Dinner With Family

by Hiroyuki Morioka

  “Now there’s the Durin I know.”

  “I just knew we could come to understand each other.”

  “All right, I’ll send you the details and the meetup time in a bit.”

  “Don’t bring a whole bunch of servants with you. My mom’s healthy as an ox, and in her will she states we’ve always got to feed our guests before letting them go home. And our dining room only fits five.”

  “All right, all right. I won’t go overboard, I promise.”

  “Catch you later then. I look forward to the day we can discuss plans for our Harem Construction Project.”

  With that, the line dropped. Jint hoped against hope the Royal Princess didn’t catch Durin’s parting words.

  “Right, so, I’ll be stepping out to meet an old friend of mine,” he explained hurriedly.

  “Okay. I’ll pilot,” said Lafier.

  “Huh?”

  “If you’re headed to the Spaceport, then we ought to borrow a smallcraft or some other ship, which I’ll pilot for you,” she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Loath as I am to trouble you so, Fïac Lartnér, I thank you.” Using his wristgear, Jint pulled up info on how to access the landworld below. “Looks like there are regular flights, though. An intrasystem ship makes a trip between the Manor and the Spaceport once every day, so I’ll just take that ship.”

  “Would my company be a nuisance?”

  “Don’t be silly. If you want to come with, I’d be delighted.”

  That was no lie, either. Jint had always wanted to show her the landworld. She’s only ever touched down onto one twice, and both times it was a world Jint was unfamiliar with, so he hadn’t been able to play the guide. Not that they’d had any time for leisurely sightseeing anyway.

  Delktu, on the other hand, was his second home. He wanted to see the scenery she could never witness in the Abh world reflected in those jet-black eyes of hers. Then maybe, just maybe, she’d grow to understand him on a deeper level. Jint had gotten a good taste of the wonders of the Abh world. Now, it was Lafier’s turn to marvel at the natural features of a landworld.

  Sadly, Yestesh’s warning was stuck in his head. And even if Yestesh hadn’t warned him, deep down he knew that bringing a royal princess down to the surface was out of the question. He had to ensure her safety, and he had to be subtle about it.

  “Then it’s settled,” said Lafier, with no way of knowing Jint’s inner conflict.

  How did she get this unconcerned about her own safety, anyway?

  “Right. But you did listen in on our conversation, didn’t you?”

  “Yep. Starting partway through.”

  “Then you know we’re going to have to dress you in Delktunian fashion.”

  “What’s Delktunian fashion like?” she asked, furrowing her brow. She was no doubt recalling the garb she’d been forced to wear in Clasbure.

  “It’s not that different from Abh wear,” Jint explained. “Only, it’s separated into top and bottom halves. Also, Delktunians bare their legs from the knees down.”

  “Bare legs?” Lafier’s brow furrowed even more.

  “There’s diversity in the colors and patterns, and there’s strictly male and female clothes. It’s somewhat hard for outsiders to grasp, but I think that’ll resolve itself, since trends aren’t that big of a thing in Delktu. It’s very conservative. The fashion probably hasn’t changed much from when I lived there.”

  “They really don’t wear anything from the knees down?”

  “Yeah. Well, apart from shoes and socks. Those they wear.”

  “I can’t believe they think nothing of that.”

  The Abh didn’t typically expose any skin apart from the hands and head, even during childhood. In a sense, they might just be the most modest race in the galaxy.

  “It’s not embarrassing for them. Everybody dresses the same way. Besides, it fits the climate. I happen to like it a lot. Oh, shoot, we need to dye your hair, too.”

  Lafier moaned.

  “Can’t forget Que Durin’s mom’s food, either.”

  “Is it hard to stomach?”

  “Not to me. I’m looking forward to it. But it is Delktu cuisine. They use dairy products and spices galore. I don’t think it’d suit your palate.”

  “I see...” Lafier’s tone grew uncharacteristically deflated.

  “The whole planet’s under the impression that the more butter they use, the better. And being guests from far away, and Durin’s mother knows her manners, you can be sure she’ll whip up for you what, in her eyes, is the perfect meal. Oh, maybe you should try some Billis scallions while we’re down there.”

  “Billis scallions?”

  “They’re an endemic vegetable, and a Delktu specialty. It can be nice if you have some as a little spice, but for whatever reason Delktunians use the things like they were just tomatoes or something. If I recall correctly, the first time I tried Billis scallion broth, my mouth was burning for three whole days. And trust me, I drank plenty of water.”

  “And I’d have to eat some?”

  “If you visit Que Durin’s house, yeah.”

  “You don’t actually want to take me, do you.”

  “I’m just giving you fair warning.”

  “You lie,” she declared.

  “I swear it’s all true. You can see for yourself. Just search for info on Delktunian fashion and cuisine.”

  “I’m not doubting you about that.”

  “Then what...?”

  “I don’t care for that paternalistic expression on your face.”

  “I’m making a paternalistic expression?” Jint stroked his face.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Look, I’m worried for your safety, all right?” he confessed. “This landworld was under enemy control until very recently. If I take Her Highness the Royal Princess with me to a place like that without any guards, His Highness the King of Clybh’s going to wring my neck.”

  “My father will do no such thing,” she snapped, glaring.

  “Fine, maybe not, but that’s just a figure of speech... You get what I’m trying to say...”

  Lafier rose to her feet and drew closer.

  Jint, too, got to his feet. “I have the right to worry about you, don’t I?”

  “You do,” said Lafier. “So don’t hide the truth. I’m happy you’re concerned for me, but I don’t like being deceived — even if it comes from a good place.”

  “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to offend you...”

  “I’m more offended that you thought that puerile lie would be enough to fool me.”

  “Guess you’ve got me there,” he said, scratching his cheek.

  “Besides, I’m concerned for you, too.”

  “And that makes me happy. But in my case, you really needn’t be.”

  “Really? Even after you’ve been abducted and imprisoned not once, but twice?”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. But it’ll be all right. This isn’t Lohbnahss II, and it’s not the Febdash Barony, either. This is the planet I grew up on. My home. I wasn’t born here, but it’s my home, nonetheless. I’ve even got a friend here. To tell you the truth, I’d love to show you around my home planet. But...”

  “Okay. I believe you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be going it alone this time, but once we know for sure it’s safe, we’ll go together. And not just to Delktu. To Martinh, too.”

  “Sure.” Lafier nodded.

  “I’m glad you understand,” he said, clasping her shoulders. “I apologize for trying to trick you. I just want to get a lay of the situation for the time being.”

  “You’d best come back in one piece.”

  “I will. Promise.”

  “By the way, Jint,” Lafier whispered sweetly in his ear.

  “What?” he said, with a dreamy look on his face.

  “I want to hear about that little ‘Harem Construction Project’ of you two. Best speak the whole truth and nothing but the trut
h; I don’t like being deceived.”

  Mei City, the capital of Delktu, had a population of only about one million, yet its urban area was vast. Delktunians didn’t like multi-family dwellings, perhaps due to some universally shared psychological trauma.

  Endless lines of two-story buildings stood along the roads that stretched like a giant mesh. There was no city center. It was the same scenery at any given point. There were government offices, given that it was the capital, but they were to be found not in one area, but sprinkled all over the map. Not only that, but even the government buildings were only two stories tall (albeit bigger than most general residences).

  Jint’s self-driving hovercar stopped in front of a certain house. The second he stepped out, the distinctive aroma of Delktu cuisine hit his nostrils.

  “Hey! Lynn Jint!” shouted Durin, rushing out to meet him.

  “Long time no see,” said Jint, raising a hand in greeting.

  “Never thought I’d ever see you with your feet on the surface again,” said Durin, slapping him on the shoulder before peering behind him. “Where are your vassals?”

  “You’re the one who told me not to go overboard.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t remember telling you to come by yourself, either. You may wanna brace yourself, ’cause I told my mom a bunch of guests were coming, so she prepared heaps.”

  “Yeesh, my bad.”

  “Don’t even worry, man. Her cooking can feed an army, and the more she makes, the better it is. And I’ll be calling over some old pals to join us later. They’re our buddies from the West Bookick Minchiu Team.” Durin’s eyes took on a serious sheen. “Some of the gang want to apologize to you for how they treated you.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for, really,” said Jint, shaking his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, though. I want to see the gang, too.”

  “Sweet. But first, we gotta talk business, the two of us.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get the boring business stuff over with first. Not least ’cause... well, you know how it is. Once everybody’s here, talking business will get downright impossible.”

  “And I take it there’ll be alcohol, which won’t exactly help.”

  “You crazy? Of course there’ll be alcohol. You remember Meerno Distle? Our old shortstop pitcher. Back when you were around, he used to be our cute little short pint, but now he’s got quite the frame, and he’s a bottomless pit for booze. Once I let him stay over for three days, and the crime prevention police came a-knocking for him. He’d bought so much hooch they suspected him of running an unlicensed bar.”

  “That’s something else.”

  “Oh, right, business before pleasure. Forgot.” Durin led Jint by the shoulder to the threshold. “C’mon, let’s go inside. Sorry it ain’t a mansion fit for a noble, but it’ll have to do.”

  After briefly greeting Durin’s mother, Jint settled into the drawing room, where four lounge chairs were situated in the Delktunian style. Jint was seated in one of them.

  “What’re you putting on airs for?” said Durin, who was sprawled on his chair, eyes reproving. “This is Delktu. Do as we do. You can play at being an Abh noble if you like, but I don’t know the etiquette for an Abh noble. All I know is how to receive a friend, the Delktu way.

  “If you’re sure it’s all right...” Jint smiled, and lay himself down.

  Delktunians only ever sat up straight on a lounge chair when there were more people than seats.

  “So, are you serious about hiring me?”

  “Hire, sure, but at the end of the day I’d just like you to help me out.”

  “Is the pay worth the effort?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  “Then I’ll hear you out.”

  “You asked where my servants are, earlier.”

  “Right. Should I not have asked?”

  “No, that’s not it... It’s just... I don’t have any.”

  “I know that. I’ve got eyes, you know. Unless you created invisible people with Abh genetic modification?”

  “I think that would be beyond us. Not to mention pointless.”

  “Oh?” said Durin, with a perverted smile. “I can think of a use or two.”

  “In any case, what I’m trying to tell you is that I haven’t brought any vassals with me. As in, to this landworld — or to the Vorlash Countdom as a whole. I do have some vassals to my name, but only a few. Right now they’re recruiting at the imperial capital, so I’ll be gaining a few more soon. For the time being, we mainly need engineers. As for administrative vassals, I haven’t got a single one, strictly speaking.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “You knew?” said Jint, blinking.

  “Well, to be honest, the possibility just crossed my mind. Why’d you hide it, though?”

  “I never hid it. I was going to tell you, but you changed the subject,” Jint pointed out. “Plus, I just thought there was no need to go into it beforehand, since we were gonna be meeting in private anyway.”

  “So in other words, all you’ve got for vassals right now is engineers.”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s funny. When I think ‘vassals,’ I think number crunchers and negotiators who go over all the fiddly little things.”

  “Well, I want you assisting me with the paper pushing, or maybe external affairs. Something like that.”

  “Long story short, you’re telling me to become your one and only vassal, huh.”

  “Nah, man, I’m thinking about how to assemble more. Actually, that’s another area I want you to help me out with.”

  “Wait a sec. You’re forgetting something important,” said Durin. “I don’t speak Baronh. Unlike you, I never did any language ed.”

  “Oh, that’s not a big deal. You can just use a translation device, in the short term. And if you cram for a month or so, you can speak on my level,” Jint assured him. Stemming from the Empire’s tradition of taking in landworlders as NCCs or servant vassals, Baronh language education methods had reached an extremely high level of sophistication.

  “You say that, but ain’t Baronh way harder than Ricparl?”

  “You know Ricparl?” said Jint, surprised. Then he remembered that the planet had been under UH control until quite recently. “Probably should’ve guessed, huh.”

  “I know it, but that doesn’t mean I can speak it. They told us we were in an ‘interim grace period’ or whatever, so we were allowed to speak Delktunian until the last person who couldn’t speak Ricparl kicked the bucket. So I didn’t go crazy mastering the language. I dipped my toe and tried speaking a little, but it was bad. It’s just not my forte. To me, anybody who can speak two or three languages is practically a sorcerer. Can you blame me? We don’t learn those languages in school.”

  “Really?”

  “What, you didn’t know? We figure one language, our own, is more than enough. The weirdos who wanna learn a different language go to specialized schools. Like the Abh school you went to.”

  “I see. But I’m telling you, it’s easy. You’ve just gotta give it a shot.”

  “I’m sure that’s how it looks to you. But I just can’t work it out. Delktunian’s got hold of my tongue, and it’s not letting go. And my ears can’t discern anything besides Delktunian. I learned that when I tried comprehending Ricparl.”

  “But you only dipped your toe. You didn’t try learning it for real.”

  “Argh!” Durin tore at his hair. “You could stand to let me flex a little.”

  “I’ve never seen you do anything but.”

  “That right? Well, take a good look, because I’m about to lose face for you. I did try learning it for real. I didn’t actually just dip a toe. I mean, who wants to be a second-class citizen?”

  “‘Second-class citizen’? What’s that?”

  “They don’t teach kids in Abh school? In the UH, there’s ‘star system citizens’ and ‘UH citizens.’”

  “Oh, that I know,” nodded Jint. The starpil
ots of the Star Forces were briefed on the enemy’s political systems. In a world where even information could only be transported through planar space, it was difficult to contact people outside one’s star system. In vast nations like the Abh Empire and the United Humankind, a simple letter exchange could often take months. Consequently, residents of the same superstate but of different star systems seldom felt a sense of unity. The average person could only feel a genuine sense of solidarity with the other residents of their own system. And for a superstate like the UH, the impossibility of promoting a sense of belonging to the interstellar power ruling over them was a problem.

  The Abh had no desire or political will whatsoever to conquer this “problem” on their end. In fact, they didn’t consider it a problem to begin with. The Empire didn’t want or expect the residents of its landworlds (i.e., landworld citizens) to be conscious of their status as imperial subjects, let alone feel any affection or loyalty toward their rarefied rulers.

  The UH, on the other hand, pushed its constituent star systems to see themselves as members of the interstellar union. In order to foster a sense of unity, they advocated for interpersonal exchange, and sought to homogenize the planets’ respective cultures (starting with the language). Yet the reality was far from that ideal. The UH had incorporated formerly independent systems, and the attempts at homogenization were insufficient. Furthermore, even though travel to other star systems was encouraged, ordinary people could only manage interstellar travel once in a lifetime, if that, thanks to cost and time restraints. As such, even in the UH, the vast majority of people couldn’t regard the politics of the superstate as their concern. That was why the UH restricted citizen’s qualifications to participate in politics. Only “UH citizens” were granted the right to vote and run for office, among various other privileges. Star system citizens could only participate in star system politics.

  Given all that, it made sense that Durin viewed star system citizens as second-class citizens. Jint didn’t know the exact requirements for becoming a UH citizen, but speaking Ricparl had to be a minimum requirement.

  “For argument’s sake, let’s assume I didn’t put in enough effort.”