Frozen Enemies by Zac Harrison

Author:Zac Harrison [Harrison, Zac]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Curious Fox
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“This place is incredible,” he said out loud, nudging Kaal.

“Eh? What?” his friend replied. “You think the plates are inedible?”

John was so busy staring around, he didn’t notice the silver trolley rolling across the floor until it stopped right in front of the group.

“Good evening, honoured guests” the box-on-wheels said in a high-pitched voice. “You must be the party from Hyperspace High.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ms Vartexia nodded. “I believe we have a table booked, but I’m afraid we are missing two of our group.”

“That is quite all right,” the trolley replied. “You are the only visiting party on the planet at the moment and we have arranged everything for your supreme enjoyment. Please, follow me.”

Turning away, the trolley-waiter trundled across the floor to a large, round table surrounded by MorphSeats and set for eighteen. In the centre was another crystal ball that looked like a smaller version of the restaurant itself. Blobs of coloured light moved through it.

Small name cards told each student where to sit. Silently, another trolley rolled forward. A hatch opened in its side and long metal arms emerged, removing two of the place settings.

“They’ve really thought about this,” John whispered to Emmie, as he looked around the table. In front of him was a place setting that included a knife, fork, and spoon. Emmie’s had the metal prong that Sillarans used for eating. Kaal’s had the Derrilian tarb, which looked like a cross between a large spoon and a fork.

“Thank you for noticing,” purred the waiter. Its own metal arm emerged and the machine clicked its fingers. Instantly, words appeared in the air above John’s plate: the menu. “At Optical Orbit we pride ourselves on providing the perfect dining experience for every guest,” the trolley told him. “Everything must be just so.”

Glancing at the menu, John started with surprise. It listed all his favourite foods: spare ribs, cheeseburger, sweet and sour chicken, lasagne, and more. In the side-order section he found fries, onion rings, coleslaw: again, everything he loved. “How did you—” he began.

The trolley made a noise that sounded to John like a titter. “We have our ways, sir,” it said.

“Cool, they have Derrilian Colca,” said Kaal, as the waiter rolled away. “And Nish Crab, and... hey, it’s all my favourite things.”

“Mine, too,” said Emmie. “How do they do that?”

“Most likely they take information from Archivus Major’s DNA scanners and cross-reference it to a database of your home planet’s most popular meals,” explained Lishtig. “Look, I’ve got Trilbean Stew on my menu. I’m the only person on Slarce who hates Trilbean Stew.”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” said the trolley-waiter, returning to the table. “There’s been a mistake.” It snapped its metal fingers again. The words over Lishtig’s place-setting changed. “That menu was for a Slarcian visitor we had last week. “This one,” he chuckled, placing a new menu in front of Listhig, “has Lormfry instead of Trilbean Stew.”

“But... but Lormfry’s my absolute favourite,” spluttered Lishtig.

“We know, sir. We know. Now, may I take your orders?”

After

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