Deathwalker 9.0

            Lunch was an educational experience on multiple levels.
            Kith guided me through the scattered crew to the microcook. Automatically, I accessed the menu and goggled at the lengthy list of exotic foods. So many! And most were foods I’d never even heard of. Scanning the list of new foods to try, my mouth watered, and I hesitated, my hand hovering over the selection screen. What to start with?
            “Foods with ingredients available to you are marked.” Kith’s mammoth hand moved to the display, and I quickly jerked mine out of the way. I winced mentally, but he didn’t seem to notice. When his hand paused a millimeter away from the screen, I realized that he was pointing to a little symbol next to several of the meals. “Others require personal property.”
            Personal property. That had to mean unique spices or ingredients which meant – I leaned closer. Yep. There went most of the exotic options. Oh well. With a little shrug, I picked one of the remaining mysteries.
            “If I pay for the extra ingredients, would I be able to try some of the others?” I asked as the microcook lit and began to hum. There was no answer. Turning to lean back on the counter while it worked, I looked up to find Kith giving me another of those long considering glances. His eyes really were well made. They conveyed emotions better than any man-made eyes I’d ever seen before. They had to be expensive. Just how much did this crew make?
            “It would be up to the crewmember who purchased the item,” he said slowly. “Are the offerings insufficient?”
            “Oh, no,” I said hurriedly. “But there are foods here I’ve never tried before.”
            “You do not recognize most of the available foods?”
            “What?” I frowned. “No, I know most of those foods.”
            “Then, what is the problem?” Kith’s expression didn’t change, but I could hear the frown in his voice.
            “I wouldn’t call it a problem,” I said, blinking. “I don’t have to try the new foods if it’s too difficult.” Which, apparently, it was. Oh, well. I could always ask again later.
            The microcook dinged. Pulling out the plate, I caught a whiff of strange spices and flavors I had no names for. The question of the other meals was forgotten as I carried it eagerly to the table. Something new to try!


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