Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  Chapter Seven

  Want to control a people? Teach them to think of themselves as victims. Tell them they have an enemy, and that enemy is responsible for all their woes. It doesn’t have to be a real enemy; it doesn’t even have to make sense. Just tell it to them often enough, and they will come to believe it. Once they do, you can rob them of their money, time, and freedom, so long as you keep their eyes fixed on the ‘enemy’ you have created for them.

  -Attributed to Hellibore Cadavat following the Ico scourging, Y17.02-K3581pp

  “Hey, did you hear about Xigleb from class 4-A?” Tulda asked, smacking her gum as she leaned back in her desk.

  “Nu-uh, what happened?” Kamanie asked, eager to hear the latest gossip.

  “Apparently, her cousin back home forgot to keep her barrier up when she went online, and she got brain-hacked.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, they found her last night dressed up in a maid costume, cleaning up for some guy in the capital.”

  “Oh, that’s awful. Can they restore her mind from backup?”

  “I hope so. The guy altered her personality, so now she thinks being his maid is like the best thing ever. She keeps trying to run away from the hospital and get back to him.”

  “Scary.”

  Tulda looked down, her face pinched as Gerald walked by to take his seat. “Ah, grogs, my skirt ripped. Why is everything falling apart lately?”

  “Ah, my button just popped off,” Kamanie added.

  Ms. Stubbs forced her way past the boxes of files, knocking one over. Stacked nearly to the ceiling, the front of the classroom had become a forest of files.

  “G... good morning class,” she stammered, a strand of black hair popping loose and sticking up. “Since it seems someone in our class cannot link to Central, I have been asked to... accommodate that student in the following way. We... we’ll be doing the rest of the case studies by hand.”

  The entire class turned to glare at Gerald.

  A window appeared over one student, flashing “transfer requested,” then another, then another, until one appeared over nearly everyone in the room.

  “Come now, class, you can’t all be transferred,” Ms. Stubbs said, a second strand of hair popping out of place. “Then I wouldn’t have a class to teach and I’d lose my salary.”

  Ilrica leaned back and linked her fingers behind her head. “You gotta admit, the boy has a real talent for getting under people’s skin. I’ve been trying for months and I’ve never seen this group so mad.”

  “Yes, even we have noticed it,” Trahzi said, opening her black eyes. “There is just something about him that makes us... angry.”

  Ms. Stubbs tried to smooth out her hair. “My goodness, Trahzi, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you speak in class. It’s kind of scary.”

  Trahzi turned towards Gerald, steam rising off her red skin. “If we refuse to cull the weak, the strength of the entire herd is reduced.”

  Gerald stood up. “Look, I know how hard all of you fought to get here.” Slowly, he worked his way to the front of the room. “I don’t want to hold anyone back. That’s not fair to any of you. You guys just go ahead and use the link and I’ll study the material on my own.”

  Gerald reached out a plucked a file from a stack. “I’ll just start with this one, shall I?”

  Gerald opened the file and stared at the incomprehensible scrawlings.

  “Let me guess,” Stubbs moaned. “You can’t read standard, can you?”

  “Not a word.”

  A third lock of her hair popped loose.

  “Do they even make automated written translation programs anymore?” Aryc asked.

  “They do, but they all require a link to Central.”

  “It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll pick it up soon enough,” Gerald offered as he scanned over the markings. “Oh, this one looks like a little house.”

  Cha’Rolette stood up and placed her hands on her hips. That’s not good enough. Your test results will bring down the class average. Your mere presence hurts us all.

  She glanced over at Tomar, expecting agreement, but he was lost in thought.

  The stack of files next to Gerald collapsed to the ground. “I am open to suggestions,” he offered.

  Her eyes narrowed. It’s simple. You need to leave.

  “I can’t do that.”

  Why?

  Gerald paused. “I have my reasons.”

  Cha’Rolette uncurled her hair and it floated up around her. Gerald felt a pressure building up behind his eyes, then watched as his own memories flashed up, unbidden in his mind. His route back home in the avenues. Mister Botts, Mrs. Rasmussen, even Mr. Conners. His new route here on Central came up, but when the memories reached the orphanage he frequented everything stopped. Cha’Rolette stepped back, looking a little stunned.

  “Did... did you just read my mind?” Gerald asked, placing his hand over his brow.

  Cha’Rolette placed her hand over her heart and regained her composure.

  Very well, she said. You may have your reasons, but so do I. The reputation of the Ssykes family must be upheld at all costs. When you threaten it, you make yourself my enemy, therefore I have no choice but to challenge you to... Ignatitus Kei.

  Several of the students gasped.

  Gerald flicked his translator and then glanced over at Ms. Stubbs for an explanation.

  “An honor duel,” she clarified.

  “Oh. Well in that case, no thanks, Duchess.”

  A wave of hushed surprise spread throughout the room.

  Cha’Rolette blinked. Y-you what?

  “I decline.”

  You can’t decline.

  “I believe I just did.”

  “No one in the history of this academy has ever refused Ignatitus,” Stubbs recalled in horror. “That one of my students would be the first... oh my...”

  Gerald held up his hands. “Look, a duel with you would accomplish nothing...”

  Ha! So now you boast about...

  “...I’d lose.”

  Oh.

  “In fact I’d lose horribly. Your people are telepathic and telekinetic. You are faster, stronger, and smarter than I could ever be. The result is a forgone conclusion, so what would a duel possibly accomplish?”

  Cha’Rolette opened her mouth in offense. How can you be this way? Don’t you have any pride?

  “I suppose I don’t.”

  “You have to duel her,” Tulda called out, her hair clip breaking off and falling to the floor.

  “Yeah,” Kamanie agreed. Several of the other students chimed in likewise.

  “Look, even I agree with the green princess over there,” Ilrica added, her tail swishing about in irritation.

  Duchess, not princess, Cha’Rolette clarified, her eyebrow twitching.

  Ilrica waved her hand. “Nuance. Anyway, Gerald, you need to stand up and be a man about this and accept the duel.”

  “I am being a man. A man doesn’t do things simply because he is told to.”

  Ilrica clucked her tongue, as if she had never considered that before.

  By this point Cha’Rolette was so angry she looked like she was about ready to pop. Her face was flushed red, and her head tentacles were writhing about in all directions. She kinda reminded Gerald of Medusa from Clash of the Titans.

  You foul little troglodyte! Are you a coward? If you decline, you will bring shame upon your whole family, upon your whole race! Everyone at the school will know that you are without honor!

  Gerald shrugged and began walking back towards his desk. “Everyone here already hates me. Why should I fear more of the same?”

  Cha’Rolette slammed her fist on the wall, splintering the marble. Didn’t you hear what I said? I called you a coward!

  “I believe the whole planet heard you.”

  Ilrica covered her mouth, suppressing a chuckle.

  An evil grin crossed Cha’Rolette’s lips. This is why your people are dying out, isn’t it? Becaus
e they just laid down and gave up! The phrase seemed to echo inside everyone’s brain.

  Gerald stopped in his tracks. As he turned around, everyone was expecting to see outrage on his face, but instead he looked sad. “You are right, my people did give up. In all likelihood this will probably be the last generation of humans to exist in the universe.”

  His eyes came back up. “However, I still won’t duel with you.”

  Cha’Rolette stomped her feet like a petulant child. You can’t turn down an honor duel! It’s against the rules!

  Gerald sat back down. “Those are your rules, not mine.”

  In desperation, Cha’Rolette turned to Tomar, obviously expecting him to chime in on her side. Tomar looked down, his orange eyes searching for an answer. Then he seemed to resolve something within himself and looked back up at her fearlessly.

  “I really don’t see why you are so upset, Duchess. You tried to manipulate Gerald into accepting the duel and it didn’t work.”

  Cha’Rolette nearly lost her footing. How dare you?

  All the students looked around, not knowing what to say.

  “I can’t believe it,” Tulda said.

  “No one has ever stood up to the Duchess before,” Kamanie whispered.

  Tomar turned to Gerald. “What they aren’t telling you, Dyson, is that the loser of Ignatitus has to leave the Academy.”

  Suddenly there was a flicker and a spark. Just like that, all the lights went off, bathing the whole room in darkness save for the glow coming off from Cha’Rolette’s tentacles.

  “What’s going on?” Ms. Stubbs asked, looking around in panic.

  “Whooo. You know that ain’t good,” Ilrica whistled.

  * * *

  With a grunt and a screech of metal, Director Nathers managed to slide open the door on his own. The room beyond was an absolute wreck. Piles of cables, crystals, and portable generators were stacked up to chin height. Portable computers were linked and bypassed and sewn together in a Frankensteinian mess. Everything was covered by what appeared to be a freshly fallen layer of junk food wrappers. The only light came from a trio of floating windows in the corner.

  Nathers covered his mouth to stifle the smell. “Are you dead in here?” he called out.

  “Not yet, director,” Engineer Valans croaked, his amphibian-like skin pulsating as he breathed through it. “Though not for lack of trying.”

  “You’d better have a good explanation for all this,” Nathers said, weaving his way between the stacks. “I can’t link to Central and the whole blasted school is in the dark.”

  The Chief Engineer thoughtfully chewed on the stick in his mouth. Dozens of cables sprouted out from the crystronic plugs in his head into the surrounding piles of hardware. “The explanation is that everything is down. All of it.”

  “Yes, I can see that, you stupid fly-eater. All the teachers are trapped in their classrooms; we can’t even get the doors open. Even the backups have failed.”

  The windows before them flashed and sped and scrolled with terrifying speed, their light reflecting off of Valan’s large wet eyes. Slowly, the engineer opened his mouth and pulled on the stick, revealing a large pink candy drop at the end of it. “We’ve been hit by a virus, nastier than anything I’ve ever seen before.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Valans shook his head and licked the candy with his long tongue. “It’s been spreading for the last few days. It chewed its way through three layers of military-grade attack barriers in under an hour. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve been breaking off sections to use as decoys, but the frakkin’ thing just leaped across them. I even cut the hard-lines at one point, and the thing caused a crystal hub to vibrate across from a microphone that had been left on at a terminal. It actually jumped across the broken hard-line by transmitting itself that way. I couldn’t believe it. Whoever coded this thing must have been a savant or something. I hit it with fifteen different kinds of countermeasures and it permutated itself through each cleansing. One system after another cascaded. Finally, I had no choice but to wipe the entire network before it could get outside the Academy.”

  “Wipe, you mean...”

  Valans nodded. “I killed the virus, but we lost everything, every system, every record. I’m working to restore from the backups, but some of them were infected and I have to check each one individually as I go. Heck, as far as I know the virus could have hard-written itself into some of the crystals, so it may manifest again as we come back on line. We may have to rebuild everything with fresh components.”

  “This is a disaster,” Director Nathers groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do we know who hit us?”

  “No way to tell right now. Everything is a total crapstorm.”

  “Can you get me an outside line? I’ll need to call in city security to bust the kids out of their classrooms.”

  Valans croaked. “That’ll take time. I need to start with the core-systems first. Right now we have no control over the Academy’s reactor or ventilation systems.”

  “I see your point,” Nathers said tapping his fingers against his chest. “I’ll grab whoever I can and we’ll start breaking doors down. I want regular updates from you in the meantime.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Nathers turned to leave, but then noticed rows upon rows of white cloth tubes nailed to the walls. “Are those... socks?” he asked.

  Valens nodded. “I collect them.”

  Taking in another whiff of his pungent surroundings, Nathers covered his mouth and nose. “Are they... used?”

  Valens turned around. “Of course, they’d lose their value if I wash them.”

  Chapter Eight

  Traditionally, when a planet joins the Alliance, a tithe of military service is required of each of that planet’s new adults for the first hundred cycles, normally lasting for five cycles for each individual. This has the first effect of giving the new race a chance to “earn their place at the table” by demonstrating their willingness to put their lives on the line. The second, and far more reaching effect, is to help the new race acclimate and normalize into Alliance culture. Humans, however, were the first race declared to be unfit for duty, due to the fact that they were not strong enough to even lift, let alone fire, the standard Mark-32 TMB Pulse Rifle. Footage of a human bodybuilder unable to heft a Mark-17 pistol off the ground alongside a flaxxian toddler plucking one up and walking around with it in his mouth is a net favorite to this day.

  -A Tourists Guide to Earth, 2nd edition, page 175, Valium Press

  The following morning, the great hall looked very different then it normally did. The halo lights above hung dark. The little cleaning robots were strewn about the floor, motionless. The only light came in from the open windows. With the scrubbers down, the air had particulates in it for the first time in the school’s history. Not enough to be gross, although the spoiling food from the kitchens was becoming noticeable, but enough that the sunlight became columns of light glowing in the dust, slanting across the hall like great spears.

  The students were behaving differently as well. Unable to link with Central for the first time in years, they faced the horror of boredom. Some walked around aimlessly, tugging at their hair. Others lay down and napped on the benches, attempting to wait out the time in unconsciousness.

  Tomar seemed to handle the situation better than most. Sitting on a bench beneath a purple tree, he voraciously tore into a book about art history, a subject he had always been passionate about but had been unable to study until now.

  Cleylselle sat near him with an easel and canvas, trying his hand at painting for the first time ever with some supplies he had managed to find.

  In fact, nearly all the boys were gathered on one side of the hall, a group of them huddled around Gerald, asking him questions and learning about the teachings of Soeck.

  Up on the balcony, Trahzi stood by herself, watching Gerald with a strange look on her face.

  The rest of the girls were g
athered on the other side of the hall, most of them scowling at the boys for ignoring them. None of the girls scowled as hard as Cha’Rolette, who sat with her minions, grinding her teeth as she watched the boys listening to the monk.

  “Hey, did you hear about that Drazerian actress?” Kamanie inquired as she applied her lipstick.

  “Oh yeah, the one that links without a barrier?” Tulda said, checking her eye shadow. “She’s crazy.”

  “I know, for a fee you can log on to her home site and take complete control of her body, make her do or say anything.”

  “Does she need the money that much?”

  “I don’t think so. I think she likes being controlled by strangers.”

  “That’s a kink I could never get into. Like... ever.”

  Cha’Rolette ignored them. The only sound she made was the faint grinding of her teeth.

  “You know, something is different today,” Tulda observed as she twirled her hair and looked around vapidly.

  “Of course it is different,” Kamanie rebutted. “Everything is broken. I can’t even watch my net shows.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Tulda droned on. “It’s something else.”

  “You’ve probably just got gas from the ration packets they gave us.” She shivered. “Sooo nasty. I didn’t come all the way out here to Central just to eat like a homeless person.”

  “No, it’s not gas...” she trailed off. “...at least I don’t think so.” Tulda banged her fist against her sternum a couple of times, trying to see if she could tease out a burp.

  “You’re so gross. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Kamanie sat up straight as if she had just been goosed. “I know what it is,” she blurted out. “The Duchess hasn’t gotten a single courtship gift today.”

  Tulda looked around. “You know, you’re right. That’s really weird. Where did all her boys go?”

  They’re all over there listening to the human, Cha’Rolette’s voice rang out venomously as she looked on. That Dyson kid has to be stopped.

  Kamanie looked up at Cha’Rolette with a concerned expression. “Are you gonna have him killed?”