1970 Bronx, New York

United States of America

Ricardo woke up for work at 6 a.m. like every other day. This morning was different. This morning he was exhausted from a night that was filled with memories that had been attempting to work their way into the conscious recall of the man. Ricardo went to sleep a man of thirty-nine years and he awoke the learned master Ye’randid Exoplanetary Journey Veteran Twelfth Generation, now fractured and merely a piece of the master that they once were.

Ye’randid was in the second pod on the journey from homeworld to the Terran intrinsic field pool. He has been reincarnated on this planet four times now, at least for this fracture. From what Ricardo can tell, this planet is something on the verge of supporting intelligent life, but falling short of the mark. The dominant form of life on this planet is a mutated ape that has learned enough to be dangerous, but not enough to be careful with that knowledge.

Ricardo, suddenly reborn into this bestial form, is taking full advantage of this body's mixed blood nature. No human body that he had inhabited before had the telepathic range that this vessel did. He had enough experience to utilize all the abilities that this body has the necessarily developed neurological system to use.

Ricardo walked from his home with a confidence that he had not experienced in this life prior to full recall. The door closed behind him with a forceful thud as Ricardo smiled widely.

He walked on the sidewalk of his street, Lydig Ave, and listened to the bustle of traffic. His silver and gold crowned smile took ear to ear as he walked into the street like he was about to hail a cab, but instead his eyes locked on a man in a Bandit clone Pontiac Trans Am. The man stopped before Ricardo and put the car in park. He stepped out of the vehicle and walked up to Ricardo with a matching smile and eyes wide with confusion. The other people in traffic pulled to the side of the road, crowding the curb and scraping into one another’s cars as they parted the sea of traffic before the Pontiac.

Ricardo walked around to the drivers side of the car. He slipped into the bucket seat and took in the scent of leather with a deep breath. He had been deprived of the better things in life for too long and today was his day.

He put the car into drive and began speeding down the road, all traffic through his route cleared in seconds by the people that were somehow keeping everything from moving moments ago.

An hour later sirens were blaring as Ricardo was in a high speed chase on Pelham Parkway gunning it toward New Jersey.

Ricardo felt the wind blowing across his face as he gripped a cigarette in his teeth. The police closed in and then swerved off as they got too close to the Trans Am. None of them understood why, but they knew to keep their distance. Ricardo smiled and thought “Everyone is going to know to keep their distance.”

His wide smile took to his ears as he heard another helicopter just over him, the beat of the blades loudly informing him they were close above his car.

“They haven’t learned yet, now, have they!” He screamed over the radio blasting, suddenly the cool calm keyboard of Three Dog Night played over the radio.

♫Will you have whiskey with your water?♫

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Ricardo cackled and pulled the cigarette from his teeth declaring in a shout, “Yes I would!”

He let go of the wheel to pop his head and chest from the window on the passenger side of the car. Looking up at the helicopter he started shouting with the song.

“What are these crazy questions that they're asking of me?!” He shouted at the helicopter above.

A bullhorn squawked above as a voice commanded him, “Pull the vehicle over!”

“This is the craziest party that there ever could be!” Ricardo screamed back laughing as he climbed out onto the roof of the car.

“Oh, don't turn on the light cause I don't want to see!” the bullhorn erupted. Suddenly, everyone in the cabin started screaming, everyone but the pilot singing over the speaker.

Ricardo stood on the roof and mimed a gun at the aircraft.

“Mama told me not to come!” The voice on the horn declared above the screaming passengers as the helicopter started diving toward the Bronx River.

The chorus started a second time with Ricardo laughing maniacally while the helicopter crashed into the river. All of the police cars following stopped without his instruction. They finally just got it. They were outmatched.

He smiled as he sat cross-legged on the roof of his passengerless car speeding down the Bronx River Parkway giving them all two one fingered salutes.

“Stay outta my way, monkey men!” Ricardo screamed as his Trans Am carried him off to Jersey. There was a score to settle there. The car’s gas pedal pressing down and the car rumbling like a beast growling for prey. Ricardo sitting on the roof and the car steering itself down the freeway.

Hours later, Ricardo walked from a bar, where a notorious Russian mobster kept a backroom card game. A game that often took advantage of people new to the scene and took them for everything they are worth.

Ricardo had been taken advantage of there. They used a woman to play on his ego and make him feel alive, really alive for the first time in his life. She had kept him at the table until they had everything he had inherited from his mother’s passing. It was five-thousand dollars and it was enough to have made real changes in his life.

He looked down at the bloody tracks his trainers were leaving on the ground outside. There were people staring at him on the street. They likely heard everything that had been going on for the last hour. The gunfire and screaming was obviously going to draw attention. Some of the bills came free on the wind from the brown bag overflowing with money that was tucked under his right arm. He was now in an impressive suit, something that a pimp would wear: flashy with a lot of style to it. The rings on his fingers and the chains on his neck sparkled in the light of the day.

Ricardo spoke up.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what you see here is but an illusion. You’ve nothing to fear everything you heard but a moment ago were sounds of a television with the volume turned up to a maximum level. You’ve nothing to be concerned with, all is well.” He said in his very best carnival barker voice.

The people, as if by magic, turned away as one and went back about their business. There were two policemen there and they too turned around like all the others to return to their cars. The police simply drove away with a chuckle about being sent out on a loud television call.

Inside there is a grisly scene that looks as if it were a snapshot from an abattoir. Blood and urine collected in puddles all throughout the main room. Bodies slumped over, fingers and appendages lying neatly in piles before a woman that was mumbling incoherently to herself.

“The little ape fancied herself a predator,” Ricardo said aloud to a man walking by.

“She fancied herself a predator,” the man repeated confidently as he stopped before Ricardo.

“She needed to pay,” Ricardo said emotionless.

“She needed to pay,” the man repeated in a more aggressive tone.

“They all needed to pay,” Ricardo said while taking a handful of the money from his bag and shoving it into the other man’s hands.

The man put the bills mechanically into his pockets and repeated the phrase, tears of rage surfacing in his eyes.

Ricardo looked the man in the eyes and smiled wide. “They got what they deserved. You shouldn’t steal from people.” The man under his control returned the wicked smile.

“They got what they deserved,” he agreed. As Ricardo walked around him and back to his Trans Am, the random man on the street, caught in his wake, walked into the bar and took a seat to have a drink and wait to be arrested.

Ricardo put the bag of money in the car and started off, toward California.

He thought to himself.

“I haven’t had this much fun since Whitechapel.”