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.

However, it is only through commerce with other star systems that those bio-resources can be our wealth. What do you think would happen if we left that exchange of goods to the Empire? There's no doubt they'd take a big bite out of it. They'd give the people nothing but their scraps, wouldn't you agree?

As such, it was necessary for someone of the Hyde Star System to become its lord and take part in its trade.

"Well, I'm convinced," said Durin.

"Yeah, it's reasonable enough. That's why I'm staying a noble. Although, I've been having my doubts lately..."

"Doubts? About?"

"Think about it — it's impossible to be a citizen of Hyde and an Abh noble at the same time. I don't have any of the rights of a citizen of Hyde anymore. Sure, it'll be fine with my father at the helm for the time being, though he doesn't have citizen rights in Hyde either. But he's convinced that he's working for the benefit of the star system. I intend to work for the system, too. But what about the generation after me? My son or daughter would have their genes altered; they'll be born as a beauteous blue-haired Abh. That's the rule, and there's no getting around it. They'll also likely be Abh culturally. Would they be capable of putting themselves in the shoes of a Hyde citizen?"

"Dude, you're so damn stiff. Stop overthinking!" Durin looked at him dumbfounded. "That bunch of idiots hates you anyway, so forget about them! Point is, you're part of a family business, and you get to decide whether you take it up or not. Though if I were you, I wouldn't even think about handing over such a big business to someone else."

A "family business," huh. Never thought about it that way. Jinto felt as though he'd been thrown a life vest. Jinto was an only child, so if he didn't become the next count, then the Lin family line would terminate without ever accumulating much by way of tradition. But so what? Who exactly would cry over that? "You're right. You're absolutely right."

"I'm always right." Durin suddenly pointed toward his toes. "Look right here. This is my first time at a spaceport. From up here, I think our planet looks really pretty, too."

It was then that Jinto realized the floor was projecting Delktu's surface. A screen right around the same size as their round table was displaying video footage of the clouds drifting over the planet. The arnaigh (ARNEZH, geosynchronous orbital tower) bridging the surface and the spaceport tapered so thin it seemed a thread before getting sucked into the clouds, which gleamed with the light of their star, Vorlash.

"Yeah. It is pretty." It dawned on him that he'd never looked down upon the surface of his true home planet, Martinh. The realization surprised him a little.

"By the way, how long've you been here? Five years?"

"Nah, been here for seven." Jinto looked back up at him. "The invasion of Hyde happened in I.H. 945 (Imperial History, Rüé-Coth ROOEH KOHTH)."

"So you came here right after they invaded? Am I remembering that right?"

"Yeah. I had no idea what was going on, they just shoved me on a frach (FRAHSH, traffic ship), and then whisked me away on a cargo passenger ship that was standing by in orbit. Let's just say I learned what it felt like to be an animal dragged to a zoo."

"But you had a retinue, right?" Durin bought some surguc (SOORGOO, coffee) from a passing vending machine and handed Jinto a can. "Take it, on me."

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. It feels good to treat a young master prince to a little something."

Jinto smiled. "So yeah, about my 'retinue' — there was nobody there for me. Or at least, nobody from Martinh."

"Whaaat? But that must've been a super raw deal. You were what, 10, back then?"

"Yeah, I was 10."

"Whose bright idea was it to send a 10-year-old kid alone to a star system dozens of light-years away?"

"Yep. So one of the stewardesses on the cargo passenger ship became a full-time attendant for me. I think she must've been asked to do so by my father. She took care of me in lots of ways, including bringing food to my cabin."

"Wow, sounds swanky." Durin looked a tad envious. "Must've been some high-class space travel."

"It wasn't." He grimaced at the memories of that time. "Not least 'cause I couldn't talk to anybody. There weren't any translation devices that could speak my home language then. She somehow managed by using a translation device for Ancient English..."

"Wait a sec. What's 'Ancient English'?"

"My home language is descended from Ancient English. But it's not like I ever learned Ancient English, and now I'm way out of practice with my Martinese. It's unintelligible to me."

"So it's just like Baronh." The majority of Delktunians couldn't understand Baronh, and Durin was no exception.

"Yeah, for the most part. Not that I really felt like chatting anyway. Aboard that ship, I kept quiet. I didn't even take a single step outside my cabin."

"Was that stewardess Abh?"

"No, I think she was a rüé-laimh (ROOEH LEF, citizen of the Empire), since she had black hair. Must've been from a nahainec (NAH'HEN, terrestrial world) somewhere. But that didn't matter to me then. They were a crew of invaders to me."

"Heh heh, if she'd been Abh, I've got a feeling you might've gotten attached to her."

"Why's that?"

"C'mon, you know how they say Abhs are all lookers. Guys and ladies alike! I don't care how young you are, you'd be all about playing nice when a gorgeous young woman comes along."

"Come on, dude." Jinto became somewhat huffy. "When I look back, I can't help thinking I did wrong by her. I mean, she even went so far as getting off the ship to do my paperwork so I could enroll in school. And despite that, I don't even know her name. She probably did introduce herself, but her name was buried in heaps of either Baronh or Ancient English, both of which were babble to me."

"Huh. Well, whatever. By now, that stewardess has gotta be middle-aged anyhow. Unlike Abhs, us Landers are just gonna keep aging."

"For god's sake, is that the only way you can think about people? I'm trying to express my earnest gratitude to her as a person..."

"Yeah-huh," said Durin, trying to pacify him. "No matter what, I only ever think about pulling in the chicks."

"Good grief," Jinto readily agreed. "You're the type that honestly believes that any old person in the crowd that passes you by is the love of your life. It doesn't matter how tenuous the connection is, you never lose time trying to get in super-cozy with her."

"Okay, first of all, I don't just fall for 'any old person.' She's gotta be cute, obviously. Second of all, I never think of her as the 'love of my life.' I just want her to be with me for a single night, in fact."

"Hah!" Jinto clapped. "So what's your success rate?"

"A lot higher than you think, pal."

"Oh really? I've only ever seen you take out a girl once. Plus, according to what I heard when I asked about it afterwards, that girl was your little sister."

"Fine, then what do you think my success rate is?"

"Zero."

"Look. Compared to zero times, one time is infinitely huge."

"What?" Jinto looked taken aback. "Don't tell me you're into... you know..."

"Quit it. I'm trying to tell you I've won the heart of a maiden that's not my sister."

"But just the once, huh?"

"More than once!" Durin fumed. "You just happened to never be around."

"That so? Hey, I'm willing to chalk it up to that for the time being."

"Oh man, you can't face reality, can you? Talk about averting your eyes from the truth. If I score with the ladies, what's it to you?" Then, Durin looked as though something had suddenly occurred to him. "Ah, could it be!? Are you actually into... you know..."

"That'll be enough of that." Jinto knew Durin was just firing back, so he took it lightly. "I'll have you know I'm a devout follower of the Hetero way. And no matter how thirsty I become, my faith shall hold strong. I will neither woo nor romance you."

"I'm fine with it, honestly." Durin's eyes clung to him.

"If you liked me, you should've confessed to me sooner. Oh yeah, we've still got time. Let's take a moment, before we part ways, to verify our romantic feelings..."

"In full view of all these people?"

"You think public view is any obstacle so long as you've got love?"

"You are surprisingly unrelenting, you know that. It makes me wonder whether you might secretly be a 'pagan' yourself."

"Don't be silly." Durin dropped the gag. "'Cause if you're a devout Hetero, then I'm a crazed Hetero fundamentalist extremist."

"Oh, I know." Jinto drank the rest of his coffee and tossed the paper cup into the receptacle in the middle of the table. "Thanks again for the drink."

"You don't need to thank me for a coffee, young master noble." Durin laid down the sick burn and, upon casting a fleeting glance to his right, gave the back of Jinto's hand a little poke.

"What is it?"

"Have a look."

Jinto followed Durin's line of sight. Sitting by an adjacent table was a middle-aged woman with brown skin. She was taking an interest in his strange combination of brown hair and noble attire so visibly that she was practically boring a hole in him.

If I were a real Bar simh (BAR SEEF, Abh noble), thought Jinto, how would I react in this moment? Would he have shouted at her, called her "insolent"? Would he have steadfastly ignored her? Or would he have shot her dead without a word?

But what Jinto ended up doing instead was flash her an ingratiating smile.

The middle-aged lady looked away slightly, as though she'd seen something she shouldn't have.

Jinto breathed a sigh.

"That old lady's hot for you, man. I'm jealous. You're an old-ladykiller. I've got half a mind to stick your face over my own..."

"That's not it. She was staring 'cause a Lander wearing the garb of an imperial noble is as rare as a dog using gréc (GREH, chopsticks).

"But you're really getting somewhere, buddy boy. For a Lander, that is."

"I guess," Jinto admitted.

Durin had a question for him. "Hey, I've only ever seen them on holovision — are Abhs really that attractive?"

Jinto cocked his head. "Couldn't tell ya." "I myself haven't ever seen an Abh in the flesh."

"But didn't you attend an Abh school?"

"Wha—?" Jinto realized that his friend had been under a misconception. "Wow, I barely ever talked about my school life, did I? So get this: There isn't a single Abh at the Abh Linguistic and Cultural Institute I went to. It's all about educating candidates for naturalization as imperial citizens, and there are a lot of former imperial citizens among the faculty. The founders and principal went out there, and then came back. In other words, they're soss (SOHS, territorial citizens) of the Countdom of Vorlash that were formerly imperial citizens. Mind you, it's not as though the Empire and the Countdom of Vorlash are linked in some special way; in the end, it's a private school under the jurisdiction of the Vorlash territorial government's Ministry of Education."

"I see. I took it for granted that it was an imperial academy."

"You think Abhs would throw any of their coin at a surface school?"

"When you put it that way, I guess not." Durin angled his head to the side in puzzlement. "But then, why did you come to Delktu? Shouldn't they have you taken you to an Abh school right off the bat? It's not like learning Delktunian's gonna do you much good, right?"

"Abhs don't go to elementary school. I'd have had to enroll in an institute of higher education, as a kid who was neither a prodigy nor understood any Baronh."

"For real? Then how do Abhs learn to read and write?"

"Their parents teach them."

Jinto recounted secondhand the info he'd learned in school. Abh society was aristocratic in nature, and so much weight was placed on each family's ghédairh (JEDERR, family traditions). In order to pass on those family traditions, parents needed to personally provide their children with an education. Apparently, the Abh thought it outrageous to allow children, whose personalities were not yet sufficiently concrete, to spend a significant amount of time under a stranger.

During their children's infancies, Abhs gave the task of educating them their undivided attention. Nobles with territories hired tosairh (TOHSEHRR , local magistrates), and even gentry took leaves of absence from their work duties, all in the effort to make their heirs more fit for the task.

Moreover, to transmit knowledge that the parent themselves had forgotten, they had onoüaréïréc (OHNOWAHRE'EEREH, mechanical teachers), as well as trips to camp for imparting group-living experiences.

"If you think about it the way they do, I've received a really warped education," said Jinto. "My father is the Count of Hyde, but there's no way he can be there to teach me the Abh way, so he thought at the very least he could have me learn Baronh and all the common knowledge stuff. That's why he dropped me at the nearest school for imperial citizenship aspirants."

"And so it's been seven years since then," Durin chuckled. "I thought you were smart, but it turns out you're not that brainy."

"I had to study and pick up material that was age-appropriate, so it took me all of that first half-year or so and a ton of sweat to learn Delktunian. For one, most of the students there were Delktunians."

"'Course they were. The only folks who'd study abroad on a territory-country out on the outskirts like Vorlash are country yokels."

"You oughta say stuff like that only after I've returned home. Not even Delktu's most amazing architecture can hold a candle to Martinh's hybrid-functionality structures," said Jinto in defense of his home.

"Not even this orbital tower?" asked Durin. He was so unfazed it was obnoxious.

Durin had hit a sore spot. As the latest news had it, there still weren't even any prospects for the construction of an orbital tower on Martinh due to anti-Abh sentiment, despite the fact that every other inhabited planet within the Empire had one. To ride a spaceship there, one still had to rely on dangerous and costly traffic vessels. Even so, it seemed there were almost no candidates for space travel.

"C'mon, it's not impressive, it's just stupidly huge," said Jinto, straining to come up with a comeback.

"Sure." Durin didn't rebut. He leaned his right elbow against the back of his seat. "Hey, that old lady's staring at you again."

"Must be this dumb hair." Jinto combed up his hair. He was fed up.

Abhs kept their hair within tones of blue. However, "tones of blue" was an oversimplification; in reality, the colors they deemed appropriate for hair varied within the range of green to purple, to say nothing of all the different shades thereof. That said, brown hair was out of the question.

"You should've gotten it dyed. Should be easy enough."

"Nah, though I did think about it..."

"Why not, then?"

"For starters, I was afraid I'd sort of delude myself into thinking I was a real Abh. I technically am legally, but genetically I'm a Lander."

"'For starters'? So, there's more where that came from," pressed Durin.

"Yeah, though I guess the only other reason is I'm stubborn. I may've stumbled into being an imperial noble by some cosmic mistake, but I don't want people thinking I'm pleased about it."

"Gotcha." Durin leaned over the table, his expression unusually serious. "You know, about what you were saying before... if you wanna call it quits on the noble thing, then I'd stand by you, no problem. This is your last chance, isn't it?"

"It's not my last chance," said Jinto. "I can withdraw from the aristocracy at any time."

"Why not do it now, then? Is it 'cause they'll stop sending you your allowance?"

"That's one reason."

"I can look after you; just gotta get you a job, that's all."

Jinto was shocked. "But you're still in school!"

"Yeah, but even kids in school've got their contacts. I know a manager who appreciates the position of low-income students. I won't beat around the bush; he's my uncle. Besides, you're smart — you could get a government scholarship."

"It's all right. Thank you," said Jinto. "I want to see the world of the Abh with my own eyes. I want to see how the people who invade and reign over us live their lives."

"Guess that could be fine, too." Durin shook his head, as if to call him eccentric in his curiosity.

"Besides," Jinto continued, "You're the only one who came to see me off."

"That's... uhh..." His friend had suddenly turned rather inarticulate.

"All the kids who hung out with me, were chums with me, back when I was just 'Lin Jinto'... they all flew off the minute they found out that I'd omitted the bit between my family name and my given name." You're the only one who forgave me for misrepresenting my identity. If I'm to ever live as a territorial citizen, I'd want to live right here on Delktu. But that requires giving things time to cool down."

"It was a great opportunity to find out who your real friends are." He smiled a weak smile. A smile that didn't suit his typical self.

"It really was," Jinto agreed gratefully. "If and when I come back, I might come to you for guidance."

"You got it. Leave it all to me." Durin puffed his chest out in pride. "When I'm out of school, I plan to form a business. And I'm gonna work you to the bone when you're back here as a low-grade employee of mine. I'll even use you in an ad while I'm at it. I can see it now: 'Our company is staffing a former imperial noble!'"

"However will I thank you?"

Durin glanced at the giant clock hanging on the ceiling and said "Uh-oh, has it really gotten this late already? Shouldn't you already be boarding? Which ship you taking?"

"The imperial üicreurh (WEEKREURR, warship)."

"Wha?"

"New students of the military academy have the right to hitch a ride on an imperial war-vessel. At first, I wrestled over the decision, but then I thought I might as well check out what it's like aboard a warship, since I'm gonna be a starpilot and all. So, I chose to exercise my right."

"Hold up, does that mean a warship's gonna dock at this spaceport?"

"Beats me, man. Someone's scheduled to come pick me up at 18 o'clock. And I'm here with the proper attire." Jinto pointed as his long robe. "Easier to spot this way, they said. Kind of a facile idea for a race capable of prolonged interstellar navigation, huh?"

"Wait, so an Abh soldier's gonna be coming?"

"Yeah; not sure if they'll be Abh, though. A Star Forces bausnall (BOHSNAHL, soldier) will be here soon, in any case."

"Ah. In that case, I oughta retreat now."

"Huh? How come?" said Jinto with some alarm. "Don't you wanna drink in the sight of me getting hauled off by 'em?"

"I'll pass." Durin rose from his chair. "The sheer patheticness'd make me spill tears of pity for sure."

"That's rich, coming outta Delktu's most ruthless scoundrel," Jinto replied as he, too, rose to his feet.

"Stop flattering me, you're making me blush!" Durin extended his hand.

Jinto took it in both hands.

"What's your formal name again?" asked Durin.

"Linn ssynec-Rocr Ïarlucec Dreur Haïder Ghintec (LEEN SYOON ROHK YARLOOK DRYOOR HAEEDEHR JEENT, Noble Prince of the Countdom of Hyde Jinto Lin, descended of Rock). I think."

Durin goggled at him. "Whaddya mean, 'I think'? It's your name!"

"I'm not used to it. It feels like somebody else's name."

"All right then. From now on you're 'Lin COUGH Jinto.' And you'd better remember my name. 'Ku Durin.' Thing of glory, isn't it? It's definitely loads easier to remember than 'Lin Whosawhat Jinto.'"

"Dude. Like I could ever forget you. And you can drop the 'Whosawhat.' Just don't forget the name 'Lin Jinto.'"

"You can count on me, Linn ssynec-Rocr Ïarlucec Dreur Haïder Ghintec." Durin's face curled up in a grin, as though boastful of his powerful memory.

Jinto returned the smile and let go of Durin's hand.

"See ya. Break a leg out there."

"You, too, man. Make sure you grow your company big enough so that I don't have to worry about searching for work no matter when I return."

"I told you, bro, you can count on me." Durin spun on his heels.

Jinto watched him disappear down the elevator-tube, but he never looked back.

When he made to sit back down, the middle-aged woman from before came back into view. But she wasn't looking his way. Those blunt eyes were trained in the opposite direction.

Jinto's own eyes pivoted in that direction, as though drawn by a hook.

Someone slender with a skintight black jumpsuit and scarlet üébh (WEV, belt) caught his eye. They made a beeline towards him, drawing even more attention than when Jinto first appeared.

Black and red — the sairhinec (SERREEN, military uniform) of the Imperial Star Forces.