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."