It took an hour to find the spot Belinda had told him about. He'd taken to the rooftops to search for it, and the little cul-de-sac was nearly invisible from above. The alley leading to it was narrow and partly roofed, where someone had connected two rows of buildings with rooms between them. The small dead end was likewise hard to see, with buildings that grew wider at the top and used each other for support, their upper levels merging together into a rooftop. Milo finally caught a glimpse of the area below because of the lanterns that ringed the round courtyard. Retracing his steps and dropping to street level, he found the alleyway leading to the cafe Belinda had been taking him to.

The area reminded him of parts of the Hollow. It felt like a smaller cave within the hollow city. Lanterns hung from the ceiling providing bright light. In the center of the courtyard was a statue of a dwarven warrior, most of the details lost to the ages. His outstretched hand pointed at the cafe, and a sign hung from his arm that said, "Every Day is Taco Tuesday." Milo took his advice and went into the little eatery. It was packed with people, and at the back, sitting at a table piled with food was Captain Pike.

"Oi! Look what wandered into my net. Come grab a chair and get some grub with me." He pointed to three people sitting at the table who had been listening to his stories, "You lot! Shift your loads over. Make room for my little buddy." The three sailors hurried to comply.

Milo took one of the seats. "Hi, Skipper. How are the tacos?" If there was one safe topic when talking to Ogres, it was food.

Pike stuffed two more crunchy tacos into his mouth, chewing noisily, swallowing, and belching. "Good grub. Some of the best in the city. Always something different."

"And we are always happy to have you come by, Captain." An older man in an apron brought out two more plates of food, placing a large platter in front of Pike and a smaller plate in front of Milo. "Try a little of each, and let me know what you like. The first is a crispy taco with grilled shark, spicy cave lichen, and pickled vegetables. The round patty is my family's recipe for crab cakes. Next to that is an enchilada with creamy cheese and shrimp filling. Finally, we have a bowl of New England clam chowder."

The Ogre looked at the bowl suspiciously. "I never can figure out half the places you've been, Carlos. Where the hell is New England? For that matter, where's Old England?"

A woman brought Milo a pitcher of sweet tea and filled his glass. "I'd bring you a map of where we're from, but I'm worried you'd sail off to find it, and then I'd lose my best customer."

The Captain patted his large belly. "You're fattening me up. I may need a bigger boat." She laughed and went back to the kitchen.

Milo tried the food on his plate and fell in love with all of it. The little roll of shrimp and cheese was his favorite. He ate until he couldn't fit another bite. Pike grabbed the leftovers and scraped them onto his plate. "Never waste food; you don't know when you might miss a meal and regret it." The Ogre paused in his eating after he finished Milo's food, then picked up his harpoon from the floor next to him. "Thanks for lunch. I have to hustle off. There's a sushi place on the docks that got in some fresh tentacle beast. Good eating if you have a tolerance for the poison. Keep me in mind the next time you go hunting big critters. I have a reputation to grow. Can't stop with just a measly World Boss."

Milo put together Pike, thanking him for lunch with his long-ago offer to foot the bill. Carlos gave him the bill, and Milo paid over the substantial cost along with a good tip. He started to leave, then thought better of it. "Carlos? You and your wife are players?"

Carlos shook his head, "No, not the way you might think. We just enjoy the world. Years ago, I cooked in my grandmother's cantina in Baja California. Then she sold to a large conglomerate, and I went to work for them. My grandmother left me her stock as an inheritance, and then I owned a share of the company. Fifty years later, my wife and I are retired from corporate life and worth enough money to do as we like. So we came here, where the fish is fresh, and they needed someone to cook a new style of food."

"Does the company you owned make food like this?"

His wife came out from the counter. Rosalinda had married Carlos when he was 17 and had her own share of family recipes that she recreated in her kitchen. "Not like this. They have similar recipes, except for the monster parts, but it's all frozen and ready to eat. Quick, but not as tasty."

Milo got the information on the company and memorized it. If the food was even half as good in the real world, he wanted some more of it.

Belinda was groggy as she awoke in her pod, much worse than normal and feeling nauseous. The pod opened, and she saw people in the room with her.

Doctor Silverstein spoke in a low voice as she reached in to disconnect the nutrient tubes, "Easy, go slow. Your blood pressure dropped while you were in the game, and we had to wake you up; we have you stabilized, but you need to relax and let Bart and I move you to a bed." Bart was one of the registered nurses working for the doctor. He easily picked her up and laid her in a mobile hospital bed. She hated the beds.

"I want my chair, please. I'll feel better in it." She couldn't move independently in the bed and was reliant on others.

The Doctor nodded, which meant nothing at all. "We will. Just as soon as we find out what happened. I'm worried about the effect that game has on you. I'm going to run a scan, take some blood samples, and you'll be able to be back in your chair by tomorrow. But no game until I see what's going on."

"That doesn't make sense. You can monitor and scan me using the pod. No matter how many wires you hook me up to, I should be safer in a Mark 7 pod than in a hospital bed."

The doctor sighed. Belinda had heard that sigh a hundred times. It was her way of showing fake regret when she had bad news. "I'm afraid not. There is some worry among the higher-ranked medical professionals that those pods pose some long-term problems in special cases. I have to be careful."

Belinda cocked her head. "Really? What problems? Putting people in pods is the entire purpose of Manpower. Something that makes a pod unsafe affects our business model, not to mention tens of millions of people playing in the game."

"Everyone else isn't my concern Belinda, just you. And I did say special cases. It's very complex, and I don't want to worry you. You should just rest and concentrate on regaining your strength. Your father will be down soon to visit you, and Bart will be in the next room if you need him."

As soon as her doctor left, Belinda put in her earplugs, put the Teletubbies Christmas Singalong Marathon on the monitor, and cranked the sound high. She couldn't hear it and turned the video portion off. Bart hated it, and she played it whenever she could. A laptop was incorporated into her bed, and she swung that in front of her and brought up the company email, telling Uncle Erik that she had invited friends to come by tomorrow and gave him their names to notify security. At least she could visit with people and talk to Milo. She was increasingly convinced that he might be right, which scared her.

She waited for John to come down and visit with her, only half expecting that he would. She wondered what he knew about the supposed problems with the pods.