Dinner With Family

by Hiroyuki Morioka

  Finally, after devouring the missive, Yestesh raised his head. “Do you intend to accept these terms?”

  “Do you have any objections to that?” asked Jint, out of courtesy.

  “Well, this is a matter between the landworld administration and the system’s Lord, so I can’t interpose. But I must tell you, it’s an exceptional case among exceptional cases,” he said, a tad pompously.

  “I thought as much. Is it viable in the eyes of the law?”

  “It should be. One of my subordinates is a specialist in that area; if you so desire, shall I have the terms scrutinized?”

  “Please, by all means.”

  “And if the terms are, in fact, legally valid, you will accept them?”

  “I plan to, yes,” replied Jint.

  “Not to overstep my bounds yet again, sir, but I don’t think that’s very wise. Isn’t this a tad weak-kneed of you?”

  “It might be, but I believe it to be the best way.”

  “I see...” Yestesh looked unconvinced, to say the least, but he sent the file to his legal specialist. “Now, allow me to make a suggestion to you as an official of the Empire.”

  “Suggest away.”

  “It would behoove you to add one more provision to the text.” Yestesh proceeded to explain how the landworld administration’s sovereignty should be limited to just the landworld of Martinh. It was de rigueur among the Empire’s territory-nations for the administrative domains of landworld administrations not to extend past their respective planets’ atmospheres. As such, in the star systems like the Archduchy of Laitpanh with three inhabited planets, each planet had its own landworld administration for a total of three in the system. In general, space, the stars, and uninhabited planets belonged to the Abh — that was the Empire’s fundamental policy.

  “Far be it from me to thrust my nose into the finances of the House of Hyde, but if you do not make it clear that priority over the resources outside the landworld belongs to the Lord, it could hamper the operations of various imperial institutions, to say nothing of the Star Forces.”

  “I understand. Let’s work out a draft,” said Jint, but there was no need. The phraseology was all boilerplate stuff pulled from a collection of legal ordinances. The specialist finished looking it all over within the space of about an hour. The Empire did not forbid any of the landworld administration’s proposals. The text was altered with a single amendment, and then sent back to the landworld administration as the final response of the House of Hyde.

  The attack on the Forr Da Antohbeeta must have been effective, for the government of Hyde proved amenable to the added stipulation. With this, a meeting was no longer necessary, yet Jint wanted to go through with it anyway, for no other reason than to meet his family.

  “Jint. You’ve gotten so big.”

  “And you got older, Till.” Jint shifted his gaze on his other surrogate parent. “You haven’t changed at all, though, Lina.”

  “When did you become such a flatterer?” she smiled.

  “Since I was born. You never noticed?”

  “I suppose.”

  The place they were currently at was slated to become a worship chapel once the base became fully operational. As of now, however, it was all but empty. No cross, no pulpit, no pews. The stained glass images depicting religious icons and mysteries were all that hinted at the building’s future. Jint had his doubts the place would ever actually play host to hymns or homilies.

  The system government arranged for a table and chairs for them.

  “Let me introduce my companion,” said Jint, pointing at her. “This is a royal princess of the Empire by the name of Ablïarsec Néïc Dubreuscr Bœrh Parhynr Fïac Lamhirr.”

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Lafier in Martinese. She said it fluidly, but that was the extent of the Martinese she knew.

  Till and Lina were visibly surprised. Till recovered from his surprise faster. He clumsily bowed his head and said: “We welcome you to our sector, Your Highness.”

  “I give you my gratitude,” she nodded.

  “You really did move up in the world, huh, Jint,” said Till, impressed.

  Jint nodded in reply, and left it at that.

  “Please kiss Her Highness’s hand!” called out a sudden voice.

  “What the?” exclaimed Jint.

  “It’s the press,” Till grinned, abashed. “There’s no way they wouldn’t want to cover such a historic moment.”

  “Isn’t this kind of a breach of our agreement, Till?” Jint protested. “It’s supposed to be us only: the President of the Hyde Star System, the Count of Hyde, and his companion.”

  “I know. They’re not here at the base. All the equipment is remote-controlled.”

  “I mean, be that as it may...”

  “Please, Mr. President, you’ve gotta,” said a reporter, their tone of voice decidedly on the fresh side.

  “Never mind. Just understand that Abh ladies don’t go around giving people their hands to kiss,” said Jint. The Royal Princess would hardly be elated to press part of her body against the lips of people she’d just met.

  “Okay.” Till crossed his arms toward the ceiling.

  “May we ask you to cooperate?” pressed the voice.

  “How rude,” said Lafier. She wasn’t using the simplified version on her wristgear, but rather a specialized translation device mounted to her ear. She couldn’t speak Martinese, but she could understand it perfectly.

  “Her Highness stated that you’re being rude!” shouted Till.

  “Wow,” said Jint. “I guess the Abliar reputation for unholy wrath made it all the way out here.”

  “You idiot. That has nothing to do with this.”

  “Now then, let’s get the work over with. There’s no need for pomp and circumstance between us two,” said Till, taking out a sheet of paperwork. Unlike the Abh, the Martinese couldn’t give up their love of paper.

  “This really is for the best, in the end,” said Jint, after rereading.

  “I don’t think so at all,” said Lina.

  “You’re not a government official, so you’re not allowed to speak on this affair,” said Till, without looking at her.

  “Till’s only ever this strict when it’s convenient for him.”

  “You think this is convenient for me?”

  The paper was a consensus document. The Hyde government was to cede its sovereignty and become a territory-nation of the Empire, but on the proviso that the one who currently held the title of Count of Hyde and all who held it in the past were never to enter within a one light-second radius of Martinh’s center. Nor was the Count allowed to stay in the entire Hyde Countdom for a period of ten or more days, or communicate with the landworld.

  Naturally, the House of Hyde would have to dispatch a magistrate to do the Liege’s work in their place, but the selection of that magistrate was also stipulated to be the landworld administration’s right. In other words, by signing this document, Jint was nixing any chance of ever returning home. But in exchange, the Hyde Star System would be as close to independent as possible.

  “Is our conversation being recorded?” asked Jint under his breath.

  “No. Words spoken between leaders are top secret, for the government’s eyes only.”

  “Then I’ll be bold and say I’d have liked to walk the Exotic Jungle one more time.” The second he said it, his eyes grew teary. He felt a drop run down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away.

  “This is your last chance. Don’t sign; you can defect to our side, or seek asylum.”

  Jint glanced at Lafier. “No, I can’t mess up my home planet’s future out of personal sentiment. I don’t think my replacement as count would be as generous as me.”

  “Liar,” said Lina, laughing through her tears.

  “I’m not lying. And that’s not the only reason, either.” Jint pulled a chair and sat down.

  He waited until Till was seated to sign. The man who was President signed as well,
and they exchanged documents.

  “Now, this agreement won’t take effect until it’s approved by Parliament. This place may be within a light-second from Martin’s center, but I won’t cry foul until the agreement becomes law.”

  Till put out his right hand. Jint took it, and mused that this was probably the first time he’d ever shaken hands with his de facto father.

  “Now it’s private time for us!” Till shouted. “So please, enough recording!”

  After a bit of a back-and-forth, Till’s will held sway.

  Lina started arranging the dishes on the purely functional table. “I made you your favorites. Eat up, Your Highness.”

  “Ah, yeah,” said Jint, too shy to string together a proper reply.

  “Thank you for the meal,” said Lafier, though she didn’t partake right away. Her eyes wandered all over the table.

  “You eat with your hands,” said Jint, who realized she was searching for chopsticks. To show her how it was done, Jint took a bite out of his portion of “quinzbehr” — a sandwich with beef and white cabbage.

  The signature Martinese sweet-and-spicy style of seasoning was so nostalgic Jint couldn’t get enough. Lafier looked on with astonishment, and nibbled at her own quinzbehr.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but what’s with that luggage thing?”

  “Oh. I just thought I’d bring it along, seeing as this is family time,” said Jint, putting down his food to open the carrier.

  “What’re those?” said Till, taken aback.

  “Cats,” said Jint, holding Dyaho and Sercruca’s children in arm. One was a pure-white raigh, and the other a black-and-white cnasraigh. “Care to raise them for me?”

  “So that’s a cat. I’ve seen them in videos before,” said Lina, reaching out a timid hand. Jint handed her one. “I’m sure the ones I saw in the video were bigger than these little guys.”

  “They’re still young.”

  “And they get that big?”

  “How big do you mean?”

  “They were the size of humans.”

  “Oh, those must’ve been tigers or lions or some such. These are house cats. They only get around this big,” he said, showing them a picture of himself with Dyaho. He hadn’t brought Dyaho with him; there were too many crevices for him to hide in at this base. It’d be a pain to try to find him if he ran away.

  “Can I get this picture off you?”

  “Of course.”

  “We can’t take the cats, though,” said Till. “You may have forgotten, being off-world for so long, but we can’t take in anything that could upset the ecosystem.”

  “I didn’t forget, I just thought that old law might’ve changed.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “That sucks.”

  Lina was absorbing the photo while, right beside her, Lafier was trying Melohn Oh Shoo with a stiff and solemn expression.

  “How do you say, ‘it’s delicious’ in your home language?” she whispered.

  “You don’t have to force yourself. I know it’s not to your taste.”

  “That’s not true. Just tell me.”

  Jint told her.

  The time they spent together was lovely, but it had to come to an end.

  “Be safe, you two,” said Jint.

  “We will. I’m sorry for everything, Jint. Glad we could meet again,” said Till, who hugged him.

  “Took the words right out of my mouth,” said Jint.

  Lina couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye; she just put Jint’s hand against her cheek and sobbed. It was when she turned to Lafier that words finally came. “I implore you, Your Highness, take good care of him.”

  “Stop it, Lina.” Jint was red in the face. “I’m not a kid.”

  “I don’t think you are,” said Lina.

  “But...”

  “How do I say, ‘leave him to me’?” asked Lafier.

  Jint gave her a long stretch of words.

  “That many words for ‘leave him to me’?” Though suspicious, she repeated the sentence.

  Jint smiled. He hadn’t lied to her; Till and Lina most likely received what she wanted to convey loud and clear. He just couched it in a Martinese-language expression. Lafier’s phrasing was too blunt to be taken as anything but perfunctory by a Martinese speaker.

  The direct translation was as follows: I will be his soil to stand on, and I shall make him my soil to stand on.

  Chapter 10: Abdardaünsec (Re-Formation)

  From the Hyde Portal, supply ship after supply ship emerged into 3-space. The flotilla had finally made it to its destination, materials from faraway Lacmhacarh in tow.

  Jint was staring absently at the wallpaper of the office inside the Baucbiruch. Guess it’s time to bid this room goodbye.

  The Baucbiruch was currently the manor of the House of Hyde in both name and substance. He’d never planned to sit at this desk forever, of course, but he hadn’t expected to part with the ship in such short order, either. Life was such a series of surprises.

  His wristgear rang.

  “Lonh-Dreur,” said Sehrnye. “Mr. Swohsh has arrived.”

  “Thank you. Please send him my way. Also, please tell Mr. Samson to come here, too.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  This would be the last time Sehrnye would act as his secretary, too. The employees and materials Sehrnye’s company needed were here now. She could go do her real job. Though to his surprise, he did feel she made for a pretty good secretary.

  The door opened, and an old man came in. A tall old man. He was Swohsh, the magistrate of the Hyde Countdom, as selected by the landworld administration of Martinh.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Jint, standing up and offering a hand, as was the Martinese custom.

  “This isn’t our first meeting, Lonh-Dreur.” Swohsh gripped Jint’s hand in his own leather glove-like hand. “I’ve bumped into you a number of times when Your Excellency was a lad. I owed your father a lot.”

  “Oh, I see.” Now that he mentioned it, Jint did have a feeling he’d met the man before. “Our lives have taken various strange turns to get to this point, but thank you, and I look forward to working with you.”

  They exchanged a handful of pleasantries, but the entire time Jint was doing his best not to let the pain in his hand show on his face.

  Then Samson came in. Jint introduced the two to each other. Surprisingly, Swohsh greeted him in Baronh (albeit heavily accented Baronh).

  The Hyde Count’s Manor was floating 0.8 light-seconds from Martinh’s sky. Consequently, if the accord went into effect, he would be obligated to distance himself.

  The way Jint remembered it, Parliament was sure to work slowly, yet the representatives had ratified the agreement with alarming speed. Had politics changed while he was away, or was this a special exception?

  Jint could only stay here for another twenty hours. And he could only stay within the Hyde Countdom for another two hundred and sixty hours. After which he’d have no choice but to hand the management of the countdom to Samson and Swohsh. Their cooperation was essential. Jint was their Lord on paper, but for all intents and purposes he was an outsider.

  Once the two were finished with their rote salutations, Jint decided to make himself useful by offering his hospitality. He brought them tea and chairs.

  “I have a personal request of you...” said Swohsh, reluctant to bring this up.

  “What is it?” said Jint.

  “This means I’m going to have to live here, right?”

  “Not necessarily. While I think it would be more convenient on a practicality level, I don’t mind if you work in Crandon City if that’s what you want to do.”

  “No, I understand the benefits of working at the manor. May I use this room?”

  “Yes,” Jint nodded. “If that’s what you want, Mr. Swohsh.”

  “Thank you very much. I’ll keep it tidy.”

  Jint smiled wordlessly. There was an almost zero percent chance Jint would ev
er use this room again, so he didn’t particularly care how tidy Swohsh kept it, but he understood this was a thoughtful gesture. It did warm his heart.

  To tell the truth, Jint didn’t expect much out of whichever magistrate the Martinese decided on. He’d steeled himself to be viewed as “the enemy” by the de facto overseer that was the magistrate. And Swohsh could be an enemy, but he was a pleasant one as far as enemies went.

  “Well,” Swohsh continued, “you see, I, uh, took a look at the photo the Corints showed me, and...”

  “Huh?”

  “So, if I could make a personal request...”

  “Yes? What is it?”

  “It’s just, I heard you were looking for someone to raise the kittens, and if it’s all right with you, I’d like to humbly throw my hat in as a candidate. Cats might cause disturbances to the ecosystem, but there should be no problem whatsoever if I were to raise a cat here in the manor.”

  “I’d be delighted,” said Jint. “I have to warn you, though, cats don’t really help in the tidiness department. If you mean to keep this room tidy for me, you may have to keep out any cats.”

  “I see. It seems there’s much you must tell me; I don’t know a thing about raising cats.”

  “I can help you with that,” said Jint. “Of course, there’s usually a lot of people in any given group of Abhs with many years’ experience raising cats, so you might not need my help in the end. I have two kittens left; would you like both of them?”

  “No, thank you,” said Swohsh, shaking his head. “This will be my first creature, so tending to the needs of just one is likely challenging enough. And I’ll be fairly busy for a while, too. I’d like to take the pure-white one, if there’s no issue in doing so.”

  “No, no issues. Please cherish it and make it feel loved.”

  “Thank you so very much,” said Swohsh, expressing his overflowing gratitude before leaving the room with a spring in his step. The man hadn’t touched his tea.

  “So that’s one kitten you’ve got left,” said Samson.

  “Yep,” Jint nodded. But he hadn’t forgotten the terror of the dish called “lutimond.” “Don’t tell me YOU want to ‘raise’ a cat, too, Mr. Samson?”