Escrima looked around the hotel kitchen. From the gleaming equipment on display, and the delicious aromas permeating the air, this was the kitchen of a world-class restaurant. It was a rare Legion mess sergeant who'd had the opportunity to actually prepare food...

            Most of the odors were familiar. There was garlic and bay leaf, peppers and onions, tomatoes, the blander aromas of rice and beans in simmering pots. There was also meat, possibly several different kinds, being roasted, grilled, stewed, and sauteed. This last aroma Escrima could not identify, which puzzled him. Evidently it was some indigenous meat. But it was almost unheard of for humans to be able to eat the flesh of a local animal.

            Well, he'd find out. He had an appointment with the hotel's head chef-who was somewhat apprehensive about turning his kitchen into a Legion mess hall. Escrima was here to cure him of that preconception.

            He walked over and took the lid off a simmering pot for a closer look. The contents was a spicy stew, with savory meat and onions-and more. He was looking around for a spoon to taste a sample when a voice behind him said, "Ah, would you be the Army cook?"

            "Not Army, Space Legion," said Escrima, doing his best to keep his voice from snapping at the newcomer, who was dressed in the traditional chef's hat and white apron. "I'm Sergeant Escrima, Food Preparation Specialist E-9, here to inspect the facilities. You've been told that we're going to be sharing the kitchen."

            "Yes, Sergeant," said the chef. "This will be a very...ah, interesting...experience, I think."

            "You're telling me?" said Escrima. "I got an appetite just walking into this kitchen. If the Legion won't eat this stuff, they ought to be checked for signs of life. I can see there's a whole new cuisine for me to learn. What do you call this dish?"

            "Nutria jambalaya," said the cook. "One of our Creole-style dishes. We also have sweet and sour nutria with bingo beans, and nutria parmigiana on the menu tonight."

            "Nutria?" Escrima was puzzled. "That must be the meat, but I don't recognize the name. Is it vat-grown?"

            "No, no, you have missed it completely," said the cook, smiling. "Nutria is our most famous animal, imported from Earth by the Moguls. In their day, it was rare, and as expensive as horse or pompano. But the nutria thrived in the lowland swamps, and now the animal is so common that it has become our major indigenous source of protein."

            "An Earth animal," said Escrima. "That should be good, then-when there's real meat locally, I'll almost never use vat protein. What kind of animal is it?"

            "Game, sergeant," said the sergeant. "Has a very robust flavor, goes nicely roasted or in a spicy sauce. Very versatile, like chicken or cow, but much cheaper. The jambalaya won't really be ready until I add the rice to the meat and vegetables. But this will give you an idea of how it will taste."

            Escrima filled a spoon and tasted. "Excellent," he said. "You're right, that meat will fit a lot of places-this dish will have 'em lining up for seconds. If it really is cheaper than chicken, the troops are going to eat a lot of this nutria.

            The cook smiled. "Trust me, Sergeant, once you've gotten used to nutria, you'll be using it in all your recipes."

            "Well, no time like the present," said Escrima. "Why don't you show me what else you're cooking tonight?"

            Within minutes, the two chefs were comparing notes on spices and discussing the best local sources for fresh produce. The undercooks listened in growing awe to a pair of culinary artists picking each other's brains. The food was going to be even better than usual that evening...