Grayson rolled his eyes and flipped the menu open. Sashimi, sushi, kimbap, udon, ramen, bulgogi, all the standard fare on the left side. But the right…
The page was marked with the blunt, intersecting lines of Loaish. Even the numbers were incomprehensible to Grayson.
“I’ve never seen so much Loaish before,” Grayson murmured. “I mean, I see signs and warnings and stuff, but…”
“It’s getting rarer with each generation,” Keld agreed quietly. “And as more humans come to Paeil.”
Grayson winced. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? It was our choice to come here, and our choice to use your species to save ours.” Keld shrugged. “If anything,I’msorry.”
“Still… I’d hate to see the Mer lose even more of their home…”
Something shifted in Keld’s gaze. Grayson stared back, trying in vain to read it.
“There’s an initiative,” the Alpha said at last. “Over on the Southeast Asian Mermade Islands. They’re working on a proposal to make Loaish an international second language, for both humans and Mer.”
“Seriously?” The mental rainclouds lifted from Grayson’s mind. “That’s a great idea! I think we tried that once though…”
“You did. The difference is, Esperanto had no native speakers and no real reason for people to need to learn it. With Mer islands all over the world, and the integration between ourspecies, there’s a lot more motivation for people to pick up Loaish.”
Grayson brightened. “I hope that’s true.”
Before Keld could respond, their server returned.
“What can I get for you?” she asked politely. She was a nondescript human woman, though Grayson didn’t think serving jobs were part of the Omega work program. It was always intriguing to spot another human in the wilds of Miami, and wonder what it was that had brought them there.
“I’ll have thenefuin’e jangeo’diae mapir’e naoak’kas kelp feuit,” Keld said, scanning the menu.
Grayson watched in surprise as the woman deftly scrawled the Loaish terms into her notepad.
“And for you?” she said, looking up at Grayson.
“Uh.” Grayson hastily bent his head, eyes darting across the page for something he recognized. “The fried shrimp udon?”
“Anything to drink?” she asked, writing his order below Keld’s.
“A gose for me,” Keld said. “Grayson?”
“Water’s fine,” Grayson said quickly.
“He’ll have the hot sake.” Keld smirked over at him.
“Onenefuin’e jangeo’diae mapir’e naoak’kas kelp feuitwith a gose, and one fried shrimp udon with hot sake,” the server repeated. “It’ll get that started for you.” Her Loaish sounded flawless to Grayson’s untrained ear. He wished it was appropriate to ask people how they ended up in Paeil.
As the server walked off, Keld raised an eyebrow. “Why do you look so baffled?”
“She knows Loaish! I thought humans weren’t allowed to learn it yet.”
Technically, the Mer and humans were at peace, but the tension between the species was still far too high to allow potential rebel groups to gain an understanding of the Mer’s communications. Until the Mer could be certain of their safety, humans were limited to basic workplace vocabulary, which Grayson still struggled to remember.
“She’s probably mated,” Keld said. “Mer mates don’t have the language restriction. Same with kids educated in Paeil.”
“What?” Grayson’s jaw dropped. “I never knew that.”
“It’s not exactly advertised.”
“But why? Isn’t that still unsafe? The human Omegas could run off and teach whoever they wanted on the mainland.”
