the soldier, and turned and left.

  “Lean back, now,” said the doctor, and she did, and tried raising the cup to her mouth. Her hand shook, but she managed it. She caught the warm, spicy smell of the serbat. Took a sip and closed her eyes. “You’re a little dehydrated,” said the doctor. “Blood sugar’s low. The knee is sprained, which I’m sure you already know. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital, thank the almighty powers, it’s basically a graze, though I’m sure it hurts quite a lot. You’ll be up and around in no time.”

  “And Prolocutor Dicat? Is e all right?” She opened her eyes. Took another sip of serbat. It was obviously instant, and it was the best serbat she’d ever tasted.

  “Our prolocutor’s a tough old bird,” said the doctor, approvingly. “It’d take more than a few soldiers to ruffle em.”

  “Yes,” agreed Ingray.

  They exited into the wide station corridor outside the First Assembly Chambers. The space was full of people. Not visiting children or officials or representatives’ staff, but soldiers in the blue-and-gold uniform of Hwae System Defense, with here and there a few civilians. Or at least they wore civilian clothes.

  “Ingray!” Netano, striding toward where Ingray lay on the medimech. Almost running, the closest to disarray that Ingray had ever seen her mother. Which was to say her jacket was slightly askew and her expression was one of clear distress. “Ingray, dear, are you all right?”

  Ingray knew a performance when she saw one. But then, Netano lived a life that meant her every public move had to be carefully considered, sincere or not. Ingray had to some extent been living that life herself. And she couldn’t stop a fresh spate of tears. “I’m fine, Mama.” Someone died. People got shot because of me. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I want to go home.”

  “You’re going to the infirmary first,” said the doctor, brusquely but not unkindly. “And I suspect Over Captain Utury is eager to speak with you.” The doctor raised eir eyebrow as e said that but didn’t comment further. “Representative Aughskold, as far as I can see your daughter has a sprained knee, and her arm is injured but not badly. She could probably use some rest and quiet, though she likely won’t get it for a while yet. I’m going to set the medimech moving again; you’re welcome to walk alongside if you like.”

  Netano took Ingray’s good elbow. “Yes. Yes, of course I’m coming along.”

  A dark gray Omkem mech loomed up out of the crowd of soldiers, two beige cardboard rectangles in one appendage, a brush in another. “Wait! Miss, it’s me, Specialist Nakal.”

  “I thought you couldn’t walk,” said Ingray. “Or your mech anyway.”

  “It still can’t. I’m borrowing this one. If you don’t mind, miss, would it be too much trouble to ask you to sign an entry ticket for me?”

  “Um,” said Ingray. She was already weeping again.

  “Miss Aughskold has other things to worry about, Specialist,” the doctor said sternly.

  “It’s all right,” said Ingray. “I don’t mind.” She handed the cup of serbat to Netano, who took one of the Assembly entry tickets and held it steady on top of one of the shoes on Ingray’s lap, and the mech handed her the brush.

  She had only ever done this for the personal sort of vestige that was of no value to anyone but herself and maybe a few friends. This was like those, in a way. There was no vestige more trivial than the entry card from some famous t
ourist stop. But in another way it was very, very different.

  Ingray Aughskold, she wrote. Surprisingly legibly, considering her hand was still shaking. And then, on reflection, thanks for the rescue. She handed the card and brush to the mech. “Now you.”

  As the mech was signing its own entry card, the doctor said, scowling at the mech, “Thinking about your vestige collection, at a time like this.”

  “Vestiges are important,” Netano said.

  “Speaking of vestiges,” ventured Ingray. “What happened to the Assembly Bell? And the Rejection of Obligations?”

  “That’s a good question, miss,” said the mech, as it handed her the signed entry card. “Thank you so much.” And it turned and lumbered away. Ingray looked at the card. It said, Nice work with that shoe, Mech-Pilot Specialist Char Nakal.

  The medimech brought Ingray to the infirmary, and within ten minutes her knee and her arm were cased in the clear, hard shells of correctives.

  “Can I leave now?” she asked the doctor who had applied the correctives, and who had also, like the doctor in front of the Assembly Chambers, looked her over and declared her otherwise uninjured.

  “You can’t leave,” said this doctor. Bored and even. “Over Captain Utury has ordered you held here until she has a chance to talk to you.”

  An hour later a mech woke Ingray from a doze as it tottered in with a box of noodles and a cup of serbat, set them on a table beside the medimech Ingray still lay on, and tottered out.

  Ingray closed her eyes and tried to send a message to her mother, but found she couldn’t connect to the system’s communications. All she got was a message saying her account had been suspended for security reasons. She sighed, and started in on the noodles.

  She was halfway through them when, of all people, Danach came into the cubicle. “Hello, Ingray,” he said. Perfectly polite and pleasant. And then, “Mama came by to see you before but you were asleep. She’s stuck with the news services right now.”

  Mama came by to see you before. For a moment Ingray wasn’t quite able to comprehend what Danach had said. “Oh,” she managed after a moment. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite place what it was, until she realized that something about the way he was standing, or talking, struck her as unfamiliar, but having seen that, she still couldn’t say quite why or how. She continued. “I’m surprised you’re on the station. Last I heard you were at home.”

  “How could I stay home when Mama was being held hostage?” Indignant. His manner instantly more familiar to her. No doubt he felt she’d all but accused him of not caring about Netano. Or, worse, of not mattering. He would certainly make some sort of jab in retaliation. But instead he turned inexplicably more subdued. “Look, Nuncle Lak is right. We’re better off if we treat each other as allies, not adversaries.”

  That wasn’t quite what Nuncle Lak had said. If I’ve thought of you as an adversary, she thought, it was because you made yourself one from the moment you met me. But then, it had come as a shock to Ingray that Nuncle Lak had ever even said such a thing to Danach to begin with, and a shock, now, that Danach would refer to it, even in a form that minimized his own responsibility.

  And it didn’t matter. For years it had seemed to Ingray as though she had no future without Netano’s approval, that if she didn’t manage the impossible task of unseating Danach, she would be a failure. Now, whether it was exhaustion and relief after the past few days, or whether it was something else, she found she didn’t feel that way anymore. Didn’t care if Danach thought he’d triumphed over her, didn’t care who Netano named her heir. Whatever happened next, it couldn’t possibly be more difficult than what she’d just been through, and she’d come through that more or less all right. Now she just wanted to go home, and have some peace and quiet.

  Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to reply to him. “Mmm,” she said, and took another mouthful of noodles.

  “You were always Nuncle Lak’s favorite.” Resentful. “It’s always been obvious.”

  Why would that matter? Why would Danach resent it, if it were true?

  And then Ingray realized. Netano would almost certainly name her heir very soon. All Danach’s anxieties about his future would be shortly relieved. He would be Netano, as he had always wanted.

  And Nuncle Lak would be his chief of staff. Nuncle Lak worked very, very closely with Netano. And even if Danach wanted to remove em from eir position at some point, there would still be the problem of who to put in eir place who might be even half as good at the job, even half as trustworthy.

  You were always Nuncle Lak’s favorite. Did Danach think Nuncle Lak wanted to make Ingray eir successor?

  Ingray almost laughed at the thought. Nuncle Lak had never even given the slightest hint that e might give eir name to Ingray. Besides, she couldn’t do Nuncle Lak’s job. She didn’t want to even try. But it would explain why Danach might feel he had to make some attempt to get along with her, even if it was difficult for him.

  Or did he think Netano might actually choose Ingray now? That he was about to lose the one thing that had always mattered most to him?

  But that was ridiculous. Netano had always favored Danach. And even if the news services’ reports about this incident made Ingray look good, well, that would be valuable to Netano whether or not Ingray was her heir. The only thing that had really changed was that Netano had every reason now to end the supposed competition between her children and name Danach heir quite soon.

  It didn’t matter to Ingray, not anymore. After the last few days she was certain her mother would never send her away. She would always be Netano’s daughter. And sister, soon enough. As long as Nuncle Lak let her keep her job, she would have her own income, and if she lost that job, she could go somewhere else. Or she could even go somewhere else right now. For a dizzying moment she imagined asking the Geck ambassador if she could go along to the Conclave. They’d have to come back through Tyr on their way home, so she’d have a way back. What would that be like?

  Or maybe she could work for Planetary Safety, like Taucris. Thinking of Taucris, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave Hwae just now. At any rate, there were quite a lot of things to choose from.

  “I don’t think it matters,” she said to Danach. “The important thing is, Mama is safe, and so is the station, and whether or not there’s fighting first, the Federacy is going to have to turn around and go home.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Danach, managing not to sound grudging. “That’s what matters.”

  “Look,” Ingray said, “I want to go home.” Or even a lodging room on the station would be better than this. Over Captain Utury could find her there, if she wanted. “I’d just get up, but …” With her good arm she gestured to her knee, then realized that the corrective was under her skirts and Danach couldn’t see it. “There’s a corrective on my knee and I can’t bend my leg and I don’t know what would happen if I tried to walk without a crutch or something. But now you’re here, you can help me. Does Mama have rooms somewhere?” Ingray was certain she did. She must.

  All of Danach’s accustomed smugness returned in full force. “Sorry, sis. I would, but I can’t. There’s a System Defense guard standing just outside to make sure you don’t leave, and, as it happens, to keep any unauthorized visitors out.”

  As he spoke, he moved over to make room for Over Captain Utury, who had appeared in the doorway. “You are not on the list of authorized visitors, Mr Aughskold,” she said. And before Danach could answer, “I’d have been here before, but urgent matters have required my attention. They still do, in fact, but I have a bit of time right now, while I’m waiting for something else.”

  “Have the Omkem not come into the system?” Ingray asked.

  “Oh, they have,” replied Over Captain Utury. “But I’m only responsible for what happens here on this station. Actually I’m waiting for orders regarding the disposition of the troops we captured, along with Commander Hatqueban. Those orders, I’m sure you realize, depend hea
vily on what’s happening out by the Enthen gate just now. Not my responsibility, as I said. Mr Aughskold, I don’t mean to keep you from your business.”

  “Of course, Over Captain,” said Danach pleasantly, with a little bow of his head. “I’ll see you later, Ingray.”

  “So, Miss Aughskold,” said Over Captain Utury, when he was gone, “I already have Prolocutor Dicat’s account of what happened. Miss Tai is still unconscious. She’s out of surgery, by the way, and she’ll be fine.”

  “It was my fault she got shot,” said Ingray, with a sudden, overwhelming rush of guilt, and relief at the news that Nicale would be all right. “I messed up.”

  “That would be an understatement,” replied Over Captain Utury. “You disobeyed my direct order to go to a civilian shelter and stay there. Do you know what the penalty is for not seeking shelter when ordered, and remaining there until given permission to leave? It’s much higher here on the station than on the planet. For very good reasons, I might add.” Ingray frowned but didn’t answer. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  “I told you what I was doing,” Ingray replied.

  “Infernal powers protect us,” said Over Captain Utury. “Do you realize what could have happened? You could all three of you have ended up dead, yes. But many more would have died if Commander Hatqueban had ever become desperate enough to order her troops to attack the station structure directly. Just three deaths to prevent that—that would have been an entirely acceptable trade. I’d say as much to Representative Aughskold’s face. I don’t have to say it to Prolocutor Dicat. E already knows.”

  “And those children?” asked Ingray.

  “This isn’t a party game,” Over Captain Utury replied. “If it were up to me you’d be looking at public censure and years of punitive labor, no matter who your mother is, no matter how many Geck friends you have. No matter who you know from Tyr Siilas.”