Cloud Riders (24 page)

"Like that's important, Sis?” Paul watched the shifting ice hut, frowned, and had no choice but to wonder what it had to do with saving the solar system.

Reshape evolved into an oriental rug of the appropriate size to catch a Paul Winsome. “Step aboard, young Paul,” the carpet said.

"You're kidding,” Paul said, looking at the thin mat. “Make yourself larger, Reshape. Big enough for both Vicki and me to ride on."

"Only you have the right destiny to take this ride,” the red carpet said. It changed its pattern to gold and yellow stripes. “Not to worry, I will not drop you."

"This is my imagined-reality, but I don't seem to get much to say about what happens. I didn't dream up that rocket or this dancing igloo."

"Paulie, I can stay here. It's okay,” Vicki assured. “We'll stay close."

"She speaks the truth. Boss."

"May we get on with the show?” Carpet Reshape said and laughed in a strange unfamiliar sound that apparently only carpets know.

Paul pulled his left leg over Satin's back and sat sideways, hesitated, took a deep breath and a wide step onto the carpet and immediately sat down. The carpet wasn't as soft like Satin's back.

Reshape flew next to the huge ice hut, attempting to keep pace with its shift. The carpet wrinkled and bucked Paul off in the direction of the door.

Paul caught his breath as he fell short. He kicked in panic, trying to run on air, and curled his body. Then what he should have thought of in the beginning came to him. He pictured himself safely landing on the flying carpet below him. The rug felt secure as Paul landed. The incident took less than two seconds. “Thanks, Reshape. Needed that."

"You do realize how far down the Earth's surface is?” asked Reshape.

Paul thought the carpet mocked him. “Maken Fairchild didn't get me to ride a cloud carpet only to dump me back into my Earth reality.” He looked over to Vicki and waved.

She waved back, smiling broadly, obviously happy about being included.

"Besides, I have the solar system to save,” Paul said in a voice he hoped sounded proud. “Okay. How and why do we get into the hut, carpet?” Paul asked. The ice structure hopped past him as if on cue. His jaw set, and he purposely limited his thoughts to one task, landing on the narrow ice ledge at the door's base.

"You have to enter the hut to see if it can help you to save the solar system,” Reshape instructed. “Perhaps it might redirect a rocket by ducking itself, or something of that nature. You will know when you need to know. That is why you were chosen. That is why you will simply knock on the door, and take it from there."

The carpet flew next to the ice door and waited for it to relocate. As the hut settled, Paul leapt to the narrow door ledge. He felt blissfully happy about his thin body. The surface area on the ice ledge measured about the length of his leather gym shoes.

Paul knocked, but the ice deadened the sound. It seemed silly to go to all the trouble to build this hopping hut and not install a doorbell.

"Look out!” Vicki warned.

A black object hurtled toward them at missile velocity.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Instinctively, Paul covered his head with his arm to ward off the black object hurtling toward him. The moment he saw Reshape expand in width and length, becoming an oval landing-target rug, he lowered his guard.

Reshape the throw-rug added blinking red stripes to its colors. First the red, then the yellow alternated their winking.

"Isno!” Paul and Vicki greeted in unison.

With outstretched paws and yawls of warning, Isno Gravity hurtled onto the center of the rug. With the skill of an accomplished athlete, his cat legs performed their shock absorber duty on impact. His underbelly briefly touched the rug before he sprang to a standing position. He turned toward Paul, who hugged the outer door of the Ice Hut. “Leap no I. Throw me bad ape big."

The rug's red stripes ceased to blink their landing-light assignment. Once again it became a flying carpet, shrinking in size and becoming oblong.

Isno looked back in the direction from which he came and hissed, his tail high as if brandishing a threatening sword. His back hunched, hairs stood at military attention, demonstrating his disdain for his nemesis, the oversized gorilla Claude Nab. “Carpet nice.” He purred, settled down and stared at Paul, his head cocked in a what-are-you-doing expression.

"Good to see you, buddy. I'm going inside this ice building soon as I can get someone to open the door."

"Me rug like."

"Have you seen Fawn?” Paul asked. “Is she all right?"

"See no."

"Vicki is waving at you,” Paul said.

Isno raised a front paw toward Vicki and purred. “Vicki like."

Two ice rod legs raised the hut. Paul pressed hard against the door to keep from being tossed off his perch. The hut moved sideways several yards, its ice legs withdrew and the building settled onto the cloud surface.

Paul concentrated on keeping his balance as carpet Reshape sped Isno to the hut's new location.

"Isno, so glad to see you!” Vicki called from Satin. “Paul is trying to get someone to open the door and let him in. Claude Nab brought me here to let Paul save me again."

"Isno Nab throw,” Isno explained. “Carry he you. Throw me he. Mean he."

"How did you find us once Claude tossed you, Isno?” Vicki asked. “Why didn't he just deliver you like he did me?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I may have a guidance system unequaled in feline history?” The voice came from the carpet.

Isno raised a paw. “Speak no me."

"Isno, what have you been up to?” Paul asked. “Vicki and I went back to Earth.” He hesitated. “Well... fell. You went flying off in the storm wind.” Paul shifted his legs a little so they wouldn't cramp. “I...we've been worried about you."

"Hop cloud hop.” Isno sounded frustrated. “Huff find no."

"Huff's gone, Isno,” Paul said. “The carpet you're on is Reshape and Vicki over there is riding on Satin, son of Silk.” Paul wrinkled his brow. “Tough about Huff. Jump over here with me. We can get into this place together.” Paul motioned Isno to the narrow ledge beside him. “It all has something to do with me saving the solar system."

Isno gave Paul a you're-kidding-but-okay look, blinked, hunched, aimed, and leaped. His torso twisted sideways as he flew. The practice of many fence-railing destinations served him well, Isno precisely landing beside Paul on the narrow ice door ledge. His feet slipped and the cat scrambled to keep from flying off into space. “Human my door open?"

"Great jump, Isno. It's strange that your feet slip and mine don't, old boy. Guess maybe you're in at least one of your imagined-lives, right?” He turned to the door and shoved with as much strength as he dared, cognizant of the fact he could push himself off the ledge. Glancing at Reshape holding his carpet form, he felt increased daring, and shoved with every bit of his strength, demanding, “Open up in there!"

"You may enter, if you must,” a high-pitched, impatient voice came through the ice slab door. The nasal voice pleaded, “Hurry up!"

Paul pushed on the right side of the ice slab.

"In the middle. Boss."

"Like, you could've mentioned that earlier, Satin,” Paul grumbled. “You keep telling me I'm the boss, while your actions tell me you are."

"You have to ask. Boss. I did not foresee you could not open a door. Forgive me. Boss."

"Won't the door open?” Vicki asked.

"Don't know. I was listening to Satin giving directions."

"Don't make him mad, Paulie. He might drop me,” Vicki cautioned.

"I will not drop sister, Vicki, person. Boss. No matter what you think of me, I am a good cloud. Boss."

"Yeah.” Paul shifted his hands to the center of the door and shoved. The ice partition scraped inward the thickness of the building's walls and rose up toward the ceiling with a whoosh. Paul and Isno half fell, half jumped inside.

"I want to come too,” Vicki called. “Reshape, come here and give me a ride on your carpet."

Paul pushed his hands over his head against the door bottom and held the ice slab from coming back down. He concentrated on a picture of Vicki's safe relocation.

The door shivered and pushed against his hands, demonstrating it didn't like being held up. It slipped from Paul's hands and closed with an ice smash.

"Sis, I'm sorry!” Paul shouted, hoping his voice would go through the thick ice. He shut his eyes and wished with all his might that Vicki would be all right on the carpet and tried to shrug off the disappointment about her not making it on her first try. The hut rose and moved sideways and Paul fell backward. He looked up and marveled at the room's greenish radiance coming from banks of instrument panels. It seemed a gentle color, welcoming, the opposite of the harsh green of Kid Badd's destructive blasts.

"May I come in?” Vicki's muffled voice filtered through the ice.

"Yes, yes. Hurry up! Hurry up!” The ice slab slid upward once again as the nasal voice warned, “The barrier closes upon each hut relocation dodge! Will you hurry!” the irritated voice called out.

Vicki jumped from Satin onto Reshape the carpet and dived into the interior. The door slid down with a crunch of ice. She skidded to the corner Paul and Isno occupied.

"Human my Isno leap do.” He purred.

The door pushed outward to lock. The hut rose and moved like a ship at sea as it proceeded sideways. Settling downward, it ceased its shifting motion.

"How did you get in?” Paul wondered how Vicki managed to get the door to open without pushing, when he had been denied on his first try. Maybe the ice hut had fallen in love with her like Claude Nab.

"I had a talk with the carpet... Reshape,” Vicki said. “He told me why we can hear sound up here in the clouds. Imagination is real, he said. No sound waves are needed to produce sound within one's imagination. Paulie, I think I understand so much more than I did before.” She suddenly noticed the room's illumination. “Oh my."

The visitors stared at hundreds of instrument panels, dials, knobs and levers jammed into a room large enough to hold an ice hockey game. Ice girders crisscrossed the domed ceiling.

A man stood several feet from Paul, Vicki and Isno. He had a narrow, bony body, and in place of a mouth a magnificent eight inch nose protruded forward like a colorless cucumber. Across his bleached white forehead six bulging eyes worked independently. One looked at Paul, one at Vicki, one at Isno, two at instrument dials, and one at buttons, levers, and handles. He wore a flight cap similar to the World War Two aviators, leather with flaps hanging down to his shoulders. A metal shield covered his chest like the protective armor of the Middle Ages. Upon the armor, a crest of the Ice Hut with ice rods sticking out at opposing angles resembled a hoop-skirted dancer doing a split.

Paul stared at the man's shoes; white boots that pushed up almost to his knees, where his blue flight suit pant legs tucked in. “Keen Aware, I assume."

"What are you staring at? Well, what? What?” The man spoke through his long nose, probably because he didn't have a mouth. His voice, slightly frenzied and shrill, sounded like his sinuses were full. His words hurried like someone blowing them out their nose.

"Sorry, sir,” Paul said politely, continuing to stare at the albino-skinned man. With such an outstanding nose he hoped Keen Aware's sense of smell wasn't offended by their presence.

"Me too,” Vicki said, looking intently at the talking snout. “Thanks for letting me in."

"Me no, Nose,” Isno cat growled. “Nose bite?"

"No, Isno!” Paul and Vicki said in one voice. “No nose bite."

Keeping three eyes on his visitors, Keen Aware reached toward the largest of the giant machines and pulled a handle on the main console. The hut moved upward and danced to one side, the floor movement causing Paul and Vicki to lose their balance and involuntarily shift their sitting position to a nose-down-bump-the-ice-floor vertical pose. Isno's outstretched paws allowed him to remain standing, though somewhat wobbly.

"You wanted the visit,” Keen Aware's nose said. “Get used to it. Hurry. Hurry. My name is Keen Aware. Get used to it. Hurry up! Hurry up!"

Paul's face became warm and his words became almost automatic. “What are you aware of, Keen?” Paul mocked from the floor. “By the looks of your skin you've been in here too long. By the looks of your nose you must be Pinocchio."

"Paulie, don't,” Vicki begged. “He can't help what he looks like."

"It's not a nose thing, Sis. It's an attitude thing."

The hut settled in its new location. “My assigned name is Keen Aware, and I would ask you to not make fun of it. Okay? Okay? My real name is Proboscis Snooter, which is against the law, Calamity Horrid said when I took over the hut's duties so long ago. All right? All right.” Sucking in a gulp of air through his outstanding nose, his voice distorted. “My job is to warn all clouds when any object is coming through. My hut is designed to dodge anything that comes our way. My assigned name is—"

"Are you keenly aware of Vile Extinction?” Paul couldn't help himself, adding, “Hurry up! Proboscis Snooter."

"Hurry up, what?” Keen Aware readjusted a knob on the lower right instrument panel and again pulled on the large handle. The ice hut rose and dodged in a slightly different direction. “My name is no longer Proboscis Snooter. It's K-e-e-n A-w-a-r-e,” he spelled out. “Keen Aware. Keen Aware."

"Name and assignment?” Paul said. “Hurry up! Hurry up!"

Vicki laughed in a whisper, her hand covering her mouth. “Don't be so mean. This is his room, not ours."

Isno's eyes remained fixated on Keen Aware's nose, seeing it as a fine cat target.

"I asked if you knew about Vile Extinction,” Paul insisted. “I think I'm here to save the solar system.” Paul's tone indicated he spoke to someone who didn't have a great understanding of much of anything; a child hiding in a ridiculous man's body. “I don't mean to be nosy, but I have a keen interest in Vile Extinction and I wanted you to be aware of it."

Vicki glared at her brother. “Why are you being so insulting?"