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09 April 2019 @ 06:13 pm
_Guardsman_ part 37 not-in-order  
Since you asked . . .

Chapter Sixteen


Izzo raised his brows as he realized that there were only three people in Urfa’s conference room.

The President shook his hand. “You know, Exle, don’t you?”

Exle Withione Bangkok was the head of the unfortunately small Modernist party . . . This is a political meeting, not . . .

“Of course. Exle picks on me regularly, and forces me to attend all the party meeting in the Western Hemisphere.” Another handshake.

“Don’t you mean, host those meetings, Izzo? Something to do with you being the third highest ranking Modernist after these two layabouts?” Exle grinned and Urfa waved them all into chairs. No guards, not even Rael. Not even Qayg!

“Don’t look so worried, Izzo, this will be over quickly. We’re looking toward next year’s Presidential Election, and checking out all the possible candidates.” The President grinned.

Izzo looked at Urfa. “I will certainly support . . .”

Urfa shook his head. “You, Izzo.”

Izzo froze. Tried to think of something to say. Forced himself to breath. Swallowed. “I . . .”

Grins from the other three.

President Orde pulled a cash card out of his pocket and handed it to Urfa. Shook his head. “And here I was sure you’d have thought about it.”

“I . . .”

Urfa shook his head. “He’s been busy. Izzo. You’ve got a lot less time to set up the Directorate for a new Director than you’d planned. And a bigger job ahead of you than you’d planned.”

And some odd words seemed to be coming out of his mouth. “If I win. Which is definitely not . . . going to be easy . . . and maybe not possible.”

Oh shit! Did I just say yes?


He was still feeling stunned two hours later when he walked back into the Gothic Horror. El Zee was shooting worried glances at him in the rearview mirror, and stepped out to watch him walk, hopefully steadily, through the front door.

It was the middle of the day, the kids were at school and Xiat would be working . . . or rushing in through the back door because someone—El Zee, no doubt—had tattled. He hauled her into the elevator, pushed the button and pulled her into a hug.


“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I . . . um . . . had a bit of a shock today.”

She stood him off, hands on his shoulders and looked him over. “Izzo! What happened?”

“Um . . . Let’s get private.” He led the way down the hall to the Director’s suite, and flopped on the ridiculously large bed to stare at the ceiling. Tried to organize his thoughts into coherent order. Most important thing first.

“Xiat, you are the light of my life and . . . and . . .”

“Izzo?” She leaned over him frowning now. “What did you do?”

“Agree to run for president.”

Xiat started laughing. “Izzo! Do you mean to tell me you didn’t notice you were being groomed for the job? For years!

(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 12:30 am (UTC)
Izzo, the most successful unintentional blind runner in Game history.
(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 04:05 am (UTC)
Hopefully his party can find a way to spin Izzo's obliviousness as a positive thing.
(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 09:30 am (UTC)
I think it is the Priest gene at work. Right man, at the right place, at the right time. The less he tries to use it, the better it works and Lucky Dave seems to work the same way.
(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 01:18 am (UTC)
Yes. Definitely good. Exle should be nicknamed Exile, especially good since he is a Modernist.
Michawl DolbearMichawl Dolbear on April 10th, 2019 01:18 am (UTC)
(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 07:57 am (UTC)
Love this. I also really wanted to see the scene where Nicholas confronted Ra's about having kids out of marriage and Nighthawk's reaction. Can we get for all the candy bar scenes we'd like to see? Woof woof?
(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 10:29 am (UTC)
Dear Pam

'Can we get for all the candy bar scenes we'd like to see? ' was supposed to read 'Can we beg for all the candy bar scenes we'd like to see?'

Spellcheck spoiled my joke and made my comment sound much too demanding. Sorry.
(Anonymous) on April 10th, 2019 02:52 pm (UTC)
Just wondering how Izzo could be so surprised after the procog ladies predicted it
matapampamuphoff on April 10th, 2019 03:13 pm (UTC)

Izzo's been Director of External relations for six year or so. He still thinks of it as his new job, not one he's ready to leave.

That pre-cog was eighteen years ago. And Izzo's an expert with experience in how often it's a true pre-cog, as opposed to an ordinary dream. Or day dream, or wishful thinking.

". . .and you will be the next President of the Empire."

Izzo ran a hand through his short blonde hair. "Lady Heum, you know you’re not supposed to attempt personal fortune telling." His favorite sword was in a display rack over the bookcase. Pity it was a sport blade. Blunt rolled tip, the edges unsharpened. He could neither fall on it nor slash his wrists.

"Oh, but you’re so alone! I thought I’d help." She pouted her purple stained lips and hunched her pink clad shoulders. The thick layer of makeup failed altogether to hide the wrinkles of advancing age. "I’m quite certain that if you leave now and take that Paris job, you’ll at least find True Love. You’re just ripe for career advancement, but you’re getting on a bit for a first marriage. You should get out more. And there's a huge wave of potential over Paris, right now!"

Potential for mayhem, if half the dreams around here are prescient.

Lady Heum blinked and rubbed her forehead. "You have to go find that man, you have to save . . . someone. You . . . Sorry, was I mumbling?"

Izzo stomped hard on a sudden spurt of adrenaline. One! I hate it when a serious precog hits. Especially when it involves me. Or seems to. "You" could be anyone. Really.

"Lady Heum, you are one of our best Diviners, but even so, personal futures are very unreliable, second only to deliberate attempts to force the subject of a precog. Doing both just isn’t a good idea. So why don’t you have a little meditation before lunch. I’m sure you’ll see it’s all for the best. And while you're meditating, if you must think about an individual, perhaps you might consider the president?"

He escorted her graciously to the door and bowed her out.

Closed the door behind her and leaned back on it.

"I really need to get out of the Precog and Divination department." That wasn't a real precog. It was not aimed at me. Oh Bloody One! What someone am I supposed to save? My True Love?