Chapter 3 : Breakfast for Thirty-Two

It should have been overwhelming: preparing a breakfast for 32 people. There were going to be 28 humans and 4 canines—my sweet Princess Silvia and her tutor Garma were two of the canines and the other two were Scoo and a subordinate male named Lahr. My household contributed six humans. After six weeks I would see my old crew again—they and their mommies added 14 humans to the guest list. The remaining eight breakfast guests were going to be 'important officials.'

Why breakfast? Brunch, really—we humans like to sleep in. Silvia had bragged about Omelet Day on board the Futile Gesture. Once per week I would prepare omelets for the entire crew—not a burden because a Futility-class Intruder averages about a dozen people in its crew. For long range penetration missions such as the Futile Gesture's last the crew size is limited in order to increase duration—when supplies run out, it's the end of the mission. The Futility-class only has a 20 ton cargo hold.

Twins Babs and Becky were assisting. Silvia was an experienced galley hand. We started cooking 90 minutes prior to serving time. The kitchen had to be modified, we turned the Great Room into a dining area with a U-shaped table, and 28 chairs had been arranged for family and guests. I'm making it sound hard. Planning for a long range penetration mission lasting three, four or even six months with only wilderness refueling was much harder. As part of the festivities, Fawn had applied body paints to Babs, Becky and me—fur can be painted, too, but Silvia was decorated with ribbons and jewelry instead of paint.

The main course was omelets, but side dishes included relishes, sauces, and other toppings for each. If this had been the Futile Gesture I would have simply put out different topping containers for the crew and let them add their own to taste. With 28 diners it was easier to give them all pre-garnished omelets. Bread was an important part of the meal—and grilled tubers. These root crops were traditionally potatoes that were cooked in boiling oil, but I had to adapt. Different fruits and cheeses and spices added to the flavors, added enough variety to tailor omelets to individual tastes. Beverages finished the meal: fruit drinks, liquors, and the old stand-by of 'coffee, tea or cocoa.'

"I've never seen Mother Regina so agitated," Babs told Becky.

"Matron is coming," Becky replied.

"Oh."

Garma had been training me in the mental arts of her people. One aspect was disciplining myself to block out other people's thoughts. That's easy for most humans but has a price—humans key off each other through smell, body language, sounds—the weak electric impulses of the brain do have an effect but the distance is normally quite intimate. Telepathy is the reason that Garma's people had reached the limits of their civilization—they got so involved with one another that they didn't have the time and energy for technological development. Silvia was showing them the way—it takes a lot of people for advancing the frontiers of knowledge. They don't all have to be the same species.

Fawn directed people to their places on the table, which had already been set. And then the four kitchen staff was summoned to bring in the food.

Had I not known that the former crew of the Futile Gesture were going to be the youngest girls, I wouldn't have been able to recognize them. Even their names had been changed: Captain Justin Barnes became Justine and Medical Officer Brandon Gates was now Brandi. They didn't recognize Princess Silvia at first—there were three other of Silvia's people: Garma, Scoo and Lahr. They noticed when Silvia's name was mentioned. They still didn't recognize me and were too subdued to say much—except Brandi said that breakfast reminded her of the Futile Gesture's navigator, Nolan Gruber.