Chapter 9: Routine

This sucks.

As I looked on listlessly, my fork sat untouched in the instant noodle cup. Meera was with me, as usual, but she was silent. The plan to get in her head seemed to be going well, but there wasn’t any way to know without testing her. Something I was loathed to do unless I knew for sure that it had worked. Two rotation cycles just weren’t enough time to know for certain.

We were in the commissary getting food, not that I was all that hungry. As it turned out, I didn’t actually need to eat very much at all. One cup of noodles a rotation, or if I had something with more substance, I could go for a few full rotations without eating and suffer no ill effects. That had been the cause of Meera’s prior surprise: I had felt hunger pangs. In the rotations since they had stopped entirely.

Something to do with being chosen was the explanation given to me. Food could still be eaten, but the quantities required were much lower than I was used to. The feeling of hunger had seemingly been a memory; my body remembered not eating and instinctively made me feel hungry for a moment.

I don’t buy that, but these people aren’t exactly reliable sources. My only other option would be to ask Michael, but all my requests to see him keep getting rejected!

It was almost to the point of considering searching for him when going up to my training sessions with Sensei. But the risk of being caught and punished for snooping around was too high. For now. Instead, I did my best to work with what was given to me. Always listening, just in case something useful dropped. This was why I went on these daily outings to the commissary; to listen to people talk.

“She’s here again? What is it today?”

“The instant noodles again.”

Of course, not everything I heard had much substance. Like those two grey suits in the corner, they were here occasionally at first but recently had been coming more often. It was almost like they were actively trying to match my schedule.

No, that’s exactly what they’re doing. They’re always paying attention to my eating and commenting on it. Seriously, when are people going to stop doing stuff like that? I’m starting to think Meera was full of it. …And it’s not like I particularly like these; they’re just the only food that looks halfway edible to me!

Even with the unwelcome attention, the commissary was a good place to listen since so many people passed through it. It was like a company store in how it functioned and a cafeteria in how the eating area was set up.

One of the white suits came in just then. These were a bit more tolerable than the grays since they didn’t idly gossip or gawk at me; he nodded in mine and Meera’s direction and then went to look at the shelf of pre-packaged lunch foods. In the end, he selected a pouch of gel. According to the label, it was “Steak Flavored.”

At least my noodles are solid!

After selecting, he walked up to a terminal and produced his tablet. Now that I knew what to look for, it was evident that not everyone was using the same device; his was palm-sized compared to Meera’s nearly laptop-sized screen. The devices, or more accurately, the accounts tied to them, were responsible for handling the payments, and after letting the terminal scan his tablet, he headed to find a seat.

As for why the devices were used, as opposed to biometrics, it probably had to do with data storage or something. That was my theory, at least. The subject matter itself was well outside the scope of my expertise. Whatever the case, I wouldn’t have been able to eat without my earpiece, which explained why Meera had taken me to get it beforehand.

And as for this thing, other than scanning and paying for things, it doesn’t really do much.