She nodded, accepting his statements. "Here. You eat you this. Put some stuffing in you belly."
He ate, not caring what the food tasted like. He didn't speak, and neither did she, for which he was thankful. Conversation during a meal would have been both meaningless and painful to him.
It was odd to think that, in a way, a Class Six had more freedom than he did. Presumably, she could talk, if she wanted, even during a meal.
And he was glad that she had not tried to eat at the same time. To have his food cooked and served by a Six didn't bother him, nor was he bothered by her hovering nearby. But if she had sat down with him to eat—
But she hadn't, so he dropped the thought from his mind.
Afterwards, he felt much better. He actually hadn't realized how hungry he had been.
She took the dishes out and returned almost immediately.
"You thought what you going to do?" she asked.
He shook his head. He hadn't thought. He hadn't even wanted to think. It was as though, somewhere in the back of his mind, something kept whispering that this was all nothing but a very bad dream and that he'd wake up in his cubicle aboard the Naipor at any moment. Intellectually, he knew it wasn't true, but his emotional needs, coupled with wishful thinking, had hamstrung his intellect.
However, he knew he couldn't stay here. The thought of living in a Class Six environment all the rest of his life was utterly repellent to him. And there was nowhere else he could go, either. Even though he had not been tried as yet, he had effectively been Declassified.