The Mother Warrior

by Marilyn Donnellan

  “I have something I would like to talk to you about. The only people I wish were here are Stephen, Mac, Herbert, Mateo and Juan, who I count along with you as my closest friends and family. You never forgot about me, even when you did not know if I was dead or alive.” She swallowed hard but continued.

  “Most of you know enough about what has happened to me in the past fifteen to twenty years so what I have to say may not come as a surprise. If it is, I hope you will understand and support my decision, even if you do not agree with it.” She took a deep breath.

  “First I was the White Warrior and then forced into becoming a slave. But, I am no longer the Slave Warrior and I have decided to no longer be the White Warrior. I am tired of killing. I am done with it. I have done enough of it to last me for two or three lifetimes. Don’t get me wrong. I still support the Book Liberator’s cause, and I always will. It is just that I cannot be a part of the killing any longer. I know my beloved Bryan would have hated that part of what we do as much as I did.”

  There were murmurs around the table as they tried to fathom what it meant for the Book Liberators. Brogan was one of the founders. What did she mean when she said she would no longer be the White Warrior?

  “I spent the past two years, since I escaped the slave camp, not only trying to get back to all of you, but also trying to figure out a different path to take. There must be a way to rebuild our country which does not include violence; a better way. And I intend to find it. I don’t expect anyone in this room to leave the BL rebel army as I take the next step. If you decide to join me on this new adventure, great. If you decide to stay with the rebels, that’s fine, too. It must be your decision. No one understands better than I the necessity for destroying evil. I just cannot try to defeat violence with violence anymore.

  “Right now, I’m not exactly sure what my next step is going to be. I only know I will be saying the same thing at the council meeting later this week. And I wanted you to know what I intend to say before I speak to them. My next step after the meeting will depend a lot on how they respond to what I say. I sincerely hope they do not see me as a traitor to the cause but will allow me to support the cause in my own way; a different way.”

  She paused for a moment as he found herself struggling to explain how she felt. Then she remembered the women in the slave camp; women who became her friends; women who became peace warriors with her.

  “Maybe you will better understand if I tell you a story about a woman in the slave camp with me. Her name was Eulalie. When I first met her, she did not like me very much. In fact, at one point, she tried to kill me.

  “She had been in the slave camp longer than anyone; almost eight years. She had two brutal abortions because Sheriff Boldegard prohibited children in the camp; plus, pregnant women were useless in the produce fields. As you can imagine, Eulalie was filled with hate, anger and a need for revenge. And for good reasons.

  “I started teaching the women in secret how to read and write. At first Eulalie resisted, but after I forgave her when she tried to kill me, she gradually came around and started taking the classes. As she began to learn, she began to change. She became less angry and less interested in revenge against the sheriff, the camp guards and those who had done such terrible things to her.

  “About a year before we all decided to escape from the camp, Eulalie got very sick from swamp fever. She knew she was dying. Mother Clea, a Creole healer in our camp, tried everything to help her, but nothing was working. Eulalie asked to see me, just before the Sheriff dragged her out of the camp to be shot because she couldn’t work anymore.”

  Brogan’s eyes filled with tears and she struggled to make her voice work as she remembered the last words of the woman who turned from enemy to friend. She cleared her throat and continued as she looked around the table at each member of her beloved family.

  “Eulalie said to me, ‘You have been the White Warrior and now you are the Slave Warrior. But you must become the Mother Warrior to teach everyone a different way; a way of love and peace. Not a way of hate and revenge and killing’.”

  She swallowed again and continued. “After that, everyone stopped calling me the Slave Warrior and began calling me Mother Warrior. We started planning how to escape. And that’s exactly what we did a year later.”

  She suddenly sat down, exhausted from the effort it cost her to pour her heart out on something she had been thinking long and hard about. She bowed her head, stung by the heavy silence in the room. Suddenly, there was the sound of one person clapping, and then another, and another. She looked up in surprise to see everyone around the table was standing and applauding. Tears filled her eyes at their unexpected and loving response. Her heart lifted at their visible sign of support and love. Suddenly they were all crowding around her, hugging and murmuring words of encouragement. Only Emily seemed to hang back. In the excitement, Brogan failed to notice her response.

  Although she intended to go by herself to the next council meeting, the family refused to allow her to go alone. They were all family, even if not by blood, by deed. Marco and Allison arranged for the twins to stay with the nanny. Allison took a few days off from the hospital and everyone boarded the train a few days later, headed for Mexico City to support Brogan’s new direction.

  Chapter Twelve

  Top Secret Stuff

  “Professor! Professor!” The voice persisted in interfering with his thought process. Maybe if I just ignore them they will go away, he thought to himself. But, no such luck. With a big sigh, Herbert looked up from what to anyone else would be a bewildering array of electronics surrounding him on all sides in the research lab on the rebel base in Mexico City. Standing at the door of his lab was General Juan Veracruz.

  “What?” the professor asked grumpily. “What do you want?”

  “I have some good news for you. Somebody’s here who wants to see you.”

  “All I want from you is to be left alone. I’m right in the middle of something and I told that no-good research assistant out front to not let anyone disturb me.”

  “I think you will want to see this person, Professor. And since I took the time to deliver her myself, the least you can do is come out of your research cave and see who I’m talking about.”

  By this time, the general was used to Professor Herbert Schneider’s grumpy attitude when he was deep into a research project, so he didn’t take it personally.

  With a huge sigh, much bigger than his diminutive size, the professor slipped off his rubber gloves and safety goggles and shuffled to the door. Just as he got to the door, he looked up.

  “Oh, my God, Brogan!” he squeaked in shock. “How are you?”

  Brogan grabbed the professor and hugged him so fiercely, she lifted him off his feet. “I am so glad you survived, Herbert. And I understand you are doing great work for the Book Liberators rebel army. How are you?”

  When Brogan put him back on his feet, the professor stood there, his mouth open, looking up at her. Although she looked a bit haggard and very thin, it was the White Warrior, the woman responsible for totally changing his dull, boring life as the emperor’s computer repairman to the head of the rebel army’s electronics division.

  “I’m fine,” as he started to stutter. “Bu-u-u-t-t-t where did you come from? We all thought you were dead.”

  “Oh, that’s a long story. One we can talk about over dinner some evening. I just stopped by to say, ‘Hello.’ and see how you are doing. Glad you made it down the Mississippi in one piece,” she said with a smile.

  “I’m doing extremely well, thank-you. You do look at bit worn around the edges, however. How are you doing?”

  “Much better, thank you. Just recovering from a bout with the Dengue Fever and a broken ankle, but otherwise right as rain.”

  That’s when Herbert realized Brogan was leaning on a crutch, her foot in a gel boot-cast.

  “Oh, my! Let me get you a chair.”

  “No, no. I’m fine. I’m on my way to a meeting with the rebe
l council but wanted to stop by and see you first. Glad to hear you are doing well. Maybe in the next few days we can chat. I want to hear all about those secret projects Juan told me about.”

  “I would love that, White Warrior.” He stopped speaking as he saw a shadow pass over Brogan’s face and then a small smile.

  “FYI, I’m not the White Warrior anymore. I’ve given that up. By the way, I would really like you to attend the council meeting if you can. It would mean a lot to me.” She gave a little smile and wave and turned to leave.

  What did she mean she was no longer the White Warrior?

  Before he could ask her, she was gone.

  The general stayed behind and whispered to Herbert, “The meeting is actually in the auditorium. See you on stage.”

  I’ll bet there’s a story somewhere in Brogan’s statement, he thought to himself. Herbert shook his head and started to go back to his electronics’ labyrinth. He was thrilled she was alive. Like everyone else, he was sure she died in the hazardous journey down the Mississippi.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Brogan about his two exciting projects, projects which might turn things around for the rebels. His little vid-pod was helping the rebels communicate, but his other two top secret projects could have even greater impact. He had not given anyone the details on what he was working on. He didn’t want anyone to know until he had worked out the kinks on both. And, since Brogan was the one responsible for getting him safely out of the clutches of the emperor, plus saving his life a couple of times, he decided on the spur of the moment he wanted her to be the first one to hear about them.

  The project he was currently working on in the lab, which the general so rudely interrupted, was the development of an artificial intelligence machine the size of the vid-pod. If he could shrink the circuit board components to the size he needed, it would be revolutionary in terms of instant decision making. He wanted it to be capable of insertion into everything from military machines and even hand-held pods for ease of use. It could provide intelligence to the user without having to undergo the I-chip implant.

  Unfortunately, he was operating from a huge lack of information. So much AI research was lost during WWIII. It sometimes felt like he was starting from scratch. But he was making progress. His goal was to build a truly autonomous miniature AI.

  The other project, which should turn the tide on defeating the emperor’s forces, was the development of gamma ray weapons. Based on his knowledge of nuclear physics, he started thinking about this when the emperor tried to get him to develop a nuclear bomb. What if instead of a nuclear bomb, he could develop hand-held weapons that disbursed gamma rays? And that thought triggered a whole new range of ideas and research.

  Both projects could make a huge difference in the rebel fight. He was confident Brogan would be excited by what he was doing and maybe lobby the general to give him more resources to get them from the drawing table to the manufacturing stages. He was confident Marco’s dad would provide the financing.

  Marco Senior was a man with seemingly unlimited finances, a passion to help the rebels, and a forward-thinking attitude. Now, if he could build prototypes for both projects, he would be all set to show Marco Senior. He started to get involved in his labyrinth of circuit boards, but remembered the general asked him to attend the council meeting. As much as he wanted to focus on his work, he could not deny his request. He sighed, looked around his lab, again removed his goggles and gloves, unplugged a few things and shuffled reluctantly toward the auditorium.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Before the Betrayal

  After the escape through the mountains with Frank, Emily and Mateo, Stephen went back to work training rebel recruits in Mexico City. He was re-energized knowing his son’s partner, Brogan, was going to be okay. She and his granddaughter, Emily, were the only family he had left. He felt a strong sense of obligation to his murdered son to carry on the Book Liberators’ mission to destroy the emperor and restore the lost freedoms of religion, reading, writing, and so much more. He was resolved to make sure everything he did now be in Bryan’s memory.

  He was excited at the possibility of Brogan’s return to the leadership of the rebels. She had such phenomenal leadership skills. Even the general lacked her ability to sway the rebels the way she did before she disappeared.

  About a month after his return to Mexico City, General Veracruz called him into a meeting in his office with Max. It was all a bit hush-hush, so he wasn’t sure what was going on. He guessed it had something to do with the upcoming council meeting, which he was directly involved in. He was right. Now the rest of the council would find out what they had discussed.

  The general, who was still as trim and muscular as he was when he first met him after Bryan’s death, sat at the head of a conference table. Only a bit of gray on his temples indicated more than a dozen years passed since their first meeting. Also seated at the table were the other twenty plus members of the rebel council, including citizen representatives from the city. He found a spot to sit and waited for the general to speak. The murmurs died down as Juan started to talk.

  “Folks, I’m sure by now you have all heard Brogan Finlay-Douglass, one of the original founders of Book Liberators and the first White Warrior is alive.”

  Before he could say anything else, the room erupted in cheers and applause.

  “All right, all right. Hold it down,” he said with a big grin. “Yeah, it’s great news. And, she has agreed to speak to us at our regular meeting tomorrow. For those of you who have never met her, or heard her speak, you are in for a real treat. I’m not exaggerating when I say, Brogan is probably the most persuasive speaker and charismatic leader I ever met.

  “She is still weak and recovering from a major bout with Dengue Fever and a broken ankle. Let’s help her out by not bombarding her with a lot of questions about where she has been for the past dozen years when you see her, okay? All you need to know is she spent ten years in a slave camp.

  “However, I do think a celebration in honor of her return would not be out of order. In fact, I’ve asked Stephen to oversee putting something together. And he tells me, as usual, he’s passed the buck to our administrative assistant, Sally Holbrook.”

  Laughter greeted the comment and Stephen stood and bowed, “Hey, listen. I know when I’m outranked and outgunned and that’s the case with Sally. Oh, before she overviews everything, mums the word. We want to surprise Brogan, okay? Sally, why don’t you brief everybody on what we have planned.”

  The general could resist. “Don’t you mean what Sally has planned?”

  Stephen grinned and nodded his head in acknowledgement to Sally. She was a tall, thin woman about the same age as Stephen and the mother of a rebel killed during the Missouri massacre. Her husband also died in the battle. She wore her long, auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her clothes were always conservative looking. Today she wore a brown tunic. It looked good against her pale skin. She was fiercely committed to the cause and made herself invaluable at the rebel headquarters.

  Stephen, Max and the general, all tended to be rather disorganized, but Sally managed to keep them in line. Steve knew her professionally, but not a lot about her personal life.

  “Okay, everybody, listen up,” she ordered in a loud voice over the murmuring voices. “Here’s what we have planned.”

  Stephen began to tune out since he was confident Sally had everything under control. All he had to do was simply go with the flow. She would let him know if there was anything he needed to do. He let his mind wander a bit as he thought about ways to have Brogan energize the new recruits.

  He was finally shaken from his mental musings when everyone in the room stood up and started to leave. Oops. Wonder what I missed? he thought to himself.

  Sally walked up to him with a bemused expression on her face. “I really appreciate your volunteering to help me,” she said with a rare grin.

  “What?” Stephen stammered. “What did I volunteer for? My mind was wandering
. Sorry.”

  Sally couldn’t help it; she laughed gleefully. “Don’t worry. You didn’t volunteer for anything. I just noticed you weren’t paying attention, so I had to give you a hard time.”

  She is quite pretty when she smiles, he thought in surprise. Maybe there is more to her than I thought. He looked at her with a sheepish grin.

  “Sorry about that, Sally. I was just trying to figure out how best to incorporate Brogan into our rebel training program. What did I miss?”

  “Not much. Just an overview of tomorrow’s plans. I did want to ask if you would do the intro of Brogan since she was your son’s partner.”

  “Sure, I’d be glad to. Just give me the high sign when it’s time.” He cocked his head and then asked, “Any chance you might want to have a drink with me; maybe dinner after? I don’t suppose you are free tonight, are you?”

  Sally look startled and then smiled. “What brought this on?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’d like to get to know you better, that’s all. We’ve worked together for a while, but I don’t feel like I really know you. And, I’d like to change that. What do you say?”

  Sally shrugged. “Okay. Drinks and dinner. Tonight, is fine. How about we meet at Corelli’s at 7 pm?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”

  Stephen headed back to the training ground, a spring in his step. He had not dated at all since his partner, Alice, died of a heart attack in Las Vegas more than 15 years ago. Maybe it was time. He would do another round of training with some new recruits, go to his apartment, shower and change into a clean tunic before his dinner date. Things were turning around: a new friendship which might turn out to be more and Brogan was coming back to lead the rebels.