The settlement's cooks had been warned ahead of time — Kelvin had seen to it, which meant the kitchens had been preparing since the moment Satou made the announcement. The food that came out was remarkable given how recently they'd been rationing — the newest farming refugees had contributed, the hunters had contributed, even the construction workers had apparently raided their personal food stores in a collective effort that no one had organized and everyone had somehow participated in simultaneously.
Long tables filled the memorial field. Fires burned at intervals. The five hundred fifty-nine markers stood their quiet watch at the field's edge while the living filled the space between with noise and warmth.
Satou moved through the feast differently than he usually moved through public settlement events.
Usually he was working — assessing, planning, receiving reports, tracking problems. The demon lord at the feast was also the administrator of the feast.
