A finger tapped on the window. Elara stood outside in her work overalls. “Lunchtime,” came her muted voice.

Romy giggled as her friend danced outside the window. After a glance around, Romy did her own wacky move.

Romy left the scanner and documents and jogged out of the storage room and down the steps to her friend. The pair shoved each other as they raced back to their cabin to eat. They still hadn’t returned to the Hull. Funny how twenty people watching you chew could put you off food. Like, thirty centimetres from your face, staring. Not cool. They took turns collecting food for the entire group.

The others said it wasn’t as bad when they were out with just a few camp individuals. Elara said the guys she worked with got over their fascination pretty fast. They mainly wanted to hear about spaceships and the Critamal and seemed disappointed the knot weren’t ninjas.

Romy crunched on some celery—as Phobos had called it. She rather liked the burst of flavour and the texture. Nothing on the orbitos ever had texture. Or such freshness. All space food was mushy, rehydrated slop. This stuff was amazing. Everything in the Hull was served from heated cabinets. Quantities were controlled, though the portion sizes were larger than what the space soldiers had ever received.

“Where’s Thrym?” Phobos asked.

Romy glanced out the window from where they all sat around the small table in the bungalow. “Not sure. Probably somewhere with Houston. He was acting a little odd this morning.”

Elara’s fine eyebrows drew together. “Odd how?”

Romy stabbed at a chickpea with her fork. “We were just joking around, then he got all flustered and ran out the door.”

Phobos choked on his water.

Elara frowned at her, her food paused halfway to her pinched mouth. “Is he sick?” She leaned over to pat Phobos on the back.

Romy glanced at Phobos’s scarlet face, then back at Elara. “I really don’t know.”

The girl shrugged and went back to her meal.

“Did you go visit Dei?” Elara asked her.

Romy shook her head. “Didn’t have a chance.”

“I did,” Phobos offered. “He sat on the side of the bed for ten minutes or so. But his blood pressure is weird from lying down too long. He spewed everywhere. Carrots and all.”

Elara grimaced, dropping her roll.

Romy grinned, mouth full. The old Phobos was back. “So how long before he’s discharged?”

Phobos stretched his arms up in a shrug. Romy saw Elara watching the movement. She gave the other girl a questioning look and Elara quickly looked away.

“Thrym may have an idea,” Phobos said. “But Dei was saying he hopes to be out in a week.”

“You think we still need to leave?” Elara asked.

Romy’s brows rose. “You don’t?”

“Don’t know. I’m starting to get comfortable, you know?”