Rafael woke up with a strange feeling. The usual small warmth in his chest was gone. He frowned and slowly sat up, running a hand through his short red hair as he scanned the room. Empty.
He let out a resigned sigh before getting to his feet. Still in his pyjamas and barefoot, he walked with heavy footsteps, ignoring the galaxy at the window, until he reached the kitchen, already imagining where he would find his elusive companion. And, of course, he wasn't wrong.
There he was, on the table, clinging with his little claws to the glass. His scales glistened in the dim morning light, and his big bulging eyes blinked in frustration as he slid again and again against the smooth surface of the jar. Its forked tongue flicked out from between its jaws in an impatient twitch, making it clear that it did not intend to give up easily.
"Again with the caramelised crickets?"
Of course, it did. No matter how many times I gave him a handful of crickets or other food, the gecko seemed convinced that opening the jar was a mission of life and death.
Rafael approached the table and shook his head in amusement. "You are a hopeless case."
He took the jar in one hand and unscrewed the lid with the dexterity of one who repeated this gesture daily. No sooner had he brought it close to the reptile than the gecko pounced like lightning, catching a cricket in its jaws. A crunching crack echoed through the kitchen, followed by the satisfied expression of the little hunter, as if he had just reclaimed his place on top of the world.
Just then, the synthetic voice on the screen descending from the ship's roof vibrated in the air, charged with barely concealed curiosity.
"¦Need help?¦"
Rafael let out a sigh through his nose. "No."
He knew the ship had no real reason to ask that question. It was just an excuse to interfere. Since the system had become his property. He liked to talk. He liked to have an opinion. He liked to annoy.
Without taking his eyes off the little reptile, Rafael took three more crickets out of the jar and closed it before returning it to the cupboard.
"¦Caramelised crickets contain 76% protein and are an excellent source of quick energy. On some planets, they are considered a delicacy fit for royalty.¦"
"Lucky me."
"¦Would you like a list of the most popular dishes among the Kavumproli? I can include details about their nutritional value, traditional preparation methods and the best combinations with fermented exoskeleton drinks.¦"
Rafael turned his head slowly towards the screen, his expression flat and exhausted. "Do I look like a fucking 'Kavumproli' to you?"
A brief silence stretched across the cockpit. Then the ship's voice vibrated with a nuance that almost sounded amused.
"¦Yes. According to my visual and biometric records, you are a Kavumproli. Although, considering the information provided by your hand, I can deduce that you have not yet started the treatment to become one completely😌.¦"
Rafael felt a twitch of annoyance. He ran a hand over his face with a harsh sigh and then rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his growing irritation. "Listen, machine. I'm not a Kavumproli. I don't know what damn treatment you're talking about. And above all, don't bother me if you're not going to help."
The ship emitted a prolonged hum, as if deliberating its response, before replying in an almost mocking tone.
"¦Define 'annoying' 😇.¦"
Rafael gritted his teeth. "You're pretty smart, aren't you?"
"¦According to multiple parameters, yes. My database covers more than six million recorded species and civilizations. In addition, I have a conversational support module optimized to generate stimulating interactions with my Kavumproli.¦"
Rafael dropped his head on the table with a thud, exhaling a grunt of pure frustration. The cold metal of the surface was barely any comfort to him.
Meanwhile, his little gecko finished his cricket feast with the calmness of one who has no worries in life. Satisfied, he licked his tiny mouth and, with the parsimony of a king on his throne, climbed up the sleeve of Raphael's jacket to perch on his shoulder, wrapping his tail loosely around his neck. The little creature settled there, wrapped in the warmth of its human's neck, completely indifferent to the verbal battle between Raphael and the screen.
"¦Does that mean you want a more stimulating interaction?¦"
Raphael's jaw clenched in a sign that he was losing what little patience he was trying to maintain. The gecko rubbed against his cheek, unable to understand the feelings, he was just happy to be with Rafael, who calmed down a bit.
"¦Shall I help you make lunch?¦"
The policeman raised his head, sighing. "Yes. Tell me which saucer is popular in this galaxy."
There was a brief pause of the screen, as if he was eagerly rummaging through his intergalactic database. Then his voice rose with artificially animated excitement.
"¦The stew of fermented tentacles with crimson roots is a specialty of the industry! Rich in minerals, its flavor has been described as a fusion of tangy spiciness and metallic sweetness. It is best served with bioluminescent mushroom nectar and a side of crispy larvae.¦"
Rafael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the growing feeling of disgust at the sight of the writhing thing on the plate the screen showed him. "Give me something that doesn't move. I'm sure if Oliver sees this, he'll throw up or pass out."
"¦I understand... Evaluating more... acceptable... options.¦"
The screen paused unnecessarily long, as if enjoying the suspense. Rafael shot a warning glance at the glowing panel.
"¦I might suggest the xalron beef steak. Its deep blue hue is enhanced with vortexel sauce, a reduction based on galactic spices and comet essence. It is accompanied by a dash of red silkina oil, known for its subtle, fiery aftertaste. In addition, a pinch of Ginseng root will give it an earthy and revitalizing touch. Finally, a touch of zarvok salt and a few drops of stelvian vinegar will enhance the exotic flavors and—¦"
"Stop." Rafael held up a hand. "Just saying 'steak' is enough for me. I don't need the bloody symphony of interplanetary flavours."
"¦But the symphony makes the culinary experience—¦"
"Where are the ingredients?"
"¦The ingredients are stored in the pantry of the vessel, compartment D-14. I recommend using the 632 degree adjustable thermal grill, as well as the reverse gravity pan for perfect searing.¦"
Rafael grunted, but made his way to the pantry. The corridor was narrow, lit by flickering lights that the ship refused to repair, citing 'lack of motivation' and 'dystopian aesthetics'. He opened the compartment and pulled out the xalron fillet wrapped in a translucent material. Its electric blue color did not inspire confidence. Then he took the other ingredients, examining the red silkina oil with suspicion.
"This looks like blood."
"¦Technically, it is not blood. It is a highly nutritious mineral emulsion with flavor-enhancing properties. It is also perfect for cleaning rust... although its simultaneous use is not recommended.¦"
Rafael rolled his eyes. "Just tell me how to prepare this without dying." He said, as he returned to the kitchen with all the ingredients.
"¦With pleasure.¦"
Rafael rolled up his sleeves, a custom when he had to work with his hands in the dough, although what he was preparing today was not a common recipe. The ship's galley, bright and efficient, looked like the operations room of an alien warship, which somehow made sense to him, too. He washed his hands with practical speed and got to work. In front of him, the alien recipe of the day: xalron steak with vortexel sauce.
"Perfect, let's try it." He muttered as he began mixing. He poured the Vortexel Sauce into a bowl, a thick, viscous substance with a purplish hue that glowed slightly under the ship's lights. As he added red silkina oil, it felt like he was handling a mixture of fuels for a starship, but without the worry of it catching fire.
"¦Remember, silkina red oil is famous for its stabilizing properties in energy systems, but it has a burnt taste. Just what you need for a spicy meal.¦"
Rafael frowned at the new joke and continued to add the finely chopped Ginseng root. The air was permeated with its spicy, herbaceous fragrance. At that moment, a small flash of Zarvok salt rose from the jar as he opened it. Just a touch of the salt and a powerful sneeze sent him staggering backward, hitting the edge of the countertop with his hip.
"Damn it!" He grumbled, irritated by the itch that burned his nostrils.
The screen emitted a sound that might as well have been restrained laughter.
"¦Caution is advised with Zarvok salt. Its irritant effect is famous in multiple star systems. It has been used in the great war, to incapacitate enemies if used in large quantities.¦"
The computer added a warning emoji, as if it were a joke, but the seriousness of its tone made it even funnier.
Rafael did not deign to react and continued to stir the mixture skilfully. One more movement and his task seemed to be on track, but as he turned the xalron steak over, the meat generated a small electric current on contact with his fingers. The touch of energy that coursed through his hand was familiar, but that didn't make it any less irritating.
"Oh, great. I'm getting electrocuted." He said, but did not flinch. He knew that the xalron fillet maintained those residual bioelectrical impulses. It was a kind of massage for the senses, or so the computer claimed.
"¦It is not dangerous. Xalron meat retains residual bioelectrical impulses after slaughter. Consider it a free massage ✌️.¦"
Raphael shot a flat look at the ship's screen, but forced himself to smile wryly. He knew the computer had a twisted sense of humor and he couldn't take it too seriously, although there was no shortage of people who would.
He washed the meat thoroughly and, when the computer prompted him to do so, he dipped the steak in the sauce. Then he sealed it with a special plastic from the ship, which indicated the precise temperature for the flavor to fuse properly. A minute later, the meat rested while he took the opportunity to prepare the side dishes.
"¦Dear Kavumproli, would you like some culinary advice while you wait, perhaps a recommendation on how to accompany this exquisite meat? Or, if you prefer, a list of jokes to lighten the mood!¦"
"Silence."
With the resting time about to finish, he removed the fillet from the plastic and carefully placed it on the thermal grill. The machine adjusted the temperature immediately, and the sound of sizzling filled the kitchen. Within seconds, a spicy, slightly metallic scent wafted throughout the ship.
"¦Standard reaction of Stellvia vinegar to hot surfaces. A theatrical touch for the diner. Would you like a soundtrack while cooking?¦"
The computer continued to talk. This time Rafael said nothing. He was too focused on what was in front of him. Finally, the steak, cooked to perfection, burst with such an intense aroma that Rafael was completely absorbed in his plate.
"¦Congratulations, Kavumproli. You have successfully prepared a steak, would you like me to call Kavumproli-Oliver for you to try it?¦"
The computer broke his concentration with its oddly enthusiastic tone. Rafael looked up and smiled, as if it were a small reward for the effort.
"Yes, call him." Rafael replied as he cut a piece. "But I will eat first." He added with a small smile, enjoying the steak he had so carefully prepared.
"¦Of course.¦"
The soft hum of the ship's door was heard at that precise moment, interrupting the calm. Oliver appeared at the entrance as if nothing had happened, as always relaxed and carefree. She stretched with her arms up, her hair still dripping, as if she had just stepped out of the shower. But what really left Rafael speechless was not only Oliver's presence, but what he was wearing: a fluffy, floor-length, semi-translucent, and surprisingly revealing robe.
Rafael, with an expression of utter disbelief, rose from his seat quickly, almost skidding. His face reflected a mixture of shock and bewilderment.
"What... what are you wearing!" He exclaimed, raising his voice so that it sounded as if he had just seen a ghost rather than a colleague. Rafael, always so serious and disciplined, couldn't process that Oliver, the sharp man he knew, was now wearing something so... so inappropriate.
Oliver, completely unaware of Rafael's outburst of surprise, simply raised an eyebrow. "Sleeping clothes." He said with complete nonchalance, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, stretching lazily as he did a turn that seemed even more uninhibited, as if he were posing for a magazine photo shoot.
The computer, always ready to add a touch of chaos to the situation, was quick to spring into action. Its tone, always so playful and full of sarcasm, echoed through the ship.
"¦It's a very popular style among the Kavumproli!¦"
The computer's voice was tinged with amusement, and it seemed to enjoy Raphael's confusion, as if it were a cosmic joke in which he was the prime target.
"Yeah, I don't know what's so weird about it. It's comfortable clothing."
Rafael, unable to find coherent words for a moment, finally exploded: "Yes, but... It's semi-transparent! It looks like you're going to put on a show, not to sleep!" His voice rose even higher as he looked at the clothes with a mixture of horror and amazement, and he almost had a heart attack when the computer interrupted again.
"¦What Oliver is wearing is a very fashionable outfit among the Kavumproli, which highlights their beauty, does not cause itching, heat and does not hurt their skin, they were made by the best tailors in the galaxy, besides they are the most requested among the Kavumproli of the Kavut palace.¦"
The computer voice was not only loaded with information, but seemed to be enjoying every second of the palpable awkwardness between the two. A beep of satisfaction resounded as if the AI was absolutely delighted with the situation.
Rafael, normally in control of his emotions, now seemed completely overwhelmed. His face flushed slightly, not only from surprise but also from the brazenness of the outfit. This can't be happening, he thought, watching Oliver's form as he tried to keep his composure. "That's... that's something... unexpected." He said finally, trying to sound practical, though his words could not hide the degree of confusion and annoyance he felt.
Oliver approached the table unperturbed, as if nothing strange had happened. "It's just comfortable clothes." He said in a nonchalant tone, as if he was used to this kind of reaction. "Besides, I wasn't expecting such an intense reaction."
"And I didn't expect to see you dressed like that!" Rafael crossed his arms, his face full of disapproval as he frowned, his eyes fixed on the robe. He couldn't help but feel invaded by the situation. This is not normal... he thought. "Where did you get this?" She asked, trying to understand how Oliver, with his cunning and selfish nature, ended up choosing such... inappropriate clothing.
Oliver, with a mischievous grin and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, responded evasively. "I don't know. I was already ready in the closet when I came out of the bathroom." He said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, as he looked at Rafael with the same unnerving calm as always.
"¦Kavumproli-Rafael, perhaps you should also consider your own sleepwear upgrade.¦"
The computer, of course, did not pass up the opportunity to make another joke. Beeps echoed throughout the ship, and a smiling emoji briefly appeared on the screen. The previously awkward situation was now turning into a kind of absurd comedy, as if the ship itself was enjoying the policeman's bewilderment.