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The Emergency Management Council, or EMC, had told Joseph that the age of his child had been a factor in his not being chosen, for which they were both grateful. By the time the next selection came about that would not help him. In the future, he might very well spend many of his nights far from her bed and in the rooms of the Wardroom.

On the upside, those who lived in these residences were allotted any and all meals in the Wardroom at no charge as it was assigned as their primary cafeteria. For everyone else the price was fixed at one half of a vacation day chit per meal, no matter which meal. Marina had never eaten there before and Sela had never even heard of it prior to her parents informing her of their plans. Joseph had been hosted there, along with the other final candidate, during that last round of selections. He seemed so excited to share this experience with his family, despite the cost, that his feelings had spread to Marina.

Joseph opened the door for them and then handed the attendant, a slight man attired in the pink coveralls of the service industry, three half-day vacation chits and a slip of paper that confirmed their reservation. The man gave the slip only the barest glance and the chits no attention at all as he deftly deposited them into a slot on the podium.

He led them to their table inside the Wardroom proper and Marina found herself resisting the urge to gape as they wound their way through the tables. One wall of the room was covered with a huge screen that was further divided into many smaller rectangular screens. On each of these rectangular portions, a view of some part of the silo appeared. It occurred to her that her childhood bouts of virtue in front of the cameras were seen by someone after all and she had to stifle a nervous giggle at the thought.

Their table, once Marina found herself capable of tearing her eyes from the screen to pay attention to it, was meant for four guests but one place setting had been left off. In the empty place sat a basket of fresh corn rolls and a small dish of perfectly round balls of herbed goat cheese to spread on the rolls. In front of each of the three chairs lay a cotton napkin folded into an elaborate shape.

As they sat and the attendant took his leave, murmuring something about taking their orders, all three couldn’t help but run their hands over the table itself. Though the base was metal and bolted to the floor, the top was made of actual wood. It was banded around the sides with metal to protect the precious edges and polished so smooth the surface gleamed. She let her hand hover over the top and marveled to see the reflection of her palm in the shining surface. Marina had never seen so much wood in all her life and never of such size. The boards that made the top were a hand wide and perhaps two inches thick.

Joseph looked at her, a gleam in his eye, and whispered, “I told you it was special. I’m told that there used to be tables like this all over the place, but these are the only ones left. And what do you think of the screens?”

She looked at the screens again. Their table was situated so that both she and Joseph had an excellent view.  Sela had to turn a bit to see it but she twisted in her chair willingly enough. Marina saw her eyes darting about the views as if cataloging all that she could identify.

“I’m amazed, Joseph. Truly. What do we do with this? Can we use it or is it just for show?” she asked, indicating the complex structure made of her napkin.

“Ah,” he replied. “Just shake it out like so.” He demonstrated for them by flicking the cloth sharply down at his side. He then spread it across his lap the same way they did at home.

Sela twisted back around in her chair and eyed the basket of corn rolls. “Umm…I like it too, but I’m hungry. Can I?”

She had the good manners to wait for an assenting nod, but wasted no time after that, grabbing one and splitting it wide. She speared a ball of the soft cheese with her fork and mashed it onto half of the roll, smearing it with a token swipe of the utensil before taking a huge bite. She chewed hungrily and her cheek distended enough to be comical. She grinned at her mother, small crumbs dotting her lips.

Marina shook her head with half-serious disgust and said, “You could try to eat like we feed you more than once a day, you know. People will think we didn’t raise you right.”

She looked around at the other tables. Another couple was being escorted in and there were four other tables with guests already seated. There were only twelve tables in all and Marina was glad it was not yet full so her daughter’s actions might go unnoticed.

Joseph wisely kept silent but Marina saw the wink he directed at his daughter and the widening of her answering grin. She swallowed loud enough to be heard a few feet away and took a swig of the cold water the attendant had poured into their cups as they were seated. Another stern look directed at Sela seemed to work and she settled down after that. Marina thought perhaps it was merely nervousness that caused her to act out. Whatever it was, it seemed to pass and for that, Marina was grateful.

Their dinner was to come out to them rather than require them to get into a line. While it would be an interesting change, Marina liked to see food before she made choices on what to eat. The family’s habit of eating their evening meal in their quarters rather than slogging it to one of the cafeterias had made her a bit pickier than she would easily admit to. The attendant, introducing himself as Davis, read them their choices and told them that their early dinner reservation meant that all the choices were still available to them.

Of the three choices for their main meal, two included meat, something Marina had never heard of in her life. Instead of responding with a choice, she asked, “How can that possibly not be wasteful?” There was a hint of accusation in her voice that she regretted, that she tried to bite back, but she also wanted to know the answer to her question.

Davis didn’t appear to mind the question, or perhaps he was simply used to it, because his voice didn’t change from the same smooth tones he’d been using. “The Wardroom prides itself on its careful management as well as the quality of its food. There is a strict cut-off for reservations and our menus are planned using those numbers. Early diners, like you, have the widest choices but when it is gone,” he raised his shoulders in a small shrug, “it’s gone. There are no exceptions.”

“What about the residents? The ones who can eat here any time?” she countered.

“They must make the same arrangements as anyone else if they choose one of the two main meal services. Those few that do live here most often eat from what remains or eat elsewhere. Everyone has the same limitation of two meats per week, of course. We have very few people in residence permanently. If there is anything left at the end of a meal, it is used for another meal.” Again, the little shrug came through and she wondered how he did that. How does one shrug without actually shrugging?

Marina felt a bit sorry for the man, considering how often he probably got these questions. She smiled at him, trying to put a little extra warmth into it, and said, “I appreciate your very helpful explanation. I think I can enjoy this meal a great deal more now, thanks to your patience.”

It was perhaps a bit over the top and she saw Joseph’s eyebrows tick upward from the corner of her eye, but it worked and Davis’ expression relaxed. He was no less formal but the chill was gone and there was a decidedly friendly tone as he advised them on their choices and took orders.

He brought them a metal pitcher sweating with condensation and filled three more cups with tea. It smelled like green heaven and had nasturtium blossoms floating in it. Davis plucked a pair of slender sticks from a pocket and deftly deposited one of the flowers into Sela’s cup. He winked at her surprised expression and left without a word. Joseph chortled under his breath at her while Sela just stared at Davis’ retreating back. Marina was delighted with the whole experience.