The Chronicles of Captain Blud

28 June 1999

THE CHRONICLES OF CAPTAIN BLUD

Dramatis Personae:

Crew of the ship "Happy Landing":

Captain Blud
Praporshchik Gradus or Celsius
Captain Blud's wife, Messalina
Major Ogorodnikhy, Blud's immediate superior
Chief Mate for Robotics and Computers, Cluster
Cook Shkvarka
Co-pilot Ni-Zya
Senior Lieutenant Povorotov
Trainee Nibe-Nime
Junior Physician with a diploma, Menzurka
Senior Physician without a diploma, Probirka

Crew of the ship "Magarych":

Commander, retired captain, now a vile pirate — Spiridon
Navigator Bukvar
Pilot, also (the same as) head of the boarding party — Iron Stocking

Boarding party:

Accidentally surviving 29th Panfilovite
The New Messalina (Captain Blud's wife)

PART ONE

1. How Captain Blud Set Off on a Journey

Blud sat up in bed and cast an agonized glance at the socks hanging off the portrait of his beloved grandmother, but then waved it off — first, there was no way to peel them off the portrait anyway, and second, it kept the flies away. Then he turned his head to the left and saw cockroaches briskly marching across the door... with reflexes worthy of a man who spent 6 years in hand-to-hand combat, he hurled the pillow... the roaches were swept away along with his father, who was opening the door. Morning had broken. With a powerful thrust of his arm, Blud cast off the blanket, which somehow retained its original shape from a few moments ago and hit the floor with a dull thud.

Sitting on the bed, Blud spotted his slippers, but before sliding his feet inside, he paused to think — did the neighbor set a mousetrap in there, or not? After a brief chain of logic, he leaned toward the former. With the caution typical of a seasoned sapper, he poked a pencil into the first slipper — NOTHING!!! — Blud said "HM!" and jammed the pencil into the second. A snap of splintering wood echoed, and only half a pencil remained in his hand. Grinning with satisfaction, he fished the mousetrap out of the slipper and carefully stashed it under the mattress — it might still come in handy.

Having dressed somehow, Blud went to the kitchen. Sitting down on a stool, which wasted no time and collapsed on the spot, he banged his teeth painfully against the table. Yes, the morning wasn't off to the best start. The captain smiled...

It was in this state — an idiotically grinning subject sitting on the floor and using stool legs instead of a fork (in the Chinese manner) — that Lance Corporal Pustogolovy found him. In all fairness, the Lance Corporal didn't look his best either; his entrance went like this: "Honour to report, sir... Lance Corporal Pustogolovy... Request permission to crawl in...", after which a head peeked out from behind the door, followed by the rest of the Lance Corporal tumbling inside, pulling an envelope from inside his coat mid-fall and tucking it under his head. After that, he settled comfortably on the floor and snored peacefully. When Blud tried to take the packet from him, the Lance Corporal tried to bite him. Following several fruitless attempts to wrest the envelope from Pustogolovy, the Lance Corporal suddenly stood up, stared with wild eyes, saluted the captain, and handed over the packet. Then he lay back down and drifted off with a carefree and blissful expression on his face.

When Blud returned to the kitchen, his wife Messalina was already bustling about.

"How many jam pancakes are you having?" she asked.

"Five," Blud replied, sitting down at the table.

After the first pancake, he felt he would die if he didn't eat the second. After the second, that life was magnificent!!! After the third, that he hadn't eaten anything other than jam pancakes in ages. After the fourth, that the pancakes wanted to step outside for a heart-to-heart chat with him. And after the fifth, he rushed out of the kitchen with a wail, bowling over his pensioner father in the hallway, who had merely wanted to tell his boy "Good morning!".

Dashing into his room, Blud saw Pustogolovy muttering with wild fire in his eyes: "The pipes are burning!.. The pipes are burning!.." — the Lance Corporal had evidently fallen into a trance. From which Blud successfully revived him using his grandmother's portrait. The smell of the socks took effect instantly — the Lance Corporal gave Blud a bewildered look, after which he peacefully fainted. Blud hung the portrait back in place and pulled out the envelope. On the envelope, in handwriting oscillating like a sine wave, was inscribed: "To Captain Blud! PERSONALLY! Into his hands, feet, tentacles, suckers, teeth, crack (cross out what does not apply)."

Tearing open the envelope, he found a note of the following content:

"Captain Blud!
You have been entrusted with a most critical government assignment! You and your Crew, consisting of 6 men (dossiers attached), are to depart on a free-roam mission to the far sector of the galaxy, Z-24-A-AxX. Launch today from the central spaceport aboard the cruiser 'Happy Landing' at 15:00 Galactic Time.

Signed: Ogorodnikhy."

The captain rubbed his hands gleefully — the adventure had begun...

2. Captain Blud's Dossiers

Now, while the captain attempts to revive the Lance Corporal from his state of unconsciousness, we shall acquaint the reader with his crew — namely, through what is known of them from their files.

First off, Captain Blud himself:

                  CAPTAIN BLUD

              TOP SECRET

Has never been abroad, never will be, and couldn't possibly be.
Practices KARATE — in Russian terms, hand-to-hand combat.
Graduated from VZPI (Gang of Tedious Deranged Deviants), where he applied all his knowledge and skills to their fullest extent.
Loses self-control and becomes dangerous to those around him at the sound of DEPECHE MODE.
Member of the Longbeards party since birth.
Officially unmarried, although in his freshman year a barter deal was made with Valeria Messalina, accompanied by an official notarization of HUSBAND and WIFE status by a group of fellow students.
Complexion: pale green. Due to perpetual stubble.
Lives next door to a neighbor who constantly pulls malicious pranks on him, and repays the neighbor in kind.
Has been repeatedly caught in compromising connections.
Has a police record; the precinct station had to be rebuilt from scratch afterward. Brought up on charges of:
  - petty and grand mischief;
  - sodomy involving small domestic animals;
  - Served 10 (ten) years in a maximum-security penal colony disguised as a high school.

           Senior Lieutenant POVOROTOV

              TOP SECRET

Born at an altitude of 4,000 meters one minute after an airplane crash and 17 seconds after his parents' parachutes failed to open.
An orphan since touchdown.
Enrolled in the LAUNCHPAD MCQUACK Private Flying School. Graduated with a gold medal.
After school, joined the "HAIRPIN TURNS" squadron. Attained the rank of Senior Lieutenant within 3 months.
Has 37 and 1/2 McQUACK-STYLE landings to his credit.
Drinks and smokes in moderation, whenever he loses at cards in moderation. Falls into deep melancholy after a successful landing.
Nicknamed "DEATH ON TAKEOFF".
Decorations:
  - Medals for a Beautiful Landing, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Class.
  - Medal for executing an inside loop in a decommissioned helicopter.
  - Medal for jumping without a parachute.

              Co-pilot NI-ZYA

              TOP SECRET

Born in the city of Novye Vasyuki (New Wasyki). Soon kidnapped by an international terror gang and sold to a Japanese kamikaze, where he was trained in the NINJA arts. (Note: The gang later dissolved; the Ring-leader was found hanged with cloth diapers, the rank-and-file members killed by a squirt gun.)
No data on his youth.
Trained in snitching from childhood. Radios and direction-finders of every system suffered from his inquisitive mind.
Studied the piloting profession from advertising brochures.

              Trainee NIBE-NIME

              TOP SECRET

Born to the sound of the USSR Anthem, resulting in severe (psychological) trauma...
Enrolled in the School of Young Engineers, where he drove the faculty to the asylum. Graduated from the School of Young Engineers with a birch-wood medal, entered the Institute of PHILOSOPHY, whereupon half the teaching staff retired and the other half hanged themselves. After failing his exams 5 times in a row, he was transferred to the Higher Space Academy.
INTELLIGENCE:
Morally unstable, easily traumatized psyche; at the sight of a guitar, frying pan, bottle, or any other sound-producing object, loses self-control and becomes dangerous to those around him.
Has no decorations.
Currently reported to be deployed for on-the-job training.

     Chief Mate, Robotics Specialist CLUSTER

              TOP SECRET

Born in a Computer Center; not an orphan, has everyone, including parents. Father is a senior programmer, mother is the same, only of the feminine persuasion. No data on childhood.
Enrolled in the HKSC (Higher Key-Crackers' School for Computers).
A natural-born GAMER.
Loses self-control and becomes dangerous to those around him at the sight of computers. Falls into deep melancholy during prolonged computer deprivation.
Slow to arouse.
Morally upright.
Non-partisan.
Graduated from HKSC with a large cardboard medal; upon graduation was awarded a gold hard drive loaded with 120 MB of games.
Caught wind of a rumor that a new company released a brand-new game, cleverly bypassed twelve levels of security, and inadvertently trashed the Intergalactic Data Bank (IDB) along the way, after which he went into hiding for a long time.
Decorations:
  - Unidentified Gaming Object.
  - Medal for "gentle" computer handling.

Those were the details on the crew of the ship "Lucky Landing", but meanwhile, let us return to Captain Blud, who was fruitlessly trying to bring the corporal out of a trance.

...Swiveling her hips effectively, a girl walked into the room, flashed her eyes, and asked: "Well, where's Captain Blud around here?" The captain turned his head in astonishment and... gallantly saluting, collapsed right beside the corporal. When the captain came to and, seeing the girl before him, asked himself: "Is this a dream, or what?", to which he received an incoherent reply from the corporal that he had nothing to do with it, and generally felt awful.

Just then, a large mouse strutted pompously into the room. The corporal took one look at it and, saying: "In the Ghreek hall, in the Ghreek hall... a white mouse!!!", flopped onto his side, while the captain uttered his catchphrase that could have wiped out mammoths: "I'll scramble its whole mug right now!" The girl reacted even more violently and, executing a graceful leap, landed on top of the wardrobe.

The white mouse, having run to the middle of the room, suddenly came to a halt, and gears came tumbling out of it.

With a yell of: "It busted again!!!", First Mate Cluster barged into the room holding a radio receiver. An unearthly shriek came from the wardrobe. Waving the transmitter around, the first mate accidentally poked the girl with the antenna in a body part we shall not mention (all in good time...).

By this time, Captain Blud had recovered from shock, and the entire gathering that had managed to assemble at his place set about, with joint efforts, reviving the warrant officer, who during all these events had wedged himself behind the radiator and started snoring there. Only after three buckets of water was the prapor able to sit upright in an armchair.

The doorbell rang.

— Everyone stay in your seats, I'll get it, — said Captain Blud.

Fearing sabotage, the captain peered cautiously through the peephole, but there was only pitch-black darkness. Opening the door to devil-knows-who was out of the question... Pondering a bit more, Blud remembered that his neighbor had smeared the peephole over with paint several years ago, but more importantly, he remembered that somewhere around here there ought to be an intercom. Spending a few minutes searching for it, Blud found it camouflaged (just in case) as a "Gentleman's Kit" and nailed right there, beside the door. Activating the intercom with a swift kick, the captain asked:

— Who's there?

However, the only response was the malicious scuttling of cockroaches over the microphone. Doesn't work!, — the captain deduced, having bruised both feet. The captain knew of no other ways to find out who was behind the door, except one...

He opened the door.

Standing before him was the ship's cook, Shkvarka. She was engrossed in reading a book titled Delicious and Healthy Food from Non-Edible Products. Paying no attention to the captain, Shkvarka slipped past into the kitchen. The clattering of pots and pans reached Blud's ears.

— AHEM! — said the captain and shut the door. But before he could take even two steps toward his room, the bell rang again. Cursing colorfully, the captain opened the door and froze. Before him was something with a human face. Looking closer, the captain realized it was trainee Nibe-Nime, draped with synthesizers, guitars, drums, drumsticks, tom-toms, amps, and speakers.

Struggling to salute, the trainee clattered past the captain into the room. Captain Blud loudly snapped his dropped jaw and the open door shut, and walked into the room.

In the room, the whole crowd was listening open-mouthed to the first mate, who was telling tales about the Amudyankas, a cosmic variety of Amazons. Accustomed to the first mate's raving, the captain went over to the wardrobe and helped Probirka climb down, incidentally feeling up all her charms. When everyone had settled down, the captain stepped into the center of the room and began a lengthy speech he had prepared just in case over the course of the year:

— Friends! We are gathered here to discuss the execution of a government assignment. And since government assignments are not open to discussion, we shall not discuss it, but proceed directly to what kind of assignment it is. What kind of assignment it will be, nobody knows, but everyone knows there will be one, so there's no wriggling out of it. And if we didn't know there would be an assignment, then we would... Here the captain was forced to cut his speech short, and unexpectedly for everyone, including himself, turned toward the window, from behind which came strange sounds reminiscent of flapping wings.

— What's that? — asked the captain.

— Damned well sounds like flapping wings, — the prapor uttered in a hazy voice.

— F... B... P... — replied the captain.

The flapping drew closer. Everyone froze. Shouts rang out from beyond the window:

— Landing's not clear!

— Scuba gear!

— But it's NOT ALLOWED!

— If we got wings, we'll manage to crash!

There was the crash of shattered glass, the splintering of a transom frame, Probirka's shriek, the prapor's growl, clattering tableware from the kitchen, Cluster's "GAME OVER", the captain's "Hit the deck!", and Povorotov and co-pilot NI-ZYA tumbled into the room.

— Seems we've arrived, seems it's by your orders, seems it's the right place, and seems to be on time, — reported Povorotov, picking gears out of his teeth...

The captain's face changed from its usual grayish-green color to a pink hue unusual for him, signifying an extreme degree of displeasure, fury, high, horror, pleasure, satiety.

The senior lieutenant thought it was best not to mess with an enraged dolbo-oyster. Having said this to the captain, Povorotov modestly sat down on a vacant stool.

Meanwhile, the captain's face cycled through all the shades of the rainbow. Trying to say something, Blud flapped his mouth uselessly, finding no words. Finally he roared: "Did you understand what I meant to say?! If anyone didn't, — said the captain, gradually calming down, — they'll... they'll... they won't get anything." — dropped the captain, having calmed down completely.

And right then, with the grace of a cobra, Shkvarka entered through the door. In her hands she carried a tray, and at her waist swung a ladle that Ilya Muromets wouldn't have turned down in battle. On the tray lay something incomprehensible, giving off SUCH a smell that the broken mechanical mouse still lying on the floor hastily gathered its gears and parts and bolted from the room, leaving Cluster in mild shock, since he had played no part in the mouse's actions. Even the perpetually drunk prapor found himself sober as a judge.

— And here is your lunch, gentlemen, — Shkvarka said in a voice that sent chills running down everyone's spine several times, made every hair on their bodies stand on end, and turned their knees to jelly. "The evil old man Gameover has arrived," thought Cluster, while thoughts like "Why didn't I die when I was little?" began creeping into Povorotov's head. Meanwhile, Shkvarka handed each person a full bowl and, grabbing her ladle, took up a post by the door... For 3 hours, under the watchful eye of the cook, the crew members and passengers wrestled with their portions.

After Shkvarka took the last bowl and left the room, everyone rushed to the window, trying to purge their stomachs as best they could. But to their misfortune, they had been served the "Cosmonaut Tourist Breakfast in Zero Gravity", which is prepared with the addition of "MOMENT-39" glue, so that in zero gravity breakfast doesn't wander around the esophagus, but settles firmly on the stomach walls.

Realizing the futility of their attempts, the captain glanced at the watch he had bought by chance in a shop. But he discovered he had forgotten how to use it. Pulling out the manual, he immersed himself in studying it. Meanwhile, the trainee was strumming a tune popular at the time, "Let's go for a ride, pretty girl, make haste", while the first mate delved deeply into the question of "Why didn't the captain's socks and blanket run away when lunch was served?". Just as the first mate was approaching a solution to this problem, Captain Blud finished reading the final, 176th page of the manual, determined the time, and found that not much time was left until liftoff, and the ship hadn't even been dug out yet after Povorotov's last landing.

"All crew members, fall in!" — the captain commanded in a booming voice, at a frequency dropping into infrasound. The crew galloped around the room, looking for a place to fall in. As a result, everyone lined up around the captain. The captain began counting the crew, but after the third hundred he thought something was off. But what? Five times Blud recounted, and five times he got different numbers; once he even came close to the population of Earth. Finally, tired of counting, he commanded:

— Everyone who's here, follow me!!!

Thinking a little, he amended:

— Ahead of me!!! Trainee, go get the shovels!

3. OR LIFTOFF!!!

Sitting around the ship—if two antennas sticking straight into the zenith and a warped porthole could be called that—the crew began waiting for the trainee. Finally, something vaguely resembling a large, drunk hedgehog appeared on the horizon. Upon closer inspection, however, IT turned out to be the trainee carrying the shovels. In accordance with Blud's worst expectations, the trainee lived up to his surname. He had indeed brought shovels: TOY ONES! The captain roared:

— Is this a sandbox to you, or what? Are you an idiot or where? — Whereupon he turned pale, turned green, turned pink, and precipitated out.

The trainee came up, made his report, and mumbled:

— In accooordance with the order I receeeived, — said the trainee, fighting a yawn, — all available, — he pronounced the word AVAILABLE with a tremor in his voice, — shovels were obtained, — Nibe-Nime uttered with his dying breath.

— That probably wasn't a depot, but a day-care, — the prapor remarked weightily, watching with surprise as the captain began to crystallize.

When the crystallization process ended, Captain Blud flew into a rage and roared:

— Everyone take apart the shovels, you scoundrels, and dig out the "Landing", you villains! — whereupon he precipitated out again.

— What? — said the first mate. — What needs to be taken apart, and what needs to be dug out? Did any of you get that?

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