Snippet #2267158

"So why's that a problem?" asked Ari, keeping his face perfectly straight. "I mean, it's not as if we eat fish raw, right? We ain't dholes. Surely having 'em ready boiled would be -" he was unable to keep a straight face any longer. "Sorry, Adders," he grinned, just as she opened her mouth to give what may or may not have been a straight answer. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, a clumsy attempt at forgiveness for teasing her. "Truly, though - and I ain't too happy about this - I can't see as it matters much. I mean, seriously, how long have we got anyway?" It had been a thing he'd been thinking about for many years, and he'd long ago become reconciled to the obvious answer to his question. "We're the last generation either way. Maybe we got thirty years, maybe we got three? T'ain't like we gonna fret about future generations, is it?"

Moonie's reaction - especially since she was obviously at the lowest point in her intellectual cycle, and long overdue for her dandy - surprised even Ari. She was a blur of motion, moving so quickly that even his reflections were not quick enough to deflect her slap. She was not strong enough to cause him actual pain, but her ineffectual flailing caused the ragged edge of her nail to catch his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

"How dare ya say that, Ari the rat?" she screamed, causing several heads to turn and look at the group. "Like how dare? Her anger caused her to flare into street, and she let fly with a long stream of invective, which only Annika and Ari could really follow, but which might be roughly translated as a strongly held opinion that just lying down and giving up constituted a sin against human nature, and was tantamount to weakness - this kernel of opinion interspersed with various snippets of commentary concerning Ari's lineage, sexual habits and shortcomings in general.

"Like we come down from monkeys an' fish, just go give up?" she finished, by way of a summary to her spiel. "We jus' gonna lie down and kark?" Tears had formed in her blank eyes. "So why don' yer just jump in the surf, then, if you say there ain't no point goin' on, huh? Why do people Grak? Ain't no point makin' no bubs, if we're the last folk, is it? Ain't no point bein' decent to each other, or doin' stuff at all!"

She quickened her pace, walking ahead of the group, as if unwilling to be associated with Ari, or even anyone who was willing to walk alongside him. She sniffed, and raised her hand - even from behind, the others could see she was wiping a tear.

It wasn't the first time Ari had seen Moonie fly into one of her spontaneous rages, but they'd been none since they'd discovered the effects of the dandy, and he'd been hoping that her brief bouts of lucidity had somehow damped the frustration that caused them. Obviously he'd been wrong.

He stared gloomily at the battered hulk of a boat that would, it seemed, be taking them on the next stage of the journey. The thought of however-many-weeks cooped up with Adelaide and Moonie sniping at each other like she-cats almost made him wish the end of the world would get a move on!

Swan of the seas, he muttered to himself. More like a fuckin' goony-bird. Still - with any luck it'll sink before the sea dries up totally!

Kark - die (from the noise made by a death rattle)
Grak - one of the Streeters' many slang terms for the sexual act