The Weapon - Genesis - part 2
By Diana the Valkyrie
Ahriman and Mazda


Over their curries, Duncan asked her again. "What is it, how did you do that?"
"Later, Duncan. Can we talk about World War Two for a bit?" "Huh?"
"Specifically, the second half of 1941. The main antagonists then were Germany
and Russia. Hitler and Stalin. Which of them was good and which was bad?"
"Well, they were both a bad lot. Probably Hitler was worse, and we were at war
with Germany at the time." "OK, so we can agree that the Hitlerites were bad.
What about the Stalin lot?" "They were pretty awful too. Maybe a bit less bad.
Not really that much to choose between them, if you know what had been
happening in Russia in the 1930s" "So, given the choice between fighting on
Germany's side, Russia's side, or being neutral, which would you choose?"
"Neutral, I think. But that wasn't an option. We were already at war." "But
consider Sweden, or Switzerland." "They were two relatively small countries,
no big army. If they'd gone either way, they'd have stood a good chance of
being flattened." "So they were right to stay neutral?" "Well, from their
point of view, I think so. But not from the point of view of the Axis or the
Allies." "OK, so they want to stay neutral. How do they achieve that?" Duncan
thought a bit. "Well, consider Switzerland. Not much natural resources,
mountainous country, invading would be difficult and a bit bloody, and you
wind up with a bunch of cuckoo clocks. It just isn't worth it." She nodded.
"But what if Switzerland had no army at all, no means of defence?" "Then
they'd have been invaded by Germany, I guess, if it's easy then you might as
well take them out." "Yes," she said, "that's my feeling too. If it hadn't
been for the Swiss Army, even though it was small, they would probably have
been invaded despite claiming neutrality. That's what happened to Holland,
remember. And Belgium. Shall we go back to your place now?" "Sure," he said,
"Another coffee?" She nodded. "Yes, but I'm not going to do the inverted mug
again." "No," he said, "that levitation trick makes the coffee mug one look
like kids stuff." "I've got things that make that levitation trick look like
kids stuff, Duncan."

Back at his house, he put the kettle on and made them both another coffee, and
he set out some biscuits. She was sitting quite normally on the couch when he
took the tray in and laid it down. "Are you going to do some more magic?" he
asked. "No," she said, "more history." "World War Two?" "No, current history.
There's a war going on, Duncan." "Probably more than one." "A big one. Very
big. But you haven't heard about it." "A secret war?" "No, not secret. It just
hasn't reached here yet." "Between who?" "You could call them the blacks and
the whites. Or Ahriman and Mazda. Or God and Satan. It doesn't really matter -
there's two sides, and they're each a nasty piece of work. Both think they're
"good" and the other one is "evil". Both looking to sign up more allies to the
"Cause". Not too bothered about collateral damage. Think that it's worth any
sacrifice to win, especially if the sacrifice is someone else." "Aren't a lot
of wars like that?" She nodded. "Yes. Not all. But yes, there's a lot of
people like that. Anyway. You probably want to stay neutral in this. Like
Switzerland." "Sounds good to me." "Trouble is, you don't have anything like
the Swiss Army. You just don't have the weaponry to make invasion any sort of
problem, you'll just get trodden on." "We've got ships, planes. We've got
nukes. We can give anyone a bloody nose." She stood up, and beckoned him to
follow.

The evening was a bit chilly as they stood outside in his front garden. "Look
up there, Duncan." He looked up, the stars glittering brightly. "Duncan, you
don't stand a chance. They can orbit a million miles away and drop rocks on
you until they've killed enough of you for you to surrender. You don't have
anything you can fight back with. You'll fight civil wars between the ones who
want to surrender and the ones who want to try to fight on, somehow. But you
don't have the weapons to fight with, the result is either total surrender or
total genocide, and as far as I can see, it could go either way." He turned to
face her. "I'm not saying I believe all this, but if it's true, then we're
doomed, there's nothing we can do. You're right, no-one on this planet has a
weapon that can reach out a million miles into space and stand any chance of
doing any damage." She moved close to him, and turned her face up towards his,
and whispered softly. "Yes, you do. You do now. I'm the weapon, Duncan." She
put her arms round him, he pulled her towards him, and they kissed.

Back inside, she sat on the floor, hugging her knees. "Well," he said, "that
was nice. But ..." "I know," she replied. "It's rather a lot to ask you to
believe. But actually, you don't need to believe all that. Take it one step at
a time, and just suspend judgement on the tough stuff. You only need to decide
whether you believe or not, when you have some actual decision to make. Until
then, you can treat it as a nice story. "OK," he said, "that sounds fair
enough. How about you come sit on the couch with me here and tell me some more
stories?" She laughed, changed to a crossed-legs position and rose up from the
floor without using her legs. After a few seconds, she settled down on the
couch next to him. He turned to her, but she fended him off. "First decision,
Duncan." "I knew it. Too good to be true. What to I have to do, kill a
dragon?" "No, it's a lot simpler than that. See, I only arrived here today,
I've got nowhere to stay. Could I stay here overnight?" "Er." "I don't need a
bed or anything, I'll be all right just here." He thought about offering to
share his own bed; then he thought, well, maybe that's going a bit too fast. A
kiss is just a kiss. "Arrived from where?" She looked up at the ceiling, then
back down at him. "From there." "Yes, but where's there?" he persisted. "You
don't have a name for it, Duncan." "I don't have a name for you, either." "I
don't have a name." "Everyone has a name." "I'm not anyone." "Yes you are."
"No, Duncan, I'm not anyone. I'm a weapon."

"You said that before, what do you mean?" "Like the Swiss Army. I'm what makes
it not worth while to add this planet to either of the empires." "Empires?"
"Federations, unions, alliances. Empires. Ahriman or Mazda, whichever. I make
it more trouble than it's worth." "How?" She sat and thought. "Can we defer
that one, too? I really don't want to hit you with too much at once, and we
don't need that part just yet. You've seen one of the things I can do, just
assume that there's others, and we can get into details later. But I got here
only today, I don't have a base, can I stay here?" "Where's your luggage?" She
shook her head. "Got none." "No money either, I suppose?" She raised one of
her eyebrows. "No, I guess not. The intergalactic travellers Bureau de Change
hasn't been set up yet," he joked. "Look here," she said, showing her empty
hands. "This is all I've got, just me, myself and I." "Of course you're
welcome to stay here. Is there anything you need? There's towels in the
bathroom. You have a toothbrush?" She shook her head. "I've got a spare."

"Duncan?" "Yes?" "Thank you. You're taking a lot on trust here." "Well, you
know. You look mostly harmless." "Camouflage. I'm a lot more dangerous than I
look." "Show me." "What?" He moved towards her on the couch. "Show me." "Oh, I
see what you mean." She moved towards him, and they kissed again, this time
for a lot longer than before. His tongue suddenly felt hers, softly offering a
promise for the future, or at least a possibility. His arms were around her
body, her hands were on his shoulder blades, rubbing gently, his hands moved
to her waist, she moved closer towards him.

The kiss ended when she pulled back. "Oh," she said. "Mmm," replied Duncan.
"So, here?" she asked. He thought about that, and decided she wasn't asking
what he was hoping she was asking. "If you like, you can use my spare
bedroom." "OK, sounds great, thanks."

That night, Duncan had trouble getting to sleep. First of all, there were so
many mysteries that he couldn't even start to unravel them. Then there was the
sexy lady in the next room, a lady without a name, who thought she was a
weapon. Eventually, he decided that she was just playing some sort of game
with him, but it seemed like a nice enough sort of game, and he'd go along
with it. Dunno about the coffee mug trick, though. Or the floating through the
air.

* * *

Next day, he woke to the smell of frying bacon. He put on his dressing gown,
and went downstairs. "Hi," she said. "I thought I'd make myself useful." She'd
set out the breakfast table, there was coffee in the pot and cereal in a bowl.
"Thanks," he said, and dug in. She put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of
him. "I shouldn't really," he said, thinking about his waistline and picking
up a knife and fork. "So what do you plan to do while I'm at work?" he asked.
"Work," she said, "oh yes. Is it OK if I wait for you here? Maybe I could do a
bit of dusting and stuff while I'm waiting? When you get back, we can talk
some more, I've got lots more to tell you." "A name would be nice. Look, if
you don't have a name, how about I pick a name for you?" "No thank you. I'm
perfectly fine without one."

He got to the office, and sat through two meetings, drew up some presentation
charts, make some phone calls. Time went by at its usual rate, sixty minutes
to each hour, sixty seconds to each minute. Another day, another duty done. He
caught the bus for home, wondering what would be there to greet him, exactly.
During the day, he'd gone from thinking that she was a "con artist" to
"nymphomaniac", from "eccentric" to "complete nutter". And not having a name
to label her with was driving him barmy. "She" or "Her" just isn't good
enough.

* * *