Spaceland (24 page)

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Authors: Rudy Rucker

BOOK: Spaceland
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I woke early, and wondered at having a woman in bed with me again, enjoying the bone-deep comfort of having a fellow human to cozy up to, a pleasure even deeper than sex. It's a mammal thing; we're meant to sleep with partners. Tulip shifted against me, with her dark hair fanned across her pillow. She was still asleep, dreaming, her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. She was naked except for a chain around her neck with a little gold cross. Delicious.
I'd slept with Tulip, the Mophone was a success, and I didn't have much work to do today. Just a little hand-off meeting with some guys from MeYou; they were coming over this afternoon. It was rainy and windy outside, the kind of weather they called a “storm” in California. In any other state they would have called it a gusty spring rain. The raindrops pattered against my bedroom window. It was cozy in here. Everything was perfect. Well, not quite. Physically I didn't feel too good.
The problem was that I'd neglected to eat any grolly the night before, and now I was jonesin' for it. I had a trembly, leafy feeling, kind of like I used to get when I'd exercise a lot in the morning
without eating breakfast or lunch. I hadn't had time to exercise vet this whole new year, by the way.
I watched Tulip for a minute. Her eyes had stopped moving beneath her lids. She was quite deeply asleep. I tried to stop myself, but before long, I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger and stuck my hand up in the air. Sure enough Momo was nearby. A glob of her appeared over me, a crooked head with a hand sticking out of its temple, the hand holding a little doughnut of golly. It dropped gently onto the blanker over my stomach. I picked it up and nibbled. Ah. As always, I promised myself I'd kick the stuff tomorrow. Momo smiled knowingly at me. She knew better than to make noise and wake up Tulip. Now everything really was perfect.
And that's when things went crazy.
A big red devil shape appeared next to my futon, a Wackle. Momo shifted her shape, bringing a section of her hyperbazooka into visibility. All this still in silence, like a dream.
But now it got loud, way loud. Three more Wackles appeared on the other side of Momo and let out a battle cry. An ambush! The Wackles, sprang at Momo like tigers; they clawed at her; they pried the hyperbazooka from her hands; their voices were a stuttering roar. The weapon went tumbling across my room, and still another hellowing Wackle arrived to catch it. The first four Wackles had tight hold of Momo, they were dragging more and mote of het into the room with us. The fifth Wackle raised the hyperbazooka and aimed. Their yells kept starting and stopping as their writhing mouths moved in and out of our space. It was like listening to a fight over a cell phone with a gappy signal.
“Joe!” screamed Tulip. She was bolt upright, squeezed back into the corner where my futon met the wall, the sheet pulled across her breasts. “Make it stop, Joe!”
“Look out,” I yelled. “Gonna flash.” I lunged at her and got my hand over her eyes.
And right then the fifth Wackle fired the hyperbazooka. I closed my eyes just in time to block out the insane, bright-beyond-ultraviolet blast. It was brilliant orange through my eyelids. Out in hyperspace the pulse dazzled my third eye. I heard the wet sound of Momo coming apart, the hoots of triumph from the Wackles.
“Help me God!” screamed Tulip and twisted away. “Help me! He's possessed!” When I reached towards her, she actually held up her little cross.
I tried to calm her, but she was off the futon and backing away. Bloody pieces of Momo were bouncing around the room, flexing and changing their shapes with the four-dimensional tumbles. The five Wackles had joined hands and were dancing around in a circle, first one way, and then the other, their heads turning inside out. I was kind of relieved to have bossy, menacing Momo out of the picture, but to Tulip none of this looked good.
“Devils dancing widdershins!” she shrieked. “Save me, sweet Mary, dear Mother of God!” She was out of the room in another second. There was a brief clatter next door, and then she was pounding down the front steps naked, carrying her purse, a dress, and a pair of shoes. I watched her with my third eye. Her car peeled out and drove away. So much for my new thing with Tulip.
I should have been bummed out, but with the grolly in me nothing much mattered. I sat there eating the rest of it, enjoying its resilient texture and its peachy chocolate taste, watching the Wackles. It was awesome, seeing five of them together. They fit together like the points of a snowflake, though, yeah, I know snowflakes have six sides. But five made better sense for the Wackles. The old devil and pentagram thing. Maybe people had been seeing Wackles throughout history. From what I knew of them so far, they didn't deserve their bad rap.
“Good luck dead Klupper,” said one of the Wackles, flinging the hyperbazooka and some pieces of Momo vinn towards Dronia. Another Wackle was sticking his head high vout into the Klupper half of the All. “No grolly guards near,” he reported, lowering his mouth back into my room. “Dance with us, Joe. The Wackle war whoop!”
Two of them reached out for me, and now we were a circle of six, prancing around my room. Insanity. My Mophone rang. The Wackles stopped and stared at it. I answered. It was Jena.
“Hi Joe,” she said. “Sorry I got so emotional last night.”
“Nothing new,” I said. “Things are kind of weird here right now, Jena. Can I call you back?”
“How's
Tulip?”
“She left. She thinks I'm evil. Bye.”
“Wait, wait. The reason I called you is that gangster's back in town. Sante? He just called me. He saw about us on TV last night. He says he got fired because of you and your million dollars. He says you owe him a favor.”
“Ask Clement Treed,” I said, irrationally angry at Jena for the bad news. “You got Treed to go to bed with you, right? Tell
him
to pay Sante.”
“Don't be like that,” wailed Jena. “Clement never came in at all last night. I was being a jerk, okay? But listen. Sante said if you won't talk to him, he's gonna talk to
me.”
“Christ,” I said, the rage draining out of me. Poor Jena. “Hold on.”
I looked over at the Wackles. “That million you took from me last month,” I said. “Can I have it back?”
“Where's my sneeze?” said one of them, and the others laughed.
“Yesterday's gone,” added another
.
“Why did you steal it?” I asked despairingly.
“To kill your phone in its cradle,” said another. “Too late now. Ringing in what change is the today question.”
The first Wackle was moving his head in and out of our space as he watched my Mophone. “Little piece of light so what?” he nused. “Peeping chicken.”
A big curved piece of metal came drifting through the room. One of the Wackles grabbed hold of it, steadying it. The cross-sections grew round and full, as big as my futon. It was Momo's flying saucer. Jena's voice was quacking from the Mophone. I put it back to my ear.
“I really have to go,” I told Jena. “But don't let Sante get you. Get out of the house right away.”
“Should I come over?” Her voice was small. “Who's there with you?”
“Wackles from the fourth dimension. Don't come just yet, it's already too nuts. Maybe in an hour. But get out of the house right now. Hurry. Get some breakfast and then, yeah, come here. It'll be safe. If Sante comes here. I'll do him like I did Spazz. Except this time I won't stop.”
“Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,”
went the Wackles. Their preaching of nonviolence seemed kind of hypocritical after what I'd just seen them do to Momo.
“You care about me, Joe?” said Jena.
“Yeah,” I said grudgingly. I knew this would lead to something else.
“Can you come get me?” asked Jena then. “You made me leave my car last night.”
“Jena, no. Ride your bike. Or waik.” They didn't have taxis in Los Perros.
“Thanks a lot. It's raining, creep.”
I sighed and hung up. Talking to Jena always brought me down. She knew so well how to push may buttons. A ruthless exercise of her wiles. Was the Sante thing even for real? Hell with it. Enough about Jena for now. What was more interesting was that I had five
hyperdimensional aliens and a Hying saucer in my bedroom. I had a sudden brilliant thought.
“Let me keep the flying saucer,” I proposed. What a thing to have!
“Pluperfect proof of Memo's massacree,” said one of the Wackles. “A tasty cowflop for the horsefly Kluppers. Buzz they'll come and sting. Hide it fast, Joe.”
“Park it in Dronia,” said another Wackle. “Beneath notice.”
“Joe's garage!” said a third. “Tether it with smeel of me!” He tugged at his body, pulling out a long strand of pinky-red flesh like bubblegum. He snapped the strand free with a hollered “Ouch,” then looped one end of it through a hole in the rim of the saucer.
“Vinnwards!” yelled the Wackle, and disappeared, dragging the saucer after them—or trying to. The strand of Wackle flesh simply stretched and stretched, and the saucer moved nowhere. The Wackles reappeared, and this time took hold of the saucer. I peeled myself vinn and followed along.
It had been weeks since I'd been out in the All; it was as amazing as ever. The air of Dronia was thick and sparkly clear. I rolled over to look vout towards Spaceland. The little bit of perspective my eyestalk gave me from inside Spaceland was nothing compared to how things looked from out here. Everything visible from every side at once, not under me, not beside me—but voutwards. It was beautiful to know how well our world fit together.
“Flubba geep,” said one of the Wackles. I had the feeling they sometimes made noises just for the fun of it, not meaning anything in particular. “Foo da boo for you.” He'd found a proper, non-stretchy, four-dimensional rope coiled up inside Momo's saucer, and now we used that to tie the craft to a rafter in my sealed-up garage. The saucer hung there in hyperspace, twenty feet away from Spaceland.
“Thanks, boys,” I said. “I'm going to enjoy having this thing.
Maybe I can use it to get grolly. Is there grolly on your cliffs?” I glanced over at the great, teeming wall of Dronia, that endless reef. From certain angles I could see threadlike lines leading out to my new friends.
“Klupper slave food,” said one of them, sternly. “Absolutely not. Grolly versus Wackle. Plantimal war. We want grolly space, grolly want Wackle space. You should kick it.”
The thought of truly giving up grolly made me uneasy. “I need t for my augmented body,” I protested.
“No,” said the biggest Wackle. “Any hyperfood will do. I say! Eat smeel! Eat me! Goo for you!” He pulled a piece of his flesh loose, formed it into a little hypersphere, and handed it to me.
“Smeel?” I said. “That's what you call your flesh?” I sniffed it. It smelled like musky tofu. I took a little bite; it was slippery in my mouth, tasting of salt and fungus. I spit it out, though some of it had already coated my tongue. The little ball of wackle flesh twitched out of my grasp, hopped onto my left shoulder, grew a mouth, and bit me, drawing blood. I caught hold of it and threw it as hard as I could at the big cackling Wackle; it merged right back into him.
“You eat me and I eat you,” said the Wackle. “Very fine.”
“I'd rather eat plants,” I said, trying to stay calm, dabbing at the little cut on my shoulder, telling myself it was really nothing much, just a weird Wackle joke. “Grolly's a plant.”
“
I'm
a plant,” said the Wackle. “Look far to see my giant beanstalk.”
“Not plant,” put in another Wackle. “Animal.”
“Plantimal,” said the first, and they left it at that.
I moved my third eye vinn and vout. Yes, as I'd noticed before, there were long smeel strands leading from the Wackles to giant anemones on the cliffs of Dronia. So far as I knew, an anemone was an animal that stayed in one place like a plant. There were
some other things by the Dronners' cliffs that most definitely weren't plants. Shimmering things that darted about like fish.
I wondered what it was like in Dronia. With Momo gone, I was free to go there if I wanted. It was hard to believe the Wackles had really killed her. What were the other Kluppers going to do when they found out? The soldiers probably wouldn't care, but Momo's family—that would be another story. If they came looking for her and saw I was missing from Spaceland they'd suspect me.
It was time to go home and lie low. Eat something, talk to Jena, see about Sante, talk to the people from MeYou, like that. Lie low—what a laugh. As if there were any way of hiding when four-dimensional eyes could watch my every move. The trick was to play dumb and act normal. Keep on just as before. Hopefully we wouldn't run out of antenna crystals before the IPO. As far as I knew we still had about twenty thousand of them that Momo had brought last week. Which reminded me of the big question that had been nagging me for weeks—what was the real reason for the Mophones?

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