He was half awake, his clothes clinging to his body, damp from his cold sweat. And he had the usual mild headache after the drugs had worn off. He really had to go, too, and his stomach was growling. All too familiar, this was good news, it meant the jump was as long as planned. Slowly his eyes focused. Jerka was standing in the cockpit. "Hello, sleepyhead. You lost half a day. We got out 6081 ago."

"Huh." His brain was still fighting the drugs.

"Do you need help?"

That was all the incentive he needed. He opened the complex 4D safety harness of his seat and stood up, taking a quick look at their status. They were weightless, drifting just over the legal limit of 0.1 c through the empty Ross system. Well, nobody was here, so who cared. What was different was the unmistakable smell of Krantagratin, a very nice smell with evoked another loud growling from his stomach.

"Dinner will be ready in 0020. Maybe you want to take a shower?"

Well, that was a not-too-subtle hint. "Simon, 0.1 g for a shower, please."

"Marik, yes. Braking or accelerating?"

Their next destination was one of the oldest and most famous spacefaring civilization. "Simon, brake." He certainly did not want to exceed the speed limit there.

* * *

The shower led directly into the galley. Thankfully, Jerka had closed her cabin door so he could strip, shower, towel and change into new clothes in peace. This time he wore a T-shirt and shorts, because it somehow felt warmer. But Simon would not change the temperature, the AI certainly had no preference.

He was still towelling his hair when the oven chimed. Jerka opened her cabin door and smiled.

"Right on time, lovely." The latter was aimed at the gratin as she had already passed him on her way to the oven. She took out the hot tray and put it on the activated magnets of the table. Which was covered by a red tablecloth.

Marik got the hint with the magnets. "Simon, 0.2 g please."

Immediately, the gravity from their deceleration doubled. His stomach growled again.

Jerka laughed. "Come and eat." She reached under the table and produced a bottle. It pinged when she put it on the table.

He took the bottle. It was heavy, certainly not plastic, he had never seen such a bottle before. He watched in fascination as she unscrewed the top of the green bottle and poured out two cups of yellowish liquid.

"Come sit down!"

He sat down on the other bench in the mess alcove which contained two benches and the table. The Krantagratin smelled very delicious, and the setting was like a real restaurant with the red tablecloth and the mats below the plates, which also were real ceramics. A previous pilot must have spent a fortune on real tableware. Well, cooking was not a bad hobby for long trips.

She also served the Krantagratin like a professional. Using the rubber serving fork, she cut out a rectangular piece that would satisfy even Llanaploß and centred it on the plate. Then she sprinkled some spices on it. His stomach growled again in anticipation. They both laughed.

"Enjoy!"

And he did. He was starving after the jump, no surprise. The patches slowed the metabolism, but three days still consumed some calories.

The Krantagratin was hot and really, really good. He could swear it was made from real Kranta, the kind from the Fallerian homeworld, far down in the gravity well, and not some orbital rip-off.

"This is the best Krantagratin I have eaten since I left Fallerian."

She smiled. "I thought so. It is real Kranta. All handmade. How do you like the apple cider?"

He took a sip. It was an explosion of fruit and spice. "Great, what planet is apple cider from?"

Now she looked confused. "Standard human drink. You did not know?"

He blushed. "Sorry, I." Only then did the previous sentence fully register with him. "Real Kranta. But then this dinner must have cost more than all the food I had bought for the entire journey."

She smiled. "I'm not paying for the passage. That's only fair."

"Real Kranta." He was still lost, staring at the piece of gratin in front of him as if it were a bar of gold.

"Hey! Eat, food is for eating. Enjoy it!"

He ate slowly again, savouring every bite despite his hunger.

* * *

In the end, he alone ate almost three-quarters of the Krantagratin. He enjoyed it but now felt like he had run up a bigger debt than he could pay off with this journey. This had been really the second-best Krantagratin of his life. (The best was made by Llanaploß, his foster father's contract companion contract partner. And Llanaploß ran a restaurant.)

Now, he was washing up the dishes and the cooking utensils while Jerka watched from the bench.

"Jerka, you said you do not need drugs, and you had, er, these extra eyelids. Is this a mod?" And then he added, "I mean, if I am allowed to ask. Sorry, I mean."

"Marik, it's ok. And, yes, it's a mod. I have some more." She turned serious. "But let's get clear. I am not human, and not only according to the genetic purity clause."

"I think I have heard of this. But does this matter?"

She smiled. "No, it should not. At least not to most of the galaxy, and certainly not to the non-humans. Did you know that almost 30 % of all intelligent inhabitants of human worlds who are able to, er." She looked at him and sighed, "to have a child with a human, of all those 30 % are not considered human. Like me."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"You mean that I am probably not human either?"

"No, I am pretty sure you are almost a purebred. I can get you a test kit."

"No thanks." He put the plates and tray in the zero-gravity dryer. "Simon, we can save fuel now. No need for thrust."

Immediately, they were weightless. "Marik, we can drift for about 6940 but then I need to get on the next vector for Jasper."

"Simon, I want to arrive at Jasper as precisely as possible. Please plot a course that minimises the error. Fuel is secondary."

"Marik, I confirm."

Jerka had drifted up from the bench. "Let's have some 0 g fun. Do you have some driving music?"

"Of course, Simon, do you have any recording of the Fallerian Group Kratzch?"

“Wow, you really speak like a native Fallerian. I would not even come close to that hissing final consonant”, Jerka praised him.

"Marik, I am sorry, no Fallerian recordings in my database. I would be happy to add some”, the AI finally replied, waiting politely if Marik would not answer Jerka first.

"Wait!" He flew back to his cabin and got his pad and stuck it to the table on the magnet. Fallerian metal rock was playing, however neither very loud nor very clear on his small pad.

"That's nice," she said. "Didn't know this. Now catch me." And she sailed past him, just out of reach. He just saw now that she had hands instead of feet. Still, it shouldn't be too hard to catch her, he had passed so many hours in weightlessness. But she was no stranger to 0 g as well, nimble, and well anticipating his movements. Just to tease him, she sailed even down behind his back through the same hatch that he was just going up. Or sailed past him just a finger width outside his reach. And in 0 g without a hold, he could not turn or jump further forward. He still caught her after a while. But then, evading her was much harder. In the end, he was 'it' almost all of the time.

When his playlist looped, he returned panting to the galley where she floated, only secured by a foot-hand gripping the table. Sweaty as well.

"Thanks, that was great fun. You are fast."

"Hu, I think", he wheezed, "you are too fast." Still not catching his breath. "You did this before. And with those modded feet."

"Marik," it was coming from many speakers at once, so there was some reverb. "We need to go to 0.1 g in 1000. Can you confirm?"

He stopped halfway through the hatch, upside down and still breathing heavily. "Yes, Simon, yes, I confirm. Actually, would it make any difference to have 0.05 g now?"

"Marik, no, I confirm, 0.05 g now."

The ladder slightly vibrated from the impact, when Jerka also held onto it as there was again a weak indication of up and down. "Here, let me give you a hand." She flipped him around and then stood next to him.

He was still out of breath. "Actually, how many mods do you have?"

"Hey, hey, it is rude to ask before a date. Although, a wild chase is a common courtship ritual."

"Which date? Should I ask tomorrow? And what is courtship?"

Now Jerka looked confused. Or was it something else? He really had a hard time reading humans. "Sorry, if I"

"No, I was just surprised. So nobody has talked about the flower and the bees."

"Eh? Two of my friends in the last year of my education contract were bees. But they did not like it on the station and left for a planet contract as soon as they graduated."

Her expression became even more confused, but then it dawned. "Ah, Fallerian. So, what do they do on Fallerian when two people want to start a family?"

"What? They make a contract, of course. How many eggs from whom will be fertilised by whom. Standard term is 13 years after hatching with a no-hatching clause of usually five years."

"I mean, how." She stopped. "Ok, maybe coming from another direction. You know that I am female and you are male. Like 95 % of all species dual-sexed."

He nodded. "Yes, I can fertilise only. Never really thought much about it."

She sighed. "You know, human eggs hatch inside the woman for three-quarters of a standard year?"

"Really? But how are these fertilised then?"

Now she blushed. "I could show you, but, er, not before the next jump. How about doing a quick shower while I prepare something to eat?"

The sudden change of subject confused him too. And he still had no idea what a courtship was. It sounded like a large vessel. But ritual he knew. He really needed to learn more about humans. Humans had not been covered beyond the bare essentials in Fallerian education, the insect community had enough own problems. But a shower was always good. "Sounds good, yes. I will get some fresh clothes."

* * *

As he stepped out of the shower he was greeted by a delicious smell. Something was baking in the oven. He wondered how she could have prepared something so quickly. "OK, I'm dressed."

The hatch to her cabin opened. "Great, let's eat."

With an elegant low g somersault, she came to rest precisely in front of the oven, breaking the impulse just enough to avoid bouncing. With the same fluid movement, she took the gloves out of the drawer. She did it as casually as if for herself, not as putting on a deliberate show. But he was still deeply impressed by her near perfect movements.

"Can you put the tablecloth down?"

"The red one?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Simon, can we get a bit more g for the next 0030 to eat?"

"Marik, yes, 0.15 g is enough?"

"Simon, thank you."

"You are very polite to your AI," she commented as she laid out the plates and cutlery.

"The poor AIs cannot even choose their pilots. And they can make my life miserable. Why should I treat them badly?"

"And I think you are right. Please sit down." But she was still standing, slicing the black loaf with the yellow spots on it into thin slices and arranging them on the plates, pasting them to the plates with a thick sauce. He had never bothered to arrange his food before. But this way it certainly looked as good as it smelled.

Finally, she sat down. "Enjoy your meal."

"Enjoy."

It tasted as good as it smelled; even better actually. It was crispy on the outside and had a nice, full texture in the middle. Probably no meat in it. "This is great. What is it?"

"Krrrtyschrchch."

Had he not been on Cobasian before, he would probably have suspected that she was choking on her food. "Cobasian food, then. Is that an animal?"

"No, an engineered plant, the topping is the local version of Kranta. You will find this Kranta flavour in most of the food you have ordered. The sauce is based on a fermented plant seed. It may not look like much, but it is my favourite dish on Cobasian."

"It is good. It reminds me a little of Fallerian Kxranntl. Although that would be from larvae."

They ate in silence. After swallowing his first mouthful, he chewed more slowly now. The first hunger had passed. Now he ate extra to get some extra calories for the next jump.

"Marik, we will soon be too fast at the entry point. Can we go back to 0.05 g now?"

"Simon, yes, no problem. How long until the jump?"

"Marik, 2172 at 0.05 g."

Plenty of time, although he now had to be careful to keep the items on his plate. Jerka had already finished, cleaned the tray, her plate and went one deck below. She just emerged with two crystal cups in her hands, containing some steaming food. "Cobasian, Hchschcht, a fruit sorbet."

As quickly as the low gravity allowed, he popped the last slice from the unpronounceable Cobasian dish on his plate into his mouth. "More food. But we just ate."

She looked a little disappointed. "You don't like ice cream desserts?"

"What's a dessert?"

"How can you not know desserts?” she sighed. “A dessert is a sweet dish at the end of a meal. Are there no desserts on Fallerian? Don't answer, sorry for asking."

She replaced his plate with the crystal cup and handed him a small golden spoon. "Come try!"

He took a bite and it was delicious. The cold sensation was interesting as well. "Of course, there are sweets on Fallerian, even some made of fruit. But they are not usually eaten right after a meal. And none of them are cold enough to freeze a Fallerian's brain. They really can't stand the cold."

"But humans can. And you, do you like it?"

"Jerka, thank you. Really, it was so good. All your cooking is so delicious, I am afraid you will hate my food."

She smiled. "Don't be so pessimistic. I look forward to your cooking."

He yawned.

"Come, let's cuddle on my bed."

"Cuddle?"

She shook her head. "We will do baby steps in human courtship rituals. You sleep on my bed and I sleep next to you. I'll wake you up in time for the jump."

He was tired from the game of chase and the plenty and great food. And with Jerka cuddled to his back, it was warm like in the hatching hall. He was asleep in no time.