The Galaxy, and the Ground Within by Becky Chambers (best novels in english .txt) 📕

Ouloo held Pei’s arm, staring at the scales. ‘Oh, stars,’ she said in a hush. She stared a moment longer, then looked up at Pei with shining eyes. ‘Congratulations.’

ROVEG

He was so happy Speaker had joined him. He hadn’t been sure how she’d feel about his invitation – not because he could think of anything in it that would be poorly received, but because Speaker was still a stranger to him. Did meals and socialising mix well, for her? Was she the sort to go to the home of someone she barely knew for breakfast?

Apparently, she was.

As she walked through the airlock, she seemed markedly different than she had two days before, when she’d come in, scrib in hand, confidently asking him what it was he could do in a pinch. Today, there was no scrib, only the bundles of food he’d prepared for her, carefully tucked around both sides of her cockpit seat in an endearing way. She looked … not nervous, no. Shy. That was it. Speaker looked a touch shy, and even with his limited knowledge of her, that was not a trait he’d expected.

‘I’m delighted you’re here,’ he said, bowing his torso. ‘I was thinking we could eat in the projection room, if that’s all right by you?’

‘Oh,’ Speaker said. ‘Um, yes, that sounds fine.’

She followed him down the hallway, the clank of her mech suit providing a funny harmony to the familiar patter of his own legs. He had been ready for small talk, as she’d been pleasant company in the days before, but she was quiet now. Glancing back, he could see her studiously taking in the hallway, the architecture, the artwork on the walls. What did she make of it, he wondered. He thought of her weary shuttle parked next to his, and of what he’d known of her species before he met her, and of what he’d learned of them since. At this, he became self-conscious. Embarrassed, almost. He wondered if this was insulting to her in some way, if it came across like he was some wealthy bastard with more than he deserved. He knew he was a wealthy bastard, and he certainly didn’t deserve it any more than anybody else. These were facts, but he hoped she didn’t dislike him over it. He shuffled his abdominal plates, and told himself that however she felt was simply how she felt. He could do nothing about that, but what he could control was the embarrassment, which was antithetical to the point. He’d been taught that if one person had more than another, feeling guilty about it was the least productive reaction. The only proper way to approach such inequities was to figure out how best to wield them, so as to bring others up to where you stood. (This lesson was one of the better-known components of the Central Tenets; not everything in there was nonsense, and not all of it were things he’d felt the need to root out. Most, but not all.)

‘Well, here we are,’ he said, leading her into the projection room. The background he’d chosen for the occasion was a giant terraced fountain, with languid waves of water cascading slowly down its mossy sides. He’d wanted something that would serve as accompaniment, not distraction. His table in the middle was already set, laden with plates containing larger portions of the treats he’d packed for her. The meal was far more lacking in protein than he was accustomed to, and he was sure a bellyful of nothing but plants was going to call for a follow-up snack once she’d gone, but enjoying a meal with someone was as much about sharing an experience as it was about sharing space. ‘I’m very much looking forward to trying these things. They’re all ingredients I had aboard, of course, but I did some reading, and I prepared them in a way I hope will suit. I wasn’t wrong about them being safe for you, correct?’

‘They seem to be,’ Speaker said. ‘I’m not familiar with most of them, so I ran it all through a scanner before I came over. No offence, I hope.’

‘Oh, not at all. A wise precaution. I once made the mistake of not doing that before tucking in at this little Harmagian eatery once, and I couldn’t feel the inside of my mouth for a tenday.’ He looked her up and down. ‘I’d invite you to sit, but … I suppose you’re already sitting.’

Speaker laughed from her cockpit chair. ‘I can sit the suit down so I’m not towering over you.’

He chuckled in agreement, and lowered his abdomen to the floor, folding his legs in neatly. Speaker pulled her controls, setting the suit down with an industrial thud.

‘Vehlech hra hych bet,’ he said magnanimously, then translated: ‘May it be to your liking.’

She cocked her head with interest. ‘Tellerain is such a beautiful language.’

‘Do you think so?’ he said. He reached for a plate of quick-pickled marshpears. ‘Sounds and beauty are such relative things. I know Aandrisks don’t like the sound of us much, but then, I think Reskitkish sounds like someone trying to choke to death as quickly as possible, so to each their own.’

‘I love the layers in Tellerain,’ Speaker said. ‘It’s like a song.’

He made an appreciative sound, then a much louder one as he bit into the marshpear. ‘Oh! Mmm! Oh, I think this turned out quite well, what do you say? And please know, I won’t be bothered at all if you don’t like any of it. I’m sure we have very different palates.’

Speaker looked at what he was eating, then searched the bundles around her seat to find the matching stuff. She pulled out a marshpear with an intrigued look, studied it for a moment, then took an investigative nibble with her beak. ‘Stars, that’s tart,’ she said.

‘Too tart?’

‘No, no. I think I’ll eventually like it; I just had no idea what to expect.’

‘I think I’ll eventually like it,’ he repeated