Free Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu by Storm Constantine

feelings of
discontent onto him.
    I watched my crew squabble over
the bottles, each grabbing one and taking a swig before it was
snatched from them. When one bottle was emptied another appeared.
If these strangers had as much booze as they seemed to, I really
needed to make myself scarce; no good came from bullies like Dawson
and his ‘favourites’ when they got drinking. My attempt to slip
away would have been successful but for the visitor named
Acorn.
    “No! Don’t go, tiahaar! You
mustn’t go!” He called out. “Stay! This is good stuff. I promise.”
He grinned at me as he grabbed my wrist and flicked his long brown
curls over his shoulder.
    I was caught and Dawson had
noticed. He glared at me as he got to his feet. “Where were you
sneaking off to, Nolan?” he demanded. “Being rude to my
guests?”
    “I was going to go see about
starting dinner.” It was the first thing that popped into my head;
the wrong thing. I should have just said I was going for a pee.
    Dawson froze for a moment and
then his eyes narrowed. We had precious little food. The case of
peas we’d found today would be barely a mouthful for our own gang –
sharing would only mean less for everyone. Dawson wasn’t generous.
He wouldn’t think twice about accepting the strangers’ offer of
alcohol, but he’d not voluntarily offer them food in return.
    “You were, were you? How…
thoughtful.” His voice was low and dangerous; he took a few steps
towards me.
    Acorn reacted; smooth and
lightening fast. He dropped my wrist and slid his arms around my
waist, and in a dancer-smooth move had swung me out of the way,
inserting himself between me and Dawson. With his arm still firmly
around my waist, Acorn fairly oozed ‘sensuous soume’ at Dawson,
placing his hand lightly on our leader’s chest.
    “Dawson, you treasure!” Acorn
purred. “How generous to offer us dinner! I might have known you’d
try to do such a sweet thing. Hospitality like yours is a rare
treat these days. You are to be commended! But we can’t let you!
No! No! No!” He shook his head emphatically.
    Dawson looked confused for a
moment but then swaggered smugly at the flattery.
    “Of course not!” the har called
Osiris laughed. “It would have been rather rude and pushy for such
a large number of us just to descend on you unannounced and expect
to be fed. We’re trying to make a good impression on you, so we
brought you and your hara dinner.”
    A murmur rippled through our
crew and attention shifted away from us as the clan anticipated
dinner. As I met his eyes, Acorn gave my waist a slight squeeze. I
mouthed, “Thank you”, and he responded with a slight nod and a
ghost of a smile.
    Dinner was not fancy; there
were no table-cloths or cutlery, no plates or crystal, but it was
divine. These hara had brought sandwiches – yes, huge chunks of
juicy tender chicken, thick slices of plump tomatoes, crisp
lettuce, in enormous crusty bread rolls. I was in bliss. When
Osiris passed around enormous chocolate chip cookies for dessert I
wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t.
    Later, much later, I was still
sitting by the fire; full, content, and after several drinks,
feeling mellow and sleepy. I was staring into the dying flames
trying hard not to think of how long it had been since I’d eaten
food like that and trying even harder to think about how long it
might be until we ate that well again.
    The box of books landed with a
loud bang startling me out of my reverie. Mouse took a couple of
paperbacks and tossed them into the fire.
    I love reading. I love books. I
had been taught to respect books, long ago in that other life I’d
once had. Burning them just seemed so wrong but I had given up
trying to teach my fellow crew members a love of books. I sat
mutely watching the cover of one of the cheesy romance novels begin
to bubble and then darken as the flames took hold: a picture of a
buxom woman in a pale mauve gown swooning into the arms of a
shirtless muscular man, a