Provenance

“You’re certain that Pahlad was with you the whole time, in Eswae? And e couldn’t have been piloting a mech part of the time?”

Ingray was relieved that Netano wasn’t pursuing the issue of her having brought Pahlad Budrakim home any further, but wary, too—it didn’t mean her mother wouldn’t bring it up again sometime in the future. “The only mech anyone saw was Excellency Zat’s Uto.” Ingray thought of the marker spike and suppressed a shudder. Whoever had killed Zat had to have used her own mech to do it. “I can’t imagine Pahlad would have had access to that. And e never seemed distracted, or like e was thinking about something else.” Then again, Captain Uisine never had, either, even when he’d been drinking, and Ingray knew he was almost always piloting one—or, unheard of, two or three—at any given time.

“Well.” Netano sighed. “Your timing isn’t very good, Ingray. You know it’s coming up on campaign season. I would hate to have a family scandal cost me an election.” Her tone was mild, but Ingray knew it for a warning. “But it may be we can get some advantage out of it. My sources tell me that the prolocutor left for Hwae Station the moment he heard about the Geck arriving. But he’s turned right around and is on his way back home, because of Pahlad.”

“The prolocutor himself?” asked Ingray, frowning. “Not his daughter?” Ethiat had already given his name to his heir, and she often made appearances or visits for her father now. It was technically the same as being there himself, though of course everyone knew the difference, and interpreted which of them went where as a judgment on what or who the prolocutor felt was most important.

“The prolocutor himself,” confirmed Netano. “Even though he could—and should—have sent his daughter.” When Netano said should, she certainly meant politically, the way it would look to Prolocutor Budrakim’s constituency. The news services hadn’t yet learned of Pahlad Budrakim’s presence on Hwae, or eir involvement in the death of Excellency Zat, and so most people would find the prolocutor’s sudden return inexplicable. “I am no longer confident that the prolocutor values the interests of Assembly electors the way he ought, and I am on my way to the station now to be certain that someone will. But I also have good reason to stay home and deal with this situation. If I had named my heir, the way that the prolocutor has, my course would be very simple—I would leave that Netano here to handle this situation.” Of course. Politics before family, unless family was politics. Which it often was.

But trust Netano to find some political advantage in any situation.

“I’ve let the ambassador from the Omkem Federacy know that Excellency Hevom is welcome to stay here as long as he likes,” Netano continued, “and that my own children are looking after him. I am extremely unhappy that my guest has been murdered, and I want very much for Planetary Safety to find the person who did it. I expect every member of my household to cooperate fully and openly with Planetary Safety’s investigation of this matter. It would be very unfortunate if anything unsavory came to light in the process.”

“Yes, Mama.” Ingray knew that for a warning as well.

“The groundcar is here,” said Netano, rising, “and I can’t miss the elevator. I won’t be available for anything but the most urgent of emergencies, so you’ll have to call Nuncle Lak if anything comes up that you can’t handle on your own. Be good.” And she kissed Ingray on the cheek, as though Ingray had still been a small child.

Ingray wasn’t sure whether to be pleased at that, or to be very, very afraid.


In the morning she had a quick breakfast in her room and told the head house servant to message her if Excellency Hevom needed anything staff or Danach couldn’t handle—though she trusted Danach to be self-interested enough to be very solicitous with Hevom—and ordered the household groundcar for a trip to the district Planetary Safety offices. While she ate, she considered the advisability of letting her nuncle know what she was planning, but she was quite sure that e would forbid her to speak to anyone at Planetary Safety without eir advice or possibly even eir presence, neither of which Ingray wanted. As it was, she could take disingenuous refuge in Netano’s anything you can’t handle on your own from the night before. It wouldn’t be the first time she, or any other Aughskold, had done such a thing.

It took ten minutes for the groundcar to bring her to Planetary Safety. As she got out, it slid off to find somewhere to wait until she needed it again. Arsamol District Planetary Safety Headquarters stood on one side of a broad court, sunlit today, and paved with scuffed and time-rounded black stones, each of which was a vestige from the founding of the district. The flat black basalt vestige in Eswae had been an imitation of them, though these were smaller and much, much older. Older even than the existence of the Aughskold household, let alone the first Netano. Ingray had never thought about that before, but now, since hearing Garal—no, Pahlad—talk about how easy it was to forge at least some vestiges, it seemed she couldn’t stop thinking about them in odd ways. Why had Netano chosen a design for that vestige that would remind people of the court here in the district center? Had she known that she was doing that?

But Ingray had more important business. Before she’d left the house, she’d checked to see that Taucris was available for a meeting and had made a request to speak to her in person, and now as she entered the building a half-meter-high, four-legged, green-and-gold mech broke off from a line of identical mechs along a far wall. “Ingray Aughskold,” it chirped, reaching her. “Ingray Aughskold.”

“I’m Ingray Aughskold,” she said.

“Ingray Aughskold,” chirped the mech in reply, “I am unpiloted and can only lead you to your appointment. Stay within two meters of me until you reach your destination. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” said Ingray, who had expected something like this—the various Assembly office facilities had escort mechs nearly identical to these—and the mech toddled off, Ingray following.

Taucris actually smiled when Ingray entered her office, and she was struck by the strangeness of it. Taucris had not smiled much when Ingray had known her better. Or not the last few years before Ingray had taken her adult name, and then lost touch with her old friend. “Ingray, good morning. It’s good to see you. I would have invited you, the other evening, if I’d known you were back home.”

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