Linda was still wondering whether to pinch herself or just shrug and go with the flow. She was feeling like someone who’d been woken up in the middle of the night, brought into a dark room, threatened with incarceration and a death sentence and then loaded into a high-speed military plane and made to fight for the homeland.
Only this wasn’t her homeland. This wasn’t even her planet… But at least now, in this moment, after she had been led to one of the small, but cosy rooms in the Warden barracks, she could sit down and gather her thoughts in peace.
The human psyche dislikes contradictions or dissonance of any sort - even if you know nothing about psychology, this is a realisation we all come to intuitively over the course of our lives. What fewer of us seem to reflect upon however is what this means exactly and how it affects the decisions we make. Because in the spirit of Universal irony, the path of least resistance for the conscious mind more often than not creates more tension than relief in the long run.
Let’s take Linda as an example - she had found herself in an unknown environment with unknown people with some agenda which was completely unfathomable to her at this point. Right now in her head her innate and reinforced her whole life fear of the unknown was locked in a fierce battle with her also innate, but no nearly as supported, curiosity. Her ego was struggling to find a way to balance these two conflicting points of view and to make a decision which would potentially satisfy both. But contrary to expectation, it is precisely the middle road which is the hardest to follow in reality. Simply because it is so much easier to stray a little to the left or to the right and fall into extreme.
Extremes are significantly more convenient, for they are rigid. They do not require anything other than to follow their rules and expectations without fail, and that’s basically it. Balance is much more stressful and demanding - it insists that everything is constantly changing and therefore anyone who wishes to follow it should be agile enough to continually adapt to the new, to never for one moment step out of sync with reality with its daily challenges. It was no wonder then that so few of the inhabitants of her home planet Earth had the capacity and energy to keep up and arrange their lives as they wished. Many called it luck, but luck is just an abstract concept, created by people with a very limited perception of the intricate workings of the Universe, let alone Balance itself.
Linda was still part of these people’s group. And this is precisely why she couldn’t comprehend at that moment that for the first time in her life (or the life after), she was going to make the right decision. For the moment she was doing so under pressure from external sources - given that the alternative was certain death, the instinctive part of her brain insisted she choose to go on this mission that the Ruling over sea had laid out before her. Not that she wasn’t aware at some level that the task at hand surely presented more serious danger, which could without a doubt prove fatal as well. But this was still in the future. And no matter what we’d like to think, even the most far-sighted person would make decisions based on the immediate problem. Everything seems far off and unreal while it still hasn’t happened.
It was precisely this train of human thought that the powerful people on Earth were counting on to be able to pass some of their less popular policies. Apparently, the rulers on Alaiah had adopted the same approach. People are more likely to compromise with something still out of their grasp, far away or in the future.
Linda sighed heavily and stood up from the small bunk bed she was sitting on, to take a look at the clothes hanging from the door of the dresser. She stood like that for a while, in front of the mirrored doors, staring into her reflection. The body she was currently inhabiting looked very much like her own, which was surely lying twisted on a cold metal slab in a morgue somewhere. There were however some significant differences, she noticed as she was taking off the clothes that her new physical form had come with. For instance - her shoulders were a bit wider and her arms, abdomen and thighs were significantly more fit and muscular. Despite all these upgrades however she looked like a malnourished imp next to Wint, let alone the Ruling with her towering height and intimidating presence.
This was precisely why the clothes she’d been given, as she was led to this very room, were somehow hanging pretty loosely around her. They were quite big - she had to roll up the tunic sleeves a few times before she could see her hands again and she did the same with the trousers. Thankfully, at least the armoured bodice was a perfect fit. This item of clothing impressed her the most. It looked so thin and simple, but Wint had explained on the way that the fabric it was made of reacts to impact in such a way that it becomes hard and almost impenetrable. Apparently, this was standard issue apparel for every Warden of AWA.
She looked at her reflection again after getting dressed and something about it made her smile. As far as she could remember, she had never felt as confident in her looks, although her outfit was as far away from the earthly standards of feminine wear as it could get. It was just a grey tunic on top of a pair of black work trousers with multiple pockets. Still, she felt as though she could jump over an entire mountain - it was so comfortable and looked so surprisingly good on her. Furrowing her brows a bit, as if debating something internally, she reached for the drawer and picked up a hairband. She used it to tie her hair in a ponytail.
Still staring at her reflection, she didn’t hear the opening of the door at first, or the Warden who came in and had to cough quite loud to be paid attention. Thankfully, the heavy military shoes she was given didn’t let her jump in fright, so she managed to hide the sign of shock as she was turning on her heels to the woman.
“Her Majesty expects you in the armoury”, the Warden intoned, slowly, as if she were speaking to a mentally challenged person. She must’ve hear somehow that the girl in front of her thought she came from another planet. “Please, follow me.”
Linda simply nodded. She didn’t want to give any more reasons for the local folk to think her mad anymore than absolutely necessary. Here’s why she made an effort to keep quiet the whole way from the barracks to the armoury. The entrance to it was quite well hidden by the well-manicured bushes surrounding the building they came out of. The Warden squatted a little, without losing Linda from her sight and felt up the ground around her, looking for something. She grabbed an elongated rock, which turned out to be a lid, hiding a softly lit control panel and she punched some combination of the buttons which had elegant curves printed on them - could these be numbers? A muted click later, two handles slowly rose up from the ground next to the panel. The Warden grabbed them and without any visible effort sprung the wings of the entrance open. They looked quite heavy and all metal, Linda remarked as she struggled to wipe the shocked expression off her face. She followed the woman down the stairs they uncovered.
This was her first time ever in any sort of armory and she had zero expectations about this one and what it should look like, and yet she found herself quite fascinated. And they hadn’t even reached the inventory itself with its actual weapons and all. The stairs ended in a long underground corridor, clad in thick metal walls - it made her think of old photos of Second World War bunkers she had seen in school. Only this place was a lot newer and better maintained. There were even a few paintings on the walls, scattered haphazardly on both sides and she was grateful that the Warden was ahead of her by a step or so so she couldn’t see her turn like a bobble head doll to look at them all.
Of course, these were depictions of battle scenes - many women in armour, similar to the one worn by the Wardens of AWA, waving around a variety of weapons. Two things in particular stood out to her - first, apparently all weapons on Alaiah, both cold and fire, were elongated, slightly wider on both ends and either their blades or their ammo had long ridges or holes cut out in the middle. Obviously, people here also had the subconscious drive to design weapons of destruction, emulating the genitals of the sex, proclaimed as strong, by the sheer fact that they had been given the opportunity, since ancient times, to join the army and inflict violence on other cultures and peoples.
Second, and more shocking - on almost all of the painting there were at least a few visibly pregnant women who had proudly jumped into action, apparently unperturbed by the fact that their bellies took turns half a minute before them. This fact also didn’t seem to bother the artists, because it was precisely this group of women which was depicted in the most heroic poses, looming over the dead bodies of their enemies with chilling grins.
Linda was abruptly shaken out of her thoughts, when the Warden who was leading her suddenly stopped in front of the two large wings of a massive metal door. They had arrived. The woman simply nodded to her and pushed the doors slightly, before swiftly turning and with a few large steps halved the distance back to the stairwell. Linda shrugged and almost had to lean completely against the wings before she managed to push them enough apart to squeeze herself past them.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Hello, Pearce”, she had just managed, through no small effort, to push the doors back to initial position, when she heard the familiar voice of the Ruling over sea behind her. “I assume you have nothing against us speaking on first name basis? This is after all a confidential mission.
“Uh, no, no problem”, Linda said, a bit perplexed, as she turned to face the ruler of AWA, who had currently dispensed with her rich robes and royal jewelry in favor of an outfit, much like her own. “It’s just that… um… my first name is not Pearce. It’s Linda.”
“Linda?”, the woman echoed, as if wondering whether to accept this new information or not. “A very peculiar name indeed. But I suppose this is not so where you come from?”
Linda’s brows furrowed slightly, as she was considering her reply. The Ruling’s tone wasn’t accusatory or condescending, it sounded sincere, but that didn’t exactly mean she didn’t think her mad.
“You seem to accept what I said far better than Wint.”
“We are a people who hold power over the elements” , the ruler shrugged, “Is it truly so bizarre that you come from a different planet that we should wave it off as impossible?”
“Well, yes, but still…”, Linda stuttered slightly.
“Still, you could be lying?”, the Ruling finished her sentence, raising one dark eyebrow. “Of course, but the common con artist is rarely so creative. Only a sincere woman could say something like that without thinking that it might get her sent to the psych-correctional.”
Linda simply nodded, wondering if she should feel grateful for the trust, or insulted by the insinuation about the state of her mental health. The Ruling over sea stocked some more ammo clips and a large and mean looking knife into the wide belt on her tunic before she made a few steps toward Linda.
“Well then, I should let you get ready, Linda”, she said, with a small smile. “Look around and take whatever grabs your attention - AWA’s weapons are some of the best on the whole planet.”
Clearly her face had displayed part of the confusion she felt, as she threw a glance around the huge hall, full of rows upon rows of shelves with various shapes and sizes of weapons, because the Ruling stopped short a few steps in front of her and studied her with her inquisitive stare.
“But of course”, she added softly, “surely you wouldn’t refuse some guidance from my part? Perhaps you believe us politicians to be stale bureaucrats, just sitting on our thrones, doing nothing all day, but I have participated in quite a few battles against pirates and terrorists in my day and I have a pretty good idea what stops them in their tracks with little effort.”
Linda barely managed to suppress her sigh of relief that she might not have to wander around aimlessly for hours on end through the contents of the armory, cutting herself on the blades on display in the process.
“Thank You”, she muttered, following the ruler through the rows of shelves in the room.
The Ruling over sea reached up and pulled down an impressive looking crate from one of the top shelves. It held neatly stacked firearms and boxes of ammo. Linda jumped about a meter back when the woman pulled out one, loaded it with a loud click and without losing momentum, aimed a little over the girl’s shoulder and… fired. The ruler gave her shivering form a good once over, before laughing out loud in her deep voice:
“Easy, little one, I wasn’t going to shoot you”, Linda barely managed to regain enough composure to grab the weapon the Ruling threw her. “AWA-537, semi-automatic thunderer. One of our based long-range thundershots.” She grabbed her hands and showed her how to hold it correctly. “Here is were you load the ammo, here is how you disable the safety - aim”, still holding her by her elbows, she turned her toward the wall, where Linda could still see the hole from the previous shot on what she now recognised as a practice target, “and fire. Simple and efficient.”
Linda swallowed rather loudly and forced her hands to stop shaking. To achieve this, she had to squeeze the “thunderer” so hard that her knuckles whitened.
“Thank You very much, uuum, Your Majesty…”, she muttered.
“Wotar”, the ruler corrected her softly. “Aquina Wotar. Confidential mission, remember?” - she added and winked at her confused face.
“A-ha…”
“You don’t have a lot of experience with weapons, I suppose?”, the ruler, or rather, Wotar asked, without a hint of reprimand in her tone. “You don’t have wars on your planet?”
“U-um, we do”, Linda stammered in response. “It’s just that women don’t participate all that much.”
“Oh, and what do you use - robots?”, Wotar continued her inquiry, visibly intrigued. “We also had a similar initiative some years back, but in general it’s hard to convince the brass to accept it. They insist always that there are some decisions on the battlefield that only a woman can make.”
“Well, not exactly…”, Linda shooked her head. “Well, of course we do have fully automated war machines, but for the most part on Earth, there are more men than women in the army.”
She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Wotar’s expression suddenly darkened and her eyes flashed an angry spark. When she spoke again, it was as if her voice was lowering the temperature in the room:
“Your males depend on you for protection and instead you send them out into the horrors and violence of war? What sort of cowards inhabit your insane planet?”
Linda decided to remain silent and keep her gaze firmly planted on the tips of her shoes. She was aware that no matter what she said at this point might just bring about more of the water ruler’s rage, and in a room full of weapons, this was far from a good idea. How could she explain that things were simply different on her home planet? Society here had developed since ancient times in a direction which was very different from Earth. Of course people here would not simply accept the idea of a civilization in which their weak sex was not only not weak, but had dominated almost all spheres of social life for all of remembered history.
She tensed up when she heard the heavy metal doors slam shut after the Ruling over sea. She didn’t know what bothered her more - the fact that the ruler was so angry now, or that, if Linda had correctly drawn a parallel between alaian women and Earth men, very soon Wotar would join Wint in mocking her about her small stature and her cowardice. Let’s just say that the phrase “tomboy” had a very different connotation here, compared to Earth. If she hoped to survive on this planet, she needed to adapt. And fast.
“Are yer knees tremblin’ yet, little one?”, she made a face, grateful that she was still with her back to the entrance, when she heard Wint’s thick dialect. “Yer not tryin’ to start cryin’ on me again, are ye?”
“Why don’t ya run back to yer daddy?”, Linda was fully aware that she was taking a serious risk, talking back to a woman who wouldn’t consider snapping her back in two with her bare hands any sort of physical challenge. But at this stage, she had no other option but to try and run with the boys… or rather, the girls in this case. “I might not look much like it, but you’ll find me a handful to deal with, if ye piss me off, I’ll have ye know.”
“Well whaddya know - our little one has boobs, if ye believe it!”, Wint laughed and Linda released the breath she had been holding after effectively telling the wind storm off… to her dad… “Give yer big sis a moment to grab this-that for the road.”
As she was passing her by, she slapped her shoulder, as had become her habit and Linda felt a great deal of pride from the fact that she didn’t stumble forward this time. Though perhaps this was more thanks to her armoured bodice than anything else. Wint navigated the maze of shelves with the same confidence she had seen the ruler do a while ago. However, unlike Wotar, the wind storm seemed to favour size over effectiveness, as she was picking mostly large caliber weapons and long, heavy blades. Linda was following her around like a small puppy and was filling out her own collection, which ended up like a sort of hybrid between the choices of the two local women.
“Wint, you gotta tell me a bit more about them paintings on the walls outside”, she finally gathered the courage to start a conversation with the wind storm after they were both ready stocking up their arsenals. She was paying extra attention to make her voice sound as deep and as gruff as she could manage. “Why are there some pregnant bitches in the midst of battle?”
“Easy there, little one”, the woman cut her off, but noticeably softer than before, Linda noted to herself. “This be an old tradition, I’ll have ye know - they be special type of Wardens, we call ‘em Wardens of life. They bring luck in battle, or at least this be what women be sayin’ since ancient times and whichever side has more Wardens of life, usually wins, if ye get me. ‘Cuz what yer practically sayin’ to the opponent is that life is on our side, see?”
“Well, sure, but isn’t it like… dangerous for the kids?”, Linda insisted with her newfound rude voice, although she realized she was pushing her luck quite a bit and was running the risk of Wint once again labeling her a whimpering coward.
“Meh, whether it be dangerous now or later, lest we don’t win is more or less the same, I’ll tell ya - the kids are screwed either way”, the dark-hairded woman shook her head. “But it is right that we don’t do it the same way nowadays. Now we place them on these gliders, cuz see if the opponent kills a Warden of life, that kind of screws with the morale, ye know.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Linda muttered under her breath, so Wint couldn’t hear.
“Well, little one, let’s go”, the wind storm winked at her and made a few large strides toward the heavy metal doors of the armoury.
“U-uh, right now? I mean…”, she cleared her throat and managed with some effort to restore the depth of her voice. “Where exactly are we going?”
Almost at the door now, Wint turned back and the smile on her lips made her eyes almost glow in the dim light of the room. Linda swallowed hard and thanked whatever god was listening, that this woman was on her side:
“To the only place worth goin’ to, ‘f course - where there be trouble.”