Dinner With Family

by Hiroyuki Morioka

  Consequently, it was the Empire’s view that preferential rights to all space and celestial bodies outside of the system’s sole inhabited planet went to the House of Hyde. And the most vital of those celestial bodies was none other than the Hyde System’s sun, also named Hyde. If they were to develop and expand on the antimatter fuel factories surrounding that sun, they could produce antimatter fuel for the next five billion years. Such was the privilege of the House of Hyde, but also its duty. No matter whether it was a populated territory-nation, or merely a small domain with no indigenous population, the primary role of any star-fief was to serve as a fuel resupply base.

  And it was the job of a bélycec (investigator) to determine the appropriate amount to levy.

  Few societies in the cosmos welcome tax collectors with open arms, and the Empire’s aristocracy was no exception, but Jint found this Yestesh a dependable fellow. Providing counsel to the liege was included in the man’s work duties. And from what Jint had heard, he was quite the veteran bureaucrat. One couldn’t tell from the Abh-by-blood’s outward appearance, but he’d been working as an investigator for twenty years, and apparently even held rank as a Bomoüass Sazoïr (Quartermaster Hecto-Commander).

  There was a good reason someone as senior as Yestesh had been dispatched here. Shortly after the Countdom of Hyde became a territory of the Empire, it got taken over by the United Humankind. That fact presented a slew of complicating circumstances that were comparatively unique even among the sundry worlds of the Empire.

  Even so, Jint was still annoyed by how he could barely escape this consummate bureaucrat. Yestesh would let nothing evade his notice, including things Jint didn’t think were worth the effort.

  “I should start by relaying the present state of affairs,” said Yestesh. “No reports yet of the landworld administration of Martinh accepting reentry into the Empire.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Jint, nodding so as to seem as gravely serious as possible.

  Strictly speaking, Jint’s home planet was not yet imperial territory. It appeared there were still land troops on the surface. The Star Forces, after securing the Hyde Portal, kept a recon squadron in the area to search for enemy ships for about a month, only to determine there was no sign of the enemy in the astrospace and promptly withdraw. Even the interstellar ships making use of neighboring routes ended up passing by the Hyde Portal, having no way to resupply in the system. Only patrol ships and battle-line ships would ever drop by the Countdom of Hyde, in order to verify anew the will of the landworld administration. That was how Jint and the others knew they hadn’t changed their minds.

  “How long has it been since the last space-time fusion?” asked Jint.

  “There has been no space-time fusion since leaving the Saudec Estoter (Estotec Portal).”

  Jint inwardly heaved a sigh. The Baucbiruch was currently sailing through planar space. Inter-bubble communication was only possible at close range, and the rate of information transfer was extremely slow at that. In other words, as long as they didn’t merge with the space-time of another ship, there was no way for them to keep abreast of the latest news. Yet they reported the current situation as conscientiously as they could.

  “The amount of information is lessening with time,” said Yestesh. “Since they can’t resupply antimatter fuel, ships are veering away from the Countdom of Hyde.”

  “I know that.” Jint wondered why he kept stating the bleeding obvious. He’d thought the Abh were a more practical race. “We are currently recruiting fuel-related personnel. We are also arranging our equipment, and plan to arrive in the countdom alongside the necessary personnel.”

  “I know that.” Yestesh’s eyes screamed, “why is this young man stating the obvious.”

  Is he for real? lamented Jint.

  “Now then, have there been any changes to our plans?”

  “No, no changes,” said Jint sharply.

  “Then we’re to stay in the Vorlash Countdom for some time, correct?”

  “For some time? We’re not just resupplying there?” Lafier butted in.

  “Yeah. It’s undecided for how long, but the plan’s to stay there. Did I forget to tell you?”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of this. Why must we stay at a place like that?”

  To Jint, the planet Delktu was a trove of memories. To Lafier, it was some unremarkable rock.

  Jint’s displeasure must have crept over his face; Lafier’s sharp eyes spotted it. “Do not tell me it’s because it’s where we first met. Just hearing you say that would be dreadfully embarrassing.”

  “Oh, I won’t. It’d be even cringier to be the one firing off a line like that. But Vorlash, or rather Delktu, is my second home.”

  “Then we’re staying there because of your personal feelings?”

  “Well, I’d be lying if I said I was totally impassive, but we do have business there. I want to recruit vassals.”

  “Mechanics Linewing Samson is recruiting in Lacmhacarh, is he not?” Lafier knew Samson had had his name crossed off the military registers, yet she still appended his former title to his name.

  “I’m having Mr. Samson pick out engineer vassals, but we need administrative vassals, too. He was in the Mechanics Branch, and I’m in the Budget Branch. It makes sense that I should be looking for administrative vassals.”

  “But surely, it would behoove you to look for them in Lacmhacarh, too.”

  “If anything, we ought to be searching in Martinh, since the people there are familiar with their own situation. But it’s not in the cards at the moment.”

  “If so, we should be making it over there as soon as possible to make the landworld administration surrender, no?” She wasn’t trying to persuade him, but rather asking sincerely.

  “If you’re that confident you can persuade them, we’ll do that.”

  “If we try and fail, we can always return to Vorlash then,” she said, cornering Jint without even meaning to.

  “Fair point,” he replied. Jint realized he may have just come up with any old excuse to postpone going to the system that had become his star-fief.

  “Actually,” said Yestesh, Jint’s unexpected savior (though not through any volition of Yestesh’s own), “it may be best to wait a little while before His Excellency returns to his star-fief.”

  You’re right, Jint was about to say, before stopping himself in the nick of time. “Why is that?”

  “It pains me to say it, but conditions as of now are very rough. I believe it would be best if I go there first and gather more detailed information.”

  “I see.” Instead of a young grandee strolling on up and making affairs even more tangled, the experienced public official ought to observe the scene first.

  “The Star Forces have already conducted some reconnaissance in the countdom, but it’s still unclear at the moment what exactly the landworld administration’s thoughts are. I think it wise to ascertain that before Your Excellency goes to persuade them.”

  “From what I’ve heard, they fancy independence.”

  “Such a strange notion,” said Yestesh, pity in his voice. “They can’t be serious.”

  “They knew there were other worlds somewhere, but they didn’t know anything beyond that. They’d spent more than two hundred years living solely off their system.”

  “Yes, I did hear tell. It’s just so hard to picture a system with such an isolated economy.”

  “I don’t blame you, but I can tell you Martinh’s administration would have no qualms staying isolated from interstellar economics.”

  “If that’s the case, then why don’t we leave them be?” asked Lafier. “I don’t think there’s any need to lose our heads over it.”

  “We haven’t.”

  “Oh?”

  “Do I look that flustered to you?”

  “It seems to me like your landworld citizens can take care of themselves; why don’t we just bide our time until they come to the Empire of their own accord?”

  “By
that time, my debt will’ve reached astronomical proportions,” pointed out Jint.

  “That won’t be a problem if we install antimatter fuel factories and itymh (refueling stations). We don’t particularly need the administration’s assistance for that.”

  “What, so you’re not gonna say ‘take however many loans you need’?”

  “It isn’t my money.”

  “But you’re the inheritor, aren’t you?”

  “That is a long way off, and my brother might be the one who ends up inheriting, anyway.”

  Yestesh cleared his throat. “Your Highness, I’m afraid that plan might not necessarily fly. So long as the landworld Martinh is near the Hyde Portal, its administration’s stability is indispensable. Ships can’t afford to expend time and effort to fly out to Hyde’s sun or to a gas planet further out from the sun than Martinh in order to refuel.”

  I dunno, looks pretty stable to me, thought Jint. He did know what Yestesh meant, of course, so he refrained from picking him apart. To Yestesh, a “stable” landworld administration was one that wasn’t ostensibly hostile to the Empire. It was understandable why he might not deem a world where the term “territory-nation “ and the truth of the matter were so estranged as “stable.” That being said, seeing as it was the Empire that dubbed Hyde a “territory-nation,” Martinh’s government felt quite stable, and they probably ought to be viewed as such. (Incidentally, if they ever came to know they were being called a “territory,” they’d doubtless have a fit.)

  ...Before he knew it, Jint’s train of thought was running in circles.

  “Then it’s just as I thought. We should save recruiting vassals for after we’ve gotten a grasp of the landworld administration,” said Lafier. “Or no?”

  It seemed this conversation was running in circles, too. Jint chose to make a decision here and now. “Mr. Yestesh, I hereby formally request that you go to the Countdom of Hyde ahead of me. In the meantime, I will stay in the Countdom of Vorlash, and gather some vassals if possible.”

  “I accept your request, Lonh-Dreur,” nodded Yestesh.

  “It’s your territory-nation, so I have no objections,” said Lafier.

  “Then it’s settled. What’ll you do, Lafier?”

  “Do about what?”

  “You gonna stay in Vorlash with me, or go see my home planet ahead of me?”

  “I’m here to keep you company,” said Lafier. “Besides, I couldn’t stand to let you just take it easy without me.”

  “All right then.”

  “About that, Lonh-Dreur,” said Yestesh. “Where will you stay in Vorlash?”

  “I intend to put up at a hotel in the spaceport, at least to start with.”

  “To start with?” Yestesh raised an eyebrow.

  “I’d like to try my luck staying on the surface if I can.”

  “Lonh-Dreur, don’t tell me you wish to stay at an inn run by a landworld citizen?” he asked, a measure of distress ruddying his brow.

  “You’re saying I can’t?” he said, somewhat confrontationally.

  “Your Excellency is an imperial noble,” he explained, as one might to a child.

  Ugh... will the day ever come when people stop getting a kick out of telling me I’m a noble? Needless to say, he knew he was in the wrong. It was all because he lacked a certain active self-consciousness — he didn’t really see himself as a noble. Whether that was ultimately a good or a bad thing, he didn’t know, but it did trip him up when it came time to conduct himself as an imperial noble.

  “I think even just the spaceport is rather unsafe. I can post some of my subordinates as your guards, but none of them are dedicated bodyguards. Also, I brought them here in order to investigate Your Excellency’s territory, and so they’d end up in a place far removed from where they’re meant to be working.”

  “The spaceport’s unsafe, you say?”

  The Bidautec Delctur (Delktu Spaceport) belonged to the Dreughéc Bhorlacr (House of Vorlash), but there was a Star Forces administrative zone as well, with soldiers on duty at all times.

  “Yes,” nodded Yestesh. “Landworld citizens are allowed there, and there might be people formerly of UH military rank among them. And even if that’s not the case, there are many out there with wild ideas.”

  With those words, Jint grew more and more worried. Now he wanted to collect as much info as possible on the current situation over at the Delktu Spaceport using his wristgear...

  Soon, he learned the bœrélach bidauter (spaceport guard garrison) that the House of Vorlash set up was in shambles. “Well, that’s not very good.”

  “Besides...” Yestesh flashed a glance at Lafier.

  Jint knew what he was getting at. It was painfully obvious. A young grandee jumping into danger at his own risk was one thing, but he could not be allowed to involve a royal princess of the Empire. After all, Lafier would be in a whole different level of danger compared to Jint.

  Jint was just a grandee, and one that looked like a normal Lander at that. Lafier, on the other hand, was a member of the Imperial Family, and a candidate for Empress. She was a much more attractive target for agents with an axe to grind against the Abh half of the galaxy. And there was no end to people intent on ransoming her life to make demands of the throne. In truth, it made no difference whether the Empress or a random imperial citizen was taken hostage. The Empire did not negotiate with kidnappers, and that was a known quantity throughout the Milky Way, but endless scores refused to believe that was anything but subterfuge. In fact, the title of “First Person to Successfully Extort the Empire” was all the more alluring for it.

  Jint also understood why Yestesh didn’t outright explain all this. There was a tendency for the Royal Princess to lose her temper whenever she felt sheltered by others. That wasn’t unique to Lafier — it was a trait shared by all in the Abliar clan. Therefore, Abhs with their heads screwed on tried to avoid pointing out danger to an Abliar, and, if the cat was out of the bag, to avoid suggesting they change their mind regarding said danger. And Yestesh had his head screwed on tight.

  “I strongly suggest you stay at the Garich Dreur Bhorlacr (Vorlash Count’s Manor),” said Yestesh.

  “At the manor, huh...” Jint didn’t hate the House of Vorlash, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect, either. Back when he’d lived in Delktu, the landworld right underneath the Manor, they must have been aware that the heir to the House of Hyde was on-planet, and yet they never contacted him. Jint didn’t bemoan that; he just took it as a sign that perhaps the House of Vorlash harbored some prejudice against landworlder nobles.

  As for why Jint never took the initiative and paid the Manor a courtesy call, one reason was that he’d been brought to Delktu when he was still a clueless and callow little boy, and by the time he realized it, he’d already long since let the opportunity slip by. One other reason — a reason he couldn’t deny — was that he was afraid he might get treated coldly, which would land a blow to his self-esteem.

  There were other reasons to avoid staying at the Manor even outside of that purely emotionally-based hesitation. Part of why he was going to begin with was to recruit vassals. Being stuck high up in orbit would hardly serve that end.

  Jint gave it some thought, and came up with a safe course of action. I’ll stay at the Manor for the time being, and then I’ll head for the spaceport and/or the surface by my lonesome. It wasn’t as though he’d need Lafier’s assistance to go headhunting, anyway.

  The big problem was getting the Royal Princess to agree to that. There was no hope she’d take it lying down if she perceived it as coddling her. A fight would be sure to ensue. But if he weathered that storm, the skies were clear from there.

  “I’ll try asking the Dreuc Bhorlacr (Count of Vorlash) to let me stay at the Manor.”

  “I can do that for you, if you wish?” said Lafier.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “This is my job.” Reluctant though he was to engage in inter-grandee negotiations, (and all the more so due to it be
ing his first time), he’d feel like a worm making Lafier do it for him. This was a matter for the House of Hyde — that is, Jint himself — to attend to.

  Of course, a royal princess of the Empire asking would carry more weight than a count from a neighboring system, but as Jint couldn’t hide that he was accompanied by a princess, it was very unlikely the House of Vorlash would turn them down, no matter who made the request.

  “Have neither of you heard, Lonh-Dreur, Fïac Lartnér?” said Yestesh, eyes wide.

  “Heard what?”

  “Currently, Count Vorlash and his family are missing. At the onset of the Three Nations Alliance’s invasion, Aimemyrh Aronn Boscycer Dreuc Bhorlacr Mhisceucec-Lonh was together with his loved ones at the Mansion. And even now that we’ve recovered the Vorlash Countdom, their whereabouts remain unknown. They were likely taken somewhere within the Three Nations. Or, perhaps, they’re no longer alive.”

  “Then how is Vorlash coping in general?”

  “Her Majesty the Empress has filled the countship for the time being, with administrative affairs being handled by a magistrate.” The investigator then ran a search on his wristgear. “Her name is Aimemyrh Üémh Cerdér Dereuzz. Judging by her name, she’s of the gentry, connected to the Emyoor Clan.”

  “Guess that won’t affect our stay there, then.”

  “Correct, but I shall be the one to make the request. Magistrates standing in for Her Majesty are duty-bound to accede to the requests of us investigators to the best of their ability, so that will smooth out the process.”

  “Okay, understood. Then I leave it to you. Thank you,” said Jint, relief washing over him.

  The look and feel of Delktu were unchanged from before the Three Nations Alliance takeover — or at least, so it appeared from way up in the spaceport.