The Weapon - Lex - part 18
By Diana the Valkyrie
Visiting Kate
Update: 02/11/2003 to valkyrie05


Kate lived in a small house on the edge of the town; you could see green
fields not very far away. "It's nice here," I remarked. "It's nice anywhere,"
said Kate, grinning. I'm definitely not used to women like this. "Take your
shoes off, I expect you'd like a cup of tea?" I thought about what Americans
call "tea", and said "Coffee, actually." "I'll get the coffee percolating."

It was real coffee, and it was the first decent mug I'd had since leaving
England. I started to relax. "So tell me, Herb, what the fuck was that all
about?" "Er, what?" "That farce of a case we just acted in?" "I thought we
weren't going to talk about the case?" "That was before, this is after. I'm
not involved in it any more, we can talk. If there's an appeal, I obviously
can't be the judge again. So, what the fuck was that all about?"

I put my coffee down, and looked her in the eye. "Look. She isn't human. She
isn't even organic. She's four black holes, and don't ask me to explain any
more because my astrophysics ends with knowing that the earth goes around the
sun. She just doesn't think like you and me. She's more alien than I can begin
to imagine. I think she can read my mind sometimes, but she's amazed at the
way we can lie to ourselves. She told me she can snuff out the sun, and I'm
pretty sure that when she tells me to go to sleep, she somehow switches off my
brain, but she doesn't quite fathom about money. Money is a mystery to her,
but she bangs on and on about trust to such an extent that I suspect I don't
actually know what she means by that word. And don't tell me that doesn't make
sense, that's the whole point. Her sense isn't ours, ours isn't hers. So, I
really don't know what that was all about, OK?"

"But you're her legal."

"Yes, maybe. Truth be told, I'm just a solicitor, I don't usually stand up and
represent people in court, I just do the paperwork end of things. I just did
what she told me to do, pretty much. I did go through all the documents I
could get access to, that's how come I know that this case certainly isn't as
simple as it looks. Did you know that Humanity First is behind it?" "No, but I
suppose I shouldn't be surprised. They were doing that big demonstration, and
they certainly don't like Mrs McCrae." "The Weapon. She also calls herself
Wendy, the Mrs McCrae is just for legal purposes. Or else you can call her
"The Guardian of Humanity", but that's a bit of a mouthful, and maybe Humanity
doesn't deserve to be guarded after what happened here. And did you know that
Humanity First will get most of that $4.83 billion?" "What?" I nodded.
"Cattermole's firm gets 90%, but they pass 89% on to the HF people." "So the
victims only get 10%?" "Right, but since they padded the claim by a factor of
ten, they'll be happy too." "So why did you agree to this?" "Because She said
we should. And She is the client. What can I do?" "You could have argued,
talked her out of it."

I sighed. "You don't know what it's like. She says what she wants, I explain
why that's a bad idea, she says 'no' and after that, everything I say she just
says 'no', it's really difficult to argue with her. And you know, the whole
time that's happening, I'm conscious that I can't even grasp how powerful she
is. How do you argue with a thousand pound gorilla?" "You don't," replied
Kate, thoughtfully, "is it really that bad? Maybe those HF people aren't so
wrong." "They're flat wrong," I said, "we are bloody lucky to have someone
like Wendy on our side."

I explained to her about the galactic war, and how terrible it would be if we
were sucked into it. "But you only have her word for this, where's your
independent corroboration? You know you can never take the word of a single
witness. And in this case, it isn't even that strong, she hasn't seen this
war, she's repeating what she's heard. This is hearsay, Herbie."

I nodded. "That's true, I suppose. At some point, you have to have faith, is
what it is." "Faith? Is that why she flaunts those angel wings? To try to
convince us that she's heaven-sent?" "No, not at all," I protested, "she's
very open about that, she says it's just for dramatic effect, like the cape
only more so. Look, you wear high heels, that isn't to pretend you're taller
than you are, it's just for appearance." Kate nodded. "Anyway. Never mind
about what she says, I'll concede we have no way of assessing that. It boils
down to trust. And I trust her. Never mind what she says, look at what she
does. Faith is when you believe with zero foundation backing that up; with
Wendy our trust as a real basis."

I didn't have to list Wendy's actions, she got plenty of media coverage. "But
what about that aircraft carrier that she dumped in Washington?" "No-one got
killed, no-one got hurt," I pointed out, "and she was defending her island
from attack. And it was a pretty effective way of stopping the violence
without escalating it." "Yes, but then she blotted out the sun." "Which shows
you how powerful she must be. But again, no-one got hurt, right?" "True," said
Kate. "And I'll tell you something else. You invited me round here, which is
very kind of you, and we've spent the last two hours talking about Wendy, and
nothing else. Which shows you the sort of impact she makes." Kate looked at
her mobile. "Oh wow, look at the time! Look, if you want to eat at a
reasonable hour, there's no time for me to cook, let me take you out for a
meal." "No, my treat." "Nonsense, you're a guest in my country. I'll show you
how we live here."

We went to a steak house. In England, a steak is four ounces, six maybe, and
you need a *very* sharp knife to eat it, and lots of mustard to give it a bit
of taste. It has absolutely nothing in common with the food of the same name
in America. The steak took up most of my plate, and it was a big plate, too.
The potatoes weren't boiled or fried, which are the only two ways we Brits
know how to make potatoes, there was a huge baked job, with cream on top. And
there was no cabbage! I ate myself silly.

Back at Kate's place, she put on a classical jazz CD with lots of saxophones,
the coffee pot, and something frilly. And I might be naive, but you don't have
to hit me with a hammer before I get the point. Thing is, though, I'm not
really used to this, and I don't know what the protocols are. I mean, do I
just say "Wanna fuck?" No, probably not. But I have to do something. "Wanna
dance?" she said. Ah. I see. I stood up.

Dancing is either energetic waggling to music, or else it's an excuse for two
adults to get really close and put their arms round each other. You can
probably guess which option we chose. I concentrated really hard on not
treading on her feet, until I had the inspired idea of taking off my shoes
again, which meant that even when I did tread on her feet, it didn't do any
damage. "I don't do this much," I admitted. "Tell me about it," she said,
which I happen to know is emphatic agreement, rather than an invitation to
orate.

And then I managed to screw up my courage to the extent of kissing the side of
her head, But when I tried to repeat that, she turned her face and ...

Wow.

So we stopped dancing, and concentrated on ...

And then we sat of the sofa, and ...

Nice.

"You don't have to go back to the hotel tonight, do you Herbie?" Gulp. Maybe
you'd think I'd be all quivering eagerness at this point, but that's because
you weren't in my shoes. Not that I was actually in my shoes either. In my
socks, actually. How can I put this - I felt uncertain. Unconfident. Scared
out of my gourd. I mean, I know the theory, I'd just never gotten into the
practice. To put it bluntly, I didn't actually know what to do, which in a
16-year-old boy is charming and understandable, and is cured via fumbling with
a 16-year-old girl. But in a middle-aged old fart like me, it isn't charming,
it's pathetic.

"Go for it, Herbie," said Wendy.

My body twisted, my head jerked up. Wendy? I couldn't see her. But I'd just
heard ... "Cool it, stud. You can't see me, nor can she. She can't hear me
either." I looked around the room. Nothing. "Don't say anything, Herbie. I
know you can hear me, just relax, it's your Guardian." "Herbie?" said Kate.
"Say yes," said Wendy "Yes," I said. "Yes, you have to get back?" she said,
sounding disappointed. I rtied to work out what to say next. "Say no, doofus,
you don't have as much sense as a newt?" "I mean no, I mean, yes I can stay, I
don't have to go back, it's not like I have to be in court tomorrow." "Me
neither," said Kate, "it's the weekend. Will Wendy worry about you if you
don't get back?" "No, that'll be OK, somehow I think she'll know what
happened." Kate smiled. "Kiss her, and stop babbling," said Wendy, "just do
what I tell you, I'll coach you through this." "What do you know about human
courting rituals," I thought, "and how come you know what I'm thinking? And
how come I can hear you?" "It's just like the way your mobile blues to the
net. And I know a *lot* about sex, I've been around for a couple of hundred
years, and I've got an emulation of Fiona, and she was a nurse for eighty, and
you don't get to spend eighty years as a nurse without learning *everything*
there is to know about the human body. So just shut up and kiss her."

So I just shut up and kissed her. Like I really wanted a lesson in
electronics?

Wendy coached me the whole time. I mean, not every single nut and bolt, but
she gave me the stage directions and I improvised a bit around them. Maybe I
wasn't Rudolph Valentino, but at least I wasn't a complete failure. And Kate
seemed to be enjoying herself, you could tell by the noises she made. And I
certainly felt like I'd just discovered the New World.

Afterwards, Kate went to sleep. "That's a good sign, Herbie, it means you got
her off." I lay there in the dark, grinning hard enough to kill a bear. "Not
bad for an old feller like me, huh?" I thought. "You done good, grasshopper,"
she said, "now you go to sleep, babe."