The Weapon - Resurrection - part 35
By Diana the Valkyrie
The semiological effect of the Guardian mythos
Update: 15/07/2003 to valkyrie05


I was waiting for her at a certain Indian restaurant near Picadilly Circus.
The place where I'd first met her. I looked up as she walked in, she was
wearing civilian clothes, and there were no wings anywhere to be seen. She
looked like a normal human female; white skirt, gold belt, white coat, gold
hat. "Hi, David," she said, and gave me a peck on the cheek, "how do you think
it went?" "You killed them, Wendy." "I did? I didn't mean to." "No no, I mean,
oh hell, you know perfectly well what I mean." She smiled. "I'll have a
vegetable Korma," she said.

We lunched, and then we walked to Green Park. The snow had all melted now, and
around the trees, you could see the brave snowdrops, their heads nodding white
with the promise of spring. We sat on the park bench were we'd sat, oh, weeks
ago now. But it seemed like another era. It was another era, it was the
pre-Wendy era. "I'm cold," I lied. "Come here," she said, and cuddled me
close. Her cape flared out and wrapped around us both, I warmed myself on her
body.

We sat there for an hour, talking about how we'd organise Pretty Flamingo, how
many people we needed to recruit for the oversight of all that building, all
that research. "I know someone good at marketing," said Wendy, "and I know an
honest accountant. I think most of the old Pretty Flamingo crew will want to
come along." Then we strolled on, fed the ducks in St James's Park, and then
at Kensington Gardens, we stopped by the statue of Peter Pan. "He'll never get
any older, he'll always be a Lost Boy. And I'm his Wendy," she said, and there
were tears in her eyes, and I knew she wasn't talking about Peter Pan.

And then it was time for Wendy to get back to the Stock Exchange. So I hailed
a cab and went home.

If you were watching TV that day, or if you read your history, you'll know
that the subscription list passed twenty trillion in the first half hour.
After that, it was just wrangling to decide who would be allowed to offer what
part of the twenty trillion in loans and shares, who would be allowed to
invest how much. And you'll have heard that share price of the Pretty Flamingo
Live Long and Prosper fund doubled in the day after trading in the shares
began. But you might have missed Wendy's closing speech that day, because it
was very short, succinct and to the point.

"I am the Guardian of Humanity, and you are the people I care about. And
today, you have shown that you care, too. Thank you. Thank you all."

And then she did her ascend-to-heaven routine.

I saw it all on TV, she was magnificent. All smoke and mirrors, of course.
Those wings were just for show, she didn't actually fly using them. But she
never said she did.

"My turn to cook supper," I said. I'd gotten some ingredients on the way home,
and I was planning to do a vegetable curry for her, a chicken curry for me.
But she smiled at me, and said "Tell you what. I'll armwrestle you for it. If
I win, I get to prepare the food." "Yeah, right. Listen, I wouldn't take you
on if I had a twenty ton hydraulic press on my side." She smiled. "So get the
fuck out of my kitchen."

The Guardian of Humanity cooks a great curry. I mean, she's fine at saving the
world, but what she really likes is playing with children and cooking curries.

"The statue is lovely," I said, "I didn't realise you were an artist." She
smiled. "I'm glad you like it. It's for you." "Me?" She nodded. "But, but ..."
Tons of gold! "But I thought you gave it to ..." "I gave it to no-one. I just
showed it to them, a demonstration of power. You're the one I made it for,
you're the one who brought me back from the Slough of Despond."

I thought about where on earth I could put a ten foot high statue weighing
several tons. Then I thought, of course. "I'll put it in the garden." Then I
thought, "No, it'll get stolen by some enterprising crook with a forklift and
a twenty-ton truck." Then I thought, anyone stupid enough to steal from the
Guardian of Humanity wouldn't have the wit to find us anyway. Plus, she'd
recover it in no time.

"You do realise, Wendy, you've Saved the World?" She smiled at me. "Actually,
I didn't. All I did was a few magic tricks. It's you humans who will save the
world. You're the ones financing Pretty Flamingo Live Long and Prosper, you're
the ones building the power stations, you're the ones doing the medical
research. I just made a couple of nice speeches that someone else wrote for
me, and flapped my wings a bit." "The semiological effect of the Guardian
mythos," I replied. "In English, please?" she asked. "You, Wendy. You,
inspiring people. You aren't just the Guardian of Humanity. You're also the
Spirit of Hope."

"The semiological effect of the Guardian mythos," she said, "I like the sound
of that."

"Thank you for the statue, Wendy, it really is beautiful. But actually, I was
hoping for something different." "What's that?" "Come here, I'll whisper in
your ear."

She came around the table, and her silky hair fell across my face, as she bent
down to listen. I whispered to her. "David!" she said, in a shocked tone of
voice. "Well, you did ask what I wanted." "True. Well. I suppose." "Mmm?"

"Come on, let's go upstairs," she said.