My newest short story! I hope you enjoy :)
“One giant leap for mankind” was such a hard line to beat, Julie thought. She spent years and years of her life bettering herself with the singular career goal of becoming an astronaut, and once she knew there was a chance she could be the first human to set foot on Mars, her obsession morphed from her career’s focus to her life’s focus. She worked day and night, and eventually was selected as captain of the first manned trip to Mars.
But what she didn’t realize was how long it would take to get to Mars once she took off. It was a weird thing, having done all of the work and knowing your goal will soon come true, but being completely powerless to make it happen any faster. Her and the crew did tests and had meetings, but regulations mandated that this didn’t take over half of their waking time. This meant that she suddenly had a lot of time to finally think, and one of the things she couldn’t not think about was what her first words would be on the red planet. And because of Neil’s iconic words, the scrutiny on her was already severe. In her first interview after being selected for the trip, in fact, she was asked what they would be. Annoyed they would care about that and not her rigorous qualifications, she gave a non-answer and said they’d have to wait like everyone else. Still, she knew the whole world was waiting for her words.
Months passed excruciatingly slow, and finally they were scheduled for descent. All of the thousands of tests went as expected, and soon the capsule landed, sending a poof of dust over the windows. Julie’s mind shot back and forth, questioning whether her wording was going to be right for the umpteenth time. Hazily she secured her suit and prepared to step off. She landed with a solid thunk, closed her eyes to compose herself, and started talking. “With this-“
She opened her eyes, and did not see just Mars. Instead, she saw… She didn’t know what. It was a large, pure black sphere the size of her spaceship three times over, and it was rolling right at her fast. Just before crushing her, a gap appeared, and she slid perfectly into it. She was sucked through a tube before finally being spit out in the middle of a very dark room.
She felt a feeling she’d never felt before, and the result was like her brain had downloaded new information. The result was a message: “We have analyzed your civilization from space and deduced your languages from radio messages. Intergalactic regulations mandate we wait for the first of a species to make contact with a planet other than its origin, and then immediately test it for universal intelligence. For humans, you are this subject. If you pass, humans will get an automatic seat on this council which controls the galaxy. If you fail, humans will be terminated and earth recolonized. Prohibiting undeserving species from occupying valuable space is a vital role we play as galactic stewards. Whether you are ready or not, you have initiated this test. It will begin in 10 of your seconds.”
Having been to space twice before, Julie was well trained to keep her composure in unique situations. This did nothing to stop her from panicking now. Eventually, she forced herself to take some deep breaths and think. She noticed her comms were all blocked out in this ship. The tube that brought her in had sealed shut. Her deep breaths were not preventing her from panicking very well. Seeing no way out, she prepared herself as best she could. She was an excellent test taker, having been chosen as commander of the first mission to Mars, and she was confident she was a fine representation of humanity. If this was going to happen, she was going to nail it.
And then it started. Or at least, she was pretty sure it did. She heard what sounded like a loud rushing noise in the background, and felt what could be best described as thousands of thoughts poking at her brain. They were not her thoughts, though, and every time she tried to access one it was already gone. She felt like a dog on the side of a freeway, vaguely aware there was something very important next to her, but lacking the mental capacity to even try to process it. Visual scenes she couldn’t make sense of flashed over her eyes, confusing her more. She tried with all of her effort to focus on just one thought, as a starting point. She just wanted to access the test. She felt as if hours went by, or maybe years, and collapsed to her knees in frustration.
“You have failed.” Another message was downloaded to her brain. “We regret to inform you that humans are not worthy of sharing the galaxy with our council.”
Her mind froze, unable to keep up with everything that had happened. In her desperation, all she could think to do was to stall them to try and give herself time to think up another plan. “Wait!” she yelled at the spherical walls. “Um, humans have a tradition for those sentenced to death to receive a last meal. Will you not allow me this one last decency?” It was the best she could come up with on the spot. Almost immediately the response was downloaded in her brain. “This is acceptable.”
Slowly, she took out the emergency granola bars all astronauts carried with them on missions. Chocolate chip, peanut butter, and oatmeal raisin. Of course oatmeal raisin was one of them, she thought. One final slap in the face before death. She chose chocolate chip. Instinct from her rural upbringing took over unwillingly, and despite them seconds ago sentencing her and everyone she loved to death, she asked the walls, “Would you like one too?” She felt stupid immediately.
But a hole opened in the ground just big enough for the bar next to her, so she took that as a yes. Smiling spitefully, she dropped the oatmeal raisin one down it, unwrapped her own, and began to chew. Moments passed in silence, and tears began to roll down her face. Though she knew no human could have ever passed whatever she just went though, she still felt ashamed. Humanity was doomed, and she was why.
As she cry-ate her last meal, she received yet another download. Just leave me alone, she thought, but couldn’t actually keep the message out of her brain. “The council has all just sampled your offering and unanimously agreed it was the most unique item they’ve ever consumed. We have unanimously decided to temporarily stay humanity’s end on the basis of significant potential offerings to the galaxy. You may be far from intelligent enough to join our council, but we cannot risk losing these delicacies. We will allow you to leave for now while we decide what to do with this situation.”
Julie just sat there for a few minutes until the hole opened and she slid back out onto the surface of Mars. Delicacies?! She had specifically given them the worst bar!
–
Upon further investigation, a team of council researchers would discover that the specific ecological history of Earth created plant and animal life that produced rich and varied flavors far beyond any other planet that had joined the council before. Even the simplest rice or bean humanity had didn’t fail to drive the aliens crazy. But as smart as the council members were compared to humans, none had the ability to work the resources of Earth into delicacies the way humans could after coevolving with them for thousands of years.
Within a few short years, humanity cemented themselves as the chefs of space. The council decided to let humans keep their autonomy provided they sell their food products to the galaxy, and Earth’s economy completely transformed in this new order. Famous chefs went from niche celebrities to leading government figures, countries poured billions into new food research to entice the aliens to their specific style of cooking, and impossibly clever tools bought from the council meant humans could continue to expand their culinary innovations for generations.
Julie was celebrated internationally as the woman who’s kind offering saved humanity, and a new international holiday was celebrated annually to commemorate the day humanity met the outside world. She thought back to the day she first landed, and the first words she never finished saying. “With this step, humanity declares itself a power in the stars.” She chuckled at how naively right she would’ve been had she ever been allowed to finish.