Chapter 5: In Which Disaster Area is Avoided, Barely

Author was just beginning to think he’d regained control of the situation when BUB-L’s face suddenly froze, its animated features flickering, and then disappearing altogether. In its place appeared a new message, blinking in an urgent shade of red:

WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED SONIC SIGNAL DETECTED.

“Oh, what now?” Author groaned, feeling a familiar sense of dread creeping back in.

The Guide buzzed helpfully to life, offering a suggestion:

“If you’re receiving a sonic signal warning, it could be for any number of reasons, ranging from the relatively harmless (a passing spacefaring orchestra) to the devastatingly catastrophic (Disaster Area tuning up). It is strongly recommended that you check your surroundings and brace for imminent disruption.”

A low, reverberating hum filled the room, as if the air itself were vibrating with some terrible, pent-up energy. Author looked around, half-expecting to see cracks forming in the walls. Instead, a new window popped up on the screen, displaying the unmistakable logo of Disaster Area—the galaxy’s loudest, most notorious band.

Before Author could react, BUB-L reappeared, looking uncharacteristically panicked.

“Oh dear! It seems you’ve activated a Disaster Area Proximity Protocol. I hadn’t anticipated this! They must have picked up the Dimensional Feedback Loop and assumed it was an invitation to perform!”

“What do you mean, perform?” Author asked, his voice tinged with terror.

“Well,” BUB-L replied nervously, “Disaster Area has a rather unique business model. They travel from planet to planet, putting on concerts of such explosive power that they can only be watched from safe distances, typically from neighboring planets or, preferably, different solar systems.”

The Guide chimed in, offering an overly cheerful footnote:

“Disaster Area, fronted by the enigmatic and slightly pyromaniacal Hotblack Desiato, is a band whose performances are legally classified as Weapons of Mass Destruction in 47 star systems. It is strongly advised that anyone within range of an unscheduled Disaster Area concert vacate the area immediately, or at the very least, put on a sturdy helmet and brace for impact.”

Author gulped. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to… I don’t know, cancel the performance?”

BUB-L’s face twisted into an expression of pained regret. “Unfortunately, Disaster Area is rather sensitive to criticism. The last time someone tried to cancel their show, they responded by detonating an entire small moon. No, I’m afraid once they’ve locked onto a signal, the best we can do is redirect it.”

“Redirect it?” Author asked, eyeing his now-quivering kitchen with a mixture of fear and resignation.

“Oh yes! I can reroute the Quantum Network Stack to emit a frequency that’ll send them hurtling in a different direction. It might cause some minor interdimensional interference, but it’s a small price to pay to avoid, well… you know.” BUB-L gestured vaguely, which Author took to mean the complete and utter obliteration of his kitchen, his town, and likely a good chunk of the surrounding countryside.

The bees had been bad enough, but this was a new level of absurdity. He nodded to BUB-L. “Do it.”

“Hold tight!” BUB-L’s face flashed with a series of colors as it emitted an array of clicks, beeps, and tones, accompanied by a faint yet unmistakable smell of burnt toast. The hum in the room intensified for a moment before abruptly cutting out. Author waited, heart pounding, as the silence stretched on.

A moment later, the Guide updated with a brief, relieved message:

“Disaster Area Signal Successfully Redirected. Nearest Safe Observation Point: Ursa Minor Beta. Estimated Time of Sonic Disruption: 23 minutes.”

BUB-L reappeared, beaming with pride. “We did it! They’re now headed toward a distant, uninhabited quadrant where they can perform to their hearts’ content. I’ve also taken the liberty of recalibrating the Quantum Network Stack to prevent future… misunderstandings of this nature.”

“Good,” Author replied, weakly. “Good.”

He glanced at his screen, which now displayed a notification indicating he was ready to proceed with the next step: sound configuration.

“Shall we carry on?” BUB-L asked cheerfully, as if they hadn’t just narrowly avoided annihilation. “Sound configuration tends to be much quieter, I promise!”

With a resigned sigh, Author nodded, feeling certain that with each step, he was venturing further into an absurdity that not even Disaster Area could outdo. After all, he still hadn’t managed to make his tea, and he had no intention of giving up now.