“Nope,” I said, turning the little corn chunk in my fingers. “ ‘Beats’ is a cool name though. Isn’t it strange that we used to consume piles of this stuff every day?”
“Yeah,” Maksim said. “The names and…and the…mouth smell? The way your mouth distinguishes foods? That stuff? All gone. Can’t remember for the life of me. I swear I used to like some of this stuff and hate some of it.”
“I am fortunate to have lost that part of my memory entirely,” Chet said. “I don’t recall ever eating. And I’m happy for it. Mashing such things up inside your mouth? It would stick to your teeth and tongue! Then you swallow? Force it down your throat in wet clumps held together by saliva? No, I shall pass, my friends.” He set the corn on the plate.
I understood the sentiment; thinking about it made my skin crawl. And yet, I did recall some…latent happiness associated with eating. I put the little bit of corn in my mouth, then winced. It was somehow both slimy and firm at the same time. I mashed it between my teeth a few times, and it popped, releasing the most awful texture. Like it had been filled with mud. I barely prevented myself from gagging.
“Surreal, isn’t it?” Maksim ate one of the bits, his eye twitching as he forced himself to swallow it. Swallowing food…how had I never noticed how bizarre that was? M-Bot was right. Why did we put food where air went?
I spat my corn bits into a napkin Maksim handed me. “That’s disgusting,” I said, then wiped off my tongue. “That definitely didn’t inspire me to remember anything.”
Still, I forced myself to try the other stuff. It at least appeared to be bleeding, which might have been where the cool name came from. It was even more slimy, but this time I was prepared. I was a warrior descended from warriors. I could eat a beat. It was nauseating. It…
Wait.
What was that? I…had tried this once, in the mess hall at the DDF, where they had odd heritage foods from the gardens. I remembered Nedd’s face as he laughed—I’d made the very same joke about the name. I remembered Jorgen smiling, FM explaining how much she liked the food, Kimmalyn watching and nodding, Arturo lecturing us on how it was grown…
A perfect picture in time, all of their faces suddenly clear to me. Scud, I missed them. I needed to get home, to be with them again.
More, I needed to protect them. From the delvers.
I’m trying, I thought. And I’m coming. I promise.
“That was disgusting and wonderful together at once,” I said to Maksim and Chet. “It’s so strange that it is so strange. I only left the somewhere…” How long ago had it been? I forcibly brought out the numbers M-Bot gave me each morning. “…just under a month ago.”
“This place changes you fast,” Maksim said. “And then makes you feel like you’re in limbo…” After trying the beat, he walked back to the table to get some other samples.
Chet wandered over to Shiver, who was talking about how odd she found our means of ingesting. So inefficient, in her words. Better to just grow over patches of minerals and use them as you need them. I rested back against the wall and found myself smiling again.
I belonged here. Granted, I’d belonged other places too. I could faintly remember similar evenings with my friends at the DDF headquarters. But I also remembered pain. Fear. Loss. Hurl’s death. Worry for Jorgen.
Here, I didn’t have those same fears. And scud, I had to admit these last few weeks had been invigorating—exciting. First the exploration, then infiltrating pirates? Now earning their trust, defeating their champion?
This had been thrilling. Like a story, like the things I’d always imagined myself doing. As before, while exploring with Chet, I felt a faint sense of guilt to be enjoying myself while my friends back home were in danger. But then again, the real danger was the delvers, and I was working on that as best I could. And didn’t I deserve to rest between fights?
Every warrior needed a break, didn’t they? A Valhalla? An Elysium? The stories understood. In the greatest of warrior societies, there was a reward for those who spent their days killing.
The group began calling for me to tell another story, so I walked back toward the light. I’d offer them three different options, like Gran-Gran had done for me when I was a child.
I did love my friends, and I was doing everything I could to help them. So I determined not to feel guilty for finding a place where I could live the life I’d always wanted. I had been exiled. But in that, like Satan from the stories, I had found a place I could make into heaven itself.
Right then, the base’s scanner’s alarm started going crazy.
Chapter 31
“Imminent collision of this fragment with…” Nuluba trailed off, glancing up from the scanner data toward all of us, gathered around the machine.
“With what?” Peg demanded.
“With another fragment,” Nuluba said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The fragment is coming in so quickly… Scanner says impact is in only half an hour.”
I shared a look with Chet, whose expression was grim. Last time, the incoming fragment had completely annihilated the one we were on.
“Get people to ships and ready to evacuate,” Peg announced.
“Captain!” Nuluba said. “We have five ships down for maintenance to prepare for the assault! We can get them up and flying, but in a half hour? Plus, if we abandon the base, we’ll lose equipment, spare parts, diagnostics…”
Scud. As we’d been getting ready for the party earlier, the ground crews had started their jobs—assuming they’d have three days to fine-tune the starfighters for our upcoming assault.
“Evacuate anyway,” Peg said, “just in case.”
“Also, Nuluba,” I said, “send the scanner data to my ship.”
“What? Why—”
“Do it!” I said, running for M-Bot, Chet on my heels. I hauled myself up on the wing, then helped Chet with a hand up. M-Bot popped open the cockpit, and we leaped in as he lit up the ship’s dash.
“I’m getting data direct from the scanner,” he said. “Oh my. That’s bad.”
“Math it!” I said. “Can we do anything?”
“Calculating… That one coming in is a lot smaller… The Broadsiders have access to six light-lances for maneuvering ships…” A bunch of figures popped up on my screen. “Done,” he said. “There’s time. Barely.”
“We lift the entire fragment that’s coming toward us?” Chet said, reading the instructions. “Bold!”
“And possible,” M-Bot said. “Only if you move quickly, Spensa. I mean, I know you really enjoyed the last collision, but…”
I stood up and shouted toward Peg as she rushed by. “I’ve got another option, Peg!”
Peg pulled to a stop, looking toward me.
“Me and five other ships pulling with light-lances,” I said, “can move that incoming fragment upward just enough to avoid us. But we have to be quick about it!”
She didn’t miss a beat. She shouted for everyone else to keep evacuating, but organized a small crew to execute M-Bot’s plan.
I settled in the cockpit and glanced back at Chet. “You’d never encountered this before that first time?”
“Nope,” he said, putting on a helmet.
“And now it’s happened to us twice?”
“Yup.”
“You know what I told you earlier, about not being worried that the delvers might know where we are?”
“Indeed.”
“Pretend I said something intelligent instead.”