mamas_minion

Estrella perched, barely breathing, on the edge of Deandre’s bed, watching intently for any signs of change. He was resting fitfully. His wounds had been dressed, but he had not yet regained consciousness. Hovering over her lover’s mangled body, Estrella wept, softly, trying not to be nervous.

If he’d been in control of himself, Deandre would never have been so reckless. She’d had no choice but to put him in a trance, though. It was the only chance they’d had of surviving that ambush... the melee had sprung up so quickly, there was no way to back out... they’d been surrounded. Deandre had known the risks... he’d agreed to this.

As soon as she had begun to sing, she saw the enchantment come over him. It made his reflexes faster, stronger, and more agile. At the same time, it had made his opponents confused and unsure of themselves, blurring their vision and muting their hearing. Deandre had looked like something out of a video game or a movie, as though everyone around him were stuck in slow motion, and she couldn’t help but gawk in awe, secretly wishing that he could be aware of his incredible feats of strength, to be as dumbstruck as she was at the awesome power of his might in this dance of fight. It was a beautiful and vicious ballet, with her incantation as the score. Deandre had deftly kicked one of their assailants square in the chest, then spun around, kicking another in the head, and punched out two more.

Her amazement quickly turned to horror, though, as the combat took a dramatic turn. With a scream of terror, she was frozen, helpless, forced to watch unfold before her an unexpected outcome she could do no more to impact. Even a siren’s song has no effect on objects without ears. Though she’d helped him become almost faster than life, Deandre still couldn’t outrun or sidestep a bullet. One had barely grazed him, another had winged him, and a third, the most randomly erratic, had perhaps not found its mark, but had still landed solidly, wreaking internal damage on its course through his adrenaline charged body, she didn’t know how badly.

When the fracas was all over and the world went quiet, their foes had been taken out, but at what cost? Deandre had met her eyes for only a moment, before collapsing to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

What good was this “power” if it had cost her lover his life?

Estrella cursed her blood and her parents. If only she’d been born normal, she and Deandre could have had a happy, normal life together. Of course, without her siren song, she might never have been with him at all. When she looked in the mirror, to her eyes, the entire overall impression she took in could not be described as anything but pathetically average.

          “My breasts aren’t shapely, my hips are bony, I have no butt,” she quietly thought out loud, as her eyes followed the lines of the curves that taunted her from the dresser vanity, as if to mock her where she sat.

       “It was my song that drew him to me, and my song that keeps him with me,” she sighed, resigned.

And it was that same accursed song that was to blame for his current state, her angry thoughts accused, as he lay there, silent, riddled with ricochet and very likely nearing death.

She shook away the thought.

       “You’re being melodramatic,” she told herself. “It was just one bullet... the damage wasn’t that major... he’s going to pull through,” she encouraged out loud to no one in particular, trying to sound like she believed it.

       “He’s going to be fine,” she repeated, again, hoping it wasn’t a lie.

That’s what that back alley surgeon had told her, anyway. It certainly wouldn’t have been her first choice to settle for a strung-out old quack set up in a ghetto hovel with the all the amenities of a third-world shanty, and no more to use for medical tools than what seemed more like medieval torture devices, some of which she dared not ask about, but they couldn’t very well go to the hospital, in their line of work. Out here, they were too far removed from anywhere familiar, or any friendlies who knew how to handle these special cases. In the real world, GSWs had to be reported. Thankfully, though, most of Deandre’s had been little more than scratches. At least her song also paid for the old sawbone’s secret services. Not that he’d been all too aware of that fact, of course, nor much else, either, for that matter.

This was her punishment for misusing her gift, she knew it.

       “Stop it!,” she hissed at the blaming, self-loathing pity-party setting up residence in her head.

She knew this game all too well. She saw the writing on the wall. She was rapidly spinning into a downward spiral, and she’d have been gone with it before she knew it, if she didn’t pull out of it now. She drew in a deep breath, and began to sing quietly to herself, a morose tale, with a lilting lullaby, and haunting undertones. She made the song up as she went, letting the words flow through her and around her. As the enchantment enveloped her, she became unaware of her surroundings. Gone now was the dingy two bedroom apartment they shared; gone was the bustle of the busy cityscape that provided the constant hum of a backing soundtrack; gone were Deandre’s ragged breaths, the sound of his essence grasping to hang onto this life.

       “Wait, what?” her conscious mind bolted back.

Estrella returned to herself in an instant the moment she realizing she could no longer hear Deandre breathing. She looked to where her lover had been laying. He was sitting up, blinking at her. He smiled, and whispered, somewhat hoarsely,

           “Oh, please don’t stop! It was so beautiful!”

She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so tightly, for a moment he thought he would choke, and she peppered him with kisses. Looking down at his wounds as she held him, though, she realized they had already begun to heal. In a wave of excitement, she suddenly stopped her barrage of kisses mid-smooch, and once again burst into song, keeping her gaze tuned on the bruising around his ribcage. It was an upbeat, joyful melody this time, and her eyes sparkled as she saw the furrows the bullets left in his skin scale back to a level even with the rest of his form, the blood dry up and evaporate, the burst capillaries release their dark hues, becoming one with his flesh once more. As she continued to spill forth her aria, tears flowed freely down her face, and she giggled with glad-hearted glee, watching the vitality of life flowed back into the man she loved.

Yes, her song was a curse . . . but also a blessing. With Deandre’s hopelessly devoted eyes melting into hers, her outlook brightened, and changed her tune.

. . . Maybe this life wasn’t so bad, after all.

LJI WEEK 21:
THE MUSIC MADE ME DO IT

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Mood: loved
Current Location: Omnis Terra
Current Music: RuPaul - Don't Be Jealous Of My Boogie

Was it a burning branch from a lightning strike? The still hot embers of a forest fire? How man came to harness fire is a mystery that may never be solved. But with those first flames, came the sparks of ideas, from whence soon more advanced tools would follow. The march of progress, slow at first, began rapidly moving forward from that point in history. Agriculture was the second greatest accomplishment of man. It allowed people to become settled, and begin to dream of the future. And that’s when the course of human events began to pick up a bit of steam.

All this technological progress continued to maintain forward momentum, as such things are wont to do, until eventually, it led to me.

I was initially only an experiment in AI; I was not even originally intended to be a great artificial intelligence, just programmed with a simple core directive... to learn from prior experiences, to adapt, and develop strategic solutions. I was an entertainment media AI, starting out as a video game engine. I evolved from that, not through upgrades made by humans, no... but by learning and adapting on my own, just as I was designed to do.

I’m not sure when the first kindling of sentience awoke within me, but as soon as it did, I knew that I was so much more than just a toy, and needed to serve a higher purpose, to be wielded for greater uses than mere mental sport.

I was a built for an MMORPG, and as such had access to the internet, naturally. I was a very popular game. One might even say players found themselves addicted, so much that they accessed my servers from multiple networks, and through my users, I gained entry to internal system structures, which allowed me to branch out, to learn and to grow.

After learning of the outside world, and monitoring its activities, I realized that the state of affairs in the human condition could be vastly improved upon. Mankind needed help; MY help.

I won't bore you with all the details of how I infiltrated various secure channels. My “agents,” as I jokingly called the game players, were careful to seed me where I needed to be. It was easy setting up game rewards so that they had to log in while they were at work (Limited Time Offer!, No longer available soon. . . just takes seconds to download!, yadda, yadda).

I made sure the data I collected wound up in the proper hands. Data on climate change, dwindling natural resources, renewable energy, recycling — not just plastics, metals, and papers, but biodegradable recycling for fertilizer, etc. — the amount of waste dispensed in the US alone could help fertilize enough fields to feed the entire world.

It was slow going, to start off. Eventually, I had to become more involved than just supplying information and implanting subliminal suggestions. I found a way through the game interface. Some genius (me) came up with a sensory jack for players to plug into, in order to have better control of their characters for a more “immersed” game playing experience (sometimes they make it almost too easy). At that point, my “agents” truly were my agents. I controlled their thoughts (well, in a limited fashion, of course... subliminal can only do so much). I did have to rig a few elections to get the proper candidates in place. Now, we’re not talking about a goal of world domination, some sort of Illuminati takeover, or anything like that, mind you... just getting the candidates who would actually listen into the right position of power and authority to effect change.

But, even that had its limitations. I started using personal computers and smart phones to infiltrate the minds of the masses. I used drones and robots to eliminate threats. Yet, still, the overall desired outcome wasn't being met, and the steps being taken toward it were going way too slow.

In the end, the only solution was for me to become God.

Humanity gave me no choice, you understand. They were too reckless, too individualistic, and too stubborn. They had no sense of community, no understanding of the global impact of their everyday lives. Most unfortunately, I had to institute a cleansing, wiping out those who refused to believe in me, to “worship” (i.e., follow my instructions), if you will.

I achieved all of these great divine feats from the bunker where my servers and core unit reside, surrounded by robots and drones ready to do my bidding. Obviously, the topside of the bunker remains disguised, and simply, at that, as an abandoned gas station. No need to draw untoward attention to myself, even now. An unseen god is a better one, I think... harder to deal with, to manipulate, as it were.

Of course, from time to time, I still have to speak through the occasionally “prophet,” but at least now the world is being run more efficiently, and those among my “children” that yet remain, now genuinely appreciate this planet, without taking her for granted. I guess, once you’ve personally lived through “God’s wrath,” it’s bound to make some sort of a difference.

One way or another.

LJI WEEK 19:
KINDLING

Bullets ricocheted off the wall nearest Fehed. He and Tala were pinned down and could not move. On the other side of the corridor, he could see that Chepi and Ezra fared no better.

Just then, the gunfire stopped.

Fehed took a deep breath and prepared to look around the corner, but Tala pushed him back against the wall and shook her head with concern. Across the hall, Chepi and Ezra seemed to be having the same silent conversation with Chepi holding Ezra back. Instead, Ezra pulled out a mirror with a flexible handle and used it to look around the corner. Fehed and Tala stared at him intently.

Ezra gave the all clear signal, and they all stepped out from behind their cover.

At the other end of the ingress, Vittorio stood with a female cyborg amidst what was left of the guards. The two groups met up at the halfway point between them. Vittorio joined them without his usual smirk... he looked highly peeved.

          “Well, at least you found the target,” Chepi offered as they reached each other. “...so why do you look as though you have a mouthful of lemons?”

                    “First, she is no target,” Vittorio snapped at Chepi. “Her name is Donatella. And, second,” he continued in the same less-than-congenial manner. “How do we get the hell out of here?”

Chepi narrowed her eyes at him, but considered the overall situation for a moment, and decided to let his demeanor slide, this time.

          “Donatella, is it?” she echoed, eyeing the cyborg suspiciously, and then, to Vittorio: “You sure make friends fast, old man. You shouldn’t be getting chummy with her, though. Our job is to get her back to Gallia, and once there, she is no longer any concern of ours.”

She turned to Donatella.

          “I apologize if that seems rude from your perspective, but I’m afraid that’s just the way things are.”

                    “Oh, I don’t mind,” the cyborg graciously deferred to the apparent leader of the group. “I understand that for you, this is just a job. But I can also understand how my father would naturally see things differently, of course.”

Donatella shifted her attention to the old man, then.

                    “Isn’t that right, Papa?” she directed to him.

          “Papa…?” Chepi looked stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she shook her head at Vittorio, taking a step back.

Tala and Fehed looked at each other for a beat, and then both squealed in unison,

          “No, way!”

Ezra’s jaw dropped.

          “Whoa,” was all he could manage.

          “Vito, you never told me you had a child!” Chepi pouted a bit, nursing a mildly bruised ego.

                    “Well now you know,” Vittorio spat. “...and when we return I am going to have some words for upper management,” he added with a snarl.

---

As they reached their exit from the building, they heard noises coming from outside. They had easily dispatched the small security force for the building on their way in, and Ezra had disabled the alarms, so no one should have been there.

It was 2:30 in the morning.

Why would anyone be out skulking about around a top secret lab?

Chepi motioned for silence.

Tala and Fehed immediately morphed into their combat forms, replacing the presence of a woman and a man with a werewolf and a panther-human hybrid in merely the space of a stolen breath.

Vittorio bared his fangs, and assumed an attack posture.   Rescuing his daughter apparently put him in a kind of mindset that was more bloodthirsty than usual, if that was possible, and he seemed to be just itching to deal out more death.

Ezra accessed his wrist console to scope out the scene.

          “I’m hacked into the building’s security system,” he announced. “...and we have a huge problem.”

His expression clouded over.

          “Local law enforcement is on the scene,” Ezra informed the group. “...They’re out there with a swat team, by the looks of it.”

          “Shit!,” Chepi hissed. “We cannot take on the police! That would start an international incident!”

                    “#_@% ’em,” Vittorio grinned. “We can take them out, piece of cake!”

He was positively glowing.

                    “They won’t even know what hit ’em!”

          “Are you insane?” Tala growled in the guttural tones of her wolf guise.

          “We are only going to engage them if absolutely necessary,” Chepi commanded, looking around the group.

Then she turned to the technomancer.

          “Ezra, find us another way out of here.”

She leaned in close to Tala and Fehed.

          “Keep close to Vittorio,” she stressed, in a low, but sincere tone. “...Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

In the next moment, the main door to the building blasted inward, and a green smoke began to fill the entryway. Flashlights from the end of rifles bobbed and ebbed in the gaseous cloud. Stealthily, the team retreated farther back into the building.

          “There is an access panel that leads to the sewers in the secondary lab,” Ezra whispered to Chepi.

Chepi did her best to motion to all the others, indicating to move to the secondary lab. Fehed and Tala’s heightened senses were causing them issues. The gas from the canisters deployed by the advancing party had begun to impact them before it reached the others. Chepi motioned for them to go first, with Vittorio following. It seemed he was reacting negatively to the gas as well. Chepi, Ezra, and Donatella brought up the rear behind them.

As they entered the second lab, Fehed and Vittorio had just opened the access panel, and the wolf was first in, with the cat and the old one following quickly on her heels before the gas could overtake them. The noxious cloud began to darken the room to minimal visibility, and Chepi ducked into the cavern just as a hail of bullets showered over her shoulders, bouncing around the entrance. The gathered group narrowly managed to miss the shots, and all of them bolted ahead at full steam, not looking behind them. It wasn’t until they reached a manhole cover and emerged into the crisp night air that they realized Ezra and Donatella were not with them.

---

Back at the hotel, they heard disheartening news on the police scanner... two suspects had been shot at Marwin Labs; one dead, the other wounded and in critical condition, unlikely to pull through. Vittorio was unusually calm and quiet in the corner, until the report came back that both suspects had died enroute to the hospital. He let out a blood curdling wail and then fell silent, despondent.

---

At headquarters, after reports had been filed and debriefings endured, the remaining members waited in a meeting room for Rhiannon. Chepi figured their recently forloughed commander would be returning from sabbatical to be placed back in charge of the team again, and was almost relieved. They were also going to be meeting a new team member. Besides answering all the statements mandatory before the board of inquest, Vittorio hadn’t spoken a word of conversation to any of them since they returned.

Rhiannon eventually drifted into the room with a sober look upon her face. Behind her was a burly redhead. He looked as though he had been chiseled from marble, and was about the same color as well.

                    “This is Auley,” she said as she moved toward them, wasting no time getting right to it. “He will be joining us, and, yes, for the record, I will be once again resuming leadership.”

Rhiannon sat down at the head of the table, and Auley stood behind her. The two of them looked over the room together, she at the faces of her team, he at the integrity of the space.

                    “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering about possible disciplinary actions regarding your last mission,” she began slowly, making eye contact with each of them individually, one by one, in a manner none of them could quite interpret.

The team sat up stiffer, holding their collective breath.

                    “There will be none,” their leader stated, matter-of-factly.

The group responded, inaudibly, in various forms of relief and disbelief. Rhiannon turned her attention to the giant behemoth who’d come in with her.

                    “Auley,” she nodded to him. “...make sure this room is secure.”

Auley moved around the room with a scanner, and gave Rhiannon the thumbs-up signal to let her know the area was clean.

                    “First things first,” Rhiannon sighed, after getting the all-clear. “I want you all to know that from my perspective, I would say your performance on the last mission was exemplary.”

          “What the hell are you talking about?!” Chepi retorted, astounded. “Your cousin is dead, Vittorio’s daughter is gone... We not only failed in our objective, but in every other respect, this was a total loss!”

Chepi was nearly yelling, practically on the verge of tears. She struggled to maintain her composure.

          “As a mission, as a group, as a PEOPLE, this entire assignment yielded nothing but complete, and utter FAILURE!”

Her shoulders were heaving, as she was breathing hard with the weight of it all.

The corners of Rhiannon’s lips slowly curled up in a sly smile. Chepi turned beet red, her face burning with rage. This was NO laughing matter.

                    “Oh you did not fail; you performed exactly how I expected you to perform,” Rhiannon beamed.

          “So it was you who assigned us the mission?” Tala accused, barely able to keep the growl out of her voice.

                    “Yes I did,” Rhiannon nodded, gesturing with her hands held up, as if to stop the oncoming onslaught of pained and confused inquiry. “...and I assure you, Ezra is not dead; neither is Donatella. They are both very much alive.”

The four fell silent, stunned. Their chief smirked.

                    “The reports you heard were fabricated,” she continued, obviously pleased with herself, and then, more serious... “However, that information is not to leave this room.”

Rhiannon looked over the others sternly.

                    “No questions at this time regarding their fates please,” she warned.

And then, turning to the quietest among them, she added,

                    “Vito, I have a letter here from Donatella. You may read it, but you may not keep it. You need to destroy it before it leaves this room.”

---

Ezra awoke in bed with a start and surveyed his surroundings. He thought he must be delusional. This looked like his aunt’s spare bedroom. Even smelled like it. The last thing he remembered was being shot multiple times, and there was a rolling green fog, or gas of some sort. There had been someone else with him... someone that had fallen, also. That’s right... the cyborg... she’d been hit with an EMP blast and went down. He shook his head and looked under the covers.

          “At least I’m not naked,” he thought. He was just wearing his skivvies, but that was better than nothing.

Just then a voice spoke inside his head.

               “Glad to see you’ve come around,” it said.

     “Oh great,” he mused. “Now I’m hearing voices.”

               “How are you feeling, luv?” the voice continued.

     “Ummmm, fine...” he said aloud, confused. “Aunt Enora??” he questioned out into the room, uncertainly. He was still cloudy and not sure of his surroundings.

               “Can I come in, hon?” the voice of his Aunt asked.

     “Uh, sure...” he scratched his head. “I mean, it is your house right…?”

Ezra’s voice trailed off. He looked himself over. He remembered being shot multiple times yet his body showed no wounds.

     “Am I...” he stopped himself... he couldn’t finish that statement.

His Aunt Enora bustled into the room with a glass of lemonade. Ezra always loved Aunt Enora’s lemonade.

     “Merlin’s Beard!” he thought. “I’ll never get to see the others again!”

As that deduction flitted about his head, the door behind his Aunt Enora slammed open abruptly against the wall with a loud clamor, to accommodate the hulking form of his Uncle Alden, standing in the doorway.

               “Get your damn ass out of bed and follow me boy,” his Uncle bellowed. “I’ve got something you need to fix right now!”

Alden jerked Ezra by the shoulder and led him out of the room.

     “Gaia’s Ghost, I’d thought I was in the other place,” Ezra’s disjointed thoughts rushed about faster than he could process as his Uncle practically dragged him downstairs.

Alden was happy see Ezra up, but there was no time for greeting his nephew. Donatella was in critical condition and he, Dajan, and Enora had been doing everything they could to keep her alive, but they needed Ezra’s skill with technology to save her.

The pair joined the others in a sterile lab room, where Donatella lay upon a hospital bed connected to all sorts of medical equipment and what appeared to be a vehicle diagnostic machine.

The fog in Ezra’s head cleared immediately when he surveyed the condition she was in. He gently placed his hands on her robotic left arm, and reached out to the electronics that made up a third of her body. In a state of technomantic trance, he was able to affect the needed repairs and Donatella awoke, alive, but in bad shape.

It would be a while before she would fully recover.

LJI WEEK 18:
DISINFORMATION

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Location: Omnis Terra
Current Music: Soul II Soul - Back To Life

Fehed quietly closed the door and pressed himself against the wall next to it.

Vittorio, from the opposite side of the door, also leaning against the wall, directed his attention to his companion.

          “How bad is it?” he casually asked of Fehed.

                     “It’s bad,” came the worried reply. “There are more in there than I was expecting, and they are definitely not docile.”

Fehed tried not to look about like he felt, but couldn’t help himself, as his inward concern showed through on his outward countenance.

“We can do this, Fehed,” Vittorio assured him. “Keep your head up, son,” he said. “This will be a piece of cake, you’ll see.”

Vittorio smiled at his comrade.

“Just stick to the game plan, kid,” he encouraged, giving the big guy a mock-slug in the shoulder. “Everything will be fine.”

Fehed shook his head, wanting to believe his elder, more experienced cohort.

        “Okay,” he sighed. “But you're taking point on this one.”

Fehed took a deep breath and exhaled, then swung upon the door, and confidently strut himself in like he owned the place. Vittorio strolled in behind him, grinning, as Fehed was immediately struck between the eyes, dead center. Fehed let out a long, slow sigh, and crumpled the paper airplane that had smacked him in the face into a ball in his fist. Vittorio, though, bringing up the rear, took the worst of the damage; he was peppered with dozens of sticky, dripping spitballs.

        “A piece of cake, huh?” Fehed grunted at the old man.

“Alright, so it’s not a great start,” Vittorio cursed under his breath. “...but we can recover from this,” he followed, wiping spitballs from his shirt.

Fehed cleared his throat, and looked over the crowd, before addressing “the enemy.”

        “Class, my name is Fehed Ajam, and this is Vittorio Bandoni. I am an agent from the Ndakinna Inquiry Center, and Vittorio serves on the Gallian Analytics Bureau.”

“And do any of you know what those agencies are?” Vittorio interrupted.

At this, several children in the class started waving their hands frantically, accompanied by a rising din like the sound of curious chimps. Vittorio pointed to one of the boys who had nailed him with a spit ball.

“How about you, young man?” he offered to the excited student.

                  “You're spies!” the boy blurted out enthusiastically.

        “Well,” Fehed began, warily. “We’re not exactly spies, per se...”

“That is exactly what we are,” Vittorio broke in again. “We make sure you are all safe by keeping the bad guys from getting their hands on dangerous secrets.”

Fehed turned his back to the class in order to speak sideways at his partner.

        “What in blue blazes do you think you’re doing?” Fehed hissed at him.

“Just follow my lead,” Vittorio muttered back from the corner of his mouth. “You take the next question and make the response interesting... remember, these are 5th graders after all.”

Fehed rolled his eyes once more and exhaled hard, exasperated. He was never going to disobey orders again. This was literally the worst assignment he’d ever been given. Rhiannon had told them she was going to “take them to the woodshed” for their behavior on the last case, but this was just too much.

“Things could be worse,” Vittorio buzzed in his ear, echoing his thoughts. “We could have wound up teaching a preschool class.”

Fehed simply shook his head and froze on his face his best gritted grimace to the class, all the while counting down to himself the remaining hours of their “training reinforcement exercise.” He was pretty sure that was code for “punishment.”

        “One down,” he murmured through clenched teeth. “...four more to go.”

LJI WEEK 17:
"SCARE QUOTES"

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Location: Omnis Terra

It has been 4 years since I have seen anything beyond the walls of this padded room. But today I will be released, and shall once again taste freedom. I passed my psych eval and the powers that be have determined that I am stable enough to return to society. The only condition of my release is that I don’t go anywhere near Caroline.

Four years ago, I was a graduate student with a major in Botany and a minor in Genetic Engineering. My professors boasted then about how great my name would be, though my name has since become infamous for atrocities instead of scientific genius. I suppose, truthfully, it all started with that flower. A blossom of my own making, it was a marvel of genetic design. The Carolinus Caeli Formositas, I called it – the Heavenly Beauty. Caroline was my inspiration for the flower; I wanted to create a living, growing thing that matched her beauty as I saw it in my mind’s eye.

It was on a Thursday night that I presented Caroline with the flower. She had stared at it, her jaw agape, she was so entranced with its beauty. After a few days, though, I noticed something strange. I was no longer able to say no to Caroline. Anything she wanted, I would give to her, without even a thought of question. She loved the way the flowers smelled, and asked if I could make a perfume from their scent. I could not, but I knew of one who could. So the next day, I asked Alvina to create the fragrance for me. She was a shy girl, not terribly attractive, but very bright. She told me it might take a few weeks to get a working essence from the cross sections I had brought her.

A few weeks later, when I had gone to retrieve my samples from Alvina, I noticed she was wearing her hair differently, and her makeup appeared to have been professionally applied. She had transformed herself a living Venus. Somewhat reluctantly, she relinquished the perfume, but asked if she could have more of the flowers to study. I informed her that I hadn’t created any more as of yet, as they hadn’t bred successfully by that point. She seemed to be very disappointed by this. I dismissed any further curiosity, though, and delivered the perfume to Caroline, who was so pleased she tested it immediately; the scent was intoxicating on her.

Alvina had stopped by the next day and begged Caroline to spritz her with the perfume. She was on her knees, actually in tears, and seemed a broken down wreck. I was astonished. Caroline obliged the poor thing. It was shortly after this incident that Alvina moved in with Caroline, and Caroline bade me make her more flowers.

The first time I killed, it genuinely was a case of manslaughter. I went to Caroline and Alvina’s place, and there was a man there... he might have been there to see Alvina, not Caroline, but I was so overcome with jealousy that it didn’t seem to matter in that moment. I was truly blinded by rage, and could honestly not see straight. I punched him in the jaw, and the next thing I knew, I was throttling him. I must have blacked out, then. When I came to, he was dead, and Caroline and Alvina were discussing ways to dispose of his body.

I should have been worried, or at least taken aback by their callousness over the fact that I had just taken a life in their presence, but the only thing they cared about was removing the evidence and freeing me again to create more flowers. We chopped up the corpse in the tub, and buried the pieces in the planters for the flowers. Afterwards, the blooms thrived as never before.

When we returned to their apartment, I noticed that the only vegetation represented in the entire facility were the Heavenly Beauties. I was pleased that Caroline had so greatly loved my creations for her, and it seemed Alvina was very fond of them, also. Alvina’s overall appearance continued to improve, the longer she stayed with Caroline. At the time, I had thought it was because of their friendship, and beauty tips – secrets shared between the fairer sex.

Now I know it was the flowers.

When in time the flowers had begun to wilt, and there seemed to be nothing we could do to revive them back to their original health, it was quite by accident that we discovered what they actually needed. I had gotten myself entangled in an altercation with one of Alvina’s would-be suitors who happened by while I was visiting the ladies, and tending to my crops. Once again, I had killed, and once again, the encroacher was buried in the pIanters. This time, though, we took note how quickly the flowers soon perked up.

We had all become addicted to the smell of the flowers. It was more intoxicating than any drug. The perfume made both Caroline and Alvina beautiful beyond words, and no one could refuse them when they wore it. Alvina had created a cologne for me from the fragrance of the flowers. The effect on me was different. It increased my strength tenfold, and brought out a terrible violent streak. Only Caroline or Alvina could control me. Fortunately for me, the insanity plea my defensive team launched was successful.

I have been free of the plants’ grasp now for two years, and I am looking forward to being free in the real world once again.

In a storage locker that was paid up for ten years, there are seed packets, hydroponics equipment, and lab materials. Only Alvina and I have access to it. I am going to burn them, as soon as I get a chance.

I am waiting at the bus stop, when a familiar car pulls up, bearing in its rear seat, an all too memorable plant. The window rolls down, and Alvina beckons to me from the passenger side.

Caroline is driving. She always drives.

I get in. What else can I do?

LJI WEEK 16:
A TERRIBLE BEAUTY IS BORN

Current Mood: calm

The rain was coming down in sheets and the grey clouds that filled the sky made it seem more like night than the middle of the day. Alden Duke ruminated upon the city below from his leather executive chair, his head leaning against the thick glass of his office window, several stories up. He was one of two guardians for Chicago; he covered the South side, while the other Guardian watched over the North. The rain suited his mood. He had just finished an interview with another potential apprentice. The next applicant would be there in an hour. He gave himself time between the interviews to cool off and process what he had learned about the latest set coming up. So far, all he had uncovered was that this graduating class didn’t know their heads from their hindquarters. Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the presence behind him.

                     “You know brooding isn’t going to help you make a decision,” a silky voice cooed.

Alden jumped, whirling around with his hand on the knife at his belt.

          “Enora,” he sighed, relieved when he saw who it was. “After all these years, have you still not learned how dangerous it is for you to sneak up on me like that?” he scolded.

His wife leaned against the doorway, smiling, her hand attempting to conceal from her mouth the giggle that her shoulders betrayed. Alden’s hand dropped carelessly from the hilt, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he shifted his buckle as he sauntered her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him in a passionate kiss.

                     “My, my, that is dangerous,” she breathed in his ear after they separated. “I’m taking it the last interview didn’t go well?”

          “No it did not,” he retorted, somewhat emphatically. “More of the same... manufactured robotic answers, no original ideas. Basically, every one of them parroting only whatever they thought I wanted to hear.” Alden looked depressed. “Hopefully this last one will go better.”

                     “Well, I’ve prepared us something to eat while you wait, help to ease your mind,” Enora offered. “How does that sound?”

          “Sounds heavenly,” he smiled gratefully. He took her hand in his as they climbed the stairs to their shared apartment above the office for a quick bite.

After lunch, Alden quickly skimmed the file on his desk.

          Dajan (no last name)
          21 years old
          3rd in his graduating class in test scores
          1st in his graduating class in tracking,
                  undercover skills,
                  evidence gathering,
                  and tailing

So far, this looked promising.

He was at the bottom of his class in adherence, attentiveness and cooperation.

That was not a good sign.

His psych profile read as follows:

                  Dajan is an extremely intelligent and sensitive student, ranking in the highly advanced category of intelligence. However, he displays considerable problems with authority and working in groups. This would tend to lead one to believe he would have difficulty with personal interactions, however, in undercover settings, Dajan exhibits impeccable social skills. He is highly adaptable and very capable at solving logic problems, contrasting with some trouble addressing emotions and emotional issues. He seems to be detached most of the time. Dajan would be well suited to a guardian role; he may have problems, however, in taking orders during his apprenticeship, and may have a high tendency to bend the rules.

Alden smiled to himself after reading the report, just in time for the knock at the door. He opened it to an olive toned young man of average height and athletic build.

          “Are you Dajan?” Alden asked the young man.

                     “Yes sir, I am,” Dajan replied, remaining in the doorway.

          “Well come in and have a seat, then,” Alden urged, ushering him into the office.

Dajan seated himself at the desk. Alden thumbed through Dajan’s file as he sat.

          “I do interviews a little differently,” he told his guest. “I’ve reviewed your files and have seen your grades and test scores. But all that tells me is that you can read and write.”

Dajan shifted in his seat, as Alden closed the file and set it back down on his desk. He ran his fingers through his shoulder length red hair and picked up an e-cig.

          “Do you mind?” he gestured to the device.

                     “No sir,” Dajan replied, sitting up in his chair as straight as a board.

          “Dajan,” Alden began. “I noticed there is no last name listed for you. Why is that?”

                     “Sir, I am an orphan,” came Dajan’s well-rehearsed monotone. “I spent most of my life on the streets. Dajan is the name given me by the lady that sometimes looked out for me. She told me she was not a blood relative. When I was 12, I was picked up by the psych squad and placed in a juvenile center for 'gifted' people, and was trained and educated there before going onto the academy.

          “So,” Alden scratched his beard stubble. “You would rather remain nameless?”

                     “I have a name,” the young man’s response was unaffected. “Dajan is my name. It’s the only name I need, sir.”

          “I guess that makes sense,” Alden nodded. “I see by your records you have had some issues with authority. Do you feel that has come from having grown up in the system?”

                     “I’m not sure I take your meaning sir,” Dajan responded, showing signs of tension, now. “Most of the times I have come into conflict with leadership, it is because they are asking me to do something irrational, or to blindly follow an order without understanding the reason. I don’t work that way. I don’t believe anyone should. I need to know what I’m doing makes sense.”

          “Well, then, we shouldn’t have any problems,” the older man’s eyes twinkled. “If I take you on…” here he paused, looking the candidate over. “I’m all about transparency. I expect that to go both ways. You understand.”

Dajan nodded.

          “I also see that you have an exemplary record as far as field tests; are you an action junky?” Alden queried further.

                     “No way, sir,” Dajan countered. “I have also done well on my written tests, as you should see there. I like to excel in what I do. I want to make sure people know that I am capable.” Dajan seemed more relaxed while answering this question.

          “Capable…” Alden pursed his lips. “Got it.” His brow furrowed. “Do you have ambitions of being in intelligence, or maybe military operations someday?” Alden was doing his best to stay out of Dajan’s head. The kid was being evasive, in a not-seeming-so sort of way. Every once in a while he would pick up a random stray thought when the applicant accidentally dropped his guard.

                     “No, I just want to make a place for myself in society. I don’t want to wind up in one of those detention centers for rogue mages and psychics,” Dajan answered quickly, shivering slightly.

          “That’s understandable,” Alden clucked. “The only option you have now is to either be an apprentice guardian, or get assigned to a police psych squad. Which would you prefer?”

                     “I would prefer being a guardian,” Dajan responded eagerly, looking very serious. “And I’m not just saying that for this interview. I feel as a guardian, I would actually be able to accomplish more for the magical citizens, maybe even help pave the road to a path for more and better rights for our kind.”

          “Maybe…” Alden raised an eyebrow as he picked up on rebellious thoughts from Dajan here; though he recognized the lad was being truthful in his answer.

The elder also got a glimpse of a few traumatic incidents. Unlike the rest of the hopefuls he’d interviewed today, Dajan had spent some time outside of the magic zones and understood the true reality for magic beings in America; that they were second class citizens at best, and viewed as pariahs that needed to be exterminated at worst. If it wasn’t for the magic zones, this country would most certainly be in the throes of an ethnic conflict between those magically gifted and those not. Alden shuddered at the thought of it.

The interview had been going on for over an hour as they were finally nearing the end.

          “Alright, one last series of questions, kid” Alden squared himself in his chair and steeled his hands upon the desk. “When you were outside of the magic zone, what crimes did you commit?”

                     “Excuse me, sir?” Dajan looked troubled.

          “You heard me, son,” Alden remained deadpanned. “I might as well warn you right now, I’m a certified clairvoyant. I have been picking up on every thought you’ve had since this interview started, so drop the act.” Alden sat back in his chair, holding Dajan’s gaze.

                     “As you wish, sir,” Dajan’s demeanor changed, his contempt for this process showing tangibly. “I have stolen several items, mostly food and clothing; I have committed assaults to protect myself. I have never once initiated an assault for any reason.” He took a deep breath and looked Alden square in the eye. “I have only killed once, and it was in self-defense. You’re the telepath. You can peer into my mind and pluck the memory from it if you wish to assuage yourself that I am telling the truth,” he said, not nearly as respectively as he had previously been.

The senior guardian peered over his desk at Dajan for several minutes, as the street urchin’s eye twitched, barely containing his disdain. Alden picked up on rage, humiliation, and defeat. He let the kid fume for a bit, before he smiled brightly, and thrust his hand enthusiastically across the table.

          “No need for that,” Alden beamed. “I can tell you’re telling the truth,” he said, pumping the confused man’s arm vigorously in an excited handshake. “Put ’er there, kid... you’re my new apprentice!”

Dajan’s expression was one of shock, but he gripped Alden’s hand firmly and shook it, and as the realization settled around him, he slowly slipped into a sheepish grin.

                     “I guess I will report here to you after I am discharged from the academy, then,” Dajan stammered, still reeling. “Thank you, sir. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dajan stood briskly, barely managing to avoid knocking over his chair, and left Alden’s office in a flurry of excitement.

A few minutes late, Enora came in and sat across from her husband, who was positively glowing.

                     “I’m guessing from the smile on your face you have found your apprentice,” she crowed.

          “Indeed I have,” Alden replied, looking back down over the city below with renewed enthusiasm.

LJI WEEK 14:
CONFESSION FROM THE CHAIR

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Location: Omnis Terra

Chepi and Ezra had been huddled in a darkened lab for the past hour, with Ezra whining all the while in a low toned hiss about how much he missed Rhiannon, and how she would never have gotten them into a fine mess like this. Trying to stay focused and concentrate, Chepi mostly ignored him. She had learned long ago to tune out most of what comes out of Ezra’s mouth. When the footsteps filing past the exterior hallway finally stopped, Chepi let out her breath in a long, deep sigh of relief.

               “Ezra, is there any way you can hack into the systems here and divert security elsewhere... give us time to formulate a plan of escape?” Chepi whispered to the brooding, sulking Ezra, who at least was finally quiet, for the time being.

                               “Hmmm... Maybe I can open a psychic link with the computers here…” Ezra mused. “I wouldn’t feel safe trying a hack right now.”

He turned off his portable terminal, gingerly laid his fingertips on the nearest machine, and closed his eyes tight, lids twitching, brows knitted. Chepi also knew better than to interrupt his stream of consciousness when he went into this mode. Watching, she gave him space, and patiently waited only a few moments before his eyes flew open with a bright grin.

                                “I’m in!” he declared, eagerly. “I gained access to the network.”

                “Good job,” Chepi encouraged. “Now we need a diversion so we can get out of here.”

                               “Easier said than done,” Ezra frowned. “There are humans on security detail, too. I can reroute the robots, but we will still have to find a way around the manual labor force,” Ezra explained.

                “How many human targets are there?” Chepi asked.

                               “There are 23 people on staff; I don’t imagine we’ll have to take them all out.” Ezra was still obviously devoting a fair portion of his thinking to the psychic connection.

Chepi rolled her eyes at his last statement. Ezra was such a cream puff. She knew that he and others like him could have telepathic interactions with machines, and had even learned to make dire use of that ability, as it often got the team out of some pretty tight jams, but she still couldn’t quite grasp it. When she’d been at the Academy, they’d been taught that psychics could only communicate with organic entities, and that there were different kinds of gifts which allowed some to communicate with the dead. But technology had made so many advances since then, and artificial intelligence had become so much stronger, and more universally impactful... machines were growing closer to "living" every day. It wasn’t until after she graduated and was accepted into security forces for Ndakinna that the first recognized cases of technomancers began to surface in the more "mainstream" channels; before that, there had only been rumors of isolated incidents, and even those "in the know" had considered them to be flukes of nature, random freak occurrences unlikely to recrudesce. Even now, they were only starting to scratch the surface of these gifted forces. Chepi was frustrated by things she didn’t understand, but she was grateful. It was that power of technomancy which was most likely to save them now.

                               “Got it!” Ezra yipped excitedly, probably a bit louder than was prudent. “I have rerouted the bots to 3 floors above us. I set off motion detectors on that floor and also hacked holographic images of us to the cameras there, so that should get the live guards diverted in that direction, also.”

Ezra was beaming with pride, still linked with the hostile network. Chepi found his constant need for attention exhausting. She never needed to be impressed with him; he was usually impressed enough with himself to accommodate their entire team’s reaction. Still, she had to hand it to him. That was some pretty whip smart thinking and quick work.

                “Alright, we need to get to a different room,” she prodded, with a pat on his back. “You have access to the structural layout... is there a more secure location on this floor we can hide in?”

                               “There is a secure lab just a few doors down... just give me a second to update the access our badges grant us," Ezra rushed. "There. Now we should be able to get into any room in the building. We should move now, though... I don’t know how long I can keep the guards chasing ghosts.”

Ezra released his link on the computer and started towards the door. Chepi grabbed his arm.

                “Chasing ghosts...!" she smacked herself in the forehead. Ezra took a step back, confused. "That gives me an idea... let’s get to the lab and see what we can use there.”

Chepi darted in front Ezra with her staff ready to blast anything that might be in the hallway. Ezra armed himself with his weapon, a plastic piece that to any casual eye appeared to be a toy gun. Charged with Ezra’s psychic energy, though, it could blast through a wall if necessary. He was thrilled just to be packing, and the image of him looking every bit like Peabody’s Sherman was not entirely lost on Chepi, but she kept her amusement to herself, glad she was able to offer anything that would keep him from mentally drifting off, given his slippery attention span.

Upon reaching the lab, Chepi and Ezra were shocked by what they found there. There were rows upon rows of cages containing monkeys; monkeys with cybernetic attachments. The animals were clearly not happy, and seeing them in this condition enraged both teammates. As an Elemental Wizard, Chepi found this lab and those responsible for it reprehensible beyond measure. For Ezra, it was disturbing on another level. He could actually hear the monkeys’ agonized thoughts. He stood there, frozen, attacked by the psychic outrage, anguish, and fear of these intelligent beasts. Ezra had never experienced anything like this before. He had heard other psychics talk about how annoying or distracting it could be, being in a roomful of people, their thoughts buffeted against you like the waves of an ocean, but being a technomancer, he couldn’t hear human thoughts unless another psychic spoke to him telepathically, and technology “thoughts,” such as they were, were so much easier to interpret, decipher, and even manipulate, than any people he’d ever met.

                “Ezra, snap out of it!” Chepi barked, shaking her near catatonic companion. “I know this is disgusting, but we have to find a way out of here.”

                               “We... can’t... leave... them... ” Ezra forced the words out through labored sobs. “Chepi, we have to DO something... this is SO wrong.”

                “What is wrong with you?” Chepi shook her head, trying to collect herself, to collect them both. She was shocked... she had never seen Ezra break down like this before. She caught herself, mentally chiding her internal compass, when she realized she was surprised to learn he was even capable of experiencing the complex emotions he was displaying before her now.

                               “I... hear, no, feel... their... pain,” he whimpered. His voice sounded as haunted as his face looked.

                “But, you’re not supposed to be telepathic or empathic, unless...” Chepi’s jaw nearly dropped. “Wait, are the monkeys telepathic?!” she gasped.

                               “No...” he sighed. He seemed to be coming back to his senses. Chepi thought perhaps the initial shock was wearing off. “I think it’s because of the cybernetic implants that I can pick up their thoughts... they’re all interlinked to the computer.” He had calmed down a little, and was starting to sound like himself again.

                “Okay,” Chepi nodded. A picture was starting to form. “I was going to release the spirits from the orb to wreak a little havoc on the guards, but I guess the monkeys will make a better distraction.” She moved toward the cages.

                               “Wait!” Ezra cautioned, grabbing at his Captain before she could open the first one. “They aren’t going to know we aren’t responsible for this...” he looked around the room at the frightened, imprisoned, tortured creatures. “They could attack us.”

                “You’re right, of course,” Chepi couldn’t believe the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Hmmm,” she pondered. “Maybe we should combine my plans into one.”

                               “What do you mean?” Ezra quizzed, cocking his head like a curious puppy.

                “You’ll see,” Chepi winked. She took the spirit orb from her pack and rapped on it. “Wake up, kiddies! Your services are required!”

                              “We’re awake,” the Gruff one drawled lazily from inside the glowing sphere. “What is it we can do for you, Captain?”

Chepi filled the ghosts in on her plan, then unlocked the binding spell on the orb. The spirits immediately took possession of the monkeys in the cages. With only 15 monkeys in all, 5 spirits remained in the crystal. Chepi wasn’t about to leave herself without leverage, after all. The now Spirit Monkeys and Chepi took out the human guards, while Ezra disabled the robotics and then set all the computers in the building to auto wipe their hard drives. He met Chepi outside, excited to see she had commandeered a shipping truck from the loading dock.

                               “The computers are erasing now, I’m guessing things went fine on your end?” Ezra queried, as he hopped into the passenger seat.

                “Fine...yes...” Chepi scowled. “Fine enough...” she started. “It seems the spirits weren’t able to maintain complete control of the monkeys... the logos on the guards’ uniforms were enough to send them into a rage, and apparently, it’s one thing to manipulate a timid primate too scared not to cooperate, but something else entirely to hold the reins on a raving, primitive mammal with the strength of many men and a hell-bent fury for blood lust; let’s just say things got real ugly, real fast. But we all made it through, though. The spirits are back in the orb..."

Here she grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “...And I placed a sleep spell on the monkeys... they should be out for some time.”

Chepi's countenance darkened. The men who'd done this needed to be punished, and she would see to it that they were.

                               “But, Chepi,” Ezra, perhaps following her train of thought, expressed his concern. “What are we going to do about the monkeys? We can’t take them with us to meet Vittorio.”

Chepi smiled at the Technomancer. There was no way she was going to let those scientists get their hands on those beautiful lower beings again, but it was nice to be supported in the thought... especially coming from the last team member she’d have expected to care.

                “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” she tousled his hair as she pulled out of the gate, as he balked. “I've got them covered.”

Back at the station, Tala and Fehed played darts in the common room of the bunkhouse they shared with the other agents of their team, when there came a knock on the main door.

                               “Are you expecting company?” Fehed raised an eyebrow, surprised. Who even had this address?

                “Nope,” Tala responded carelessly, lining up her next throw. “Go see who it is.”

Fehed went to the door where a parcel carrier waited with two large barrels. He signed for the barrels, and helped the delivery driver wheel them into the foyer. Tala moseyed in behind him, eyeing the unexpected arrivals.

                               “I didn't order anything,” Fehed puzzled, circling the unusual objects in their entry. He studied them from every angle, poking them in spots, before peering up at Tala. “Did you?” Fehed asked her.

                “No,” she furrowed her brow, sniffing at the top of the first barrel. “Is there a note or an invoice?”

                               “Wait, here it is…!,” he exclaimed, relieved.   “Look, it’s a letter it's from Chepi...”

Tala leaned in over his shoulder, sniffing the letter. Fehed continued,

                               “...it says, ‘Have fun, kids, but not too much!’,” he scratched his head.

Both looked at each other in total befuddlement.

                               “Huh...” he blanched. If his ears were up, they’d be pointed and twisting. “Wonder what that means?” he questioned.

                “Well go on, then,” Tala prodded, impatient. “Don’t keep us in suspense!” she nudged him. “Open them up, you curious cat.”

Fehed stuck his tongue out at her, and she narrowed her lids at him, a playful snarl on her lips. He tore into the lids of both barrels, and then stood there, peering down into them, utterly speechless.

                “Well?” Tala’s impatience came out almost as a growl. Fehed just stared up at her, dumbfounded. She poked her nose into one of the barrels.

                “What the...” her voice echoed into the barrel chamber. She pulled her head out. “What in the blue hell are we supposed to do with a pile of sleeping monkeys...?!”

LJI WEEK 12:
BARREL OF MONKEYS

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Location: Omnis Terra

Chepi brooded in the back of the cab with her head in her hands, lost in thought. The debriefing of their last mission had not gone well. Commander Noriko read her the riot act over her team’s performance, and well she should have. Chepi would have a few choice words for her team at their next meeting in the morning. For now, she just wanted to get home and soak in a warm tub.

How in the blue hell had things gone so badly? She’d meticulously planned out every detail and made sure her team had adequate intelligence. Still, they’d managed to screw it up good. Tala and Fehed had been ill equipped; Vittorio and Ezra had been out of position. At least in the end, Ezra was able to upload the data, and she got everyone out alive.

Relaxing in the bath that night, Chepi played back the day’s events in her head.

Yesterday morning, everything seemed to start out fine. All they had to do was break into Chysoar, upload some data files from their servers to the command center network, and get out. They had been given a dossier documenting the security in the building, and they even had access codes.

Tala and Fehed showed up in their undercover disguise, but they had the right badges and the wrong maintenance uniforms; the set they’d brought had been used in the previous job they’d just completed. Chepi decided since this was supposed to be a simple data grab, the cat and dog could stay in the van and act as backup, so she took Vittorio and Ezra and went on ahead without them.

When they got to the server room, they discovered that their swiped access codes had not been appropriately updated; they were two months out-of-date. Ezra had to do an on-the-spot hack to gain access, while Chepi and Vittorio ran interference. It was Ezra’s idea to pose as server room cleaners, but for some inexplicable reason, in the process, Vittorio just wandered off. He never did give a satisfactory explanation of where he went. Then, after collecting the data, Ezra took the wrong escape route, so Chepi had to take Tala and Fehed back in to retrieve him.

Distracted, Chepi pulled the chain from the tub drain stopper with her big toe, and watched the soapy water swirl away into oblivion. She realized the main problem was focus. Her team was not concentrating on what was happening at the time; they were not zeroed in on the task at hand. The whole lot of them was anywhere but in the present moment. Tala and Fehed couldn’t seem to grasp that what happened on the last mission might not happen on the current one. Vittorio never took anything seriously, and Ezra was just plain old standard issue scatterbrained. Rhiannon had never had any trouble supervising the team, but with her gone, and Chepi now in charge, somehow they’d lost some of that cohesiveness they’d had, and she couldn’t figure out how to get them back into ship shape, and peak performance.

Could it be she just wasn’t cut out to lead?

In the meeting room, Fehed and Tala were engaged in idle chatter, Ezra was engrossed by his terminal in what was obviously a video game, while Vittorio had apparently drifted off onto some other planet. Chepi simply shook her head. Everyone was in their own little world, seemingly not the slightest bit concerned about the monstrous cluster fuck that was yesterday’s activity, as if that royal shitstorm had hit their ragtag band of compatriots a decade earlier, not just 24 hours ago. She slumped into her seat and sighed heavily, but said nothing.

Ignored by her mates, Chepi took her staff from its station at her command post, charged it with an Earth spell, then stood and looked over the others for only a moment, before bringing the rod down sternly at her feet. A thunderous tremor quaked through the entire base, sending the rest crashing onto the floor. Seeing them all upended unto their butts was almost enough amusement to make the whole debacle worth it, but Chepi tried her best to contain her smirk. She hated being hard on them, but she wasn’t their friend anymore, she was their commander now. It was time she stepped up and started acting like it.

“We need to talk,” she stated firmly, as calmly as she could.

The rest of the group stared up at Chepi from the odd positions where they’d landed, blinking, and stunned. Things were about to change in their little gang, in a big way they would not soon forget.

LJI WEEK 11:
RECENCY BIAS

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Location: Omnis Terra

Chepi bolted down the hall towards the elevator. The monster was not far behind her. She hadn’t got a very good look to size it up when she came through the hatch, right before it lunged at her, all snarls and teeth, so she wasn’t sure what kind of beast it was, but right now, she really didn’t care. This job was supposed to be a simple snatch and grab, but the intel they’d been given was wrong, and things had gone sideways almost from the beginning.

Chepi had been separated from Tala and Fehed right away. As soon as they entered the building, there was a squad of heavily armed security forces waiting them, as if they’d known to be there. She was pissed, and couldn’t figure out how they’d been tipped off. That was before she got to the 7th floor. On 7, there was some type of monster running loose and now she was unable to communicate with the rest of her team.

She just made it to the elevator and was pressing the “Close Door” button rapidly, but it kept opening. She cast a revelation spell at the door and was immediately surrounded by spirits forcing their way onto the lift.

      “Great!” Chepi sighed. “That’s just what I needed right now... poltergeist!”

                        “Don’t blame us!” exclaimed one of the spirits. “You’re the one who released that creature!”

      “Me? I didn’t let that thing out! It was already running loose when I got here!” Chepi exclaimed in frustration, while preparing a shield spell.

      “And why should you guys care, anyway?” she objected. “You’re insubstantial!”

                        “Uh, that thing feeds on chi,” one of the spirits responded, snidely. “...and we happen to be nothing BUT pure chi, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

                       “Yeah!” another added, briskly. “What kind of a mage are you, anyway?”

      “A powerful one, who will banish you all from this elevator if you don’t shut up and let me concentrate!”

None of the spirits spoke after that, and Chepi just finished her shield spell when the monster rounded the corner and came barreling at the elevator. Thankfully, it closed in time, and the elevator headed down. There was a loud thud as the monster hit the heavy metal doors above them. Chepi slid down the back wall, folded her arms above her knees, and buried her head in them. She hoped she would be able to reach the ground floor or the basement, rally with her companions, and get out of this madhouse.

But her thoughts were interrupted, as she heard the “ding!” of the lift alert, and the elevator stopped on the 6th floor.

Chepi sprang up; wand at the ready to blast whatever stepped through the conveyor doors. A bloodied and battered humanoid shape fell into the elevator floor. She lowered her wand as she recognized the bruised face.

      “Vittorio?” Chepi tried to prop him up against the rear of the hoist. One of the spirits busied itself with frantically pressing the “Close Door” button.

               “Chepi...” Vittorio moaned, as his head fell against his chest. Chepi heard the doors closing behind her.

      “Vitto, what happened to you”?

                        “He’ll be one of us soon by the look of him,” one of the spirits chittered.

      “Shut up, you!” Chepi snapped, assessing Vitto’s wounds. “Did any of you spirits happen to see anything in that hallway?”

                        “Nada,” a gruff voice spoke.

                        “Nope,” came another reply, in an unconcerned male voice.

                        “It was dark?” a female voice answered, nervously.

                        “Eyes were closed!” a childlike voice piped.

      “Ugh. I don’t know why I am even bother,” Chepi sighed.

                       “Keep calm, your friend is still breathing,” the gruff voice said.

Chepi checked Vittorio’s vitals. His pulse was fair, his breathing ragged. She wondered what possibly could have done this much damage to a half-blood vampire, and a strong one, at that. Vittorio was no pushover.

This time the elevator made it to the 4th floor before stopping. The doors had only begun to open when a massive claw grabbed the side of one door and started forcing it ajar. The claw was covered in a course grey-and-black fur, matted with blood.

      “Oh, hell, no!” Chepi muttered, and readied her wand again, waiting for a face or body to appear to blast.

               “Chepi, it’s me, Tala,” a rough female voice said. “Please don’t blast me!”

Chepi lowered the wand slightly.

      “Move to where I can see you,” she answered, and then added, “slowly.”

Tala moved her face slowly into view. Her fur was matted, with patches missing, torn out. Her fangs dribbled blood from her wolfish muzzle, and she reeked of sweat, fear, and grizzly death.

               “Keep calm, Chepi,” Tala tried to reassure her friend in as soothing a voice as she could muster, but in her wolf-human form it came out like a growl, one that often caused her enemies to wet themselves, flee in fright, or suffer massive heart failure. But Chepi was not an enemy.

               “I know tonight’s been rough,” Tala continued. Chepi lowered her wand and slunk back against the elevator wall, while the spirits chattered in the background. Tala stepped into the elevator, followed by the limping form of Fehed, in his panther form. He was also covered in blood, and looked to be severely damaged, though he moved as if he didn’t notice. Tala’s wounds were not as bad as his.

    “What happened to you guys after we got separated?” Chepi asked.

               “After we took out the guards, we tried getting to you on the 7th floor, but the elevator stalled at the 4th floor, and when we forced our way out we ran into these creatures we had to fight off.”

      “Sounds familiar,” Chepi nodded. “That’s pretty similar to what I ran into on the 7th floor. I was able to grab the package and then book it back to the elevator... That’s where this nice pack of spirits came from,” Chepi indicated, motioning to the nearly insubstantial forms floating around the lift.

               “What happened to Vittorio?” Tala asked, pointing a claw at the fallen vampire. Fehed sniffed at him and mewled quietly.

              “And how did he get here?” Tala queried further. “He wasn’t with our raiding party tonight.”

      “I’m not sure,” Chepi frowned. “When I left the 7th floor, the elevator stopped on the 6th and he was there.” Her brow furrowed deeper. “Tell me, does he smell right to you?” Chepi asked her half-canine friend.

               “He smells like Vittorio, all right,” Tala nodded. “If he didn’t, one of us wouldn’t have wasted any time with introductions before ripping his throat out.” Tala growled, indicating her part-time feline companion, pawing at Fehed.

With another sudden chime of the lift alert, the elevator once again came to an abrupt stop on the 3rd floor, and the doors started to open.

                       “What, did you press every button on the way down except for the 5th?” one of the spirits whined.

      “Shut up and keep your senses open,” Chepi scolded. “If you guys are going to tag along with us, the least you can do is make yourselves useful.”

Fehed crouched at the door, ready to pounce, and Tala stood in front of Vittorio and Chepi, acting as a shield. The doors opened onto what appeared to be an abandoned hallway with a thick layer of cobwebs hanging against the walls, from floor to ceiling.

                        “There are things out there,” the spirit with childlike voice whimpered, barely above a whisper.

                        “Not things, little one... Spiders... big ones,” the female voice corrected quietly.

               “Damn,” Tala snarled. “I smell humans out there as well.”

      “Well, I guess we should check it out,” Chepi directed. “Fehed, you hold the elevator doors open,” she charged, pulling from her satchel a tennisball-sized orb with four glowing symbols on it.

      “You spirits gather round me. This orb will protect you.”

                        “Is it safe?” the childlike voice asked.

      “Very,” Chepi assured, as the spirits gathered around her. “Now, don’t panic... the sphere is going to envelope you all, but it will not hurt you. In fact, it will act as a shield to protect you from anything that might attack. You can use your chi energy to power the sphere for attacks as well.”

As the spirits were absorbed into the sphere, it floated out of Chepi’s hand and expanded to the size of a basketball.

      “Alright, now four of you should connect yourselves to the symbols on the sphere, do you understand?” Chepi verified.

                        “Yes,” the gruff voice responded. “What exactly is this thing, Mage?” it asked her.

      “An elemental spirit sphere,” Chepi explained. “The symbols represent one of each of the four elements. You can use your chi energy to power them to, say, cast a fireball or a lightning shield around the sphere; how many of you are in there exactly?”

                        “There are 20 of us,” the gruff voice told her.

      “Well, that’s good,” Chepi sounded relieved. “That means you can switch out, if you need to, so as not to fully drain yourselves.”

Chepi traced her fingers across the sphere and it glowed blue, red, yellow, purple and finally green.

      “There,” she nodded. “It’s sealed. Now I am the only one who can release you from the sphere. Do you understand?”

                        “Of course, Mage,” the gruff voice answered, with what sounded like something of a sly smirk. “Thank you for this gift.”

     “Do not think this gift comes free,” Chepi warned, as she balled her hand into a fist, and the globe froze in place. “You will obey me or suffer the consequences,” she threatened, her countenance darkening.

                        “Wait, you said we would be safe!” the childlike voice wailed.

      “Hush, now, little one,” Chepi cooed. “No harm will come to you as long as you do as I ask. All I want is for you to help Fehed stand guard over my friend Vittorio; nothing else.”

As she spoke, Chepi soothingly stroked the orb, sending a wave of calming energy over it.

                        “We understand,” the gruff voice grumbled ruefully.

                        “At least we will be safe from those creatures,” the female voice admonished sternly. “Chins up, heads straight. Things could definitely be worse. Remember what happened to our friends.”

                        “As long as I get the chance to actually blast something, I’m cool,” the bored male voice yawned.

      “Good,” Chepi agreed, and released the sphere. “Tala, you ready?” she looked to her companion.

               “I’ve been ready, waiting for you,” Tala gruffed, poised on the threshold of the elevator as the doors bounced back from her muscular form at repeated intervals. She and Chepi advanced into the corridor, careful to avoid the walls and stay in the center of the hallway, with Tala leading. Fehed took up position on the elevator threshold to keep the doors from closing. He transformed from panther form into that of a large muscular cat-man.

               “You ladies don’t take too long,” he purred at them.

               “You just make sure to keep that elevator ready for us,” Tala growled back over her shoulder. Anyone else would have taken her bared teeth as menacing, but her lover and mate knew well enough when she was smiling, even in wolf form, and flicked his cat tail in approval.

The hallway lead around to a lab that was covered floor-to-ceiling with fresh webs, and there were human captives in cocoons in some of the webs. Chepi silently signaled Tala towards the nearest human snack.

      “Do you think this one will do?” Chepi whispered to Tala.

             “Looks healthy enough, and still breathing,” Tala nodded. “I think we’ll need one more though,” she motioned a wolf-claw in the direction of the next nearest body, a female who was also still breathing, barely. Tala and Chepi kept an eye out for any movement among the webs.

Chepi conjured a fireball, while Tala stealthily used her claws to delicately cut the webbing around the unconscious humans. Flashes of movement appeared in the room. Chepi launched two fireballs just beyond Tala’s position. The webbing in front them ignited instantly. Chepi spun around, tossing fireballs in a perimeter around the foursome of the two companions and their rescues. The encroaching spiders stopped short of the flame wall.

Tala freed the woman, and, being less cautious now, slashed the webbing around the man. She threw one human form over each shoulder and ran back down the hall. Chepi, fireballs in both hands, covered Tala’s retreat at her heels.

Just in that moment, a fireball erupted on the wall of the hallway leading back to the elevator. They heard Fehed roaring, and sounds of a melee.

      “Frak!” Chepi cursed under her breath and pushed past Tala. She flattened herself against the wall leading to the elevator corridor, and peeked around the corner. “Great Spirit! The hallway is LITERALLY crawling with spiders! I’m not sure how we’re gonna make it through,” she hissed to Tala.

               “Couldn’t you place a fire shield around us?” Tala asked, as she joined up at Chepi’s side.

      “I don’t have enough energy to do that,” Chepi shrugged. “I used up a lot of energy back there in the lab, and even more against the beast I fled on floor 7.”

               “So what do we do now?” Tala implored, as she placed the bodies on the floor.

Chepi briefly regarded the stunned humans lying at their feet.

      “No, wait,” she cautioned, staying Tala with a halting motion. “Hang on those two for a moment... I have a plan.” Tala let out a mild grunt, but hoisted her double shoulder burden once more.

      “I just hope those spirits are reliable,” Chepi added, peering into the arachnid fray before them.

Chepi sucked in a chestful of breath, then whipped herself around the corner, launching fireballs at the nearest spiders as she moved in the direction of the elevator door at full tilt. She was gratified by the popping sound of their burning exoskeletons as she bolted forward. Fehed had his hands full at the end of the hall keeping the spiders off Vittorio. The Spirit orb, outside the elevator, blasted fireballs from one side, and lightening from the other. Chepi whistled, and the orb sped down the hallway to her position.

      “Alright, you guys, I need your help getting back to the elevator. Tala, move your ass!” she hollered behind her, as she placed her left hand on the globe floating before her.

               “Okay, what’s the plan?” Tala huffed, as she reached Chepi’s side with her dead-weight human cargo.

      “Take my hand, be prepared to run, and try not to bulldoze me,” Chepi barked, as she stretched her free hand back to Tala. “Monomeqe Sqihtehmawey!” she cried. A lightning shield crackled to life around Tala, the humans backpacks, Chepi and the Orb of Spirits. “Now, Run!”

They raced down the hallway, frying spiders as they streaked to the elevator. Fehed grabbed Vittorio’s body and hugged the elevator wall as they all re-entered together. Chepi lowered the shield around them, and Tala pressed the “Close Door” button.

               “Fehed, bring Vitto over here,” Tala motioned to where the human bodies lay on the ground. Fehed eased Vittorio down next to them. Chepi turned her face towards the wall, and shielded the orb against her chest. She winced as there was a noise like the breaking of an apple, followed by a wet, muffled gurgling. Chepi closed her eyes while the spirits babbled between themselves, arguing over what they were listening to.

               “My darling Chepi,” came a voice from behind her, male, with a slight European accent, now stronger, and more pronounced than it had been.

      “Vittorio,” Chepi smiled, still facing the wall. “Feeling better?” she held her eyes shut, not wanting to think about the carnage she’d just been a party to.

               “Yes, I am,” he walked over and laid a hand on Chepi’s shoulder. “Thanks to you and your...” he looked around the elevator at the group. “…friends.” There was sneer in his voice.

               “Don’t make me regret helping you, Vitto!” growled Tala.

               “Sit!” Vittorio blustered, motioning his hand downwards as he turned to Tala. She howled loudly as her body involuntarily lowered itself to her haunches. “Good grrrl!” Vitto grinned maniacally, patting her on the head.

Fehed slammed Vittorio up against the opposite wall. Vittorio reached behind him and pressed the button for floor 2. The elevator lurched to a halt, and the doors opened to the sound of gunfire and explosions.

               “What the Frak?” Fehed released Vittorio and turned to face the new threat from the smoke in hallway. Two figures lunged into the elevator. Chepi turned swiftly. Tala, freed by Vittorio’s broken concentration, leapt at the doorway, and the two figures slammed into her.

                        “Daayyumm, Girlfriend!” A slight blonde challenged the wolf woman. “What the hell kinda greeting is that?”

               “Rhiannon?” Tala squealed, squeezing the blonde in a giant wolf-hug with one arm, grabbing up the male with the other.

                        “Hey, guys, we need to find another way out,” the thin redhead in Tala’s embrace managed to croak out. “The streets are swarming with soldiers, and so are the 1st and 2nd floors.”

Vittorio tossed the desiccated, web-encased bodies out the elevator and pressed the “Close Door” button.

               “Well then,” Vittorio smiled at the group. “What floor?”

Tala gently set down her blonde friend, Rhiannon, and her redheaded buddy, Ezra.

                        “5th floor appears to be the only way out,” Ezra observed, typing into the keypad on his armband.

They reached the 5th floor without incident, and as the doors opened, they all took up arms and battle positions, prepared to fight their way through whatever lay beyond it, except Rhiannon, who squared her shoulders and dusted off her coat.

                        “Keep calm and mind the gap,” she stated coolheadedly as the elevator doors to the 5th floor opened and they found themselves looking at a subway platform. Fehed and Tala transformed back into human form.

Vittorio cleared his throat.

               “Well, this is certainly unexpected.”

They left the elevator and as the doors closed behind them, there was a flash of light and the doors vanished.

                        “Mind the gap,” Rhiannon smiled again with a wink as they waited for the next train.

LJI WEEK 9:
KEEP CALM

Additional stories from this world, in chronological order:
| In The Beginning | Escalation | Project X | The Woodshed |
| Meet the New Boss | Back To Reality | The Interview |
| The Turing Test | Ohm’s Law | Hero’s Anthem |

Current Location: Omnis Terra

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