The volatus knocked on the door. He had been invited for supper by the human family. This in and of itself was not special. One of the universal languages of affection and relationships is the sharing of food, and although the families three meal rythm differed from his own five meal rythm, they had shared many meals together over the last three years.
One problem associated with moving to a whole new culture that is not immediately obvious is the complete loss of all the food one is accustomed to. The humans had searched the available foodstuffs, and as omnivores, most were edible for them, although they missed their native food from Earth dearly.
Today was special because within the last month the GA had finished indexing Earth's various foods, and publishing which ones were edible or safe for each of the GA's constituent races. The human family had anxiously awaited the completion of the index and had decided to cook an Earth meal for their friend.
The first shipment had arrived yesterday afternoon, had become available for purchase early in the morning today, and was, judging by the aroma wafting from the human's house, in part currently cooking in their kitchen.
The door swung open slowly and jerkily, almost as if a toddler was opening it. The volatus drifted into the house, peered behind the door, and saw the human's three-year-old daughter beaming up at him with a grin filled with sharp, white teeth. Extremely cute.
"Zinzin!"
A nickname that had stuck. The tiny human hadn't been able to pronounced his actual name, and instead the whole family had adopted the pet name. There was a burst of neural activity nearby, and Zinzin turned.
In the door between the "living" room and the kitchen stood his friend. The mountain of a man glanced at him, eyes filled with a mixture of affection, and a sharp wit and humour that made him a safe, reliable friend, or a formidable enemy.
"Welcome here Zinzin."
"Thank you."
The Volatus sampled the air, delicate nose analyzing the complex scents. There were the normals; CO², human proteins, the waft of degrading vegetables from the garbage, a selection of detergents, especially Squalus, and disinfectants, and the smell of new materials off-gassing.
Overpowering all of these were the smells drifting from the kitchen. Starches, eggs, lactates. Several more potent smells filled the house. At least two fragrances. The traces of alcohol in the scent indicated a potential extract. Underpinning the various fragrances was a beautiful mixture of alien fruit. It was intoxicating.
His friend was watching him, grin so wide he looked like his daughter's drawing. Zinzin suddenly felt quite awkward. He looked up at his friend, and tried to deflect the attention.
"What's for supper?"
His friend lost it. Waves of laughter exploded from him. He leaned against the doorframe, and collected himself.
"You're the one with the fabulous nose, you tell me."
Zinzin though for a moment.
"Well, there is starch, egg, and milk, a lot of milk, so I suppose a batter of some kind."
The human nodded.
"Alkaloids and acids, so the batter foams, something fluffy?"
"Hopefully"
The human's wife joined them, and jabbed her husband in the ribs playfully.
"My waffles are going to be just fine, thank-you"
More laughter followed, light and easy. Each person wanted to show their guest something. There followed a delightful quarter hour of slightly hungry amusement before Zinzin found himself "sitting", as much as volati ever sit, at the table in the kitchen.
Flop! An intriguing circular object flopped lightly onto his plate. A soft, fluffy object, almost certainly the product of the aforementioned batter. The top was a lattice of divots and ridges he rather thought would be very good for contained sauces.
In front of him the table was covered with a variety of shapes, colours, and smells. There was an abundance of various plates and platters filled with fruit whose shapes and colours resembled nothing he had ever seen before. This whole meal had apparently been a full day project for the entire family.
His friend bent his head down, and closed his eyes, followed closely by the rest of the family. Zinzin, familiar with the custom from the last three years, followed suit so smoothly that if you did not notice the race of the volatus you would swear he was on of the human family.
His friend spoke, thanking the One who saved him for the day, his family, their guest, and the food.
Then they ate. If one has ever seen a human eat one never forgets it. They eat with an intensity and focus that reminds an observer that these broad spectrum omnivores are only slightly removed from obligate carnivores, and the world they were designed for was not always so kind as it is now.
The volatus hardly noticed any of this. Three years had acclimated him to his new friends, and so at this point the only thought in his mind was the spread before him unlike anything he had ever seen.
The waffles were completely safe for him to eat, they were just bread after all. A large collection of fruits and vegetables were also deemed harmless. His world filled with the most beautiful tastes and smells, mixed with a deep intuitive grasp of the chemical composition that would make a human foody envious, and any botanist or chemist reflect sadly on their own constricted umwelt.
Not all of the food laid on the table was safe for a volatus. He gestured to a red bowl (the result of careful colour coding). His hostess answered the question before he asked it, an impressive feat for a race without telepathy.
"Oranges"
Zinzin wrinkled his nose in frustration.
"I can see that, what are they?"
She laughed, a light, carrying laugh that made the room brighter, before explaining.
"The fruit is literally called an orange. That's one of the oldest jokes in the book."
He opened his mouth to ask another question, but was once more anticipated.
"The fruit came first."
It was uncanny.
"Are they safe for me to eat?"
"The flesh has oils that will irritate your skin and cause your fur to fall out, but the flesh should be safe.
He husband reached for an orange.
"Mind if I?"
The volatus watched the orange intently. It was very orange. He did the human nod.
It was sour, very sour, and very sweet. Refreshing.
Next he tried a raspberry. He couldn't risk too many because of the xylitol. The mangoes and pears were safe, aside from the cyanide laced seeds. Typical deathworlder fruit. The grapes he could not eat without organ failure.
Finally he came to the vary last fruit deemed non poisonous for a volatus, the pineapple. The volatus took a tiny piece, and ate it. It was sour, but not unbearably so. It was sweet, and so fragrant. He basked in the smell for a beautiful moment.
Then the burning started. There was a war in his mouth! The fruit was chemically attacking him! His friend had been watching, and now handed him a glass of water.
Zinzin drank, washing away the malevolent fruit and it's influence.
Then the volatus sat and pondered the remains of the battlefield in his mouth. Enzymes. The damaged and inflammed cells of his mouth must have been attacked by some sort of enzyme.
"Enzymes?"
His friend nodded, before speaking.
"Not just enzymes."
The human stood up and made his way to an object sitting on a shelf, and set it before the volatus. Zinzin stared at it intently. Lenses and mirrors... It was some sort of primitive microscope! Of course a biologist would have a microscope! Zinzin gingerly picked up a piece of pineapple, and analyzed the microscope. He gently pulled out the glass slide, and rubbed the pineapple on it. He focused the instrument.
The humans waited quietly, except for the toddler, who was busy coating her surroundings with syrup.
Volatus do not, as a rule, use exclamations. They are very rarely surprised, which is why Zinzin did not know how to react to what he saw. Thousands of sharp spikes drifted about in the fluid.
His friend helpfully filled the silence.
"Calcium Oxalate needles."
"What?"
"The needles create thousands of micro lacerations, and the brometin enzyme enters through the cuts, and starts digesting your cells."
Zinzin thought for a moment.
"I suppose the acid doesn't help either"
The volatus sat, as much as volatus ever really sit, and allowed himself to bask in the light conversation, and watched, with little surprise, as the humans ate pinapple until their mouths were raw.
Only Deathworlders