The Archfornicator of Canterbury

79 Back in the donut

A shimmering beam of light became more substantial second by second, as the transporter reconstructed Intardo Musilicus deep within the confines of the alien space vessel. When the reconstruction was complete, Musilicus opened his eyes. The transporter room was empty, except for the pedestal he stood on and the operating console, which was unmanned.

"...go through the door..."

A hole appeared in the wall. Musilicus stepped down from the pedestal and went through the hole. He was back in the large hall where he'd been resurrected on the floating table. He felt like it had happened years ago, even though it had only been a few days. So much had happened in the meantime. The table was still there, floating in the middle of the room. He approached the table.

When he got closer, he could see that there was a small object on top of the table. He picked it up. The object looked like a pocket calculator. The keypad had a 4 by 4 grid of buttons with strange markings. He picked one at random and pressed it. The display became alive and showed three distinct symbols, each one as strange as the ones on the buttons.

"What is it."

"...it's a calendar..."

"A calendar."

"...a fisherman's calendar..."

"...you can use it to tell when it is a good time to go fishing..."

Musilicus was dumbfounded. Here he was, in the belly of an alien space donut, and the aliens were giving him a silly trinket for all his troubles. After everything he'd done for them. He turned the calendar upside down to check whether it said "MADE IN CHINA" on the bottom. It didn't. He suppressed the urge to throw the calendar at the floor with all the force he could muster.

"Well thank you very much. It must have been quite taxing for your superior intelligence to come up with this. I am at a loss for words here."

"...we are happy you like it..."

"...please keep it to remember us by... and it does work very well..."

Musilicus was indeed looking forward to the time when he could go fishing once again. He was starting to get fed up by all this alien spokesman business. It didn't seem like there was any money in it. Just fisherman's calendars. Certainly no job security as the aliens would be heading home in just a few days. He wondered whether the Cathedral's wine cellar would still be there after the spaceship took off.