Stellar Objects

Chapter 5: Kitchen Diaries

Andra spat in the soup. 

"Extra flavour," she said, watching her gob absorb into the gently bubbling liquid.  She stirred the soup then wiped the sweat from her brow with a dirty dishrag.  The galley was hot.  It was always hot. George had explained that the oven was heated from the excess heat from the fusion reactor.  She only got to see him at night, after they'd each spent a full day in service to a ship that saw them as disposable.

Her left ankle was shackled, of course.  The chain - just long enough for her work the full length of the kitchen counter, but not enough to reach the door - was locked onto the leg of the oven.

The HMS Ghandi had a strict hierarchy, starting with the wheel-chair bound captain at the top of the heap and ending with Andra and Grunge at the very, very bottom.

Andra's master was a grumpy old dāyana with bad knees and an even worse temper. She insisted on being called 'Lady de Datta, but since she sat on her skinny butt all day and made Andra do all the cooking and cleaning, Andra named her Lazy de Datta.

And right now, Lazy was having her mid-afternoon 'beauty rest.'  As if that would ever help, thought Andra. When she woke, she'd expect Andra to have the soup full cooked, fully flavoured, and a cup of turquoise tea at the ready.

Wake – service – sleep.... Repeat.

Every day was the same on the Ghandi.  Andra worked in the hot galley for over eight hours, with just two short toilet breaks, while Grunge endured the blistering heat of the engine room.  Only at night could they catch up on the day's drudgery.  But once the ship was quiet, Andra and George would secretly hatch their escape plans. They'd take turn proposing a way out, and then grill each other to see if the plan had a hope-in-Heap of being possible.

They had one chance about fifty sleeps ago when the Ghandi docked for maintenance. The adults on the crew were given shore leave, and Andra expected Lazy would let her off the ship too. But the ugly dāyana kept her chained to the stove, and said if the ship was getting an overhaul, then the galley should too.  Lazy de Datta told Andra to clean all of the pots or lose her toilet breaks.

George was granted shore leave but stayed on board out of loyalty to Andra.  He watched the maintenance crew fix the creaking systems and inspect the reactor.  He must've asked the crew a million questions and they made him an informal apprentice.  They tolerated his curiosity and in return he fetched their tea from the galley, which gave he and Andra a chance to see each other during the day.  He had a chance to leave, and didn't take it.  And Andra would never leave her brother behind.

She heard a clang of metal behind her and turned to see a panel in the wall fall onto the floor.

"Now's our chance," called George's voice from the darkness behind the wall.

He crawled out of the access tunnel, his face covered in grime.  His overalls were grungy and for once, she was tempted to use his preferred nickname.

He ran across the galley, where in a few hours' time the adult crew would be sitting at tables and benches expecting to be served hot soup.  But if George was right, he and Andra would be long gone by then.

"What about this?" she asked, shaking her shackles.

George reached into his pocket and pulled out a long cylinder about the size of an air pump they'd once found on the Heap. 

"Hold still, sis," he said. 

George pointed the pump thingy at the steel that shackled her ankle and pressed a button. A luminescent blue mist sprayed out. 

Andra shivered as the metal grew cold around her ankle. "It's fr-fr-freezing," she shuddered.

"Should be," George said with a smile.  "Pass me that stirring thing."

"You mean this spoon?" asked Andra.

She handed him the wooden spoon and George slapped it against the shackle. It shattered.  Pieces of cold steel smashed like a glass hitting the floor; something Lazy de Datta had told Andra happened 'far too often.'

George pocketed the pump and pulled Andra across the room.  She surveyed the empty benches and hoped to never see their occupants again.

Grunge led her to the hole in the wall.  It reminded Andra of that hungry little girl, Aliss, who chased a yummy-looking white rabbit down into a hole and went onto have a whole lot of adventures. 

As Andra followed her brother into the dark tunnel, she wondered what adventures awaited them once they were free.

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If you were in space, what meal would you make?

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