"They injected the Rejection Antibody Enzyme, and the side effects kicked in early."
Rovi's expression remained blank. He wasn't surprised.
The last time he'd asked Priest Alpha, he'd learned that the Antibody Enzyme could remain effective for about 72 Terra Standard Hours.
After that time limit, the recipient's immune system would metabolize and break down the Antibody Enzyme, causing the user to suffer severe withdrawal symptoms, including:
Extreme hunger.
Partial loss of reason.
A tendency to develop pica, among other symptoms.
Intense combat and mental stress had significantly accelerated the breakdown of the Antibody Enzyme, shortening the withdrawal period from the expected 72 hours to just 6.
"Susan." Rovi called without turning around. "Bring the 'feed' over."
The three widows, who had been standing by, turned pale as they pushed over two stainless-steel serving carts.
Five large iron drums sat on the carts.
They were filled with a thick, grayish-brown paste.
This was the "high-energy liquid food" Rovi had specifically asked the Logistics Department to prepare before the operation.
It contained expired compressed rations, cheap industrial saccharin, fat recovered and refined from the sewers, and a large amount of thickening agents.
It was extremely high in calories.
It tasted awful.
It was practically impossible to swallow.
But at that moment, to Buck and the others, it was life-saving nectar.
"Go ahead and eat."
Rovi pointed at the iron drums.
Buck and the three machine gunners nearly threw themselves at them. They didn't even bother taking off their helmets, just plunged their faces into the drums.
"Glorp, glorp."
Rough, ravenous eating sounds filled the room.
Old John tossed aside the chunk of Corpse Wax Coal in his hand and scrambled toward another drum.
Using both hands, he shoved the thick paste down his throat. He gagged until his eyes rolled back,