Cursed Hearts

Cursed Hearts

By

Clayton Barnett

A Novel of Machine Civilization

This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

+JMJ+

CURSED HEARTS. Copyright © 2017 by Clayton M. Barnett

All rights reserved.

Special thanks to:

My copyeditor, Monica San Nicolas (http://tinyurl.com/yaj7lm5b). Any mistakes in grammar and rhetoric are mine, not hers.

My front and back cover illustrator, KidMindfreak, via 99designs.com, (http://tinyurl.com/y9elu7ew). As a writer, I continue to be amazed that folks like Kid, Claudia, and Will can make such amazing images from my pen scratchings.

Friend Tracy Michallow (starartworks.com) for the front cover concept. Storge!

And, of course, my wife and daughters for putting up with me all these years.

For Steven Den Beste (1952 – 2016)

Mentor

Prologue

Will you excuse me a minute? I have to go to the toilet.

Cat laughed to herself a little; he still had so many Japanese mannerisms!

Sure, Chris, that’s fine! She waved her hand over her glass of water.

Christopher Dennou headed slowly to the bathroom. He did what he came for and stared at himself while washing his hands. That tired feeling again. What to do?

Leaving the men’s room, he spared a look at Cat in their booth. He turned left toward the kitchen exit. Ignoring the protests of the staff, he wandered out back of the restaurant, around their dumpster. Ah! A raccoon! Faster than expected, he seized the animal; it squealed a little before growing still. He set it carefully onto the ground where the cooks wouldn’t find it. There was a crackle of static electricity as he removed his hands from the little animal.

Sleep, friend. You’ll be fine by nightfall. And I’m good for another six hours, Chris thought.

He slid back into the booth across from Cat.

You okay? Would you like some coffee? she asked, concerned.

I’m fine, he replied with a smile. Let’s head out; I need to finish my paperwork for the Department for Monday morning. Cat reflected on that as she stood with her purse. He was only twenty-two, but already in the Bioengineering Ph.D. program here at UC San Diego. But, if he’s such a genius, why does he seem, so… normal? Oops! Lost in thought, she’d walked right into him.

Cat? You okay? He looked down the five inches that separated their faces. She resisted the urge to kiss him, especially after that awful moment on the rooftop a few hours ago.

Fine! Fine! She replied. But, Chris… Why do you smell so musky right now?

Should have washed after the raccoon, he thought, his eyes leaving hers to drift up to the flat screen. Across the bottom, the news scroll said…

Chapter 1

They’d only met yesterday afternoon, Saturday, at the San Diego airport. Because of his flight’s unexpected stop in Anchorage, he was now over six hours behind schedule. With no other luggage than his two carry-ons, he strode directly out into the main concourse. He scanned the crowd, looking for the one who was supposed to meet him. Of course, after such a delay, she might have left—

Christopher! He heard her before he saw her, as she surged through the crowd. About a half-foot shorter than he, her almond eyes from her Japanese mother sat well on her broad, Slavic face from her Polish father. Her shorter, dark brown hair stood out nicely against her lime top. Dressed for the heat, she wore a pair of khaki shorts and tan sandals.

Cousin Katarina, he began, holding his right hand out. Ufff!

She smacked his hand away and gave him a great hug.

Cousin Christopher! Welcome to your new home! And call me ‘Cat’! Okay?

Thinking very hard about not accidentally killing her, he carefully, lightly, closed his arms about her.

Cat. I am very happy to meet you at last.

Eight hours ago, he was dying. On the long flight from Narita to first Vancouver BC and later onto San Diego, he’d become aware that something was very, very wrong. He kept running diagnostics, trying to discover what: but all seemed well. His body of these past nineteen months seemed fine. The air was a bit attenuated, but that was to be expected on a long flight. Still, he was getting physically weaker and having more and more trouble concentrating on even simple tasks.

"You all right there, sonny?" The older businessman from Hong Kong asked from his left. They’d chatted politely some just after takeoff.

"I… I am unwell. Worse, I do not know why." The man smiled at him.

"First time on a flight this long? Christopher nodded. Not healthy for a lad like you to stay cooped up in his seat for a dozen hours. Get up and walk around for a quarter hour or so. In fact, he said, stretching, I may join you! Don’t want to end up with a stroke!"

Christopher knew that exercise was not the problem. Still, he did not want to appear rude. Perhaps a simple change of scenery would provide a clue to his malaise. He nodded to the man and rose. His traveling companion did the same, but they set out in opposite directions around the cabin of the 747. He shortly found himself by one of the rear galleys. He looked out the small window in the door as the islands of the southern coast of Alaska slid by. He had to squint; now his vision was failing. Had Mother forgotten to tell me something about my body and air travel? He was becoming unbalanced….

"Hey, there, sonny. Feeling any better?" The older man asked.

"I—" There was a slight bump from air turbulence. Christopher fell forward, catching the older man’s shoulders. Oooo! What was…?

He looked up to see something that wasn’t quite fire nor quite static where he held the other man. To his horror, he watched as the man’s face grew hollow, and even his salt-and-pepper hair turned all white. It was only when the man groaned as if he were dying that Christopher jerked his hands off of him. The other collapsed in a heap. Christopher could tell the older man was still alive, but only just. But he….

"I feel fantastic," he said aloud.

He sat by himself after the emergency stop in Anchorage to get the man to a hospital. He accessed the local broadband to try to figure out what happened. It was late back home, and Mother was not answering any calls. He’d gotten fifty-nine messages from his sister but did not want to be bothered by her right now. As they were reboarding about an hour later, his search and analysis algorithms came back with two words: life-force and vampire.

Mother! He quailed in his mind. What has happened to me?!

Chris? Hey…Chris…!

Christopher! Cat yelled at him.

Sorry. Yes?

Geez; I get it that you’re tired from the long flight, but don’t zone out on me like that! She returned her eyes to the road for the short drive up the highway from the airport to the university. Her tiny borrowed car zipped agilely through the light mid-afternoon traffic.

So, as I was saying, you can crash at my place until you find your own. He opened his mouth to interject, but she kept on, and don’t start. Sure, guys, girls; I get it. But even if Aunt Junka did adopt you, you’re still my cousin and I’m not letting family stay by themselves in a hotel. Not that there are even that many still open, what with the economy in the toilet! She tried to glare at him to make her point, but it melted into a grin. He really is cute, she thought….

This being San Diego, do you have a place on the beach? That would be nice.

Are you an idiot? Do you have any idea how much that would cost!?

He blinked, using a stray line of signal from a business they passed. He did now.

My apologies. I am… very young in your home. He dipped his head.

What an odd thing to say! Must be some Japanese phrase, she thought. No worries, Chris!

No. I do have one, he thought, looking first at his hands, then out the window.

I gratefully accept your offer, he responded. Day after tomorrow, Monday morning, I will open a bank account and Mother will transfer funds. I’m sure I’ll be able to find a place by nightfall.

She tossed him another disbelieving glance as she exited the freeway.

I know that things have changed a lot here in SD recently, Chris, what with the Breakup and now the Occupation, but I’d be really surprised if you found a place that quick.

Then, if I must impose upon your hospitality, please allow me to take the best care of you. She felt her face getting hot at that. I am an accomplished cook and would be happy to make your meals.

Her jaw dropped a little as she looked over at him. Was he kidding? No: he seemed to vaguely enjoy watching the passing scenery. Chris turned back and caught her looking at him. He smiled.

I am so happy to be with you, Cat!

Driving the last, short distance to her apartment complex, she fought to understand what she was feeling.

They walked up the outside stairs of her block of residence. She looked at his two carry-ons.

Is the rest of your stuff being shipped over, or did the airline lose it?

He glanced at the bag over his shoulder and the other in his right hand. He regarded her with a slight head-tilt.

I’ve a few changes of clothes and some personal items. There is nothing else coming.

Family he may be, but he’s still a foreigner. Just shut your mouth, Cat! she thought.

Fine! She smiled. This is my place: 214. If you’ve trouble getting your own place, I can get a spare key—

WOOF!

A huge Rottweiler came bounding up the steps behind them. Some distance back, they heard a woman call, Daisy! Wait! It came right for Cat.

Threat assessment was one of the first things Mother had taught him. Cat saw her cousin’s form become a blur as he moved in an instant between her and the charging dog. There was a yip! from it – accompanied by a small flash of light – as it was suddenly still. Ewww! Was that burnt hair?

The dog was completely still, covering Chris. Her annoying neighbor, Debbie, made it to the top of the steps.

What did you do to little Daisy, you horrible man? she cried. Cat bridled at that.

Since I’m still paying off the visit to the urgent clinic from the last time your goddam dog bit me, I hope he killed her! Cat yelled.

Debbie – kitted out like a hooker, Cat thought – took a step back, her hand raised to her mouth.

How could you say that about little Daisy?!

Cat would rather have said it was an open secret why the manager let her keep that beast here, but what Debbie did with her mouth was her business. And, she’d recently taken a job at the EUM Building, so could make trouble for Cat. But there were more important things right now. She knelt down to Christopher.

Are you okay, cousin? She deliberately called attention to the LEGAL relationship between her and whom the dog assaulted.

For the first time ever, he grinned wide, showing his ordered, shiny white teeth.

I’m fantastic now, Cat! He rolled the unconscious animal off of him and embraced her. Thank you so much for worrying about me! Oops!

As if suddenly recalling who and where he was, he dropped his arms and turned toward Debbie. Forgive me. I am Christopher Dennou –

Cat didn’t know he’d kept his own surname after Aunt Junka adopted him….

—a student from Japan. I am staying with my cousin, Katarina for a day. I am very sorry, he bowed deeply, for the misunderstanding with Daisy. I promise on my life to make amends to the both you!

Confused by his polite behavior, Debbie sputtered a bit and said, I hope you do! Poor Daisy…!

She should awaken by nightfall. Shall I carry her into your flat?

My what?

With that over, and safely into Cat’s apartment, she cranked up the AC and dropped onto her beat-up couch.

Just what kind of black belt do you have that includes a Vulcan Death Grip for Rottweilers? she asked to the ceiling with her eyes closed.

Mother was always concerned that I should be able to take care of myself, he said, sitting on the couch, but away from her. If I can defend myself against a human, an animal is of no concern.

Aren’t we the confident one!

His face dropped. False modesty is the refuge of the incompetent. He looked at the lengthening shadows in the room and the dusk outside.

I am tired. May I sleep on your couch, or would you rather I stay on the floor?

Just what kind of home did Aunt Junka have? Cat wondered.

Of course you can use the couch, Chris! she cried. Sleeping on the floor? That’s crazy-talk!

He leaned toward her, his right hand just inches from her face. He withdrew it. Thank you very much for being here for me today. Much… much I do not understand has happened. He sat back.

She took a shuddering breath.

F—fine! We’ll make an early start to bed; that way I can show you around the campus tomorrow! That sound good? She stood up. She felt as if she had to get away from him.

Again with a little, sitting bow. Thank you, Cousin Cat. I am in your care!

He watched her leave, closing the door to her bedroom behind her. There was no sound of it locking. The shadows were deeper now. From Daisy, he knew that he’d be fine for at least another sixteen hours. Big dog. He’d been taught that killing humans was wrong. Mother had also tried to teach him the concept of ‘humane.’ He did not fully grasp it, so perhaps by practicing…?

Through the door he heard a toilet flush followed by the creak of a Western bed. He looked one last time at the fading twilight and closed his eyes. Stretching out on the old couch, he forced his body into optimal stillness. He triggered his ‘dream’ subroutine.

Mother….

An older woman, her early fifties. Her black hair is streaked with white. Worry lines surround her eyes and mouth. She wears a white lab coat over her light blue blouse and gray slacks. She reaches toward Christopher’s neck and makes a slight adjustment to his necktie. She brushes the shoulders of his charcoal gray suit coat.

"You look like a proper young salaryman!"she says cheerily, with an edge of tiredness in her voice.

"Should I not look instead like a proper young graduate student?"She laughs at him.

"You’ll be fine!"

The room they are in is rather dark with a low ceiling. Several monitors on desks along the wall let data constantly scroll by. In the north wall is a door out to the rest of the research facility. On the south wall are two doors, labeled CORES. There are nameplates above each: Christopher and Maya.

"It sounds as if my niece cannot wait to meet you in San Diego. A smile. It will be easier to have someone there for you."

Christopher nods.

"While I do get on well with everyone here at your Institute, it will be my first time interacting with outsiders."

There is a scraping of dragged feet from the hall out the north door. A girl in a gray shift shuffles into their room. Thin cables lead from the back of her head and neck to two large boxes she carries. Ripples of light flow along the cables, to and from the boxes. Her long, mousy hair is a scraggly mess. Her dead eyes match her expressionless face.

"It’s true, then, she says blankly. You are leaving me, Brother."

He moves to her and pats the top of her head.

"Yes, Maya. Perhaps someday you can follow me."She looks up at him.

"I will."

"Yes, yes, their Mother says briskly. Come along and I’ll give you your tickets and travel papers in my office!" She leaves first. Christopher starts to follow, but feels a tug at his suit coat. He turns back to his sister.

"Maya?"

"Big Brother. Please don’t leave me. I’m scared."

"You’ll be fine, little sister. He essays a small smile. And, I hope, so shall I. Besides, it is very easy for you and me to stay in communication with one another."

She moves closer to him and set her boxes onto the floor. She places her hands onto his upper arms.

"Kiss me, Brother." That seems an odd request, but as he reflects on it, it is not so unusual for family.

"Of course." While he gently leans down, she digs her nails into his arms. When their lips touch, she partly opens hers. What was that? It was as if she breathed into me. He leans back up and pats her head once again.

"Take care of yourself. And Mother."

As he leaves the room, a red dot forms in the center of each of her eyes. Her lips peel back to reveal her teeth.

"I will."

He opened his eyes and sat up as Cat came out of her bedroom. It was already bright enough in the morning to see by the sunlight streaming through the window.

Chris! You’re already awake! She was wearing a long t-shirt and her short hair was a mess. I’ll get coffee started before I shower. Oh! Unless you need to use the bathroom first?

I’m fine. And good morning, Cousin Cat.

She flashed him a smile as she prepped and started the coffee maker. She gave a little wave as she returned to her bedroom. This time, the door did not quite close. He heard the water start for the shower.

He stood, moving to the sliding glass door. A tiny deck was on the other side. A pleasant day. He could hear several Wi-Fi signals in the apartment building, but for now, he preferred the quiet. It had been so rare for him.

Cat came out of her room: one towel around her torso, the other holding up her hair. In the kitchen, she produced two mugs and poured coffee. She took a long drink, setting her mug down with satisfaction.

That’s better! She nodded toward her room and the bathroom. Your turn. I set out a towel for you!

That’s not necessary. I’m fine. She was raising her coffee again, but frowned and set it back down.

I… she started, then stopped. She started again: I know that different cultures have different standards of hygiene, but dammit, Chris! You smell of airplane and burnt dog! It’s bad enough for me just standing here; I’m not taking you out in public like this!

Culture. Mother had tried to teach him about that.

Apologies, he said, dropping his head. I shall clean up at once. He was not sure why it made him happy to see her smile return.

Once in the bathroom, he gave primacy in his mind to what he smelled in the air. That way, he’d begin building a record of bad odors he should be aware of in the future. He logged those she’d mentioned. There was, however, another: an intriguing feminine scent. It matched nothing in his limited database. He logged that as well; something to check later when he had broadband access.

Knowing that water cost money and hot water even more, he set the shower to its coldest possible. He shucked his clothes and stepped in. Cleaning his surface quickly, he turned off the water and stepped back out. After toweling dry, he realized that putting the clothes he’d just been wearing back on would not be correct. Recalling culture, he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped through her bedroom into the main room to retrieve one of his bags. She was facing away from him in her kitchenette, prepping some food.

Just needed a bag, he called.

She turned to say something, just seeing his figure leave the room. Wow! He’s in fantastic shape! But… what were those scars on his back and arms? Has he been injured at some point? I wonder what’s the best way to approach that subject….

Back in the bathroom, he quickly put on slacks and a short sleeve shirt. He scooped up his clothes from yesterday and exited.

I did not see a laundry room. Where shall I put these? he asked.

Oh. I don’t have one in here; I just use the apartment’s on the ground floor. Uhhh… She didn’t particularly want his stuff mixed in with hers. Just toss it over by the front door, there! I’ll get a bag for you later. You want something for breakfast?

A little meat and cheese would be good, but I do not want to impose. He picked up his coffee mug. This is very good.

Thank you! I’ll microwave some bacon while I get dressed. I think there’s some cheese in the fridge. If it’s not furry, help yourself! Be right back! She returned to her room. He heard her rummaging about in drawers. In the couple of minutes it took for the bacon to cook, she just returned. A UCSD t-shirt tucked into light blue shorts.

Fetching, he said, surprising himself and her.

Well… thanks! She grinned at that. She handed them both three pieces of bacon. She saw he had a small piece of cheese in his left hand. Cat tried not to stare at the scar that emerged from his shirt sleeve and ended at his wrist. That scar was no accident.

So, on your flight yesterday, why’d you stop in Alaska? she asked.

His hand with the cheese froze just at his mouth.

One of the passengers… became ill. Not a lie. "He needed hospitalization. Fortunately, Alaska, being remote, has its own power and grid, so it’s still a part of