“I think this might be food,” Rosemary said, returning her attention to the tiny object. It was the color of eggplant and polygonal in shape.
Sighing, Lamont lifted his wrist and set his radio output to the channel that corresponded to the number on Rosemary’s cowl. “Does this place feel familiar to you?” He asked.
The young medic paused from her task long enough to give him a bemused look, her gaze flashing behind him to briefly take in the whole fantastic scene. “Familiar?” She repeated incredulously.
Lamont gestured helplessly. “Well, if not familiar, then at least not—” He struggled to find words. After a moment, he started over. “When we were on that planet, and in the caves, I had this feeling I couldn’t shake. Everything was just so completely unfamiliar that it was, well, uncomfortably close to panic. I had to try really hard just to stop myself running away.”
“That makes sense, I suppose,” Rosemary acknowledged, though her tone made Lamont feel like the consummate coward.
“I don’t feel that here,” Lamont forged ahead. “Despite the strangeness of our surroundings, something about this place almost feels as if it reminds me of someplace else. I certainly don’t feel like I did before.”
Rosemary nodded slightly and reached up into the tree-like object, biting her lip as she plucked something from inside the branch. “You know, Monty, you get used to it. Strangeness. When I first started studying the aftereffects of the Epiphany event with Milo, I sometimes felt as if I were crawling out of my skin. But after a while, you just learn to expect the unexpected. It’s like getting your sea legs.”
“Do you think that’s all it is in this case?” Lamont asked, looking around a little moodily. He was, after all, an investigative journalist. It wasn’t as if he had never been in an unexpected situation. “I’m just acclimating to weirdness?”
Rosemary glanced up momentarily from the olive-sized object she was holding between her gloved fingers. She shook her head. “No, not just. This place is surreal, true, but it’s certainly not threatening. In fact, it’s rather—”
“Accommodating,” Lamont agreed, repeating the word he had used earlier, which had only become more apt.
Rosemary nodded. “I think this might be food,” She said, returning her attention to the tiny object. It was the color of eggplant and polygonal in shape.
“You should collect some samples so we can—” Lamont began, but before he had completed the suggestion, Rosemary palmed the fruit of the strange tree and twisted her helmet out of its socket in her cowl.
“Rosemary!” Lamont exclaimed.
Holding her helmet in the crook of her free arm, the medic lifted the fruit to her nose and sniffed it. “Our suits are reading a breathable atmosphere in here,” She said, and Lamont could hear her voice simultaneously through his speaker and through the thin surface of his helmet. “I can confirm.”
“You’re still taking rather a risk,” Lamont hissed.
“Life’s full of risks,” Rosemary said. Then she popped the fruit in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.
Next: Missing Person
You know, last page I jokingly thought to myself that this was the food court. Looks like I might accidentally have been right. Hopefully it's not a museum exhibit on "The Poisonous Plant Species That Will Kill You Fastest"