I looked around the circle. Most - if not all - of the local Arellians were stealing glances in my direction. When I made eye contact with them, most would look away, embarrassed.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Elder Ra’ntu. ‘Please, excuse them,’ she told me. ‘It is only because they have never seen an off-worlder before.’
I smiled an answer back at her, and she patted me on the shoulder three times, before moving around the circle to find an empty space herself.
I turned to Te’rnu.
‘Can I ask, how do you survive out here?’
‘What do you mean?’ he replied.
‘In these plains. There can’t be much to live on.’
‘There are plenty of plants around, if you know where to look. We farm some, in the shade of a hill, not too far away. We keep what we can, which is usually enough, but of course the Iyr take their share.’
‘What-’ I began, but suddenly the screen buzzed into life, illuminating the circle with a blue hue.
That same blue symbol appeared again - the one I’d seen before the broadcasts in the city. And, just like last time, everyone around me was transfixed by the message to follow. The only difference in the broadcast out here was that it was in a language that my universal translator could understand.
It spoke of crop harvests declining, of where and how the Arellians might farm more food. The locals nodded along, grateful for this information, some even bowing their heads in respect. Only Te’rnu watched the broadcast with a snarl.
As the announcement ended, I saw the symbol yet another time. This time, however, it clicked where I’d seen it before.
I shot up from my feet, alarming Te’rnu and some of the other Arellians around me. I rushed back into the building where I’d been resting and pulled Leya’s journal from my bag. I skimmed through it - until I stopped at the section I was looking for.
Sure enough, there it was: that same symbol.
Leya had been here. On Z’h’ar.
Suddenly I had hope that I would see my sister again.
7
The Arellian Conspiracy
I turned to see Te’rnu standing in the doorway, a curious look upon his face.
‘Is everything OK?’ he asked.
‘Yes, it’s just…,’ I started, then walked outside again, Te’rnu following. ‘What was that? On that screen?’
‘Oh. It was the daily broadcast. Updates on-’
‘Yeah, but the symbol - what was the symbol?’ I asked.
‘It is… the Iyr’s Central Command. Their…,’ he trailed off, trying to find the word. ‘What do they call it? Their… government.’
And why might a symbol like that be in Leya’s journal?
‘They are the ones we have to pay tribute to,’ Te’rnu continued. ‘The ones for whom we have to farm food, metals, everything.’
‘Why? What’s in it for you guys?’
Te’rnu shook his head. ‘I cannot talk about it. It is a private matter. Only an Arellian would understand. And, besides, I am not even sure that I can answer that question and be sure I am telling you the truth…’
There was a certain solemnity to Te’rnu’s expression which stopped me from pressing the subject any further. Instead, I glanced back down at the encrypted journal in front of me.
‘What’s it mean? That symbol,’ I asked. ‘Like, I know what it signifies, if its the logo of the Central Command… but what does the symbol mean?’
Te’rnu shrugged. ‘I do not know. None of us here will know. That is the language of the Iyr. Only they will know.’
I pulled out the journal and showed Te’rnu the relevant section. ‘All these symbols, on these pages, are they all from that language?’
He nodded.
‘How would I go about translating this?’ I asked.
Te’rnu looked at me warily. ‘Theoretically, any Iyr would be able to do that for you, if it is a simple translation. If it is using their code… you would need to log on to a console that’s connected to the Central Command’s mainframe.’
‘Interesting,’ I replied - and then voiced the obvious question. ‘How do you know all this, Te’rnu?’
He shrugged. ‘I have been investigating for a few years now. Most of my life, really.’
‘And how old… are you?’
‘Twenty. I know; I am old.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘If you’re old at twenty, then I’m absolutely ancient. People from Terra are normally not even finished with their studies at this age.’
‘Their studies?’ Te’rnu asked, brow furrowed.
I took a moment to work out how to explain this one. ‘Yeah… like… learning all the things they need to know for their jobs.’
Te’rnu laughed, eyes wide. ‘It takes them twenty cycles for this? Farmers: you put seeds in the soil, you add water. Cooks: you put food on a fire. What more is there that they need to know?’
‘I…,’ I began to reply, then shrugged. ‘I guess we’ve over-complicated it where I’m from.’
My Arellian friend looked at me again. Not that he hadn’t been looking at me already, but this time… he was really looking, almost as though his eyes were piercing into my soul.
‘What did you study?’ he asked.
I sighed. ‘You’ll laugh.’
‘Why would I laugh?’
‘Because it’ll seem ridiculous to you.’ I wasn’t sure I could name a single concept that would be more alien to Te’rnu than the answer to his question.
‘I will not laugh.’
‘Is that a promise?’
‘It is a promise, Syl Raynor,’ he replied. The addition of my name to this reply added a level of sincerity that was maybe unwarranted for such a topic of conversation.
‘Marketing,’ I answered.
‘What is that?’
Hmm. Well… at least he wasn’t laughing.
‘Like… making people buy things.’
‘Buy? Like the Iyr do? Getting things in exchange for money?’
‘Yeah, exactly. So-’
‘The Iyr,’ Te’rnu interrupted, ‘They are always after money in exchange for information. But I do not have money, where do they think this would be coming from?’
He shook his head to himself.
‘So how do you make people buy things? At phaserpoint?’
‘What? No! Just, like, with adverts,’ I answered, and then - when Te’rnu’s confused face made me realise my mistake - I explained, ‘Adverts are
