The Golden Circuit (The Smith Chronicles) by John K. Irvine Page B

through the system. I’d hoped that we could at least talk about it.”
    Makita exploded. “That is the single most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!”
    Hanoi was incensed. “Well, what are you going to do Mikita?” he said, aggressively. “Hang around with your PASIV friends, protesting all day long? Is that what you think? I mean, do you plan on contributing anything to Muhazian society? To this great, new city of ours? All you do is sponge off the state and flounce around ridiculing everything? Well? Answer me?”
    Mikita’s eyes went dark. “At least I won’t be sneaking around other people’s apartments and reading their private thoughts on their Serenes?” she countered. “You know, Polo was right. What are you up to, Hanoi Jones?”
    “Up to? Polo thinks I’m ‘up to’ something, does she?” he said, furiously.
    “Yes! She does! And so do I!”
    Suddenly, Hanoi raised his hand as if to strike her.
    Mikita reeled. “Ooooh. Ooooh. Who’s a big man, then? Who’s a big, strong man? Go on, hit me. Hit me, Hanoi. Hard as you like. I won’t feel a thing. Not a draining thing. Because I’ve had so much pain in my life a little bit more won’t make the blindest bit of difference!”
    Hanoi’s face became twisted in anger…
    “Go on! Do it!” Mikita taunted.
    It burned with hate…
    “Do it, Hanoi!” Mikita squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the blow to land.
    …
    But nothing came.
    …
    She opened her eyes again, slowly, one at a time.
    Hanoi had lowered his arm. His face was full of remorse.
    “Mikita, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t going to hit… I … I love you, Mikita.”
    “No. No, Hanoi. You don’t love me,” she said, backing away.
    He moved towards her, his arms outstretched. “Yes, Mikita. Yes, I do. I do love you.” He came closer. His eyes troubled and distraught.
    Suddenly, Mikita began to sense the beginnings of the energy within her ; that painful shock of power and light that seemed to come when she least expected it.
    Hanoi grabbed her arms and tried to bring her close to him, tried to hug her, to kiss her, as if he was seeking some sort of desperate absolution. He pawed at her, like he wanted to possess her.
    Mikita could feel the fire inside increasing, that awful flame gaining in its ability. “No, Hanoi Stop it, Hanoi, stop! Keep away from me!”
    Still he came at her, his neck straining to reach her face, his lips aggressively pursed.
    Mikita felt the overwhelming, aurulent strength surge along the length of her spine and up the back of her neck, sending a hot jet of potency out to her extremities. It filled her with an unbelievable force that she fe lt powerless to control. She thrashed out, blindly, but somehow landing a thunderous blow to Hanoi’s chest.
    It sent him flying across the room.
    Hanoi crashed into a large mirror on the wall, his neck whipping back with the horrific sound of tendons snapping and bones breaking - then fell to the floor with a heavy thud as shards of reflective glass dropped down on top of his now motionless body.
    Mikita looked down at her hands.
    Then reality kicked in - like it always did in Mikita’s life.
    No… No… NO!
    She ran over to Hanoi and knelt down beside him. There was blood, everywhere. So much of it, everywhere. She began to sob. “Hanoi? Hanoi, wake up. Wake up, you fool! Don’t just lie there! You said you loved me! If you really loved me, you’d draining well wake up!”
    She crumpled, racked with guilt, as tears began to stream down her face.
    She felt sick. Sick to her stomach.
    She threw up onto the floor beside her.
    Ugh, what is happening to me!
    Her mind began to flood with panic, her thoughts jumping from one thing to the other:
    Oh fire, I was so angry. I’ve never been that angry before…
    And now I’ve killed someone! I’ve actually killed another human being! With my bare hands!
    No. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it. I only meant to push him away.
    I’ll