“Terra,” his father corrected his wife gently.
“Humans call it Earth now, actually,” Harry said, desperately trying to think of a good reason. He was afraid “It’s Adam birthday” wouldn’t be accepted as a good enough reason. Long-distance teleportation to a planet half a galaxy away was very resource-consuming and expensive, even for the direct heirs of grand clans like Harry, but it wasn’t the only reason people couldn’t use it on a whim. Earth was a pre-TNIT planet; any visits to pre-TNIT planets were regulated by the Ministry of Intergalactic Affairs. Generally, only one trip a year was allowed per individual.
“Answer the question, Harht’ngh’chaali,” his mother said.
He suddenly hated the sound of his own name. It sounded so pretentious. Unfortunately, the more highborn one was, the longer their name got. Harry liked human names so much better.
But he wasn’t human. He seemed to have forgotten that.
“I’d like you to call me Harry,” Harry said, looking down.
“Harry,” his mother repeated flatly.
Harry nodded. “I got used to the name while I was on Earth.”
“It’s kind of... barbaric, dear,” Queen Tamirs said.
“I think it’s charming,” Zahef said.
His wife shot him a sour look. Zahef smiled at her innocently. Harry almost laughed. People always said he was a lot like his father, and at times like this, he could see where they were coming from, even though he was the spitting image of his mother.
“Don’t be foolish, Zahef’ngh’chaali,” his mother told his father. “Harry sounds as simple and barbaric as the names of renegades.”
Harry scrunched up his nose.
“It’s not at all like their names,” Harry said, although he had no idea whether it was true or not. He’d never met a renegade before. “There were human kings called Harry!”
His mother heaved a long-suffering sigh, but Harry knew he’d won.
“Very well—Harry,” she said. “Now, will you finally tell us why you want to go back to Sol III?”
Harry shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t have the time to say goodbye to my friends.”
“Friends?” his mother said, her eyebrows flying up. “You made human friends?”
“Why are you saying it as if humans are some sort of animals?” Harry said defensively. “It’s not very long before they invent interstellar travel.”
“Darling,” Queen Tamirs started carefully.
Harry hated, hated, hated it when his mother called him “darling”—it always sounded so condescending, even if it wasn’t his mother’s intention.
“Darling, by the latest estimates, humans are at least a thousand years away from developing their equivalent of the TNIT,” his mother said.
“They’ll develop spaceships much sooner than that, though,” his father, bless him, cut in. “Perhaps in five hundred years.”
“Spaceships are an obsolete technology,” Queen Tamirs said with a scoff. “Too slow and ineffective. They don’t count. In any case, I don’t see why you would want to be friends with members of such a… young civilization.”
“Don’t Gul’barshyn’s teachings say that pride is a sin?” Harry said pointedly.
A faint blush appeared on his mother’s cheekbones.
His father started laughing, earning a flat look from his wife.
“Very good, Harry,” his father said, grinning.
Queen Tamirs didn’t look amused in the least. “Harht’ngh’chaali,” she started.
“Harry,” Harry corrected her.
“Harry,” his mother conceded, looking pained. “You were sent to Sol III as punishment for your gross violation of another person’s mental privacy—”
“I was curious and she’s my sister, not just some random person!” Harry said, sulkily. “Sanyash shouldn’t have teased me. She knows I can’t resist secrets.”
“You were sent to Sol III as punishment for your gross violation of another person’s privacy,” his mother repeated, as if he’d said nothing. “It wasn’t a touristic trip. You were meant to learn humility, to learn that your familial links are a privilege, not something to be abused because you’re curious.” His mother gave him a look. “You weren’t sent to Sol III to make friends with humans. Therefore, I see no reason for you to go back. You wish to say goodbye to your... friends? What would you say, in any case? Humans think extraterrestrial life doesn’t exist. You would have to lie to explain your departure.”
Harry’s shoulders sagged. The worst part was, he knew his mother was right. He couldn’t explain to Adam where he was going or why they couldn’t even talk on the phone. But—but—
Harry looked at his father pleadingly.
“Maybe it’s for the best, Son,” his father said gently.
Harry turned around and left the study before he could burst into tears, like the big baby he apparently still was.
He strode toward his rooms, his vision blurring and chest painfully tight as he imagined Adam coming home to an empty flat on his birthday.
How long would Adam wait for him before realizing that Harry was never coming back?
CHAPTER 9
The flat was empty. Harry wasn’t hiding anywhere in order to surprise him with the happy birthday song as Adam had half-expected when he’d come home.
Harry wasn’t anywhere.