“That was it. That was the deal,” said Teal. “Just so he could rise in status to a noble, he handed our only weapon over to our invaders. I had no idea those Abhs had feared our anti-space defense system so much. Maybe we could have put up a real fight after all.”
“B-But...” Jinto tried his level best to defend his father’s honor. “He tried to get them to let us vote for who’d be lord at first! Which means—”
“I wouldn’t know!” Teal ground his back teeth. “I only caught wind of his ‘idea’ after it was all over. After the defense systems had been disabled, after the Lin family would join the ranks of imperial nobility. I don’t care what terms he initially proposed. That weasel didn’t bother consulting me, his own secretary, beforehand, and he apparently didn’t think he had much use for me, either. He must have thought all I could do was bring his kid someplace safe. And here I thought we were best friends!”
“Ah...” Now an additional reason Teal was so mad was made clear. Teal saw what he did as a personal betrayal as well.
“All of you, calm down!” the spokesman on the holovision shrieked. “If you would just think it through rationally, you would understand that this is our best course of action. President Lin will pay the utmost consideration to all of our government’s demands. In truth, as long as he doesn’t violate the orders of the Empire, he intends to follow the will of the star system’s government – the government of the people. I hope you realize that that wouldn’t be something we could hope of someone born a noble of the Empire. We can expect the maximum level of freedom afforded to any star system under the Empire’s control.”
“Malarkey!”
“How can we take you at your word!?” Some questions could be heard through the jeering outbursts.
“Where is President, ahem, Lord Lin currently?”
“Yeah, where is that lout!?”
“Errr...” The spokesman had reached a state of stammering previously unthinkable given his job performance up until that moment. “In order to iron out the particulars and to formally receive his peerage at the Empire’s capital, he headed to an Abh fleet flagship. He embarked on an Abh landing ship on the French Prairie, and he’s currently aboard.”
“So he scarpered off!”
“Must be why he put off the announcement for so long.”
“Wonder if he’ll be back?”
“Oh he’ll be back, surrounded by imperial guards.”
“No, even if he wanted to return, there’s no way he could. You think the Empire’d make him a noble that easily? Heh, looks like he himself got duped. Serves him right!”
“Everyone, please!” But the spokesman was waging a one-man battle. “Please, you must understand, the President made the decisions he made with the happiness of every citizen in mind, not for personal profit—”
Jinto couldn’t take any more. He switched off the holovision.
“And that’s how it is,” said Teal. “This makes you the next in line for the lordship, you know. Oh my, how crass of me to address you in such a vulgar fashion. You are our ‘Noble Prince,‘ after all. I humbly beseech you, if you would be so magnanimous, forgive me my lapse in manners, Your Excellency.”
Jinto tried to convince himself that it was all in good humor, but there wasn’t a shred of levity on Teal’s face.
“Stop it, Teal...” Jinto struggled to hold in the tears. “Why are you talking to me like that... It’s not fair... “
“I know it’s not.” Teal kept staring straight ahead. “I know I’m treating you horribly. It’s just, I can’t get over it. Son of a... It may not look it, but I’m trying my hardest not to yell. Dammit, damn it all...”
The taxi-box entered Omni I’s Nexus Floor. The elevator for the Presidential Residence would be arriving soon.
“There’s only one thing I want to know...”
“What?” Teal looked his way.
“When you told Lina to run...” Suddenly, he lost the desire to finish asking the question. But there was no getting around it; he had to hear the answer. “...Did you tell her about the deal, too?”
“... No. It was being kept under wraps from the general public.” That moment’s hesitation mercilessly exposed his lie.
“I see...” Jinto could virtually hear the rattling as the world with which he was so intimately familiar — the world he loved — collapsed around him.
Chapter 1: Delktu Spaceport
The hustle and bustle hit his ears the instant he stepped off the dobroriac (DOHBROHREEA, elevator-tube) leading away from the planet’s surface. Jinto stood still and looked around the waiting-plaza.
Is this what this place looked like? Jinto tried to recall what it had been like, back then.
It was his second time arriving at a bidautec (BEEDOHT, spaceport). The first time was seven years ago, when he’d arrived at this very spaceport on the planet Delktu from Martin (or Martinh “MARTEENYUH” as the Abh pronounce it).
His memories of that time, however, were quite fuzzy. He was sure he must have passed through here while he was following that stewardess on the rébisadh (REBEESAHDTH, cargo passenger ship), though.
All around the circular floor shot elevator-tubes connecting to various places within the port, and at the center lay the elevator-tube leading back to the surface that was also used for cargo. The sight reminded him of the Nexus Floor in the hybrid-functionality building in which he was born and raised.
The difference was that this place was a space for endless carousing. People, self-propelled vending machines, and more were milling around all the countless tables and seats. Of course, there were also people seated on those chairs, many tucking into the food and drink they’d purchased off the vending machines passing by while chatting cheerfully in a variety of languages.
The informational broadcast rose in volume so as not to be drowned out by the background music.
“The Lengarf Glorn, the rébh (REV, passenger ship) headed toward the Laicerhynh Estatr (LEKUHRRYOONYUH ESTAHT, Duchy of Estoht), is scheduled for a 17:30 departure. Customers who have not yet completed their check-in procedures, we urge you to do so soon, before proceeding to elevator-tube 17...” Either Delktunians knew how to kill time, or this was the norm across most of the spaceports of the frybaréc (FRYOOBAR, Empire).
Other passengers darted around Jinto in annoyance. Realizing he had become an obstacle in their path, Jinto started walking, too. The dagboch (DAHGBOHSH, self-propelled luggage) zoomed after him. Gravity here was maintained to be equal to that of Delktu’s surface.
The hundred or so people who’d departed the surface aboard the elevator-tube got swallowed by the bustle, and in mere moments, Jinto was all by himself. Not that he hadn’t felt alone even inside the tube. As a whole, Delktunians were friendly, but when it came to him, no one initiated any conversation. For instance, a group of three had been laughing and chatting until they caught sight of Jinto, after which they quickly cleared out to the side. When Jinto passed into view, the atmosphere around them grew tense.
Oh well, I guess only real weirdos would want to chat it up with somebody dressed like me.
The sorf (SORF, jumpsuit) he was wearing underneath was more than fine. It was the fashion of the day, after all.
The daüch (DAOOSH, long robe), on the other hand! Why in blazes did he need to parade around in a daüch!? It was absurd. The robe lacked sleeves, while its shoulders hung over each of his own in a V-shape. Held in place by the ctarœbh (KTAREHV, ornamental sash) tied around his waist, it widened from there until it reached his feet. It was a stark white, while its hem and collar bore thick bordering.
The datycirh (DATYOOKEERR, computing crystals) inlaid in his creunoc (KRYOONO, compuwatch) were green, identifying his family status as a newly ascended noble.
In addition, an elegant almfac (AHLFA, circlet) adorned his head. It was made to match Jinto’s status, though he didn’t know that. As it was vouched for by the Gar Scass (GAR SKAHS, Institute of Imperial Crests), one could only assume it was
a good match for him.
This was the standard outfit among rüé-simh (ROOEH SEEF, imperial nobles).
In fact, this was the first day he’d ever put on the appearance of a noble. Granted, upon inspecting his reflection in the mirror, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. If one didn’t pay too much mind to how his shoulders were broader than a typical Abh’s, the look was tolerable, if only barely.
That being said, it was not at all common for a noble to be alone in a civilian spaceport, and his brown hair instantly gave him away as not being Abh.
“We thank all currently disembarking patrons for riding with the passenger ship Sellef Niziel. Welcome to the Dreuhynh Bhoracec (DROOHYOONYUH VOHRAHK, the Countdom of Vorlash)! The next elevator-tube will be departing for the surface in three minutes. The baüriac (BAOOREEA, connecting shuttle ship) for the planet Gyuxath will be...”
These announcements were also broadcast twice: The first time in Delktunian, and the second in Baronh (BAHROHNYUH).
Sure enough, there was a crowd that had just disembarked the Sellef Niziel, but they didn’t seem to have any desire to get right on the elevator-tube. By all appearances, they instead planned to hold their first drinking party on Delktu at this geosynchronous orbital spaceport. They bought food and drink from the vending machines and spread them out on the tables.
Passengers who would soon be leaving this star system also drank together, and with great gusto. Jinto wondered how many people passed out drunk and let their ships slip away each day.
He couldn’t blame them. Almost all of them were immigrants, and for them, this was the one and only time they’d ever travel through space. Small wonder, then, that they’d want to cut loose.
“Hey! Lin Jinto!”
Jinto thought he must be hearing things. Unlike on Martin, on Delktu an individual’s family name came before their given name, so “Lin Jinto” was most definitely his name.
Not expecting much, Jinto searched for the source of that voice. If he hadn’t been hearing things, he was sure to have simply heard someone wrong; failing that, there was somebody else with the same name.
So he thought, but when he made out a strapping young man occupying a round table for four by himself, he started beaming with a joy he couldn’t see coming.
“Ku Durin!” Jinto called his friend’s name as he came to the table half-running. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”
“What am I doing? What else could I be doing here, ya blockhead? I’m here to see you off, dude. Duh.”
“I see! Thank you, man.”
“Or is the presence of a little urchin come to see you off bothersome to Mr. Fancy-shmancy Noble?”
Jinto laughed. “I said ‘thank you,’ didn’t I? Dumbass. You do know what the words ‘thank’ and ‘you’ mean, right?”
“I do when they’re pronounced right, ya phony immigrant. I’m surprised your accent never slipped out. Well, whatever, just sit down, would ya? I’m tired of waiting for you. Wasn’t it supposed to be an 18 o’clock departure? I wanted to see you off before you boarded, but I got here too early.”
“You should’ve sent me a message. I would’ve met up with you.” Jinto plopped onto a seat and took a look around expectantly.
“Ah, yeah.” Durin looked a little shamefaced. “I’m the only one who’s here to see you off. The others aren’t coming.”
“......Oh.” He tried to conceal his disappointment, but he wasn’t very successful.
“To tell you the truth, I was a little uneasy myself. I was afraid you might just ignore me when I called you over.”
“What’re you talking about?” Jinto objected placidly. “C’mon, man, we’re minchiu mates and everything. I wouldn’t ignore you.”
“Yeah, and we never had another player as terrible as you,” Durin replied. But then, suddenly, his expression turned gloomy.
“Don’t blame them, all right? We were all shocked. I mean, we knew you were going to an Abh school, but we never dreamed you were so... high-status...”
“It’s fine,” said Jinto. “I was probably in the wrong for keeping mum. But would you have honestly let me be your friend if I’d told you I was a noble?”
“No.” Durin shook his head. “It’d be pretty hard to imagine.”
“Yeah.”
“Minchiu” was the most popular ball sport in Delktunian society, with teams of ten competing against each other. Not only were there professional minchiu teams, there were also regional clubs, as well as school and even company clubs. Jinto learned about the game in his school’s minchiu club, and discovered, to his surprise, that he had some talent at it, after which he joined the regional club. There he made loads of friends, starting with Ku Durin.
But Jinto had had a secret. He had pretended he was the child of an ordinary immigrant. A mere three days prior, Jinto confessed to his band of friends that he had to leave Delktu, and that he was in fact an imperial noble.
From the way the atmosphere soured, one might have thought he’d confessed to killing someone. He’d never forget their reactions for the rest of his days. Unable to stand the situation, he’d turned heel and fled.
“None of us knows how to hang with a noble. Forget nobles, we’d never even seen a reucec (RYOOK, landed gentry) before.”
“I get it, ‘cause not even I know how I’m supposed to be acting.”
“Sounds serious.” Durin nodded. “But ya know, those noble clothes really suit you.”
“Don’t go saying things you don’t actually believe, ya galoot.” Jinto flicked his robe with his fingers. “Give it to me straight, it looks like something out of a history play.”
“I’ve gotta say, I’m feeling good. It’s not often a poor surface-dweller boy gets to talk face-to-face with a high and mighty noble — and a bhodac (VODA, landed, high-ranked “grandee”) youth at that!” Durin looked around and said “Oh, looks like we stand out a bit, huh.”
“Stop it,” said Jinto, exasperated. “I know how I must look. I don’t look Abh, that’s for sure.”
To that, Durin didn’t respond. “So, you’ll be returning to your home planet, right?”
“Huh?” Jinto blinked. Now that he mentioned it, while Jinto had told them he’d be leaving Delktu, he never did inform them where he’d be going. “No, man. I’m going to Lacmhacarh (LAHKFAHKARR).”
“The arauch (AROHSH, imperial capital)?”
“Right. It’s ‘study abroad’ for me once again, only this time around I’ll be attending a cénruc sazoïr (KENROO SAHZOEER, quartermasters’ academy).”
“The hell is that?” Durin stared back at him blankly.
“A school that trains administrative officials for the military,” Jinto explained. “Though I’ll be a lodaïrh sazoïr (LOHDAEERR SAHZOEER, starpilot quartermaster). Two months ago, I took the exam at the Laburéc (LAHBOOR, Star Forces) banzorh ludorhotr (BAHNZORR LOODORROHT, recruiting office), and I got in.”
“You’re gonna be a soldier?” His eyes opened wide, his surprise undisguised.
“Yep.”
“But haven’t you got your own ribeunec (REEBYOON, star-fief)? Why’re you going outta your way to...”
“I’m duty-bound, my friend. To inherit your snaic (SNEH, rank of nobility), being born into a noble household isn’t enough. You need to serve in the Star Forces as a starpilot for a minimum of 10 years. My father was already of advanced age, so they made an exception for him, but that won’t fly for me.”
“Guess nobles’ve got it rough, too.”
“Yeah. Seems like the higher your status in the Empire, the more obligations are thrust on you. I like it that way, though. It makes a lot more sense than the other way around. That said... it’ll actually be three years as an army trainee, and then ten years as a starpilot, for a total of thirteen years of army life. Kill me now.”
“But you will be returning to your home planet, right?”
“At some point, yeah. It is my fief, after all.” Though calling his home planet his “fief”
felt weird.
“No, I’m talking about returning there now. You’ve been gone for a long-ass time already.” Durin frowned.
“True, true.” Jinto hadn’t set foot on Martinh soil in seven years. It had been so long that he wasn’t certain he could even properly speak Martinese anymore. His only real lasting link with his home planet was the monthly tidings from his father. According to that correspondence, Teal Clint had become a leader in the anti-imperial movement. Jinto had no idea what had become of Teal’s wife Lina.
“Sadly, I’m not in any position to return at the moment,” he said, shaking his head. “It seems it’s not really a home for me anymore. The founding story of the Dreughéc Haïder (DRYOOZHEH HAEEDEHR, Household of the Count of Hyde) isn’t a heroic one. It’s the tale of an original sin. The people of Martinh all hate me and my father.”
“Ah.” His expression was one of deep sympathy. Though they may have been the descendants of immigrants, Delktunians felt a fierce affection for their planet. Getting chased away from their land with hurled stones was their greatest fear. “But you want to be a fapytec (FAHPYOOT, lord) despite all of that?”
“I don’t want to be one,” he pouted, chagrined. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about renouncing my inheritance rights. About becoming a citizen of Delktu and carrying on the same as ever. And even if I wanted to revert back to being a citizen of Martinh, it’s not like they’d forgive me anyway.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“My father persuaded me not to. Here’s the deal...”
The man formerly known as President of the Hyde Star System, Rock Lin, was now Linn ssynec-Rocr Dreuc Haïder Roch (LIN SYOON ROHK DRYOO HAEEDEHR ROHSH, Count of Hyde). He’d persuaded his son of the merits of the following line of thinking:
The planet Martinh holds an important resource. That is to say, all the lifeforms that evolved in ways unrelated to Earth’s. Humankind has created all manner of mutant creatures, but the gene splicing guided by the superficial wits of man cannot compare, even meagerly, to the evolution wrought by nature over eons. The agth (AEETH, territory-country) newly christened the Dreuhynh Haïder (Countdom of Hyde) is extremely rich and fertile.
Princess of the Empire (JNC Edition) Page 3