Time on My Hands
Chapter 66: 452-456 CE: Operation Harmony Begins

In the spring of 452, Raben steeled himself as he headed north to Zarbam. He received a raven mail message from Ollie, who at 83, was dying. Ollie wanted to say goodbye to his mentor and for Raben to officiate at his funeral and burial. Raben knew he couldn’t refuse. He thought back to 415 and what he assumed would be a difficult conversation with Ollie. The planning for Operation Harmony had just begun. A crucial part of that planning was the ending of hereditary leaders for trained under 40 leaders with firm time limits to their positions. The hereditary leadership at Zarbam would need to end with Ollie’s time as head. When Raben arrived to have the difficult discussion with Ollie, he was surprised by Ollie.

That there was a total look of disbelief on Randy's face would be an understatement. "Mother of Mary, that thing really thinks better than we do?"

He stooped over to see if he could find any answers under or behind the desk. Picking up the keypad he felt along the top of the desk.

"Please Mr. Shells, if you must call me something, I would prefer you call me the same thing Karen does. My name is Henry. Although 'thing' may be appropriate in your mind when you refer to the unknown, it does not endear you with me. I understand the nature of humans to do name calling when they’re mad, frustrated, and scared. It serves no useful purpose to do so at an inanimate object."

I'm fairly confident that many of you have heard about me lately, especially after that "expose'

Before I get into that you should know a bit about my background.

I was raised in a fairly normal urban neighbourhood. Was enrolled into self defence classes and achieved a black belt purple strip by age seventeen in a martial art that has been lumped in under the general guise of Mixed Martial Arts now so the belt means almost nothing.

CHAPTER 80
She announced her return with a series of groans, a flutter of eyelashes, and unfortunately a grab for something, anything, to catch the few drops of vomit she brought up. Shan was quicker than me, taking one of the papier-mâché bowls from the side cabinet and holding it to Charlie’s mouth until she was finished.

“Diane?”

“Yes, Shan?”

“Buzz the nurse? She got something for me”