บท 3: Chapter 2: The Bénaic Lodaïrh (BENEH LOHDAEERR, Apprentice Starpilot)
The definition of "Abh" was laid down clearly and concisely in Rüé-Razaimec (ROOEH RAHZEM, Imperial Law). That is to say, it was a general umbrella term for fasanzœrh (FAHSANZEHRR, the highest family or "imperials"), nobles, and gentry.
According to that definition, Jinto was, as the legitimate progeny of a count's household, indisputably Abh.
However, the word "Abh" meant something else as well: It was also the name of their ethnicity. This double-meaning was not overly problematic by dint of the fact that Abhs-by-law were also typically genetic Abhs.
In other words, Jinto was the unfortunate exception. This gap was not something that could easily be covered up. After all, the difference between Abhs and Landers wasn't on the level of divergent races or ethnicities, not truly. It was on the level of different species.
While clearly distinct from Homo Sapiens, it was almost certain that Abhs were descendants of Earth humans. The evolutionary split that produced this "mutant race" cannot have been spurred by a mere mutation, it was said, but rather can only have been brought about with an explicit plan in mind.
To back that claim, one needed only point to how even now, the Abh continued to dally with their genes. It was said that the genetic manipulation of newborn children was especially indispensable to them. If there was any deviation among 27,000 designated DNA sequences within a child's nucleic acid molecules, it had to be corrected.
It was also said that this was in order to prevent congenital diseases and maintain the uniformity of their race, but there was a more perceptive way of looking at the matter.
Rather, their thinking was based on a concept not unlike poetry with predetermined numbers of lines and rhyming patterns — when certain constraints are placed upon an art form, it can reach a higher level of sophistication.
Yes, the awareness of their children's genes as the subject matter of a work of art — this was the resonating verse of Abh culture. It wasn't mandatory — it was out of a simple sense of aesthetics that they touched up their children's genes.
Nor did they practice this genetic art with poor taste. They shared their sense of beauty with most terrestrial worlds, and no one ever pointlessly ran away with their own hideous predilections — or at least, they seldom ever did.
As such, the Abh comprised a collection of lookers so lovely that it was downright irritating.
The soldier of indeterminate gender coming Jinto's way seemed the epitome of Abh genetic artistry.
Their long bluish-black locks flowed behind them, and they wore a plain military-issue circlet. Their face was oval-shaped, and a light cocoa in hue. The pupils of the striking eyes aimed straight at him were like black agates. Their eyebrows, though thin, traced sharp and elegant lines, and their small nose was beautiful in its delicateness. Their full lips were tightly pursed.
The scarlet belt was the sign of a starpilot.
As for their age... It was said to be a nigh impossible task to judge the age of an Abh by their appearance. That was because they aged in a peculiar way. Up until around age 15, they aged just like their ancestors, but during the 25 or so years following that point, they only outwardly put on about 10 years. After that, they didn't show any signs of aging for the rest of their lives. Abh call the period of growth until age 15 "zarhoth" and the subsequent period before one's appearance stops changing "féroth."
The Abh were unaging, but contrary to what many Landers believed, they were not immortal. Over time, nerve cell regeneration fatally muddled one's personality and memories. For that reason, it was said they had to make do with the same neuro-biology as their ancestors. Even Abhs couldn't survive the fraying of their brain cells.
In their pride, Abhs programmed their genes to freeze up the functioning of the area of their brains that governed breathing before their intellect faded away. Abhs also died of old age: they just did so between the ages of 200 and 250.
In other words, an Abh that appeared to be in their mid-20s could in fact be 40 or even 200 years old.
However, in this starpilot's case, there was no need to worry about getting their age too far off the mark. They were either somewhere around the end of their zeroth growth period, or the beginning of their féroth maturation period. They were most likely around Jinto's age.
They'd have to get closer before Jinto could be sure of their gender. His gut told him they were a she, but he couldn't be certain. It was quite common among Abh males to possess faces and figures that could pass as a beautiful young maiden's, even past age 200. Indeed, at this age, one couldn't tell whether they were a handsome man or a lovely lady.
But here they came, even as Jinto wracked his mind; here they came, parting the crowds with the larger-than-life presence they exuded. The way they walked was dashing and refined. Their head stayed almost completely still. She, or perhaps he, strode forward as though skating.
Jinto looked at the rank insignia on the chest of their black Abh military uniform. Though he only had a surface knowledge of rank insignias, there were some things he knew.
It was an inverse isosceles triangle with curved sides. Within its silver bordering roared the eight-headed dragon of myth, which stood as the agh (AHZH, crest/coat of arms) of the Rüé-ghéc (ROOEHZHEH, Imperial Household) and imperial niglac (NEEGLA, national coat of arms) — a silver Gaftnochec (GAHFTNOHSH). The base color of the lowest-ranked insignia was scarlet. It indicated one was a starpilot. There were no other lines or stars emblazoned on their attire.
That meant they were an apprentice starpilot.
They were wearing a starpilot's uniform, but they weren't formally a pilot for the time being. They were learning the ropes. That was the position that fresh graduates of a cénruc lodaïrh (KENROO LOHDAEERR, flight academy) took on for half a year, during which they did hands-on training aboard a warship or at a lonidec (LOHNEED, base).
Jinto was also able to glean that this apprentice starpilot was, in fact, a girl from how the insignia was modestly bulging out.
Seeing as he knew she'd come to pick him up, he ought to have walked toward her, but something about her had him overawed; he stood paralyzed.
In that time, the apprentice reached him and planted her heels right in front of him. "Are you Linn ssynec-Rocr Dreur Haïder Roch-lonh (LOHNYUH, the Honorable)?"
Jinto flinched at the unfaltering recitation of his long and laborious name. It took all his effort just to nod.
Her right hand flashed. Jinto sensed danger, so he reflexively took a step back. However, the apprentice had only moved her right hand to place her index and middle fingers to her circlet, the Abh salute of respect.
"I have come to greet you from the résic (RESEE, patrol ship) Goslauth. You will follow me." Her tone of voice was definitely a girl's, but her tense demeanor wouldn't have been out of place in a young man. Her voice was limpid, like plucking a harpstring wound tight enough to snap.
After finishing her salute, she turned her back and once again took brisk strides, as though she didn't much care whether Jinto followed her or not.
Anger seethed in Jinto's chest. It wasn't that he'd expected a lot. The dictionary definition of "aïbss" (AEEP, Lander [i.e., surface-dweller]) wasn't discriminatory per se, but from what he'd gathered reading his textbooks, Landers were the targets of the Abh's unspoken disdain. That's why he was able to brace himself a little. Of course, he was used to being treated differently from the rest. But everyone is born equal, and so he had no desire to live his life groveling before people who held him in contempt.
He was sure the the duty of escorting the heir of some upstart Lander noble wouldn't be to the apprentice starpilot girl's liking. No, it wasn't just her; nobody aboard the patrol ship cared for the idea, so they pushed it on the lowest-ranked apprentice.
Jinto convinced himself that was the case. This had to be redressed: first impressions are crucial to interpersonal relations. Of this, Jinto was very sure; it was what he'd learned from his experiences on Delktu. It all started with the courtesy of introducing oneself.
"Wait, hold up!" called Jinto.
"What?" She turned back to face him.
"You know my name, right?"
"Are you not Linn ssynec-Rocr Dreur Haïder Roch-lonh?" Doubt tinged the jet-black pupils that were staring back at him. It didn't seem as though she'd been mocking or looking down on him after all.
"Yeah, I am Linn Whosawhat Ghintec, but I don't know your name. I dunno what it's like for Abhs, but that's not something I can be comfortable just letting slide."
Astonished, she opened her large eyes even wider.
Was it rude to ask an Abh their name? Jinto felt a smidge uneasy. He may have studied Abh culture, but what he knew, he was taught by former imperial citizens at school. His knowledge could be incomplete.
However, her reaction far exceeded his expectations.
Elation broke on the apprentice's mouth, and she puffed her chest. Her blue-black hair swept in the air, and the cothec cisaiger (KOHTH KEESEGEHR, functionality crystals) at the ends of her cisaigec (KEESEG, circlet-embedded access-cables) swayed like so many eccentric earrings.
"You will call me 'Lafier'!"
She's just saying her name — so why did it sound like a declaration? wondered Jinto. It was positively triumphal in tone.
"In exchange," continued Lafier, "I would like to simply call you 'Jinto.' Agreed?" The instant he saw Lafier's inquisitive eyes, the grudge he'd harbored in his heart melted away like so much snow tossed into boiling water. Her captivating eyebrows lifted in unmistakable apprehension, frightened and unsure what she'd do if rejected.
"Of, of course!" Jinto nodded enthusiastically. "I'd be grateful if you'd do that for me."
"Well, greetings then, Jinto," said Lafier. "Let's go."
"Right." And so, now amenable, he followed Lafier.
"Jinto," said Lafier. "There's something that I would like to ask you."
"What?"
"Earlier, when I saluted you, you stepped back. What was that?"
Jinto couldn't exactly tell her that he thought she'd hit him, so he made something up on the spot. "That's just how we greet people on my home planet. Old habits."
"Ohh..." Lafier didn't appear to doubt what he said at all. "Your home planet's greeting customs are really strange. I had gotten the impression that you were guarding against some kind of attack."
"You're bound to think something you're not used to seeing is odd, no matter the culture," Jinto explained soberly.
"I see," she said, nodding. "I grew up surrounded by other Abhs, so I don't know much about foreign cultures."
"Makes sense you wouldn't."
"That being said, you are also an Abh, Jinto. I think you ought to familiarize yourself with the ways of the Carsarh Gereulacr (KARSARR GUHRYOOLAHK, Kin of the Stars)."
Jinto groaned on the inside. That's what the Abh dubbed themselves from time to time. The "Kin of the Stars." It seemed they were rather fond of this poetic moniker.
But is regarding balls of vapor bereft of any feat apart from nuclear fusion as your relatives really all that much to be proud of? pondered Jinto. Never mind that, has anyone ever tried asking the stars themselves what they think about all of this?
However, the only words that passed through his lips were: "Easier said than done. Shaking off an upbringing that's already ingrained is extremely hard."
"That may well be."
"It's gonna be tough from here on out," he said. He made sure to add a sigh to invite sympathy. That sigh belied his actual mood. He felt brilliant. His first encounter with an Abh had gone far better than he'd feared. After all, he'd managed to establish a first-name-basis relationship. Not only that, but he'd done so with a girl about his age. Any guy in his shoes who wouldn't feel exhilarated needed to get checked for a sickness of the soul.
They stopped in front of the doors to Elevator-tube 26, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Lafier fiddled with her compuwatch, and the doors opened.
Though the elevators headed towards the planet's surface were each furnished with enough seating to accommodate around 100 passengers, this elevator didn't contain any seating at all. Its interior was cramped, with only enough room for about 10 people.
"Say..." Jinto had chosen a safe topic of conversation. "That patrol ship... uh, what's its name again?"
"The Goslauth."
"Right, yeah, what byrec (BYOOR, fleet) does the Goslauth belong to?"
"It belongs to the Byrec Claïar (BYOOR KLEH'EEAR, Training Fleet)."
"So there must be a lot of apprentice starpilots like you on board, huh?"
"You lack common sense," said Lafier reproachfully.
"Of course, it took all my effort just to learn the language. Plus, I'm almost all boned up on military stuff."
"Ah, yes, of course." Lafier frowned slightly. "Forgive me." Jinto was left mystified as to whether that had been meant as an earnest apology.
The elevator-tube ascended two floors and came to a halt. Jinto got off after Lafier.
"There are claiïagac (KLEH'EEAHGA, training ships) within the Training Fleet, that much is true," Lafier explained as they walked. "However, those are boarded by cénh (KENYUH, trainee pupils). Apprentice starpilots like me don't go on those. The Training Fleet is trusted with a second mission. It hosts new, leading-edge warships that haven't yet been formally assigned while they're running familiarization runs. The Goslauth just got commissioned three months ago, and the Sarérh (SARERR, Captain) and everyone else aboard are practicing how to handle it."
"Huh?" He was suddenly nervous.
"There's nothing to fret over," Lafier said, unsmilingly. "It's a figure of speech. Excepting myself, there's no one but experienced saucec (SOHK, crewmembers), and the first round of fine-tuning has been done. It won't fall apart with you in it."
"Don't get me wrong, I wasn't worried or anything," Jinto lied once again.
There were no civilian passengers that he could see on this floor. There were only officers in uniform. The wall beside the elevator-tube was curved, giving the impression that this was a rounded circular hallway.
After going around the elevator-tube, they came upon a hallway that led outside it, guarded by a pair of sach (SAHSH, non-commissioned crew, or "NCCs").
Sach were not Abh. They were followers of the Star Forces, its low-ranked officers, and largely picked up from various terrestrial worlds.
The two NCCs standing guard saluted. "Apprentice, in accordance with regulation, allow us to inspect your compuwatch." Lafier proferred her right arm, on which the compuwatch rested. The retainer placed an oblong device on the compuwatch and read what it displayed.
"You're clear, Apprentice. Now then, if you would give us your compuwatch as well, Honorable Lonh."
"Ah, right." Jinto gave them his left arm.
While performing the identity check, the retainer took a glance at Jinto's face. He regarded him with suspicion, as though asking himself why somebody of his own race was a noble.
"You're clear, Lonh. Please, you may proceed," said the retainer, granting permission.
"Your work is appreciated," said Lafier, somewhat rotely. She urged Jinto forward.
When they set foot onto the hallway, it started to move forward. It wasn't a very long distance to traverse.
Jinto saw the words "Baulébh Rüé-Laburér" (BOHLEV ROOEHLAHBOOREHR, Administrative Zone of the Imperial Star Forces) written on the wall, and shuddered. He'd come here from a world where the concept of "the military" was found solely within the pages of history books and dictionaries. It was very late to be getting nervous about it now, but he couldn't shake the sensation that the time had finally arrived: he was officially involving himself with that great unknown, that veritable relic from the past.
There was a door at the end of the automatic path; it opened smoothly at their approach. A spaceship lay hunkered just beyond. Its painted black hull enveloped Jinto's field of vision.
"This is the patrol ship Goslauth?" asked Jinto earnestly.
"Tell me you're not seriously asking that." Lafier's eyes turned severe.
"Please remember, Lafier — I'm ignorant," said Jinto, flustered.
"There are limits to how ignorant one can be."
"Now that I recall, I think the cargo passenger ship I was on seven years ago was a bit bigger."
"I don't know what class that ship was, but it can't have been 'a bit bigger.' This is the Goslauth's loading caricec (KAREEK, small docking ship), one large enough to carry around 50 people. It's used to carry soldiers when a ship can't dock at a port directly, or to ferry them between ships. Though today, you'll be its only passenger."
"I'm honored." But then, a pang of worry. Wait, then who'll be flying the thing? Is it Lafier!?
He'd been harboring a firm preconception regarding saidiac (SEDEEA, steerers), and it definitely didn't include girls his age. But he also had a feeling, bordering on a conviction, that testing that notion might end up delivering a fatal blow not only to the relationship that had thankfully started off on the right foot, but also to Jinto's bodily form.
"So, which will you take?" she asked.
"What do you mean, 'which'? I only see the one ship..."
"The assistant steerer's seat is open. Will you be taking that seat, or would you rather stay in the accommodation compartment in the back?"
"Is there a lovely lady stewardess back there?" Jinto quipped.
"There's no lovely stewardess," replied Lafier with dead seriousness, "but if it's a most beauteous steerer you want, you won't be disappointed. So what will it be?" The "most beauteous steerer," it would seem, was referring to herself.
I'm glad I didn't ask if anybody else could steer, Jinto mused. She would have definitely taken it as an insult.
"I'll take the assistant's seat, obviously," said Jinto, thereby resigning himself to leaving his life in her hands.
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