Food For Thought

Food for Thought


By


P.J. Lawton



The colony was dangerously overcrowded; food was in short supply and
very expensive. The available food was pretty dreadful and consisted of
a bland dehydrated ground meat protein substance called WonderFare. He
didn't even know what made up the ingredients of WonderFare; he wasn't
about to ask. It didn't matter how you prepared it, after it was
re-hydrated it was still dreadful. Unfortunately, WonderFare was the
main diet staple available to the colonist. Fresh meat and produce when
available was extremely expensive. With his current lack of employment
he figured it would be many cycles before he would taste real food
again.


As he left the Action Force Veterans Center he was more
dejected than he had even been. There was still no work available. Just
what did a warrior due when there was no war? He was running low on
credits; his pay from the last conflict was just about gone. He was a
mercenary, a hired warrior, just one of many currently unemployed
soldiers wondering around the colony. Somebody needed to start a war
somewhere and it needed to be soon.


In a feeble attempt to shed his depression he decided a visit
the bar of his old friend Jacos might do. There he could get a cheap
sim-beer and hopefully the scoop on some chance of employment. Maybe
today was the day.


***


He was about half way through his second sim-beer when Jacos
sauntered over.


"Hey Capt, long time no see."


"Hey Jacos, what's happening?


"Heard a little rumor you might just be interested in. Looks
like the Daygrus may be hiring."


"The Daygrus, you sure?" He didn't particularly like the
Daygrus. They were the scavengers of the quadrant. They would barter
for or steal anything they could get their claws on. Besides, they were
the most repulsive creatures. They had big hairy bodies, little beady
eyes and razor sharp teeth and claws. "I haven't seen anything posted.
Any idea why they would need mercs?"


"Well, you know the Daygrus. They keep pretty much to
themselves. Rumor is that they will be down in sector 16 this
afternoon."


"Normally I wouldn't even consider working for the 'Grus' but
work is work. I'll check it out. Thanks old friend."



***


There were about 100 out of work warriors milling about the
temporary recruiting station. The Daygrus had hired a Terran mercenary
recruiter to screen the soldiers. He stood in line and watched for a
few minutes. Many of the warriors were being turned away but
occasionally one would be sent forward to fill out and sign their
contract.


As he neared the head of the line one of the rejected
soldiers stopped by.


"Hey Capt, don't even bother to apply if you have any family.
The "grus" only want unattached veterans. If you have a spouse,
children, or parents they don't want you. I had heard that the "grus"
were cheap but I guess they don't want the expense of paying veterans
benefits it you buy it."


"Well, if they only want unattached warriors then I believe
you may be right. I guess that lets me in then. Thanks friend."



He had been an orphan, brought up in several homes, no family
and few friends. That's what made him become a warrior in the first
place. No unnecessary distractions had made him a very good one.



When his turn came he answered a few questions and was given
a contract to sign. It was a pretty straightforward War contract except
for one paragraph. Paragraph 22B said that in the event of his death,
his remains became the sole property of the Daygru Consortium. Always a
pessimist he figured that it meant that if you bought it, the Daygrus
would simply let you would remain where you fell. Oh well, what did it
matter to him; he would be dead after all. Without another thought he
signed the contract.


He reported to the trans-portal at the appointed time where
about 50 warriors waited. One by one they stepped forward into the
portal and disappeared. When his turn came he happened to notice the
dialer. The portal was dialed to sector 21 division 12265. He knew from
past travel that those particular coordinates would put them at the far
reaches of the quadrant. That was strange; there wasn't anything out
there. He didn't have much time to ponder his deduction though for
within seconds he was there. As he stepped out of the receiving
trans-portal two big Daygrus roughly grabbed him.


He was pushed and prodded into line with other warriors. More
Daygru soldiers moved the line forward. Something was vaguely familiar
about the sickly sweet stench that permeated the still air. After about
10 minutes they were herded toward a group of warehouses. Waiting his
turn to enter he saw to his left a loading dock covered with stacked
pallets. Each pallet contained box after box stamped with familiar
writing. As he moved closer he was able to read the words, WonderFare.
There were hundreds of boxes. Why would the Daygrus need so much food?



Something wasn't right. All his instincts said so. As he
looked above the entrance he saw some Daygru script. He had never been
good at Daygru either speaking or writing but normally in time he could
figure it out. Something was nagging at the edge of his mind as he
moved to the door.


Large clawed hands roughly shoved him through. Utterly
stunned, he couldn't believe his eyes! Suddenly he was struck with a
massive electro discharge. Silently he toppled onto the moving conveyer
belt. As the conveyer moved quietly along his organs were already
starting to shut down. Just as the blackness closed around him, his
declining brain function analyzed one piece of remaining data. It
deciphered and translated the Daygru writing from the entrance. Simply
put, the writing had said Slaughterhouse #5.


End