Memory Transcription Subject: Chiri Garnet, Gojid Bartender

Date [standardized human time]: November 20, 2136

"Honestly, we would serve something like this to children back on Venlil Prime," said Bylek, gazing with scorn at his glass of pilsner.

Then stop ordering the weakest thing on the menu! shouted Shadow, ever the critic.

"So what is it you do again?" I asked, willing my eye to stop twitching. "If it's imports, there are a lot of Federation ingredients we'd be interested in--"

"Sorry, I have to take this," the Venlil said, holding his powered-off holopad to his ear and pacing off out of earshot. "Hey, Slanek, what's good? Yeah, I can talk."

Did… did he seriously just grab the first name he could think of off the newsreels from the war and pretend it's his business partner? Shadow asked, flabbergasted.

Be fair, said Luna. More than one person can have the same name. Maybe he's really in business with a guy named Slanek, wholly unrelated to that Venlil kid on all the U.N. propaganda posters.

His HOLOPAD is turned OFF! Shadow shouted incredulously. He's not talking to ANYONE!

Oh… said Luna. Right, yeah, that's kinda sketchy of him, isn't it?

I let the Venlil wander off. The others at the bar seemed to be doing alright for the moment. A few people were clustering around awkwardly by the entrance, waiting for a table. Sylvie nodded to them in acknowledgement, but ducked into the kitchen to drag Rosi back out first. One human caught my eye as she drifted over towards the bar. She was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, same as David did when he went for long walks. She looked a little sweaty, like she'd been jogging, and I wasn't sure if her expression of slack-jawed wonder was about the restaurant or dehydration. She had shoulder-length hair the color of blonde ale.

Ohhh, that's where that word comes from, said Luna. The hair color is named after the beer.

Or vice-versa? Shadow pointed out, hesitantly. The beer could be named after the hair color?

No. That's ridiculous, said Luna. Don't be absurd. We looked this up, remember? Beer was invented in ancient Sumer, by people with hair so dark they called themselves 'the black-headed people'. Obviously, the beer came first. The hair color must have been invented later.

"Hi, welcome to the Carnival!" I said, cutting the internal dialogue short. The restaurant was technically called the Cropsey Carnival, but David was toying with the idea of rebranding, especially since Cropsey Avenue didn't really exist anymore. "Can I get you anything?"

The human woman was staring wide-eyed and dreamily at everything and nothing. "This is… a restaurant?" she asked.

Is she high or something? asked Shadow.

"Yup," I said, smiling through the awkwardness. "We sell food, beverages, alcoholic beverages, and um… beverages with mild THC tinctures?" I hadn't tried that last one yet. David said they tasted slightly bitter but mostly like nothing, and made you a bit relaxed and sleepy.

"How do you have power?" she asked, looking around in confusion like she'd stepped into a painting and watched the images suddenly come to life.

"Generator," I said. "Same with the running water. We're off-grid."

"And you're… a Gojid," she said, squinting at me.

Where is this conversation going? asked Shadow.

Maybe she hasn't left the fallout shelter since the bombings? Luna guessed.

That was nearly a month ago! Shadow pointed out. I thought humans got stir-crazy, being indoors for that long.

"Yup," I said, blinking in confusion. "I'm a Gojid, there's a Venlil and a Zurulian around, and everybody else is a Yotul. Except the humans, obviously. Sorry, are you, um, okay? You seem a bit out of it."

The woman's eyes stopped drifting around the room and flicked back to me. "Yeah. Sorry. I haven't really left the U.N. refugee shelters since the Battle of Earth. Just been going for walks here and there. I spotted you guys while I was walking by the seashore today. I didn't realize places like this were still open." She smiled. "Or that aliens were working and hanging out here!" she said with a sudden burst of cheerfulness and excitement.

Seemed pretty much as expected, then. "Well, welcome!" I said, and held out my paw. "I'm Chiri."

The woman shook my paw with her hand. "I'm Iris! Do you, um…" Her eyes flicked over towards Goffi, the nearest Yotul. "Could I see the menu? I'm vegan, so I figure…"

I tapped the little sign with a QR code. "Digital. Helps us translate faster. Vegan options are towards the front, but there's no judgment if you want something closer to the back. I'm lacto-vegetarian myself." She didn't even eat cheese? It felt odd, hearing that I was more predatory than a human. I paused for a moment as an idea struck. "I thought most of the vegans got recruited into the Exchange Program?"

Iris ducked her head in shame. "I got… waitlisted," she mumbled.

"Huh," I said, thinking aloud. "I really thought the U.N. was desperate for any volunteers that actually met their qualifications. What gets you halfway in?"

"Stuff," said Iris, turning beet-red. "Too eager."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

What an odd thing to say, said Luna.

Rosi tugged at my sleeve, and my quills bristled a little. Loose or not, I was still getting used to the feel of clothes, and the sensation of cloth swishing my fur around was a tactile sensation I didn't much care for. "Hey, I umm…" Rosi began, nervously. "I think I hurt David's feelings. Can you talk to him for me?"

Fight her! advised Luna.

Would you please stop suggesting violence? Shadow groaned.

"Sure thing," I said. "Iris, I'll be right back, but feel free to flag down one of the servers if you need something."

I walked into the kitchen and glanced around, but only saw Eddie. I didn't quite have the full picture of him yet, but the guy worked hard and knew his trade. Seemed cool.

"Produce fridge," he said, in response to the question I hadn't even asked yet. See? Good initiative, too.

I liked to pretend that I was supernaturally mighty every time I pulled the thick metal door to the walk-ins open, but they were just counterweighted nicely. The chill air inside made my eyes and snout flinch, but the rest of me was fine. Thick fur, and now layers of clothing. If anything, the dining area was starting to feel a bit too warm for me. I might need to get a trim soon. Something lighter and shorter, like an exterminator's cut, to fit comfortably under my Earth-standard clothes.

Ohhhh, said Luna in realization. That must be why exterminators always keep their fur trimmed short. It's to keep comfortable under the fireproof armor suits.

That's neat, but focus up, said Shadow. David needs us. Probably? He looks fine, on the whole, actually.

David was sitting on a stack of… well, I couldn't read the labels on the cardboard boxes, but something sturdy enough to hold his weight. He didn't look upset so much as lost in thought.

"You good, buddy?" I asked, tentatively. "Rosi said something about offending you, or…?"

"Huh?" David blinked, like he only just realized I was there. He did that a lot when he was brainstorming ideas. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just got backhanded pretty hard by my own preconceptions. Rosi's baby palate was more an accessory to the crime than the culprit." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You guys are all just so fucking familiar. I almost forget sometimes that you aren't just humans from a few countries over until it slaps me in the face."

"Is it weird that I kinda like being thought of as a fellow human?" I said, finding a seat near David. "I feel like my own culture's been damaged beyond repair sometimes. It's nice to have a mostly-sensible baseline for civilized omnivory to latch onto."

David tousled my fur. "Yeah, you seem more the exception than the rule, though. Like, cheese tastes delicious to you. That's pretty normal for humans. It's a straight kick to the dopamine receptors for us." He sighed. "I'm just wrapping my head around the fact that this isn't necessarily the case for the pure herbivores. Venlil and Yotuls, they seem like they love carbs and sweets way more than I was expecting. Plus even you seem to have a way higher tolerance for sour and bitter flavors than I do. Different species, different instincts about food. I just gotta get over my own cultural preconceptions and serve the people what they want."

"The customer is always right in matters of taste," I said in agreement.

"Exactly," said David. "I think I've said this before, but it's a nearly alien concept in America, serving a meal with no meat in it. Barring that, cheese, or egg, or some kinda vegan meat replacement. Look, spaghetti marinara is a totally normal dish in Italy. In New York? People will start asking where the meatballs are." He shook his head. "Same thing here, kinda. My food's not going over poorly, but everyone's a little curious where the fruits and syrups are at."

That mostly held up. "So what do we do about it?" I asked. "I've got the bar going pretty well with fruit juice and syrups, but what about the kitchen? Pastries?"

David sighed. "That's the problem. I'm not that much of a baker. And if I were, well, I mostly know classic European. It's all butter and eggs and milk and blehhh." He rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Everything I try to come up with, it keeps coming back to that. I could figure it out, or take a class or something, but I'd need time to workshop the recipes. But there isn't any time! We're open now, and I have to start planning this giant Thanksgiving feast thing for the State Department, and…" He sighed. "I just really need to hire a vegan baker."

"Vegan bakers are probably in demand everywhere on Earth, though," I pointed out. "Or doing a tidy business themselves."

"Yeah," said David. "I'd basically need to nab one who's been living under a rock for the past month before anyone else notices they're on the job market." He stood, and I followed him, though he gave me a long hug before we left the privacy of the fridge. "We'll keep our eyes peeled, but I just gotta focus on running the restaurant for now."

I kissed him just because I could. "I'll let you know if somebody stumbles into our lair."

David made his way back to the kitchen. Eddie didn't say anything, but he was starting to work up a sweat at the pace of the orders coming in. Without a word, David slipped into formation beside him, splitting the workload between them. Effortless pack tactics.

I got back to the bar just as Bylek and Goffi were getting ready to close out their tabs, and the human/Zurulian not-quite-a-couple were looking to order a single vegan strawberry milkshake with two straws. And Iris…

"Okay, can I get the soup of the day in a bread bowl and a fresh-squeezed orange juice?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, punching it into the till. "It's a popular choice. Vegan pozole verde today. Lots of fresh chiles and tomatillos and beans."

Iris nodded. "Thanks. It's been forever since I had fresh-baked bread, too."

I kept the conversation going as I squeezed her juice. "It's a bit fluffier and chewier than I'm used to, but it's quite good. My part of the Cradle used to do this dense, dark bread with a bit of a crumble to it, like--"

"Like Danish Rugbrød!" said Iris, perking up. "Oh, that's so fascinating! Yes, of course! Only a couple grains on Earth have the gluten content necessary to really fluff up and rise on their own, or develop that particular chew. It makes perfect sense that another planet might have gone in a different direction. Like how the indigenous peoples of the Americas only had maize-based breads until after the Columbian Exchange, and corn starch doesn't really hold together in quite the same way."

I blinked slowly, trying to take in this strange woman's excitement. I set her glass of orange juice in front of her. "You, uhh. You're really a big fan of bread, eh?"

"Of course I am!" Iris said, smiling. "I'm a baker!"

Witch, said Luna. David's a witch. It's the only explanation.

He's just lucky, said Shadow. Witches aren't real. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Luna.

His house survived an antimatter bomb! Luna insisted. That's not luck, that's motherfucking sorcery!

It was on the outer edge of the blast wave… Shadow mumbled without confidence.

"Iris, you're hired," I said immediately.

"Oh yay!" said Iris, beaming. "The vegan pastry place I used to work at blew up. I was looking for someplace new! When should I start?"

"Uhhh…." I glanced back at the kitchen, then back towards the door. "You know what, if you're free, just hang out until the lunch rush dies down? Then the chef will show you where the flour and stuff is. And the, ya know, paperwork." I frantically texted David that I'd found us a vegan baker. A few moments later, his hololenses dinged.

"Yusss!" David shouted.

"What's up?" asked Eddie.

"Tell ya later," said David, humming happily to himself as he threw together a salad.

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