The Attendant Part 3:
The Soup
****
"Let's see it, let's see it," they heard Prime say as Hordak led then to the dining room. "Ah!" Prime exclaimed upon seeing Catra in the hall, his face brightening. "Yes! Stunning! You've killed me on impact!"
"One could only hope," Catra said, smiling graciously. Her hand hovered over her exposed breast.
"Something needs to be on this wrist," Prime said, gently lifting her hand away with a single talon. Catra's mouth twitched as Prime looked her up and down. "Turn for me," he ordered.
Catra made a face but did as he requested.
Prime smiled. "Is it to your taste, Lady Catra? I designed it myself. Tell me, does it not slap?"
"It slaps hard, Emperor," Catra replied flatly. To be fair, it did.
"Lovely! Queen Glimmer, you simply must dress your Lady in clothes more suited to her. With that shape she could pull off most anything, but in this...ah, she's a masterpiece. Beautiful!" He took Catra's hand and kissed it. "And do not think I've forgotten you, my Queen," Prime said, kissing her hand as well. "Come come! I hope you two are hungry, I've had quite the feast prepared. That stays outside," Prime said, glancing back at Hordak, who looked longingly after the girls, but took an obedient post by the door.
***
Prime led them into the dining room - more of a hall, really, a cavernous and sterile space holding a single huge table. Catra and Glimmer nearly stumbled over a dead clone as they walked in. Glimmer gasped. Her hand shot out and grabbed Catra's.
"Do watch your step," Prime said. "There's a few scattered about."
Catra swallowed. "Do you ... normally eat with dead clones, Emperor?"
Prime waved this off. "Pshh. You know how they are."
"I'm afraid I don't, Emperor. Do clones normally drop dead?" Glimmer blurted. "Will my attendant?"
"Your attendant should be so lucky," Prime said, his voice gone dangerously quiet. But he shook it off. Pulled out chairs on either side of his at the head of the table. "Please, sit, ladies. I'm glad you're here. I had the most trying day, and I'm in need of your delightful company. Sit, sit."
Catra released Glimmer's hand with a reluctance that surprised her and took a seat on Prime's left, and Glimmer to his right. Prime sat at the head of the table with an overly long, exhausted sigh that indicated he was begging to be asked about his trying day. But neither of them asked. A long few moments went by and he sighed again, longer, louder, and with an edge of impatience.
"Tell us about your trying day, Emperor," Catra finally said.
"I'm so glad you asked!" Prime said brightly. "And please, call me Prime. Emperor is so stuffy. Ah, the food's here!" he chirped. Two clones placed bowls of soup before the girls, but nothing for him.
"No soup for you, Prime?" Glimmer asked.
"Oh I'm not in the habit of eating," he said, grinning. "Try it."
Catra and Glimmer glanced nervously at one another.
"What, um… what kind of soup … is this?" Glimmer asked lightly. It was a thick grey sludge garnished with a dollop of white cream and little green flecks.
"It's the soup you want," Prime said, grinning.
"Is...is it?" Glimmer asked, looking down at her bowl of pale slop.
"Oh yes," Prime said. "It's the best soup you've ever had."
"How do you figure?" Catra asked flatly.
"It's a gene soup," Prime said. "It's a you soup, produced from your own genetic code. Prions removed, of course. We can't have your proteins folding incorrectly, now can we?"
Catra and Glimmer looked blankly at Prime.
"So…cannibalism?" Catra asked.
"What!?" Glimmer asked.
"Autocannibalism," Catra corrected.
"What!?" Glimmer repeated.
"We're eating bowls of ourselves," Catra said.
"Essentially. It's quite nutritious - excellent for the telomeres- and tailored to taste exquisite to you uniquely. The same recipe - delivered via port, of course - allows my clones to live long and healthy lives."
Catra and Glimmer spared a glance for the dead clones littering the floor.
"That was not due to the soup," Prime said. "Now eat."
