Princess of the Empire (JNC Edition)

by Hiroyuki Morioka

  “Secondly, we shall be putting into place a recruitment office for the Imperial Star Forces. We dispatch soldiers to carry out official duties and maintain security, and the soldiers stationed on your planet’s surface will be there for those purposes only. Inferring from your population, these will not exceed 10,000 in number. As long as your autonomous government is alive and well, I promise that we will not press upon you any additional troops without your consent. Furthermore, there will be no draft, nor any conscription. Surface people are free to choose to join the Star Forces if they so desire. However, we must add that any attempt to interfere with an individual’s free will to volunteer for military service is forbidden.”

  “Now, as for your social status, you are all considered ‘territorial citizens.’ If, however, you enlist in the Stellar Army and become a vassal of your lord, and decide of your volition to work for the Empire, you will then become a citizen not of your territory but of the Empire and its nation, thereby relinquishing any ties with your territory’s local government in favor of obtaining the Empire’s patronage. That is what it means to be a subject of the Empire.”

  “In any case, dramatic change will be coming to your daily lives. That change will not be affected by any tyranny on the part of your lord, but rather by the goods that will become available from other systems. We do not expect any loyalty to the Empire or His Majesty, so once you become accustomed to these unfamiliar novelty goods, your conscious awareness of your subjection to the Empire as ‘territorial citizens’ will largely fade.”

  “Now, I have reached the end of my speech.”

  “From now on, a subordinate will answer any questions you may have in my stead. Please choose how you will come under the Empire’s rule: peacefully, or forcefully, by outcome of war. Personally, I have deemed the bio-resources of this planet a valuable commodity, but I caution you not to make any unfounded assumptions that we will therefore hesitate to burn you off the surface of your planet. Happily for us, your metropolis is quite conspicuous. It would be more than feasible for us to destroy it without causing much harm to the surrounding nature.”

  “Now then, you are free to vex my subordinates with an endless font of questions, but their patience is limited, so we cannot humor your questions indefinitely. Your deadline to reply is precisely three rotations from now.”

  Among other imperial subjects, the address was more respectful than most anticipated, but the people of the city who watched the broadcast were incensed. Though polite on a surface level, no care had been taken to word things so as to gain their good will. After all, the rank arrogance was there for all to hear. There was no sign of any consideration that there was even a possibility they could be rebuffed.

  The ire of the politicians and the senior bureaucrats was especially intense. The positions that they’d jostled so hard to seize had been described by that young Abh noble as “a labor far removed from the realm of the elegant”! Besides, what proof did they have that he was telling the truth? For all they knew, the Abh Commander could be lying, and subjects of the Empire were victims of repression. In fact, it would be crazy to honestly believe that a bunch of people who had come out of nowhere to all but attack them were actually sincere.

  Naturally, bureaucrats and representatives of the city’s inhabitants did go on to pepper the officers with endless questions through the communication circuits, gaining a lot of information in the process. However, the time they were given to analyze that information was far too short. Attempting to determine the authenticity of their answers was an exercise in despair. A group of experienced court attorneys joined the lawmakers in questioning the Abh officers, but they failed to find any points of contradiction. Though, even if the information they were given had been full of lies, the administration of the Hyde Star System had little choice regardless.

  The planet Martin housed an anti-space defense system. Since they had also come here from the reaches of space, it was rather easy to predict there would one day be an incursion from that very same space. There was no need to envisage an extrastellar intelligence. The possibility their very own cousins, violent and ill-mannered, would come for them was already there. Yet allocating the necessary defense funding was easier said than done.

  The heads of several different administrations zealously tackled this issue, but all they had were 10 grounded anti-space lasers and 20 anti-space missiles. They boasted no spacefaring army, and it fell on a department within the Ministry of Facilities to maintain and inspect those anti-space weapons. In times of emergency, the weapons’ launch controls were supposed to be overseen by a part-time general in an underground control room.

  The only other arm of military power the star system’s government had access to was the police force that was equipped to, at best, tamp down on a large-scale riot. To say facing off against the firepower of a space armada would place too heavy a burden on them would be an understatement.

  Despite that, there was a faction in Parliament that wanted war. They reasoned that the giant fleet could be a bluff, and that, even if they were no match for them in the theater of space, there was hope for victory on the surface. They also reasoned that all other considerations aside, this was a matter of honor. Would it really be fine with the people to simply submit without even attempting to fight?

  Of course, there were equally staunch people who thought those arguments were shallow-minded, and as such they dug themselves deeper and deeper in the debates. Discussion went from the clash of lofty concepts and philosophies, to the flinging of personal invective.

  However, their session could hardly go on forever. After all was said and done, their deadline loomed in three short days. A day on Martin lasted two hours longer than a day on their ancestral homeworld, but they had to reach a consensus of opinions, and urgently. Unfortunately, Parliament wasn’t accustomed to issuing a decision with any swiftness. Reluctantly, they entrusted the decision to the head of government.

  The head of government at that time was Rock Lin — Jinto Lin’s father.

  President Lin shared his thoughts with only a handful of others, and whipped up support. Some vigorously opposed him, but he succeeded in laying a gag order on them. With the deadline approaching, President Lin stood before the transmission equipment of his presidential residence with his reply prepared...

  “So that’s where you were,” said a familiar voice from behind him. “I was looking for you.”

  “Ah, right,” replied Jinto.

  There stood a tall, slim, middle-aged man. It was Teal Clint, President Lin’s private secretary. He had served in that role since Lin was a member of Parliament, and had known him since before Jinto was born.

  Jinto, for his part, had known about him since he was a child. He more than merely knew him, though. He had practically been raised as his own flesh and blood.

  Jinto never knew his mother. She had been a mine supervisor, dying in an accident before her only son had even learned to crawl. Rock Lin had felt uneasy about the prospect of raising his son as a single father, and he had his hands full with his political responsibilities, so he asked Teal, whom he found so dependable, as well as his wife Lina, to bring up Jinto. The Clints were fond of one another, but by happenstance were without child, so they were actually grateful when they took up Rock’s request. Jinto believed himself to be Teal’s son until primary school, and the affection he felt for that secretary was deeper than what he felt for his real father. The person he loved the most in the world, however, was Lina Clint.

  The sharp features of Teal’s dark-skinned face were overcast by a sullen shadow.

  “I’m sorry,” Jinto apologized. He thought he’d be scolded for being outside in the dead of night — and a particularly dangerous night at that, given the situation. “I’ll go back to my room right now!”

  “That’s all right. Just come with me.” Teal grasped his hand with enough force to nearly tear it off and stomped off.

  Fear dawned on Jinto at the sight of Teal’s un
usual, alarming behavior. “Where’re we going?”

  “The Presidential Residence.”

  “The Presidential Residence?”

  The City of Crandon, the sole city on all of Martin and home to its humans, was composed of three hybrid-functionality structures. They had been given exceedingly practical names, devoid of sentiment: “Omni I,” “Omni II,” and “Omni III.” Jinto lived in Omni III with the Clints, while the Presidential Residence was in Omni I.

  “What’re we going there for?” Going to the Presidential Residence meant seeing his father. What business did his father have with him during such a pivotal time? To say nothing of Teal Clint, who, as the secretary of the head of government, should have had more vital work than picking up an eight-year-old boy.

  “Just come!” Teal turned his back and strode on.

  “Wait! Hold on!” Teal’s strides, which were long even for an adult, forced the adolescent boy to trot to keep up with him. Normally, he’d slow his pace for Jinto; what on earth had happened?

  Teal didn’t so much as turn his head. “We have no time, hurry up.”

  Finally, they had arrived at the elevator-box.

  “Hey, are you mad at me about something? I’ll say I’m sorry, so please...”

  Teal didn’t answer back. His frustration evident, he just poked at the elevator-box’s wall with his index and middle fingers, waiting for it to open up.

  Finally, the elevator-box doors opened. No one was in it. Jinto had never been so frightened by the idea of being alone with Teal.

  “Take us to the Nexus Floor,” Teal told the computer that directed the elevator.

  The doors closed and, when the elevator began to lower, Jinto felt he couldn’t keep quiet for even a second longer. “Hey, do you think we can win?”

  “We’ll neither win nor lose. There won’t be a war to win,” he grumbled in reply.

  “So we gave up?”

  Teal glared at the boy. “That’s right. Your father chose to surrender. He didn’t just ‘surrender,’ though – he sold us out.”

  “He sold us out? What do you mean?”

  “The bastard made a deal. A dirty, rotten deal,” spat Teal bluntly.

  “A deal?”

  “Stop repeating me like a damn parrot!”

  “I... I’m sorry.” The boy ducked his head.

  “Don’t get me wrong; I was against war, too. It really doesn’t look like we could win. But to make a deal like that!? Dammit, I’ve lost all respect for Rock!”

  Jinto grew sad. He’d been secretly proud that he had two fathers. And yet, here was the father who raised him cursing out the father who sired him. His eyes filled with tears.

  The father that raised him flashed a guilty expression upon seeing the boy start sobbing convulsively. “I’m sorry. It’s not remotely your fault, but I...”

  “Tell me what’s going on! I’ve got no idea...”

  “Nor would you.” Teal ruffled his short black hair. “Like I said before, Rock struck a deal. What he did will be announced all too soon. There’s no doubt he’ll be the object of the scorn of all who live on Martin. There will even be quite a few who will think that if they can’t lay their hands on him, they can at least pummel his family members. That’s the reason I’m taking you to the Presidential Residence, where there’s strict security.”

  “You mean I’ll get beaten up by a mob?” Jinto quivered.

  “It’s not out of the question.” Teal nodded in cruel confirmation. “Even if it doesn’t come to that, they’ll heap harassment on you. Verbal abuse. Throwing things. Maybe you’ll get a smoke candle tossed into your room.”

  When Teal referred to Jinto’s room, the first thing that popped in his mind was Lina Clint. “Then what’s Lina gonna do? Tons of people know I live in your house!”

  “I’ve already contacted her. She’s a grown-up; she can take care of herself.”

  “You mean she’s gone to a safe place before us?” He couldn’t believe Lina would run away without him.

  “Yep.” Teal read Jinto’s expression. “She was worried about you, you know. I calmed her down by telling her I’d go look for you.”

  “Okay.” But something wasn’t sitting right with him. After all, there would have been no guarantee Teal would actually find him. Lina would have wanted to search for Jinto, too. That’s what the Lina that Jinto knew would have done.

  The elevator reached the Nexus Floor on Tier 3, and its doors opened. Each morose for different reasons, the two stepped out onto the Nexus Floor. Countless elevator-tubes were lined up on this floor, running from the top to the bottom of the hybrid-functionality building. They were reminiscent of the pillars holding up the heavy roof of an ancient temple. Unmanned taxi-boxes rushed around between the tubes.

  A taxi-box detected the elevator-doors opening and stopped in front of them. With just his right arm, Teal prompted Jinto to get on. Jinto tried to settle his nerves, but he couldn’t regain his composure.

  “The Presidential Residence. Hurry,” Teal murmured tersely to the taxi-box. Afterwards, he crossed his arms, and remained silent.

  Jinto wondered what exactly the “deal” entailed. The mood that hung in the air made it exceedingly difficult to probe Teal, but he gathered up all the courage in his small frame and asked: “C’mon, tell me about the deal.”

  “It’s confidential. It’s being kept under wraps from the general public until the official announcement.”

  “From me, too?” he hazarded to ask, timidly.

  The secretary snorted in response. “Capitalizing on your new privileges already, I see!”

  “What do you mean...?”

  “Switch on the holo. The announcement will be on in no time.” Jinto did as he was told and switched on the taxi-box’s attached holovision. The stereoscopic video played above the manual driving apparatus.

  “For now, the Abh fleet hasn’t made any moves,” said the tiny, translucent figure. “Reports have come in that there has been some kind of back-and-forth between President Lin and the invaders. According to information obtained from a certain source, it is said that our surrender to the Empire has been confirmed. Even so, we cannot but continue to hope that those reports are mistaken, and that our leaders will make decisions with honor. In addition, we received notice that there will be a, quote, ‘statement of grave significance’ delivered at the Presidential Residence at precisely 25 o’clock. 90 seconds remain.”

  They were a long 90 seconds – a minute and a half he wanted to elapse quickly, but that he also wanted to stretch on forever. Jinto was running out of patience as he anxiously stared at the 3-dimensional video, glancing occasionally at the man beside him.

  Teal was as still as a statue. He didn’t give the hologram so much as a peek, instead fixing his line of sight straight ahead.

  The taxi-box exited the hybrid-functionality structure and ran through the Liaison Tube suspended in the Exotic Jungle.

  Finally, the time came.

  The video had already shifted to displaying an empty podium. Then, a handsome-looking spokesman appeared to take the podium. “I will deliver the statement.”

  Jinto gulped from the tension, and gazed at the spokesman’s mouth.

  “Today, at 23:52, Rock Lin, President of the Government of the Hyde Star System, expressed to Crown Prince and Imperial Fleet Commander Ablïarsec néïc-Lamsar Dusanh, His Highness King of Barce, his intention to cede the Hyde Star System’s autonomy. Starting today, we are a part of the Humankind Empire of Abh.”

  Though the holographic projection didn’t display them, Jinto could hear the clamor of the press corps that had been intently watching the spokesman. There was no shock, no anger in that tumult of voices. There was only resignation. He even heard someone mutter an “I knew it.”

  Jinto glanced at Teal, thinking: See, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

  “There’s more,” said Teal.

  “However, the President felt that he’d like for the citizens of the Hyde Star Sys
tem to be the ones to operate the paths to other systems, and as such suggested a compromise. That is to say, a proposal to install a citizen of this system as our ‘lord.’”

  “You mean that’s possible!?” someone gasped.

  “There will be time for questions later. Please maintain order,” the spokesman said, parrying with ease. “However, I will make an exception in this case and answer. Given the terms they reached, it was indeed possible. In exchange for the codes necessary to disable our anti-space defense system, our new ruler acceded to conditions more favorable for us.”

  “Then who’s this new ‘lord’?”

  “I told you, you may ask questions later. The initial idea was to select our lord by means of an election. Unfortunately, however, the positions of imperial nobility aren’t swayed by electoral results. Nobles aren’t generally familiar with the electoral system to begin with!” the spokesman said, attempting a chuckle and botching it.

  Even through the airwaves, viewers picked up on the increasingly murderous current in that room.

  “Who’s our lord!?” Same question, different voice.

  “You did watch Commander Ablïar’s explanation regarding the Empire and Star System, did you not? He may be our ‘lord’ in a technical sense, but he’ll be more akin to the owner of a space trade company. Owners of corporations aren’t chosen through elections; it’s mostly hereditary in practice, so...”

  “Who’s our lord!? Dammit, I know, everyone here knows, and you better believe everyone watching knows! We just want to hear you say it, loud and clear! Tell us, what’s the name of our new lord and master?”

  Even Jinto had caught on, however much he didn’t want to believe it. “It can’t be... he’s lying...” He looked to Teal’s eyes for salvation. And yet, he sat there expressionless, his lips shut. Jinto turned back to the broadcast, to find the spokesman staring up. He’d been driven into a corner.

  “Very well. It’s as you’ve all probably surmised. Rock Lin will be making our star system his territory.” The outcry that ensued could only be described as unmitigated rage.