- Music
- 10 Apr 01
PROFESSOR POE'S ALMANAC
POE AWOKE in a large comfy bed. The room was womb-like, with a soft satin finish to the walls. There were no windows, but there were pictures of various see-through people either sitting around in what looked like plastic parks or standing behind membrane-like desks looking important.
POE AWOKE in a large comfy bed. The room was womb-like, with a soft satin finish to the walls. There were no windows, but there were pictures of various see-through people either sitting around in what looked like plastic parks or standing behind membrane-like desks looking important. Poe feeling good, lay back and listened to the soft gentle hum of the ship hurtling through the cosmos. Yes, he felt good except that he couldn’t feel his hands. Poe dragged his arms out from under the sheets, yes his hands were there but he couldn’t feel them.
Panic started to rise, he jumped out of the bed and ran to the only door in the room. Just before he got there, it opened. “Marvellous to see you Professor. Did you sleep well? Don’t worry about your extremities, we will sort that out in a jiffy.”
Poe’s see-through host led him to the nearest chair. “Professor Poe, please give me your word that there will be no more hanky panky and we will restore your equilibrium at once.” “I promise,” said Poe meekly. “Now shut your eyes and count to 5.” Poe shut his eyes and counted to 5. On the 4 number he felt a painfully disturbing energy flood into his hands. On the 5th his fingers twitched and shook like eels on a stick and his eyes watered with the fierce, sudden rush of feeling. “Good job it wasn’t your head, eh Professor?” said the host, with a slightly threatening look. “Anyway, it’s time to land, please follow me.”
Poe followed him down the soft winding corridor. Poe noticed, that at this level there were various artefacts stuck onto the soft brown walls, things like 3D photos, small bits of rock, cuttings of plants or bits of clothes hanging like tribal mementoes. There were no lifts, just a winding corridor rather like a snail’s shell which either took you up or down.
At the very bottom it opened into a large sparse chamber. In the corner were rows and rows of rock-like lockers. His see-through host waddled over to one and removed a white, lightweight one-piece suit complete with visor. “Professor please put this on, we don’t want you burnt to a crisp just yet, do we?” Poe looked up into his host’s face for signs of irony, but not seeing any decided to do as he was told.
Complete in his protective garb, they waited by the main exit for the craft to land. There was no bump, no sense of changing pressure, just a tap on the shoulder from his host and a sign to stand clear. The giant door eased effortlessly apart and as it did Poe was aware that he was standing in what could only be described as the epicentre of a nuclear power station. The radioactive rays danced and shimmered off his suit, a fierce white light shone over him, a light that would frazzle any passing fragment of dust into oblivion. Through the ghastly incandescence, Poe became aware that he was being led from the ship. He felt the intense radioactive halo trying to dissolve his suit. Poe caught sight of his host, almost transparent in the hostile crystal atmosphere, his see-through skin dulling the gross crackling waves.
Poe looked at the horizon to the far-off majestic hills and valleys, to his eyes it looked like a planet stripped bare of any protective laying at all, a planet that may have once been a fertile safe harbour for life in all its forms, but was now suffering a constant bombardment of every powerful ray going. Beautiful and hostile he thought, as he followed his host into the lower reaches of the arrival bay.
They climbed into a small truck and drove through the silent underway, down a well-lit passageway into a chamber with a sign over the opening called ASKA MUSIC LTD. Climbing down from the truck, they went through a corridor and came to a large brown door. Poe’s host turned the handle and said to Poe, “Professor please let me introduce my associates. Poe’s host nodded to the waiting assembly and the smallest one took from a case, what looked like a piece of clear plastic no more than 6x3 inches. “Professor, please try this.”
Poe reached and touched the shiny surface, a myriad of harmonics suddenly filled the air. Poe was reminded of a lost chord that he was always trying to remember. “Professor this instrument will attune itself to the user in a few seconds and will then be capable of making music that will bring your soul alive.” Poe stroked the clear plastic, a stunning blend of notes, chords, swirls, rippling arpeggios, earth-moving bass notes oscillated throughout the room. The subtle haunting interplay of melodies seemed to reflect Poe’s life – memories of friends and family filled the air, swathed in a bathe of notes without end.
The host and his associates smiled and waited for the right moment to interject. “Professor, we want this instrument to be with every member of your planet within the next three months, will you help us?” Poe’s brain reeled. “Does this contain the desire programme?” His host looked at his associates and together they nodded in silent agreement. Next issue: The Rogue Element.
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