Glut.

A raucous party-mobile whizzed past overhead as Byron walked on the wet alleys, his shoes clicking on the space-age metal cobbles. Click, click, click, as he thought about the end of his destination. As every step brought him closer to the underbelly of the human experience. He brought his cigarette to his mouth, feeling the burn on his lips as his mind traveled back in time.

Food had long been one of the best experiences of the human condition, and Byron was no stranger to that. With one of the most gifted tongues in the world, he was born a prodigy. Someone who gourmet chefs requested an audience with to test their recipes, someone who grew up with the best of the best food every day, slowly learning the intricacies of the interplay between flavor, texture, smell and technique. Of course, that was before.

Before, he thought, pushing his mind back to his days of learning to cook. With the experience of the best foods in the world, Byron was able to mix together combinations and techniques that no one thought would work, except him. With his taste as his guide, he moved forward and created countless dishes, pushed the envelope in the science of cooking and was hailed far and wide as one of the innovators of the culinary space. Before.

One day, as he prepared his lunch, a simple salad of chickpeas garnished with olives and dressing, the television began an emergency broadcast. The ominous universal warning sound played, before fading to the President of the United World standing at his podium, speaking to the entire world in that one moment of desperation.

“Intelligent extraterrestrial life has made contact with us”, he said. “They wish to exchange cultural information with us, and do not seem to bear ill will.”

The next few days were full of changes for the world, with many humans having to come to terms with the fact that they were not at the center of the universe anymore. They were simply another plant, they learned, in an entire galaxy full of frequently occurring intelligent life. They learnt that there was a booming space trade occurring since millennia, throwing open an entire market of various produce, goods and technology for the human race to explore.

Explore they did, satiating their endless appetite for consumerism. Capitalism ruled supreme, as the entire universe was now open for humanity to explore, at the tips of their fingers. The constellations presented a veritable all-you-can-eat to the humans, giving them the key to the door of the heavens far above them.

Ironic that it was looked at as a buffet for the avarice of humans, as they quickly realized something. A realization that would change the state of the human condition forever. To maintain a standing in the galactic market, they would need to offer up some sort of product as well. Coincidentally, the leaders of the human race hit upon this realization at the same time that the extraterrestrials discovered gourmet cuisine.

Byron leaned against the walls of the alley as he recalled those early days. The days where the world was heady with the discovery of new worlds, technologies and cultures. The days where the greed had not quite set in yet, and the days where he played out his life’s calling as a chef revolutionizing the world of cooking. The days where good food was a passion, and not a trade.

With the discovery of fine dining, the aliens gorged themselves on ribeye steak, caviar, matsutake mushrooms. the finest wines and cheeses, truffles and lobsters. The word of the food on Earth spread far and wide, with news soon emerging to the humans that the food in the rest of the galaxy was simply for sustenance.

Aliens began flocking to Earth, with robust infrastructure being built quickly with the help of their technology. All this, while humans had to watch their entire planet being treated like a tourist destination.

In order to fund their greed of information and materialistic goods, world powers quickly began capitalizing on the food industry. Soon, the entire world saw a huge boom in food, with new restaurants, fast food joints and diners opening on almost every corner of every street in the world.

Every capable human was pushed into cooking, forced to spend their life making enough credits to push forward to the next day. Science and research became a luxury, food quickly taking over every facet of humanity’s existence as their greed began consuming themselves like an Ouroboros.

Byron flicked his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with his foot as he stood in front of the grey metal door in front of him. Chiding himself bringing up ancient history from hundreds of years ago, he took a deep breath as he pushed open the door.

His army of chefs looked up at him as he entered, hundreds all giving him their attention as he stood above them. Chuckling at the way things had worked out, he barked out orders for his cooks to continue their job and walked towards a door covered in velvet.

Inside, an atmosphere of absolute comfort and luxury. A room reserved only for the best of their customers, where only the intergalactic elite could taste the fruits of his labor. Today, he was serving the King of the Milky Way, the most important person in the galaxy. Before he garnished his plate of perfect cooking, Byron smiled painfully as he thought how things would be if he hadn’t served his best dish when the aliens first came.

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