“This is a different matter entirely.” His gaze went around the rest of the room. “Do you not understand that only a handful survived? And now we eat and drink and make merry and forget all those lives that have been lost!”

“We do not forget them,” Dabry said. “The only way to cope with such an amount of death is to live our lives a hundred times more fiercely.”

Niko gave him a surprised look, but nodded. “Lassite,” she said, her tone even gentler than before. “If you take the guilt of all of that upon your shoulders, you will surely break under such a burden. We all share it with you. But some of us choose to celebrate the things that have not been lost. Our friends—a host of strangers, thousands more—have died this day. And their deaths were without meaning, no matter what the Arranti that did it would claim about their game. Deaths are usually without meaning. That is why we try to bring it into our lives.”

“I understand,” he said. His tongue flickered out to sample the air before he sighed. “But I do not wish to be in company and will excuse myself now.”

She nodded permission and he left. Conversation after his exit was subdued but the ship reminded them, “Gentlebeing Dabry, you have not told me yet what you wish to eat, and how you wish it presented.”

“Eggplant,” he said. “Braised.”

“I do not understand. What is the flavor classification?”

“Oh,” Dabry said with a tone of disappointment. “You rely on replicators alone?”

“Takraven never requested differently.”

“I have some spices with me,” Dabry said, “and some useful cultures and other flavorings. If you would allow me access to the replicator room, I might be able to show you some small things that would be useful.”

This was quite optimal to the point of pleasure, in the ship’s view. At some point, perhaps, it would pass to an owner who would want these things, and it would be satisfying to be able to produce them and produce them in a form that most ships did not. That sort of service led to one being valued, and being valued was as close to happiness as the ship had ever known.

“Very well,” it said.

“Perhaps I might go now?” Dabry said. He looked around the room. “Together we can prepare the meals that these folks have requested.”

“You have not taken my order,” Lolola said haughtily. “Perhaps I will follow the priest’s example.”

Dabry bowed in her direction. “Stay a little while, gentlebeing, and in half an hour, I will return with something palatable and worthy of having been brought to you at the Last Chance.”

She snorted. “In a strange ship’s kitchen, with no supplies?”