The Consuming Fire (The Interdependency #2)(73)

“But you did when you were alive.”

“Yes, many. Ranging from very small and trivial doubts about people, things, and incidents, to larger, existential doubts, for example, about whether we would be able to pull off founding the Interdependency.”

“Why did you have doubts?”

“Leaving aside any of my own personality quirks, because it made sense to have doubts. It made sense to worry that our plans were not complete and that there were contingencies we had not thought of, that I had not thought of, that would come back and affect how events would play out.”

“And did they? Did your doubts come true?”

“Sometimes they did.”

“How did you deal with that?”

“We made new plans as well as we could and put them into effect.”

“You improvised.”

“Yes. The one advantage we had, which is a thing I brought to the enterprise, was the understanding that the plan was not the goal. The goal was the goal, and we were going to get to it however we could. And if it meant changing our plans, sometimes in the middle of executing them, then we would.”

“You sound proud of it,” Cardenia observed.

“I was.”

“I mean, you sound proud of it now. You, the simulation.”

“I’m not, but Rachela was. And it makes sense to reflect that pride to you. It’s why I became emperox. I was always meant to be emperox, I should clarify—the Wu family always knew they needed a front person who could balance both the state and church roles. A useful figurehead for both. But I was more than a figurehead because I was the one reminding the others, constantly, that the plan was not the goal. We succeeded because of it.”

“Did you doubt that your prophecies would work?”

“Sometimes. Something we worked out between ourselves would go out in the world and fall flat, and I would have to spin it and sometimes abandon it altogether. I’ve told you before that the prophecies were aspirational, not predictive. It’s only after we worked to make them come true that they had the appearance of inevitability. And we worked very hard on that.”

“Making prophecies, and getting them across successfully, is much harder work than what I expected,” Cardenia admitted.

“It’s very hard work,” Rachel agreed. “I retired them as soon as it was practically possible. I know no other emperox before you bothered to have any, because it made no sense to have them. They were already emperox, so much of the hard work of establishing a rule was already done. All they had to do was maintain that rule. We set it up so that would be easy to do through the tools of the state.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have bothered with prophecies.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Because you’re not actually a human and have no interest in it outside of what I tell you.”

“There is that. And also, your reign is unlike the reign of any of your predecessors, including mine. I worked hard to form the Interdependency, but I wasn’t the emperox then. When I became the emperox, in most ways, my crisis—the formation of the Interdependency—was over. The House of Wu had succeeded. Your crisis is the dissolution of the Interdependency. You must prepare the systems of humanity to be alone. You have the tools of the state to do it, but the tools of the state will almost certainly not be enough. So now you must use the tools of the church as well. Which is why they were there for you. I put them there for you to use. Not you specifically. But any emperox who found themselves in this position.”

Cardenia’s eyes narrowed at this. “You anticipated the collapse of the Flow.”

“No,” Rachela I said. “I never really understood the Flow. It always looked like a lot of math, and I had people for that. But I did anticipate that there might be a time where an emperox might need more options than just being the emperox. That they might have to take on the mantle of prophet as well. You are the second prophet-emperox.”

Cardenia recoiled. “Oh, I don’t call myself that.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“It’s a little … arrogant. And also I don’t think it’s a title I can give myself. I think others have to use it first.”

“From a marketing point of view I can tell you that you’re wrong. If you want people to use the title, you should start using it yourself. Or at least start seeding it out there through your propagandists.”

“We call them the Press Ministry now.”

“Whatever. Have them start spreading it around. It will help more than you think it will.”

“I have doubts,” Cardenia said.

“I did marketing. I know.”

“No,” Cardenia said. “Not about that. I mean larger doubts. About everything.”

“Of course you do. You’re human.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

“I can tell you are hoping for some wisdom from me right now.”

“It ruins it a little when you put it like that, just so you know.”

“I will remember to approach it more organically the next time.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like the wisdom anyway?”

“Yes,” Cardenia said. “Yes I would.”