They spoke an Old Earth language: a dialect of Mandarin. It was forcefully injected into his brains moments before he was given the honour. It pushed his name out of his head.
“It is a great honour,” Kannyo Madita said, though the man only heard every other word, “to reopen this position, and make that your new and only name.” She repeated his new name in the Old Earth tongue, and he understood it as Prisoner-Ambassador.
The language was still establishing itself in his skull when he was pushed into the cubicle and saw the door melt into the wall.