D.ALL Chapter 7

But while they were hunched over the old, tattered star charts which sprawled across the Camper’s console—Free slowly powered on, lazily descending and entering the main room, spotting Frost, and announcing his presence with a stretched-out yawn.

“You feeling better?” Free asked them.

“For the most part,” Frost answered.

“Remember, take it easy for the next few weeks, we can’t afford another repair like that.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Free took a seat on the kitchen counter, “You know, I saw a diner when we were crashing that I think is not too far from here. Could be a good place to get all our thoughts together.”

“We have food here; you do not even need to eat.”

“Yeah, but it's a special occasion, plus we got some cash to spare.”

“We need to restock on medical supplies, that will be costly.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Humph.”

“Come on,” Free hopped off the counter and meandered over to them, “It's the perfect place to make a plan, get Foxx up to speed…” He pointed at the scattered star charts, “...And get some proper directions.”

Frost sighed, “You have made your point.”

With that, Frost methodically sorted and packed the star charts into the glove compartment as Free tried to find which direction the diner was—and after an hour of good-ole telescope wayfinding later, they were landing onto the diner’s half-filled parking lot.

The diner was a quaint little place built on a small asteroid turned into a space platform, clearly well maintained and cared for but still showing its age—the neon pole sign next to it that said “F&J’s Diner” flickering every few minutes, and the asphalt of parking lot slightly cracked and gray.

It took them a while to park, no spaces fit the Camper’s size, but Frost tried anyway, spending twelve long minutes circling the lot. In that time Foxx had woken up, although he stayed in his burrow playing with the memory game Free scavenged back on Calmede. While he lacked hands to press the buttons with, Free gave him some dowels he could levitate and press with instead.

“Humph,” Frost admitted defeat, parking where there were no other ships adjacent and taking up two parking spots at the same time.

“Hey, won’t we get towed for that?” Free asked as he dusted off his boots and reformed his messy hair.

“By whom?” Frost said as they turned off the Camper and gestured to Foxx it was time to leave.

“Oh yeah, fair point,” Free hopped out of the Camper as Foxx floated down from his burrow—yet he seemed hesitant to leave, hugging the wall next to the door.

“Is it safe out in space?” Foxx quietly asked.

“Don’t see how it wouldn't be? it's just space,” Free replied.

“Ok,” Foxx inched into the doorway, poking his head through and finding that the void of space was… surprisingly lukewarm—if a bit dry, and he did not drift away.

After poking his head in and out again, just to make sure, he slowly floated down and landed next to Free. Frost joined them shortly after locking the Camper, taking the lead as they walked to the diner, and opening its door for the other two, which caused it to let out a sharp ding-tring as they entered.

The inside of the diner was narrow, most of it was taken up by rows of booths and the red stained wood counter; the trio had to walk in line just to fit in. A few people were around, most in the booths and most definitely not from Calmede.

Taking brief curious glances, Foxx spotted species he had never seen before: A dog-headed humanoid embedded with scrap metal sharing a sundae with a collection of floating lights, a quintuple of cat-like creatures made of metallic swirls goofing off and making a ruckus, a cubic duck made of light reading seven books at once—just to name a few. Paired with the unintelligible rock n’ roll that rang out from a small, cracked radio on the counter and the torrent of smells from the diner’s diverse dishes—from sweet to savory to raw to metallic, Foxx decided it was best to stay as close as he could to the other two.

But, just before the trio could claim a booth, the door behind the counter swung open and a dark looming figure, about as twice as tall as Free, emerged from the low-lit kitchen. Its cold silver skin, long slender arms, and quadruple jointed fingers being the only parts that could be seen as it creeped into the light. Until its neck and featureless spherical head followed and extended over to the counter—meeting Free at eye level while leaving the rest of its body behind the door, then noticing Foxx and turning its eyeless gaze to him.

Fearing it would eat him, he swooped behind Free and stared back, his tail curled in front and ears flat, ready to defend himself if it pounced—but then the creature spoke.

“Oh, aren't you the cutest!” the creature said as the rest of her body exited the doorway and her attention diverted to Frost and Free. “Welcome to our humble little diner, the best and only one for the next six Clusters!” her head sliced open to simulate a smile. “My name is Formosa, co-owner and your waiter, how can I help you?” with a voice that was raspy but warm, and no longer being shadowed in darkness, she seemed much less imposing.

Foxx’s relaxed stance, slightly, and his attention moved to the various pins and trinkets that covered her work clothes. They were mostly cute characters or animals, but a few were travel pins of different planets she must have visited, one depicting a much more pristine and livelier Calmede with the skyscraper as the centerpiece.

“I’m Free—the Self-Made Machine, and this is Frost and Foxx,” Free pointed to himself and then the others in sequence, “Just looking for a bite to eat and some directions.”

Frost leaned down to Foxx, “Can you jump up onto the seat, please?” Foxx nodded and did so, “Most importantly, we are trying to find this kid’s guardian, have you seen anyone that looks like him?”

She let out a sorrowful sign, “Poor thing, all alone and your guardian must be worried sick about you.” She looked Foxx up and down and placed her finger where her chin would be, “Not very good with species names—most folk don’t tell you, but I can say for sure I have not seen someone that looks like him.” She unlatched one of the trinkets and gave it to Foxx, it looked like a chubby, bucktoothed, and vaguely fish-looking creature, “Most around here in Ebb-Burrows are fully organic, so can’t be a local.”

“Ebb-Burrows?” Foxx asked while examining the trinket Formosa gave him.

“The name of the Cluster Chain we’re in, honey,” Formosa looked concerned.

“A ‘Cluster Chain’, what is that?”

“...How long have you been in space for? If you and your guardian traveled from another Chain, you should know this.”

Foxx stared into space, figuratively, for a moment before responding, “I don’t remember.”

“…”

The darkness from before suddenly returned, emerging from Formosa as she eerily turned to Frost and Free—still maintaining her pseudo-smile, “You didn’t kidnap a child from a backwater Cluster, right?”

Free fidgeted in surprise, “Hey now—”

“And please, be honest, we don’t like ransomers nor liars around here.”

Frost chimed in before Free could say anything, “We found him on Calmede when we were scavenging. We do not know how he got there, and he cannot remember how he got there either.”

“Is that true, Foxx?” Formosa asked, Foxx nodded in response, his eyes still on the trinket and his ears up. “Alrighty then,” the darkness instantly vanished, “Sorry bout’ that, we just like to keep things quiet around here, no tolerance for any kinds of hooligans or pirates. Lately there's been a bit of an uptick in the latter, sadly.”

“With people come parasites,” Frost said.

“Ain't that the truth,” she added. “Thankfully, most around here aren’t brave or dumb enough that a little ‘persuasion’ doesn’t do the trick.”

“Yeah, she’s enough to keep anyone out,” Free said under his breath.

She seemed like she wanted to say more but was interrupted by the ringing of timers from the kitchen and a voice just as raspy as hers calling for help. “I need to get back to serving, find a seat and I’ll be over in a bit!” she said, returning to the shadowed kitchen.

Trying not to bump into the other customers, the trio eventually made their way to one of the side booths in a far corner, choosing it since it gave Frost a clear view of the Camper. Frost then Free scooted into the right side while Foxx hopped onto the left; its seats were as cold and firm as stone, but things were much quieter, hearing only the ambiance of the AC and the radio, which was now playing some overly sweet love song.

Free plucked a menu from the condiment holder—it was about as thick as a slab, having several pages worth of “consumables” that catered to pretty much any and every diet, even serving raw materials.

“So, the Turbulence waffles or the Burrow Breakfast Bash?” Free asked himself.

“As I said last time we ate out, just pick whatever has the most calories for the best price,” Frost barely looked at the menu before holding it out for Foxx to read. “I am getting the Smoky Steak burger, which looks decently priced.”

“Hey, just because I don’t have taste buds, yet, doesn’t mean that’s all that matters. Some eat with their eyes, you know? Smell with them too!”

“Yes, and you—”

“And I literally do that! I'm gonna get the Burrow Breakfast Bash.”

“Do you know what is on it?”

“Pancakes and waffles stacked on top of each other with every chocolate-adjacent topping put in between and then covered in a special 10-year-aged fruit syrup, with a bacon salad on the side!”

“...I think that amount of sugar kills most people.”

“Eh, that’s with a lot of things—Anyway, Foxx, what about you, what are you getting?”

“Smoky Steak burger,” Foxx answered.

A few moments later Formosa came over and Frost told her the trio’s orders, which she swiftly etched down with her claws onto a gray textured notepad, then returned to tending to the other customers.

“This place is different from over there, why?” Foxx asked as he looked out the window towards the barren planet they had just left.

“I was a bit surprised too, but places like this are all over space. People will settle anywhere and there's plenty of people like us who need a bite to eat,” Free explained. “Tis the age of Aliens we are in!” he put extra fancy emphasis on “tis.”

Foxx let out a flat “Woah” as Frost let out a weak sigh—and immediately Foxx asked another question, “How did you meet Frost?”

“Oh,” the question caught Free off guard, but he quickly relaxed and leaned back into the booth, “They ran me over.”