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“What?”
She glanced at him, and her hand flexed on his wrist. “No one was coming for us. We tried to survive, tried to make everything last, but we knew we were the living dead. Our species hadn’t reached space. We didn’t know anyone could come, so we stripped away manners to the bare bones; we pooled resources to try and make everything last so when we died, it would be together. We tried to live and prepared to die for two years.”
He frowned. “It sounds stressful.”
“Oh, it was. The wit is the relief of tension. We achieved our goal. We survived. Now we have to learn to live again, and that requires wit, humour, and hope. We have to be the minority, learn languages and races that we could not imagine.”
“You are doing well so far.”
“Thanks. I try.”
“How long can you try before you break?”
She took in a deep breath of the crisp ship’s air. “Let’s find out.”
He nodded, and they walked into a room that was bustling with crew who were eating and chattering.
“This is the live food section.” He walked her to a section marked in green and red. “We have looked up what is safe for you, and it is anything with the light green and red.”
She looked and teared up at the salad, the oils, and spices nearby. He walked her over to the line and smiled. “Chef, this is the new live eater, Aya. She needs bright red.”
The chef smiled. “If there ever isn’t anything in bright red, come to this counter, tell the chef on duty, and they will get you something to eat. Can you eat raw?”
“Any parasites?”
He jerked and smiled. “No, the meat is clean.”
“Then, if I have access to spices, I can eat raw.”
The chef looked at her. “Education Station?”
“Yup. Asteroid strike. Two years to pick up.”
He winced and nodded. “I understand.”
She nodded. “Good because I don’t want to use gory details.”
Her stomach growled. “So what is on the menu today?”
He smiled. “How much can you eat?”
She didn’t know the measurement, but she held her hands out, thumbs to middle fingers. “This much.”
He grinned, and she was given a tray with a block of slow-cooked steak that was falling apart as she looked at it. He slid a roasted root vegetable next to it and said, “You have already seen the greens. We always have them available, and they are kept fresh at all times.”
Aya beamed. “Thank you.”
“Aggression?” The chef asked.
“Oh, sorry. Happy. I have had my face covered for a few years. I forgot what it looks like to other species. I will close my lips.”
“We will adapt. Other species have different appearances of emotion. It is good to learn and accept.”
She was fighting a drool wave. She nodded. “I have to go eat. Thank you again.”
She nodded with the soother nod that she had been taught, and the chef looked from her to Devran. Devran put a hand on her lower back and nudged her toward the greens buffet. Aya got a simple salad with a light oil and citric juice dressing, and she headed toward the tables, only to be redirected with a hand around her waist to a table set apart from the others. He snagged the implements she would need to take apart her meal, and when she was seated, he went and got water and tea.
When he carried the tray back to her, the room got weirdly quiet. His eyes crinkled, and he set the beverages on the table. “Your scans indicated dehydration. You must keep up with your personal maintenance until your body stabilizes.”
