I raised a gloved hand, palm out—the gesture would have been rude, to most Radchaai, but meant something else to a Valskaayan. Hold. Be calm. “It’s all right, Grandfather. I know justice when I hear it.” A small, incredulous noise from one of the others sitting at the table, quickly silenced. Everyone pretended not to have noticed it. “Citizen Raughd had a taste for tormenting your brother. She’s quite shrewd in some ways. She knew what lengths you’d go to, to protect him. She also knew that you have some technical ability. That if she managed to filch some explosives from a construction site and provided you with the instructions for how to use them, you’d be able to follow them. She didn’t, I suspect, realize that you might come up with ways to improve their use. The scrap metal was your idea, wasn’t it?” I had no evidence for that, beyond the repeated signs that Raughd rarely thought things through. Queter’s expression didn’t change. “And she didn’t realize you might decide to use them on her instead of me.”

Head still tilted, expression still sardonic, she said, “Don’t you want to know how I did it?”

I smiled. “Most esteemed Queter. For nearly all of my life I have been among people who were very firmly convinced that the universe would be the better for my absence. I doubt very much that you have any surprises for me. Still, it was well done, and if your timing hadn’t been just that smallest bit off, you would have succeeded. Your talents are wasted here.”

“Oh, of course they are.” Her tone became, if possible, even more cutting than before. “There’s no one else here but superstitious savages.” The last words in Radchaai.

“The information you would need to make something like that is not freely available,” I said. “If you’d gone looking for it you would have been denied access, and possibly had Planetary Security looking closely at you. If you attended school here you’d have learned to recite passages of scripture, and some cleaned-up history, and very little more. Raughd herself likely knew no more than that explosives can kill people. You worked the details out yourself.” Had, perhaps, been pondering the question long before Raughd made her move. “Sorting tea leaves and fixing the machines in the manufactory! You must have been bored beyond belief. If you’d ever taken the aptitudes, the assigners would have been sure to send you somewhere your talents were better occupied, and you’d have had no time or opportunity to dream up trouble.” Queter’s lips tightened, and she drew breath as though to reply. “And,” I forestalled her, “you would not have been here to protect your brother.” I gestured, acknowledging the irony of such things.