Page 21 of Instinct for Disaster

“Thank you, now, can anyone help me order?”

Yasku said, “Water and juice first.”

Nessa looked at Cassandra. “You didn’t bring water?”

“No.”

“Oh. Shoot.” The screen appeared when she waved her hand over a circle in the table, and she started tapping requests that were next to images on her screen.

Cassandra cautiously waved over the nearest circle in front of her. The menu popped up, and the beverages were there with descriptions in common and other languages. She flicked her fingers and saw small plates and large plates for sharing.

“Sharing food?”

A server came by with bowls of warm water, and another was standing behind that server with drinks.

They washed their hands and dried them in the bowls that had been brought.

Yasku said, “Sharing food is common in Coybel communities.”

“It seems a good way to try everything. Are the condiments the same?”

He shook his head. “The Coybel use set seasonings, but if your friend brought you here, she knows your palate.”

Nessa nodded. “It is similar to proper Mexican food with bright flavours and lots of vegetables with flatbread accents.”

“Oh. Lovely.”

They discussed the food between the three of them, and Nessa did all the ordering.

When they were settled and waiting, Nessa cleared her throat. “May I ask about the matching bracelets?”

Yasku chuckled. “Your friend is reckless and hardheaded. The cuff manages to monitor her biological situation and her location. I have experienced intrigue, fascination, excitement, nervousness, and then a strange one I am unfamiliar with. It is a combination of hunger, thirst, and irritation.”

Nessa smiled. “That one is called hangry. Hungry-angry. I don’t know how many Terrans still get it, but Cassandra is definitely one of them.”

The first round of appetizers arrived, and Cassandra watched them eat before doing the same. Yasku asked, “How did you meet Cassandra?”

Nessa finished chewing and said, “She rode up to us on a white horse with six months of supplies and a dozen chickens, one rooster. I was at a camp with six teens who had been there for a weekend trip. The adults had all taken off when the asteroid hit. The girls thought their families would come until we heard that the city we came from had been destroyed. We hunkered down and were fine for a month or so with the existing supplies, but then, Cassandra showed up with her livestock, and she explained that things were about to get much worse. She helped us ration our supplies, and we used the hay and straw that were on the premises. She organized us and taught us how to cut wood and drag it into storage so that we would have it when the weather turned bitter, and it did. Storms shook our building, but she had helped reinforce it. She had hunted for deer, skinned and butchered it so our girls had enough to eat. She was amazing, but yeah, she probably has PTSD. Stress-induced shock for lack of a direct translation.”

Cassandra muttered around a mouthful, “Battle fatigue, but the fight never stops.”

Yasku smiled. “So, you know. You know that you weren’t categorized correctly.”

“Oh, yeah. I looked up the null definition and category and knew it would suit me, so I didn’t argue with the experts.”

Nessa shook her head. “That sounds like you. You were that way all during our sheltering time.”

Cassandra shrugged and looked around at the faces in the restaurant. These were going to become her people. It was a view she needed to get used to.

Nessa asked casually, “Cass, are you wearing weapons?”

“A few. Not as many as I had at home.”

Nessa snorted. “Boy, were they surprised.”

Yasku said, “I sense a story.”

“Oh, yes, Overseer. Cassandra is a vicious warrior when defending her own. Several wanderers came to our shelter in the early days, realized that we were two women and a bunch of children, and attempted to take over. Cassandra took them outside, and no one returned until she came back covered with blood. It was the first time she defended us.” Nessa sighed. “It was not the last.”

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