An early scene for “They Return to Earth”

His trip through the Canteen line was mostly uneventful. He scanned his credit band verifying his citizen status, picked up his tray, and navigated the various food stations. He got a salad, choosing a variety of fresh vegetable toppings and a simple dressing, and a cup of soup. They had mushroom soup today. Then he went to the sandwich station where his grand-niece Siena was working. “Splendid Cycle, Uncle. What can I get you?”

“Splendid Cycle, Siena. I’ll have a half sandwich of chevre and veg on sourdough. I hope you’re doing well.”

“I could complain, but that wouldn’t help much.” She started making his half sandwich. “What veg would you like?”

“Let’s go with cucumber slices and roasted red peppers.” Friste hesitated before asking, “Did you hear about your great-grandmother?”

She plated his sandwich and looked up at him. “Yeah, mom told me after my workshift last Cycle. The cousins got together for dinner at the Orchard Hideaway to reminisce. We talked for a long time. Well, until their kids needed to be picked up from the Nursery. It’s weird being the only cousin not partnered or with a child. Would you like a pickle or anything else with your sandwich?”

The abrupt return to the lunch-line script threw Friste for a moment. He just shook his head and took the proffered plate to add to his tray. “Take care,” he said finally.

“You too,” she said as he turned away to the drink station.

Friste grabbed a glass of water and walked to the table where he typically sat. Most of his workmates were already there, and he saw that Shadar had saved him a seat at the end of the table. Their conversations were animated. As Friste got closer, he could pick out Eugene recounting a tale of a sediment-clogged irrigation line in the Arboretum and Lumen telling those closest to her about the time she played a practical joke on a newbie, rigging the lights in a corridor to fail in sequence as the previous one was fixed. Friste smiled at the regularity of it all, the comfort of the usual banter. As Friste got closer still, some of his workmates made eye contact with him, perhaps nodded or gave a half-smile, and then tapped or nudged their neighbor, followed by pointing with their noses toward Friste. And then the process would repeat. By the time Friste made it to the table, his workmates were silently waiting for him.

Eugene, the self-styled leader of the bunch, stood and said, “On behalf of all of us, condolences on the loss of your mother. I remember her as a kind and goodhearted woman.” The others had stood as well. Shadar took Friste’s tray and set it down for him. Then each gave their personal condolences with a pat on the back, gripping his shoulders with both hands, or the occasional hug. Then they all sat down. Shadar waited for Friste to sit before sitting himself. Lumen, sitting mid-table, then asked Friste if he would like to say a few words. Friste shook his head but said, “It’s fine. Everything is taken care of.”

They all waited, expecting something more. Then Eugene asked, “When will the remembrance ceremony be?”

Friste paled at the question. “I wasn’t thinking of having one.” As if he hadn’t already made up his mind.

There was silence at the table for half a hec longer. But sensing that Friste didn’t really want to talk about it, the others started talking to each other, quietly at first and then returning to a loud and animated level. During this awkward transition, Shadar leaned in and asked Friste how his workshift had gone, placing a hand on his friend’s back. Friste started mumbling something about the water condenser, but then just said, “I’m fine.” He found himself staring at the contents of his tray. Then Shadar said in a whisper, “It will get easier.” Louder, he said, “I had a nasty commode to deal with in the Dorms.” Shadar told his tale between bites of food, at first just to Friste but then to their nearest neighbors at the table. Eventually, Friste started eating. When Shadar finished his tale, belittling the young students who had created such a problem, Johan across the table told his own tale. Friste got through the rest of his lunch without saying much of anything. He nodded, smiled, or pulled a face as seemed appropriate as Johan told his story. But Friste wasn’t really there.

His food eaten, he got up to leave, saying simply, “I’ll see everyone next Cycle.” Shadar, who wasn’t done eating, got up with him, gathering up his tray. To Friste he said, “I’ll go with you.” To the table he declared, “Keep plunging away!”