Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (48 page)

‘You would give yourself to me,
just to lure me back?’ Jarad uttered a snort. ‘There’s more to this
than you say. I don’t flatter myself I’m that desirable.’

The creature stood up and
dressed himself. ‘You are. That was the point of the game.’

Jarad frowned. ‘I can’t be like
you anymore. Don’t you understand? They took that from me, all
desire.’

The creature nodded. ‘I
understand… really. But it can be changed.’

Jarad put his hands over his
face. The possibility was there, he knew that. He had run away to
lick his wounds. Perhaps he had always wanted to be found.

‘Did you never think of me?’
the creature asked.

Jarad did not lower his hands.
‘Of course, until I made myself stop.’ He heard the creature draw
nearer.

‘We can heal you, you know
that. The question is: Will you allow it?’ He took hold of Jarad’s
hands and pulled them away from his face. The creature’s scent
filled his head; bittersweet musk. He exhaled over Jarad, his
breath bringing brief visions of comfort and safety.

Jarad knew he should pull away.
He must. ‘Call me by name, Jarad.’ The creature’s arms were around
his body, lips so close to his own.

‘Lianvis,’ he said. ‘Don’t do
this.’

‘Come home.’

Their lips touched and all
physical sensation faded away. In the visions that followed, the
city was dyed red in the light of a setting sun. There were no
humans, no labour facilities, no cars, no pain. Birds wheeled among
the broken towers and the green crept back over the land. Jarad was
lost in that world, that beautiful lie. He saw himself with
Lianvis, in a bower of roses that grew in the corner of a deserted
parking lot. It was a dream he’d once had.

Lianvis pulled away, creature
no more. ‘Will you come with me?’ Long fingers caressed Jarad’s
face.

‘Yes,’ Jarad said, weakly.

Jarad guessed that Lianvis had
really expected him to put up more of a fight, and was therefore
disorientated by his relatively easy victory. He took Jarad swiftly
into the eastern forbidden zone of the city, where their own kind
could gather in daylight. The human security patrols did not
venture there. The SG believed that if the undesirable element was
contained within its own sector, the populace of City Heart was
safe. It was a short-sighted view that would eventually mean the
end of human occupation in the city.

A café called ‘Chains’,
supplied with produce by the black market, provided breakfast for
anyone awake at that hour. The sausages frying so temptingly in the
filthy kitchen were made of dog meat.

While Lianvis bartered at the
counter for black coffee and burnt toast, Jarad went to sit at a
table outside. There were no other patrons.

Lianvis returned with food.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘Eat.’

Jarad grimaced. ‘I don’t think
so. I think I should go home.’

‘Too late for that,’ Lianvis
said. ‘Let’s just say I have musked your apartment. The next human
who enters there will almost certainly report the matter to the
authorities, since they know that token, and they will have bad
dreams for three months.’

‘You are disgusting!’

‘A scent through the pores,
that is all. What do you take me for?’

‘What you are.’ Jarad sipped
the coffee.

Lianvis studied Jarad
carefully. He wouldn’t be able to see into his companion’s mind.
Whatever Jarad said about denying what he was, he still expertly
shrouded his thoughts. Lianvis would know that Jarad had been
attacked some months back, and that terrible things had been done
to him, because the perpetrators would have bragged about it
afterwards. They were hara, they were braggarts. It didn’t take
psychic ability to predict that. But none of them would have
guessed Jarad would disappear for good.

‘Wraxilan, questioned those
responsible for the assault on you,’ Lianvis said.

‘Questioned...’

‘They insisted it had only been
”a bit of fun.”’ Lianvis grimaced.

‘Really. And the Lion accepted
that?’

‘Fun gets out of control
sometimes. He knows that.’ Lianvis paused. ‘I know it wasn’t that,
Jarad. You always kindled jealousy very easily. It caused
resentment.’

‘So much so, some trash tried
to gut me. Yeah, that fun really got out of control.’ Jarad spat at
the ground by his feet, but he couldn’t spit out the bile in his
heart.

‘I’ll take you to Wraxilan
tonight,’ Lianvis said.

Jarad shrugged.

‘Are you worried about facing
those who attacked you?’

‘No.’

‘You should talk about it. We
all know pelki happens, but not among our own kind.’

Jarad put his head to one side.
‘It was rape, Viss. Don’t dress it up with a tame word.’

‘Pelki is not tame,’ Lianvis
said. ‘That is why we use it.’

Jarad laughed coldly. ‘I bled
so much I thought I would heal up completely, that it would all
just
go
. Perhaps it has. Perhaps I’m human again. Perhaps
I’m male.’

‘That’s not possible. If you’ve
been injured you should see a healer.’

‘Sometimes, it aches.’

‘Jarad…’ Lianvis reached out
and laid a hand over one of Jarad’s, which was curled around his
coffee mug.

Jarad did not pull away from
the contact. ‘They hated me. Why? I didn’t ask to be made
Wraeththu. I had no choice.’

‘I know.’

‘Did you… have a choice, I
mean?’

Lianvis shook his head.

‘It’s wrong,’ Jarad said and
took a big mouthful of the scalding coffee, pulling away from
Lianvis’ touch. ‘By staying with them, we condone it.’

‘I’m not sorry about it,’
Lianvis said. ‘I’m happy with what I am. We don’t have to be like
the others.’ He paused. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet. He’s a
thinker. He talks sense.’

‘Really!’

‘Yes. His name is Velisarius.
He’s also a healer. He’ll help you.’

Jarad grimaced. ‘I know of him.
He’s a freak. Seems to me he’s into justifying his existence by
getting into religion. That’s no answer.’

‘You’re wrong. It’s not
religion.’

Again, Jarad laughed. ‘There is
no room for hippy mystics in Wraeththu, Viss. I’m surprised your
friend is still alive.’

‘It would do no harm to talk to
him.’

‘Whatever. I was stupid enough
to fall for the breath-sharing, lost my wits, lost my life, so here
I am! Do what you like. I don’t care.’

‘I don’t believe you. I don’t
think you really liked that life you’d made for yourself. What the
hell did you do in that squalid building?’

‘Process data. It was mindless.
I wanted that.’

‘Wraeththu are here to stay,’
Lianvis said. ‘You had better get used to it. You are har.’

‘I’m not sure I am
anymore.’

Lianvis drained his coffee.
‘Come on, I’ll take you to Velisarius. Before anything, we should
get you checked over.’

Velisarius lived, quite
appropriately in Jarad’s view, in an old church which was squeezed
between high abandoned buildings. Jarad and Lianvis had to clamber
over rubble to reach the main entrance. A group of very young hara
were playing a game with bones in the litter-strewn entrance hall.
They must have been incepted recently. Jarad immediately felt old,
and yet his own inception had only been two years before.

At Lianvis’ request, one of the
hara took them into the presence of Velisarius. Jarad expected the
har to be meditating or chanting, but when they were conducted into
the small room at the rear of the building where Velisarius lived,
the self-styled mystic was making a table. The air smelled of
freshly cut wood. The symbolism of that was not lost on Jarad. He
sneered inwardly.

Velisarius glanced up from his
work. He looked younger than Jarad had expected. His long hair fell
in a plait over one shoulder. ‘This is a surprise,’ he said to
Lianvis. ‘You’re not usually about so early.’

‘I’ve brought somehar to meet
you,’ Lianvis said. ‘This is Jarad.’

‘Ah,’ said Velisarius, in a
tone that indicated he knew who Jarad was.

‘Will you look him over?’
Lianvis asked. ‘What happened to him… it caused injuries.’

Velisarius nodded. ‘I’ll take a
look, if he wishes it.’

‘You’re not a doctor,’ Jarad
said, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

‘No,’ Velisarius agreed. ‘I was
a second year medical student.’

Jarad grimaced. ‘Oh. Okay.’

Velisarius went to wash his
hands at the sink at the back of the room. ‘What were you before?’
he asked.

‘Still at school,’ Jarad said.
‘We were raided. Only five of us survived inception.’

‘I was taken because I was
stupid enough to walk around at night on my own,’ Velisarius said.
‘Still, it was what was meant to be. Will you undress and lie down
on my bed? This won’t take a moment. I can tell from looking at you
that the damage was not too great.’ He smiled. ‘I mean,
physically.’

‘You didn’t study psychiatry,
then?’ Jarad said, unzipping the front of his uniform.

‘Sadly, no,’ Velisarius said,
‘although there are many hara who need it. Lianvis, go and find
somehar who can make us tea.’

Lianvis, who still stood at the
threshold, departed without a word.

Jarad lay down on the bed. ‘I’m
not sure about this, but I guess I want to know as well. Can you
really tell from looking at me how bad it is?’

Velisarius nodded. ‘I can tell
a lot from a simple glance, yes. I read auras.’

‘Of course you do.’ Jarad
raised his knees. He felt vulnerable, embarrassed.

Velisarius put a hand on
Jarad’s brow and a soothing cool wave of energy passed from his
fingers. ‘Relax,’ Velisarius said. ‘I’m a healer.’

‘I can feel that,’ Jarad said.
He felt drowsy, as if the other har’s energy was anaesthetic.
Velisarius’s gentle touch was also cool.

‘Hmm,’ Velisarius murmured.

‘What?’ Jarad raised his head
to see Velisarius peering intently between his legs.

‘This will require a minor
operation. I can do it now, if you like.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘You’ve healed all wrong.’

‘I knew it! I said to Viss I’d
healed up.’

‘Well, not quite that bad,’
Velisarius said, ‘but I’ll need to make an incision.’

‘Maybe you should just leave
it.’

Velisarius glanced up. ‘I’ll
pretend I didn’t hear that.’

‘I mean it.’

‘I don’t have to be a
psychiatrist to tell you that a har denying half of his being is
unhealthy,’ Velisarius said. ‘Don’t move. I’ll be right back.’

Jarad led his head flop back
and closed his eyes. He wasn’t afraid of pain. He was afraid of
what he was, all the feelings he didn’t understand, that woman
inside him.

Jarad rested in Velisarius’
room for most of the day, lulled by the sound of a saw through
wood, the hammering of nails. Lianvis sat on the floor beside him
and read a book. Jarad dozed, drifting in and out of consciousness.
One time he woke up weeping; it was as if some other personality
was living in his body. Velisarius had packed the wound, and now
Jarad’s lower body throbbed in pain, as sensitive nerves protested
at the intrusion. Lianvis said nothing but put his hands on Jarad’s
belly. Healing warmth flowed from his fingers.

‘You see,’ Lianvis said softly.
‘We
can
be different. You’ll heal quickly.’

By evening, Jarad felt more or
less normal. He ached slightly, but it wasn’t too much to
tolerate.

‘Be thankful for your new
physiology,’ Velisarius told him. ‘You’ll be as good as new in a
day or so.’

‘Lianvis said we should talk,’
Jarad said.

Velisarius smiled. ‘I hope we
will. Come back any time.’

He was not touting for
converts, then.

Outside, night had come. The
sky was clearer than it had been for a while. The moon was just
past full. Lianvis and Jarad walked through the narrow backstreets,
with high walls to either side. They went to the area known as City
Zoo, where abandoned warehouses had been turned into nightclubs.
Loud music boomed from every open doorway, and the light within
those places was red, turquoise, livid green. They were in search
of Wraxilan, and Lianvis knew his favoured haunts.

This was the territory of the
Uigenna, the largest and most powerful Wraeththu tribe, into which
Jarad had been incepted. Exotic hara, clad in their strangest
costumes, lined the streets, eyeing up the competition and the
talent. The wind carried litter and sighs. Huge, scrawny alley cats
lithed along the sidewalk, glancing from left to right for
adversaries. Jarad could see that Lianvis was smiling: clearly he
savoured this environment. Jarad simply thought it shallow and
crass. Whatever initial attractions the Uigenna way of life had had
for him, he’d quickly grown to despise it. Most hara he’d met were
stupid, posturing fools.

The smoke of dry ice billowed
out from the clubs, pungent with the smell of sweat and incense.
Lianvis turned into one of the open doorways, pausing only to make
sure that Jarad was still following. Two tall hara, whose faces
were tattooed with curling black patterns, stood aside to let them
through, nodding a greeting to Lianvis as they did so.

The light inside was crimson
and it was difficult to see much through the smoky atmosphere. A
long bar that ran down the side of the main room served lethal
hooch that was brewed in the cellars below. This noxious liquor was
flavoured with various fruits and caramel, and coloured with livid
food dyes, which tended to stain the teeth. Heavy industrial dub
pulsed from the immense sound system, and the entire space was one
enormous dance floor, filled with gyrating bodies.

Jarad looked back; the street
seemed very far away. He had been here before. He’d met friends
here often. Strange, he couldn’t remember some of their faces
now.

There was a mezzanine gallery
above the dancers, and Lianvis led Jarad to the metal stairs that
led to it. Up there, hara were lounging on cushions, smoking
marijuana in tall pipes.