Light From Uncommon Stars(61)

“Oh!” Astrid paused awkwardly. “Well, please, go ahead.”

Nervously, Katrina began to play. Then, Katrina recognized the theme. It was from a game. Yes! Miss Satomi had made a few changes, added some ornaments, but yes, she knew this piece! The room filled with music; it was as if notes were skipping off the walls, bouncing off the ceiling.

Her confidence lasted for three and a half measures.

“Miss Satomi and I agreed that you would probably make a mistake there,” Astrid said. “So, from the top. As you play, pay attention to the phrasing, as well as the fingering.

“Also, I notice that you tend to rush. When you rush, all you are doing is practicing your mistakes at a faster pace. So let’s try this at half speed. If that is too fast, we will slow it down some more. Understood?”

Was this the same Miss Astrid who made tangerine juice and lemon tarts?

“Understood,” Katrina managed to say.



* * *



Markus Tran could not believe this.

“Classically Camellia Showcase?”

He could just see it now, being in the park on a summer night. There would be couples there. Definitely girls.

Yet what would he be doing? Selling donuts.

“Why are we doing this? I’ll bet it’s just because the captain likes that woman, right?”

“Markus,” Shirley scolded. “Mother thinks this will bring new customers.”

“Do you agree?” Markus asked defiantly.

“She is our captain, so it is not necessary for me to agree. However, I do.” Shirley said the last sentence with calculated emphasis.

“Well … okay.” Markus finally relented. “But for this order, we should probably use all the reference donuts.”

“Agreed. With so many people, we need to reduce the chance of the audience noticing identical artifacts.”

Floresta had been watching them the whole time. Her niece, Lan, was fond of saying that you didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to make donuts.

And yet, most rocket scientists had not the slightest idea of how to make a proper apple fritter.

Although technically a member of Lan’s crew, Floresta was also the captain’s aunt, which meant she was largely left on her own. This left her free to watch over her niece—which she needed, whether she knew it or not.

For example, on the journey here, she’d packed treats from home, because she knew that Lanny would leave without taking food. Silly girl. Yes, for nutrition, the replicators were more than adequate, but it would be a long and lonely journey. At times, nothing would be more needed than a taste of home.

As their voyage continued, Floresta scoured the transmissions Shirley and Lanny collected from the new planet. She carefully blended the remaining home food with the recipes she gathered. Gradually, she weaned them off the food they left behind and onto the foodstuffs of the new planet.

By the time the family landed, Markus and Edwin had already developed a fondness for pho, Windee was looking forward to al pastor burritos, and even Lanny was looking forward to hot pot.

The whole time, the crew had never noticed.

Floresta didn’t mind. In fact, that was her goal—to make their transition seamless and enjoyable.

However, now she faced a different concern. Customers were growing tired of their donuts. Yes, they were replicated as perfectly as replicators could make them. But they could not capture the randomness, the little variances, the extra shower of sprinkles, the slight burn that made a fritter taste like cider.

Besides, no matter how often they rotated the donuts, the truth was they were essentially serving their customers spaceship food.

And then there were the Thamavuongs’ recipes. As much as her niece thought them sacred, they left so much unsaid.

If Floresta had been able to work a year or two with the Thamavuongs, she might have been able to acquire their cooking secrets. But Lanny had rushed the process.

She didn’t blame her niece; her goal was to get the crew settled as soon as possible. However, there was still the problem of the donuts. What was the secret of creating donuts that people wanted again and again and again?

Floresta would not find what she needed in a replicator, nor even in an emergency call to the Thamavuongs. After all, they would only be able to tell her what they knew, not what they did. She needed to find other masters and watch them work. She needed to hear their kitchens, to taste their foods, and to watch the reactions of the other customers.

Floresta walked to her usual bus stop. Today, she would try a steamed bun place. It was supposedly one of the best in West Covina.

On the way out, she saw a Jaguar drive past her. She waved.

Shizuka waved back and smiled.

Floresta was happy when Lanny was with that woman. Lanny needed a space where she could be neither Captain nor Mom.

Tomorrow is tomorrow. Over there is over there. And here and now is not a bad place and time to be, especially when so much of the unknown is beautiful.





20


“You didn’t have to come get me,” Lan said.

“How was your meeting with the Chamber of Commerce?”

Lan slumped in her seat. “It was worse than the Imperial Sub-Council of Public Works.”

“Exactly. Now enjoy the ride.”

Shizuka merged onto the 710 North. From there, she’d take the 10 West, maybe to the beach. A beach walk sounded wonderful. Maybe the Santa Monica Promenade.