Page 18 of Kiss of Steel

“Three credits. Meals include a drink and a dessert.” She swiped the card. “Lunch is two credits; breakfast is one.”

“How many credits do I have left now?”

“Fifty-two. Next!”

Honoria pocketed her card and scooted out of the way, joining the food line.

He paid for his meal and followed suit.

She peered through the glass barrier at the vats of food. Another quadrubrachian checked a screen to verify the diner had paid, then ladled out the food, slapped the bowl onto a tray, and passed it over the barrier. “I’ll get us a table.” She scooted down the line to collect a drink and a dessert.

The server squinted at his readout. With a shrug, he ladled out the food.

Honoria had chosen a table for ten. Six others were already there, but at least she’d claimed an end spot for them. He would have hated to be boxed in in the middle. He glanced around the noisy mess hall. All the tables were communal, and most were filled. A line to get in stretched out the door.

He swung his leg over the bench and set his tray on the table.

Her eyes widened. “Threemeals?”

“I haven’t eaten since landing on Refuge.”

She looked aghast. “They didn’t feed you?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think about food.”

“In a week?”

“I’m thinking about it now. Let’s eat.” He dug into the meal to discourage further questions, and because he was ravenous. He couldn’t explain his eating habits had been imposed upon him. Missions, which took him away from base for several days at a time, generally allowed him to fit in the allocated two meals per week, but occasionally he missed one. Solutions allotted two 12,000-calorie chalky, tasteless nutri-sup slurries per week. He metabolized food differently than humans. His body received the nutrition it needed, but it came in a couple of megadoses.

Although he’d ingested common human fare during his brief time on the lam,foodstill seemed like a novelty, a delicacy. He forked a mouthful, enjoying the savory, spicy flavors.

She took a tentative bite, her expression thoughtful. “Not bad. What do you think we’re eating?” she whispered.

“Animal protein.”

“Horniger?”

“I imagine so.”

“Horniger stew.” She poked at some blobs in her bowl. “These are probably vegetables or maybe dumplings.”

“I spotted a greenhouse behind the barn outside the fence.” He forked one of the blobs into his mouth. Soft. Doughy. Plant-based. Starchy. Was that a dumpling? He’d never had them. It didn’t have much flavor by itself, but smothered in gravy transformed into something delicious.

He made short work of three bowls of stew and then pulled a dessert dish closer. Because it came with the entrée, he’d gotten three of those too. He spooned some purple goo into his mouth.

“Well?” she asked. “What does it taste like?”

“It’s…fruity, a little sweet, but I can’t explain it.”

“Berries, maybe?”

“I don’t know.” He had no idea what berries tasted like, never having had them. His restricted diet did not give him a frame of reference for comparison.

She dipped her spoon into her dessert. “It tastes like banana pudding! Like the inside of a banana cream pie.”

He resumed eating.

“You don’t think so?”

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