“This really is for the best, in the end,” said Jint, after rereading.
“I don’t think so at all,” said Lina.
“You’re not a government official, so you’re not allowed to speak on this affair,” said Till, without looking at her.
“Till’s only ever this strict when it’s convenient for him.”
“You think this is convenient for me?”
The paper was a consensus document. The Hyde government was to cede its sovereignty and become a territory-nation of the Empire, but on the proviso that the one who currently held the title of Count of Hyde and all who held it in the past were never to enter within a one light-second radius of Martinh’s center. Nor was the Count allowed to stay in the entire Hyde Countdom for a period of ten or more days, or communicate with the landworld.
Naturally, the House of Hyde would have to dispatch a magistrate to do the Liege’s work in their place, but the selection of that magistrate was also stipulated to be the landworld administration’s right. In other words, by signing this document, Jint was nixing any chance of ever returning home. But in exchange, the Hyde Star System would be as close to independent as possible.
“Is our conversation being recorded?” asked Jint under his breath.
“No. Words spoken between leaders are top secret, for the government’s eyes only.”
“Then I’ll be bold and say I’d have liked to walk the Exotic Jungle one more time.” The second he said it, his eyes grew teary. He felt a drop run down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away.
“This is your last chance. Don’t sign; you can defect to our side, or seek asylum.”
Jint glanced at Lafier. “No, I can’t mess up my home planet’s future out of personal sentiment. I don’t think my replacement as count would be as generous as me.”
“Liar,” said Lina, laughing through her tears.
“I’m not lying. And that’s not the only reason, either.” Jint pulled a chair and sat down.
He waited until Till was seated to sign. The man who was President signed as well, and they exchanged documents.
“Now, this agreement won’t take effect until it’s approved by Parliament. This place may be within a light-second from Martin’s center, but I won’t cry foul until the agreement becomes law.”
Till put out his right hand. Jint took it, and mused that this was probably the first time he’d ever shaken hands with his de facto father.
“Now it’s private time for us!” Till shouted. “So please, enough recording!”
After a bit of a back-and-forth, Till’s will held sway.
Lina started arranging the dishes on the purely functional table. “I made you your favorites. Eat up, Your Highness.”
“Ah, yeah,” said Jint, too shy to string together a proper reply.
“Thank you for the meal,” said Lafier, though she didn’t partake right away. Her eyes wandered all over the table.
“You eat with your hands,” said Jint, who realized she was searching for chopsticks. To show her how it was done, Jint took a bite out of his portion of “quinzbehr” — a sandwich with beef and white cabbage.
The signature Martinese sweet-and-spicy style of seasoning was so nostalgic Jint couldn’t get enough. Lafier looked on with astonishment, and nibbled at her own quinzbehr.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but what’s with that luggage thing?”
“Oh. I just thought I’d bring it along, seeing as this is family time,” said Jint, putting down his food to open the carrier.
“What’re those?” said Till, taken aback.
“Cats,” said Jint, holding Dyaho and Sercruca’s children in arm. One was a pure-white raigh, and the other a black-and-white cnasraigh. “Care to raise them for me?”
“So that’s a cat. I’ve seen them in videos before,” said Lina, reaching out a timid hand. Jint handed her one. “I’m sure the ones I saw in the video were bigger than these little guys.”
“They’re still young.”
“And they get that big?”
“How big do you mean?”
“They were the size of humans.”
“Oh, those must’ve been tigers or lions or some such. These are house cats. They only get around this big,” he said, showing them a picture of himself with Dyaho. He hadn’t brought Dyaho with him; there were too many crevices for him to hide in at this base. It’d be a pain to try to find him if he ran away.
“Can I get this picture off you?”
“Of course.”
“We can’t take the cats, though,” said Till. “You may have forgotten, being off-world for so long, but we can’t take in anything that could upset the ecosystem.”
“I didn’t forget, I just thought that old law might’ve changed.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“That sucks.”
Lina was absorbing the photo while, right beside her, Lafier was trying Melohn Oh Shoo with a stiff and solemn expression.
“How do you say, ‘it’s delicious’ in your home language?” she whispered.
“You don’t have to force yourself. I know it’s not to your taste.”
“That’s not true. Just tell me.”
Jint told her.
The time they spent together was lovely, but it had to come to an end.
“Be safe, you two,” said Jint.
“We will. I’m sorry for everything, Jint. Glad we could meet again,” said Till, who hugged him.
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” said Jint.
Lina couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye; she just put Jint’s hand against her cheek and sobbed. It was when she turned to Lafier that words finally came. “I implore you, Your Highness, take good care of him.”
“Stop it, Lina.” Jint was red in the face. “I’m not a kid.”
“I don’t think you are,” said Lina.
“But...”
“How do I say, ‘leave him to me’?” asked Lafier.
Jint gave her a long stretch of words.
“That many words for ‘leave him to me’?” Though suspicious, she repeated the sentence.
Jint smiled. He hadn’t lied to her; Till and Lina most likely received what she wanted to convey loud and clear. He just couched it in a Martinese-language expression. Lafier’s phrasing was too blunt to be taken as anything but perfunctory by a Martinese speaker.
The direct translation was as follows: I will be his soil to stand on, and I shall make him my soil to stand on.