May 20, 2440
By noon, the taco truck had a line twenty people deep.
Nobody considered this unusual.
The truck had been feeding Marmaduke crews for years. Somebody had apparently called that morning, told them there would be several hundred additional workers in Leta, many of them green, and added the V’ren to the standing agreement.
Feed them.
Bill Matt.
Nobody in line had cash out.
Nobody was being asked for it.
Emma Johnston parked the side-by-side beside a row of others, killed the power, and climbed out.
G’aikui T’resk climbed out of the passenger side.
Ph’etuv and T’waur got out of the back.
Ph’etuv looked at G’aikui.
Then at the passenger seat.
Then at Emma.
Emma saw her.
“Don’t.”
Ph’etuv widened her eyes.
“I said nothing.”
“You were about to.”
“I was looking at the vehicle.”
“You have spent the entire morning looking at the vehicle.”
“It is an interesting vehicle.”
T’waur nodded gravely.
“Especially the front passenger seat.”
G’aikui looked between his sisters.
“What is wrong with the seat?”
“Nothing,” Emma said quickly.
Ph’etuv smiled.
“Absolutely nothing.”
G’aikui accepted that and turned toward the taco truck.
Emma glared at both sisters.
They smiled back.
By the time they reached the line, G’aikui was studying the menu.
Not because he did not know tacos.
He knew tacos.
The Kalnareth had survived two Taco Tuesdays at the Homestead already.
He had opinions.
That was the problem.
“Venison.”
Emma looked at him.
“You said beef ten minutes ago.”
“I reconsidered.”
“Because?”
“Venison is better.”
“You haven’t had their venison.”
“No.”
“So how do you know?”
“I know venison.”
“You know venison. You don’t know their venison.”
G’aikui considered that.
“You are arguing that preparation is more important than the animal.”
“I’m arguing both matter.”
“That is reasonable.”
Emma blinked.
“You agreed with me.”
“Yes.”
“You usually argue longer.”
“I can if you prefer.”
Ph’etuv made a small noise behind them.
Emma looked back.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That has stopped meaning anything when either of you says it.”
T’waur stepped around them.
“Crickets.”
All three looked at her.
She shrugged.
“They are good.”
Emma said, “They’re bugs.”
T’waur stared at her.
“You eat pigs.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“Why?”
Emma opened her mouth.
Stopped.
G’aikui turned toward her with immediate interest.
“Yes. Why?”
“Because pigs are…”
She stopped again.
Ph’etuv smiled.
“Large?”
“That’s not it.”
“Hairy?”
“No.”
“More intelligent than crickets?”
Emma pointed at her.
“You’re not helping.”
“I am not trying to.”
G’aikui was still looking at Emma.
She noticed.
“What?”
“You have not answered.”
“I don’t have an answer.”
He smiled.
Emma hated how much she liked that smile.
“Well,” he said, “then perhaps T’waur wins.”
“She absolutely does not.”
“On what grounds?”
“I haven’t invented them yet.”
“I will wait.”
Ph’etuv looked at T’waur.
T’waur looked at Ph’etuv.
G’aikui noticed neither.
The line moved.
Ahead of them, the menu was simple enough for one family to actually serve a worksite without losing its mind.
PORK
BEEF
VENISON
CRICKETS
TACOS
BURRITOS
BEANS
RICE
There were several aguas frescas in clear dispensers beside the service window.
And beneath the food menu came salsa and toppings.
That was where civilization broke down.
G’aikui pointed.
“You put cheese on pork.”
Emma nodded.
“Sometimes.”
Ph’etuv looked offended.
“No.”
Emma turned.
“What do you mean, no?”
“Pork, onion, cilantro, lime, green salsa.”
“That’s one way.”
“That is the correct way.”
“There is no correct way.”
Ph’etuv stared at her.
“That is something people say when they are wrong.”
T’waur nodded.
“She is right.”
“You ordered crickets with cheese Tuesday.”
“Yes.”
“So cheese is fine on crickets but not pork?”
“Obviously.”
Emma turned to G’aikui.
“Help me.”
“No.”
“You agree with them?”
“I agree that pork and cricket are different animals.”
“That is technically true and completely useless.”
He smiled again.
Emma looked at him a little longer than necessary.
Ph’etuv saw it.
T’waur saw Ph’etuv see it.
G’aikui had already gone back to the menu.
Emma caught the sisters looking at her.
“Don’t.”
Ph’etuv looked innocent.
“I said nothing.”
“That has stopped meaning anything.”
They reached the window.
The woman inside recognized Emma.
“Your crew?”
“Yeah.”
She looked past Emma at the three V’ren.
“Same deal. Marmaduke’s paying.”
G’aikui nodded.
“We know.”
The woman smiled.
“Good. What are you having?”
“Venison burrito.”
Emma turned sharply.
“A burrito?”
G’aikui looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You spent twenty minutes arguing tacos.”
“I have changed my mind.”
“That invalidates the entire discussion.”
“No. The discussion caused the decision.”
The woman behind the window waited patiently.
G’aikui continued.
“Venison. Beans. Rice.”
“What salsa?”
He hesitated.
Emma smiled.
“There it is.”
“I am thinking.”
“Green.”
G’aikui looked at her.
“Why green?”
“Because it’s good.”
“That is not reasoning.”
“It’s lunch.”
He continued looking at her.
Emma folded her arms.
“What?”
“You always choose green?”
“No.”
“What do you put on venison?”
Emma frowned.
“I usually do red with venison.”
“So red.”
She stared at him.
“You just spent a minute arguing with me so you could order what I would order?”
“No.”
“That is exactly what happened.”
“I requested information.”
“You could have just asked.”
“I did ask.”
“You argued first.”
“That made the information more reliable.”
The woman inside the truck laughed.
Emma pointed at him.
“You are impossible.”
G’aikui looked pleased.
“Red.”
“Cheese?”
He glanced at Emma.
She caught him.
“Don’t look at me.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
“Yes.”
The woman waited.
G’aikui said, “Cheese.”
Emma smiled.
He noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That word again.”
“Crema?” the woman asked.
“No.”
“Onion?”
“Yes.”
“Cilantro?”
“Yes.”
“Lime?”
“Yes.”
“Drink?”
G’aikui looked at the dispensers.
Emma said nothing.
He waited.
She continued saying nothing.
Finally he looked at her.
“You are doing this deliberately.”
“Doing what?”
“Not telling me.”
“You said you could order your own lunch.”
“I can.”
“Then order.”
He looked at the drinks.
“What are you having?”
Emma tried not to smile.
“Jamaica.”
G’aikui looked back at the woman.
“Jamaica.”
Emma laughed.
“You copied me.”
“I am evaluating your judgment.”
“Sure.”
Ph’etuv made the small choking noise again.
G’aikui looked back.
“Are you ill?”
“No.”
T’waur was staring at the ground.
Her shoulders were shaking.
G’aikui frowned.
Emma stepped forward.
“Next person. Please.”
Ph’etuv ordered three pork tacos.
“Corn. Onion. Cilantro. Green salsa. Lime. No cheese.”
Emma whispered, “Here comes the doctrine.”
Ph’etuv ignored her.
The woman nodded.
Ph’etuv looked satisfied.
T’waur stepped forward.
“Three cricket tacos.”
The woman did not blink.
“Corn or flour?”
“Corn.”
“Beans?”
“On the side.”
“Rice?”
“Yes.”
“Cheese?”
“Yes.”
Ph’etuv made a disgusted sound.
T’waur looked at her.
“What?”
“Cheese.”
“Yes.”
“With crickets.”
“Yes.”
“That is wrong.”
“You put green salsa on everything.”
“Because green salsa is good.”
“That does not make it correct.”
Emma started laughing.
Ph’etuv turned on her.
“You have not ordered.”
“Beef burrito.”
G’aikui looked at her.
“A burrito?”
Emma stared at him.
“Yes.”
“You criticized my burrito.”
“I criticized you for arguing about tacos and then ordering a burrito.”
“That is exactly what you are doing.”
“I never argued tacos.”
“You participated.”
“I was trapped in the conversation.”
Ph’etuv said, “You started the conversation.”
“I regret all of you.”
The woman behind the window looked at Emma.
“Beans and rice?”
“Both.”
“Salsa?”
“Red.”
G’aikui smiled.
Emma noticed.
“What?”
“You criticized red.”
“I criticized your reasoning.”
“The result is the same.”
“It is not.”
“Cheese?”
“Yes.”
G’aikui’s smile widened.
Emma pointed at him.
“Say nothing.”
He said nothing.
Which was somehow worse.
“Jamaica?” the woman asked.
“Yes.”
G’aikui lifted his cup slightly.
Emma stared at him.
He took a drink.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Ph’etuv turned away before Emma could see her laughing.
They collected their food and moved toward the folding tables.
The taco truck had become the center of lunch.
Workers were walking in from every direction.
V’ren carrying levels and adhesive guns.
Humans with work gloves hanging from back pockets.
Package crews covered in dust.
Parents with children.
Children who had apparently spent the morning doing exactly what they had been told to do, namely go play somewhere else and stay out of the way.
Several V’ren fathers arrived carrying children five and under. Two human mothers followed with more.
Nobody separated into species.
They separated according to who had found an empty chair.
Emma reached a table first.
There were four seats.
She put her food down.
Ph’etuv took one beside her.
T’waur started toward the chair opposite Emma.
Ph’etuv caught her shirt.
T’waur looked at her sister.
Ph’etuv moved her eyes toward the remaining chair.
T’waur understood.
They switched.
G’aikui arrived carrying his burrito and sat across from Emma.
Emma looked at Ph’etuv.
Ph’etuv unwrapped her taco.
“What?”
“You know what.”
“I am eating lunch.”
G’aikui looked between them.
“What did she do?”
“Nothing,” Emma said.
Ph’etuv smiled into her taco.
T’waur took a bite of cricket taco.
Ph’etuv watched.
“Well?”
“Good.”
“You always say that.”
“Because they are always good.”
Emma looked at the taco.
T’waur noticed.
“You want one.”
“No.”
“You are looking at it.”
“I’m looking because there are insects in it.”
“There were insects in it before they cooked them.”
“That does not help.”
T’waur held the taco toward her.
Emma leaned away.
“No.”
G’aikui unwrapped his burrito.
It was enormous.
He stared at it.
Emma smiled.
“You ordered it.”
“This is larger than Tuesday.”
“Worksite burrito.”
“That is a category?”
“It is now.”
He lifted it with both hands.
Ph’etuv looked at him.
“You mocked me for ordering four tacos Tuesday.”
“This is one object.”
“That is not a defense.”
“It is one item.”
Emma laughed.
“That may be the most human argument you’ve made all day.”
G’aikui took a bite.
He stopped.
Emma waited.
“Well?”
He chewed.
Swallowed.
Then took another bite.
“Red was correct.”
Emma smiled.
“Told you.”
“You did.”
“You’re admitting it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s twice today.”
“I am capable of admitting when you are correct.”
Emma leaned forward.
“You just usually don’t?”
“I enjoy seeing how long you will argue.”
Ph’etuv stopped chewing.
T’waur stopped chewing.
Emma blinked.
G’aikui took another bite as though he had said nothing remarkable.
Emma felt herself smiling.
“You argue with me on purpose?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“You make interesting faces.”
Silence.
Ph’etuv slowly lowered her taco.
T’waur stared at her brother.
Emma could feel heat climbing into her face.
G’aikui noticed.
“Are you hot?”
Ph’etuv made a sound like someone had stepped on her.
Emma kicked her under the table.
“No.”
“You changed color.”
“It’s warm.”
G’aikui glanced around.
“It is not particularly warm.”
“Eat your burrito.”
He did.
Emma looked down at hers.
Ph’etuv leaned toward T’waur.
Very quietly, in V’ren, she said something.
G’aikui looked up.
“What did you say?”
Ph’etuv answered in English.
“Nothing.”
“That word is now obviously being used as concealment.”
T’waur nodded.
“Yes.”
Emma laughed despite herself.
G’aikui pointed at her burrito.
“Is yours better?”
“You haven’t tried mine.”
“That is why I asked.”
Emma hesitated.
Then held it across the table.
“Try it.”
G’aikui took it without ceremony and bit from the other side.
Ph’etuv’s eyes widened.
T’waur stared.
Emma took his venison burrito while he still had hers and tried it.
G’aikui watched her.
“Well?”
She chewed.
“That’s really good.”
“Better than beef?”
“No.”
“You are lying.”
“I am not.”
“You made a face.”
Emma stared at him.
“What face?”
“That face.”
T’waur put both hands over her mouth.
Ph’etuv looked at the sky.
Emma handed his burrito back.
“You’ve known me for half a day.”
“Yes.”
“You already know my faces?”
“Some of them.”
Emma forgot what she was going to say.
G’aikui handed her burrito back.
“Your beef is also good.”
“Thank you.”
“The venison is better.”
“There he is.”
He smiled.
Emma took a drink of agua fresca.
G’aikui did the same.
Ph’etuv looked at their matching drinks.
Then at T’waur.
T’waur leaned toward her.
“He has no idea.”
Ph’etuv answered in V’ren.
Emma did not understand the words.
She understood the expression.
“Whatever you just said, stop.”
Ph’etuv smiled.
“We were discussing salsa.”
“No, you weren’t.”
G’aikui looked at his sisters.
“What were you discussing?”
“Salsa,” T’waur said.
“You are lying.”
“Yes.”
At the next table, Anthony Wittenberg dropped into a chair with a burrito, beans, rice and an agua fresca.
Staz Vuhain sat beside him with four tacos.
Cal Mercer arrived last.
He carried three tacos, beans, rice, and an agua fresca.
Gabriel O’Lee looked at Cal’s plate.
“That’s it?”
Cal sat down.
“That’s lunch.”
Gabriel decided this was apparently sufficient explanation.
Staz unwrapped her first taco.
Anthony looked over.
“Venison?”
“Yes.”
“Good choice.”
“You have beef.”
“Yes.”
“Then apparently you do not believe it is a good choice.”
“I can think something is good without ordering it.”
Staz considered that.
“That is suspicious.”
Anthony pointed at her salsa.
“What’d you get?”
“House Fire.”
He stopped.
“You know that’s the hot one.”
“Yes.”
“You got it Tuesday.”
“Yes.”
“You spent half of Tuesday pretending your face wasn’t burning.”
“It tasted good.”
“You were crying.”
“My eyes were watering.”
“That is crying with paperwork.”
Staz stared at him.
Gabriel laughed.
Cal ate a taco.
Ph’etuv leaned toward the other table.
“House Fire has good flavor.”
Anthony looked at her.
“Thank you.”
She continued.
“But it is too hot.”
Anthony pointed at Ph’etuv.
“See?”
Staz looked betrayed.
“You are V’ren.”
“Yes.”
“You should support me.”
“I support you choosing a better salsa.”
T’waur said, “Green.”
Ph’etuv nodded.
“Green.”
G’aikui said, “Red.”
Emma said, “Depends on the meat.”
Everyone looked at her.
Emma shrugged.
“What?”
Ph’etuv said, “That is cowardice.”
“It’s food.”
“You must choose.”
“No, I don’t.”
“That is the point of having choices.”
“The point of having choices is that I can make different choices.”
G’aikui nodded.
“She is correct.”
Emma looked pleased.
Then G’aikui added, “She is often correct about food.”
Emma looked at him.
Ph’etuv looked at G’aikui.
T’waur looked at Ph’etuv.
G’aikui continued eating.
Emma said, “Careful.”
“Why?”
“You’re developing good judgment.”
“I learned from you.”
Emma nearly inhaled her drink.
G’aikui frowned.
“Are you all right?”
Ph’etuv dropped her head onto the table.
T’waur began laughing.
Emma coughed.
“Yes.”
G’aikui looked confused.
“What happened?”
Ph’etuv raised her head.
“Nothing.”
He glared at her.
“That word again.”
T’waur pointed at his burrito.
“You still refuse crickets.”
“Yes.”
“You have not tried them.”
“I do not want to.”
“Why?”
“They are insects.”
Emma laughed.
T’waur stared at her.
“You said exactly the same thing.”
“I know.”
“So now you agree?”
“No. Now I’m enjoying someone else being attacked.”
A man carrying a plate stopped behind them.
“Anybody tried the cricket burrito?”
The table went silent.
T’waur’s eyes widened.
“There is a cricket burrito?”
Ph’etuv looked horrified.
“That is too much cricket.”
T’waur was already standing.
Emma grabbed her wrist.
“You have food.”
“I can have more food.”
“You’re twelve.”
“I am hungry.”
“That is not related to your age.”
“Correct.”
She escaped.
Ph’etuv watched her head back toward the truck.
“She is going to regret that.”
G’aikui shook his head.
“She will not.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I know my sister.”
Anthony took another bite of his beef burrito.
“This is better than tacos.”
Every V’ren at the table turned toward him.
Anthony stopped chewing.
“What?”
Staz looked genuinely offended.
“You cannot say that.”
“I just did.”
“Tacos are better.”
“A burrito has everything contained.”
“That does not make it better.”
“It makes it practical.”
Ph’etuv leaned across the gap between tables.
“Food should not be judged by containment.”
Anthony looked at her.
“I’ve been hanging doors all morning. I want to eat without dropping beef on myself.”
G’aikui raised his burrito.
“He is correct about containment.”
Emma pointed.
“You are both wrong.”
“You ordered a burrito,” G’aikui said.
“I know.”
“Then you agree.”
“I ordered a burrito because I’m hungry.”
“That is why he ordered a burrito.”
Emma stared at him.
“You really do enjoy this.”
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Emma smiled.
G’aikui seemed to realize he had admitted something.
He took a long drink of agua fresca.
Ph’etuv looked delighted.
Emma decided not to rescue him.
“What?”
G’aikui set down the cup.
“Nothing.”
Emma laughed.
“That word again.”
He smiled despite himself.
Cal drank his agua fresca.
Gabriel looked at him.
“You’re not going to weigh in?”
“No.”
“Tacos or burritos?”
Cal took another drink.
“Both.”
The table went quiet.
Ph’etuv frowned.
“That avoids the question.”
“Yes.”
“That is cowardice.”
Cal nodded.
“I’m forty-seven years old and tired. I’ve earned cowardice.”
Anthony laughed.
Staz nudged him.
“You are still wrong.”
“About burritos?”
“Yes.”
“Try mine.”
Staz looked at him.
Anthony held it toward her.
She took a bite.
He watched her.
She chewed.
Her expression changed slightly.
Anthony smiled.
“Good?”
“No.”
“You liked it.”
“No.”
“You absolutely liked it.”
“I said nothing.”
“You made a face.”
“What face?”
“That face.”
At the other table, Emma looked at G’aikui.
G’aikui looked at Emma.
Neither said anything.
Ph’etuv saw that too.
Her smile faded into something more thoughtful.
She leaned toward T’waur and spoke quietly in V’ren.
This time G’aikui did not ask what she said.
Emma did.
“What?”
Ph’etuv shook her head.
“Nothing important.”
Emma narrowed her eyes.
T’waur smiled.
“It is important.”
Ph’etuv kicked her.
T’waur ignored her.
She looked at G’aikui.
Then at Emma.
Then back at her brother.
G’aikui frowned.
“What?”
T’waur asked him something in V’ren.
G’aikui answered immediately.
Ph’etuv’s eyebrows rose.
Emma looked from one to the other.
“Okay. I know that was about me.”
G’aikui turned to her.
“It was not.”
Ph’etuv said, “It was.”
G’aikui glared at his sister.
Emma smiled.
“What did she ask?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was a stupid question.”
T’waur said, “I asked whether he wanted the same delivery crew after lunch.”
Emma paused.
G’aikui looked betrayed.
“That is not what you asked.”
Ph’etuv burst out laughing.
Emma leaned forward.
“What did she actually ask?”
G’aikui spoke rapidly in V’ren.
T’waur answered.
Ph’etuv joined in.
Emma sat back.
“That is cheating.”
G’aikui switched to English.
“Yes.”
T’waur grinned.
“She asked whether he would be disappointed if you drove another crew.”
G’aikui closed his eyes.
Emma went very still.
Ph’etuv slapped a hand over T’waur’s mouth.
Too late.
Emma looked at G’aikui.
“Well?”
G’aikui opened his eyes.
His sisters were staring at him.
Emma was staring at him.
There was no pheromonal signal.
Nothing in the air told him what Emma wanted.
Nothing in his body categorized the way she watched him, or the way she smiled at him, or why she had apparently cared that he always took the passenger seat.
There was only the question.
He looked at Emma.
“Yes.”
Emma blinked.
“Yes what?”
“I would be disappointed.”
Ph’etuv slowly removed her hand from T’waur’s mouth.
Emma smiled.
“Why?”
G’aikui frowned as though that were the difficult part.
“Because I like our crew.”
Ph’etuv groaned.
T’waur dropped her forehead onto the table.
Emma laughed.
G’aikui looked at his sisters.
“What?”
Ph’etuv waved one hand.
“Nothing.”
“No.”
He pointed at her.
“You do not get to use that word anymore.”
Emma was still smiling.
“So you want me driving after lunch?”
“Yes.”
“Passenger seat?”
“Yes.”
Ph’etuv made another strangled noise.
G’aikui looked at her.
“What is wrong with the passenger seat?”
Emma said, “Nothing.”
G’aikui narrowed his eyes.
She smiled at him.
“Absolutely nothing.”
T’waur returned carrying half a cricket burrito.
Only half.
Ph’etuv pointed at it.
“What happened?”
“I traded.”
“With whom?”
T’waur pointed toward another table where a human boy was eating the other half.
“He wanted to try it.”
Emma looked at her.
“You found someone else willing to eat a cricket burrito?”
“Yes.”
“How is it?”
T’waur took a bite.
Everyone waited.
She chewed thoughtfully.
“It needs green salsa.”
Ph’etuv threw both hands into the air.
“Yes!”
G’aikui groaned.
Emma laughed.
Around them, the lunch crowd kept growing.
Pork versus beef.
Beef versus venison.
Everybody versus crickets until somebody actually tried them.
Corn versus flour.
Cheese versus no cheese.
Red versus green.
House Fire because it tasted good.
House Fire because someone had something to prove.
Three tacos versus one burrito.
Beans inside or beside it.
Rice inside or beside it.
Somebody at another table had apparently started an argument over whether beans belonged in a burrito at all.
The taco truck had been parked in Leta for less than a day.
The V’ren had been on Earth fifteen days.
Nobody was discussing first contact.
Nobody was discussing Progenitors.
Nobody was discussing the future of two species.
They were arguing about lunch.
Cal finished his last taco and stood.
“Five minutes.”
A chorus of complaints came from both tables.
Cal picked up his empty plate.
“Doors don’t hang themselves.”
Anthony looked at Staz.
“Tacos don’t eat themselves.”
Cal kept walking.
“Four minutes.”
Everyone started eating faster.
G’aikui finished his burrito.
Emma still had several bites left.
He looked toward the parked side-by-side.
Then back at her.
“I will get the next trailer.”
Emma looked up.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“I can get it.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
He paused.
Ph’etuv and T’waur both stopped eating.
G’aikui looked at Emma.
“So it is ready when you finish.”
Emma smiled.
“Okay.”
He stood.
Then picked up her empty agua fresca cup with his own.
Emma watched him walk toward the trash and then toward the trailer staging area.
Ph’etuv waited until he was well out of hearing.
Then she turned toward Emma.
“He does not know.”
Emma watched him go.
“I know.”
T’waur leaned forward.
“He really does not know.”
“I know.”
Ph’etuv looked after her brother.
“There is nothing for him to smell.”
Emma glanced at her.
The words landed differently than the teasing had.
Ph’etuv tapped her nose.
“With us, he would know there was something to notice.”
Emma looked back toward G’aikui.
He had reached the side-by-side and was already checking the hitch on the next loaded trailer.
Of course he was checking the hitch.
Twice.
“So what do I do?” Emma asked.
Ph’etuv smiled.
“Apparently?”
She nodded toward her brother.
“Keep talking.”
T’waur added, “Very clearly.”
Emma laughed.
G’aikui looked back from the side-by-side.
He saw her watching.
He raised one hand.
Emma waved.
He smiled.
Ph’etuv leaned toward T’waur.
“Maybe extremely clearly.”
Emma kicked both of them under the table.
