The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers, #4)

by Becky Chambers

Pei winced. ‘No,’ she said to Speaker. ‘It’s not for kids. I mean, kids eat it, too, but . . . so do adults.’ Everyone present – with the exception of Pei – let out a reflexive sound. There were low growls from Ouloo and Tupo, a short trill from Speaker. Roveg, for his part, let out a triple-clicked hiss. A brief cacophony of varied species all communicating the exact same thing: complete and utter disgust. ‘No,’ Ouloo said. Tupo cooed in fascinated horror. ‘Wait, so, how . . .’ Speaker made a hesitant face. ‘I’m going to regret this question. How is it . . . prepared?’ Pei grimaced. ‘They take the milk, they add some ingredients – don’t ask me, I have no idea what – and then pour the mess into a . . . a thing. I don’t know. A container. And then . . .’ She shut her eyes. ‘They leave it out until bacteria colonise it to the point of solidifying.’ The cacophony returned. ‘I knew I’d regret it,’ Speaker said. Roveg laughed and laughed. ‘I’m so glad I asked about this,’ he said.