Podcasts about Augur

This week on Critical Arcade, Dave and Nick descend into Elden Ring: Nightreign—FromSoftware's latest reminder that joy is fleeting and bosses have no chill. Set in the hauntingly beautiful Limveld, the duo trades the sunny plains of the world they used to know for a realm now soaked in gloom, grief, and gravestones. As they chase down and destroy the nightmare-fuelled Nightlords (Except for Augur, he's just a blue floating manatee.) They must adapt to the rapid roguelike gameplay, wish for decent RNG loot drops, and overlook the Pepe Le Pew-inspired janky jumping. Can Dave overcome the pressure of letting his team down? And can Nick add another Fromsoft Platinum trophy to his collection? Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Es ist selten, dass ein Coommander zwei Leute so sehr packt, dass sie sich wochenlang über ihn austauschen. Deswegen machen Matze und Flo (u.A. bekannt aus Shiny's Command) heute einen Deep Dive mit dem Schurken-Forsch aus Bloomburrow. Wie sie ihre Glarb-Decks gebaut haben und wie man ihn auch ohne viel Budget zusammenbasteln kann, erfahrt ihr in der Episode!Das Glarb-BudgetdeckFlos GlarbMatzes GlarbCommander Amateur auf:Twitch⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Threads⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Moxfield⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Discord-Server der PodRiders⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠PodRiders wird ausgestattet von Shure. Bist du auf der Suche nach hochwertigem Audio-Equipment? Dann folge diesem Link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://shu.re/3zdcJUV⁠⁠⁠⁠

Thank you to the folks at Sustain (https://sustainoss.org/) for providing the hosting account for CHAOSSCast! CHAOSScast- Episode 107 In this episode of CHAOSScast, we have a special crossover episode with Sustain, hosted Richard Littauer. Richard chats with CHAOSS contributor Sean Goggins, a tenured full Professor of Computer Science at the University of Missouri. Sean discusses his extensive involvement in the open source community, particularly through his work with the CHAOSS Project, a Linux Foundation initiative focused on understanding and improving open-source project sustainability. Their conversation covers Sean's academic background, his role in CHAOSS, the importance of distributed leadership, and how metrics can impact the sustainability of open source projects. Sean also shares insights into his teaching methods, the challenges of maintaining open source software, and the future direction of his work on CHAOSS and Augur. Hit the download button now! [00:02:32] Sean shares that he's a professor specializing in software engineering, algorithms, data science, and visualization, and he discusses his tenure status and passion for research and open source work. [00:03:48] Sean explains how open source leadership is distributed rather than centralized. [00:05:52] We hear how the CHAOSS Project emerged from studying open source governance and leadership. Sean and Matt Germonprez started working on open source collaboration data and a metrics-focused discussion at a Linux Foundation Summit that led to the founding of the CHAOSS Project in 2017. [00:09:30] Richard asks Sean how he balances research, teaching, and open source. Sean discusses how he splits time between research (40%), teaching (40%), and service (20%), with CHAOSS being a major part of his research efforts. [00:14:34] Sean explains that the Augur Project was born out of a need for structured open source data tracking. [00:16:25] Richard asks Sean if he teaches his students about open source, and he explains that he uses CHAOSS and Auger to teach students about GitHub collaboration, pull requests, and open source workflows. [00:20:32] Sean shares his insights on research and open source. He emphasizes his involvement in maintaining software and aiding organizations in making sense of CHAOSS metrics through Augur, which has given him a deep understanding of open source development. [00:21:51] Sean explains why he thinks metrics help make projects more sustainable and how the CHAOSS community has benefitted from fostering a welcoming environment for both technical and non-technical contributors. [00:26:30] We hear some challenges within CHAOSS where it's been difficult to build a strong developer community around CHAOSS software tools and maintaining open source software requires significant effort. [00:29:18] He goes further to explain how to be a better project and that there's potential for improving project sustainability through structured mentoring and governance. [00:36:14] Sean shares CHAOSS Project's future and research goals. Panelist: Richard Littauer of Sustain Guest: Sean Goggins of CHAOSS Value Adds (Picks)/Spotlight: [00:38:32] Richard's spotlight is BibtexParser. [00:39:28] Sean's spotlight is Stuart Geiger. Links: SustainOSS (https://sustainoss.org/) podcast@sustainoss.org (mailto:podcast@sustainoss.org) richard@sustainoss.org (mailto:richard@sustainoss.org) SustainOSS Discourse (https://discourse.sustainoss.org/) SustainOSS Mastodon (https://mastodon.social/tags/sustainoss) Open Collective-SustainOSS (Contribute) (https://opencollective.com/sustainoss) Richard Littauer Socials (https://www.burntfen.com/2023-05-30/socials) Sean Goggins Website (https://www.seangoggins.net/) Sean Goggins X (https://x.com/sociallycompute) Nora McDonald Website (https://www.noramcdonald.net/) Nora McDonald-Commonwealth Cyber Initiative (https://cyberinitiative.org/research/researcher-directory/mcdonald-nora.html) Sustain Podcast- 3 episodes featuring guest Georg Link (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/georg-link) Sustain Podcast- 2 episodes featuring guest Dawn Foster (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/foster) Matt Germonprez-Univ. of Nebraska Omaha (https://www.unomaha.edu/college-of-information-science-and-technology/about/faculty-staff/matt-germonprez.php) The Linux Kernel Maintainer Summit-Tokyo, Japan 2025 (https://events.linuxfoundation.org/linux-kernel-maintainer-summit/) Alfred P. Sloan Foundation (https://sloan.org/) CHAOSS (https://chaoss.community/) CHAOSS-GrimoireLab (https://chaoss.github.io/grimoirelab/) CHAOSS-Augur (https://github.com/chaoss/augur) Kelly Blincoe-University of Auckland (https://profiles.auckland.ac.nz/k-blincoe) James Howison (https://james.howison.name/) Sustain Podcast- episode 218 featuring guest James Howison (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/james-howison) Sustain Podcast-episode 243 featuring guest Elizabeth Barron (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/elizabeth-barron) Sustain Podcast-episode 65 featuring guest Brian Proffitt (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/briant-proffitt) Sustain Podcast-2 episodes featuring guest Duane O'Brien (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/duane-obrien) Sustain Podcast-episode 200 featuring guest Stuart Geiger (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/geiger) Digital Infrastructure Podcast- 2 episodes featuring guest Rayya El Zein (https://dif.fireside.fm/guests/rayya-el-zein) BibtexParser (https://bibtexparser.readthedocs.io/en/main/) Stuart Geiger (https://css.ucsd.edu/people/profiles/sgeiger.html) Special Guest: Richard Littauer.

Hana shines and Aya rises.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.“It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it.”My equilibrium decided to cut me some slack and not invoke the reflexive vomiting. "It is only me, Hana, Imogen, Deidre, Mom, Buffy, hi Juanita," I hadn't spotted my designated bodyguard standing behind Chaz."Don't talk to me right now," she seethed. "I'm furious with you." Yep, she was the Caribbean Buffy."Perhaps she's pissed about the five extra Illuminati bodyguards added to the regular two around Hana plus the two circling Ghost Tigers having not a fucking clue what those other armed parties are doing in Hana's company," Pamela joked. She could. Everyone else was giving me crap about my social gaff."Hey now. This meeting is important. Imogen and I are going to have a child," I enlightened them. The door chimed open and we piled in with two Amazons whose 'fresh' look indicated a use of the showers within the past ten minutes."You consistently maintain particularly low standards," Chaz dryly remarked."I sent her here for a check-up and that gave Buffy a chance to meet Mom, Deidre and Imogen, plus two unarmed bodyguards," I kept bailing out the Titanic."Chaz, I am happy we aren't going to miss this one (lunch)," Pamela smiled at her two grandsons."Cáel, are you going to tell your fiancée you've impregnated your aunt?" Chaz was back to being mildly sympathetic to my 'totally fucked-up' life."Yes. I figured Buffy shooting death rays at me from her eyes will garner me enough confusion to get the words out of my mouth without her throwing her drink in my face, slapping me, then storming out," I envisioned.I got no more shit until I reached the garage for my vehicle. There an armed FBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox (did you know when a Federal Agent adds 'Special' to their title it means they have a gun?) stood next to my chariot. She'd drawn the short straw, meaning she had been given the chore of driving today.I found myself wondering when Yasmin would finally finish her orientation. Her training involved some serious mental challenges including a crash course from the FBI at Quantico concerning modern judicial theory & practice as well as whatever pre-Iron Age jurisprudence the Host practiced.Javiera promised me (and Katrina) that she would not-so-subtly remind those scholastically-groomed legal minds that a (couldn't use the word 'Amazon') legal code they followed had existed, with minor tweaking, as a successful social instrument for over 3,000 years. If they truly behaved in a respectful manner, the owners of the code might even show those people the Codex on the original horse-skin, written in Hittite cuneiform.Anyway, everyone assumed I had a good reason for heading to my apartment (aka need to retrieve a sleepy Odette.) Had I repeated 'the Bitch stole my fortune cookies', they might have simply taken me to an Asian-inclined grocery store. As we hit the second story landing, Chaz in the lead, we heard a passel of folks come down toward us from the fourth level.I didn't think there were that many people on the entire floor. Chaz and Pamela each went for their holstered pistol, while keeping them hidden in their jackets. Wiesława, who went for her PDW, backed up so she could fire through the stairs from beneath.Juanita, bless her heart, and Virginia had remained in the S U V because sending in more people would have left us piled into one another. If a firefight did break out, Juanita could bring in some serious hardware to back us up while Virginia called the appropriate authorities before rushing in herself.Around the corner on the third floor landing came a number of women, early/mid-twenties, physically fit, foreign clothes and downcast expressions. A few looked like they were about to cry. They were all in shirts and jeans, with no obvious weapons. Not looking lethal didn't ratchet down Chaz's vigilance. Me? I was instantly reminded how much sex I had been missing."Prince Cáel! You are alive!" spilled out of the first one, a fiery red-head with a billowing, thick mane, porcelain skin and adorable freckles. Her Irish brogue was enchanting. I had to wonder if she cried out in Gaelic during orgasm. Wasn't I about to meet my future bride plus numerous other love interests?She was fit, curvy and wearing an aqua shirt which exposed her midriff with a belly ring bearing a pearl drop, the requisite tattered skin-tight jeans and soft leather calf-boots."Why wouldn't I be alive?" I grinned, like a pirate discovering an all-girls school oceanographic classroom in need of plundering."How do total strangers know how unlikely it is that you would still be alive?" was Chaz's spin on things."We talked with your roommate. He said you had moved to Svalbard where you suffered an excruciating painful, yet richly deserved, death in a lemming stampede," she pouted, "and then the UN had your ashes exiled to Pluto because the Sun was too good for you."9, 10, 11 --12 of them looking, 3 with pale blonde hair that eerily reminded me of my fiancée, another red-head, two russet and five with deep, dark brown, or black hair. They were all fit, fit, fit! With an air of 'I graduated college only to discover: 1) no one was hiring Saline Soil Scientists, or 2) I no longer want to do any of the things I wanted to do when I picked this major. I was familiar with both types.Timothy would have been at work and Odette would have invited the troupe in to regale them with all sorts of tales, which would have included a tour of my bedroom. They clearly had missed Odette so, now I recalled; that particular excuse was one of the ten I had given the guy in 4B should anyone suspicious come calling.I imagine twelve hot, English-as-a-Second-Language girls might be considered, a bit odd. See, his was my address of record. I lied about my actual apartment, so random people who came looking for me went to him instead. This arrangement had been made prior to my understanding of the nature of my employment at Havenstone.I'd neglected, telling him to move out and go far, far away? Poor guy. I'd find a way to make it up to him later."Actually it was a southern vole immigration incident that was set off by the Bulgarian consulate offering repatriation for the first 10,000 applicants," I frowned, clearly traumatized by memory of the incident."These poor southern vole, native to the vacationer-friendly Black Sea resorts, were accidently introduced to the coldest inhabited place in the Northern hemisphere and they've been trying to get home ever since, that would be the equivalent of a century and a half in 'vole-years.""Despite the UN trying to quarantine any news of this Cricetidae catastrophe, I decided to evacuate the six most critically injured vole using a Bortolanza Pluto ultralight, which he must have confused with the UN sending my ashes to Pluto," I explained.Mind you, the 'southern' voles are native to, among other places, Norway, the owner of Svalbard. They were also native to the Bulgarian Black Sea coast so, The Pluto ultra-light, once built in Italy, is now called the 'Puma' and made in Canada, has a maximum range of 675 km, which would leave me crash landing into the Barents Sea, 260 km north of the northernmost airport in Norway, rendering me and my voles so much frozen food."You are an animal rights activist too?" several of the girls gasped. Yes. Yes I was. I was an animal and I was all for me having rights."Please, don't tell anyone about this," I grew serious. "I don't want my philanthropic efforts to be publicized. What I do, I do for the Earth's endangered ecosystems because it is what everyone should do, not because we suddenly feel bad about neglecting it.""E haere koe ki te whai kia nui ai," Pamela snorted. I'd ask her why she knew Maori later, right after I figured why Grandpa knew it."Ko toku mahere whānui," I replied. The girls looked confused."I'm also trying to revitalize endangered languages and revive dead ones. It is more of a hobby than life pursuit," I informed them."You really are a modern-day noble warrior-poet," the red-head leader sighed."Nah. I'm just a guy," I shrugged. "Besides, Ba ch ir fear a bheith ar eolas ag a gn omhais, n  a oidhreacht." (A man should be known by his deeds, not his heritage)."Sa ch s go bhfuil misneach, t  s il agam," she replied using my 'family' motto."Jos on jalot on toivoa,", "Ahol van b tors ga, van rem ny," and "cesaret olduğu yerde umut vardır," all followed. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope' in Finnish, Hungarian and Turkish. I got the sneaking feeling this wasn't a college field trip gone awry. These chicks were coming at me with a purpose that included more than sexual gratification and a kiss good-bye. Ugh."Thank you," I genuflected, paying honor to their reciting of my personal vow. "Anyway, you appear to be looking for me, but I am afraid I don't know any of you. Taking into account that I have a late lunch date with my fiancée in a half-hour and will be taking notes at a feminist convention at 8, what can I do for you?" I was establishing my escape plan."We have come here to join you," an assertive, dusky-skinned one smiled. I had to think about this. I was a bit tired. Taking all twelve of these girls on in one orgy was currently beyond me. I'd do eight tonight and the last four before breakfast tomorrow. Ah, happy thoughts of the Lacrosse Finals."What exactly do you plan to do with Mr. Nyilas?" Chaz interrupted."We are the (Irish) 'Na conairte soith an   S aghdha ar', (Hungarian) 'A szuka kuty kat Herceg Nyilas', (Turkish) 'Prens ok u Kaltak K pekleri' and (Finnish) 'Narttu koirista prinssi jousimies'," they chorused.Pamela snickered. All of those fancy sounding names were variations on 'the Bitch Hounds of Prince Archer/Nyilas (with the Irish going for O'Shea)."You want to be my bodyguards?" I gawked. Lacking lions, the Irish choice of the 'fur-balls of death' were hounds. Being women technically made them 'bitches'. I had to move fast. Any second now Wiesława was going to figure out these over-anxious non-Amazons were trying to replace her."You do realize I've left piles of dead bodies in my wake, right?" I nearly choked. Pamela slapped me on my back."Of course," they sounded so chipper. Fuck you Internet and 'First Person Shooter' games. This wasn't a fucking game! Trained combatants who joined my retinue met grisly ends and this was their freaking profession!"Can I think about it? I mean, do any of you have any combat experience at all? Attacked someone in anger? Send off a blistering instant message?""Some of us have (combat experience I was assuming). We won't let you down.""You do realize Ms. Dubois is going to kill them, don't you Sir?" Chaz sent me a chilling look."Ms. Dubois?", "who is that?" and "kill us?" floated around."Ms. Dubois is my blood-hungry ferret who wears a 'naughty berserker' human suit to trick the masses.""Three of us have military training," one of the Finns spoke up.By that they meant they had volunteered for military service in their native countries, then left after their first term because they found military life to be boring. On the 'plus' side, all but one had martial arts experience and six of the twelve had been a member of a Gun Club of some kind. Yep, Buffy was going to kill them, all twelve at once by herself."I'll make you a deal," I offered. Chaz was giving me his 'I'm a stone yet clearly unhappy with you' face. "At 7:15 tonight, you will show up at Havenstone. I will sign you in, we'll go upstairs to one of the gyms and then warm up for fifteen minutes. When you are ready, or 7:30 rolls around, we are going to the sparing mats. If I lose, you can stay. If you lose, you will write this off as one of a legion of ideas that look good in print yet are foolish in practice. Do you accept?""How many of us do you have to beat for us to join with you and your Crusade?" the lead Irishwoman asked."All of you. I will fight you all at once. The mat space is quite extensive.""You mean all twelve of us against you at the same time?" one of the Turks blinked in disbelief."Yes. I am not disrespecting you, any of you. You've shown initiative, courage and a spirit of adventure. I found all three to be both admirable and worthy of reward (i.e. I will gladly have sex with you). What I am also telling you is of the three people with me, the only one I can most likely defeat in single combat is her," I motioned to Wiesława, "and I'm only saying that because she is 19 and relatively new to the art of killing."Their eyes flickered to Pamela. Chaz was scary without even trying. Pamela could be threatening, or appear harmless, as she wished."Chaz is a professional military man from a long line of diligent warriors and in a branch of service that requires close contact with hostile individuals, teams, tribes, clans and nations.""The woman behind me is much, much worse. I've met precisely three people who could possibly kill her and I killed one of them. Would you agree, Chaz?""Absolutely," he concurred."We know who you two are," a Finn spoke up. She had a dazzling smile and cleavage that had to obscure her toes when she stood."You do?" Pamela played nice. For once, it was technology biting her in the ass, not me. Yay?"You are Rhingyll lliw Siarl Yfory," the Irish lass looked at Chaz. That was Welsh, and meant Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow, I imagined his superiors in the British military weren't going to be happy with any of us, him being a 'secret military operator', emphasis on the 'secret'."And you are Sverkhsekretnykh Shpiona Vsemed Svaya," the Turkish girl pointed at Pamela. Pamela snorted. In Russian that meant 'Super-secret Spy Pamela Pile'. Since Pamela in Russia was pronounced 'Pamela' they had gone back to the origin of the name of Pamela, a fictitious 17th English novelist creation using mangled Hellenic, which translated as 'all-honey'.'All-honey' in Russian was Vsemed. Pamela snickered. Oh yeah, those twelve had combed through millions of articles and pictures to figure out who Chaz was and who Pamela claimed to be. Actually, one of my Hungarian admires back when we were all in Eastern Europe had suggested Pamela was a remorseful ex-SMERSH agent turned Princely-sidekick. Pamela jabbed me, the unspoken 'sidekick' thing.(For those who don't know, in Russian SMERSH loosely means 'Death to Spies', it really existed from 1943 to 1946 and was resurrected by Ian Fleming as a foil for James Bond.)"Chaz, since Cáel is, without a doubt, already having a stupendously wretched day, we must insist he inform Addison of all three of these developments, in person. I want to see the look on her face," Pamela plotted with the man who had thrown himself between me and an explosive vest, probably out of some psychic impulse that I would suffer far, far worse later, like in today, within less than 24 hours of said act."Why am I here again today?" I lowered my head and groaned."Are you okay?" a dozen innocent voices cried out."We are here to pick up Odette," Wiesława reminded me."Oh yeah, fortune cookies," I mumbled."Is 'Fortune Cookie' a nickname for one of your other operatives? Many of them are real enigmas. We can't find out anything about her," one of the Hungarians said. Yeah, because SD doesn't have a Facebook page, or Twitter account. Odette, she was protected by a completely unremarkable lifestyle, but I had a feeling that was fading fast."Excuse us," I asserted myself. "I need to get something on the third floor. Chaz began pushing forward while Pamela had my back."What are you doing?" to me and "Hey, is that a gun?" to Chaz, then Wiesława. Pamela was too sneaky to get caught."I'm here to pick up Agent Fortune Cookie then head out to a meeting with some really shady characters and my fiancée," I informed them."Agent Fortune Cookie," Chaz mused. "She's going to love that,""And then," Pamela continued."She is going to want a gun," I groaned.Oh goddess! No! Chaz had joined Pamela and my 'group think'."No, I have not," Chaz corrected me, about my mental ruminations."I've been coaching him," Pamela faux-consoled me. As my new prospective bodyguards parted for my current bodyguards,"Do you have psychic powers?" "Where is your android?" and "Is it true you can have sex up to ten times a day?""Yes, but we can't talk about it," then, "Which one? We have six models," and finishing up with, "Yes, I can have sex up to ten times a day with each session lasting at least an hour, though I do need breaks for food, drink, quiet romantic conversations and showers, cause shower-sex is so damn fun."While they mulled that over, I unlocked my door in time to see a nicely-dressed (as if she was about to go out on an expensive lunch date) Odette spring off the sofa. Looking at the crowd behind me, she blessed me with an incredibly happy smile."Oh cool! Do we really have enough time for an orgy?"I wanted to cry.(A Family FUNction, minus the 'fun' part)My fiancée giving me a congenial and contented look. Good.My fuck-buddy/friend Libra giving me a salacious 'you and me are going to hook up soon' smile while dressed in a red, 'business suite/slinky number' combo with a plunging neckline. I put her invite on my mental day-planner. Fellas, if you can't keep it in your mind, forget about it. Print equals pain, believe me.Brooke had joined the lunch group, sharing a smile and wink with Libra with the secret agreement for a three-way. Sweet! I could do this, hmm, lunch break Friday, yum-yum-yum. She was wearing a beige business suit with slacks, minus the shirt. Only her cunningly cut jacket kept her goodies from exposure.Hana was a saint for putting up with those two, and me.Buffy was studying me with the clear desire to put me in a dog cage for the rest of the week. Technically she had to produce my body for work Monday. As for the hot, sweaty, intense Brooke-Libra-Cáel m nage   trois, Buffy was reading the undercurrents and setting up a breakwater. At least her attire suggested well-paid, successful international assassin. I wondered if I had paid for her clothing as well. I'd given Chaz's wardrobe a serious upgrade courtesy of Pamela faking my signature.The gathering was rounded out by Mom, Imogen and Deirdre. Thank God they all had different hair styles and forms of dress. Mom was in 'casual-durable' attire, Imogen was going with the military-chic and Deirdre's get up was in the same style as Hana.I was pleasantly pleased that Hana had reserved two adjacent tables for what she assumed would be my support network, Pamela, Odette, Chaz, Wiesława and Juanita, plus Imogen's five and her (Hana's) two Illuminati minders. That made me squeezing my twelve newest over-eager admirers into the mix doable, if not comfortable. Better yet, none of the new girls was dressed for a restaurant this exclusive.Hana was quietly amused. Buffy was volcanic. Thankfully she was being a volcano on the mid-Atlantic ocean ridge ~ submerged."Chaz, Pamela, explain," Buffy seethed."I don't work for you," Pamela playfully bantered back, "Sweet-Cheeks.""They are part of a clandestine operation to provide cooperation and assistance from the European Union," I offered up in such a sincere manner. I almost had them. Buffy looked to Chaz who opted to channeled his 'inner- Cáel'."I can neither confirm nor deny their status as operators from four European nations," he nodded.Buffy forked a helpless appetizer shrimp then catapulted at one of my Finns, I thought it was Oili. It bounced off her bosom. She couldn't even claim to not have seen it coming."What?" Oili gasped."Operatives?" Buffy sizzled at me."Prince Cáel," Flannery asked, "why did that strange woman throw a, shrimp at Oili?""It was a hand-eye coordination test," Odette informed her. "Had Oili been a real spy, you would have snatched up a nearby napkin, deflect the item with the napkin and all while drawing down on her. It is what they do all the time. It is pretty neat to watch.""Why use a napkin?" Oili asked Odette while eyeing Buffy in case another decapod was coming her way."You use a napkin because the shrimp might have a contact poison on it," Odette rolled her eyes. "Buffy used a fork to flip it at you. She didn't use her hands, so the possibility existed." Pamela gave Odette an 'atta girl' high five."Prince Cáel?" Brooke giggled. "What have you been up to?""Okay. I got this. Ladies, may I introduce Annikki, Belgin, Berit, Flannery, Gizi, Ilkay, Kato, Neve, Nuray, Oili, Pirkko and Zsuzsi. These fine women have decided to put their productive lives on hold so they can be my bodyguards," I made the introductions."They have volunteered to be, basically the 'Hounds of Prince O'Shea/Nyilas/Archer'. My Hounds, please let me introduce Hana, my fiancée, Brooke, my close friend, Libra, a sweet & sincere childhood acquaintance, my Mother, Sibeal, my O'Shea aunts, Deidre & Imogen and Kalmarasērmi Buffy."Despite the absurdity of the situation and my clear irresponsibility, Buffy let a smile crease her frown. 'Kalmarasērmi' was my term for her in the Amazon language = my Mountaintop."I will volunteer my facilities to train them," Aunt Imogen offered me drolly. She was the primary trainer for all O'Shea guardians/Special Forces."Train us?" a half dozen voices murmured."Yes Child. I am Imogen O'Shea, Cáel is the greatest treasure in my life and I have serious doubts any of you can be anything more than distracting bullet-catchers for my favorite (and only) nephew. It annoys me to think you are yet another walking advertisement showing him to be both big-hearted and soft-headed.""I will offer prayers upon the mounds of my ancestors (lie, her only 'ancestor' refused to stay buried) for Cáel's safety. You should invoke whatever supernatural entity you place faith in to keep Cáel safe as well, because if he gets so much as a scratch defending any one of you, I will exercise my nearly endless knowledge of human pain to make you pay.""Is she Ms. Dubois?" Flannery asked Odette."That would be me," Buffy showered fury their way."Do you really want to kill us?" Neve tried to stare Buffy down."Until ten seconds ago, Yes. Now I want to hand you over to these two," she motioned to Deidre and Imogen with her fork."Prince Cáel, why are they all so hostile?" Flannery requested understanding from me. "We have come here to help you. We have skills. All we are asking if for a chance to prove ourselves to you.""To Us," Buffy snapped. "Cáel's vote doesn't count.""Chill, Buffy," I snapped back. "I'm dealing with this, and your lack of trust is pissing me off.""Buffy," Hana intervened. She placed a hand on Buffy's thigh out of sight, yet not outside of my notice. "When was the last time Cáel failed to take your advice on something life-critical? These young ladies appear to be honest and diligent. If not, Pamela and the Color Sergeant wouldn't have let them come here, or near Odette."If I dated dumber women I would have less explaining (lying) to do, but I'd miss the challenge both inside and outside the bedroom. Hana's deft touch and gentle words calmed Buffy more than anything (outside of a righteous cocking) I could have accomplished. I was suddenly seized with the realization there was a goodly number of Katrina's positive attributes in Hana. How had I missed it?"Marrying you is going to be Hana's first step toward mortal beatification," Brooke teased me. Normally only dead people were made saints."A Servant of, probably not Jehovah. I think everyone at the table can agree she has interacted with supernatural forces," Sibeal hid her joking well."Martyring her hopes of monogamy?" Deidre's fey gaze flickered over the women of note (the women at the main table)."Her Heroic Virtue is Prudence?" Buffy added. Buffy had been Catholic?"Ladies, I'm Lutheran. We don't normally venerate saints. Joking aside, I was given a reason to believe this lunch date was important on a social level between myself and my fianc . Food would be nice too."Brooke and Libra's presence regulated Pamela and Chaz to an adjacent table. A waiter slipped in, took my order, I decided to forgo an appetizer because I was late, then the conversation began."Hana, this is my Mother, Sibeal Nyilas. Imogen and Deidre are my family from Ireland," I made the introductions, most definitely unnecessarily. I was buying time to get a better read on the women around me."I know," Hana showered me with mature compassion."Get to it, damn you," Buffy huffed."Wow, I'm thinking of the best way to tell you this," I barely could meet Hana's eyes."I am pregnant with your fianc 's child," Imogen cut to the chase. What she said was delivered on purpose. Imogen wasn't as socially maladjusted as Rachel. The fewer women in my life, the easier the O'Shea would have roping me in. Imogen's words were meant to hurt Hana and drive a wedge between us."You too?" Hana's sad eyes studied Imogen. She hid her anger-disappointment-disgust well. In this crowd her efforts to obfuscate her feeling only worked on Libra and Brooke. Those two ladies were less astute at concealing their surprise."She's your aunt, right?" Libra's look settled on me instead of a blatant Imogen, or a pained Hana."No," Mom answered for me. "My sisters and I were born sterile. It is impossible that our paternal heritage has been passed along. Whatever Imogen's maternal contribution was, it is not from our DNA. My sister does have a child inside her, Havenstone verified it and will have the precise genetic make-up within 24 hours," she persisted (lying)."If Cáel has a failing, it is that he was seduced by my sisters who played upon his very confusing Mother-Son relationship. I faked my death when he was seven. I 'died' in a quite painful manner and he had to watch helplessly as he witnessed me wasting away. I did such a horrible thing to a young boy because the people who were hunting me down, the two O'Shea before you and the nine who aren't here, would have used numerous means of torture to verify my death."(Until they realized 'what' I was. Then my imprisonment would have begun)"My wonderful husband would have died without giving them the truth. It was too much to ask of our son. For fifteen years he believed me dead. He learned the truth at his Father's funeral. I believe every woman at this table knows my son doesn't handle emotional pain well.""Imogen's statement was a thinly-veiled stab at Hana's heart and a kick to my son's sense of responsibility to both Hana and his unborn child. How could this not hurt Hana? How could Cáel possibly respond, torn between the woman who has already sacrificed so much of her happiness for a man barely aware of his own maturity, and the woman bringing his child into the world?""Good one, Imogen. Those two are better than you, or I. By all means, make a mockery of my son, your nephew, who has pledged to fight for your life when he should clearly walk away and let the rest of you die. He asks nothing of you yet you feel no remorse at sullying his happiness.""There are ten good reasons for you getting up and walking out of here intact right now. There are six better reasons for making you pay for your cruelty," she threatened."Ten?" Brooke whispered."The sisters' five bodyguards, the two body guards they gifted me with, Deidre, Imogen and Cáel. You don't think he would let the woman bearing his child take a beating, do you Brooke?" Hana enlightened her."No.""The Six?" Libra scanned the room."My other two bodyguards won't act unless I am directly threatened. They won't be out to hurt anyone. If anyone tries to hurt me, they will jump straight to the making them dead option. The 'Six' are Buffy, Pamela, Chaz, Juanita, Special Agent Maddox and Sibeal.""We'd help," Libra insisted. Brooke was onboard with that proclamation."No," came forth from Hana, Mom and me."Brooke and Libra; you two, Odette, the other twelve and the wait staff will only confuse the issue. My sisters and their soldiers will use you and the rest to distract Cáel. Except for Ms. Maddox, the rest won't give a fuck so your best bet is to hit the deck and let the professionals deal with things," Mom clarified."Brooke, Libra, this is a wacko chicks with guns moment," I put things in perspective."Hana?" Libra put a hand on Hana's shoulder."Don't mind me," she patted Libra's hand. "I'm diving for cover and not getting up until you, Brooke, Cáel, or Buffy tell me to get up. Sorry Sibeal, but I don't know you that well yet.""I understand," Mom agreed.To punctuate the awkwardness of the moment, Aisha (the Arabic swimsuit model) and three other SD ladies waltzed into the place and took a table. When the maytre dee tried to impede them, Aisha threatened to exterminate his entire extended family with a look alone. Been there, done that, and the maytre dee was nowhere close to being in my league.I had to think that through. Had Buffy called them, the SD would have been here before I arrived. Pamela was a possibility, except the SD still hated her over Constanza's maiming. If she told them my life 'was' in danger, they would still show up. My life wasn't in danger and Pamela wouldn't yank their chain.It had to be Juanita. The head of my bodyguard telling Elsa that I was in an exposed position with 9 armed Illuminati would have elicited this level of response. Pamela prodded Odette. Odette had a 'what do you want me to do' non-verbal exchange with Pamela then got up and went over to Aisha.Odette even remembered to navigate the room in such a manner Aisha and her team could keep an uninterrupted view of the threat. Pamela and Chaz's lessons were paying off. They weren't training her in the lethal arts. They were showing her how to not be an obstacle, which was better, given our current circumstances."Hana, don't hate Imogen. The only parent she's ever known was Granddad," I returned my attention to the crisis at hand."Oh, I'm sorry," Hana sent sympathetic waves Imogen's way. If there was a hint of 'you bitch' hidden within those words, none of us would admit it."Yes, yes," Imogen smiled back. "Father was a real troll.""That's not true," Hana responded. "I've met him and he has always been very nice to me. It was easy for me to look past the nations of dead he's murdered, his propensity to rape his daughters and his plans to destroy my Cáel.""I don't hold you to blame for not protecting Cáel more than you have. He's a handful and reminds you of your Father, the mass-murdering rapist. And Imogen, don't try to hurt Cáel using me again, you Bitch. I'm not a part of your circus. That doesn't render me powerless. I love more than I hate. I count a person great by the lives they save, not those they take. Where there is Valor, there is Hope and my fianc  has both in spades. Do we understand one another?""Proving you are smarter than Ms. Sievert is not something which equates to being a threat," Deidre countered."Cáel, why aren't you saying something?" Brooke whispered to me."Because he knows better," Mom grinned. "This is a battle Hana has to win, or lose, on her own.""Cáel has plenty of women willing to go behind his back and kill people, Brooke. Now, if Hana asks for such a favor, we know it is not over some petty bullshit," rolled menacingly forth from Buffy as her feral countenance made a few of the Illuminati at the next table nervous."That won't be necessary," I broke up the tension. "We are as dysfunctional a family as they come, but we are family and we will all treat one another as such by the standards of the only one who matters. Clear?""You?" Deidre soothed me."No. Ferko Nyilas', my Father and the best man I've ever known. He taught me to never make excuses for your own behavior. Surrendering our control over our lives is a cop-out. If you want to continue acting like the creepy-ass bitch daughters of Cáel O'Shea, so be it. That is your choice to make. I care for you.""I care enough for you to fight Granddad over your futures. I hope all of you know I mean what I say. Whatever you decide to do, no matter how you act, I will always love you. I've made my choices and I am going to hold you responsible for yours. Let's eat lunch. It has been a rough fucking day and it isn't over yet."If there was ever any doubt, I destroyed those twelve hopeful bodyguards on the mats. They possessed neither the skill nor the savagery necessary in a warrior culture. We Amazons didn't recoil from pain. Our sisters' lives were on the line. That was why you practiced no-holds-barred fighting with, or without, weapons."We can learn," the lead Finn protested. The rest were getting over the physical and spiritual pain of being so easily beaten."My normal bodyguards go through three years of intense 24/7 training. Being a member of that elite body means you train in all forms of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat techniques.""Once you've mastered the core physical and skill baseline requirements, and this core training never stops, no point is considered 'good enough', you begin learning at least two specialties. Those are disciplines such as close-protection, sniping, small unit tactics, infiltration, battlefield medicine, electronics, computing, communication systems, linguistics and 'training' expertise.""In my current team, the ones who fought at my side in Hungry and Romania, all have three specialties. Discounting their regimen since the age of five, each had been on the job in a professional capacity at least six years. The leader had eleven years in.""Finally, when you are at that level of excellence, you need a specific mindset. What you need to do is think why you shouldn't kill someone, not if you should. If there is any doubt, you strike. If you hesitate, someone close to you might be killed, not just me.""Look around you. If you aren't ready to kill for any of your companions, you will never cut it. Now, I'm going to have you shown out. I will have taxis take you back to your hotel. Think about it. Seriously, think about dedicating yourself to more than some stranger you've met on the internet.""You will be dedicating yourself to the other elven women in your group, to the death. That is the level of spiritual dedication it takes to be at my side. Go, take a rest, talk it over, search your souls. Call me if any of you want to continue and we can have lunch Sunday and make plans. Questions?""Do the other women around you do this, make those choices?" one of the Turkish women frowned while nursing a bruised jaw."No. They have it worse. They have thrown their old lives away, never to return. Each and every one has either murdered a human being, or attempted to, before they are even considered for the task.""Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having his conversation. You would never be given the chance. You are woefully unqualified in every way except spirit. Your willingness to cross the Atlantic to make your offers resonates with me, so I am both warning you this is horrible, horrible path you are taking and I am explaining precisely how slender any of your chances are of accomplishing your goals.""I, I don't know," whispered one of the Hungarian lasses."At the Seven Skulls, I led three such women into combat (Rachel, Charlotte and Saku) against a group of warriors who were fighting free of 500 elite Romanian Mountain Troops. Of the Romanians, nearly 200 were either dead, or wounded. The FBI Special Agent we took with us was badly wounded."One of the three was killed, a head shot, and the remainder left her body where she had fallen because the enemy were still out there and they had to protect me. The world will not bend to your sensitivities. Life around me is exceedingly dangerous and unforgiving," I finished.No immediate consensus united them. Fear and disbelief were the major vibes I was picking up. None of them were angry, insulted, or overly terrified."Time for you to go," Buffy concluded our meeting. "Tigger Maeve and Dora Farānak, would you please see Cáel's guests to the lobby." A new pleasure of Buffy's was using the House names of the Full-bloods she interacted with.I have taken a few mystic liberties:Maeve was a Celtic War Goddess ~ the Enslaver of Men.Farānak was a Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress.As for the other new hires:Daphne was, as explained earlier, of House Cotyttia (Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter)Fabiola was of House Minerva (Roman Goddess of War & Strategy)Violet Maza was in House Oshun, the Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits.Paula Wadena was of House Cybele (Phrygian Earth Mother, Guardian of the Lion Throne)}They were dismissed and smart enough to know that was the best possible answer to their current predicament, learning your romantic adventure was actually a gory supernatural battle for survival. A growing number of Isharans had been gathering while I dealt with the wannabes. A few were amused, perhaps even understanding, of my actions.Soon enough, using her position as Record Keeper of House Ishara, Helena cajoled the other Amazons into giving us peace and quiet. Not all left. Watching a jury-rigged House Ishara work through its business in a semi-public setting was an event both unlooked for and possibly enlightening.For this gathering, we had 122 of the 159 members. The missing members were not close enough, or were providing a critical function that wouldn't allow them to be in New York on this night."Sisters, a moment of personal prayer for each of us to seek guidance from our Ancestors as we seek to continue their legacy," I intoned softly, calling the meeting to order.I had barely opened my eyes, failing to get any inspiration from Yakko, when the struggle began."Why are we including them in a House Ishara meeting?" Madori pointed out the three 'new hires' who were sticking around."Memasant (Amazon for to speak true)," I answered her. Since Daphne, Paula and Violet had clearly been sitting among us before the meeting began, I gave Buffy a disappointing frown. "Ishara respects these three for teaching the rest of you the Amazon language so that we can teach it to others, thus all of you becoming able to engage all our sisters in our native tongue.""I doubt any other House would extend this honor to others. Thankfully, we are not like any other House. We know better. We have all been outsiders. We aren't a 'normal' House and I am working toward us never being one. We have to be kind and just when necessary, and forgive when it is what the Host needs.""We will do this because we Isharans alone will decide on the prestige of our sisters. If the other Houses make an issue of it, who cares? None of them have made the sacrifices necessary to be Isharans. I know that you have not all gathered here tonight to hear me pontificate. Who wants to be first?""Will you accept a challenge?" Madori stood up. We had spread out in a ring, two Amazons deep, along the edges of the mats. I had never sat down."Put forth your complaint," I responded."You emphasize duties other than that of a House Head. You don't take the time to show up at initiation ceremonies. In essence, you ignore your sisters to advance your own prestige.""Yes, I am not showing up at the initiation ceremonies.""Yes, I prioritize other activities over running the day-to-day operations of our House.""Yes, you are utterly ignoring the two Amazons sitting at either side of me. I chose Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara to lead this House because I knew I would have others issues coming up in my life concerning the Host.""Buffy, are you challenging me?""No, Wakko Ishara," she responded angrily. She wasn't angry with me. She had chosen the majority of the assembly and they were turning on me, thus her."Helena, are you challenging me?""No Wakko Ishara. I am intimately familiar with your work and the dangers you constantly confront for the greater Host," she answered in an equally hostile tone."Now that the issue of relevance has been dealt with, I will accept any challenge from any of you selfish, bigoted, power-hungry cunts who wish to put your own self-interest above that of our House. By all means, stumble over one another for the top spot," I mocked them. I'd played nice. No more.It was telling that my classification of any challenger was completely ignored. Madori and five supporters stood. In theory, challenges were the rare 1-on-1 Amazon experience. Another Amazon, Arianne, stood with another supporter."Cool beans," I nodded.I backed up, stepped off the mats and picked up the four axes I had pre-prepared. Back on the mat I went past my handful of supporters, brandished two weapons and advanced a quarter way onto the sparring area. The mass of my opponents muttered in confusion and resentment."Ishara, we have not trained in archaic weapons. Most of our facilities never had then," Madori protested."Amazons don't play fair," I glared. Several migrated to the walls to pick out whatever looked the least daunting. Buffy, Helena, Marsha, Daphne Cotyttia, Violet Oshun and Paula Cybele did likewise."Is this how you want to answer a challenge for leadership?" Madori glowered. "Cheating, utilizing a clear advantage in a farce of equality and justice?""No. Please step back and call every member of JIKIT," my eyes narrowed. "How about this, call the Amazon's contact with the Earth & Sky? Can't do that either? How about convince the 9 Clans to help us pursue a House obligation?""You duties as Chief Diplomat are not that of Isharan House Head and actually make you less of a House Head," she countered. She had chosen a short spear, using it two-handed. And that made Katrina what precisely?"I should fucking kill you," Buffy snarled."Madori Ishara, Dot-Ishara is not the Goddess of Scrabble. She is not the Goddess of," and Madori tried to catch me flat-footed with a spear-thrust. I was appalled at how easy I dealt with her. My right axe diverted her spear enough so when I twisted my stance, she missed. I placed the head of my left axe on her shoulder, blade against her throat."Madori, you lose. Sit back down and contemplate that you were beaten by a 22 year old man," I seethed. There was no 'you didn't give me a chance' bullshit. She had struggled for advancement in the Amazon way. Such people weren't crybabies. "Next."Arianne approached me with a shield and short sword. My read on the situation was she was going to use acrobatics to compensate for my superior reach. I readied myself."I don't suppose you would accept a suggestion we fight unarmed?" she put out there. I took two steps toward her then dropped my axes."I trust you," I looked down at her. I could see the 'oh, fuck me' written all over her face. The unfairness had been tossed in her lap. She put the point of her leaf-shaped blade under the left side of my ribcage, close to my kidney."Yield.""Never.""Yield, or I will kill you."I took a quarter-inch penetration when I clamped down on her right wrist and slammed my elbow into her face. A quick exchange of footwork ended up with both of us on the mat, Arianne on her back, sword pinned to the mat and her shield trapped between us. Head-butt followed head-butt until she was unresponsive.I stood up, blood oozing down my side."Water!" I barked. A bottled water was rolled my way. Three more Amazons were sizing me up. This challenge phase was far from over. I splashed water down on Arianne's face until she sputtered into wakefulness."Pathetic," I sneered at her. "This House is worth any and all of our lives. If you were the best candidate to lead this house and I refused to yield, then why did you spare me? Not only could you not kill me when you clearly could, you failed to do so even when it became an unequal contest of arms."Arianne was shamed and furious. I was treating her like a presumptuous, outsider woman."I'm feeling particularly generous in victory, Arianne, don't you dare stand up," I growled when she tried. "I will not kill you for your disrespect. I will not exile you from our House because doing so would show both of us failing to grasp one of the key principles of our People, learn. Learn and keep learning. A loss is nothing more than a temporary setback. Learn, don't repeat the same mistake twice and never stop striving for success until you take yourself to the cliffs."One of the two newes

Guest Sean Goggins Panelist Richard Littauer Show Notes In this episode of Sustain, host Richard Littauer chats with guest Sean Goggins, a tenured full Professor of Computer Science at the University of Missouri. Sean discusses his extensive involvement in the open source community, particularly through his work with the CHAOSS Project, a Linux Foundation initiative focused on understanding and improving open-source project sustainability. Their conversation covers Sean's academic background, his role in CHAOSS, the importance of distributed leadership, and how metrics can impact the sustainability of open source projects. Sean also shares insights into his teaching methods, the challenges of maintaining open source software, and the future direction of his work on CHAOSS and Augur. Hit the download button now! [00:01:25] Sean shares that he's a professor specializing in software engineering, algorithms, data science, and visualization, and he discusses his tenure status and passion for research and open source work. [00:02:41] Sean explains how open source leadership is distributed rather than centralized. [00:04:45] We hear how the CHAOSS Project emerged from studying open source governance and leadership. Sean and Matt Germonprez started working on open source collaboration data and a metrics-focused discussion at a Linux Foundation Summit that led to the founding of the CHAOSS Project in 2017. [00:08:23] Richard asks Sean how he balances research, teaching, and open source. Sean discusses how he splits time between research (40%), teaching (40%), and service (20%), with CHAOSS being a major part of his research efforts. [00:13:27] Sean explains that the Augur Project was born out of a need for structured open source data tracking. [00:15:18] Richard asks Sean if he teaches his students about open source, and he explains that he uses CHAOSS and Auger to teach students about GitHub collaboration, pull requests, and open source workflows. [00:19:25] Sean shares his insights on research and open source. He emphasizes his involvement in maintaining software and aiding organizations in making sense of CHAOSS metrics through Augur, which has given him a deep understanding of open source development. [00:20:44] Sean explains why he thinks metrics help make projects more sustainable and how the CHAOSS community has benefitted from fostering a welcoming environment for both technical and non-technical contributors. [00:25:23] We hear some challenges within CHAOSS where it's been difficult to build a strong developer community around CHAOSS software tools and maintaining open source software requires significant effort. [00:28:11] He goes further to explain how to be a better project and that there's potential for improving project sustainability through structured mentoring and governance. [00:35:07] Sean shares CHAOSS Project's future and research goals. Quotes [00:03:46] “Distributed leadership: this exists in most of open source. There's not often a single individual who drives an entire project.” [00:09:18] “You have 40% of your time for teaching, 40% of your time for research, and 20% of your time for service.” [00:12:15] “There's a challenge of being a university professor. The advantage is you can do what you want, the challenge is that you have to set your own boundaries.” [00:23:12] “A leading indicator for community health is how many newcomers you have coming in over time.” [00:28:14] “How can I have a better project? It's the same as going to a family reunion and saying, ‘How can we be a better family'?” Spotlight [00:37:25] Richard's spotlight is BibtexParser. [00:38:21] Sean's spotlight is Stuart Geiger. Links SustainOSS (https://sustainoss.org/) podcast@sustainoss.org (mailto:podcast@sustainoss.org) richard@sustainoss.org (mailto:richard@sustainoss.org) SustainOSS Discourse (https://discourse.sustainoss.org/) SustainOSS Mastodon (https://mastodon.social/tags/sustainoss) Open Collective-SustainOSS (Contribute) (https://opencollective.com/sustainoss) Richard Littauer Socials (https://www.burntfen.com/2023-05-30/socials) Sean Goggins Website (https://www.seangoggins.net/) Sean Goggins X (https://x.com/sociallycompute) Nora McDonald Website (https://www.noramcdonald.net/) Nora McDonald-Commonwealth Cyber Initiative (https://cyberinitiative.org/research/researcher-directory/mcdonald-nora.html) Sustain Podcast- 3 episodes featuring guest Georg Link (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/georg-link) Sustain Podcast- 2 episodes featuring guest Dawn Foster (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/foster) Matt Germonprez-Univ. of Nebraska Omaha (https://www.unomaha.edu/college-of-information-science-and-technology/about/faculty-staff/matt-germonprez.php) The Linux Kernel Maintainer Summit-Tokyo, Japan 2025 (https://events.linuxfoundation.org/linux-kernel-maintainer-summit/) Alfred P. Sloan Foundation (https://sloan.org/) CHAOSS (https://chaoss.community/) CHAOSS-GrimoireLab (https://chaoss.github.io/grimoirelab/) CHAOSS-Augur (https://github.com/chaoss/augur) Kelly Blincoe-University of Auckland (https://profiles.auckland.ac.nz/k-blincoe) James Howison (https://james.howison.name/) Sustain Podcast- episode 218 featuring guest James Howison (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/james-howison) Sustain Podcast-episode 243 featuring guest Elizabeth Barron (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/elizabeth-barron) Sustain Podcast-episode 65 featuring guest Brian Proffitt (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/briant-proffitt) Sustain Podcast-2 episodes featuring guest Duane O'Brien (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/duane-obrien) Sustain Podcast-episode 200 featuring guest Stuart Geiger (https://podcast.sustainoss.org/guests/geiger) Digital Infrastructure Podcast- 2 episodes featuring guest Rayya El Zein (https://dif.fireside.fm/guests/rayya-el-zein) BibtexParser (https://bibtexparser.readthedocs.io/en/main/) Stuart Geiger (https://css.ucsd.edu/people/profiles/sgeiger.html) Credits Produced by Richard Littauer (https://www.burntfen.com/) Edited by Paul M. Bahr at Peachtree Sound (https://www.peachtreesound.com/) Show notes by DeAnn Bahr Peachtree Sound (https://www.peachtreesound.com/) Special Guest: Sean Goggins.

As CDL’s leadership battle and stock plunge unsettle investors, we explore potential merger outcomes and what they could mean for minority shareholders. Meanwhile, global markets react to Trump’s escalating foreign policy shifts, sparking fears of rising U.S. isolationism. Could this reshape trade, investment flows, and financial stability? Plus, Bitcoin’s 20% surge following its inclusion in the U.S. strategic reserve - what does this signal for institutional adoption and crypto markets? Rainman David Sacks gets a mention in this conversation between Michelle Martin and guest Arun Pai from the investments team at Monk’s Hill Ventures.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The sparks before the ignition of war.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Time is not your enemy any more than breathing and your heartbeat are inconvenient."Aya, Why don't you go help Saku," I rechanneled Aya's boundless energy. "Back in the day, every noble was attended to by squires who took care of their gear and served that noble as body servants. In turn, she taught them the art of war." Sakuniyas shot me a nasty look.Aya poked her head between Pamela and Miyako."That sounds like fun," she met Saku's glacial chill with a warm spring breeze."I don't want their help," she grumbled."It sounds like free labor," Pamela smirked."I said I don't want their help," Saku snarled."Okay," I rolled my eyes. "Aya, Fatal Squirts, attention!" They all looked at me. "I command you, as your Celestial Potentate Poohbah, to stare at Sakuniyas until she gives you a task of a personal, to her, nature to do. Get at it."Four sets of precocious, will-eroding cuteness assaulted the Assyrian Queen, victor of a hundred battles and skirmishes."You are despicable," was Saku's chosen acidic barb."I second that motion," Pamela patted me on the back. "I keep finding myself being prouder and prouder of you, every day. Stop it," she teased me.None of those words dampened my mood, or my plan."How much longer is this flight going to take?" Saku groused."Four hours," I lied. It was way closer to two.To my way of thinking, it wasn't like she could get much angrier with me after she discovered my ruse. (I was wrong. She could and did. I'm an idiot.) Saku shook her head, and the task-mastering began. An hour and forty-five minutes later, the pilot alerted us that we were ten minutes from our final approach. Bits and pieces of her armor were all over the front seats and the floor of the exit-way space.Diligent little fingers were still polishing and checking straps for signs of excessive wear or fabric fatigue. Their 'noble' hovered over them, pointing out the right way to do things and what they were doing wrong. Her congratulating them for doing a good job was rather non-Amazon of her, but the kids ate it up.With the ten minute warning still hanging in the air, my duplicity inspired Saku to finally flip out. I was pretty sure she didn't think through what she was doing. She simply drew her 22cm/9in blade and threw it at my face. Miyako caught it between her hands, an effortless clap, fuck."Four hours!" Saku howled at me. "You said we had four hours, I could have held them off for two!""Why do you think I lied to you?" I kept my amusement out of my tone because I was rather attached to the idea of my wagging tongue not being cut out of my mouth.It wasn't lost on us that every member of my SD team was alert and had blades drawn (firefights on planes in mid-flight is severely frowned upon) and were staring at her. I wanted to tell Rachel to 'stand down', except that would be unfair. I wasn't 100% sure Saku was done being furious with me.Telling Rachel to set aside her instincts was something I tried to keep a minimum, only to be used when it I was forced to take in the bigger picture."What is going on here?" Rachel asked with professional calm. So, I told her the truth, the real truth."Oh," Rachel grunted. She gave a motion for her team to rest easy then came my way."Knife," she held out a hand to Miyako who instantly gave it over, pommel first. Rachel deftly flipped it over so she was holding the razor sharp blade then smacked me on the top of my head, hard."Ow, " I whined. "That hurt.""It was supposed to," Rachel glared. She walked down the aisle to Saku, returning her blade."Did you just smack him in the head?" Saku was trying to make sense of what she'd seen."Yes," Rachel nodded."He screwed up and I impressed upon him to not do it again. As you might guess, this is a fairly regular occurrence with him. We all take wicked-fine pleasure in that part of his education.""But you are his bodyguards, is he really the Head of House Ishara, or was that a lie as well?" Saku was still confused by her prideful arrogance and how I was misplacing my own."Sakuniyas, Cáel was not raised in our culture. He has only been a member of the Host for a few weeks. This is not to belittle his impressive education," Pamela intervened. "Both he, and those of the House who know him, agree that the occasional physical chastisement works better than words alone.""You could reward me with sex," I muttered. "Positive reinforcement, ""Forty-six days, Bitch," Rachel growled."You are ferocious in battle, fearless and clever," Saku turned back to me. "Why do you put up with this constant degradation?""Degradation? I'm not insulted by what Rachel did or said," I retorted. "She is trying to teach me things I need to know if I'm going to survive. I respect her superior knowledge in her professional capacity," I continued. "I don't get upset when people tease, taunt, or challenge Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara, that's me, if you are confused.I save my indignation for those who scorn Dot Ishara, Yakko Ishara and all members of House Ishara, past and present. Quite frankly, being disrespectful to me is actually rather difficult because I only care about the sensibilities of a handful of people.""How can any warriors follow a leader into battle if that person has no pride and never shies away from shame?And besides, what is this Wakko/Dot/Yakko nonsense," Saku persisted. "Fatal Squirts, start assembling my armor." Her attention was split between me and her panoply."Hello," I snickered. "I'm a male Amazon. The fact that I haven't run for my life way before now is all the heroic background check anyone should require.Doubting my common sense actually makes sense. Doubting my courage, or loyalty is idiotic in too many ways to count. As for revealing the hallowed and revered enigmatic occult appellations of my House, " I started."Get him!" Tiger Lily showed some faux-outrage."Shit!" I cried out as Delilah, Tiger Lily and the rest of the SD swarmed me. Pamela and Miyako were of no help whatsoever. I could not express my joy more at the resulting physical abuse and humiliation aimed my way. I was tickled. Yes, my Kick-Ass, full-blood, natural born killers pinned me down and tickled me until I nearly peed on myself.In a very short period of time, we'd shared some really nerve-racking moments. Dad dying, my showdown with Hayden, being mugged by Carrig and the rest of the crap that rained down blow after blow once I came out of my coma. They had taken me numerous times to the hospital and had to sit back helplessly while I suffered. Yet, I refused to be repressed by circumstance.I fought for our people, OUR people now, both with the Earth  and  Sky in shared counsel and the Seven Pillars on the battlefield. Rachel hadn't given me word-one of a reprimand for leaving Charlotte to raise the alarm while I rushed into danger. I was an Amazon in her eyes. Charlotte could fix the phone. Miyako and I could not. The bridge had to be secured immediately.We couldn't wait on Charlotte. I didn't even act as if what I did was all that brave. Rachel knew me far better now; she wouldn't make that mistake. Had I been able to fix the phone, I would have stayed and sent Charlotte. Had the whole team been there and Rachel told me to stay, I would have stayed while they ran into the fight.No. The situation hadn't allowed that, so I had killed a number of men and been wounded. The backside of my right thigh had merely been grazed (which my normally mangled left side found to be grossly unfair.) That was another scar to add to my 'sexy'. I had fought in my own insane manner and was alive solely because Saku had decided to shoot another man instead of me.Even after I knew who she was, I had allied with her and charged the rear of the enemy troop convoy. In the after-battle analysis, they weren't sure how many Seven Pillar Special Forces I had killed, both in the gulch and when I annihilated the back section of the attack column, and took my impromptu flying lesson.Credit for destroying the bridge jacks, thus making the BBQ a carnal cookout featuring Chinese 'Long-Pig', was still hanging out there as well. Rachel and company were still pissed with me despite all that. Why? On a purely personal level, they realized they would miss me if I got myself killed. They were not supposed to feel that way about their protectee.I certainly wasn't their first protective detail, though they were starting to believe I'd be their last. No, I had done everything right, by going into harm's way, and they were furious with the universe for placing us in that situation. Since the universe wasn't offering itself up to be punished, it fell on me to soak up their pique.Delilah was simply picking on me because she could get away with it this time."You are all embarrassments," Saku remarked bitterly once my screams began breathless pleas for mercy. "The Host has fallen a great way since my day." What a killjoy. I finally got my breath back."And the Queen on the floor of the Royal chambers, pushing around toy chariots with her two eldest sons and a child-playmate, was the height of decorum."Well, if looks could kill, I would have never made my nineteenth birthday, so Saku's glare was just another walk in the park."That was a personal moment with my family. It was a very private moment," she sizzled."My Mother's line is, it is what it is. My Father was murdered. My Father's sister and I were never close. These people are my family and my choice of kin.""English," Pamela chided us."Having no family to call your own, you welcome so many that 'family' has no meaning," Saku angrily mocked my words.There was a hushed moment then everyone but the three other Squirts and Saku started laughing. The three kids didn't know me either."By what metric do you measure family by?" I snickered."On his third day on the job, Fehér mén (Aya's pet name for me, White Stallion in the Magyar tongue, it is complicated) threw his body over my sisters and me to protect us," Aya said."He spared my foster-sister when she gravely insulted him," Mona volunteered. "He didn't know me. The Amazon, Constanza, would have died by anyone else's hand, except his. You may look down your nose at his mercy. As you do so, consider that it is his mercy that allows you to feel that way about him, and us right now." Whoa,"I have never seen him fight out of pride, or take joy in any combat," Rachel stared down Saku. "My only fear is that Cáel will get himself killed saving my life, or the life of any member of my team. He knows it is wrong. He knows I will be absolutely furious with him, and he accepts that. He is like no other Amazon I have ever known.We have limits. We follow orders. At our best, we put the welfare of the Host over our own survival. Not Ishara, Wakko Ishara. He follows the dictates of his house and those are to seek mercy and peace where appropriate. He is like no Amazon I have ever known, and I have zero doubt that he is one of the best Amazons I will ever know," she finished with a chuckle."I'm speaking my mind, aren't I?" she asked me."Afraid so, sorry about that," I apologized for corrupting her social skills."Saku, your mistake is that you confuse his caring about you and caring about your opinion of him," Pamela finished things up."Sakuniyas, I will work to honor my pledge to you. I will try to keep you alive because you can be a powerful ally of the Host, but also because it is the right thing to do," I enlightened her. "That doesn't make you all that special though. Personally I think you are a horrible, bitter bitch and lousy company for any non-masochist.I'm going to help you in the same way I'm going to help everyone else here. This is despite me feeling confident that not a single Amazon on this planet has a living father. They've never had brothers because their mothers murdered them. Your crappy attitude doesn't influence me one way, or the other. You are a horrible fucking person born to a horrible fucking race, my race, the Amazon Host.""You kill your fathers and sons," Delilah mumbled as she looked from face to face, finding not a single bit of denial, or shame. "I thought that was so much Greek bull's buttocks.""Nope," Aya shrugged. "Before I left for camp, Momma told me they put Daddy, my other Daddy, down when I was two." Kind of like Old Yeller, or Benji. "His name was Paul Twelve."Delilah looked at me with downright worrisome eyes."Yeah, I figured that out on day two on-the- job," I relayed to her. "For the past 2500 years, every male child of the Host has been tossed off a cliff to his death, or left out in the wilds for predators to devour. Every male they have kidnapped has been under a death sentence from the moment of capture.They tried to genetically breed their captive male population with Amazon females, but something went wrong. The males began passing on genetic defects that poisoned the race. In response, they have begun recruiting men, such as myself, and exterminating their old male breeding populace.Initially, I didn't run because I was sure they would hunt me down and kill me. Later, later I came to like enough of the Host to decide that knowing what was going on meant I couldn't let it slide. I couldn't leave this issue for someone else to tackle. I know I'm facing long odds, yet I'll never succeed if I don't try," I wrapped up my little my 'Cáel's Amazon Primer' lecture."Okay, okay, Cáel you are blood nuts, and hellishly brave. The rest of you are just hellish, killing your own kin as infants or if they get too old," Delilah sputtered. "That's plain wrong.""I had sons," Saku stated. "They grew into fine, strong warriors. My daughters married into the nobility.""Delilah, we don't expect you to understand our culture. Twice in our people's history, men have tried to eliminate our society, stealing our homes and property, and enslaving our children and sisters. We let down our guard once, and that nearly destroyed us, except we now have Cáel and a better understanding of what happened that second time," Tiger Lily educated Delilah."It turned out that not all males betrayed us. No, when we needed them the most, they sacrificed themselves for the welfare of our people and we repaid that loyalty with anger and barbarism. That is a burden we have carried all these centuries without understanding it. Only within the past month has the real truth about the Second Betrayal become known.Many of us are now re-evaluating the dictates of our faith concerning men and sons. After all, Cael is the descendent of Amazons of a First House, dating back to the Trojan Wars. He has been welcomed by his ancestors and his goddess, Dot Ishara," she completed."What is it with the Dot, Wakko and, ""Everyone buckle up," the pilot announced over the intercom. "We are on our final approach." Saku and the Squirts had her armor in some kind of order, we buckled up and let the plane coast on down to earth."Delilah and Cáel, since our 'vacation' was cut short, we haven't been able to bring your personal effects back from Africa yet," Rachel told us."Also, there will be four of Javiera's people meeting us in the hangar," she added. "We have been told to view them as non-hostiles.""Oh joy," Pamela muttered then, "There is nothing to worry about folks.""What? Me worry?" I goofy grinned her way.(Governments, horrendous enemies and ruthlessly evil friends)Four SUVs waited for us in the wide-open hangar. No sooner had the pilot given us the 'green light', than Rachel released the door/stairs mechanism and Charlotte began her decent. We had the camp FN P-90's, not the older Havenstone UMP 40's, so that was the weapon whose sights she was looking down as her eyes scanned the room. Five people. Four SUVs.Rachel went next with me right behind her. My SD's precautions turned our guests from a rather annoyed-casual to alert-angry. Standing with our two standard Mercedes GL550's was Wiesława of House Živa. A sole guardian indicated to me that an ass-kicking was in the offing elsewhere. The Golden Mare, Saint Marie was gathering the Havenstone Security Detail for some purpose, which meant she could only spare one more warrior for me.I was fine with that. Not only did I feel bad about denying her the four ladies I had, I knew we were going into this global conflict outnumbered and out-financed. The Seven Pillars had gotten at least one blow in by striking at the Amazon summer camp. I had every reason to believe other unexpected attacks had occurred all across the globe.In the closest black Tahoe SUV (didn't anyone use sedans anymore?) were two men in modestly tailored, off-the-rack suits. One with buzz-cut gray-white hair, was closer to fifty than forty, was as tall as me (a bit over six feet) and close to my weight and build. That guy was pissed off.His partner was smaller (5ft 10in.) and lighter. He was also cocky with that 'I know more than you schmucks' air about him. Beside the farther SUV, a Range Rover (black, of course, I swore in that moment that if I ever got to have my own fleet of House Ishara SUV's, I was going with baby blue, just to fuck with people's heads), were two other men, one cultured and the other a bad-ass.

Ellen Chang-Richardson's breathtaking poetry collection, Blood/Belies, was released in spring 2024 by Wolsak & Wynn and was a third bestseller in nonfiction in Calgary, Alberta. Chang-Richardson writes of race, of injury and of belonging in stunning poems that fade in and out of the page. History swirls through this collection like a summer storm, as they bring their father's, and their own, stories to light, writing against the background of the institutional racism of Canada, the Chinese Exclusion Act, the head tax and more. From Taiwan in the early 1990s to Oakville in the late 1990s, Toronto in the 2010s, Cambodia in the mid-1970s and Ottawa in the 2020s, Blood Belies takes the reader through time, asking them what it means to look the way we do? To carry scars? To persevere? To hope? About Ellen Chang-Richardson: Ellen Chang-Richardson is an award-winning poet of Taiwanese and Chinese Cambodian descent whose multi-genre writing has appeared in Augur, The Ex-Puritan, The Fiddlehead, Grain, third coast magazine, Vallum Contemporary, Watch Your Head and more. Born in Toronto, Ontario, they were raised in Oakville, Ontario and São Paulo, Brazil, and spent their most formative years growing up in Shanghai, China. A third culture kid at heart, Ellen's writing is informed by their love of contemporary art, their concern with the climate crisis, and their experience moving through the world as they are. The co-founder of Riverbed Reading Series, an editor for Room and long con magazine, and a member of the poetry collective VII, Ellen is currently based in Ottawa, Canada, on the unceded territory of the Algonquin Nation. You can usually find them baking sourdough bread from their starter, Bubbles, or biking the riverside trails on their single-speed. About Hollay Ghadery: Hollay Ghadery is an Iranian-Canadian multi-genre writer living in Ontario on Anishinaabe land. She has her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Guelph. Fuse, her memoir of mixed-race identity and mental health, was released by Guernica Editions in 2021 and won the 2023 Canadian Bookclub Award for Nonfiction/Memoir. Her collection of poetry, Rebellion Box was released by Radiant Press in 2023, and her collection of short fiction, Widow Fantasies, was released with Gordon Hill Press in fall 2024. Her debut novel, The Unraveling of Ou, is due out with Palimpsest Press in 2026, and her children's book, Being with the Birds, with Guernica Editions in 2027. Hollay is the host of the 105.5 FM Bookclub, as well as a co-host on HOWL on CIUT 89.5 FM. She is also a book publicist, the Regional Chair of the League of Canadian Poets and a co-chair of the League's BIPOC committee, as well as the Poet Laureate of Scugog Township. Learn more about Hollay at www.hollayghadery.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/poetry

Forgetness spins dizzy water memories, jumping in the stream.

Crashing Lightening and Rolling Thunder. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You will never appreciate having to follow a difficult order until you have to give one.” (Late, late Saturday Night) Had I been alone? There are few perks to a solitary lifestyle. One of the few is the freedom from others; and by that I mean you don't have to decide if you care about people you don't know. You are free. Your emotions are free, your decisions are free and your time is your own. Selfish in the best way. Libra took my keys after we arrived at my apartment building and raced ahead to make sure that Timothy and Odette, if either was awake, would be forewarned. Casper clung to me as she always did. Estere took the lead since I also had to do pack mule duty. Brooke carried the few things that were beyond me. The rain was turning from a drizzle to a downpour. Odette had a friend over; a female acquaintance. Timothy; Timothy was in the middle of a very successful date night. Now I had the joy of being an auditory spectator in my domicile's sexcapades. "Shouldn't she be taken to a clinic, or something?" the friend blurted out. I didn't know her enough to decide if she was nervous, flippant, or secretly cruel. Casper dug in tighter. I had to dump the luggage to deal with her heightened anxiety. Libra, Brooke and Odette picked up the slack while Estere soaked in the ambiance of my dwelling. The look she gave me was one of amusement and intrigue. This was hardly the lair of the one and only Amazon Prince. It was sublime and comfortable. It had a nomadic quality she found familiar. Being in a fortress has its comforts. Being in someone else's fortress is far less comfortable. Estere was quietly accounting for every knife, mallet, or other potentially fatal piece of housewares. Brooke, Libra and Odette were already ordering and organizing my life ;  what did they need to get and how would they get it? "So; you are Odette's; friend," the unknown woman stated. Snapping at her was unduly unfair to Odette, who put up with mountains of my insane lifestyle. "Yeah, that's me. Cáel Nyilas; self-made troublemaker," I confessed. "You?" "Delilah," she answered. "What happened to her?" Casper flinched. "Nothing that being reminded about what a wonderful friend she is won't help heal," I cautiously responded. "She is hanging out with me and some friends for the weekend." "Cut it out, Delilah," Odette sighed. "Who are you really, anyway?" Delilah was smooth, I had to give her that. "Odette, what do you mean?" Delilah stood up. "Delilah, or whoever you are, I'm not such a wonderful person that people I've known two days come home with me," Odette lectured. "Now, I kept you here until you could meet Cáel, so why don't you return my courtesy and tell us what's going on?" Odette was keeping Libra and Brooke in my room thus out of play. Timothy climaxed. Good for him. Out in the living room, Delilah made a stutter step. She was frozen by Estere's silenced weapon pointed at her. "You were spotted by a rank amateur," the Hashashin noted. "Who are you with?" "You people are nuts," Delilah flushed with panic. Nice touch, but that panic didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes. "Damn Delilah," Odette shook her head. "You need to watch more television. BBC America has this nice drama called Orphan Black where the exact same thing happened. I knew you were lying to me in twenty minutes. I was nice enough to not bring the Death Squad across the street over to deal with you. They wouldn't have cared whether I was being paranoid or whatever. They would have dragged you out and killed you on general principle. You owe me." "I don't know what's wrong;” Delilah got out. There was a rapid knocking at the door. Shielding Casper behind me, I backed up in that direction. "Last chance," Odette looked at Delilah sternly. "That's the Death Squad." Sure enough, I checked and it was two Amazons in full gear. I opened up and the two edged in around me. "Ishara; status please," the leader asked. "Estere Abed is a diplomat for her Protocol faction, there should be records of Brooke and Libra on file and Odette belongs here. Casper is behind me; special case. That woman," I motioned to Delilah, "is of unknown origin." "Miss, lay down on the floor, on your stomach; arms out to your sides," the leader brought her UP-40 up, aimed at Delilah. "This is insane," Delilah sounded really frantic. Not in the eyes though. "Lie down, or three rounds in the chest," the Amazon team leader related calmly. "Last chance." Delilah decided that she wasn't cut from a fanatic's cloth. She went down like a pro. The two Amazons closed in. I spotted the third of the four woman team at my door, keeping watch. The two inside efficiently bound her hands behind her back and patted her down for weapons; none. "She is in violation of the truce," the leader pointed out. "Should I dispatch her now?" "Wait!" Delilah squawked. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on him and protect him, not hurt him. Fuck, don't kill me for this." "Who are you working for?" Estere came closer. Delilah hesitated so both Estere and the number two Amazon drew their knives. "Fine! Fine. All I have is a name and I'm only supposed to tell him," she pleaded. There was a moment of uncertainty. "She'll tell us," Estere knelt beside Delilah. Now Delilah's panic was real. "Wait," I stated. I motioned Brooke and Libra to move around the crowded room and comfort Casper. "Well," I sighed as I went on my hands and knees beside Delilah's head. The Amazon leader had her hand on the woman's head, pressed tightly to the ground. "Sibeal," Delilah whispered. Mom. "Do you have any way of contacting this person?" I asked. "No. It is not how I work," she said and finally I caught it. The accent. I looked to the leader. "Look at her hands and tell me what you see," I asked the Amazon. I went back to resting on my knees. "Hard; callused from repetitive weapons practice. Short nails. She's very fit," the Team Lead kept up the examination. "I apologize Ishara. She's a soldier." "Let her go," I commanded. The Amazon only paused for a moment before cutting her bonds. Delilah moved cautiously as she moved to a cross-legged position. "You don't have to answer me, but I'd appreciate some honesty. You're English. Would that make you MI-5, or MI-6?" It wasn't as huge a leap as it looked. Who could Mom trust? In this case, a government operative would actually be safer for her and she had to have decades of Illuminati information inside her head. Delilah had one reason to be honest; her mission. "MI-5 is counter-intelligence," Delilah grinned as her British accent came out to play. "M I 6. S I S is foreign intelligence. I'll let you figure it out." "Good enough," I stood then helped her stand as well. "You can stay; starting Monday. I need a break, okay?" Delilah nodded. "Deal. Now do me the courtesy of telling me why I'm here?" she asked. "Love. Deep, abiding love," I looked right into her soul. Crisis averted. Delilah 'agreed' to go with my guardians to 'work things out'. Delilah was curious as to why they called Cáel Nyilas; Ishara. She also congratulated Odette on figuring something was up. Odette told her not to feel bad about it; reference all the psycho bitches that showed up in my life. Brooke headed out to gather some more belongings for herself and Libra because; my vote not even elicited; they were going to hang close to Casper and I for a few more days. Libra and Estere headed out to that authentic Italian pizza joint I'd taken Libra to earlier since my food stockpile was abysmal and the neighborhood was far from safe this late at night. Odette took Casper to my bedroom so that Casper could talk with her parents in Delaware. Timothy and his date emerged from his room. It was Sovann Mean, who I had met before and gotten along with. It took me all of two seconds to figure out what had happened. Sovann had asked Timothy out because Timothy never thought Sovann was interested in him. Sovann was a second generation Cambodian-American and had this stoic demeanor he raised up whenever he was nervous, ensuring Timothy's confusion. "Hey Cáel," Sovann smiled at me. "Still being good?" That was code for me being 'straight'. It still weirded me out a bit; Sovann was a serious weightlifter, like Timothy and I, but a head shorter, so he looked stockier than he really was. When he smiled, his whole face lit up too. It was the Khmer 'twang' that always sounded out of place to me. "We will not discuss the number of women who were here mere moments ago," I joked wearily. "Timothy, I apologize for coming back early; shithead-intervention shut things down in the Hamptons." "No problem, Bro," Timothy came and gave me a man-hug. "With your newfound wealth, we may need to convert the sofa to a sleeper-sofa," Timothy semi-joked. "Oh yeah, and that girl down the hall; when I told her your father died, she baked you some cookies. They're in a tin by the toaster. They really are pretty good, too; walnut and caramel chip." That sounded tasty. I guessed that meant I finally had to meet the women. Sovann came up and fist-bumped me as Timothy went for the refrigerator. The doorbell rang. I wondered who had forgotten what as I swung the door open. Lighting exploded outdoors, our lights flickered and thunder shook the apartment. It was Uncle Carrig. As the old song said 'he looked like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces gone'. His eyes wore a harried, feral look. His bellow, as he charged, rolled over me like the amplified heartbeat of a hellish primate. I had no time before he was on me. Down we went. I tried to push him off of me. His suit was soaked with rain and blood, some of it had to be his own. In his right hand he held a dull aluminum cylinder with a metallic suction cup on the bottom. Sovann kicked Uncle Lumpy in the side of the head. Inflicted on a normal man, that would have driven him off me. Lumpy released his hold on my shoulder and backhanded Sovann. The Cambodian went flying in the direction of the sofa despite getting a leg block up. I had a flash of Timothy going for his home deterrent system, aka the crowbar. Odette began yelling. The cylinder was coming down. Carrig's left grabbed my chin, fixing my head in place. I opted to use both my arms to stop his right, and the device, from coming down. I bought a little time. Timothy's blow came down on Lumpy's left shoulder, weakening the hold, but not enough. The device slammed into my forehead. I felt a burning pain as a portion of the flesh beneath the cup was flash-fried away. More pain, then a little pressure and finally nothing. In those seconds before my mind spun out of control, I had the oddest sensation there was something inside my brain. Searing agony; existence lost all meaning and I was gone. (One week later) They say pain in the brain is illusionary. Of all your nerve cells, only a tiny fraction are devoted to pain. The rest do the important work of keeping your body functioning. The brain is on top of it all and it has better things to do that register pain; or so I was told. To be somewhat fair, what I felt wasn't exactly pain. It was the sensation that something was crawling around inside my psyche, doing something. Sharp, tingling jolts shocked my body parts at regular intervals. Painful in their own way, yet not so much I couldn't concentrate. I opened my eyes. The lights in my room had been dimmed, but not enough that I couldn't see the six ladies standing about; doing nothing. I recognized my present lodgings as Havenstone Post-classical Modernism (total lie; I'm not an interior designer). The six ladies turned, looked at me, then closed in slowly. A staring contest was in the offing when two people entered the room from the door at the foot of the bed. It then occurred to me that little sonic indicators on the machinery surrounding me were chirping loudly. One woman was a physician's assistant I knew from an earlier bout at Havenstone Medical. She had performed CPR on me. The other woman; she was the senior-most recruit from my father's graveside service. She looked positively grim. My dry throat requested some water then I attempted to rise. A problem instantly revealed itself. I was strapped down on my bed. The ankles, wrists and a neck/head brace kept my movements to a minimum. There was a side benefit to this imprisonment. That body-wide jolts? My body was wired up to a system that had needles piercing my muscle clusters. Amazons prided themselves on being physically fit and their tolerance for pain. My muscles hadn't atrophied during my; coma and the price was this constant, low-level pain. I still wasn't sure that was the reason I was bound. The PA maneuvered a plastic bottle with a spout to my lips and gave me a brief squirt. A few seconds later I got another and then a third. "Okay," I rasped. "What's going on?" "You have been in an unresponsive state for 7 days, Ishara," the 'senior' told me. "Why are you here?" I coughed. "I mean, why aren't you on the job?" She blinked. "Your life was imperiled so we decided that five of us would be around to monitor you and keep you safe," she answered. "What's with everyone else?" I huffed. The two looked at me. The quiet six were of no help. "Fine, what are you ladies doing here?" I asked the women originally in the room. No answer. "Ishara?" the PA worried. That was when it dawned on me that the two and the six weren't interacting on any level. "How many people are in the room?" I asked my housemate. She paused. "There are three of us, Ishara. You, me and the attendant," she answered. "How many people do you see?" "Well shit," I muttered. Then the first of the six spoke to me. Actually, she mouthed to me. It took me a moment to realize she was giving me her name. The next one started. "Device," I snapped to the 'senior'. As she hesitantly reached for hers, I began rattling off the names. When the sixth one gave me her name, the group dissipated into the ether. "Who are these women?" 'senior' requested. "Find out," I sighed then, "It is important." She nodded. Now that the specters were gone, the mortals began to come in. Right off the bat, I was confirmed in my status as "prisoner". They wouldn't free me when I requested it and they made no attempt to conceal their hostility to my fellow Isharan. The agenda was decided without me; they were going to check me out mentally, then I was off to see Hayden. Why was I imprisoned? My brain was a maelstrom of activity across a broad spectrum of regions and lobes. What had happened? They didn't know. The suction cup had stabilized the tube which was really a firing mechanism. When the device was able to detect and aim for a specific part of my brain, the longitudinal fissure, it shot a rod three-quarters into my cranium. A laser had burned through the skin and skull with surgeon-like precision so a barb of unknown construction could go deep into my brain. Then it 'detonated'. That was one of the problems the medicos of Havenstone were facing. The device had been so badly damaged when it unleashed its energy that they could no longer divine its function. What they did understand was that while my neural network was going super-nova, it wasn't killing me. They leapt on the idea of mind control. That theory sounded pretty lame to me, but I was the one tied down, with one ally in a room full of people bred to mistrust all males. The next approach; was I sane? The PA offered that I was seeing phantasms. 'Wait'. "Go," I directed the senior. "Take care of the business I have given you then tell Buffy and Helena what you've found out. You are wasting your time staying here." She nodded and left. It was more "common sense" rather than any sense of my leadership that made her leave. But that done; I concentrated on the entirety of the message so that it settled upon my soul. I relaxed, shut my eyes and let the world float by. It took them a minute to notice my noncompliance; any positive contribution on my part had slipped so far down in their expectations. "Ishara?" one of the SD chicks inquired. I opened one eye, then shut it. There was nothing to be done. "What is he doing?" that Amazon asked a physician. She, in turn asked me. I took a deep, cleansing breath and continued to ignore them. "There is nothing wrong with him," the physician noted. "He is being childish." That went beyond disrespectful. As a quirk of Amazon society, they had left me my knife strapped to my arm. To take it would have been an insult my tiny house could not have borne; essentially declaring me incompetent. I was heading that way, but not yet. That didn't stop them from deriding me until a lull finally developed. For a moment, I thought I was alone. I was intrigued by the words suddenly aimed my way. "Mr. Nyilas?" an unknown female inquired. I opened an eye. Woman; bad suit; and a badge. What the fuck? I was in Havenstone. "Special Agent Virginia Maddox with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'd like to ask you a few questions," she began. "Okay," I cleared my throat, "as long as we are clear I am one misstep away from invoking my Miranda Rights." She worked that one over for a second. "Do you know why your uncle attacked you?" "Honestly, I'm curious as to why I'm still alive," I tried to shrug. "Carrig and I never got along, if you consider when I first met him we fought and the second time he stabbed me in the forehead," I explained. "How long did you and your uncle fight; the second time?" she asked. "Um; six second," I guessed. "How is Lumpy doing, anyway?" "Lumpy?" "Uncle Carrig." "He's dead." "Seriously; fuck. What killed him?" "We are working that out. He was beaten, stabbed; by three different blades, shot 67 times by five different firearms, only two which we have recovered," Virginia stated. "We also think he was hit by two cars, one dump truck and a subway." "Well; yeah; Uncle Carrig was looking a bit rough when I answered the door," I confessed. Lumpy had to have been on a freaking quest to go through all that to get to me. Subway? He was hit by a subway and walked away. Most people barely leave a recognizable corpse. "How are Odette, Timothy, Casper and Sovann?" I recalled. She looked at her phone. "They are mostly fine. Casper Winslow was taken to the hospital in shock and was released to her parents," she said. "The other three were taken to the Emergency Room, treated for minor injuries and released," Virginia informed me. "The other four women were a more delicate manner." "Four women? Could you be more specific?" "Your bodyguards." "Could you be more specific?" "For a person with supposedly limited financial means, a lower income lifestyle and a humble background, you appear to have a small army hovering around you, high society friends, and lawyers who are on a first name basis with Supreme Court Justices," Virginia noted. "Lady, half-way through Day Two on this job, I almost gave it all up and biked my ass down to Terra del Fuego to live the sane life of a paranoid recluse," I sighed. "Why didn't you?" "Cause I'm an idiot. I was hoping a crackerjack investigator like you would have figured this out by now," I grinned. "How do you know I'm any good at my job?" she sent a sultry lip twist my way. Yes; pinned to a bed I could still attract the ladies. Having hundreds of little needles in me made the prospects for a quick sexual romp unlikely. "Javiera chose you for this assignment," I told her. "You have to be a woman because this is Havenstone and you have to be clever because this is a lunatic asylum." "Touché," she acknowledged my above average mental status. Next came a list of names. It took me a few seconds to focus on them. "Oh, what happened to them?" I inquired. "What makes you think anything happened to these people?" she parried. "Oh, I'm betting Javiera gave you a list of names and there is only person left alive out of that group," I felt introspective. "I wonder where Anima is hiding." "What happened to those people?" she persisted. "I don't know. I've been napping for the past week, but I'm betting they all met nasty ends," I told her. "Why were these people murdered?" "Were they murdered, or are they merely deceased? See, if I give you my opinion, you will have to pursue that line of inquiry which will only hurt one person who has already been hurt enough and save somebody who shouldn't be saved," I explained. "Why do you get to determine who gets saved?" Virginia pressed. "As opposed to who? You and Javiera? That's laughable. Why don't you go down the net worth of the families of those unfortunate corpses, then tell me how balanced your justice system would be? Please understand, I don't hold you and your profession in contempt," I met her hardening gaze. "To prove to me that I'm wrong, all you have to do is honestly tell me that high-priced lawyers, legions of specialists that confuse juries and enormous bank accounts to keep the appeals going indefinitely while the guilty roam about on bail equates to the legal process working fairly and impartially," I reposted. "That's not the same thing as;” she got out before the door opened and several people traipsed in, including three SD personnel. Last came Troika and she was coldly furious. "I was promised more time with Mr. Nyilas," Virginia protested. She was ignored. "Ishara, you are coming with us," Troika snapped. To be fair, the medical attendant wasn't overly torturous as she pulled out the muscle stimulatory aids and applied the bandages. It still sucked. That was ameliorated somewhat by the read I was getting of Troika. I waited for the last restraint to be removed before speaking. "I refuse to go with you," I stated firmly even as I sat up. See, I needed something to happen that was beyond my ability to obtain. "Take him," Troika directed two of the SD babes. My captors had gone out of their way to make sure these Amazons weren't ladies I knew. "Stop," I declared with authorities. "You cannot touch me against my will as that violates Hayden's ban on me entering blood feuds and wrangling me anywhere against my will constitutes a blood feud in Ishara's eyes." "It is Hayden's order," Troika snapped. "Has she lifted the ban? If not, these ladies will be breaking Hayden's decree." Troika harrumphed then gave Hayden a call. For the purpose of this meeting, the ban was lifted. That was what I needed so off I went. I waited until we got in the elevator and were heading up before launching my strike. Pamela would have been so proud. If Troika had given me an ounce of dignity, I couldn't have pulled it off. As it was, the first stab took her just under the left eye, the second punched through her cheek and spitted her tongue. The third nearly severed her upper lip and then the SD were on me. "Blood Feud!" I screamed. "You stole from me!" Troika was about to come back at me, knife in hand. One of the SD got in the way. What I had done was illegal; blood feuds needed to be approved; except for one tidbit of law Pamela taught me and it was about to come into play. "You cannot wound him while he is in our custody, Troika of Šauška," the Amazon protested. Troika gargled something through the ruin of the left side of her face. "I will peel off a meter of your flesh for this insult," she managed to oozingly communicate before we reached the top floor. For my part; "Unhand me." They didn't. "Unhand me, or am I no longer Head of House Ishara." "Do not attack her," the SD leader stated. "Would you care to explain to me why you are giving me that order?" I mused. "Please, Ishara," the woman ground out. "Do not attack Troika of House Šauška." "Very well. I pledge that from this point until the end of this meeting, I will only act against Troika in my own defense," I promised. "Now give me your sidearm." "You may not bear a weapon in Hayden's presence," the SD leader reminded me. "I asked for your weapon, not your legal advice," I insisted. Another shot of bigotry. "I will not. You are not acting rationally," she stated. Troika snorted. That was okay, because I saw an excellent substitute close by. My deviation from the group was so casual, they barely noticed. I wasn't making a fast break to nowhere. I walked up to the wall and, Vranus be praised, yanked one of a pair of matching battle axes off the wall. Support studs went flying. Like all weapons in Havenstone, this one was real. The SD closed ranks, boxing me in. "You may not bear a weapon in Hayden's presence," the SD leader was at the end of her patience with me. "You are incorrect," I glowered. "There are two occasions I may bear a weapon in proximity to the High Priestess. One is in defense of her person. I am not here to defend her." Harder than any kick to the head; they paled then the anger set in. "How dare you?" the SD leader seethed. "The proof of the necessity of my action stands before me right now; an Amazon defying a House, a First Ancestor and a Goddess on her own initiative and in defiance of everything her ancestors fought, bled and died for," I glared. "Give me the axe," the leader insisted. "No. You will have to fight me for it," I made my stand. She was about to do just that when one of the others spoke. Tears were slowly eking a way down that one's cheeks. "Step away from Ishara, or I will kill you," she told her leader. "You are wrong and Ishara is right though it sickens me to admit it." To add to the macabre, one SD trooper aimed at my 'savior' and the fourth aimed at the third. Civil war. "You know what he plans to do," the leader stated. "It is not our place," the second Amazon insisted. "I cannot face my ancestors letting this abomination pass." "He is the abomination," the leader persisted. "No. The abomination is any full-blooded not of the Council deciding what the Council will and will not do. We now know there were once male Amazons. By the will of our ancestors it was so. Never before have we, the elite of the Host, acted as if we knew better than they," the second Amazon said with righteous conviction. "Go," the leader mumbled softly. The woman on the verge of killing her was most likely a close and trusted friend. Grappling with that sudden rift between sisters was occupying her mind at that moment, not my escape. I moved around her, keeping out of the line of fire as best I could and went with Troika to Hayden's portal. I didn't thank the woman. That would have been insulting because what she did, she did for her people and the hundred thousand that had come before her. Finally we rolled out the Old Kingdom Hittite/Amazon. "See what you have done," Troika hissed. I didn't bother to reply. I was sure, dressed in light green scrubs, I cut a valiant and imposing figure. "Cáel Ishara, what took you so;” and then Hayden saw it. For a second, Saint Marie almost cut me off. Katrina stood up. She wanted to stop me. In her mind, Hayden was one of our allies, but, as I had told her, she (Katrina) didn't get it either. Madi, Beyoncé, Fatima and Krasimira were also present and now highly disturbed. "Take yourself to the cliffs," I announced clearly as I dropped the axe on Hayden's desk. She had stood at my final approach and bore hate my way. "The Goddess Ishara rejects you and has taken herself from the Temple. House Ishara has lost faith in you. Your insults are lengthy and I do not feel like wasting any more time with you." "How dare you?" Hayden spat. "All the times I have shielded you and this is how you repay me? You were a mistake from the beginning." "A mistake we can rectify right now," Fatima snarled. She rose up and drew her knife. "Excuse me, but didn't we gather here for a different purpose?" Krasimira mused softly. "Kill him and end the curse," Madi growled. "Oh; in that case can you kill me first?" Krasimira sighed. "I see no need to postpone the continuation of my chat with my mother." At Krasimira's age, her mother was most likely dead. "Krasimira, you cannot defend him!" Fatima wailed. "Defend him? I am not standing in your way, Fatima. I do know that the statue of Ishara fractured and fell into two pieces in the Temple," she related; certainly retelling information they already had. "House by house, we see nothing but the back of those who fought before us. Five of my augurs had shorn their hair and thrown themselves into the fire. I can do nothing except report what I have witnessed. I cannot appeal to Ishara to lift her curse. I hope one of you can because if you can't and you kill her CLEARLY designated heir we shall all go down to ignoble ends," the Keeper of Records remained serenely poised as she delivered her doom-laden news. "By the way, Troika, what happened to your face?" "He stabbed me," Troika burbled. "Let me kill the bastard." I half-turned. Saint Marie interposed herself between the two of us. "Cáel, lift the curse," Saint Marie demanded. "Lift your damn curse," Fatima and Madi chimed in. "Cáel, lift the curse and then we can discuss things," Hayden tried and failed to sound humble. "If every woman in this rooms fatally slits their own throats in the next fifteen seconds, I'll plead to Ishara to lift the curse," I said. There wasn't a headlong rush to commit suicide. The only one so inclined was Krasimira. I motioned her to stop. "Well, I think we are done here. I have to go and try and cobble my life back together. You ladies have fun pulling off your 'Thelma and Louise' final act while I figure out some way for House Ishara to survive the upcoming war," I shrugged. Of course they didn't let me leave. Fatima on one side, the Golden Mare in the middle and Troika on the other. She had to be in a shitload of pain. "Lift the curse. If we are going to war, we need to be whole," Saint Marie urged me. "No." "Why should I stop these two from killing you right now?" she glared. "Because he is an Amazon," Krasimira muttered. "You should need no better reason. Ah; this is why we must die; thank you Cáel Ishara," she concluded. "A terrible sadness has gripped our people for as long as I have been Keeper. I found it lurking in the shadowy corners of my office when I was elevated. I now imagine it haunted my predecessors for some time as well. At least I will pass on knowing the name of our assassin." "The assassin is right here," Fatima spewed her hate at me. "You are correct," Krasimira chuckled. "The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazon. I need a moment, please." She stood and walked to the doors. What she wanted didn't take long at all. "Gun," we heard her request. The magazine fell to the ground. The sole bullet did not follow. Krasimira walked tenderly into the office as if every step tore like fishhooks at her flesh. "Take yourself to the cliffs, Hayden," Krasimira intoned as the one-shot pistol fell on Hayden's desk. "I no longer know you." Krasimira took in the whole room. "We show anger when we should show humility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We have heaped insult upon insult on our ancestors yet are now aghast that they turn away from us," she shook her head. Her gaze settled on Saint Marie. "I am not one warrior alone, but one of a thousand warriors who have fought before me'; isn't that part of the oath of every member of the Security Detail swears?" Katrina fell to her knees. "Please Cáel. Please save us," she begged me. Something was very wrong with that. "How dare you?" Fatima howled at Katrina. Instead of being ashamed, Katrina's supplicant's face turned first into a grim grin, then one of gallows laughter. "And that is why we are all going to die," Katrina declared as she stood once more. "We are too proud to ask a man for help. We know what Ishara's curse is doing to us. You clearly don't care. You would rather die than admit that our damn ANCESTORS have placed a male here and now. Open your eyes!" she nearly screamed. "They sent a MAN for a reason; to open our eyes before we kill ourselves." You scream 'what gives him the right?' Ishara gives him the right. Nothing else matters. What I am asking you is 'what gives you the right to reject Ishara?' because that is what we have done. How could she make her will any more plainly obvious to us? Cáel has never stopped trying to save us and you two want to gut him like a lamb, or (to Saint Marie) break his body. Hayden, I will not place my rejection upon your desk. You have been as much a mother to me as my actual birth-mother. I love you. Since we first met, I have only wanted to make you proud of me and serve your will. What has gone wrong? How have we come to this? You were the one who told me we had to find a way to save our race; and now, when it stares us in the face; Why can't we accept it? How have I failed you, Hayden? What did I do wrong to not prepare you for this moment? It was my duty to keep you informed in all things and I can find nothing to excuse my failure," Katrina had gone from disappointed to heart-broken. Katrina prized herself on being able to stay ahead of any crisis. Here, at her greatest challenge, she hadn't been able to help her friend and mentor survive this calamity. I imagine that was the final blow for Hayden. Katrina had risen up through the Havenstone system as Hayden's protégé and had given Hayden her all. "Until this moment, I have never considered myself a coward," Hayden murmured. "You are blameless Katrina. In the final analysis, I sacrificed my courage for my life. And now I have neither. I can regain my courage here at the end and be true to the duties I was given," Hayden's resolve strengthened with each word. She took out a piece of paper and created a list. "Saint Marie, on this list are traitors to the Host. Gather these Amazons and prepare them to challenge my accusation." Saint Marie stepped forward, took the paper and quickly read it. "Hayden, this includes a third of the Council!" she gasped. "I am well aware of who I have accused. Please see to my final command, old friend," Hayden sighed. I could see a terrible weight lifted from her; the cliffs. "Final;” Saint Marie and Katrina groaned. "Yes. I will dine tonight with my family, then take myself to the cliffs with the dawn. I feel that will be a good end for me," Hayden mused. "Will Ishara forgive me, Cáel?" "No Hayden. It is not her way, but I will. There will be a place in Ishara's halls for you. I pledge you that," I suddenly felt a sorrowful pit in my stomach. Into that romantically tragic scene, Krasimira snorted with amusement. Eyes turned to her. Hayden shook her head, held up a hand to forestall the Keeper until she rounded the desk and left her office for the last time. "Who is on the list?" Fatima stormed up to the Golden Mare and looked over the list. "I am on this. So are you Troika," Fatima growled. "This is insane. We'll destroy Hayden over this; this; piece of filth." "I don't care if I'm on it, or not," Madi seethed. "I'm with you." "There is a small manner of little known law you may wish to be aware of," Krasimira chuckled. "The ruling of an honorably deceased High Priestess may not be challenged." "You two are under arrest," Saint Marie whipped out her pistol. Being with the SD, she was allowed to be fully armed in the High Priestess's presence. "What do you mean?" Fatima looked to Krasimira. "Cáel has killed you all and he didn't even mean to," Krasimira gave a dry chuckle. "By his act of kindness to Hayden, which I now think Hayden was counting on, our former High Priestess goes to an honorable death; taken into the Halls of Ishara in death. Unable to challenge Hayden's decree, you are all going to be executed and your names stricken from the rolls. You will wander aimlessly for all eternity while Hayden will live in the company of her sisters thanks to a man and his love for someone who was clearly his enemy," Krasimira kept snorting at the dark comedy. "Your sole avenue of spiritual survival lies with a man you tried to kill mere moments ago." "This is insane," Troika shouted and came at me. The room exploded with the sonic resonance of a pistol firing. I may have imagined it, but it appeared the bullet took Troika at the juncture of the right eyebrow, nose ridge and right eye. Whatever the entry point, the 45 ACP slug painted the wall behind her with her grey matter. Saint Marie turned quickly on Fatima. "Troika wasn't on the Council, so I could kill her for attempting to murder someone who was. I can't kill you immediately, but please believe I will put a bullet where it hurts if you don't do exactly what I say," the Golden Mare menaced. The debate was truncated by the four Security Detail ladies storming the room. Orders were dispensed and the wheels of Amazon society burst into motion. A side effect of my stunt was I had put Saint Marie in charge until the full Council could meet to create some sort of Regency Council to pilot the ship. There was zip gratitude aimed my way on her part and I didn't blame her one bit. I was headed out before things got too organized. I wanted some 'me' time. "Cáel Ishara, we have not resolved the matter that brought us to this disaster," Saint Marie growled. I was at the door. I looked over my shoulder at the Golden Mare, turned back toward freedom and saw Pamela. "Shoot me," I told Pamela. I was grappling with the horror of what I had just said when I returned to the darkness. MOTHER-FUCKER! I hate women! (Mutter; mutter; mutter) I became aware of my hazy, fugue-like dream state. Sadly, it was familiar and undoubtedly going to become even more familiar while I lived. "Upset with me, Cáel?" she asked. "You had me tell my friend to shoot me; yeah, Ishara, I'm a little cranky right now." "The question was rhetorical. I can read your mind," the Goddess snorted. "What happened to me?" "She bounced a bullet off your skull. You'll be okay. I am the Goddess of Medicine after all," she reminded me. "From an era when trepanning was popular. Color me unimpressed. Oh; and I apologize." "You will get me the fortune cookie next time," she lilted. Something crucial occurred to me. "Hey! I haven't had sex in a week. That hasn't happened to me in four years." "I don't think you are ready for that stage of our relationship yet," she tickled my nose. "Wait; did you just put me in the Friend Zone?" More laughter. "Seriously," I sighed. "Hayden?" "I forgive you," she soothed me. "Forgive me? I killed her. That is not okay. Wasn't; " "No, my Cáel. We are a blood-thirsty society and the ultimate mistakes are answered with the ultimate punishments. I cannot fully express my pride in you for what you did, even in opposition to my will." There was a pause in our relationship and conversation. I thought she sensed my turmoil and aided me in finding some level of peace. With her kind of entity, I would never be sure. "What did Carrig do to me?" I asked. "I don't know." That was not what I expect. Evasion; yes. The ugly truth; no. "I find the concept of an omniscient, omnipotent deity to be self-defeating," she mused. "Sort of negates the whole Free Will thing," I bantered. "Besides, what is the point of beseeching a being that already knows what's going to happen to you and would have saved you if that is what they wanted?" "Yeah," I groaned sarcastically, "I much prefer the divine ones who randomly fuck with your life because they can, rarely provide useful information and won't even put out on the second date." "I know this will cause you pain yet I will say it anyway; I love you." Yeah; I was suddenly wishing Pamela had missed and hit me between the eyes. "Very well, what can I do for you that would make you happier?" Inside of second. "Clever boy. Are you sure?" "Yes." "Done. I can no longer read your mind." A few seconds passed. "This is annoying. Is this what it is like dealing with me; this 'not knowing'?" "Yes and you proved it by the way," I murmured. Several more seconds. "This is really annoying me. Pick something else." Pause. "What does it prove?" "You love me," I grinned. "Love without freedom is illusionary. Freedom of thought is the basis of hope and hope drives all endeavors." A long pause. I was a bit curious about what was happening to my body. "Please." "No." "I could give you a divine gift; speak in tongues; regeneration; long life?" "Nope. Not happening." "I still love you." "Now I can say I love you and know I mean it." "That's unfair; clever and insightful, but unfair," she teased me. "What about the curse?" "Re-forge my statue at the Temple and the curse will be lifted. Be your regular creative self when you do so." Pause; divine sigh. "I need to send you back now. Oh, and make love to the first woman you see. It is important." "What? Why is it im;” and I felt the weight of my body and the throbbing of my temple. (Augurs don'ts and don't give a fuck abouts) I didn't want to open my eyes; really, truly, deeply. I had been dared by both guys and girls to pick up a certain female at a variety of events, even when they came with company. I'd done it because I'm that kind of low-life. Being pre-ordained to sleep with some chick felt wrong to me. It was cheating. I sincerely wished she hadn't been touching my face. Yes, someone was running their slender, feminine fingers over my forehead, eyebrows, eyelids, nose; yadda. "Ishara, I must speak with you," the strange woman implored. My eye movement had given my wakefulness away. I pried open my lids and looked up into the face of a living ghost. Her skin was albino pale with obvious veins and blue capillaries beneath the surface. Her ocular orbs were a deep milky white, with a tinge of light blue. I could barely make out the pupils. Her hair was whiter than Pamela's. From the structure and musculature of her hands and face; it was as if a perfectly healthy human woman's body was in a constant frantic battle against death. My senses expanded to embrace more of my resting place. I was in Katrina's office on the sofa. Katrina was not present. Buffy, the 'senior', Pamela, Rachel, Krasimira, the super-pale chick and two House Guard I didn't recognize were nearby. Despite my head throbbing to the beat of fiendish jackhammers, I managed to sit up. This upset the lady touching me as my movement broke our contact. "Ishara?" she pleaded. "That's it. From now on its Yakko Ishara, Wakko Ishara and Dot Ishara. Let's end all of this confusion over this 'which Ishara are we really wanting to talk to?' bullshit. So, what do you want?" I groaned. "I'm claiming the 'Yakko' spot, by the way." "Ishara?" she pleaded again. Was she protesting me taking the oldest Warner brothers' spot? Yeah, I was the youngest one of the pseudo-divine trio, but I absolutely owned the role of smart-alec. "She is an Augur," Krasimira explained. "The poisons she takes to put her in a receptive state to the ancestors, goddesses and the spiritual currents of the universe leave her blind and deaf to the mortal world. She communicates normally, but needs to be touching your lips to know what you are saying. Her name is Tadêfi and she has a message for you," she finished. "Give me a sec," I put my thoughts together despite my pain. Buffy shoved a glass of water and three pills my way. I downed them gratefully. Buffy was clearly distressed. I was getting the crap kicked out of me a lot and, in theory, it was her job to stop such things from happening. "Buffy, we couldn't have foreseen Carrig coming after me the way he did. He slipped through the seams of very good security," I tried to comfort her. "Pamela shot me on the Goddess/Dot Ishara's orders. She can only communicate with me when I'm in a near-death state," I said. "I have a new mission for you." I needed to keep her mind busy with things other than me. Buffy was action-oriented and I was giving her a doozy of a task. "Obtain at least five of the bullet casings from the battle that took my Father's life. Give them to Krasimira. They are to be melted down with the original statue and recast into a new symbol of the Goddess. We will be a melding of the old and the new," I ordered. Yes, I was sacrificing a priceless ancient artifact for a current political agenda. I'm reprehensible. Kimberly would be ashamed. "Now, who were the women whose names I gave you?" "They are all deceased 'Runners', Ishara," the senior told me. Oh; that made sense. "Tomorrow we induct them into House Ishara," I stated. "Ishara, they are dead," senior repeated. "Do you believe the souls of Amazons go to the houses of their ancestors after dying?" I posed. That took a few seconds to soak in. My almost albino was getting truly distressed so I took her hand and put it on my lips as I asked the latest question. "Oh;” the senior and Buffy both muttered. "All those 'Runners'; their spirits wander aimlessly for eternity bereft of companionship and a place to call home," I told them. "That is a crime," I continued. "Even as Ishara moves forward, we must be honest about our past. Those women earned a place in the Host. They were unduly denied their promised afterlife and we will start rectifying that tomorrow." Their looks broadcast their interpretation of my declaration: I was a wonderful child who had won first place for our team at the State Fair. Now that she was back in the communication loop, the augur calmed down. "You have a message for me?" I 'asked' her. Halfway through, I stopped enunciating. "Yes, Ishara. My dead sister stepped back through the flames and told me you;” she began. "No; stop," I told her. "Everyone leave." They honored my wishes and departed except; "What are you still doing here?" I asked the House Guard who remained. Now that I had a chance to study her, I realized she bore the same cuneiform designation as Krasimira. "I am her guardian. I am always at her side," the woman explained rather heatedly. She was certainly not a fan of the man in mankind. "By all means; have it your way. Augur, your message is unimportant. Write it down and have it sent out as a memo for everyone in Havenstone to read. Someone may tell me about it. I'm horrible with my e-mail, so I probably won't read it myself," I growled. This shit stopped now. I stood and made to leave. The augur swatted out and grabbed my arm when she hit it. "Ishara, you must;” and I lightly slapped her face. The guardian drew down on me. "How dare you?" the guardian seethed. "I am thinking the same thing; 'how dare you?'" I rumbled. "How dare you decide what messages she does, or does not, deliver?" "Tadêfi has something important to tell you," the guardian growled. "Augurs died to bring you this message." "Clearly the message isn't important enough for you to leave the room," I countered. "I took bullet to the head so I could talk to the Goddess Dot Ishara." I was going to enjoy calling my matron pain-in-the-cranium that. She was probably less amused. "I'm about out of patience with you smug, delusionary superior sluts demanding things from me as if you weren't my underlings," I glared. "Get with the program, or get out." Though I had told her to get out, I was the one leaving. I needed clothes, a shave and a chance to get my bearings. I didn't need those two. Tadêfi tried to speak again. I put my hand to her lips to stop her again then raised her hands to my lips. "I do not want to hear what you have to say," I related. "If you try to tell me what you have been told, I will purposely ignore it and cut out your tongue for your insolence. Your sisters died in vain because your guardian has decided what you say is not worth her leaving the room for us to talk in private. Sleep well with the dying screams of your sisters' agonies echoing in your mind and know your fellow Amazons have wished this fate upon you. Good-bye." "How; augurs are sacrosanct and their messages are rare and crucial to the Host," the guardian sputtered. "Didn't know, don't care and could care less what you think is crucial for the Host," I sighed as I started walking away. "What is happening?" the augur wailed. "Her visions are lacerations on her soul," the guardian howled. "Does her pain mean nothing to you?" Those two had to be incredibly tight, the guardian watching the augur scarred and worn down by the task she had been chosen for; and not being able to help. "Not enough to keep me here," I answered at the door. "She's your buddy, not mine and I have a plateful of unhappiness already set before me." I opened the door. "Is there a problem?" Krasimira inquired as I stepped out. She had a guardian too. Pamela was also close by and strategically placed to dispose of said guardian. "Her bodyguard told me to ignore Tadêfi, so I am," I muttered. I hurt. The pain-killers had yet to kick in; and I'd just come out of a coma. Fuck'em. If Ishara wanted me to nail that girl, she was going to have to step up on her level of assistance aimed my way. I accepted that she had her limitations, but so did I. "Cáel Ishara, is that precisely what she said?" the Keeper was being diplomatic. "No; what do I call you?" "Krasimira, Cáel," she answered. "I do not believe it was Tadêfi's intent to be ignored. May I mediate?" "No," I replied. "I will talk with Tadêfi alone, or not at all. Quite frankly, half the time you women open your mouths, I want to kick you off the roof of this building. Either I see some damn humility; your words, Krasimira; or I carry on the Amazon tradition with Ishara and her legion of former 'Runners' while the rest of you are throttled by your pride." Do note that the Executive Services floor was very active and several members heard my statement loud and clear. "May we please try this meeting one more time?" she requested. Her bodyguard nearly choked on Krasimira's gentle, conciliatory tone. "I could not consider myself an Amazon and deny the Keeper's suggestion on this matter. Let's give it one more shot," I conceded. All I was asking for was 'nice'. I wasn't deluded into thinking Krasimira was suddenly my fan. She was simply acting on the enlightenment that her ancestors and goddesses had revealed. We headed back into Katrina's office. As with any divine direction, she knew she had two choices; harm, or heal. She had accepted responsibility that to heal her people, the spirits had chosen a male. Liking me had nothing to do with it. Being true to her oaths and nature as an Amazon were the acting forces here. Amazons survived, first and foremost. They feared nothing, not even change. Her fellows had denied the need for change based solely on pride and Krasimira recognized that now. Back in Katrina's office, the guardian was trying to calm her nearly hysterical charge. I would have been much happier if we had been more alone. The room had become crowded with ghosts during my short absence. Krasimira, who was following, bumped into me. "Ishara?" she whispered. As unfortunate as that was, Tadêfi's blind eyes following the fixed stares of all the ghosts in my direction was worse. I squeezed my brain for an appropriate bit of trivia that would put my depression on its ass. There was this movie by M. Night Shakalaka-ding dong (or something like that) about a boy who saw dead people. The hero; the man trying to help the boy; he turned out to be a ghost as well who didn't figure that out until the end of the flick. But, it got better. Using the numerous ghostly gazes like searchlights pinning down an escaping convict, Tadêfi ran right into my arms. That was a pretty remarkable feat; a blind girl in an unfamiliar room covering four meters flawlessly. But, it kept getting better. All the ghosts started to yammer, clambering for attention. Tadêfi began to weep piteously. I had to wonder if this was Ishara's penalty for keeping my mind free of her meddling. No one else seemed to understand what the fuck was going on. Krasimira was the augur wrangler, not in tune with the spirits herself. She was also the Supreme Litigator, which necessitated her being able to interact with the mortal world on a constant basis, so I couldn't hold her lack of spiritual mojo against her. My instincts were telling me that screaming and yelling was pointless. The cacophony was incredibly vexing, but I could deal. Tadêfi couldn't. I was looking at this dilemma from the wrong angle. Instead of taking on the hundreds, I would take on the one. I placed one of the augur's hands on my lips then placed my hands over her ears. My hope was that since I could interact with the restless dead, my flesh could act as a buffer to their insistent beseeching of us for recognition of their numerous appeals. My first song was one of the melodies sung to me by Oneida's kin while I fought off her Death Pledge. Bit by bit, a tiny fraction followed by the greater whole, I pulled Tadêfi back from the brink of insanity. Eventually, she began mumbling a different refrain into my chest. "My ears work better than my lip-reading," I chided her playfully. The ghosts hadn't stopped their pleas for attention. It was the sonic and tactile sensation of my song upon her fingers and the fluctuation of my lungs in pushing forth the music that allowed her to focus on her mortal coil. As we sang together, eventually with her teaching me a few new ballads, we shut the world out. Once our shared reality collapsed down to just the two of us, the babble diminished then finally faded away. "May I relay my message now?" Tadêfi requested. "No, we have to have sex first," I replied. Whoops; shit-storm. What followed was a blur. "I can't have sex," Tadêfi murmured. "The touch of a man would corrupt me." Plus. "She is an augur," her guardian declared firmly. "She must remain a virgin." Plus. "Cáel Ishara, augurs cannot be;” Krasimira's tongue became tied. "You go, Tiger," Pamela tossed out there. "Tadêfi, where are you right now?" I began my rotation of responses. "Why does she have to be a virgin? And, thanks Pamela. That was less helpful than normal." "I aim to disappoint, Cheetah," Pamela smirked. I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was. She; Tarzan. Me; Cheetah, the Immortal baby chimpanzee. Just what I needed. "It is the law," the guardian moved to separate us. "She must not be touched by a man," Krasimira stated. "Not having intercourse is implied. If she has been corrupted, why did the spirits continue to surround her after Cáel's touch?" "Keeper, this cannot be allowed," the guardian changed her focus. "I agree in that this is your choice to make," Krasimira countered. "Without knowing the missive, you must decide what your charge may, and may not, do. Your oath is to her personally, not to me or any other entity. Consider what the task of guardian truly is before deciding." The convoluted decision: what was the chief duty of a guardian; the message, or the messenger? The augur could convey urgency yet was powerless to act without the guardian's permission. She had to trust her guardian with the basics of life. The guardian; she had to trust what could not be sensed, or even fully understood. "Why; why this condition?" the guardian returned her gaze to me. I could have been a dick. "Dot Ishara told me to have intercourse with the first woman I saw when I woke up," I said. "If you hurt her, I will kill you," the Amazon threatened. "First off, Tadêfi, would you like to fool around?" I might want to get my potential sex partners permission before proceeding. You know; not be a rapist. "I don't know what you want, but if this is what we must do," Tadêfi acquiesced. "First time sex is going to be painful, so be prepared," I cautioned both young women. "If you;” the guardian repeated her threat. "Cáel, you should give daily thanks I don't leave a trail of dead bodies everywhere you go," Pamela declared with malicious menace. "So many pretentious bitches; I tell you, my ability to tolerate your forgiving nature is being sorely tested, damn it." Wow, was that totally ass-backwards, or what? As a side note to life: I was going to receive a serious beat-down the second my sexual tryst ended. Two pernicious women: Buffy; I had been damaged by someone who wasn't her. There was no way she'd forgive me for that. And Pamela; I had sent Estere away to escort Libra instead of keeping the assassin close. Without a doubt, I had taken Pamela away from some odious errand conducted on my behalf, yet without my knowledge. Yes, some serious torment was headed my way. Back to the girl at hand. Back to being the 'me' I wanted to be. Oink! With torturous reluctance, the guardian made to leave. "Wait," I called out. "You can stay if you join us." Yes, I was angling for a three-way with a women who wanted to make line drives with a five iron using my nuts for golf balls; and the blind and deaf girl. I couldn

Insults, Felix and Ash Men. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Caring is a curse you dare not go without.” Saint Marie opened the door and went in with me following along. The meeting was in process. We were flashed concerned looks for multiple reasons; Pony-Goddess Saint Marie in her sports bra and boy shorts, me in biker pants, biking shoes and nothing else, and me being late. Katrina gave the two of us a momentary notice then proceeded with her meeting. "Katrina," Saint Marie interrupted. Katrina responded with an icy stare. "You are interrupting; make it quick," Katrina stated calmly. "Then I'll wait until you finish," Saint Marie responded with her own false politeness. She randomly meandered around Katrina's office making a nuisance of herself. I resumed my place in the line-up in time to get my work-review from Katrina. I rocked at my job. Apparently I was purloining corporate resources for a prototype gravity device that would crash the Moon into the Earth. My crime was that my project was over-budget; oh yeah, and I'd end all life on Earth. "Cáel, I am unsure if I should order you to work harder, or not to try so hard," Katrina worried. "First off, I apologize for being late and under-dressed today. I meant no disrespect and I have no excuse. I'm being stabbed repeatedly with a knife at three o'clock if that helps?" I offered. "Really?" Katrina arched an eyebrow. "Really," I confirmed. "Then I get to carry around one of those cool knives like the rest of this merry band here." "My breast implants; I'm going for a respectable 'B'; go in next Wednesday. Two weeks later and I'm off to Denmark to get my 'franks and beans' cut-off and tucked," I tried to sound serious. "A few hair extensions and I'll be one of the team for real," I grinned. "Katrina, why do you put up with this?" Saint Marie seethed. "Saint Marie, it is not your station to question me, or my orders," Katrina countered. "Still, a lesson is in order." "Daphne, do you like working with Cáel?" Katrina regarded her female 'new hire'. "He is more than funny; and very attractive," Daphne responded. "He provides insight into life that a normal Amazon wouldn't have access to. He instructs with humor and bravery in equal measure." "Fabiola?" "He is a waste of resources best put elsewhere," Fabiola insisted. "He is a source of dissension. We would be better training him and others like him to replace our diseased stock." I took some small level of comfort that the other 'new' hires were almost as offended as I was, though I couldn't show it. "Tigger?" "He was a vessel for the will of our ancestors," she replied. "What more proof do we need that he is necessary around here?" "Does anyone have anything different to add?" Katrina gazed over the others. No one spoke. "That's why (dead word spoken) Saint Marie," Katrina assumed a dark goddess-like aura. "Now apologize." "Apologize for questioning you?" Saint Marie snorted. "Hardly. You are using my people and my facilities to train a male in a manner not approved of by the Council." "I have Hayden's permission, but feel free to follow your convictions," Katrina nodded. "You have a daughter in outdoor training right now, Saint Marie. It would be utterly tragic if she experienced a crippling injury," Katrina sighed. "You wouldn't dare," Saint Marie took a few steps toward Katrina who stood up from her desk. "Dare? Hayden and I have tolerated your intransigence until now," Katrina glared. "Keep to your beliefs. Now you know the cost of standing in the way of progress," Katrina continued. "We cannot afford to remove you, but we can end your counter-productive thinking at this generation." "When the Council finds out you've overstepped your bounds it will be the end of you," Saint Marie kept coming. "We are a dying people, Saint Marie. Hayden and I are willing to kill as many of you as necessary so that our daughters will have daughters of their own," Katrina stated. "If you want to see who is truly overstepping, recall our oaths. We obey the High Priestess, the Council, our Houses and our duties. I am the Spear in Night and Death. You are the Golden Mare." "You wage war upon our many enemies. I ferret them out, within and beyond our society," Katrina educated us. "If I determine an Amazon is an enemy, I bring their name to Hayden for a final adjudication of the Ancestors. If the Ancestors deny you, then I must remove the enemy. You know how that goes." "My daughter is not the enemy," Saint Marie spat. "That is not our place to decide," Katrina gave a feral grin. "You should have been an Augur if you wanted that kind of knowledge. Besides, neither you nor your daughter are under sentence of death. She can live a long full life without an eye; or an arm." Saint Marie fidgeted, contemplating violence. "Everyone, but Cáel leave," Katrina ordered. Saint Marie was staying as clearly intended. After Dora shut the door, Katrina added, "Touch my male again, and I'll do something worse to you." "What I do to a male shouldn't matter," Saint Marie growled. "The New Directive matters to us all and I think Cáel Nyilas will be the only one to pass the first round of the program, so Hayden thinks he matters; as do I," Katrina glared right back. "He hit me," Saint Marie grumbled. "After you grabbed his jaw like you would an unruly child," Katrina countered. "He was a rebellious male," Copper Horse chick kept coming. "Saint Marie, where did you confront him? It wasn't a basket weaving class; it was a firing range," Katrina sighed in exasperation. "Cáel being on the range was the reason you came here. Why did you manhandle him?" A pregnant pause followed. "I was an hour late so I missed his practice time," Saint Marie admitted. "Cáel, I blame you," Katrina looked my way. "Yes Ma'am; Katrina," I nodded. What did I do now? "Cáel's presence makes normally controlled, rational women act in an abnormal fashion," Katrina informed Saint Marie. "I prefer to believe that than think we are incapable of accepting a lone outsider male amongst us," Katrina added. "If we treat him the way we treated our old male population we would be perpetuating our mistakes. He doesn't submit because that was the type of male we selected. Why is he learning how to fight? That should be obvious to you." "Care to enlighten me?" I requested. "No," the two women replied. Ah, what the fuck. "That's okay. I figured it out," I shrugged. "I was checking to see if I warranted the truth." Katrina put her face into her upraised hands. She may have wept a single tear. "You know nothing," Saint Marie stated dismissively. "He knows enough," Katrina shook her head. "Who would have told him?" Saint Marie looked back to Katrina suspiciously. "Why don't you ask him?" Katrina chuckled. Saint Marie turned back to me. "Was it Katrina?" Saint Marie threatened. "No and no 'one' person. It was two unrelated slip-ups by two unrelated Amazons," I said. "One referenced a previous time when the Amazons let men bear arms, which led to disaster. The other was the use of the term 'Ash Men' as a positive moniker." "That's all I know. I suspect there was a time when the Amazons let down their guard and allowed men to be equals, or semi-equals, in their society. There was a rebellion that left a bitter taste on the Amazon racial psyche. Somehow the Ash Men played a positive role in Amazon society. For some reason, you exterminated them," I concluded. Saint Marie flinched. "Why do you say that?" she studied me. "They are not around today and you are all hateful psychopaths," I explained. "Again, you know nothing," Saint Marie insisted. "Katrina, unless you are not finished insulting my intelligence, can I use your bathroom so that I can get dressed and go to work?" I looked at my boss. "Insult to your intelligence duly noted. When you are finished, report to Medical. They want to test a variety of gene-therapies on you," Katrina told me. I stumbled and stared. Katrina laughed. "Get to work." From the bathroom, I heard Saint Marie question Katrina. "Is he afraid of Medical, or is he worried about being a test subject?" she posed. "Neither; he's surprised that he had his job explained to him before he actually got there. It has never happened before," Katrina replied. "You send him on missions without him knowing what he's going to be doing?" Saint Marie grunted. "Yes. It makes him think on his feet," Katrina noted. "That is probably why his work is so substandard," Saint Marie remarked. "Cáel's work is not substandard. He may be the best new hire in the batch. I give him crappy reviews to keep him on his toes," Katrina snickered. "He knows what I'm doing, but he still keeps trying harder despite that," Katrina sounded amused. "Cáel is one of the few joys in my life; and if he doesn't finish getting dressed in the next 30 seconds I'm going to assign him to babysitting Marilynn at the hospital next." I hoped out of Katrina's bathroom; mostly dressed. "Is Marilynn okay?" I worried. "I didn't get the call last night, but I never imagined anything bad happened to her." Saint Marie appeared confused. "Someone gave her a bad drugs and she nearly overdosed," Katrina brought me up to date. "That is where Desiree is. Now go to work." Off I went. "He is enamored of Marilynn St. James?" I caught Saint Marie inquiring. "Oh no," Katrina answered. "He has rather a low opinion of her, but Cáel would run into a burning ammo dump to save Constanza. He is stupidly enchanting that way." I had one last hurdle. There were the 'new' hires talking with Felix. They were captured in his orbit and he was having a blast soaking up the attention. He was making real inroads with the ladies but he missed a fundamental aspect of his environment; who hunted who. "Cáel," Felix parted the women as he came my way. "How did you do last night? Didn't you and Gina hook-up? I'm done with her, so it isn't like you'd be poaching," he grinned. I sensed the emotional tidal shift. "Nah, both Gina and I were of the opinion you dumped her to have a one-night stand with Brooke, break her heart then toss her back to me," I shrugged. Felix glared. This wasn't how the 'game' was played. Where was my outrage? "Are you going to take her back?" Felix went all alpha-predator on me. Bad move. The only predators around here had to have tits; bulging pectorals didn't count. "If you do, go easy on her. She's sore," he kept grinning like the wolf he was. "Besides," he fished something flimsy and back out of his pocket, "he can return these to her." He tossed me Brooke's panties from last night. In Havenstone, Brooke was a 'nobody'; an outsider. She didn't matter. Felix taking a trophy from a woman did matter. I was different because I knew the score. Felix didn't have that luxury. I actually held them up, displaying Brooke's rather daring choice in evening lingerie. A little bit of education was in order. "Pretty clever; the old hiding the panties trick so you can exhibit them later," I chuckled. "I use it to get a call back. You clearly get off on mailing them to her parents, boyfriend, or husband as if having sex with you wasn't humiliation enough." Felix moved to the very edge of my personal space. "Now you are being a poor sport," he sneered. "What do you mean?" I remained cool. "I went over to Brooke's this morning. We critiqued your sexual performance. She found you truly impressive; just a little weak down the closing stretch." "She said that to make you feel less inadequate," Felix reposed. "Nah; she said that so she could have sex with me," I sighed. "I fought her off as long as I could, but she wrestled me down and rode me like the pony express. If you wore her out; well; ah, she recovers quickly and vigorously." "You are so full of shit," he laughed. "You got a pity fuck. Accept it." "Think what you will," I smirked. "I left her smiling. You left her in tears and isn't the woman's pleasure what it is all about?" Pandering to my audience. "I agree," Felix took back in his surroundings. Nice recovery except for; "So that's why you stole Brooke's panties and chose to publicly hurl them at me," I met his gaze, the bastard, "because she matters; most?" Felix could feel the room temperature dropping by the Kelvin. "It is how the game is played," he snarled. He was starting to clue in that things had gone wrong. How had they gone wrong? For starters, the only Alphas allowed in Havenstone didn't have dicks. Treating women, even outsider women, as if they were game pieces on a male's only board wouldn't wash here. I had coughed up the name of every woman I'd ever had intercourse with; but that was for the job, not for general consumption. Felix, by idiotically seducing all the new hires in Executive Services had showed them EXACTLY what he thought of them; outsider women to be taken as prizes. Reference the Greeks in the Trojan War for how the Amazons felt about that. This was not sympathy for world-wide femininity. This was terrorists attacking a school. When the Amazons found those terrorists, they killed them; not to save outsider children, but because the terrorist were fucking dangerous. Since Felix treated all women like trophies and conquest, he, by definition, would treat Amazon women the same way. Good job, Pinhead. Felix was a pretty smart guy. He finally realized I'd kicked his ass without lifting a finger. Felix couldn't figure out why he'd lost, only that he'd lost. Then we were back to Felix being the man who always has to win. He couldn't let go. He couldn't let me have my moment and depart in peace. This was made all the worse for I was the Bumpkin; the guy he'd dissed from Day One. "I guess I need to have another go at Brooke to set the record straight," Felix hissed quietly. "I'll make it easy on you," I laughed loudly. "I am tired of you hiding behind my acquaintances to get at me. I have a friend coming over at 5:10 pm, so give me an hour and I'll meet you on the mats." "Why should I?" he sneered. "What's on the line?" "Normally I fight for a cause, even if it is my own self-respect. I'm making an exception in your case; I'll fight you solely to kick your ass. Just cause you are a lousy human being. I know you are because I'm one too. Fight, or cluck; your choice." "I'll fight you," he smiled confidently. "I'll break you for everyone to see and then I'll take that luscious blonde." I had to laugh. "Good luck with that," I chuckled. I could see it now. Felix: 'You are now my prize'; Elsa: 'You are now in Intensive Care'. Woot! I couldn't lose.  (Somewhere in the midst of this nightmare, Cáel needs to earn a paycheck) Felix had the physical confrontation he wanted. Somewhere in the back of my mind was that I had to do something inane yet again; like consumer test Ginsu Spatulas, or the equivalent. Felix noted the open hostility directed his way, but had neither the knowledge, nor the empathy to give a fuck. The elevator closed on his smug face. Work time. "That didn't take you long at all," Saint Marie chortled from behind me. I jolted. "If I wasn't doing this, I'd be hand-feeding polar bears, so cut me some slack," I groaned. "I was under the impression that your pugnacity was more of a defense mechanism, not male bravado," Saint Marie probed. "I am as much surprised as you are about this. I don't even like the girl involved. I've never fought over a woman before, but Felix used that woman to get at me; ineffectively," I mused. "My emotions don't; you don't want to be hearing any of this, do you?" "No," Saint Marie said. I stared at her. She stared at me. "Yes?" "Have you ever done any bikini wrestling?" I blurted out. She blinked. "Gotta go. Work to do," and I fled. In the elevator I recognized one of the ladies from International Finance though I didn't know her name. "What happened to your face?" she asked. "Do you know who the Golden Mare is?" I replied. She nodded very respectfully. "Well, she hit me." The woman studied me. "I guess I shouldn't have hit her first." "You hit (dead word spoken) Saint Marie?" She gulped. "I'm stunned you are still alive." "You and me both," I sighed. "I'm starting to regret suggesting she take up bikini wrestling." Blink. "Tell me about it. I was looking into her eyes and that was the first thing to come to mind," I shrugged. "I repeat, I'm stunned you are still alive," she shook her head. "What do you mean? I think she'd look good in a bikini," I stated. The door opened to Medical. "Have a good day at work now," I smiled. "I'm off to crush marbles with a sledgehammer." My real job was to be a genetic guinea pig. I had to sit naked on a gurney and let them take blood and tissues samples. The sperm sample was fun. First I insisted that I'd been in a fight earlier in the morning and my elbows weren't up to the job. After confirming this, they had some poor 'new hire' jack me off. I held out as long as I could, to the point she gave me a blowjob; her first. Sadly, when senior medical technician informed her of the extinction of her oral virginity, they were both less than pleased yours truly. I reminded them that I didn't shoot off into her mouth, or anything so crude. Next I informed them of a little known fact that my first ejaculate of the day (no mention of Brooke by me) was sterile and we had to repeat the process. No such luck. Damn microscopes. To prove I was a lousy patient, I feigned a collapse and a lack of breathing. I didn't grapple with my CPR specialist. I very slowly and tenderly wrapped her up in my embrace. I told her that at the moment of utter darkness, her heartbeat brought me back to the light. I was a the point of penetration when a real doctor showed up and pulled the struggling Physician's Assistant away; she hadn't finished saving me, the young Amazon protested. At this point the team threatened to give me a sedative. I responded with 'is it chemical, or a blow to the head'. They smiled and said they'd give me both if I misbehaved again. My counter-offer was a request for some Neapolitan ice cream. They conceded the issue, I got my ice cream and stopped being a jack-ass. At 11:30 am, the first battery of tests concluded. As we were wrapping up, I asked why I had to be naked for the entire thing. They stared at me. Strangely, the Amazon who had prepped me for this nonsense had made herself scarce. Damn it. The doctors then gleefully informed me that I had to be naked for the second half of the test, after lunch. I asked why. They smiled. Bitches. As I was fixing my tie, my phone rang. "Hello, Android Cáel Nyilas here," I answered. There was some giggling; Brooke. "Hey, Android Cáel, this is flesh and blood Brooke Lee," she snickered. Man, I had turned her around emotionally in only a few hours. Screw Felix. "Have you eaten lunch yet?" she asked. I bit back my automatic response; asking if she was on the menu. We'd talked about Libra as I was leaving this morning. "You, me and Libra?" I suggested. Brooke put her hand over the phone; the dearth of background noise was the giveaway. "She may not want to see you," Brooke hedged. That meant Libra was listening in. "We talked about this earlier, Brooke," I sighed. "I want a chance to at least talk with her." Not totally false. I wanted to fuck her again. That necessitated some amount of conversation so I was willing to put forth the ergs of energy. "I'll make the effort," Brooke promised. Making Libra a deal-breaker might have been sugar-coated chocolate for Libra. It would have also made them both suspicious of my suspicions. "Please do your best," I said. "Where do you want meet?" "My place?" she teased. "Libra plus I would only have forty-five minutes with you, which is not nearly enough time," I reminded her. Sex. "Libra doesn't have to know," Brooke was now pressing Libra's buttons. "We are not going to go there," I insisted. They didn't own me and I didn't own them. We were bantering back and forth, playing with sexual innuendo of the relationship kind. A good aphrodisiac is a woman thinking you are foregoing sex with another woman to have sex with her. Best of all (for me) for hooking Libra and me back together, Libra was going to let Brooke fuck me yet again. Win-win-win. "We'll meet at Stanhope's," Brooke finished. I agreed to meet her there in ten minutes and off I went. Aisha, the Arabic swimsuit model/SD hottie called for me as I was heading out the door. I asked why. She didn't say so I ran for it. Screw them all; it was my lunch break. I made it to Stanhope's. I was fleet of foot and was getting the hang of hailing taxis. Libra was with Brooke at an outdoor table at Stanhope's. I didn't fake surprise. My cover was that I had faith in Brooke. I kissed Brooke while Libra gave me the cold shoulder. "Libra doesn't believe we've talked about her," Brooke opened up. "You are the one who keeps shouting out her name during orgasm," I sighed. "That's not a joking matter," Libra snapped viciously. "It made you talk to me," I winked. Libra growled. "I hate you," she seethed. "That is a perfectly normal, if heart-rending reaction to our past two encounters," I admitted. "I hope it hurt," Libra seethed. "Besides, I went out with Brian Fung last night." She was stating the obvious. I was okay with that. It left her open to my lie. "Have you moved on?" I moped. Libra not seeing me anymore made me want to cry. Missing her was utter anguish; it was written all over my face. Non-verbal deception is as important as the verbal kind. I was not beating a dead horse, I was coaxing a thoroughbred to the Triple Crown. Give the girl what she wants; verbally, sexually and, if you can pull it off convincingly, emotionally. "I don't know," Libra stated which meant 'no, she hadn't moved on'. "Let's go out tomorrow night," I suggested. Be bold enough to make the first move, but not so aggressive she feels pressured. Being a man isn't beating your chest; it is stepping up to get your ego battered by the girl. If it wasn't for my first, failed romantic attempt, I wouldn't be where I am today. It hurt like Hell when she publically rejected me. These days, my bed was always warm so the pain was well worth it. "Why not tonight?" Libra got combative. "Felix and I had a disagreement at work," I grinned. "We are settling the issue tonight at six." "What happened?" Brooke leaned in close to me, hungry for details. I was a bastard. "He loudly presented me with these," I slipped Brooke her panties under the table. "In the middle of my office and co-workers. Even my Boss heard it," I added. Brooke's deeply tanned complexion paled. Libra didn't see the panties, but she knew the score. "What did you do?" Libra pressed. "I told him Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own decisions about who she was with," I started. "Brooke is a wonderful lady and she should be courted based on that. Felix had this bizarre idea that I felt possessive about her and thought he was using Brooke to hurt me over a slight at work," I wove forth the basic truths. "I'm not going to fight Brooke's battles," I affirmed which meant that 'yes, I was going to fight Brooke's battles'. If you are a guy and you assume that the woman is actually hearing the words coming out of your mouth, you are deluded. The reverse is also the same. "If a man has a problem with me, he comes after me, not my friends," I grew stern. This meant Felix was not a man. It also meant that I considered Brooke, thus Libra, my friends. They were okay with that. This didn't mean they thought of me as a friend. It was similar to the family butler. I had to memorize every detail of their lives. If they remembered my birthday, I should feel blessed; symbolically speaking of course. I'd make an abysmal butler. "Did he hit you?" Libra leaned across the table and stroked my cheek right below the place Saint Marie had clocked me. "That? Nah. An Archer fish tried to shoot my eye out so now he's fish sticks," I replied. "With all your wounds," Libra hesitated, "Are you in the military?" "Libra, I'm a disaster as a civilian," I chuckled. "I'd make an impossible soldier. Half way through basic training I'd start showing up in a kilt; 'cause it makes me feel free and breezy down there'." "When they tried to make me change, I'd charge them with cultural insensitivity," I smiled. "What would you do if they let you get away with it?" Brooke snickered. "Take up horse archery; because you never know when you'll be without fuel and bullets on the modern battlefield," I postulated. "If they let me get away with that, I'd stay, but I'd join the airborne." "I like parachuting," Brooke nodded. "Have you ever done it?" She bet I hadn't and she was right. "Never before in this lifetime. I really want to see if I could get my horsed trained to do it first," I chortled. "Lord knows, nobody else has. The first Airmobile Horse Archery unit. That would be pretty cool." "The horse would break her legs," Libra frowned. "Use an air mattress platform for the horse to stand on, sort of like those air bags stuntmen use, but smaller," I reasoned. I wasn't sure if Brooke and Libra were more stunned about the plausibility of my suggestion, or that I had created it off the cuff. We ordered lunch and drinks. Service was very efficient so I had only pushed my salad aside to have my grilled shrimp replaced it when a shadow fell across our table. It was a stormy Aisha. "Cáel Nyilas, you are coming with me," she spoke with deceptive calm. "No," I replied then ate a shrimp. She put her hand on my shoulder. I brandished my fork. "Listen up," I grumbled. I tapped my wristwatch with my fork, "I've got 35 more minutes on my lunch break. I'm eating with friends; okay, almost friends; " "I'm Cáel's friend," Brooke rallied. Aisha bore down on my collarbone, so I stabbed at her hand with the fork. She moved it out of the way first. "Come now," she growled. "Very well," I sighed. "Since you certainly have never heard this from a man before meeting me, I'll clarify. NO, I'm not coming with you. Go away you annoying twit. If that was unclear, let me add; no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no and no." Aisha looked over her shoulder. There were two more SD chicklets. Woot! "Last chance to keep this simple," Aisha threatened. "Brooke and Libra, you need to stand up and back away," I instructed them as I stood up as well, "I'm going to need your chairs as weapons." The girls grabbed their food and backed up. "Don't make a scene," Aisha whispered. "Ex-squeeze me? I'm eating lunch. In thirty-five minutes I'll be back at work. You are the one being a total bitch for annoying the fuck out of me here," I glared. "All you had to do was tell me why you wanted me back at Havenstone, but you didn't feel the need, so now we have this stand-off." "It is not a stand-off and I don't explain myself to you," Aisha glared back. She even showed me she had a gun. I laughed, pulled out my phone. "What are you doing?" Aisha made a swipe for the phone. "Making me late for work," I chuckled. "I'm dialing 9 1 1." "Do that and you will be in a world of trouble," she threatened. "You haven't thought this out, have you, Aisha?" I snickered. "If it was important to my job, Katrina, or Medical would have called me. If it was a calamity, Hayden perhaps. Barring that, I can't wait to hear your excuse for starting a public brawl." "I told you to come with me and you had best obey," Aisha hissed. That was the tipping point. Recycling old, failed arguments is the sign that your opponent has lost. "Yeah; right," I shrugged. I sat back down and began eating. A second later, Brooke and Libra joined me. Aisha retreated to the curb and waited; and got ticketed because it was a No Parking Zone. "Who was that woman? I've seen her before," Brooke commented. "She's that woman from the first night we met," Libra answered. "She's not my boss so I don't care," I tried to recapture our earlier mood. It was only partially successful. The three SD ladies kept their eyes on us until dinner was cleared away and it was time to go back. I kissed both Brooke and Libra goodbye with a promise of a date the next night. When I tried to walk past Aisha, she grabbed my arm. From my point of view, a ride to work was a ride to work and this one was free. I travelled in silence. Miraculously, they didn't answer my request to go to Medical, though we were at least going up; and up; and up. Crap. They deposited me in Hayden's office then departed. It was Hayden, Katrina, Saint Marie, Elsa, and Tessa. The door shut ominously behind me. "Cáel, I like you," Hayden began. "Unless you are working on an assigned task, you are not allowed to defy a woman of Havenstone who gives you a clear concise order, especially one from the Security Detail." It didn't take me a second to formulate my treatise on the Rights of Man. "No." That didn't go over well. Into the emptiness, I forged ahead. "You can't expect for me to be given conflicting orders and expect me to succeed. You people have a chain of command for a reason. I follow that chain like every other member of Havenstone." "You are not a member of Havenstone," Hayden pointed out. That I had to think about. I scanned each impassive face in the room. I wanted to cry; not out of fear; out of frustration because I really had tried so hard to make this work. "You are all a bunch of cowards and I regret ever wanting to be part of this place," I spat. "Your opinion of us does not matter," Hayden started. "Cowardly act number one," I interrupted. Hayden's gaze hardened. "It is your time. You publically defied a Havenstone employee on a mission concerning you," she continued. "Cowardly acts number two and three," I growled. Now Saint Marie and Elsa closed in. I turned to face them. I wanted to go down swinging, no matter how futile the gesture. "Cowardly act number four; suddenly, when you desire, my insolence matters," I set myself for what was to come. "Don't fight," Tessa commanded softly. Katrina kept her own counsel. "That's your fucking problem, right there," I shouted. "This isn't the Sunshine Scouts. This is a martial society. I fight, because that is what every bitch here is broadcasting. I didn't hit Rhada when she hit me. I called for help, like any sane individual. When no help was forthcoming, I called for someone to get the police. Again, you did nothing." "Fuck you all. Rhada attacked me, so I put her down. Madi attacked me, so I put her down too; and it all your damn fault and not one of you has the courage to face that fact," I shouted. "You attack me for fighting back at the same time you tell me to fit in. Now which is it? Am I to fit in to a martial culture, or am I not? Make up your damn minds!" "You do not get to talk to us like that," Saint Marie murmured. "Somebody better talk to us like this," Katrina finally spoke. "Face facts: Cáel is here because he resists. He resists because that is the lesson we are teaching him, Sisters." "What do you mean?" Elsa regarded Katrina. "When Cáel is challenged physically and resists successfully, or even unsuccessfully, he grows in the estimation of our Sisters. No one admits it, but it is the truth. The harder he fights, the more he is valued. It is a very simple principle. He has never believed he is a member of the Host, a Runner, or even a recruit. He does not strive to be an Amazon of any kind," Katrina lectured. "Then we expect him to do ridiculous things like walk off with an Amazon he barely knows who doesn't even explain where he is going, or what he is supposed to do," Katrina shook her head. "Somehow we forecast his desire to be treated with a modicum of respect to be a threat? Respecting him does not make him an Amazon; it makes him a warrior in our cause." "The Council has not decided on that portion of the New Directive yet," Saint Marie stated. "Warrior-Fathers," Katrina declared firmly. "My niece, Aya; you all know of her; she went to camp this week and SHE formed her own war band with her fellow students. Fuck you all very much; It works!" "Katrina," Hayden cautioned. "Hayden, I am tired of this half-measure bullshit. There is no being half-alive. We live, or we die. We made a mistake then we made another one. Let's not make it three." I raised my hand. "Yes?" Hayden finally acknowledged me. "Can I go back to work now? Sitting here is like commenting on the rain. I have a lot to say, but it won't affect the rain one iota," I reasoned. "You are not going to run?" Tessa asked. I knew she was joking. "Well, I can't get past the front door. I can't escape out the garage and I left my diamond-tipped glasscutter and 150 meters of rope in my other jacket," I informed her. "I guess I'll have to use the 15 kg of C-4 I have stuck in my shorts. I know it makes me look like I took a colossal dump in my underwear, but trust me, it is only a weapon," I grinned. I tried to get around Elsa. She brushed her hand over my chest. "You are special," she purred. "You scare me," I mumbled. "I know," she grinned happily. "Bye Pony-Lady," I waved to Saint Marie. "Cáel," Hayden called out. I halted, but didn't turn around. "You will stop referring to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady', is that clear?" "Yes Hayden. Good-bye Saint Marie," I said as I departed. "Are you sure he is not mentally defective?" Saint Marie questioned. "He is," Elsa replied. "He laughs at Death." See, what did I tell you? Now you can run out and pick up an infatuated female psychopath of your very own. (Later in the day) Knife-fighting class was taught by this painfully thin yet tall Amazon with mostly grey-white hair. There was nothing wrong with her reflexes, or sight. She regarded me, her only student, with passionless eyes. She had me sit down cross-legged, she did the same opposite me, and we spent an hour talking about the philosophy of knife-fighting. Knives were hardly ever the first weapon of choice. That was part of the lesson; knowing when to choose a knife to fight with. We talked about all kinds of blades, focusing on the short, hilt-less blades every Amazon carried. I had to get one special-made. It was the size of my palms. If the blade was too small, it would cut up my hand when I used it. Except for a few hand motions, it was verbal instruction. Knife from an advantage, knife from the front, and knife at a disadvantage. Each had its own set of rules to follow. It was cool. Me having a penis didn't bother her in the least. At the end of the lesson, I asked if I could call her Zen Master. She said 'no', her name was Pamela. I then asked if I could call her Zen Mistress Pamela. Smiling, she said 'no' again. My last attempt was 'Blossoming Petals of Death Pamela' at which point she laughed and told me to give it a rest. I found myself with a free hour so I raced down to the pool and took in a few laps. It was a crime against nature that all the Amazons were one-piece bathing suits. Here I was in my Speedo and no one to play with. That wasn't really true. After my first lap, two Amazon lasses tried to engage me in a race without actually talking to me. As they were turning back they realized I was keeping to my same strong, casual strokes in my own little World. That annoyed them so the next time around, one got into my lane, turned to face me and stopped. Right according to plan, or if you prefer, like stealing candy apple kisses from a lady. I almost ran into her. At the very last second, I pulled up, letting my body coast up against her. She was treading water and looking vibrant. Her treading water meant I didn't have to. One hand settled on her mid-back (friendly enough), but the other one cupped her right ass and immediately probed along her cleft and to her wet tunnelfrom behind. Her 'Happy Choice' pop-up indicators went off and I had a winner. I was sure I could have pointed a shotgun in this woman's face and she'd have spit on me. With my pelvice bumping up against her crotch, my finger wiggling around her suit for her tunnel, and my other arm keeping her close, she looked totally flummoxed. "What are you doing?" she whispered. I was sure she wanted to have that sound authoritative, not like plea for an instruction manual. "How about this," I replied quietly, "you keep your hands moving and I'll kick so that you can wrap your legs around my waist?" "Why would I want to do that?" she asked; while her legs wrapped around my waist. A little positon altering with my hand and I was having her pulse against me. "Deena?" the other Amazon called out. She was swimming in close proximity now. "I;” Deena responded to her comrade. "You are taking liberties," she chastised me even as an erotic smile graced her lips. "Please don't turn me in," I murmured to her. My lips were a few millimeters from hers. The other woman could clearly make out our physical relationship between us. "Stop that," the unnamed woman demanded. "Ah;” Deena moaned as I slipped two fingers past her swimsuit and into her slickness. The stranger tried to separate us, but Deena shook her head. "No; we are okay." "Stop it," I whispered. "Don't make me; don't make me; don't," and kissed. Total lie for the sake of our voyeur. Deena wasn't currently capable of making me doing anything. Why was I doing this? Out of control libido plus stress plus I still had Yasmin and Felix to deal with. Oh yeah, Deena being cute, firm and just curvaceous enough to be Grace Kelly feminine didn't hurt. "Why are we doing this?" Deena murmured sexily. "Am I making you happy?" I posed. She thought about it then nodded. "I thought being with a male would be more difficult," she countered. "Stop looking so athletic," I teased her, "and it will be easier for me to get away." Calling an Amazon 'pretty', or even 'beautiful' would have limited, if any affect. Better words were 'impressive, swift, healthy, fit and athletic, because that's what they valued in one another. Even 'scary' and 'frightening' were turning out to be good words to use. They never got enough male input to matter. "You are very healthy for a male," Deena purred back. "How healthy?" the other one asked. She was now more curious than offended with my audacity. "He's VERY healthy, Sharona," Deena smiled. "He has strong fingers as well." I knew the look Sharona shot me. It was the 'why her and not me?' The answer was clear to her; Deena had been bold, thus won. It was traditional Amazon culture. I was easier to blame me because I was the guy. All three of us knew the score. More kissing and kitty-petting ensued. It became even more rewarding when I eventually bumped into Deena's clit. I didn't have to do much. My finger rubbed against her nub, Deena really liked that and started humping my finger before I could do anything. Public sex had never been a stimuli for me. I didn't mind it and by the number of Amazons circling, or watching from poolside, they didn't mind what Deena was 'doing' to me either. There was no screaming, thunderclap of joy, or even a violent physical spasm. Deena pressed tight, made several yipping noises and came down whimpering happily. She was a truly content little camper; that was for sure. "You had sex!" one of the bystanders called out. I looked into Deena's eyes. "If you say 'yes', I'll wake up tomorrow morning in Baku Faso," I whispered. "No; no we weren't," Deena gave me a sultry look. "We were practicing lifeguarding techniques. Did I save your life?" "I'm Cáel," I breathed on her lips. "Yes, I feel like a whole new man." "We will have to hone your skills; real soon," Deena winked. That was not a request. That was 'come back, or I'll hunt you down'. "I normally cannot make it before five," I informed her. "That works for me," Deena pulled away. She gave a warm sigh as my fingers slipped out of her. I made for the side. As I pulled myself out, my equipment straining at the seams, several wonderful ladies surrounded me. "Do you think you are leaving?" they confronted me. "I have a five o'clock end-of-day meeting with Katrina," I calmly explained. Katrina was my 'Get out of Jail' free card that allowed me to escape the pool and the shower without becoming a scratching post. Amazons aren't animals; I'm just that sexy. Yes, I could pick up almost any girl at a club. I also had various Amazon pre-ordering collars with my name on it. By now my neck size was common knowledge. (Wednesday Evening) The stuff of my nightmares: I walk out from the end of day meeting with Katrina and the new hire ladies two see a gaggle of other women waiting for me, I assumed. I knew them all. Farah Winters recruited me from Bolingbrook, Umami Lhasa who was Tessa Carmichael's right-hand woman, Tessa herself; and Yasmin Palhavã, my Brazilian hottie and workout date. "Hi Cáel," they all greeted me. "Hey ladies," I did my best to look happy. "What's going on?" "Havenstone has offered me a job," Yasmin grinned. How could this possibly go wrong? Yasmin thought this place was run by a crazy cult, so why did she look at ease? She could be trying to infiltrate Havenstone; bad idea. She could have had a conversion; I hope her son would be okay. She was; high on drugs; okay, the last one was weak. "What department?" I kept going. "We are trying to convince her to start out in Security Services (the guards) then move her up to Financial Investigations due to her expertise with the Policia Federal in her homeland," Tessa said. "Cáel, by the look on your face, I know you are concerned. Ms. Carmichael; Tessa, has told me some things that put the situation in perspective," Yasmin gave me an all so sexy look. "You are far braver than I thought you were." "What? That I invested the entirety of my 401K on the comeback of Baleen Oil?" I joked. "My Son will be okay," Yasmin patted my hand. Was I that much of an open book? "Do you have an instinct to protect children?" Umami inquired. "Not before I got here, but then I didn't know anyone who would casually kill children either," I responded. I had to ask the next question. I couldn't be me and not. "Tessa, can I ask you a serious question?" I began. Tessa nodded. "Why was Yasmin 'read in' to Havenstone? I don't doubt for a second she's a qualified as an investigator, but this strikes me as highly unusual and even reckless for your; people." "It was this, or kill her," Tessa answered. "By the way, that was Yasmin's first question too." "Precisely, my question was 'are you going to kill me for that crazy cult stuff that went down last week?'" Yasmin corrected. "She said I had to answer two questions to decide that." In a bizarre, Amazon-style way, that made sense. Yes, Yasmin would beat her husband nearly to death for cheating on her; and shooting her, and she would willingly have sex again. I knew this because Buffy told me her backstory and it had Katrina asking her the two questions as well. "Yasmin, let me clarify this right now," I held my ground. "I'm cheating on you. Please don't hit me. It has been a bad day and the pain has just begun." And all the psycho-bitches laughed. "Let's go practice, É o meu P.A.," Yasmin chuckled. No one was going to tell me what the damn phrase meant. I dare not look it up on-line because if I did, and Yasmin saw that flicker of understanding in my eyes; bad things would happen to me in the bedroom. No, I needed an alibi witness. To be honest, I thought the bedroom was Paradise until some ladies (I'd cheated on; surprise, surprise) tied me to one. Having my body waxed by sadistic amateurs was only recently exceeded by being shot with an arrow on my pain meter. It is not something I like to talk about. They dyed my hair bright pink too. I ended up nailing the new assistant at the College infirmary, so it wasn't a total loss. Oh, and less I forget, they both took me back later, at the same time, without telling each other. It is a wonder I'm still alive. In an effort to keep that going, I took us to the non-blooded gym this time around. It wasn't as nice as the full-blooded one, but it was still very full service. The biggest difference I had noticed earlier was the lack of archaic weapons on the wall near the training mat. Yasmin and I decided on a 40/20 split; forty minute of working out and twenty minutes on the mats. Around 5:30 pm, Felix showed up. Like me, he automatically drew attention and he'd clearly been cultivating his aura. He barely spared me a glance, being absolutely confident he had the advantage in every aspect of our contest; both physically and socially. Within minutes a subliminal ripple moved through the crowd. I was spotting Yasmin so it took me a bit to figure out what was going on; full-bloods had entered. One by one, I picked out Daphne, Paula, Dora, Tigger, Violet and Oneida. They weren't coming at me; that would have kept things calm. No, 'my' ladies were circulating and I didn't need ESP to figure out what they were saying. In the ladies' wake, evil looks where shot Felix's way. Once more, he felt the undercurrent but misunderstood it. He thought I was seeding the crowd against him. One Amazon 'Runner' cleared up the nature of the disturbance, if not reason for the outrage. "Did you really take a woman's underwear to use as a trophy to throw in Cáel's face?" the disbelieving woman asked. Felix was fearless. "Of course not," he assured her. "One of Cáel's many one night stands stopped by my place, slept and forgot; something. That's all." Good play. Since I wasn't in on sabotaging Felix, I had no counter and I wasn't going to get into a he-said/he-said contest that would leave me looking petty. Poor Felix, he kept forgetting we worked for some really smart women. Around thirty women into Felix's counter-propaganda campaign, Daphne struck. She was confronted by a pro-Felix lady. "Really?" Daphne announced loudly. "Let's clear this up why don't we." She pulled out her phone, hit one number and said, "Please project that footage to the 'Runner' gym." Ten seconds later, Felix and my conversation was projected to every TV suspended around the room. Yes, even Felix's boast and getting in my face. This wasn't solely Daphne's doing. She didn't have that kind of weight. Oneida on the other hand; Felix barely missed a beat. "Nyilas, you pulled that all out of context," he growled. The best defense is a great offense. "Felix, I'm a guy. No way in Hell I have the kind of access to security tapes," I held up my hands, proclaiming my innocence. Felix missed the 'I'm a guy' part. The women didn't. Most of them know I skated the rules, but never broke them. Yes, Katrina liked me. Would she give me access to security? That was laughable. Felix was about to pack on the stupidity. "Fine, you had one of your cheerleaders do it," Felix counterthrust. Cheerleader was not a 'positive' Amazon role model. Cheerleaders were women who promised sexual reward to male warriors that defeated their enemies (a bit of a biased view). The bipolar normal world reaction to cheerleaders aside, I knew cheerleaders were athletes who worked hard to pull off relatively complex routines. Telling the Amazons this was pointless. If any woman in this room had known a cheerleader before surrendering their old existence to become lethal man-killers, they probably didn't like them. If they had been a cheerleader, they were keeping their mouths shut. "Are you implying we have lied and altered the official record of events?" Daphne sizzled. See, lying to me and Felix was expected. Lying to their fellow Amazons, despite the Blood Prestige rift, wasn't going to happen. Trust and loyalty were fundamental virtues here. I imagine Felix had read that passage in the Handbook. I hadn't believed it for the first two days either. I'd been educated since then. "I wouldn't put it past you," Felix glared right back at Daphne. Foolish; stupid. "Yasmin, I gotta go," I hissed to my Brazilian MILF then rushed to get to Felix. I wasn't doing it for Felix, the douche. I was doing it for Katrina and her New Directive. Felix had not officially fucked up; he was just being a jerk. Daphne sent Felix a wicked smirk. She'd kicked his ass. Felix knew his ass had been kicked yet still couldn't grasp the underlying principles behind his defeat; he was in a Woman's World. "Felix, let's warm up," I urged him once I was close enough to be heard. "After that stunt; you can go fuck yourself," Felix glowered. "Dude, it wasn't me, I swear," I met his gaze. "I'm here. You find your own space," Felix indicated another portion of the mat. "Felix, these ladies are about to kill you. You do not want to send me away," I whispered. Felix formed a rebuttal then looked around. "Why?" Felix whispered back. Felix was finally acknowledging he'd lost. Now he wanted to know why. "I can't explain it right now, but let's say 'cheerleader' was the wrong descriptive to use," I continued. "Calling them liars only dug the hole deeper. It is the way it is." Felix didn't understand my words, but understood the intent. He was in Oz without any knowledge of the tornado that had taken him there. We didn't spar together. I did stay close enough to make my intent clear; there would be no ambushing of Felix. You had to understand Amazon psychology to figure out why they weren't angry with me. I was exhibiting loyalty; especially to a person I hated. Amazons had blood feuds, the specifics I hadn't figured out. You could probably kick your opponent's ass. If you stabbed them in the back, there was no rock on the face of the Earth you could hide under. "He practices Muay, Thai, and Savate," Oneida snuck up on me. "I lend you my spirit," she added with deep compassion. I turned on her and placed my hand between her breasts. "No. No cheating in this fight," I insisted. That drew many stares. "Hold your spirit for the battles that matter, not for the resolution of male grievances. Your heart is fierce and I appreciate that, Oneida. No one's spirit is infinite, so marshal your resources carefully." Yes, I was lecturing Oneida; bad move. Yes, I was safeguarding her spirit, as would any of the other Amazons in the room; good move. Cloaking my lecture and concern in mystical terms; the win. "I care deeply for you too," Oneida gave me a demur look, "my Ash Man." Kill me. Kill me now. This culture didn't have a 'ready-set-go'. When one person was ready, they attack without warning. I almost forgot that and blind-sided Felix. I didn't hold back for him. I held back because I didn't want him to be a whiny baby about this whole thing. I gave him a nod, he nodded back then he attacked. Two piston kicks by Felix backed me up. He switched up with a reverse roundhouse. That was his mistake; I slipped inside his kick range. I came at him; left jab, left jab, and a right cross in such a rapid blur the audience later told me their brains didn't register the hits until after the fact. It was lights out for Felix. His body made a wet, thumping noise at it hit the mat. There was a hush. Everyone expected this fight to go the distance. I was more renowned for my stamina than punching power. Welcome to the world of light heavy-weight boxing. My problem with Madi had been I couldn't touch her. I hadn't even gone all out with Rhada and I dropped her with two jabs. A good number of 'martial artists' think of boxing as a primitive fighting form. It is. It has also been around forever because the principles are rather simple and effective. Either don't get hit, or soak up the hit (particularly for heavier fighters), set your opponent up and clobber then. Felix had meant to control me with his powerful kicks. Both Savate and Muay Thai have excellent fist and elbow blocks and strikes. It is simply difficult to switch your focus from kicking to blocking in the blink of an eye. That was less time than what I gave Felix. Most people think of boxers as freight trains, not snipers. In truth, we are both; locomotives approaching the speed of light (somewhat). Double back to all the options Savate and Maui Thai boxers have. They would never be afraid to take a risky kick because they can block in so many ways. Suddenly the issue became one of distance and balance. The boxer was at the kicker's ankle at the moment of supposed impact and closing. By the time the kicker realized the kick's over-extension the boxer was at his knee. The kicker still had a plethora of elbow, arm and hand blocks and grapples; except all his power has gone down that kicking leg, leaving him with on point of balance; his other leg. Sure he could get an arm up, but it only had the strength and weight of that limb to call upon. The upcoming hit? It had the mass times acceleration of the boxer's body coming at him. Good luck. Felix could have beaten me, except it would have taken time. Closing would have allowed him to use all those nifty elbow, palm and hand strikes. It would have also allowed me to do what boxers to best; box. This wouldn't give me an advantage, just leveled the playing field a bit. He didn't want to grapple. I had an entire school devoted to grappling while it was an addendum to what he did. Felix's saw me go to a boxing stance, and like most practitioners of Savate and Muay Thai, he laughed inside. He was going to make a mockery of me because my style sucked and his styles were the ones that best broke your enemies and caused them pain. He was going to knock me back with his kicks then close in and pummel me with every part of his body before I could slip into jujitsu. It would be lightning fast and bloody. Nice in theory; bad in practice. He should have worn me down with his stronger legs. Things fell apart when I stopped running away after the sec

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..