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Part 1: The Valley FOOD. FOOD. FOOD. NOW. Kellerman forces himself awake, shaking the vestiges of dream off him, belly aching. Slowly he extracts himself from his wife's sleeping limbs and rolls off the bed. A moue of discontent flits over her face, but she turns and settles back into what he hopes is a peaceful sleep. Fuck, he is hungry. Still groggy he stumbles into the kitchen and starts the joh. Slaps the newsvid off and heads straight for the shower. No rest for the wicked, he thinks, trying to put together the scattered images of excess that was the previous evening. He takes in moisture through his pores, his head clearing enough to get him dressed and out the door before his wife stirs. See you tonight he half mouths, half utters aloud, half hopes, knowing she hears him in the dark warmth. He quickly drains his joh and with a last deep breath of his home's sex-tinged air, he exits. Outside is a riot of smells and heat. Following his nose, he joins the swarms of aimless males heading for work. Already perspiring freely he finds and falls in with his usual Clique and joins the messy labor-queue. The day's news floats by. WAR. WAR IMMINENT! His head aches. Please, please give me the food source. I hate going to
war, and peace talks are so, well, demeaning, not to mention dangerous.
After an interminable confusion, bumping against the throng, he reaches
the head of the queue. He gets tagged for Nute-retrieval (Yes!), handed
his daily ration and bundled off to the Harvesters.
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