Page 23 of Reluctantly Abducted
He turns at the sound of the door, a small metal implement in his hand that he's using to manipulate something in a heating vessel. His eyes meet mine, and he offers a sleepy smile that creates an unexpected ripple of bioluminescence beneath my skin.
"Morning," he says, his voice rougher than usual. "Or whatever you call it here. Hope I didn't wake you."
"You did not," I reply, moving closer to inspect what he's doing. "What are you making?"
"Omelet," he says, using the implement to fold a yellow substance over on itself. "It's as close as I could get the synthesizer to make, anyway. Not quite right, but it'll do."
I watch with fascination as he transfers the yellow substance to a plate, then adds colorful items beside it from several small containers arranged on the counter.
"Here," he says, holding the plate out to me. "Figured it wasn't fair you were making all our meals."
I take the plate, studying its contents with scientific curiosity. "What is an omelet?"
"Eggs, well, protein that's similar to eggs, cooked with vegetables and cheese." He points to each component as he explains. "That's onion, bell pepper, mushroom, tomato, and these little green things are jalapeños. Be careful with those, they're spicy. Or at least, the synthesizer's version is."
I sit at the table, and Owen joins me with his own plate a moment later. The food is unlike anything I've had before, warm, aromatic, and layered with flavors that remind me of the spice profiles described in our Earth cultural database. Nereidan nutrition typically focuses on subtle, clean flavors with minimal seasoning. This, by contrast, is bold and complex, with each bite revealing new dimensions.
"This is... interesting," I say after the first bite, unable to keep a small flicker of light from appearing beneath my skin. "The flavor profile is quite intense."
Owen laughs softly. "That's a diplomatic way of saying it's weird. You don't have to eat it if you don't like it."
"No, I find it surprisingly agreeable," I say, taking another bite with more enthusiasm. "The combination of flavors is complex yet harmonious."
"Really?" He looks pleased, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. "Well, that's a relief."
We eat in comfortable silence for a few moments before I ask, "Is this what humans typically consume for their morning nutrition?"
He shakes his head. "Not me, anyway. Usually I just have cereal."
"Cereal?"
"It's a grain product made into small shapes, usually sweetened, served with milk," he explains. "Quick, easy, no cooking required."
I try to imagine such a meal and fail. "Without any fruits or vegetables?"
"Sometimes there's a strawberry on the box," he says with a small laugh. "But no, not usually."
"That seems... nutritionally inadequate," I observe.
"Probably why I'm such an environmental disaster," he replies, but there's no heat in his tone. If anything, he seems amused.
We're nearly finished with the meal when my communication panel activates, displaying Zeph'hai's identifier. I feel a momentary surprise, my brother rarely calls without scheduling it first.
"You should take it," Owen says, seemingly unconcerned. "I'll clean up."
I activate the communication link, and Zeph'hai's image appears in the air between us.
"Ry'eth!" My brother's face breaks into a wide smile. "How's the assessment going?"
"The assessment is proceeding according to protocol," I reply formally, aware of Owen's presence as he gathers our plates. "All data transmission requirements have been met."
"I'm not asking as your brother the emissary," Zeph'hai says, his expression softening. "I'm asking as your brother. Are you doing alright?"
Something about his genuine concern breaks through my professional facade. "I am... well. I am currently experiencing an omelet."
Zeph'hai's laughter is immediate and warm. "An omelet? Excellent! You should ask your human to make pancakes next.Jake makes them with these small dark berries inside, they're incredible."
I bristle at his phrasing. "Owen is not 'my human.' He is simplyahuman."
