Frek and the Elixir by Rudy Rucker Page A

the coming of dusk, the air had grown very calm. “Good, smart dog. Poor Frek needs help. Find him! Find Frek!”
    â€œThis the fourth place that dog think he smell Frek,” said Zhak impatiently. “We should get real counselor watchdog, a dog with an uvvy so you know what it thinking. Get real counselor dog come back tomorrow morning. If Gov gave Middleville better funding we have dog like that in the first place.”
    â€œTomorrow morning the boy could be in Stun City,” said PhiPhi. “Where Gov lives. Gov doesn’t want that.”
    â€œLittle geever,” said Zhak angrily. “He supposed to head upstream to that old Crufter hideout. Like Lora Huggins tell him to. I waiting there all afternoon and he never come. His brain’s fubbed, yes? Let’s just K-I-L-L him, hey PhiPhi?” He spelled the word to keep Wow from understanding.
    â€œGov doesn’t want that,” said PhiPhi again. “Gov wants the boy for bait to reopen the Anvil. We bring him in alive. We do like Gov says, Zhak.”
    â€œYaya,” said Zhak wearily. “Go on, you stupid dog! Find Frek!”
    Wow gave a low growl. But PhiPhi started up the sweet-talk, and soon Wow was nosing around in the brush. It took all of three minutes till his head appeared under Frek’s bush, his soft golden eyes glowing with pleasure at having found his friend.
    â€œNo, Wowie,” whispered Frek before Wow could bark. “Go away. PhiPhi bad. Zhak bad. Frek hide. Go away.”
    The angelwings twisted in Frek’s grasp, trying to escape the smell of dog. If they started chirping he was doomed.
    â€œGo away, Wow,” hissed Frek.
    Wow bared his teeth in his version of a smile, and went crackling off through the bushes, moving on past Frek, pretending still to be searching, and having himself a good look around. He kept it up for quite a long time.
    When it was fully dark, Zhak and PhiPhi started hollering for Wow. And then, finally, Wow went to them.
    â€œFrek not here,” squeaked Wow from deep in his throat. The sound carried clearly in the calm evening air.
    â€œCurse you,” said Zhak. “We go now, PhiPhi. These woods not safe at night. The Grulloos thinking about suppertime. Grulloos eat people. If Frek here, he won’t get to Stun City. We posted watchbirds all along River Jaya anyhow. Enough now, PhiPhi. We go.”
    â€œI wish we have one more watchbird,” said PhiPhi. “I got a feeling Frek’s under one of these bushes. Listening to us. I bet Wow lying to us. I wonder if Frek come out if we start T-O-R-T-U-R-E his dog?”
    â€œYaya,” said Zhak with a snicker. “I like your think. Hang on. I’ll—” He broke off in a yelp. “He bit me! There he goes! Don’t let him get—”
    Frek heard frantic crashing in the bushes and then a distant splash in the river.
    â€œI’m bleeding, PhiPhi,” said Zhak mournfully. “I need med leech. We go. Forget curse you dog. Maybe he drowns or a Grulloo eats him or we catch him tomorrow, who cares. We go.”
    The lifter beetle buzzed away, invisible against the black sky. It was a cloudy, moonless night.
    Frek was trying to process all the different things he’d heard. It was like juggling—and he couldn’t juggle. One by one the memories dropped from his grasp and rolled off. Eventually he gave up and began putting on his angelwings. He knew for sure that he should keep running from the counselors—he just didn’t know which way.
    A noise was coming from uphill. A quiet sobbing. It had started soon after the counselors left, but only now had Frek identified it. Someone up there was hurt and crying. Frek headed up the dark slope, using his angelwings to move in long, low leaps. When he got closer to the sound, it turned into words.
    â€œI’ve pinched my tail,” said a man’s rough, high-pitched voice. “Please help me,