The Dreaming: Dark Star (Book 5)

To eat bugs, or not to eat bugs, that is the question

         

Imorah awoke from a deep dreamless sleep and the first thing she saw was a nice, juicy, young beetle scurrying past her nose. Without thinking, she picked it up, tore off its little wriggling legs and popped it in her mouth. She was hungry.

"Did you just eat a beetle?" Liran said from behind her.

Imorah rolled over, stiff from sleeping on the cold, hard ground, and saw Liran standing there, bare-chested with his galibya wrapped around his torso. His hair was wet. "Yes," she answered after swallowing it.

"That is disgusting!" he said, his face a grimace.

"Why?" Imorah asked, confused.

"Why? Because humans don't eat bugs. Yuck!"

"Yes they do," she replied, sitting up.

"No they don't—not any human I've ever met."

"Well, I have to admit, they're better when they're cooked and spiced, but it's tasty and very nutritious."

Liran's face was blank with shock.

"You mean you've never eaten a bug?"

"No! Ugh. Yuck!"

"Never, not any?"

"No," he repeated.

"But you eat animals—with thoughts and feelings?"

"Well... yes, of course!"

"Well, I find that disgusting. I'd rather eat a thousand raw beetles than one bite of zabi."

Liran shook his head. "You are so strange."

Imorah rolled her eyes, and stood up, deciding to ignore him. She went to the water's edge and grabbed a handful to wash her face. It was so inviting she just wanted to jump in.

"So, you eat bugs regularly down there?" Liran asked from behind her.

Imorah turned and saw his question was genuine. "Yes—our primary protein is beetle larvae—." She stopped because it looked like he was about to vomit. "Oh stop it—you're such a child!" she turned back around, deciding to ignore him for hte rest of the morning, maybe the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of her life.

"I'm sorry—it's just—I never heard anything like it—it's barbaric."

Imorah swung around, angry now. "Barbaric? You know, we live by moral values in the Shelter. We don't kill thinking, feeling animals and we don't kill people! We don't steal from each other—we share everything as one family." She looked up to see that he was obviously sorry and she left it at that.

22 April

But a moment later, he started up again. "You know—you live by morals and values because you have everything you need down there. You have food and water—as much as you want. You have education and technology. You have justice."

"What do you mean?" Imorah asked, despite herself. What did those things have to do with morals?

"I mean, if someone does something wrong, what happens to them?"

"They get rehabilitated."

"Re-bib? What's that?"

"Rehabilitation—it's like.... A way to fix them."

"So, it's a punishment?"

"Well, no—it's not a punishment. They try to help you."

"Do they enjoy it?"

Imorah thought about Jason, who had raped Evelyn. When he came back from rehabilitation, he'd been much, much different. Whatever they had done to him, it obviously wasn't pleasant. They told stories about Rehab. That you spent all your time alone, locked in a small room. And they gave you therapy—some of which hurt. Or at least that's what people said. And of course, they couldn't have children afterward. Imorah gulped, realizing that rehabilitation was actually a punishment. "No, they don't enjoy it—I guess it is a punishment."

"So, when people commit a crime, they're punished?"

"Yes, Imorah answered honestly."

"That's justice—you have justice. But we don't have justice up here. We're not allowed to form a government—gathering in groups of more than thirty is illegal. And if you break the law, then they steal your family members. So, if someone murders his wife, then nothing will happen. That person is free to do what they want—even marry again. And when people don't have food or water, they learn to steal. So, we make our own justice. And it's barbaric, but it's only because our lives up here are barbaric. And when people aren't allowed to read or go to school, they're stupid, and they become even more barbaric."

Imorah realised that he had a point. He was right—how much of their behaviours were shaped by their circumstances? And how much of their circumstances were shaped by the Family's harsh laws up here? It was incredibly unfair—and even though Imorah had been told stories about the evils perpetrated by the humans of earth, she didn't think they deserved to starve. She couldn't imagine a life without books, without education, without justice. It didn't forgive Liran for murdering his father, but maybe it... explained it a little?

Liran picked up his clothes that were drying in the sun and said, "I'm going to get ready to go. You should have a bath—this is the last water we'll see for the next day. I'll meet you up ahead on the trail." He pointed to a narrow crevice, behind which the trail led, presumably.

Imorah looked at the water, excited to take a dip.