Frek and the Elixir (52 page)

Zhak grimaced, showing a black tooth Frek hadn't noticed before. Zhak was fiddling with the ooey bag, undoing the seal. The bag's top flopped open, and Frek caught a smell compounded of disinfectant and decay. Zhak leaned into the carrier basket, his glittering eyes fixed upon Frek's. The web had drawn itself so tight that Frek could barely move his head. Zhak came closer, balancing the sack with the excited ooey right over Frek's face.

Someone please help me, thought Frek, not saying it out loud, as he didn't want to give PhiPhi and Zhak the satisfaction. But wasn't anyone watching over him? Frek could feel the golden glow. Surely there were espers looking through his eyes. Where were the Magic Pig and the Orpolese?

The living blood-clot of the ooey stretched a first tendril down toward the corner of Frek's eye. Help!

And then, finally, the welcome chaos of an Orpolese donut darted in, surrounding them with luminous orange walls. The Orpolese craft felt large on the inside, maybe a hundred meters across. Suspended in the center of the pumpkin-colored interior was a giant ebony cuttlefish, his curves rippling with iridescent fringes of color. In an instant, one of his glistening black tentacle-tips had snatched up the ooey and vaporized it in a puff of light. Two other tentacles plucked PhiPhi and Zhak from their seats and held them high in midair, while other black tendrils tore apart Frek's and Gibby's bonds.

“Gov getting you for this, Frek,” called PhiPhi, her voice shaking.

Meanwhile Frek and Gibby clambered out of the cargo basket and into the lifter beetle's front seats. Immediately the beetle settled to the curved orange floor of the donut and folded its veined wings beneath its metallic teal blue wing covers. It had a stubborn look about its compound eyes.

A flock of teardrop-shaped tweets spiraled down from a nub on the inner surface of the rind surrounding them. The tweets flew through Gibby, the beetle, and the humans as easily as if they were fog. Frek knew from past experience that the Orpolese were sampling their thoughts. The great black cuttlefish edged closer to talk.

“Yubba you,” said the alien, rolling from side to side, brandishing PhiPhi and Zhak like a witch-doctor's dolls. “I'm Vlan, and we're inside my main squeeze Tagine. Time to close the deal, Frek.” These were Bumby and Ulla's grandchildren.

“Tangerine?” said Gibby as if not understanding the name.

“Mandarin, kumquat, satsuma, tangerine,” riffed Vlan. “But the name is Tagine like the popular Moroccan dish. Meat, chard, and anyfruit steamed under a glazed clay cone, yubba. My sweet sour Tagine. You saw us get born?” Like Bumby before him, Vlan spoke in bursts and spirals.

“We saw it,” said Frek. “Whaler and Tusky pinched you off. What do you mean about closing a deal?”

“Activating the esper feedback loop is what you very well know I mean, bad boy. Don't scheme on burning us. A deal's a deal. For sure we're working our end.” Vlan waggled the struggling figures of PhiPhi and Zhak once again. “You got your elixir, and, yo, I'm here when you need me.”

“But I lost the elixir,” said Frek, mentally scrambling for ways to postpone the Orpolese control over humanity. “Renata stole it.”

“Never mind,” said Vlan, drifting still closer. Like Bumby, the Orpolese cuttlefish had yellow eyes with W-shaped pupils. On big Vlan, the eyes were intimidating. “Our audience is raring to go; they're solar-flaring a Congo beat. Start the, start the, start the show! Fact is, getting your elixir in action is one of our gamers' priority tasks. We've already got ten thousand customers, Frek—signed, aligned, and paradigmed.” Vlan extended a tentacle toward Frek, forming the tip into the shape of a shiny black hand. “Press the flesh, bro. Squeeze me tight.”

Frek knew full well that shaking Vlan's pseudohand was going to change everything. But at this point he had no other choice. The hand-shaped tip of the Orpolese alien's tentacle was firm and pleasant to the touch. Frek gave it a quick shake and broke contact. They'd closed the deal.

Right away Frek had the sense of something trying to latch onto his brain—an Orpolese player wanting to control him. He pushed the oncoming glow into the space around him; he made his thoughts as clear and permeable as air; he imagined combing his brain's patterns into their natural state. Sky-air-comb. The player slid aside, unable to take root or gain purchase.

Meanwhile Vlan set down Zhak and PhiPhi on the pumpkin floor beside Frek. All of a sudden the two counselors had tiny little donut-shaped halos floating above their heads, as if they were old-time cartoon angels. PhiPhi's donut halo was pale green with dark blue veins, while Zhak's was smooth gray with bilious yellow markings.

“We like to show the players' icons above their talent avatars,” said Vlan by way of explanation. “We bootstrap off the talent's wave function to realize a model into the talent world.” Clear as mud.

“I will help you now, Frek,” said PhiPhi. “Logging in Hexatope from galactic core. PhiPhi-Hexatope front and center for kicking Govvy butt.” She twitched spastically, nearly fell down, then caught her balance and lurched closer. “You need help to fly lifter beetle. Beetle only listen to PhiPhi. I fly you Stun City for the revolution. Shut up, Gov!” With a quick motion, PhiPhi whipped her hand up and tore the uvvy off her neck and tossed it on the floor.

“Me yes too,” said Zhak, casting away his own uvvy. “Logging in Gaga. Want slash puffball with sword.” By way of demonstration, Zhak began executing a series of karate moves, circling around the gently curving orange floor.

Though Zhak was initially awkward, as the distant gray esper learned the counselor's body parameters, the twists and lunges took on an inhuman smoothness and intensity. Soon Zhak was executing the supernaturally deft katanas of a martial arts toon character. A final somersault and twist brought the counselor to a standstill directly before Frek.

“Zhak-Gaga report for action. We fly to Stun City and recruit.” The little gray and yellow halo wobbled above his head.

“Urk,” interrupted Gibby, still sitting next to Frek in the beetle's pod. “Urk, urk, urk.” There was the ghost of a halo above the Grulloo, a pink and blue thing that kept flickering in and out of visibility. Gibby was fighting the takeover.

“Sky-air-comb!” Frek urged his friend. “Diffuse the signal. Don't give the esper any clear thoughts to latch onto. Focus on your self. You can do it, Gibby.” Frek laid his hand on Gibby's scaly tail, willing strength into his friend. Gibby shuddered, struggling to keep the esper off. But his struggles were weakening; the pink halo looked nearly as real as Gibby's brown skin.

“Let him alone,” Frek cried to Vlan. “Leave Gibby and Renata and our families out of it.”

“You got it,” said Vlan, and then made some slobbering, chirping noises for the benefit of Gibby's halo. The pink bagel disappeared, and Frek could see Gibby becoming his old self. But for the moment, the Grulloo was too wrung-out to talk.

“Hella many fleshapoids,” continued Vlan. “Even if we spare a few. Eleven thousand Orpolese espers and five billion humans realtime census, tick-tick! Got a ten-percent subscription bump soon as we went live. Fat spike of flame-brains spinning toward Stun City, you understand. Everybody wants to see Frek make the walls come atumblin' down. Blow your horn, baby. Squonk it. Me, I'm out of the picture for now. Bye-and-bye.”

Abruptly Tagine irised open a hole beneath the lifter beetle. It was all that PhiPhi and Zhak could do to clamber into the beetle's cargo basket before they all dropped clear of the glowing orange donut.

“Yee haw!” whooped Gibby from the front seat beside Frek. He was fully in control of himself again, reckless and devil-may-care. “I'm lovin' it, Frek!” They were falling like a stone, the wind whistling past. The Grulloo rose up on his arm-legs and peered into the back. “You two losers grokkin' this? Ready to splat?”

“Beetle fly!” shouted PhiPhi and, hearing her voice, the kritter flipped up its teal wing-covers and let its wings cut the air. “Fly Stun City,” added PhiPhi.

“I want to find Renata,” said Frek. “I bet she's with Yessica. Do you know where Yessica is, PhiPhi?”

“No,” said PhiPhi. “My work mostly in Middleville. We land Stun City ask around, maybe we can find her.”

Frek had to wonder if, even with Gov's uvvy gone and the Orpolese controlling her, PhiPhi was totally on his side. Meanwhile, their flight leveled out. The sun was still near the horizon, flooding the world with kind morning light. Below them was the winding green River Jaya, with the occasional elephruk lumbering along the sandy road beside it. Across the river were the bluffs and the dense Grulloo Woods, gently tossing in the breeze. A second road ran along the top of the bluffs, traversed by a few Grulloos with their own little elephruks.

“Do you want to go home?” Frek asked Gibby. “We could fly you there fast.”

“Negatory, good bud,” said Gibby. “I ain't gonna miss no revolution. With them Orpolese runnin' half the town, we'll romp all over Stun City. We'll tear up that puffball and get them new genes a-growin'.”

“Yes,” said Frek. “But I wonder what happens after that?”

“You worry too much, kid,” said Gibby, staring over at the Grulloo road atop the bluffs. “It's a beautiful day. I feel some verses comin' on.” Gibby tapped out a rhythm on the lifter beetle's side and sang.

And with that, Gibby did turn around to prod PhiPhi's knee and, just as he'd hoped, she sent the beetle sloping across the river to alight beside an elephruk traversing the Grulloo road at the top of the bluffs.

And it wasn't just any elephruk, it was Gibby's old Dibble, recognizable by the sour expression on her face. Riding on Dibble's head was a red-jacketed Grulloo peaceably smoking a pipe. Yes, it was none other than Gibby's neighbor Jeroon, bringing home a basket of stim cell nuggets from Stun City.

“Kac howdy, Jeroon!” exulted Gibby, rocking across the road on his gnarled pair of arm-legs, keeping his balance by beating his scaly tail. “Don't worry about them counselors in our lifter beetle. We got 'em under control.”

“The prodigal husband,” said Jeroon, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “You missed my wedding. You and this gang been on a spree? I see you've still got that Nubbie boy with you. Hi, Frek!”

Frek called out a greeting. Evidently Jeroon wasn't being run by an esper, as he didn't have a halo. Probably the Orpolese gamers were focusing on the people in the cities.

“Paw!” called a piercing voice from the elephruk's bed. It was red-haired little Bili, showing his sharp yellow teeth in an open-mouthed smile.

Gibby's joy knew no bounds. “Bili! You lookin' so good!” In an instant, Gibby had scuttled over and wrapped his limbs around his little son, pressing the tiger-tailed boy against his face. “I never thought I'd made it back to these woods,” said Gibby. “Salla's okay? And LuHu?”

“They're fine, Paw,” said Bili, squirming at the tight embrace. “We were wondering about you.” Like Gibby and Jeroon, Bili didn't have a halo.

“I was wondering, too,” said Gibby. “But now I'm almost home.” He turned his face up to the sky. “Thank you, Gaia, for bringing me this close.” Tears were running down his hard, flat cheeks.

“Salla enlisted me to fetch you and Dibble,” said Jeroon. “I couldn't stop your lad from tagging along, although I'd expected to find you besotted in the Brindle Cowloon.”

Without missing a beat, Gibby switched from thanking Gaia to yelling at Jeroon.

“Nosin' into my business and my family life, are you?” he hollered, quickly drying his face. “You shoulda got three times as many nuggets as that. You been suckered by Phamelu. Why ain't you home with your new wife instead of takin' over my affairs? You got your eyes on Salla or somethin'?”

“Oh, of course,” said Jeroon sarcastically. “I've completely abandoned my bride, Ennie. My highest goal in life is to wear the great Gibby's mantle. If only I, too, could be a stupid, ill-tempered, unreliable, ungrateful moolk-guzzler. Surely that must be any Grulloo's fondest dream.”

Gibby glared at Jeroon for a moment without saying anything, and then he recovered his equilibrium. “Don't mind me,” he said. “I'm just hungry. I been to the center of the galaxy, the edge of the universe and back, Jeroon. I gotta eat some of them stim cell nuggets.”

“Help yourself,” said Jeroon calmly. “That's a long voyage you're talking about. If it's true. Say, Frek, did you find any use for the chameleon mod and the Aaron's Rod I gave you?”

“They saved me three times,” said Frek. Meanwhile Gibby stuffed a handful of stim cell nuggets in his mouth, passing a few to Bili as well. The lifter beetle was avidly grazing upon the roadside shrubs.

“Eat fast, Gibby,” urged Frek. “I want to get to Stun City and look for Renata.” Something occurred to him then. “Hey, Jeroon, when you were in Stun City, did you notice a really annoying woman named Yessica Sunshine?”

“Most all Nubbies are annoying,” said Jeroon. “What's this Yessica like?”

“Well—she has long blond hair she wears all tangled. She has small eyes, she frowns a lot, and—oh, yeah—she has three pairs of breasts running down her chest.”

“
That
woman,” said Jeroon. “Yes, I saw her. She was sitting behind the counter with Phamelu at the Brindle Cowloon, the two of them gossiping and hatching plans like a pair of sisters.”