“Imagine some enemy separated part of you from yourself.”
Not what I had been expecting. What is it people say, when that happens? They’re divided. They’re of two minds.
“Imagine that enemy managed to forge or force its way past all the necessary accesses. And that part of you came back to you—but wasn’t really part of you anymore. But you didn’t realize it. Not right away.”
You and I, we really can be of two minds, can’t we.
“That’s a very alarming thought, my lord.”
“It is,” agreed Anaander Mianaai, all the time sitting in the Var decade room, inspecting the corridors and rooms of the Var deck. Watching Lieutenant Awn, alone again, and miserable. Gesturing through my mind, on the central access deck. Or so she thought. “I don’t know precisely who has done it. I suspect the involvement of the Presger. They have been meddling in our affairs since before the Treaty. And after—five hundred years ago, the best surgicals and correctives were made in Radch space. Now we buy from the Presger. At first only at border stations, but now they’re everywhere. Eight hundred years ago the Translators Office was a collection of minor officials who assisted in the interpretation of extra-Radch intelligence, and who smoothed linguistic problems during annexations. Now they dictate policy. Chief among them the Emissary to the Presger.” The last sentence was spoken with audible distaste. “Before the Treaty, the Presger destroyed a few ships. Now they destroy all of Radch civilization.
“Expansion, annexation, is very expensive. Necessary—it has been from the beginning. From the first, to surround the Radch itself with a buffer zone, protecting it from any sort of attack or interference. Later, to protect those citizens. And to expand the reach of civilization. And…” Mianaai stopped, gave a short, exasperated sigh. “To pay for the previous annexations. To provide wealth for Radchaai in general.”
“My lord, what do you suspect the Presger of having done?” But I knew. Even with my memory obscured and incomplete, I knew.
“Divided me. Corrupted part of me. And the corruption has spread, the other me has been recruiting—not only more parts of me but also my own citizens. My own soldiers.” My own ships. “My own ships. I can only guess what her goal is. But it can’t be anything good.”
“Do I understand correctly,” I asked, already knowing the answer, “that this other Anaander Mianaai is the force behind the ending of annexations?”
“She will destroy everything I’ve built!” I had never seen the Lord of the Radch so frustrated and angry. Had not thought her capable of it. “Do you realize—there’s no reason you should ever have thought of it—that it’s the appropriation of resources during annexations that drives our economy?”
“I am afraid, my lord, that I am only a troop carrier and have never concerned myself with such things. But what you say makes sense.”
“And you. I doubt you’re looking forward to losing your ancillaries.”
Outside me my distant companions, the Justices parked around the system, sat silent, waiting. How many of them had received this visit—or both these visits? “I am not, my lord.”
“I can’t promise that I can prevent it. I’m not prepared for open warfare. All my moves are in secret, pushing here, pulling there, making sure of my resources and support. But in the end, she is me, and there is little I can do she will not already have thought of. She has outmaneuvered me several times already. It’s why I have been so cautious in approaching you. I wanted to be sure she had not already suborned you.”
I felt it was safer not to comment on that, and instead said, through One Var, “My lord, the guns in the lake, in Ors.” Was that your enemy? I almost asked, but if we were faced with two Anaanders, each opposing the other, how did anyone know which was which?
“Events in Ors didn’t come out precisely the way I wished,” answered Anaander Mianaai. “I never expected anyone would find those guns, but if some Orsian fisherman had found them and said nothing, or even taken them, my purpose would still have been served.” Instead, Denz Ay had reported her find to Lieutenant Awn. The Lord of the Radch hadn’t expected that, I saw, hadn’t thought the Orsians trusted Lieutenant Awn that much. “I didn’t get what I wanted there, but perhaps the results will still serve my purpose. Hundred Captain Rubran is about to receive orders to depart this system for Valskaay. It was past time for you to leave, and you would have a year ago, if not for the Divine of Ikkt’s insistence that Lieutenant Awn stay, and my own opposition. Whether knowingly or not, Lieutenant Awn is the instrument of my enemy, I’m certain of it.”
I did not trust even One Var’s impassivity to answer that, and therefore did not speak. Above, on the central access deck, the Lord of the Radch continued to make changes, give orders, alter my thoughts. Still believing she could in fact do that.