>>5874611Overcoming your own disgust, your hands reach out for the black bulb. You briefly consider just touching it with a single finger before fully committing, but Yamir-Hysret is watching intently. Black ichor drips all over your hands and wrists as you grasp hold of the globe. Strangely, the eye gives much more grip than first impression, as well as being not uncomfortably warm. The texture is similar to stockfish, the rows of evenly spaced out hexagonal edges reminiscent of scales. What would it taste like?
You had the chance to try out Venusian locusts, once. A failed genetic project to terraform the planet's hellish climate, hurricanes of these bugs still wander the troposphere and feed on its sulfuric clouds. Its internal enzymes then break down the acid as intended, but too small a portion of sulfur is retained in the body when these creatures die, not enough to offset the constant volcanic activity. What was a scientific failure, however, soon became a culinary hit. When bitten into, the trace amounts of sulfur still left would burn the tongue at the same time as the rotten egg fumes choke your nostrils. Properly processed, the dish should be safe for human consumption, almost. Almost? The tour guide had said mostly...
A cough from Silas wakes you from your daydream. Is your mind actually trying to prepare you for eating this eye, or is it just trying to delay the eventual deed? In any case, remembering the abrupt end to your Venusian trip back then thanks to sulfur poisoning concludes the matter. If your stomach could not stand bio-engineered Terran insects, it would fare even worse digesting alien biomolecules. You bow to Yamir-Hysret, your mind scrambling to string together Venusian words, “I thank you for the offer of sight, but I cannot feast on this eye right now. I fear my body cannot quite handle the... revelation it will bring.” Silas is already prepared to receive the eye in a ziplock bag, “Standard procedure for debarking in alien biosphere. The goggly-eyes over at Xenobiology couldn't bear the thought of our crap contaminating their pristine environments.” After carefully sealing the bag, he continues, “I take it you want this taken to medlab and analysed asap.” You nod and turn back to Yamir-Hysret, who remains inscrutable. You shift your body slightly to the side to obscure Silas' readying his sidearm.
“Not partaking in the Feast, that I can understand. But drawing weapons on your Host, is this what Terran hospitality has come to?” There was a genuine note of disbelief and sadness in the herald's tone. The pang of guilt hits true, “I- I had to” But you stand firm, “We had to remain alert. Too deep the gulf between us is, remains. How can the Guest feel at ease when the Host knows so much even before they introduce themselves?”
