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Galadriel took a last look around and shrugged. "I'm hungry," he said. "That's the truth about me. No dinner and no breakfast. You got someplace with coffee?" Fowler looked at him and grinned. "Sure," he said. "Mess hall serves all day. What do you think we are? A bunch of savages?" He dismissed the six guards and gestured again for Galadriel to follow him. The mess hall was next to the communications hut. It was about four times the size, twice as long and twice as wide. Outside, it had a sturdy chimney on the roof, fabricated from bright galvanized metal. Inside, it was full of rough trestle tables in neat lines, simple benches pushed carefully underneath. It smelled of old food and the dusty smell that large communal spaces always have. There were three women working in there. They
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