And this confrontation was her own fault. In computer lab this morning, she had violated her most precious rule never to call attention to herself. Never be more than a shadow; blend into the background and endeavor not to be seen and thereby insure that you’re never noticed.
Because a shadow can’t be bullied.
The three boys were laughing as they ran toward her – each hand holding another snowball. Since one of the kids was a Tri’topiad, a three-armed humanoid with complete dexterity in each appendage, it meant she was about to be pummeled with seven scoops of frozen water.
Her mother told her that when confronted by bullies, the best course of action was to turn and walk away. But that never seemed to work for her – it only encouraged them more.
Her father had a different take. “Use unemotional language, P’yxx, to let the bully know that you do not intend to be victimized. Maintain eye contact and keep your voice calm and even. But, and this is important, stand an appropriate distance from him or her.” That was not happening; it simply wasn’t in her nature.
The gang of three stopped about fifteen paces away from the girl, big stupid grins splitting their faces. Oh’tezla counted down from five . . . but did it painfully slowly.
The girl’s heart was beginning to race as her adrenalin began to flood her bloodstream. She wanted to cry or to scream – why couldn’t they just leave her alone?
As the countdown reached one, something happened that had only happened once before. Her fear, still strong and palpable, grudgingly made way for another emotion . . . anger. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed as she concentrated on the snowballs heading toward her.
She tried not to flinch as the seven objects were about to make impact. She fervently wished they would just reverse course and smash into those three obnoxious boys and knock them on their butts.
To the shock and surprise of all four kids, the snowballs did just that. They flew past the girl’s face, and like a comet being flung around a star, they reversed course and returned to where they were launched.
With very loud thwacks, the frozen concoctions hit with a lot more force then they were thrown with. The boys, stupid grins replaced with looks of confusion, screamed as the snowballs found their marks. Only two actually fell down; the guy with three arms managed to stay upright.
The girl had no idea what had just happened but that didn’t stop her from giggling. The giggles turned to laughter as the three stumbled and fumbled and finally ran off – looking over their shoulders to make sure they weren’t being followed.
*****
Her name was P’yxx, the thirteen-year-old daughter of two renowned astrophysicists and a member of an elfin-like species called the Shazarette.
She lived with her parents at the incredibly prestigious Har’vonta Concordia of Science and Mathematics where they did their research on anomalous astronomical phenomena. As you might expect, extensive interstellar travel was a large part of the job. During their frequent and usually long absences, their daughter was quite capable of caring for herself.
The institute was located on Ooz’tari World, the seat of government for this sector of the galaxy. As such, it was home to representatives of virtually all the hundreds of species that were part of the sprawling Zatt Hegemony.
Unfortunately for P’yxx, there were no other Shazarette her age at the Concordia. When she attended her classes, she was alone. With her diminutive size and shy personality, she was an easy target for those who needed to harass others to validate their own self-importance.
She entered the house and took off her coat. Like any teenager back on Earth, she made her way to the kitchen, dropped her books and computer tablet on the table and went to the cupboard to look for a snack. For some reason, the whole episode with the snowballs made her unusually hungry.
“P’yxx, is that you?” asked a voice from her father’s study.
“No, Papa. I won’t be home for another hour,” she teased. She grabbed a handful of high-energy crackers and skipped to the other room.
The disheveled scientist, hair spiking every which way, looked up at his daughter and feigned surprised. “My word, you are a doppelganger of my dearest P’yxx. But I see it cannot possibly be her. My daughter never eats snacks.”
“Are you so poor that you can’t provide your offspring with needed sustenance?” The girl loved these silly exchanges with her parents – especially her father.
“Alas, I am but a humble scientist who studies incomprehensible quirks in the universe. The pay is not very good.” In point of fact, he and his wife were quite well off.
“Why not take up a real profession. Perhaps you can learn how to wash windows. Even at your advanced age, I’m almost certain you could excel at such labors.”
“Hmmm. That is very kind of you to say, but sadly I’m set in my ways. My daughter will just have to go on the streets and beg. No one will be able to resist her beautiful eyes and delightful smile. She should do quite well.”
P’yxx beamed at the compliment – one she had heard from her father many times. She danced over to the man and gave him a ferocious hug. Without letting go she said, “Surprise, it is me. I’m your daughter.”
He hugged her back – with just as much love. “How was your day?”
Instead of answering directly, she said, “Did you know that on Klax’on there is an old tale about Mountain Folk that could lift things with just their minds. They say that’s how their great stone pyramid was built.” That class - Paranormal Legends and Interspecies Folklore – was her favorite. So totally fascinated by the subject, she routinely forgot her innate shyness and raised her hand more often than anyone else.
“Is that what you learned today?” He knew his daughter well enough to know that she was purposefully changing the subject.
“Papa, it could be true, couldn’t it?”
As a scientist, it was against his nature to give a frivolous answer. “I haven’t given it much thought. What is your opinion?” It was also his favorite ploy to get his daughter to think for herself by asking her to answer her own question.
“I think it could be.”
“How did you reach that conclusion?”
She went silent as she considered how much to tell him. He waited quietly not wanting to disturb her train of thought. Her answer turned his blood to ice. “When I was coming home, three boys threw snowballs at me.”
“WHO?” he demanded, outraged that his precious daughter was once again being harassed. It made him angry beyond reason. “Who was it? Did you recognize them? Were you hurt? Where did the snowballs hit you? Do you need to lie down? Should I call a doctor?” He would have continued but he ran out of breath.
“Papa, it’s okay. The snowballs missed me.”
“Well, that’s good . . . but they should never have been thrown.” He was still indignant. “How many kids were involved?”
“Three.”
“And they missed? Maybe they weren’t trying to hit you – just showing off as boys like to do for pretty girls.”
That made P’yxx smile. No boy had ever shown any interest of that kind in her. “One was a Tri’topiad. So, if I dated him, that would be okay?” she teased.
Her father smiled. “I’m not sure you’re ready for a young man with three hands,” and he gave her an exaggerated wink.
“Oh, Papa. Shame on you.”
“Just saying.”
“Why are all boys like that?” At thirteen and only recently maturing from girl to young lady, she was still very innocent on certain subjects.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ask your mother that question?”
“I will . . . just to compare your answer to hers.”
“You are too clever by half,” he said proudly.
“Maybe, but only half as clever as you and Momma.”
“Nonsense.” He smiled then added, “With parents as brilliant as yours, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Just give it a few years.”
N
ot to be outdone, P’yxx asked, “I was adopted, wasn’t I?”
Her father laughed and his daughter joined him. When they regained their composure, he asked, “Now tell me how snowballs and telekinesis are related.”
“Is that the term for moving things with your mind?”
“It is.”
“Why do they have a name for something unless it’s real?”
The man smiled at that question. “Unfortunately, having a label doesn’t prove its existence. On the other hand, there are obviously people who believe the power is real. Most legends have some basis in fact. I’m still not understanding the connection between the snow . . .” but he stopped in midsentence. “Do you think that you caused the snowballs to miss you? With your mind?” The scientist in him was intrigued.
“Maybe.”
“Let’s start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened. Try not to leave out any details.”
“Well, I was walking home from school . . .” and she went on to describe the encounter with the bullies.
“You say the snowballs flew around your head then returned to their point of origin?”
“Yes.”
He covered his mouth with his hand as he gave the story some serious consideration. “What did you feel when they threw the snowballs?”
“I was afraid.”
“With good reason. Anything else?”
Pretending not to understand what he was asking because she was embarrassed to tell him she had gotten angry, she asked, “Like what?”
“Were you mad at them for picking on you? Angry that they wouldn’t leave you alone?”
“Why is that important?”
“Strong emotions could conceivably trigger something unusual in a person’s brain. This is especially true for us Shazarette since the only strong emotions we usually experience is love and loss . . . certainly not fear or anger.”
“That something . . . could it be telekinesis?”
“Possibly . . . perhaps. Have you ever had other um, incidences like this?”
She blushed. “Yes,” she whispered.
He waited but she said nothing. “Tell me about it,” he encouraged.
Scrunching her face as if relating the story was going to be painful – or embarrassing – she blurted “IthinkImadeaboyspantsfalldown.”
Her father grinned. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Running a finger through a strand of hair while looking down at her feet, P’yxx repeated slowly, “I think I made a boy’s pants fall down.”
“Oh,” was the response because it explained his daughter’s blush. “Can you tell me how that happened?”
She took a deep breath then exhaled loudly in resignation. “I was in computer lab this morning.”
“Okay.”
“My partner Oh’tezla, one of the three that chased me with snowball and who’s always kicking my chair – he reprogrammed our A.I. Cyber Runkin to embarrass me.” A Runkin was a monkey-like creature with weirdly long fingers and even longer tail. The real ones were harmless.
“What did he make it do?”
“To bite me on my rear. Papa, it wouldn’t stop. I ran around the lab screaming trying to knock it off and everyone laughed at me.”
“Where was your professor?”
“Pretending that she didn’t see what was going on.”
Exasperated, he asked, “Why would she do that?”
“She thinks he’s a genius when it comes to programming.” Grudgingly she added, “I guess he is.” In truth, he was only slightly better at it than P’yxx herself.
“Regardless, I will speak to her; you can count on that.” As you would expect, he was beyond angry.
“No, Papa, please don’t.”
“Why not?”
“It only makes it worse.”
“That’s unacceptable. I will not let this bullying continue.” He had already talked to the school’s headmaster but the man seemed uninterested in taking action. “We have so many species attending this institution that conflict is inevitable. Your daughter must learn to adapt,” was his pompous reply.
“It’s okay Papa. I can manage.” She gave him a defiant, albeit forlorn, stare.
The scientist took a moment to calm down. “We’ll discuss it later. For now, tell me what happened.”
“The professor asked Oh’tezla to come to the front and explain how he had reprogrammed the AI to do what it had done. Everyone turned around and snickered at me again. I was so mad. So, he stood, turns to me, and said, “Thanks, runt,” and walked to the front. I wanted to scream. I wanted to see him embarrassed as I had been. I wanted . . . I wanted to see his pants fall down and let everyone see his rear.”
The scientist didn’t smile – this was terribly serious. Quietly he said, “Finish your story.”
“That’s it. As soon as I thought it, his belt popped – he’s got a big belly – and his pants fell down to his ankles. It caused him to trip and fall. This time everyone laughed at him. Stupid me, I laughed the loudest. That really made him mad.”
The scientist went quiet as he digested his daughter’s words. Finally, he said, “Let’s try a little experiment. Put one of your crackers on the desk,” and she did. “Now, think about Oh’tezla and what he did to you. Close your eyes and relive that moment. When you feel as upset as you were then, think about the cracker and make it crumble. Will you try?”
“Okay,” and she closed her eyes and forced herself to relive the worst of times with Oh’tezla. After a minute . . . nothing. It just wasn’t in her nature to stay angry for long; once the emotion flared, it just as quickly died away. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be silly; there’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I might have written off the belt breaking as a coincidence. A boy with a large girth could easily cause his belt to pop. However, snowballs reversing course simply defy the laws of physics.” He went quiet as he tried to decide what course of action was appropriate. “As you know, your mother and I are leaving on a four-week research trip in a few days (they were planning to study the astronomical enigma called a Dystonian Vortex, an eddy of subspace lattices whose properties they hoped to uncover). “When we get back, I will work with some of my colleagues to see if we can prove your telekinetic ability. In the meantime, do not mention it to any of your friends.”
“Papa, I have no friends.”
The man grunted with emotional pain. “I know. I just don’t know why.”
“They’re afraid.”
“Of what?”
“They’re afraid if they become my friends, they’ll get bullied too.”
“P’yxx, this has to stop. I can’t sit by and let this happen to you.”
“You’ve tried before and . . .” she chose not to finish because she didn’t want her father to think he had failed her.
“There is a solution.”
“If you send me there, I won’t be able to see you but once a year.” She was referring a very exclusive, very private, very expensive school. It was located literally a trillion miles away . . . which in reality isn’t that far when you’re talking about intra-galactic distances.
However, it was even closer in terms of transit time. This quadrant of the Andromeda Galaxy was interconnected with their version of the space tunnels created on Aerianna. The technology was completely different, and unimportant, but the results were the same . . . instantaneous transfer between any two connected points.
And everything was connected through Displacement Gates which came in every shape and size . . .
Some were very small and used within buildings or homes. Others were incredibly large to allow the biggest space transports to pass through. The technology was ancient and even the history books could not identify any one person or civilization to credit.
So P’yxx could go to the exclusive school and in theory return everyday as she did now. But they had strict rules with zero tolerance – and if a student vio
lated them, they were expelled. Except for a one-month yearly recess, every attendee was required to stay ‘on campus’. It was a stupid regulation but one based on some long-forgotten tradition which no one chose to change.
Her father would be just as devastated as she was if they could see each other so infrequently. But giving his daughter a ‘normal’ social life might be worth the sacrifice. “Perhaps you could try it for a year. It might not be so bad,” he lied unconvincingly.
“I’ll think about it, Papa. I promise,” she lied in return.
“Very well. One more thing . . . and please don’t take this the wrong way. If you do have telekinetic ability, you obviously haven’t mastered it yet since it only seems to manifest itself in times of high distress. You must be very careful not to inflict real harm on someone. Snowballs and falling pants are proportionate responses. Physical harm would hurt you more than it would your victim.”
“Aren’t I the victim?”
“Of course, you are. My phrasing was very poor.”
Before he could restate it, P’yxx cut him off. “I know what you’re saying. I just don’t know how I can prevent it. An idea just pops into my head and it happens.”
“I understand. Maybe I have a solution,” and he turned around and rummaged through his desk draws until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here it is.” He turned around and handed a golf-ball size spheroid to his daughter.
“What is it?”
“Squeeze it.”
She did and smiled. It gave off a sound much like whale song. “What is it?”
“Squeeze it harder.”
She did and the sound grew louder. “What is that noise? It’s not from an instrument, is it?”
“No. It’s actually the sound that a Rubato makes when looking for a mate. They live in the deepest parts of the oceans on Calista Alpha and are fearsome to look at. But, I’m told that they are quite gentle. Soothing, isn’t it?”
She smiled again as she squeezed the device. “Yes.”
“Think that might help?”
She threw her arms around her father. “I take it back. Don’t become a window washer.”
P'yxx - Syl'kie and Ellie Rose's 1st adventure Page 4
