Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  Her countenance fell. “I practiced all night to make overalls.”

  “Practiced?” he asked as he swept up the glass. “You don’t practice clothes, silly.”

  Zurra saw the ingredients on the table. “Ohh! Geri, can I make the cookies?” She began bouncing up and down excitedly.

  “Whatever,” he said, sweeping the broken glass into the dustpan.

  Zurra bounced up to the table and grabbed the well-worn mixing bowl. “Okay, first I’m going to add in some sugar,” she said, dumping in the bag she had grabbed.

  “That’s salt.”

  “Then some flour...”

  “That’s baking soda!”

  “Then some white wine to make it fancy.”

  “That’s vinegar! And, you don’t put white wine in cookies!”

  Zurra stuck out her tongue. “Shut up! I’m not used to earth ingredients!”

  Little Gerald threw his head back. “Mom, she’s yelling again and making a mess.”

  “Gerald, stop making her yell!” Mary hollered back.

  Little Gerald dropped his head. “Ugh.”

  Zurra stood up on the table, knocking the bowl over. “Just you watch Geri, I’m going to practice real hard, and when I get good at cooking, I’ll make you lunch every day!”

  “Whatever.”

  * * *

  Little Gerald sat on the threadbare floor, flipping through the burnt remains of a comic book he had found in the rubble of the City Creek Center.

  “So, if a man ties Wonder Woman’s hands together, she loses all her powers and free will?” He shook his head in disbelief. “That is so messed up.”

  “Geri, Geri!” Zurra hollered, running into the room and stepping on the comic. “Let’s play hide and seek.”

  “Whatever.”

  * * *

  Little Gerald sat on the steps of the abandoned Salt Palace, kicking his feet as he watched off to the west as another spaceship full of people took off into the sky, never to return.

  “Geri, Geri!” Zurra yelled, running up to him. “Let’s go look for squirrels in the park!”

  “Whatever.”

  * * *

  Little Gerald sat on the floor, carefully drawing out a treasure map with a couple of crayons he had found inside an abandoned Crown Burger.

  “Geri, Geri,” Zurra said as she ran up behind him. “When we grow up, let’s get married.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Yay!”

  * * *

  Zurra clung happily to Gerald’s arm as they entered the circle of tents. Colors and patterns played over the fabric, depicting great battles from ancient times, great heroes and heroines of the old Confederacy, and the occasional advertisement for Daterum, the sonic deodorizer of champions.

  Vendors from a dozen different worlds peddled their wares to the locals, most of whom had little use for things like holographic social media chandeliers, crystal-powered head massagers, and foot tanning cream, guaranteed to remove all sandal tan lines or your money back. There was a discount crystronic booth where people could upgrade their implants. That seemed really reckless to Gerald. There were a few things in his opinion that should never be done with a coupon, and brain implants definitely topped that list, along with eye surgery and pet adoption.

  “So, are you gonna buy something for me, Geri?” Zurra asked, intentionally pressing her bosum into his elbow.

  “I don’t really have any money,” he admitted, trying to yank his arm away from her iron-clad grip. “I donate all the extra money I receive from my scholarship to the mission back home.”

  Zurra brightened up. “Okay, then I’ll buy you something. What do you want?”

  “Pfftt, good luck with that one,” Ilrica teased.

  Gerald looked around doubtfully. “I’m training to be a priest of Soeck. It is my job to separate myself from the desire for worldly things and...”

  He stopped in his tracks. “Holy crap, is that a light saber?”

  He ran over and grabbed the little utensil and turned it on, unsheathing a blade made of blue energy.

  “It is! It’s a miniature light saber! Does it make the noise?” He waved it around like a happy five-year old. “It does! It even makes the noise!”

  As Gerald waved the little thing around like a swordfighter, fencing and dueling against some invisible foe, Ilrica leaned in close to Zurra. “Hey Immestria, just what is he doing with that butter knife?”

  “It’s a human thing, you wouldn’t understand.” Zurra pulled some credit chips out of her butt and handed them to the surprised vendor. “Looks like he likes my gift quite a bit. This round goes to me,” she gloated.

  Ilrica frowned.

  There was a snap and a spark, and Gerald’s new butter knife stopped working.

  “Ahh,” he pouted.

  Not to be outdone, Ilrica ran over and put her arm around him. “Hey Gerald, you ever win one of these physical challenge games?”

  “Sometimes it feels like I never win anything,” he pouted, looking at his broken utensil.

  “Well, that’s about to change. Come on.”

  She dragged him over to a brightly-colored booth manned by a shady-looking gypsy.

  “Oh come on, these games are a rip-off,” Zurra complained. “They never let me win.”

  Gerald was handed a trio of cigar-shaped pieces of metal. Before him was an array of narrow-necked spinning cylinders, floating around in the air in seemingly random patterns amid a mist of sherbet-colored red and orange clouds.

  “Land all three, and win one of these beautiful Jintorian hand-stitched Ixriss dolls,” the barker cried enthusiastically.

  “So, it’s basically like trying to throw a hot dog into a wine bottle,” Gerald surmised. “There’s no way I can do this.”

  Ilrica leaned up against the side of the booth. “Hey, now, where’s the spirit I saw back on Chanterelle? The human who managed to return a volley against someone like me?”

  A grin grew on Gerald’s face. “He’s still here.”

  “Well then, go on and win this thing!”

  Gerald widened his stance and tested the weight of the bar. Sticking his tongue out for concentration, he tossed the first bar, and it slipped right into a spinning bottle.

  The barker cheered. Ilrica clapped approvingly. Zurra was shocked.

  “I... I did it!”

  “Now, do it two more times.”

  Gerald gained confidence and tossed again, the second one bounced off a rim, then landed in a bottle beneath it.

  “Well done!” the barker called out, a flashing siren coming out of his hat and spinning around.

  “Holy cow, I got two!” Gerald said, getting very excited.

  Zurra couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “How is he...?”

  Ilrica crouched down. “All right Dyson, one more. You can do this, I believe in you.”

  “Uh... okay,” Gerald said, astonished at himself.

  Zurra watched closely as the final bar flew through the air. Gerald missed it, but her eyes caught it. A microsecond before it ricocheted off the side of the bottle, the bar leapt instantly half an inch to the left and slipped straight in.

  A siren went off and holographic confetti was sprayed into the air.

  “I did it!” Gerald said, throwing his arms up like a little kid, his face a portrait of pure joy. Without thinking, he ran over and hugged Ilrica, jumping up and down in place with her.

  Zurra’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, were you...?”

  “Like I said, I’m his good luck charm.” She gloated over Zurra as Gerald hugged her. Zurra turned into a pink dog and growled at her.

  “We have a winner!” the barker said, grabbing a huge purple doll off the rack and holding it out to Gerald.

  Realizing what he was doing, Gerald released Ilrica and took a step back. “Um, sorry about that.”

  “No, please, feel free to hug me any time,” she said, her cheeks rosy.

  Gerald took the doll and held it before him. He was
so excited he couldn’t help but smile. “Wow, I’ve never won anything before...”

  A tent pole snapped and the confectionary tent roof collapsed. A woman screamed and covered her children. The broken shaft came down, the sharp leading edge snagging Gerald’s prize before impaling itself into the purple soil at his feet.

  As gypsies moved in to repair the damage, Gerald looked on at the two torn handfuls of fluff and cloth in his grip, all that remained of his Ixriss doll.

  “Boy, you just can’t have nice things without breaking them, can you?” Ilrica chuckled.

  Zurra scratched her long ear with her back paw. “Oh, he’s always been like this. If you actually knew him like I do, you’d know that.”

  Ilrica narrowed her eyes and growled.

  Zurra morphed back into her child form. “Back on earth everyone avoided him like the plague. Did you know, he was born on the same day that Tindorian ship crashed on Earth? Not just the same day, either, but the same minute. On his first birthday, there was an outbreak of McClellan flu that wiped out all the cats, on his second birthday, True-Life was brought to Earth to be sold. On his third birthday...”

  “Yeah, we get it, Zuri, thank you,” Gerald said, tossing his handfuls of torn fluff into a wastebin.

  Ilrica stood next to Gerald and put her hand on his shoulder. “The point is, he has more fun with me.”

  Zurra took Gerald by the hand. “No, the point is, I saw him first. The way to a man’s stomach is having your cake and eating it too.”

  Gerald realized where this was going. “Oh boy...”

  Zurra and Ilrica glared at each other, sparks of electricity flying between them.

  Zurra smiled impishly and grew horns. “Hey Geri, I have a question for you.”

  “Ugh, what?”

  “If you had to choose between your fun, energetic childhood friend, and some mangy wet mutt that followed you home, who would you choose?”

  Gerald wrinkled his nose. “What?”

  Ilrica snarled. “No, no, what she meant to say was, if you had to choose between a lovely, confident, capable woman, and some clingy, whiney little ball of crazy, you would totally choose the woman, right?” Ilrica’s ears dropped down. “Even if her fangs were a little dull, and her muzzle was a little on the small size, you don’t care about that stuff, right? You look at what is on the inside.”

  Gerald pulled free of them and thought for a moment. “I dunno I mean, I don’t really know anyone like those people you describe.”

  “WHAT?” they said in unison.

  Gerald laughed. “No, I was just kidding. Look...”

  Trahzi’s face flashed in his memory, and he froze. He felt a sickness in his heart. The tears in her eyes, the pain on her face. He felt responsible for it, as though he had cursed her. He wished they’d never met. He lowered his head and continued.

  “...Look, you guys present a false choice. Why do you assume that I would pick one of you, or Cha’Rolette, or even Trahzi? The truth is, you would all be better off without me anyway. You present me with a choice of A, B, C, or D, but the reality is that I should choose E, none of the above...”

  The air behind him folded in on itself, and suddenly Gerald found himself seized by an enormous man in a finely-tailored business suit. With one hand, he wrenched Gerald’s arm behind him, while his other hand hung at Gerald’s throat, his fingers stretching out and becoming metallic knives.

  “Let me make this very clear to you, little man,” Arevaz said firmly. “You break the Duchess’ heart, and I break your neck.”

  Gerald swallowed. “Okay... well that just certainly upped the stakes considerably.”

  Arevas released him and his fingers returned to normal.

  Zurra was shocked, Ilrica seemed amused.

  “Nice new suspenders,” Ilrica teased.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  The air folded and the Ssykes man was gone.

  Gerald coughed and rubbed his shoulder. “I suppose it was bound to happen. It’s been quite a while since someone tried to kill me.”

  Gerald clapped his hands. “Well, should we go find something else to do then...?”

  Ilrica and Zurra didn’t move.

  “You still haven’t answered our question,” Ilrica said.

  Gerald stopped. “I thought I had.”

  “Nope, you talked about what you should choose, but that is not what we asked. We want to know which of us you would choose.”

  Gerald looked around. A lot of people were staring at them. “I don’t really think it is a good idea to have this conversation here.”

  Ilrica stepped forward. “Gerald, what are your feelings for me?”

  “Wow, you are direct, aren’t you?”

  “Beating around the bush is for prey. What am I to you?”

  Zurra folded her arms. “I don’t need to ask him; I already know what he feels for me, we were promised to each other a long time ago... right, Geri?”

  Gerald cleared his throat. “Hey, how about we get some of that sweet cream? That sounds fun doesn’t it?”

  “But...”

  “Sweet cream! Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  As Gerald ran over to the booth, Ilrica snorted in irritation. Zurra turned into a pink honey badger and hissed at him.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Cha’Rolette floated into the tent, looking around for them. Ilrica and Zurra were finishing their sweet cream, while Gerald held his untouched cone in his hand, melted drips running down his elbow.

  What did I miss?

  “Only the funniest thing we’ve seen all day.” Ilrica grabbed at the clasp on Gerald’s facemask. A shrill alarm went off, and Gerald was zapped by an electrical charge.

  Ilrica burst out laughing.

  “Apparently the mask is glitched. Trying to remove it to eat activates the emergency charge.”

  Gerald picked himself up. “Stop doing that, Ilrica!”

  “Serves you right for being a coward.”

  He flicked some of the melted sweet cream off his hand, and walked over to a wastebin.

  Zurra reached out. “Don’t throw it away! If you don’t want it I’ll eat it.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want it,” Gerald said, tossing the melted cone in the air. Zurra turned to a giant pink clam and opened up, swallowing the cone whole. When she returned to her adult form, the cone was clearly visible as it floated inside her.

  “Hey look, you can see it in my tummy, she said, shaking herself back and forth as it dissolved inside of her.”

  Cha’Rolette looked away. You are disgusting.

  “Any luck finding out about the drone ships?”

  No. My father isn’t taking any calls, and his secretaries stonewalled me.

  “Guess they must not want their jobs for much longer.”

  That’s the thing. They know who I am; the only reason they wouldn’t tell me is if they were specifically ordered not to. When we get out of this outhouse and to a proper planet, I’m going to make some further inquiries.

  “Hey!” the barker protested.

  Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Your planet is lovely. So... purple.

  The glowing purple mushrooms at the center of the tent circle gave off a sweet little chime. Everyone turned as an ornately dressed woman stepped out of the inner sanctum to greet them.

  “Attention everyone, Madam Nef’Flav has finished her preparations. Anyone willing to have their past lives read may come and do so now.”

  The crowd looked at each other approvingly. A couple of them cheered.

  “Oh neat, they do have an Oracle!” Zurra said. “Let’s have one of our past lives read.”

  If we must.

  Ilrica flipped Gerald with the tip of her tail. “You ever done this before, Dyson?”

  “Well, in my order the Stolleckian High Priests can do it. It’s normally not done until the Oathstone Ritual when you take your vows, though.”

  Zurra jumped in line before anyone
else. “Well, let’s get that done early. Maybe we’ll find out why Gerald has such bad luck all the time.”

  Ilrica got in as well and paid the fee. “Yeah, maybe he was like a dirty old man, peeking at schoolgirls or something.”

  “Or one of those pretty boys that marries really old women for their money!”

  “Why do you guys always assume the worst about me?”

  Madam Ne’Flav slowly came out, her aged hands looking so dry the skin was cracking at every joint. She took Zurra’s hand in a motherly way. “Which incarnation would you like to see?”

  “The first before this one, I’ve already seen the second and third.”

  “Very well, open your soul to me.”

  They closed their eyes and the two of them glowed in resonance for a moment. The old woman looked up and smiled, then waved her hand. A mist appeared in the air, and within that mist was the image of a Zurinite professor speaking before a large lecture hall full of students. Whatever she was lecturing about, Gerald could tell two things: First, that it was incredibly advanced, and second, that she refused to slow down for her overwhelmed students.

  “Oh, look at me, I’m so cool!” Zurra gushed.

  Ilrica opened a window and ran a search. “According to Central, that is Professor Urabin, third daughter of Senator Tau’sin...”

  Zurra’s eyes went wide. “I met a Tau’sin back on Sloi. Oh my goodness, she could be my granddaughter! I’m gonna call her and say hi when we get back to the ship.”

  “...she taught advanced botany at Tauis Mandarii from 44-504 until 49-011 C.E. Won three Torbel Acheivement awards for her scholarly papers and research. According to Central everyone called her the pink terror. She was notorious for being completely humorless and inflexible with her students and colleagues.”

  Gerald leaned over. “This is real, right? This isn’t some sort of scam?”

  Of course it is real, don’t be disrespectful.

  Gerald stood back up. “Okay, sorry.”

  They both stood there for a moment in silence, refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

  Although I see what you mean. I simply cannot wrap my head around the idea of her being a scholar.

  “I CAN HEAR BOTH OF YOU, YOU KNOW?”

  Ilrica was next. “Show me the fourth one, that one is my favorite.”