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Chapter 3

           "Don’tyoulikethesmell?"

           "Likeisn’tthewordI’duse.Itsmells…weird."

           "Nomannersatall.Isthatanywaytothankmeforboilingamorningpotofcoffeeforus?"

           "That’s…coffee?"

           "Sureis."

           "Thisisn’tyourwayofgettingbackatmefortheumeboshi,isit?"

           "No,thisiswhatroastedcoffeebeanspickedfromactualcoffeetreesthatgrewinthegroundsmelllike.Neverhadany?"

           "Ihaveacupoftheartificialslopeveryday."

           "JustwaittillIbrewit.Youain’tsmellednothin’yet."

           Ididn’tknowtherewereanynaturalcoffeebeansleftintheworld.Thatis,Isuspectedrealcoffeestillexisted,somewhere,butIdidn’tknowtherewasanyonestillinthehabitofdrinkingit.

           Thebeveragethatpassedforcoffeethesedayswasmadefromlab-grownbeanswithartificialflavoringaddedfortasteandaroma.Substitutegroundsdidn’tsmellasstrongasthebeansRitawasgrinding,andtheydidn’tfighttheirwayintoyournoseanddownyourentirerespiratorytractlikethesedid,either.Isupposeyoucouldextrapolatethesmelloftheartificialstuffandeventuallyapproachtherealthing,butthedifferenceinimpactwaslikethedifferencebetweena9mmhandgunanda120mmtankshell.

           "Thatmustbeworthasmallfortune,"Isaid.

           "ItoldyouwewereonthelineinNorthAfricabeforewecamehere.Itwasagiftfromoneofthevillageswefreed."

           "Somegift."

           "Beingqueenisn’tallbad,youknow."

           Ahand-crankedcoffeegrindersatinthemiddleoftheglasstable.

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