A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers #2)(30)

‘I don’t know.’ Water was something the Mothers gave them, like meals and medicine. Water just . . . happened.

‘Oh, stars. Stars, I didn’t think of it, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry. There should be ration bars and emergency water pouches in the pantry. They should still be good.’ The screen beside Jane’s bed switched off; another by the door switched on. ‘Follow me.’ Jane did so, though she felt strange about going somewhere in only her underwear. ‘I understand, you know,’ Owl said, as her face bounced down the short hallway. ‘I hate not having a job.’

‘What did you do before I got here?’

‘Not much,’ Owl said. ‘Not much at all.’ Her face jumped to a screen beside a narrow sliding door. ‘This is the pantry. I don’t have a camera in there, so you’re on your own. Look for the latched crate marked “rations”. Oh, wait, sorry – it’s probably in Klip. “Greshen”. Gee ar ee ess aitch ee en.’

Jane blinked. Owl wasn’t using words any more. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘That’s how it’s spelled. Gee ar ee—’ Owl stopped. ‘Jane, can you read?’

Jane didn’t know what that meant. Was Owl okay? She wasn’t making much sense.

‘Right,’ Owl said. ‘That’s a task for me, then. It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Here.’ Owl’s face disappeared. A row of white squiggles appeared on the screen. Her voice continued speaking. ‘Do you see what I’m showing you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay. Find the box with these exact same markings on it.’

Jane went through the door. The little room on the other side was filled with crates, most of them empty, some toppled over. It was a mess. All the crates had squiggles on them. They reminded her a bit of the angled lines that were sometimes on scrap. She’d always liked those angles. They made flat metal more interesting to look at.

The crate Owl had been talking about was in the back, buried under other stuff. Jane knocked the junk aside and opened the crate. Inside were soft packets – small rectangular ones and fat squishy ones. The squishy ones probably had liquid inside. The rectangles were harder, but kind of movable. She could feel the one in her hand give when she pushed her thumb against it.

‘Is this right?’ Jane asked, stepping back out into the hall with one of each packet.

‘Yes,’ Owl said. ‘Can you hold both of those up to the camera nearest to you? Up in the corner? I need to see the markings on them.’

‘What’s a camera?’

‘The little machine with the glass circle on the front.’

Jane found the machine and held the packets up. The machi— the camera made a whirring sound.

‘Oh, good,’ Owl said. ‘Good, they haven’t expired. Those are safe for a while yet. I don’t know if they taste good, but they’ll keep you fed. For now, at least.’

Jane turned the rectangle over in her hand. ‘How do I make a meal out of this?’ She looked over at the squishy packet. ‘Do I mix them together?’

‘No, just open up the bar and take a bite.’

Jane tore the packet open. Inside was a yellowish lump, kind of like putty. She poked it. ‘I should . . . bite it?’

‘Yes.’ Owl’s face frowned. ‘What kind of food did you have at the factory?’

‘We get meals twice a day.’

‘Okay. What kind of food?’

For a software that knew lots of stuff, there sure was a lot Owl didn’t get. ‘Meals. You know, in a cup.’

‘Oh boy. Have you ever had solid food? Something you have to chew?’

‘Like medicine?’

‘Probably like medicine, yes. You’ve never had food like that?’

Jane shook her head.

‘I – right. I am the worst teacher for this. You really need to be learning from a person. But all right, I’ve watched enough people eat. I can do this. We’ll . . . we’ll go slow.’

‘Is it complicated?’

Owl laughed; Jane didn’t know why. ‘It’s not complicated, but your body is going to have to get used to it. I think your stomach might hurt a bit at first. I’m not entirely sure.’

Jane looked at the packet, not feeling so good about it any more. She did not like stomach aches. ‘I’ll just have this, then,’ she said, waving the squishy pouch.

‘You can’t survive on water alone, Jane. Go ahead, give it a try. Just a tiny bite.’

Jane brought the putty food to her face. Real slow, she touched her tongue to the edge. Her eyes got real big, and she almost dropped the food. It tasted . . . it tasted like nothing she’d ever had. Not like meals. Not like medicine. Not like blood or soap or algae. Whatever it was, it was good. Weird. New. Scary. Good.

She put a corner of the food into her mouth and bit down, breaking off a piece behind her teeth. Yeah, this food was good. Her stomach growled loud. She wanted that food real real bad. She was hungrier than any girl had ever been, probably.

But she had to chew the food, Owl said. She rolled the hard, good-tasting lump around on her tongue. It was breaking apart, kind of, but she didn’t think she could swallow it like it was.

‘That’s it,’ Owl said. ‘Chew it up really well.’