Kali knocked on the archway before popping her head around the bend. “Sunshine?”
Ash blonde hair wild, Rikard Loklear sat curled over his ComUni. The hovering screen was black and covered in colourful bits of code. He sort of muttered his own greeting in reply, but did not actually register she was there.
Kali walked behind him, nosey, but ready to back off if he commanded it.
She watched with daughterly pride as her father’s long fingers nimbly streaked across the electric blue keyboard being holographically beamed in front of him on the desk. To an observer greater than five meters away it would seem as if he tapped the air.
“Ten minutes and I’ll be right with you.” His hand shot out to pat Howl twice on the head before his fingers went back to work on the VirtuaPad. “Did you enjoy the breakfast dumplings I smelt your father creating for you?”
“I have yet to taste them. He wants you to come now not five minutes from now.”
“Standard. I’ll come ten minutes from now.”
She scrunched her face, knowing ten minutes and the sarcastic message would make Creighton pissed.
They would fight, and she hated that.
Distracted by the code, Kali figured if she pointed out a mistake, he’d be pulled from his focus. She bit her lip. As usual, his work was near flawless. It needed to be when you were a highly ranked security officer for the Alliance.
Kali had been taught to be as masterly as he was, maybe better in the future.
“Mistake,” she murmured and pointed it out to him two rows from the top. “See here. This sequence won’t work in the mark-up language you’re using. You probably need to redo this whole section. You don’t have time to do that, and carrying on is a waste of time until you’ve corrected the error.” She patted his shoulders. “Come now. Please?”
Flying fingers froze, and Rikard blinked at what she pointed to. There was silence before the tension and disbelief vanished. His expression shifted to pride. “Thanks, princess.” He rubbed his hands tiredly over his whiskered cheeks.
He turned to pierce Kali with sea blue eyes, a genetic trait of the Loklears, and ran an appraising look at her thick pyjamas, fighting a smile when he figured out the pattern emblazoned on the fabric was fluffy bunnies on fire. “Kali, my dove, what happened to that lovely sleepwear we bought you last weekend?”
She cringed. “Max spilled sauce on it. It stained.” She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come on, Papa wants to go. He has a meeting, and he’s got the, “I’m stressed and going to get more crows feet,” look on his face. You know how cranky he gets when you make him late.” She looked at the ComUni. “Computer, hibernate.”
The VirtuaPad folded until it was a symbol floating in front of the blank ComUni screen.
Kali pulled again, and Rikard lifted out the high-backed chair. His eyes twinkled when she tugged on his hand.
Rikard was a gentle giant whom loved Creighton and Kali, and would do anything for them. Raised in the upper echelons of HiCaste society, as the second born son in the Loklear clan it was expected he lead a privileged and blessed life. His peers cringed at what he had; thinking him better than what he “settled” for, but to Rikard, life was bliss.
He was in love with a man who was handsome and intelligent, tempered severity with kindness, and who loved Kali as much as he did.
He had married that man, and given him his last name, something that was not done in modern society, but something Rikard had to do. It was insurance. If anything ever happened to him, Creighton and Kali were lawfully able to demand the sanctuary his family name provided.
His daughter was precious, rare, and every day he thanked the stars she had been given to him.
Kali was part of the reason he worked hard. Creating a better world had driven him as a youth, but the need to create one for his child drove him as a man.
Society was a mess.
Genetic tampering had changed mankind into something other than Human. Technological advances had seen more than two thirds of the world living in a post apocalyptic squalor. It wasn’t even contained to the quadrants that had come late to the treaty.
The Continents off Home World were an abomination.
His family had a house, a garden, and real food rather than cubicle rooms, and nutrient liquids. They knew what it was to sit in the sun and breathe fresh oxygen rather than dying under toxic smog and manufactured air. His child laughed and relaxed rather than trained in weaponry to learn how to defend herself in the harsh OutRim.
The LoEco quadrants sickened him. They gave him night terrors he woke from drenched in sweat.
Treaty10 hadn’t been as successful as the ignorant reckoned it to be. There were sectors on the continent that were fully computerized. Cold, impersonal, barren areas of metal that supported the basics of life but hindered its growth. The people were weak, breeding into emotionless voids and genetic misfits.
The very thing the treaty had been created to avoid.
He was ashamed to say his family, his ancestors, were one of the direct causes of this horror, but Rikard was determined to become part of the solution.
“Princess, next time, don’t read what is on my screen. That habit must stop. It’s dangerous for you to know the things I work on. Not again, do you understand?”
Kali’s grip on him tightened in fear at the warning in his voice. She knew her father was a powerful man from an even greater family – one she was not welcome in. He dealt with sensitive, top-secret information, most of which never saw more than a few pairs of eyes. Ever. It was not safe for her to know it. That it was so classified worried her. He screamed at night. She knew there were things he sometimes did that sickened him to the core. He wanted her away from that. These unwholesome things he did aside from his humanitarian work were because of the deal he had made years ago to ensure her safety.
“Sorry,” she muttered, concern shadowing her eyes and causing a downward tilt to her lips.
She shrugged it off and beamed at him, tugging again.
Love is why Rikard let Kali take him from his crucial work and prod him towards the kitchen. The sooner he got to his other desk the sooner he’d carry on.
“Let’s take off,” she rushed, and released him to clap her hands three times.
“Cosmic. Let me grab my things–”
Holding up a hand to still him, Kali whizzed around the room. She grabbed his rucksack, his MiniComUni, his coffee flask with the funny coder joke, his OmniLock, his TalkMe, and his security pass she clipped onto her collar.
When they reached the kitchen, Creighton was pulling on his trench. He grabbed his OmniLock, and shot a panicked look at the digital clock mounted on the wall that was programmed to look like distressed bricks.
When his vexed eyes landed on Rikard, his face relaxed, and genuine pleasure showed in the subtle twist of his lips.
There were few things more enjoyable to Kali than watching her parents see each other after a separation, even a short one. There was always boundless open affection, and they never hesitated to draw her into that warm bubble of happiness.
Whatever her DNA said, she was the daughter of Creighton and Rikard Loklear. They had named her, and raised her since she was a couple of days old.
Creighton gave Rikard a kiss. “Welcome back to the world of the living. Third night in a row you’ve abandoned our bed.”
“Sorry. I’m being pushed hard at work. They’re ... something big has happened, and they’ve sent me strange bits of code to re-work.” He plucked the flask out of Kali’s outstretched hand and refilled it from the built-in coffee machine. “I’ll make it up to you.” He winked. “Promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” Creighton grinned.
He had a lovely smile, bright, even if his bottom teeth were crooked.
Kali slouched on the stool and smeared a thick sweep of chocolate spread on a dumpling, humming to herself.
“Now princess,” Rikard began, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “What are you doing today?”
Kali took a large bite of dumpling and closed her eyes to let sweet, chocolaty heaven make everything better. “I’ve already had this conversation with the alternative parental unit,” she answered around a second mouthful. She counted off sticky fingers. “Find employment, find employment, and, um,” she snapped her fingers, “find employment.” She snapped those fingers twice more.
“Don’t fool around with Maximilian all day. If we find another stain on the furniture….” Creighton trailed off because the threat in his tone was enough.
“Showdowns at high noon get messy,” she defended.
“What in the name of science do you mean?”
“Max found a cool site on the IntraWave that has loads of old video games adapted for HoloSphere tech. Otherwise, I’d have to find an antiquates dealer to find me the actual consoles they used to play, and buy a power conversion unit since they run off electricity.” She made a face. “Electricity, can you believe it?”
Creighton was amused. “Your grandmother was raised in an electric power household. BlueAtom8 was discovered after her birth. I’ve watched HoloVids of her as a young woman on the VidSee using electrical items until the family saved enough money to get the house converted to use Blue Matter.” He opened his arms for a hug she eagerly accepted. “Don’t play this game whilst you have food dangling from your mouth.” He squeezed her tight and popped a kiss on her nose. “Be good. We’ll message you later if we’re going to be late.”
Rikard stood on the other side of her and rubbed her back. “Thank science we don’t have a RecRom.”
Kali shuddered. The idea that she would spend time in a RecRom with Max or any man was downright insulting. She’d gotten her rec license when she turned sixteen like everyone else, but she’d held onto her virginity for months until an unwise tryst with Max. The sexual log of her profile was clean apart from that encounter.
Rikard pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We love you,” he murmured.
She pressed her cheek into his chest and hugged his middle. “Love you guys too.”
They left through the front door in a bustle, and a low murmur of conversation.
She didn’t know how she would ever survive without them, and thanked her stars she wouldn’t have to for years to come. Recent medical advancements extended Human life significantly if you had enough credit to afford the treatments. Kali looked forward to keeping her parents around in prime health until they pushed a century and a half at least.
Itching her collarbone she frowned when plastic crackled. Cursing, she plucked the security pass off the collar of her pyjama top.
Dashing to the front door, Howl dogging her heels, she reached for the handle and stopped. Annoyed she yanked the door open. “Oi.” She closed the door. When she opened it again, Rikard waited, one foot in their trusty FloVe, a four-seater hovercraft that was already floating off the ground. “Here.” She jiggled the security pass between her slender fingers, making the video image of him on the thin surface ripple monochromatic before she chucked it to him. Kali closed the door and opened it again, feeling the tension release. She’d have to close it another two times now she’d opened it after the third close, but at least she had gotten Rikard his security pass in time.
Rikard caught the pass and lifted it high in victory. Grinning, making a ‘what would I do without you’ gesture, he blew her a smacking kiss.
Creighton waved through the windscreen then stilled. He cringed and retracted the hand.
Too late, her arm already returned the wave, but she didn’t mind. Her parents drove away, and she waved until they turned the corner. Kali kept on waving, counting to thirty.
Across the neat HiEco suburban street, a tall, well-built blonde-haired male waved at her from his front door.
A tiger – Bengal breed with white fur and bold black stripes – stood at his side. Howl barked a cheerful greeting to the fellow FetchMe. The Bengal turned its head with bitchy regale.
Kali laughed as Max bounced on the spot trying to keep warm in the chill morning air. “I’m not waving at you,” she called, her hand still flying from side to side. “And you still haven’t programmed Baby to accept Howl.”
“Sure you are,” he shouted, still waving with both arms. Kali laughed as he panted. She stopped waving when her mental count was done. Max stopped waving too, grinning fondly. “And don’t worry about Baby, she’s been in a foul mood all week because I did tell her to accept him. She didn’t roar, or attack him like usual, did she? Let me wash and throw clothes on.”
“Hurry and I’ll save you a dumpling for breakfast. The door’s unlocked.” She rubbed Howl’s crown. “Leave Baby behind if she’s acting funny. The last time she scratched Howl I had to send him for healing. If she hurts my FetchMe again, she’ll have me to deal with.”
Kali closed the door, opened, and closed it her additional two times.
She went back into the kitchen to finish breakfast after pouring a bowl of electric pink LiquiNu for Howl to lap at to bolster his nutrient levels. The thick liquid was packed with antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals, as well as other stuff the body needed. It was possible to survive solely on LiquiNu, and the poorer citizens of the OutRim did.
She shuddered to think of it.
Kali asked Howl to go grab her forgotten TalkMe from her room, and read popular news feeds as she ate, easing into a comfortable silence.
Sunlight filtered through the glass panes of the ceiling to floor doors that led into the garden. Past the patio, was a wonderland glistening under the early morning sun, and a pink dawn highlighted fluffy clouds.
Done with the first news feed, Kali slid her fingers over the TalkMe touch screen. She brought up the remote application to turn on music. After a brief pause, the gentle twinkling of a harp mixed with a rocky baseline blasted through the house. The programme was popular, analyzing the requester’s brainwaves and heart rate to determine what genre of music the listener would be receptive to and stringing the notes together in real time. Each piece was a unique symphony.
Kali enjoyed hearing how she felt. It was oddly soothing.
She finished the second dumpling, and sipped the tart orange juice, raising an eyebrow as she read yet another story on how agitated people were becoming due to a rumoured Quarantine that had come into effect, the first in a decade.
Max, wet hair slicked back, strode into the kitchen, and pulled up a stool. Dropping onto the padded seat, he snatched the last dumpling from her hand. “Mine,” he crowed. He devoured it in one chomp. “Hmm. Sweet.” He licked chocolaty fingers and waggled his eyebrows.
Kali used a finger to slide him her glass of juice. She forced a smile. She’d offered the dumpling after all. The fact he’d made it in time to make good on the offer was standard. She’d had two dumplings, instead of three. It didn’t matter.
Kali repeated that like a mantra; two was as delightful as three.
“Learn anything last night?” Max asked. His eyes roamed for food.
He spied the cereal box and grabbed it before scowling. Reading Max’s DNA, the box turned red, and an advertisement for a new FloBi flickered on.
“There should be a new box in the bottom cupboard next to the FeedMe.”
His eyebrows plunged, and he smirked. “Aren’t I a guest?”
“Do I look like a FetchMe,” she snapped, and dumped the empty box in the trash compactor.
Chuckling, Max went hunting for a bowl and milk. “You should upgrade this kitchen.” Kali shrugged. He shook his head. “Weird.”
“Whatever. Last night I watched a martial arts film. Things got interesting.”
Max dumped food on the table with a clatter. “Show me?”
Kali jumped off the stool, and opened a draw to snag a rather large knife. Without turning, she said, “In-between the two picture frames on the far wall.”
The space she referred to was about an inch thick in width. As she opened and closed the draw an additional two times with one hand, Kali quarter turned, and without pausing to blink threw the knife with her free hand into the opposite wall. It embedded itself in-between the picture frames, dead centre.
“That was my left hand,” she said proudly, wiggling her digits. “I’m ambidextrous.”
Max clapped his heavy palms together then clicked his thumbs to give her gun fingers. “Stellar. You still can’t apply the same learning technique to analytical abilities rather than physical?”
Kali shook her head then tucked hair behind her ears before dragging her clip out, wincing when hair pulled. She held the clip in her mouth freeing her hands to do the ponytail again. “If it’s purely movement of the body, I watch it once, and can imitate if it’s physically possible. But anything that requires use of intellect, like cracking ComUni code, I can’t do.” She frowned as she finished the ponytail with a flourish. “If I watched somebody hack into a database then was able to hack into the same database using the same key strokes on a VirtuaPad, sure. I’d be moving my fingers in a certain pattern, but that wouldn’t work in any realistic scenario.”
“You’re smart anyway. That’s not a big deal, I guess.”
“Imagine how useful an eidetic memory would be considering what I can already do.”
Kali wondered if somebody had both abilities. They would be a force to be reckoned with.
Max shrugged brawny shoulders. “You can do a lot already, Kal.”
He was right. What she did was extraordinary by her own standards. Kali wasn’t known as dim. Compared to average her intelligence quotient was frighteningly high, and her practical left-handed-outlook to situations made her approach problems sideways.
Nobody but Max knew about the physical skill she had, but that was only because she’d only just consciously realised that what she did was abnormal, and he’d been there to witness the moment it happened.
Max and Kali shared a love of retro culture. Watching films from the previous century, playing old video games built outside of the HoloSphere, listening to pre-recorded music that was created by people, not machines that analyze your mood.
They’d been watching a HoloVid about ballet, and when the ballerina auditioned for the prima role Kali stood to mock the dance. Her body took control. She danced the choreography as if she had been a ballerina her entire life. Leaping across her sitting room like a spectral being, she’d been graceful, poised ... just sensational. Her toes had bled and her muscles ached afterward, but she remembered being elated then decisively terrified.
She didn’t understand how she had been able to do it considering she’d never had a lesson in her life, and she’d never been to the ballet. Kali was the kind of girl who screamed profanities at her favourite HoverBall team, not the kind who strapped on satin shoes and danced around. She had always been gifted at physical tasks, and her professors said she took direction well, to the point they always questioned if she had previous training.
Never before had it been that obvious how she learnt was different.
Kali watched fight scenes and mimicked everything, everything, flawlessly. She watched a body movement once, and without having to practice, she copied it. Her body remembered the movement, and she didn’t forget how to do it.
She made Max swear not to say anything to anyone.
They debated possibilities in-between the endless search for employment, and ruled out her ability being supernatural or paranormal in nature. There was a logical process her brain and body went through. She couldn’t think of anything then do it. She had to see the movement to replicate it. Anything she watched enhanced or altered by special effects became apparent.
“I searched the IntraWave for the characteristics I’m displaying,” she said. “I didn’t find anybody who has ever reported similar abilities, but I think I found something relevant. If I’m right, I have an extreme muscle memory syndrome. I found an article written by a scientist that suggested a skill called Implicit Procedural Memory might be possible in humans. I think that’s what I’ve got.”
Kali spoke of the ability like an illness, and that reflected how she felt. She was already a bump in the elitist road. This was another oddity that would single her out as a freak.
HiEco society demanded perfection and uniformity.
It burned her parents were shunned by their peers and not invited to Alliance banquets because of her, because she was ‘defective’.
“Alright.” Max shrugged. “That’s better than what I had.”
Kali cocked her head. “What did you think it was?”
“That you’re an alien superhero thrown off your home plant because you have mental problems.”
Pinching her lips, Kali threatened to throw her TalkMe. He pretended to duck and chuckled as he munched from an overloaded spoon. Milk dribbled down his chin. He swiped it away with the back of his hand, and wiped it on his grimy tank top.
“Not funny,” she grunted and smacked his beefy arm. “I have a serious–” Whack. “Medical–” Thump. “Condition.” Slap. “You’re not allowed to take the piss.”
He fended off her blows by jerking to the side and kicking her stool. She squealed when it tilted dangerously and grabbed the tabletop to keep from falling.
“We’ll do more research.” The spoon he shoved inside his mouth muffled the words. “Is the scientist still around?”
“No.” Kali made a sad face. “He died early twentieth, a dead end there.”
“Ah. Message me the link. Maybe we can follow up somehow. He must have published other articles or research on this theory. Don’t worry. If it’s there, we’ll find it.” He paused. “Ask Rikard. If there’s anybody who can help it’s your father, Kal.”
She grimaced. “I don’t want to worry my parents right now. They’re concerned I haven’t found a job. Each day the light in Papa’s eye gets more intense when he asks how it’s going.”
He patted the top of her head. “How is it going?”
“Awful.” She was too depressed to even take a swing at Max for the head patting. “They see the name Loklear and start salivating, but the nanosecond they realise who I am the excuses roll in. I’m too young, too educated, not educated enough, or I’m lying when I say I graduated already. If by starlight they get past all of that they get prissy when they find out I have no experience.” She raised her hands and let them fall to slap her thighs. “Of course I have no work experience. I finished studying three years early a month ago.”
“I’d get you a job at Pluto’s if Dod was hiring. He had to let people go last week. I’m waiting for the day he slaps my shoulder and tells me to take a hike.”
“Yes, because I’d love to tell my insanely successful parents I’m working as a serving girl for LoEco citizens. If things were different I’d be grateful, but I’m an embarrassment to them already.” She sighed. “At least you have a job. It’s something to put on your profile.”
“Yeah. Freezing my ass off on my bike for four hundred credits an hour doesn’t exactly impress, Kal.” Max shook off the melancholy and grinned. He was a cup half full kind of person, always able to push everything away to have a good time. The tabletop got drummed. “I want more action.”
Kali plucked the knife from the wall in case she forgot to remove it before her parents got home. “Max?”
“Yeah?”
She flipped the knife and caught the tip on her forefinger, balancing it on the point. Grabbing the hilt, she hurled it at the chopping board on the other side of the room. It landed dead centre in the block of wood. The blade wobbled, rooted at an angle.
Max swallowed hard and dropped this spoon into the mixing bowl he’d been using as breakfast crockery.
Kali’s fists met her hips in satisfaction. “Do you know how to use the FeedMe? I need to make a dumpling.”