Twisted Futures

Java

Fellow imbibers of the legendary liquid we all crave and adore - coffee - I have always sought Nirvana. Those of you who frequent my column on the Universal Stream (US) will know that for several decades now I have searched for the perfect blend of roasted, steamy perfection. After traveling to thousands of destinations through ten galaxies, (thank you to my sponsors and all of you for keeping my US statistics up to pay for the trips) I believe I can with certainty say I have become the premier expert on the topic and can now enlighten all of my fellow coffeeophiles of all species.

As the ancient Earth Internet blog Foodoversex once stated so eloquently, Coffee, unlike life itself, should be taken very seriously. A good cup of coffee is like sex, magic and love. It's a feeling one can't really define. Despite the now common interstellar travel and the countless diversity of intelligent life, recent surveys demonstrate that for those who can tolerate such beverages, coffee, that ancient Earth derivative from roasted seeds of the coffee berry or coffee cherry, is clearly the most favored beverage, exceeding by nearly double its next closest rival, Ligurian Lazbur Juice.

In ancient times we had two primary types of seed stocks, the Arabica being the most common with lower caffeine content and the Robusta with much more caffeine. Less than 15% of which Earth seed stock exhibited the peaberry, or split bean effect, which slightly increased the flavor. After species have exported the coffee berries across our own universe, though not to others as of yet, the plant has been modified, experimented upon, and grown in a multitude of locales, soils and hydroponic laboratories. For the connoisseur this has created both a multitudinous joy of flavors and blends, but has also left us gasping for the answer to our unquenchable thirst - namely, who makes the best cup of coffee?

I started my seemingly endless quest long ago to seek out this answer and broadcast it to everyone. If I were to die before finding an answer, so be it, for what greater pursuit can there be?

My most recent travels took me to a place I had never intended to travel. Caught up in the constant gravitational storm delays on Pernicious Prime, I found myself trapped at the teleport terminal with nothing but StellarBean shops on every corner. I know, many of you toss big credits to this chain of coffee dispensaries found seemingly everywhere in the known universe. Still, while at the lower end of the culinary scale, one can force the concoctions down ones throat, StellarBean is over-priced with just a modicum of quality. The brewing machines are nothing more than flashing lights combined with gizmos that make grinding and gurgling sounds while squirting the pre-manufactured drink out of a bag hidden behind the mystical metal screen.

I could no longer stand still with the mediocrity and had to make an escape, however brief, from the species stacked on top of one another in the planetwide city of Pernicious Prime. They stopped trying to count at some point, but I believe the guide information stated the population is over one hundred trillion on this commercial hub.

Not willing to deviate too much from my plans to visit the coffee rich planet of Terradayle, I took a shuttle - yes, an actual physical transport vehicle like you heard about in historical downloads - and went to the next planet over. Smaller, virtually unpopulated, the ice covered sphere is farthest from the local star and barely within my species' tolerance for survival. The lump of cold planet was named unoriginally as Pernicious Minor. The whole trip over, until I was inside the station, I had to wear a complete thermal gel covering my entire body to stay alive.

Once inside, the temperature was maintained nice and cozy with some sort of fissile material sitting in metallic pots throughout the colony. I was assured that the glowing rocks posed no medical threat to my species and the radiation produced an excitation of heat but nothing else of permanent concern. After settling into the rustic setting, devoid of most modern technology, I was taken aback by the vistas seen from any location through the transparent perma-frost surfaces. The tableau compensated for the lack of any holodecks or pleasure droids for proper recreation.

The planet at its core was formed of some long solidified ore, heaved up into tall darkened black spires that shot up as islands in a never-ending frozen sea of ice. The ice itself was remarkable for its hues, mainly light blues and greens in the visual spectrum along with some shimmering of pink and even some ultra-violet auroras. I found myself staring at the stark beauty of the tundra, forgetting for a brief moment my life's work. It was my olfactory sensors that brought me around. I smelled something. Coffee brewing...

I followed my noses until I found the source. There, like some looming shadow behind the counter, stood a creature best described as bi-pedal, excessively covered with fur, some three meters tall, with the overall features of a rodent, perhaps a guinea pig. There was a distinct musk about the creature and it sported a set of six claws on each of its two upper appendages half a meter long. Not wishing to be rude, I sent a sly tendril to peak below. It had similar claws on its feet and wore no noticeable attire other than a thick bristly black coat. It looked at me curiously with large bulbous black eyes and sniffed with its whiskers.

Later I learned this person was one of the indigenous species of Pernicious Minor, adapted to the cold with thick fur and able to tunnel into the native metallic stone with those claws. Now days of course, they use terraforming just like everyone else, but they maintained their evolutionary form nonetheless. Non-plussed by his direct stare and sniff, I made sure my translator was on and asked a bit abruptly, May I help you?

He laughed, or at least that is what my sensor told me the shrill squeaking meant. He nodded and winked. I was about to ask you the same thing stranger. May I help you?

Not to be put off my game, wide traveler that I am, I gamely responded, Why yes as a matter of fact. You see I am stuck waiting for my transport to Terradayle to sample their latest vintage of coffee, but the storms are interfering. So, I decided to visit this...er...place. In any case, I smell the distinct aromas of said beverage, and I must say it was a bit of a surprise. Perhaps you can direct me to the source?

He laughed again, this time lower. I thought I recognized you. You're that fellow that travels around for the perfect cup of coffee right?

I was delighted. So you are a fan?

Not at all. All I've seen from you is bullshit.

What? My inner joy turned to anger, then to outrage. My dear Sir, surely you know that I receive more US traffic and have more followers than any other coffee expert in the universe? You obviously have a minority view. I turned and started to go, when I heard a challenge.

It's only that you haven't been here before. It must be fate that brought you here in your wonderings, because I have the best cup of coffee. Right here.

I turned back to him, if it was indeed a male as I presumed, and re-examined his mien. He definitely seemed confident in his statement, though he was merely one of thousands that had made such bold claims. Still, it was true that I had never heard of Pernicious Minor, nor have I ever read they had coffee here. Intrigued, I inquired, Surely that is a bold statement Sir. Perhaps you do have coffee here, but you claim it is by far the best? According to whom?

He leaned forward, a somewhat menacing pose, and clicked his long claws on the counter, eliciting sparks from the smooth perma-steel surface. According to you if you try it.

So the gauntlet had been laid at my own four feet. The challenge was accepted with a grunt of non-committal acquiescence. I stood waiting, daring this charlatan to show me his magic.

He turned and pressed a panel, and the wall swung open to reveal an arboretum of sorts. Inside this artificial burrow, deep within the stony ebon spire on this frozen planet wafted the loamy scent of fresh coffee plants. I could not see how far back the burrow went for it went so deep. Some form of artificial lighting and those fissile heat rocks kept a greenhouse type environment for the plants.

The creature deftly waddled among the plants, carefully sniffing, eyeing, and then selecting a berry here, perhaps another some ten meters further. I lost track of him for some time. I started catching up on my US fan mail, when after awhile I heard the scuffling of his claws as he came back holding a large paw of fresh berries.

He set them on a slide out counter, carefully examining them. He looked over at me in study, and then removed a few berries thoughtfully.

With a tender and exquisite skill, he used a single sturdy pointed claw and with a clearly well-practiced maneuver he removed the seeds, each of which was already split in the peaberry style and perfectly ripe for roasting. These seeds he gathered gently, almost reverently. He placed them carefully in a single layer on a surface. Then with a bound, he leapt over the counter and out a shift in the perma-force floor to the ceiling window. I felt a quick burst of frigid atmosphere.

I watched with interest as he carefully trod the tundra, looking at the ice, and gathering purchase easily with his clawed feet. At a twinkling gleam in the ultra-violet spectrum, he stooped, and using his claws, dug up carefully a particular chunk of the glowing frozen liquid. He strolled quickly back up to the wall and stepped through with another brisk blast of cold.

Leaping back over the counter like an acrobat, he placed the frozen glowing ice next to the seeds. He opened another cabinet with a click, looking for specific glowing stones. Selecting a few, he placed them under the seed pan. The roasting scent was immediate. With a tap he closed that cabinet and opened another, this with a rare type of black opaque coffee mug with a vented covering. I could see dozens like it behind the one he took out, carefully clutching it in his claws.

Over to the seeds he went, adding the chunk of fresh glowing ice with a sudden hiss. Steam rose like prayers to the gods of java as an aroma unlike any in my experience overwhelmed my senses to ecstasy. Watching for just a moment, he quickly used his claws in a blur of motion to eviscerate the seeds, grinding the coffee while in the steaming, still glowing liquid. With further rapidity, he took the pan, lifted it dexterously and poured it with skill, spilling not a drop, through the strange filter atop the cup.

Removing the filter with a flick of a claw point, he shouted, You must drink it now! It is perfect for only the next minute. Then I must throw it out as being inferior.

Without thought I reached out for the beverage and drank. He was so insistent; I took his command as if I was born to obey this creature. His urgency caused me to gulp instead of sip the first mouthful. I was assaulted immediately. Those beings who believe in such things say that Heaven and the immortal realms can only be imagined vaguely, as their true nature is too grand to comprehend. So too was this first taste.

Orgasmic waves of satisfaction roared throughout my body as I drank the blessed brew. I ravished the culmination of all my travels, all my dreams, all my life's work, now complete. Yes, my many followers,he perfect cup of coffee, by far, absolutely transcendent, is to be found at Wixler's on Pernicious Minor.

When I first started this US feed, I never expected to be famous and I certainly never expected to finish my journey, much less to find my discovery in such an unlikely location. Now, I am truly, and in all ways, at rest.

This will be my last column for two reasons. First, having tasted the best cup of coffee ever made in the universe, I am not sure I could ever go on in my life with lesser experiences. Second, although the coffee and the fissile stones used to