MISC: The Girl Who Saved the World, Part 10

George Phillies phillies at 4liberty.net
Thu Nov 26 13:38:34 PST 2015

The oven clock said my half past dark was in fact only an hour past 
sunset.  The night light was more than enough, especially when I knew 
exactly where everything was stashed.  Sunset? I must have slept the day 
around.  No, I had woken up once and again for a glass or two of water. 
I’d had the foresight to cook in advance.  Cold chicken fresh off the 
bone, soda biscuits with unsalted butter, stir-fry curried vegetables 
warmed in the microwave,  more chicken and soda biscuits, milk, sliced 
plum tomatoes, and finally rum raisin ice cream with chocolate fudge 
crumbles did just fine.  I did remember to check the bathroom scale.  I 
had lost weight.  A fair piece of weight, even allowing I’m five-foot 
three. Somehow, I continue to believe the Lesser Maze will never be a 
major competitor as a weight-loss machine.  Not with that casualty rate.

Very soon I was going to go back to sleep…the healing matrix said 
not-quite-dawn as my drift from slumber moment.  Was there anything I 
really had to do first? The very slightest bit of telepathy, no matter 
how unpleasant it was, confirmed ponies and barn-cats were fine.  The 
ponies would want currycombing tomorrow.  Dishes were rinsed and in the 
dishwasher.  Counters were bare.   I dragged myself up the stairs. Garb? 
It was in the closet, immaculately clean, not a stitch out of place. 
Clean?  After what had happened to it ? That must have been the 
Namestone, insisting that the Bearer always looks perfect.  In fact, 
when I met Valkyria, my garb had been immaculate, down to the flawless 
drape of my cape.  I’d remembered to flare the cape so the video 
audience could see my sigil.

Namestone?  Safe in its hidey-hole. Anything else? Rules engines, your 
opinions? The usual warning is that you can carry one rules engine 
‘Marksman on how to shoot’, or if you’re really good a second ‘Medico on 
how to  use your healing matrix,’ but if you try four rules engines you 
go bats.  Mum knew how to break that limit.   I’m a working 
demonstration.  I have like fifty of them floating around, actually not 
inside my head where they’d cause problems, all being called at once. 
They all had something they wanted to tell me, but mostly they 
cancelled. The ones on buying and running a house were pretty calm. The 
emergency priority flag on ‘Psychist – going bats for fun and profit’ 
was firmly warning me.  The Lesser Maze was too much for almost anyone, 
and I was building up pressure again about Mum.  Okay, I don’t know why 
she threw me out of the house, those six months ago, but she was right. 
  I can take care of myself.  I just wish I didn’t have to, not with no 
advance notice.  But still…and for a moment bitter tears overwhelmed me. 
  I washed my face, noticed I was getting cold from standing in bare 
feet, and went to bed.  I pulled up my quilt and drifted off, to sleep, 
perchance to dream.

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