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Wildling
Fifty-one: Coffee Coffee Coffee

Fifty-one: Coffee Coffee Coffee

DAY NINE—ONE DAY BEFORE EXECUTION

ONE HOUR BEFORE THE INVASION

I blinked myself awake and rolled over to face the opening of the lean-to. The sun was just beginning to rise, the sky a deep shade of indigo. And something…

Something smelled glorious.

Earthy and nutty…like chocolate, almost? I sniffed the air, breathing the aroma in deep.

Ezzie said, making me jump.

I said. I sat up and rolled my shoulders, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Is that what I think it is?” Nathan said out of nowhere, making me jump yet again. “Can’t be.”

Ezzie said.

“Is what…why are you awake?” I said. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Why are you here?”

Nathan was staring at the contraption that Ezzie had printed atop the coffee bar. The whole thing looked vaguely dirty, its white plastic housing slightly yellowed, as if with age. “Oh my god I was right,” Nathan said. “I knew I recognized that smell. You actually have it.”

Ezzie said.

My Constructor bobbed over to Nathan and began printing a mug in the air before him, right at chest level. He snatched it out of the air as soon as the Constructor was finished, then cradled it with both hands, as if it were already precious.

He looked a little afraid, honestly. Or maybe awed?

“I can…” he cut off, nodding at the black liquid that was still dripping into a glass kettle that sat within the coffee contraption.

Ezzie said.

I shrugged as my Constructor started in on a mug of my own. “Help yourself.”

Nathan walked over, taking great care with his mug, as if he were treading hallowed ground. He reached out a tentative hand and grabbed the kettle by its handle, then filled his mug with the steaming black liquid. He looked to me, to the coffee, then back again.

Ezzie said.

“Something wrong?” I said.

He shook his head with no small amount of violence. “Don’t wanna seem ungrateful…”

“…But?” I said.

“Any chance…”

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Ezzie said.

“Sugar?” I said.

He nodded, eyes widening.

Ezzie said.

“Ezzie said the sugar should be in the top right drawer. And there’s something called creamer in there, too, if you wanna try that. Really sweet.>

Nathan opened the drawer like he was afraid it was going to crumble at his touch. He pulled out two shiny white cubes and dropped them carefully—almost lovingly—into his mug, without spilling so much as a drop. “I…” he cut off again, swallowing. He dropped his eyes to his mug and licked his lips.

“Go on,” I said, because it seemed like he wanted permission. “We’ve got an endless supply, so.”

Nathan lifted the mug to his lips and inhaled deeply. He took a sip and just stood there for a long time, staring down into the black liquid. His eyes were all shiny, and his breathing was quick and shallow. He squeezed his eyes shut, nodded at me, then left.

I said.

Ezzie said.

I said. I crossed the room and poured myself a mug.

Ezzie said.

I said.

I took a sip. Then moaned very softly.

Ezzie said.

I took another, much deeper sip.

I said.

Ezzie said, as the Constructor’s lasers stripped the top layer of the mug away.

I snatched the mug away and turned my back on the Constructor.

Ezzie said.

I said, relenting.

Ezzie said.

“Hey,” the Dummy said. “Hey, hey guys! Hey guys!”

I said.

“Hey guys! Hey guys hey guys hey guys!”

I said.

Ezzie said.

I walked over to the Dummy, the coffee still steaming in my hand. “What’s up?”

“Watcha got over there,” the Dummy said. “Smells good.”

“Coffee.”

The Dummy sniffed. “Coffee, yeah? Lemme get some of that.”

I cocked my head. “Sure…but how does that work?”

“Just throw at me,” the Dummy said. “I’ll absorb it.”

“It’s hot,” I said. “It’s really, really hot.”

“It’s fine I can take it, I can take it real good,” the Dummy said.

“Uh, this isn’t like a sex thing, is it?” I said. “I really wanna know if this is a sex thing before I participate. Also I won’t.”

“It’s a beverage thing,” the Dummy said. “Calm your spout.”

“My spout?” I said, the words getting drowned out by Ezzie’s internal laughter. “Ugh.” I threw the mug’s dark contents in the Dummy’s face.

“Oh god, the face!” the Dummy said, screaming its head off. It flailed about in obvious, horrible pain. “why would you throw it at my face!”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“I’m just messing with you,” the Dummy said. “Mmm, that’s nice. Notes of chocolate, a bit of a fruity finish. My guess is South American, but possibly central. Definitely somewhere with volcanic soil. But I still hate you.”

“…What the hell is your problem?” I said.

“Problem’s that I exist to get the crap kicked out of me every day,” the Dummy said. “That would make you grumpy too.”

I thought about that, then inclined my head. “Fair enough, Dummy. You make a compelling argument.”

Ezzie said.

I blanched.

“Dummy, do you have a name?”

“Yes,” the Dummy said.

“…And that would be?”

“That would be none of your business, you big-headed bitch.”

I frowned.

Ezzie laughed through the link.

I said.

Ezzie said.