Davis, Jerry - Opposite Ends Meet Here

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Opposite Ends Meet Here

Kyle was alone, as usual, working out with his gyro stick in the small room he rented

above the gym where he worked, when he had a premonition. He stopped what he was doing

and opened his window just in time to hear a woman cry out in fear and surprise. He poked his

head out, blinking in the sunlight, and looked down into the alley below. There was a man

with short gray hair and a silver spacer's jacket advancing on a blonde woman dressed in a

flowing, flower-pattern dress. In the man's hand was a large, ugly knife. "I'm going to enjoy

this, you bitch," he told her. He was advancing, and she was backing away.

"Finney!" the woman yelled. "Finney!" There was the bite of raw fear in her voice.

Gyro stick still in one hand, Kyle swung out the window and hung suspended for a

moment, waiting for the man with the knife to move forward a few more steps. The woman

saw Kyle, and obligingly took a few more quick steps backwards. "Finney!" she yelled again.

"By the time Finney finds you," the man said, "you're gonna---"

Kyle landed on him, so he never finished his sentence. He collapsed like a rag doll, the

knife clattering across the stone walk. Kyle got to his feet, ready to smack the guy in the head

with the gyro stick, but he was already unconscious. The woman, with a look of disgust,

picked up the big knife and walked quickly to the prone figure. She jabbed it into his back

several times.

Kyle stared at her with his mouth hanging open. "Lady!" he yelled.

She pulled the bloody knife out and held it ready. "What?" She was young-looking, thin

and blonde and sharp-angled. Her eyes seemed too blue to be real.

Behind them a gate burst open and a small, black-haired man with dark features came

scurrying up with a gun. He pointed it at Kyle, but the woman shook her head. "Put it away,

Finney. This ape-man just saved my life." She wiped the bloody knife off onto the dead man's

jacket, flipped the blade into the air and caught it, then handed it to Kyle handle-first. "Give

him a card, and put him on the payroll."

She gave Kyle a cold smile, then turned and walked with gliding steps out of the alley.

Finney produced a card and held it out for him. Kyle took it into the same hand that held the

knife and stared at it with a stupid expression.

Debbie Hitler

Sorceress

"She's in the need of a bodyguard," Finney told him. "The job pays an obscene amount, and

I can give you an advance." He produced a large wad of planetary currency, holding it out for

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Kyle to take. It was a lot --- enough to make him think twice about what he was getting into.

"What happened to her old bodyguard?" Kyle asked, staring at the money in Finney's hand.

Finney glanced down at the body between them, and took a half step away from the

widening pool of blood. "He, ah, retired suddenly." Finney looked up into Kyle's eyes. "An

honest man wouldn't have to worry about losing his employment in such a way. You are an

honest man, aren't you?"

"Reasonably so."

Finney took the knife out of Kyle's hand, and put the wad of money in its place. "We leave

before sunrise tomorrow morning. Pack some clothes and a few small personal items and be at

the spaceport early."

"Uh..." Kyle looked down at the ex-bodyguard.

"I'll take care of this," Finney said. "You go settle your local affairs and meet us at the

spaceport."

Kyle shoved the wad of money deep into his pants pocket and, hefting the gyro stick over

his shoulder, made his way out of the alley. It occurred to him to go to the nearest Constable

and report the incident, as he was sure it was horribly illegal, but the thought of lots of money

and a chance to escape his life of mocking ridicule kept him from doing it.

Kyle's dad lived in a nice adobe style home in the Little Mexico quarter, amid sleepy

neighborhood stores and a nearby school. This was where Kyle had spent the latter part of his

childhood, where he grew up with friends that, until finding out the truth about him, had been

dear. There had been summers of stick ball and street soccer, and bittersweet teenage crushes

that lead nowhere. His dad, who was actually his adoptive father and not a blood relation, was

the only person to which he was still close. Kyle stood for a moment in the front yard, reliving

a few memories, before banging on the old graphite door.

"Who is it?" came a dry, old voice.

"It's me, Dad."

"Well, come on in."

Kyle's father was thin, frail, with faded and baggy clothes and long stringy white hair. He

was 167 years old, and half his body was artificial. His new heart had been cloned from the

old one, both still in the body and working together. He could easily last another 167 years if

he wanted to, as long as he took it easy. Kyle gave the old man a gentle hug, then pulled out

the wad of cash. "Look at this, eh?"

"What is that?" His father stared at it with suspicion.

"This is an advance on my pay. I just got a new job."

"You quit the gym?"

"Well, not yet, but I have to this afternoon. I'm leaving the planet."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet."

"You don't know? What kind of job is this? What are you doing?"

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"Taking care of some rich lady. Here," Kyle said, peeling off a few bills. "I'll keep this, you

take the rest." He handed his father the bulk of the cash. "This should last you quite a while."

His father held the cash in his hands as if he were unsure of what to do with it. "Kyle, what

is it you're doing for this rich lady? She doesn't expect you to...?"

"No Dad. I'm her bodyguard."

"Bodyguard!" His father's expression brightened, a smile coming to his wrinkled old face.

"That you'd be good at!" He thumbed through the cash for a moment, then tossed it onto a

table. "When are you leaving, son?"

"Early in the morning. I've got to go take care of some stuff and then I'll be back, and we

can spend some time together before I leave."

"You feel right about this new job? I mean, in your gut?"

Kyle nodded. "Yes. I've got that feeling."

Kyle's father smiled, nodding, showing him the pride in his eyes that he always had for his

adopted son. "Trust that feeling, Kyle. You've got good instincts. What life denied you in

other things, it made up for it in your instincts."

Kyle nodded. He'd heard all this before. "I'll be back in a few hours, Dad." With that he

headed for the front door.

Returning to his rented room, Kyle sorted through what little possessions he had. He

packed them up and took them down to the local pawnshop. They bought it all: a folding bed,

a communications terminal, and some clothes. Then he settled with his landlord, paid off some

bills, and went to the market and bought some nice leather. Knee pants, a vest, and a long coat

in case he ended up somewhere cold. He found a spacer's sack that would hold a few things

plus his gyro stick. After that he had just enough to buy some of his father's favorite imported

tea, which he took back to his dad's house. Kyle meant to have a long father and son talk with

the old guy, wanting to thank him for everything he had ever done for him. The words never

did make it out of his mouth, as they sounded too corny in Kyle's head. Instead, the two men

silently sipped tea together for most of the night. When the second pot was gone, Kyle gave

his dad a long hug, which expressed all the words he'd intended to say anyway, and he left.

The spaceport at night had always seemed an eerie place to Kyle. During his years on this

planet, he'd watched the town spread out to the hills and up and down the Vendies River, but

the spaceport never changed. They would re-pave the surface every once in a while, paint new

lines and string brighter landing lights, but the perimeter fence and the buildings within

remained the same. Everything was metal, everything seemed to hiss and let off steam. At

night, there were rotating red and yellow beacons everywhere, many rising into the air or

coming down out of the starry sky.

The guard at the gate wore a black and gold uniform with a tiny red fez. His face twitched

with the characteristic brain-chemistry imbalance of a cyber-interface; Kyle saw the cables

running down from the back of his head and into the terminal beside him. "Can I help you?"

he asked Kyle.

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Opposite Ends Meet Here

"I'm supposed to meet Debbie Hitler here. We're scheduled to leave."

The face twitched, the eyes blinked. Kyle couldn't see much detail because of the shadows.

"You are...?" he asked Kyle.

"Kyle Dacron."

"The...?"

"New bodyguard."

A machine in the booth made a low buzzing sound. "You are expected," the guard said,

and handed him a freshly printed pass. "Report to the ship on pad area C-5." He pointed.

The ship turned out to be a small passenger shuttle with nobody on board. The door was

locked. Kyle stood around for a while, waiting, listening to the hissing and thrumming from

the other ships around him. Tired of standing, he sat down on the ground with is back against

the cold titanium surface of the ship. Soon he was asleep.

Hours later, an air taxi landed nearby and the pilot got out, walked over to Kyle and kicked

him. "Wake up, pretty-boy. Do your job!"

"What? Do what?"

"Your job!" He pointed at the taxi.

Kyle got to his feet and walked over to the craft. When he was close by the door, it opened,

and Debbie stepped out. "You showed up!" she said, sounding surprised. "Oh! Leather! I like

it." She kissed his cheek, and grabbed him by the front of his pants and pulled him toward the

shuttle. Finney stepped out of the taxi and followed, as did several other people. It appeared

they had all just left a party. There were paper streamers in their hair, and a few had paper hats

and noisemakers. They all stunk of alcohol.

"I want everyone to meet my new bodyguard, Bruce," she announced.

After the drunken chorus of "Hi Bruce" was over, Kyle leaned over to Debbie and quietly

said, "My name is not Bruce. It's---"

"Your name is Bruce," she told him. "All my bodyguards are named Bruce."

Kyle frowned, but didn't pursue it. They all crowded into the shuttle as the hatch opened,

Debbie still pulling him along by his pants. She shoved him down in the front row of seats,

and then reclined across him, using him as a pillow. They others sat around them, laughing

and talking. The babble of voices all blended together, and it took Kyle a moment to realize

much of it was in another language, one that he didn't understand. Debbie was laughing, and

posing, and preening, and all the while her hair was in his face and it was making his nose

itch. The pilot sealed the hatch, glanced around nervously at his unruly passengers, gave Kyle

an eyebrow-furrowed look of disgust, and then ducked into the control cabin. Minutes later,

the craft drifted up into the sky.

It took a while, but gravity finally disappeared and the passengers all began asking Debbie

to do magic. "Do some magic!" "Magic!" "Magic, Debbie!"

Debbie produced a small sack of loose pearls, and opened it. The pearls floated out,

drifting, and Debbie said an incantation and made complex motions with her hands. The

pearls aligned in a circle and began spinning as if in an orbit. She leaned far forward, inserting

her head inside the ring so that her neck was the center of the orbit. The crowd applauded.

"Neat trick," Kyle said. "How did you do it?"

The pearls scattered in all directions, bouncing and drifting randomly. All conversation

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ceased. Debbie pulled away from Kyle and turned, looking at him with a cold expression. "I

do not do 'tricks'," she said. "I am a genuine sorceress. I do genuine magic."

Kyle glanced around at all the glaring expressions, finding only one who seemed

sympathetic. It was Finney. Finney cleared his throat, and said, "Everyone, especially Miss

Hitler, might want to bear in mind that---"

"Shut up, Finney."

"Miss Hitler, he is new to us, and knows nothing about you."

"I told you to shut up." Now Debbie had a pouting expression on her face, like that of a

spoiled little girl. "Kanna ectuc enau-k-tu," she said, holding her pouch open. She repeated the

incantation several times, and with her free hand made a grasping movement. The pearls all

drifted from where they had wandered in the cabin toward the open pouch, and bagged

themselves one and two at a time. When it was all over, there was a spontaneous round of

applause.

"More!"

"Do more!"

"More magic, Debbie!"

Debbie shook her head, putting her pouch away. She sat, sulking, far away from her

bodyguard. She hardly said a word for the rest of the trip.

The shuttle docked at a big orbital station, where gravity was simulated. Finney ran out

ahead to make sure that all arrangements were made. Kyle had to walk fast to keep up with

Debbie, who seemed to be trying to get away from him. The others lagged behind, walking

drunkenly in the reduced gravity and bumping into things.

They caught up with Finney at the boarding airlock of a large interstellar ship. Finney

pulled Kyle aside, saying in a low, hurried voice, "Get Miss Hitler settled, check out the other

passengers for anything suspicious, then get back to me. There's a lot you need to know, and

nobody has had time to tell you any of it."

"Okay."

"Sorry about what happened in the shuttle."

"That's okay. I don't have a problem with it."

Finney stared deep into Kyle's eyes. "It doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Not in the least."

Finney smiled and slapped him on the shoulders. "I'm glad you're with us."

"Thanks." Kyle ducked through the airlock and into the giant ship.

Debbie's cabin was very large, especially for a starship, and looking around the interior

Kyle got the feeling that it was originally designed as a meeting room and was converted over

to a stateroom because of VIPs such as Debbie. She gave him an odd look as he poked around.

"I want to be alone," she said. Kyle nodded and left.

His own stateroom was right across the corridor, but was about 1/20th the size. It was

barely big enough for a bunk, a fold-down table, a commode and a tiny little sink. Kyle tossed

his spacer pack down on the bunk and left.

He wandered the long, narrow corridors for a while, checking out the other passengers.

They were all busy getting settled in their cabins. None of them looked particularly

threatening, but when he reached the entertainment area at the front of the ship there was one

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woman who gave Kyle a bad feeling. She had shock-white hair in a style that fanned out from

the center, and her hairline came down to a point in the middle of her forehead. She was older,

and had a heavy, pear-shaped body. Her face almost looked masculine. She caught him

looking, and her dark eyes widened, her heavy eyebrows lowering. He smiled, nodded, and

continued on his way.

He was heading back toward Debbie's stateroom when he ran into Finney. "This way,"

Finney said in a low voice. He led Kyle into another stateroom, which was no bigger than his

own. Finney closed and locked the door. "Sit down," he told Kyle.

Kyle sat on the bunk. Finney remained standing by the door. "Debbie is from a very rich

family that has a very dark past."

"I assumed she was rich."

"Very rich. Obscenely rich. She does pretty much what she wants, and it's my job to make

what she wants happen."

"I understand."

"The one talent she has, the one thing she did herself and is proud of, is her magic. As

you've found out, she's very touchy about the subject. It's best that you watch her do it,

applaud, and ask to see more. This pleases her very much. Don't question it, don't say anything

about it. That's your best bet."

"I see."

"She learned this talent from a mathematician several years ago. The guy is now a hermit

living on an island off the coast of Terra Marka, on Summerland. We're on a sort of

pilgrimage there now, so she can resume her studies."

"Does she have many enemies?"

"There are people out to get her. Your job is real, though she treats her bodyguards as show

pieces. There have been more than a few attempts on her life. You of course know the

outcome of the last one."

"Why did her old bodyguard decide to turn against her?"

"I don't know. Either he was paid off or just couldn't take the abuse anymore."

"Paid off by who?"

"I don't know. Debbie doesn't have any enemies specifically, but her family does. Powerful

ones."

Both fell silent for a moment, then Kyle said, "How does she do her magic tricks? Were

those specially made pearls, or what?"

"No, it's not the pearls. I guess you could call it telekinesis -- of course, she prefers to call it

magic. From what I understand, she creates a point of gravity, gives the pearls kinetic energy

and adjusts their virtual mass. That puts them in orbit around the point of gravity. She can

only do that one in freefall conditions."

"Interesting," Kyle said. Then he shook his head. "To tell you the truth, you've totally lost

me, but forget it. I'm not going to question it. I'll simply applaud and ask to see more." He

smiled, standing up. "Unless there's anything else ...?"

"Go ahead." Finney opened the door and stood aside as Kyle left.

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The starship's departure was uneventful, as was the first several days en route. Kyle kept

his cabin door open so he could see if Debbie left her stateroom. When she did, he would

always follow, standing in the background as she and her friends lived it up. Since the ship

had a controlled gravity environment, Debbie wasn't able to perform her magic involving

levitation. She was able to show off her skill at spontaneous combustion, by chanting

incantations and setting people's drinks ablaze. Kyle couldn't help laughing when she

inadvertently set off the fire alarm. She flashed him a cold look for this, but it only lasted a

second, then she actually smiled and laughed herself.

Several hours later, after Debbie had retired to her cabin, Kyle was working out with his

gyro stick in front of his open door. He moved slowly, carefully, working up a good sweat. He

didn't notice when Debbie's door opened a crack. She watched him for several minutes before

she opened the door the rest of the way. When Kyle saw her he froze for a moment, losing his

rhythm. He looked her up and down, his face betraying surprise. Then he went back to his

workout without saying a word.

"You can come in and do that in here," she said. "There's a lot more room."

"Thank you, but I'm fine here." Now he wasn't looking at her at all.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No."

"Does it bother you that I'm naked?"

"No. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Why do you ... move ... like that?"

"The gyro stick is intuitive. You can feel where you're weak and work it."

"Work it?"

"It provides constant resistance, so you have to use constant force to move it. Where ever it

is that's harder to move, you move that part more, using more force, building up your weak

areas."

Debbie imitated his movements, gyrating her body. He couldn't tell if she were mocking

him or trying to seduce him. People were approaching from down the hall, so he pushed her

into her cabin and shut the door behind them. "Here," he said, "you try it." He put the gyro

into her hands, then stepped back.

She held it awkwardly, a puzzled look on her face. "I can't move it. It's stuck."

He helped her until she began to get the hang of it. Debbie worked with it on her own for a

few minutes, then frowned. "This is boring. It was more interesting watching you do it." She

pushed it toward him. "Take it."

Kyle took it from her.

"Well," she said. "Do it."

"I'm finished for now."

"Then do me." She slid up against him, pressing herself close, and tilted her head back for

a kiss.

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "I don't 'do' my employers."

She smiled. "It's a condition of your employment."

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Davis, Jerry - Opposite Ends Meet Here

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