Home > 2012-13 Season, Ordeal of a Cosmonaut > The Ordeal of a Cosmonaut by “Nick”

The Ordeal of a Cosmonaut by “Nick”

January 12, 2013 Leave a comment Go to comments

More vile space whoppers by a liar of the highest water

The light here on Freebis is disappearing, marking the end of another strange day. Further expeditions into the outlands have revealed no new information. Just more barren, cracked wasteland. I take a tonic (comprised primarily of various candies run through a blender) and finally sit down to read Gustav’s account of the great Wandl Attack of 1995.

In the beginning, there are observations and scientific readings that would only be of interest to astronauts* and so I shall not reproduce them here. On page three, Gustav is joined by Commander Blectum, who arrives in a reconnaissance ship several months later; this I had not known and I resolve to probe Gustav about this once he recovers from his mysterious illness. The narrative paints Blectum as an enigmatic, perhaps even insane figure and may explain the preponderance of transportation models on the planet– Gustav writes, He orders things constantly from space-mail ships. I don’t know what these things are but ships land once or twice a week in the interior and Blectum disappears for long periods of time and does his very best to keep me away from certain areas on the planet.

Something happened in late 1994 and space-mail contact with Freebis was terminated. In early 1995, the planet lost complete and total contact with Earth and all reconnaissance and rescue missions were aborted. We have been left to die here, Gustav writes. For several days Blectum has sat sulking on the front slab, spitting into the dust. When I awoke this morning he left a note.

Dear Gustav,

I’m going into the Barrens. Do not follow me there. I have attached a list of coordinates. If you approach within 100 metres of any of these coordinates, you will be shot dead. The candy sheds in the outlands are safehouses. I shall not deprive you of sustenance.


Gustav writes, I have grown afraid. I have worn a path from the candy shed to the bunker– I am tentative about wandering too far for fear of being killed. I hear strange noises in the night– there is often a most eldritch howl. It is otherworldly. Occasionally, upon waking, I glance out the window and see a brief, hallucinatory vision in the early morning light. It is that of a pink pancake moving silently on spindly legs. It cannot be. When I look again, there is nothing there. Once, my feverish, candy-soaked brain convinced me of a whole army of pink pancakes, crouched grotesquely in the dust. Blectum, dressed in sleeveless fatigues, was their leader.

It must not be real.

I close the book. I can read no more tonight.

The story will unfortunately continue in further issues.

* Editor’s note: liars.

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