Karma City

by Gardener Browning

  Donna sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Jack spotted a blue gift box with a white bow in her hand.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “You’ve forgotten what today is, haven’t you?”

  Jack paused and rubbed the back of his neck. He cursed his Malady for the forgetfulness and sat on the bed beside her. “It’s my birthday.”

  “You’ve been so upset since you got back from Sable District. Dr. Graves has helped so many people with Malady. Quell is the only respite this city has. You make him sound like an evil scientist from some science fiction story.”

  “Donna, I’m telling you—”

  She put up her hand. “I’ve never known you to want to pack up and run. Why now?” She ran her fingers through his curly hair. “It’s a beautiful day and I don’t have to work. We were going to have a picnic lunch today.”

  “Right, the picnic.” He rubbed his neck.

  She put the gift box in his hand. “Happy birthday, Jack.”

  He held the box and sighed. She was right. He’d never run from anything. His courage is what made him such a successful writer. He’d talk to anyone, travel anywhere, and assume any risk just to get the story. But he’d do it carefully, thoughtfully and correctly. Yet this morning he’d been frantic, fearful and full of doubt. Why? Malady. What happened to his resolve? Where did his courage go? He brought his eyes to Donna’s and found it staring back at him. He leaned in and kissed her.

  “Open it!” She urged.

  With a smile, he pulled the bow from the box and lifted the small lid. There, resting on a tuft of cotton shined a golden pin in the shape of an airplane. He smiled as childhood memories emerged from the fog of Malady

  “One last fold…careful not to rip the paper… perfect! Now it’s an airplane,” said his father.

  “Now it can fly!”

  “That’s right, son. It’s time for lift off. Ready… set… GO!”

  Young Jack pulled back and tossed the paper airplane off the balcony. From the sixth floor, the paper triangle climbed, circled and soared to the street. “That was awesome! Did you see how it banked and swooped?”

  “Sure did. Must have been flown by a very skilled pilot.”

  “Just like you!” Jack exclaimed.

  “Thanks, son. Now, go get your shoes on, it’s time to head to the airfield.”

  “Awesome!” Jack jumped up and down in excitement.

  Once ready, he and his father set off to the station, boarded the train and rode beyond the city limits, to the South Karma Airfield. At seven years old, nothing fascinated Jack more than the wide, white wings, the droning of the propellers and the magic of the wheels lifting off the ground. His father, Mark Halligan, was one of the last pilots in and around Karma. He ran a small business that offered private flights from Karma City to Rime, Lobos and back. With one single engine and one twin-engine aircraft, Mark Halligan safely flew passengers inbound and out, three times a week, with Jack at his side.

  Flying over the city and across the Void Lands filled Jack with wonder and inspired his imagination. While his father controlled the aircraft, Jack would peer out at the world below and pretend to be a great eagle or a mythical dragon flying with the sun at his back and clouds parting over his face. Through the headsets, he and his father would talk about the rolling landscape, the colorful skyline, or Jack’s desire to fly like his dad.

  “It doesn’t look that hard,” Jack said as Mark listened with a smile.

  “There’s more to it than flight controls. You have to keep your eyes on the horizon. Watching the sky and the land is very important.”

  “I’m good at that.”

  Mark laughed. “You sure are.”

  By fifteen years old, Jack worked for his father’s aviation business, flying the single engine plane. He flew travelers along the east to west route to and from Lobos, as it offered two unobstructed landing strips—the South Karma Airfield and Route 88. His father flew the north to south route, flying from Karma City to Rime’s mountaintop airfield. As the Malady pandemic intensified, more people became infected and the flight schedules diminished. Rime closed its airfield. Mark struggled to pay the bills and the cost of upkeep on the planes became a tremendous burden.

  Two hard years of wrestling with the possible collapse of his business made Mark so desperate to keep flying that when Oasis Hospital asked him to transport patients from the Void Lands into the city for treatment, he eagerly accepted. Jack, now seventeen and an experienced pilot, adamantly disagreed with his father’s decision.

  “Jack, have a little empathy. These people need help. Our aircraft can quickly get the infected the care they need.”

  The afternoon sun fell behind Karma’s skyscrapers. Jack and Mark had finished bringing the planes into the hanger and stood on the tarmac arguing.

  “I get it, Dad. But with sick passengers, I’ll be exposed to Malady all the time.”

  “Oasis is providing masks, gloves and cleaning agents. You’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not doing it.” Jack unzipped his flight suit to his waist and stormed off toward his motorcycle parked on the edge of the runway.

  His father called out, “The first group of patients is expecting you to pick them up tomorrow morning.”

  Jack mounted his bike and switched on the engine. He cranked the throttle and the pipes growled. “Fly them yourself.” He sped off into the evening, riding fast throughout the city. His father’s desperation to keep the business going, and at Jack’s risk, angered him. How can he gamble like that? Doesn’t he care?

  Jack’s smile had fallen as a far-off stare channeled his sadness. “I remember him now,” he said to Donna. “The way he was.”

  “Feel like talking about it?”

  Jack took a deep breath. “For so many years I blamed myself. I would lay awake at night, certain that if I had only flown that morning, things would have been different. I wouldn’t have been as tired as he was and I certainly wouldn’t have tolerated the sick passengers fighting with one another during the flight. I wouldn’t have let them distract me. I wouldn’t have…” his voice wavered, “crashed.”

  Donna rubbed his back. “But he survived.”

  “Yes, but the Malady infected passengers didn’t and when he pulled their bloody bodies from the scene, their sickness spread to him. It wasn’t long before the parasite turned my father into an angry, violent madman. Soon, the business went under and I had to deal with it. That’s tough when you’re a teenager. It proved too tough for me.

  “I sold off the remaining airplane to cover two years of rent and that sent Dad into a huge Malady fit. When the fight started, I decided I’d had enough and was going to get on my motorcycle and leave Karma for good. Dad stopped me at the door, shoved me back, and punched me half a dozen times. My bloody nose pattered on the floor as I wrestled to get away from him. He backed me into the parlor, and I moved onto the balcony thinking I’d use the fire escape to get to the street. He chased me, shouting, ‘you ruined my life, you ruined my life.’

  “Donna, I was so scared. His Malady had completely transformed him. His eyes bounced around in his head and his mouth frothed. His whole body twitched. He cut me off, blocking the fire escape; I couldn’t get away. When he lunged at me, I crouched and he tumbled over the railing, falling off the sixth-floor balcony like one of my paper airplanes.” Jack paused. “Over the years, my Malady made me forget the shouting, the pain, the fear and most importantly, the sound of his body hitting the sidewalk. Now I wish it would make me forget again.”

  Donna wiped her tears. “Oh, Jack. I got you the pin because I thought it would bring back happy memories. I know you’ve been having those terrible hallucinations and I hoped that this might make them go away. I…I just wanted to help, Hun. I’m so sorry to make you sad on your birthday.”

  He closed his eyes and concentrated. “I remember the little things that I loved so much as a kid. Flying with Dad. Hearing his scratchy, sand-paper laughter. The way his jump su
it smelled like a cheap pine tree air freshener. The embroidered letters on his right breast pocket that spelled HALLIGAN. I still have that old jumpsuit somewhere.” Jack smiled. “This pin is helping me remember the yellow sunlight shining through the airplane windshield, the vibrations shaking through me as the propeller whirls. I can remember looking down at the tiny shadow of our airplane against the cream-colored clouds and being so enchanted…so happy. Donna, this is a great gift, magical even. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” They kissed and after a moment, she asked, “Do you miss flying?”

  Jack shrugged. “There hasn’t been an airplane in the skies over Karma for nearly twenty years. Nobody flies anymore. Nobody knows how. People are just too sick. The Malady parasite has robbed so much from all of us. So much has been forgotten. I couldn’t remember how to fly if I tried. So, no, I don’t miss it. I’m a writer and that’s what I was born to do.”

  “When did you realize that?”

  Jack rubbed his thumb over the gold airplane to evoke his memory. “My first composition was my father’s eulogy. Haven’t stopped writing since.” He stuck the pin to his shirt collar and turned it so the plane’s nose pointed upward. He stood and took Donna by the hand. “Let’s go.”

  “Are we leaving the city?”

  “No. We’re going to have a picnic.”

  ***

  With folded arms, Luna waited for Albert to finish his phone call.

  “Very good, Dr. Victoria… yes, I have the supporting data. I’ll meet you in an hour. Not a problem. See you soon.” Albert hung up the phone and took off his glasses. He wiped the lenses on the edge of his shirt, and then rambled to himself. “Everything will be fine. You’re about to unlock the secrets of Malady at last. Hang in there.”

  “You’re sounding a little nuts, Albert.” Luna remarked.

  “Sorry. Just a bit nervous is all. I’ve booked a meeting with Carmen Victoria to discuss the Malad-X threat. I’m not going to speak of Gemni because the focus needs to be further analysis of Jameson’s blood.”

  “Thank you. What you’re doing means a lot to me. And I just want to say that I believe in your work. I believe in you.”

  Albert’s eyes watered. “No one has ever said that to me before. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, what can I do to help?”

  “Keep an eye on my lab and on Jameson.” He paused. “Speaking of…where is he?”

  “In the shower.”

  “Great. I need to get in there and freshen up. Can you go see if he’s done? I know he has a parasite in his head, but there is only so much that soap can do.”

  “Funny.”

  “I thought so.”

  Luna stopped outside of the washroom when she noticed the door ajar. She was about to knock but hesitated when she heard Jameson in conversation.

  “You will not use me like that again,” he nearly shouted. “I don’t give a shit what you think!”

  She peered through the margin of the doorway. Jameson stood alone in a cloud of steam, wearing only his pants and boots. Beads of water dripped over his razor-like body lines. Luna’s heart quickened as she eyed him. His shirt slung over his shoulder and he leaned over the sink, starring into the mirror on the wall. His shoulders, solid and defined, glistened like wet stone. His back, tattooed and scared, tapered to a thin waistline that she briefly imagined sliding her hands around. She shook her head, guiltily, and closed her eyes to smolder the flame of desire that heated her.

  “I am in charge,” continued Jameson. “I won’t be controlled by anyone or anything.”

  “An agreeable creed,” Luna interjected, stepping into the room.

  Jameson tensed. “Spying on me now?”

  “Just making sure you don’t forget to brush your teeth. Who’s your imaginary friend?”

  “My what?”

  “Who are you talking to?” She asked sternly.

  Jameson looked distracted. He shook his head. “I’m just collecting my thoughts.”

  “Didn’t sound like it.”

  “Then what did it sound like?”

  Luna regarded his defensive tone. “Like you’re sick, Jameson. Tell me what you’re going through.”

  Jameson sat on the edge of the bathtub. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Close the door.”

  Luna kicked the door closed.

  The look of distraction came over him again. His face hardened as he spoke. “I don’t think I like you very much.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No, not you!” He slammed his fist on the tub.

  She crossed the room and sat beside him. Like a pebble tumbling in the surf, the struggle in Jameson’s eyes appeared in flashes.

  Jameson said, “The shit in that syringe messed me up pretty bad. Graves’ Malad-X…it’s in my mind. I see it, hearing it. I’m even talking with it.”

  “Seeing and hearing what?”

  “The parasite.” Jameson spat the answer with disgust. “Have you ever known me to be crazy, Luna? Well…you know what I mean.”

  “Not clinically.”

  “Exactly. And I’m still not crazy. I’m the same person but now there’s something…someone…in my head.”

  “Someone?”

  “It calls itself Brighton.”

  “The parasite has a name? Did it introduce itself?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Do you see him now? Where is he?”

  “That’s just it. He’s everywhere and nowhere. I only see him in my mind. You think I’m insane, don’t you?”

  “I think you’re sick. And whatever that sickness brings is real for you.”

  Jameson sat in silence for a moment. “Let’s keep this between us. I don’t need Albert losing focus or reserving trust on my account.”

  “What about Quell,” asked Luna. “Will that help keep the parasite in check?”

  “Albert explained to me earlier that Malad-X is highly susceptible to Quell. The problem is that, depending on dosage, it might knock me out cold. He plans to brew up a batch of carefully formulated Quell for my condition but he doesn’t have time now, and he wants to get Victoria’s input.”

  “If Quell’s not an option now, how’re you going to handle this?”

  Jameson shrugged with a smirk. “Brighton and I are still working out the kinks in our relationship.”

  Luna found comfort in his returning sarcasm. “If Brighton gets difficult,” she said, “just hit him with your flashlight. You’re pretty good at that.”

  Jameson laughed. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Luna stood. Jameson hooked her by the waist, pressing her against him. He locked his thoughtful eyes on hers.

  “I could have died on that ship,” he said. “Maybe I was meant to. But you risked your life, like you’ve done countless times, to save me. I don’t know how you keep doing it, Luna. Or why.”

  “When I met you, you said, ‘You don’t ask why out here… the answers are always easy to see.’”

  “I remember. And I can’t let another minute pass without telling you how much I—”

  Albert entered the washroom. His glasses fogged from the lingering steam. “Take forever in here, why don’t you? Hope you didn’t use up all the hot water.”

  Luna pressed her palms against Jameson’s wet, stone-like chest and moved out of his embrace. Her heart drummed so heavily that her body trembled. “We can talk later; okay?”

  Jameson nodded and Luna slipped out of the room.

  Albert wrestled with his nerves as he traversed the halls of Oasis Hospital to meet with Dr. Carmen Victoria. Maybe I should have stopped for lunch first, he mused, nah…I’d just throw up. His tension turned to sadness as he passed the Children’s Ward where so many young boys and girls laid in beds, struggling with Malady. They cried out in fright, rambled in delirium, and whimpered in frustration. The parents sat beside them, doing all they could to ease the emotional pain and confusion.
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  His heart ached and his memories stirred. I used to force myself to walk down this hall every day to maintain my motivation to stop Malady. Not an easy thing, but a necessary one.

  He paused to look into the cafeteria. He smelled the delicious food of the hospital kitchen—roasted chicken, glazed ham and steaming vegetables—and smiled when he heard some of the children laughing while they ate lunch. Oasis prided itself on the finest arrangements for the young patients. They deserved only the best care possible in Karma and this was a standard Albert also believed in.

  Belief.

  I’m not as brave as Luna and Jameson, but those kids need someone to believe in. Why not me?

  Albert pushed open the doors to Dr. Victoria’s conference room. The dark green carpet and red oak table created a soothing atmosphere set aglow by the sunlight pouring in through a wide window. The serenity faded as armed hospital guards stormed the room. One guard ordered, “Place your weapons on the table and raise your hands.”

  Albert complied, raising his hands as high as possible. “I’m unarmed.”

  A woman with graying blonde hair moved in front of the security guards and folded her arms. “Hello, Dr. Walker.” The sunlight glinted off her small glasses. “In times of tremendous tragedy and violence, I have to take precautions, you understand.”

  “Ah, Dr. Victoria, I understand completely. And I’d like to add, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  Carmen dispatched the guards and peered over her glasses. “Spare me the insincerity, Albert. Let’s make something clear. If a deadly riot in the Malady ward and the murder of my beloved colleague are not enough to deal with, I recently learned that you’ve been stealing medical equipment from this hospital for months to bolster your personal lab in Undertown. What did I ever do to earn such disrespect from you?”

  “Fine, we’ll talk about disrespect for a moment. For years, Oasis staff disrespected me and my work. Every day I was belittled by people who were supposed to be my peers and you ask me what you did? You enabled that kind of attitude to flourish on your campus. Even now, as I stand here with only the best intention to help humanity, you look down on me. Carmen, you have no idea what I’ve been through recently and the truth is, there isn’t another doctor in this hospital who can fill my shoes now.”