Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (49 page)

Tiny spotlights picked out
various revellers and in the light of one of them sprawled
Wraxilan, the Lion of Oomar, and leader of this phyle of the
greater tribe of Uigenna. He was magnificent, like a dream of
androgyny made flesh. His wild blond hair looked almost white. He
lay on his nest of cushions, his head thrown back, eyes closed; a
plume of smoke emanated from his pursed lips. His perfect arms were
covered in tattooed serpents, some of which had the head of a lion.
Wraxilan was neither shallow nor crass. He was, however, dangerous,
brutal and merciless. He had the murderous impulses of a psychotic
man and the cold vindictive zeal of a paranoid woman. Jarad had
always avoided him, kept his head down. There were privileges to
being in Wraxilan’s inner cabal, obviously, but he was quick to
take offence, and those who fell out of favour sometimes
disappeared.

Jarad hung back while Lianvis
approached the phylarch. A group of twenty of so hara sat around
him, and they now appraised Jarad with cool or suspicious
gazes.

After Lianvis had spoken,
Wraxilan sat up and stared directly at Jarad, who made a gesture of
respect by touching his brow. It was impossible to converse over
the music, so Wraxilan got to his feet and gestured they should go
through a door behind him. Jarad’s heart was beating fast. His
mouth was dry and his wound began to throb once more, making his
belly feel hot.

Beyond the doorway was a
narrow, dimly lit corridor. Wraxilan led his companions to another
room. He opened a door to reveal three hara experimenting in dim
light with some sort of drug: a pale green powder they were rubbing
into each other’s eyes.

‘Out!’ Wraxilan said and the
room’s occupants gathered up their equipment and hurried away.

There were cushions on the
floor in here also, and Wraxilan sat down. He gestured for Lianvis
and Jarad to do likewise. ‘So,’ he said, ‘the wanderer
returns.’

Jarad, lost for words, raised
his hands briefly, then let them fall back into his lap.

‘Drink?’ Wraxilan asked. He
pulled a flask from the pocket of his brushed leather shirt.

‘Thanks.’ Jarad took it,
swigged a mouthful of sweet fiery liquor. He handed the flask to
Lianvis.

‘It’s good that Viss found
you,’ Wraxilan said to Jarad. ‘You shouldn’t have left us. After
what happened, you should have come straight to me.’

‘At the time, I wasn’t thinking
straight,’ Jarad said carefully. ‘Also, you were out of the city
and I was in fear for my life.’

Wraxilan nodded.
‘Understandable. I was watching you, Jarad, sizing you up. It
annoyed me when you left.’

‘I had no idea.’

‘No.’ Wraxilan gestured
emphatically. ‘Well, I’ll get to the point. I need hara like you.
There are too many fools. They’re no use to me. They’re the sheep.
I want wolves.’

‘Hmm,’ murmured Jarad.

‘It all bores you, doesn’t it?’
Wraxilan said. ‘I like that. The ones who attacked you didn’t like
it at all. They wanted to bring you down a bit, make you know your
place. But you just walked away. I wasn’t happy about that.’

‘What do you want me to do for
you?’ Jarad asked.

‘Help me do what has to be
done,’ Wraxilan replied. ‘Organise our phyle. See to training,
organise raids, that sort of thing. We can’t hide in the ruins
forever. We have to take this city, and every other city.
Humanity’s time is done.’

‘Big plans,’ Jarad said. ‘Is
this under Archon Manticker’s direction?’

A flicker flashed across
Wraxilan’s eyes at the mention of the tribe leader. It was no
secret Wraxilan coveted Manticker’s power. Such was the way of the
ambitious
protégé
. Manticker had incepted Wraxilan, and once
they had been close. ‘We all do what is best for our tribe,’
Wraxilan answered.

Jarad nodded. ‘Of course. But
what will your other hara think about my place in your scheme?’

Wraxilan gestured carelessly
with one hand. ‘Don’t worry about what hara think of you. They
won’t dare to touch you again.’

‘OK,’ Jarad said. Here was
another thing he really had no choice over. ‘Whatever you
want.’

Wraxilan laughed, rather
uncertainly. ‘You puzzle me. I expected you to haggle over
terms.’

‘No,’ Jarad said. ‘Your terms
are clear. Your protection will be useful. No doubt I still have
enemies.’

‘I like you,’ Wraxilan said.
‘You talk straight. No bullshit. That’s good.’ He paused. ‘What do
you want me to do with your attackers now?’

Jarad paused for a moment. One
thing he was sure of was that turning up again and causing trouble
or drama amongst hara who most likely hated him was unwise. Best to
keep a low profile. ‘What’s done is done,’ he said eventually. ‘If
they try anything again, it might be a different matter.’

‘I am prepared to punish
them.’

‘I know. Perhaps that is
enough.’

‘You know what I think?’
Wraxilan said. ‘This experience has sharpened you, made you strong.
You’re a changed har, my friend. Use it to your advantage. Work
well for me, and you’ll keep a good position.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Jarad
said.

‘I heard you visited Velisarius
today,’ Wraxilan said, in a tone that was just a shade too casual.
‘I hope he fixed you.’

Jarad shrugged. ‘Just about.
I’ll be healed in a day or so.’

‘Good. I look forward to
that.’

Jarad inclined his head. The
meaning was clear.

Wraxilan stood up. ‘Well, get
Viss to find you a room around here somewhere. I’ll see you
later.’

‘Happy now?’ Jarad asked, once
he and Lianvis were alone.

‘What?’ Lianvis appeared to
have been lost in thought.

‘I did what you wanted. I’m
back with a vengeance.’

‘Are you?’

Jarad stood up. ‘So find me a
room.’

Lianvis hesitated. ‘Wraxilan’s
is not the only way, Jarad. It’s good to be part of his troupe, but
the heart doesn’t have to go where the body goes.’

‘I’ll talk to your healer
friend if it’s what you want,’ Jarad said. ‘But now, I’m just
tired.’

‘Then let’s go.’

They found a disused room, or
rather an abandoned room, because there were some bits of furniture
in it: a bed, a chest of drawers, lots of clothes and rubbish lying
around. Someone had left this room one day intending to return, but
had never done so. Jarad took off his uniform. He’d never wear it
again. He’d wear the clothes a dead har had left behind.

Lianvis appeared anxious about
something. Jarad didn’t know what. ‘I’m not going out into the club
again tonight,’ he said. ‘Want to stay here with me?’ He sat down
on the bed, which was low to the floor, just two thin mattresses on
top of one another, covered by a grimy quilt.

‘Okay.’ Lianvis sat down beside
him. ‘You seem really distant, Jarad.’

The balance of power had
shifted. It had begun from the moment they’d set foot in the
club.

‘I’m here,’ Jarad said.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Fine.’ He put a hand on
Lianvis’ shoulder. ‘You made me an offer, remember?’

‘Perhaps you should wait.’

‘What I’m planning won’t hurt
me.’

Lianvis smiled uncertainly. ‘I
see.’

‘I want to fuck you,’ Jarad
said flatly. ‘So deep it hurts.’

Lianvis moved away from him
slightly. ‘Don’t call it that. It’s not that.’

Jarad laughed coldly. ‘Well, I
don’t know what you’ll be doing, but I’ll be fucking.’

Lianvis stood up, leaving Jarad
to bite only at empty air where once Lianvis’s neck had been.
‘That’s not it. You say you despise the others? Now you sound like
them.’

Jarad leaned back on his
elbows. His face was inscrutable.

‘What we can do together
transcends…’ Lianvis’s voice trailed off. He must see he didn’t
really have an audience.

‘I know what it is,’ Jarad
said. ‘I thought we had a deal.’

‘We did.’ Lianvis sat down
again, raked his hands through his hair.

‘What’s the matter with you?’
Jarad asked. ‘I bet you’ve laid all of Wraxilan’s phyle and half of
every other one in Carmine. What’s so different now?’ He grinned
slowly. ‘No… don’t tell me it’s
that
!’ He laughed aloud. ‘Do
you think you’re kelos over me, Viss? Is that it?’

‘If you’re not careful,’
Lianvis said, ‘your bitterness will be your undoing, Jarad. A bad
thing happened to you. But you are Wraeththu. Get over it.’

‘You didn’t answer my
question.’

‘No.’ Lianvis paused. ‘I’m not
kelos over you, but I am learning new things. One of them is that
sex isn’t just for mindless gratification. For us, it can be
different.’

‘How so?’

‘It can be like a drug, a
natural high. It can give us power, real power. I’ve seen it. If
you go into it with an open mind, you can go anywhere.’ He laid a
hand on one of Jarad’s arms. ‘Let me show you.’

Jarad’s eyes were still cold,
but he said, ‘OK. Whatever you want.’

‘Share breath with me.’

They lay down together, and in
their sharing it was clear that Lianvis was trying to project what
was precious and divine about their potential union. When Jarad
reached to undo Lianvis’s trousers, Lianvis stayed his hand. Jarad
pulled away from him. ‘Viss?’

‘Wait,’ Lianvis said. ‘Share
breath for longer.’

Drawing out the memories was
like pulling shards of glass from Jarad’s flesh, but Lianvis made
him do it. He relived those harrowing hours when the Uigenna had
abused and violated him. They had done terrible things, far worse
than Lianvis would have imagined. It was more than simple
resentment or envy that drove them, much more. It was self-hatred
too, and terror of what they had become.

When they broke the kiss, Jarad
was shuddering, his face pressed into Lianvis’s hair.

‘You had to face it,’ Lianvis
said. ‘Understand that.’

Jarad raised his head. He felt
very tired, weary of life itself. ‘Your foreplay sucks,’ he
said.

A week later Jarad saw two of
the hara who had changed his life to darkness. Given the close-knit
nature of their community, he was surprised it hadn’t happened
sooner. The moment he saw them, he acknowledged this and realised
he’d been waiting. They were with a third har he didn’t know. They
weren’t slouching around looking menacing or slinking in a pack
down some twilit alley; they were horsing about in the sunlight,
unloading foodstuffs from a truck, throwing sacks to each other.
Laughing
.

A needle went through Jarad’s
heart. The carefree laughter pained him more than if they’d turned
and recognised him, growled insults, spat in his face.

Lianvis was trying to educate
him, Jarad knew. But Jarad was impatient with the carefully-worded
sentiments about how hara could be great and good. All Jarad saw
were monsters, made even more monstrous because they were
beautiful. Talk of the world being gifted to a superior race was
nonsense to him. Who were they kidding? Most of the time, the hara
around him behaved like characters in a bad B-movie of a post
holocaust world. Posturing, strutting, dressing up, learning how to
sneer in the best possible way, and how to carry a weapon so that
it looked cool. When Lianvis said things like, ‘think of our
ultimate potential,’ Jarad wanted to say, ‘Yeah, yeah, by the way,
your hair looks good.’ He felt that the sarcasm of that would be
lost on this new earnest Lianvis. Perhaps it was like religion –
clutching at straws when the hurricane was going to blow them all
away anyway.

And Lianvis was worried about
Jarad – Jarad could feel it. He knew that Lianvis could sense him
slipping away into a hinterland, present in body but not in mind
and spirit. Jarad didn’t care. He simply didn’t know how to. And as
he stared from the shadow of the porch of an abandoned store,
fixing his eyes on the hara who had ruined him, he felt Lianvis
touch his mind. He was like a stalker, ever vigilant, and now he
melted through the sunlight, the sun behind him, hair lifted in the
breeze of his own movement, tall and stately. He was dressed in
close-fitting rags of burnt orange and gold. His arms were scored
with tattoos. He was radiant. Like an advertisement for a better
life a long time ago.

Don’t
Lianvis said
through mind-touch.
Come away.

He is just flesh, Jarad
thought, or a lovely moving image. None of it is real. He projected
to Lianvis: What are you afraid I’ll do?

Nothing. It’s what you’re
thinking that scares me.

Then get out of my mind. It’s
not your garden.

I’m going to see Velisarius.
Come with me.

Jarad sighed. I wish you’d stop
trying, Viss. It’s starting to annoy me.

You don’t want me to give up on
you. Not really.

Lianvis was before him now, his
back to the sun so it was hard to see his face. Jarad noticed the
hara at the truck had stopped what they were doing to look at
Lianvis. They didn’t even notice Jarad standing there. He was
forgotten, although surely they must’ve heard the news he’d
returned. Lianvis simply eclipsed him, he supposed.

Lianvis linked his arm through
one of Jarad’s and firmly dragged him away, back in the direction
from which he’d come. ‘Wraxilan wants your anger,’ he said. ‘Why do
you give in so easily and let him have it?’

‘There’s nothing
else
to
do,’ Jarad said.

‘You could try to stop feeling
sorry for yourself,’ Lianvis said. ‘You want to hurt me by being
like this. It doesn’t hurt me, though.’

Jarad was impatient with these
conversations. They didn’t interest him. He wondered whether in
fact he actually liked Lianvis, further than the fleeting pleasures
his body could afford. And even that seemed tawdry now, another big
pose.
Our sex is better than humanity’s – big deal. Doesn’t make
us any smarter.
He decided the next time he wanted to fuck
Lianvis, he’d try to step back from the sensations and see whether
the whole thing was really quite boring.