Capítulo 4: Chapter 3: The Frymec Négr (FRYOOM NEG, Daughter of Love)
"So, what's frocragh (FROHKRAHZH, spatiosensory perception) feel like?" Jinto asked Lafier, sitting beside her in the assistant steerer's chair.
"That's difficult to explain." Lafier had just extended her circlet's access-cable and plugged it into her seat's backrest.
"Is it true you know about everything around the spaceship using that?"
"Yes. Like this, I can sense what the ship senses." Her eyes took on a questioning sheen. "Is frocragh that rare?"
"It's rare all right," Jinto replied with a shrug. "This is the first time I've ever met someone with it."
Frocragh was a sense unique to the Abh. Abhs each bore a froch (FROHSH, spatiosensory organ) on their foreheads. These froch were typically obscured by their circlets, and so Landers rarely got a chance to see them even in videos, let alone in real life. And Jinto was no exception.
The part of the circlet that touched the froch spatiosensory organ contained approximately 100 million flickering light-emitters that picked up information from the ship's own suite of sensors and beamed it to the area of the frontal lobe pertaining to navigation, or the rilbidoc (REELBEEDOH). That area of the brain was also unique to the Abh.
When connected to a ship, the circlet became a personal radar, continuously probing the space around the user. To the Abh, the circlets weren't just indicators of family pedigree, but indispensable tools throughout their entire lives.
Jinto realized he'd misconstrued something. When they'd first come face to face, he'd thought that she's tried to stomp off by herself without confirming beforehand whether he'd actually follow her. But Lafier had, in fact, been able to sense him behind her through her froch.
"I see..." Yet Lafier was still nonplussed as to how to answer his question. "But there's just no way I can explain what it's like. I can't imagine what it's like to live without any sense of frocragh."
"No, that makes sense. So, are you doing orbital calculations?"
"Orbital calculations?" Lafier looked at him blankly. "No, I'm not."
"Then you must just be receiving raw numbers, huh." He was slightly disappointed; he'd overestimated this "rilbidoc" area of the Abh brain.
"I'm not receiving any numbers, either."
"But then, how are you determining the ship's trajectory?"
"I just am. Think of it as intuition."
"Intuition? As in, your gut!?"
"Right," she replied, nodding matter-of-factly. "When you throw something, you aim using your intuition, don't you? It's like that. I determine the optimal trajectory and duration of propulsion instinctively, calculating all of it unconsciously. Is there something strange about that?"
"I find it positively uncanny. I mean, there have gotta be times when your aim's off the mark."
"Children may miss, on occasion. Be at ease."
"I see..." But that didn't give him much peace of mind.
Jinto scanned the chicrh saidér (SHEERR SEDEHR, steering room). I was expecting the steering room of a spaceship to be more over-the-top. The steering room was spherical in shape. Only the floor was flat. With just a screen in front of each of the two adjustable seats, the room lacked the steering apparatuses and meters and instruments he'd imagined. It was just a smooth, opal-colored wall.
Behind the seats hung the grac monger (GRAH MOHNGAR, the ship's banner), of the patrol ship Goslauth. Its design featured a lauth (LOHTH, winged dragon). The upper left arm of Lafier's military uniform also featured the same symbol.
The steering apparatus was attached to the seat. The adjustable seat had an armrest on its right side, upon which lay a number of poch (POHSH, controls). Naturally, those controls couldn't be enough to carry out the complex operations necessary to pilot a spaceship. That must be the guhaicec (GOOHEK), thought Jinto.
Jinto fixed his eyes on the guhaicec, the gauntlet-looking device hanging on the left of the adjustable chair. It looked long enough to cover the arm up the elbow, with an opening for the compuwatch's display and controls. It was made of black synthetic leather, but it sported many metal parts as well. The fingers, especially, were completely covered in metal.
It was said that Abhs guided their spaceships through the use of these control gloves, as well as through voice command. The buttons on the armrest were strictly for auxiliary, backup purposes. Jinto had learned of the control glove at the Abh Linguistic and Cultural Institute on Delktu, but he still couldn't believe a spaceship could be maneuvered through the simple movement of the pilot's fingers.
"Hey." Jinto had a question for Lafier, who had equipped the control glove. "Do you ever accidentally pick something up in your left hand while wearing that glove?"
"I forget all about my left hand while flying the ship," she said.
"But I can't help thinking moving your fingers is a silly way to pilot."
"Why?" Lafier cocked her head in puzzlement. "Is there a better way?"
"I think so. When Landers pilot intrasystem spaceships, it's more... well..." He was about to say, "more self-respecting," but he stopped mid-sentence. Best choose his words carefully. "It's just, I heard those ships come attached with maneuvering gear laid out according to different ideas."
"That may be, but this method is superior." The apprentice starpilot pointed to her left arm.
"But..." Jinto persisted. "It must be hard to remember how you're supposed to be moving your fingers. Do you not forget from time to time?"
"Do you spend time thinking about the movements of your muscles when you walk?"
"No."
"You aren't normally consciously aware of how you're walking."
"No, can't say I am."
"Indeed not. And likewise for me when I fly a ship. I need only think of what I wish the ship to do.
Then my fingers move automatically. Thinking about it would only lead to hesitation as to how to move them. It would be counter-productive."
"I see. It's the fruit of your training." Jinto was impressed.
"I've been doing this since I was a child. It goes beyond mere training."
"That so?" Jinto was wracked by an inferiority complex, but at the same time, he was overjoyed at how correct he'd been not to ask her if there were any other steerers aboard.
"Shall we depart?" asked Lafier.
"Ah, yeah, of course. Whenever you're ready."
The screens shined bright, and the curvy glyphs of Baronh, called "Ath" (AHTH), started flowing from bottom to top.
"Can you read that? It's shooting so fast." Jinto was peering at his own display monitor. The green glyphs were dashing across the screen at such absurd speeds he could only make out a mass of flickering. He couldn't read any of it at all. He couldn't necessarily say it was because he just wasn't accustomed to it.
"I can't read it." Lafier took her eyes off the screen, quick to acknowledge that fact.
"All right then," said Jinto, pointing to the screen, "what's this for?"
"Computing crystals are checking over the ship. If there's anything wrong, it'll stay on screen as red text."
"Then there's no reason for all that other info to run across the screen, surely."
"Some people agree with you," Lafier acknowledged. "I don't think it's particularly bothersome either way. And I like the 'vibe' it gives."
"Can't argue with that." At last, the little green glyphs cleared off the screen, to be replaced by a big flashing "gosno" ("nothing abnormal detected").
"There you go, it's run its course."
"Seems simple enough."
"Yes. It's thanks to the crystals doing our work for us."
"There must be times the machines get things wrong."
"But humans make mistakes, too," Lafier said to reassure him.
"Well, that makes me feel relieved."
"You are quite the worrier, aren't you? Our destination is right there. Do you think we could stand to rely on machines that break that easily?"
"Well, when you put it that way," he said prudently. "But how far is it from here to there?"
"A meaningless question. Our destination is also in motion. In terms of altitude difference, we're about 5 sedagh (SEDAHZH) apart."
The Abh inherited Earth's CGS system of units, with its centimeters, grams and seconds, though it seemed they'd felt a great need to turn the words into their own native vocabulary. 5 sedagh were exactly equivalent to 5,000 kilometers.
From here to there — from the spaceport to the patrol ship — stretched at least 5,000 kilometers of empty space.
To the Kin of the Stars, that distance wouldn't even be a stroll's worth, thought Jinto. It wouldn't kill them to be a little more humble with regard to the universe.
With a flex of her left hand's fingers, the apprentice bade the "gosno" on screen disappear. Now the screen displayed the bust of a spaceport crew member.
"Belyséc (BELYOOSEH, Flight Control)," hailed Lafier.
"Delktu 1st Planetary Spaceship Flight Control Center," the controller replied.
"This is the patrol ship Goslauth's docking vessel. Our Paunoüass (POHNOWAHSS, Ship Command) ftalia bausnall (FTAHLEEA BOHSNAHL, soldier number-code) is 01-00-0937684. Please depressurize Military Beth (pier) 2."
"Roger that, Goslauth docking vessel. I'll depressurize right away." Depressurized though it may be, it was impossible to tell what it was like outside from within the steering room.
"Wait, do you not know what it's like outside?" asked Jinto. He wanted to have her pull up video of the outside on the screen. It was his second-ever time on a small ship, but he didn't really remember his first time, so it might as well have been his first time. He felt a little anxious, but he was also brimming with curiosity.
"You want to see?"
"Yeah. I don't have frocragh."
"I see." A shadow of sympathy flashed over Lafier's face. "All right."
Apart from the screens and the ship's banner, the surrounding wall grew transparent. Of course, it hadn't actually started letting light through. It was processing the footage of the outside and providing stereoscopic imagery.
This "depressurization" proved a massive disappointment. The whole compartment must have been thoroughly clean; no motes of dust hovered in the air. He understood that the air was getting thinner on an intellectual level, but nothing he was seeing lent that appearance.
After about a minute, Flight Control apprised them that depressurization was complete.
"Please unlock Military Beth 2's sohyuth (SO'HYOOTH, lock gate)," Lafier requested.
"Roger that, Goslauth docking vessel."
Now this was a sight to see. The right and left sides of the wall before them opened up. What lay beyond was a sea of stars.
"Total aperture confirmed. Requesting permission to leave port."
"Permission granted, Goslauth docking vessel. Do you want an electromagnetic push?"
"No need. I'll exit through cold propulsion," she said. "You'd probably hide your eyes during an EM push," she teased Jinto.
Yeah, I probably would, thought Jinto.
"Roger, Goslauth docking vessel. We hope you return to your warship safely. Delktu 1st Planetary Spaceship Flight Control Center, over and out."
"You have my thanks. Goslauth docking vessel, over and out." When the belységac (BELYOOSEGA, Flight Control officer) disappeared from the screen, Lafier's left hand took to dancing once again. The vessel shuddered, and then rose up.
Jinto was on tenterhooks, fearing a collision with the ceiling. Lafier concentrated on her frocragh spatial awareness, going as far as closing her eyes, which was more than enough to get Jinto trembling.
Needless to say, his fears were groundless. With exquisite equilibrium, the vessel soared both up and forward, and a mere instant before it would have hit the ceiling, crossed over into the starry fathoms. It felt as though his body was floating up along with it.
They'd broken free of the sphere of üameloth (WAHMLOHTH, gravitational control) exerted by the orbital tower. Thanks to his apymh (AHPYOOF, seatbelt), he didn't actually start levitating.
The steerer's seat rotated 90 degrees. He could see the orbital tower jutting perpendicular to his feet, and Delktu's surface sprawled ahead of him.
"You're incredible." Jinto's praises were heartfelt.
"What do you mean?"
"As in, you're an amazingly practiced hand at this."
"Don't mock me," Lafier huffed. "Among the Abh, even children can fly a ship like this."
"Sure, right, I mean, yeah, of course." His inferiority complex bubbled back to the fore. "But you're really young, though. Sorry, I know it's rude to ask a girl her age..."
"You're trying to tell me I'm childish, aren't you?" If looks could kill...
"Don't be crazy." Is there anything in all of space that's easier than raising her hackles? thought Jinto. "I'm trying to say that, like, it's hard to tell how old you people are, so I just wanted to confirm my hunch..."
"I see." The girl apprentice's mood had swung right back around. "You inferred correctly. I just turned 16 this year. I am really young." Which makes her a year younger than me.
"But what would be rude about asking?" said Lafier.
"Huh?"
"You said that asking a girl her age would be rude. But why would that be the case?"
Jinto batted his eyes. Now that she mentioned it... why was it rude? "It's probably because ladies want to be seen as young. At least, the ladies of Delktu and Martinh do."
"Intriguing. Why is that?"
"Couldn't tell you. I'm no expert on female psychology, so try asking a Lander girl." He saw Lafier wasn't exactly satisfied by this response, so he attempted to change the subject. "Are apprentice starpilots all as young as you are?"
"No," Lafier answered pridefully. That made her come across as all the younger. "The exam for the military academy isn't that difficult. It's so easy that if you don't pass it at 18, you ought to give up on functioning in respectable society. However, there are few who win admittance at age 13. Of this I can be a little proud, don't you agree?"
"Yeah." Jinto felt a childish compulsion to measure up against her. "I've got things to be proud of, too. I had to learn two different foreign languages at the same time, but I still got accepted to a quartermasters' academy at 17."
"Yes, that is amazing," said Lafier, genuinely impressed.
Suddenly, a BREEE noise blared through the cabin. "What was that!?" It sounded to him like an alarm.
"We've entered a sector where we can accelerate." Lafier kept manipulating her control glove as though it were nothing.
"Ah." Jinto pushed down his embarrassment. "How long will it take?"
"I'm afraid this ship isn't equipped with anything nifty like a üameriac (WAHMREEA, gravity control system), so it depends on what level of acceleration you can withstand."
"I grew up on a planet's surface," bragged Jinto. An Abh's daimon (DEHMOHN, standard gravity level) was said to be about half of Delktu's. "If you can withstand it, then so can I."
"I see. In that case, it won't even take seven minutes."
"Wow, that's fairly fast."
"It's not far at all."
"I hear you." He realized he might need to flesh out his sensation of cosmic distances sooner rather than later.
The seats automatically increased in length, becoming something akin to bunks. Because the ship's direction and rate of acceleration could change at a dizzying pace in accordance with the exerted attitude control, it was easy to feel knocked around. That said, that only lasted for a fleeting moment.
"Let's go." The instant Lafier said that, Jinto was pressed against the back of his seat.
"Wha, what is this!?" His chest was ready to burst from the acceleration forces that had far exceeded his expectations.
"Caïmcoth (KAEEMKOHTH, acceleration)," said Lafier nonchalantly. "You aren't going to tell me you didn't know about acceleration, I trust."
"I do! I know about it! But, not this fast..." He was finding it difficult even to move his lips. He could tell by the numbness in his extremities that his blood vessels were being crushed. He could probably endure a minute of this, but seven minutes would be well beyond him. "You, you're fine!?"
"I'm fine. Our ancestors didn't have any gravity control systems, so we built out bodies to be able to work under both high gravity-forces and microgravity. I, too, have inherited those genes. It's all in the skeleton and circulatory system. In other words..."
He was in no mood to listen to an elaborate explanation. "Please, Lafier, shift the acc- acceleration down a little..."
"It'll take longer."
"Would that land us in hot water somehow!?"
"Not particularly. The ship's schedule was compiled to allow for extra time. For veteran navigators, allowing some leeway is practically a requirement. One can never know what's coming, after all."
"Good. I'm begging you..."
"Okay. It can't be helped." She stopped accelerating. "Now I have to change course. Can I accelerate just a little?"
Jinto shook his head. "Yeah, you can go a little faster than that. Just enough so I can bear it a bit more easily than before."
"Mmm." Lafier's fingers flitted in the air.
It began accelerating once again. It was still more severe than the planet Martin's level of gravity, but it was no longer a trial to endure. He could probably even walk around if he wanted.
"How is it now?"
"This is good."
"But it'll take a lot more time now."
"No other choice," replied Jinto. "I'm not in a hurry anyway. What's our gravity level?"
"4 daimon. The standard for when Landers are aboard. For longer journeys, we drop it down to 2 daimon. That's around where the gravity level of most terrestrial worlds is."
"You should have warned me that it'd be too much for a Lander," said Jinto ruefully.
"I thought you had intimated you were made of hardier stuff," said Lafier, making it clear she had no malicious intent.
"Honestly, I should thank you for overestimating me."
"Besides, you aren't a Lander. You're an Abh."
"Well, it's annoying, but I really don't feel like one, since genetically I'm 100% Lander. You must get that." The law could call him an Abh all it wanted, it didn't change his genetics. To raise an extreme example, obtaining legal recognition as a bird would not allow him to take flight.
"Genetics aside," said Lafier, "I think you ought to become Abh in terms of your attitude. An imperial noble wouldn't lose their composure over something like high acceleration."
"I've taken your words of admonishment to heart," he said, chastened. He'd anticipated that he wouldn't be cut out to be an imperial noble, and now that feeling had morphed into a strong conviction. He contemplated having them send him back right now so he could ask Durin for a job.
However, it'd be a bitter pill indeed to tell everyone he'd turned back.
At last, there were several seconds of microgravity and attitude control, and the vessel shifted to decelerating. The planet Delktu, floating above them, had become an orb speckled with white and blue. Jinto was assailed by the illusion he was falling without end.
"Hey," said Jinto. "What's your position in society?"
"Why are you asking me something like that?" Lafier asked back chidingly.
"I, uhh..." Jinto panicked. It seemed that she'd mistaken him as trying to flaunt his own position as a noble. "I was just wondering why someone so young joined the Star Forces, that's all. I thought maybe you were planning to get your duties over with quickly like me. Was it rude of me to ask?"
"It wasn't, but I don't want to talk about it. Until I become a fsœtdorariac (SEHDORAREEA, imperially certified pilot), and as long as I'm wearing this military uniform, I can't wear anything that shows my family lineage."
"So you're saying that within the Star Forces, your social standing doesn't matter?"
"Correct. In the military, this is what means everything." Lafier pointed to the rank insignia on her left arm.
"I understand. It's just, I only wanted to ask you why you wanted to join. Was it out of obligation, or because you wanted to?"
"I am obligated," Lafier acknowledged.
"Ah, I knew it." Military service wasn't imposed on mere gentry. To them, admittance to an academy was a right, not a duty. He took this as confirmation that Lafier must be a young maiden of none other than noble stock. "I thought as much."
"What?"
"Oh, nothing..." he said evasively. He had guessed she might be of noble birth, but since that hunch was based on his impressions of her — namely, that she seemed haughty even when not speaking, to say nothing of when she opened her mouth — he thought it wise to keep mum.
Thankfully, she didn't pursue the matter. "It's not just out of obligation, though."
"Why actually, then?"
"I wanted to come of age as soon as possible."
"Ah, I see." If one received an appointment as a starpilot, they were summarily recognized as an adult. "Was there really any need to hurry past your childhood, though? Living a life of comfort as a kid's pretty sweet, you know."
Lafier chewed it over, and then, at last, settled on a response. "Do you have any secrets regarding your birth?"
"Secrets regarding my birth?" replied a disconcerted Jinto. "No, no secrets. I mean, my mom died when I was little, but apart from that..."
"Your mother? I thought your parent is male. The Count of Hyde, Dreuc Haïder-lonh, is your father, no?"
"That's right, he's my dad. Ah, I understand your confusion now..." Jinto recalled the structure of the Abh family unit.
The Abh did not marry. In Abh society, lovers' couples did sometimes live together. It was not uncommon for these partnerships to last long enough to be quite like a marriage, and on very rare occasions, they even lasted "till death did them part."
However, this was not an institution. It was simply one of many ways to live one's life. To burn with maddening passion, and then for that passion to go up in flames with nary a trace left — this was the typical form of Abh love. It was likely difficult for the Abh, who lived "forever young," to latch onto the ideal of marriage, premised as it was on growing old together.
As such, single parents were commonplace, and there was no concept of two-parent units. This, of course, would make an Abh's one parent either male or female, lending the phrases "Mama's boy (frucec saranr, FROOK SAHRAHN)" and "Daddy's girl (frymec loranr, FRYOOM LOHRAHN)" altogether different meanings. They now meant "a boy with a female parent" and "a girl with a male parent."
"You've heard of 'the institution of marriage,' right?" asked Jinto.
"Yes, I have. Ah, I was being absent-minded. You were raised a Lander, so of course."
"Yep, I'm the product of a marriage. The son of both a father and a mother at the same time."
"I see." Lafier cocked her head. "What is it like to have two parents? When your mother died, were you sad?"
"Well..." Surprised by the bluntness of the question, Jinto nevertheless searched his memories. What met him wasn't the mother he'd only ever seen on holovision, but the face of Lina Clint. "Yeah. Yeah, it was sad."
"Forgive me. It was a foolish thing to ask." Lafier cast down her eyes.
"It's fine, honestly. It happened when I was so young, I don't really remember much, to tell you the truth."
"However," said Lafier with palpable envy, "that means you can't have any secrets regarding your birth."
"Huh? Why's that?"
"If both of your larlinec (LARLEEN, gene donors) were in your house, then how could there be anything hidden about your birth?"
"You've got it wrong." Jinto was stumped as to how to correct Lafier's misunderstanding. "I don't know what it's like on other terrestrial worlds, but on planets like Martinh and Delktu, a child can be born without one or both of the parents wanting it that way. Plus, in the past, there were people who wanted to be parents but couldn't. So that's how there can be some secrecy regarding birth. I'm sure there are more examples of how that can come about, too."
"Such as?" Lafier didn't hide her bewilderment.
"That, you can look into yourself. It can get really complicated. What is all this about 'birth secrets,' anyway? What does it have to do with you joining the military?"
"I do have a 'birth secret.' I had no idea whether I was a frymec négr (daughter of love). You can imagine how ill at ease that made me."
"A 'daughter of love'..." It sounded like some religious term to him. Despite the fact the Abh were areligious, that is. "What's that mean, exactly?"
"You don't know?" Lafier looked startled.
"I'm beginning to realize my education was lacking in certain aspects..." said Jinto, but it smelled of making excuses.
Though it was technically an Abh linguistic and cultural institute, the lessons centered mostly on the Baronh language. As for how they conducted their cultural instruction, they settled on briefly touching upon general manners and the like. There were no lectures on the core tenets of Abh culture.
He'd asked his teachers questions, and hit his books, but he never found anything too concrete. The information circulated by official documents on matters such as political organizations and the law was fine, but any information that looked closely into the daily lives of the Abh was a confusing tangle. Jinto had had no clue which claims he ought to believe.
Half of the blame for that fell on the Abh themselves. It was not as though they deliberately concealed the particulars of their culture, but there was a distinct dearth of enthusiasm to explain any of it to the uninitiated.
All in all, because the teachers had only worked alongside Abhs temporarily, they had done nothing more than look upon their world from the outside. The books had been published by former imperial citizens, not by Abhs. Some authors who had never even left Delktu got what amounted to irresponsible speculation and yellow journalism published as legitimate sources of information in those books.
Abhs hardly ever spoke about themselves to Landers.
"...And that's why there are still some things I still don't get about the way family works in Abh culture. Everybody knows Abhs don't marry, but so how do they have children?" Fearing he might have touched on a sensitive topic, Jinto scanned Lafier's expression.
Lafier seemed quite unfazed. "I see. So you don't know anything about how we're born..."
"Yeah, that is, uhh..." Jinto struggled for words, his face red. Just his luck; he'd somehow stumbled into asking her the age-old question, 'where do babies come from?' He thought he'd grown past needing to ask that particular question. To think he'd end up posing the question to a girl. A girl younger than him, at that. "I know you people don't conceive in the womb..."
"There are some who choose to do so."
"Really? But what about the gene donors, then?"
"The embryo gets taken out temporarily. Usually it's transferred to a ïanh (YAHNYUH, artificial womb), but some women who want an exotic experience have it returned to the womb."
"I see." And so he learned a hidden truth of the Abh. The rumor on Delktu had it that Abh women had no wombs.
"But conception using artificial wombs is the norm, yes."
"Gotcha." Jinto shrugged. "Now you must understand why even if I tried acting like an Abh, it'd be a waste of effort. It's like your entire race has 'birth secrets.' I tried looking into it, but there were so many dodgy, ridiculous accounts. Some said that you make offspring out of your own 'branches,' or that you mix together complete strangers' genes, or that you combine your genes with someone of the same gender, or that you even mate with relatives. Seriously, how do they come up with this stuff...?"
"We do all of those things," Lafier butted in.
"Wha?" Jinto's jaw dropped.
"Some people simply clone themselves, or else edit only a few genes. Some gather the genes of other people. It's up to each individual's free choice."
"For real?" Jinto was flummoxed. "But don't you put a premium on family lineage? From what you just said, I'd be of half a mind to think you ignore blood ties altogether."
"What's held in highest importance in each household is the inheritance of its family traditions, not the inheritance of genes."
"Wait, but—"
"A parent becomes a parent by polishing their child's genes and raising them up."
"Hmm. I understand." After a moment's contemplation, he looked convinced. It may be only natural for the Abh, who practiced gene alteration on an everyday basis, to slight blood relationships.
"That being said, the most common way to have a child is by combining your genes with the genes of someone you love."
"I'm relieved to hear that," said Jinto.
"Of course, there are times when someone loves another of the same sex, or a close relative, or more than one person at a time. I've heard that when people from terrestrial worlds are told this, it agitates them for some reason." Lafier cast Jinto's face an inquisitive look.
"It'd agitate them all right," Jinto assured her. "I'm in a pretty big tizzy myself."
"I find that strange. It's not as though we have a monopoly on genetic engineering."
"I can't speak for others," said Jinto with discretion, "but at least on the terrestrial worlds I know, it seems people wouldn't really think tampering with people's genes is a praiseworthy pastime."
"So it would seem." Lafier suddenly shot Jinto an angry look. "Let me warn you that I'm not dispassionate about it, either. If you give it a moment's thought, you'll come to my realization that this isn't a discussion two people in a sealed space should be having."
"I'm sorry." So the Abh felt that way, too. Jinto did his best to retain his composure.
"In any case, telling someone that you want their genes is the one of the most earnest ways to confess one's love." There was something dreamy in her tone.
"Interesting." It was like the "will you marry me?" of the Abh.
"A child born under those circumstances is called—"
"I know what you're going to say," Jinto interrupted. "She's called a daughter of love, right?"
"Yes. And a boy is called a frucec négr (FROOK NEG)." Their awkward yet fascinating conversation had seemingly come to an end. The tension in Jinto's body released.
"But couldn't you just ask your father?" Then he got a start. "Hold on, your father isn't..."
"Hmm?" Those deep, jet-black eyes pointed his way. "Ah, no, my father is still alive. And at this rate, he'll be hale and healthy for another 200 years. Is that what you were thinking?"
"You got me." It seemed she'd read into his little pause. "Then why haven't you asked him?"
"Do you think it didn't cross my mind?"
"Well, no..."
"My father wouldn't tell me!" she raged. "He was obsessed with the notion that birth secrets lead to the child developing a 'fuller personality'!"
"And there was no way to look it up?"
"Once you become an adult, you can browse your genetic record, and no one can interfere. But until then, you need your parent's permission."
"Aha, so that's it." It finally made sense now. He put the pieces together: She wanted to come of age as quickly as she could in order to discover the origins of her genes.
"I didn't even fully believe the reason he gave for hiding it. I think he perhaps kept birth-secrets solely to wind me up."
"But why?"
"I'll never forget it. When I was a child, I wanted him to tell me that I'm a daughter of love, so I was always badgering him to show me my gene donor. But he just refused to reveal them. Until one day, he finally agreed to bring my gene donor for me to meet. What do you think happened then?"
"Did he not bring them after all?"
"No, he committed a far more insidious act. He tricked me. He held Horia in his arms and said, 'Say hello to one half of your genes'!"
"Who's Horia?"
"Our cat!" she spat bitterly.
Jinto burst out laughing. "Tell me you didn't believe him, Lafier!?"
"It's not impossible." Lafier watched Jinto's mirthful grin with resentment.
"What, really?" The outer corners of Lafier's eyes were high on her head — not at all unlike a cat's eyes. "You people go that far?"
"It's against the law. It would be unethical."
"I'm glad I've found a point of moral agreement with you people."
"You are Abh, too."
"Ah, right, right." Jinto didn't deny it. "But then, wasn't it obvious it wasn't true?"
"I was eight years old. Of course I wouldn't be very interested in legalities."
"You've got me there."
"I cried that whole night. Horia is a nice cat, but I couldn't stand the idea that half of me came from it."
"I totally understand... Okay, maybe not totally, but I understand."
"And the thing I could stomach the least, was how my own father was a degenerate who enjoyed creating cat-children!" Lafier's right hand swung animatedly in the air.
An unspeakable anxiety came over Jinto, who looked at the apprentice starpilot's left hand. The control glove on her left hand was so still, it was as though it was held in place by glue. Relief washed over him.
"Horia was only a kitten when it came to our home, and what's more, I remembered the day it joined our family. And yet it took a whole night of tears for me to realize that."
"Hey, all's well that ends well, right?"
"No! Because I got it in my head that I must be the child of another cat. Every day I was worried I would grow pads on my palms, or that my nails would become retractable, or that my irises would change shape. Even now, I've never tensed up as badly as when I stared at my reflection in the mirror after my irises constricted from exposure to bright light."
"But now all doubt's been cleared, I imagine."
"Yes." Lafier nodded. "Though I'll never forget those restless days. Part of the reason I want to become a starpilot is to get out from under my father."
"You don't like your father?" Jinto didn't know whether Abh standards of etiquette could condone prying into the life of a stranger this thoroughly, but despite his trepidation, he just had to ask.
"I don't dislike him." Her otherwise pretty face wrinkled up in a grimace. "I don't want to admit it, but I love him, and I'm proud of him. It's just that when I'm near him, I sometimes get irritated."
The image of the face of his own father, the Count of Hyde, came to mind. A face he hadn't seen except through occasional correspondence for seven years. The feeling that he'd been betrayed by him, those seven years prior, festered inside him.
He couldn't really lie to himself that he loved him. But he didn't hate him, either. He felt nothing at all for him.
That, or that deep, deep recess of his heart was refusing to embrace the emotion.
"I guess every family's got its share of circumstances," Jinto remarked. "So, you kept saying your father wouldn't tell you, but did you finally get him to at some point?"
"Yes." She turned around, and with a beaming smile, said: "She's someone I know well — a woman I look up to. I was a daughter of love."
"Good," Jinto said. And he meant it with all his heart.
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