June 4, 2440, 7:35 p.m.
Dinner turned out to be exactly what Matt had hoped for.
No private dining room.
No special menu.
No chef standing nervously beside a table wondering whether the High Lord of the V’ren approved of his fish.
Just the ferry’s regular upscale buffet, already busy with passengers when Matt, T’mari, T’monn and L’tani came through the doors.
Matt stopped inside long enough to look around.
Sushi and sashimi occupied one chilled section. Beyond it were trays of grilled fish, fried chicken, pork, seasonal vegetables and several dishes Matt did not immediately identify. Miso soup sat beside rice and oden. A ramen station had three broths going, with bowls of noodles and toppings waiting beside them.
At the far end, the dessert section included cakes, ice cream, sesame balls, waffles and a chocolate fountain that had already attracted several children.
T’monn stared at it.
“No.”
Matt followed her eyes.
“Oh, absolutely.”
“That cannot be an appropriate method of serving chocolate.”
“It’s a fountain.”
“I can see that.”
L’tani had already moved toward the sushi.
T’mari followed.
The dining room had gone noticeably quieter.
Nobody had been cleared out for them. The ferry company had reserved enough adjoining tables to keep the security detail from having a collective nervous breakdown, but otherwise the room remained exactly as it had been five minutes earlier.
Families ate.
Older couples talked quietly over beer.
Children made repeated strategic attacks on the dessert station.
A group of students near the windows were pretending very badly not to stare.
Matt picked up a plate.
“Food first. Cultural exchange after I have rice.”
That broke enough of the tension to start conversation again.
T’mari selected sashimi, grilled fish, vegetables and rice.
Then she picked up a pair of chopsticks.
Three people at the next table stopped talking.
T’monn took chopsticks too.
So did L’tani.
The students by the windows were openly staring now.
T’mari noticed.
She looked at Matt.
“Are we doing something incorrectly?”
“No.”
One of the students looked mortified that she had heard.
T’mari turned toward him.
“Then why are you watching my hands?”
The young man bowed slightly from his seat.
“I am sorry, Ambassador. I did not know V’ren used chopsticks.”
T’mari looked down at the pair in her fingers.
Then at him.
“We do.”
Several people nearby laughed.
The student blinked.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
T’monn had joined them with a plate and overheard enough to understand.
“They are somewhat different,” she said. “Ours tend to be longer.”
L’tani added, “And the preferred materials vary by region.”
The student stared.
“You invented chopsticks too?”
T’mari considered that.
“I assume someone did.”
Matt snorted.
T’mari looked at him.
“What?”
“You’ve been on Earth a month and that’s already the most V’ren answer you’ve given.”
“I am V’ren.”
“Exactly.”
The room laughed again, this time more comfortably.
An older man two tables away raised his hand slightly.
“May I ask something?”
Matt pointed at his own plate.
“If you let me eat while you do it.”
That got another laugh.
The man nodded.
“Of course.”
Matt sat.
T’mari settled beside him, with T’monn and L’tani across from them.
The security team occupied nearby tables without making any pretense that they were not working.
The older man looked toward T’mari.
“Do they feel natural to you? Japanese chopsticks?”
T’mari tested them against a piece of grilled fish.
“Yes. The balance is slightly different.”
T’monn nodded.
“I prefer ours.”
“You have been here four minutes,” Matt said.
“I required less.”
L’tani was examining a piece of sashimi before eating it.
“I like these.”
“That’s salmon,” Matt said.
“I know.”
“Just checking.”
“You have been checking whether I understand food since the first day we met.”
“You spent eighteen years eating V’ren food.”
“Yes.”
“That explains my concern.”
T’mari kicked him lightly beneath the table.
Matt looked at her.
“What?”
“Eat.”
He obeyed.
That seemed to settle something in the room.
The famous people were eating buffet food.
The alien women knew how to use chopsticks.
The High Lord’s wife kicked him under the table when he became irritating.
None of it was particularly historic.
Which apparently gave everyone permission to become curious.
A woman dining with two children leaned slightly toward T’monn.
“Which Japanese food have you liked most?”
T’monn considered the question seriously.
“I have not tried enough to answer.”
Matt pointed with his chopsticks toward her.
“She drank something called Galaxy Grape upstairs and voluntarily asked for another.”
T’monn’s head snapped toward him.
“That was private.”
“It was purple and had glitter in it. Nothing involving that beverage is private.”
L’tani laughed.
T’mari covered her mouth.
Several passengers did the same.
The younger of the woman’s children stared at T’monn.
“Did you like it?”
T’monn thought about lying.
Everyone could see her thinking about lying.
“No.”
The boy frowned.
“Then why did you drink another one?”
T’monn looked toward Matt.
Matt waited.
Finally she said, “I was attempting to understand it.”
The boy accepted that immediately.
Matt did not.
“That is absolutely not why.”
T’monn reached across the table and took a piece of his grilled fish.
“Your fish is excellent.”
“You have your own.”
“I am attempting to understand yours.”
The students at the window lost whatever remained of their composure.
The questions came more easily after that.
Nothing important.
That was what Matt liked about them.
Did V’ren have ramen?
No.
Did they have noodles?
Several kinds.
Did T’mari like sushi?
Yes.
Could V’ren eat wasabi?
T’mari demonstrated.
Matt advised the young man who had asked not to turn the evening into a contest unless he was prepared to lose his dignity in front of an extraterrestrial woman.
A grandmother wanted to know whether T’monn thought Japanese fish tasted different from fish on V’ren.
A teenager asked L’tani whether V’ren had convenience stores.
Another asked whether D’ren and S’ola really understood all the Japanese people had been speaking around them.
That brought the pages over from the table where they had been eating with several members of the staff.
D’ren answered in Japanese.
“Yes.”
The teenager’s face changed.
D’ren smiled.
“Including earlier.”
His friends exploded.
S’ola sat down beside L’tani.
A girl near her own age immediately recognized her.
“Are you really going to raid MJ Reyes’s closet?”
S’ola looked toward Matt.
Matt closed his eyes.
T’mari started laughing before S’ola answered.
“Yes.”
The girl grinned.
“Was she flirting with you?”
S’ola considered it with the same seriousness T’monn had applied to Galaxy Grape.
“Her mother believes so.”
Matt lowered his forehead to one hand.
Somewhere behind him, Tyrell began laughing.
The girl leaned closer.
“What do you think?”
S’ola smiled.
“I believe I should inspect the closet before reaching a conclusion.”
That took out most of the room.
Matt looked toward T’mari.
“Your people learn too fast.”
T’mari picked up another piece of sushi.
“Our people.”
Matt stared at her for half a second.
Then smiled.
“Yeah.”
Around them the ferry continued through the darkening sea, passengers getting another plate, children returning to the chocolate fountain, dishes clattering, conversations crossing tables.
Nobody announced a question-and-answer session.
Nobody needed to.
They just ate dinner together.
