“This has been going on for too long. Ensign, arm disruptors. Prepare proton torpedoes 3 through 5,” orders the captain.

“Disruptors armed… and ready to fire, sir.”

“Sir,” booms the navigation officer suddenly, “they released us. We have control. But they’re preparing to fire as well.”

“Shields up, maximum power. Prepare for evasive maneuvers.”

“Sir, they’ve launched a proteic missile with a five terrayens warhead. Impact in 15 seconds.”

“Five terrayens???” shout the bridge crew almost at unison.

“Ensign, repeat that. Did you say five terrayens? Are you sure you’re reading correctly? Navigation, begin evasive maneuvers. Expedite. Battle deck, launch radioactive chaff. Expedite. Engineering, cloak us, expedite. Expedite expedite EXPEDITE!”

“Yes sir that is fiver – terra – yens of atomic energy coming straight at us, impact in 8 seconds.”

“Evading, sir,” says the navigation officer, “chaff is away and cloak is on, but we’re not shaking it sir. Fiver seconds to impact.”

All the crew are now staring at the main screen which shows the proteic missile approaching despite all their efforts. When it gets to almost impact, it starts furthering away, heading for the other ship.

“Holy Mother of The Nine,” says the captain in awe, “they have the technology to control a five terrayens proteic missile! These fellows are trying to teach us a lesson and they’ve put up quite a demonstration. They’re playing with us like we’re some child’s toys.”

They are now a little relieved, but still scared. They watch the proteic missile furthering away, back to the ship that launched it and now was capturing it back into her hangars. Or so they thought…

“Sir,” says the navigation officer, “she’s heading back too fast. They haven’t opened any hangars. Impact in eight seconds. Sir, it WILL blast. And with a five terrayens warhead everything on a distance of ten qarsecs will turn to radioactive ashes…”

“Great Reverend Mother of Muscat! This can’t be true! O’brain, take us out of here, warp nine, expedite, fast expedite, EXPEDITE!!! NOW! EXPEDITE!!! EX-PE-DITE!! They are here!”

And now the riddle: who was there? What did the captain realize?

The party starts cheering as Bilboa Badgins finishes his speech. Only Candalf, the wizard, looks suspicious.

Out of the blue, Sarumana’s fire dragons fly down on the unsuspecting crowd. Everybody freezes for a second, then runs for cover, each to his own, hiding under tables, in mole holes, in cricket hideouts and wherever. Everybody but three folks:

• Candalf stands proud, staff ready in his left, sword in his right, and starts mumbling some dragonskin spell.
• Bilboa, somewhat surprised, as this was the moment of his stunt, but he hadn’t pulled his stunt quite yet, so, not noticing the dragons, he’s wondering what’s wrong with the crowd.
• Per Grin Tok, who looks like he’s had too many pints of ginger ale, staring up with a queer smile.

The riddle: why is Per Grin Tok smiling?

“Yes, Shaggyd, I concur,” confirms the younger, less experienced commentator, “they are making a good game indeed. For those who’ve just turned the TV on, we are watching the game between Sun Bucharest and Manchester Divided. Manchester Divided scored in the first five minutes, and was ahead for almost all the game, but Sun Bucharest turned this around by scoring twice in three minutes when the game is almost over. Only a couple of minutes left.”

“Thank you, Slim Shaded,” continues Shaggyd, “for reminding our spectators the situation. Now let’s concentrate on the game, because I see Manchester Divided counterattacking, they pass the ball with extreme ease, closing in on the Sun Bucharest’s goalkeeper, and yeeeesssss, it’s a GOOOOAAAALL, what a comeback, with only two secods left from the game, the Romanians manage to score, which makes this game a tie.”

“Sorry to correct you, Shaggyd,” continues Slim Shaded, “but perhaps you mean the Englishmen manage to score.”

“No, Slim Shaded, I meant the Romanians. I told you so many times to stop making a fool of yourself correcting me. Now hush.”

And the riddle: Why did Shaggyd say that, what did he mean? Which of the two commentators is right?

“Are you hurt?” asks the fox, and then to the wolf: “She doesn’t seem to be wounded.”

They realize that the crow was dying. The wolf says to the fox:

“I know her. She’s the youngster you made fun of at the last forest gathering. The one who swore revenge.”

With her last strength, the crow manages to articulate:

“Revenge… will… be… mine…” and then departs this life.

“It’s a pity,” says the fox, “she misinterpreted my words. I meant no offence, it was nothing personal. Her lack of experience prevailed upon her. She was too young, her parents shouldn’t have let her take part in the counsel.”

“Aye,” confirms the wolf, “youngsters easily and needlessly get hot blood. Let us meditate for a moment that her spirit finds peace.”

After meditation, the fox says:

“Well, we must now take her body to the Fleshing Meadow for the fleshing ritual, to feast on her flesh as tradition requires.”

After a while, the wolf seems to have a revelation and suddenly protests:

“No! We must bury this youngster. She will be denied tradition.”

“On what grounds? For what reason is the fleshing ritual in the Fleshing Meadow to be denied to her? Tradition says we must feast on her flesh, to show our friendship and approval.”

And now the riddle: why did the wolf insist on burying her? What did he realize?

“Captain, are they coming?”

“Yeah… I see her… she’s cloaked. All men battle positions! Prepare photon torpedoes!”

“Armed photon torpedoes 1 through 4!”

“Open hailing frequencies! On screen! Show us their main deck.”

The screen lights up and shows the stars. The captain continues:

“A-ha, invisible suits for the crew of the invisible ship. They sent a first class spy ship. Open audio.”

“Audio channel already open sir.”

“A-ha, soundproof helmets for the invisible crew of the invisible ship. Nice combo. They really invested in this one. Send them a text message. Say greetings and may you go many parsecs.”

The officer types something then says:

“Sir, we got no confirmation receipt.”

“A-ha, ACK protocol disabled. OK. This is getting interesting. Psychic officer, tune in to their brain waves. Send ‘em this message telepathically: greetings and may many parsecs pass you by.”

Telepath says:

“Sir I detect nothing.”

“A-ha, psychic shields up. OK. That about sums it up. Good. Ensign, contact the Federation by subspace. Send this message: Alien spy hostile unidentified undetectable cloaked ship encountered. We were refused any contact and were unable to ascertain their true intentions. As per security protocol, we will open fire.”

The first officer looks puzzled. So does the entire crew. He says:

“Sir, are you sure this is necessary? Are you sure the spy ship is really there? We can’t see it, our sensors detect nothing… We’re wasting our torpedoes.”

“Quiet, number one. Just trust me, I see it with my special abilities. Ensign, set the photon torpedoes automatic discharge on coordinates 135, 200 mark 3. This should hit her straight in the heart. Engine room that is.”

“Sir I must speak up,” continues the first officer. “I think you are just trying to get ahead in your career, blasting inexistent spy ships and whatnot. Special abilities my ass. Enough with this charade. I must speak up. I think I can safely say that I speak for the entire crew. We have other important business to do on behalf of the Federation, instead of chasing fantasies and wasting a perfectly good five million feddolars torpedo.”

The captain stamps his foot and ignores him:

“Shut up, you know nothing. Ensign, on three, fire!”

“Belay that order! Enough!” said the first officer, smiling with satisfaction.

Why was the first officer smiling?

“Approaching the Jojoba system, captain.”

“Very well. Sensor readings?”

“Everything looks normal sir. We have visual.”

“On main screen.”

The officer presses some buttons on his panel and the main screen shows the Jojoba planet, with the orbital docking station prepared.

“Strange…”, says the captain, “they seem to be expecting us. How did they know we were coming?”

“Sir, I don’t think it’s us that they’re waiting for. I’m detecting a cargo ship, class M-35, heading for Jojoba as well.”

“M-35? That’s one of the biggest they make… and slowest. Navigator, we must not allow this cargo ship to dock before us. M-35s are known for their long docking procedure time. It could take as long as 6 hours. Our crew is craving those delicious Jojoba potatoes, we can’t make them wait that long. Ahead warp factor 7.”

“But sir, we didn’t get permission to dock.”

“No, we didn’t. But the docking station is prepared nevertheless. Let me worry about permissions, you just dock, and dock fast.”

The navigator presses some buttons and within seconds they are starting docking procedures, while the cargo ship was still several space miles away. The admiral that was in command on Jojoba was one of the captain’s friends, so the captain wasn’t worried about docking without permission.

“Docking complete, sir.”

“Very well. All crew maintain…” but before getting a chance to finish the phrase, the captain abruptly stops talking and chokes. After a couple of seconds, he spits out a potato. “What’s this supposed to mean?” shouts the captain angrily.

Another potato falls on his first officer’s head, out of nowhere.

“Security chief, report to bridge, expedite,” says the captain in the intercom.

As the door opens and the security chief enters, with a potato in his mouth, waves of potatoes from the corridor invade the bridge.

“Captain, permission to report,” asks the security chief after removing the potato from his mouth, “our ship is overrun by potatoes. And delicious ones too, I might add.”

Can you guess why was the ship overrun by potatoes?

As far as the correct solution for the riddle goes, here’s what happened, and how the story goes from here:

Smiling, the captain announces on the intercom:

“Everyone, rejoice, we have beaten the resilience record. The amount of time the crew of a ship of USS class can stand still in battle positions. This was the second test of the day, not for the security chief, but for all the crew. We managed 7 hours, 31 minutes, and 2 seconds, which is one hour more than the previous record, held by USS CakeCheese.”

“Hurray, hurray,” booms the ship with the enthusiastic crew, so loud that the member who had passed out and was on the way to the infirmary jumps up and shouts “hurray” as well, not really knowing why.

After some time the navigator announces:

“Captain, we’ve reached Jojoba.”

“Open hailing frequencies!” orders the captain, then greeting the Jojoba control tower officer on duty, “Greetings, and may Jojoba prosper! Requesting permission to enter orbit. My men are thirsty and hungry for some of your renowned potatoes!”

“Permission denied! You will not enter Jojoba system space. You are not granted permission to approach orbit. Set course backwards, expedite, or you will be fired upon.”

As the captain, and everyone, were still confused, seconds pass, then suddenly the chief of security shouts:

“Photon torpedo approaching, estimated impact seven seconds!”

“Shields up!” booms the captain. “Engines backward full. Code red. Open coded subspace transmitters, expedite! Transmit code three, seven, niner, four, five, eight, niner, three. Expedite.”

Just as he said the last word, and the chief officer pressed the Go button, the photon torpedo hits the shield, but the ship doesn’t shake or break.

“What is this new devilry?” asks the captain in a low voice, unable to comprehend the situation. The security chief, however, figures something out and smiles behind his panel.

What was happening? What did the security Chieftain Admiral understand that the others are still confused about?

“Well done, security chief,” says the captain on the intercom. “It was a test. All officers, meet me and number one on the main deck, to celebrate the security chief’s promotion to Chieftain Admiral of Armory and Weaponry!”

They all flock to the main deck, when suddenly the intercom goes live again:

“All crew, battle positions! All crew battle positions! This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill!”

Within moments all are at their posts.

“Take evasive maneuver!” shouts the captain.

“Evading enemies, go!” replies navigator.

“Shields up, 90 percent!”

“Up they go, 90 percent, sir!”

All were tensed, and this was augmented by the fact that they didn’t know what they were up against. The captain had had no time to inform them, too busy giving orders that saved the ship and their lives.

Everyone stood still, as seconds passed. Then minutes passed. Then hours passed, no one daring to interrupt. So they stood until the first fellow crew member fell to the floor, exhausted by hunger, thirst, tension and sleep deprivation.

“Take him to the infirmary,” says the captain. “Navigator, set course for Jojoba system. Let’s feast on some delicious potatoes to celebrate!”

What was there to celebrate?

“All officers to the holospace room. All officers to the holospace room,” can be heard on all intercoms.

From all around the ship, officers flock to the holospace room.

The captain was waiting there, with the first officer to his right.

“The captain has a very important announcement to make,” says the first officer.

“Thank you, number one,” replies the captain, “this is concerning all of us. Effective immediately, the first officer is in charge of this ship. I’m granting him full authority. You will follow his orders as if they were my own. You will direct all top security questions to him.”

The chief of security steps out of the crowd and says:

“First officer, you are under arrest for attempting to compromise security of this ship. The captain would never give such orders. This captain is obviously a hologram you have programmed as part of your scheme. Where is the real captain?”

As the security chief tries to handcuff the first officer, the cuffs just go through him – he was a hologram.

“What is this new devilry?” asks the security chief, very confused.

Indeed, what has just happened?

As I often do, I’d been searching for mushrooms in the old woods. I was quite happy, having found one of the rarest wonders: a ghost mushroom. Treading the path due east, to the green lake, I stopped to more carefully listen to the sounds of what seemed to be an ironfur bear. Sure enough, it was one, talking to a white wolf.

“You’re sure it was the right place?” asked the bear in a grave voice.

“Yes,” replied the wolf, “the dead tree was there, 10 paces north of the ancient milestone. But it was nowhere.”

“She’s going to die soon.”

I was close enough now to see the scene. The white wolf was tired from running, and the ironfur bear was carrying a fox on his back.

The fox seemed very weak, as she whispered something in the bear’s ear. Within moments, the wolf and the bear have me cornered against a large tree, showing their teeth in anger. Finally figuring what happened, I smile and relax.

Later, I’m treading the path due east, to the green lake, with three friends.

What happened?

The ship keeps spinning even after the sharp shark was thrown overboard.
“Climb down mates! Safe is the ship,” orders the captain.
But the sailors dare not let go of the mast, lest shall they be thrown overboard as well, lest shall they become food for the sharp shark.
“Argh!” says the captain. “Noobs! Climb down one by one, first one hold on to the mast, next one hold on to the first one. Make a chain of men! Reach for the helm and stay this madness!”
Slowly, men start doing as they are told. Within minutes, one of them reaches for the helm and stops the spinning. All are very dizzy and let go of the mast, making a pile of men at its base.
Before recovering well from dizziness or having a chance to react, their hands and legs are all tied, except for the sailor in charge with scrubbing the floors, who was now standing in front of two one-eyed men and grinning:
“Who’s the noob now, mates?”

“Weigh anchor! Hoist the sails!”
“Up we go, captain! North by north west!”
“Aye, aye! May we find peaceful waters and blue sky ahead of us!”
“Captain, shark on board! Sharp shark on board!”
“Up the mast, mates, climb up the mast! Make haste!”
Sailors from all around the ship make for the mast and start going up, up, up, one by one. It soon becomes apparent that the ship will lose balance, with all the weight up. Half the crew is on the masthead now. The captain shouts:
“Halt! Halt! All stop!”
Sailors freeze. The ship, with no one at the helm, starts spinning in circles, faster and faster, almost throwing the sailors overboard. The captain shouts once more:
“Hug the mast, mates! Hug the mast! Tight!”
“We’re gonna die! We’re all gonna die!” cries a young sailor, new to the craft, who was only allowed to brush the floors.
“Argh, quiet, noob! Watch and learn!” says the mate in a confident voice.

Why did the captain give such orders? What’s the new sailor supposed to learn?

“All crew officers, report to main deck.”
From all around the place, officers run to the main deck.
“I want status.”
“Engines running 60% load, no damage, sir, yes sir, enough fuel to reach there and back again,” says chief engineer.
“Shields down, no danger detected in 10 parsec range, sir, yes sir,” says chief armorer.
“Kitchen supplies will only last one more week, sir, yes sir,” reports chief chef.
“All right,” says the captain, then addressing to his first officer, “number one, suggest solution to potential problem.”
“I suggest, sir, yes sir, we teleport potatoes from Jojoba system on board to address crisis,” says first officer.
“Do you suggest perhaps we play target shooting with potatoes, number one?”
First officer blushes, realizing that he just made a gaffe.
“Sir, no sir, accept my apologies, sir, yes sir.”

And the riddle: why did the first officer apologize? What’s the gaffe?

“Are you absolutely sure?” asked the bear, as if to re-confirm.

“Yes,” replied the wolf, “the dog at the pig farm was tied with a chain and sleeping, that’s why I didn’t see it. You must hurry. It’s starting.”

“It’s the right thing to do, my old friend,” said the bear. “See you soon, on the green meadows of heaven forests.”

“So long, my old friend.”

They hug as good old friends would, then the bear mauls the wolf to death.

Impressed by the beauty and selflessness of the scene, I contemplate the whole story for a while, before returning to my mushrooms.

What had actually happened?