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fresh food you want, the dispenser’s over here,” I told him, pointing out the recess on the opposite side of the galley. “The ship needs about ten minutes to thaw out whatever you decide on, and operating instructions for the broiler grill-oven are in that cabinet, right next to the seasoning, utensils and plates.

    If you don’t like syntho, you have to cook your own. Enjoy your meal.”
    For the second time in five minutes I started to walk around him, but even a ten-year-old could have blocked the doorway without trying. Val, about as far as you can get from a ten-year-old, was trying, and what a surprise that turned out to be.
    “I’m not very good at following instructions like that,” the man who had helped rebuild my ship said in a coaxing voice, at the same time looking down at me with a smile in his dark black eyes. “Why don’t you stay here and help me, and then we can both enjoy the meal.”
    I let myself stiffen enough for him to notice, then glared up at him.
    “You don’t have to rub it in!” I hissed with enough venom to widen his eyes in startlement. “If I knew how to cook, don’t you think I’d be eating food instead of syntho? Don’t think you can embarrass me about it, because you can’t! I’m good enough at enough other things that cooking doesn’t mean a thing!
    Not a thing! Now, get out of my way!”
    He retreated in confusion at my tirade, giving me enough room to stalk out of the galley, then let me carry my coffee away to the control room without saying a word. I settled myself and the coffee in the pilot’s seat, activated the forward screens, then grinned faintly as I sipped and watched our not-yet-visible progress through the deep black. Syntho might not taste very good until you got used to it, but it was more nutritionally balanced than natural food, it helped keep you in better shape physically during a dead-time trip like the one we were currently on-and it was incredibly convenient for people like me who didn’t care to be bothered with cooking. If Val reacted to my play-acting the way I expected him to, I’d have my choice of the syntho or an already-cooked meal of natural food for the rest of the trip.
    Already-cooked by Val. If he ever found out I cooked well enough to suit just about anybody I’d probably have to defend myself, but life without risk is nothing more than existing. I put my heels up on the edge of the board, sipped at my coffee, and began thinking about how long I ought to resist being invited to dinner.
    I stayed in the control room until I finished my coffee, went to my cabin to read and nap for a while, then returned to the exercise area to run through those forms I hadn’t gotten to earlier. I would have thought Val had disappeared off the ship if I hadn’t heard the muted clatter and movements every time I passed the galley; his new preoccupation was taking all of his attention, an absolute blessing as far as I was concerned. The change of being out from under surveillance for a while made it more than worth it.
    When I finished the forms I showered again, then sat down to read.
    It was just about 1800 hours AST when I put my book aside, too distracted to sit there any longer. I hadn’t been particularly hungry earlier that day so all I’d had was coffee, but just then I was feeling the hollowness clear down to my ankles. I’d been expecting Val to figure out how to use the cooking unit, but there was always the possibility he would turn out to be King Thumbs in anything domestic. It would be too bad all the way around, but I could survive easily on syntho, and Val would just have to learn to like it. I left my cabin and went straight to the galley and the syntho server, ignoring the galley’s other occupant until my wrist was grabbed in a big hand before I could touch the selector dial.
    “You don’t want any of that,” I was told in very firm tones, the hand pulling me gently around and away from the server. “Don’t you remember