New Caviar

By Stephany Brandt

It's a delectable treat enjoyed only by the wealthiest in society, but no one knows what New Caviar is made of. Two people will follow different journeys to arrive at the same truth:

Daryl lives in a secluded facility filled only with people under age twenty. He times his life to the bells that tell him when to eat, exercise, and converse with other people, and he always dreams of food--except when the headaches hit...

Nancy's husband wants to put on a party all their society friends will be jealous of. On the list for the special day? New Caviar. Nancy must find a way to purchase the enigmatic product in time for the big event.

As Daryl and Nancy face their personal challenges, they must both confront the truth about the mysterious dish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephany Brandt
• Release date: Jan 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780998709314

Stephany Brandt

Stephany (Steph) Brandt is a speculative science fiction author based in Oregon, and their novels are set in the Pacific Northwest both in present and future times. They focus on tales in our near future that delve deeper into the nature of good and evil, discuss what it's like to be an outsider, and explore the nature of love during trying times.They are heavily influenced by writers like NK Jemisin, Martha Wells, Ursula K. LeGuin, Robert A. Heinlein, Stephen King, and Stephen Baxter.Their current titles include Here, Perfect, Darkness, and Wilderness, as well as numerous short stories. They received their creative writing training at the University of Oregon.Steph lives in Eugene, Oregon with a pug from another planet.They are also owned by their writing room and travel companion: the 1985 Volkswagen Van "Henry."

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Copyright © 2019 Stephany Brandt

eBook Edition

All Rights Reserved

First Electronic Edition, 2019

Electronic Edition, License Notes:

Thank you for purchasing New Caviar. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase a copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.

New Caviar is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Thank you for your support.

Published in the United States by Vicious Bunny Press, LLC

viciousbunnypress.com

Cover Design Copyright 2019 by Stephany Brandt & Ida Jansson, Amygdala Design. amygdaladesign.net

ISBN: 978-0-9987093-1-4 (ebook)

For Tobin and Dad

Chapter Directory

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

About the Author

1

Daryl followed the yellow path. People in matching yellow jumpers and white tennis shoes came out of their rooms and joined him in line, walking together to the cafeteria in a giant mass of bodies. Everyone knew the rules: Yellow people walked to the right, Blue ones in the middle, and Red ones on the left. You stayed in your line, or else the proctors picked you out and took you away. No one knew what happened after a proctor tapped you on the shoulder, and Daryl didn't want to find out.

A tall boy in the Blue line with blinding white-blonde hair bumped Daryl’s shoulder, but Daryl lowered his eyes and said nothing. So did the boy in blue—not even an I'm sorry. Daryl figured he was just as afraid of the proctors, so they each did their best to carry on without drawing attention. The Blue fellow walked ahead of Daryl down the doorless concrete corridor to the cafeteria, while Daryl stared at the Blue's massive back. Has to eat a lot to maintain that frame, Daryl thought to himself: the boy was at least six foot four, perhaps over two hundred pounds. Daryl remembered the Blue from earlier cafeteria walks, but hadn't seen the big guy for a week or so until today, when he joined the crowd walking clumsily down the hallway.

As the group got closer to the cafeteria’s arched concrete doorway, a buzz surrounded all the teens no matter what their color; they could smell the food from behind the swinging entry doors. Daryl saw a girl across the hall in the Red line smiling and tapping her fingers against the side of her leg as she walked. Her head stood in relief against the red, blue and yellow-striped arrow painted on the concrete walls, directing people towards the cafeteria. She carefully avoided bumping into any of the other Reds ahead or behind her, and moved with a smooth grace—anticipating the actions of people like she was telepathic.

Daryl wished he was telepathic, and some days he felt a pressure in his head that made him think he might be; it often turned into a headache, and then he'd have to lie down for a while. The migraines were the worst, but the Company didn't seem to mind when he missed exercise duty for one of his headache days. Daryl’s gratitude knew no bounds that today wasn't one of them—his stomach felt about ready to cave in with hunger and the sweet smell from behind the cafeteria doors called him like the Sirens.

His stomach growled mightily and Daryl looked around to see if anyone heard it, rubbing at his midsection while the aching gnawed at his innards. The light sugary smell deepened with the scent of bacon and Daryl's stomach twisted in a feeling of hunger so extreme it almost made him sick.

The large doorway loomed ahead of Daryl and he felt his pulse quicken. Beyond those sterile white doors was the cafeteria, and the food line where he'd get his badly-needed breakfast. A cold sweat broke over Daryl's back and his limbs felt like they were shaking, even though he could tell they were still. He prayed the hunger fit wouldn't turn into one of his headaches as he watched the arch pass above his head.

You never knew what breakfast might be on any given day; everyone got food from their color-coded line, and no one went to the wrong line or else the proctors picked you up. Daryl occasionally snuck peeks as the Blues and Reds left to their own color-segregated cafeterias, but most of the time he was too busy eating the meal he’d received from the Yellow line.

Yellows usually got some kind of bread product for all meals. Breakfasts were often things like pancakes, waffles, or sweet buns, and there was also some kind of fruit, a cup of