The Weapon - Lex - part 7
By Diana the Valkyrie
Flying lessons
Update: 22/10/2003 to valkyrie05

"Frank," she said. I saw his ears go up as he heard his name. "Walkies." Wag
wag. She stood up, and I watched her. "Herbie, walkies." Yes, Wendy, I'll be
your doggie.

We went back to the park. Wendy let Frank off his leash, and he rocketed off,
looking for rabbits. Or squirrels. Or anything that didn't have teeth or claws
and was chaseable. He got lucky, he found some kids playing with a ball, and
pretty soon he was happily chasing after their ball, while they happily threw
it for him to chase. Wendy coughed to get my attention. "Flying lessons," she
said. My heart sank into my boots.

"I can't fly," I muttered. "Don't worry, it's easy," she answered, and put me
in one of her hugs, medium-sized. The sensation of being squeezed against her
..., against, I mean, against her, distracted me from the fact that my feet
weren't supporting my weight any more. I screamed when I realised this, and
she blew into my ear and said "stop being silly." "I'm not being silly, I'm
scared of heights." "We're only three inches above the ground." I looked down.

Oh.

"You're not scared of three inches, are you?" I had to admit that not even
CowardMan could be scared of three inches. "Right then. So, I'll just hold you
like this for a while."

Well, I could hardly complain. It was rather nice, actually.

After a few minutes, she said "Do you think you could handle a couple more
inches?" "Yeah, sure," I said boldly, "bring it on."

"Here's the thing," she said. "There's no difference between me supporting you
a few inches above the ground, and me supporting you a few miles high." "There
is to me." "Why? You don't think I'm going to drop you, do you?" "Well. No. I
suppose not." "You suppose?" "I mean, no, you won't drop me." "You trust me,
then?" "Sure I trust you, of course I do." "So, what's the difference?" "Um
..."

"Look down now," she said. I screamed. I could see the treetops ... below me.
I struggled to get away from her, but she held me like an accountant holds a
cheque. I fought against her grip, trying to get away, but it was no use. Then
she took us back down to the ground, and let go of me. I fell to my hands and
knees, and stayed down.

She crouched down to be near me. "You're insane," she said. I tried to breathe
without gulping. "You were trying to make me let you go, eighty feet up in the
air. Do you know what would have happened if you'd made me let go?" I was
concentrating on trying not to vomit. "Not that you could have made me let go,
you're not going to be able to overcome one of the People." I lost the battle,
and sprayed the grass in front of me.

Frank came over to see what the matter was. Wendy kept him off the mess I'd
just made on the grass, and put his lead back on his collar. Then she hoisted
me up to my feet by one hand, and said "I think we'd better get you home."

Back home, I washed my face, and rinsed out my mouth while Wendy watched. "You
really do have a problem, don't you?" "I told you, Wendy, I can't take
heights." "But you've been in an airplane before." "That's different, I can
persuade myself that I'm in a room on the ground, I just don't look out of the
windows. I know it's not rational, now you just convince the scared little
monkey inside me that thinks it's falling out of a tree."

Falling is one of humanity's great fears. The falling-dream is one of the
great insecurity dreams, and it probably goes back several million years to
the time when falling was a real daily threat. Wendy sat cross-legged a few
feet from the ground, she could have no conception of what it was like for us,
fighting our eternal fight against the force of gravity. "Come here, Herbie."
I looked at her. "Why?" "I'm not giving up that easily."

"Wendy, I'd rather ... " "Trust me?" Oh damn, why does she keep hitting me
with that. "Sure I trust you, it isn't me, it's this thing inside me ... "

"Everything inside you is part of you, you can't externalise your internal
problems." She lay face-up on the floor, and beckoned me to lay on top of her.

That's a difficult offer to refuse.

My face was close to her face. "Duncan used to love flying with me." "Yeah."

"So did George, so did David." "Well, maybe I'm different." "Yes, you are.
You're all different, you know that? Every one of you. No two the same. But
there's some things you all have in common." "Two ears, two eyes, that sort of
thing?" "Mmm," she said. And very quietly, "and sex."

I nearly fell off her. That's not the sort of thing you expect to talk about
when, well. When. When I'm lying on top of a sexy woman, I don't ... maybe I
do. "We don't have sex," she said. "We don't?" I asked. "I mean we, the
People, we don't have two sexes, just the one." "So, I said, asking the
obvious question, "how do you, um, make babies?" "I can make a baby all by
myself, if I can find the right ingredients." "Ingredients?" She made it sound
like a cake. "Or else it takes six of us." I tried to imagine six Wendys
making a baby, and my imagination boggled. "Although the way you humans make
babies is very nice," she commented, "have you ever made one?"

"No," I said in a very small voice.

"Why not? Babies are lovely."

"Never had the opportunity."

"Oh, come on, it's easy, everyone does it."

"Here's one who doesn't."

"Why not."

I lay there, silently.

She shook me slightly. Then she said, "Herbert, you're crying."

I buried my face in her hair, and stopped trying to pretend that I wasn't in
tears. She'd really gotten to me. This was something I've always tried not to
think about. After a while, she started to stroke my hair, and I found myself
enfolded in a great pair of white feathery wings. I gradually started to get
control of myself again, and she pushed it further. "What's the matter,
Herbie? You can tell me."

I looked into her eyes. "Promise me you won't repeat this to anyone?" She
nodded.

I gulped, and tried to explain. "I'm not very good socially. When my friends
started to pair off, I didn't know how. I don't know how to talk to girls, I
don't have the smooth patter, never had a girlfriend, never got married, and
now I'm too old, middle-aged and I've never, never... Never done it. Probably
couldn't, anyway. Don't have any lady friends, don't even have any men
friends, no friends at all, just a few people I know at the office. Frank is
my best friend, and he's just a dog."

Silence.

"You've got one friend, Herbert." "Who?" "She isn't a girl, or a woman, or a
man, or a dog." I looked up into her eyes. "I'm your friend, Herbert."

"Really?" "Really." I let my head fall back onto her, she was warm and soft
and very comforting. "Mmm." I said. I let the thought tumble around inside my
head for a little while. The Guardian of Humanity, and she's my best friend.

Sounds good to me. I told her so. She smiled at me. The world felt good.

"Look down," she said.

While she'd distracted me with this discussion, she'd floated out the window
and up into the sky. I looked down. This was not a good idea.