Life as a New Hire Ch. 24

"I know this will cause you pain yet I will say it anyway - I love you." Yeah...I was suddenly wishing Pamela had missed and hit me between the eyes.

"Very well, what can I do for you that would make you happier?" Inside of second. "Clever boy. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Done. I can no longer read your mind." A few seconds passed. "This is annoying. Is this what it is like dealing with me - this 'not knowing'?"

"Yes and you proved it by the way," I murmured. Several more seconds.

"This is really annoying me. Pick something else." Pause. "What does it prove?"

"You love me," I grinned. "Love without freedom is illusionary. Freedom of thought is the basis of hope and hope drives all endeavors." A long pause. I was a bit curious about what was happening to my body.

"Please."

"No."

"I could give you a divine gift...speak in tongues...regeneration...long life?"

"Nope. Not happening."

"I still love you."

"Now I can say I love you and know I mean it."

"That's unfair...clever and insightful, but unfair," she teased me.

"What about the curse?"

"Re-forge my statue at the Temple and the curse will be lifted. Be your regular creative self when you do so." Pause - divine sigh. "I need to send you back now. Oh, and make love to the first woman you see. It is important."

"What? Why is it im..." and I felt the weight of my body and the throbbing of my temple.

(Augurs don'ts and don't give a fuck abouts)

I didn't want to open my eyes - really, truly, deeply. I had been dared by both guys and girls to pick up a certain female at a variety of events, even when they came with company. I'd done it because I'm that kind of low-life. Being pre-ordained to sleep with some chick felt wrong to me. It was cheating. I sincerely wished she hadn't been touching my face.

Yes, someone was running their slender, feminine fingers over my forehead, eyebrows, eyelids, nose...yadda.

"Ishara, I must speak with you," the strange woman implored. My eye movement had given my wakefulness away. I pried open my lids and looked up into the face of a living ghost.

Her skin was albino pale with obvious veins and blue capillaries beneath the surface. Her ocular orbs were a deep milky white, with a tinge of light blue. I could barely make out the pupils. Her hair was whiter than Pamela's. From the structure and musculature of her hands and face...it was as if a perfectly healthy human woman's body was in a constant frantic battle against death.

My senses expanded to embrace more of my resting place. I was in Katrina's office on the sofa. Katrina was not present. Buffy, the 'senior', Pamela, Rachel, Krasimira, the super-pale chick and two House Guard I didn't recognize were nearby. Despite my head throbbing to the beat of fiendish jackhammers, I managed to sit up. This upset the lady touching me as my movement broke our contact.

"Ishara?" she pleaded.

"That's it. From now on its Yakko Ishara, Wakko Ishara and Dot Ishara. Let's end all of this confusion over this 'which Ishara are we really wanting to talk to?' bullshit. So, what do you want?" I groaned. "I'm claiming the 'Yakko' spot, by the way."

"Ishara?" she pleaded again. Was she protesting me taking the oldest Warner brothers' spot? Yeah, I was the youngest one of the pseudo-divine trio, but I absolutely owned the role of smart-alec.

"She is an Augur," Krasimira explained. "The poisons she takes to put her in a receptive state to the ancestors, goddesses and the spiritual currents of the universe leave her blind and deaf to the mortal world.

She communicates normally, but needs to be touching your lips to know what you are saying. Her name is Tadêfi and she has a message for you," she finished.

"Give me a sec," I put my thoughts together despite my pain. Buffy shoved a glass of water and three pills my way. I downed them gratefully. Buffy was clearly distressed.

I was getting the crap kicked out of me a lot and, in theory, it was her job to stop such things from happening.

"Buffy, we couldn't have foreseen Carrig coming after me the way he did. He slipped through the seams of very good security," I tried to comfort her.

"Pamela shot me on the Goddess/Dot Ishara's orders. She can only communicate with me when I'm in a near-death state," I said. "I have a new mission for you." I needed to keep her mind busy with things other than me. Buffy was action-oriented and I was giving her a doozy of a task.

"Obtain at least five of the bullet casings from the battle that took my Father's life.

Give them to Krasimira. They are to be melted down with the original statue and recast into a new symbol of the Goddess. We will be a melding of the old and the new," I ordered. Yes, I was sacrificing a priceless ancient artifact for a current political agenda. I'm reprehensible. Kimberly would be ashamed. "Now, who were the women whose names I gave you?"

"They are all deceased 'Runners', Ishara," the senior told me. Oh...that made sense.

"Tomorrow we induct them into House Ishara," I stated.

"Ishara, they are dead," senior repeated.

"Do you believe the souls of Amazons go to the houses of their ancestors after dying?" I posed.

That took a few seconds to soak in. My almost albino was getting truly distressed so I took her hand and put it on my lips as I asked the latest question.

"Oh..." the senior and Buffy both muttered.

"All those 'Runners' - their spirits wander aimlessly for eternity bereft of companionship and a place to call home," I told them.

"That is a crime," I continued. "Even as Ishara moves forward, we must be honest about our past. Those women earned a place in the Host. They were unduly denied their promised afterlife and we will start rectifying that tomorrow." Their looks broadcast their interpretation of my declaration: I was a wonderful child who had won first place for our team at the State Fair.

Now that she was back in the communication loop, the augur calmed down.

"You have a message for me?" I 'asked' her. Halfway through, I stopped enunciating.

"Yes, Ishara. My dead sister stepped back through the flames and told me you..." she began.

"No - stop," I told her. "Everyone leave." They honored my wishes and departed except...

"What are you still doing here?" I asked the House Guard who remained. Now that I had a chance to study her, I realized she bore the same cuneiform designation as Krasimira.

"I am her guardian. I am always at her side," the woman explained rather heatedly. She was certainly not a fan of the man in mankind.

"By all means - have it your way. Augur, your message is unimportant. Write it down and have it sent out as a memo for everyone in Havenstone to read. Someone may tell me about it. I'm horrible with my e-mail, so I probably won't read it myself," I growled. This shit stopped now. I stood and made to leave. The augur swatted out and grabbed my arm when she hit it.

"Ishara, you must..." and I lightly slapped her face. The guardian drew down on me.

"How dare you?" the guardian seethed.

"I am thinking the same thing - 'how dare you?'" I rumbled. "How dare you decide what messages she does, or does not, deliver?"

"Tadêfi has something important to tell you," the guardian growled. "Augurs died to bring you this message."

"Clearly the message isn't important enough for you to leave the room," I countered. "I took bullet to the head so I could talk to the Goddess Dot Ishara." I was going to enjoy calling my matron pain-in-the-cranium that. She was probably less amused.

"I'm about out of patience with you smug, delusionary superior sluts demanding things from me as if you weren't my underlings," I glared. "Get with the program, or get out." Though I had told her to get out, I was the one leaving. I needed clothes, a shave and a chance to get my bearings. I didn't need those two.

Tadêfi tried to speak again. I put my hand to her lips to stop her again then raised her hands to my lips.

"I do not want to hear what you have to say," I related. "If you try to tell me what you have been told, I will purposely ignore it and cut out your tongue for your insolence.

Your sisters died in vain because your guardian has decided what you say is not worth her leaving the room for us to talk in private. Sleep well with the dying screams of your sisters' agonies echoing in your mind and know your fellow Amazons have wished this fate upon you. Good-bye."

"How...augurs are sacrosanct and their messages are rare and crucial to the Host," the guardian sputtered.

"Didn't know, don't care and could care less what you think is crucial for the Host," I sighed as I started walking away.

"What is happening?" the augur wailed.

"Her visions are lacerations on her soul," the guardian howled. "Does her pain mean nothing to you?" Those two had to be incredibly tight, the guardian watching the augur scarred and worn down by the task she had been chosen for - and not being able to help.

"Not enough to keep me here," I answered at the door. "She's your buddy, not mine and I have a plateful of unhappiness already set before me." I opened the door.

"Is there a problem?" Krasimira inquired as I stepped out. She had a guardian too. Pamela was also close by and strategically placed to dispose of said guardian.

"Her bodyguard told me to ignore Tadêfi, so I am," I muttered. I hurt. The pain-killers had yet to kick in...and I'd just come out of a coma. Fuck'em.

If Ishara wanted me to nail that girl, she was going to have to step up on her level of assistance aimed my way. I accepted that she had her limitations, but so did I.

"Cáel Ishara, is that precisely what she said?" the Keeper was being diplomatic.

"No...what do I call you?"

"Krasimira, Cáel," she answered. "I do not believe it was Tadêfi's intent to be ignored. May I mediate?"

"No," I replied. "I will talk with Tadêfi alone, or not at all. Quite frankly, half the time you women open your mouths, I want to kick you off the roof of this building. Either I see some damn humility - your words, Krasimira - or I carry on the Amazon tradition with Ishara and her legion of former 'Runners' while the rest of you are throttled by your pride."

Do note that the Executive Services floor was very active and several members heard my statement loud and clear.

"May we please try this meeting one more time?" she requested. Her bodyguard nearly choked on Krasimira's gentle, conciliatory tone.

"I could not consider myself an Amazon and deny the Keeper's suggestion on this matter. Let's give it one more shot," I conceded. All I was asking for was 'nice'. I wasn't deluded into thinking Krasimira was suddenly my fan. She was simply acting on the enlightenment that her ancestors and goddesses had revealed. We headed back into Katrina's office.

As with any divine direction, she knew she had two choices - harm, or heal. She had accepted responsibility that to heal her people, the spirits had chosen a male. Liking me had nothing to do with it. Being true to her oaths and nature as an Amazon were the acting forces here. Amazons survived, first and foremost. They feared nothing, not even change.

Her fellows had denied the need for change based solely on pride and Krasimira recognized that now. Back in Katrina's office, the guardian was trying to calm her nearly hysterical charge. I would have been much happier if we had been more alone. The room had become crowded with ghosts during my short absence. Krasimira, who was following, bumped into me.

"Ishara?" she whispered. As unfortunate as that was, Tadêfi's blind eyes following the fixed stares of all the ghosts in my direction was worse. I squeezed my brain for an appropriate bit of trivia that would put my depression on its butt. There was this movie by M. Night Shakalaka-ding dong (or something like that) about a boy who saw dead people.

The hero - the man trying to help the boy - he turned out to be a ghost as well who didn't figure that out until the end of the flick.

But, it got better. Using the numerous ghostly gazes like searchlights pinning down an escaping convict, Tadêfi ran right into my arms.

That was a pretty remarkable feat - a blind girl in an unfamiliar room covering four meters flawlessly.

But, it kept getting better. All the ghosts started to yammer, clambering for attention. Tadêfi began to weep piteously. I had to wonder if this was Ishara's penalty for keeping my mind free of her meddling.

No one else seemed to understand what the fuck was going on. Krasimira was the augur wrangler, not in tune with the spirits herself. She was also the Supreme Litigator, which necessitated her being able to interact with the mortal world on a constant basis, so I couldn't hold her lack of spiritual mojo against her.

My instincts were telling me that screaming and yelling was pointless. The cacophony was incredibly vexing, but I could deal. Tadêfi couldn't. I was looking at this dilemma from the wrong angle. Instead of taking on the hundreds, I would take on the one. I placed one of the augur's hands on my lips then placed my hands over her ears.

My hope was that since I could interact with the restless dead, my flesh could act as a buffer to their insistent beseeching of us for recognition of their numerous appeals. My first song was one of the melodies sung to me by Oneida's kin while I fought off her Death Pledge. Bit by bit, a tiny fraction followed by the greater whole, I pulled Tadêfi back from the brink of insanity.

Eventually, she began mumbling a different refrain into my chest.

"My ears work better than my lip-reading," I chided her playfully. The ghosts hadn't stopped their pleas for attention. It was the sonic and tactile sensation of my song upon her fingers and the fluctuation of my lungs in pushing forth the music that allowed her to focus on her mortal coil.

As we sang together, eventually with her teaching me a few new ballads, we shut the world out. Once our shared reality collapsed down to just the two of us, the babble diminished then finally faded away.

"May I relay my message now?" Tadêfi requested.

"No, we have to have sex first," I replied. Whoops - shit-storm. What followed was a blur.

"I can't have sex," Tadêfi murmured. "The touch of a man would corrupt me." Plus.

"She is an augur," her guardian declared firmly. "She must remain a virgin." Plus.

"Cáel Ishara, augurs cannot be..." Krasimira's tongue became tied.

"You go, Tiger," Pamela tossed out there.

"Tadêfi, where are you right now?" I began my rotation of responses. "Why does she have to be a virgin? And, thanks Pamela. That was less helpful than normal."

"I aim to disappoint, Cheetah," Pamela smirked. I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was.

She - Tarzan. Me - Cheetah, the Immortal baby chimpanzee. Just what I needed.

"It is the law," the guardian moved to separate us.

"She must not be touched by a man," Krasimira stated. "Not having intercourse is implied. If she has been corrupted, why did the spirits continue to surround her after Cáel's touch?"

"Keeper, this cannot be allowed," the guardian changed her focus.

"I agree in that this is your choice to make," Krasimira countered. "Without knowing the missive, you must decide what your charge may, and may not, do. Your oath is to her personally, not to me or any other entity. Consider what the task of guardian truly is before deciding."

The convoluted decision: what was the chief duty of a guardian - the message, or the messenger? The augur could convey urgency yet was powerless to act without the guardian's permission. She had to trust her guardian with the basics of life. The guardian...she had to trust what could not be sensed, or even fully understood.

"Why...why this condition?" the guardian returned her gaze to me. I could have been a dick.

"Dot Ishara told me to have intercourse with the first woman I saw when I woke up," I said.

"If you hurt her, I will kill you," the Amazon threatened.

"First off, Tadêfi, would you like to fool around?" I might want to get my potential sex partners permission before proceeding. You know; not be a rapist.

"I don't know what you want, but if this is what we must do," Tadêfi acquiesced.

"First time sex is going to be painful, so be prepared," I cautioned both young women.

"If you..." the guardian repeated her threat.

"Cáel, you should give daily thanks I don't leave a trail of dead bodies everywhere you go," Pamela declared with malicious menace.

"So many pretentious bitches - I tell you, my ability to tolerate your forgiving nature is being sorely tested, damn it." Wow, was that totally ass-backwards, or what?

As a side note to life: I was going to receive a serious beat-down the second my sexual tryst ended.

Two pernicious women: Buffy - I had been damaged by someone who wasn't her. There was no way she'd forgive me for that. And Pamela - I had sent Estere away to escort Libra instead of keeping the assassin close. Without a doubt, I had taken Pamela away from some odious errand conducted on my behalf, yet without my knowledge. Yes, some serious torment was headed my way.

Back to the girl at hand. Back to being the 'me' I wanted to be. Oink! With torturous reluctance, the guardian made to leave.

"Wait," I called out. "You can stay if you join us." Yes, I was angling for a three-way with a women who wanted to make line drives with a five iron using my nuts for golf balls...and the blind and deaf girl. I couldn't ignore that weirdness.

I knew what was coming and had planned ahead. I'd slept with women whose mantra was 'I hate you' even as they let me fuck them. Trying to make sense of sex guarantees you being alone, staring into the bottom of a glass, come the bar's closing time. It is a wild, passionate beast, so take what comes your way and hold on tight. For the gratification of the guardian's forthcoming blistering retort I pulled off my loose shirt.

I offered up a finely chiseled physique, laced with scars, in front of a woman who loved physical conditioning and martial challenges, including the residue of the painful outcomes. The scrub-pants came next as the lady bit down on her stammering. More scars on my powerful legs. My hospital booties were no obstacle, so I subtly positioned myself as I took them off to present her my most masculine image.

Gruff, gruff...I was the big, bad wolf about to poach her little lambie and the skilled Amazon huntress had to save the day - by throwing her naked body at me.

"Bang, bang," came the whispered voice of Pamela from the shutting doors. "Looks like Bass." Bitch. Couldn't she see this was clearly mutton, not seafood? Oink. Bow-wow.

"If you misbehave, I will hurt you," the guardian threatened me as her jacket, then gun belt, fell to the floor.

"Do you think I would violate either one of you if the Goddess hadn't directed me to?" Yes, I would and, yes, that was giving her an unprovable explanation for the coitus she was about to partake in.

She didn't care if I was lying. She couldn't deny a Goddess. She HAD to do this as a divine mission. I'm sure that's where her mind ended up as the last of her clothing came off. The next step was having the guardian help me undress the augur, Tadêfi. I was guided to this tactic by the realization that helping Tadêfi keep her clothing neat and orderly was part of her minder's job.

It turned out she'd never seen the augur naked before. Still, it was perfectly natural to look at another person and wonder what they looked like with less clothing on, or naked. Having worked in close proximity to Tadêfi for some time added a 'girl next door' mystique. A new tool in my arsenal was the conspiratorial lure of the 'silent' partner.

"What is your name?" I asked the guardian. Referring to her as 'the guardian' was getting tedious.

"Sikia," she responded. She was of a dusky complexion that spoke of mixed African and European heritage, yet wasn't African-American ... Angola, or South Africa maybe.