Orson Card - Maps in a Mirror - The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card

We were leaned over on the left side, so her door was mashed against the ground. I says to her, “We got to climb out my door.” I had brains enough to hook one arm up over the lip of the car before I unbuckled my seat belt, and then I hoisted myself out and stayed perched up there on the side of the car, up in the air, so I could reach down and help her out.

Only she wasn’t climbing out. I yelled at her and she didn’t answer. I thought for a second she was dead, but then I saw that her sparks was still there. Funny, how I never saw she had any sparkiness before, because I didn’t know to look for it, but now, even though it was dim, I could see it. Only it wasn’t so dim, it was real busy, like she was trying to heal herself. The gurgling was still going on, and everything smelled like gasoline. There was still shooting going on. And even if nobody came down to start us on fire on purpose, I saw enough car crashes at the movies to know you didn’t need a match to start a car on fire. I sure didn’t want to be near the car if it caught, and I sure didn’t want her in it. But I couldn’t see how to climb down in and pull her out. I mean I’m not a weakling but I’m not Mr. Universe either.

It felt like I sat there for a whole minute before I realized I didn’t have to pull her out my side of the car, I could pull her out the front cause the whole windshield was missing and the roof was only mashed down a little, cause there was a rollbar in the car—that was real smart, putting a rollbar in. I jumped off the car. It wasn’t raining right here, but it had rained, so it was slippery and wet. Or maybe it was slippery from the gasoline, I don’t know. I got around the front of the car and up to the windshield, and I scraped the bits of glass off with my shoe. Then I crawled partway in and reached under her and undid her seat belt, and tried to pull her out, but her legs was hung up under the steering wheel and it took forever, it was terrible, and all the time I kept listening for her to breathe, and she didn’t breathe, and so I kept getting more scared and frustrated and all I was thinking about was how she had to live, she couldn’t be dead, she just got through saving my life and now she was dead and she couldn’t be and I was going to get her out of the car even if I had to break her legs to do it, only I didn’t have to break her legs and she finally slid out and I dragged her away from the car. It didn’t catch on fire, but I couldn’t know it wasn’t going to.

And anyway all I cared about then was her, not breathing, lying there limp on the grass with her neck all floppy and I was holding on to her crying and angry and scared and I had us both covered with sparks, like we was the same person, just completely covered, and I was crying and saying, Live! I couldn’t even call her by name or nothing because I didn’t know her name. I just know that I was shaking like I had the chills and so was she and she was breathing now and whimpering like somebody just stepped on a puppy and the sparks just kept flowing around us both and I felt like somebody sucked everything out of me, like I was a wet towel and somebody wrung me out and flipped me into a corner, and then I don’t remember until I woke up here.

What did it feel like? What you did to her?

It felt like when I covered her with light, it was like I was taking over doing what her own body should’ve done, it was like I was healing her. Maybe I got that idea because she said something about healing when she was driving the car, but she wasn’t breathing when I dragged her out, and then she was breathing. So I want to know if I healed her. Because if she got healed when I covered her with my own light, then maybe I didn’t kill my daddy either, because it was kind of like that, I think it was kind of like that, what happened when I dragged him out of the house.

I been talking a long time now, and you still told me nothing. Even if you think I’m just a killer and you want me dead, you can tell me about her. Is she alive?

Yes.

Well then how come I can’t see her? How come she isn’t here with the rest of you?

She had some surgery. It takes time to heal.

But did I help her? Or did I twist her? You got to tell me. Cause if I didn’t help her then I hope I fail your test and you kill me cause I can’t think of a good reason why I should be alive if all I can do is kill people.

You helped her, Mick. That last bullet caught her in the head. That’s why she crashed.

But she wasn’t bleeding!

It was dark, Mick. You couldn’t see. You had her blood all over you. But it doesn’t matter now. We have the bullet out. As far as we can tell, there was no brain damage. There should have been. She should have been dead.

So I did help her.

Yes. But we don’t know how. All kinds of stories, you know, about faith healing, that sort of thing. Laying on of hands. Maybe it’s the kind of thing you did, merging the bio-magnetic field. A lot of things don’t make any sense yet. There’s no way we can see that the tiny amount of electricity in a human bio-electric system could influence somebody a hundred miles off, but they summoned you, and you came. We need to study you, Mick. We’ve never had anybody as powerful as you. Tell the truth, maybe there’s never been anybody like you. Or maybe all the healings in the New Testament—

I don’t want to hear about no testaments. Papa Lem gave me about all the testaments I ever need to hear about.

Will you help us, Mick?

Help you how?

Let us study you.

Go ahead and study.

Maybe it won’t be enough just to study how you heal people.

I’m not going to kill nobody for you. If you try to make me kill somebody I’ll kill you first till you have to kill me just to save your own lives, do you understand me?

Calm down, Mick. Don’t get angry. There’s plenty of time to think about things. Actually we’re glad that you don’t want to kill anybody. If you enjoyed it, or even if you hadn’t been able to control it and kept on indiscriminately killing anyone who enraged you, you wouldn’t have lived to be seventeen. Because yes, we’re scientists, or at least we’re finally learning enough that we can start being scientists. But first we’re human beings, and we’re in the middle of a war, and children like you are the weapons. If they ever got someone like you to stay with them, work with them, you could seek us out and destroy us. That’s what they wanted you to do.

That’s right, that’s one thing Papa Lem said, I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but he said that the children of Israel were supposed to kill every man, woman, and child in Canaan, cause idolaters had to make way for the children of God.

Well, you see, that’s why our branch of the family left. We didn’t think it was such a terrific idea, wiping out the entire human race and replacing it with a bunch of murderous, incestuous religious fanatics. For the last twenty years, we’ve been able to keep them from getting somebody like you, because we’ve murdered the children that were so powerful they had to put them outside to be reared by others.

Except me.

It’s a war. We didn’t like killing children. But it’s like bombing the place where your enemies are building a secret weapon. The lives of a few children—no, that’s a lie. It nearly split us apart ourselves, the arguments over that. Letting you live—it was a terrible risk. I voted against it every time. And I don’t apologize for that, Mick. Now that you know what they are, and you chose to leave, I’m glad I lost. But so many things could have gone wrong.