poniedziałek, 27 lipca 2026

Kluki (fragment)



Here and there, among the grains of various cereals, dwelt kluki. These were beings infinitely small, yet at the same time infinitely numerous. So infinitely small that even all together, in their infinite multitude, they could easily penetrate an atom.

Each kluki had its own name. The names of the kluki were never repeated. This was possible thanks to the kluki naming system: the first kluki was named Ab, the next Ac, the next Ad, etc. The twenty-third kluki was named Az, the twenty-fourth Ba. Of course, subsequent kluki had longer names, such as Bae, Cenia, Karfa, Kloatoro, etc. There was also the problem of strange and difficult-to-pronounce names—for example, Fgldrzmm. A kluki, called the Caretaker of Names, was therefore appointed to select the names. Her task was to reject these strange names.

The gender of the kluki was determined based on their names. A cluck with a name ending in the vowel "a" automatically became female. However, this meant that only one in twenty-four cluck would be female. Therefore, gender determination was the responsibility of a cluck called the Gender Overseer. She assigned female gender to those cluck whose names sounded sufficiently feminine and did not end in the letter "a"—for example, Dloro, Plorff, or Jasemen. She also ensured that the number of women was close to the number of men. As a rule, however, there were slightly more women (the Gender Overseer was almost always male—currently, it was Zoraz). It was therefore possible for a completely feminine-sounding name to be borne by a man. This, however, was of little consequence to the cluck. They identified their gender by the scent given to each of them by the Gender Overseer.

Cluck, like all living creatures, were born and died. However, their numbers always approximated infinity. To avoid an excessive number of names, newborn clumpkins inherited them from deceased clumpkins. It was therefore common for younger clumpkins to have shorter names. The clumpkin who was fortunate enough to receive the name Ab became the king of the clumpkins, called the clumpking, for the duration of his or her life.

The clumpkins were so infinitely small that, although they inhabited Earth, they knew nothing of the world of humans or animals. They lived in their own land, called Klukraina, lush with vegetation remarkably similar to that known to humans, yet having nothing in common. This was a distinct vegetation, called kluvegetation. Klukraina also housed clumpkins.

One day, one of the clumpkins, a young girl named Mafrrenn, was walking along the path, picking juicy fruit from trees and bushes. She didn't take a basket, so she ate the fruit immediately. She hummed what was probably the most popular song in Klukraine – "Clover, Clover."

That same day, a young boy named Guagor was strolling along the same path. He was singing the patriotic song "A klukról will rebuild the wall." Careless, he bumped into Mafrrenn.

"Oh, be careful, young one!" the girl exclaimed. "You knocked all the fruit out of my hand! What if I'd been carrying the crystals?!
" "I'm sorry, little girl. It's my fault.
" "No one's saying otherwise. Where are you going on such a cloudy day? You're not going to the klujaga's hut, are you?
" "That's where I'm going. I've heard it has the power to heal illnesses and bring relief to those in a bad state. I'm going to ask for a potion for my mother. My mother is sick.
" "Don't believe in the klujaga's power, little boy! I'm warning you! You won't get the potion; you'll only be locked up, fattened, and devoured by her! The klujaga feeds on klujagas, and she especially likes young men, I'm warning you!
" "But I must go; you can't stop me, little girl."
"No, I won't let you go there alone. I have more sense than you. Although I was going in a completely different direction, luckily I'll figure it out and you won't be alone. The rain will hinder us, though." And I'll give you an extremely important tip: when the yaga asks your age, lie.
"Okay.

There were three places in Klukrain where no kluka would willingly go. The first, and also the worst of them, was the Castle of Shadows on Hate Hill. Although this wasn't proven, it was said that Tarfar lived there—a kluka three times larger than all the others, that his hands were eaten away by acid, and the right half of his face had been eaten away by the kluzak that lived with him. Tarfar allegedly conducted medical experiments in the dungeons of his castle, striving to breed a new breed of eternally living klukas whose sole purpose was to inflict suffering through torture.

The second such place was the Lunatic Prison in the Valley of Madness. Klukas almost never suffered from mental illnesses, but only almost. Once in many births, a kluka would occur who spoke backwards, in a voice lower than a bass, waved her arms in madness, and aroused widespread anxiety. Such unfortunates, for lack of a better place, were imprisoned in the Lunatic Prison, where they secretly developed their insane society, planning an attack on the entire Klujagi civilization.

The third, and perhaps least dangerous, place was the Klujagi's hut. Mafrrenn and Guagor also headed there. They had nothing to talk about, so they sang a Klujagi lullaby: "Sleep, Klujagi, I love you like a mother." Rain began to fall.

"How exactly do you know so much about Klujagi?" Guagor dared to ask.
"I know so much about Klujagi from Klujagi stories and legends. They say she's lived there for a hundred years, that she's lonely, and that she doesn't pronounce the "r" (r). For breakfast, she eats bread with raspberry jam, for lunch, pancakes with Klujagi meat, and for dinner, sausages and vegetables. They say she hasn't eaten Klujagi meat in five years, when the old fool Upral approached her to ask for directions. They say she is ugly and has a nose longer than her arm and seven warts on it.

Guagor didn't ask any more questions. The prospect of being devoured by an ugly old woman discouraged conversation. So they walked in silence, broken occasionally by a song.

They passed Wolak's house, the old gate to Balasz's courtyard, Pastor Ostor's church, and the hospital named after Dr. Rador. Until they reached the Klujagi's hut.

The rain continued, in fact, it intensified. The wind howled. Mafrrenn and Guagor stopped and then looked around. The Klujagi's hut was shrouded in perpetual fog, likely created by some magical means known only to the Klujagi herself—perhaps it was a coincidence, but more likely the Klujagi, known for her penchant for mysticism and her often almost absurd need to create an atmosphere of mystery and understatement, wanted to warn visitors, or perhaps simply shield the hut from prying eyes.

"Knock," Guagor said in a whisper. He was terrified.
"You knock, and it will eat you," Mafrrenn replied sarcastically, frightening Guagor even more.

Knock knock knock. Silence answered as Mafrrenn knocked on the door.

Knock knock knock knock.

Knock.

"Hmm, strange. They say the klujaga never leaves this hut."

Knock knock knock knock.

In all magical micro-civilizations, throughout the entire unknown world, kluks were renowned for their speed. As humans, humans have difficulty imagining the nature of this speed. A single kluk could, if it wanted, move faster than any other kluk, but only if another kluk chose not to catch up. There is an insurmountable limit to the speed of kluks, but they set this limit themselves, running at any speed. That's why there were no Olympics in Klukraine.

As a rule, however, the kluki were in no hurry. Klujaga was concocting some unprepared potion, the strength of which could probably grant her some power. She saw no reason to hurry when someone knocked on her cottage. She approached the door slowly only after tasting the brew, licking the spoon reverently and wiping her hands theatrically on her apron. Even though no one was watching, Klujaga behaved exactly as a magical character in a magical tale should. To heighten the suspense, she petted the black klukot, which she had apparently bred specifically to pet now, and hummed indistinctly in a creaky voice. Klukot, as if sensing the magical atmosphere created by the klukot, purred softly and warmly, ending menacingly, though still warmly.

"Who the hell is going on there?" Klujaga screeched, beginning the syllable "ko" where anyone standing on the porch could already hear her, and ending the syllable "sie" when she was three steps from the door. She did this so she could only yank the handle when a moment of silence preceded a moment of terror for whoever stood before.

Mafrrenn and Guagor stood before the door.

"Don't be afraid," Mafrrenn whispered to Guagor. She had to turn her head, because Guagor hid behind her.

Klujaga began to open the door. The door was brand new; Klujaga had recently replaced it when the old ones had fallen apart from age. It had taken a long time to invent a lubricant with the properties necessary to produce the ominous squeak of hinges—the new door, as if to spite her, opened easily and quietly. Proud of the effect she had achieved, the klujaga slowly opened the door, feeding her ears with each individual click. There was even a moment when she paused too long, achieving a senseless silence instead of an ominous creaking. However, she restored the weakened atmosphere of dread by remaining in the semi-darkness, further enhanced by the fumes of thick smoke. Finally, the nose appeared, followed by the rest of the klujaga.

Guagor was trembling with fear, and Mafrrenn was afraid. They were now looking at a terrifying figure. They turned, however, and looked at the klujaga.

She smiled insincerely.

"What brings you children? Would you like a cookie?
" "I'd love to," Mafrrenn smiled sincerely.

Should they go inside? They entered: Mafrrenn, Guagor, and the klujaga, smiling, this time also sincerely, still remembering the dull slam of the violently closed door.

"Sit down, my children," she said, and began bustling around the kitchen, pretending to search for cookies. She knew perfectly well where they were.
"Mommy's sick, will you give me some broth?" Guagor couldn't resist.
"I will," he heard in reply.

The klujaga were smarter than humans. Many times smarter. Each of them knew all their own thoughts—even those they had never thought before. They also easily guessed the thoughts of other klujaga, which is why they often didn't need to talk to each other at all. Unlike humans, klujaga never argued—and if they did, it was only to spice up life. The truth is, they didn't need to argue. If they wanted to, the klujaga would live in a utopian land, but they didn't.

"On one condition," Guagor knew perfectly well that it was on one condition.
"What condition is that?" he asked, so that the klujaga could respond with another question:
"Do you really want to know?" Now she sat down at the table, placed the plate of cookies on the table, and looked at the smiling Mafrrenn. "Do you want to know?" she corrected herself. She waited a moment and let them hear the answer. "I'll give you the potion, why not? However, you must perform four tasks for me. You will learn the first one today, the others after you have completed the others."

Mafrrenn and Guagor smiled gently, amused by Klujaga's slip of the tongue. It irritated her. Klujaga disliked such situations. She believed that a truly wise Klujaga was inappropriate to laugh. Everything must be as it is—one must not distort the world with a joke. This time, she pretended that nothing had happened, raised her head proudly, and continued:

"The first task I'm ordering you to perform is impossible. You must clean out Augustus' stables in a single day."

Augeas was a farmer, and at the same time, the only klujaga with whom the klujaga kept in touch and even liked, though of course she never showed it to him. Well, she hugged him once.

***

"She's mean, isn't she?" Guagor complained to the klujaga, walking alongside Mafrrenn and picking lower-hanging leaves from the lower trees.
"I think she's good at heart. She just feels lonely," Mafrrenn moralized resonantly.

The weather was beautiful. Sunshine and a warm, unobtrusive wind.

"Mean," Guagor knew better.
"Look! The stables!"

The wind deliberately brought in a larger cloud, blew more powerfully than before, whistled, grew colder, and stopped. It enveloped the vast stables in semi-darkness, and filled the klujaga's hearts with fear. Besides, lightning struck somewhere behind the stables. It was a bit out of place—it didn't fly out of the cloud and didn't even hit the ground. It was also silent. Klujadze had failed again.

"My Club, they're enormous!" Guagor exclaimed and swallowed.
"Yes, wonderful," Mafrrenn added. "Let's go."

The stables stretched for two kilometers. Red on the left, blue on the right. Augeas bred cloasaurs—the most terrifying creatures known, rivaling even some unknown ones in size. The cloasaurs were silent. Silent, staring through the small windows at the cloasaurs strolling along the buildings. Those in the red stable seemed to say, "You won't succeed, you will suffer." Those in the blue stable: "You might succeed, you will suffer." They all almost smiled.

Mafrrenn smiled. Guagor remained silent.

Somewhere in the distance, on the highest hill in the area, a hooded figure sat. She was petting a black cat and purring softly. She was sipping something from a hip flask. She was happy. Behind, in front of, and beside the figure, a delicate mist hung, greatly enhancing reality. This allowed the figure to observe whatever it wanted to observe. It could also hear whatever it wanted to hear. Thanks to this, she knew what she wanted to know.

"Look, that must be Augeas," Mafrrenn said, spotting an old, friendly-looking cat. Augeas was sitting on a rock, pondering something deeply. His eyes were closed, motionless. He knew a great deal. He knew so much that he even saw a bit of the future. When he noticed the two young creatures, he was delighted, stood up, and shouted,

"Salvete! What brings you, my dears?"
Then he added,
"I haven't cleaned the stables in ages. There are over a thousand cloasaurs here, just imagine."

Guagor tried to imagine over a thousand cloasaurs. It worked. They all looked him in the eye and whispered something, even though cloasaurs don't speak. Some howled and approached him quickly. Others were eating fresh meat. They were all angry at Guagor for some reason.

Mafrrenn saw a green meadow, with over a thousand cloasaurs grazing on it. Some were singing, others were discussing something important. They were all eating fresh grass and drinking from the stream. They approached Mafrrenn and rubbed against her gently. One lifted her onto his back and carried her across the meadow.

"Imagine how much cleaning there would be," Augeas finished. "Who would be involved? Back there, I've built a system of canals. The stream water flushes everything into a reservoir, which I clean once a year. I just did it the day before yesterday. There's no work here, I'm sorry."

The hooded figure choked. She raised her head slightly and began breathing faster. She generally started doing everything faster—she even seemed to be sitting faster.

"What are we going to do now? Klujaga will be furious," Guagor worried. "What are we going to tell her? Life can't be that simple.
" "We'll tell her the truth," Mafrrenn decided. "The truth is worth telling sometimes.
" "Don't worry. I'll talk to her," Augeas interjected, who somehow knew everything about the work, Klujaga, and everything else. "She even likes me," he added in a whisper, winking.

The hooded figure moved his ear closer to his magical reality-enhancing mist, so much so that he almost fell down the hill. Despite this, she didn't catch the last sentence. She took a sip from her hip flask.

"Be careful of those klujagas; sometimes they're even smarter than me," Augeas said, and walked away.

Clusaurs were peculiar creatures, unlike any other. And it's not just their appearance: enormous, hunchbacked, and covered in cream-colored skin, these creatures owed their uniqueness to their character. Yes, Clusaurs had character. More precisely, two characters. Some of these Clusaurs were characterized by a lively, energetic nature – these were usually also impulsive, often possessive, and sometimes malicious. Others, on the other hand, counterbalanced this by being calm, slow, even lethargic, and bored. All, however, were quite observant; the latter simply didn't feel like it. The former wanted too much. The result was that instead of building increasingly interesting societies and evolving, they allowed themselves to be tamed by the Clusaurs and confined to stables, where they thrived but didn't develop. This irritated the lively Clusaurs, but suited the lethargic ones perfectly. They were always locked separately—locked together, they could easily devise a way to escape. Together, they could also be dangerous.

Klujaga appeared in her cottage. She glanced to the left and then walked forward. As she walked, she straightened her head. She placed the clack in her hand on the kitchen counter. "The sewer system, yeah..." she muttered. "The sewer system..." She hadn't had time to reach for the cloth she'd intended to wipe the sterile countertop with when a knock on the door disturbed her anxiety. It was Augean who had come to soothe her anger, which he knew more about than Klujaga herself. The clacks now facing each other belonged to an elite group, to which only those who had received an invitation from clacks already belonging to it could belong. This group currently consisted of two members. Their common trait was an extraordinary mental strength, thanks to which they could hold the following conversation:

"So be it," the klujaga replied, thus acknowledging the importance of Mafrrenn and Guagor's first work.

Meanwhile, a pair of young klujagas strolled among the stables.

"I'm afraid of them," the first said. "They're plotting something. Look at those wise eyes.
" "They're very pretty, don't you think?" the second replied. "Klusaurs, klujagas, tell me something," she began to sing. "I know you can. Tell me your story. Tell me your plans. Well, tell me." Mafrrenn's voice was so encouraging that the klujagas almost learned to speak, just to tell her all this.
"Do you think they'll ever be able to speak?" They look as if they already can, only softly.
"They'll definitely talk. They'll talk even less and even better than we do."

Silently, one of the clousaurs from the red stable persuaded Guagor to open the door to his stall. He also persuaded Mafrrenn not to protest. Guagor opened the door to the stall of one of the clousaurs. Mafrrenn didn't protest.

The Clueless Turtle slowly began to lift its leg. He stopped, however. He thought for a moment, then planned to continue the activity called "leg up" for tomorrow evening. He had already planned to plan the "leg up" activity. He dozed off for a moment. Augeas, who used to talk to the Clueless Turtle whenever he saw it, this time passed quite quickly, still accelerating. He began to run. The Clueless Turtle perked up and, without any prior plan, was already planning "a sharp glance at the retreating Augeas." The leg could wait.

The Clueless Turtle passed the stunned Clueless Turtles and hurried towards the blue stable. He approached one of the Clueless animals there and began to speak to it silently. The exchange of thoughts was so rapid that within a second both Clueless Turtles were enjoying their freedom. They continued talking and within a minute were sketching the general theory of relativity in the sand. After a while, they invented firearms and began perfecting them. They also built a small nuclear power plant. Just as they were beginning to discover the secret of life's meaning, Augean appeared.

"No, not yet!" he shouted in a trembling voice. He pulled two small objects from his pocket and threw them at the arguing clownish animals. The wedding rings separated them forever.

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