Jeff Noon - Vurt

"Scribble, my dear… even at that age I was a master of the feathers. You haven't even started yet."

"I want Desdemona back!"

"How very poetic."

"You bastard!" My hands were twisted up into tight fists.

EVERYTHING OKAY IN THERE, GAME CAT, SIR?

Sniffing General's voice coming over the intercom. The Cat nodded at me as he pressed the speak button and I felt something pulling me back, the Cat's room dissolving around me, intense pain in the body. "Cat! Please!" I cried out.

Game Cat smiled, and the pain eased slightly.

"Everything's fine in here, General," the Cat was answering. Thank you. We're just discussing possible gifts that the visitor might be willing to donate. Get back to your ledgers, General."

"I will."

The Cat closed off the connection and then looked up at me. With a heavy sigh he raised himself out of the wicker chair, and walked over to an antique wooden cabinet. There were five drawers in it, one above the other. He pulled open the top drawer. "This is my collection," he said.

I walked over to the cabinet. I was standing by his side, gazing down into the drawer. It was divided into sections, each section separated by a panel of wood, each section lined with purple velvet. It was a series of nests, and in each nest lay a feather. In this first drawer all the feathers were blue, various shades of. It was like looking into the sky, seeing the glints of the day there. Along the edge of each section, embossed on a brass plate, were the names of the feathers. And, these feathers being blue only, I knew most of the names by heart, having travelled them.

"People come to me for feathers," the Cat said. "Special ones. Dreams. Dreams that they think will save them. They give me gifts in return."

He closed the top drawer, and opened the second. Black feathers lay glistening there. Like looking into the night. Closed that one, opened the third. Pink feathers. Like looking into the flesh. The names brought back some sweet memories.

"Of course this is only a small part of my collection. The major part I have in storage. You are seeing only the current favourites."

He opened the fourth drawer. Silver feathers. Like looking into the moon. One of the sections was empty. The name read Sniffing General.

"I'll have to ask for the Sniffer back, I'm afraid, when you've finished with it." He closed the fourth layer, opened the last

Gold.

My eyes dancing, catching the waves.

Golden feathers.

Like looking into the sun.

Their very names alone bringing a dream to my head.

"Yes, that's how powerful they are," the Cat told me. I've heard that some people take them anally. Of course one doesn't like to think about such things."

Only two of the names meant anything to me: Curious and Takshaka.

The section marked Curious was empty.

"You had Curious Yellow?" I asked.

"I am a keeper of the feathers. Of course I had a copy."

"Where is it?"

Game Cat closed the drawer. Tristan stole it from me," he said. "Didn't you know that?"

"No. I…"

"It's quite obvious," the Cat was saying. "Tristan didn't like what Curious had done to me. My brother is a very conservative man, Scribble. You must understand this. Despite the hair and the Haze, and the guns… he is the white sheep of the family. He had the impression that he was losing me, to the Vurt. In fact it was the other way around; I was losing him to the pure world."

"He wasn't that pure," I said. "He told me that he had some dog in him."

"Oh yes. Just a trace. I'm the same. Our great grandfather was an Alsatian. Of course it's very far down in the blood stream by now. Sometimes I like to chew on a bone, more than is governed by dinner party etiquette. That's about the extent of it, thank God. And of course he's very jealous of me, being at a lower level, you see? Stuck to the real."

"Tristan stole Curious Yellow?"

"He did."

"Where is it now?"

"I have the impression that he wanted to save the whole world from it. He is an innocent."

"I just want to know where it is."

"He threw it away."

"Where?"

"You saw him do it."

"What?"

"You were there."

"Stop this -"

"You think that I'm not helping you. In fact I'm doing all that I can."

I looked deep into the Game Cat's eyes, and saw the answer there. It was way deep, but I managed it. Because really it was inside of me, and that was where I had to look. "My God!"

"Indeed. You were very close."

He smiled and nodded. "You will come back to me, won't you, young man? This is your proper place. Really, you are a natural."

"I would prefer the real world, and Desdemona."

"Ah yes. The draw of the physical. Of course I could come down and give you a hand now and again. My brother… you understand?"

"No. This is mine. No feathers. Nothing. Don't even consider it, Cat." I was heading for the door.

"One last thing, young man," the Cat said.

"Yeah, I know. Be careful. Be very, very careful."

"You got me, my kittling."

There are only FIVE PURE MODES OF BEING. And all are equal in value. To be pure is good, it leads to a good life. But who wants a good life? Only the lonely. And so therefore we have the FIVE LEVELS OF BEING. And each layer is better than the one before. The deeper, the sweeter, the more completer.

FIRST LEVEL is the purest level. Where all things are separate and so very unsexy. There are only five pure states and their names are Dog, Human, Robo, Shadow, and Vurt.

SECOND LEVEL is the next step. It happens because the modes want to have sex, with other modes, different modes, otherness modes. Except they don't always use Vaz, so these babies get born: Second level creatures. Or sometimes the modes get grafted together. There are many ways to change. Whatever, Second level beings go one better in the knowledge stakes. There are ten Second level beings and their names are Dogman, Robodog, Dogshadow, Vurtdog, Roboman, Shadowman, Vurtman, Roboshad, Robovurt, and Shadowvurt. Chances are you, the reader, are a Second level being of some kind.

But you just want to have sex, right? Which delivers the next level, the THIRD LEVEL, of which there are ten modes also; Robodogman, Shadowmandog, Dogmanvurt, Robodogshadow, Robovurtdog, Shadowvurtdog, Robomanshad, Robomanvurt, Shadowmanvurt, and Roboshadowvurt. These are the middle beings, where most creatures get stuck; they just haven't got the spirit to go beyond.

Except of course, some few just can't stop having sex. Which gives birth to the FOURTH LEVEL, of which there are only five modes, each missing only one element, and their names are; Flake, Dunce, Squid, Spanner, and Float. Hey, what did you want? More big mouthfuls. Fourth level beings are deep beauties, and I should know, because the Cat is one. Which kind? Hey, what is this, gift week? You'll be asking who Hobart is next. I know, I'm a tease. That's how I make my living.

Beyond all this lies the FIFTH LEVEL. Fifth level beings have a thousand names, but Robomandogshadowvurt isn't one of them. They have a thousand names because everybody calls them something different. Call them what you like - you're never going to meet one. Fifth level beings are way up the scale of knowledge and they don't like to mingle. Maybe they don't even exist.

The Cat? He calls the Fifth level Alice. Because that was my mother's name, and it's the thing we all spring from, and try to get back to.

You got a problem with that name, reader?

So make up your own!

Cinders was still asleep when I came down.

I stroked her soft and green hair for a few seconds as I checked the flower clock on the wall. Only five petals had fallen. Seemed like I'd been in the Silver for an hour or more, but that's the Vurt for you; it does strange things to time.