Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER SIX

“I am sorry, Alex, I just do not understand how this ‘anarchist paradise’ of yours would work in the real world.”

“It’s simple, Johnathyn. There would be no organized government of any kind. People would be free to go about their daily lives with complete autonomy. Every man would be free to do what is best for him, to live by his own rules.”

“And what about women?”

“Unlike your world, it would be the same for women. The same freedoms, across the board.”

We were driving through a surprisingly beautiful landscape, along a ridge overlooking a river valley. It had snowed lightly last night, making everything look like a classic black and white photo with the slightest hint of blue. Johnathyn had said it might snow. I’ll be damned if I knew how he did it but he was right. The sun was bright, taking the chill out of the air. The solar charger was sucking in the photons, refreshing the laptop’s battery. I had given into Lee’s begging, letting her watch a Disney DVD last night.

I like the Pixar movies. So what? Sue me.

We all huddled under the blankets and ate parched corn while watching the show. Popcorn is a way better snack. It seems like Johnathyn is letting me deal with Lee more as she gets used to my presence. At first, she treated me more as a girlfriend but, lately, I’ve become more of an authority figure. With her father’s permission, of course. I’m not going to step on Johnathyn’s toes, not as big as he is.

Though, he seems to be more of the ‘gentle giant’ type. Probably because he’s had to be both mother and father to Lee since she was born. Playing that kind of maternal role likely has an effect on how a guy goes through life and reacts toward people. I’ve found he’s also got a lot of common sense. We’ve talked quite a bit in the last three weeks, about all kinds of stuff. I’ve learned a lot about his world and he’s learned a lot about mine. Today’s discussion is about my politics, a favorite of mine.

“So, you say that women would have the same rights and duties as a man.”

“Exactly the same.”

“And there would be no government to interfere.”

“That’s right.”

“So who protects the woman’s rights?”

“Who says anybody needs to? She can protect her own.”

“Alexia, if my world is proof of anything, it is that women cannot protect their own rights.” He always calls me Alexia when he wants to make a point.

“Are you saying women are inferior, that they can’t protect themselves?”

“No. I would assume from what you have told me that even though many women in my world have power not available to women in your world, they are treated quite badly, not as well as your women are. The difference seems to be that your government supports them and mine does not.”

“But there doesn’t need to be ANY government. That’s my point!”

Lee worms her way between us as we sit on the driver’s bench. “Are you two fighting again?”

Johnathyn glances over at me. He wants me to take this one. Fine.

“We aren’t fighting, Lee. It’s just a discussion. Adults discuss things all the time.”

“It’s a very loud ‘discussion.’”

“He’s not being loud, I am. I’m just very passionate about my beliefs.” She giggles. “What’s so funny?”

“You said ‘passionate’. I know what that means. I read about it in your dictionary.”

Maybe giving her unlimited access to that program wasn’t such a good idea after all. “Passionate can apply to a lot of things, not just men and women.”

She smiles at me, like she knows something I don’t. “If you say so. Can I use the computer?”

“No, it hasn’t finished charging yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because we watched your movie last night.”

“You watched too.”

“You asked to watch. Your father and I would have been perfectly happy to do something else.”

She smiles again. “Like what?”

I ignore that comment. “I gave you a choice last night. If you watched the movie, it would have to come out of your time today.”

“But I’m BORED!”

“You should have thought about that last night. You’ve only had access to a computer for, what, three weeks? Do what you did before then.”

“I was bored back then, too.”

“Then play with dolls or something, whatever girls do.”

“I’m too old for dolls!”

“Then read a book.”

She pulls back from between us with a disgusted “Humph” and goes to sit in the back of the wagon.

I shake my head. Johnathyn nudges me with his shoulder.

“You did that quite well, Alexia.”

“I’ve had experience. My brother was always expecting me to entertain him, especially when we were younger. I’ve heard that ‘I’m BORED’ complaint a lot.”

“Well, for whatever reason, I think you handled the situation quite well.”

“Thanks. Sorry about yelling back there. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“Do not worry about it. Leeanna understands. It is just that no child likes to hear her parents arguing.”

What?! Parents?!

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We continue along this road for several miles. We are heading for Shellcrest, a small to medium sized town for this world. We’ve stopped at a couple of really small towns along the way so that Johnathyn could do some blacksmith work. It helps with our cover and gives us a chance to resupply a little bit.

Johnathyn is very skilled. He can fix farm tools like plows, shovels, hoes and such but also household tools, more delicate items. He even did some gunsmithing, fixed three different rifles, the old, single shot, black powder kind. I haven’t shown him my Glock yet. Don’t know how he would react to it and I wouldn’t want him to think I was threatening him in any way. Big guy, remember?

Whenever we’d roll into a town, people would flock around like he was the Good Humor Man with ice cream for sale. He’d set up shop at the nearest stable and get to work. I liked watching him. The man is an artist. Unfortunately, the local men didn’t like a woman, even his “wife” hanging around so Leeanna and I had to spend our time with the women and girls. Thank Zaphod, this world’s version of God, Lee loved to talk. I just let her answer the questions and killed time.

This world does have money, mostly metal coins, but it seems to work more on the barter system. That’s how we resupplied. I also picked up some more clothes that fit me a little better than Johnathyn’s dead wife’s’ did. Her name was Leeantha. Not hard to figure out where Leeanna got her name. I think Johnathyn was happy to see me get a new wardrobe. I caught him looking at me kinda funny a few times dressed in his wife’s stuff.

Which were mostly summer clothes. The other women were aghast at how little I had with me and that they were out of season. I explained that all my own stuff had been lost in transit, a fire. The new, actually well used stuff, was heavier and warmer and I was glad to get it, particularly if I couldn’t wear pants. It’s surprising how warm a petticoat is.

Another thing we faced were several offers from the locals to keep Leeanna in their home for the night. Once the women discovered we were “newlyweds”, the offers poured in to keep Leeanna overnight so that I could have some alone time with my big, handsome, hunk of a husband. I guess he is good looking, in that rugged, outdoors kind of way, and Zaphod knows he’s in great shape. He pounds iron and carries anvils for a living, for Christ’s sake! I’ve seen the man without his shirt on. The muscles have muscles.

I managed to fend off the women’s offers. Apparently Johnathyn had to do the same with the men. Seems I’m quite the hotty too. I told him we were the Brad and Angelina of his world.

He didn’t get that one either.

Shellcrest is a different place. A mining town. Even I know that mining towns in the old days of earth were not safe places. Johnathyn says it’s the same story here. We’re following the road on the ridge of the river valley when it makes a bend to the right. As we make the bend, an ugly scar on the picturesque landscape comes into view. Down in the valley, a large portion of one side of the valley has been gouged from the earth. There’s a long fence around the area. It looks like an open pit mine of some kind. The road we’re on winds its way down to the site, crossing a bridge and then works its way around the perimeter, climbing to the other side of the valley, where a town sits on the edge.

“Shellcrest” Johnathyn says, spitting the word out with venom.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the gouge.

“That is the mine that supports the town.”

I point to a structure on the opposite ridge, near the town. “And what is that?”

He squints his eyes, trying to get a better look at it. “I am not certain.”

“I am. That, my dear husband, is a solar array, likely a hundred thousand kilowatts. There is tech here.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I have Johnathyn drive the wagon slowly along the perimeter road of the mine. I’m searching for wi-fi signals but am having no luck. The antenna in the laptop isn’t the most sensitive. I keep getting little nibbles but no more. It could just be background radiation. More disturbing than my failure to get a good wi-fi signal is what I can see on the other side of the fence. Women and children, digging in the ground with the most basic of tools, moving dirt and rock with wheel barrows. Hundreds of them. As we drive by and watch them, they watch us. Not openly, because the MEN in charge are watching them closely but they know we’re here. From the furtive looks we’re getting, I’d bet every one of those women and children would like to be on this wagon, riding away from this ugly place. I climb back up onto the driver’s seat next to Johnathyn.

“No luck,” I whisper. “Why are all those women and kids in there?”

“Debt labor would be my guess.”

“What the hell is that?”

“Their families fell on hard times, couldn’t pay their bills and now they are there to try to work until the debt is paid. But they never will.”

“You mean if the parents can’t pay the bills, the kids have to work it off?”

“Or if the husband can’t, so must the wife …” He glances back at Lee, who is intently watching the children working behind the fence. He continues in a quieter voice, “… if she can’t find ‘other’ work.”

I also glance back at Lee to make sure she’s not paying attention to us. “You mean … selling herself?”

Johnathyn subtly nods his head, barely concealed anger on his face.

“Should she be seeing this?” I ask.

“It is a part of our world. Another part of our shame. She must know it if we are to rid ourselves of it and banish it forever.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We pull into town before sunset but the party has already started. If it ever stops in the first place. Lee is sitting between us on the driver’s bench, my arm around her waist. I’m not letting go until we have left this place. The Glock is in my “new” handbag, a gift from one of the ladies at our last stop, which is in my lap.

Along the main street of the town, there’s noise and crowds around what I’m assuming are bars. If Lee wasn’t here, I’d be interested in checking them out but I’m not leaving her alone for a second.

“Tell me again why you thought this was a good idea, Johnathyn.”

“It was not my idea. I was given a general route to follow to get you to Glory. It was my discretion but I was required to make certain stops. This is one of them. The first, actually.”

“Great. Check points. If the others are anything like this, it’ll be the last. What are we supposed to do?”

“Get a room at the ‘Black Horse Inn’ and wait for further instructions.”

“Don’t ya’ just love a mystery.”

When we arrive at the inn, there’s already a room ready for us. The “Black Horse Inn” appears to be one of the better ones we saw as we drove through town. It has a bar, of sorts and serves food. They have some burly guys at the door and in the bar so security is tight, for this world. I actually see one of the men with a single shot pistol in his belt. Probably the head of security. I think we are a little underdressed for the crowd but I don’t care. It is the best of a bunch of bad choices.

There’s a hot bath waiting in the room when we arrive. Lee goes first, I’m second while Johnathyn waits outside and he’s third while Lee and I hang around what passes for a lobby. Unfortunately, Lee had used some of her bath oils and Johnathyn came out smelling a bit fruity.

It doesn’t matter. The bar is so full of smoke you couldn’t have smelled a banana boat. Apparently, the custom is that men eat in the bar and the women folk eat in their rooms. Johnathyn begins to explain it to me but one look tells him that I’m not putting up with it. We catch a lot of stares but we’re served quickly, guess management doesn’t want to allow the disturbance to social order continue for too long.

The meal is actually very good. We had been eating a lot of preserved food while on the road and this was fresh. Mostly fresh. When we get back to the room, there is a note that had been slid under the door. Johnathyn picks it up and reads it.

“What’s it say?” I ask.

“My contact is at the ‘Blue Rooster’. I must go now.”

“Nice place, the ‘Blue Rooster’?”

“I have no knowledge.”

“Girls?”

“Again. No knowledge.”

“Hang on, I’ll be right with you.”

“It says that I am to come alone.”

“Like hell.”

“Alexia … please. I did not raise the point at the meal but you really must try to blend in if we are to safely travel to Glory. I am one man and can do only so much to protect you. I will be back as quickly as possible. I promise … no matter how pretty the girls are.”

“Father!” Lee shouts.

I grin and shake my head. “Bring back one for me.”

“Mother!” Lee shouts again, then claps her hands to her mouth, eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles from behind her hands.

Quickly I sit down on the bed and pull her over to me, holding her close and stroking her hair. “It’s alright, I understand. It’s okay. I … I love you too, Leeanna.” She grabs me by the waist, laying her head on my breast, closing her eyes. I look up at Johnathyn. “We’ll be here when you get back. Hurry.”

He nods his head, grabs his cloak, opens the door, looks me in the eye and taps the lock with his index finger. I nod in response and he’s gone, closing the door behind him. I reach down and tip Lee’s head up. She opens her eyes. I smile down at her.

“How about a movie? We’ll use headphones so no one else will hear. What we don’t see before your father gets back, we’ll watch in the wagon tomorrow. How about that?”

“Thank you.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We finished one movie and were well into the second before I finally face the truth. I’m going to have to find Johnathyn. It’s been way too long. Neither of us was actually watching by now.

“Leeanna …”

She clutches at me. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

I hug her. “I know. You’re frightened. So am I but I have to go find your father. He’s likely fine but I need to find him.”

She starts to cry. “He’s dead. I know he’s dead.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Then why hasn’t he come back?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

“If you go out there, you’ll die and then I’ll die.”

Awww Jesus H. Christ. I’ve got to go find Johnathyn but I can’t leave her alone and I can’t take her with me. This place is as safe as any in this town, she just doesn’t believe it. Maybe I can make here feel safer.

“Stay right here, Lee.”

I go over to my hand bag and remove a small key. I’ve been locking the backpack pouch that holds the Glock with a small padlock since Lee began helping herself to the laptop. Unlocking the padlock, I remove the Glock, keeping Lee to my back so she can’t see what I’m doing. I pop the magazine out and empty the chamber, putting all the ammo back in the pouch and locking it again.

“Leeanna,” I say, turning to face her, “there’s no choice here. I have to go find your father.” She’s already starting to cry again. “Please Leeanna, listen to me. This is a very safe place. They have guards all over the first floor and we are on the second floor. But, just to be extra safe, I’m giving you some protection.” I lay the Glock on the bed next to her. “This is my gun. It’s from my world. It is much more powerful than any gun from your world. It can fire eighteen times without reloading.”

“Eighteen?!”

“Yes. You just aim and pull the two triggers.” I carefully hand it to her and place my hands over hers. “You just sight down the barrel …”

“Father has shown me how to shoot.”

“Good, then you know the rules. Don’t aim at something unless you intend to shoot it and don’t have your finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot. You won’t need this. No one is going to bother you. I’m just walking down the street, find out what is going on and come right back.” I release my grip on Lee’s hands. I can’t hug her though I desperately want to, she might think it’s goodbye or something. I lift my cape off the hook on the wall, throw it over my shoulders and tie it tightly around my neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back as quickly as possible. I promise.”

“Won’t you need your gun?”

I force a smile as I open the door. “I’m a Seventy Seven witch. Who’s going to mess with me? Lock this after I’m gone.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

There are a lot more people in the street now than when we drove through hours ago, practically all of them men. The town is narrow and long, running along this side of the ridge of the valley. The “Black Horse Inn” is at one end, the nice end. I can’t see the “Blue Rooster” from the porch of the inn. A big flashing neon sign would be nice. There’s a man just getting off his horse in front of the inn. Maybe he’s from around here.

“Excuse me, Sir. Do you know where the ‘Blue Rooster’ is?”

He looks down at me, disdain written on his face. “You should know when to speak to your better, lass.”

Better? BETTER?! Who the Hell is this guy? I’m just about to give him my opinion about this ‘better’ crap when he stalks past me and into the inn, ignoring me completely. So, that’s the way it’s going to be. You don’t spend your entire life in New York City and not learn how to deal with pompous jerks. I’d chase him down but Johnathyn said I should keep a low profile. He’s probably right. Unfortunately.

He’s likely not the last guy I’m going to run into tonight with that attitude so I’d better break out the New York state of mind for the rest of the day. One side’s as good as the other, so I take the right side of the street and march off, checking out each building as I pass, looking for a sign, a name plate, something telling me what its’ name is. I pass what looks like a general store, a barber shop, “The Silk Garter”, “The Wolf’s Bane” and a clothing store before running into a crowd of drunken men. I try to pass them on the road side of the walkway but one of them grabs me around the waist, pulling me towards the group.

“What have we here, me boys? A fair lass alone in such a city as this. The poor girl needs our protection. What say you, woman?”

I reach down with my right hand, grab his thumb and bend it back towards his wrist. Even as drunk as he is, he feels the pain instantly, letting go of me, dropping to one knee.

“OOOWWWWW!! Release me you WOMAN! I’ll OOOWWWWWW! STOP THAT!”

His equally drunk buddies find it all pretty funny. They’re laughing and stumbling around. I press my advantage.

“Pray, kind Sir. Do you know where I might find ‘The Blue Rooster’?”

“UNHAND ME WENCH OR I’LL GIVE YOU THE BACK OF MY HAND! OOOOWW!! OOWW! OOOWWW!”

I release some of the pressure I applied after that last outburst.

“Ill mannered you may be, but surely you can be a gentleman and answer a simple question.”

He looks up at me, anger blazing in his eyes, the pain sobering him up quickly. One of his laughing friends touches my shoulder. I jerk my head around to stare him down, not losing the grip on my first friends’ thumb. He steps back, hands up and palms forward.

“Have mercy on my poor friend. He didn’t recognize Opulessa in this disguise of yours.”

“My name is Alexia and can you answer my question?”

There’s a lot of harsh laughter and eye rolling before the second guy quiets everyone down.

“Who are we to keep ALEXIA from her duty? The ‘Blue Rooster’ is just across the street.”

I let go of the thumb, its owner immediately stands up and draws back his hand to slap me. The second guy stops him.

“You were bested, Adrick, accept it.”

“It was a trick!”

“Aye, it was. One I wish I knew. You had better move along, lass, before the constables arrive.”

I don’t want to leave it at that, but I’ve got the information I need. I back away several feet to make sure I’m not being followed then turn and hurry across the road, dodging horses, wagons and the inevitable results of a lot of horses moving through an area until I reach the other side of the road. I check to make sure no one is following me. The group is moving down the street, making fun of the guy whose thumb I could easily have broken. That was a close one. Somebody grabs both my arms from behind.

“We’re not a group of Klatch sucking fools … witch.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

What is taking Pegues so long! I’ve been waiting in this stinking bar for over two cycles! At first I had to fend off the bar wenches but there were many more interested men and they soon discovered I was not going to partake tonight. Even if I had not been here on business, their charms are nothing compared to Alexia. So beautiful but so strong also. She is perhaps too certain of herself, but that is a folly of youth. Life teaches you humility over time.

Time! I have left Leeanna alone for much too long. Alexia will do the best she can to keep her calm but I should have returned long ago. Damn Pegues! Where are you?

“Tyber! You look well.”

He came upon me from behind. “Pegues, you are late. Very late. Explain yourself!”

“Calm yourself. All is well.”

“All is not well. I have left my daughter in this unruly town for far too long.”

“But she was not alone. The intrepid Alexia Thompson has been with her.”

“Leeanna is not Alexia’s responsibility, she is mine and mine alone.”

“That is why I picked the ‘Black Horse Inn’, the safest inn for miles around.”

“Still ….”

“Let us finish our talk and you can return to your daughter. Has Alexia displayed any mastery of magic?”

“None that I have seen. She is a remarkable person but no magical abilities, at least not yet. Are you certain she is the One?”

“Yes, I am. Everything depends on it. Perhaps she has not been challenged enough.”

“What do you mean, Pegues?”

“She may need the proper motivation to display her capabilities.”

“What kind of motivation?”

“We shall see.”

“What have you done, Pegues?”

“Nothing dangerous. Some of my men are … threatening Alexia, persuading her to show what she can do.”

“Are you mad! They could hurt her!”

“Not seriously. A little pain can be good encouragement to defend yourself.”

“Where are they?!”

“Behind this building. Wait! Tyber, where are you …”

I jump up from the table, grab my cloak from the chair next to me, run out the front door and around the building. When I reach the back, I see Alexia surrounded by five men. One is on his back, unconscious. A second is writhing on the ground, clutching his nether regions. The other three are in front of her, holding knives, shifting around while she wields a long piece of lumber, holding them at bay.

“Alexia!”

She looks up to see me, as do the men in front of her.

“Where the Hell have you been!” she shouts, stepping forward and swinging the piece of lumber with all her strength, striking the man nearest her who had turned his head when I shouted her name. She catches him in the side of the head, sending him sprawling across the frozen ground and his knife flying through the air, landing near me. I pick up the knife and slowly edge over to where she stands, watching the other men as I do so.

“I was detained. Do you want a knife?”

I point towards the knife dropped by the first man she had struck. She waggles the wood in her hand.

“No thanks. I’m doing pretty good with this, keeps them away from me.”

“Striking that man when he was not looking … that wasn’t very fair.”

“I’m from New York. There’s no such thing as a fair fight.”

“What do we do with these men?”

“Now that you’re here, I can beat ‘em to death.”

The two men opposite us turn their heads to look at each other then quickly run for it. I start to give chase but Alexia calls to me.

“Let it ride, Johnathyn.”

“Ride what?”

“Let them go. We need to get back to Leeanna.”

“Are you well?”

“I’m fine. They never laid a glove on me.” She tosses the lumber aside and smiles. “It’s been awhile since I was in an honest to God fight. Nice to know I’m not rusty. You done here?”

“Yes, I saw who I needed to see. Are you certain you are well?”

“Yes, I am perfectly well. Let’s go.”

She strikes out for the “Black Horse Inn”, walking quickly away, her skirt swishing around her legs as she strides first through the partially frozen muck and then along the walk as she reaches the street. I have to hurry to catch up to her.

“What happened back there?” I ask as we walk along, me donning my cloak.

“One of them grabbed me from behind. He and a friend drug me back behind the building. At least ten guys saw them do it and not a damn one of them said shit about it! What the fuck is wrong with this world? You don’t go grabbing women off the street in front of a crowd of men.”

“Agreed. Terrible thing. What happened?!”

“The other three were waiting for us when we got back behind the building. They let me go and told me to stand there and wait. The group huddled up and started discussing what they should do with me, ignoring me completely. What the hell were they thinking?”

“That you would do as you were told.”

“Somebody should have warned them then. There was a piece of wood about the size of a baseball bat in a pile of trash. I picked it up and clocked one of them in the head from behind and got another one in the balls before they knew what hit ’em. The other three pulled knives and tried to surround me but I held them off for a couple of minutes. That’s when you showed up. Thanks. I’m not sure I could have taken the other three.”

“What did they want?”

“That’s the weird part. I think they wanted to rough me up but they hadn’t decided how to do it. They were so busy talking they didn’t see me grab the bat. Idiots.”

“Thank Zaphod they were or you might have been harmed.”

“Maybe, but I got the impression they didn’t want to hurt me, at least not badly. Someone sent them after me.”

This is not good. “Did they say who it was?”

“I didn’t catch a name. We may need to be more careful. Did you meet your contact?”

“Yes.”

“AND?!”

“And?”

“What happens next?”

“All is as planned. We continue on to our next stop.” As we near the Black Horse Inn, Alexia stops, placing her palm lightly on my chest. My flesh tingles despite my thick cloak and woolen shirt.

“We better not say anything about the fight to Leeanna. She thought you were dead and that she and I were next. No use getting her all worked up. Just tell her that your guy was late.”

“Which he was.”

“That’s right. She doesn’t need to know the whole story. She was really worried about you.”

“And you, Alexia, were you also worried about me?” I look down at her as she glances up, our eyes connecting. She blushes.

“Me? No … I … no, I wasn’t … You’re a big boy, you can take care of yourself … though I did tell Leeanna that I was worried … I didn’t want her to think she was alone … that’s all.”

I smile. “That was kind of you. Let us go in and assure her that everything is well.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Two of my men are waiting for me when I return to my room. One is well but the other has a black eye that appears to be in its early stages. If so, it will be a beauty before it is done.

“Pegues! Why didn’t you warn …”

“Be silent! Come in and we can talk.”

I unlock the door and we all hurry in, locking the door behind us. I drop my cloak on the bed and turn to face them.

“Now, Bailles, what happened?”

“What happened was that She-demon you sent us after nearly killed Dudian. Tarique may never father children and you can see for yourself what she did to Nuggent here.”

“Where is the fifth member of your party?”

“Tyco took Dudian to a Healer.”

“How did she do all this?”

“With a club of hard maple, that’s how. We might have had her if that bull of a man hadn’t interfered.”

“Any signs of magic? Any at all?”

“None that I saw,” answers Nuggent.

“How did one woman get the advantage of five men?”

“I don’t understand how. We followed her from the Inn, just as you instructed. She had a dispute with a group of drunken louts, besting one of them with some kind of grip on his hand.”

“Maybe that was magic,” says Bailles.

“Not likely. Go on, Nuggent.”

“After disposing of the louts, she crossed the street where Bailles and I caught her, bringing her to the back of the “Blue Rooster”. We released her, told her to wait right there and do nothing. We proceeded to discuss what to do next and she attacked us! From BEHIND! Dudian and Tarique went down almost immediately. We had recovered from that attack and were almost ready to take care of the problem when a big man …”

“The bull,” adds Bailles.

“… came around the corner of the ‘Blue Rooster’. I turned to see who it was and …” he gingerly touched his eye, wincing.

“Leaving Tyco and I,” finishes Bailles. “The bull picked up Nuggent’s knife. We ran for it but they didn’t chase us. We circled back and Tyco carted Dudian to the Healer. You know the rest.”

“No magic at all?”

“Other than how else can you explain one young girl besting five strong men?” says Nuggent.

“She had help.”

“Yes, Bailles. The bull. There is another explanation. Alexia was not raised as our women were. She had a different life before coming here.”

“You might have warned us, Pegues.”

“That was part of the test, Bailles. The results are disappointing but there is still time.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

We stopped at two more little towns over the next three days and Johnathyn did his blacksmith jack of all trades thing while Lee and I did the girl thing. Mostly Lee, I just stayed in the background as much as possible, though she did have me explain how I made a chicken casserole with rice and mushrooms. All the women seemed impressed. We got a fresh baked pie out of it along with other supplies so it was a successful couple of stops.

Johnathyn was driving on the fourth day out from Shellcrest while I sat next to him. It was a surprisingly warm day and we were heading into a high sun, so neither of us had our heavy cloaks or capes on. We were talking about guns. He had seen the Glock when we had gotten back to our room at the “Black Horse Inn” and insisted I show it to him, explaining how it all worked. He made me promise to let him try it the first chance we had, which turned out to be late on the first day out from Shellcrest. He felt we were far enough away from civilization, such that it was, that it was safe.

He was like a little kid with a new toy. I limited him to just three clips, didn’t want to burn the ammo on target practice. Naturally, he started wild but he quickly got better. Then he brought out his flintlock from a locked box on the side of the wagon. He said he made it himself. The man is a craftsman; there is no doubt about that. The wood polished to a bright sheen. All the metal smooth and clean, no sign of rust anywhere. Looked to be about .50 caliber. He showed me how to shoot it and I fired it several times, as did Lee. She was better than I, as was Johnathyn, but, to be fair, they had a lot more practice than I had.

Johnathyn was actually very good, and surprisingly fast. He could reload and shoot very quickly, but, obviously, nothing like a semi-auto hand gun. We were just rehashing the shooting excursion while we drove on when two men on horseback surprised us by bolting from a stand of trees by the side of the road, blocking our path. They are dressed alike, black pants and tunics with light metal yellow breast plates with some kind of insignia painted on the upper left corner. Johnathyn brought the wagon to a quick stop while I told Lee to hide the computer. She had been using the Britannica program to research about fruit trees.

“Where should I put it?” she whispers, wide eyed.

My pack is too far away. “Just hide it deep under those blankets.”

She gives me a quick nod and wraps a shawl around it, then stuffs it far under a pile of bedding. Unfortunately, the Glock is also locked in my pack. I turn back to Johnathyn.

“Who are they?” I whisper.

“The Queen’s Guard,” he quietly answers.

“What do they want?”

“Probably some of our supplies. They are worse than thieves. Just give them what they want and they will leave us alone.”

“You mean we’re supposed to let these bums just take what they want? How in the world do you …”

“Alexia. Please.”

They’re almost on top of us. “Fine,” I grouse.

“Good morning,” shouts the older guard. “Where are you headed this fine day?”

“We are traveling to Winstead.”

“And what is your business in Winstead?” asks the younger guard.

“I am a blacksmith. We travel about, making a living.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“My wife and child.”

The younger Guard stays in front while the older one brings his horse around to the back of the wagon, where Lee is sitting.

“How old are you child?”

“Ten.” She answers, sullenly.

“The woman is too young to bear this child.”

“My child’s mother died in childbirth. The woman is my new wife.”

The young guard is giving me the once over. I’d be happier if I was wearing my cape. I’m sure the look on my face is not offering him any encouragement. It may not matter.

“Why do you stop us?” asks Johnathyn.

“We are authorized to stop all vehicles to search for contraband. There are rebels in these lands and we must root them out.” replies the older guard.

“We are not rebels,” says Johnathyn.

“Perhaps not,” says the younger guard. “We shall see what we see. Everyone out the back.”

Johnathyn steps off the bench , walking through the wagon. I follow him. When we reach the back, he jumps out. I help Lee out and then jump out myself. The older guard reaches to a scabbard attached to his saddle and pulls out a rifle … a M4A1!

How the Hell did this guy get a current issue US Army weapon?!

He indicates with the muzzle where he wants us to stand. Johnathyn and I stand together, Leeanna standing in front of us. The other guard rides around the back, dismounts, climbs into the back of the wagon and starts to tear it apart.

“What exactly are you looking for?” I ask.

The older guard glares at me for a second or two. “Contraband.”

“And what exactly is defined as contraband … Sir?”

“Whatever we think it is and you best keep a civil tongue in your head or I may cut it out.”

Johnathyn takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “Be calm,” he whispers.

The young guard continues to go through the wagon but doesn’t find anything he thinks is of value. The longer he goes without finding something, the madder he gets.

“Where’s your money?” he demands.

“We have no money” Johnathyn answers. “It is all trade. I work, they give me supplies. We have flour, beans, salt, sugar …”

“What do I care for flour and beans?! You best have something of value or we will take it out in trade ourselves with your pretty wife. And daughter.”

Johnathyn’s hand reflexively clamps down on mine as the other guard laughs. The one in the wagon returns to ripping it apart. Lee begins to cry.

The older guard points the muzzle of the rifle at me. “Woman! Keep the whelp quiet.”

I slowly squat down next to her. “These nice … men will be done soon. We’ll put everything back the way it was and be on our way. They won’t be much longer …”

“What is this?” shouts the younger guard. He comes to the back of the wagon holding my pack.

CRAP! I look up at Johnathyn. Our eyes meet and he nods his head slightly.

“They are my tools. I can carry them if the job is away from the road or the wagon.”

“Show me these tools.”

“As you can see, it is locked.”

“Then unlock it …” he pulls a knife from his belt, “or I shall open it myself.”

Now what? Either way, he’s going to find my other equipment and the Glock. He may not know what the other stuff is but he’ll be interested in that Glock. I stand up but before I can do anything else, something in the wagon starts beeping.

“What is that?” he asks. He starts digging into the bedding where Lee hid the computer. It only takes a few seconds for him to find it.

He looks the beeping machine over, moving it about in his hands. “A curiosity” he announces.

“Let’s have a look” the older guard says. The younger one jumps out of the wagon, but before he takes a step, Lee runs over to him and grabs the laptop.

“That’s ours and you can’t have it!” she shouts.

“Leeanna!” Johnathyn screams.

They both have a grip on it and each pulls but Lee manages to get it away from the guard, falling to the ground when he releases it.

“Stupid bitch! I’ll teach you some manners!” He lifts his knife and steps towards her.

“NOOO!” I bellow, making a slashing motion with my right arm. The guard pauses, his eyes grow wide and white … then his head falls off, the body staying upright for a few seconds before tumbling to the ground, spraying blood from his neck.

The other guard drops his rifle in shock. Leeanna screams as the blood hits her, then she faints. Johnathyn looks down at me.

“How …” he starts but the older guard points at me as his horse rears up.

“WITCH!” he shouts. “WITCH!!!” He spurs his horse and gallops away, rapidly speeding down the road.

Johnathyn grabs my arms. “We must stop him! He knows about us, about you! He will tell his superiors! You must stop him!”

“Me?! There’s a horse, you chase him down! You can take the Glock!”

“He has too great a head start and he is much smaller than I. I won’t be able to catch him. You must do it, Alexia.”

“I don’t know how!”

“You killed HIM!” he says, pointing to the body on the ground.

“He was going to hurt Lee! I don’t know how it happened, it just did!”

“Then it has best happen again because it is all up to you, Alexia.”

I look down the road. He’s at least half a mile away. I swing my arms but nothing happens. He’s getting farther away each second. I close my eyes and concentrate, calming my breathing, slowing my heart beat. I think of the horse and rider.

“Alexia?” asks Johnathyn.

“SSHHHH. Drop it.”

I try to put myself there in my mind. I can feel the wind, hear the panting horse, the jingle and rattle of the hardware on the saddle, the pounding of the hooves. I open my eyes.

I’m there. Right beside him. The guard is bouncing in the saddle but I’m tracking with him, smooth as silk. He’s talking to himself … or I’m hearing his thoughts.

“The witch will pay for this! She killed Thackery. I will report this to the Captain and we will get her! Her and that witch whelp of hers!”

“Not a good idea.”

He jerked his head left and right, panic clear in his eyes. He heard me.

“Where are you, Witch?!”

“Apparently right next to you. So … you want to turn me into your Captain?”

“NO … No … I would never do that. Never.”

“Then stop and let’s talk about it.”

“No. You’ll kill me!”

“I can kill you anyway. Stop and we can try to work it out.”

“No. No, it’s my duty. I must … Please! I have a wife, children.”

“Any daughters?”

“No, but …

“Pity.”

The horse rides on alone as the guard’s head goes one way and his body falls the other.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It took hours to clean everything up. We stripped and buried the bodies. The heads were buried elsewhere. We kept the one horse and both M4A1’s, along with the extra ammo and clips. I didn’t even try to get the blood from Leeanna’s clothes, we just burned them along with the uniforms the guards wore. Johnathyn said we should get moving as soon as possible. I agreed so I tried to straighten up the wagon while we were rolling down the road. Leeanna sat on the bench next to her father, wrapped in a blanket, still in a state of shock.

It was a full moon and clear skies so we continued driving past sunset, though at a slower pace. We finally pulled off the road near midnight, having pushed the horses pretty hard. We weren’t going anywhere tomorrow.

Johnathyn helped me fix a simple supper. He’d never done that before. We all ate in silence then Leeanna returned to the wagon, leaving her father and I alone around the fire. The clear skies mean a cold night. I’ve got my cape wrapped tightly around my shoulders and feel dead tired but have no desire to go to sleep. Johnathyn is pouring something from a brown jug into his metal mug.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Klatch. It’s a local drink.”

“Why haven’t I seen you drink it before?”

“I try not to drink it very often. It sets a bad example for …” He tips his head towards the wagon.

“I see. It’s booze. Pass it over.” I hold out my hand but he hesitates. “What’s wrong?”

“Klatch is very strong.”

“And you don’t think I can handle it? Johnathyn, ol’ buddy ol’ pal, I’ve tried them all. I think I can handle Klatch.”

“Miran Pegues said your world had nothing like it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Hand it over.”

He carefully passes me the mug and I took a sniff. Nothing outstanding. I take a sip and my eyes cross, the burning sensation running from my mouth to my toes. I try to keep a straight face as I pass the mug back.

“What do you think?” he asks.

I don’t try to speak right away because I know that I can’t. It takes several seconds for my vision to clear.

“Miran is wrong, we have something like that. It’s called Everclear Wood Grain Alcohol, though I think Everclear has a more subtle palate and sophisticated aftertaste.”

Johnathyn takes a big swig and reaches for the jug to refill the mug. “I would like to try this Everclear. Our worlds have so many similarities.”

“Yeah. Death and taxes.”

He takes another big drink. The guy must have a metal gullet. He offers it to me again. I take it and sip. It leaves me gasping for air.

“Are you well, Alexia?”

“Yeah, just swallowed wrong.” I hand the mug back.

He takes it, rolling it between the palms of his hands while staring at the fire.

“Alexia, I must apologize for not protecting my daughter today. And you.”

“It’s not your job to protect me.”

“But it is. I am the man of the family and it is my responsibility.”

“Hey. I’m a man too, remember?”

“Somehow, I have a difficult time thinking of you as a man.”

“Well, I am and don’t you forget it, though, after seeing what the men of this world are like I’m not exactly a member of the cheering section. Present company excluded.”

“Thank you, Alexia. There are many good men in this world.”

He hands me the mug and I sip again. The effect isn’t as extreme when you’re expecting it. “Couldn’t prove it by me. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I scared Leeanna half to death when I … did that guy. I didn’t mean to do it, I mean not that much. I just wanted to stop him from hurting her, not kill him.”

“It did not matter. If you had used magic to stop him, they would have reported it and we would be running for our lives right now. They were dead men as soon as they discovered that bag of yours.”

“Johnathyn … you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to … but, have you ever killed someone? Intentionally killed someone?”

“No. No, I have not.”

“Neither had I before today.”

“But you knew it would happen eventually, correct? You wanted vengeance on those who killed your mother and … sister? Surely, that means killing them, correct?”

“I guess so; hadn’t really thought it all through. Vengeance sounds good, like it’s what you should do, particularly if the cops aren’t doing anything, but the reality is harder than you realize. That first guard was practically an accident.”

“A happy accident, no doubt.”

“Yeah, I guess. Leeanna survived. I didn’t know what would happen. But the second one was a different story. I tracked him down from out of nowhere but I was trying to do it. When I got to him, I tried to settle everything. He refused to work with me, so I killed him. Just like that.”

“You had no other choice. They have fast horses and powerful guns. We have neither. You did it to save Leeanna. And me. And yourself. And, eventually, if we succeed, this world. A small price to pay.”

“No. An enormous price to pay. From here on out, I will take as few lives as I can get away with.”

He tips the mug back, draining it, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then you had best learn how to control your powers.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When we enter the town square of Winstead, it looks like the entire town is gathered there. I thought maybe word of Johnathyn’s skills had spread but as we got closer, I could see why the crowd was there.

A woman, stripped to the waist, was being whipped on the back. Her arms are tied to some kind of wooden frame, her back already covered by fine, bloody lines. I see just two more strikes, the woman not flinching at either one, before the man wielding the whip coils it around his hands and signals for her to be released. Several women rush forward and untie her. Two of them support her as she falls away from the frame, carefully setting her on the ground while a third begins to clean the wounds. I lose sight of her as the other women gather round. The men in the crowd start to drift away but the man with the whip walks towards us, along with two other men. Johnathyn places a big hand on my lap and shakes his head, warning me to say nothing. The man walks up to Johnathyn’s side of the wagon.

“Hail, friend. What business have you here in Winstead?”

“I am a blacksmith, traveling from town to town, applying my trade. Do you have a blacksmith?”

He smiles broadly. “Nay, we do not. You are most welcomed! You may set up next to my store over there.” He points towards a two story wooden building with an empty lot next to it. “You will find that we keep you quite busy. Perhaps you would care to stay awhile?”

“Sorry, but no. My family and I are headed west but I thank you for your offer. If I may ask, what was the trouble I just saw?”

The man frowns, hefting the whip. “A sorry business, that. One of the women in town has been unwilling to accept her lot in life. She has been agitating among her kind for a change in our society. We are a tolerant town but one can only take so much before needing to restore order. I hope that will be last of it.”

Johnathyn nods his head in sympathy. “A trend we have seen as we travel about. Alexia, go see if you can lend a hand.” He leans down towards the man. “My wife has certain talents. She may be able to help.” I climb down off the bench seat, the three men watching me with interest.

“Alexia. One does not hear that name very often. You have my permission to help if you can.”

I bow my head towards him slightly. “Thank you, Sir,” I say through gritted teeth. Johnathyn knows that I can’t likely help but I do want to find out what is going on. I hurry over to the group of women, the one who was whipped is now standing, still supported by two other women. The group is breaking apart just a bit as I approach.

“Can I help?” I ask.

An older woman looks at me, then gasps, her eyes wide with fear. The others don’t react right away, deferring to the older woman, She stares at me for a moment or two, then her eyes narrow.

“What is your name, child.”

“My name is Alexia. And I am not a child.”

Some of the women begin to giggle, but the older woman cuts them off with a look of disapproval. She turns her attention back to me.

“No, you are not a child. You can help Tarryn back to my home. Timara, you go fetch some more bandages. Alexia will help with Tarryn.”

One of the two women supporting the whipped woman looks at the older woman, eyes questioning her decision. The older woman nods, confirming her order so, Timara, I assume, steps away and I step in under Tarryn’s shoulder, helping support her as we slowly and carefully walk away. I have no idea where we are heading so I let the other two take the lead as the other women scatter.

It takes over ten minutes to move Tarryn less than a hundred feet, her moaning filling my ears. We pass several men along the way, some in groups, others standing by themselves. Most with smug looks of satisfaction on their faces, but some look away in shame. Johnathyn may be right, there could be some good men out there. Not good enough to put an end to this abomination though.

The older woman opens the door to a small white house and we ease Tarryn through the door and into a bedroom off the kitchen. The woman hesitates for a moment, then touches my shoulder.

“We will leave her with Bixia, for now.” The other woman smiles up at me as she begins to undress Tarryn, who is laying face down on a bed. The older woman guides me out and closes the door. She studies me for a moment, then turns to the stove, placing a teapot on it.

“Would you like some tea, Alexia?”

“I really should be getting back to my husband.”

“Please, stay a moment. You have helped us today, it is the least I can do. My name is Dierdra.”

She’s a little shorter than I am, heavier too. If I had to guess, I’d say she was early to mid forties, her hair a mix of gray and brown. Not a lot of wrinkles on her face but her hands show their age. She’s worked hard during her life. She’s got that tough Grandmother vibe, not the kind to pass out candy but chase you off her lawn. I give her a smile and a shrug.

“I didn’t really do much. We got here too late for …” I trail off.

“For you to stop it? It would have been foolish for you to attempt to do so.”

“Why didn’t one of you stop it?”

Dierdra sits down, indicating with her hand for me to join her. I do.

“Tarryn is a brave woman, not much older than you, I think. She was warned, more than once, but she persisted. She wanted, no, demanded that we allow her to face the punishment. ‘There can be no change without pain’ she said.”

“Civil disobedience. It’s the push for civil rights all over again.”

“I am not familiar with what you are talking about, Alexia.”

The teapot begins to whistle so Dierdra gets up, removes two small, light blue pottery cups from a shelf next to the stove and pours steaming tea into both, using a cloth to filter out the tea leaves. She sets one in front of me and remains standing, holding the other in her two hands. She brings the cup to her lips, blows gently for a moment then takes a sip.

“Where are you from, Alexia?”

“We’re traveling from New Amsterdam. We plan to stop at Glory before heading west.”

“Glory. An amazing place, that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But you are not from New Amsterdam. You do not speak like a Northeasterner.”

“No, I’m not. My husband is though.”

“Anyone who hears him can tell that is true. But where are YOU from?”

“Does it matter?”

“Perhaps not. I assume you know who else lives in Glory.”

“Do you mean the Queen?”

“Yes, the Witch Queen. Have you ever met a witch before, Alexia?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Does the Queen hold audiences for common folk such as myself?”

“For common folk like you? I would think not. I have met the Queen before. She is a powerful witch, unlike any seen before her.” Dierdra removes her hands from her cup but it just sits there, floating in the air. She lets it stay there for at least ten seconds, then she returns her hands to the sides of the cup, grasping it firmly again but keeping her eyes fixed on mine. “Until now.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Several other women have come and gone from Dierdra’s home, all bringing in supplies to care for Tarryn, who’s asleep right now. There has been so much traffic that I haven’t had many chances to speak with Dierdra about her little demonstration. She made me promise to visit her this evening.

“You couldn’t keep me away with wild horses,” I told her.

I rushed back to where Johnathyn was firing up the forge. There was the usual gaggle of men passing around a bottle but not the group of women. Today’s display probably took the festiveness out of the women. So I stayed in the wagon with Leeanna, who kept as far away from me as possible. I couldn’t even tempt her with music from my MP3 player, a sure fire bit of bait up until today. The killings must really have her spooked.

I look out occasionally to see what Johnathyn is doing. The first time I checked, he was working on mending the blade of a shovel, heating both pieces and hammering them back into one. The next time, he was working on a plow axle. Sometimes I think he’s got more magic in him than I do. I understand the science of it all but it’s still possible to be impressed when you see him in action.

Turns out that the smug little bastard with the whip is Jaylen Burket, leading citizen, business owner and all around big fish in a little pond. He’s also the self-appointed mayor of Winstead. There’s no outpost for the civilian police or the Queen’s Guards for many leagues in any direction. They’re mostly on their own. Johnathyn had accepted an offer to share supper tonight with Burket at his home. Luckily, I wasn’t invited so I made reservations at Dierdra’s for myself and Lee. Apparently, this is a common local practice when discussing business. I’d wager the local chamber of commerce is going to put the screws to Johnathyn to stay in Winstead. Good luck with that one. I can’t even get him to help with the laundry.

Today’s Evolved Man. Baagh!

I bring my laptop with me to Dierdra’s. It’s in my big handbag. Lee hasn’t touched it since the killing of the guards. I haven’t decided yet how much I trust Dierdra. Tonight will help me decide. When Lee and I arrive, I discover that we are alone, Tarryn has been taken back to her house, which isn’t far away, though Dierdra is on call.

“Are you certain you want the child here?” she asks.

“Lee knows as much as I do about what is going on.”

“Is that wise?”

“Her father doesn’t object.”

“But you are her mother.”

“Ahhh … more like step-mother, at least for now.”

“As you wish. What are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am a Fifty Two. What are you?”

“I suppose I am a Seventy Seven.”

“I knew it! As soon as I saw you, I could feel the power in you! It was easier to levitate that cup with you in the room. You radiate magic.”

“Why didn’t I sense it in you?”

“I don’t know. You should have been able to do so. How old are you?”

“Twenty one.”

“And in all that time you have not met another witch?”

Until now, Lee has been silent, just sitting and listening. “Tell her,” she says.

“Leeanna, I’m not sure if we should …”

“Just tell her, ALEX!”

Dierdra is looking back and forth between us. If she is going to help me learn what I need, she must know the truth.

“My name is Alex Thompson. I’m not from this world.”

“What other world is there?”

“This is going to be hard to explain. There are many other worlds, some similar, some quite different. I come from a world that is much more advanced technologically but there is very little magic. Other than that we’re pretty similar except, on my world, men and women are equal.”

Or at least a lot closer to being equal.

“How did you get to my world?”

“There’s a …. device, an invention that lets my people come to your world. I was brought here by one of your people so that I could defeat Queen Opulessa.”

“If there is no magic on your world, how did you become so powerful?”

“This is another tough one. When someone goes from my world to yours, they change sex. On my world, I am the seventh son of a seventh son. On this world, I’m the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. I’ve only had the power for over three weeks. I don’t know how it works or how to control it.”

“You are saying that if I would go to your world, I would become a man?”

“Yes. The man who first contacted me was a woman on my world. She didn’t bother to tell me about the change until I was already here.”

“Why did you come at all?”

“To be truthful, I was tricked.”

“So, when you discovered you were tricked, why did you not return immediately?”

“There are people in your world working with people in my world. The person who brought me here originally wanted my brother, the eighth son of a seventh son. People here found out about the plan and had people in my world kill both my brother and mother. I am here to make certain they do not get away with it.”

“If your brother had come instead of you … he would have been a Seventy Eight!”

“That’s what I’ve been told. As it is, they’re stuck with me.”

“And you plan to challenge Opulessa?”

“We are on our way to Glory now.”

“Did a man create this plan?”

“I believe so.”

“It must have been a man because it is utter madness!”

“What do you mean?”

“You have no chance, girl. None. Opulessa has been the ruling queen of this world for over two hundred years. She has exquisite command of her power and it is immense. Compared to me, my power is measured in drops and hers in buckets.”

“Don’t I also have buckets of power?”

“Yes, probably so but you yourself said you have no idea how to use it. Have you done a single magical act?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why, unfortunately?”

“It was an accident … but I killed two men.”

“You killed two men?!”

“They were of the Queen’s Guards. The first was trying to harm Leeanna. I tried to stop him but … it went too far.”

“And the second?”

“He had ridden off to report us to his people. If he had gotten away and reported us, we would have been chased down and killed. I had no choice.”

“He had ridden away? How far away was he?”

“Half a league,” Lee answers.

“Half a league?! How did you do it?”

“I … cut off his head.”

“From half a league away? Incredible!”

“I have to learn to control it, Dierdra. I don’t want to do any more harm than necessary. I don’t have much time to do it.”

“I don’t know what I can do for you. I could never kill someone as you did. I could levitate a knife but I could never make it move fast enough to do much harm. To decapitate someone with pure magic … it is beyond me.”

“But I couldn’t levitate a feather. There has to be something you can teach me.”

She sits back in her chair, peering down at her lap for several moments then she looks up.

“Perhaps there is. There are two magical effects. This is the first.” She raises her right hand and a cup floats off the shelf, stopping in front of her, tumbling end over end in midair. Suddenly, it drops to the ground, shattering.

“This is the second.”

A second cup comes off the shelf, pauses in midair, then settles softly to the top of the table. Dierdra picks it up.

“What was the difference, Alexia?”

“I … I … don’t know. One broke and the other didn’t?”

“No. Magic permits you to do unnatural things. It is a tool, just like a knife or a spoon. If you use the tool to complete the action, once the action is completed, you can remove the tool and the action stays completed. If the action is not completed, remove the tool and the job fails. A cup will not stay up in the air without the continued application of magic. Remove the magic and nature takes over, the cup falls. If you complete the action, then remove the magic, the action remains.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, oh, I know!” Lee exclaims.

Dierdra smiles at her. “What do you know, child?”

“Opulessa is a beautiful woman but she’s two hundred thirty years old. How is that possible? Look at you, you look very old and you’re not two hundred years old.”

“Leeanna!” I cry.

“Leave her be. The child is correct. I am … over forty. Go on.”

“She must use magic to look beautiful, but if she stops using magic, she’ll look all old and wrinkly. She has to use magic all the time just to keep looking beautiful.”

“What about when she sleeps?” I ask.

“She can’t ever fall completely asleep. If she did, all those things she does that require magic to fight nature would fall apart,” Dierdra answers.

“So, if you know how things work and why things happen, you can use magic to affect it permanently.”

“Exactly.”

I reach into my bag and remove the laptop. “I think I’ve got our secret weapon.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It was the third time I’d crossed over and it’s still the strangest experience in all my fifty
years. I’d made a point to stay in good shape as I got older, but picking up fifty pounds of muscle and six inches in height in an instant is an amazing sensation. That and trading my pussy for a penis.

I would never have gotten this assignment if the Earth 2 people hadn’t categorically refused to deal with a woman, which is insane because I’ve been a woman for 94.36% of my life. The twenty seven months I’ve been over here doesn’t make me a man … though it has given me a new appreciation for the differences between the sexes. My predecessor couldn’t handle the strain. She said she was losing her self identity. My schedule’s been nine months on and three months off. It’s working so far.

I just got back from my latest vacation and have an appointment to meet with the First Minister at the Palace. The Queen has her quarters in the west side of the Palace, the government offices, such as they are, are located in the east side. I think the Ministers want to stay as far away from the Queen as possible but still keep an eye on her.

After catching the first Winthrop Group wagon of the day, I arrive at the Palace by 9:15 a.m., Earth time. They have a twenty hour day or a twenty cycle day by their language. Ten before Noon and ten after, though noon is midday. Midnight is still midnight. It always takes a few weeks to get used to Earth 2 time every time I return.

Two of the Winthrop Group guards stay with me the entire way. The wagon has five guards and they have outriders front, back and both sides, all armed with M4A1 Carbines. The wagon itself is like an armor plated pill box with a .50 caliber machine gun on top, pulled by a dozen horses. It’s a rough, dusty ride into Glory.

The two guards stay with me all the way to the First Minister’s office. His Secretary greets me as I enter through the large, double wooden doors. He sits at a table surrounded by boxes of papers stacked on narrower tables that line the walls.

“Good morning, Mr. White.”

“Good morning, Dilgar. Is First Minister Dupree in?”

“Always for you, Mr. White.” He stands up from behind his desk, walks over to the wooden door and opens it. I wait for him to introduce me.

“Mr. Don White, Regional Director of the Consortium to see you, First Minister Dupree. May I show him in?”

I can see Dupree over Dilgar’s shoulder. Dupree waives me in. Dilgar steps aside, clearing the path for me. As I walk past him, he steps out, closing the door quietly behind him. Dupree stands and offers me his hand. It’s not their custom to shake hands but Dupree has adapted.

“Welcome back, White. I hope you enjoyed your trip.”

I take his hand, gripping it firmly, a male bonding rite now in both worlds.

“I did, First Minister.”

“I don’t understand why you had to return to your world. We have many scenic and attractive areas you could visit.”

“You don’t have Las Vegas.”

“I have heard your people speak of that city before. It sounds enjoyable. I would be interested in visiting if not for …”

If not for losing his dick as the price to do so. We’ve offered practically the entire Ruling Counsel the opportunity to visit Earth but not a single one has ever thought twice about accepting. The thought of becoming a woman is so abhorrent to them, curiosity about my world, no matter how strong, can’t overcome it. I think they have to suppress a certain amount of revulsion to deal with me.

The Consortium makes it worth their while.

“You know that the offer remains open, First Minister. Just say the word.” I enjoy picking at that sore.

He looks down, shuffling papers on his desk, the suggestion clearly making him very uncomfortable. “Perhaps some other time … or perhaps the people who operate Las Vegas might like to visit us here. Help us duplicate their success in our world.”

I smile at his proposal. Dupree is always trying to get more from our world as long as it isn’t technology. They all fear the introduction of technology to their world almost to the same degree as they fear the sex change coming to our world. Almost.

“We can’t have a bunch of entertainment moguls seeing this world, First Minister. The existence of the portals must be kept secret at all costs.”

That’s the Consortium’s big fear. That someone on our side discovers what we’re doing and all we’ve done so far to keep the secret. A lot of people have disappeared over the years to protect that little secret.

“I appreciate your concerns, White, but I don’t see how you can keep such a thing secret. My government has to be eternally vigilant to protect our secrets and we don’t always succeed.”

“Governments can’t keep secrets, First Minister. Businesses can. We have different goals and objectives than governments, a different reward and punishment system. We can also move faster and more efficiently.”

He lifts a file off his desk. “Speaking of efficiency, here are the production figures from last month. I believe you shall be pleased.” I take it from his hand and leaf through it. “You will see new records in several categories.”

“Why is that?”

“We added a third shift to the Shellcrest mine. The lights you delivered were finally installed. We can now go twenty cycles a day.”

“Do you have the extra people?”

“Not enough yet but that problem will soon be resolved. There are a number of debt workers arriving in the next few days.”

“Women and children?”

“But of course.”

“What about men?”

“Men should not work along with women. It causes problems.”

He’s a real bastard, they all are but he gets the job done and that’s all the Consortium cares about. It’s depressing.

“Did I miss anything important while gone?”

Dupree frowns. “Just the Queen’s circus.”

“You mean a circus with acrobats, clowns and animals?”

“Not exactly. There were acrobats, of a sort and several kinds of animals, broadly speaking, at least until the Queen tired of them. It will only get worse as we near her birthday. Every year it’s the same thing. Her demands get wilder and wilder until it peaks on her birthday. It is as if she is trying to exceed Alexia herself.”

“Alexia?”

“You would not know of this. In the days before time there were Zaphod and Jillian, our great gods. But then came Alexia, a goddess of great beauty but no morals. She tempted Zaphod and, though he was a god, he was also a man and did what any man would do, he succumbed to her charms. Alexia was extraordinarily skilled and Zaphod became very enamored of her. Despite their frequent and extended couplings, Jillian waited for Zaphod to return to her, as a good wife should. Eventually, Zaphod discovered that Alexia was sharing her bed with others. He banished her and returned to Jillian, who welcomed him back with open arms. The poet Syzlack has written several lengthy and detailed poems describing the activities of Zaphod and Alexia. They are quite popular.”

“I can imagine. So Zaphod is …”

“The father of our world.”

“And Alexia is …”

“The greatest whore of all time. You should read Syzlack. Very entertaining.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Concentrate, Alexia!”

“I AM!”

“I am beginning to think you didn’t kill those men. You can’t even fold this sheet.”

“Can it, Dierdra.”

I had spoken with Johnathyn and we agreed that it was best that Dierdra join us and help train me as we drove onto Glory. She was willing to help and we couldn’t hang around Wintsead for very long. She wouldn’t leave until Tarryn had sufficiently recovered from her whipping, which took five days. She hadn’t fully recovered but she was past the danger zone so Dierdra was comfortable enough with her progress for us to leave.

I had continued to work on my skills while waiting to hit the road. I quickly got the hang of levitating things. Pieces of paper. Forks. Spoons. Knives. A chair, then two chairs, finally Johnathyn sitting in a chair.

He was a little nervous about that one. He wouldn’t let me try our wagon.

Now that we were back on the road, Dierdra was upping the challenge. She had me trying to fold a sheet while keeping it up in the air. So far, I’ve only been able to wad it into a ball. It’s been frustrating.

“Rest a moment, Alexia. You are too upset.”

“Fine.” I let the sheet fall from the air, landing on a pile of blankets.

She reaches out, patting my leg. “You have been working hard. Don’t worry, you will get it eventually.”

“How long did it take you?”

“That is not a fair comparison. I had to struggle for years to lift anything. You have come far in a few days.”

“But not far enough.”

“No, but I think it will be good for you. You will learn from the struggle. The more I consider it, the more I think that Opulessa’s power has handicapped her.”

I pull a handkerchief from the pocket of my skirt and wipe the sweat from my forehead. Concentration can be hard work. “What do you mean?”

“When you have little power, you need to be careful how you use it, you must not waste any.”

“You mean you have to be efficient.”

“I am not familiar with that word.”

“Being efficient means squeezing the most out of what you’ve got.”

“Yes, exactly. When you have so much power, you don’t need to be ‘efficient’, you can accomplish your objective easily. But what happens if you become stressed, if you are overwhelmed?”

“I know what you mean, though kind of in reverse. When computers first came out, they didn’t have much memory, much power. The programmers had to work really hard to get their programs to do all they wanted. They were always running up against limited resources. In order for them to succeed, they had to make their programs simple but elegant, no unnecessary steps, no dead ends. The problem that developed was that as machines became faster, more powerful, the limitations were lifted. Programmers could stuff more things into the code and the code could be sloppy. They didn’t care about beauty, about efficiency. All it had to do was work, at least at first. Sloppy programming led to buggy programs and crashing computers. More power led to crappy programs which led to pissed off users and you’ve got no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

She smiles ruefully. “I am afraid not but it appears we understand each other. I suggest that you return to your training but that we stop to visit the Miryian Waters when we pass.”

“The what?”

Johnathyn spins around on the bench. “Are we near the Waters?”

“Yes. This road will take us past them in a few cycles, just about time to stop for the evening meal.”

Leeanna is sitting next to Johnathyn. She begins to clap her hands. “Father! Can we stop? Do we have the time?”

“I do not see why not. I have always wanted to see the Miryian Waters.”

“What’s the big deal?” I ask.

“The Miryian Waters is a place of healing. Of miracles,” he says.

CHAPTER NINE

Ours was not the only wagon at the entrance to the Miryian Waters. There were five wagons similar to Johnathyn’s, plus several smaller ones and one very large one, all sitting in what could best be called a gravel parking lot off the side of the road. There’s a wooden shack standing next to a gravel path that wanders away from the parking lot. Several clotheslines are arranged behind the shack, about half full of what looks like towels. There is a distinct smell of sulfur in the air and I can see smoke rising from behind a group of low hills in the direction that the path is headed.

“Are these hot springs?” I ask.

“They certainly are warm, very soothing, medicinal for some people” says Dierdra.

“So you’ve been here before.”

“Twice. You can rent a towel over there,” she points at the shack, “and walk down the path to the Waters. This is not the time of year when they are busiest.”

“I can imagine.” It feels like it’s only about the high Forties right now, and getting colder as the sun starts to set.

A man approaches as Johnathyn brings the wagon to a stop.

“Welcome to Miryian Waters, friend. How many in your wagon?”

“Four, three adults and one child,” Jonathan replies.

“We have plenty of spots but we will be closing shortly after nightfall.”

“Then we best hurry.”

Leeanna had already leapt from the wagon and was bouncing with excitement. “Hurry, Father! Hurry!”

“Calm yourself, Leeanna. We have plenty of time. Don’t run off. Wait for Dierdra and Alexia.” He helps Dierdra out of the wagon while I jump out.

We all amble towards the shack, Leeanna leading but Johnathyn isn’t far behind her. I guess that in a world that doesn’t have movies, television, DVDs or the internet, a big pond of hot water may pass as entertainment. By the time Dierdra and I reach the shack, Johnathyn has already paid for four large, white, surprisingly soft and fluffy towels.

Lee grabs his hand and pulls him down the path. Johnathyn simply shrugs his shoulders, allowing her to do so. She couldn’t move him with a bulldozer if he didn’t want to, so it’s just a game he’s playing. He’d be running down the path if he could get away with it. They round a turn in the path and disappear behind a small mound covered in tall grasses.

“Men,” says Dierdra.

“And children,” I add.

“Sometimes one and the same.” She tosses her towel over her shoulder and follows them down the path. I fall into step with her.

“When you say medicinal, do people actually drink the water?”

“No. Well, some might but the taste is not good. It would not kill you if you did drink it, but even the few who do drink the water do it without enjoyment.”

“So people just sit around in hot water? What’s the difference between that and a hot bath?”

“Some say there is no difference but others claim to have been cured.”

“Any double blind studies?”

“Some claim to have their sight restored.”

“That’s not what I meant … never mind.”

We continue to walk along the path as it winds through the mounds, tall bushes popping up here and there. Several people pass us, heading back the other way, their hair wet and skin pink. They are all smiling. Some of them walk with a limp or don’t walk at all, they are being carried. Others have arms in slings or other parts of their bodies bandaged. But they are all smiling, some through obvious pain.

“Exactly what kind of problems are these waters supposed to cure, Dierdra?”

“Everything from a hang nail to paralysis.”

“Doesn’t this world have doctors, nurses?”

“Who are they?”

“People who care for the ill and injured. People who figure out what is wrong with a person and then give them something that fixes the problem.”

“Ahh yes, Healers. We have them. I am one. It is just that sometimes, we do not have an answer.”

“Do you have antibiotics available?”

“Again, I do not understand.”

Just then, a man passes us, returning to the parking lot, his arm clearly swollen and infected. I could smell it even over the increasing strength of the sulfur odor. He smiles and nods at us as he passes. I wait until he turned the corner.

“Did you SEE that?”

“Yes. Poor man. Hopefully, the waters will give him some relief.”

“Relief?! He’ll be lucky if he only loses that arm! He needs antibiotics right NOW!”

“I am sure that he has seen whomever he could for his problem. Did you see how he was dressed? A man who dresses like that can afford the best care. We are here.”

We round the last bend and I see a large, flat, stone area, at least three square acres. There are hundreds of shallow pools, some large, some small, carved out of the stone. I bend down, rubbing my hand across the surface. It’s warm to the touch but it feels like sandstone. It wouldn’t be so hard to carve it into theses assorted pools. Each pool is interconnected, so the water flows from one to the other. They are all arranged around a larger central pool of water that is bubbling, gasses and steam rolling off the surface and floating slowly upward until it clears the surrounding hills and then they follow the prevailing wind. The whole area seems to be the lowest point in a large depression. Looking back up the path, I can now see that it gently drops down from the parking lot, like one very long winding wheelchair ramp.

Beside each pool is a thick pole in the ground, standing about six feet high, with pegs sticking out, angled upward. There are about a dozen pools currently occupied, clothes hanging from the pegs. Some hold only one person, others two or three, still others look like an entire family. It’s a little hard to see the whole place because the swirling steam and gasses block the view. The odor is almost overwhelming. If you’ve got a cold, this would certainly clear a congested nose in seconds.

“Over here, Alexia!”

That’s Johnathyn’s voice. It’s coming from my left. The steam is particularly thick over that way.

“Here’s the path,” says Dierdra. We start walking that way but I still can’t see him.

“Where are you, Johnathyn?” I shout.

“This way. We are not far,” he answers.

We keep walking along, the fog completely obscuring our view at times but only for a moment as it swirls around. The air is getting hotter and my clothes increasingly uncomfortable.

“We are here.” Johnathyn’s voice again, but much closer. I turn to my right and see his face and chest. I smile.

“Well, there you … are …” The breeze whips the last of the steam away from his naked body.

Completely naked. Full frontal.

Damn.

Dierdra starts to undress.

“Wait one cotton picking minute. No one said anything about being naked!”

“What did you think it would be, Alexia?” she asks.

“I don’t know … bathing suits?”

“What are bathing suits?” asks Lee. She was already in the water, slowly moving her arms about, creating swirls of steam around her.

“Hold it! Johnathyn, you’re getting in the same pool as your naked daughter?!”

They all look at me like I’m an idiot.

“That is what you do at the Miryian Waters. It is the custom,” says Dierdra.

“Since when?!”

“Since always,” Johnathyn replies. “You are creating a scene, Alexia. I am sorry that we did not explain this to you. That is our fault. I sometimes forget about your situation. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can always return to the wagon but you will be missing one of the better experiences in this world.”

By now, Dierdra has hung all her clothes on one of the pegs of the pole next to the pool. She steps gingerly into the pool.

“OOOowww! You picked a hot one!”

“I know,” Lee giggles.

It takes Dierdra several seconds to ease down into the water, but as she settled in, she smiles and sighs blissfully. Johnathyn steps next to me. I fight to keep my eyes focused on his.

“It is your choice Alexia. We don’t have that much time left but, if you wish, I will dress and guide you back to the wagon.”

He would too. He’d probably been looking forward to this his entire life, there were only a few hours left, at best, and he’d spend a chunk of it walking me back to the wagon. Hell, he’d likely insist on it. I reach for the tie on my cape.

“Crap. When in Rome.”

“What?”

“Go on and get in the water, big boy. I’ll be there soon.”

Johnathyn laughs, turns and ever so slowly drops down into the pool, as if he is savoring the experience. Unfortunately, now that all three of them are in the pool, I have an audience.

Leeanna had seen me naked before. The night of my arrival at their house, at the “Black Horse Inn” and semi-naked other times when we took hot sponge baths on the road. Johnathyn was never present when any of that happened. I wasn’t comfortable about being undressed with Leeanna around but I accepted the necessity. Here, in this world, I was acting like her step-mother. To freak out about a little mother/daughter skin would seem weird, and, to be honest, seeing her naked didn’t do anything for me, except surprise me. I mean, she’s just a kid. I was into grown women back on home, not little kids, girls or boys. I was more worried what she thought about me. She knew that I used to be a man. I was afraid she might think I’d be getting off, seeing her without clothes … which I didn’t!

You’d think I’d be more worried about Dierdra seeing me naked. We’re practically strangers. She’s a woman and I’m a man … at least I think like a man. I see this world with a man’s eyes, even though that’s the only thing male about me right now. But no.

It’s Johnathyn who has me most bothered. I’ve been naked with guys before. Who hasn’t had gym class at school? I played sports too. It wasn’t a big deal then. Why is it a big deal now? I can’t explain it. He’s playing it cool, just relaxing, laying back in the water, not even paying attention to me. There are lots of other people around but they’re already naked themselves, besides, with the steam and gasses, you can’t see much unless you’re right on top of someone.

I could ask Johnathyn to close his eyes or look away but that would be making a scene. Something I want to avoid. Best do it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

I kick off my shoes while I take off my cape, hanging it on a peg. I pull my petticoat down next, stepping out of it, dusting it off and hang it on a second peg. I glance over towards the pool but Johnathyn and Lee are talking about something. I take the opportunity to hastily drop my drawers then pull my dress over my head, leaving me in a cotton chemise. When I look back at Johnathyn, he’s still not paying attention so I grab the edges of the chemise with both hands and lift it off over my head.

I manage to keep from immediately covering myself with my hands, though I desperately want to, as if it is instinctual. I always hated seeing a woman do that, it seemed so … submissive, hunched over, cowering, desperately trying to cover body parts with other body parts. Screw that. I walk over to the edge of the pool and dip my right foot in.

I instantly jump back “JUDAS PRIEST! You could boil a lobster in there!” Johnathyn stares at me. I fight to keep my hands at my side, balling them up into fists.

He smiles at me. “Something wrong, Alexia?”

“No. It’s just hotter than I thought it was.”

“Come in slowly, Dear,” Dierdra suggests. “Give yourself time to adjust.”

We don’t have five years, Dierdra. I extend my right foot again, barely touching the water near a shallow edge. It’s actually a little cooler, though still insanely hot. If they can do it, I can do it. Pushing my foot in further, it touches a sloped side. I can just very slowly slide towards the middle. The stone feels cooler than the water. Clenching my teeth, I continue to gradually lower myself into the water, pausing for a moment when a new part touches the near boiling water. First it’s my left foot, then my butt, quickly followed by my vagina.

That’s a treat.

Eventually, after what seems like hours under everyone’s watchful eyes, I settle in near Dierdra, who looks surprised.

“Would you prefer to sit with your Husband?”

“Not right now. Thanks anyway. If I move I’m afraid I’d explode in flames.”

“What a girl!” Leeanna exclaims.

“Now Lee, Alexia has never done this before.”

“Neither have we, Father!”

“Well then, she may be more sensitive. We are all different.”

“Thanks a lot.” Actually, once I get settled in, the pain subsides and I start to feel more relaxed. I even shift around a bit to find a more comfortable position for my head.

“They should have some kind of waterproof pillow. It would make this whole thing more comfortable.”

“I have a very good spot right here, Alexia. You are free to try it,” Johnathyn says.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t want to be a bother.”

He slides away from his spot towards me. “Nonsense, it is no bother. Just try it.”

“Fine.”

The pool is only about four feet deep at its deepest. I can’t cross over to where Johnathyn is without making body contact with him. A lot of contact. My shoulders and back touch his thighs and, as we pass each other, I can feel his dick slide down my spine where it rests in my ass crack, briefly, as our bodies turn together and then we’re past one another.

“How do you like it?”

“Give me a chance to adjust … oh yeah, I see what you mean. It’s very nice.”

“Not what you expected?”

“Not at all.”

I try to stay submerged as much as possible but the heat is too much, forcing me to rise up. Looking around the basin at the other people, I notice something unusual.

“Dierdra, no one shaves their legs.”

“What, Dear?”

“No one shaves their legs. I hadn’t had a chance to see it until now. Leeanna didn’t but she’s too young. With all the long dresses, this is the first time I’ve had a chance to see naked legs.”

Dierdra is confused. “Why would a person remove the hair from their legs? It is still quite cold. Hair is useful in keeping warm.”

“Not the men, just the women. Why don’t they shave their legs?”

“Why would anyone shave their legs, man or woman?” asks Johnathyn.

“It looks better, all sleek and smooth,” I answer.

“It does?” he responds.

I want to argue the point then realize that it’s better if I drop it. Why fight to convince someone to act in a way that I’d rather not do in the first place.

Johnathyn is looking hard at my legs. “Perhaps you could show us what you mean, Alexia.”

“Never mind, Johnathyn. My mistake.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The manager came back to us and said that time was up, that he was closing for the day. We had only been there about an hour and a half. Johnathyn was clearly disappointed, as was Lee. I wouldn’t have minded another hour or so myself. One of the men with another group had to be carried, he couldn’t move his legs. Johnathyn jumped right in to help. Totally typical for him.

All of the large wagons left were staying parked for the night, as was one of the smaller ones. A total of five. The people in the small wagon didn’t seem equipped for an overnight stay, not with the weather as cold as it was. Dierdra went around and arranged a kind of pitch in supper for the entire group.

Turns out that they were all fairly nice people. One group was like us, just passing by and wanting the experience. The other three had people with medical problems. The guy who couldn’t walk, the man with the infected arm and a woman with lung problems. It sounded like the woman might have Tuberculosis. The guy who couldn’t walk had a bad fall, probably broke his back. The last guy cut his arm in a fight of some kind. I think Dierdra was right, he might be rich. He had a very fancy rig. Kind of a horse drawn RV. He had fresh meat, rabbit, for the pitch in. Very popular. He also had a brand of Klatch that impressed the men. Must have been top of the line. Naturally, the women didn’t get a taste. We probably didn’t miss much.

We were all gathered around one large communal fire and I was getting pretty comfortable when Johnathyn came up behind me and leaned down next to my right ear.

“I need the use of your flashlight,” he whispers.

“Why?” I whisper back.

He doesn’t answer right away, then whispers “Come with me … please.”

What can I do? He said the magic word. I get up and follow him back to our wagon. He stops just outside the back.

“What’s the big mystery?” I ask.

“I intend to go back to the Waters tonight.”

“They’re closed.”

“We will be leaving in the morning and I may never have another chance. I can likely find my way in the dark but your flashlight would help.”

“How much Klatch have you had tonight?”

He chortles. “You sound just like a true wife, Alexia. I have only had two cups. It has not affected my judgment. Dierdra is here to watch Leeanna. Why don’t you join me?”

“But they’re closed!”

“And you call yourself an Anarchist.”

Well, he’s got me there. At least he didn’t call me chicken.

“Alright. Exactly what do you have in mind?”

“I just want to sit and relax for an hour or so.”

That does sound kinda fun. It’s not like I haven’t broken and entered before.

“Okay, you’re on. We’ll need towels.”

He reaches over the end of the wagon and picks up a bag.

“I have everything we need except for that flashlight.”

“We need? You must have been pretty confident.”

He shrugs. “I think I know my Wife well.”

“Well enough … for now. I’ll tell Dierdra.”

“Make certain Leeanna doesn’t find out. She will want to join us.”

“You don’t have three towels in that bag?”

“Just two.”

“Fine. Wait for me here.”

“Don’t be long.”

I carefully return to the group around the fire. There are two children about Lee’s age, a boy and a girl. She’s been busy all evening with them. She’s a talker. She’ll be fine without us for awhile. I squat next to Dierdra.

“Johnathyn wants to go back to the Waters tonight.”

“It is closed, the manager said so.”

“I know but it’s not like there’s anything to break or steal. It’s a bunch of hot puddles for Zaphod’s sake. He said he may never get another chance.”

“Are you going with him?”

“Yes … but it’s no big deal.”

“Did he ask you to come with him?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a couple of guys, hanging out.”

“He doesn’t think of you as a ‘guy’. Nor are you a ‘guy.’”

“I know, female plumbing and all that, but I’m still a guy inside.”

“Alexia, you are not. I can sense how you feel about the world, about Leeanna … about Johnathyn. It is as if you were her mother … and his wife.”

“You’re crazy! We’ve never done anything like that! Not even close!”

“A shame. He is a very attractive man. And a good provider. And father. I did not say you feel as a lover towards him, but as a wife. In this world, they are not necessarily one and the same. I have known many happy couples in my time, more unhappy ones. You and Johnathyn are not unlike them.”

I’ll humor her. “Are we happy or unhappy?”

“Too early to tell. Why don’t you go find out? I will watch Leeanna, your daughter.”

“Ha. Ha. Funny witch. You should be on Letterman. We’ll be back soon.”

Standing up, I slowly work my way back to our wagon, not wanting to attract attention. Johnathyn is leaning against the wagon gate. He really is a big guy. I remember him standing next to the pool earlier today when the smoke suddenly cleared.

A really big guy.

“What did she say?” he asks.

“About what?”

“About watching Lee. What else is there?”

“She said she would. There wasn’t anything else.”

“Then what took so long?”

“I didn’t want to attract attention. We are sneaking off, remember?”

“Yes, good idea. We had better wait to use the flashlight until we are past the first set of hills.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

He grabs the bag and we move off, saying nothing as we carefully walk across the gravel, trying to tread lightly. It’s a half moon but there are few clouds so we can see pretty well, particularly with the white gravel as our guide. There’s no gate of any kind, just a closed and locked towel shack to indicate they are closed. Not even a “Closed” sign. I almost don’t feel the old thrill of an illegal act. We make several turns before running into some fog. Johnathyn switches on the light. It was never intended to be a really powerful beam, more general purpose, but it does help. We manage to get within fifty feet or so of the nearest pools before the fog gets so thick that I can’t see anything.

“Johnathyn!” I hiss. “Where are you? I can’t see a damn thing!”

“It is as expected. Hot, moist air. Colder temperatures.”

“Thank you Mister Weather Man. Where are you?” I feel his large hand gently encase mine.

“I am here. Do we go on?”

“Sure, just don’t lead us into some boiling pit of doom.”

Now I can see why there was no gate or sign. Most people would have stopped by now. Johnathyn pulls at my hand and I follow, heart pounding, waiting to step into a hole. The fog grows thicker with each step.

“Johnathyn, where the hell are we?”

“Don’t worry, Alexia, we are almost there.”

“How can you possibly know …”

Just then, we step out of the fog into crystal clear air. We’re almost in the exact spot we were earlier today but there are fog walls surrounding the pools with a fog ceiling. It’s an inversion of some kind, creating this pocket of clear but sulfurous air. What’s weirder is that the moss that grows between the pools is glowing, a soft, yellow light, illuminating the entire area.

“By Zaphod’s beard … “Johnathyn gasps.

“Ditto.”

“Have you ever seen such a sight, Alexia?”

“No, I haven’t. It’s … it’s ..” Go ahead and admit it. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Johnathyn looks over at me and smiles. “Ditto.”

I shake my head and laugh. We walk among the pools until he stops at one built for two.

“Shall we?”

“Why not?”

I realize that we are still holding hands. Johnathyn brings our linked hands up to my shoulder height then slowly opens his fingers, letting my hand slip free. We undress at the same time, our backs turned towards each other. As I hang my chemise upon the peg, I can feel my heart pounding. It’s more than we shouldn’t be here, more than we shouldn’t be here together, more than I shouldn’t be naked with a handsome man in an entirely different world than I was born in. It’s more than all that put together … but I don’t know what it is.

I take several breaths, attempting to calm down, pause, then turn around to face Johnathyn.

He’s standing less than two feet away from me, looking down at me and smiling, his dick at half mast.

“That didn’t happen earlier today,” I whisper.

“What didn’t happen?” I point to his rising cock. “Oh my!” He tries to cover up but it’s hopeless. I remember being caught with a growing erection at embarrassing times. The embarrassment only makes it worse. In seconds, he’s got a full on raging boner.

“Alexia! I’m sorry …”

“Don’t worry about it. I was caught after gym class looking at a Playboy someone left in a locker. Once it started, I couldn’t stop it, no matter what I thought or did. The little guy does sometime have a mind of his own.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Though I don’t think we can call yours a ‘little guy.’”

It’s ten inches long if it’s an inch and almost six inches around. I’ve seen bigger in some porn films but not by much. With his build and looks, he’d have been a porn stallion back home. He’s blushing but hasn’t shrunk a fraction of an inch.

“Please, Alexia, you must not tell anyone about this.”

“Why not? All the other girls will be sooo jealous when I tell them how well hung my husband is. ‘My husband is hung like a horse, girls. Muscles to die for, legs like iron, shoulders that don’t stop, an ass like no other and balls the size of oranges. And he puts it to me … every … single … night. Orgasms galore.’ Why wouldn’t you want a reputation like that? They’ll be all over you when I’m gone.”

“Stop making sport, Alexia.”

“Who’s sporting? It’s all true. Well, except for the sex and orgasm part.”

“Please, Alexia?”

“Fine. It’ll be our secret, but I think you’re really missing a great opportunity. I could be the ultimate wingman.”

“What is a wingman?”

“A buddy who helps you find women. He talks you up, makes you seem more attractive, a better catch. If a woman who looked like me told a great looking woman that she had found this great guy for her, she’d be all over you. Trust me.”

“Why would I want that?”

“You know something, Johnathyn. You’re hopeless. Get in the pool before you put someone’s eye out with that thing.”

He eases in, just as before. I let him go first because there is less room in this pool than the family sized one we used before. Once he’s down, he offers me his hand to steady myself. I take it, conscious of the slippery, glowing moss all over the place. You do not want to flop into one of these pools. It takes less time to adapt this time, the relaxing effect kicking in. My heart rate has dropped back to normal. Johnathyn’s still got that big boner, though it’s down a bit, so he’s relaxing too.

We’re very close in this pool, not on top of each other but there’s not a part of either ones body that isn’t within easy reach of the other. He reaches into his bag and pulls out his small jug.

“Klatch?” I ask.

“Yes, some of what Asgrip Tylen offered.” He lifts the jug to his lips and takes a swig. “Excellent.”

“Do you really need that stuff?”

“No, but I enjoy it, from time to time.”

“Haven’t you people ever heard of beer? Or wine?”

“What are they?”

“Fermented wheat and barley or grapes. As opposed to whatever the hell you use to make Klatch.”

“Do you want to know, Alexia?”

“Probably not. Pass that bottle.”

We sit in the water, passing the jug back and forth, me taking sips and him taking drinks. With the dome of fog and the glowing moss, it’s like our own little world. With its own rules.

“Alexia, why does the moss glow as it does? Is it magic?”

“No, it’s chemistry, actually biochemistry. I studied this in school. The moss contains certain chemicals which bind together, creating an enzyme. The enzyme oxidizes when it contacts air, breaking down but giving off light as it does. There are lots of creatures that can do that in my world, many deep sea fish. I don’t think we have this particular species of moss. I’d have to check the database on the computer to be sure.”

“But how does it actually glow?”

I scoop up some with my hand and hold it out in front of me. “Look, follow along. The moss grows, using the water and chemicals in the water, plus the gasses around here. While it grows …”

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by the moss that was in my hand. I can see the chemical process taking place. The creation of the enzyme, how it breaks down, exactly as explained in my biochemistry class years ago. I reach out with my hand and slow it down, then slower still, until the process stops completely, frozen in time. I can move around, examining it all from different angles. I then reach out again and restart everything, bringing it back up to original speed. After watching for a moment or two, I speed it up a little … then a little more … then more. The glowing increases, becoming brilliant. Then it burns out, leaving the ruins of the organism around me.

I return to the pool, Johnathyn shaking my shoulders.

“Alexia?! Are you well?”

“Yeah … yeah, I am. What happened?”

“You were speaking of the moss when you grew silent. The moss stopped glowing, then came back, then became so bright that it hurt my eyes to gaze upon it. Then it suddenly went dark. That is when I shook you.”

“I did that. I turned it on and off. Sped it up and down. I was there, in the moss. I happened once before, just briefly. I was inside my computer. I could see everything, feel everything. I didn’t make any changes, it only lasted a few seconds.”

“Try it again.”

I scoop up more moss, relax, concentrate on the mass of green glop in my hand … and I’m back in, just as before. I speed up the processes and the same thing happens, a bright, blinding light, then burn out. It’s as if I’m taking all the energy reserves and releasing them in a short burst, leaving nothing behind.

“Amazing!” said Johnathyn. “Can you change it?”

“I think so, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t understand the mechanism. If I do something wrong, I could create something deadly … or so prolific it could cover the world in moss. This is the second magic effect Dierdra was talking about, a tool that can accomplish a task, changing the nature of reality and then remove the magic, while the changed system moves on. This is powerful stuff. Insanely powerful.”

“Perhaps you should stop for now?”

“Good idea … though I could use the time to practice some other magic techniques. If you’re willing.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

He takes another hit off the Klatch jug. “Go ahead. Impress me.”

I take the jug from his hands and down my own shot. “Impress you, huh? Here, in our own little world with our own rules. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Your wish is my command, Sahib.”

“What is a Sahib … oohh no, no, no … I didn’t mean …”

“Be quiet, Johnathyn. I need to concentrate. Wouldn’t want to break anything, would we?”

“No.”

I had reached out with my mind and grabbed his still hard cock, just as if I was holding a cup or folding the sheet. In my mind, it was my hand gently sliding up and down the wet shaft. It only took a few seconds and it was back to its full glory, rising above the water. I keep stroking it, the full length up, then down, repeating over and over. I can feel it in my hands, the slick, soft skin, sliding past my palms. Johnathyn is laying back against the rock edge of the pool, eyes closed, smiling wistfully. I lean in close to his ear.

“Do you like that?”

“Ohh yess.”

“Good. Keep your eyes closed. You’re gonna love this.”

I kept stroking with my hands but added my tongue to the tip, imagining that I was trying to swirl it all over the head. My lips feel the heat of the large head. It’s about the size of a golf ball. It pops into my mouth and I attack it with my tongue, lashing at it, then swirling it. Johnathyn groans several times as his breathing rate increases. I can feel the pressure of his cock against my lips and mouth, but I also know that there is nothing actually in my mouth. It is all transferred sensations, controlled by my mind.

I imagine sinking lower on his dick with my mouth, drawing him in. The pressure of his cock travels down my throat yet I have no trouble breathing. He, on the other hand, is beginning to gasp for air.

“My … oh … my … oh …. oh … Alexia”

“What?”

“How can you speak?”

“Magic. Keep your eyes closed. It gets better. I hope.”

“OH … oh … hope?”

I bob up and down for several minutes, first fast then slow, all the while I am actually sitting quietly next to Johnathyn in the pool. Eventually, I pull back, returning to a hand job. His breathing returns to where it was, fast but steady. Now, I swing my body over on top of his, rising up, resting my pussy against the tip of his cock, swinging my hips back and forth slightly until the tip settles firmly in the tight opening.

This is new for me. I haven’t even masturbated since the change. There really hasn’t been the opportunity. When have I been alone for more than a few minutes? I don’t know if my imagination can fill in all the blanks. I know what it should feel like from Johnathyn’s side but what does a woman truly feel during sex? What does it feel like to be penetrated, filled by a cock the size of his?

Our world. Our rules.

I start to drop down slowly, letting the wet pole ease past the lips of my vagina. I can feel it slip up my vaginal canal, pushing everything aside as it travels toward my uterus. Just using those words in my head makes me smile. Must be the Klatch.

Pulling partially back up, I begin to bounce up and down, slowly at first, gradually allowing more and more of his delicious cock access to my pussy, until, finally, I am stuffed full.

“Don’t move your hands, Johnathyn. It will destroy the illusion. Just let the feelings happen. Can you do that for me?”

“Yesss.”

“Good. Hold onto your hat.”

“My … hat … what …uuughh”

I begin to bounce on the full length of his big dick, pull almost the entire way up and driving down, adding the sensation of my breasts rubbing against his chest. His hands stay at his side but his fingers clutch at the air. I know that if I was in his position, my hands would be on my hips, holding on while driving up with my hips or squeezing my tits as hard as I could stand. My nipples are as hard as nails even now, the feelings of the skin on skin contact almost too much to bear, but I must keep concentrating or it all goes away.

I kick my bouncing into overdrive, alternating with rocking my hips. Johnathyn is almost there.

“Uhhh … Uhhh … UUUhhh …. UUUHHhhh …. HHHaaaa … AAAHHHhh … AAHHHH!”

He shoots cum straight up in the air, his hips thrusting up repeatedly. Stream after stream, arching high and falling back into the pool. The same pool I’m in.

Eeewww. Hadn’t thought of that. Oh well, it’s pretty hot. The little buggers won’t last long.

After a short while, his breathing falls back into the normal range. When you think about it, it’s been at least as long for Johnathyn as it’s been for me. If I couldn’t do anything because of not being alone, he’s been in the same boat. As much cum as he shot, it could have been longer.

He takes one final deep breath and exhales.

“I have never, in all my life, ever experienced something like that. Not with Leeantha, not with anyone before or since.”

“Pretty neat, huh? I’ve been working on my control and concentration. I’m getting better.”

“Did you … enjoy it as well?”

“Yeah, I did. If you mean did I get the big O, no but I wasn’t going for that. Frankly, I’m not sure how to do that in this body. Sure, I know the basics but not all the little details and secrets that no one wants to talk about. That just comes with experience. I’ve got a lot more experience with your side than mine. That’s why I knew what generally would feel good to you.”

“But you were not satisfied?”

“As much as I could be. I guess I could have waved the ol’ wand and said ‘be sexually fulfilled’ but what’s the use of that? It was fun, I enjoyed it, I picked up some new information, and you looked like you had fun too.”

“I can’t help but feel that I owe you something of equal value, though I have no idea what that could possibly be.”

“Like a post sex cuddle?”

“At the very least.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, just this once.”

He slides closer to me, extending his arm over my shoulder, pulling me tighter to him. I rest my head on his chest, letting my right arm reach across his body. This is nice, something this body … I … need. I didn’t realize it until just now. Though, again, it may be the Klatch talking.

Our world. Our rules. One night only.

That’s when the screaming started.

CHAPTER TEN

“AAAHHHHHH!! FATHERRRRR! AAAAAHHHHHH HELP ME FATHERRR!

It was Leeanna! She was out in the fog somewhere!

“I’M COMING!” screams Johnathyn as we bolt from the pool. He quickly pulls on his pants as I step into my shoes and throw my dress on over my head, leaving the rest on the pegs.

“PLEASE HURRY, FATHER OOOHHH PLEASE!”

“KEEP SHOUTING, LEEANNA! HELP US FIND YOU!”

We charge into the fog. I grab the flashlight but it’s too dense to do any good.

“HELP, FATHER! HELP ME!”

“THIS WAY! LEEANNA, KEEP SHOUTING!”

I stumble a couple of times but still manage to keep from falling down. Eventually, the fog thins a little and we can see where we are.

“LEEANNA!” Johnathyn shouts.

“Father! Help!” It’s her, but weaker than before. We run down the path. Around the corner, we find her.

She’s on her back, a big snake attached to her leg as she tries to shake it off. Johnathyn scoops up a large rock as he charges the snake. It manages to let go of Leeanna just in time for him to smash its head to pulp with several blows with the rock then tossing the body away. I run to Leeanna, kneeling down beside her. I inspect the bite mark

It’s bad, bloody and torn. There’s another one near it and a third on her arm. Either that was one determined snake or she ran into a nest. Johnathyn falls to his knees next to her.

“Leeanna, my baby, are you well?”

“Snakes father … I was just coming to … so many snakes … I’m sorry …”

She passes out and begins to tremble. Johnathyn is crying, holding her hand.

“Did you recognize the snake?” I ask.

“What?”

“What kind of snake was it? Was it poisonous?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to kill it.”

“Check and see, here’s the flashlight.”

He runs over and takes a look, then groans.

“It is Woodland Adder, very poisonous.”

“Great, and she may have been bitten by three. Okay, pick her up and …”

“Yes! We’ll take her to the Waters!”

“NO! The Waters are a joke! They couldn’t cure anything beyond dandruff. Take her back to the wagon …”

“There are no Healers for miles. She will die before then! We must pray that the Waters will save her!”

I get up in his face. “Listen to me! Curing waters are a myth, they’re a scam, total crap! Dropping Leeanna into one of those pools just guarantees that it’ll take longer for rigor mortis to set in after she dies! She’s either suffering from anaphylactic shock, neurotoxin poisoning, or both, not counting good old bacterial infection. We are taking her back to the wagon NOW!”

“Who will treat her?”

“I will.”

“YOU?! What do you know?”

“Not much now, but give me ten minutes and I’ll be able to fix her. You got a better deal?”

“She is my daughter,” he sobs. “I cannot lose her.”

“I won’t let her die, Johnathyn. Not as long as I’m the baddest ass witch in this country.”

He quickly scoops up her trembling body. “Lead.”

I take off at a dead run, flashlight showing the way, Johnathyn right on my heels. As we approach the entrance, there are several people gathered there.

“OUT OF THE WAY!” I scream.

They all scatter as we rush through. Our wagon is the farthest from the entrance. Dierdra is standing next to it.

“I heard the screaming! What happened?!”

I vault into the back of the wagon and pitch several blankets out the back.

“Snake bite. Poison. Very bad. Wrap her up, keep her warm.”

My pack is still unlocked so I yank my computer out, press the power button and then start searching through the programs for the medical encyclopedia. I find it and load it into the tray. I jump back out while it loads. Almost everyone who had been here earlier was standing around.

“Does anybody here have any experience dealing with snake bites?! Anyone? Dierdra, how about you?”

She looks frightened. “Some, but I have nothing with which to make a poultice or …”

“Poultice. Wonderful. Anybody else? No. Dierdra, I’m going back to the wagon and learn what I can about snake bites and poison in ten minutes. You keep her alive until then.”

“How?”

“I don’t care how. Take whatever power you need from me but do it. Ten minutes.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Ten minutes later, I’ve got a plan. Not necessarily a successful plan but it’s the best I can do. She’s likely allergic, that’s where the anaphylactic shock comes from, for that I want an epinephrine shot. Since we don’t have epinephrine, I’ll need to eliminate all the venom from her body. I’ve got to slow her metabolism down to limit the absorption of the about eight different toxins that are attacking almost every one of her major systems. Unfortunately, I also need to stimulate her immune system to create its own anti-venom. So the steps are; first, slow metabolism. Second, strip out toxins. Third, create anti-venom. Forth, restore metabolism. Fifth, clean out bacteria. Sixth, repair damage.

Simple.

I sit down next to Leeanna’s tightly wrapped body. She’s seizing so hard I’m afraid she might break a bone. I take Johnathyn’s hand in mine.

“Don’t panic. At first, you might think she’s dead. She’s not. It’s part of the plan. Just like the moss, I’m slowing her down to buy time. There’s lots more to worry about later on. Here goes nothin’.”

I close my eyes and try to get calm, to concentrate … but I can’t. It’s Leeanna! If I can’t do this, it’ll kill Johnathyn. If we hadn’t gone back to the Waters, she wouldn’t have come in after us. It’s our fault … my fault!

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind but it won’t work. I can feel the panic starting to build. I shake my head again, still no good. I’m running out of time! Oh God! No! I’ve got to … there’s a hand on my shoulder.

“Peace,” Dierdra whispers soothingly in my ear. “Peace …. be calm … you are a powerful witch. Peace … be calm … you will succeed … be calm … peace …” She keeps whispering. It helps. A lot. I feel a growing sense of tranquility, of confidence, of clarity. I open my eyes.

I’m in, blood rushing past me, carrying red blood cells, white cells … and molecules causing destruction to whatever they touch. That’s the venom! I raise my hands and slowly draw my fingers into fists, willing the blood to slow, her breathing rate to reduce, he pulse to drop back … back … back until all is nearly still. Just the occasional shallow breath and lub-dub of her heart.

The molecules of neurotoxin are hanging in the blood around me, floating, moving slightly every time her heart beats. I reach out and grab one. It’s an assembly of chemicals, almost crystalline. Beautiful if you ignore what it’s doing to Lee.

It disappears. I grab a second, then a third, making them also disappear. There are too many and this is taking much too long. I grab another molecule and move towards a cluster of white cells. I thrust it into their midst.

“This is the enemy, girls. Seek and destroy.”

They fall upon it, destroying it. There’s a subtle change in their appearance.

“Good. Great. We need a lot more of you.”

Suddenly, I am surrounded by masses of white cells primed to attack the neurotoxins. I move towards Leeanna’s heart but call for the white cells to come after me, to clean the venom from her system. I continue move through her circulatory system as the white cells attack the venom, moving faster as each second passes. In the end, I don’t see any more venom but I have seen blackened areas of her lungs, kidneys and even her heart.

Where ever I go, white cells follow me, attacking small pockets of venom until the cells are just floating around me. We may have gotten it all, stopping the allergic reaction. We’ll have to find out. I raise my hands again and bring her heart rate up, a little at a time, but not too far. I don’t want to stress her yet, not until I can fix her heart, lungs and kidneys. I quickly move from organ to organ, removing damaged tissue and stimulating the growth of new tissue. Concentrating on the bite sites, the white cells take out all the foreign bacteria and germs.

Making one last pass through her body, I don’t spot anything that looks broken or damaged but what do I know? This whole thing has been a crap shoot. Time to put her back online and hope for the best. Leeanna, please, for your father’s sake, get well. I raise my hands and slowly return her heart beat, and blood pressure back to normal, then close my eyes again, concentrate and pull away, the sound of her rushing blood and beating heart fading away, being replaced by the pop and crackle of the fire pit.

Opening my eyes, I see Dierdra, her hand on Leeanna’s forehead. Lee is quiet, no longer shaking violently. Her eyes flutter, then open. She smiles weakly.

“She still has a fever,” says Dierdra, “but it is slight. I think she will recover.”

I slowly stand, my legs weak and cold, my dress damp with sweat and getting chilly in the frosty air. Johnathyn drops a blanket over my shoulders then hugs me fiercely.

“Bless you, Alexia,” he whispers.

Simple. Nothing more needs to be said between us. I look at the people crowding around us, focusing on the man with the horribly infected arm and the woman with lung problems.

“Who’s next?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

A servant girl wakes me out of a very sound sleep. Unfortunately, it is at the request of the First Minister. I dress hurriedly and walk quickly to his office, which is only a hundred decileagues from my apartment in this wing of the Palace. The First Minister often works late into the night, leaving a large stack of work waiting for me in the morning, but rarely calls for me.

I knock on his door and he bids me enter. I take up my customary position at the front of his desk and wait for him to finish reading the report in his hands.

“Did you read this report, Dilgar?”

“No, First Minister. It came by courier marked for your eyes only.”

He looks up at me from his chair. “That doesn’t usually stop you.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I had other business you assigned me to attend to, Sir.”

“I suppose it is just as well. It would seem that Patron Miller has found himself a witch.”

“How is that possible, First Minister? We were assured that Miran Pegues’ mission had been thwarted.”

“Apparently those assurances from the Winthrop Group were optimistic. Pegues did return with a … woman who might be able to challenge the Queen.”

“Where is she? Should we send the Guard to capture her?”

He picks up the paper he had been reading. “My source says that no one can be certain as to where she is, not even Pegues. The attempt to kill his witch while she was still on the other side has tipped our hand. Pegues suspects a traitor and has taken steps to hide her from us while she travels to Glory. If we begin an all out search, it will only confirm those suspicions and lead to a hunt for my source among the rebels. It would be best to let the plot develop while we keep a close eye on those we can identify. As we get closer to completion, more traitors will reveal themselves.”

“There is risk in that plan, First Minister. What if your source is unable to keep you informed?”

“My source is highly placed and loyal to our cause. He is being paid more than enough to remain loyal. I have told him that, should he fail, the Queen will be informed of that failure. She has a stable full of such failures and he is well aware of it.”

I have seen that stable. The creatures that used to be men and women that reside there are more than enough to guarantee loyalty to the Queen - or the strong desire to never be caught should you fail her. Sometimes, I feel the risks of this job are simply not worth the rewards.

“So, First Minister, your plan is …”

“Watch and wait, Dilgar. Watch and wait.”

“Is there something that requires my attention, right now?”

He grins at me, but it is not a friendly grin. “Why did I have you awoken at this ungodly hour? Is that your question?”

“If you say so, Sir.”

He points to a pile of papers on the table next to his desk. It is at least half a decileague tall. “You and I will be going through those reports looking for anything unusual.”

“Just us? We have many people capable of that kind of work.”

“You mean mindless sifting of reports.”

“As you say, Sir.”

“Do we have many such people you would place your life in the hands of? People you would trust to not miss anything, people you would trust to keep silent about this search? Do we have many of such people?”

I sigh. He has a point. “No, First Minister, we do not have such people.”

“I did not think so. Have a seat and begin.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We have been on the road for well over two cycles but Alexia still sleeps soundly, despite the jarring of the wagon. Leeanna has not left her side for a second, cuddled up against her. I can understand why she still sleeps past daybreak. Last night was full of miracles.

After bringing Leeanna back from the brink of death, she proceeded to cure the woman who coughed black phlegm and the man with the badly swollen and discolored arm, the one she claimed would fall victim to a gang of green, though I don’t know what green things she was speaking of.

Alexia is not always completely clear when she speaks. It is endearing.

To top it all off, she was also able to cure the man who could not walk. She said he was the easiest of the three, just reconnected what she called his spinal cord. He was awake as she did it, responding when she asked him to move this part of his leg or foot. After a few adjustments, he was able to stand and, with a little help, walk.

I have never been a part of a more joyous celebration. The families could not offer Alexia enough and she refused it all. She was so tired that she had to sit and rest before finally falling asleep. Leeanna insisted on preparing her for bed and Alexia didn’t complain. When we awoke this morning, the other wagons had departed but they had left gifts of food, money or other goods in thanks. They could do no less, despite Alexia’s request.

Dierdra is accompanying me as I drive the wagon towards Sweetwater, our next destination where I am to meet Miran Pegues and provide information concerning Alexia’s progress. I feel guilty about keeping my meetings with Pegues secret from her. Not exactly secret but I have not been completely truthful with her. It bothers me, particularly after what she did for me last night. Both before and after the attack by the snakes.

“She still sleeps,” says Dierdra.

“Are you surprised?”

“That she sleeps? No. That she was able to cure all those people? Yes, your daughter included. Once I saw her, I was certain there was no hope. My guilt was overwhelming. You had entrusted her to my care and I had failed. She had asked me where the two of you had gone and I told her but that she was to wait with the others at the fire. She did not obey.”

“It is her nature to question everything.”

“I should have suspected as much, but did not. Her screams for help …” Dierdra shudders, “I could not describe my anguish.”

“Nor could I. To be honest, I was frozen with fear when I first saw her. I would have taken her back to the Waters if Alexia had not insisted she could save her. She was very insistent. Very. I have never had a woman be so forward with me.”

“Alexia would also insist that she is not a woman.”

“I do not know about that.” I glance back where she and Leeanna are sleeping. “She cares for Leeanna as any mother would.”

“Or as any father would.”

“Perhaps you are right but I cannot think of her as anything but a strong, remarkable woman.”

“Who is a powerful witch.”

“Is she that powerful?”

“Not quite yet, but her power grows along with her ability to control it. In truth, I have never heard of Opulessa curing people as Alexia did last night.”

“Has she ever tried?”

“Perhaps not. It would not seem to be her nature, to care for others.”

“Not as Alexia does. Did you know that she cared for both her mother and brother in the other world? Her mother had a problem with their kind of Klatch and her brother was looked down upon by society, though I am not exactly certain why that was. Alexia was as a mother to them. Possibly she was fated to come to this world? To embrace her true nature?”

“That is possible, though she does not think much of fate. She believes that one should have control in their life.”

“So she has told me. Many times.”

“What did the two of you do when you returned to the Waters?”

“Just as before, though the smoke and fumes were all around us, yet we had clear air surrounded by the thick air. There was glowing moss all around us, providing enough light to see. It was quite amazing.”

“Is that all you did?”

“Alexia practiced her magic by … moving things.”

“What things?”

“Different things. I really do not wish to say more.”

“I will ask her when she wakes.”

“She may not wish to say any more than I have.”

“Then I will have my answer.”

“I do not understand women.”

“Oh you understand women better than you think you do,” says Alexia.

We both turn to look. She is sitting up, stretching and rubbing her eyes. Her hair is mess. She pushes and pulls at it, moving it away from her mouth and eyes, eventually getting it clear of her face and pushed past her ears. She looks down at Leeanna who is lying next to her, gently stroking her hair.

“Is she alright?”

“Yes, Alexia, thanks to you,” Dierdra answers.

“I was lucky. Didn’t have near enough time to completely figure out what was going on. Got what I could and winged the rest. We were all lucky last night. I couldn’t have done it without your help Dierdra. That calming, whispering thing really worked. I was about to freak out just before you started it. Mellowed me out nicely.”

“I am glad it helped. It is quite useful to calm young mothers as they go into labor. I would be honored to attend you when you give birth to your first child.”

“That may be a very long time in the future. Like never. What have you two been talking about while I’ve been asleep?”

Dierdra looks at me, a satisfied smile on her face. “I have my answer, Johnathyn.”

Women!

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER ELEVEN

We pull into Sweetwater at around 12 cycles, I think. We don’t have a clock, though most towns seem to have a big town clock. Another sign of an almost complete lack of tech. They don’t have mail or newspapers either. Information seems to pass strictly by word of mouth, which, as we all know, is really reliable.

The town got its name from the decent water from its wells. Low in iron and minerals so naturally soft or “sweet”. It’s a heck of a lot nicer looking place than Shellcrest but just about as big, though it’s shaped more like a typical city instead of running along the top of a ridge. It has a center city square, a business district, an upper crust neighborhood and a not so nice neighborhood.

Johnathyn has a meeting with another contact this evening, again at a bar. I don’t even try to argue with him this time. I’d like to meet this contact of his because I’ve got questions but there are more important things to do tonight. Dierdra has a friend who lives in Sweetwater, another witch who is also a Healer, what passes as a doctor in this world. I don’t mean that sarcastically. After what I’ve seen, anyone willing to pitch in and try to help people in this world is okay by me.

Ever since the snake bite incident a couple of days ago, Lee won’t leave me but for a few minutes. When we first met, she was naturally curious about me, an outsider. The ultimate outsider in fact. She had a lot of questions. I let her use the laptop primarily to shut her up. We became friendly, more like girlfriends. Then Johnathyn began to defer to me for keeping her in line so I became more of a parental figure; enforcing bed time, eat your vegetables, clean up the wagon, that sort of thing. She didn’t resent it, she actually seemed to prefer it, like she now had a mom and a dad. Then came the incident with the soldiers. After that, it was like she wanted nothing to do with me. I assumed it was the shock of seeing someone killed right before her eyes, but I think there was more to it than that. I think she was afraid of me.

Can’t blame her for that. I was a little afraid of myself too.

Now, I’ve got a shadow, a helpful shadow, but a shadow nonetheless. If I tell her I need to talk with Johnathyn or Dierdra in private, she’ll happily oblige but then she’s right back as soon as we’re finished. At least she does what I say without any back talk. That’ll probably wear off fairly soon.

We have reservations at another decent inn, the “White Herron” this time. It’s only for three people so Johnathyn pops for a second room for Dierdra. I think he got the money from the rich guy whose arm I saved. He wanted to pay that night but I wouldn’t accept it, apparently violating some custom or another. As I had just proven I was a damn kick ass witch, they didn’t argue with me then but left stuff at our wagon that night before splitting. Johnathyn was impressed by the amount of cash in the pouch he left behind.

He should see what I’ve got sewn into the padded straps of my backpack.

With Dierdra here, I’m not going to force another family meal in the bar so we “girls” eat in our room while Johnathyn dines and drinks alone. It still pisses me off, but both Lee and Dierdra are more comfortable this way so I decide to save that fight for later. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

As soon as Johnathyn leaves, we head for Dierdra’s’ friends place. Her name is Beckwith and lives on the edge of the not so nice part of town. Johnathyn wasn’t too happy about us going without him but I reminded him which of us had recently taken care of two armed guards. He made me promise to be more cautious in the use of my powers this time.

It took about twenty decicycles, their version of minutes, to reach Beckwith’s house, which looks like a combination of a home and a clinic. She is working on a woman with a broken arm when we get there. The two women touch foreheads, then hug each other.

“Beckwith, it has been too long.”

“It has, my friend, much too long. Who do you have with you?”

“This is Leeanna Tyber and her mother, Alexia Tyber.” Leeanna smiles and hugs my arm. Dierdra continues. “Alexia is another friend.”

“I thought she might be.” The woman Beckwith had left to see us moans in pain. “If you will pardon me, I must deal with this immediately. We can talk when I am done.”

“May I?” I ask.

Beckwith looks first at me, then towards Dierdra. “Can she?”

Dierdra smiles reassuringly. “Yes, she certainly can.”

I step forward and gently cradle the broken arm in my hands. The girl winces. She is not that much older than I am. She looks worried about a stranger working on her.

“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt.”

It is easier to go into my trance than before. The broken bone is crystal clear in my mind, but it is not a straight, clean break. It is a spiral break. Someone twisted this girls arm. Violently twisted it until it broke. I can also see bruising at the break and around the wrist. Out of curiosity, I check her neck, through the scarf she is wearing. Bruises there too. Repairs first, questions later.

“I was wrong. This will hurt a bit but you will be as good as new in a few decicycles.”

“What do you … ahh ahhh aahh!”

I twist her arm ever so slightly to align the bones correctly, causing her to cry out in pain. I need to work on a pain killer. As quickly as I can, I bridge the gaps with new bone growth then clear out the clotted blood from the bruises and repair the blood vessels. I give her a quick once over to look for other damage. I don’t see anything unusual but do see that she’s pregnant. The fetus isn’t very large and I can’t tell the sex. At least not visually. Focusing in on the fetus, I concentrate on a single cell, then the nucleus of the cell and finally the chromosomes of that cell. Two XX’s. It’s a girl.

I draw back from her body and release her arm.

“There, good as new, though I’d take it easy for a week or so, just to make sure. Keep the arm in a sling and don’t lift anything heavy. Make sure you eat lots of leafy green vegetables, plenty of iron. Of course, you’ll want to do that anyway, right?”

“I - I do not understand.”

I motion for Dierdra and Beckwith to join me a few feet away.

“She’s pregnant,” I whisper. “It’s a girl. Should I tell her?”

“How did you mend her arm? How do you know this?” asks Beckwith.

“The arm I can explain later. The pregnancy, I saw it. Two X chromosomes means it’s a girl, unless your biology is way different than mine.”

“What are these krome-o-zones you speak of?”

Dierdra touches her arm. “If Alexia says it is so, it is so.”

“Also, someone has been abusing this girl and I want to know who and why.”

Beckwith eyes me suspiciously. “Why do you say this?”

“Because I took some criminology classes in college, mostly for self-defense purposes when the law came looking for me, but they also dealt with abuse cases. Spiral breaks are almost always from abuse. They can be caused by other things but you add the bruises on the wrist and neck and the odds scream abuse. And I’m tired of this shit. Someone’s gonna pay. Now.”

Dierdra moves her hand from Beckwith’s arm to mine.

“Alexia, we do not want trouble, not now. Let us talk to the girl …”

“Minerva,” says Beckwith.

“With Minerva and see where it leads. Just remain calm. Do nothing, Alexia. Please.”

I look at Dierdra, then at Lee, who is sitting quietly in the corner, straining to hear our conversation. She smiles at me when she sees me look her way.

“Alright. Nothing. For now.” We turn back towards Minerva, who is rubbing the spot of the break with her left hand.

“The pain is practically gone and I can use my arm. How is this possible?”

“Miracle of modern medicine. How did you break that arm?” I ask.

She looks away and down. “I fell.”

“And the bruises on your wrist?” I ask.

“When I fell.”

I persist. “And your neck?”

She reaches up and touches the scarf wound tightly around her neck but says nothing. Dierdra gently removes her hand from the scarf, cradling it in her hand.

“We only wish to help, child.”

“I am not a child. I am a married woman.”

“Thank Zaphod for that,” I say. “I assume your husband knows you’re pregnant.”

“I am?!” she gasps.

“You didn’t know?”

“I … I thought I might be, but I was not certain. Are you certain?”

“Yeah, I’m certain. Do you want to know if it is a boy or a girl?”

“You know that?”

“I do. The question is, do you want to know?”

She hangs her head for a moment or two, then looks around the room at each of us. “No. Let it be a surprise for us.”

“Fine by me. Did your husband break your arm, Minerva? I know someone did, it sure as hell wasn’t a fall.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. “It was my father.”

“Why would your father do such a thing?” Beckwith asks.

“Because I disobeyed him. He had sold me to a business friend of his but I did not love him. I loved my husband, Iskirk. We ran away and were married. That was a year ago. Now my father has found me.”

SOLD?! “Where is Iskirk?”

“Away. He works for a farmer and they have gone to Glory to buy seed for the spring planting. He won’t be back for another week.”

“More importantly, where is your father?” I inquire. Dierdra heard the hidden intention in my question.

“Likely where I left him, in our home.”

“Which is your home?”

She points out Beckwith’s window. ”The green one at the end of the lane.”

My eyes follow to where she is pointing. I see the house. I am in the house.

“Was your father wearing a black shirt and tan pants?”

“Yes,” she answers quietly. “How did you know …”

“Does he have a scar above his right eye?”

She just nods, speechless.

“Did your husband have a bottle of Klatch hidden in the top cabinet in your kitchen?”

Beckwith gasps. “How could you possibly know THAT?!”

“Because her father found it and is sitting in the kitchen, drinking it right now. I’m guessing he’s not a happy drunk. What do you want me to do to him, Minerva? I could bend his arm up behind his back and twist it until it broke, just like he did to you. I could poison the Klatch, killing him. Klatch is already so close to poison it wouldn’t take much to push it over the edge. How do I punish him for what he did to you?”

“Why do you do anything?” asks Beckwith.

“Because, Beckwith, if I don’t, when Minerva returns home with her repaired arm, he will be so pissed and drunk that he could try to kill her this time. Kill her or hurt her again. Maybe it would be best if he just disappeared completely. I could do that, you know.”

I can feel Dierdra near me. “I believe you, Alexia. I know you could do all that you say. And more. But we do not have the right to just kill this man. You yourself said that you did not wish to kill any more people.”

She has me there. Damn it. “I could still break his arm.”

“To what end?”

“It would lay him up for awhile; give Iskirk a chance to get home.”

“Perhaps Beckwith knows of someone who would take Minerva in for a few days, long enough for her husband to return. Come back to us, Alexia.”

I linger in Minerva’s kitchen, watching the son of a bitch make a mess of her tiny but neat kitchen. He has his boots on her table, leaning back in a chair, balanced on two legs, the bottle of Klatch tipped up as he drinks. I push the chair over and he falls, striking his head on the wall. He crumples to the floor, unconscious.

He’s alive but he’ll have one hell of a hangover when he gets up. I make sure of that. I return to Beckwith’s house.

“Do you have some place safe for her to stay?”

“I do know of a couple who help women temporarily. I can take her there, it’s not far.”

“I need some of my belongings!” Minerva cries.

“Go home and pick them up. Your father won’t bother you for awhile. He’s a little under the weather. If you have any money or valuables, I’d take them with you too. Don’t leave anything for him to destroy or steal.”

“I will go with her,” says Beckwith. “We won’t be long.”

“Good. When you get back, we have some things to talk about.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Amazing!”

“Keep quiet, Pegues! I do not wish to be the center of attention.”

“Tyber, no one is paying any attention to either of us. They are watching the dancing girls. Why did you think I picked this location?”

I look about me. He is correct; all eyes are focused on the stage where three girls dance barely clothed. They are thin and ill fed, desperation clear in their faces, though they try to hide it. He slaps me on the back.

“Enjoy yourself, man. I know that you are getting no relief from Alexia. Are you certain that she killed both men? It could not have been an accident?”

“People do not ‘accidentally’ lose their heads. The first died before my very eyes, the second half a league away but I found the body. Exactly as the first guard. Alexia was quite upset.”

“She will get over it.”

“That is not all she has done. She saved my daughter from death after she was bitten several times by Woodland Adders. She also cured both a paralyzed man and a woman afflicted with Black Lung. She also saved another man’s arm from amputation. They were all quite grateful. As was I.”

“And I am certain you showed her how grateful you were, ‘eh Tyber?”

“As much as she would permit. She is modest.”

“I am not interested in her Healer skills. I need a fighter and killing a man at half a league shows great promise. We may win yet. Continue as you are. Be at Hampsted a week from tomorrow. That will be your last stop before Glory. We will be ready by then.”

“Ready for what, Pegues? What is this plan of yours?”

“You need not worry about that, Johnathyn. Every man plays his part. Your part is to deliver our witch to Glory. You need not concern yourself with the other details.”

“I will not hand Alexia over to you or anyone else to face certain death, Pegues!”

“Surely, you have not developed feelings for this … woman? Alexia is an abomination! A woman who was a man not eight weeks ago. Not only a man but an offworlder, someone who has nothing in common with us, someone whose people have come to our world to strip it of its valuable minerals and pay but a pittance of their true worth! Our world is being raped by her people while Opulessa stands by and permits it, while First Minister Dupree fills his pockets along with the pockets of his friends.”

“And how will it be different with Patron Miller in charge?”

“He will make certain that our world is respected by the Consortium, that we receive proper compensation for our minerals. That the rewards are not concentrated in the hands of a privileged few.”

“And when will women be treated equally with men?”

“Eventually but not right away, of course. That will take time. Our society could not survive such a radical change immediately. There will be slow but certain change as society adapts.”

“But there will be change?”

“Patron Miller guarantees it, Johnathyn.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Actually, I wanted to go with Beckwith and Minerva to her home to make sure her father didn’t make any trouble but I might have lost my temper and no one would have wanted that. The bastard had already pissed me off. Instead, I waited at her home with Lee and Dierdra.

A young man came by with a badly cut hand. He’d almost taken off his thumb, cutting some ligaments. We had brought the laptop with us so I took a look at the diagrams illustrating the hand and all its systems. I had him fixed and ready to go just as Beckwith returned.

“Minerva is safe. Her father was as you described, down to the scar.”

She inspected my work on the thumb then shooed the man out, telling him to come back tomorrow so that she could make sure everything was healing well. She locked her door after he left.

“What are you?” she asks.

“I’m a Seventy Seven.”

“That is impossible! There are no Seventy Sevens left, if there ever were any to begin with.”

“Besides Opulessa, you mean.”

“Opulessa!” she spat. “She is the reason that our sisters were hunted down and killed, that we must stay hidden today.”

“Not a fan, I take it?”

“Fan?”

“It is of no consequence,” says Dierdra. “Alexia is what she says. I have seen what she can do. Could you have mended Minerva’s arm or that boy’s hand?”

Beckwith is surly. “Not as quickly.”

“Or as completely. She has mended broken backs and cured Black Lung.”

“Black Lung cannot be cured!”

“She did.” Dierdra then points to Leeanna. “That girl was on the edge of death from Woodland Adder bites a few days ago. Look at her now.”

Leeanna stands and curtseys, then spins, her skirt flaring out around her.

“It’s true. Three snakes attacked me but Alexia saved my life. She is the greatest Healer in the world.”

“Humphf.” Beckwith snorts. “Why are you here, Dierdra?”

“We are going to Glory … to depose the Queen.”

“She is not my Queen!” Beckwith declares.

Ahhhh, another potential ally. “So you would not mind it if she was gone?”

“I would not. I am from the Northern Provinces. Opulessa’s people are not as strong out there. More of us witches survived her goon squads because the people protected us, hid us. We took care of their ills.”

“Are all witches Healers?”

“No, nor are all Healers witches. Some of us have the talent, as apparently do you.”

“I have knowledge. I was not healing until a few days ago. Leeanna was attacked and I had no choice. I either tried or she died.”

She looks at me with disbelief. “You mended Minerva’s arm with no more experience than that?!”

“I told you” says Dierdra, “she is a Seventy Seven.”

“A Seventy Seven could not have survived the purge, not even in the farthest reaches of the North.”

“Hey, you want to look a gift horse in the mouth, that’s fine by me but I say use what ya’ got.”

“A gift what?”

“I believe Alexia means that, regardless as to how she is here, she is here, now, ready to help us.”

“What Dierdra said. I think that the men have been in charge for too long. It’s time for a little guurrrlll power.”

Beckwith glances back and forth between Dierdra and me, curiosity fighting with self-preservation. Curiosity won.

“What do you have in mind?”

“The men have their plan. I think it’s time we came up with a plan of our own. How many witches do you two know? I don’t want names right now, just numbers.”

Self-preservation rears its head again but this time it’s beaten back by self-interest. Dierdra and Beckwith huddle for a moment or two, counting heads.

“Twelve,” says Dierdra.

“How many within two weeks ride?”

“Eight, maybe nine.”

“Would any of them know of other witches?”

“That is likely,” Beckwith answers.

“And how many of them would be willing to join our little feminist revolution?”

“If I understand your question, most all of them.”

“Good. Either of you ever heard of a coven?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Pegues has no intention of changing anything, other than whose palm is being crossed by the Consortium. What he says now is not what he said when we first met, when I pledged my loyalty to our cause. Then he said that he was concerned about the plight of the poor, of the children, of the women. He was appalled by Debt Labor and that, if we overthrew Opulessa and the First Minister, the new government would set things right.

Now I no longer believe him. Alexia’s skills as a Healer, her knowledge, could make an enormous difference in our world, yet he gives them no weight. He calls Alexia an abomination, yet it is he who tricked her into coming to our world. He seems to blame her as much as the Consortium and Opulessa for the ills of our world, yet the Consortium has been here for less than ten years. We have treated women as inferior for centuries before that. Debt labor has been an institution for decades before the Consortium’s arrival. Alexia is being used, as am I.

Perhaps Alexia is right; there may be merit in this anarchy of which she speaks. No government, the rights of the individual above all. I have much to consider before we arrive at Glory.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

They had never heard of a coven. And they call themselves witches?

Beckwith had one other person she wanted me to see before returning to our rooms at the inn. An older woman, at least old for this world. She’s nearly sixty and blind. I agreed. If Johnathyn gets finished before we get back, it’s his tough luck. He should have thought about that before insisting I not go with him to the bar.

I wonder if this world has strip clubs. What world with men and women in it wouldn’t have strip cubs? Age old story.

When we reach Beckwith’s patient, she answers the door when we knock and lets us in. The way she maneuvers around her home, you wouldn’t know that she was blind. She moves from spot to spot, dodging chairs and tables, opening cabinets, removing cups and saucers. She insists on making us all tea, which she does without any help.

The reason for her blindness is obvious. It’s cataracts. Her lenses are practically frosted white. She should be able to tell night from day but that’s about it. After Beckwith introduces us, we all sit down and I take a look at her eyes. Except for the lenses, everything looks fine. The problem is, the cure for cataracts are new lenses, which I don’t have and don’t know how to make. In my world, it would be routine eye surgery, but here it’s impossible.

I pull Dierdra and Beckwith aside after my examination and explain the situation.

“So, you cannot mend her eyes?” asks Beckwith.

“Not permanently. Lenses get cloudy over time, it’s nature. I don’t know how exactly it was done and don’t know how to reverse it. I can force them clear but it won’t last, I haven’t fixed anything. As soon as I stop concentrating, they’ll go right back to the way they were. It’s just like the cup in midair. Remove the magic, it falls down, breaking.”

“What are you talking …”

Dierdra breaks in. “I understand. I assume that this is uncomfortable for you. Do you wish for me to explain it to Galinda?”

“No. If I’m gonna take the credit, I gotta take the blame, too.”

I go over to where Galinda is sitting and kneel down next to her chair. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, I can’t fix your eyes. I don’t know how. Anything I did wouldn’t last for very long.”

She reaches over, touching my face. “I understand, child. Just a foolish wish from an old woman, nothing more. I have had a good life. I had hoped to see the faces of the grandchildren I have held these many years before I died.”

Oh Crap! Now what? I can’t just leave her, not after that. I close my eyes and return to her eyes. It is dark, murky, like sun shinning through heavy curtains. Concentrating, I visualize clear, bright lenses, then waive my hand. Instantly, the air around me brightens. I hear Galinda gasp. Returning to the room, I see her happy smile and brilliant blue eyes.

“I’ll hold it as long as I can but there are no guarantees. We have to leave in a day. That is all I can give you.”

She pulls my head towards her, kissing my forehead.

“It will be enough.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It was late when we returned to the inn. Johnathyn was already there, waiting for us. I think he was worried but tried not to show it. Probably still a little shook up about Leeanna and the snakes.

I know it still haunted me. A damn close call. I had suggested on the walk back that Lee stay in Dierdra’s room tonight. I knew that I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight and didn’t want to keep her up. Dierdra offered to stay up with me but I knew that she was tired too. Lee didn’t want to leave me but agreed when I explained why, though she initially wanted to help me stay awake.

“Look, someone around here needs to get some sleep. I can’t but both of you can. I may need help staying awake tomorrow. You two get what rest you can and we’ll see what happens.”

Leeanna reluctantly agrees but insists on giving me a good night kiss on the cheek before going to Dierdra’s room, leaving Johnathyn and me alone.

“This is a fine thing you are doing for the old woman.”

“I didn’t really have a choice.”

“You had a choice. You could have walked away.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you had heard her. It’s no big deal. I just have to stay awake.”

“Can I help?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ve pulled a few all nighters in my time. You get some sleep.”

“I will stay up with you.”

“Johnathyn, you don’t have to do that, I can manage.”

“It will be easier with two.”

“It’s really not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of …”

“Please, Alexia, you do so much. Allow me to do this small thing for you. I can never pay what I owe you.”

“Johnathyn, you don’t owe me anything. I did what I did for Leeanna. It was my fault she was hurt in the first place.”

“Our fault. You may say I owe nothing but your generosity does not wipe away my debt.” He sits down next to me. “What can we do to make certain that you do not fall asleep?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’re up to it or not.”

“I can assure you, I am ‘up’ for anything.”

“Okay, I warned you. Ever heard of Gin Rummy?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Johnathyn picked the game up quickly. I had a pack of cards in my backpack. Apparently this world also has card games but the deck is nothing like ours. Still, Johnathyn got the jist of the game and we were off and running. After the twentieth hand or so, I ask him how his meeting went.

“I was … a good meeting.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“I have concerns.”

“About what?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just keeps playing. I don’t push him, we’ve got the time.

“Alexia, do you regret coming to my world?”

“No, I guess not. It’s been an adventure, that’s for sure. I always thought of myself as a city kid but this world is so beautiful. It must look great in the spring and summer. I’ve seen things that are amazing. And, of course I’ve met you and Lee and Dierdra.”

“And Miran Pegues.”

“He’s a mixed bag.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Good question. I don’t really know. He hasn’t lied to me yet … well he did to get me to jump through that hole but I might have come anyway if he’d told me about the people killing my brother and mother up front.”

“Is vengeance still your objective?”

Now I don’t answer right away. What do I tell Johnathyn? Can HE be trusted? What’s with all the questions?

“Yeah, why not?”

“You don’t behave like a man looking for vengeance, at least not solely for vengeance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You did not need to save Leeanna.”

“Don’t say that! You know I did. She wouldn’t have been there if we hadn’t … you know.”

“Perhaps you are right, but you did not need to help those other people.”

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t? It didn’t cost me a thing to do any of that.”

“And you have spent most of today doing the same thing. You are losing a night’s sleep to help a woman you had not met before today.”

“It’s good practice for me, sharpening my skills.”

“Skills that Pegues has no interest in.”

“How do you know that?”

“He was the man I met today. He was impressed with what you did to the two guards. Your good deeds were of no interest.”

“Is that a surprise? He’s already said why he brought me here. It’s not to open a hospital.”

“True, but promises have been made as to what happens after we win, promises that I am afraid he is no longer committed to.”

“Assuming we win.”

“I have confidence in your abilities and the righteousness of our cause. We will prevail.”

He is a true believer. Every movement needs them and uses them, usually as cannon fodder.

“So what is Pegues’ big plan?”

“He refused to tell me. He claimed that I only needed to know my part at this time, that the rest would be revealed.”

“That’s a good guerilla organization.”

“What is go-rilla organization?”

“A large group is broken into smaller groups, each with a separate assignment. If you’ve got enough people, they might have several groups with the same assignment, just in case one or more get caught. That way, if you get caught, you can only betray those in your small group but not the entire organization. Only a few people at the top know the entire plan and how all the pieces fit together and even they may not know the names of the entire group. It’s a classic insurgent organizational structure.”

“Why would you betray the members of your group? Are they not your comrades?”

“Yeah, they are but governments usually have a way to make you talk, particularly if the one at the top is a witch.”

“I would not talk if captured.”

Looking at him, the square jaw, the steely eyes, his good heart, I’d almost believe it but I know the lengths they would go to break him.

“What about Leeanna?”

“What about her?”

“Would you stand by while they abused her, beat her, raped her while you watched? Would you still refuse to betray your friends?”

“Why would they do such things?! She is an innocent girl!”

“Governments don’t care. They do what they think is necessary to get what they want, no matter who is hurt. Large groups of people can do things no single person would ever consider, things that individual members of the group might not agree with but they tolerate it because they can hide within the group. Spreading the guilt so thin that they can live with it. Or ignore it. They would use your love for your daughter against you.”

“What would you do, Alexia? Would you sacrifice Leeanna to protect your people?”

“I don’t know. If it was a mater of total success or failure … I don’t know.”

“You would not. I have watched you two together. You would not. Nor would I. Perhaps you have been right all along.”

“About what?”

“About Anarchy being the best system. No governments, only people.”

I chuckle, though it sounds more like a giggle. Damn! “And here I was just about to admit that you were right all along.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you. This world needs too much for any single person to provide. Something has to be done to improve everyone’s lives, not just women but everyone. Health care is a joke! The educational system is nonexistent! You can only fix them if people get organized and that means government. It’s also the only way women will ever get treated equally. Men won’t volunteer to give up the advantages, the control that they have taken from women. I don’t know what Pegues promised you would happen, but I’m way too cynical to believe that a bunch of men from this world are just going to even try to change things to help women, not men who have spent their entire lives benefiting from that system.”

“What about me, Alexia? Aren’t I in that group of men?”

“Yes, but you have empathy. I didn’t see a lot of that in Pegues. You have a daughter who you love and want to protect. You’ll do the right thing for her sake. Hopefully, there are more like you than him. It’ll make this easier.”

“It will make what easier?”

I knew it would come down to this eventually. I don’t want to do this without Johnathyn. If he won’t support it, it’s probably doomed to fail. If he does support it, we can still fail but I’ll feel like it was worth it to try.

“What would you say, Johnathyn, if I told you that I was working on my own plan?”

“To do what?”

“To do what I said. Improve heath care, education and get equality for women.”

“How would you do that?”

“Let’s just say that it’s a work in progress. The main thing is that it’s going to shake up who’s sitting at the top of the government.”

“What about Opulessa?”

“I’m not sure about that yet. I may want to give her the chance to join us. I don’t want to fight any more people than I have to.”

“You may not have a choice, Alexia.”

“I’d rather it be her choice than mine. If it comes to that, so be it.”

“And if I do not support you?”

I study his face carefully, trying to pick up some kind of hint as to which way he’s leaning or if he’s leaning at all but I get nothing from him. If he says no, what will I do? He could promise to keep his mouth shut even if he isn’t on board and I believe that he’d do it but is that enough? What does my gut say? My heart?

“Johnathyn … if you won’t support me … then I’m done. I’ll take the first chance I get to return to my world and put all of this behind me. If I can’t go home, then I’ll head north and do what I can to fix this world. Maybe I’m wrong and Pegues and his crowd have the best of intentions but they’ll have to prove it to me if they want my help. Vengeance isn’t enough anymore. I want change for the good of everyone. If their plan does that, then I’m in. If not, then I want to have one of my own ready to go. So … are you in …or out?”

He reaches out and gently takes my right hand in his, engulfing it. “We are not worthy of your generosity, Alexia.”

“Uhhh, okay. Is that in or out?”

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.

“In. All the way.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I make it through the night and all the next morning. Johnathyn says we need to leave in two cycles if we are to keep on schedule.

Men and their schedules.

I know he’s right but I’d like to give Galinda as much time as possible. As the deadline for our departure nears, Dierdra and Beckwith come round to the back of the wagon as we pack up. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so mentally tired in my life.

“How are you, Alexia?” Dierdra asks.

“I don’t know how Opulessa does it. I could never relax for a minute…sorry, decicycle.”

“She has had over two hundred years of practice,” says Beckwith. “This was your first attempt, at which you succeeded.”

“I wish it could have been longer.”

Dierdra looks toward the front of the wagon. “It may have been long enough. I see
Galinda and what I assume are her family.”

“Where?”

“Coming this way.”

“God, I hope everything is okay.”

“They appear to be smiling,” notes Beckwith.

We all three walk to the front to meet the approaching group of about a dozen people. Galinda is in the front, being helped by a young boy and girl, one on each side, supporting her arms. Most of them stop when they get close but Galinda and the two kids keep walking until they’re right in front of me.

“How are you feeling? Is everything alright?” I ask.

“Everything is wonderful,” Galinda answers. “I saw the sun set last night and the sun rise this morning, both were glorious. This is my grandson, Lohan …” the boy bows deeply, “… and my granddaughter, Lucinda.” The girl blushes and then curtsies, finishing with a smile and a giggle. Galinda turns and sweeps her hand across the front of the crowd. “These are the rest of my family. My sons and daughter, their wives and husband. They have all come with me today to do you honor.”

“It isn’t necessary. What I did was only temporary. I couldn’t do any real good for you.”

“You are wrong. It was a great gift, one I never will forget.”

“Look, I don’t know what kind of range I’ve got but I can try to hold on as long as possible as we leave. It might buy you another cycle or two.”

“No. Your offer is generous but it is time. I have seen all that I desired and will cherish the memories. You could grant me one last request.”

“Sure, if I can.”

“I wish that the last thing I see is your beautiful face.”

“You can’t mean that. You’ve got your family, your grandchildren. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you. In here …” she touches her chest “… I know you well. I felt your presence when we met, when you tried to mend my tired, old eyes. Please, grant me my request.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want.” I step in front of Galinda, her face looking up into mine. “Are you ready?” She smiles and nods. I take a deep breath and relax my mind for the first time in what feels like days. Her eyes slowly return to their frosty gray color, but she still smiles up at me.

“Thank you, Alexia. My Queen.”

The rest of her family bows or curtsies. “My Queen!” they all say in unison.

“Wait, wait, no. I’m not anybody’s …” Dierdra steps up from behind me, lightly resting her hand on my shoulder as she leans near my ear.

“Accept this,” she whispers. “With grace.”

What the hell do I do now? Looking from one expectant face to the other, waiting for my response.

“I … uhh … I … thank you for the honor … ahh … you … bestow on me … today … and pray that … ahh … I am worthy of your trust.” I bow slightly towards them. “Thank you, one and all.”

“Nicely done,” Dierdra whispers as she backs away.

“If we may have your leave to return to our homes, your Majesty?” asks Galinda.

“Sure. You got it. Thanks for coming. All of you. Thanks a lot.”

Smooth. Real smooth. They all turn and walk away, smiling and talking among themselves, the two kids leading Galinda.

I turn and look back at Dierdra and Beckwith.

“What the hell was that?”

“You best get used to it,” answers Dierdra. “If we prevail, you will be the new Queen.”

“Not my Queen!” Beckwith spat.

“What she said. Ladies, I’m not staying once we’re done. I have a world to return to.”

“And who awaits you in that world?” Dierdra asks.

“Well, no one actually, but it’s my world. Besides, there are people there who still need to pay for killing my family.”

Dierdra smiles and pats my shoulder. “One step at a time, my Queen.”

“Cut that out!”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Alexia fell asleep almost as soon as our wagon began to roll out of Sweetwater. We had talked throughout the night but I did sleep now and then. She had no rest and actually struggled to keep awake. Now, she is wrapped in blankets, a large pillow behind her head and a smile on her face as she lightly snores.

We all tell her that she snores but she refuses to believe it, claiming she didn’t do it in her world and there is no reason that she would in this world. I do not understand why it upsets her so. I find it … appealing. Leeanna sits next to her, sharing the blanket, while she uses Alexia’s kom-pu-ter. With her permission, of course. Dierdra shares my bench as we roll through the countryside. The day is bright and warmer than usual for this time of year.

“It is a warm day,” I say.

“That it is,” she replies. “We have had several warm days this winter.”

“True. Perhaps Spring will be early.”

“We shall see.”

We ride on in silence for a league or so.

“How is Alexia feeling?” I ask.

“Did you not ask her yourself?”

“I did and she said she was fine but I am afraid that she would try to spare me worry and not be completely truthful.”

“But she would be honest with me?”

“You are her friend.”

“And you are her husband.”

I briefly laugh. “In name only.”

“In all ways but one, you are husband and wife. I have seen how you act towards one another and how you both act towards Leeanna. You treat each other with respect and understanding. You both love Leeanna and would sacrifice for her but will not tolerate her disobedience. I know many couples who would admire your relationship.”

“We are not married. It is a simple disguise, a fraud. You know that.”

“I know what I see and hear. You and she are husband and wife.”

“Be serious. We argue often.”

“As you should. It is because you care for each other, respect each other. If you did not, why fight? It is what comes after the fight that you and she are missing. My husband and I argued often during the day ...” she looked back to see if Leeanna was listening. She was, as usual. “but we resolved our differences at night. With great enthusiasm. You and Alexia should try that sometime. Or perhaps you already have. Neither of you have spoken about what happened while you were alone at the Miryian Waters.”

I glance back at Leeanna. She has her face blocked by the kom-put-er but I know that she’s listening.

“Nothing happened at the Miryian Waters … at least not the kind of thing you are talking about … not exactly the kind of thing you were talking about … I mean nobody actually touched anything. Not really.”

“Then I would say that you two missed a golden opportunity. Let me know if you would like another opportunity.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Patron Miller had asked me to meet with him at his home this evening. His messenger declined to give me any details but it had to be an update on the progress of our witch. When I arrived, there were two other horses tethered outside. One, a large gray, I recognized as belonging to Bickle Rholls. The other was a slender roan I was not familiar with.

Miller’s servant wench shows me into his office after taking my cloak. Miller is sitting behind his desk, Rholls on his left and a third man on his right, leaving a chair between them empty for me.

Miller motions with his hand. “Have a seat, Schicalli.”

“Thank you, Patron.”

“You know Bickle Rholls, of course. This other gentleman shall remain unnamed for now.”

“As you wish, Patron.”

“Yes, it is for the best. I have received another message from Pegues. It seems that our witch has made some progress. If he is to be believed, she killed a man half a league away.”

“Half a league?! Amazing! Why would she do that?”

“Two local Queen’s Guards crossed her. The first died only a few feet away from her but the other managed to escape on his horse but she reached out and cut off his head when he was more than half a league distant. Very impressive. Have you ever heard of Opulessa doing anything like that, Schicalli?”

“No Patron, I have not, though it is my understanding that she prefers to look her victims in the eye when she strikes. That does not mean she can’t.”

“Quite true, but this may change our plans. We may not need to invade the Palace if our witch can reach in and kill Dupree and his people from the outside. Everything becomes much simpler.”

“Assuming Pegues is not being overly optimistic.”

“He knows what will happen to him if I catch him lying to me. He is likely telling the truth.”

Patron Miller does not tolerate deception. We are all aware of it but that does not prevent us from shading the truth now and then.

“Granted, but that does not mean she can penetrate Opulessa’s protections.”

“Regardless,” says Rholls, “we must explore the possibilities.”

Miller nods his head. “Bickle is correct.”

“Does this change my assignment, Patron?” I ask.

“No, Schicalli. You are still responsible for obtaining other world weapons for our people should we need to invade. Do not commit any assets or resources until we are certain it will be necessary. I would prefer not to attack local Guard posts to steal their weapons to arm our people. It would attract too much attention.”

“Better the Guard posts than the Winthrop Group compound, Patron.”

“Let us wait and see what our witch can actually do before taking any action, Schicalli.”

“It may delay our action against the Queen.”

“Continue making your plans in case we need them.”

I nod my head towards him. “As you wish, Patron. Is there anything else?”

“No, Schicalli, nothing you need to deal with.”

“May I ask when Pegues and his witch are expected to arrive?”

Miller stares at me for a moment before answering. “I am not certain, though it should be in the next three or four weeks. Weather permitting.”

“It has been warmer recently, good traveling weather.”

“Or it makes the roads muddier,” says Rholls.

Why is he here? What are his responsibilities in this plan? Who is the third, silent man sitting next to me? I have much to discover yet. I stand up.

“If there is nothing else, Patron, I will return home.”

He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. I bow slightly, first to him, then Rholls and finally the unknown third man, who acknowledges me with a small nod of his head and a thin smile.

Miller’s wench is waiting for me at the door, my cloak in her hands. I quickly don it and stroll to my horse. Best to appear unconcerned and casual. After mounting and settling into the saddle, I ride off at a normal pace. There is no need to hurry. The messenger pigeon to First Minister Dupree won’t fly until morning anyway.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We had stopped at a little one horse town yesterday and Johnathyn did his thing. The man is a true artist. I sometimes wonder what he could have accomplished if he had been born in my world. Then he would have been a she. What would Johnathyn look like as a woman? That kind of boggles the mind. When I look at my reflection, I can see a familiar face, like I was looking at my sister or a combination of my male self and old pictures of my mother though not at all like Terri, which I guess is sort of odd.

Another odd thing was that a woman was waiting for Dierdra when we got to town. She wanted to talk with her without me. I wasn’t happy about it but, apparently, the woman was nervous about being around me. They spoke briefly, embraced and the other woman left. Dierdra walked back to the wagon.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“Good news. It seems that we may have more women than I first thought. Friends of friends of friends. Word has spread.”

“We don’t want the word to spread too far. We’ve still got security to worry about.”

“No one understands that better than these women. They have been hunted for most of their lives. Their suspicion is that this is some kind of plot to trap them. That so many are willing to step forward shows how desperate they are for a normal life.”

“I hope they know that I’m not promising anything, other that I won’t hang them out to dry.”

“If you mean that you won’t abandon them to their fates, I believe they understand that. They are willing to step out of the shadows in order to find out what you have to offer. They are not making any promises either.”

“That’s fair. Why didn’t she want to see me? There isn’t a problem of some kind, is there?”

“No, she just did not feel she was dressed well enough to meet a Queen.”

“Awww crap!”

Dierdra smiles and pats my arm. “I warned you that you best get used to it. All we needed was a leader. Like it or not, that is what you are. It is up to us not to disappoint them.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The two extra outriders on my trip to the Palace should have been the tip off. That and the additional guard escorting me to the First Minister’s office. When I got there, Dilgar hurried me into the office without the formal announcement of my arrival.

That I noticed.

Colonel Willis was already there and he was in deep discussion with Dupree as I entered the room. Their conversation stopped almost immediately but not quite. I caught the last part of what was likely a long string of imaginative curses by Colonel Willis. One of his trademarks.

Dupree greets me. “Good morning, Mr. White.”

“Good morning First Minister. Don’t stop on my account, Colonel Willis.”

He coughs uncomfortably. “I was done.”

I sit down across from Dupree. “Sorry I missed it. I assume the colorful invectives refer to the purpose of this meeting.”

“It does, Mr. White. I was just informing Colonel Willis of the reports from my spy in the rebel group headed by Patron Miller.”

“Patron Miller? That means he’s a Provincial Governor, right?”

“Correct, Mr. White.”

“Why would a Governor head a rebel group?”

“Because the bastard wants to move up the food chain,” says Colonel Willis. “If your system doesn’t have elections, people at the top pretty much stay where they are unless they die or get overthrown. Dupree here looks to be in pretty good health so that just leaves …”

“Rebellion. I see. And you have a spy among his people, First Minister?”

“Several, but my information comes primarily from one in particular, though others provide partial confirmation of portions of his report.”

“Is your man trustworthy?”

“The best that money can buy, Mr. White.”

That’s hardly ideal. An ideologue would be best; they tend to stay loyal on principle. People who sell their loyalty can be bought by the other side. Unfortunately, in this business, you take what you can get.

“What does this spy tell you?”

Dupree attempts to put a reassuring smile on his face. “Nothing we are not prepared to handle.”

Willis pulls a well chewed cigar from his mouth and spits. Disgusting but succinct.

“I take it you disagree, Colonel Willis?”

“They’ve got themselves a witch, one who may endanger the Queen. We can’t allow that, Don. We can’t take that risk.”

Dupree waives his hand dismissively. “Colonel Willis is being too cautious. There is no firm evidence that this witch is anything extraordinary, and even if she is, I’m certain she is no match for the Queen.”

I look over at Willis. He shifts the cigar over to the right side of his mouth.

“I love how he’s so certain when we don’t have reliable intel on damn near anything. It’s all guess work. We may guess wrong. It ain’t worth the risk.”

“What is your recommendation, Colonel?”

“I’d pick up every damn one of the people we know about and start sweating them for information.”

“When you say ‘sweating’ do you mean …”

“I mean whatever it takes.”

“Does that include …”

“Whatever it takes, Mr. White.”

I appreciate enthusiasm but Willis pushes the envelope sometimes.

“What do you propose, First Minister?”

Dupree eyes Willis for a moment, who just ignores him, continuing to chew on that cigar.

“While I’m sure there is merit in Colonel Willis’ suggestions, I have decided that the best option is to let the rebel plan progress but monitor it closely. Once all the members have been identified, then we strike, capturing them all and removing the threat. If we do what Colonel Willis wants, some may escape and the whole process begins again. Next time, we may not be so lucky in obtaining well placed spies.”

“What happens if you lose contact with your spy or he’s discovered?” I ask. “We lose our advantage, possibly at the worst possible time.”

“I’m certain that will not happen, White. We’ve taken all the necessary precautions so far and will continue to do so. We have everything under control.”

“Where’s the witch at?” asks Willis. “Right now. Where is she?”

We both fix our eyes on Dupree. He puts up a brave face.

“We don’t know exactly where she is but we know where she’s going.”

“She’s coming here, to Glory,” says Willis.

“And we’ll know when she arrives.”

“Like hell you will.”

Dupree jumps out of his chair. “I am the First Minister of this land and will not be addressed this way!”

I raise my right hand, elbow high, palm forward. “I’m sure no insult was intended First Minister. Colonel Willis was simply offering his frank opinion. We must be open and honest with one another if we are to succeed. Is that not true?” I kept a straight face throughout that entire speech. Practice makes perfect.

Dupree slowly sits back down. “I agree, Mr. White. Truthfulness is important but protocol must be respected. I am the leader of this world.”

“The Queen is the leader,” says Willis, forcefully.

What is his problem? “There is no reason to argue about local political semantics, Colonel. It isn’t our responsibility or our objective.”

It was Willis’s opportunity to get out of his chair. “It is our responsibility to protect this government and that means to protect the Queen, no matter what the cost!”

Willis is much more intimidating than the First Minister. Not intimidating enough though.

“Colonel Willis, my responsibility is very simple; to keep the flow of resources into our world moving. Nothing more, nothing less. The Consortium has hired The Winthrop Group, your employer, to assist me in this. I determine exactly how this will happen. You DO remember who pays the bills around here, don’t you?”

Willis sits just as slowly as Dupree did. “No, I haven’t forgotten. Mr. White.”

“Good. As we are guests in this world, we will follow the recommendations of First Minister Dupree.” For now. “We have no intention of getting involved in local politics.” For now. “Our only concern is that our business relationship remains unaffected.”

For now.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

If White thinks I’m going to stand by and wait while that pinhead Dupree risks my Queen’s life, he hasn’t read my file. I do what needs to be done. Anyone can see what the most important thing is here. The first step is to make sure she knows exactly what is going on and then to do what she tells me to do.

Once I get back to my office, I check the duty list, then page Captain Taylor. He’s in charge of the Queen’s protection team today.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Taylor, where’s the Queen right now?”

“She’s at the stables.”

“Public or private?”

“Public but heading toward the private.”

Damn! That is the one place in this world that totally freaks me out. It’s what a zoo would look like if you put all the customers and animals in a blender. I understand why the Queen keeps them around but the mind says one thing while the gut says something else. At least she’ll be alone. No one else wants to spend a second in that room.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Taylor.”

“Yes Sir, Colonel.”

I don’t run but walk briskly through the halls and out into the Court Yard, people quickly moving out of my way. Back on Earth, I’d have had to push and shove my way through a crowded hallway, even with my rank. Here, as a man, the people part like the Red Sea in front of me. I don’t know if I can ever go back to the old life.

The Court Yard is oval shaped, about a hundred yards by seventy five, dirt floor but surrounded by a wooden sidewalk so that you can get around when it rains, turning the dirt to mud. There are a lot of flagstones in the dirt but wagons are constantly breaking and dislodging them, plus bringing in more dirt and dropping it in the Court Yard. There’s a bunch of old ladies who spend the entire day sweeping but it doesn’t do a lot of good. The walls surrounding the yard are three to six stories tall, which cuts down on the amount of light available to grow grass.

They’d be better off paving the whole damn thing but that’s not an option. The Consortium can bring some bigger equipment through the new enlarged jump gate but not a dump truck of asphalt or even a small paver. Maybe next year.

The stables are off to my right. There’s one large main door but several smaller stall doors and windows on either side. Two of my troopers are posted at the main door, one at each side, both at attention and very alert, eyeing everyone who crosses in front of them.

Makes me proud!

They both salute briskly as I approach. “Colonel, Sir!” they snap in unison.

“At ease, men. How many of our people inside?”

“Six men, counting Captain Taylor, Sir,” says the trooper on the left.

“How many civilians?”

“The usual group of ten. All regular staff. The Queen wanted to feed some of her … pets.”

To his credit, the trooper managed not to shudder when he said “pets”. I don’t know if I could have pulled that off as well as he did.

“Anybody else in there?”

“Not that we’ve been informed about. Do you want to go in, Sir?”

“Pretty much have too, son. Wish me luck.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The two troopers each grab a door handle, pulling the main doors open. I step through and they slam shut behind me. There is a lot of activity in the stables. People running here and there, leading horses or wiping them down. It is as if they keep busy, they can avoid thinking about what is behind the iron bound door in the far wall, the door where my troops are standing. I stride towards them, taking care where I step. The stable is light and airy. A high ceiling and good air flow, thank God. Stables create the kind of smells you don’t want to build up. All my men come to attention when they see me.

“At ease. What’s the situation, Taylor?”

“The Queen wanted to go in alone. I scouted the area to make sure it was clear before she entered. I volunteered to go with her but she said no.”

“And you did what she told you to do. Good man. Unfortunately, I need to speak with her.”

“Couldn’t it wait, Sir? She prefers to be alone in there.”

“Did she forbid me to enter?”

“No, Sir.”

“I wish she had.”

“I know what you mean, Colonel.” Taylor opens the stout door; it swings noiselessly on well balanced and oiled hinges. I take a quick breath, steel myself and step through.

The area is similar to what is on the other side of the door, though smaller, more intimate. The Queen is standing next to a fenced pen, holding a glistening bucket. My eyes are drawn to her radiance. I couldn’t resist if I wanted to.

“Colonel Willis,” she calls, without looking up, keeping her attention on what is in the pen.

“I am very sorry to disturb you, my Queen, but I’ve been made aware of a situation that may threaten your safety and I had to speak with you about it, immediately.”

“This situation couldn’t wait until later?”

How I wish it could have. “I’m afraid not, my Queen. I don’t have much time. The First Minister may notice my absence before long.”

“I’m certain he likely already knows that you are here. Not much escapes the notice of Dupree. That is why he is still First Minister. That and he keeps me entertained. Come over and stand next to me, Colonel Willis.”

God damn it! I can’t see much from here but now I’ve got no choice. She gave me a direct order. I reluctantly walk over to where she stands, keeping my eyes on her magnificent face.

“What do you think of my pretty little pet, Colonel? Isn’t she precious?”

I force my head to turn towards the pen and look in. There’s a pig lying on its side in the mud, a sow, clearly pregnant. Two parallel rows of prominent nipples running up it’s almost impossibly swollen belly. It looks just like any ordinary pig that you might find on an American farm … except that its head is disturbingly clearly human. Not only human but also a man’s head. The only concession to his pig nature is a small set of curved tusks. Other than that, it’s the head of a pink, over weight, bald man with large, flapping jowls.

It’s all I can do to keep from puking right there.

The Queen reaches into the bucket, pulls out a leafy vegetable of some kind and tosses it right next to the creature’s mouth. It rolls up with great effort, pulls itself forward through the muck and gobbles the greens down, with relish, grunting loudly as it crunches and gulps away.

“That’s my precious!” she coos. “Such a pretty pet! And so fat with little piglets. Yes you are!”

My attention is drawn to the creatures’ eyes, buried deep inside drooping lids and puffy cheeks. There is a light in those eyes that says “I know exactly what I am and what is happening to me.” It causes my spine to curl.

The Queen tosses it another vegetable, which the creature attacks with the same vigor.

“We must keep you fat and well fed, my pet. You’ll need all that fresh milk to nourish those hungry babies of yours. You’re such a fine breeder. Always lots and lots of piglets. Such a good mother too. Nothing’s too good for her babies. She’ll care and nurture them until they’re weaned. Then we bring her big stud back and start all over again, don’t we? But I don’t let you get pregnant right away, do I, my pet? You so enjoy rutting with that big boar. You get months and months of it, several times a day before I finally relent and allow you to become pregnant again. I can’t resist those delicious children of yours. So tender, so moist. Such a treat!”

She throws another couple of greens into the pen, this time not so close to the creature. It looks at her for just a second or two before turning and waddling with great effort towards its meal. In those few seconds, I swear that I saw tears in those hooded eyes. The Queen turns her bright face to mine.

“You have not answered my question Colonel. What do you think of my pet?”

“She … ahh … it is … very unusual … I’ve never seen anything … like it before.”

Her smile broadens. I am grateful to see it. She must be pleased with my answer.

“She is one of my better ideas. She was First Minister Dupree’s predecessor. He thought that he could keep me locked up in the Palace and control my activities. He had an unfortunate streak of morality that Dupree does not possess, which he tried to impose on me. He was a pig of a man, so I just finished the job. Very simple and direct. We are all happier for it. You should see how she takes to the breeding. Does my heart good. You wanted to talk with me, Colonel Willis?”

It takes a second or two for me to catch the change of subject. “Uh … Yes … Yes, my Queen. I just had a meeting with First Minister Dupree and Mr. White, from The Consortium. They told me about a plan by a rebel group to bring in a powerful witch to challenge you. Apparently, this witch is from …”

“From your world. She’s a Seventy Seven and will be here in a few weeks. I know all about her, Colonel.”

“You do? How do you know this?”

“I have my spies in Dupree’s office and he has his spies among my people.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m a spy, my Queen.”

“You Colonel? No, of course not. It’s clear that you’re strictly a military man, completely trustworthy.”

“I’m happy you think that of me.” For a lot of reasons, one of which has returned to wallowing in the mud a few feet away from me. “I’ve never been comfortable with office politics.”

“Unfortunately, I am. Perhaps it is better to say that I have grown comfortable over these many years, though Dupree is one of the best that I have run across since I became Queen.”

“Then you must know what my recommendations were and that Dupree rejected them, with Mr. White’s support.”

“Yes, I do and I agree with the First Minister.”

“I don’t want to take any risks of any kind with your safety, Queen Opulessa.”

She lightly pats my check. “I should take some of the blame for that, my dear Colonel, but I would not change a thing. The reason that I agree with the First Minister is that this outsider is no threat to me. She is a mere child! I have ruled this land for over two hundred years and am still in my prime! Don’t you think I’m still in my prime, Colonel?”

“Absolutely, my Queen!”

“The girl may have raw talent but she has no experience. I will defeat her easily.”

“You’ll kill her then?”

“No, no, my heavens no. I have much bigger plans for her.”

I look around the stables, wondering what new abomination will join the herd of horror. The Queen notices my wandering eyes.

“Nothing like that, Colonel. I want her intact and unharmed.”

“Why’s that, my Liege?”

“You obviously know very little about witches. The more witches gathering in one location, the more power there is for all of them. The more powerful the witches, the more power there is. I have spent my entire life keeping the other witches on the run, hidden, separated, killing any my men can catch. This girl is different. She is all potential but no skill. I can control her, then her power will be mine.”

“You are already the most powerful, wonderful person in this world, my Queen. Why take the chance?”

She sighs, looking weary for the first time since I first met her. It was only for a second or two though. She is back to her radiant self instantly.

“Despite what you may think, Colonel, I have a hard life. It takes a lot of my power just to maintain everything. After more than two hundred years, I bore easily. There is little new to keep my interest. I have done it all more than once. Or twice. Or a hundred times. The arrival of you and your men has helped these last few years but my life is still difficult.”

“My men and I are glad to be of service. Anything you desire.”

“As you all should be. However, if I can capture the powers of this girl and put them to use, my future is assured. You would want that for me, wouldn’t you, Colonel?”

“Your wish is my command, Queen Opulessa.”

“How perfectly wonderful. And, if it doesn’t work out the way I want it to, I still dispose of a rival and make a new addition to my collection of pets. Colonel Willis, please return to your office and make sure to keep me informed about the First Minister’s plans in the future but be discreet about it. Can you do that little thing for me?”

“Anything you ask of me, I will do.”

“Excellent! As a reward for your loyalty, why don’t you visit me this evening, up in my chambers. We can have a long talk about a number of things. It has been some time since we last … talked.”

“I will be there, my Liege.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Dierdra’s riding shotgun today while Leeanna and I are in the back of the wagon. She’s listening to the MP3 player while the laptop recharges. I’m just watching the scenery slowly roll by. If we weren’t heading to a fight to the death, this wouldn’t be a bad way to live.

New York was always about the rush. Hurry here, hurry there. Do this job, do that job. Run, hide, seek. It never stopped. It rarely even slowed down. I thought that was the way the entire world lived, the only way to live. Coming to this world was a real culture shock. Not just the change in sex but the change of pace. Everything is much slower but more important. There’s time to think, sometimes too much. In New York, I was just responsible for myself and sorta responsible for Mom and Terry. Here, I’m responsible for the fate of a world, including Johnathyn and Leeanna, who feel like family. If I’d had those responsibilities back in New York, I’d be totally freaking out, but here … somehow, I think I can do it. I’m not sure how we’ll get it done but my gut tells me we will, so I’m a hell of a lot calmer than I’ve got any right to be.

Maybe it’s because this is “we” instead of “me”. Back in New York, I was mostly on my own. I didn’t look for help but no one offered, either. Now, I’ve got a team. Johnathyn is a total rock. Dierdra is a close friend and more help is coming. And Leeanna … is giving me a funny look right now. She’s slipped off the headphones and just looking at me, her face kinda scrunched up.

“What’s up, Lee?”

She glances towards the front of the wagon, then scoots closer to me, lowering her head slightly.

“I know,” she whispers.

“What do you know?” I whisper back.

“I know that you love me.”

What brought this on? “Of course I love you. You’re a great kid, Why wouldn’t I?”

“No, I know. I felt it. When those snakes bit me and you saved my life, it was like … you were in my head, like I could feel what you felt. You weren’t going to let me get hurt. You loved me, just like my mother loved me. I could feel it!” Her head dropped a little lower, not looking at me. “I … love you too, Alexia.”

“Look, you don’t have to say that. I’m not your mother. I understand if …”

“No. I must say it because it is true. I am ashamed to admit that I was afraid of you. When those soldiers stopped us and you …”

“I know.”

“I had never seen anything like that. I knew that you were a witch but I guess I did not really know what that actually meant, what you could do by just waiving your hand. I was afraid that you might do that to me.”

“Lee, I’d never do anything like that to you, or your father.”

“I know that now but I didn’t then. Would you please forgive me … Mother?”

“Of course I forgive you. There’s nothing to forgive. You had every right to be afraid. I’m cool with it all, but you don’t have to call me ‘Mother.’”

“What if I want to?”

“If you want to … then I’m cool with that too.”

She hugs me around my waist, letting her head fall onto my chest. I hold her tightly around her shoulders, a warm feeling spreading through me, tears gathering in my eyes. I don’t know how we’re going to handle this when I go back home but, for now, I’m happy.

We keep a firm grip on each other as the wagon rocks back and forth. Eventually, Lee lifts her head off my chest and looks up at me.

“Mother?”

I smile down at her. “Yes, daughter?”

The briefest smile flashes across her face but returns to a serious look.

“Has anyone told you about the great god Zaphod and his wife, Jillian?”

“No. Is it important?”

“I think maybe it is. Zaphod and Jillian were happily married when another goddess named Alexia showed up.”

“Alexia? That’s MY name.”

“I know. You see … that Alexia wasn’t very nice.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I didn’t say anything about it while Dierdra and I fixed supper, with Lee’s help.

I let it ride all during supper and the clean up.

I even let it slide while we were all sitting around the campfire, the sparks climbing high into the cold, clear sky.

I kept quiet until after Leeanna had gone to bed and I was certain that she was asleep. I waited a whole ten decicycles just to make certain.

Then I asked.

“Were either of you ever planning on telling me about Zaphod, Jillian and Alexia?”

Dierdra and Johnathyn pass several guilty glances back and forth before Johnathyn spoke up.

“I told Pegues that he was making a mistake. He should have chosen a different name. Clearly you aren’t what she was.”

“And what exactly was the Goddess Alexia, Johnathyn?”

“She was … aahhhh … a ….uummm … loose woman?”

“If Leeanna’s got it straight, she was a lot more than ‘loose.’”

“What did Leeanna tell you? She is too young to know about things like that!”

“First off, this isn’t about what Leeanna knows, doesn’t know or shouldn’t know, Johnathyn. This is about why neither of you bothered to tell me why I’ve been getting all those funny looks and giggles whenever I introduce myself to someone. Secondly, Lee is a smart kid. They always know more than their parents want them to know. Sometimes what they know is wrong and dangerous but it’s usually just the stuff that they’re going to need to know sooner rather than later any way. Let’s go back to my question, why didn’t either of you say something before today?”

“I thought you knew, Alexia,” says Dierdra.

“You could have asked, just to make sure but you didn’t. Johnathyn, on the other hand, knew I didn’t know. A heads up would have been nice.”

“A ’heads up’?” he innocently asks.

“Don’t play that game with me. You know exactly what I mean!”

“Let us say that I did. It was none of my concern.”

“I’m supposed to be your wife. People have been making fun of me behind my back for months and ‘it was none of your concern’? Thank God we aren’t actually married.”

“Yes. Thank God.”

“And what is THAT supposed to mean?”

“YOU said it. I was just agreeing with you, that’s all. Is it now wrong for me to agree with you?”

He has me there. Doesn’t mean I am going to let it go. “I know what I meant when I said it. What did you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You didn’t have a thought in that big head of yours? Not a single relevant thought? It’s hard to believe that there was nothing there.”

“Yes, there was a thought. I was thinking that you should have red hair instead of black. At least that way people would be warned about your temper.”

“My TEMPER? I think I’ve been pretty damn reasonable after finding out I’ve been the object of derision ever since I was tricked into coming to this world!”

“That is not true, Alexia,” says Dierdra in a calming voice. “No one who knows you thinks less of you because of your name.”

“What about the people I meet in the street? ‘Hello, I’m the blacksmith’s wife. My name is Alexia, just like the great whore in legend and song.’ Oh, apparently there’s also a book. This world doesn’t even have the damn printing press but there are handwritten MANUSCRIPTS about Alexia out there. Be honest, Dierdra. What was the first thing that ran through your mind when you heard my name? Be honest.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I thought that you were beautiful enough to be the legendary Alexia.”

Johnathyn starts to speak but I turn and point at him.

“Don’t you even think about it, buster. My temper. You haven’t SEEN my temper. I might as well be named Adolph Hitler. Of course, you’ve got no idea who that is. No wonder I had so much trouble in Shellcrest. Those drunks probably thought I was out looking for business.” I stand up, pulling my cape tightly around my shoulders. “I’m going out there to cool off my TEMPER. I don’t want to wake Leeanna. Don’t either of you follow me.”

I stomp off, away from the fire, into a field, walking uncounted decileagues, until the fire is a mere matchstick, providing neither heat nor light. I sit on a large, cold rock. My cape is underneath me so it’s not that bad. For now.

I over reacted. I knew it while I was doing it. The person to blame is Pegues. It was his little joke, the bastard. Johnathyn and Dierdra were just convenient targets, though Johnathyn should really have said something. Not right away, maybe, but I thought we had a … relationship of some kind. It’s like someone you see every day was going around with a crooked tie or something in their teeth all the time. You say something out of politeness for God’s sake!

I sit and stew for about twenty decicycles before the cold starts to penetrate the cape and my butt begins to hurt from sitting on the rock. I start to get up but see a small dot of light moving erratically through the field in front of me. Someone, probably Johnathyn, has my flashlight and is looking for me. I could say something but I think I’ll let them stumble around awhile. I spend the next several decicycles watching whoever is looking for me alternate between getting warmer and colder in their search. They fall down at least twice before finally getting close enough that I decide to put an end to it.

“I’m here.”

The light swings quickly my way but I don’t close or shield my eyes, staring straight at the searcher.

“By Zaphod’s beard! You startled me.” It is Johnathyn.

”I told you not to follow me.”

“Dierdra insisted that I come. She said it wasn’t safe out here.”

“For a woman with the name of Alexia?”

“For anyone. We maybe closer to Glory but that doesn’t mean that wolves aren’t hunting for stray cattle or anyone foolish enough to walk away from a warm fire.”

I slide over on the rock, my butt completely numb from the cold. Johnathyn drops down next to me, radiating heat from the exertion of his search. I resist the urge to snuggle close to him. For the warmth.

“We haven’t seen any wolves yet this entire trip.”

“No, but we have heard them.”

That was certainly true. Many nights when we were away from what passes for civilization in this world, we’d here the chorus of howls begin in the evening just as the sun set and they would continue for hours. At first they worried me but neither Johnathyn nor Leeanna reacted at all. I figured that if a young girl wasn’t going to sweat it, I wasn’t going to. Eventually, the howls became background noise, unless they were particularly close or loud.

We sit in silence, the darkness engulfing us. What started as a clear night has gotten blacker as clouds came in, the wind slowly rising, making it feel even colder. The warmth of the fire we left behind calls to me but I’m not going to be the first one to move. Johnathyn shifts his position on the rock slightly and coughs, clearing his throat. “I … should have said something.”

If I was smart, I’d take that and declare victory. I’m not that smart, at least emotionally.

“You’re right. You should have. Why didn’t you?”

“Because we would have ended up just as this, having fought about it when it was not my fault in the first place. Pegues is the one who christened you ‘Alexia’. A perfectly beautiful name, it just has certain history tied to it. It was a natural extension of your own name but again, the history. I’m sure that many do not believe the story anyway but, when it comes to sex …”

“You can’t pass it up. Not when it’s a man and a woman.”

“And looking as you do. If an old toothless hag were named Alexia, there would be the occasional smirk or comment. When the woman is as beautiful as you, very few can resist the thought that you are the embodiment of the goddess, for good or ill. I should have at least warned you but I did not want to upset you either. I could think of no way to do one without the other, so I did nothing.”

“I’ve done worse with women I dated.”

“As have I with Leeantha. She reacted as you did, I should have remembered that.”

“I wouldn’t compare me to your first wife. Quit while you’re ahead. While we’re on a truthfulness binge here, I need to tell you or ask you something, I don’t know which.”

“What is that?”

“Leeanna wants to call me Mother.”

“She should, that is our disguise.”

“No, she really means it. She wants me to be her mother.”

He thinks about it for a while before answering. “What did you tell her?”

“I guess I was caught up in the moment. I said it was okay but I should have asked you first. You’re her father, it’s your call. Come hell or high water, this gig is temporary. We win, I’m going home. We don’t win, I guess we’ve got bigger problems than who calls who what. I just don’t want her to get her feelings all invested in me and then I leave her. It’s not fair to her. I like her, I like her a lot.”

“Do you love her as a mother loves a daughter?”

Do I? She thinks I do. I’ve never had a kid but I love her as much as I did Mom and Terry. I’d do for her what I’d have done for them.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Then how could you leave … her?”

“I’ve got no choice. This isn’t my world, I don’t belong here. I’m the snake in the Garden of Eden. I know too much to stay. The things I could tell you that would completely change your world, they’re uncountable. I could make it a paradise or I could destroy it. Who knows what would happen? I’m not smart enough to guarantee a paradise so everybody, including Leeanna, is better off if I leave this world as soon as the job is done.”

“Does that include me?”

What is he asking? “Everybody includes everybody, Johnathyn. I shouldn’t interfere with the natural development of your world. The Prime Directive.”

“I do not know about this Prime Directive but, if that is so, should you not leave right this very moment?”

“The Prime Directive kicks in as soon as I get the people who killed my family, every one who had a hand in it. After that, the place is yours.”

“I don’t see how that makes any …” he stops talking mid-sentence, just freezing in place. He had left the flashlight on when he sat down but it was pointing up to light the area around the rock we were sitting on. Now he picks it up but shields the beam with his other hand.

“What are you …” I start to ask but he puts his hand gently over my mouth then quickly returns it to the flashlight.

He quietly slides off the rock and squats next to me, unblocking the light. Immediately, dozens of red eyes reflect the light. He swings the light back behind us, more red eyes. He brings it to our right, more eyes, but this time, there is a head and a body.

And teeth. Lots of big, sharp pointed teeth.

“Wolves,” he tensely whispers.

What I saw was not a wolf. I watched “Animal Planet” back home and I know what a wolf looked like. This thing was much bigger, like five and a half foot long in the body and two hundred pounds if it was an ounce. Broad chest, muscled legs, thick neck. It wasn’t long and lean like a wolf. This thing could chew its way through a concrete wall. And he has lots of friends with him.

“Stay behind me,” Johnathyn says.

“Do you have a gun?”

“No.”

“A knife?”

“No.”

“Then you stay behind me.” I jump off the rock. “Where’s the nearest tree?”

He flicked the light to my left then returned it to the gigantic wolf that was only twenty decileagues away, slowly approaching, head down, tongue out, teeth barred but silent except for the breathing.

We need more light. I concentrate on the tree that Johnathyn briefly lit up. I need it to burn … right now! It begins to glow, first light orange, then shifted to red. Its few remaining leaves were curling and popping. Sweat was dripping off my forehead from the effort of my concentration. Suddenly it burst into flames, throwing an intensely bright light around us.

A number of the wolves that had been near the tree were running away towards the shadows. I couldn’t be sure if they were leaving or just regrouping. The rest of the wolves were acting nervous, shying away from the burning tree but not running away either. The really big wolf didn’t flinch, he just kept creeping forward.

“Well done,” says Johnathyn.

“All it does is show us how much trouble we’re in.”

“If you run for the wagon, I’ll follow with a burning branch, that should hold them off until …”

“Until that big son of a bitch decides he’s done playing with us and he bites your arm off.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

I reach out with my right hand, palm flat, facing the biggest wolf, which is crouching, as if coiling to spring towards us.

“FREEZE!” I shout just as it leaps. I knock it out of the air, dropping it to the ground. It quickly gets back up on all fours but I manage to hold him in place as it struggles against my magic, feet digging and pawing at the ground, no longer silent but growling and snarling. A second wolf sprints past the first but I knock it down too, holding it off. A third, then a fourth wolf attacks but I still hold them off.

“You’re doing it Alexia!” shouts Johnathyn.

“I … I … don’t know … how long I … can … do this.” The strain is getting to me. I’m holding each individual wolf away. As more wolves join in, it only gets worse. I’m up to more than a dozen and even those are fighting me as hard as they can. I can’t keep this up much longer. “Johnathyn … this isn’t going … to work. There’s too many of them.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Get ready to grab on and hold tight. Grab me! Hurry!”

He steps behind me, grabbing my waist with both hands. “Like this?”

“NO! HUG ME! AS TIGHTLY A YOU CAN!”

He puts me in a bear hug. I can hardly breathe.

“Like this?”

“YES! DON’T LET GO, NO MATTER WHAT! WE’RE LEAVING”

“What are you … AAAAUUUGHHH!”

I release all the wolves at once. They stumble forward, uncoordinated, because of the sudden change but they right themselves quickly, leaping at us as we shoot fift5een decileagues into the air … and stay there, hovering out of their reach as they fight each other while jumping up at us.

“IN ZAPHOD’S NAME, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I couldn’t hold back twenty five of them so I decided to hold up the two of us.”

“HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

“Calm down, Johnathyn.”

‘I AM CALM! WHO SAYS I AM NOT CALM?!”

“My eardrums. You’re shouting into my right ear. Take it easy … please.”

“YES … certainly. I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before.”

“Welcome to the club. Let’s see if I can float us over to the wagon.”

“We can’t! They will follow us back!”

He’s right, they will. I’ve simply climbed a nonexistent tree. We’re still trapped. There’s no other choice now.

“I need to get my right arm free, Johnathyn.”

“So, do it.”

“You’ll need to relax your grip, just a little.”

“Why? What are you going to do now?”

“Kill some wolves.”

“You can do that while keeping us up here?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

“And if you can’t?”

“We fall from the sky and are wolf kibble.”

Johnathyn doesn’t say anything but he does loosen his hold on my right side enough for me to pull my arm away from my body. “Sometimes Alexia, I do not know when you are making sport.”

“Sometimes I don’t know myself. You may want to close your eyes.”

I flex my fingers then think about a fireball. A dense swirling mass of flame, so hard, so hot that it would instantly immolate anything it contacts. As the image grows in my mind, I begin to feel the heat in my hand. I look over and see it, about the size of a golf ball at the start but it quickly expands to the size of a baseball, then a softball. The brightness causes my eyes to hurt. I can feel both the weight and the increasing intensity. Just as I begin to look for a target, we bobble and slide off to the right, dropping towards the ground. Johnathyn’s grip reflexively tightens, driving most of the air from my chest but he says nothing, beyond a quick gasp. The fireball disappears.

“I got it! I … got it!” I wheeze, struggling to get us back to the level we were as the wolves leap with renewed enthusiasm. It only takes me a few seconds to get us back on an even keel but the sudden drop was still pretty damn scary. A few more feet and one of them might have gotten to us.

Johnathyn takes several deep breaths. “Are you certain that you can …”

“Yeah. I can.”

“Why not simply cut off their heads as you did with the Guard?”

“Have you seen their necks? I’d be hacking forever and we’d drop like a rock. Once started, fire takes care of itself.”

“Then you had best kill that large brute, the one we first saw. He is the leader. If you kill him, the pack may break up.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the help.”

“Best be quick about it.”

Amen to that. I need to split my concentration. I’ll take it slower this time. Opening and closing my hand several times, the heat returns but I don’t look at it. Instead, I search for the Alpha wolf. He’s easy to spot, highlighted by the surging luminance flowing from my hand. While the other wolves throw themselves at us and against each other, snapping and snarling, it just stands there, watching and waiting, occasionally biting other wolves who carelessly run into it.

Clearly not an animal to fuck with.

The area around us gets brighter and brighter as the fireball feeds on my magic. The pack of wolves seems to be thinning out a bit, the ones at the center still raging at us but the ones on the fringe seem to be having second thoughts about the whole “let’s eat the people” thing. The Alpha hasn’t budged. If anything, it looks more determined.

I steal a glance at the fireball. It seems to be just about as big as last time. We’re pretty steady in the air. Now’s as good as time as any.

“You ready?” I ask.

“More than. Do not miss.”

“As if. I played ball in high school.”

I spin us just a little in the air to free up my right arm. It sees the motion, crouching, getting ready to move. This throw is going to be more elbow and wrist than arm. As I bring my arm back, the wolf in front of the Alpha leaps towards us, then the Alpha bounds into the air, pushing off of the first wolf that jumped, giving the Alpha an enormous boost. It’s flying straight towards us, claws outstretched, jaws wide open. I practically stuff the fireball down his throat then twist away as the Alpha explodes into flames, dropping bits of burning hair and flesh on the rest of the pack. They squeal and yelp as they break away, running into the dark woods, some trailing sparks and glowing embers as they slowly fade to nothing, mixing with the deepening shadows.

I take us over to the still burning tree and make a not so smooth landing about twenty decileagues away, dropping us the last few feet. I land on my feet but stumble, ending up on my ass; Johnathyn sprawled, face down, on the ground a few feet away from me.

“Are you okay? I ask him.

He pushes himself up off the ground, getting to his feet, dusting off his pants and shirt as he stands upright.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He reaches out, offering me his right hand. I take it and he pulls me to my feet, his left hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me close. “That was a new experience for me.”

“Me too. Before that, all my time in the air was thanks to a plane. Living with me is just one new experience after another.”

“So it would seem.” He reaches down, gently touching my hair, brushing something away. “You appear to have singed wolf hair mixed with your own.”

I look down at my blouse. “Wolf hair and other wolf bits. You do too. I think I need a change of clothes … and a bath.”

“That will wait until morning. There is a stream nearby. I am afraid that I dropped your light.”

“Guess we can find that in the morning too. Unless a wolf ate it. No wonder you don’t have dogs in this world. I wouldn’t trust anything descended from those things.”

He lets go of my waist but keeps hold of my right hand, brushing blackened pieces of wolf off both of us with his left hand. I pick a few of the larger bits off his shoulders and out of his hair.

“Let’s return to the wagon and check on our daughter and Dierdra. I want to be certain they are safe” he said. Our daughter. I think I can live with that. “Should you not do something about that tree, Alexia? We do not want the fire to spread.”

“I’ll take care of it after we get to the wagon. I don’t want to walk back in the dark.”

“Nor do I.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They were late. Two days late! The weather has been fine, an early Spring thaw, so that was no excuse. Tyber may not be particularly bright or imaginative but he has always been punctual. A redeeming quality for that plodding dull type.

The only saving grace is that the bar maids here are very comely. The closer you get to Glory, the greater the surplus of good looking women to chose from. They all stream in from the surrounding farms and little villages, hoping to make their fortunes or marry someone who already has. They are no different than their less attractive sisters but the competition is more intense in the capitol city. The lass who has served me these past two evenings is a blonde beauty. If she were ten years younger, she would easily find employment at one of the better bars in Glory but I would guess that she is well past her twentieth year. She can rule this place for another few years before the inevitable decline in her appearance forces her to work in the kitchen. If she is lucky.

For now, she is the best that “The Silver Forge” has to offer. As is this mug of Klatch I have been nursing through the evening. It is my third and I want to keep my wits sharp should Tyber arrive at this late hour.

Suddenly, there is a small swell in the noise level. It seems to be coming from near the door but it quiets down quickly. A few moments later, the crowd near my table parts as a large cloaked figure makes his way towards me. Tyber. At last.

“By Zaphod’s beard, Johnathyn! I have been waiting these past two days for you to …” He stops just short of the table as a woman steps around from behind him. She too is cloaked. He wouldn’t have brought her with him! He knows that women are forbidden in such a place, unless they work here as bar maids or provide other services. She reaches up and slides the hood off her head.

Alexia!

The fool!

“Tyber!” I hiss. “I told you that you were to come alone! How did you get past the door with her in tow?”

She reaches up and gracefully unties the cord holding the cloak tight to her throat.

“Don’t worry, Miran. Johnathyn can be very persuasive when he wants to.”

“Apparently not persuasive enough to convince you not to commit this folly.”

Tyber removes his cloak, dropping it on the chair next to me. “I did not want to be so persuasive, Pegues.” He reaches down, taking Alexia’s cloak in his hands at her shoulders, sliding it off and away from her, dropping it on top of his own.

“Thank you, Johnathyn.”

“You are welcome, my Wife.”

She is dressed in a simple traveling dress, light blue. She is also wearing a gray leather corset, tightly laced from her slim waist to the open top, her large breasts not spilling from the soft cups but nor are they modestly displayed. Her raven hair tumbles loosely about her head and down past her shoulders. Her dark eyes sparkle and her red lips glisten. She wears no makeup of any kind, unlike the women who work here, yet she is the loveliest woman for a hundred leagues in any direction, including Glory. This is not the girl I brought to this world.

“What have you done to yourself?”

Tyber pulls a chair back and Alexia smoothly settles down into it as he pushes it back towards the table. I saw that happen on the other world, occasionally, but never here.

“I haven’t done anything, other than a quick wash up to get the road dirt off. I convinced Johnathyn to bring me with him tonight. We have some things to discuss.”

“We have nothing to discuss. When you arrive at Glory, you will be told what … oh no.”

The innkeeper is headed our way and he does not look happy. He’s almost as large as Tyber and has had much more experience than he in bar fights. I knew that Alexia’s presence would cause trouble. The crowd quiets down, expecting a show.

“I don’t care which of you poofters brought your whore with you, but I run a respectable place. If’n you tain’t out of here in two shakes, I’ll be tossing you out now and tossing out the whore after we’s done wit her.”

I look over at Johnathyn but he hasn’t moved at all. In fact, he acts as if he never even heard the threat. I wince as Alexia turns in her chair to look up at the towering man.

“We are but weary travelers looking for a bit of food and drink … well, mostly drink, though I wouldn’t object if you have Buffalo Chicken Wings on the menu. I think that crack about ‘whore’ requires an apology, also maybe for ‘poofter’ if I knew what that meant.”

Johnathyn leans in closer to her. “Poofter refers to a man who enjoys sexual relations with other men.”

“Oh well, then definitely, you need to apologize to my husband for that one. Though, I don’t know if it is necessary for Miran. Is it, Miran?”

I don’t get a chance to answer her as the bartender steps between her and Johnathyn.

“Be silent, slattern! If I wish to hear a whore speak, I will beat her until she - uughh!”

His breath catches in his throat as he gasps for air, mouth agape, eyes wide open, face struck with pain.

Alexia just smiles up at him. “I’d like that apology. And some appetizers. On the house.”

The bartender struggles to speak. “You can … suck … my … AAAGGHH!” His knees buckle but he grabs the edge of the table to keep from falling to the floor. By bending over, he brought his face near Alexia’s. She put her right index finger under his chin and moves his head until they are eye to eye.

“An apology. To me. To my Husband. Now. Or lose them. Do you understand?”

He clenches his teeth, fire in his eyes. It looks like he might spit in her face when another wave of agony sweeps through his body. When it passes, he weekly nods his head. She pulls her finger back, releasing his head. He slowly stands up, relief clear on his face.

“My apologies, Sir … and Lady.”

Alexia smiles brightly. “Apologies accepted, my good man. Let us speak no more about it. Please have one of your nice waitresses come over and take our order.”

He waives a hand at the bar maid who had been with me all night and gingerly walks back to the bar, his legs wide, barely lifting his feet off the floor. The older blonde beauty carefully nears the table.

“We will both have a mug of your best Klatch,” orders Johnathyn.

“And please have the bar tender chop up some fruit and add it to mine,” says Alexia.

The bar maid is clearly confused. “Fruit?”

“Yes, anything that’s sweet. About one quarter full of finely chopped fruit. You should try it. Takes the edge right off. Thank you very much.”

The bar maid quickly nods her head and scuttles off. I scan the crowd, trying to gauge their mood. It isn’t good. Alexia chuckles lightly.

“I was crushing his balls pretty good there. He’s a tough son of a bitch. I can respect that. He’s a bigot and he’s wrong but tough.”

“Tyber, what possessed you to bring her into a bar? It can only mean trouble, which means attention, something we cannot afford right now.”

“She insisted, Pegues, and I agreed with her. It is time that we set a few things straight and now is as good a time as any, as is this place.”

Alexia leans towards me. “You see, Miran, I haven’t spent a lot of time in your world but I’m already fed up with the way you men treat women. I’ve decided there are going to be some changes made about that and the sooner your people know my intentions, the better for everyone. Hold that thought, it appears we have more company.”

I look around, there are almost a dozen men, some more in their cups than the others, loosely gathered around our table. One of the less inebriated takes the initiative.

“We don’t know what you did to ol’ Peterwate to get him to back off but you shant do the same to us. When we are done with ye, you’ll know not to disobey your betters. Am I right, men?”

Several men start to shout but just as the cries begin to grow stronger, there is the distinctive sound and then smell of flatulence. The cries fade away as the sound continues on, coming from the first man to speak, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. As soon as he stops, a second standing man begins, as does a third. Then another. And another. It is soon a ghastly chorus, the air fouled almost to the point of sickness. A number of men head for the door but most do not. The first man speaks again.

“What did you do, you …”

His stomach emits a loud low rumble, stretching out for several milicycles. The rumbling spreads to the other men who had gathered around our table. There is a sudden rush towards the waste room but it is too late. One man after another clutches his stomach, bending over in a crouch, overcome by the cramps and then each man … soils himself. The sound is horrific, the grunts and groans, the cries of anguish, the muffled sound of expulsion and finally what comes dribbling down the pants legs, spilling out onto the floor, some more of a flood than a dribble. The smell is as fetid as any I have ever encountered.

Only the men who challenged Alexia were affected directly, the rest are affected by the display and run for the door. Just then, the bar maid returns with their order, setting it on the table with a large smirk on her face. Alexia picks up her mug and takes a long sip, then smacks her lips.

“Very good! My compliments to your bartender. You should really try this. It makes Klatch almost tolerable.”

“I will do so, my Lady.”

“How did you do that?” I ask.

She takes another sip from her mug while Tyber joins her. She sets the drink back on the table. “You stimulate the lower intestines, relax the sphincter a bit and let nature take its course. The fact that most of them were drunk, more or less, helped. Tell your people that we will talk when we get to Glory and then Johnathyn and I will decide if we are going to help you. We will need enforceable guarantees about specific changes or no deal. Make sure they understand that. You ready to go, Johnathyn?”

He upends his mug, draining it. “I am now.” He stands, pulling out her chair for her as she stands. He then drapes her cloak over her shoulders and dons his own. “Careful where you step, Alexia.”

She looks about the floor, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Good point. Make sure to tip the waitress generously, Miran. I’ll know.” Tyber offers her his arm and she gracefully takes it. They start to walk away but pause, talking together quietly for the briefest moment. Alexia turns and returns to the table.

“Johnathyn reminded me of something. You should have told me the story of Zaphod and Alexia.”

My stomach growls several times. I look down at my waist as I feel the beginnings of cramps. When I look back up, there is a cruel smile on Alexia’s crimson lips.

“You REALLY should have told me, Pegues.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Alexia’s hand rests lightly on my own as we leave “The Silver Forge”, a number of men scattering when we walk out into the street. There are also several smiling women standing together in groups of two and three.

It is amazing how fast word spreads. They nod their heads slightly towards Alexia as we pass, some even briefly curtsey. She smiles and nods in return. We need to get back to our wagon as quickly as possible before any guards show up. If they have heard the entire story, they may be a little slow in responding. Despite our need for haste, I won’t deny Alexia her moment. We move through the town at a slow, dignified pace.

“Are you happy with how it all occurred?”

“Johnathyn, you were perfect. So suave. You handled that chair like a maitre d’.”

“What is that?”

“A professional host.”

“That hardly seems like a job for a man.”

“Don’t knock it. Some of them make good money. I appreciate that you didn’t get up and pound anyone in the bar. I know how those kinds of insults affect you.”

“No man should tolerate his wife being spoken of in such a way, even if she shouldn’t be there in the first place.”

“I know I crossed some lines but someone has to take the first step if there’s ever going to be change. We agreed about that.”

“I remember. We also agreed that I would take no action unless absolutely necessary. I kept my end of the bargain, though it was difficult.”

“Again, I appreciate it, thank you. No one was seriously hurt, just embarrassed.”

“What about Pegues?”

“He’ll probably have to burn those pants.”

“The shoes also.”

“Yeah, maybe that shirt too. Let’s duck behind this building.”

She tightens her grip on my arm, pulling me behind a large building just off the main street. There are no lights in any of the windows. The only illumination is the three quarter moon and stars in the clear sky overhead. She takes my hand firmly in hers.

“Do you think anyone saw us come back here?”

“No. We are alone.”

“Good. Are you ready?”

“Are you certain about this? It seems so … unnatural.”

“Of course it’s unnatural. That’s what makes it so much fun.”

She is correct about that. I think every man has that fantasy at one time or another in their lives. I know I have. “Yes, I am ready.”

“Hang on!”

We float gently up into the air, hand in hand, until the surrounding buildings are far below us then we head west, our speed quickly increasing until the air is loudly rushing past us. Alexia shouts to be heard.

“Our wagon is two days closer to Glory than Pegues knows so we’ve got at least a two day cushion to work on our own plan before we met with him and his people.”

“Will Dierdra’s friends be there on time?” I shout back.

“I don’t know. We’ll go with what we’ve got and work the others in as they arrive.”

“How long before we reach the wagon?”

“An hour, maybe less. We could go faster but it’ll get pretty cold if we do. Wind chill.”

It is already very cold. “An hour is good. We can be down in time to get well rested before an early start tomorrow morning.”

She laughs. “Whatever you say, Dear.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *
Flying is so exhilarating that it takes me several hours to calm down and get to sleep. For some reason, Johnathyn seems to take it all in stride. The man is a rock and then he can be so sensitive when he deals with Leeanna. I’m lucky he’s on my side. Unfortunately, he went to bed and fell right to sleep as soon as we got back. Lee was still up, Dierdra couldn’t get her to stay down and I don’t know how hard she tried. They both wanted to know what happened. I gave Leeanna the cleaned up version and promised the unedited account to Dierdra but she told me that it could wait until morning, she had stayed up mostly to make sure we returned safe and sound. They were all asleep within thirty minutes and I was still jazzed, wide awake.

Which explains why I woke up to the jostling motions of a wagon rolling down a rough road. And a cold breakfast. I sit up, pushing the blankets aside.

“Morning,” says Dierdra.

“How long have we been on the road?”

“Not long.”

“Why didn’t someone wake me?”

“Johnathyn knew you didn’t fall asleep for several hours last night. He thought you might need to sleep as long as you could.”

“That’s a little tough the way this thing bounces around. It could really use a decent set of shocks. I must look terrible.”

“You don’t.”

“How could I not? No sleep, bed head.”

“No, you don’t. I should have recognized it earlier.”

“What are you talking about, Dierdra?”

“The changes were so slight at first and occurred over a long period but yet, in total, so significant.”

“What changes?”

“You’ve changed.”

“Of course I’ve changed. I was a man and now I’m a woman.”

“Since then, since we first met.”

“I don’t understand. You mean the flying thing?”

“The increase in your powers is part of it. The changes have been so slow, a little at a time, but when you look at the whole effect, there is no question.”

“I’m the same today as the first day I got here.”

“Your hair is perfect. None of the bed head that you refer to. It has been perfect each day you have awoken these past two weeks.”

“That’s impossible. It’s just the way I wear it. If I’m working, it’s a pony tail, if not, it’s loose. No big deal.”

“Your hair is dark but lustrous, full and wavy, framing your face just so. A woman’s hair does not do that without much effort but you spend little to no time on your appearance.”

“I never cared a whole lot when I was back on my world. I exercised to keep in shape but that was mostly a health thing. I’d get dressed up and try to look good if I had a date or something, particularly if she was staying over, but that was about it. It just wasn’t that important.”

“And yet you are more beautiful today than the day we met. Much more.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dierdra. I think it’s just your imagination.”

“It is more than your hair. Your eyes sparkle, your skin is flawless, your eyelashes are long and thick, your lips plump and red. Life on this world is hard. Pampered women living lives of luxury look as you do but even they are not as beautiful. Your breasts last night were …”

“Whoa whoa whoa, let’s not talk about my breasts, okay? I’m not really comfortable going there.”

“Then why did you wear what you did last night?”

“I wanted every man in that bar to know that a woman was there. I didn’t want anyone to think I was trying to sneak in or go undercover.”

“I would say that you were successful.” She pauses a moment before continuing. “In our world, some people believe that every person has two minds, a light mind and a dark mind.”

“You mean good and evil?”

“No. The light mind is what you are aware of daily. What you think about, how you make decisions, all the things you see and hear and smell and feel. It is how your mind fits the world around you everyday. On the other hand, the dark mind is hidden. Where the light mind would be above the surface of a pool of water, the dark mind is below the surface. It is still there even though you are not aware of it. It is working all the time but you are only responsive to it without knowing it. It is very hard to explain.”

“No, I think I got it. We believe the same thing in my world. We call it the conscious and subconscious. The subconscious can process information in the background without the conscious mind even knowing about it.”

“It would seem that you understand.”

“So what’s the big deal? Everyone’s got it.”

“Yes, but you are a powerful witch, learning to control her powers, exploring exactly what you can do. You are discovering that if you can think it, your magic can do it. But it is not just your light mind that has access to this power. Your dark mind also has access.”

Uh oh. “What exactly are you telling me?”

“That sometimes witches can perform magic without knowing it, or controlling it.”

“Has this happened to you?”

“I can only think of two incidents, and they were very small. But you are a Seventy Seven. What would be small for me could be much more serious for you.”

“Like this thing with my hair? I still don’t buy it. Why would my dark mind mess with my looks when my light mind doesn’t give a damn? It makes no sense.”

“It does if your dark mind knows what you truly wish and desire but your light mind is not ready to face it.”

“And what would that be?”

She nods her heads towards the front of the wagon, where Johnathyn and Leeanna are sitting on the bench, side by side, oblivious to our conversation.

“Leeanna?” I ask. “What’s she got to do with how my hair looks or the size of my … breasts?”

“Not just her, but your family. More specifically, your husband.”

“Johnathyn? That’s ridiculous! You do know that Husband and Wife stuff is just us joking around, right? I mean, sometimes we do it because it’s our cover, but other than that, strictly screwing around.”

“So your light mind says, but your dark mind has other ideas. Your dark mind wants him, wants him to be attracted to you, wants him to mate with you, wants to bear his …”

“Time out! Even if I believed I’d changed … which I don’t … how do you know I did all of this for him? Maybe I’ve got the hots for you? Did you ever consider that?”

“I did, but I prefer men.”

“Well, I prefer women.”

“So you say.”

“Yes, I DO say. Listen Dierdra, I’ll keep an eye out for any unintended magic but I’ve got enough trouble just doing what I want to do without screwing up. I don’t really think my subconscious is giving me a makeover to seduce Johnathyn. That’s just too fucked up. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention your theories to him. Our relationship is tough enough as it is, what with me being a woman and all.”

“I will be silent but, eventually, even a man would become aware of the changes. I suspect his dark mind already knows what is happening and is encouraging him to do something about it.”

“Eewwww! That’s gross! That’s all I need! Just keep all of this stuff under your hat, okay? For my sake?”

“As you wish, Alexia.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Patron Miller reluctantly invited me to stay the night after our last group meeting. My horse somehow became lame while in his stable. Likely the nail I drove into his hoof just after I arrived tonight.

I wanted to be here when Pegues’s pigeon arrived. Even if Miller was not forthcoming, I should be able to discover the messages contents, one way or another. He put me up in a room near the back of his home on the ground floor, well away from his living quarters. I’m sure he did so as an insult but it gave me the freedom to examine the rest of the house without disturbing him. The pigeon coop was on the roof of the stables, managed by one of the stable hands, a boy who I discovered was fond of drink. A quick dip into the Patron’s stocks and I had the lads word that he would alert me when the pigeon arrived.

Several decicycles after dawn, the boy knocked on my door as he passed by on the way to deliver the message to Miller. I waited a few moments before approaching his bedroom suite on the second floor then knocked on his door.

“Patron. If I could trouble you for a moment? I believe I have a solution to the problem with my horse.” There is no reply, so I knock again. “Patron? I don’t wish to trouble you. Perhaps I could …”

“Come in, Schicalli.”

I turn the handle and push the door open slowly, sticking my head into the room but averting my eyes just a little so as not to seem too eager.

“Where are you, Patron?”

“Over by the window.”

He’s standing by the window, angling a small note against the light from the still rising sun.

“Is that from Pegues? Is all well?”

He continues to read the note. I take a few steps closer but stop, giving him an opportunity to finish it in privacy. Suddenly, he rolls it up into a small ball, pops it into his mouth, and swallows it!

“PATRON! Is that wise?!”

“The security is absolute! There are only two of us who know the contents of those notes.”

“What if, Zaphod forbid, something should happen to you? We would be at a loss!”

“Pegues would know what to do.”

“He is hardly the man you are, Patron. How far away is he now?”

“Not far. They should be here within the next three days. He seems to be having a bit of trouble with our witch.”

“Then it is best they arrive here soon so that you may apply a stronger hand. I have always doubted Pegues ability to deal with a woman like that.”

“That woman is actually a man despite her appearances. Do not forget that, Schicalli.”

“That is true, Patron, but I have not been impressed with the men I have met from that world. To knowingly allow yourself to become a woman … it is just hard for me to accept. What kind of man does that? Certainly not a real man, such as yourself.”

He nods sagely, accepting my praise. “Also true, Barton. We shall see what is the best use of her once we meet. As for now, you may use one of my horses to return home this morning and return it at our next meeting. Apparently the witch demands to meet all of us before she will agree to help us.”

“Isn’t that risky?”

“Yes, which is why we will not be doing that, though a meeting of some kind will likely be required.”

I bow slightly. “I will return home and await your command. Good day, Patron.”

“Good day, Schicalli.”

I hurry back to the room and pack my bags. The First Minister needs to know that it is time to gather the Queen’s Guard and put an end to this pitiful attempt at revolution.

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Johnathyn had pushed the horses pretty hard and we’d picked up almost another entire day by the time we rolled into the outskirts of Dupreeville, a town less than a day’s ride from Glory. The place is named after the head guy of the government. Seems like a big suck up move to me.

Dierdra said Beckwith chose this town because it was big enough that a few extra people coming and going wouldn’t attract attention and it was close enough to Glory to act as a base of operations. As we pull into the courtyard of the hotel, I’d say she made a good choice. It seems like a busy place, more business and trade than residential. Lots of places to gather together without sticking out like a sore thumb.

There was a message waiting for us when we checked in. An address and time for a meeting. Dierdra and I managed to convince Johnathyn that this first meeting should just be us girls, that having a man there might cause problems with the sisterhood vibe. He eventually agreed to stay behind with Lee. Serves him right for all those meetings with Pegues without me.

The meeting place turns out to be a dimly lit warehouse off the main road. As we walk towards it, I notice we pass the occasional woman, covered by a heavy cloak and hood, standing in the shadows of nearby buildings. They wait for us to pass, then pull further back into the darkness. I’ve seen at least three of them by the time Dierdra and I reach the side door of the building. Another hooded and cloaked figure steps out of the gloom.

“I see you weren’t followed.” It was Beckwith. “Where is that husband of yours?”

“Back at the hotel, with our daughter,” I answer. She smirks and opens the door. We all enter and she locks it behind us. She then leads us along a winding path through all the boxes and barrels until we reach the main floor. She stops and throws her hood back.

“We will meet here,” she says.

“Not exactly a silven glen, is it?”

“Where are the others?” asks Dierdra.

“Some are here, some are outside.”

“Waiting to see if it’s a trap?” I ask.

Beckwith glares at me. “Yes.”

I drop my cloak over a nearby barrel. “Good. I don’t want to deal with idiots. Once they’re sure we’re legit, we can get this party started.”

Dierdra and I sit down in a couple of chairs while Beckwith lights a lantern, setting it high on a stack of boxes. Nothing happens for several minutes then four hooded women emerge from the surrounding barrels and boxes, each from a different direction, all converging on the opening where we sit. They stop and remove their hoods, as if on cue. We stand.

“I am Alexia Thompson. Daughter of Jackie Thompson.”

“I am Dierdra Denson. You all know of me.”

The four look among themselves for a moment, then the tallest steps forward, silver blond hair in a tight bun.

“I am Steinvild Bengsston.”

The next is short and dark skinned. If she was from my world, I’d say she was Italian. “My name is Emlilly Sousa.”

The third woman was of average height and appears to be younger than the other two, like around forty. “I am Sarah Finniss of the Western provinces.”

The last woman, slim with brown hair mixed with gray, spoke. “I would prefer to remain nameless for now. They say you are a Seventy Seven.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You do not know for certain?”

“I’m not from around here. In my land, heritage is less important. Are you asking for proof?”

“We are.”

“I can assure you all,” says Dierdra. “I have been with Alexia for several weeks. She is without a doubt a Seventy Seven.”

“That’s okay, Dierdra. Doubting Thomas’s. What do you want? A card trick? Rabbit from a top hat? Silk scarves from my sleeve?”

Dierdra touches my arm. “Alexia, nothing too … flashy. We are in a city. We cannot afford the attention.”

“Gotcha’. How about this?”

A barrel the size of a fifty five gallon drum slowly lifts off the ground and floats up in the air. It is joined by a second and then a third. They move around in a circle while tumbling end over end and spinning on their axis. I keep them going for about thirty seconds and then put each one back where it came from.

“Impressive,” says the unknown witch.

“It’s a start,” adds Beckwith. “I have seen her healing powers. They are like none I have witnessed before. She is powerful. More than Opulessa? Who can say? The question is, do we wish to join forces and take control of this land?”

I shake my head. “That’s not the question, Beckwith. The question is do you want freedom from oppression? Freedom from this government or any future government? Do you want equality for all, men and women? Do you want a future for your children and their children that includes better education, better health and a better way of life? Because if you aren’t, I’m not interested. This is about individual rights and how the government can protect them. I don’t know how much you’ve been told about me but I’m not from this world. My family was killed on the orders of the leaders of your world and they will pay for that. At first I was only interested in vengeance but now, I am concerned with what is left after my vengeance. I want to leave a better world behind when I return to my world. Let me make this point clear. I am not staying after this is done. I’m going home. You’ll run your own world but I will not help a group of female despots replace a group of male despots. There has got to be fundamental change or I’m not part of this. The short version is I’m not here to talk you into helping me. You’re here to talk me into helping you.”

I’m sure that’s not what they were planning on hearing but I want them to know I’m serious but that I’ve got terms.

Bengsston waves the other four closer to her and they huddle, talking quietly among themselves. While they talk, Dierdra sidles next to me.

“It would have been better to get them on our side first before making demands.”

“I didn’t make any demands. I’m willing to do this but only if it will create real change. If they aren’t interested in what I have in mind, I’ll need to either find someone who is or drop the whole thing. We don’t have much time left. Better to find out now than later. If Beckwith wasn’t upfront with them, not my problem.”

“But you want this to work. You want to be the creator of change. This is a difficult concept for them, for anyone in this world. I have been with you for much longer than they have. I have gotten used to the ideas. I agree with you now but was not certain about it early on.”

“What are you saying, Dierdra?”

“Tread lightly, if you can. Ultimately, we all want the same thing.”

“If they do, we can do business.”

The five of them continue to talk for several minutes then they break the huddle.

“What if we say no?” asks Beckwith.

“I’ll probably go through with whatever Pegues and his people have in mind, as long as I get my man, let the chips fall with the rest of it.”

“And if we say yes?” asks Bengsston.

“We start to plan on how we’re going to either use or remove your Queen.”

“She’s not my Queen,” Beckwith grumbles.

“You do not have a plan already?”

“I have the framework of a plan. The details depend on our resources and further information.”

“What kind of further information?” asks Sousa.

“How do witches actually fight?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Alexia still refuses to allow me to accompany her and Dierdra to their meetings with the other witches. There are ten of them now and they’ve moved to a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Alexia says it is to avoid attention when they do training. I am not comfortable about them being alone this close to Glory. There are many more members of the Queen’s Guard in the area, sometimes led by people from Alexia’s world. They are armed with the other world guns. I have to admit that I feel more comfortable knowing that we have two of those guns well hidden in our wagon.

Both Alexia and I have fired a few shots with the guns. They are very impressive but, I still prefer my own gun if I need to kill something at a long distance.

It is almost dawn of the fifth day since we arrived at Dupreeville and I am getting more anxious with each passing minute. I told Leeanna when I put her to bed that her mother would be home soon but that was cycles ago.

I feel so powerless.

Even if I knew exactly where they were meeting, I couldn’t leave Leeanna to go search for them and I certainly couldn’t take her with me. There is nothing I can do but doing nothing is driving me mad.

The quiet of the night is interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock of the door to our room. I rush over and throw it open. There stands Alexia, eyes wide open, looking shocked, supporting Dierdra who is leaning against her.

“Where have you two been?!” I hiss, not wanting to wake Leeanna. “It is almost dawn!”

They limp into the room, quietly shutting the door behind them. “We know what time it is, Johnathyn. Dierdra’s not moving very well so it took awhile to get back.”

“What happened? Did you encounter Guardsmen?”

“No. I got a little … upset at practice tonight.”

“YOU did this?”

“It was an accident, okay?”

“I am not hurt badly” Dierdra sighs.

“How did this happen, Alexia?”

“Look, I don’t want to get into this right now.” She points at Leeanna still asleep on a pad on the floor in the corner of the room. “I don’t want to wake her up.”

“We can use my room,” says Dierdra.

“What if she wakes up and no one’s here? She’d freak out.”

“I am sure that she won’t wake for a few more hours …”

“Too late,” Leeanna mumbles, opening her eyes and turning her head towards us. “I’m up.”

Alexia helps Dierdra sit on the end of the bed and hurries over to Leeanna, reaching down, gently sweeping her hair from her eyes. “I’m sorry Lee. It’s late. I’m late. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Leeanna sits up, rubbing her eyes. “Where were you? I was worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry. If this world had phones I’d have called. We had a little accident, that’s all.”

Dierdra sits back on the bed, groaning lightly, propping her leg on a nearby chair. “Accident? You broke my leg.”

“I didn’t mean to. I fixed it, didn’t I? Beckwith shouldn’t have hit me when my back turned. I’d called time out!”

“She did not understand what ‘time out’ meant!”

“The hell she didn’t! That BIT …” Alexia glances over at Leeanna “woman has had it in for me from the start! Just because she’s all jealous about my boob …” another glance at Leeanna “the way I look is no excuse. I don’t have to put up with her … stuff!”

I raise my hands chest high, palms out. “Let us all calm down. We do not want someone to report us to the innkeeper. What happened?” They both start to speak but I extend my arms towards them. “Alexia?”

She throws just the slightest smile at Dierdra then she turns towards me.

“The other girls were in two groups of five. Britanna, Emlilly, Leila, Sarah and Silva were one group and Bellah, Olga, Pamela, Dierdra and Beckwith were the other.”

“Why two groups?”

“Because they’re stronger as a group. That’s probably where the idea of a coven came from. Get a bunch of witches together and their power is multiplied.”

“Why a group of five?”

“We started out as teams of two, then three, four and now five. We want to gradually get the groups stronger until it’s all of them versus me, so it’s more like Opulessa.”

I look over at Dierdra, who is slowly rubbing her leg. “Is that possible? Can you match Opulessa?”

“No, we cannot. We can get close, but one powerful witch will almost always beat a group of less powerful witches.”

“Almost always?” Perhaps, if we can find enough witches, Alexia will not need to risk her life for a world that is not hers.

“We would need to be … it is hard to explain. More … connected. Thinking and acting as one instead of a group of individuals. Just being together increases the amount of magic available for all of us to use but, no matter how much magic there is, a Forty Five or a Fifty Two can only tap so much. A single Seventy Seven is more effective than a group of Fifty Twos unless they concentrate so hard that they are practically one person and, even then, it would likely not be enough.”

Alexia interrupts. “Hey, who’s telling this story? Anyway, we’d been at it for almost two hours, taking breaks now and then to cool off.”

“To cool off?”

“Yeah. It gets pretty hot when a bunch of us get together and start tossing shots of magic back and forth. That’s probably how the stories about groups of naked witches started.”

I quickly peek at Leeanna, who has been listening to us talk. Her eyes are wide open in shock, as is her mouth.

“You’re all NAKED?! Outside?! In the WOODS?!” she gasps.

Alexia blushes a light rose. “We didn’t start out that way. Emlilly was the first to take off her blouse and Pamela was the first with her skirt. One thing led to another. It really works for the best. It’s easier to clean up after practice without bringing a change of clothes.”

Leeanna starts to laugh. “No wonder you won’t let Father come with you!”

She blushes an even deeper red. “There is that. Most of the other girls weren’t comfortable with a man being present even without the naked thing. That came later. Though the ones who had seen him didn’t complain about it.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

She smiles at me. “You know. What with those arms and that chest. Your All-American good looks. Most of the girls think I’m getting the better end of the stick. So to speak. When I told them the marriage thing was just a dodge, the interest level shot way up.”

Now it is my turn to feel warm in the face. I hope it does not show. “You were telling us about the fight.”

“Uhh yeah, I was. We’d been mixing it up.” She looks over at Dierdra. “And I was sandbagging, not wanting to hurt anyone. The two groups had been throwing whatever they could at me, taking turns so each one could get some time at the higher power levels and I could practice blocking, but I’d occasionally toss one back, but I’d warn them it was coming. No surprises. Beckwith was leading one group and I’d just hit her good, no worse than they’d done me all day or I’d done them before … not much worse. Anyway, we were trying to keep about fifty feet apart and we’d gotten too close. I signaled for a time out.” She put the palm of one outstretched hand on the tips of the fingers of the other outstretched hand. “I even said ‘time out’. I was walking back to the original mark and then BAM, I get one square in the back! Knocks me into a damn mud puddle! I’ve got mud in my eyes, in my nose, my mouth … everywhere. And I do mean everywhere!”

“She did not understand,” says Dierdra. “She meant no harm.”

“She was laughing her ass off! No one else was laughing.”

“We were all afraid of what you might do. We were right.”

“What did she do?” I ask.

“She threw a tree at us.”

“It wasn’t a tree! It was just a log,” Alexia protested.

“That was still rooted in the ground and was at least twice the length of the wagon” Dierdra replied. “You tore it out of the ground and threw it right at all of us!”

“Okay, so it was a big log. I was pissed. If I hadn’t been still on guard, she might have killed me! She’s been on my ass from day one and we both know why.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“DUH? She’s jealous! Look at me then look at her. Us running around all naked just makes it worse.” Alexia stands in front of me, hands on her hips. “Watching my firm breasts, my tight butt, lean legs and arms. Nothing jiggling that isn’t supposed to. She can’t stand it. Just think about it, Johnathyn.”

With her standing so close to me, eyes blazing, dark hair loose but full, smelling of … I do not know what but it is burned into my memory, I can think of nothing else. The image of her, naked, in the woods, in all her glory, fills my mind. Somehow, she seems to become more beautiful every day. I do not know how. I never see her doing anything more to care for her appearance than simple soap and water but her loveliness is undeniable. It makes me very … uncomfortable. I hear a snapping sound.

“Hey! Johnathyn? Wake up.”

It is Alexia, leaning down in front of me, snapping her fingers near my face. I can see deep into her bodice, smell her intoxicating scent.

“Yes … yes, jealousy. I understand.”

“Where were you?”

“I was thinking about what you said, Alexia. I agree, she might be jealous of you. Most women would be.”

She snorts. “There’s no doubt about it. I can see it in her eyes.”

“So how is it that Dierdra’s leg was broken?”

“Yeah. That. Well … when I threw the log …”

“Tree,” corrects Dierdra.

“Fine. Tree. Everyone moved out of the way. Dierdra slipped and it just barely hit her.”

“Breaking my leg in three places.”

“I fixed it, didn’t I? Besides, I’ve apologized like a hundred times. I also took care of that old damaged cartilage in your knee. You’ll be better than new.”

“So, I should thank you?”

“Look, take it up with Beckwith, okay? For the last time, and I do mean the LAST time, I’m sorry I didn't control my temper better when I was blindsided. You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.”

“I suppose I did. Apology accepted.”

I am glad to see that they are letting bygones be bygones. “You are making progress then?”

“Yeah, quite a bit. The girls are getting into it.”

“The power is intoxicating, almost addictive,” says Dierdra. “None of us have ever experienced anything like it before. Always in the past we have avoided one another. We talked, we communicated but we rarely met face to face. All to avoid attention. But now, with so many of us in one place… the magic is just hanging in the air, waiting to be embraced. Things that were so difficult before are simple now. New powers appear daily. Some of us can actually fly!”

Alexia smiles. “I taught ‘em that one. Beckwith hasn’t gotten the hang of it yet. Another reason she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Alexia,” says Dierdra. “You both have strong personalities. She was the unofficial leader, if you will, of our small group before you arrived. She was also the one who worked with the other groups. She has done quite a lot to get us where we are today. A little appreciation could go a long way to ease tensions.”

“Dierdra could have something there, Alexia. You do have a strong personality. Very strong. Extremely strong. There have been times that …”

“I get it. I’m a bitch. A prima donna bitch.”

I sigh. She can be so sensitive on occasion. Half the time I do not even know what she’s talking about. What is a ‘prima donna’?
“No one is saying you are …” a quick look confirms Leeanna is still listening. Attentively. “… one of those but a little graciousness can go a long way.”

“That goes both ways, Johnathyn.”

“Yes, but you can be the bigger …” she glares at me. “Ahhh, better woman. You are a Seventy Seven after all.”

She grabs a towel from a hanger on the wall. “I’ll think about it while I’m in the little girl’s room.” She throws the towel over her shoulder and walks out, closing the door behind her.

I shake my head. “I think we have a very large wolf by the tail, Dierdra.”

Leeanna grunts lightly. “You are just now finding that out, Father? Where have you been the last few months?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

We arrived in Glory just a few hours late. It really is different from all the other towns we have seen since I got here so many weeks ago. The smell, for one thing. The place is full of horses and oxen. They use ox for the extra big wagons. Oxen also leave behind extra large piles of crap. The horses make their contributions too. As do the thousands of people. There’s no sewer system that I can see so the waste gets moved by hand. When it gets moved at all.

Maybe it’s just the part of the city we’re in but I haven’t seen anything other than third world conditions so far. Disease has got to be rampant..

If you can ignore the smell and get your eyes looking up, out of the mucky streets, things change. The buildings are much larger, four and five stories. What passes for a skyscraper on this world. I’d love to show them the Empire State Building. Still, it’s impressive. Glory is clearly the biggest city I’ve seen since crossing over. We’ve been in steady traffic for over thirty minutes and aren’t that close to where we’re headed.

Leeanna is sitting between Johnathyn and I, all squeezed onto the driving bench. She has her arm wrapped around my waist and I’ve got an arm around her shoulder. She hasn’t stopped pointing and talking since we crossed the border.

There was an actual fence and a gate, first one we’ve seen the entire trip. It wasn’t a Berlin Wall or anything. No razor wire, no chain link fence but it was clearly a barrier and we had to sign in. Give our names and state our business. Thankfully, we didn’t need a pass or official papers.

Once past the gate, we joined the gradually growing throng headed for downtown Glory. I’m happy to be traveling by wagon than on foot like a lot of those poor wretches.

Leeanna smiles at me, gripping my right hand.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“It’s certainly big.”

“Not Glory, Mother. This.” She grasps the gold ring on my right index finger between her thumb and forefinger.

Johnathyn had surprised me last night. He came to me just before bed time.

“Alexia … I do not know about the customs of your world but, on our world, husbands and wives exchange rings on the first anniversary of their wedding. Our papers say we were married a year ago today. I know they are not correct but anyone checking them will expect to see a ring on both your hand and mine.” He reaches into his pocket and removes a small cloth bag, which he opens and upends over the palm of his left hand. Two gold bands fall out, one larger than the other. “I say this only because this is our custom and if we are supposed to be married …”

“Then we need to look the part. I get it. No problem. When did you get these?”

He looks a little sheepish. “Dupreeville. Leeanna had to remind me, I’d forgotten all about them.”

I reach out and carefully pick up the smaller ring from his palm. “Then I guess I have her to thank for my first piece of jewelry. How much?”

“I cannot say. It is not right to talk about such things.”

“Well you ought to get Pegues or his people to pay for them. There’s no reason you should be out the money.”

“No. It is my pleasure.”

“Surely the revolution can pop for a couple of rings.”

“I insist. I am your husband.”

“If you say so.” I start to slip the ring over my finger.

“No! I must do it!”

I stop. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a cover anyway. Who’s to know?”

“Please, Alexia, allow me?”

He looks so earnest. What’s the harm? I hand him the ring then extend my right hand, fingers spread. He gently takes my hand and slowly slides the ring onto my right index finger, easing past the knuckle until it reaches the base of the finger.

I’ve never been a fan of rings. I had a class ring when in high school but it was a pain in the ass, always banging on things. I was almost happy when an old girlfriend claimed she “lost” it and couldn’t return it when we broke up. She probably pawned the darn thing. Good riddance to both of ‘em.

This ring felt different. It was sized right for one thing, not gripping the finger tightly but also not spinning around loosely. Wonder how he managed that? It was comfortable, not pressing against any of the other fingers. It felt nice. I held out my left hand, palm up.

“My turn.”

“It is not necessary for you to …”

“Hey. When in Rome.”

“You have said that before. What does it mean?”

“It’s a saying on my world. ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’”

“Where is this ‘Rome’?”

“That doesn’t matter. What it means is that if you are in a place, follow the customs of those around you. Does the wife put the husband’s ring on his finger?”

“Yes, but you do not need to …”

“Hand it over, hubby.”

He smiles, dropping the other ring in the palm of my left hand as he releases my right hand. He then holds out his right hand. It’s really big. Lots bigger than mine, bigger than mine was back home. When I look at the ring, there’s no way it’s getting past his knuckle but I try it anyway. As soon as it reaches, the ring slowly eases up and over the knuckle, almost as if the metal stretched and returned to shape. When the ring rests at the base of his finger, the fit appears to be the same as mine. Perfect.

“Johnathyn, are these things magic?”

“Not that I know. I purchased them from a reputable store.”

“Huh. Whatever. They seem to fit. Are there any other wedding anniversary traditions I need to know about?”

The question seems to embarrass him. “No. None that apply to … uhh … our situation.”

“Oh come on, tell me all about it. Who knows? I may say ‘Yes.’”

He just stands there, blushing and growing less comfortable by the second.

“No, there is nothing. We can’t … I couldn’t ask you … we aren’t actually …”

“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to celebrate our anniversary?”

“I’m certain.”

He hurried away. I shouldn’t have teased him like that. He gave up a lot, risked a lot to get us to this point. He’s as good a man as I have ever known. I should have told him that. Lee pulls on my finger.

“What about the ring?”

I look over at Johnathyn.

“It’s great. I’m honored to wear it. No woman has ever had a better husband than your father.”

“Reeaallly?” she squeals.

“Really.”

She hugs me tighter. Johnathyn turns his head to look at me, raising his eyebrows in an unasked question. I look him square in the face.

“Yes, Johnathyn. Really.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I have waited a long time for this day.

Pegues and his witch arrive in Goshen tonight. Patron Miller has called some of the group to meet with her, to determine if she is up to the task. It is fortunate that I have earned his trust and am included.

The meeting is being held in the secret room in his barn. There are four other men besides Patron Miller present, one being Bickle Rholls. I recognize the other three but still do not know their names. No matter. As long as the timing of the future raid is good, we can capture most of the rebels regardless of who they are.

There is the faint ringing of a bell, bringing all of us to attention. The bell is the guard’s signal that someone friendly approaches. This should be them.

There is nothing but silence then footsteps can be heard, initially light but then heavy. The door to the room slides open, revealing Pegues, still dressed in a dusty riding cloak. He obviously took no time to make himself presentable. As Pegues enters the room another man steps to the door, a man so large that he has to turn sideways to squeeze past the narrow door frame. The man is dressed as a common laborer and is almost too big for the room. Once he is clear of the door, I can see the third person, a woman wearing a hooded cloak, the hood over her head hanging low, covering all but her chin from my view.

Pegues takes a moment to knock the dust off his cloak, momentarily filling the air with the dirt before some hidden device pulls clean air into the small room.

“Patron, … gentlemen … I give you Alexia Thompson, our friend from the other side.”

Patron Miller manages to keep from smiling at the mention of her name but others do not. The witch does not say anything.

“Thank you, Pegues,” says Miller. “And who is this large man by your side?”

“This is Johnathyn Tyber, the man responsible for bringing Alexia to us safe and unharmed.”

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Tyber. Such loyalty will be handsomely rewarded. Your part in this affair has come to an end. You are excused.”

The man just stands there, as if he had not heard Patron Miller politely tell him to leave. Patron Miller coughs lightly.

“Perhaps you did not hear me, Mr. Tyber. You may leave us. Now.”

“He heard you,” says the witch, throwing back her hood, revealing a mass of black, full bodied, slightly curling hair, piercing dark eyes, radiant skin, plump blood red lips and shockingly white teeth. “He stays.”

“And why is that?” huffs Patron Miller.

She gives all of us a tight smile that does not extend to her eyes. “Because he is the only person in this room that I trust and, if things go wrong, is the only one who could stop me from killing you all.”

Patron Miller is taken aback by her words. “You do not trust Miran Pegues?”

“I know Miran Pegues. Does anymore need be said?”

OH MY! The entire room looks towards Pegues but he does not even react to the insult, he just continues to inspect his cloak for dust, leaving it to Patron Miller to answer.

“Uhhh Miran Pegues is a loyal friend to me and our cause. He has brought you here at great risk to himself.”

“His mother probably loves him too but I don’t care about that or your endorsement of his character. I was tricked into coming to your world and am anxious to return to my own. At first, only one thing kept me here, vengeance for the death of my family. Now I want more than vengeance. I want change.”

“As do we.”

The witch’s smile became more of a sneer. “What kind of change?”

“What you told Pegues. Equality for men and women. Fairness for all. An end to corruption. A government that protects its people not one that exploits them.”

“You talk a good game. Exactly how do you plan to do it?”

Patron Miller shakes his head. “No one but I knows the entire plan. It is our protection against spies.”

“Buddy, if you’ve got spies in this room right now, you’re in big trouble already. Same if they can’t keep a secret. We can help each other but unless you’ve got another Seventy Seven witch in your pocket, I’m in a pretty good bargaining position. If you don’t trust these guys, then there’s no reason for me to trust your group.”

“You have no choice but to work for us. We control the device that can send you home.”

“Interesting point. How’d you come to have that little toy in the first place? I’m guessing that the Consortium wasn’t handing them out like Cracker Jack prizes. Where’d you get yours?”

“Do you agree to do as I say? If not, you may leave now.”

She grabs both her hands and holds them against her chest. “Oh dear! Oh my! What shall I do?! I’m just a poor little witch with no place left to go! Wait … I know what to do. I’ll just march over to that secure compound run by the Winthrop Group and introduce myself as the new witch they’ve been searching for, the one who’s giving them so much concern. All they have to do is send me home, problem solved. Of course, I tell them all about you and your friends.”

Patron Miller is shocked. “How do you know about …”

“We’ve been traveling all over this part of world the last three months, talking to people who’ve been farther than we have. That kind of place stands out in a world like this. Back in my world, not so much. They brought their approach to security with them. It’s the logical place for them to keep their transport device, probably bigger than the one used by Pegues.”

“They could kill you instead of sending you home.”

“They could try. They’d regret it. A lot.”

Patron Miller sits back in his chair, hands in his lap. “The men from your world first sent several people here on what they called ‘recon missions’ before contacting us. One of those men did not return to your world. After they made their presence known, we offered to search for him. He had been sent to my state. My people found what was left of the body near the Agrina Falls, he was killed by wolves. After a very long search, they decided that he had lost his device in the water and it had been swept over the falls.”

“But that’s not what happened, did it?”

“No. That was not what happened. My people found it when they found the body and delivered it to me. Pegues was able to gain the confidence of one of their technical people and learned how to operate the device.”

Alexia scowls. “Miran is good at gaining confidences.”

“One of my many useful skills,” says Pegues.

Patron Miller continues. “Thus, he became our witch finder. You know the rest.”

“I know what happened but not what your plans are.”

This is a golden opportunity for me. If the witch can persuade Patron Miller to reveal his complete plans to all of us tonight, she will accomplish what I could not. I know bits and pieces but not everything. A report on the complete plans will set me in great stead with the First Minister. I notice that I am not the only one leaning forward, anticipating Patron Miller’s reply.

“I will keep my own company about my plans.”

“It is not ‘my plans’ but ‘our plans’, Patron,” says Rholls. “We are all risking our lives, every man here and many others. I, for one, would like to know exactly how you intend to accomplish our objectives.”

“As would I,” says another man.

“We are too close to the date of execution to remain in the dark any longer,” says a third. “We all must work together and we should not be blind in doing so.”

Patron Miller turns towards me. “What say you, Schicalli?”

Do I join with the others or side with Patron Miller? He will likely be forced to reveal his plans under the pressure of the others so there is no harm in supporting Miller.

“I remain your humble servant, Patron, and trust you implicitly. What ever course you choose will certainly be the correct one. What I object to is our acceptance of Pegues word as to the capabilities of this … woman.”

I saw one man lean over and whisper to another, distinctly hearing the phrase “lap wolf”. So be it. What they forget is that a lap wolf can still bite and is already quite close to the throat. The witch turns her attention to me, that tight smile returning to her lips but again skipping her eyes.

“Go on,” she says.

“You come here, making demands of us, when we have no evidence to judge …” She casually extends an arm towards me from beneath her cloak, her hand grasping an invisible object. “… for ourselves if … if … you … uughh …” I can’t speak, can’t breathe. Something has grabbed my throat and is slowly squeezing the breath from me. I try to stand but am held in place, unable to protest in any way but cough and gag. Things start to go gray around me when the witch leans in towards me, her hand still outstretched.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” she growls in a deeper voice than before.

“Release him!” Patron Miller demands.

“As you wish,” she replies. Suddenly, the pressure on my throat is gone. I gasp for air as the gray haze around me lifts. The witch fixes me with a stare so I think it best to remain silent. For now. Patron Miller stands, his hands on the table, leaning forward.

“As it appears that I am outvoted, I will tell you all what you wish to know, but I must caution you that the information must not leave this room! Spies are everywhere. Many who have come before us have either died or disappeared and we are all aware of the rumors about their fates. I do not wish to join them in the grave … or the Queen’s stables.”

I feel a shudder pass through the room. There’s not a man here who hasn’t heard the rumors. When this is done, most of them will likely have a chance to personally discover the truth.

“The plan is to attack during the Queen’s birthday celebrations, probably towards the end, once security has grown a little lax, used to the larger crowds.” He extends his hand towards the unknown man on my left. “Babitch Lappan is to recruit the men we need.”

The man jumps up from his seat. “PATRON! We were to remain anonymous!”

“Not if you wish to know MY secrets, Lappan! If it is honesty you want, it is honesty you get! No more secrets among friends, eh? Not so pleasant now, is it? Lappan is to find the additional men. Rholls, the inside information. Jeremiah Merkel is tasked with finding transportation, Barton Schicalli the guns and Daneel Ahlivar is in charge of communications.”

Each man reluctantly raised his hand as he was identified. This could not be going better for me. Several new names added to my list of traitors.

“Communications?” asks the witch.

“I … I … have a large flock of homing pigeons,” Ahlivar replies.

“Homing pigeons. And I suppose that transportation means …”

“A stable,” says Merkel, “one of the largest in this state. Plus wagons and surreys.”

“Wonderful. Pigeons and horses. I can’t wait to hear about the guns. Schicalli, is it?”

Everyone is now looking at me. This has been a sore point in the plan up to now. The weapons of our world are no match for those from the other side. Our only choice is to steal what we need but that will not be easy. I have been delaying my assignment to give me a chance to identify more traitors but Patron Miller has been pressuring me of late.

“Yes, Barton Schicalli. We will need to acquire otherworld guns and bullets. This may be the most difficult part of the plan. We will need to take them from the Queen’s Guard. Raids on some local outposts should get us what we need.”

“It can also get you dead.”

“Some sacrifices may need to be made,” I solemnly state.

“I see. So you’re leading these raids then, Mr. Schicalli?”

“Me? No. We have other more qualified men for that job.”

The witch looks around the room, frowning deeply. “Men more qualified to make a sacrifice. Is that it?”

“We all have our roles to play,” says Patron Miller, thankfully drawing the witch’s attention from me.

“So what is MY role, Patron Miller?”

“We have people on the inside of the Palace which will allow us to get our men and guns inside the walls without a fight. Once inside, you will challenge and defeat Opulessa. While that is happening, our men will capture First minister Dupree and his supporters. Ours will be a small group but large enough to overcome the Winthrop Group guards.”

“What about the Queen’s Guard? Aren’t there a lot of them?”

“Yes, but they are not in the Palace, they are outside.”

“What keeps them from coming inside?”

“We will strike quickly. By the time they know what is happening, we will be done.”

“And if I don’t win?”

“We all have confidence in your abilities. Pegues has given us glowing reports.”

She turns her attention to Pegues. “Glowing reports, eh. Who am I to argue with Miran Pegues? Assuming everything breaks our way and it all happens just the way you describe, what happens next?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Queen is dead. You’ve got the old government under lock and key. What keeps the Queen’s Guard and other people from the old government from storming in, releasing your prisoners and putting us all in a dungeon somewhere?”

“You will. You can protect us all.”

“For awhile but I’m not staying very long when this is over. What happens when I leave?”

“I am certain by then that the people will see the wisdom of supporting me as the new First Minister.”

She stares intently at Patron Miller for several seconds. I think I see sweat forming on his high forehead before a small smile creeps across her face.

“You’re probably right. What does it matter to me? I’ll be home by then, right?”

He nods his head. “Yes, you will have returned home.”

“If you’re wrong, it’ll be your problem, not mine.”

He keeps nodding. “Exactly! It is not your concern.” The relief is clear in his voice.

“Sounds like a plan, though raiding for guns is a serious mistake.”

“What do you mean?” I demand.

“It’s crazy. Draws way too much attention. The cops figure out someone’s collecting powerful guns and they’ll be on edge, prepared to move on the first sign of trouble. That and some of your guys get killed, or worse, captured. Someone might talk. All around too risky.”

She is endangering my role in the group. “What do you propose? Create them with magic?”

“Hadn’t thought of that. Let Pegues take care of it.”

“What can he do that I can’t?”

“I don’t know. How do your legs look in a pair of heels? Mirantha wasn’t bad looking for an old lady.”

“You aren’t suggesting that I … no man would ever consider … it is an abomination!”

“In my world, every weekend, there are at least sixty gun shows scattered across the country. Pegues takes his little magic wand, crosses over, buys whatever you need and brings it back. No one’s the wiser and everyone lives to fight another day. You can’t get military grade but it’ll be just about half a step down and easier for your guys to handle.”

Looking around the room, I can see that several of the men are considering her suggestion. I need to put an end to this right now.

“And where do we find the riches to purchase this trove of modern guns?”

“I thought you guys were big muckety mucks around here.”

“Muckety mucks?”

“Permit me to translate,” says Pegues. “Important rich people. Yes, Alexia, some of our members are both important and rich, for this world, but they are not riches that are accepted by your world.”

“That’s a bitch.” She reaches into the pocket of her cloak. “I wasn’t planning on bankrolling this operation but anything to get it over with.” She removes her hand from the pocket and tosses something small to Pegues, who catches it then holds it up for all to see. It appears to be a coin.

Pegues takes a closer look. “Wait … is this … by Zaphod’s beard! How many of these do you have?!”

“Forty. I keep them in my backpack. That worthless backpack you told me not to bring. Nothing makes life smoother when you go on the run than a bunch of Krugerands.”

“What is a Krugerand?” asks Patron Miller.

“A gold coin, highly valued in the other world,” answers Pegues.

“You walk into a gun show and offer to pay with gold; you can get a hell of a deal from some of your more paranoid, end of the civilized world types,” says the witch.

“Is that enough to get what we need, Pegues?”

“I believe it is, Patron Miller.”

“We’ve got two military grade rifles in the wagon with us. You can have them plus the extra clips and ammo. On the house.”

We all heard the story about her confrontation with the two men of the Queen’s Guard. The guns confirm it. I am being eased out and losing control of the situation.

“Is it wise to risk another trip to the other side, Patron?”

“What risk, Schicalli?”

“Pegues claimed that the last time he was in the other world, he was betrayed, that he was fortunate to return alive. Would he not be at risk should he return?”

Pegues smiles broadly. “Schicalli, I am touched that you have such concern for my safety. Perhaps you would care to go in my place?”

“NO! No one should go! We have been working on this plan for months and now this … woman arrives and it all changes. We should follow the original plan as created by Patron Miller. It is our best chance for success and …”

Miller raises his hand. “Thank you Schicalli, but with the new resources graciously provided by Alexia, new and better options are available to us. If Pegues is willing …”

“I am, Patron.”

“Very good, Pegues. Then we shall proceed. How long do you think it will take?”

“Two or three weeks, perhaps four if I have to attend several shows to obtain all that we need.”

“Is it true that any man can obtain such guns?”

“It is true, Patron,” answers Pegues.

“You come from a strange land, Alexia.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We left as soon as the meeting was finished. Pegues stopped Alexia before we left, asking to see the coins she had told them about. He seemed to doubt her word. I assured him that the coins did exist, that I had seen them myself. She had sown them into the straps of her pack. For some reason, he felt the need to see them with his own eyes. Alexia invited him to come to our room in the morning.

We had another stop to make before returning to the inn. Alexia sat next to me as we slowly drove the wagon back toward Dupreeville, the road lit by a half moon and our pair of hooded lanterns. We were returning for a meeting with the other witches. Alexia had been silent since her talk with Pegues. I try to get her talking.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think I’m wasting my ‘A’ material on you guys. No common cultural touch points.”

“Do not be so certain … Darth Vader.”

She laughsd. “Johnathyn! Wicked! You DID see the movie.”

“How could I not? You and Leeanna must have watched ‘Star Wars’ ten times since we started out. It was hard to avoid.”

“I know. Sorry. You know how she loves it.”

“You or her?”

“Well, maybe she just likes it. ‘Star Wars’ is just geek Nirvana. If a guy doesn’t know at least twenty ‘Star Wars’ references, he’s got no geek cred whatsoever.”

“Perhaps but I was referring to what was said at the meeting. What do you think?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet.”

I’m insulted! “You do not wish to know my opinion?”

“I do. More than anything. I’ve also got questions for you but I don’t want to influence what you think. I know what I believe but I could be wrong. When we get to the coven, I want to lay it all out, just as they told us. You listen and make sure I don’t miss anything or add anything we weren’t told. I want the other girls to hear exactly what we did. I’ll give them a few additional facts and then I want to know what everyone thinks. Most importantly, I want to know what you think but not yet. Give the whole thing some thought. Do you think it could work? How bloody would it be? Can they keep control assuming they get control? Think about that and anything else you believe to be important. When we get to the meeting, you tell me exactly what you believe. I may have missed something. I hope I have.”

She says nothing the rest of the time we are on the road except to point out hazards I missed seeing. The light is not very good but her vision is extraordinary. We finally reach the barn where the rest of the witches are waiting for us. They have prepared a hot meal of stew and fresh bread.

Say what you will about witches but almost all of them know how to cook well.

While we eat, Alexia relates the plan as told by Patron Miller, exactly as it was told to us, word for word. At the end, she turns to me.

“Did I leave anything out, Johnathyn?”

“No, it was all there.”

“Did I add anything?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Good. Now my question. When was the last time there was a government on this world not backed by a powerful witch?”

“That is hard to say. Opulessa has ruled for over Two Hundred years, longer than any of us has been alive.” I answer.

“Don’t you guys have history books or manuscripts or scrolls or something? You’ve got that damn story about Zaphod, Jillian and Alexia out there. Didn’t anybody write about history?”

Dierdra speaks up. “To be fair, Alexia, that story is of much greater interest to the people than some dry subject like history.”

“I know. Porn is almost always the first to take advantage of new technology.”

“What is ‘Porn’?” I ask.

“Never mind, Johnathyn. Maybe later. Don’t any one of you know the history of your world?”

Emlilly Sousa stands. “I know some things. My family has a long lineage, mostly men. My relatives have had seats at the tables of power. Before Opulessa, there was a different witch who was Queen. She ruled for almost a hundred years herself. Opulessa defeated her. Before that was another witch Queen, and another and another and another, going back at least a thousand years. There were many powerful witches in those days and they often ruled over smaller queendoms but Opulessa overcame them all, uniting the smaller queendoms. As for the last time there was an area ruled by a government not backed by a strong witch, I could not say.”

Sousa sat back down and Alexia stood. “Safe to say, it’s been awhile. Then there are a couple of things I’d like to add. Some of you already know this but I want everyone to be on the same page. Patron Miller’s original plan was to bring my brother Terry to your world. My mother was to come with him. Terry would have been a Seventy Eight but, more importantly, he would have been willing to stay and rule. He would have loved nothing more. He was desperate to become a woman and this place would have been a dream come true for him. My mother would have loved being the parent of a Queen so she would have also stayed willingly. All that changed when they were killed. I got recruited to replace my brother and only agreed to stay until the people who killed my family pay for their crimes. After that happens in this world, I’m going home and making sure the same thing happens in my world. The people who did this will pay. Now, given all of that, and the plans of Patron Miller as laid out for me, here are the questions. Will it work, both short term and long term? What are the consequences for the people? If Miller’s plan won’t work, what does it need to work? How many First Ministers have there been in the recent past? Why does one First Minister replace another? Think about this on your own for awhile and then we’ll talk again.”

Alexia turns and walks out of the barn, leaving the others to their thoughts. Despite what she asked, some of them began to talk among themselves. I wait awhile until their attention is elsewhere and slip out of the barn by a side door. Walking around the outside of the building, I soon find Alexia sitting on a bench by a stone well. I slowly stroll up to her.

“They’re talking together, aren’t they?” she asks, not looking at me but towards the woods.

“Yes. Did you expect otherwise?”

“Not really. I wanted everyone’s opinion, not just the loudest opinion.”

“You mean Beckwith’s.”

“Hers for one. Dierdra can be pretty loud when she wants to though. I know what I think but I was hoping to see if anyone else agreed with me.”

She reaches down, picks up a handful of loose stones and drops one into the well. There is silence then a quiet “Plonk” that slowly fades away.

“Patron Miller’s plan … why did they always say ‘Patron Miller’ and not just ‘Miller’?”

“It is a title of honor. He is the Patron of his district. The country is divided into districts, each run by one man appointed by the First Minister. That man is called ‘Patron.’”

“I get it. Well his plan was created by a man. Men don’t think like women.” She drops another stone into the well.

“I’m not sure I still think like a man.”

“Why does that matter?” I ask.

“It matters because I made a career out of solving puzzles, finding the weaknesses in systems. In order to do that, I had to get inside the heads of the people who built that system, figure out how they thought.”

“Only men made these systems?”

“Mostly.”

“I thought men and women were equal were you came from.”

“They are but some professions have more men than most. Programmers tend to be men and even if there are women on the team, the male perspective dominates. I’ve never run into a system created by a strictly female group of programmers. That might have been interesting to see.”

“Why do you say you no longer think like a man?”

She drops another stone in the well.

“I think about things differently than before.” She turns her head towards me. “About certain people too.”

“Could that simply be due to new experiences? Very few people have done what you have done.”

“Yeah, that’s part of it but it’s more than that … I’m scared, Johnathyn.”

“That is only normal, Alexia.”

“Not for me it’s not! I don’t get scared. Sure, it happens on the short term, like with those mutant wolves of yours but it doesn’t last. Now, I’m scared almost all the time. Am I doing the right thing? Should I do something else? Should I do it differently? Why do I feel the way I do? … Should I do something about it?”

“Everyone fears the unknown, Alexia.”

“I didn’t … at least not before coming here. I jumped into the unknown, attacked it. Now …”

“You hide your fear well.”

She smiles at me. “Thanks. I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

“May I sit?” She scoots closer to the well, making space for me to sit next to her. I join her on the bench. “When I was a young man, I was a bit of a rounder.”

“A rounder? What’s that?”

“A scoundrel, a rascal, a rake. I drank too much, brawled too often over inconsequential things, chased women.”

“Did you catch them?”

“Yes. Sometimes they caught me.”

“What did you do when you caught them?”

“What men and women have done since time began.”

“Sounds interesting, tell me more.”

“That is not my point, Alexia. My point is that in all that time, I too was not afraid.”

“Well look at you! A big, muscle-bound stud out chasing tail. Who’d you have to fear?”

“There were some who wished me harm.”

“Ha! I bet you were a dashing rogue!”

My face grows warm. “Perhaps, but I did not know fear until I met Leeantha.”

She is shocked. “Your wife?!”

“Yes.”

“Why did you marry her if you were afraid of her?”

“You misunderstand. I did not fear her; I loved her with all my heart. Until I met her, I was alone, responsible for only myself but when we became husband and wife, I now was responsible for the both of us. I had something I treasured that I could lose or could be taken away from me. I was afraid of either possibility.”

“I see.”

“When Leeanna was born, it became even worse. This tiny, fragile creature was totally dependant upon me to provide for her.”

“I think your wife might have disagreed with you on that point.”

“In this world, they were both my responsibility. When Leeantha died shortly after giving birth, all my fears were realized.”

“Must have been rough.”

“It was, but I would not trade a single moment of my life with her or Leeanna for all the riches of your world.”

“So, what are you telling me?”

“That it is easy to be fearless when you have nothing to lose. Have you discovered that you now have something to lose?”

“I had something to lose, Mom and Terry, but I never thought about it happening until it did. I went straight to anger, skipping fear. After that, there wasn’t anyone.”

“And now?”

She sighs. “How did I get into this mess, Johnathyn?”

“Willingly, I hope. You did not answer my question.”

“I know. Yes, I have something to lose, more than I‘ve ever had before.”

“As do I. Shall we go see what your friends have to say?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Patron Miller is a complete ninny.”

The others are in deep discussion when Johnathyn and I return to the barn. It really was too much to expect them to not talk to each other. My fears of Beckwith’s dominance were confirmed. I’ll deal with it.

“Why is that, Beckwith?”

“Ahh you’re back. He’s a ninny because there has never been a government without the backing of a strong witch.”

“We’re planning almost the same thing. Our plan uses a council of witches. They will all be equal and majority rules. Frankly, I’d shoot for a democracy but this world isn’t ready for that.”

“What is a democracy?” she asks.

“Where people select their leaders by voting for them, who ever gets the most votes wins and every adult, man or woman, gets one vote each. The chosen leader gets a fixed number of years, two to four, before he or she must run again. Sometimes there are a limited number of times a person can keep a job. For example, the First Minister of my world is limited to two four year terms. After four years, he must be chosen again to keep his office and after eight years, he has to leave, no matter what the people want.”

“That sounds foolish.”

“Oh it gets worse. In addition to the first minister, there’s two elected councils, one with one hundred people the other with over four hundred people. Any law has to get voted on by a majority of both councils and approved by the first minister before it goes into effect.”

“BOTH councils?”

“Yep. Then someone may challenge it in the Courts and then a Judge will have to review it to make sure it’s a legal law, then that Judge’s decision could go to another Judge in a higher Court and then possibly to the top Court and get reviewed by nine Judges before the law goes into effect.”

“That sounds impossibly complex.”

“It is, and don’t get me started talking about administrative agencies and bureaucracy. It’s amazing anything ever gets done. We have a saying on my world about democracies.”

“What is that?”

“That it’s a terrible system of government except when compared to all other forms of government. What you have is a dictatorship and even if we win, it’ll still be a dictatorship, just dictator by committee. It’s a first step to a better world. I hope.”

“I do not understand,” says Dierdra. “I thought you believed in something called Anarchy.”

“I still do, sort of, but your world isn’t ready for that either. Don’t worry, we’ll get the bugs worked out as we go along. The question right now is about Patron Miller’s plan. Beckwith says it won’t work without a strong witch backing it. Who agrees with her? A show of hands.”

They all look back and forth among themselves until I raise my hand. They got the message and most of them raise their hands after Beckwith does. Dierdra was one of the few who didn’t.

“Why not, Dierdra?” I ask.

“I would like to think that my people are smart enough to care for themselves without the watchful eye of some witch forcing them to do things against their will.”

“I’d like that too, Dierdra, but is that going to happen in the next few weeks? Months? Years? Be honest.”

She looks back and forth between me and the few others who had not raised their hands.

“No” she said, reluctantly. “Not now. Too many would seek power by the use of force. It would be a disaster.”

“That is what we will do. Keep the peace,” says Beckwith, a certain amount of smugness obvious in her voice.

“You’ll need to do better than that,” I say. “Peace they can get from any well armed dictator. You’ll have to give them a reason to support you, to believe in you, trust you. Without that, it‘s only a matter of time until someone comes along and kicks you all out.”

“They would not DARE!” Beckwith cries out.

“They would and they will.”

Sarah Finniss stands up. “You are both right! Our people only know the power of a witch. Some chafe under the weight of that yoke, others do not.” She glances at Beckwith. “It could be war.”

Great. These witches can’t get along and they don’t even have the taste of political power yet.

“Which do you think Patron Miller is, a fool … or a liar?” I ask.

“Why do you ask that?” says Emlilly Sousa.

“Apparently, he’s a fool if he thinks his plan will work, the same for those who support him or he’s a liar and he has another plan which involves a strong witch.”

“Where would he find such a witch?” asks Bengsston.

“That’s the $64,000 question, Steinvild,” I reply. “I’m not staying here if I win and they all know that. Maybe they think they can bribe or blackmail me but I don’t see how. If they’ve got another powerful witch hidden somewhere, why go through the hassle of getting me here? That only leaves one option.”

“By Zaphod’s beard!” Johnathyn gasps. “They expect you to lose!”

“Give that man a cookie. Yeah, they plan on me getting killed. In fact, if I win, it screws them up completely. Opulessa must survive. I’m just a diversion to keep her occupied for awhile.”

Sousa is surprised. “But surely Opulessa would take vengeance on anyone who attacked the First Minister.”

“Do not be certain of that,” Beckwith growls. “I have a cousin who works in the Palace. A cook. She tells some amazing stories. Opulessa is loyal as long as it benefits her. The moment it doesn’t, she does what is best for her. If Patron Miller can make a good argument and show her how she is better off with him than the First Minister, he’s in and Dupree is out.”

“It may not be as simple as that,” says Dierdra “but I have heard similar stories, enough to make me think that Alexia could be correct.”

“I’m right. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. They need a strong witch to rule and Opulessa is the devil they know. She’s been around long enough that she’s more predictable than I am. They know her strengths and weaknesses. I keep her busy while they do what they need to do then they make the pitch after I go down. Miller and his people may be the only viable option available to her. Who knows for sure.”

“If you are right, what do we do?” asks Bengsston.

“Exactly what we were going to do,” replies Beckwith.

“She’s right about that,” I add. “We stick with our plan and stay close to theirs. We don’t let on that we’ve tumbled onto the truth. We act normally and keep our eyes peeled, learn everything we can. Beckwith, this cousin of yours, you guys all buddy buddy?”

“We are close, if that is what you are asking.”

“Would she be willing to help us?”

“Maybe. It depends on what you are asking her to do. She has children so I will not let you put her life at risk.”

“It’s not that risky. Just a little recon work, that’s all. When can I talk with her?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I had started on my second bowl of disappointing soup when Schicalli walked through the door of the dingy inn.

Late.

As usual.

He looks around the small room without recognizing me. A credit to my disguise as a common peasant. I’m certain he would have left had I not raised my hand and signaled for him to approach with a crook of my finger, which he did with an admirable sense of caution.

“Excuse me,” he began. “Do you want something … is that you, Rachet?”

“Yes. Sit down and order something before we draw someone’s attention. I suggest the soup of the day.”

He quickly drops down into the seat across the table from me and waves the serving wench his way. After several minutes, there was a tepid bowl in front of him. He brought a spoonful to his lips and grimaces.

“This is terrible!” he hisses.

“I know.”

“Then why did you recommend it?”

“You were late. I wasn’t gong to be the only one suffering through a poor meal tonight. What do you have for the First Minister?”

He pushes the bowl away from him but I push it back with a smile. “Keep eating. You want to blend in.”

Schicalli stares at me for a moment, picks up the spoon and slowly dips it below the grease floating on the surface.

“What do you have for the First Minister?” I repeat.

“Their witch has arrived.”

“Took her long enough. Is she powerful?”

“She nearly crushed my throat without any effort.”

I think that I would have enjoyed seeing that. “Fool. You were supposed to stay in the background. What did you do to deserve such treatment?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! She was trying to change our plans and I simply objected.”

I shake my head. “You are a fool, Schicalli. What does it matter? We strike when we are ready.”

“It matters because I have been able to delay the attack until you are ready by not providing guns but that job has passed to another, thanks to their witch. The attack could come in the next few weeks.”

“First Minister Dupree will not be pleased. It was your job to keep these traitors under control.”

“My apologies to the almighty First Minister, Rachet. I have been risking my life these past few months to save his life. And yours.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Schicalli. The traitors had no chance of success from the very beginning. You risked your life because the First Minister promised to generously reward you with a position in the government. It is the witch that is the threat. We need to control her.”

“Control?! Are you mad?! She has already killed two men with the merest flick of her hand. She must die before she kills countless others.”

“Schicalli, First Minister Dupree has not remained First Minister this long by wasting opportunities.”

“Nor have you remained as his secretary all these past years by accident, Rachet.”

“I serve my Master well.”

“And the Queen.”

“Yes, yes, the Queen. That goes without saying.”

“So what possible reason would Dupree have for not wanting this upstart witch dead?”

“That is not your concern, Schicalli. Your job is to do as you are told and report to me so that I may report to the First Minister.”

“Of course. I understand. But one can’t help but think about all the possibilities.”

“Thinking is a dangerous thing to do, Barton.”

“Dangerous for us all, Dilgar. It never took much for the Queen to replace a First Minister because the First Minister could never replace the Queen. Until now.”

I don’t like the sly smile on Schicalli’s face. He is a smart man. If he wasn’t, he’d be dead by now. We can’t afford to have him meddling in our plans at this late date. “Keep your speculations to yourself, Barton.”

“Of course, Dilgar. Who could I possibly tell about First Minister Dupree’s reluctance to destroy the challenger to the Queen?”

This conversation is not going as well as I would like. “First Minister Dupree rewards loyalty, Schicalli. And severely punishes traitors.”

“As he should, Dilgar, as he should. I understand the Queen does the same. Very wise of her.”

“The First Minister speaks for the Queen.”

“I have no reason to doubt that, Rachet.”

Devious bastard. We both know what he is saying. Take care of him or the Queen shall know everything. Despite that, he might still tell the Queen if he can benefit from doing so. Schicalli may very well have to go at the first available moment.

But not yet. Not until we have the new witch in our hands and in our control. I take hold of my cloak from the chair next to me and stand.

“Contact me in the usual manner when you have new information. This affair is reaching a critical point. We will take the next opportunity when we can capture as many of the conspirators as possible, including the witch.”

“I thought the First Minister wanted them all at one time.”

“He did, but in light of you losing your leverage, we must make the best of a bad situation.”

“Shouldn’t that be Dupree’s decision?”

“It should be and is. Did you think he and I had not discussed this possibility? We have plans for every contingency.”

“Every contingency? How about the one where the witch crushes your skull like a grape by merely pinching her thumb and forefinger together?”

“As I will not be leading the raiding party, she can crush as many skulls as she wishes, as long as we ultimately succeed. Just inform us of the next major meeting of the traitors where the witch will be present and we will take care of the rest.”

“Then it should be soon. She let it be known that she would be part of the planning council from now on. Whether Patron Miller liked it or not.”

“Knowing Patron Miller, I would say he did not.”

“Very perceptive of you, Rachet.”

“Good evening to you, Sir. And Schicalli?”

“Yes?”

“Be prompt next time.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I’m soaking in a tub of hot water after our last practice. I hurt all over. Nothing fatal, just a general acheyness all around. The girls have been giving me trouble lately. We keep practicing and they’re getting better faster than I am. I’m worried about it. Dierdra keeps pointing out that they’ve all lived with magic for years and learned to work at lower power levels. Now that they’re all together and I’m here, they’ve all got power to burn while I’m still learning the ropes. I can throw the big shots and overwhelm them but I’ve got trouble with touch, the delicate control of the magic. Dierdra says I’ll get the hang of it but we’re running out of time. Add the fact that Opulessa has been doing this at my power level for more than two hundred years and my chances of coming out alive aren’t getting any better.

My hands are getting pruney so it’s time to get out and dry off. The long soak did some good. I don’t feel so bad physically but I’m still worried about my capabilities.

Johnathyn’s off helping with Pegues last shipment of guns. It took him less time than I thought it would and he spent my money wisely. He got some good deals. Say what you will about Pegues, the man can deal. With Johnathyn gone, it’s my job to get Leeanna to bed.

After drying off, I drop a long nightgown over my head and tie a sash tightly around my waist. When I get to Leeanna’s bed, she’s watching old Rocky and Bullwinkle videos on the laptop. She says she likes them but I can’t think she understands more than a third of the jokes.

“Lee, Honey, time to go to bed.”

“Yes, Mother,” she answers. I’m still not used to that. Both the “Mother” thing and that she actually does what I tell her without a fight.

Usually.

I grunt lightly as I tuck the blanket around her.

“Are you hurt, Mother?”

“No, not really. I’m just sore from practice, that’s all.”

“Why do you practice so much?”

“I need to learn how to use magic. All the other witches have a head start on me.”

“Aren’t you stronger than the rest of them?”

“Yes, but the strongest person doesn’t always win.”

“Why not?”

“It’s good to be strong but a smart person can beat a stronger person.”

“But you’re smart too.” She points to the laptop I sat on the nightstand next to her bed. “You can use all knowledge in the computer.”

“There’s not a lot about magic in there,” I tell her. “And most of what’s in there on magic is wrong. I am smart but I need to learn lots more about magic.”

“But the Queen is very old and you’re really young and strong. Is she practicing all the time too?”

“We don’t know for sure but it looks like she isn’t.”

“If you’re practicing and she isn’t and you’re young and she’s old, why won’t you win?”

“It’s not as simple as that, Lee. She’s been at this a long time; she knows everything there is to know about magic.”

“Who taught her?”

“What?”

“If she knows everything there is to know about magic, who taught her? Who was her teacher?”

I sit down on the edge of the bed. Who did teach her? Or did she just pick it up as she went along? Does she have a good grasp of the basics or is she just coasting along on her superior power? Has she ever been really challenged? She is old, she just doesn’t look it. Plus, she’s got a lot of balls in the air all the time, tapping her reserves every second of every minute of every hour of every day. How much extra does she have for a throw down?

“Mother!”

Leeanna interrupts my train of thought. “Uhh … what?”

“Who was the Queen’s teacher?”

“I don’t know. There may not be anyone alive who knows. She may not have had a teacher.”

“What were you just thinking of? You were all quiet and staring out into the room.”

“I was just thinking about an old fighter from my world. He fought a younger man, a very strong man, a man who was knocking out his opponents very quickly. The old fighter decided to take the punches of the younger fighter. Protect his head and take the body shots. Let the young guy punch himself out. He wasn’t used to fighting long fights even though he was in good shape. The young fighter didn’t know what to do so he just punched away, winning the rounds on points. Eventually, the young fighter got tired and the old fighter knocked him out. The old fighter called it ‘The Rope-a-Dope’. He took quite a beating but he won.”

“What happened to the old fighter?”

“That was his last big fight. He fought some others after that but he didn’t have it in him anymore. It was his last hurrah. The beatings took their toll and he eventually got real sick. That fight with Foreman may have ultimately cost him quite a bit. No one can say for sure.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Mother.”

“I don’t want to get hurt, Leeanna, but I’ll do what it takes to win.”

“Like the ‘Rope-a-Dope’?”

“Yeah … maybe I will.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“What is ‘Rope-a-Dope’?”

“The name isn’t important, Dierdra. It’s the strategy. What if I play defense? Just hit her hard enough and often enough to get her pissed and keep her that way. Talk a little smack to keep her from figuring out the plan. I block her shots until she gets tired and then I take her out.”

“What if she takes you out while you’re playing this defense?”

“I know. That’s the question. How much does a two hundred year old witch have in the tank and can I hold out long enough to force her to tap all her resources?”

“There is no way to know for certain.”

“Not now there isn’t. Another question is how much does she really know about magic? You yourself told me about all the hard work you did to learn to use what skills you have and it was all done to maximize the limited power that you had. The rest of the girls did the same. Opulessa never had to do that, she had power to spare from day one. How many tricks does she actually know? How many pitches does she have in her game? Maybe she’s just a fastball pitcher with really great stuff, used to blowing it by every batter. If I keep fouling her off, upping the pitch count, sooner or later, that fastball loses some of its heat. If that’s the only pitch she’s got, I can start taking her yard, knock her out of the box.”

Dierdra gives me an exasperated look. “You know that I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Sorry, guys always condense ideas down to sports metaphors. It’s a kind of universal short hand for us but I think you get my drift. If she’s gotten soft and lazy, not fully developed her skills, relied on being the biggest and baddest witch in the room, what happens if she’s facing someone as big and bad as she is?”

“We do not know if you are as skilled as she.”

“I know, I get it but if I put as much into blocking her as she does attacking me then that’s a stalemate. The longer the stalemate, the better my chances. Has she ever actually fought another witch equal to her? A Seventy Seven?”

“There have been no fights with other witches in my lifetime.”

“So she could be coasting on her rep. Interesting.”

“And if she is not?”

“I can always run away.”

“You would not do that. I know you too well to believe it.”

“You might be surprised. Either way, I like this plan. It’s something unexpected. Always screw with your opponent’s head whenever you can.”

“Does that lead to victory?”

“Sometimes. But it’s always fun.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I return to our room at the inn after an evening of shooting practice. One of the leaders of the conspiracy has a large farm nearby. Twenty five of the men brought their rifles and we rode to a remote section of the farm for a ‘shooting contest’. In fact, we were practicing with the other world guns Pegues had purchased.

They are fearsome weapons, firing as quickly as you can pull the trigger until they are spent but are rapidly reloaded. With all twenty five of us lined up, shooting at the same target, it was almost instantly destroyed. The other men were extremely enthusiastic, almost drunk with the power of these modern guns. They weren’t thinking about the possibility that while pulling the trigger, they might also be the target. Looking at the shredded dummies we had been shooting at not long ago, I knew at which end of the muzzle I wished to be.

While the others cleaned the new guns, I took a few shots with my personal rifle, the one my father, Dylan Tyber, helped me make so many years ago. It is a fine weapon, fitting me like an old friend. We have killed many a deer, elk and moose together. The only shots in anger we have fired have been at wolves. I have never pointed it at another man, not even in jest. I am almost thankful that it will not accompany me into battle for I do not wish to stain it with the memories of killing men.

When I enter the room, I see Alexia posed in front of a mirror, turning first this way and then that, tossing her hair, cocking her head to the side with a winsome smile. Then she gently lifts and handles her breasts in a way that made the breath freeze in my throat. She turns to look at me over her shoulder, her eyes bright and her lips crimson.

“Hello Johnathyn,” she purrs. “Does this dress make me look fat?”

By Zaphod’s beard! Not that question!

“Uhhh … well … uhh, no, of course not! You could never look fat! Someone as thin and beautiful as yourself could never …”

Alexia begins to laugh. “Dude! You should see your face! Guess that question puts the fear in the guys over here as much as it does the guys back home. Why do chicks care that much?” She returns to looking at herself in the mirror. “Still, no use in letting the standards drop. You know what I mean? Nothing wrong with looking good and using what you’ve got. Right?”

“Oh yes, I agree completely,” I say, relieved to be free of that question.

“I need to ask you a serious question, Johnathyn. I need your honest answer. I’m not kidding. Your honest answer. I’m not fishing for compliments or anything like that. I’ve already asked Leeanna basically the same thing so now I need your opinion. It’s important. Okay?”

“Certainly, Alexia. Ask me what you wish.”

“Alright, think before you answer, it’s important. Has my appearance changed since we first met?”

“You were wet, chilled to the bone, dressed in too large clothes and coated in mud. Yes, I would say your appearance has changed since then.”

“I’m not talking about that, Johnathyn! You saw me after I got cleaned up that night. Think back. Do I appear differently now than I did then? Think hard.”

I close my eyes and attempt to conjure an image from that first night and compare it to what I see before me. It is difficult to separate the images; we have spent so much time together after that first night.

“I believe that you were … thinner. Not that you are fat now!”

“Johnathyn. Chill. Keep going. Give it to me straight.”

“I just mean that your body is more … curved. More womanly. Your hips are … rounder but your waist might be thinner. Your breasts … are … ahh, they are …”

“Larger.”

“Yes! Exactly! Larger!”

“Don’t be so happy about it. What else?”

“Well, your hair might be darker, hard to say for certain.”

“What about my eyes?”

“Your eyes? What about them?”

“Have they changed?

“How could your eyes change?”

“I’m not dealing with ‘how’ right now, just ‘if’. Any changes in the eyes?”

I close my eyes again and concentrate on the freshly bathed and dressed woman who sat at my table that rainy night. I then open my eyes and look at Alexia, staring at me with her large, bright …’

“They are bigger! Your eyes are bigger today than they were that night! And your nose is smaller! By Zaphods’s beard, your neck is longer too! Why did I not notice this before?”

“Same reason I didn’t notice it. Mentally, were both guys … well you’re a guy and I’m still mostly a guy. At least for now. Leeanna rattled off the changes, bang, bang, bang. Dierdra did the same, though she didn’t know me from the start.”

It is true. Alexia has changed. And every single change has made her more beautiful. She was an attractive girl at the start but now … how could I have missed it?

“How has this happened? Is it dangerous?”

Alexia looks uncomfortable. “Dierdra has a theory. I’m not saying I buy it, not yet at least, but it’s not dangerous … assuming she’s right or close to it.”

“What is her explanation?”

“I don’t want to get into it right now, Johnathyn. The big thing is that I have changed my appearance, maybe subconsciously. If that’s true, why can’t I consciously do it?”

“What does ‘subconscious’ mean?”

“You may know it as the dark mind and the light mind.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“Okay. I did it without knowing I was doing it.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Apparently, the Queen does it all the time, to stay looking young, but what if you could look like someone else entirely? You’d be one hell of a spy.”

“Agreed but how does that help us?”

“Getting into the castle would be a piece of cake.”

“What kind of cake?”

“Never mind. My mistake. It would be very easy to get into the castle if you looked like someone who works there.”

“Obviously but doesn’t Patron Miller have someone inside the castle already?”

“That’s his plan. We haven’t figured out how we get inside yet for our plan.”

“Sometimes, this is all very confusing.”

“I know. The thing right now is, can I change my appearance so that I look like someone else? If I can, it gives us a whole bunch of new options.”

“When do you plan to attempt this?”

“Right now.”

“Alexia! Is that wise? If something goes wrong, I will be of no help.”

“I want to try this where I am most comfortable and that’s when I’m with you. Dierdra’s just down the hall if it all goes south, but it shouldn’t.”

“But you do not know that for certain.”

“Let’s not amp up the nerves here.”

“What if you can’t change back?”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“I heard but these are legitimate concerns.”

“Afraid of losing your hot, young wife?”

“No. I am afraid of losing you, Alexia.”

She looks away, blushing, but quickly recovers her composure. “It’ll be just a quick change. I won’t even try to going back to a guy.”

“I should hope not! You would be powerless!”

“I don’t think so. I’m still me, just in a different package.”

Alexia can be so exasperating sometimes. “It is clear that you are going to do this despite my misgivings. Why you bother to ask my opinions I have no idea. What do you want me to do?”

“Just be cool and don’t freak out.” She takes a deep breath and rubs her hands together. “Here we go.”

She closes her eyes and gives her body a quick shake. Concentrating, she slowly inhales and exhales several times before her body starts to soften and her features begin to become indefinite. It is hard not to panic as the woman I know disappears and is replaced by someone or something I do not yet recognize. It takes a few milicycles before her image becomes distinct again but those few milicycles felt endless.

Alexia now bears a strong similarity to Dierdra, though a younger version. She opens her eyes and turns towards the mirror. I step up behind her, looking over her shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she answers, twisting her head around in front of the mirror. “I didn’t get it right, did I?”

“No, but it was a good attempt. Now please, for my sake, return to your original form.”

She smiles. “The original me or the new and improved model?”

“I do not care, just be Alexia.”

She closes her eyes again and Alexia reappears in the mirror, more quickly than she changed the first time.

“Thank Zaphod,” I whisper.

“All I did was stop concentrating on the new shape and I bounced right back to what I was. Looks like those improvements are here to stay.”

“I’m just content that you returned.”

“I need to work on this before I show it to the girls.”

She should not attempt such dangerous things by herself. “I will stay with you whenever you practice this new power.”

“You sure about that? The whole thing seems to upset you.”

“It does but I would be more concerned if you were doing it alone. Please follow my wishes this time, Alexia.”

She chortles lightly and smiles. “Who could say no to those big puppy dog eyes?”

“You do so. Frequently.”

“Don’t push your luck; I’m giving you this one. I want to try a few more times before we go to bed.”

“You’ll also need to change your clothes when you change images.”

“All of a sudden you’re a critic? One step at a time, Johnathyn.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * * ***

You can feel the excitement in the room. Patron Miller has called us all together for this final meeting before the attack. He had pulled me aside before the meeting, congratulating me on how quickly I had obtained the guns and on the training the men.

“Well done, Pegues!” he says. “My confidence in you was rewarded.”

“Your confidence was my inspiration, Patron.” That and my ten percent handling fee.

Miller nods sagely. “A talent of all good leaders, Miran.”

“I do have one concern, Patron”

“What is that?”

“That you have called so many of us to one place so close to the date of the attack. Is this meeting not a security risk?”

“You are correct, Miran, but it was suggested that everyone could benefit from a dose of my confidence and inspiration. That the benefit outweighed the risk.”

“I see. May I ask who made that suggestion?”

“I believe that it was originally made by Barton Schicalli, but several others agreed.”

Wonderful. A chorus of sycophants led by the chief sycophant leaves all our necks exposed.

“I am certain that you have made the right choice, Patron, but the shorter this meeting, the better. We do not wish to draw attention to ourselves at this late date.”

“Do not concern yourself, Miran. My speech will be succinct and powerful.”

His past speeches have been bombastic, which has actually stoked the enthusiasm of the younger, more idealistic men. The older men have seen too much during their lives to be carried away by mere words. Succinct they were not.

The last to arrive at the meeting is Alexia. I did not see her walk in. It was as if she simply appeared in the back of the room. I’m certain my attention was elsewhere when she entered, though others seem surprised when she speaks out.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says. “Let’s get this party started.”

Her bodyguard isn’t with her but after the performance at the last meeting I don’t think she’s at much risk. Most of the men here don’t have a death wish.

There are too many present to fit in the Patron’s secret room in the barn so this meeting is being held on the first floor of the main house. Too many windows and doors for my taste, though the curtains are all drawn. The longer Miller drones on the more nervous I become. This entire speech is an exercise in ego massage. If I could sneak out of here, I would.

Suddenly, there are several loud crashes and the curtains covering the windows fly inwards. Almost instantly, there is a blinding flash of light immediately followed by a tremendous loud explosion. The room is full of smoke and stumbling, dazed men.

“DOWN! DOWN! EVERYONE DOWN ON THE GROUND! DOWN ON THE GROUND AND HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!”

More men storm into the room, all dressed in black helmets and uniforms, armed with military weapons from the other world. They start knocking our people to the floor, some of them using the butts of their weapons to strike them in the head or back. The demand to drop to the floor keeps being loudly shouted over the pandemonium. A few of the younger men try to put up a fight but they are quickly swarmed and subdued.

I manage to roll across the floor, squatting low behind a short table. The curtain of the window near me is flapping in the wind. If I’m lucky, I can jump through the window and scramble to the woods. I take two steps towards the window before something strikes me between my shoulders, knocking me to the floor and the air from my lungs.

“Where the fuck you think you’re going, mother fucker?”

I try to roll to my left but can’t catch my breath. I feel a heavy boot in the middle of my back, forcing me down, face first on the floor, as first my left then my right hands are roughly and painfully pulled up and lashed at the wrist behind my back. Someone grabs me under the arms, pulling me to my knees and then to my feet, turning me to face him as I gasp for air.

He’s almost a foot taller than me, a black helmet low over his eyes and a black cloth covering his face below his nose.

“You’re not going to give trouble, are you, boy? Cause iffen you do …”

He punches me sharply in the stomach, doubling me over and driving out what little air I managed to regain. He pulls me upright and pushes me ahead of him towards the double doors leading to the outside, keeping a firm grip on my bound wrists. As I stumble forward, bumping into other men similarly bound, my captor pushes and jerks me this way and that, down the stairs and across the yard full of black clad troops and Patron Miller’s men, some crying and begging but most stoically facing their fates. There are several heavy prison wagons, barred windows and doors. Another trooper grabs me and tries to pull me into a wagon but my captor yanks me back.

“He’s a special. The Queen wants to personally question him.”

ME?! WHY ME?! Why not Miller? Why not that BASTARD SCHICALLI??!!

“Poor fucker,” says the trooper.

“Better him than me,” my captor responds.

“Amen, Brother.” He jerks his thumb towards another wagon. My captor drags me in that direction through a swarm of men and horses.

The troopers are trying to corral the horses belonging to our people. There are two of them in front of me, each holding the reins of two struggling horses. As we draw nearer, the four horses spin rapidly to the right, throwing the men to the ground and breaking free. The wild eyed mounts are panicking, overwhelmed by the noise, smoke and confusion. Each one bolts in a different direction, scattering scrambling, cursing men left in their wake, increasing the uproar around us. Unable to keep my balance among the maelstrom of bodies, I stumble, falling face first to the ground, barely turning my head in time to avoid a mouthful of dirt and horse shit. Before I can stand up, I am picked up and thrown several feet into a group of short shrubs at the edge of the woods, my captor jumping onto my back, covering me with his body.

“If you want a chance to live through the night you’ll do exactly what I say,” he whispers into my ear. “If you understand, nod once.”

If my choices are to do what he says or face the Queen, that is not a choice. I slowly dip my head down and back up one time.

“Good man, Pegues. We’re going to get to our feet but stay low, keep your head below the level of the bushes. You follow me like stink on a skunk.”

“Free my hands,” I murmur.

“Not now, maybe later, if we live that long. Get ready to move quickly.”

He rolls off me into a squatting position. I struggle up onto my knees then to my feet, squatting as he does.

“See, that ain’t so hard, now is it?” He raises his head slightly, checking out the chaos I hope we soon leave behind. “Let’s go!” he hisses, taking off in a squat walk, heading towards a group of taller trees deeper in the woods. I try to follow him but my legs are not as young and flexible as his. Dead brush full of stickers tear at my clothes as I struggle. He is soon well ahead of me. He pauses to allow me to catch up and to survey the scene to make certain we are not being followed. Every time I nearly reach him, he tells me to hurry but be careful and takes off again, leaving me to fight on, my legs and lungs burning from the pain.

Eventually, we reach that tall grove of trees and both of us can stand behind their cover, allowing the blood to flow back into my cramping muscles.

“Surely, you can release me now,” I gasp.

“Not yet. We’re far from safe,” he whispers.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Move now, talk later. Follow me, keep low but we don’t have to duck walk. If I hit the ground, you do the same. Fast. Get moving.”

He takes off at a fast pace, not running but faster than walking, keeping alert. Several times he stops and drops to one knee behind a tree or large bush, pausing to make sure we are still not being pursued, then he is off again. In time, we reach a small clearing that must be at least a league away from where we started. Assuming we haven’t been going in circles. My shoulders and arms are aching from being tied in such an unnatural position and then running on top of that.

“I’m sure it is safe to untie me now.”

“For you maybe, not for me. Those woods were real clean, not many sticks on the ground.”

“The people around here heat and cook with wood but they are forbidden to cut down trees. They belong to the Queen. Fallen timber doesn’t last long before being gathered by the women and children.”

“Interesting. That makes sense. Makes escaping a hell of a lot easier.”

“What do you want of me?” I demand.

My captor removes his helmet and uncovers his face, revealing an older man. Clearly a veteran of numerous fights wherever he came from. He’s not carrying a weapon of any kind. He gives me a sinister smile.

“What do I want of you? Good question. Maybe I helped you escape so that they’ll put a big fat bounty on your head and I can turn you in later for the money. Maybe someone wants you bad enough to pay me to risk my life to save you so they can do what they want with you and blame the Queen for it. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now, Pegues.”

It would appear that my captor remains my captor and not my rescuer. I need to escape as quickly as possible, before his employer shows up to claim me. He has no gun but I don’t think I could outrun him, not with my arms trussed behind me. I clearly can’t attack him for the same reason. That leaves one option.

“I have money. You release me and you can have it all.”

That attracts his interest. “Real money or that crap you guys throw around locally?”

“Money from your world. ‘Real’ money. Gold.”

His eyes light up. “Where did you get gold?”

”I was doing a job for someone. She gave me gold to pay for some … items. I was able to get the items for less and pocketed the difference. It was a fair deal for all.”

He laughs quietly, almost angrily. “Did you tell your employer about this?”

“She had a great deal on her mind. No need to complicate her life.” Which has probably ended by now if the Queen has an ounce of intelligence. I’d feel bad about that if I wasn’t fighting for my own life.

“You’re a real prick, Miran. You know that, right? I should have just left your ass back there for the Queen to deal with you along with the rest of the idiots. Didn’t think I’d figure out the true plan, did you?”

My captor is getting shorter, shrinking before my eyes. We are now almost the same height.

“Who … what are you?”

His entire body glows dully for a moment and then returns to normal but he has changed. What was a man is now a dark haired woman … a beautiful woman wearing traveling clothes … it is …

“ALEXIA! How is this possible?! Untie me this instant!”

“Or what?”

“Uhhhh ….” I see her point. I’m not in a good bargaining position. “Please?”

“Where’s my money?”

“Safe. Very safe I assure you.”

“Right. How much was left?”

“About three thousand dollars. You can have it all back. I was planning on returning it to you once all this was over. Once we were in power and the Queen was …”

“Save it. I know you all were tossing me to the wolves to buy time. I appreciate a good ruthless plan unless I’m the one who takes it in the butt.” She snapped her fingers and my bindings were released. I bend and flex my shoulders, arms and fingers, thinking about what my next words should be. Can’t go wrong with a classic.

“Thank you for saving my life, Alexia.”

She stares at me for a moment. “First bright thing you’ve said today, Pegues. Let’s get out of here. We’re not safe yet.”

“No place is safe for us. There was a spy among the group. We must assume all our plans and secrets have been exposed.”

“Good thing I’ve got a completely different set of plans and secrets to fall back on.”

“What are you talking about?”

She grabs my right arm. “Time for you to meet my friends. Don’t scream.”

“Why would I … AAAHHHHHH!” We rapidly fly into the air, barely skimming the tree tops.

“I said don’t scream.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Rachet was leading me through the halls of the Palace in the West wing, the portion occupied by the government. The Healers of the Winthrop Group had mended my cuts and bandaged my wounds. I knew something was going to happen last night but they refused to tell me their plans, assuming that I would not be able to hide my reactions when the attack came. I surrendered right away but was still injured by their explosions.

A small price to pay.

I am supposed to meet the First Minister today but Rachet is being tight lipped, perhaps jealous of my success. We quickly pass through all of the security check points and Rachet opens the door for me of what I assume is First Minister Dupree’s office. He steps aside so that I might enter then immediately closes it behind me, leaving me standing in a room with the First Minister and two other people, one who I recognize. The First Minister stands up and reaches out towards me with his right hand, the custom of the other worlders.

“Mr. Schicalli , we finally meet.”

First impressions are important. I grasp his offered hand firmly. “I am pleased to finally meet you, First Minister Dupree.”

“Allow me to introduce …”

I interrupt him. “Mr. Don White, representative of the Consortium. We have met before but I doubt that you would remember. It was a large event and I was one of many.”

White stands and we shake hands, as is their custom. “Pleased to meet you again, Mr. Schicalli.”

The First Minister continues. “This is Colonel Thomas Willis, commander of the Winthrop Group personnel on our world.”

I step towards Colonel Willis but he remains seated, not offering me his hand, just nodding his head towards me, an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth, a very unfriendly look upon his face. The First Minister indicates a chair with his outstretched hand.

“Have a seat, Barton.”

He called me by my first name! Surely, I am a part of the inner circle now! “Thank you, First Minister.” I sit in a surprisingly uncomfortable plain wooden chair.

The First Minister returns to his seat. “Barton, we have a bit of a situation here and we are hoping you could shed some light, perhaps explain something.”

“I will do whatever you ask of me, First Minister.”

“Excellent, Barton. As you well know, Colonel Willis’s men raided Patron Miller’s home yesterday in an attempt to put an end to this plot to take over the government.”

I make a show of rubbing the bandages over my wounds and smiling ever so slightly.

“I certainly remember, I was there, after all.”

“Yes, you certainly were. Among our objectives was to capture as many of the conspirators as possible, with the primary focus being on capturing the rogue witch. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes. She was in the back of the room when the explosions occurred.”

“Then perhaps you can explain why she wasn’t there when the men stormed the house.”

“I don’t understand, First Minister.”

“The witch, the one named Alexia, she was not in the room when Colonel Willis’s men came through every door and window. There was no place for her to go, nowhere to run, escape impossible, and yet she was not there. Can you explain that, Barton?”

I look from face to face and find no sympathy. Something must have gone wrong, someone, not me, had failed. My job was to get as many of the conspirators in one place at one time and I had succeeded. The accursed witch was there. I saw her, I heard her speak.

“I do not understand, First Minister. She was in the room when the bombs exploded! I swear upon Zaphod’s great staff that she was there!”

“Then what happened to her, Schicalli? Surely you aren’t blaming Colonel Willis or his men, are you?”

Of course that is what happened but I can not say it. “I am certain they did their jobs, just as I did mine. Everything happened so quickly after the bright flashes of light. I was blinded at first, then deafened by the blasts. I had barely started recovering my wits when someone struck me across the face and I fell to the ground. What happened after that is unclear until later that night but I can say with absolute certainty that she was there both before and during the raid.”

“I see. Another person was unaccounted for, a Miran Pegues.”

“That’s it!” I shout. “It was Pegues who found and delivered the witch in the first place! They must be together.”

“But how did they escape Colonel Willis’s trap?” asks White, politely but insistently. I had the feeling that the next time he asks, it would not be so polite.

“I do not know, Sir. I only know that if that witch was close to anyone, it would be Pegues. It cannot be a coincidence that they both escaped.”

“They could not have escaped my men,” Willis states as if it was fact. “We had all bases covered and each man was part of a well trained team. There were several redundancies.”

“Well, I never saw these ‘redundancies’, whatever they are. I just know that if you find Pegues, you’ll find the witch.”

The First Minister pauses, rubbing his hands lightly together. “You don’t suppose that they have some kind of alternative plan, do you Schicalli?”

“Of course not! If there was such a plan, I would know it. Pegues is a devious fellow but he could not hide such a thing from me. I assure you, First Minister, there is no other plan to topple your - our government. At least, not from anyone involved in this plot. Pegues is simply on the run, as is the witch. They may be on the run together.”

“In which case, they may be doubly hard to catch. Any idea where they might run to, Barton?”

“Perhaps back to the other world. Did you recover the jump device?”

Both Dupree and White look towards Willis, who shakes his head. I relax just a little. Someone else to blame if things do not work out. Dupree stands up.

“It appears we still have unfinished business, gentlemen. I will detain you no longer, Barton.” The door opens without anyone doing anything, Rachet waiting on the other side. Has he been listening to the entire conversation? “Mr. Rachet will show you out. Please keep in touch, we may have further need of your expertise as this all plays out. Once again, thank you for your invaluable assistance. You will be well rewarded for your hard work.”

I bow slightly. “Your success is my reward, First Minister.”

“How kind of you Barton. I will keep that in mind.”

As I walk past Rachet, I can’t help but let slip a look of satisfaction. My future seems assured.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Dupree sits down as soon as the turncoat leaves the room and the door shuts behind him.

“I don’t care what good may come of it, once a man turns on his comrades, I can’t ever trust him again.”

“As useful as such men are, I am forced to agree with Colonel Willis on this point,” says White. Glad that he’s backing me up.

“I do not have that luxury, gentlemen. Spies and traitors have been a part of our statecraft since long before I was born. Even before the Queen was born. If that is possible.”

Both White and Dupree chuckle at the joke at the Queen’s expense. I don’t join them.

“So what are you going to do with him?” I ask.

“I will use him, Colonel. He will help capture Pegues and his witch along with the rest of their people. Once they have been dealt with, Mr.Schicalli will receive his just reward and live a quiet life until attention is elsewhere and he can be safely disposed of.”

White nods his head in agreement. “A very practical solution to a difficult problem. People like Schicalli must be seen to be rewarded, otherwise it would be impossible to recruit others when the need arises, but they can really screw up the works later. They just know too much and can’t be trusted not to spill their guts later on.”

The lack of loyalty and honor in this room is appalling.

“At least he was telling the truth about the witch being in the room before the raid. Our cameras have a clear picture of her just before the Flash Booms go off.”

“And after?” asks White.

“The bright flash overwhelms iris control. You get a momentary whiteout. It only lasts a few seconds. When the cameras come back up, she’s gone. Seconds after my guys break through the door.”

“Any idea where she could have gone?”

“None, First Minister. We had that place locked down TIGHT! A fly couldn’t have gotten out of there.”

“What about Pegues?” asks White.

“We didn’t have him on camera. He wasn’t a prime target. We’re pretty sure he shows up later being hustled out the main door along with some other prisoners. We didn’t have cameras outside. After that, no idea. All my men are accounted for.”

“Bribery?”

“Not MY men, First Minister.”

“It would not be the first time a soldier …”

“Not MY men.”

“If you say so, Colonel Willis. Were their guns recovered?”

“Yeah, not there but at a farm about five klicks South. Nice stuff for civilians. Lots of ammo. They could have given us a bit of a bloody nose if they knew what they were doing.”

“But not enough to defeat us?”

“Not a chance, Mr. White. Not. A. Fucking. Chance. If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I have prisoner interrogations to oversee. Whatever they know, First Minister, we’ll know soon enough.”

“Right now, the witch Alexia is the highest priority. A great deal depends on finding her.”

“I understand. We don’t have to worry about the Geneva Convention over here so our options are wide open. That plus the Queen has her own ideas.”

Dupree looks uncomfortable. “I’m sure she has but I would suggest you involve her as little as possible.”

“Why?”

“The Queen is often more interested in the process than the results. If someone can be pushed too far, the Queen is most likely going to do so. The best answer I can give is that she enjoys it too much. That is dangerous when trying to acquire useable information.”

“Can’t see any harm in letting her try. She is in charge, isn’t she?”

Dupree waives me off with a flick of his hand. “I leave it to your good, informed discretion, Colonel Willis. Let me know when you have any results.”

“Yes, Sir.” Right after I tell the Queen. And she authorizes it.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When I reach the security area, the Queen is already there, waiting for me.

“Your Majesty! I am so sorry! If I had known you were here, I’d have left that meeting and run right over!”

“I know you would have, Colonel. I wanted you to finish the meeting with First Minister Dupree. You can tell me all about it later. I’ve been spending my time profitably. Getting reacquainted with all your fine men. Inspecting the prisoners, looking for good prospects, making certain that they know I am here. You should find many of them much more talkative than they were a few hours ago.”

“Did you do something to them?”

“Nothing requiring magic. People are just more willing to talk when the threat of harm is imminent. With me here, the threat could not be more imminent.”

I have not been looking forward to this. “My Queen, we have failed you. I have failed you. The rogue witch escaped. We had her trapped. There was no way she could have escaped us. I had a fast carriage waiting to bring her direct to you as a Birthday present from all of us, but … I failed you! I … I don’t know how she did it! Every possible exit was double covered. No one saw anything! I offer you my life for my failure, my Queen! We do not deserve your …”

“Hush! Hush, Colonel Willis! All is forgiven! You, your men, they all did their best, of that I am certain.”

“But we failed you!”

“Yes, you did. However, I can be forgiving, when necessary. It is now necessary. Learn from your mistakes, Colonel.”

She is beyond compare! There is no one like her in the entire universe! “My Queen, we do not deserve your forgiveness.”

“No, you do not but the situation is not that objectionable. If Alexia was so easily captured, she would not be worth having. Rest assured, there will be other opportunities, Colonel Willis.” She smiles at me as only she can. “Now, let us visit some of your prisoners. I have some ideas that I would like to try. No better time than the present. Spring is the mating season after all.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“She has bewitched them all.”

Beckwith’s cousin, Celedine Gamgee, agreed to talk with me. Just talk. So far.

“Why do you say all the Winthrop Group guards are bewitched? What exactly does that mean?

“I’m a cook. Cooks know almost everything that happens in the homes that employ them. We are awake when others sleep. No one notices us until they desire something. The maids are there mostly for their looks but cooks must be good. To serve the Queen and remain there for years, you must be very good. I am very very good at cooking and being invisible. As for the guards, they are all in love with her.”

“I guess I can see that, she is beautiful, at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“No. You do not understand. She takes them into her chambers and they come out unable to do anything but obey her.”

I knew a girl like that a couple of years ago. She was amazing. After a night with her, you’d kill a person if she asked you. What could a two hundred year old witch do if she had similar skills? A woman could get pretty damn good with two hundred years of practice. Was that it or was there more to it?

“Exactly how does she do this?”

The older woman smiles wickedly. “How do you think, child? Did your mother not explain these things to you?”

“I know enough to get by just fine.”

“A girl who looks as you do only ‘just fine’? Such a waste.”

“Look, sex is just sex. Good, bad or great. You can’t ‘bewitch’ a man by just fuc … having sex with him.” At least not for very long.

“I cannot, you may not but Queen Opulessa can and does. After she has been with them, the men from the other side deny her nothing.”

“Does she do this to men from this world?”

“If she does, I’ve never seen it. She has taken them to her chambers but they are not bewitched. The women are not bewitched either.”

Why just us and not them? Wait. Women? Whoa! That’s … that’s …. uuhh … kinda … hot.

“How many women … never mind. Not important. Doesn’t every one in the Palace do what they are told?”

“Yes, but most do it because they are paid, or afraid, or both. The other worlders do it because they desire to.”

“How many guards not part of the Winthrop Group are inside the Palace walls?”

“None. The other guards are on the outside. Only the bewitched ones on the inside.”

Interesting. “And they always do what the Queen tells them to do?”

“If she told them to dance naked in the courtyard then pair off, make love to each other and not remember it, it would happen.”

“Isn’t that going a bit too far? I mean …”

“Ten days ago. She was bored.”

My. God. The possibilities. “If I got you a camera, would you take some pictures of the Queen?”

“What is a camera?”

“A mechanical device, a small device, fits in the palm of your hand. Here, let me show you.” I pull my cell phone from the pocket of my skirt and turn it on. The screen lights up, then fills with icons. “You touch this image right there and the screen shows what the camera sees.” I turn the screen so Gamgee can see it. Her eyes are wide open, as is her mouth. I turn it to face her. “You look at the screen and when you see what you want to keep, you push this button …” The cell made a clicking sound. I’ll have to disable that. “… and the picture is here.” I turn the phone around so she can see the screen. It’s a picture of her.

“What sorcery is this?”

“It’s not magic, just tech. anybody can do it. Here, let me show you. Take this …”

She backs away. “No! I could not!”

“It’s easy! Just point it at something, keep it steady and push the button right here. You’re done just like that. Easy peazy.”

I carefully place it in her shaking hands and walk her through taking a shot. In no time at all, she’s shooting like she’s Diane Arbus.

“Let’s not waste all that juice. It’s a lot harder to recharge here than at home. Can you take that back to the Palace and take some pictures of the Queen without her knowing about it?”

“Why would you need those? There are several portraits of her around town, some very large.”

“I know but I need something a little more detailed. Can you do it safely? Beckwith would never forgive me if you were hurt.”

“Yes, I think so. She often walks across the courtyard to the stables, right past the kitchen window. It could be done.”

“Great! You take that with you and get me what you can, both sides plus front and back would be perfect but I’ll take what I can get. Just don’t take any unnecessary chances.”

“When dealing with the Queen, what is an unnecessary chance?”

“Be careful then.”

“I will.” She pockets the cell phone. “Now, may I ask you some questions?”

“Yeah, fine. Go ahead.”

“Were you truly a man before coming to our world?”

“I was.”

“A real man, not one of those womanly men?”

“I guess that’s a matter of opinion but I’d have to say that I was as manly as anyone you’d meet. More or less.”

“I would not believe it.”

“Why not?”

“You walk and talk and sit as a woman. You say odd things now and then but they are said as a woman would. Your gestures are all female. You brush the hair away from your face as easily as any woman. No one seeing you would ever see the slightest hint of a man.”

“Gosh. Thanks a lot. Just what I wanted to hear. You’ve no idea how that makes me feel.”

She smiles, as if I’d thanked her for a compliment. “You are welcome. So beautiful! Beckwith told me that you were the fairest girl she had ever seen but I would not believe her. I have seen the Queen! But she speaks the truth. More beautiful than the Queen. ’Tis not to be believed unless seen with one’s own eyes.”

“Beckwith said that? Yeah. Well, what can I say? A girl’s dream come true, right?”

“Oh yes! So lucky, and a witch too. Is your world like ours?”

“Yes and no. We don’t have witches and magic, so that’s two big diffs right there but I think the land looks a lot like my world would if not for all the development and the pollution. Living here’s like living in the wildest parts of Central Park, or maybe the woods of Vermont. I wouldn’t know a lot about that, I didn’t get out of the city much back home. I can say that it would be a lot colder back home right now. I’m guessing it’s like February or maybe March back home. You’d be lucky if it was above freezing for a high but here it’s almost Spring. We’ve got global warming but I don’t know what you’ve got to explain it. You don’t seem to be any closer to your sun.”

“It is all Opulessa’s doing. She wants a pleasant birthday so she makes certain there is only sunshine and warm breezes for the entire month.”

“She can control the weather?!”

“More like keep it at bay. Once the last official day of celebration ends, the winds, rains and cold return with great thunderstorms, scaring the children and livestock. There are floods everywhere and the Court yard becomes a muddy mess, but Opulessa cares not. She had a nice birthday celebration and that is all she cares for.”

“Do you know how she does it?”

“No, but you are also a witch, a Seventy Seven. Don’t you know?”

“I’ve only been a witch for like a hundred and twenty days. There’s still a lot to learn.”

“So it would seem. Beckwith’s not certain you will succeed.”

At least she’s honest. “She’s not the only one but we’re gonna give it our best shot. Those pictures could really help.”

Gamgee removes the cell phone from her pocket, hefting it in her hand. It looks like she might be getting ready to hand it back to me. After a few seconds, she returns it to her pocket.

“I will do what I can.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

They’ve kept me locked in this room ever since we landed.

Landed. I was never so relieved in my life when my feet finally touched the ground. I had never heard about a witch flying. I know there were stories in the other world about brooms and flying witches but they were just stories. Much of what was written about magic in that world was wrong, laughingly so at times.

Alexia left me almost as soon as we reached the farm. Two other witches took charge of me, leading me to this room and seeing to my needs ever since. The food has been good and it is clean and warm but there is nothing to keep my mind occupied, other than contemplating my fate and wondering why Alexia helped me escape.

Clearly, she didn’t need my help. Once clear of Patron Miller’s home, she could have simply flown away. Why risk her life for me? We aren’t exactly friends, certainly not after what she did to me at “The Silver Forge”. She had her reasons but I am unable to divine them. After breakfast on the third day, Alexia returned, accompanied by an older woman who I assumed was a witch.

“Morning, Pegues. Sleep well?”

“Yes, Alexia, better than I would if in the hands of the Queen. Or would you prefer Alex?”

“Alexia is fine. You could say that I have embraced my role in our little conspiracy. I intend to reform the name of ‘Alexia’ for present and future generations.”

“And exactly how do you intend to do that?”

She sits down on the end of my bed but the other witch remains standing, looking at me with distrust in her eyes.

“Interesting question. I have one for you. Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because I am trapped here and clearly not escaping.”

“So I should just tell you everything?”

“Why not? I’m certainly curious and you should be proud of all that you have accomplished.”

“Why not is because I’m not an idiot, Pegues. You can’t really expect me to start monologuing like the bad guy in the third act when he has the hero trapped, do you?”

“Are you the bad guy, Alexia?”

“You probably think so, that you’ve been ill-used by me, but I’m not the bad guy here. We’ve talked a lot about what we should do with you. Some see you as a threat, some as an asset not to be wasted.”

“How do you see me, Alexia?”

“I haven’t decided yet. When you were in my world, how much did you learn of our history?”

“Quite a bit. You’re a violent lot, aren’t you?”

“Very. Did you learn about South Africa?”

“No, not that I can recall.”

“That’s a shame. South Africa was a black majority country ruled by a white minority. This went on for a very long time before the black majority took control, after years of violent struggle, both sides committing atrocities like murder and mass killings. The man who led the black majority was a very smart guy. He stopped wholesale revenge violence by creating something called the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.”

“Which did what?”

“Anybody could come to the Commission, confess their crimes and walk away. There was not going to be any punishment unless it was an extraordinary circumstance, something really, really bad. Which, for South Africa, was saying a lot. The Commission was only open for a limited time. You don’t come in and confess no amnesty. You come in and lie, no amnesty. You may not keep your government job, you may not keep your big plantation, but you kept your freedom, your life. By and large, it worked and South Africa didn’t rip itself apart.”

“Who was this genius?”

“Nelson Mandela. Won a Nobel Peace Prize. Great man for a lot of reasons.”

“What does this history lesson have to do with me?”

“I am your truth and reconciliation commission, Pegues. Here and now. You tell me the truth, the whole truth and you get amnesty. Lie to me, it won’t be pretty.”

“Why should I believe you? You threatened me with a gun.”

“I still have the gun. I just don’t need it anymore. Tell you what, I’ll go first.”

The other woman is shocked. “Alexia! NO!”

She turns her head, raising her right hand. “Don’t worry, Dierdra. Nothing big, just a little trust building.” She turns back towards me. “I was never going to be a part of your plan, not after I learned who was behind it and who was going to benefit. I kept going along just to learn about this world and the details of what was going on. I particularly rejected your plan when I figured out that I was supposed to die.”

How could she possibly know that?! No one could be so stupid as to tell her that detail. Best to keep silent.

“Nothing? I’ll take silence as confirmation of a sort. Our group is organized and we have a pretty good plan, though some details need to be worked out. We’ll get there. Soon. So here’s the deal. We know quite a bit about Patron Miller’s plans already, things he hasn’t told anyone else. We know quite a bit about your activities too but I want to know it all and am willing to pay for it by letting you keep your life. You don’t know what we already know, so playing games with us is risky, though things like that haven’t stopped you before. Your choice. We’ll keep you under wraps until we make our move regardless but what happens to you afterwards is still up for grabs.”

“Assuming you win.”

“Naturally.”

“So my fate is tied to yours.”

“Pretty much, though that ship sailed as soon as the Queen’s boys kicked down the doors two days ago and I saved your ass.”

There is a knock at the door and a third woman enters, older than Alexia but younger than the one called Dierdra.

“Alexia, Emlilly has sent a message, the child’s condition has worsened.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be right there. Looks like you get a bit of a reprieve, Miran. We’ll talk when I get back. Remember, you don’t know what we know and your freedom is at risk. I’d say that the truth shall set you free.”

“Or you could be lying to me.”

“That’s a possibility too.”

She stands up and quickly leaves though the one called Dierdra remains after the door is shut, her arms crossed, a stern look on her face. Perhaps I can get some information from her.

“Where did Alexia go?”

“Why do you care?”

Not a promising start. “I recruited her.”

“You kidnapped her.”

“Not true, she came willingly.”

“Under very suspicious circumstances. You only told her the truth after she arrived.”

“So where has she gone?”

“There is a child, a boy, in … a nearby town, who is very sick. Alexia believes she knows why but the treatment has some risk to his life. She did not want to attempt to cure him unless his condition worsened. Unfortunately, it has so she has gone to his bedside to do what she can.”

“His bedside? She’s not a Healer. Alex had no medical training of any kind before he came here.”

She answers with a derisive snort. “Do you know why it took so long for us to reach Glory?”

“Because I told Tyber to take an indirect route.”

“You did but she took advantage of that order. We have been crossing the country, searching for people who are sick, in need of a miracle cure. Alexia has been curing them. She has developed a reputation among the people.”

“Is she addle pated? It puts everything at risk!”

“She knows that but can’t refuse to help when she can.”

“If the Queen hears about her and finds her because she helped a few people, she will never get a chance to help the world.”

“She knows! Alexia believes that it is just as important to help a person as it is to help the people. They are one and the same. She says that if you can rationalize not helping one person because of the big picture, you’re looking at the wrong picture.”

That’s Alex, an idealist with a realistic view of life. The two sides in constant conflict. You never know which side will win at any one time. It makes Alex very hard to predict.

“How can you follow someone who acts that way?”

“Because I believe as she does.”

How nice. Even if these people defeat Opulessa, they won’t be able to run a government. They all think like women. I had hoped that Alex might hold out but he seems to be the worst of the lot.

“Sometime sacrifices must be made for the greater good,” I say.

Dierdra smiles evilly. “I am so pleased to hear you say that. Please repeat it to Alexia and make sure you volunteer.”

“For what?”

“To be sacrificed, of course.”

“Why me?!”

“She should never have saved you. You already know too much about us and cannot be trusted. Your death is our best insurance but Alexia will have none of it. She is practically alone in this position. The rest of us want you gone, Pegues.”

“Then release me before I can learn more.”

She laughs. “Alexia warned us that you had a quick wit and tongue. We will wait until she returns and hears what you have to say.” She raps sharply on the door which quickly opens and closes after she departs, the old lock loudly engaging.

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

There was a loud, frantic, knocking on my door just as I was about to open my lunch beer. I limited myself to just one beer at lunch but it’s a good one. An imported Pilsner from Germany. I was down to my last case and personal supplies wouldn’t be coming in for at least two weeks. Thank God I hadn’t opened it yet. I stashed it back in the little DC electric fridge and opened my office door. It was Trooper Beech. He saluted and I returned it.

“What’s up, Beech?”

“Colonel Willis, Queen Opulessa wants to see you, Dupree and that guy White from the Consortium. Pronto.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, but she seemed kinda pissed. That ain’t good.”

“I’ll handle it, Ernie. You supposed to get the rest of them?”

“No, she sent Taylor and Pinski.”

I take my pistol belt down from a hook on the wall and strap it on, making sure that my right hand falls just above the butt of the Colt .45. I know it’s old fashioned but it was my father’s service pistol and the Winthrop Group doesn’t give a damn what I carry just as long as I hit what I aim at. And nothing else.

“Good. Return to duty, Beech.”

Another snap salute. “Yes, Sir!” Beech hurries off. A good soldier.

As I stride through the corridors towards the Queen’s chambers, a number of the passing maids give me coy smiles. Some aren’t so coy. It’s not surprising. I’m one of Alpha dogs around this place. Maybe the Alpha dog. The Queen has given me permission to try out the local babe population but it just doesn’t seem right. An oath of fidelity should mean something. It doesn’t stop the other men from playing the field and I won’t hold it against them. That’s one of the reasons we all signed up, for the full male experience, including screwing around. The Company doesn’t care, just as long as we get our jobs done and I make sure of that. At least I did until that damn rebel witch showed up.

Dupree is waiting outside the Queen’s chambers when I arrive. By the time I greet him, White’s shown up.

“Do either of you know what the hell is going on? One of your men, Willis, practically drug me here.”

“Don’t know, Don. You got any idea, First Minister?”

“Not directly, Colonel, but it is likely about the other world witch.”

“Well, let’s find out.”

I reach up, grab the heavy metal knocker mounted on the wooden door and give it a couple of big swings. The loud thuds echo through the hallways.

“Come in, gentlemen.”

The other two fall back slightly as I pull the door open.

“Best not keep the Lady waiting … gentlemen.” I walk in with the other two falling in close behind. The door closes behind us with a gentle whisper. I can see Opulessa sitting at a large wooden table with three other smaller chairs sitting around her. She’s dressed fairly simply for her, a lilac purple gown, woven silver belt around her small waist, flat soled silver slippers, several rings but no necklace. She wears a golden tiara instead of her formal crown. She gestures toward the empty chairs.

“Be seated, gentlemen.”

We all take the seat nearest us so I end up on the Queen’s right, White on her left with Dupree sitting opposite of her.

“I’ll be brief so that you all can get back to work. Why have you not captured this upstart witch known as Alexia? Such a name! Has she no shame?”

“We have no good leads, your Majesty,” I say. “All the captured men were questioned but they claimed to know nothing. I tend to believe them, in light of what we put them through.”

“I received the same responses, though some of them provided false information. I also believe them,” Dupree says.

“Her main contact with the group was Miran Pegues, who also escaped. We’re assuming they’re traveling together. If we find him, we might find her or he can tell us where she’s hiding.”

“That is all well and good, Colonel Willis but I want results, not some hopeful plan.”

“To be fair,” says White, “Colonel Willis is operating with rather old technology and he has captured several hundred rebels. That is a lot of people to thoroughly interrogate. He has very limited resources.”

“What does the leader of my government have to say?”

“We are searching, my Queen, sparing no expense. Turning over every pebble, probing every forest, overturning every village,” Dupree answers. “We have over 2,000 men in the field as we speak, with more coming every day.”

“Interesting, then how do you think she has avoided this massive manhunt.”

“It is a very large country with many places to hide.”

“But my sources say she is nearby, gentleman.”

“What sources?” I ask.

“People I know and trust. They say a mysterious woman travels from village to village, caring for the sick and performing almost miraculous cures. The recent reports are all from this area.”

“We also have heard these reports,” says Dupree. “Upon investigation, we find nothing, sometimes not even the alleged beneficiary of the cure. No one knows anything.”

“I cannot do your jobs for you, gentlemen. I expect to have this interloper prostrate before me by the end of my birthday celebrations. If that does not happen, changes will be made. Am I clear about this?”

We all acknowledge hearing her loud and clear. Then she reaches out and covers my left hand with her right hand.

“You other two are dismissed but I wish for you to stay, Colonel Willis. I need to discuss the behavior of one of your men towards one of my favorite maids.”

The other two hurry out, leaving the Queen and I alone.

“Is there a problem, my Queen?”

“Not at all, Colonel Willis. I just wanted an excuse to speak with you alone.”

“You don’t need an excuse, your Majesty. You only need ask me.”

“I know that, Colonel. The excuse was for the ears of the First Minister and Mr. White.”

“So my men treat your favorite maid well.”

“Very well indeed! She is highly satisfied! Though she wishes you would spend some time with her.”

“My Queen, I cannot. My oath to you …”

“If I were to order you?”

“I would obey, of course but I beg you not to.”

“Do not worry, Colonel. I would never do that. I find your faithfulness quaint and do not wish to spoil our relationship. Nor were those admonishments to find the witch aimed at you.”

“They should have, my Queen. We have been derelict in our duty towards you and I swear that we will …”

“Colonel, please. I understand more than you may know. If Dupree and his men can capture her, so much the better, but I doubt that he is capable of doing so. This is simply another test of her skills. I want to keep the pressure on her. Eventually, she will come to me.”

“My Lady, that allows her to pick the place and time! We do not want to give her that advantage. It could be crucial!”

“She is a mere child, Willis. Full of potential, which I will us to further my agenda. You are excused.”

I bow low. “As you wish, my Queen.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It is either very late or very early when Alexia returns to my room. She looks very tired.

“Sorry about that, Miran. Now that you’ve had a little more time to think about it, what’s it gonna be? The whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

“Where were you?”

“Had to see a man about a horse.”

“I’m serious! Dierdra said that you were out playing doctor. Is that true?”

“I’m the one asking questions here, Pegues.”

“I’ll answer your questions after you answer mine. Is it true?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“What gives you the right to go around my world and subject poor sick people to your experiments on their bodies? Do they even know who or what you are?”

“I tell ’em. I tell ’em there are no guarantees, that I’ll do the best I can.”

“What is your best? You have no skill or training to offer them.”

“As opposed to the charms and voodoo that passes for medical care in your world? I’ve saved a lot of lives, Pegues. If I was smarter or better, I could have saved more, like that boy tonight.”

“He died?”

“Yeah, he died. Leukemia. It was too advanced by the time I first saw him. He needed a bone marrow transplant. I could clean up his blood, a temporary cure, but it didn’t last long. He’d still be alive if he was over in my world but … I can only do so much!”

“Why do anything at all?”

“Because I can! Leeanna was bitten by deadly snakes and I saved her life! One man had an arm so bad he was dying of gangrene right in front of me. I fixed him right up. Some things I can cure just like snap but others … I don’t have the resources.”

“Why try at all? You’re risking everything.”

“How can I not? How can I sit by and do nothing when I’ve got the power to maybe cure someone?”

“Or kill them.”

“I’ve already killed two men, or have you forgotten? I sure as hell haven’t. Nobody else dies on my watch, not if I can help it.”

“What about the Queen? What about her guards” What about the First Minister and all his people?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“That’s impossible! You yourself paid for all those guns, which were captured by the way. What were you going to do with them?”

“They weren’t part of my plan.”

“It couldn’t be done! Revolutions are bloody things and they always will be.”

“Then the blood spilled will be a trickle instead of a flood.”

“This is madness! What do you have, a bunch of old women?”

“A bunch of witches. We can do this!”

“And then what? How do you rule?”

“I don’t rule, no one does. The people can decide their own fate. I’m not imposing anything. I’m giving people a chance to fix this world.”

“It will be a spectacular failure! People are conditioned to accept concepts like ‘democracy’ and ‘majority rule’ or ‘a Bill of Rights’ in your world but they are unknown in this world.”

“The concept of ‘freedom’ isn’t. I’ve seen a lot more of your world than you saw of mine. People need a government that cares about them.”

“We never have in the past. Why start now? It is every man for himself.”

“Yes. Man. You of all people should know the difference. You spent time as a woman. Didn’t that teach you anything?”

“Yes. If you want power to control your own fate, take it.”

“You knew that already when you crossed over to trick my brother into joining your fight. He wasn’t a fighter. Opulessa would have mopped the floor with him.”

“As she will with you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“And who created this brilliant plan of yours, the plan to overthrow the most powerful witch in the history of our world.”

“It was a group effort.”

“We both know how successful those are.”

“Fine. It’s mostly my plan with a few tweaks by the others.”

“What qualifies you to be a tactician?”

“I have spent my life since the age of ten infiltrating and attacking large, complex systems.”

She may actually have something there. No one could possibly describe our government as lean and efficient. Some of us had argued that the best approach would be for our group to wait a little bit longer for it to collapse from its own bloated bulk and simply pick up the pieces. Alexia’s outsider’s view may give her a distinct advantage. At least in the attack phase. The ruling phase … .

“Even if you should succeed, this ‘truth and reconciliation’ idea is a farce! We are sitting on over two hundred years of suppressed rage and revenge. Once Opulessa’s control is lifted, it would take an army to keep the people in check.”

“Really? Give it a try. Tell me the truth.”

“What truth?”

“The part of this operation you didn’t want me to know. The part that makes you feel shame. Tell me and walk away.”

What is the additional harm? “As you wish. It was I who first suggested that we would be better off keeping Opulessa and getting rid of the First Minister and his people, using you as a diversion. I was also the one who reported you to the New York police department, giving them your location in that abandoned building.”

She seems impressed. “Not bad. Forcing me into a corner so that I’d willing take whatever escape route was offered. I’ll have to remember that one for future use. Anything else?”

“I sent those men to attack you in Shellcrest. It was a test to see if any magical abilities had yet manifested. They were instructed not to harm you, just …”

“Test me. I get it. Anything else?”

“No. Nothing I can think of.”

“See. That wasn’t so bad. I’d figured out or suspected most of it anyway, except for the part about the police which, frankly, I should have suspected. Too many coincidences for something not to be funny. Now, don’t you feel better?”

Surprisingly, I do but I will never tell her that. “Now it is your turn, Alexia.”

“Sorry, ‘truth and reconciliation’ is a one way street until we’re done with this. After that, I’ll tell you everything. Some of it will make you laugh.” She reaches for the door handle.

“Then tell me one thing,” I ask. She grabs the handle but stops, turning back towards me. I press on. “Why did you save me from the Queen’s men the other night?”

“Because you were my contact with Miller’s group. You knew more about me than anyone. If they didn’t have you, I was a lot safer.”

“Agreed. Was that the only reason?”

She smiles at my question. “No, not at all. It gave me a chance to rough you up a bit. A little payback.”

I remember the punch to my stomach. That was more than ‘a bit’. “I guess that I may have deserved that. Those were the only reasons?”

The smile disappears. “No. There was one more. Despite what has been said today, I believe that you are uniquely qualified to help this world evolve into a better place for future generations. You’ve seen my world with its pluses and minuses; you know the pluses and minuses of your world. Once I’ve gone back home, you’ll be the only one left who can help this world learn from our successes and mistakes. That’s important and I didn’t want to lose that. Give it some thought … Mirantha.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Gamgee had returned with the cell phone earlier today and I wanted to get to work right away. I downloaded all the pictures. She managed to get a little video, which helps a lot. Johnathyn and I studied them all for at least an hour; both of us looking for any telltale details that would throw us off. Neither of us could find any imperfections. She’s had over two hundred years to get her look right. I’ve got just a few days to copy it.

After reviewing everything multiple times, I start working on the actual transformation. This can’t be half-assed. I’ve got to get it absolutely dead right. We’ll be trying to fool people who likely have her image burned into their minds. I might be able to fool a few by speaking from the shadows or behind pillars but our success depends on every one of them doing what they are told and they must not suspect a single thing is out of place.

My first attempts were a little rough. I was passable but it will take a lot more than passable to fool the men in the Palace. I started with her hair and worked my way down. Johnathyn carefully reviewed every variation. He has a good eye for details and is a stickler for accuracy. It must come from his profession. You wouldn’t think of smithing as a fine detail line of work but if you’re fixing something, it’s all got to be just right to work.

The whole process is very tiring, using a lot of energy, both magical and physical. I have to take several breaks, once for lunch, but Johnathyn won’t let me goof off for very long. He can be a little slave driver when he wants to be. Must be all that experience driving the horses.

When we’re both finally satisfied with the image, I have to start practicing her movements. She’s smaller than I am but makes grand gestures, big movements but always graceful. Plus, there are small details hidden inside the big movements. She’s an actress who’s always on stage, always on display, always conveying a message with each twist and turn. I’ve got to keep my concentration up to maintain both the image and then how to move.

It is exhausting.

We practice well into the night and finally stop simply because neither of us can go on, Johnathyn having strained with me all day, though I think I’ve finally got it nailed. I couldn’t spend all day as her but I just need about fifteen minutes of perfection, which is hard enough.

Gamgee is coming back to judge the results along with Dierdra, Bengsston, and Beckwith. Gamgee sees the Queen practically every day and the other three have met her once or twice. I find some flowing dresses, something with a little body in the skirt and Leeanna helps me put together something that looks somewhat regal. I’m not worrying about the clothes yet, that’s a whole other thing but there’s several ways we can get around that. For now, I just want something that looks right and doesn’t distract from the overall effect.

When we arrive at the barn, everyone is there, which doesn’t help my nerves. Leeanna and I step behind some bales of hay while Johnathyn sets the stage, putting out some tables and chairs plus a set of steps for me to use.

I want to review everything one last time but decide I better not. I might not get a chance to do that when we go live. After a few seconds of prep, I change my image and Leeanna helps me dress.

“Good luck,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” I respond.

When I step out from behind the bales, there is an audible gasp from the girls. I begin my routine, moving around, sitting, standing, picking things up, putting them down, up the stairs, turn and back down. I hit my marks like a champion dancer. Johnathyn stands off to the side, his broad smile encouraging me. Once I finish my routine, I ad lib a bit, doing a quick two step and turn.

Beckwith walks up to me to get a better look.

“Amazing. Absolutely amazing. You won’t fool a single person who knows the Queen.”

“What are you talking about?! That was perfect!”

“Perfectly wrong.”

Dierdra is there before I can punch Beckwith in the face. “Calm down, Alexia. I am afraid that Beckwith is correct.”

I look over at Gamgee for help but she nods her head in agreement. “You took my breath away for several moments but after the shock wore off, I knew it could not be her. I’m sorry.”

Johnathyn is upset. “I challenge any one of you to point out one single way Alexia does not look exactly like Opulessa.”

“It has nothing to do with how she looks,” says Beckwith. “It is how she feels.”

“FEELS?!” Johnathyn demands.

Dierdra tries to restore peace. “It is not your fault, Alexia. You could not know because you have never met Opulessa. She has a … presence that can be felt.”

“A presence?”

“It is hard to describe. She uses it to influence your emotions. You can feel what she feels about you.”

“Or what she wants you to think she feels about you,” says Gamgee. “She can control it. Sometimes it is there, sometimes it is not. It is not always the same intensity.”

“So where does it come from? More importantly, how do I copy it?”

I look from face to face but none of the other witches says anything.

Finally, Beckwith answers. “We don’t know.”

“How can you NOT know?”

“Because she is a Seventy Seven and we aren’t. None of us have a presence, at least not one that anyone can feel.”

“What about me? I’m a Seventy Seven. Where’s my presence? My aura?”

Dierdra steps closer to me. “You don’t have one, Alexia”

“Why the hell not?”

“Again, we are not certain. Obviously, for Opulessa, this happened many years ago, before any of us were born. We think it develops for a Seventy Seven when she becomes a woman.”

“But I am a woman. I’ve been a woman ever since I got here months ago. I couldn’t be more of a woman!”

“You are a female,” says Beckwith. “But you are not a woman. Yet.”

“What are you talking about? How can I be female and not a woman?”

Dierdra pulls me slightly aside. “Leeanna is female but not a woman. Yet.”

“Is this about age? How old do I need to be before …”

“It is not age, it is maturity and … the act.”

Maturity and the act? What are they talking about? What act? The act. I think about it for a moment or two before it hits me.

“Are you talking about losing your virginity? Sex? Because I can guarantee you that I was not a virgin when I crossed over.” Far, far from it.

“Yes, but since you came across, have you had an opportunity to do … the act?”

“No. Not exactly. Doesn’t all my past experience mean anything?”

“Apparently not.”

“Well … that’s a gyp.”

“Gyp or not, that is what we suspect.”

I look over at Johnathyn. “Let me get this straight, you’re saying that I’m not going to be able to impersonate Opulessa, which is an absolutely vital part of our plan, unless I have sex.”

“With a man,” adds Beckwith. “I have a cousin who might be willing to volunteer.”

“Drop dead, Beckwith.”

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

We had finished questioning the captured rebels last week. It was clear that most of them knew very little about the overall plans and absolutely nothing about the rebel’s witch. The few at the top that did know something about her didn’t know much. The prize of that group would have been Miran Pegues but he’s nowhere to be found.

I’ve reviewed our procedures top to bottom but I’ll be damned if I know how she got away and took that Pegues guy with her. It’s as if she had a chopper stashed nearby and just flew off, silently. With a passenger.

Most of the rebels went to prison but a choice few of the leaders were turned over to the Queen. Several of them begged us to shoot them instead. If I were in their shoes, I might have asked for the same thing. Now the Queen has called me to meet her at the stables again. I think she does that just to see my reaction to her latest “pets”.

I’ve doubled the security on the Queen, short shifting some areas in the Palace, primarily the First Minister’s offices. He complained, naturally, but I told him to take it up with the Queen. I haven’t heard back yet on that one. Dupree can add some locals to the militia stationed outside the Palace but he’s not totally sure about their loyalties so he’s not looking to make that force too big.

Honestly, I don’t know how these people have gotten by so long, what with all the back stabbing, spying and shaky loyalties. I like having my feet on solid ground. Know who you can trust, know your job, do your job, go home. Uncertainty gnaws away at discipline.

It’s good to see that my men are on alert when I pass through each level of security around the Queen. As usual, she’s alone when in her private area of the stables. I have to steel myself before opening that last door. Locking my eyes straight ahead and ignoring all the strange grunts, groans and screams coming from the pens on either side of me, I stride directly towards the Queen as quickly as my pride will allow. Her smile when she sees me almost makes me forget where we are meeting.

Almost.

“Colonel Willis! Prompt, as usual.”

I stop and bow slightly. “It is my pleasure to serve you, my Liege.”

She is standing on a step in front of a solid board gate almost six feet high. Mercifully, I can’t see into the stall from where I’m standing but there’s no doubt something is happening inside. It sounds like there are two big animals inside, one huffing and puffing, the other moaning and lowing, kinda like a cow. I was a city kid so I don’t know much about farms and farm animals, other than I like to eat them when they’re cooked medium rare. I can hear them shuffling around and banging into the sides of the stall, sometimes pretty damn hard. The Queen doesn’t flinch, just stands there, looking in, a smile on her face, occasionally turning her head to get a better view of whatever the hell is going on.

“Have you seen my most recent acquisition?”

“No Ma’am, I haven’t.”

“Would you care to?”

“If it’s all the same to you, Ma’am, I’d prefer not to.”

Her smile is directed straight at me. “Come now, Colonel. Indulge your Queen.”

My feet move forward as if commanded to do so. As I near the gate, I can begin to see over the top. It’s a big, black bull, hunched over the back of a smaller brown and white cow. The bull is plowing the cow for all he’s worth, rolling his eyes and foaming at the mouth in between bursts of breath that spray spit across the heifer’s soft, brown fur. She really looks almost too small for this kind of assault.

The bull is pushing the heifer around pretty good. Right now, she’s pinned against the far wall, their backs and hind legs about the only thing I can see, but she’s making a lot of noise, lowing, almost moaning, with each powerful thrust. Despite the surroundings, I’m starting to get into it, jerking my hips ever so slightly in time with the bulls plunging cock. I think the Queen notices it but I don’t stop.

Yeah! Take that you sexy, little cow! Take my big, fat … suddenly, the heifer’s right front leg buckles, throwing the couple sideways up against the wall. They recover quickly and return to rutting but now I can see them from the side. The heifer turns her face towards me. Oh GOD!

“Is-is-sss that-that …” I stammer.

“Why, yes it is Colonel. I call her ‘Millie’. This is her first time with Rufus and I so wanted her to enjoy it. I’ll give her some time to get accustomed to his very frequent attentions before becoming pregnant. She needs to fill out a bit before bearing calves, don’t you think?”

“I-I-I-w-wouldn’t kn-now M-ma’am.”

“Not a farm boy? Too bad. You can learn much from a well run farm.”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the heifer … Miller’s face. Definitely human eyes, mostly human head until you get to the ears, nose and mouth. It’s like he’s wearing a half cow Halloween mask from the nose on down, but it’s sickenly real. And I was just mentally fucking that … thing seconds ago! God! If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was actually smiling, enjoying itself. How is that possible? I thought she wanted him punished.

The Queen cocks her head slightly to the side, looking at my face as I stare at what once was Patron Miller.

“You are wondering why I permit her to enjoy this, aren’t you, Colonel?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Because pleasure can be torture also. Millie remembers who she once was, the life she led, the mistakes she made that brought her here. Right at this moment, none of that matters because she is overcome by her animal urges but, as soon as Rufus is done with her, all of those thoughts will come flooding back into her mind along with the memories of what she just did. The shame of it all will be unbearable, as will the shame of the next time when she willingly submits to Rufus’ demands tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. And so on. Pleasure is a very important tool when wielded correctly. AH! I think Rufus is almost finished. This will be fun!”

With one last, loud bellow, the bull drives forward and then stays there for several seconds, Millie’s eyes glaze over in … satisfaction? He then dismounts, pulling out his astonishingly large cock. A gush of his semen flows from Millie’s vagina. I hear an unusually loud buzzing sound and then at least a dozen enormous flies zoom past me and land on Millie’s rump, where they appear to be eating the discharged semen.

“What the hell are those things?! They’re as big as the palm of my hand. They look like … flies of some kind.”

“You are correct, Colonel. Millie had people around her all the time in her prior life so I thought it unfair to leave her alone in her new life. She has all her old friends and comrades to keep her company. They can clean up after her sessions with Rufus, eat her shit and occasionally suck her blood. Just like the old days.”

“You mean that those things were once MEN?!”

“Certainly. If you could safely catch one, I’m sure you would recognize him.”

The thought is so nauseating that I can barely keep from vomiting. Just then, one of the bugs flies slowly past my face, pausing for a second or two. She’s right, I do recognize him. It’s Bickle Rholls, a man I interrogated four times. That pushed me over the edge.

“Oh My! How unfortunate, Colonel. Luckily, Millie’s little friends will eat practically anything so they should have that cleaned up in a moment.”

That image almost causes me to puke a second time. “I’m sorry your Majesty. It must have been something I ate for breakfast. I-I have to ask. Those flies. Do they …”

“Oh yes, just like my lovely Millie. They remember all of it, including Millie’s role in their ruined lives. I expect that they bite particularly hard when they need her blood.”

“How long will they all …”

“As long as I wish, Colonel. As long as I wish. I did not call you out here simply to show off my handiwork. I wanted to speak with you where I was certain we would not be overheard … at least by creatures capable of repeating what they might hear. I noticed you have increased the security around me despite my assurances that I do not need it.”

“Yes, Ma’am, you’re correct. I can’t take any chances with your safety.”

“I must assume some guilt in creating this sense of over vigilance therefore, I will not punish you. Yet. But I will explain something that will, hopefully, solve the problem. Can you keep a secret, Colonel Willis?”

“Your secret? Without question! I would die first.”

“I do believe you would. Excellent. The reason I do not fear this young witch is that it is impossible for her to kill me just as it is likely impossible for me to kill her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Witches as advanced as we are rarely do battle with one another. When we do, the magic moves between the two witches, with one growing stronger and the other weaker but as soon as the stronger witch attacks, the weaker one grows stronger from the magic used to attack her. There is always a balance of power. No matter how weak one of us becomes, a killing strike from the other will make her stronger.”

“Then how does one of you win?”

“It is a test of wills, one of the witches can break the will of the other, forcing the other to quit. These battles can take days, even weeks, eventually, one of them quits, surrendering. The other is the winner. I have never lost, Colonel Willis, and never will. I want this contest to occur. I need to win. She is a mere inexperienced child, there is no chance she can defeat me. All your extra security may frighten her off.”

“My Queen, are you saying you are immortal, that you cannot die?”

“That would be wonderful but it is not true. Everyone, even witches, eventually dies but the inevitable can be put off for a very long time. I can say that magic will never kill me, so this upstart witch will never kill me. She is an asset to be exploited, not a threat to be feared.”

“This balance of power you talked about. You can never get so weak that you could die?”

“No, it is not possible.”

“How about too much power? Could you explode or something?”

“What a colorful thought! No witch has ever tried to absorb all the power. It is a foolish thing to attempt. You can be certain I never will.

“Are you ordering me to drop all protection for you?”

“No, Colonel. I just want your normal level of efficient security. Extra security may scare her off but no security would create suspicions.”

“Now that I understand, my Liege, I will obey with pleasure. Is there anything else you wish me to do?”

“Not at this time. Just continue as before.”

“If I am not being impertinent, how do you kill a high level witch?”

She smiles, making me feel blessed. “That is impertinent but I will forgive your curiosity. I also will not answer that question. I may trust you a great deal, Colonel, but I do not trust anyone that much.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Somebody could have said something! Presence. What the HELL is PRESENCE?! That shit Beckwith knew and she didn’t say squat! Just sat there, let me go through the whole damn charade and then shot me down. She just loved that! She’s been giving me nothing but trouble from God Damn day ONE! Jealous Bitch!”

“Please calm down, Alexia.”

“CALM DOWN?! A major part of this plan is that I get in the Palace and disable the Winthrop guards. If I don’t do that, those poor bastards will fight to the death to protect Opulessa. To the death, Johnathyn. They’ll die. Some of our people will die. YOU could die!”

“I accepted that as a possibility a long time ago, Alexia.”

“Oh no you don’t! You don’t get to die and leave me alone to take care of Leeanna. That’s not going to happen. Just forget it right now, buster!”

“Uhhh … then I will not die.”

“You bet your sweet ass you won’t die. There’s got to be another way to take them out without hurting them.”

“Then let us think about it.”

We did. The rest of the day and far into the night. Nothing else works as well as the original plan. Not even close.

I look over at Johnathyn, sitting on a wooden box next to me in the wagon. Maybe we could save the original plan. It’s not like I hadn’t thought about it. We’ve been sleeping together in the same place for months. Ever since that night at the Miryian Waters, he’s crept into my dreams. We’ve done some pretty wild stuff in my dreams. Plus, I’ve seen how he’s looked at me sometimes. We’ve gotten really good at the ‘husband and wife’ routine. I’m almost comfortable with it. And Leeanna treats us both as her parents, even trying to play one off the other, the little schemer. I put a stop to that right quick. When you think about it, we’ve done damn near everything a married couple does except the sex.

It’s not like I’m some shy, virginal bride. Technically, yes, I’m a virgin, that’s our problem, but I’m not really a virgin. I’ve been with lots of women. Lots. I’ve had more than a few hookups in my day. Strictly recreational sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We just do it, get it over with, I get my “presence” and we’re back on track. No big deal.

Right? Yeah, sure, except this time, I’m the one getting fucked. I know how big he is. What’s that old saying? Oh yeah. “Close your eyes and think of England.” Do your duty. People have done worse for a good cause.

Oh God … here I go.

“Johnathyn?”

“Yes?”

“This whole thing is important. Beating Opulessa, bringing a whole new, better world for Leeanna and girls like her. It’s important, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“A lot of people have sacrificed a lot. Dierdra, Steinvild, Emlilly, Olga, Pamela, Silva, all the girls.”

“Beckwith?”

“Yes, even Beckwith. My point is a lot of people have so much invested in this revolution. People have died to get us to this point in time. We’re almost ready to take control. There is so much at stake. It’s not asking too much for us to …”

“To what?”

“To … you know.”

“I am uncertain.”

“Geez, you’re not making this easy. What Dierdra was talking about.”

“Dierdra said many things.”

He’s gonna make me say it. “Sex, Johnathyn. Losing my virginity. Obtaining my ‘presence’. Saving the original plan.”

“If I remember the conversation correctly, it was pure speculation that having sex would be the cause for you to develop a ‘presence.’”

“Yeah, there are no guarantees but it was their best guess and they have way more experience in this area than you and I do.”

“Agreed. Do you wish for Beckwith to contact her cousin?”

“NO! Of course not!”

“I am glad to hear it. It would be a breech in security. What are you proposing?”

“I’m not proposing! Wait … oh, that’s not what you meant. No, I’m suggesting that you and I take care of the problem ourselves.”

“Would you not be better off with Beckwith’s cousin? At least he has some connection to our group instead of some total stranger.”

He’s intentionally doing this. “Listen carefully, Johnathyn. What I am suggesting is that you and I quietly slip away from the group, we have superficial sex, we return to the group, having solved my virginity problem.”

“Do you view your virginity as a ‘problem’?”

“For the moment it is, but it’s a problem with a quick solution.”

“And you are suggesting that I be that quick solution.”

“Well, when you put it that way, not exactly, but you and I together can make it happen. No big deal. A little horizontal bop and we’re done.”

“You make it sound so appealing. How could I possibly say no?”

“Johnathyn, please don’t be that way. It’s necessary for the good of the cause.”

“If it is so necessary, I’ll find Beckwith.”

“NO! I don’t want her cousin! I want …”

He leaned in closer, looming over me. “What DO you want?”

“Why are you giving me so much grief over this? It’s no big deal.”

“If it is ‘no big deal’ as you say, why have we not been having sex these past months?”

“Well … it’s obvious! There’s Leeanna. And Dierdra. And the revolution. Revolutions just don’t happen by themselves, you know. You gotta work at it. We’ve just been busy.”

“There have been many opportunities. Many opportunities. We have both turned down offers to care for Leeanna to give us time alone. You made your feelings on the subject quite clear.”

“Don’t give me that! You agreed too.”

“Out of necessity. I would not pressure you into anything.”

“Well, I’ve – I’ve changed my mind.”

“Because of the revolution? That is just another form of pressure. No thank you. Not interested.” Johnathyn spun on the box, turning his back towards me.

“Johnathyn! Please don’t make me beg!”

“You would never beg and I would never give in. They are our complimentary natures. That is why we get along so well.”

“We get along so well but you won’t do this for me, for us. For Leeanna.”

“Do not bring her into this!”

“Why not? You told me at the very start that you were doing this for her.”

“What would she think about us if she knew that we had loveless sex purely to benefit from it? What kind of moral example is that?”

“Loveless?! Are you saying that you don’t …”

“Be honest with yourself, ALEX!”

That hurt. Johnathyn calling me Alex hurt me, stunned me … then stunned me again that I was so upset and hurt in the first place. He simply called me by my real name but coming from him, it means so much more than that. I can feel tears starting to gather in my eyes. I haven’t cried in decades. I haven’t cried in this world. I didn’t cry at my mother’s and brother’s funeral. I honestly can’t remember the last time I cried. Johnathyn has turned his back to me again.

“You have no idea how hard it has been for me to see you every day, to be so close to you at night, to not be able to just reach out and touch you. I have only known you as a woman. A woman of great strength, great intelligence, great morality and, yes, great beauty. A beauty that is unsurpassed by any. I know in my head that five months ago you were a man but my heart says otherwise. What is ‘no big deal’ to you is much more than that to me. You could not possibly care for me as I do you or it would be a ‘big deal’. I do not blame you, Alexia. You were tricked into coming to my world and have stayed of your own free will to help us. You are the one who has suffered the most. I know that it is impossible for you to love a man, regardless of which world you live in. If we win, you will return to your world and we shall be parted forever. Again, I do not blame you, it is the correct thing to do, my head agrees but my heart. My heart …”

My vision grows fuzzy and unfocused due to the gathering tears. I’m not this strong, perfect icon that Johnathyn describes. I think I see his head drop down but I should be the one hanging my head. I came and stayed for vengeance. Pure and simple. Changing this world didn’t come up until way later. I’m not brave, I’m not a genius. I’ve got the survival instincts of a New York rat! I’ve been getting by on guts, bravado and luck but I’m tapped out. No more. A few tears trickle down my cheeks. I brush them away, along with the next few more tears but it’s a waste of time as they start to fall in torrents.

“Johnathyn … I’m so sorry … I can’t do this … anymore,” I gasp between sobs. “I … can’t do … this … alone. I’m sorry … about … everything … let you all … down … Sorry …”

I can’t see anything through the tears but I can feel Johnathyn wrap me in his strong arms, holding me gently against his broad chest. My arms slide up and I grab him round his thick, muscular neck, hanging on for dear life itself, still crying buckets.

“Alexia , please, you are not alone,” he whispers into my ear. “You will never be alone as long as I have breath.” He softly kisses my forehead. I don’t deserve him. He thinks I’m this great, wonderful person, but I’m not. I am a fraud.

“Johnathyn. No. I’m not what … you think. I’m a … not a … good person.”

“You are what everyman desires, Alexia.” His lips brush against my damp cheek, leaving a tingling sensation trailing behind.

I pull myself up so that I am nose to nose with him, our eyes inches apart. “You’re my strength, Johnathyn. You and Leeanna. Without the two of you, I’m … less. With you, I’m a better person than I’ve ever been before. I need you. I need and …” I stop.

I can feel his big hands slide down my back, cross at my waist, then slide apart again to cup my ass. “You need and … what?” he murmurs.

I’m no longer crying but my body’s trembling. Our mouths are so close; we’re breathing each other’s air. I inhale as he exhales. “I-I-need and … love you, Johnathyn. My Husband.”

We keep breathing in sync for several seconds, I start to get light headed. Johnathyn pulls me closer. “As I do you. Alexia … my Wife.”

Placing the palm of my right hand behind Johnathyn’s head, I pull it forward the last fractions of an inch until our lips lightly touch. It’s as if I’m experiencing kissing for the first time, completely different from my experience as a man. It’s both softer, more flexible but also more stimulating. We kiss harder, the passion building. Short, quick kisses mixed with longer, lingering kisses, tasting each other’s mouth. Johnathyn is silent, though I can hear him start to breathe harder, louder. I’m doing the same but sounds rise up from my throat, out of my control. “Mmhhmhhmm uuhmhhaaa.”

Johnathyn slips away from my lips, instantly moving slowly down my chin to my throat, kissing gently but insistently the whole way.

“Oohhmhhmmyyesss ohhhmmmyyyesssss,” I moan quietly, my fingers wrapped in his hair, pulling him tightly to the base of my neck as I lightly encourage him to move lower, to my chest … my tingling breasts. The top button of my blouse stops his progress, disappointing me, but only for a moment as he moves both hands to the task, rapidly unbuttoning the top … then second … the third … and finally the last button, exposing the chemise. He starts to dive back down to pick up where he left off but I carefully pull his head back up.

“Wait, Johnathyn.”

He looks confused. “Wait? Alexia, you have not changed your …”

I touch a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry. They’re all yours. Give me a sec to catch up.” I slide my arms from the blouse, tossing it aside. His eyes are burning a hole in the damp cloth clinging to my breasts. I give him what I hope is a sultry smile and feel myself up a bit before reaching down to grab the hem of the chemise and slowly, sensuously pulling it over my head, dropping it on the floor of our wagon.

Johnathyn smiles broadly, reaching for my exposed boobs but I stop him again. “Not yet, Tiger. Were not equal yet.” I push myself up and forward, attacking his mouth with mine. French kissing with aggressive vigor. He doesn’t react right away but joins in on the fun within a couple of seconds. As we tongue wrestle for dominance, I quickly unbutton his shirt, push it up over his shoulders and pull it down, momentarily trapping his arms down around his waist. I pull back sharply, leaving him in mid pucker, then slowly run my hands across his broad shoulders, down his bulging biceps, over his muscled chest, finally stopping at his fully erect nipples, which I gently pinch and pull.

Johnathyn inhales sharply. “Alexia,” he hoarsely gasps, “what are you doing?”

I slide back up to his mouth and sweetly kiss him while still playing with both his nipples, then I repeat what he did, kissing down the chin, down the neck to the base but I continue on to the chest and eventually to his nipples, which I suck and nip in turn until I force a groan of pleasure mixed with lust from Johnathyn.

“I have never … no one had … Leeantha never …”

“Not a good thing to talk about your first wife when having sex with the second wife, Johnathyn.”

“I apologize … oooohhh, Alexia.”

I’d gone back to working on his nipples as he was apologizing, just to show we’re cool but now it’s time to get serious. I step back while reaching down to unbutton the waist of my skirt, then hook both thumbs over the waistband and push down, wriggling my hips free of my skirt, petticoat and underwear, pushing them all the way to the floor of the wagon before stepping out of the pile of clothes. Johnathyn moves towards me.

“One last thing, Johnathyn.”

“Alexia …”

“Hold on, Tiger. If we’re doing this, It’s gonna be on a soft bed not a wooden floor. Splinters in my ass are not sexy.”

I walk over to our pile of bedding and bend over, giving Johnathyn a good view of my naked bottom while gathering several quilts. I quickly lay them out in an open area and add several pillows, finally, I slowly settle down, resting on my back with pillows behind my head and the quilts bunched around me. It’s soft and warm … and I’m hot and ready.

“Now, Johnathyn,” I purr.

He reaches for his belt. “Are you certain? Nothing else?”

I wriggle deeper into the quilts and spread my legs ever so slightly. “Not a single thing … well, just you and your big friend.” He loosens his belt and unbuttons the fly, spreading the top of his pants so that they drop freely to the ground.

He’s not wearing underwear.

It’s just as big as I remember from the Miryian Waters. Just as big and beautiful. He drops to his knees as I spread my legs wider. He runs his hands up my legs to my thighs as he walks forward on his knees, settling them around my waist. His fully engorged dick is bobbing and swaying just inches from my increasingly wet pussy. He just stays there, smiling down at me.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask.

“You had your fun. I must have mine.”

“MY fun? You didn’t enjoy that? Because I swear that I heard …”

“You did. And you will again.” He falls forward, landing on his forearms on either side of me, his head level with mine. “We will when you are ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

“Convince me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you’ll catch on.”

He drops his mouth down to mine and we start kissing again but he soon slips back to my neck and down to my breasts.

It was worth the wait.

“Jeez, Tiger … awww God!”

His big hands and my big boobs are a perfect match. You’d think a guy who pounds iron for a living would have a pretty heavy touch but Johnathyn is tender, gentle but playful, licking, nipping, sucking and massaging with intensity. The sensations go up my spine to my brain and down to my crotch. After a few minutes of this, I can’t imagine being more ready.

“This is fun, Johnathyn but I’m ready for the main event.”

“Not yet.”

He reaches down with his right hand and starts to feel me up, sticking his index finger into and up my pussy while diddling my clit with his other fingers. He works his finger slowly in and out, gradually getting faster and adding fingers. By the time he works up to three fingers, I’m nearly delirious. I reluctantly reach down and stop his hand with mine.

“Why are you doing this, Johnathyn?”

“I do not wish to force myself upon you. Only if you want me.”

“Do you want me to beg?”

“No, you would not if I demanded it. Though it does make a man feel desired.”

I take the hand that he had been probing my pussy with, pull it to my mouth and suck on his fingers, licking my juices off it until it is clean.

“Johnathyn, I don’t know of any other way to prove it to you. I want you to take me as a Husband takes his Wife, not because it is our duty, not because we owe anyone anything but because I love you. If you love me, take me now.”

He slides up between my spread legs, guiding his hard dick with his right hand until the mushroom shaped head is nestled in the folds of my pussy.

“Always remember this, Alexia. I do love you and take you as my Wife. For now and forever.”

He pushes forward with his hips and I feel his wonderful cock slide in and up my wet vagina … and up … and up … and up until his balls make contact. He’s all in. It didn’t hurt at all. We just fit together, like a lock and key. I reach around his back with both hands, pulling him down on top of me, mashing my breasts into his chest as I bring my head next to his.

“Now and forever,” I whisper into his ear. Then we kiss as he begins to fuck me, moving in and out, driving with his hips. I always loved it when the woman I was fucking would show she was into it, not just leaving all the work to me. I wrap my legs around Johnathyn’s, pulling in rhythm with him.

I can feel the tension building, my muscles tensing, like a big spring in me getting tighter and tighter. I’m getting close to an orgasm but I’m not there yet. If only he would …

Harder … harder … just a little … aaahhh yeah, like that … oh that’s good! Just keep … yeeaaahhh! Oh Tiger … perfect. So good, so good, so nice, sooo gooood, ggooooodd , ooohhhhh GOD!

I actually see stars. My eyes are closed but lights swirl. My arms close tightly around his chest, my nails digging into his back as my body is wracked with muscle spasms. So different. So different. So good. Ooohhh, so good.

My grip on Johnathyn weakens, slowly falling back onto the quilts. Johnathyn goes up onto his knees, moving his hands to my hips, holding me in place as he keeps pounding away. Oh yeah … oh oh oh ohh yeaahh. Just like that you fucking stud!

He suddenly stops, pulling me tight to him as he pushes as deeply as he can. Then I feel his cock start to pulse, then spray his spunk into me. So different than being a guy. So erotic, so … sexy. He grunts a couple of times, the muscles in his arms bulging, trembling slightly, then he relaxes with a loud sigh, falling towards me but catches himself with one arm, rolling toward my right side, his rigid cock still lodged deep within me.

“I could hear you!” he gasps. “In my mind, I could actually hear you.”

What is he talking about? I’m still a little dazed and goofy from the experience. “Is that the presence thing they were talking about?”

Johnathyn settles in next to me, pulling some of the quilt over both of us.

“I do not know, having never met Opulessa before. It did help me know if I was satisfying you.” I turn my head towards him. He smiles shyly and taps his forehead. “You were very loud. Up here.”

Snaking my left arm up around his neck, I draw his unresisting head down to mine and we deeply kiss.

“What do you expect, you big Rogue? You really know how to treat a woman.”

“I do not. Leeantha and I often had problems. With you telling me, it was much easier.”

“What did I say about mentioning your first Wife?”

“I’m sorry but there was no other way to bring it up.”

He shifts his hips and his softening dick finally slips out of me. “Speaking of ‘up’, I think I can do a little something …” I wiggle the index finger of my right hand. “…and we can get right back in the saddle.”

Johnathyn grabs my right hand. “No. No magic. Not between us.”

“Why not? It’s no different than Viagra. You just have to know which buttons to push.”

“No Alexia. With magic, we would never know what is real. I need to feel I am on solid ground. I know who I love and why I love her. Magic can only harm that.”

“It could be fun.”

“Perhaps, but I will always try to make it fun for both of us.”

“What about this ‘presence’ thing? Isn’t that magic?”

“I don’t know. From what Dierdra and the others said, it seems now to be a part of you after we …”

“Fucked ourselves silly?”

“Not how I would have said it but I won’t argue the point with you.”

“No, you won’t, not with that big, shit eating grin you’re wearing. Supposedly I can control it, turning it on and off. We’ll see.”

“I won’t always need your guidance. Once I know your preferences, I will be mindful.”

“Same here. Let me show you something one of my old girlfriends used to do that I really liked.”

“What was it that you said about speaking of past relationships?”

“My situation is a little unique, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but … what are you …”

I push him over onto his back and quickly straddle his waist, keeping my hands on his chest.

“Be quiet. It’s my turn. Lean up.” I grab a pillow, reach around behind his head and stuff it behind his upper back. “That’s better. Now you make sure to let me know if any of this hurts.”

“I truly doubt that you could actually harm me by … OOWWW!”

I slide down his body just far enough to trap his dick between his pelvis and mine then I slide forward, dragging the lips of my pussy the length of his still sensitive dick. She often did this right after we had a knock out session of sex. My dick would get hard in minutes.

Though I was eighteen at the time and was sporting an erection or at least semi-hard most of the time.

Gina would slowly rock back and forth, masturbating me with the folds of her pussy, gradually getting faster while I worked over her boobs with my free hands. After several cycles with my hips, I finally get the hang of it. It’s tougher than I thought but Johnathyn’s groans tell me I’m on the right track. Pretty soon, I can feel him getting harder … and bigger.

“AAAhhh, there you are, Tiger! Now we’re in for some fun.”

“What is this ‘tiger’ thing you call me? At first, I thought yooouu, ohh myyyy … were calling ‘Tyber’ but now I can hear clearly.”

I keep up the pace on his cock. “Really? Was your attention elsewhere earlier?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Give me your hands.”

He lifts them towards me. I take each of his in one of mine and guide them to my dangling boobs. I hadn’t realized how responsive they were. His touch stops me for a few seconds, but I’m quickly back to work. His actions on my boobs tells if he’s enjoying himself.

Pretty sure he is. I sure as hell am. Time to up the ante.

His dick is nearly back to its original length and rigidity so I pause just long enough to guide its head with my hand to the opening of my vagina and slip it inside, then slide its entire delicious length in me.

Indescribable!

Johnathyn says nothing but groans and squeezes both my boobs with his large hands, adding to my pleasurable sensations. I return to rocking back and forth but mix in some left to right, some sharp thrusts and the occasional series of bounces, his hands staying glued to my tits the entire time. I lean forward, letting my breasts swing near his face. He takes the invitation and brings first one, then the other to his mouth, sucking, licking and nipping at my bullet hard nipples as I continue to ride his cock.

Exquisite!

It’s my turn to ride him hard now, adjusting my legs so that I can rise up until his cock is just inside my pussy then I drive down, impaling myself time and again, faster and faster. He finally releases my boobs and grabs my hips, driving up as I push down.

I think the entire wagon is bouncing. I didn’t notice it the first time. My attention must have been elsewhere.

The tightening sensation from last time returns but this time I fight it, trying to hold off, make it last. I want Johnathyn to join me this time. From the sound of his breathing and the look on his face, he’s close. He’s staring up at me, teeth gritted. I look down, smile and bring my hands to my boobs, holding them tightly to my chest as I pinch the nipples. His eyes fly wide open as he shoots up into me. I let go as the first spurt of semen splashes deep inside me.

It’s better than the first time. Much better.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I gave myself to him. Completely, totally, without reservation.

At the Miryian Waters, we were just fooling around and I was the one in control. Ever since I came to this universe, I’ve kept everyone, including Johnathyn, at arms length. Except Leeanna.

All my life, I’ve kept people at arms length. Family, friends, girlfriends, customers. But now, with a sleeping Johnathyn laying next to me, his right arm holding me possessively against his body I can’t deny that I let him in. He took but I gave first. I couldn’t be happier.

Before, I always took. Certainly with girlfriends or casual hook-ups, I took. It was never rape or anything like that, always consensual, but I took. Even if she was on top, I took. But not this time. This time, I surrendered to him. I may have been on top sometimes but it was all about what he needed, what he wanted. Johnathyn was generous, more than generous with his attention to my desires but that was his choice, not mine. I was his to do with what he wanted. I opened up and let him past my defenses. The joy was incredible. The sex was too but it was more than simply sex. It was intimacy.

I know what the word means and I thought I had experienced it before, many times in fact, but I was wrong. So wrong.

I run my hand lightly across his slowly rising and falling chest, letting it rest over his beating heart. He fell asleep almost immediately after his last orgasm, just as I did so many times as a man but I’m too jazzed to sleep right now. Was it this way for all the women and girls I slept with? Maybe. I did get a few complaints about a lack of post sex cuddling but that’s not what I’m feeling now. I wouldn’t reject it but I don’t need it.

It’s like my senses are opened wider, more aware of what is happening around me, what people feel. Even asleep, I know Johnathyn loves me and I also know he knows that I love him. There’s a mix of emotions coming from the house. Fear, anger, jealousy, worry, contentment … I don’t know which from whom but they are there. I can feel them, like they are physical things, things to be adjusted, changed, and manipulated.

They had been wrong, at least partially. It wasn’t the sex, it was the intimacy. In my case, the sex led to intimacy, breaking down the walls I had built but there had been other times before now, with both Leeanna and Gallinda. The time I spent inside Leeanna was short but intense, very emotional. She felt me, felt my love for her, my presence. Gallinda was different. With her, it was the length of time, over 25 cycles while I kept her eyes clear. It was at a much lower intensity than it had been with Leeanna but for a much longer period of time. At the end, she knew me. In both cases, it was a form of shared intimacy. That is what a presence is, an ability to project your feelings about someone to them, to connect with them on a nonverbal level. What makes it so powerful is the possibility of controlling those feelings and thereby manipulating that person. Right now, all I can do is project but I can do that in spades.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

I am usually the first one up in the morning. My mother always used to wake me before dawn to start my jobs on the farm. I have not done farm work for decades but old habits die hard.

I throw some logs into the kitchen stove and fan the embers from yesterday until the wood catches fire. By the time the others stumble in, it will be hot and ready for breakfast. Originally, we all prepared our own meals but Alexia insisted we start having communal meals, claiming it would help develop something she called “team spirit”. What ever that is. She also spoke of some activity she called “football” but the rules were too complex to comprehend and the level of violence very high. Fixing meals together was infinitely preferable.

Regardless, there did seem to be an increase in the sense of cooperation and shared objectives since we first joined forces, which is no small thing. Our existence as witches has been a solitary one up until now. Certainly we all knew about other witches, some even communicated, but there was safety in solitude. Everyone has taken a large risk simply by showing up together in one place. The concentration of magic could be noticed by someone with the right heritage. Like the Queen. Add Alexia to the group and it is no small miracle that we have not been detected yet. From here on out, the risks only get larger.

Or at least it seemed that way. After last night, I just don’t know.

Alexia insists that this be done with the minimum number of people getting hurt, let alone dying. She doesn’t ignore the possibility of physical injury but she refuses to accept any option where the possibility is high. No matter how hard I and the others try to explain that people die in revolutions, she says she knows that but not this time. “Not on her watch” she repeats. Killing those two guards affected her more than any of us can appreciate. None of us have ever killed anyone either, so we are at a loss on how to approach her.

Other than Beckwith, of course. She says we should do what we want and Alexia can either join us or step aside. Bold but impractical, particularly coming from the witch who is the farthest in the group from being a “team player”.

We had the bones of a good plan that simply needed fleshing out until Alexia’s inability to mimic Opulessa thwarted it. I knew from the beginning it would be difficult but hadn’t realized how completely inadequate Alexia would be. She made as good an attempt as any of us could but facts are facts. It was like looking at a perfect statue of a person. It could fool you only for a moment or two. After that ….

What made the entire thing worse was Beckwith’s gloating. She had opposed the plan from day one. She had opposed any plan except hers, which is basically to lay waste to the Palace with all our combined powers, including killing the Queen. What happens after that is unclear in her plan but I strongly suspect that Beckwith feels that she can become the first among equals after Alexia returns home.

Alexia seemed so defeated last night. Defeated and angry. An angry Alexia is dangerous to be around. Her head tells her to not injure people but her heart holds much emotion. Sometimes the heart wins out. I can remember that enormous tree being ripped from the ground, flying directly towards me, towards all of us. It was by sheer luck that I only broke a few bones. The others saw it too. We all respect Alexia, many admire her except for Beckwith. We all, including Beckwith, fear her. At least fear what she might do if pushed too far. I would have followed her and attempted to console her last night but thought the better of it. A little time to cool off would be best for all.

I don’t know why Johnathyn takes the risk of being so near her. Well, actually I do. Most men would risk a lot to have a chance with a woman who looks like Alexia but most would also think twice if they knew that woman could decapitate them with a simple waive of her hand. Johnathyn not only knows, he saw it happen. Yet he remains near her. It is more than simple dedication to the cause. He loves her. We all can see it but Alexia doesn’t. Or she refuses to acknowledge it because she doesn’t want to deal with it. Or knows how to deal with it.

Beckwith walks into the kitchen, head high and a light step, moving with a purpose.

“Good morning, Dierdra.”

“Good morning to you, Beckwith. You’re up early.”

“We have much to do and not much time to do it. We need to start work on determining the weaknesses of the Palace defenders and the best way to force entry.”

“We could all fly over the wall. Oh, wait, you can’t do that, can you?”

“No,” she answers sullenly.

“Then I would not be so quick to throw out what we have agreed to already.”

“It is hopeless to think that this can be done bloodlessly, Denson. The original plan was hopeless, as is any plan that does not take the direct approach. We find the weakest point and attack it. Simple. Direct.”

“And wrong. Even if Alexia cannot fool the Winthrop Group’s guards, there are other options that can …” I notice a change in the feel of the room. It feels lighter, brighter, more like a spring morning. The air is fresher, the birds louder, I think I may actually smell flowers. Beckwith notices it also.

“What is this?” she asks, looking about the kitchen.

“Good morning, Ladies!” exclaims Alexia. She pauses at the doorway, smiling as broadly as I can ever remember, her face so bright it is as if she actually lights the kitchen before her. “Isn’t this just the most beautiful morning you’ve ever seen?” She glides into the room, not waiting for either of us to answer her. Three plates fly off the plate rail on the West wall, landing softly and silently on the table before us. Three apples rise up out of a bowl near the window, smoothly cross the room and split up with each one hovering over a plate for a milicycle or two before falling onto the plate in sharp slices. Alexia daintily picks up a piece from the plate nearest her and takes several nibbles. “I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse. You don’t actually eat horses, do you? Because that’s just a saying on my world, though some cultures do eat horses. Personally, I can’t see it but to each his own, right? Guess it’s kinda don’t knock it until you try it, but still, it’s a horse.”

Beckwith and I look at each other before she says anything.

“What is going on?” she demands.

“Guess,” Alexia answers, still smiling.

“Is this some kind of …” she begins.

I interrupt her. “Where is Tyber?”

“That is a very astute and pertinent question, my dear Dierdra. He is still sleeping in the wagon. I thought it best not to wake him. We didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. He earned his rest.” Alexia leaned over and nudged Beckwith with her elbow twice. “He really did earn his rest.”

“And you?” I ask, already suspecting the answer.

“Full of energy and light as a feather. I think I could fly around the world a couple of times before breakfast, if I wasn’t so darn hungry. This world could really use an all you can eat brunch. With Mimosas. There is this place, lower East side of Manhattan. We called it the ‘Hungry Heifer’, don’t remember its real name. Doesn’t matter. Tommy, Frank and I would go in on a Sunday morning after being out all night Saturday and just shut the place down. The beauty was they had to go to work bright and early Monday morning but I could crash and recover. Whatever. There was this …”

“Has she been drinking Klatch?” asks Beckwith.

“No,” I answer. “Alexia and Tyber had relations last night. This is her Presence we are feeling.”

“Damn straight!” Alexia declares. “We screwed like a couple of rabbits until Johnathyn needed a break. Honestly, I didn’t mind taking five myself, what with daylight coming and all. Though, now I’m having second thoughts about it. The break that is. Not the screwing.”

“HER Presence?” Beckwith asks, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Yeah, MY Presence. Tell Opulessa to put that in her pipe and smoke it.”

“You still won’t fool anyone. This is … completely different compared to the Queen!”

Beckwith tries to sound certain of herself but I catch the echo of doubt in her words.

“They are not that different and the differences are in our favor,” I say. “We need only fool them for a brief time. Alexia can be a more appealing Opulessa than Opulessa herself. No one will question it.”

“Why would they not? We cannot rely on this deceit to succeed. The only reasonable course is to …”

Alexia reaches out, lightly touching Beckwith on the shoulder, the feeling of the room turning slightly darker, colder, sharper.

“My dearest Beckwith. We have done what needed to be done. Johnathyn and I should probably thank you for that final push. We’re no longer arguing the point. When everyone comes in for breakfast, there’s going to be a vote. Those who support Dierdra and I will stay and we’ll take our shot our way. Those that support you and your plan can leave and take your shot if we fail. That’s the way it’s going to be. I suspect that, since your plan requires the combined power of all of us to attack Opulessa, the fact that at least Dierdra and I refuse to go that way pretty much dooms your plan, so it’ll come down to our plan or nothing. That’s your choice. You’re either in or you’re out.” I swear that the temperature in the room becomes much colder as Alexia draws Beckwith closer. “So, what’s it gonna be my dear … friend?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Nothing?! Absolutely NOTHING?!”

“Unfortunately, Mr. White, that is true but only temporary. I am certain that my men will find the witch, sooner or later.”

Be diplomatic. Always diplomatic. “First Minister. I would be the last person to question the capabilities of your security forces but someone with this woman’s abilities could be beyond the scope of their training.”

“These are the best men in my country, Mr. White. The Queen may demand that Colonel Willis and his people provide all security within the walls of the Palace but the world outside these walls is a completely different place. They have no experience in dealing with the common men of this world. They may be able to offer their advice but only my
men know how to, as you say, get the job done.”

What I would like to tell this windbag and what I will tell him are two different things. Probably why my predecessor developed ulcers. “I understand completely, First Minister. Very valid points. Colonel Willis has his hands full with Palace security, though you must admit that his specialists were very helpful in getting information from your recent group of prisoners.”

“I heard what they did. Is that the only use for … what was it called?”

“I believe you are referring to electricity. No, there are many uses for electricity but interrogation is one of the better ones. My point is that Colonel Willis has resources not available to you or your men. In addition, the witch was recruited from my world. Colonel Willis may have a better understanding of how she thinks.”

“She is working with people from my world.”

“As will Colonel Willis. A group effort that benefits us all.”

Dupree leans back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, his fingers steepled. He looks at me over the tips of those fingers.

“There are those among us who feel that we already cede too much control to your world, Mr. White, that you ignore our time honored ways and traditions, that your mere presence, let alone authority, on our world is corrupting our society in ways both large and small.”

I can hear past the words to the high pitched sound of someone sliding stone against metal, sharpening the blade of the knife so that he might cut himself a bigger slice of the pie.

“Surely you are not of that opinion, First Minister. Both you and your entire council have benefited both directly and indirectly from the Consortium’s generosity in the past. There is no reason you all won’t continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Unless there is some change in the status quo.”

“What is a ‘status quo’?”

“My apologies, First Minister. Our languages are so similar that I often forget the few differences. Status quo means the existing state of things, the current situation, the way things are right now.”

“The unrocked boat.”

“Exactly, First Minister! The unrocked boat! If the passengers rock the boat too much, it will overturn, throwing them into the water where they all drown. A very undesirable result.”

“Not all passengers may fall into the water. Some may keep hold of the boat. Some may be able to swim and not drown. Not all the passengers may die, Mr. White.”

“Quite true, First Minister, but all would be better off if they were still safe and warm in the boat.”

“It depends on where the boat is heading, Mr. White.”

“You could be right about that, First Minister. Some might be better off waiting for another boat to come by.”

“What if there is only one boat on which to buy passage?”

“There is always another boat, First Minister, for those with enough money. Even if they have to build that boat themselves.”

Dupree blanches slightly. “That – that seems like a lot of bother, Mr. White, when there is a perfectly good boat available.”

I spread my hands and smile. “My original point exactly, First Minister Dupree! The Consortium supports the status quo and catching this witch as quickly as possible helps preserve it. My employers detest surprises and wish nothing more than to return to those simple days of prior years before all this revolution nonsense reared its ugly head. Then I can count on you being receptive to Colonel Willis and his people assisting your excellent security forces in their hunt for the rogue witch?”

Dupree looks away and sighs lightly, broken but only for the moment. Eventually he’ll be back, demanding more money, more resources, more help, more of everything but not today. Today, I win. He glances back towards me.

“Certainly, Mr. White. My men will be happy to accept any useful advice Colonel Willis has to offer.”

Good enough for now, though there is one other thing.

“Happy to hear it, First Minister. We’ve made good progress today. I’m certain that you’ll get this witch problem wrapped up in no time at all. I did have one question though. Maybe it’s more of a clarification, just to make sure we’re not having one of those pesky communication problems. When you talk about your ‘men’ doing this or that in trying to locate the rogue witch, is it just ‘men’ in these groups or are women also involved in the investigations?”

“Women? In the security forces? Are you mad, White?”

“I see. So how do you investigate women’s involvement with the rebels? Undercover agents? Spies? Informants?”

“WE do not bother ourselves with the thoughts of women in this area. Revolution and revolt do not concern them. They have houses and children and husbands to care for. There is no time for frivolities. They do not have the mental capacity to even consider such things.”

Does he remember who he’s talking to? Which sex I am? Who he’s pursuing?”

“Excuse me, First Minister, the witch is a woman.”

“Yes, but she was first a man and she disappeared with another man, Miran Pegues. We assume that it is actually Pegues who is the leader here. Find Pegues, we find the witch. Pegues is a very clever fellow.”

“Do your men actually interrogate women as part of this search for Pegues?”

“No. What would women know about such things?”

The buffoon. “I wouldn’t know, First Minister. It’s not an area of expertise for me. I know that you’re a busy man so I’ll leave you to your work.” I stand and pick up my coat. “I’ll stop by Colonel Willis’s office for a quick visit before catching the stage back to our compound.”

Dupree dismisses me with a wave of his hand. “Do as you wish, Mr. White.”

I bow slightly. “Thank you First Minister. I’ll do just that.” As I leave, Dupree’s secretary, Dilgar Rachet, enters the room with a handful of papers. It only takes me a few minutes to reach Willis’s office. He’s in because I can smell the stench of one of his cigars. I rush past his aide who does nothing to stop me from entering Willis’s office.
.
“Thomas, I need to speak with you.” I push his door shut behind me, latching it. “Privately.”

He takes a final drag on the stub of a stogie clenched between his teeth, removes it from his mouth, stubbing it out in an almost full ashtray sitting on the corner of his desk.

“What about, Don?”

“I’ve convinced Dupree to use you and your people more in the search for Alex Thompson. I think you’ll want to concentrate on questioning women. That moron Dupree acts like they don’t have a conspiratorial brain cell in their heads. Both you and I know better.”

Willis opens a desk drawer, pulls out another cigar, unwraps it, bites off the end, which he spits into a trash can next to the desk with practiced expertise. After lighting it, he takes a long pull and blows the smoke towards the ceiling.

“I don’t think we need to worry about that, Don. The Queen’s got it all covered.”

“The Queen? What the hell is she doing about it?”

“I can’t say. Sorry, but you don’t have to lean on Dupree about it.”

“Look Willis, you work for me. More exactly, you work for the Winthrop Group and the Consortium has hired them for this job. I represent the Consortium; ergo you do what I tell you. You don’t have any secrets from me, at least not business related, so what the hell is going on?”

He sends another long stream of smoke floating towards the ceiling. “My job description gives me the authority to do what I feel needs to be done to accomplish the objectives. You set the objectives but I determine what my men do to get there. If that means I don’t tell you certain things, so be it. You don’t like that, take it up with corporate.”

“Tom … you haven’t been drinking the Kool Aid, have you? Gone a little native? Because, if you have, I’ll have your ass rotated out of here so fast your new dick won’t know what hit it.”

“Big talk from a pencil pusher. It’s me and my boys who keep the peace around here, peace that keeps all those EPA exempt mines running 24/7 … or should I say 20/7? Either way, I think you’re a lot more replaceable than I am.”

“Neither of us is staying here, Willis. We all go home eventually.”

“We’ll see about that. For now, all you need to know is that the Queen’s got this handled and, if we leave her alone to do it her way, you’ll soon be back making money hand over fist with nothin’ to worry about. If you want to confirm that, I’ll take you up to see her myself.”

No thank you very much. That woman gives me the willies, big time. It’s the way she looks at me, like I’m here strictly for her amusement. I know she dotes on Willis and his people, exactly why I couldn’t say. She knows we were all women back on the other side, which makes us all pretty exotic creatures on this side. Dupree still isn’t exactly comfortable dealing with me but we manage to make it work.

Most of the time.

Unfortunately, Willis has me over a bit of a barrel. There’s only two other Consortium reps on this side and they’re both at the mines. Everyone else stationed at the compound are Winthrop people, commanded by Willis. From what I can tell, they’re all very loyal to him. There’s a damn good chance that if I tried to get a message to headquarters about him, the message would never get sent. I don’t have a way to get to the communications room and send a message on my own, assuming I could figure out how to do it. I’m pretty much at his mercy until the next regular report is due, almost a week from today. That report is encrypted so it should get through without hindrance. In addition, I’d have to have a hell of a lot more than just suspicion in order to get Willis prematurely rotated home. I may not be able to tell him how to do it but I can give him a new objective.

“Your people are still going on patrol with the local security forces, is that right, Willis?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Then here’s a new assignment for your men. I want them to start talking with the local women.”

He gives me a leering smile. “They already do that, White. Sometimes they do a hell of a lot more than talk.”

“That’s not what I mean, Colonel. I’ve discovered that First Minister Dupree doesn’t feel the female sex is worthy of being interrogated concerning our rebel problems. He thinks they’re too simple, too stupid to be of any value. Both you and I know otherwise. I am officially directing your troops to interrogate any suspicious women they encounter while assisting the local security forces and that they are to submit written reports to me outlining the results of these interrogations. This policy begins immediately!”

Willis gives me a sloppy salute while seated in his chair. “Sure thing, Mr. White. I’ll tell them to get right on it.”

“You do that, Colonel. I’m serious about this. I suspect we have a rebellion led by a woman against a woman that you seem to have a great deal of respect for. You can’t tell me that other women can’t be involved or know something. And no matter what the Queen has told you, we both know you’re smart enough to recognize that having more good information is better than having less. Am I right about that?”

He stares at me for a few seconds, chewing on that damn cigar, then pulls it from his mouth. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll tell my people to be on the alert.”

“Thank you, Colonel Willis. I appreciate your cooperation as do my superiors. Let’s hope this problem is resolved as quickly as possible.”

As I leave his office, I can’t shake the feeling that we are headed for some kind of catastrophic confrontation before this is done.

* * * **** * * * *** * * *

I brought everyone together for a brainstorming session. We have most everything worked out but I want it all reviewed one last time to look for kinks or problems. Beckwith has been mostly quiet the entire meeting. Usually she’s full of objections and reasons why this or that won’t work but she’s actually trying to sell everyone on a direct attack. Since the vote last morning, she’s pretty much shut up, though I can tell it’s killing her.

Good.

I start to run through my checklist.

“We’ve got the timeline worked out. Johnathyn and I go in first and take care of the Winthrop guards. We continue into the Palace and I drop in on the Queen in the courtyard. While we fight, the rest of you take care of your jobs. Dierdra coordinates and helps with the medical. Silva, Pamela and Olga are the rest of the medical. Sarah, Bellah, Correia and Leila are on the weather team. Beckwith, Britanna, Steinvild and Emlilly are security. When the fight starts, there should be plenty of magic to go around, what with two Seventy Seven witches in the house plus the twelve of you. Don’t spare any of that juice, go at it as hard as you can. I need that cold front brought down from the North and Opulessa should be hard pressed to keep the warm front in place because I plan on drawing all her attention. We don’t know all of the things that she keeps going with her magic but they should all start to fail as she concentrates more of her power on me and less on everything else. Be prepared for some surprises but do your jobs, ladies.”

All their eyes are glued to me so I continue.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I don’t want anyone to die. This is my bottom line. That means Security has a tougher job but it will make the chance of long term success better. It also means that Medical keeps any injured people alive until I can get to them. If you guys can fix them, all the better but I’ll get there as soon as I take care of the Queen. If one area is going well and you’ve got extra help, switch to what ever area needs help. That’ll be Dierdra’s call.”

She nods her head, smiling at me. I give her a thumbs up.

“Leila is in charge of Weather and Beckwith has Security but Dierdra has Medical and also overall mission control. Whatever she says goes. There won’t be a lot of time for discussion so she’s in charge. If it all goes to hell, she decides on when you pull out. If she says ‘Bug Out’, you all take to the air and get the hell out of Dodge. We’ll try to rendezvous back here but don’t take direct routes. Scout the place out before landing. The main thing is, don’t come looking for me. If this fails, take care of yourselves. Most of you have families who need you alive and free. I don’t.”

Several of the girls look over at Johnathyn but he doesn’t react. We’ve talked about this. He understands why I’m saying this and he agrees. Beckwith slowly stands up. Oh. Crap.

“It would be good if we could do something to get as many of the outside guards in one place. They would be easier to control.”

“You mean, like a diversion?”

“What ever you wish to call it.”

“That’s not a bad idea. It could draw both guards outside the Palace and people in the Palace away from the courtyard, fewer people around when Opulessa and I throw down, fewer people in the line of fire. What could we do? A fire?”

“No,” says Johnathyn, “it would take too long. You need something that declares itself immediately. An explosion.”

“Of what?” asks Dierdra.

“Gun powder?” he suggests.

“We want a diversion, not a disaster,” I say.

“Agreed,” adds Beckwith. “Also, you know that the government strictly controls the sale of gun powder. How would we get enough?”

“Perhaps you could make it?” he says.

“How would we do that?” she asks.

He wiggles his fingers. “Magic.”

“Not magic, at least not directly,” I say. “And not gun powder either.” I pat my laptop, which is on the table in front of me. “I’ve got a PDF of ‘The Anarchist Cookbook’ on here. It’s full of recipes for all kinds of explosives made from common household items … well, common from where I come from. There’s one for diesel fuel and fertilizer. A substitute for diesel fuel can be made from the barrels of tar in the barn and we can make fertilizer from horse manure. Zaphod knows we’ve got enough of that around. The yield won’t be as good but that’s okay. We’re just trying to draw attention, not blow up a building. Problem is that we’ll need several barrels of the stuff to do any good. How do we get it there?”

“By horse and wagon,” says Johnathyn.

“Wait a minute. Do you mean our wagon?”

“Yes, Alexia, our horses and wagon.”

“Johnathyn, that’s our home! We’ve lived in that wagon almost our entire lives! Yes, I know, not your entire life and not mine either but, since I became … since I got here … since we started … it’s been our home, Johnathyn.”

“I understand, Alexia, I agree but, as you have said, if we succeed, you are returning to your world and if we do not succeed, the wagon is much too slow for us to use to flee. Either way, we are done with it. Besides, if you leave, I do not believe I could ever bring myself to use it again. It would be too painful.”

He’s right, of course. Why does he have to be so logical and right? Looking over at him, I can see this whole thing is killing him, though he’s putting up a brave face. What about Leeanna? This entire thing sucks!

“Alright, fine. We’ll do it your way but we can’t get too close to the Palace wall and people will have to be moved away before the blast.

Beckwith nods her head, a tight grin below bright eyes. “It will be done.” This is more like what she’s been after from day one. Maybe I should find out what pissed her off in the first place.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

The farmhouse had a good larder so we found enough materials in the house, barn or root cellar to put together five barrels of the oil/fertilizer mix. We decided to add several barrels of flour to the load at Beckwith’s suggestion. It will make the wagon fuller, appearing less suspicious, and create a kind of smoke screen after the explosion, keeping the enemy confused. It had been several hours of magic driven chemistry and I was bushed. With the wagon a loaded bomb, Johnathyn and I were going to sleep in the main room of the house, which means we were just going to sleep tonight. Probably a good thing, because we hadn’t been doing a lot of actual sleeping lately. Dierdra had taken Leeanna overnight in her room the last couple of nights to give us some privacy, though I think most everyone was well aware of exactly what we were doing.

They are witches, after all.

From the looks we got in the mornings, it had been an education for some of them. Happy to be of service. Very happy.

We moved some of the furniture around and threw the bedding on the floor in front of the hearth. The stone was still warm from the day’s fire, the remains of which were smoldering before us, embers still glowing under a light dusting of ash which shifted gently as the wind blew outside. This would have been damn romantic under other circumstances.

It wasn’t long before Johnathyn was quietly snoring, his right arm draped over my shoulder. Unfortunately, I can’t get my mind to slow down. I keep replaying our plans, looking for weaknesses, running different scenarios. After an hour, I decide to get up and take a walk, clear my head. I slide away from Johnathyn’s arm, get dressed and silently walk through the kitchen and out the back door.

The moon is full in a cloudless sky but the temp is still unseasonably warm. How much does it cost Opulessa to keep it this way for her month long birthday party? If it was me, I’d move to Florida for the month if it was heat that I wanted. There’s someone sitting on the bench by the well, smoking a long, thin pipe. It’s Beckwith. She looks up as I amble towards her, my feet swishing through the grass.

“I didn’t know you smoked. It’s not good for your health.”

“It’s my health. I’ll do as I please.”

“I’ve done a bit of smoking in my time, something a little stronger than tobacco. You got Marijuana in this word? Cannabis? Hemp?”

She takes a draw on her pipe and slowly exhales. “Don’t know”

“If you did, you’d know it. There’s probably something else like it. If there’s one thing consistent between our two worlds, it’s man’s eternal quest to get high.”

“Just men?”

“No. I was speaking philosophically. I was referring to mankind. Everybody. Both men and women.”

“Then why do you say ‘Man’-kind?”

“It’s just how we say it on my world. You got a better way?”

She takes another deliberate pull on the pipe and an equally deliberate exhale. That’s a nice tool to slow a conversation. Too bad it’ll eventually kill ya’.

“No. I do not have any better ideas.”

I start to sit down next to here but she slides as far away as she can without leaving the bench. I sit down anyway.

“You’re just a veritable fountain of conversation tonight, Beckwith. So why aren’t you sound asleep, dreaming of slaughtering the Queen’s Guard.”

“Because I was asleep, dreaming of slaughtering the Queen’s Guard.”

“I was joking.”

“I was not.”

“What is it with you? You’ve been fighting me the whole way but you don’t leave. You’d lead the others into almost suicidal attacks to take out as many of them before you get killed. What’s your problem?”

She takes another slow drag on her pipe. “With you or what you are doing?”

“Any of it. All of it. Whatever.”

“I object to an outsider coming in to ‘save’ my people from ourselves. It is none of your concern.”

“Seems to me that ‘outsiders’ have caused a lot of these problems. Why can’t I fix problems created by my people in your world?”

“Because the injuries occurred before you all arrived.”

“Then why didn’t your people take care of it already? Why didn’t you?”

“That is our shame. My shame.”

“Then now seems like a good chance to fix the problems, what with me being here and all.”

I hear her inhale on the pipe again, its small bowl glowing brightly for a milicycle or two.

“It is a good chance, the only one in my lifetime that could succeed but your presence is a daily reminder of my shame for failing to act before now. I should have done something a long time ago, success be damned.”

“That’s stupid! No one jumps into a burning fire if there’s no chance of putting it out. It’s only logical.”

“I know some of how you came to be here. You told Dierdra and she told me. Pegues tricked you into crossing over and you had a means of forcing him to return you to your world but you decided to stay. Why was that?”

“People from my world are doing terrible things here. Someone has to stop them and I can do it.”

“You lie. I know the truth. You cared not for those things. You cared that your mother and brother had been killed and the people responsible were here. That is why you stayed. That is why you came to Glory. To avenge their deaths. There was no plan, no chance of success yet you came any way.”

“Okay, you’re right. It was a straight vengeance trip but there’s a lot of other reasons now.”

“Agreed, yet you are returning to your world to finish taking vengeance when you are done, are you not?”

“Look … yeah, I am but there’s a bunch of good reasons for me to leave. I could really screw up this world if I stay.”

“Do not misunderstand me. I wish that you leave my world as soon as possible. Leave your husband and daughter and return home to kill those who killed your family. It is most admirable! You also leave behind all this power to become an ordinary person but you still seek justice for the dead. Very admirable indeed!”

I don’t know if she’s putting me on, mocking me or what. Lately, I’ve been thinking about what a crappy thing it is to leave Johnathyn and Lee after all we’ve been through, all we’ve said to one another, all I’ve promised. I’ve always tried to be upfront about it all but facts are facts. Things are different now. Way different.

“Listen Beckwith, things have changed since I got here. I didn’t plan on a lot of this happening.”

“Exactly! You had no plan but you came anyway to make certain that those who took your family from you paid for their sins! And look at where you are now! In a few hours, retribution begins!”

“I wouldn’t exactly put it that way.”

“Do you know my history?”

I really didn’t. I knew a lot more about the other girls. We talked a lot when fixing meals and cleaning up. Everybody took turns. Naturally, I got most of the questions but, eventually, everyone told their stories. Everyone except Beckwith. I did know some stuff, mostly from what Dierdra told me.

“You’re originally from some place north, right?”

She leans back and puffs several times before answering.

“Yes. North. A large village but nothing like one of the cities near here. We lived our own lives. The Queen left us mostly alone. Our region had little that she desired. We paid our taxes and her stooges left us alone for the most part.”

“I thought that Opulessa was the one who was manipulated by the men at the top.”

“Do not believe that for a moment! She may prefer to let them have their way day in and day out but she can control them when she wishes. When it suits her needs. Ten years ago, it suited her needs.”

That didn’t sound good. “What happened ten years ago?”

She tapped out her pipe, pulled a small pouch from her pocket and opened it. I could smell the raw tobacco. One of the professors I had in school smoked a pipe. He’d take it outside the building and light up, leaving a smoky haze all around him. His tobacco smelled something like that, though a bit more refined. She reloaded the bowl, rubbed her fingers together over the bowl until it lit. Puffing hard to get it going, she exhaled a long stream of smoke which wrapped around her head several times before fading away

“Ten years ago, I was married to a good man and had two daughters. Beautiful, smart girls. Kind and gentle, better than I. They took after their father in temperament. We both knew there was a risk. I am a Forty Five. We’re not permitted to have female children, all part of the Queen’s plan to keep potential rivals from being born. However, her influence is less in the Northern Provinces and we thought we were safe.” She taps the bowl of the pipe against the bench, embers briefly flashing in the night. “We were wrong.”

“Beckwith, what happened?”

“The troops came, the vaunted Queen’s Guard. It was a crackdown, a show of force and her authority over the rest of us. We had been warned and fled to the Great Woods but were tracked down. They killed my beautiful girls while I watched. I could do nothing. I was a Healer, not a fighter but it would have made no difference. My husband fought but was wounded. He lived five painful days before finally dying.” She looked over at me. “You would have likely cured him in decicycles. I buried them all together in a forest clearing and came south to avenge their deaths.”

I feel physically sick. Mom and Terry were killed but I didn’t have to watch it happen.

“That’s horrible. Horrible. I’m sorry, I – I didn’t know.”

“No one else does, not even Dierdra knows the full story. I came south to learn how to become stronger, more powerful and be closer to my prey. Every day I dedicated a portion to prepare for the opportunity to make Opulessa and her Guards pay for what they did to my family.”

“And now you’re going to make it happen. I understand …”

“NO! You do not!”

“Huuhh?”

“I have done NOTHING! Ten years and I was no closer to vengeance than I was the day I arrived! No plan, no plot, no army. Yet you, a complete outsider, arrive in this world and in a few months have raised an army of witches and persuaded them to do your bidding!”

“What can I say? I’m a people person. It doesn’t matter how it happens, what’s important is that it’s going to finally happen.”

“It will not. These men deserve to die for what they did but you forbid it! They killed your family yet you are more interested in their welfare than your own! From what little I know of your world, it is more violent than mine! I just do not understand you!”

How do I explain this? I’m not sure I understand it myself. Part of me still wants the guilty to pay with their lives but not everyone on the other side deserves to die. Some may. People who go around killing little girls in cold blood probably do.

“Do you know the names of the men who actually killed your daughters?”

“No but their faces are burned in my memory.”

“So, you would recognize them today, even after ten years?”

“There is no doubt.”

“Are they the ones you want to kill?”

“Them and all their cohorts!”

“The entire Queen’s Guard? That’s, what … a thousand, two thousand, five thousand men?”

“However many there are and Opulessa too.”

“But they may not have done anything wrong. Obviously Opulessa is a different case but ninety percent of the Guard may have done nothing but stand around, scratching their asses.”

“They are all guilty.”

“It’s been ten years, what about the men who joined after your daughters were killed? What about the men who used to be in the Guard but quit or retired? Do they all deserve to die because of the actions of a few? Are you going to track them all down, everybody who’s ever been in the Queen’s Guard? ”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you’re drawing a line somewhere. Men on one side are guilty and those on the other side are not. You better think pretty hard before you draw that line.”

“What do you care about these men? In a few hours, they will be trying to stop us from getting to Opulessa. They will be trying to kill you, to kill me. They deserve what they get!”

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t care about them. Maybe I care about you. Have you ever killed someone, Beckwith?”

“I have not but I am prepared to do so.”

“I wasn’t prepared when I did. It still haunts me. I try to think of other ways I could have handled it.”

“Have you thought of any?”

“No, not really, but that doesn’t lessen the guilt. I don’t really know you, Beckwith. I’m sorry about that. I’m also sorry about what happened to your family. It clearly sucks big time. Maybe you’re entitled to get some of your own when you find the guys who actually did it but, right now, my orders still stand. We do this with a minimum loss of life. You get a bunch of Guards shooting at you, break their hands. Bones will heal. Just don’t start killing recklessly. When this is all over, we can start looking through records, talk to people, find out the truth, separate the innocent from the guilty and I’m not talking about guilt by association. I’m talking about men who actually did something. Men that had something to do with killing my family or killing yours. When we find them, we’ll see about it then. Do you understand me?”

She takes the pipe from her lips, turns the bowl upside down and knocks the few remaining embers out onto the dirt in front of the bench. She stands, grinding them out with her right foot

“I understand, Alexia.”

I stand up too. “It’ll be daylight soon. We both need our sleep. Everybody needs to be rested and ready, on the ball and on the go. We can’t afford any slip ups, not now.”

“We all know what we are to do. If we do not win, it will all be for naught. None of us want that. This is our only chance.” She slips the pipe into her pocket. “I will not waste it.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I have forgotten how to sleep.

How long has it been? At least two hundred years. I truly can’t remember the last time I closed my eyes and slept. Fully, completely, slept.

Every night, I put myself in a trance. Most of my mind relaxes but a small portion remains alert, aware of what is happening in the world around me, keeping all those spells of mine active and alive. If I should lose consciousness for even a moment, they would all end, releasing those I have enchanted from their bondage.

But that can all change. When I capture the other witch, Alexia, my power becomes so much greater that so little of my mind will need to remain awake that it will almost be the same as sleeping. And that moment is coming closer every day.

Today, when I force my way to awareness, I can feel the increase in the magic potential around me. Any time there is a large gathering of believers in one place, the magic potential increases but it is more than that today. There is a slow, steady increase, not the waves that radiate from a crowd. This is like a rising tide, slow and inexorable, a force of nature. This witch approaches.

I must be ready to greet her.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The others flew in pairs to spots near Glory. Dierdra gave Beckwith a ride. Johnathyn insisted on driving the wagon so I went with him. Leeanna demanded to come along. She said that she had been there for everything else so she should be there at the end.

Not a bad argument for a ten year old. Johnathyn and I said not a chance in Hell. She stays at the farmhouse with the Ahlivars, the couple who own it, until we come and get her. I think she’s mostly afraid of being left alone. I’d tell her not to worry, that it won’t happen but she’s too smart for that bullshit. In the end, we tell her that we love her more than anything else in the world and knowing that she’s safe gives us the strength to do what needs to be done so that we can all be together again. I conveniently leave out the part about me going home as soon as we’re done. She says she understands and desperately hugs us both until we have to leave. I warn Fiona Ahlivar to watch her like a hawk because she’ll find some way to come after us.

It’s a quiet ride to Glory. It’s not that far away but, when you’re riding in a wagon with explosives of uncertain stability, you feel every bump in the road. Despite that, I find myself reminiscing about all the places we’ve seen, all the people we’ve met since we began this road trip. I snuggle up against Johnathyn, snaking an arm around his waist.

“What a long, strange trip it’s been.”

“To what are you referring?”

“All the places we’ve been. New Amsterdam, Goshen, Shellcrest, Winstead, Rockland, the Miryian Waters, Hampsted, Sweetwater. All those places, all those people. The ones I cured.”

“You enjoyed that, the healing. There were times I almost had to drag you away.”

“I’d like to see you try, Tiger.”

“There, you said it again. What is this ‘Tiger’?”

I pick up his left arm and drape it around my shoulder, allowing me to snuggle closer. “A tiger is a big cat, really big, like over four hundred pounds, which is like twenty stone. The females do the hunting and child care. The males lay about, not doing much but fighting over the females and having sex.”

“Sounds like an ideal life.”

“For you maybe. Did I mention that a single male tiger can have several mates at the same time?”

“You did not. This ‘Tiger’ thing seems to be a very good idea. How does one join?”

“Funny. They’re an endangered species in my world.”

“Do the females kill the males in the night?”

“You could be on to something there. I’ll have to check on … WHOA SHIT!!”

We hit a big bump, causing the barrels to knock against each other despite the padding between them. Neither of us breathes for several milicycles, then exhale in unison.

“Whose bright idea was this?” I ask quietly.

“I believe it was yours.”

“Remind me to shut up next time.”

He pulls me closer. “I will gladly do so. As I was saying, you enjoyed the healing.”

“I did. I really did. It was doing good. Real, honest to Zaphod good. One on one, in your face good.”

“When this is all done, you could stay and continue doing good.”

“Honey. Please don’t go there. We’ve talked about this. I can’t stay. This isn’t my world. Even if I ignored what I need to do back in my world, I know way too much to stay in your world. I’m a ticking time bomb of too much information.”

“You would not need to tell what you know.”

“Johnathyn, have you EVER known me to keep my mouth shut? If I see something that pisses me off, I’m gonna do something about it. There’s a whole lot about your world that pisses me off. I know it’s not my job or even my place to fix your world because who says I won’t screw it up, but I just can’t stand around and do nothing. Trust me, you’ll all be better off when I’m gone.”

“Leeanna won’t. I won’t.”

“You don’t think I know that? It’ll kill me too! I’ll never have the kinds of relationships over there that I have here. Please believe me, if I thought I could stay and not tear your world apart, I would. Could we talk about something else … for both our sakes?”

“As you wish.”

Neither of us said anything for quite some time. We just drove on, lost in our own thoughts, gradually drawing closer to the city. We crossed into the city at a lightly used gate. There was no inspection. Both housing and population density started gradually increasing from that point. It wasn’t long before the buildings were built one right next to the other; some even shared a common wall. There were no more open areas. I actually began to feel a little claustrophobic, which is ridiculous. I’m a New Yorker for Zaphod’s sake! This wouldn’t even be a blip on a map of New York. I’ve spent too much time in the countryside. The traffic begins to build around us, a combination of other assorted wagons, carriages, single horses and people, all streaming toward the center of the city. Suddenly, the flow of traffic stops. Johnathyn hands me the reins and stands up on the bench, searching for the reason for the back up. He quickly drops back down, retaking control of our horses.

“What is it? Did you see something?” I ask.

“It’s the Guard. They’ve pulled over some of the larger wagons. They’re searching them.”

“For what?”

“How am I to know that?”

“Sorry. It’s just that we don’t need this right now.”

“Agreed. Maybe we won’t be chosen.”

“You want to bet on that?”

“No, I would not. If we are stopped, I will deal with it.”

“I can take them out, if necessary.”

“Not like the last time, I hope.”

“You don’t think I’ve learned something since then?”

“Sorry, of course you have. It is only that we will have no where to run, not with this crowd.”

“Got it. Keep moving and hope that … CRAP!”

A uniformed man on horseback signals for us to pull over behind another covered wagon like ours. Two uniformed men dart out into traffic and hold things up until we can move over to where he indicated. There are other troops swarming the wagon in front of us, pitching some items out for others to take apart. The Guard on horseback moves next to Johnathyn.

“What is your business?”

“Delivery to the Palace for the Queen’s celebration … Sir.”

“Delivery of what?”

“Supplies, Sir.”

He gave Johnathyn a suspicious look. “What kind of supplies? Never mind. Sergeant! Inspect this wagon!”

Before either of us can say anything, a Guard runs to the back of our wagon and jumps in, moving right to the barrels. Johnathyn immediately drops his arm across my hands. I don’t need my hands to get rid of this guy but the message is clear. Not yet.

He looks around one of the barrels loaded with explosives.

“HEY LIEUTENANT BIGGLES, I’VE FOUND KLATCH!”

The Guard on the horse turns towards Johnathyn. I assume he’s Biggles.

“Klatch you say. How much, Sergeant?”

“Looks like three barrels!”

He whistles. “Three barrels! That’s quite a lot. I am certain that no one will miss a barrel. Wouldn’t you agree, driver?”

Johnathyn glances over at me, shaking his head just slightly. He wants me to wait. I give him a single, short nod. It’s his … for now. He slowly stands up, giving Biggles a good look at him.

“No, Lieutenant Biggles, I do not. The Queen herself is expecting this delivery. It is a gift to her friends in the Winthrop Group. If we arrive one barrel short and she asks me what happened to that barrel, I will be forced to tell her that it was taken by Lieutenant Biggles and … what is your name, Sergeant?”

“Uuuhhh … Marley.”

“Thank you. By Lieutenant Biggles and Sergeant Marley of the Queen’s Guard. I myself would not like to appear in front of the Queen to explain why I stole a barrel of Klatch from her. Even if she is forgiving, I have heard that the men from the Winthrop Group take a dim view of such behavior. Wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant Biggles?”

Biggles was smart enough to know he was had. If we didn’t have his name, it would have been a different story but there were too many people around. That and Johnathyn is a damn intimidating guy when he wants to be.

“Sergeant …”

“Yes, Sir.” The Guard was already vaulting out the back of the wagon. He wanted nothing to do with us, either.

Johnathyn sits back down and picks up the reins.

“Are we free to go, Lieutenant Biggles?”

“Off with you,” he growls, spinning his horse away from us. Johnathyn flicks the reins and guides us back into the flow of traffic. I wait until we are well clear of the Guards before saying anything.

“Not bad.”

“Thank you.”

“We probably shouldn’t have used old klatch barrels for our bombs.”

“I will make a note for the next time we attack the Palace.”

“Good idea.”

It took us another hour to work our way through the traffic, the back roads and alleys to finally reach the spot we had agreed on. It’s a back wall of the Palace, on the east side. The surrounding buildings are set back at least a hundred decileagues away. There’s some foot traffic but it’s far from any entrances. Everyone else was already there, waiting for us.

“You are late,” says Dierdra. “We were worried.”

“We had a little problem with the Queen’s Guards but Johnathyn took care of it.”

“Johnathyn?”

“Yeah. He was very slick. I married him for more than his good looks.”

He couldn’t help smiling when I said that. “Thank you, Alexia. Are we ready?”

I pull my cell phone from the pocket of my dress and check the clock. We’ve still got a half hour. We decided to hit at the end of the day. There is a day long ceremony scheduled for the final presentation of gifts to Opulessa by her subjects and the Patrons of the various regions. It’s also the last day of the month long celebration, so everyone should be pretty tired, not very alert, and likely either drunk or hung over. At least that’s what Beckwith’s cousin said has happened in the past. Most of the people who normally work in this part of the Palace should be attending the ceremony in the courtyard, so it’s a reasonably safe place to enter. The Queen takes frequent breaks, more towards the end of the day than the beginning and everything comes to a halt until she returns. Everyone else has to stay put. The timing could be tricky.

“Not yet but soon. Bring everyone in for a quick huddle.”

Dierdra raises her hand and waves it, beckoning for all the girls to join us. Once gathered together, I look each one in the face. Some are determined but most look afraid.

“It’s about time to go. We’ve practiced for this. Each and every one of you is a powerful witch. I can feel the magic potential in the air, so can you. You’re going to be more powerful today than you have ever been in your lives, than you’re ever going to be again. This is the peak, the top of the mountain. People will ask you about this moment for the rest of your lives … so no pressure.”

A number of the girls giggle at the lame joke.

“It’s really simple. Do what we’ve practiced, support your friends, follow Dierdra’s directions and we’ll win this thing. You’ll do something that hundreds of men have tried and failed. You’ll change your world. For the better.”

I hold my hand out towards them, palm down. They all hesitate until Dierdra puts her hand on top of mine. One by one, they all join in, Beckwith being the last. A final look around, there seems to be more confidence than there was before.

“Go team!” I shout.

We break up and slowly scatter, each woman moving towards their assigned spot. I hand the cell phone to Dierdra.

“You light the fuse on the bombs when the alarm goes off. I’ll wait a few decicycles after the explosion and then I’ll make my entrance. Get the Weather team set up and working right away, though, it may just be me but I can sorta feel a change in the air already.”

“I feel it also, Alexia.”

“Hope we’re right. Keep people away from the wagon before the explosion. Far away.”

“I know. The fewest injuries possible. If we have to hurt some of the Queen’s Guards, we will make them easy to repair.”

“Perfect.”

We stand there looking at each other for a moment or two. I have to say something.

“Dierdra … if I don’t see you again …”

“Say nothing, Alexia. We will prevail.”

“Oh yeah, sure we will … but … if we don’t, I regret nothing. I’d do it all over again. You’ve been a real rock this entire time … and my best friend.”

“Your best woman friend.”

“Okay, my best woman friend. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget that.”

“Nor will I.”

We tightly hug one another. I can feel tears in my eyes.

“Be careful out there,” I whisper.

“Take care, my Queen,” she responds.

I hang on for another couple of milicycles then we break apart. I hurry towards Johnathyn. He’s standing near the wall, a large leather bag slung over his shoulder. I rub the tears from my eyes as I approach.

“Are you well, Alexia?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s in the bag?”

“My equipment.”

“What ‘equipment’? You don’t need …” He picks up his rifle, which he had hidden behind a tree. “What are you doing with that? I thought we had agreed, no killing!”

“I do not kill unless I want to. I may be able to keep someone from bothering you.”

I don’t have time to argue with him. “Fine, but keep that out of sight when I talk with the Winthrop people.” I grab his arm. “We’re just going to hop over this wall but we don’t land until we look around to make sure we’re alone.”

“I understand.”

”And no noise.”

He nods. Turning my head, I take one last look around. Have I missed something? Probably, but it’s too late now. God … don’t let any of my friends die.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

No one saw us land. Gentle as a feather, silent as the grave. There’s a door just where it should be so we hurry across the open space and enter the Palace. It’s a big place. The photos from my cell phone don’t do it justice.

Still no one to be seen anywhere. We need to get some place where we can see the courtyard. I hope Gamgee’s map was accurate. Johnathyn points to a set of steps to our right.

“That way should lead us to a window in the battlement. It will be far away from the throne but we will be able to see what is happening.”

”Lead on but be quiet.”

“I am as stealthy as a mouse.”

More like a bear. A big Grizzly bear. We head up the stairs at a fast walk, skimming past closed doors and openings to other hallways, Johnathyn moving swiftly, confident of his route. Hope he’s right because we don’t have time to get lost. It takes a few decicycles but we end up in front of an open window. Peering out, I can see we are on a second floor overlooking the courtyard. At the far end there’s a stage with a raised dais, a throne in the middle. On the throne is a radiant, blonde woman wearing a brilliant white gown. Johnathyn looks out the window, his head next to mine.

“So that is the Queen,” he says. “They are right, she is very beautiful.”

I “accidentally” give him an elbow in his ribs as I step away.

*** * * * *** * * * ***

She is HERE! I can feel her! She is in the Palace, somewhere. No matter, though it has taken her long enough. I was afraid this day would never come. Looking over the hundreds of people standing below me, I can’t see anyone I do not recognize but I am certain she is present. The moment is nearly at hand. I need to prepare. I signal the Crier standing near me. He steps forward.

“ALL ATTEND!” he shouts. “THE QUEEN NOW TAKES HER LEAVE!”

I stand and gracefully descend the staircase in front of my throne then turn and do the same for the staircase behind it. It is a short walk to a large room with a settee and cold drink waiting for me, including a bottle of Scotch Whiskey, one of a dozen cases given to me by Mr. White of the Consortium. A brief respite and a libation or three and I will be ready for her.

*** * * * *** * * * ***

“Did you see what she was wearing?”

I bring the binoculars down from my eyes. They are one of the things we kept from the packs of the two Guards I killed. They are from my world. Thought they might come in handy some day. Both of us step back from the window.

“Yes, I saw, Johnathyn.”

“Can you copy it?”

“Close enough. Let’s go find a Winthrop Guard.”

I hand the binoculars back to Johnathyn and he stashes them in his bag. We need to hurry, the clock is ticking.

*** * * * *** * * * ***

No one has shown any interest in the wagon since Johnathyn parked it here. I will admit to a certain amount of nervousness sitting here on the driver’s bench with the barrels of explosive in the back. I have no idea what he and Alexia went through driving here from the farm with those things bouncing and banging around in the back. I’ve spent a lot of time in this wagon and I know what it is like on rough roads.

I have broken the tongue of the wagon, should someone in authority come buy and tell me to move it. My story will be that my son has gone to get help, so that it may be repaired well enough for us to get it to a wainwright for complete repairs. The broken tongue also allows me to quickly move the horses away from the wagon when it is time for me to light the fuse. I promised Johnathyn that the horses would be safe.

He had insisted and rightly so. They have been reliable and faithful these past few months, deserving of a fate better than death here on the street.

From my seat, I can see above the heads of the crowd and can identify where each and every member of our coven is right now, waiting for my signal to begin moving the people away from the wagon. I will not light the fuse until I am certain that all are far enough away to be safe. Beckwith has been staying close to the wagon. She now approaches again,

“How much longer?” she asks for the third time since Alexia and Johnathyn flew over the wall.

“Be patient, at least fifteen decicycles, if I read this device correctly.”

“Should we not start …”

“No, it might attract attention to us before we are ready. We best wait and follow the plan.”

“The almighty plan,” she grumbles.

“Yes. The almighty plan. Everyone knows their part and I expect each of us to do as they have been directed, including you, Beckwith.”

“You need not worry about me, I will do my part, and more.”

*** * * * *** * * * ***
We hurry along a hallway, Alexia slightly ahead of me. We must find one of the Winthrop Guards as quickly as possible. Time truly is of the essence. Alexia slows as we approach a corner. I settle against the wall next to her. She peeks around the corner, then reaches back, grabbing my arm. Pulling back and smiling, she whispers “Got one!”

I bring my rifle up, holding it against my chest. This is a crucial moment. It all depends upon Alexia, though I have great confidence in her abilities. We both step back away from the corner. She closes her eyes and slows her breathing, attempting to relax. She stands there, breathing slowly for several seconds before the change starts.

I have seen this several times before but always worry that she will be unable to return to her original shape. The glow starts around her head but soon spreads over her entire body, hiding any details of her original shape. The glowing image begins to move, taking on a new shape. Shorter, slightly wider in the waist and hips, the dress becomes more voluminous in the skirt. As the glowing begins to fade and the details return, it is no longer Alexia standing before me, it is Queen Opulessa, down to the slightest detail. I would not have thought it possible if I had not seen it with my own eyes.

“How do I look?” she asks but not in her voice.

“Perfect, as far as I can tell. Why don’t you sound as yourself?”

“Guess it comes with the package. Wish me luck.”

“What kind of luck?”

She gives me a look that, though the face is new, is very familiar.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Being among the newest men, I almost always get the shit duty. The Queen doesn’t often make public appearances, this past month being an exception. It’s been one event after another, giving all her subjects the chance to show their love for her. Me and the rest of the new guys are usually stuck here in the Palace instead of outside where we can see what’s going on. If you’re lucky, you get stationed near a window and you can see it all from a distance.

I wasn’t lucky today.

At least I can hear what’s happening. Sort of. Things have quieted down so she’s probably taking another break. These long days are wearing on her, we can tell. A lot of the guys think it’s all too much but she bravely pushes on. Anything for her people.

It was quiet but now I hear someone moving down the hall towards me. It stops and then I hear very quiet voices. There shouldn’t be anyone in this area. I’m just about ready to report in and start to investigate when the Queen appears right in front of me! She just turns the corner and BANG, there she is!

“My Liege! Is there something wrong?!”

“Yes, there is. I need all of your men to report to me in the Mess. Immediately. It is a matter of life and death.”

“Your Majesty, I’m not authorized to do that.”

“I am. Call your superior officer right now.”

“Yes, Ma’am, right away, Ma’am.”

I grab my radio and punch up Staff Sergeant Pinion.

“What is it, Beech?”

“Trooper Ernie Beech reporting, Sergeant Pinion.”

“I know that Beech, what’s up?”

“Sarge, I’ve got the Queen standing right in front of me. She says she needs all of us to report to the Mess pronto. It’s a matter of life or death.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Beech? She was just on the throne not two minutes ago!”

“Well, she’s five feet away from me right now, Sarge.”

The Queen holds out her hand, palm up.

“Give me the radio, Trooper Beech.”

She remembers my name! This is a day to tell my folks about … if I was allowed to do that. I give her the radio. She tosses her lustrous blonde hair to one side, exposing her right, shell like ear and daintily brings the radio up next to it.

“Sergeant Pinion, this is the Queen … Yes, I was on the throne but now I am here … I am a witch, after all. We can do that sort of thing … apology accepted. Now, I want every one of your men who are on duty to come directly to the Mess … yes, every one of them … yes, right now … Sergeant Pinion, am I not making myself clear? This is not a time for debate. You all have five decicycles, no excuses … then I suggest that you hurry and spread the word. You now have less than five decicycles.”

She hands me back the radio, which is alive with chatter. She holds out her hand.

“You may escort me to the Mess, Mr. Beech.”

I take her hand gently in mine and bow slightly, just like they taught us.

“It would be my pleasure, your Majesty!”

We don’t get twenty feet before running into this really big local. Really big! I drop the Queen’s hand and go for my carbine but she stops me.

“Hold up, Ernie. He is a friend.”

She called me ERNIE! Wonderful day! The Queen returns her hand to mine.

“The Mess, if you please, Ernie. We must hurry.”

“Yes, my Queen!”

I walk away as fast as I think she can. She keeps pace so I speed up a bit. I keep doing this until we are almost running but she moves with such grace and flair that you would never notice it.

We get to the Mess before everyone else but they start arriving just seconds behind us. The first ones are Sergeant Pinion and a couple of the other guys. They all see the Queen and bow.

“You weren’t shitting me, Beech! Please excuse my language, your Majesty. It’s just that you surprised us all, what with the Houdini act.”

“Success is what matters, Sergeant Pinion.”

He sucks in his gut and throws out his chest when she says his name as she directs him to go inside. The crowd swells as more guys come running in. The last to arrive are from the other end of the compound.

“Please shut the door, Ernie,” she says, each note of her voice a symphony of delight. “Is this all of you?”

Sergeant Pinion just finished a head count. “All present and accounted for, my Queen. All except Colonel Willis, of course. He was up on stage with you but you knew that.”

She smiles brightly, as if indulging a child. “Of course, Sergeant Pinion. I will speak with him later.” She turns to face the troops, all of which are staring at her, breathing hard from the exertion. “I must thank you for your prompt compliance with my request. I am so proud of you all!”

Now it’s all of us smiling, but the Queen turns somber.

“I have some bad news. The rogue witch is here in the Palace even as we speak.” Every man goes for his gun. “No! Stop!” We do as she orders. “I have a fool proof plan to stop her but she arrived sooner than I expected so there wasn’t time to explain it to all of you. All you need to know is that you are to remain in reserve. I plan to set a trap for her and when she steps into it, I will call for all of you, springing the trap! You are all my most loyal, valuable and trustworthy friends and am counting on you. Should you fail me, I fear for my life. You will not fail me, will you?”

With one voice, we declare our love for her, that we would rather die than disappoint her! She’s clearly moved by our demonstration.

“I do not deserve such guardians as yourselves! Remember, it is vital, VITAL, that you all stay in this room until I personally come for you. I will not send a representative, or a written document. You all stay in this room until I come and get you. You may hear an explosion or two … or three, but you are to ignore anyone that isn’t me. I assure you that this is all according to my great plan. Do not worry about a single thing. My only fear is that one of you might become injured and die needlessly. I could not live with myself if that should happen.”

Looking around the room, I can see that we all feel the truth in her words. She really is concerned for our safety! That such a woman as her would be not only worried about our safety but feel pain if any of us were injured. How lucky are we?

Sergeant Pinion steps forward. “I believe that I can speak for all the men when I say that there is no force on this world that will dislodge us from this room until you personally give the word. Am I right men?!”

The shouts in response are almost deafening. The Queen looks positively angelic, smiling blissfully, all of us bathed in her happiness. I actually feel high right now, high on positive vibes. She waives her hands and we all fall immediately silent.

“I must leave you now but will soon return. Do not become concerned with what you hear and see. The rogue witch may attempt to fool you in order to get you out of this room but I implore you to remain strong and steadfast. Take care. I will see you all shortly. To Victory!”

“Victory! Victory! Victory!” We all shout as the Queen leaves the room and runs down the hallway, the shouts continue until she turns a corner and disappears, some of the men keep shouting a short while longer. Eventually, we all fall silent. I walk over to Pinion.

“What do we do now, Sarge?”

“We do what the Lady said; we wait until she comes back.”

“What if the other witch tries to fool us?”

“Beech, are you saying you wouldn’t be able to recognize the real Queen?”

“NO! No! Of course not! I was just spit balling, you know, what if. So, what do we do while we wait?”

“We’re in the Mess, son. I say we eat.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I am leading Alexia up the spiral stairs of the main turret of the Palace, its highest point which overlooks the courtyard. I am running hard but she is right on my heels. When we emerge into the open air at the top, we are both breathing rapidly.

“What … did you … think of … my …. performance … in the … Mess?” she gasps.

“I … almost … joined … them,” I answer between gulps of air.

She walks over to the edge and looks over the waist high stone wall that surrounds the circular tower.

“The Queen’s … back and … the ceremony has … started again.”

I join her. It is quite a drop to the courtyard below, at least ten stories.

“Are you certain you want to do this that way?”

“I want to make a big entrance. Can you think of something bigger?”

“Not at the moment. What now?”

“We wait for the explosion. Until then …” She begins to unbutton her dress. I am shocked.

“You’re not suggesting that we … are you?”

She looks at me, puzzled, then down at her hands and the eight buttons that she has already opened. She then laughs.

“No, Johnathyn, not that …” she returns to unbuttoning her dress. “… though, if we had more time, it might be a different story.”

“Then what in Zaphod’s name are you …”

She drops her dress to the stone floor and steps away, wearing a dark black garment of some kind, covering her from the neck to the ankles but as tight as her own skin. It covers but reveals everything!

“What is that?!” I demand.

“SSSHHHhhhh be quiet! They’ll hear you down there. Like it? In my world, it’s called a ‘cat suit’. Normally, it would be made out of Lycra or even leather, something really tight. We did what we could with what we had.”

“This could be even tighter? Are you without shame?”

“Pretty much. I wasn’t going to fight Opulessa in a dress so I needed something else. Leeanna and I ran through several ideas but we decided this was the best.”

“Leeanna helped you with this?”

“Sure, why do you think she’s been out of our hair the past few days? It’s a shame I couldn’t wear a pair of spike heeled thigh high boots with this outfit. It would rock! But they would suck for fighting.”

“Why would you even think about wearing such a …”

“Sexy outfit? A couple of reasons. It will move with me and not get in the way. The other is it’ll drive Opulessa crazy. She’s a two hundred thirty something year old woman who tries to look like she’s in her twenties. She spends a lot of time and energy doing so and still can’t pull it off. She’s always wearing those full, floaty dresses. She may have the face, she may have the boobs, she doesn’t have the figure any more. Clearly, I do. It’ll piss her off to no end, which helps me.”

“So you have really thought this out. I am impressed.”

“Should I keep the outfit after we’re done today?”

“Yes … because our daughter spent so much time working on it.”

“Yeah. Right.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

What could she possibly be waiting for? She is close, very close. I can see no guards at all, perhaps that is it. Willis has gone too far in making me appear vulnerable, she suspects a trap of some kind. If something doesn’t happen soon, she may force my hand.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I look at the clock on the device that Alexia gave to me. It appears that we are five decicycles from the alarm going off. We had better start moving people away from the wagon. The coven have been nervously awaiting my signal so as soon as I wave my hand above my head they are all off and about, gently suggesting, prodding or actively moving people away from the wagon. We had discussed several possible stories, a wagon full of fireworks, a rabid horse, or a contagious patient waiting for treatment. Silva had suggested a terrible smell but we were unable to produce one that all agreed would work, though we did come close. We just needed more time.

However they are doing it, our coven seems to be succeeding. There is no one within a hundred decileagues of the wagon, though there are buildings closer. I have tasked six of our group to do the best that the can to divert the blast away from them. It would have been nice to practice this before today but it would have been too dangerous.

The alarm sounds in my pocket. It is the moment of final decision. If I do not light this fuse, we could all still leave and no one would be the wiser. As I stand on the driver’s bench and look about me, doubts fill my mind. Beckwith charges towards me.

“Why do you delay? It is time! Light the fuse and let the revolution begin! The time for vengeance is now! If you can not do it, allow me the glory!”

“There is no glory in this, only necessary tragedy. I will play my part as will you. Back to your post.”

Beckwith moves away from the wagon as I duck under the cover; thrusting the embers into a bowl of extremely dry tinder soaked in Klatch. The bowl immediately burst into flame. I hold it below the length of treated rope which instantly sputters and ignites, slowly burning toward the first barrel. This we had tested. It will take nearly four decicycles to burn down to what Alexia calls the ‘detonator”. At that point, it will be too late to stop it.

Wasting no time, I throw the burning bowl out the back of the wagon, return to the front, jump down and run around to the front where the horses await. I grab the dangling reins and swiftly lead them away. They did not resist, possibly sensing the danger we all were in. Once achieving what I hope is a safe distance, I turn to watch.

What I see freezes my blood.

Beckwith is less than fifty decileages behind the wagon, one of the barrels of flour floating above her head but rising fast into the air towards the Palace, the other four barrels rapidly following the first. In short order, they were all high in the air over the east end of the Palace. Before I can call to Beckwith, the barrels burst, sending an enormous cloud of flour dust dropping over this end of the Palace but also drifting over the nearby houses and the people standing near those houses. Luckily, the people began to run away from the cloud, not knowing what it is. Beckwith is also running away. I thrust the reins into the hands of Emlilly, who is standing next to me and dash to where Beckwith has come to rest. It was now impossible to see the wagon, Palace or nearby houses due to the flour dust. I roughly grab Beckwith and spin her around to face me.

“Are you insane?! What did you do?!”

“Alexia is not the only one who knows something about explosions. Have you ever seen a dust explosion? They can be extraordinarily destructive. There was one time where …”

I did not hear the rest of Beckwith’s explanation. Our bombs exploded, consuming the cloud of flour in a whirlwind of flame.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Whatever it was, it was not magic. Spectacular still. I had not seen anything like it in my over two hundred years as Queen.

The sound was like thunder but as if the lightning had struck almost on top of you. Unbelievably loud, the force of the blast knocking you off your feet, the ground itself actually moving for a brief moment, but that was nothing compared to what was in the sky. An enormous ball of fire, engulfing the east end of the Palace, the fire rapidly pulling in air from all directions, sucking the bonnets and hats worn by those in the courtyard straight into the blazing maelstrom.

And then it was gone, leaving nothing but smoke, scorched skin and hair … and silence, which lasted but for a brief moment and was immediately replaced with screams and shouts as the people below me in the courtyard began to panic and run about.

A very promising start.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The explosion had knocked me to the ground. I quickly arose to see the entire area around us was scorched from the flash fire. All the plants and trees were blackened, their leaves and branches still smoldering. There was a large hole in the Palace wall, large enough to drive Johnathyn’s wagon through it if the wagon had not been blown to pieces and the wooden remains not laying about with smoke rising from the glowing embers. Beckwith was standing not more than twenty decileagues from me, smiling while admiring the results of her folly.

“This will bring the Guard down upon us!” she declares and then begins to laugh. There was no time for me to argue with her.

“Silva! Pamela! You both search that building!” I point to the structure nearest the Palace. There is smoke rolling out of several windows that were facing us. “Search for the injured. If you find any, bring them directly to me.”

“Where will you be?” Silva shouts over her shoulder as she and Pamela race towards the building.

“I will be in the Palace. Look towards the kitchen. Beckwith!” She turns towards me with undisguised glee on her face. “You have your wish. We will talk later about the consequences. Make certain the Queen’s Guard does not interfere with our plans. Do as Alexia ordered or not even Zaphod’s grace will save you from her wrath. Nor mine.”

I do not wait for her answer but hurry towards and through the hole in the wall, followed closely by Olga. We must establish a base of some kind where we can care for the now inevitable injured people. We had all discussed several options while planning for today but the kitchen seemed the best choice, as it was near a large door to permit deliveries, had particularly thick walls and was larger than most other single spaces.

As we turn the last soot covered corner, Olga and I enter the kitchen to find Beckwith’s cousin Gamgee waiting for us.

“What was all that fire!” she demanded. “None of you said anything about fire!”

“That was your cousin’s unplanned contribution. Speak to her about it.”

“Beckwith did that?”

“Without telling any of us about her plans.”

“The vengeful cow! I could have been killed!”

“Beckwith cares not,” I say. “There will be many who will pay the price for her recklessness before the day is over. Are you ready for us?”

“Aye. All doors but one have been locked and barred. You can begin …”

Suddenly, that one unlocked door is thrown open and several men rush in, panic in their eyes. I do not give them even a moment to catch their breaths but, with a flick of my hand, throw them back out the door, slamming it shut behind them.

That was much easier than it should have been. Olga and Gamgee are astonished at what they saw me do.

“By Jillian’s grace!” Olga swears. “Alexia was right! We can do most anything today.”

“Keep control and use your power wisely,” I warn. “The day is young and we are far from success. Beckwith has likely made a hard job more difficult.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

To be honest, I didn’t pay a lot of notice to the explosion. Johnathyn and I were a little busy right then, our attention on other things. Like where our hands were. And our mouths. And tongues. I did spot the unexpected glow in the sky. I break our kiss and turn my head in time to see the wall of fire dissipate. Then I hear shouts and screams coming from where I had hoped not to hear them.

“Should that have happened?” asks Johnathyn, still holding me tightly against his body, one arm across my upper back, the other hand on my tight ass.

“No, it shouldn’t have. Something went wrong.” I push away from him but keep a firm grip on his hand.

“What can we do about it?”

“Nothing. We push on.”

Both of us move to the edge of the wall and look over into the courtyard. Lots of pandemonium and no guards. At least this part is on target. Johnathyn reaches into his bag with his free hand and removes a big, curled horn.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“To get their attention. You said you wanted a big entrance.”

“I did say that.”

I need to go but I can’t release Johnathyn’s hand. He’s not trying to let go of mine either. Finally, he deliberately brings our joined hand to his lips and gently kisses mine. Our entwined fingers slowly separate, hands dropping to our sides.

He hefts the horn, positioning it in his hands. Just before inhaling, he looks over at me.

“Please, Alexia, come home to your family.”

“Zaphod willing, I will.”

He takes a deep breath, clamps his lips on to the mouthpiece and lets loose an ear shattering blast. He takes another breath and does it again but before he finishes, I dash several steps towards the wall and launch myself into the air, falling towards the courtyard below.

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

It had been a surprisingly short fight. At least three squads of the Queen’s Guard had ridden up but we had disarmed most of them before they even dismounted. None of them expected their weapons to be yanked from their hands. The only ones who kept their guns were those who had the straps around their arms or shoulders and they ended up on the ground at their horses’ feet. They came up firing but that only lasted as long as their fingers remained unbroken, which was not very long.

Once I found their Captain, I lifted him off his horse, held him in mid-air, stripped him of his clothes and dropped him back down on his mount, naked. They did not stay long after that. They may be planning some kind of attack right now but the longer it takes, the better for us, as long as Alexia is doing what she promised. It doesn’t really matter if she succeeds or fails. I am not leaving here until I have had my revenge.

The magic power here is breathtaking. Things that were difficult before are easy. Lifting one barrel of flour skyward would have been hard three days ago but now, lifting all four was nearly effortless. Crushing them was easier than not crushing them. I wonder if this is how Alexia feels every day. Or Opulessa.

Suddenly, someone grabs me by the back of my blouse. I turn, ready to fight but discover that it is only Dierdra.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“You are coming to help with the medical problems. Now.”

“I am still needed here. There may be another attack. We do not know …”

“If there is another attack, Olga will replace you. I saw how much you enjoyed yourself out there.”

“And what is wrong with that? You cannot tell me what to do.”

“Alexia left me in command. You will do as I say.”

“What do I care of Alexia’s orders? I am here and I will do as I please!”

“You will do no such thing!”

Dierdra stands straight up, spreading her arms wide, palms up, her fingers extended. She seems to be growing before my eyes, sparks passing between her fingers, her hair flying about as if alive. She is a Fifty Two while I am a Forty Five. I know how powerful I feel, she must be experiencing the same things I did, only more so. I step away from her and raise my hands, ready to strike at her but she slaps me down as if I were a child. She lifts me off the ground, shaking me.

“I brought you into this! I vouched for you! I knew how badly you wanted vengeance but I did not expect you to be so reckless! Come, see the results of your handiwork.”

I fight her but she easily drags me back toward the Palace wall in which there is now a large hole, the result of the explosion. Once inside the Palace grounds, Dierdra takes a zig zag route through large pieces of debris. I can also see much damage from the dust fire. It was my hope that the dust would travel through out the building, burning those inside to death. I have not seen any corpses yet. She stops, opens a door and throws me inside the room. Landing on the floor, I quickly scramble to my feet and confront her.

“How DARE you treat me in such a manner! We have known each other for YEARS!”

“I thought I knew you. Clearly, I was wrong. Greet the residents of the building next to the Palace. If your conscience permits it.”

I look around the room. There are at least twenty people, men women and children, who are burned, some worse than others, all being cared for by members of our coven. I had not intended this though I knew it was possible.

“This is war Dierdra. Innocents sometimes get hurt, even die. It is the price we pay for victory.”

“OH, WE pay that price, do WE? Let me show you another set of your victims from today.” She starts to walk away but I do not follow. She stops after a few steps, turning back to me. “Afraid to see them are you? You can either walk or be drug.”

Reluctantly, I follow her to another, smaller room attached to the larger room. When we enter, the smell is horrible. I hurriedly cover my nose and mouth with a handkerchief. Dierdra takes it away from me.

“You need the full experience, Beckwith. Step aside, Olga.”

Olga gets up, staring at me as if she would kill me if she could. My eyes follow her as she leaves the room. What have I done to her?

“Look this way, Beckwith,” growls Dierdra. I turn back to where Olga was originally sitting. There are two low makeshift beds on which there are two terribly burned bodies, charred flesh peeling off their limbs. One is much smaller than the other. Suddenly, the larger one moans in pain.

“She is alive?!” I cry.

“Yes. Olga has performed miracles today. It is now your turn. They are mother and daughter. There is a second child, a baby. The mother could only protect one of her children when their room became flooded with flour dust which burst into flames. You behaved as a Healer before today. Prove to me that you are still a human being. Keep this woman and her child alive until Alexia can come and heal them.”

“Heal them?! That is impossible! That they live at all is Zaphod’s will.”

“Then you best pray for his blessings because if either of them dies, you will join that poor, tortured soul in the after life in the same manner. And should you care to know, this is not just my decision. Every member of the coven who has seen these poor unfortunates agrees with me. That is eight of twelve. I expect it will soon be unanimous.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The horn drew all eyes, including mine, to the top of the tower, bringing a momentary halt to the panicked hurley burley in the Courtyard. Most everyone gasps or screams when the figure appears to leap from the top of the tower, arms outstretched and then starts to fall towards the ground below. It rapidly becomes obvious that it is a woman and that she will strike the ground very soon. Many people run away from where it appears she will land. The woman almost seems to fall faster than expected and strikes the ground with great force, raising a large cloud of dust. As the dust settles, a few men edged towards where one would expect to see the various body parts, but the woman is still intact! In fact, she is hunched over one knee, dressed completely in black. She raises her head, looking directly at me, smiling through blood red lips on her flawless porcelain skin surrounded by a wild mane of dark black hair. She rises and steps forward from the depression in the dirt around her.

One must give her credit for such a simple but impressive entrance. That and her manner of dress. No woman would ever appear in public dressed as she is, no matter how lovely she might be. Ahhh youth, precious youth. So bold and unconventional! So confident! I will allow that confidence to grow before taking it away. I rise from my throne.

“Welcome to my party. By what name do you answer, my dear?”

“My name is Alexia Thompson. You may call me Alexia, Opulessa.”

Such disrespect! Insolence such as that must be punished, but not quite yet.

“Alexia it shall be. Perhaps you are aware of another famous Alexia?”

“Yeah, I am. I think she got bad press. If she’d had a better agent, the name ‘Alexia’ would be more popular than sliced bread.”

Did that fall addle her mind? No matter. “You dress as she would.”

“What, this old thing? I just threw it on today. Thought it might be more comfortable than all that full skirted stuff you wear. You can tell me, just between us girls, you’re what … two, maybe three stone overweight? When you’re young and fit like I am, you can wear just about anything but when you get old and fat, like you … well, the choices are more limited, aren’t they, Opulessa?”

Now the punishment. “If you can not be bothered to dress appropriately, perhaps you should not be dressed at ALL!”

I waive my hand, ripping the clothes from her body … but they do not move! She has blocked me! She smirks at me.

“Nice try. My turn, Grandma.”

A blow strikes me in the head. Losing my balance, I fall to the stage floor. That infuriating young witch flies into the air and lands on the other end of the stage opposite me.

“You and I need to talk, Opulessa. You may yet live through this.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Where the hell are my men!

The Queen wanted me on stage with the rest of the dignitaries but first there was the explosion and fire. I hadn’t fought my way fifty feet into the crowd before there was that God awful blast on the horn and the rogue witch fell out of the sky. I thought she’d screwed up and died right then but she got up and walked out of the crater she made when she hit the ground. That’s one tough bitch.

My boys should have been pouring into the courtyard by now but there’s been zilch! I haven’t got my radio with me because the Queen didn’t want the chatter to interrupt the ceremony but I left it nearby. By the time I reach it, they’ve traded blows and Opulessa seems to be having the worst of it. I switch it on.

“This is Colonel Willis! Anyone who can hear this, REPORT!”

“This is Captain Ridgeway, reporting as ordered, Sir”

“Where the FUCK are you, Ridgeway?!”

“In the Mess with the rest of the guys, Colonel.”

The Mess? Why in God’s name are they … “Get your asses out to the courtyard this God Damn instant Ridgeway. Do you read me?!”

“Yes, Sir, we read you loud and clear but no can do. The Queen told us all to stay here until she came and got us personally.”

What the fuck?! “Exactly when did she tell you this, Ridgeway?”

“About twenty five minutes ago. Before that big ass explosion, that’s for sure.”

“Well I am countermanding that order, Ridgeway! All of you get your gear and report to the courtyard immediately!”

“Sorry, Colonel. The Queen said that there would be people trying to get us to violate her orders so we all solemnly swore to follow her orders in detail, no matter what anybody else said.”

“Ridgeway, I am not someone, I am your commanding OFFICER! Get your asses out here NOW!”

“Again, sorry Colonel, but you aren’t the Queen and you can’t countermand her orders”

I look up at the stage. They’re talking right now so I’ve got time to go and rattle some cages.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

She surprised me with that. Usually, there is a momentary surge of power before a witch strikes but her attack was instantaneous. Like mine are. I will not be taken so again. I slowly regain my feet and arise, maintaining my dignity as I do so.

“You wish to speak to me? Address me as is my due. I am your Queen.”

“Not mine, actually. My country overthrew the royal yoke about two hundred thirty seven years ago … which wasn’t long before you were born. Huh, I hadn’t thought about that before. I wonder if that means something? That’s for later. Right now, Opulessa, I want to talk about those who are your subjects. Do you have any idea what’s going on outside these walls? The poverty, the ignorance, the sickness, the abuse? Do you know how badly other women are treated? We are not respected. We’re pawed whenever we go out in the street alone. This is no way to run a world, Opulessa, but you can change that.”

“Why would I wish to do so?”

“You’re supposed to be in charge, that makes you responsible.”

“I have others who do that for me. I have passed responsibility on to them.”

“So, if they fuck it up, what do you do about it?”

“Such language! One who speaks with such a foul mouth deserves to look as they sound.”

I make no outward move but curse her nonetheless. For just a moment or two, her face begins to sprout fine, white feathers but they disappear. She shakes her head in disgust.

“Really? A chicken? That’s your answer? I treat you like a responsible adult and you try to slip me a curse. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if you force me to. There is too much riding on this to be squeamish. Are you willing to lead your people to a better, more equal world?”

“And who decides what this ‘better world’ is? A child like you? An outsider? You have barely lived one score while I have lived over eleven. Yes, these are my people and I will treat them as I wish, not how some simple minded trollop believes I should. MY people, do you hear! Mine to do with as I please!”

“I tried Opulessa. I gave you every chance. Beckwith said it was a waste of time. Turns out she was right this time.”

I feel the blows coming this time and block them, but barely. I am forced back to the edge of the stage before regaining my balance, yet, I am stronger for it. This is what I have been waiting for. She strikes again and again, in a frenzy of undisciplined youth, each strike filling my reservoir of power. I can sense that she is becoming fatigued, her attacks weaker. She has used her power too quickly, not allowing herself time to gather more power from the magic around her.

The ignorance of youth. It will be her undoing. Time to provide an education.

Stepping out of my crouch, I backhand her from the end of the stage. She flies at least thirty decileages before landing hard in a cloud of dust. I leap into the air and land close to her as she scurries to her feet, a look of puzzlement upon her face.

“What was that?!”

I backhand her again. She rolls to a stop, resting against a series of flag poles. This time, when she rises, there is a look of concern mixed with fear upon her face. She grabs one of the flag poles and rips it from the ground, turning to face me with it in her magically enhanced hands. She is learning, though likely by accident. It is better to attack a witch with things rather than raw magic. Raw magic attacks takes more power from you and passes it to your opponent. Using a magic controlled device conserves your power and forces your opponent to use her power to defend herself. To bad for her it is now too late.

“Have at you!” She shouts, charging me, swinging the long pole at my head. I am too fast for her, easily dodging the pole, then breaking it in half with a flick of my wrist. She throws the remaining stub aside.

“Is that all you’ve got!” she screams. “You’re nothing! You’re a washed out, used up, old dinosaur!”

I do not know what a dino-souer is but it is likely an insult. I reach out and pull a shower of bricks off the wall behind her. They mostly miss but a few strike their target, hitting her in her arms and legs. She moves away, limping slightly, panting.

“That’s it?! That’s ALL?! Tis but a scratch. A few measly bricks?! I’d expect more from a fat, old, relic like you. You’re supposed to be this almighty, all powerful witch of the century … hell, two centuries. Come on Oppy. Show me your good stuff!”

I oblige her.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When I reach the Mess, most of them are eating. The rest were watching a movie and eating. I’m going to flay the lot of them.

“CAPTAIN RIDGEWAY!!!”

The men fall away as Ridgeway pushes himself forward through the crowd, still holding his hamburger. He salutes with his free hand.

“Captain Ridgeway reporting, Sir.”

“What are you imbeciles doing?!”

“Nothing, Sir. We just thought that we might as well take advantage of the down time. You know what they say. Never pass up a meal while in the field, you don’t know when the next opportunity will come. We’re ready to drop everything and go the instant the Queen needs us.”

“The Queen needs you right now! I need you to grab your gear and get out to the courtyard. She’s fighting for her life, you idiot!”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but we’re just following orders. As I told you over the radio, The Queen was very, very explicit. We’re all to stay here until she personally comes to get us. Her exact words, Colonel.”

“And how did you know it was the Queen, Ridgeway?”

He smiled that familiar wide, slightly hazy smile you always see on a guys face after seeing the Queen. “There was no doubt, Colonel Willis. We all saw her and felt the love, her concern about our lives, that she wanted to keep us all safe. It was as strong as I’ve ever felt it. We all did.”

There was a general nodding of heads and those whose mouths weren’t stuffed with food added their two cents in agreeing with Ridgeway, even some of those whose mouths were stuffed with food.

“See, Colonel, no question about it. Maybe you should ask yourself why you haven’t joined us.”

“Because I’m not a fucking moron, that’s why! When this is done, I’m shipping the lot of you home, do you understand me? Home! Back to a girls life! Pretty dresses and high heels and makeup and no respect and fighting off stinking bastards until you just can’t fight anymore. Is that what you want, because, as God is my witness, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Ridgeway squares his shoulders and straightens up. “You do what you have to do, Colonel. The men and I have our Orders and we will follow them, to the letter, or die trying.”

Every last man jack stands up, taking the same stance. Who ever got to them got to them good. This is a fucking waste of time. I grab a M4A1 stacked against the wall and two spare clips sitting on the table.

“I’m taking these with me. Anybody got a problem with that?”

“No, Sir,” answers Ridgeway. “If we need more, we can requisition them from the Armory.”

“Great. NOW you’re being reasonable. When I find out who fucked up my command, there will be hell to pay.”

I turn and run for the door. I need to get back to the courtyard before it’s too late.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I’ve gone too far.

I knew it while I was doing it but the foolish girl would not be silent! No matter what I did, she continued to taunt and insult me. It was unbearable! Did she not understand who I am? Not being born in this world was no excuse; she had lived here long enough to learn how to properly treat a person of my stature. Instead, she had called me names, such as “Corpulessa”, “Tubbo”, and “The Wicked Witch of the West”. When I struck her with the remains of the flag pole, her arm was cut badly but she claimed it “was merely a flesh wound”. Regardless of what strike or curse I used, she would first block it and then deride my skill and power.

The result was that I over extended myself, just as she did early in our contest. The difference was that she had carefully husbanded her absorbed magic, not even bothering to repair her damaged arm, instead wrapping it with a torn piece of one of my birthday banners. She was careful not to give back any of the magic she retained from my attacks. I had deliberately given her openings but she refused to take them. The result being that I am now weaker than I was after the first attack and she is stronger. Surely, she does not know the limitations of our contest. How could she learn in such a short time what has taken me a lifetime? I can sense a growing confidence in her. Let us hope it is over confidence. We are slowly circling one another near the middle of the courtyard, raising a small cloud of dust, separated by about twenty paces. A cool wind blows across my face, stirring loose strands of hair, which land in my eyes. They are not blonde but gray! I glance at my hands. They are no longer smooth and supple but wrinkled with enlarged joints and age spots. There is thunder in the distance and I can feel the change in the weather in my joints. Alexia smiles at the sound of the echoes of thunder.

“About damn time. You’re looking a little old and haggard there, Oppy. Hope I’m not wearing you out.

I no longer have enough magic to easily maintain my façade of youth. I could take what I need from reserves but it is not worth it to waste power on such frivolities. There will be plenty of magic available to both restore my beauty and remove the memories of those who saw me in my current degrading condition once I have defeated this interloper and taken her power as my own.

“I am well, do not worry. Perhaps you should test me.”

“Perhaps I should.”

I tense my muscles, causing unsightly bulges to appear along my thin skinned arms. My movements are slow and feeble, my muscles having grown weak from lack of use due to my use of magic to support them. Consider this a lesson learned. After I defeat this ill bred whelp, I will take better care of myself in the future. She steps towards me, raising her hands. Here comes the blow … but I feel nothing but the air gently swirling around me, carrying dust skyward. Two can play the insult game.

“Is this your best effort, child? If so, it is disappointingly weak. I have created great winds, strong enough to topple the buildings in entire towns.”

“Good for you, Blondie, oh wait, that’s no longer true, is it? Your gray roots are showing. Actually, it’s more than your roots. Truthfully, Honey, you look like shit on a stick.”

It is all that I can do to keep myself from trying to wipe that smirk off her face but my resources are very low. My attack must be verbal.

“No need to concern yourself about my appearance. When I have defeated you, I will imprison you in a tower and slowly take your youth from you. You will be my prisoner for hundreds of years to come.”

The winds continue to swirl around me as a long, thin line of dust winds its way up towards the darkening clouds above the courtyard, the thunder growing louder and more frequent. I do not understand what is going on.

“Is this supposed to harm me in some way? I am getting dust in my eyes but other than that, you are wasting your time.”

“Ya’ think so? Let me educate you while we wait. There was a great man in my world, now dead. He was a scholar, a revolutionary, a patriot, a politician, an author, a humorist, an inventor, a scientist, an ambassador and a bureaucrat. Among his many accomplishments was the time when, at great personal risk, which he actually didn’t realize until too late but better dumb luck than none at all, right? Where was I, oh yeah, this great scientist managed to capture lightning in a jar by using nothing more than a kite, some string, a jar and a key. The man’s name was Benjamin Franklin. I don’t have a kite, string, key or jar but a thin stream of dust connecting the ground to the thunderhead will do the same thing as a kite string. This should work … just about …” I feel my hair rise in the air about me, my skin tingling. “ … now.”

There was a blinding flash of light, a tremendously loud explosion and a searing, burning heat. My entire body was wracked with intense pain, more severe than any I have ever felt in my long life. It pulsed several times then disappeared, leaving me stunned and on my knees, barely able to breathe. It would have killed anyone but myself or Alexia.

“What … happened … you …” the gentle breeze and swirl of dust returned. I will not survive another strike! I try to struggle to my feet but cannot make my legs follow my commands. The tingling sensation begins again as I fall to the ground.

It does no good. More light, more sound, more heat, more and more pain.

The stench of burning hair and flesh fills my nose. Somehow, I am still alive though every breath is accompanied by a bone breaking cough. I am laying face first in the dirt, weak as a day old baby, wrung of all strength and control. I am barely able to push myself up and look around.

My clothes, my beautiful clothes, are singed tatters. My hands and exposed arms look ancient, wrinkled with bags of skin. My head feels surprisingly cool, which likely means my hair has been burned away. I feel … old, old as I have never felt before. The dust begins to stir around my hands, floating up into the air.

“Nooooo…” I quietly moan as I try to crawl away but it is hopeless, Again, I feel as if I am being scorched, tossed and torn apart when the lightning strikes for the third time. When I regain my senses, I am on my back, still alive. A cold drop of rain strikes my forehead, followed immediately by several more. Very quickly, the rain is falling in sheets. It is refreshing and I find enough strength to roll over and push myself upright on my knees.

The courtyard is rapidly becoming a muddy muddle as the rain pours down. The few people who had stayed to watch our contest have taken cover elsewhere. Only she and I remain. I manage a quiet laugh but it sounds like a cackle.

“No more dust, child. That is the end of that trick! I remain alive! The magic will not let me die! You cannot kill me!”

There is a shell of magic power surrounding her. I can see the rain strike it and hear the sizzle as it turns to steam. I have never seen anyone try to hold so much magic inside themselves before now. I do not know if it is my imagination or my eyes growing old but her image seems to shimmer slightly, as if she might dissolve before me.

I have other plans for her. For now, I must recover my magic.

“Stupid Girl! Did you think you could defeat me so simply? I remain alive despite the power of the Gods! You cannot continue to hoard the power for yourself.”

“Why not? I’m doing pretty good so far.”

She attempts to make light of our predicament. I might allow her to continue as she has if not for my need of the magic that she withholds. It would be interesting to see what happens to her.

“Surely, even a fool such as yourself has discovered that you cannot kill me! It is the balance of magic for witches as advanced as we. Even if you do nothing, I will recover but you cannot afford to wait that long. Even now, I can see the strain you are under. You have tried to capture all the magic available and deny it to me. It cannot be done! Surrender the power to me and I will show you pain like none has ever experienced in this world. Do that or do nothing. I will enjoy watching the magic tear you apart.”

She just stands there as the downpour continues around us, trembling from the effort of holding the enormous quantity of magic within herself.

“I know that I can’t kill you. I know the rules,” she growls in a low, strained tone.

“Then what do you hope to achieve?”

“A loophole.”

She falls to one knee, extending both hands towards me. I can actually see the air bend around her hands as she prepares to strike at me. I await the strike with open arms, for it is my salvation and her ultimate doom. I have taken the best she has to give but she has experienced only a token of my abilities. When the strike arrives, I am enveloped with both pain and pleasure, soaking up the power as a sponge does water, filling every part of my body, down to the very marrow of my bones. She smiles at me through gritted teeth.

“It’s not always nice to be the King.”

She snaps her finger.

It all disappears. The pain. The pleasure. Everything. It is as if I am an empty, hollow shell.

“What have … you … done?” I croak, unable to breathe in more than shallow, inadequate, gasps.

She doesn’t answer me right away, appearing to be spent from the effort of whatever she did. I begin to notice other problems. While I felt weak before, I am much weaker now, fighting to keep my balance on my knees. All my joints scream with pain as I sway in place. A strong wind blows and I fall on my side, several bones breaking when I strike the ground. My heart is barely beating. It is growing much darker around me. Cold, so cold.

“Help … me … some … one.”

I can plainly hear the sound of the rain striking the ground around me. The hiss is almost deafening. Now there is the sound of someone sloshing though the mud, moving next to me.

“I did to you what your world did to me. I changed your sex. I may not be able to kill you but you don’t see a lot of two hundred thirty two year old men running around.”

Cannot see.

No breath.

No heart.

No …

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

That took more out of me than I thought it would. Practicing on rats in the barn back on the farm gave me a hint but a person has a lot more cells than a rat. To instantly replace an “X” chromosome with a “Y” chromosome in every cell in Opulessa’s body at the same moment was the hardest thing I had ever done, by far. The lightning strikes brought her power levels down far enough to make her vulnerable but I still had to deliver.

Looking at the tiny, wasted, crumpled, body of the old man in the mud next to me, it’s hard to believe what it used to be. I wish that there had been some other way.

No rest for the wicked. Suck it up, Alexia, old girl. There’s more work to be done before the end of the day.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I was too late.

When I heard that first lightning strike, I thought another bomb had gone off. That’s when people started streaming down the hall at me, hundreds of frightened, panicked people. The wave hit me just as the second bolt landed. Sounded like it struck ten feet away from me. Swear to God. I finally had to fire several rounds into the ceiling to get the crowd to make way. The third strike knocked me on my ass just as I entered the courtyard. Some of the electricity must have bounced around, looking for a ground. Lucky I wasn’t it but I did get in the way and paid the price.

When I came to, it was raining buckets. I had to wipe the mud off my face before I could see anything. What I saw astonished me. What I assumed was the Queen was on her knees in front of the rebel witch. The Queen looked terrible, no hair, clothes in shambles, thin and old. Like really old. Really, really old. Great great great grandmother old. I sure as hell wouldn’t have recognized her if the rebel witch hadn’t been there. I know the Queen wanted to handle this herself but she couldn’t have expected it all to go so far, could she? I brought my rifle up, aiming for the rebel’s head, but I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

That’s when she dropped to one knee, hands out, reaching toward the Queen, who had started to glow all over, a kind of blue green color. I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t know who was winning. Then, in an instant, it happened. The Queen’s body sucked in the blue green glow and then it blew back out. For a fraction of a second, I thought that she was turned inside out but that was crazy.

What was left kneeling on the ground was a gnome like old man, even older than the Queen looked before. I’ve never seen a frailer human being in my life. I thought the rebel witch had done some kind of transport type thing, trading people but then I saw that the old man was wearing the same scraps of the Queens’ gown. The whole thing was fucking unbelievable.

The old guy slowly fell over, landing on his side. The rebel witch crawled over to the guy, leaned down near his ear and looked like she said something, then pushed herself up and started to walk away. In my heart, I knew the Queen was dead.

Time for the other witch to die.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Like an idiot, I thought everybody had left the courtyard. I sure as hell would have when the lightning started zapping down. I didn’t have a lot of control over it. Dumb luck is better than none at all.

The first shot missed, but not by much, whizzing right by my left ear. The next five were dead on target but I managed to deflect them by adjusting the density of the air around me. If the shooter had been closer, that trick wouldn’t have worked. I run back behind the stage, looking for some kind of cover. After I reach it and turn around, I see him, charging towards me. I haven’t recovered enough to do anything to him. There’s a sharp, single crack and a fountain of mud pops in the air two feet in front of the gunman. He stops and fires an automatic burst into the air around him. There’s a second crack and another splash in the mud in front of the gunman. It’s got to be Johnathyn.

“That’s your second warning shot!” I shout. “You better leave before someone gets hurt!”

“You killed her!” he screams. “You don’t think I’m gonna let you get away with that, do you?!”

“Maybe not, but do you want to join her?”

“If you could stop me, you’d have done something by now. I know you witches have to recharge after a big spell. If I’m ever gonna get you, now’s the time!”

He peppers the stage with gunfire, trying to force me out. He stops to swap out the ammo clip when there’s the third, sharp crack. It knocks the shooter down to the ground, on his back, where he stays, not moving, gun about five decileagues away in a deep mud puddle. I carefully edge out from behind the stage and nervously approach him. As I get closer, I can see that the rain is mixing with his blood, forming red, muddy pools. Finally, I get a good look at what’s left of his face.

Even on a good day, there’s nothing I could have done about the big hole in his forehead

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Everyone felt the drop in their magic powers. One of them has died. It would be nice to know which one but it’s too late for me. I am committed and that commitment just became harder. Both the mother and child began to stir, muffled moans rising from their scared throats. I struggle to keep them quiet but it is getting more difficult.

Dierdra is in the larger room, checking with the others. The ones who had been working on the weather were now helping the injured. After the initial attack, the Queen’s Guard disappeared. Apparently, word had quickly spread that witches had taken over the Palace and none of them were interested in challenging us. I don’t know how many people had been captured or what was being done with them but I will find out, once I am done watching over these two. Dierdra enters the room.

“I assume you know.”

“Only that one is dead.”

“It was the Queen. Alexia triumphed but is greatly fatigued. I sent Silva and Pamela out to see if there are any more injured to be brought back here.”

“What does it matter? If they are in this building, they are supporters of Opulessa and their welfare is no concern of ours.”

“You mean like those two?” She is pointing at my patients, who are only here because of what I did.

“That is not what I meant.”

“But it is what you said, Beckwith. Any injured are citizens of our world. If we are to have peace, then we all must be treated alike, bury our differences here and now!”

“That will never happen, Dierdra. Too many have been killed or injured for there to be forgiveness.”

“So what will you tell that woman’s family when they come to see you? Will you ask for their forgiveness? Will you blame her for living next to the Palace? Will you tell the father of that child that he is free to kill you in vengeance for your attack on his family?”

“I did not attack this woman!”

“Not directly, but your recklessness caused them injury just the same. I do not know if Alexia will be able to save them now but you must keep them alive until she arrives.”

“I … I am not certain … there is so much pain … the child suffers so.”

“Then you must take the pain away.”

“I have tried to suppress it but now, with less power …”

“Not suppress. You must accept their pain. Take it upon yourself.”

“Are you MAD?! Look at them! The pain must be unbearable!”

“Then help them bear it, Beckwith. For, if they die, you know your fate.”

I did. The final votes had come in. Unanimous.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The rain had slacked off a bit. It was still coming down but not the deluge it was. The heavy part of the front seemed to be moving off. There was still lightning and thunder in the air but it was just occasional and further east.

The Courtyard was a muddy, sloppy mess. I wade over to where Opulessa’s body lay. What little remained seemed to be almost dissolving in the rain. It was more than a hundred years too late but nature was finally reclaiming its own. I heard a door bang open behind me. Spinning around, slipping and almost falling on my face, I saw it was Johnathyn, slogging toward me, still carrying his long hunting rifle.

“Are you well, Alexia?”

“Yeah, fine.”

He grabbed my arm, making me wince in pain. “This is not ‘fine’. We must find Dierdra, immediately.”

I carefully work my injured arm out of his grip. “I’m not perfect but I’ll be okay. Dierdra’s probably got her hands full and I need to get in there. I thought I said no killing.”

“It would appear the soldier did not receive that message.”

I look down at the body, his lifeless eyes, blood still leaking from the enormous wound caused by the .50 cal ball that hit him. It smashed his skull and took out the back of his head. He wouldn’t back off. Stupid bastard was loyal to the end. We shouldn’t have to lose people like that. Still, he wasn’t going to stop trying to kill me.

“You’re right,” I sigh. “Another useless killing. I appreciate the warning shots, Johnathyn.”

“What warning shots? It was raining like the piss of the Gods. I could barely see anything from up there. You are lucky I was able to strike him at all.”

Dumb luck. Again. I wonder if there really is someone out there, watching over me? Better not test it too often. He or she might be on a ten minute break or something when I really need the help.

“I thought you were supposed to be this great marksman, ‘Can’t Miss Tyber.’”

“Yes, from fifty decileagues in good weather, not from the top of that tower in the middle of a thunderstorm … do you hear that?”

“Hear what ? Yeah, I do.” It’s the voices of people, yelling for help. Hard to hear over the sound of the fading storm. Good catch, Johnathyn. “Where are they coming from?”

We both look around. He points towards a set of large double doors with normal sized doors built in. “The stables, I believe.”

“Let’s go,” I say. He grabs my bad arm, making me wince.

“Sorry. Is this safe?”

I flex the arm. “Don’t know. They’re calling for help. Can we ignore that?”

He sighs. “Apparently not.” He picks up the rifle dropped by the dead soldier and finishes popping the clip into place. “Please, Alexia, let me lead.”

“What ever you say, Dead Eye.”

We hurry as best we can to the large doors. Peering in through low windows, neither of us can see anything suspicious inside and the voices are louder. We pause long enough for me to grab the handle and throw open the smaller door, Johnathyn charges through and I immediately follow.

The smell leaves no doubt that it’s a stable. At least it’s dry and the footing’s better. Sort of. It’s not very bright, just a couple of lanterns. The horses are still restless from the thunderstorm but they’re all in their stalls. No sign of any workers or guards. We can hear voices and pounding on a door at the far end of the building. We look at each other. He hefts the gun and shrugs so we head for the door.

It’s locked from our side and I don’t see any key hanging from a hook nearby. Johnathyn will have to shoot it out. Or maybe …

I pound on the door with my good hand. “STEP AWAY FROM THE DOOR!” I shout. Concentrating, I punch the lock through the door. Johnathyn is impressed.

“It is good to see you are feeling better. Now step back and do not follow too closely.”

He slowly pushes the door open with the muzzle of the gun, crouching and stepping forward into the doorway. He turns left, then right, then steps into the room. I follow.

It is smaller and darker than the other room, no lanterns and a few skylights in the high ceiling. I conjure up a ball of light and float it up high into the air, illuminating the space. The place is a smaller version of where we just were, same stalls, same smell but this time it’s not just horses in the stalls, it’s people. Men and women. Mostly men. All naked and filthy. Some old, some young. There’s a few horses, cows, pigs and chickens mixed in with the people, but that’s not the strange thing.

A few of the people are outside of the stalls, just staring at us. Some of them are still in the stalls but either unconscious or like catatonic; squatted down, holding themselves and rocking back and forth. Still others are acting just like the animals they are mixed with, wallowing in mud with pigs, scratching at the straw with chickens, or their heads in the feed buckets with the cows or horses.

“What is this place?” whispers Johnathyn.

“Damned if I know,” I whisper back.

A man shakily steps forward. “Damned is correct, Alexia.”

I recognize him from the meetings at Patron Miller’s house. “Bickle Rholls? Is that you?”

“Yes, Alexia, it is. Have you beaten Opulessa?”

“Yeah, I have. She’s dead . Or he is. Depends on your point of view.”

Several of the people who had been staring at us collapse in tears, some holding others up while they cry. Rholls grabs the wall of a stall but stays on his feet.

“What goes on here, Rholls?” Johnathyn demands, unnerved by the sight of all these people acting so strangely. It freaked me out too.

“We were prisoners of the Queen,” he replies.

“What about them?” Johnathyn pointed the muzzle at two men and a woman, grunting and snorting while lying with several hogs. If I didn’t know better, I’d say one of the hogs was trying to fuck one of the men and he wasn’t fighting it. In fact, he might actually be encouraging the hog. Rholls just shook his head sadly.

“Some of us have been prisoners longer than others.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We decided we couldn’t leave the door to that room unlocked, not the way some of them were behaving. Zaphod help them if they got outside. Those that were conscious and alert left with us. Johnathyn found a heavy timber and used it to wedge the door shut. Taking one last look around before shutting the door, I have to admit I’ve got no idea whatsoever to do about them. Rholls told us more about what went on in that room. Any regret I felt about what happened to that bitch Opulessa quickly evaporated. What kind of person could even think about things like that, let alone do it to other human beings? I found some feed sacks piled in a corner and whipped up some rudimentary robes for the prisoners. They’ll do until we can get them some real clothes. As we slopped through the courtyard toward the east wing of the Palace, it suddenly struck me. Others had to know about that room. There was feed in the buckets, the crap had to be removed, water brought in. You could be damn sure Opulessa didn’t do all that, not even with magic. I told Johnathyn what I suspected as we walked along.

“You are likely correct, Alexia. Keeping a stable running is hard work.”

“I thought so. Anyone who knew about that place and did nothing is a dead man. No trial, no jury. Dead on the spot. No, no, if I knew how to do it, they’d spend a few weeks as residents and then they’re dead.”

Johnathyn reaches out, gently taking my arm and slowing me down.

“I know you are upset right now. I am also. Those were atrocities beyond description and belief but what about your Truth and Reconciliation Commission?”

“Some things are simply unforgivable, Johnathyn.”

“Are you the one to decide that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have been quick to point out that, once you are done here, you are returning to your world. Are you not done here?”

I pull up short. He’s right. There’s some things to finish up but not much. I could be out of here in a week or two. Back home in New York. The possibility is almost frightening. I start walking again, crossing the threshold back onto dry ground and out of the rain. I turn down a large hallway and head for where the other witches are waiting.

“You’re right. It’s not my place. They’re lucky it isn’t because, if it was, I would have had every one of them hunted down and … hung … what the hell happened?”

There are at least thirty people, mostly men and women but some kids, all of them burned somewhere on their bodies. Arms, legs, backs, chests, combinations of all of the above. This shouldn’t have happened. Dierdra hurries up to me, hugging me briefly.

“Thank Zaphod you are alive! I have heard what you did. Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! I have many questions for you but there is no time now. Can you work? Have your powers been restored?”

I used up a little magic with the lock, light ball and the robes but, now that I was back with the coven, I was feeling better. Nowhere near what I was but better.

“Thanks. Happy to see all of you alive and well. And busy. I’m good, at least for awhile. What went wrong? How did all these people …”

“Beckwith!” Dierdra spat. “She threw the floor drums into the sky and crushed them, filling the air with floor dust just before the bombs detonated.”

“Oh. My. God. All that air and fuel. That’s what we saw.”

“Exactly.”

“Did she know?”

“She did. She did not plan on the cloud of flour being blown away from the Palace and into a group of homes nearby. You have seen the results.”

“Where is she? Is she alive?”

“She survived. I have her tending to the two most seriously injured. A mother and young child. I am surprised that they have lasted this long.”

“Take me to them.”

Dierdra grabbed my hand and lead me to a small room of to the side. It looked like a storage room of some kind. There were two cots and a chair stuffed in, with two badly burned bodies on the cots and Beckwith, eyes closed and face drained of blood, her mouth tightly clenched shut, the fingers of both hands digging into the palms of her trembling hands.

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask, pointing at Beckwith.

“She is absorbing some of their pain.”

“We can do that?”

“Yes. It takes training that you have not had. It is a Healer skill to make a patient more comfortable while another Healer attempts to cure the ill. We all felt the level of magic drop when Opulessa died. It caused us some problems.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Much preferable to the other alternative. We rejoiced at the news of your victory and eventual return to us. What do you wish to do?”

Looking at the two victims of Beckwith’s stupidity, my first thought is “Get me the Hell away from this disaster” but it’s as much my mistake as hers. I should have known she would have tried something like this but I needed her power, her strength of will. I took a risk and busted. No dumb luck this time.

“Okay. Johnathyn!” I shout, turning back to the main room. He’s at my side instantly. “Figure out if any of our friends from the stable are well enough to help you. If they’re too shaky, leave them here but it would be nice if there were two or three who were steady enough to safely hold a gun and not shoot someone. You need to go to the Mess and find out if those guards are still enchanted. If so, they can stay there, if not, you need to collect their guns and ammo. Tell them we do not intend to hurt them, just send them home. If they want to know when, pretty damn fast. Also, see if you can find the prisoners some decent clothes somewhere. And don’t get shot. I need you back here, safe and sound. So does Lee.”

He touches my arm. “As you wish. Do not blame yourself, it was inevitable. You did what you could.” He hurries off. One job done.

“Who are those people?” asks Dierdra.

“Prisoners. Most of them are from Patron Miller’s group. There are others … but that’s for later. We need some triage here.”

“What is that?”

“I need to know what patients are stable and can wait, which ones are stable but need help, which ones are not stable and need help right away but can survive and …” I look over at the mother and daughter on the cot “… which ones are beyond help.”

Beckwith moans loudly and grabs my arm with her sweaty hand. “Do not abandon them!” she hisses through clenched teeth. “I have not kept them alive so long for you to pass judgment on them now!”

“It is not Alexia who passes judgment. You did so with your dangerous actions!” says Dierdra. Beckwith’s hand slide off my arm, returning to its original, trembling position.

“Yes! Yes, it was me! I did it. It … aahhhhhh … was my doing … but they should not die … for my failings. Do not abandon … us, Alexia.”

I lean down near her ear. “No one’s died on my watch when I can do something about it. I don’t plan on starting now. You keep them alive until I can get back.”

Dierdra and I walk away. “Alexia, surely, you do not intend to …”

“Triage, Dierdra, just as I told you. If Beckwith can keep them alive, they’ll get everything I got left. Send others to help if they become available. Have someone get me my computer right away.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

After speaking with all of them, I determined that four of the ex-prisoners were of sound enough mind to be of assistance to me. One of them, Jeremiah Merkel, was familiar with this area of the Palace and he was able to lead us to the storage area for the guards. There we found extra uniforms and weapons.

They exchanged their robes for new uniforms and arms. We were about to leave to meet the guards when it occurred to me that our men and theirs now looked alike. I pick up one of the discarded robes and tear several strips off the bottom, first cutting them with a knife. I hand them out to the four men with me.

“Tie these around your biceps. They will help distinguish you from the other guards should there be trouble.”

They all do as I ask and we are off to find out what was happening. As we near the door, I hold up and hand Rholls my gun.

“It is best that I not appear threatening at first. Hold this for me.”

I position them out of sight around the corner then push the door open just enough to peek into the room. It appears that most of the men remain, though I cannot see all about the room. I finish pushing the door open and step in.

All the men appear in various stages of anguish. The one called Ridgeway approaches me, then pushes me. I try to stay where I am.

“Where’s the Queen?” he demands.

What should I say? He is clearly upset. They may know that things have changed but they do not know how or why. Alexia has taught me that, when in doubt, answer a question with a question.

“Why do you wish to know?”

“You were with her earlier today.” He pulls his hand gun from its holster strapped to his thigh. “I want to know so that I can blow her head off, that’s why.”

“Do you think you can find her? She is a witch. What do you want of her?”

“I want to see her because I remember! Remember all the sick, twisted things she made me do. We ALL can remember.” Several men have picked up their guns.

“So … you wish her dead?”

“Yeah. Dead.”

“And what of your employer? And this world’s government? Do you believe that they will all stand by and do nothing while you attempt to … do what, exactly?”

Another man approaches us. “He’s right, Captain. Colonel Willis wouldn’t let us get away with it. That man’s a true believer if ever there was one.”

“This Colonel Willis you speak of, was he here when the Queen and I visited?”

“Nah, he was out in the Courtyard on the stage.”

Interesting. Perhaps it is time to provide some information.

“The woman who visited you in this room was not Queen Opulessa. She was the witch Alexia pretending to be Queen Opulessa. Our purpose was to keep you all out of harm’s way while Alexia and Opulessa fought. Alexia won. It is her desire that you leave this place, returning to your base to await further developments.”

“What about Colonel Willis? He won’t put up with shit like that,” says Ridgeway.

“Was Colonel Willis the only member of your group not in this room?”

“The only one stationed here. We’ve got other people elsewhere.”

“Then I believe your Colonel Willis is also dead. If you wish, I can send someone with one of your people to show you where he fell.”

Ridgeway signals with his hand for the man who had stepped forward to go and check. I hold up my hand to stop him.

“Without the weapon, if you please. That was why I was sent, to collect your weapons and escort you from the Palace.”

Those who have weapons clutch them tightly. Those who didn’t quickly pick one up. Many are pointing theirs at me. Ridgeway places his hand gun near my face.

“There is no fucking way we’re disarming. You think you can take ’em? Give it your best shot.”

I slowly reach up and push his hand away from my face.

“I have armed men outside, equipped as all of you are. We can have what I believe you call a ‘fire fight’ in this small room, which would leave many dead and most everyone else injured. I do not have as many men as you so, it is likely you would win. For the moment. What would happen next would be extremely unpleasant.” I hold up my hand, displaying my ring. “I am married to Alexia. She is my wife and I am her husband. We have a child. Should I die or even be injured, her rage would be epic. None of you would survive her wrath. Remember, she killed Opulessa. That is the measure of her power. In addition, there are twelve other witches on our side, all just about a hundred decileages away from where we stand. They would also show no mercy.”

I step back and raise my voice so that all can plainly hear me. “You have my promise that none of you will be injured if you cooperate with me. Fail to do so and I will not be responsible for your fates. It is your choice. Choose now.”

One of the men in the back pulls back on the lever on his gun, making a loud click-clacking sound. I believe it loads a shell into the firing chamber.

“Husband, huh?” he sneers. “Seems like we got ourselves a hostage.”

“Where would you go?” I ask. “This is not your world. There is no place for you to hide. We are sending you back to your compatriots to await transportation back to your world. Should you cause my wife trouble, she need only snap her fingers and you are all transformed into mindless beasts. I assume you all know about the smaller stables hidden in the larger stables off the courtyard.”

From the shared looks, I would say that I am correct. “Alexia is more powerful than Opulessa. She will have her way, no matter the protest.” I lean in closer to Ridgeway. “As her husband, I know only too well.”

“A real bitch, eh’?”

“Of the highest order. You have my promise of safe passage.”

He considers what I have said for a moment. “What if you’re lying to us?”

“Then the lucky ones will die. Should I need to call for her help, she can strike from where she is right now. You will never even see her. You have heard the story that she decapitated a man from half a league away? It is true; I was there when it happened. Took us hours to clean up the mess it made.” I look around the room, inspecting the walls and ceiling. “I assume the blood would wash right off these stone walls. Lucky thing.” I turn to face Ridgeway. “What is your answer, Captain?”

He stares at me for a moment, then turns to face his men, his eyes slowly passing from man to man, looking for what I cannot guess but I can feel the tension increase as time moves on. Eventually he turns back to face me, sighs and gives me his handgun, handle first.

“Just get us out of this God damn freak show alive.”

I place the gun in my belt. “You have chosen wisely, Captain. If your Colonel Willis had been equally as level headed, he would still be alive. It is best to not trifle with powerful beings beyond our understanding.”

He nods his head in agreement. “Witches.”

“I was speaking of women in general but it also applies to witches.”

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

By the time I return to the little room, Beckwith was spent but mother and daughter were still alive. It now was my job to keep them that way. Mine and Dierdra’s. Leila leads Beckwith away and Correia replaces her for the moment.

“Just like before, let’s get them to the kitchen,” I say with more confidence than I possess.

“Alexia,” whispers Correia. “How will you ever …”

“We’ve done this already, just on a smaller scale. It’ll just take longer, That’s all.” I smile at her.

“If you say so,” she answers without conviction.

“I do say so. If you’re not up to the challenge …”

She looks shocked, as if I had slapped her. “No. I am. I will not fail you!”

Dierdra leans in. “It is we who must not fail them. All is as ready as it can be, Alexia.”

“Then let’s move.”

Steinvild had come off security, trading with Sarah and each of us took a corner of the cot with the woman on it. Working together, we each slowly levitated a corner, steadying it with our hands and carefully move through the room toward the kitchen. This part of the Palace had a rudimentary infirmary, enough for typical small emergencies but the big medical facility was at the Winthrop Group compound. If it was too much for them, the victim was sent back home for expert care.

All I had to offer was my trusty laptop.

We had turned the kitchen into a makeshift operating room, as clean as we could scrub it. So far, it had been adequate for the injuries we treated. Most of the other patients had already gone back home with interesting stories to tell. A few were kept in the infirmary because their burns were too deep to do a skin graft and expect it to take all at once. There were going to need to be several layers laid down over time. Of course, if things go well, I can speed the whole process up quite a bit, reducing exposure to germs but these two are a whole other level of trouble.

I first need to clean out all the burned areas, removing the burnt flesh and clothes from the good skin. The next thing is to disinfect and the third is to find some intact skin, remove a small patch, make it grow and transplant onto a damaged area that had been prepped to accept the transplant. Rinse and repeat. About a couple hundred times.

Because I can get inside the wound, it’s pretty easy for me to get right up in the injured area and tell what has to go and what skin can be saved, along with internal damage like lungs, heart, eyes, whatever.

Piece of cake.

It takes over three hours to treat both of them. The worst is over and I think we kept them both knocked out, so little or no pain. Now we need to avoid infection and keep adding layers of skin. With luck, they’ll be home in a week. After moving the cots into the infirmary, I thanked and congratulated everyone on a job well done.

Johnathyn was waiting for me when I came out. He bent down and gave me a brief but intense kiss, the kind that leaves you longing for more.

“Whhooo. Hello to you too. How’d it go with the guards?”

“Just as we had hoped. They are all on a wagon headed back to the Winthrop Group compound, along with the body of their leader. Without their weapons.”

“Wonderful! How did you pull that one off?”

“I threatened them with the baddest assed witch on the planet.”

“That’s baddest ass. Whatever, as long as it worked. I can be bad cop to your good cop any day. What did you do with the guns and ammo?”

He pulled a light chain from around his neck, on which hung a key.

“There are only two keys, I obviously have one, the other is for you.”

“Hang on to it for a bit longer. I don’t seem to have any pockets in this outfit.”

He snakes a arm around my waist, hugging me close, resting his hand on my butt. “I know that you are very tired …”

“I’m not THAT tired.”

“Yes. You are. I am leaving shortly to return to the farm to pick up Lee.”

“Johnathyn! It’s not safe yet!”

“It is safe enough and she can be of help, taking care of the injured.”

“They look bad and the next couple of days are not going to be pretty.”

“So much the better. Best to see the consequences of war with clear eyes, don’t you think? Besides, she will worry more about us if we leave her at the farm.”

I yawn widely, holding it for several milicycles. Yeah, I’m not tired. “It’s your call, Johnathyn, but take some help with you, just in case.”

He kisses me lightly on the forehead. “As you wish, my Queen.”

I punch him none too softly in the chest. “Cut that out!”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We take shifts, keeping the injured as pain free as possible. There are six people left, four that will probably go home in the morning and then the woman and her daughter. They are all asleep and I want them to stay that way.

It’s 2:00 in the morning. Silva, Bellah and Britanna are watching the perimeter along with some of the people we found in the stables. I still have no idea what to do with the ones who are in bad shape. Where’s a head doctor when you need one?

There’s been a little activity by some of the Queen’s Guard but it was disorganized and the girls took care of it. We got a report from the driver of the wagon who took the Winthrop Guards back to back to their base. There was a bunch of the Queen’s Guard hanging around outside and he thought he saw First Minister Dupree there too. It would make sense for them to gather there. I’m going to have to deal with them before they get a chance to get organized. Right now, I’ve got patients to take care of.

I took the woman and daughter myself. I’ve got more energy than the rest of the coven and these two will need it. What I wouldn’t give for a little bit of morphine right now. At least the skin grafts seem to be okay. I was able to stimulate the undamaged skin to grow quickly but it stressed their systems and I can’t do it again until they get a chance to heal and recover Even with magic, deep burns don’t heal overnight. I hear a soft knocking at the Infirmary door. I turn and look. It’s Silva with a young man, twisting a hat in his hands.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“This is Marteen Cantell. He thinks that the woman and her child are his family.”

Great. I wasn’t looking forward to this. I stand up, smoothing my skirt. I’d changed out of the cat suit. It was too distracting. For everybody. Someone found a servants dress that fit well enough.

“They look worse than they are,” I say, trying to lighten the blow. “They’re almost past the danger period. It’s just a matter of time and they both will be as good as they were before the fire.”

He nervously edges past me, keeping his eyes averted until he reaches their bedside. I heard him gasp, then begin to sob.

“I-I-I am not-not certain. They-ey look so …”

Silva scoops a plain gold ring off the table next to the woman and hands it to him.

“Here is her ring.”

“Thank-thank you.”

She steps back away from the man as he tightly holds the ring in his hand.

“What good does that do?” I whisper to her. “It’s a plain gold band, looks just like mine. How could he tell if it’s his wife’s?”

“These are not ordinary rings, they are first anniversary rings. If the love is true, the rings know it. They are drawn to each other. He will know.”

He stands next to the woman, searching for something recognizable in her burned, swollen face. Slowly, he nods his head, tears in his eyes. “Yes … it is her … both of them,” he sobs. “My darling Marta, my dearest Codii. How could this happen to such innocents?”

Now it’s my turn.

“Mr. Cantell, it was an accident. No one intended to harm either your wife or little Codii. I take full responsibility …”

“No.”

We all turn to see that Beckwith has entered the room. She strides right up to Cantell. “It is I who am responsible.”

Cantell appears confused. “I do not understand, how …”

I jump in. “Beckwith here has spent the most time caring for your family. She’s spent hours keeping them as pain free as possible. She is the one most responsible for them being alive today.”

Cantell falls to his knees in front of her, grabbing and repeatedly kissing her hands. “Thank you! Bless you, Mistress Beckwith! We cannot repay your efforts on our behalf! I am eternally in your debt.”

He returns to kissing her hands. Beckwith is shocked and tries to pull her hands free from his intense grip. I quickly step to her side.

“Now, Beckwith, be gracious. You deserve his thanks.”

“But … I …” she protests.

“Forgiveness comes only through me,” I whisper in her ear. “You’re not there yet.”

She scowls at me but doesn’t say anything, letting Cantell continue declaring his gratitude for all that she had done. The little girl makes a quiet, high pitched moan. Cantell is kneeling at her bedside in milicycles.

“Is there something wrong?” he anxiously asks.

“No,” I answer. “She’s fine, well, as fine as can be expected. I won’t lie to you, Mr. Cantell. Neither of them are ready to go home right now and won’t be for days but I’m certain that they’ll both walk out of here completely whole. I will not rest until they do.”

Cantell continues to look at his daughter for several milicycles, then sighs. “Are you the witch who defeated Opulessa?” he asks, almost too quietly to hear.

“Yes, I am.”

He pushes up, using the cot to help him get upright. He’s still looking down at his injured family.

“My family was hurt during that fight?”

“Yes, they were.”

“And you claim it was an accident?”

“I don’t claim, it was an accident.”

Now he looks me in the eye, standing as tall as he can, chest out and chin up. “Then I suggest, Mistress, that you be more careful in using your powers in the future.”

Both Silva and Beckwith gasp. I’m not from around here but I know when I’m being dissed. He’s got to be very brave or very stupid.

“I understand, Mr. Cantell. I’ll take your suggestion under serious consideration.”

He relaxes ever so slightly, happy to have gotten away with it. “That is all I can ask. May I stay with my family?”

I bring Beckwith over with a wave of my finger. “Beckwith will see to finding you some place to stay, along with your baby.”

He bows towards me. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Beckwith hustles him out of the room. Silva slides quietly next to me.

“I am certain that he was distraught when he said what he did, Alexia.”

“Yeah, he was, but he was also right. Can’t get pissed at a guy when he’s right.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

T-bone steak, medium rare, about 10 ounces. I never ate anything like that at supper when I lived in New York. Now I’m having it for lunch. Of course, when I was in New York, I was watching my figure. You have to hand it to the U.S. military. When they deploy overseas, they always bring America with them. Now the Winthrop Group has gone one better. They brought America to another world.

Once you cross the wire into their compound, you might as well be in Nebraska. ESPN on the televisions, one week delay, of course. The latest movies on BluRay. An ice cream bar at every meal. Fresh vegetables even in the winter. Texas, Carolina, Chicago and St. Louis barbecue. I put on at least ten pounds when I’m on assignment. There’s a complete gym and steam room on base. Winthrop may be responsible but the Consortium is paying for it.

I’d just sat down to enjoy my meal when Dupree comes in and stomps his way to me, his pet Rachet on his heels. I sigh. There is no peace in this job.

“First Minister. What can I do for you?”

He sits down opposite me, Dilgar standing silently behind him.

“You can order your soldiers to join mine so that we may retake the Palace and return to power, White! It has been four days! If we wait any longer, it may be too late!”

“Why do you need my men? There’s less than a hundred and, frankly, most of them aren’t really interested in helping.”

“They are soldiers! They will do as they are ordered!”

“They are mercenaries, First Minister, and they don’t jump simply because I tell them to. Most of them are still very upset about the way they were treated by the Queen.”

“Of which I was completely unaware and am equally upset, Mr. White.”

Bullshit! He knew, they all knew. Hell, even I knew something was up, I just didn’t know what and honestly didn’t care, as long as the contract terms were met. As long as deliveries were made in full and on time.

Now that’s blown to Hell.

“I’m sure that your very upset, First Minister. The question is, over what? I may be misinformed but, historically, isn’t this exactly how you get a new Queen. Someone comes along and defeats the old Queen. The Queen is dead, long live the Queen, that sort of thing?”

“Yes, but I had hoped we had outgrown assassination as a way to change Queens.”

“Really? What was the new way you all had agreed to follow?”

Dupree gives me a ‘go to Hell’ look. “These are things we do not discuss with outsiders.”

The politician’s version of ‘Fuck Off’.

“That’s unfortunate, particularly when you’re asking for help from ‘outsiders’. Your choice of course, First Minister.”

The business man’s version of “Eat shit and like it”.

“It is unlikely that you will be able to continue your mining operations with Alexia on the throne.”

Translation: “Better the devil you know.”

“Certainly the contract would need to be renegotiated but reasonable people can reach a reasonable arrangement.”

Translation: “Everyone has their price.”

“Alexia should not even be here. She is from your world. She is not even a ‘she’. Do you not feel some obligation to fix this problem?”

That’s the first straight forward thing he’s said. Must be desperate.

“To be honest, First Minister, I do. Unfortunately, I don’t see how our involvement is going to change anything. Assuming you do defeat her, there is no one to replace the old Queen. You can certainly find another witch, Alexia has at least a dozen helping her, but whoever it is will not be as dominant as Opulessa was. You’re in for years, if not decades of instability. If you don’t defeat her, then she assumes the throne and is upset with the Consortium for backing you. Neither situation benefits us. We prefer stability over all other options. Nothing you can do will give us that stability. Only backing Alexia gives us that possibility.”

“You do not think that your participation in the plan to kill her family may not have her thinking twice about joining forces with you?”

“It very well may but it was you who demanded we do so once the rebel plan was discovered. She’ll be more interested in you than us. Her interest can be fatal. The woman controls lightning for God’s sake!”

“I have seen more from Opulessa. So you refuse to help us?”

“I don’t really see what we can do to help you that doesn’t potentially hurt the Consortium.”

“Can you not see beyond your own avarice?”

“I’m a company man, Dupree. So to speak. How do you plan to kill her anyway? She seems to be a pretty tough cookie.”

“We can send enough men to overwhelm her. It takes only one to succeed.”

How imaginative. I’m sure he’ll have a lot of volunteers for this job. I can just hear him now. ‘Men, she may kill a hundred of you, that’s why we need a hundred and one. Let me know how it all works out.’ The brute force method of conflict resolution.

“You realize, Dupree, that if you fail, you’re signing your own death warrant.”

“I am likely doomed anyway. Being First Minister marks me for death. No First Minister has survived the death of his Queen. Add to that, my involvement in the death of the witch’s family. It comes down to me or her, and if she kills me, she will come for you next. It is in your personal interest to provide me with all assistance possible.”

“There’s where your wrong, Dupree. You are stuck here, I am not. Even if she surrounds this post, we’ve still got an enormous back door. You’re welcome to join us.” The look of horror that he was unable to suppress was my answer. “I see not. As you wish. We can be back to my world in less than ten minutes. The entire staff is already here; ready to move at a moments notice.”

“She could follow you.”

“Not with our equipment she won’t. Password coded. Besides, over there she returns to Alex Thompson, ordinary schlub. Not much of a threat.”

He pushes away from my table and stands up. “So, we have come to a parting of the ways.”

I stand up too. “Not necessarily. If she comes here, I can act as a negotiator, try to work out some kind of deal.”

He gives me a tight smile. “I believe that my best interests are served without your help.”

I shrug. “Suit yourself.” I hate for things to end on a bad note. “You and your men are free to stay here, for what that’s worth.”

“Thank you, but no. Once we can get organized, it is best that we depart for the interior of the country and set up our own government.

Going the guerilla route. Guess it’s worked for some over the years.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Johnathyn and Leeanna returned without incident several days ago. Lee dismounted and immediately ran to find me, hugging me fiercely when we met. Her father had told her all about our exploits, filtering out things not appropriate for young ears but she used her imagination to fill in a lot of the blanks. She wasn’t far off. It’s scary when someone knows you well enough to do that.

I put her right to work in the infirmary, mostly because it was easier to keep an eye on her there. After being initially grossed out, she jumped right in, taking a special interest in taking care of Codii Cantell and her baby brother, Emery. Codii has recovered more quickly than her mother, primarily because young children are still growing and developing naturally. I don’t have to push her that much harder. Once Codii was conscious, Lee practically took over, becoming more like a big sister to both children. Marteen Cantell appreciated her help because it gave him more time to stay with his wife. If that thing Silva said about the rings was true, then they did their job. Marteen was devoted to Marta, doing everything he could to help her. They both had other family members who were in and out a lot. The last couple of days, Marta has been our last patient and she’s well on the way to recovery.

I may have been keeping her longer than necessary because it allowed me to put off the next job, going after Redmond Dupree and the rest of his people. Almost immediately after Opulessa’s death, people started showing up, offering to help, even to join up. We picked up a few more witches, one Forty Seven from the east that Dierdra had heard of who was visiting family nearby when we attacked. Beckwith wasn’t happy but kept her peace, not wanting to upset me any more than she already had. The background level of magic was getting stronger, not like before Opulessa died but it was noticeable.

More importantly, people other than witches started to volunteer. I left most of that to Dierdra to organize but she gave me regular reports about the numbers. I told her that I wasn’t interested in people who were switching sides, not yet at least. That can come later. People, particularly women, who had been kept down, who wanted to rise up and become someone, that was fine. We didn’t need a bunch of soldiers either. That may, regrettably, come later too but not yet.

Steinvild and Emlilly were put in charge of Intelligence and they immediately began getting reports from the countryside about Dupree and the old government taking refuge at the Winthrop Group headquarters not far from Glory, which made a certain amount of sense, particularly if they were planning a counter attack of some kind. The girls actually did a couple flyovers to check things out and there was no response of any kind, which was good news. Frankly, I was expecting drone attacks by now.

Silva and Correia took on the job of getting the Palace repaired, at least the damage that we did. Some of the other areas, in particular Opulessa’s quarters, went downhill quickly after she died. I think it was because she was using her magic to maintain some stuff that went poof when her powers were depleted by her attacks on me and the lightning strikes. They are going to leave those repairs for later, if ever.

Beckwith took the job suitable to her personality. Internal Security. It galled me that we had to do it but Dierdra convinced me it was necessary. Too many unknowns, too many people offering to help, too many potential agendas. We needed someone to sort it all out. I also wanted to know who knew about Opulessa’s special stables and any other similar activities.

Turns out that the stables were kind of unspoken common knowledge among both the staff and the government. No one would admit to specific knowledge but the rumors were rampant. Unfortunately, the rumors didn’t touch the reality. Pamela and Olga accepted the impossible job of helping the survivors from that unspeakable place. Most of the people from Patron Miller’s group have recovered fairly quickly and well. Bickle Rholls has been an immense help to us all. Unfortunately, that doesn’t include Patron Miller himself. He was an egotistical buffoon but something happened in that place that utterly broke him. He hasn’t said what it was and no one is pushing him but it had to be pretty awful.

Johnathyn. I can’t say enough about Johnathyn. Any task I give him, he does. Any question I ask, he gets the answer. Any advice I ask for, he gives, whether I like the advice or not. And at night, when I drag myself to bed, he offers comfort and solace, plus, if we’re both not beat right into the ground, some unbelievably great sex, though I like to think I give as well as I get. I mean, I do know what a man likes.

The day has finally come that Marta Cantell has recovered enough to go home. Her hair has regrown but it’s short. Her skin is soft and white, not scarred and burned. She asked me to take her to the front gate where her husband and family were waiting for her. She was still a little unsteady due to all that time in bed so I agreed. As we walk through the halls, I notice that there are fewer people around than usual but it is near lunch time.

“You sure you don’t want to stay for lunch? I think it’s some kind of spring vegetable soup and fruit along with cheese and black bread but don’t hold me to that.”

“No thank you, Mistress.”

“Look, I’ve told you, call me Alexia. You’ve been through hell because of me and I’m not your superior.”

“It does not seem proper, Mistress. As for my misfortune being your fault, I know the truth. It was not your doing but it was you who restored me.”

“I wasn’t the only one. Lots of different people had a hand in it, including Marteen. I think you’ve got a winner with that one.”

“If I may be so bold, as do you with Johnathyn.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that. Guess we’re both lucky in love.”

When we reach the courtyard, the ground is dry but uneven. I offer her my arm and she takes it, slowly walking together over the rough ground towards the main entrance. It’s a beautiful, sunny, late spring day. You can smell the flowers in the air, though there are none in the courtyard. It’s still a mess from the attack. You can see the scorch marks on the ground from the lightning strikes. I stop at the impact point of the third strike, where Opulessa died.

Dierdra had what little remained of the body buried in an unmarked grave. She did it herself and only she knows the location. Just looking around, I realize it was just a little over a week ago but it feels like a month. There’s been so much done and there’s so much to do. Looking more closely at the exact spot where she died, it seems more barren, more damaged than the ground around it. I wonder if grass will ever grow here again.

“She was evil,” says Marta.

“But beautiful,” I add.

“She was not beautiful, she was attractive. Living so close to the Palace, I saw her frequently. I could tell the difference.”

“I’ve never heard someone make that distinction before. What’s the difference between beautiful and attractive?”

“Beauty reflects one’s inner nature, acceptance of who and what you are. A beautiful person does not put on airs. An attractive person is focused on the outside, the surface, the appeal to others, seeking attention, ignoring, even hiding, what is inside.”

“That’s pretty darn observant for someone as young as you.”

“We are of similar age, Mistre … Alexia.”

“I guess we are though Zaphod knows I feel older, what with all that’s happened.”

“Yet you remain the most beautiful woman in the land.”

“Wait a minute! There is no way that I’m the most beautiful woman in the entire country! Technically, I was not even born female.”

“So I have heard. I have heard and seen much in the last few days, often when others thought I was asleep. It is said among our people that you cannot fight your basic nature. Opulessa was evil but she fought not to appear so. She wanted all to think that she was not evil so she tried to attract their attention, to have a perfect face, to have perfect clothes, to have all look upon her and say ‘how could one who looks as she does be evil?’”

We were nearing the door but Marta stops and turns toward me.

“You do not call attention to yourself, you do the work that others may try to avoid, you accept blame when you are not at fault, you wear a simple servants dress, you make no effort to improve your appearance ….”

“I’m not that unkempt, you just caught me at a busy time.”

“Yet, with no effort, by your basic nature, you have achieved what Opulessa desperately sought. Your beauty comes from inside, reflecting what you are and who you are. It is not dependant upon others.”

“You’re not bad yourself, Marta. Let me get this.”

I wave my hand and the long timber locking the huge wooden doors together floats up and out of the wrought iron cradle attached to the back of both doors. It drops to the ground with a soft thud. I make a pushing motion with my right hand and the doors begin to swing open. We both step toward the widening gap in the doors.

“Remember,” I say. “If either you or Codii have any problems of any kind, you come right back and we’ll …”

A tremendous roar of cheers erupts when Marta and I clear the swinging doors. People are packed around the large stone paved square in front of the Palace, ten maybe fifteen deep. Men and women, hanging out of nearby windows, some even on the roofs of the surrounding buildings, all shouting and cheering, calling out my name.

Marteen Cantell walks up, leading Codii by the hand. Leeanna is walking right behind him, carrying baby Emery. Marteen kisses his wife and she takes Codii’s free hand as Lee hands the baby off to Marteen and steps back.

The Cantell family turns to face me. Just then, my Coven emerges from the crowd and line up behind the Cantells. Dierdra is in the center. I see some new faces and notice one old face not present. They are all smiling broadly.

Clearly, something is up.

Leeanna walks over from where she was standing, taking up a position five decileagues to my left. I start to walk towards her but she puts up a hand, palm forward, stopping me. She points behind me and I turn, finding Johnathyn standing next to me.

“What the HELL is going on here!” I shout over the cheering crowds. He leans down close to my ear.

“It is your coronation! Dierdra knew you would never agree to it.”

“Damn straight I wouldn’t agree to it! I can’t be the Queen! I’m – I’m leaving as soon as I can. You know that. SHE knows that!”

“It does not matter. The people demand it. They have always had a Queen. It is all they know. You defeated Opulessa so you are the new Queen.”

“No! Dierdra can be Queen. She’s one of you. She’d do a much better job than I would! She’s older … wiser. If it’s a matter of one person beating another, we can Indian Wrestle for the job.”

“To the death?”

“It’s got to be to the death? Couldn’t we just cut cards or something?”

I look up into his handsome, smiling face, hoping for him to tell me a way out of this mess. He shakes his head ever so slightly and leans in even closer.

“I am sorry, but there is no other way. Accept this with grace and dignity, my Wife … my Queen.”

Then he kisses me and the crowd goes even wilder. The noise echoing off the nearby buildings, quickly becoming almost painfully loud. Marta releases Codii’s hand and cover the baby’s ears with both of her hands. You can hear people laughing and the cheering drops down a couple of notches but it’s still deafening. Dierdra steps forward two paces, turns to face the crowd and raises both hands high above her head. The crowd falls silent almost instantly.

“I GIVE YOU THE ONCE AND FUTURE QUEEN! MAY SHE LIVE AND REIGN FOREVER! I PRESENT TO YOU … QUEEN … ALEXIA!!!

The Cantells bow and curtsey before me, as do Leeanna and Johnathyn. The Coven is next and, finally, all the people in the crowd. This lasts just milicycles and the cheering returns, just as loud as before as everyone rises up. Johnathyn returns to my side, taking my hand.

“Is that it?” I shout to him.

“Yes. It was all that Dierdra thought you would stand for.”

She got that right. I’ve never been much for ceremony and programs.

“What is your First Command?” he screams at me.

“My what?”

“Your First Command. It is tradition.”

What can I say? “Make love, not war.” “Let there be peace in our time.” “Spay and neuter your pets.” I look around and see the size of the crowd. A crazy idea occurs to me. The more I look round, thinking about the vibe I’m getting off the huge group of believers, the more sense it makes.

Why the hell not?

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Someone was knocking on the door of the tiny room that White had assigned me. It was barely ten decileagues square, including the indoor bathroom.

“First Minister! Mr. White wishes to meet with you.”

It is Dilgar. At least he has remained loyal. Many others have abandoned me. Two thirds of the Council is all that remains. I know the others were not killed for I saw them with my own eyes after Opulessa died. They just decided that their fates were better served by severing their connection to me. They will pay for that after we defeat this usurper.

As will White and his associates. They could make this so much easier. While their numbers are depleted and I can understand their reluctance to do so, the help of the Winthrop Group would be invaluable. They make up in other world equipment what they lack in field knowledge and I can provide the field knowledge.

And the way he treats me. Taking all sorts of actions without first consulting with me. It is not like I have anything else to do while waiting for my troops to gather. We practice drills outside the Winthrop fences during the day and I spend my evenings inside the fences.

The troops understand the necessity of that. It appears that I am afraid of these so called witches but that is hardly the truth. The facts are that I am the last vestige of civil authority in the land and the most vital thing to do right now is keep me safe and protected from those witches, no matter the cost. The men outside these walls would die to protect me.

As we hurry along the pristine hallway toward their Command Center, I worry about why I have been summoned. These emergency meetings are rarely good news. When we reach the doors to their secure area, our way is blocked by two burly armed guards.

“You know you people aren’t allowed back here. Why don’t you both just run away and …”

“Do you know to whom you are speaking?” barks Rachet. My ever loyal Dilgar Rachet.

“Yeah, I know ‘to whom I am speaking’. You’re the little tin pot dictator who let that bitch queen Opulessa run wild! Do you know that …” the radio attached to the band across his chest beeps several times as he reaches up and touches his right ear and listens for a milicycle, then he frowns. “You two can go right in. White’s orders.”

They both step aside, the door opens and we enter. The room is not much larger than my quarters but it is full of all kinds of complex equipment and large framed pictures but the pictures moved! A guard approaches us and directs us to follow him. We do and are quickly escorted to Don White. He is seated in front of one of those picture frames with a moving picture. It appears to be a landscape of some kind. He is tight lipped.

“Ahh Dupree. Prompt as always. I thought you might like to see this. We recorded it a few minutes ago.”

“Recorded?”

“Ohh brother, this won’t be easy. We have devices that take pictures and send them here. They are located in various places along the main road to this building. No two cameras take the same photo though there is some overlap.”

“You are telling me that these moving photos are showing us what is happening right now, outside this building? That is amazing!”

“Yeah, a miracle of modern science. More important is this.”

He reaches down and pushes a button. A new image appears but it was from such an angle and it moved in such a way that it seems to be from the point of view of a bird, looking down upon a very long line of wagons full of all kinds of people; young, old, men and women, children. As it flies over the wagons, it becomes clear that there are thousands of people traveling in the wagons, wherever they were going. Suddenly, an old woman’s face fills the picture frame and then the framed portrait turns black and stays that way until White pushes another button, revealing another portrait of someone I did not recognize.

“What does all that mean?” I ask.

White does not answer me immediately so I ask again. This time he answers.

“That was video from something we call a Drone. It flies in the air, like a bird but we can see what it sees in real time. We added them to the inventory a couple of months ago but have only been using them at night. Mostly at night anyway. Two of them have been weaponized. Just in case. Because of the change in circumstances, we decided to deploy them in daylight and monitor the areas around Glory, including this compound. Those wagons you saw number about five hundred. There are more on horseback and on foot. They’re headed this way but they sure as hell don’t look like an army.”

“I would agree. What about the old woman? What happened to the picture?”

Again, White said nothing for several milicycles but he eventually spoke up while staring at a smaller blank picture frame.

“That Drone, one of the two weaponized ones, by the way, was at least eight hundred feet in the air … sorry, about four hundred decileagues. We lost the signal so it likely malfunctioned and crashed.” He looks up at me. “Or it ran into an old lady who just happened to be flying by on the way to a quilting bee. First Minister Dupree … do you know something about witches that we don’t?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Alexia was walking along in the front of the column of wagons, striding with youthful vigor, still wearing the servant’s dress, though she had me retrieve what she called her ‘cat suit’. She planned to change when she reached the Winthrop Group compound. She could have ridden a wagon. She could have simply flown. It is only ten leagues from Glory. She decided to walk because it made, what she called ‘good copy’ and ‘PR you couldn’t buy’.

Sometimes, I think she says things like that simply to prevent me from arguing with her.

Her First Command had been that anyone who wanted to put a final end to the reign of terror and abuse that had been led by Opulessa but aided by First Minister Dupree and his henchmen was to follow her to the Winthrop Group compound. She had smartly left an opening for people to decline but tradition required that her First Order be immediately obeyed.

Though, it had been a very long time since the last First Command, which, I believe history recorded as something about eating the roasted bodies of Opulessa’s defeated enemies.

While we clearly were not a group of armed men prepared for battle, there were a few guns among the many thousands who traveled along the road this day. Alexia also had some of the other witches fly what she call “Cover Air Patrol” to keep track of what was going on around us and, more importantly, ahead of us. That was how Olga found the large, strangely shaped object in the air ahead of her. She chose to capture it and bring it down to show Alexia, who did not seem as surprised as the rest of us to see it. In fact, I would describe her reaction as smug satisfaction, odd as that may be.

She had me bring her the backpack and, while I drove a barrowed wagon and she rode in the back, she proceeded to quickly disassemble the device into several smaller pieces, all of which were stored in a wooden box. She returned to walking while I continued to drive the wagon, full of the original assortment of city folk, some of whom I believe were visiting the countryside for the first time in their lives. When I suggest this to her as she walks beside me, she replies “Johnathyn, I can relate to that.”

Most of the way, the atmosphere is almost like a party, but as we draw nearer to the Compound, you can feel the tension increase. The witches move up and down the line of wagons, telling everyone to remain calm, to take no action, that they would protect the people from harm. Some men try to argue with them but it was pointed out that women and children were present and they do not wish to make them targets by drawing fire their way. They also politely state that any man who starts anything would lose the use of his hand for months to come.

The combination of the two arguments seems to be effective.

All of the other witches come and go while Alexia leads the way. They come up and speak with Alexia for a moment or two, then fall back, their assignment having been given. Eventually, Beckwith comes forward.

“I missed you earlier today,” Alexia says.

“I… was busy … important … interview,” she pants, having run to make her way to the front.

Alexia threw her arm over her shoulder. “I’m sure you were. Appreciate the effort. Who should we find in there waiting for us?”

Beckwith seems surprised but she quickly recovers. “Certainly First Minister Dupree. I would expect several of the other ministers though not all. The current representative of the Consortium is Don White. He is … like you.”

“An outsider?”

“Yes, an outsider.”

“I’m curious, Beckwith. How long must a person live in this world to no longer be an outsider?”

“It does not matter. Outsiders will always be outsiders.”

“Sounds like Nantucket.”

“Where is that?”

“An island in my world. They’ve got an annoying superior provincial attitude and no good reason for it. I’ve got an important job for you, if you’re up for it.”

“Why me?” she asks, suspicion practical dripping from the question.

“Because it’s likely the most important thing about this little trip and it goes completely against your nature. If you can do this, it’ll make up for your failure at the wall.”

“My failure?!”

“Yes, your failure. You screwed up. You chose to freelance instead of sticking to the plan. We weren’t ready for it and people were hurt. You know you fucked up but your pride refuses to let you admit it. I know a lot about out of control pride.”

Beckwith snorts but says nothing else. They walk on, side by side for almost a quarter cycle before Beckwith speaks.

“What is this important ‘job’?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Dupree had his troops take up position outside our main gate, hiding behind a group of overturned wagons. The Winthrop Group troops were inside the compound. Dupree’s troops were concentrated in the front but they completely surrounded the Compound, just to be safe.

When the first wagon arrived, it stopped about a hundred yards away from the center of Dupree’s lines and then the other wagons pulled in next to it, one going left the other right, back and forth, until they stretched as wide as our boundary. Then the second row started, then the third. And so on, filling the field in front of the Compound completely.

Yet more came, lining the road both ways. In the end, there were thousands of people. If they all decide to rush us, we’d be overwhelmed, though the casualties would be horrendous.

“What do you want us to do, Mr. White?”

“Nothing for the moment, Captain Ridgeway. We’re safe for now. Is the gateway warmed up?”

“Yes, Sir. The techs say it’ll take at least twenty minutes to completely evacuate. They also say it’ll burn out the gateway.”

“If we have to bug out, the gateway has to be destroyed anyway. Alright, Captain, tell everyone to remain calm and cool. If there’s an attack, they have to get through the locals before they get to us.”

“Sir, if I can speak freely, they’ve got witches on their side. Anything could happen and I mean anything. That crowd includes women and children. Little children, Mr. White. My men are not firing on little kids.”

“No problem shooting women though? Let’s hope no one gets shot, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ridgeway goes back outside as I and some other techs monitor the video feeds. I can’t sit around waiting for reports. I’m the impatient sort. Nothing happens for almost ten minutes before there is a stirring among the crowd. A lot of them are looking and pointing skyward. We have to switch cameras a couple of times before seeing what the fuss is about.

The witches are coming. There appears to be fourteen of them, flying in from the South. Did I really just think that? There are women just outside these walls actually flying through the air. No wings, no engines, no brooms, nothing but themselves and a shit load of magic. Looking at the video screen, it feels more like a movie than reality.

They all eventually land in the hundred yard wide open area between the crowd and Dupree’s troops, some more gracefully than others. They’re all dressed like regular local women; long dresses in assorted colors, long sleeved blouses, vests or short coats. They look more like mothers or grandmothers than stereotypical witches.

“Here comes another one!” shouts one of the techs. “She’s coming in hot!”

The latest witch is flying faster than the others. Much faster. No camera could catch more than a glimpse of her. She is a black blur. I assume that it’s a person simply because I don’t know of anything else on this world that big that flies. What ever it is, it was heading straight for our camp and getting pretty damn close. We don’t have any anti-aircraft weapons in stock, no one expected to need something like that.

The black blur keeps coming, flashing silently over the Compound, everyone one in the Control Room ducking reflexively. It turns sharply and loops around, coming to a stop in the air, hovering above the other witches who are already down. She does a couple of somersaults and drops down, landing on one extended leg.

This witch does not look like a grandmother or a mother. She looks more like a cosplay character at one of those comic book conventions. A skin tight, black outfit, jet black hair and a very impressive pair of breasts. The only differences between her and a comic book super heroine is she’s not showing any cleavage and she’s not wearing spike heeled boots. Thanks to one of the techs, we’re all getting a close up view of her. Or at least various parts of her.

“You weren’t kidding about hot, Jake. Daddy like,” says the spike haired tech.

“Daddy may like, Gentlemen, but keep in mind that she’s killed at least three people,” I say.

“Bet I know how they died,” replies Spikey.

Clearly, he’s been here too long. She’s looking directly into the camera and saying something.

“Can we get audio?”

“I’ll try, Mr. White.”

He fiddles with some dials, the speaker in the front of the room crackles and pops several times then we can hear it.

“…before this all gets out of hand. I repeat, we need to talk about the future of this world before this all gets out of hand. You’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming in, whether you like it or not.”

“Jake,” I sigh, “please fetch Dupree.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“I absolutely refuse! The woman is a known killer! Why do you think I have all these men protecting me? You want to let her just walk past my men and assassinate me?! You believe you can make a deal of some kind with her, don’t you White? Save your precious business. Well, your only hope of that is to kill her right now, before it is too late!”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“There are over two hundred guns out there. We all fire at once. Surely at least one of them will kill her.”

“What about all the people in the line of fire behind her?”

“They chose to come with her, they are not my concern.”

“A good leader is concerned about those he leads, First Minister.”

“Yes, but I do not lead those people, Alexia does. They are not my people. My people stand between us to protect me from her and her people. I will tell you sincerely, White. You must throw in with us or all is lost.”

Clearly, a visionary. His visions include being burned at the stake for all he has done since becoming First Minister.”

“Should you not be concerned about the welfare of all your citizens?”

“Were you concerned about the welfare of those who worked in your mines? Those who worked on your farms? Those you sent into the wilds to search for rare and exotic plants?”

“I had different objectives. I wasn’t trying to run a country.”

“Nor am I. I am attempting to save my world from the likes of her and her supporters.”

I look at my watch. Two minutes to go. “Look Dupree …”

“First Minister Dupree,” he growls.

“Whatever. We’re almost out of time. This Alexia says she’s coming in, one way or another. From the reports I’ve read, I think she can do it. If we can’t stop her, we might as well invite her.”

“Let her try!” he cries out, defiantly.

“I am inviting her to come in, First Minister. You and your men will behave or there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?”

“Let it be on your head, White.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Dierdra snuck up behind me.

“Alexia, it is almost time.”

“I know. Pass the word to be on the alert. Everyone should know what to do. Is Beckwith ready?”

“She is. There are over five score family members but there are many of the Queen’s Guard.”

“Tell Beckwith to push the fact of who the new Queen is and their oath of loyalty. That and the stuff we already talked about. If men begin to break ranks, it’ll start a flood. Remember, we take men, not weapons.”

“Are you sure about that, Alexia? We could put them to good use.”

“The best use is no use at all. Times up. I’m going in. You’re in charge.”

“Until you return. Take care.”

She returns to the Coven’s line and I step forward. Just then, someone fires up a bullhorn.

“This is Don White, Consortium representative.” There was a momentary pause and some rattling noise with a few pops and squeaks. “And this is Captain Ridgeway, acting commander for the Winthrop Group. Every one is to stand down and allow her into the Compound. Is that understood? I mean everyone! Including the Queen’s Guards!”

That’s good news but I’m not ready to relax. I turn to signal Dierdra to keep alert, and then return my attention to the line of overturned wagons between me and the fence. As I start to walk towards the first wagon, there is some activity around it, trying to push it aside when a gunshot sounds. It is followed immediately by a hail of gunfire, all aimed at me but the Coven was too quick. The bullets are being deflected down in to the ground. There is a lot of screaming initially but as soon as people realize nothing’s getting through our shield, a tremendous cheer breaks out.

We had done what I did in the Courtyard fighting Opulessa, condensing the air around us until it became a semi-solid body, still mostly transparent but strong enough and flexible enough to absorb the kinetic energy of a bullet and deflect it down into the dirt in front of us. The heavy fire lasts just a few milicycles then quickly fades away, leaving nothing behind but a smoky haze and the smell of burnt cordite.

“Do we want to try this again?” I shout.

This time, the two wagons on either side of the gate start to slowly move out of the way. I give each one a bit of a boost, leaving the men behind attempting to regain control of the wagons as they roll harmlessly out of my way. As I step forward, armed men outside the gate glare at me but they do nothing but scramble out of my way. By the time I reach the gate, it is silently sliding to the left. There are more armed men on the inside but they aren’t glaring at me. They’re the professionals, just doing they’re job. Two of them step forward.

“Would you please follow us, Ma’am?”

“No problem. Who stopped the idiots firing on us?”

“That would be Mr. White and Captain Ridgeway, Ma’am.”

“Thank them for me.”

“You can thank them yourself, Ma’am.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Why did you stop us?!”

“Because it wasn’t working!

“They might have tired! There could have been a weakness in their line! There might have been … something!”

“First Minister, you must face reality. Opulessa is gone. This witch is the new power in your world and it appears that she has organized a group of witches to join her. If I understand the history of your world, this is unprecedented.”

Dupree looks as if he had been sucker punched, slumped in the padded chair at our conference table, just staring at the video feed of the rouge witch marching through the building, headed our way.

“It is. Certainly it never happened during Opulessa’s reign, she ordered her Guard to hunt for other witches. There was a bit of tolerance because almost all Healers were also witches and a community needed its Healer. The Guard knew that their families lived in those communities. If any of them tried to work together, the Guard would act but if they kept quiet, they were left alone.” He slowly stands and walks over to the window overlooking the entrance gate. “It may have been a mistake to be so lenient.”

Or to piss them off in the first place. Too late now.

“Looking back isn’t going to help now, First Minister. We need to deal with her. For all we know, she might be a Republican.”

“What is that?”

“Someone who is aware of their self interest.”

“Ahhhhh, I see. We should be so lucky.”

I glance down at the blue file folder laying on the table in front of me, the red tab reading “Thompson, Alex”.

“Or prepared.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Alexia said that we should delay at least ten decicycles after she entered the building before crossing over to where the Queen’s Guard waited. We had used the viewing device she had given me to choose some likely targets.

The woman had been amazed after looking through them.

“What did the Queen call these, Mistress Beckwith?”

“Bye nock yu lars.”

“Are they magic?”

“No. Tech nal ogee.”

“Well, whatever they are, that’s our Daveed over there.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, Mistress, that’s our little Daveed.”

“Little Daveed” appeared to be at least eleven stone and almost three decileagues tall.

“Just to be certain because this is dangerous, you agree to talk to your son about leaving the group over there and joining us over here?”

“Oh yes, Mistress. Our family has always supported the Queen, no matter what she did. It has been difficult over the years. Very difficult. Now, with this new, lovely Queen … she is so nice, don’t you think?”

“She is very nice. Go on.”

“You can tell by just looking at her. Such a nice girl, though I don’t know about those clothes.”

“They serve their purpose. About your son?”

“I am no fool, Mistress. I was standing where they were shooting towards. If you and the others had not been protecting us with your magic, many would have died. If this does not end soon, many will die. I do not wish my son to be among them. I support this Queen. My son will do the same. Once I explain it to him.”

“Very well. Follow me.”

Her story was similar to those of other mothers I had spoken with. They feared for their son’s safety, even their lives. They wanted to help, some demanded to help. All I need do is to get them safely across the divide.

There were over eighty different mothers who had recognized their sons among the men across the divide, some had more than one son there. I gathered the women together and we began to walk across, myself in the lead. Guns were quickly pointed at us, though not by all the men. We continued to walk without hesitation and were almost half way across.

“Who among you is in charge?” I shout. No one responds so we continue walking. “I would like to parley with the man in charge.” This time, a uniformed man steps forward.

“What do you want, Witch?”

I keep walking towards him as the group of women begins to slowly spread out across the front line of the Guard.

“Whom am I addressing?”

“General Dyson Packer. What do you and your rabble want?”

To his credit, he does not point his weapon at me. Brave but foolish.

“Rabble? We are simply mothers concerned about the safety and welfare of our children.”

“YOU have a son serving in the Guard?”

“Me? No. I am just the shepherd for this flock of grief stricken mothers.”

“Why are they so ‘grief stricken’?”

“Their sons are about to die.”

“How so, witch? I see no evidence of that. We are the ones with the guns, are we not?”

“Guns mean nothing. The Queen rules this world and all who oppose her are doomed to die. They may die slowly or quickly but they will be dead. You should know that as well as any.”

“That abomination is not the Queen!”

“No? Then who is?”

“There is no Queen.”

“Then General Dyson Packer of the Queen’s Guard, whom do you serve?”

“I serve the people!”

“Really? The people have accepted Alexia as the rightful Queen. All that you see before you came here at her behest. Even more cheered at her coronation earlier today. You have sworn an oath, a solemn oath, to serve and obey the Queen. It is the Queen who serves the people.”

It took several moments for him to stop laughing.

“Opulessa served none but herself!” he declares.

“Agreed. Yet you followed her orders. Why would you do such a thing? Because it profited you to do so? Then you did not serve the people but yourself and are no better than Opulessa. Did you follow her out of love? Then you are an ignorant fool and undeserving of your position because you yourself have already admitted she served none but herself. Or did you follow her because of your oath? If so, your oath requires you to follow the orders of the current Queen.”

He shakes his head. “You argue well, witch.”

“I have much practice. What say you, General Dyson Packer?”

“I say that I follow my orders and they are to keep you and your mob away from First Minister Dupree.”

“Who serves at the Queen’s pleasure. What if Queen Alexia were to dismiss him? Who would you take orders from then?”

“Alexia is not the Queen!”

“So, we return to that point, do we?”

As I and General Packer continue to argue, I can see a steady trickle of men moving from the Guard’s lines to our own. Alexia’s plan seems to be working.

Say what you will about her, she is very clever.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The cameras follow her progress through the Compound until she is just outside my office door. I stand up, preparing to greet her but Dupree stays seated. There’s a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I say, a little too loudly.

The doors open, sliding apart into the door frame. She stands between them, hands on her hips, legs slightly apart, hair as black as the night contrasted with white skin and red lips. She wears no obvious makeup but your eyes are drawn to hers, there is fire in those eyes. Her hair is wild, flowing, framing her high cheeks and tapered jaw line, ending in a strong, almost pointed chin. Hers is not the baby face you see on most beautiful women. You can just barely make out its masculine origin but it just lends a feeling of strength and determination to her beauty.

Then there’s those big tits, narrow waist and sculptured ass. I’m not one of the many lesbians who are a part of this mission but, right now, I can see the appeal.

“Please, have a seat.” I indicate with my hand the unoccupied seat next to Dupree.

“Thank you, Mr. White.”

Her voice is not high pitched and bubbly. It’s lower, more like Lauren Bacall’s. She moves with a purpose, sliding into the chair.

“May I introduce First Minister Redmond Dupree.”

She looks over at him, nodding her head slightly. “First Minister.”

Neither offers their hands. Maybe Thompson has adapted to local custom. Dupree doesn’t even acknowledge her presence. I return my attention to Alexia.

“Are you comfortable? Can I get you something to drink? Beer, wine, Coke? You don’t get a lot of choice over here.”

“I’ll have some coffee if you make it strong.”

I smile. “Is there any other way?”

“I will also have one of your coffees. Have Rachet bring it,” says Dupree.

Dupree has a paranoia about personal safety, always worried about someone poisoning his food or drink. Dilgar Rachet is his last line of defense. He’s also never shown any interest in coffee before.

I push my intercom button. “Three coffees. Black?” Alexia acknowledges my question with a nod but Dupree doesn’t. Probably doesn’t understand it. “Black. The First Minister would like Mr. Rachet to deliver.”

It’s an uncomfortable couple of minutes of silence while we wait for the drinks. When Rachet arrives, it’s with three oversized steaming mugs. Alexia quickly takes hers, inhales deeply above the rising vapors and then takes a tentative sip, smacking her lips slightly.

“Not bad. I made a mean cup back in the other world. Stronger than this but I was about the only one who could tolerate it. I think coffee is the thing that I missed the most. What do you miss the most, Mr. White?”

“Well, we have almost all of the creature comforts here. American food and drink. Movies and TV, that sort of thing. I guess it’s my family more than anything else.”

She takes a long, slow drink from her mug. “Family is important. Do you have any family, First Minister?”

He’s taken aback by her direct question. “Uhhh no, I do not.”

“No wife or children?” she asks.

“No.”

“No parents still alive?” she presses, though pleasantly enough.

“None.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“No. None.” He answers, slightly exasperated

She takes another long, slow sip, almost draining the large mug. “That puts us in similar positions, though I didn’t have your family killed . So there’s that difference.”

Whatever artificial pleasant atmosphere existed disappears, replaced by cold, nervous anticipation.

“I assure you,” Dupree sputters “I had absolutely nothing to do with the deaths in your family!”

“Well, one of you two did and I plan on discovering exactly who did what …” The locks on my door close with a loud thump. “… before either of you two leave this office today.”

Shit. “Look …Alexia? What would you prefer we call you?”

She smiles but not pleasantly. “My Queen seems a little pretentious so, since were all friends here, Alexia will do. For the moment. I’d also appreciate a refill.”

“As would I,” adds Dupree, who had barely touched his mug.

I hit the button again. “Two more black coffees, please. And do not disturb us after that.” Turning toward the witch. “What evidence do you have, supporting this theory that the First Minister or I had anything to do with the deaths of your mother and brother?”

“Nothing right now but you know who I really am, don’t you MISTER White? When it comes to hacking computers, I’m as good as there is. We’re all going to sit here while I access your system and see what I can find. I can assure you, if there’s anything to be found, I’ll find it. When I do, one or both of you are going to pay.”

There’s another knock at my door. The locks slide open as do the doors without me touching anything. She’s already taken control of part of our system. Rachet is standing in the doorway, a mug in each hand.

I wave my hand at him. “Come in, Dilgar.”

He enters the room, keeping a wary eye on Alexia, reaching towards her with the mug shaking slightly in his right hand. She holds the empty mug up with her left hand, taking the full one from him with her right, again taking a deep whiff of the aroma before bringing it to her lips … and pausing.

“Excuse me. Dilgar is it?”

He had just traded mugs with Dupree.

“Yes. Dilgar Rachet.”

She carefully sets her mug on my desk.

“I’ve got a question for you and you’ve got one chance to tell me the truth.” The doors bang shut and lock again. Dilgar’s’ eyes are wide with fear. “Remember, just one chance. You lie; I will kill you where you stand. You tell me the truth; you walk out that door. Understand me?”

He rapidly glances back and forth between Dupree and Alexia, saying nothing but beads of sweat form on his forehead. You can practically smell his panic. She eases herself out of the chair, striding towards him, fixing him in place with her eyes. Slowly reaching out with her right hand, lightly brushing his cheek with the tips of her fingers, she stares him down.

“Do. You. Understand. Me.” She asks, slowly, quietly and with more malice than I can recall four words ever being uttered.

“Y-y-y-e-e-ssssss,” he managed to stammer.

“Good. It’s a two part question. What did you put in my coffee and who told you to do it? Again, one chance and I will know if you’ve told me the truth because, hey … I’m a witch.”

The sweat is rolling off his face, dripping from his eyebrows. He’s straining to look at Dupree but can’t tear his eyes away from Alexia’s face. She brings her index finger to point at his nose.

“The truth, Dilgar. Now.”

He’s definitely has that “deer in the headlights” look. He blinks, gulps, then opens his mouth.

“Snake venom, Woodland Adder venom,” he whispers.

“Nasty stuff. Now, part two. Who ordered it? It’s useless to lie to protect someone else. I’ll know it and you might as well as tell me who it was in the first place. You’ll both die, tell me the truth and at least you’ll live. Give him up, Dilgar.”

“Now see here!” Dupree harrumphed. “How can you expect to get the truth after threatening a man like that?! Why, he has no choice but to …”

Alexia flicks her hand towards Dupree without turning her attention from Rachet. The First Minister continues to talk but makes no sound.

“Just you and I, Dilgar. If it was your idea, fine. Tell me and you are free. Lie and die. Now.”

“I … I …” he began, struggling to speak. “It was all … my … I … You had to be … so I …” He stopped, closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. “First Minister Dupree gave me the poison,” he murmurs. “I was to put it in any drink you ordered the first chance available.”

“And how did you know that I’d order a drink?”

“White always offers drinks to his guests and our people always accept. They cannot resist trying something from his world.”

“Interesting.”

She gracefully returns to her chair, picks up the mug, cradling it in both hands for a moment before bringing it to her lips, taking a third, long swallow.

“It does add a certain kick you don’t usually find in coffee, however I doubt there’d be a big market. Though, with Starbucks, you never know.” The doors slowly slide open. “You’re free to go, Rachet. Your sins are absolved.”

He just stares blankly at the back of her head for several seconds then a look of mad relief comes over him. He turns and quickly heads for the door, which slams shut just as he reaches it.

“This is a one time offer, Dilgar Rachet. Never to be repeated. Conspire against me or my people ever again, in any way, and it will be you drinking the Woodland Adder venom.”

Rachet carefully spins back to face Alexia, bowing low behind her.

“I understand perfectly, my Queen.”

The doors glide open and he backs out of the room, bowing repeatedly, continuing as he moves down the hall. Eventually, he backs around the corner and the doors slip shut again, the locking mechanism activated with a dull, dreadful thud.

After another sip of the poisoned brew, Alexia sets her mug on my desk.

“Now. What am I going to do with the two of you?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“HOW MANY?!” I shriek.

“Nine out of every ten, maybe better, and they still are coming. More of the officers stayed than the regular soldiers but we did persuade a few of the officers. Including General Packer.”

“Well done, Beckwith!”

“I had him on the fence until his mother arrived and drug him off it onto our side. As unlikely as it seems, the argument about loyalty to the Queen carried more water than I thought it might.”

“People need something or someone to believe in, Beckwith.”

“People are simpletons!”

“People have a need to belong, to be inspired, to have a goal larger than themselves.”

“In other words, Dierdra …simpletons."

“Think what you will, Beckwith, but it was Alexia’s understanding of these ‘simpletons’ that has given us the victory this day. Without a single person being harmed I might add.”

“We are a long way from victory. They still have almost all of the guns.”

“And no one left to even carry them all, let alone shoot at us.”

“More men will be coming.”

“And more men will be leaving. We can use the same approach across the country. All divisions of the Queen’s Guard are local, as are their families. What is it Alexia says? ‘Blood is thicker than water.’”

“Yet both are easily spilled.”

“Not today, Beckwith.”

“Not yet, Dierdra.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Alexia restores Dupree’s voice and he does not waste any time in using it. “Rachet succumbed to some form of witchcraft! You made him say those things! No one would ever believe those lies!”

“I do. And so does Mr. White. Isn’t that right, Mr. White?”

She is trying to play us off one another. Clever girl. “I try not to get involved in internal politics.”

“Ahhh, bad for business. Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Business is closed.”

“SEE?! I told you White! You should have thrown your lot in with me!”

Dupree’s an idiot! He doesn’t understand what is sitting in front of us. He hasn’t read Alex Thompson’s dossier, not that there’s a hell of a lot there. What is there tells me we’ve got a political extremist with ultimate power. Even extremists want something; I just need to find out what that something is.

“Surely, we can come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement. As you have pointed out, this land has so many needs. The Consortium can fill those needs.”

She takes another sip of the doped coffee. How the hell does she do that and not drop dead? “And I should believe you because you’ve done such a wonderful job up ’til now?”

“We accommodate whoever is in charge. As you appear to be the new power on the throne …”

“Do not be so hasty, White! My men and their guns will have something to say about that! You are, in fact, surrounded by my men, witch, and are my prisoner! What do you say to THAT?!”

Alexia turns and fixes him with a leisurely look of disdain. “I say that you’d better do a head count. You might be down a few men.”

I reach for the intercom button but pause, looking at Dupree. He gives me a quick nod. I push the button but pick up the handset, best to keep this conversation at least partially private. I pass the handset to Dupree.

“Get me General Packer …. Where? … How is that possible? … Why did no one stop them? … Mothers? All of them? …. Get me Colonel Saveed then … Colonel Kaye … Captain Shikama! … Well, who is left out there? …. Yes! Immediately!”

There’s a pause, apparently waiting for the highest ranking officer available to be rounded up and report. Dupree is suppressed anger personified. Alexia continues to drink her coffee.

“This really isn’t bad, Mr. White. I’ve never been a fan of flavored coffees, more of a purist. Flavors just hide the fact that the coffee itself sucks. But this Woodland Adder venom has possibilities. Do you know where Dupree got it?”

“Sorry, no. Strictly a local product I imagine.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Lieutenant Mandell!” Dupree shouts. “What in Zaphod’s name has happened out there? … Just tell me how many men remain under your command.” His shoulders sag as some of the steam goes out of him. “Where are they? … Thank you Lieutenant.”

Dupree returns the handset to me. “You are still surrounded, witch!” he declares.

Alexia drains the last of the coffee from her mug, setting it on the edge of my desk.

“Fine. Come and get me.”

Dupree eyes her suspiciously. “Will you come peaceably?”

“No,” she laughs. “Of course not. I’ll decapitate the first man who walks through that door, and then the second, the third and so on. Make sure your people know that I plan to put up a fight as will my friends outside. I imagine you’ll lose a lot more men when they hear that. For now, Mr. White and I’ll discuss the future. You were saying something about accommodating who ever is in charge?”

“I was. The prior administration had certain goals and objectives and we adjusted our activities accordingly. If you have different goals and objectives, we can adjust again.”

“I doubt you’d be willing to adjust enough.”

“You never know unless you ask.”

“Let’s see. I promised the people of this world that I’d remove every last vestige of my world from theirs. Everybody and everything goes, including you and the Consortium. You interested in that deal?”

There it is. The end of the job.

“Not really.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Who’s going to pay for all that?”

“You would, or The Consortium would to be exact.”

“I don’t think so, or The Consortium doesn’t think so, to be exact. What would keep us from just packing up and bugging out?”

“Nothing, though it’s what I’d expect from a group as irresponsible as yours.”

“Let’s not be insulting, Mr. Thompson.”

“Alexia, at least for now. Still the baddest ass witch in this world. You might want to remember that until you skip out on your obligations.”

“What obligations? There’s no enforceable contract.”

“Big surprise. Why shouldn’t I just kill you and all of your people right now?”

“Because you have no proof of any wrong doing by either me or my workers. Without proof you can’t …”

“Proof? I don’t need no stinking proof. I’m the ultimate authority in a world without any checks and balances. The Queen does whatever the Queen wants and nobody can do squat about it. Every single person currently in this world is at my mercy. Every. Single. One. Including you and your workers, Miss White. If you and your employer won’t work with me, Miss White, why shouldn’t I just snap my fingers and take care of that portion of my promise right now?”

DAMN! She’s really embracing her new role in this world. Who could blame her? How many people are given absolute power in their lifetime? Dupree has been silent since Alexia shut him down but I can tell he’s enjoying my predicament

“Perhaps my employer would be willing to negotiate certain issues. You can’t expect us to foot the entire bill.”

“Yes, I can.”

“You understand that I’m not authorized to make that large of a commitment? I’ll need to consult with the higher ups before giving you an answer.”

“Don’t take too long, I’m the impatient sort. I’ll just take Dupree with me now and we can talk after your consultation.”

“ARE YOU MAD?!” Dupree screams.

“Yeah, I am,” she replies. “Madder than hell. You’re the one who ordered the hit on my family.”

“How could you possibly …”

“I checked the system while we were talking. I’m getting better at this magical multitasking thing. You discovered what Patron Miller’s plan was and asked White here to have his employer take care of the problem, which they were happy to do. I still need them but I don’t need you. I assume you knew about Opulessa’s little petting zoo?”

Jesus Christ! She wouldn’t …

“I-I-I can assure-you-you that there was nothing that I could do about her …” Dupree desperately babbles. “She was beyond my control!”

Alexia stands up, flexing her fingers.

“This won’t hurt a bit. At least, I don’t think so. Not that I care.”

Dupree tries to get out of his chair but falls over backwards, sprawling on the floor on his back. He raises his hands, trying to ward off his fate.

“NO! PLEASE! I …AAHHHHH!!”

Dupree begins to glow, dull yellow at first but, in seconds, he grows brighter and brighter until I can no longer look at him. I close my eyes tightly and look away. Then I hear a soft squeal.

I open my eyes and see a pile of clothes with something small squirming around under them. Oh my GOD! She actually did it! Alexia comes to the front of my desk, places her hands on the edge and leans closer toward me.

“If I could trouble you for a bag.”

“A-a-a bag?”

“Yeah. Something big enough to hold a …” She bends down, roots around among the pile of Dupree’s crumpled clothes and stands up. “pig. Appropriate. Don’t you agree, White?”

She is holding a squirming, squealing piglet by the scruff of the neck. She’s freaking nuts! I dive for my intercom.

“Yes. Very appropriate. I’ll get you that bag.”

It took a few minutes to find a strong enough sack and a couple more for her to stuff Dupree into it. Dilgar had fled the building as soon as Alexia had let him go so there was no one left to deal with Dupree’s personal effects.

“Give them to whoever is left in charge of his troops. I assume he had some loyal followers,” Alexia says, the bag and its contents slung over her shoulder. “I expect to hear from you within the next two days, White. If I don’t …”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have our answer very soon.”

“Good. See ya’ later.”

She saunters out of my office, down the hall, through the building and out the door, carefully watched by our security cameras. A quick headcount reveals less than fifty men left from Dupree’s original almost a thousand and they are all from far away regions. They have no place nearby to run to. That doesn’t matter when they get the news about Dupree. They begin looting their fellow troop’s belongings and start heading for the woods in minutes.

As soon as Alexia reaches her people, the wagons start to leave in a surprising orderly manner. I reach for my intercom one last time.

“Once the last wagon has left the property, we will begin Emergency Evacuation Protocol Alpha,” I announce to the entire base. “Do not, I repeat, do not leave anything you value behind. We will NOT be returning.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When I reach the wagon, Johnathyn takes the bag from me.

“Be careful. He’s pretty shaken up,” I tell him.

“I will,” he replies. “It is understandable.”

He climbs up onto the driver’s bench and I follow him. Standing up on the seat, I waive my hand over my head several times. There’s a loud roar, a mixture of shouts, applause, laughter and general huzzahs, quickly followed by assorted whistles from the people assigned to traffic control. The wagons start to head back to Glory, the new Queen’s Guard formed up and leading the way. Dierdra and Beckwith run over to our wagon as we wait for our turn to join the procession.

“Were you successful?” asks Beckwith.

“Let’s find out. Johnathyn?”

He hands me the reigns and jumps into the back of the wagon. Reaching down, he lifts the corner of a large quilt. Underneath is a naked, bound and gagged Redmond Dupree. Beckwith laughs, slapping me on the back. Dierdra eyes her harshly but says nothing.

“Was it difficult?” Beckwith asks.

“I’ve got no idea how Opulessa did what she did to those poor prisoners and I don’t want to know but teleporting is a whole lot easier. Dupree can spend the rest of his life in prison for the death of my family and no one will be looking for him. His supporters have either joined us or run to the hills to save themselves.”

“You did well, my Queen,” says Dierdra.

“You guys did pretty well too. Dupree was darned upset when he found out most of his troops had defected.”

“Beckwith was very persuasive,”

I turn to face Beckwith. “Were you now?”

“It was not difficult. Most of them were just local lads who joined to make a living. They were not evil men and simply followed orders. Even the officers were decent men. Did you know that most of them refused to fire at us? If they had not, we might not have been able to protect the crowd as we did.”

“There was a risk but I’m sure we would have handled it.”

“You mean that you would have handled it,” says Dierdra.

“My power is your power and vica versa. That’s why you all will have to work together once I’m gone. There is strength in numbers and you’re gonna need that strength until you get established. It may be that doing the wrong thing together is better in the long term than doing the right thing if divided. You have to show the world that you can work together, listen to each other, compromise and, most of all, get things done.”

“What is next, my Queen?”

“Have Steinvild hang back with five empty wagons. I want every gun picked up and brought back to Glory. I’d destroy them if I could but that’s being too idealistic. Eventually, when this is done, we’ll field strip them, separate the pieces and store all the receivers in one place, all the barrels in another, all the stocks in a third and so on. In order to get a working gun, a person would have to successfully break into like five or six separate security areas. Not impossible but pretty damn hard.”

“What about White and his people?” asks Beckwith.

“We’ll return in the morning and salvage anything useful but not too dangerous then mothball the rest.”

“And you believe that White will allow you to just walk in?”

“If there’s a single man present in that building in two hours, Beckwith, I’ll eat my hat.”

“What hat?”

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Things got a little hectic after the trip out to the Winthrop Group compound.

I had Dupree shipped out to a prison in one of the Northern provinces, this world’s version of Siberia. I had wanted to kill him but couldn’t do it without setting a bad example. How could I expect Beckwith to back off her threat to take vengeance against the entire Queen’s Guard if I didn’t do the same with the killer of my family? I did promise her if she ever found the proof of which men had killed her children, she could do what I did and put them away for life.

We took over the Palace. It was the symbolic seat of power and we needed everything we could get right now. Renovations started on the residential side to make individual apartments for each of the members of the Coven, now called the Witches Ruling Council. There was more than enough space it was a matter of how to subdivide it. There was a brief fight about who would get what set of rooms, which should have told me something. The bigger fight was who would get responsibility for what part of the Government. Beckwith demanded control of Security.

Big surprise.

Things were eventually worked out but I had to lean on some of them pretty hard, which told me something else. I was a lame duck.

I had achieved most everything I had set out to do. Opulessa dead, Dupree overthrown, the Consortium and the Winthrop Group fleeing the world, all done. There were a lot of messes that needed cleaning up but they didn’t need me to clean them up. In fact, I shouldn’t be the one to clean them up. More and more, when there was a question as to what should be done, the other witches would turn to Dierdra. She would consult with me but I knew it was becoming more of a courtesy with each passing day. They all knew I was planning on leaving and was not going to throw my weight around. Which made General Packer’s request for a meeting a little surprising.

I chose the main ceremonial meeting room but had a table and chairs brought in. I wasn’t going to sit on a throne. When he arrived, he seemed surprised at the way I was dressed, which was in my usual day clothes. Why get a new wardrobe for just a brief time? He bowed when he entered the room. I waved him over with my hand.

“General, please have a seat. I’m not much for ceremony.”

“As you wish, my Queen.”

“I know that, technically, I’m Queen but you may address me as Alexia, if you wish. You are the head of the Queen’s Guard, after all.”

He sat down, setting his ceremonial cap on top of the table. “Thank you, my Queen. How would you prefer to be addressed?”

“I’m more comfortable with Alexia.”

“Then Alexia it is. May I speak freely with you, Alexia?”

“Sure, go ahead. What’s on your mind?”

“I would like to know your intentions concerning this world and your obligations to it.”

“I think I’ve fulfilled my obligations already.”

“Then what are your plans?”

“I’m going back to my world.”

“How are you doing that? Don White made certain to disable the gateway as the last man left. There is no other gateway.”

“There is a small, portable one. It was the type the Consortium first used to send over scouts to check the place out. It was written off as lost but one of Patron Miller’s group got their hands on it. That’s how I was brought here in the first place. You could argue that I was kidnapped.”

“An unfortunate way to arrive, to be sure. When are you leaving?”

A good question. I should probably have left before now but …

“I’m not sure. It won’t be long. I need to get back to my world. I don’t belong here. I assume you know about the differences between our two worlds?”

“I was briefed by my like member of the Winthrop Group. Hard to grasp such a world.”

“I don’t want to poison your world with alien technology or information from my world.”

“Though, I am given to understand that your remarkable healing abilities are aided by that technology. A thinking box?”

“A computer. It helps diagnose problems and suggests a course of treatment. I’ll take it with me when I go.”

“Would not others be able to use it for the same purpose?”

“It contains a lot of information that would be very harmful to this world. I could try and remove that information but there’s no guarantee it would work. You’re right, it would be a valuable asset but it could also destroy this world as you know it.”

“Remarkable. Who will be the new Queen?”

“There isn’t going to be a new Queen. The Government will be run by a council of senior witches. They’ll choose one of their group to be Prime councilor. She’ll be the closest thing to a new Queen but she will not have absolute power. The Council has the power and will not be run by the unfettered whimsies of a single individual. I hope that the Council will eventually agree to be chosen by the people.”

“I see.”

The General says nothing else for almost a decicycle before leading with a question. “Alexia, you are how old?”

“I get your point; I’m only twenty two and haven’t lived in your world very long. The whole thing is idealistic and unrealistic. General, the best and most efficient form of Government is a benign dictator. Your world has just spent over two hundred years under the thumb of a not so benign dictator. Since there’s no way to guarantee the next dictator will be benign, we thought it was worth giving change a chance. What do you think?”

“Speaking plainly, Alexia, your goals and objectives are laudable but I do not believe the people will easily accept them. Please do not take my candor as personal criticism. You have a keen understanding of people. I discovered that it was you who created the plan to convince the Queen’s Guard to join your side. That was very impressive, as was your manipulation of both First Minister Dupree and the Consortium. My concern is that my world is a conservative world, one which is bound by tradition. I am afraid that many will not accept these changes and try to return to the old ways.”

“Who wouldn’t want more control over their own life? I just want to give this world some freedom. Is that so wrong?”

“No, it is not. Many times during my forty year career I would have liked to change my orders but could not do so.” He pauses and sighs. “I have sworn an oath of loyalty to the Queen, which is currently you, Alexia. In reality, that oath is to the people of this world, because the Queen is supposed to be the caretaker of the people.”

“How’d that work out for ya’?”

The look he tossed off made me immediately regret my snarky question, but he answered it.

“Not well, but it is proof as to how traditional this world is. There were always small attempts to overthrow the Government but few attempts on the Queen’s life.”

“Maybe that is proof of the power of this particular Queen, who is now dead.”

“Your point is well taken. I am an old soldier, my Queen. I do not seek personal power, I wish only for peace. I have seen more than my share of fighting and am tired of it. This new, bright vision of the future that you offer could also sow the seeds of conflict among my people. I wished only to speak with you to be certain you were aware of this possibility.”

“Do you feel better now?”

“I am afraid not. I am not as optimistic as you, seeing mostly the potential problems, not the benefits.”

“What do you intend to do, General Packer?”

“My duty, Alexia. Always my duty.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I needed to talk with Johnathyn that evening but couldn’t meet with him until dinner. The three of us had taken one of the smaller, less desired apartments because I’m not staying and Johnathyn and Lee are going back home to New Amsterdam after I leave.

Lee could sense my departure was fast approaching but wouldn’t say anything. Johnathyn and I barely talked about it but sex between us had gotten more desperate, more passionate, as if each night together would be our last. He didn’t ask me to stay but it was as if he wanted to show me what I was giving up by leaving.

He made a very convincing argument. Repeatedly.

I snuggled close to him after our last session. I had to admit that I had been less aggressive in bed the last few weeks. Whether it was from general fatigue after a long day of wrapping things up or becoming more acclimated to the traditional female role, I’d been letting Johnathyn do pretty much what ever he wanted with me and, frankly, I’d loved it. Another couple weeks of this and I wouldn’t be able to leave him. It was tough enough already. He stroked my hair as he gently kissed my neck.

“Johnathyn?”

“Yes, my love.”

“I spoke with General Packer today.”

“I know. I advised him to do so.”

“Why?”

“Because he had expressed reservations to me concerning the future of the Government. I told him that he should speak directly to you, that you would provide him with a fair hearing and a well reasoned response.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. He didn’t seem to buy into the plan.”

“I thought he had some valid objections, Alexia.”

I turn away, lying on my back, looking up at him. “Not you too! I thought you supported me!”

“I do! I agree with your goals and objectives and your plans to achieve them. That doesn’t mean that there won’t be problems and bumps along the road. Also, you will not be around to put the plan into effect. You are trusting others to do what you would do.”

“It has to be them! I can’t dictate any more! My world has already screwed up your world more than enough.”

“Fair enough but I have seen more friction between the other Council members than you have.”

“What friction? I’ve seen a few little fights and a couple of big ones.”

“Because they will not fight in front of you unless absolutely necessary. You are Alexia, the Queen of us all! Even now, you still intimidate each and every one of them.”

“Except Dierdra and Beckwith.”

“Not Dierdra, she respects you too much. But you do intimidate Beckwith.”

“I sure as heck don’t see it. She’s always giving me grief.”

“She does not wish to be seen that way so she fights hard to hide it. When she is not in your presence, she allows her other sides to show.”

“Wish I’d known that sooner. So you agree with the General? We’re gonna crash and burn?”

“I can see either of you being correct. I would prefer to live in the world you envision, so I support you but one cannot blindly ignore other possibilities.”

“Then what should I do about all this?”

He looks down at me, the palm of his right hand cupping my left cheek. “You well know what I wish to happen but since we cannot spend the rest of our lives together, you must trust those who remain in this world to complete the mission.”

“Great. You could have just told me everything was going to be fine.”

“Even Leeanna would not have believed that.”

“True,” I sigh. Time to face the elephant. “General Packer had a question for me. He asked when I was leaving.”

I could feel Johnathyn tense up, though he didn’t respond right away.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I hadn’t decided yet … but since then, I have. A week from today.”

“Seven days?”

“I should be able to wrap up everything by then, don’t ya’ think?”

He drops down, kissing me so hard that it feels like he is sucking the very life out of me.

“You know what I think, what I desire.”

He then again shows me what I am leaving behind. He came oh so close to making a sale.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It was so much harder to tell Leeanna. I could reason with Johnathyn, explain why I had to go, and he could agree with me before all the emotional stuff hit us.

With Lee, it was just emotions. She cried, then I cried, then we cried. I tried to explain things but she wouldn’t buy any of it. She had said she understood when we had talked about it earlier but she had lied. Or maybe not wanted to deal with it. Or maybe it was all in my head because I hoped against hope that she’d understand and not hate me for the rest of her life.

Which is exactly what I would do if I was in her position.

Johnathyn tried to help, even going so far as to tell her he agreed with me the whole way. Leeanna could tell how much it was tearing him up but she eventually said the right things, trying to make it easier on me.

GOD, this whole thing just SUCKED!

I’ve never had a week go by so quickly. There were meetings and plans and goodbyes and more meetings and more goodbyes. By the last day, I was a jittery, edgy, emotional wreck.

Dierdra had tried to spend as much free time as she could with me but the business of government was taking more and more of that time. If I hadn’t been so damn needy, I’d probably been consoling her, assuring her that she and the rest of the Coven were up to the challenge.

In the end, I decided to go at night. It should be night when I arrive back home, hopefully drawing less attention. Pegues had crossed over several times from this point when he was shopping for Patron Miller. It was near a smallish sized town in southern Indiana with two major highways and a rail connection. I’d need that because I was hauling back my own cargo.

We recovered all the guns that Miran Pegues had bought with my gold coins. I’m taking those suckers back, selling them and getting my money out of them. In addition, we found almost five thousand dollars in assorted bills and change from the Winthrop compound, most of it in vending machines and the commissary. Guess they were in too much of a hurry to evacuate to think of everything. That money will help me get by until I can return to New York and am back in business.

When the final hour arrives, we all gather in a forest glade, about two leagues northeast from the Winthrop compound. It’s a small group, just me, my family, the Coven, and Miran Pegues. The cargo is my trusty backpack, laptop and six large, long crates that hold the guns Pegues bought plus a few of the Winthrop Groups full auto models. They ought to fetch top dollar.

We bring two wagons, one pulled by Johnathyn’s faithful team, Rose and Pugsly. They’d been strong, reliable horses the whole way to Glory and Johnathyn thought they ought to be present at the end. He can be darn sentimental some times. The wagons come to a stop and everyone gets out. I unload the boxes myself, stacking them near where Pegues has set up. Might as well get a final workout for my magic before it’s gone forever.

The plan is that Pegues opens a portal, six of the Coven will each levitate a crate and push it across the threshold and then I follow. We won’t have much time.

As I take a last look around, Steinvild walks up and drops to one knee in front of me.

“You have saved us all and given us a new world. May we prove worthy of your example, my beloved Queen.”

She then kisses my hand, stands and steps aside as Emlilly takes her place. Each of them takes a turn, giving me their final best wishes, each ending the same way, “my beloved Queen”. Ten of my sister witches had knelt before me when Dierdra takes her turn. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

“I have no children and have never regretted that until we met. Since then, I have experienced a small portion of what mothers feel for their daughters. Now, I will experience their feelings of loss. I will never be the same … my beloved Queen.”

I reach down, placing a hand on each side of her shoulders, pull her up and hug her fiercely.

“I had a mother,” I say. “And I loved her until the day she died but I would have been a better person if you had been my mother.”

I kiss her cheek and we part, leaving Beckwith as the only one who had not said her peace. We stand five decileagues apart, looking at each other for a moment before I turn away.

“Wait!” she cries out.

I turn back as she slowly strides toward me, kneeling as the others did, looking up at me.

“You have been a thorn in my foot from when we first met. We have fought and argued these past months, giving no quarter. You are an outsider from an exploiting, violent world that tried to rob my world of its resources. My righteous calls for justice for my murdered family were thwarted at every turn. Your leaving this world is the second best thing that can happen. The first is for you to stay and rule as our beloved Queen … as my beloved Queen.”

She raises my hand to her lips and kisses it, just as the others had. I reached down, taking her hand, pull her upright and then kiss her hand.

“You always kept me honest, Beckwith, making me defend everything I wanted to do. That’s a thankless job. Thank you.”

She joins the others off to the side as I approach Johnathyn and Leeanna, who are holding hands. I take each of their free hands in mine. Johnathyn ducks his head down, our foreheads touching.

“There is nothing more to be said, Alexia. May you be successful and find peace and happiness. I know that you will not be able to wear your ring once you cross over, your hand will be too large, but it would bring us joy if you would still carry it upon your person.”

Leeanna releases my hand, reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a fine gold chain.

“It was my mothers,” she says. “You can wear the ring like a necklace. No one would ever see it under your shirt.”

I hold out my hand, fingers extended. “You do it for me, Lee.”

She carefully works the ring off my finger, slipping it off more easily than I expected. Threading it on the chain, she sets the clasp and drapes it over my head as I squat down so she can reach, all the time keeping a firm grip on Johnathyn’s hand. When I stand up, the ring rests on my chest. It may be a trick of the light from the lanterns but it seems to glow just ever so slightly. I pick it up between my thumb and forefinger.

“I’d be happy and proud to wear this for all to see but I want it safe and close to my heart.”

I slide the ring down the collar of my shirt where it lands between my breasts. We all join hands again, looking back and forth at each other.

How can I do this? How can I just leave my family? For what? Don’t I deserve some happy ever after? Someone touches my shoulder.

“Time to go … Alex.”

It’s Pegues, the man who started this whole damn thing.

“Why should I? What’s waiting for me over there?”

“Your life, your real life, the one you would have had if our world … if I had not tricked you into coming here. In your heart, you know this is the right thing to do. We all will have a difficult time without you but there is no real choice. You must go for us to be free.”

The son of a bitch is right. I owe them the chance to have the freedom I have. I give Johnathyn one last kiss and the same to Lee. Letting their fingers slip from mine, I follow Pegues to a spot marked by a pile of stones overgrown with old brush and young weeds.

“You will land in a small patch of woods, about half a mile from the border of a town called “Loogootee” in the state of Indiana. There is an Inn nearby. You should be able to rent both a room for the night and a truck in the morning. You will likely need this.”

He reaches into a bag slung over his shoulder and removes my wallet.

“Where the hell did you get that?!”

“I removed it the first day you arrived. At first, I thought you having lost it might slow your return to your world. Then, after you volunteered me to buy the guns Patron Miller wanted, I - aahhh - found it useful.”

I hold out my right hand and he drops it in my palm.

“What was useful?”

“The Social Security card.”

“Are the police searching for me over there?”

“No more than before, though they may have a better idea where to look.”

“Great. What other surprises are there?”

“A few. You might be disoriented because of the loss of your magic power but it should be temporary.”

“The disorientation or the loss of magic power?”

“Possibly both, that is up to you. Remember, there is not much real magic in your world but that does not mean there is none. Magic is generated by belief. Where belief is strong, you will find the potential for magic. Can you take advantage and use it? Who knows, though, as the seventh son of a seventh son, you have a better chance than most.”

“Why are you telling me this now, Pegues?”

“You will need every advantage you can find if you are going to take on the Consortium and the Winthrop Group.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I am a creature of my upbringing, as are you. Though your origins are not of this world, you are my Queen. I must honor that.”

“A little late, aren’t you?”

“As your people say, ‘better late than never.’”

“Let’s get this over with.”

“As you wish, my Queen.”

Dierdra hands him the wand and the lights begin to flash as before, at first chaotic and irregular, but a pattern soon emerges. As the lights begin to synchronize, the shimmer in the air returns which rapidly becomes the familiar radiating waves and, finally, the dark hole in the fabric of this universe which is now linked with mine.

“Hurry!” shouts Miran. “I will hold it as long as I can but that will end very soon.”

The designated witches scramble to get next to a box as, one by one, they silently lift from the ground and float towards the wavering hole, each box disappearing as it slides into the darkness. As the last box vanishes, Pegues grabs my arm.

“You are next. Good luck!”

I quickly pull the tabs on the arms and legs of my outfit, creating space for my larger male body to fit the clothes I wear. It won’t be stylish but it’s a lot better than naked. I kick off my shoes and turn for one last look.

There is Johnathyn and Lee, holding each other, smiling through their tears, waving good bye. I can’t tear my eyes away from them.

“Alex! NOW!” shouts Pegues.

I can’t move. I don’t want to move.

“ALEX! IT’S CLOSING!”

I can see the air starting to clear and lighten around me. At the very last moment, I fall backwards into the shrinking hole, feeling the crushing pressure as the darkness takes me away from all that I love.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

It had been a mistake.

Entering the portal backwards, I tumbled out backwards, hitting my lower back on the corner of one of the crates. It hurt like hell. At least it took my mind off the rest of my misery for a little while as I lay on the ground, fighting the pain and gasping to get my breath.

Once my head clears and I can breathe almost normally again, I struggle up and look around. Pegues had been on the mark. A clearing in a grove of trees, another little pile of stones nearby, the crates scattered around me. I heft one of the boxes, ignoring the pain, managing to get an end off the ground only about waist high before dropping it. It’ll do.

I grab the pair of larger shoes out of my backpack, put them on and start walking toward the lit spot on the horizon. After a few decicycles, I can make out distinct sources of light about a league away. The back still aches so I shift my pack to one shoulder and try to pick up the pace.

The walking actually helps a little, the muscles warming up, getting looser and hurting less. As I draw closer, I can see there is a truck stop on one side of a divided highway and a motel on the other with fast food restaurants on both sides.

Home sweet home.

There’s not much traffic anywhere this time of night so I trot across the highway and carefully approach the front door of the motel. I don’t see any cops around. There’d be no reason for them to be looking for me anyway, at least not tonight. I step into the doorway and the doors swing open automatically. The lobby’s clean but sparse. Walking towards the night reception desk, I see a young, red haired woman, late teens or early twenties. She’s got her head down, reading a magazine, one finger listlessly twirling her long strawberry red hair. As I step up to the secured window, she ignores me, her nose deep in the magazine. I let the pack slip from my shoulder and hit the ground with a thud.

Without looking up, she gives a big sigh, closes her eyes and lifts her head, turning it to face the window of her secure cubicle.

“Welcome to the Days Inn,” she begins to drone, pushing her magazine aside. “What can I …” she finally looks at me and stops talking, her mouth hanging open, eyes wide in shock. Does she recognize me? I can’t see any wanted posters or anything like that on her side of the likely bulletproof glass. She blinks twice and starts again, this time with a wide smile and bright eyes.

“What can I do for YOU, sugar?”

“I’d like a single for the night.”

“You all by your lonesome? That hardly seems right, a handsome stud like you.”

What the hell? I turn a bit to the side to check and see if someone has walked in behind me but it’s still just the two of us.

“Uhhh … Yeah, it’s just me. Just a single.”

She turns to the board behind her and grabs a key card.

“You’re in luck, handsome. I’ve got one left, just around the corner.”

“How much?”

“Forty even. With tax and local fees, of course. We do have a nice Continental breakfast with Starbucks coffee.”

“That’s fine.”

“Just slip your credit card and driver’s license under the glass …” She points to a depressed area in the middle of the counter that is open under the glass. “… and we’ll get you in bed in no time.”

The way she said “bed” made me think for a moment that she wasn’t referring to sleep. I bend down, unzip a pouch on the backpack and pull out a roll of bills. Peeling off a hundred, I stash the roll back in the pouch, zip it shut and stand up. Spreading the bill across the glass, I smile at the clerk.

“I’d really like to pay with cash and remain, you know, anonymous. You can have this, which should cover the room, fees, taxes and whatever. If there’s any left over, what happens to the change is up to you.”

She leaned closer to the glass to get a better look at the bill, I think.

“I’m really not supposed to do that. It’s against the rules. You’re not gonna cook some meth are you?”

“What? No! Of course not! I just hate to be on someone’s mailing list, all that junk mail. Just hate it. I’d be grateful if you’d bend those rules just a little bit.”

She leans in closer, pushing her chest out.

“How grateful?”

Man! Isn’t paying double gratitude enough?

“What do you mean?”

“Weeellll … I get off in another hour. I could come back to your room and we could …”

Whoa! Whoa! Whhooaa! What the hell is going on?!

“Look, uhh …”

“Julie. Julie Schmidt.”

“Hi. Alexia uuugh ALEX. I’m Alex. Look, Julie … I’m kinda beat and I’ve gotta get up early.” I reach down and grab my backpack, wincing in pain as I try to pick it up.

“You hurt?”

“No, just bruised my back, that’s all. No biggie.”

“Tell ya what. We’ve got a swimming pool over there.” She points with her finger over to a set of double doors off to the right. “It’s not much but it does have a Jacuzzi hot tub attached. That’ll fix that back up right now.”

“Sounds nice but I don’t have any trunks with me.”

Her eyes light up. “No problem! This time of night, it’ll just be you and me.” She slides the key card to me under the glass. “A few minutes in there and you’ll sleep like a baby tonight. I guarantee it.”

My back had stiffened up while I was standing here. If a couple of minutes in a hot tub gets me the room without formally registering and leaving a record of my presence, it’s not the worst thing in the world. I take the key card.

“Alright. Give me a minute or two to get settled.”

“You got it!”

I wince again as I walk around the corner and down the dim hallway, scanning the tarnished room numbers as I quietly go. When I find the one that matches the number on the card, I slide the card quickly in and out of the reader built into the door frame. The red LED light switches to green, there’s a quiet beep and a soft thunk as the deadbolt slides open. I twist the handle until it clicks and push the door open.

It’s a small room, smells a little antiseptic, like someone was covering up other odors with another smell. I switch on the light and immediately freeze. There’s someone else already in the room standing right in front of me!

It takes me a few milicycles to realize that it’s my reflection in the large mirror over the sink by the door … but that can’t be MY reflection. I drop my bag and step closer to the unfamiliar image.

It’s not completely unfamiliar as I turn my head first left then right. It’s like the same me I remember seeing each day before my trip to the other side but it’s changed a lot too. I’m much better looking. Bigger, firmer jaw, prominent cheekbones, sculpted nose, perfect eyebrows, incredibly sexy eyes and tousled black hair. It was as if I had been dropped into the chair of the best plastic surgeon in the world and I had said “make me perfect”.

I unbutton and drop my shirt, revealing a broad, muscular chest with six pack abs, wide shoulders and large, burly arms, though I‘ve got a narrow waist. Dropping my pants, I can see that my thighs are as well built as the rest of me … and my dick is twice the size it was!

It seems that the changes in my body that happened over there carried over to this world. I was an extremely beautiful woman over there and now I’m a movie star handsome man over here … or maybe that’s porn star.

This could be an advantage for me. The cops may be looking for me but I no longer look like me, the old me. If I dyed my hair, grew a moustache and beard, there’d be practically no resemblance at all. Well, maybe just a moustache. I’d hate to hide this jaw.

The room phone rings. Who the hell could that be? I gingerly pick it up, like it’s a bomb ready to explode and bring it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“What’s taking so long, sugar?”

Aw CRAP! It’s Julie. Now I know what the big deal was. She saw all this. I look down at my dick. Well, not ALL this, but more than enough to get her interested. Now what do I do? It’s probably best that I see her in a public place. If she comes to my room …

“Nothing. I was just looking for a robe or something to put on.”

“A robe? Ya’ think this is the Ritz? Just take a big ol’ towel out of the bathroom.”

“Sure … fine. I’ll be right there.”

There’s a stack of towels in the bathroom right behind me. I take the largest one I can find and start to wrap it around my upper body, covering my now boob-free chest.

Force of habit.

I move it down to my waist, making sure it is tight and won’t fall off. I grab the key card, exit the room and scoot down the hall to the reception room. There’s no one there.

“Julie!” I hoarsely shout, not wanting to cause a disturbance.

“In here, Sugar!” she answers from the pool room.

I hurry over and push the left door open. Sticking my head in, I look around. Not exactly Olympic quality. Looks to be not a lot more than ten by fifteen decileagues. There’s also a four person in ground hot tub, currently occupied by one person, neck deep in the steaming water

“Get that cute tushy over here, Sugar.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“Then they’ll get an eyeful. Don’t let all the hot air out.”

I step through the doorway, letting the door swing shut behind me. Julie hugs herself tightly.

“Oh. My. GAWD!! You’re like a male model, aren’t you? Ohhhmygawd!”

She pops up out of the water, her small, naked breasts jutting from her chest. She reaches back behind her, rifling through the pile of clothes she left there, and turns towards me, cell phone in hand.

“Janie won’t believe this!”

She holds the phone out with both hands at arms length, preparing to take a picture. I had been loosening the towel wrapped around my waist but now I raise both hands, holding them out in front of me.

“Hold it! No one said anything about pictures.”

She brings the phone down.

“Ohh pleeeassee. She won’t believe me without some kind of proof! Just one little …”

My towel chooses to slip down to the ground right then.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST!” she gasps then her hands come up and she starts taking pictures.

“Wait! Wait! Hold it!” I charge the tub, careful not to slip on the wet tile. “Stop! Stop! STOP IT!” I finally reach her, clamping my hand over the phone.

“What’s the big deal?” She giggles and laughs for several milicycles. “Okay, it’s a big deal. A very big deal. The biggest deal I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m trying to stay anonymous here. Pictures don’t help.”

“But I won’t show them to anybody else.”

“What about this Janie person?”

“She’s my best friend! She wouldn’t show anyone else. Promise!”

Looking down at her, I can hear hints of Leeanna in her voice. I hold out my hand.

“Give me the phone.”

She doesn’t do it right away but I motion with my hand for her to give it up and she eventually does. I scroll through the photos, deleting all but two, one that shows my face and one that shows my big deal. I hand back the phone.

“There are two photos left. You can show them to Janie and then delete them. You understand me?” I almost added “young lady” to that.

“Yeah, I got it. So, what you waiting for?”

That little slip and slide across the tile didn’t help my back any. I step in the hot tub and ease down into the water. It’s not nearly as hot as the Miryian Waters but it’s still pretty warm.

“Here, try this,” says Julie as she stands and leans over me to reach the controls for the tub, giving me a good view of her naked body. All of it. Slim legs, boyish hips but a nice ass. And she’s a natural redhead. The water jets fire up as she settles back into the tub.

“Ohh yeah. That’s good,” I moan. Sliding a little to my right, I position myself so the jets hit the exact spot. That’s it. Right there. I lean back just a bit to rest on the padded edge and close my eyes while the water jets work over my lower back. Julie was right, this is helping.

After a few decicycles, I feel something lightly touching my upper thigh then it slides down to my inner thigh before making contact with my dick.

“What are you doing?” I ask without moving or opening my eyes.

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”

“Don’t cha’ want to fool around a little bit? It’s not like you’re married or anything.”

“What makes you think I’m not married?”

“You’re not wearing a ring, Sugar.”

I lift the chain, letting the ring dangle in the air. “What do you think this is?”

“I saw that but it ain’t your ring, it’s too small.”

“It’s my wife’s ring. She’s got mine.”

“And where’s your wife?”

Where indeed. “My spouse … is dead and buried, along with our daughter. I’ll never see either one ever again.”

The small hand that had been massaging my cock, starting to bring it to life, immediately withdrew. “OH GOD! I had no idea! I’m so sorry! When did it happen?”

Today, about two cycles ago. “Last week, an auto accident, hit and run, other driver was probably drunk. Hit two other cars before taking them out.”

“That’s horrible! The cops couldn’t do anything?”

“No, not enough evidence.”

“If someone did shit like that to my family, I wouldn’t let it stand.”

“I agree completely, Julie.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The room phone rings at the ungodly hour of 7:30 a.m.

At least, that’s what the cheap clock radio on the nightstand reads.

“Hello?” I answer after lunging for the handset.

“Alex, it’s Julie. Can I come in?”

“Julie? Didn’t you just get off work six hours ago?”

“Yeah, but I had to tell Janie about you.”

“And?”

“I told her the pictures didn’t do you justice.”

“Wait. Are you …”

“We’ve got breakfast.”

Jeez. I should tell her to drop dead but I do need to find some kind of transportation and quick. Looking the way I do now, my driver’s license picture doesn’t match so a rental will be tough, plus I don’t want my name out there anyway. A little local help is exactly what I need.

“Okay, give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

“Don’t bother. You’ll just have to get undressed.”

“No way!”

“No funny business, I promise. We know it’s too soon. She just wants to see, that’s all.”

Local help. It’s a small price to pay.

“Hurry up.”

“Great! We’re in the lobby. How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled. Moist, almost sloppy.”

“Got it.”

There’s a knock at my door in about ten decicycles. I peek through the peep hole and see Julie and a second girl. If it’s a show they want. I throw open the door.

“Hello, ladies. What can I do for you?”

I’m stark naked, hanging out for all to see. Julie starts to laugh but her friend just stares, mouth open, eyes as big as golf balls.

“Hey, Alex. This is my BFF, Janie.”

“Charmed, Janie. Would you two like to come in?”

“Sure. Here’s your breakfast.”

Julie walks in, handing me a bag with several Styrofoam clamshell containers stacked on top of each other. Janie just stands outside, still agog.

“Janie! Get in here!” Julie hisses.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Don’t worry. He’s cool.”

Janie looks up at my face for the first time since we were formally introduced. “I’m cool,” I assure her.

She slowly walks past the door and into the room, jumping a bit when I close it. Luckily, no one else walked by while the door was open. I take the top container out of the bag and open it. Hot scrambled eggs, just a tiny bit drier than I like but good enough.

“Now that you ladies have seen all you can, I’ll get dressed and eat. If you don’t mind.”

“Actually,” Julie says, shyly. “Could you, like, uhh, not get dressed yet.”

“I don’t want my breakfast to get cold.”

“Oh, go ahead and eat. We’ll just watch.”

“What kind of fetish are you girls into?”

“Fetish?!” Janie asks.

“It’s nothing like that,” says Julie. “I just want to see what you look like doing that so I can remember and … you know, think about it when I … you know.”

I don’t know how I feel about being someone else’s masturbatory fantasy, though I probably was the same thing in the other world, at least until I started acting more like the Queen. Maybe even after for some people. At least Julie is being explicit about it. And she’ll owe me after were done.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but if I get burned, it’s on you.”

“Great!”

The room has a round table near the window along with two chairs. I had drawn the curtains last night when I went to bed and they were still closed. I pull up a chair and sit down. The girls sit opposite me on the bed, Julie smiling and Janie close to hyperventilating. After polishing off the eggs, I check out the rest of the contents of the bag. I think they had brought me at least two of everything that was available.

“This is really way too much food for one person. I hate to waste it. If you girls would like to share it with me …”

“Thanks!” Julie exclaims. “I was hoping you’d ask. I’ll have the biscuits and gravy.”

“What about you, Janie?”

“Uhhhh, sure.”

I pull the table closer to the bed. Janie takes the other chair and Julie sits on the bed. Julie digs right in but Janie is more hesitant, half the time concentrating on her food and the other half on me.

I could be fucking either or both of these girls right this very moment, all I have to do is ask. Hell, not ask, demand. Who knows what else I could get them to do. I got a taste of being a beautiful person in the other world but being a bad ass witch complicated things. Pretty sure I created more fear than lust. At least that was what I was aiming for. To be truthful, I was probably more comfortable with fear because fear is a more manly emotion than lust. The chances of a man being lusted after are much lower than being feared. You can be feared regardless of how you look but being a sex object requires a certain basic hotness that most men can’t aspire to.

I certainly didn’t before now. Johnathyn came awfully close but he was uncomfortable about it. I’m beginning to understand that feeling.

Now, back home, I’m one of the beautiful people. With my hot looks, body and … equipment, I’m attracting attention wherever I go. Keeping a low profile may be impossible. There’s no doubt I’m gonna have to change my method of operation.

“So, have either of you ladies ever heard of the Consortium? I think they’ve got an operation around here.”

Julie shakes her head “No” while she swallows. “I don’t think so. I’d know if someone used a company credit card. We always require credit cards unless you’re a ‘special customer. ’”

Her bare foot touches my crotch. I let it stay there.

“You ever heard of the Consortium, Janie?” I ask. She’s taken aback but recovers.

“I’m not sure. Blackhills Mining has a dig about fifteen miles away. I think I read somewhere that they’re a member of this Consortium thing.”

“Where’d you see that?” asks Julie.

“In the newspaper last month. I read more than the comics, fashion and the wedding announcements, you know.”

Fifteen miles away? That doesn’t make any sense.

“What do they do out there?”

“Coal, I guess. It’s either coal or limestone in this part of Indiana.”

I guess they could hide a portal on the grounds of a coal mine but we’re a lot closer than fifteen miles to the Winthrop base on the other side. There must be some kind of spatial distortion on transporting between worlds, though it must be constant if Pegues used the same spot every time to leave and arrive. It’d be interesting to experiment but I don’t have the time now. I’m full and the girls are just picking at their food as they stare at me and sigh quietly.

“Well, I can’t say this hasn’t been one of the weirder experiences in my life but I’ve got to get going. When’s check out, Julie?”

“Don’t worry, sugar. All taken care of. As I said, you’re a ‘special customer. ’”

“Okay. If that’s the case ...” I start to stand up but before I get six inches out of my chair, Janie pops up, hitting the table with her legs and shaking everything on it.

“Can I touch it!” she blurts, immediately covering her mouth with her hands after she said it.

“You mean … it?”

She looks at Julie, who nods her head. Janie looks back at me.

“Yes,” she says quietly.

No harm in that. “Sure.”

“Could you make it …hard?”

“I suppose I could.”

“No! Let me!” cries Julie. “I’ve been thinking about this all night!”

“That’s fine, but before we start, do either of you know where I could get a truck or a cargo van cheap?”

They look at each other for a few milicycles before Janie pipes up. “Earl Sweeney’s always got something for sale like that.”

“Will it be in decent shape?”

“Earl’s a hell of a mechanic,” says Julie. “He takes pride in his work.”

“Good. Does he collect guns by any chance?”

“Sugar, this is southern Indiana. Who doesn’t?”

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

I let the girls take a few pictures posing with my fully erect dick, pictures where you couldn’t see my face. I’d actually been curious myself about how big I was now.

Julie was very enthusiastic, licking, stroking, sucking and kissing until I was hard as stone and almost eleven inches long. She would have kept going and I’d have let her if my ring hadn’t been dangling between us. It doesn’t matter where I am and that my spouse is a man, I’m still married and better start acting that way.

You never realize how cruel God is until he gives you an eleven inch cock and then makes you feel guilty about using it. Thanks old man.

Julie understood. “Too soon,” she said.

“Like never,” I thought.

After our photo session, the girls offer to take me shopping for some clothes. They are disappointed when I insist they be used. A guy with nothing but new clothes looks a bit suspicious. Luckily, Loogootee has a St. Vincent DePaul thrift shop.

The girls treat me like their own personal Ken Doll, except for being anatomically correct. They get to watch me change clothes several times, enjoying every minute of it. I get an ego boost from the whole thing too.

We go to Earl Sweeney’s auto repair and used car sales shortly after eleven cycles uhh hours. He has an older Extended Cab Ford Ranger 4 x 4 with a topper over the bed which is just perfect. Basic black, nothing fancy, mechanically sound. He trades me even up for one of the military M4A1’s and thinks he’s getting the better of me. No one asks where I got it from and I don’t ask if he has the necessary permits and licenses.

Everyone’s happy.

I was on the road to Indianapolis by 2:00 pm. It was Thursday, May 24th. I had left on November 15th, just a little over seven months earlier. It seemed like years. I promised the girls I’d look them up if I ever came back this way. I was lucky in that there was a gun show in Indianapolis starting the next day, Friday, May 25th. I spent the night in a sleeping bag in the bed of the truck, parked in a State park.

It felt just like home. I was heart sick when I woke up, remembering where I was.

Selling at the gun show was ridiculously easy. Just walk around with the rifle on your shoulder, a “For Sale” sign in the muzzle. I could have gotten rid of my entire inventory but I wanted to keep a low profile. The trick was going to be the military weapons. You could sense if the guy you were talking to was a real wheeler dealer. If he was, you could broach the subject. The sooner I could sell them, the better but I wasn’t going to just give them away. By the end of the show on Sunday, I had sold almost one third of the guns, including a M4A1 at an insane price. Before leaving town on Monday, I had converted the cash back to gold. In the time I was gone, the price of gold had dropped but the value of the guns had increased. I was going to make money on the deal. I followed the gun show to its next two stops and was sold out by Saturday of the third week.

That’s when it happened.

The third show was at the Illinois State Fairgrounds, renting space in one of the large buildings. There were a couple of other traveling shows at the same place in different buildings. One was a computer show. I ended up buying some new equipment to replace what I had left behind when I escaped in New York. More importantly, there was a New Age fair in a smaller building.

As soon as I walked in, I could tell there were some believers in magic in the building. Ever since returning, I had strained to do something magical but always came up dry, even the smallest levitation of a feather. Nothing. And it felt like nothing inside, too.

I hadn’t realized how intertwined I was over there with magic until it was gone. Once the shock of returning wore off, I began to feel as if I were empty, devoid of any strength beyond that of my muscles. Over there, it was like I was always tapped into a hidden battery, ready to just flip the switch and let the juice flow. Here, I was cut off. But, when I entered the room, I could feel a steady drip of power, slowly filing my tank. Even the smallest act of magic would have drained the tank dry but it was there, available, in this world and I could wield it as the seventh son of a seventh son. Pegues was right, there are hot spots. I just need to learn to do more with less. Unfortunately, we’re going our separate ways by the end of tomorrow but it gave me hope. I ought to be able to find something like this in New York, a gathering of believers in magic. And when I do, the training begins.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Using the free wi-fi at various McDonalds as I worked my way across the Midwest unloading the guns, I had been searching for any information about Alex Thompson, to see if there were charges pending against me. I also searched for any mention of Jacob or Ian McShane. Jacob had plead guilty to conspiracy to steal information and gotten a reduced sentence, probably for future testimony against McShane, who was out on bail awaiting trial. Or testimony against me if I was caught. Jacob was scheduled for release in the next few weeks. Nothing filed against me but there were a number of investigations that had been started but were on hold after my disappearance.

I thought about trying to contact Tommy or Frank. I didn’t think either one would rat me out but the cops likely talked to them after I disappeared and probably put the fear of God into them. It’s not worth the risk right now. The first thing I’ll need to do is create a new identity. Gun shows are great places to establish contacts among the more paranoid segments of the American population. They are full of how-to-it books on everything from build-it-yourself nuclear bomb shelters to your own home made missile defense system. New identities are kinda middle of the road for these folk. I bought a couple of the books and studied up on the techniques. I didn’t want to hire anyone to do the work. They might talk if pressured. I’d spent my professional life breaking into computer systems and taking information. Now, I’d use those skills to insert information.

It took a couple of weeks and visits to the Social Security, Internal Revenue, United States Post Office and New York Bureau of Motor Vehicles data bases to have a driver’s license and social security card in the name of “Lance Mastiff” waiting for me in a Brooklyn Post Office Box when I got to town.

I know. That’s a name you’re likely to remember. It’s just barely above a porn actor’s name. Or maybe it IS a porn actor’s name. Either way, the name is a better match for my new looks and my new approach. No more laying low.

Once I get my new identity papers in hand, I check on the rest of my assets. The balance of my coins are still in the safety deposit box of a local bank, the box held in the name of “The Freedom Trust,” a legal entity I set up to hold my gold in a name not associated with me, just in case the feds or local police came looking for it.

The last thing I have to do is find a place to stay. Camping in the truck is all well and good for the trip here, but they aren’t going to let me stay in Central Park. I know just the place, if it’s available. When I pull up in front of the store, the faded, yellow, hand printed “Apartment for Rent” sign is still posted in the front window by the door. I push the door open and there’s a familiar tinkling of a wind chime as the top of the door brushes against it as it opens.

“Anybody here?” I shout, pushing the door fully open. There’s no answer right away but, in a few milicycles, an older woman calls out from an area behind the glass counter.

“I’ll be with you in just a sec! You can look around.”

“That’s fine. Take your time.”

There’s no need. It’s the same inventory she’s had for sale the last ten years. My mother was friends with the proprietor, Mrs. Janet LaRouche, for many years. We’d visit this store a lot. I wander slowly through aisles; taking in the familiar smells of herbs and spices, the basic ingredients of her spells because Mrs. Janet LaRouche is a witch. A Wiccan to be more accurate.

It makes me smile to think about all the ceremonies and meetings Mom drug Terry and I to, though he was always more willing than I. Different women were there but always a core group of fifteen, lead by LaRouche, casting spells and creating charms, sometimes for a specific client, other times just for general world peace but always for positive things, never for evil. They were always trying to help. They helped us several times when money was tight. It embarrassed me at the time and I’m still not comfortable with those memories but I know they meant well. That’s what I thought a witch was until my trip down the rabbit hole, an odd, slightly funny smelling, and ineffective but kind old lady.

I know better now.

Janet has a few nice, tidy apartments above the store which she rents at a very reasonable rate but only to people with the correct aura. She’ll “read” a prospective tenant and reject him or her if their aura is wrong. The apartments are empty more often than they’re occupied. I don’t know what my aura is like now but it’s worth a shot. I hear her behind me as she enters the room. I turn as she starts to try to sell me something.

“What can I do for you, young man? Some trouble with your love life? Need help with your studies? I have just the thing for any trouble you may … Oh My!”

I’m getting used to it now; the way women react when they first see me. Most manage to keep quiet but even the quiet ones check me out. I’d object but I did the same thing to women before I crossed over to the other side. I give Mrs. LaRouche a big friendly smile. She’s the same, shortish, plump, late middle age ex-hippie that I remember. Her knees buckle for just a moment but she recovers, strolling over to the display counter.

“I’m sorry you … uhhh, surprised me. What can I help you with Mr … ?”

“Mastiff. Lance Mastiff. I was told that you had an apartment for rent.”

“I do but not just for anyone.”

“I understand, you need to be certain I’m a trustworthy tenant. Do you need some references?” Of which I have none.

“No, Mr. Mastiff. If you’ll give me your hand, I’ll get my own references.”

Walking over to the counter, still smiling at her, I place my hand on the glass top. She ignores the hand, locking her eyes on my face. I wait a moment before disturbing her. “Mrs. LaRouche?”

“What? …. Oh yes, sorry,” she blushes. She takes my hand and closes her eyes, breathing slowly. After a few seconds, she lightly gasps, tightly scrunching her eyes. Another few seconds later, she gasps again, a bit more loudly this time, twisting her head to the right side, then back to the left. She takes several deep breaths and then yelps, dropping my hand and backing away. She stares at me over the top of her glasses.

“Have we met before, Mr. Mastiff?”

“It’s possible. I know a number of people who are interested in magic, that’s how I found out about your apartments. Perhaps at a séance?”

“I don’t think so, I’d remember.”

“You’re likely right. We probably haven’t met then.”

“But your aura. Something is familiar. You’ve suffered terrible losses for someone so young.”

Maybe she’s not so ineffective. “Yes. My … spouse and daughter. Recently.”

“Other family members also.”

Okay, she’s good. “You’re right. My mother and brother.”

“And now you seek … retribution?”

Fine, very good. “What of it?”

“But there is more, much more. Your aura is … I’ve never seen anything like it. Twisted or turned or reversed or inside out … I-I don’t know how to describe it. It’s frightening.”

“So I can forget about the apartment?”

She says nothing, just studying me for several seconds, then holds out her hand again. “Let me take another look.”

I do as she asks and she closes her eyes, holding my hand with both of hers, one on top and the other on the bottom. She begins to talk to herself.

“So much pain … and anger … righteous anger … better there should be peace … no fear … reckless … determined … short sighted … no future.”

She lets my hand slip from between hers.

“You are not a danger to me or my friends, at least not directly. I would really like to study your aura. There is so much I do not understand.” She takes off her glasses, polishing the lenses with the edge of her apron before putting them firmly in place over her nose. “You are interesting. Sometimes that trumps my better judgment. Today, you’re lucky. When will you move in?”

“Thank you, Mrs. LaRouche. You won’t regret it, I promise. I don’t have much with me so I’ll move in today, if that’s okay?”

“First and last months rent, in advance.”

“No problem. How about the first six months, in advance?”

“If you had said that at the start, this would have been a shorter conversation, Mr. Mastiff.”

“Please, call me Lance, Mrs. LaRouche.”

“As you wish.”

She leads me up the narrow stairs to the second floor. There’s a short hallway with a door at the end and on either side.

“You can have your choice, Lance. They’re quite similar, though the one on the left has a bit more closet space.”

“Which one faces the street?”

“The one on the right.”

“That’ll be fine.”

She opens the door and we walk in. It’s small but complete. Separate bedroom, full bath, hardwood floors, skylight, kitchen’s a touch undersized but opens on one wall to the living room so it feels more spacious. It’s as nice as any of my home made digs. Looking out the window, I can see what really makes this the perfect place. Two store fronts down the street is a voodoo supply store. Across the street from that is a bookstore that specializes in the occult and right next to that store is a magic themed restaurant. In the two blocks on either side of Janet LaRouche’s business, there are no less than twelve magic related stores, including a classic magician’s supply company.

It’s like the Little Italy for magic.

I can feel the belief in the air. It’s unfocused, diffuse but there. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a quarter. Leaving it in the palm of my open hand, I concentrate on the coin. It quivers for several seconds before slowly rising just a fraction of an inch and hovering a moment before dropping back down. I close my hand, clutching the coin.

“Is everything satisfactory, Lance?”

“More than satisfactory, Mrs. LaRouche.”

*** * * * *** * * * ***

I’ve hit a brick wall.

I’ve never hit a brick wall before, at least not one that I couldn’t eventually break. The Consortium has me stymied. I’ve been able to get inside their network but there’s a lot of stuff not on the network. There’s reference to a second, strictly internal, network, one that’s not connected to the internet. I’ve scoured the available network for some connection to the other but no luck. Unfortunately, that’s not the only problem.

New York is getting on my nerves.

The crowds, the noise, the congestion, everything that makes New York, New York is starting to annoy the hell out of me. I’ve lived here my whole life and never gave a second thought to living any other place but now I can’t imagine staying here another second after I finish with the Consortium. I don’t know where I can go but I can’t stay here.

My growing disgust for my hometown makes working on the hack even harder, one frustration feeding on the other. Working on building my magic muscles takes away some of the stress but doesn’t make any progress on the main problem.

Eventually, it becomes clear that I’m never going to get inside from the outside. I’ve had to actually physically break into a system only twice before in my entire career and in both cases I hired some experts to do the actual breaking and entering. Those targets weren’t nearly as security conscious as the Consortium. This time, I don’t want to involve any outsiders which means I’ll have to do it all myself.

Their office is on 56th Street, across from Central Park. I know it’s hard to believe but I’ve never spent much time in Central Park. There’s nothing there that really interested me, being the ultimate city boy. The city’s lousy with basketball courts so I didn’t need Central for that. I stop by the Consortium just before lunch and set up camp in the bus stop shelter near the entrance. Dressed in baggy clothes with a baseball cap pulled low, I’m fairly inconspicuous as the employees come pouring out of the building.

The first thing I notice is the extremely strong magic vibe, much stronger than the background level back at Mrs. LaRouche’s. Then it hits me. Of course! It’s one thing to have a general, nebulous belief that magic exists; it’s a whole other thing to KNOW magic exists. There are people in this building who know for an undisputed fact that magic is alive and well in another universe. That certainty is power to me; direct, focused power. There are also likely people who work there who have heard rumors, people who aren’t true believers but who could be pushed over the edge into belief, given the right information, thereby making this an even hotter hotspot. The question is how do I do that?

I take a slow walk around the front and back of the office building. There are fixed cameras in the front but tracking cameras in the back. All doors have ID swipes to get in but just push bars to get out, probably for fire or other emergency evacuations. There is a security post just inside the front door, manned by two guards. I’m not picking up any wi-fi signals, encrypted or otherwise, from them, though there are several in the neighborhood, including Starbucks.

I need to think about this for awhile. It’s a nice day so I cross the street and head into the park. The farther I get away from the traffic and the street noise, the calmer I feel, even though there are still a lot of people around. As I walk deeper into the park, there are fewer and fewer people. I end up sitting on a bench near a sports field. There aren’t any organized teams playing but there are some kids running around, their mothers sitting on other benches scattered around the area. The sun is shining, the sky is a deep blue, the grass is green and the kids are laughing. All seems right with the world, though I know that’s crap.

For some reason, my problems don’t seem so unsolvable. Just looking around at the scenery, I can feel the tension melt away. The problems don’t disappear but more options occur to me, potential answers to be sorted through, evaluated and, if lucky, implemented. Just then, a soccer ball goes whizzing by my head, followed quickly by two kids on foot.

“Sorry, Mister!” the blonde shouts as he chases the ball down. The dark haired boy hangs back.

“That’s okay,” I shout back. “No harm, no foul. Shouldn’t you guys be in school?”

“No,” answers the blonde. “We’re home schooled. Mom brings us out for recess and to play with other home schooled kids and to see all the people playing different instruments.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal. You guys be careful with that ball.”

The blonde goes charging past me, ball in hand, closely followed by his shy friend. “We will,” he assures me. “Thanks!”

I give a quick wave with my hand. “You’re welcome.” Looking around, I notice the number of people playing a musical instrument or performing or drawing or some other act, attracting watchful crowds. I can feel the germ of an idea begin to develop in my mind. It may take a month or so before I can be ready but it may get me everything I want.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Naturally, some people wanted to blame me. The loss happened on my watch but I wasn’t the one who alienated the witch Alexia in the first place. I just passed on a request from the First Minister, which was approved by the higher up honchos of the Consortium. I was trusted with effectuating policies, not making them. No one asked me. If they had, I’d have told them to leave the Thompson family alone or make damn sure you get them all.

I got stuck with the consequences of a half-assed job. After almost two months in limbo, the big man decides he wants to talk to me directly. I’d already been debriefed by everyone and his dog, second guessed from hell and back but no one had ever said I should be fired. That’s the interesting thing about being assigned over there. You’ve got instant job security. It’s better than tenure in a University. Simply by crossing over, you become privy to a secret the Consortium can’t afford to be revealed. If they were to fire you, you become a security risk, despite the twenty or so non-disclosure forms you signed during your career. The Consortium wants you where they can keep track of you, which means in an office in the building. I’ve been given nothing but busy work since returning to this world, something I’m not used to. In the past, the name of “Donna White” was on the short list of fast rising employees. No more.

Not that anyone would consult me but the scuttlebutt is we aren’t doing that well. The company had gotten too dependant on imports through the portal, spending resources to expand production over there instead of looking for new sources over here. The economics clearly favored that strategy. One look at unit costs made that obvious but there was more than just unit costs involved. You can’t afford to become dependant on a single source no matter how profitable. If something goes wrong, you’re in trouble.

Something went wrong and we’re in trouble.

My appointment with the CEO is at 1:45 p.m. today. I had lunch at a little bistro two blocks from the office so I walked there and was heading back. There was a small crowd on the sidewalk about half a block away from the entrance to our building, fifteen to twenty people. As I got closer, I could see that some busker has set up a makeshift magic show. Whoever he is, he’s a handsome devil. Most of the tiny audience are secretaries from the Consortium who likely had no interest in magic. The man wears tight, black pants and a tailored black silk shirt that emphasizes his narrow waist and wide shoulders. The top two buttons are open, revealing some of his well developed chest. A barely tamed mane of jet black hair, sparkling eyes and a neat, short beard and moustache give him a devilish look, sexy and dangerous. He could have drawn a crowd just standing there, leaning against the building.

Unfortunately, his act doesn’t match his looks. My father was an amateur magician. I even helped him with his act for a few years as his “lovely assistant” so I know most of the secrets. Dad was pretty good and some of his friends were very good, not professionals but still very good. This guy was clearly a beginner. The tricks are basic and performed without much panache or showmanship, though his patter between tricks wasn’t bad. Or maybe it was his smile, which causes most of the young women to titter like schoolgirls. Luckily, I’m past all that.

He seems to be winding down when he reaches into a brown paper shopping bag and removes a twelve pack case of Coke.

“For my last few tricks, I’ll need the help of one of you lovely ladies.”

Five of them eagerly step forward.

“Alright,” he chuckles, “five of you lovely ladies. Just open this case of Coke, remove the cans and set them on the table.”

The girls quickly tear off the end and have all twelve cans lined up. He reaches into the same shopping bag and pulls out a stack of red plastic cups.

“Thank you, that’s perfect. Now, if each of you would take a cup, open a can and pour the Coke into the cup.”

Each girl picks up a can, pops the top with an audible hiss and empties the can into the twelve ounce cup.

“Great. Wonderful. Each of you, take a sip from the cup in your hand. Just a small sip.”

They all sip in unison. He steps next to the first girl.

“Is that a regular Coke?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Then set it right here.” He points to the table. She sets it down and rejoins the crowd. He asks each girl the same thing, gets the same answer and they do the same thing, lining up the cups on the table.

“Thanks. You all did beautifully. We have five nearly full cups of regular Coke. I need one person …” he looks over the small crowd, fixing his eyes on me.

“Would you assist me, Ms. White?”

How the hell does he know me? All the other people look my way. I don’t remember ever seeing this man before and if I did, I certainly would.

He persists. “How about it, Ms. White?”

I’m suspicious but nothing is going to happen this close to our security. I step up to the table.

“Certainly I’ll help, Mr. …?”

“Mastiff. Lance Mastiff, Ms. White.”

What a name! “What do you want me to do, Mr. Mastiff?”

He slides right up to me, looking down into my eyes. “There are sooo many things I would like you to do, Donna, but let’s start with this.”

Several of the girls sigh loudly as he spins around, pointing at the line of cups on the table.

“Pick one … and throw it at me.”

“WHAT?”

He backs up until he’s about ten feet away from me. “Just as I said, throw one of those nearly full cups of Coke at me.”

“It will be a mess!”

“Perhaps. Afraid you can’t do it, Ms. White?”

I stare at him for a moment, then slowly approach the table. The Coke is still bubbling in each of the cups. I carefully pick up the fullest cup, adjust my grip and then whip it at his head, quickly stepping away from the Coke sloshing over the rim of the cup … but there’s no spilled Coke.

The cup zips towards him, tumbling through the air. He catches it with one hand, smiles and takes a sip. Not a drop spilled from it, even as it flew through the air upside down. The girls gasp.

“Now, it’s my turn. Get ready to catch it, Ms. White.”

“ME?! NO! I’ve got a meeting in just …”

He throws the cup at full speed, right at my face. I duck and reflexively raise my hand. Every one begins to shout and applaud. I open my eyes. The cup is resting in my upraised hand. I can feel its weight. Mastiff is standing next to me, removing the cup from my trembling hand.

“Well done, Donna!” He slowly upturns the cup, pouring the Coke onto the sidewalk. Until that moment, no Coke had escaped the cup. “How about a hand for my lovely assistant!” I look around as everyone applauds again. “Oh. One more thing, Ms. White. Could you hand me two of those unopened cans?”

I’m still a bit shaky from what just happened but manage to pick up and hand him two cans. He sets one on the table and begins to shake the other one violently with his left hand.

“I’m sure that you’re all familiar with what happens when you open a shaken can of Coke.” The women begin to back away. “Let’s see what happens when you …” his empty right hand goes behind his back and returns with an ice pick. “…do this.”

He puts the can on the table. Resting his left hand on the top, he drives the ice pick through one side and out the other. He quickly pulls it out and drives it in again, and again, and again. After punching at least a dozen holes in the can, he removes the ice pick and sticks it in the table.

The can does nothing, not a single spurt, dribble or drop escapes. There’s no doubt the can has holes in it, you can see the jagged edges of the aluminum can where the ice pick forced it outward. There’s even a little bit of Coke pooling at the point where the ice pick is stuck into the table. I felt the liquid slosh in the can when I picked it up. Some of the women edge back closer, bending down to get a better look. Mastiff grabs the other can I handed to him. He smiles broadly.

“Always like to end with a bit of a spectacle!”

He raises the can high above his head in his right hand and pops the top with his left. A stream of flame roars out of the opening, extending at least twenty feet into the air and changing colors, first blue, then red and finally a blindingly brilliant white. The flame stops as abruptly as it started, leaving everyone blinking and rubbing their eyes for a few seconds before the applause breaks out. Mastiff gives a half bow several times.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. You’re so kind. Thank you.”

“But what about that one?” asks a young woman, pointing to the can with all the holes.

“What was I thinking?” Mastiff declares. He picks up the can and tosses it in the air, catching it as it falls. He repeats this several times as he walks to the No Parking Zone about thirty feet away in front of the building, sits it on the street, turns and walks away. When he gets back to his table, he raises his hand and snaps his fingers.

The can explodes in a shower of brown foam, spinning and bouncing until all the liquid has sprayed out. The small crowd cheers and applauds, the women gathering in a tight pack around him as he smiles and kisses hands like a European Count. I slip away and retrieve the dissipated can from the gutter, making sure not to spill what little liquid remains.

I had recognized every single trick until the case of Coke appeared. They were all magic standards. What Mastiff did with those cans I have never seen done before, nothing even close. There is something going on here and I want to know what it is.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I was counting on my audience’s need to get back to work. They couldn’t hang around long after my act was done. Naturally, they were full of questions, a few of which actually involved the tricks.

My pat answer: that it was magic.

The rest were more personal, involving my address, cell phone number, email address, what I was doing later today after work or my Facebook page. Guess I’ll need to make a Facebook page. It’d be suspicious if an entertainer didn’t have one.

It took just a few minutes to clean up, pack up and cross the street into Central Park. I noticed White recovering that last can. It’s good that I’ve got her curious. And so quickly.

I hurry along the walking path, backpack full of supplies over one shoulder and folding table in the opposite hand. It takes at least ten minutes of fast walking before I reach the playing fields and collapse onto a bench.

Those few real magic tricks took everything I had. My performance of the traditional tricks that I bought from the neighborhood magic shop was disappointing. I need to spend more time practicing those. I want people to tell the difference when the real magic starts but I don’t want to be an embarrassment to the profession. Besides, once I get reasonably good, I can mix in some variations. Right now, I just want to rest and get my strength back

I’ve been coming here every day since discovering the place. The kids running around remind me of the children from the other world. I can imagine Leeanna playing with them, chasing and being chased, laughing and giggling while the mothers stay on the sidelines, keeping careful watch.

I used to do that.

No matter what town we entered, if the weather was nice, the children would come to watch the show. Johnathyn and his forge was always a sight to see. Soon enough, most would get bored and a game of some kind would start. Lee would join right in and I’d end up standing around with the rest of the mothers. I got used to it after awhile. It was always a good way to hear the local gossip but it was also relaxing, just sitting around, talking, watching your child play with other kids. Those later months, it all felt so natural.

Now, it’s a mixed bag. A daily reminder of what I lost but stimulating fond memories at the same time. It’d be nice to go over and mix with the young mothers but they might think I was trying to hit on them. Most are probably married and I don’t need the grief. For now, I’ll just crash here for awhile, recover, then head back to my apartment and start practicing again.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I barely made it to Lawson’s office after dropping the Coke can off in the basement lab for them to analyze. I don’t know how Mastiff did what he did. It should have been impossible but I’ve seen a lot of impossible these last few months. I was told that magic was unique to the other world. If it’s somehow crossed over to this world, we could be in serious trouble. Just raising that possibility makes me sound like a crazy lady, something I don’t need now, not with my precarious position within the company. If I’m going to say something, I need to exclude all other possibilities.

The lab monkeys gave me a lot of shit because I didn’t have a project code for them to use to assign the costs for the tests I requested. I finally remembered on old project code that was still listed in their computer as valid, though they were suspicious as hell. I’ll deal with them later.

I get a look of mild contempt from Lawson’s Personal Assistant Debbie until she recognizes me as one of the people who were watching Mastiff’s act.

“You’re the one who helped him!” she gasps. “Do you know anything about Lance?”

I recognize her too. She was one of the five who poured Coke into the cups. “Uhhh, no, I don’t know anything about him. You helped too. Do you know him?”

She visibly slumps down in her chair. I think she was hoping for some inside information to give her a leg up on the competition.

“No! Shelly, Janice and I were just coming back from lunch and there he was. Can you believe that? Someone like that, just standing outside this building.”

“He wasn’t that good a magician.” Not until the end.

“Who cares?! Did you see that ass?!”

I did. His ass, his chest, his arms, legs, thighs, shoulders, neck, face, mouth and eyes. Those eyes. Plus that telltale bulge in the front of his tight pants. Talk about impossible.
“Not bad.”

“NOT BAD?! Janice said that she’d like to take both hands and …”

Just then her intercom buzzes. She quickly picks up her handset. “Yes, Mr. Lawson …. She’s here, Sir … we were just talking, Sir … No, Sir. It won’t happen again … Yes, Sir, I promise.” She carefully replaces the handset, a look of fear in her eyes. “Mr. Lawson is waiting to see you, Ms. White.”

A great way to start this off. I nod my head and open the door. Terence Lawson is standing by his desk, one hand resting casually on the back of the chair opposite his desk, the other barely in the left front pocket of his very expensive suit pants. The suit coat was on a padded hanger in the small closet to his right, the door just barely open, revealing its contents; more expensive, finely tailored clothes. He pats the back of the chair with his right hand.

“Donna. Come in. Have a seat.”

His nonchalance had to be practiced. Every move was precise and planned out to put the other person on the defensive. Regardless of their position or purpose, he wanted them on the defensive. It doesn’t take much to put me there.

I sit down in the chair he was previously touching and he sits down in his desk chair, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled, with Lawson looking at me over his finger tips.

“Donna,” he begins. “Donna, Donna. What are we going to do with you?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Lawson.” Pink slip time? That would be odd.

“Where do we put you in this company?”

“My expertise is developing new resources for production.”

“Unfortunately, we seem to be suffering from a surplus of people in your field and a deficit of new supplies. That puts a bit of a crimp on our employment situation. We may be forced to do make some changes if the earnings don’t pick up.”

He means the shareholders are on his ass about the drop in our share price. A surefire way to get an immediate bump in the value of the stock is to announce layoffs, or as they are more euphemistically known, “right sizing.”

Lawson continues. “It’s truly a shame what happened over there when you were in charge. I’ve seen reports that there was over a hundred years worth of rare earth elements alone, just waiting to be exploited. All you had to do was keep a lid on it. That didn’t seem to be too much to ask.”

“Were you ever over there, Mr. Lawson?”

“Can’t say that I ever had the pleasure, though I have read all the reports, including yours.”

“Reports alone can’t convey the size of the job, the complexities.”

“Your predecessors seemed to be able to do it.”

“I did it too, for well over two years and three tours. It was a revolution driven by someone from our world. Once she got rolling, there was no way to stop it.”

“Then ‘she’ shouldn’t have been permitted to start rolling in the first place.”

“It was necessary to defer to the local authorities. Unfortunately, they were not united in purpose. There were too many agendas and not enough coordination.”

“Which is what you were supposed to provide. Coordination. So that we ultimately benefited.”

How do I make him understand? There was nothing that we had that Opulessa wanted, except to play with the Winthrop Group guards, and that was just a diversion, something to do when she became bored. We wanted Alexia dead and the Queen wanted her alive. The Queen won and then we all lost. I could not control a powerful witch. Not then and not now

“It’s all in my reports, Sir and the reports of the twenty six people who’ve debriefed me in the last two months.”

“Which I have read. We’ll talk again after I’ve had time to mull things over.”

Apparently, I was dismissed.

As I stood up, a thought occurred to me. “Mr. Lawson, do you believe in magic?”

He looked up at me for a moment. “I don’t really have a choice, do I? I’ve seen the videos from over there. I was assured they weren’t doctored in any way. Thank God we don’t have any of that sort of thing over here. Can you imagine what that power would be like in the wrong hands?”

“What about that power in the right hands?”

“What are you talking about, White?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to get back to you.”

I walk out, closing the door behind me. Let him mull that over too.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The damn videos make it look so easy.

There must be al least thirty home made videos on YouTube claiming that you too can learn to juggle. Some use weighted scarves, others bean bags but the one thing in common is they can do it and I can’t, at least not for very long.

I need to be able to actually juggle three cans for a minute or two before letting the magic kick in. So far, the best I can do is thirty seconds and it’s a shaky thirty seconds. I need to be confident, smooth, and professional. After a half hour of fruitless practice, there’s a knock at my door.

“Yes?”

“What in the name of Gia are you doing, Mr. Mastiff?”

“Ahhh, Mrs. LaRouche.” I look quickly around. There are nine cans scattered across the hardwood floors. Ooooo …. hardwood floors. Opening the door, I start apologizing right away.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about how that would sound in your store.”

“It sounded as if you were trying to destroy my floor. You will find that I am more tolerant than most landlords but even I have my limits. What exactly are you doing up here?”

“Hmmmm … yes. Working on something new for my act.”

“Your act?”

“Yes, I have a magic act.”

She looks surprised. “You?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Do you make money with this act?”

“Well, not yet, but I’m just starting out.”

“Do you expect to make money?”

No, I don’t. The act’s a scam. I just want to get inside the Consortium’s offices. “We’ll see, Mrs. LaRouche.”

“What do these beverage cans have to do with your act and why are they scattered across my floor?”

“I wanted to add some juggling to it.”

“And how is juggling magic?”

“It depends on how you do it. Right now, it’ll be a miracle if I can get the hang of it.”

She slowly bends down and picks up three cans, inspecting the floor for damage as she does. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t think about that and take precautions.

“Mrs. LaRouche, if I’ve damaged anything, I’ll have it fixed immediately. The last thing I want to do is …”

She straightens up, tosses one, a second and then a third can in the air, keeping them circling in front of her in perfect rhythm, a wry smile on her lips. She continues for about a minute and then stops, letting the two cans in the air fall and stack on top of the can in her hand. I have to admit I wasn’t expecting that.

“You’re just full of surprises, Mrs. LaRouche.”

“I haven’t always been a store owner, Mr. Mastiff. I was a juggler for a touring Renaissance Fair when I was younger. It’s like riding a bike.”

“I can ride a bike but I can’t do that.”

“It really isn’t that difficult, Lance. You just need to be able to repeat the throwing motion exactly the same every time and know where to focus your attention. Gravity does the rest.”

“It doesn’t look that easy.”

“That’s the trick, isn’t it? I guess, in that respect, juggling is like a magic act. If people know the secret, it’s not as impressive. Your audience thinks ‘Hey, I could do that.’”

“Not my act.”

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

Mastiff kept performing outside of our building for several weeks, the crowds slowly growing larger by the day. Eventually, the guards asked him to move because the crowd began to block access to the building. He just moved across the street to the park and continued performing. He kept adding new things to the act, one every week.

This week, at the end of the rings, he held all four rings together in both hands, turning them around once while sliding them through his tightly clenched fists. When he was done, they became a single solid ring. I managed to get my hands on one of the single rings after the act. There was no slight of hand involved. What was your classic set of four interlocking rings became a single, solid ring. They never left his hands during the transformation. It was impossible.

I took several videos of his act and sent them to some of the performers my father knew from the old days, guys who were either still performing or had kept a hand in the business. None of them had any idea how he was doing it. Two of them actually came to New York to see him in person. Still nothing, other than they each felt compelled to get his autograph after the show.

By now, I think almost everyone in the building has seen Mastiff perform. The prevailing rumor is that he’s the real deal, a true magician. I can’t accept that. I know that sometimes a performer can create a trick so unique that it may take years for someone to figure it out, though, eventually, someone always does. The problem is, Mastiff has at least six of those tricks in his act right now. What will next week bring?

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It’s getting stronger. Not just the Consortium building but others in the neighborhood are radiating some level of a belief in magic. The level of belief grows as the size of my crowds grows. Right now, the Park police have a couple of officers stationed near my daily lunchtime show, strictly for crowd control.

My problem is that all this belief is only present during the daytime. It’s concentrated here during the day, during work hours. After work, it dissipates as everyone heads home. There’s still some residual belief due to guards and some employees working late but I need more than that to successfully break in, access the internal network, download what I need and get out.

This may take longer than I hoped it would.

At least my juggling is getting better. Ms. LaRouche has been giving me lessons and I, in return, have been fixing her supper every evening she gives me a lesson. This too has taken longer than I had planned on but it has been all for the best. Not only have I been able to increase the number and intensity of believers in magic but I have also strengthened my magic muscles. I can do more with less now. Nowhere near what I could do on the other side but a lot more than I could do right after getting back to New York.

Mrs. LaRouche asked that we eat down in the shop tonight, which is fine by me. It’s an interesting place, full of jars and bottles of this thing or that, kind of like an old style pharmacy but instead of making a pill to fix a headache, she mixes a potion to cure a heartache. I thought the place was cool even when I was a little kid coming here with Mom. It was one of the few places she drug us to that wasn’t so bad. I was slowly wandering up and down the aisles just as I did as a child when Mrs. LaRouche came in.

“What have you prepared for us tonight, Lance?”

“Something simple. Pot Roast.”

“I’ll be ready in a minute or two. I’ve cleaned a spot on the counter. You can set everything there.”

She returns to the back rooms and I set out plates, cutlery, napkins and glasses along with the serving bowls. I’d separated the roast from the potatoes, carrots and other vegetables. The roast was on a carving board, the vegetables in the bowls. When she returned, Mrs. LaRouche had an open bottle of red wine with her.

“Mrs. LaRouche! Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Hardly, Lance. This is a bottle of wine made by my father many years ago. It was his hobby. He was rather good at it.”

“Don’t waste it on me! I‘m not much of a wine enthusiast.”

“Don’t worry. There’s more where this came from.”

She pulls two high stools from behind the long wooden checkout counter and we both sit down to eat. She pours a small amount of wine in my drinking glass. It’s a clear, dark red with a fruity aroma. I take a sip. Not bad. Very drinkable. She pours more into my glass.

“I apologize, Mrs. LaRouche. If I knew wine was on the menu, I’d have gotten the right kind of glasses.”

“Not a problem. These will do just fine.” She pours a small amount in her glass and tips it my way. I raise my glass slightly and we clink rims.

“Cheers, Mrs. LaRouche.”

“Cheers, Lance.”

I slice several pieces off the pot roast and fill both plates. Just as we start to eat a customer comes in to pick up an order. I’m not sure but I think I recognize her. She may have been part of a group of white witches Mom used to hang with. Mrs. LaRouche had everything already bagged up so she was in and out quickly.

“Sorry for the delay,” she says as she climbs back onto the stool.

“No biggie. It’s all part of being self employed. I don’t mean this as an insult or anything but do these potions do anything at all?”

“You mean, am I a fraud?”

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t get the magic potion thing. I’m pretty sure I understand how magic works.”

“You’re referring to your little parlor tricks?”

“Touché. No, I mean the real thing.”

She gives me a sideways glance as she carefully slices the meat then dips it in the gravy. “When did you get that experience with ‘the real thing’?”

“Someplace else, not around here.”

“Not where, when.”

“Several months ago.”

“And now where.”

I take a bite of potatoes. “That’s hard to explain.”

“I can imagine.”

We eat in silence for a minute or two, listening to the traffic and crowds as they pass by the shop. I still miss the quietness of the other world. Before I went there, all I knew was the rush rush lifestyle of New York. But that world opened my eyes to another way to live. Slower, quieter, deeper. The little things meant so much more over there. Being back in New York, I find myself irritated a hundred different ways every day. I do my best not to think about Johnathyn and Leeanna but it’s impossible.

I realize that I’ve been concentrating on my plate. Looking up at Mrs. LaRouche, I see that she’s slowly chewing but looking intently at me. She swallows, then quickly finishes her glass of wine. She picks up the bottle, silently offering to refill my glass. I wave her off she picks up her own glass, slowly pouring the clear, dark red elixir down the inner side until the glass is two thirds full.

“Do you know why I rented to you, Lance?”

“My trust-worthy face?”

“Hardly. It was because you were a mystery to me. You still mostly remain a mystery, though I have been able to discover a few things about you.”

“Such as?”

“I’ll save that for later. To answer your question, yes, my potions do work. Not as well as they used to but that isn’t the fault of the ingredients nor my fault as a conjurer. The world has changed. There is nothing inherently magical about wheat grass or sailor’s wort. Medicinal yes, but magical? No. However, while potions do not create magic, they can carry magic, store magic, deliver magic over great distances. They are like batteries, initially inert but, once charged, they can deliver quite a punch.”

“Why so many different potions?”

“Each one is optimized to accomplish a certain job. A love potion could be used to cure warts but not as well as one specifically designed for the job. Small changes can make a big difference.”

“So, magic potions don’t create magic but they allow the more efficient use of magic. Interesting.”

“I know why I find it interesting; it’s been my life’s work. Why do you find it interesting?”

“I may have a use for a working potion.”

“What use is that … Alex?”

Damn it! “Who?”

“Alex Thompson. Son of Jackie Thompson. Brother of Terry Thompson.”

She’s sharp. I knew that before I ever came here. I’d be better off admitting it rather than insult her intelligence and talent. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t, not until I saw you wandering up and down my aisles, checking out the merchandise. Just as you did when your mother brought you and your brother with her.”

“That’s it?”

“It was the final piece of the puzzle. Your aura was somewhat familiar but also different from any that I had experienced before.”

“Different how?”

“Twisted … turned … inverted … reversed … something but then back to the way it was. I couldn’t explain it but once I concentrated on what I could explain, then it became more apparent.”

“So, using ‘Lance Mastiff” as my name …”

“Please. I knew that had to be a stage name of some kind. ‘Lance Mastiff’. How phallic can you get?!”

“So, now what? You know who I am. What happens next?”

She takes a sip of wine. “That depends on why the ridiculous name.”

“You know what happened to my family?”

“Yes. Tragic. We held several vigils for their souls.”

“It wasn’t tragic, it was intentional. I know who did it. I just have to be able to prove it.”

“Are you in danger?”

“Not yet. Probably. If I get the proof I need and the killers know about it? Most definitely. If I was using ‘Alex Thompson,’ I’d be dead by now.”

“Why would someone want to kill your mother and brother? Or you, for that matter? They were completely harmless.”

How do I explain what happened to Mrs. LaRouche and not be branded a raving loony? Even to believers in magic, the concept of a magic driven alternate universe would seem impossible and I have no proof.

“They were recruited by someone for an out of town job. It was dangerous and the people on the other side found out about it. They hired a security firm to take them out. Their people were driving the cars that night, the one that hit Mom and Terry and the getaway car.”

“How do you know all of this, Alex?”

“I’ve seen some of the emails, plus other company things like memos but I don’t have copies, nothing I can take to the police.”

“Would the police even bother to do anything?”

“They would if I could find some hard evidence. But I’m not leaving it up to them. They were my family and I’ll take care of it myself.”

“I can’t say that I approve of that, Alex. If that is your attitude, why worry about evidence at all?”

“Because I want to know exactly who did exactly what. Months ago I wouldn’t have worried about collateral damage but now I do. I’m not going to stomp all over a small innocent group to get a few bad guys.”

“Commendable. What happens when you catch your man?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll worry about that when I get the evidence.”

“And how to you plan to do that?”

“I have to get inside a building and access the intranet there. There are no open contacts between the system and the outside world. My usual hacking skills only kick in once I’ve gotten inside the building this time.”

“Why do you need some of my potions?”

“Because magic is driven by belief. The more people who believe, the stronger it is. Thanks to my ‘parlor tricks’ as you call them, I’ve managed to build a pocket of belief around my target. Unfortunately, that level drops way back at night; most of the believers go home. My magic muscles, so to speak, are much stronger than they were but there’s still not enough power for me to do much. However, if I can charge up a few potions when I’m at peak power levels, I can use them at night and get the job done.”

“I see. Do you intend to kill someone?”

“Maybe. I’m not gonna lie to you. If I find the person that ordered the hit, yeah, I may kill them … unless I can think of something worse. I don’t want to kill anyone just to break into the building though. Your potions could give me the edge I need.”

“How did you learn so much about magic? You were always a non-believer in the past.”

“I.. uuuhhh, visited a place where there was a much stronger belief in magic, learned some things from the people who lived there. I came back to New York, did some more research and started practicing.”

“Does that explain the improvements in your appearance?”

She doesn’t miss much.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Alex, I have been in the potion business most of my adult life, as was my mother before me and her mother before her. I’ve either met or dealt with every major player involved in the magic subculture in this country plus most of the skilled people in other countries. I can safely say that no one has ever succeeded in physically changing their appearance to the degree you have with just magic. And many have tried. Believe me on that.”

I lean forward, pulling my hair up and away from my forehead with the palm of my hand.

“Hey, you can check me for scars.”

“I don’t doubt your word, Alex. What I do question is where you found the power to do this. Or that someone else may have done it to you.”

It’d be easier, maybe smarter, to take the out she offered me and say someone else did it but then she’d ask me who, how, when and where could she find her. I could claim it was secret or I was sworn to silence but she doesn’t strike me as a person who would just accept that answer. Best fess up.

“Mrs. LaRouche, I am the seventh son of a seventh son.”

She pulls back away from me slightly, her eyes wide. “Oh my!”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Mastiff had promised a new finale for his act last week. Lawson’s P. A. Debbie had given me a heads up. I had to see it for myself. From the size of the crowd, it seems that most of the workers on this block felt the same way. Today, he performed most of his early stuff but was much better at it. Practice apparently does make perfect. He also performed that maddening trick with the rings.

When it came time to present that series of tricks with the twelve pack of Coke, a number of people had brought their own cartons to the show for Mastiff to choose from, making the tricks all that more impressive. After that last can was done spurting Coke everywhere, he opens another volunteer twelve pack, removing eight cans, lining them up on the table. He picks up two cans, one in each hand and turns to face the audience.

“I’ve been practicing this for weeks but this is the first time I’ve ever done it in public, so this may be a bit rough. Everyone may want to stand back just a bit.”

The audience moves back about ten feet and then Mastiff throws the two cans in his hand into the air while grabbing a third can off the table, which he also flips into the air and quickly begins to juggle the cans. He wasn’t great but he wasn’t bad. There’s a ripple of applause. He smiles.

“Thanks. Now, Debbie, if you would toss me another can.”

“ME?!” she squeals.

“Yes, just give it an easy underhanded toss. Aim for my chest.”

She nervously picks up a can, rolling it in her hand.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You’ve helped me before haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but …”

“Go ahead, don’t worry about it. Just aim for my chest.”

“Okay.”

She sighs loudly, makes a few practice swings, then gently lofts the can towards Mastiff. He deftly catches it, adding it to the three cans he is already keeping in the air. More applause as Debbie hurries back to her friends, giddy from the experience.

“Thanks Debbie. Your turn Janice.”

“WHAT?!”

Several people push another woman forward. I recognize her from the office and prior Mastiff performances. She’s a friend of Debbie’s. He has her do the same thing as Debbie, adding a fifth can to the group. The applause is louder this time.

A third woman, Shelly, also one of Debbie’s friends, is called out and can number six is quickly added to the flock circling in front of Mastiff.

I’m no expert, but I’ve never seen anyone juggle six items of any kind before but Mastiff juggles six better than he did three. It only takes a few minutes, but after calling out other regular patrons for help, he has eleven cans in the air, his hands moving incredibly fast to keep everything synchronized and airborne. He looks directly at me.

“There’s one left Ms. White. Think you can handle it?”

I step forward.

“I can if you can, Mr. Mastiff.”

He grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“Terrible pun. Let’s find out. Ready when you are.”

I snatch the can off the table and fire it at his head as hard as possible. The crowd gasps as the can bores in … but then suddenly slows, gently landing in his momentarily outstretched hand which instantly adds the can to the circling frenzy. The crowd goes crazy.

That was flat impossible. I played softball in high school. Third base. I could throw runners out at first routinely. It’s been a few years but I haven’t lost that much. He gives me a lopsided grin, almost a sneer.

“Well done, Ms. White.”

I slip back into the crowd, several people reaching out to shake my hand. Mastiff keeps up his frantic pace for another thirty seconds or so.

“Here’s where things get tricky. How do I stop, you may ask. Unfortunately, I haven’t figured that one out yet. I suggest everyone keep their heads up. What’s the juggling equivalent of ‘fore’?”

He steps away from the revolving, whirling cans, dropping his hands to his side but the cans don’t stop! They continue to circle in the air, just as before. The crowd gasps loudly, then they applaud wildly and shout.

One by one, each can separates from the group, floats over to the table and lands softly, forming a line. Mastiff bows deeply. The ovation is loud and long. I’m too stunned to join in.

Someone from the other side has crossed over to my world.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It took at least fifteen minutes for the crowd to return to their offices. I was constantly asked how I did that last trick. It was outside, there couldn’t be any wires. How’d I do it?
I answered the questions the same way as before. It was magic.

The level of belief had jumped after that last trick. Just standing on the sidewalk, I could feel the power growing even as the people dispersed. I take all that new belief and transfer it to the potions Mrs. LaRouche prepared for me. I had stashed them in my prop bag before starting my act and they are practically glowing with magic energy.

She didn’t give them to me, she had a price. She wanted my word that I would not kill anyone in vengeance for the death of my family. She was certain my mother would not approve of killing in her name. I can think of some people Terry wouldn’t have objected too but he was basically a pacifist. She wanted my promise, as the seventh son of a seventh son.

I wasn’t looking to kill in their names but I didn’t want to take it off the table either. I didn’t know what I might find if I managed to get the records I was looking for. If there were other deaths, if it was some kind of big plot of some kind, death might be the right thing. After seeing the hidden room in the stables, I stopped feeling bad about taking out Opulessa. Some crimes deserve the ultimate punishment.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I hurry to Lawson’s office immediately after Mastiff finishes his performance. Or her performance. If she’s from the other side, he would have been a she over there. Mastiff is likely a witch of some kind who managed to cross over somehow. It was my understanding that we had control over the technology that allowed inter-universe travel. If that’s true, then Mastiff was brought over by someone in this company. Lawson needs to know that right away.

I beat his P. A. back from lunch, which is hardly surprising. I knock at Lawson’s office door but there’s no answer. I slowly open it, sticking my head in. There’s no one there. I approach his desk and look for a calendar or schedule of some kind, hoping to find out where he is but there’s nothing. I hear a stage cough from behind me.

“Can I help you, Ms White?”

It’s Lawson, standing in the doorway to his private bathroom.

“I was hoping to find you in, Sir.”

“What is so urgent that you feel the need to break into my office?”

“I didn’t break in. The door was unlocked.”

“Do you view any unlocked door as an invitation to walk right in?”

“No, Sir. This could be important. I just witnessed the most recent performance of Lance Mastiff, the street magician who’s been performing across the street in the park these last few weeks.”

“I’m familiar with Mr. Mastiff. My secretary won’t shut up about him.”

Lawson sounded just slightly jealous. Wonder what his relationship with Debbie is?

“Yes. Well, I witnessed what can only be described as an act of magic.”

“Hardly surprising, he is a magician after all.”

“You don’t understand, Sir. Not a magic trick but an act of pure, real magic, just like I saw on the other side. No trick, no illusion, REAL magic.”

“I’m sure that he was impressive but certainly no one here could …”

“No, Sir. I have a great deal of experience with stage magic. This was the real thing. I’ve seen both and know the difference. If I’m right, then Mastiff could be a witch from the other side, brought here by someone inside the company.”

“That is some leap of logic, Ms. White.”

“It is the only thing that makes sense. No one here could have that kind of command of magic.”

“I thought our world had no magic left, that technology had killed it.”

“Little magic left. Not zero. A true witch might be able to gather it together in one place.”

“Is that how it works?”

“No one on our side really knows how it works. What we have is mostly speculation. The main point is that we have a subversive inside the company.”

He walks over to his desk and sits down. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Ms. White. Lance Mastiff is no threat to this company.”

“You can’t be certain of that, Sir. A witch from the other side wouldn’t just set up camp outside of this office at random. There is a reason that she is here right now!”

“Ms. White. I didn’t become CEO by ignoring potential problems. I had Mr. Mastiff checked out as soon as I heard about him. He is what he appears to be. A street magician of mixed skills.”

“But how can you be certain that he isn’t …”

“From the other side? I am certain because I had a couple of the people from the lab monitor one of his shows. They checked his baseline frequency. Lance Mastiff is a home grown boy, Ms. White. His baseline frequency is the same as yours and mine. He’s from our Earth. No doubt about it. That means no escapee from the other side, no witch, no plot against the company and no problem. Good day, Ms. White.”

“What about Alex Thompson? He’s from our world. He found his own way to the other world. He could have come back and changed his name.”

“Did you ever meet Alex Thompson?”

“Of course I did. My report of that meeting …”

“Not Alexia, Ms. White. Alex.”

“No, of course not.”

“We have pictures of Alex Thompson, not very good ones I’ll admit. The man was truly paranoid, but good enough. There are some vague similarities between the two men but facial recognition programs only give a 56 to 41 percent match between the two. They are no better than distant cousins, appearance wise. In addition, Alex Thompson was a man who liked to keep to the shadows, kept a very low profile. Hardly the kind of man you would expect to become a street performer with a growing fan base. Why would a person give up ultimate power to return to this world as a regular person? Why completely change his modus operandi? It is not him. Again, good day, Ms. White.”

He doesn’t understand. He hasn’t seen what I’ve seen. No matter what you think it is, you don’t know magic until you’ve actually experienced it. His ego is too big to accept that, particularly if I’m the one saying it.

Maybe there’s someone else in this company who’s willing to listen.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Thank you, Ms. White. I appreciate you coming to me with this information.”

When Lawson gave me the bum’s rush, I went straight to Stewart Hinkle, CFO and Lawson’s chief rival inside the company. He was one of the first few people from the company to spend any time on the other side, though it was only a couple of weeks. That’s when we learned that the men on the other side wouldn’t take a woman seriously, even though they had been a man almost all their life.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Hinkle. I know that you spent a little time over there. Mr. Lawson wasn’t too receptive.”

“I can imagine, though there isn’t much I can do about it. I’m just the Chief Financial Officer. Lawson is the Chief Executive Officer.”

“I understand, Sir, but I felt I didn’t have any other options. If he’s wrong, then we could have unleashed a powerful witch on this world, something no one over here is prepared to deal with. Someone in the upper management of this company needs to be aware of this possibility. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that we at least consider it. If he’s right, then no harm done. I can’t prove anything, at least not yet. Just keep an open mind, that’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s not an unreasonable request, Ms. White. The likelihood may be small but the potential harm is enormous. I’ll check into it.”

“That’s all I can ask, Mr. Hinkle. It’s the responsible thing to do.”

Plus, if it turns out that I’m right and Lawson’s wrong, then Hinkle could be the new CEO. If Lawson is right, it’ll be me who gets the boot, or worse. Hinkle can’t lose if he plays it right. No matter the morality of the situation, Hinkle would be a fool to ignore the chance to take over the Consortium.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

Midnight is a lousy time to attempt a break in. Four a.m. is much better. It’s getting closer to the end of the night shift, every one is tired and ready to quit for the night. They’re more likely to blow off that last security sweep, or at least be less thorough. It limits the amount of time I’ve got to do my job but if I can’t get finished before the next shift arrives, I deserve what I get.

I should be okay if I can get my foot in the door.

As I approach the building, I can see a few lights on in the upper floors. They could be workers or they could be the cleaning crew. I can deal with either one but I’d like to avoid being seen at all, except for the two guards in the lobby.

There’s a lot of glass on the first floor, not so much on the rest of the floors and what’s there is mostly decorative, at least until you reach the top floor. Perks of upper management. The ground floor, however, is more glass than anything else. Thick and bullet-proof but still glass. I can see the two guards as I walk across the street straight towards the front doors and they can see me but they don’t move from behind the big, sprawling marble desk in the darkened lobby. Not even when I reach the main door and politely knock on the glass with the knuckles of my right hand. I reach over to the left and press the intercom button by the door frame, then lean in closer to the microphone built into the panel.

“Excuse me. I really need to go to the can. Would you please let me in? It won’t take long, just a minute or two. I gotta go bad!”

They look at each other but neither budges. I rap on the glass again but this time use the large ring on the middle finger of my right hand, extending the finger ever so slightly. The sound of the ring striking the glass is loud and sharp. There’s no chance of me breaking the glass but the sound is annoying. I tap several times before returning to the intercom.

“Come on Dudes! Have a heart! There’s no place open around here for blocks! I wouldn’t want to mess up these nice clean steps in front of your nice clean building.”

That gets the older of the two guards moving. Both are wearing the traditional blue and gray rent-a-cop outfit with some yellow piping on the front of the shirt, a fabric shield with the company’s name and logo sewn on the right shoulder and some kind of shiny metal badge on the left front shirt pocket. Neither guard is wearing a hat. The older guy is wearing a failing comb-over; the other has longish blonde hair.

Baldy steps up to the door and presses the intercom button on his side.

“Get the hell out of here you drunk son of a bitch! I don’t care where you go just as long as it’s away from here. And, if you piss or crap on my steps, I’m coming out there to rub your face in it, you hear?”

I lean over, press the button and respond. “I’m not drunk. I was just performing down the street and the cops broke it up. Someone in there must know me. I’ve been performing over in the park across from here for weeks.”

“Who gives a shit?! Move on before I come out there and bust you up.”

I start to answer him but his co-worker, Blondie, says something which Baldy finds amusing.

“A magician, huh? I’ve seen all your piddly ass tricks before. You can’t fool me.”

“And if I could? Is that worth the price of admission to your facilities?”

“My what?”

“Your bathroom. Your toilet, the can, Man.”

Blondie says something again, Baldy turning to listen but he takes his finger off the intercom button so I can’t hear anything. He turns back towards me, an evil grin on his face.

“Okay, Houdini. Entertain me. If I’m impressed, I’ll let you in.”

He’s got no intention of letting me in but that’s fine, just as long as he plays along. “Good, take out your wallet and remove the largest bill you have.”

“Like hell I will.”

“I’m out here and you’re in there. What can I possibly do to you?”

Blondie encourages him so he reluctantly remove his wallet from his back pocket, pulls out a bill and holds it up for me to see. It’s one of those new $100 Dollar bills, with all the security features. Great.

“Alright. Now, hand it to your friend and have him write down the serial number.”

Blondie searches for a piece of paper, finds it, takes the bill and slowly copies the serial number, eventually handing the bill back to Baldy. I push the intercom button again.

“Very good! Finally, crumple up the bill into a ball, place it in the palm of your left hand and close your hand, squeezing tightly. Like this.”

I hold my left hand up, displaying my empty palm. I then slowly close my hand making a fist and grip hard. Baldy follows my lead. I lean down closer to the microphone.

“Are you ready to be amazed, Sir?”

He nods his head.

“Open your hand.”

He does, revealing an empty palm. Both guards are astonished. Baldy immediately begins searching the floor, thinking he may have dropped it.

“Is this what you are looking for, Sir?”

Both of them stare at me as I slowly open my hand, remove and straighten out the crumpled $100 bill that was resting in my palm. I smile, bow and start to walk away from the door. Baldy can’t move fast enough, fumbling for his keys as he scrambles towards the door, one hand deep in his pants pocket. I can see him screaming at me but can’t hear him clearly through the thick glass. He finally manages to extract the key ring from his pocket and he desperately pokes a key at the lock before successfully hitting the target, shouting all the time as he struggles to unlock the door. There’s a loud thunk and the door flies open.

“… God damn mother fucking thief! You give me back my money before I …”

He’s almost on top of me when I reach out, grab his right wrist and slap the bill into his hand, shaking his hand firmly with the bill pressed between our palms.

“But of course, Sir. It is merely a simple magic trick. By all means. Now, about the use of your toilet.”

He jerks his hand away from mine, checks to make sure the $100 is in his hand, clutches it tightly and stomps back to the door.

“Fuck off,” he snarls, slamming the door shut, locking it behind him. I stroll back to the door and press the intercom button.

“The trick is not complete yet, Sir. Please have your friend confirm that it, is in fact, your original bill.”

He stops and turns, anger clear on his face. He starts to say something but doesn’t, the anger being replaced by confusion. He looks down at the hand grasping the bill then slowly walks back to the desk and hands it to Blondie. There’s a brief conversation before Blondie finally takes the bill, holding it in his right hand as he checks it against the serial number he had written down before. I return to the button.

“Is it the original $100 bill, Sir?”

He looks up at me and nods.

“Well done, both of you! Congratulations all around are in order! Shake hands, Sirs!”

They both look at their respective right hands, then at each other and ultimately shake hands, continuing to do so until I interrupt them with a knock on the glass and the intercom.

“I believe we had an agreement about you letting me in to use the bathroom, gentlemen.”

Baldy deliberately walks to the door as if in a trance, quickly unlocking and opening the door, holding it for me.

“Thank you very much. So kind of you.” I walk in but he continues to hold the door open. “I’d close and lock that if I were you.” He does exactly that then waits for my next order. “I may be awhile. Certain digestive issues, no need to go into detail. You two should go about your regular duties but don’t bother to report any alarms you might hear. I’ll be back when I’m finished. Understood?”

They both nod again, returning to the desk and resuming what they were doing before I first knocked on the door, completely ignoring my presence in the lobby. Reaching into my pocket, I remove the glass vial with the paper label attached. On the label is one word.

Obedience.

There is less than a third of Ms. LaRouche’s potion left but I wanted to be certain the guards got a full dose when they handled that $100 bill so I saturated it. My magic battery is pretty low but I shouldn’t need magic from this point on. Now, I’m back to being a hacker.

I quickly step to the elevator, push the up button, jumping in the first car to show up. I head for the top floor, ready to react should the elevator make an intermediate stop. Thankfully, it doesn’t.

The door opens but I do nothing right away. I hide off to the side and wait for the door to begin closing before I reach out and stop it, look out the door and, seeing no activity; I step out, letting the door close behind me.

The room is expansive and open. The outside lights stream in through the windows, dimly lighting the surrounding space. There’s a central waiting area with a receptionist’s desk, what appears to be a conference room to one side and two large offices on the other side, each with their own desks outside for their respective gatekeepers. I quietly approach the nearest office. The engraved plaque on the large double doors reads “Stewart T. Hinkle, Chief Financial Officer”.

Maybe some other time.

The second set of doors is the one I’m looking for. “Mr. Terence P. Lawson, Esq. C. E. O.” I pull my coat open to reveal an array of lock picks sitting in a row of pockets sewn onto the lining of the left side of the coat. Crossing the waiting room, I pass the desk of Lawson’s Personal Assistant, the name plate reading “Debbie Jennings”.

Debbie’s been one of my best fans. She’s a true believer. Makes a very good volunteer from the audience. Shy enough to keep the others from thinking she’s a shill but confident enough to do the job right. If everyone believed in magic as she does, I could take over this world.

I remove two picks from the collection stashed in my coat and drop to one knee so that I can easily reach to lock in the door knob. This part is my weakest skill. I’ve done it before a few times but it takes way too long. A pro could do in 30 seconds what takes me 15 minutes. Can’t be helped. I might be able to speed the job up by using magic but I’m better off saving something for emergencies. Either way, if it takes me too long, I can always whip out the magic.

Adjusting my position a little bit so I’m comfortable, I reach for the door knob on the right, tools in hand. Just as I touch it, the knob begins to turn. SHIT! Someone’s here! I manage to get up and return the picks to their hiding place before the door opens.

It’s Debbie Jennings, her arms loaded with files, her body silhouetted by the light from Lawson’s office.

“Lance! My GOD! What are you doing here?!”

So much for the reserve.

“I’m here to see you. Actually, I didn’t expect you to be here. I was just going to leave you a gift.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. I have it right here.”

I slide over to her desk, blocking Debbie’s view with my body, bend down and pick up a dozen roses that hadn’t been there seconds ago, sprinkling the last of Ms. LaRouche’s potion over them as I turn around.

“LANCE! They’re beautiful!”

I bow slightly and present them to her. “As are you, Debbie.”

She might be blushing, hard to tell in this dim light. She reaches out with both hands, taking the flowers, bringing them close to her face and inhaling deeply.

“I adore the smell of roses!”

She takes another deep breath with her face buried in the flowers, getting another dose of Mrs. LaRouche’s Obedience potion. I hope there’s enough left. Debbie lifts her face from the embrace of the roses.

“Lance, how did you get in here?”

I strike a stage pose, standing as tall as possible, my arms extended, lifting slightly upward.

“I am a MAGICIAN! No walls can stop me! No container hold me! No locks restrain me! No …” I drop my arms and relax my stance. “The guards let me in. What are you doing here? I expected an empty office. I wanted the flowers to be a magical surprise for you in the morning.”

She smiles at me, giggling softly. “They’re still a magical surprise and this way, I can thank you personally.”

She steps towards me, still holding the roses. I take her hands gently by the wrists and pull her closer, pressing the bouquet nearer to her face.

“Surely you aren’t still working, are you? How could your boss ask a lovely woman like you to be out at this ungodly hour?”

She beams at me but snorts derisively. “Larson doesn’t care how late I have to stay. He walked out at 4:45 today and dropped a pot load of work on my desk, telling me he needed it all ready for him in the morning. The morning!”

I sympathetically shake my head. “A cad! Truly a cad. I won’t delay you any longer.”

“OH No! I’m almost done! I just need to sign off, lock up and I’m free as a bird.”

By Zaphod’s great staff! I have to pause a moment to keep from sounding too interested. It’s all I can do to keep from laughing manically.

“Sign off? What is that?”

She chuckles lightly but with just a hint of sleepiness. “Come on, you’re joking, right?”

“No, not at all, is that one of those computer things? I really don’t know much about computers. Perhaps you could show me.”

She grins at me, her head tilting slightly to the left. “I shouldn’t.”

“Oohh let’s be naughty, just this once.”

She starts to say something but stops, her mouth agape, her eyelids half open, breathing deeply. I carefully push the roses closer to her face.

“Just a little naughty, just this once,” I whisper in her ear.

She giggles again. “Oookaayy. Just this time.”

I lightly pull her back into Lawson’s office, shutting the door once we are both inside. Leading her to a large leather couch, I smoothly set her down, leaving the flowers nestled against her breasts where she can still inhale the fading remains of the potion. Once she’s settled, I hurry over to the desk. Miraculously, it is still signed on to the intranet, the Consortium’s strictly internal network and it’s in Lawson’s name! I quickly remove a portable hard drive from my coat pocket and search for a USB port.

“Laanncce,” Debbie whines, “I thought you wanted to do something naughty.”

“Oh I do, Debbie. Very naughty. But how about this.” I quickly return to the couch, gently pull the flowers from her grasp and drop them behind the couch. They disappear before hitting the ground. I take her head between my hands, cradling her chin in the palms, my thumbs running up her jaw line. I bend down so that we are looking into each other’s eyes. “Why don’t you take a little nap …” She starts to pout. “… and while you’re napping, you have the sexiest dream you’ve ever had in your life.” The pout instantly turns into a wicked smile.

“What kind of sexy dream, Laanncce?”

“Whatever you want Debbie. Wherever, whoever, however you want. Your deepest, most forbidden desire. Let it all out.”

“Right here, in my boss’s office?”

“That’s the naughty part.”

“Ohh yeah! Okay, I’ll do it!”

I wink at her. “What a sexy vixen you are, Debbie. Here, let’s get you comfortable.”

I help her lay down on the couch. Whipping off my coat, I roll it up in a ball and carefully put it under her head like a pillow. Debbie lazily runs her hand over the seat back of the couch.

“I love leather, Lance. I really love leather. The feel, the smell. Love it. Don’t you love it?”

“Who doesn’t? It’s time for your nap now Debbie.”

“What will you do while I’m asleep?”

“I’ll just be waiting for you to wake up.”

“That sounds boring.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find something to keep me busy.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

My last command was for Debbie to forget all about what happened this morning, that she was to wake up feeling refreshed, relaxed, rested and ready for the new day. The sun was just beginning to rise as I exited her apartment building and headed home. I skirted Central Park on my way back to Mrs. LaRouche’s. I’m not certain if that last command would take. Debbie hadn’t gotten a full dose of the potion and it my have begun to wear off by the time I got her home. With luck, she’ll mostly just remember her dream.

I sure as hell won’t forget it.

It took me some time to work out the structure of the network and find where the information I sought was being stored. It turns out that it was also encrypted so I had to wake Debbie to get the encryption key.

She was a little pissed at that.

I could have just taken the encrypted data and try to break the key later but decided to do it all while in Lawson’s office even though that would take more time than I was comfortable with. This way guaranteed success and that was more important to me than anything else.

While I waited for everything I wanted to decrypt, I had an opportunity to eavesdrop on Debbie’s dream. She started with just moans and groans, slowly writhing on the couch, her hands moving around her body, then she’d fall silent for a few minutes and then become more vocal and active again. Eventually, she worked her panties down around her ankles and both her blouse and bra open. She called out my name several times while vigorously rubbing her pussy and kneading her breasts but she also mentioned at least two other men and both her work friends, Janice and Shelly. The name “Rex” came up a few times too after she had rolled onto her stomach and pushed her ass into the air. I didn’t want to speculate about who or what Rex is.

All and all, a memorable show.

It took a little while to get her dressed and presentable before helping her out of the building past the unseeing eyes of the two guards and into a cab for the short ride to her apartment.

As I walk by Central Park, I share the sidewalk with the early morning joggers who are headed into the Park to use the walking and running paths. I stop for a moment, feeling the pull of my favorite spot near the playing fields but shake it off. It’s the longer route and I’ve got work to do, including making sure that I put on a good show today outside of the Consortium building. I need to carry on as before, no change in the routine until I’m ready to make my move.

I keep walking until I reach Mrs. LaRouche’s store. She won’t open for another couple of hours but she’s an early riser and I’d prefer to get a few hours of sleep before my lunchtime show instead of reviewing my morning’s adventures. I manage to reach my apartment without attracting her attention. As soon as I open the door to my apartment, I can smell bacon cooking.

“Good morning, Lance. How do you like your eggs?”

She’s standing in my kitchen, frying pan on the stove, a carton of eggs open on the counter next to her

“How did you get in here, Mrs. LaRouche?”

“Landlord, remember?”

“Ahh yes. Do you visit often when I’m not here?”

“This is my first time. I need to know if you kept your word.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I’m concerned about you. The power that you’re dealing with is well beyond levels I’m familiar with.”

“Don’t worry. I can handle it, Mrs. LaRouche.”

“I’d like to believe you, Lance but we’re talking about power levels very few have ever experienced.”

Could I tell her stories. “I’ll have those eggs sunny side up if you don’t mind,” I say as I shut the door behind me.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Sure I did. Sunny side up.”

“Fine. You didn’t answer the important question. Did you keep your word?”

I wave my hand. The cabinet doors swing open as two plates float out and settle onto the table. The drawer slides out and two sets of forks, spoons and knives rise up and join the plates, quickly followed by napkins and glasses to complete the setting. Mrs. LaRouche is impressed.

“Yes. I kept my word. No one was even hurt.”

“Did you get what you needed?”

The coffee pot starts up but that’s only because I left it on a timer. Not everything requires magic.

“I don’t know, there wasn’t time to check everything. I copied all emails and memos for the last five years. That should be enough to figure out if anyone had a hand in Terry and Mom’s deaths. It’ll take me awhile to go through them all.”

“Can I help?”

“Thanks, but I’d rather do it myself. That way, I’m the only one breaking the law.”

She chuckles. “My past isn’t exactly squeaky clean.”

“Better not add to it then.”

She opens the fridge, takes out a bottle of orange juice and fills both glasses.

“I understand that you want to do this alone but I am willing to help. Your mother was my friend too.”

“If the cops get us both, who’s left to bail us out?”

She pauses, frying pan in her hand, poised to slide the eggs onto the plate. “Who says I’m bailing you out?”

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

I should have tried to get more sleep last night.

The act isn’t as sharp as it could be, as it should be. I managed to hit the big tricks, particularly the last one. I just couldn’t resist starting on the stolen data and stayed up too late working on it. I didn’t find anything useful.

As I was packing up, Debbie approached me. I hadn’t seen her during the performance but she could have been standing towards the back. She seemed reluctant to speak so I took the initiative.

“I missed you today. You’re my best ‘volunteer lovely assistant’. People are starting to suspect something is up between us.”

She smiled but chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “About that. Last night … I had this … weird dream. At least I think it was a dream.”

“Were you and I at your office?”

“YES!” she gasps.

“Did I give you a dozen roses?”

“YES!! How do you know that?!”

“I had the same dream.”

“You did? How is that possible?”

I shrug. “Sometimes, when there’s a lot of magic in the air, two people can get psychically linked. They can share dreams, even thoughts. What am I thinking right now?”

“You’re kidding?!”

“No. Not at all. I doesn’t happen very often and not for long. The dreams seem very real.”

“It certainly felt real. I could smell the roses.”

“That sounds right. What am I thinking right now?”

“I can’t read your mind. That’s crazy … isn’t it?”

“You never know until you try. Go ahead. Concentrate.”

Debbie closes her eyes, squinting and wrinkling her forehead. She holds that pose for several seconds. “Yooouuurr … hungry! You can’t wait to get lunch!”

I clap my hands together. “Exactly right! Very good!” I’d have agreed with practically anything she said.

“Ohmygod! I did it! That is sooo cool! How long will this last?”

I frown and shake my head. “Not much longer, I’m afraid. It’ll probably fade in an hour or so. As I said, it’s kinda rare. When I do that big finale, there’s a lot of residual magic floating around. It’s gotta go somewhere.”

She’s clearly disappointed. “Isn’t there anything we can do to make it last?”

“Afraid not. It’s just one of those unpredictable side effects. I did enjoy sharing that dream with you.”

She smiles broadly. “Me too, Lance. Maybe it’ll happen again.”

I return her smile. “Perhaps. Who knows? Magic is so serendipitous. I’ll see you later.”

She waives as she turns to head back to work. “Bye, Lance.”

I waive back, continuing to do so until she looks away. That should buy me enough time to search the data base for the proof I need. If she doesn’t ask any questions, no one else will.

* * * *** * * * *** * * * ***

It took several days to get anyone from the Winthrop Group to even return my calls. If there was any proof required to show how toxic the name “Donna White” is, that was it.

“What do you want of us, Ms. White?”

“I need to speak with someone about investigating a possible incursion from …excuse me, what’s your clearance?”

“Level 5, Ms. White.”

Level 5. Impressive. That almost guarantees that the person I’m speaking with spent some time over there.

“Who am I speaking with?”

“Cynthia Ridgeway, Ms. White. You may remember me as Captain Sydney Ridgeway, Don.”

“Captain! How are you?”

“Fine, but I’m no longer a Captain, Ms. White. Those ranks pretty much disappear when you get back home.”

“Does that bother you?”

“A little. We knew the job was temporary when we all signed on but it was a wild ride while it lasted.”

“And the way it ended?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Do you keep in touch with the rest of your squad?”

“Not Really. There are only a few of us left here at the main office in New York. The rest have been assigned to various hush hush operations around the world.”

Should I tell her that her comrades are likely dead? That the same fate could await her also? Anyone deemed a security risk was to be eliminated after they returned to this world. That was the contract between The Consortium and The Winthrop Group. That Ridgeway was still around may mean she was deemed reliable.

“What are you currently doing, Cynthia? Or is that a question you can’t answer?”

“No, not a problem. I’m waiting for a new assignment. I could be headed to Afghanistan in a couple of weeks.”

Oooohhh, not good. “I have something I’d like you to look into for me. In an unofficial capacity.”

“I don’t know about that, Ms. White. I don’t want to get into any kind of trouble here at work.”

It probably can’t get any worse for her. “Nothing serious, Cynthia. I just need your opinion about a certain street performer.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *
Still nothing.

I’m almost halfway through the data and haven’t found any solid proof of a specific order to kill my family. There’s been a hint now and then and a couple of emails referring to their deaths. That alone is suspicious. Why would a big corporation care about the deaths of a couple of little people? I’ll need more than that.

One thing is clear though, the loss of the resources from the other world has put a serious crimp in their cash flow. There have been a lot of discussions about accounting tricks to hide their problems from the market and shareholders. Many of the upper management’s jobs are on the line and you can practically smell the desperation in a lot of the memos and emails.

There’s a certain satisfaction in that.

Unfortunately, I’ve got to load up and go perform my act.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The crowd is as large as any I’ve seen here before, at least 400 people. Word has clearly spread about Mr. Mastiff’s skills. One of the smaller local television stations has dispatched a camera crew to catch the action. We were late to arrive and are stuck in the back.

“Why are we here, Ms. White?”

I had never met Cynthia Ridgeway before, at least not the female version. She’s younger than I expected but smart. Her dossier said that she has degrees in both Mechanical and Electrical Engineering plus extensive intelligence training while in the Army. She’s tall, almost 5’ 11”, fit and attractive, with short, auburn hair and brown eyes. It’s a shame that The Winthrop Group believes that she’s expendable.

“I suspect, Ms. Ridgeway, that the magician performing today is not what he claims to be. My superiors aren’t interested in finding out the truth. There was a cursory investigation that provided cover for them to ignore the potential problem. I wanted you to see and meet him. You had a great deal of contact with Opulessa so it’s my hope that you can recognize a witch when you see one, even if she’s currently a man.”

She jerks her right thumb in the direction of Mastiff.

“You think that guy is a chick?”

“Possibly. Would anyone have suspected you were a ‘chick’ when you were on the other world?”

“I see your point. How the hell would he-she have gotten over here? I was the last man across before you set the self-destruct on the Portal Generator on that side and caught the last ride home.”

“Someone on this side could have reopened that Portal. They’ve sent teams to other universes, searching for another source of raw materials, but no luck so far. If the Generator is active, it’s a small step to return to that universe.”

“Any proof of that?”

“None at all,” I sigh. “Besides, one thing the original investigation supposedly did establish was that Lance Mastiff is from our universe, not theirs.”

“Lance Mastiff? Is that really his name?”

“It would seem so. There are birth records, Social Security records, school records, medical records and so on. I’m assuming they hired your company to do the investigation. I haven’t seen the actual report.”

“What about Alex Thompson?”

“I thought of that but Mastiff doesn’t look like Thompson, at least not any more like him than a distant relative, which is barely more than a random man with the same height and hair color.”

“What about DNA?”

“We don’t have any sample of Thompson’s DNA to compare Mastiff’s with.”

“But you do have samples of his mother and brother, don’t you?”

Very good, Ridgeway! “We don’t but we can get them! Either from the police or an exhumation.”

“No judge is going to order an exhumation.”

“Who says we’ll ask?”

“You’ve still got the problem about how Thompson could have gotten back. No Portal.”

“He could get back the same way he got over there. One of the original small portable Generators went missing over there and was never accounted for. It was presumed destroyed. That presumption could be wrong.”

Mastiff begins his show so we watch, seeing what we can from where we are standing. Ridgeway is astonished at the appropriate moments, when Mastiff performs a true magical trick. He allows the cameraman to roam wherever he wants, to see everything from whatever angle he desires. No magician I know would ever take that risk. Limiting what the audience sees is a major part of most illusions but Mastiff doesn’t seem to care. Mastiff has the Coke cans orbit the cameraman during the juggling trick before returning to the table. He actually fell down trying to record the action. The crowd loved it. So did Ridgeway.

“So, what do you think?” I ask.

“What do I THINK? That HAD to be magic! There is no way to do half of the stuff he did without magic!”

“Actually, any competent magician could perform almost two thirds of those tricks, however, the last third … I’m forced to agree with you. Which raises some troubling issues.”

“No Shit!”

“Exactly. Shall we meet Mr. Mastiff?”

“Are you sure you want to do that? If he’s the real deal, I wouldn’t want him paying any attention to me. Trust me. I know!”

“I’m aware of your history with Opulessa.”

“You don’t know the half of it. If Thompson hadn’t taken her out, the rest of us would have.”

If Thompson had not succeeded, you and your men wouldn’t have had any recollection of what Opulessa had done to you. You’d still be part of her sick circus. No need to point that out right now.

“Unfortunately, it’s that history that makes you a valuable asset right now. Mastiff and I have a bit of an adversarial relationship already. I’m still here so that means either he can’t hurt me or doesn’t care to.”

“Or that you haven’t pissed him off enough yet.”

“Another possibility, I agree, but I saw what Opulessa could do and what Alexia was capable of. Mastiff isn’t in their leagues.”

“Yet. Opulessa’s power wasn’t at a steady state. It went up and down. Not a lot but she had good days and bad days.”

I didn’t know that. “Are you saying you don’t want to meet Mastiff?”

“I’ll do it. I just want to be certain you’ve considered the possible harm. I don’t want real magic to get a foothold in my world, it’s too damn dangerous. If we need to stop Mastiff, better now than later because we may not get a chance later.”

I smile. “We think a lot alike, Cynthia.”

“Thanks, Ms. White.”

“Call me Donna, Captain.”

She returns my smile and nods her head. We start to work our way forward through the thinning crowd. Most of the audience needs to return to work. I’ve always suspected Mastiff only performs at lunch time because he doesn’t want people hanging around after the show is done.

He has his donation bucket sitting next to his front table. It’s a five gallon bucket and almost two thirds full of bills and change with people still tossing money in. If he does that 5 times a week, 52 weeks a year, he could be making almost as much as I do! We wait for the television reporter to finish her piece before talking to Mastiff.

And wait.

And wait.

The bitch is dragging this out on purpose. She’s got her story but she wants more. It doesn’t take a genius to see what that more is. Mastiff notices us standing in the background.

“Ms. White! I didn’t see you at today’s performance.”

Ridgeway and I step forward, blocking the reporter.

“We were there, Mr. Mastiff. Impressive, as usual. This is Captain Ridgeway.”

“CAPTAIN Ridgeway? Not a member of New York’s finest I hope. I always try to keep good relations with the local constabulary.”

She offers him her hand. “I’m not a cop. It’s a military rank.”

He takes her hand, shaking it firmly. They pause after a few seconds but neither lets go. They just stare intently at each other for a few seconds before the reporter interrupts.

“I think we have all I need, Lance, though I’d like to see you later tonight, just to make sure there’s no follow up.”

Mastiff releases Ridgeway’s hand, directing his attention to the attractive reporter. “I’m afraid tonight isn’t possible Carol. I need all the rest I can get to recharge my magic batteries. I can be available this Sunday.”

“I anchor the weekend news broadcasts so Sunday won’t work.”

“A shame. You have my number. Feel free to call me, I’m certain we can work something out.” He finishes off with a devilish smile that would weaken the strongest woman’s knees. I can feel it myself and he isn’t even aiming at me. Carol just beams at him for a moment before recovering and walking away, the cameraman trailing behind. Mastiff turns back towards me.

“Lovely woman. Has quite an interest in magic.”

“I’m sure she does,” I reply dryly.

“What can I do for you and the brave Captain, Ms. White?”

“Nothing you haven’t done before. Captain Ridgeway is in town between assignments so I thought she might enjoy your show.”

“And did you, Captain?”

“Did I what?” asks Ridgeway.

“Did you enjoy my show?”

“Oh my yes! Very enjoyable! It makes a person wonder how you could possibly do all those tricks. Some seem quite impossible.”

“For some perhaps. Magic makes all things possible.”

“Oh come on! It’s just us girls here. You can’t really believe in magic,” she says.

“I do, Captain, as do many others. Like Ms. White here. And you. If you’ll excuse me, the Park Police only give me a few minutes to clean up, pack up and be on my way. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“Can we help?” I ask.

“No no. Don’t trouble yourselves. I’m almost done as it is. Check out the local evening news. With luck, it’ll be a slow news day and they can squeeze me in. It’ll be a boost for my career.”

He quickly packs the loose equipment into a large duffle bag with shoulder straps, folds up his tables, slings the bag over his shoulder, grabs the tables by their handles and hurries off into Central Park after a brief wave goodbye, his ponytail bouncing with each step.

“What do you think, Captain.”

“That was magic. No doubt about it.”

“And Mastiff?”

“He sure as hell felt like a witch but he was also a man. I can’t explain it. Should we follow him?”

“No need. We know where he lives. I just wish we had some other leads to pursue.”

“What about the DNA tests?”

“I can get that started but it’ll be up to the techs and my requests aren’t exactly a high priority. What kind of pull do you have at the Winthrop Group?”

“Zilch. On a good day.”

“So, we’re stuck.”

Ridgeway pulls me aside. “Maybe not. A couple of weeks ago, someone from internal security came around asking questions. Seems that one of our guns turned up in a meth lab bust. ATF knew that it was originally one of ours; it was registered when the company bought them straight from the manufacturer. Internal security wanted to make sure someone wasn’t running their own black market with Winthrop Group guns. The company does that all the time, they just don’t want unauthorized competition from inside their own company.”

“What does this have to do with Mastiff?”

“Maybe nothing, maybe something. I knew what gun they were talking about. It was Colonel Willis’ personal M4A1. He took it to a gunsmith over here and had it fine tuned and modified. It was match rated. That was one cherry piece of iron. And it never made it back to this world when we evacuated.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I went looking for it. The Colonel was dead. He had no use for it. Seemed a waste for it to fall in the wrong hands.”

“The wrong hands being anyone’s other than yours.”

Ridgeway grinned. “Something like that. I double checked every gun that came home. I can guarantee you that one did not make the trip.”

“Could someone else have taken it?”

“It’s possible. I couldn’t be open about what I was really doing so someone else could have gotten to it before I did but I don’t think that’s what happened. That gun stayed over there until someone brought it over here and sold it.”

“Are you serious, Captain?”

“How else can you explain that a gun that almost certainly did not leave the other side at evacuation ended up in a meth bust in Loogootee, Indiana.”

“Wait. Loogootee is the nearest town to the Portal Generator on this side, right?”

“It is. Wouldn’t it be interesting to talk to the man who had that gun? Show him a few pictures maybe?”

“It would indeed, Captain. I think I can rustle up a flight to the nearest airport. I’ve still got my expense account. Care to join me?”

“Sure, I’d love to go. Beats the hell out of sitting around HQ doing nothing but I don’t know if they’ll let me.”

“I’ll take care of that. You go pack a bag and we’re off to Loogootee within the hour.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Why the heck did White bring Ridgeway to today’s show? What did she hope to accomplish? That Ridgeway would somehow recognize me as Alexia? Seems to be a longshot on her part. Maybe she’s running out of gambits. I hope she’s running out of time. The sooner I finish reviewing the data from the Consortium, the sooner I can finish this.

I hustle through Central Park but as I get near the playing fields, I stop, feeling an urge to go over there to take a break. Just sit down, watch the kids play and forget all about this. I give it about twenty seconds of serious consideration before shaking the feeling and heading back to my apartment, the feeling fading the further away from the fields I get. It wasn’t a bad idea, it’s just not the time for goofing off. I’ll take a break when I find what I need in those memos and emails.

But maybe I’ve been working too hard. Since getting the data from The Consortium, I’ve done nothing but eat, sleep, perform my act and search the data. It’s been a three day grind and the two weeks before that were completely wrapped up in preparation for the break in. What’s twenty or thirty minutes gonna cost me? It’s a nice day in late August. The home schooled kids will be playing some kind of game. I need to see something that reminds me of … home.

There. I said it.

Home.

It’s not New York anymore. The last week or so, I’ve felt the pull of the other world. The wide open spaces, living close to nature. The slower, more meaningful life I lead over there. My family that I left over there. It all makes life here more intolerable every day.

Once this is done, I am getting the hell out of town but right now, I’m taking twenty minutes to enjoy myself!

I reverse course, instantly feeling better, and hurry back the way I came until reaching the intersection with the path that leads to the athletic fields. I turn to the left and it’s only a minute or so until I hear the sound of children playing, quickly followed by the sight of boys and girls charging up and down a deep green playing field in pursuit of a soccer ball.

Almost all of the parents are gathered to one side, talking among themselves. I recognize a number of them from prior visits, though there are some new people. It’s mostly mothers and a few fathers, standing or sitting in groups of three or four, however there is one woman standing apart from the rest, someone I haven’t seen before.

If you looked up “statuesque” in the dictionary, there would be a picture of her right next to the definition. She was tall, taller than me. Blonde and built, but more like an athlete. She had a great figure but it was more than that. She just exuded strength, like an Amazon. You could see why she was standing by herself, she probably intimidated everyone else, man or woman. She wasn’t doing anything threatening, just smiling and watching the kids play, but you could tell she wasn’t to be messed with.

She definitely was not my usual type. I’d always preferred women who were shorter than me and couldn’t likely beat me up but there was something about her that kept drawing my attention, even when I tried to ignore her and concentrate on the game.

It was fairly disorganized, kids just playing. Different ages, boys and girls, some knew what they were doing, some just learning and some had no idea what the game was about. There was this big blonde boy, running all over the place, clearly didn’t know shit about soccer but was full of energy and enthusiasm, smiling and laughing the entire time. Kids would drop in and out of the game, running over to their parents and then back onto the field, rejoining their friends.

The sun was bright and the temperature mild. An all around glorious day. The twenty minutes I was going to stay passed in the blink of an eye so I stayed longer, my attention always drifting back to the Amazon.

I’d never approached any of the other mothers before, didn’t want to seem like I was hitting on them. I’d gotten a number of looks from some of them whenever I showed up but none ever approached me, though, from the conversations I saw, occasionally several of them would encourage one or two to come over to meet me. Never happened though.

It appeared that the game was starting to break up. Some of the kids and parents were beginning to leave. I was suddenly struck with the fear that I may never see the Amazon again. All the time I’d watched her, she never looked my way. She just stood there, Hair in a ponytail dropping down her back, dressed in slacks, light sweater and trainers, the personification of cool elegance.

I need to meet her, to talk with her. There’s just something compelling about her. I can’t put my finger on it. I just know that if I don’t do this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

Leaving all my stuff leaning against a tree, I wander in her direction. I don’t want to charge right up and start talking to her. I want to be smooth, suave, cool about it. It takes me a few agonizing minutes to get close enough to attempt to strike up a conversation.

“Excuse me,” I say a little bit too loudly.

She’s startled but not afraid. “What did you say?” she asks.

“I-I just wanted to say hello. Haven’t seen you here before.”

She looks me up and down with one arched eyebrow.

“Do you have a child out there?” She points at the field.

“No. I just like to come out here and watch the kids play.”

That doesn’t sound creepy at all.

“Really?” she sternly replies.

“I-I didn’t mean it that way! I just like to come out here because it reminds me of a different place. A place I used to live.”

Her appearance softens a bit. “Where did you use to live?”

“You wouldn’t know the place. It’s far away from here.”

“I might know. I am just a visitor to this city.”

That explains why I haven’t seen her before.

“How interesting! How long have you been in town?”

“Only two weeks. My son and I have spent a lot of time here in this park.”

“Here on business or pleasure?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Are you in New York because of work or on vacation?”

“Neither. We are looking for someone.”

“Who’s that?”

“A relative.”

“Any luck?”

“Not so far,” she sighs.

Maybe I could lend a hand, do a little computer research, help the lady? No, I’ve already got a job to do and I better get to it now. Enough play time!

“Well, good luck with your search. I need to get back to …”

“You never told me your name,” she interrupts. “My name is Johanna.” She holds out her hand.

“Johanna. Unusual name.” I shake her hand. “I’m Lance Mastiff… uuhhh, Mastiff the Magnificent.”

“The magnificent what?”

“Magician. I’m a street performer. You know, hocus pocus, pull a rabbit out of a hat, that sort of thing.”

“Why would you keep a rabbit in your hat?”

‘You know, Johanna, no one’s ever asked me that question before.”

“It would seem to be an obvious question.”

I chuckle. “You’re right, it is. Which one out there is your son?”

“The tall blonde one.” She gives a loud, shrill whistle that makes me flinch and raises her hand. Everyone left looks our way but only one child, the blonde boy I had noticed before, breaks away and runs towards us, pulling up and stopping right in front of his mother. She gently touches his shoulders and turns him to face me.

“Mr. Mastiff, this is my child, Lee. Say hello to Mr. Mastiff, Lee.”

He smiles brightly, thrusting his hand towards me. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Mastiff.”

Lee? My hand reaches out on automatic to shake his but it is a dispirited handshake as my mind is elsewhere. Lee! Is that a coincidence? I stare more closely at mother and son. They have the same sandy blonde hair, the same blue eyes. It’s hard to say how old Lee is but it couldn’t be much more than eleven.

“Where did you say you were from?” I hesitantly ask Johanna.

“A long way from this remarkable town,” she answers.

“Exactly how far away?”

“Very far away,” she replies, dodging my question but staring at me with a look of hope in her eyes.

I slowly raise my right hand and reach inside my shirt, carefully lifting my first year anniversary ring up by the thin gold chain and clear of my shirt, letting it dangle and spin on three inches of chain.

Johanna smiles and does exactly the same thing, though the ring on her chain is larger than mine.

“Leeanna,” she says. “I think we’ve found your mother.”

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

There’s no car rental company at the Loogootee airport. It’s little better than an old dirt strip though it is paved. There are just two hangars, an office, and a flight school. I give the mechanic $200 to rent one of the work trucks until Ridgeway and I are done. I’m sure they don’t see many corporate jets fly in for the day. Ridgeway is surprised with how free I’m being with the money.

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for all this? Renting that jet cost a ton.”

“Captain, we need answers and we need them now. If we find out something important, all sins will be forgiven. If we fail, I can only be fired once. I’ve already got one high heeled foot on a banana peel as it is.”

“If you say so. Where to now?”

“Get in the truck, you’re driving.” I pull out my cell phone and launch the GPS app. “We’ve already got the name and address for the man arrested for possession of Willis’s gun. Let’s find him ASAP and see if he’ll talk to us.”

She opens the driver side door and climbs in. “There’s no way he’s talking to us. He can’t be that stupid.”

I get in the other side and close the door as she starts the engine. I look at the display on my phone.

“Turn left when you exit onto the highway. Yes, he can be that stupid. If he got caught cooking meth, then he’s an idiot. If he was caught with as much as he was charged with, then he’s a greedy idiot. We aren’t the police; we’re just private citizens with money to burn. He’ll talk.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“What in Zaphod’s name are you two doing here?!”

Once we both were certain of each other’s identities, I hurried Johnathyn and Leeanna to a secluded bench with some privacy. After a round of hugs and kisses, it was time to find out what was going on.

“Actually, there are three of us,” answers Johnathyn. “Miran Pegues brought us over to this world. He has been our guide and has been invaluable. We owe him much, Alexia.”

That makes sense. Pegues has the most experience and would like nothing more than for me to owe him a favor.

“That says how but not why, Johnathyn.”

“Aren’t you happy to see us, Mother?”

I lean down and kiss Leeanna on the top of her head.

“I’m ecstatic to see the both of you, Lee. It’s a dream come true, but that doesn’t answer my question.” I look at Johnathyn over the top of her head and raise one eyebrow, giving him a look I hope he hasn’t forgotten.

He sighs and looks away. “We have failed you, Alexia.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that everything has gone oddswoggle,” answers Pegues as he rounds the corner, invading our little patch of privacy amongst the willow bushes.

“Where the hell have you been, Mirantha?” I ask.

“The far side of the woods, keeping watch.”

“So, this was all your idea?”

“No, it was Dierdra Denson’s, our dear leader of the Witch’s Council. One of your creations if I recall correctly, Alexia.”

“Whatever happened to ‘my Queen’?”

“You relinquished that title. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before others sought to claim it.”

“Will somebody tell me what is going on?!”

They look at each other for a moment before Johnathyn flicks his wrist towards Pegues.

“You tell her, Pegues. You understand better than I.”

“You understand all too well, Johanna. You just don’t want to be the one to deliver the bad news.”

“I’m waiting,” I growl.

Pegues bows slightly, contradicting his last statement about not treating me as the Queen.

“Very well, I will be the Jason Goat. I will give you the short version. We can discuss details when there is more privacy. Briefly put, the people did not accept the Witch’s Council as the ruler of the land. They were used to having a Queen to rule them and they would accept nothing less.”

“Everybody refused?”

“Not exactly. Many were willing to try this new form of government but the Council was ineffective, wracked with dissension.”

“Beckwith!”

He nods. “Yes, but not just her. There is no tradition of witches working together, of compromising. They argue, they discuss but nothing gets decided. Many people tired of this and turned back to the old ways. Any man who sought power found himself a witch who would then declare herself Queen of the land and he would form an army around her, mostly bought and paid for but just as deadly as true believers.”

“How many?” I sigh.

“Five Queens when we left two weeks ago. There could be more by now.”

“What about the Queen’s Guard?”

“As you well know, the Queen’s Guard is loyal to the Queen. That is tradition, one you took brilliant advantage of. There is no tradition of loyalty to a Witch’s Council. Besides, The Guard is organized regionally. When the different Queens declared themselves ruler, the Guard divided up along regional lines. General Packer has managed to keep the Guard based in Glory loyal to the Witch’s Council but it is mostly out of respect for his leadership, not for anything the Council has accomplished.”

“How strong are his troops?”

“They are the best of what remains of the Guard, best trained, best armed, most disciplined, but they are not large in numbers. Several of the other Queens have more men, they just aren’t as good. It is a return of the days before Opulessa.”

“Are any of the witches claiming to be Queen any good?”

“You mean, are they powerful, Alexia?”

“Yeah, can I kick their traitorous asses?”

“You can beat them all, Mother!” Leeanna declared.

I hugged her shoulders, pulling her tightly against my body but looked over at Pegues.

“True?”

“Yes. Oppulessa had been very effective in preventing a powerful challenger from ever being born. The most powerful that I am aware of is a Sixty One. That isn’t as important right now. The Witch is just a figurehead for a man seeking power. What matters is the size and strength of the army supporting the man who chose the witch to be Queen. The Queen with the largest and best army is supported by an old friend of yours.”

“NO! He’s supposed to be in prison! Locked up in some ice cold cell for the rest of his miserable life!”

“He was, until civic authority broke down in the Northern Region. Redmond Dupree is now the primary supporter of Queen Tammy.”

“Queen TAMMY! What kind of name is Queen Tammy?”

Miran shoots me a sly smile. “I wouldn’t know, Alexia. It is a name of long history and not uncommon in my world. I hear she is quite beautiful.”

“Stuff it, Pegues. What does Dierdra think I can do about all this?”

Johnathyn reaches over, taking my hand.

“Return to your rightful world, your rightful place as Queen, put an end to all these false Queens. Bring peace to our world.”

“Johnathyn, we discussed all this the last time.”

“How could it be worse?”

“It may be worse with me there.”

“We don’t know that, not for certain.”

“And we don’t know for certain that it would be better. Is this just Dierdra’s great idea or is there some kind of big groundswell of support for my return?”

Johnathyn won’t answer, looking for help from Pegues.

“It is Denson’s idea. She has not even sought support from the other witches.”

“I’m sure Beckwith is waiting for me with open arms.”

“Likely not, but the remains of the Queen’s Guard would support you and we might pick up additional support from those straddling the fence. Alexia, for what it is worth, I think you should do it.”

Say what you will about Pegues’ lack of loyalty, morality and trustworthiness, he does have a keen political mind and a sixth sense for survival.

“Why should I return, Miran?”

“As one of your great political philosophers, General Colin Powell, stated so well, ‘You break it, you bought it. ’”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It had been a hot and somewhat productive day. We tracked down the meth maker to a single lot with a shabby mobile home parked on it. I bet if a cop had been along with us, this guy would have been busted again. I’d say the guy was almost three quarters high when he answered our knocks on his door. Donna White introduced herself and me as employees of the National Rifle Association. The meth head really liked that, didn’t even bother asking for proof. White said that the NRA kept track of people arrested for exercising their Second Amendment rights and that we were there to help any way we could, including money to defray legal fees.

The meth head, name of Dilbert Daws, was already represented by the Public Defender, big surprise, but said that he could certainly use the cash to pay other bills. Such as buying more supplies to make meth, I’d wager. God! That shit is so addictive!

White quickly steered the conversation towards protecting the next link in the chain, the man who sold him that gun. She showed Daws pictures of Mastiff and Thompson but he claimed not to recognize either one of them, which frankly made me feel better about both of them. You’d hope that either one would have had enough integrity not to sell something that dangerous to a dick like Dilbert Daws.

White pushed him pretty hard on the pictures and I felt he was telling the truth. When she asked for the name of his seller, Daws was a little more uncertain. My guess is that he wanted to hang onto that little bit of information to sweeten his eventual plea deal on the meth and possession charges. That’s when White pointed out that we weren’t cops and that we didn’t plan on telling the cops anything. We wanted to get to the seller before the cops did to make sure that his civil rights were going to be protected from the assault of the Obama administration’s anti-gun goon squads.

That little speech and $5,000 got us the name of Earl Sweeney, local used car dealer and mechanic. It’s late, almost 8:30 p.m. local time, when we reach Sweeney’s business. You can tell that he’s almost ready to close but White wants to get this done today. She starts the whole NRA song and dance again but Sweeney’s a little more skeptical, probably because he isn’t stoned out of his mind. She manages to get him to look at the pictures and he actually says he may recognize Mastiff before he wises up and kicks us out of his business, pissing White off royally. He did let it slip that Mastiff showed up with a couple of local girls but refused to identify them.

Which is how we find ourselves spending the night sharing a double room in a less than four star motel in Loogootee, Indiana. She let me choose where we ate and I chose Steak and Shake. I think it’s been some time since Donna White ate fast food.

After returning from supper, she laid all her paperwork out on the table and began reviewing her notes.

“How do you expect to find those two girls?” I ask.

“Sweeney knows and I’m not done with him.”

“We already know Mastiff was in town, Sweeney admitted recognizing him. He had to be the one who sold him the gun.”

“Sweeney thought he recognized Mastiff. It still doesn’t explain how the gun got back to this universe. Mastiff is from this universe.”

“Are we sure of that?”

“Yes. I borrowed the equipment and checked it myself. We had no men over there, strictly women.”

“Are we certain the Generator on that side was destroyed?”

“Short of sending someone back with a portable Generator, there’s no way to be certain. The top brass may have already ordered that. I would have if I were them. The fact that Larson is so confident that no one can cross over from their side makes me believe they’ve confirmed destruction. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Agreed. Maybe Mastiff and Thompson are working together?”

“How and why?”

“I don’t know. I’m too tired to think straight. We’ve been on the go since 11:00 a.m. this morning and I’m beat.”

White yawns, causing me to yawn, then White yawns again.

“You’re right, Captain. We’ll both feel better after some sleep.” She pushes the mattress on her bed several times. “Though I don’t know if that is possible on this hammock of a mattress.”

I’ve laid on mine and it seems fine. I’ve certainly slept on worse.

“You can have this bed if you want.”

“No thank you Captain. I’d already tried that one. This is the better of the two, though that isn’t saying much.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We exited the subway and all walked back to my apartment, Leeanna between Johnathyn and I, all three of us holding hands. Pegues brought up the rear, carrying my tables. I was gentleman enough to have the duffel bag on my back. When we reached the building, I thought for a moment about trying to sneak them all in but Mrs. LaRouche was waiting at the door.

“Friends of yours, Mr. Mastiff?”

What could I tell her? How could I explain? The truth could be deadly. Just give her a choice.

“Mrs. LaRouche, I’ve neglected to tell you some things about myself and my past. I know a secret, a very dangerous secret for any person to know. It’s the kind of secret that gets a person killed. My mother and brother knew that secret and they were killed because of it, at least partly for that reason. To answer your question about these people requires me to tell you that secret. Their presence here is not a threat to your safety or your life. You can just step aside to let us pass and life will go on for you as it has all the past years. Or, I can answer that question and change everything you thought you knew about the entire universe you live in plus endanger your life in the process. It’s your option.”

“Very impressive speech, Mr. Mastiff. Been practicing it long?” she smirks.

“A little while. Unfortunately, that fact doesn’t make it any less true. I’m afraid we’ve come to a bit of a crossroads, Mrs. LaRouche. You can take it on faith that we won’t do anything to endanger you or you can join us but joining us is a whole different Magilla than you’ve ever experienced before.”

She points towards Leeanna. “And you would involve a child in something this dangerous?”

“My daughter has been a part of this all her life.”

I can feel Lee squeeze my hand. I squeeze back. LaRouche looks at us skeptically. “This boy is your daughter? That’s impossible!”

“My mother doesn’t lie!” Leeanna snaps.

LaRouche is agog. “Mother?! Did she call you ‘Mother’?”

“As I said, change everything you thought you knew about the universe.”

Pegues slid next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Alexia, is this wise? We should not involve otherworlders in our affairs.”

“I’m an ‘otherworlder’?” asks LaRouche, her offense at the word clear in her voice. She glances from face to face for several seconds then extends her hand.

“Give me your hand, child.”

Leeanna pulls back. “Mother?” she asks hesitantly.

“It’s alright, Lee,” I answer calmly. “She’s a friend. She won’t hurt you.”

LaRouche keeps her hand out. “It won’t hurt, Lee.”

Lee looks first at Johnathyn, then me, then gives LaRouche her right hand. She gently takes Lee’s hand and closes her eyes, breathing deeply.

“What is she doing, Mother?” Lee whispers.

“She’s reading your aura. It won’t hurt.”

“Is she a witch too?”

“Yes, she is.”

LaRouche gasps, her eyes flying open. She lets Leeanna’s hand fall from her grasp. She eyes Johnathyn for a moment before reaching out towards him. He gives her his hand without a word. She begins the reading just as before, with the same results. She turns her attention to Pegues, who draws back.

“I’ll just keep this hand to myself, thank you very much.”

“It could help us,” I tell him.

“I’d rather not.”

“What if your Queen requests it?”

He considers it for several moments before reluctantly giving in, thrusting his hand out so that LaRouche can grip it firmly. She hadn’t forgotten about his ‘otherworlder” crack. This time, it takes a little longer for her to react. She huffs several times before recoiling, dropping Pegues hand as if it were a hot rock. She actually massages her right hand with her left, like she’s trying to push life back into it. After rubbing her hand a minute or so, she faces me.

“I thought your aura was unique, Mr. Mastiff and yet these three have that same twist. Her’s …” she points at Pegues “… is so twisted, I can only compare it to a M.C. Esher print.”

“There is an explanation but the price for it is your loyalty.”

“How can I promise anything without some hint as to what’s involved? You ask too much of me, Lance.”

“Then we’ll be on our way. Where are you all staying?”

“NO! Wait!” LaRouche shouts. “I must know. I promise I won’t turn you in. That is the best I can do.”

“Then this is the best that I can do. Near Loogootee, Indiana, there is a machine that can open portals to different universes. These three live in one of those universes but crossing over to this universe forces a change in their sex. I have been to that universe, where I became Queen Alexia, the most powerful witch in the world. This is Johnathyn Tyber, my husband, Leeanna Tyber, our daughter and Miran Pegues, thief, cheat, liar and con man extraordinaire.”

“Really, Alexia!” Pegues protests. “What have I stolen? Recently?”

I continue, ignoring his objection. “Pegues has crossed back and forth a number of times, which could account for the twisted nature of his aura. I’ve only been back and forth once, Johnathyn and Leeanna have just done the one way trip.”

LaRouche nods her head. “That explains a lot of what I saw, as hard as it is to believe.”

“Believe it, Mistress,” says Johnathyn. “My wife speaks the truth.”

“Mistress?” LaRouche quizzes.

“That’s how a witch is traditionally addressed over there,” I answer.

“I think I like that,” she huffs. “Respectful.” She walks inside. “Come in. I’ll help you fix supper for your family. And the thief.”

* * * *** * * * ***

I woke to the shrill skreech of metal grinding on metal. The air conditioning unit in the motel room had malfunctioned and was making an unholy din.

“What the FUCK is that?!” mumbled Ridgeway.

“The AC Unit,” I groaned. “Take a look at it, will you?”

“ME?! What the hell do I know about air conditioning?”

“You’ve got a degree in Mechanical Engineering.”

“Which has nothing to do with fixing shit. What’s your degree in?”

“I’ve got an MBA from Wharton.”

“No community college degree in HVAC?”

“No. I’ll call the office. Find the off switch on that damn thing! It’s putting my teeth on edge.”

She turns on the table lamp between the beds, temporarily blinding me as I fumble for the phone. I end up shading my eyes with my left hand before I can find it. The phone rings for the third time before Ridgeway manages to turn the infernal machine off. Thank God! The office answers. It’s a young female voice.

“Night desk. How can I help you?”

“This is …” I fumble around until I can find my key card. “Room 125. Our air conditioner has broken.”

“Just put it on vent. It’s not hot outside tonight.”

“It’s the fan that broke. Setting it on vent doesn’t solve the problem.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?”

Ignorant Bitch! “I expect you to get someone in here to fix the damn thing or find us another room! That’s what I expect you to do about it!” I slam the handset down.

There’s something satisfying about slamming an old style phone handset down when you hang up in anger. I know the person on the other side hears nothing more than a quiet click but you like to think that the impact set their ears ringing.

Someone should make an app for that. They’d be a millionaire.

“What’s up?” asks Ridgeway.

“They’ll send somebody.” Pretty damn fast or she’ll hear from me again.

“Well, it didn’t sound good. I don’t know if they’ll be able to fix it.”

“If they can’t, we’re changing rooms.”

“Is it even worth it? I mean it’s …” She glances at the table clock. “3:23 in the morning. How much longer are we going to be here?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Captain. I paid good money for this armpit of a room. Is it asking too much that the AC work?”

“No. You didn’t. You put the room on your expense account. It just seems like a big to do over something that isn’t …”

There’s a quick knock on the door followed by an almost instantaneous thock of the electric deadbolt opening. The door is pushed open a few inches.

“Hellooo. Night clerk. Here to fix the AC.”

The door continues to slowly swing open. A slight, red haired girl is standing there, hand on the door handle.

“Where are your tools?” I demand.

“My what?”

“Tools. How do you plan to fix this without tools?”

“Oh, I see. It’s not that kind of problem. Tom, he’s the maintenance guy, told me to watch out for the unit in this room. I’d forgotten but when you said it was Room 125, it rung a bell. It’s a simple fix.”

“Didn’t sound like a simple fix,” says Ridgeway.

She switches on the overhead light. “Don’t worry, it is. It’s just jumped the fan belt. See, there’s just one motor that runs both the fan and compressor. An electric clutch controls when the compressor kicks in but the motor mount is broken in one place so the motor can shift, the pulley wheels get out of alignment.” She slips through the room, past our open bags and all the papers on the table. Quickly dropping to her knees, she slides the metal cover off the front of the AC unit, revealing the equipment inside. “See,” she points to something on her left, “just as I said. Here’s the belt. When it jumped, the idler wheel hit the pulley. That’s what made all the noise.” She looks up at me. “You want to see what I’m doing to fix it?”

“Why would I care? Just repair the damn thing!”

“Well, in case it happens again. You won’t have to call me, you can do it yourself. It’ll be faster.”

“Young lady, if it happens again, you will be getting us a new room.”

“I’ll watch,” Ridgeway sighs. “Anything to get this done and I can go back to sleep.”

As Ridgeway approaches the end of the room, she knocks some papers off the table and onto the floor, landing next to the girl.

“I’ll take care of that,” she says. “You just watch what I do.”

Ridgeway leans down, grabbing a chair with her right hand to steady herself, and looks over the girl’s shoulder as she does something to the insides of the machine. It takes just a few seconds.

She turns her head, looking back at Ridgeway. “See that?”

Ridgeway straightens up. “Roger that.”

“Great,” the girl replies as she collects the papers scattered on the floor next to her and stands up. As she begins to return them to the table, she stops, giving the photo of Mastiff a better look.

“Where’d you get this picture of Alex?”

“Of who?” I ask.

“Of Alex. He didn’t have a beard back then but there’s no doubt it’s him.” She looks back at the photo and sighs deeply. “I didn’t think it was possible but he looks even better with that little pointy beard, like the Devil or something. Damn!”

“You know him?”

“Oh yeah! Came through here like, four months ago, something like that.”

I grab the photo of Alex Thompson and hand it to her. “Did this man also come through here, maybe about the same time, maybe later?”

She looks it over and thinks about it. “Naw, I don’t think so. Can’t be sure though, we get a lot of people through here and most of them are for just the night. I can’t remember all of them.”

“Then why are you certain about this man?”

“Are you kidding? Look at him! Wait a second.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her cell phone, swipes at the screen several times and then hands it to me. “Tell me that you could ever forget that face and body.”

Her phone is displaying a photo of a bare chested Mastiff, sans beard. His body is simply sculpted. A perfect male body and an incredibly handsome face. There’s little doubt it’s the same man. She reaches out, taking the phone back.

“You want to see something else?” she asks with a conspiratorial grin. Without waiting for a reply, she swipes the screen again and then hands the phone to Ridgeway, who immediately chokes, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh my GOD!” she croaks

“Yeah,” the girl giggles. “Ain’t it?”

“How’d you …?”

“In the hot tub.”

“Did you …?”

“Nooo,” she moans. “I wanted to, I mean, just look at it! But his wife and daughter had just been killed by a drunk driver. It wasn’t the right time, damn the luck.”

“What are you two talking about? Give me that phone,” I demand.

Ridgeway tightens her grip on the phone. “I don’t know if this is something you should really see.”

I hold out my right hand, snap my fingers and then open it, palm up. “Captain, there is little in this world I haven’t already seen.”

She hands the phone to me, placing it in the palm of my extended hand. “If you say so, Donna.”

I turn the screen of the phone towards me and look at the photo displayed there. And look at it. And look at it. And look at it. With a trembling finger and thumb, I touch the screen lightly to enlarge the photo and then, starting at the bottom, scroll up, up, up, up, up, up, and finally up to the top. I become aware that someone is calling my name.

“Ms. White?”

“Uuumm yes,” I answer, not taking my eyes from the screen of the phone.

“Ms. White!”

I look away from the screen. “Yes! What is it?”

Ridgeway reaches out and grips the phone but I don’t release it.

“The girl would like her phone back. It’s her phone and her pictures. Let go.”

I look down at my hand but Ridgeway’s palm covers the screen. I reluctantly loosen my grip, the spell broken. Ridgeway takes one more long, lingering look before returning the phone to the girl with a whispered apology of “Sorry.”

The girl gives her a saucy wink. “No prob. Happens all the time. I told Alex I’d delete these but I just couldn’t. How many times in a girl’s life are you going to run into something that big?! And who’d believe you if you didn’t have proof?”

“I sure as hell wouldn’t have,” says Ridgeway.

“There ya’ go,” she says, pocketing the phone.

“You said his name is Alex?” I ask.

“Yeah, Alex.”

“Any last name?”

“No. He wanted to keep off the records.”

“And you agreed?”

She reaches for her pocket. “Do I need to show you the pictures again?”

“No, I guess not.”

“So, why do you guys have Alex’s picture?”

My mind isn’t operating at full efficiency, still contemplating what I saw displayed on the screen of that phone so Ridgeway answers.

“Alex has become a bit of a celebrity in New York City. He’s got a magic act. We’re just doing background research. You know, the old ‘up close and personal’ angle, for a personality profile.”

“You mean like in ‘Us’ magazine?”

“Something like that, Ms….” I inquire.

“Me? I’m Julie Schmidt.”

“Well, Ms. Schmidt, is there anything else you can tell us about Alex?”

“Not that you could print in your magazine. Though, I will say one thing. The way he talked about it, I would NOT want to be those dudes driving the car that killed his family. When he catches up with them? Very bad news.”

CHAPTER FORTY

They were all gathered together in my apartment. Lee and I on the couch, Johnathyn in the chair next to us and Pegues sitting across from us on a chair borrowed from Ms. LaRouche. We had told her everything over supper. She took it well and seemed to believe it. She had left us to get keys to the two empty apartments. She is going to let everyone stay here until we’re finished.

Lee and I had cleaned up, just like the old days, before returning to the living room. The television was on but the sound on mute. We were watching to see if the video of my act made it on the local news broadcast.

“So, Leeanna, what do you think of New York City.”

“It is everything you said it was, Mother! The buildings so tall! So many people! The horseless carriages! Everything. At first, I was afraid to ride on the subway, I was afraid to even go underground, but when I saw how big the cavern was, I was amazed! One time, a man tried to take Father’s purse. He had a knife.”

“What?! Why didn’t someone tell me?”

“It was of no consequence,” says Johnathyn. “I barely broke his arm, though the other riders seemed to enjoy it. Many applauded.”

I can imagine. A subway rider’s fantasy come true.

“Where were you when my family was attacked, Pegues?”

“Searching for you. They refused to stay at the hotel, insisting on acting like tourists. I warned them but it did little good.”

I felt a momentary flush of pride. “How did you eventually find me?”

“We did not,” says Johnathyn. “It was clearly impossible with so many people. Miran said that you were quite skilled at hiding in the past so we relied on the rings. We waited until you found us.”

“How could you possibly expect …”

“I knew, Alexia. There was no doubt in my mind,” he says.

“Nor mine,” adds Leeanna as she snuggles against me.

“That is why they had to come with me, Alexia. Without them, there was no chance of success. We need to talk, you and I, before …”

Lee bolts upright, pointing at the television. “Mother! That’s you!” she shouts.

“I’ll be damned.” I grab the remote off the coffee table in front of me and hit the mute button.

“…most remarkable performances you will ever see in your life. I promise that this is all original, unedited video, except for time.”

The video rolls. They end up giving me almost three minutes at the end of the broadcast, the community interest segment. It’s pretty impressive work. The cameraman did a good job. At the end of the segment, the female anchor addresses the reporter.

“Amazing footage, Carol! Simply amazing.”

“It’s all completely true, though, to be honest, the video doesn’t do him justice. Lance Mastiff must be seen to be believed.”

“Are you a believer, Carol?”

She sqirms slightly in her seat. “And how,” she sighs. The show signs off and I switch the set off.

“So, what do you think?” I ask. “I want your honest opinions but you need to keep in mind that I’m working with very little magic. This world has a tiny amount of magic when compared with home. Now, you can all tell me how wonderful I am.”

Johnathyn and Leeanna laugh along with me, both of them full of praise, but Pegues says nothing.

“What do you think of Alexia’s performance, Pegues?” asks Johnathyn. “Was it not wonderful?”

“How did you find an area with so much magic in a city such as this, Alexia?”

“I didn’t find it, Pegues, I made it. I started small and built it from there.”

“How did you even start small?”

“I worked at it. There’s some belief in magic around this building so I worked and practiced on some simple stuff, took it out to the Park and began the shows. The more people who watched, the more believers. I added bigger tricks, got more believers. I’ve made a pretty strong hot spot out there right now and it’s not just a coincidence that the main office of The Consortium is Ground Zero.”

“You intend to finish what you started here, despite the desperate need for you to return?”

“Yes, Miran. I’m this close to finding the evidence I need. It won’t take more than a few days, at most. We can talk about my possible return home tomorrow. I need to get my rest tonight if I’m going to be on top of my game for the lunchtime show.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“I knew it! I knew Mastiff was Thompson but no one would believe me! Now we have the proof.”

Julie Schmidt had just left the room. I wanted to give her a few moments to return to the night office before celebrating.

“As soon as we can get back to New York, we can assemble a hit team and take him out!”

“We don’t have proof, Ms. White.”

“What do you mean; he called himself ‘Alex’ for God’s sake. What more do you need?”

“It could have been a coincidence.”

Why is Ridgeway raining on my parade? “Please. Do you really think it’s a coincidence? You can’t possibly be that stupid.”

“Don’t insult me, White. Have the odds shifted that Lance Mastiff and Alex Thompson are one and the same? Yeah, they have, but you don’t have proof. Without proof, your company is never going to authorize another death. They may not anyway, even with proof. Why kill the man?”

“Because he’s coming after us! After ME! He wants me dead! I was the one that passed on Dupree’s request, no, his DEMAND that the Thompson family be killed to remove the threat to his government.”

“Does Thompson know this for a fact?”

“Of course he does! He sat in my office over there and did his magic enhanced hacking until he found the request.”

“Why didn’t he kill you right then? He could have. He certainly dealt with Dupree, didn’t he?”

I still have nightmares about that. Haven’t been able to eat pork either.

“Maybe I escaped before he got the chance, Captain.”

“No, Alexia wanted us to leave as quickly as possible.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We both know The Consortium wasn’t going to clean up the mess they left behind over there and Alexia had no leverage to make them.”

“What about her threat to kill everyone there?”

“We were all expendable as far as Winthrop Group was concerned. You were probably too. Once Alexia decided to shut down production, she no longer had a bargaining chip and she knew it. She wanted us out of there immediately and we obliged. Killing you wouldn’t have sped up the process but it wouldn’t have slowed it down either. You were a freebie and she didn’t take it then. Why would he take it now?”

“So, you’re saying my death would have been inconsequential. Do I understand you, Captain?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

How could she think my death would mean nothing?! How can she ignore the current threat to MY life?! Perhaps she should know the truth about what her life is worth.

“Are you aware that The Winthrop Group has been systematically killing practically every soldier that served over there in order to protect the knowledge of the other universe and The Consortium’s possession of the technology to access that universe? Were you aware of that, Captain Ridgeway? Are their deaths inconsequential?”

“WHAT?!”

“Ever try to contact any of your old comrades since returning to this world? No, you couldn’t. They’re all on some kind of secret, hush hush, job in a far off, dangerous part of the world. Is that what you’ve been told?”

She was calmer than I expected.

“How do YOU know this, Ms. White?”

Suddenly, mentioning this didn’t seem like a smart idea. “I … uugghh … I don’t actually know it to be absolutely true. I’ve heard rumors, just rumors. Nothing substantiated.”

Ridgeway slowly leans towards me, subtly flexing the surprisingly substantial muscles in her arms, shoulders and back. Her threat is clear as is the anger in her eyes. “You didn’t think it was worthwhile to try and substantiate rumors about the wholesale murder of people you worked with for months at a stretch?”

I don’t usually make mistakes like this. Letting my emotions get the better of me only leads to trouble. Hope I can talk my way out of it.

“Captain Ridgeway, I was and still am in the same boat you are. It’s not just my corporate future at risk here. People at my level can disappear just as easily as the common soldier and for the same reasons.”

“Yet, you did nothing about it until the bell tolled for thee. I guess I should have expected as much from management.”

“I may be management but I’m just middle management. I don’t create policy.”

“No, you don’t!” she spat, “but you sure as hell could have let us know what was going on!”

“And then what happens? I simply disappear, an accident of some kind. They’re bigger than the both of us, Ridgeway.”

“Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. We won’t know until we try. What do we have to lose?”

We? “You’ll still help me?”

She stares, clearly considering if I’m worth her support. She finally raises her right hand, pointing the index finger at me

“If you keep your job at The Consortium, I expect you to help all the grunts who spent time over there. If you don’t, I’ll come for you. Understand?”

One death threat at a time.

“I understand perfectly, Captain. Wake the pilot, we’ve got a flight to make and DNA to gather.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I’d left Lance and his friends upstairs, returning to my closed store to think about all that I’d been told. An entire universe driven by magic! It was almost inconceivable. If I hadn’t read their auras, I wouldn’t have believed it. I could not sense any subterfuge, certainly not from the boy or the tall woman. The shorter woman was a different story. It may have been her basic nature but she was much less trustworthy, though she mentioned little that didn’t support everything the others said.

I’d love to see that world, a world where my kind are respected, honored even, though apparently they are also hunted. I guess no one cares about you until you can make a difference. Then you draw attention, both good and bad.

This universe may be the better place to live. To a ripe old age. I hear someone walking down the stairs in the back hallway and then down the hallway towards the showroom. Towards me. I step back behind the counter into the shadows and wait a few seconds. The door to the hall slowly opens. A woman sticks her head into the showroom.

“Mistress LaRouche?”

I reach over and switch on the lights.

“Over here, Mirantha. Or is it Miran?”

“Which ever you prefer, Mistress.”

I step closer to her, giving her face a careful review. It is difficult to believe that she was a man two weeks ago. She notices my interest and smiles.

“You have questions, Mistress LaRouche?”

“So many, Mirantha. So many. Where do I start?”

“Where ever you prefer, Mistress.”

“Why are you down here?”

Her eyes hold mine for a moment then she breaks away, slowly strolling up a nearby aisle, viewing the merchandise on display.

“I felt like I was intruding on family time. Alex, Johnathyn and Leeanna wanted to spend time together as a family.”

“Did they tell you that?”

“No, Mistress, I could sense it though.”

“In your world, Alex Thompson is Alexia Tyber. Married to Johnathyn Tyber, step-mother to Leeanna Tyber and is a powerful witch. Correct?”

She continues to wander the aisles. “Mostly correct, Mistress. In the end, Alexia was the most powerful witch in my world. By far.”

“She had no peers?”

“None that were known, Mistress.”

“What about this Witch’s Council you mentioned?”

“It is a group of 13 witches. When both Opulessa and Alexia were there, they were all much stronger. With both of them gone, they are much less so. Due to their inability to cooperate, their power to influence events is greatly reduced.” She picks up a monkey’s skull, checks it out, returns it to the table and continues silently browsing.

“So now, with everybody over here, Alex returns to being a man but Johnathyn is now a woman and Leeanna a boy. Alex is no longer a powerful witch but is now a wizard.”

“So it would seem, Mistress. I am referring to the part about him being a wizard. That Johnathyn is now a woman and Leeanna a boy is indisputable. On my world, only women are capable of wielding magic. It seems that on your world, both men and women are able to do so but there is very little magic to wield.”

“A problem that Alex, as Lance Mastiff, seems to have solved.”

“Apparently so.”

“He said it was your idea.”

“Not exactly, Mistress. I thought that the change from a woman with great power to a man with no power might be too much for him. I know that it would have been a problem for me. I also knew he was going to try to avenge the deaths of his family and would need any advantage he might be able to get. I believed that he should seek out whatever magic he could find in this world and told him so. I never thought he would accomplish what he has.”

I could tell from the tone of her voice that this discovery was not a pleasant surprise.

“Why does this worry you?”

She stops, quickly snapping her head around to glare at me.

“What magic is this? Are you in my mind?”

“No magic. Woman’s intuition. Plus, any good shop owner can read a potential customer. You’re clearly worried about something, something you did not expect to find.”

Mirantha carefully approaches me, pulling a stool next to mine and sits down. “Mistress, I need your advice. I am concerned about Alexia. You are her friend and know her better than I.”

“I have known Alex since he was a little boy but I’ve never met Alexia.”

“They are one and the same.”

“Not necessarily so. Are you the same person while in this universe as you were in your universe?”

“Of course I am!”

She sounded a bit defensive when she said that but I wasn’t in a position to challenge her.

“If you say so. What is your concern?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Can I be honest with this witch? She is a friend of Alex. If I say too much, she may alert him, revealing what I tell her. Despite what she said, she may be able to read my thoughts, rendering my ability to hold my tongue useless. This is a dangerous talk but I need additional information.

“We told you about Queen Opulessa, how powerful she was and how she abused that power.”

“It appeared that the men running the government also abused their power.”

“No doubt, Mistress, but I do not have any say about those men now. I do with Alex.”

“Why would Alex abuse his power?”

“He is young. He is idealistic. He is a radical.”

“And you are a thief. Or so I’ve been told.”

“I am a patriot, Mistress. I fear for the future of my world. I desire to do what is best for my world. If I can do that and make a small profit at the same time, what is wrong with that?”

“On our world, we say that a man can not serve two masters.”

“I have always served many masters. Perhaps not all of them equally well. In this case, I am afraid that Alex has become too powerful for my world.”

“I don’t understand. He hasn’t done anything remotely like what he did over there.”

“You are correct but he is doing more over in this world than any witch could do if they were brought to this world, including Opulessa. Almost all of our witches could not do on my world what I saw Alex do on your television in this world. Somehow, he has gotten stronger.”

“I may have an explanation. Do you have sports on your world? Athletic competitions?”

“Some regions have competitions between the younger men. Riding, shooting, running, that sort of thing.”

“This world has the same only larger. Men who race long distances will train in high altitude cities because there is less oxygen. They stress their systems until they can perform under adverse conditions. When they come down off the mountains to race where oxygen levels are normal, they perform much better because they are more efficient than those who trained where oxygen was plentiful. They learned how to do more with less.”

“I think I understand, Mistress. Yes, I’m afraid not only of her new found power but what she will do with it. I was sent here to persuade her to return with me, to be the salvation of my world but what if she isn’t the salvation but is instead the means to its destruction?”

“Are you truly afraid of that?”

“Mistress, you have not seen what I have seen. Witches at the level of Opulessa and Alexia are only limited by their imaginations. Alexia has experienced so much more than anyone on my world, has such a better understanding of how things really work thanks to her kom-pu-ter and is now much stronger than she was when she left. I am at a loss as to what I should do.”

“And you want me to tell you what to do?”

“I seek your advice, Mistress, but I will decide what I will do.”

“Not Alex?”

“It will be his choice in the end, but I will choose to make the offer.”

“Hasn’t the offer already been made?”

“It can always be revoked.”

“How could you do that?”

I would just leave, taking the portal generator with me but I dare not tell her that.

“I would explain it to Alex. I am certain he would understand.”

She smiles with her mouth but not her eyes, laughing lightly.

“Yes, I’m sure he would. We are both on the horns of a dilemma, Mirantha. I would not want to deny Alex his chance to fulfill his destiny by saving your world. Have no doubt, he would do his best but he is human. Humans are weak, we rationalize, we’re selfish, we have egos. I can’t predict success or failure but I know he would try. My problem is that he could also help change my world. With his abilities, he could help restore magic in this universe. Look what he has accomplished in such a short time! He’s young, handsome, and articulate. He could continue to build on what he started. There may be no limit to what he could accomplish.”

“Or he could abuse that position in your world, Mistress.”

“As I said, he is human. So am I and so are you. None of us are gods.”

“Alexia could be close to a god if she returns to my world. What is your advice to me, Mistress?”

She turns her head away, looking off into the distance, lightly tapping a finger on the top of her shop counter. The finger stops and she fixes her eyes on mine.

“My advice, Mirantha Pegues, is to complete your mission. Let Alex choose his own fate.”

Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

It was easier to talk after Pegues left the room.

“Tell me, Lee. What’s it like being a boy?”

“It’s so strange, Mother. I’m stronger and faster and louder. People pay attention to me.”

“Tell me about it. What do you think about wearing pants?”

“It’s summer. A dress would be cooler but Mr. Pegues wouldn’t allow it.”

Thank you, Miran.

“He’s right about that, Lee. Your father, on the other hand …”

“Do not be foolish, Alexia.”

“Awwww come on, Johnathyn. I’m sure you’ve got the legs for it. Don’t you think your father is beautiful, Leeanna?”

She giggled despite the look Johnathyn gave her.

“Yes, Mother, she’s very beautiful. You’re quite handsome too.”

“Well thanks, Leeanna. I’ve always thought you had good taste. Maybe we can find the time to go dress shopping for your father while you’re here.”

“Do not bother,” he grumbled. “We will not be here that long. We need to return home as quickly as possible.”

“You are coming with us, aren’t you, Mother?”

What do I say? How can I leave them again? “I’ll need to talk about that with your father.”

“Please, Mother! You must return with us! We all need you so badly. I need you!”

Damn Pegues! He shouldn’t have involved them. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew that I’d see right through it and that it wouldn’t matter one iota that I knew it. He’s a conniving bastard!

“Leeanna, there is a lot to consider. Yes, I want to come home with you and your father …”

“Then just do it, Mother! What else matters?”

“Leeanna, it’s late. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Mrs. LaRouche said that you could use the apartment next to this one and …”

“NO! I don’t want to leave you! Not after we just found you after all this time!”

So much for a little alone time between me and Johnathyn.

“We’ll just be across the hall, Lee. I’ll even leave the doors unlocked. You can come over if …”

“No. Please, Mother.”

He’s right. He is louder as a boy. Johnathyn steps in.

“Perhaps, for tonight, we all sleep in this room,” he suggests.

“Where? On the couch and the chair?”

“No, on the floor. We did it for months in the wagon. We bring in some bedding and it will be just like old times but not so cold.”

I think Johnathyn is worried about being alone with me, what with the roles being reversed. I bet he’s concerned about what I may insist on doing with him. To be honest, it’s been on my mind ever since we found each other in the Park. He is beautiful, in a female super hero kind of way. In the right outfit, he’d be the hit of Comic Con.

I can remember how nervous I was when I first entered that world, how long it took me to accept what I was and how much longer it took for me to embrace it. Johnathyn isn’t ready for that. I’ll give him this one.

“Alright. I’ll go see what I can find and we can make camp out here tonight but neither of you better snore now.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Thank Zaphod Alexia agreed to my suggestion. I have been both anticipating and dreading seeing her since crossing over to this world.

I knew exactly what would happen. Alexia had been quite clear about it when we first met, as had been Pegues, both back then and when he had approached me weeks ago about trying to get Alexia to return. I had been the greatest supporter of the plan. No, Leeanna had been the greatest supporter but I was right in line after her.

I reasoned that I could handle the change. If Pegues could do it, I certainly could also. Alexia had a great deal of difficulty at first but she had been surprised, unprepared. I also knew that it was for a short time, until we found Alexia and persuaded her to return with us or we failed in our quest. I thought for certain that I was both logically and emotionally prepared to become a woman.

The moment I stood up after landing on the ground in this world, I realized how wrong I was. Everything I knew was turned upside down. Leeanna was running around, celebrating the first step of our big plan and I was rooted in place, terrified. If she had not been here, I would have demanded that Pegues return me immediately to my world and proceed without me. I could not face this new, challenging world as a weak woman.

Pegues sensed my reluctance and did what she could to encourage me however; it was Leeanna’s enthusiasm that drove me forward. How could I tell her that her father was unwilling to face what she did every day of her life, that being a woman was intolerable to me? I concentrated on attempting to locate Alexia. Then it occurred to me that should we succeed and find Alexia, she may wish to greet me as a husband does his wife. The thought of doing that to her had greatly brightened my days before crossing over but the realization quickly struck me once completing the journey that I would now be the one receiving and not giving. The thought horrified me yet I still longed to see my wife again. It was all so confusing.

Leeanna was not burdened with my conflicting emotions. She was focused on only one thing, finding her mother. It was all that I and Pegues could do to keep her from spending every moment in that search. He managed to distract her occasionally by showing her the wonders of this world. I must admit that I too was able to forget my fears several times for a few hours when we visited what she called an “Airport” to watch these simply enormous machines take flight or when we traveled under the ground riding the “Subway,” though I attracted a great deal of unwanted attention while riding on that machine. Pegues seemed to enjoy my discomfort, assuring me that my current appearance was pleasing to the eye. I would have chastised him if we were not effectively at his mercy.

This continued for almost two weeks until I was approached by a particularly handsome man while watching Leeanna play with some other children. We had visited this particular spot several times since arriving in New York in an attempt to use up some of Leeanna’s newly found energy, the abundance of which was driving both myself and Pegues to distraction. While normally the attentions of a man would have been cause for me to withdraw or possibly strike out if he was sufficiently persistent, this time, a feeling of calm came over me, of peace, of contentment. It was wholly different than any feeling I had experienced since coming to this world, since Alexia and I had been forced to separate. The joy of discovering each other overwhelmed all other feelings until I found myself alone with Alexia and Leeanna as the end of the day rapidly approached, at which time all the fears of what Alexia might expect me to do came flooding back. I knew that with Leeanna present, nothing serious could happen between us so I proposed that we all sleep together as we did before in our travels. I was ever so thankful when Alexia agreed, though it was clear she was reluctant to do so.

I am momentarily confused when I wake up in the dead of night. I can hear the mechanical hum of a machine called an “Air Conditioner.” Apparently, most buildings in the city have one, though you cannot often see or hear it but you can certainly feel it when you walk into a cold building from a hot stone street outside. Some of the buildings are so cold inside that I get goose bumps in addition to a particularly confusing feeling of firmness of the nipples on my chest. Tonight, I see that Alexia is no longer lying with us but there is a light on in her bedroom. I am curious as to what she is doing up at this time of night and am drawn towards finding out. Carefully rising so as to not wake Leeanna, I quietly sneak over to the partially open door, my path lit by the subdued light reflecting off the walls around me.

As I peek around the door, I see Alexia seated at a small desk, her back towards me, looking at the screen of a kom-pu-ter larger than the one she had in my world. She appears to be reading something. I silently slip into the room, step up behind her and drop my right hand lightly upon her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch in surprise, instead gently taking my hand in hers. She pulls it forward and up to her lips, tenderly kissing the back of my hand, sending chills down my spine.

“These rings really work,” she whispers. “I could feel you enter the room behind me.”

I could see the thin gold chain at the back of her neck. I knew that I was wearing mine; having done so since the day we were separated.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep. Knowing that the beautiful woman who is my heart’s desire was only inches from me yet I could do nothing, I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight so I waited until you were both asleep and then I got up to get some work done.”

Surprisingly, I was not repulsed by Alexia referring to me as a beautiful woman or her heart’s desire. Instead, I felt a small amount of pride.

“I’m sorry … my love. I did not intend to keep you awake.”

“I know,” she chortles. “The shoe’s on the other foot.”

“Neither of us is wearing shoes, Alexia.”

“I know. It’s just a saying. Each of us now understands what the other was feeling. I know how you felt when you looked at me sitting next to you in the wagon when we were traveling to Glory and you know what it’s like to be desired as a woman by a man who knows deep down that you’re a man and aren’t prepared to play the role of a woman now. Or maybe never.”

“Yet we love each other.”

“Well, that didn’t come until later for us.”

“Not for me. I think I loved you almost immediately.”

“You wanted to fuck me almost immediately. Love came later. I know the difference now. So do you.”

“Did you …” I am hesitant to ask.

“Oh yeah! Absolutely. You had that cool, calm goddess thing going for you, standing apart from all the other parents. You know, there hasn’t been anybody else since I came back to this universe”

I could feel the truth in her voice. “Nor I. It did not feel right.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

I lean down to look over her shoulder, my left cheek brushing against the side of her head. “Have you discovered anything?”

“I don’t know if you inspired me or what but I’ve got it all, everything I need to bring down the Consortium and the Winthrop Group. It’s all here.”

“Alexia! You did it! Well done!”

“I haven’t done anything yet. We need to talk about that. Have a seat.”

She points at her bed. I sit down on the edge as she turns her chair to face me. I notice her staring intently at my naked thighs. I had borrowed a shirt to wear as night clothes but it was shorter than I liked. I tug at the hem but it does not cover much. She notices my efforts at modesty and turns her eyes towards mine.

“Sorry,” she says. “Force of habit. Are things really as bad at home as Pegues says?”

“I am afraid so. Our worst fears have come true. It was a noble effort but we all failed your vision.”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I should have known better. An individual person can be great but people, as a group, tend to be stupid, ignorant, short sighted and selfish.”

“Is not that too harsh?”

“Not really. It takes leadership to keep people moving forward. I should have been the one to do that.”

“But there were risks if you stayed. We all agreed.”

“There were also risks if I left. Look what happened. It was also easier for me to leave.”

“What do you mean?”

She reaches out, taking my hands in hers. “I’m going to admit something to you, something you may have a better understanding of now. I was afraid to stay. Afraid of taking responsibility for an entire world. I was also afraid of spending the rest of my life as a woman. I mean, I’m a man. Until I jumped over to your world, it never entered my mind to be anything but a man. And then I met you and Leeanna and, suddenly there were choices to be made, choices that affected other people. I know what I wanted but they were conflicting things. I wasn’t certain about my own capabilities. I ended up choosing the known over the unknown. Yes, I still had a job to do here. People to punish, but that was a convenient excuse. I couldn’t even admit this to myself until now. Do you understand what I’m talking about, Johnathyn?”

I did. The fear of losing what you are. I did not understand what Alexia was experiencing in my world until I came to hers. It is frightening.

“I do understand about possibly losing yourself. I feel it myself right now.”

“I thought you might. Hard to avoid under the circumstances. Lee seems immune.”

“It’s all just a big adventure to her, though she does want you back.”

“And I want her back. And you, my love.”

“You have decided?!”

“Yes, we’re going home. What we need to discuss is what kind of home that’s going to be.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“What now, White?”

The police evidence storage had just confirmed that there were no DNA samples from either Terry or Jackie Thompson. None were ever taken. Their identities weren’t in question so samples of their DNA were unnecessary. Very unfortunate. Ridgeway seems to be enjoying my frustration, however the front steps of police headquarters in New York City is a bad place for a confrontation on that point.

“If the police can’t help us, Captain, we’ll need to go directly to the source.”

“And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

“Frankly, I’m unsure. An exhumation would take time and money, plus involve lawyers.”

“Never a good thing.”

“No, I agree. They just gum up the works. We could try to bribe someone at the cemetery to do it on the QT but that too would take time to find the right person and should we ask the wrong person, we could find ourselves facing some very uncomfortable questions.”

“We don’t actually need the bodies, just samples from the bodies and not much of a sample either, right?”

“I think your correct, Captain. Do you have something in mind?”

“Maybe, it depends on the layout of the cemetery. There were a few Civil Engineering classes mixed in with my Mechanical Engineering class load. I also spent a couple of summers on a highway construction crew in Pennsylvania. We ‘girls’ weren’t supposed to do much more than traffic control but the supervisor was a little more broadminded than most so I got to see and do a lot of jobs.”

“You mean like operating a backhoe?”

“No. Taking soil samples. Drilling into the ground soil samples.”

“What are you suggesting, Captain?”

“If I can get my hands on the right equipment, we can drill straight down into the caskets from above and get what we need in a matter of minutes with no one being the wiser.”

“Where can we get that equipment?”

“If we’re lucky, I can rent it, if not, you’ll have to buy it. Either way, it’ll be a lot easier than digging up a couple of graves.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Mistress LaRouche had allowed me to use one of her empty apartments for the night. I thought that Leeanna was going to use the second apartment and Alex and Johanna were going to share his apartment but those plans changed. I assume Alex was frustrated by that change. When I knock on his door, Leeanna answers it almost immediately.

“Good morning, Mirantha,” she exclaims brightly.

“Good morning, Lee. Are your parents awake?”

“Yes. Mother is preparing breakfast. Please come in.”

I enter and cross the room towards the kitchen. There is a pile of bedding folded and neatly stacked on the chair in the living room. Alex has his back to me while cooking on the stove. Johnathyn is slumped forward in her chair, elbows resting on the table while she cradles a large cup of coffee in her hands, occasionally sipping from it. Coffee is one of the creations of this world that I introduced her to. She looks as if she did not get much sleep last night. Perhaps Alex was more successful than I thought.

“Good morning, Johnathyn. Alex. Did you all sleep well?”

“Well enough, Pegues,” Johnathyn grumbles.

“Pour yourself a cup of Joe, Mirantha, and grab a seat,” adds Alex. “How do you like your eggs?”

I do so and take a quick drink from my steaming cup. “Absent. The ‘Joe,’ as you call it, will be enough.”

“Suit yourself. We’ve got a lot to get done in the next few days. We may be looking at fast food meals until we leave.”

“Can I have ‘McRibs’?” Lee begs.

“We’ll see,” says Alex. “You’ll need some vegetables too.”

“A potato is a vegetable, mother.”

“Fries are not a vegetable, Lee. Eat your eggs and drink some orange juice.”

He casually mentioned leaving. Has he made his decision? Do I want to know it?

“Uhhhh Alex. Very good coffee, by the way.”

“Thanks. High praise from the Master.”

“Yes … You said something about leaving?”

“Yep, I did. We’re all going home. At least most of us are. You were right, Pegues. I broke it so I bought it. I’m going home to fix it as soon as I take care of a few people here first and that should only require a day or so.”

“We need to discuss what you will do when you return to my world.”

“You mean my world, Pegues. Johnathyn and I have already discussed it. We’ve got a plan. It should work.”

“As well as your last plan?”

“You’ve got every right to criticize me, Pegues, but if there’s one thing that can be said about me, it’s that I learn from my mistakes.”

“Then you must be a very learned man by now.”

“I am. Did you know that the country where we are standing right now is governed by a constitution?”

“Yes, I am vaguely aware of that.”

“Most of the people in this country revere the men who drafted that constitution. They are called the Founding Fathers and treated as if they were darn near infallible.”

“What is your point, Alex?”

“My point is that these very same men, or at least most of them, were involved in the creation of something called ‘The Articles of Confederation’ which is how the country was run before the Constitution was drafted. It was a disaster. These learned, infallible men screwed it up big time the first attempt they made to create a governing system. They learned from their mistakes and created a better system the second time around. It wasn’t perfect either. They totally punted on slavery and that came round to eventually bite the country in the ass. Maybe it was inevitable. Either way, no one’s perfect, Pegues. My world demands a dominant Queen, it’s gonna get a dominant Queen. The Queen I should have been from day one. Some tried to tell me that but I wouldn’t listen. I’ll listen this time but it will eventually be my decision and mine alone.”

“If you wish to listen and learn, then listen to me now, Alex.”

“I’ll listen, Pegues. So will you because I’ve got a job in mind that you are uniquely qualified for.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!” the guy screams.

I saw him approaching from yards away. I pointed him out to Ridgeway. She nodded her head in acknowledgement but kept drilling. We weren’t lucky about renting the equipment she needed and ended up driving halfway across New Jersey before finding the portable backpack drill and accessories needed to do the job. It was designed for boring through rocks so the ground of the cemetery was very easy to deal with. We had dressed in workmen’s coveralls and started early in the morning and had almost reached our target when the maintenance man caught up with us.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING WITH THAT THING?” he shouts over the din of the gasoline motor, getting up in Ridgeway’s face. She casually stops drilling, killing the engine and deliberately removes her foam earplugs.

“We’re taking lower strata stability samples.”

“Why in God’s name are you doing that?!” he demands.

Ridgeway jerks her thumb towards the road that borders the back edge of the cemetery. There’s a wrought iron fence between the road and the last line of graves, the line that contains the final resting places of Terry and Jackie Thompson.

“The city’s looking to build a new sewer line along the utility easement that runs with that road over there.”

“You can’t put a sewer in here, it’s a cemetery!”

“We know that! We’re not idiots! The sewer’s gonna be on the outside but they’ll have to dig close to the property line. We’re taking core samples to check the lateral stability of various strata to make sure the adjoining property doesn’t collapse into the dig. If there’s insufficient lateral stability, we may need to add bracing to the bid requirements which will make the project more expensive. We’re just following those flags the Chief City Surveyor’s office put out late yesterday.”

Ridgeway points to a series of little yellow plastic flags running along the fence line that we had planted late last night by reaching through the fence. Ridgeway said at the time that the flags would add an air of authority to our operation. We just had to make certain each grave was marked with a flag. Our inquisitor looked at the flags and scratched his head.

“I didn’t see no surveyors out there yesterday.”

“You probably missed them. They don’t use all the surveying equipment for a job like this. A couple of guys and a GPS receiver is all you need now. The big stuff shows up later if they decide to use this route.”

“But those two flags are smack dab in the middle of those graves,” he says, pointing directly at our targets.

“Yeah, I saw that. City Surveyors don’t give a damn where they put those flags. Don’t worry, man. We can work around them when we get there. No problem. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

The man looks relieved. “That’s great. We got a funeral coming in less than an hour.”

Ridgeway makes a show of counting the remaining flags. “We’ll step on it and be done by then. That okay with you?”

“That’d be fucking great!” he says, smiling broadly. Ridgeway fires up the drill, waves at the guy and returns to work with vigor. I give him a little wave as he hurries away, covering his ears.

When we reach the graves, both of us check things out to be certain we aren’t being watched too closely. Ridgeway quickly attaches a 4 foot hollow drill shaft to the gasoline engine powered drill head. The diamond drill was already threaded onto the shaft. I help her set the drill head upright and held the shaft steady with heavily gloved hands as she pulls the starter cord and the engine caught, revving up rapidly. Ridgeway set her feet apart to get a stable base and pushes the drill bit into the soft ground. The shaft plunges down easily. She stops with about a foot remaining above the ground, disconnects the drill head and adds another 4 foot section of shaft to the end sticking out of the ground. After reattaching the drill head and restarting the engine, she continues drilling but more carefully than before. After another two feet, she stops, letting the engine fall back to idle speed.

“I think we’re there,” she says.

“Great! Let’s do this and get the hell out of here.”

“I need to be careful. If, I’m right, once I penetrate the top of the casket, there’ll be a void. The whole damn drill head will drop and probably punch the bit right through the body without getting a sample. This has to be done nice and easy.”

“Whatever,” I say, feeling more exposed than before. “Do it.”

She nods her head and throttles back up. In seconds, the drill head falls a few inches but she catches it, holding the weight of the entire drilling rig in her hands.

“We’re in,” she grunts.

“Hurry up!”

She gives me a strained, annoyed look. “Do you want to do this, White?”

“No, just finish it.”

“What else would I do?” she groans as she re-grips the drill head then slowly allows it to inch downward until she pauses again. “That should be it, I think.”

“That’s all there is to it?”

“It’s a diamond head drill and he’s been dead for almost a year. There’s not going to be a hell of a lot of resistance. Once I’ve punched through the bottom and gone down another foot or so, we can pull the bit up.”

“We’ve got what we need; why not pull it up now?”

“Because whatever is in the core may not stay there. If I put a dirt cap on it, the sample’s locked in.”

“Fine, you seem to know what you’re doing. Finish it and we can leave.”

She accelerates the engine, continuing to drill.

“We’ll have to finish the other holes after getting our samples,” she shouts over the roar.

“Why would we do that?!” I demand, exasperated at the delay.

“We used the flags so we’d have a believable story when we were challenged. No one was going to miss the sound of this drill. If we quit early, someone may start asking questions.” Ridgeway stops the drill, killing the engine. She disconnects the shaft and begins to pull it out of the ground. “Get that clear plastic sample tube ready.” After the first section of the drill shaft is out of the ground, she unscrews it from the second, setting it aside. The second section is yanked out and she takes off the drill head with a large wrench. Grabbing the clear plastic sample tube from my hand, she threads it onto the drill shaft where the drill head was and then pushes a long handled plunger into the back of the drill shaft, forcing the core of dirt out of the shaft and into the sample tube. Once full, Ridgeway removes the tube, caps it and hands it to me, pointing to a thin, dark layer sandwiched between two sections of light brown dirt. “That is Terry Thompson.”

“Are you certain?”

“I’d stake my reputation on it.”

“We’re staking our lives on it.”

“Then I better be right. Take that first shaft and put it back in the hole but don’t drop it.”

I reach for the discarded drill shaft. “Why?”

She begins to reassemble the drilling rig. “We want to eject the extra dirt back into the hole, just in case someone comes looking. That hole is only one inch in diameter. Put the dirt back, fluff up the grass a bit and wait a couple of weeks and you’d never know we were here.” She hands me the plunger.

“You want me to do it?”

She smiles at me as she positions the drill rig in the middle of Jackie Thompson’s grave.

“You’re the one who was in such a big hurry. Drop that core in the sample bag with the rest. Label it before you do. We don’t want to mix these with the others.”

Does she take me for a fool?

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

It’s in the hands of the private lab now. I didn’t want to wait for the Consortium’s lab to do the work. The way they treat me is abominable! Besides, what’s another hit on an impressively overspent expense account?

We were assured that Ridgeway’s samples did indeed contain biological matter. They, along with the DNA samples I had retrieved from Mastiff’s discarded magic props, were large enough to provide sufficient material to determine if all three were related. Unfortunately, results would not be available for 24 hours. There is a meeting of the Board of Directors scheduled for tomorrow in the early afternoon. If the results confirm what I suspect, I should be able to get the information to Stewart Hinkle in time to get added to the agenda.

As it is, we’ve now got time to kill, which is how we find ourselves standing with an impressive sized crowd waiting for Lance Mastiff to begin his lunch time show. The publicity he got from the video shot by that news crew has certainly increased attendance. There must be close to 800 people here. I recognize some of the regulars near his tables but there are many new faces.

“Why are we here, White?” Ridgeway inquires.

“I want to keep an eye on Mastiff until we’re ready. If we had your people involved, he’d be under 24 hour surveillance but you and I can’t do that. We’ll just have to take our chances until we can convince our respective employers that he’s a threat. At least we know where he’s going to be for the next hour or so.”

“He can’t do a whole hell of a lot with all these people watching him. Damn! Think of the money he’s been making doing this act five times a week. Works five hours a week, free to do what he pleases the rest of the time.”

“The question is, what does please him? Quiet, he’s starting.”

I need to give him credit, he has certainly gotten better performing the standard magic tricks over the past months. He’s added little tweaks that make them seem like his own invention. He also mixes up the sequence so that you’re never certain what happens next, always a good way to keep the act fresh.

One thing that has definitely happened is he has reduced the number of classic tricks and increased the number of unexplainable tricks. My father’s old comrades would be having heart attacks right now if they could see it. Most of the crowd is impressed but it takes a true professional to understand the absolute impossibility of what he does with those store bought Coke cans, or the interlocking ring set. Every time I see his act, it still amazes me.

Mastiff’s approaching the end of his time but is still firing off one trick after another, the crowd showering him with applause.

He waives them silent, then speaks. “I’ve been told recently by a long term fan that my beard makes me look evil.” He grins manically. “Is that true?”

There’s a chorus of boos mixed with cheers. It’s impossible to know what the crowd wants but it doesn’t matter, Mastiff has already decided.

‘I know, it’s ridiculous, but I promised the sweet young thing that I’d consider working sans facial hair so I’ve decided today is the day.”

He reaches into the pocket of his suit coat and produces a can of shaving cream and a straight razor, which he flips open to the gasps of the audience. It takes my breath away a little bit. The razor is bright, shiny chrome and at least seven inches long! He holds up a section of newspaper and quickly reduces it to ribbons with a few flicks of his wrist. He places the razor on the table next to him, picks up a small, white terry cloth towel, draping around the back of his neck and over his shoulders, and then begins to lather his face.

“What is he doing?” Ridgeway mumbles.

“I have no idea, Captain. If he cuts off his beard and moustache, it’s a one shot trick until he grows it back, which will be weeks.”

“Seems like the waste of a perfectly nice looking beard.” she sighs.

I glance over at her. “Don’t go soft on me, Captain. You know who and what he is.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m just saying.”

I return my attention back to Mastiff, who has just finished wiping his hands on the towel around his neck. He picks up the razor, bring it close to his right cheek. He pauses, razor poised to scrape the cheek.

“Last chance!” he proclaims. The response is the same mix of cheers and boos.

“Very well!” He releases the razor, his right hand falling to his side, but the razor doesn’t fall, it stays lightly pressed against his cheek. After a moment, it starts to slowly slide down, scraping away the shaving cream, leaving bare skin behind. How in God’s name is he doing this?! It isn’t just simple levitation, which is impossible in its own right because he’s in the open air with nothing above him. Somehow, the razor is actually applying pressure and is stable enough to maintain the correct angle. After several more passes, the blade lifts from his face and wipes the excess shaving cream off the blade onto his towel. The razor returns to work as if controlled by an invisible hand. All this time, Mastiff does nothing but make faces, stretching his cheeks or raising his chin to give the razor more room to operate.

In less than three minutes, he is clean shaven, the razor closing itself, landing softly on the table next to him as he wipes his face clean with the towel, dropping it on top of the razor to the resounding applause of the crowd. He bows deeply several times before raising his hands to silence his audience.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you very much! I have one last bit of magic to perform, something no one has ever done before! To accomplish this impossible feat, I require the assistance of twelve volunteers.”

Hundreds of hands instantly shoot skyward, their owners jumping and in place shouting to be chosen, Mastiff eventually waives them quiet.

“I am clearly blessed with so many willing helpers but, as this is my last act, I will call upon some of my loyal audience members who have followed me from my humble beginnings.” He points at Debbie Jennings. “Debbie, will you indulge me this one last time?” She rapidly steps forward, smiling. He also calls for her two friends, Shelby and Janice, who quickly join her. By the time he’s done, he’s got ten young women standing in a line behind him, nervously shifting from side to side.

“All right, ladies. If you would please form a circle around me and join hands.”

He leads them away from his table, toward the sidewalk, creating some space for them to circle him, the crowd shifting as they move. Once he has them all positioned, they each grab their neighbor’s hand, encircling him, all facing inwards. He slowly turns around, inspecting the circle, a frown upon his face, shaking his head side to side.

“No. No. This won’t do. It’s not quite right, we need two more. How about you, Ms. White and Captain Ridgeway?”

“How the fuck does he even know we’re here?” Ridgeway whispers.

“It’s magic, Captain. Neither of us can explain it.”

We both don’t move, not giving away our position while the rest of the audience looks around, expecting to see two people moving his way. Instead, he steps towards us, extending his hand while remaining within his circle of women.

“Come now, Donna. For old time’s sake.”

“What do we do?” Ridgeway asks me.

He knows we’re here so what’s the harm of getting a close up view of this new trick? I grab Ridgeway’s forearm and begin to push our way through the crowd, dragging her with me. There’s some polite applause as we get closer to the group. He parts the circle for us to enter.

“Very Good! Just what I needed! How appropriate.” He takes Ridgeway gently by her shoulders. “Let’s put you over here, Captain,” he says, guiding her to a spot on the other side of the circle, where she dutifully takes the hand of either woman besides her. Mastiff comes back to me.

“Would you be so kind as to take this spot, Ms. White?”

I slide closer to him.

“I know who you are, Alex.” I say quietly but firmly, trying to sound brave and confident. “I know what you want and I’m going to stop you.”

“All by yourself, Donna? I don’t think so.”

“There are a lot more people out there than just me, Alex. You’re not so powerful over here. We can stop you.”

He bends his head down so that he is speaking into my left ear.

“Remember what I told First Minister Dupree when he threatened to capture me?” he whispers

“Yes,” I whisper in reply.

“What was it?”

“Come and get me.”

“Exactly. I also said I’d decapitate the first man through the door.”

“And the second. And the third.”

“And so on. That offer still stands, Ms. White. Feel free to accept it whenever you like. Unless you’re planning on doing it right now, I’d like you to stand over here opposite of Captain Ridgeway. You’ve both got one of the best seats in the house.”

Thompson steps back, a jovial, lopsided grin on his face, waiting for me to move. I’d love to tell him to drop dead but I’m also curious as to what he’s going to do. He’s likely going to do it whether or not I play along so I might as well play along. If he was going to kill me, he could have done it by now. I turn and join the circle.

“Wonderful!” he declares as he walks around inside the circle. “Everyone is in place and all’s right with the world. Pay attention, folks. You’re not going to see anything like this ever again. Would someone hand me that sledge hammer?”

A hand reaches through the circle between Jennings and whoever is next to her, holding what looks like a 20 pound sledge hammer. Thompson takes it from them and tosses it in the air, the handle rapidly revolving around the head. He catches it and presents it to Ridgeway for her inspection.

“Is this a real sledgehammer, Captain Ridgeway?” he asks politely.

She releases the hands of the two women on either side of her, takes the hammer and hefts it, then drops it on the sidewalk at her feet, head first. We can all hear and feel the thud.

“Yes, it’s real, Mr. Mastiff.”

He grabs it by its handle, twirling it in the air and dipping his head towards Ridgeway.

“Thank you for your help, Captain. You can return to the circle.”

She does so, scowling at him as she goes. She doesn’t like being a part of the show any more than I do but she recognizes the advantage for at least one of us to remain close to the action. He walks around the circle for a moment, hammer in hand then he stops, swings it up high over his head and brings it down, slamming into the concrete side walk with a solid thud. He walks a few more steps and does it again, then a third and a fourth time, each resulting in the same, solid thump, though he does powder some of the concrete surface of the sidewalk. He stops, standing upright, the head of the hammer resting on the ground, handle pointing up. He wipes his brow theatrically with the back of his left hand.

“My, this is hotter work than I thought. Excuse me.”

He releases the handle but it stays upright. He whips off his black suit coat, tossing it aside, and begins to unbutton his matching black shirt, slowly and deliberately, one button at a time. The interest level of almost every woman in the circle just skyrocketed. As he leisurely works his way down the front of his shirt, his broad, muscled chest is gradually revealed, as are impressive six pack abs. Once the last button is undone, he casually shrugs off the shirt, dropping it on top of the suit coat.

Returning to the hammer, he easily picks it up, twirling it again. This time, everyone can see the progression of each act in the bulging muscles of his arms, shoulders and back. He again repeatedly slams the hammer into the concrete as he walks around the circle, gradually moving towards the middle as he follows a spiral path. No one has any idea what he’s up to but it’s easy to see that the young women in the circle and those outside are enjoying the show. He stops again with another wipe of the brow.

“This really is much more work than I anticipated. Guess I should have practiced more. Excuse me again.”

He reaches for the belt around the waist of his black trousers as he kicks off his right then left shoes, also black. He’s not wearing any socks. This time, there is little teasing. Thompson quickly unbuckles the belt, unzips the pants and pauses just long enough for everyone to catch their breaths before dropping his pants to the ground, revealing a pair of almost tight, black, silk boxer shorts. Most of the woman gasp or sigh or both as he steps out of the pants bunched around his ankles, bends down to pick both the pants and the shoes up, adding them to the pile of clothes.

Once again, the sledge hammer is grabbed, twirled and smashed against the sidewalk, Thompson picking up where he left off. You can smell the lust in the air. There isn’t a single woman who has been watching his show who wouldn’t tear those boxers off him and ravage Thompson right here and now. I wouldn’t, of course, and neither would Ridgeway, though, looking at the barely concealed hunger in her eyes, I could be wrong about that. Both of us know what’s hidden behind those black boxers but from the way they move, everyone has a pretty good idea that he’s packing king size or better.

He finally reaches the middle of the circle, having thoroughly gone over the entire area. He now stands in the middle of the circle, sledge hammer resting lightly on his right shoulder, left hand on his hip, legs spread slightly as he slowly turns, his body glistening from the sweat generated by the work with the hammer. His big hammer. Anybody can see how big a hammer it is.

“I’d say that we are standing on one solid piece of concrete, wouldn’t you?” he says with a broad smile.

None of the woman say anything, they just nod their head in agreement, unable to take their eyes off the glory that is the body of Alex Thompson.

He approaches Debbie Jennings and extends his hand. She leans towards him. If she wasn’t supported by the women on either side of her, she’d fall flat on her face at his feet.

“Bag please,” he requests.

A hand holding a standard brown paper grocery bag penetrates the circle next to Jennings. Thompson slides right up to her but doesn’t make any contact as he reaches for the bag. The man had to be a male stripper in a prior life. Once he grabs the bag, he moves away, back to the center of the circle as Jennings is pulled back to where she started. He places the bag on the ground and pulls a large amount of black fabric from it. Wielding it above his head, he swirls it around and around, first in circles then a figure eight, the fabric trailing behind until he tosses it into the air where it blossoms out and slowly parachutes down around Thompson, his arms raised. As the fabric settles down to the ground, it becomes clear that it is some kind of robe like a monk might wear, all one piece with baggy sleeves and a hood. Thompson’s hands and head emerge from the openings in the robe. There’s some polite applause for how he handled the robe. He bows slightly.

“Thank you but you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

The robe reaches all the way to the ground, in fact a little longer than that so the edge of the cloth drags behind him as he walks back to the paper bag. He squats down, packing his other clothes in the now empty bag, then taking the bag and the hammer and setting them in front of me.

“What are you up to?” I demand.

“Watch,” is all he says, returning to the center of the circle.

He slowly turns in place one time, a full 360 degrees, then slaps his forehead with his right hand, smiling.

“I almost forgot.”

The hands disappear back inside the robe for a moment then reappear, the right one holding his black boxers. More gasps and sighs from the crowd. He flips them towards me. The two women on either side of me try to reach out and grab them but neither lets go of my hands so it looks as if I am the one dragging their hands forward instead of it being the other way around. The boxers fly directly into the mouth of the paper bag at my feet and Thompson gives me a salacious wink. The crowd laughs as I blush in embarrassment. Even Ridgeway laughs. Thompson returns to his place in the middle of the circle.

“Remember this!” he declares loudly so that everyone can hear him. “I stand on a solid concrete sidewalk! I am surrounded by twelve lovely assistants who are holding hands, who are surrounded on all sides by you, the audience! There is nothing above me but the open sky! I cannot possibly escape unnoticed! I tell you now … that this is my last show and you will NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!”

There are hundreds of screams of anguish as the robe falls into a heap where Thompson once stood. I am so stunned that it takes me several seconds to gather my wits. Apparently, the others were equally stunned because the twelve members of the ring all charge towards the middle at once, reaching and grabbing at the robe as one. There is a momentary tussle before Ridgeway tears it from everyone’s hands, revealing a dozen roses laying on the sidewalk with a note attached. Jennings is closest to the note, she bends down and picks it up with trembling hands. The crowd falls silent as she opens it.

“To my twelve lovely assistants,” she reads. “Please take one rose apiece as a token of my deep appreciation and respect. With love. Lance Mastiff.” She is crying by the time she reaches the end of the note. Her friend Shelby was holding her shaking shoulders as her other friend carefully picks up the roses and begins handing them out to the twelve members of the circle. When she comes to me, I hesitate.

“Take it,” says Ridgeway, already holding her rose. “We may be able to find out something from them.”

I accept the rose but hand it to Ridgeway. “Hold this. I want to check something.” I hurry over to where Thompson left the sledge hammer and pick it up. Damn! It’s heavier than it looks. For Thompson to have tossed it around so lightly … I struggle back through the departing crowd and drop the hammer on the sidewalk were Thompson stood. The same solid thud as before. I try several other spots before tiring of lifting the hammer. I stop, breathing heavily. Ridgeway gives me back my rose.

“Pretty slick on his part,” she says. “All that stuff with the hammer. He wanted to make sure no one could say there was a trap door or anything.”

“There has to be some kind of …”

“There isn’t, White. He had all the bases covered. We both know exactly what it was. Magic, pure and simple.”

“Well, at least we know he’s Alex Thompson.”

“What’d he tell you before he tossed you his undies?”

“Shut up! He told me what he said in my office on the other side. Word for word.”

“Maybe Thompson told him that.”

“Just like the magic, we both know that Mastiff is Thompson. The DNA tests will just confirm it. We need to start getting ready right now…”

Suddenly, I see an older lady picking up Thompson’s magic equipment and packing it away.

“YOU!” I shout. “Hold it right there!”

She ignores me so both Ridgeway and I run over to where she is.

“Who are you and what are you doing?!” I demand.

She stops, giving us a steady, confident look.

“Who I am and what I’m doing is my business and none of yours.” She jerks her head to the left. “Move along” she adds, returning to packing Thompson’s equipment

“My business is what I make my business. Where has Alex Thompson gone?”

She doesn’t look up, just keeps on working but she does respond.

“Not that it matters but I don’t know that name.”

“He’s the man who owns all this equipment. And I want it. All of it.”

“The man who owns this equipment is Lance Mastiff, my tenant.”

“So where is Lance Mastiff?”

“No idea. He asked me to put his property in storage until his return as a favor. He was a good tenant so I agreed. Now, if you’re done with your intrusive questions, I’ll finish here and be on my way.”

“Not so fast,” says Ridgeway. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“By what authority do you question me? I don’t answer to you.”

“Well maybe we’ll take all this stuff,” I say.

She bristles at my threat. “You have no right!”

I lean forward. Both Ridgeway and I are younger and taller. We’d have no trouble just grabbing Thompson’s paraphernalia and leaving with it. She might succumb to a little intimidation. Ridgeway and I are standing next to each other just a few feet away from the old woman.

“You couldn’t stop us from taking all this and the police wouldn’t help you because it’s not yours. If you don’t want trouble, just walk away. Now!”

I’m preparing to raise my arm and grab her when a very heavy hand lands on my left shoulder. I look back. And up. A tall, blonde woman is standing behind and between Ridgeway and me, her hands gripping both of our shoulders in an increasingly painful way.

“Is there trouble, Mistress LaRouche?” she asks.

“Not now,” the old woman answers.

The tall woman is blonde and at least 6 foot 3. I glance down and see she’s wearing flat soled running shoes, so she’s a legit 6 foot 3. Her grip on my shoulder is beginning to cut off the blood flow into my arm. I try to twist away but she keeps hold, dragging me back. Ridgeway tries the same move but is more aggressive but she fares no better than I do.

“Release them, Johanna,” the old woman commands.

She lets go of my shoulder with a slight forward shove. I get my balance and spin around to confront her. She’s tall, broad in the shoulders and chest, looks to be in fantastic shape and holds the sledge hammer in one hand, twirling it like a baton twirler. She crosses between Ridgeway and me, dropping the hammer into a large, partially full, duffle bag, which she closes, locks and casually hefts onto her left shoulder, like it weighs practically nothing. The old woman finishes packing up and folds the tables. The blonde giant takes a table in each hand, The old lady turns to address us.

“My friend and I are done here. I strongly suggest that you not bother us because my friend is somewhat protective of me.”

With that, they turn and march off into Central Park, leaving us standing alone where, but a few minutes ago, was filled to capacity and beyond.

“Nice try, White,” says Ridgeway.

“You could have taken her.”

“Like hell! Did you see how she handled that hammer? She could have smashed our heads like ripe pumpkins. Besides, don’t we already know where Mastiff was staying? If we need that stuff, we can send a team. Maybe two.”

“Maybe three. Right now, we need to get organized. Thompson has disappeared but you can be damn sure he isn’t gone. He didn’t go to all this trouble to simply cut and run. He’ll be back and we need to be ready.”

“Ready for what, exactly?”

“How the hell should I know?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

That last trick damn nearly killed me.

As time went on, my magic act also became a balancing act. The more I did real magic tricks, the more magic power it took to do those tricks, weakening me. But those were the tricks that made believers out of non-believers, which made me stronger. It was always a question when I started to perform whether or not there was going to be enough magic available to finish that day.

At the end of each show, I was tired and tapped out but I was doing so much more than I was when I started. This time, though, I really pushed the envelope. Making the sidewalk beneath me disappear was tough enough after a complete show but then dropping naked into the sewer was taking a big risk. It’s still summer so there was little water in there but that kind of drop could still kill a man, particularly if I slipped up and let the concrete return before I was completely clear of the hole Now it’s just a matter of following the marks I left behind when scouting this section and find the manhole where Johnathyn is waiting with a change of clothes.

I can feel the increase in the level of belief already as I begin to recharge. I just hope it’s enough to do the job. Posting the video of today’s performance on YouTube should help some. We’ll know by the end of tomorrow if it’s all been worthwhile.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

I am certain this is where we are to meet Alexia but he has not arrived yet. This world is full of wonders but also full of confusion. I cannot think of Alex as anything but Alexia but he is clearly a man named Alex in this world. I have to force myself to say “he” instead of “she.” It is the same with Leeanna.

It is the exact opposite for myself. Despite what I see in the mirror every day or my reflection in the large sheets of glass that are found wherever you look in this world, I cannot bring myself to think of myself as a woman. I am just temporarily not a man. That is the best that I can do. I have no idea how Alexia was able to do what she did when she came to my world. Every second here is an irritation to me, one that could eventually drive me mad except that I know it is just temporary. I can tolerate most anything as long as I know it will eventually come to an end. My mother always said that if I had been born a girl, she would have had to name me Patience.

Certainly not Johanna. How Pegues creates these names is beyond me. I can’t even answer to that name; it is so foreign to me. Yet Pegues seems to easily slip back and forth. Miran to Mirantha and back to Miran, as simple and easy as a change of clothes.

Clothes! I quickly reach down and touch the bag that holds Alexia’s change of clothes, assuring myself that it is still here and that we are ready for her when he arrives. There I go again! By Zaphod’s great staff, this is madness!

Leeanna still seems mostly unaffected, though she too is confused at times. Calling a man “Mother” and a woman “Father” can do that to you. No matter what trouble awaits us, I will feel much better when we all return home.

The prospect of Alexia coming home to be my wife fills me with as much joy as remaining here and Alex being my husband fills me with dread. I know it is unfair of me, I can see the desire in Alex’s eyes but I simply do not share it, even though I know that they are one and the same person and that to love Alexia is to love Alex but I cannot make that leap. That Alex does not push me only makes me love her more, yet I cannot bring myself to show him this affection.

As I said. Madness. Absolute madness.

Mistress LaRouche is sitting with me on the bench near what they call a manhole. She glances at her watch, trying not to make a show of it as to not worry me. She need not bother because I am past “worried” and have moved on to “concerned.”

“How late is he?” I ask.

“Not very,” she lied. “Not much more than … twenty decicycles is it? I know you explained all about that but I still haven’t grasped the actual conversion factor. Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon.”

I lie also. “I’m not worried.”

“Let’s talk about something else. I was glad to have you with me today at the end of the show.”

“It was my pleasure. You would have had a difficult time carrying all those things here by yourself.”

“No, Johnathyn. I was referring to the trouble caused by those two women, Ridgeway and White. Without your help, they may have tried to take everything.”

“You are a witch, Mistress. I am certain you could have dealt with them yourself.”

“You overestimate what a witch in this world can accomplish. If there was to be a fight, I’d prefer to have someone with a big stick on my side.”

“I had no stick, Mistress.”

“You had that sledge hammer.”

“That weighed barely one stone. On my world, I could wield a hammer weighing almost three stone. I curse my weakness daily.”

She laughs. “Well, I was glad that you had my back.”

“Happy to do what I can, Mistress. I am confused on one point. Do you not feel more powerful in Alexia’s presence? On our world, the more witches that gathered together, the more magic power there was to share. If Alexia was among them, all the other witches could certainly tell the difference.”

She ponders my question for a moment.

“I had never thought about it before. You need to remember that the power Alexia had in your world is not the power Alex has in this world but, now that you mention it, lately, I have been feeling better, more energized. That could be why. My customers are reporting better results with my potions. I assumed it was me but it could also be Alex. That’s unfortunate. I’d hate to lose that when he leaves.”

“Perhaps you and some other witches could join forces and exploit what he has already accomplished. Build upon it.”

“That is an excellent idea, Johnathyn! I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about that myself!”

“He’s always given me great advice,” says Alex, faintly.

We both jump up, moving quickly to the manhole.

“Is that you, Alexia?” I shout.

“No, it’s a giant talking rat. Yes it’s me. Help me lift this thing up and give me my clothes.”

Mistress LaRouche returns to the bench for the bag holding Alex’s clothes while I kneel down and work my fingers into the small holes of the thick metal lid. With Alex pushing up from below and me lifting from above, we soon have the lid shoved aside. When I look down the hole, I see that he’s climbed up using some iron rungs imbedded in the smooth stone that lines the hole. He looks up at me, smiling brightly and winks.

“Sorry I’m late. Miss me?”

“Do you mean was I worried? Yes, we both were. Why were you detained?”

“I was barefoot. There are a lot of things in a sewer you don’t want to step on without something on your feet.”

“Doing this unclothed was your idea. I would think that you should have thought about that problem.”

“I told you, for the bit to work, I needed to be wearing the robe. I had to have something cover up the fact that I was dropping down through the sidewalk. If I were wearing my clothes, I didn’t need the robe. Besides, without the clothes, there wasn’t anything to snag on the edge of the sidewalk when I dropped.”

“I did not like the way those women were looking at you.”

“Aaawww, jealous. That’s cute. Just hand me my bag and we can discuss this later.”

Just then, Mistress LaRouche returns with the bag. She kneels down opposite me and extends the hand that holds the bag down into the hole.

“Here you go, Alex.”

He takes the bag from her hand. “Thank’s Janet. I’ll change and be with you in a jiff.” He places the handles of the bag in his mouth and climbs back down the side of the hole about 3 decileagues before reaching the ground. Removing the bag from his teeth, he bends down to remove something from the bag. As he stands up, I see that it is an undergarment. Alex steps forward so that he is standing in a shaft of light so that he can see what he is doing. As can I. As can Mistress LaRouche.

“OH MY!” she gasps, looking briefly away but then returns her gaze to the shaft. After Alex pulls the under garment up his legs and around his waist, she turns her head and looks at me.

“Did you know that Alex had …”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Have you and he …”

“Not since I came to this world.”

“So, since you became a woman, you and he haven’t…”

“No, we have not.”

“Not once?”

“No.”

“And you’re married. To each other, I mean.”

“Yes, we are married.”

“Not even once since you got here?”

“No. Not even once.”

She looks back down the hole to see the shaft. “You should, Dear. You really should.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I can hear Johnathyn and Janet LaRouche talking at the top of the manhole but I can’t hear exactly what they are saying. Guess it doesn’t matter. If there was a problem of some kind, one of them would let me know.

The clothes are a little touristy for my taste but that’s the purpose. Add a hat and some sun glasses and I should be able to be unrecognized until we start tomorrow. After I finish buttoning my shirt, I grab the first rung of the steps.

“Coming up!” I shout and quickly climb the ten feet or so to the top. When I get there, I hold out my hand to Johnathyn. “A little help?”

He reaches out, takes my hand and easily pulls me out of the manhole. Together, we get the cover back in place in seconds and all three of us pick up my magic stuff and hurry away. We aren’t headed back to the apartment though. If someone is looking for me, that’s the first place they’d go. Were spending the rest of today and tomorrow morning at the rooms that Pegues originally rented when they crossed over weeks ago.

It’ll be take out instead of home cooking but we’ll be safer.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Ridgeway said she would do what she could to raise the alarm at the Winthrop group about Alex Thompson but she is as limited as I am. Neither of us are in the good graces of our employers. For the same reason--we failed to put down the revolution over there. Now, we may have proof that the revolution has crossed over to our world and no one wants to believe us.

I’ve put together a fairly impressive collection of videos from YouTube of Thompson’s act, including some from today’s finale. Unfortunately, nothing from today managed to catch our conversation. They show us talking but you can’t hear what we’re saying. All I can hope is that these videos along with DNA proof will convince Lawson that something must be done about him right now.

The next question is what should be done. Upper management hates it when you simply bring them problems. They want solutions, preferably ones they can adopt and take credit for if they work or can hide from if they fail. Here, there are too many unknowns. Is Thompson working alone? If not, who are his people, how many are there, where are they?

Clearly, simply killing Thompson is not enough. We have to capture him, question him. He knows things that could cause the company all kinds of problems but he may not have proof. If he does have proof, he’s smart enough to have taken precautions, maybe that landlord of his or that giant friend of hers.

This is simply too much for Ridgeway and me to handle by ourselves. If we can’t get some help from the Winthrop Group, we could lose this one.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Ridgeway, you know we don’t take a dump around here without an order in triplicate. If you don’t have orders from the top, I can’t help you.”

Bureaucracy is bureaucracy wherever you go.

“Look, Bates. I’m not telling you to actually do anything. What I’m suggesting is that you get ready to do something.”

“And why would I do that, Ridgeway?”

“Because I’ve got inside information that the Consortium is going to make an emergency request for an Action Team. The man who activates that team quickly will look like a hero to upper management, wouldn’t you think?”

Bates gives me an extremely suspicious look. “Exactly what are you suggesting?”

“Naturally, the obvious. Put an assault squad on alert, same with a communication unit.”

“Really? Is that all? Maybe I should call the National Guard too?”

What a dick. “It’s no big deal, Bates. You’re the man in charge of training, aren’t you? You do shit like that all the time and call it a readiness drill.” I hated those damn things. They could ruin a perfectly good weekend. “You also assign a surveillance squad to follow some random civilian for a couple of days to keep the skill set sharp. Instead of a random civilian, what if I suggest a name?”

“Who’s paying for all this?”

“It’s already in your training budget. It’s just a matter of timing. You ‘just happen’ to have the correct people on alert when the Consortium ‘just happens’ to need them. You look like a genius.”

“And if I don’t get the call from the Consortium?”

“Then it’s just your normal, unannounced, readiness drill. The troops hate ’em but they know they’re coming.”

“What about this guy you want followed? How do I sell that one?”

“Like I said, training. You always pair up some newbies with vets and send them out to teach surveillance techniques. Nothing new.”

“Level with me, Ridgeway. Why this guy? Who is he?”

I wanted to put this off as long as possible but if I put him off, Bates is going to be more suspicious than he already is.

“Lance Mastiff.”

“The magic guy? I’ve seen some of those videos floating around here. Those tricks with the Coke cans? Crazy shit man.”

“You seen the one from today?”

“Naw, haven’t checked my email yet.”

“He’s disappeared.”

“Didn’t show up for his performance?”

“Oh he showed up. Then he disappeared.”

Bates looked confused. “You mean he got inside a box of some kind, they turned around a couple of times, and when they opened the box he was gone?”

“No, he took off his clothes, threw on a robe and he disappeared, leaving an empty robe. And no, there was no trap door, no manhole in the sidewalk and he was surrounded by people so he didn’t sneak off.”

“That’s impossible!”

“Bates … did you ever … you know, cross over?”

“Me? No. I would have though. And yes, I know that means I’d become a chick, but come on! It’s another god damn universe! Who wouldn’t want to see it?”

“Well, if you had, you wouldn’t say it was impossible. I saw shit like that all the time.”

“Hold on. Are you saying this Mastiff guy is from over there?”

I could try to tell Bates the entire story but I don’t have the time and I don’t need to. “Yeah, that’s what it looks like.”

“One of them, over here? My God!”

“Exactly.”

“How’d those idiots let that happen?!”

“Who knows? The main thing is we’ve got to find him and put him in the bag until we’ve wrung him dry. But to do that we’ve got to find him.”

“Look, Ridgeway. There’s only so much I can do without orders. I can give you four guys to search for Mastiff and I can put the rest of the Action Team on standby but the Consortium’s gonna have to make that call and agree to pay the freight. Winthrop Group ain’t a charity.”

“That’s all I’m suggesting, Bates.”

“Hope it’s enough.”

“Me too.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We got Leeanna her McRibs. I have a couple of Big Macs and fries. Johnathyn decides on chicken sandwiches while Pegues passed. Claims she isn’t hungry. It’s probably nerves. I know I’m nervous. The last time we went to war, there were more of us and I was much stronger. The enemy was stronger too but she was much more predictable. I had a pretty good idea how things were going to go and what I would do if they went some other way.

It’s a lot different this time. I don’t think the enemy knows what to expect from me but I’m not exactly sure what to expect from them either. I’m counting on surprising them but if I’m wrong, someone is going to get hurt. Maybe a lot of someones. Maybe me.

But it won’t be Johnathyn and Leeanna.

We eat our meals in silence. Even Leeanna feels the weight of the moment. After we finish our food, I gather the trash and toss it in the waste can next to the bathroom. When I return to the room, I sit back down at the table.

“Guys, I want to get something straight. I’m not happy about it but I need all of you at the Consortium tomorrow. Every little bit of belief will help and you three are the strongest believers. We’ve already talked about how you each get in the building and what you do when you get there but we haven’t talked about what happens if things go wrong. Thankfully, it’s simple. You all meet in the lobby, go somewhere relatively quiet and you go back home. Pegues will bring his Portal Generator. You open a portal and leave. Simple and straight forward. I don’t want to hear any objections or arguments.”

“You won’t get any from me,” says Pegues.

“You will from me,” says Johnathyn. Leeanna just nods her head in agreement.

I take their hands in mine. “I appreciate your willingness to stay but it’s not right. You two are the most important people in the world to me. You don’t belong in this world and I won’t see you stranded here. If we win, we all go home. If we lose, you three go home. You can’t stay here under any circumstances. You don’t belong here. This world would eat you up. It’s a fun place to visit but you wouldn’t want to live here. I’ll arrange a time and place to meet Pegues as a backup plan a few weeks later, presumably once the heat has died down. He’ll be a one man team, you understand. No further rescue attempts.”

“But our world needs you, Mother. We all do. I do,” Leeanna pleads.

“I know, Honey. If this doesn’t work, I’ll find a way back. The technology exists; I just need to get my hands on it.”

“Then just come back with us now! Don’t take any chances! We could leave right now!”

“Leeanna, I know this is hard for you to understand but this is more than just vengeance. It’s about what kind of world we return to, the future of our world, your future.”

“Your mother is right,” says Johnathyn. “We have discussed this and I agree with her. It is important. But it is also important we all return home.”

I sigh. Johnathyn isn’t going to let this go. If we’re gonna have it out, I don’t want Lee to see it.

“It’s getting late and we all need to get some sleep tonight. Leeanna, you can stay with Mirantha …” Lee opens her mouth to object. “Just for tonight.”

“Nooooo! I want to stay with you and Father!”

I hug her shoulders and kiss her forehead. “I know, this isn’t fun for you. It’s not fun for any off us.”

“Certainly not for me,” grouses Pegues. She extends her hand towards Leeanna. “Come on, Leeanna. Let’s leave the adults alone to talk.”

“Go on,” I say. “We’ll both see you in the morning.” I kiss her cheek. Johnathyn nods his head in agreement.

Leeanna reluctantly takes Pegues’ hand and he leads her out of the room, closing the door behind them.

I start to straighten up the hotel room. “I never asked how you got the money to finance this little rescue mission.”

“Some of us returned to the Winthrop Group compound after you left.”

“After I left clear orders that it was to be left alone?”

“You were gone, others were in charge. I went to make sure the spirit of your order was kept if not the actual order.”

Johnathyn was as curious as anyone. There wasn’t any way to keep people from going back short of burning it to the ground. I’ll have to remember that the next time.

“So what did you find?”

“We found a safe in the floor of a closet. It was not that hard to remove but was difficult to open.”

“Without the combination or a cutting torch, I can imagine. How’d you end up opening it?”

“A three stone hammer can be very persuasive.”

Particularly if swung by Johnathyn about a hundred times.

“You pounded the safe to mush. What did you find?”

“Over 12,000 of your doll-ares. Why are mostly light green pieces of paper with pictures on them valuable in this world?”

“They’re not intrinsically valuable, it’s what they represent.”

“What do they represent?”

“The belief that they will be accepted in exchange for goods and services.”

“So a man is wealthy because he believes he is wealthy and others believe the same?”

“No, not exactly. I could spend all night describing our monetary system but that’s not what we need to discuss, is it?”

“No. It is not.” Johnathyn sits straight in his chair, upright and shoulders back, forearms resting on top of the table in front of him. Even now, “she” can be quit intimidating. “I do not want Leeanna to be a part of this.”

“She’ll be with you the entire time. You don’t need to do anything but stay in the public lobby on the first floor. They’ll have no reason to suspect either of you of anything. It’s extremely safe. Besides, where else would you have her be? Pegues has his own job to do as does LaRouche. There’s no one left to watch her. We could leave her all by herself here in the hotel or at LaRouche’s shop but if things go wrong and you need to make a fast escape, then it will take time to get her. If she’s right there, you’re all gone in minutes instead of hours.”

“I am not leaving without you, Alexia. Not after going through all …” his hands hover in front of his breasts for a moment, “…THIS to find you.”

I really want to remind him I went through all THAT myself when I came to his world. In the end, it wasn’t all bad. He should give it a chance. Unfortunately, we don’t have the time for Johnathyn to try and adapt.

“Johnathyn, we all have jobs to do here. If I can’t pull this off, we’re all screwed. Both in this world and yours. I’ve got to get this right and I’m the only one who can do it. Why do you insist on giving me grief about this?”

“Because I do not want Leeanna involved. I’m her father; it should be my decision.”

“I’m her mother and I say it’s the only way that makes sense.”

“We both know that you are not really her mother.”

That hurt. I always expected he’d say something like that when we would eventually disagree about Leeanna sometime in the future but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less just because I knew it was coming.

“Are you saying I don’t love that girl, Johnathyn? Are you saying I would not lay down my life for her? Are you saying that she means NOTHING TO ME?! Are you saying that all that we said to each other on the other side meant NOTHING?! That I was her mother when it was CONVENIENT for you but now that we have to actually talk about her and there’s a disagreement, you’re gonna play the ‘not mommy’ card? Is that how this is going down, Johnathyn?”

Luckily, since I knew he’d say that some day, I had a response rehearsed. He looks shocked.

“NO! I didn’t mean to say any of that!”

“Well I don’t want to hear that statement ever again. If this works and we go home, I need to know right now, by your solemn word. Am I or am I not to be treated as Leeanna’s mother? This is a final, once and for all decision, Johnathyn. There’s no second thoughts or going back. I’m either a part of this family or I’m not. Your call. But before you make that call, remember that we are not going home to that idyllic life we had of traveling through the country, helping people one to one. I’m going to be the Queen, you’re going to be my husband, the Queen’s consort and she’s going to be the Queen’s daughter and we’re all going to spend the rest of our lives in the spotlight and the crosshairs. If it goes wrong, it’s my problem and I’ll get the blame. If it goes right, I’ll be lucky to get the credit half the time. You and Lee will be in the same boat with me. It won’t be the same as before but, hopefully, we can all do some good.”

I reach across the table and gently take Johnathyn’s hand in mine. “So you tell me, are we a family or not?”

He stares at me from across the table for a few seconds, then a small smile appears on his face as he begins to rub the back of my hand with his thumb. “If I had any doubts that you are still the Alexia that I knew, they are vanquished. I am sorry. It was cruel of me to say what I did. We are now and shall ever be a family, come what may but I long for the day when you are the woman and I am the man again.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty well equipped to show you a good time right now.” He tries to pull his hand away but I keep a grip on it. “I know. You’re not ready. I certainly wasn’t ready after a few weeks either. Not a problem. Back to Leeanna. I understand why you don’t want her there. It’s safer. But if she’s not there, you can try to ride to my rescue if things go wrong, like you did at the castle. I’m grateful you were there then but this is different. If Lee is there, you’ll have to take care of her first and me second and taking care of her means returning home and leaving me here. I understand and accept that. You need to also. It’s the right way and the only way that makes sense for everybody.”

“I surrender to your logic, Alexia. You win. I am not happy but there appears to be no happy choice presented so I accept the least unpleasant choice.”

“Great. Now come over here.”

I stand up, still holding his hand, and lead him to the couch.

“What is this?” he asks.

“Just sit and wait.”

Johnathyn sits as I release his hand. I cross the room and turn out the lights. There’s still some soft, diffuse light in the room from the city lights outside filtering through the curtains drawn across the windows. I can see well enough to find my way back to the couch.

“Scoot over,” I say.

Johnathyn slides to one end. I sit and snuggle my back up against him. He stiffens up.

“Please hold me, Johnathyn.”

“Alexia … I don’t …”

“Just close your eyes and hold me. That’s all. Just hold me. I pray to Zaphod that we win tomorrow and we have many, many years together but if we don’t, I would like to fall asleep in your arms tonight. Is that asking too much of my husband?”

I feel his arms slide around my lower rib cage, cradling my arms.

“It is not too much to ask of me, my wife.”

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

I don’t know how long my phone was ringing before it woke me but I listen to at least three rings before I roll over to my right side and reach for it, swatting at the top of the night table before finally finding it, shutting off the damn ringing. When I bring the phone to my ear, I can see the clock on the screen.

4 freaking 35 in the morning. It’s Donna White.

“Yeah, White, what do you want?” I ask, flopping back onto my bed.

“I need a progress report, Captain Ridgeway.”

“At this fucking hour?! I just got to bed, like three hours ago!”

“I haven’t gone to bed. It could happen today. It could be happening right now.”

“Then why don’t YOU go down to your office and give ME a progress report? Forget that. You’re crazy enough to do it. I don’t know any more than I did like six hours ago and probably won’t until morning. Bates knows to call me if the Surveillance Team tumbles to anything. He calls me, I’ll call you. That’s as much as we can do right now.”

“What about the Assault Squad?”

“Still on standby but they won’t stay that way forever. If you want more than that, you’ll have to get the Consortium to pay for it.”

“What did the Surveillance Team actually find?”

“I told you, White. Nothing! Mastiff had left his apartment, took what little stuff he had and vamoosed. The old lady checked out, she actually is his landlady.”

“What about the big one, with the sledge hammer?”

“They didn’t see her. Look, they’re checking out some pretty skimpy leads. If anything pans out, I’ll know. Go to bed and get some sleep. It’s the best thing we can do right now. It’s the only thing we can do right now.”

“I don’t see how you can sleep at a time like this, Captain.”

“Practice. Don’t call me again. You can pick me up in the morning at eight - and not a minute before, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Go to bed, White.”

I disconnect the call and put the phone back on the nightstand. If White calls again tonight, I’ll kill her in the morning.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Are you MAD?!”

“I don’t think so, Janet.”

“Alex, when you said you would get to the roof of the Consortium’s building by crossing over from the roof of the building next door, I thought it was brilliant but I also assumed they were close to each other and the same height. They’re separated by over forty feet and the other building is ten stories taller. It’s suicide!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Can you fly?”

“Not over here. I could over there. I’ve tried, but no luck.”

“Then I don’t see how you’re going to do it.”

We’ve all gathered on top of the roof of the apartment building next to the Consortium’s office. Getting up here was easy, the place has minimal security and it’s 6:30 in the morning. The Consortium, on the other hand, has lots of security. Getting from the relatively open ground floor to the top floor where they’ll be holding their board meeting would be very tough. Going from the roof to one floor down would be much easier, particularly if the aren’t expecting it. Getting to the roof is the tough part.

“I can’t fly but I can fall with style.”

Leeanna laughs. She recognizes the line.

“What does that mean?” asks LaRouche.

“It means, Mistress LaRouche, that my mother can safely go from here to there,” Leeanna answers with pride in her voice.

“Child, no one could do that without a parachute.”

“Even a parachute wouldn’t work. The roofs are too close,” I say. “I can control my fall, Janet. I’ve done it before, admittedly with more magic in the vicinity but that’s why you’re all here. You are all believers, strong believers.”

“Alex, I don’t believe you can do this,” says LaRouche.

“That doesn’t matter, just as long as you believe in magic. What I do with that belief is my business. I know this is dangerous but so is going in through the front door. This is dangerous for the fewest people, just me.”

LaRouche is exasperated. “You’re this man’s … husband, Johnathyn. Do something!”

Johnathyn had been standing apart from the rest of us near the edge of the roof, staring across the space between the two buildings, his back to all of us.

“This is as it must be, Mistress LaRouche,” he replies without turning around. “I have seen what Alexia can do when she sets her mind to it. I also know that changing her mind is very difficult. It is better to help her than fight her.”

LaRouche finally turns towards Pegues but he just raises his hands and shakes his head. “Don’t look at me,” he says. “I just do what I’m told. He’s the Queen.”

I clap my hands together lightly several times. “Guys, we’re burning dark here. I need to do this while there aren’t a lot of people paying attention. It’s now or never.”

“Better never,” LaRouche grumbles.

“Well, if I die, you have my permission to put ‘I told you so’ on my headstone, Janet. Johnathyn, take your position.”

Johnathyn walks back and forth several times, eyeing the other roof. He finally stops, pointing at something. I step up next to him.

“This is the shortest distance. Your target is that black pipe. See it?”

I site down his arm and see where he’s pointing.

“Yep. Got it.”

“The wind is blowing this direction,” he indicates left to right with a sweep of his hand. “But it is also blowing up off the face of the building, which is a good omen. It should help.” He fixes me with his deep blue eyes. “Be careful, Alexia.”

“I will. Stick to the plan. Make sure Pegues does too. If everyone does their job, we go home to an uncertain future.” I smile and wink at him. “Can’t beat that with a stick.”

He smiles too, though he has no idea what I’m saying. I back away from him about thirty feet and look around. LaRouche is standing behind Leeanna, her hands resting on Lee’s shoulders. I give Lee what I hope is a confident smile and a thumbs up. She responds with one of each. LaRouche shrugs and also gives me a wan smile and a thumbs up. Pegues just nods.

I turn back to face Johnathyn, take a calming breath and start to run towards him, slowly at first but rapidly accelerating toward the edge of the roof. I have to commit 100 percent to this or it will fail. Concentrating on a point just a few feet before Johnathyn, that’s my take off point. I don’t even look at the edge, just my take off point. Everything one step at a time.

As my right foot hits my mark, Johnathyn grabs me and throws me up and over the edge, launching me into the air. For a few seconds, it’s as if I am flying again but gravity quickly reasserts itself and I begin to fall. I desperately look around until I find the black pipe that is my target and concentrate on that. Every thought I have, every bit of energy in my body is directed towards that pipe. I’m still falling but the arc is beginning to flatten out. I’m moving forward also.

After about seven seconds, I can see that I’m going to land on the Consortium’s roof but now, I’ve got to slow down. I switch to thinking about an enormous airbed like stuntmen use. It’s big and thick and it slowly collapses as soon as you land on it. Just a bag of air that dissipates on contact. I just need the air to gather beneath me. Lots and lots of air. I’ve used it before, I can use it again. Gather the air. Collect the air. Pack the air.

I feel the resistance. I’m slowing. Don’t stop! Pack the air. Condense the air. Still slowing. Gather! Pack! Condense! Slowing but not enough! Gather! Pack! Condense! Get ready … get ready … ready … ROLL! I throw myself forward, my shoulder striking the roof but I immediately start rolling across the surface. I feel momentarily squashed but keep rolling, changing the direction of the energy. I spread my arms and legs, the rolling stops as I skid to a halt on my back.

Ouch.

Alive but … ouch.

I roll over onto my stomach and push myself up off the roof, getting my feet underneath me and slowly stand up, waiting for something to say “hold up Dude! I’m broken!” but nothing speaks up. Looks like I made it safe and sound. Except for my clothes. Both pants and shirt are torn and dirty.

When I get to my feet, I look back the way I just came and see four figures standing on the edge of the apartment building, the shortest waving both arms wildly in the air above her head. That’s my girl. I raise both arms and wave back. She starts to jump up and down but Johnathyn puts his hand on her shoulder, settling her down. He steps away from the group and begins to swing a rope over his head, letting a little more rope slip from his hand as it continues to circle above him, the speed quickly increasing. As the circling rope becomes a blur, he releases it, the end arcing out into the sky and then it begins to fall, slowly at first but rapidly picking up speed, aiming straight at me. I wait until the last second to move aside, letting the end of the rope land within three feet of me.

Johnathyn had tied the rope around a good sized rock and had slung it in my direction, almost striking me on his first attempt. Not bad at all. I untie the rope from around the rock then loop it several times around an exhaust pipe before tying it off. Johnathyn pulls up the slack, tightening the rope between us. Leeanna hangs a bundle on the rope and releases it, the bundle shooting down the rope straight to me. I catch it before it strikes the pipe, disconnect it from the rope and open it. It’s my original black magician’s outfit and a FSR two way radio. I switch the radio on and the display lights up. It’s already set to the agreed upon base and security channels. I happily push the “talk” button.

“What’d ya think about my landing, Lee?”

“Are you alright, Mother?”

“Not bad. A few scrapes and bruises. It’ll hurt worse tomorrow. Hand the radio to your father.”

I see them exchange the radio and then Johnathyn bends down closer to Leeanna as she again explains how the buttons work. My radio buzzes several times and then I hear a voice.

“Alexia, can you hear me? Oh … over?”

“Yes Johnathyn, I can hear you. You take care of Leeanna and both of you stay out of trouble. Over.”

He fumbles with the radio and Leeanna lends a hand. It beeps again.

“… understand, Alexia. You also be careful. Mistress LaRouche wishes to speak with you.”

I watch the hand over.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, Alex. Are you really okay?”

“Yes, Janet. As I said, a few bumps and bruises but otherwise fine. The meeting’s scheduled for an 11:15 a.m. start, an early catered lunch meeting. You all know what to do but don’t take any chances. You’re the only one with real experience in this world, Janet, so I’m relying on you to keep everyone safe. I’ll be monitoring this channel so, if anything goes wrong, contact me. Otherwise, we meet at the rendezvous point after it’s all finished. Over.”

“Sorry, I forgot. Not used to these technical things. Yes, the rendezvous after it is all over. No, not over … I mean not that kind of over.”

Leeanna snatches the radio from LaRouche. “We all understand, Mother. We won’t let you down … be careful … I love you …Over.”

“I love you too, Leeanna. Over.”

Both Johnathyn and Leeanna make one last wave and then they walk away from the edge until I can’t see them anymore. I reach in the bag and remove my lock pick set. Time to change clothes, work on the lock on the door to the stairwell and recharge my magic as everyone comes to work.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

They promised me results by 10:00 a.m. and it’s already 10:24 a.m. What is the delay? I’ve spoken to Ridgeway twice this morning and there is still nothing on Thompson. I can feel things slipping away from me, like a noose tightening around my neck. We are running out of time!

Ridgeway says that there is no reason to panic, that we haven’t got proof of anything yet. She’s right but I also know Thompson. He loves to take chances and God knows he has the flair for the dramatic. Even before he adopted the Lance Mastiff disguise, back when he was keeping a low profile, he was suspected of performing some of the most difficult hacks ever attempted. When the authorities were able to determine how he did it, it was always by some unique, unexpected, elegant method. Talking with them, you definitely got the impression that they respected his abilities, some of them respected Thompson himself, a few even admired him.

You can’t relax around someone like that. I saw first hand what Alexia was capable of and there is no doubt in my mind that Alex Thompson is just as ruthless.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We parked Alex’s truck around the corner on West 59th street, out of sight of the Consortium’s office. We packed all our equipment in the back and Pegues and I are ready to enter the building. Each of us is wearing a brown, heavy duty apron, the kind you find in garden shops, over work clothes of blue coveralls. There are four 5 gallon buckets, one holding garden tools and assorted soil testing kits, the other three stacks of vials of my potions, fully charged with magic. I grab the one with the tools and one of the potion buckets.

“It’s time to go, Pegues. Alex wants us in place by 10:30. We need to take our time and be in the lobby when the meeting starts upstairs. Let me do the talking. This is my world, I know how the people here think.”

“As you wish, Mistress LaRouche,” Pegues replies.

“Also, as much as I love the ‘Mistress’ reference, you had better call me ‘Janet’.”

“As you wish, Janet.”

“Good. You get the other buckets. Johnathyn, you and Leeanna come in at 11:00. Use that dolly cart. Load it up with as many packages of phone books that you can carry.”

There are over twenty shrink wrapped packages of phone books in the back of the truck, thirty books per package, along with an industrial dolly.

“Where did you get these Mistress … I apologize, Janet,” Johnathyn asks.

“Alex and I picked them up at the Library. The publisher leaves thousands there for people to take. They were more than happy to get rid of them. All you and Leeanna need do is load the dolly, take it to the lobby and wait for the guards to ask you what you’re doing. Tell them you’re delivering the phone books and where do they want them. Don’t let them brush you off. If they won’t cooperate, tell them you’ll just leave them in the corner, drop them there and spend the rest of your time counting them. Slowly counting them.”

“What is a phone book?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have time to explain it. The guards will know, that’s what’s important. Don’t make a scene, don’t get into a fight. If things get ugly, I’ll step in.”

“I understand, Janet. Thank you for helping us. You do not need to take the risk but you have done so anyway. We are all indebted to you.”

Pegues grabs the handles of the buckets and lifts them, grunting loudly from the effort.

“What do you have in here, rocks?” she complains.

“Minerals, so close enough. Let’s go.”

We hurry off, following the sidewalk to the Central Park South intersection and then we turn right, crossing in front of the Consortium’s office, Pegues lagging behind me. I climb the steps and hold the door open for her as she struggles up the steps. I follow her in.

The atrium inside is impressive. Two stories tall, lots of light, glass and chrome. And lots of plants. And trees. There’s a bank of black leather chairs off to the right. Pegues drops her buckets as I step up to the front desk.

“Good morning. We’re with the plant services.”

It doesn’t appear that the guard is buying it.

“You people were just here yesterday. Watered the hell out of everything.”

“We don’t do the watering. We’re in charge of plant health. We test the soils, add fertilizer, organic of course, minerals, whatever.”

“Got a work order?”

I was afraid of this. We’ll have to bluff our way in.

“That’s a funny story. We had one but lost it, got sucked right out the window of the truck while we were driving over here.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Hilarious story. No work order, can’t help ya’ ladies.”

“But we had a work order!”

“Then go get another. Not my problem.”

“Look, Sir …”

Pegues picks up her buckets. “Don’t bother, Janet. This jerk doesn’t understand. Let’s go to the next job.”

“No! Wait, Pegues.”

“Janet, the guy thinks it’s not his problem. Fine. He’ll find out soon enough that it is. We’ve got other jobs today.”

“What do you mean it’s my problem?” asks the guard.

Pegues drops the buckets again. “You know how much even one of those trees are worth?”

“No. How much?”

“Like three times your annual salary. And there’s what … six of them? You do the calculations. That’s not counting all the other plants. Yes, they were all watered yesterday to prepare them for us to do the testing and feeding. You can’t keep big trees like those healthy in such small pots without very careful monitoring. If they die because you kept us from our job, it will definitely be your problem. We’re certainly not going to take the blame.” She picks up her buckets again. “So, what is it going to be?”

The guard is clearly angry, grinding his teeth, but he’s also afraid. Which emotion wins? He turns towards me.

“Fine. Don’t make a mess and get done as fast as possible.”

Fear wins. I nod my head and pick up my buckets. “Yes, Sir. Thank you. We’ll be done before you know it.” I head for the group of plants furthest from his desk, Pegues following behind. I hear the guard mumble something about “bitches” before his attention turns to a couple of men who have just entered the building.

I set my buckets down next to the chrome planter, as does Pegues. I glance back towards the guard who is no longer paying attention to us.

“I said that I’d handle it,” I whisper.

“And you were doing so well. Janet, you don’t beg an underling; you demand and you succeed. You may have to beg a Master but only as a last resort.”

It doesn’t matter how, we’re in and we need to get to work.

“I’ll start here, you go over there. Put a little soil in the bottle; add a squirt of water and a piece of litmus; cap the bottle, shake it; check the paper and then push a potion vial into the dirt.”

“Why bother with all that? We can simply distribute the vials.”

I look up and nod towards the cameras in the corners of the ceiling.

“Someone is watching so we need to put on a show.”

“Understood. I can certainly put on a show. Out of curiosity, will your potions help these plants?”

“Who knows? They’re all natural ingredients so they shouldn’t hurt.”

Pegues picks up a bucket and grabs some testing supplies.

“On my world, all poisons are also natural ingredients.” She walks towards the planter on the other side of the atrium.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“YES!! GOT HIM! Fax me the results immediately!”

I disconnect on that line and immediately reopen the line, dialing Ridgeway directly at the Winthrop Group. She picks up on the third ring.

“Ridgeway, it’s Thompson! The DNA test results confirm the samples are mother and two siblings. It’s got to be him!”

“We kinda knew that already, White.”

“Yes, of course, but now we have proof, something I can take to Lawson. If he’s too stupid to recognize the threat, then Hinkle will take action. Get your people ready. Any word from the ones searching for Thompson?”

“No, nothing at all. Maybe he did disappear for real.”

“No, not him. Get over here immediately. I’ll meet you in the lobby and vouch for you to get you past security. I should have the test results in hand by then and we both can go see Lawson.”

“The question is, will Lawson see us?”

“I don’t care at this point. Either he sees us or Hinkle does. I’d prefer Lawson, action will be taken quicker, but either one will do. Get over here as fast as you can.”

“On my way.” She disconnects, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I can’t move for a moment, temporarily overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. We are just minutes away from beginning a manhunt for possibly the most dangerous man on the planet and none of it would have happened if I hadn’t taken the initiative. Lawson and others may take the blame for letting it happen but I should get all the credit for sounding the alarm. I may even be put in charge of the manhunt. Who knows Alex Thompson better than I do?

That potential assignment sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine, jogging me into action. I hurry to the business hub on my floor to see if the fax has arrived from the lab. So far, the cover page and two of five pages have printed. I’ll go to the lobby, get Ridgeway and grab the fax on my way up to see Lawson.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Ppphhhhfffttt! Ppphhhhfffttttt!”

I hear some noise coming from where Pegues is working. I glance her way. She is looking straight at me. Once she catches my eye, she tips her head towards the front entrance. I slowly turn my head in that direction.

Leeanna is holding the door open as Johnathyn easily rolls the grossly overloaded dolly towards the entrance. She’s dressed in brown cargo shorts, a black polo shirt and low cut work shoes with white socks. Her lean, muscular legs are on display as are her generous breasts, broad shoulders and sculpted arms. She looks like she belongs in an outdoor fitness magazine. I ease towards the front desk just in case things go wrong.

“Can I help you, Miss?” the guard asks, a gleam of lust in his eyes.

“Yes, we are delivering these phone books. Where do you want them?”

“Is that the only thing you’re delivering, Honey?”

“Yes, just the books. Where do you want them?”

“Well, my lunch relief should show up pretty soon, you wait just a bit and I can help you deliver them throughout the building. What do you say to that, sweetie?”

Johnathyn sneaks a look my way and I give a quick nod.

“That’s acceptable. I’ll just go over here and make certain I have enough books.”

The guard laughs. “Honey, you’ve got enough books for the Empire State Building. Is the kid with you?” He points at Leeanna.

Leeanna stands up as tall as he can, puffing out his chest. “I am. She’s my … mother.”

“Your mother?” the guard says. “You know what a MILF is, kid?”

The insolent, crude dimwit! Of course the child has no idea what a MILF is. He better hope that Johnathyn also has no idea.

“No,” Leeanna answers.

The guard winks at Johnathyn. “I’ll explain it to your mom later.”

Johnathyn wheels the dolly to the side of the lobby where I am working so I return to the tree I had been testing. The guard’s eyes don’t leave her until two men approach the desk.

“What is this MILF he referred to?” Johnathyn whispers to me.

“You don’t want to know,” I whisper in return. “Just stay here and look busy. It shouldn’t be long now.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The wait at the elevator seems interminable. I know I’ll reach the lobby long before Ridgeway does but I can’t sit around doing nothing. When the doors finally open, the car is empty, which means the trip could be a short one without any extra stops. Unfortunately, the elevator stops three more times before reaching the lobby. There are four people waiting to board as I get off. I step past them and walk about five feet before I realize that I recognize two of them. They’re Board Members.

I take up a position near the main door. I want to catch Ridgeway as soon as she enters. While I wait, three more Board Members walk in. I watch them as they cross the lobby and stop in front of the bank of elevators, right next to one of the large planters that are scattered throughout the lobby. There’s a woman, one of the service staff, working on the plants.

Wait. I think I know that woman. Ridgeway is still minutes away so I’ve got time to check this out. I slowly cross the lobby, back the way I came. The woman’s head is turned to the side and partly blocked from my view by a large fern. I pause and wait for her to look my way but she keeps her head down. There’s a metal trash can near me so I give a quick kick with my foot, causing a sharp, short bang. She can’t help turning her head towards the noise.

DAMN! It’s Thompson’s landlady! What is she doing here? I take a closer look at the other woman working on a different planter on the other side of the lobby but I can’t recall seeing her before. There’s a third woman squatting next to a large stack of phone books. She’s also looking my way. She stares at me, then slowly stands up … MY GOD! It’s that friend of the landlady! I rush to the front desk.

“That woman working on the plants, did a man come with her?” I ask the guard.

“Naw. The two of them came together about half an hour ago.”

“What about the one with the phone books?”

“It was just her and her kid. They’ve been here about five, ten minutes at most. Is there a problem?”

“You have no idea.”

I hurry back to the front doors and whip out my cell phone. Ridgeway is on speed dial. She answers on the second ring.

“What’s up, White?”

“He’s already here,” I hiss.

“Thompson?”

“Yes!”

“You’ve seen him?”

“No, but his landlady and her big friend are not more than sixty feet away from me disguised as a delivery woman and a greenhouse worker. That can’t be a coincidence!”

Ridgeway doesn’t say anything right away but then she replies.

“You're right, he’s there or soon will be and he’s got a plan. You can’t wait for me. I’m stuck in traffic. It’ll be at least another fifteen minutes. You gotta go. Now. Good luck. I’ll get there when I can.”

Rushing back to the elevators, I push the “up” button but nothing happens. Looking up at the floor indicators, all the cars are either at the upper floors or rising. I can’t wait. The stairs are on my left and my office is seven floors above me.

I am too old for this shit!

I hit the stairway door hard, banging it open and start climbing the stairs, instantly regretting my choice of shoes. I hadn’t planned on running all over hell and back today, I was going to have others do that, primarily Ridgeway. At that point, 3 inch heels made sense, giving me a little commanding height. By the third floor, I have to stop and take the damn shoes off. When I reach the seventh floor, I’m gasping for air with barely the strength to open the door out of the stairwell. As I approach the business hub for my fax, one of the secretaries reacts with shock.

“Ms. White! What’s wrong?”

I’m just about to answer that question when I hear the “ding” of the elevator stopping at our floor. A woman gets off but there are several other people inside. It’s going up!

“Hold that elevator!” I shout as I lurch towards it, clutching my papers and shoes to my chest. The door is shutting but someone inside shoots a hand out in time to stop the door and it slowly reopens.

“Thanks” I gasp, trying to get some air back into my burning lungs.

“No problem. Where to?” asks a man I don’t recognize.

“Top floor,” I answer as I steady myself with one hand against the sidewall, putting my left, then right shoe back on. There are two more stops before I reach my floor and I’m alone by then. I’ve managed to compose myself and straighten my hair a bit.

When the door opens, I dash towards Lawson’s office but am stopped by his PA, Jennings.

“I’m sorry, Ms. White,” she says. “Mr. Lawson is in a Board Meeting right now. It just started and he won’t be available until after 2:00.”

“This can’t wait.”

I turn and head for the Board meeting room, ignoring Jennings’s protests. I pause at the double doors just long enough to get a bit calmer and then I push them open. All eyes turn my way. Every one of the seventeen men in the room, with the exception of the waiter dressed in black with a white apron who’s in the middle of serving lunch, looks up at me.

“What is it, White?” growls Lawson.

So much for being calm. “I really hate to bother you, Sir …”

“Then don’t,” grumbles one of the other men but I continue.

“… but we have a major problem.”

“You had better not be wasting my time with that Alex Thompson crap again, White.”

“Yes, Sir. It is Alex Thompson and I’m afraid it’s not crap.” It’s never been crap, you idiot. “We have DNA tests that prove Alex Thompson and Lance Mastiff are one and the same.”

“Where’d you get the samples?”

“I acquired them myself.”

“I wasn’t aware our labs were doing those tests.”

“I didn’t use our labs. I thought it was important to get the results as soon as possible so I authorized outside testing.”

“So that I wouldn’t know about it?” Lawson asked.

“No, Sir. It was strictly a matter of speed. The samples only became available two days ago. Our labs wouldn’t expedite the tests.”

All the while Larson and I are talking, the others in the room continue to eat but they pay attention to what we say. They all seem to know who Alex Thompson is because they aren’t talking among themselves, asking each other quiet questions.

“With good reason, White. There’s no emergency here, it can wait until after this meeting.”

“No, Sir, it cannot wait. You don’t seem to grasp what is happening here.” That pissed him off, I even heard a couple of Board members gasp. I stole a glance over at Stewart Hinkle, who is making a show of eating his meal, calling the waiter over to refill his water glass, but I can tell he’s all ears. “Alex Thompson, a man from our world, has been performing absolutely impossible magic tricks in front of this building for weeks. What makes this noteworthy is that he shouldn’t even be in this world, he should be trapped over in the other world and he shouldn’t be able to manipulate magic in this world. Suddenly, a few days ago, he decides to disappear in the most spectacular fashion and has not been seen since. People have been searching for him without success. Now, right this minute, there are at least two of Thompson’s confederates in our lobby, disguised as common service workers. None of this can be a coincidence!”

“So, Ms. White, what is Thompson’s big scary plan?” asks Lawson, condescension dripping from the question.

“I don’t know but we must take precautions immediately. Everyone in this room is at risk, maybe everyone in this building. You need to contact the Winthrop Group and have them deploy the Assault Squad that’s on standby. This building and the people working here need protection.”

“Who put an Assault Squad on standby?”

Might as well fess up. “I did.”

“On what authority?”

“On my own authority.”

“Just like your authority to order outside testing of unauthorized samples that you acquired? White, I am sick and tired of your … infatuation with Alex Thompson. If you want to fuck the man, go fuck the man! Just don’t spend my money doing it!”

The pig! I can hear chortles coming from the other men in the room. There’s nothing but men in the room, not even a waitress when you would expect one instead of a waiter. I’m standing on the other side of the glass ceiling and no one is taking me seriously! Even Hinkle is only looking to use me if I can advance him past Lawson. It would serve these bastards right if Thompson does show up and … waiter?

OH GOD! My breath catches in my throat as I desperately look around the room, searching for the waiter. He’s standing in the corner, his back to the table, looking out the tall windows at the spectacular view of Central Park. His hands are behind his back, untying the apron.

It’s him! I can tell. The hair, those shoulders, the taper of the upper body down to that narrow waist and unbearably cute butt. What seconds ago was a servile attitude is now a commanding one and he hasn’t spoken yet. He hasn’t even turned around!

“Donna,” he says, his voice filling the room. “I’m glad you were able to get here before the lock down.” He raises his right hand and gives it a little twist. The doors to the room slam shut.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

Keeping low profiles, all four of us continue to work in the lobby while workers begin to trickle out of the stairwell, swelling the crowd in the lobby. The elevators have shut down, as planned. It’s getting harder to see Pegues and Johnathyn. The guard left his desk and approaches the front door. The two women who were trying to open it step aside. He first pulls the handle twice then checks to see if electric lock is engaged.

“What the hell is going on?” he mutters.

The guard struggles to open the front doors but is having no luck. There is a small crowd of people standing inside by the door and another gathering outside. A woman I recognize forces her way to the top of the steps and pushes the intercom button.

“I’m Captain Ridgeway with the Winthrop Group. What’s going on?”

The guard pushes his button. “Damned if I know. This door just shut and I can’t get the electronic lock to budge. Manual override doesn’t kick in. The elevators are out but we’ve still got power. Phones aren’t working, not even cell phones. Even the emergency exits won’t open and that shouldn’t be possible!”

I catch Johnathyn’s eye from across the room. We smile and nod at each other. Pegues isn’t smiling.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Who ARE you?” demanded Lawson.

I don’t answer right away. I’m reveling in the level of the belief in magic inside this building. It’s strong outside but inside, with all the people trapped, it’s almost intoxicating. It’s minimal compared to the smallest village in the other world but it’s enormous for this world. Well, time to get to work. I turn to face the Board of the Consortium. And invited guests.

“Come on, Lawson. Use that Harvard education of yours. After all the warnings Donna White gave you, you still don’t know? No wonder the company’s going down the toilet.”

“Alex Thompson, no doubt.”

I bow theatrically. “At your service. Well … not really, I just always wanted to say that.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Magic. How else? Not buying it, huh? Okay. I picked the lock to the door on the roof, came down through the floor above this one, entered the back door to the kitchenette by the Service Elevator and convinced the caterer that I had been hired to serve today.”

“How did you get to the roof in the first place?”

“That one was magic. I jumped from the top of the apartment complex next door.”

“Bullshit!” one of Board members exclaims.

“No, it’s true but believe me or not, I’m here now.”

“What is it you want from us?” asks Lawson.

“Excellent question, Lawson! Straight to the point! I’ll make my reply short and simple.”

They had a laptop and LCD projector set up for a presentation so I walk over, turn everything on and insert a flash drive into the USB port of the laptop. Everything loads quickly so I begin the PowerPoint presentation, snapping my fingers to advance the slides.

“Gentlemen. I’ve read all the memos, all the emails. You know, or think you know, who I am and who I was in the other world. Alexia, the witch Queen. I killed my predecessor, Opulessa, and a few others. I know that some of you here today have military backgrounds and that you’ve killed people yourselves, all in the line of duty, of course. It changes you when you kill another person. Others don’t understand that.”

Some of the men nod their heads slightly. They know.

“I also know that the loss of the other world as a resource has practically crippled this company. Lawson put too many eggs in one basket and then I took away the basket. Not good planning, Lawson. I also know what you all have done to hide this fact from Wall Street and your shareholders.”

All the time I’ve been talking, I’ve been displaying copies of all the documents I’ve been referring to, with highlighted sections. Nothing stays on the screen long enough to read in full but long enough for them to recognize that I have the goods.

Lawson is clearly angry but he’s kept it in check, even when I pick at him personally. I let a few more documents roll by without comment before he’s had enough.

“Yes, yes. You know all our secrets. That’s what you do, isn’t it, illegally break into computer systems. Steal proprietary information. I believe you are still wanted by both the New York police and the FBI. Perhaps we should call them right now?”

“Go ahead. Give it a whirl.”

He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me. I push the phone sitting on the table towards him. He picks up the handset and pushes the button for an open line but nothing happens. He tries another line but still nothing. He tries all the lines repeatedly before finally hanging up.

“It’s dead” he says, stating the obvious.

“As are all the cell phones.”

Immediately, every man in the room and White go for their phones, digging them from pants pockets, off belt clips or out of suit coat pockets. I give them a few moments to confirm the truth.

“How did you do this?” asks Stewart Hinkle, the CFO.

“You know, Stew. Magic. This whole building is locked down. Every door, every floor, every elevator. No ones moving until we’re done today.”

“So what the hell do you want?!” shouts one of the Board.

“Just one more set of documents and I’ll tell you. Some, but not all of you, are also aware that Lawson hired the Winthrop Group to kill my mother and brother. It took me a long time to find the proof of that but I got it.”

I let those documents stay on the screen longer for the benefit of those who hadn’t seen them.

“So here’s the deal, boys. I’m going back to the other world. I’ve got business to take care of. You can be part of that business. If we reach an agreement, I’ll reopen that world to the Consortium.”

That statement was greeted by optimistic murmurs.

“What’s the catch?” asked Lawson. “What is this going to cost us?”

“Likely less than before, certainly in direct payments.”

“How is that possible? You think you’ve killed off the people you’d otherwise need to bribe?”

“You might be right there, Lawson, but I’m looking for a different kind of deal. You won’t need to bribe inspectors or any other authorities because I’m giving you a completely free hand except for a couple of things. No debt labor of any kind. You pay competitive wages. Also, no Eminent Domain. You want land, you pay for it. Market rates.”

“And what do you get?”

“Me personally? Nothing. Whatever the Government gets will be in kind, primarily medical supplies and equipment to start but that will change over time, at least I hope. Oh, I forgot to mention, no Winthrop Group. You use our security, you don’t get your own army and we don’t want your guns, thank you very much. I’m going to do my best to get rid of the ones we already have.”

“No guns?” Lawson sneers. “Isn’t that a bit idealistic?”

“I didn’t say ‘no guns.’ I said none of your guns. There’s plenty of home grown stuff to go around. They need them. You should see what they call a wolf. I’d use a rocket propelled grenade on one of those things.”

Some of the Board members are actually smiling. They don’t find this offer to be too bad. In fact, it could be better for them than the first time around.

“What else?” asks Hinkle. “There’s always something else.”

“You’re right” I reply. I snap my fingers and four photos appear on the screen. “I’m sure you all recognize the first gentleman, you’re beloved leader, Lawson over there. Lawson was the one who ordered the deaths of my family. The second man is, or was, First Minister Dupree, appointed leader of the government of Queen Opulessa. He’s the man who requested my family be killed. The other two are the Winthrop Group employees who actually did the job. One drove the car that ran them down and the other was the getaway driver. Frankly, I’m not certain who did what. Doesn’t really matter. As for the something else that Mr. Hinkle asked about …”

I pause and scan the room. There’s a lot of nervous people sitting around the table but Lawson isn’t one of them. We’ll see about that.

“… Ms. White’s report concerning what I did about First Minister Dupree is accurate if lacking in detail. For those who haven’t read that report, Ms. White, would you please tell the Board what I did to the man who requested that my family be killed?”

She was still standing near Lawson, the same place she was when I introduced myself to the Board. She squares her shoulders and faces the table.

“Certainly. You turned him into a pig. A little pink squealing pig.”

“Things always go better with bacon no matter where you are,” I add.

A few of the Board are horrified. They likely didn’t know. Others look sick but not surprised. They knew.

“The exact fates of the other three I leave to this Board’s discretion. My minimum requirement is life in prison without parole. If the Board wishes to be less tolerant, that’s up to them. A death sentence is always an option, either public or private, but as long as Lawson and his hired killers at least spend the rest of their lives in jail, the Consortium can return to my world and bankruptcy is avoided.” I smile. “It seems like a small price to pay.”

Lawson stands up.

“If you think for a moment that I am willingly going to jail for life, you are out of your fucking mind!”

“I was so hoping you’d say that, Mr. Lawson,” I say, brightly. I reach out with my open right hand and then slowly close it. As my fingers curl into my palm, Lawson, grunts in pain, his eyes wide with shock. He clutches at his chest, coughing and gagging several times before collapsing to the floor as my hand closes tightly into a fist. No one takes a step towards him to help in any way. Good.

“What did you do to him?” demands Hinkle.

“I stopped his heart. He’s not dead. Yet. It’s surprisingly simple to interrupt the electrical signals which trigger the muscle contractions that drive the beating of the heart. He’s got about two minutes before brain damage begins. So, do we have a deal? I don’t care how you guys do it. You can pay them to go to jail, hire a hit man, draw straws; it’s all cool with me. Just so you know, if we don’t reach a deal, I’m giving all those emails and memos to the media. You may have influence over The Wall Street Journal but the tabloid press will just eat this up. So will the SEC. I also don’t restart Lawson’s heart. I realize that it would make life a lot easier for you to blame a dead man for all the wrong doing but I couldn’t let that happen. As I said, it’s surprisingly easy to stop a heart, even several at one time. What’s your decision, guys?”

The smell of panic is getting stronger by the second. I’ve just threatened their fortunes, their freedom and their lives in less than twenty seconds. I’ve taken away their leader and put his life at risk, though I don’t really think they like him very much. No one rushed to help him when he dropped to the floor. Still, it’s tough to watch a man die before your eyes, particularly when you could be next. There’s a lot of shouting but there’s also hurried discussions taking place. Hinkle seems to be at the center of most of it. After about fifty seconds, he waives his arms and shouts “QUIET! QUIET! EVERYONE PLEASE!”

The room falls silent. Hinkle takes charge.

“Mr. Thompson. I want to be certain about your offer. We get sole, unlimited access to your world but we will have to hire employees at local wage rates and if we want to buy or rent land, we pay the market rates. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“In addition, we do not have to bribe any local authorities.”

“I guarantee it. Someone demands a bribe, you tell me and I’ll handle it.”

“And you want nothing but medical supplies?”

“Right now. There could be other things, mostly technology related, but no weapons. Probably plumbing supplies too. I’d like the Palace to have flush toilets.”

“And no troops on the ground.”

“Absolutely correct.”

“What about environmental and labor regulations?”

“None whatsoever. Water quality, air quality, your call. No inspectors. No rules.”

“However, if there is no agreement, you turn us all in to the SEC and release our documents to the media.”

“Yep.”

“And possibly take vengeance against more than Lawson and the two Winthrop Group employees.”

“That and let Lawson die in the next thirty seconds.”

“Of course.” He turns to face the Board Members. “I don’t really see any other choice, gentlemen. The company desperately needs access to those resources and we also need to avoid any bad publicity and possible civil and criminal penalties. It’s clear from those documents that other people were aware of the plans for the deaths of those poor innocent people, though those revelations today were shocking to me. I move that we accept Mr. Thompson’s offer.”

“I second that motion,” says a Board member who’s name was on the distribution list for the memos about the deaths of my family.

“Any discussion?” asks Hinkle. No one makes a move. “Then I call the question. A show of hands please, all in favor?” All hands go up. “All opposed?” No hands. Hinkle extends his hand towards me. “I believe we have an agreement, Mr. Thompson.” I take his hand firmly in mine and shake it as Lawson begins to cough and gasp for air.

“I hope we have a long and profitable relationship, Mr. Hinkle.”

“As do I, Mr. Thompson.”

We both look down at Lawson as he pushes himself up into a sitting position with his left hand while he rubs his chest with his right.

“What the hell happened to me?” he groans as people begin to gather round him. No one offers him a hand up. “What’s going on?” he shakily demands, desperation clear on his face.

I reach into my pant’s pocket and remove the radio I had used this morning. I push the talk button.

“Come on up,” I order. The radio beeps, confirming receipt of my message. I drop it back into my pocket and bend down closer to Lawson. “Looks like you’ve been sold down the river, Lawson.”

“What?”

“While you were out, your Board accepted my offer.”

“That’s impossible! I’m the Chairman and the Chief Executive Officer! Nothing happens here without my approval!”

“Maybe they need to make some changes?” I suggest, glancing at Hinkle. He catches my look and nudges the Board member who seconded his motion with an elbow. The man quickly cleared his throat.

“ Aakkhhmm. I move that we accept the resignation of Terence Lawson as Chief Executive Officer and Chairman of the Board of the Consortium.”

“Seconded!” shouts someone at the back of the room.

“What a minute!” screams Lawson. “I haven’t …”

“Call the question!” shouts another voice.

“The question has been called,” says Hinkle’s friend. “All in favor?” The hands fire into the air. “All opposed?” The hands drop like the blade of a guillotine.

Hinkle is elected to the CEO and Chairman positions just as quickly despite Lawson’s loud but ignored protests. As the Board congratulates Hinkle, Lawson sits by himself off to the side of the room, head in his hands.

“Looks like you’ve been abandoned, Lawson,” I observe.

He slowly looks up at me. “Why?” he whispers.

“You really have to ask? You killed my family!”

“But it wasn’t personal. It was just business.”

I’m appalled. “And that makes it okay? You can kill people if you can justify it on the balance sheet?”

“Better that than by some stupid drive by shooting. At least someone profits from the deaths. I am responsible for the jobs of thousands of people. Your family’s deaths increased the profits of this corporation, improving the lives of those thousands of people, growing the economy. They accomplished more in death than they ever would have during their pitiful, useless lives.”

He’s making this too easy. “Increasing the value of your stock options, no doubt.”

“And what is wrong with that? I make the decisions, I should reap the benefits.”

“And the losses. I guess you should be happy to know that your death will also benefit the corporation. Congratulations! You’ve been promoted to cannon fodder. Enjoy.”

“Don’t be so damned smug, Thompson. You go back over there and become Queen, you’ll end up doing exactly what I did. You’ll be deciding who lives and who dies for the good of the country. That assumes you give a damn about that universe. Then it’ll be who lives or dies to benefit you.”

“That may be true, Lawson, but I won’t be killing innocent people.”

Lawson grins maniacally. “There are no innocent people, Thompson,” he guffaws. “The sooner you learn that, the easier your life will be. It was a revelation that changed mine.”

I can imagine. This bastard is nuts! Bat shit crazy! I’m done with him. I return my attention to Hinkle as he approaches me.

“When can we put out agreement into effect? We need access to those resources as soon as possible.”

“Well it won’t be instantaneous. There are a few wrinkles I need to iron out when I get back before you can return.”

“This won’t help us if we go bankrupt before you ‘iron out’ those wrinkles. Nor will it help you.”

“I understand but you need to understand that this isn’t a slam dunk.”

“What happens if you can’t deliver, Thompson?”

“Then I take you all down with me, Hinkle.”

“That’s why it makes sense to send the Winthrop Group back.”

“No, because I don’t want them and they can’t help, not in the long run.”

“In the long run, we’re all dead. I need results now.”

“Tough shit. If I can’t work things out over there, you’re not going back anytime soon anyway. I’m your best bet. You live up to your end and I’ll live up to mine.”

There’s a knock on the Board room double doors. Good timing. I sweep my hand to the left and the doors swing open.

“Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my representative in this universe. This is my good friend and ally, Mirantha Pegues.”

Pegues is still dressed in her gardener disguise but she immediately crosses the room and grabs Hinkle’s hand.

“I look forward to working with you, Sir.”

Hinkle eyes her warily. “Are you from … over there?”

“Yes, indeed I am, but I’ve spent quite a bit of time over here before now.”

“But, you aren’t really … I mean, you were born a … I’ve never met …” says Hinkle, stumbling over his words. I step in.

“Mirantha is a woman over here and a man over there, just as I’m a man over here and a woman over there. You get used to it. More importantly, Mirantha is extremely clever and a very good judge of character. She’s also slightly corrupt.”

“What was that?” asks Hinkle.

“She’s slightly corrupt. She has her price. She can be bribed.”

Hinkle appears confused. “Why on earth would you tell someone something like that? Why would you even want someone untrustworthy to represent you?”

“I’m not saying Mirantha is untrustworthy. We have an understanding. She’s human, just like anyone else. She has her weaknesses and strengths. Her strengths are intelligence and a devious mind. She can smell a con a mile away. She also has a weakness for the finer things in life and a willingness to bend the rules in order to get them. Bend the rules, not break them. I know that you and your people will test her as soon as I’m gone so I might as well be upfront about it. Mirantha will only go so far because she knows what I will and won’t stand for. She also knows what happens if she crosses that line.”

“What happens?” he asks.

“Terrible things,” Mirantha answers. “Inconceivable things. Unavoidable things.”

“You see, Hinkle,” I say. “I’d rather have a smart crook watching my interest than a foolish honest man. With the crook, I know I’ll lose a little bit but with the honest man, I could lose it all.”

“Why not hire a smart honest man?”

“Good luck finding that combination. You usually get a crook who’s smart enough to appear to be an honest man. I’ll go for the sure thing with Mirantha. As for your representative over there, I understand that it’s your choice, one hundred percent your choice. I wouldn’t think to tell you who to select.”

“But?”

“I think Donna White and I have a good working relationship.”

“Like hell we do!” White protests. “You threatened to kill all of us!”

“And you let Dupree try to kill me. I don’t hold it against you. We know where we stand with each other. That would take time we don’t have to spare with someone new.”

“I will consider your suggestion, Mr. Thompson.”

“That’s all I can expect, Mr. Hinkle. Do we need to put this in writing?”

“For what purpose? Neither of us can take it to court for enforcement. We will need to trust each other to comply.”

“Trust. An interesting concept in these circumstances. Tell ya’ what. In the spirit of trust and openness, I’ll let you in on a little secret. You and your people would likely have figured it out yourselves eventually but this way, we save time and maybe some lives.”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Thompson?”

“Didn’t you think it was strange that I was agreeing to give the Consortium a free hand on environmental issues? Given my history?”

“I treated it as a gift horse.”

“It wasn’t. I’ve decided that the best way to protect my world and people from environmental abuse is to make you, your Board and your families’ breathe the same air and drink the same water as found in your mines and other projects.”

The Board members begin to loudly object. Hinkle waives them into silence. He turns to confront me.

“You can’t do that, Thompson!”

“When you say ‘I can’t,’ are you saying that I shouldn’t or that I’m incapable? If you’re saying I shouldn’t, you’re wrong. It’s equality for all. You get treated just as you treat others. It’s all in your hands. You control it completely. You give them a pristine workplace, you get a pristine workplace. And home. You give them a cesspool, that’s what you get too. As far as my ability to deliver, I suggest you open one of those sealed bottles of water.”

Hinkle slowly reaches out with his left hand, picking an unopened bottle off the table next to him. He grabs the cap with his right hand, first cracking the seal then removing the cap. The room quickly fills with a sulfurous, eye watering odor. Hinkle screws the cap back on but the foul air remains as some of the Board members begin to cough.

“What, in God’s name, is that?” Hinkle demands.

“That is the water that was flowing out of your mine at Shellcrest.” I hold out my hand towards Mirantha. She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out two air filter masks. We both quickly pull them over our mouths and noses. “This is what the air was like during full production.”

Instantly, the room becomes dark and murky, filled with thick, choking smoke. Everyone in the room begins to gag and cough, doubled over and gasping for non-existent air. Even my eyes begin to water and I’m wearing a mask. I let it go on for a few more seconds and then I clear the air. The coughing continues but begins to lessen as the men recover. I remove my mask.

“I can fill the air and water around each and every one of you with the pollutants but hide the odor and color. The workers in this building, your families, your respective mistresses, yourselves will all eat, drink and breathe this crap without even being aware of it. However, you take good care of my world and my subjects, we’re cool. This is not subject to negotiation, this is how it is. You come to my world, you hire my people, you take my resources; you’ll reap what you sow. You don’t come, fine. I release my info to the media; maybe I make the same offer to one of your competitors.”

Lawson begins to laugh, quietly at first but quickly grows louder. Hinkle grows tired of it.

“What is so damn funny, Lawson?” he demands.

“Not such a good deal after all, is it Hinkle? Life’s not so easy at the top, particularly when you have such big shoes to fill. You’ve destroyed this company!”

“Unlike you, of course. This is your mess, Lawson. I’m just cleaning it up the best way possible.” He reaches down and pushes a button on the phone system console but there’s no response. He looks at me. “Are the damn elevators working?”

I flick my wrist. “They are now.”

He pushes the button again. This time there’s a response.

“Yes, Sir! Is everyone up there okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine. Send security up here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Lawson is no longer laughing.

“Stewart, listen to me! This is our last chance to save this company, to save all our lives! You’ve got to have Security take them into custody! You’ve got to call the Winthrop Group and get an Assault Team over here NOW! It’s the only choice!”

I get up into his face.

“Do you really think that any of them would stand a chance against me, Lawson?”

He starts to swing at me but collapses before completing the punch.

“Mirantha. A little help?” I ask.

We each grab an arm, lift him off the floor and drop him in a chair. Mirantha removes her apron and I remove the ties, using them to bind Lawson’s wrists and forearms to the armrests, then I restart his heart. His head jerks upright, eyes blinking.

“Hinkle, Pegues and I are leaving. I’ll let you know when you can bring your people back to my world. I assume that I won’t need to kill anyone as I leave, present company not excluded.”

“None of our people will try to stop you, Thompson. Just make certain you keep your part of our bargain.”

“That’s the plan.”