I float down to the dormitory.

“Food,” I say.

The arms pull a box out of their little stash in the ceiling and stick it to my bunk. Someday I should look around in there and see what’s available. For now I kick off the ceiling and float down to the food. The box, labeled day 10—meal 1, has a Velcro-like strip on the bottom that helps it stay in place on the bedsheet. I open it up and see a burrito.

Not sure what I expected, but okay. Burrito it is.

Turns out it’s a room-temperature burrito. Beans, cheese, some red sauce…all pretty tasty, really. But room temperature. Either the crew doesn’t get hot meals around here or the machine doesn’t trust a recent coma patient not to burn himself on hot food. Probably the latter.

***

Chapter 9