Abigail Yamamoto’s (fka Jorgensen) mouth had dropped open. “Cousin. I thought you said I could help with your wedding.”
“We will have a ceremony when there is time, when all this…Sturm und Drang is done with.”
Aleks Smirnov had cocked an eyebrow. “What was the sudden hurry, as if I did not already know.”
“As Abigail said about Ichiro. The thought of dying without knowing and realizing his love and passion was unthinkable. Now, I know we'll be together forever, even in Valhalla.”
Sandra Paul, Madam President of the Unoccupied States of America, reached over with a smile and squeezed the Shield Maiden’s hand.
“I am so very happy for you. I guess I owe you a wedding present.”
Brynhildr shrugged. “It was a simple ceremony. Grandma Munsen officiated as an Official of the Old Religion. Here, around my neck is the wedding band. I’ll put in on my hand after I know there will be no battle.”
Abigail looked at it and smiled. “It is beautiful. Is that a cross on it?”
“Thor’s Hammer. We are bound as Warriors as well as husband and wife.”
Aleks had smirked a bit. “So, you had to know his passion, his love? Nothing before two nights ago?”
Brynhildr had looked at her cousin Abigail.
“Our Avenging Angel has set a high bar to follow. I was no virgin, I will not lie. But I and Rolf had decided we should wait, to make it…special.”
“Was it?” Aleks the Russian Spy pressed.
For the first time ever, Abigail saw a dreamy look in her cousin’s eyes.
“You have no idea.” All four women began to laugh loudly at this, personnel in the other dining room wondering what the big joke was. Madam President looked at the three much younger women, her eyes a bit moist.
“Three young women, now all with loving husbands. What could be better?”
Abigail had grasped Sandra Paul’s hand. “My number one of many mothers, I wished your husband was here physically. But I know he watches over you from the beyond. I feel it in my bones, in my heart.”
Sandra squeezed Abigail’s hand. “You three are daughters every mother would wish for. Now, we are together as a family unit to perform a very special mission. I’d like to say a little prayer. Brynhildr, it will not involve Thor…”
“He is here nonetheless, Madam President. For we are about to enter possible battle.”
Abigail interrupted. “I…composed something I think fits this situation very nicely.”
“Well, please, my dear. Have at it. It is probably better than this older woman can come up with.”
Abigail had blushed a bit, reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Well, here goes. I hope you won’t all laugh or run screaming.’
“As always,” said Aleks. “My adopted little sister is too hard on herself. Please, begin.”
Abigail cleared her throat, then began.
Blessed are Women
Whose Hearts and Souls
Are Joined Together by Laughter and Tears.
Who Fight for Life, Against All Fears.
Who Face Evil, With Blades of Steel.
Because They Shall Be Known as
SISTERS OF STEEL.
Everyone sat quiet. Then Aleks began to snuffle, tears in her eyes.
“You never told me, Little Sister, you had the soul of a Russian Poet.”
“Russian? Viking sensibilities for sure, especially the blades of steel part.”
“Join Hands please, Ladies,” said Sandra Paul. After they had all joined hands around their table, Madam President smiled.
“Yes, we are true Sisters of Steel. We will fight for our brothers, our husbands, our mothers, fathers, and our entire families. Especially our children.”
Aleks looked at the President. “Yes, even trolls who pass as children.”
They began to laugh, knowing it may be awhile before they felt like laughing again.
And now the four women, representing all of humankind no matter the race, color or creed, were speeding toward the rising sun. Sandra Paul, through the efforts of Mikhail Ispear and Colonel Bonnie Bardun, had managed to establish contact with the unnamed Breeder who had reached out to the Humans. Now they were headed toward Duluth, Minnesota. There they would meet the Tschaaa Breeder in a large warehouse on the shores of Lake Superior.
They were in the lead V-STOL, with Shannon Bell acting as co-pilot. She was beginning to transition from choppers, and Madam President had requested that she be on this mission as symbol of continued cooperation between the U.S.A and Deseret. In addition, two Crew Chiefs were on board to assist in loading, off-loading, and the care and feeding of a Browning 50 caliber heavy machine gun.
The second V-STOL had the special Security and Assault Team incase everything went south. Twelve members of the Deseret Twenty, close comrades to Abigail. Lieutenant Ruth Young, who had been on the mission with Abigail when they had met Torbin, was the Officer in Charge. She had walked up to the four special women and saluted as they were preparing to depart. Abigail had ignored military decorum and had hugged her hard.
“It had been too long since I have seen you, my fellow Avenging Angel.”
“I wished I could have been part of the Honor Guard for your Wedding, but other duties called.”
She introduced Ruth to the other three women.
“Madam President, Colonel Smirnov, Special Agent Jorgensen, this is my comrade in arms who was with me when I first met Torbin Bender. We went through much together over some six years.”
After the other three had shook her hand, knowing a close friend of Abigail must be good people, Lt. Young looked at Sandra Paul.
“Ma’am, if things go bad, we will get you all out. I swear on my life, my Church and my Lord, Jesus Christ.”
President Paul thought she looked so young to be so serious. But then so was Abigail.
“I have complete faith in your abilities, Lieutenant. But I hope your firepower will not be necessary.”
“I for one hope you stay close,” interjected Aleks. “All we allowed to take with us are blade weapons. If the Squids are less than honest…”
“Think positive, Colonel. I think everything will turn out just fine.”
“Yes, Madam President.” Aleks reply was not exactly vibrant in its positivity.
Soon the Four were boarding the V-STOL. They would be forever known as The Four in histories written about this meeting between Females of two very different, yet in some ways, similar species. For that is how people in history are often remembered, by titles rather than individual names.
And now, just over an hour later, their aircraft was approaching the warehouse where they would have the historical meeting. With practiced ease, the Deseret pilot, with Lieutenant Shannon Bell looking on, switched the tilt rotor aircraft from horizontal to vertical flight and set down in large parking lot next to the target warehouse. The Four wasted no time in exiting, the three younger women forming a protective triangle around the President.
Abigail had the katana given her by Princess Akiko, with a signature Banshee Blade, the Squid Killer, on her belt. Brynhildr had her two signature fighting axes plus a Banshee Blade. Aleks had a Banshee Blade as well as the fighting knife Hannah Weitz had tried to give Torbin . She had appropriated it after he turned it down in a bit of emotional pique over Hannah spending time making blades instead of jewelry. Her husband was sometime full of surprises.
Even Madame President had a Banshee Blade, given to her by a Lieutenant Lupe Peña toward the end of Hell Day. “Here, Madam President. Every Sister of Steel needs a good blade. I can get another one.” The Banshee Officer had told her.
The four women moved slow, cautious as they approached the designated meeting building.
“Testing, testing, one two three. Do you hear me Madam President?”
“Loud and clear, Colonel Bardun. How am I?”
“Loud and clear also. Now, you other Ladies….”
All the communications checks went well. The second Security and Assault Team V/STOL was also acting as an aerial communications relay station to the special listening post and communications center established at Grand Forks. Manning the center was Colonel Bettie Bardun and Intelligence Officer Mikhail Ispear, the two humans most knowledgeable of Tschaaa language, communications, and psychology in the entire world. All of the Four were wired for sound and video feeds, so that Bardun and Ispear could give them real time support and information. It was assumed the Breeder would have a translator device like the one Lord Neptune used to communicate with the Director as well. This translator had been seen during a couple of broadcasts that were an attempt to diffuse past barbaric acts by the Krakens and the Tschaaa. Although the broadcasts were failures, they showed the U.S.A. exactly the communication and translation capabilities the Squids had and used.
Thus, four very nervous women made their way into the interior of the huge warehouse, once used as a major shipping facility for Duluth and trade across the Great Lakes. The back wall of the huge warehouse had been taken out so there was much ambient light. And, it had allowed the Falcon aerial battlecruiser to fly in and conceal itself.
“There is a Falcon in here, Ichiro.” Abigail communicated directly to her husband, flying Cover Air Patrol some fifty miles away with Colonel Cliff Hunter in two Japanese Super Eagles F-15SJs, keeping fairly low and slow so as not to attract attention from the eye in the sky. They were each armed with new hypersonic missiles that were capable of catching the Ram-Jet Deltas should any show up, as well as hopefully do damage to a Falcon. Ichiro and Cliff had more successful air to air operations against the Tschaaa combined than anyone else on the planet.
“The individuals had to get there somehow, Abigail. We are just minutes away.”
“Roger that.”
The Four kept walking, looking at everything in the large warehouse. Then they saw the Tschaaa come from behind the Falcon. Four Squids.
“They are here,” Madam President called out.
The Four tried to position their bodies so their cameras could broadcast the images of the four aliens as the Tschaaa approached, using the crab-like ability of walking on land they could accomplish for short distances.
“Semi-skeleton cartilage system they have is somewhat efficient it seems,” said Bettie Bardun, exobiologist.”
“My husband could have told you that after his knife fight with one,” said Aleks.
“All right, ladies,” Sandra Paul interjected. “Time for me to do the talking.”
Madam President walked slowly toward the approaching Tschaaa. Two of the recognizable females by their shorter social tentacles and daintier hands had long halberd type pole weapons, flanking what could only be the Breeder who had broadcast the request, the almost plea for a meeting. But hanging back was another individual Tschaaa, who moved a bit jerky. Ispear’s voice burst on the communication system as he began to chatter in Romanian.
“English.” Madam President commanded.
“It is she. It is…one of them. I knew it…”
“Explain, now!” Sandra Paul had no time for B.S. Too much hung in the balance.
“The female hanging back. It is an Oracle, a Seer, a Sibyl, a type of female shaman, a foreteller…I have only heard of them in intercepted transmissions.”
“Which means?”
Before anyone could answer, the breeder spoke, the translation machine she had strapped to her body almost instantly broadcasting what she said in loud English.
“You are She. You are the Female Human Lord…No, that is not…you are Madam President.”
While the others were taken a bit off guard by the loud language, Sandra Paul was not. She stepped closer, showing her hands palms out.
“I come with my hands empty. I think the fact we both have five fingers, or digits, should be a basis for understanding.”
The breeder, catching on to the volume of the President's voice, began to adjust her translator. “There, that should be better…Madam President. You have efficient hearing.”
“I also pride myself on being a good listener.”
The breeder paused for a moment, absorbing what she had just heard.
“Yes. Listening as opposed to hearing. I understand, Madam President. We must both listen this day.”
Madam President took another step closer, which caused the other of the Four to also move, which set off alike reaction of the two Earth black bear sized Tschaaa female warriors.
“I have the one on the left, cousin,” Brynhildr said in Norwegian.
“I have the other, cousin.” Abigail replied.
Sandra Paul was an excellent reader of body language. Even though she was dealing with ten limbed creatures, she could see what was happening. Protect their breeder, the human is a threat.
“Ladies, freeze.” Even the Tschaaa froze in place at the sound of her voice. The breeder began to wave her social tentacles in soft, rhythmic almost dance like motions.
“Calm the young,” broke in Ispear. “That is calm the young, they fear.”
“You are trying to…calm us down, correct?” Sandra asked.
“Yes,” answered the breeder. “In the Crèche, large groups of young will become afraid, or too excited. They will rush about, slamming into each other, into the reefs, the Caregivers. They can be injured. We females must prevent that. And sometimes, we breeders sometimes see a need to calm our fellow adults as well.”
It dawned on Sandra. This was the opening she needed, the common ground.
“Yes, that is true. Our young often dash around also, are hurt, or hurt others. As do some of our adults, who may have never really grown up.” The President paused, then spoke again.
“My friends call me Sal. What may I call you?”
The Breeder began to move very slowly toward Sandra, now Sal, then stopped just within reach of her social tentacles. The alien raised them, showed her empty hand structures.
“I choose the name Elizabeth, after a great leader of yours in your history. I studied much of your history as my Lord has such an interest in it. You could not pronounce my Tschaaa name. Is Elizabeth…correct?”
Sandra smiled, still showing her empty hands. “Yes. It is a fine name in our history…Elizabeth.”
“Sal, may I …touch you? I have never touched a human.”
“How about I show you how we clasp hands in greeting, Elizabeth? It was a way in our history that we showed others we had no weapons in our hands, ready to strike.”
Elizabeth the Breeder reached out with both hands, and Sandra known as Sal to her friends took them. She had thought they would feel slimy, cold. Instead, they felt delicate, a bit cool to the touch. Any hate she felt toward the Tschaaa seemed to dissipate
“Cool hands, warm heart.” It just popped into her head and then out her mouth.
“Your digits feel warm, human known as Sal. Warmth means you have passion, caring for others. You wish to warm them in cold waters. Our Young grow best in warm waters.”
The two completely alien species held each other’s hands, looked into each other’s eyes. The two females, current and past breeders, mothers, stood lightly grasping each other’s hands, becoming used to the closeness of the other. Then Elizabeth spoke again. “I have another female here who wishes to talk to you. To touch also. She has touched a human female before, years ago. She still searches for that human breeder.”
“Is that the young female behind your two warriors?”
“Yes. She chose the name Cassandra. She said that would have special meaning for you.”
The President knew then that this would be much more of a unique meeting than just between two separate alien species with a history of conflict if that was possible. Now, there was a feeling, a touch of the supernatural.
“Why, yes. I would be glad to meet Cassandra. It is our understanding she has a…special standing in your culture.”
Elizabeth moved her social tentacles to signify a very positive ‘yes’.
“I can see you and your companions have studied us as we have studied you.”
Sal smiled. “Maybe it could have been different if females had met first, completely away from Earth. Before the rocks were cast.”
Elizabeth’s body colors began to dull a bit.
“She is a bit distressed about that comment,” Mikhail whispered into Madam President’s ear pierce. Quickly, Sandra Paul tried to stop the development of any bad feelings.
“I did not mean to make it sound as if this situation is of your making, Elizabeth. I just…”
“You were just stating the truth, Sal, as a leader should. We Tschaaa used to pride ourselves as having a culture based on truth, on facts. Some of our ancient… thinkers may be the right word, told us we were more truthful and honest in our communications than any species in the universe. Now, since coming to Earth, and your lovely oceans, I begin to wonder if something has changed in us.”
‘Oh Dear Lord’, the President thought. ‘There is a serious schism occurring in their society. Is that something I can use, or…will it lead to worse things happening?’
“Elizabeth, we humans have a long history of lying, cheating and stealing from our neighbors. We fought uncountable Wars where we killed each other. My understanding is that you Tschaaa have no such history of organized warfare, of killing each other.”
Sal saw a definite shiver pass through Elisabeth’s body, and two of her limbs started to go black.
“Danger…” Mikhail started to say into the Four’s earpierces.
“I am sorry,” Elizabeth blurted out. “The thought of what war does is very distressing to me. Individuals killing others young, children. This has a direct connection as to who Cassandra is, why she is.”
At the mention of her name again, the agitated and nervous twitching Tschaaa female began to move closer to Sal in slow motion.
“She is a Sibyl, an Oracle due to extreme stress, pain and psychic hurt,” Mikhail tried to state as fast as possible. “She saw, experienced the death of many children…”
It hit Sandra ‘Sal’ Paul like a ton of bricks. Her blood ran cold. The President knew in her guts that ‘she’ had caused this. Casandra had been there when the off-course missile meant to kill Lord Neptune, destroy his headquarters with a nuke, had failed. A direct result was the death of thousands of Tschaaa children. Cassandra had been there. Sal could just feel it in her bones.
Typhoon of Steel Page 40