Vurt 1 Vurt by Jeff Noon

Author:Jeff Noon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-01-09T20:20:43.062000+00:00

My voice was searching, and I guess the Beetle must have picked up on it, down in the darkness, because he was mumbling words around the feather. They came out clogged by the Vurt, so I pulled that feather out, jerking him away from the dream. Just like he used to do with me, when I went in alone. The play was shifting, and I knew how bad it felt, to have your dream dragged from your mouth.

He came back to us with a slow rising, as though he was used by now to being dragged back, maybe by Mandy, as though he was riding the feathers real easy these days.

"What is it, my man?" he drawled.

I managed an answer, but it came out awkward.

"Is there no end to the trouble, Bee?" I asked, with a breaking voice.

"No end. . . Scribble. . ." replied the Beetle, slovenly, from the depths of his pain. His eyes weren't even open. "Not since the schoolyard. Remember that?"

His eyes were slitted, crusted, just a glimpse of eyeball showing through, between the twin layers of bloated skin.

"I remember, Bee. You used to bully me something rotten."

"Aye. Good days. Good days. . ." He was drifting off again.

"Beetle!"

His eyes flicked open, halfway, pushing apart the lids. "How's Murdoch, Scribb," he asked. "Is she dead yet?"

"I don't know," I answered.

"Maybe she is. Maybe we finished her."

"No, not yet," said Mandy. "I didn't see that."

"What did you see?" I asked.

"That was some bad theatre, back there."

"What are you after, Mandy?" I asked.

"What's it to you?" she answered.

"It's everything."

"Don't give up the fight, Scribble," said the voice. It was the Beetle's voice.

"How could I?" I replied.

"Keep on finding them. The Brid and the Sister. And the Thing. Don't give up on me."

"Bridget was in the Slithy Tove," I told him.

"What do you mean?"

"Bridget was in the Slithy Tove. I saw her there."

I was expecting him to say I was going off the edge someway, that I was feeling the pull too much, the pull of Tapewormer. Which is like willing the past into life.

Guy should know. He was the one hooked.

Except I got an entirely different answer.

"Talk to the Dingo about this."

"What's that, Bee?" I said, puzzled. "The Dingo? Does he --"

"Yes."

"What?"

"He might know something."

"Brid's still alive?"

"Maybe she is. I caught something in the van. They thought I was out of it." He smiled. It was a painful smile. "You know me, Scribb. Down, but never out."

"I just want to give in,

Bee. It's too much for me."

"Is life like that?" the Beetle asked.

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