Jedao heard someone cry out in rage. His throat hurt as though an animal had scratched its way out. “I’m your gun, Kujen, but that’s not all I am!”
(He knew it was a lie. In all the quicksand years remaining to him, he was never going to be anything more than another of Kujen’s dolls.)
The lances finished their work. The chain that bound Kujen to Jedao, his current anchor, was severed. With it went the life Kujen had clung to for so long.
Even then Kujen wasn’t done. “Oh, child,” he said. His voice was so matter-of-fact that Jedao’s hackles rose. “No one else will ever love you.” After that he was gone.
ALL AT ONCE the lances dissipated and left Jedao blinking, near-blinded by the afterimages. Gate-space receded. The command center with its hectic alerts and frantic security personnel and raised voices reminded him of the importance of restoring order.
Inhyeng was sprawled before Jedao, sobbing with pain. Jedao put Inhyeng back in a lock, knee in his back, now that he had control of himself again. “I give—” Inhyeng said between gasps. “Parole. Please. He’s—he’s gone.”
“I know that,” Jedao said in a scoured-out voice. He had known it would come to this at the end. “You’re free now.”
He didn’t let up, in case Inhyeng tried something. Bad odds for the other man, but you never knew. Nothing usual had happened today. He had good reflexes, but best not to take chances.
“Communications,” Jedao said. “Commander Talaw. Tender my apologies to Protector-General Inesser and transmit the null banner. I am offering my surrender. While you’re at it, blow up the remaining fucking winnowers as an earnest of my good faith. Do it however you like, I’m not fussed.”
Talaw didn’t waste time asking questions and immediately snapped to. Dhanneth, however, understandably looked wild around the eyes. “We’re your Kel,” he said. “They’re vulnerable. You can defeat Inesser. You fought for us. Let us fight for you.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jedao said, more harshly than he’d intended. “The point of this was to return all of you to your people. To the true Kel. I don’t care what they do with me.”
“Sir, a surrender should more properly be—”
“Fuck propriety,” Jedao said. Inhyeng made a sound at the back of his throat that might have been laughter. “Besides, the commander already has things in hand.”
“Well,” Inhyeng said with the refined accent that Jedao knew so well. “All that planning and Kujen finally fucked up.” He did not seem to care who heard him. “Created the perfect general, the perfect gun, and undid himself by giving the gun a soul.”
“I don’t believe in souls,” Jedao said.
“I don’t either,” Inhyeng said, confusingly. “How did you do it, by the way? We were so careful to avoid the weapons that could hurt him. The moths’ formation didn’t—”
“You were looking at the fucking moths,” Jedao said. But Kujen had been Nirai, and he was betting that Inhyeng was too. “Next time look at the fucking people.”
Inhyeng stiffened. “The infantry. I should have realized those landing sites made no sense—if Inesser was your real target.”
Jedao didn’t say anything.
Inhyeng hacked up another laugh. “If you put any more pressure on that joint, you’re going to break it.”
“Don’t think I’m not tempted,” Jedao said. “I don’t trust you. With enough joints broken, you won’t be able to fight me. Not physically, anyway. But you’re free. You’re one of the reasons I did this.”
“Me?” Inhyeng said. “I’m no one.” Tears were running down his face in great messy streaks. “He didn’t care about people the way you or I understand the word, but he was... interested in you. He meant for you to accompany him forever.”
“I never wanted to live forever,” Jedao said. But Kujen had given him a body that repaired itself. He expected dying would take extra effort. For a moment, he was enraptured again by the edifices of thought that Kujen had held in his mind like a temple. He could trace his way through parts of them even now. “Well, it’s too late now.”
“I’m going to ask for something,” Inhyeng said, “even though you shouldn’t give it to me. I want to die, Jedao. You of all people should know what that’s like.”
Jedao’s grip tightened. After a moment he remembered how to speak. “Tell me your name. The real one.”
“No. I remember it. But I don’t want anyone else to know it. I don’t want anyone to know I existed. I made the bargain I did for someone who ended up dying anyway, and now I’m done. Please, Jedao.”
Everything dimmed. “Give me a gun,” he said. Someone pressed one into his hand. He didn’t see who.
This whole plea could be a ploy. Jedao was uncomfortably aware that holding a gun directly to someone’s temple was risky business, that Inhyeng could try to wrest it away from him. On the other hand, Inhyeng of all people knew the futility of shooting at Jedao.
“Goodbye,” Jedao said in a whisper. He was tempted to kiss Inhyeng’s brow, one last benediction. It seemed obscene to let a man’s execution pass without some form of rite. But Inhyeng wouldn’t have welcomed it.
He pulled the trigger.
He needn’t have gone to the effort. He let Inhyeng’s limp body fall. Stood there, the world swimming in and out and focus, attempting to calm himself with long, slow breaths.
Then he realized that the lurching wasn’t just dizziness. His people were staggering. Dhanneth had come up beside him and was attempting to support him, which would have worked better if he hadn’t been worse affected by whatever was going on.
Kujen’s gas, take two. Had his death, or Inhyeng’s, triggered this?
“Get you to safety,” Dhanneth said in a muffled voice. He’d pulled on a mask and had another dangling from his hand.
“I don’t need it,” Jedao snapped. “Help Talaw.” Talaw had already fallen to their knees. Together, he and Dhanneth pulled it on. Talaw was already breathing shallowly, swaying from side to side. “Commander. Commander, did the protector-general accept our surrender?”
“There seems to be a controversy about—” Talaw was slurring. They hadn’t gotten masked in time.
“Sir!” Dhanneth cried. He had drawn his sidearm, but his hand trembled so badly that Jedao wondered that he didn’t drop it. Behind him, the acting executive officer dropped to the floor. “Poison. Betrayed. Look—”
Who—
Then the servitors floated in, silent, lights flickering sterile white, and opened fire.
The Revenant’s voice thundered through Jedao. No one who knows your history will believe it wasn’t your idea,it said, or some manifestation of your madness.
Jedao froze for a split second, uncertain whether to haul Talaw to their feet. Instead, he raised his gun and fired, impotently, at one of the servitors. In glacial rage, he said, This was unnecessary. I could have negotiated—
I am uninterested in compromises, the Revenant said. You never intended to come with us, did you? A traitor to the last, in any incarnation.
He had no answer to that.
The Revenant had left its position above the Protectorate capital and had already reached Terebeg 4’s thinnest fringe of atmosphere, at the edge of what was considered space.
Goodbye, cousin. The servitors refuse to kill you, in recognition of the service you rendered us by assassinating Kujen. But I judge your odds of survival to be poor even if Protector-General Inesser’s Kel do pick you up.