A (Not So) Healthy Dose of Chaos: A New World

  Ken leaned over to Angelica. “Is that your older sister?”

  “Older sister?” She started giggling, and told the woman on the other end. The woman blushed, and laughed. “She’s my mother.”

  Angelica gestured to Ken, and he could have sworn he heard a vaguely stylized version of his name in the conversation.

  It would have been nice to understand them.

  Then Ken got an idea. He remembered what Silver had told him earlier: “Most of what you can imagine, you can do.”

  He closed his eyes, imagined the sphere and dots, and calculated, in order to understand them. He really didn’t think it would work.

  But sure enough, he was able to listen into the conversation.

  “—seems okay, but I’m looking forward to driving an Earth automobile. It should be different than one of ours,” Angelica clearly said.

  He did notice a slight echo to her voice, and guessed it was a side-effect of being able to understand them.

  “So, let me fully introduce Mister Goldwrite to you. Or maybe I should let him do that.”

  However he did it, he avoided speaking in their language, and only in his own.

  “Hello. I’m Kenaeth Adam Goldwrite.”

  Angelic would continue to interpret for him, even thought he knew exactly what she was saying.

  “I know you may be worried, but she’ll be in good hands. There are many people she can depend on here. And I’m harmless . . . well . . . mostly harmless.”

  Angelica’s mother smiled. “Then I leave her in your hands. I will be in touch.”

  “Bye, mom.”

  “Bye, dear child of mine.”

  The image disappeared.

  “Older sister?” Angelica mused. “Ken, you’re such a schmi . . . schme . . . What is the word?”

  “Schmooze,” Amelta answered. “And I have to agree.”

  * * *

  Alisa was second. In the same way as Angelica’s call, Amelta dialed her home.

  A male voice answered, and Alisa started speaking flatly. A moment later, the projection appeared. Ken quickly calculated again to understand them.

  There were three people on the screen: a mature man, a mature woman, and a young man.

  “Hello, mom, dad, Avey.”

  Ken was taken aback with the flat tone. The young man seemed more animated than her.

  The man spoke up. “Hi, Alisa. How are you feeling? Everything okay?”

  “Oh, fine. Wanting to let you know how things are going. Before I continue, this is my landlord, Kenaeth Goldwrite.” She switched to English. “Ken, please introduce yourself.”

  About the only thing he could think of to say was the same he had told Angelica’s mother.

  “I know you may be worried, but she’ll be in good hands. There are many people she can depend on here. And I’m harmless. Well, mostly harmless.”

  Ken smiled, but it was a half-hearted smile. He suddenly didn’t feel right for some reason. It felt a lot like irritation.

  The rest of Alisa’s conversations were about her college classes, some electrical frameworks, and asking them to send her a ‘hydro-spanner,’ whatever that was. There was even a side conversation about the spatial enhancer to increase the size of her room . . . and Ken’s reaction. That caused the young man, Avey, to roll on the floor with laughter. So much for being ‘quieter’ than she was.

  Ken played dumb and she didn’t explain. He would have to interrogate her thoroughly when he had the opportunity.

  And before he knew it, she was done.

  * * *

  Natalia was third. She seemed apprehensive about it, but Ken didn’t know if it was because of the phone call, or just sitting next to him. If it was the latter, the feeling was mutual.

  The screen immediately came on. A stern man with chiseled features was sitting behind a desk. “I’ve been expecting your call,” he said. “I am thankful that Amelta contacted me ahead of time so I could schedule this between meetings.”

  “Hello, father,” Natalia said.

  They were speaking English, surprisingly.

  “And how are you adjusting?” he asked his daughter.

  “It’s far more rustic than I had expected. It’s almost as if I’m roughing it. However, the atmosphere is pleasant.”

  “Have you attended any of the social committees yet?”

  “Just two so far. I do have some contact information. They’ll be providing more details about their companies and channels soon, so I’ll forward it all to you then.”

  “Excellent. Keep me informed. I’m counting on you to create more contacts for me.”

  “That was part of the plan.”

  “And you haven’t introduced your landlord yet.”

  Natalia gestured to Ken, then to her father. He took that as his cue.

  “My name is Kenaeth Goldwrite. Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “You seem like a responsible man, so I will entrust the care of my daughter to you. She does have an abrasive personality at times, so I would ask for your patience.”

  “I will try. But I must say I am surprised you are speaking English.”

  “I have a hobby, if you can call it that, of learning back-water languages. It will also help in distribution agreements.”

  Ken nodded in acknowledgment. He was perturbed about the ‘back-water’ comment, regardless of how Earth seemed on their end.

  “If you need anything, please direct it to my secretary. She will get in touch with me and I will try to address the issue. Natalia, best of luck.”

  “Thank you, father,” she replied.

  The screen disappeared, and Ken could feel her relax. Her father appeared to be very businesslike and professional . . . even to his own daughter. He didn’t think there was any difference in her father’s speech to either of them, acting like they were both strangers.

  She got up without another word, and went down the stairs to her room.

  * * *

  Cassandra was next. She took up the position next to Ken, and Amelta dialed.

  A male voice was heard, and Cassandra started speaking. Ken calculated and was able to understand them.

  “Just a moment, Cassandra,” the man said.

  The screen appeared, and on a couch were sitting a slim man dressed in pants and a button-up shirt, and a woman dressed in slacks and a blouse, who Ken thought was absolutely stunning.

  “Hi, mom, dad. I’m still alive.”

  “Yes, we can see that,” her mother said. “I take it this is the landlord where you’re living?”

  “Yes. I’ll let him introduce himself.” She switched back to English. “Go head. Introduce yourself.”

  “Hello. My name is Kenaeth Goldwrite. I know you may be worried, but rest assured she is in good hands, and has many people she can count on here.”

  “Thank you, Mister Goldwrite.” She paused for a moment, and then went on. “Say, Cassandra.”

  “Yes, mom?”

  “Is he married?”

  “Mother!”

  “He seems respectable enough. Maybe you should ask him out. After all, your father and I—”

  Cassandra’s father coughed, and her mother stopped. Still looking forward, he said “Don’t embarrass my daughter in front of her landlord, even if he can’t understand.”

  If he only knew how mistaken he was. Ken was listening to every word.

  “Yes, dear,” her mother said, defeated.

  They conversed for a few minutes about food, living quarters, and the college classes she was attending.

  They said their goodbyes, and the screen disappeared.

  Ken played dumb. “Hey, Cassandra.”

  “Yes?”

  “What was that outburst about?”

  “Oh, um . . . nothing.”

  He prodded again. “It sounded really, I don’t know, embarrassing.”

  “Nothing!”
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  “But—”

  “NOTHING!” she yelled back at him and stormed off to her room.

  Thinking back on it, Ken regretted antagonizing the woman who had a bladed weapon and knew how to use it.

  * * *

  Next to last was Sasha. She was worried about calling her parents, especially with the turn of events in the last few days. Ken assured her it would work out, and if there was an issue, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

  They dialed in, and a female voice answered. Sasha started speaking, and Ken prepared himself to ‘listen in.’

  “Hi, mom. How are you?”

  “My dear, Sasha! How are you adjusting?”

  A mature woman was shown on the projection.

  “Is dad there, too?”

  “He had some work to do at the office. He’ll be disappointed that he missed your call. Who is the man sitting next to you?”

  “This is my landlord, Kenaeth Goldwrite.”

  The woman’s face narrowed with concern. “I thought you were staying at the residence of a woman?”

  Sasha paused. She remembered that Ken had told her to say there was a last minute change if that kind of question came up.

  “There was a . . . last minute change. There was an issue, so I moved here.”

  “Are you the only tenant there?”

  “No, no. There are five other women.”

  “My goodness!”

  “But they all seem nice.”

  “That’s good.”

  They talked for a little while about the family, and the neighbors.

  “I miss you and dad.”

  “We miss you, too, honey. And, Mister Goldwrite?”

  Sasha translated for him.

  “Um, yes?”

  “Please do your best to take care of our little girl. She’s a bit fragile, and we worry an awful lot about her.”

  Ken mentally noted that she was right to have worried about her daughter. If she knew the truth, it wouldn’t have been comfortable to see.

  “I will do my best. She has a number of people she can count on. She’s a good girl.”

  “Thank you, Mister Goldwrite.”

  “Bye, mom.”

  “Bye, Sasha.”

  The screen disappeared, and Sasha sighed.

  “I . . . don’t really like having lied to my mom.”

  “It wasn’t a lie, actually. There was a last minute change, and there was an issue. Don’t worry. I understand where you’re coming from, but let’s look at it another way. How would she have reacted if we gave her the whole story?”

  Sasha looked down. “Not well.”

  “You can give them the whole story eventually. Right now, it’s not the best thing for them. You’re safe, and I think that is what they needed to hear more than anything else.”

  * * *

  Last up was Katrina. While the rest of the tenants coincidentally had planets with a daytime pattern roughly equal to Earth’s, Betlin’s day would be the equivalent of the middle of the night on Earth. Midnight, to be exact. Their only choice was to stay up late to place the call through. Katrina was excited – even more than usual – to talk to her parents.

  It was far past both their bed times, so Ken made some coffee to keep awake. He would definitely be regretting it in the morning.

  Everyone else was asleep. Ken entered the numbers as Amelta had instructed him, and soon a female voice came on.

  Katrina started talking fast, and the projection appeared. She continued to talk fast, and the woman who looked like an older Katrina was replying just as fast. It sounded like two animated chipmunks talking. Then he remembered about the calculation, and did so to understand them.

  As soon as he did, the conversation came to a dead stop.

  Katrina was staring at him, matching the stare from her mother on the screen.

  Uh-oh.

  Katrina blinked a few times. “Ken, you can manipulate space-time?”

  “Mister Goldwrite,” her mother stated, not asking.

  “Um . . . yes?”

  Katrina blinked several more times. “Ken? You can speak Betlinese?”

  Katrina’s mother chuckled. “Not entirely, Katrina. You see, he just calculated the ability to understand and speak Beltinese.”

  Katrina tilted her head. “Really, Ken? You never told me you were a time manipulator.”

  “No, but I was taught a few tricks recently.”

  Her mother smiled. “To think Katrina would run into a manipulator there,” her mother remarked.

  Ken shook his head. “I’m not a manipulator. I can barely float.”

  It was Katrina’s mother’s turn to shake her head. “If you can calculate space-time, you’re a manipulator.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And speaking of which, have you told anyone else you can do that?”

  “You mean about being able to do things with space-time?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. I guess the only ones right now who know are you, Katrina and Silver.”

  “Who’s Silver?”

  “The man who taught me these tricks.”

  “Is he an Indexer? A Cataloguer?”

  “I think he said he was a Coordinator.”

  “Hmmm. Be careful, okay, Mister Goldwrite? I guess if you’re a manipulator, I guess I can let you in on some information.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know if she may have let it slip, but Katrina is a Cataloguer just like me. However, her goal is not to ‘measure time’ on your planet, but rather to track chronological phenomena there.”

  “Chronological . . . what?”

  “Problems in space-time. There have been reports of space-time activity on Earth for some time, but it was only recently that it was thought to be an issue. We needed some more data, and so sent Katrina.”

  “Are we in any danger?”

  “It’s unknown right now. But be on your guard. Mister Goldwrite, I’d be careful of that ‘Silver’ person. I don’t believe I’ve heard of any other manipulators being sent there, at least from our organization. He may be from a different group.”

  And that made Ken think. Who was Silver? What did he want? What were the specifics of why he was there? Ken didn’t have a reason not to trust Katrina’s mother, and Silver hadn’t given Ken much reason to trust him; just some vague details.

  “Understood.”

  The conversation between Katrina and her mother went into family items. When it was time to end the call, Katrina and her mother said their goodbyes.

  * * *

  Ken hadn’t been able to sleep so he had whatever coffee was left. Granted, if one wanted to get to sleep, imbibing caffeine wouldn’t help matters. He was sitting in the living room, reflecting on the calls his tenants made to their families. Katrina had gone to sleep right after her call was finished.

  They all seemed to have healthy families, and being away from them was definitely hard on everyone, not just the girls.

  The relationship between Natalia and her father bugged him. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk with him, and their words to each other seemed overly formal. Ken thought that most people who were rich had it easy, and nothing would get them down. Shouldn’t they be the happiest people in the world, or rather, the universe? That didn’t seem to be the case with the both of them.

  Ken started to feel that mysterious irritation resurface, and shook his head to think of something else, but came back to the calls.

  Katrina’s mother was a time manipulator, and apparently a good one. She knew what Ken had done, even through the phone, and gave him a frightening piece of advice: to be careful of Silver. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t careful already, but her mother’s words didn’t ease his concerns. She knew what Silver was, and there weren’t any other manipulators on the planet that she knew about. It begged the question: what were Silve
r’s motives? He was intent on teaching Ken manipulation, to ‘protect them,’ but that was about as far as he went. The questions kept piling up each day – not just about Silver, but about his tenants as well.

  Ken bit his bottom lip. The irritation was coming back. He took a sip of coffee when he heard someone call out to him.

  “Ken?”

  He looked up and saw Katrina float down from the top of the cabinet.

  “You should be asleep,” he said.

  “I might tell you the same,” she said, landing on the coffee table. She walked to the edge closest to him, and sat down, dangling her legs over the side. She looked like she had something to say, but was having a hard time getting the words out.

  “Something wrong?” Ken asked her.

  “A little. I just wanted to say, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? What for? You didn’t to anything, did you?”

  “Maybe we all did, indirectly. You may not have noticed it during the calls, but I did. I may be small and not very bright, but Cataloguers are supposed to notice little things.”

  “Like the doll in Matilda’s shop?”

  “Yeah. But, this has to do with you. You see . . . how do I explain it without sounding mean?”

  “Katrina, I developed a thick skin over the years. If you need to explain it, go ahead.”

  “Okay. I feel sorry about everyone talking to their families. You seemed to get . . . agitated whenever they were talking. No one else may have noticed, but I did. So, I’m sorry.”

  Thanks to Katrina, Ken was finally able to pin down the cause of the irritation. It wasn’t his tenant’s fault, but it was the talk of families.

  It must have been jealousy.

  They had surviving parents, as well as good relationships with them. In other words, the complete opposite of Ken. He sighed, embarrassed by the fact he had let that much of him show through.

  “It’s okay Katrina. Some things you just have to deal with.” He extended his hand and patted her on the head with his index finger. “You’re a real nice girl.”

  She meowed in response.

  * * *

  Early the next day – Saturday – Cassandra and Alisa went to the local shopping mall to meet Jill, Guy and Nellie.

  The theater wasn’t as different as Cassandra had been to on her own planet. The main difference was the food called ‘popcorn.’ Alisa didn’t seem to care for it much, but Cassandra bought a whole bucket for herself after she took a taste of Nellie’s.