of a better word. It consists of letters from their alphabet, though, not numbers like ours, and their alphabet is complicated. This ima, for example, is a shortened version of ilyo-mera-apth. Roughly translated that’s the numbers 40, plus 1 or forty-one. That number represents the individual’s admission to the family unit. Then once new members leave or are admitted, the letters—numbers—will shift accordingly. So 41 might become 42 when a new member is added and so on. If someone leaves or dies, it would go in the other direction, so it would become 40. That’s the best way I can describe it anyway. Their names or designations change according to the number of people in their family unit.”
“That’s right,” Setin confirmed. “When I met my Gatifreyan, they were Log-ima. I always called them that, though it changed a couple of times. Log-ima gave up on correcting me. Said I was too stupid to learn better.”
Larz looked thoughtful. “So their designation is the family name—which is also their profession or interest or whatever—and then their order in the family unit.”
Setin nodded. “That’s as near as I could ever figure out, yes, sir.”
Larz looked back at Setin with interest. “Where is your mate now?”
“Dead,” he said flatly. “Died almost ten cycles ago now. The family is still on Gatifrey.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. How did your mate die?” Janos asked.
“Old age,” Setin said, matter-of-factly. “They were almost fifty in their years, which are more like Alliance than Axis. And that’s an advanced age for their species.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Janos replied, and Setin nodded, smiling a little sadly. “Log-ima was a good person. Gods, they loved a good fight, and loved to give me a hard time, but I still miss them.”
Janos sat forward a little, seeming to be interested in Setin. “Were you with them until the end?”
“Yes, though I was still traveling at the time of their death. I was a trader, so I had to leave now and then on trading junkets. Log-ima understood, I think. We were together for over five cycles, which is long for a Lura mate. Their other family was with them when…uh, the time came. I didn’t find out about it until I returned.”
Janos shook his head sorrowfully. “That’s so sad.”
A respectful little silence fell over the room, though Rasc thought Larz was mostly just indulging his softer-hearted mate. He and Bonnett seemed anxious to move on. Philistines, as his stepmother used to say. Mostly when she had been talking about him, actually.
It was funny. His stepmother and he hadn’t been close in any kind of way, but it still came as a shock to hear of her disappearance. She had always been so larger than life. Plus, he’d known her since he was only five years old, and she was the nearest thing to a mother figure he remembered. He’d never been able to find out exactly what had happened to her after the siege of New Chicago. She’d probably been one of the many casualties in the calamity that had lasted for seventeen months, perpetrated because the Alliance generals in charge of the city refused to surrender, even though people soon began dying in great numbers. A Tygerian general set up siege lines and cut off all traffic in and out of the city. The stranglehold lasted until—reeling from starvation and disease—the town’s leaders raised a white flag and begged for peace. By that time, it was too late for more than a third of the city’s residents.
His father was long dead too, another casualty in one nameless battle or another. The end of the war came while Rasc was on Gatifrey, his last duty station. He had decided to remain there for a while after the peace treaty was signed. Mostly because it was far from the influence of the hated Axis, which had already begun occupying Earth. And because he really had nothing left for him back home anyway.
So Rasc stayed on Gatifrey, living with a fellow soldier-slash-lover he’d called Lal-lo, which was as close as he could get to their real name, which was something like Lal-shnt-hz-lo. Or Lal-lo, as he’d nicknamed them for short. The language on Gatifrey was mostly unpronounceable to him, with few vowel sounds and sentence structure you sometimes just had to memorize, but he was able by the end of the war to reproduce a few words and phrases and he understood a bit more.
“What about you, Centarlo?” Bonnett’s voice came from beside him, startling