She was cooking supper.Thatwas what she was doing.Shewas going to make something edible from whatever strange alien pantry staples the bunker had to offer, because no matter how bad things got, people still needed to eat.Evenduring a zombie apocalypse.Especiallyduring a zombie apocalypse, probably.
Besides, cooking gave her something practical to focus on andCassiehad always been good at practical things.She’draised three boys, survived twenty years withMitchell, escaped to theKindredMotherShip, married a lizard man, lived five years on a planet where all the women had tail-holes in their dresses and dry sandy slits instead of pussies, and had somehow managed not to completely lose her mind.
Surely she could manage to make theVisskousequivalent of beans and rice—or whatever staple foods the pantry was stocked with.
She looked more closely into the cupboard and began taking inventory.
There were several sealed bags of something that looked like pearly gray lentils, each little bead perfectly round and faintly iridescent, like tinyBBsmade out of moonstone.Thelabel was written inVisskousscript, whichCassiecould read after five miserable years onVisslickPrime, though she still hated the way the letters curled and hooked around each other like little snakes.
Kareth pearls,the bags said.
Not bad.Karethwas a staple grain onVisslickPrime, though calling it “grain” was probably a generous interpretation.Itgrew in long, hanging pods from squat, ugly bushes that smelled like wet dirt.Whendried and boiled, the pearls softened into something vaguely like rice—if rice had a slightly nutty flavor and a faint blue tint.Cassiehad eaten plenty of it during her marriage toSskarth, mostly because it was cheap, filling, and didn’t taste like insects—which put it above a surprising number ofVisskousfoods.
Next to thekarethpearls were flat bricks wrapped in dull silver foil.Shepulled one out and turned it over in her hands.
Dried thessa mash,the packaging read.
Cassie made a face.Thessamashwas sort of like refried beans, if refried beans had been invented by someone who hated joy and thought food ought to have the texture of wet cement.Still, it was full of protein and it kept forever, which was probably why the bunker had an entire shelf of it.Oncerehydrated with water and heated, it turned into a thick brown paste that could be eaten with grain cakes or used to stretch soup.
There were also several tall jars of preservedloompa root,which was a purple tuber that tasted a little like sweet potato crossed with turnip.Cassieactually likedloompa root,especially if it was roasted or pan-fried with salt.Unfortunately, the jars appeared to hold it in some kind of briny green liquid, which meant it was probably going to taste like pickled dirt, but beggars in secret underground bunkers couldn’t be choosers.
She moved on to the next shelf.
There were packets of driedsserka strips, which looked disturbingly like strips of old leather and smelled faintly smoky even through the sealed packaging.
Sserkawas a domesticated herd animal onVisslickPrimethat looked something like a cross between a goat and an armadillo, ifGodhad been drunk and angry whenHemade it.Cassiehad never liked to see the creatures alive because they had too many legs and made a wet clicking sound when they walked, but the meat itself wasn’t terrible once it was dried and seasoned heavily enough.
Beside those were several small tins ofsalted fen pods,which were basically alien beans.Theywere pale yellow, kidney-shaped, and packed in oil that solidified when the room got too cold.Cassiepicked up a tin and shook it thoughtfully.Beansand rice—or fen pods and kareth pearls—might be possible.Notexactly gourmet, but definitely edible.
There were also translucent cubes stacked in a clear container, each one about the size of a bouillon cube and glowing faintly orange from within.Cassierecognized those too—they were broth stones.Dropone into boiling water and it dissolved into a savory broth.TheVisskouspreferred theirs flavored with insect shells and mineral salts, but this container had aSouthContinentsupply mark on the lid, thankGod, which meant they were probably going to taste much better than the kind she’d usually gotten in theCrystalCity.
SouthernContinentbroth stones were usually rich, salty, and comforting—almost like chicken stock, though not quite.Cassiehad eaten plenty of chicken soup growing up, and for the first time since she’d been dragged into the bunker, a rush of homesickness went through her.
But it wasn’t homesickness forEarth, exactly.Whatshe actually felt was homesickness for theMotherShip—the first place she’d lived after getting away fromMitchthat actually felt like home.
She felt homesick for the clean corridors and kind people…for the steady hum of the ship beneath her feet…for the cute little restaurants and shops around the parklands.Mostof all she felt homesick for a place where no one looked at her like she was a defective mammal because she had breasts and skin instead of scales and got sweaty at night when she had a hot flash.
Cassie had thought theMotherShipmight be her permanent home once…beforeSskarth.Beforeshe’d let herself get swept off her feet by iridescent purple scales and pretty lies about crystal spires and forever-love.
“Idiot,” she muttered, blinking hard as her eyes stung again.“Youwere such an idiot for be believing he really loved you!Andwhere did it get you?Bittenand infected with the freakingHungerVirus—that’s where.”
But no—she wasnotgoing to cry into the alien beans.Shehad a chance here—she wasn’t going to give into despair.Shewasn’t,she told herself firmly.
Taking a deep breath, she opened another cabinet and found a set of cooking implements that looked familiar.Therewere deep metal pots, flat heating pans, a bundle of long stirring rods, and several flexible silicone-like bowls that folded flat when not in use.Oneshelf held packets of powdered spice blends withVisskouslabels—savory heat, sweet smoke, deep salt,andgreen herb mix.Good—at least whoever had stocked this bunker hadn’tcompletelyforgotten about flavor.
Cassie took down the green herb mix and sniffed it cautiously after breaking the seal.Itsmelled a little like basil, a little like thyme, and a little like the inside of a freshly cut cucumber.Notbad.Thesavory heat had a warm, peppery smell that made her nose tingle pleasantly.Sheset both packets on the counter beside thekareth pearls,thessa mash,fen pods,loompa root, and broth stones.
There—ingredients.Nowshe just had to turn them into food.
She found a heating unit built into the counter and stared at the controls for a moment.Luckily, the symbols were standardVisskousheat markings, not some obscure scientific notation, so she could actually use them.Shefilled a pot with water from the filtered dispenser, dropped in two orange broth stones, and watched as they sank to the bottom and began to dissolve, sending up golden threads of flavor that swirled through the water like smoke.
The smell rose a moment later—warm and savory and almost painfully comforting because it smelled likeCampbell’schicken noodle soup.
Cassie closed her eyes and tried again not to cry.
For one stupid second, she let herself imagineRavikandSeverinsitting down to eat with her like normal people.Asif they were back aboard theMotherShipinstead of stranded in a bunker on a dying planet.
She could almost pretend to herself that one of them wasn’t half-infected and the other wasn’t a terrifyingly beautifulBloodKindredscientist who might be her only hope of survival.Likeshe wasn’t infected too, with a virus that might decide at any moment to turn her into a bitey corpse with bad skin and a craving for living flesh.Likeshe had hope again and everything was normal.
