<And one image shows a particularly satisfied scientist with a fork and knife, and a plate full of oddly delicious-looking meat>
"Paul finally figured out how to make some of the less critical parts of it edible. Go figure. You might want to double check the mess halls later."
So, let's see what I can do with this...
"So... remember when I mentioned how jealous I was that we didn't have the technology to imitate human taste or smell?"
"You said that a week ago, yes, Adrianna. Did your opinion change?"
"Potentially..."
Richard tried to ignore the peanut gallery of the AI Sisters peering down from screens in the mess hall, as he sat down at one of the tables with more than a little trepidation. His fellow human pilots took their places next to him, their eyes all fixed on the doorway to the kitchens.
Behind the closed doors, he could hear the sizzling and whooshing of stovetops going at full blast, and his nose twitched at the strange smell wafting out from behind it. It was like nothing he'd ever smelled before, definitely spicy and smoky like a high-grade steakhouse, but with some sort of astringent tang that made his nose twitch. Already he could feel his stomach rumble, then pause, then rumble again, as if it couldn't even figure out whether to be hungry or not.
"So, how do you like your steak?"
Richard side-eyed Oscar. His fellow lieutenant was sitting up straight, trying to put on a stoic front, but Rich could see the pensive set to his jaw and the trepidation flickering in his eyes.
"If I answer well-done, are you going to drag me to the Proving Grounds?" Rich replied slowly.
"If this were anywhere else, maybe. But considering what we're going to eat?" Oscar shook his head. "Maybe grilling all the acidity and toxins out is the right idea..."
"What are you so worried about, boys?" Xiu Ying spoke up. The older woman was in remarkably good spirits, rubbing her hands together and staring eagerly at the kitchens. "Can't you smell it cooking? I already know it's gonna turn out great!"
Richard and Oscar exchanged looks. "How can you be so sure?" Oscar asked his co-pilot.
"I was there during one of Paul's cooking experiments; the guy may be one of the kookier kooks, but he knows his way around food. Told me he's grilled more exotic meat than this, and showed me a steak from livestock from his family farm to prove it."
"... doesn't his family own an emu farm?"
Xiu Ying raised an eyebrow. "What's your point? Just be happy he's grilling it and not air-frying it. That one didn't turn out so well."
Oscar huffed out a breath. "This is gonna be some crazy carnival..."
"Don't you mean 'insane', Tellison? We'll be eating kaiju meat, for God's sake!" Jessica groaned, her normally fiery attitude gone in favor of pure dread. "Why am I even a part of this anyway?"
"Because we're all DFRI pilots," Xiu Ying answered, clapping the cadet on the back. "When challenges come, the best thing to do is present a united front to face whatever comes our way!"
"And because this was supposed to be a steak dinner reward for all our latest missions, and it'd be lousy to refuse," Rich pointed out.
"And because we outrank you," Oscar added.
As Jessica moaned and thumped her head on the table, a boisterous voice came from outside. "Hey, when you're done eating, mind describing how it tastes? It's not like we can experience it for ourselves!"
"Slag off, Charlie," Jessica growled. "Or I'll put this thing through the Kausen shard processor and feed you the result. And the Thunderbolt is a lot faster than you, last I checked."
The heavily armored Bulwark IFV nervously ducked out of line of sight.
It was at this point that the whooshing settled down, and the kitchen doors burst open. Through a haze of steam, the scientist Paul came striding out, labcoat buttoned up like chef's whites, pride oozing from every pore, and a manic gleam in his eyes that would've made his bosses beam. Pushed along in front of him was a full on dinner cart, loaded down with four cloche-covered plates.
As he approached, the smell coming from beneath the covers grew even stronger, and now Richard could distinctly pick out the sharp acidity within it. Almost unbidden, his mind flashed back to the aftermath of the San Diego Kaiju attack and the puddles of acid splashed everywhere dissolving metal and stone, and he fought to keep the smell out of his memory.
As Paul walked past the pilots, he began unloading the plates from the cart and setting them in front of the pilots. "Gentlemen and ladies," he announced as he went, "today I serve you the fruits of several years of experimentation, hard work, and a dream. A dream that one day, after all the Kaiju have taken from us, we could rise up and do the same to them. For too long, they have torn at our bodies, feasted on our land and flesh, and drank up our tears and screams. As our champions, you all have torn back at them, cut your pounds of flesh from their hides, and today, you will
feast on that bounty!"
Jessica leaned over to whisper to Xiu Ying. "Do I want to know how long he's been practicing this speech?"
Paul probably didn't hear her as he walked back the way he came, lifting the cloches from each plate. "May I present to you, four homegrown Dragon's Horn prime cuts, fed off the dulcet tones of Anthrax and Cattle Decapitation, dry-aged for thirty days, tenderized with bicarbonate of soda, just barely seasoned with plain salt and pepper, and finally grilled till medium rare. Served alongside..."
Rich barely heard what veggies Paul was describing, and he barely even noticed them as he stared down at his plate. Every ounce of his attention was taken up by the well-grilled, steaming, sizzling cut of meat on his plate. Intellectually, he knew exactly where it had come from - chopped off a draconic, acid-spitting monstrosity, then carved and grown into its own piece - but it was not some alien-looking chunk of neon-green meat that glowed in the dark and melted the patterns off chinaware. Rather, it looked just like any prime steak cut that one would find in a high-grade restaurant, with the only indication of its origins the sharp acidic smell. And even that was mingling with the scent of nicely-grilled, juicy meat to form a unique,
tantalizing odor.
Rich's mouth was watering despite himself.
"... and no sauce, because I want you to
savor the flesh and blood of your enemies, know that you have triumphed over them, and revel in the knowledge that the predators of humanity are now our
prey," Paul finished, practically raising one fist to the sky as his monologue came to a close. "Enjoy your feast, and please let me know how you feel afterwards, because turning our foes into nutritious meals is all part of Science!"
"Thank you, my brethen! And now,
bon appetit!" And with that, Paul strode off, cackling gleefully to himself under his breath. The last thing Rich heard before he walked out of earshot was "Kick me out of culinary school, why don't you...!"
Xiu Ying inhaled deeply. "Yup, that's a good cut right there!" she said eagerly, already cutting into her piece.
Slowly, the others followed her lead. The cut was
tender, as Rich's knife slid right through it with hardly any resistance. Considering its acidic origins, he couldn't bring himself to be surprised. He held the piece up to his eye, half-expecting the insides to be some strange alien color, but they were as red and juicy as any steak he'd ever seen before.
Beside him, he heard Oscar say, "Well, gānbēi, I guess," before taking a bite. Rich did the same before he could second-guess himself out of his choice, and he could hear the women follow suit.
All at once, his eyes blew wide and he heard the others gasp, as the flavor flooded his tongue. It was-
And I'll just let you all imagine what it tastes like!
Hey, I don't even know what color the kaiju are; do you really expect me to describe its flavor?
Don't ask me how this got past Devin and the other higher-ups, I'm just here to imagine and have fun!
And one last bit for the road:
As he watched the consumption from outside with his fellow Super AIs, Ichiro couldn't help but ponder out loud, "So... do you think Dr. Sheol also does this if he's feeling peckish?"
Ichiro figured that if his siblings were human, their appalled looks at him would've been a whole lot worse.
