Jim and the Flims (16 page)

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Authors: Rudy Rucker

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Jim and the Flims
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“What if I am?” said Weena, cocking her head. “Is that another thing to hold against me?”

“Why didn't you tell me back in Santa Cruz? We could have talked about my genetics research.”

“My aim was to seduce you, Jim, not to conduct a seminar. I discuss science with my regular lover Charles, perhaps more than I'd like. He's an Egyptologist turned linguist, and he expects me to help with his calculations. With you, Jim, I was after something more—how should I put it? Something hot and nasty.” She smiled coyly, as lithe and charming as a fashion model.

“Don't talk sex in my kitchen,” interrupted Yerba. “Let's keep a high tone.” She traced a reverent circle in the air with her finger and mimed an extra squiggle for a jiva's tail. “We call our local sun the Earthmost Jiva,” she told me, smiling like a church-school teacher. “We like to say she's the most important jiva of all.”

“At least that's what we say if we know what's good for us,” said Durkle sarcastically. “The jivas inside my parents eavesdrop on them, and every time we go outside the maze, their jivas blab to the Earthmost Jiva about whatever we've been doing. I don't have a jiva in me. I'm just plain kessence. I think the Earthmost Jiva is a disgusting leech.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“Holy holy,” said Grandpa and made an indecent gesture that was a parody of Yerba's. He was poking his forefinger in and out through a loop made with his other hand's finger and thumb.

“See that?” Yerba scolded Weena. “You got the old man started, talking smutty.”

“That must be a hella big hole the Earthmost Jiva burrows in,” said Ginnie.

“One has a fine view of the Earthmost Jiva's sacred burrow from atop the Duke's castle,” put in Weena smoothly. “We'll be hopping to the castle after supper, Jim. The Duke and the Duchess are most eager to prepare you for your mission.”

“Oh, do stay the night,” said Monin hospitably. “We don't get enough visitors here.”

“Isn't there a steady stream of humans and flims asking to go through your snail's tunnel?” I asked.

“We don't publicize our border snail,” said Yerba. “And, even for those who know of her, we're hard to find—thanks to Snaily's maze.”

“But you guys can always get in? Like—if you go for an outing, you can find your way home?”

“Snaily likes to see her friends,” said Yerba. “And if she feels really special about you, she'll let you open her doors.”

“Jim's special,” said Weena. “Jim opened the Earth-side door for me twice.”

“But why couldn't I find the Whipped Vic the second time?” I asked.

“Snaily has her moods,” said Monin.

“I have to wonder who opened the door on Earth for the Graf,” said Yerba, looking around the circle of faces.

“It was me,” volunteered Ginnie gloomily. “The Graf's voice got into my head. And then it got worse. Two guys killed the Graf and me with a green-handled axe.”

“Rough way to die,” said Monin conversationally. “Me, I was hung on the gallows.”

Ginnie stared across the room, lost in her memories. “And they set the Graf on fire. I'd been blanking it out for the longest time, but today it came back. The Graf and I were in a car and he was getting ready to do me—but I could tell it wasn't gonna be sex. I saw the tip of a blue slug peeking out of his mouth, swollen up like a seed pod. The car door flew open and it was Header and Skeeves—”

“I could still pick up that vibe on Header,” I said. “The yuel in his head must have kept some of his personality.”

“It was Skeeves who had the axe,” said Ginnie slowly. “Skeeves who lit the match. But, yeah, Header was egging him on.”

“And Weena,” I said. “She was in Skeeves's head.”

“They were so surprised when the yuel oozed out of the Graf 's body and crawled up Header's nose,” continued Ginnie. “They chopped up the Graf before they lit him. There were some pieces they didn't burn. And then Skeeves axed me. I became a tiny dot—one of those sprinkles. And there just enough pieces of the Graf left over for me to make myself a kessence body. Somehow I knew how.”

“I didn't tell Skeeves to kill you, Ginnie,” said Weena very quickly. “That was his own inititive. All he was tasked to do was to eliminate the Graf.”

“Why would I believe you now?” said Ginnie, glaring at her. “You've lied about so many things. Maybe one of these days I'll get a chance to kill you and Skeeves both.”

“So—Ginnie's a brand new ghost with a jiva in her body?” said Durkle, skipping right past all the human drama.

“Putting it that way makes me think maybe Ginnie should leave now,” said Yerba, suddenly uneasy. “And you go finish fixing up your plow shoes, Durkle. You've had enough excitement.”

Durkle slid bonelessly under the table and lay there like a mound of dough, making moany-groany ghost noises. Grandpa leaned over to peer at him and fell out of his chair. Baby Nyoo started crying. Monin bent over to help his father off the floor.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. It was dark outside now. The dome's walls had a faint glow on the inside, and little round lights glowed each of the rooms. I was starting to like the fanciful lines of the zickzack and the organic shapes of the bio-grown furnishings.

“We are grateful for dinner, Yerba and Monin,” said Weena, rising to her feet. “Come outside with me, Jim and Ginnie. We've disturbed this kind family for long enough. Now I'll show you how your jiva can teleport you the fifty miles to the castle.”

“Isn't anyone even listening to me?” said Ginnie, bursting into tears. “I'm having a crisis! I need to lie down.”

I went and put my arms around her.

“Poor little thing,” said Yerba, her kindly face softening. “I do feel sorry for you, Ginnie. But I have to think of my family. It's against protocol for a new ghost to get a jiva and a zickzack body right away. You're supposed to appear in the depths of the Dark Gulf and work your way up from there. If the Duke's guards were to find out about—”

“I say these two are welcome to stay,” said Monin firmly. “We're hidden here in the snail's maze, Yerba. We don't have to be scared of those murderous, conniving nobles and—” Suddenly he put his hands to his throat, as if he were being choked. Perhaps the outer jivas couldn't see Monin, but he had one living inside of him as well. His family members seemed to take his anguish in stride—as if ectoplasmic choking were fairly routine in Flimsy. I was glad that, so far, I wasn't hearing much of anything from the jiva within me.

“I don't ever want to have a jiva in me at all,” said Durkle, peering out from under the table.

“Of course you want a jiva,” Weena told the boy, even as his father was gasping for breath. “Be a proper citizen. With a zickzack skeleton, you wouldn't be so floppy.”

“Maybe you should bribe me with a dessert,” replied Durkle slyly. “Did you catch some sprinkles inside the snail, Weena?”

“I have a supply,” said Weena, gracing her symmetrical face with a perfect smile. “Pleasantly fresh. If your mother permits, I might dole some out before my hop to the castle.”

By now Monin had recovered, not that he was saying anything more about the nobles. “Let's all have some sprinkles,” he croaked, holding the baby against his shoulder and patting her on the back. “I could use a lift.”

So Weena passed around her stash. Some of the sprinkles were considerably bigger than the others—maybe the bigger ones had managed to eat some of their fellows. Ginnie was still upset, but she took some sprinkles too. And then the sprinkles came to me.

The last time I'd eaten these things was when Weena had put them on my ice cream—and I'd ended up in the hospital. But I was out of my usual body now, and, hell, I didn't want to miss out.

So I had a few.

As before, the living gems were amazingly rich in flavor, like a whole case of tropical fruits. After my dose I was hearing fresh voices in my head, as if by eating the sprinkles I'd assimilated some strangers' minds. The voices were rapidly telling me their life stories. Probably it was just a hallucination, but what a rush. I felt calm and optimistic, enjoying my meds.

“I'm closely connected with the Duke of Human Flimsy,” bragged Weena. “Given that Jim's on an important mission for the Duke, I can guarantee that there won't be any fuss about Ginnie gaining her body so easily. And it's acceptable to me if Jim and Ginnie stay here tonight.” I glanced over at Weena, wondering if she had some secret ulterior motive. “In any case, the materials for Jim's parcel aren't quite ready,” she continued. “You'll come straight to the castle tomorrow, correct, Jim?”

“If it's really allowable, I suppose that—” began Yerba.

“I'll watch them fuck!” interrupted Grandpa, clapping his hands.

“Time for bed,” Monin told the old man. He poured two shots of clear living water from a finely patterned zickzack decanter. He tossed off one drink and handed the other to his father.

“Toot,” said Grandpa, downing his nightcap.

“Toddle off to sleep now,” Yerba told him.

“Toot, toot.” Docilely, the geezer shuffled from the kitchen.

“My father's jiva will run his body for him now,” explained Monin, taking a second drink. “The jiva will undress him, wash him and tuck him in.”

“Otherwise I wouldn't let the old coot live here,” said Yerba, shaking her head. “If the Duke's guards turn up here, we'll give them Grandpa first.”

“Why does a jiva bother with a blown mind like that old man's?” I asked. “If that's not too rude a question.”

“The less of a mind the host has, the more the jiva gets to do,” said Monin with a shrug. “When jivas are breeding, or at war, they fly around on their own, but most of the time they like to be nestled into a ghost's body as a partner. They're bossy and gossipy. They like being involved with another being's mind.”

“I'm putting the baby to bed now,” said Yerba. “Monin can show you to the extra dome when you're ready. I'd rather not be involved.”

“I'll be off too,” said Weena in a polite tone. “Farewell and heartfelt thanks, Yerba. I'll see that you obtain some extra kessence. And Jim will be back soon. We're not done with our business on Earth. We have grand plans.”

14: The Garden

R
ather than going to bed right away, Ginnie and I followed Weena outside to watch her take off. Monin and Durkle came along as well, striding ahead of us across the meadow, leading us out of the maze.

We only had to walk about a hundred yards until we were free of the space warps that hid the farm. For the first time, I could begin to see the true size of Flimsy. The beauty of it made me catch my breath.

The wall of living water rose like a cliff, gradually arcing over towards the impossibly distant zenith of the Flimsy night sky. The towering dome was filled with rivers of faint pastel light, ever so slowly changing as I watched. The patterns were a bit like our Northern Lights—pinks, yellows and greens, branching and merging, streaming upwards and across the sky.

“Fabulous,” breathed Ginnie.

“What causes it?” I asked Monin.

“It's all living water with sprinkles in it,” said Monin with a cursory glance upwards along the wall. “I think we told you that Flimsy is inside a hollow shell of living water. The water is where the ghosts start out. If they do well, they make it into our underground caves, and then maybe up to the fields of Flimsy. If they don't do well, they're swept inward to the core and recycled.”

“The colors are so wonderful,” persisted Ginnie. “All veils and sheets...”

“Hungry ghosts looking for a main chance,” said Monin dismissively. He was blandly accustomed to his night sky.

Weena was finally ready to leave. “When you want to teleport, just consult your jiva,” she instructed me. “She'll know how to find the Duke of Human Flimsy.”

“Could Ginnie and I just walk to the castle?” I ventured. “It'd be nice to have a look around.” I gestured at the mad splendor of the wall and the sky. “We're still not used to any of this.”

“In principle you can walk,” said Weena carelessly. “It's a bit of a trek from here, but I'll be busy for a couple of days talking to the powers that be. And the Duke's castle is easy enough to find. You head for the nearest sun—the Earthmost Jiva. She hovers near the castle like a tethered blimp. Or if you walk at night, follow the direction of the sky's flow.”

“What an adventure!” said Ginnie, whose sprits were beginning to rise.

“Don't stir up trouble with the locals,” cautioned Weena. “There's much about Flimsy that you don't know. If you walked, you'd be in need of a—”

“Guide!” exclaimed Durkle. “Let me do it, Dad. I can find the castle, and I know all about the yuels and their elephants and the offer caps. I'll bring Jim and Ginnie to the Duke's castle, and then I'll come home on my own. I can teleport, too, you know. Even without a jiva. I can do yuel-style teleportation.”

“Let's ask your mother in the morning,” said Monin in a noncommittal tone. “Speaking of jivas, you'll notice a few jiva eggs out here, Jim. Wanting to come inside.”

“There's one right now,” said Durkle, pointing.

The free-floating jiva egg happened to drift fairly close to me. It was a glowing orange-yellow spot with a mauve tadpole shape at its center. It moved with a zigzag motion as if sniffing around for a good site to land. It reminded me of—oh, shit.

The jiva egg was the very image of the bright dot that had floated into our bedroom on the night of the lightning strike. In other words, a jiva egg had gotten inside of Val. And the loathsome tumor that the doctors had incinerated on sight—that had been an embryonic jiva.

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