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
