Chapter Nine
I sat there at the table for a few minutes, trying my hardest not to think about anything at all as I finished eating my rukla. Even after all the revelations of the day—or, perhaps, because of them—it felt most important to get calories into my body.
I picked up the glass of water. The crystal was the finest I’d ever held, of far better quality than even my grandma’s fine glassware, which my dad and I kept tucked away in a cabinet and never used. Beautiful things in a beautiful ship, and a brute of an alien prowling the halls. This felt like a culture at odds.
I took a sip. The water tasted fine—none of the staleness you get from bottled water, nor the mineral bite of well water, but simply… normal. All right, so Joanna was an acceptable cook when it came to alien cuisine,
