He arched an eyebrow at me. “And the TV shows and movies aren’t?”
“Fair point. But still, I wonder why not.”
He shrugged. “Maybe none of the script writers have actually been aboard one of our ships, or if they have, were not let into our private areas? The recreation areas are restricted to those residing here or visiting family and friends.”
“So someone here strictly for business would not have seen any of this,” I postulated, waving my hand about to encompass our surroundings.
“No,” he agreed. Then he frowned. “There was that one talk show host, a while back. But I do not think they showed anything beyond the seating areas, and not the park, or the sky, as they were mainly using close up. But then that bombing happened, so no more outside media or business visitors have been allowed.”
“Shit, I’d forgotten about that. Humans First, wasn’t it?”
He shook his head. “Turned out to be a ratings grab stunt that went too far.”
“Seriously? Holy hell.” I didn’t know how to respond any more than that, so I picked up my hot dog to take my first bite. It was pretty loaded, topped with beef taco meat, lettuce, salsa, hot sauce, cheese, sour cream, guacamole, and crushed tortilla chips, so it was a two handed job, one hand supporting each end to prevent making too much of a mess.
Flavor exploded across my tongue. Mmmm, I definitely had a new favorite. I was absolutely going to have to put this as a tick box in the “reasons to give Kittinir for me moving to the Fleet” column. Right under “running an extension course in person’”, “resuming our bowling lessons” (thank you, chance meeting that revealed a bowling alley on board), and “being too lonely without my best buddy”. As we both munched our way through our hot dogs, I mulled over how we’d kick back together over these three days, after he got off work, of course, and meet up for lunch too during that time.
While he was at work after lunch today, I’d go find my temporary quarters, then go have a good look around, maybe check out the bowling alley that cute guy was talking about. Then Kit and I could have some dinner while maybe watching a movie at his place. Tomorrow, while I waited for lunch time to roll back around, I’d go sign the contract that would see me start teaching that extension course, and meet the Dragonii and Mylos who would help me set it up so it could be accessed by those within the Fleet as well as distance students on Earth, aboard the two Council space stations Space Force personnel and their families were stationed on, and by the Dragonii colonists and their human mates to be as they found them. It was an exciting prospect, and one that I relished. Finally landing Kit, though, would really be the icing on the cake.
If I failed to become his mate? That was not even an option. Nope, not at all.
13
ALEC
“That sounds easy enough?” Richie, my boss at King Pin Bowling, asked.
I nodded my head. “Yup. Check out the shoes the way you showed me, if they don’t have their own, and make sure if they do, that they weren’t wearing them coming in. Help handle snack bar orders, and keep an eye out for bickering in case it escalates."
”And if it does? Not that it ever has, but one never knows.”
“Call out Xero’s name and ask for security, letting them handle it, but making sure the other patrons are out of harm’s way until it’s all over.”
Rich clapped me on the shoulder. “Got it in one. You’ll do just fine. Just make sure you don’t get involved in the fight, and you’re golden. Now, how good are you at following recipes?”
“Recipes?”
“Recipes,” he confirmed. “Nothing fancy. Just putting in the right amount of dough mix and water to the machine so it will make the dough for the pizza. We don’t offer replicated food here if we’re catering an event. Normal nights where we just get people wandering in, sure. But on league nights, youth group events, and birthday parties, we make our own pizza. We also grill our own burgers then, after hand making the patties, so you’ll need to follow the recipe for those too.”
“Um, I’m okay, I guess. I helped my dad grill sometimes, and my mom taught me how to make fried chicken, bake a cake, and make chocolate chip cookies. I had to follow a recipe for the cake and cookies, and they came out all right every time.”
“Excellent, come on back into the kitchen, and I’ll show you the pizza machine.”
It looked like a giant stand mixer that tipped out into a large round container, which had a cookie sheet with holes punched into it beneath it, on a moving rack. The moving rack was about three feet long and went into an oven that looked a lot like the ones I’d seen at Domino’s when I went in to pick up a DoorDash order. Taped to the wall beside the large mixer was a recipe telling how much mix to put in and how much water, saying to add the water first and that it had to be warm.
“The water from the faucet here,” Rich indicated the sink directly under the taped recipe, “comes out at the ideal temperature. Only use this sink to get water for the dough. Nothing else.” He pointed to a large bucket under the mixer. “The mix is in there, along with the measuring scoop. Okay, go ahead and make enough dough for a small party.”
I swallowed, walking over to a smaller sink by the door that had a sign above it indicating it was the handwashing station.
”Put on an apron first,” Rich told me, so I grabbed one off the nearby hooks he was pointing at. I quickly tied it on, knowing that since I was wearing the ball cap he’d given me when I first came in, I didn’t need a hair net. I washed my hands thoroughly, then returned to the prep sink, where I used a measuring jug from the drain board to measure out the correct amount of water listed under the small party recipe. I added it to the mixing bowl, then opened the mix bucket and scooped out the required amount of mix, quickly adding it to the water. Then I returned the scoop to the bucket and closed the lid, making sure it was on tight.
“Perfect. Now see here,” Rich pointed at an LCD screen. “Scroll through until you reach S Party, then hit the start button. It’ll start mixing, proof the dough, and then top the pizzas and bake them.”
“It will top them? Where do we add the ingredients?”
He grinned. “Those are replicated. We just mix the dough ourselves and add them and bake instead of replicating the whole pizza.”
That seemed a bit like cheating, but it was less stuff we had to do to make the pizzas, so I wasn’t going to complain if the customers didn’t.
