It’s a big leaf, filled with thin slices of various meats, a little bit of half-dried stew, carefully cut pieces of fruit, and a heap of green herbs.
For a moment I’m stunned. It’s the most wonderful meal I have seen, artfully arranged and presented. “This… this is too nice to eat.”
Dolly peers up at me, cheerfully chewing. “Huh? No, it’s just a simple brunch. I know it’s not a lot, but I want to save some for when we get there. And for the walk back. Want some water?” She fills a cup and hands it over.
I take a bite of the stew, finding it much more flavorful than the varieties I have had before. The meat slices are cut thin and have rinds with a mix of spices, while the fruits are fresh and juicy and flawless. Not a spot on them.
I can’t remember the last time I ate something as carefully prepared as this. In the tribe, we just put all the food into a large cauldron and mix it. In the new army camp, it’s much the same.
This is what alien females eat, of course. It’s delicate and elegant, just like they are. And Dolly is allowing me to take part in it.
I savor the meal, luxuriating in being a part of her world for a little while. And why not? I won’t have that many joys in what little is left of my future. This could be a way for the Ancestors to show me I’m on the right track, a reward before the main action, a clear sign to encourage me to stick with my plan. Which I was going to anyway, but it’s nice to see them agreeing.
Dolly opens the small pot. “You done? Good. Time for your potion. Give me your cup.”
She pours a dark liquid into it from the pot and hands it back. “Just sip it, don’t drink it all at once.”
I sniff it. “A magic potion?”
She shrugs. “Well, it’s maybe not magic. But we really like it. I mean, some of us do. Just sometimes, of course. It’s called not-tequila.”
I take a small sip, and it feels like fire on my tongue. “Tekile?”
She reaches out her cup and gently strikes it against mine. “Cheers. Yes, tequila. It’s not, of course. Totally different, which is why we call it not-tequila. But it’s the closest we get to the real thing. We have a small still in the village for making fermented fruit juices stronger. I thought I’d bring some, just to strengthen us.” She takes a sip, scrunching up her face. “I actually never liked tequila, so this tastes about right to me.”
I take another sip. It’s not at all a pleasant experience, but if she can do it, then so can I.
“We have fermented fruit juices in my tribe, too. But not as… powerful as this.”
“If you want, I’ll show you how to make those juices stronger when we get back to the village. You’ll show your tribesmen, and they will love it. Maybe.”
“That would be nice,” I offer, making a face as I swallow all the rest of the alien potion. It’s like a hot sword down my throat, and it makes me cough.
“See, now you’re getting into it,” Dolly says and coughs, too. “That’s how it’s done. Soon, you’ll be an alien yourself. Stars, that’s vile.” She wipes her eyes.
“Yes,” I agree. “I feel half alien already, with all these fancy foods and potions.”
She glances at me. “There is more food left. So by the end of this day, you’ll be more than just half alien.”
A curious warmth is spreading through me, and I can’t hold back a smile. “Really? Three-quarter alien, perhaps?”
She returns my smile. “Oh, at least. I’ll do what I can.”
“Perhaps that’s exactly what you want: a male alien.”
Dolly shrugs and looks away. “Perhaps. Not something I think about a lot.”
I have to restrain myself to not fling the cup at a nearby tree, or to take the sword and cut my lips from my mouth.
Why in the name of the Ancestors did I say that? A male alien? As if I wanted to become one, so that she would… like me? I didn’t think about it – the words just formed themselves. And now she must think I’m dishonorable, dangerous to be around. I must pull myself together.
I place the empty cup and leaf next to her on the ground. “Thank you for the bruns. Now we must move again. And