Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  “But what if the duchess is in that part of her mind?” Zurra warned.

  “Duchess, are you...”

  QUIET!

  Cha’Rolette’s whole body was shaking. She could barely keep on her feet.

  One of the machines connected to Nikki exploded. Gerald moved to put out the fire with the hem of his robes, but only managed to smother a bit of it before being doused from head to toe with foam by the anti-fire system.

  “We’ll just have to trust the duchess to pull herself out of that sector,” Ilrica said.

  “Cutting it out,” Trahzi said.

  “Inserting antigen code.”

  Cha’Rolette’s ta’atu pulsed dimmer and dimmer. She bit her own tongue to keep herself from passing out.

  I... can... do... this... she strained, blood trickling down her chin.

  Nikki’s body began shaking violently on the bed. Gerald tried to hold her steady.

  “Destroying infected sector,” Trahzi announced.

  Cha’Rolette’s collar exploded and she collapsed forward onto her desk.

  “Crap, the Duchess was still in there,” Ilrica yelled, disconnecting herself and leaping over to her. She grabbed Cha’Rolette and placd her hand on her chest. “Her heart stopped. Get me a crash cart.”

  Zurra slapped her hand against the wall and the stone next to Ilrica reformed itself into a medical panel. Ilrica attached the cordical stimulators to Cha’Rolette’s forhead, then slapped a defibrillator patch onto her chest.

  Cha’Rolette’s body bowed as the device tried injected nanomeds and attempted to start up her heart again.

  Trahzi and Zurra ran over, attaching monitors to the duchess.

  Her body bowed again, but the monitors that grew down from the ceiling showed no activity. Everyone looked on in concern.

  “Come on,” Ilrica encouraged. “I am not giving you mouth-to mouth. I’d never hear the end of it.”

  The rest of the machines in the room went dark. Nikki’s dreadlocks fell out and clattered to the floor. She wasn’t moving.

  Cha’Rolette’s body bowed a third time, and her heart started beating again. Her eyes sprung open and her ta’atu flashed, sending a wave across the room that picked everyone off of their feet. Zurra splattered against the wall. Gerald was able to snag Cadbury and the puppy out of the air before landing hard on his back, shielding them.

  Trahzi and Zurra were knocked to the ground. Cha’Rolette drew in a painful breath, then turned her head to the side, coughing up blood.

  “I... I can’t move,” Zurra bubbled as she slid down the wall to the floor.

  “Me neither,” Gerald groaned.

  “Psychic feedback, it’ll pass,” Ilrica moaned. “...eventually.”

  There was a stirring on the bed, and Nikki sat up, her lavender eyes cold and empty.

  “Oh no,” Ilrica said, fighting to move her arms.

  Nikki looked around mechanically. “I remember.”

  “That’s good, right?” Zurra asked.

  Nikki stood up and flipped out her blade. It hummed to glowing life. She pointed it at Gerald. “I remember that you are Gerald Dyson, my target.”

  “No, it’s not,” Trahzi said.

  Nikki sliced in half a crystal bay and kicked it aside, clearing a path to Gerald where he lay. Her chainsaw flipped out of her other arm. “I remember that no member of the Assassin’s Guild has ever failed to kill their target.”

  “I told you this would happen,” Ilrica yelled, barely able to lift her head.

  Gerald tried to sit up, but his body was paralyzed.

  Nikki stepped up to him, her shoulders unfolding into a pair of laser cannons. “I remember every person I have ever killed. Every mission I have ever been assigned to.”

  The lasers powered up. Her needle launchers flipped open on her thighs. Her chest opened up into a cannon barrel. She held her blade up to Gerald’s throat.

  Cha’Rolette coughed up more blood, then held out her hand weakly. Please, don’t hurt him!

  Gerald froze as the blade hovered an inch from his throat. He could feel the humming heat coming off of it.

  Suddenly there was a fizzle of evaporating liquid.

  Then another fizzle.

  Despite his fear, Gerald forced himself to look up.

  There were tears in her eyes. They were dripping down onto the blade.

  “My... my only purpose is to kill you,” she said, her synthetic voice shaky. “I am a weapon... but hurting people is bad...”

  Another drip fizzled on her blade.

  “My programming says that I must kill you. But... I... I don’t want to hurt people anymore.”

  Gerald tried to make his voice steady. Gently he reached up and patted her on the head. “Then don’t.”

  Slowly her weapons powered down and folded away.

  Trahzi managed to get up on one elbow, scooting towards them.

  Nikki looked around in confusion. “I... I can remember being in my bed, the night they took me from my home. I remember how scared I was.”

  Nikki fell onto Gerald and cried on his shoulder. “I remember when they built up a wall behind my eyes, forcing me to forget.”

  Ilrica managed to sit up and scoot over to Cha’Rolette.

  “You okay?”

  Cha’Rolette coughed again, her hands trembling in pain. Yes, I’ll be all right.

  Zurra bubbled up, half forming herself. “You know... a rolling stone gathers any port in a storm,” she foamed drippily.

  “I remember when they sealed me away, forcing me to watch,” Nikki sobbed. “They strapped down my arms and legs, and they... and they took a saw...” She grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes widened with terror.

  Cha’Rolette coughed. She couldn’t get her left hand to open. You could see what was happening, even behind the mind wipe?

  Nikki nodded. “I remember being a prisoner in my own body, forced to watch as I did horrible things. I couldn’t look away from it. I couldn’t even blink.”

  Gerald stroked her head and held her tight, trying to soothe her. “Do you remember anything from before? Do you remember your name? Your family?”

  “Yes, I can remember now. My daddy called me Kalia.”

  Her eyes went wide. “I remember my father,” she sniffed. “I called out for him when they pulled me through the window that night. I screamed for him until they put me to sleep, but he never found me.”

  “Can you show him to us?”

  She plugged a dreadlock into a wall monitor and a window opened up, showing a youngish man with a long face and white hair.

  Ilrica managed to get to her feet. “It’s kind of blurry. I don’t think a facial recognition will work.”

  She helped Cha’Rolette up. That’s normal after reconstruction. Her crystronics will adjust with time.

  Gerald squinted at the picture, then his eyes went wide. He ran his fingers through the dreadlocks over her right ear, exposing the skin there, and found what he was looking for, a pink misshapen birthmark.

  “I think I know who she is!”

  * * *

  Admiral Greir burst through the door, his clothes disheveled from having hastily dressed himself. “Where is my daughter? Tell me you found her!”

  Gerald helped her to the front. They had dressed her in a white sun dress, similar to the one she wore when she was a child. She bubbled over with equal parts excitement and nervous anticipation.

  They recognized each other instantly.

  “Kalia!” he yelled, throwing off his hat and running to her.

  “Daddy!” she screamed, running to him.

  They collided into each other, falling to the floor and embracing in tears of joy.

  “Oh Kalia! It’s you, it’s really you!”

  “Daddy! I was so scared! I missed you so much!”

  They embraced each other with all the energy of their hearts. It was like finding an oasis of water in a desert.

  Admiral Greir’s tears fell like waterfalls along his aged face as
his kissed his daughter on the cheek, squeezing her so tightly she let out a little groan.

  Kalia wrapped her arms around his waist and cried into his chest.

  “They made me do bad things, daddy,” she sobbed. “They made me hurt people.”

  “It’s all over now, sweetheart. You’re safe again. You’re back with me and you’re safe. I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again.”

  “They made me forget!” Kalia sobbed. “They made me forget you! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

  He kissed her forehead. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m just so happy to hold you again! I looked for you for so long. I had given up hope. Now, here you are!”

  There was not a dry eye in the room. Gerald looked on, his heart filled with joy for them both. Cha’Rolette took his hand and squeezed, her eyes filled with emotion. Trahzi gave her puppy a kiss, her heart brimming. Zurra jumped up and down, hugging Gerald’s leg and cheering the new family on. Even Ilrica couldn’t hide how moved she was.

  Greir breathed in gasps, his mouth hanging open. “Oh, my little girl. I’m so happy they found you. I thought I would grow old and die without ever seeing you again. I’ll never let you go again!”

  Kalia wiped her tears on his shirt. “I love you daddy! I love you so much!”

  They held each other like that for the longest time, breathing out declarations of love as often as they could, trying to make up for a lifetime of lost opportunities. Despite the passage of time, no one got bored. This reunion was so wonderful to behold it could have gone on for days and no one would have complained. This was sweeter than any food, more satisfying than any drink, more rejuvenating than any sleep, more fulfilling than any accomplishment. The bond between parent and child was as real and powerful as the day it was forged, a connection that time, malice, and unbreakable walls of technology had attempted to sever, yet here it was, triumphant over seemingly impossible odds.

  Gerald bowed his head and said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that such happiness existed. He wished it upon not just Kalia, but all his friends. It never even occurred to him to ask it for himself.

  Slowly, time started moving again, the world started spinning once more. Running low on tears, Kalia sniffed and sat back, so happy she didn’t know what to do. She reached out and touched her father’s face. “You got old, daddy,” she giggled, feeling a little silly.

  “I know,” he said, sniffing happily. “You look different too. You’re all grown up now. You’re not a little girl anymore. You’ve become this beautiful young lady.”

  They both laughed, deciding they didn’t care, and embraced anew.

  “But you’re still my daddy.”

  “And you’re still my baby.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  When a tragedy occurs, do not say that your thoughts are with the victims. People do not need thoughts, they need blankets, they need food, they need water, they need shelter. They need a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold. All the cumulative thoughts from every sentient being that has ever existed is worth less than a single glass of water given to a thirsty person.

  - Holy Scrolls of Soeck, Eighteenth Binding, Fourteenth Stanza

  Gerald was awakened by the sound of his door being kicked in. It buckled and snapped off its hinges, sailing across the room and slamming into the far wall.

  “What the crap?” Gerald yelled.

  “GERI!” Zurra screamed, running in the fear of death of her face.

  “Geri, Geri, Geri, Geri, help meeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” Zurra yelled, wrapping herself around his midsection like a snake.

  “Wha... what is world is wrong with you, Zuri?” Gerald asked, trying to get his bearings.

  “In my room...” she gasped. “In my room, kill it! Kill it now!”

  “Kill what?”

  “The spider!”

  Gerald rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into Zurra’s bathroom, Zurra hiding behind him like a frightened child.

  “Zuri, I’ve seen you punch holes through mountains,” Gerald grumbled. “Why in the world would you be scared of a little spider?”

  “It’s icky!” she hollered, shoving him forward. “Now kill it!”

  “There is literally nothing it could do to you that would actually hurt you. I’ve seen you get sucked through a crystronic wood-chipper.”

  Zurra puffed out her cheeks in anger. “Oh, boys are so stupid. It’s not about getting hurt. It’s about the ICKY FACTOR!”

  Gerald yawned and turned to leave. “Well, if boys are so stupid, then a smart girl like you can solve it herself.”

  “Wait, wait! I’m sorry, please don’t go,” she said, blocking his way by stretching herself across the doorframe like a sheet of Saran Wrap.

  Gerald sleepily reached out and poked into her slightly transparent pink surface.

  “Stop it, that tickles,” she giggled.

  “How can you be ticklish, you don’t even have nerve endings?” Gerald grumbled as he bent down and searched. “Besides, I don’t see why you’d want to kill it. I like spiders.”

  Zurra stuck out her tongue. “Ugh, gag me with a tong!”

  “It’s ‘gag me with a spoon,’” he corrected. “But a nice attempt at an 80’s reference.”

  “Whatever. Why would you like spiders? They’re the worst thing ever.”

  Gerald shrugged. “I dunno, I’ve just always liked spiders. When I look at them, I feel at home.”

  There, behind the commode, he found the tiniest, most itty-bitty spider he had ever seen in his life.

  “Zuri, you woke me up in the middle of the night over this little speck of dust?”

  “Yes, because I need you to kill it!”

  Gerald examined closer. “Oh wait, this isn’t even a spider at all, it’s just a little bit of dust shaped like a spider.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, see,” he said, holding it up.

  “BAH! Get it away!” she yelled backing up.

  Gerald flicked the dust into the wastebin. “Amazing All-Powerful Super-Muscly Manly Man vanquishes yet another foe. Take that, evil Doctor Dust Mite.”

  As Gerald turned back, he saw a real tiny spider descending down from the ceiling above her.

  “Um, Zuri,” he cautioned. I need you to very carefully move two steps to the left without looking up.”

  “What? Why?” she asked as the spider landed on a pink pigtail.

  Zurra began shaking, her whole body jiggling like Jell-O as her eyes tracked up towards the source of the tickling sensation of tiny legs touching her skin.

  “GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” She squealed, releasing a lightning bolt that vaporized the spider, destroyed the commode, blasted the wall to pieces, shredded the hallway beyond, punched through the outside of the palace, and sailed off into the night sky, nearly clipping a passing cargo ship.

  * * *

  The scorpion-like creature silently stalked its prey in the early morning chill, crawling on the underside of the hanging rock face, its multiple black eyes reflecting its prey below. As big as a house, its fangs dripped with primal malice. There were two of them, one covered in gray fur, the other with bright red skin. They sat there defenseless, eyes closed as if asleep. The beast had smelled them from miles away and now flexed its hairy legs in anticipation.

  Quicker than the eye could follow, the monster pounced from above. It gave off no squeal or shout. It was completely silent, its fangs dribbling with venom as it fell upon the red one.

  Trahzi rolled to the side, avoiding the fangs by mere inches as the beast hit hard, jamming venomous barbs into the ground where she had been sitting only a second before.

  Reaching out, Trahzi snapped her fingers, and there was a flash of fire inside the creature, leaking out the seams of its hardened shell. Its body went limp and fell to the ground. Behind her, there was another flash of fire, and all of the beast’s internal organs appeared. For a moment they hung in the air, like a perfect biological specimen of the scorpion’s innards, the
n they collapsed into a steaming pile.

  Ilrica clapped approvingly. “Oh, nice one, Trahzi.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ilrica kicked herself to her feet and looked over the inert beast, her long tail flicking about approvingly. “Fangors release a toxin into their bodies at death making them lethal, even to a Bertulf. By porting out the brain and venom sacs, you leave the carcass free of any poison.”

  Ilrica scratched her chin. “It’s well done, but you still tore up the meat quite a bit. Let me show you how I would do it.”

  They looked up just in time to see a second Fangor leaping at them. Ilrica swiped her claws before her, and the creature came apart in the air, landing on the ground in prepared cuts of steak and ribs, carapace and discarded giblets.

  Trahzi blinked. “Interesting. You froze time and butchered the Fangor in midair?”

  “Yup,” Ilrica said, tearing open a pocket in the air and placing the cuts of meat inside. “Saves time this way.”

  “I am curious, will the meat keep in there?”

  “Huh? Oh, things exist in a kind of atheric stasis while they are in there. The meat won’t spoil, but if you leave it in for too long it does pick up a weird flavor. No one really knows why. That’s why the Bertulf keep supp’tal instead for long winters.”

  Trahzi accepted the answer and began carving up her Fangor with her extended claws. Ilrica looked over at her, a little grin crossing her lips. “This was fun Trahzi, thanks for coming along.”

  “I also found this excursion diverting. I was somewhat reluctant when Gerald suggested it.”

  “Yeah, I kind of wondered if he was trying to get rid of us for a few hours, but now I think he just wanted up to have some fun.”

  Trahzi stopped, her lips twisting a bit. “Yes, the rules of etiquette the others live under are... stifling at times. I do not feel like I can be myself back at the academy.”

  Ilrica’s ears perked up. “I know, right? Like, why make all those rules if they only serve as excuses to get offended? If you want to fight, just setup a circle of equals and fight it out, you know?”

  Trahzi nodded. “I see in most of their rules a similar origin. A bossy person attempting to control the behavior of others without actually possessing the strength to enforce it, so they couch it in terms of law or social expectation.”