"The two-letter abbreviation thing is actually pretty common across the Orion Arm," Jack said, thinking back again. The critic who'd jumped all over One-Four-Seven had called him Onfose. So that made Nionei—"So Nionei is Nine-One-Eight?"
"That would appear to be the pattern," Draycos agreed.
On a hunch, Jack flipped open his notebook again. "Looks like our friend Nionei is an upright," he said. "I wonder what they are."
"I don't know," Draycos said. "But the direction I was going with this—"
"Jupa," Jack said as it suddenly hit him.
"Exactly," Draycos said. "If they're following their usual pattern, Jupa is likely a contraction of two words: Ju something and Pa something."
Jack ran the two syllables through his mind. But nothing leaped out at him. "Sorry," he said. "But I already told you I don't know the first thing about mining."
"Jupa Jack?" a voice called.
Jack turned to see another Golvin hurrying toward him, a paper-wrapped bundle clutched in his hands. "I have brought you your attire," he said, panting a little as he trotted to a halt. "I do not know if it will fit—Jupa Stuart was somewhat taller than you. I will adjust it later if it does not."
"Thank you," Jack said, frowning as he unwrapped the paper and pulled out the items one by one. On top was a light gray robe with vertical pleats equipped with a wide black sash fastened with a brushed silver clasp. Next came a black sleeveless duster with angled royal blue stripes on the shoulders and sleeves. Tall gray boots of some soft material were wrapped in a package of their own; and between them, also in its own paper wrapping—
Jack's breath froze in his lungs as he stared down at the black-and-royal-blue hat folded neatly in its packaging. Part tricorne and part biretta, the old description ran through his numbed mind. Part tricorne and part biretta . . .
"Jupa Jack?" the Golvin asked into his thoughts.
"Yes," Jack managed, forcing his mind back to the present. "Yes. Go ahead and take the—take everything back to my apartment. Except this," he added, snatching the hat as the Golvin started to close up the paper.
"As you wish, Jupa Jack," the Golvin said. "There will be a dinner in your honor at the twelfth hour, two hours from now, at the Great Assembly Hall."
Jack forced moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. "Fine."
The Golvin made as if to say something else, apparently thought better of it, and headed back toward the pillars.
"Jack?" Draycos asked quietly, his voice anxious.
"I'm all right," Jack said, gazing down at the hat cupped in his hands. "I just . . ." He took a deep breath. "This is it, Draycos. This is the hat I remember my parents wearing."
The K'da shifted on his skin, and Jack felt a slight pressure against his shirt as the gold-scaled head pressed against the material for a better look. "Are you certain?"
"Absolutely," Jack said, memories flashing once again across his mind. "I actually had one of them for a year or so until Uncle Virgil found it and took it away."
"And he told you it was a miner's helmet?"
"Yes," Jack said, frowning. "But it can't be, can it?"
"Unlikely," Draycos said. "The material is too soft for protection against dangerous impacts."
"Unless it's a topside boss's hat," Jack suggested.
"It does indeed look like a symbol of authority," Draycos said. "But you said Uncle Virgil had told you specifically that your parents were miners."
"Right, he did," Jack admitted. "Anyway, how could they have been killed in a mine explosion if they were topside bosses? So Uncle Virgil lied. Wouldn't be the first time. But if it's not a miner's helmet, what is it?"
"We know that the job of Jupa involves decisions of some sort," Draycos said. "As well as Golvins in a group speaking their sides. Could it be some sort of mediator or arbitrator?"
"That would fit with Onfose's ham-handed attempt to cozy up to me," Jack agreed. "And if your Golvin naming theory is right, it starts with Ju and Pa."
And for the second time in two minutes Jack felt his breath catch. He held the hat up, staring at it as if seeing it for the first time. Which, in a sense, he was. "Ju Pa, Draycos. Judge-Paladin.
"My parents were members of the highest-ranking judicial group in the entire Orion Arm."
Draycos stared out through the opening in Jack's shirt, gazing at the hat with new respect. He had always thought Jack's character was out of balance with that of the thief who had raised him. The logical solution was that his parents had instilled their values in him before their deaths.
But for Jack to have come from this kind of heritage was a twist he'd never expected. "That's incredible," he murmured. "How could Uncle Virgil have kept such a secret from you all these years?"
"Easily," Jack said, still sounding a little dazed. "All my book learning came from the Essenay's computer." Beneath his flattened body, Draycos felt the boy's muscles tighten again. "Essenay. 'S and A.' Stuart and Ariel."
"Exactly as Alison suggested back on Rho Scorvi," Draycos reminded him.
"I'm sure she'll love hearing she was right about that," Jack said. "I wonder what my real last name is. Anyway, like I was saying, everything I ever learned about the Judge-Paladins came from the Essenay's computer. It would have been easy enough for Uncle Virgil to delete any pictures from the ship's encyclopedias."
"Yes," Draycos murmured. "I know you've mentioned Judge-Paladins before, I believe in conjunction with the ongoing slave trade. But you've never told me exactly who and what they are."
"It's not a secret," Jack said, turning the hat over in his hands. "They were the Internos answer to the lack of courts and proper judges in some of the less populated worlds. Kind of like the old circuit riders they used to have back on Earth. They'd travel from planet to planet, region to region, dealing with whatever cases had accumulated since the last time they'd been there."
"What went wrong?"
Jack shrugged. "Nothing, as far as I know, except that there aren't nearly enough of them to go around. It started as just a human thing, like I said, on just the Internos worlds. But a lot of the alien governments in the rest of the Trade Association decided they liked the idea, and the Judge-Paladin project was extended to pretty much the whole Orion Arm. They fly around in these—"
He broke off with a snort. "In these really high-class ships with InterWorld transmitters and high-level P/S personality simulator computers," he went on. "Blast it all—Alison was right again. The Essenay really is way out of Uncle Virgil's class."
"Which leads to the question of how he acquired it," Draycos said.
And immediately wished he'd kept his jaws shut. There was one obvious answer as to how a thief and con man like Virgil Morgan might have done that, and at the moment it wasn't a possibility Draycos really wanted to burden Jack with.
Fortunately, Jack's own thoughts were already headed off in an entirely different direction. "Which leads me to the question of how come Alison's so smart," he growled. "Way too smart for someone who claims she's just running cons on mercenary groups."
"Perhaps there is more to her than we know," Draycos murmured.
"Bet on that, buddy." Jack looked up at the sky above them. "I just wonder what she's doing back there all alone with my ship."
"Uncle Virge answers to you, not her," Draycos reminded him. "What I don't understand is why your parents were not missed."
"I don't know," Jack said. "Maybe their schedule was random enough that no one could pin down where they'd been when they disappeared." He hissed between his teeth. "Or maybe no one tried very hard."