Itinerant's Amazon: Regenesis ~ 12

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Amazon: Regenesis

by Itinerant

edited by Amelia R

Amazon - Part 10: Home Stretch (continued)

Biographer's Note: This is Nicole's story. It covers those events and people she finds notable in her life and chooses to share. If you have problems with it, take it up with her. I'm just a glorified stenographer.

Author's Note: The menu is, of course, courtesy of the incomparable Amelia R.

12:00 Noon EST

WGSS Offices

The bridge group was waiting for Amelia to arrive as Nicole pulled a chair up near the table. Marissa and Tejas had just arrived, and set out the cards and score sheets as the microwaves hummed away on their lunches.

Amelia was looking much the worse for wear as she walked in; it wasn't so much any one item, but the slight slouch of her shoulders, the slight bag under her eyes, and the frequent blinking of tired eyes made it clear that the night hadn't been restful.

"Morning, Amelia."

"Hi, Nicole." The blonde looked longingly at the hot water spigot; a nice, hot, strong cup of tea was tempting. She hadn't gotten up early this morning, but less than five hours of sleep had made the morning difficult.

Her state hadn't escaped the redhead's notice. "I'm sorry I kept you guys up last night. I should have left earlier."

Amelia sat down and started in on her lunch, while Marissa and Tejas dropped into their chairs. It was fun, but the blonde's game was noticeably less sharp than normal. She shot a grateful look at Nicole when a cup of hot tea appeared at her place; a few sips later, as the stimulant took hold, she began to wonder just how the woman knew what was wanted.

"Okay, Nicole, how did you know?" Amelia and Nicole were alone in the server room at the moment, getting organized for the afternoon's work.

"Pardon?"

"The tea."

With a small grin, Nicole explained. "One of the extra gifts I have is the ability to sense emotions -- just emotions. Your longing for the caffeine, when you looked at the hot water dispenser, was like a halogen lamp. It wasn't too hard to figure out."

"I think you were sent just to make my life weird." Amelia cocked her head. "Now that you're around, even if Trish and I say no, I suspect things won't ever be back to normal, either."

"I'll only be here 'til about the end of next month, so take heart. Things should settle down after I'm away from here."

The two spent time reviewing the tasks completed the day before, and Amelia found herself already digging deeper into her job jar than she'd expected. The redhead had made significant progress on the week's task list.

"Amelia, before I get started today, I'd like your permission to run some tests on the database system."

It took a few minutes for Nicole to explain what she'd seen, why she thought it might be a problem, and what she intended to do to determine the root cause. There were a couple of points where she had to explain her chain of reasoning, as the breadth of her experience pointed to possible problems that hadn't occurred to the comparatively inexperienced blonde.

The look from Amelia was a mix of awe and confusion. "Nicole, there is no way on God's green earth that you could be a new college graduate. I've been out of school for over five years, and gone through several training courses for both the hardware and software in here. I have been working with these systems nearly every day, and didn't know to even look at some of these things!"

The redhead shrugged. "Those courses never tell you quite everything you wind up needing to know."

"But how...."

For a moment, the youthful mask dropped. "For now, let's just say I've had some good teachers."

"That's a 'Microsoft Help' answer: completely correct, and utterly useless." She grimaced. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't just give you a list of things I'd like you to look at for the next four weeks, and let you work them in as you run your tests? And will you let me look over your shoulder from time to time so I can learn what you're doing, and why?"

"You're the boss. I'll work with you however you want me to."

The skepticism radiated from Nicole's companion. "Right. I suspect there's an awful lot you can't, or won't, tell me unless I accept your invitation."

The only reply was a silent shrug.

5:45PM EST

Amelia's Apartment

Trish dug into the spice cabinet as she had the kitchen duty tonight; she'd finished her classes early enough to get a head start on the preparations. She had had a distracted day—the fatigue from the late night made her work harder to focus on the Music History lecture. Her friends had remarked, too, on her weariness—though not without taking advantage of the situation.

"Trish, you and your partner really should wait for a non-school night."

Normally, such a comment would have received a risqué response; today her brain was functioning on—at best—two cylinders out of eight. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, and the group around her gave themselves a high-five in celebration of a long-sought—and very rare—success.

She managed to keep up with the required note taking and was grateful when she finally wobbled into the apartment. The cats, by some means known only to them, seemed to know she wasn't up to dealing with their feline shenanigans—the two parked on the back of the couch and just observed.

The previous evening's events continued to run through the back of her mind; she wasn't certain she trusted Nicole—the story was just too bizarre to be credible.

~But Amelia does trust her, it seems., and if there's one person in this world I trust, it's her.~

They had much to talk about during supper. ~Maybe we should invite Nicole to the performance this weekend. We'll see how she behaves in our social setting.~

6:00PM EST

Rod Graham's home

Rod had finished setting the table and was standing as Chelsea put the finishing touches on the meal. There hadn't been much time for the two to talk before Connie was due, but Chelsea was dealing with a faint echo of the frustration that Rod felt. She felt as if there was something wrong and that it revolved around Connie, but couldn't identify just what the problem was.

Connie was shy, hesitating as she entered a house that her memory told her she had visited before, though she seemed to recall other visits by someone else. The three quickly settled around the table, and the meal passed quickly and pleasantly between the good food and conversation.

Rod deliberately guided the conversation away from topics that could stray too close to the new situation at work. After the meal, however, they settled themselves in the living room. Connie was relating the strange confusion she'd felt the last couple of days—almost as if she wasn't herself. Chelsea shot her husband a look, which he returned with a minimal shake of the head.

Later, after their guest had left, the couple were talking over the cleanup. "Something's wrong about her whole situation, Rod. What's going on?"

Rod explained the situation as best he could, and by the end of the evening, his wife was alternating between fury at what had happened to their friend, and fear of a similar fate for her partner.

8:30PM EST

Nicole's Apartment

Dinner had gone well, and Nicole had retired to her bedroom to do her journal update and language lesson for the day. She stood and stretched after hunching over for so long. The journal was up-to-date for her new life, but there was a lot of work to capture her life as Tom. The time spent recording that life she'd left behind also gave Nicole time to wonder how that missing part of her heart was doing.

~It's safer for her, but, dear heaven, I miss Beth so much.~ It took a while to force her thoughts away from that channel, and return to a more immediate question.

"Artemis? Do you have a few minutes?"

The goddess blinked into the bedroom. "What can I do for you, Nicole?"

Nicole outlined the events of the previous two days, and the discussion with Amelia and Trish. "I don't want you to be surprised, or offended for that matter, but I really felt we could use someone with Trish's talent. She didn't cause the 'tickle' at first, but after I asked her to join, we both felt it."

Artemis nodded. "I think you got your answer; I don't think I'm in a position to argue, either. She seems like a very good person, though hardly a warrior."

The redhead shrugged. "I really don't want to build just an army. We have a nation to create, and that means a history, music, ceremonies, and all the rest. Will you work with Trish, if she accepts, so she can learn what kind of music she can begin looking for?"

"Certainly, but isn't that a waste of resources? Having someone who's just a musician seems a bit of a waste."

Nicole grinned. "I was thinking that, for centuries, the bards were teachers to an otherwise illiterate populace as they traveled around the countryside. We're not illiterate, but I think that might be another way to use Trish's talents. I think she'll need more schooling, but she can set up the 'Introduction to the Amazon Nation' course that we'll eventually need."

Thursday, March 1, 2001

9:30AM EST

Clickety-clickety.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, ...

The rhythmic tapping of fingernails on a desktop reflected the impatience of the person at the computer. The system was working, but it was like trying to pour ketchup out of a newly opened bottle. It was taking f-o-r-e-v-e-r, or at least it seemed that way.

After years of working on high-end clusters for large clients, it was annoying at the moment to be dealing with the smaller, slower systems here. ~Just an incentive to tune them as best I can, I guess.~

She checked the list, and grabbed another image file from Angela's project archive.

1:15PM EST

The closer hissed as it fought to shut the door against the out-rush of air from the server room. The figure at the console didn't react until the soft clumping was close enough to speak easily over the noise of the fans.

"Hi, Amelia." Nicole didn't even turn as she greeted the newcomer.

"Why aren't you running the tests, yet? I'd have expected you to have the scripts set up and kicked off already."

"I want to run the full set of tests; if I don't, there are a couple of configuration options I could miss the settings for. Besides, this way I have everything set for a post-fix retest, and can make sure things work as they should. And the data will be captured to back up the choices we have to make."

"You're being obscenely thorough, you know."

"This is what I do, Amelia. Attention to detail is critical; you know that as well as I do. This way, I can write up a report for you that will show Joanne what we did, why we did it, and the improvements it made. You'll probably get a bonus for it."

"If any bonuses are handed out, you'll be on the list. Oh, by the way, Trish and I wondered if you'd like to join us at the coffeehouse tomorrow night. Trish is booked there for the weekend. You might enjoy the performance, and you can meet some of our friends, too."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Amelia. Thank you for inviting me along. I have a morning appointment Saturday, so I can't stay too late. Can we meet at your place, and I'll follow you?"

The two agreed on a time, and Amelia suggested very casual, comfortable, layered clothing. "It will be cool at first, but the room will warm up once everyone shows up and has been there a while."

6:30PM EST

George Mason University

Nicole had grabbed a quick, light meal—taking time to change into workout clothes—before making the short drive to GMU's campus, thankful for the fact she didn't have to fight the dense traffic on the Beltway. The chilly wind made her grateful for the jacket she wore as she scurried from the parking lot to the building.

The Colonel was waiting just outside the locker rooms of the Recreational Sports Complex. They moved off into a nearby office.

"First, I want you to try each of the physical tests you'll be required to complete. That way I'll have an idea of what we need to work on. We'll also take time to run through a practice ASVAB...."

"Pardon? ASVAB?"

"You'll need to learn the acronyms, the government in general, and the military in particular, love them. A.S.V.A.B stands for Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. It's a series of tests that will measure your skills and determine whether you're qualified to enter the military, and what sort of specializations you're qualified for. I have some practice tests for you. We'll run through the physical tests first, and then you can take the ASVAB."

His reaction to her time in the three-mile run was almost funny. She'd tried—really—not to show off. Managing a steady six-minute mile, and ending the run without really breathing hard, wasn't a good way to avoid attention. He refrained from comment, though, as he'd seen long-distance runners with a similarly slender frame.

The pull-ups and sit-ups were more an exercise in patience; she hardly pushed herself and managed sixty sit-ups in the two minutes. The pull-ups were as bad—or good, depending—as the rest of the testing.

He sat down on a bench and just looked at the redhead. She'd breezed through every physical requirement, and appeared to be capable of levels that the very best of his SAS troopers would find unachievable. Given her body shape, she must be made of pure muscle; the running wasn't much of a surprise, but the number of pull-ups she'd managed had revealed a strength not reflected in her build. He gazed steadily, and intently, at the young woman, as she took the time allotted for recovery. It wasn't as if she needed it.

~Who ARE you, Miss Harrison? WHAT are you?~

The hair on the back of his neck rose as, at the moment those thoughts ran through his mind, she looked in his direction and quirked an eyebrow.

She stood, quietly at the moment, stretching and testing the muscles in each limb. The exercise had—almost—been fun. She hadn't let go; she had tried to demonstrate that the physical part of this training was the least of his worries. Perhaps, though, his background might provide something to do that would be more of a challenge.

He was sitting quietly on the bench, in that state of relaxed alertness, when she noticed he was gazing intently and his emotions were a whirl of questioning. She looked in his direction and quirked an eyebrow, curious to see if he'd explain. The feeling of questioning intensified, and she felt a spike of concern.

"Ms Harrison, that performance was nothing short of remarkable. Would you care to explain how you just managed to exceed the physical requirements, and do so without—so far as I can tell—appreciable effort?"

~I knew this could happen.~ Nicole cringed inwardly as she tried to assemble an explanation. "Colonel," she began, "as long as I've been physically able, I've worked hard at trying to keep up with as rigorous a set of exercises as circumstances permit."

He knew quite well that she was withholding information, though he doubted she was lying. She had to understand what he was trying to accomplish, though.

"Ms Harrison, one of the things that basic training is supposed to accomplish is to teach you how to push beyond your physical limits. It is an essential skill in combat, and has saved my life and the lives of my squadmates more than once. My intent is to help you find those limits now, and start teaching you before you get into training. I cannot do that if you will not push yourself to find those limits."

"Colonel," she stopped. ~What can I say?~

Stirling watched as her face reflected her internal debate. "Nicole, I'm going to assume this, too, is tied up in whatever you and Doctor Wing are involved in. I think it may be well if we three sit down together and talk about this situation. You will hardly need this much of my time, just to learn the various ranks and the like." He waved at a stack of paper. "You can read without spending three evenings a week jogging around a track, and I can check your memorization easily.

"You managed to exceed every level of physical workout I'd planned on, so at best I'll need to take time to re-plan my workouts. If nothing else, we can make sure your endurance is built up. For now, we can look at the material you should learn prior to reporting to boot camp. I've included a copy of 'Military Careers', which outlines the jobs available. I flagged some of the specializations that are best suited to prepare you for a team lead position."

His exasperation was clear, and the redhead was hesitant to add to it. "Colonel, I think you need to know that I have an eidetic memory. It won't take long to memorize this material; if there is other material you think I'd find helpful, you might want to dig it out. This," she waved at the stack, "should be well in hand by Tuesday."

"You and your mentor aren't making this any easier."

Friday, March 2, 2001

7:45AM EST

Angela had brought her car to a stop in the WGSS parking lot, and, as she turned the machine off, turned to her roommate. "Nicole? We normally go out as a group for lunch on Friday; would you like to join us today?"

"Sure! Just let me know when it's time to go." Such things were typical for small companies, and being invited along was a good sign that the team had accepted her as a part of the group.

11:45AM EST

As a result of the earlier invitation, Nicole found herself collected from the computer as the team piled into a couple of cars for the twenty-minute trip. The lunch location turned out to be the 'Big Bowl', a Chinese and Thai restaurant in Reston. The place had a stir fry bar, Thai curries, and a group share menu. Several people recommended the bar, and for this week, Nicole agreed. Angela displayed a taste for hot dishes, selecting a spicy Sichuan beef entrée.

Nicole snickered at the choice. "Angela, I didn't think you needed to toast your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste of my cooking!"

The group laughed as the newest employee got her turn being gently hazed about her cooking skills.

1:15PM EST

WGSS Offices

~Okay. The scripts are set up and ready to run. I have the priority set so it won't bog down the work other people are trying to do, and the data is redirected to a volume that's pretty much free. That will prevent any weird delays due to disk contention.~

She double checked the disk free space and reassured herself that there was sufficient room for the data that would be collected. It wouldn't take too much room, but crashing the system due to a full disk wouldn't endear her to Amelia. She might get fired, and then she'd be stuck queening for the rest of her life.

As if she wasn't going to be doing that anyway.

She scanned the command file one last time, closed it, and started the process. By Monday, the initial results would have been captured and analyzed by the tools she'd either found or re-created.

~Okay, now that that's done, let's see how much more of Amelia's job jar I can empty today.~

St. Anne's Episcopalian Church, Reston, VA

7:30PM EST

The jacket had come off early, as the crowded basement of the church had filled with local folk music fans. Nicole had, at first, found herself busy helping Amelia as she set up a sales table near the door; she'd taken time, though, to complete her collection of Trish's music. She left her friend with a hot cup of coffee, and found a seat a little closer to the platform.

The first set finished, and as the notes died softly in the crowded room, Nicole opened her eyes. She'd closed them, allowing the musician to paint a picture within her mind, undisturbed by the surrounding crowd. It was a visit to an art gallery, where each person's experience created a unique image from the words and music from the stage.

Nicole joined in the generous applause, and marveled at the creativity displayed by the young woman taking her bow. Trish was someone to be treasured as a friend, even if she decided she didn't want the burdens that would come with accepting the Call. The redhead slipped out of her seat, and quickly slid into a chair behind the sales table; Amelia sent a grateful look her way as the line of customers built. The blonde nudged her helper. "If they want it autographed, just flag Trish over."

Nicole found herself chatting amiably with various people as they browsed the stacks of CDs and other merchandise; it was interesting that there was such a range of ages present—including one child who was wearing a stocking cap.

"May I help you?" Nicole asked her, or him. The young one's parents came up behind with one of the new CDs, as the end of the line finally arrived. She noted with interest the red hair on both parents.

The young one held out the CD. "I'd like to buy this one, please."

Nicole smiled, and handled the transaction. "You prefer this kind of music?"

The mother nodded. "My daughter has a friend who heard Trish, and loaned her a CD to listen to while she was going through chemo. She insisted on our bringing her here tonight, and we're both glad she did."

"Would you like me to get Trish to autograph the disk for you?"

The girl's face beamed at the prospect. "Could you, please?"

"I'd be happy to. Trish!" Nicole waved a hand at the musician.

The adults struck up a conversation while waiting for the signature, and it continued after Trish moved on to sign other discs. The child, Tara Davidson, was undergoing treatment for leukemia. The doctors were pleased with her progress, but her hair loss was an emotional drain since she was frequently teased. She had been a very pretty child, and the bald look made her stand out. "We'd like to get her a nice wig; her treatments will be continuing for a while, but it's hard to find one with anything like the right shade of red. She was really proud of her hair color; it was almost like yours, miss, and pretty unique."

The mother, Marilyn, watched the reaction of the red-haired woman at the table. She seemed young, though apparently mature for her age; at least her vocabulary was more like Marilyn's own parents than was typical for someone in her mid-twenties. Still, sympathy showed clearly on the young woman's face, before it changed to a thoughtful look as the tall redhead glanced in Tara's direction. ~She's thinking about my little girl, it seems. I wonder just what she has in mind?~

Tara caught Nicole's glance, and smiled uncertainly. The woman's look was intent, but not frightening; there was a hint of warmth and friendliness in the look sent her way. The youngster relaxed a bit, as she felt no threat from the other side of the table.

Nicole glanced at Amelia, and, after receiving a nod, offered to see what she could find. "I may have an idea how to help your daughter, Marilyn, but I'll have to make some phone calls first." The family left a phone number for further questions. ~If I have to chop my hair off, at least I can make good use of it.~

Saturday, March 3, 2001

Fairfax Center

8:00AM EST

It was a pleasantly short ride to the recruiter's office, as it sat a couple of miles down the road at the mall. She wasn't sure what the events for the day would be, though she understood from her chats with David Stirling that she'd be here awhile for some testing, then, if there were no disqualifying problems, she'd get an appointment at a nearby processing station for the next step.

She had allowed plenty of time, even given it was early on a Saturday morning, and she arrived well ahead of her appointment. The office was empty at the moment, though there was a door open to the back rooms, and she sat patiently in a chair, eyes closed, thinking and listening.

The faint swish of cloth on cloth called her back to alertness, and she opened her eyes. A few moments later, a block of a man, dressed in a Marine uniform, entered from the open door. Nicole noted his eyes as they quickly scanned the room, lighting on her for a moment.

His utter lack of reaction was reassuring. The last thing she wanted was to deal with someone who forgot the axiom 'appearances can be deceiving.' He stopped at his desk and checked something atop it.

"Ms. Harrison?"

The next half-hour was a superficially casual conversation. The man, Sergeant Raymond, was quite good at his job. Whether by training or natural talent, he quizzed her about who she was, her background, why she was there, and why she thought the Marines would be interested in her. In particular, he was curious as to her age; she was six years older than the typical recruit—and built rather lightly for the stresses of military life.

"And," he continued, "it seems odd that someone with not one, but two college degrees would side-step Officer Candidate School. Can you enlighten me as to your reasons for that choice?"

"Certainly; I did some research, and found something quite interesting. Second Lieutenants who come up through the ranks have a lower casualty rate in their units than those who just go through OCS. I don't mind taking time, if it means saving lives."

He nodded, whether in agreement or just thought she didn't know. "Alright, I think we can continue with the rest of your screening. With your education, you will be enlisted as at least Private First Class, which means you'll be expected to handle more than the average recruit." The next ten minutes were filled with verification of information—Social Security Number, driver's license, birth certificate, and—last but not least—proof of high school graduation.

The first of an imposing stack of forms was filled in, and the Sergeant quickly made copies of the documentation. He dropped back into his chair, and smiled at Nicole. "One thing you'll learn quickly is that the military runs on paperwork." He handed her a clipboard full of forms. "All these need to be filled out. Once they're done, you'll take an aptitude screening test, the ASVAB. It should take about two hours or so; I'll go over the paperwork while you're taking the test, and we can review the forms. Once all that's done, we'll take a look at your test results. I suspect you'll be done before noon."

"Sounds good, Sergeant. I'll get started on these." As she stood up, the door opened. A young woman walked in looking very uncertain of her destination. She caught sight of the tall redhead, and Nicole sensed a spike of worry that settled back into a low level of fretting as the new arrival walked to the desk where the Sergeant sat.

"Hello, I'm Constance Sinclair. I have an appointment with you for this morning."

It was her—the target. The tall redhead that had everyone in the office in a dither had just stood up and moved to a table. Connie recalled the briefing she'd received, but ink on paper did no justice to the woman. Even the photographs were inadequate to seeing her in action.

She was tall, and graceful as a model. Even though she was dressed casually, she looked like she'd stepped out of a catalog. Her make-up was done with restraint. She looked elegant, even with her long, braided hair trailing over her back.

The young woman was envious. Still, there was warmth in the smile that had been directed her way; the impression, after only moments of contact, was of invitation and welcoming. It was like she was inviting Connie to come into a warm, hospitable room.

~It's ironic,~ the little brunette thought, ~that the best link we have to a group as dangerous as the Amazons is a woman who leaves me feeling a lot like Rod does.~ She felt more restlessness from a back corner of her mind, and a sense that things were deeper than she knew. ~It's like my woman's intuition is screaming at me.~

~Paper, paper and MORE paper.~ Nicole flexed her hand as she paused to read the instructions for the next section of the form. ~Hospitalizations. Let me think—nope none of those. I've hardly had time to need it, and given the overhaul I got from the manufacturer, I doubt I'm ready for any major maintenance for a while.~

She racked her mind for a moment, and tried to send a nudge to that odd corner of her mind where the memories of Nicole's past resided. Still, nothing bubbled to the surface. She'd had a complete set of immunizations, no injuries other than the odd scuff from a fall, and had never had to be hospitalized. ~I—either of me—had the flu, and chicken pox, but nothing more serious than that.~

Some of the information she filled in was a bit of a guess, since she didn't know her exact weight, but she filled in the spaces on the forms as best she could.

The next form was fairly short as it inquired about drugs, arrests, and her status as a conscientious objector. She had little to put on the form, but there wasn't any hurry to finish, and she took her time. ~No drugs; no arrests—not even a traffic ticket.~ She thought back to Tom's youth. ~Come to think of it, he didn't have any tickets either.~ The conscientious objector question rolled around in her mind for a minute; she objected—strenuously—to anything more than the violence required for self-preservation. Being called into a life where she was likely to be involved in a low-intensity war for years grated on her nerves.

She reviewed the stack of documents one last time from top to bottom, and secured them to the clipboard as she heard Sergeant Reynolds finishing up with Constance. The young woman—proportionally less slender than Nicole, but by no means heavily built—still radiated nervousness as she talked with the Marine.

~She's really not happy with being here, though she's hiding it reasonably well.~ The queen considered her options and decided to see if she couldn't draw a little attention from the child. ~I can have a little fun, anyway.~ She walked up to the desk, clipboard in hand, and waited until she caught the man's attention.

"I have the forms filled out ... sir."

The man's eyes locked on her like twin cannon, and narrowed; he had noticed the slight pause. "Ms. Harrison, I appreciate the intended courtesy, but in the service you should NEVER call a Sergeant 'Sir'; you should always say 'Sergeant'."

"I'll make sure I remember that, Sergeant." She felt Ms. Sinclair's tension level drop a little as the recruiter's attention was diverted for a moment. ~Mission accomplished.~

She resisted the temptation to wink at the man, though she barely managed to suppress a smile.

He handed the clipboard full of forms to Constance, and directed her to the table Nicole had used.

"Now then, Ms. Harrison, we'll get you going on the tests. If you need to visit the head, you might want to do so now, before you get started. Ordinarily, we'd administer just the screening test, but with your education, I think it's more efficient to let you take the full test now. Fortunately, we have the computer based version, so you'll get a score immediately on completion."

12:30PM EST

Fairfax Center

~Well, that went well.~

The recruiter had been more than pleased as he looked over the ASVAB results. She'd scored in the ninety-ninth percentile, with only her 'Auto and Shop' score being less than stellar. ~I never did care for working on cars, anyway.~

He looked up after reviewing her scores. "You'll have your pick of any MOS that has an opening, based on these scores. Do you have any preferences?" He was smiling happily at the thought of the potential revealed.

"I do; I've worked with someone who's been in the military, and they think my skills and interests will match best with MOS 0261, a Geographic Intelligence Specialist."

The sergeant nodded. "I see no problem, but that MOS requires a top secret clearance." He outlined the process—performed by the Naval Security Group Liaison—including the checks on the family. Another form was extracted from a file, and they spent a few minutes ensuring all the requisite information was captured.

Reynolds reviewed the paperwork, and the two went over the contract to ensure Nicole understood all the commitments on both sides. "I'd plan for a trip to Richmond next weekend. There's nothing in any of this data to indicate you'll be rejected. You'll receive the information in the mail, probably by Wednesday, with where you need to be, when, and what you'll be doing when you get there."

He made some suggestions as to how to pack, and as she stood, he made one last recommendation. "I'd work on your physical conditioning. Upper body strength and endurance are important."

~Well, that's that for today. It's early enough to do something yet.~ It had been too long since her last visit, and it really was time. She pulled out her cell phone and punched the first speed-dial number. "Hello, Michael. Would you mind if I spent the rest of the day at your cabin?"

Sunday, March 4, 2001

12:15PM EST

Amelia and Trish's Apartment

"So what do you think, Trish?" Amelia had parked on the couch, and Yang took advantage of her stretched out legs to occupy the blonde's lap. She'd been quiet since the two had shared brunch.

"About?" Yin had appropriated the back of Trish's chair, and blinked as the two-legged residents broke the comfortable quiet.

"Nicole. Her offer. I've been turning it over in my head for the last four days, and I've told you what I've seen around work. She has Colonel Stirling nearly talking to himself," Trish tittered at the image, "and I swear she knows more about the network and server systems than anyone her age has a right to. She's smart, and caring—you saw how she reacted to that kid with cancer."

Trish nodded. "She has something in mind to help, that's obvious." The brown haired woman smiled at her partner. "I like the idea of working with, and for, someone who can care about one child. She also seems to be willing to accept us as we are, which is a big plus in my book."

"So?"

There was a long pause as the young woman thought through what she knew. "I think we should accept her offer. What do you think?"

"I agree with you; let's make the call."

12:30PM EST

Nicole's Apartment

The rain was beating on the wall, rather than the window this morning. March in Virginia was proving to be like April or early May in Wisconsin—damp and windy. The trees were just beginning to pop their buds, and the hint of the new life was a comforting reminder to Nicole.

Angela had wandered off for the remainder of the day, as there was a weekend seminar at Georgetown given by one of her old professors; the redhead was snuggled into 'her' reading chair, with a mug of hot chocolate on the side table. Her quiet review of the material from David Stirling was interrupted by the chirping of her cell-phone. The caller ID popped up Amelia's number.

"Hi, Amelia. What's up?"

"Nicole, Trish and I have made our decision. We accept your offer."

~Yes! YES! *YES!!*~ The redhead's heart rang with the pure joy of knowing that she and Kate were that much less alone. There would be time later to bask in the emotions; for now, it was time to bring her new sisters into the family. It took a fair amount of self-control to restrain the urge to dance.

"Thank you, Amelia," the queen finally responded, her pleasure obvious in her voice. "We'll need to get together for your induction. Will this afternoon work, or do we need to schedule something for later?"

"We're free this evening, so if it will work for you, why not come by around six o'clock. I'll have something ready for supper; then we can sit and you can answer some of the questions I've been dying to ask."

"I'll be happy to; there will be at least four of us for supper, Mela, but I'd like to see if I can get Kate Tanner, my sister Amazon who's in California, here as well. I want all my sisters to get to know each other. I'll call as soon as Kate gives me a yes or no."

"It won't matter much. I'll have plenty for everyone."

"Wonderful! Assume five for supper then, and I'll see you a little before six—and thank you, Amelia. You don't realize, yet, just how much this means to me."

Nicole ended the call, with a huge smile on her face. "Artemis? Do you have a moment?"

"Yes, Nicole? What can I do for you?" The room, empty an instant before, now held the ancient, but now familiar, goddess.

Even the strain in their relationship couldn't sour her happiness as the redhead continued. "Amelia just called; she and Trish have accepted the Call." Artemis' eyes widened, and her smile was nearly as radiant as the queen's. "I'd like to have the induction this evening—six o'clock works for them—but I have a couple of other issues. I'll need a way to get there without calling attention to us, and I'd also like Kate to join us. Are you willing to help get Kate and me there and back home?"

"You'd like me to go pick up Kate, then take both of you to Amelia's?"

"Almost. I intend to call Kate and see if she's available. If she is, I'd like you to take me with you so I can say hello to the Tanners."

The black-haired woman nodded. "That would be fine. Shall I wait while you call?"

"If you would, please."

Artemis' sharp hearing allowed her to listen to both sides of the conversation, and she grinned as Nicole filled her friend and sister Amazon in on the events of the past several days, and the plans for the afternoon and evening. The young brunette was enthusiastic in her agreement, and plans were quickly made for the visit to the West Coast, and the return trip for the ceremony.

4:30PM EST/1:30PM PST

Tanner Home

Nicole and Artemis blinked into the living room at the appointed time, and the waiting young woman started at first, then beamed at their arrival. Artemis received her due respect, as she acknowledged the slight bow from Kate. The tall queen, however, was on the receiving end of a distinctly sisterly pounce.

The two found, once again, the warmth of affection that each felt for the other—something that seemed to be unique to them. Kate's affection for Alex, as deep and intense as it was, reached a different part of her soul from that place held by Nicole. The young woman was, to a degree, conflicted by the divergent calls on her loyalties; she knew, however, that she had made a deliberate choice to accept the call to the Amazons. Her first loyalty would be to her queen and sister.

Nicole, too, felt that warm bond to Kate. It was—unique. As much as Tom had loved Beth, this feeling was on a conscious level; she knew that her sister was here.

Artemis departed for the moment. She wasn't ready, yet, to introduce herself to the others in the Tanner clan. Nicole and Kate vanished into the kitchen to spend the remainder of the next hour catching up on the state of the Tanner family.

It was far too soon, for Nicole, when it was time to exchange farewell hugs and depart.

5:30PM EST

Amelia and Trish's Apartment

The wondrous smell of cheddar cheese permeated the whole apartment, with undertones of baking bread and cinnamon that were sufficient to leave both women's mouths watering as they put the last touches on the cleaning and straightening of their home—even the cats' litter box had been subjected to the frenzy. It was almost like an expression of nesting instinct.

The cats were parked in their usual place, on the back of the couch, as Amelia checked once more on the state of the meal. Trish was tinkering nervously with the tuning of her favorite guitar when three figures faded into the center of the room. As they began to solidify, Trish gave a small 'eek' of surprise, and moved to interpose herself between the intruders and her partner. The sound caught Amelia's attention; she spotted Trish's movement and looked for a handy weapon. Both relaxed, at least a little, as they recognized at least one of the new arrivals.

The tallest, their friend Nicole—who carried a bag of some sort—was accompanied this time by two more women. The shortest, a slender brunette, who sniffed curiously at the smells from the kitchen, was at the left of the redhead.

~That was seriously COOL!~ Kate thought to herself. ~It was like a Star Trek© transporter without the hum!~ Her nose demanded her attention, and she sniffed again; there was something here that smelled delicious.

The third person drew their attention like a magnet draws iron filings. Though not as tall as Nicole, her black hair and Mediterranean features only emphasized her other-ness; there was a sense of power, and an ageless feeling of the ancient about the youthful looking woman.

Even the cats seemed to sense the unique nature of that visitor. They had sat up, at first, when the strangers arrived, and seemed prepared to leap down to examine the intruders. Almost as quickly, they stopped, and sat down with their tails curled around their paws. They looked very much like a pair of ceramic statues, other than the motion of their heads to track Artemis.

Amelia moved out of the kitchen, after ensuring the food was going to be all right. She recalled Nicole's mention of Artemis' identity as one of the company's directors, but watching as someone just faded into the living room, and knowing that that person was literally divine, made the blonde's mind race. Four days was too little time to re-evaluate the convictions of a lifetime.

Trish placed her guitar on its stand and joined her partner. ~People just don't appear in the middle of a room.~ The nebulous thoughts she'd hung onto of God and faith were returned to the forefront of her mind. Her parents had brought her up in the Catholic Church, and she'd been properly catechized. She recalled the lessons about saints and angels, though as she'd matured she had lost her enthusiasm. The natural questioning of a teen approaching adulthood, coupled with the blatant hypocrisy of supposedly fine, upstanding churchgoers, and dark whispers of other—and far worse—behavior on the part of some priests, had led her away from organized religion.

Nicole stepped forward from the newly arrived trio.

"Amelia and Trish, I'd like to introduce you, first, to my friend, and sister Amazon, Kate Tanner. Kate, this is Amelia Ten Broeck and her partner Trish Peyton." Kate moved over to the two candidates and greeted them with a characteristically warm smile.

"And this," Nicole resumed, "is Artemis, the patron goddess of the Amazon Nation. Amelia, you know her as Doctor Dianapopolis."

Artemis nodded at the two, somewhat nervous, young women before she spoke. "Amelia, I am more pleased than I can say that you have accepted the Call. I've had a chance to see just how capable you are, and anyone who has been able to earn your love and respect, as Trish has, is equally worthy, I'm sure. Are you both certain of your decision? This is a last chance to change your minds."

Trish was first to respond. "I'm sure; let's do it." Amelia grinned at her lover, and added her assent.

"Very well," Artemis began, "Amelia Anjenitje Ten Broeck and Patricia Ellen Peyton, do you swear your allegiance to your Queen, obeying her in all things and forsaking and renouncing all other allegiances? Do you swear to support your sister Amazons, giving them all the aid and comfort in your power? Do you swear to aid the weak and helpless as you are able?"

Trish winced at her full name, but straightened and spoke clearly. "I do." Her partner smiled and echoed the commitment. "I do."

"Nicole Joy Harrison, do you, as Queen, accept Amelia and Trish as your sisters and true Amazons? Do you swear to protect, teach, guide, comfort, and aid them?"

"I do." Nicole smiled at the now-familiar oath.

"Then welcome to the Amazon Nation, Amelia and Trish, my new daughters." She placed a hand on each young woman's head, and a soft silver glow spread over their bodies.

As the glow faded, the two wobbled a bit. They reached out to steady each other as they recovered from the changes made. Kate sent a sympathetic look their way as she recalled her own instability after her empowerment.

A few moments later, as the two new Amazons finally acclimated to the physical changes, each of the four gasped in wonder. It was the same sensation of bonding, and affection, that Nicole and Kate knew—perhaps not as intense, but there nonetheless.

Nicole seemed most affected—perhaps because of her unique position as the nexus of the bonds. She just stood with tears trailing from her eyes and a look of wonder on her face.

Amelia and Trish recovered quickly, and, after each promptly ensured that her partner was well, they turned their attention to their new queen.

Kate blinked and shook herself. She, too, had felt the bonds take hold with the new sisters. The warmth, while not as intense as that she felt with Nicole, had left no doubt that these women, too, were part of her new family. The brunette focused her attention on her tall friend as she noticed the tears that ran down her cheeks.

"Nicole?" she queried, reaching out a hand to the redhead's nearest arm. "Are you okay?"

A shiver ran through Nicole's frame, and her look of wonder turned to one of joy. "I can feel you, you know—all three of you. It's like nothing I've ever felt before." She shook herself again, wiped her eyes, and directed her attention to the new inductees. "Amelia, and Trish too, before you wander off, I have something I want you to do for me." She retrieved the bag she'd brought, and pulled a few aluminum cans out. After commenting that the cans were empty, she tossed one can to each of the three women. "Catch!"

Kate caught hers cleanly; Amelia and Trish found themselves holding refugees from a trash compactor. It took a few more tries before the new Amazons began to adjust to the increased strength of their grip—fortunately, Nicole had brought lots of empty cans—but at last they too were able to catch the flimsy cans without immediately crushing them.

"I thought it might spare some of the fragile items around your house, like glasses, musical instruments, doorknobs, and the like," Nicole said. "We thought about using raw eggs, but this seemed a neater solution."

"So, now what?" Amelia looked questioningly at her nominal subordinate. Kate's stomach growled at that moment. "Ah! Now we have supper, I see." The quintet snickered, and the final preparations for the meal were completed with all hands helping.

The collateral damage to the kitchen utensils was, thankfully, minimal.

The table had needed both extra leaves installed to make enough room, but everyone clustered around one end, with Amelia at the head of the table. Nicole and Kate sat on one side, and Trish and Artemis occupied the other. The cats stropped each set of legs around the table, before tucking into their own meal.

The main course was a cream of broccoli with cheddar cheese soup, which was served in hollowed out, homemade, bread boules, that was tasty and filling. The discussions around the table were limited to casual conversations about family and friends.

After a few samples of the soup, Nicole took a sip from the bottle set at her place, blinked, and took another sip. "Oooh! Kate, have you tried this stuff? It's wonderful!"

Kate put her spoon down, and sampled the beverage. "Wow! Amelia, this is something! Where did you get it?"

"It's an English import called Blackthorn hard cider. It took some work to find a local vendor, but it tastes so much better than anything produced in the states that it's worth it, and I like the flavor better than most beers."

The green salad that followed the soup set the stage nicely for the dessert—a homemade apple pie that was light on sugar, generous with cinnamon, and altogether delicious.

After the last crumb of piecrust was corralled and consumed, Nicole sat back with a contented sigh. "Amelia, that was a spectacular meal! It was even better, I think, than the last time I was here."

Nicole's comment drew strong agreement from the other two visitors. After a little time for the meal to settle, and more of the cider, the five teamed up to clear the table. It took little time before the group relocated to the living room area; the cats parked on the laps of their humans, as the after dinner conversation commenced.

Amelia looked relieved as she finally had a chance to ask a question that had nagged at her for most of the week. "I think my first question is obvious, Nicole. Just how is it you know so much about the systems at work?"

"The short answer to your question is easy. It's because I've been working on systems a lot bigger and more complex than that for years, and I've worked on database systems longer than you've been alive." The bewildered look was answered with a gentle smile. "That's the short answer; the long answer is…."

It took less time than Nicole had expected to tell her tale. She'd told them her whole story, both her life as Tom Edwards, and since—though she carefully omitted any reference to the lingering issues with Artemis.

Trish sat silently as she tried to reconcile the reality of this tall, slender beauty with the story. Kate, because she'd heard the story before, found her eyes misting. She'd had time to see some of the price her friend had paid. Amelia shook her head slowly. "You poor thing," she finally said.

Nicole shook her head. "I made a promise, Amelia, and there was no limit to it. Rather like my wedding vows; when I said "for better or worse," I never put a limit on just how bad 'worse' could get." She smiled grimly. "I never put a limit on what I'd let God call me to do, either."

Trish turned to Kate. "You heard this story before?"

Kate snickered before answering. "Oh yeah! If you want a little more irony, it turns out that my dad was working with Tom on a project last year. Nicole was almost in a panic when my dad asked if she was Tom's daughter or niece."

There were a few more questions to Artemis, as the newcomers tried to understand more of her role in the situation. Inevitably, the major bone of contention between the queen and goddess came up.

"What about men? How will they fit in all this?"

Nicole caught Artemis' glare, but ignored it. She'd not start this job by being dishonest. "That point is one that Artemis and I haven't fully settled. Men destroyed the ancient Amazons, and they're our primary opponents today; Artemis thinks we need to keep men out of the nation. Despite that, and the fact that men will never have a command role in our nation, I believe we'll need their talents. Selectively, and carefully, but there will be some in advisory and training roles. We have a long time to settle the issue, though. It's not like I'll be going anywhere."

Trish caught the undertone in her voice. "You mean a lot more than you're saying."

Nicole nodded and explained her virtual immortality to the group. "I'll have to figure out how to keep a low profile, but it gives us time to settle the situation." Amelia looked sharply at her, but before she could speak, Nicole continued. "Yes, Amelia, that's one of the reasons why I said what I did about my successor; the only way I get out of this job is to die, or complete my assigned task -- however long that takes." She paused, lost for a moment in thoughts of the future, but quickly returned to the situation at hand, as a pleasant distraction from the present topic came to mind.

"Before I forget, we have a very accomplished musician among us! Trish, are you willing to give us a little concert?"

Trish was more than willing to accommodate the request, though she was very tentative in handling her guitar. As she began a quick warm-up, her eyes widened. She actually had to back off, as her new strength put vastly more stress on the strings; the strings had sounded like they were buzzing at times. She also found that she was easily able to play several riffs that were difficult to impossible before. ~Doc Watson, eat your heart out!~

She grinned, and launched into several of her favorite songs with the energy of a musician who truly loved her craft. At one point she looked at Nicole, gave a mischievous grin, and commented that she'd play and sing some oldies that some of the women might know a little better than the newer numbers. A medley of Woodie Guthrie, Pete Seeger, and Joan Baez followed, and Trish found an impromptu trio joining her robust lead, as Nicole and Kate picked up the melodies, and Amelia anchored the harmony with her strong alto voice.

After her little concert, Trish plucked idly at the guitar strings. "You know, that was harder than I'd expected. Trying to play softly enough on some passages was a challenge. I felt like I was playing everything more forte than I wanted to." She muted the strings and grinned as she continued, "But on the other hand, I can play for hours now."

"Okay," Nicole stepped in, "Kate needs to get home, and I do, too, before Angela returns. I'm not so worried about Trish, since she and I don't cross paths very much." She turned to the strawberry blonde. "Amelia, I know the opposition is around, and they're probably watching me. You have to make sure you don't treat me any differently at work, okay?"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Amelia stood and gave an elaborate curtsy.

"You!!" Nicole mock-fumed at the teasing as the other women giggled at the silliness.

Monday, March 5, 2001

Nicole and Angela's apartment

7:20AM EST

"You're in a good mood this morning. What did I miss yesterday?" Angela was indulging in a breakfast of biscuits with sausage gravy, as her roommate, Nicole, put the final touches on her egg, flipped it onto a piece of toast, and took her place at the table.

"I had a chance to spend some time with Amelia and Trish, yesterday. Between the company and the food, how could I not wake up in a good mood today?"

"That would be one way to explain it, I suppose." The dark-haired woman's face took on a mischievous look, and her eyes twinkled with humor. "You've been in this good a mood in the past, though the last time the evening before was a trifle noisier. I suppose the timing could have been a little different, though."

Her hair color clashed with the blush on her cheeks, and Nicole regretted the lack of ammunition for return fire in the tease war. "Don't complain. She's willing to help out in an attempt to salvage my cooking skills." It was a pea-shooter returning fire at a tank, but it was all she had—for now. She filed the incident away for future retribution; the two were settling into a comfortable companionship, heavily seasoned with good humor, but it required mental agility to keep the score even.

Her planning was interrupted by her companion. "You and Amelia seem to get along very well, and your background looks more suited to IT than field work. Are you sure you don't want to switch into the state-side support work?"

The long, red braid swung as her head shook. "I signed up to help Dr. Wing set up his specialized field team, and I'm looking forward to doing something different. Besides, I won't go back on my word to him." ~Or his boss.~ She noticed a speculative look on her roomie's face, and the curiosity and drive to excel that flowed though the emotions beneath the look.

Angela held her silence for the remainder of the meal, and the Amazon was left to wonder about the deeper thoughts left unspoken.

Hunter Security Offices - Washington

8:45AM

Connie settled primly into the chair in front of Rod's desk. That odd corner of her mind, the one that seemed to know a lot more than she did, insisted that she could relax with this man. She wiggled a little as she sat; she felt as if her clothing, or her frame, didn't quite fit.

"So, Connie, how did your trip to the recruiter go? Did you run across our target as we expected?"

She nodded, and was coaxed through a summary of the morning's events—including the useful extra data about the specialization the redhead had applied for. Connie also scored well on the ASVAB; though she didn't stand as high as Ms. Harrison, the young woman had been allowed her choice of specializations and had picked Intelligence. She was in a good position to keep an eye on their target.

"We're both due to report at the receiving station this coming week, if the paperwork is processed as quickly as they expect. The recruiter mentioned that he'd see that Ms. Harrison and I are assigned to the same room, just so we'd both have someone from near home around."

She paused. "Rod, have you ever run across someone who just makes you feel warm and welcome just by smiling at you?" At his nod, she continued. "When I walked in, she looked at me. Just her smile was so warm and ... I had a feeling like she was welcoming me into a safe place."

Rod frowned in concern. "Do you think you can do the job you're being sent to do, Connie? It's important that we find the Amazons before they can suck in someone like Ms. Harrison and get her into trouble." ~And it's more important to you than you know. I want my friend back!~

"Yes, sir. I understand how important it is. And, frankly, if I can keep someone like Ms. Harrison from getting hooked by this mysterious queen, I can wind up with someone who I'd like to have as a friend."

~Perhaps true, my now-female friend,~ Rod thought. ~If you don't find something, perhaps our bugs will; if that works out, maybe we can get you back the way you belong. If the bug-planting teams don't screw up, that is.~

"Rod, I really don't understand why we're dogging her steps so much. Do we have any information about her that I haven't seen?"

He shook his head, as much from frustration as in answer to the question. "No, we don't. That's part of the problem. You know how the weather service's lightning detectors can pick up strikes?" She nodded, and he continued. "Apparently there is a way to pick up on the bonding of the Amazon scepter with the new queen. We know roughly where—within a half-mile, anyway, and almost exactly when, it happened, but we can't track it afterward. That was why everyone was going crazy reviewing video tape and tracking down everyone they could find who'd gone through that area at the time." He sighed. "We found nothing, and no one, to give us a clue. We still have teams reviewing the list of people who went through Minneapolis at the proper time.

"We're tracking Miss Harrison because she's the only new arrival since the bonding. You know already that Artemis is known to be personally involved with Wing's company, and Harrison's arrival is too close to the right time frame to totally ignore."

"But she doesn't act at all like an Amazon! She was courteous and respectful to everyone at the recruiters, including the men. I read the profile, and the reports, and she seems to be a very warm, caring, friendly person."

The man shrugged. "We don't have any alternatives at the moment, and Central is putting a lot of pressure on. They've indicated that there will be changes in the organization here, if we can't find the queen. We need to do what we can, and if that means we chase a redheaded herring, then so be it. We have to at least look like we're doing something."

WGSS Offices

12:00 Noon

The field team's morning had been spent developing the information for tomorrow's department heads meeting. Each team member had his or her own area of responsibility, and Angela passed around her summary for a group review before sending it to her boss for inclusion in the report.

Nicole had also received an e-mail from David Stirling, 'requesting' that she join him in a lunchtime chat with Michael Wing. He'd apparently followed up on his complaint from the training session on Thursday.

It was an interesting meal.

From the outset, it seemed as though much of the reconciliation that had occurred during her absence from the company offices had been undone. Stirling felt as if he'd been blindsided—again—due to being left ignorant of crucial information. Michael had told him that she was more physically fit than she looked, but it was a comparison between a candle and a halogen lamp. His preparations had been useless.

"Doctor Wing, with all due respect, I cannot do my job if I do not have the most basic information about what I need to do! I'm at the point of deciding you need to find someone you can trust with the sort of information they need to do what you are asking of me."

The target of the colonel's frustration nodded. "Colonel, I truly understand your frustration. That said, you, of all people, understand the need for security. Nicole is, as you've found already," he paused, "unique. Her physical conditioning is exceptional. You know that her physical capabilities exceed anything you can easily reach; those abilities are untrained, however. You know from your own experience that it takes more than raw strength to be an effective warrior, David, and you've trained your SAS teams to know that, too. I'm asking you to put that training to use here."

The colonel nodded. "If there is anything else, anything at all, that will significantly impact this young woman's training, tell me now, or else find someone else to do it. I will not take responsibility for a task when I am kept so utterly in the dark." Stirling's face was immobile, but still reflected his deep frustration.

Michael nodded. "There is much going on that I would prefer you know, and in time you will be told, but at the moment it is all 'need-to-know'. At the proper time, I promise to tell you exactly what it's all about. The new team I intend for her to head will be targeted for environments like the Sudan, but I want their full capabilities to remain hidden." There was a long pause, before he continued. "What you teach her will be critical, David, for her and others. Yes, what I'm doing goes far beyond this company and its needs. I have to ask you to trust me."

Nicole had found herself a spectator in the exchange up to this point. The colonel was determined to resolve the situation to his own satisfaction before he would agree to continue, and Michael was unwilling to reveal more than was absolutely essential. Nicole found herself briefly wondering if angels could get testosterone poisoning.

~That's unfair. He knows as well as I do that the more people who know, the more chances that our cover will be blown.~

"Colonel, if you recall our conversation the day I first reported, I told you my life would depend on your training me as hard as possible. I have worked hard at running and strength training; that is, in part, why I was able to easily manage your tests. I also have an exceptional reaction time. I need help in learning to make effective use of my capabilities in a military setting."

David snapped his attention to the previously silent woman.

She continued, "This is the essence of what I was referring to, though Doctor Wing has yet to enlighten me as to everything he has in mind."

After lunch, Nicole found Amelia just entering the server room and joined her on the way in. Outwardly, the blonde was her usual, composed self; Nicole felt an underlying anxiety that was entirely out of character. There was much to say about the meeting during lunch, and even more about work, but the anxiety the queen felt from her new sister had to be dealt with.

Amelia's feelings were no surprise; yesterday their relationship had changed so profoundly that they were effectively starting over from scratch. Nicole could feel the uncertainty, along with warm, steady love, across the 'bond' she had with each of her sisters. She also felt the links to Trish and Kate; they were plain, now that she knew what to look for.

~I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Suddenly, Amelia finds that her 'new hire' is effectively twice her age, and has more years working with computers than she's been alive. It's a hard situation for a manager to face.~

The two walked into the empty server room, and Nicole finally broke the awkward silence. "Do you feel like talking about it, Amelia? I know something's bothering you, but I can't help if you won't tell me what it is."

The young woman grimaced at her nominal subordinate. "You have to be kidding! You should be the one in charge here, not me. I've sworn myself into your service, and you've forgotten more about systems like this than I've learned."

"But...." Nicole hid her smile; Amelia was smart enough that the Socratic method would work well; she would wind up answering her own questions.

"But it would look suspicious for a newbie out of school to walk in and take over."

"Among other things. I can do little things, such as the tests I'm running, that will help. I'll teach you all I can while I'm here, but I can't afford to do too much in the open, since I need to keep my cover as a bright, but young, new graduate. If the bad guys get a whiff of who I am, they might decide to eliminate a threat on general principles."

"Are they that cold-blooded?"

"The 'people'," Nicole made air-quotes around the word, "who head our opponents are descendents of the same group that systematically exterminated our sisters the first time around. What do you think? For the moment, just treat me in public as if I lucked out, and found something easy to follow up on and leverage. We'll generate the background data, and you can present the preliminary results tomorrow. In private, you should use me as a consultant; ask questions, or toss problems in my lap that you want looked at."

The blonde grimaced. "It still doesn't seem right, but if we must. I guess we should take a look at your test results."

The afternoon was a crash course for Amelia in the subtleties of database system setup. Nicole walked her friend through each test and its results, pointing out that even small things, such as pre-loading index tables, could have a marked effect on the throughput of the overall system.

It was a typical session for a mentor and new employee, though the roles had reversed from what anyone outside the room had expected. Each test was reviewed, and the results checked, as the two women looked for patterns to reveal the adjustments required.

The preliminary report was ready by the end of the day, with the executive summary in the distribution packet for Joanne's meeting tomorrow. There hadn't been enough time to properly cover the lunchtime meeting, and since it was Nicole's turn to fix supper, they agreed to meet at Amelia's later in the evening.

David Stirling's Home

7:20PM EST

He hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and gazed thoughtfully into the distance beyond the warmly lit den's walls.

Graham's call had come unexpectedly, given the late hour in England, yet the information was worth the sharing. The pattern of attack was the same as several others that had been seen recently, though the systems were new to the list. The frequency was increasing slowly, and had been for some time. Stirling's data had been an outlier though; all the other systems to that point were security support for airports, ocean shipping, and railways. Several military systems had been probed, but at a far lower rate.

The systems behind the systems engaged in the electronic assault on Wing's systems were known, however. They were part of a group that had been used in other probes, and the owners of those systems were being sought.

It was still all disjointed information, despite the increasing frequency of attempted intrusions. There had to be a point to the attacks, but none had been divined so far.

~We're still on our own on the network attacks.~

He mentally filed the incident, and turned his attention back to the preparation of Ms. Harrison for boot camp.

~I think the young lady isn't quite what any of us have been led to believe, nor are her abilities anything that could be anticipated.~ He closed his eyes and sighed. ~And just how do I train someone like that? The easy and obvious tasks are unnecessary.~

He stood and walked to a bookcase. It held books—training manuals, notebooks, and personal journals—that he had used to take trained, hardened soldiers and turn them into the special warriors that made up the Special Air Service. He scanned through several, quickly returning each to its place. At last, he laid his hand on the journal he'd sought, and an almost devilish grin appeared on his face.

~Oh, yes! We might have some useful tools after all, even for someone with her strength and speed.~

He chuckled and set the book down, then sought another as he planned the next evening's activities. The prospect of giving free rein to his imagination as he prepared the training regimen—to prepare something that would have reduced the best of his SAS troopers to a whimpering, quivering wreck—became an irresistible treat.

Tuesday, March 6, 2001

WGSS Conference Room

10:45AM EST

"In summary, Angela's team is well ahead of schedule in entering their data, and Ted's team is just finishing their package for the client. We're in position to meet both milestones in time for early completion bonuses." David clicked the presentation to the last slide. "Any questions?"

Joanne nodded. "How is your new trainee working out?"

"She's been a challenge, to be honest. Angela's had to work to keep up with her, and I am forced to rework my training program. Nicole's physical conditioning is excellent, so I'm skipping the basics of the schedule. Instead, I am in the process of adding some of the routines used for Special Operations training, which sharpen extremely fit bodies even more. I think I can make it ... interesting for her."

There was a general chuckle around the conference table, and Joanne grinned as she remarked, "I almost feel sorry for her. Any last comments before we move on?"

"Yes, and this touches on Amelia's department. I regret that I cannot provide details on the systems that have been a nuisance, but they are known to be used for other attacks on government systems around the world. My contact was grateful for the additional data, and has promised to inform us if any data comes to light which may be shared."

"Very good. Amelia?"

The IT department report touched on the status of the systems in place, and the purchase of additional storage. The system load projections showed an alternate usage prediction with an abrupt drop, and Amelia referred to the report that explained the testing and its results. She was perplexed by a murmur—inaudible to anyone without her enhanced hearing—from Joanne, "I wonder if this isn't another stirred pot?"

Despite the slight distraction, Amelia briefly touched on the main points of interest and the conclusion that, should the detailed analysis confirm the initial analysis, an upgrade to the processor array planned for the next fiscal year could be postponed.

"Nicole was the one to suggest the tests, though we worked together to analyze the results. She ran them over the weekend, and we spent yesterday afternoon examining the system logs and test output. We still need to double check everything, but we believe we can improve system response time by at least fifty percent."

There was a quiet muttering around the room; the databases were a core resource for the business, and that kind of improvement would be a large boost to the bottom line.

Joanne asked, "How long to you expect it will take to produce your final report?"

Amelia thought for a moment. ~If it were just me, I'd expect it to be the end of next week. Given Nicole's ability, who knows?~ "We can have it completed by the end of next week."

"Good; is there anything else?"

"My staff and I have also tried some additional investigations regarding the network attacks. We've tried contacting some other system administrators, as well as attempting to locate the owners of the systems we know about. The contact data, despite ICANN regulations, appears to be bogus. We've come up empty so far."

Lunch had passed without Amelia seeing Nicole, and she made her way to the server room with as much haste as possible. The redhead was parked in front of a terminal, and so focused on the task at hand that she didn't appear to notice the new arrival.

"I missed you at lunch, Nicole. Did you have anything to eat?"

The start of the woman at the terminal was comical, and Amelia found herself laughing quietly as she walked up. "Don't tell me you skipped eating?" she asked as she reached the desk.

Nicole looked abashed as she turned to face her 'boss.' "I was on my way to the break room when I had a thought about our testing. I was just going to take a quick look...."

"... and you got so hooked that you forgot to quit. Okay, out of here! Go grab something to eat, and don't come back until you're done."

The tall redhead slunk out of the room, followed by comments about having to assign someone to make sure she took care of herself.

The break room was quiet as she walked in to pull her meal from the refrigerator, and she ate quickly as her brain buzzed with issues she wanted to explore. A squeak of rubber on the vinyl floor tile brought her attention to the doorway as the vending machine service person rolled his cart into the room.

It was a thoroughly unremarkable sight, until she felt an intense spike of panic from the man pushing the cart. The panic hardly diminished as he began servicing and reloading the machines. The young woman studiously avoided looking in his direction as she ate, concerned that any overt reaction on her part would further spook the young man.

~I wonder why he's so worried?~ She kept a casual watch on him as he worked down the row of equipment, ending at the snack machine. Her lunch was gone by that point, and suddenly she had a hunger for some chocolate covered peanuts.

~I wonder what reaction this will get,~ she thought as she stood and walked toward him.

The man's face paled to the point that she wondered if she'd have to call for an ambulance, and the fear that rolled off him was almost painful. His hands shook as he tried to hurry. Nicole watched him, apparently indifferent to his activities, but she examined the inside of the vending machine as he restocked. All he saw when he looked around was a slight smile. He fumbled as he closed and locked the machine; the squeaking of the wheels seemed to be rather faster and louder now, as compared to his arrival.

She walked slowly back to the server room, and shook her head at the questioning look she received as she entered. She needed to consider what had happened before discussing it, even with Amelia.

Nicole's Apartment

10:00PM EST

~He's a monster! He can't be human!~

Nicole dragged herself in through the door, and the light of the apartment revealed a sweaty, bedraggled form. Angela's lips quivered, but held her comment as the redhead made her way to the kitchen.

A tall glass of juice and a pair of energy bars restored much of Nicole's energy, and slowly her mood as well.

Angela, in a fit of kindness, refrained from teasing her roommate and retired early. Nicole was left to sip a refilled glass of juice as she pondered the simple effectiveness of the evening's training.

There was no attempt to simply run her to exhaustion, nor weights applied to the point of physical collapse. David used far more subtle and effective means to accomplish his goals. He applied extra weights to each of her limbs, but then worked her through slow, precise exercises as he began instructing her in the martial arts. By the end of the time, her limbs were quivering from the effort to control the trajectory of her hands and feet.

She had seen his surprise, at first, at her strength and endurance; the surprise turned to satisfaction as the first tremors in her muscles began. The slow, steady loads had achieved what any normal burden couldn't have. He refrained from either scolding or praise at the end of the session, limiting his comments to an affirmation of the next meeting on Thursday.

The nourishment circulated through her system, and the redhead chuckled. ~He's good. He's very, very good at what he does.~ The combination of techniques would, she was sure, make sure she was in complete control of her strength when she got to Parris Island.

She sniffed, wrinkled her nose in distaste at her own 'eau de athlete', and headed for her room. ~I need a shower. No way I can sleep like this.~

David Stirling's Home

10:20PM EST

~She's absolutely phenomenal!~

The man shook his head in wonder at the quality of the raw material he had to work with in Ms Harrison. She was unskilled, that was obvious, but when he considered the pure strength of those slender limbs, it was almost frightening.

He'd found that a combination of tai-chi, aikido, and the weights were effective in developing the strength, endurance, and precise self-control—both mental and physical—required for SAS and SBS teams.

In the years of his work in training soldiers, he had developed the ability to gauge what kind of capabilities they had from the length of time they could endure the slow, steady burden of the weights. Tonight, as the young woman had managed to work her way through exercise after exercise, he'd concluded that she could manage to lift at the very least seven-hundred pounds, if her frame was capable of bearing the strain. Possibly much more than that, as he wasn't at all sure his measurement method scaled to that extreme level. He'd succeeded in reaching her limit of controlled endurance, and that would suffice for his needs at the moment.

He poured himself a drink, and wondered how else he could adjust his training for someone like this utterly remarkable young woman.

~I wonder if there are any more like her out there?~

(continued)







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