The prisoners had their meals in what had been the supervisors’ mess when the mine had been in operation. The room still exceeded their modest requirements. But while the facility was impressive despite having been stripped of its original expensive decor, the food was something else again. Still, complaints were infrequent and mild. If not precisely of gourmet quality, at least there was plenty of it. While not wishing to pamper its indentured caretakers, neither did the Company wish them to starve.

Within certain prescribed and well known temporal parameters the men could eat when they wished. Thanks to the extra space they tended to cluster in small groups. A few chose to eat alone. Their solitude was always respected. In Fiorina’s restricted environment enforced conversation was threatening conversation. 59

Alien 3

59

Dillon picked up his preheated tray and scanned the room. Men were chatting, consuming, pretending they had lives. As always, the superintendent and his assistant ate in the same hall as the prisoners, though off to one side. Wordlessly he homed in on a table occupied by three men displaying particularly absorbed expressions. No, not absorbed, he corrected himself. Sullen.

Well, that was hardly a unique situation on Fiorina. Nevertheless, he was curious.

Golic glanced up as the new arrival’s bulk shadowed the table, looked away quickly. His eyes met those of his friends Boggs and Rains. The three of them concentrated on their bland meals with preternatural intensity as Dillon slid into the empty seat. They did not object to his presence, but neither did they welcome him.

The four ate in silence. Dillon watched them closely, and they were conscious of his watching them, and still no one said anything.

Finally the big man had had enough. Pausing with his spoon halfway to his mouth, he settled on Boggs.

?Okay. This is eating time, interacting time. Not contemplation seminar. Lotta talk goin’ round that we got some disharmony here. One of you guys want to tell me what the problem is??

Boggs looked away. Golic concentrated on his mash. Dillon did not raise his voice but his impatience was evident nonetheless.

?Speak to me, brothers. You all know me and so you know that I can be persistent. I sense that you are troubled and I wish only to help.?He placed a massive, powerful fist gently on the table next to his tray. ?Unburden your spirits. Tell me what’s the matter.?

Rains hesitated, then put down his fork and pushed his 60