Xanadu Weaving
. . . WHY DOES LITTLE ONE SHOOT AT THE WEAVER WITH METAL CURVED STICK THAT GOES BOOM AND GOES THROUGH TO MIX ORGANS LITTLE HOLE BECOMING BIG HOLE AS IT LEAVES I ONLY TRY TO WARN LITTLE MAN WITH SKELETON ON THE INSIDE ABOUT FRIEND OF ONE WHO WAS GIVEN WEAVER BODY AND GRAFTED WEAVER SOUL FOR OLD SELF HAD FRIEND CAME AS NOT-SO-DULL FLUTTERER THAT EATS THE SOUL AND THIS ONE WHO IS NOW WEAVER WORRIES THAT HUMAN MIND WILL LOSE CONTROL . . .
The officer kept his gun pointed at the giant spider, knees shaking. “D-Did it just speak?”
His partner nodded grimly. “Yup. In poetry, too. I think it’s trying to warn us about something.”
“Shit.” He turned to the spider. “T-try to speak a little clearer, please.”
. . . TAKER OF MINDS MUST NOT BREAK FREE FROM MIND OF OLD SELF’S FRIEND OR ALL WILL DIE NO CITY NO CITY FAMILY OF OLD SELF IN CITY MUST PROTECT . . .
“From what, exactly?”
. . . SLAAAKE MOOOTH . . .
Ten or so members of the milling crowd screamed on hearing that. The Weaver pointed to one, a girl with ruby red hair and bright green skin.
. . . COME HELP EXPLAIN FOR THE WEAVER LITTLE ONE YOU KNOW THE FLUTTERING EVIL I SPEAK OF YOU CAN STOP MY FRIEND FROM DEVOURING . . .
“Do you know something about this, missy?” asked the first cop, with a sigh.
“Y-Yes, or at least I think I do. I hope not, but if that’s really a Weaver there’s no other explanation. And since I’m suddenly Poison Ivy, it does make sense.”
“What does, kid?”
“I’m not a—well, I suppose I am. Never mind.
“Anyway, I think two people must have come dressed as two monsters from a book called Perdido Street Station. And the slake moth is a cross between a moth, a human and a squid that’s about the size of a bear and eats human thought.” ‘Poison Ivy’ sighed. “Good news, Weavers don’t think like humans. Bad news, they’re about evenly matched if it comes to a fight.”
. . . GOOD NEWS GOOD NEWS GOOD NEWS SLAKE MOTH STILL REMEMBERS SELF MORE THAN WEAVER DOES NO RIPS IN THE WEAVE SO FAR MAY YET SAVE IF HURRYING OCCURS . . .
Poison Ivy gave a relieved sigh. “Good. I don’t know if a full-grown slake moth can live off of hallucinogens the way a caterpillar can, but we can try at least.”
“Live off of what?” asked the second cop.
“Hallucinogens. Drugs. It’s that or people, I think you can choose the right answer for yourselves.”
“Can’t we just kill it?”
Poison Ivy glared. “For all we know it’s a little kid in a bug costume. And it’s still aware that it’s a human, or this city would be lost already. Now get going, before that changes! Dumbass.”
. . . FOLLOW WEAVER DOES NOT REMEMBER HER NAME BUT WEAVER REMEMBERS WHERE FRIEND WAS BEFORE EVERYTHING CHANGED COME I WILL TAKE YOU . . .
The Weaver grabbed them and disappeared into the webways, appearing again in front of a giant, terrified moth-like creature. Its wings were folded away, luckily.
What the fuck is going on?
. . . EVERYONE BECOMES COSTUME GREAT SPELL HAS BEEN CAST TOOK BITS OF SOULS FROM STORY WORLDS ADDED THEM TO COSTUME WEARERS YOU LUCKY BODY OF SLAKE MOTH MIND OF HUMAN SELF MOSTLY BE STONG FIGHT OR CITY DIES I LESS LUCKY AM MOSTLY WEAVER BODY AND MIND . . .
The first cop shuddered, but managed to smile. “I’m Officer Johnson and this is Officer Smith. We’re just going to take you over to the little hospital we’ve got going and look you over, okay? The girl in green here says you eat strong drugs, if that turns out to be true I guess we’ll have to take some out of the evidence locker or whatever.”
The moth monster attempted to grin. Oh thank you thank you, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I-I’m really a slake moth?
“Apparently,” said Smith. “Never read the book, myself.”
I really, really hope you’re right about the drugs, then. And she fainted.
“What are you talking about? How could our daughters be insects?”
“And why is mine on drugs?”
The doctor on duty at the makeshift clinic sighed. “She is not ‘on drugs’—at least, not the way you are thinking. Her costume was a creature that lives off of hallucinogenic compounds. You’re very lucky that she responds to LSD the way she does, because the creature also eats human souls.”
“WHAT?”
“Yes, that was my response as well. But in the book the idea came from made it clear that if she gets hungry enough she can put people in a permanent coma by licking them for a few minutes.”
“W-What about my daughter? Is she the same as Bobby’s?”
“No. She’s both better and worse—she has mostly forgotten who she used to be, but at least she doesn’t eat thoughts.” The doctor sighed again. “She’s just a ten-foot tall spider that speaks in word salad and makes bizarre demands. She does sometimes attempt to kill people if they don’t go along, but it’s been rather half-hearted so far.”
. . . DADDY IS HERE DADDY IS DADDY GREETINGS UNLIKELY PARENTS OF INSECTS DO NOT MIND THE SPEAKING IN FLIGHT OF IDEAS STYLE IT IS A GOOD STYLE I AM OKAY I DON’T REMEMBER CALLING OF SELF OR OTHERS BUT ALL IS WELL FOR ME I SAVED THE CITY NO SLAKE MOTHS ATTACKING THIS PLACE THIS CITY THAT IS NOT NEW CROBUZON KEEP THE MOTH SAFE IT CAN COMMUNE FOR ME I THINK IT STILL HAS A MIND LIKE THE HUMAN MIND BUT IT KNOWS THE STORY WE CAME FROM I STILL LOVE THE FAMILY WILL NOT HURT THEM HOWEVER VISITORS MUST BRING GIFTS I WILL TRY TO EXPLAIN WHAT IS DESIRABLE WITH CLARITY . . .
The Weaver’s father just stared for a moment. “. . . what?”
She says she loves you and won’t hurt you, but she can’t say the same for anyone else. She says I can translate for her, I read the book often enough to parse Weaver-speak. She says she’ll try to speak clearly when it’s important, and that she wants gifts in exchange for not hurting people. The Slake Moth waved to her father and the Weaver’s father shyly. We’ll have to get a bunch of mirrors, Dad, my wings are hypnotic when seen normally. The nurses stand there and drool whenever they come into the room without warning me first, it’s creepy.
“Okay, honey.” The two still seemed rather shaken up, but that much got through.
“Um . . . I’m not sure how we’ll get you girls home. You’re too big to fit in our cars.”
I can fly now—moth, remember?
. . . TRAVELS THE WEB BETWEEN UNIVERSES BEAUTIFIES THE WEAVE IT DOES THE WEAVER THE WAY HOME GLOWS FOR ME IN WEAVEWAYS . . .
Weavers could teleport, in the books. Or levitate, or . . . frankly, the Weaver can do almost anything—the problem is getting them to do it. They’re not exactly logical, which is why they’re immune to slake moths. It’s like there’s nothing there, the consciousness is so different I can’t sense it.
. . . YES YES I SHALL FLY THROUGH THE DARKNESS WE SHALL DANCE AIRBORNE NOT LIKE THE SPY NOVELS THEY HAVEN’T GOT AIR BUT SO WHAT I HAVE ALL THE AIR I NEED SO IF YOU LIKE YOU CAN COME WITH I WON’T STEAL YOUR EARS TODAY PROMISE . . .
And the strange new children so went home.