First Contact was a great shock to humanity. Not only were we far from alone in the universe, we were indisputably closer to the bottom of the food chain than the top – a place we’d always felt sure we belonged.

Space is full of intelligent lifeforms for whom interstellar travel is old hat, and the Potluck stretches so widely that the unclaimed patches – free space – are so named simply to clarify to whom they don’t belong. Yet while the Kithari may win in terms of sheer power, there’s some consolation in knowing there’s one Earthen species with a greater reach than that of our overlords: coffea arabica, brewed as a cup of coffee.

Wherever you find yourself – a Ripali beach or mysterious Olarian Beta, an Exy station or wandering the cardamom grasses of fair Lethinae – there will be coffee, and with it the ubiquitous question: ‘Exy or Starry’? Order an Exy and you’ll receive a strong, rich cup with a side of something milky and a pot of honey. A Starry is more unusual, blending the euphoric Elaarian star berries with coffee, cream, honey, and cinnamon. The whole of a Starry is so much greater than the sum of its parts that I swear it’s a feat of alchemy.

-the Interstellar Love of Cooking, Volume One

* * *

Dove was back to her usual self in the morning, already partway though her exercise routine when I opened my eyes, her face serene as she held a stretch. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, then noticed something on the nightstand.

A fancy disposable cup, and one perfect tangerine with a leaf still attached.

“For you,” she grunted when she saw me looking. Then she got up, grabbed a towel, and wandered out of our room without saying anything else.

I sipped the drink cautiously, not sure what to expect, and moaned with pleasure upon discovering that it was thick, strong drinking chocolate seasoned with an unfamiliar spice. I ripped into the tangerine and a spray of citrus oil filled the air, bringing a smile to my lips that lingered as I wondered how far she’d had to search for these treats. Chocolate wasn’t cheap, either, not on Earth and definitely not in free space.

She rejoined me with her hair in a towel and gave me a sideways look when she entered, her eyes crinkling at whatever she saw. “Riley’s runs out early,” she explained, “and I knew you’d love their chocolate. I stole the tangerine from a tree.”

I laughed and held out the half I’d saved for her, but all she would take was a piece. “We slept in,” she added. “You wanna head to the pub for breakfast, then take a look at the shops once they open?”

I was eager to try a full Exy breakfast, though I thought I’d skip the Octavian sour and order coffee instead. We walked to the bar and the hobbit-like bar keeper waved at us immediately from where he was wiping down a table at the back of the cramped room. It was quiet today, but a few people sat at the counter as well as a family at one of the tables.

“Morning,” he called. “I’ve got a table ready, come on back.”

It was the largest one in the place, sandwiched next to a sliding door that sat half open. The kitchen beyond was compact but clean, and I smiled at the woman who was frying something at the range. She ignored me, as good cooks usually do.

“Two full Exy breakfasts, please,” I told him. “And coffee, if you have it?”

He nodded. “We’ve got instant or real, served Exy or Starry. We import it from Earth, station-grown isn’t the same. It’s probably ten times more expensive than you’re used to. Still want it?”

I nodded firmly. Who knew when I’d find it again, after all? “Real, please. With cream and sugar.” I didn’t know what he meant by exy or starry. Then I remembered the real reason we were here. “Did you talk to Ahn?”

“I did,” he said. “Let me take care of a few things, then I’ll give you an update.”

He hurried off, then came back a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee, a pitcher of something creamy, and a little pot of honey. That was almost a greater treasure than the coffee, and I wondered if there were bees in the dome where they farmed potatoes and other vegetables or if it, too, was imported from somewhere far away.

I dipped a spoon in and brought it to my tongue, then closed my eyes and savored the floral richness, thinking dreamily of bees fed on alien flowers. Dove released a low chuckle, and when I opened my eyes I saw her watching. She smiled and shook her head, then poured cream into her cup and took a sip. I added honey and cream to mine, and had to hold back a moan of pleasure when I tasted it and felt the familiar buzz of caffeine.

“Oh, sweet coffee,” I muttered lovingly and was bringing the cup to my lips for another sip when Dove made a hissing sound and reached for her stunner. She had it up and pointed at the door before I knew what was happening.

I held my coffee protectively and looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. The bartender stood next to the front door, frozen in place with his hands held high. The family that had been sitting near the front window was gone, I realized, and most of the people who’d been at the bar had also cleared out. An older man sat perched on a stool, but other than that the room was empty and – dark, I realized. The curtains had been drawn, and the neon open sign was turned off.

“This will knock you out for hours if I shoot,” Dove told the bartender coolly, swinging around the table to stand in front of me. “Assuming your heart is in good shape and it doesn’t kill you. Why did you lock the door?”

The kitchen door banged open. Dove glanced over out of eyes gone wide, but she kept the gun aimed and steady. The woman who had been cooking stood there, a plate in each hand and a scowl on her face. She had a mountain of puffy silver hair and brilliant purple eyeshadow that contrasted wonderfully with her orange apron, and her eyes were bright from within their cushions of wrinkles.

“Put that thing away and sit down,” she yelled. “If you shoot Jonah you’re not getting any breakfast. He’s just following my orders. You asked to see me,” she explained, and I let out a gasp.

“Ahn?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes expressively.

“Gods save me from little baby Earthies,” she muttered. “If you weren’t related to Rosetta I’d kick you out right now. Though I suppose you’re to be congratulated for having survival instincts. I’m not going to hurt her,” she added in an exasperated tone directly to Dove, who still stood braced protectively in front of me though she’d lowered her gun halfway. “Sit!” and with that, she slammed two plates of food down, retreated briefly to the kitchen, and returned with a cinnamon roll and a third cup of coffee.

We followed her orders, though I noticed Dove had reached for one of her boot daggers and was eating her sausage with it, ostentatiously so no one could miss her meaning. I hoped she would switch to a fork when she got to the eggs.

The bartender – Jonah? – finished drawing the curtains and retreated hastily behind the bar, a sound choice since the thick counter would shield him if Dove started shooting. The only other remaining customer, however, picked up his mug and ambled over to our table with a friendly smile.

A small man with shaggy silver hair and cheerful eyes, he was fascinatingly dressed in a long navy kimono hanging open over a rust-colored plaid shirt and pink trousers that were worn noticeably thin at the knees. Something about the ensemble reminded me of my lawyer’s penchant for purple and velvet and I wondered all over again about the Exy fashion scene.

“I’m Barnaby Okomoto,” he explained in the most unusual accent I’d ever heard, a combination of Japanese and free space drawl with a layer of mid-eastern American English, and pulled an empty chair closer before sitting down. “Ahn said you’d want to talk to me too. Sorry we scared you. Guess you’ve had a hard trip?”

Ahn snorted and ripped off a piece of the gooey roll. “I expect her grandma’s made it a hard trip. But you made it this far. I didn’t think you’d bother, but Rosetta said you’d do it. I’m sorry we scared you, but we thought it would be better to have this talk in private.”

She paused and gave Dove a meaningful look. I kicked her under the table, then did it again when she seemed poised to ignore the hint. She speared another sausage and bit it off pointedly, still glaring at Jonah, so I gave up.

“I’m sorry we overreacted,” I answered for both of us. “Thanks for being willing to talk. You knew my great-aunt?”

“Stars, did I know her,” Ahn laughed. “We were college roomies back in the day, her and April and I. She and April dated for years, you know. I don’t think they ever stopped loving each other, but they were like fire and oil.” She paused to watch my face, smirking slightly.

“April was keeping an eye on me, wasn’t she,” I asked dumbly. It still didn’t make any sense. Why would my great-aunt have cared?

Ahn shrugged. “Sort of. April didn’t move to Oregon for you – you just happened to live in one of the nicer places left in the country and she decided to retire there on her own. Once Rosetta found out, though, she asked if April would find you, see how you were doing. I think she kept it up on her own because you reminded her of Rosetta. Not that you look or act much like her, but you have the nose and a certain something.”

She paused, then nodded meaningfully at my plate. “We don’t waste food in space. Eat your breakfast, then we’ll talk.”

I turned my attention to my meal. It was like a full English breakfast gone sideways – duck eggs instead of chicken, spicy soy sausages, a pile of fried potatoes, and instead of bread there was a savory version of the dense spookies we’d eaten in our hotel room the night before. There was something like baked beans except they were sticky and stinky as though they’d been fermented, and soaked dried tomatoes were scattered over the eggs instead of fried or fresh on the side. I thought of the chalky mush we'd been served on the Diamond Kiss and ate it all gladly, even the pungent beans.

“I might as well tell you how I know your great-aunt,” Barnaby interjected when I was halfway through my plate. He sounded pleased at the idea, and I sensed he was the sort who loves an audience. “I met Rosetta in the biology program. We were doctoral students, teaching assistants working on our dissertations and spending most of our waking hours at school. I was terrified of her! She was brilliant, wouldn’t take crap from anyone. I’m pretty good at what I do, but she made me feel like a kid wearing dirty diapers next to her.”

Ahn laughed noisily. “Should have known her as an undergrad. She was a hell of a partier before she transferred. April and I weren’t Harvard material,” she added conspiratorially. “Especially since I dropped out to cook in a commune, and April just wanted to teach English to middle schoolers for some godforsaken reason I’ll never understand. I’ll say this for Rosetta though, she didn’t care about things like that. She decided whether to like people by some internal compass I never figured out.”

Barnaby nodded. “Exactly. She spent months answering every question before I could, pointing out the holes in my theories until I was sure she wanted to ruin my academic career. Then she invited me to a party and by the end of the week, she and April and I were a threesome and she’d catapulted my work forward by asking me questions that got me thinking about everything differently. I didn’t last in their bed long, but she and I never really stopped working together. Until she died,” he added sadly.

I took a sip of coffee to wash down my last bite and looked at them both curiously. The last five minutes had taught me more about my great-aunt than I’d learned in the rest of my life, but they hadn’t touched on the one thing I needed most. “Why did she leave everything to me? What am I supposed to do?” I hadn’t planned on being so up front, but if they knew Rosetta had sent for me then I hoped they also knew about the inheritance.

Barnaby made an uncertain noise and Ahn sighed. “My dear,” she said slowly, “Rosetta got cagey toward the end. I wish I could tell you what she wanted, but all I’ve got are bits and pieces. She and her sister always had problems, but there were some things they agreed on passionately and they had some sort of project they were working on together. Then Evelyn started this crazy prophet thing, and Rosetta cut her off and refused to leave New Mexico Prime.” She paused, seeing the look on my face, and added, “She was convinced you’d be able to put everything to rights, wouldn’t listen to reason no matter how much we tried to talk her out of it.”

Barnaby nodded. “That’s when her asterimania got bad. It only seemed to feed her genius before that, but after – well, I think what happened with her sister pushed her over the edge. She never lost her wits, but it became a wall between her and the world.”

I held my coffee below my nose so I could smell it while I considered what they’d said. Rosetta and Evelyn worked together on some massive project; Rosetta cut herself off after her sister turned into a cult leader. There must be something Rosetta didn’t want to destroy, or at least wanted my opinion on before destroying. There was a shape forming in my mind, but I couldn’t tie it together in any way that made sense.

“If they were working on a project together,” I said slowly, “Rosetta’s portion would be something scientific, something to do with biology. Is that right, or did she have other hidden talents?”

Ahn grinned and waggled her penciled eyebrows. “Many hidden talents, but not that sort. I’d bet it had to do with her work. Genetic engineering was her specialty. She worked on big stuff before the war.”

“What about Evelyn, then?” I asked. I knew nothing about my grandmother except that she was a charismatic cult leader with oodles of money and a background in corporate warfare. Just your average nice old lady who fell in with a bad crowd and lost her scruples along the way. “Was she just the money behind the project? What else is she good at?”

“Plotting,” Dove said darkly. “Manipulation.”

“Yes,” Ahn agreed, and shot my bodyguard a thoughtful look. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking Rosetta was an angel. Those sisters both have – had – iron stomachs for bad shit, if they thought the end justified the means. Motivation is where they differed. Evelyn’s all about power, legacy, but Rosetta had bigger goals. None of us ever really knew what her end game was, but I’m sure it wasn’t selfish. Misguided maybe, but not selfish.”

I nodded, then pulled out Rosetta’s letter and spread it out on the table for them to read.

“Ah, Rosetta,” Barnaby said with moist eyes after reading it. “I wonder how much was the madness and how much was her hiding behind it?”

Ahn traced the last few lines thoughtfully. “Table manners are a reference to the Kithari. I can’t say what the rest means, but she wouldn’t drop Potluck lingo like that for nothing.”

That was a new thought. Perhaps there was something she needed me to tell the Kithari? I tucked the note away and gazed at Ahn and Barnaby. “Anything else?” I asked, still hoping for a magical revelation that would make sense of everything.

Ahn patted my hand. “It’s overwhelming to be chosen by Rosetta,” she remarked with the air of someone who understood all too well what that felt like. “Don’t forget this is your life, not hers. For whatever reason, she needed you to take care of things – not her, you.”

“And don’t get buried under the junk she’s hoarded away,” Barnaby added with a chuckle. “You know, she might have figured you were the only person willing to sort through her stuff.”

“He’s messing with you,” Ahn said quickly, seeing the panic on my face. “Rosetta wasn’t a hoarder. A collector, though – yes. Feel free to message us, care of the Bog, if you need advice. We’ll do what we can, won’t we Barns?”

He nodded amiably and they stood as I drained the last of my coffee. Ahn shook her head when I pulled out my card to pay, and made Dove fill a bag full of pastries before she’d let us leave. She whispered with Dove while helping her select rolls and cakes, then gave us both hugs and shooed us out the door.

“Sorry about earlier,” Dove muttered to the bartender as we turned to go.

He shrugged. “Should have warned you,” he told her. “Thought you were her girlfriend, not her bodyguard.”

“No reason she can’t be both,” Ahn called as we slipped out the door, and I heard a chorus of laughter as it jingled shut behind us.