SARGASSO SAILS

CHAPTER 10

JAM AT MANGROVILLE



   I was the last to arrive at Mangroville. The Islanders were exceptionally punctual considering they had no conception of time. I figured that they must have understood the importance of this meeting. I figured wrong.
   By the time I got ashore, the assembled masses were staggering already. Bunky and Nelligan had their heads in a pail of Bam, while Shahairy babbled away about something. The McCormants and Irogators were passing around flasks of Bourbam, and the O'Henries were fluttering around the Herb Pit with the Jahstamoments. They seemed to be trying to outdo the butterflies with their aerial prowess. Kayaya was leaning against Akviro, who seemed to be the only sober Islander present. I tried to convince them of the impeding danger and the intentions of the Konkers, but they were more inclined for music.
   Our hosts greeted each arrival with a musical motive. Soon the air was full of timbres. The Bamboozlers' mallets became a blur as the music intensified. 'Tuk Tukka Tuk's' blended with the Irogators' percussion and clacking. Some of the Irogators had borrowed a bottomwhomper from the Bamboozlers and were pounding on it for all they were worth. Peliguins and McCormants were soon bellowing and squawking in strange harmonies.
   They say that Nero fiddled while Rome burned. I figured I might as well get my keyboard out and join in the jam session while they were still performing, oblivious to their impending doom. There was obviously no way I could convince them to take a course of action at this point.
   Counterpoint countered counterpoint and harmony harmonized more harmony until the music became one huge cacaphony. Then the music began to subside as more and more of the players began to drop. The curious thing is that they all seemed to pass out on cue. Three Irogators slept with their heads on a bottomwhomper. Bunky and Nelligan were crashed with their heads together, arm in fling. Kayaya lay at the feet of Akviro, the only Islander left standing. Even Rastjahzz and the Jahstamoments were drooping.
   Then I began to discuss the situation with Akviro. He made it clear that none of the Islanders had a mean bone in their bodies. It was unlikely that they had the propensity to fight. But Akviro knew the weaknesses of the Konkers. They lived in mortal fear of the volcano. He also told me of a freshwater holding pond that was on the side of the volcano. The Konkers' aversion to fresh water meant that they were always shoring up the embankments of this pond so it would not spill over on them and moult their shells. They hated ostracods an all their freshwater cousins.
   I related to Akviro my experience with the Coners earlier at Konkerville. He seemed impressed that the mollusks could be repelled by alcohol, but warned that there was probably a shortage of that substance due to the jam session.
   At this juncture, I confessed that I was not too keen on getting any more involved. It was, after all, the Islanders'problem. I wasn't from the Summerlands, and any participation in this conflict might have consequenses that might affect their evolution or devolution. I didn't want that on my conscience. I was simply a tourist who was for the moment, quite lost.
Akviro surveyed the mass of bodies strewn all over the island and shuddered. I knew what he was thinking. They're only passed out now. What if they were dead? He had lived with these innocent creatures for hundreds of years, without trying to impose any of the concepts from his technologically advanced society. Knowledge has its price... paradise lost.
   Akviro remained long in thought. A certain sadness swept over his countenance as if the responsibily of leadership was too much of a burden. The alternative was worse...slavery.
   He turned and stared at me. It was if I could see eons of time in his tranquil blue eyes. He was going to try and convince me. He cleared his voice and began:


ON TO "INTERLUDE"

JAHSTAMOMENT...GET ME OUTA HERE