none.
“Those
of you who turned in balls may go to the chow hall,” Tril said. “The rest of you will run until they come back.”
He’s
going to starve them , Joe realized, disgusted.
That must have occurred to the other kids, too, because their hungry faces were
beginning to scrunch in sobs of loss and defeat. Seeing some of the less
fortunate groups with a majority of toddlers, Joe almost felt sorry enough to
toss them a ball.
Then he
thought of Maggie, Monk, Scott, Elf, and Libby, and realized he had to worry
about them , now. “Come on, guys,” Joe said tiredly. “Let’s go eat.”
He turned and led them after the flow of sphere-bearing teams, leaving the
losers behind with Tril. An Ooreiki collected their balls as they exited, then
funneled them down a corridor like cattle through a slaughter-chute.
Joe
carried Maggie on his shoulders, her tiny fingers gripping tufts of his hair to
hold herself steady as he bent low to keep from slamming her head into the low
cafeteria doorframe.
The cafeteria
itself was filled with rows of long ebony tables made of the same glossy black
material as the rest of the ship. Ahead, dozens of kids stood in line to
receive big white bowls of food an alien took from the nozzle of a humming
metal box. The food machine was the first piece of furniture Joe had seen that
wasn’t made of the strange black stuff, but it was creepy in its own right.
The blue metal had an iridescent sheen to it, making it shimmer and glow like
ice. It reminded him of the thing around his ankle.
“Everybody
here?” Joe asked, glancing behind him.
Scott
made a face. “Might as well not be. This stuff is gross.”
Joe eyed
the alien serving the recruits their food. “I haven’t tasted it yet.” Too
busy racking up extra time on my enlistment.
“It’s green, ”
Maggie said, atop his shoulders. “And it tastes like the dog bowl.”
Elf
wrinkled his nose. “Ewwww.”
“Maggie
drinks from the dog bowl!” Monk laughed.
“No she
doesn’t,” Joe said, as they continued to shuffle slowly down the line towards
the humming food-machine. He cocked his head up at her. “Do you, Mag?”
He
could feel Maggie’s pout when she said, “It tastes better than the fish bowl.”
“ Ewwww! ”
Elf screeched.
“Quiet!”
Joe said, catching the eye of one of the aliens. “They’re watching us.”
That
silenced the others immediately.
“Still
think it’s gross,” Scott muttered under his breath.
When
they reached the machine doling out their allotted meals, Joe realized the ‘food’
the aliens were trying to feed them was, to all appearances, pond scum.
Nevertheless, Joe was at the point he would have eaten worms, had worms been
offered to him. He accepted a bowl for himself and another for Maggie, then
led the group over to an empty table.
“Where
are the spoons for this stuff?” Joe asked, lowering Maggie to the bench.
“They
don’t give us spoons,” Libby said. “We’ve got to use our hands.”
The
bastards. Joe looked at the pudding-like green
slime for a moment, then scooped up a glob of the stuff with a finger and
tasted it. Immediately, his stomach recoiled. It tasted like pond
scum.
“Not
that good, is it?” Elf asked, his green-brown eyes watching his expression.
The other kids, too, were watching him, obviously waiting to take their cue
from the big kid.
Joe
smoothed his features and forced himself to eat some more. “It’s good. Kind
of tastes like sushi.”
“Sushi’s
gross!” Monk cried.
“Then
you haven’t been eating the right sushi.” Joe scooped a handful into his mouth
and forced himself to swallow. It was like forcing liquid slime down his
throat, and it was everything Joe could do not to gag in front of the kiddies.
Struggling with every mouthful, Joe finished his bowl, then tried to get Maggie
to eat. She stoutly refused. Instead, she began to cry, and no amount of
soothing
“Those
of you who turned in balls may go to the chow hall,” Tril said. “The rest of you will run until they come back.”
He’s
going to starve them , Joe realized, disgusted.
That must have occurred to the other kids, too, because their hungry faces were
beginning to scrunch in sobs of loss and defeat. Seeing some of the less
fortunate groups with a majority of toddlers, Joe almost felt sorry enough to
toss them a ball.
Then he
thought of Maggie, Monk, Scott, Elf, and Libby, and realized he had to worry
about them , now. “Come on, guys,” Joe said tiredly. “Let’s go eat.”
He turned and led them after the flow of sphere-bearing teams, leaving the
losers behind with Tril. An Ooreiki collected their balls as they exited, then
funneled them down a corridor like cattle through a slaughter-chute.
Joe
carried Maggie on his shoulders, her tiny fingers gripping tufts of his hair to
hold herself steady as he bent low to keep from slamming her head into the low
cafeteria doorframe.
The cafeteria
itself was filled with rows of long ebony tables made of the same glossy black
material as the rest of the ship. Ahead, dozens of kids stood in line to
receive big white bowls of food an alien took from the nozzle of a humming
metal box. The food machine was the first piece of furniture Joe had seen that
wasn’t made of the strange black stuff, but it was creepy in its own right.
The blue metal had an iridescent sheen to it, making it shimmer and glow like
ice. It reminded him of the thing around his ankle.
“Everybody
here?” Joe asked, glancing behind him.
Scott
made a face. “Might as well not be. This stuff is gross.”
Joe eyed
the alien serving the recruits their food. “I haven’t tasted it yet.” Too
busy racking up extra time on my enlistment.
“It’s green, ”
Maggie said, atop his shoulders. “And it tastes like the dog bowl.”
Elf
wrinkled his nose. “Ewwww.”
“Maggie
drinks from the dog bowl!” Monk laughed.
“No she
doesn’t,” Joe said, as they continued to shuffle slowly down the line towards
the humming food-machine. He cocked his head up at her. “Do you, Mag?”
He
could feel Maggie’s pout when she said, “It tastes better than the fish bowl.”
“ Ewwww! ”
Elf screeched.
“Quiet!”
Joe said, catching the eye of one of the aliens. “They’re watching us.”
That
silenced the others immediately.
“Still
think it’s gross,” Scott muttered under his breath.
When
they reached the machine doling out their allotted meals, Joe realized the ‘food’
the aliens were trying to feed them was, to all appearances, pond scum.
Nevertheless, Joe was at the point he would have eaten worms, had worms been
offered to him. He accepted a bowl for himself and another for Maggie, then
led the group over to an empty table.
“Where
are the spoons for this stuff?” Joe asked, lowering Maggie to the bench.
“They
don’t give us spoons,” Libby said. “We’ve got to use our hands.”
The
bastards. Joe looked at the pudding-like green
slime for a moment, then scooped up a glob of the stuff with a finger and
tasted it. Immediately, his stomach recoiled. It tasted like pond
scum.
“Not
that good, is it?” Elf asked, his green-brown eyes watching his expression.
The other kids, too, were watching him, obviously waiting to take their cue
from the big kid.
Joe
smoothed his features and forced himself to eat some more. “It’s good. Kind
of tastes like sushi.”
“Sushi’s
gross!” Monk cried.
“Then
you haven’t been eating the right sushi.” Joe scooped a handful into his mouth
and forced himself to swallow. It was like forcing liquid slime down his
throat, and it was everything Joe could do not to gag in front of the kiddies.
Struggling with every mouthful, Joe finished his bowl, then tried to get Maggie
to eat. She stoutly refused. Instead, she began to cry, and no amount of
soothing
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