“It’s not that rare for an Abh to hate a blood relative, either, you know.”
“Really? But then, where are the civil wars? The feuds in the imperial court? The only revolts that ever happen in the Empire are the ones Landers stoke from time to time. Abh history is so dull. It’s like dinner without the spice.”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” said Jint, as conversation filler.
“Listen, my dad lost his life over who would take over the tiny-ass company. The company whose only saving grace is that it’s got a long history. But there are people out there who’d kill the little brother they grew up with just to get their hands on a company like that. Then you’ve got an entire empire. If you look through history, it’s full of the kind of gruesome stories that are my cup of tea. Think about all the people who, to grab hold of a crown, killed their fathers, their siblings, even their kids. I think there was even this one awesome empire that had each possible heir to the throne slaughter each other for the right. And the new emperor’s first task was to murder the little brothers and nephews who’d been too young to participate in the killing game. What I’m trying to say is, all the history surrounding thrones and crowns reeks of blood. Sometimes, they’ll throw in a story of imprisonment or exile instead of murder, but I’m sure that’s just out of regard for the reader. You’ve gotta punctuate all the bloodshed with some heart-warming fluff once in a while. Mind you, I dunno who ‘they’ are. In any case, that’s the human condition. But the Abh, they never kick down their fellow Abhs in a bid for the throne. And that’s unheard of in history; I’ve certainly never heard of such a thing. At first, I thought they were just really good at hiding it.”
“In other words, since there’s no conspiring for the throne, the Abh are creepy to you?” asked Jint, cocking his head. “I’d say that’s just because the imperial system’s that refined.”
“That ain’t it. The Abh, they’re born that way. It’s in their blood,” spat Durin. “You know that, don’t you?”
“No, what are you talking about?”
“They don’t oppose their social superiors because they can’t, on an instinctual level. That’s why they’re so powerful as a unit.”
The Abhs that Jint had come to know came to mind. No way that’s true. “You’ve got it all wrong. There’s a ton of Abhs who make it a life mission to make fun of their social superiors. I learned during history class that an emperor way back when made it illegal to disrespect the crown. But if they actually enforced it, then half of all gentry and almost every noble would get arrested, so everyone pretends it’s not on the books.”
“Lynn Jint, buddy, making fun of someone is a sign of affection. Do you think I tease you in order to hurt you?”
“Nah,” said Jint. “I realized your teasing is probably a sign of affection.”
“Right, see? That’s not the same as disobedience, or hostility. Or hurting someone deliberately. Lots of the time, people need to squash others lest they be squashed.”
Jint mulled it over. It was certainly the case that the Abh were, at root, orderly and disciplined. An Abh could stand face-to-face with the Empress herself and criticize or tease her, but that would never evolve into any serious opposition.
“Now do you see? It’s in their blood, man. Do you really not know that?”
“I never paid it much attention. I’m not that interested in history, myself. Besides, the society on my home planet was tiny. Any conspiracy on Martin would’ve been positively adorable in scope.”
“Well, you should pay attention. You’re the one who told me, on that day at the spaceport, that your kids would be blue-haired Abhs. That that was the rule.”
“I might’ve said that,” said Jint, who couldn’t recall all that clearly. “It’s true that that’s imperial law.”
“And you’re fine with that? Wait, don’t tell me you’ve already got kids?”
“Nope, not yet,” said Jint, smiling wryly. “Haven’t even really given the matter serious thought.”
“Give it some thought, then. They’re not just gonna be blue-haired. They’re gonna be genetically incapable of resisting authority. You sure you’re okay with that?”
“I...” Jint didn’t know what to say.
“You can’t be okay with that. It’s not okay. You know what those soldiers used to say? The Empire’s just a giant machine. And each individual Abh’s a component in that machine. I agree with those words.”
“They’re not, though,” said Jint, taking care not to raise his voice. Lafier and all the other Abhs Jint knew were unique human beings with personalities.
“Let’s leave it at that. Otherwise we’ll never stop,” said Durin, an earnest look in his eyes. “I don’t intend to convince you here and now. There are some who misunderstand my way of talking things out as pushy, but they’re all blind as bats. In reality, I hate pushiness. I’m just asking you to think about it. If you still think I’m wrong after giving it some thought, then I don’t mind if you come over and explain why that is. Maybe watching those kittens got me a little excited. But if you realize that you’re the one who’s wrong, then don’t forget that I, Que Durin, always have a place for you here.”
“I’m grateful for that,” said Jint, from the bottom of his heart. “But...”
“Good. You should be grateful. You should stay for a whole week, too. You can’t put on a game of minchiu in the Abh world. Let’s have ourselves a few amateur matches.”
If Durin had accepted his request, Jint had intended to stay for a while and recruit more people alongside Durin. After all, the Baucbiruch wouldn’t be back for another week. As such, Jint would have liked
