Kylie Chan: The Gravity Engine

Michael waited quietly on the bench in the gardens of the medical facility. The garden was paved with red stones, and raised planter boxes held fragrant flowering shrubs. He looked at his watch; nearly time. He picked up the paperback next to him and pretended to read it, surreptitiously checking the path every thirty seconds. It was a few minutes before he realised he was holding the book upside down and he quickly righted it.

He checked his watch again; she was late. Michael stayed very still and tried to avoid fidgeting as he pretended to read the book.

He heard them talking before he saw them and sagged with relief. Clarissa’s carer was pushing the wheelchair and Clarissa was a small, curled-up shape lost in the chair holding her. She stopped talking as they came into view and didn’t meet his gaze. He turned back to the book, wishing that he could watch her with his Inner Eye, but she was an ordinary human and his Inner Eye could easily kill her.

He peeked at her over the top of the book and disappointment flooded through him again. Since she’d had the kidney transplant he’d hoped she’d regain some of her old strength, but she appeared as fragile and transparent as she always had: a shrunken, delicate, spun-glass figurine, twisted and deformed from the torture she’d suffered. Her hands were still rigid claws and her eyes were sunken and hollow, with the wide, unfocussed stare of those who’d been truly broken by the horrors they’d experienced.

For a moment he saw her face against the light, and he was thrown back to a vision of the woman he’d known and loved: strong, clever, vibrant and full of life. She’d suffered no idiocy from him and been a formidable partner and challenging lover. She’d been his whole world, full of courage and intensity, and had reacted with pragmatic curiosity when she’d found out about his father, the Tiger God of the West, and the complex nature of his Celestial family ties. Instead of being frightened she was curious and intrigued, asking him to show her his abilities and revelling in the feeling of going flying with him. She’d loved being engaged to a ‘superhero’ and had adored his tiger form. He promised to always protect her from the demon menace, and she trusted him completely.

The demons had taken her and performed vile experiments on her to create a clone that had completely fooled him for weeks – until it exploded. The Dark Lord of the Northern Heavens told him that the original was probably dead, breaking Michael’s heart. Then the Dark Lord had infiltrated a demon nest and been shocked to find the real Clarissa a prisoner in the labs, patiently waiting for Michael find and rescue her. She came back a ravaged husk, nearly blind and unable to walk. Everything that had happened to her had been because she’d known Michael and he hadn’t protected her at all.

The carer wheeled Clarissa out of sight through the garden and he leaned back on the bench and wiped his eyes, the novel forgotten.

Clarissa’s psychologist appeared out of nowhere and sat next to him. ‘What do you see when you look at her?’

‘I see the good times we had together before all this happened. And a million regrets that I believed the Dark Lord when he said she was dead. I would have tried to find her – it never occurred to me that someone as powerful as him could ever be wrong.’

‘You’re still blaming the Dark Lord?’

‘No, of course not.’ Michael leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘I blame the Demon King. And myself, for not protecting her enough. He had her and my mother both—’ His voice cracked. ‘Both of them. My mother is dead and Clarissa is broken. The Demon King has a massive debt to me and I will ensure that it is paid.’

‘And what about Clarissa?’

Michael studied his hands. ‘I’m willing to wait for her as long as it takes.’ He looked up at where she’d been. ‘It tears my heart out to see her like this, but at least I can see her, and that’s enough for me right now.’

The psychologist was silent for a moment, then said, ‘She wants you to stop stalking her.’

‘Okay, I’ll stop,’ Michael said.

‘She knows when you’re sitting there invisible. She knew when you did it before.’

‘How?’

‘She can smell you.’

Michael was horrified. ‘What?’ He sniffed himself; no serious BO – what the hell?

‘You wear too much of that aromatic deodorant you young men tend to favour. It’s all over you.’ The psychologist leaned back and put her arms on the back of the bench. ‘Despite the advertising, it’s not attractive at all. Most women find it unpleasantly cheap and strong.’

‘Then it’s appropriate for me,’ Michael said with a wry grin.

‘No, it isn’t. You may be strong, but your value is limitless. Youngest Worthy ever granted Immortality. Number One Son of the Emperor of the West. Running the West, and barely thirty years old. It won’t be long before there’s statues of you in the temples on the Earthly Plane, young man.’

‘I wonder how they’ll depict my half-European features.’

‘Probably as unflatteringly as they depict your father’s tiger ones.’

‘Yeah.’ He looked up at where Clarissa had been. ‘I’ll stop coming. But can you pass on a message for me?’

‘She already knows that you’ll wait for as long as it takes.’

‘Any idea when she’ll improve to a state where she’ll actually be able to talk to me? I miss her so much…’

‘You miss her and you want something with her. What if what you want isn’t the best for her ?’

‘Tell me and I’ll stay away for good. Say the words and I’ll be gone.’

‘What if she needs someone to support her without having any sort of relationship otherwise? Just to care for her?’

Michael lit up with a ray of hope. ‘She’d let me look after her?’

‘No sexual relationship, no kissing, no love, just to care for her. Could you do that?’

Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing, just being with her would be a dream come true. He didn’t need the rest. ‘I could do that? She’d let me?’

The psychologist studied him for a long time, then said, ‘Stop coming here and throw yourself into your work for fifteen days. In two weeks and one day, come back here and do this again. I can’t guarantee anything, but it may be different.’

Michael straightened. ‘She might talk to me?’

‘Give her two weeks of not seeing you here when she goes past, and her attitude when you return may be different.’ The psychologist raised her hand when she saw his face. ‘I’m really not promising you anything. When she sees you, she may ask for you to go away again. But having you here waiting for her every day at the same time has not just been an annoying distraction for her, it’s been reassuring as well. Let’s see how she feels when that reassurance is gone.’

Michael looked away and nodded. ‘All right.’ He turned back to the psychologist. ‘Thank you. You’ve given me hope.’

‘I hope I haven’t done you a disservice; there’s a good chance when you’re back she’ll tell you to go away again.’

‘Should I stay away altogether? Would that be the best for her? All you have to do is say the words—’

‘No,’ the psychologist said firmly. ‘I like to think that one day she’ll heal enough to lead something approaching a normal life, and that includes a healthy relationship with you. The fact that you’re prepared to wait means that you are the best one for her. So go away for fifteen days, and I’ll be watching when you return.’

‘Doctor.’ He saluted her Western-style and disappeared to, as she said, throw himself into his work. There was plenty waiting for him.