Anna Howard frowned.

For the last three weeks she had orbited round the large kitchen in the meeting lodge trying to teach several of her crewmates how to cook. Some had gotten it, some hadn’t.

“How’s this?” Wilkins asked.

Anna maneuvered around Park, who was struggling with the contents of a bowl, to the edge of the table. She dipped a large wooden spoon in the bowl Wilkins was working on. Raising the spoon to her nose, she sniffed gently then placed the tip of the spoon in her mouth. The contents tasted brackish. Fighting the urge to grimace or spit it back out, she said “it’s improving” as convincingly as possible. Looking around, she changed the subject. “By the way, where’s Doc?”

Wilkins hesitated, unsure how to answer. “Indisposed”, she finally blurted.

“Again?”

“Just a rough patch”, Wilkins shrugged.

“I’m worried about this rough patch”, Anna mused.

“So’s the captain”, Park broke in. “And he ain’t the only one”.

-

Whack!

Gerrin let the sledgehammer he’d been swinging dangle as Reilly let go of the post he’d been holding. “Good job”, Reilly commented. “You haven’t hit my hands once today”.

“It takes a certain talent”, Gerrin panted lightly as he wiped the sweat from his brow with his free hand.

“So I’ve noticed”. Reilly looked behind him at the newly repaired section of the fence. “How much longer we gonna be here?”

Gerrin followed Reilly’s gaze. “We’re almost done. Why?”

“I mean on this planet”.

Gerrin looked at him. “You got something against fresh air and dirt under your feet?”

“I’d just prefer to be working within my skillset”.

“Right”.

“Seriously”, Reilly continued as he stood up, “three weeks is a b