“It’s done lots more than that. In fact, you’ve been sitting here sweating like a pig because you know you’re about one more bad report away from—pffft!“ She snapped her fingers, and he winced.
“Your grief is moving, but I doubt you came just to warn me in case I hadn’t noticed.”
“True. True.” She smiled cheerfully. “You know, I’ve never liked you, Ganhar. Frankly, I’ve always thought you were in it out of pure greed, which would be fine if I weren’t pretty certain your plans include winding up in charge yourself. With, I’m sure, fatal consequences for Anu and myself.”
Ganhar blinked, and her eyes danced at his failure to hide his surprise.
“Ganhar, Ganhar! You disappoint me! Just because you think I’m a little crazy is no reason to think I’m stupid! You may even be right about my mental state, but you really ought to be a bit more careful about letting it color your calculations.”
“I see.” He propped an elbow on his desk through the holo map and regarded her as calmly as he could. “May I assume you’re pointing out my shortcomings for a reason?”
“There. I always knew you were bright.” She paused tauntingly, forcing him to ask, and he had no choice but to comply.
“And that reason is?”
“Why, I’m here to help you. Or to propose an alliance, of sorts, at any rate.” He sat a bit straighter, and a strange hardness banished all amusement from her eyes.
“Not against Anu, Ganhar,” she said coldly. “Whether I’m crazy or not isn’t your concern, but make one move against him, and you’re a dead man.”
Ganhar shivered. He had no idea what that icy guarantee might rest upon, but neither did he have any desire to find out. She sounded far too sure of herself for that, and, as she’d pointed out, she was hardly stupid. Assuming he survived the next few weeks, he was going to have to recast his plans for Commander Inanna.
“I see,” he said after a long pause. “But if not against him, then against who?”
“There you go again. Try to accept that I’m reasonably bright, Ganhar. It’ll make things much easier for us both.”
“Jantu?”
“Of course. That weasel has plans for all of us. But then,” her smile turned wolfish, “I have plans for him, too. Jantu’s in very poor health; he just doesn’t know it yet. He won’t—until his next transplant comes due.”
Ganhar shivered again. Brain transplants were ticklish even with Imperial technology, and a certain number of fatalities were probably unavoidable, but he’d assumed Anu decided which patients suffered complications. It hadn’t occurred to him Inanna might be doing it on her own.
“So,” she went on pleasantly, “we still have to decide what to do with him in the meantime. If he ever left the enclave, he might have an accident. I’d considered that, and it would’ve been a neat way to get him, Kirinal, and you, wouldn’t it? You’re in charge of external operations … he’s your worst rival … who wouldn’t’ve wondered if you two hadn’t arranged it?”
“You have a peculiar way of convincing an ‘ally’ to trust you,” Ganhar pointed out carefully.
“I’m only proving I can be honest with you, Ganhar. Doesn’t my openness reassure you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, that’s probably wise of you. And that’s my point; you really are much smarter than Jantu—less devious, but smarter. And because you are, I’m reasonbly certain your plans to assassinate Anu—and possibly myself—don’t envision any immediate execution date.” She smiled cheerfully at her own play on words. “But if you disappeared from the equation, Jantu is stupid enough to make his try immediately. He wouldn’t succeed, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m sure it would come to open fighting in the end. If that happened, Anu or I might be among the casualties. I wouldn’t like that.”
“So why not tell Anu?”
“The one absolutely predictable thing about you is your ability to disappoint me, Ganhar. You must be crazy yourself if you think I haven’t realized Anu is. The technical term, if you’re wondering, is advanced paranoia, complicated by megalomania. He hasn’t quite reached grossly delusional proportions yet, but he’s headed that way. And while we’re being so honest, let’s admit that paranoia can be a survival tool in situations like his. After all, a paranoic is only crazy when people aren’t out to get him.
“But the point is that I’m probably the only person he trusts at all, and one reason he does is that I’ve very carefully avoided getting caught up in any of our little intrigues. But if I warned him about Jantu, he’d start wondering if I hadn’t decided to join with you, instead. He’s not exactly noted for moderation, and the simplest solution to his problem would be to kill all three of us. I wouldn’t like that, either.”
“Then why not—”
“Careful, Ganhar!” She leaned towards him, her eyes hard as two black opals, and her soft, soft voice was almost a hiss. “Be very, very careful what you suggest to me. Of course I could. I’m his doctor, after all. But I won’t. Not now, not ever. Remember that.”
“I … understand,” he said, licking his lips.
“I doubt that.” Her eyes softened, and somehow that frightened Ganhar even more than their hardness had, but then she shook her head. “No, I doubt that,” she said more naturally, “but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have an ally against Jantu—for now, at least. We both know things are going to get worse before they get better, but I’ll do what I can to draw fire from you during conferences, and I’ll support you against Jantu and maybe even when you stand up to him. Not always directly, perhaps, but I will. I want you around to take charge when we start rebuilding your operations network.”
“You mean you want me around because you don’t want Jantu in charge, right?” Ganhar asked, meeting her eyes fully.
“Well, of course. But it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
It most definitely wasn’t the same thing, but Ganhar chose not to press the point. She peered deeply into his eyes for a moment, then nodded.
“I can just see your busy little mind whirring away in there,” she said dryly. “That’s good. But, as one ally to another, I’d advise you to come up with some sort of forceful recommendation for Anu. Something positive and masterful. It doesn’t have to actually accomplish much, you understand, but a little violence would be helpful. He’ll like that. The notion of hitting back—of doing something—always appeals to megalomaniacs.”
“I—” Ganhar broke off and drew a deep breath. “Inanna, you have to realize how what you’ve just said sounds. I’m not going to suggest that you do anything to Anu. You’re right; I don’t understand why you feel the way you do, but I’ll accept it and remember it. But don’t you worry about what else I might do with the insight you’ve just given me?”
“Of course not, Ganhar.” She lounged back in her chair with a kindly air. “We both know I’ve just turned all of your calculations topsy-turvy, but you’re a bright little boy. Given a few decades to consider it, you’ll realize I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t already taken precautions. That’s valuable in its own right, don’t you think? I mean, knowing that, crazy or not, I’ll kill you the moment you become a threat to Anu or me is bound to color your thinking, isn’t it?”
“I suppose you could put it that way.”
“Then my visit hasn’t been a waste, has it?” She rose and stretched, deliberately taunting him with the exquisite perfection of the body she wore as she turned for the hatch. Then she paused and looked back over her shoulder almost coquettishly.
“Oh! I almost forgot. I meant to warn you about Bahantha.”
Ganhar blinked again. What about Bahantha? She was his senior assistant, number two in Operations now that he’d replaced Kirinal, and she was one of the very few people he trusted. His thoughts showed in his face, and Inanna shook her head at his expression.