Written for the Write on Edge writing challenge. A story about a man who would not listen to friendly advice begins after the photo.
Genre: Science Fiction
A Rude Guest
“In here, sir,” said Ali as he pulled the tent flap open to the entryway.
Senator Praxmold threw off the native robe with a sneer. “God it stinks like that…animal.”
“It is called a Camel, sir.”
“I know what it’s called,” snapped Praxmold. “We couldn’t use civilized tranportation?”
“Only the camels can reach the nomadic peoples of the stones.”
“Yeah fine. I don’t see how a bunch of ragheads know anything about making the most beautiful stones in explored space. I thought I would be touring the manufacturing facility.”
Ali looked askance and adjusted his turban. “It is a special process known only to the colonist bedouins of Abraxus III, sir. You will see very soon.”
Ali led Praxmold into the main tent where he was greeted enthusiastically by the Chieftain, Hijalma. They sat upon impossibly soft, velvet cushions. Native wines and honey meade were brought out, served by Hijalma’s beautiful three daughters. Praxmold was unimpressed and repeatedly complained about the heat.
Food arrived and Ali clapped his hands glee. “The dinner table of Chieftain Hijalma is the best in all Abraxus III. This is Koobideh*. Food fit for Kings.”
Praxmold poked at the meat with his finger. “Looks gross,” he said loudly. “How about a ham sandwich?”
Ali whispered in the silence that followed. “Abraxans are descended from Muslim peoples on Earth. They are the most gracious hosts, but they do not tolerate rude guests well. It is good to remember this.”
“Yeah, well I’m a fracking Senator,” he snapped, then turned to wink at Hijalma’s youngest daughter.
Ali spoke hurriedly in Arabic and smoothed ruffled feathers. Five women were brought forth, all in their mid-thirties, and each sang a song or recited a poem. Ali grinned and said to Praxmold, “You may pick one now.”
“Huh? Are you kidding? This is the best you’ve got?”
“Sir. They are not for sex, Let me explain…”
“Look, you ragheads clearly don’t know how a Junket works. You show me a good time with hot babes…” He paused to pull the youngest daughter into his lap. “…Like this one, and I clear your products through customs.”
The girl and squirmed away and fled the tent, screaming.
“Sir! You cannot touch the Chieftain’s daughter. She can never marry now!”
Praxmold wasn’t listening. He was more concerned about the Chieftain holding a curved sword at his neck.”
“Ali! Get me out of here!” Praxmold pulled on the chains that bound him to a wooden post. One with the deep tooth marks.
Ali looked at him with small sympathy. “Now you will know why Abraxus Stones are so rare. It is the chemical reaction of the human body inside the intestines of the Great Sand Snake. A stone is the snake’s waste. Thus, it requires a human sacrifice. You were supposed to select the sacrifice, but now, Chieftain Hijalma has selected YOU.”
“I’m a fracking Senator!”
There’s a terrific group of writers attending the weekly Write on Edge writing prompts. Up to 500 words from an image or sentence prompt. Won’t you join us here: http://writeonedge.com/2014/02/writing-prompt-2014-week-6/