Hylozoic (36 page)

As Chu focused on the Peng, the room around him grew vague, which was just as well, what with Momotaro smirking at him and Bixie avoiding his gaze.

The exultant Kakar was in overdrive; he was processing hundreds of pioneer runes and passing them to the Crownies. The new runes were so slick and compact that even that dull-witted guy, Steve, could handle them. Chu made another attempt to wrest a full copy of Ouroboros 2.0 from Kakar's mind, but the bird's teep-shield was stronger than before, and smart enough to flash Chu an image of a two-toed foot kicking dirt at him.

“Julie's hopping down the West Coast, laying a fresh Peng ranch at each stop,” announced Ond. “Man, she's moving fast. She's in Napa! The others are doing China, the Persian Gulf, and India. And, oh no, one of them is in New York.”

Steve the Crownie was standing in Times Square, preparing to channel all of Gotham's gnarl into the tulpas of a single party of Peng pioneers. Parasitizing the great city's mind was trivially simple. The Crownie tweaked a single atom in a chewed piece of gum on the sidewalk; the rune raced out across the boroughs—and the Big Apple was a gnarl-free ranch for a happy family of four Peng pioneers.

“I blew it,” said Chu, feeling blank and scared.

The local silps had picked up on the spreading fear. The Santa Cruz breeze grew fitful, the waves fell apart, pelicans wheeled uneasily in the sky.

“That Crownie girl is in Sausalito now,” exclaimed Jil. “She'll skip over San Francisco, zap San Jose, and head for here.”

“Help us, Gaia!” cried Nektar. “Help Chu like Pekka helped Kakar!”

“Gaia's not getting anywhere,” said Chu bitterly. “Our planet's dumber than theirs. What I'll have to do is find Jayjay or the pitchfork.”

“I'm ready to set off volcanoes like nobody's ever seen,” teeped Gaia, her voice low and angry. “I'll atomize my whole crust before I let those Peng win.”

“Don't do that, Gaia,” said Bixie. “Chu saved you before, and he'll save you again. Chu rules.”

Chu felt an unfamiliar sensation around his mouth. He was smiling. “Thanks, Bixie. I—I've been worried that you might think I'm—”

“Never mind that stuff. I like you the same. You're my friend.”

Something crashed against the roof. Oh wow, it was Duxy's snout. But, just now, Chu was so happy that even this seemed wonderful.

The young manta was bigger than the house. Her beating wings whirled the towels and the beach furniture into the street like confetti. “Chu,” she skirled, making the cottage's timbers creak. “Come out and play!”

“Don't!” cried Nektar. “Let's teleport home to San Francisco so—”

“I can't go to a Peng zone,” interrupted Chu. “The Peng want to kill me!”

“Chu's our hero,” said Bixie, smiling and tossing her head. She stretched out her arms.

Chu ran across the room and hugged her. It was friendly hug, not a romantic one. Bixie didn't feel that way about him.
And maybe she never would. But suddenly that seemed okay. It was good to be friends.

As the house shook yet again, Chu marched onto the porch to face the manta. Duxy wasn't the only Hrull out there. Some of those whirling shapes in the sky were other giant mantas, diving into the streets of Santa Cruz. They were gathering as many pushers as possible before the Peng took over.

Duxy settled onto the yard, her open mouth level with the porch. She'd grown to her full adult size—two hundred feet from wingtip to wingtip.

“Leave us alone,” cried Kittie, at Chu's side with that same old stonker gun in her hand.

“It's okay, Kittie,” said Chu. “I want to go with her. I have a plan. But, Duxy, only take me, okay?”

The great manta teeped her assent. With his exceptional powers of concentration, Chu was a prize. Moments later, he was inside and they were airborne.

“Hi, Chu,” said skinny Glee, lolling on her bunk, quite stoned. “Duxy has been bribing me to tag after you.”

“Can you believe how my daughter's grown?” teeped Wobble the Hrull, wedged into a bunk like an oversized leather cushion. Chu could sense the aging Hrull's anxiety about his fate. Once Duxy found herself a husband, her dad would be out in the cold.

“Start charging the teeker cone!” commanded Duxy.

“I'll help push you,” said Chu. “But don't put gel on me. I'm done with that crap for good.”

“Gel, gel, gel,” said Duxy impatiently. “That's all you pushers talk about. You're not getting gel before the jump anyway. This is the big one, mind you, all the way to the Hrullwelt. And if you and Glee can't push me to the Hrullwelt alone, I'll circle back and get that little girl that you're so—”

“We can do it!” cried Chu.

“Fine, then,” said Duxy. “It's time. Your whole planet's going to be Peng ranches pretty soon. And then the Peng will start exterminating the mammals. They always do that if they can. And I'm teeping that your planetary mind wants to blow up her crust. It's all over here. A dead end. Push.”

“Give me a just a second to catch my breath.”

Using encrypted teep, Chu fed his old Knot code to Glee.

“What's this?” she privately teeped back.

“The key to a parallel world. The Hibrane.”

“Wonderful,” answered Glee. “I am very ready for something new.”

Down below, the other Hrull continued scooping up locals from the beaches and the sidewalks of Santa Cruz. People were panicking and trampling each other; faint screams drifted up. A tiny blond figure appeared on the town wharf, stretching out her arms for calm. Julie the Crownie. Focusing on her, Chu saw her furrowing her brow, getting ready to—

“Push!” roared Duxy.

Chu and Glee pushed—but not in the direction the Hrull expected.

They shot out of space like a pinched pumpkin seed, skimming across the glassy Planck sea toward the Hibrane, searching for Jayjay, for the pitchfork—and for Thuy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A
zaroth's
upstairs room at the Muddy Eel had a single window and no lock on the door. Rather than glass panes, the window had a wooden shutter. An earthenware chamber pot peeped from beneath the bedstead like a rude joke.

“Did you say they have baths here?” asked Thuy. She felt lank and oily. Yesterday she hadn't even had a chance to wash after that insane fuckathon with Chu. Oh God, oh God. And last night she'd slept on the ground with beggars.

“The bathhouse is in back,” said Azaroth. He talked rapidly, out of consideration for the fact that Thuy's natural clock rate was six times as fast as his. “You just walk through the inn. It's good. They use a spring in the bathhouse instead of canal water. The bath should be lively with so many people in town for the big market. They call it a stew.”

“Come with me,” said Thuy.

“I need a nap. Things are so wild, you'll blend in. There's all sorts of freaks around. Just tell Vrouw Engst you're my guest. She's the landlady.”

It was dark now, and the inn's public room was filled with festive fairgoers: merchants, peasants, craftspeople, musicians, conjurors, acrobats, soldiers, actors, and surely some pickpockets. A raw-boned woman with short brown hair stood vigilantly by the kitchen door: Vrouw Engst. Speaking slow Brabants Dutch, Thuy introduced herself, saying she was Azaroth's cousin. Showing no real surprise at her new guest's one-foot-height, Vrouw Engst gave her a handkerchief for a towel and directed her to the bath.

It was a low-ceilinged, echoing room, lit by tallow candles. The rectangular tub was made of four low stone walls lined with varnished wood. Springwater trickled from a split boulder into a kettle; another kettle sat warming on a wood-fired stove. Though a bit smoky, the air was wonderfully moist and warm. A rear door stood slightly ajar, giving onto a kitchen garden.

A cheerful party of four sat in the tub, picking at a platter of roast duck and turnips. They cheered at the sight of tiny Thuy, calling out for her to join the stew, their voices low and draggy.

“You're in town for the festival?” said the woman on the left, loosely perched upon the knee of a well-muscled young man. She had big cheeks, pale blue eyes and a chipped front tooth. Her pale boobs bobbled in the water. “I work here in the inn. My name's Anja. What a nice body you have for a dwarf.”

“I'm normal-sized where I come from—the Garden of Eden in the New World. My name's Thuy Nguyen.”

“You're a friend of Azaroth's? He's such a handsome man.”

Thuy shed her grotty clothes, slipped into the big bath, and swam about, enjoying the feel of the clean, lukewarm water.

“Paddle over here, my child,” said a bearded man wearing a top hat and nothing else. He had one arm around a lean white-haired woman. With his free hand he made a mystic pass in the air. “We'll feed you. I'm Luc and this is my wife Dora. I make things disappear and she tells people where to find them. I've never seen you at the other fairs, dear. What's your trade, exactly? Cut-purse?” His hand drifted over to the duck and he ate a bit of it, his Adam's apple working up and down.

“Maybe she's an acrobat,” said the man holding Anja. He had an even growth of pale blond stubble upon his scalp, cheeks, and chin. “Menso's the name; tumbling's the game. Stand on my hand, little elf, I'll raise you high.”

Wanting to be friendly, Thuy found a perch on Menso's palm. Smoothly, though grunting with the effort, he raised her a full arm's length over his head. Being made of Lobrane matter, Thuy was much heavier than he'd expected. She rose on her toes and did a shallow dive into the tub, enjoying the downward glide through the air. The four applauded.

“A thimble of wine, dear?” said the weathered Dora, her voice slow and cozy. “Settle in by me, and I'll tell your fortune.” Her lower jaw came up almost to her nose; she had but four teeth.

Top-hatted Luc clapped his hands and produced a tiny earthenware plate, seemingly from thin air. He served Thuy a portion of the duck and turnips. Thuy sat on the tub's rim and dug into the food, turning down the offer of wine. It was mellow here. Even without telepathy, she could feel a pleasant vibe of consciousness from the undulating water, the flickering candles, the glowing coals in the stove. Suddenly she understood a remark Jayjay had made when talking about his
visions last night. Everything was already alive, even without lazy eight. Everything on Earth had been alive since the beginning of time.

This uplifting train of thought was interrupted by Anja. “Are you staying with Azaroth?” asked the blond woman in a suspicious tone. “You're not a freelancer, are you?”

“My husband and I are putting up at a local painter's house,” said Thuy primly. “Jeroen Bosch?”

“Him!” exclaimed Anja, and let out a coarse guffaw. “He's been here a few times. A slimy catch. He wanted me to empty my chamber pot onto him before sticking in his carrot.”

“Maybe you should do that to me,” said Menso, playing with Anja's breasts. “We could roll around like pigs.” His penis had risen so that its tip poked through the water's surface.

“
Pfui
!” said Luc, tossing his top hat over it and making a pass with his hand. “Don't frighten our little maiden from Eden.” He lifted the hat and a single red rose floated where the lewd display had been.

“She's no maiden,” said Dora, eying Thuy. “She's with child.”

“How do you know that?” cried Thuy.

“I'm a seer.” Dora stared fixedly at the spots of light dancing on the water. “I see more. You'll go down through hell—and end up in heaven. And then—how auspicious—you'll give birth to a hero. And there's something about—a pitchfork?”

“That's me,” twanged Groovy in the local Dutch dialect, slipping in through the crack in the back door. “Howdy, Thuy.”

“Satan!” shrieked Anja, her pink face turning pale. She billowed out of Menso's lap and raised her hands to the heavens. “Forgive me dear Lord for my life of sin!”

“He's not a devil,” Thuy reassured Anja. “He's just a—a low peasant who can change his form. A harmless conjuror like Luc.”

“I'm not staying here,” said Anja, retreating to the far end of the pool. “Let's go to your room, Menso.”

“I'm in the shared dormitory,” said the stubble-headed acrobat, sloshing after her. “Do you have a private room?”

“Yes,” said Anja in a low tone. “But that costs a little extra. And you can't dirty it up.”

“How long can I stay?”

“Oh, till midnight,” she said, feeling Menso's biceps and kissing his bristly cheek. Raising her voice and glancing upward as they left the room, she added. “I'll walk in the procession tomorrow, dear Lord. That's got to count for something.”

Groovy dipped his prongs into the bathwater, making the tub tingle with rapid vibrations. It felt good, but at the same time it was annoying.