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canyouhearthelight · 5 years

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The Miys, Ch. 26

I know the last few chapters have posted earlier in the day, but I’m excited I at least got this up on the right day. Yay!!

Life has been going on over here, and it keeps happening... Which is a hazard of living, right? Better than the alternative.

As always, feedback is a glass of wine and dark chocolate for me (which I love, sincerely), so please leave any feedback you may have!

After a mild panic, the Council was able to calm down everyone who heard Tyche’s exclamation of poisoned food. Grumbles were still plainly audible, but any rioting had been averted for the moment. We had no choice but to clarify and explain what we suspected, but begged everyone not to let the information out until an official statement had been released. Huynh had suggested blocking everyone’s communications access, but the idea was – thankfully – shot down immediately.

Once all the food and drinks were tested, Miys was able to determine that anything not sealed had been tampered with. It was no surprise that nearly everyone on Level One had traces of the drug in their systems, the only exclusions being Derek and Maverick. Derek, I knew all too well, had severe aversions to food textures and mainly lived on what amounted to granola bars and room temperature bottled water, so the fact that he didn’t have any hydrocodone in his system was almost expected and confirmed that it was only being put in the food.

I motioned for Maverick to sit down with me and Antoine. After some debate on what amounted to a criminal investigation, Eino had pointed out that I had the most experience of the people present when it came to interacting with anyone on the autistic spectrum. Antoine was with me in his capacity as a companion, as he would be the least threatening back up I could have with me while still being more than capable of intervening if it became necessary.

“What did the short you say about poison?” Maverick asked almost immediately, eyes wide with mild panic.

“Someone put Vicodin in most of the food and drinks,” I explained. I didn’t see any point in sugar coating it, having noticed in the past couple of days that Maverick was nearly impossible at picking up on subtlety. “Most of us have had symptoms, and Miys tested us. They say the majority of us have enough in our blood to affect us. You don’t, and I need you to explain why.”

He relaxed immediately, to my shock. “Is that all? I’ve only had bottled water and black coffee since I came up here,” he shrugged like it was no major deal.

Antoine’s eyebrows furrowed. “You are saying that, in nearly forty-eight hours, you have not eaten a single thing?”

“Well, yeah,” came the response, as though it should be obvious. “I didn’t like any of the food that was brought in, so I didn’t eat. I’ve been taking supplements!” he declared defensively as I started scowling when I found out he hadn’t eaten. “It happens, like, a lot, so I always carry them with me just in case.” He took the bottle out of his jacket and rattled them for emphasis before handing them to me.

A glance at the label gave me the impression that they were just robust multivitamins. I handed them to Antoine, knowing he would have a better idea of what he was looking at. He nodded and confirmed. “They’re just vitamins, but these are for geriatric patients?”

With a shrug, Maverick stated matter-of-factly, “Those are designed for people who don’t eat enough to meet their basic requirements. Usually, yeah, it’s old people, but I end up missing meals pretty frequently, so those are the best ones. That’s what the doctor told me back on Earth.”

To say I was horrified was a dramatic understatement. How long had he been just skipping meals because he had what sounded like food aversions? “Maverick. Jake. You can just tell me what you like, and I’ll make sure we have food for you. I do it all the time for Derek, and for his friend Sam. Hell, I do it for anyone just about. You don’t have to starve yourself and live on multivitamins and water.”

“Nah, I know I’m being a pain in the ass about food. It’s fine, really. But please top calling me Jake. It’s legally Maverick. I changed it. I earned the name Maverick.”

I was so confused. “But you introduced yourself as Jake?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Terran Defense never updated my records, so they are all under that name. I wanted you to be able to find them. But it’s not my name.”

Oh. I was starting to get angry, not at him, but at the people who made him so nonchalant at the sheer level of fuckery people had used in regard to him in the past.

“Can you go get Derek?” I asked Antoine quietly before looking back at the pilot on the opposite side of the table. “You aren’t being a pain in the ass. I believe that you’ve been told that for a very long time, but that doesn’t make it true, and it certainly doesn’t make it right. I am the one who will be deciding what food is brought up from now on, and Miys will be testing it. So, if I say you can ask me for whatever you will actually eat, no one else gets a say in that. Does that make sense?”

“Whatever,” he grunted.

I was saved by the arrival of Antoine and Derek. “Maverick Okima, I would like to formally introduce to Derek ‘That Guy’ Okafor, scourge of sysadmins everywhere. Derek, I am trying to convince Maverick that it’s okay to ask for different food if he doesn’t like what we are bringing in.” I focused on using Maverick’s own term – don’t like – rather than calling it a food aversion, mainly because I wasn’t sure he had ever had the difference explained to him from what few clues I was able to pick up.

<Sophia’s okay> Derek signed. <She likes feeding us food we like. She says if we don’t like it, there isn’t a point in having food to begin with.>

Maverick looked very confused. “My father said something like that before he died. It’s a very Japanese thing to say.”

I pointed at my face. “Cajun, among other things. I do not believe in ‘eating to live’. In my family, we live to eat. The short me, as you call her, is gluten intolerant, some of my family doesn’t like spicy food, I love spicy food, so does Antoine. I still manage to make one meal a week for all of us, cooked by hand I might add, and try to include Derek as much as possible when he feels up to.”

Derek snapped to get Mavericks attention before adding, <No spicy, no sour, no squishy.>

“He likes food with firmer textures,” I clarified on the ‘squishy’ comment. “Nothing mushy, or creamy, no cake, ice cream, or gelatin, that kind of thing.”

“Don’t you get mad that they’re picky?” Maverick asked, still suspicious.

I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not. It’s a challenge, and if they don’t like it, that’s a failure on my part, not theirs.”

“She makes very good turkey,” Antoine mused before smirking. “Although her sister makes amazing doughnuts.”

<The mushy fish was gross.> Derek wrinkled his nose in an exaggerated fashion.

I just rolled my eyes. “I literally told you that you wouldn’t like it. I don’t like poached fish because of the texture.”

That seemed to be the comment that Maverick needed to hear. “Wait. You cooked something you don’t even like for someone else, because they wanted it?”

“Kind of?” I squeaked uncertainly. “Arantxa over there. She didn’t ask for it, but as a holiday gift from me to her, I learned how to make one of her native dishes. I had no clue that it was poached fish when I made that decision. But she mentioned it the day I met her, and also that she didn’t know how to make it….” I trailed off and shrugged. “Personally, I like my fish seared, grilled, baked, or sashimi. Poached is just… too weird for me.”

Antoine nodded very seriously. “It was very good, as a person who does like poached fish.”

“Rants seemed to like it,” I shrugged again. “All that mattered.”

“So, if I wanted mochi, because I didn’t get any the first time, that would be okay?” Maverick asked tentatively. “Even red bean mochi?”

I moaned, “Oh my gosh, absolutely yes. If there were any red bean mochi last time, I am sorry to say I didn’t get any. You and I can just hog them all.”

<Hide them from Zach,> Derek joked. <I think he ate most of the gross dumplings last time.>

“Heathen,” I muttered jokingly. It was really no surprise that Derek didn’t like mochi. Glutenous foods definitely fell in the category of ‘squishy’. I patted Maverick on the arm gently. “Okay, I’m pretty convinced you didn’t drug the food, mostly because you’re a terrible liar, which is something to be proud of. On the food thing, please just make me a list of foods you like, or at least a list of stuff that makes you not like certain foods, and I will happily make sure to take that into account. Real quick, though, I’m about to put in the request for tomorrow, so other than mochi, what do you want? Try to give me as many things as you can think of off the top of your head, because I want to be sure it’s in the system.”

“Miso soup, for sure. Boiled eggs? Scrambled eggs are weird, but I don’t know if the consoles can do boiled eggs, and I never asked. Savory crepes are good, though. Ooo! Pizzza! I love pizza, especially anchovy. I know a lot of people think it’s gross, but it’s really good, I swear. Fried pies are good, too.”

“So, strongly flavored, savory and/or salty dishes. Got it,” I murmured as I made a note in my data screen. I flicked my wrist absent-mindedly to dismiss it before musing “You probably would have liked the bacalao al pil pil.”

“Is that the mushy fish thing?” he asked skeptically.

“Yep.”

“Nope. I can’t do mushy fish. Mushy means it isn’t cooked right, which means I’ll get sick.”

I chuckled. “I totally agree. The good news is, at least now I have someone other than Tyche to share pizza with!”

“No one else likes pizza!?” he gasped. “No way! That’s sacrilege!”

“Oh, tons of people like pizza,” I assured him. “But Tyche is the only other person I met who likes anchovy pizza.”

“They’re stupid. It’s awesome!”

I shot him a look. “Please don’t call people stupid because they don’t agree with you. It’s rude, and I can’t stand rude people.” It was a slight exaggeration; I had a pretty flexible definition of what was and wasn’t rude, but calling someone names because they disagree with you definitely fell firmly in the rude category. “A lot of people don’t like fish, or can’t have too much salt, or just don’t do well with really strong flavored foods.” I nodded toward Derek, who flipped Maverick the bird.

“Okay, okay,” he apologized. “That was wrong of me. I didn’t think of that. Still, it’s really good.”

“Well, you have two other people to eat it with now,” I smiled.

Rather than celebrating, Maverick looked like he just realized something. “Wait. Who is Tyche?”

“My sister.”

“You – Wait. That’s short you?”

“Yes, and for the love of whatever your favorite body part is, do not call her that to her face.”

“Noted,” he nodded seriously and gulped. “She’s scary. Like, scarier than you, scary.”

<Be nice. They own the cat.> Derek warned him, slapping him lightly on the arm.

“I like Mac,” he considered. “I guess that makes you less scary. I’m still pretty sure your sister could kill me, though.”

By this point, Antoine looked completely confused. “Why is everyone afraid of Tyche? I don’t understand.”

<Why aren’t you afraid of her?> Derek rebutted.

I shot Antoine a dirty look before he could reply. “I have absolutely zero desire to hear whatever tooth-rotting, fluffy nonsense is about to come out of your mouth,” I told him flatly. The last thing I wanted was him to accidentally de-fang my sister’s well-earned reputation.

He balked slightly before straightening his shoulders. “Fine. I will let them be afraid of her. I was just going to say I’m not afraid of her because I am her partner, just like you are her sister. And Maverick has three other people to eat the anchovy pizza with.” He pointed to himself. “You never asked me, Sophia. Do you really think Tyche would not have me try it?”

I held my hands up placatingly. “Fair, fair. I didn’t know you had tried it since the last time I mentioned it.” I turned back to Maverick. “So, now that we’ve established your alibi - can’t consume drugs when you aren’t consuming anything at all - I’ll have Grey and probably Pranav fact-check it, just to completely rule you out as a suspect, okay?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled in what sounded like relief. “Do you think it will take long? I have to pilot the ship to Meenie pretty soon, and I don’t know if they’ll let me while they’re doing all that?”

“That’s honestly Xiomara’s call, since we decided the flight crew fall under her jurisdiction. It shouldn’t take more than a day, but I understand that we only have a couple hours before we’re done at Eenie, right?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Can you check with Councillor Kalloe, please?” he begged. “I don’t want my flight privileges revoked.”

“You bet. Antoine, are we done here?”

He gestured affirmatively. “I don’t know what else we can do right now, so yeah, I would say we are done. You,” he pointed sternly at Maverick, “will eat. I will send Noah for the food myself. It is not safe for you to do something as important as piloting a ship when you have been starving yourself, but I also do not want to make you sick. You said you like miso soup, yes?” When Maverick nodded, Antoine stood. “I will ask our host to get miso soup, and I will watch you eat two hundred milliliters before you pilot. Sophia, if you could relay this to Councillor Kalloe when you speak to her, please?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

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