“A rosemary and parmesan crust, with a sprinkle of saffron,” she said. “Brush some garlic sparkle butter around the edge, and use Marinara Number Nine. Typical toppings for this order. There should be a whiff of rotting rose petals when it first comes out of the oven, but that will dissipate in two seconds, so you’ll have to pay attention, and then it’ll taste just like you’d expect it to.”
“How old it is it?”
Thurston peered out of the trawler’s window at the floating chunk of orbital debris, as he awaited an answer from the newest member of his crew.
“From this far out, it looks to be about…a hundred or so years,” Jiang said. “Largely intact.”
Thurston turned to her. “And no one else has claimed it yet? That’s unlikely.”
“What should I do, boss?” the pilot asked.