“The kitchen is in here," she said, pushing open a large steel door. Vance stepped in and surveyed it: all the fixtures needed for a mess that served several hundred people three meals daily. In fact, it looked as though the evening's cleanup operation had been halted in mid-wash. Dirty pots sat cold on the big industrial stoves, and piles of half-peeled vegetables were on the wide aluminum tables. The storage lockers, refrigerators, and freezers were located across the room, opposite.
"By the way." He had a sudden thought. 'This place must have TV monitors somewhere, am I right? Every other place here does."
"Well, you're right and you're wrong. It does, but they're on the blink. It always seemed like a stupid idea anyway, almost like spying, and then one day somebody just cut the wires. Probably one of the cooks. I never bothered getting them fixed. I just couldn't think of any good reason to bother."
"Well, for once laziness paid off. Maybe we're safe here for a while." He had opened the freezer. "Hello, Lady Luck has decided to get with the program." He was pulling out two thick steaks. "Care to join me?"
"Those are there for Bill," she noted, then laughed. "I'd still rather have a pizza, but I don't guess he'll mind if we dip into his private stock."
"So I repeat the question." He was already unwrapping two, both thick.
"Yes, of course. I'm famished." She shivered. "And I also wouldn't mind a set of dry clothes."
"Maybe one of these will warm you up." He was popping the steaks into a gleaming white microwave for a quick thaw.
"Right."
"And while dinner is coming along, how about drawing me a diagram of what's up there. Maybe we can go up later, take a look around."