Inesser laughed harshly. “Well, at least she knows that it’s good to have a backup plan. With Jedao in her head, I sometimes wonder. Details, please.”
“She wants to be reinstated. As General Jedao.”
Inesser saw the scheme immediately. Nine years ago, as General Jedao, Cheris had abused formation instinct to hijack General Khiruev’s swarm. That was the problem with formation instinct, of course. It had once guaranteed the state loyal soldiers, but the whole thing went up like dropped porcelain if you subverted someone at the top.
Hilariously, Cheris infiltrating Kujen’s command moth wasn’t the hard part. Cheris was Kel infantry, presumably still in good condition, and she had been infused with Jedao’s assassin training. Even so, there was only one of her (thank fire and ash). Being able to pull rank would facilitate her mission—and, presumably, her ability to get out alive.
“That’s one hell of a promotion she’s asking for,” Inesser said. “Especially considering the things she can do with it.”
“Well, think of it this way,” Brezan said. “She’ll only be able to abuse it in high calendar space, so that limits the damage she can do.”
Inesser harrumphed. “I’m willing,” she said. “I can’t deny the usefulness of multiple avenues of attack.”
Brezan could have gone behind her back and facilitated this. That he hadn’t spoke well for him. Ordinarily, Kel uniforms responded to encrypted codes transmitted by individuals’ augments and changed insignia, medals, and so on in accordance with the profile on record. In theory, this prevented people from impersonating officers. Inesser was guessing that Cheris couldn’t figure out how to hack a modern uniform. (She rather doubted that getting executed for impersonation was going to bother Cheris of all people.) She needed the command codes—codes that Brezan had once had access to, codes that he had ceded to Inesser’s control.
Brezan had tipped his head up and met Inesser’s gaze. “There’ll be a price, of course.”
“You look as though you’re facing a firing squad.”
His smile had a hard edge. “Feels like it sometimes.”
“I need you to publicly declare for me.”
“More than I already have?”
Inesser steepled her hands and regarded him meditatively. “Do you know how I secured the Protectorate in the early days?”
“Threatening to shoot anyone who got in the way?”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I did back then,” Brezan said. “Not anymore.”
“Oh, the swarms didn’t hurt,” Inesser said. “But one of my key pillars of support came from a deceased wife of mine. Namely, the fact that her brother is the commandant who holds the Fortress of Pearled Hopes.”
A flicker in Brezan’s eyes told her what he thought of her abuse of family connections. It was almost funny to find straitlaced Kel squeamishness about using marriage connections in a crashhawk. In her experience, even squeamish Kel came around when they saw a promotion within their reach, or a particularly desirable posting. Ignoring the tendency only caused it to fester, instead of bringing it into the open where it could be lanced.
“Yes,” Inesser said. “I was able to secure the fortress because I leaned on my brother-in-law.”
“I don’t see where you’re going with this,” Brezan said, “unless you’re telling me that you’re about to marry into my family. Which would frankly be difficult, considering that Miuzan’s as Kel as you are. Her twin Ganazan, besides also being Kel, has never shown the slightest interest in sex or romance. Although if you’re into duelist trading cards, she’s happy to talk your ears off about that. Keryezan married her childhood sweetheart and they’ve shown no sign of wanting to expand the marriage to include anyone else.”
“Tell me,” Inesser said mildly, “why haven’t you gotten married?
Brezan only laughed at her. “Never wanted to settle down, I guess.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Inesser said. “You found someone, except you had a choice. Between duty to the hexarchate and a continuation of your affair with her, or revolution and a break with her.”
Give him credit: he didn’t stand up and walk out, even though his nostrils flared. “I’m not in love with Tseya,” Brezan said.
“Brezan,” Inesser said, “who said anything about love? Love makes it easier. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t see,” Brezan said, “how a marriage alliance between Tseya and me does you any good. Among other things, if my fathers haven’t disinherited me—”
“You think your inheritance is what matters here?” Inesser demanded, entertained. “As opposed to the position you’ve carved out for yourself?”
“Well,” Brezan said, droll, “I’m sure access to a vast personal fortune never hurts. Not that I would know from experience. You’re that sure of Tseya as an ally that you think binding me to her will bind me to you?”
“It’s a small opportunity for some personal happiness,” Inesser said. “Tseya had broached the topic to me herself, because of the political repercussions. And she felt I would make a better intermediary, to avoid any awkwardness.”
“Oh, for love of fire and ash,” Brezan said. “Now I feel like the pimply kid whose well-meaning relatives try to set him up with a hot date out of pity. What’s in it for her? If she has your ear, she’s already near the center of power.”
“She thinks you could be useful.” For a moment Inesser wondered if she’d gone too far, but Brezan only pulled a face. It made him look incredibly young. “Also, she said that she would teach you that Andan cake recipe you were lusting after.”
Brezan laughed in spite of himself.
“It hasn’t escaped my attention that ‘personal happiness’ leads directly to political entanglements,” Brezan said after a while.
Inesser shrugged. “If you can offer me something more attractive—”
“No. I’ll talk to Tseya. I want to be sure this is something she wants.”
Inesser had the sudden and inexplicable urge to ruffle his hair the way she would have with one of her grandchildren. So earnest. “Fair enough,” she said. “She’s been waiting for this talk.”
“It figures that an Andan would go through an intermediary rather than talk to me herself,” Brezan said, but he didn’t sound as though he minded. “Considering what I did to her, I suppose I can’t blame her.”
“Let me give you the codes,” Inesser said, “and you can convey them to Cheris. Give her a nice reinstatement of her rank. She won’t outrank me, of course”—she grinned ferociously—“because I remembered what she’d pulled on poor Khiruev, so I asked my experts to rewrite the protocol so ‘protector-general’ outranks all the ordinary generals.”
“Good to know,” Brezan said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JEDAO’S CONVERSATION WITH Kujen had convinced him that he needed allies. But who? Dhanneth didn’t know anything. If he didn’t, Talaw was unlikely to either. The same for the rest of the Kel.
He did, however, know somebody who might be willing to work with him. First, he needed something to cover what might possibly be long periods of his staring off into space. He sent a note to Dhanneth to leave him alone for anything short of a emergency. Then he sat at his desk and asked the grid to present him with a curated selection of pornography.