‘I-,’ I began, only to get cut off by Elder Ra’ntu.
‘Generations upon generations of Arellians have paid tribute in this way. It is not for you to decide to break with tradition! This is exactly why you were never made Elder, Te’rnu. And at this rate, you never-’
‘What about Ur’tna?!’ Te’rnu suddenly interjected.
Elder Ra’ntu looked exasperated. ‘Do not fill the spaceman’s mind with stories of Ur’tna’s nonsense. We have already had that Trial, we have already ruled that these stories were little more than the ramblings of a lunatic.’
‘Forget the trial! We didn’t know-’
‘Te’rnu!’ Ra’ntu insisted. ‘Enough! The off-worlder does not need to hear this!’
‘I’m happy to hear what he has to say,’ I butted in, shooting Te’rnu a smile. ‘He saved my life, after all. Who was Ur’tna?’ Part of me was just happy to finally get a word in.
Te’rnu shot me a brief smile in thanks. Ra’ntu, on the other hand, looked less than impressed.
‘They were an Arellian. Lived here, in Te’r’ok. Ur’tna was absolutely convinced that there was more going on with the tributes than met the eye.’
‘And was also… mad,’ Ra’ntu added.
‘That does not necessarily mean Ur’tna was wrong,’ Te’rnu replied.
‘That’s true! I’ve known plenty of completely mad people who were almost always right,’ I added, trying my darndest to support the person who’d saved my life. I was, however, complete ignored by both of them. Old quarrels die hard - on Z’h’ar as it was in Terra.
‘Nobody else ever believed Ur’tnu,’ Te’rnu continued, ‘But Ur’tnu was convinced that the Iyr were doing something with the people they had taken.’
‘Like what?’ I asked.
‘Experimenting on them? Enslaving them? Selling them? Ur’tnu never quite got to the bottom of it.’
‘All little more than conspiracy theories!’ Ra’ntu interjected. ‘Please don’t pay attention to this one, spaceman. Te’rnu’s mind was warped by Ur’tnu’s babbling, and it never quite recovered, it seemed.’
I was already fascinated by the idea of there being a conspiracy, though. Who more likely than the irritable, foul-tempered Iyr to be behind some sort of scheme like this?
‘Did Ur’tnu ever get any proof?’ I asked.
‘Not really,’ Te’rnu answered. ‘But there was this one thing. Towards the end, they kept repeating this one idea: that the Mutation doesn’t have to be the end for us. That we can live through it, but the Iyr do not want us to. Maybe we get too powerful, or smart, or some other trait which might give us more of an advantage than the Iyr want us to have. It was not until Ur’tnu said this that they disappeared.’
‘Ignore this one, spaceman. Te’rnu is at the end of their life. They fear their own mortality, and so they speak these conspiracy theories as a way of avoiding facing that fear.’
‘I fear nothing!’ Te’rnu argued. ‘Well… I fear some things, yes. But not this!’
‘And yet you have no proof. Once again, you simply exist to cast doubt upon the Tradition. Tradition which has served this community well, I might add!’
‘I have proof!’ he shouted. ‘That is where I have been! I have found someone inside the Stronghold who was willing to talk with me.’
‘You have been where?’ Ra’ntu asked.
‘They told me, Syl, they told me: Ur’tnu didn’t just disappear, they were taken.’
‘As is the Tradition!’ Ra’ntu insisted.
‘No! You do not understand! Ur’tnu was taken before the Mutation started. The Iyr, they weren’t trying to save them, they were trying to silence them!’
8
The Face Of The Iyr
We spoke long into the night. While Te’rnu, a group of other Arellians, and I sat around the remnants of a once-scorching fire, I told stories of my life so far. I spoke about my childhood, about going to school, about breakups and heartbreak; even the most tedious of stories they were fascinated by. I’d never before had such a captivated audience, and I lost myself in the storytelling.
Once the fire had gone out, and the sky was dark with the dead of night, did I remember why I was out here in the Wastelands.
‘Do you guys mind if I ask you a question? It has to do with why I’m here.’
They all nodded - almost in unison.
‘I’m actually looking for someone. An off-worlder, like me. That’s why I’m on Z’h’ar - or, more specifically, here in Te’r’ok. They were an Itagurinatipilazutinafi, although, I guess… you don’t know what that is.’
They were now shaking their heads.
‘No,’ Te’rnu replied, ‘Although I suspect we can guess.’
‘What’s that mean?’ I asked.
‘There was another, before you, who came here. Looked different to you. They had clearer skin.’
‘Well, thanks,’ I replied, although Te’rnu didn’t seem to recognise the sarcastic undertones.
‘They were not here long; we were not able to get much information out of them. Not like you.’
‘If I show you a picture, can you tell me if it was her?’
Back to the nodding again.
I pulled up my left sleeve, revealing my console. All eyes were trained upon this strange device. I tapped in the relevant commands and brought up the Z’h’ar case file. I put the target’s image on the holodisplay.
‘Her name’s Melonaitopila. She-’
But I stopped when I looked around at the crowd. The wide eyes and continued nodding suggested that this was indeed the person who had been here.
Use your words!
‘She was here?’ I asked, beginning to wonder if the Arellians treated nodding and shaking their heads to mean different things.
‘They were,’ one of the Arellians piped up. ‘Their hair, though, was different. Not so… pristine, as it is there.’
‘And their eyes,’ another added.
‘What about her eyes?’ I prompted.
‘There was pain in them.’
Right. Pain. In her eyes. Not exactly much to go on, as far as my investigation was concerned.
‘She was scared,’ Te’rnu explained.
‘Do you know where she went? After she left here?’
The was a moment where I felt the whole group draw a sharp intake of breath. Only Te’rnu seemed to feel comfortable replying.
‘She didn’t leave. Or,
