Chapter Five

The taste was excellent. They sat glumly around the table, some of them hardly eating at all. The only one who seemed to be enjoying himself was Captain Franco. "More?" he said, looking around. "More? And some wine, perhaps." "Not me," French said. "I think I'll go back to the chart room." "Me, too." Jones stood up, pushing his chair back. "I'll see you later." The Captain watched them go. Some of the others excused themselves. "What do you suppose the matter is?" the Captain said. He turned to Peterson. Peterson sat staring down at his plate, at the potatoes, the green peas, and at the thick slab of tender, warm meat. He opened his mouth. No sound came. The Captain put his hand on Peterson's shoulder. "It is only organic matter, now," he said. "The life essence is gone." He ate, spooning up the gravy with some bread. "I, myself, love to eat. It is one of the greatest things that a living creature can enjoy. Eating, resting, meditation, discussing things." Peterson nodded. Two more men got up and went out. The Captain drank some water and sighed. "Well," he said. "I must say that this was a very enjoyable meal. All the reports I had heard were quite true—the taste of wub. Very fine. But I was prevented from enjoying this pleasure in times past." He dabbed at his lips with his napkin and leaned back in his chair. Peterson stared dejectedly at the table. The Captain watched him intently. He leaned over. "Come, come," he said. "Cheer up! Let's discuss things." He smiled. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, the role of Odysseus in the myths—" Peterson jerked up, staring. "To go on," the Captain said. "Odysseus, as I understand him—"