Work Text:
To: Jung Su-Hyeon Ancelet Kosala, Censor’s Office, Romanova
From: Ninth Anonymous
Found this in Mycroft’s notes. I gather even they thought it was too much of a tangent to include in their account. Besides, at least half the Hives will probably want it censored for treading too closely on their secrets anyway.
I can’t quite bring myself to discard it, though. Maybe we should add it as an appendix?
—
You may think, dear Reader, in an age of anti-sleeps and kitchen trees, coffee shops would have gone the way of silent, scentless films: an antiquated curiosity revived only on occasion at some mad auteur’s whim, and just as quickly forgotten with the advent of newer, more fashionable fads. Not so! Each Hive maintains its own customs, and each has some vital lesson to convey regarding that Hive’s history and character.
Europe
I must begin this account by straying from alphabetical order*, for it is Europe we owe thanks to for the very notion of coffee shops. In fact, most European coffee shops reflect the nation-strats in which they can be found, from Italian espresso, to the French press, to the briki-boiled varieties beloved by myself and Papa. But just as ideas and revolutionary sentiments flowed as freely in the salons of old as the beverages, so too are many of the coffee shops of this century where Perry-Kraye and his allies recruited the disaffected.
*(You will forgive me, I hope, Reader, for excluding the Hiveless from this taxonomy. Graylaws of course go where they please, and Whitelaws typically eschew even the mildest of mind-altering substances or stimulants. As for our brave Blacklaws, while Chagatai serves as evidence there are many culinary virtuosos among those who don the sash, I believe I would offend by attempting to draw any inferences to what binds them beyond the Seven Laws.)
Cousins
Cousins’ coffee shops are never merely coffee shops. They are not even “shops,” in the sense that the typical purpose of a shop is to generate revenue by selling products. The most humble of Servicers in need of a hot, restorative cup will find one for the asking, subsidized either through the generosity of other patrons or the shopkeeper themselves, alongside basic first aid and donated secondhand items.
I sense your question already forming, Reader: what, then, distinguishes a Cousin coffee shop from any other Cousin-run institution? Recall that Europe holds no monopoly on long-simmering vendettas. Ask for extra marshmallows in your hot cocoa on the proper day of the week at the right time of month, and should your credentials demonstrate you to be a friend of the cause, Cookie will be in touch.
Gordian
All Gordians may be Brillists, but perhaps Gordian’s greatest secret is that not all Brillists are academics. And among their artisans, none but knitters are more highly valued than baristas. Their training is arduous, taking years to complete. Yet the results are undeniable: with but one glance at a sweater, a skilled Gordian technician can divine the exact brewing strength and proportion of cream to sugar that will satisfy. Even when confronted with the rare non-Brillist privileged enough to taste such elixir, a mere two or three questions are enough to yield an experience that may drive the drinker to madness in attempting to replicate it for themselves.
I am sure it will come as no surprise to you, Reader, that of the few masters who have abandoned their Hive, the vast majority can be found plying their craft in Madame’s establishment. After all, let us not forget: whatever she has or may yet become, Joyce Faust D’Arouet was raised Gordian.
Humanist
Like Gordian, Humanist coffee is a celebration of individualism. But where Gordian seeks to woo with the consumer’s Platonic ideal of coffee, a Humanist brewer’s creations are as much a reflection of the one producing the blend as that individual’s boots. “Here,” it proclaims, without hesitation or apology, “is the perfect cup. Taste, and understanding shall follow.”
I have sampled enough Saneer-Weeksbooth concoctions (yes, even Thisbe’s) to question this philosophy. But I cannot deny, even the most curiously flavored mouthful provides an otherwise unattainable level of insight.
Mason
If you seek a sign of Masonist ubiquity, Reader, look no further than the purple, white, and gold “Emperor’s Choice” sign fronts that seem to mark every corner of every major city save impartial Romanova - and it is only by the Emperor’s insistence that no petition has been put before the Senate to allow an outpost. For while you will find few who consider it their favorite source of coffee, or who will even profess to like any of its concoctions that are not drowned in sugar, it would take quite the search to unearth an anti-Masonite so redoubtable as to have never placed an order for a venti nonfat latte.
Mitsubishi
I fear I do Mitsubishi a grave disservice in not breaking alphabetical order as I did for Europe, for their preferences are rooted in traditions even more ancient. Yet in another sense, they do not even belong on this list. Mitsubishi is a Hive of tea-drinkers. Black, green, oolong, chai, boba: each has its partisans, most of whom can be found exactly where one might expect.
Do not think, though, that Mitsubishi has no love for coffee. Quite the contrary. Masonic beans - and indeed, those of most other Hives - are grown on Mitsubishi land, just as buildings that boast Emperor’s Choice locations often have Mitsubishi landlords. Needless to say, the Censor’s Office keeps as (if not more) careful track of these statistics as any other warning sign of majority.
Utopian
While Mitsubishi’s placement may easily be debated, it is entirely fitting that we end here. In many ways, the Utopians hew most closely to one’s initial impressions of the role of coffee shops in a post-scarcity society. Naturally caffeine itself is prized; how else to make a dent in one’s Infinite To-Do List? And Griffincloth, of course, is made liberal use of in many other Hives’ shops. But it will be many centuries, if ever, before any coffee but freeze-dried is a luxury that one will be able to find on Mars, let alone a space devoted exclusively to its indulgence.
Still, as mysterious as the Utopians’ governing system of constellations is to outsiders, I am told there is one means of divining some measure of an individual’s allegiance, though I confess its significance eludes me: do they prefer tea, earl grey, hot, or coffee, black?
…
Oh Reader, tell me these nuances are not unknown to you; that some vestige of the culture we have built separately and together survives the war to come! For while I know Anax Jehovah will bring a better world, I, poor mortal wretch that I am, can but weep for what may be lost.
—
To: Ninth Anonymous
From: Jung Su-Hyeon Ancelet Kosala
I think we can leave it out. There are more important things to focus on.
—
To: Su-Hyeon
From: 9A
All right. I trust your judgment.