The Weapon - Lex - part 3
By Diana the Valkyrie
Dinner for two
Update: 18/10/2003 to valkyrie05

On the way home, I bought a couple of bottles of wine, Matteus Rose, that will
go with just about anything, and it's a fresh sparkling wine, it would counter
my fuddy-duddy solicitor image.

She was there at six, as she'd said. She was wearing civvies; I was glad to
see that, because I really didn't want to have to explain to the neighbours
why there was someone dressed up as the Guardian of Humanity, knocking at my
door. They probably wouldn't believe the truth "No, she really is ..." She
wasn't wearing the formal jacket and skirt suit that she'd worn for her first
visit, she was dressed more casually; very pale blue jeans and a virgin white
blouse, with a gold belt. Over the top of that, she was wearing a cloak, made
of what looked like white velvet, with some sort of design on the back, it
looked like an eagle, but after thinking about it, I decided it was a W.

Looking at her, I could see that she was wearing a sort of civilian version of
her superheroine outfit. She seemed to have forgotten to bring any food.

"Where's the kitchen," she asked, brightly. I looked at her. "I thought you
could see through walls ... " "Sure I can, but it's only polite to ask, no?"

I preceded her to the kitchen. As soon as we got inside, Frank bounded up and
started giving the new visitor the once-over as per usual, but then he started
snarling and barking. And then he stopped, whined, put his tail between his
legs, flattened his ears and put his head down to near the floor. "What's up,
Frank?"

"It's me, Mr Mickleshaw, I'm not human, he can tell. And I've just come onto
his territory. He was trying to protect you, he's got the right idea, he's
being your Guardian." "But now he's scared." "His big scary dog act didn't
work, and he can see I'm not intimidated. And I'm a lot bigger and scarier
than he is, so he's telling me 'I surrender, please don't hurt me' " "Huh.
Some Guardian you are, Frank!" "Hey, don't blame him, he's only a dog, he did
his best, what did you expect?"

She hunkered down on the floor, and offered Frank her hand. He inched forward,
and looked at me. I said, "It's OK, Frank, she's a friend." He looked back at
her, she smiled at him. Very tentatively, he licked her hand. She brought her
other hand forward, she was holding something, I didn't see what. She offered
it to the dog, he sniffed it, then took it. And ate it. And then he wriggled
forward a bit more, and she fondled his ears. He wagged his tail, once. She
gave him another of whatever it was she'd just given him. "What are you giving
him there?" I asked. "Chocolate biscuits, dogs love them" "Oh."

Within a couple of minutes, Frank was totally won over. He was standing,
wagging his tail like it was his main task in life, and Wendy was part of the
family. "I think he likes you," I said. "More important, he trusts me," she
replied.

She took off her cloak, and hung it up, then produced a pinafore from
somewhere. I blushed when I read what it said. "Get the fuck out of my
kitchen." She saw my discomfiture, and laughed. "Come on, Mr Mickleshaw, it's
just a joke." I tried to grin. "Please, call me Herbert." "And you must call
me Wendy."

"Wendy is your name?" "No." "But you just asked me to call you Wendy." "Yes."
She was clattering saucepans while we spoke, water was coming to the boil and
she'd found some rice somewhere. "But Wendy isn't your name?" "No." "So what's
your name, Mrs McCrae?" "No." "But that's your Secret Identity, right?" "No,
it's not a Secret Identity, it's just me. Mrs McCrea is just what I call
myself when I need a formal name, McCrea was Duncan's name, and he liked
calling me Wendy, like Peter Pan's friend, you know? I actually don't have a
name" "No name?" "That's right, us People don't have names, not needed, but I
know that confuses you humans, so I call myself Wendy McCrae." "But that isn't
your name." "No, it's just what I call myself." "So who's the Guardian of
Humanity?" "That's me too, it's what most people call me, but it doesn't look
good on official documents, which want a first name and a last name, so I use
Wendy McCrea." "What about your parents, what did your mother call you?"

She stopped what she was doing, and turned to me. She smiled, it was like the
whole room lit up. "My momma. She came to visit me once, you know?" She leaned
against the kitchen counter, looking reminiscent and misty-eyed. "She came to
visit, she told me she was really proud of me, and she loves me so much. My
momma." I looked around. "So where is she now, and what does she call you?"
"She's a long way away now," she said, briskly, getting back to the saucepans.

Vegetables were being chopped in an eye-blurring way, "A couple of million
lights away. She called me her little fireball. She'll come and visit me again
some time."

I guessed that was a bit like being called a little kitten or something. Now a
small saucepan was bubbling at the front of the hob, and she started adding
powders and dried leaves to the concoction. I had no idea what it was, but my
nose was telling my mouth to get ready for something seriously good.

"The writ was made out to 'The Guardian of Humanity, aka Wendy McCrea, an
alien being of no fixed abode'" She nodded, "That sounds like me," she said,
"they call me that sometimes. But I'm not an alien, I'm one of the People. And
I'm not no-fixed-abode, I live here, on this planet, I've been here for
several decades, 150 years, actually, and I'll be here for millions of years.
As long as you need me. I'm as fixed as it gets, I'm a lot more fixed than you
humans, you only stick around for a century or so and then you go." "To us
you're an alien, Wendy." "No, to you I'm the only weapon that stands between
you and the planetary disaster that will happen if one side or the other in
the galactic war comes here and signs you up as an ally." "The what?"

While she was cooking, she told me an extraordinary tale of a war that's been
going on for a billion years, between two sides both firmly convinced that
they're the good guys and the others are pure evil. "And which of them are the
good guys," I asked. "It doesn't really matter," she replied. "If you get
sucked into this war, you're fucked." I blushed again. "But one side must be
evil?"

"You thought evil people see themselves as evil? Even God thought he was doing
the right thing when he killed the Firstborn children of Egypt, or when he
nearly wiped out humanity with a flood. More importantly, most of you humans
think that this was a good act, assuming that it actually happened. It's
mind-boggling, I won't understand you humans if I live to be a trillion.
You're just, just ... No, it isn't as simple as that. Everyone thinks that
their actions are right and justified, and if necessary, they'll redefine
'good' so that they're one of the good guys."

"You don't think God is good?"

She stopped stirring the saucepan, and looked at me. "You know, your ability
to lie to yourselves is one of your least attractive aspects, and one of these
days it's going to get you into real trouble." I felt like a small child who
had just been told to stop pissing on the carpet. She turned back to the
cooker as I blushed deeply red.

"So how can we keep out of this war, if they have the sort of technology that
can sustain an intergalactic war for a billion years, how can we hope to stand
up to them?" "Simple," she said, "you need a weapon of such destructive power
that no-one in their right mind would dare to face it. You show any aggressor
that weapon, and they run like hell with their tail between their legs. Like
Frank just did when his show of strength didn't work." "And where do we get
one of those?" I asked. She turned and faced me, and said "Another name I go
by is 'The Weapon'". "Oh," I said. "Go put plates and stuff on the table," she
said. I'd put out my best tablecloth, and the knives and forks that looked
like they were silver, sort of. I opened one of the bottles of wine, and
poured a couple of glasses. I thought candles would be overegging the pudding.