Page 36 of Full Speed to a Crash Landing

My heart’s racing as I sit down. I think Saraswati says something, but I don’t hear it. See, on a deep-space ship, the food’s mostly dried goods that pretend to be edible, and even the good stuff on a ship isn’t therealstuff, you know? But food that comes in a box? Food that comes in a box like this is special. There’s not much room for frozen goods. But frozen food is often . . .

“Ohhh.”A decadent groan escapes my lips, and Rian chuckles.

Beneath the foil-lined top on the box is a real piece of meat. Like, realreal.Not a composite. Not replacement protein patties.Realmeat.

“Chicken breast, green beans, mashed potatoes,” Nandina says proudly.

Potatoes.I thought the meat was something, but potatoes? I haven’t had actual potatoes since I left Earth.

“Wait for it,” Rian says, reaching over the table to point to the little foil wrapped block on the side.

“No,” I say, my voice rising, sounding almost angry.

“Yes.”

“No.”My hand shakes as I pick up the cube. It’s cold but a little soft. I carefully pull back the foil.

Butter.

There are actual tears in my eyes as I look around the room. Their bemused smiles are proof enough that this is a meal they all knew was coming, a celebration for finding part of what they’d come all this way to find.

“I’m never leaving this crew,” I say. “You don’t even have to pay me. Just feed me.”

Magnusson puts his new tray down beside mine. “Hear, hear.”

I grab a fork and stab the chicken, lifting the whole breast up and cramming as much as I can into my mouth. “You can use a knife,” Rian laughs, but he’s wrong. Thething about real meat that I miss so, so much is the feel of it in my teeth. The way my mouth has to work for the prize. The way it’s not uniform.

This chicken has never been in a tube, and I know that with every sense in my body.

It hurts to swallow; it’s too much, and it’s not liquid; it doesn’t slide. I don’t care. The pain is part of the pleasure.

Across from me, Rian calmly cuts a piece of his chicken with a knife. I’m ripping apart my second bite before he even lifts his fork to his lips. Magnusson is mashing the butter into his potatoes like it’s a sacred rite. I can respect that. On my other side, First is experimenting—dipping the chicken in the mashed potatoes, then stabbing some green beans and stuffing them in their mouth before they swallow. Saraswati’s started with the green beans. Bad choice. They’re the weak link here; a vegetable and too soft and too close to standard fare. Maybe she’s saving the best for last. I don’t understand that mindset. Nandina’s like me, meat first, attacked with the brutality such a rare treat deserves. I knew I liked her the best.

I shear another piece of chicken off with my teeth, and Rian shakes his head. “If you eat too quickly, it’ll just be gone. Savor it.”

“You said I get three servings,” I say around a mouthful.

“Well, there are only five boxes,” Rian says. “So, you can have more food, but it won’t be this.”

I chew slower.

The captain’s not here. Guarding the cryptex drive, surely. But also giving me her celebratory dinner. I guess that makes up for leaving me to die with only one percent air in my tank.

“What’s the meal going to be when we find the key to the drive?” I ask.

“Steak,” Rian says. “And ice cream.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, barely audible.

Nandina puts down her fork. She didn’t know how much I knew about the ship’s mission, only that I already knew that there was a second piece needed to succeed. She knows now. When she starts eating again, I think,That’s all of them. They accept me now.Even the captain—when she found out I was the one who retrieved the drive, I could see a glimmer of respect in her shocked eyes. They’ve seen what I can do, and while I’m still a wild card in this carefully planned salvage mission, they trust me.

They...trust me.

They shouldn’t. But they do.

I swallow dryly.

It’s a bittersweet revelation.

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