I won’t be in touch again until this is resolved. We’re working on it, but it’s going to create a very large news cycle before it’s done, I think.

Jack

I had no doubt that any texts my parents received would be read by persons unknown, which was why I’d thrown in the comment about not getting in touch. I forwarded the text to Sheldon, then sat back and eyed my friends. Patrick seemed to have finished and was reviewing his message. Nat was typing and stopping, typing and stopping, chewing on her lip the whole while. I didn’t envy her.

Finally, Nat sent her text to Sheldon and dropped her phone on the table with a sigh. “So what now?”

There was a ding from an alcove and Patrick popped a door open. “So microwaves are universal,” he said, pulling out a frozen meal. “Utensils, not so much. But this thing is kind of a spork.” Patrick briefly held up an implement as he sat with his food. “Maybe you guys should fill your pieholes before continuing. People think better when their stomachs aren’t trying to digest their spines, know what I mean?”

I grabbed a prepackaged burrito. “How does the nuker work?”

“Just ask Sheldon to operate it. Apparently, it’s networked. Internet of Things, Gen version.”

“I live to serve,” Sheldon said. “No job too menial, no task too degrading.”

I put the burrito on a plate and stuck it into the microwave. “Or you could just tell me what buttons to push. Obviously, I don’t read Gennan.”

“No, you’d as likely as not set the device to self-destruct. I’ll take care of it.”

“While complaining the whole while.”

“Just one of the many perks of the job.”

I waited for the unit to ding, then sat down with my meal as Nat set hers up. For several minutes, there was only the sound of a feeding frenzy. Patrick also made significant inroads into the Cheetos until Nat grabbed the bag from him with a glare.

Patrick opened a bag of potato chips as a consolation prize. He started to say something, but it turned into a protracted yawn. “Holy cow, I’m beat. This has been an insane couple of days. I’m going to crash on a couch here, but maybe tomorrow we should talk about long-term plans, including where we’re going to be staying. Sooner or later I’m going to need a shower.” Without waiting for a reply, he picked out one of the long Gennan couches and stretched out on it, his back to the room.

I yawned in sympathy. “Pretty beat myself. I like that plan.”

Sheldon’s voice came out of midair. “Say, Sheldon, do the Gen have showers? Why yes, as it turns out, Gen like to be clean too. That’s amazing, Sheldon. We sure are lucky to have you around.”