Jeff Noon - Vurt

"What's that?" I asked.

"I saw you there, at the Slithy Tove."

The Game Cat? You saw him?"

"Oh yes. I can see him. When Geoffrey wants me to see, that is."

"Geoffrey?"

"Yeah. His real name. The Cat's best kept secret. Call him Geoffrey next time. He'll most probably kill you." I could hear Tristan laughing as I clenched my hands around the wheel rim, driving on air, dark air. "Did he mention that I was his brother?"

"Yes. I didn't believe it at first. But I've seen him since, in the Tapewormer."

"What did you talk about?"

"He said that he felt for you. That he -"

Tristan exploded. "That man should stay out of my life!" His voice was driven by fire. "That fucker only brings grief!"

"Sure, sure… whatever, Trist…" I said, cooling it down some.

We drove forward in silence for a few minutes.

"You want to talk?" I asked. Tristan turned his face to the side window, watching the black fields go by. "About how come you lost each other?"

When he spoke, it was coming from the depths, and he couldn't stand to look at me. "He went too far."

"What's that mean?"

"He went too far for me. So far, I couldn't follow. You got that?"

"I got it."

Got nothing at all. Except that Tristan wanted to talk about Game Cat, about Beetle, anything to stop the thoughts of Suze.

The lost love.

"You've got some dog in you, haven't you?" I said.

"Just a trace. Enough to know."

"You ever made love to one?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"You ever made love to a dog, Trist?" I asked.

"Years ago," he answered. "But then I found the Suze, and nothing else came near."

I knew that feeling.

Then he went all quiet on me, as he lit up a Haze joint, wreathing himself in honey smoke. Then he said this to me, "Suze was expecting."

At first I thought he was saying that Suze expected to die, but then I got the real story. "Christ! Trist!" I said. "A baby? You had a baby on the way?"

"Listen to me," he stated. "I'm alive for one thing."

"You're going after Murdoch?"

"I don't have to, Scribble. She's coming after you."

"What's in the bag, Trist?"

"My hair."

Figures.

"You got bit by a snake, yeah?" he asked.

"I got bit."

"So you got some Vurt in you?"

"So they say."

"Geoffrey told you?"

"The Cat says lots of things," I answered. "I don't know how much to believe."

"Believe everything. He's been all the way."

"Meaning?"

"Geoffrey took a bite too. From a snake."

"He's got some heavy Vurt in him, no argument."

"Wasn't just any ordinary snake bit him."

"No?"

"Not at all."

"Tell me about it."

Tristan turned back to the window, so I let the van drift on easy, secure in Baby Racer's arms. A night bird flew across the headlights; a sudden vision of life, moving on black wings. "It happened years ago," Tristan said, his voice coming on like a slow recording. "When we were both young, me younger than him, but both of us hooked on the feathers. Couldn't stop taking them. You know that now I'm totally opposed to it, but there's a reason for that."

"Geoffrey's the reason?"

"He was into it more than I was. But I was looking up to him so much, I couldn't stop following. He would go out on bad journeys, down to the low life, buying up the blackest Vurts he could find. One day he found a Yellow. Our first Yellow." Tristan paused for a moment. "He paid heavily for it."

"I thought you couldn't buy them?"

"Depends what you pay with."

I let that settle in my mind. Depends what you pay with.

"I was scared of the feather," Tristan continued. "We carried it back home, and Geoffrey was so excited. Our parents were asleep by then, so we had the room to ourselves. I was young and in awe of my brother, so I took the feather with him. But I was scared, so scared."

"Which feather was it?"

"Takshaka. You know, where the dreamsnakes come from?"

I didn't reply, my eyes on the road.

"You ever done Takshaka, Scribble?" he asked.

"Yeah. I've done it."

"Really?"

"No. Not really. Only in the Tapewormer. I went Meta."

"That's nothing. That's just a joke Yellow. Takshaka kills. It's famous for it. I was scared but we went in anyway. Geoffrey got bitten. Not by any normal snake. Oh no, not my brother. Takshaka himself, the king of the snakes, sank two fangs into his arm."

"That should've killed him."

"Geoffrey took it on board… worshipped the wound. Fed it on bones and flesh. I think he fell in love with the poison inside him, and it fell in love with him. Maybe one in a thousand is capable of this. The Game Cat talks about it one time, in the magazine." I caught on to the change of name. "He says that some flesh is sacred to the Vurt; it can live with it. It's like a kind of marriage. So he says. Whatever… my brother got addicted then. Craving more. Having once tasted… well, you know how it is."

"I know."

"He was seeking out more and more dangerous feathers. I think he went too far. I had to fight back."

"What did he find?" I asked.

"It was too much for me, Scribble. What my brother was doing… I had to take measures."

"What happened?"

"He found Curious Yellow."

Oh Christ!

The van skidded on a wet bend and I could feel paintwork being peeled off, as the struts of a fence clawed into us. Seconds of my life went by in a rush as I clamped down on the wheel, spinning it. Did no use. I was totally alone and human. Human! The passengers from the back were calling out and cursing me, and then the dogs joined in, all three of them. Sounded like a zoo on wheels. I could see the trees sliding near as we hit a rock, or something, and then this big oak trunk in the headlights, dancing, straight in front of us. Seemed like the whole world was screaming, me with it, and the Beetle singing along from behind, his colours exploding. But then the Vurt came down, hard! and the wheel seemed to know where to go under my fingers until I was rolling once again, cool and easy does it, over the black roads.

"Nice driving, Scribble," Tristan said.

I was taking in massive breaths of air, feeling the sweat all over my skin. Mandy was calling me all the bad names she could think of. Twinkle was adding some of her own. The Bee was still singing, and the dogs were whimpering along with all three of them.

"Christ, Tristan… don't do that!" I could hardly get the words out, but Tristan had sat through it all, like he was stone cold, set on a fixed path.

"So we did the Curious," he was saying, but it took some yards of easy driving before I could really get my grip on what he was saying.

"Was this inside English Voodoo?" I asked.

"Yes. He forced me into doing it."

"What happened?" Knowing full well…

Tristan's slow, sad voice; "I came down alone."

"Curious got him?"

"I think he let it. You know what I'm saying, Scribb? I think he wanted to stay there. It was the worst thing I'd ever experienced, but for Geoffrey, with all that Vurt in him anyway, from Takshaka… I think he preferred it there. He felt… I don't know how to put this… he felt at home. Something like that."

"What's Curious like?" I needed to know.

"It's the past, your past… but magnified, all the bad things magnified. The good things vanish."

"How did you get out?"

"The Cat threw me out. He was glowing with power, messing with the feathers, even in the pain."

"Why do people want to do this?" I asked. "Go through all that pain?"

"Because they're crazy. They think it's going to bring them knowledge. It's like rites of passage, all that crap. All that Queen Hobart rubbish."

"What is Hobart?"

"Don't get involved, Scribb. Some crazy religion, that's all. They think Vurt's more than it is, you know? Like it's some higher way, or something. It's not. Vurt is just collective dreamings. That's all. Christ! Isn't that enough for them?"