"Oh, who cares, Pat?" he asked, annoyed."Oh, who cares, Pat?" he asked, annoyed. "Remember that I'm the sort of person who knows exactly what he wants and how to get it?" "While being nice about it," Pat added, smiling. "David, you do what you feel is necessary." David nodded, sipping his coffee. Outside the window port, the star of llerkin loomed large and inviting. Late into second shift, David found himself picking up his bedroom; her realized what he was attempting to accomplish, debated the hopelessness of the situation, and continued anyway. About halfway through folding his "clean" laundry, he realized that he didn't even know where the vaccuum cleaner was onboard. He toggled the intercom. "Pat, Marder, do you know where the vaccuum is?" "Uh, outside?" Marder offered, his voice sounding tinny through the little speaker. "Men," Patricia breathed. "It's in the maintenence closet between mine and Chico's cabins, David. It might need a new filter bag." "Thanks, Pat." He toggled the intercom off again and wandered down the hallway, finding the space Pat had indicated and pulling the small unit out of the closet. A thousand years hadn't altered the face of housecleaning all that much, and David soon found himself listening to the soft hiss of air as he vacuumed the carpeting clean. His room dusted and organized, he soon fell to the even more complicated task of preparing dinner for two. Within ten minutes, he was soon lost on the incredible complexities in the difference between roasting and broiling, flipping back and forth between the glossary and the recipie. Finally he gave up. "Pat, are you free?" "I can be, David. There's not much to do down here." "Good. Could you join me in my cabin? I need help with something. "Can I ask what?" "It's... difficult to explain. Just come up here." "What is it, David?" Patricia asked as she walked through the door. She looked into the kitchen, saw him frantically flipping through a screen, and said "Oh. |