by C. M. Lance
They navigated to Rick′s favorite burger shop. It turned out to be the Amazons′ as well. Their diet also tended toward animal flesh, although not as heavily as Rick′s. They chided Sig for all of the vegetables he ordered on his burger, tomatoes, lettuce, grilled onions, and jalapenos.
"I told you that stuff isn′t food," Rick said.
Bella chimed in, "Right, it′s what food eats."
Sig smiled and plucked a jalapeno off his burger and ate it plain. "Have you ever tried one of these? You should try it before you knock it, or are you afraid to try?"
"Afraid of a pickle? Give me a break," Giselle scoffed.
"These are especially flavorful pickles. Go ahead try it." He pulled six fresh jalapenos out of his burger and placed two on each of their dishes, making sure the ones he selected contained plenty of seeds. "Go ahead, unless you′re afraid of vegetables. You need at least two to get the full flavor." He took a long sip of his milk shake. The jalapenos were fiery.
Bella picked one up. "What are these things?"
"Japanese pickles, japalenos." Sig picked another one out for himself. "C′mon. All together now." He popped one and they followed suit.
He watched the two girls from Minnesota and the Were from the UP chew the jalapenos. He struggled to keep a straight face as they each stopped chewing, eyes widening, and starting to tear.
A slow smile spread across his face. "Vegetables are what food eats, huh? How about a vegetable that eats animals, from the inside out?" He continued smiling as he picked up another and ate it.
Bella and Giselle drank deeply from their sodas, and then drank again. Rick wiped his tongue and then gulped down his glass of water. Tears ran down their cheeks.
Sig took pity on them. "Here, sodas and water aren′t very effective at putting out the burn. Dairy products are best. Drink this." He offered them his shake.
Rick grabbed it and took along pull. "That′s better."
Bella hit him on the shoulder and extended her hand to grab for the glass. "Give." She hissed.
They passed the shake around until the fire died down.
Bella glowered at him. "You′ll be lucky if she gives you a ride home." She nodded at Giselle.
Rick looked at Sig′s burger. "How did you eat those japalenos, do you know a trick?"
Sig smiled again. "For a ride, I′ll tell you the secret."
Giselle smiled. "OK."
"I grew up eating them. They′re Jalapenos. A Mexican pepper. Either you acquire immunity with practice, or you like the taste enough that you suffer through it. Even so, those were about the hottest I′ve tasted. I don′t figure people from rural Minnesota and the UP encounter them much."
"But you′re from rural Minnesota."
"My Grampa introduced them to us. Every time we went to the Cities, we′d pick them up." Sig′s smile faded. He′d seen Grampa yesterday. His condition hadn′t changed—alive, but not quite.
Rick jumped into the silence. "Let′s finish up here and get over to the Game Room. Dart league tonight."
They piled into Giselle′s car and drove to the Game Room where Sig first met the Amazons. Inside, they joined Arianna. She sat at a table by herself.
"I saved the table for you. I hoped you′d come here. What do you think about your mother coming into town?"
Giselle exclaimed, "My mother. You′re kidding. Tell me you′re kidding."
"Nope, she′ll be here next week."
"Why is the Commander coming?"
Arianna shrugged, raised her eyebrows, and gestured with her head sideways toward Sig. "The Commander doesn′t need a reason."
Sig had been talking with Rick about darts and overheard parts of the conversation. "You′re mom′s coming? That′s great. Does she come to Chicago often?"
"This will be the first time that I know of."
"She didn′t come when you checked out the college?"
"No, the Training Master brought us."
"Training Master?"
"Amazon culture is different from what you′re used to." She sighed. "Apparently it′s different from what most people are familiar with."
"I′d like to learn more about it."
Catalina, another Amazon strolled up to the table. "I hear the Commander will be here to check out the man who′s whipping up on her warriors."
Giselle rolled her head and eyes toward the ceiling. "Oh, crap, great, that′s just great."
She looked at Sig. "Maybe you should stop working out with the girls, at least for a week or two until my mother leaves."
"Why?"
"C′mon, let′s go someplace quieter. You′re getting your wish. One way or another, you′ll learn more about Amazon culture." She got up and headed for the door.
Sig looked around. Everyone at the table looked at him. He jumped up and followed Giselle out.
He caught up with her outside. She leaned against the building.
"You call your mom 'Commander′?"
She pushed off the building and started walking. Sig hurried to catch up.
She glanced sideways at him. "I call her Commander because she′s the elected head of our tribe. We don′t use the term 'queen′ anymore, since we split into tribes, and chief has too many masculine connotations, so she′s Commander."
"Not mom?"
"We don′t develop parent child bonds like you′re used to. The tribe raises the young. We have specialists for various duties. We find it efficient."
Sig nodded, "Efficient… interesting."
"Now she′s coming to check you out."
Sig stopped and looked incredulously at her back. She continued walking for a few more paces. "Check me out?" He asked.
She turned and walked back. "I should have expected this. I didn′t think much of it when you asked to spar, but you′ve been holding your own, more than holding your own. You′ve been teaching us. It′s hard to keep something like that from the Commander."
"She wants to watch a match?"
"I suspect she feels she has to defend the tribe′s honor. She′ll probably fight you."
"I′m not fighting anyone′s mother."
She gave him a wry look. "You don′t want to fight my sixty-six year old mother?"
"Sixty six? Of course I don′t want to fight her."
"She′ll kick your ass." Giselle said confidently.
Taken aback, Sig said, "What?"
"Amazon′s reach their peak of power after many years. The Commander came into hers about five years ago, shortly before she became our leader. She′s as strong as Bella and Arianna combined, faster, and more skilled. Oh yeah, she′ll kick your butt."
Sig enjoyed working out with the Amazons. Despite what she said, he knew he just held his own and only because he improved right along with them. Sure, he taught them things, but he learned as well.
He had improved, but enough to hold his own with someone stronger, faster, and more experienced than his sparring partners?
"She′s really that much better?"
"My mother bench presses four hundred and fifty pounds. That was last year. She may be stronger now."
Sig shut his mouth with a snap when he realized it hung open.
"Now do you understand my suggestion that you retire from sparring for a little while?"
Sig nodded slowly. "Yeah, probably good advice, but I can′t back down or I′ll always be backing down."
"Not a surprise. Not wise, but not a surprise."
She turned to walk back to the Game Room. After a moment, he followed her. What had he gotten himself into?
"You failed me. I should send you back to your mother," growled the Dark Mage.
"Please, not that. My brothers are too mean. Please, let me stay," whimpered Dmitri.
"You lost the demon′s egg. Do you realize how long it took to get it?" shrieked the Wizard. "Do you know what promises I made, what I had to give up?"
Dmitri hung his head.
"How can I ever trust you again?" The Dark Mage asked.
Dmitr
i hung his head further. "Please give me another chance. I won′t fail you again."
"He defeated you. He destroyed my egg. I found it for my gateway to defeat the Battle Wizards," the Wizard screamed.
"But he′s so big, so fast, and so strong. You never told me."
The Mage whispered, "I shouldn′t have to tell you everything. Take off your shirt." He opened a cupboard, withdrew a braided whip with a forked tip, and laid it on a table.
Dmitri moaned as he stripped off his jacket and shirt.
The Wizard screeched, "Strip off your pants. Grab the shelves." He took up the whip and cracked it.
Dmitri sniveled as he stood above old bloodstains soaked into the wooden floor and clutched the bookshelves. The Wizard wielded the whip until his arm ached and Dmitry collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
He put the whip back in the cupboard, rubbed his arm, and then cackled. "I feel better now."
The Dark Mage mused, "What is the next step now to destroy the Battle Wizard? Andras again?"
Sig swayed back so far to dodge a kick; he had to stop his fall with a hand to the floor. He used it to bounce up and catch Arianna′s leg at the ankle as she pulled back. To straighten up, he pulled on her leg, and then lifted it up, pulling her off her feet. Shoving back and down, he slammed her upper back onto the mat. While she lay slightly stunned, he twisted her leg, to flop her over and dropped a knee into her kidneys. His other leg broke his descent to prevent injuring her.
He stood, pressed his palms together and bowed to her, then extended a hand to help her up.
"Thanks" she said, pulling on his hand to rise. Then she looked over his shoulder and said "Shit."
Sig smiled. "You were predictable again. I took advantage. That′s the problem with sparring someone frequently. You pick up tendencies that aren′t detected in a random bout."
Still looking over his shoulder, she hissed, "Quit babbling. It′s the Commander."
Sig swung around to get his first sighting of the old woman everyone feared.
He looked around and didn′t see her. He looked right and left— no old lady.
He asked Arianna, "Where is she?"
A tall, extremely attractive redhead he hadn′t met before asked him, "Where′s who?"
Sig looked up into her sapphire blue eyes. At least six-feet-four inches tall, long muscles layered over her shapely form. She exuded an air of confidence. Hot was a good one-word description.
"The Commander? Arianna said she′s here."
She extended her hand, "Hello. They call me 'Commander′, but you can call me Rowena."
Sig looked at her hand for a moment, before he took it. "I′m starting to get used to the taste of shoe leather. Pleased and surprised to meet you." Her grip was firm and warm.
After a throaty chuckle, she said, "I must say I′m surprised as well. Your smaller than I imagined, and prettier."
Sig flushed crimson. "Do you know professor Balcescu?"
"Only by reputation. Why do you ask?"
"You momentarily reminded me of her."
She arched her eyebrows and looked at him reflectively.
Sig realized he still held her hand. He released it and stood back, still embarrassed. He wished she hadn′t said that in front of all the other women.
She gave him a crooked smile. "You have very good technique and exceptional quickness. I′ve been looking for an accomplished sparring partner. Would you like to try a few falls?"
"How about tomorrow? I have to go to work now."
"I look forward to it."
He looked around and saw Giselle in the back of the group watching. He waved to her. "Don′t leave without me. I′ll change and be right out."
†††
Giselle waited in her idling Jeep when Sig exited the training facility. He threw his bag in the back, and got in beside her. She threw it into gear and accelerated away.
He looked straight ahead as he said, "Sixty-six years old, huh? She′s remarkably well preserved. What′s her secret, skin cream?"
Giselle chuckled. "That′s my mother." She looked over at Sig. "She′ll look like that until she′s two hundred. It′s Amazon magic."
"Amazon′s have magic too? Jeez, everyone has magic except me." He slouched in his seat.
"Pardon me? What do you call it when you turn into that gigantic hunk that demolishes All-America football players?"
"You know what I mean. I′m supposed to have more magic. I work on it with the Professor every day. I need to find it to fight the Dark Mage who wants to kill me."
"I think you′re lucky to have what you have. The Professor thinks the rest will come with time, as it does with us. I′m still waiting."
"Really, he said that?"
She gave him a crooked smile. "What— that I′m still waiting?"
"No, the other… Never mind. You′re right, I am lucky. I used to wish for any kind of magic, and now I have this— and it′s more than I ever dreamed about. I get so frustrated working on what I don′t have that I forget to give thanks for what I do. Thanks for reminding me. What′s Amazon magic like?"
"It′s more subtle than yours. Aging slowly, being stronger and faster than normals. We have group magic. That′s why we stay in tribes. Amazons who leave the tribe age faster and are weaker. But then, it also makes the tribe weaker when someone leaves." She frowned.
"Is it like the power of a coven?"
"Please don′t ever compare us to witches again." He looked at her profile. Her jaw flexed and she compressed her lips.
"Sorry, I′ll never do it again. I′m still learning magic etiquette. So, can your tribe do any other magic?"
She remained silent for a while. At a stop light, looking straight ahead she said, "If I told you that I′d have to kill you." She turned and looked at him. The way she looked, he decided she might be serious. Maybe the CIA got the saying from the Amazons. After all, they′ve been around a lot longer.
†††
As Sig parted from Giselle in the lab hallway, she smiled at him. Maybe she wasn′t pissed about the witch comparison.
Randy Wheatley, the research section head he worked for, had assigned Sig the task of documenting work done to make windmills more efficient. As Randy explained, windmills are most efficient within a band of wind speeds. Unfortunately, no one informed the wind about it.
Windmill designers contemplated operating efficiently within a broad band of conditions using pivoting blades to change the pitch. Still, many days didn′t fit the model, even in ideal locations. Calm days resulted in little to no electrical output. In excessive wind conditions, windmills 'feather′—the blades pivot to be parallel to the airflow. It prevents damage but reduces electrical output.
Some magic practitioners specialize in wind control. Wheatley′s section recruited a few to determine what affect they could exercise on wind and windmills.
Dottie, the wind witch, already lounged in a canvas beach chair on the rooftop from which they conducted experiments when Sig carried three laptop computers up that he used to record measurements. The table next to Dottie held a large glass of clear liquid and ice. A small drink umbrella and a straw stuck out of it. The rotund, elderly witch with an easygoing disposition claimed it contained water and Sig took her word for it.
"Hi Wendy," Sig called as he plugged the computers into the measurement station harnesses.
She giggled while he fiddled with plugs and power switches. When they first met, she introduced herself as Dottie the wind witch. Sig told her, "You should change your name to Wendy the Wind Witch. Then you can tell everyone that′s what the 'www′ in Internet addresses stands for." The idea delighted her and she told friends that she planned to change her name.
Sig downloaded Doppler radar readings to calibrate air mass movement measurements. He reviewed these with Dottie and she told him what changes she would produce. Sig recorded their discussion and current readings to compare the before and after results of Dottie′s magic.
After an hour, meas
urements revealed that a pressure system had shifted in an unexpected direction. This would improve airflows for local windmills. More importantly, Dottie had planned the movement earlier.
While Sig collected the laptops, Dottie hung around to chat. "You told me that moving large scale air masses is more efficient than channeling gusts of wind through the windmills. Why is that?" Sig asked.
"Gusts of wind don′t last long enough to be effective. They can be showy." She gestured and the five-by-eight notebook that Sig brought out with the computers blew off the measurement bench. With pages fluttering, it tumbled to the edge of the roof before it stopped. "But that little amount of wind would have almost no effect on the huge windmills. I can generate a gust big enough to move a windmill, but I couldn′t do it very long. However, carefully steering wind masses gets more bang for the buck. Once I get the wind mass moving correctly, it takes care of spinning the blades."
"Is making wind blasts like throwing lightning?"
"Oh no, lightning control requires a much higher order of power. It takes great strength to control all the power in lightning. Nudging air masses is one thing, but only highest order wizards control lightning. Or those who practice the black."
"Black magicians control lightning? Why can they do it and not other magicians and witches?"
"They don′t use their own power. They borrow power." Her hazel eyes searched his. "You don′t want to be owing those they borrow from." She shook her head. "No, they collect their debts with interest."
"Demons?"
"And worse. If you ever encounter a black sorcerer throwing lightning, and live, you′ll remember the smell of hellfire."
"It smells awful. It leaves a bad taste for hours."
She looked at him sharply, with a frown. "You′ve been around dark magic?"
"Yes, with my Grampa. We got away from a dark wizard, but now Grampa′s in a coma."
She put a hand on Sig′s forearm. "My good wishes are with him." She patted his arm and left him to finish up.
She paused at the stairway from the roof, made a gesture, and a wind arose to slide Sig′s notebook back across the roof. It stopped at his feet.
He looked down at it and then at the closing stairway door. He heard her giggling laughter, before the door shut and cut it off.
