The Han-System was home to a fledgling K2 civilization, a thousand lightyears away from earth. Located in the constellation of Telescopium and visible to the naked human eye, should one choose to look up from good old earth and peer beyond the glow of the terran cloud.
The dual star/silent black hole system was under the scrutiny of three space faring civilizations. Oldest among them were the humans, managing the cooperation between themselves, the Sem´ais and the Va´an. The Va´an are Elfish humanoids with pointy ears, four arms and a rocky hide. They had been the first to help build this place up, eager for a joint research project with the Humans.
In contrast to the Herbivorous Va´an were the carnivorous Sem´ais. As the newest Uplifted on the galactic stage, it came as a bit of a surprise that they would help out as well, though people more familiar with their connection to the humans would know it was them who dragged them along.
The company that owned the vast majority of the triple star system was also the one that had brokered the deal between the three Races. The operation was important enough that backing was assured. Nations halfway across the Galaxy were funding the research, though most species preferred to set up similar efforts closer to home.
A good 2 AU from the object of interest, orbits the continent-class Habitat XAE1050-B, sitting in the middle of a smaller than average, hollowed out asteroid. People often referred to it as Vanalinn (Oldtown), as it was among the first city´s built in the initial colonization.
Like all O´Niel Cylinders, it came in pairs. Its torque and precession from the slow rotation largely eliminated by its Sister cylinder. Hidden away on the outside, but still protected by a good 200 meters of rock and storage tanks, were the auxiliary facilities, providing space for factories and food production, while the inside was reserved for residential and business areas.
Vanalinn´s enormous size wasn’t unique. Besides hundreds more like it, there were some truly gigantic structures around, some encompassing gas planets or even stars. One of which was the telescope cloud currently orbiting the object of interest, undergoing last tests before picking up operation.
As the century-project slowly moved into the hot phase, new personnel were needed at every level of society. A constant stream of fresh minds pooled into the system, to take up jobs in all walks of life. From Janitors, manning the gigantic plasma cannons against the constant Kessler syndrome, to theoretical physicists sifting through the data collected by all sorts of equipment around the black hole, positions needed to be filled.
As such, all kinds of people came together. And for some it would be the first time interacting with others not of their species.
------------------------------------ α ------------------------------------
Tom was feeling a bit lost. He was new to dealing with aliens, as was his species in general, as it has only been two generations since his people were contacted and introduced to the wonders of technology.
He was currently standing in line at the food stall near his office, staring into space and contemplating his recent arrival at Vanalinn. He was shown his new house, as well as a good bit of the bustling city, was asked to choose a new name, before finally being sat down in an office just down the road to work on the recent Programming error of the Telescope cloud.
The young Sem´ais was still hung up on the choosing of his Name. He was told not to stress too much, as everyone had to take up a few new, better pronounceable names, every time one interacted with a different species. But he still couldn’t help but think about his choice.
As such he hadn’t really noticed the line moving. Startled, he blindly grabbed something advertised as compatible with his species and turned away, mumbling apologies under his breath. With a tray holding a carcass he couldn’t identify, he stepped away from the food stall and went searching for a place to sit at.
The air inside the rotating habitat was fresh and clear of dust and pollen, as it had rained just yesterday. Despite being uncomfortable out in the open, he still admired the changing colors of the trees. Soon, the habitat would enter its “Winter” phase. The cultural classes he had taken warned him to prepare a coat for the coming season, as even his thick pelt would not be enough, once the rain would turn to snow.
Looking over the hilly landscape made him once again question if he really was off planet and in a glorified, pressurized metal can. The recreational park had a thick forest and a decent underbrush for small critters. The cries of animals in the distance were triggering his hunter’s instinct. He desperately wanted to take out his obsidian knife and hunt like his grandpa had showed him when he was still a small pup.
He clamped down hard on the flight of fancy, as he knew the break was not long enough for a good hunt. With a sigh he moved to find a spot at the nearby tables. Most of his colleagues were already in their own small groups, not noticing him as he looked through the crowd.
The place was full to bursting. People of all three races sat together, discussing this or that. One group of Va´an was giggling rather loudly. One of them had reached up to pluck a blue leaf of a tree. The coughing and sputtering made the others only laugh louder. With a huff the previously struggling Va´an turned back to her salad.
To the side and under the shade of a big oak tree was a face he didn’t recognize from the noticeboard he saw at his office. The human still had a free spot at his table, so he made his way towards him.
The human seemed to be a male in his early thirty´s. Every so often he would look up from his bowl and take a look at the scenery. The rolling hills, forest and sprawling city broke up the tubular look of Vanalinn. In the distance were lakes, fed by waterfalls falling out of the cliffs. The endpoints of Vanalinn were modeled to look like mountains and according to a half-forgotten pamphlet, the best spot to take a short vacation.
The human noticed him and scooted over to make space for his enormous build. Next to Tom´s hairy body, the human looked thin and frail. Tom almost pitied him for the meager brown tuff of fur on top of his head. Though he knew the amount was normal for their species.
Setting the tray down was a relief. He had walked here on three legs, balancing his tray precariously in one clawed fore paw. He was mindful not to scratch up the floor as walked by using his knuckles, leaving him unbalanced and awkward. He kind of envied humans.
Each of them had grunted a quick hello, before turning to their meals. The human was delicately balancing a thin metal object with his incredible manipulator to scoop small amounts of chunky orange liquid out of his bowl. Next to him the Sem´ais was tearing into the carcass with teeth and claw, ripping chunks of meat out of the chicken-like animal.
Tom was quite pleased with his choice, even though he didn’t know what exactly he had bought. Despite his focus being squarely on the Tlor´p he couldn’t help but notice the interested glances he got from the human. He didn’t do anything about it though, as he himself was equally fascinated with the human´s way of eating.
Neither of them said anything and went their separate way once both had eaten their fill.
Lingering a bit at the tray collection trolley, Tom caught the human speaking to the person at the food stall.
“Hey Mary, the pumpkin soup was really nice. Have you tried a new recipe?”
She squinted her eyes at him. “If you think you can steal one of my recipes again, then you can go stuff yourself. My lips are sealed.”
Posing dramatically, she mimed sealing her mouth shut and throwing the key away. Her ferocious look made her seem like a warrior, despite her small statue and thin crossed arms.
“Oh, come on. Please? Pretty please?” The human didn’t seem capable to keep the grin out of his face. “You know how much I like your recipes. You always have this special something in them.”
With a huff she leaned forward over the counter, her blue apron collecting a few more stains in the process. Whispering loudly in his ear she stated. “Well, at least I can discuss cooking with you. Preparing food for aliens is sooo boring. Here is what you do… “
She listed a bunch of stuff Tom never even heard of, before giving detailed instructions to a religious(?) ritual. At the end he was quite confused.
That was when his alarm rang and he knew he had fucked up. With little time left he made for the bath stalls at the park entrance. With a quick wash he was clean of blood and viscera. Drying himself with a towel as he walked, he barely made it back in time.
A colleague had prepared a presentation which the new hires were required to attend. Despite the interesting topic Tom caught himself drifting back to the two humans’ multiple times.
------------------------------------ β ------------------------------------
Back at home he immediately looked up information on humans. Their eating habits, what would be considered poisonous, etc. Surprised and a tiny bit disgusted, he leaned back. He didn’t really understand.
Concrete information to most of their food was hard to track down, despite there being multiple sites dedicated to them. Furthermore, almost all of them seemed to need a complicated religious(?) ritual before it was considered edible. Blending meat and vegetables together seemed the norm.
Worst of all though was their tendency to heat up almost anything.
His species was new to the galactic scene. It had puzzled the other species, as they were among the first to evolve intelligence. The accepted theory today, was that their extreme disgust of fire didn’t let them progress. There were of course other factors involved, but this seemed to be their biggest challenge. Handling fire was dangerous at the best of times, but with thick fur on your grasping appendage, nearly impossible.
His ancestors had learned to stay away from it, soon developing a strong response to fire and everything made with it. Be it cooked food, earthen ware or even metal, their response to it was wariness, if not outright hostility. His species development was stuck in the stone age for millions of years.
That is, until humans found them, worked with them for a few generations and changed their outlook on things. Electricity was tolerated, metal accepted and industry largely left to the pyromaniac humans to deal with.
Shaking his head at his musings, Tom decided to spent a little more time hunting down concrete information. It was already late at night, the artificial sky glittering with stars. The few ads that were still flickering over the far up screen thankfully shrunken down and less bright, but still visible.
The next day came too fast for his liking. He was used to 26-hour days, his rhythm not yet acclimated to the 25 of Vanalinn. It was a golden middle no one was comfortable with. Va´an had the short end of the stick, their home world spinning in a 23-hour rhythm. Though the Humans home world now had a 25 rotation, they complained as well, being more used to 24.
The news spoke at length about how this day, the weather would be nice. The weather team said that the plants were watered enough and cloud formation would be dialed back down, with the next rain scheduled for Friday, 1.30 in the afternoon. Still, a few fluffy clouds were collecting in the park, right above the small collection of lakes and streams.
The tasks thrown at him today were exhausting. The errors esoteric and hardly documented.
He groggily made his way over to the same spot he ate at yesterday. At this point he was almost sleepwalking. He was grateful for the ample breaktime he got in the afternoon. Shuffling along he only noticed the human when he made to sit down. His mind was still spinning around the new information he found at night.
Looking over he could see the human ate some processed, crusty yellow sticks with a glob of white. A small bowl held greenish water in which some spots of different density floated at the surface. From his research last night, it most likely was some kind of soup. At the bottom swam, what he thought could have been plants at some point. Bobbing up and down with the scooping of the “spoon” were a few red sticks, a root maybe?
So fixated was he, that he didn’t notice the human flicker his eyes in his direction every so often. After a while the human awkwardly cleared his throat.
“So… you have some questions?”
Startled he almost leaped out of from the bench. Fighting for composure he sat back down and gathered his thoughts. He completely forgot about eating his Tlor´p.
“W-well.“ With a cough he brought his voice back under control. “I am sorry if I disturbed you. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“No, it´s fine. We humans get that a lot. I guess it´s about food? My name is George, by the way.”
“Tom, for humans. I am quite new around here, never before talked with a human.” He noticed that he was about to start rambling and forced himself to get to the point. “Yesterday, when we sat together, I noticed what you ate and couldn’t identify it, at all. After a bit of reading up on the topic I still don’t understand. Could you…”
“Ah! Sure. I love cooking, or talking about cooking, or eating… or talking. As you can see from what I wear, I am a cook. I work at a traditional medieval inn. The white Apron I wear is a symbol of… Let’s see, we should probably start with the basics.”
Pushing his plates to sit next to Tom´s Tlor´p, human George leaned forward and began. “Let´s see, to answer your question, I will have to reach back quite a bit. We have a broader range of edible items than your species does. We are what we call omnivores, capable of eating plants and animals alike, opening up more options than your carnivorous diet.”
“That Tlor´p here would be considered disgusting. Humans can eat raw meat, but such quantity´s wouldn´t be healthy for us. Also, there is blood pooling on the plate and worse, even feathers still attached to it.”
Looking up at him Tom could see he was serious. ‘I think it looks delicious.’
Pointing at the different foodstuffs on his plate, human George continued. “The yellow sticks are fried potatoes, often eaten together with mayonnaise. That’s the white stuff over there. In the soup are many different kinds of vegetables and even a few chunks of cooked meat. The red sticks are carrots, also a type of root, like the potatoes.”
“If you are new here, that means you haven’t seen the farms outside of Vanalinn. Really worth a trip. You should always know how your food was produced.” I could only nod at that. Grandpa would turn in his grave if he knew how much I relied on others for food. I should at least see how they hunted this delicious Tlor´p.
Leaning back on the bench human George relaxed a bit before continuing. “The farms are using rotating cylinders much like Vanalinn, but much, much smaller. Inside, the microgravity helps the plants orient themselves. To reduce the strain on the equipment we use hydroponics, as dirt isn´t cheap, and just weights too much. In the old days we used open farms, down on a planet’s surface. But that wasn’t sustainable as we can get much more surface area by disassembling the radiation blasted rocks altogether.”
“Getting food to a station like Vanalinn from outside would be a needlessly complex logistical nightmare, some specialized stuff though, like pineapples or blueberries have whole community´s dedicated to growing them and just them.”
“When we really want quantity though, we grow the plant or meat cells in giant, multi ton reactors. We collect the sludge after multiplying them and use special, edible glues mostly derived from their own connective tissue, to give them the form we associate with the fruits and meats. It wouldn’t surprise me if that Tlor´p you eat never once used its muscles or even had a brain.”
Blinking in confusion Tom looked down at the cooling corpse. He couldn’t see a difference at all. There was muscle meat, blood vessels, different organs, heck, everything was tied to the bones by connective tissue! It had a ribcage, arms for flying and legs for walking. Colorful feathers were still stuck inside cooling skin. No way was this artificial.
But despite the revelation at the end, most of it was already known by Tom. A lot of it was in the forums he had sifted through the night before. There was one thing he really wanted to know though and just had to ask.
“Disturbing things, like how the Tlor´p was made instead of hunted, aside. How and why do you cook all of your food? It looks nothing like the produce it started as and the processing sounds, to be frank with you, rather disgusting, with you using fire and all.”
Human George gave a snort at that. “Yeah, a bit. You can of course get organically grown stuff, but the prices are just through the roof! Anyway, I was getting to that part. And the way we made that Tlor´p is absolutely relevant to the discussion of how and why.”
Looking at his clock he interrupted himself. “But maybe we should eat instead of talking. I need to be back at work in a minute.”
Glancing at his own clock, Tom began to dig into his food more ferociously than a starving Worf´le. The bones still had a good amount of meat clinging to them when he marched to the collection trolley. Human George had simply put the bowl to his mouth and drank his cooled down soup in big gulps, before stuffing himself with the sticks of Veggie imitate.
Human George turned around and gave Tom his number. Both agreed to meet after work and discuss things when both had a bit more time at hand.
Human George leisurely walked away, while Tom still had to wash up. Blood was clinging to his fur in big clumpy spots. He spent a long time washing it out, getting presentable for his job. Nobody noticed when he stealthily made his way toward a seat in the back, for another presentation from his older colleagues.
------------------------------------ γ ------------------------------------
It was quite late now; the simulated sun was starting to sink beneath the sea of ads and the sky was slowly dimed down. We had agreed to meet at the food stall, as it was easily reachable for both of us.
I was a bit nervous. I knew of course that Vanalinn wouldn’t just burst open like the pressure can that it was, but I still needed time to adjust and come to grips with the mental image of a stray particle colliding with us like a fusion bomb. I would rather be in the safety of a building, as they at least had the ability to hold an atmosphere in the worst-case scenario. But human George insisted on a small walk through the park.
After pleasantry’s were exchanged, I asked my questions. “As I said before, I don’t really understand the religious(?) rituals humans go through before eating. I would like some context to the lengths you go through to acquire new species of plants and animals, as well as the, frankly ridiculous, preparation rituals.”
Human George blinked at that. “What made you think there was religious significance attached to cooking? I mean, there are a good number of rituals attached to food, but most of it is just normal everyday cooking.”
Passing a streetlight and turning to him I raised my eye ridge. “Well, they are the most elaborate set of instructions I have come across for something as simple as eating. The Va´an mostly just pluck leaves from bush and tree and the Sem´ais eat their hunt whole, Organs and all.”
Humming a bit while walking on ahead, human George gave it a bit of thought. After a while I followed behind. We crossed a little stream, using the small but beautifully decorated wooden bridge to reach the pond area. Insects fluttered to and from, seeming to dance in the fading light.
“Cooking is as old as humanity itself. Maybe even older. There were other tool users before us, banging rocks together, inventing fire, the works. Distant relatives of us. Old stone tools were found, some 1,7 Million years old. They seem to have been used for cooking using hot Vulcanic water, as fire just wasn’t a thing back then. Most of the really early stuff is shrouded in mystery and probably always will be.”
“The use of fire restructured us from the ground up. Humans are a species of the savanna, developing during an ice age. No natural protection, no weapons of our own, no fur to keep us warm. In fact, the human body is hyper focused on loosing heat. We always were wanders, walking the whole earth barely after the invention of language, maybe even before that. Imagine the benefit to just make heat in a place of perpetual ice and snow.”
I nodded. It made sense; I suppose. Such a skill would be useful to a wandering species. We ourselves never roamed far from our birthplace. Most of the planet too hostile for us to bother with.
“But fire is hard to control. We most likely torched ourselves more often than our enemy.” He gave a laugh at that, while I shuddered at the thought of fire flashing through my fur.
“Anyways. After a while we managed to collect enough knowledge on how to use it. And though the early techniques are shrouded in mystery, we can still make a guess. Without containers to use, our ancestors most likely just dug a hole in the ground, using fired stones to heat up water. Sticks held up meat without burning hands and covering the food in leaves and mud made not-burning the meal easier. After a while big eggs and tightly woven baskets were used as well.”
“As you can imagine, there was no concern about cleanliness. There was a dire need to innovate, so we fired clay and smelted metals. The groundwork was laid. The use of cooking lies in the chemical reactions. Tissue was broken down, proteins coagulated, connective tissue gels, fat liquefies and starch gelatinizes. Minerals are freed and flavoring is produced. In short, we got more out of our food for the same amount of work.” He gave a shrug, as if that wasn’t a big deal.
“Our biology reacted by developing bigger brains and smaller jaws, bringing the problems of civilization and bad teeth. The sterilizing effect of flames were also appreciated and got integrated in our earliest myths. I imagine shamans blessing the hunt and rituals around food to be the groundwork of our modern religions. But let´s not get into that.”
I nodded. I dearly wanted to know more about how they came to prepare food, so the religious significance could wait for a while. And so far, it made sense. “Then the overcomplication of your food preparation grew from there. Using more and more elaborate ways to get more out of your food.”
He gave me a thumbs up. But faltered mid motion and gave me an ambivalent shrug. “Yes, kind of. I guess, humans are really weak compared to most of the other species out there. Over the course of our evolution we lost the ability to produce several key molecules necessary to sustain our bodies. We got them in abundance from our food instead, so the ability to produce them was no longer needed. In turn that left us vulnerable, requiring us to eat a greater variety of food than the galactic average.”
“But that also made us creative. Today we put “poison” in the form of spices in our food, so Rats and Bacteria won’t eat it. We use a roaring fire or liquid nitrogen, a water bath and even plasma chambers to prepare the most different of dishes and invented a staggering number of metal-, plastic- and earthenware tools to manipulate them.”
I shook my head. “That sounds so strange. At least that is what I would have said yesterday.”
We had walked for a good while already and I was starting to tire. Human George was right, the sights at night are very different than at daylight. I would have to properly thank him. But before I could voice my thanks he had another idea. “How about you come to my place tomorrow and we cook together. Would be much easier to grasp the ideas with an actual demonstration, than purely by words.”
Tom looked thoughtful at that. “If you think it necessary. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Cut it out, you are always welcome!” Human George had that mischievous smile on his face again. Though nodding, Tom wasn’t so sure anymore.
------------------------------------ δ ------------------------------------
They had decided to take the scenic route back to human George´s place. The inner city had a few statues of famous people, arranged as a centerpiece to the winding roads and alleys. Tom even saw the first ambassador among the lineup of mostly human inventors, the first of his people to talk with the greater Galactic community.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Small shops attracted a bustling crowd, selling everything and nothing. The Architecture was imitating the early human city´s. Few buildings reached higher than 3 stories and plants were used to break up the roads and buildings made from the sintered regolith of the Asteroid they lived inside. A cool breeze tussled Tom´s fur as leaves crunched satisfyingly under their feet.
The great telescope cloud was finally online, producing its first set of data. At the moment they animatedly discussed the latest anomaly one of the data miners discovered. It was top secret information, which meant that everyone and their mother knew about it.
“I keep telling you, it has to be a glitch.” Tom was exasperated. He just wanted to be back inside in the relative safety of a house sized lifepod.
“And what if it isn’t? Maybe it will give us new insights into microblackhole creation.”
“You are way to confident. Do you want them to blow up another trillion credits worth of equipment that much?”
Human George didn’t even breath in his excitement, completely ignoring Tom´s valid concerns. “The few credits would mean nothing if we manage to perfect the system. Just think about the possibility of energy storage or what taming them for propulsion would mean.”
Tom scoffed at that. Such innovations were still way out of reach. “Dreamer. Let’s just wait and see what the experts say.”
They had left the bustling city a while ago and were walking the winding pathways of the residential district. Still deep in discussion, they didn’t notice that they had already arrived. Tom was following human George´s lead as he walked right past his own doors.
Taking the short walk up to his house, human George kept talking while searching for his key. Very nearly missing the small cleaning droid with a knife taped to its side. The small cluster of carved pumpkins concealed it perfectly, only a warning glint of metal gave it´s position away.
Grumbling the rest of the way, he fished out a card as they made their way up the stairs.
Keeping the droid in his sight Tom hesitantly voiced his concerns. “I honestly don’t know if I will ever understand your race. I saw one of these at work today, it seems to be some kind of human tradition?”
“Don’t sweat the small stuff. Anyway, here we are.”
With a swipe of his card the door to human George’s apartment slid open. While it was fashioned to look like a typical Villa of the Victorian era, the visible part was really just the tip of the iceberg. Should an emergency occur, the house would disengage and slide out of its place on the gigantic O´Niels hull. The airlocks on door and window, capable of withstanding even the void of space.
Quickly walking in through the double doors, Tom felt safer again. On the left stood a bench with a few fluffy pillows, taking up most of this side of the small lobby. The other side was occupied by some exotic plants, nearly covering the view outside.
“Have the old ones withered again? God damn it.”
The following shout of human George startled Tom out of his thoughts. “Honey! I´m home! And I brought a guest.”
One of the many doors further down the hallway opened, revealing a slender Va´an wearing a red and white apron. She towered over the both of them, nearly a head taler than even Tom. Her lean legs quickly moved her closer in a graceful float. Four Arms embraced Human George, two still covered in oversized oven mittens.
After some Kisses on rocky hide and pink flesh respectively, could the introductions begin.
“Tom, this is my wife Inali, Inali, this is Tom.”
Giving him a very human grin, Inali welcomed Tom in their house. “Nice to meet you. It is good to see my husband still having a knack for making fast friends. Sometimes I worry if there is even enough space in our home to house them during party´s. Speaking of, will you be here tomorrow as well?”
“Is there some kind of festivity tomorrow?”
Pushing a stray crystal hair out of her sight, Inali beckoned him into the house proper. “Tomorrow is Halloween. A human tradition with murky origins. Human George had so much fun decorating the house. How do you like it?”
“I was honestly at a loss.” Stopping in horror he choked out “Are those supposed to be human remains?”
She chuckled. “Yes, but don’t worry. They are made in a factory, though I suppose they are made out of ossein and carbonated hydroxyapatite. They are supposed to better capture the spirit of the decoration, as they are made of the same stuff as the real deal.” She looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“Imagine my surprise waking up one morning, lying next to a human skeleton.”
“Your screams were worth it.”
She narrowed her eyes hat him. “Yours were as well.”
“Point taken.” His bright smile made her punch him in the shoulder. Fleeing with laughter they reached the kitchen. Tom followed after some contemplation, leaving the dark oak hallway.
The couple stood in the middle of a brightly lit kitchen, hugging and kissing before struggling apart. Human George was laughing, trying to keep her in his arms. “What are you making? It smells divine in here!”
“Will you let me go! We have a guest.” He gave her another kiss.
She gave out an exacerbated sigh. “If you continue with this, I will reconsider having pancakes tomorrow morning!”
Human George finally let go. “I will behave!”
He let her go and took purposeful steps over to one corner of the room. There he bent down to take a look through a glass pane which was set in a part of a low wall. Tom on the other hand didn’t know what to make of all the different tools and utensils hanging from walls and filling cabinets.
“I´m preparing a Tlor´p for tomorrow. Today we will eat the leftovers of the last few days. Don’t think you can get away this time, by magicking up something else!” The playful threat was uttered by picking up a butcher’s knife.
Carefully, human George took it from her hands. “Better be a good husband and eat that then.”
The entire time Tom stood and watched the interaction play out. He didn’t know Humans or Va´an for that long and nearly intervened a couple of times, but it all went well in the end.
Human George spoke again. “When will the Tlor´p be finished you think? I wanted to bake some cookies with Tom.”
“Should be done soon. I just added the last pour of stock.” Hanging up her apron she looked at the clock. “Give it 10-20 min and it should be fine. I still need to prepare the attic, please call me when the Tlor´p is finished.”
“K, see you later.”
Inali put away her apron and waved them both goodbye. While Tom crouched before the oven with a complicated expression, human George went to the fridge and opened two rather large beer for the two of them.
“I thought the Va´an were herbivorous. How come she´s cooking an animal?”
Human George gave a snort at that. “Just because she is vegetarian doesn’t mean she can´t prepare something for other people. The guest’s tomorrow are mostly human and let me tell you, most of us really love meat.”
Handing a cold one to him and taking a sip from the other he began. “Now, the first thing we do in the kitchen is cleaning our hands and get protective equipment.”
“Will things explode?” He was a bit leery after the tall stories his colleagues told him at work. Human ingenuity seemed to be inexplicably linked to explosions and fire.
Laughing it off, his human friend gave him a frilly blue apron. “No, I guess you met some other humans at work? We can get dirty, but that´s it. I believe this is your first time in the kitchen, so for today, why don’t you just observe. Please ask when something seems strange to you.”
He gave a non-committal snort. “I can deal with getting a bit dirty. I believe you saw me eat. I will just wash up afterwards like always.”
After receiving a critical eye from his new friend, he gave up and put on the little piece of fabric and went to wash his arms and paws. He felt rather ridiculous in the frilly cloth. It didn’t even fully cover him. Human George seemed to agree, as he snickered and “sneakily” took a photo.
‘Stay stoic Tom.’
“So, how about I give you a little tour of the kitchen. You already know the oven. It is used to heat up our food. It is pretty essential for human food preparation and will be used today as well.”
Bewilderment crossed his face, quickly replaced with disgust. “You know my species doesn’t like heated anything. It may have lessened in recent Generations, but that doesn’t mean we like warm food.”
“Cookies don’t have to be eaten warm. Heat may be used in the production process, but that doesn’t mean it has to be warm when eaten.”
“If you say so.”
“Now, let me tell you what these tools are for.”
Eventually a timer began to beep and the kitchen was cleared. Inali was called and the kitchen was cleared for them. She decided to sit and watch the spectacle. If her hunch was correct, what was about to happen should be good.
------------------------------------ ε ------------------------------------
Rummaging in one cabinet or the other, human George produced a bunch of items. Tom already felt lost and confused at seeing the equipment pile up which they were presumably going to use. “What is it that we are going to make anyway?”
“You know, I am a cook a few streets down where we first met. I checked with my colleagues what you can safely eat and as it turns out, if you don’t eat too much, a small amount of plants won’t hurt you.”
“Yeah? We usually get enough carbohydrates and vitamins from whatever is in the stomach of our hunt. Though, I try to avoid it, as the taste is not the best.”
Human George gave a small nod, pulling a grimace. “I can´t imagine eating that. So, I actually stumbled upon this really nice recipe from good old Earth. Perfect for this kind of weather and season! What do you think?”
He gave me a list of ingredients and a pretty long description of how to prepare them. My eyes roamed helplessly over the page.
´Where should I even begin?’ The title on top didn’t lessen my confusion.
‘What are Apple pie cookies?’ None of the words meant anything to me.
My thoughts were interrupted by human George again. “Have you checked if there is anything you might react badly to?”
“Should be fine…” I had no idea.
Clapping his hands to get my attention he started grabbing ingredients. “So, first order of business is to make the crust. It needs a bit of time in the fridge. We can use the time, then, to prepare the filling. Can you grab me the Crain flour? That is the white, purplish powder in the paper bag. Should be somewhere in this cabinet over there.”
I had no idea what ‘flour’ was supposed to be, but I was determined to get it for him. As I searched for this ‘flour’ he set up some equipment, I supposed, was for weighing out the right amounts. All the way he explained the history and importance of this ‘flour’ to me.
“Flour is very important for humans. It is used to make many different kinds of bread and pastries. We didn’t actually evolve to eat grains, but fruits and meat. Grazing animals would eat them, and we figured, why not cut out the middle men?”
With a mischievous smile Inali added: “As flour is basically just starch, flames will burn it quite rapidly, if dispersed in the air. Better not have an ignition source near when working with it.”
I looked him in the eyes. “You’re joking.”
“Nah. She likes to be dramatic. As long as you handle it correctly, there is nothing to fear. There will be no explosions in this kitchen. Anyways, Inali, please don’t disturb him too much.”
“Will be kind of hard to do, as you have some truly disturbing things in the fridge.”
“Hush now, we will leave the questionable items for later.” Turning to me, he casually picked up where he left off. “As I explained yesterday, cooking is the ability to get more nutrients out of the same amount of food, or making it edible in the first place. You can leach toxins out of nuts, or break down proteins and starches by heating them up. Cooking pots and ovens essentially are an extension of our digestive tract.”
Her grin was stretched to breaking. While Tom was pulling a grimace.
“That sounds incredibly disgusting. Sort of like fly’s, that spit their stomach acids on their food to liquify it.” I had searched through the whole pantry and still hadn’t found the flour.
Human George at first blanched at that. Recovering quickly, he gave a chuckle. “Ok, when you put it like that… The flour is a level higher. The whiteish powder in a paper bag.”
A low grumble escaped my throat. I had searched the wrong shelf.
“Good. I got the rest of the ingredients already. Now, we want 300 grams of Crain flour as the base and 50 grams of lunatte sugar for sweetness. The natural sugars this plant produces gives a softer taste then the processed kind. We will be making a dessert. A highly prized type of food you only eat a little of. Usually a main dish will be eaten beforehand, to satisfy nutrient intake.”
“Food you eat after eating food… Okay.” You couldn’t make this shit up.
His hands never stopped moving. With uncanny speed and without really looking at the scale he measured the required amounts.
“Now we need a bit of spice. 2,5 grams of salt, it enhances the flavors. Also, 2,4 grams of ground cinnamon will give a heavenly aroma”
Taking the bowl from the scale he plunged his hands in without hesitation and gave it a few tosses. “This is why we need the aprons. The dust clings to my hands and puffs of flour will get absolutely everywhere as we mix it all together.”
“I don’t understand the purpose of the dust? What is this ‘crust’ talked about in the recipe?”
“The crust is the backed dough. It will be like a crumbly, edible bowl, containing the filling. To get the dough to become like a good clay – moldable – we must add the next two ingredients. First will be butter.”
“Like clay?” I was confused now. ‘Like dirt of the road? This was getting more confusing, not less!’
“Ahh, well. Only in the sense that it can be formed to our wishes.” He put another container on the scale. This time a shallow plastic bowl.
“I will put in 225 grams of unsalted butter, straight out of the fridge.” With one cut of his knife he put the required amount in the container. His augments doing the measuring for him. I think he got the scale just to show it off to me.
“Butter is a milkfat. Better if we leave this discussion for another time.”
“You sure? Would be really entertaining though.” Inali was swirling some red liquid in a bowl like glass container, occasionally sipping from it.
“Hush now. No remarks from the peanut gallery.”
Turning to me again he continued. “The secret to get the crust to crumble satisfyingly under our touch is to mix the butter in a way that it stays intact. We want granules smaller than about pea size. This way it won’t be too flaky and can be molded better.”
“That seems like a really unnecessary step. Wouldn’t it be better to melt the butter and mix it in this way … so they would be more homogenous?” I didn’t get the obsession with flaky food.
“Sure, if you like it better that way. I prefer to fight my food a little though. Now, this step would be easier with a food processor, but mine broke down last week and I still haven’t gotten around to get a new one. So, I will have to do it by hand.”
With a sigh that spoke of defeat he got to work. Briefly he thought about getting some help from his friend, but a single glance in his direction immediately made him reconsider. Tom had way too much hair on his paws. That would simply end in a disgusting mess.
“We humans used to do everything by hand, but damn, some proper tools would be nice right about now! When kneading by hand we have to be careful, our body temperature would melt the butter. Something we need to avoid. Even in a proper mixer you would want to add about 3-4 teaspoons of ice water to keep everything nice and chill. I think we can put in some more? Don’t want to have too much liquid in it though.”
He worked the water into the white mess in the bowl, slowly forming clumps. After just a short while he had a big, white blob.
“It really looks like clay. Doesn’t look too appetizing to me.”
He gave a chuckle at that. “You would be surprised by how many of us love raw cookie dough. OK, now that that is done, we put the ball into some plastic wrap and roll it into a sheet. Ideally it would stay in the fridge overnight. But about 30 minutes should be enough.”
“You give me an awful lot of should. Why aren’t we doing as is recorded in the recipe?”
“You have to be flexible in the kitchen. Adapt, improvise, overcome!”
Inali gave a snort at that.
I blinked. Did he quote something? The way he stressed the last three words was just odd. But before I could get something out, he changed again. Charging over into another part of the kitchen.
“On to the filling!” At least he seems to have fun.
------------------------------------ ζ ------------------------------------
“On to the filling!” At least he seems to have fun. Skipping over to a corner full of equipment and strange balls, he came back carrying three of them.
“These are apples. First, we peel them. Then, we can slice the flesh from their cores. After all, you eat with your eyes.”
I openly gapped at him. “It´s a fruit, I presume?” He gave a nod at that. “Still sounds barbaric, the way you described that.”
With a snort he dumped them in my arms and turned on the spot. Some strange knives and a bowl of water were set before me at the table. A few old papers followed while I studied the twisted metal.
“What are those for? They seem really useless to me.”
“What? Oh! Yeah, they are specialty knives. Not really useful for anything other than peeling. We mostly use them for organic carrots.”
He sat down and explained to me how to use them. They lay awkwardly in my paws and kept sliding over the skin of the fruit without any effect. Meanwhile, human George kept at it. Slicing ribbons meters long in one continues strip of the little balls. Frustrated I gave up and gave the battered and bruised fruit to my friend.
I had noticed that he dipped the peeled apples into the water and was curious about it.
“Say, why do you dunk them in there?”
“Ah, that water has a bit of lemon extract in it. The citric acid prevents the peeled apples from turning brown. Not harmful in any way, but they look nicer if you do.”
With a flourish he produced a really long knife. I was contemplating whether or not I had offended him in any way, when he brought it down upon the apple like a maniac.
Inali stood up and put a hand on his. With a frown she made him promise not to do this again. “Please don’t split the board apart. They were a gift from my mother.”
“Sorry.” He gave a sheepish grin towards Inali which seemed to mollify her.
“Good. The Apples are peeled, we only need to slice them into small, even blocks. We toss them with a bit of lemon zest, that is the skin of a lemon, or, alternatively, we could use a bit of juice from the same fruit, add 136 grams of lunatte sugar, 1,2 grams of ground cinnamon and just a pinch of nutmeg. I absolutely love this stuff, so maybe a bit more.”
He did as he said and sprang up when he finished. Taking a piece of butter, he walked to the black field on the Sideboard.
“Put 56 grams of butter in a pot and melt it on medium heat. My stove works with electrical induction, but I would still not recommend touching where a pot was heated. Add to the apples and cook them down until the sugar melts, then cover it up and we let them sit on medium low for about 10 min.”
I was getting a bit brown in the eyes (a sign of disgust). It was interesting, alright, but… it was all just so opaque to me. “Why? Why would you heat things up?”
“Hmm, the apple will lose its bite. Sorry, I mean, it will be more like a paste. I would like to keep the pieces intact, so we won’t mash them up though.”
Didn’t make sense to me, but Ok.
“Well, at least it’s not as bad as you made it sound at first. This looks way cleaner than puking on your food and eating the remains.”
Human George scrunched up his face. “Just let go of this already. That’s disgusting.”
I gave a snort at that. What we thought of as disgusting were so dissimilar. “Ok, what next. As overcomplicated as it was already, I can tell you are not done yet.”
“Yep. We strain the juice from the soft apples and thicken it up over medium heat until nice and caramelly. Then we put the apples and sirup back together.”
“Right.” I gave the mixture a skeptical eye. ‘Just what did we do to the poor apples?’
“Next to prepare would be the caramel. Caramel is sugar that, at about 170°C, broke down and reformed into various products, giving it a characteristic brown coloring and flavor. First, we get 200 grams of our sugar and mix it with 118 milliliter heavy cream and 2,5 grams of salt. Wisk it together and stir it at medium heat. You really don’t want to forget to stir!”
“Despite everything, I really like the smell of this one.”
“I know, right! Keep on reducing it until it bubbles and thickens up, then we add the last ingredient. 15 milliliter Vanilla extract.”
“Why didn’t we add it with the other stuff?”
Human George chuckled. “That would have been a disaster. If we don’t add it last, there will be too much water in there. We would get a sticky mess instead of caramel. Please get me that bowl. It needs to cool down before we proceed.”
The used and dirty equipment, at this point, was piling up in the sink. I dumped the pot in which he made the caramel unceremoniously next to the other stuff. But before I could pour any water inside, Human George gave out a yelp and snatched the pot away.
“Don’t just waste the precious!”
Dragging his naked and unclawed fingers through the cooling pot he gave a yelp at the heat, but gathered up a substantial amount of gooey substance. “Ow!”
“Idiot!” Inali sprang up from where she sat, worry on her face. “What were you thinking? You need to wait until it cools down.”
“The best thing about cooking for yourself is getting to taste whatever stays in the pot.” He looked at me, mumbling around the finger in his mouth. “But make sure not to make my mistake.”
I plopped myself into a seat and facepalmed. I gave a stifled groan. ‘What am I even doing here? What is happening?’
It took him several minutes to cool his finger under water. When he finally finished and set the pot down, there were caramel smudges on his face.
------------------------------------ η ------------------------------------
“Want to continue? It won’t take that much longer.”
A sigh escaped my lips. “Ok, what’s next?”
He gave a nod towards the flour. “First, we clean the counter, then we put a sprinkle of flour on the counter.”
“It won’t explode?”
He gave an annoyed huff. “Of course not. Please take the dough out of the fridge. It needs to be warm enough that it won’t crack.”
I opened the fridge and admired the sheer variety of stuff that was in there. Jars in all shapes and sizes. Some boxes, and even more flasks. There were even several things wrapped in plastic in one corner. I couldn’t even begin to guess at what they were all for. I chose to ignore them all and instead got the dough out.
I handed it to Human George. “A bit cold. Maybe we need to wait a tad longer.”
He unwrapped it anyways and placed it on the patch of purplish-white dust. Using my superior height, I looked over his shoulder. ‘Great, more of the white stuff’, I rolled my eyes.
“What is the white stuff for? Is the dough not finished already?”
“Oh, no. The dough is finished. The flour keeps it from sticking to the rolling pin. Look! I got a fancy one made from granite!”
He grasped at something above him.
“Human George, it is ridiculous how many cupboards you have.”
“You think so? Sometimes I wish I had more space. There is so much more stuff I would like to have.”
At that Inali stood up and interjected. “Absolutely not. We already don’t know where to put everything. You will not get yet another gadget to gather dust in a corner.” She made it to his side, all of her arms folded in a display of unhappiness.
I gave a snort. “Human like shiny.” I reached for the stone tool and gave it to him. It was mystifying me as to why he would store it up there.
He gave me a brilliant smile in return. “Indeed! Human like shiny! If you want, Inali could show you her rock collection.”
“Maybe later.” I wasn’t too keen on yet another human insanity just yet. One that seems to have spread to another species at that.
Instantly forgetting that she was supposed to be angry at human George, Inali gushed about her collection. “Oh, I need to show you my Tourmaline. I just got it last month. Its colors are beautiful. Or the clear, blue Topaz. Its cut is a recreation of an ancient pattern from Earth. Human George got it for me for our engagement.”
Giving her a quick peck on the cheek he instead turned to me. “I think you have no choice in the matter. Now, if you are already up there, maybe you could get me the cookie cutters. I need the round ones. Largest you can find.”
Some rummaging later and I produced the required artifact. In the meantime, he had already rolled out the dough.
“The dough was still a bit cold. We should have gotten it out sooner. No matter! With a bit of pinching, all is well. Now we need to hurry up. Don’t want it to stick to the table.”
Picking up the circular band of metal he cut the dough into round shapes. The rest he bunched together and cut strips out of. Naturally, I had questions.
“What are you doing now? Why the strips? Why the circles?”
“The circle will be our base. On it we will put the filling. As for the strips, they will hold the filling to the base, so that nothing will spill out. The Strips need to be about half an inch thick to weave. Could you get me an egg? They are stored in the refrigerator door.”
Trotting away I left him to his task. He seemed absorbed by it. Rearranging the counter, he put the filling and caramel nearer to the tray. The cut-out circles were placed on the tray, or rather, a brown paper.
“We split the egg like so: take it in one hand and get a glass ready. Crack the egg on the counter and pull it apart, while holding onto the two halves. I guess you should do it another way, as no one would like hairs in their egg. Don’t forget to check for stray pieces of the shell and smell if they are still good.”
“What are you doing with it now?”
“I will use it as an edible glue.”
“A glue?” Aaaand, I was lost again. ‘Weren’t we making dessert just now?’
“What is it you want to glue together? I guarantee you there are more effective products on the market.”
Rolling his eyes, he rummaged in yet another drawer for something else. “Hand me the cream please.”
Looking over the chaos we have made in the kitchen, I, nonetheless, found what was required.
“Wisk the egg together with a tablespoon of cream and put some on the dough. Take a spoon and spread some caramel in the middle and put 1 ½ tablespoons of apple filling on top. Now we can put down the first layer of the lattice. The egg wash, as it is called, will glue the rim to the strips and give it color.”
‘Well, that explains the “glue”.’
He didn’t slow down and simply continued. “Finally, the second layer. We could do a weave. But I think that goes a bit too far for today. I like them just the way they are. Use a knife to cut the ends of the strips to length, but use the cookie cutter to clean the sides. For the finish, a last paint of egg wash and some sprinkles of sugar. The crystals will catch the light, then put them in the oven at 463°K.”
After he built each cookie, he put them in the oven. Human George stood up and stretched. Turning to me he put a hand on my shoulder. “Ok, buddy. Let’s sit and talk. We have about 20 minutes until they are ready and I imagine you have a few more questions.”
We talked a bit more, while the heat did something to the white not-clay. Both of them dutifully answering the array of questions I had gathered over the last hour. About the equipment and set up, the architecture of the cookies and how I just couldn’t wrap my head around the process.
“I mean, honestly. How did your species come up with this mess of instructions? It feels like gradual improvement shouldn’t be enough of an answer.”
Just as human George was about to answer, a timer beeped. At the infernal noise of the egg-shaped-timer, human George leaped from his seat and perched himself in front of the oven. Old instincts kicked in and had me nearly topple the chair I sat on.
“By the raging Moon-Emperor. Human George! What is going on?”
“I set a timer, so we wouldn’t forget the cookies.” The answer he gave was distracted. “Hmm, do you think the color is good now?”
“What?” Still a bit confused I made my way over to him. Thankfully, the noisy thing was quiet now.
“I think they need a bit more… Ah, but I really don’t want to burn them. And they smell so nice already! I want them now.”
To me, they looked… different? They were indeed a deeper shade of orange, but as I had never cooked before I would have to rely on his judgement.
Grabbing a hold of the oven door, human George leaned back until he was supported by the legs of his wife. Looking up he asked. “Should I? Should I not? Ah, the hell! I want them now!”
He stood up as abruptly as he sat down and opened the door with a flourish. Sitting to the side and away, hot steam still blasted into my face.
“Behold! The pinnacle of human fall-themed desserts. The Apple Pie cookies!”
I was pawing at my face to get the slight stinging sensation to stop and didn’t notice how he got some mittens on his hands and the tray out of the oven.
“They are still sizzling hot, so don’t eat them just yet. Better use the time to set the table.”
Flittering around myself he got some more equipment out of even more drawers. I once again stood by and watched him rummaging around. After a while I decided to just sit down. I was only in the way anyway.
“The recipe produces not that many cookies for a whole lot of work, but it is worth it.” He placed a plate in front of me and gave a small sigh before continuing.
“I have to warn you though. You can eat them, but more than half a cookie will be bad for you. Nothing serious, but let’s not tempt fate. I recommend to get a good whop of whipped cream.”
Before sitting down again he made sure that everyone got their share. While I was a bit cross that I only got to eat half a cookie after all that work, I didn’t want to risk it.
Fresh out of the oven as they were, there was still steam coming off from them. I´m not gonna lie, it triggered my disgust response. ‘Had my species not been discovered by a human exploratory mission, we would not have made it to space in a billion years. Fire was just too dangerous for us and our response to it too strong. Our fur would be set aflame in seconds, so nature decided to give us a healthy dose of NOPE whenever we would encounter something too hot. Humans didn´t seem to have gotten the memo. The pyromaniacs.’
Grumbling a bit at seeing their delighted faces, I watched Inali´s mouth-parts working to grind the cookie into dust. It made me question the whole procedure again. Why were we doing all this again, if it was to be ground to dust anyways?
I waited for my share to cool down. Despite everything, I was excited to taste human food. The endless preparation had to be good for something, right?
When it was finally cool enough for me to try, they had already eaten the rest of the cookies. The whipped cream was also nearly gone at this point. I scraped the rest together and placed a good amount of it on top of my half and tried my best with the provided utensils. The Crust was flakey, as advertised. The filling gleamed in the light and was scattered by sugar crystals wherever it wasn’t covered by the white stuff. The blocks of fruit reminded me of jewels.
I had admired it for a while now, unwilling to bite into the little lattice wonder.
Finally, I took a bite.
It was heaven in the clutch of my claws. The taste divinely sweet, pushing the fruit to the forefront of my thoughts. The scent almost overpowering, but in a good way. The crust crumbling to nothing but bliss on my tongue.
I felt my eyes water. How could I ever go back to that gruel I ate out of the stomach of my hunt? I vowed then and there, that I would find better ways to satisfy my nutritional needs in the way of plants. After I came back to myself, I noticed his wife giving me a knowing look.
“Human cuisine is the most advanced in the galaxy. It was honestly just a matter of time until they would use what they learned from cooking and develop technology. Just imagine what they can do, if that is the level of preparation necessary just to consume food. Their chemistry and biology is so far ahead of everyone else’s, that most of the time we don’t even know when a human effort stood behind this or that piece of knowledge.”
“While humans are way above the average galactic intelligence index, that comes at the expense of everything else. No natural weapons and a strong dependance on a variety of foods made them creative. It was their dependance of cooking, that made them very, very good at technology. Good enough to go to space and scrape every other race from their respective radiation blasted rock.”
I was startled from the revelation. I knew that humans uplifted my species, but hadn´t thought that they had done the same with the Va´an, O´kaan and all the others I only heard about.
I sat there, in stunned silence.
“Human George, I require more knowledge.”
------------------------------------ ῼ ------------------------------------