The Last Kitchen, Part 10: A Spy in the Kitchen

The Last Kitchen, Part 10 of 26. Gerzsi and friends are made up; the gear is real and independently tested. This post contains affiliate links (disclosure).

Previously: Mo the muskrat honed a dull knife back to life and opened the silver box the ring had dropped. Inside was a pörkölt recipe in Chef Tamás’s own handwriting, dated thirty years in the future. Missed it? Read Part 9 · All parts

Every plan they made, the ring knew about it first. When they planned to go back to the tower, the drones were waiting. When they planned to check the mill again, the mill door was locked from the inside.

“Somebody is telling,” said Reggie, looking at Pippa, because Pippa had won a smart coffee machine in a raffle and everybody knew it.

“That machine is in the metal cupboard!” Pippa shouted. “And it never made coffee anyway!”

Chef Tamás raised a hand. “Nobody accuses anybody. We test.” He walked slowly around the kitchen and whispered a different fake plan next to every object: “We go to the tower at midnight” by the stove, “We go at dawn” by the sink, “We go at noon” by Hazel’s bag.

At noon, the drones came.

Hazel turned her bag upside down. Out fell a shiny smart scale she had brought from the bakery on the first day and forgotten about. Its tiny light was still on. Listening.

Pippa folded her arms. Reggie said sorry three times. Hazel put the scale in the metal cupboard and kept using her plain one.

Then something tapped on the window. Floating outside was a small, round, lime-green alien, about the size of a melon, with three eyes on wobbly stalks and an antenna shaped exactly like a whisk. It wore a tiny chef’s toque, slightly too small. Behind it, on a little hovering platform, stood a gleaming stand mixer with a light glowing inside the bowl.

“Greetings, primitive bakers,” it said, its antenna spinning. “I am the Mixmaster, from the planet Whiskor. First general of the Gadget Lord. That scale was mine.” It patted the mixer with a little tentacle. “And this beauty has a timer and a light in the bowl. It mixes better than any of your tired paws ever will.”

Hazel stepped up to the glass. “It’s a very good mixer,” she said, and meant it. “That’s not the problem. The problem is you’ve never once tasted your own dough.”

All three of the Mixmaster’s eyes blinked, one after another. Nobody had ever said that to it. (Nobody on Whiskor had ever found out where its mouth was, either.) Then it and the mixer zipped off toward the ring.

“First general,” said Tamás quietly. “That means there are more.”

Next: Part 11, tomorrow. Willa waits. Meet the Gadget Lord and his generals →

All parts of The Last Kitchen → · The Black Friday list