But Mom would have gone nuclear, so Chena kept her mouth shut and tried a spoonful of the… whatever it was. It probably stank. That was probably why everyone looked so pissed. The food was probably as bad as the bathrooms.
The stuff touched her tongue and Chena froze. It was delicious. It was warm and creamy and sweet and strong. She had to stop herself from shoveling a huge helping into her mouth.
“Nothing new wrong, Chena?” asked Mom.
“No,” said Chena, swallowing hastily and digging her spoon into the food. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be any good.”
Mom nodded. “Station food is processed till it screams. There’s almost nothing left inside. That’s why I used to feed you all those vitamin supplements. This is your first taste of the real thing, my dear.” Her eyes sparkled for the first time that day. “Does it make up for the bathroom?”
Chena made a show of considering. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.…”
Mom laughed, and even Teal smiled. They all tucked into their breakfasts like they meant it.
“Off the station?” asked a big, coarse man at Teal’s elbow.
“Yes.” Mom gave him her polite, distant smile. “We just arrived last night.”
“Well, good luck, then,” he said, getting up. “Watch your step and steer clear of anybody with an armband and you’ll be okay.” He picked up his bowl and left, dumping the dish in a big bin on the way out.
“Well,” said Mom, looking after him, “I suppose that will pass for a kind word.”
“Don’t worry about it, love.” This came from a squat, wrinkled woman with skin as brown as tree bark. “There’s a court tomorrow, and everybody’s on edge. I’m Lela.” She extended her hand and Mom shook it. “You know your shift yet?”
“I’m not on shift. I’ve got a job lined up.”
The woman nodded approvingly, but Chena thought she saw something strange in her eyes. “You’re a lucky one, then. And these are your girls?”
The exchange that followed was predictable. Mom gave Lela their names and Chena and Teal responded with reflexive politeness and immediately dropped out of the conversation, eating their breakfasts and letting Mom and the new woman talk over their heads about the dormitory, where Madra’s office was, where they could get some newer blankets, and when were mealtimes and how long had Lela been there and did she have any family?
Then Chena caught the words, “… found the body hanging off the dock. The hothousers about had a fit.”
Her attention leapt back to the conversation.
“That’s hideous,” said Mom, genuinely shocked. “But they’ve caught who did it?”
“We think so. That’s what the court’s about tomorrow.” Lela rolled the words around her mouth. “The cop’s got his own ideas, of course, but it’s the village decides how to take care of its own.” She looked Mom over thoughtfully. “You get your place sorted out, you’ll probably have to be there. All adult citizens have to vote on the verdict.”
“Well, that will be interesting,” said Mom coolly.
“Ha!” Lela barked. “Just shows you haven’t ever been to one. Everybody up and down and arguing, and witnesses that won’t talk and what-all…” She shook her head. “Thank the gods below this one had no blood family or there’d be vengeance cries until the roof shook apart.”
Chena felt cold inside. A court? On the station, the security systems decided who had done what based on the camera recordings, and then it was just a matter of looking up the punishment. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of people deciding what would happen. When people got mad, they said things like, “I’m going to break your head!” What if they actually got to do it?
“Well, it’s been lovely talking to you.” Lela drained her mug and gathered up her bowl and spoon. “But I’m on today and I’ve got to get going. You can’t miss Central Admin, Helice. There’ll be a line.”
“Thank you.” Mom saluted and Lela nodded, striding off between the crowds and tables.
Teal groaned. “Another line! Why can’t they just buzz us with whatever they need?” Chena wondered if she’d even heard anything about the dead body and the court, or if she’d just been wrapped up in her own head.
She rolled her eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, vapor-brain—”
“Chena…” said Mom automatically as she stood.
“—there aren’t any computers,” Chena finished, then picked up her dishes and dumped them into a wooden bin that sat on the end of the table.