Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

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Day Twenty-one ∞ Thursday early morning (PST) and Anno 6659

"ANYTHING AT ALL?" Jagg asked as he stretched out on the extruded, padded bench that would serve as his bed for the night. "You got no menu?"

"No," Lora said over her shoulder.

Tillman exited the hygienic wearing an army-green T-shirt over his spacesuit hanging like overalls from his waist. "Interesting bathroom you've got there," he said and sat down on his bench to open his seabag.

Lora spun her pilot seat around to face the three men, her lips curling mischievously. "Just say what you want."

"Roast beef. You've got that?"

"With?"

"Baked potato?" Jagg added.

"Atlas?"

Atlas studied her for a moment. "The same. I'll take it rare. The beef."

Lora nodded. "Tillman?"

"Nothing for me. I've brought my own supplies." Tillman lifted a metal lunch pan he'd pulled from his bag.

"Two roast beef with baked potato coming up in three minutes, one medium, one rare." Lora returned to the transparent fore, sweeping her hand at one of the virtual panels.

"Just three minutes?" Jagg asked. "What about turkey? You've got that?"

"Make up your mind, kid," Atlas said.

Jagg pushed himself up by the elbow and shot him a long look. Where did the dude come off calling him "kid"? Atlas met his gaze sharply with a blank face, no hint of hostility. After a moment, Jagg decided to let it go and dropped back onto the padding. At least the man hadn't called him "boy".

"You can get both," Lora responded.

"Cool."

The ubiquitous lighting inside the ship dimmed as a larger section of the fore turned transparent, providing a 180-degree view in all directions from Lora's seat. Beyond stretched the expanse of star-speckled space framing their destination, the distant moon. Not far to the left and a little ahead of them, the dark shape of Lora's sister's ship led the way. It would have almost blended into the background had it not been for the absence of stars in the area it covered, and the elongated wheel of containers on its side. It reminded Jagg somewhat of the belted wheels of an army tanker.

"Help yourselves," Lora said without turning. "When you have finished, put the containers back. Paulux will take care of them."

A lit compartment opened on the wall between the fore and Jagg's bench. Jagg swung his legs over the edge and sat up as Atlas crossed the floor. Atlas picked up an oval white box, opened the lid, and grunted with a lifted brow as the aroma wafted out. He grabbed a covered cup and returned to his bench.

Jagg inspected the compartment. Its walls were plain, only the ceiling section appeared to have panels that were closed. Luminous lettering next to a cutting fork on the lid of the oval box indicating <<Beef . Turkey>> faded after he picked it up. He grabbed the cup and sat down, placing the cup on the firm end of the bench. Then he popped the lid.

Two heaps of meat cubes, a heap of potato cubes, wedges of what looked like carrots and onion, and a heap of shredded vegetables filled the three-inch deep bowl. Jagg stabbed at a darker meat cube and inspected it. It had the color of roast beef, and it smelled like roast beef but it looked smoother than it should. Nor did it feel quite like it when he chucked it in his mouth. But it sure did taste good, and chewing took little effort.