Read Online Frek and the Elixir by Rudy Rucker - Free Book Online Page A

hated him. And he hated them back. It felt bad. He’d never hated anyone before. He’d been mad at Carb for leaving, but he’d never hated him. And the way things were going, Frek was beginning to see why Dad had gone. Gov had peeked Dad too, and Dad had never let on how really horrible it had been. No wonder he’d been a little out of it after that. Maybe he’d been right to leave Earth. But surely, if Carb had tried harder, he could have brought Mom and the kids along. At the tail end of this long train of thought was Ida, standing there looking at him, waiting for the answer to her question.
    â€œNothing’s wrong,” said Frek, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m all better, Ida. Thanks for coming to sit with me so much.” Grimly he clutched some sturdy blue turmite-silk pants in one hand, a yellow T-shirt in the other. Get these on and then some leather shoes. Shoes, shoes, shoes. But first the—pants. “Stop watching me, Ida. You’re making me nervous. Get out of here and let me dress.”
    â€œMom,” yelled Ida, running downstairs. “Frek can talk!”
    A bit later Frek and his mother were sitting alone in the kitchen, the Buddha looking warm and friendly on his shelf on the wall. They’d had an early supper—though now Frek wasn’t sure what they’d eaten—and then Mom had sent Wow and the girls over to Amparo’s to play. “Call the counselors and tell them not to come,” said Frek. “I’m all better now. I don’t need help. I don’t want the Three R’s.” He kept thinking about the squeak and clank of the lid on the top of that little facilitator toon’s head.
    â€œThe counselors,” said Mom with a heavy sigh. “They’ll want to test you anyway. They’ve been coming around every day. They carried that Anvil thing off. They can’t get it open. They don’t trust you at all. Oh, Frek, if only you’d told them about the Anvil as soon as you saw it.”
    â€œI didn’t know it would turn out this way,” said Frek wretchedly. “I’m sorry. I wish—I wish we could go back to the way things were before.” He wanted to form a plan, but thinking was so hard. “What else have the counselors been up to?”
    â€œThey decontaminated your room while they had you at the service center,” said Mom. “And the last few days they’ve been up at Giant’s Marbles where you planted those seeds. Killing everything with poison and flame-puffers. They keep coming here to ask about you. It’s Thursday now. You were sick five days. They said they’d decide about healing you on the sixth day. Tomorrow. Thank Buddha you’re better.” Her hands were shaking. “You’re really better?” Perched on the knob of a kitchen cabinet was the tiny gray watchbird, one of its eyes fixed upon them.
    â€œOh yes,” said Frek, looking at his mother’s familiar face. Would he still recognize her if he got a new brain? “Completely well.”
    Mom stared back at him. Of course she knew. Lora Huggins always knew. “That’s wonderful,” she said slowly. “I’m so glad. Let me show you the garden. Those nosy neighbors trampled most of it last week, but I used fertilizer-pollen, and the plants are just about like new. We can play a game. I bet you need exercise. Oh, and, Frek, there’s apples on the anyfruit tree. You can use your angelwings to get the ones off the top. Your wings have missed you.”
    It was the first time Frek had been outside since they’d brought him back from the peeker. Spring had moved a notch further along; it was practically summer. Everything was green and rustling, except for some yellow leaves on the mapine. The air was soft and sweet. A crow was cawing. Everything about their house and yard looked so cozy and familiar. Frek’s heart overflowed with the