Frek and the Elixir (51 page)

“We'll be downstairs,” said Lora. “I'll get some breakfast ready.”

“Breakfast!” squeaked Wow.

“You two dogs go outside where you belong,” said Lora. “But, yes, I'll feed you Wow, don't worry. I bet you're glad to see Woo. She's been asking about you.”

“Make puppies,” said Wow.

“That would be nice,” said Lora, not wanting to start trying to explain about the knockout virus. Maybe Wow was as smart at Frek, but it wasn't obvious anymore. He was back to seeming like nothing more than the family dog. “Go on outside with you two. Now.”

“What do Grulloos eat, really?” Ida asked Gibby as the dogs clattered down the stairs.

“Stim cell nuggets are the main thing,” said Gibby, bending his tail around to give Ida's shoulder a tap. “And little girls.” Ida gave a delighted shriek and danced back out of reach. “And if you don't have no nuggets,” continued Gibby, “maybe Frek can make me some.” The Grulloo glanced up at Renata. “Did you send word to Salla like I told you to?”

“I only got my angelwings from Yessica yesterday,” said Renata. “And then I forgot all about Salla.”

“I need a lift home,” said Gibby with a frown.

“Frek didn't bring back his angelwings,” reported Geneva, standing by the window. “And Renata left hers out overnight. Don't you know about keeping them safe from dogs, Renata? How did you lose your wings, Frek?”

“Oh, I'll talk after my shower,” said Frek. None of this was working the way it was supposed to. He padded down the hall to the bathroom, threw his clothes on the floor, and stepped into the arched little shower stall. The soft walls sprayed him all over with jets of water, hot and soapy at first, then hot with no soap, then brisk and cold.

Though the shower felt good, the bad thoughts kept coming. Yessica would have tried to improve her position by telling Gov everything she knew—and she knew enough to make Frek seem dangerous—assuming Gov believed her. And he probably would, no matter how many lies Frek and Lora told.

Really, it was a wonder the counselors weren't here already. Maybe nobody had looked at the feeds from Lora's house tree walls yet today. Things weren't going to stay calm for long, that was for sure. Frek should go underground as fast as possible. Gibby could hide him in the Grulloo Woods. And Renata could come along. They'd change the world from there. Yes.

Frek stepped purposefully from the shower.

As was customary, when Frek stepped out of the shower the house tree wall flopped down a soft absorbent swatch of material, enveloping him to dry off the moisture. Fine, but while the towel was over Frek's head, someone darted into the bathroom. Frek could hear the light footsteps, but he couldn't quite tell who it was.

“Hey,” he said, struggling to disentangle himself. Getting clear took just that one or two seconds too long. When he was free, there was nobody around, and his clothes were gone. The pants and purple shirt he'd crafted on Unipusk.

“Mom,” shouted Frek, hoping it had just been her, maybe doing laundry.

Nobody answered. From downstairs came the sounds of his family having breakfast. Frek hurried down the hall. The whole second floor was empty, with a morning breeze blowing in through his bedroom's wide open window. His dirty clothes lay in the middle of the bedroom floor. Even before he checked, he could see there was nothing in the pants pocket. Leaning out the window, he heard the faint sound of angelwings beating above the anyfruit tree.

He pulled on some clean clothes and ran down to the kitchen. Lora, Geneva, Ida, and Gibby were sitting at the table, and the dogs were outside chowing down from a big bowl.

“Hi, Frek,” said Lora, smiling broadly at the sight of her son. “Our hero! I found some giant raspberries on the anyfruit tree, dear. They'll be yummy with this toasted grobread.”

“Where's Renata?” demanded Frek. “Did she fly away?”

“Maybe,” said Geneva, glancing out the window. “I don't see her wings on the lawn anymore.” She turned to Frek and giggled. “We thought she was still upstairs with you. Renata has a goggy crush on Roarboy. L - O - V - E.”

“Love?” spat Frek. “She stole my elixir!” He knew he should act calm for the sake of the eyes in the walls, but he just wasn't able to. He'd traveled to the center of the galaxy, fought with aliens, sacrificed his father, and bounced off the very rim of the universe—only to have the prize picked from his pocket by the girl he'd almost thought he loved.

“Calm down and eat,” said Lora sternly. “Act normal.”

“No use!” yelled Frek. “Yessica and Renata are gonna sic the counselors on me again, I know it. Come on, Gibby, let's get out of here before it's too late! Let me use your angelwings, Mom!”

Gibby quickly hand-walked over to the kitchen door. Out in the yard, Wow was standing by the abandoned counselor hut barking at the sky. “Oh, Salla,” murmured Gibby, peering out and cocking his head.

“What is it?” said Frek.

“I hear them geevin' lifter beetles,” said Gibby and sighed, pulling down his hat. “It's too late for us to try to fly. We gotta run for it, Frek. Take us down the back alleys to the river. If we can luck out that far, I'll get us home. I know the riverbanks real good.”

“Not again!” wailed Lora. “I can't stand this!”

“We're going to win, Mom,” said Frek. Suddenly he felt a deep confidence. He could make weapons by kenny crafting, and even if he couldn't keep the mind worms from spying on him, he had the sky-air-comb autopoiesis to keep them from having too much control. The Orpolese were on his side, and maybe the Magic Pig. “The revolution begins now.” He glanced over at the house tree wall. “You hear me, Gov? Your days are over.”

When Frek and Gibby stepped out onto the front lawn, they saw lifter beetles coming from every direction. A half dozen of them, carrying counselors with webguns at the ready.

“Craft a blaster,” urged Gibby. “Blow them away.”

“I—I'm not sure I should,” said Frek, suddenly doubting himself. “They're humans.”

“Make a blaster!” insisted Gibby. “It's the only way!”

So in the midst of all the confusion, Frek focused on the empty space between his hands, did his best to merge with the emptiness, and tried to vaar some dark matter into a ball of kenner. But nothing was happening, and before he could try again, here came gurpy Zhak and PhiPhi, sprinting across the lawn, Zhak holding a crimson uvvy that looked even more sinister than the yellow peeker uvvy he'd had before.

Frek wanted to run the other way, but two more counselors were coming across that side of the yard, and when he turned back toward the house tree, yet another pair of counselors burst out the front door, carrying jo nets. Wow and Woo were mixing into things as well, barking and snapping. Frek's legs got all tangled up, he tripped over Gibby, and—

Splat.

The sticky jo nets wrapped Frek and Gibby into a single bundle. PhiPhi and Zhak were leaning over Frek once again, the two of them wearing Gov's uvvies on their necks. As before, they were dressed in powder blue overalls.

“Welcome back the space voyager,” said PhiPhi. “Big week for small boy. Gov yes saved the memory of you shooting him in case you wondering. And Yessica tell us lots of things.”

Wow and Woo seemed ready to bite her—but she produced an electric eel and gave Wow a shock that sent him yelping away, with Woo following after.

“I put the ooey in Frek now?” said Zhak, hefting the crimson uvvy. It was isolated in a transparent membrane or bag, presumably to keep it from fastening onto Zhak himself. The ooey must have been able to smell through the bag, for when Zhak held it near Frek, the blood-colored glob began twitching like a hungry leech. Its surface was covered with soft, hair-fine tendrils that writhed against the membranous sack. Frek was sure the ooey would be capable of filtering itself right through his skin. Teasingly, Zhak toyed with the seal at the top of its bag.

“Hold on,” said PhiPhi. “We ask Frek things first. Ooey not well tested, still having wetware problems. We counselors not wearing them yet, you notice, Frek. And since your brain maybe having some peeker damage from last week, is chance ooey can malfunction in you. So we debrief him first, Zhak.”

There was a burst of cursing from Gibby, who chose this moment to make a last-ditch effort to tear off their jo nets. But in the end, the nets held them only the tighter. Nevertheless, the sound of Gibby's voice reminded Frek that he wasn't helpless.

Frek focused on the space between his hands, which were bunched against his chest right below his chin. He shut out PhiPhi's pushy voice, the tension of the rubbery net, the rough feel of Gibby's tail against his shoulder, the cries of the other counselors, the sound of Lora yelling from the house, and the sweet smell of the spring morning breeze. Everything was different, everything was the same.

Frek stared at the space between his hands until he saw it shimmer. Breathing evenly, he vaared the dark matter into a nicely striped ball of kenner, nestled between his palms. This was half the battle. The only thing was, the kenner felt a little funny. Instead of passively waiting for him to vaar it into shape, it was twitching, as if it were trying to crawl off.

“Won't answer?” PhiPhi was saying in an sharp tone. She'd been talking all this time, and Frek hadn't heard any of it. She was angry at being ignored. “Come, Zhak,” snapped PhiPhi. “We load them into lifter beetle and debrief on way to Stun City. Taking off kid gloves.”

“Drop Grulloo splat on ground,” chuckled Zhak. “Scare Frek to talk.”

“Snap out of it, Frek!” cried Gibby, thrashing so hard that the whole world seemed to shake. “Get somethin' happenin', boy!”

While Zhak, PhiPhi, and another counselor were roughly bundling Frek and Gibby into the cargo basket of PhiPhi's shiny teal lifter beetle, Frek kept his attention upon the little ball of kenner between his hands. He had to press his palms together to keep the willful kenner from wriggling away. Feeling around in his mind, he found the ruby-crystal blaster specs that he'd used on Unipusk. He pushed the spidery diagrams out to make a shell around the borders of his mind. And in the center was the ball of kenner.

Lora loomed up to one side. “Frek! Are you okay?”

Merged with his crafting process, Frek couldn't pause to answer. This was it. He let his carefully arranged images of the blaster descend upon the shuddering ball of kenner. And it turned into—something more like a crippled rat than like a blaster. Something very much like a rat. The malformed kenner-rat bit into the ball of Frek's thumb, drawing blood. And then it squeaked and limped across his chest, slipping down to land on Gibby's face. Gibby bellowed, and the kenner-rat leaped into the air—where it disintegrated back into invisible dark matter.

Meanwhile the lifter beetle rose up, leaving Frek's family behind. Frek caught a last glimpse of Lora, Geneva, Ida, and the two dogs sadly staring up at them. He pressed his hands together, stanching the trickle of blood. He was remembering the last words Gawrnier had said to him about kenny crafting: “Never work with kenner that tries to fight your will.”

“Where's the geevin' blaster, Frek?” muttered Gibby.

“It's not gonna happen,” answered Frek. “I can't craft kenner here.”

“Talking now?” said PhiPhi, whirling around in her seat to glare at him. “Answer my question, or Zhak throwing ugly Grulloo buddy overboard.”

“What question?” said Frek. “I didn't hear.”

“Not play dumb,” cried PhiPhi. She snatched a short brown eel out of her pouch and reached back with it to tap Frek on the neck. A terrible electric shock traveled through Frek's chest and down his spine, driving an odd, involuntary chirp from his mouth. His muscles spasmed and went limp.

“Answer question,” repeated PhiPhi.

“I really didn't hear you before,” said Frek, hating how frightened he felt. “Say it again.”

“Throw out Grulloo now?” said Zhak, who'd turned around in his seat as well. They were hovering some five hundred meters above the ground, outside of Middleville on the way to Stun City.

“Please tell him the question again,” begged Gibby. “He surely wants to answer!”

“Okay, you listen good,” said PhiPhi. “Yessica say aliens watching us like toons. Yessica say aliens can change what we do. Yessica say Frek is representing humanity for this deal. Gov want Frek tell aliens to make Gov strong. Will Frek do?”

“Sure,” said Frek, with a bit of a sneer. “Anything you say.”

“Not enough,” said PhiPhi sharply. “Tell more.” She scowled and leaned toward him with the electric eel. The kritter had tiny red eyes, blank as two glass beads.

“They call it the humanity channel,” said Frek, talking fast. “These branecasters from another dimension are broadcasting our thoughts. And some sunspot aliens from the galactic core are our, like, sponsors. The Orpolese. I picked them instead of these uptight other aliens called Unipuskers. When the Orpolese fully launch the show, the individual Orpolese subscribers will be able to affect what people on Earth do. I'm not sure how that's gonna come down. We'll be like toons in a game played by Orpolese aliens. I'd really like to try and—”

“Now we get somewhere,” interrupted PhiPhi. “You saying like Yessica. She say if Orpolese not helping Gov, we can kill you and Yessica talk to branecasters and let Unipuskers run humanity channel instead. Yessica say Unipuskers is better bet for Gov.”

“Oh, you can trust me to make the switch if you like,” said Frek quickly. “Yessica's a grinskin. You don't want to work with her.”

“But we not trusting you,” said PhiPhi. “Not yet, anyhow.” She winked at Zhak. “Give Frek his ooey. Remember, Zhak, the ooey must crawl in through left eye socket to stick on left half of brain. Not right side. This side.” PhiPhi tapped one of her angular cheekbones.