by Rudy Rucker
“I cycled out too early, and had to re-up for spin-dry umpty-six. Mary never left. How you?”
“I’m off the Pig, yeah,” said Thuy. “Thinking clearer; feeling more; building my metanovel. The new metastory is an excerpt from it. I’m in the zone, John; it feels like dreaming while being awake. And the world’s helping me. This Hibraner Azaroth keeps showing up. You’re part of the pudding, too. It’s so perfect and synchronistic that you popped out of that particular alley. Everything’s entangled. God’s an artist.”
“The yam’s the man,” said Prescription John, puffing up his tuberous orange icon. “Whoops, here comes Topping. Gotta go.”
He sputtered, twinkled, and faded out—leaving Thuy with a sudden suspicion that maybe that hadn’t been the true flesh-and-blood Prescription John running the yam. Maybe she’d been talking to a virtual, artificially alive Prescription John from within her “Losing My Head” metastory. Hanging around Darlene’s Metotem store the other day, she’d heard some of the other metanovelists talking about times when their characters started messaging them—they referred to this not uncommon feedback phenomenon as “blowback.”
Gerry Gurkin, for instance, kept having visitations from the simulated Gerry Gurkin of his autobiographical Banality, the virtual Gerry clamoring that he wanted metanovelist Gerry to edit in a girlfriend character for him to fuck. Telling this story, portly Gerry darted hot intense looks at Thuy, as if he were planning to feed a model of her to virtual Gerry, which was perfectly fine with Thuy, and she said so.
Thuy was in a lonely-but-coned-off emotional state where she was ready to accept any admiration she was offered, as long as it was virtual and with no strings attached. Re: “coned off,” she’d heard a woman actually saying that about herself the other day, as if she were a wreck lane or a crime site. That phrase went straight into the metanovel. The yam’s “I like Dick; does Dick like ye?” seemed usable too. Oh, for sure that had been the real Prescription John. No beezie would ever talk that silly.
Light from the store windows made warm trapezoids on the shiny sidewalk, gilding the rain puddles, their surfaces wrinkled by the gusty wind. As always when she noticed gnarly natural patterns, Thuy thought of Jayjay. She missed his lean body, his voice, his smell, his physical presence. He was still living on the Merz Boat.
According to Kittie, who’d taken to watching every freaking second of Founders, Jayjay had had a little affair with Jil Zonder in November, although Jil had broken it off pretty quickly for the sake of her kids. Kittie said Jil wouldn’t have gotten into the affair at all if it hadn’t been that, right after his affair with Nektar, Craigor had started humping that slutty Lureen Morales up the hill. And now it looked like poor, heart-broken Jil might be drifting back into sudocoke.
Back when Jil and Jayjay’s affair had actually been going on, Kittie had kept wanting to tell Thuy about the couple’s intimate doings: who put what where how often, like that. For sure Thuy didn’t care to process that type of info. No more than she cared to peep at Kittie and Nektar making the two-backed beast. Or, for that matter, Craigor and Lureen. Grunt, grunt, moan, moan. Thuy had given up on sex, at least for now, although she and Kittie were still roommates and fairly good friends. Oh, Jayjay, where are you?
Thuy drew even with El Santo de Israel, an evangelical storefront church that had preaching and a crowd most evenings. It was next to an auto repair shop. The church name was in the serif-heavy Old English font that some Latinos liked, and the windows were decorated with poster paints: a man wrestling an angel, a six-pointed star with Hebrew letters around it, the Christian fish symbol with an eye in the middle, and numerous chapter-and-verse scripture references. Fresh red writing on the window read: “Visita Del Rebelde Ángel Azaroth Hoy.” Rebel Angel Azaroth Visiting Today.
Azaroth again. Thuy’s ears began ringing as if she had a fever. The busy street scene became remote, “in quotes,” a grimy surreal diorama behind shatterproof glass. Was Thuy writing her metanovel, or was the metanovel writing her?
Until now, Thuy had held back from mentioning Azaroth in Wheenk, but it was time to write him in. She mentally replayed her memories of her very first meeting with him, going over the events slowly and precisely, blending them into the material she already had.
It had happened shortly after Orphid Night, when the ethereal Hibraners had become visible, thanks to the airborne orphids adhering to the aliens’ insubstantial forms and bedecking them with meshes of graphical vertices ….
As part of her then job at Golden Lucky, the Vietnamese restaurant-supply wholesaler, Thuy was researching the possibility of starting to deal in the meat of the locally caught Pharaoh cuttlefish being processed by AmphiVision, the San Francisco company that made display devices using organic rhodopsin from cuttlefish chromatophores. AmphiVision was discarding the cuttles’ really quite tasty flesh, and Thuy’s boss, Vinh Phat, sensed a business opportunity. There was a good demand for grilled cuttlefish in the local Asian communities. Vinh had set Thuy to tracking data on the cuttlefishers, giving her access to a dragonfly spy camera.
So as it happened, Thuy was watching Craigor, Jil, Ond, Nektar, and Chu on the Merz Boat the night that Ond released the orphids. She dipped into Chu’s cuttlefish datastream; she accessed the blue spaghetti link; and she paid close attention when Chu wove his Celtic-style jump-code knot from a piece of string. The knot intrigued, even fascinated, Thuy. Looking through the dragonfly, she examined it quite closely during the penultimate instant after Chu tied together the string’s two loose ends, right before he disappeared into the Hibrane.
Thuy was investigating all these things with a sense of doing a job for Golden Lucky, alone with the family cat Naoko in her frilly bedroom at her parents’ house, working online after hours, not immediately understanding the transformative impact of what was going down. But then she looked out her window past her parents’ neighbors’ identical houses; she saw the orphid-outlined hills of San Francisco; and suddenly she got the picture. Game over. Everything was changed forever, and Thuy no longer needed to play the good girl. Not quite letting herself think about what she was doing, she packed a bag and headed for her high-school boyfriend, Jayjay. Thanks to the orphidnet, it was easy to find him. He was living with Sonic in a shell of a house in the Mission—some developer had gutted it for a retrofit and had then run out of funds.
Azaroth manifested himself to Thuy three days after Orphid Night. By then the Big Pig had emerged, and Thuy, Jayjay, and Sonic had learned about suckling on the pig, which meant that Thuy woke up woozy. She sat up in bed, looking around Jayjay’s ugly, junked squat, and then, in the orphidnet, she saw a glowing eye the size of a melon peering in the window. It was a Hibraner, a thirty-foot-tall man of light. He wore flashy clothes: purple bell-bottoms and a green shirt with yellow stripes. He reached through the wall to caress Thuy; she felt his ethereal body as a warm air-current.
“It’s glow to talk with you,” Azaroth messaged, his voice coming through the orphidnet connection in Thuy’s head. The voice sounded boyish, eager, perhaps a bit nerdy. He accompanied his speech with a rich stream of images. “I’m Azaroth from the Hibrane. And you’re …?”
“Thuy,” she said aloud, causing Jayjay to stir in his sleep. Sonic wasn’t around; he’d already gone out to look for food. Thuy switched to subvocal speech. “Should I be scared? What kind of name is Azaroth, anyway?”
“My grandparents were from Ludhiam in the Punjab. They worked in a bicycle factory. As he prepared to emigrate, my father, Puneet, made a hobby of studying the world’s religions. He named me after a Babylonian demon. Azaroth is a starky god. Good name for starky me.” Azaroth pushed his head and shoulders into the room as well. He had dark, liquid eyes and a beaky nose. He wore his long hair in a topknot enclosed by a pale green stocking that matched his shirt.
One of Jayjay and Sonic’s now-outmoded game consoles was running a rapid-fire demo loop. Azaroth peered at it, fascinated.
“Do you want something from me?”
Thuy asked.
“Chu’s Knot,” Azaroth said. “You know, that vibby tangle of string the boy tied off before he jumped to our world? That’s Chu’s Knot. You saw it. I saw you seeing it. I was here stealing Craigor’s cuttlefish. We like to eat them.”
“Chu’s Knot,” echoed Thuy, not really surprised. She’d been thinking obsessively about the Knot lately, even in her dreams. It seemed reasonable that a Hibrane alien would want to know about the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. She settled her pillow against the wall, ready for conversation. “Why exactly do you need it?”
“I want to help Chu come home.”
“He’s still in the Hibrane? Why not ask him about the Knot?”
“My Aunt Gladax caught Chu on Orphid Night and made him forget,” said Azaroth. “Chu’s father Ond got away. For a little while.” Azaroth flashed Thuy a vision of Chu wrapped in a rubber net suspended by bungee cords in the middle of a very large room—it seemed to be a personal gym or exercise room in a hilltop mansion with a view of nighttime San Francisco and the twinkling Golden Gate Bridge. The vision was accompanied by a mind-numbing hum. “Bouncy Chu. Aunt Gladax is very paranoid about your nanomachines—even though we’re sure that all the orphids on your boys were crushed by our smart air as soon as they arrived. You’d be better off if your air got smart too.”
“How do you mean?”
“Lazy eight. It’s how we do telepathy in the Hibrane. Better than orphids. Too hard to explain right now. Can you tell me the jump-code so I can pass it on to Chu and Ond? Maybe they can even make your air smart too.”
“And that would be good?”
“Oh yes. Hylozoic.”
“All I know is that Chu posted the blue spaghetti version of the jump-code right before he left,” said Thuy, not quite sure she should help this strange-talking alien.
“That part I know,” said Azaroth. “But all the Lobrane links to the spaghetti jump-code are dead now. I’m asking if you yourself know the short version by heart. Chu’s Knot.”
“I don’t exactly remember the Knot,” said Thuy.
“That humpty Gladax,” said Azaroth, shaking his head. “Up in the Hibrane, she cut up Chu’s Knot—I’m talking about his tangled piece of string, right—and then she addled the Knot-knowing away from him.” Image of old Gladax focusing her narrow eyes upon a wildly bouncing Chu in that exercise room. She strikes an old-fashioned harp at one end of the room. The bouncing stops. Gladax leans over Chu, an energy ray poking from of her finger. Slowly, precisely, she reaches into Chu’s head, crooning to keep the boy still.
“Ond was so worried; he went to Gladax’s house,” continued Azaroth. Image of sad-faced Ond Lutter kneeling tiny on the front porch of Gladax’s huge, organic-looking mansion at dawn, the house’s pillars like the trunks of trees. “Gladax promised that Chu would be okay, and she got Ond to teach her how to erase all the Lobrane records of Chu’s jump-code too. So that’s why your blue-spaghetti links don’t work anymore. Meanwhile Gladax wants Chu to live with her like a houseboy or a pet. She thinks he’s a lucky amulet against the nants. A nanteater. And Ond’s staying on as Gladax’s tutor, so he can be near Chu. But I’m working on a deal. I want Gladax to free those two to work with me. And I’d like to give them Chu’s Knot so that someday they can come back and fix your world.”
“Gladax wants to keep Chu because of what he did on Nant Day?” said Thuy, not following most of this. “She’s that worried about nants?”
“Most Hibraners think machines are jitsy.” Azaroth gestured at Sonic’s tired old game display and at Jayjay’s equally obsolete cell phone. “But I glow your tech, even if it is stupid.” Image of a beggar kneeling to walk on rough-carved wooden stilts that are exactly the same length as his shins would be if he walked erect. “I’d like to be more than a cuttlefish poacher some day,” continued Azaroth. “I’d like to program video games we can use with our telepathy. That’s another reason why I want to get Ond and Chu free from Gladax. They’ll be grateful and they’ll help me write a game. I’d like to be able to offer them the Chu’s Knot jump-code. Remember it for me, Thuy.”
“Look, Azaroth, you jump branes all the time. Why can’t you just tell Ond and Chu the jump-code that you use?”
“I don’t know the code like a machine row of beads. I know it like I breathe. We’ve always been able to visit the Lobrane, but each jump is a little dangerous—these creatures called subbies live in between the branes and they try and catch you. I’m here so often because of the cuttlefish—cuttles are extinct on our world, you wave. We admire them as a religious symbol, but we overdid it and ate all of ours. Hibraners pay a lot for Lobrane cuttles. I’m agile. The subbies never catch me or any of the cuttlefish I send home.”
“So why don’t you send Ond and Chu back to the Lobrane just like the cuttlefish you steal,” suggested Thuy. She paused for a moment, then plowed ahead. “And maybe send me to the Hibrane so I can have a look, too.”
“I can’t just brute-force jump a Lobrane human from brane to brane. The cuttlefish die when I jump them over to the Hibrane, you wave? To make it safe, a person has to jump all glowy with their personal pulse.”
“Why didn’t you pay better attention to Chu’s Knot when he made it?”
“I was too excited about having you gnomes finally see us.”
“And why is it that you’re invisible over here?”
“You ask too many questions, Thuy! The branes are out of phase with each other, like two voices singing in different keys. And when we Hibraners jump across, we only change our phases by a little bit, so we show up catawampus akimbo to you. You guys and your cuttles, you’re a darker kind of matter, and when you jump, you rotate through the full phase shift to match. Chu and Ond showed up chewy as a cuttlefish. Come on now, Thuy, stop stalling. I bet you can remember the Knot. A smart woman like you.”
Charmed by the chatty alien, Thuy tried once again to remember the precise details of Chu’s Knot. Surely the delicate filigree was intact somewhere in her memory? But it kept slipping away.
“I can’t quite get it,” she said after a bit.
“Maybe you should write a story about seeing the Knot,” suggested the Hibraner. “Art’s the way to know what you don’t.”
“I’ve been talking with people about a new style of writing,” said Thuy. She was an inveterate participant in online writers’ groups. “Metastories and metanovels—we’re all thinking about a new art form using the orphidnet.”
“Start with Orphid Night,” urged Azaroth. “Time zero. And unroll from there. Tell all your personal experiences, spill your starky guts. I’ll hang in the background, setting you up for the big spike.”
“Is Gladax evil?” asked Thuy as an afterthought.
“No. It’s just that she’s old and she worries too much,” said Azaroth. “She’s the mayor of Hibrane San Francisco, did you know that? I know her so well because she’s my aunt; she’s my father’s dead brother Charminder’s widow. She’s part Dutch and mostly Chinese. Bossy and picky, but she’s always nice to me. I bet she roots out my memory record of this conversation.” He laughed recklessly. “Good old Gladax!”
And then Sonic came back to the apartment and Azaroth left.
Thuy popped out of her flashback. She’d saved it all into the Wheenk database; it felt like a good, solid take. Thinking less formally now, and no longer for the record, she recalled the two other times she’d seen Azaroth.
The second time had been back in September. Azaroth had slid ever so slowly down a slanting sunbeam from a sunset-reddened cloud, behold! This time he’d encouraged Thuy to start sleeping with Kittie instead of with Jayjay, which didn’t turn out to be that great of an idea. But at the time, Azaroth had said the switch would give Thuy more to write about, also that breaking up with Jayjay would help Thuy beat her Big Pig addiction, which had been soaking up increasing amounts of her energy and time. Oh, and Azaroth had encouraged Thuy to start linking her scattered metastories together into a single co
hesive metanovel.
By then Azaroth had also talked Gladax into letting Chu and Ond range freely around the Hibrane equivalent of San Francisco. They did no harm, and the Hibraners enjoyed seeing the tiny gnomes around town. And, just as Azaroth had hoped, Chu was helping him develop a telepathy-based game. Azaroth used the word “teep” to mean “do telepathy.” Apparently he and Chu somehow used a stream of water for their game’s server-computer. And Ond was advising Gladax on efficient ways to access the vast pool of Hibrane teep info. Hibrane telepathy was based on some weird quirk of the brane’s physics, and had no Weblike orderliness built in.
Ond and Chu were very interested in relearning the Chu’s Knot jump-code for getting home. Although it still wasn’t quite safe for them to return to the Lobrane, they wanted to know that they could come home when the time came.
Azaroth assured Thuy that even if she hadn’t yet written enough to remember the details of Chu’s Knot, she was surely getting closer. According to Azaroth, the windings and crossings of the Knot were implicit in everything Thuy wrote, so that even when she thought she was writing about, say, what her mother, Minh, used to pack for her school lunches, she was really, at some deep level, writing about the Knot. Maybe so. The Knot still hadn’t faded from Thuy’s mind; often as she was drifting off to sleep, she saw it hovering before her, every loop and twist intact—but when she tried to focus on the details, they always slipped away.
The third time Thuy had seen Azaroth had been last month, right after he’d been leaning over Grandmaster Green Flash, assessing the state of the nanomachines on the dead man’s skin. At that time, Azaroth had hopped over to Thuy and messaged her the news that Luty was working on turning Lobrane Earth into nants again. He said the Hibraners would do what they could to help stop Luty, but the real work was up to the Lobraners themselves. He said it would be a shame if the nants won, because then his people would never feel safe coming to visit again. He told Thuy to argue about any offers they made her in the Armory, because if she got into a fight, it would give her something heavy to write about for her metanovel, and if she found the Chu’s Knot code, she could bring Ond and Chu back, and they might be the ones to turn the tide.
