Cadenza

by J-F Dubé

Entry # 7798 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

My feeling is: a Master Pilot is one with his Ship.  Often he will detect something’s amiss, even before a telltale from the instrumentation or a signal from crewmember.  I certainly caught a whiff of a something even before the comm system started sputtering foul effluvia throughout the command post: a pungent call combining shock, fear and dismay coming from my exec’s quarters. 

What now?

Entry # 7799 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I have now taken over the chore of supervising navigation for the remainder of the route, as exec Officer/Second Pilot Rollonggong incurred a “slight” mishap:  after drinking himself silly with Ghurrl extract during his off-shift, he proceeded to attempt the recitation, by heart, of the entire maintenance manual of the manifold assembly for reactor 16 while standing on his head appendage. 

Security recordings will attest to the dubious merit of this endeavor and have proven helpful in reconstructing subsequent events. 

For the moment, and pending official inquest, I will only say that Second Pilot Rollonggong while finishing page 127 of chapter 7 of said manual --roughly the half-way mark-- seemed to lose his balance, and most regrettably caught his schlondoff sac in his desk’s drawer, causing instant amputation.

I have roughly computed the chances of such happenstance at 2007786 to one.

Second Pilot Rollonggong will spend the last walking appendage of our trip inside the regeneration chamber where he will have ample time to review his behavior and prepare a suitable explanation for the commanding unit of our Sector.  This should be at least as entertaining as the incident itself.

Entry # 7809 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I have finally put Rollonggong under heavy sedation.  He was constantly calling from his regeneration pod, spreading pheromones indiscriminately through the ship, lamenting relentlessly about his missing parts, saying: “Oh!  My beautiful schlondoff sac!  It’ll never grow back as big as it was!”  I just could not stand it anymore. 

There is still a long way to go and this will deprive me of my sole source of companionship, but even I can take just so much of this insanity.  Silence is bliss after such abuse of my sensibilities.  I don’t want to smell about schlondoff sacs for the rest of my living units!

Entry # 7815 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

This has to be the wharking hole of the galaxy.  I am so bored I’m thinking about waking up Rollonggong.   Humor.  I am not thinking about that at all.  Well maybe a little, but the drawer incident is still grating. 

Coming up on system # 33977864444.  Third planet is inhabited it seems.  Last survey shows EM activity in key wavelength, but it has been a while.  Our course will take us outside the orbit of the fourth planet.  No contact anticipated.

Entry # 7817 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

It seems the locals have made progress since the last visit by Master Pilot Flabushmalugg.  I have detected numerous signals coming from and going to what appear to be automated crafts.  I believe the indigenous species has entered an exploratory phase of its evolution, and consequently I have muted all Ship’s outputs as to not attract undue attention and cause stress to these primitive minds.

I have also allocated generous resources for the recording and analysis of the data that can be acquired via passive methods. 

I intend to spend some of my very limited rest periods in the next days to determine if this sentient species deserves any attention from us.  Of course I have to do everything myself.  Damn Rollonggong and his record-breaking pretensions.

Entry # 7819 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

The Ship has detected a repeating signal while I was taking my mandatory rest period, and has decided it was a distress call.  Consequently and as per the chapter 44 guidelines of the ISAPG Code, the Ship deviated course and slowed down to investigate.  Well, what can I do now?  Kick it? 

Of course I am somewhat to blame since I ordered the analysis of the intra-system communications.  However the Ship has now partial translation capability, so information exchange is at least a possibility.  The suspense is definitely not killing me...

 Entry # 7820 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Sensing devices have locked on and analyzed the source of the distress signal.  It appears to be a ridiculously small craft adrift in the vicinity of the fourth planet of the system.  The Ship is not close enough yet to confirm life signs but mass and size indicate that any sentient being that could be onboard is either incredibly brave, a fool, or perhaps has been forced aboard. 

Of course, this is obviously a primitive species, so frame of reference has to be somewhat skewed.  Since events are following a course dictated by physical laws, time will tell...

 Entry # 7822 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Have made dubious contact with the lone being aboard the damaged craft, using a standard written language that seems largely in use in this system.  The creature keeps asking: “Is this a joke?”  “Is this Bobby?”

How can I know if I am a joke or a Bobby?  I don’t even know what a Bobby is.  Really, a Master Pilot should not have to deal with this schklodd. 

Analysis shows that the ship has sustained some internal breakdown and is slowly leaking atmosphere.  I will attempt to link without inflicting further damage to the flimsy vessel. 

I have hastily crafted a message detailing my intensions, hoping that the creature inside has the wherewithal to overcome possible meaning and syntax errors on my part. 

Entry # 7823 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I have decided to walk the rather lengthy way to the connecting node, thinking good thoughts about sedentary life-partner #2 and knowing she wouldn’t mind if I was packed a bit less tightly around the bflutoff when I reach destination.  This should happen in about NEVER if things continue to interfere. 

And to think I took this job so I could have some peace to record my life-story.  Talk about one more illusion down the foshblatt.

Entry # 7824 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Just met the being from the damaged vessel.  It is a not too smelly alien more or less matching all mammals of group #6 of the interstellar bioguide:  two inferior appendages to move around, two upper appendages to manipulate objects and devices, and one head on top. 

The head sports two ocular organs, one double aperture for respiratory purposes and one small mouth.  I have a feeling that his olfactory sense is nowhere near as developed as ours, but taking no chances I generated some quite neutral fragrances and appeasing pheromones bursts.

The being seemed exceedingly cautious, possibly very nervous in finding itself confronted to such an impressive individual as a Master Pilot. 

It waved an appendage and showed me his small white teeth.  I reciprocated, showing first my own main set of teeth, and then unfurling the sub-maw with the most impressive double row of metallic shearing fangs.

The small being reacted curiously: reversing its ocular organs so all I could see was the white part, and then fell asleep rather swiftly.  Perhaps it was its way to show me it now felt very secure.  I will attend for a while.

Entry # 7826 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I have reestablished communication with the primitive being after some time.  I think I managed to convey the fact that in no way will I be able to help repair the damaged ship, as our technologies are much too different.  The very best I can do is to give it an emergency pod and launch it near its planet.  Since this would lead to a marginal, but still noteworthy increase in the projected cost of this trip, I have inquired as to possible trade compensation.  I am not optimistic. 

Entry # 7829 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Commander Robert P Wayland --this is apparently the name of the alien being I have rescued from certain death-- is communicating mainly through modulated waves propagating through the atmospheric milieu, I have discovered.  Well, to each his own.  I have scanned this ‘man’ as he calls himself, and I am in the process of morphing an appropriate set of organs that will allow better communication flow between us.

 Entry # 7831 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

My new ears and vocal cords--that is what they are called on the third planet of system  # 33977864444-- are working fine and I can now communicate with the alien or Earthman as they say.  I had to allocate one or two time units of my rest shift to reconfigure data intake in one of my brains, but now we have flowing conversation, although of severely limited interest.  The Earthman has very little in his possession to offer as an exchange for saving his life.  He has resorted to perusing his undamaged databases in the hope of finding something that might interest me.  Here is an appropriate Earth expression to illustrate the probability of that occurrence:  long shot.

Entry # 7832 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I was awakened from first rest by the Earthman.  He’s had an idea and seems hopeful.  I will verify at the first opportunity.

Entry # 7835 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

MUSIC!!!

Haarrglblavvtoogvtgg...  Be back soon...

Entry # 7836 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I can now state that that God entity exists and I know its name:  Johann Sebastian Bach!  Small exaggeration, ha ha, but nonetheless I believe I have found crystallized carbon among muck. 

I have placed in primary information storage a link with this entry containing basic concept and principles of music, along with acoustics and sound waves generation.

As in Kokkyzian light panorama for example, music evolves from a very basic set-up that offers nearly-infinite possibilities.  The emotional impact of the first piece Commander Robert P Wayland played for me through a music reproduction device --Partita No.2 in D minor, BWV 1004-- was such that I find no words to convey the feeling.

I will only say that I completely lost my floff and that substantial amount of my ammaghlott had to be vacuumed off the floor by the cleaning robots.  I had to explain to the Earthman that this was a good reaction.  I think I frightened him quite badly for a few time units.

Commander Robert P Wayland explained there are many styles of music and proposed careful exploration.  This seems a wise course of action considering the effect of the Partita. 

Entry # 7839 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Baroque, Jazz, blues...  I must be swimming in flammaglop.  Music has taken over my emotions.  I love it all and I want to hear it all.  The Earthman advises caution still, saying that there are stronger flavors to discover yet.  My blottoblusch is getting all moist just thinking about it.

Entry # 7842 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Cellllliiiiiiiine Diooonnnnnnnn!!!

My voorplast is crinkled all over.  I don’t know why or where her heart will go on, and I don’t much care, but I can’t get this melody out of my brains.

I find myself constantly humming, even while working. 

I have roamed some parts of the Ship in search of a good spot where I could try to recreate this performance.  Curiously, the best place seems to be inside the ablution room.  So far, my efforts have not been entirely successful.  Practice will make perfect, I think...

Entry # 7844 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

The detour to the third planet has been approved by the Association, as per my recommendation.  I have some fear that my judgment has been impaired by music, but what can a vablusch do?  Besides, the finder’s fee alone could pay for another Ship if this all works out.

I have learned that the memory banks of the Earthmans’ ship contains about 8000 discrete pieces of music, which is only a fraction of what is available on the third planet.  Commerce seems to be a possibility.  I would not even have to share royalties with Rollonggong who has been incommunicado for the entire episode.  Bless his amputated schlondoff sac!

Entry # 7848 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

I have sent a small probe to the third planet.  It appears commerce won’t even be necessary as huge quantity of music is available through a protocol known as Internet pirating.  Current inventory is presently 81403 discrete musical compositions and climbing.  The Internet –a largely unprotected exchange medium- provides vast quantities of data that can be decrypted and accessed as sound and visual information in the wavelengths that can be detected by the Earthlings.  Strangely, the bulk of this data depicts humans engaging in sexual congress; quite a boring spectacle if you ask me, as said specie possess a very low number of orifices and/or appendices which severely limits possible permutations...   

I asked Commander Robert P Wayland about this fact and he responded that meeting me has somewhat exposed his specie’s shortcomings as far as body fluids exchange possibilities are concerned. 

I told him that he doesn’t have to feel inferior for that one specific reason, as there are many others for which he definitely should.

Entry # 7851 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Commander Robert P Wayland enquired, with some apprehensions it seems, about possible hostile intensions from my or other known species.  He wonders if interstellar war is something he should worry about. 

I assured him that he should not, but he seemed in need of more reassurance, so I tried to convey that it made very little sense to waste time making war on his home world as anybody could simply detonate their star and let their ashes freeze in the cold of interstellar space.  This argument should greatly diminish his naive worries about interstellar war.   

Entry # 7855 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Commander Robert P Wayland’s concern about war has focused my attention on the competitive component of his specie.  It spills out into every part of their existence, even music:  in a recent update of the Rolling Stone Magazine, a graded compilation of the best rock guitarists --see link # 4449-9989788800-- has been made.  Just to occupy a few idle time units, I have drawn an analysis grid and cross-referenced the list with all the data I have accumulated up to now.

Eddy Van Halen at number 47?  Are these Earthlings completely off their glootork?

I just have to resign myself to the fact that no matter where or how far I go in this vast universe, the stupid fairy has been there and done its worst.

Sorry about that nonsensical statement: I’m getting a bit contaminated by Earth’s culture. 

Entry # 7859 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Third planet very near.  I have warned Commander Robert P Wayland to ready himself for boarding the emergency pod.  It is a bittersweet parting, as I feel I would have enjoyed keeping him as an entertaining pet.  Commander Robert P Wayland is indeed very clean compared to many primitive beings I have encountered.   

The Ship has been detected by my passenger’s home world.  However, with all outputs muted or disguised, we should appear quite insignificant.  I will prepare a message so they may properly greet their valorous explorer.

Entry # 7867 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Commander Robert P Wayland is now aboard the emergency pod.  This sleek missile will get him safely to the ground in a short while.  He has thanked me profusely for saving his life and says he will speak with positive emphasis about his encounter with mighty Master Pilot Volongabloff.  I will miss this little Earthman.  He may be an uncivilized primitive, but he is also one sentient being who would never get his schlondoff sac caught in a desk drawer!

Entry # 7868 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Sending this message on appropriate channels:  “Greetings Earthlings!  This is Master Pilot Volongabloff speaking.  Please welcome back your explorer whom I have rescued from certain death.  Hail to the King of rock and roll, the King of pop, B.B. King, Carole King, Nat King Cole and all other Kings that rule your beautiful blue planet.  Please continue to generate your harmonious sounds; we will meet again and possibly make some kind of commercial exchange.”

Entry # 7869 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

Commander Robert P Wayland’s pod is under way.  Earthlings are launching multiple vehicles, possibly to greet and escort the emergency pod...  What... Explosions!  Heyy!  This is Master Pilot Volongabloff!  Stop this immediately!  I want to speak to the King Elvis himself right now!  What are you doing?

Entry # 7870 \\ Master Pilot Volongabloff

The Earthlings have destroyed Commander Robert P Wayland’s pod and fired on my Ship, causing of course no damage whatsoever.  What a crappy ending to a pleasant interlude... 

I will flag this system so that these primitives will be left alone to cool off for a good while.  What a shame…

I will ponder the memory of Commander Robert P Wayland and leave this system with a sense of missed opportunity: surely this would have been my one chance to experience the smell of teen spirit, whatever it might be.  

Oh well...  never mind.  Resuming original course.

Rock on...

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