Beetle Juice (11 page)

Vanja changed to bat form and flew up. The wind caught her and blew her to the side. She landed and changed. “Bad one,” she agreed. “We haven't seen weather like this before. Not in the amoeba. It's just one thing after another.”

“I suspect the Amoeba,” Wizard said. “It is putting us through a course, forcing us to develop techniques we may need for the mission.”

“For a thing that takes no direct action, it's pretty active,” Tod said sourly.

“It is merely a particular trail, one with challenges,” Wizard said. “We need to organize in key ways before the crisis comes.”

“Well, right now we're in danger of getting blown away,” Vanja said. “We need to find shelter, and there's nothing I've seen from the air.”

“I will scry,” Wizard said. “I am better with subjects I can touch, but I am touching the air and can fathom it to an extent.”

“We know there's a storm,” Veee said. “Scry the ground for shelter.”

“Good thought.” Wizard put a hand down on the ground. “Oh, my.”

“Don't get cute, Wiz,” Vanja said. “What's the answer?”

“You won't like this.”

“I'm not a child! Out with it.”

“The only suitable cave within range is that of the mind monster.”

Vanja stepped back as if struck. “You're right. I don't like it.”

“We escaped it,” Tod said. “Now we have to join it? That's risky.”

“Less risky than the coming storm,” Wizard said. “It's a cyclone.”

“A hurricane?” Tod was plainly impressed. “We do need to get under cover.”

“We have learned how to turn off the monster's appetite,” Veee said. “We should be able to approach it if we do so in a non-threatening manner, so it doesn't have to defend itself.”

“Oh, joy,” Vanja muttered.

Tod turned to Wizard. “If we go there, and the thing has a change of appetite, can you bomb it?”

“I can,” Wizard agreed.

“Don't do that unless you have to,” Veee said.

There was another gust of wind, this one stronger, carrying leaves and twigs. The storm was incipient.

“Let's go,” Tod said. They reformed their formation and moved out, this time maintaining their don't-eat moods.

The trip was rapid, now that they weren't fighting anything. Soon they reached the base of the hill beyond their prior struggle, and followed the path to a bank. There was the cave entrance.

And there too was the monster. “A giant hermit crab,” Tod said. “Or maybe an ant lion, on a larger scale.” The images in his mind seemed apt. The thing seemed to be as large as a unicorn. Those pincers looked quite capable of severing limbs.

“Do we have to?” Vanja asked plaintively.

Another blast of wind whipped her black hair to the side as if trying to tear it out. More debris flew by. A nearby tree leaned dangerously. That was answer enough.

Wizard dismounted, and Wetzel resumed manform. He quested for the crab's mind. “We have become non-prey to it,” he said.

“Its body blocks the whole cave entrance,” Tod said.

“So the cave is tight against the storm,” Wizard said. “We simply need to persuade it to let us pass.”

“To squeeze by it?” Vanja asked. “I'd rather drink bad blood and puke.”

“Check its mind, Wetzel,” Tod said. “Find out how we can deal with it.”

Wetzel checked. “It doesn't care about us now, since we dropped off the prey list. All it's thinking of is a really sore muscle it got from cracking open too hard a bone a few days ago.”

“The poor thing!” Vanja said witheringly.

“Maybe we can deal,” Veee said. “If we fix the muscle, it may let us through.”

“Maybe if we plug it through the head, it will die and let us through,” Vanja said.

“We can't make any deal if we can't communicate,” Tod pointed out.

“Ah, but we can,” Wizard said. “The creature is at least semi-telepathic. That's how it summons its prey. We just need to think the right thought.”

“A thought of healing and relief of pain,” Veee said. “Associated with a thought of sharing its cave with a party of five inedibles.”

“That thought would be a promise,” Tod said. “But we would need to deliver.”

“How?” Vanja asked sharply.

Veee looked at her.

“Oh, no! I'm not helping that brute any way short of killing it.”

“We need you, Vamp,” Wizard said. “Are you up to the sacrifice?”

Another storm gust almost blew them off their feet. “Oh, for Pedro's sake!” Vanja formed a mood of healing, especially of a painful muscle, buttressed by the thought of sharing. She advanced on the crab. “Show me where it hurts, Crabby.” Her mind pictured a muscle radiating pain.

The crab extended a giant pincer. At its base was a reddish area. “That's it,” Wetzel said.

Vanja stepped close and put her fang to it. She bit, slowly, paused a moment, then carefully withdrew.

“The pain is fading,” Wetzel reported.

“Of course it is,” Vanja said. “I injected anesthetic. It won't cure it, but it will relax it so it can heal.”

“So we have delivered our favor,” Tod said. “Will it reciprocate?”

“Let me try,” Wetzel said. “I will know its intention in time to escape if I have to.” He walked to the crab.

The crab retreated into its hole, making room to pass. Wetzel squeezed by it, and walked on into the dark cave. It stank of crab dung, but was otherwise habitable.

The others followed, as the wind tore at them with increasing fervor. Soon they were all inside.

“What a stench!” Vanja complained. “I'll take bat guano over this anytime.”

“Fortunately there are vents,” Veee said, putting her face by a crevice that let in a wan gleam of light and some fresh air. “Here's another, Vanja.”

Vanja joined her, inhaling the slip of fresh air.

The tempest intensified, now carrying rain and hailstones. The crab moved forward, blocking the entry, and the weather receded. They were safe from the storm.

“Isn't this better?” Veee asked Vanja.

“Very well, you distaff canine!” the vampire snapped. “It is marginally better than getting blown away.”

Veee kissed her.

“Now, while we are waiting,” Wizard said, “You may resume your narration, Tod, and fashion your storm shelter. There is hardly a more fitting place to do it than this.”

Tod laughed. “Indeed, it is appropriate. My most secret shame is from childhood. We had something to go to, I no longer remember what, maybe the library, and I was asked whether I needed to use the toilet before I went. I said I didn't. Then I was caught by an urgent need and pooped my pants. I was so embarrassed that I sneaked into the facility restroom and cleaned up and washed out my shorts myself, wrung them out and put them back on damp. I never told anyone, always fearing that somehow it would be discovered, but it never was. So it remains my secret, until now.”

“That library,” Wetzel said. “That could be your shelter.”

They worked at it, and gradually Tod got it. He had his shelter.

Then it was Vanja's turn. “Yours was poop,” she said. “Mine was similar. As a child once I was in a group event with several other girls, and my digestion turned on me. I got horrible gas. I managed to let it out silently, but it was a heroically worthy stink, worse than what's here in this cave. Naturally the other girls soon smelled it, and made exaggerated choking and retching sounds before guessing who was responsible. They finally pinned it on another girl, who of course denied it, but they called her a liar and she was stuck with it.” Vanja took a breath. “I was silent, letting her take the blame. She was my friend. That's my shame: that I did that to my friend. I swore never to do that again.”

“So the experience made you a more honest person,” Wizard said. “Now that is part of what we respect in you.”

“I still hate the thought,” Vanja said. Then she worked on it, and in due course had her storm shelter.

Then all they had to do was wait out the storm. They stood by their vents, breathing the turbulent drafts, and slept standing. When they needed to, they added to the refuse of the cave. Fortunately it was large enough to hold any amount, and the older material was composting.

Their primary enemy became boredom. “Let's practice our arts,” Veee said. “Tell us a diverting story, Wizard.”

They had arts? Wetzel hadn't realized. He had his own interest in Drama; would that mesh?

“Once upon a time there was a virgin in search of a unicorn,” Wizard said.

“I'll be the virgin,” Vanja said. “That requires an extraordinary feat of acting. I will do a Virgin Dance to summon that handsome beast. Set the stage, Veee.”

“A cave in a forest, shelter from a storm,” Veee said.

Vanja accepted that. “Music, maestro.”

Tod got out a small musical instrument, an ocarina, and played a flute-like melody. It was surprisingly good; it was lovely music. Vanja danced to it, and in the gloom her body almost seemed to glow.

Wetzel, of course, was the unicorn. There was room in the cave; he transformed and allowed himself to be enchanted by the Virgin.

The story continued from there, involving the other team members; everyone had a part to play. Wizard had a talent for narration, and it was a fair diversion. The interim became almost pleasant despite the ugly setting. They were all pleased. Their several talents helped them to get along well. Even the crab monster seemed to be tuning in in its fashion.

Next morning, by Tod's timepiece, the storm was abating. They broached the crab, who obligingly let them out. Vanja paused to give it another bite, extending the pain relief.

“There may be no redemption for your shame,” Wetzel said. “But what you have done for a creature you regard as your enemy might be a kind of redemption.”

“It's what Veee would do,” Vanja said simply. “She wanted to spare this creature.”

“It taught us the need for storm shelters,” Veee said. “And how to avoid a dangerous summons.

They looked around. The local landscape was a wreckage. Many trees had been blown down, and much of the underbrush had been scoured away. They had to pick their way through; the path no longer existed.

“I'll scout the best route.” Vanja changed and flew up. In a moment Wetzel caught her mental image: there were more wolfkeys prowling. They were scooting around and under the fallen wood, heading this way.

“Wolfkeys,” Wetzel said.

“We're at a disadvantage in this wreckage,” Tod said. “They can hide and pounce from ambush.”

“No,” Wetzel said. “I can read their minds.” Then he reconsidered. “Their minds are locked. They're not stalking us.”

“The crab!” Wizard said. “They came within range, and it caught them.”

They stood and watched as the first wolfkey emerged from under a trunk and walked toward the crab. The crab's pincers caught it and cut it into pieces. Then the crab's mouth crunched the pieces.

“It eats wolfkeys!” Vanja breathed. “Now I know why we spared it!”

“I thought it might have its uses,” Veee said.

“And here I thought you were just softhearted.”

“That, too,” Veee agreed, smiling.

“It surely helps keep down their numbers,” Tod agreed. “That pack won't be following us beyond this point.”

They resumed their advance, no longer concerned about predators. Wetzel wondered when they would discover their mission. If this was all merely preparation for it, it could be some challenge.

They picked their way back up the hill to the trail. This was miraculously undamaged.

Miraculously? Wetzel realized that the Amoeba was a creature of trails, so must safeguard them. They might have been safe if they had simply hunkered down on the trail and let the storm pass. Might have. He was hardly sure enough of that to risk it if another storm came. The wolfkeys had attacked them on the trail, after all, so it was not safe in that sense.

They made good progress, and in the early afternoon came to another village. “Caution,” Wizard advised. “Chances are they will ignore us, recognizing us as being on Amoeba business. But we should not assume too much. They might possibly be hostile.”

But as they approached it, a person came out to meet them. “Welcome, travelers!” he called. He was a handsome man of middle age with brick-red hair and beard. “We have been expecting you.” His mind indicted just such an expectation.

“Expecting us?” Tod asked. “We expected just to pass through, on our way to our mission.”

“Your mission is here,” the man said. “I am Red, mayor of RedBrick Village.” He smiled. “Because of my hair, you know; it matches. Whoever is closest in color is mayor. And you are?”

“I am Tod,” Tod said.

“Come, Tod, and party; we have reserved facilities for you.” Red glanced at Wetzel. “Though I admit we had not anticipated a unicorn or a bat. Will a stall do?”

“Before we proceed further,” Tod said quickly, “we need to be sure there is not some confusion. What mission are you thinking of?”

“Beetle Juice, of course,” Red said.

Those were the key words. “Then we shall gratefully accept your hospitality,” Tod said. “This is Veee, and Wizard. The unicorn and bat are also members of our party.”

Wetzel appreciated Tod's caution. The villagers could have heard the words and recognized them as an Amoeba project, and set up to waylay the team when it appeared. Like wolfkeys or the telepathic hermit crab. So Tod was accepting the offer, but remaining on guard. Neither Wetzel nor Vanja made any sign.

“We may have a problem,” Red said. “Bats eat bugs.”

“They do,” Tod agreed. “What is the problem?”

“This is complicated, and you will need a thorough briefing. But the essence is that we are trying to preserve a vitally important beetle, which we call the scarab, and we dare not risk it getting eaten.”