The Boy with 17 Senses by Sheila Grau Read Free Book Online Page A

Jaq’s stomach.
    The marketplace was a hushed collection of quiet stores carefully constructed to keep everyone from beingoverwhelmed by their senses, which happened whenever large groups of people came together. There were smells, but they were subtle and they melted away on a breeze provided by silent fans. There were noises, but the streets were cushioned and stores were equipped with noise-canceling devices that sucked up sound. There were sights, but the colors were muted and the shapes were straight and predictable. People kept conversation to a minimum while shopping, careful not to bombard their fellow shoppers with unsavory tastes or unappealing colors.
    Jaq entered this peaceful zone, passing stores selling food, stores selling home decorations, stores selling clothes, and toys, and all sorts of things. Stores with trustworthy addresses and fun and joyful names you could taste when you said them out loud. The marketplace had wide lanes and sidewalk tables for eating. In the middle, there was a big open space with a fountain and benches. Jaq loved the fountain. The hushed burbling of the water created gentle streams of color that filled the air around it. It was like watching fireworks.
    As he approached the fountain, Bonip scurried up Jaq’s leg, his back, all the way to his shoulder. The wipper’s fur was sticking straight out, making him look much larger than he was, and really fluffy.
    â€œLet me in the pack. Let me in the pack. Gorgeous pleases. Please, please, please.”
    Jaq hated wippers, so he lifted his pack into the air, out of Bonip’s reach from where he was perched on Jaq’s shoulder.
    â€œPlease, please, please,” Bonip begged. The little wipper was in a complete panic. “Bad man over there. Please.”
    Jaq noticed a group of men over by the fountain. He lowered his pack, and Bonip scurried inside, popping his head out to point at the man. “Him.”
    It was the Swindler. Sure as sunlight, it was him, standing next to his fancy hoverbike.
    â€œWhy do you think he’s a bad man?” Jaq asked.
    â€œHe kidnaps wippers from their families in the wild and dumps them into random fields with lots of other wippers. Then he comes by to sell the farmer a wipper-slinger, and the farmer is desperate, see, so he pays extra. Then the poor wipper is slung to kingdom come every morning, noon, and night. And when he’s not being slung, he’s off crying because the sophisticated farm wippers make fun of the poor country wipper.”
    â€œYou?”
    â€œMe? No. Just a guy I know.”
    â€œRight. Hide in the pack if you want, but I’ve got to talk to that guy. He has my Klingdux.”
    â€œThe swift monster,” Bonip said in an awed whisper.
    â€œYeah.” Jaq smiled. “I’ve got to get him back.”
    Klingdux was nowhere to be seen, but the Swindler had a fancy new jacket and matching boots. Jaq guessed he could buy a used hoverbike for what they’d cost. He could hear the Swindler talking as he approached.
    â€œGenuine gow leather—feel how soft. It feels like smelling freshly baked bread during a sunrise. Go on, feel it.”
    The man he was talking to reached out to touch it, but the Swindler slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch it. Just imagine something really soft. It’s like wearing a cloud.”
    His friends looked on with awe. The Swindler smiled. He was chewing glug, and he blew a giant bubble, popping it in front of the guy’s face. Then he laughed. “Who wants to buy my glug?” He took the wad of chewed-up glug out of his mouth and held it up. “All nice and chewed. Ready for business.”
    A bidding war erupted as people offered him money for his glug. It was a nice-looking wad of glug, Jaq had to admit. With enough of it, a person could make a soundproof glug room. All the great palaces and mansions had glug rooms. Jaq sighed just thinking about it. Imagine, no stray