I couldn't buy it.
I could buy things like it, but nothing exactly like it, because it wasn't manufactured.
She wore hand-dyed, hand-cut, and hand-sewn. She, or another human, had crafted every step of the glorious, flowing art that she adorned herself with. As soon as I saw that, I did a deep dive into everything she had publicly online. It was a little disturbing how easy it was to find information on her, so I sent a complaint to the Norratar's about individual human privacy. Still, despite my complaint, I didn't stop looking, because she hadn't purchased her unique outfits.
She made them.
She made lots of beautiful things from fabric to woven bits of slender metal wrapped around pretty stones. I went through picture after picture of the beautiful things she created. She didn't sell them; she just wore them herself and occasionally gifted them to friends. Most of the pictures were available from a string of text messages back and forth to her friends, which I absolutely shouldn't have been able to find. It was unacceptable. I sent in a second complaint, recommending an Eldryx security expert I had gotten a consult with before I set up my ship, but the damage was done. I knew far too much about this single human than was appropriate.
And I was utterly smitten.
But I hadn't worked out a way to introduce myself to her yet. Technically, my species hadn't been formally introduced to humanity yet. Like the Chyrriths and Eldryx, we were a little bit... more than humans were used to. That, and we had strict privacy morals and laws that were respected by our allied species. I couldn't introduce myself to her until I found a way to gently inform her that I stalked myself into a crush that wasn't based on the reality of genuine interaction.
It was embarrassing.
But now that she was out in the hallway where I could see her, directly requesting contact, all I could feel was excitement.
"Bethany Celine Khalil," I said through the vocal projector closest to her location. "How may I assist you?"
She smiled, her gaze looking around. "Call me Beth. Your voice is so warm," she said. "I didn't expect a computer to sound so warm."
"I'm not a computer," I said. "I'm the Vaurelcar, Marek."
"Oh, good! I wanted to talk to you," she said, her smile widening before a few creases appeared on her forehead. "But why can't I talk to you in my room? The coffee table screen said I couldn't contact the ship's computer from my room."
"I'm not a computer," I repeated firmly. I'd already heard several humans refer to me that way, so I looked it up to see if it was a cultural thing. They had several stories where spaceships had centralized computers that responded to the on-board crew, like an enslaved artificial intelligence. It was disturbing. Far too close to what the Calcilum had done to my people. "You had to step into the hallway as I have no optical or vocal sensors or projectors inside any space marked for privacy, which by default includes all cabins."
"By default?" she asked as she looked up and down the hallway again. "Can you put some in my room so I can talk to you in there?"
"I can," I said, immediately trying to squash my raging excitement. I began shifting the needed equipment with my neurofilaments, moving the parts in question into place. "Would you like me to do that? I can remove them at any time."
"Um, can anyone else use them?" she asked. "Like, if you put them in my room, is security going to be able to see me whenever they want?"
"If you would like security to monitor your room, I can grant them access," I said. "But I can also install them so only I have access to speak or see you."
"Please do that," she said. "I would much rather talk to you in my room."
"It is done," I said.
"That was so fast!" she said as she headed back into her room. "You're amazing."
The easy compliment startled me for a moment, but not as much as the sight of the inside of her room. She had adjusted every color, matching the entire room to the current outfit she wore, creating an intense compliment of green and pink and a yellowish orange that was reminiscent of a brilliant sunset overa rain-fresh meadow. Her entire body relaxed as the door shut behind her, and she let out a sigh.
"Can you hear me now?" she said, looking around at the ceiling.
"Yes, I can hear you," I said on the newly installed vocal projector closest to her, modulating my voice so it would sound like I was right next to her. I had gone a little overboard with installations and could see her from every angle. I zoomed in on her face as she turned towards the sound, the surprise and delight registering with every movement of her facial muscles.
"This is so much better," she said. "Do you think you could help me figure out some of the details on the room controls?"
"What you've done so far is visually striking," I said, eliciting another smile from her. "What else are you trying to do?"
"I want to create patterns and drawings," she said. "I'm able to get solid colors everywhere, but I had this idea. I would like to be able to draw a design and then choose its size and placement around the room. It would be better if I could just paint on the walls directly themselves, but of course that would be too messy for a spacecraft."
"I have a tool in my file bank that can be used to alter colors on surfaces that have nano controls like the ones in your rooms by touch," I said. "I can manufacture it, but first, let's go over its design and see if we can make it work better for humans before I create it. Other passengers might want to have one too."
I projected the image of the tool in the air in front of her.
She walked around it.
