"Our technology does not yet replicate complex recipes, or else Teljod would have followed a different vocation. But we can synthesize many basic ingredients. We'll work from samples of your own food."
This was crazy. Wasn't it? But Liam wanted to believe. They all did. "Suppose we're stuck out here for years? You have that much spare feedstock?"
"Well, not exactly."
Bud . . . chortled. "Because they, we, don't need them to. The asteroid we'd go to is nothing like Nugget. This new one is a carbonaceous chondrite. It'll be chock-full of organic compounds, everything from alcohols to simple amino acids. If there's one thing we're equipped to do, it's mine an asteroid."
Mia tipped her head. Pursed her lips. Frowned. Took a deep breath. "Suppose that, in the few hours remaining, experts at home review this scenario and get back to us. They agree it's workable. They agree that if we do this, they'll make best efforts to retrieve us. Given all that, it could be three years or longer before we next see Earth. I'd do it." Another deep breath. "But are you, meaning all of you, prepared to do this?"
"How else," Bud asked, "do I get the quality time on an asteroid I was promised?"
Carlotta, looking wistful, was slower to answer. "Yes. For all the reasons we've come this far. Of course, yes."
Liam, with a nudge against the closest bulkhead, launched himself across the dayroom.
"Well?" Mia prompted. "What do you think you're doing?"
Opening an equipment locker, Liam grabbed his hard-shell suit. "Getting back to work."
****
Grantville Gazette Volume 93 Page 20