Bab 1: 0
Prologue
The night sky was nigh cloudless. Staring up at the heavens on a night like this evoked the sensation they might just suck up its hapless spectators.
Between the stars, satellites glided slowly — satellites that weren't present near the planet Martin 30 days prior. They gazed down menacingly, as though upon a planet of prisoners, illuminating with their phosphorescent glow. One might have wondered whether the moon they said orbited Earth shone like that, too.
The pinprick of light that passed beneath them must have been an Abh spaceship: the real, true oppressors of the 10 million citizens of Martin.
Actually, there wasn't merely a single point of light. There were, in fact, dozens. No matter where in the night sky one planted their eyes, at least one of them came into view.
Even now, another flock emerged from beyond the Exotic Jungle that plunged ever deeper into the pitch dark, not unlike the bugs of Martin that gathered, teeming to frolic. The points of light were especially numerous near that giant sphere wrapped in a faint light. Careful observation revealed that the lights were moving in and out of the sphere.
The flocks of lights painted long luminescent streaks behind them, sliding across the celestial expanse with a speed that proved they couldn't be stars. There were even those that dipped close enough to the surface that one could ascertain their shape, if only dimly. It was like something out of a dream. Jinto ought to have resented them, but he could only stare, transfixed.
Jinto Lin was eight years of age then. According to the standard calendar insisted upon by a subset of adherents of the old nostalgic Earth ways, he was 10. By either reckoning, he was a child. Though it was well past a child's bedtime, Jinto stared up at this unfamiliar night sky from the hybrid-functionality structure's rooftop park.
In the distant past, before Jinto was born, the only star system humanity inhabited was what was called the "Solar System."
An Oort Cloud research vessel that was deployed by a certain nation discovered a wondrous elementary particle in a sector 0.3 light-years away from the sun. Its mass was 1,000 times greater than a proton's. It would have been a huge anomaly had that been all, yet its baffling characteristics proved numerous.
For one, it released around 500 megawatts of energy. No one could point to where that energy came from. Some put forward the so-called "White Hole Theory" to explain it; others theorized it was due to parallel dimensions, hyperspace, or subspace — whatever the term for it, they claimed one or more holes must have opened up in the barrier that divides this universe from alternate ones. All of those ideas were nothing more than speculation: hypotheses at best.
In any event, the particle was given the name "yuanon," and research commenced. That research did not aim to determine its true nature; rather, it sought to secure methods of utilizing it.
Humanity had, at that juncture, already obtained nuclear fusion, so they did not usually worry about their source of power on land, but the depths of space were another matter entirely. Before any prospect of efficient interstellar travel could be entertained, the issue of mass differentials lay before them. If someone attempted to travel to the next star over within their lifetime, it would require an amount of fuel many hundreds of times heavier than the combined weight of the ship and its load.
That was the principle set in stone by physics. A fuel-on-board nuclear fusion propulsion model would never be suitable for practical use. Even the Bussard Ramscoop Propulsion Method, which had a fair amount of hope placed in it, was ultimately considered impossible due to the density of interstellar matter. Nor, indeed, was matter-antimatter annihilation-propulsion within reach, and even if it had been, it wouldn't solve the mass problem.
On the other hand, if yuanons could be made the spaceship's energy source, then differentials of mass could be disregarded without concern. After all, fuel would no longer be necessary. For that reason, the yuanon-propulsion spaceship was engineered.
Its basic structure was cylindrical; at the core of the cylinder lay a magnetic trap that held in yuanons. The cylinder's interior was lined with a high-temperature superconducting substance which reflected the charged particles emitted by yuanons. A portion of the electromagnetic waves were then absorbed, with the surplus energy radiating into the vacuum through a heat sink. Meanwhile, electrically neutral particles could be absorbed by the material inserted between the inner tubes and the overall structure.
When a pilot wished to accelerate with full power, they could close one of the tubes and funnel the rushing torrent of energy in a single direction. If they didn't want to accelerate, they could open both tubes to emit equal amounts of energy in both directions. Adjusting the rate of acceleration was as simple as opening and closing the tubes' apertures.
Despite the multitude of technical and economic barriers, rampant overpopulation and the strife it caused would mark the final stages of the era and lend strongly to the realization of yuanon propulsion.
A survey into nearby star systems had already been completed by unmanned nuclear fusion-propelled ships. As a result, atmospheres containing free oxygen were found to be rare in this galaxy. It was not enough for the planet to have the right level of gravity and distance from its sun; other factors such as the initial conditions of the star system's formation and its rock composition ratios also came into play. Earthlike planets were the exception among exceptions. That meant that the number of planets on which carbon-based lifeforms could live was low.
Regardless, that was not an insurmountable problem for the Star System Emigration Plan, since the pressure caused by the ever-burgeoning population spurred humanity to outfit themselves with terraforming technology, implementing trial runs on bodies such as Mars and Venus. After that, it became apparent that all they had to do was apply the technology to which they'd already grown accustomed to other star systems. Nor was there any need to worry their heads over ethical issues regarding extraterrestrial lifeforms.
Thus, the first yuanon-propelled spaceship, dubbed "Pioneer," was constructed. Pioneer's mission was to carry the personnel and materials necessary to open a colonial hub-point. Once laser-propeller bases were set up, people and objects could then be ferried through light-sail-propelled spaceships, mitigating overreliance on precious yuanon-propelled ships.
Whenever humanity would find a planet that even remotely resembled their old home, they would move in on it. They expanded their domain by terraforming planets that resembled Venus or Mars as well. This was achieved by increasing the density of otherwise overly thin atmospheres to breathable concentrations, or else by trapping and thinning excess parts of high-pressure atmospheres. Atmospheric remodeling, soil production, ecosystem construction...
As they expanded their domain, a new type of yuanon was discovered, unlocking the potential for a new interstellar emigration ship. Its construction was undertaken not only within the Solar System, but also in other settled star systems.
The ancestors of the inhabitants of the planet Martin came on an interstellar immigration vessel built in the Solar System named the "Leif Erikson." During this era, the scarcity of yuanons slightly dropped, such that instead of opening a colonial hub, it became possible to introduce yuanon-propelled starships throughout all corners of the emigration program. In the case of the Leif Erikson, it was subsumed into the mission of surveying and selecting places to reside during its preliminary stage. In other words, to board the Leif Erikson was to be sent away, the call to "go live somewhere, anywhere else" ringing in its wake.
There were cases where people were merely sent on ships as nuisances to get rid of. But the passengers and crew of the Leif Erikson harbored a peculiar desire. They were thoroughly fixated on a planet wrapped in an atmosphere containing large amounts of oxygen. They thought that there must be an exotic ecosystem out there somewhere, and for countless generations they searched far and wide, until, finally, they found a blue planet orbiting a G-type star.
The star was named after their first captain, Hyde, while the planet with the oxygenic atmosphere was named after their captain at the time of discovery. Although there was no intelligent life on the planet Martin, a plethora of bizarre flora and fauna did thrive there. The population of the settlers that came aboard the Leif Erikson, who were careful not to disrupt the alien ecosystem there, slowly increased over time.
Following the completion of the settlement process, the Leif Erikson, the interstellar immigration vessel whose duty was now over, was moored in continuous orbit around Martin in commemoration.
On Day 57 of the first season of the 172nd year of their Post-Landing Calendar, the Leif Erikson exploded without warning. In its aftermath lingered the phosphorescent satellite. Although a "satellite" by name, it did not constitute any solid matter, as it was a mere clump of gas. It was a unique, formless, spherical pocket of space — in truth, a completely transformed mass of yuanons that were once captive within the Leif Erikson. Such was the true nature of Martin's portentous new "moon," which had not yet been given a name.
A single spaceship appeared from out of the explosion. That ship refused all communication, but, interestingly, it circled Martin three times before turning its back on the planet's uneasy populace and quickly returning through the dimly glowing spherical pocket of space.
People made moves to look into the space-sphere, the parting gift left by the mysterious spaceship. However, before the government could appropriate the necessary funding, any opportunity to investigate was dashed, alongside any point of conducting one.
On Day 81 of that very same season and year, a large fleet suddenly made its appearance from within the space-sphere. This time, it was they who wished to communicate. They'd most likely analyzed the radio waves from 24 days prior, determined that Martinese had its roots in the tongue of "English," and set their translation device accordingly. It was not so difficult to understand the ancient words in the case of Martin, and so there was no language barrier for their first contact.
They called themselves "Abh" (pronounced "AHV"): that was the name of their race. They had blue hair, but their faces and figures were decidedly human, and they were all outwardly youthful and beautiful. They attested thus: "We may look a little different, but we too are children of Earth." It was just that their genes had been slightly modified.
The Abh were said to rule 1,500 human-populated star systems and over 20,000 half-human-populated star systems. The official title of their system of government (that is to say, their nation) was the Frybaréc Glœr Gor Bari (FRYIBAR GLEHR GOR BAREE, Humankind Empire of Abh), though it was often called the Bar Frybaréc (Abh Empire) for short.
The star system's administration promptly called for talks to enter into a friendly accord. Yet Commander-in-Chief Ablïar, leader of the invasion armada, rejected the offer.
"Sadly," said Commander Ablïar, "I cannot do that. My duty is not to forge an alliance for the sake of the Empire; it is to add another world to the Empire's dominion."
Given that these were not unarmed ships, but a deployed armada, there were people who suspected they intended to invade, but even they were not immune from the shock. No one could have imagined they'd be hit with such a direct, unabashed declaration. Was it not a matter of reason to start things off with peaceful negotiation? Even if it would turn into intimidation and browbeating more or less immediately.
It was useless to insist on talking to a diplomat as opposed to a soldier:
"I am not just a soldier," the Commander replied. "I am also a diplomat. In fact, to tell you the truth, I am also Crown Prince. My will is the Empire's will, at least with regards to how you shall be dealt with. I understand your concerns, so I shall deign to explain what it will be like to be a subject of the Empire. I cannot, however, agree to hold negotiations. We have already recognized this planet as belonging to the Empire."
Naturally, an explanation was in order. It was not only government officials, but also the common citizenry who keenly needed one. As such, the video image of the Fleet Commander speaking from the flagship was relayed in real time. It was only then that the people saw what their assailants looked like for the first time.
Pointed ears poked through dark, navy blue locks that draped down to his waist area. That, combined with the crown of delicate make upon his head, conjured up the image of a fairy out of a children's fable more than a stereotypical invader. His face white as fresh snow, he seemed a youth of around 25, and a handsome one. The expression on his countenance, which could be mistaken for a comely lady's, was listless, languid. It spoke volumes of how tedious he found the task of conquering the Hyde Star System.
"Now then, I shall outline the terms between the Empire and your surface world," said the Crown Prince of Abh, his voice loud and clear. The words, spoken in Baronh (BAHROHNYUH, the language of the Abh), continued to be translated into Ancient English, which was in turn translated into Modern Martinese by their own automatic translator.
"First of all, there will be no possibility of maintaining a noble rank in your star system. In light of this star system's special nature, Her Majesty the Empress will be your lord, at least for the time being. Naturally, Her Majesty has other duties to which she must attend, and as such, a local governor will be dispatched. We believe overworld governance to be a labor far removed from the realm of the elegant, and so long as the ground-dwelling populace can look after themselves, the lords and magistrates will seldom interfere in any of your more trifling matters. Needless to say, those principles apply to all of you as well."
"Now, kindly put forward your representative. That individual will become your lord or magistrate, as well as your negotiator with the Empire. It matters not to us what title you bestow upon the office. You may call them 'President,' or 'Chief,' or 'Presiding Chair,' or even 'Emperor.' If you would like to hold onto the illusion that you are a sovereign nation, you may call them 'Foreign Minister.' All the same, the title will appear in imperial documents as 'Territorial Representative.'"
"It goes without saying, but you are free to choose how you select them. Please use any method you like — elections, hereditary succession, nominations, drawing lots. However, in order to be a Territorial Representative, do be aware that it is necessary to receive the approval of your lord. This will essentially amount to a formality, but veto rights will be exercised against those who would flagrantly advocate secession from the Empire. "
"Your lord will not claim any right to levy taxes. Instead, the Empire recognizes the exclusive right to trade with other star systems. The profits so acquired will sustain your lord's livelihood. In some cases, you may invest in your planet, or other planets in your system. In addition, in order to safeguard your assets, it may prove necessary to post an independent garrison, separate and distinct from your autonomous governing body. That being said, it would be in accordance with a pact reached with your lord, and you will retain plenty of room for negotiation."
"Roughly speaking, the Empire will only compel you to obey two dictates."
"Firstly, construction of spaceships capable of interstellar navigation shall be forbidden. This is because once you are under imperial control, you, too, will quickly learn how to overcome the light-speed barrier. Such a development is inevitable, but see to it that you do not entertain the notion of actually applying that knowledge. We do not generally permit vessels that navigate to other systems across space. At the risk of repeating myself: Inter-system trade is a privilege enjoyed by your lord, and one protected by imperial patronage. Depending on whether your lord gives the nod, you may be allowed to possess spaceships should they keep their travels within your star system. However, we will not recognize any right to arm those ships."
"Secondly, we shall be putting into place a recruitment office for the Imperial Star Forces. We dispatch soldiers to carry out official duties and maintain security, and the soldiers stationed on your planet's surface will be there for those purposes only. Inferring from your population, these will not exceed 10,000 in number. As long as your autonomous government is alive and well, I promise that we will not press upon you any additional troops without your consent. Furthermore, there will be no draft, nor any conscription. Surface people are free to choose to join the Star Forces if they so desire. However, we must add that any attempt to interfere with an individual's free will to volunteer for military service is forbidden."
"Now, as for your social status, you are all considered 'territorial citizens.' If, however, you enlist in the Stellar Army and become a vassal of your lord, and decide of your volition to work for the Empire, you will then become a citizen not of your territory but of the Empire and its nation, thereby relinquishing any ties with your territory's local government in favor of obtaining the Empire's patronage. That is what it means to be a subject of the Empire."
"In any case, dramatic change will be coming to your daily lives. That change will not be affected by any tyranny on the part of your lord, but rather by the goods that will become available from other systems. We do not expect any loyalty to the Empire or His Majesty, so once you become accustomed to these unfamiliar novelty goods, your conscious awareness of your subjection to the Empire as 'territorial citizens' will largely fade."
"Now, I have reached the end of my speech."
"From now on, a subordinate will answer any questions you may have in my stead. Please choose how you will come under the Empire's rule: peacefully, or forcefully, by outcome of war. Personally, I have deemed the bio-resources of this planet a valuable commodity, but I caution you not to make any unfounded assumptions that we will therefore hesitate to burn you off the surface of your planet. Happily for us, your metropolis is quite conspicuous. It would be more than feasible for us to destroy it without causing much harm to the surrounding nature."
"Now then, you are free to vex my subordinates with an endless font of questions, but their patience is limited, so we cannot humor your questions indefinitely. Your deadline to reply is precisely three rotations from now."
Among other imperial subjects, the address was more respectful than most anticipated, but the people of the city who watched the broadcast were incensed. Though polite on a surface level, no care had been taken to word things so as to gain their good will. After all, the rank arrogance was there for all to hear. There was no sign of any consideration that there was even a possibility they could be rebuffed.
The ire of the politicians and the senior bureaucrats was especially intense. The positions that they'd jostled so hard to seize had been described by that young Abh noble as "a labor far removed from the realm of the elegant"! Besides, what proof did they have that he was telling the truth? For all they knew, the Abh Commander could be lying, and subjects of the Empire were victims of repression. In fact, it would be crazy to honestly believe that a bunch of people who had come out of nowhere to all but attack them were actually sincere.
Naturally, bureaucrats and representatives of the city's inhabitants did go on to pepper the officers with endless questions through the communication circuits, gaining a lot of information in the process. However, the time they were given to analyze that information was far too short. Attempting to determine the authenticity of their answers was an exercise in despair. A group of experienced court attorneys joined the lawmakers in questioning the Abh officers, but they failed to find any points of contradiction. Though, even if the information they were given had been full of lies, the administration of the Hyde Star System had little choice regardless.
The planet Martin housed an anti-space defense system. Since they had also come here from the reaches of space, it was rather easy to predict there would one day be an incursion from that very same space. There was no need to envisage an extrastellar intelligence. The possibility their very own cousins, violent and ill-mannered, would come for them was already there. Yet allocating the necessary defense funding was easier said than done.
The heads of several different administrations zealously tackled this issue, but all they had were 10 grounded anti-space lasers and 20 anti-space missiles. They boasted no spacefaring army, and it fell on a department within the Ministry of Facilities to maintain and inspect those anti-space weapons. In times of emergency, the weapons' launch controls were supposed to be overseen by a part-time general in an underground control room.
The only other arm of military power the star system's government had access to was the police force that was equipped to, at best, tamp down on a large-scale riot. To say facing off against the firepower of a space armada would place too heavy a burden on them would be an understatement.
Despite that, there was a faction in Parliament that wanted war. They reasoned that the giant fleet could be a bluff, and that, even if they were no match for them in the theater of space, there was hope for victory on the surface. They also reasoned that all other considerations aside, this was a matter of honor. Would it really be fine with the people to simply submit without even attempting to fight?
Of course, there were equally staunch people who thought those arguments were shallow-minded, and as such they dug themselves deeper and deeper in the debates. Discussion went from the clash of lofty concepts and philosophies, to the flinging of personal invective.
However, their session could hardly go on forever. After all was said and done, their deadline loomed in three short days. A day on Martin lasted two hours longer than a day on their ancestral homeworld, but they had to reach a consensus of opinions, and urgently. Unfortunately, Parliament wasn't accustomed to issuing a decision with any swiftness. Reluctantly, they entrusted the decision to the head of government.
The head of government at that time was Rock Lin — Jinto Lin's father.
President Lin shared his thoughts with only a handful of others, and whipped up support. Some vigorously opposed him, but he succeeded in laying a gag order on them. With the deadline approaching, President Lin stood before the transmission equipment of his presidential residence with his reply prepared...
"So that's where you were," said a familiar voice from behind him. "I was looking for you."
"Ah, right," replied Jinto.
There stood a tall, slim, middle-aged man. It was Teal Clint, President Lin's private secretary. He had served in that role since Lin was a member of Parliament, and had known him since before Jinto was born.
Jinto, for his part, had known about him since he was a child. He more than merely knew him, though. He had practically been raised as his own flesh and blood.
Jinto never knew his mother. She had been a mine supervisor, dying in an accident before her only son had even learned to crawl. Rock Lin had felt uneasy about the prospect of raising his son as a single father, and he had his hands full with his political responsibilities, so he asked Teal, whom he found so dependable, as well as his wife Lina, to bring up Jinto. The Clints were fond of one another, but by happenstance were without child, so they were actually grateful when they took up Rock's request. Jinto believed himself to be Teal's son until primary school, and the affection he felt for that secretary was deeper than what he felt for his real father. The person he loved the most in the world, however, was Lina Clint.
The sharp features of Teal's dark-skinned face were overcast by a sullen shadow.
"I'm sorry," Jinto apologized. He thought he'd be scolded for being outside in the dead of night — and a particularly dangerous night at that, given the situation. "I'll go back to my room right now!"
"That's all right. Just come with me." Teal grasped his hand with enough force to nearly tear it off and stomped off.
Fear dawned on Jinto at the sight of Teal's unusual, alarming behavior. "Where're we going?"
"The Presidential Residence."
"The Presidential Residence?"
The City of Crandon, the sole city on all of Martin and home to its humans, was composed of three hybrid-functionality structures. They had been given exceedingly practical names, devoid of sentiment: "Omni I," "Omni II," and "Omni III." Jinto lived in Omni III with the Clints, while the Presidential Residence was in Omni I.
"What're we going there for?" Going to the Presidential Residence meant seeing his father. What business did his father have with him during such a pivotal time? To say nothing of Teal Clint, who, as the secretary of the head of government, should have had more vital work than picking up an eight-year-old boy.
"Just come!" Teal turned his back and strode on.
"Wait! Hold on!" Teal's strides, which were long even for an adult, forced the adolescent boy to trot to keep up with him. Normally, he'd slow his pace for Jinto; what on earth had happened?
Teal didn't so much as turn his head. "We have no time, hurry up."
Finally, they had arrived at the elevator-box.
"Hey, are you mad at me about something? I'll say I'm sorry, so please..."
Teal didn't answer back. His frustration evident, he just poked at the elevator-box's wall with his index and middle fingers, waiting for it to open up.
Finally, the elevator-box doors opened. No one was in it. Jinto had never been so frightened by the idea of being alone with Teal.
"Take us to the Nexus Floor," Teal told the computer that directed the elevator.
The doors closed and, when the elevator began to lower, Jinto felt he couldn't keep quiet for even a second longer. "Hey, do you think we can win?"
"We'll neither win nor lose. There won't be a war to win," he grumbled in reply.
"So we gave up?"
Teal glared at the boy. "That's right. Your father chose to surrender. He didn't just 'surrender,' though – he sold us out."
"He sold us out? What do you mean?"
"The bastard made a deal. A dirty, rotten deal," spat Teal bluntly.
"A deal?"
"Stop repeating me like a damn parrot!"
"I... I'm sorry." The boy ducked his head.
"Don't get me wrong; I was against war, too. It really doesn't look like we could win. But to make a deal like that!? Dammit, I've lost all respect for Rock!"
Jinto grew sad. He'd been secretly proud that he had two fathers. And yet, here was the father who raised him cursing out the father who sired him. His eyes filled with tears.
The father that raised him flashed a guilty expression upon seeing the boy start sobbing convulsively. "I'm sorry. It's not remotely your fault, but I..."
"Tell me what's going on! I've got no idea..."
"Nor would you." Teal ruffled his short black hair. "Like I said before, Rock struck a deal. What he did will be announced all too soon. There's no doubt he'll be the object of the scorn of all who live on Martin. There will even be quite a few who will think that if they can't lay their hands on him, they can at least pummel his family members. That's the reason I'm taking you to the Presidential Residence, where there's strict security."
"You mean I'll get beaten up by a mob?" Jinto quivered.
"It's not out of the question." Teal nodded in cruel confirmation. "Even if it doesn't come to that, they'll heap harassment on you. Verbal abuse. Throwing things. Maybe you'll get a smoke candle tossed into your room."
When Teal referred to Jinto's room, the first thing that popped in his mind was Lina Clint. "Then what's Lina gonna do? Tons of people know I live in your house!"
"I've already contacted her. She's a grown-up; she can take care of herself."
"You mean she's gone to a safe place before us?" He couldn't believe Lina would run away without him.
"Yep." Teal read Jinto's expression. "She was worried about you, you know. I calmed her down by telling her I'd go look for you."
"Okay." But something wasn't sitting right with him. After all, there would have been no guarantee Teal would actually find him. Lina would have wanted to search for Jinto, too. That's what the Lina that Jinto knew would have done.
The elevator reached the Nexus Floor on Tier 3, and its doors opened. Each morose for different reasons, the two stepped out onto the Nexus Floor. Countless elevator-tubes were lined up on this floor, running from the top to the bottom of the hybrid-functionality building. They were reminiscent of the pillars holding up the heavy roof of an ancient temple. Unmanned taxi-boxes rushed around between the tubes.
A taxi-box detected the elevator-doors opening and stopped in front of them. With just his right arm, Teal prompted Jinto to get on. Jinto tried to settle his nerves, but he couldn't regain his composure.
"The Presidential Residence. Hurry," Teal murmured tersely to the taxi-box. Afterwards, he crossed his arms, and remained silent.
Jinto wondered what exactly the "deal" entailed. The mood that hung in the air made it exceedingly difficult to probe Teal, but he gathered up all the courage in his small frame and asked: "C'mon, tell me about the deal."
"It's confidential. It's being kept under wraps from the general public until the official announcement."
"From me, too?" he hazarded to ask, timidly.
The secretary snorted in response. "Capitalizing on your new privileges already, I see!"
"What do you mean...?"
"Switch on the holo. The announcement will be on in no time." Jinto did as he was told and switched on the taxi-box's attached holovision. The stereoscopic video played above the manual driving apparatus.
"For now, the Abh fleet hasn't made any moves," said the tiny, translucent figure. "Reports have come in that there has been some kind of back-and-forth between President Lin and the invaders. According to information obtained from a certain source, it is said that our surrender to the Empire has been confirmed. Even so, we cannot but continue to hope that those reports are mistaken, and that our leaders will make decisions with honor. In addition, we received notice that there will be a, quote, 'statement of grave significance' delivered at the Presidential Residence at precisely 25 o'clock. 90 seconds remain."
They were a long 90 seconds – a minute and a half he wanted to elapse quickly, but that he also wanted to stretch on forever. Jinto was running out of patience as he anxiously stared at the 3-dimensional video, glancing occasionally at the man beside him.
Teal was as still as a statue. He didn't give the hologram so much as a peek, instead fixing his line of sight straight ahead.
The taxi-box exited the hybrid-functionality structure and ran through the Liaison Tube suspended in the Exotic Jungle.
Finally, the time came.
The video had already shifted to displaying an empty podium. Then, a handsome-looking spokesman appeared to take the podium. "I will deliver the statement."
Jinto gulped from the tension, and gazed at the spokesman's mouth.
"Today, at 23:52, Rock Lin, President of the Government of the Hyde Star System, expressed to Crown Prince and Imperial Fleet Commander Ablïarsec néïc-Lamsar Dusanh, His Highness King of Barce, his intention to cede the Hyde Star System's autonomy. Starting today, we are a part of the Humankind Empire of Abh."
Though the holographic projection didn't display them, Jinto could hear the clamor of the press corps that had been intently watching the spokesman. There was no shock, no anger in that tumult of voices. There was only resignation. He even heard someone mutter an "I knew it."
Jinto glanced at Teal, thinking: See, it couldn't be that bad, right?
"There's more," said Teal.
"However, the President felt that he'd like for the citizens of the Hyde Star System to be the ones to operate the paths to other systems, and as such suggested a compromise. That is to say, a proposal to install a citizen of this system as our 'lord.'"
"You mean that's possible!?" someone gasped.
"There will be time for questions later. Please maintain order," the spokesman said, parrying with ease. "However, I will make an exception in this case and answer. Given the terms they reached, it was indeed possible. In exchange for the codes necessary to disable our anti-space defense system, our new ruler acceded to conditions more favorable for us."
"Then who's this new 'lord'?"
"I told you, you may ask questions later. The initial idea was to select our lord by means of an election. Unfortunately, however, the positions of imperial nobility aren't swayed by electoral results. Nobles aren't generally familiar with the electoral system to begin with!" the spokesman said, attempting a chuckle and botching it.
Even through the airwaves, viewers picked up on the increasingly murderous current in that room.
"Who's our lord!?" Same question, different voice.
"You did watch Commander Ablïar's explanation regarding the Empire and Star System, did you not? He may be our 'lord' in a technical sense, but he'll be more akin to the owner of a space trade company. Owners of corporations aren't chosen through elections; it's mostly hereditary in practice, so..."
"Who's our lord!? Dammit, I know, everyone here knows, and you better believe everyone watching knows! We just want to hear you say it, loud and clear! Tell us, what's the name of our new lord and master?"
Even Jinto had caught on, however much he didn't want to believe it. "It can't be... he's lying..." He looked to Teal's eyes for salvation. And yet, he sat there expressionless, his lips shut. Jinto turned back to the broadcast, to find the spokesman staring up. He'd been driven into a corner.
"Very well. It's as you've all probably surmised. Rock Lin will be making our star system his territory." The outcry that ensued could only be described as unmitigated rage.
"That was it. That was the deal," said Teal. "Just so he could rise in status to a noble, he handed our only weapon over to our invaders. I had no idea those Abhs had feared our anti-space defense system so much. Maybe we could have put up a real fight after all."
"B-But..." Jinto tried his level best to defend his father's honor. "He tried to get them to let us vote for who'd be lord at first! Which means—"
"I wouldn't know!" Teal ground his back teeth. "I only caught wind of his 'idea' after it was all over. After the defense systems had been disabled, after the Lin family would join the ranks of imperial nobility. I don't care what terms he initially proposed. That weasel didn't bother consulting me, his own secretary, beforehand, and he apparently didn't think he had much use for me, either. He must have thought all I could do was bring his kid someplace safe. And here I thought we were best friends!"
"Ah..." Now an additional reason Teal was so mad was made clear. Teal saw what he did as a personal betrayal as well.
"All of you, calm down!" the spokesman on the holovision shrieked. "If you would just think it through rationally, you would understand that this is our best course of action. President Lin will pay the utmost consideration to all of our government's demands. In truth, as long as he doesn't violate the orders of the Empire, he intends to follow the will of the star system's government – the government of the people. I hope you realize that that wouldn't be something we could hope of someone born a noble of the Empire. We can expect the maximum level of freedom afforded to any star system under the Empire's control."
"Malarkey!"
"How can we take you at your word!?" Some questions could be heard through the jeering outbursts.
"Where is President, ahem, Lord Lin currently?"
"Yeah, where is that lout!?"
"Errr..." The spokesman had reached a state of stammering previously unthinkable given his job performance up until that moment. "In order to iron out the particulars and to formally receive his peerage at the Empire's capital, he headed to an Abh fleet flagship. He embarked on an Abh landing ship on the French Prairie, and he's currently aboard."
"So he scarpered off!"
"Must be why he put off the announcement for so long."
"Wonder if he'll be back?"
"Oh he'll be back, surrounded by imperial guards."
"No, even if he wanted to return, there's no way he could. You think the Empire'd make him a noble that easily? Heh, looks like he himself got duped. Serves him right!"
"Everyone, please!" But the spokesman was waging a one-man battle. "Please, you must understand, the President made the decisions he made with the happiness of every citizen in mind, not for personal profit—"
Jinto couldn't take any more. He switched off the holovision.
"And that's how it is," said Teal. "This makes you the next in line for the lordship, you know. Oh my, how crass of me to address you in such a vulgar fashion. You are our 'Noble Prince,' after all. I humbly beseech you, if you would be so magnanimous, forgive me my lapse in manners, Your Excellency."
Jinto tried to convince himself that it was all in good humor, but there wasn't a shred of levity on Teal's face.
"Stop it, Teal..." Jinto struggled to hold in the tears. "Why are you talking to me like that... It's not fair... "
"I know it's not." Teal kept staring straight ahead. "I know I'm treating you horribly. It's just, I can't get over it. Son of a... It may not look it, but I'm trying my hardest not to yell. Dammit, damn it all..."
The taxi-box entered Omni I's Nexus Floor. The elevator for the Presidential Residence would be arriving soon.
"There's only one thing I want to know..."
"What?" Teal looked his way.
"When you told Lina to run..." Suddenly, he lost the desire to finish asking the question. But there was no getting around it; he had to hear the answer. "...Did you tell her about the deal, too?"
"... No. It was being kept under wraps from the general public." That moment's hesitation mercilessly exposed his lie.
"I see..." Jinto could virtually hear the rattling as the world with which he was so intimately familiar — the world he loved — collapsed around him.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone