The Overending

by Rick Johnson

  This was something Angelana had not expected. Most escaped beasts—having been starved, beaten, and worked within an inch of their lives at Tilk Duraow—were grateful to complete their escape. The few who asked to stay with Mar-Marie and Ord were easy to brush aside because they brought nothing that would help SLOPS run better. But PorNart’s question was something different. What if SLOPS had a balloon? What if the round trip to meet the Sharkict fishing boat could be completed in hours, not days? It was an interesting idea.

  “Yar!” Emil exclaimed. “Yar! Yar! Yar! What if PorNart and I both work with SLOPS? PorNart can do repairs and keep the balloon in good shape and I can learn to pilot the balloon! I’m sure I can easily get the hang of it now that I’ve lived through my first flight!”

  “I thought you were eager to get back to the Hedgelands?” S’Might chuckled.

  “I didn’t say I was staying here forever,” Emil responded. “I figure that if I learn to pilot the balloon and teach Angelana, these fair-minded beasts might let me get out of here!”

  Angelana smiled and gave Emil a slight nod. “First things first,” she said. “We’ll have to go down the Lost Ways Crack to the point I would normally split off to return to Mar-Marie and Ord’s. But this time, all of us will return together. You can share your proposal with the SLOPS Mars. That group will decide.”

  “SLOPS Mars?” Emil asked.

  “SLOPS Marshals,” Angelana replied. “That’s the three of us who actually conduct escapes and who, together, run SLOPS—Mar-Marie, Mar-S’Might, and me, Mar-Angelana.”

  PorNart gave a long whistle. “The three of you run this entire thing?”

  “Yes. Mar-Marie mainly sees to the front end of SLOPS—everything up to the point where escapees enter the cave system. I mainly see to the back end—through the caves to the Sharkict pickup. S’Might handles special logistics and is the principal guide after you leave SnowFire. Ord manages the property, cares for Speed, and generally keeps an eye out for spies and troublemakers, but he’s not a Mar. We all work together, but the Marshalls run SLOPS.”

  “Before we leave,” Emil said, “do you mind answering the rest of the questions you didn’t want us to ask earlier?”

  “Sure, any question is fair game now,” Angelana grinned.

  “Then, let’s start with that monster crocodile,” Emil said. “Is that your special pet or what?”

  “Oh, you mean, Speed,” the young Wolf responded. “When Ord was a sea captain, on one of his voyages, he brought Speed back as a young hatchling. He gave him to Grandmother Angelana and he’s been in the family every since.”

  “You just let him run loose in the Everlost?” PorNart asked.

  “Well, yes, we do let him roam around,” Angelana replied, “but he doesn’t go far. He’s used to us and stays close. Three strong slaps on the water with a board and he comes right away.”

  “Looks like you have him pretty well trained,” PorNart observed.

  “Well,” Angelana laughed, “crocodiles aren’t all that intelligent, but Speed is a good creature and knows enough to be a real help to us.”

  “Like keeping unwanted intruders out of the Everlost?” PorNart asked.

  “Yes, that’s part of his duties,” Angelana chuckled, “he watches for beasts travelling through the Everlost. If any seem suspicious, he alerts Ord to have a look. But he also pulls boatloads of escapees through the Everlost to the dock you saw when you followed me.”

  “O.K.,” Emil added, “I begin to get the picture. But this no questions allowed and jumping blindly into the blazing steam and dark is a bit creepy. You’ve got the weirdest way of saving people that I ever saw.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you that, right now, we were sitting dead center within an area crawling with slavers?”

  “No.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you that we were going to rappel up the side of a cave, step into a blazing hot steam vent, and jump into absolute darkness?”

  “No.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you that, when we jumped into the steam and dark you talk about, we dropped directly through the biggest Wrackshee slaver camp anywhere around?”

  “No.”

  “That’s why we don’t try to explain what’s going on until we get this far. No one would believe us anyway and it would upset some beasts so much that their crying and wheezing would slow us down. You don’t realize how very small the distance is between slavers and free beasts around here.”

  “What do you mean?” Emil asked.

  “The world is more than you see,” Angelana replied. “Mostly we live only in the world we can see. But, a lot of the action in the world is in places we don’t see—or at least don’t look for.”

  “I get that,” Emil replied. “In making things from wood, I listen to the wood to find what beauty lies within it. Most beasts, when they look at a piece of wood or a tree, have no idea there’s anything more to it than what they see.”

  “Yes, that’s the idea,” Angelana smiled. “But all of us get so used to the usual things we see that we don’t see many things that are also all around us.”

  “Like Wrackshee slavers?” PorNart asked.

  “Well, yes…” Angelana said, “…the main slaving route between Tilk Duraow and the slaving ports runs right through the Grand Deep. There’s a hideous lot of them in the Deep. It’s like an entire parallel world. Different chambers of the cave lead to different worlds. Go my way; you get to freedom. Go the slaver way; you end up at Tilk Duraow. When we dropped through that steam vent, we literally dropped right through a Wrackshee camp.”

  “What!” Emil and PorNart exclaimed, almost in one voice.

  “The steam we dropped through comes off of a huge steam jet that Wrackshees use to power a lift. The lift carries slaves from an underground channel of the Lost Ways Crack River up to the cave level where they can be marched through the Grand Deep on the way to Tilk Duraow. The Wrackshees have a large camp near the steam vent. When we jumped into the steam and dark, we dropped down a shaft in the rock that runs right through their camp. If it weren’t for the dense steam and screaming sound of the vent, they would see us or hear us as we fell through.”

  Emil and PorNart stared at Angelana in disbelief, saying nothing.

  “As I said earlier,” the young Wolf chuckled, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “How on earth did you figure this all out?” Emil exclaimed. “The trail through the Grand Deep…jumping through the steam vent…the Lost Ways Crack…running fugitives through it all with SLOPS?”

  “Well, for you to know all that,” Angelana said, “it begins with Father. You probably could tell that he was a sea captain when he was a young beast.”

  “Yes,” Emil replied, “I noticed he still wears a sea captain’s coat.”

  “Well, when Father first went to sea,” Angelana continued, “it was during some of the darkest days in the Norder Wolf Estates. You’ve heard of Klemés’ Mutiny?”

  Emil and PorNart looked at Angelana without responding. She could see in their blank faces that they knew nothing of it.

  “You never heard of Klemés’ Mutiny?” Angelana asked with surprise.

  “Not that I ever heard of,” Emil replied slowly, as if he was unsure. “Things have always been pretty quiet at O’Fallon’s Bluff, minding our own business—but…” he paused again, not quite sure what to say.

  “Sounds to me like you know more than you’re saying,” Angelana observed.

  Emil gave her a puzzled look. “I don’t know anything about any Mutiny, that’s for certain,” he said. “But I’m puzzled…Klemés is a very unusual name. I have heard of it only one time in my life—Klemés was my great-grandfather’s name!”

  “On my life, Emil! Your great-grandfather must be Klemés ma di son Colé!” Angelana exclaimed. “Has to be—as you say, there’s no other beast with a name like Klemés.”

  “My great-grandfather’s name was Klemés,” Emil said q
uietly. “He was lost at sea when I was a wee beast.”

  “Oh, no, he wasn’t,” Angelana replied. “He was captured and the High One sent him up to Tilk Duraow to break rock. So far as anyone knows, he’s still a prisoner up there in the slave-works.”

  “That can’t be true,” Emil cried. “It’s absolutely impossible! Klemés went to sea, and the family never saw him again. It was always assumed that Dainty’s Shant went down in a storm with all hands.”

  “But it didn’t! I can prove that—my father, Ord, was the captain of Dainty’s Shant in those days. Klemés was the ship’s carpenter and an old sea-beast by then. They hit it off—Klemés was like a father to Ord.”

  Emil was stunned. He stared at Angelana, saying nothing.

  “I see that my story now has some personal interest for you,” the young Wolf smiled. “A story is always better when it really draws you in.”

  “I’m in,” Emil said grimly. “I’m all the way in now. Keep going with your story.”

  For the first time, Angelana dropped into a chair near the others. “Well, the best way to make sure I don’t forget anything,” she said, “is to tell you the story exactly as Grandmother Angelana told it to me. It all began one night, about ten years ago, when my father did not come home as expected…”

  Book Two

  Klemés’ Mutiny

  Day One

  Ten years before…

  Angelana was worried. The Norder Estates had always been a difficult place for her to live. In fact, she liked hardly anything about living in the Norder Estates. She hated the immense amount of poverty and starvation. The rich farmlands of the Estates produced abundant crops—more than enough to feed everyone. Yet, despite this abundance, many common beasts lived in the extremes of want and hunger.

  Yes, she had never liked living in the Estates. In a way, that was what worried her. All of the things that troubled her were now also putting her family in terrible danger. Two weeks before, her husband, Davison, had been arrested on the ridiculous charge of pilfering goods from ships at the wharf! It was absurd! Every beast in Norder Bay knew Davison was one of the few entirely honest merchants in the Estates. Angelana had heard no word from him, or about him, since his arrest. Despite repeatedly trying to get information about him, the authorities claimed to know nothing.

  Davison’s disappearance put Angelana’s wider family on high alert. Her son, Ord, was in the final days of preparing his ship, Dainty’s Shant, for a long voyage. He worried that his wife, Marie, and their daughter, young Angelana, also might be in danger. The family decided that Marie and young Angelana would go to Port Newolf to stay with Klemés’ wife, Kale’eg, until Ord returned from the voyage. Klemés did not like the Norder Estates and preferred to have his home base elsewhere. Although Marie intensely disliked the idea of leaving Norder Bay out of fear, she also knew that her daughter would be a tempting target of anyone trying to intimidate the family.

  Now, Angelana feared more trouble had occurred. Ord, whom she had expected three hours earlier, had not returned. Even if the delay had some reasonable cause, his lateness was worrying. She feared the worst.

  Such fear was well grounded. In addition to Davison’s arrest, the previous week, Club Wolves—the thug-like security force who kept the Estates in order—had roughed Angelana, herself, up. It was a Thursday, and like all Thursdays, she was hurrying home after visiting the Pogwagger encampment. The poor, starving Pogwaggers needed help, and most beasts in the Estates completely ignored them. Angelana never ignored another beast in need. She went to their camp every Thursday to help in any way she could: repairing wagons, cooking, teaching young Pogwaggers to read, or whatever. She liked the Pogwaggers and had wonderful friendships with many of them. Yet, these very friendships put her under suspicion with the authorities. She suspected that Davison’s arrest was a warning to her. But she had not stopped visiting the Pogwaggers.

  “Davison would not want me to stop, no matter what,” she told Ord when he expressed concern for her safety. “If they think they can stop me by taking my husband—hoping that will shut down his shop and starve me out of town, they’re crazy!” Davison’s arrest, however, was only one part of the family’s recent conflict with the authorities.

  As she was returning home from her regular visit to the Pogwagger camp that Thursday, Angelana observed a jeering crowd of toughs circling around a much smaller, armless Rabbit. The Rabbit was clearly looking for a way to escape. The insults grew louder, however, and the circle closed in on the poor creature. No escape was possible.

  “Hey, Post! Where’s your arms? What’s the matter? No tongue, either? HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!”

  “Yeah, he looks like a post! Straight and thin! Hey, Post! What happened to your arms? Forgot them when you left the house? HAAA-HAAAAAA!”

  “Come on! Let’s see if the Post will fit inside the sewer drain pipe over by Sottehbys! I’ll bet he’ll fit in there just like a finger in a ring!”

  Although outnumbered and obviously preferring to escape the confrontation, the Rabbit did not appear to be frightened. “Don’t push me,” he said in a firm voice of warning. “I’m telling you, I may be small, but if you push me, I’ll take you on—and you’ll regret it.”

  Seeing the threatening circle closing in on the young Rabbit, Angelana thought such brave talk was pure foolishness. Grabbing a broom leaning against a storefront, she flew to his aid. Swinging the broom above the heads of the young beasts attacking the Rabbit, Angelana roared, “That’s my warning cut! You leave the Rabbit alone right now, or my next cut will crack your skulls!” Slashing and swinging the broom, Angelana was quite able to make her point. The circle of young ruffians began to break up. It looked as if Angelana had won the argument. She was just leaning on the broom to catch her breath and find out more about the Rabbit when a Club Wolf patrol arrived.

  “What’s the point o’ all that abuse you were dealing out?” the Club Wolf leader demanded.

  “No abuse from me!” Angelana scowled. “Those ruffians were threatening to stuff this poor young Rabbit in a sewer pipe. I was just stopping them from bothering the little fellow.”

  “And what law gives you the right to abuse beasts who are better than you?” the Club Wolf officer said angrily.

  “Those little trouble-makers are not better than me, and their manners are a long sight worse! They were harassing this Rabbit and maybe going to kill him.”

  “Such things are no concern of ours,” the Club Wolf retorted. “Rabbits are liars and thieves. Such an ugly and helpless creature as this is no good to the Norder Estates. He deserves whatever he gets.”

  This was too much for Angelana. Taking the broom, she knocked the Club Wolf in the head. His helmet fell off, and the blow opened a long gash in his head. The Club Wolf leader briefly stepped back, dazed. The rest of his patrol, however, pounced on Angelana, hitting her in the head with their fists and clubs. She slumped to the street, unconscious.

  When she came to her senses again, the Club Wolves were gone and the Rabbit was kneeling over her.

  “Please, Mama! Please, Mama! Don’t die!” the Rabbit was saying repeatedly. “Please, Mama! Please, Mama! Don’t die!”

  “I’m not about to die,” Angelana smiled. Despite her sore body and swollen face, she felt strangely happy. “I won’t die, if you’ll just stop calling me, Mama! I’m not your Mama, young fellow.”

  A sad look came over the Rabbit’s face. “Won’t you be my Mama? Please? I’m an orphan…I really need a Mama!”

  Sitting up slowly, Angelana said nothing more for several minutes. She and the Rabbit were sitting entirely alone in the middle of a busy street. Crowds of beasts, carts, and wagons flowed by as if they were their own little island. Everything moved on without giving them a thought. In fact, passing beasts gave them a wide berth, as if they might have some terrible disease. Most beasts considered sitting with a Rabbit the wrong thing to do. To top it off, this particular Rabbit as an armless cripple. “Post” as they called him! It ma
de her blood boil! They didn’t even know the young Rabbit!

  Giving the Rabbit a kind look, Angelana got up and put her arm around him. “There you go, little fellow. Come on home with me. If you don’t have a family, you’ve got one now. Follow me. Let’s go home and see what you need.”

  “Thank you, Mama!” the Rabbit said, leaning close to Angelana in an armless hug.

  “So,” Angelana asked, “what’s your name?”

  “I don’t know if I have a real name, Mama, but someone called me, S’Might, once, and it stuck,” the Rabbit replied.

  “Why, S’Might?”

  “I don’t know really. It just kind of stuck.”

  “Alright, then, S’Might, that’s what it will be.”

  Angelana took S’Might with her back home. When they arrived at the house, a crowd of Wolves was milling around in front of it.

  “What can I do for you kind beasts?” Angelana asked.

  “Hand over that ugly little thief, and we’ll leave you and your family alone,” a burly Wolf snarled.

  “He’s part of my family now,” Angelana retorted fiercely, “and I’ll not be handing anyone over to the likes of you!”

  “You like the looks of your head all swelled up and bloody, do you?” the Wolf asked darkly. “Those Club Wolves didn’t make you pretty enough, is that it? Why, we can fix that, can’t we? Har-Har-Har!”

  “I like my looks just as they are, thank you,” Angelana declared. “It’s rather the smell of all you ignorant Stooge Pups that troubles me. I’ll thank you to let me pass into my house so I can breathe cleaner air.”

  “Who are you calling Stooge Pups?” the Wolf demanded.

  “I’d say that any beast that can’t see the decency in another beast who’s done them no harm, and let them be as they will, is simply a Stooge to ignorant prejudice and about as smart as a Pup. Or, maybe, less smart than a Pup. If the description fits, use it,” Angelana replied angrily.