Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Toby staggered out of the elevator, feeling a mix of terror and almost magnetic fascination. He'd seen news programs before about cult leaders. People with that rare, serpentine charisma that other people will do literally anything to be near. Luxy had it in spades. Toby felt like he'd just escaped from mind control. And that was just the man's image on TV! What in the world would it feel like to be in his presence?
Zinc clapped the mouse's shoulder. "He's somethin', ain't he?"
"He's... interesting," Toby admitted.
Piffle swayed back and forth. "I think he's swellegant!"
Junella sneered. "Him? Lousy chatterbox punk..."
That seemed an odd reaction. Toby wondered if she'd had bad dealings with Luxy before.
He was considering whether or not he dared ask about it when his attention was completely ripped away by the neighborhood he now found himself in.
This was Bigwheel One.
Easily-enough guessed, since there were big signs proclaiming it everywhere. Toby wondered if it looked like this because it was the first stop for tourists, or if every level was this fucking insane.
If Coryza was colorful and bright in an Old World style, Bigwheel One was a gaudy psychedelic vision of a future that had never come to pass. Everything was unnatural angles, aggressively strange architecture, and colors not found in nature. It reminded Toby of a theme park he'd once seen pictures of. And NEON! Good Lord, you couldn't throw a baseball in any direction and not shatter some eye-searing sign advertising everything under the sun. 'OPEN', 'LO-PRICES', 'TANNING', 'HARD LIQUOR', 'AMMO', 'HOT DOGS', 'BIG SALE', 'AIR-CONDITIONED', 'FREE SHOWS NIGHTLY.' Toby was unsurprised to be able to count four- no, five souvenir shops just from where he was standing. He supposed he probably wasn't gonna get out of this place without buying a t-shirt or something.
He would have thought that there'd be precious little solid ground in a city made of ferris wheels. Not so. He hadn't realized just how BIG the wheels were. He and the others who had just exited the elevator were standing at the edge of a horizontal disc the diameter of a small village. Even with the spaces between its spokes, there was more than enough room for avenues full of shops and eateries. Columns extended up from the Bigwheel to its twin high above. Sandwiched in between were more ferris wheels than the mind could comfortably comprehend. Every imaginable shape and size. Vertical ones and horizontal ones, all moving in sync to keep the landscape in constant motion. Even the wheel they were standing on was moving. Toby wondered if they had to angle the elevator tubes a certain way to send people up through them. That thought led to wondering how often people got horribly crushed between two intersecting wheels. 'They must have some way to compensate for that, right?'
Zinc had the slack-jawed grin of a yokel seeing indoor plumbing for the first time. "Isn't this GREAT!? Excitement's everywhere! Speed! Thrills! Laffs! I actually used to live here for a titch. A month or three, before I met Junella." He turned and noticed the skunk was in a rather bad mood. "Heyyy, cheer up, toots! Think about it: you were exciting enough by yourself to lure me away from all this!"
She gave him a 'You are so full of shit' look, but did smile a tiny bit.
"Cheep. Cheep," said George. "Actually, am I allowed to speak or will that spoil the illusion?"
"Sure you can talk," Junella said. "Lookit all the freaks here. Who's gonna notice a talking parrot?"
And boy was she right. This was just the periphery of the city, and already the group was witness to a plethora of eccentricity. Clothing styles ranged from centuries past to centuries yet to come. Body modifications seemed to be a big thing too. Toby saw enough earrings, nose rings, lip rings and tail rings to fill a shoebox. Not to mention prosthetic legs, hands, eyes, and everything else. Some looked like weapons, others decoration. A busker a few yards away was playing his leg like a saxophone. A feline femme at a cafe had a seemingly-living snakeskin for a dress. A couple walked past with a matched set of monogrammed shoulder-mounted grenade launchers. A walrus with every inch of her skin tattooed with skulls was arguing over the price of a hotdog with a vendor who was telekinetically controlling a robot duplicate of himself.
"Where to first?" Piffle asked.
Zinc clinked his claws together. "Well, after Fugax and Tuning Fork Guy, I'm actually in the mood to go to sleep on a full belly. That sound good to anyone else? Or you guys wanna explore the nightlife?"
Everyone said an early bedtime sounded fine.
Zinc's ears drooped (he'd been hoping someone would talk him out of it). "Fine. I know a great place to nod off, and there's a decent greasy spoon a block from it. It's on Bigwheel 30 though, so we might as well burn rubber." He held a wrench over his eyes and scanned the horizon. "Looks like the closest slapstation's over there. C'mon!"
No sidewalks here, just glitter-dusted purple carpet. No roads either: there was no room for them. But people got around nonetheless. All the carpetwalks were conveyor belts. Some slow, some medium-speed, some so fast people were having to hold onto their hats and glasses.
With a wave of his wrench, Zinc directed the others to one of the superspeed carpetwalks that went all around Bigwheel One's circumference. He and Junella hopped on like old pros. George took off from Junella's shoulder to practice flying. Toby eyed the rapidly-moving carpet uneasily, then hesitantly took a step. He was very nearly swept off his feet, but managed to wave his arms enough to keep his balance. A second later he heard a 'wumph' and turned to see Piffle having the same trouble. She was flat on her tush, giggling. Toby extended a paw to help her up.
Now that he was on it, it wasn't too bad. Though he could definitely feel the wind whipping at his fur. This had to be fast biking speed at least. Toby ran to catch up with Junella and Zinc who were walking up ahead. He and Piffle fell into step behind them. Zinc once again began rattling off descriptions of people and places of interest, but Toby's attention drifted to the interesting sights which were actually in front of him.
There were definitely way too many things to look at here. A bowling alley with a complex neon animated sign. An ice cream store shaped like a giant cone. An actual Aztec-style pyramid (probably a casino). And did that lioness have three heads? Yes she did. Wow. Oh look, here's a guy wiping the brains of a would-be mugger off the knuckles of his bionic third arm. There's a very drunk man taking a shit by the side of a movie theater while singing at the top of his lungs, and about five tittering schoolgirls taking photos of him.
Toby was also amazed at all the interactions between ferris wheels. He saw people lined up at what must have been a mall district. Several wheels stood side by side along a boardwalk: each spoke on each wheel held a different store, and people would hop on as the different bistros and boutiques passed by. Lots of people were doing that all around him, moving from platform to platform, most of them looking like they'd had plenty of practice. They'd step from one to the next without missing a stride, sometimes while holding a conversation. One even did so while reading a tablet. Toby was surprised to only see one furson fall. He landed in gears below and was mashed to pulp. From the casual way onlookers laughed, it must have been just a daily inconvenience here.
Also, there were lots more of those bright "Luxy Sez" posters everywhere:
FUN IS RISK, RISK IS FUN
FREEDOM IS MORE PRECIOUS THAN WEALTH
IS YOUR SAFETY OFF?
And one that just said, in gargantuan letters,
SMILE!!!
Toby also noticed that there were four guys in fencing masks and hoodies approaching. They didn't seem too threatening. Younger than Toby himself, by the looks of them. He wasn't sure if they were heading towards him specifically or just going in the same direction. 'Probably I'm being paranoid again.'
There was actually a drive-in movie theater here. Well, sort of. No one had cars, but there were quite a lot of bikes, scooters and other compact means of personal transportation. There was even a section for mechanized exoskeletons! 'Cool!' Nearby was a literal beer garden. Alcohols of many colors flowed endlessly from a variety of fountains and waterfalls while Ectopians splashed about in them. People were spraying each other with hoses, cannonballing into pools, or just lying beneath the sprays with their mouths open. Toby even saw an enormous pair of fiberglass breasts with rum blasting out of both nipples. He averted his gaze from that.
"Hey pinkeye!"
Toby turned. It was the fencing mask guys. He wasn't being paranoid after all. He gulped as he realized they were all holding weapons. Two baseball bats. A balisong. One of them had a bunch of nails poking out of his fist! Through the actual skin!
The one in front moved like a leader. "Pajamas, brah? You show up in our city, walkin' around in your faggyjammies? Seriously?"
Toby felt his cheeks get hot. He should have realized, looking as he did, that he might as well just hang a sign on himself saying, 'I Am A Tourist. Please Roll Me.'
The hoodies clustered closer at seeing the mouse show weakness. One yelled out, "Are ya naturally white or did we scare ya that color?" The others snickered.
"He looks like Casper The Friendly Bedwetter!" another said, getting even bigger laughs.
Toby saw Piffle in his peripheral vision looking like she was about to take on all four of the goons. He gave her a 'Not now' look and, keeping his eyes on the leader, walked backwards until he bumped into Junella.
"Watch it!"
"Sorry. Look, there's some gang-type people over here making fun of me. You're my bodyguard, right? Do bodyguard things. Please."
Junella reached over to grab one of Zinc's wrenches to check out the hoodlums in its reflection. She tapped her foot. "Y'know, I could do that. And I will if you want me to. But they look like a pack of pushovers. I'd like to see you stand up to them. Hell, I dare you. It'll be good for you."
Toby was rather petrified by the idea.
But then he recalled Zinc talking about how Ectopians were expected to take responsibility for their own affairs. They weren't supposed to rely on authority for everything. And wasn't that what he'd just done by asking Junella to protect him?
He noticed the four minigangsters didn't look so confident now. Apparently they hadn't realized Toby was part of a group. And four against four was probably too fair a fight for them. They weren't backing down though. All of them still had their eyes on Toby. (Or at least he assumed they did. Those masks were creepy.)
Zinc was still preaching the gospel of Ectopia Cordis, unaware they had company.
"I got your back if you need me," Junella whispered. "C'mon. Assert yourself."
Toby's heart felt like a trapped, fluttering bird. But he chewed his lip a little and reached around his insides for a scrap of confidence he could hold on to.
He narrowed his eyes at the leader and walked towards him.
"Heyyyy!" one said. "Not gonna have your big sister protect you after all?"
"No," Toby replied quietly. He flexed his fingers. "I'd like you to stop bothering me."
The leader pointed a finger in his face. "Us bothering YOU? I think you got it backwards, dickhole. We're just tryna walk here. Maybe you're in OUR way. Ever think of that?" He punctuated his sentence with a sharp poke at Toby's breastbone.
The mouse flinched. Inwardly, his nerves were tugging at his brain to turn and run. But he forced himself to stand still and keep his face calm. "Please don't touch me."
All four of them laughed at this. "Why shouldn't we?" the one with the nail-fist said, waving it at Toby.
The leader was about to deploy another insult, but he made the mistake of snatching up Toby's shirt collar first.
Toby reacted purely by reflex.
In the blink of an eye, his palm opened up. His hand flashed and he was already swinging as his fingers curled around the handle. With the strength of instinctive panic, Toby's hammer arced up and landed one hell of an uppercut on the leader's chin.
The kid landed hard on his back. His mask flew off and was carried away by another walkway. He was revealed to be a shorthair terrier, who stared up at Toby with a look of total shock. Until the pain snapped his focus away.
Toby had his hands over his mouth. "I didn't mean to!" he sputtered.
The terrier's mouth was split. Toby had definitely broken his jawbone in two. Blood trickled onto the dog's gloves.
The leader's friends helped him to his feet. He turned and pointed at Toby. "FUSH YOU! FUSH YOUR FUSHIN' HAMBER, YOU CHEATER!!" He jumped off onto another carpetwalk and his three friends followed. In seconds they were gone from sight, leaving only two round dots of terrier blood on the carpetwalk.
Toby was a little dazed by how easy it had been.
A second later, Piffle was hugging his arm. "Oh Toby, you were wonderful! So heroic!"
He winced at that. He tucked his hammer away, not able to bring himself to check if he'd gotten blood on it too. "That wasn't heroic. I hit him once and he ran off. I feel like a bully, actually."
"Not at all!" Piffle insisted, her ruby eyes shining with concern. "There were four of them! With weapons! And you stood up to all of them, Toby! That was the bravest thing I've ever seen you do."
"Well..." He looked away, really uncomfortable at the compliment. "I mean, I had you guys with me."
"I agree with Madam McPerricone," George said as he landed between Piffle's antennae. "You showed initiative, Sire Toby. You stood your ground in the face of aggression."
Toby felt a vinyl paw rest on his shoulder. "I told you," Junella lilted.
Zinc looked behind him. "...they've got the best pizza anywhere, and... Hey, did something happen?"
***
Zinc added his own congratulations to Toby for standing up to the punks, but Toby just felt woozy about the whole incident. He asked his friends to please drop it. Smashing a stove was one thing. Hitting another living furson was... It was different. Even when he'd gone into frenzy-mode against the Cold Coven, the fact that they were made of ice (and way bigger than him) helped him disassociate from what he was doing. But this time he'd felt the unequivocal impact of steel on bone. His hammer wasn't quite as much a body part as Zinc's wrenches, but Toby could still 'feel' with it to an extent. Remembering the soft goosh of gums splitting and calcium cracking made his skin crawl. He hoped they could get to their destination quickly so he could distract his mind away from all of this.
Distraction came quicker than anticipated. Only a minute or so later, Zinc was introducing their ticket topside. Piffle held Toby's hand this time as they disembarked the carpet, so no one fell over this time. Before them loomed one of Ectopia Cordis' many high speed lifts: what Zinc had called a slapstation. One look and all thoughts of hoodies and hammers was terrified right out of Toby's mind.
It was like a conga line of spatulas, all flipping a playing card higher and higher and higher and higher... People stood in line to jump onto a large rectangular platform that slid out of a slot. A series of ferris wheels with flipper paddles basically spanked the platform up into the air. At the top of its arc, another flipper kept it going. And another. And so on. Toby looked way up and saw that the platform which had just departed had been slapped all the way to Bigwheel One's ceiling, where it sailed through a hole that opened up with split-second timing, presumably into Bigwheel Two.
Toby came very close to crapping his pants. "We're supposed to get ON that!? And let it- There's not even any guardrails!!"
Zinc smiled serenely. "Luxy doesn't believe in guardrails. He says it's better to fall a few times and get used to it." "He cleared his throat and put on his quotation tone. "'The consequences of risk are usually lesser than the consequences of forever avoiding risk."
Toby whimpered.
Piffle patted his paw. "Think of it like a fun scary carnival ride."
"I've never been to a carnival," he whined.
"Oh. Hm. At least I'll be right next to you. If you fall off, I betcha I can catcha before you hit the ground!"
He considered that. At least if Zinc was gonna drag him onto this deadly-looking thingamajig, he had a flying friend by his side in case of emergency. 'Two, actually,' he realized as he looked at George.
Guessing what his master was thinking, George took Piffle's collar gently in his footclaws and flapped his wings. To her whooping delight, he actually got her a few inches off the ground.
"Impressive, Georgie!" she complimented.
George admired his aluminum wings. "Extraordinary! I didn't expect such results. I doubt I could fly you to safety in luxurious comfort, Sire Toby, but I could very likely slow your fall."
"Platform's here!!" Zinc yelled.
An incredibly dour bulldog attendant (who looked like he'd ridden this thing ten thousand times just since his shift started) called out, "All aboard. You have twenty seconds." His voice was the drone of someone who'd said the same words so many times they'd ceased to be anything but meaningless noise.
Piffle had to give Toby a shove to get him onto the orange-carpeted platform. But she didn't get on herself. She waved to him and the others.
"Get over here, mush-head!" Junella shouted at her.
"Nuh-uh!" Piffle replied with a broad grin. "I wanna see if I can race you to the top!"
Zinc reached out for her. "Piff, these things go fast!"
"I do too!" she replied with a raspberry.
"C'mon, babycakes! You're underestima-"
SLAPPP!!!
The platform leapt up with such force that no one was left standing. Except one long-term Ectopian resident, plus the attendant, who casually reached down to grab someone's runaway hat before it tumbled over the edge.
"Great Caesar's ghost!!" Piffle exclaimed. "That thing IS fast! C'mon, George! Let's catch up!" The plucky hamsterfly spread her wings and took off at top speed.
George hopped off her head to fly beside her. Not only to reduce her aerodynamic drag, but because he wanted to see what his new wings could really do. "Shall we make this a three-way race, Madam McPerricone?" he shouted.
"The more the merrier!"
Meanwhile, Toby was clutching Zinc's ankles while trying not to barf every time the platform got thwacked again. Zinc and Junella had both gotten themselves standing by now, and Toby couldn't fathom how that was possible. The city was shooting past in a colorful, sickening blur. He wasn't actually screaming, but that was mostly due to being too frozen with fear to make a sound.
"You'd get used to it if you lived here!" Zinc yelled over the roar of air whooshing past.
There was a brief moment of blackness as they passed through the underside of Bigwheel Two, and again into Three, Four and Five. As Toby had suspected, each mega-slab had specially-angled slots molded into the metal so the platforms could pass through without even scraping the sides. Even despite the fact that each wheel rotated counter to the one below! Toby's mind was not in the mood to appreciate this miracle of timing and engineering, because all he could think about was, 'Twenty-four more of these!!!'
Piffle was giggling so hard she was almost falling behind. Her wings were a glistening blur, pushing her upwards like a speedboat's churning propeller. The lights swirled around her like the biggest kaleidoscope of all time. Piffle had always dearly loved flight, but the Blackdamp's sky was patrolled by many nasty creatures of tooth and claw. There had never been an opportunity to climb so high before.
George was humming a happy tune. Something he'd heard from one of the travelers passing above him during his underground internment. He honestly did not care much for the look of this body, especially the beak, but the wings were magnificent. He was easily keeping up with both Piffle and the platform. His normal bones felt a tiny bit of fatigue on occasion, but this metal didn't seem to. Fantastic! Absolutely marvelous!
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! It never seemed to end! Toby had managed to let go of Zinc's legs, but was clinging to his own for dear life. He was lying on his side on the platform, watching the steel beams and wild colors smear past him. As long as he kept his eyes unfocused, the nausea wasn't too bad. He could actually hear Zinc and Junella talking nonchalantly! Though, a few other people were curled up in the fetal position like he was, and some were even crying hysterically. So he didn't feel too ashamed. The attendant, on the other hand, looked like he was about ready to yawn. "Bigwheel Sixteen. Get ready to depart," he called out tiredly.
At every level, twenty seconds was all people had to get on or off, so they tended to move like lightning when they did. Surprisingly, Toby only saw one furson fall on the entire journey to 30. He'd expected people to go flying at every stop. But at Bigwheel Twelve, someone had been chatting with their friend a little too long and only had one foot on the platform when it achieved lift-off. Toby saw the poor schmuck cartwheel through the air a few times before landing with a splat. He regenerated a new body in a second though, and his old one went zooming away on one of the moving carpetwalks. He was even smiling! Like, 'Gosh, I'm so clumsy! Ha ha!'
Toby had no idea if he could possibly get used to having so little fear of death. He knew he'd already croaked a few times and was still in one piece. But it had been scary and painful and horrible! He remembered tearing himself to pieces back in Amaurosis Fugax... Ugh. He'd almost succeeded in putting that out of his mind.
Maybe everyone started out like him. Maybe everyone struggled with the instinctive fear of termination until it happened so many times it just became boring.
That was actually a really horrible idea the more he thought about it. How many times would one have to die to become desensitized?
On the other hand, he felt a bit better now about the masked guy he'd hit with his hammer. He was probably healed already, or his friends had given him a coup de grâce. So Toby knew he hadn't inflicted any permanent damage. Still, one thing he hoped he'd never become desensitized to was causing pain. He hoped that would always fill him with sick revulsion. 'As it should for anyone,' he thought.
"Bigwheel Thirty. Get ready to depart," droned the bulldog.
Toby blinked. Before he could react, wrench-jaws were clamped onto his shoulders.
"On your feet, comrade! We gotta step lively!" Seeing that his client was too shellshocked to move, when the platform stopped, Zinc yanked him off like luggage.
Toby had seen people in cartoons kiss the ground after an acrophobic experience. He didn't actually do that, but he considered it.
Junella stepped daintily off and tipped the attendant a Luxybuck from her satchel just because he looked so miserable. He seemed genuinely surprised by this.
Toby stood on wobbly legs, bracing himself against Zinc's shoulder. "I never want to go on another one of those ever again," he gurgled.
Zinc was highly amused by how green the mouse was turning. "Sure, pal. Now let's go eat a great big meal! How's pancakes sound? Or fettuccine alfredo?"
"Do you WANT me to puke on your feet!?" Toby gasped.
A flapping of wings caught their attention. "I do hope you feel better soon, Sire Toby."
"George!" Toby hadn't even recognized the little shiny parrot at first. "You got here quick. Nicely done."
"Thank you! I am learning to enjoy this form. And Madam McPerricone should be arriving shortly as well."
Zinc nudged Toby off onto Junella so he could run over to the edge of the wheel. He clamped on for safety and looked over, trying to spot her.
Almost immediately, a little pink nose touched his. "Hiya!"
She was visibly exhausted but also beaming with triumph. Zinc took Piffle's hand and guided her in for a landing. "Crazy, cat! I didn't expect you for another few minutes!"
The panting hamsterfly gulped air until she could respond. "Thanks! I (huff) tried my best! (puff) I was worried I'd pop my (huff) wings off!"
The others gathered around their aeronautic amiga. "Where'd you get the ruby tiara?" Toby asked.
Piffle squeaked happily. "I don't know! I was flying and flying and waving at people, and some of them waved back, and there was this big party, it looked like a wedding, and someone tossed it down to me and waved, and I yelled out THANK YOU!! Isn't it pretty?"
Toby nodded. "It is. It matches your eyes."
She beamed.
Junella poked Zinc. "Are we gonna need to check in at the hotel before it fills up, or can we go straight on to the restaurant?"
"Easy street, Juney. There'll be rooms. Trust me. It's one of my favorite places to flop."
"I'm not entirely sure I can eat. Ever," Toby said, holding his stomach.
Zinc chuckled. "The Gastroworks ain't far from here. We could skip the fast track and walk over. Maybe that'll settle your plumbing?"
Toby burped. "I hope so."
Junella flinched at Zinc. “The Gastroworks? Really? Isn’t that place a little…” She mimed a potbelly with her hands.
He looked right at her. “Clown wrecking ball,” he said firmly. "You promised me a burger."
She immediately conceded. “Right, right, I forgot. Good boys get treats.”
He ‘arf’ed.
As Zinc predicted, spending time on something stationary did help Toby mellow. (Plus they kept the pace slow so Piffle could cool down.) Of course, the carpets weren't actually stationary. Bigwheel Thirty was in constant motion just like everything else in EC. But with only the night sky to compare its slow rotation to, their section felt as much like solid ground as Toby could have hoped for.
This neighborhood was also easier on the eyes. The colors were less loud, for starters. They were currently on one of the Bigwheel's spokes, heading inwards towards the center. Dozens of businesses lined the way. There were seven lanes of carpetwalks too: fastest in the middle, slower on the sides. This area was less... tourist-y than Bigwheel One. It had a kind of retrofuturistic nostalgia feel. The carpetwalks were sky-blue here, with white stars and comets. There were lots of aerodynamic curves to the architecture, with unnecessary-but-cool-looking details like fins and chrome. (Toby briefly shuddered, remembering the rocketship diner back in Stoma. But the fact that he saw people actually exiting these establishments helped a lot.)
A theater marquee was headlining 'BLOODSUCKING GYPSIES'. Toby did not know if this was a movie or a band. 'Or actual bloodsucking gypsies. Why not?' he considered. A nearby laundromat was shaped like a giant front-end washing machine. There was a geodesic dome fried chicken restaurant. Also an indoor shooting range with a big transparent bubble over it that wobbled slightly whenever anyone took a shot. 'Completely soundproofed!' a sign advertised.
Plenty of interesting people to look at too. A wolf with a t-shirt that was somehow made of mirror-cloth. A weasel shooting up with a syringe of liquid electricity. Someone who was just a head stuck on a giant nonev spider body. Two male rabbits, one walking the other on a leash. There was also someone who looked like nothing but bones and gelatinized skin, walking around looking lost and repeating to himself, "I am Skeleton Jelly... I am Skeleton Jelly... I am Skeleton Jelly..."
Toby and the others had to detour around two teenagers having a knife fight while an encircling crowd cheered them on. The combatants didn't seem enraged. In fact, from the way they were chatting back and forth, this seemed like just a friendly competition. Toby heard the fight end behind him, but was too far away by then to see who won.
Up ahead The Gastroworks pounded, belching equal parts noise and smoke into the air. The restaurant was themed like an art-deco chemical refinery. Great big pipes jutted out everywhere. Lots of black, rusty metal. Lots of valves. There was a dance floor up on the roof and Toby could hear the hard rock from a block away.
"Could we, um, eat someplace quieter?" he asked, and wasn't sure if Zinc heard him over the din.
Junella shook her head, telling Toby, "It's no use. He's like a kid in a toy store whenever we come here. If you argue with him, he'll whine and plead and give you the big puppy eyes 'til you just wanna smack him. Better to give in. 'Sides, we'll get some rest afterwards. And if you need to upchuck, they got restrooms."
Zinc was feeling the groove of the place before they'd even reached the doors. "The food here's tip-top," he told the others. "Imaginite's great, but sometimes you want a change, y'know? Taste somethin' beyond your imagination? Something a real chef dug their fingers into?"
Toby stuck his tongue out. Junella made a similar face as they walked through the main entrance and got a look at the wall menu. "Forgot how expensive this place is..."
Inside, it was exactly as head-poundingly loud as Toby had feared. Though at least the atmosphere was welcoming. The tables, chairs, and wall decor all followed the same motif of industrial decay, but everyone seemed to be having a good time.
Zinc was not completely unaware of his client's nausea. He scanned the restaurant for the quietest-looking spot and directed them all to a little table back near the kitchen. It seemed to be the only place not directly under a subwoofer.
George fluttered over to the table and perched on the edge. He swayed in time with the rock music. He sort of liked it. It was pleasingly menacing.
The chairs were made of old copper pipe, upholstered in gasmask-type black rubber. Toby sat down and picked up one of the menus that were already on the table. 'Lots and lots of meat,' he noticed.
As he was guesstimating what he'd most likely be able to keep down, their waiter appeared. He was a very tall bull, and he was extraordinarily naked.
Toby's pink eyes bulged. He gaped for a tenth of a second at the unholy sausage an arm's length away from him, then snapped his attention back to the menu.
"Hello!" the bull hollered, staring straight ahead. "My name is Pancake Food! And I will be your waiter! This evening! Our specials tonight are! Roast dumptruck on fire! Ten pounds of beer! My ass! A pitchfork in your eye! Some soup!!"
Toby was starting to think this was a little insane, even for Phobiopolis. He saw that his companions all had similar looks of, 'What the heck!?'
"Corn dogs on a tractor! On fire! More beer!" the bull continued.
Mr. Pancake Food was suddenly tackled by a female deer half his size. "No, no, no! I thought I threw you out hours ago! Get away from the customers!" She called over her shoulder, "Roscoe!! He got back in again!"
"MORRRE BEEEEEEEER!!!" the bull bellowed as he was hustled out of the restaurant by several bouncers, then bodily thrown into the street. The carpetwalks dragged him slowly away.
The doe, looking both relieved and apologetic, returned to their table. "Ugh! Sorry folks. I'm Ambient and I'll be your REAL waitress. Thank you for not getting up and leaving after that little performance."
"That? I've seen nuttier things in my livingroom," Zinc said casually as he leaned back in his chair.
Toby whispered to Piffle, "I am really glad that guy turned out to be a loony."
"Yes. He was being unsanitary," she agreed. Though she also looked a bit sad to see that foot-long conversation piece go away.
The doe's outfit consisted of a normal server's blouse and skirt, plus a leather apron and thick black glossy gloves. Her hands squeaked when she got out her pen and pad. "Drinks?"
"Lots of ice cold ginger ale," Toby immediately requested. It had calmed his nausea many times before.
"I'd like to try a blueberry daiquiri if you have one," said Piffle.
"More beer!!" Zinc and Junella said simultaneously, then cracked up.
The doe rolled her eyes. "What kind? We got plenty." She waved her hand towards a shelf full of display bottles.
"Any good local brews?" Junella asked Zinc, figuring he'd know.
"Ron's Motor Oil," he recommended immediately. "Just a name, by the way. Not real oil. 'Sgood stuff. It'll pop your ears."
"Sounds good. Four of 'em," she ordered.
"Your friend's been here before, huh?" the doe said as she scribbled it down.
"Used to live here," Zinc said. "Down on Twenty-Six. Water Street and Darroch. Ever been there?"
"Izzat near Luxyland?"
"Yeah! I could see the lights from my window at night!"
She shook her head. "I never go down there. Too noisy."
Considering this doe's place of employment, Zinc tried to figure out the logic of that statement. "Four Oils for me too."
"Allright. You guys know what you wanna eat too or should I give you a minute?"
Zinc gestured at Toby. "My paleface kemosabe's not feeling so good. What've you got that ain't too heavy?"
She smiled consolingly at the mouse. "The venison caesar salad's fabulous. I'd go with that."
Toby blinked. "Venison? That's... deer meat. You're a deer."
"Exactly," she replied. "It's me, in fact."
Toby started to wonder if tonight was just going to be a series of insane waiters. "What!?"
"Oh, don't worry! That's how we make sure most of our meat is ethically butchered: we just shoot the staff when they come in in the morning. Painless, quick, and there you go."
This thing with the eating people again...
Noticing his discomfort, she added, "Or, we have plenty of entrees made from nightmares. So you know you're eating something that deserved it."
"Can I just have some french toast?"
She shrugged. "If that's what you want." She decided not to tell him where the eggs came from.
Junella was eyeing the waitress up and down. "Got any venison steak?"
"Sure do, darlin'. Or did you mean the restaurant? Ha!"
The skunk grinned. "I'll take the biggest cut you got. Medium rare."
Ambient pointed her pen at Piffle. "And you? Nice tiara, by the way."
"Thanks!" She looked over the menu one more time. Everything looked too good to choose! "Ummm... If I get a basket of cactusyote ears, will anyone else eat them?" Zinc and Junella both nodded. "Okay, that. Plus, um..." She vacillated a bit more between the czernoburger or the fried biteranodon before going with the latter.
"Okeydoke. How 'bout you, Mr. Mechanic?" the doe asked Zinc.
He chuckled bashfully. "You guys... ah... you take special orders, right?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Depends how special."
Zinc pointed across the table at Piffle. "Her."
The hamsterfly 'eep'ed.
"You did offer," Zinc reminded. "And I can't get that cookout outta my mind. You were delicious!"
Piffle bounced in her seat at the compliment. "Thanks! If you wanna eat me some more, that's peachy!"
"What'd you have in mind?" the waitress asked Zinc, casually enough to imply that customers requesting other customers was a regular occurrence.
What Zinc really wanted was something like a pulled-Piffle sandwich. But he knew the restaurant wouldn't have time to slow-cook her. "Bacon cheeseburger?"
"You want her to be the bacon too?"
"If you can do that, yeah!" His grinning mouth was already watering.
The doe jotted it down. "It'll be an extra five bux surcharge, plus the house keeps the rest of her meat. Is that okay with everyone?"
Both Piffle and Zinc nodded.
Ambient repeated all their orders to make sure she'd got them right, then reached out to take Piffle's hand and lead her to the kitchen. The blushing hamsterfly looked like she'd been picked to be on a game show. "See you soon!" she called back as she was led away.
Toby mumbled to himself, "I am never gonna eat a normal meal again for the rest of my life, am I?"
"Afterlife," Junella corrected with a smirk.
He gave her a look, then turned to Zinc. "By the way, I just want you to know, the whole idea that they're gonna kill her, and you're gonna eat her... it boggles my mind. But I know that for you, and her, and here, it's normal. So I won't say anything else about it."
Zinc nodded appreciatively. "That's cool of you, Toby. Thanks. And hey, I know I probably should keep you in mind more, being an out-of-towner. It's just..."
"...It's just you really like this city," Toby said understandingly.
"Yeah..." He sighed happily. "I get all juiced up. Fuel-injected!" He got a wistful look in his eyes. "I think about moving back here a lot. But then again, maybe staying away's better, y'know? Like how Christmas comes but once a year 'n all that? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"
"That makes sense," Toby nodded. "Certain things feel more special if you don't-"
All their heads turned at the sudden POW that came from the kitchen. Muffled with a silencer, but still louder than the background music.
"Was that...?" Toby asked.
A few moments later, Piffle came bounding through the double doors. "Back again!" she sang out.
She pranced over to the table and gave Toby a smooch between his ears to let him know she was okay. "That was fun! They had me stand on one of these rubber mats with a bullseye behind it. Then I just closed my eyes and, kablammo! They dragged my other body off to get foodificated and told me I could sit back down." George pulled her chair out for her with his beak. "Thank you, kind sir."
"Quite welcome, Madam McPerricone."
"They even gave me a ten-percent-off coupon if we wanna buy anything more of me!"
***
The ginger ale helped a lot. Once he'd gotten off some heavyweight-class burps, Toby's stomach felt a lot better. He even eventually got used to the loud music. And the toast was fantastic. Just the kind of simple-yet-comforting fare he needed. The others' meals all looked a tad strange, but he had to admit they smelled incredible. Smoky, sizzling hot slabs of deer, hamsterfly, and nightmare meat.
Toby realized that in the last few days, he'd probably had more menu options, and been surrounded by better food smells, than in his whole past year of life on Earth. He thought about his usual meals of weak soup and bland sandwiches. How could he have gotten so used to eating that day after day?
Toby asked Piffle what exactly biteranodons were and she said all she knew was that they sounded tasty on the menu. When the cactusyote ears arrived, Toby hesitantly tried one. Followed immediately by another. They were kinda like if avocado and ham came from the same lifeform. And they went great with salsa.
This led to an interesting discussion with George about what the waitress had said regarding nightmares. Toby remarked that it seemed kind of unfair to say they "deserved" to be killed for food. Though to his surprise, George actually agreed with her. He replied that, while he admired Toby's consideration, he held no illusions about his kind. In all his years, he'd never come across another construct like himself that was capable of rational thought or selflessness. He acknowledged that he might be the only one. All the rest were literally less than animals, since even the most vicious of beasts are primarily concerned with survival and reproduction. Nightmare constructs existed only to create fear. So in George's opinion, if anyone deserved to be temporarily irritated by being shot and served, they did.
Meanwhile, Junella and Zinc both bulldozed through their beers until they got quite tiddly indeed. Junella was even singing along with the rock music, and, amazingly, looked like she was enjoying herself. Zinc wolfed down his Piffleburger, complimenting her vociferously the whole time. She was tickled pink. She even tried a bite of herself as bacon. Thinking about this too hard made Toby nearly have to go visit the bathroom for a while.
Zinc took off the instant he finished his burger, not saying where he was going, and was back in about four minutes. He refused to say a word more about it. Junella was too busy serenading herself to notice his impish grin.
When the meal ended, Toby was amazed to find that he was still hungry. He asked if anyone minded him getting dessert. Junella said she was paying and had plenty. So Toby made the unprecedented decision to willingly try something he'd never eaten before. He'd always wondered what flan was, and was happy to discover it was nothing scarier than really good caramel custard.
When the bill came, a tipsy Junella rustled around in her satchel and pulled out a literal fistful of cash. Toby noticed the way some of the other diners were staring and hoped his group wasn't due for a mugging in the parking lot. The money itself was interesting. Bills of bright yellow, pink, purple and orange, each one with Luxy Bleeder's leering face on it. Toby remembered wondering about this earlier, and asked Junella how they kept people from just whipping up as many bux as they wanted from imaginite or dumbfounding. Zinc burst in with a yeast-scented bark of laughter, saying that, allegedly, Luxy could always tell the real thing by the smell. Rumor had it he rubbed each bill in his armpits before they went into circulation. (Toby hoped this was not true.) And as far as counterfeiters, Zinc said they'd had exactly one case so far. Luxy'd caught the guy and put him in an endless loop; forever regenerating into a new body every five seconds. Eternally copied. Then he was put on display as an art installation and Luxy said that anyone who wanted to take his place was welcome to try committing the same crime. The expression on the unfortunate criminal's face had so far proven a perfect deterrent.
Junella and Zinc debated getting even more sloshed, but decided against it since their teetotaling client looked like he wanted to sleep sometime soon. She laid down a generous tip for Ambient and headed for the front register. Zinc, meanwhile, sauntered over to a bristly fellow he'd overheard talking with his mates a little too eagerly about Junella's satchel. When the 'roo turned around, Zinc literally clamped his muzzle shut with a crunch and a muffled scream. "I'm drunk, not deaf, ya nosebleed," Zinc said before letting go. The others around the table had looks of, 'We weren't planning a robbery! Us? Oh no siree!!'
Back outside on the starry walks of Bigwheel Thirty, Toby appreciated the decrease in background noise. He was suddenly feeling drowsy and asked how far away the hotel was. Zinc said it was close enough they didn't even need to walk. When they all stepped onto a medium-speed carpetwalk, it wasn't two minutes later that they found themselves in front of Sawbuck's Sleepeteria.
It was a very large brick windowless box that looked more like a meat packing plant than a hotel. But Zinc swore by the place. "You can't get any cozier! You'll sleep like a baby lamb soaked in chloroform!"
Before they walked in, Toby saw another of those Luxy Sez signs:
AGAINST THE NIGHT WE ARE UNITED
He kinda liked that one.
They walked up the steps into a lobby that looked sleazy precisely because of how hard it was trying not to. Everything was faux. The wall art was poster prints in gold-painted plastic frames. The aquarium had more decorations than fish. In one corner stood the tiniest concrete waterfall money could buy.
Toby furrowed his brow as he noticed the large unknown structure to his left. It looked like the kind of tubular tracks you'd slide torpedoes into. But these were pointed up into the ceiling. Was there some kind of artillery cannon on the roof?
Zinc skipped to the front desk and bopped the bell. "Roosman, chief, ya in there!?" he yelled. Turning to the others he said, "This is a real high quality joint. Part of a franchise, actually. Not many businesses get that big in Phobiopolis, you can imagine."
The door behind the desk opened onto a typical little manager's office. Toby heard a TV making soccer match sounds and the skreek of a chair moving. He was not expecting a sentient cloud of ash to emerge, but it did.
Like what might puff out of a volcano but tinier, it was about six feet in diameter and a swirling salt-and-pepper grey. Somewhere deep in the center mass, two smoky orbs glowed like headlights. The cloud floated towards Zinc and peered at him. "...Zinc, was it? I know your face, young man, but my memory... Not so hot."
"Foggy?" Zinc supplied.
"Eyyyy, watch it with the puns, you."
Toby was sort of proud of himself for only being mildly startled when something that would have ordinarily sent him screaming in the opposite direction appeared in front of him. He was starting to get used to the idea that in Phobiopolis, appearance alone did not determine character. This cloudy fellow's voice was as mild-mannered as plain cream cheese.
Mr. Roosman reached out a pseudopod of ash to pick up a pair of eyeglasses from the counter, then arranged them into himself approximately in the area of his eyes. No one knew how they stayed there. "Party of four?"
Junella pointed to her "parrot".
"Pets stay free. Especially mechanical ones that the maids won't have to clean up after," he replied with a chortle. Then he looked over the computerized hotel layout. "Pairs or separate?"
Everyone looked at each other. They were all about to speak ot once when Zinc butted in and put his wrencharm around Junella. "We'll take two pair, garçon."
Junella gave him a questioning look.
"Hey, it'll save money!"
She considered that.
Piffle looked over at Toby. "I don't mind bunking up together."
The mouse turned a bit pink.
"That's just fine," Mr. Roosman said. "I got two doubles right beside each other, with a door between if you need it. S'allright?"
"Perfecto," Zinc grinned.
"Just the one night?"
"Uh... that's up in the air. We'll see."
Roosman made a note of that. "Understoodo. I'll put you down for one day, but if you sleep in past eleven the charge'll be for two. Each of our suites has an automat for meals. Champagne is available, as well as premium film entertainment."
The general cheap atmosphere of the place, plus what the manager had just said, finally added up in Junella's somewhat-inebriated mind. She whapped her partner's arm. "Zinc, dammit, did you take us to a love hotel!?"
He snickered. "Hey, I wasn't bullshittin' about the beds. You can't get comfier anywhere!"
She hooked a finger into his collar. "You brought our client to a make out pit! And that doesn't seem the teeniest bit unprofessional to you!?"
Zinc bit his lip to keep from giggling harder.
Junella sighed.
Roosman kept diplomatically silent.
"To be honest, I really don't mind," Toby piped up. "I'm full and dozy and I just want a place to lie down."
Zinc gave Junella a 'See? Everything's fine!' look.
She reached up and gave his nose a pinch. Then she rustled around in her bag for some Luxybux.
Roosman rang them up and 'stepped' out from behind the counter. "Right this way, folks!" He gestured towards the tube-booth Toby had noticed before.
"Are we gonna get vacuumed to our rooms?" Piffle realized, sounding delighted by the novelty of it.
"A cigar for the lady!" Roosman said. He sounded like he was smiling but it was impossible to tell. "Mr. Sawbuck was inspired by old-fashioned mailing tubes and Japanese capsule hotels, and had the vision to combine the efficiency of both. You shall be whisked to your luxurious accommodations on a cushion of air. Carried aloft upon the breath of the gods!" He stood by the controls and beckoned the quintet to enter.
Junella leaned forward as far as she could without actually stepping inside, trying to see up the tube. "This thing ain't gonna bounce me around like a tennis ball, izzit?"
"Nah, nah," Zinc said. "You're thinkin' of those cheap ripoff places that don't got the pneumatics worked out right. Some of them, you can see bloodstains all up 'n down the insides of the tubes. But here? They invented and perfected it. Nothin' to worry about!"
"You fill me to the brim with confidence," she deadpanned.
"Well I'm not scared!" Piffle announced, leaping into the tube-area. "Fire away!"
"Bon soir, miss!" Roosman said as his pseudopod sent her on her way.
FOOMP! A transparent shield came down and Piffle was sucked out of sight; all in less than a second.
"If you're staying with her, you're next, young man," Roosman said to Toby.
The clear shield rose like an opening mouth. Toby held his tail in his hands and gave a sickly little nod to the ash cloud. 'I've been through worse,' he told himself. He managed to keep himself from saying anything as he turned around, closed his eyes, and hoped he was positioned correctly.
FOOMP!
It was over so quick Toby didn't have time to appreciate the fact that he'd actually kind of enjoyed that.
It was as if a huge magnet had locked onto him and pulled him through a twisting, brain-shaped maze of transparent tubes. He hadn't seen more than a blur, but it looked like there was miles of the stuff. Toby was pulled this way and that, but the curves were gentle enough not to give him whiplash. And only a few seconds later, he was popping out of a hatch onto a vinyl gym mat.
"Hiya, Toby!" Piffle said. "Have a nice trip?"
"I think I actually did. My head's a little spinny and my stomach didn't like it, but otherwise, yeah, I'd do that again."
"Glad to hear it!" She started pulling off her blouse and Toby looked quickly away.
The room they were in was so small it really should have been called a carton. The whole thing was only about the width of a queen bed, with a ceiling so low Toby's ears brushed against it while kneeling. There was the squashy, creaky landing pad area and then the bed itself. Or rather, the part of the room that was a bed. It looked like someone had upholstered the inside of a refrigerator box entirely in hot pink fur. Like being at a flamingo convention. There was an abundance of pillows in various shapes, and dim, warm lights in each corner. No windows, but the 'door' to the next room was a sliding panel just big enough for someone to crawl through on all fours. In the landing pad area there was a glass door set in the wall with a light inside and a touchscreen showing various snacks and drinks. 'Sent by tube too, probably,' Toby guessed. By the hatch were buttons for 'restrooms', 'lobby', 'pool', or you could select someone else's room number with a password.
Piffle had changed into a petite sea-green nightie by the time they heard a soft thump from next door and some musical curse words.
"Sounds like Zinc finally convinced Junella," Piffle chuckled. She crawled over to the 'door' and gave it a knock. "You settling in okay over there?"
The panel opened up and a skunk muzzle poked through. "I don't know. I think I just got swallowed by Valentines Day."
A moment later a rising whoop signaled the approach of Zinc. He tumbled through the hatch with a lot of clanging. "Wooo-wee! That's half the reason I love coming here! They should build a really big one and put it in Luxyland and charge tickets!"
A smaller foomp heralded George's arrival as well. There was a metallic-sounding flap of wings as he got himself on his feet. "Gadzooks! That was somewhat delightful!"
"It wasn't too bad," was as close as Junella came to admitting she'd enjoyed it too.
Piffle was running her paws over the expanse of pink faux fur, loving every inch of it. She bunched up a double handful to rub her muzzle in. "Mmmmm!"
Toby crawled over too. He pushed against the mattress first though, just in case it was a waterbed. Nope: solid footing. And the pink stuff really was incredibly soft.
"What time do you wanna get up tomorrow, Junella?" Piffle asked through the hole.
"Whenever," she replied. She uncoiled her scarf and made a pillow from it. "We've got this one chance to sleep in, might as well take it. Though Toby, if you wake up first, don't feel bad about getting us up too. You're the client after all."
"Allright, thanks."
Zinc had his wrenches, skullcap and clothes off in record time. In just his undies, he wriggled under the covers. "Well, goodnight everyone! See ya tomorrow! Sleep tight, Juney!" And with that, he abruptly switched off the lights with his nose.
"Hey!" she grumbled. She didn't see what the big rush was. "G'night you two," she sang quietly as she settled in. She left the panel open a crack, just in case of emergency.
There was a brief moment of quiet.
And then...
"What is that?" came from the next room. "What IS that!?"
Toby froze. Anything bad enough to make Junella's voice quiver with panic was not something he wanted to deal with.
"AAAAAAAAIIGHHH!!! JESUS CHRIST, ZINC! IT'S GOT ME, IT'S GOT ME!!" The skunk's screams probably woke up half the hotel.
"I shall save you, Madam Brox!!" George cried out.
Toby and Piffle exchanged glances of alarm and were just about to pull the panel open and see if they could help when Zinc began laughing his ass off.
"ZINC!! What th- Oh you MOTHERFUCKER!! I thought she'd stayed in the car!"
Zinc continued hooting. They could hear him gasping for air.
Piffle banged on the panel. "Are you two okay in there?"
It slid open. "This diabolical sonovabitch went out during dinner and bought this to put on my side of the bed!" Junella tossed something through.
Toby looked over Piffle's shoulder. It was a plastic baby doll.
"I take it there is no actual danger and I have been roused to action without reason," George huffed.
Zinc tried to stop laughing long enough to speak. "I just- hee hee! just wish the l-l-lights weren't off, so I could have s-s-seen your f-face!! HA!"
A black vinyl arm poked through the panel. "Gimme that back so I can beat him with it."
Grinning, Piffle did. A moment later came the sounds of bonking.
"Yowch! Tee hee! Ease up, Junebug!"
To Toby's surprise, he heard Junella chuckle too. "Allright, yeah. You got me. You got me good. Fair enough, ya bastard. Now do you have any more of those or can I actually get to sleep?"
"That's it, I'm done. Honest injun. Goodnight everyone! ...Again!"
"Actually," Junella realized, "I just remembered I wanted a bubble bath before bed. The hot tub downstairs oughtta be close enough." They heard her skootching her way across the pink fur. "I'll be back later. I'll try not to disturb you if you're sleepin', Zinc. Or maybe I will. Maybe I'll go out and buy me a rubber clown mask."
"I'd deserve it," he admitted.
She said her goodnights to everyone again, then they heard the foomp of her heading out.
Toby had been rather rattled by the sheer volume of Junella's scream, but was chuckling now. Especially knowing that the fearless Junella Brox did have at least one thing that made her jump. "I wonder what Doll would think of that? I don't know if she'd be insulted or amused."
"Prolly the second one, what with Junella being so mean to her all the time. I'll be sure to tell her when I let her out." Piffle rubbed her tummy, able to somehow sense her friend safe within her. It was interesting to think that Doll was inside of a sleigh, inside of a pill, inside of her.
The pink fur blanket enveloped the whole sleeping area, but Piffle located the edge of the blankets where she could slide in. She cooed happily at the cool, silky sheets. "Swanky! Hop on in, Toby. And don't forget your slippers!"
He puzzled at that, but then remembered Zinc warning him the other day about foot-drilling bugs ('Geez, was that only one day ago!?'). He noticed a pocket beside the bed with a complimentary pair. Basically hairnets for paws. He put them on. "You'd think with the rooms pneumatically sealed off it'd keep the bugs out."
"It prolly does, but most people would rather be safe than sorry. Me? I don't mind them. If dem bugziz get me in the night, it just means I'll have tickly dreams!" she giggled.
Toby found himself simultaneously befuddled by, and admiring of, her ability to not let this realm's constant threats get to her. He pulled himself into the pita-like bed and piled up pillows behind him. "Piffle... do you mind if I ask you something?"
She rolled over onto her elbow. "Go right ahead."
He stared up at the pink ceiling. "I've been thinking about this off-and-on for a while now. Maybe you don't have an answer, and that's okay, but..." He took a deep breath. "Piffle, is there any safe place in Phobiopolis? At all?"
She wasn't sure what he meant by that. Her antennae bobbed. "Coryza's pretty safe."
"Yeah, but only 'cause they keep it under lock and key at night. I mean like, is there any place without all the foot bugs and runbugs and guys in fencing masks and killer clowns and all that? Is there anyplace where you can just relax?"
She thought about that, and could empathize with why it was weighing on his mind. "Well, I haven't traveled everywhere, so there might be. But honestly I don't think there is. I don't think there's anyplace that's completely, totally, ab-so-lute-ly safe from everything."
He sighed.
"...On the other hand, I don't think there was anyplace like that on Earth either."
That gave him pause.
She laid back against her pillow, stretching her back, feeling the edges of her exoskeletal sections rub together. She put her arms behind her head. "Actually, I was thinkin' about Doll just now. I know she's inside me, and she's safe. And I don't have to worry about her floating around with my food and getting digested. I don't know how it works, 'specially since the restaurant took my other body away, but I know you can sometimes 'put things away' and it's not like regular eating. It's more like... Like when you don't have a pocket so you dumbfound something. Where does it go? As far as I know, into a kind of limbo. So it's safe there. That's about as close as you can get to what you're asking, Toby. But I don't think it's a place. I don't think you can be awake there."
He'd felt slightly hopeful for a bit, but then that feeling capsized. What good was being safe if you were unaware of it?
"Other than that, well... I think I know what you're feeling, Toby. I guess I got over that a long time ago and don't think about it anymore. But I remember what it was like, feeling scairt and confused all the time." She realized something. "...And there is one other place you can go to get away from that."
"Where?"
She blushed. "Your bellybutton."
"'Scuse me?"
She bit her lip to keep from giggling and scooted a little closer so she could whisper. "It's the kind of thing that's not discussed in polite company. But if you're ever too over-frazzled, you can curl up in a little ball, just like an armadillo. You'll dive right into your tummy-button and end up inside your mind. You can make it look like whatever you want. And while you're in there, nothing can hurt you. It's like when I was little and I'd pull the blankets over my head to keep out the nightmares."
"That actually works?" He marveled at the idea, and idly poked his own navel. "So what's the catch? Why doesn't everyone who ends up here just curl up and stay safe forever?"
"There's a lot of reasons!" Piffle immediately replied. "For one, you can't stay there forever. It's like holding your breath. Sort of. Or like how you can only sit cross-legged for so long before your feet fall asleep."
"Oh." That felt like it made sense.
"For two, it's considered rude. I'm not sure why. But if you ball up around other people, that's like picking your nose or scratching your tushie."
"Weird."
"And for three..." She reached across the pink fur to pat his paw. "Don't you think you'd get lonely if you just stayed inside all the time all by yourself?"
He hadn't even thought of that.
And while Piffle made some good points, this still sounded like something Toby definitely wanted to explore. "Do you mind if I try it now? Just to see if I can?" he asked.
She nodded. "I'll just become real interested in this wall over here," she said as she turned around. "La-de-dah, tum-te-tum..."
Toby pulled up his pajama top. He stuck his finger in his bellybutton. He leaned in closer. Nothing was happening. "Are you sure about this? You're not just telling me strange things to see if I'll believe in them, like Zinc did?"
"Nope! Promise! You hafta kinda think real hard about it and make like you're diving into a pool," she replied with her back turned. "Here I am, just staring at a wall..."
Toby wasn't sure how to do that from a sitting position. But he put his hands together, pointed them at his bellybutton, lunged forward-
And suddenly was in his bedroom.
"What the...!?"
Toby's head swiveled all around. The pink fur room was gone. Piffle was gone. Phobiopolis was gone. He was standing in the middle of his old room at home, on Earth. There was his bed and his bookshelves. She'd said he would go inside his own mind. And of course, what other place would his mind immediately think of?
Before he could take in the visual details, his nose wrinkled as the memory of this room's scent came back to him. Within a few seconds it was unbearable. That clinging, cloying, toxic odor of ten thousand layers of artificiality. Sprays and creams and cleaning chemicals. Antibacterial everything. And beneath it, like an alligator swimming just below the surface, was the stench of his own sickness. His sweat, his dried pus, his old vomit.
He turned and saw, on the wall beside his bed, the long stains from innumerable times where he'd wiped discharge off his fingers.
He had to get out of here.
And just like sitting up straight, he was.
Piffle had been a good girl and only peeked once at her friend all rolled up into a perfect furry sphere. But when she heard him jerk back to reality, she turned around and was confused by the horror on his face. "Toby? What happened!? Whenever I do that I automatically go to a happy place!"
The mouse stared off into space, breathing hard through his nose to get the smell out. This canned hotel air was lilacs and cherries in comparison.
"It was a place I thought was happy... But it wasn't. It wasn't..." he said vacantly. "I can't believe I ever got used to that..."
Piffle sat up to sit beside him. "I'm here now, Toby. Do you want to talk about it?"
"N-no... Not yet. Maybe. Sometime." He wasn't even looking at her. The very idea that he had once spent days in that miasma, surrounded by it... that noxious fog permeating his skin and clothing... How?
She intuited that this was something too personal for him to let her help with, much as she hated seeing his pained expression. She wished she could just hug him all better. Instead, she patted his leg and crawled back to her side of the bed. "Do you want to just go to sleep now, Toby?"
Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah, I think I do. Sorry I spaced out there, I just..." He couldn't even begin to describe it. Instead he pulled the covers over him and turned towards the wall.
The room was dead silent now, except for the faint whisper of Zinc's breathing next door. Piffle reached up to turn off the light. Then she pulled the blanket up to her face.
From behind her came a faint mumble. "Thank you for being helpful, Piffle."
"You're welcome, Toby," she said back. "I'll be here in the morning if you need me."
"Thank you," he said again.
Piffle got comfortable and found a small smile to fall asleep on. Even if Toby wasn't ready now, she felt good knowing she'd be there when he would be.
*****