The Galaxy, and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers (read along books txt) 📗

‘No,’ Ouloo said.

Tupo cooed in fascinated horror.

‘Wait, so, how …’ Speaker made a hesitant face. ‘I’m going to regret this question. How is it … prepared?’

Pei grimaced. ‘They take the milk, they add some ingredients – don’t ask me, I have no idea what – and then pour the mess into a … a thing. I don’t know. A container. And then …’ She shut her eyes. ‘They leave it out until bacteria colonise it to the point of solidifying.’

The cacophony returned.

‘I knew I’d regret it,’ Speaker said.

Roveg laughed and laughed. ‘I’m so glad I asked about this,’ he said.

‘Mom, can we order some?’ Tupo said.

‘Absolutely not,’ Ouloo said.

‘They don’t all eat this, do they?’ Speaker asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Pei said. ‘I know they don’t make it in the Fleet, and a lot of people there can’t eat it without getting sick.’

‘Understandably.’

‘No, it’s not that. Humans need a … oh, what is it … it’s something with their stomachs. An enzyme, I think. For digesting milk. Only some Humans produce it naturally. But here’s the thing: they’re all so fucking bonkers for cheese that they’ll ingest a dose of the enzymes beforehand so that they can eat it.’

‘That seems a bit extreme,’ Roveg said.

‘Have you eaten it?’ Tupo asked.

‘Not if my life depended on it,’ Pei said.

‘How is it that their milk makes them sick?’ Speaker said. ‘That’s got to pose a problem if they can’t feed their young.’

‘Oh, no, I – stars, I forgot the worst part.’ Pei rubbed her neck with her palm. ‘They don’t make cheese with their own milk. They take it from other animals.’

At that, chaos broke out.

‘I didn’t know that part,’ Roveg said, his forelegs shivering. ‘That’s … oh, that’s vile.’ And it truly was, but this fact did nothing to derail his glee.

Tupo had become scientific fervour incarnate. ‘How do they take it from them?’

‘Tupo, please,’ xyr mother said wearily.

The Akarak looked dumbfounded. ‘But … but why?’

‘I have no idea,’ Pei said. ‘No idea.’

‘I knew they ate other mammals, but … ugh,’ Roveg said.

‘They eat mammals?’ Tupo said, xyr voice heading toward a shriek.

Speaker cocked her head. ‘Is that worse?’ she asked. ‘Killing and eating them, rather than harvesting something from them while still alive?’

‘Do you not think so?’ Roveg asked.

‘We only eat plants,’ she said, ‘so all of this is outside my realm of expertise.’

‘What sorts of plants do you eat?’ Ouloo said, pouncing upon the opportunity for a change in topic.

‘Oh,’ Speaker said, blinking. She looked surprised to have someone interested in the subject. ‘Well … hmm.’ There was a long pause. ‘I don’t know the names for any of our foods in Klip.’ This bothered her, clearly. ‘I guess I’ve never talked about them with …’ She gestured at the group. ‘People like yourselves.’

‘Broad strokes?’ Roveg said. ‘Fruits, leaves, nuts …?’

‘All of the above,’ Speaker said. ‘Fruits especially, and flowers. We need a lot of sugar.’

‘See, that’s nice,’ Ouloo said. ‘That sounds like very nice food. Perhaps you could give me a list of your favourites before you go? I’m sure I can look up the translated names.’

‘Why?’ Speaker said.

‘Well, so I could carry some here! That way if you come back – or if you send any of your friends our way – I can make something more to your liking.’ The Laru blinked her large eyes hopefully.

Roveg popped a snapfruit tart into his mouth as he watched Speaker’s reaction to this. Something had caught the tiny sapient completely off guard.

It took Speaker a moment to understand what Ouloo was saying. She looked around at the others, each holding a plate or snacking from the table – or in Tupo’s case, straight from the bag. She saw herself as they did, hanging about the edge and not taking any of the offered food. But … surely. Surely they knew …?

The others looked at her expectantly.

No. Of course they didn’t. The core detail that had determined everything – everything – for her species in the past two centuries, and they didn’t even fucking know about it.

A tangle of frustration began to surface, one that grew more and more knotted with every standard – every tenday, it sometimes felt. To the others, she was sure this question was nothing, and in the grand scheme of things, that was true, just as a speck of dust was nothing. But a million specks of dust, gathered over time, became something big and ugly and impossible to ignore, something that could jam your ship’s filters and ruin your day. Stars, she was tired of needing to be the Linking file for her entire species wherever she went. She’d learned about them; why hadn’t anyone she met ever done the same for her?

She located her tension. It resided in her shoulders, her hands, the joints of her jaw. Mindfully, deliberately, she let it go.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to Ouloo with a smile in her voice. ‘I didn’t mean to insult you. This all looks delicious.’ In actual fact, she had no idea what any of the foodstuff around her was, but in a different reality, she would’ve loved to try some. ‘The thing is …’ She decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, even though she knew what the answer would be. ‘How much do you know about our suits?’

A silence fell over the group, and there was a weight to it that suggested more than just ignorance. Ah. So they did know something, or at least some of them did. Captain Tem and Roveg had an inkling, she guessed, from the way the Aeluon’s colours were mixing and the fact that a morsel in the Quelin’s grasping toes had paused on the way to his mouth.

Captain Tem was the one to answer, and she did so with a question. ‘Do you mean how they work, or why you use them?’

‘Both. Either.’

‘I know they were mining equipment, once,’ Captain Tem said. Her tone was careful but