Kharmic Rebound

by Yeager, Aaron

  Cha’Rolette could not look away as she watched him wrestle and laugh with the kid on the floor. Slowly, her expression softened, and a faint little feminine smile grew on her lips.

  She was distracted by a tug on her skirt. She looked down to see a grubby little Tateerian food dripping from the corners of his mouth, and a half-eaten carrot clutched in his hand.

  Do you need something, kid?

  Uslaw belched and wrapped himself around her slim waist, giving her a full-on hug. She recoiled at first, bringing her arms up to shove him away. The food on his mouth and tattered shirt was staining her clothes. She looked around, unsure of what to do.

  “Will you come again tomorrow?” he asked, squeezing her even more tightly.

  She froze in place.

  “Pweeease?”

  Her look of shock faded away, replaced by a tender expression. Her arms came down on their own to return the embrace. Just before her hands rested on his back, the front door flew open.

  Ten more Ssykes security personnel entered the small apartment. The air was checked, the seams in the walls were scanned, and every piece of furniture was thoroughly inspected. A suspicious teddy bear was dissected, despite the protests of its screaming owner. When everything was deemed safe, the men nodded to each other knowingly, and E’Duwag Honrinar Ssykes entered the room.

  The air around him was frightening. Gerald could feel his body tensing up just looking at him. E’Duwag kept his ta’atu short and slicked back. The tentacle things tapped rhythmically against his head like impatient fingers. A faded scar ran across his face. Although his skin was a darker green than Cha’Rolette’s, they bore more than a passing resemblance, especially in the eyes. As soon as he stepped into the room, his suit changed its color and style so that he would stand out better against his surroundings.

  He surveyed the room, a look of perpetual displeasure on his face. Some of the kids whimpered softly to themselves. Gerald and M’Quagta pulled the children close to comfort them.

  When E’Duwag turned his icy gaze to Cha’Rolette, she stood at attention, her eyes fixed forward, her hands at her side, her body perfectly straight.

  Cha’Rolette Honrinar Jillintor Ssykes, his deep throaty voice resounded in their minds. What are you doing here?

  Cha’Rolette’s eyebrow twitched. Perspiration formed on her brow. Gerald could see that she was terrified.

  Oh... I... um...

  Stop mumbling! E’Duwag commanded; his daughter nearly jumped. A Ssykes always answers succinctly. Or have you forgotten?

  No, sir. She responded obediently, her voice trembling. I am here as part of a public relations campaign. A new project of mine. We’ve had some bad coverage in the media as of late, and I’m counteracting it.

  E’Duwag looked around and snorted. I don’t see any reporters, I don’t see any cameras...

  Nust held up his little wooden recorder and made a ‘click sound.

  ...What good does it do to be here if no one knows about it?

  Cha’Rolette couldn’t think of a response. She kept her face a passionless mask, but Gerald could tell that inside, she was panicking.

  Let me see your records.

  E’Duwag reached out to his daughter and she flinched, as if she was expecting to be struck.

  I said, stand straight! he roared. He grabbed the bracelet on her wrist, activating her data window. Her test scores scrolled in the air above her for him to inspect.

  As you can see, my record is flawless. In thirty-seven tests I haven’t missed a single question. I am one of only three students to have never received a single demerit.

  Disdain never left his face. That was yesterday, what have you done for me today?

  While the school systems are being repaired, I have been reorganizing the local...

  While you are here slumming around with the scum, your rivals are nipping at your heels. How many times have I told you? Once you get ahead, you have to work twice as hard to stay ahead!

  Cha’Rolette stood there, fighting back tears that threatened to form at the corners of her eyes. Y... you’re right of course. As the number one student, I set the pace, and by being idle, I am allowing the others to catch up to me.

  E’Duwag’s eyes narrowed. It does no good to me if you only realize that after the fact. Now grab your things, we’re going.

  Yes, sir.

  He turned to his men. We’re pulling her out of that ridiculous school. There’s nothing they can teach her there she can’t learn from private tutors anyway. Hire a new batch of tutors, twice as many as before.

  “Yes, Mr. Ssykes,” they responded in unison.

  He turned his icy gaze back to his daughter. We’re going to run you ragged. You’ll earn your place at my table, or you’ll lose it.

  Ch’Rolette tried to hide her hurt. Y... yes sir.

  Gerald was conflicted. On the one hand, he felt like he could never forgive the people who’d made that horrible game. So many lives destroyed. So much pain inflicted. His own mother... Yet, at the same time, he felt compassion for his classmate. It should have been so simple. When you see suffering, you attempt to alleviate it. That is the whole point of the fifth scroll. Yet his bitterness made him want to stand idly by and do nothing.

  This was completely against the spirit of his religion. Helping only those you approve of is deeply blasphemous; yet he could not see beyond his own feelings. Reaching up and grabbing his beads, he offered a silent prayer, asking the enlightened ones to help him.

  “Sir, if I may offer an explanation?” Gerald said as he stood up.

  Mr. Ssykes kept his stony eyes fixed on his daughter as she gathered up her belongings. You may not.

  “Then I will anyway. Modern holo-net viewers are saavy; they know a staged photo-op when they see one. But, the gossip mill, the one people believe? Same as always.”

  E’Duwag raised a green eyebrow. You have not made yourself clear to me.

  “Well sir, these children know who she is. They know whose daughter she is. They have played with her; she fed them. Do you think they are going to keep that a secret? No, they are going to tell everyone that the Duchess was here, caring for these little ones. And those people will tell others. In the end, her campaign will be far more effective this way. People always take rumors seriously. Much more so than fact....”

  His ta’atu rippled slightly. A whisper campaign, eh?

  Mr. Ssykes reached up and scratched his chin; he looked at his daughter sharply. Maybe you aren’t completely worthless after all.

  Cha’Rolette was a little surprised, then remembered to bow to her father, accepting the closest thing he ever gave to a compliment.

  We’ll hold off on the tutors... for now, he said threateningly.

  From the corner of her eye, Cha’Rolette glared at Gerald.

  I didn’t ask for your help, Dyson, she said to him only. I don’t need anyone’s help.

  Gerald and the orphans watched in silence as the security personnel filed out of the room. The teddy bear was stitched back together and returned, and each piece of furniture was returned to its proper place.

  As she was led away, Cha’ Rolette glanced at him. In that instant, she looked so different than she normally did. She looked tired, she looked sad, she looked afraid.

  ...but thank you, she added, and then she was gone.

  * * *

  The next day, Cha’Rolette showed up to class with fresh bruises. She wouldn’t say who did it. She didn’t have to. Everyone knew. The teachers were too afraid to report it, and campus security knew enough to look the other way.

  Chapter Ten

  Although NASA and other organizations had been sending out transmissions into space for many cycles, the first human transmissions to reach other sentient races were actually coverage of the New York Fashion Week, picked up by a Scintillion freighter passing through the Sol System that was hopelessly off course because she refused to stop and ask for directions.

  After being subjected to the creation
s of Betsey Johnson, Marc Jacobs, Vera Wang, and Marchesa Spring, the Scintillions declared the Sol system a no-fly zone, and further distribution of the footage was banned. In fact, the reaction of the galactic community to Earth’s fashion sense was so severe that many years later when Earth was admitted into the Alliance, a full fifty systems threatened to succeed because of it.

  -A Tourists Guide to Earth, 2nd edition, page 6, Valium Press

  There was a little puff of dust as the door to the zoology lab was forced open from the outside. A searching beam of light penetrated the darkness of tangled cages and torn bars. The old janitor peeked in and gave a troubled sniff. The air stank of rotten meat.

  “Oh no,” he groused as he walked in.

  His light touched on scratched walls, smeared blood, and the stink of fear. “What happened in here?”

  Slowly he brought his flashlight up to the vault at the far end of the room. Triple layers of forcefields were silent, and the multiple warning signs were in shreds.

  “Oh no.”

  Something skittered behind him. He spun around with a start, but his light found only a rotting corpse of fur. The gills on the man’s neck puckered in fear.

  Another sound, this time closer. He brought his light to the source but found nothing.

  Then the red eyes opened, glowing in the darkness to his left. Howling in fright, he ran for the door, but, but something grabbed his foot and held it fast. The man crumpled to the floor, his flashlight bouncing free of his grip.

  The light spun around, illuminating his terrified face as something pulled him back into the darkness. He screamed, then all was silent.

  * * *

  “Hey, did you hear about W’Horrg from class 3-C?” Tulda asked as she painted her nails. “She gave Malkewiss her barrier key for Saint Lupin’s day.”

  “Is she crazy?” Kamanie gawked, shielding her eyes from the sun. “He could do anything he wanted to her mind.”

  Tulda cooed. “I think it’s kind of romantic, like giving someone the password to your heart. The ultimate gesture of trust.”

  Kamanie crossed her hands in front of her. “Nuh, uh. No way I’d ever give out my barrier key. Probably spend the rest of my life making sandwiches for some thurg.”

  Everyone’s windows flashed green and the class snapped to attention as it stood out on the athletics field.

  “This is the K2 sniper rifle currently in use by Alliance special operations forces,” Coach Bar-gheiis explained excitedly as he removed the tarp and caressed the long black weapon set up on its bipod. “Accurate to up to five hundred kilsens, its aether-impeller can accelerate the projectile to incredible velocities. I call her Nariko.”

  The other students chuckled lazily, while Gerald scribbled down notes in his notebook. “Just how fast can she shoot, coach?” he asked as he wrote, the lead snapping off of his pencil.

  Bar-gheiis grinned mischievously. “Well, let’s just say the round can go nearly the speed of light.”

  Little windows with pictures of Albert Einstein appeared in front of everyone and the students laughed to themselves.

  “Am... I missing something?” Gerald asked. Lazily, a bird flew overhead and emptied the contents of its bowels, splattering Gerald’s shoulder.

  “Oh yeah,” Ilrica laughed, clapping him on the back, “because nothing can go faster than the speed of light, right, human?”

  The class laughed some more.

  “I feel like I’m missing the joke here,” Gerald said, looking around. He found Cha’Rolette watching him oddly, but she didn’t offer up any explanation.

  “Oh my trob, look at this,” Kamanie said, scrolling through the text further. “Humans believed in relativistic space-time? That is freaking hilarious!”

  “String theory? Are you kidding me?” Aryc commented as he read further. “That’s absurd. Why not just say magic fairies did it?”

  “Now,” Coach Bar-gheiis continued, clearing his throat to silence them, “unlike a beam weapon, your personal defense fields won’t pick this up, so this and weapons like it have become preferred assassination tools. Like it or not, as the elite...”

  “...and Dyson,” Trahzi corrected.

  “Right, as the elite plus one, any one of you could one day become a target from one of these, so it’s imperative you learn to protect yourselves.”

  The students looked at each other nervously.

  “The only way to anticipate it is to sense the aether buildup in the impeller. It’s fairly distinct once you get the hang of it, so you’re all going to become thoroughly intimate with this weapon. I want everyone to pair up.”

  The coach snapped his fingers and a row of such weapons grew up from the ground. Far downfield, the track reshaped itself into a target range.

  Quickly, the students began selecting partners. Gerald approached a couple of them, but they turned away from him. He turned to the glowing Kzoyohaan, but she sniffed and turned away before he could even ask.

  Cha’Rolette floated over to Gerald, shaking her head sympathetically.

  Oh, Gerald, you really must work on your people skills.

  “I’ll make a note of that.”

  She brought the back of her hand up to her cheek. Noblesse Oblige, it is the duty of the elite to set a good example. I have decided to take pity on you. Today you shall have the honor of training alongside the heir to the great...

  She was cut off when Jonarl appeared in between them.

  “I will be your training partner, Madam Ssykes,” he insisted.

  Oh... I... Of course, she reluctantly agreed.

  Before long, Gerald found himself standing alone with only one other student on the field. The girl with red-skin and black eyes, Trahzi.

  “Dyson, you and Trahzi pair up,” Bar-gheiis said as he helped a pair of students load their weapon.

  Trahzi scowled even more than usual. “Why do we have to be paired up with him?”

  “If you don’t want to be paired up with Dyson pick a partner quicker next time.”

  Gerald flicked the translator on his ear. Despite swapping it out twice, it was still translating all her pronouns wrong.

  “Okay, Gerald said, looking their weapon over. Where should we start?”

  “Doesn’t it make you feel guilty?” Trahzi asked, looking him over.

  “What?”

  “The air you breathe, the food you eat, the space you take up. You weaken the whole by your presence; you bring down the health of the group.”

  Gerald clucked his tongue. “I suppose a little, but not enough to like, off myself or anything. I mean, I have a right to exist, same as everybody, right?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled, thinking she was kidding, then realized she was deadly serious.

  “Existence is a right afforded only to those worthy of it,” she said.

  “Okay, I see your point, but tell me, who decides who is worthy and who isn’t? You?”

  Steam began rising up off of her red skin. “Coach Bar-gheiis,” she yelled, nearly making the man jump out of his skin. “We would like a live round loaded into our weapon.”

  “This is no time for boasting, Trahzi,” the coach scolded.

  “It is not boasting if we can actually do it.” Trahzi’s hand burst into blue flame and she created a glowing ball of superheated gas in her grip. “Or should we do it ourselves?”

  Coach Bar-gheiis obviously didn’t know what to do. He looked to Cha’Rolette for confirmation.

  What’s the worst that could happen? she opined. One less Trahzi.

  “I doubt anyone would shed a tear at that,” Tomar added.

  The coach reluctantly conceded and opened up a special case with live ammunition and loaded one round into the weapon.

  Trahzi leaned in close to Gerald. Being so close to her felt like being next to a frying pan. He could feel the heat coming off of her skin. “We are your target, Dyson. Shoot us.”

  Before he could respond, she disappeared in a flash of fire, then reappea
red in a conflagration downrange before a target. Now it was Gerald’s turn to look around, unsure of what to do. “Um, I’d really rather not,” he began.

  “Go ahead, Dyson, you’re her partner,” Tausav encouraged. A couple others chimed in as well.

  “But I’m a pacifist.”

  “By Gorgav’s fist, Dyson,” the coach bellowed. “Discharge the weapon or I’ll kick you out of my class!”

  Gerald lifted up a finger. “Look...”

  “Go on, you cannot hurt us,” Trahzi yelled from downrange. “Even if you hit this body, we would not be diminished.”

  Gerald was amazed, but several of the students nodded in affirmation.

  To emphasize her point, Trahzi turned around, presenting her back to him. “Shoot.”

  Gerald swallowed hard and checked the sights. The crosshairs were just to one side of her, so he tried to change the aim, but the weapon would not move. Readjusting his grip, he pulled hard, but nothing happened. Finally he wrapped both hands underneath the butt and put his full back into it. Another bird flew by and deficated. This time it landed in Gerald’s hair.

  “We grow impatient, Dyson,” Trahzi yelled.”

  “Stop screwing around and shoot the weapon,” coach Bar-gheiis barked.

  “It must be the aether impeller,” Gerald groaned as he took out a handkerchief and wiped himself off. “To a human this thing is like twenty tons.”

  “Of course it is, just alter the necass,” Entayta explained.

  Gerald’s translator had trouble with that word. After a long pause, it finally gave a rough translation as ‘the gravitational constant of the universe.’

  “I can’t change the gravitational constant of the universe,” Gerald groaned. He kicked the butt of the gun with his shoe, trying to scoot it the one degree needed to center on her, but it would not move.

  “Oh, my earring broke,” Aryc noticed.

  “Not for the whole universe, just around the weapon itself,” Entayta added.

  “Still can’t,” Gerald said, giving one final, ineffective kick.