by E. B. Huffer
Both Margie and The Giant shook their heads. No, they couldn’t think either.
"This must be the didgeri-vu what everyone’s talking about," said The Giant.
"I don’t like it," said Margie. "It doesn’t feel right."
"Let’s just get home and see if we can piece things together there," said Spider Beast feeling immensely paranoid. "It’s getting dark out here and you never know who or what is listening."
The Great Torquere
Unbeknown to Margie and her two interesting friends they were being watched. The Great Torquere had known about Margie from the moment she arrived in Limbuss. He made it his business to know everything about everyone in the city. His Dog Beasts made sure of that – not to mention the hundreds of thousands of ears he planted all over the city, hidden in crevices and dark corners. Mostly disguised as flies, they buzzed around the city recording anything that was of interest to the Great Torquere. He was determined to get to know everything about everyone; the minutiae of people’s lives was a drug to him. His brain was like a computer monitoring, recording, monitoring, calculating who was doing what and when in any given second of the day.
Which is quite remarkable given that he didn’t have much of a brain per se; the result of a terrible accident involving a chain saw which left him with one tiny section of his cerebellum, occipital and temporal lobes. The fact was the entire top half of his head was missing from just above his left eye, the right eye having also been ripped off. An elongated tin helmet sat on top of his head with all manner of wires and tubes weaving in and out and trailing off in all directions. No one knew what the purpose of this helmet was and if in fact it did anything to help. All people did know was that despite being almost blind in his remaining eye, the Great Torquere had an implausibly incredible sense of smell. It was akin to that of a catfish; he could taste a few drops of fear in a small ocean. He could smell if someone on the other side of his palace was happy, angry, sad or afraid – something that terrified even the bravest of staff.
His sense of smell was only fractionally better than his sense of hearing which was equally impressive. Much to his annoyance he could generally tell if someone liked him or not simply by listening to the nuances in their voice. Generally people disliked him on sight, which was one of the things that really, really annoyed him.
Even more incredible was that only having half a brain did not seem to have affected his brain function whatsoever. He was, in short, a genius, but a flawed one at that. Obsessed, paranoid and scared. And to make matters much much worse, two major things occurred in Limbuss: the outbreak of déjà vu and the arrival of Margie.
If the Great Torquere was paranoid about change before her arrival then he was utterly obsessed after her arrival. It wasn’t the fact that there was a new face in Limbuss. New faces came and went all the time. No, it was the way in which she’d arrived. She had not come to Limbuss through the ordinary channels and the fact that she just appeared, almost out of thin air, made the Great Torquere very nervous indeed. Nobody just appeared out of nowhere.
But it wasn’t just nerves that he felt. As soon as she knocked the Gravitonius off its feet he knew there was something special about her. He still didn’t know what it was, but something coursed through his veins as soon as he heard about her. Something told him that she was exactly what he had been waiting for – exactly what he had been praying for.
"Would you like me to bring her to you?" asked Ferocimus (leader of Torquere’s Dog Beast militia) almost as soon as she had been found by Auguste. But the Great Torquere had other ideas for Margie. He’d wanted to watch her for a while, observe her until his suspicions could be confirmed. In the meantime he had plenty to be getting on with.
Deep beneath his palace were a number of dark, damp chambers. In each of these chambers were squashed ten, eleven, twelve people, all of whom were among the first to have experienced the déjà vu epidemic.
"I want these people now!" the Great Torquere had demanded as soon as he’d heard of the outbreak. And the army of Dog Beasts was let loose on the city to round up anyone who spoke of déjà vu or who had forgotten chunks of their life.
"There is a reason for this outbreak and I want to know what it is," he demanded. "I don’t want you to leave a stone unturned. If anyone has even sniffed without me knowing about it, then I want them brought in."
And that was that.
Even deeper beneath his palace, scores of people were wired up to all manner of machines. Electrodes were stuck to heads, tubes were thrust into veins, great telescopes gazed into eyeballs that had been propped open with forceps. He waded through the minutiae of people’s lives in search of something that was out of the ordinary; something that would give him a clue as to what was happening to the people of Limbuss; what was causing the déjà vu and forgetfulness.
More to the point, could he harness it? This is what it all boiled down to. If the Great Torquere could harness the forgetfulness, it would be the star attraction on his shelf of powers. Imagine what he could do if he had the power to make people forget segments of their lives without touching them or cutting into them or fiddling with their brains? It appealed to his obsessive and controlling nature. Not to mention his vanity.
As for The Giant and Spider Beast, he had no real need for them. They were useful for now because they kept Margie in a place where he could keep an eye on her. They were in the right place at the right time as far as the Great Torquere was concerned … after all, no one was going to lose Margie with a Giant and a mechanical spider by her side. However, once he had Margie in his clutches, they would be surplice to requirements. He had plenty of Dog Beasts who were always hungry and would eat anything cooked up for them by his supreme chef.
In fact, The Giant - he smiled to himself wickedly - would feed them for a week.
The Big Invisible
After her excursion out of the Emporium (she still didn’t have a clue as to why they went in the first place), Margie made regular trips outside. She found the Emporium’s giant and ever shifting size oppressive and began to feel comforted by the claustrophobic alleys and lanes that crisscrossed the city. Not that she’d ventured far on her own; only a few hundred yards in both directions. By evening, after the sun had set, she would toss a coin – heads she would turn left, tails she would turn right. Then she would wander slowly through the maze of narrow, twisting lanes and alleys savouring the stories that she heard behind closed doors.
By placing her ear on a door or a window, or even the outside wall, she would get a sense of what was happening inside the building; a couple arguing over whose turn it was to stoke the fire and the woman fantasizing about pushing the man into the flames; an elderly man crying over the loss of his beloved wife and the realization that she’d been having an affair for the last fifty years; a lonely woman reading the same book over and over again until she knew the words by heart; a teenage boy gazing at himself in the mirror whilst trying to memorize the lyrics to an old love song so that he could impress his girlfriend.
She soaked in a vast array of emotions and stories, more than she even cared to remember. She didn’t do it because she was inherently nosy, or because she had an ulterior motive. No. She merely did it because she could. And because she had nothing better to do. And because, in her eyes, what she was doing was harmless.
If Spider Beast or The Giant knew that she was creeping round the streets of Limbuss in the middle of the night, they would be furious. She knew this. She was frightened of them finding out. But her fear was overshadowed by curiosity. She felt she had been cooped up in the Emporium for far too long and looking for her bag amid the detritus that filled the ever-shifting rooms was beginning to feel like an impossible task.
In those moments of quiet contemplation, she thought a lot about what Spider Beast had told her. If she was dead then being dead wasn't at all what she'd expected. It felt like she'd just moved to a new town. She didn't feel like screaming or wailing or grabbing anyone hysterically. She didn
't feel any different. She simply felt like the new girl; a little bit lost, a little bit lonely. She didn't have much to compare it to anyway.
Spider Beast wasn't quite so relaxed about the whole affair. He knew about Margie's clandestine excursions and was becoming increasingly twitchy.
He and Auguste had waited all this time for The Collector's return; worked hard to ensure that not a single story got lost in her absence. They had spent the best part of seventy years collecting and storing them in the Emporium. Unable to transform the stories into energy (thus allowing the souls to move on), there was little they could do but await the Collector's return.
He simply couldn't bear the thought of her disappearing again. And with so many people trying to track her down, it was a very real possibility. Of course, not everyone knew that she was the Collector of Stories. She had caused quite a stir arriving in Limbuss so publically and dramatically, it was inevitable that people would show some interest.
To make matters worse, there was now the small matter of Margie's strange affliction to deal with. He'd secretly hoped that it was just an injury from the accident. But deep down he had a niggling feeling that it was something far greater. Something he had only ever heard of in legend. Something that would put the whole of Limbuss - and beyond - in jeopardy.
If only Spider Beast could remember what Bellamy La Bouche had told him; that when Margie arrived in Limbuss she had brought with her an evil force; a monstrous beast that was capable of consuming any soul it encountered.
As it turned out, Spider Beast was quite sagacious himself. He'd sensed The Thing, just like Margie and The Giant had. And he'd seen how Margie often left tiny little icicles where she had been standing or sitting for a period of time. And then of course there was the déjà vu epidemic which he knew signalled changes and adjustments in time and space.
"Only one thing was capable of this" he thought. The Big Invisible.
Up until now The Big Invisible had only been a thing of myth. A giant black hole, it had the power to consume every soul that had ever existed from the beginning of time to the end of time. Any soul consumed by this force was rendered completely and utterly forgotten; banished to oblivion. As far as the world was concerned it had never existed.
Looking at Margie it was hard to imagine that she could be carrying something so devastating and unseen within her. She had to be the Collector. No mortal would be capable of creating something so potentially apocalyptic unless they had divine power of one kind or another. Why she carried The Big Invisible was a complete mystery, but if it was The Big Invisible then it needed destroying quickly.
If not, there was every chance it would consume every soul it came across, including those carefully stored in the Emporium.
The only way to get rid of that problem was to send Margie to the Darkest of All Places. They, The Darkest of the Dark, would know what to do. They would handle the situation. They and they alone were equipped to deal with such a monster.
In fact they had no time to lose. Quite apart from the threat posed by The Big Invisible, Margie was in real danger of being snatched off the streets by Torquere's Dog Beasts. And there was no way he was prepared to let that happen. Not with so much to lose. He needed to remove her from Limbuss; from all the prying eyes and ears. And he needed to do it now.
His only concern now was how to get Margie to agree to his plan.
As it turned out, he didn't have to try too hard. The Big Invisible was beginning to take on a life of its own. Randomly, and without warning, it would radiate a coldness so desperately icy that it would freeze anything within arm's reach: a chair, an axe, a table, a blanket, a piece of meat. Margie was becoming increasingly anxious about it and begged Spider Beast to help her.
"If I could only find my bag," she told him. "It might have some of the answers."
Spider Beast remained non committal.
"Look in the picture," she said shoving the now-crumpled poster through the cage bars. "See how hard I'm holding that bag. There's got to be something important in there. I know there is. Please Spider Beast."
Eventually Spider Beast agreed: "I will find your bag," he said, "on two conditions. The first is that you journey to the only place in Limbuss that can cure you of this affliction once and for all and secondly, that you release me from this preposterous cage."
Margie was very tempted. Whilst she and The Giant had been taking it in turns to carry Spider Beast's cage, it was becoming quite tiresome. Truth be told, she no longer felt suspicious of Spider Beast and with his intimate knowledge of the Emporium he would surely find her bag in no time.
"The Darkest of All Places," said Margie shaking her head slowly. "It doesn't sound very nice."
"I don't suppose it is," replied Spider Beast. "But you have no choice. The sooner we get rid of this Thing you carry, the safer we will all be. As long as it's there, you will be a target. It'll be one less power for that tyrant, Torquere, to pilfer, filch or steal."
"Would you come with me?" she asked fumbling around in her pockets for the key to Spider Beast's cage.
"Unfortunately not," he replied. "I have things to do in the Emporium. You've already cost me several weeks' work."
"She don't know the way," said The Giant who was preoccupied with trying to catch a flea on his arm.
"There's only one road from Limbuss City to the Darkest of All Places. You just follow that road as far as it will go."
"I don't know, Spider Beast. Maybe I should just wait and see what happens."
"Take The Giant with you," said Spider Beast.
"No way," snorted The Giant. "I ain't going nowhere near the Darkest of All Places. I ain't too fond of the dark."
"Oh please," begged Margie. "I'm sure Spider Beast will reward you with something too."
"What reward?" asked The Giant, suddenly showing a modicum of interest.
Margie ummed and aaa'd for a few minutes before Spider Beast interjected with a sigh: "I'll find Lilly and Milly for you."
The Giant's brow dropped and his jaw tensed. "Don't you never mention their names again. You hear me? Not ever!"
"Who are Milly and Lilly?" asked Margie.
"There ain't nothing to tell," said The Giant. Without removing his eyes from Spider Beast, his arm shot out at breakneck speed and caught the flea mid-air between his thumb and forefinger. With a tiny crack, he crushed the insect.
"I have contacts," added Spider Beast not intimidated in the slightest. "All over Limbuss. If they're here, we'll find them."
Margie reached out and gently touched The Giant's arm. "Did you hear that," she said. "He's really going to find them for you. He's going to find my missing bag too. The one in the poster."
The Giant's expression softened but, looking for some evidence of Spider Beast's sincerity, his gaze didn't falter. "You gotta promise me you ain't lying about this."
"Scouts honour," said Spider Beast. "Do we have ourselves a gentleman's agreement?"
Margie and The Giant seemed quite buoyed by the idea of a road trip, although Margie tried not to think about the destination. She had no reason to be afraid. And with The Giant by her side, and Spider Beast rooting for her, she felt invincible.
*****
In the following days and weeks, Margie learnt a lot about The Giant’s past. It happened like this. The Giant, having been born twice the length of a normal baby, had always been gawped at and pointed at and laughed at even as a baby. He’d been found by an elderly lady in a basket on her doorstop. The basket, not being sufficiently long enough to contain the infant had two holes cut out of one end for his legs to poke through. Having found him on her doorstep, the old lady simply couldn’t stop laughing at the spectacle that lay before her.
"Come look at this," she howled to her elderly husband. The old man had also never seen anything so funny and laughed until the tears were streaming down his face.
Still laughing they carried the basket to the local orphanage who took the foundling in. And this is where he stayed,
growing day by day, until he was thirteen and already eight feet tall.
Then The Great Museum of Living Curiosities came to town. Fascinated by the idea of a show of monsters (but not in fact thinking for a second that he would be considered a prize act) he stole away in the dead of the night. He soon found himself peering through a gap in the fencing which surrounded the camp. It was dark and took quite a while for his eyes to adjust and when they did he was confronted with a face staring back at him, just inches from his own and most importantly the most hideous, gut wrenching stench. It was so foul and powerful that he instantly passed out.
The smell was coming from Puteo the Repugnant (or the Human Skunk), a South American act whose natural odour was so malodorous that sick bags and perfumed handkerchiefs were issued to visitors before they entered the tent.
Turns out that Puteo the Repugnant also had a sense of smell to match his B.O. and had sniffed out the imposter whilst he was still several hundred yards away.
It wasn't long before The Giant came to the attention of the museum’s owner, T. P. Marvel who made The Giant a prodigy. He took The Giant under his wing and transformed him into one of the greatest attractions of his time. People came from far and wide to see the world’s tallest child. He had his own caravan, twenty feet high and only ten feet wide. The crowds flocked to see him and paid good money to do so. He quickly became a celebrity and people paid to try on his jackets and place their babies in his shoes for photographs.
The years passed and he eventually fell in love with conjoined twins the Moulton Sisters (Lilly and Milly) who had been sold to the circus when they were three weeks old and trained for life as a sideshow novelty. The girls were one of the highest selling attractions and earned more money in a week than many did in a year. One day they were promised by a quack that he could separate them if they paid five thousand dollars. Unfortunately they died in the botched operation and their bodies were pickled and preserved so the circus could continue to profit. The Giant’s heart was broken. Unable to bear the thought of their bodies being on display, he ran away in the night and never returned.
