Fool’s Masquerade
On the run from Thales and Duke Aegir’s forces, Ferdinand spots two masks in a marketplace and comes up with an idea.
Takes place during the six month Azure Gleam timeskip when Ferdinand and Hubert disappear.
Word Count: 4572
Content Warnings: brief mention of imprisonment and torture.
Sequel: The Spectre Jail Keeper
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Ferdinand von Aegir was not a vain man per se. He was not afraid to get his hands dirty, whether that meant on the front lines of a battlefield or mucking out stables alongside the hired help at the war camps. Although some aspects of his self-care slipped past notice, such as the length of his hair which had grown past his ears some time ago and was steadily creeping towards his shoulders, he was careful to ensure he was well-groomed and presentable in a manner most suitable for a noble.
The ghastly illustration nailed to the village bulletin board was not a representation of that.
“Who in their right mind would think this boorish thug looks anything like me?”
“Say that a little louder. I do not think your father’s soldiers heard you. Or perhaps you would like to alert Thales and his miscreants of our location?”
Ferdinand sighed at Hubert’s words but was still unable to tear his eyes away from the poster. The fresh parchment was emblazoned with caption “Wanted! Dead or Alive!” at the top followed by a substantial bounty being offered. A list of offences the nefarious duo had committed were scrawled at the bottom.
There were no names on the poster. They had been at least that successful at keeping themselves anonymous. Only two rough sketches gave any clue as to the identities of the unruly “bandits” that had been wrecking havoc along Adrestia’s eastern coast for the last month. It was the portrait of the man on the left - if what looked to be a child’s drawing of an ogre with scraggly, shoulder-length red hair could even be called a portrait - that had brought about Ferdinand’s state of dismay.
“The nose is completely wrong! And by the goddess, what have they done to my chin! This amateurish drawing is downright insulting depiction of my noble splendor! It is as if they slapped red hair on a mule and declared that a faithful portrayal of their fugitive.”
“Ferdinand, that is a good thing. We don’t want to be recognized!” Hubert hissed through his clenched teeth. He tugged on the on hood of the grey cloak he was wearing to ensure it covered his face.
Ferdinand followed suit with his own cloak, making sure no strand of hair slipped out from the hood. The long red hair was the only thing the wanted poster seemed to have gotten partially right.
“The fact that the drawings are even this accurate is indeed troubling.”
“Accurate?” Ferdinand choked, “In what world are these accurate?”
“Lower you voice!” Hubert glared, “Need I remind you we are still in Aegir territory. It would be of little difficulty for someone to recognize either of us.”
The village was just north of Boramas. The place was moderately populated, known mostly for its humble, yet well-respected market. The village was peaceful at the moment, only mildly touched by the war (a stark contrast to the massacres that had been happening to the north-western towns by the Faerghus border). It was mid-afternoon. Farmers with wagons of produce set up tables in the village square at dawn and were currently busy selling their wares. A sprinkling a artisans dotted the marketplace as well, their hand-crafted trinkets arranged in manner to draw the attention of any wealthy merchants that were passing through on their way to either Enbarr or Boramas. Nobody had cast a second glance at either Ferdinand or Hubert since their arrival.
“Besides,” a wry smirk graced Hubert’s face as he thumbed the bottom of the poster, “Their depiction of myself bears at least a passing resemblance.”
Ferdinand looked from the portrait on the right - of what appeared to be a ghoul with spidery, stick limbs – back to his partner and frowned. This was far from the first time he had heard Hubert use such self-deprecating descriptions of himself.
Before Ferdinand could protest Hubert’s self-assessment, the mage had turned away from the poster. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled list, and handed it to Ferdinand.
“These are the provisions we will need. Hopefully they will last us long enough to reach Hrym. We should not linger here. And do try not to get swindled this time. We do not have the coin to spare.”
“That happened one time!” Ferdinand bristled, snatching the paper from Hubert. He scanned the scrawled list of items: dried fruit, bread, vulneraries, bandages, the usual.
“Are you going to look for a new tome?” Ferdinand asked. The one Hubert had been using the last few weeks was a frayed, decaying lump of torn pages that he had to restitch together every night in a hopeless attempt to prolong its use. The pages were shrivelled and stained a deep violet. The same deep violet stains that Ferdinand knew were gradually snaking their way up Hubert’s wrists from repeatedly casting dark magic with a damaged catalyst.
Hubert winced. “I doubt I will find one here. Perhaps one of the blacksmiths will have some daggers that may be of use. I’m down to my last two since our last excursion. And I’m sure you could use a more suitable weapon as well.”
Hubert nodded towards the sword sheathed by Ferdinand’s left hip. It was a rusted, dull, dented thing, pilfered from a fallen enemy. After his lance had been shattered by the axe of a great knight, Ferdinand had to make do with what he could scavenge.
“Very well. I shall procure the supplies and we will meet at the agreed spot in an hour.”
Hubert nodded and made his way towards the blacksmith.
Ferdinand, list in hand, headed towards the marketplace.
It was hard to believe it had been nearly four months since everything had fallen apart. Edelgard’s dream of a progressive empire built on merit rather than crests, Ferdinand’s own hopes of his part in that new world.
Three months since the two of them - Ferdinand dragging his own exhausted, battered body while cradling a barely conscious Hubert in his arms – had clawed their way out of the prison they were being held.
Two months since Ferdinand had barely managed to talk Hubert down from making a suicide charge at the capital.
And one month since the two of them had set out together on their new mission together: to sabotage and obstruct Duke Aegir’s rule over the Empire as much as possible.
Their plan had started small: barricading common roads the Imperial army was travelling and ambushing small military patrols. It was not long before their activities expanded to hijacking Imperial army supply caravans and redirecting the stollen goods to impoverished commoners, setting fire to Duke Aegir’s naval fleets, and robbing the armories of nearby military camps. As much as possible, they ensured that only armed soldiers were to be attacked and that no merchants or other commoners were harmed during their incursions. Just the other night, the two of them had snuck into an Imperial camp and had released a dozen prized war horses from their stables.
Resupplying was always risky. They pilfered what they could from the enemy camps they raided, but for every incident that they managed to steal a decent number of supplies, there would be times when they would have to quickly abandon their camp and provisions in order to slip away from the bounty hunters that had come too close to finding them. They stuck to mid-size villages when the need to restock provisions arose. Places small and isolated enough that they would not be recognized by members of the nobility or military, but large enough that they did not stand out.
Finding the listed provisions was simple enough. The food was acquired quickly. The medical supplies took longer as the vendor had insisted on selling vulneraries for a price well above their regular value, claiming the war was to blame for supply chain issues and the rising cost. Ferdinand was eventually able to haggle the vendor down to a still costly, but more reasonable price. Items in hand, Ferdinand was about to make his way back to the meeting spot when a colourful glint caught his eye.
It was coming from one of the artisan’s tables. A collection of what appeared to be costume pieces were arranged on the table. Colourful hats tipped with feathers, capes made of simple cotton but detailed with elaborate embroidery. They were the types of items that would not be out of place being sold by one of the vendors outside an opera house. Costume pieces intended to mirror those that were seen by the characters on stage.
In the small farming village, they seem woefully out of place. Their fine craftsmanship ignored. The elderly vendor at the table gave Ferdinand a bright, hopeful smile when he approached.
It was a set of masks that had caught Ferdinand’s attention. Each depicted the face of a bird. They were decorated in sequins and feathers with sharp beaks protruding from the lower halves of the masks. The type of mask that was common at a masquerade ball. The masks were of contrasting colours and designs. One was an eagle, adorned with sequins and plumage of warm golds and reds; while the other was intended to be a crow, tones of sleek black and hints of midnight blue.
However, it was the gemstones circling the eyes of the masks that drew Ferdinand’s eye. The eagle mask had gems of bright amber while the crow mask carried those of cool amethyst.
Ferdinand delicately ran his thumb across the amethyst jewels of the crow mask. Staring at the masks mesmerized, he recalled a story he had heard in his youth.
It was one of his warmest childhood memories. Curled up in bed, warm blankets cocooned around him, Ferdinand would listen to the fables his mother would read to him of brave knights on daring adventures. Stories that he had less time to enjoy as he got older and his childish daydreaming (as his father had called it) was replaced with strict lessons on etiquette and government.
There was one story in particular that differed from many of the other tales of chivalry. It was about a noble who was driven from his home by a tyrannical lord and was forced to go into hiding. The lord of the land had treated his subjects with cruelty: imposing taxes that were unbearably high, demanding food that the commoners were unable to provide and leaving them starve. Seeing how the people of the land suffered, the noble emerged from hiding, cloaked in a new disguise and identity, and vowed to help the common folk. The masked, exiled noble stole from the corrupted wealthy who were profiting from the tyrant’s bloodthirsty reign and gave the stollen riches and supplies to the needy. He became a nightmare to those that supported the tyrant, but a symbol of hope for the people who had suffered under the tyrant’s rule.
“Caught your attention, have they?”
Ferdinand jolted at the vendor’s voice. The crow mask was still in his hand. The gemstones on the masks, the contrasting colours. They could not have been a better fit.
“Why yes,” Ferdinand replied, “How much for these fine pieces?”
The vendor gave him the price. Ferdinand frowned. He still had some coin left after purchasing the required provisions, but the two masks would consume what little he had remaining. He knew Hubert would be upset if he spent their meagre coin on something so frivolous.
Yet Ferdinand could not bring himself to place the mask back on the table. Instead, an idea formed in his head. One that caused him to smile.
“Here you are!” Ferdinand handed the vendor the coin, “I shall take the set.”
The vendor smiled and thanked Ferdinand for the purchase. The masks were carefully wrapped in cloth and handed back to Ferdinand. Bidding the vendor a good day and tucking the wrapped masks into his cloak, he headed towards the meeting spot with a little extra skip in his step.
The meeting spot was in a wooded area just outside the village. Ferdinand scanned the surroundings but could see no one else there. He placed the rucksack full of provisions on the ground and waited for Hubert.
“You’re late.”
Ferdinand jumped at Hubert’s voice. Even after months of travelling together, he still could not get used to his companion’s uncanny ability to sneak up on him.
Hubert slipped from the shadows, his cloak still curled tightly around him, citrine eyes scanning the perimeter for anyone who might have trailed them. He handed a freshly forged lance to Ferdinand.
“Steel. Nothing special, but it should be an improvement over that dented scrap of iron you’ve been making do with.”
“Thank you,” said Ferdinand, accepting the weapon. The craftsmanship of the lance was simple, but sturdy. Hubert had chosen well.
“Did you have any luck finding a new tome?”
Hubert shook his head. “Tomes aren’t widely available outside the larger metropolises. I will have to chance sneaking into Enbarr or Boramas to acquire one. Or hope the next camp we raid has mage among them. Did you find all the supplies we need?”
“Yes!” Ferdinand smiled and handed his rucksack to Hubert. “And you will be happy to know that I was able to outmaneuver a merchant trying to sell me overpriced vulneraries.”
Hubert tilted his head to the side and stared at something on Ferdinand. “And what is that?”
Ferdinand could feel a blush spreading across his face when he realized what had caught Hubert’s attention. The cloth packet holding the masks had poked its way out from under Ferdinand’s coat as they were exchanging purchases.
“Well…that is…uh.”
Hubert continued to stare at him, expression unchanging. Suddenly Ferdinand’s plan seemed incredibly silly. He sighed and carefully unwrapped the eagle and crow masks to show to Hubert. The other man’s brow creased with confusion.
“Ferdinand, what are those?”
“A matching set of finely-crafted decorative masks, of course!”
“Obviously,” Hubert sighed, “And you felt compelled to purchase these…why? You are aware that our coin is limited.”
“Listen…just hear me out!” Ferdinand sputtered, feeling the blush on his face ignite into a full crimson. He had hoped he would have had at least a little time to think of how to articulate his idea to Hubert.
“I saw these at the market, and they reminded me of an old story.” With far less grace than he had been hoping, Ferdinand recounted the fable of the outlaw noble with a heart of gold. He knew he stumbled over some parts of the story and skipped ahead a couple times in his eagerness to describe some of the masked nobleman’s escapades. A myriad of emotions crossed Hubert’s face, from confusion to exasperation. His expression darkened into something Ferdinand could not quite identify as he reached the end of the story.
“As you can see, the masked nobleman’s tale is not so different from our own and I thought we could--”
“No.”
Ferdinand blinked at the blunt response.
“Pardon?”
“Ferdinand, this is not one of your operas!”
“I am well aware of that! You do not even know what my plan is yet.”
“You wish to galavant around is a garish disguise and draw the attention of the people who would wish nothing more than to see your head on a pike!” Hubert’s tone clipped and even; however, his face was twisted with barely concealed rage.
Ferdinand unconsciously recoiled a half-step back. It had been some time since he had seen Hubert this furious. He had expected annoyance from the man, both from the money spent of the masks as well as the overall theatrics of the plan. Ferdinand had not anticipated this much of a reaction.
The mage paced back and forth, kicking a rock that was in his path. “Of all the naive, imbecilic ways to end up in an early grave…”
“I did not think my plan you offend you so much.”
“Offend!” Hubert snapped. He choked down a couple calming breaths before continuing to speak, “What you suggest is tantamount to throwing yourself into the jaws of a starving beast! And for what? To live out a juvenile fantasy concocted by a mediocre fairy tale?”
Ferdinand stiffened, the red in his face shifting from embarrassment to anger.
“That is a little dramatic. Our actions would not differ much from what we are currently doing.”
“Yes, no different at all,” said Hubert, rolling his eyes and still pacing, “Except for the part where our anonymity is stripped away and Thales, as well as your father, comes bearing down on us with the executioner’s blade.”
“Well…that is what the masks are for!”
Hubert stopped pacing and turned to stare at him, his glare a piercing blade.
“Those wanted signs, crude as their depictions were, already show that we are being far too reckless. Based on the crimes they had listed, it would appear that the duke’s soldiers have started connecting together the string of misfortunes that have befallen them over the last month. One more slip on our part and our names will be joining the next set of bounty notices.”
“If our identities are that close to being compromised, all the more reason we should craft new ones. A misdirection that should keep them occupied.”
“What we should be doing is laying low for the upcoming weeks,” Hubert hissed, “At least until the attention of the duke’s forces is diverted elsewhere.”
“And what of the people who need aid now? Not to mention that the duke, my father,” an extra layer of venom coated Ferdinand’s words, “will have time to resupply and reorganize, undoing the little we have managed to accomplish!”
“Sabotage, with our limited resources, relies on being covert. You do understand what that means?
“We have been at this for a month and it seems we have hardly made any difference!”
“Need I remind you that this was all your idea!”
“I know that. It is just…” Ferdinand trailed off, tracing the amethyst gems in the crow mask, “I feel we could be doing so much more. I know what has been happening in the empire since my father took over has been weighing heavy on you as well.”
A week prior, the two of them had passed through a hamlet in northern Fenja territory. Every person in the village was dead. Their faces and bodies frozen in agony from choking to death on their own bile. The town well had been poisoned for some unknown reason. Ferdinand still felt a chill remembering the way Hubert’s eyes blazed as he slapped the waterskin, that Ferdinand had been attempting to refill at the town well, from his hands. The mage had tried to maintain a veneer of calm, but Ferdinand had not missed the near-imperceptible way Hubert’s shoulders shook as he crouched to inspect each of the corpses.
Ferdinand took a breath and continued.
“If we were to act more openly in our defiance, we could really inspire the people. Hope is what the people need more than anything right now. We could be that inspiration. To show them that there are still people in Adrestia that care about their well-being and will fight for what is right and just! We may be stripped of our titles and hunted like common criminals, but we are still nobles and it is our duty to protect Adrestia and its people.”
Hubert threw his hands up in the air, growling, “Your incessant need to cling to your foolishly idealistic definition of nobility will only lead to doom, and I will not lose y—”
Hubert cut himself off. He slumped down on a nearby rock, face pressed into one of his hands as he let out of series of sharp, jagged breaths. The other hand rested on his lap, clenched.
The anger Ferdinand had felt bubbling in his chest eased, softening as he watched the other man. Ever since starting their sabotage efforts, Hubert had been nearly silent regarding what had happened to Edelgard and the collapse of her vision of the empire. Ferdinand himself had been at Arianrhod when everything had gone wrong. The inhuman shriek that had rained across the battlefield from the emperor, warped into a nearly unrecognizable beast, still haunted his nightmares.
Nor had the two of them spoken of their subsequent imprisonment and torture at the hands of those that had usurped the empire. Ferdinand fought off an icy tendril of fear at the memory of the dank walls, the rusted chains, the knives digging into his skin, the screams both of them had made as their captors sneered…
On several occasions, Ferdinand had tried to broach both topics, but Hubert was quick to change the direction of the conversation.
Ferdinand moved towards him with careful steps, the same ones he would use to avoid startling an easily spooked horse.
“Hubert…” Ferdinand spoke softly, taking a seat beside him and resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder, “I know you still blame yourself, but what happened to Edelgard is not your fault. And I know she is not lost to us. We will get her back.”
Hubert said nothing. His face still buried in one of his hands. Ferdinand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“And you will not lose me either. I give you my word.”
Hubert’s laugh was sharp and cold, but he still kept his gaze averted from Ferdinand.
“And let me guess. You swear to uphold that vow on your noble lineage. As if your very name could possibly shield you from the ensuring maelstrom threatening to engulf us.”
“Then let me make this vow to you personally,” Ferdinand grasped Hubert’s hand, the one that lay clenched on his lap, “You are the dearest person I have in my life right now and I swear to you that I will not leave your side.”
Hubert was silent for what felt like an eternity. Ferdinand feared he had overstepped and was about to remove his hand from Hubert’s.
Eventually, Hubert let out a deep sigh, but squeezed Ferdinand’s hand back.
“As gallant and stubborn as always,” Hubert muttered, the sharp edges of his tone softening, “I don’t suppose there is any way of talking you out of this foolish endeavour? Very well…”
Hubert released Ferdinand’s hand and stood. Ferdinand felt a small pang of disappointment from the lost physical contact, but it faded when Hubert turned to him with a small smile.
“I have many reservations about this plan of yours, but you did raise a valid point. With our current activities, it will not be long before we are identified as the bandits the duke’s forces are hunting. But perhaps an alias would provide enough of a misdirection to keep them distracted from the truth. At least for a short time.”
“I knew you would see my way thinking!”
“Be that as it may,” Hubert cut in, tone sharp once more, “This is not an invitation to throw away every precaution we have taken. Any raids will be well-planned and prepared. And there will be absolutely no unnecessary heroics.”
Ferdinand frowned, “Surely you know more than anyone how fast even the most well-thought-out battle plan can change?”
“There is the necessary adaptability that is required to survive an ever-changing battlefield, and then there is impulsively throwing yourself into danger with the least bit of discretion. I urge you to learn the difference between the two.”
“Yes, yes,” said Ferdinand, barely restraining the urge to roll his eyes, “I am not so simple-minded as to charge into the heart of enemy territory with no sense of tactical foresight. But this plan…you think it could work?”
“Yes,” Hubert answered after a short pause, “It will take some time to prepare. We will need to be strategic about what locations we attack. We want word of our actions under this masquerade spread, but not so quickly that it could lead us to our capture. But I believe we may be able to bring this fable of yours to life. I can only assume that you have already selected our fictitious identities, correct?”
“Absolutely!” beamed Ferdinand, “We shall be known as the Twin Jewels of the Empire! Here to free Adrestria from tyranny and bring hope to the people!”
Hubert gaped at him.
“I’m sorry. The what?”
“Well,” Ferdinand shifted, suddenly having a hard time maintaining eye contact with Hubert, “I think it is a fine name for two who shine as brilliantly as ourselves. I, with lance in hand, charging our foes with blazing righteousness. You, elegant as the moonlight, dancing between shadows and striking our enemies with unparalleled magic!”
Hubert ducked his head, but Ferdinand could see the touch of colour spreading across his cheeks.
“Absurd. And you referred to me as being dramatic,” Hubert muttered, “Very well, which mask do you intend for me to wear?”
“Why the crow mask of course,” Ferdinand grinned and handed him the aforementioned mask, “I thought the darker colours would suit you quite nicely.”
Hubert carefully held masked. He traced his gloved fingers across the obsidian sequins, over the dark plumage, and around the amethyst gems.
“An omen of death. How fitting.”
“Must you be so morose about everything?”
Despite his comment, Hubert had a small smile as he inspected the costume piece. With a smirk and a small shake of his head, he carefully placed the mask on his face and tied it in place. It fell across his eyes, covering the top half of his face, and ending with the sharp peak of the mask’s beak. The dark feathers that dusted the top of the mask blended perfectly with Hubert’s bangs. Ebony sequins glittered in the sun and the glimmer of the amethyst stones were even more enthralling than when Ferdinand had first seen the masks at the marketplace. Citrine eyes stared at him through the mask.
“So…” said Hubert with a hint of mirth, “How do I look?”
“As dashing as any noble rogue to grace the stage of even the grandest of operas.”
Hubert ducked his head again at Ferdinand’s comment. Even with the mask, Ferdinand can spot a blush creeping across more of Hubert’s face.
“Well, I suppose I should try mine on now.”
Ferdinand quickly looked over his own mask. The design was very similar to Hubert’s, albeit intended the mirror the appearance of an eagle rather than a crow. The sequins and feathers were of warm golds and reds instead, the gems a deep amber.
Fumbling, Ferdinand quickly balanced his own mask on the bridge of his nose and reached behind his head to tied and ribbons needed to secure it in place. He turned to Hubert for his opinion.
“Your thoughts?”
A laugh burst from Hubert’s chest; however, it was not one of the sardonic cackles he let out when conjuring dark spikes to skewer his enemies with. It was a rare, genuine laugh. A laugh Ferdinand had only heard from Hubert a handful of times. One that Ferdinand cherished dearly. It was not long before Ferdinand himself joined the laughter.
“Like a fool,” Hubert replied warmly, “But a fool I want at my side, nonetheless. Well then, I assume you already have something planned for our first excursion as the Twin Jewels. I imagine there is much that we will need to prepare.”
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How Do You Like Your Turkey? Home-Cooked or Rocket-Launched?
It’s Thanksgiving, which means that you’re probably thinking about food right now. And here at NASA, we have to think about food very seriously when we explore space!
Astronauts Need to Eat, Too!
Like for you on Earth, nutrition plays a key role in maintaining the health and optimal performance of the astronauts. The Space Food Systems team is required to meet the nutritional needs of each crew member while adhering to the requirements of limited storage space, limited preparation options, and the difficulties of eating without gravity.
Good food is necessary being comfortable on a mission a long way from home — especially for crewmembers who are on board for many months at a time. It’s important that the astronauts like the food they’re eating everyday, even given the preparation constraints!
Astronaut Food Has Not Always Been Appetizing
The early space programs were groundbreaking in a lot of ways — but not when it came to food. Like today, crumbs had to be prevented from scattering in microgravity and interfering with the instruments. Mercury astronauts had to endure bite-sized cubes, freeze-dried powders, and semi-liquids stuffed into aluminum tubes. The freeze-dried food were hard to rehydrate, squeezing the tubes was understandable unappetizing, and the food was generally considered to be, like spaceflight, a test of endurance.
However, over the years, packaging improved, which in turn enhanced food quality and choices. The Apollo astronauts were the first to have hot water, which made rehydrating foods easier and improved the food’s taste. And even the Space Shuttle astronauts had opportunities to design their own menus and choose foods commercially available on grocery store shelves.
The Wonders of Modern Space Food
Nowadays, astronauts on the International Space Station have the opportunity to sample a variety of foods and beverages prepared by the Space Food Systems team and decide which ones they prefer. They can add water to rehydratable products or eat products that are ready to eat off the shelf.
All the cooking and preparation has been done for them ahead of time because 1) they don’t have room for a kitchen to cook on the space station 2) they don’t have time to cook! The crewmembers are extremely occupied with station maintenance as well as scientific research on board, so meal times have to be streamlined as much as possible.
Instead of going grocery shopping, bulk overwrap bags (BOBs!) are packed into cargo transfer bags for delivery to the space station. Meal based packaging allows the astronauts to have entrees, side dishes, snacks, and desserts to choose from.
Taste in Space
The perception of taste changes in space. In microgravity, astronauts experience a fluid shift in their bodies, so the sensation is similar to eating with a headcold. The taste is muted so crewmembers prefer spicy foods or food with condiments to enhance the flavor.
We Can’t Buy Groceries, But We Can Grow Food!
Growing plants aboard the space station provides a unique opportunity to study how plants adapt to microgravity. Plants may serve as a food source for long term missions, so it’s critical to understand how spaceflight affects plant growth. Plus, having fresh food available in space can have a positive impact on astronauts’ moods!
Since 2002, the Lada greenhouse has been used to perform almost continuous plant growth experiments on the station. We have grown a vast variety of plants, including thale cress, swiss chard, cabbage, lettuce, and mizuna.
And in 2015, Expedition 44 members became the first American astronauts to eat plants grown in space when they munched on their harvest of Red Romaine.
Earthlings Can Eat Space Food, Too
To give you a clear idea of how diverse the selection is for astronauts on board the space station, two earthlings gave the astronaut menu a try for a full week. Besides mentioning once that hot sauce was needed, they fared pretty well! (The shrimp cocktail was a favorite.)
Space Technology for Food on Earth
Not only has our space food improved, but so has our ability measure food production on Earth. Weather that is too dry, too wet, too hot, or too cool can strongly affect a farmer’s ability to grow crops. We collaborated with the United States Agency for International Development to create a system for crop yield prediction based on satellite data: the GEOGLAM Crop Monitor for Early Warning.
This map measures the health, or “greenness” of vegetation based on how much red or near-infrared light the leaves reflect. Healthy vegetation reflects more infrared light and less visible light than stressed vegetation. As you can see from the map, a severe drought spread across southern Mexico to Panama in June to August of this year.
The Crop Monitor compiles different types of crop condition indicators — such as temperature, precipitation, and soil moisture — and shares them with 14 national and international partners to inform relief efforts.
Thanksgiving in Space
Space food has certainly come a long way from semi-liquids squeezed into aluminum tubes! This year, Expedition 57 crewmembers Commander Alexander Gerst and Flight Engineer Serena M. Auñón-Chancellor are looking forward to enjoying a Thanksgiving meal that probably sounds pretty familiar to you: turkey, stuffing, candied yams, and even spicy pound cakes!
Hungry for More?
If you can’t get enough of space food, tune into this episode of “Houston, We Have a Podcast” and explore the delicious science of astronaut mealtime with Takiyah Sirmons.
And whether you’re eating like a king or an astronaut, we wish everybody a happy and safe Thanksgiving!
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