Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  Cha’Rolette leaned up against the counter next to him, looking discomfited. Oh, my shoulders are killing me, she complained, showing off her delectable neckline as she brushed her hair out of the way. Do you know anyone who can help me?

  Her ringlets glowed brightly, and he felt his mind pressed in from all sides.

  Gerald glanced over at her. “I can help.”

  Really?

  “Sure thing.”

  As Gerald sat her down in a chair, and setup a chair behind her, a look of triumph came across her face.

  When he set his hands down on her shoulders, she wriggled with delight.

  Oh, wow, you do have strong hands, she praised as he dug his thumbs into her tense muscles.

  Then she felt cool air hit her neck as he undid the clasp at the back of her collar.

  Well, look at you, being all aggressive and... kyaaa!

  She yelped when he grabbed the zipper and pulled it down to her waist. She crossed her hands in front of her to prevent her top from falling off and exposing everything.

  Okay, Gerald, I like your enthusiasm, but I think this is going a little bit too farrrraaaaahhhh!

  She gave off a squeal as she felt a needle prick the flesh in between her shoulder blades.

  What in the world are you doing? She demanded, spinning around. Her ringlets glowed brightly and a hundred kitchen knives came to life and zipped into the air, pointed straight at him from every direction.

  “It’s called acupuncture,” he explained, holding up the small thin needle. “I just cleared your third chakra, that’s where all the tension was.”

  As she sat there in stunned silence, he zipped her back up, reclasped her collar, and returned the needle to his little essentials kit.

  “Let me know if there is anything else I can help with.”

  As he slipped away, the knives all came clattering down. Tulda and Kamanie snuck up alongside her.

  “What did he do to you?”

  I don’t know, Cha’Rolette said, rotating her arms. But my shoulders haven’t felt this good in months.

  “Maybe he can do that for me too,” Kamanie wondered aloud.

  An invisible hand bonked her on the top of the head.

  “Owie!”

  * * *

  Gerald grunted as he lifted the crate of ice from the top of the dispenser and carried it down to the bottom of the stepladder. No one had ever tried placing a layer of ice in the preservation units, but when he suggested it, the kitchen staff agreed that it was worth a try to keep at least some of the produce from spoiling. There he found Cha’Rolette sitting on the bottom two steps, blocking his route. She had one foot wedged up against the saucier station, revealing a long toned leg from beneath her skirt.

  Ugh, with the climate controls broken, it is getting way too hot in here, don’t you think? She tugged hard on the collar of her uniform to fan herself, giving him the perfect opportunity to peek down at her bountiful cleavage. This time her hair glowed so brightly that he nearly had to shield his eyes. It was like a jackhammer pounding into his brain. Every memory was swapped with images of her beauty, every desire replaced with a need to touch her. Every thought was substituted with an idea of how to please her.

  But he refused to act on it.

  “Here ya go,” Gerald offered without looking, holding out a little bag of ice for her. “This should help you cool off.”

  Thanks, she grumbled, taking the bag.

  Gerald slipped past her and continued on. Two of the pots at the rotisseur station rattled, then Tulda and Kamanie poked their heads up from underneath, wearing the pots like helmets.

  They both shook their heads sadly. “That has got to be a huge blow to her womanly pride.”

  Cha’Rolette threw the bag on the floor.

  * * *

  Gerald held up a makeshift candle, straining in the dim light to find the right title amid the rows of dusty books.

  There you are, Gerald. I’ve been looking everywhere, she said sweetly as she floated up to him.

  Dinner is ready, and I want you to sit at my table. I’ll introduce you to all of my friends.

  In a very ladylike way she casually reached out and linked arms with him. In a very naughty way she intentionally pressed his elbow into her bosom to get a reaction out of him.

  “Hey, Cha’Rolette, could you place this up on the shelf for me?” he asked pleasantly.

  Sure.

  Lifting her hands, she carefully levitated the book up to the top shelf and placed it next to the others. When she turned her attention back to him, he was gone. She looked around and caught a glimpse of him as he sprinted around a corner of bookshelves and made a break for the door.

  Hey! Come back here!

  Two books were pushed from behind and fell to the floor. Tulda and Kamanie peeked their faces in through the gap.

  “Now this is just getting sad. She’s practically throwing herself at him.”

  Cha’Rolette balled her fists, her body nearly shaking with anger. The cleaning robot lying on the floor crumpled, crushed by an invisible hand.

  * * *

  Gerald took a moment to sew up a tear in the bag of the local equivalent of potatoes, before hefting it back over his shoulder and walking across the parking lot.

  Hey Geri! A sweet voice echoed in his mind.

  He dropped his head and turned around as she flew over, a tablet in her hand.

  You’re never going to believe this. I just won a pair of tickets to a concert. You’ve never seen a live Vorda show before. I thought it might be a great chance for you to try something new.

  Gerald balled his fists. “By Soeck’s Teeth! I can’t take this anymore!”

  Her eyes widened a little at the outburst.

  Gerald scratched his strong jawline. “Look, you little... ahem. Look, Duchess, you’re a nice per... well, you’re a person, and this is all very flattering, but you really don’t need to do this, okay?”

  Her eyes darted around. Doing what? I’m not doing anything. I just thought it would be fun for you.

  Gerald slammed the sacks down on the ground. “Stop that, okay? Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.”

  Hey, don’t get all mad at me, you’re the one being difficult here!

  “Why? Because I won’t bow down and worship at your feet?”

  YES! It’s like there’s something wrong with you! Are you broken in the head or something? Can you not see how beautiful I am? Do you not know how wealthy I am?

  “Oh, you are so infuriating.” Gerald bit his knuckle to try and calm himself down, but it didn’t work. “I’m not broken, okay? It’s the whole freaking world that’s broken.”

  Please.

  “I know what you are going to say. Any guy should be ecstatic to be in my position, right? The flirting, the teasing, the invite from someone like you. It all seems too good to be true. But then later on, real life kicks in, and you realize you can’t pay the rent with romance. People have needs, they need to eat; they need to sleep. So then I go to work in some office doing a job I hate, surrounded by people I can’t stand for sixty hours a week.”

  Pffttt. Don’t be silly, you don’t even have the education for a desk job.

  “And then every day I look out the window and wonder how I got here, and I realize I’m so unhappy I can barely breathe. But I can’t stop. Oh no, if I stop then I’ll lose everything. So I keep going, living a life I hate just so I can keep something I never even wanted in the first place.”

  I’m a Ssykes. What would I need with your meager salary?

  “...And then what? After twenty-nine years of working myself to death, I’ll come home one day to find the locks have been changed, and there’s a restraining order nailed to the center of the front door with a big old rusty nail. I’ll spend my retirement years digging through trash bins looking for soda cans to recycle. I’ll have to live on the street because the courts will garner any wages I make and give them to my ex-wife while she neglects the son I never get to see and w
astes her time playing some stupid video game!”

  Cha’Rollette crinkled her nose. What are you talking about?

  Realizing he’d gone too far, Gerald got embarrassed and backed off. Fingering his prayer beads, he took a moment to center himself. “Sorry about that. I don’t usually get so upset. My point is, this whole romance thing is a great deal for you. You get everything you’ve ever wanted out of it. But, for me, it would mean giving up on all my dreams.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. What are you talking about? You’re a guy. All you want is sex. Your dream is probably to have your own personal harem or something.

  He stepped in close, towering over her, but she held her ground.

  “And as long as you believe that, you’ll never be free.”

  He spun around and slung the sacks back over his shoulder. “Face it, Duchess. You’re whole world is built on the assumption that I’d do anything to sleep with you. It’s the foundation of all your power and control. Take that away, and you’ve got no cards left to play.”

  She chuckled and flipped her hair back. Don’t be absurd. Every guy wants to sleep with me.

  “Not me.” Gerald looked over his muscular shoulder. “You’ve got nothing I want, Ssykes. You can’t control me.”

  Gerald walked away, looking very satisfied with himself.

  Cha’Rolette steamed hotter and hotter, the tentacles on her head writhing and shaking about. This indignity was more than she could bear. No one turns their backs on a Ssykes. You hear me? No one! Kamanie and Tulda poked their heads up out of a bush, another reproach on their lips.

  Finally her temper snapped and she screamed out loud like a petulant child.

  You stupid idiot!

  Cha’Rolette stomped her foot. The ground shook. The air trembled. An invisible force pierced the clouds overhead and came crashing down, crushing the hovercar behind her flat as a pancake. Birds squalked and took to the skies, fleeing in all directions.

  Kamanie and Tulda held their tongues and closed their mouths, looks of terror on their faces. Slowly and silently, they dropped back down into the bushes, praying she didn’t notice them.

  Jonarl! Cha’Rolette ordered. The air beside her bent and warped as the tall and armored bodyguard appeared alongside her. Leaning in, his whispered something into her ear and a wicked smile crossed her lips.

  So, you think you can’t be controlled, Dyson? We’ll see about that.

  Her green hair glowed brightly and she took to the air, flying off towards the girl’s dormitories. A few moments later, Ilrica walked out, carrying a crate filled with tablets and crystals.

  “What the frakk happened to my skiv!”

  * * *

  The Capital City mission was headquartered in an apartment building that some kindly old man had donated to Soeck after a particularly long night of binge drinking followed by a crazed phone call to his lawyer. You’d think it was street level to look at it from the front. Arched doorways, tiled awnings, a round tower entrance, a cobblestone sidewalk with hanging crystal lanterns, and a kind of iron railing that periodically rearranged itself into the names of various sponsors and local corporate logos that kept this tiny mission afloat.

  If, however, you stepped off the sidewalk into the street, you would find that you were actually standing on a road made of light, through which you could look down to the forty or so stories beneath you. Gerald was terrified of the place. The other initiates had thought him mad the first time they had watched him tie a chain around his waist and anchor it to a streetlight as he crossed over to the staircase on the far side. That is, until they had seen the road flicker and die beneath him, causing him to fall and dangle like a fish on a hook.

  As Gerald walked out of the front door, carrying a pot of soup, he glanced over his shoulder and caught a view of the other initiates, their faces pressed up against the glass in anticipation, various bets being made about what would befall him.

  Hello Dyson, a smug voice said inside his mind. It startled him so much he fell backwards, the soup spilling all over him. Cheers erupted from within the mission, and credit chips were given to the winners.

  Gerald looked up to see Cha’Rolette. She was wearing a pair of stylish lace-up boots that crept up underneath a long tapered sundress, fitted tight at the waist to show off her taught midsection. She topped it off with a lacy half-jacket. Sleek platinum jewelry clung to her wrists and arms. The lavender color of the dress brought out her dazzling jade eyes, and flattered the light green of her skin tone. She looked like a picture of the most beautiful women of all time had just stepped out into real life right in front of him. Accustomed to seeing her only in her academy uniform, seeing her like this kind of took his breath away, and he caught himself staring at her beauty.

  I heard that this little charity project of yours is having funding problems. She floated above him surrounded by an air of superiority.

  “Yes, the new orphanage in particular is placing a great strain on our resources,” he said as he stood up and shook his sopping wet robes.

  She tucked a glowing ringlet back behind her ear. Well, it just so happens that Ssykes Industries has a shipping center here in the city that is in desperate need of a few good tax deductions. I could be in a position to arrange for a generous donation.

  “Well, that’s very benevolent of...”

  If you let me take you to dinner.

  Gerald’s face paled a little when he realized what she was doing. His eyes darted abaout as he tried to find a way out of it, but he couldn’t see one.

  You see, Dyson, you thought you were above being controlled, but now you see what an amateur you are at this game. Everyone has pressure points. All you have to do is find them and attack.

  He turned his head away defiantly.

  She cruelly twirled a ringlet with her finger. Or you could let the orphanage close. It’s up to you.

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re reasserting your position of dominance. Very impressive. But, I’m afraid I’m really in no condition to go out in public at the moment.”

  With a wave of her fingers all of the soup pulled itself away from his hair and robes and gathered together as a weightless blob in the air. The pot mended itself and the soup funneled back in, looking good as new.

  Cha’Rolette gave a self-satisfied sniff and turned around. Meet me at the O’Sterie Fran’Kasana in three hours, she said over her shoulder. Just for show, she gave her perfectly shaped bottom a sultry little wiggle as she floated away.

  Gerald shook his head and glanced back at the mission windows. All the initiates were dumbfounded, their jaws hanging open.

  * * *

  The restaurant itself was palatial. Gleaming pearl white spires with streams of blue energy winding around and about them like swimming eels. The entryway was a vaulted aquarium filled with exotic fish of every color and description. Gerald couldn’t help but pull his cassock tight around himself as he walked underneath it, fully expecting millions of gallons of water to come crashing down on him.

  After a brief kerfuffle with the valets, who kept insisting that he give them his keys, outright refusing to believe that he had walked there, he was lead inside by an extremely doubtful maître’d. Once inside, Gerald was met by an expansive coral reef of gleaming private booths. They grew up in multiple tiers from the marbled floor in a very organic way, appearing to have been carved from some single impossible huge block of veined marble. Winding bone-like staircases and flowing ramps lead up to the upper booths. Despite the enormity of the room, it felt full and alive. A delicate music was playing, although Gerald couldn’t find a source for it. It seemed to come from everywhere. Glistening animals swam around like manta-rays, leaving glowing trails of sweet scent in the air behind them. Silver lights hung above like starlight. Pools of silvery water clung to the walls, their pleasant surfaces reflecting the shimmering lights again and again, making it feel like this place stretched into eternity.

  It felt like he had stepped into some other
world. A place of rest. A place that existed outside of time. A magical realm reserved only for those chosen by the gods. Glancing around at the patrons, dripping opulence from head to toe, he realized this was not too far from the truth.

  It is your first time being in a place like this? A familiar voice asked in his mind. The maître’d led Gerald up to the private booth where Cha’Rolette was waiting for him. She stood up to greet him.

  “Is it that obvious?” Gerald asked.

  “Painfully so, sir,” the maître’d mentioned as he extended his hands. “May I hang up your... burlap sack, sir?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Gerald said as he straightened his robes and sat down.

  He felt completely out of place. Cha’Rolette was wearing a sweeping dress that looked like it was carved from sparkling amethyst, yet it was supple, like silk. The strapless design flattered her generous curves, and displayed the satiny skin of her deliciously perfect shoulders.

  She gave him a dazzlingly beautiful smile and tapped the bottom of her chin with two fingers. Gerald wasn’t sure what she meant, but then realized that his jaw had been hanging open as he gawked at her.

  He closed it straight away.

  She smiled meaningfully. I have brought you a traditional human gift. She explained as she pulled out a package containing a funnel and a long tube. I believe this is called a beer bong.

  Gerald took the object questioningly into his hands. “Ah... yeah... I don’t drink, but thank you... I guess.”

  She tilted her head. This is what the database suggested as the preferred object for human men your age.

  “Well, it’s not completely wrong.”

  She gave another heart-stopping smile and extended her hand.

  His eyes flickered. “What?”

  Did you not bring me anything?

  Gerald fidgeted. “Oh... sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  Cha’Rolette pursed her lips in displeasure. You know, the excuse that you are not from around here is wearing thin pretty fast.

  “I meant no offense.”

  That is all right, you may make it up to me on our next date.