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little courage they have may gather in the shadows.”
    Reinhard looked at his aide-de-camp and gave a low, amused laugh. “You’re still the same old worrier. But there’s nothing to fret about. Even though they’re full of grievances now, that situation will change in a single day. And I’ll show that idiot Staden a framed copy of the ‘track record’ he loves so much.”
    Saying that he’d had enough of such talk, Reinhard rose from his chair and invited Kircheis to come to his cabin for a break. “Let’s have a drink, Kircheis. I’ve got some good wine. It’s supposed to be a rare 410 vintage.”
    “That sounds wonderful.”
    “Well, then, let’s go. And by the way, Kircheis—”
    “Yes, Excellency?”
    “That ‘Excellency’ thing. There’s no need to go around calling me that when nobody else is with us. Talk to me like you always have.”
    “I understand what you’re saying, but—”
    “If you understand it, then do it. Because when this battle is over and we return to Odin, people will be calling you ‘Excellency’ as well.”
    Kircheis said nothing.
    “You’ll be promoted to commodore. Look forward to it.”
    Leaving the bridge to Captain Reuschner, Reinhard set out for his private room. Following behind him, Kircheis ruminated over what his commanding officer had said to him.
    When this battle is over and we return, you’ll be made a commodore … It seemed that defeat wasn’t in the young, blond-haired admiral’s mind at all. To anyone but Kircheis, those words would surely be taken for hopeless arrogance. But Kircheis knew that Reinhard had only been speaking out of affection for a dear friend.
    A thought suddenly occurred to Kircheis: Has it already been ten years since we first met? In meeting Reinhard and his sister Annerose, his destiny had changed forever.
    Siegfried Kircheis’s father was a minor official who worked in the Ministry of Justice. Harried about every day by bosses, paperwork, and computers, he earned forty thousand imperial marks a year. He was a kind, ordinary man whose only two pleasures were raising some sort of Baldurian orchid in his narrow garden and drinking black beer after dinner. As for his little redheaded son, the boy somehow managed to dangle at the lower edge of the honor roll at school, was a powerhouse in sports, and was his parents’ pride and joy.
    One day, a man and his two children moved into the house next door, which had been as good as abandoned.
    Young Kircheis had been shocked when he first heard that the dispirited, middle-aged man was of the aristocracy, but when he saw the golden-haired brother and sister, he believed it. They’re so beautiful! he had thought.
    The next day, he met the younger brother. The boy named Reinhard was the same age as Kircheis, born only two months later according to the standard Space Era calendar. When the red-haired boy gave his name, the blond-haired boy’s well-shaped eyebrows had shot upward.
    “Siegfried? What a vulgar name.”
    At such an unexpected reply, the red-haired boy had been shocked and at a loss for how to reply.
    Then Reinhard had continued, adding, “But Kircheis is a good last name. Very poetic. So I’ve decided to call you by your last name.”
    On the other hand, his elder sister Annerose had abbreviated his given name, calling him “Sieg.” The features of her face bore a strong resemblance to those of her younger brother but were a step more delicate, and her faint little smile was infinitely gentle. When introduced to her by Reinhard, she had given him a smile that was like dappled sunlight streaming through the trees.
    “Sieg, please be a good friend to my brother.”
    From that day until now, Kircheis had obeyed her request faithfully.
    A lot had happened since then. One day, a luxurious landcar that Kircheis had never seen before stopped in front of the house next door, and a middle-aged man wearing fine clothes stepped out. All through the night, the tearful voice of the