Night 41: Tulip, Chocolate and Yogurt Orange Slices
The Late Night Diner is a part of Rhodes Island's canteen. That goes without saying – to whom had anyone ever heard of a diner in the boiler room?
As the name implies, it opens around midnight. There are only a handful of customers at a time.
Operators off their night shift could take an order and bring back to their quarters. Night owls could sit dining-in while leeching off the Diner's wi-fi. The Doctor would come for instant noodles from time to time.
Drinks are in the cooler. Anyone burdened by their own thoughts could take one and chug it down, anytime.
Menu? No such thing exists. What the Chef prepares is what you get. It all depends on his mood of the day.
Welcome to the Rhodes Island Late Night Diner. In here, you might even meet a familiar face or two.
The wind raised yet again.
Tulip pushed open her window. The salty breeze blew, through her hair and into the room. The sea was still depressingly grey. The low gloomy clouds pressed close to it surface as if they would touch the waves. It was not a good day for sailing. In days like this even the most sturdy of the vessels would stay inside the harbour till the weather cleared up.
Tulip never liked a gloomy Iberian shore smothered by the clouds. In her memories, Iberia should always have a cloudless blue sky. The ships were ready to sail at any moment. Golden rays of sunlight gleamed on the surface of the white sails, and the sailors would busy themselves with tasks on board while the first mate with a half-filled bottle of rum in hand would leave blacked boot prints on the butts of slackers...Yet these all came from the stories told to her by her forefathers. After the Silence, there were no more pirates troubling the Iberian coasts, and never were the lateen sails graced the open sea, and her self-imposed acts of justice and freedom were but mere squabbles in the eyes of the Inquisition.
She walked to her desk, and picked up an orange from the basket. She would always keep a few oranges within arms' reach – a habit she acquired before taking up the codename Tulip. Constant sailing on the sea would result in vitamin deficiency among the sailors and in turn led to scurvy. The old sailors would say that eating oranges was a sure-shot way to cure it, and they even believed that it could alleviate the symptoms of Oripahy or even reverse the effect of Seaborn assimilation. All preposterous rumors, Tulip thought. If those incurable conditions could be simply treated by eating fruit, the scholars of Columbian universities and the fabled Abyssal Hunters would lose their jobs overnight.
Even though Tulips excelled at the art of sword fighting, when she sliced open the orange a splash of fruit juice still sprayed on her face. She wiped them with her hands, then poured herself a cup of soda water. She squeezed the half-orange and let the juice filled the glass. She then filled the rest of the cup with vodka and placed two balls of ice inside the cup. With strips of orange rind placed on the side, the slightly bitter fruity aroma mingled with the strong scent of the liquor rushed into her nose. She would always pour her a cup when there was no active assignments, and leaned against the windowsill gazing toward the roiling sea. She liked the taste of the salty wind with her drink.
Her long-range communicator beeped. The call came from Rhodes Island land ship. On the screen was a man in chef's attire. Tulip answered the call, and greeted him with a bit of indolence. "Good afternoon." She said.
"Afternoon, Miss Tulip. On your list of supply requisition for the Logistics there is one item. It's 'chocolate and yogurt orange slices', and you specified that it has to be made by me." The Chef, with a piece of paper in hand, said. " I recall there are many types of fruit jerky and chips from Closure's store. Even though she's always been unscrupulous, but it'd still a better deal with her than placing a commission with me..."
"I had always heard from other out-bound operators that you manage an overnight diner on the land ship. They told me that your craft was so good that anyone would want to have a meal there even it meant sacrificing hours of sleep." Tulip sipped on her drink and said. "I'd like to believe they've been telling the truth. Besides, it shouldn't be that much of work for you to slice a few oranges and bake them for me, would it?"
"I had to correct you, miss. First and for the record, they had said that it would be worth it if they stayed in line the whole night just to have a taste of my cooking. " The Chef raised his finger. "Also, you call this 'a few oranges' ?" He moved aside, and revealing the small mound of oranges on the work table behind him.
"Well, looking forward to your excellent work." Tulip replied. She watched as the Chef washed the fruits with a sullen face. He scrubbed the oranges with salt on the brush to rid the wax coating on the fruit surface, then cut them into slices and boiled them in sugar water to reduce the bitterness in the fruit and the rind. Afterwards he placed the slices, boiled and dried, on a large tray and send it into the oven. He then started making the chocolate coating while chatting with Tulip.
They talked about many things, from Catastrophes to good wine, and from the Church of the Deep to the Iberian farmers' market. When the orange slices were baked crispy, the Chef took them out and coated them in melted black chocolate, then dabbed them with powered yogurt and coated them yet again with a layer of white chocolate. Underneath the layers of white and black chocolate was the half translucent flesh of the baked fruit. The Chef listened to Tulip's tales of her battle with the Sea Terrors, while putting the orange slices into special plastic bags and seal them air tight. Then he put them inside large cardboard boxes and sealed them with a sticker indicating the place of origin – the Rhodes canteen. Slightly parched from all the talking, Tulip downed her drink in one gulp. She had drained another four cups of rum beside the orange vodka drink. Now her cheeks were coloured light pink with tipsiness, and her stories had shifted from the her duties at the Rhodes Island branch office to the roguish tales of her youth.
"I have to say, your life was far more exciting than I had imagined." The Chef said while stacking the filled cardboard boxes together and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. "I thought all outbound operators to Iberia would only spend their time with salt water and Sea Terrors."
"In the golden age before the Silence, the trade routes of Iberia had reached many places on and around the sea." Tulip said, and shifted her gaze back to the sea outside her window. The air had become much more humid – a sign that a storm was on its way. "Though most of the sea was occupied by those damned monsters, one day we will take it back and with it the things once belonged to us..."
"May it be so. If only we haven't become Seaborn ourselves." The Chef said, and check-marked few things on the list in hand. "Your requests would arrive after a few days at the Iberian branch office with other supplies. Remember to keep them in shade and in a cool place. The oranges would not be as tasty if they took on too much moisture."