“You don’t have to stand if you don’t want to,” she said, jerking her chin at the seat.
He stared at it a long while before he awkwardly parked one butt cheek down in a way that made her think he didn’t use chairs often.
Did Calypsons ever sit?
The question created an itchy sensation across her skin. She refocused on her vegetables, willing it to go away. A carrot, a turnip, and an onion. She chopped everything up and slid it into the bubbling water.
Her stomach grumbled again, reminding her she’d promised him food, and a soup made from scratch wasn’t fast.
“Here,” she said, moving away from the counter to the dispensary. “I’ll get you something to tide you over. What would you like?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, but her hand hovered over the controls when she saw his pinched frown. “What do you like to eat?”
He stared at her for a moment, then said, “Anything that provides sustenance.”
The vague answer uncovered buried pettiness.Bland it is.She pressed the button for soup, then chose number ten. The door slid open, and a bowl of steaming broth slid out a moment later.
She set the soup in front of him and stared. He took a deliberate moment to examine the food, then picked up the spoon and slurped it.
His eyebrows shot up. “This is good,” he declared.
“It is?” The only time she ever ordered the plain broth was when she had an upset stomach.
He nodded once and took another bite, then another, the movement speeding up until he was practically shoveling it in his mouth.
She could have gone back to her soup preparation, but watched his subtle expressions instead. How old was he?
Her thoughts returned to what he’d told her about himself already. “They say Calypsons don’t die.”
His hand stopped halfway to his mouth.
“That they live forever,” she added.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and that silver glint didn’t scare her as much.
“How old are you?” She lifted her chin. “Do you know, like in Earth years?”
He lowered his hand, the soup in the spoon dripping back into the bowl. He tipped his head before answering. “The Earth has rotated around the sun twenty-nine times since my origin.”
She gripped the countertop. “Your origin? Your birth or when you became Calypson?” He’d said he was a child when he’d arrived in Sector Ten.
His head straightened. “I became Calypson after six rotations of Earth around the sun.”
They were close in age.
“I can’t believe your parents sacrificed you like that,” she muttered. “You were so young.”
His head tilted again, and his eyes became distant.
“It was an attempt to save my life,” he said after a while.
The two of them remained frozen, staring at each other, as seconds passed them by. Emotion welled in her throat. “You were sick?” It wasn’t unheard of for a new disease to develop in a colony, one that spread faster than doctors could cure.
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “Have you spoken with them, seen them, since?”
He blinked, his gaze unfocused. “No.”
