Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

Cha’Rolette gave an exultant grin. This, my dear, is a priest of Soeck.

  Ka’Oppel’s eyes went wide. Seriously?

  Gerald moved to correct her, but found that an invisible hand was covering his mouth.

  Not only is he a priest, he is a human one at that. The only one in the entire galaxy, and I have him here sitting with me at my table.

  Ka’Oppel was crushed, but that defeat quickly turned into anger. I hate you so much.

  Cha’Rolette gave her a wink and blew her a kiss as Ka’Oppel stomped away, dragging her royal date with her.

  Gerald tried to pull the hand off his mouth, but there was nothing to grab. Once they were out of earshot, she released him.

  “What just happened?” he gasped.

  Another bite of food floated up into her mouth. Sooner or later you’re going to have to learn that status is not about how much something costs, but about how rare it is.

  Just as Gerald finished the last bite of his lemon, the old and wrinkled Tauseer came by and handed him a small clear tablet.

  “What is this?”

  “The bill, sir. On this world we use credits. However, if you are inclined to pay with beads and feathers, we can make accommodations.”

  Gerald snickered. “You know, I should be offended, but that was pretty funny, so I’ll let it go.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Gerald looked at the bill and nearly gagged. “Holy cow. Two hundred thousand credits for that little steak?”

  Cha’Rolette shrugged. You want the best you pay for the best.

  Gerald smacked his lips. “Well, it is certainly impressive that you can afford so much on a single meal,” he said, handing her the tablet.

  Are you insane? I’m a Duchess, I don’t pay for meals, she said, dropping the tablet to the table.

  He blinked. “But, you asked me to come here.”

  Cha’Rolette nearly choked on the bite she was chewing. The man pays even when the woman asks. It’s basic etiquette.

  His eyes narrowed. “So, by asking me here you basically just handed me a bill for two hundred thousand credits?”

  I would think the pleasure of my company is worth at least that much.

  He couldn’t hide how deeply offended he was. Even if the donation to the orphanage was very generous, forcing him to buy her dinner to get it was beyond outrageous. Heck, the donation might even be for less than the cost of the meal, and she’d end up making a profit off of him. She’d be stealing money from the mission. Stealing money from those orphans. He took a deep breath and clamped down on his anger.

  “I see. Well, then, it appears I owe you an apology.”

  Think nothing of it, she said, holding the bill back out to him.

  “No, I’m not apologizing because I misunderstood, I’m apologizing because I can’t pay for the meal.”

  She coughed, spilling some of her wine. What?

  “I probably won’t earn this much in my whole lifetime, and I certainly don’t have that much on me at the moment.”

  Indignantly he turned out his pockets and set a few credit chips down on the table. “This is everything I own, I’m sorry there is not more. I give them to you because it seems to be the only thing you really care about.”

  She was speechless.

  He bowed deeply. “Thank you for the pleasure of your company, Duchess.”

  As he walked away she sat there in stunned silence, unable to believe what just happened.

  The aged Tauseer picked up the tablet. “May I ring up your card for you, madam? We accept all the major credit services.”

  Cha’Rolette crossly fished her ID card out from her purse and ran it through the reader.

  It was just then that Ka’Oppel returned with her date, looking positively elated. Wow, Cha’, that was really fun to watch.

  Not now, Ka, she said, nearly trembling with anger.

  You’re probably the only woman in the history of this place who has paid the bill herself.

  I said, shut up!

  It’s all about how rare it is, right? Well, this was rare indeed, she said as she walked away.

  Cha’Rolette didn’t have to look around. She could hear the other patrons whispering to each other. She could sense the fingers being pointed. Already several of them were uploading images of this nightmare up to the holonet.

  She balled her fists. The tableware bent and warped.

  Okay, Dyson. Now this is now personal!

  Chapter Nine

  When Earth joined the Alliance, all of its literature, history, and video records were uploaded into Central Core. Unfortunately, it turned out that nearly eighty percent of all human data consisted of cat videos. It was widely theorized that cats were the dominant species on Earth until they were all wiped out during the McClellan cleansing, leaving the humans without masters, but this myth has been recently debunked by social anthropologists conducting interviews with actual living humans. Cats, were in fact, not a race of felines but a group of singing humans under Andrew Lloyd Webber, who wore large costumed ears and tails and danced around on stage for theatrical performances. The reason for this is unknown.

  -A Tourists Guide to Earth, 2nd edition, page 210, Valium Press

  As he lay in the hallway outside his room, Gerald’s sleep was interrupted by the realization that he was being watched. He opened his eyes to see two enormous men standing over him. Their finely tailored business suits clashed with the scars and tattoos that covered their skin.

  “Come with us,” one of them said, as he wrapped his giant hand around Gerald and snatched him up.

  The triple blue suns were not up yet when Gerald was tossed inside a luxury hovercar. Two giant men sat opposite him and two more sat on either side of him as the car flew away into the dark morning sky.

  Gerald tapped on his knees nervously. He had seen eyes like theirs before. The feral dogs wandering the streets of old Salt Lake City had eyes like those. Unblinking eyes, that stayed locked onto him for any sign of movement.

  “Um, am I about to be killed?” he asked nervously, but they only stared.

  “Madame Ssykes wishes to speak with you,” one of the men said at length.

  This did little to calm his nerves as he looked out into the impressive skyline. He noticed a pillar of smoke rising up in the distance.

  “Is that a fire? Where is that?”

  The bodyguards remained silent as the enormous Ssykes logo loomed overhead. Beams of light strobed in through the tinted windows.

  The car entered one of the smaller docking bays. Though the outside of the factory building was crisp and decorated, the inside was gray and utilitarian. Pipes, conduits, and cables lined the walls. Tall spires like monoliths rose up from the surface as the car wove further inwards. It[o9] reminded Gerald of the surface of the Death Star.

  The car came to a stop, and the door opened. Gerald stepped out onto an expansive factory floor. Enormous fabrication machines lines the walls. Workers moved about purposefully. Skivs and transports moved about in layers in the air, carrying and loading boxes and crates of every size and description. The Ssykes family crest was everywhere; a pair of serpents, their bodies braided together into the shape of a wreath, with a sword and sickle crossed at the center.

  Gerald was led up to a stack of crates, twice as tall as he was, filled to the brim with fruits and vegetables.

  “What is this?” he asked, looking around.

  It is the donation I promised you, dummy, Cha’Rolette said as she hopped down off of a passing skiv. The first of many.

  Gerald perked up. “Oh... oh good, I thought that you were going to have me... n-never mind.”

  She flicked her ta’atu back. A Ssykes never goes back on her word.

  Suddenly Gerald felt a little penitent for the way he had behaved. “I guess after the way things ended last night...”

  Come here, I want to show you something. She led him over to a wall which suddenly became transparent at her command. Before them were rows upon rows of spa
cious offices, with friendly décor. One area housed a lively party room where some of the employees were celebrating a birthday. Another area had an attentive day care. Gerald watched as one of the employees walked in on his break to spend some time with his daughter.

  You think I’m such a menace, but take a look around. These people have a safe work environment, they receive an honest day’s wage for an honest day’s work. Loyalty is rewarded, families are provided for. As they gain experience, their ability to produce is increased, and they rise through the ranks. They get more than just food and shelter; they get a sense of accomplishment. For everyone involved, the quality of life is improved. Is this the evil empire you thought it was?

  Gerald thought for a moment. “That depends. Do you want me to tell the truth or do you want me to say what you want to hear?”

  She gave a superior sniff. I’d know if you were lying.

  Gerald wasn’t quite sure he believed that, but then again he realized he really had no idea about the extent of her abilities.

  “Okay, then. It’s sterile and cold, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t do this because they are dear to me or anything. Mistreating employees is simply bad for business, nothing more nothing less. The happier they are, the harder they work, so I make them happy.

  “It’s all just math to you, isn’t it?”

  They don’t have my love, no, but I don’t ask for their love either. They aren’t here because they like me, they are here because they have needs. I am here because I have needs, too. In ancient times, people killed each other to take what they needed, but we have found a better way. The genius of business is creating a system that harnesses greed and turns it into an engine for good. Here, everyone can fulfill their selfish needs without harming each other or taking from another. THIS, my dear Dyson, is the pinnacle of achievement. This is civilization. This is... everything.

  Gerald looked around at the weary eyes around him. The vacant expressions. “If civilization means treating people like cogs, then maybe I don’t want to be a part of it.”

  Fine, go back to your dark ages. Go back to plagues, murder, rape, death and tyranny, and see which you like better. Go back to a time where the strong took from the weak on a whim. You wouldn’t last a day in a world like that.

  “Perhaps not. I’m actually kind of surprised you know so much about earth’s history.”

  You forget I can link with Central Core from the wireless nodes here. I can instantly access your entire history. More than three thousand cycles of recorded history and your race never even colonized the other planets in your home system. It’s pathetic. Even the Occatellans went from the invention of the wheel to rockets in a single generation, and they are morons! You humans basically spent your entire history murdering and enslaving one another.

  She motioned to the people around them. Say what you will about cogs, the reality is that cogs have value. Cogs have a function, cogs produce. On your world, life was worthless.

  “You have a singular skill for saying things that are hard to hear in the cruelest way possible.”

  But, it’s true, isn’t it?

  “Yes, it is. But, you present a false choice. You speak of only two options: To live in a world where life has no value, or live in a world where life is reduced to a mere cog. I reject those options, I’m searching for another path.”

  What else is there?

  He grabbed the prayer beads around his neck meaningfully. “Something higher.”

  A skiv train floated by carrying stacks of boxed goods.

  “But, I’ll admit you have opened my eyes. From what I had heard, I guess I always thought that Ssykes Industries was more of a war machine than a Costco.”

  Here, come over here, let me teach you about war.

  The floor beneath them became intangible and they sank down through it as if it were water. It became solid again above them once they dropped down to a floor filled with moving conveyor belts and lines of workers standing and looking down at the empty belts thoughtfully.

  Now, you see those two workers over there? She said, motioning to a pickle-faced and gelatinous pair of men who occasionally glared at each other from the corners of their eyes.

  “They look like they hate each other.”

  Oh, they do. For eight hundred cycles the sotarians and the boshweiks made war on each other once about every twenty minutes. Trillions of people were killed. For generations, religious leaders held prayer meetings, demonstrators waved their stupid little signs around, and beauracrats passed resolution after feckless resolution. Heck, they even had a campaign going for a while where everyone was supposed to wear these dumb little pink arm bands. None of it did squat to stem the bloodshed.

  Then the Ssykes family acquired the trade rights to their systems. Nobody else wanted them; they said the market was too violent, so we got them for a song.

  So my father makes it his little pet project. He starts building tish hatcheries in the sotarian swamplands, and somah mines out in the the boshweiks’ mountain ranges. Why? Because he knew those bosh absolutely adore tish, but they won’t grow on their world. Same goes for somah. Those sotas love it, but have no natural deposits.

  So, they start trading, and the minute they started trading, the fighting stopped.

  “But, they still hate one another.”

  Of course they do; they despise each other. But peace isn’t a feeling. Peace isn’t love. Peace just means you stop pulling the trigger and swinging the axe. You see, now their interests are inter-related. The sotarians know that if they attack the bosh, they won’t get any more tish, and the bosh understand the same about their somah.

  I told you I’d tell you about war and business. Business makes peace. The more interconnected the worlds are, the more hesitant they are to attack one another. To hurt another is to hurt themselves.

  “I’ll admit, you make a persuasive argument. But, it isn’t the business that’s creating the peace, it’s the connections between people that make it. There are other ways to do that, you know.”

  Ah, yes. If we were all part of the same religion, there would be peace. Tell me, how many holy wars have been started from that line of thinking?

  “By mine or others?”

  Yours.

  “Then none. Conversion to Soeck must be voluntary or not at all. If it is coerced, it loses all meaning.”

  So, we are left with my path which works every day, and your path, which could work in theory but never has. I think it’s clear which is superior.

  “And Ssykes, with its monopoly of the bosh and sota trade routes, rakes in a ton of money, I presume.”

  She allowed herself a satisfied grin. I would think that is a small price to pay to end the slaughter.

  A pair of skivs passed too close overhead and bumped into one another. Heavy boxes came loose and fell, threatening to crush the workers on the assembly line.

  Cha’Rolette held out her hand and the boxes paused in midair.

  Be careful, she ordered to the drivers as she levitated the crates back onto the skiv. Any time there is a job injury the government takes a big juicy bite out of this place. You hear me?

  The skiv drivers breathed out apology after apology, and the line-workers attempted to thank her, but she waved them back to work.

  “Excuse me, Madam Ssykes,” a manager approached, carrying an empty tray. “I have the new prototype model for you to approve.”

  Cha’Rolette’s ta’atu rippled as she looked at the tray, her eyes faintly glowing.

  Try tightening the connection, it’ll make it more sturdy, and increase the alloy ratio.

  “Yes, Madam Ssykes,” he said as he walked back to his team. His lanyard snapped off and fell to the ground. Another man had the chin strap on his helmet break and it fell off him.

  “That’s weird,” a third one said. “My zipper just broke.”

  Gerald scratched his head. “Wow, you even approve new tray designs
. Talk about micro-managing. How do you get any sleep?”

  She looked at him strangely. Tray? No, that was the new J’Sepp Drive motivator.

  “All I saw was an empty tray.”

  She tapped her chin puzzlingly. Oh, I forgot, you humans can’t see aether, can you?

  “No.”

  She covered her mouth to suppress a chuckle.

  “I suppose that is funny.”

  Well, yeah. It’s like... living on an island but not being able to see the ocean. I’m just trying to imagine what that must be like.

  She looked around in awe. So, you seriously can’t see 90% of what is going on in this room?

  Gerald looked about. “I see machines, I see people, I see skivs.

  Her hands dropped to her sides. That’s it? Wow. That must be so weird.

  Gerald took a moment to size her up, considering whether or not he could trust her. “Oh, what the heck.” He tapped on his brow. “Why not see it for yourself? I know you’ve peeked in here before. And by the way, shouldn’t that be illegal?”

  She shrugged. You could make a law telling people not to use their brains, but good luck enforcing it.

  “That’s not what I meant. I think something was lost in the translation there.”

  Her ta’atu glowed brightly and he felt an intense pressure behind his eyes. Rather than fighting it, he just let it happen. His vision split in two, as if he had crossed his eyes. The second image of the room hung over the first, then disappeared.

  Ch’Rolette broke the connection and stepped backwards, as if in pain. Holy cow, it’s like you’re blind! She bent over, looking as if she were going to lose her lunch. Blind, deaf, and dumb. How can you live this way?

  “If you’ve never had it you don’t miss it, I suppose.”

  It was horrible.

  While she caught her breath, he considered something. “Could you use your ta’atu to do that the other way? Let me see what you see?”

  She shook her head. It wouldn’t work. Your brain isn’t designed to accept that kind of sensory input. It wouldn’t know what to do with it. It would be like projecting holographic data into a rock.