shirt looks better on you that it ever did on me.”
Menace stood next to the dining table and grinned at her.
He held two plates in his big hands. “I hope you like
scrambled eggs.”
“I do.” She couldn’t quite believe Menace had made
her something to eat. “No man has ever cooked for me.”
“Wel, I should warn you that I’m not much of a
cook.” He placed the plates on the table. “You might
take one bite and wish I’d stayed in that category of men
who never fed you.”
“I doubt it.” She moved closer to the table and eyed
the food he had prepared. The bowl of fruit in the center
of the table held her attention. It had been so long since
she’d had an orange. They were some of the only native
Earth fruits that had survived the long journey in the
generation ships to be transplanted on Calyx. As such,
they were precious and ridiculously expensive.
He must have noticed her lingering gaze. “Food
supplies are stable here and my salary has a generous
grocery alotment.”
grocery alotment.”
She decided not to point out that food supplies
onboard the Valiant were so stable because they
required such high quotas of food from Calyx as part of
the treaty. Fruit and meat were so outrageously
expensive in places like Connor’s Run because the sky
warriors here loved them so much.
Instead of arguing about political arrangements, she
remarked, “You eat the same things we do.”
He nodded and returned to the kitchen for a carton
and two glasses. “You’d be surprised how similar
foodstuffs are from planet to planet. At least in this end of
the galaxy,” he amended. “Your people prepare some
foods differently than we do and we tend to prefer
heavier use of spices, but overal our diets are similar.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
He shot her a strange look. “Why? What did you think
we eat?”
“Food in boxes, mostly.”
“Boxes?” His expression turned to one of amusement.
“You mean war rations?”
She shrugged and puled out her chair. “I guess.”
“When did you taste war rations?” He gestured for her
to sit.
to sit.
“There was a transport ship crash when I was a little
girl. Your people came to our aid during the Merkorian
invasion. One of your ships blew up over our heads.
There were miles of debris. My father took me with him
to scavenge.”
“And you found rations,” he guessed.
“They were terrible.” She made a face as the memory
of the salty, dry food resurfaced. “They kept me alive
though. There had been a bad drought that summer and
no harvest. The winter was especialy harsh that year.
When Daddy was kiled, I hoarded them so I wouldn’t
starve.”
“Your father died during the invasion?” He pushed a
glass in front of her.
She sat down and reached for a fork. “He’d taken us
—my brother Nattie and me,” she clarified, “into the
sewer systems under the town. For some reason those
things couldn’t hunt down there.”
“It’s their eyes,” Menace said and gestured to his with
a fork. “They need a certain amount of light to process
shapes and colors and shades. It’s why we developed
weapons that target their faces. The skin is the secondary
weapons that target their faces. The skin is the secondary
target on a Merkorian amphibicore. They require a
certain amount of moisture to keep their scaly, slimy
skins alive.” He opened the carton and poured blue liquid
into his glass. “How long were you down there?”
“Three weeks,” she said and purposely pushed the
gross memories into the farthest recesses of her mind.
“We were in the storm drain sections mostly, so it wasn’t
too horrifying. I was only nine at the time. Daddy was
able to make it into a big adventure at first so I wasn’t
too afraid, but then a week became two and I started to
wonder if I would ever see sunlight again.” She laughed
as the good memories shone through for once. “Daddy
came up with al these games and
Menace stood next to the dining table and grinned at her.
He held two plates in his big hands. “I hope you like
scrambled eggs.”
“I do.” She couldn’t quite believe Menace had made
her something to eat. “No man has ever cooked for me.”
“Wel, I should warn you that I’m not much of a
cook.” He placed the plates on the table. “You might
take one bite and wish I’d stayed in that category of men
who never fed you.”
“I doubt it.” She moved closer to the table and eyed
the food he had prepared. The bowl of fruit in the center
of the table held her attention. It had been so long since
she’d had an orange. They were some of the only native
Earth fruits that had survived the long journey in the
generation ships to be transplanted on Calyx. As such,
they were precious and ridiculously expensive.
He must have noticed her lingering gaze. “Food
supplies are stable here and my salary has a generous
grocery alotment.”
grocery alotment.”
She decided not to point out that food supplies
onboard the Valiant were so stable because they
required such high quotas of food from Calyx as part of
the treaty. Fruit and meat were so outrageously
expensive in places like Connor’s Run because the sky
warriors here loved them so much.
Instead of arguing about political arrangements, she
remarked, “You eat the same things we do.”
He nodded and returned to the kitchen for a carton
and two glasses. “You’d be surprised how similar
foodstuffs are from planet to planet. At least in this end of
the galaxy,” he amended. “Your people prepare some
foods differently than we do and we tend to prefer
heavier use of spices, but overal our diets are similar.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
He shot her a strange look. “Why? What did you think
we eat?”
“Food in boxes, mostly.”
“Boxes?” His expression turned to one of amusement.
“You mean war rations?”
She shrugged and puled out her chair. “I guess.”
“When did you taste war rations?” He gestured for her
to sit.
to sit.
“There was a transport ship crash when I was a little
girl. Your people came to our aid during the Merkorian
invasion. One of your ships blew up over our heads.
There were miles of debris. My father took me with him
to scavenge.”
“And you found rations,” he guessed.
“They were terrible.” She made a face as the memory
of the salty, dry food resurfaced. “They kept me alive
though. There had been a bad drought that summer and
no harvest. The winter was especialy harsh that year.
When Daddy was kiled, I hoarded them so I wouldn’t
starve.”
“Your father died during the invasion?” He pushed a
glass in front of her.
She sat down and reached for a fork. “He’d taken us
—my brother Nattie and me,” she clarified, “into the
sewer systems under the town. For some reason those
things couldn’t hunt down there.”
“It’s their eyes,” Menace said and gestured to his with
a fork. “They need a certain amount of light to process
shapes and colors and shades. It’s why we developed
weapons that target their faces. The skin is the secondary
weapons that target their faces. The skin is the secondary
target on a Merkorian amphibicore. They require a
certain amount of moisture to keep their scaly, slimy
skins alive.” He opened the carton and poured blue liquid
into his glass. “How long were you down there?”
“Three weeks,” she said and purposely pushed the
gross memories into the farthest recesses of her mind.
“We were in the storm drain sections mostly, so it wasn’t
too horrifying. I was only nine at the time. Daddy was
able to make it into a big adventure at first so I wasn’t
too afraid, but then a week became two and I started to
wonder if I would ever see sunlight again.” She laughed
as the good memories shone through for once. “Daddy
came up with al these games and
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