The Garbage Chronicles (32 page)

Now Abercrombie built formations of towering, anvil-topped clouds around the sides of the comet. Bolts of lightning lanced into the comet. Thunder roared across the sky. Abercrombie attacked until he felt fatigue. Again, this did not faze the comet.

It must have a weakness,
the frustrated planet thought.
But what could it be?

Lord Abercrombie considered letting loose a torrential downpour on the comet. But he felt rock weary, and the thought of such an attack seemed ludicrous to him. The fireball was so immense that only part of it was in the planet’s atmosphere; much of it extended into deep space.

Just before the appearance of the comet, Prince Pineapple insisted on another recharge. The charge he had received earlier that afternoon had been short because of all the excitement generated by Rebo. It needed augmentation, and he selected a spot along the trail at the base of the white cliff.

Prince Pineapple closed his eyes and went into a trance during his recharge, as he was wont to do. It was at the height of this ecstasy that the Great Comet appeared in the sky over this side of the planet.

When the sky flashed orange, Javik and the Moravians covered their eyes and dove for the ground. Namaba cried out that the sky was on fire.

“I don’t think so,” Javik said, unable to look. “My guess is that it’s a comet or a big meteor. And it’s awfully close.”

They heard the pounding of thunder in the distance and wondered if this was the end for them.

Lord Abercrombie wanted the minerals, gases, and other materials in the comet. With them he would be infinitely larger, infinitely more powerful. A force to be respected in the universe.

I must move out of orbit,
he thought,
if I’m going to make any sort of a showing in battle. Why isn’t the comet attacking? Is it teasing me?

Lord Abercrombie tried to move his planet out of oibit. “Uuumph!” he grunted.

Cork did not budge.

Now that would really be something,
he thought.
To move around wherever I want, whenever I want.

The thought of this so appealed to him that he tried again. Over and over he tried. But Lord Abercrombie did not budge one centimeter out of orbit.

Maybe I just need to try a little harder,
he thought.

So he concentrated every bit of energy he had. The nutrients on Cork’s surface began flowing to his core as Lord Aber-crombie called upon diem for support.

These nutrients are mine,
he thought.
No more sharing them with fleas on my surface!

Sidney the comet focused his attention on the meadow of scarlet flowers. He saw Javik covering his eyes and prone on the ground at the other end of the meadow, at the base of the white cliff.

My lifelong friend,
Sidney thought.
May good fortune grace your steps.

It troubled Sidney that Javik would have to die comparatively soon, limited as he was by the frailties of flesh. Sidney wished he could offer Javik the longer life of a comet or perhaps a small star so that they might spend more time together.

But it was only a passing thought, one of those space dreams that magical comets are known to have. Sidney looked back down at Bottomless Bog.

Lord Abercrombie felt the nutrients of living forms surge into his core. He was absorbing entire flowers, small trees, and shrubs, along with many Fruits and Vegetables who were recharging at that moment. Many of the hardier flowers on the planet held out against his gluttony, as did most of the large plants.

With one foot in the ground, Prince Pineapple was at the height of his recharge. It was that euphoric point where all the juices from the soil flowed at full force through his pineapple veins. With his eyes closed, he leaned back on both elbows and savored the moment.

Then he screamed. “Eeeeah! Eeeeah!” The skin on his exposed foot stretched nearly to the breaking point. Something powerful was pulling at it! He tried to open his eyes, but a blinding fire across the sky prevented it.

“Help!” Prince Pineapple shouted. “For God’s sake, hurry!”

Javik followed the sound and crawled to Prince Pineapple’s side. “What’s wrong?” Javik asked. Shielding his eyes, he squinted to look at the prince. A cluster of flowers within Javik’s narrow range of vision disappeared into the ground with a loud
fwwwp-pop
suction noise. He heard the pops of suction all around and saw the ground color lighten.

Prince Pineapple did not respond. He was unconscious. But his bare foot was moving sporadically, jerking like a bodily limb consumed with the throes of death.

I’ve got to get him out of there,
Javik thought.

Flowers were disappearing beneath the surface at a furious pace now, leaving all the ground that Javik could see denuded.

Javik pulled on Prince Pineapple’s arms. Then he realized that his hands were stuck to the prince. He could not pull them free and could not get Prince Pineapple out of the hole.

“It’s got me too!” Javik yelled. “Knock me away, somebody! Use that survival pack I left on the rock!”

Since Namaba was closest, she felt with her eyes closed until she found the pack. Then she felt Rebo’s firm grip on her arm.

“This is my duty,” Rebo said. He took the pack and crawled rapidly over to Javik. Keeping his eyes closed, he swung the pack until it struck Javik.

“Harder!” Javik screamed.

Rebo gave the survival pack a mighty swing, knocking Javik free. Prince Pineapple remained stuck to Javik, so he too was knocked away from the hole.

“It’s . . . the end of the world,” Prince Pineapple said, rolling on the ground and moaning. He was short of breath.

“I think we’re okay,” Javik said, catching his breath. “If that’s the comet, it’s probably over the bog where Wizzy was lost.”

They spoke without opening their eyes, like people in a dark room.

“You mean it’s Wizzy’s dad?” Namaba asked. She squeezed Javik’s hand.

“That’s what I’m thinkin’,” Javik said.

“I was almost recharged,” Prince Pineapple said after a while, beginning to breathe regularly. “Something started pulling on my foot… sucking on it. I might have been pulled underground.”

“We’re even now, Rebo,” Javik said. “You’re no longer indebted to me.”

“My obligation did not end when I saved you,” Rebo said. “That is not our way. It is a lifelong thing.”

A furious rhythm came from the meadow now, drowning out all conversation.

Fwwwp-pop!

Fwwwp-fwwwp-pop!

Fwwwpop-da-dee-pop!

Fwwwp-pop-ditty-pop-ditty-pop-pop-pop!

In the next instant, the ground rumbled. Then everything fell silent. The sucking sounds stopped, and there seemed to be no life in the vicinity other than their own.

Lord Abercrombie exploded out of his immersion hole, bouncing off the rock ceiling of the cavern. Dirt flew everywhere.

His scream echoed through the passageway. “Eeeeah!”

Abercrombie floated back down in slow motion, supported by a parachute of magical air. His naked body was different now. It still was partly magical and partly fleshy. But now it was a mixture, with splotches of skin next to empty spaces . . . a knuckle here . . . a knee there . . . both thighs . . . two hands but only one arm . . . the top of his skull . . .

Gradually, all the fleshy places filled in. When Abercrombie landed, his body was entirely flesh again. In an awakening haze, he tried to crawl back in the hole. But unseen hands pushed him away, gently but firmly.

I’m rejected,
Abercrombie thought.
The Realm of Magic does not want me!

Wearing nothing but his wardrobe ring, he stumbled out of the Soil Immersion Chamber into the labyrinth of passageways. The maze had once been second nature to him. But now he walked aimlessly in wrong directions, tripping and falling often. He scraped his knees, shins, and arms on the hard, rocky ground. The pain made his sensation of rejection even more acute. Only fleshcarriers felt such pain.

Sidney the comet arched heavenward, leaving Cork and all its problems behind. As Sidney left the atmosphere and accelerated in the vacuum of space, he thought about how glad he was to have found his present life. It was a prize far greater than anything offered by Earth’s Bureau of Freeness, an existence never before contemplated by an Earthian.

Sidney remembered wishing for a Bu-Free prize, and now it struck him as funny. Tragically funny. He wanted to tell millions of Earthians how foolish they were to waste, their lives hoping for such things. He thought of the problems on Cork too, and considered interjecting to set things straight.

Then he changed his mind.
I can’t worry about that stuff,
he thought.
One comet can only do so much.

Gracefully, he streaked across the starcloth of space at many times the speed of light.

“It’s gone,” Javik said, opening his eyes. He rose with the others and squinted to look around. The sky was pastel blue, with three Corkian suns just above the horizon. But there was no warmth from the suns. A chill wind blew dust over the desolate expanse that once had been a pristine meadow.

“My God!” Namaba exclaimed. “Every flower is gone!”

Javik shivered, despite having on the vari-temp coat. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “There’s death in the air.”

The trail at the base of the cliff ran alongside the denuded meadow for a short distance. Occasional broken flower petals, leaves, and stems on the ground were reminders of what once had been. The three-dot markings were clear along the shale cliff here, and appeared more frequently than before—as if to reassure them that they were going in the right direction.

Walking ahead of the others, Javik harbored deep doubts. Even with the certainty of the markings, he was not at all convinced that this was where they should be. And as he glanced back at Namaba, Rebo, and the prince, he saw it on their faces too: wide-eyed expressions mirroring his own fear.

They skirted a sizable pile of loose rocks which had fallen across the path. Nervously, Javik looked up at the white cliff before returning to its base. The broken pieces of shale showed evidence of having fallen recently, with flat, unweathered surfaces.

After they had gone a little farther, Javik thought he heard low, chanting voices. He stopped and raised his hand. “Listen!” he said.

The others stood still. The only sound was a rattle from Prince Pineapple’s bag of garbage.

“Shhh!” Javik said.

Somewhere a rock tumbled down the face of the cliff. Javik’s gaze darted in all directions. “I don’t hear it now,” he said.

“Maybe it’s the wind,” Namaba suggested, “whistling over the rocks.”

“Yeah,” Javik said.

The trail rose up an embankment now, leading them to a high area which was not all that wide. Down a steep incline to their left a deep blue lake began to emerge beneath a curved section of trail. The lake sparkled in the late afternoon suns as if fine jewels had been encrusted just below its surface.

“I christen thee Jewel Lake,” Javik announced. He made the sign of the cross, touching his forehead, shoulders, and chest.

“It gets narrower,” Prince Pineapple said, pointing ahead.

The incline falling off to Jewel Lake became a sheer dropoff less than a kilometer uptrail, leaving them only a narrow trail. Above and to the right a stark white cliff looked out uncaringly.

That’s a long way down,
Javik thought.

When they reached the beginning of the narrow trail, Prince Pineapple found three black dots on the side of the cliff. There could be no doubt. Ahead the trail wound around a jutting portion of cliff. Javik heard low, chanting voices again, louder this time and unmistakable—voices that seemed to come from somewhere uptrail, or perhaps overhead. He craned his neck to look up, but saw only clouds moving against the sky along the top of the cliff.

“I hear it now,” Namaba said. “Deep voices.”

“Magicians,” Prince Pineapple said. “Or their spirits.”

“The wind, more likely,” Javik said. He sighed and faced the precipitous trail. “Good sense tells me to camp here for the night. We’re losing daylight and there’s a flat spot back a ways.. .just wide enough for the tent. But I want to get away from this place.”

The others agreed. As they started out with Javik in front, Javik heard Prince Pineapple reminding everyone to avoid rhymes.
I ought to wait for the worst dropoff and really lay one on him,
Javik thought.
Wonder if he’d hit the lake on the fly.

“I know some good rhymes,” Javik said. “Do you prefer Mother Goose or dirty limericks?”

“Neither!” Prince Pineapple squealed, plugging his ears with his stubby fingers. In his excitement, he dropped the bag containing his possessions. It clattered over the edge, gone forever. “Now see what you made me do!” he wailed.

“I’m sorry” Javik said. “I didn’t mean to do that. Maybe we’ll find another cannister ahead. Millions of them were catapulted.”

“That was a particularly nice selection,” the prince gruffed.

“Better the bag than you,” Javik said.

Javik turned his attention to the trail. Footing was becoming more treacherous, with many loose pieces of shale. The wind-chant grew louder as they rounded a bend. Then, inexplicably, the noise died out. The lake had narrowed to no more than the width of a river below them, with portions of it in shade as the suns dropped.

“It’s too quiet,” Namaba said.

“I see the pass,” Javik said. His voice was an excited whisper.

A split in the white cliff was clearly visible only a few kilometers uptrail. With blackened areas on each side of the divide, it appeared to have been cut out of the white shale by a bolt of lightning.

“We’d better pick up our pace,” Javik said. “I don’t want to be on this trail after dark,” He began to quick-step.

“And the Moha?” Prince Pineapple said. “The monster of legend? You would rather share an evening with that?”

“My service automatic packs a hell of a wallop,” Javik said. “It’s a baby cannon.”

“Maybe we should turn back,” Namaba said. “It seems more sensible to face this Moha in the daylight.”

“What does your yenta say?” Javik asked, slowing to a walk.