Sweet Starfire (Lost Colony #1) - Page 66/96

“I’m the one who set off on a midnight garden walk through the jungle with you instead of dragging you back to the tent, remember?”

“Yes, but…”

“But, nothing. I’m the one who screwed up.” He held up a hand to keep her from arguing further. “The subject is closed for discussion. We’ll reopen it later when I feel more like fighting with you. Right now I haven’t got the energy.”

She subsided, not liking the pallor on his tanned face. “If you’re not up to fighting with me, Severance, then you probably aren’t up to trying to make it back to the deflectors.”

“Trust a Harmonic to grasp a difficult situation the first time out.”

“I’m not a Harmonic.”

“Hush, Cidra.” He paused for a moment, eyes closed. “It looks like we’re stuck here for the night. I’d say we had to try for the deflectors if this weird circle didn’t seem to be working, but it does, so I guess our odds are better staying here than trying to hike back. It’s going to be dark soon.” He swung an assessing glance around the perimeter of the circle. “Let’s move over to the wall of the safehold. That should protect our backs just in case.”

Cidra tried to help him as he staggered to his feet. He was shakier than he wanted to admit. He looked down at her supporting hands.

“You’re stronger than you look, aren’t you, Cidra?” She ignored that. “At least we’ll be warm enough.”

“Food,” he announced succinctly, “will be our next problem.”

She glanced at him as she eased him down with his back to the translucent wall. “Any ideas? Can we eat any of the vegetation around this circle?”

Severance leaned his head back, taking a few seconds to gather his strength. Cidra crouched beside him. When he opened his eyes again, she breathed a small sigh of relief. His gaze was steady, not showing any signs of disorientation. He gazed at the jungle growth that ringed their shelter. “I’m no botanist. Any of this stuff could be deadly or simply inedible. The safest thing to eat on Renaissance is what most everything else eats: Meat. If you can kill it before it kills you.”

Cidra felt her stomach lurch for the first time. She cleared her throat. “Actually, there shouldn’t be more than a few hunger pangs if we simply wait until we get back to the campsite tomorrow. No harm in going a day without eating.”

He looked up at her through slitted eyes. “Personally I’m starved. Neither of us has had anything since yesterday, and we’ve gone through a lot of our stored energy since then. Renaissance has a way of doing that to a body. By tomorrow we could be light-headed. That’s not a good condition to be in when we make another try for the campsite.”

“I understand.” She said no more. This was a matter of survival. There was no obligation to follow the Klinian dietary restrictions under such circumstances. Vegetarianism was a luxury she could not afford tonight. “What do we do?”

He unholstered the pulser. “We sit here very quietly and wait for the crowd to arrive.” “What crowd?”

“The guests who will be sitting down to dine on the late, unlamented lockmouth. Sooner or later something will pass by on the way to the meal. I’ll try to get it before it realizes we’re a threat.”

Cidra nodded, quelling her stomach with a stem effort of will. She sat huddled in silence beside Severance as the darkness descended. Before long, the dinner guests began arriving. The first indications were eyes. Far too many eyes. They flickered and flared in the shadows.

Next came the sounds of scufflings and one or two piercing screams. This was not a well-mannered crowd, Cidra decided. And some of the guests had just become entries themselves. She shuddered at the thought and stayed very still.

The unwary, overanxious diner who passed too close to the circle was a small four-footed hopping creature that had fur instead of scales. Cidra had been rather hoping for something with scales. It was easier to dislike scaled things. A totally irrational, even primitive reaction, but one she couldn’t shake. She shut her eyes when Severance brought up the pulser and fired in a smooth, sure movement.

“Get it,” he snapped, “before something else does.” Cidra leapt to her feet and dashed to the edge of the circle. The little hopper lay dead less than a meter away. It looked very cuddly and pathetic until she saw the fangs in its mouth. She reached out, grabbed it by the fluffy tail, and hauled it into the safe area. Her heart was pounding, and her insides again moved uncomfortably. Huge, dead eyes gazed up at her in mute reproach.

“I’d better clean it on the edge of the circle.” Severance made his way painfully to the perimeter and pulled out the utility knife. He removed the miniature quartzflash he carried and set it on the ground to light the hopper. “Ever do any dissection work in those biology classes you’re always mentioning?”

She swallowed. “No. Everything was demonstrated with holotapes. I wasn’t going to be a biologist, so there was no need to actually do dissections.”

“This isn’t going to look like any neat, clean holotape. Why don’t you start the flamer while I take care of this?” He handed her the tiny can of instant fire he had removed from his loop and turned back to the hopper.

Cidra looked away, busying herself with igniting the emergency flamer. She had it going quickly and adjusted the wide flame to a reasonable level. The fire was very comforting here in the middle of the jungle, she discovered.

Severance was tiring very rapidly. Cidra kept a wary eye on him as he washed his bloodied hands in the bubbling stream. But she said nothing as he doggedly roasted sections of meat on the narrow point of the utility knife.

Cidra listened to the hissing of animal fat and tried to close her nostrils to the smell of roasting meat. When Severance handed her a portion, she took it without a word.

“Careful, it’s hot.” He bit hungrily into the hindquarter he was holding.

Cidra stopped breathing as she took a tiny bite. She’d never eaten meat in her life. Closing her eyes, she chewed woodenly, trying not to taste. On the other side of the small flamer Severance chewed vigorously and watched her. Under his steady gaze she forced herself to swallow the first bite, trying to think of it as medicine.

“We’re very lucky you remembered to bring the utility loop and the pulser with you,” she remarked, trying for light dinner-table conversation. In the shadows the other diners weren’t being nearly so fussy. Their conversations consisted of squeals, growls, hisses, and shrieks. She hoped they would finish quickly.