Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  Little Gerald’s short little legs had trouble keeping up. His mother’s eyes were panicked.

  “Mommy, am I sick? Is there something wrong with me?”

  Without answering she pulled him inside yet another doctor’s building.

  * * *

  Little Gerald stood against the wall, clutching his broken teddy bear. People outside were angry. People outside were screaming. His mother looked scared. She tried to talk to them, but they yelled over her.

  “What about my car? Your stupid kid just touched it and now it won’t start?”

  “Who’s going to replace my stove?”

  “He’s a delinquent! He’s a vandal!”

  An elderly man stepped forward and screamed. “I swear, if I see that little monster in my yard again, I’ll put him down like a stray dog.”

  * * *

  Little Gerald rubbed the tears from his eyes. “None of the other kids will play with me. They say I’m cursed.”

  His mother’s face was tortured. She grabbed another bottle of that smelly stuff and started drinking it. Little Gerald didn’t like that stuff. Mommy always yelled at him when she drank it.

  * * *

  “Something evil has possessed my son. Please, you’re a priest, can you do an exorcism or something?”

  The elderly man closed the box he was packing. “I’m sorry, my daughter, but the Vicar has moved off world. Even if he was here, I don’t have the authority to perform a sacrament from the Rituale Romanum without approval from the Vatican.”

  Mary looked like she wanted to scream.

  * * *

  Mary lay slumped over a table, bottles of booze scattered around her feet, an eviction notice clutched in her hand.

  Little Gerald stood near her. He was so hungry he wanted to cry.

  “Mommy, why do we have to move?”

  “Shut up!” she screamed. The violence in her voice startled him. “This is all your fault anyway!”

  Mary threw the bottle at him. It broke at his feet. His large innocent eyes went wide with fear.

  “How much of my life do you have to ruin before you are satisfied? Huh?”

  Mary grabbed her gaming helmet and walked over to her bedroom doorway.

  Little Gerald began to cry. He didn’t understand. He was scared. “Mommy, I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry.”

  He ran to her, desperately needing her, but she shoved him away.

  Little Gerald hit the floor with a thud. He looked up, blood trickling down his face.

  Mary turned back to look at him. Every drop of kindness was gone. The coldness in her eyes, the absolute loathing, it was as if a knife had pierced him through the heart.

  “I wish I had never given birth to you!”

  She put on her helmet and slammed the door shut.

  “Mommy...”

  * * *

  Gerald sat in the corner of the operating room, Cha’Rolette’s blood still staining his face and clothes as the doctors finished stabilizing her condition. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her except from the corner of his eye. A mask covered her face, forcing air into her lungs. Patches dotted her head and neck, machines generated artificial blood and introduced it into her system through arterial shunts.

  The door flew open and even more Ssykes men entered the room. Emergency defense fields were applied to the walls, extra monitoring equipment was installed, the regular nurses were relieved by private family staff, and an aetheric field was set up to prevent external monitoring. Only once the room was fully secured, was E’Duwag Ssykes allowed to enter.

  How is she? he asked the lead doctor, his short ta’atu alive as he probed the man’s mind.

  “H-her psychic organs were fully charged when she was injured. The physical wounds we can heal, but the psychic damage...” He shook his head. “A large piece of her soul was torn away. At this point it seems doubtful that she will ever wake again.”

  E’Duwag lifted the man against the wall with his power. Don’t talk about her like that! Don’t talk about her like she’s just some weak little thing. She may be a pathetic replacement, but in the end she is all I have left of my daughter, do you hear me! She can beat this. Do you hear me?

  The doctor was terrified. “Please, Mr. Ssykes, I am only doing my job.”

  Gerald couldn’t stand it anymore. He ran up to E’Duwag, but was blocked by his bodyguards. “Mr. Ssykes, I am so sorry.”

  Don’t you come near me, whelp!

  “Please, if there is anything I can do. Please, I’ll even donate my own body if it will help her.”

  E’Duwag narrowed his green eyes. You want me to kill you? Why? So you can be spared the pain of what you have done to her?

  Gerald was picked up by invisible hands and slammed against the wall.

  No. No, you live with it. You live with what you’ve done. Now, get out of here, and never come near my family again.

  Two of the Ssykes men grabbed Gerald and tossed him out into the hallway.

  Gerald slid down against the wall and put his hands on his face. He couldn’t get the image of her writhing in pain out of his head. He had felt the psychic scream as her mind was torn apart; her pain had flowed through him as if it had been his own. Over and over again he tortured himself. Her bodyguards were around her. She had been safe. If she hadn’t jumped out to save him, she would still be perfectly fine.

  “This is my fault...” Gerald said to himself. “I did this. She got hurt because she was close to me.”

  He pulled his hand away and looked at the dried blood on his hand. “It’s always been like this. Every life I touch just comes to ruin. I really am cursed. It was stupid of me to think that it would be any different once I left Earth.”

  Gerald watched as the Ssykes family surgeon arrived and the room was sealed from within. Ssykes men took up positions at the door and at all the hallway exits. Two of them spoke in hushed tones, glancing at Gerald as they did so.

  Gerald dropped his head. “I just... when I saw that scholarship... I thought my luck was about to change. But nothing has changed. All I do is hurt people. Even when I try to help them, something just twists it all around and everything goes wrong.”

  The bodyguard Thuquan came over and knelt down so he could speak discreetly. “Mr. Dyson, that sniper was clearly after you. Can you think of anyone who might have cause to harm you?”

  Gerald shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone who would do something like that.”

  Thuquan nodded and turned away. “It’s all right. This is really a job for local law enforcement anyway. They’ll be along soon enough. That’s not what I came to talk to you about.” He reached inside his suit jacket. “There’s something I want to give you.”

  Gerald’s eyes went wide. “If you are going to kill me, just do it. Don’t play head games with me.”

  Thuquan pulled out a metal plate and handed it to him.

  “What is this?” Gerald asked. Inside the plate was a three-dimensional image of a young Issaguardian girl in a beautiful ruffled dress.

  “Is that Cha’Rolette?” Gerald sniffed. “She was so beautiful, even back then.”

  “That is not Cha’Rolette.”

  “What?”

  “That is Cha’Roquette, Cha’Rolette’s twin sister.”

  “I didn’t know she had a twin.”

  “Few people do. The data has been purged from Central. This photograph is probably one of the only pieces of evidence left that she ever existed. That’s why I keep it with me.”

  Gerald looked up. “I don’t understand.”

  “The Ssykes family cannot have more than one heir. So, when Mr. Ssykes’ first wife gave birth to twins, they could not keep both of them. So, they kept the elder sister, and placed Cha’Rolette in an orphanage.”

  Gerald’s mouth dropped open. “She grew up an orphan. It all makes sense now. But what happened to...”

  “The Ssykes family has many enemies. A few cycles back, an assassin rammed i
nto their hover carriage and activated an explosive device. Mr. Ssykes survived, but his wife and Cha’Roquette did not.”

  Gerald’s eyes dropped. “That’s terrible.”

  “So, lacking an heir, Mr. Ssykes sent me out to find the younger twin. She had been bounced around from shelter to shelter, the system had lost track of her. I eventually found her living alone in the streets, and brought her back with me. Ever since then, she has been part of E’Duwag’s household, fighting to claim her birthright.”

  His eyes became distant. “I remember when she first arrived. She had this dirty little doll with her. It had been her only friend when she was homeless. The first thing Mr. Ssykes had me do was have it taken to the landfill.”

  Thuquan sighed heavily. “No one in the family thought she could do it. They said she had been gone for too long, that she had too much ground to make up for. She didn’t know any of our customs, any of our ways. When I found her she didn’t even know how to read. She barely knew how to speak.”

  Thuquan pointed his meaty finger at the holograph. “But the Duchess proved them all wrong, even Mr. Ssykes. She worked so hard that even he couldn’t kick her out, though he at times, he certainly wanted to.

  Gerald looked up. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  “Because in all that time I saw her struggle and sweat; all that time I saw her overcome and achieve, I also watched that sweet little girl I had found in the gutter wither and die right before my eyes. I’ve watched her almost every day of her life since she came back to us, and when she met you, I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her smile.”

  Thuquan looked up at Gerald. This mighty man, covered is muscle and cartel tattoos, had tears in his eyes. “You helped her find her smile again, and I wanted to thank you for that before I go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have failed my oath. She came to harm on my watch. There can be only one response to that.”

  Thuquan stood up and straightened his suit. He walked back over as E’Duwag came out of the operating room and knelt before him. Gerald couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he could feel the seriousness of the words. Finally E’Duwag nodded in acceptance. Thuquan reached up, placing two fingers on his neck, and one just under his ear. There was a small whirring noise as the self-termination device implanted in his spine was activated, and he fell over dead onto the floor.

  E’Duwag watched Gerald’s expression, savoring the pain and confusion as Gerald watched Thuquan’s body dissolve, leaving only empty clothes behind.

  Do not grieve for this man. He proved his worth to this family with the ultimate act of loyalty. He preserved his honor, and the honor of his people. When he is reborn, it will be into a position of honor. Grieve for yourself, human; you have no honor to protect.

  E’Duwag left with his personal guard, leaving Gerald alone with his thoughts. He stood up, looking at Cha’Rolette through the observation window. Thuquan had thanked him, but in his heart, Gerald could find nothing to be grateful for. He had taken this beautiful, intelligent, remarkable person, and reduced her to nothing more than a slab of meat on an operating table.

  In his mind, he knew it wasn’t really his fault. Whoever pulled the trigger had done this. But in his heart, he blamed himself and right now, his heart felt a million times stronger than his mind ever could be.

  Gerald pressed his hand up against the glass. Her skin looked so cold and lifeless.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry you ever met me. I’m sorry I came out to Central Exeter and ruined your life...”

  Tears began to flow down his cheeks. “I’m sorry I was even born. I’m sorry about everything.”

  Gerald fell to his knees and wept bitterly. He never hated himself more than he did at that moment. He wished he could tear away his flesh, discard himself. Throw himself away underneath a mountain. Somewhere deep where no one would ever find him. Where he could no longer hurt anyone.

  He stood up and slowly began to shuffle away. Then he began to walk. Then he began to run. He ran out of the hospital, out into the street, out into traffic, heedless of his own safety. He ran until his lungs felt like they would burst, then he ran some more. He ran all the way across the city, images of Cha’Rolette flashing in his mind. Her smile, her wit, her passion, her determination, her confidence, her strength.

  He ran until his feet bled inside of his shoes. He ran up into the Kalia Greir. Slowly, he walked past the closed doors to Zurra’s room and Trahzi’s room, then jumped inside the life pod hatch.

  The tiny yacht powered up around him. “Identity confirmed, Mediator Dyson. Please select destination,” the computerized voice said.

  Gerald’s strength finally gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

  “Just take me away.”

  “Please specify destination.”

  “Take me to where I cannot hurt anybody anymore. As far away from everyone else as possible.”

  “Please clarify.”

  “JUST GO!”

  The door closed, and the tiny yacht detached itself from the Kalia Greir, and swam into the night sky. Only once he was clear of the planet did Gerald allow himself to really cry.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Deal-Breakers was a hypernet dating service that documented and tracked the relationship behavior of men over their last few incarnations. It was widely believed at the time that the best indicator of whether or not a man would cheat was whether or not he did in his last lifetime. Protests and lawsuits by men’s rights groups attempting to shut down the service were routinely ignored by the courts, until Deal-Breakers began tracking the life-records of women as well. As soon as it became apparent that women were cheating at rates nearly double to that of men, the courts swiftly declared the service pejorative, mean-spirited, and unfair, and shut the site down.

  - A Quick and Simple Guide to The Galaxy, page 215, Tongzen Press

  While Gerald and Cha’Rolette had been sitting at the café, Ilrica was elsewhere in the city losing her patience. She tapped her claws on the glass counter as the people behind her in line glared at her impatiently. “Look, I don’t have a recipe. All I know is that it says in Central you mix corn meal and water, extrude it, then deep fry it and cover it with a cheesy powder. They’re called Cheetos, apparently humans can’t get enough of the stuff. I want you to make some as a gift.”

  The scaly man crossed all four of his arms. “You insult me. I did not study at the Mer’loti Culinary Academy to make these... cheesy puffs for your greasy little friend.”

  “No, you misunderstand. My friend isn’t greasy, the cheese puffs I want you to make for him are greasy.”

  “No, you misunderstand me. I am a chef, not a slop-flipper.”

  Ilrica narrowed her eyes. “You run a short-order deli counter. Don’t act like this is the Imperial Palace or something.”

  Ilrica felt the manager’s presence behind her long before she turned to see him.

  “I’m sorry ma’am, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Ilrica turned to look at the tiny man. “Why is it that the only time I hear the word ‘ma’am’ is right before I get kicked out of some place?”

  “Yeah, hurry up!” someone yelled from the back of the line. “Some of us don’t need to point at pictures to order our food.”

  Ilrica blinked. “Was that a racist joke?”

  The manager stepped in closer, and she got a whiff of his bitter cologne. “You’re frightening the other customers.”

  “Why? It’s not like I’m going to eat one of them.”

  “Yes, but they’re afraid you might.”

  “Okay, now that was racist! Besides, I’m already full, I ate a tourist on the way here.”

  The manager turned to the doorman and snapped his fingers. “Call the police.”

  “Calm down, I was just kidding... more or less.”

  The doorman reached up and tapped his translator. “Um, sir,
I can’t call the police, the waves are down.”

  “What?”

  The lights began flickering. Everyone’s windows filled up with staticy gobbledegook. People pulled off their translators and banged them against the wall to try and get them working again.

  “What, is Gerald nearby?”

  “The whole system is frakked up,” the manager said as all the registers crashed.

  Ilrica jumped to the other side of the counter, frightening the cooks. “Here, let me have a look.” She slotted a silver collar into the back of her neck and then drew out a cable from the register and plugged it into the collar.

  Her eyes moved back and forth beneath closed eyelids. “It’s not just your store, the entire city grid is under attack. I’ve never seen a viral bomb like this before. It’s almost like... whoa...”

  Ilrica threw her head down as if she had been punched in the gut. Her cable caught on fire, and the collar fizzled and smoked.

  She pulled off the fried device. “And that, little man, is why we use dummy barriers,” she said, patting the manager on his bald head.

  Faolan, we’re under attack, came a familiar voice in her mind.

  Ilrica’s ears stood straight up. “That can’t be good.”

  Ilrica swiped her glowing claws through the air. Everyone screamed in panic, ducking for cover. The world became grey and frozen. Ilrica ran outside and fell up into the sky, twisting around to get a panoramic view. She shifted her vision into the infrared and within a few seconds she saw the unmistakable trails of superheated air streaking in from the east.

  “That’s coming from a very long way off,” she thought to herself. “There aren’t too many people who can snipe from that range. That means we’re dealing with a professional.”

  Ilrica grinned, revealing her fangs. “This should be fun.”

  Ilrica flew over the remains of the frozen café, and found things under control. Cha’Rolette’s bodyguards were protecting her on all sides, setting up emergency fields, while Gerald lay flopped on the ground like some sort of useless fish.

  Ilrica shook her head in amusement, then bent her necass as far as she could, speeding off to the east at full speed. Already time was beginning to inch forward as her spell weakened.