Life as a New Hire Ch. 38

"They will expect food, perhaps a look on your faces that tells them they have done well today and they have made you happy. They will expect you to give them orders ... because you allow them nothing else to look forward to. Sometime in the next four days, you will come to these beasts who trust you for every aspect of their survival and you will lead them to some place of disposal and slit their throats.

"You will let them fall to the ground and bleed out. I am curious how many of them will look up at you and wonder what they did wrong to make you that upset with them. They will blame themselves while you patiently wait for their hearts to finish pumping blood out those severed arteries. After that happens, you will dismember them. You will burn the parts. Then you will bury the bone shards and ashes in a trash heap.

"For them, there is no Afterlife – no cliffs – no ancestors. Their souls will awaken all alone in the Black Sands. For most of them it will be the first time in their lives they have ever been truly alone ... They will be scared because they love you and they will want to know what horrible thing they did for you to leave them here alone.

"If there is a blessing, it is that you have not reciprocated a single ounce of their love, or given them no reason to exist without you so they will soon be ground down into the sands they will so briefly trod upon. Then, they will have never been. They will not be remembered. I am sure that by the end of that introspection, I ... I don't know how will feel then, Golden Mare.

"What I do know is that on August 18th, I will be the only one who has a chance of feeling different about what hasn't been done here today." I was still successfully fighting back my true cyclone of emotions.

"How could someone like you kill Ajax?" she shook her head.

"Because none of you could," I frowned. "Because for the past 2500 years, the Host has forsaken the sole prerequisite necessary to ..."

"Shut up," St. Marie glared. "Weep elsewhere. We have work to do."

"I weep for Charlotte ..." I replied.

"Like any one here believes that," she growled ... and then everyone around me had their guns out. St. Marie's wasn't pointed at me. It was pointed past my right elbow. Buffy.

"Buffy, what have I told you about ..." I sighed.

"Buffy Ishara, lower your weapon right now," one of the SD chicks behind me threatened.

"Cáel, she ..."

"Weapon – down – now," I commanded without looking back at her. By the relaxed stance of one of the SD Amazons, Buffy had complied.

"Take her into custody," St. Marie said as she kept her gun pointed at Buffy.

I didn't protest, pout, or threaten a work stoppage. My words would be useless; they didn't understand my tears and I was the Head of House Ishara and Chief Diplomat of the Host, not a self-indulgent prima donna. I believed both St. Marie and Buffy expected me to say something.

"Cáel, she called you a liar," Buffy protested. By the grunts I heard, she was already being restrained.

"Buffy, didn't it occur to you that, despite consistently proving her ignorance of men's emotions in general and being prejudiced against me in particular, the Golden Mare must have been divinely inspired to suddenly know precisely what was on my mind?" I inquired. Sorrow and fury were not the weapons for this task. Mockery was.

"I will let you know what fate I have decided for your Apprentice," St. Marie deigned to inform me. She gave me a dismissive wave of the head.

"Buffy, you should have never believed that that woman's personal opinion of me matters to House Ishara in the slightest," I announced without turning around. "She doesn't have our pedigree."

"I apologize," Buffy responded (to me). I'd tossed her an 'atta girl' in a way that St. Marie couldn't acknowledge as insulting, though it clearly was. The Amazons of House Ishara, to a woman, were all former-Runners.

They loved being members of a First House of the Host, yet they all felt it was a reward for years of struggle and exemplary service, not something that had been handed to them as a birthright. We had turned our weakness – being born outsiders – into our unifying strength. We felt worthy of our honors. Having been dimsissed, I took the opportunity leave without further complications.

Katrina was waiting for me at one of the elevators. She warned the others off, indicating she wanted a private chat with her most notorious intern. The elevator opened. Katrina stepped in and I followed. Nothing was said. She made a quick call and said three unrelated words. She waited for a confirmation before hanging up. Our conversation wouldn't be monitored, or recorded.

"Cáel, I know you are upset and you are disappointed in us," Katrina forced me to look into her eyes. "As someone who cares for you and considers you a friend, I am advising you to let this one go. You have done many incredibly good things and there is still much more you can accomplish. You have always known you can't win every fight."

"The important thing is that you stay in the fight. Please try?" she looked honestly upset. I had to think about that. I had spent much of my life 'letting things go'. I hadn't let things go with Rhada and Madi and look how much that had fucked up my life. I hadn't said 'no' to Rhada when I should have. Brooke ... Casper. I'd been screwing the pooch big time by allowing myself to give a fuck about anyone else.

"Maybe Alal was right?" I whispered. "People want their needs met without sacrifice. They want to blame someone else for their misfortunes. They don't want to be held responsible for their own actions. There will always be wolves and there will always be sheep." he had told me when we parted in Rome.

"We have just left a chamber full of sheep, not wolves," I turned fully toward Katrina. "Like good little sheep, the leadership of the Amazon Host bleated the Party Line and refused to take responsibility for mass murder. They hid behind tradition, Katrina. They hid behind this absurd idea that there aren't other males out there who could be the next Cáel."

"Every man brought into Havenstone should be given the same opportunities each and every 'Runner' has. We all deserve a chance."

"That is bludgeoning a lie with another lie, Cáel. There is no 'other Cáel' out there. You are the last chance the Amazon Host has. Those men have been bred to be the opposite of you."

"When we feel we have passed our usefulness, we end our own existences. It is unfair to think we would keep useless, inbred males around out of some sense of a communal society we have never shared with them. You see this as an evil, callous and brutal gesture. We are an evil, brutal race that hasn't the luxury of being sentimental," Katrina counter-attacked. That she was capable of such unvarnished honesty was something I loved about her.

"We are the smallest Secret Society in the numbers we can bring to bear in a fight. We do not have an extensive network of proxies to work through. Our history, until today, has taught us to be lean in the compassion department. If you battle the past, you will get nowhere. Besides, you did do two thing of value today," she offered.

"You put the fate of our males and the responsibility for their deaths in our Records. Your protest was heard, Cáel. Yes, it was heard because it came from you, Cáel Wakko Ishara. No Amazon has protested the fate of males since the Second Betrayal. Today, someone did. You have to know that means something to us."

She was right, damn her. To the Amazons ... they had allowed me my protest and it was infantile to think they did so to humor me. That wasn't there style. In their cold, heartless eyes, my proposal was worthy of 15 minutes of their time. A tiny number until you considered how much every minute mattered to them.

"What was the other thing?" I asked her.

"You kept to your oaths with us. You didn't even try to vote," she pointed out, "even though you clearly felt passionately about the issue. Amazons expect that from their fellow female Amazons. They are not used to expecting that from males."

I thought about that. In the Amazon mirror-view of society, men were the irrational half of the species, ruled more by passions and illogical aspirations, while Amazons (females) were the creatures of controlled, rational thoughts and actions.

"You also vocally reminded them that you are a man, not some bizarre icon from the Goddesses."

I had a few things beaten into my skull as well. I worked with monsters. Thanks to Katrina, I was also remembering why I did what I did for the Host: – Aya, Daphne, Yasmin ... those three. Maybe Europa. Lorraine was a long shot. Oneida and Rhada ... they were still their mother's daughters.

"Katrina, I apologize. You are right. Short of the sending House Ishara into battle against the other houses to rescue those men, I cannot save them. I can not forget them. I am okay with hating you and all the others for your perpetuating this crime. I'm also okay believing that one day, I'll forgive the Host too.

"It is in my nature and I shouldn't let your crimes inspire so great a hate in me that it poisons my soul. You are still going to atone, Katrina, Head of House Epona," I bolstered my sense of the perverse that passed for strategic thinking. "I want you to retrieve Kwenhamai – Death Song – for me. I've decided I don't want the Amazons you consider virtuous. I want your Sinners. Make it happen."

When I returned to the taskforce, I garnered the same kind of worried stares I'd gotten at the Council meeting. At ten o'clock, Elsa gave me a ring. St. Marie had decided on Buffy's punishment for her crimes: drawing a weapon on the War Leader, and drawing a weapon in the Council Meeting. They were going to sear her left eye socket with a hot poker.

That would allow her to remain a useful Amazon in my House while sending a strong reminder for Amazons to remain civil with one another. I was being informed because, as her House Head, I could appeal the ruling ~ to the Golden Mare, the one who had just passed judgment.

"Let me talk to the Boss," I requested. Elsa patched me through twenty seconds later.

"State your appeal," St. Marie said in an unwelcoming voice. "It won't make a difference, but tradition is tradition."

"Immediately erase the incident in the Council Chambers between you and Buffy. I wanted it erased from the records. You must then repeal the punishment because it is now groundless. If you do that for me, I'll tell you how I killed Ajax. I'll even show you what I did," I offered. Pause.

"I am the War Leader of the Host, Ishara," St. Marie heated-up even more. "You should be telling me this anyway."

"As Chief Diplomat, I only have to tell you, Katrina, or the Council something if it is of relevance to the Host. I deemed that the information wasn't relevant at the time," I countered. "I asked Pamela. She's really good with all your inbred ilk and your damn laws," I kept my voice steady. "Do we have a deal?" I could almost hear her teeth grinding.

"Very well, but don't think I will forget this," she seethed.

"Do I have your word that you will do as I requested for Buffy?" I double-checked.

"Yes, you have my word," St. Marie snapped. "Now how did you kill Ajax?"

"I'll tell you," I relaxed. Pause.

"I'm waiting, damn you," she grumbled. "Let's get this over with. I have important work to do."

"I promised to tell you, St. Marie," I got my measure of revenge. "I never said when I'd tell you though, so you might want to get back to that important work."

"You'll get Buffy back when you tell me," she snapped.

"St. Marie, you gave me your word she would be released immediately," I explained. "While you failed to apply any time table to my side of the bargain," came the kicker.

"You violated the spirit of that oath. It is not binding," she simmered.

"I'm not going to bore you by rehashing the last time Amazons broke an Isharan Oath. I have been spiritually pure with this pledge that I tricked you into for a very good reason, St. Marie. You are not an idiot and neither am I. You did call me a liar in public and you knew I wouldn't lash out ... because you know I didn't give a flying fuck about your opinion of me. No, you knowingly insulted me in in English so that Buffy could understand," I said in a low, steely voice.

"You are more than a match for me as a tactician. As a provocateur – you are not in Katrina's league and she's the Amazon I rate myself against. You have never liked me. I'm fine with that. Taking it out on Buffy ~ don't do it again as it violates the spirit of our Oaths of Sisterhood," I reminded her. I could hear St. Marie's tooth enamel cracking. "Do I have to call every other Head of House over this breach? I believe you've established that threatening to harm another Amazon officer in the Council chamber is punishable by the removal of the secondary eye."

"I am not afraid of pain, Cáel," she growled. "I am afraid that your deceptive ways will cause the Host irreparable harm." Considering she worked closely with the most deceptive woman I'd ever met – Katrina – I felt that was high praise indeed.

"Though I don't think you knew it at the time, St. Marie, you chose me for your Chief Diplomat because I am a slippery fish. Most importantly, I am your slippery fish. Honest, trustworthy diplomats are very limited in their utility."

"I will honor my promise to you," she calmed down slightly. She was conceding the point that she'd chosen me for my untrustworthy ways. She had hoped I'd keep them focused on our enemies, not her.

"I will offer to step down if you desire," I added out of the blue. A few seconds passed.

"I want a time table for you telling me what happened to Ajax," she countered.

"When I get back from Brazil," I promised. "I'll tell you then."

"Why wait?"

"I'm still trying to figure out who the traitor inside the Host is," I answered. "Someone helped the Seven Pillars find our Summer Camp. Someone helped the Condotteiri find the Hylonome as well. Budapest and the fight on the Tisza were the Black Hand's fault and those two loose ends have been dealt with," I related my worries.

"Who do you suspect?"

"I'll have a better idea when I get to Brazil and see what kind of ambush they have waiting for us. The more they are prepared, the smaller the list gets," I said.

"You are knowingly walking into an ambush to find out what our foes know about us?" St. Marie sounded caught unawares by both my cunning and my devotion to our cause.

"Can you think of a better way?"

"No ... when you get back from Brazil?"

"Yes, I will keep my promise then," I reaffirmed. "I promise this to you as well, St. Marie. If you come gunning for anyone else in House Ishara except me, you will never be able to prove that I arranged for a member of the 9 Clans to remove your daughter.... That is not a petulant threat, Golden Mare. The only one acting vindictively against the current interests of the Host this morning was you. Since your own oaths don't seem to be constraining your behavior, I'm giving you my personal promise to consider before you deliberately strike at me through my House Isharan sisters again. Can we both get back to fighting the war now?"

"Katrina has poisoned your thinking, Cáel. Her threatening my offspring was as stupid for her as it is for you," she menaced.

"Parroting your words: 'Your arrogance' has poisoned your thinking of me, St. Marie. Threatening my Buffy was stupid'.

"Your daughter deserves to be treated in the same manner as Buffy and vice versa," I explained. "I will extend to you my offer to replace me as Chief Diplomat. I'll leave quietly if you think you cannot work with me, or trust me to do the best job that can be done."

"No. Both you and Katrina are twisted mockeries of true Amazons," she sighed.

"You are also the right Amazons for the twisted tasks that need to be done. If you ever threaten my daughter again, I will deal with you personally and deal with the fallout when it comes," she cautioned.

"I'll take your word for that." A few seconds passed, then St. Marie hung up.

That was that. I'd get Buffy back, though she wasn't sure why she wasn't out shopping for an eye patch. She would have to understand that I wasn't going to tell her the details of her release this side of some serious pain.

Late that afternoon, I had another meeting with OT. The news was critical, as it all too often was. The largest armored combat action since Kursk was about to begin. In the balance was not only the Khanates only real hope of forcing a ceasefire, but the fate of Tibet as well. That wide right hook across the Tibetan Plateau was reaching its final destination.

On the Southern Flank of the PLA, six of the eleven Khanate Tumens plus six supporting Mechanized Divisions were trying to turn the Chinese Southern Flank. Against them, the PLA had mustered three Reserve Armored Divisions, three Reserve Mechanized Brigades, one Regular Armored Brigade and nine Reserve Infantry Divisions.

The Tumens' goal was Xining, the capital city of Qinghai Province and the southern supply artery to the PLA's Western Army Front. On the Northern flank, two of the four remaining Tumens, one armored brigade and one infantry division had to punch through along a shorter front against one Regular Mechanized Division, five Reserve Infantry Divisions and one Regular Armored Brigade. Their goal was the town of Gulang in Gansu Province, the nexus of the northern supply artery.

If the powerful Southern thrust could link up with the Northern attack, they would isolate 350,000 PLA troops (20% of their current army) in a pocket they couldn't fight their way out of. If they failed to link, the Khanate was done for. Unless they could cut off that Gansu/Qinghai Salient, the Khanate would be left with an untenable border and not nearly enough troops left to hold it.

The majority of my concern for that Wagnerian Cauldron was taken away from me. When I unloaded the latest info on Riki, Fathom and Javiera they all smiled, nodded and informed me that I was taking the next 24 hours off. I didn't want to because I really didn't know what to do with my life, at the moment.

Then they informed me that I was going to spend the morning with Aya and her Fatal Squirts. That, I could do. I called Aya to make sure this was something she wanted to do. I had the feeling she might not have been consulted. She had been 'told' that I was coming by to see her tomorrow morning at the park adjacent to the private school she attended.

We'd hang out for a few hours, catch some lunch then drive out to Doebridge for some Amazon-style training. I told her that I couldn't wait to see her. Sagely, she said that meant I must be in a bad way. I laughed, she beamed a happy 'see you soon' and I crashed out for some much needed rest. In the morning, over breakfast, we got some good news.

India's two carrier fleets had set sail. They were marshalling near the Nicobar Island in the eastern end of the Bay of Bengal. Beyond that lay the Malacca Straits and the much disputed resources of the South China Sea. Her diplomats were burning the midnight oil with their counterparts in the Vietnamese and Malaysian governments and armed forces.

In New Delhi, the Chinese and Russian Ambassadors to India were both trying to woo the Worlds' largest democracy to their differing sides. Alerted to this through Booth-gan operatives, the US and UK (through the offices of the EU) were doing a bit of wooing of their own. Once more, it was the same for Nations as it was for people; India's Intelligence Service was on the 'inside' of the information curve, thanks the JIKIT.

For me it was bed. Around nine pm Javiera Castello showed up in my room. She was kind enough to leave the lights off, letting the passive light from the cityscape provide the illumination. Before she could say a word, she started to yawn.