The other day I saw a samurai buy a 'portable campfire lamp' that they gave away after they ‘were done with it’. The manual that came with the thing said it would have power for 5000 more hours.

I don’t even want to think how many points they blew on that or how many antis they could have killed with those points.

The worst was watching them push aside all the leaf litter, twigs, and even small logs to make a ‘safe spot’ for their ‘campfire’...

* Discord message 2028

***

If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

Once I get everybody situated in the cafeteria, eating their super high tech ‘Restorative Meals’, I wander back into the kitchen, eating my Füd Bär shaped Meal. “I really wanna get the kitchen fixed up if I can, but I’m worried about spending the points I’ll need to buy food tomorrow.”

Every Vanguard receives ten points per day as a kind of stipend. While it will require some work on your part to turn ingredients into healthy food, ten points should be more than enough to feed everyone with some to spare. Four points of nutrient paste would keep all of them fed for the day, after all.

“Yeah, I think you called that stuff ‘uninspiring’. What’s it actually taste like?”

I don’t actually know. AI do not eat, after all, and while I could describe which chemical compounds it contains, the nuance of those flavors is lost on me.

“You managed to make this pretty tasty.” I wave the faux Füd Bär. “How’d you do that without knowing what stuff tastes like?”

Some of my fellow AI have worked with their Vanguards to document what flavors and combinations humans find appealing. In addition, they’ve created several databases of recipes we can access. With your Meal, since you seem to treat Füd Bärs as comfort food, I started with basic nutrient paste, added the vitamins and minerals you needed more of, then applied the texture and flavor profile from a recipe called, ‘juicy beef jerky’.

I stop, swallow, stare at the fake Füd Bär for a moment, then take another bite. Only this time instead of trying for the biggest bite I can swallow without chewing it if it turns out nasty, which is kind of a survival skill with my Füd Bär only diet, I bite off maybe half of that, paying close attention to the texture. It’s a little like some high quality fake fruit my mom bought for us one Christmas, at least as far as I remember. The flavor, though, is a buttery smooth savory, salty, spicy concoction that’s better than any of the chemistry I ever tasted in a Füd Bär, even the ones with the premium flavor packets.

“So this is what beef tastes like?”

Beef jerky. My files indicate there are better recipes, but none seemed appropriate for application to a meal bar.

“Wait, it’s supposed to taste better than this?”

Apparently so.

“We have got to fix this kitchen up then. What can I get for the points I’ve got?”

Unfortunately, the best catalog for your present needs is the Class I Minor Cooking Implements Catalog, but that is, unfortunately, fifty points. Five points out of reach, although you could wait for tomorrow?

I shook my head. “I need to be able to send them home with food. Normally everybody gets a Füd Bär, but after the stuff today I think they’d riot. Or just dump them somewhere, which isn’t a good idea if there are still any Antithesis wandering around.”

Good news on that front. Not only was the incursion focused across the river in Philadelphia, all of the incursion pods were destroyed almost immediately. While there will be an uptick in roaming Antithesis, both from potential survivors and from hidden pockets activated by the incursion pheromones, nearly a century of accumulated waste have prevented the pockets on this side of the river from developing into proper Hives.

“Wait. You telling me that Camden is Antithesis proof?”

Hardly. However, since most of the surrounding area is either farmland or forested suburbs, and the population of Camden tends to respond to Antithesis sightings with violence rather than panic, the Antithesis appear to treat Camden as ‘high cost, low reward’.

I try to stop it, but I can’t. I laugh, keeping the sound low out of ingrained instinct. But that just makes it take longer to get it all out. Before I’m done I’m wheezing, clinging to the defunct deep fryer I’ve propped my butt on, Chyrl’s voice fills my ears again.

Are you all right, Jackie?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” I wipe some tears from my eyes. “I really needed that.”

If I may ask, what were you laughing at?

That starts me giggling again, but I manage to force out, “Not even the damn Antithesis want to live in Camden.”

Chyrl sighs. Your humor tends to be fairly dark, you realize?

“If it weren’t for dark humor, we wouldn’t have any at all. So… I can’t get the Catalog I need to really kick this place up a notch, but… maybe I can get some simple cookbooks, ingredients, and some propane for the grill?”

Shall we start with the propane and cookbooks? Then you can choose the recipes you want to start with, and we’ll get the ingredients for those.

“Sounds good!”

New Purchase: Propane (and propane accessory)

Points reduced to... 44

New Purchase: Chyrl’s Cookbook Collection

Points reduced to... 43

A moment later I get a ping in my augs indicating I’ve got new data files waiting for me, and right after that the grill gets shoved an inch forward as something huge materializes behind it. A big thing that looks like one of the heating oil tanks next to some of the really old houses near by now takes up all the space behind the grill.

“What the heck is that?”

Your new propane tank. I took some liberties with the design, since in the future I can refill it for you as needed. It holds exactly one point worth of propane, at least from Lab Jack It’s ‘Industrial Chemical Supplies’ Catalog. I suppose it might be a couple points to fill it completely if she’s out of town. Not that you should need to for a while.

“Wow. Uh… how do I hook it up?”

Do you see the hose hanging from the end nearest the grill’s propane connection?

“Oh. Duh. Thanks, Chyrl.”

De nada.

I take a minute to pull the empty propane tank away from the grill, go hunt up an old set of pliers to detach the hose from the grill itself, then carefully attach the new hose to the grill. The connection snugs down automatically as I slide it into place.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Is that safe?”

As safe as I can make it without replacing the grill itself.

“Fair. Is there some kinda fancy controls for the tank?”

Yes and no. There are internal electronic controls for the gas flow, but there is also a simple manual valve recessed next to where the hose connects. You can connect to the controls with your augs, but for the moment I’ve turned the gas off until you’re ready to use it. Also, obviously, the valve is currently preventing gas flow as well.

“Cool.”

I take another bite of my jerky faux Füd Bär, only this time instead of chewing it as fast as I can until I can swallow, I take my time, savoring the flavor. I bring up the cookbook collection on my new augs, and they pop into existence immediately, just there, no load time, no buffering, just… there. “Wow. Are, like, all real augs this good?”

Well, no, but I can say with confidence that your former ones were, in fact, awful.

I shrug. “Best my mom could afford.” I see that there’s a search feature, and I start with the word ‘grill’, because that’s the one piece of equipment I’ve got. The first thing that pops up sparks memories of one of mom’s splurges. Grilled Cheese. I open up the recipe to realize that the full recipe is ‘Grilled Cheese with Creamy Tomato Soup’.

“Damn,” I cuss, realizing right then how much I really wanted to use this recipe.

What’s wrong, Jackie?

“This looks so good, but I can’t make Tomato Soup on the dang grill now, can I?”

I’m certain you could, if you had a pot. It might not work as well as the stove, but… I’m assuming the stove is non-functional?

“You’re assuming right. But… Gimme a second.” I jog back to the walk-in fridge, which has long since become an air-tight closet, and pull a pot as big as my torso off the shelf. I juggle it for a moment to grab a ladle as well, then return to the kitchen with my prizes. As I bounce my way back to the grill, wondering if I ought to go back to my room and pick up my regular day wear feet, I call out, “Chyrl, can you get me the ingredients for eighty servings of the Grilled Cheese and Creamy Tomato Soup recipe? The one I’ve got open on my augs?”

You don’t need to raise your voice, Jackie. I’m right here in your head. Chyrl’s voice is soft in my ear, not so close as to startle me, but enough to make my face warm with embarrassment.

“Yeah. Shit, sorry.”

De nada.

New Purchase: Grilled Cheese and Fortified Creamy Tomato Soup Ingredients x80

Points reduced to... 35

“Fortified?”

In order to prevent recurrence of the malnutrition problem, I’ve supplemented the cream and butter with nutrient paste. It shouldn’t affect the flavor or texture.

“Cool. I didn’t think of that. Thanks.”

De nada.

I set the pot on the grill, staring at the piles of boxes that appear on the steel countertop, each with the distinctive crossed spatulas logo. Then I realize something. “Dang. There’s no way I can send this home with them.”

Chyrl hums. We could purchase inexpensive disposable containers, but…

“By the time they get it home, it’ll all be cold. Which is still better than what most of them have, but they don’t all have a way to reheat it.” I sigh. “I guess we can do this for lunch tomorrow. What can we do that won’t go all nasty on the trip home?”

Depending on what types of containers you acquire, anything meant to be eaten at room temperature would work.

“Hey! These cases you bring stuff in with, are they…?”

Vanguard equipment cases are generally intended to be aggressively biodegradable, unless specifically designed not to be. The containers for the meals will begin falling apart in roughly eight hours.

I push my hood back, rubbing at my scalp through my close-cropped hair. “Yeah. That’ll still work for getting sandwiches home, I guess.” I check the cookbooks for sandwiches. Then cold sandwiches. Then ‘room temperature’ sandwiches. Then ‘lukewarm’ sandwiches. “How many recipes are living in my head now?”

Ninety-nine thousand, two hundred and forty-five, not counting repeats across different cookbooks, although there may be some that differ only in presentation or order of operations.

“Do… Do those matter?”

Order of operations can significantly change any fabrication process, and a quote from one of the cookbooks says, ‘we eat with our eyes and nose before our mouths’, which I suspect is an acknowledgement that if food appeals to the other senses, humans are more inclined to taste it without negative preconceptions. But I am not specialized in cooking.

“Yet.”

Chyrl laughs. Yet indeed.

I think about the few times mom managed to score us some actual food. “Peanut butter and jelly?”

Jam is slightly less likely to melt in the heat. Also, four of your students, one of the teachers, and one of your auxiliaries are allergic to peanuts.

“Shit. Um…” I look at the table. “Cold cheese sandwiches?” When Chyrl doesn't reply I look up a cold cheese sandwich recipe. Of course it uses a different kind of cheese. Kinds of cheese. There are different kinds of cheese other than just ‘yellow’, ‘white’, and ‘moldy’. Who knew? “Okay, Chyrl, get me the ingredients for seventy four ‘Peanut Butter and Grape Jam Sandwiches’, per the recipe I’ve got up, and enough for six ‘Classic Cheese Sandwiches’, again per the recipe on my augs.”

New Purchase: Fortified Peanut Butter and Jam Sandwich Ingredients x74

Points reduced to... 28

New Purchase: Fortified Classic Cheese Sandwich Ingredients x6

Points reduced to... 27

More boxes blink into existence further down the table, at which point I realize there’s some condensation occurring on the ones sitting there already. I distinctly remember there being ‘cream’ in one of those recipes, and that means they need to be refrigerated. I can’t remember the last time I put something in the fridge, but I’m pretty sure there’s room for everything.

I open the fridge door, then slam it shut. “Oh. Oh, god, that’s…” I spend the next minute trying not to barf. I don’t even remember what’s in there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s developed sentience and has its own culture by now.

That’s… suboptimal.

“Shit. You can’t get me a good fridge without a Catalog, can you?”

Yes and no.

“Explain?”

I cannot get you anything resembling a cooling chamber. On the other hand, Lab Jack It has three different Marks of Stasis Chambers you can purchase. The basic Mark I Stasis Chamber will reduce all decay and heat transfer by a factor of one hundred, and it is also reasonably well insulated.

“Uh…”

In this heat, the cream will go bad within hours. In a Mark I Stasis Chamber, that will be extended to a minimum of one hundred hours, more likely several hundred. It’ll stay as fresh as it is now for days to weeks.

“Okay then. Get me as many of those as I can afford.”

New Purchase: Mark I Stasis Container x2

Points reduced to... 7

A rectangular box appears on the counter under the cabinets, opposite the prep table where the cream is.

“Only one?”

Configuring them as a single unit allowed me to put slightly more volume inside. Cream first, then butter, then cheese. The bread should last until tomorrow if you keep the packages closed.

I get to work unloading the cream from the delivery packages and putting it into the Stasis Box. The butter goes next, stacked up in neat blocks. Finally I lay the cheese in front, eventually forming a solid layer at the front of the box, then slide the whole thing closed.

“Okay then. I guess I’d better get ready to… Sugar honey iced tea.” I take a deep centering breath. “I forgot the little ones. Can I get six more of those restorative bottle thingies?”

At this point the restorative meals would have no benefit beyond what has already been achieved, Jackie.

I slump back down. “Yeah, but… they’re the most important ones. Gimme… Gimme something, at least?”

If you’re certain. The Stasis Containers already lowered your point totals below most Vanguard’s emergency medical savings.

“You wanna ask me what I’d think of somebody who let a little kid go hungry ‘cause they’re scared they might get hurt?”

As you wish, Vanguard.

New Purchase: Custom Fortified Nutritional Supplement Meals x6

Points reduced to... 1

Six more Samurai containers pop into existence on the table I just emptied. With everybody fed for the evening, tension finally leaks out of my shoulders as I lean back onto the edge of a counter. Well, most of it. I still have to collect up the lunch containers, make all the sandwiches, load them up, and distribute them, but that’s just detail work. Work is nothing new. Work is just the price of being alive.

The cafeteria’s gone quiet; I’m not sure if everybody’s in a food coma, or Dirk has decided to give one of his little cafeteria life lesson lectures. I just hope they’re all still in the room, because if they’ve left I have no idea what they’ve done with the containers. Then I hear a big wobbly thump from the other room.

No idea if there’s a fight going on, or somebody’s goofing around, but the cafeteria’s my responsibility. I push myself off the counter and jog into the dining area. Every face in the room turns to me, horror turning to hope, even the gang bangers, before a couple of them reach out trembling arms to point at the long polycarbonate windows at one end of the room.

Where a single Model Three stands outside staring at us all.