“Partly because it’s not actually that easy to get passage out of that system, if you’re from there,” said Captain Uisine. “But mostly because fuck them, that’s why.”
“So, is …” Ingray hesitated, not sure asking questions was a terribly good idea. But the captain seemed so much more talkative than he had been so far, and the whole situation was so bizarre. He and the ambassador so obviously knew each other. Impudent child, the ambassador had said. Ingray wanted to ask, So is the ambassador your mother? But they had only seen a mech—maybe the ambassador herself wasn’t human. “The ambassador has gills? Is she in a tank of water? Is that why she used the mech just now?”
“She might be in a tank. Probably is. But she can breathe air, too, if she needs to. She’ll have used the mech because she couldn’t bear to get off her ship. Oh, shit.”
“What?” asked Ingray.
“We’ve got a departure time, and it’s just a few hours from now. I’d better get ready. And I’d better stop drinking. Excellency”—this directed toward Garal—“I’ll be closing the airlock in a few minutes. Are you coming with Excellency Aughskold, or are you going to sleep on a bench at the Indenture Office for the next three weeks and then end up in some horrible situation that’s probably as bad as what you just got out of?”
“Nothing is as bad as what I just got out of,” said Garal. And then, “The fare’s paid? And it includes food and a place to sleep?”
“It is and it does,” Captain Uisine confirmed. “And a haircut. Tomorrow. When I’m sober.”
“Can I think about the haircut?” asked Garal.
Captain Uisine grinned, startling when he’d been so serious all the short time Ingray had known him. “I like you, Garal Ket. I don’t know why, and I probably shouldn’t, but I do. And you, Ingray Aughskold, once you get home you should steal whatever you can from your mother and get the hell away from her for good. You’ll never make a politician.”
Before Ingray could muster up any sort of reply to that, indignant or not, Garal asked, “Do you drink very often, Captain?”
“Almost never,” confessed Captain Uisine. “But don’t worry. We’ll get into the gate just fine.” He rose and squeezed past Ingray into the corridor, followed closely by another spider mech that had apparently been lurking just outside the door. And which didn’t seem the slightest bit unsteady or awkward.
“It’s not getting into the gate that worries me,” said Ingray, once the captain and his mech had moved out of earshot.
“No,” agreed Garal, “we’ve got bigger problems. Or we will, once we get to Hwae. In the meantime, I think the captain actually gave you some good advice. You said you had some sort of plan?”
“I hadn’t worked out the details yet, because I didn’t know if you would agree to come with me.”
“Well,” said Garal, as the floor and table shivered with the thunk of the airlock closing, “I’d say it’s time to start working them out.”
4
A week into the trip to Hwae, Ingray found Garal sitting at the table in the ship’s tiny galley, a spider mech behind em cutting eir hair. No tools, just snipping Garal’s hair with one of its claws. “Almost done,” it whispered in its thin voice as Ingray stopped in the doorway. “Sorry for the delay, excellency.”
“It’s all right.” The galley doubled as the ship’s very limited gym—a necessity on a ship so small, on a long trip—so exercise times were more or less tightly scheduled. But a few minutes now wouldn’t cause any serious problems, with only two passengers aboard.
“There,” said the spider mech, and ran four of its claws through Garal’s now quite short hair, leaving it neatly brushed. “Much better. If you’ll step out into the corridor, excellency, while I clean up.”
Ingray backed up so that Garal could come out of the galley. “It actually looks nice,” she said. Sincerely, although the short hair was also oddly incongruous—on Hwae, it was mostly children who kept their hair short, but Garal did not otherwise look the least bit childlike. “I’m not sure I’d let one of those spiders touch me.”
“They are disquieting, aren’t they.”
She found she couldn’t quite bring herself to say they looked like they might be alive and thinking. She thought of the news from Radch space, the whole reason the Geck ambassador had left her homeworld to begin with—Radchaai artificial intelligences declaring themselves independent, and potential signatories of the treaty with the Presger. But, she reminded herself, that was very far away.
“All yours, excellency!” said the spider mech, and scuttled away down the corridor.
Ingray looked into the galley. The table and chairs had been folded back, and the little bit of exercise equipment pulled out, the floor over the treadmill pulled up. “I wish there were more room to really walk,” she sighed. And then hoped the spider mech hadn’t heard her. She had, after all, bought passage on this ship quite voluntarily, and so far everything had been calm, clean (if cramped and dingy), and just generally well run, and Captain Uisine had been unfailingly pleasant and courteous. And while she didn’t think he spoke Bantia, she knew the spider mechs could translate it. But then, he was probably used to passengers’ irritation at some point in a trip.
“I like it,” said Garal. “It’s safe.”
“Safe?”
“It’s small enough that I know exactly who’s here and where we all are. There’s food. Outside there’s just kilometers of empty space.” E closed eir mouth on that, abruptly, as though e had been about to say more but suddenly changed eir mind. “So, this brother of yours, who you sold your vestige of Pahlad Budrakim to. Would that be Danach Aughskold?”
For a moment Ingray was astonished, but then she remembered that eir business as a forger of vestiges of course meant that e kept track of important families. She’d said as much herself already. “It would.” She stepped into the galley and onto the belt and started it moving. “Supposedly Netano will choose the most promising of her children to take her place, and it could be either of us and we should be working hard to be chosen, but everyone knows she’s giving her name to Danach.”
“So why encourage competition, then?” asked Garal.
“I think she intends the threat to keep him sharp. If he always knows he’s going to inherit there’s no reason for him to work at anything, right?”
“Hm,” said Garal, as though e disagreed, but e didn’t expand on it. “I take it he’s who you’re hoping to con, with my help.”
Ingray had been turning plans over in her mind for the past week but had not settled on any of them, let alone said anything more to Garal Ket about her thoughts. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer em now.
“I’ve never met Danach Aughskold, but I know his reputation. I don’t imagine you like him very much.” And then, into Ingray’s continued silence, “We’ve got another two weeks of travel. I’m trying to imagine what I’ll do after that.”