Knowing that didn’t stop me from being worried sick. But the worry wasn’t enough to get me to take my pants off—especially since it was always possible another of those tentacles might come snaking out of the water and grab me. I wanted to be sure I had something covering my skin in case that happened. Besides, I was not going to walk around in my underwear!
Finally we made it to the crossing spot.
“You expect us to climb over on that?” squawked Maktel.
CHAPTER 20 [LINNSY]
PERILOUS CROSSING
We were not surprised by Maktel’s reluctance. The method for crossing the sewer was nothing but a series of recessed bars, about an inch thick and four inches long, that went up the side and across the ceiling of the sewer tunnel. Bur pulled an image from his mind to share with me, that of the group of native inhabitants who had built the city. They had strong, tentacle-like fingers and could scurry up one side of such a wall and down the other without the slightest fear of slipping.
Obviously this was not the case for our group.
It is hard, in writing this, to describe the way the Bur portion of our mind worked with the Linnsy portion. It is not as simple as us talking to each other. Thoughts were often shared instantly, in a way that went beneath and beyond words. Speaking together, we said, “We will use the rope Eargon Fooz gave Tim to bind ourselves together. If one of us falls, the others will be able to pull that one quickly from the water—or perhaps even hold yeeble from striking the surface.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” said Maktel.
Bur spoke our response for us: “We can leave you here if you would prefer.”
“I’ll go,” said Maktel grimly. He turned to Tim and Pleskit and said, “If I die and you live, please tell my Motherly One what happened.”
“I foresee a future for you in drama,” said Bur. “In the meantime, let’s get to work.”
To our surprise, despite his reluctance, it was Maktel who was most capable when it came to linking us together with the rope. “I learned it in Wilderness Way,” he said, speaking without a trace of smugness. We found this almost as surprising as the knowledge itself.
Thus linked, we started our climb. Tim objected to us going first, but we reminded him he was speaking to Linnsy vec Bur, not just Linnsy, and that we were the leader and the adult in the group.
“Well, one of you is an adult, I guess,” said Tim grumpily.
“If you take the average of our ages, we are almost elderly by Earthling standards,” we told him. Then we started up the ladder.
The climb up the side was not terribly hard. It was when the wall began to curve into the ceiling, so that we were climbing at an angle, that things got tricky-and even more difficult when we actually reached the ceiling. We realized that by hooking our toes under the crosspieces, we could support ourselves better than if we were just dangling by our hands.
The dark waters beneath us appeared tranquil. Even so, we knew that death lurked below the surface. Our arms grew tired. Though the Bur portion of ourselves could feel the pain, it was also able to act as cheerleader, urging us to hold tight, to be strong.
Pleskit was second in line, followed by Maktel, then by Tim. Though we did not say it out loud, the reason we had chosen this arrangement was that we thought Maktel was most likely to fall, and we hoped that if he did, Tim and Pleskit would be able to keep him from plunging into the water.
The other choice would have been to put Maktel second, and here we made a cold-blooded decision to minimize the risk to ourselves. We made this choice not out of fear but because our knowledge was the necessary key to completing our task.
We had just reached the point where the ceiling began to curve back down, and were realizing how tricky it was going to be to descend headfirst, when we heard a cry of despair from behind us. Tilting our head back, we were able to see through Bur’s eyes that Maktel’s feet had slipped, and he was dangling from the ceiling by his hands.
“Tim! Pleskit!” we shouted, using both our voices together. “Hold tight!”
Things did not improve when we saw tentacles come wriggling out of the water. They reached up searchingly, as if attracted by the sound. Tightening our right hand’s grip on the rung, curling our toes to hold ourselves more firmly in place, we took out our ray gun. The shot was difficult, because we had to use Bur’s sight line and Linnsy’s hand to make it, and we had not had time to completely coordinate ourselves. The Linnsy portion felt a terror that we might miss and strike one of the boys. But the tentacles were reaching higher. Maktel, having seen them, was squirming in terror, which increased his danger of falling. We had to act.
“Hold still!” we cried, using both mouths. Then we fired.
We heard a satisfying hiss as our ray sliced the tentacles in half.
“Maktel, see if you can swing your feet back into place,” we shouted. “No! Do not see if you can do it. DO IT!”
He seemed to respond to the firmness of the order. To our relief he managed to get first one and then the other foot hooked back into the rungs.
That was… difficult, thought Bur, speaking only in our head.
Once we had made it down the far side, we quickly untied the rope from our waist and wrapped it around one of the rungs. That way, if the boys fell, they would not pull us in. Also, we would have something to brace against to pull them out—though whether we could get them out before the tentacled creatures grabbed them was anyone’s guess.
Fortunately, we did not have to try. A few moments later we were all standing together again.
The triumph in the boys’ faces was good to see, and we all embraced one another. But there was little time for celebrating. We re-coiled the rope, and moments later we were working our way back toward the fork in the system.
* * *
About an hour later we came to the exit our informant had told us would lead to the citadel of the conspirators.
“Won’t it be locked?” asked Tim.
“No. Access spots to the sewers are locked from the outside, to prevent anyone from sneaking in. But they can always open from the inside, to prevent workers from being trapped. This exit opens onto a shaft that will lead us into the basement of the building where the plot is being run.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Maktel, suspicious as usual.
“We are operating on information we received from a contact inside the conspiracy. That was why Ellico vec Bur went back into the ship after you had dragged them out—to retrieve this information—though they hardly suspected that it would be Linnsy vec Bur who ended up using it. Now come along.”
It took but moments for us to leave the sewers and climb into the subterranean levels of the building housing the conspiracy.
We needed to move with greater caution now. Though we knew that Mikta-makta-mookta did not have a large crew here, we didn’t want to do anything to alert them to our presence.
Slowly, patiently, we made our way, ascending from floor to floor, sometimes using the slide-ramps, sometimes a stairwell, twice traveling through air shafts that our informant had told us about—though in both those cases Maktel was so terrified that it was hardly worth the effort, since the noise of his protests probably offset any secrecy we had gained.
Our plan was to get to the twentieth floor, which was where Mikta-makta-mookta had established her headquarters. Once there, we would try to get a sense of where things stood.
The plan was derailed when Pleskit tapped us on the shoulder.
Turning, we saw a huge being holding Tim in the air. This being had four hands. One was clamped over Tim’s mouth, the second wrapped around his waist, the third and fourth tight around his neck.
“I think you should come with me,” said this monster. “I think you should drop your gun and come very quietly with me. Very quietly. I am very fast. This boy’s neck is very slender. It would not be wise to do anything to make me nervous.”
CHAPTER 21 [TIM]
CAPTURED
The h
ulking giant who captured me had moved with astonishing silence for someone so huge.
I had been following along behind Linnsy vec Bur and the others when, out of nowhere, I felt myself snatched into the air. I struggled, of course, but it was pointless. My captor was fantastically strong. Besides, I was afraid, with him holding me so tightly, that if I fought too hard, I might hurt the oog-slama.
He continued to move with silence, speaking only when he needed to tell the others where he wanted them to walk. He never let go of me, never loosened his grip, never seemed to feel an instant of strain from carrying me.
With the others following, he carried me to an elevator. Soon we reached the top floor of the building.
The entire floor was a single huge room, lavishly decorated. I wondered if the art on the walls, the carvings on the ceiling, were some remnant of the people who had built the city, or if they had been brought in by Mikta-makta-mookta.
In the center of the room, looking completely out of place, stood several high-tech walls of blinking and flashing instruments.
Standing in front of one of those panels, studying a dial, was our old enemy Mikta-makta-mookta.
My terror and despair were complete.
She turned shortly after we came in. Her face raced through a series of emotions—shock, anger, and then, finally, pleasure. And why not? She had us at her mercy.
“Oh, well done, Gorjac!” she cried. “Well done indeed!”
She walked closer to us, and the anger returned to her face. Whiskers bristling, furry cheeks twitching, she snarled, “Is there no place in the galaxy where I am safe from you interfering little gnerfs?”
“Probably not,” said Linnsy vec Bur.
Mikta-makta-mookta’s nose twitched in contempt. “And you, Bur—what an astonishing thing to find you perched on an Earthling’s head! When did you decide such a creature was worthy of your partnership? Are you sure you won’t reconsider? It’s not too late for you to rejoin us.”
I looked at Bur in shock. Had Ellico vec Bur been part of Mikta-makta-mookta’s scheme after all? Suddenly Maktel’s wild suspicions no longer seemed so absurd.
“Ellico vec Bur ended their connection with your group as soon as they found out what you and Dr. Limpoc were really up to,” said the Linnsy portion of the veccir. She spoke with confidence, but I couldn’t help wondering if that confidence was because her mind and Bur’s were merged, so she could say for sure what had happened, or because Bur had taken control, and was lying through her lips.
“Who’s Dr. Limpoc?” I asked.
“Shut up,” said Mikta-makta-mookta. At the same moment a tall being—lean, green, and very scaly—stepped from behind a gleaming wall of instruments and dials.
“I am Dr. Limpoc,” he said, flicking out his tongue and licking his eyebrow.
“Get back to your work, Limpoc,” snapped Mikta-makta-mookta.
“As you wish,” he said humbly, bowing his head and licking his eyebrow once again.
“Since you’ve met Dr. Limpoc,” continued Mikta-makta-mookta, “you might as well know that he is the scientist who figured out just how we can close down the Grand Urpelli. He’s quite brilliant, if not entirely socially acceptable.”
“We see,” said Bur. “Limpoc has no social ability. You have no ethics. And Gorjac here is obviously lacking in the brains department. Is being seriously deficient in some important skill a key requirement for joining your little club?”
Mikta-makta-mookta’s furry face twisted with contempt. “Take them away, Gorjac,” she snarled. “I’ll deal with them later.”
Gorjac grunted. His hands still tight about my neck, he carried me out of the room.
* * *
We went to a room one floor down. Gorjac waited until the others had entered, then flung me in and slammed the door. I landed on my back, bruised and terrified and trying not to cry. I cradled the oog-slama, hoping desperately that it was all right.
Linnsy vec Bur knelt beside me. “We are sorry,” they said, speaking with both their voices. “We have failed you.”
* * *
It was the longest night of my life—made longer by the fact that Mikta-makta-mookta came to see us a few hours later to brag about what she had in store for the galaxy.
She was guarded, of course, by her giant protector, Gorjac. Because he had been holding me from behind, this was the first time I got a good look at him, and I was more terrified than ever to realize that I had been in his grasp. His shoulders had to be at least a yard wide. His head was oddly small for his size. He wore only a pair of tight black pants. His lemon-yellow skin was covered with swirling tattoos.
“I brought this clock for you,” said Mikta-makta-mookta, her nose twitching with self-delight as she placed a large brown object on the floor. “I’ve set it so that you can follow the countdown with me. We have eight kerbleckki to go,” she said, pointing at the glowing signs on the face of the clock. I assumed they were numerals, though I couldn’t read them.
“Don’t worry, Tim,” she said, turning to me as if she understood my confusion. “Your friends will explain to you how to read the clock. When the countdown is finished, I will initiate Dr. Limpoc’s process for freezing the Grand Urpelli.” She smiled her evil hamstery smile. “It will be interesting to see how long it takes before genuine panic seizes the Trading Federation. I think I’ll give them a few days. Once their fear has had a chance to fully ripen, the leaders will receive a message I prepared some time ago, telling them that I have discovered an alternate Grand Urpelli and that I will be glad to license it for their use.”
“My Fatherly One holds the license for that area!” said Pleskit defiantly.
Mikta-makta-mookta chuckled. “Such an innocent! My message will also stress that if anyone dares to thwart me, I will destroy the new urpelli the same way I did the old one. I will be perfectly happy to plunge the galaxy into chaos. However, I do not think this is something the galactic leaders will want to take a chance on.”
She chuckled again, a horrid cheebling sound. “You know, in a way I’m glad you younglings are here to see this. Given all the trouble Pleskit and Tim have caused me, it seems fitting. In fact, I think I’ll have Gorjac bring you up to the main room when it’s time to launch our little project. I want you to witness the beginning of the end!”
She left, slamming the door behind her.
We stared at one another glumly.
“This is horrible!” cried Maktel. “What are we going to do?”
At first no one had an answer. Then I felt the oog-slama wiggle against my chest. I looked down-and whooped in astonishment.
It had become a Veeblax!
If not for the fact that a mad hamster-woman was about to take over the galaxy, I would have been ecstatic.
The new Veeblax crawled onto my shoulder and closed its eyes. In its resting form it looked basically identical to Pleskit’s Veeblax when it was not imitating something—which is to say, somewhat lizard-like. The only real difference was that mine was a bit smaller.
I kept looking from my Veeblax to Pleskit’s. Something was nagging at the back of my brain.
And suddenly I had it.
“I think I’ve got an idea,” I whispered. (I would have shouted, but I was afraid the room might be bugged.)
The others gathered close to me, and I explained what I had in mind.
“You’re crazy,” said Maktel.
“Or at least far more tricky than we would have guessed,” said Bur approvingly.
I remembered that Pleskit’s Fatherly One was fond of saying “Tricky is good.”
“Do you think it will work?” I asked eagerly.
No one knew. But since no one had any better idea, we decided to try my plan.
It took most of the night to get ready for it, and for some of us the preparations were very painful.
But by morning we thought we had a chance to save the galaxy.
CHAPTER 22 [PLESKIT]
BATTLE FOR THE GALAXY
> Gorjac came to fetch us about fifteen minutes before Mikta-makta-mookta was scheduled to give Dr. Limpoc the “Go” signal for freezing the Grand Urpelli. It was not lost on any of us that the urpelli would be used to deliver the signal that would begin its own destruction.
Gorjac wasn’t alone this time. He had three guards with him, all of them carrying weapons. One guard for each of us. Obviously Mikta-makta-mookta was taking no chances.
The giant looked us over and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe a group of kids—well, three kids and a veccir who was half-kid—could be worth all this bother. We lined up in front of him, Linnsy vec Bur, Maktel, Tim still wearing his oog-slama pouch, and me with a Veeblax on my shoulder.
Gorjac didn’t bother to look behind the door. Why would he?
“Put these on,” he growled to Maktel and me. He handed us a pair of pointed caps made of some shiny black material. Obviously the caps were designed to shield our sphen-gnut-ksherri so they could not blast him. The caps strapped under our chins and were very humiliating to wear. I felt like a clown, though I did not feel like laughing.
Once we had the caps securely in place, Gorjac and friends marched us out of the room and up to the next floor.
Mikta-makta-mookta was waiting for us at the door, playing the role of gracious hostess. “I am so glad you could come!” she cried, doing a wonderful job of faking delight. “I was afraid you might not be able to make it. That would have been so sad. I’ve prepared the most lovely surprise for you.”
Snatched from Earth Page 8