io9 is proud to present fiction from Lightspeed Magazine. Once a month, we feature a story from Lightspeed’s current issue. This month’s selection is “Last Meal Aboard the Awassa” by Kel Coleman. Enjoy!
Last Meal Aboard the Awassa
by Kel Coleman
Gardener ladled dark-purple porridge into her primary digestion sac, staring absently out the viewport at black space and the distant smudge of the planet they had come to study. The simple meal and the gesture it represented soothed her after a long, thorny morning in a section of the growth bay that was in full flower and had needed hand pollinating. Though the other crew members around the mess made do with the usual break time assortment, Cook had steamed and spiced osard grains just for her before going off shift to nap in their rooms.
When the two of them joined the crew as a couple, roughly four solars ago, Gardener had worried the special treatment shown to her from the kitchen would lead to resentment. She had heard it could get lonely on a long haul if you made a bad impression, especially on a tiny ship where everyone knew each other’s families, had vid night sleepovers in the observatory, and could count at least a handful of birthdays and Endless Nights aboard. But unlike Gardener, this hadn’t been Cook’s first long haul and she’d soon researched the crew’s home planets and ports, tracking down family recipes, popular street food, and festival treats. The crew of the small science vessel were immediately smitten with her, and Gardener found herself warming to them as a result.
She finished her porridge, scraping the bowl clean, but lingered at the table to—
The speakers mounted around the mess blared three urgent tones.
The other crew members scattered at tables and behind the serving counter dropped what they were doing and moved to readiness. For Gardener, like many bipeds, this meant standing with her limbs at her sides. She turned toward the nearest screen, which had already switched from Union news to video from the bridge.
The captain’s wings were tucked close to their thorax, their five eyes reddened and rapidly blinking. In all four solars of her time aboard, Gardener had never before seen them fearful.
“Crew of the Awassa, this is your captain speaking.”
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