The Weapon - Genesis - part 9
By Diana the Valkyrie
The Weapon in pain


Sally Robson came back into the Ops room, together with the two women who were
supporting her. She saw Wendy, and screeched. "Bitch! BITCH! You killed him,
he's dead and it's your fault." "No, no" said Wendy. "Yes, you bitch, my baby,
my baby, he's dead and you did it, if you'd got here sooner, he'd still be
walking around, I hate you - I hate you," she screamed. Wendy looked
horrified. "But, but I ..." "Fuck off, just fuck off, bitch, I hate you."
Wendy looked wildly round the room, and dived out of a window. Duncan ran to
the window and shouted to a rapidly vanishing white dot. "Wendy, no! Come
back!" but it was too late, she'd gone. He turned back to the room, and
started to say something to Sally, then he caught himself. A woman who has
just lost a son isn't ready for calm debate about blame. "Come on, Sally,
we're taking you home," said the women with her. "Bitch, bitch," muttered
Sally.

"Oh god, I'm sorry about that," said Gossage, holding out both his hands, "but
you know the situation. I'll apologise to your girl when she comes back."
"When she comes back. God knows where she is now, she could be halfway to Mars
by now." "Really?" "Yes, really. And she's crying." "Crying? She looks hard as
nails to me, she just put out a forest fire single handed." "I know her, you
don't. She's crying. Oh shit, she's crying, and I'm not with her. Half the
reason she has me around is this sort of situation and I let her down again."
"Again?" "Don't ask." "Is she going to be OK in Mars, or wherever."
"Physically? Yeah, I don't think there's anything that can actually hurt that
girl. But she's crying, she's hurt inside."

"She really made this herself?" "Yes. She didn't have it when we left England,
she must have. Made two of them, actually. No, at least two, she might have a
few more around, I don't know. It is good, isn't it?" "Yeah." They sat and
admired the statue. "The Weapon. What's that, it's written on the base."
"That's her, she's The Weapon." "What's that about." Duncan sighed. "Don't
ask. And I've failed her again, I should have jumped in while all that was
still going and shut that poor mother up." "Yeah? How, a punch on the kisser?"
Duncan closed his eyes. "I don't know. All I know is, she's out there crying
her eyes out, and I can't do a damn thing about it." "There is one thing you
can do." "What's that?" "I've been fighting this goddamn fire for two weeks
now, without a day off, no break, fifteen - no, sixteen good people have died
on account of it, and there's dozens that won't die because of your girl The
Weapon, and I think you and I should get out and get totally blotto. I know
I'm going to. Coming along?" Duncan looked around. "Yeah, might as well. I'm
not doing anyone any good here."

* * *

"What's it like?" "What's what like?" "You know. Living with a goddess." "She
isn't a goddess." "You know what I mean." "Don't ask."

* * *

"Don't keep looking up in the sky. Even if she's there you won't see her." "I
know. But." "But what?" "I don't know. Am I making sense?" "No. Have another
Fosters." "OK"

* * *

"She cooks too?" "No, we mostly eat out or get takeaways, but if she says she
can cook, they you can bet she can." "She's never cooked for you before?"
"We've only been together a couple of days." "Gordon Bennett. You two
married?" "Not on paper." "Know what you mean, nudge nudge." "Have another
beer"

* * *

"She really takes you flying?" "That's how we got here." "How fast does she
go?" "I don't think there's a limit, actually, except if she's carrying me,
she has to be a bit careful." "So how fast?" "We hit Mach 4 over the Indian
Ocean." "You can stand the airstream at Mach 4?" "She wraps me in her cape."
"Oh. What's the cape made of, then?" "Don't ask."

* * *

"Aren't you afraid that she might, well, hurt you? In a moment of anger, or in
the throes of passion or something?" "No." "But she could, couldn't she." "Not
a chance." "But she carried fifty million tons of water, and if she
accidentally ... " "Gossage, put a sock in it."

* * *

"What's it like when you both, like, you know. Together." "Goss, you looking
for a punch up the bracket?" "Sorry, mate"

* * *

Round about the fifth bar, Duncan fell off his chair. "Oops." Gossage giggled.
"Want another?" "Twist my arm." "OK, mate ... oops." Gossage joined him on the
floor. The barman came over. "I think you two fellas have had all you need,
you got a home to go to?" "Don't remember", said Gossage, "not seen it for a
couple weeks." "Yeah, but it's twelve thubbly bubbly doodle oops," added
Duncan. "OK, that's it, I'm calling you a cab." Duncan looked at Gossage, who
looked back. "YOU'RE A CAB," they chorused.

* * *

Duncan, lying on the couch in Gossages living room, half woke up, his mouth
feeling like a used strip of sandpaper. "urg", he groaned. He shifted
slightly, and felt a body curled up behind him, cuddling him, like two spoons.
"Aaarghh...," he yelled, "Gossage?" He sat bolt upright and looked around
wildly. The first thing he saw was about a yard of black hair. "Wendy?" "Hi,
Duncan. Boy, you had a skinful last night." "Oh. Thank god. I thought you were
... never mind. Where've you been, out to Mars and back?" "Er, no. The other
way." "Where?" "I went down the the middle of the sun and had a good cry." He
put his arms round her. "Oh, Wendy. I knew you were crying, and I wanted to
hug you, but I couldn't, I felt awful." "Felt pretty bad myself." "She didn't
know what she was saying, she'd just lost her son, and she just wasn't being
rational, it's not surprising. But you didn't kill her son, no matter what she
said. Gossage said that without you there, he'd have had to evacuate 50,000
people, maybe 100,000 and that would have caused dozens of deaths. You saved a
lot of lives yesterday, Wendy." "I suppose so. But Duncan. She was right. If
we'd got there a bit earlier, her son wouldn't have died. Don't you see? She
was hysterical, but she was right. And that's why I was crying."

He pulled her closer, and cuddled her. "Wendy, you can't think that way, it's
the wrong way round. There's a three hundred thousand people die each day. You
can't save all of them." "I could try." "No, you couldn't, Wendy. I know
there's a lot you can do, but you can't be everywhere and do everything.
People have to live their lives, and one day we all die, we get 70 years, 100
tops, it's the way things are." "Not always, Duncan. I'll be around a lot
longer than that." He looked at her. "But you're not human, you keep telling
me that. Don't think about the ones you didn't help, think about the ones you
did. Any doctor will tell you the same. You just can't win them all, it's good
enough to just win some of them. The middle of the sun?" She nodded. "Wow."
"It's nice and peaceful there." "Peaceful?" "Well, it's kind of loud, but it's
a peaceful sort of loud, you know? And it's safe and warm there. I like it"
"Warm? You call 30 million degrees warm?" "Mmm. Don't worry, I used sun block.
And you don't get much safer than the middle of a star." "Sun block?" "Look,
Duncan, I stripped right down, you know what I mean? Right down. And when I
said I was crying, I don't mean water running down cheeks, I mean crying
inside me." He held her tighter. "Wendy Wendy Wendy. My little kitten." She
purred. "Anyway, while I was sitting down there, I thought about things." "And
what did you think?" "I thought, the reason I have a Wielder is because he's
supposed to know about this kind of thing, so I should go find him and ask him
about it." "And here you are." "Well, yes and no. I found you hours and hours
ago, but you were so disgustingly drunk I couldn't even wake you up." "Oh
shit. I let you down again." "Yes and I'm really angry with you." "You are?"
"Yes, and now I'm going to punish you." "Punish me?" "Yes. You are hereby
sentenced to have your brains fucked out."

* * *

After half an hour or so, the noises died down. "We must have woken Gossage up
with that," said Duncan. "Couldn't you, you know, muffle things a bit?" she
asked. "You're kidding. With you doing that? I've barely got enough self
control to breathe." She chuckled. "It's all right for you, you don't need to.
But I do, and, well, since I've got my mouth open for that anyway ... " She
tickled the fur on his chest, and looked up. "He's still asleep. You two
really hung one on last night." "Yes, well. He's been working practically
non-stop the last two weeks because of the fire you just put out, and I was
worried about you." "Oh, Duncan. Worried about me? Really? I told you, I'm
really hard to damage." "Kitten, you were crying, and that's because you were
hurting." "There is that," she admitted. "Anyway, I feel pretty good now,
you're here, the sun is shining and I don't even have a hangover. Hey. Wait a
minute. How come I don't have a hangover?" "Don't ask, love, think kidney
metabolism and yes, I know I didn't ask you first but you were hardly in any
condition to be asked. Look, let's just leave a note for Gossage and get back
home, huh? Oh, and I made this for Mrs Robson" It was a gold statue of a fire
fighter, a man, in an action pose. On the base, it said "Simon Robson,
Firefighter". "Wendy, that's lovely, you made that?" "Yes; you get quite a lot
of gold in 50 million tons of seawater.

To: Captain Gossage

Well, we really hit the town last night, huh? The good news is, she came back
last night and I woke up with her wrapped round me. She'd spent a few hours at
the center of the sun, she said it was nice and peaceful there and she had a
chance to have a good cry and a think. Anyhow, she's OK now. You were so fast
asleep this morning that we didn't want to wake you. Please give the statue to
Mrs Robson, with our sympathy and regret that we were too late for her son.
We'll probably be back in England by the time you wake up. Her email address
is weapon@theweapon.net if anyone needs to contact her.

"Duncan, it'll take us several hours to get back, you know?" "Well. I was
thinking. Suppose we went sub-orbital." "You mean, straight up almost, half an
orbit, then re-entry?" "Right. Your cape worked so well at mach four, I didn't
feel a thing, so it should be OK for re-entry. And it was airtight, I'd have
felt the draft if it wasn't. And we can pick up a Scuba outfit, like they use
for diving, one set of tanks will hold enough air for an hour, and the cape
will be pressurised against the vacuum." "OK, let's do that, except we won't
need the Scuba." "The cape won't hold enough oxygen for me, Wendy." "No
problem, my Wielder. You breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide.
I'll just split that back to carbon and oxygen. Good grief, even a cabbage can
do that, it's hardly a big deal." He looked at her. "You know what? I should
have thought of that. I guess I'm just not used to what you're capable of."
"That's why we're going through this learning process, sweetheart."

She held him in her arms, her legs round his thighs, his head on her breasts,
and she wrapped her cape around them both. "Stand by for lift-off," she said,
"two, one, we have ignition ... " "Up, up and away," he replied. "Going up
..." He felt the sensation of three gravities for several minutes, then there
was no weight at all. "We have orbit," she announced. "Please leave your
safety belts fastened, you'll find the in-flight entertainment center if you
lift my skirt. And no smoking, please."

* * *