Suddenly, an Elder approached us. Behind them, four Arellians carried a huge metal container.
‘Is this the liquid?’ Te’rnu asked.
The Elder, in answer, announced, ‘There was one other gift that your sister presented us with: knowledge. Specifically, she taught unto us the secrets of distillation. I present to you, Arellian Gin!’
Yep. It was definitely my Leya who had been here.
I burst out laughing - to the confusion of everyone around me.
‘She always loved her gin, that one,’ I informed them.
They responded with a faint smile, as though still not quite understanding what there was to laugh about, and then began to pour the gin into smaller bowls.
Most - if not all - of the Arellians were served the gin. They drank happily - even the children. Whereas most races might frown on giving alcohol to children, Leya clearly hadn’t parted that wisdom onto the Arellians, and it seemed were yet to learn this lesson for themselves.
I watched as Te’rnu took a hesitant sip. As he tasted it, his eyes widened.
‘I like this!’ he announced, and other Arellians around him cheered in response. A wide smile spread across his face, momentarily replacing that melancholy expression he had been sporting since the trial.
We drank long into the night, and it was my first experience seeing the Arellians actually loosen up a little - Te’rnu in particular. The joy of these villagers was contagious; a night of drinking, dancing, and making stupid jokes had me feeling like I was a teenager again.
‘It’s funny!’ I told a passing Arellian.
‘What is?’ they replied.
‘You give people, of any race, alcohol, and their evenings become this. No matter how proud, or cold, or… whatever a species is - when alcohol is involved, they learn to love a good party.’
The Arellian smiled politely in response; clearly this wasn’t so funny to them. Maybe you needed to have had seen more of the galaxy.
Te’rnu grabbed me by the arm and insisted I joined him and a group of locals in dancing. They taught me their moves and laughed when I taught them some old Terran classics: the chicken, the robot, flossing. They found the chicken particularly funny - which was kinda weird, because birds didn’t exist on Z’h’ar.
Many of the locals partnered off over the course of the night, leaving a smaller and smaller crowd dwindling behind.
As is always the way, eventually the plentiful supply of alcohol was no longer enough to keep my energy levels up. I soon found myself lying down, on the bare ground, in front of the monument to my sister.
I stared up at the stars. The constellations were so different on Z’h’ar; many clusters of stars were dotted about the night sky, some even bright enough to cast faint shadows.
Te’rnu’s face suddenly blocked my view as he stood over me.
‘Are you OK down there?’ he asked.
I said nothing, just waved frantically at him to join me.
He didn’t take the hint. ‘Why are you lying on the ground? There are beds for us.’
‘Lie down, Te’rnu, for god’s sake!’
‘What is “god’s”?’
I shook my head. ‘Remind me to tell you another time.’
Te’rnu laid down on the floor next to me, and too looked up at the stars.
‘You have pretty stars here,’ I told him.
‘Would you like me to tell you about them?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, go on then.’
Te’rnu pointed up at a particularly bright cluster. ‘Those, there. We use those for navigation. When we used to travel back to Te’r’ok from the farm, late at night, we just followed them. The Returners, we called them - they will always bring you home.’
He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Perhaps the memory of Te’r’ok was getting to him.
Te’rnu pointed at another set of stars.
‘And those, do you see a face?’
I grunted in acknowledgement.
‘We say the stars are smiling at us. If we can see the Smiling Stars in the night’s sky on the first day of spring, we know that the crops will grow strong that year.’
‘What are your favourites?’ I asked Te’rnu.
‘I never really had any.’
‘No?’
‘No. For me, I mostly dreamt of adventuring amongst them, as the spacemen do. But I was always told: that is not the life I was given.’
‘That’s just the thing, though, Te’rnu. Nobody gets to tell you what kind of life you have to live. Maybe you’ll be the first Arellian, out there, travelling the cosmos.’
We said nothing for a few more moments and simply stared up at the sky, appreciating its beauty.
‘Earlier today, Syl, you said something.’
‘Oh, no. Since getting drunk, you mean? What did I say?’ I responded.
‘No, before that. Before we arrived in Nu’r’ka. You told me that one person cannot hope to change the world.’
‘Yeah, I remember.’
Te’rnu gestured at the monument to Nu’r’ka’s saviour - to Leya.
‘Maybe one person cannot change our world, but they can still make things better: village by village, person by person. Your sister is proof of that.’
I said nothing.
‘Maybe,’ Te’rnu continued. ‘You would consider helping me?’
‘How would I help you?’ I asked.
‘I would like to continue our investigation. I would like to know, for certain, whether we Arellians can live on… beyond our Mutation. Would you help me find the truth?’
I stared up at the looming statue.
Saviour of Nu’r’ka.
‘OK, Te’rnu. I’ll help. To hell with changing the world - let’s just try and change your world.’
‘What is “hell”?’ Te’rnu asked.
12
They Don’t Have Aspirin On Z’h’ar
‘Argh!’ Te’rnu shouted.
I jumped to my feet. ‘What is it?!’ I called out to him.
I looked around to find Te’rnu on the floor, clutching his head.
‘No!’ he screamed. ‘The Mutation! It has started!’
Other Arellians in town watched on - but didn’t seem too worried. This definitely wasn’t the same reaction as the locals had had in Te’r’ok. But maybe that was because…
‘Where’s the pain?’ I asked Te’rnu.
‘In my head!’ he cried out. ‘It is awful! And my mouth feels so dry!’
I was starting to get a clue about what was happening here.
‘Isn’t the pain
