The Weapon - Lex - part 4
By Diana the Valkyrie
The earthquake
Update: 19/10/2003 to valkyrie05


She came out of the kitchen juggling five saucepans. When I say "juggling",
you probably think I mean "carrying carefully", but actually I mean exactly
what I said. I've never seen anyone do that before, it was pretty spectacular.
Plus they looked like they were too hot to touch, although she obviously
wasn't having a problem. She put them down on the table and started to ladle
out things that smelled like food. And looked like food. My nose was telling
me "food, food, food" and my mouth was desperate to wrap itself round what my
nose smelled.

"Careful, it's hot," she said.

It was, too. Piping hot, like it had just come off the hob. And, after I blew
on the first spoonful to cool it enough for eating, it was spicy hot, too.
Wow! I've had curry before, but this was like an artillery assault on my
taste-buds. It exploded on my tongue and burned its way down my throat while
the vapour did something liquefying to my nose, and tears started down my
cheeks.

My eyes were watering and my nose was streaming. I gulped down the entire
contents of my wine glass, and poured myself a second. She frowned. "I hope
you're not planning to drink both those bottles?"

I looked up. "Well, no. It's for you too." She frowned again. "I don't drink
alcohol." "Oh," I said, there isn't really any answer to that. "There's a
reason," she continued. I sensed a story. "Do tell?" "A good friend of mine
drank himself into a very early grave," she said, "and it made a big impact on
me, for several reasons." "The evil of drink," I suggested. "No, it wasn't
only that," she replied.

"He became too dependent on me. I was just giving him the occasional helping
hand, but he took it as meaning that I'd protect him against his own
stupidity." "He drunk himself to death?" "Sort of. He'd become an alcoholic,
but what killed him was falling asleep, outdoors, in the middle of a snowfall.
He was assuming that I'd make sure he didn't get hurt, but I was assuming that
he had the sense not to be completely stupid, and he wasn't the only person I
was giving help to. There's several billion of you, I just don't have the time
to help every single one of you. He just didn't wake up again. I felt terrible
about it. Anyway, ever since then, I've not touched alcohol. I just don't feel
like it, you know? It isn't a big deal, I don't need to eat or drink anyway,
and alcohol has the same effect on me as water - none at all."

"Water," I said, "that's what I need." She smiled, and flew out of the room,
returning with a large jug, ice cubes bobbling about at the top. Ice cubes?
Where did she get those from, there wasn't any ice in the fridge. "Not that
I'd stop you, of course. You're a grown man, if you want to get drunk, that's
your choice." "No, I wasn't planning to get drunk, it's just that this curry
was so hot, I grabbed the nearest liquid to soothe my tongue a bit."

She laughed. "Duncan says, if it doesn't burn your tongue, it isn't hot
enough." "Who's Duncan," I asked.

She looked wistful. "He was my first Wielder." "Your what?" "Wielder. See, I'm
not human, there's a lot I don't know, like about money, and religion, and,
oh, I guess there's stuff I don't even know that I don't know. So I need a
human to, like, help me out with that stuff. You know?" "But you said 'he
says', not 'he said'. Present tense?" "Well. He died, a several decades ago.
Nine billion of you, and you all die. You live for a little while, and then
you die, leaving me alone again." She looked sad. "Everyone dies," I said,
"death and taxes, the two great inevitables. How long do you think you'll
live?" "Oh, several billion years."

I coughed. Don't ever cough when you've got a mouthful of curry. I think some
of it went up my nose, and you don't want a nosefull of hot curry.

"B-b-billion?" I said. She nodded. "But he's still with me, sort of. Like as a
memory, only more so." "More so?" "I have an emulation of him running, so I
can still talk to him about things." "So he can still give you advice." "Well.
Yes and no. He only knows what he knew then, you understand me? New stuff
isn't part of the emulation." "So who's your Wielder now?" "I don't have one,"
she said.

That fact sort of dropped on the table and sat there while we both looked at
it. Then she changed the subject. "So, what about this lawsuit?" she asked.

Well, that was why she'd visited.

"I've read through the submissions. If you're not challenging the supposition
that you caused the earthquake, then they've got you bang to rights. You
better start writing a cheque for $4.83 billion." "I don't have it." "No, I
know, I was joking. Don't worry, it's actually very simple. You declare
bankruptcy, they would seize all your valuable assets, but you don't have any
assets, the debt is wiped out, and you won't be able to use a credit card for
a few years." "I don't have a credit card, I always used David's" "David?" "My
last Wielder." "What happened ..." "He died. You all die, I already told you.
I'm getting used to it. I don't like it, but that's the way it is." "Oh. Well.
So anyway, this really isn't a big problem; you can't get blood out of a
stone." "But I'll owe them the money?" "Legally, no. Once you declare
bankruptcy, you don't owe anything to anyone." "Legally," she said. I nodded.
"And who pays for all the damage?" "They'll all be insured, so it'll be the
insurance company that pays." "So the insurance company loses out?" "Uh, yes,
but that's what they're there for. They'd have had to pay out a lot more if it
had been a real earthquake." "No, they'd have paid nothing, a real earthquake
counts as "Act of God" so they don't pay out." "But your earthquake is the
same thing." "No, because I'm not God." I looked at her angelic wings.
"They're just for show. I'm nothing supernatural, just one of the People."

"Look," she said, "like I explained, this money thing is something I have a
lot of trouble with, so you'll have to help me here a bit. This is like owing
someone an obligation, like I made a promise?" "Yes, exactly like that." "And
this bankruptcy, it's like you wave some magic legal word, and suddenly it
turns out I didn't make the promise?" "Yes, very like that." "So what are my
promises worth in future? Why would anyone trust me to do what I say I'll do?"

"Well ...," I answered. And then I stopped, because she was right, of course.
"I mean, they won't just forget, will they? Every time I try to do something,
it'll be like, oh, that's the Guardian of Humanity, she owed a bunch of people
about five billion dollars and didn't come good on it, you can't trust her."
"I thought you didn't understand money?" "I don't, that's not money, that's
obligations, arithmetic and ethics. Ethics I understand. Look, Herbert, to do
what I do, people have to trust me. If the Mazdas come ... " "the who?" "The
galactic war, one of the sides we call Mazda, the others Ahriman. Like light
and dark, good and evil." "Which ones are the goodies?" "I already told you,
each of them thinks they are. If the Mazdas come, or the Ahrimans, there will
be people want to join their cause, whichever one, it doesn't matter, it'll
get humanity involved in the war on the side of Truth and Justice, except
truth and justice are the first casualties of war. And when I start explaining
to people why they mustn't join in, I can't have, oh, she's the one who
doesn't pay what she promises. I really need you humans to regard me as
trustworthy. That my word is my bond, you know? Trust. It's important. As
important as love, and a hell of a lot more important tham money."

I looked at her.

"You don't have a thin dime, and you're proposing to pay $4.83 billion
dollars? Honey, you *really* don't understand about money." "No, I know. But
like I said, arithmetic I do understand. Look. That's what they're saying I
caused. But I know how you humans lie to each other, even to yourselves, which
is a pretty amazing trick, you know? And one that I'm working really hard to
understand. Maybe they've sexed the figures up a bit? Made them bigger than
they should be? Maybe you can argue them down somewhat?" "Maybe. But even if I
could get them down to a tenth, that just means you don't have half a billion,
instead of $4.83. It's still an impossible figure" "Yes. But that's a tenth as
impossible, isn't it."

True. I looked at her. She was seriously talking about raising half a billion
dollars, from nothing. Yes, I know she'd said that she can always do what she
says she's going to do, but she also said she doesn't understand money. Not
that I do, for that matter. This was going to be really difficult.

"Yes, I know," she sighed. Then she smiled, "but that's why I'm talking with
you, isn't it!" I glowed a little. Wouldn't you?

"Tell me about this earthquake. Why did you cause it, you don't seem to be a
destructive sort of girl." "I'm not a girl, and I'm more destructive than
anything you can imagine. You really don't want to get me cross." I looked at
her, horrified. Then she smiled. "Heh," I said. "Do you understand how plate
tectonics work?" she asked. "Uh-oh, physics lesson." "Look, Herbert, you can
try to ignore how the world works, but if you close your eyes hard enough, all
it means is you don't see what kills you. The continents of the world are all
sitting on big underground plates, and those plates are moving. When one plate
rubs up against another, they try to slide over each other. Dry your hands,
and press them together hard, them slide one against the other." I did that,
there was a sort of jerky motion. "OK, now lick your palms and do it again."

This time, the motion was smoother. "You see, you're going to get the movement
whatever you do, but if you lubricate the junction, it isn't so jerky." "What
does this have to do with earthquakes?" "Each jerk is an earthquake." I looked
at my hands. "But you haven't explained why you caused an earthquake."

"I lubricated the junction." "You what?" "I dug down to where the plates rub
against each other, and pulverised the rock into powder, so it could slide
more easily. Like when you wet your hands." "And that caused an earthquake?"
"Yes, of course. With the lower friction, the plates could move immediately,
instead of having to build up a big pressure before they could move. So there
was a little earthquake immediately, instead of a monster one a few years from
now. And there won't be any more big earthquakes from now on, as long as I
keep that junction lubed up."

"So that's what you meant by mitigating circumstances?" "Yes, of course. They
were going to get an earthquake, the only choice was, a small one sooner, or a
big killer one later. It's a no-brain choice, really. But it means that I did
actually cause that earthquake, and therefore I am responsible for the damage
it did."

I sat back in my chair, interlaced my fingers, and looked lawyerly. "Then we
can run a 'minor malibus' defence." "A what?" "Latin. The lesser of two evils.
You can't be blamed for actions leading to damage, if inaction would lead to
greater damage."

She looked at me admiringly. "Wow," she said. Have you ever been looked at
admiringly by a pretty girl? Have you ever been looked at admiringly by a
stunningly beautiful woman? Well, I was being looked at admiringly by the
Guardian of Humanity. It was quite an experience. My head swelled up to twice
its former size, and other parts of me felt much encouraged too.