The Pritan, loosening up a little now, leaned in close. ‘What about that guy? You asked him?’ He pointed to the lone drinker in the corner.
‘What, I wouldn’t ask him cos he looks so scary?’
The Pritan pulled a face which suggested that he thought that was exactly the reason that I wouldn’t have asked him. ‘Tell you what, if you do it, I’ll pay for a quarter of that bottle you’re drinking.’
‘Make it half.’
‘No,’ he responded.
‘OK. A quarter it is.’
How could I refuse such a generous offer?
I stood from the table, set my eyes on the Iyr in the corner, and began walking over to him. Catching myself on the edge of one of the tables, I mumbled, ‘Ouch,’ which was enough to draw the lone drinker’s attention. He stared me down as I approached.
‘Hi, how’re you?’ I asked, slurring my words a little, but surely not enough that anybody would notice.
The Iyr remained silent, still, and stared at me.
‘I like your… your red bit… up there,’ I continued, pointing at the stripe on the Iyr’s helmet.
Still, I got no response. Despite this, I carried on talking.
‘So, anyway, I was looking for this-’
‘Leave,’ the Iyr interrupted.
‘What? Why?’
‘I heard your questions. You ask of things that concern only the council.’
‘Concern the…,’ I began to ask. ‘What you on about?’
‘The…,’ the lonely Iyr started… and then fell silent. For a few moments there was only the vacant stare of the mechsuit’s eyes, the inhabitant apparently taking a moment to think about their response.
‘No,’ the Iyr started up again. ‘Leave. No more questions.’
I turned to look over to my new friend, accidentally stepping on the Iyr’s foot in the process. They grunted a noise of irritation, but didn’t wince, so I acted as though it hadn’t happened.
My friend shrugged - and I shrugged back at him in response. Not wanting to shout across the bar, I mimed in his direction the action of taking a sip of drink. He nodded; he would indeed pay for the promised amount of whisky.
I walked back towards him, meaning to skirt around the quiet group of Iyr, but accidentally collided with one as they stood up. Their drink was knocked from their hand, spilling as the glass dropped to the table, a clunk echoing around the bar.
For a moment there was only silence, and then the Iyr whose drink I had spilt raised their arms at me, throwing a punch in my direction. I tried to dodge it, and the blow was softened - as it only barely caught my arm.
So these Iyr aren’t so dull after all!
‘Bit of an over-reaction, don’t you think?’ I asked as I stuck my foot forward to sweep my assailant’s leg. ‘All I did was-’
The Iyr dodged my attempt to floor them. Now even more enraged, they struck me in the side of the head, dizzying me, and sent me tumbling to the ground. They stood over me, broadening their shoulders as though trying to intimidate me.
Through their legs, I saw the Iyr in the corner stand up, and begin marching towards us. When they, too, noticed this, the rest of the Iyr scattered in fear.
‘Cease!’ the lonely Iyr called out as they strode. ‘I will abide no more of this!’
At first, I thought they were directing this at the rowdy group of Iyr - but then I saw that they were staring fixedly at me.
‘You shall not cast these kinds of aspersions about the Iyr.’
5
Where You Belong
Footsteps pounded the ground around me as the group of four fled the scene. The Iyr who had been drinking in the corner, a red stripe across their helmet, stormed towards me. I didn’t need to see this Iyr’s face to know that they were furious with me - the body language said it all. And - let’s face it - this was a reaction I’d provoked dozens of times before.
As he got closer and closer, I suddenly found myself fearing for what was about to happen. I’d seen, just a few seconds ago, how the Iyr liked to respond to even the most innocent of frustrating situations - and if they were intimidated enough by this one to run away, then it didn’t exactly bode well for me.
At the last second, the bartender stepped between us.
‘I will handle this, sir,’ they told the charging Iyr.
“Sir”? So was that stripe some measure of seniority, perhaps?
The other Iyr slowed to a halt, breathing furiously. They looked at the bartender, then to me, then back to them again. ‘If you must,’ they replied, before returning to their seat.
My saviour turned to face me.
‘Thanks, I guess,’ I said to them.
‘You are causing a scene. Get out.’
‘Oh.’
So much for “my saviour”.
I remained still on the floor for a few moments longer.
‘Why? All I did was accidentally knock a drink over, surely that happens all the time in here…’
The Iyr shook his head. ‘It does. That is not why you need to leave.’
They turned their head to peek over at the Iyr in the corner. He had returned to his drink - but glanced up sporadically.
‘If you upset the Head of Guard, then you cause trouble for my business.’
Head of Guard, eh? Very fancy title.
‘Upset them? I asked them a few questions, that’s all.’
‘Yes,’ the bartender replied. ‘But asking those sorts of questions around here… often means you are never seen again. If my customers start disappearing, the rest will stop coming. You understand?’
‘What, I’ll be taken away somewhere just for asking where someone is?’
They groaned. So far, the only emotions I’d been able to elicit from the locals had been irritation and rage, which was saying something, even for me. ‘Stop asking about it.’
‘No!’ I retorted, and the volume of my own voice caught me off-guard. Maybe I had had a little too much to drink.
‘Look,’ they continued, leaning in so that they could whisper. ‘The last I heard, the woman you are looking for was heading out into the Wastelands. Somewhere near Te’r’ok.
