Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 12

The first Ishara open  House Challenge .

Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Odd Happenings

{8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time}

I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her   with OT (Oyuun T m rbaatar) at the Kazakhstan's UN mission. Her being my family was what mattered to them most. I picked her up on my way to work, which made my entrance into the lobby all that much more cataclysmic.

I was traveling light with only Wiesława Živa providing me with security. Chaz, Pamela and Juanita were catching up with their sleep, with a promise of taking me out for a late lunch. That was really them telling me to not leave JIKIT until they came for me around 2:00 pm.

So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil Ma Towers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in a part of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right? Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine young men from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in my life I was sure they had one   which no one talked about.

Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hana for me. Not the Ghost Tigers   that would have put me at ease. Sure, they were a gang of assassin and in this circumstance; I would have preferred them. As it was, ten sets of highly-trained Illuminati operative eyes kept me, my party and the four guardians of JIKIT in their overlapping fields of vision.

The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and 'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab.

"Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you here today?"

It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, were saying anything and they were normally so verbose.

"Sibeal."

"Imogen."

"Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," the other one said.

"Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to be dead," Mom bantered back.

"How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way.

"Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled. I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother was about to die' upside down aka ramped up my sexy, 'glad to see you in a totally incestuous way'.

"So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs with the rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'm happy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out of me and it was so well deserved.

"I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged her after Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible human being and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable.

"Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?' except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea.

No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby had heard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn't passing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept my hands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact.

"Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamela was going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me as well.

"I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded.

"Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down and figure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Come home with me," she suggested.

"No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we all know you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland.

"No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my own decisions. That being said   no, I'm not going home with you."

"Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, I have important work to do. People are counting on me."

"We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that is the other reason we came here. We need you."

"Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?"

"Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were a thousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior   they had murdered my homicidal uncle   and the fact they were as morally twisted as their creator. Oh   and they were hot and I hadn't been laid in forever.

"Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room to ensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a family chat," I offered.

"We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom.

"We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she is as much family to me as you both are."

They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, or something horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. The bodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all.

"What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared.

"Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying to figure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped.

"Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah, the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with. Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his genetic make-up meaning,

"Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?"

"Yes," Deidre replied to Mom.

"Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raised by Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over to her being a humanitarian of any kind.

"The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "You hate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa.

"So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat.

"Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making some concessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter how terrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None of that is going to happen. What do you need from me?"

"Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments," Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physical advantage, Mom stood as well.

"No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "You don't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn't mean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all the time. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me. Try again."

"We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested.

"How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was even worthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possible heir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barring you betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe."

"Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going to be a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the world that can double as his cousin."

"That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still sounds pretty terrible."

While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching. How in the fuck was   outside of the actual fucking   was Imogen pregnant? My existence was a freaking fluke of nature. A few words were bandied about the room while I was lost in deductive reasoning and turning hunches into assumptions and turning those into reasonable mystic hypotheses.

I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, the legacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdle after hurdle to keep the faith alive   that Vranus would meet his Ancestors with his mission accomplished. I was already half way there.

Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in their struggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore the mortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing me on to fulfill his last command   to save the Arinniti sons.

I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellow guardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of the whole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I could get gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite the toxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm an idiot.

When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Ishara had won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot was insisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alal received his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him dead because of a feud that stretched back over two millennia.

As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's genetically manipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on his own   heirs   grand-sons and  daughters, most who would also want to kill him, being Amazons and members of the 9 Clans after all. Why? Cause Goddesses are bitches, that's why.

That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meet Ishara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue for some snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. It wouldn't do any good, but I had to try.

"Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm.

"No reason," I lied.

"Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself next to me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likes her."

"No can-do," I sniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except there won't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomful of women to not beat me up and take my stuff."

"You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in   I had a chair behind me and Momma-clones all around.

"For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I have to go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing without telling me what the right thing to do is."

"That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest.

"Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the real fun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-free week. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well for myself.

{9:28 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}

I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of future Isharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my 'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind the Ishara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-up was their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the Amazon Host.

After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch, with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina (any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) and another to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmed bodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue.

The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of another one of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that Aunt Imogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested it would be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around for the visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest in keeping her alive.

"Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?"

"It is a date then," I stumped her.

"You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy's sizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions.

"Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01 am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out to wherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperative strategy."

"And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy.

"Ugh, I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy, Gay and Lesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave."

"And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile.

"I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finally find out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will not be an experience you will enjoy."

"I don't know. I think I'd like that."

"No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not be happy; I guarantee that, Buffy."

She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds, the 'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride.

"Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded my disappointment.

"Yes. Will you be there?"

"Of course," she grumped.

"Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends, 'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my apprentice.

"Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter two one bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More than anyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with my Isharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when events permit."

"But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish and care-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can't work with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara and nothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Your choice."

"Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped.

"Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan out some personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you still decided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now, with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming. The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me.

"I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have to deal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations with Executive Services."

"Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working for Katrina full time?"

"Really?" she whispered.

"Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for the job because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I picked you because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whatever is necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestors have dumped in our lap."

"I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive cunt and remember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," I rumbled.

"I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed.

"Nice to know. We on for Monday night?"

Pause.

"Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again. "Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, then hung up again.

"So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace to break out, or Nuclear War?"

"Hardy-har-har," I griped.

"Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have something for you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard of Kōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as 'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan."

"Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for the Ninja?"

"That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Of critical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gave earlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time ~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement.

"He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That is old news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation of the original Genghis Khan and, with him, Ryuho, as the unifier of theological forces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usher in a new period of Peace throughout Asia."

"I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled.

"He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, both spiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanese purity, the 6 Ninja Families, are at war with the depth of all Evil, the Chinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name, who are determined to drag all of Asia away from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery.

"In fact I quote: 'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only the Japanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only the Japanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese can guide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious, a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came out of my mouth.

"Correct."

"None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin's background is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him a reincarnated spirit, and they know the truth," I continued.

"This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims to channel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him as the Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare, which is yet another name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims to consult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mystic defense, with the aid of the Five Sacred Sisters' Spirits."

Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong,

"Ah Hell," I muttered.

Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was my position on the team.

"He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "He isn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave."

"I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "How bad is it?"

"The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who died in order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&S and Amazons to 'save' Japan, though it is not 'saved' yet."

"Technically, the Weave IS the Supreme Being. It's largely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response to outside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be able to see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key players screwing with that destiny.

"That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their own brand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others have been attempting."

"How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered.

"Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of a magic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom)."

"The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghost the 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped and tortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. I countered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave.

"All four people the augurs, those Five Sisters, told me about had been dead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't kill anyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products of disruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet another disruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from five thousand years ago.

"Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't be dead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war? Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger for World Domination, if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption will still carry on.

"Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet we are all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group. I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. Lady Yum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more.

"You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity.

"I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've been the conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man. Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of my undead Grandfather floating around in my head?"

"I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out my ass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless."

"So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., our sovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired.

"Hmm, we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who could be turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and a thumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room. They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I was curious, but had to carry on with my train of thought.

"Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies, preferably low-key, quiet types who avoid the limelight, and start looking into other forms of magical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let this happen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with this guy and get a feel for his personality."

"That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addison protested.

"The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis. People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to get ahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give him the whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Even worse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched."

"Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick, their Weave sensitivity, ya know, and either kidnap him to be their own spiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yet another person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has the added benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get at him. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get.

"Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lest they kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or the E&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceived enemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity."

"I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board as well. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (And with the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) The three 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of our discussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a few insanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset.

"Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart (Yum-Yum).

"The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a Constitutional Amendment to repeal/revise Article 96 of the Japanese Constitution."

"Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyone in the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.

'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knew about the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew both what Article 96 was and what its amendment really meant. Good-old 96 was the rolling dark cloud across the political Great Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and their arrival could mean anything.

Article 96 dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended. The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the 'Upper House', roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House of Representatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. The proposed amendment to Article 96 would transform the process to a mere majority vote in both Houses.

Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried to pull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house (a clear majority) and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House (7 seats short of a majority). If the amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP could pretty much do as they pleased.

And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put to rest another part of the Constitution, namely the far more globally important Article 9. And what was that?

Real World Stuff: Warnings

Article 9:

(1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.

(2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.

If Article 9 was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercise diplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreign power. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion a year (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1% of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economies all functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget.

Regionally, every other nation was increasing their military expenditures, except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending on anything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate's military expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but this was an arm's race the PRC would eventually win, they had too great an advantage in the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base.

The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long, grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wrecked their country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly against them because the Khanate wasn't alone.

India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combined tune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional $90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billion to their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both pay for their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of their other forces.

All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and global economies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for the Khanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' was possibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else.

They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while the future of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the military budget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It would also put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations.

With the repeal of Article 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means' to keep the naval supply routes to China open, not even the Indian's had the naval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendly gesture to the Asian Colossus, who wasn't likely to show a shred of appreciation for their efforts.

No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of the Rising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred was based on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decade between 1937 to 1945).

(The Cornerstone) There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese, Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be one supreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed the logical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910), beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to war with China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war.

To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple the Japanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asian natural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors into a futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China and lost.

With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, China had risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population, natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japan couldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government had lived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way.

The US felt the same way, or they had. The fear produced by the broad acceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, the half-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and the Vietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until the Soviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.

A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm, couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking, until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, one that turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominion of Asia was up for grabs once more.

Japan could not overcome China; that was a given. The Dragon had more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Given a decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny of numbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable.

India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry. Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam had neither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less been successful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had a host of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributed as much as Putin dared.

Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained in the hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way those rulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there was no industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threaten the People's Republic of China.

Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, the Communist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. No other nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitution bound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternal pacifism.

The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well have been in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazil was the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a Permanent Seat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desire as it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power.

Japan? Ha.

Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except the Ninja and JIKIT) coup d' tat, pacifism was sacrificed on the Altar of Nationalism. Article 96's demise was pre-ordained. A poll taken on July 1st, 42% of Japanese felt positively about the repeal of Article 96 while 46% opposed it.

The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-political situation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism moved you toward devout pacifist, the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearly withdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground.

If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more people at your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerly fringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was in the process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's) business interests in China, for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so they said.

That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking to blame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been working alongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrong and had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their 'comrades' in China, their Marxist confederates, who were costing the hard-working Japanese workers their jobs.

If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you. Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade. Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and, worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escape the obvious oncoming national catastrophe.

The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon, if they were lucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining all the key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as a viable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in the Developing World, worse was heading your way.

The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websites wasn't 'recession', it was depression. Global prosperity thrived on nations investing in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. The governments representing a third of the World's population were not investing in their economies.

Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on the shelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; your expenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with a secured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interest rate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy was stable.

If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn't compete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with other Developing World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of those consumers in the G-20, which was a shrinking purse.

It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now those once poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed your government to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise money by taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And the rich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoiding paying.

Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for getting their countries through these rough stretches.

The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economic outlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.'

The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war: 'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.'

The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, the Central Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack of transparency, we'll call you back.'

World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet, we will do what we can.'

F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. They talked with another, far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the inner workings of various world governments, and creatively interpreting events surrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts major with a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent Intelligence Analyst!}

The Japanese government had appealed to the U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N., India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:

The U.S.A: We are working on it (without letting them know what precisely they were working on)

Japan: Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to be more useful as wallpaper.

The U.N.: We are working on it (with their long-established tradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed)

Japan: You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from the First Committee to the Fourth Committee, gee, thanks guys. Will they be meeting sometime before Christmas?

The PRC: We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanes open, and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorial waters?

Japan: What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of our biggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and, No! That was not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd.

(Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}), The PRC has made this outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around their territorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor, right?

Kawano: Which time?

Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?

Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.

Prime Minister: What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of the damn government and, you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to the Chinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can come back to screw us over?

Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not very likely, Prime Minister.

Prime Minister: Oh, very good. You are correct, I don't want to know what you 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts and recordings of this conversation.

Kawano: It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you, Prime Minister. Sayōnara.

ASEAN, What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen the unimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you see the smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet?

Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks against the Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipino waters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you are truly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.

Japan, {muttering} Investigating the attacks that came from your territory, bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!

(Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Shotaro Yachi, Japanese National Security Advisor), I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate has forces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to know anything about it?

Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.

Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.

Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.

Awbee What does that mean, and since when have you been creating and implementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehow over-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?

Yachi: No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of the Kinkyū tokushu sakusen tasukufōsu (Emergency Special Operations Task Force). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since we need to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada (of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up the majority of the task force's operatives.

Awbee: What have you been doing?

Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things, awkward.

Awbee: 'You don't want to know', of course, I don't. I'm only the elected head of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionage and war my deputies are executing?

Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?

Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?

Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?

Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?

Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.

AS: What!

Yachi: Sir, I would hardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine the intentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessary communications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact?

AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?

Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir.

Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?

Yachi: Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiled two enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remain vigilant.

AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?

Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.

Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.

Yachi: Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night.

India, Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability. Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it. Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then, the South China Sea Awaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there is going to be further instability in Southeast Asia.

Japan, Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking South China Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why are you doing this to us? What have we ever done to you?

The Khanate, We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize, but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. It is them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to your request to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the South China Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time, to make up for those two invasion attempts seven hundred years ago.

(Note from  Prime Minister to Self) Great. The only reasonable people who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can't acknowledge talking to. I've got to do something about this, right after I delete this message.

Back to the fictional world stuff:

"Is Japan really going to ally with the Khanate?" I looked at Rikki. She was our East Asian expert.

"We are making things contingent on the South Koreans being mollified. They have their own bad history with Japan. A war-like Japan will have them on edge. Do you think your 'Brother' can offer up something the South Koreans would appreciate?" she tossed the grenade back in my lap.

That was my cue to contact Iskender. We agreed to meet someplace innocuous. On the way to the meeting, I received a cryptic call from Katrina. She needed me back at Havenstone ASAP. No details, well, no surprise there.

I dumped everything we had in Iskender's lap. He was smiling like a monkey who had just discovered a banana plantation.

"What's up?" I cautiously inquired.

"Nothing. Xanzada (Prince ~ he only called me 'Ulı Khaan s yikti ağası' during formal occasions) Cáel, my life has never been more purposeful. Working with you has been one notable deed after the next. The Great Khan knows my name. My family is already profiting from our relationship. By the simple act of you reaching out to me at your father's funeral, my life has been transformed."

"So, you've basically lost your mind," I commented.

"I agree. I will deliver your communications at once and convey any response if necessary. I haven't heard of the Great Khan rejecting your advice once. I am having the time of my life," he declared.

"One of your brothers is marrying up, isn't he?" I pierced through the murk.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Call it a hunch. How much?"

"My youngest brother, currently in service, is marrying a daughter of the  gedei-line. This is a huge honor and was clearly made as a rewarding gesture to our personal relationship."

"Congrats. Can I send the happy couple a gift? When is the wedding?"

"Anything from you would be treasured," Iskender kept grinning. "They will be married in January, no specific date yet. My brother needs to return to his unit before the war resumes."

"I'll check my madcap schedule and see if I can wrangle for me and Hana attending," I offered. My loyal Iskender's eyes glowed. I owed him big. I owed a good number of people and I was happy getting around to paying some of them back. Good news in hand, I raced back to JIKIT. They were readying the information, (plus my positive vibes), for distribution to our supporting agencies and societies.

Javiera was in the room Rikki, Beatrice and Yum-Yum had vacated, already briefing Senator Collins on the latest developments. The United States  NSA (Mehmet), Britain's MI-6 (Delilah) and the Sti rth ireacht na Faisn ise (Irish Directorate of Military Intelligence aka G-2) (because of me and the Illuminati) were getting a more in-depth analysis of current events.

To brighten up what was already turning out to be a stressful day, Lady Yum-Yum reminded me the little-appreciated and highly under-funded G-2 had micro-orgasms every time we sent them these 'For Your Eyes Only' data packets.

Now they could look all those 'high and mighty' NATO intelligence agencies with their half-billion   budgets straight in the eyes and think 'we know something you don't know, but we can't tell you because, oh yeah, something you are always bludgeoning us with, compelling national interests you smug Bastards'.

The Conversation, from an Irish point-of-view:

Snickering, "Sorry you 'pompous-as-fuck' Head of the DGSE (France's General Directorate for External Security), what was that you wanted?

"Every bit of information we have about the goings-on in Asia?

"You mean all that super-secret, nearly impossible-to-obtain intelligence?

"Of course we have it. We have one of our 'elite' intelligence officers inside JIKIT. Don't you? Pity.

"Sure we trust you, just as much as you have trusted us over the past fifty years.

"No, we are not holding on to a petty grudge. We are sure when you called us 'a bunch of drunken imbeciles on tricycles with training wheels' you meant it in the best possible way. Besides, you called us that way back when, oh yeah, last Bastille Day, months and months ago."

"Absolutely, if the Khanate is about to drop a Tunguska-size dump on your 'National Interests' we'll let you know, right after it has been handed to us by the most meticulously accurate sources imaginable, which we will clarify and verify by accessing our up-to-the-second updates, and then have finished analyzing it after we tricycle our drunken asses back from the pub where we will be tossing back a few Guinness thanking the Almighty for loving us and hating you." (Snicker)

The Last Eleven

{11:50 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}

"So Katrina, what is so important," I bit down on my yawn. Before me stood eight people; four of those frightful chicks from SD plus Elsa and Katrina, who was being guarded by a woman I didn't know. None of that mattered. Who mattered was,

"Hello, Eruthros," I regarded the red-haired Mycenaean warrior. "I think I recognize those coffle chains."

Yeah, standing between two of 'said' SD Amazons was a relentless foe whose life had intersected mine now four times and we had somehow avoided killing each other. He was nearly-naked, in a chain getup that connected with a neck collar, wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and a waist chain. His boxers were clearly not his own. I imagine all of that came with an anal and oral checkups, which ended up covering the same territory.

"Why is he here, like this?" I looked to Elsa.

"He showed up at the front desk, identified himself, requested a parley and asked to speak to you. We took him down and made absolutely sure he was completely unarmed," she answered.

"He insists he talk to you before we kill him," Elsa spoke with the certainty of the grave. "Only Katrina's curiosity has staid our hand."

Eruthros was about to say something. I held up my hand to forestall him.

"What I meant to convey was 'why has he been treated this way?' Unchain him and give him back his clothes and weapons," I commanded. Why? Because I could, damn it!

"That is not your order to give," Elsa shook her head slightly.

"Au contre," I stared at her. "He is a representative of a faction we are at war with, has clearly come here to parley and since I am the Chief Diplomat of the Host, the only recommendation to the Council that matters concerning his treatment is mine to give, not yours."

"He is a foresworn enemy of our People," Katrina studied me. "His death is guaranteed. This is my judgement in my capacity as 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death." She was playing with me.

"You overstep your authority," I challenged her, because she wanted me to.

"He is neither an Amazon, a traitor to the Host, nor an enemy we need to ferret out, he is standing right in front of us. He has come here in good faith, thus dealing with him is my job, not yours. You may question him if you wish, but his fate and comfort is mine to decide."

"No." Katrina.

"Nice to know, don't care, Elsa, I am ordering you to release him because otherwise sharing a meal with him will be rather problematic."

"Cáel Nyilas Wakko-Ishara, this will not happen."

"Cool beans." I looked to one of the other SD ladies. I recalled her name being Nairi. "Nairi, unchain him." Her eyes narrowed then she shot a quick look to the side of Elsa's head. Elsa's eyes were locked on me.

"Shall I rephrase, Nairi, will you obey the lawful order of a member of Council and official of the Amazon Host, or are you going to hand me a lock of your hair before you, well, you've been forbidden to take yourself to the cliffs so I imagine said action would make you a Runner. Care to try out for Saku's unit? I hear she's only taking the baddest of the bad."

That wasn't going to happen. Neither Elsa nor Katrina would let it go that far.

"Better face such an end than betray my people by unleashing this monster," she ground out. I was so proud of her, that selfless fanaticism.

"Oh, thank Ishara," I nearly buckled over. "Nairi, I don't want you to suffer that 'end' either, but I'm glad you've acknowledged my authority to place that dilemma before you."

"You tricked me," she seemed confused, then angry.

"Well, I sure as Hell can't beat you up, so yeah, I tricked you and everyone in this room who isn't Katrina. Sorry Elsa."

"108 hours, Bitch," was Elsa's response.

That was right. Monday at 5:00 pm I 'graduated', ending my internship thus allowing me to date freely within Havenstone. I was still going to forgo any such liaisons except with Buffy, and, if I could sneak it in, with Rhada and Oneida. Tuesday morning I would trundle myself off to wherever Felix was training. The next Friday, the Great Hunt began. Had so much time really passed?

"We seem to be at an impasse," Katrina smirked.

"Hey, is this new chick Epona House Guard?" I was putting things together. How do you depict a nearly-naked, TSA-nightmare victim, shackled Enemy of the People to be even tougher than he already was? Insist that the normal bad-asses at the SD 'might' not be enough for the task, of killing Eruthros.

"Reanna of Epona," Katrina made the introductions, "meet the most obtuse male you most likely will ever be confronted with."

"So, is no one going to free Eruthros, or am I going to have to summon my legion of hunch-backed henchwomen? Or Pamela? Pamela can probably pick those locks in no time."

"This is not a joking matter," Elsa refocused on the issue at hand.

"Good enough," I nodded. I stepped up, grabbed Eruthros's waist chain and twisted him around. "Don't move." Then I pulled out my gun and aimed it at the closest wrist cuff. I had to move him to make sure no one else was in line with my bullet's projected path. That they could have protested.

"I will kill him before you pull the trigger," Elsa reminded me.

"Good point, all of you who aren't with House Epona, or my guest, leave. You are no longer welcome, or all that helpful."

"Cáel, before this goes any further," Katrina intervened. "Why don't you tell us why you want to free him."

"The Host are not barbarians. We are neither noble, by any other standard than our own, nor do we forego inflicting cruelty on our enemies, we welcome it. What we are not is 'false-faced rapist who invite others to share our cups, or a request to parley, so we can enslave, or slaughter them'. We are not those people and I would rather die honoring my ancestor (the first Ishara) than let us behave so. We should know better."

"He is one of those men who did that to us," Nairi seethed.

"Precisely," I agreed. "Knowing that, he placed his life into our hands. For us, it is ancient history seared into our souls. For Eruthros it played out a few months ago. The fact we became worse than him stands before you now, in me."

"No," Elsa denied me.

"There are too many playmates of three young boys to count whose descendants are no longer around to argue with you. You slaughtered them, your own sons, in one night," I hardened. "Now tell me the butchery of your own bloodlines, your own flesh and blood, wasn't an even greater atrocity."

I could see the defense of their actions written all over their faces, the SD and Reanna. The 'sons' were males and still, in too many of their eyes, unworthy.

"You didn't butcher young boys that night. You murdered every daughter those men would ever have. How lonely we have become because those daughters never had daughters of their own, because we lost our souls?"

Oh, that hadn't occurred to them, though it was painfully obvious to me.

"That's right. That night we killed half the Amazons who would have lived in the past 2,500 years. Today, that stops. It stops here, with you and me with this ancient foe. Now, free him because I say so, because I am right and all of you know it. Stop pretending you even have a choice."

"Ishara," Elsa murmured at me. She wasn't talking to me. She was honoring my ancestor and my goddess, the Peacemakers. Elsa stepped to up to Eruthros, brandished a key and began undoing his manacles. "Get his belongings," she directed to a random Security Detail member. Off she went.

"That was a bit tight," Eruthros finally spoke as he rubbed his wrists. I didn't think he was talking about the chains.

"Give me a sec," I grinned at him. "Katrina, could you please arrange for me and our guest to have something to eat and drink delivered to this office while we discuss the reason for his visit?" Now I was being very polite. Katrina deserved that and more.

Katrina picked up her phone and forwarded the request. Tea and crab cakes was the meal of convenience.

"Eruthros, before we get down to the nitty-gritty of our family relations, reminiscing over friends we miss and honoring fallen foes, why don't you tell me why you are here?"

"We would like to bury Ajax," he bowed his head, a warrior beseeching an enemy-prince.

"Okay," I told 'Red'. He appeared to be retaining some doubts. "I've been doing various people a shitload of favors. They owe me. Getting one dead guy out of a morgue won't be a problem."

"Really?" he seemed shocked.

This was a desperation mission spurned on by oaths of loyalty from a liegeman to his king, not something most modern people would understand. If nothing else, they would ask something for the service. 3,000 years ago, that wasn't how it worked. Even in death, Ajax belonged to his people. To deny that was a malignant insult.

Leave no man behind,? Was that the Rangers, or the Marines? I'd have to ask Chaz. Would those modern elites understand Eruthros' plea? Or had the Massacre of the Amazons at the Seven Skulls removed them from such dignified company? They weren't here, I was.

"Cáel, this is not an activity I can expend Havenstone assets on. Unlike that other matter, retrieving Ajax's body for burial is not Amazon business," Katrina announced. She had to keep up the pretense of her disapproval. That other matter, I needed to deal with that too.

"That's fine. I don't need Executive Services for this mission. I've got it covered."

"Exactly what resources do you imagine you have?" Elsa cocked an eyebrow. Normally she was smarter than this. Or maybe she was teasing me too.

"I figure four ninja to do the task and three Black Hand to provide support. We might not even need to smuggle the body out of Europe," I enlightened the room. "I've been standing up for the 9 Clans side since Day One. As I said, they owe me."

Elsa bowed to my creative criminality.

"And his armor and weapons," Eruthros added.

"And his armor and weapons," I repeated.

"Retrieving the body is one thing," Katrina schooled me. "Virtually no one breaks into a morgue, even a Federal Police one. They would store his personal belongings in a far more secure location. Finding his personal weaponry will be even more difficult."

"If we cannot find them, I will give you my two axes which I bore when I witnessed his passing," I offered Eruthros.

"Thank you," he clasped my hand. Tears began edging down his cheeks. Those old Greeks, and just about everyone else in those days, openly cried, exchanged crude jokes and laughed no matter how bizarre the situation. Showing emotion was what men did. They relished life because theirs could be so brutish and short.

"Where are you going to bury him?" I inquired. I was feeling a bit sniffley myself. Charlotte had paid the price so I could be here, talking to him, today.

"Salamis, among his kinsfolk," Eruthros responded.

"I would like to attend if I may."

"You would be welcome," he brightened up.

In a way, I could be seen as honoring a man I came to personally fear and despise. Ajax was a pig, a beast. Not of all his men had been and I was doing this for them. Honoring the dead meant so much more to those who survived. Having buried my Father, I knew that to be true.

"What's next for you and yours?" I changed the subject.

"We aren't sure. The Condottieri have abandoned the few of us who remain. I imagine one day Teucer will come to you to settle accounts. For the rest of us,"

"Want a job?"

"We would never work for the Amazons," he shook his head.

"Not the person I am thinking about at all. How would you like to go work for the Great Khan? He is going to need the hardest stone-cold killers with testicles in the Northern Hemisphere."

"Why would he accept us?"

"He is my spiritual-brother," I informed him. "If I tell him you and the others can shift the outcome of any fight, he will take you in."

"We are neither mercenaries nor willing to work for you," Eruthros looked down.

"I will pay in the currency that matters," I put my hand on his shoulder. "I will relate to you and yours the last moments in the life of Ajax the Unconquered."

"When?"

"At the funeral, but I will have an extra request for you."

"What is it?"

"I will not live forever. I wish you to forgive the family of his assassin. When you bury Ajax, you will bury that anger. Let one more death settle the matter."

"That, that I think I can convince the others to do. You would not ask for your own life?"

"I deserve much of the hate showered down on my life. I wish my children, all our children, to grow up in a better world."

"Who is Ishara?"

"She is the Goddess of many things. Most importantly to me, Dot-Ishara is the Goddess of Oaths. She binds our promises in blood and punishes the false-hearted and the oath-breakers. Serving her is always painful, but far too often worthwhile."

"Children," Eruthros mused. "I had not considered such a thing. Vengeance has consumed our thoughts."

"The truly great warriors go home," I adlibbed, "raise children and lie to them about their experiences while passing on those heart-rending lessons that carried them so far."

"Endless war makes no sense to me. Conflict always has a way of finding us, be we unready, prepared, fresh, or tired. Best we prepare the next generation who will have to face those challenges, make something good out of all the death and pain."

"Give you a few more years and you will be an Epic warrior, Cáel Nyilas Wakko Ishara," he put his hand on my shoulder to mirror mine.

"Hey now," I faux-protested. "What did I ever do to deserve that?"

"When the Great Achilles died, there was no one worthy of picking up his sword. We Greeks, we Mycenaeans, were swept away. What became of our sons and daughters? Where are the songs sung in their honor? Did we expend our very best for an insignificant town on a hill? Did we?"

"Not all the Mycenaeans are dead, Eruthros," I pointed out.

"The Amazons, when I knew them, they were like you; fearlessly happy and brave. They would be proud, I guess you being a man, I can't say they would be proud of you, but I would like to think they would sing paeans around your funeral pyre."

Not a single Amazon in the room commented on his memories. He knew their ancestors and they didn't. He also had had a hand in stilling that joy and freely-embraced fierceness. Whatever they had once been so long ago, the Greeks had stolen all the good away and left the hate, pain and sense of betrayal that had carried my Amazons through the millennia.

"I have a daughter. Her name is Aya and her playful laughter can still steal the crushing weight of storm-waves as tall as a city wall, her tiny strength overcomes the winds of a hurricane through her relentless determination, and her compassionate smile picks you up when pain and exhaustion would otherwise unman you. She is absolutely wonderful and I would like you to meet her someday, when all of this (the bloodletting) is behind us."

"I would like that," he grinned.

"Did he just promise to show your niece to this monster?" Reanna didn't whisper softly enough for me not to here, most likely on purpose.

"He is her 'Atta', so he is well within his rights to make that request of Caitlyn."

"But you are the House Head," Reanna protested.

"I trust Cáel with Aya's life. Absolutely. I have before and I would do so again," Katrina's eyes played over my countenance. Yeah, she had let Aya be kidnapped along with me, thus putting her in the hands of the Seven Pillars. Her trust had cost Aya two digits from her ring finger, a mark she would bear her entire life. "Making the request to Caitlyn is a mere formality. She shares my faith in him."

I had to think about that, and other things.

"No," Katrina shook her head in the negative. "You may not sleep with Reanna. Buffy would find out and beat the crap out of her. I need them both."

"Did you just pull a 'Pamela' on me?" I scowled. Reanna was still getting over the 'I would never sleep with him' and the 'why won't you let me sleep with him?'

"You are aroused and Reanna has been sucking up your man-candy anima since you walked into the room, no psychic powers required," she corrected me.

"Does this happen to you often?" Eruthros regarded me with renewed respect.

"Yes," Elsa answered for me.

"What she said," I smirked.

The rest was simple and more than a bit archaic and manly. Eruthros' panoply was returned, he dressed and then we ate, sitting on the floor of Katrina's office while the normal ES business was carried on around us. We both set our weapons aside as we shared our meal. He told me a dozen things a hundred historians devoted to the Bronze-Age Greeks would have personally torn the right testicles off their closest colleague for.

He was literate, knew some Old Kingdom Hittite, Minoan and Scythian and enough Egyptian to recognize it when I spoke a few words. Having lived inside a citadel (and not out in the fields with the peons), he knew how those old alliances, bonds, ties of kinship and other loyalties really worked.

I repaid those insights by educating him on modern dating practices and why you wanted women who were lethally competent as well as hot-looking and hellcats beneath sheets. After all, he and his tiny band of friends had their own martial societal traditions to pass down. By the time he departed, I had planted the seeds of a future beyond Ajax in his mind.

I hoped he would share my thoughts, hopes and dreams for the Mycenaeans with his ten surviving brethren. Five were in prison and not likely to ever get out, without outside help? The Khanate perhaps? The others: Red and one other had made their escape from Romania. Teucer and three others had been wounded before the final encounter at the Seven Skulls.

An hour later, I walked him out of the building. He took a taxi to somewhere that wasn't here. As his car faded into the noontime mass of New York traffic, Wiesława finally spoke.

"What is Buffy going to do when she finds out what foolish risks you took today and plan to do in the near future?"

"Pat me on the back and tell me to keep up the good work?" I tried to sound up beat. Lucky for me, I had a few fortune cookies in my pocket because that pigeon must have been a half-kilometer up when he decided to do his best imitation of a Peregrine Falcon. It probably didn't penetrate his little bird-brain that he had nothing approaching the aerodynamic qualities that would allow him to pull up in time.

Ishara:

"Man, that is going to leave a mark," I mumbled. A nice comfy lap-pillow eased the pain in my noggin. "Did you have to sacrifice that winged-rat?"

"Don't give me that," my Goddess scolded me. "I wasn't the one who sat calmly in a room with one of the perpetrators of the most grievous crimes ever committed against my people, comforting him in his time of suffering."

"Unleash a damn Al  on him," I suggested. Those were vengeance demons of the Near East during Ishara's time.

"Those are Sumerian."

"I seem to recall you working with a Sumerian goddess recently," I countered.

"Are you angry about Tadifi?"

"Why do you even ask?" I groaned. My head was really going to hurt when I woke up. "I am (angry), you are cruel and it is your nature to use us mortals for your own purposes. I imagine whatever good you do for mankind is accidental."

"No," she brushed her fingernails along my forehead. "If we could leave you to your devices, we divinities would. Life is not that simple. There are forces at work that would destroy the Weave and collapse all reality. By nurturing the good, we secure your future and our own."

"Illuyankamunus, demons, black necromancers?"

"Yes. As I have told you before,"

"There is no 'one' destiny. I imagine, ignorant of the outcome, you worry that humanity might not work it out quite right," I sighed.

"Please, do not despair," she took a handful of hair and dragged it over my upturned hand, caressing my fingertips, which felt really, really good. "I appreciate all you have done for me on your own initiative. I am not so jaded that I am inured to human suffering, yours especially."

"My sweet Cáel, I share your tears. I do not wish things to have turned out as they have. As the current of the future changes, I must change or succumb to it. If this helps, had you run away from Havenstone that first Tuesday, I would have protected you," she swore.

"Because I was the last scion of Vranus likely to perpetuate the next generation," I pierced her self-deception. "Don't bother telling me otherwise. I think I know the real reason I asked you to remove the ability for you and the other divinities to read my mind."

"You think it is a female power-fantasy," she reminded me. After all, that had been the last thought she had stolen from my privacy. I had been thinking that, yet now I began to see it in another light. It was my finely-honed, dearly paid for, instincts about the female psyche.

It was probably a combination of Ishara's first words to me today and Anais that opened my eyes to a greater truth. Women neither forgive nor forget. Not really.

"Like Eruthros, that night of rape for you was yesterday, not three thousand years ago," I unveiled my reasoning. "Vranus aside, you have never forgiven male-kind. As much as I feel you have true affection for me, I'm still a guy."

"No," she tried to smooth my troubled mind.

"You can't let Eruthros go in peace, even when it is the well-reasoned choice of your lone descendent, breathing one, anyway. What Eruthros and his friend did was heinously wrong. 'Me', any of us, turning on him when he showed up in good faith would have been the final surrender to the Mycenaeans of our own sense of right and wrong."

"Three thousand years ago, before the First Betrayal, we would have never considered butchering him outright though we could refuse him. Likewise, his offer was genuine and his request just. What need does the Host have of Ajax's corpse? What does it profit us to humiliate his followers? Do we really need to kill those final eleven? Teucer will come seeking vengeance in time, but now he won't do so as a sniper."

"I have taken away their outrage as an excuse for his actions. If he kills me from afar, he has surrendered his honor to me and we both know he will not do that. I am an honorable foe. As a Prince of my People, that honor permeates the Host. When Teucer comes for me it will be face to face. He will have to stare me straight in the eyes and I will kill him."

"I, I apologize," Ishara wept. "Poor Vranus. He wasn't very clever, but he was unswervingly loyal. I was wrong to think so poorly of him and discount his honest courage and love for his family. I confess, I never treated his worship, or the worship of his father and grandfather as being truly equal to that of his mothers and sisters."

"You will stand by me and my decision about Eruthros?" I shuddered. I'd been unconscious for a bit of time.

"Yes. Yes I will, my lovely Cáel," a tear escaped her cheek and landed on mine. It felt weird, a combination of coolness and a tickling level of electricity.

"Why am I here? I assume you have something to impart and weren't simply out to kill that poor pigeon with me as a witness," I chuckled.

"Ah, It would be so much easier if I could touch your mind," she hinted, poorly.

"Not happening, please let SzelAnya know I need to talk to her soon, I'm starting to feel stiff."

"I, perhaps, had that pigeon hit you, a bit too hard. You were concussed for quite some time. Added to that, we have chatted about other matters for over a minute," she chastised me because all this talking was totally my fault.

"Why do you, you remain very clever, MY Cáel." Her possessiveness didn't bother me. She was my guardian Goddess after all and would one day protect my children with equal devotion. If my fucked up life was any indicator, they'd need the help. She would let me talk to SzelAnya because I undoubtedly had a reason to do so, even if she didn't approve, of either my idea, or me being with a rival goddess.

"Think of Aya," she urgently imparted. "Think of Aya and know she deserves to grow up to be an Amazon just like you. Give her the freedom to do so. Where there is Valor, there is Hope. Greatness should be measured by the lives you save, not those you take. When the time,"

I felt her kiss upon my nose, then the pain kicked back in fulltime. I also realized my fortune cookies were gone (she'd stolen all three of them, Goddess-damn it!) I had to get some more before my next 'philosophic' session threatened my skull's integrity, tempting it to surrender to months of continuing abuse.

Lassies, and not in a good way.

'Ow, ow, ow, ow' kept bouncing around my head.

"He's waking up," Wiesława softly informed someone. I opened my eyes. They had dragged me back into Havenstone's lobby, cradled me as they brought me up to Medical, then hung around, in case I died and the SD wanted to talk to them. I was admittedly curious if the 'a pigeon did it' would mollify Elsa.

"Did I kill it?" I muttered as they put me down, feet first. I wobbled. Concussions do that to a guy.

"Who? I didn't see anyone attack you?" Wiesława looked concerned.

"The pigeon? The one who hit me. Is it dead?" I groaned.

"Oh, yes, Cáel Ishara. It will no longer menace any of our sisters. Your thick skull did it in," she joked. That eased the feelings of the security chicks around me. Unlike the medicos, they weren't privileged to know my Matron Goddess's preferred means of communication, bludgeoning me into unconsciousness.

"How long have I been out?" I mumbled. My cranium was throbbing in pain as I sat up. 'Hey! I was in Medical and still had my clothes on. Was I losing my touch?'

"It is 1:15, Wakko," Wiesława informed me. I groaned as my feet swung off the gurney.

"I have to play Barabbas in the mouth of a whale converted into a lion's den in 45 minutes and I need a few things from home," I mumbled. I would have assumed a commanding demeanor, except my inner ear was debating calling in sick for the rest of the day.

"So, what did she have to say?" Pamela stepped into view. It was hard to describe my pride and my joy when I saw Chaz right behind her, fully armed, inside Havenstone with his scrotum still doing what natured designed it for.

"The Bitch stole two extra cookies," I gripped. "As for the rest, chastisement for thinking my opinion mattered, me telling her to back the fuck up, we are not married yet, then the normal bit of useless information that I'm sure will make sense, somewhere around the third 5th of Whiskey."

"Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to rain on my parade until 2?"

"Not sure, Chaz?" Pamela.

"Nothing special, Mr. Nyilas," Chaz glowered. Uh oh. Mr. Nyilas. Not good.

"We figured we'd join your regular lunch crowd," Pamela nudged Chaz giving him a physical 'atta boy.

"Buffy gave us a message," Chaz retained his 'I'm your older brother and since Dad isn't around to kick your ass over doing something stupid, I'm doing it for him' look. I had to admit, that look was pretty new to me. Most men didn't want to be remotely associated with me genetically after getting to know me and my fidelity, or lack thereof.

"Hey now," I protested as I wove my way out the door to the elevator.

 To be continued.

By FinalStand for Literotica.