Chapter 16 - (part thirteen)

Lina was methodically rearranging piles on her plate while Daesti, shoveling food into her own mouth, watched curiously.

Daesti paused between bites to pose a rhetorical question. "How long before everyone else notices that you're not eating? *I've* certainly noticed."

Lina shrugged. "I'm worried," she said. "These people have all of our medical information now, Daesti. You don't think they mean to use that against us? And you know as well as I do that our bodysuits keep tabs on our weight and WIDE-AS sends the results to Mim."

Daesti seemed unfazed. "Have a little bite of something, at least." She held up a forkful of food for Lina to sample. "Here, this is delicious. Try a little. Go on."

Lina pushed her hand away. "Everything smells so good," she confided, admitting it to herself as well. "I wasn't paranoid about food before we came here."

It was this paranoia that kept Lina from sampling the fattening fare as Daesti had. She saw its effect on Daesti, and that was enough to dissuade Lina from giving in to its temptations. And the food was having a subtle but evident effect on Daesti--already her body was beginning to lose definition. To be sure, Daesti was certainly still thin in comparison to the residents of Fatropolis, but among skinnies her newfound flabbiness would have been noticeable. And what was more, Daesti's resolve was flagging by the day. It was becoming increasingly difficult to separate her from her food. Only by dint of herculean effort and persuasion could Lina keep Daesti to two meals a day...but for Daesti, those two meals were massive.

It was their tenth day in Fatropolis and Lina had managed to sustain herself while avoiding the high-calorie offerings. But she had to eat *something*, and to starve in a place of lavish excess like this seemed the cruelest irony. So she devised a plan whereby she would go to the Special Orders line and request the blandest food she could think of: tasteless plain flatbread and salad and citrus water, which she was able to obtain under the pretense that these were only garnishments for her real meal, albeit necessary to honor the dining traditions of her homeworld. But these victuals were far from satisfying, and hunger was gnawing at her. The rest of the food she would pawn off on Daesti. She felt terrible about it, but Daesti didn't seem to mind. Lina had to stay trim--the success of their plan depended on her not being slowed down. Daesti, meanwhile, was becoming more of a liability by the day.

While Daesti ate, Lina would move food around aimlessly on her own plate and observe the layout of the tables, the ductwork above, entrances and exits, openings of any kind, and potential hiding places. Whenever an opportunity presented itself to wander about without undue attention, she would stroll the corridors and add to her mental map. Every evening, in the time they had by themselves, she and Daesti would return to Lina's room to discuss these observations and incorporate them into their escape plan. Whenever Daesti's hunger pangs became unmanageable, Lina would allow her plain popcorn or dry crackers. Lina did her best to give Daesti pep talks, reminding her of their as-yet-unrealized plans for skinny-dipping in the azure ocean of Kepler-226; hiking through the rocky foothills of Tartarus-15b; and wild pub-crawls in the space city of New Drogheda; and other escapades yet to be determined.

But now Lina's patience was wearing thin. It ate her up to see Daesti gorging herself. She watched with distaste as Daesti crammed a thickly buttered roll into her mouth.

"We've got to get out of here, like yesterday. We need to push our schedule ahead. I can't just sit around while you're being fattened up like a sow! Mim will have you huge in no time, and then we'll never get out of here!"

"Oh, will you quit nagging! Here we are surrounded by all this incredible food--as much as we can possibly eat, and all for free!--and you're really going to sit there and say I shouldn't have any of it? That's just silly! We'll be out of here in another day or two, tops. Let's enjoy this while it lasts."

Lina sighed. "Maybe *you're* enjoying all this.*I'm* certainly not." She looked at Daesti intently as though studying her for any changes. "I notice you've put on weight already."

"I have not!" shot back Daesti, her mouth still half-full. She looked down at her midsection sheepishly.

"Oh, really?" retorted Lina. "Then what's all this?" In pantomime, she squeezed an imaginary ring of fat around her own waist. "You're going all soft around the middle. Well, go ahead and blow up like an atmospheric probe balloon for all I care. It'll serve you right. But I won't let that happen to me."

Daesti was indignant. "So I put on a couple of kayjees. So what? At least I'm putting in some effort! I'm taking one for our team while I buy us more time! And what are you doing, besides pouting? Are you really that vain that you'd let a little extra weight get in the way of our friendship? I can lose the weight later!" Suddenly Daesti looked apologetic and softened her tone. "I'm trying not to stuff myself, but it's so hard not to! I just don't want to draw too much attention to us. As long as I'm eating, and you're pretending to eat--they'll be happy."

Lina tried not to think of Mim, who, true to her word, had not interfered while they--or at least Daesti--followed the protocol and began working towards the much-vaunted "regulation weight." Lina wondered how long this seeming permissiveness would last. Whenever she saw Mim in passing, the portly directress would look her up and down and frown disapprovingly. She suspected that Mim was toying with her. Lina was sure she was overdue for another scolding.