"Mashed dehydrated potatoes, canned meat and canned vegetables," Carr replied. "Not very appetizing. I know, but I'm afraid it's all we can allow you to eat."
I took the cover off the dessert dish.
"Dried fruits!" I said in disgust.
"Rather excessively dried, I'm sorry to say," the manager agreed mournfully.
I sipped the blue stuff in a glass and almost spat it out. "Powdered milk! Are these things what you people have to live on?"
"No, our diet is quite varied," Carr said in embarrassment. "But we unfortunately can't give you any of the foods we normally eat ourselves."
"And why in blazes not?"
"Please eat, Mr. Weldon," Carr begged with frantic earnestness. "There's so much to explain—this is part of it, of course—and it would be best if you heard it on a full stomach."
I was famished enough to get the stuff down, which wasn't easy; uninviting as it looked, it tasted still worse.
When I was through, Carr pushed several buttons on the glowing menu. Dishes came up from an opening in the center of the table and he showed me the luscious foods they contained.