The Baker that Saved Humanity

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I didn’t care to try and listen for screams when I blasted the human’s homeworld into oblivion. You may think me cruel for seeking to destroy an entire species and their world. I had a very good reason for it though.

Humanity was ugly.

And under my rule, ugly things were destroyed.

And so the great cleansing began. We tracked down all human crafts lurking throughout the galaxy and began exterminating their kind. No disgusting humans were to be left breathing while I was emperor, thank you very much. It was very satisfying to know that I was performing a great service to the universe. If only my tyrant father could see me now, he would be so proud… But of course he couldn’t because I had killed him.

However, matters with the humans had become complicated when pie had been discovered. Pie had been presented to me as a tribute from a plundered human colony my forces had exterminated. As soon as that flaky confection–with its sweet goo and bits of fruit hit my tastebuds–I froze. Literal parts of my skin froze into cold sheets of ice in shock. This human food was… Delicious. I vainly searched for a surviving human to explain what I had eaten, and found only one, wheezing in death throes, able give a name to the confection before slumping over in death.

Pie.

On my planet, and all the 685 planets I had conquered/destroyed, I had never tasted anything of the sort. Crafting nutritional components for the simple pleasure of… tasting divine? The idea of food for pleasure had never occurred to me, nor to any of the previously mentioned conquered/destroyed species. My own people, superior in every way, had never thought of it either.

I had my best scientists attempt to replicate human’s creation of “pie”. Try as they might, they couldn’t.

I needed to find the secret to crafting this beautiful and terrifying food that had such a hold over me, and so I had hastily sent out the order to spare the nasty humans. Spare them, take them prisoner, and search among them for someone who knew the craft of pie making. Then, and only then, once the art of pie making was discovered and could be replicated, would we rid this galaxy of the terrible humans.

I slithered back and forth across my throne room, an impatient habit. I had long awaited the day and finally it had arrived. After raiding a cargo ship, my forces had uncovered a swarm of humans hiding in its belly. After rounding them up and relocating them onto one of my fleet ships, it had been discovered that one human knew how to make pie. It wouldn’t be long now.

The large golden doors swiveled open, admitting two of my guards and two very small humans. I stopped slithering and watched them approach. Why were there two humans? Perhaps there were two needed to make the pie. The visor on my optic flickered, and indicated that one, the taller human with hair sprouting all over its face was male. The other, a small thing nervously glancing all about as it approached, was a female.

Lieutenant Tonbul leaned over and muttered, “The female is the one you are seeking. The male wouldn’t shut up unless we took him with her.”

Ah. The stubbornness of humans. I tut-tutted good-humoredly. Perhaps he would make for an amusing clown to feature in the stillpits. I always liked to give a good show to my people.

They halted in front of me; the female’s gaze flickering up, then away. The male’s gaze didn’t waver from my optic. I drew forward, extending my face close so the female’s face was mere tortors away from mine. She jerked back, and my sensor indicated her face was awash with panic and fear. Good. She would be easy to get the pie secrets from.

“Hey! Keep your distance, alien scum!” The male yelled. The fool moved forward, as if to strike. Without glancing in his direction, I flicked a tentacle at him and he went careening across the room. His body hit one of the pillars and slid down to the floor. He didn’t make any noise after that. Or move for that matter. Ah, I hoped I hadn’t killed him. I so enjoyed a clown show in the stillpits.

The female had covered her mouth and was staring at the fallen male. I realized that hadn’t been the most diplomatic move, and attempted recovery. “He’ll be fine.” I said, hoping the confidence in my voice was conveyed through my universal translator.

“So,” I said craning my head so I was in the female’s line of vision again. “You are the baker, are you not?” I attempted a smile, a customary practice humans did to show friendliness. The female grimaced, and my visor indicated she was displaying disgust. I quickly closed my mouth, long fangs disappearing. That was fine. It was a strange practice anyways.

“Honored guest,” I said to her. “Tell me, are you very familiar with your baking craft?”

Now there was confusion. She hesitantly bobbed her head, which translated to affirmation. I continued. “That is most excellent. So you can replicate this?” I swept a tentacle to the hologram in front of my throne, which flickered, then displayed the picture of the pie found in the human colony.

The female gasped. I looked closer at the image and realized there were crumpled forms of her fellow humans lying in the corners. I quickly chopped at the hologram, and it zoomed in so the pie was all that could be seen. “Can you make this?”

Collecting herself, and appearing slightly nauseated, she peered closely at the image then nodded again. “It looks like an apple pie,” she said faintly. “I can make it.”

I was so thrilled upon hearing this, a zip of electricity crackled at the base of my spine and shot out the top of my head. I gave a delighted cackle. "Yes! All the pie will be mine!"

The female flinched at my display of joy then continued speaking. “But I would need the ingredients to make it, and those are hard to come by nowadays, with our planet destroyed and all.”

If that was a dig at my destruction of her planet, I really couldn’t care less. I clapped my tentacles. A legion of my best scientists and nutrition-makers slithered up. “I offer all of my resources to be at your disposal, so you will be able to locate and create all the necessary ingredients. We are an advanced race, and should be able to replicate anything you need.”

There was a strange sort of dance happening on the human’s face. It flickered between confusion, disbelief, hope, doubt, and anger. I tapped my visor, making sure it wasn’t malfunctioning. How could one creature contain so many expressions at once? It was disgusting.

“If I do this…” she said, “will you leave me and all the other humans alone?”

I considered this proposal, drumming my tentacles on the floor. “I do not see the need for more humans, if you alone can provide us with the pie making.”

“But,” she said. I was surprised. I didn’t take her for a negotiator, and was delighted to see where this would lead. “But if you kill all the humans, there will be no one I can teach to pass on pie making.”

“That is fine,” I reassured her. ”You will pass down that information to us.”

She scowled. Apparently this did not suit her at all. “But,” she said. “Your species is a species of destruction and replication. You do not create.”

That was true. She had us there. We were notoriously known for our unoriginality in destroying planets and copying everyone else. But I didn’t see what this had to do with anything.

“So?” was my intelligent response.

“Well,” she struggled. “If you destroy us, you will never experience new desserts. You will only have the ones I know. And I don’t even know all of it.”

I was in shock. “What is this ‘desserts’ you speak of?”

It was her turn to look shocked. “Don’t you know? Pies are just one type of dessert. There are many many more.”

“Many many more?” I echoed faintly.

“Yes. There are cakes, pastries, candies, eclairs, doughnuts,” she said listing them off one by one. “I haven’t even mentioned what we can do with liquids.”

I sensed no falsity from her. She was telling the truth, and I was in anguish. “So, I said, tortured. “You’re telling me that there are more delicacies other than pies?”

“Yes,” was her simple answer.

I was torn. On one tentacle, I had sworn complete destruction of the human species simply for their repulsive existence. On the other tentacle, their pies, or, desserts, were delicious, and there was nothing like them in all the galaxy.

“’Tonbul,” I said to my lieutenant. “Tell me, do you think we might be able to make an exception to humans in this instance?”

He didn’t look very impressed with her argument. “Sir, you swore complete annihilation on humanity for their ugliness. If you go back on your word, do you think that’s fair to the other species you annihilated for their ugliness too?”

“Hmm, yes you have a good point. Fairness is important.”

“Is that why?” The baker piped in. I realized I hadn’t shut off my translator. “That’s why you blew up our planet?”

“Yes,” I said, shrugging. “Your species is quite hard to look at.”

The female’s face colored red. My visor indicated that it could mean feelings of anger or embarrassment. I interpreted it as embarrassment and sought to ease her guilty conscious. “It’s okay,” I said soothingly. “Not all of us can be beautiful.”

“You… I… I can’t…” I could see she was trying to compose herself. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. “How about a compromise? A trade of one thing for another.”

“A trade? I’m listening?”

“Spare humanity. Let us live in peace, and we will have our best bakers always create new desserts for you and your people. And we will never run out of creations because we are a species of creation.”

I was fascinated and deeply tempted by the proposal. “I don’t know…” I shifted my tentacles. “Allow such an ugly species to live just for desserts…”

The female took one of her hideous hands and began groping around in the material on her side. I craned my head. What was she looking for?

“I made this for my sister. It was her birthday, but I think she won’t mind,” she said, pulling her hand back out. In it, was something small and pink. I drew closer.

“What is this?”

“A cookie, my lord. Another type of dessert.” With her hand still extended, she bent to the ground, head bowed. My visor showed me that this was a deeply respectful stance. I took the cookie. It was small, and delicate, and when I gave it a little pinch, it began to crumble. I quickly popped the thing into my mouth.

Tonbul cried out. “Sir! It might be poisoned.”

I ignored him and chewed. My optic widened. The crumbling confection exploded with beauty in my mouth. I moaned, munching joyously, then licked my tentacles. I grabbed the female’s wrist and yanked her forward, inspecting her hand. I licked the palm to clear it of crumbs. A shudder passed through her, but she didn’t say anything. I released her, eons of disappointment piercing through me that there was none of the cookie left.

But there could be more.

She had presented me with her proposal.

Perhaps…

Perhaps an exception could be made.

“Do we have a deal?” the female asked.

I looked at her. She appeared far more confident than she had our entire meeting. I licked my tentacles again, debating over the fate of humanity. Then opened my mouth into a wide smile. She flinched.

“You have a deal.”