The man relented and took the child. He pulled her in just as the doors closed.
Zurra screamed and pressed herself up against the glass. Her mother was getting farther away.
“Mommy! I don’t want to go!”
Terrified people jumped out, vainly clinging to the side of the ship as it rose away.
Her mother fell to her knees, weeping openly, her hand stretched out. “Zurra, baby, I love you!”
“Zurra began crying as well. “Mommy! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me mommy!”
Little Zurra began screaming. The guard held her tightly as she struggled. Her mother was getting smaller and smaller into the distance. The people clinging to the ship fell off back down into the crowds below.
“MOMMY!” Zurra screamed, tears falling down her face. “Mommy I’m scared!”
“I love you Zurra... I love...”
The starport was engulfed in a white beam. The guard pulled Zurra away from the glass just as the shockwave hit the ship.
Everything spun, everything cracked. Metal broke. Air rushed. People screamed. Zurra cried.
When she picked herself up, the guard that had been holding her was lying on the floor, blood pouring out from his helmet. People were so packed in they could barely breathe. She was forced back against the glass as the terrified passengers righted themselves. Below she could see the city burning. Everything was burning. White lances fell down from the black ships like glowing rain. Another Confederate ship, hopelessly overweight, sputtered as it tried to break orbit. For a moment it hung there in space, then slowly it began falling back down towards the raging inferno below.
Little Zurra trembled with fear. She pressed her face up against the glass. “MOMMY!!!!!!”
* * *
Zurra unfolded her wings as she came to a landing atop the caravan tents. The sun had gone down, and all the guests had gone home.
Doubling-back was the simplest trick in the book, and Gerald had fallen right for it. Right now he was probably still sprinting through town looking for her.
She changed into her child form and held up the tablet. Giggling wildly, she hugged it close to herself. This made up for everything she had to go through. This made it all worth it. The one man who ever really accepted her hideous form was now hers. The one person she had truly let into her heart, was now there to stay. She looked away dreamily into the night sky, planning their honeymoon. They would start having kids right away, of course. She wasn’t sure if humans and Zurinites could have children together, but she found it best not to dwell on such minutiae. It took away from the passion of the moment, and ooh boy, did she have passionate plans in store. Zurra blushed and giggled girlishly. She was so enraptured that she didn’t notice until too late that the tent she was perched on top of was being dismantled.
The tent pole was dislodged, and the entire structure collapsed. She realized she was falling just in time to grab the tablet before she hit the ground. Turning into a pink muskrat, she scurried behind the glowing mushrooms and hid herself.
“What was that?” one gypsy called out.
“Shh, quiet, we’ve got to get these tents put away.”
Zurra poked her long nose out curiously. The gypsies were all out in the dark, packing away their tents and booths as fast and as silently as they possibly could.
“Are you sure about this?” The head gypsy asked as the sactum tent was disassembled around him.
“Madam Nef’Flav is never wrong.”
“I know what I saw,” the aged woman said from her bed, grabbing at his colorful poet shirt. “That boy who bumped into me... that human... he...”
“She’s sure.”
“Well then, shouldn’t we, tell somebody?” another gypsy whispered.
“Are you crazy?” the head gypsy whispered back. We’ve got to get out of here. There’s not a government in the galaxy that wouldn’t kill every last one of us for that information.”
Madam Nef’Flav sat up, trembling in fear. “That boy is the reincarnation of the ArchTyrant!”
Zurra froze in place. Her body went cold. “What? No, it can’t be.” Her whole body shook, large drops of pink dripping off of her. She reached up and grabbed her head. She couldn’t believe it, she wouldn’t believe it! It was impossible.
Taking on her child form, Zurra ran out and grabbed at Madam Nef’Flav, startling everyone.
“It’s a lie!” Zurra yelled, tears falling down her cheeks. “You’re lying! Tell me you’re lying!”
Zurra shook her so hard the woman squeaked in fright. “No, it’s him, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
“NO!” Zurra screamed, falling to her knees. “No, please NOOOOOO!”
Zurra fell forward, tears running down her cheeks. Her mind felt like it was coming apart. She bent forward and retched onto the ground, crying and screaming and sobbing. It felt like every inch of her was on fire. She was burning, burning with pain, burning with disbelief.
The gypsies hurriedly gathered up the rest of their things and packed them into their starship. Zurra cried harder than she ever had before. Her entire body was wracked with sobs. She screamed so long her skin became sore from the vibrations.
A puddle of pink tears had formed beneath her. She slammed her fists down in rage and completely lost control of her physical form. Her body tore itself apart, twisting and writhing in bands of electricity and pink gooey flesh. Fingers, toes, claws, tails, eyes wings, scales and hair thrashed about in a terrifying mass of sickly grotesquery. There was no form, just random bits, like a tornado of animal parts. Pieces of her lashed out, tearing deep trenches into the purple soil. Boils formed on her skin and burst open, releasing bolts of lightning splitting trees and scorching earth. So many lances reached out into the night sky that towns for miles could see the storm.
But as violent as her body was, it was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart. She felt betrayed, violated to her very core. She felt dirty for ever having touched him; filthy for ever having looked upon him. She felt utterly used. She was bleeding on the outside, and bleeding on the inside. Her stomach felt like it was full of maggots. Her lips stung from where she had kissed him. She reached up and tore them off, throwing them aside, where they melted back into a pink goo.
Her mind was shattering with the realization. Her mother, her father, her people. She had betrayed them all. In her heart, she had shared a bed with their most hated enemy. The man who had attempted genocide on her people, nearly wiping them out. What would they say, what would the dead call out when they learned what she had done?
She threw her head down and retched again. There were pieces of her everywhere, torn shreds and dismembered pieces of flesh, a reflection of her shattered heart. What remained pulled itself into the tiniest ball it could. She was afraid—so afraid of everything. She wanted to crawl under a mountain and never let the sunlight touch her again. She imagined the eyes of everyone looking at her. They would know what she had done; they would be able to see right through her. They would see how filthy she was, how worthless. They would know that she had fallen in love with her most hated enemy.
Slowly at first, then with greater and greater speed, she began to roll. She rolled faster and faster, skipping over rocks and knocking down trees. She didn’t even know where she was going, she only knew she had to get there fast. In a few hours, the sun would be coming up, and everyone would see her. She couldn’t let that happen. She could never again stand before those eyes— judging her, searing her, burning her.
Somehow she found herself back on the ship, before her quarters. She didn’t know how she got there, everything had just become a blur, every noise a bizarre murmur, every light too bright. She rolled inside and closed the door. She locked it, then closed the blast doors. She opened the control panels, and entered the longest passcode that was allowed. She didn’t even bother to memorize it, she had no intention of ever using it again, she just banged against the runes over and over again until the maximum length was
reached. She pulled her bed over and wedged it against the door. She ripped her wardrobe off the wall and wedged it on top of the bed. She ripped her desk away from its fittings and wedged it on top of the wardrobe. She smashed all the lights and closed the windows. Finally, there in the dark, she curled up into the tightest little ball she could, and sobbed uncontrollably.
She heard voices on the other side of the door. She heard the doorbell chime, she heard them pound and call out to her in concern. But their pleas only terrified her more. She rolled over to the wave station and turned it on. A window came up with her father in it.
“Zurra, what’s wrong?” he asked, his face full of concern.
“Daddy...” she cried, tears streaming down her face.
“Where are you? What happened, sweetheart?”
“Daddy... I...”
* * *
Gerald could hear Zurra sobbing inside her quarters. He pounded one last time, but there was no response.
“What is wrong with her?” he wondered. “Did I do this? Is this because I freaked out about the tablet?” Gerald felt a sickness in his gut. He had never heard anyone cry as long and as sorrowfully as she was. It reminded him of when he first knew her, the way she would cry herself to sleep at night underneath her bed.
“Did I do this to her?”
“What’s going on?” Ilrica asked, walking down the corridor.
“Zurra’s locked herself in her room and won’t come out,” Gerald explained, his heart heavy.
Ilrica looked at Zurra’s door, then across the hallway to Trahzi’s door, welded shut. “Great, so now we’ve got two shut-ins?” She sighed and tilted her head back. “Don’t they know that just means more bridge duty for me?”
Cha’Rolette floated down the corridor. It’s time to leave, what is the problem? When she saw Gerald standing there, she looked away, ashamed.
“Last night Zurra tricked me into signing a marriage contract. I yelled at her for it, and now she won’t come out.”
Ilrica threw out her hands. “What? You started a new pack and you didn’t even invite me to be a part of it? I should break your legs for that!”
“I didn’t start a pack, she tricked me. She told me it was my diplomatic paperwork.”
Cha’Rolette drew out a cable and jacked herself into the ship’s network.
This is not a problem. My lawyers will have the marriage annulled so fast she’ll think a skiv hit her.
“I’ve seen a person get hit by a skiv,” Ilrica teased.
Gerald shot her a glance. He was not in the mood.
Hmm. That’s strange, she said, her eyes flicking back and forth.
“What?”
The marriage has already been annulled. The Sloi consulate pressed the annulment through during the night.
“So, what does that mean?” Gerald asked.
Ilrica slugged him in the arm. “It means you’re a bachelor again, congratulations.”
Gerald covered his face with his hands. He felt awful. He could still hear her crying inside.
Come, let’s give them some space. Cha’Rolette beckoned as she unplugged herself and spun around.
“This is an epidemic, I wonder who’s next?” Ilrica teased as they walked away.
Gerald sat down and leaned against the door. “It’s happening again, isn’t it? I’m hurting people again, aren’t I?”
Gerald berated himself a thousand times over. He knew how delicate her feelings were. Sure, she had tricked him, but he could have been more considerate. She had just caught him so off guard he’d yelled at her without thinking about it. He replayed the events of the night before over and over again in his mind, like pressing your tongue against a sore tooth. There were so many better ways he could have handled it.
The more he heard her cry, the more awful he felt. “Ilrica’s right, this is spreading. It’s the curse. My curse. Everyone who gets close to me ends up hurt in the end.”
Gerald looked down the hall at the two doors that remained. “If I don’t do something, Cha’Rolette and Ilrica and going to get hurt as well.”
* * *
The contractor stood silently at the end of the boarding tube. His clothes were simple and nondescript, his face an impartial mask. He stood without bodyguard and without weapon. He didn’t need them.
As the doors opened at the far end, the contractor didn’t even bother putting up an aetheric field. After all, his client had far more to fear from any recordings made than he did, and the contractor would be swapping out bodies after this anyway. The man he was didn’t exist, and the man he would be tomorrow wouldn’t exist either. Only one thing remained certain. Only one thing needed to be certain. The target would die. No member of the assassin’s guild had ever failed to eliminate their target.
Senator Immestria walked in, carrying a hefty suitcase. His face was troubled, but this was normal for the contractor. Happy people had no use for assassins. No, this was a man acting not for himself, but for a child. Probably a daughter. The contractor had seen the face enough times to recognize it right away.
Senator Immestria laid down the suitcase and opened it up. It was filled with bars of precious latinum.
“Who is the target?” The contractor asked.
Senator Immestria stood up, and wiped the tears from his eyes. “His name is Gerald Dyson.”
* * *
The assassin stood inside her alcove in the wall. So much of her body had been replaced with prosthetics, it was difficult to tell where she ended and the wall began. Like a doll she stood there, eyes closed.
The vault opened and the contractor walked in. “Assassin.”
The lights on the wall came to life, and her lavender eyes opened.
“I have your next assignment.”
* * *
Two days later, the assassin stood atop a tall apartment skyscraper in the Ebble Mountain range. The dozens of cables sprouting from her head hung down to her shoulders like dreadlocks, blowing subtly in the wind. At this distance, the curvature of the planet became a limiting factor, but this place was perfect, just high enough to get a good angle to the capital city half way across the continent.
The planet of Mara-Del had very good security. It had taken several hours for her to slice through the command’s defense barriers. Now that she had access, she broke off little pieces of her consciousness and began placing them discreetly into the defense satellites in orbit. Even with her running full interference, she knew she would only be able to fire five shots at best before the system pinpointed her sniping position.
Four more shots than she needed.
She sliced through a pathetic A.I. program monitoring the city’s communications, scrambling it so bad it thought it was a toaster oven by the time she was done with it, and began looking for people in the city who were careless enough to leave their wireless functions turned on all the time.
Within seconds she had found some. A woman crossing the street with her dogs was listening to her favorite interplanetary radio broadcast. She barely even noticed when the assassin sliced into her mind and borrowed her eyes. The assassin sliced through another, then another. Soon she had eyes all over the city, looking for her target.
The assassin couldn’t recall the last time she had this much trouble locating a target. Gerald Dyson was smart enough to keep himself off the grid. She hadn’t found any records of wireless transmissions or file downloads from his external memory that she could use to triangulate his position. In fact, if it wasn’t for the news interview he had given that morning for the Ssykes relief center, she wouldn’t have been sure that he was on planet at all.
Then she had a hit. Through the eyes of a taxi driver she caught a glimpse of her target entering the Butarian consulate along with an Issaguardian and a small Bertulf. The assassin marked the location and began slicing through the consulate’s barrier systems with part of her mind, with another part she laid out a fire-plan and began taking in planetary weather data. And, with a small part of her mind, sh
e turned to deal with the man approaching her.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” the guard said, his hands on his sidearm. “This is private property. May I ask to see your identification?”
She was on him so quick he didn’t even have time to blink. She pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. He was well trained, he had his wireless functions turned off, and his barriers set to attack, but that could not stop her. She reached up and grabbed one of her dreadlocks, each of which ended in a specialized port, and jammed it into the plug on the back of his neck.
The man struggled, his eyes rolling back, his body convulsing. Then, he stilled, and she got up off of him.
The guard stood up and shook his head. “Hey, Sarai! It’s good to see you,” he greeted warmly. She gave no reaction as he stepped forward and embraced her. “Oh my, it’s been forever, I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I just got in.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I wish you would have called me, I’m on duty right now, but after work we should totally get together and catch up.”
“I need to get into the north corner penthouse, can you help me?”
“The Tyo’sen’s place? Yeah, sure, I’d be happy to help. Here, let me get my access keys out of the vault for you.”
The guard led her through the building, talking about old times like they had known each other since they were kids, all the while she followed him like a soulless marionette.
The Tyo’sen family was surprised when their front door slid open. The father stood up from where he had been sitting on the couch. The children looked up in wonder. The mother was scared. “Is there a problem, Officer?”
The assassin plugged her dreadlock into the panel on the wall, slicing through the apartment’s internal network.
The family all fell to the floor, grabbing their heads and shaking about. A moment later, the assassin removed the cable and they all stood up.
“Mr. Tyo’sen, you remember Sarai,” the guard said cheerfully.
“Why, of course. Hello Sarai, did you just get into town?”
The assassin stepped in and looked out the north window. This was the perfect spot. “I need to setup my equipment here.”
Kharmic Rebound Page 49