2161 AD
૨૧૨૪ MA

“It could have been worse,” Zeramblin said, after leaving the stage. Oh, it could have been better – Empire-pledged candidates had lost a net of 20 seats, though he was hopeful he could claw a couple back; there were a couple independents who would be in line for committee leadership posts if they came in to the majority.

Still, Empire was down to its lowest ebb since he took over the caucus in 2105. He knew he wouldn’t lose his subcaucus – he’d been too good to them, for too long. But Qorni could be ready to sharpen the knives.

“Doram, what’s 29 Colonies looking like?” he said; it was one of the few races left uncalled.

“Looks like the Green and Black candidate is gonna squeak it out. Got lucky. They won’t be over 35.”

“Wasn’t luck,” Zeramblin said to his campaign manager and senior unofficial advisor. “The liberals helped us out.”

“I hate to say it,” Doram Jusa said, “but you’re right. Armac went straight after the Titan Party in the last few weeks, despite there only being two races where liberals were lined up against them. Rookie mistake, but we’ll take it.”

Zeramblin laughed. “Doram, Aspire’s up what, 25 or so? By my lights, the liberals picked up something like 40 seats. There was nothing rookie about this. It was cold and calculated.”

“How do you…I only have them up 28,” Jusa said, as they entered the Floor Leader’s dressing room, backstage at the Conservative Campaign’s Victory Rally.

Zeramblin shook his head. “There’s a dozen minority independents who are gonna go over to them, at least, because they liked that the liberal groups were willing to go out and say, ‘Hey, better Royalist than Titan Party.’ You’ve gotta understand the independent psychology. They’re independent because they really believe all that non-partisan, good-of-the-Empire stuff. And Armac just proved that she’s willing to do what she has to in order to help the Empire. If the liberals have anywhere less than 260 seats locked plus another 20 indies, I’ll be shocked.”

Jusa nodded. “Well, assuming you’re right…yeah, they picked up about 20 supportive votes. Mostly from the True Independents – they got obliterated.”

“Course they did,” Zeramblin said. “It’s gonna be an interesting couple of years.”

“Don’t you mean an interesting five years?”

Zeramblin laughed out loud at that. “Oh, frak, not a chance. There is no chance we make it through five years.”

“You don’t think so?”

Zeramblin turned, and shook his head. “Good night for you, Forna. Better night for Lali, though.”

“It’s okay, we’re all on the same team,” Qorni said. “Leave us, Doram.”

“I work for the Floor Leader, Representative,” Jusa said. Zeramblin, however, put up a hand.

“Give us a second, Doram. Forna’s about to threaten me, and I’m about to remind her that even after all this, she still doesn’t have the votes.”

Qorni’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

“Of course, sir,” Doram said, with a smile. He stepped out of the room, and closed the door.

“The conservatives won’t have lost more than five seats overall. Maybe ten if you count independent leaners,” Zeramblin said. “I managed to hold onto the leader position after the 2115 debacle. You aren’t gonna be able to force me out. Maybe if your friends in the Titan Party had done better.”

Qorni’s jaw dropped. “How dare….”

“Oh, please. Don’t patronize me, Forna, I’ve seen you and Lemescu playing footsie. You’ve been careful enough not to let his slime get on you, but there’s no question you’d be in a better position to oust me if we actually needed the Titan Party to make the majority, because you’re right, there is no frakking way I will ever work with them. Not overtly, not tacitly, not to put a fire at my house out if they’re the only ones on Selana with water.”

“They’re right about humans,” Qorni said.

“If the Titan Party is on your side, Forna, you’re probably wrong.”

“Still,” Forna said, “I’ve done the math. There are at least 450 votes for emancipation in the new legislature, and you and I both know that if it’s close, it’s going to be hard for the leaners. The only way for us to block it is to work with the Titan Party, and….”

“Forna, if you want to bring the Titan Party into the coalition, I walk, and I take Empire with me. Willing to bet Tradition and the Royalists will join us. No. Frakking. Way.”

“I’m not saying bring them in. That would blow up the majority, I know, and I am not going to risk that. I’m just saying…maybe we go easy on the anti-Titan Party rhetoric. They’re three percent of the new legislature, we don’t shun them. You actually agree to do the traditional meet-and-greet with them. Maybe replace the black hole banner….”

“Are you cracked?” Zeramblin shouted.

“Symbolic gestures. Nothing serious. No policy changes. Just…symbolism.”

“Symbolism? Okay, Deputy Floor Leader, here’s my offer,” he said, seething. “You move to replace the black hole banner. You make the motion. You whip the vote. You make clear that you are the one pushing it. I won’t take a position either way. And if you get a majority behind it, I promise you, I’ll quit as floor leader. But this is your baby. You want to lead? Have fun.”

Qorni blanched. “Mr. Floor Leader…this needs…I mean….”

“Come on!” Zeramblin shouted. “You think this is such a good frakking idea, you put your arse on the line, Qorni! You want to be floor leader? You want to force me out? Frakking do it!”

Qorni stared at Zeramblin for a good minute, before she said, “You’re the Floor Leader, sir. If you don’t overtly support this, it won’t pass…and I’m not going to commit career suicide to do it.”

“There you go,” Zeramblin said. “Neither am I. Gorram.”

“But the alternative…Rodrec, we owe Armac now, you know. If not for her attacking the Titan Party…we can’t even function. She knows that. Another ten votes for the Titan Party….”

“We’d be able to function, because they wouldn’t let us bring in the Titan Party. If they had to have a grand coalition, they’d do it, if they have to hold their nose and vote for spending, they’d do it. And they know it’s close, they know I’m gonna have my own headaches, so yeah, we’re gonna have to work with Armac to bail us out occasionally, or the government’s gonna fall. Probably both, eventually. Get use to it. This legislature, Liberals will be our allies more often or not, if the fringes will let them. And good, because as I tell everyone, we’re all on the same side here. We all believe in the Empire. Well, almost all of us. Thirty-something of us don’t. And I’ll be frakked if I let those thirty have a sniff of power. Now, as I said – you want to come at me, come at me.”

Qorni knew the math as well as Zeramblin did. “Not gonna commit career suicide.”

“Good,” Zeramblin said.

“But Armac…if she demands passage of the Tarsuss Committee bill….”

“They aren’t coalition partners, for frak’s sake. Armac is minority leader, and they’re still in opposition. And frak, let’s see what the bill looks like before we panic. I’m the one who calls the question in the end, if it’s awful, I’ll send the committee back to work.”

“That may work for a while, but there’s still the dispensation motion working its way through…it’s going to be difficult to keep that from the floor, and if either gets to the floor, there’s a good chance the measure will give humans the vote,” Qorni said. “At least eventually. We have to stop it.”

Zeramblin sighed. “Forna, you’ve got a one-track mind. Tarsuss Committee is just one moving part here. We’re running an Empire. Be more worried about how the minority has us by the short hairs on increasing the room and board credit. We don’t find a way to placate our more moderate members, they’ll join Armac and we won’t have to worry about governing.”

“That’s not the end of the universe. Humans voting…that will end us.”

Zerambiln rubbed a hand over his face. “Gorram, Qorni, you are a barrel of fun. Time enough to worry tomorrow. Go home, grab a drink, have a celebratory frak with your husbands, get some sleep, and be back in the morning. Got a lot of decisions to make, and quick.”

“Yes, Mr. Floor Leader,” she said, quietly.

Zeramblin leaned back, as his closest ally and most bitter enemy departed. Not two seconds later, his pad chirruped; it was his most bitter enemy and closest ally calling.

“Nice night for you,” he said, answering.

“We’re pleased. We outperformed the model, and the Titan Party underperformed it, which is almost as important. Anyhow, Mr. Floor Leader, I’m taking up what I’m told is an Earth custom; I’m calling to concede the election. Your coalition won’t quite be at a majority, but clearly, you’re close enough to form the government. We’re not going to try to obstruct you in that process.”

“That’s an Earth custom?” Zeramblin said.

“An old tradition. Losing candidate calls to congratulate the winner. After all, as someone once told me, in the end we’re all on the same side. Except for the bastards in the Titan Party.”

“Indeed. I like it. And not just because I’m the one taking the call. Madam Minority Leader, I mean it when I say it’s a nice night for you, and as I have in the past, I hope to work with the minority to make sure that your concerns are addressed. Won’t promise to address them all in the way you’d like, of course.”

“Of course,” Loona said. “But I appreciate it, and look forward to working with you, Mr. Floor Leader.”

“Likewise, Madam Minority Leader,” Zeramblin said. “It should be an interesting few years.”

“You think you can hold it together that long?” Loona asked, with a smile.

“Doubt it,” Zeramblin said. “But we shall see.”

* * *

2163 AD
૨૧૨૫ MA

“He’s growing up too damn fast, you know,” Ted said, watching his nephew play in the yard. He was enjoying the very, very brief respite in his busy schedule, and enjoying it more given that Tig was with him, albeit in holographic form; though Mike and Imani had said there was room on the farm, both Tig and Ted had decided that it was best if she didn’t accidentally wipe out half of her in-laws’ crops.

He was going to miss this. Not that he got here often enough, but the Avalon mission was next; that would be a full year away – five months out, two months there, five months back, even assuming the upgrade to a level seven shell was durable. If it wasn’t – well, at level six, it was over a year out. And while Tig could drop by to pick them up in about an hour, the JTSA was resolute – they would only ask for help if there was no other option. The Alcubierre was carrying two years’ worth of oxygen, and eighteen months’ rations. If they could survive it, they’d make it work.

“They tend to do that,” Mike said, taking a swallow from a bottle of beer. “Though I gather yours will be slower, whenever it happens.”

“About one-third speed, or so I’m told,” Ted said. “It’s weird. I’m aging slower, I guess…have Titan genes mixed in now. Feel like I should feel different.”

“Well, in twenty years, I bet you will,” Mike said.

“I’m serious,” Ted said, dropping his voice just a bit, “when I say I can get you this treatment, if you want….I mean, it’s not legal to export it, but….”

Mike chuckled. “Not sure I want to live to be 400, Ted, and even if I do…well, ask any 150-year-old if they expected to be 150, and they’ll be pretty clear that they didn’t. Rate things are going, I may outlive you, even without the gene-splicing.”

Ted shook his head. “Living longer…that isn’t what this is about, at all.”

“Nope,” Mike said. “It’s about you having one of them,” he said, gesturing to his son. “And that’s worth it. Anything you’ve gotta do is worth it. Nothing better, not even walking on Tau Ceti e. Though that has to be pretty close.”

“If they’re anywhere in the same range,” Ted said, “I should probably just give in next time Tig tells me we should start trying. Now, we should go in. Tig just messaged me, she’ll have dinner delivered to her right on….”

Ted trailed off, as he watched an automobile driving itself down the dirt road that led to the farm. It wasn’t family, and it wasn’t friends – family was all here, and friends would have called first.

“Get Harry inside,” Ted said, hopping down from the fence. “And be prepared to call the sheriff.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s either military or it’s someone I don’t want my nephew to run into. Maybe both,” Ted said, idly picking up a rock from the ground and weighing it.

“My property. Not abandoning my little brother to some thugs.”

“Doubt they’re thugs. But better safe than sorry. And you’ve got a son to worry about, Mike.”

Miguel sighed, and said, “Keep your gool open, or let me know it’s safe. I have a hunting rifle if it comes down to it.”

“Let’s try not to kill anyone,” Ted said, facing the vehicle. “At least, if we don’t have to.”

“Kill? Naw,” Mike said. “Injure, maybe. Hey, sport! Come on in, let’s help your mom and yayo get dinner around.”

Ted took a few steps down the road, and waited as the vehicle ground to a halt. He braced himself for a moment as the door opened, then looked quizzically at the person getting out. He was a tall black man, maybe in his thirties, thin and lanky, wearing a weather-beaten leather jacket and a battered fedora – though they were weather-beaten and battered in an intentional way, as if they’d been selected just for that look.

Ted blinked. He recognized this guy. Some kind of reporter.

Well, this was great.

“You’re a difficult man to track down, Capt. Martínez,” the man said, walking toward him.

“There’s a good reason for that,” Ted said. “I don’t like to be tracked down.”

“Lennox McClure. I’m a reporter for BuzzFeed.”

“Good for you. Press inquiries should go through JTSA Houston. I have no comment, and you’re trespassing on my brother’s land. Have a good evening.”

“Your wife is a Titan,” McClure said, as Ted turned and headed back to the house.

“She is,” Ted said, over his shoulder. “Lots of coverage of the wedding. Even in BuzzFeed! You could read it if you’re bored. Good evening.”

“Does she own you? Are you her pet, legally?”

Ted stumbled, just slightly.

“You’d have to be, I suppose. Not much choice. Are you happy being a pet?”

Ted stopped, and turned slowly, and faced the reporter. The sun was setting behind him, casting a long shadow that reached almost all the way to the Alcubierre’s captain.

“I have enough to run the story,” McClure said. “Nobody’s gone on the record, but I’ve got two construction workers from Titan Station who’ve affirmed it. I could file it tonight. But I promised one source I’d get the whole story, and I must admit, before I write it, I have to know how a man who has walked on Titan, Alpha Centauri B d, Tau Ceti e, who’s planning to fly to freaking Avalon – how he could also be okay with being a companion animal.”

Ted smiled, tightly. “You’ve got jack, or you wouldn’t have come all the way from New York to the Willamette Valley in the hopes I’d be here.”

“Toronto.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m based out of Toronto.”

“Your hockey team sucks, and you’ve still got nothing.”

“I’ve got enough to tell the world how awful the Titans are,” McClure said. “Enough to scare the bejesus out of the entire damn planet. And if that’s the story you want me to run, I can run it.”

Ted looked at the man carefully. He’d played a lot of poker – not much to do when you’re on a relativistic ship on a ballistic trajectory to Mars or Saturn, or for that matter, a superluminal one en route to Tau Ceti. He’d learned to read people, very well.

If McClure was bluffing, he had a hell of a poker face.

“What makes you think I’d be willing to talk to someone who wants to slur my wife’s entire species?”

“Capt. Martínez, I don’t think you’d be married to a Titan if they were all evil. I told you, I promised one of my sources that I’d get the full story. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

Ted sighed, and turned away from the reporter for a moment. He could see Libra rising to the East, and tracing down, he saw the faint glow of Saturn.

“Mr. McClure,” Ted said, turning back, “I live on Titan Station, when I’m not in transit to somewhere else in this universe of ours. I get home to see my family maybe three times a year. These times are sacred to me.”

“I’m sure,” McClure said. “Which is why I won’t take….”

“Which is why you’re going to meet me in Portland in two days’ time,” Ted said. “You tell me where you’re staying, I’ll meet you there. Have an autocab to Prometheus Station scheduled for four; I’ll have a few hours to talk.”

McClure shook his head. “And why should I trust you’ll meet with me?”

“You don’t have to. But you were willing to come to my brother’s farm to track me down. I’m willing to bet you’ll wait two more days, and if I don’t show, you’ll be able to write that Ted Martínez flat lied to you instead of answering your questions, and that’s all the confirmation you need, isn’t it?”

“I still don’t….”

“I will go on the record,” Ted said.

McClure blinked. “You….”

“You said it yourself, nobody else has. I will. Oh, I’m going to ask that you hear me out, and that you are willing to maybe wait to publish, at least until you talk to a few more people – but then, you’ll be happy to once I tell you who they are. But my interview will be on the record, Mr. McClure.”

“And what if I say no, talk to me now?”

“Then the only quote you get for attribution is that you’re a fool, and I have no further comment.”

McClure nodded. “I’m flashing you my hotel information now. Noon, two days from now.”

“Right,” Ted said. “Now, go. My brother and papá have been teaching my sister-in-law how to make tamales. I’ve been looking forward to this for months. I’m not going to miss it.”

Ted walked toward the house, and waited for the vehicle to turn around before he placed the call. It took a few moments before it was answered.

“Admiral,” Ted said, quietly, “we’ve got a serious situation.”

* * *

Jota Cesil took a sip of kapskrasi, and turned to the man sitting across from him. “So what have you found?”

“We have made contact,” Scylane Rimosi said, “with a group of like-minded individuals within the Empire.”

“Solis’s backers?” Cesil asked.

“Yes, Poron. It’s a surprisingly small group, though I gather it’s rather smaller than it was before he blew it, and it’s likely there are others who were not keen on revealing themselves. But it’s no matter; they put me in touch with a far more interesting group.”

“Who’s that?”

“The Insectoids,” Rimosi said, with a shake of his head. “And I know, Poron, and I agree – the Insectoids are worse than the humans ever could be. But times of difficulty lead to difficult alliances, and they have…well, quite an interest in Earth, you know.”

“They see it as delicious, anyhow,” Cesil said. “And frak Earth. They can have it, which I assume is what you told them?”

“Well, I did, though I’m not sure they understand exactly. They’re never quite sure what to make of Titans working against Titans. But my understanding is that they would be quite happy if we were to create a distraction over the status of humans, and work to end the defense of Earth.”

“Sure, fine, how does that help us?” Cesil asked.

“Immediately? It doesn’t, but they would be potential allies should we need to battle for our freedom; the Federation won’t want a one-front war. Give them a two-front war…well, last time they had to choose whether to fight the insects or a breakaway Titan group, they let the bluefaces go.”

“That is true,” Cesil said. “And I suppose we’re playing the long game, aren’t we?”

“We are, Poron.”

Cesil smiled. “And our allies? The Titan ones?”

“They will provide us some media support, when the time comes, and possibly some military support as well…though we saw how well that worked before.”

Cesil drummed his fingers. “Not enough, you know.”

“Not enough for us to win a full-scale war. But enough to buy us time. Enough to allow us to fortify our borders with Kaeda, enough to allow us to dig in. There will be dissention when we announce nullification, there will be disagreement – not just there, but here. Better we get prepared before confusion sets in. If done right, the fleet won’t be able to come over the border without facing fierce resistance, and that will be something they will choose to avoid. And when the time is right, we should tell them that.”

Cesil nodded. “When the time is right. Of course, you know that they may not choose to avoid it.”

“Better that we are ready, then,” Scylane said. “You know far better than I do, Poron…if this happens, and especially if Earth comes in…when that happens, Titans will no longer be a majority in our own Empire. We have done marvelous things, but there will be no more, for there will be no ‘we’ left. Titan culture will die, slowly strangled by the others. It will not be out of malice – they do not hate us. But they are not us, and they do not care about our ways. If Titan culture dies, what is the point of surviving?”

“Well said. Our heritage is at stake here. We protect the gorram bluefaces, but we can’t spare a thought to protecting ourselves.”

“Protecting others is our strength. It is also our weakness.”

“Indeed,” Cesil said. “Have you told your mother any of this, Councilor?”

“No, Poron. Should I?”

“No,” Cesil said. “Let’s keep this between you and me for now. You do realize that we may have to suspend civil liberties here at some point?”

“Of course,” Scylane said. “We must do whatever we must to preserve order, Poron.”

“Indeed. I did not realize, Scylane, but you are truly a child of the Federation. Perhaps, someday, you shall be its guide.”

“Perhaps, sir,” Scylane said, bowing his head slightly, “but someday. For now, this Federation is guided true.”

“Thank you,” Cesil said. He knew well that Scylane Rimosi could stab him in the back tomorrow; he also knew that his willingness to do so could make him a great Guide one day. It was the quality his mother lacked. She was willing to be placated. When the time came, Scylane would move.

Unless Cesil moved first, of course, and he would – but not before Rimosi had outlived his usefulness.

* * *

Two days later, at precisely noon Pacific Daylight Time, Ted Martínez knocked on the door of the hotel suite.

“Last chance,” he said. “You could derez, he’d never know it.”

“No,” Tig said, quietly. “How many bad times have we been through together? You would go to Rura Penthe with me. I can answer questions,” she said. “It is my people who have something to answer for. Not yours.”

“Your people, maybe,” Ted said. “But not you, Tig.” He squeezed her holographic hand, and smiled at her. “Not you.”

The door opened, and McClure said, “Captain, I am glad you are a man of your….”

He stopped when he saw Tigoni. “Well,” he said. “Wasting no time.”

“No,” Ted said. Mr. McClure, this is my wife, Decurion Tigoni Belfsec, Titan Station Imperial Joint Facilities Liaison. Tig, this is Lennox McClure, the guy who tried to interrupt dinner the other night.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” McClure said, though Tig noticed his hand was shaking, just a bit, as he shook hers. “You must be using holograms.”

“Obviously,” Ted said. “So, Mr. McClure, we doing this here?”

“Yes, yes,” Lennox said, inviting them in. “Please, sit down. I am recording…now.”

“Good,” Ted said, sitting down, and putting an arm around Tig’s shoulder. (He did this reflexively, whenever she was using a human-sized avatar. He didn’t get to do it much; he always tried to take advantage of the opportunity when he had it. As did Tig.)

“So, I asked you the other day…does your wife own you?”

“Let’s back up,” Tig said. Ted smiled; she was speaking in lightly-accented English, rather than using her translator. She’d done so specifically so that her idioms would match up, and she wouldn’t say anything she didn’t mean. “First, don’t you want us to…uh…confirm that humans are held as pets?”

“Yes, sure,” Lennox said. Then sighing, as he saw Tig was waiting for the question, he said, “Are humans held as pets in the Empire?”

“Yes,” Tigoni said, evenly. “They are. And saying for myself, it is terrible, and will, Aшмoκpαм wεyixα, be ended very soon.”

“Speaking for yourself – so your opinion is not the Empire’s?”

“Mr. McClure….This interview does not have to be…uh…against?”

“Adversarial, I think,” Ted said.

“Adversarial,” Tig repeated. “We are going to tell the truth. But I can not say for the Empire or the Military. I am not…uh… εжvxoшo?”

“Authorized,” Ted prompted.

“Ah yes. Authorized to,” Tig said, then muttered, =Eк экεyv zαyεмxα ziэ zαмv Vyαyα)=

“Huh?”

“She’s just complaining about her English, which is fine, Tig,” Ted said, with a smile. =Kpotf ҍfαδ απo ‡um‡ мαzα Apкαшjop)=

“Your Archavian is gooder…better…all the time,” Tig sighed. =Kεzδεnnэшαpop αtмi)= she said, then said, “I’ve turned my translator on. Unfortunately, it doesn’t appear my English is quite ready for an interview. I understand you fine, but…well, I can’t explain myself well enough yet. Mr. McClure, if anything I’ve said was unclear, let me reiterate: Yes, humans are held as pets. I cannot speak for the Empire, but speaking for myself…it is a horrible crime.”

“I understand, and understood before,” Lennox said. “It would be nice to talk to someone who could speak for the Empire, but…”

“You will,” Ted said. “In a few hours, in fact. Ambassador Bass has asked us to escort you to Nevada to meet with her.”

Lennox’s eyes went wide. “Ambassador…Bass?”

“Look,” Ted said, “I am hoping that you will find it in your heart to bury this story once you hear us all out, as is Ambassador Bass, President Thornton, the Secretary General…pretty much everyone is of the opinion that it’s best to wait with this. But you’re going to do what you’re going to do, so we’re going to get you the information you want. When we’re done with this initial interview, come with us to Nevada, and you’ll get the opportunity to interview the Imperial Ambassador. On the record.”

“And if I don’t want to go?”

Ted shrugged. “Well, you don’t have to, but Ambassador Bass will have her evening free and every news outlet on Earth interested in interviewing her.”

Lennox smiled, and shook his head. Could be a bluff, he supposed, but it didn’t really matter; there was no way he could turn this down, and Martínez knew it. “I certainly wouldn’t want that. However…well, you just confirmed the Empire owns humans as pets. I doubt they’d have much compunction should a pet die….”

“You haven’t met Ambassador Bass. She’d rather tear off her right arm,” Ted said. “But I understand. I’ll be accompanying you the entire way, and I can promise you, if I don’t show up for work, the JTSA will not take it well.” Ted said. “Now, go ahead and ask us what you want to ask us.”

“Is Decanus Belfsec your owner?”

“No,” Ted said. “Though if we were both going to move to the Empire, I’d probably choose to have her declare ownership of me, as a legal protection. We have other friends who are in mixed relationships; they have paper owners, or are paper owners, but only to comply with the law and provide legal protections.”

“One of the reasons I wanted to get married on Earth,” Tigoni said, “is to make sure that we did not have to do this. I don’t want to own Ted, at least, not any more than spouses own each other. There are worlds that are more tolerant, and where we could both go safely; my sister’s home, Azatlia, for instance,” Tig said. “But even there…well, until the law changes, I’d prefer she visit us on Titan Station.”

“The upcoming trip to Avalon, then,” McClure said. “You’re crossing through Titan space. That has to concern you.”

“Well, I’m not sure I won’t be technically owned by Tig before I leave,” Ted said with a tight smile, “though I have faith in the Imperial Military. The Empire is generally guaranteeing the free movement of Terran ships given clearance to travel in Imperial space, and that includes their crews on EVA.”

“And what of the other Terrans who live in the Empire, like Dr. Freeman, or the owner of the restaurant chain, um….”

“Alex Carey. Yeah, it’s…their status is complicated. Probably, if it came down to it, they could ask for similar status, but they’ve held back on demanding it for now, not least because they have many friends who can’t. They’re pursuing human liberation, they don’t want a multi-tiered system of lesser oppressions.”

“Understandable,” McClure said. “Now, Decanus…I’m curious. How can you marry someone your people see as an animal?” Lennox asked Tig.

“Well, first, my parents raised me to do the right thing even when everyone else was wrong.”

“She’s not kidding,” Ted said. “At all.”

“I’m sure you aren’t complaining, Teodoro.”

“I am eternally grateful for your insubordination, honey.”

“As am I. Mr. McClure, my people are wrong,” Tig said. “The law is wrong. Ted is as much a man as anyone I have ever met. More of a man, really,” she said. “And in truth, we know that. The Lem and the Alcubierre are ships that only an intelligent species could develop. If there were any doubts, those have erased them for a majority of Imperial citizens.”

“Support for emancipation of humans has been building in the Empire for a generation,” Ted added. “The government is working through the logistics of granting humans citizenship. I’ll admit, this is more Ambassador Bass’s area of expertise than mine, but within a decade, they think, humans will be recognized as Class One Sentient Beings, and the whole pet thing will go away.”

“I’ve heard this from others I’ve interviewed. So why not just say that?”

“Because people hear ‘pets,’” Tig said, softly, “and don’t want to hear more than that. I know. And I understand. When Ted and I first met…well, he didn’t like being told he was viewed as a pet.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ted said. “But she didn’t set up the system, and neither did I. And from the first, Tig treated me as a person. But, um….”

Ted swallowed hard. “Not everyone I met at first did. And there are still those who don’t, though they don’t show up at Titan Station very often.”

“That even one person doesn’t see Ted for the person he is…believe me, Mr. Lennox, I am not here to defend my people’s position. I have hope that we are improving. I have hope we will get to that point. We have not reached it yet.”

“I appreciate that, and I appreciate your candor. So tell me,” Lennox said, “because I don’t know if we’ve heard the whole story. How exactly did you two meet?”

Tig laughed, and looked over at her husband. “Well that…that is a long story,” she said.