Life as a New Hire Ch. 13

Felix should have checked his baggage at the door. Competing for the same lady was fine -- even fun. Picking one to punish another...not cool. I had to think about my response as I barely made it in for my Constanza time. Wisely, I left my baggage at the door. These were firearms we were dealing with -- a danger to me and the people around me.

I was in my biking outfit today. More looks. The decision was that I'd go for my Glock-22, a .38 Ruger LCR back-up, a South Korean-made shotgun that looked like an M-16 and a very unhealthy looking device called a Heckler & Koch UMP 40 (which I had never even heard of). Wait...it got worse. I was scheduled for knife fighting training at 3 p.m. -- every day for the foreseeable future.

Constanza didn't want to help me breath, much less train. That was okay. I left my shirt in the weapons' room so the second I hit the shooting booth Magical Amazon Fey appeared to impart their wisdom, and body shapes to me. Oh God! I dropped a clip between my feet. The two ladies nearly head-butted in a race to get.

The loser frowned. The winner was able to determine my ankles were strong, my calves were implant free -- guys do that occasionally, and my thigh was definitely recovering. Without a doubt, my rod was happy to feel her hand. I retrieved my magazine from her unresisting hand. Then I did some shooting. With three clips I proved to be faster yet less accurate, more accurate yet slower and lastly a balance between the two.

I wasn't better than yesterday. It was yesterday. I did marginally worse with the .38 Ruger, better with the shotgun and I had a blast with the H&K. Was I accurate? NO...but this killing machine was loads of fun to fire off a clip at full-auto. According to 'my' Amazons I looked so adorable pouting when I was told I'd fired off the last magazine. I repeat -- loads of fun.

Amazons are a dedicated martial culture, I was definitely a delicious male bouncing up and down gleefully while begging 'Fuck Me! Fuck Me!' Not actually. I was enthusiastically asking for another clip, but I could tell how my words were being echoed inside their brains.

"Behave yourself, Male!" Constanza snapped angrily. I fell on my knees, hands presented in supplication.

"Please, please, please, please," I begged.

"Oh, give him another magazine," two of my shooting companions requested.

"I can't believe we are in the same unit," Constanza sneered, "rubbing against him like over-drunk un-casted." Hmmm, that probably meant teenagers -- before they chose a profession.

"Constanza, they are all aggressive, dominant members of the Host," I rose (verbally) to their defense. "They are not afraid of their sexuality and they are certainly not afraid of me. What are they doing wrong? They are helping me concentrate (totally false) on the task at hand. I would think you would be pleased that I'm receiving such encouragement, meaning you are more likely to succeed at your task."

"You don't even know why you are here," she glared.

"I imagine you are here for the same reason I am -- to serve our superiors," I replied. "Do you think that I don't want to sleep in an extra hour...," I looked to my new buddies, "Okay, I used to want to sleep in that extra hour, but the point is the same."

"These are our hours. Why not make the most of it as opposed to letting the circumstances make us miserable?" I reasoned.

"Constanza," Naomi, the only shooting buddy to give me a name so far, "you are out of line. He is on our side now and he has the battle scars to prove it."

"Never," Constanza growled out her challenge.

"That is not your decision to make," Naomi met that challenge. "He is down here. He is courageous, loyal and undaunted."

"Besides, if you hate him that much, getting a hunting license for him like the rest of us."

Fantastic (sarcasm), I was popular with Amazonia's professional military.

"Just remember, I get to hunt you ladies right back," I grinned. They thought that was funny. "If I capture you, you are mine all-weekend long -- yummy. Then, on Monday, it's back to normality and me running for my life."

"Do you really think you can take any of us?" Naomi chuckled. The others laugh. Even Constanza was darkly amused.

"Let me see...I was never a Boy Scout, I'm not ex-military, or even a backwoodsman," I mused. "Still, I never thought I'd be shot with an arrow, or stabbed with a spear either, so I'm actually upbeat about my chances."

"Besides, I'm going to wear a black bear suit as camouflage." Pause. "Damn it. I probably shouldn't have told you that," I grimaced. More chuckles.

"I've watched ummm...Dual Survival...most of one episode...I've been so lost in the wilderness to the point I couldn't see the road...I've made love to a Park Ranger...I've been so drunk that I hunted a grown moose with a ballpeen hammer...that's about it for me."

"I am going to enjoy being the first one to catch you," Naomi purred.

"Be careful, Naomi," I cautioned her. "I'm part lemur. It was the same experiment that made Constanza part Tasmanian Devil -- those are some cranky-ass bitches."

"Are you really going to run fast?" another Amazon teased me.

"Hell yeah," I nodded as I stood. No extra magazines for me today. "I'm going to pick some compass point and run at it with everything I have."

"You are lying," Naomi nudged me. They weren't pissed; this was 'warfare' thus deception was not only allowed, it was expected.

"Without a hint of regret," smiled at her. We were suddenly really close again. "I may run, I may hide, or I may double back. That is the prey's advantage." This was fine to the ladies around me. I was prey. I was fine with being prey. I was having fun being prey which made the promised encounter to be new and exciting.

Amazons didn't hunt turtles -- they hunted dangerous things that hunted other things. Was I dangerous? Constanza was a living testimonial of that -- the scar just above her left elbow. This didn't imply respect and acceptance -- no way, no how. It was impossible to believe I would ever replace one of...craptastic. Katrina was too damn smart -- far smarter than me for sure.

I wouldn't have figured it out this soon except for something Oneida said -- 'The Ash Men'. Who were they and why was calling someone that a good thing? A few more live-fires with a bit of instruction. With all the 'sisters' willing to show me improved stance and firing techniques, Constanza felt the desire to be in another room.

As I was finally departing for my real job, an Amazon with clear Amerindian blood, put a hand to my chest before I could exit out the hallway door.

"How much of disaster is he?" she asked Naomi. I seriously thought about doing a takedown then I reasoned I really didn't want to see Traska's teary-eyed face looking down at my shattered form.

"He's passable for a beginner," Naomi answered.

"What are you talking about?" I protested. "I'm freaking awesome. I point the boom-stick at...whatever you call them...pull that trigger-thingy and the bullets go in a direction that doesn't hurt me. Honestly, this crap is easy." The copper chick grabbed my chin quick as a snake.

"Your opinion was not solicited," she menaced, "you ignorant toad-turd." On second thought -- I hit her. I'm pretty quick too. My fist connected with her diaphragm because she was not only not expecting me to lash out, she masked my movements by having her right limb holding my chin. She recoiled, I assumed my boxing stance and Naomi clubbed me down from behind.

Let's not forget who, what and where I was. I was dogpiled, yanked up then had Bitchy Amerindian chick pop me twice in the gut.

"You are going to be caned for that," she hissed.

"Fuck you!" I shouted back. Fist to the head. That was going to leave a mark.

"I look forward to hearing you scream," she threatened.

"Huh? What? You are still here? Something swished past me and I thought it was you leaving," I joked.

"Do you want to die?" Naomi hissed in my ear.

"Let me go and we'll all find out," I replied.

"Let him go," Bitchy chick ordered. They let me go. That was not a good sign.

"I'm Cáel Nyilas. I -- ah...I'm from the Magyars," I introduced myself.

"I don't care," she glared.

"Fine. Do you want to take this to the mats upstairs, or do you prefer we fight in a room full of firearms?" I asked.

"This won't take long," she assumed a stance I'd never seen before. I didn't know its official name, but it had 'pain' written all over it.

"A little room here?" I prodded the five Amazons standing behind me. My important unknown assailant waved them back to the walls. Constanza was livid, so I could already count this as a victory of sorts. My opponent swiveled on the ball of her left foot. It was a feint. I feinted too -- I acted like I was going to fight. I ran away as she made her low, sweeping kick.

I vaulted the table before she could catch me. Now she had a dilemma. If she came over the top, she'd be limiting her mobility and I was gambling hers was a very fluid style. If she moved around the table...as she did, it gave me time to grab my Glock and some ammo and keep running. I put a bullet in the chamber right as Constanza and her two feminazis drew there 9mms.

I was staring down the sight of my .40 S&W Glock at copper chick. Oh, she wasn't afraid in the least. She was pissed.

"Right, or left?" I inquired.

"Put the gun down, or you are dead!" Constanza commanded.

"I'm confused," I stated calmly. "Do I do what she says (copper chick) -- she is clearly someone important, or do I do what you say, Constanza?"

"PUT IT DOWN!" Constanza screamed. Copper chick waved the guns down slowly.

"Right, or left?" Copper chick inquired. "**** St. Marie," she gave me her name.

Mistress of the Golden Mare had to be something so not good.

"Right, or left earlobe," I explained. "You wanted to see how accurate I am. Here is your chance."

"If you miss, you could kill me," she gave the slightest hint of amusement. Psycho.

"Life is full of tragedies," I sighed. "If it is any consolation, I'd have less than a second to appreciate my many failings."

"Gun," she ordered. I chambered the round out, caught it and handed them both to St. Marie.

"Glock -- 22?" she questioned.

"Mmmm...the woman who taught me to shoot always felt the 9 mm was underpowered and I never felt truly at ease with the .45," I enlightened her.

"You were trained by an outsider woman?" St. Marie asked as she put the gun and bullet on the table.

"Yes. See she was short with this tight gymnast's body and found me inherently untrustworthy, so I used a fake fascination with firearms to seduce her," I related. "It turns out we both received an education."

"Is that why you are here?" she tilted her head to examine me from an owl's angle. "Seduction?"

"Oh God no!" I swore. "This place scares the crap out of me. You are all professional man-killers and I just happen to be a man. Putting a gun in my hand doesn't make me feel safe. No place in this building is safe, but this section is especially lethal."

"Are you brave, or cowardly?" she mused.

"Those are words taken out of context of any given situation. If given an exit from a hopeless fight, I'm out of there. You come between me and someone I really care about, I'll rip out your eyes and skull-fuck you," I grinned. "I am brave and cowardly on my own terms." She punched me in the stomach again.

"I owed you that," she commented serenely. She blocked my left jab, but missed my right upper-cut. Then it was all her. I really couldn't keep track of everything she did to me, but it was over quickly. I was left staring up at the ceiling with St. Marie standing to my side. She offered me a hand up.

"What? Had enough already?" I groaned.

"I have been told you don't have much 'quit' in you," she commented then motioned with her hand once more. I took it and let her pull me to a standing positon.

"Quit? Quitting is something you do at five o'clock," I mumbled.

"Speaking of which -- this had been a blast. Feel free to come down here and kick my ass tomorrow morning. Right now, I'm Katrina's bitch and I need to get going," I weakly joked.

"I'll come with you," St. Marie stated.

"Honestly, I'm already terrified of you. You don't need to rub it in," I declared.

"I am going to see Katrina, where you are is irrelevant to me," St. Marie informed me.

"Oh, in that case, let me slink along in your shadow. By the way, my Christian name is Renfield," I noted seriously. She looked at me as we walked down the hallway.

"I have read Dracula before," she studied me.

"Amazons read!" I gasped. "With all of this colored-coded crap around here, I assumed you were all illiterate."

"You are interesting," she nodded. AH SHIT! Not interesting again. The Amory guards didn't notice either of us. We took the elevator up, stopped at the ground floor to pick Brielle and her companion.

"Hey Cáel," Brielle chuckled. "Where is Naomi?" Turning to St. Marie. "Hi, I'm Brielle. I haven't seen you around here before." St. Marie blinked.

"You are popular," St. Marie mocked at me. Wasn't she kicking my ass three minutes ago?

"I'm the corporate clown. It is a position of great significance here," I grimaced.

"Ladies, this is a recent transfer from the boonies -- Moose Jaw, or someplace like that," I said. "Here name is St. Marie. She'd got some impressive sounding stuff in front of her name. Something about horses." Now the two other girls blinking in surprise.

"We apologize," Brielle and her buddy bowed slightly. "We didn't realize."

"I am sure Cáel's deep reverence was the source of your mistake," St. Marie nodded then, "His wounds don't bother you?"

"Cáel is always getting into a fight with somebody. If it wasn't for our advanced healing arts, he wouldn't be able to stand," Brielle replied.

"Why do you keep getting in fights?" St. Marie looked at me. I was sure she had reports of every altercation I'd been in since starting.

"Life on my knees is hard," I shrugged. "I prefer to stand whenever I can and only bow to the Worthy."

"Me?" St. Marie mused. She wasn't really asking my opinion. That was fantasy.

"Yeah, you qualify. After that upper cut...I'm not sure what you did to me. My eyes don't track that fast. The next thing I was sure of, I was lying on my back and you were staring down at me with the expression of 'do I have a hangnail'," I related.

"You don't have my respect for kicking my ass though," I grinned. "You have my respect because after you administered your lesson, you stopped. Restraint is an undervalued commodity." The door opened. I gave a quick good-bye wave to Brielle and friend.

"Do you think your opinion matters to me," St. Marie posed. I had to think about that.

"Yes," I answered. She studied me. "You are smarter than most, meaning you are far more likely to kill me than your garden variety murderer who works here. You don't respect me, but you acknowledge me. Honestly, it is the best I can hope for right now."

"Does it occur to you that you are too bright?" St. Marie inquired.

"There is no such thing," I replied. "The failing is letting people know how bright you are. Can I ask you something?"

"No."

"I'm asking anyway. Is Elsa okay?" I pressed it. She looked at me again.

"Why do you ask?" St. Marie stopped us outside Katrina's door. I wanted to be smarmy, but I wasn't. Katrina and Elsa deserved better.

"Me being downstairs, you opposed to that and you having a mean, vindictive streak," I answered. "That worries me. Elsa annoys the crap out of me, but I don't want to be the source of any trouble for her."

"You put a hand on Katrina and I don't care which of the 31 Flavors your pony is; we are going at it again," I promised.

"Interesting," she kept studying. "At the Archery range, when the child ran at you, you ran the other way -- why?"

"I draw strength from kindness and love -- something you ladies are sorely lacking in," I expressed. "I owe Katrina my life and I owe Aya my heart. The rest of you are monsters and can burn in hell for all I care."

"Do you consider yourself adopted into House Epona?" she kept quizzing me.

"I have an actually job to do here," I reminded St. Marie. Sigh. "I am not a member of House Epona, the Host, or even a 'Runner'," I said. "I'm a male. I'm one too many flippant remarks, one lady having a bad day, or one political expediency away from death. A few women might speak in my defense, but none of them would stop my execution. That is my reality."

"You should be running away from Havenstone as fast as you can. You are brave, resourceful and have a minute chance of dying a masculine death," she advised me. I laughed.

"When you grow a set of testes we can revisit the issue of male priorities and motivations," I grinned. "Until then, you have your version of loyalty and I have mine."

St. Marie opened the door and went in with me following along. The meeting was in process. We were flashed concerned looks for multiple reasons -- Pony-Goddess St. Marie in her sports bra and boy shorts, me in biker pants, biking shoes and nothing else, and me being late. Katrina gave the two of us a momentary notice then proceeded with her meeting.

"Katrina," St. Marie interrupted. Katrina responded with an icy stare.

"You are interrupting -- make it quick," Katrina stated calmly.

"Then I'll wait until you finish," St. Marie responded with her own false politeness. She randomly meandered around Katrina's office making a nuisance of herself.

I resumed my place in the line-up in time to get my work-review from Katrina. I rocked at my job. Apparently I was purloining corporate resources for a prototype gravity device that would crash the Moon into the Earth. My crime was that my project was over-budget...oh yeah, and I'd end all life on Earth.

"Cáel, I am unsure if I should order you to work harder, or not to try so hard," Katrina worried.

"First off, I apologize for being late and under-dressed today. I meant no disrespect and I have no excuse. I'm being stabbed repeatedly with a knife at three o'clock if that helps?" I offered.

"Really?" Katrina arched an eyebrow.

"Really," I confirmed. "Then I get to carry around one of those cool knives like the rest of this merry band here."

"My breast implants -- I'm going for a respectable 'B' -- go in next Wednesday. Two weeks later and I'm off to Denmark to get my 'franks and beans' cut-off and tucked," I tried to sound serious.

"A few hair extensions and I'll be one of the team for real," I grinned.

"Katrina, why do you put up with this?" St. Marie seethed.

"St. Marie, it is not your station to question me, or my orders," Katrina countered. "Still, a lesson is in order."

"Daphne, do you like working with Cáel?" Katrina regarded her female 'new hire'.

"He is more than funny -- and very attractive," Daphne responded. "He provides insight into life that a normal Amazon wouldn't have access to. He instructs with humor and bravery in equal measure."

"Fabiola?"

"He is a waste of resources best put elsewhere," Fabiola insisted. "He is a source of dissension. We would be better training him and others like him to replace our diseased stock." I took some small level of comfort that the other 'new' hires were almost as offended as I was, though I couldn't show it.

"Tigger?"

"He was a vessel for the will of our ancestors," she replied. "What more proof do we need that he is necessary around here?"

"Does anyone have anything different to add?" Katrina gazed over the others. No one spoke.

"That's why '****' St. Marie," Katrina assumed a dark goddess-like aura. "Now apologize."

"Apologize for questioning you?" St. Marie snorted. "Hardly. You are using my people and my facilities to train a male in a manner not approved of by the Council."