by Rey S Morfin
They aren’t how the Iyr describe them at all. They’re gentle, kind. About as far from “barbarians” as you can imagine. That narrative all makes sense to me now, of course, but…
Anyway. I ran out. Found myself in a village called Te’r’ok, surrounded by these Arellians. And I wanted to tell them the truth, I really did! But… what would I do next? At some point, I had to return to the city - that was the only way home - and if I told the Arellians, I was only damaging my relationship with the Iyr…
I didn’t have any option, you see? There was no good choice.
Mel, tired, fed up, and despairing, put her head in her hands.
‘What did you see, Mel?’ I asked.
‘I told you; I don’t think I should say.’ She nodded to the ceiling. ‘Not when they might be watching… listening.’
‘We’re going to get you out of here, Mel. Te’rnu is gonna come back for us. But we need to know what we’re not seeing. We need to know what we’re missing.’
‘Why do you care so much?’ Mel replied. ‘Why endanger your own life with the truth?’
I paused for a moment. Was that really what had happened here? Was I risking my life for his truth? Or was I just trying to solve the case? If the two hadn’t been so inextricably linked, would I be fighting so hard to learn the secrets of the Iyr?
‘My friend… the Arellian, he’s spent his whole life searching for this truth. And he doesn’t have long left now, he’s almost at the age of Mutation.’
Mel shot me a look which I didn’t quite understand - perhaps confusion at the concept? - but I continued anyway.
‘And he’s saved me a couple of times now, at great cost to himself. He doesn’t have a home any more, he doesn’t have a family, he doesn’t even have a friend in the galaxy other than me. And, to an extent, I caused all of that. By roping him into some stupid scheme. I think I… owe him this.’
My fellow prisoner looked down at the floor, picked at the skin on her fingers.
‘He’ll come back for us,’ I repeated. ‘He’s resourceful like that. He’ll come back, and we’ll get out of here.’
As I said the words, I had less and less faith in them. Te’rnu didn’t know the way of the galaxy, so how could he hope to blend in with them? And to get back to us, in the middle of perhaps the most defended building on Z’h’ar… it didn’t seem likely.
But I kept this to myself, not wanting to put Mel off telling me the truth. While there was any hope at all that Te’rnu was able to come back for us, I wanted to be able to give him the answers he’d spent his whole life searching for.
‘OK,’ Mel said suddenly. ‘I’ll tell you. But not because I think he’ll come back. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. They’re paranoid, the Iyr; his disguise won’t last long.’
Mel sighed to herself.
‘No. I’ll tell you, because, with every hour that passes, I feel less and less confident that I’ll ever be free.’
‘He’ll- he’ll come back,’ I repeated, voice cracking with the realisation that I might now share the same fate as Mel. This time, I said it only to convince myself.
Mel shot me a sad look.
‘The truth is…,’ Mel started, eyes glancing towards the door, as though someone was about to burst in and stop her. ‘The truth that you’ve been searching for is… You’ve seen an Iyr.’
I pulled a face. ‘I have?’
‘Yes,’ Mel replied. ‘Anyone who has been out into the Wastelands, or read about Z’h’ar, even, has seen them.’
What?
‘What does that…,’ I began to ask, and then the truth dawned on me.
‘The Iyr - they’re no mysterious species, no great benefactors to the lowly Arellians. They are the Arellians.’
‘Wh- How?’ I asked. ‘Why?’
‘The Arellians don’t die when they go through the Mutation. That’s not the end of their lives. The Mutation, it’s little more than…’ Mel paused, to find the right word. ‘The closest word we would have for it is… puberty.’
‘I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would they do this? The Iyr - why would they keep the Arellians in the dark about this?’
Mel shrugged. ‘It was tradition, probably, to start. All these things start with traditions, don’t they? And then you have this society, built up, so reliant on the resources farmed and mined for them by their youth… why would they ever want to change this setup? So they control them. They keep the fear of death hanging over the youths’ heads. The Iyr act as though they’re doing some great favour when they take a maturing Arellian away - but all they’re really doing is adding to their own population.’
I found my mouth hanging agape. ‘But that’s… that’s…’
Mel nodded. ‘Maybe now you understand what the Iyr would do to keep this a secret, then. How far they would go. What they would do to anyone who sticks their nose in.’
‘But- Te’rnu. He’s out there… If he gets found out…’
She nodded again. ‘They’ll kill him.’
15
A Sheep In Wolf’s Clothing
Six of the Iyr guards came into the room, all armed with those horrible phasers. I was beginning to see why Syl did not like them.
The guards, upon seeing Syl, aimed the rifles at her, completely ignoring me.
‘Alright, don’t shoot, I surrender!’ she cried out. ‘We don’t want an intergalactic incident on our hands, do we?’
At this point, I remembered that I was in disguise. Disguises were good, I had decided. I would have to do disguises more often.
When the Iyr did finally see me, they stood up straight, put their hands to their faces, and shouted, in unison, ‘Sir!’
I knew from earlier that this was a sign of respect, that they thought themselves somehow inferior to me (or, at least, to the Iyr that I was disguised as).
Oh! No need for the instant kill, then.
Part of me was disappointed; I wanted to see what it did. The other (much larger) part of me knew that I didn’t want to have to live with killing anyone - even an Iyr. I pulled my hand away from the buttons on the suit’s visor.
I stood up straight, hoping that this was how the Iyr - the so-called “Head of Guard” - would have acted.
‘Thank you, soldiers, for the reinforcement,’ I told the Iyr, putting on my deepest voice - a mark of authority, I reckoned. And then, realising that I would need to explain this situation in order to keep my cover intact, added, ‘I was just in the process of arresting this… intruder.’
The Iyr nodded and remained silent.
Great! I am a convincing Head of Guard! I would never have thought it.
‘She…,’ I started, pointing at Syl, and then realised that the Iyr did not use that word. ‘They already knocked out one of the guards.’
I pointed at two of the Iyr.
‘You! Take this one to the medical bay.’
That got rid of two of them. Maybe I should have ordered more away.
‘Yes, sir!’ the Iyr replied, and picked up the guard I had assaulted by their limbs.
‘That looks comfy,’ Syl muttered. I tried to shoot her a disapproving look, but it was hard to get the meaning across from under this helmet.
The four remaining Iyr, angered by Syl’s characteristically irritating throwaway comments, aimed their rifles at her once again.
I watched in horror, frozen, as one of the guard moved their hand to the buttons in their visor.
Please not Instant Kill!
‘Wait,’ Syl began, ‘What are you-’
When the button was pressed, a huge wave of light came forth from the helmet and shot into Syl, who screamed and collapsed to the floor.
Oops. Perhaps I should have acted sooner there. You need to be better at this, Te’rnu. Oh well. She is still alive. That is what counts!
‘…not much fun,’ Syl muttered to herself.
The guards picked her up and threw her into the cell, closing the door behind her. I just had a chance to glimpse another
occupant, looking tired, dirty, and sad, sat in the corner of that room.
This must be who Syl was looking for.
‘Sir, what should we do with the prisoner?’ an Iyr asked me.
Think, Te’rnu, think!
‘I… I will deal with them later.’
I was going to come back for her later, then. Perhaps in the meanwhile, I could use this disguise to gain access to the central terminal.
But without Syl’s technological knowledge…
‘Of course - your meeting,’ a guard interrupted my train of thought. They looked at a display of some kind on their right arm. ‘It started a few moments ago, but I am sure they will understand your delay… given the circumstances.’
Meeting? What sort of meeting? A food-related meeting, I hope.
‘I… err…,’ I started - and then forced my mouth closed until I could formulate my response properly. ‘Yes!’
I pointed to one of the Iyr.
‘You. Keep guard here. You three: please escort me to the meeting.’
That should make it easier to break Syl out upon my return.
One of the Iyr turned to me, grabbed me gently by the upper arm. I hoped my biology was not so different from the Iyr that they would notice the difference through the suit.
‘I do not mean to question your orders, sir, but should we not keep more than one guard on this post, given the security breach?’
I shook my head. ‘It is all resolved, is it not? The damage has been contained.’
There was a short pause.
Had my disguise been seen through?
The Iyr nodded. ‘Of course, sir.’
…Apparently not.
One of the other guards opened the door and gestured for me to follow. When it shut once again behind me, it dawned on me that I was alone. I did not have Syl to back me up. I was alone; a Truvet amongst the Hillbeasts, prey in the land of predators.
My newly-formed troupe of guardsman escorted me through the building, along the winding corridors and into the still mind-blowing transmats. In silence, we walked - until, finally, we arrived at a large room.
This atrium was host to a large, long table, at which a number of Iyr sat, each with their suits decorated in their own unique way. If my suit belonged to an important Iyr, then these suits did too. Above them was a large, complex metallic web of glass, refracting the light in every which direction. This was art unlike I had ever seen before.
I tried my best not to be distracted by this complicated lighting mechanism - I knew that the real Head of Guard would have seen it many times before - but still it drew my eye. The table turned to watch as I approached the table, and took the last remaining available seat.
As I did so, the Iyr at the very end of the table announced, ‘I am glad that we could all make it.’
The table’s occupants all looked at me as the room fell silent.
The Iyr across from me but one, with a green upper-half of their helmet, coughed, and then told me, ‘That, I believe, was a cue for your to explain the reason for your late arrival.’
‘Yes, thank you, Ve’nua,’ came a voice from the end of the table.
‘Oh!’ I said, possibly in a more upbeat manner than was appropriate, ‘Yes! There was an intrusion. An off-worlder in the Central Command. It has since been dealt with.’
Many Iyr around the table nodded their agreement. The one at the end of the table, sporting an entirely purple helmet, asked, ‘We are not expecting any more intrusions, then, I trust?’
I nodded. ‘That is correct.’ A pause. I added, ‘…sir.’ It seemed to be the thing to do around here.
‘Well, then, as we are not going to be disturbed, may I suggest that we remove our helmets so that we may be comfortable?’
‘What?’ I found myself asking.
All heads turned to look at me.
‘I mean… I am afraid that I cannot… sir.’
‘And why not?’ the purple-helmeted Iyr asked.
I paused for a moment. It was better to gather my thoughts than to say something that wasn’t foolproof. If I got caught, an Arellian, here… then I might not be so lucky as to be let go.
‘Because I am the Head of Guard, sir. It is my duty to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice. If that means I must be less comfortable, then that is a price I willingly pay.’
Good. That felt good. Very smart thinking, Te’rnu.
A pause. The apparent leader nodded. ‘Very honourable.’
Ve’nua continued to stare, even once others had looked away.
Did they see through my disguise?
I felt my forehead begin to sweat and my heart rate start to rise. Was there a mechsuit in this room which could see such things?
I cast my doubts aside; there was something bigger at hand. I was about to see it: the face of the Iyr. Perhaps this would reveal the truth that I had spent my whole life searching for.
I stared at the Iyr leader, whose hands had risen to their helmet, fingers detaching it from the rest of the suit…
My own hands gripped the bottom of my seat in anticipation.
This was it! It was finally happening! It-
My heart dropped when the first head was revealed. I thought I was imagining what I saw. I blinked over and over as if to wash this hallucination from my sight. But it did not work.
How could this be?
Ve’nua spoke at me. But I could not listen. I could not make out the words.
They paused for a moment and then repeated themselves. This time I could hear them, but as though they were at the end of a long tunnel - only an echo of their voice.
‘Are you in full health?’ they asked. ‘You are acting odd. And your voice…’
‘I… I am fine,’ I said back to them, with a dismissive motion. They did not seem convinced - but left it at that for now.
As I looked around the room, Arellian after Arellian revealed themselves. I could hear nothing of the debate at the table, only of my own heartbeat. It pounded. Louder and louder it pounded - until my head was filled with nothing but the drums.
How could this be?
I looked again. They were Arellian… but not. Hair sprouted where it should not have. Wrinkles in the skin - like the sort Syl had a few of on her forehead - were pervasive on some of the faces. What had happened to these Arellians to make them this way?
How could this be?
I clenched my hands on my chair. I breathed deeply.
It was almost as though these Arellians were… older.
Ur’tnu had been correct.
He had been correct; we could live on. We could live on past the Mutation. We could live on… here, in the strongholds.
But what would possess these Arellians to abandon their younger selves?
My hearing began to return to me.
‘-must be released soon or else we risk war. Is that a policy which will aid our economic growth? I think not.’
I looked down the table. An Iyr at the leader’s right hand was speaking.
Another interrupted. ‘Then what do you suggest? You forget that they are an important person. They are related to the Itagurinatipilazutinafi - the one responsible for our GMU exit deal. If news travels that we have them, here, then what sort of trade deal can we expect in the future?’
They pounded their fist on the table.
‘None! We can expect no exit deal. All our work over the past three rotations will have been for nothing!’
They look like Arellians, but they do not speak as us. Their nature is that of paranoia, of harm. Who are these Iyr to rule over us?
The original Iyr countered, ‘I see that we have two real options. Either we release the prisoner and suffer the consequences, or we keep them where they are until the deal is finalised. As Head of Intergalactic Policy, I favour the former, but-’
‘We release them? Do you truly understand the implications of this? Not only will there be no deal to speak of, but the truth will be revealed to the Arellians. You are talking
about the end of a several thousand-year tradition!’
I noticed Ve’nua still staring at me, seemingly paying less attention to the debate.
A new Iyr spoke up. ‘Agreed! The Tradition must be preserved at all costs. Our economy depends on it. If we have no intergalactic trade deal as well as no willing manual labour, then we can forget about growth for ten - maybe even hundreds - of rotations!’
Ve’nua, only now looking away from me, spoke up. ‘There is… a third option.’
All heads turned to them. There was a silence, even from the leader and their enraged right-hand Iyr.
‘They could be disposed of. Quietly. Nobody would ever know that we were involved.’
What? How dare they speak this way - deciding who lives and who dies.
I could feel my heartbeat surging again.
Even the rest of the Iyr remained silent. Equally, however, none immediately voiced an opposition to this idea.
Ve’nua continued, ‘What is one life versus the quality of life of our whole civilisation? It is nothing.’
Some of the Iyr began to murmur an agreement.
I tried to keep my breathing consistent, but the anger was limiting my ability to do so.
‘You are correct,’ another spoke. ‘We should dispose of her.’
More murmuring.
Someone thumped the table.
‘No!’
I looked around to which attendee had done it.
Strangely, however, everyone was now looking at me.
Oh.
It was… me, who did that.
‘Do you have something to add, Pi’nua?’ the leader asked.
I paused. Even I knew that my pause was for a moment too long. The stare from the suspicious Iyr across the table only confirmed this.
‘We are a proud species!’ I gambled. ‘We have evolved! We no longer need to rely on the… pathetic Arellians.’
Was I overdoing it?
With the drums reverberating around my mind, it was hard to sound these sentences out before I committed them to speech.
A pause.
Soon, the leader spoke once more, this time with a tone of resignation. ‘Perhaps you are right.’
Still, there was silence from the rest of the table.
