Attention: ALL
Subject: Evening Menu
Entrees: Tofu or black bean burger with caramelized onion
Sides: Fried potatoes and pickles, tomato salad
*Dessert* Frozen yogurt with fresh strawberry compote
The night before the holiday weekend began, I skipped sleep. The entertainment department hardly needed my help, especially with V micromanaging them, so I spent all night checking the precise order that dishes needed to be defrosted and cooked. Then I zoned out starting fresh prep and tweaking toppings. After that, while I was confident I’d already done this part, I double checked Chef’s notes about allergies and sensitivities to make sure I hadn’t overlooked any known triggers that could ruin someone’s experience.
I hadn’t missed anything, and it felt like winning. I didn’t know how Chef dealt with making all these decisions for us every single day, but so far I could manage it well enough too, at least in the short term. I let the feeling fill me up, warming me from the outside like toasted bread.
I was Lane, lunar lunch lady and meeter of needs, body and soul.
Ten minutes before breakfast service started, Halle dragged me away from my tablet to walk through the hallways with her and V. “Entertainment’s done way more than y’all asked, and you’ve got to see this for yourself.”
The theme I’d proposed, which V agreed suited perfectly, was “From Earth to space.” I figured there’d be Earth areas and spacey areas, and some creative range in between. Instead, entertainment had staged progressive decorations all through the trust, changing throughout the day in every department, main corridor, and bathrooms.
My senses were overloaded the moment I stepped out of the kitchen, so it took me a minute to break down what I saw.
The cafeteria was Earth, like a sunny meadow. My boots scuffed over a narrow strip of grassy turf, and the tables were arranged in a giant arc around the serving line, with extra tables nearby for our buffet style breakfast. A short stage at the center of the room had been made to look like a rock outcropping, speckled with bright moss.
Somehow the light was altered too, pinker, warmer. By the doors, massive tree branch forms drooped from the ceiling, hung with ferns and baskets stuffed with gift bags. Halle and I both took one on our way out—mine held a fidget fish and hers a stuffed cat.
In the hallway, ribbons strung with live flowering plants wove overhead and along the walls, and there were long strips of molded surfaces. I loved what they’d done even more than I’d hated the blank walls before.
“Touch it!” Halle urged. “This one’s rough rock and grainy wood, but there’s sand and grass and pebbles—it’s kind of addictive.”
We met V outside a lift to the subbasement. A group of several dozen people with instruments crowded around her as she gave the bands their final schedules. Despite my excitement, my spirits sank thinking of the subbasement underwater, and what that would mean for weeks’ worth of meals.
“Joule has a surprise for us,” V said. “He’s been helping the reclamation crew.”
That tracked for me without asking more. He would be the one to turn a flood into a present. Inside the elevator had been made up like a submarine, and when the doors opened, instead of the catastrophe I expected it looked like a calm lakeside. Or at least so long as I didn’t stare too hard at the workers still ferrying supply crates out of the water.
“Did I get pretty close?” Joule asked, sliding over the water’s surface in a crudely printed canoe. “To your family’s old place?”
I picked up a shiny pebble and ran my thumb over its smooth sides, and a bugbot, the kind used in the garden labs, landed on my hand. Even it was decorated, its tiny wings fitted to appear like a butterfly’s.
“Pretty darn close,” I told him. “I love it.”
Joule smiled so wide I could’ve counted his teeth. “It can’t last all weekend, because we’ve got to get this water back into the recycling system as quick as possible. But while it does, we might as well enjoy it.”
My tab vibrated an alarm, telling me I needed to hurry to the kitchen, but I gave all three hugs and cheek kisses before I dashed away.
I oversaw my staff volunteers through every step, watching the grills and ovens, ensuring each item that reached the buffet platters looked and tasted perfect. Live music filtered into the kitchen, and some early risers stood near the serving line to watch people work, but I was too deep in the zone to pay much attention.
It was nothing like before, when the staff treated every idea I’d had like a debate point. No one questioned me or my recipes, not even the schedule. We just worked, side by side, totally committed.
At last, as we laid out the buffet, I let myself take a breath and admire my handiwork. I had served a mildly sweet, lemony bread, shaped into spheres, green tea lattes, raspberry jelly donuts, saffron scrambled tofu, and tempeh sausage.
The cake bread recipe had been one of the first things Faraday taught me to bake on my own. Otherwise there was a mix of our usual fare, from rice with raisins to fried potatoes and plantains.
“Impressive work, sous-chef Lane,” Chef told me as she scanned the buffet.
“It really came together.” My mind was on the platters, searching for anything that might tumble and fall, but I felt her looking at me.
“Still so modest,” she said, patting my back.
All the department heads came to shake my hand before getting into line.
“Outstanding,” they said, along with, “Incredible,” and, “Such a tremendous achievement.” And everyone, even the president on her crutches, came by to thank me—thank me!—for pushing forward with the holiday despite all we’d just been through.
“We all did this together,” I reminded them, finally understanding what my sister used to say about her own notoriety. How it had never been only her work or ideas, but folks always forgot that and heaped praise on her.
It was ironic that the holiday meant to honor her would be what brought me the closest to finally seeing her through her own eyes. Fitting.
Once the cafeteria had filled with trustees and most were seated with their first plate, I got in the buffet line to make my own. Andrek and Joule tagged along, both having already eaten, then showed me to a reserved table. V stood off the stage, where a science fair of sorts was going on, and beyond that trustees were taking advantage of the cleared floor to dance. I realized then that music and people weren’t the only noises I heard, but also wind interspersed with the light drizzle of rain.
My ears and eyes and stomach got so full, I was almost late starting lunch. For that meal, I kept things light and snackable, but filling enough to serve dinner late. Faraday had liked to serve dinner an hour past sunset, that way she could watch the colors change through the windows while we worked, and I tried to hold that timing.
My next round of volunteers helped me heat up everything I’d made ahead of time, mashups of street foods from places that didn’t exist anymore, alongside an array of breads, crisps, and dips, with fresh fruits from the garden.
While carrying out dishes to the buffet though, I got sort of lightheaded, and V convinced me to sneak off for a short nap. Seeing as the talent contest would start on stage any minute, and there was no telling how much commotion that would end up being, I took her advice.
“Sweetheart, please wake up. I know you’re exhausted, and you can rest more soon. But wake up now. You don’t want to miss this. I can’t let you miss it.”
Mom sat on my bed, a note in her voice I’d never heard before.
“You’ve been asleep for over five hours, Lane, please.” No, I had heard it before, just never to me. For me. “I’m so sorry. And I have so much to tell you, but later. Whenever you want. Now, let’s get you a quick shower and you can make it before dinner. Your dinner. Oh, Lane! Please wake up?”
I let her tug my blanket lower. “My dinner?”
“Yes!”
I bolted upright. Smelled myself and gagged. “Shower, okay. And crap! I missed lunch. I’m missing everything!”
“Not yet,” she promised, grabbing clothes as she pulled me out the door.
The last few days had been so chaotic. Remnants of memories swam back to me, out of order. I walked over empty water tubes and snacks, atop mine and Andrek’s castoff clothes.
When we’d returned back to the main dome, Mom had still been in Medical, and that was where Dad ended up too, so Andrek and Joule, Halle and V had all crashed in our quarters until yesterday, and I had never gotten around to cleaning up.
“So, the lunch?” I started, clawing my way to the present. I was in the final rinse of my shower, and Mom handed me lotion and a towel the moment the mist ended. Words were going to be hard for a while. I hoped she remembered to bear with me. “Did…it?”
She laughed. Lightly. It sounded like she’d finally gotten some sleep too. “It’s been the most wonderful day, Lane. I’ll tell you while you dress.” She laid out clothes, and I worked on not slipping over the floor.
“The food. Lane. Lane. What you made. It’s been such an experience. The way your dishes honored the lands we lost in the melt while also celebrating the ways people, and cuisines, joined each other after… Everyone is so moved. This is a tremendous accomplishment. You should feel proud. I am so proud.”
That note was pride. In me! And she wasn’t yelling or yell-whispering even, not about me lying to her or sneaking around, not about outright defying her demands to stay home, locked up tight. We were past all that somehow.
Mom talked while I dried and dressed. She told me how worried everyone had been when I didn’t wake up in time to oversee lunch, but V had shared my notes, and trustees from all the departments had pitched in. How Mom, and Dad, apparently, got roped in to represent me.
“Except we couldn’t. Not really. All we could do is marvel at what you created. This entire day has been the most beautiful and bittersweet celebration. Not only for Faraday, but for everyone we’ve lost. For all of us who survived. I should never have doubted your talents. Never.” She picked up a comb and worked it through my curls. “Your dad’s holding our table with your friends, and—Oh my, Lane!”
Our eyes met in the mirror, and her smile was electric. Catching.
“You look stunning,” Mom said. “Absolutely beautiful.”
I beamed at her as I adjusted the collar of my dress. V picked this out for me ages ago, but I’d never gotten around to trying it on. The navy neckline plunged low, and it was shorter than anything I’d have chosen for myself. The separate collar was stiff and structured, like a halo around my shoulders.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I looked like Faraday’s sister.
“I’m ready,” I told her, accepting a kiss on my cheek before leading the way to the cafeteria.
The trust had never looked so lunar. Extraterrestrial even.
Colored orbs swam over the floor like a lava lamp, but otherwise it was dim and transformed by tablecloths and gently twinkling centerpieces. A rainbow of plants hung from the walls like latticework, and the stage was full of dancers.
My dad was at the table in front of the stage. Milo and crew were with him, along with my friends. Except I couldn’t call them only friends anymore. They were my fellow conspirators, my second family. My happy hand.
Joule spotted me first. “Lane’s back!”
Andrek jumped up. Whistled.
Halle charged over and pulled me into a seat next to V, who kissed me and whispered, “Good morning, sleepyhead,” without a hint of sarcasm.
Our emcees took the stage, shooing the dancers out of their way as they announced the meal. I’d made most of it, but visitors from Guanghan and Blackstone had brought a few other delicacies—alcohol and moon cakes. The lights darkened further, enough that the floral centerpieces glowed, and the emcees led us in reciting the lunar vow once again. This time, I didn’t miss a single beat.
Then Vice President Barre had the microphone, and she called for a moment of silence before her speech. “I want to thank everyone, and I mean everyone, for making our first Dreamtide celebration possible,” she said, earning a round of applause. “From one child’s invention and invitation to dream, we came together and built a community, one that I believe will serve as a beacon for generations to come.
“Let us never forget the brave souls who inspired us on this journey, and let us never forget their sacrifices. But most of all let us remember their hopefulness to imagine a better future, and their audacity to challenge us to see it through. Faraday showed us the path, but her legacy lives on in those of us walking upon it. Happy Dreamtide to us all!”
More clapping followed, and President Marshall gestured pointedly until V and I took a bow on stage, letting everyone whoop about their gratitude and approval.
The holiday was everything I’d wanted it to be. Moreover, it was everything my sister’s memory deserved, and a tribute to all we’d done with her dream so far.
My face hurt from smiling.