Here in Dronner space, there were Wackles on every side. Thanks to the parasitic head on my shoulder, I could easily tune in on their conversations. They were talking about the Kluppers, the hole, and about me. About how I had to fly my saucer up to High Dronia to fetch a patch from Drabkâwhoever or whatever he was. The main image of Drabk I could pick up from the Wackles was of some object like a thick, dark wormâa caterpillar?
The tied-up ball of Nothing was an open window to Klupper space. Looking through it, I saw other Wackles still fighting with Voule and the grolly guards. The group of Kluppers were down to only one hyperbazooka now. It seemed as if two more Wackles were arriving to take the place of each one the hyperbazooka blew away. Voule and the guards were getting back into their saucers; they were about to retreat.
As the enemy saucers got underway, big, coffee-colored Voule
noticed the web of ropes we'd woven into the hole in space. He made a commanding gesture, and one of the guards flew his saucer straight at our little cobweb. I made a pushing gesture towards it with my mindâa bit like the way a football fan might wish a rival team's touchdown pass to tumble from the air. My wish had legs. The Wackle head on my shoulder sent it out, and instantly a score of Wackles converged on a spot between the hole and the saucer. The saucer slammed into them, and was trapped by the sticky smeel of their flesh. In moments, the guard had been shredded and his saucer had been tossed over to the Dronian side of the All.
“Full speed,” hollered Voule, and the three silver saucers sped away.
“They'll be back,” warned the head on my shoulder. It didn't speak as oddly as the other Wackles. Maybe it knew English better from being part of me. “Rush to Drabk the Sharak of Okbra and beg him for a patch.”
Suddenly I found it unbearable to have this thing growing on me and talking to me. I reached over, grabbed the head and pulled at it. Its neck stretched like gum, and when I let go, it snapped back to where it had been before. I stretched it again, determined this time to bite the little neck in two, but now a big Wackle intervened, slapping my hands away.
“Two heads are better,” cried the Wackle. “Your pirate parrot!” He started dragging me towards Momo's captured saucer. “Hurry scurry, Cap'n Joe!”
“Hold on,” I said. “You can bring the damn saucer over here for me if you're in such a rush. I have to do something first.” I turned back toward Spaceland. I didn't want to leave Jena trapped in the corner and thinking I was dead. She might do something rash. I caught hold of the tight-stretched ropes inside the ball of Nothing and flapped my body as hard as I could. Yes, I could move it relative to Spaceland. Like scrolling a view. The ball shifted towards the
center of the Coffee Roasting room, swallowing up a strip of floor, a chair and half a table.
While I was moving the ball, I noticed a couple of shiny little crystals floating in its center. Antenna crystals! One from Jena's Mophone and one from mine, which had been in my pants pocket. Everything but the four-dimensional crystals had been melted away by the disappearance of three-dimensional space. That meant there was only one working Mophone still in existence. Spazz's. If only he didn't decide to turn his on again. Another hole like this, and we'd be toast. I definitely had to talk to Jena.
“Hunker down and keep quiet,” I warned my extra head.
And then I lowered myself into the Coffee Roasting. The customers were outside, milling around with more cops and some newly arrived firemen. They were disturbed about the latest motion of the ball. For her part, Jena was eyeing the new space I'd made between the ball and the wall, wondering if it was safe to make a run. She hadn't noticed me yet.
“Jena!” I called, stepping around from behind the big black ball. “You can get out now. Hurry!”
“Sir!” a policewoman shouted at me. She had short curly blonde hair and a middle-American face, plain as a piecrust. She was holding a gun. I was naked, and my left shoulder. was crowned by the bump of a little red devil head.
“Joe!” exclaimed Jena. She darted past the ball and threw herself into my arms. “You saved me! I thought you were dead!”
“Sir!” shouted the mustached cop.
“I have to take off again,” I told Jena. “I'm supposed to find a patch to cover that ball of Nothing. Whatever happens, don't let Spazz use his Mophone. lt's the only one that still works. Call him right now on his regular cell phone and tell him what happened. He'll listen to you. He thinks I've gone nuts. And tell him not to even think about turning the other Mophones back on.”
“Get away from him, ma'am,” ordered a heavyset policeman with extra braid on his shoulders. The head cop. He had a shaved head and a fat wattle at the back of his neck. “He's dangerous.”
“What's that thing on your shoulder?” asked Jena.
“It'sâit's like my parrot,” I said. “I'll get rid of it when I can.”
“I kind of like it,” said Jena. “It's bitchin . I always wanted you to get a tattoo.”
That was nice of her to say. I was glad I'd saved Jena. But I wasn't sure what came next. On the one hand, I still had the feeling that I didn't want to go back to her. On the other hand, Jena was like the Wackle head grown onto my shoulder. Part of my flesh. Did I really truly want to split up?
On a sudden impulse, I kissed Jena good-bye right before peeling myself vinn towards Dronia. It was the first time we'd kissed in two months. Despite all my reservations about Jena, my lips were the very last thing to leave Spaceland. Out there I paused, looking down at her standing there holding her hand to her mouth, remembering the kiss. Why couldn't I ever straighten out my feelings about this woman?
A Wackle pressed up to me, Momo's saucer in tow.
“Drabk now you,” he urged.
“Exactly where is he?” I asked.
“Atop Dronia and beyond. Seek and ye find.”
I looked over at the great shimmering reef of the Dronian wall, with the thousand red Wackle strands tapering back to it. The wall's details changed with each motion of my head.
“Is there a tunnel to the top?”
“None of us Wackles has ever been there,” said the little head on my shoulder. “You'll have to find your own way. I'll watch.” It was a complete parasite, in other words. At least it spoke something like standard English.
I got into the saucer and felt around in the cockpit for the extra
grolly I'd left there. I needed something to calm my nerves. Naturally the grolly was gone.
“We threw it back through Spaceland,” the growth on my shoulder told me. “We didn't want its spores to get loose and start growing on our land. Grolly's bad for you, Joe Cube. It's a Klupper slave drug. You need your true self to meet Drabk the Sharak of Okbra. Truer than true.”
“Great,” I said angrily. “This is just great.” I slammed the saucer control forward and we blasted towards the huge, four-dimensional cliffs.
Drabk
I
drew
closer to the cliffs, at first following along beside the hundreds of red Wackle strands that stretched from there to Los Perros. I could see more clearly than ever that the individual Wackles were tentacles from a group of giant anemones, each of the creatures the size of a village. Off to the side of the red anemones I noticed some big, darting shiny shapes, pointed at either end. I thought of them as hyperfish. They seemed agitated by the approach of my saucer. But I kept on coming. There was, after all, something of a rush. Before long the Kluppers would manage to cut the ropes tying off the hole, and Spaceland would be gone.
I was only a mile or two from the cliffs now. They looked solid up ahead, with no sign of a tunnel. I pushed my saucer's control stick vinnward, hoping to find a passage. My four-dimensional sidestep sent the red Wackle anemones morphing down to nothing. And before long a promising rocky canyon appeared, opening up in the wall like a smile. Schools of hyperfish were hovering down in there, shining with every color of the rainbow. The smaller ones were like streamlined tunas, but the large ones had frilly, undulating fins around the circumference of their bodies and bunches of tentacles
at their mouths. They were like the cuttlefish I'd seen at the Monterey Bay Aquariumâexcept for being four-dimensional and really, really big. I veered towards one of the hypercuttlefish, and the canyon walls morphed with my motions. Suddenly an orange anemone popped into view upon an outcrop nearby. It was even bigger than the Wackle clumps had been.
As soon as the orange anemone sensed my presence, its thick centacles came writhing out towards me. I fumbled at my control stick, but I was too slow. The anemone caught hold of my saucer, the same way that the Wackles had grabbed Voule's craft before.
My saucer wrenched and pitched. I went flying out of my seat and tumbled through the thick, watery, Dronian air. A pair of orange anemone tentacles swooped in and took hold of me on either side.
They weren't exactly Wackles, but like the Wackles, they had mouths set into their ends.
“Flat Klupper pig,” said one of them in a woman's voice. To talk with me, she'd formed a section of her tip into a doughy humanoid shape with a face like a jack-o'-lantern's. Her triangular eyes glowed greenish white. My other orange captor was nothing but a tapering cylinder with a little round toothy hole in her swollen tipâno sign of face at all. She had four hands, all of them clamped to my bod.
“Die now,” said the second tentacle's round mouth, the words a faint, high-pitched hiss.
“I'm a Spacelander,” I cried. “Not a Klupper! I'm trying to save you!”
“It's true,” piped the red Wackle head on my shoulder. “This is Joe Cube. He travels to High Dronia to petition Drabk the Sharak of Okbra!”
“Parasite filth die,” whistled the round-mouthed second tentacle and, faster than it takes to tell it, she bit down and yanked the red Wackle right out of my flesh. It was like having a bad tooth pulled.
A twinge of pain followed by great relief. Oddly enough there was no blood.
“Wackles try spawn everywhere,” said the first tentacle. the pumpkin-faced one. She watched with approval as her sister tentacle chewed the shrieking little red devil-head into bits. And now that second tentacle began nuzzling at my shoulder with her toothy hole, rasping away the last traces of the parasitic Wackle from my shoulder.
The Halloween face of the first tentacle watched me, her white eyes bouncing around inside the volume of her head.
“Tell your sister thanks, but that's enough,” I told her, putting a protective hand over my shoulder. “Everything else is me, I'm Joe Cube. Nice to meet you two.”
“Jacqui I am, and Loplop my sister,” said the first tentacle. She turned her head inside out and let her eyes slide around on its surface. “True Spacelander you?”
“Truly,” I said. “The Kluppers made a hole in Spaceland, and I have to find Drabk to get a patch. Otherwiseâno more Spaceland. The Kluppers will bomb you day and night. Their grolly plantimals want to grow all over your cliffs. Can I have my saucer back now?”
“No,” said Jacqui, echoed by a breathy, whistling, “No,” from Loplop. And even as they answered, I saw my saucer flying back towards Spaceland, flung at some incredible speed by a whipping motion of the orange anemone's vast tentacles.
“What am I gonna do now?” I cried.
“Come to Mother,” said Jacqui. “Merge.”
I didn't like the sound of this at all. The thing they called Mother was a stadium-sized mound of slimy orange flesh. I tried to twist away, but Jacqui and Loplop were holding me tight, their hands clenched into puckers. The two tentacles began shortening themselves, pulling me down to the writhing orange mass.
Mother was waiting for me. In her center, amid all the tentacles,
was a gaping four-dimensional hole, an intricate structure of chambers and passageways, flexing and folding as we drew closer. Mother's mouth. Somehow I could pick up a faint sense of what she was thinking. The Spacelander was too tasty a morsel to be eaten by a mere tentacle-tip mouth. Mother's tummy, that was the place for the Spacelander.
“Help, help!” I screamed, like some hyperactive cartoon character hanging from a thread above a lion's open mouth. “Someone please help me! I have to find Drabk!”
Ask and ye shall receive. A hypercuttlefish the size of a zeppelin came flying towards us, fixing me with its large, intelligent eyes. The creature's tan flesh was filled with glowing stripes and dots. The undulating four-dimensional fin around its body was like a dancer's spangled skirt, with the powerful beating of the fin bunching the body's spots into impossibly beautiful curves and surfaces. In the midst of the light show was the hypercuttlefish's enormous mouth, wreathed by its creamy tentacles and rimmed by a sharp-edged black beak.
The zeppelin was too fast for the giant anemone. The great jaws severed the tentacles of Jacqui and Loplop, and the three of us were carried off inside the hypercuttlefish's mouth, a space the size of a large, high-cellinged room.
“Damn!” said Jacqui, her bitten-off end quickly sealing over. She and Loplop were still holding onto me.
“Let go,” I said.
“Yes,” whistled Loplop. “Crawl now, Jacqui. We land new place and grow.” The two of them took off like a pair of big worms, humping their way across the damp floor of the hypercuttlefish's mouth. They made it out just before the beak fully closed. And now I was alone. It smelled like baked potatoes in there, not at all what I'd expect. There was something else mixed into the steamy potato smell, a whiff of perfume. Lavender?
The darkness was lit by the glowing spots inside the hypercuttlefish's flesh. I walked and flapped my way over to the polka-dotted wall of the mouth, pressing my flat vinner side against it so that I'd be hard to swallow. It was nice and smooth, and the overall touch of it sent a tingle through every part of my body. The hypercuttlefish flesh reacted to my presence; the lights inside it drew closer to me. But for the moment nothing else happened. I could feel a vibration in the hypercuttlefish; it was flying somewhere fast.
I lay still, catching my breath. I'd been going full out for the last couple of hours. I had a vague feeling I should be making plans, but things were too out of hand to know where to begin. I leaned against the cheek of the hypercuttlefish, too tired to move. The vibrations of its flesh were like music; I found my mind drifting back to New Year's Eve at the Black Watch, with golden oldies blasting on the speakers and colored little Christmas lights tacked to the black plywood walls. Jena and Spazz and Tulip there, the four of us dancing. Dear Jena. I seemed to see Jena right in front of me, decked out in a shining little red dress, her lipstick bright, her hair full of glitter.
Jena leaned forward to talk to me, but her voice came out like noises. “Wuh guh rabba. Yama yava flan.” She looked very receptive, very friendly. I nestled against the hypercuttlefish's cheek, wanting to sink further into my nap. Maybe I could dream about Jena making love to me.
“Is this better?” said Jena, reaching out to tap me on the shoulder. “Can you understand me now?” She was glowing all over like a lightstick.
I let out a grunt of surprise. I wasn't asleep at all. There was a real Jena shape, right here with me. Had the hypercuttlefish put her there?
“You can talk to me,” said the Jena. The lights in the cheek-wall were twinkling in Christmas colors and, by God yes, the vibrations
of the cheek were making a damn good imitation of Nirvana playing “In Bloom.” Too weird.
I craned towards the Jena, still not saying anything. I was worried that she might be planning to eat me. As soon as I had that thought, the Jena smiled at me and I could see her perfect, luminous teeth. She wiggled the tip of her tongue, dark pink against the glowing pale pink of her face.
Using my third eye, I figured out that the Jena was connected on her vinnward side to the cheek of the hypercuttlefish. As far as my regular eyes could tell, she was a free-standing three-dimensional figure, but my third eye could see that in hyperspace the Jena was the vouter end of a hyperbump. Like one of those wart-on-a-tendril lures that anglerfish dangle near their mouths. She was part of the cuttlefish.
“Don't hurt me,” I said, cringing away from the Jena thing. “I'm trying to save your world from the Kluppers.”
“I know,” said the Jena. “I read your whole mind through your hyperskin while you were lying on my cheek.”
I jerked myself away from the cheek, but the Jena gave me a gentle shove, pushing me back against the soft, fleshy wall.
“Relax,” said the Jena. “I'm not out to hurt you. I've already swallowed you, right? What more could happen? My name's Kangy by the way.” The more she talked, the clearer her voice became.
“You sound so normal,” I said finally. “Kangy. Not like the Wackles or those orange tentacle things.”
“I'm a lot smarter than them,” said Kangy/Jena. “They're almost plants.” She came over and leaned up against me. She felt good, though her luminous skin was slicker than Jena's. She didn't smell like Jena, but she didn't smell bad. Like hot tea with lemon. The smell went well with the lavender and roast potatoes scent of the hypercuttlefish's mouth.
“Why don't you love your wife?” asked Kangy in a gentle tone.
“She's always running games on me,” I said. “I do things tor her and then she sulks. Nothing's ever enough. I'm tired of trying to please her. And the real dealbreaker is that she went off and slept with another guy.”
“Deal?” said Kangy. “The deal is you give her money and she grows you a baby? That's not a deal you can make. Paper is two-dimensional, Joe, life is infinite-dimensional. Love comes first.” She cocked her head and smiled impishly. “I'd be interested to see exactly how you Spacelanders
do
it
. Seems like you'd keep falling out.” She slipped off the red dressâor rather the dress merged into her skin. Kangy had gotten Jena's proportions one hundred percent right. That showed what a clear mental image of Jena I must be carrying around in my head, loyal husband that I'd once been. Could I start loving instead of dealing? This Jena looked good enough toâ
But of course she wasn't Jena. She was Kangy. I pushed her away from me. I thought of hidden beaks.
“Maybe that's from your fear of your mother,” said Kangy, responding to my last thought as if I'd spoken it out loud. “Never mind. Let's talk about your plans before we get there.”
“Get where?”
“I'm flying us to the top of Dronia. To find Drabk. Like you asked.” Her bright skin had covered itself with another of Jena's outfits, the yellow blouse and the electric blue slacks she'd been wearing this afternoon.
“You heard me shouting Drabk's name?” I asked.
“Drabk lives in all who hear. He answers when he's needed.”
“Jacqui and Loplop didn't seem to care about Drabk.”
“Plantimals,” said Kangy with a touch of contempt. “All they know is eating and spawning. That's
dealing
for you, Joe. The Wackles want to grow on the Klupper cliffs, and the Kluppers' grolly wants to grow down here. If we didn't have Spaceland to
split the Cave Between Worlds, there'd be a terrible war. But you know what? The Dronners would win. We're smarter and tougher. Compare me to those two-legged Kluppers. Compare a Wackle to a grolly plant. We'd kick their cheesy butts. Spaceland's for
their
protection, not ours. I bet the Klupper Empress knows that. That's probably why she doesn't want those greedy morons in Momo's family to try and get rid of Spaceland.” She was sounding more like Jena all the time.
“How do you know so much?” I asked Kangy.
“Like I told you, I touched every part of your brain through your hyperskin. The skin's not that thick. Momo should have done a better job augmenting you. Anyway, I made a mental copy of your flat brain and I watched it think, so that's how I know everything you know. I ran my copy of your brain in high speed, forwards and backwards like aâvideotape.” She handled the last word like someone picking up dog doo with a shovel. “It's ridiculous how dependent you Spacelanders are on your dippy little machines.”