Abarat - Barker Clive. Страница 25

"No, not yet. But take it from me, it's only a matter of time."

"You are joking?"

"No, not at all," Samuel said. "These people over at Commexo City, Rojo Pixler and his gang, have plans for us. And I don't think any of us are going to like what they have up their sleeve."

Candy looked at him blankly.

"You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Where are you from?" Samuel said.

"Oh… here and there."

Samuel put his hand on her arm. "Tell me," he said. "I can keep a secret."

"I guess there's no reason why you shouldn't know," Candy said. "I came over from the other world. You call it the Hereafter."

A broad grin came over Samuel Klepp's face. "You did?" he said. "Well, isn't that something! I thought when I first laid eyes on you stealing those cakes: there's something about that girl…" He shook his head, his expression one of delight. "You see, a lot of people think the Hereafter is a myth, but I've always believed in it. So did my father and my father's father, all the way back to Samuel Hastrim Klepp the First. Tell me more, please. I want to know everything about the Hereafter."

"Really?" said Candy. "I don't think it's very interesting."

"Well, it might not be to you , because you were born there. But my readers need to hear about your world. They need to know the truth."

"But if people think it's all just a myth, how will you make anyone believe it?"

"Put it this way: I think it's better to try to get them to believe in new things than just to be content to have Commexo run their lives. Curing everything from toe-rot to taxes ! I ask you! How ridiculous can you get?"

There was a new commotion from farther down the street, as more drowned or nearly drowned people were brought in from the docks. Klepp made a face.

"I'll never be able to hear you talking over that din and hulla-baloo. Why don't you come back to the Press with me—?"

"The Press?"

"The place where I print the Almenak . I can show you a little of my world, while you tell me about yours . How does that sound?"

"Sure," said Candy. She was happy to get off the street, to be away from all the noise and confusion, so that she could gather her thoughts.

"Then let's depart, before the pastry cook comes back and counts her scones," Samuel said mischievously, and led Candy away up the long stairs to the heart of the city.

T hey passed several more images of the Commexo Kid as they made their way to Klepp's Press. He was on a poster advertising his cinematic adventures: The Commexo Kid and the Wardogs , and there were several more advertisements for his Panacea. His face was on the T-shirts of children who ran by, and the toys they were playing with were plastic versions of the Commexo Kid.

"Do you have anything like this in the Hereafter?" Klepp said.

"Things like the Kid?"

"Yes. You can't escape him."

Candy thought about this. "Not one thing," she said. "Not like the Kid. He seems to be everywhere."

"He is," said Klepp grimly. "You see the Commexo Company has this promise: they will take care of you from the cradle to the grave, literally. They have Commexo Kid Maternity Hospitals and a Commexo Kid Funeral Service. And in between, while you're living your life, there's nothing they can't supply. Food for your table. Clothes for your back. Toys for your children…"

"What does Commexo want?" Candy said.

"It's not Commexo, it's the man who owns Commexo: Rojo Pixler. It's what he wants…"

"And what's that?"

"Control. Of all of us. Of all the islands. He wants to be King of the World. He wouldn't use the word king because it's old-fashioned. But it's what he wants."

"And you think he'll get what he wants?"

Klepp shrugged. "Probably," he said.

They were almost at the top of the hill now, and Samuel paused to look up at a sculpted version of the Commexo Kid that was mounted on the building that awaited them at the end of their journey. It was huge.

"Behind that happy smile," he said, "is a very cold mind. Cold and clever. Which is why he's the richest man in the islands and the rest of us are left buying his Panacea."

"You too?"

"Me too," Klepp said, sounding almost ashamed of his confession. "When I get sick, I drink his Panacea like everybody else."

"Does it work?"

"Well, that's the trouble," Samuel said. "It does. It makes me feel better, whether I've got a bellyache or a bad back."

He shook his head despairingly and dug in his pocket, pulling out a bunch of keys. Selecting one, he led Candy to a little door, which was so dwarfed by the statue of the kid that she would have missed it if Klepp hadn't led her to it.

As he put the key in the lock he spoke again, his voice now the lowest of whispers.

"You know what I heard?"

"No, what?"

"Now this is just a rumor. Maybe it's nonsense. I hope it's nonsense. But I heard that Rojo Pixler has approached the Council of Magicians to buy the Conjuration of Life."

"What's that?"

"What does it sound like?"

Candy pondered on this for a moment. "The Conjuration of Life?" she said. "Well, it sounds like something that raises the dead."

"You're right. It's certainly been used for that purpose in the past. Though the results are unpredictable. And they can be grotesque, sometimes tragic. But no, that's not what Pixler wants it for."

"What then?" Candy said. Then her eyes grew wide. "No," she said. "Not the Kid?"

"Yes," said Samuel. "He wants to use the Conjuration to give life to the Commexo Kid. According to my sources, he was refused. Which, if any of this is true, is all good."

"What was his response?"

"Outrage. He flung a fit. He kept saying: The Kid is a joy bringer! You can't deny him life! He could spread so much happiness ."

"But you don't believe that? About being a joy bringer?"

"Here's what I believe," said Samuel. "I believe that if Pixler had the Conjuration of Life, we wouldn't just have one living, breathing Kid. There'd be armies of them! All of them wearing that idiotic smile as they took over the islands." He shuddered. "Horrible."

He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. The smell of printer's ink stung Candy's nostrils.

"Before you come inside, I should warn you," Klepp said, "it's chaos."

Then he swung the door wide. Chaos it was; from ceiling to floor. There was a small printing press in the middle of the room and dozens of unruly piles of Klepp's Almenak on every side. Clearly Samuel slept in the midst of his work, because there was an old sofa against the wall, with pillows and a couple of blankets strewn upon it.

But what immediately drew Candy's eye was a number of faded sepia photographs that were framed and hung up on one of the walls. The first in the series pictured the lighthouse where Candy's journey had begun.

"Oh, my…" she said.

Klepp came over to look at the pictures with her.

"You know this place?"

"Yes, of course. It's near my home in Chickentown."

She moved on to the next picture. It was a photograph of the jetty that had appeared from the ground when she'd summoned the Sea of Izabella. The picture had been taken at a busy and apparently happy time. There were people crowding the jetty from end to end, some dressed in what looked to be frock coats and top hats, others—the stevedores and the sailors—more simply attired. Moored at the end of the jetty was a three-masted sailing ship.

A sailing ship! In the middle of Minnesota. Even now, having walked on the jetty and skipped that sea, the notion still astonished Candy.

"Do you know when this was taken?" Candy asked Klepp.

"1882 by your calendar, I believe," Samuel said.

He moved on to the next photograph, which showed the other end of the jetty, where there were several two-story buildings, stores advertising ship's supplies and what looked like a hotel.

"There's my great-grandfather," Samuel said, pointing to a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to him.

"Who's the lady beside him?"

That's his wife, Vida Klepp."

"She was beautiful."

"She left him, the day after this photograph was taken."

"Really?" said Candy, her thoughts going for a moment to Henry Murkitt, who had also lost his wife when he'd turned his attention to the Abarat.

"Where did she go?" Candy said.

"Vida Klepp? Nobody knows for sure. She took herself off with a man from Autland and was never seen again. Whatever happened to her, wherever she went, it nearly broke my great-grandfather's heart. He only went back to Hark's Harbor once after that…"

"Hark's Harbor? That's the name of this place?"

"Yes. It was the largest of the harbors that served the Abarat, so that's where all the big ships came. The clippers and the schooners."

Of all things to think of at that moment, Candy pictured Miss Schwartz, instructing her class to find ten interesting facts about Chickentown. Well, how about this ? Candy thought. What would the look on Miss Schwartz's face have been had Candy brought these pictures in to show the class? That would have been quite a moment.

"It's all gone now, of course," Samuel said.

"Not all of it," Candy replied. "That jetty—" She tapped the glass covering the photograph."—is still there. And the lighthouse. But all the rest of it—these stores, for instance—they've all gone. I suppose they must have rotted away over the years."

"Oh no, they didn't rot," Klepp said. "Remember I said my great-grandfather went back there one last time?"

"Yes."

"Well, it was for the burning of Hark's Harbor."

"The burning?"

"Look." Samuel moved on to the next to last photograph in the sequence. It showed a somewhat blurred image, perhaps the consequence of an old-fashioned plate camera capturing a scene filled with movement. The photograph was of the burning of the harbor. The buildings at the end of the jetty were all on fire, with smeared bright flames shooting out of the windows and through the doors. There was no attempt to put the fire out, as far as Candy could see. People were just standing along the jetty, watching the spectacle. She couldn't make out their expressions.