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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Obsessed with good luck charms after coming under fire in Vietnam, a Marine, Ken Montin, travels on R-n-R to Hong Kong in search of the ultimate talisman. He finds it, and a specific admonition for its use from a Chinese wizard. With help from the talisman, Montin safely completes his tour of duty, but returns home a changed man. Forgetting the wizard's warning, he misuses his talisman with dire consequences.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: F&SF, 1990
Fictionwise Release Date: May 2002

35 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [84 KB], eReader (PDB) [34 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [21 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [20 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [71 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [93 KB], hiebook (KML) [77 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [51 KB], iSilo (PDB) [18 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [22 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [50 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [33 KB]
Words: 6285
Reading time: 17-25 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"His words bristle with a muscular intensity that strengthens any book or magazine lucky to contain him."--Scott Edelman, award-winning editor of Science Fiction Weekly

Weak rays of light from the pale sun reach out across the rocky steppe, eventually touching a dark cave mouth high on an escarpment. At the foot of the cliff in the icy shadows cast by a pair of huge boulders, the air shimmers and begins to glow.... As the glow fades, figures gradually materialize: six men dressed in flimsy black pajama-like garb and thongs, their rifles slung and shouldered. Gasping plumes of steam in the air, the men shiver and clutch themselves tightly, huddling together for warmth, the expressions on their faces a mix of fear and confusion. They look about in silence, weapons forgotten. A sound of heavy wingbeats draws their gazes up the cliff face to a ledge--

All six scramble to unsling their rifles, but it is too late. The last thing they see is a holocaust of blinding light....

Bouncing around on the hard bench, Ken Montin glimpsed the lights of Danang flash by from the back of the six-by, the night trapping heat, dissonant sound, and an overwhelming smell of diesel fumes, as the truck wound through evening traffic into the downtown area, finally braking in front of the Coney Island Bar. "Ya'll got two hours," the driver advised the Marines in the back of the six-by. "Any joker not back here by eight, misses his Hong Kong flight ... understand?"

"O.K., Sarge," someone yelled back as the five Marines scrambled over the tailgate, dropped to the street, and brushed dust from their pressed trops.

The five were immediately assaulted by a wave of girl-women also dressed in uniform--low-cut blouses, miniskirts, and high heels. The couples headed into the Coney Island or one of the other nearby G.I. bars.

But Montin hung back until the others disappeared from sight, then he eased himself over the tailgate and dropped to the ground. He turned away from the blinking neon lights, and, despite the oppressive mugginess and crowded street, he decided to wander with his duffel bag in hand, try to walk out the sense of unease that bugged him. Jesus, he thought, dodging a gook shouting at him from a bicycle. You're s'posed to relax on R and R. But he'd been uptight since leaving base camp, feeling funny, naked without his flak jacket decorated with his good-luck charms and amulets. That was it, of course. He stopped and bought a pack of gum from a skinny little kid with kinky hair--one of the half breeds. Placing the gum in his pocket, he touched the little plastic vial and sighed deeply. Inside the vial was a rolled-up scroll printed in Sanscrit. A Navy corpsman had sold it to him as a copy of the Tibetan Buddhist prayer chant: OM MANI PADME HUM. Heavy Shit! So he wasn't completely naked. No sir.