Tseya was looking contemplative. “There’s a lot on the Immolation Fox,” she said, “and only so much of it was reasonably expected to be relevant to a Kel officer, I imagine. It’s only a pity that the most useful piece is missing.”
The question of what had caused Jedao’s madness. “I doubt he was ever crazy,” Brezan said, remembering Jedao standing there in the body he had stolen, perfectly relaxed.
“Well,” Tseya said, “I wish I could tell you that I hope to figure it out, but if they couldn’t get anything out of him back then, my chances aren’t better. Damnable Shuos.”
Brezan fed the second bird a treat. It bobbed its head almost as though in thanks. “Don’t these pets of yours ever fatten up?” he demanded. They showed no signs of diminished appetite.
Tseya laughed helplessly. “You’re hopeless. Since my plan to relax you is a dismal failure, why don’t we try something else? We can sit in the command center and depress ourselves with what we’re up against by reviewing some of Jedao’s old duels.”
“Sure, rub it in,” Brezan said. He’d told her at some point that Miuzan always thrashed him at the sport. On the bright side, being in the command center beat being pestered by unnaturally ribbony birds. “Well, since you offered, sure.”
Tseya flung a last treat toward two artistically entwined potted trees. The birds strode after it. “Come on,” she said.
Brezan found it alarming that Tseya went around everywhere in her bare feet. It was as though, having made the obligatory show of being an Andan, she no longer felt she had to keep up appearances. When he mentioned this, she only smiled and said, “The point of protocol is to make an impression, one way or another. Maybe I’m lulling you into a false sense of security?”
Her words reminded Brezan that when most people worried about being stabbed in the back, tangled up in an intrigue, or otherwise outmaneuvered, they didn’t just worry about the Shuos. If they had any sense, they also kept an eye on the Andan. “I’m the least useful Kel general in history if you’re looking for a pawn on the cheap,” Brezan said. “And if you’re bored, well, you’re already bedding me.”
Tseya snorted, but didn’t respond to the jab.
They entered the command center with its aquarium. The terminals were bright with status reports. As she sat, Tseya said carelessly, “I’m sure you could kill me pretty easily if you had to.”
Brezan stiffened. “Don’t,” he said. “That’s not funny.”
Tseya opened her mouth, saw his face, closed her mouth. “What’s your family like, Brezan?” she said out of nowhere.
“My what?” He glanced over a status report because it was something he understood and right now he needed that. Unluckily for him, the reports revealed nothing more untoward than swarms maneuvering. The Swanknot swarm seemed disinclined to chase the Hafn, but who knew what baroque plan Jedao was executing. If it meant less chasing, he was all for it.
“Your family.” Tseya had her hands on her knees and was leaning slightly forward.
He wondered why it mattered to her. I am not devious enough for this assignment, Brezan thought. “I’m sure we’d bore you,” he said, especially since she had to have access to all the juicy bits already. “My oldest father was retired from active service by the time I was old enough to be sentient, although my younger two fathers still did most of the parental work. One of them restores antique guns, which explains his partnering with a Kel. The other does paper-cut illustrations for children’s books. I once got yelled at for ruining his best pair of scissors.”
He had told her about his siblings before, but she was still looking at him expectantly. “My oldest sister is Keryezan. I hardly see her anymore, and I didn’t see a whole lot of her growing up, either, which automatically made her more appealing than the twins. She’s rather older and she has two kids. I think she was planning on a third. As for the twins, Miuzan is the one who never lets anything rest. I could have got on with Ganazan by herself, she’s pretty easygoing, but she was always on Miuzan’s side by default.”
Tseya continued to say nothing. Feeling hounded, Brezan said, “We fought over stupid things like who had to clean the guns and who chose what dramas to watch together. My oldest father believed that we should all watch them together, no idea why. Honestly, we’re very ordinary. It’s just me who’s the disgrace. If crashhawks were so easy to predict, I—I’d never have made it into Kel Academy at all.”
Come to that, he had no idea what, if anything, Kel Command had told his parents. He hadn’t dared to ask. If he was lucky, Kel Command had said nothing. His family had probably assumed he was dead or under Jedao’s control. The truth wasn’t much better.
“Your family sounds very different from mine,” Tseya said. “Please don’t think all Andan families are about poison and platitudes. Some are and some aren’t.”
Brezan wondered if she meant to elaborate, and wasn’t sure whether he was more worried or relieved when she didn’t. Maybe she wanted a distraction. “You wanted to watch some duels?” he said, eyeing the status indicators. Still nothing useful.
“Yes, let’s pick one at random,” Tseya said, reviving a little.
The grid was happy to select one for them: Jedao, back when he was the commander of a tactical group, against some whippy-looking long-haired Shuos who had taken offense over a point of etiquette that Tseya undoubtedly understood but Brezan sure as hell didn’t. It was strange to examine Jedao in his own body, a lean man whose face was unremarkable until he smiled; but Brezan recognized the way that Jedao-as-Cheris had moved during the takeover of the Swanknot swarm, smile included. It was also bizarre seeing Jedao with the star-and-flame tactical group commander’s insignia rather than a general’s wings. Brezan reminded himself that Kel Command had finally discharged Jedao, anyway.
Jedao and his opponent, Shuos Magrach, were sizing each other up in a way that made them look like siblings. “Magrach was an assassin, so they would have had similar training,” Tseya said when Brezan remarked on it. “There was speculation that she was trying to injure or kill Jedao for reasons of her own.”
Brezan had thought he’d had a handle on the timeline. “I thought this was when people still liked Jedao.”
Tseya shrugged. “That’s complicated. A lot of the Kel who served with him liked him, but others thought he was just lucky and resented how rapidly he got promoted. The Shuos considered him an eccentric. Look at it from their point of view. He was fast-tracked to his heptarch’s own office straight out of academy, brilliant early career as an assassin, does some work with small units and is even more brilliant there. Then, as far as anyone can tell, he lets the military stuff get to his head and he abandons everything to chase after the Kel. Inexplicably, Heptarch Khiaz let him go. Maybe she concluded he was no good to her after all. Imagine how much trouble she could have saved everyone if she’d just sat on him until he settled down.”
The match was underway, best of seven. Brezan could only follow what had happened in the slowed-down replays. He had already known about Jedao’s extraordinary reflexes, but Magrach was just as fast. “I feel inadequate like you wouldn’t believe,” Brezan said.
Tseya kicked his shin. “I don’t think you’d enjoy being an assassin.”
“If I’d had an assassin’s skills, I might have been able to shoot Jedao before he got this far.”
“There’s more to life than being able to shoot your problems,” Tseya said. “We’ll just have to get it right this time around. For a man so good at hitting things, Jedao has a lot of weaknesses. No; I’m more worried about getting within enthrallment range than about Jedao fighting back.”