Patterson left the Bridge and went to Farm Gate, detouring to the Officer’s Berthing to put on a set of work coveralls which hardly fit her bust. The Nineveh was largely self-sufficient. They grew their own food and efficiently recycled air and water. Robbie had gathered food for their breakfast, but it was time to harvest what was needed to operate in Delta-Hydri for the weeks or months needed to complete their task. Certainly, a bounty had been raised while they were in cryo.

She passed through Propulsion Four and met Stocky in the storage ‘barn’ on the edge of Farm Gate. He already had his coveralls dirty and appeared anxious. He looked almost comically uncomfortable in his coveralls. They had taken some basic measurements when he came aboard to tailor a set for him but she needed to take additional ones and make better work clothes. His coveralls were far too tight in the calves, thighs, chest, and arms, and loose around the neck. Stocky was almost human – and so were his proportions.

Ghost trotted along behind her. He caught up with her when she stopped to talk and began to rub his head against her legs. He quickly started a vibrant purr.

She pointed at the supply shelves in the barn. “Are you ready to refill these?”

“Sure. I’ve already gathered a few of the leafy and root vegetables; I didn’t know how long you’d be in the Officer conference. Robbie’s misting our crops right now. Is it just going to be us?”

“Probably. I think almost everyone is going to nap. We’ll have the ship to ourselves for a few hours. I’m normally alone during these times. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Having the ship to ourselves for a bit sounds nice.” He pointed at Ghost. “Is he going to help us?”

“No. He’s a cat. He does what he wants.” She knelt down and stroked his head.

They gathered gloves, garden tools, and a metal cage on a pushcart and rolled it out into the Farm. Patterson gathered some green tops from among the crops and laid them out in the cage, making a bed.

“What’s first in mind?” Stocky asked.

She glanced upward at him and saw his dark eyes fixed on hers. She had rarely needed to look up appreciably since coming aboard. Just when speaking with De Silva, and now also with Stocky who was almost a full head taller than him. The vulnerable feeling was exciting. She looked across the Gate. “Let’s see how our grasscutters have multiplied. I don’t want their cages to be overcrowded. And I just know they are.”

They rolled the cart over to a series of stacked cages, keeping out of the way of the many tracked robots that were tending the farm. She heard the characteristic “ch-ch-ch” sound coming from the cages. The sound of their munching and the movement between the leafy greens and stalks within the cages proved that they had an abundance of grasscutters. It wasn’t unexpected; they only needed six months to reach maturity. And that fact, combined with their naturally lean and tender meat, made them a nearly ideal protein source for a starship.

She opened the top lid to the nearest cage. Five rodents scurried, trying to hide within the trimmings. One of them was too young but the others had lots of meat.

We’re going to be eating a lot of rat. She looked at Ghost. You too.

The expanded herd was a blessing. Two or three in the spacious cages was ideal. They needed reaping.

Leaving the gloves on the cart, she thrust her hand in like a striking cobra and then gently pulled out a huge rat (although they are not true rats). It kicked and fussed for a moment, showing its large teeth, and then rested still. Ghost watched with huge, dilated pupils from a distance. He was a predator and would gladly kill babies, but this grown rat was as large as him.

You’ll get plenty too.

She set the grasscutter inside the cage on the cart and told Stocky to grab a big one. He had her speed and even tougher skin, and he likewise spurned the gloves. She watched him rapidly seize one and set it in their cage.

“How does grasscutter on the griddle, drizzled with chimichurri, with yuca con mojo and a garden salad on the side sound for dinner?”

He closed the top lid. “It sounds more gourmet than what I’m used to.”

“This is where we live. You do too now. You need to start thinking about what you want.”

“Alright, but I don’t know what yuca con mojo is.”

“Well, you’ll have to try it.” She pointed at a stack of masonry containers within another partition. “Push the cart over there. We’ll check on our snails. Then we can dig up some tubers. Let’s also gather supplies to get a batch of kimchi going. We’re going to be out here for a couple of months – at least. We need sources of vitamin k and good microflora.”

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She glanced at him and caught him looking at her body and breathing deeply. She was used to being eyed. But his breathing was perplexing. It was a slow, repeated inhalation through the nose and not a lustful panting. And he had always done it. He immediately looked away and pushed the cart like she said. She followed along behind him silently, grinning.

So you are starting to think about what you want.

The two of them opened the masonry containers housing their snails, and Patterson looked in. They were plentiful and could likewise be harvested. She gathered a portion in clean jars to isolate them and control what they could eat. Stocky could eat them as they were, but she needed to eliminate their toxicity to make them safe for the others.

Robbie met them there. “You don’t wish to sleep?” it asked.

“We’re good. How are the chickens?”

“The chickens are healthy and are ranging in Green Gate. The rooster is now grown. He’s a singer.”

He can crow all he wants. He’s not going to disturb us in Habitation. “I saw the eggs in the shed and so I assumed they were fine. We’ve got plenty of other meat and so we’re probably not going to eat any of the hens for a while.”

“Very good,” Robbie said. “The Gates are well tended. The plants have been misted less than an hour ago. Would you like my assistance with anything?”

“Yes, please.” She shut the lids on her snail jars and pointed at the stacks of tubers. “The three of us should be able to gather up our root vegetables without difficulty. We’re going to eat the ones you have on the shelves, so let’s replenish with new.”

“Excellent idea,” Robbie said.

They went to the growing columns containing their root vegetables – beets, turnips, radishes, carrots, taro, potatoes, yuca, onions and such. They were staples of the crew’s diet, but strength was needed to harvest them. Robbie was physically very strong. That attribute made up for some of his limited dexterity.

The three of them quickly gathered their crop, being careful to keep as much dirt in the columns as possible. And then they flattened out the soil when they were done. Ghost lost interest in their labor and wandered off. Cats.

They now had enough of a harvest to last for several days and she asked them to help take the load to the barn. She organized everything and studied the bins to ensure they supported a varied and healthy diet. Then she went with Stocky to several of the other columns to trim greens and herbs, and then they harvested some of their aquaculture.

Stocky seemed truly happy and eager to learn from her. She knew he found her attractive, but he also genuinely appeared to value her company. She found herself smiling most of the time too. Smiles are contagious. And it didn’t feel like work. He mentioned that they didn’t grow much food on the Abydos. She suspected laziness. Starships monitored themselves. Once you tuned the crew’s workplan to stay on top of maintenance life on the ship became mostly free time. You could live like you wanted to.

“Have you ever made kimchi? We ferment it down here because of the smell. It’s a nutritional jewel.”

“I’ve never made it.”

“I’ll show you how.”

They washed their hands and then gathered several large jars and some salt. She showed him how to wash and cut the cabbage, scallions, carrots, chilis, and radishes. They set most of them aside in the cooler and brined the cabbage. Then she led him by the hand to Green Gate.

“We might as well enjoy ourselves while we wait on that.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed rigid, uncomfortable. He would loosen up.

She set up a display among the trees and killed the lights. And they sat down on a grassy spot. She started 1978’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers in the darkened forest, waiting for the cabbage to be ready to mix the kimchi. His eyes frequently glanced over her body as he sat next to her.

“Ever seen it before?”

“No, what’s it about?”

“Alien invasion.”

“Aren’t we doing that to them?”

“No!” She looked at him incredulously. “We’re here to pick up a probe that’s as far from their home as ours.”

She would tell him more about their assignment later. Stocky was a shared resource between Engineering and Sci-Med so he needed to be aware of the scientific requirements for their operation. Delta Hydri was not even a quarter billion years old. Any planetoids had paper thin crusts which were constantly being resculpted via volcanic activity. There was nothing alive in this system, and certainly no civilization to intrude upon. All of their focus would be on the cold derelict object hurling through the icy far reaches of this system.

Ghost came back shortly into the movie, meowing in the dark as he drew near. She called him and pulled him into her lap to pet him. She glanced at Stocky and saw him looking at Ghost and her breasts. Their eyes met and then he drew up close to pet the cat. She glanced down frequently and watched Stocky’s hand coming close to her breasts as he stroked Ghost, but carefully missing each time. He wasn’t watching the movie anymore.

“Isn’t he cute?”

Stocky looked back at the movie. “Who?”

“Our cat!”

He nodded. Ghost soon purred happily and began to rub his head against her boobs. His mouth partly opened as he brushed his face over her coveralls, revealing his fangs. She smiled, thinking about how he was certainly drawing more attention to her than himself.

Stocky stopped petting him. She heard his stressful breathing, and she watched him out of the corner of her eyes while the actors in the movie examined a pod body. His eyes were fixed on her chest. “It has a few frights,” she said.

“No,” Stocky said turning towards the screen, “I wouldn’t have any trouble with these pod people. Panic and denial are human weaknesses.”

“Okay, I just thought… You seemed…” She stopped herself and stroked Ghost’s head while grinning.

He relaxed and began to pet Ghost on the lower back, as if now afraid to pet his head. He kept breathing in peculiarly slow, deep breaths. His eyes watched her more than the movie. She leaned into him and he soon put an arm around her.

He had his hand on her shoulder at first. But she shifted her position and coaxed him to reach down her back and hold her waist. It was nice to have companions on the lonely hours.