by KT Belt
Today it was free weights, her least favorite. The feeling of the weight resisting the movement was especially wretched for a Clairvoyant, and the reactions of those around her were typically bothersome. It was the expectation. They looked at her like they expected her to lift the entire rack of weights with no more than her pinky finger. She could if she wanted to, telekinetically, but what would be the point? Very few seemed to acknowledge that, physically, she was nothing more than a young woman who happened to be in excellent, though not extraordinary, condition.
The gym patrons seemed more agitated than normal. Why now as opposed to any other time was anyone’s guess. The lot of them gathered in a corner of the room, but she didn’t know why. She could feel their tension; she could always feel their tension. Today, though, it could no longer be tucked away in the back of her mind and ignored. It was like a bad case of indigestion.
She retrieved a new weight and began her next routine happy that she’d be going to work soon. All the while, the group in the corner of the room grew larger and larger. Some were people she had never seen before. She could only assume they came on days she did not. The gym owner, staff, and trainers were gathered as well. When she glanced at them, they all shuddered as if hit by a cold wind. Everyone stood frozen. Then, all at once, the mass started walking toward her.
Carmen placed the weight down and stood. At first, this was a curiosity, but now she wasn’t sure what to make of it. No words were spoken by either side. The wall of flesh approached, seeming to tower over her. At about average height, she wasn’t a short woman, but she felt decidedly small in this instant all the same. She took a step back, and they continued their advance. She took another step and then another, yet the crushing mass came closer still. Eventually, her hand brushed the back wall. Her gaze darted left and right, searching for some way to escape, but she was surrounded. The attack came just as she opened her mouth to speak.
“We don’t want you here!” half of them bellowed.
“Get lost!” the other half screamed.
“I…I…” Carmen stammered. She knew she wasn’t particularly appreciated here, but she never expected this.
“Yeah, go! We don’t want to be around you monsters!”
“I’m not a—”
Someone smacked her then, making her hair, only partially restrained by her ponytail, fall across her face. She didn’t see who did it, but it was obvious. The man fell to one knee and held his hand.
“She shocked me! The fucking bitch shocked me!” he said.
Everyone took half a step away from her and fell silent. Carmen ignored them and looked through her hair at the man. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had hit her. He looked back at her with a seething terror that, to her, wafted off him like steam. But she made no action. She hadn’t intentionally shocked him; it was only a byproduct of the bioelectric field that every Clairvoyant possessed. Her gaze went from him to the rest of the crowd. They reflected his fear but to a lesser degree. Her eyes fell.
“Excuse me,” she said softly.
As she walked forward, the group was nice enough to clear a path for her. Then they followed a reasonable distance behind. She didn’t turn to look but could sense them—hear them, even, as their shuffling steps reverberated off the hard floor like rhythmless drums. Her movements, even now, were graceful and almost otherworldly yet purposeful.
Her first stop was the showers. The mob waited just outside. Carmen tried not to think about them. She would have left immediately if she could. Frankly, she had taken relatively few showers in her life. She usually didn’t need to, as it was far more convenient to just cleanse the day’s dirt and grime telekinetically. But she couldn’t be directly affected by her own energy, and her sweat was as much a part of her as her arm or leg.
The crowd was still waiting for her when she got out. They made a path that led directly to one place and one place only: her locker. She went to it and began emptying it out. The group watched like a flock of vultures over a wounded animal. No one said anything. The scene was too surreal for any words to come to mind. Carmen didn’t even wish to ask for a refund of her membership dues. She simply made for the exit with her meager belongings, sans pause or even a look back. She let out a soft sigh when the door was safely shut behind her. Clapping and cheering could be heard from inside the gym. She tried her best to ignore it.
“Is that five or six?” she wondered out loud.
She couldn’t really remember, if it even mattered. But this was certainly one of the softer ways she’d been kicked out of a gym. She shook her head as she thought of some of the more ridiculous instances and pulled out her PDD.
There was just enough time for her to make an early bus to work if she flew. She could have flown all the way to work, but, hard as it was to explain to normal people, that was too tiring a mode of transportation to use regularly. She wished she could afford an aerocar, but it seemed that even the luxury of a steady gym was beyond her. Thus, she lowered her shoulder and flew off without a second thought. The bus was only a few blocks away.
Clairvoyants were never known to fly very high if they didn’t have to, and she flew only a little above the heads of the people on the street. An outstretched hand would have just been able to touch her. In her time, though, no one had ever tried.
The bus was in sight in seconds. It didn’t take much for her to telekinetically hold the door open long enough to step inside. Payment only took a quick swipe of her credit card. She smiled at the bus driver.
“Hello,” she said. The bus driver said nothing back, which was typical. Carmen paid it no mind.
She turned, and the bus fell silent. Actually, she didn’t think a sound had been uttered since she stepped onboard. The morning bus, as usual, was packed full. Yet, wherever her eyes fell, the area cleared like a tornado touching down in a wheat field. A solitary step forward was all it took to evacuate the entire forward section. She took the first available seat next to an older man who didn’t seem to care about or even know of his new company. She’d seen him before, and she smiled, even though they never actually spoke to one another. She had tried once and got a disturbed mess back—something about the war or some such thing. Either way, it had been enough to caution her from reading him.
His weren’t the only thoughts she tried to keep out, either. There were a few regulars on the bus that paid her no serious mind, but their soft song was set against an opera of people who were as wary of her as they would be a smoking volcano. She dropped her eyes to the ground and tried not to look intimating. That sometimes helped.
Her stop eventually came, and she went. She even heard the bus driver breathe a sigh of relief when she stepped out. Not that Carmen could blame her. After all, she had been sitting near the entrance, and riders were usually reluctant to enter when they noticed her. Anyway, it was only a brisk but brief walk from this point to get to her job. She was a little early, but she had no place else to be.
After walking inside, she sighed yet again. This would be a busy morning; the crowd was wall to wall. The news was on the holo, another report about that admiral assassinated on Earth. She ignored it completely. She had little interest in the war. It was all so far away, and New Earth was one of the most secure Great Colonies in the UTE. Furthermore, Clairvoyants weren’t subject to the draft. Little could be done to make them serve, especially on a mass scale. But she also guessed that not being subject to the draft was a small kickback for being locked in a facility and literally tortured until she was eighteen.
She moved into the crowd with a slight smile on her lips despite herself. Times like this were refreshing. Everyone was too busy to notice the Clairvoyant in their midst.
“Excuse me,” she said politely as she moved a woman aside. “Pardon me,” she muttered to a man as she slipped by him.
And like that it was broken. A different man noticed the precise grace of her movements, her piercing gaze, and the unsettling feeling in his stomach that was not hunger, and he m
oved out of her way. He bumped into another person who spat a curse in anger, but the offence was forgotten as soon as she noticed Carmen. The rest of the crowd realized their predicament and fell away from the Clairvoyant like dominoes. As a reflex, Carmen’s mouth poised to utter an apology before she thought better of it. Instead she calmly walked behind the counter, head held low.
“Hi,” she said out loud to none of her coworkers in particular. There were a few equally halfhearted greetings in return, but mostly they were too busy to respond.
She’d been in this situation before and knew what to do. She tossed her bag onto an unused table and telekinetically retrieved her uniform. It was already on by the time she walked back to the counter. Her coworkers moved into position and got ready. She gave them a couple of seconds just in case. They always said it was hard for them to keep up.
The first customer to step up was a young teenager of maybe thirteen years old. The girl approached boldly. It was hard to tell if she didn’t notice the Clairvoyant of if she just didn’t care. Carmen raised an eyebrow at the atypical girl. She was rare in more than one way too, since she was of Asian descent. There weren’t many of that heritage on New Earth. Kali was the only one Carmen personally knew.
“May I take your order?” she asked.
The question was a pointless formality, but she had somehow gotten into the habit of asking it for the first customer of the day. The girl opened her mouth to answer. Carmen took over from there.
“A number one and a number three, extra-large,” Carmen said. It was momentary, but the girl’s eyes narrowed in obvious confusion. Carmen responded before she could open her mouth. “Hold the sides,” she added.
The girl blinked a few times. “Right…” she muttered. “Cool,” she said, her lips forming a pleased smile.
Carmen smiled too. “That’s 8.75.”
“Yeah, okay.”
The girl paid, and Carmen attended to the next person in line. It was a Space Force enlisted man. His uniform indicated that he was in the Fleet Command branch. As with the girl, he approached boldly. Carmen expected as much, as most Space Force personnel she met were well used to Clairvoyants and weren’t unduly afraid of them. Space Force was always eager for Clairvoyant recruits, especially with the war. She received at least one piece of mail from them each day.
He looked at the now awestruck girl and then turned to Carmen and smiled. “Guess I don’t have to tell you what I want,” he said, chuckling lightly.
She couldn’t help a self-satisfied smirk. “A number four with everything. On the house.” Active-duty soldiers weren’t charged.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” she said back.
The next pair was a married couple. Carmen took a deep breath and let her finger tap the counter.
“What should I have, Bob?”
“I don’t know, Mortina. Pick one,” Bob replied.
Carmen stood by and waited…and waited…and waited some more. It was always rather hard to know when to interject, even for her.
“But I always have the same thing. I want to try something different,” Mortina said.
“Umm,” Carmen tried to say, but they ignored her.
“Why don’t you try this one?” Bob said, pointing.
“But I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Umm, excuse me,” Carmen tried again.
“Hold on, we’re almost ready,” Bob said without even looking at her. Mortina didn’t pay her any mind either.
“Excuse me,” Carmen said with a bit more force.
“What?” they both asked simultaneously, so annoyed that even a comatose dog would be able to tell.
She was unfazed. “Salad,” she said simply.
There was a long pause. “I guess I’ll have that,” Mortina said. Her voice was a pathetic whine.
Carmen rolled her eyes as they paid. Sorry. I guess I should have just read your mind and known what you wanted, she thought sarcastically. They looked at her hesitantly over their shoulders as they walked away. Carmen ignored them. She instead fixed her attention on the next person in line, a woman with a small child. Her arm was wrapped around her son while she tried her best to shield him behind her leg. She didn’t even step up to the counter. Carmen took a second to consider the ridiculousness.
“Can someone else help me?” the woman asked.
“A number two and a number one off the kids’ menu,” Carmen said with a sigh. There was no point in even dignifying the question.
The woman hesitated, and Carmen realized what the problem was. She had no way of paying without getting closer. The Clairvoyant sighed again before she telekinetically lifted the woman’s credit card from out of her purse. The woman gave what could best be called a mouse squeak at that. Even Carmen would admit she was stepping over the bounds of acceptable behavior, but her line was getting too long for anything else. She replaced the card and looked the woman in the eye.
I could snap your neck with a thought, but... “I don’t bite,” Carmen said simply. She doubted the woman believed her.
The next person in line was no better. He stared at the Clairvoyant and swallowed hard. Carmen looked at him then glanced at the rest of the line and noted the same. Her little display, while expedient, wasn’t very wise. By this point, though, the cat was out of the bag, running across the room, and climbing up a tree. No way was it coming back.
“Why play around anymore?” she said to herself.
She turned to her computer and rung up the next five people in sequence. Shortly after, five credit cards zoomed through the air and into her hand. A few people screamed, but Carmen paid no mind to the hysterics. She wasn’t stealing anything. Their cards were flying back to them in only a few seconds. Nevertheless, two people left the line and then the building at a fast walk. The next group in line stood still, too confused and nervous to know what to do. Their state made them a little harder than usual to read, but only a little bit. In due time, another convoy of cards were flying toward her.
“She’s never done this before,” she thought she heard one of her coworkers mutter to another.
That was true, but it worked. It took less than ten minutes to clear the entire line. Carmen eventually folded her arms and smiled. All done, she thought. There’d be some ruffled feathers, but whatever. She turned around and saw everyone scrambling to fill the backlog of orders. She turned again at no conscious prompting. Someone was coming to place an order. Carmen smiled.
Hours later, she took a deep breath. It had been the epitome of a busy day. She went to retrieve her bag with a weary sigh. Someone reached out an arm to place a hand on her shoulder only to stop short. Carmen turned anyway.
“Carmen…” It was the manager.
“Yes?” she asked.
He hesitated before he spoke. She didn’t even have to read him for her spirits to fall. “What was that? Why’d you pull people’s cards without even asking them?” There was no heat behind his words—he was too nervous for that—but it seemed like he wanted to yell if he could.
“Everyone was afraid of me. It would have taken too much time to just ask,” she said. I already know what they want anyway, she thought with a bit of frustration.
“I would’ve preferred if you had taken your time. Half of them said they’re never coming back after what you did. Almost all of them complained. Some are even saying they’re going to write letters to corporate.” He paused. “You do a good job. Damn good. Please, please don’t be angry. I have kids. But…I’m going to have to let you go.”
Carmen took a deep breath. I have kids? she wondered while clenching her jaw. She was a Clairvoyant, not an ogre.
“I’m not angry,” she said simply. She thought about saying something on her behalf but decided against it. “Anything else?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
He said something, but she had already moved off. There was no reason to stay and listen. She found herself outside and in the flower shop next to her for
mer employer almost as if she were on autopilot.
“Eight…I think,” she muttered.
But who was she kidding? She’d long since lost count of how many jobs she’d lost. Maybe if she considered only the times that were strictly her fault, like today, she could keep the number to one hand. She groaned, regretting her stupid decision with the credit cards, and tried not to think about it. The flower shopkeeper walked toward her.
He smiled. “Hey, Carmen. The usual?”
As usual, it had taken a few minutes for him to get to her. The store had been doing record business since the start of the war. Most of the supply went to cemeteries and funerals.
“Yeah, sure,” she replied. She then considered the contents of her bank account and the fact that it wasn’t going to be filled by much of anything in the near future. “Just give me half,” she added.
Flowers in hand, she set off for her next destination. It was always her favorite and her most dreaded. Another bus ride was involved. It was longer than before, but since she’d be looking for new work and a new gym, the regulars on this line would be spared the company of the Clairvoyant after today. She once again sat alone. The void around her was more apparent this time, since the bus was only half filled to begin with. At least she was able to give the flowers their own seat.
What am I going to do? she thought over and over again. She needed money, and it had been hard enough to get that job, meager though it may have been. She, like all Clairvoyants, had one best skill—a very lucrative one at that—but she promised herself that she’d never go into that market. Her stop came, though no answers came with it. The only thing she could think to do in the meantime was to try her best to sound hopeful, for what it was worth.