Davidia and the Prince of Triplock

by Ken Spargo

  ‘Where’s your mouth?’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘Your mouth, where you eat through and speak from.’

  ‘Oh! You mean this slit in my undercarriage. Go on, turn me over.’

  Davidia gently and with trepidation saw a gap in the rectangle’s underside. It moved.

  ‘This is my utterer. I speak and eat from it.’

  ‘How do you see? I have eyes; only two, though. What do you have?’ She pointed at her face.

  ‘I have four rotators. I can see in a complete circle with them.’

  ‘Why are you so flat?’

  ‘It’s easier to move around without any weight and besides lichen doesn’t hold a great deal of nutritional value to fatten us up. When we are made, it’s to a specific size, so we have to manage with what we are given. Special sizes are for the leaders.’

  ‘What are those things called, that you stand on?’

  ‘Upters, so we keep off the ground. We walk on them. Put me down and I’ll show you.’

  Davidia did as requested and instantly she saw four little upters furiously take the rectangle off into the distance. For good measure, it squirted a fresh load of slime at her feet. It was meant as waste product and not as fertiliser.

  ‘Ungrateful little carpet piece,’ she muttered.

  ‘Not all of us are naughty,’ said another Noot nearby who had come out of hiding. ‘There are some of us here with special markings that you need to be aware of.’

  ‘Why? We’re just visiting.’

  ‘You are in a forbidden valley that is ruled by an underground force. If it rises, there is no escape. You have seen how flat the land is. There is nowhere to hide.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘A not-naughty Noot. Beware of the Noots with two black dots above their back upters. They have special powers most of us don’t. It’s rumoured that an underground force has scarred them into service for being really naughty. To redeem themselves, any new life form in the valley must be caught and be made into a building block to climb over. Then they get four dots and belong to the ruling Nooters, which is a special class of angry Noots. They are very dangerous.’

  ‘Why should we believe you?’

  ‘Look at my shown side and you will understand.’

  There on the Noot’s shown side were four dots. Davidia fell over in surprise.

  ‘This messing up of my clothes is getting to me.’

  ‘I warn you, the valley is riddled with fear. That is one reason why we keep our unshown sides to the ground and continuously eat. It is impossible to know which Noots are ready to earn their dots.’

  ‘But, if you already have four dots, you must be an angry Nooter.’

  ‘They aren’t real, but are excellent camouflage, providing I don’t have to act as a four dotter. Note that I have three black and one empty one. That’s how you will know me when we meet again.’

  ‘Is there a place we can eat? I’m starving.’

  The Noot just shook its rectangle. There was nowhere.

  Irridia sensed the strength of competition was nearing. Her breast sensors tingled with delight at the thought of a physical encounter. The signal from the past grew in strength with each new transmission. She knew that if it entered the Valley of Triplock, a powerful eruption for all life forces would explode. The Irrid army would fight against whoever it was that was coming. She had no idea what form the combatant would take. Being a mother, her intuition was that it would be nasty.

  Her demonic failures in each valley had her concerned that her evil wasn’t bad enough to succeed. If she couldn’t subdue the carrier of the signal so far, perhaps Nitpickle would provide salvation for her and prove once and for all the power of her nastiness. A half smile leaked across her face. Today wasn’t a good day for leaks. Memories were destined to interfere with her bad judgements.

  Her favourite demon that delighted in unpleasantness and loved a dirty task, lived underground. It was Dustbag, a dirt-filled force that followed the dirt seams to the surface. Its vision permeated clearly through the ground. It followed and stalked its prey from underground. No wonder it was so dangerous – nothing knew it was being watched.

  ‘Dustbag, it’s time you enhanced your reputation.’

  ‘How many dots have you got, Nootster?’

  ‘Two. The same as many of you.’

  ‘The word is that you are next in line for an extra two dots.’

  ‘Is someone whispering about me? What do I have to do to earn them?’

  ‘Something diabolical that no Noot has ever achieved singularly on their own, by themselves, without anyone else.’

  Nootster couldn’t imagine what that would be. Most Noots were friendly and non-confrontational, except when that Dustbag started blowing dirt everywhere – then it was every carpet piece for themselves: rotators became blinded, dust rested on their shown side weighing them down so badly their upters collapsed and they couldn’t move; the lichen harvest was ruined for many darks and lights; the already thin carpet pieces became almost transparent through lack of eating; and the valley became a virtual wasteland for a time. Dustbag delighted in the chaos and havoc it caused. Underground entertainment was limited, so when Irridia sent a message to do something, it was greatly received. For maximum destruction it had to be above ground where its vulnerability increased.

  ‘Capture Dustbag, in a slime ball, then we are free of the evil in the valley.’

  ‘If Dustbag isn’t here, doesn’t that mean that the angry Nooters would take over instead?’

  ‘You clever little carpet piece, that’s the plan. Unless you capture Dustbag, you will never be an angry Nooter.’

  ‘What about the leader, Noosy? Shouldn’t she be aware of the plan?’

  ‘I don’t take orders from that overfluffed rectangle. I’ve earned my four dots and intend to keep them. Are you with us or against us?’

  Nootster was in a quandary. He neither had the power, intelligence or capacity to intern the dangerous Dustbag. When he was made from the leftover carpet pieces, it wasn’t infused with much in the way of good brains. He was easily led, trimmed and frayed. He had to appear brighter than his shape, so with the bravado of a new carpet piece fool, he accepted the plan, knowing failure with a huge F would occur.

  The valley was in the grip of deceit and danger. How could he formulate a plan involving Noosy, without the angry Nooters knowing? Betrayal meant that he would be trimmed into a square shape and be the butt joke of all the rectangular shapes.

  ‘It’s a deal.’ Nootster shook an upter, gave a small squirt of goo and glided off into the unknown.

  ‘Remember, we are relying on you.’

  ‘I’m too small to make a huge slime ball by myself. I don’t know how I’m going to do it.’ Poor Nootster, he had a problem larger than himself to solve. His gliding took him far away from the angry Nooters. ‘I don’t really want to be bad, but it’s my destiny.’ Nooter’s stages of importance were determined by carpet piece hierarchy. His rotators drooped slightly. A small goo drop fell to the ground. ‘That’s new,’ he said aloud.

  Noosy had been alerted to the intruders in the valley and began to make her way there to decide their fate. She had a faithful bodyguard of Shenoots that were large, female carpet pieces, cut from the finest of carpets. Their power was in their shown side, where extra slightly larger nettles held dangerously sharp nails. These could penetrate a hard surface. Davidia’s and Grunt’s outer layers would offer them no protection.

  ‘Girls, sector rockininny has intruders. Form and file. Forget feeding your utterers. Let’s glide.’

  The Shenoots joined together in one large carpet formation. The ground gave the impression that it was moving.

  ‘Your sides need trimming,’ said one Shenoot to another. ‘They feel rather rough up against my neatly trimmed edges.’

  ‘Your upters look like they have bent slightly. Have you been squirting enough to stay thin?’ Another asked, ‘Are you overeating?’

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p; ‘Girls, concentrate on locating the intruders. The first to find them has the distinction of the first firing.’ Noosy knew that they all relished a challenge.

  The girls giggled with excitement. It wasn’t quite a slumber party, but it was more of a carpet get-together. They all hoped that they would be the first to fire.

  A large, dark, cloud of rotating dust particles formed on the horizon. In its midst, well camouflaged, the naked eye couldn’t identify Dustbag. He was travelling with his dirt-particle irritants, ready to pile them out on the landscape and ruin everyone’s day. He had been underground for quite a long time and had been released by the Irrids. The dirt particles he now had as carrying companions were the heaviest and dirtiest he would have the pleasure of blowing anywhere.

  ‘It’s been a while since I have been this filthy,’ said a huge particle, pleased to have been released from underground and showing its potential for recycling.

  ‘Drop me off there,’ another particle suggested.

  ‘It’s too flat, try a mound,’ said another.

  Each time they spoke from their open gappers, minute particles escaped as fine dust, floating aimlessly within the cloud. Dustbag was scanning the landscape for a good dump spot when he noticed two tall silhouettes. He coughed in surprise.

  ‘Steady there,’ chorused a few dust particles. It wasn’t yet time to be scattered over the land. A suitable site hadn’t been located.

  Davidia and Grunt could see the fast approaching dust cloud. It blackened the sky.

  ‘We need to stand perfectly still,’ said Grunt, ‘and shut our eyes, ears and any space where dust might enter our bodies.’

  ‘I can’t shut mine,’ said Davidia, because she couldn’t. Humans weren’t built to have opening and closing orifices.

  Batbit could hide under an armpit. Grunt could completely shut himself down into an inoffensive ball, but Davidia was stuck with exposed gaps – even placing her fingers as best as possible couldn’t manage it. She began to cry. A pear-shaped teardrop spilled at her feet. She followed its downward trajectory as if in a trance. It shattered on the slime blanket covering the ground. A small gap was made in the goo. Suddenly, Davidia recognised that the goo was easily shaped and acted like soft plasticine. In haste, she bent down and felt the sticky mass.

  ‘I’m not going to like this,’ she said kneading it with her fingers.

  Her tiny fingers stuffed a small amount in her ears. The goo settled quietly and made the perfect earplugs. Next was the nose. Fortunately, the composition of the goo allowed for filtered airflow without admitting any matter at all. Her voice did sound rather funny when she spoke. For a final slap and slather, a handful was plastered over her face for eye and mouth protection. She could see clearly. All was in readiness for the statue stance. Surprisingly, the goo liked its new carrier and stayed where it had been placed.

  Dustbag drew near. The two silhouettes didn’t flinch. He encircled them.

  ‘Let me get at them,’ said an impatient particle. ‘I haven’t landed on anything that tall before.’

  ‘What are “them?”’ asked a crumbling dust hazard.

  Dustbag hovered above Grunt and Davidia. What unusually shaped creatures they were. Most of what he dusted was flat and his dust was spreadable. If he dumped now to cover them properly, he would have to use up all his dust in the one spot. He needed reserves. In a whiff, he was gone. A few dust particles that were left behind whinged unendingly about their poor job performance. Dustbag had taken most of them back to add to a refill.

  ‘It’s gone,’ said Grunt. ‘It will come back no doubt. There was something evilly familiar about that mass. My nerves were twitching anxiously. I held my necklace tight when it was near. A clear vision appeared full of crosses and circles, with the crosses moving over each circle; then it vanished. It was a wipeout of life forms. That mass reminded me of …’ His voice trailed off to rest with his other vocal enacters.

  ‘Mmmph,’ replied Davidia as she scraped off the sticky goo. ‘There, that’s much better. You aren’t squashed are you, Batbit?’

  Batbit crawled out looking like a crumpled piece of paper. He stretched his wings to check any damage. They were all intact. He flapped them a few times and was soon airborne.

  ‘What a relief! Armpits aren’t my preferred hang-out. It becomes rather odious in there tucked up into a small space.’ He zoomed and dived, checking his flying technique was functioning properly. ‘I’ve still got that whizz factor that Mrs Batbit chased me for.’

  He flew far enough away to still retain sight of the silhouettes of his two friends. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? A large, clean, grey area of ground seemed to be moving effortlessly in a precise formation towards them.

  ‘I don’t believe it. The ground can’t possibly be moving. Rocks sit and erode; they don’t get up and go.’

  He flew down to investigate and carefully landed on the shown side of the Shenoots. His light weight saved him. If the Shenoots had discovered he was having a free ride they would have raised their nettles and sprayed him with nails. It would be skewered bat meat on the menu had they eaten life forms. Even so, he would be embalmed in a spit ball and used as climbing practice. He wasn’t yet ready to become an amusement climbing piece. He listened intently as they transmitted their thoughts.

  ‘What’s the plan when we get there?’

  ‘Check the danger level of the life forms and capture them. They cannot stay in the valley. They might find our special stone clump and steal it.’

  ‘Where would they go? Nothing lives in the valley except us Noots. We can’t convert them into one of us, can we?’

  ‘They would be very poor carpet quality and possess inferior breeding. Only the great Nitters of Nootsland know that answer. Are you prepared to get a needle up your squirter and be unpicked? I doubt it. It’s easier to spitball them and they can stay forever.’

  ‘What are you looking for, Shenna?’ asked one jealous Shenoot. She had always envied Shenna’s finer carpet lines and weave pattern.

  ‘I’m looking for an idea to assist Noosy. You haven’t seen any, have you? I don’t know what they look like, but they often visit.’

  ‘The last time I saw one, it was so far in the distance my rotators couldn’t see it clearly enough to know what it was. They are extremely elusive, almost as slippery as our slime.’ The Shenoots laughed so much their carpet formation bounced up and down. Batbit landed with a thump on their shown side. Simultaneously, many rotators popped up.

  ‘Agh!’ they screamed as if choreographed.

  Batbit escaped with his torso intact. A field of nails shot up at him. The Shenoots’ firers worked perfectly, except Batbit was too quick for them.

  ‘What was that black thing on our shown side?’ asked Noosy, who had been concentrating on leading the charge and planning the capture.

  ‘Wasn’t it a flying rock?’

  ‘It was an ugly dust particle.’

  ‘Did you notice its skinny upters and its utterer were full of sharp, white, protruding points? It couldn’t be accepted into our social circle.’

  ‘Girls, be alert. That thing was a foreign life form, none the like of which I have ever seen before. It was rather scary looking. Perhaps when we find it, we can give it the Shenoot makeover. Be wary of anything not Noot.’

  Noosy had once before met oddball foreign life forms. They were nothing but trouble. Her position as Noot leader depended on her ability to lead and protect all who live in the Valley of Nitpickle. She was determined to capture the strange life forms and remove any threat to their existence. However, she had never encountered the villain, Dustbag, before. She was only a very small carpet piece when he had last sprayed the valley with a dust storm. She had no memory of that event. Life under her rule had been quiet and healthy. That was all about to change.

  ‘Grunt, there’s trouble heading towards us. A large carpet group are planning to capture Davidia and you and use you as climbing equipment,’ said an excited Batbit.
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br />   ‘I love games,’ said Davidia.

  ‘This will be a game where you can’t play.’

  ‘That’s not fair. At home I was allowed to climb on the jumping equipment, stairs and slides. Mum and dad always let me play.’

  ‘Grunt, this is serious. They also said something about a special clump of stones, but not where they are located.’

  ‘We must avoid being caught and trick them into showing us where the special clump of stones are. There must be a strong reason why one set of stones are so special, whereas others are not. From which direction are they coming?’

  Batbit indicated that it was somewhere from over there, wherever that was.

  Nootster was following his own trail of disaster. It was a lonely trek. He knew he was doomed to be laughed at forever by the angry Nooters.

  ‘How big a slime ball do I need?’ he said to himself. The trail of squirts he left behind were practice for a large slime ball. It didn’t matter how much lichen he hoovered up or squirted out, it was insufficient to capture anything of significance. His rotators looked sad, his upters bent with the weariness of his impossible task, and his utterer was uttererless. His emotions of despair almost brought him to self-destruction by thinking of unpicking his weaved fabric and reducing himself into a ball of carpet material. The Nitters of Nootsland would collect him in his unwound state and refurbish him into another carpet piece, but it wouldn’t be known as Nootster.

  The best quality and quantity squirters of slime were the Shenoots. If only he could enlist their help, he would succeed. What would they think of him when he exposed the two black dots on his shown side? They would immediately recognise that he belonged to those no-good, angry Nooters who should be rewoven. It was a risk worth taking. Perhaps he could change. Maybe he won’t be unpicked.