The Land Beyond Summer is posted for entertainment purposes only and no part of it may be crossposted to any other datafile base, conference, news group, email list, or website without written permission of Pulpless.Comtm.
Copyright © 1996 by Brad Linaweaver. All rights reserved.


CHAPTER TEN
THE KLAVE

Jennifer sang to Fay and Kitnip as they ate the sweet food that came in the shape of brightly colored flowers. The flowers were almost too sweet. But they made Fay feel stronger. The cat was eating a smaller flower than Fay's, a dark red bloom; and it was pretty easy to guess that this one must taste like meat.

"So, tell me about yourselves," Jennifer said.

Fay remembered the title of a book she had been intending to read: Stranger in a Strange Land. She'd heard those words in church, too. So she used them to describe herself to Jennifer.

"Well, you are strangers," the lovely girl replied, "but there's nothing strange about this land -- at least not until the new monster came."

Kitnip's ears went up at those words, and Fay could guess what would come next. "Do you mean Grand ... I mean, the one Mrs. Norse calls Malak?"

"Oh, do you know her?" asked Jennifer bounding up. "Isn't she the most wonderful person? She taught me a dance." Fay had a cousin who was interested in Renaissance dance, and as Jennifer began to sway back and forth, and then take little hopping steps in a formalized style, it reminded the young stranger that no matter how far you travel from home, there will always be reminders of what you've left behind.

But at the moment, Fay was not enjoying the demonstration. She was exasperated at how difficult it was to keep this pretty young thing on any subject for long. The best to be done was to keep trying.

"You were talking about a monster?" Fay tried again.

"Yes," came the languid voice. "The new one."

"Might that be Malak?" the cat volunteered.

"They're all Malak, you know," sighed Jennifer, in the most matter-of-fact tone. She was starting to sound bored but Fay wasn't about to let their hostess get off that easy.

"Please tell us what you know," requested Fay in a stern voice.

"What could I tell you that you wouldn't find out from Mrs. Norse?"

Oh, the girl was irritating. "Since we haven't seen her yet, how the hell should we know?" Fay was surprised to hear such language coming out of her own mouth. Kitnip's tail went straight up.

The outburst did accomplish something. Jennifer stopped dancing. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes fluttering. "I didn't mean to make you sad." She sort of glided over and touched Fay's cheek with a most delicate hand. "I'll help you," she said, then kissed Fay on the forehead. "I'd kiss you on the top of your head except you're almost as tall as I am. You must be very tall for your age."

Fay blushed. "Yes, my brother teases me about it."

Jennifer took Fay by the hand and led her over to sit on a flat stone next to the waterfall. "Now I'll tell you about the monster," she said. "Once upon a time...."

"I don't believe this," said the cat in a low sibilant hiss of skepticism.

"... there was a very bad wizard who hated the seasons. He wanted everything to stay the same all the time so he wouldn't need to change his wardrobe or alter his plans because of the weather. But of all the worlds in space and time in which he might take up residence, he was in the very worst place for a person who felt the way he did. You see, he was living right in the center of the Seasons, in a palace where all four Seasons met at the exact point of his throne."

The manner in which Jennifer regarded Fay inspired a nod from her young protege. Fay leaned forward, eager to hear more.

Jennifer continued: "The evil wizard had a name no one can remember any longer, but he took a new name, Malak, and with the passing of time his new name became a title. He made so much trouble for everyone that the people of the land had to turn to The Original for help."

Jennifer paused as if expecting her young friend to ask the obvious question, but Fay smiled sweetly, assuming: Wait long enough, and everything has a reason.

Jennifer laced her fingers together whenever she mentioned the Original, which she began doing with greater frequency: "The Original, of course, created the Seasons, and gave them this home from which to guide secondary worlds. No one would have dreamed that a native of these lands would ever challenge the Seasons! There was a war in which the palace was destroyed. You have seen the remains."

Try as she might, Fay could not remember passing through any monumental ruins recently. She shook her head. Jennifer smiled and said, "You stood on what was once the most magnificent palace in all the universes."

Recognition dawned as Fay gasped, "The stone mountain!"

"The sodden mound o'er which blossomed the hopes of all," intoned Jennifer, without missing a beat. "So it was the Original took on many forms instead of One. You are well aware of the most respected form."

Fay required no extra prompting. "Mrs. Norse," she said, then added, "of course." Aaaargh, that rhymes, she thought.

"We love her best because she's closest to the Original. The rest kept breaking up into smaller and smaller parts, until you get me, for instance!" Choosing that moment to curtsy, Jennifer allowed herself the pleasure of enjoying Fay's exaggerated expression.

Unsure whether or not she should bow or kneel before the beautiful woman, Fay asked, "What happened to the people who lived there?"

"They're still around, but in greatly reduced forms. Some are nice and some are nasty -- so what would you expect? What's important," said Jennifer, throwing her hair over her shoulder for emphasis, "is that we pieces of the Original have our hands full putting up with all the different people who take turns at being Malak! Mrs. Norse has her hands full. From the beginning, she told the first Malak, as she has told all his successors, how silly it was to oppose the Four Seasons on the grounds that he wanted things always to be the same. The Seasons make up one thing, after all, just in four parts. They're always the same, even if they do provide a little variety. And what's wrong with a little variety, anyway?"

Fay agreed that there was nothing wrong with variety and that she, in fact, had a marked preference for it. Jennifer pressed on: "If you've seen one Malak, you've seen them all! They insist that One Season will have to conquer the other Three for all times and places. Mrs. Norse was surprised that Malak didn't seem to care which Season would prevail over the rest. I suppose it was random chance that he chose Autumn for his first attempt. Mrs. Norse did such a good job of defending that country from him that she made it her permanent home. And incidentally, Malak was destroyed for a while. He tried to divide himself into many pieces just the way the Original had."

"What happened?" Fay blurted out.

"He broke himself! But a force of will was left behind his shattered body, a fiend that wouldn't rest until One won! Oh my, that rhymes." The cat sniffed the air, whiskers twitching the way they always did when there was too much cuteness in the air.

"Why is Mrs. Norse called Mrs. Norse?" asked the cat.

"Because it's her name, silly!" was Jennifer's perfectly reasonable reply. "Ever since the great battle, 'Malak' has been an unhonorary office. Or should that be dishonorary?"

"Dishonorary," opined Fay because she thought it sounded better.

"Non-honorary," Kitnip corrected everyone in sight. "There's something I'd like to know. Wolf and I were grabbed by humanoid things Malak had sent to replace Mr. and Mrs. Gurney..."

"Slaks," said Jennifer in a cold voice. "We call them Slaks."

"Yessss," purred the cat, "a good name for them. I thought I was about to use up all my remaining lives, if I may draw upon a venerable human superstition. But Mrs. Norse rescued us, gave Wolf and me a briefing at her house, and then before we had our bearings, wrinkled her nose or whatever she does, and I was with Fay and I assume Wolf is with Clive. A real shame, too, because I was just becoming acquainted with a really handsome Tabby...."

"Kitnip!" Fay was genuinely put out.

"Sorry," said the cat, "but I want to know what we're up against. Is it possible to oppose Malak? If not, is there anywhere where we can hide from him?"

Jennifer suggested they go for a walk, as much to help digest their food as absorb the feast of information following those innocent sounding words, Once upon a time. Jennifer took Fay by the hand and led her young friend to the opposite side of the alcove, while Kitnip's dark shape darted in and about their smooth, white legs.

"Now, as to Kitnip's question," Jennifer pontificated, but delightfully, "the problem was that the forces released by Malak couldn't be reversed. They had become part of reality, the same as the Seasons. They were like a kind of bad weather." Fay wanted to ask what they used for weather around here but the breath Jenifer took was insufficent to get a word in edgewise.

At least Jennifer maintained a chatty tone: "When the first Malak tried to split himself into little Malaks, doing something only the Original can really do, he still accomplished a bad thing. Bits and pieces of himself spread throughout the Universes and infected people. These little bits would drift in the air of a particular world until they were inhaled by all sorts of people and animals; but only a certain kind of person was in danger of becoming infected."

"I see where this is going," said Kitnip.

"Boy, did they come to the right place when they found Grandfather."

"You wouldn't be here," Jennifer told them, "unless your world provided the new monster. There should also be signs and portents in your own sphere."

"I understand," said Fay. "Global warming!"

"Coming right after the new ice age!" sniffed the cat, unimpressed.

"Huh?" asked Jennifer and Fay as one.

While Fay was trying to figure out how Kitnip knew so much, Jennifer said, "You're out of my depth, but soon you'll meet someone who can handle almost anything."

They hadn't walked that far from the site of their pleasant picnic, but they had been in a secluded place, closed in without much of a view. Fay had no idea how near they had been to their destination until they walked over a hill, crowned with tall trees.

They had been only a few hundred yards from a most amazing sight. Instinctively, Fay's hand went for the makeshift sack of pine cones at her side. She could feel Kitnip rubbing up against her as if to say everything was all right.

The gigantic glass hive loomed on the horizon. Maybe a thousand of the semi-transparent men could be seen working inside and outside the edifice. From the stone mountain, it had been impossible to see inside; but close up it was easy.

Once again, Fay was dumbfounded by a world without shadows. The effect was as if everyone floated above the ground instead of actually touching. If she ever got home again, she'd never take shadows for granted. Even the most solid looking objects were given a quality of insubstantiality by the absence of shadows; but in the case of the skeleton men, who didn't appear real to begin with, the sight was truly disorienting.

Another oddity was that with all the feverish activity, one would expect noise. There was only a slight rustling and murmuring to be heard, and if you weren't seeing it for yourself you would assume these were forest sounds, the gurgling of a brook and perhaps the foraging of squirrels. As they drew nearer other sounds could gradually be made out -- a low humming and a persistent sighing.

The figures inside the glass building were working on some kind of machines that were made from all sorts of things: wood, metal, stone, glass ... everything except the strange, grey substance Jennifer had warned Fay not to eat. Fay was fascinated by what the people were doing on the outside. They seemed as naked as the others except for large belts of some dark material that held tools. (She had gotten past the point of thinking of them as creatures. Whatever they were, they were most certainly people; but she didn't like the name, Tabriks.)

They were tending to animals that were swimming in circular ponds surrounding the great hive. These were turtle-like creatures with almost perfectly triangular shells. They flourished in pairs, one large and one small, attached by a rubbery tube that went from the exact center of one shell to the other. This meant that the big one tended to drag the little one around.

Several of the skeleton folk were poking at the turtles with long poles. The idea seemed to be to remind the large turtles they had the smaller turtles connected to them. A powdery food being sprinkled across the surface of the water was easily consumed by the big ones, leaving nothing for their smaller partners if they weren't prodded to remember.

One of the Tabriks was going from pool to pool, peering at the denizens of the water through over-sized spectacles. When the figure doing the inspecting was satisfied, he would simply nod at one or two of the turtle couples, and one of the workers would use his pole (they had grappling devices on the end) to fish some of the turtles out.

Next, the two turtles would be carried over to a large object that seemed to be growing out of the ground. The top portion seemed to be a collection of small caves thrown together pell-mell, while the bottom part resembled the trunk of a gigantic tree. When the skeleton man positioned the two small creatures, still dripping wet, over one of the caves, hanging helplessly, he pulled out a pair of scissors from a belt that was his only attire. He snipped the cord! The two turtles separated and fell, side by side, into the waiting dark holes.

"Isn't it beautiful?" asked Jennifer.

"If you say so," was Fay's uncertain reply.

"They're mating!" reported Kitnip. "That can't be anything else." There were slippery sounds emanating from the holes, and occasionally the flash of something glistening down there in the dark.

"It's the Klave," intoned Jennifer.

"Whatever they're doing," said Fay, surprising herself by the depths of peevishness she detected in her own voice, "how is this going to help my family? I don't have anyone...." (and even as the words escaped from her lips, she knew she was doing Kitnip an injustice) ... but she couldn't stop the torrent: "I'm tired and I'm afraid."

"If you were really afraid," came a kind voice, "you wouldn't carry on like that."

Turning slowly, she saw one of the Tabriks, her terrible skeleton men, standing right behind her. Only this time she felt just fine about it.

***

The forest of Autumn was cool without being clammy or wet. With no mornings or nights, it was a mystery when, if ever, dew clung to the brightly colored leaves. But however it was accomplished, the fresh smell was refreshing.

Clive and Wolf felt strong and weren't even a little bit tired. This was good, because the woods were wide and deep. Since drinking the water Wolf had found, Clive was reinvigorated; he was still hungry but able to ignore the empty ache at the center of his stomach. As he ran, he felt like he was floating above the ground.

"It's here!" cried Wolf, loping forward. He'd found a path, no small feat with all the leaves around. Clive was filled with joy. After all, paths generally lead somewhere. Their destination must be near ... especially with the remarkable totem pole towering up ahead, and growing larger with every step.

Wolf was so happy that he was running up and down a rock studded incline next to the path. He even let himself bark. There must not be any dangers here. Clive relaxed.

They ran the rest of the way.

As Clive took his first step out of the woods, birds began to sing. They seemed to be mostly above and behind him, but he didn't waste any time trying to see them. His attention was riveted by the house he'd spied through the telescope on the mountain of stone; only it was far more dramatic experienced close at hand.

The house was more than secluded. Viewed from any angle, it was well hidden unless you came up right on top of it. And yet as he moved closer, Clive noticed how peculiar it was that the place had a neatly kept lawn. Even if it was raked every day, a cascade of leaves and twigs would surely cover it within a few hours.

The scene was as perfect as something out of a display window at a department store, awash in the glow of good credit. The house was of wood and brick, with just a dab of paint here and there to show off its best features. There were two stories with the largest lightning rod this side of a Frankenstein movie jutting from the roof and pointed at the totem pole. The perfectly maintained lawn enclosed the house like a green doughnut.

The path Wolf had been following came to an abrupt end at the edge of the grass. Wolf turned to Clive as if the human member of the team should do something. All Clive knew was that he didn't like upstairs windows. These seemed to be gazing upon him with sad, dusty eyes.

"Weird," was how he appraised the tall, wooden mailbox rising incongruously out of the leaf blanketed ground directly in front of the untouched lawn. On the front of the box was a great cat's head with emerald eyes shining.

"Wonder how she gets mail out here," said Wolf. The dog sniffed at the edge of the green sea. This was the most remarkable proof yet to Clive that they were in a topsy-turvy world: a dog hesitating to go on the grass! Clive decided to take the initiative. There was no other way to reach the door. Besides, Wolf told him to go first.

Even through his shoes, it was as if he could feel the softness of each individual blade. It was like walking on foam rubber. He marched forward to the front door.

There was no doorbell, no heavy knocker, no way of making noise but to bring his fist down on the old wood. He did just that, knocking once, twice, three times. Meanwhile, Wolf had crept up behind him. Their roles had changed subtly. The dog was not sure of himself here.

From inside they heard a rustling, and then the mewing of a cat. The door opened on well-oiled hinges without the slightest squeak. With exacting little ballet steps, a cat emerged. Clive could feel how uncomfortable Wolf was as the feline walked around them, scrutinizing every detail, before disappearing inside.

All this time, the door was only half open. Now it opened all the way. A voice from deep inside called out: "Welcome."

Go to Next Chapter.


Return to Table of Contents.