Юн Ли - Raven Stratagem

Khiruev looked at him in frustration. She was serving someone walking around in a Kel’s body. She was complicit in the threat to that Kel’s people.

“It’s not entirely bad that you’re so rattled,” Jedao said quietly. “It gives me hope for the Kel.” Khiruev startled. “But General, you can do better than this. Think it through. Suppose that some miracle is possible after all. We teleport across the hexarchate with a flotilla of just-add-water habitats and get the Mwennin out. What then?”

Khiruev began pacing because she couldn’t think of anything else to do with her nervous energy. Jedao had left the door to the first inner room open, the way he usually did. As Khiruev passed the doorway, she spotted a polished rock with a bird engraving that had been left on a table. How odd, she thought, uncomfortably aware that she was prying. Other than the ubiquitous jeng-zai cards and the metal cup, it was the first indication Khiruev had had of Jedao’s personal effects.

When she reached the wall, Khiruev pivoted on her heel—and stopped dead. She had been about to say something, but it went clean out of her head when she saw that Jedao had unholstered his gun. Jedao was looking abstractedly at the wall as he ran the gun’s muzzle along his jaw. Khiruev’s heart stuttered.

“Sir,” Khiruev said unsteadily, “do you require a refresher course in firearms safety?”

Jedao frowned at him. “What? Oh, sorry. Bad habit.”

Khiruev refrained from mentioning what she’d do to any soldier of hers with such a ‘bad habit.’ To her relief, Jedao set the gun down on a table next to a jeng-zai deck. He shifted his weight, then settled there momentarily, tapping the table with an erratic rhythm.

He’s not as unaffected as he would have me believe, Khiruev realized. She had rarely observed Jedao fidgeting before, even if Jedao’s face revealed only exasperation with the situation. It made Khiruev feel better, paradoxically.

“Anyway,” Jedao said as he began meandering around the room, taking the jeng-zai deck with him and scattering cards on every available surface like a constellation of thwarted gambles, “think it through. Fine. We magically save the Mwennin. Tell me what the hexarchs’ next move is.”

Khiruev paused by one of the cards. The Chained Tower. She couldn’t stop herself from looking for the Deuce of Gears, but had no luck spotting it. Jedao had, however, left the Ace of Gears peeking from beneath a face-down card.

“Two of my parents came from the Khaigar community on Denozin 4,” Khiruev said slowly. “There are more Khaigars scattered throughout the system. Then there’s Commander Janaia. She’s a mix of things, but she’s always identified most strongly with the Moionna because of her favorite grandmother. Muris has Moionna in him, too, far back. Colonel Riozu’s four parents were part of a wave of immigration from Anxiao to Eng-Nang during a civil uprising. I could go on.” Brezan would have known more of this without having to look everyone up, but mentioning him in front of Jedao was a rotten idea. “There are a lot of people in the swarm, and a lot of peoples represented.”

Jedao’s mouth curved into a not-smile. He was waiting for Khiruev to follow through the logic.

“The Vidona will be able to obtain the personnel records through Kel Command,” Khiruev said, “assuming they don’t have them already. They could easily pick out the most expendable peoples and target them as well to put pressure on the swarm’s crew.” She wasn’t proud of how steady her voice was when she said ‘expendable.’ “It would touch off massive uprisings, but they might be desperate enough to try it anyway.”

“Unfortunately,” Jedao said, “even if we show no sign of giving a damn about a people as obscure as the Mwennin, there’s no guarantee they won’t try what you described anyway. I’m hoping the Kel will argue against for the reason you mentioned, but I can’t say I have a lot of faith in Kel Command.”

“Sir,” Khiruev said, “I ask again: what are your intentions toward the swarm? You must have had some form of long-term objective.”

You must have known that something like this would happen eventually.

“I have no reason to be fond of what the hexarchate has become,” Jedao said. “But people won’t fight their own government unless they think they have a way to win. We’re going to provide them with a way to win.”

“My Vidona mother used to come home with bulletins about heretics who thought they could outfight the Kel and Shuos with some new secret weapon,” Khiruev said. “None of them ever succeeded.”

“That’s exactly their problem,” Jedao said. “You think I haven’t put down my share of heretics at Kel Command’s orders? They always think it’s about the fucking tech. It’s not. It’s about people.”

Khiruev studied Jedao’s face. “Exotic technology is already about belief systems, so you must be referring to something else.” They were discussing treason.

She had spent a long career doing Kel Command’s will because she had chosen to be a Kel. Once she became Kel, she had very constricted choices. Nevertheless, she wondered if she should have contemplated treason earlier. She would never have done so if she hadn’t encountered Jedao. She knew herself that well, at least.

Jedao made an abortive gesture. “General,” he said, “you may have noticed that math isn’t my strongest subject, so any plan of mine wouldn’t rely on it. I use grid assistance a lot when we’re in battle.”

“I assumed you had some way of compensating,” Khiruev said without concealing her curiosity. Someone with the mathematical difficulties she suspected Jedao of having would never have been accepted as a Kel officer candidate. However, Jedao had come in sideways, through the Shuos, and it was hard to argue with his performance.

“I have a form of dyscalculia,” Jedao said. He glanced away. “They didn’t even catch it until I was partway through Shuos Academy because I—I just worked harder. But it did mean that while my classmates were doing fancy calculations, I was busy figuring out how to trick them so those fancy calculations didn’t come into play. And anyway, I thought I was going into a career that wouldn’t require me to be fast with numbers, so for a while it didn’t matter.

“But this is the thing about heretics. They’re typically fixated on the numbers, whether it’s manipulating atmospherics or spiking calendars so their new variety of gun will work when the Kel pop up. People are obsessed with guns”—his mouth compressed briefly—”but they’re missing the point. It’s about standing together against the hexarchs, not shooting them down. It’s possible. I learned propaganda from a master of the art.” His voice hitched on ‘art,’ settled. “You’ll see.”

Khiruev considered this. “Was the hex—heptarchate very different in your day?”

“Some things were bad,” Jedao said. “Some of the same things, even. But it wasn’t as all-around awful as it’s gotten.” The fractures in his eyes were unbearable. “Some of the things that got worse—they got worse because of me. I have to set it right.”

There was no tactful way to ask when Jedao had figured this out. The Kel historians had skirted the issue, but it didn’t take much perspicacity to figure out that half the problems with Kel Command could be traced to the early hivemind’s fear of Jedao. That fear had not diminished over time. The undead general and the hivemind had circled each other like dancers for four centuries; they might continue circling for centuries yet.

“I am done serving the hexarchs,” Jedao said. “Think what you will, but I couldn’t endure the black cradle any longer and I couldn’t keep butchering people for Kel Command. Maybe it’s too late to develop a conscience. Still, I’d be remiss if I didn’t stay on for one last round of cards.” His smile had a hard edge. “You haven’t had a choice, any of you. I’m no better than they are. But I needed a swarm, and here we are.”