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Subject: {ASSM} The Unfinished Human Only Novels: (Minds Over Matters), (The Peacemakers) TBD
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Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2012 09:10:06 -0400
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The Unfinished Human Only Novels: (Minds Over Matters), (The
Peacemakers)
---

    Note 1: In the USA, a section is one square mile.

    Note 2: I'm using reversed braces ( }Sample{ ) instead of quotes,
to indicate telepathic speech.
    --------

    Minds Over Matters
    --------

    Like, quite often, calls to like.

    But, as we too often forget...

    It has to call--before it can be heard.

    * * *

    The stone shell of the old general store sat about one hundred
feet back from the edge of the dirt road, and was surrounded by acres
and acres of weed covered farm land.

    The real estate agent waved his hand at the land. "It's been in
their family for generations. I understand the patriarch was an
immigrant back in the 1800s, and homesteaded about a square mile, then
managed to slowly add to it, until he owned four sections."

    I nodded. "He built well, for the store to be in such good shape."

    The man smiled. "Stone lasts. That's not the first store. His
second son was a stonemason, and he built it as a wedding gift to his
wife."

    He pointed to the left of the shell. "It's covered by the weeds,
now, but if you go that way a few hundred feet, you'll find the
remains of the main house, then, behind that, is where the barn used
to be."

    "Do they have any pictures? If so, I'd like to see them."

    "Probably. Doesn't matter. There are a few hanging on the walls of
the local bank. Look for the ones donated by the Kilpatricks."

    "I shall."

    I took a deep breath, then held out my hand. "Thanks for showing
it to me. I'll take it."

    His eyebrows went up. "Quick decision. Guess it's true, that you
city folks live fast."

    I shrugged. "It's that, or get run over by someone faster."

    "Well, Jason, life moves more slowly, out here."

    I stretched, then smiled slightly. "Grandad mentioned that more
than once, before he died."

    "Returning to your roots?"

    "Not mine. My great granddad's. Anything else you want to know?
Ask. I've been in the country before."

    He laughed. "Then you're used to the nosey neighbors?"

    "More or less."

    "Right. You have the look of a man who found something he's been
looking for, for a long time. Planning on settling here, yourself?"

    "Rest of my life."

    "Family?"

    "Not yet. Be a problem when I start restoring things, and building
cottages for my guests?"

    "Depends on the type of guests you'll be having. You're far enough
out, most folks won't care what you do here. What happens when they
come to town is another matter."

    "Understood. Be a mix. All ethnic groups, families, singles. Be
some kids. Well behaved ones, for the most part. We'll keep the
parties confined to the farm. Probably be some families who decide to
stay, which means their kids will go to school here."

    "Sounds like you have some grand plans."

    "I do. I've had this vision, for years, of building a small,
members only community. To clear the air and save time, yes, there
will be a naturist area, and it will be set up so it can't be seen
from outside. I'd like to reopen the store, eventually, and add a
restaurant and bar that's open to the public, instead of the lunch
counter that was in the store, originally."

    He studied me thoughtfully. "I didn't know the store had a lunch
counter, and I've lived here all my life. Sounds like you did some
research."

    I chuckled. "In a way. My full name is Jason Gilbert Kilpatrick
The Fourth. I'm a great-great grandson of the Gilbert Kilpartick who
homesteaded this land. I grew up listening to the early history of
this place, and when I discovered it was for sale, I decided it should
be kept in the family."

    "One of the branches who moved away early?"

    "Yep. Great grandad Jason loved to travel, and when he was old
enough, wandered until he got snagged by a woman who convinced him to
settle down and raise a family. For various reasons, ones I never
found out, our branch decided to stop keeping in contact with the rest
of the family. Anyway, I guess that exile is over."

    "They'll be glad to know the land will be staying in the family,
assuming you can prove who you are."

    I laughed and tapped my head lightly. "There's stuff up here, that
only a family member would know."

    "Always wondered a bit about that. The local Kilpatricks have
always been... A bit clannish. Not odd, clannish, just had the feeling
they tend to be careful about who they open up to. Doesn't surprise
me, that you'd be confident about being able to convince them you
belong."

    "And you'd like to be there when it happens, woudn't you?"

    He laughed. "Of course. Someone has to be the one who knows the
stuff that nobody else knows."

    "You said it yourself, that you didn't know about the lunch
counter. That's just one of the things that will help me establish who
I am. The rest... You'll have to keep guessing about, since you aren't
a member of the clan."

    "Hmmph."

    I chuckled, bent down and picked up a small pebble, then handed it
to him. "Hand this to your wife and see what she says about me being a
clan member."

    "How'd you know she's a Kilpatrick? They do that pebble thing to
each other, a lot..."

    He shut up, and narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "Man sees a lot he
don't talk about, if he's learned some wisdom."

    "He does?"

    He didn't answer me, but reached for his cell phone, and made a
call.

    "Honey?

    "Yes, love you, too. That's not... Oh. Yes, we're looking at the
Kilpatrick place. He's decided to buy it."

    He sighed. "You're right about it being a fast decision. He handed
me a pebble to give to you."

    "Ok. I'll tell him you're on your way."

    He hung up and studied me again. "She's coming out to welcome you
home."

    "She didn't have to do that. We were going back to your office."

    He sighed again. "As I was saying, a man sees things and... Oh,
Hell. I should have seen it right away, but you do a better job of
hiding it than the people I'm used to. Appreciate it, if you help a
couple of our kids learn how to be able to handle casual contact as
well as you do."

    It was my turn to study him, then I nodded slightly. "Sensitives?"

    "Yeah. Something makes sense, now. That compound of yours. Place
for folks like you to get some isolation, so they can relax, right?"

    "Going to be a problem?"

    "Nahh... Small town, lots of folks have at least one sensitive in
the family. You'll be ok. Going to be exclusive?"

    "Some parts will have to be. Sorry."

    "I'm not. Hope you can teach folks how to shut out the noise the
rest of us generate. Like to be able to send the kids to a good
school, someday."

    "Thanks. I'll see what I can do."

    "Welcome. I should be thanking you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll
head back and get that paperwork started."

    I held out my hand and smiled a bit wryly. "Contact control is
easy to learn. You don't have to worry about me reading your thoughts,
or anything silly like that. Can't, anyway. I'm only telepathic with
other telepaths. Emotions and empathy are something else, and to get
those, I have to focus quite a bit, if the other person isn't one of
us."

    He blushed. "Are all of you going to be that good at understanding
other people?"

    I shook my head. "No. We all have slightly different skills. In a
way, I specialized."

    "Specialized?"

    I grinned. "Did something that made my parents think I was crazy.
Worked my way through college as a bartender."

    He laughed. "I'd have to agree with 'crazy', because I've never
heard of any of the locals being able to spend that much time around
people they call 'the silent ones who shout'."

    We shook hands, then he left.

    I watched his car until it was out of sight, then I turned back to
study my new home--and start making plans.

    * * *

    I heard the steady crunching of tires on dirt and small rocks as a
car approached, so I was already facing the road and watching when a
woman pulled up and parked.

    She got out, brushed her bright red hair out of her eyes, then
lifted her head to make eye contact with me.

    }I'm Janet Kilpatrick Resnick. Welcome home, cousin.{

    }Hello, Janet. Like I told your husband, I'm Jason Gilbert
Kilpatrick, The Fourth.{

    She came to me and held out her hand. Her presence took on a
reality that was richer and fuller, when we made physical contact and
she let her emotions caress my mind. "You'll have to forgive Henry.
He's pretty protective of us all, sensitive, or not."

    I laughed. "I noticed. No problem. He's mentally quieter than most
normals. Your doing?"

    She shook her head. "Only a little. He and Heather, she's the
oldest of three, have this game they play where he tries to hide from
her. He's pretty good at it in town, and he's naturally guarded about
his thinking when he's around strangers."

    I took a deep breath, let it out, then held on to her hand while I
turned to look at the ruins. "Janet? I know it's a lot to ask, but all
I had were the recent pictures for the ads, and the memories that have
been passed from generation, to generation. Will you show me my
heritage?"

    "Of course."

    I looked at the shell, and she superimposed an image that was the
store, when it was being built. "Gilbert II decided the family needed
a permanent place to sell what the farm produced, so he started it
right after he got married, as a wedding gift for his wife, Susan."

    I studied the image, and let her see my own vision of what I
wanted to do. "I'd like to restore it. I think I can get it declared a
historical monument, with the family as the caretakers."

    She was silent and I felt her emotions shift rapidly before they
settled. "It will take money. Lots of it."

    "I know. I have access to it, or I wouldn't be here."

    "That was pretty definite. We've waited a long time, for one of
you to return. Many of us... We assumed the talent had died in your
branch, and the memories were forgotten."

    I sighed. "Out there, like finds like, eventually. From what
little I know, few of us have married a normal. All I know, is that
something happened, and contact was lost, then never made again, until
now. You can thank the net, and search engines. When this property
showed up as being owned by Kilpatricks, and for sale, I was mildly
interested in it, because of my dreams, and the dreams the rest of us
have about someday having a place we can be ourselves.

    "When I saw the pictures, and realized what I was seeing, we held
a meeting and decided to do whatever we had to, to buy it and make
sure it stayed in the Kilpatrick clan."

    She was silent a long time, then she gently hugged me. "Thank you.
I can tell there's a lot more, but perhaps it would be best if you
came to a clan meeting, so we all hear it at the same time. Let's go
explore. I haven't been here since I was a little girl, and I needed a
place that was away from all the 'noise'."

    I let her lead, and while we walked, she shared her memories with
me. Eventually we were looking at the charred remains of the barn, and
she sighed.

    "When I was little, and then a young teen, the barn was still
standing. I used to sit in the hayloft and dream about what it had
been like when it was a working farm and store."

    She knelt and picked up an old hay hook, then handed it to me.
"About fifteen years ago, a real bad lightning storm went through. The
barn and house were only two of the buildings destroyed by fire. We
lost a couple blocks in the older part of town, and several other
homesteads."

    I opened myself to the impressions the hook held, and winced when
I 'felt' the strike, then the savage heat of the fire that had roared
through the dry wood.

    "Bad."

    She took hook from me and gently put it back where she'd found it.
"Yes. Mother... Withdrew for years, after she got the news. It took a
long time for all of us to approach being normal again. It was like...
We'd lost our hearts. Without the farm, we didn't feel like we were
true Kilpatricks, any more."

    She shivered and I drew her into a hug. "It's ok. Let me show you
my dreams..."

    I opened myself, and took her on a guided tour of my vision. The
store, the restaurant... Even the new house and new barn. When I was
done we were sharing a vision of a completely restored working farm,
that was also a place where telepathic families and individuals could
come to get the distance they needed to recharge themselves before
they went back into the world.

    When I was done she pulled away to look at me. "You really think
you can do that?"

    "We're going to to give it our best shot. We still don't know how
we do what we do, but we've learned a lot about other things, like
knowing what plants are natural shields. Most of us have plants that
absorb the emotions, or reduce the spikes of the non sensitive to a
level that's bearable, even when we are unshielded. Most of those
plants will grow here, and those of us who decide to move here
permanently, will be able to bring our plants with us, because we
anticipated this, and kept them in planters and pots instead of
putting them in the ground."

    She hugged me tightly, then pulled away. "Most of it is your idea,
isn't it?"

    "Yes. Including making sure we have areas where sensitives and
normals can mingle. Eventually, I hope..."

    I turned and gazed at the remains of the store, but I wasn't
seeing them, I was seeing Janet's memories.

    She touched me lightly, to bring me back.

    "You hope? What is it?"

    I shivered. "The dreams I didn't show you. We *think* that after a
local population threshold is reached, the farm will generate an
atmosphere of peace that will be strong enough to be felt, anywhere in
the world, by anyone who is a sensitive, or a potential sensitive."

    She gasped, then turned me to face her. "There's something else,
isn't there? Something personal."

    "Empath?"

    "Of course. Strongest one in the area."

    I smiled. "That something else is simple. I'm hoping the call will
be strong enough, that eventually a woman able to love me, and live
with me, finds me."

    She frowned slightly, then took my hand and I felt her exploring
around the edges of my emotions, before she let go and sighed. "You're
a lot different than anyone here. I know a few women who are close
matches, but they aren't close enough they'd feel comfortable as your
wife. You're too driven for any of us to be comfortable around you for
very long."

    "I know I'm driven. I've met a lot of women over the years, some
were sensitives, but not able to get comfortable around me, because of
that obsessiveness that taints everything. A few were normals, but
eventually something made them uncomfortable, and while a few of them
stayed friends, we no longer think of the possibility we could ever be
more to each other."

    I sighed. "I don't know which is the stronger right now. I'm
running away from a life I can't tolerate any more, because of my
sensitivity. But, I'm also running to a vision of a future, a future
with a wife and children."

    She finally nodded, then pulled my head down so she could kiss me.
After she finished, she pulled back and smiled. "Well, no matter what
happens, while you wait, you have a home, Cousin. The Kilpatricks have
always taken care of family, no matter what our differences are."

    "Thanks, Janet."

    She giggled. "Now, now... None of that formality. Call me 'Jan',
or 'Cuz'. Only time I've been 'Janet', since I married Hank, is when
the kids are in trouble, or I'm speaking at a formal meeting."

    I laughed. "Well, then, Cuz, maybe we'd better head back to town
so you can make arrangements for that meeting you mentioned. I'm semi
retired, with no current entaglements or commitments, other than
getting... This place going."

    She shook her head. "Hiding isn't going to work. You hesitated.
What are you going to call 'this place'?"

    I straightened, and when I looked over the property, again, I saw
the future, and for the first time since I'd shared my vision with my
friends, spoke the name I'd always given it in my mind.

    "Minds Over Matters."

    She laughed and I smiled a little lopsidedly. "Yeah. I know. That
was part of my thinking, and I couldn't come up with something
reasonable that would let us call it 'Pop's'."

    She was still working on suppressing her laughter when she smiled
and reached for my face. I barely felt her touch, but her presence in
my mind was as solid as if she'd been there all my life.

    "Mom's will work fine, but don't be too upset if the older folks
keep calling it 'Kilpatrick's'."

    I chuckled. "A compromise? Going to need a good head bar maid for
the bar. What if we name it 'Kilpatrick's'?"

    She sobered. "Mind if we make that part of the discussion at the
clan meeting?"

    "Which? Head bar maid, or the name?"

    Her head came up and she shook it enough that her hair spread out
before it resettled over her shoulders. "An' wouldnt you be the glib
tongued charmer, Jason Gilbert! Henry might have something to say
about me spending so much time with a handsome lad like yourself."

    I chuckled. "An' yourself?"

    "I'll set me own hours, thank-you-very-much! Bein' single an' all,
you probably don't know how to cook, so if you don't mind, I'll run
your kitchen. You'll be needing a saucy one who can keep the lads
under control, and I have a family to raise, still."

    I held out my hand. "Done! Might you be knowin' a 'saucy one'?"

    She took my hand and curtsied. "I might."

    She let go and sobered. "Gayle will be good for you, while you
wait."

    "Thanks, Cuz. I'll try not to abuse your hospitality."

    She smiled. "Probably the opposite. Gayle's an odd mix of country
and city. Try not to let her talk you into some of her schemes."

    "Knows how to dream?"

    "Yes."

    "Good! I've been hoping I'd find a woman like that, to help get
the atmosphere right, from the beginning."

    She stepped back a little, and studied me again. "No women to
help, where you're from?"

    "Lots of them, but they're mostly married, and settled into their
families."

    She sighed. "I understand. Well, of all of the available women,
Gayle's attitude will the best fit for yours, I think."

    "You the local matchmaker?"

    "One of them."

    "Thank you."

    "You're welcome. You staying at the hotel?"

    "Yes. Paid for the week, with an option to stay longer."

    "Good. I'll get the room number from Henry, and someone will call
you when we're ready to listen to your dreams."

    She turned away without any ceremony, and before she got in her
car, I felt her laughter. }Gayle's another redhead. Don't bother
ordering dinner. She likes to have people eat her cooking.{

    }I'll be looking forward to meeing her.{

    She waved before she turned around and headed for town.

    I waved back, looked at how low the Sun was, then sighed and spoke
my sudden frustration out loud. "New place, and I don't need to get
lost in the dark."

    I got in, took a last look, then spent the trip back to the hotel
wondering just what sort of woman Janet was matching me with. Lively,
I assumed. The rest I was sure to find out fairly quickly.

    Sensitives have a few advantages, to help them cope, and it would
be a relief to be myself, and not worry about losing the easy
friendship that seemed to be part of who were were, no matter how we
met.

    * * *

    When I got back I called Henry to let him know things had gone
well, then asked him a few questions about the local and state
building codes.

    When I mentioned I wanted to check into getting the store declared
a state historical monument, he got enthused and decided to take the
time to see how many other old buildings he could add to the list,
before the new construction boom overwhelmed them.

    Normally, I would have taken a shower and gone looking for dinner,
but there was an etiquette involved when sensitives got together, and
part of it was sharing a bath, if there was the possibility they would
be sharing a bed later.

    Instead, I killed time by bringing up Google Earth on my laptop
and started doing captures so I could start working on the layout for
the compund.

    I was studying the shell of the store when someone knocked on my
door.

    "Room Service!"

    I laughed and opened the door, to freeze when we made eye contact.

    She started to blush, forced it down, then sighed deeply before
she gathered herself and spoke as calmly as she could. "I think Jan
was right."

    "Right? Oh. Ahhh... You must be Gayle?"

    "Yes. You have to be Jason."

    "I am. Let me have that, and come on in."

    I gently took the wicker picnic basket from her hands and set it
on the table.

    When I turned around she wrapped her arms around me and tilted her
head back. }Where have you been, all my life?{

    }Looking for someone like you.{

    }You can stop looking.{

    We kissed, and while we held it, we relaxed our usual shields and
shared our pasts, until she spoke a little sadly. }Until I have to
leave, right?{

    }Until then, Love.{

    She pulled away and touched my face lightly, then explored it with
her fingertips. "Take me with you."

    I captured her hand. "Of course. Consider my apartment yours
whenever you need a place to stay. I'll leave the plants for you.
You'll need them. I'll set up an account you can draw on until you
establish yourself."

    "Thank you."

    She smiled and looked past me. "It's a good thing I made it a
picnic style dinner. We can eat while the food is cold. Sit, and I'll
set it up on the bed so we can pretend."

    "Old fashioned?"

    "Very."

    I settled and watched her while she prepared everything, after she
put a patchwork cloth over the bed.

    Once she was done, she got a little girl look to her posture, and
she quickly removed her clothes before she settled at one edge of the
cloth.

    "Well?"

    I chuckled. "I'm going to have a hard time enjoying the food, with
you to look at."

    She shook her head, which made her hair fly like a mane would,
then she laughed. "Good!"

    I stripped and settled opposite her, then we filled our plates and
visited while we ate.

    After we ate our fill, I helped her pick up the leftovers and put
them in the small refrigerator.

    When things were put away and the bed was clear, there was an
awkward silence before I reached and held her hands while I watched
her face. "Woman's choice."

    She hesitated while she thought about her choices, then she
grinned and leaned forward to deliberately sniff my chest.

    When she straightened, she was smiling. "I like the way you smell.
Bed. Snuggle. We can share the shower, later."

    We settled with our backs against the headboard and with our
bodies touching. Eventually we stopped lightly exploring each other
and she smiled. "Jan shared, of course."

    I smiled back. "Doesn't surprise me. All she did was tell me she
thought you would be the best for me, of the women she was picking
from."

    "She didn't share anything about me?"

    "No. She did say you were another red head, and implied you might
be good as the head bar maid while I'm getting things started."

    "We get things started. She's right. I've been working as a
waitress, for years."

    "Is that going to cause problems, later?"

    "Probably not. Jobs aren't scarce if you're willing to work, but
there are some women who wouldn't hesitate to replace me when I quit
and move on."

    "How soon can you help?"

    "Tomorrow. Something in me has always wanted to travel. I'll
gather the few things I consider essential, and go see the rest of the
world, with you, for awhile. Been waiting until it felt right to do
it, that's all."

    I leaned over and kissed her nearest breast, which caused her to
giggle. When I looked up, her eyes had something in them that I'd
never seen in a woman, before. "Well, once our group figures out how
to live here, I won't be needed until the buildings are finished. If
you want, we can travel until they tell us it's time to come back."

    "I want, but I don't want charity, either."

    "Know how to use a computer? Any secretarial skills?"

    "Yes, and yes. One reason I'm not working as a secretary, the main
one, is because of the noise. I can't put up with it for a full shift,
and..." She shuddered. "Most of the men expect the use of my body as
one of the job requirements."

    "I can show you how to shield."

    "Thank you. Jan mentioned you'd be doing that for anyone who
asks."

    "Of course. Henry already asked me to help their children."

    She laughed. "Expect to be quietly mobbed. People won't come at
you all at once, but they will find ways to corner you."

    I chuckled. "Expected it."

    I turned sideways and slid my hand over her. "I'm willing to hire
you as my personal secretary. $4,000 a month, plus an expense account.
I won't expect your body as part of the deal. Relaxing like this, if
it's all you ever want to give me, will be fine."

    She captured my hand and grinned. "I'll take the job, after I make
sure someone will replace me. The rest? I'm not ready for marriage,
but I'm willing to live as if we were, until we agree it isn't
working. Fair enough?"

    "Fair enough. One more serious question, and I'll abide by your
decision. What about the chance of children? You know I want them
someday, but not until I'm definitely in a settled relationship."

    "No children, yet. I need to wander. Someday, I might setlle, but
I can't promise I will. If it happens, I promise to revisit this
decision, with you. Right now, I'm using birth control, because..."

    She giggled again. "What can I say? I'm almost pure Irish, a red
head, and I have very, very, round heels!"

    I chuckled again and touched my hair. "In case you haven't
noticed, I have red hair, too. I also have lots of testosterone
driving me. I'll try to keep up with you, if you want me to try."

    She laughed deeply, and moved my hand to her pubic area. "Best way
to slow me down is to find a way to make me have a couple orgasms
before you have your own."

    "A couple?"

    "At least!"

    I repositioned so I could easily bend my head and lick her, then I
looked at her face and grinned. "Should I read your body, or... Feel
your emotions?"

    Her eyes widened slightly, then she giggled again. "I have a
better way. All of it. Merge."

    "Merge? Are you sure?"

    "I am. I meant it when I said 'as if we are married'."

    I slid my hands over her stomach, then gently kneaded her breasts.
"So you did."

    She wrapped her hands around mine, we smiled at each other, and
then... We surprised ourselves when the merge happened as easily as if
we'd been doing it with each other for years.

    It was dawn when we finally decided to fall asleep, with Gayle
spooned against my back.

    * * *

    It seemed as if I'd just fallen asleep, when the phone rang.

    I opened my eyes, located it, and grabbed the handset while hoping
it was something I could put off until afternoon.

    "Hello?"

    "It's Jan. Is Gayle there?"

    "Umm... Yeah."

    "Good. Just tell her that she doesn't need to worry about going to
work. Angie's willing to fill in for her."

    "Umm... Hang on. I'd better let you talk to her."

    I rolled to my back and held the phone out. "Jan. She says Angie's
willing fill in for you at work. Do you want to talk to her about
that?"

    "Angie? Jan's meddling again."

    She took the phone and when she spoke, I could hear the fatigue in
her voice, and feel it as her mind slowly processed what she heard.
"Ok, Jan. What time is it?"

    }Seven AM.{

    "This could have waited. We got to sleep at dawn, and I don't have
to be at work until this evening."

    }I was hoping you were still awake. Sorry.{

    "Not sorry enough. What are you gloating about? I can hear it
oozing from your voice."

    }I talked to Angie last night. She wants to go full time, and with
Richard working evenings, she's interested in working your shift, if
you want to swap.{

    "Manipulator. She can have it, if she's willing to find someone to
replace her on the shift she was working."

    }Oh?{

    "I agreed to work as Jason's secretary, as soon as I could find
someone to replace me. Once we get things started, we're going to be
traveling until the doors are ready to open."

    }We?{

    "Until we agree it isn't working any more."

    }Pretty serious about each other?{

    "For now."

    }You've done worse. Good luck, to both of you, and I'll tell Hank
one of you will check in when you're ready to face the world again.
I'll give Angie the news, and we'll find someone to take over her
position, so you don't need to worry about things, ok?{

    "Thanks, Jan. Bye."

    She handed me the phone. "Hang this up, then you can go back to
sleep with your new secretary. She's exhausted."

    I put it back, rolled to face her, then put an arm over her before
I kissed her tenderly. "Am I reading the situation right when I assume
that was the only call we'll get until we call out and let the world
know we're willing to talk to people again?"

    "Yes."

    "Good!"

    We rearranged the parts until we were both comfortable, then we
went back to sleep.

    * * *

    The next time I woke up I was on my back, and Gayle was slowly
humping my dick.

    "Hi. I've had this happen before. How many times did I orgasm in
my sleep?"

    "Good afternoon, Honey. I've been careful. You haven't orgasmed
yet, but I have."

    "Good afternoon, yourself. Nice way to wake up. You might as well
finish me off, or stop long enough I can get limp enough to go take a
piss. Lots of pressure."

    She laughed, and bent forward until she was lying on top of me.
"You weren't joking about being testosterone driven, were you? I woke
up when you started fucking me in your sleep."

    I groaned. "What name did I call you?"

    "Gayle."

    "Really? Last few times I've done that, it was Susan."

    "Susan?"

    "We lasted about a year, a few years ago, until she met a friend
of mine that she fit better."

    "Must be frustrating when that happens."

    "Mildly. Had a lifetime to get used to it."

    "Bullshit. It hurts worse each time it happens, right?"

    I sighed. "Of course. Going to hurt like Hell when we split, but
I'd rather live through the pain, than try to force something that
isn't there. Same for you, right?"

    She shivered. "Sometimes I wish I was normal, and didn't have
whatever it is, that's keeping me from setlling. All we can do is
treasure what we get, then move on because we know we can do it again,
with someone else."

    I hugged her. "True. Now, you'd better get off so I can go."

    She giggled. "Well, at least you went limp, so you *can*!"

    I started laughing, she got off the bed and helped me stand, then
she held on until we were in the bathroom, where she let go. "I'll go
get my essentials out of my car, then, if you're up to it, we can
either eat or take that shower."

    I smiled at her assertiveness. "Thanks for managing my life. I'm
not very good at it, because I get lost in my dreams. Food first. Then
the shower, because I think I might want to collapse after it's over.
Last night was... Intense and special. Thank you."

    "I should be thanking you. Not many men are able to help me
sustain multiples like you did."

    "It was the merge. Made it easier to keep you at the peak."

    "And it let me keep you far enough below it, you didn't go over
the top right away. Ok to borrow your robe?"

    "Sure."

    "Thanks. Be right back."

    * * *

    "Turn around, and I'll get your front, now."

    I chuckled. "Finally get enough of my butt?"

    "Never! Does the little man ever wilt?"

    "You know he does."

    "You were limp too, as I recall."

    "True. Hey, thanks. I wasn't sure if people here had the same
first time etiquette, about showering together."

    "Jan didn't mention it?"

    "Nope. Didn't think to ask, either. Had the impression she decided
to leave that sort of stuff up to us."

    }You have a problem with using the inner voice?{

    }Of course not. Habit, to keep our regular voices in shape, and
keep us from using it when we shouldn't.{

    }Normals?{

    }Yep. They get nervous.{

    }Better this way, Jason. I like to feel *all* of a man when we're
together.{

    }Guess your mother never told you it was impolite to talk with
your mouth full?{

    }Nope! What about yours?{

    }Once she knew, she insisted I share with a partner, if she was a
telepath, too.{

    }Smart woman.{

    }Pretty soon.{

    }Won't lose a drop. Another advantage... Oohhh!... I thought I got
all of it before we got up! Where was all that hiding?!{

    }I think you managed to suck my toes empty! Thanks, Love.{

    "Help me back up."

    "Sure, if I don't fall to my knees."

    "Do that later, after you bathe me."

    "Ok. Jan was right."

    "Oh?"

    "She said I'd need a saucy head bar maid, to keep everyone in
line. I can see the sauce on your thighs..."

    "She didn't share that part. Saucy, eh? Maybe you'd better try
some, just to be sure I'm the right person for the job."

    "Tongue bath?"

    "Whoa! Really?"

    "Really. Ever had a complete one?"

    "Never had one of any kind!"

    "Hmm... Are we going to need to worry about running out of hot
water?"

    "No."

    }Shall we find out how many orgasms there are in a tongue bath?{

    }Yes!{
    .
    .
    .
    }Jason?{

    }Problem?{

    }Did you keep count? I lost track after number six.{

    }Six? Was that when I was washing your neck?{

    }Umm... No. Number six was my left breast.{

    }Really? That's usually number four.{

    She giggled. }Only four? What do you do? Go out with inhibited
women all the time?{

    }We never thought so.{

    }One for each foot, then one for each thigh. I'm not sure if the
big one I had when you did my pubes and asshole was one huge one that
lasted forever, or two big ones, real close together. Maybe... Hey,
wait. You did my stomach before my breasts, right?{

    }Yes.{

    }Then I lost count before that. My breast must have been number
seven, or maybe even eight or nine.{

    }Let me repeat the bath, with soap this time, then we can go
settle on the bed and figure out if you want to try again.{

    }Hey! I just realized something. I'm still standing... Well,
leaning on the wall, but that counts as standing. After... Ohh...
Number four, or so, I should have been collapsed on the floor! You
been helping?{

    }Yes. Something we discovered we can do, after we've had a good
merge. All I did was sort of increase the intensity of your desire to
stand, when your mind was focused on the pleasure. You didn't resist
me, so I assumed you already knew it was possible, and were ok with me
doing it. Sorry if I did something I shouldn't have.{

    }Can you take control of my body, then?{

    }No. Well, I've never been able to with anyone else, and if
someone has figured out a way, they haven't told anyone how it's done.
It's impossible to do anything once you're aware of yourself again,
like this.{

    }So you couldn't make my body do stuff while I'm thinking real
hard, for example?{

    }No.{

    }Darn it. I was hoping you could keep me standing while I think
about this. Give me the soap bath, more or less chastely, please.
Maybe, by the time we're back in bed, I'll be able to decide if I want
more, or if I should do the smart thing and settle for some
afterglow.{

    I chortled, then I gently bathed her and rinsed her off. After we
dried each other, I wrapped an arm around her waist and steadied her
while we made our way back to the bed.

    She studied the bed, and I felt her smile before she spoke softly.
"Be ok if I settle against the headboard, then you lie with your head
in my lap?"

    "Fine with me."

    We got comfortable, then she stroked my face again. }Thanks.
Little girl's dream.{

    }Oh?{

    She shared an image of a couple settled under a tree. }The oak
died two generations ago, and was cut up for firewood.{

    I laughed. }Is that something you want to do someday?{

    }Of course!{

    }We should have at least six months, before we have to come back.
Want to see how many different countries we can do it in?{

    She laughed, then put her hand on my chest, over my heart. }I
want. With you.{
    ---

    End Abandoned Work: 'Minds of Matters' 
~~~

Minds Over Matters:  Daughter Knows Best
    ----

    The members only lounge was elegant in that restrained way that is
so hard to find in this age of glitz and glitter. There were leather
covered couches scattered around the room, used as dividers to break
up the flow of the oak dining tables and keep a person from feeling as
if they were less important than efficiency, of which there was a lot.
The waiters and waitresses knew their jobs and were quietly proud of
their ability to be both efficient and friendly.

    Still, the atmosphere wasn't stuffy, or laced with that subtle
arrogance common to most private lounges.

    The arrogance was missing because this was also a *family* lounge
and there was a definite tinge of easily brought to the surface humor
that lingered just on the edge of the usual quiet seriousness.

    There was also, as the members and their families knew and
accepted, the faint but unmistakable aura of consummated lust that had
surprised many an unwary new member as they walked through the doors
for the first time.

    Last night's coming of age party had reinforced that aura, just as
tonight's similar party would. The 'first sex/coming of age'
celebrations had, over the years, become a tradition. Many of the kids
taking part in the parties had been conceived on the same couch they
used to learn about the joys lovers and close friends can share.

    A few kids had been born in the lounge. Other kids used it as a
safe place to be themselves.

    I suppose, if I had to state it in as few words as possible, the
lounge had become a community 'den' where we gathered to be one huge
and very extended family.

    All in all, as I sat at my usual table and had breakfast, I was
complacently proud of my people and the effect they'd achieved over
the years.

    But then, to balance that pride, there was the amused thought that
the atmosphere was, after all, nothing more than one to be expected.

    Telepaths need a place they can gather to relax, without the need
to constantly shield themselves from the people around them.

    'Minds Over Matters' was that place.

    * * *

    It had been a long night and since I had nowhere else I needed to
be, I'd kicked off my shoes to relax before I eventually found the
energy to head upstairs to my shielded home and some much needed
sleep.

    Breakfast had been simple, but filled with the calories I needed,
and I was letting it settle while I kept my public shields up and
casually watched the room. I enjoy people a lot and even without my
natural skills, would have gone on to join one of the people related
professions.

    Of course, thinking about my enjoyment of people in general led me
to consider the one wistful fantasy I still had: 'Would I ever meet a
woman who would decide to spend the rest of her life with me?'

    At that point I sighed. So far the answer had always been a gentle
and sometimes regretful, 'No.'

    Quite willing to drift and still unwilling to get up and go get
some sleep, I leaned back and let myself remember some of the women
who had briefly, or for longer periods, shared my life over the years.

    There had been one very special woman and an even more intense and
special shared vacation many years ago...

    * * *

    Unusually, for both of us, we'd felt like we fit together from the
first time we'd met. She liked to work and travel, but of course by
then I was comfortably settled and content to take care of the
recreation complex I'd built over the years.

    I had my friends, and a few of those were women close enough that
we'd share as lovers, but nothing ever turned serious. This woman, on
the other hand, had something about her that reminded me that I still
didn't have a permanent relationship.

    She'd caught that desire and smiled at me, sending out an
emotional caress that let me know she wasn't offended.

    I'd blushed, then impulsively asked her if she'd be willing to
share my annual vacation with me. She'd checked her schedule, then
gravely agreed that it might be interesting.

    * * *

    Telepaths can't lie to each other about that so the answers were
always gently given and readily accepted. 'Just friends' was far more
common with us than it was with the normals.

    Maybe that was what made it so easy to generate and maintain the
atmosphere. There was none of the hiding from each other that led to
misunderstandings.

    I shook myself out of my contemplative mood. 'Enough of that. I
need some sleep, alone, if I'm going to function during that coming of
age party tonight.'

    My feet sought my shoes and I was shocked into something
approaching my usual alertness when my toes jammed into something
solid in them. Slightly bemused and, to be honest about it, *amused*,
I reached down to grab them and see what had been teleported into
them--this time.

    My fingers told me first but just to be certain, and to be able to
put my shoes on again, I removed the objects.

    'Conch shells. Somebody here went to a lot of trouble to get my
attention.'

    I recognized the shells, of course. They were from a couple of the
centerpieces on the coffee tables. One was the shell I'd picked up
while on vacation with the woman I'd been daydreaming about. The other
one I recognized, but didn't know its history other than it had been
added to one of the centerpieces by a member.

    Curious, I reached and touched the shell I'd contributed, to see
what impressions it contained. The impressions of that memorable
vacation were there, of course. There were fleeting impressions of
appreciation left by other people who had handled it since then. The
most recent impression imposed was one that felt like it had been left
by someone very young. There was a hint of wonder for its beauty, as
well as curiosity about the sexual overtones we'd left on it during
that vacation. Also, very faintly, underneath that was something else,
a feeling of maturity and gentle amusement that had the slightest
touch of wistfulness in it. That wistfulness, I noticed, had the
unmistakable sub thoughts that said 'female'.

    I smiled, then shifted my attention to the other shell.

    My finger touched it lightly and I opened myself to the
impressions...

    I jerked my hand away as I slammed mental barriers shut. 'No! It
can't be!'

    This time I cautiously cupped my hands around the shell, not
touching it so I could reduce the intensity of the impressions as I
'read' them. I barely lowered my shield and reached mentally. 'Yes. It
is!'

    I had the sense of a woman walking along the beach, the same one
I'd walked years ago. It was the same woman and she had a young girl
with her, her daughter. The wistfulness was stronger now, as was the
sense of regret for a decision poorly made.

    That was the deep, main impression. On top of that was the usual
impressions left as the shell had been handled since then. And... Most
recently...

    I jerked my hands away again. I was feeling the wistfulness of a
young girl who felt alone. She wanted her father and mother to be
together.

    The image in her mind was of me, sitting at my table, now.

    I looked up and scanned the room carefully, searching for a face I
remembered more from the shell's impressions than I did from my
memories.

    There! I held up the shells and raised my eyebrows, questioning
the little girl who sat next to the woman who was blushing. She
clapped her hands with delight and grinned at me, obviously pleased
with herself.

    I smiled back and turned my attention to her mother. 'Mine?' It
was a silent query.

    'Ours.' Her mental correction was firmly made. 'Talented, and
direct, too.'

    I chuckled as some of the girl's adventures were replayed for me.
There was a pause and I felt the woman gather herself. 'She wants her
father and I want the man I remember, back in my life. I made a
mistake back then. I'd like a chance to correct it.'

    Along with that simple request was the image of the couch nearest
to her, followed by a memory that made me blush.

    We met next to it, each reaching for the other hungrily as we fell
sideways.
    ---

    End Abandoned Work: 'Daughter Knows Best' 
======

    The Peacemakers
    Concept of Diplomacy
    ---

    "I think it will work." Raymond's voice is filled with enthusiasm
and a fervor I seldom hear from him. Usually, he's far more cautious
in his pronouncements.

    "Raymond, do you realize what you are asking?"

    "Yes, Jim. The whole field of 'transfering' is about breaking new
ground. I'm only surprised nobody else has thought of this."

    I sighed and stared out the window at the park. "And you came to
me because because I told you about Natasha and I. Right?"

    He had the grace to turn his head away. "Did I overstep again?"

    ""Nata?"" I sought inward and used my private name for the dog who
had become my mind partner.

    ""We are one. I do not object.""

    I let my attention focus on Ray. "Natasha doesn't mind."

    "But you do. Am I right?"

    I nodded slowly. "We know cloning works. We know transfer works."
I pause and watch my partner as she seemingly casually wanders the
grounds in her constant patrol.

    "What we don't *know* is if our link is repeatable." I raise a
hand to stop his automatic protest. "Most importantly, we don't know
if Nata will be able to deal with the knowledge that even though she
won't remember it - she will be in a new body because she died." In my
agitation I use my private name for her.

    "Her death won't be deliberate, Jim. Most likely, it will be from
old age. Worst case, she will remember everything up to her most
recent recording." He turns to look at the grounds.

    "She might die in the line of duty. But, that could happen at any
time - to any of us. You and I already know humans can survive that.
She's watched as others like her have died. Their knowledge and their
skills have been lost. Their hard won expertise at a very demanding
profession - lost forever. Now, there is a chance to avoid that."

    "Nata..." I jerk my head up as he casually speaks a name I never
spoke aloud until today. "Understands the situation as well - or
better - than you do. Did you think I wouldn't bother to ask her how
she feels? Ever since the 'accords of transfer' were signed, she has
had the right to make her own decisions." He falls silent and flinches
back as my anger washes over me. That doesn't stop him from
continuing. "You seem to forget something. In my own way, I love her
as much as you do. Do you think I would propose something that would
hurt her?"

    He looked at me and smiled slightly. "Aren't you forgetting
something? That isn't the body you were born with. If what you tell me
about the two of you having full access to the other's memories is
true, she knows that and has accepted it."

    I hear the wonder in his voice. "She's from a long line of dogs
who have been the best transfer subjects we've ever had. It's in her
blood - so to speak."

    "I spend a lot of time sharing with animals of all types. Like
you, I'm a translator. We're a couple of those rare people who can
comfortably stand aside in their mind as a member of another species
takes over and learns how to communicate with us humans."

    "Trust me Jim. She knows the risks. She's already been able to
transfer to one of her clones and keep her personality intact. You
know that. You've already defied death once. You - and others like you
- are functionally immortal. How much better would it be if you knew
your animal partner was able to go though life with you?"

    "There's one step you haven't taken and Nata and I have been
waiting for the right time to urge you to do it. Transfer to her clone
and let her clone transfer to you. Prove to yourself that the two of
you will always be together - if you so choose."

    There it was. The one thing I'd feared. I wanted to believe but my
fear of discovering what we shared was a non-repeatable fluke always
frightened me away from the final test.

    * * *

    "Sarah? Let's go somewhere peaceful. Natasha and I need to talk
something over with you."

    She looks up from her work and smiles. "Jim, you sound pleased
about something." She gestures at the stack of paperwork. "I could use
some good news. Sure."

    She reaches for the intercom. "Karen, if his imperial smugness
shows up to try and browbeat us again, he's all yours. You know the
drill as well as I do. Jim and I are taking the rest of the day off so
I can try and relax."

    "No problem." Karen's voice is filled with her amusement. What
'His Lordship, Imperator Steven The Second', hasn't figured out is
that Karen and Sarah are of equal rank in the diplomatic corps. Not
only that, they are both married to the same man, their bodyguard. Me.

    On this assignment, Sarah is acting as the senior diplomat and
Karen is acting as her secretary. Me? Well, Natasha and I are in
charge of the security. As far as the world knows, we are the usual
human/animal transfer team.

    I offer Sarah my arm as she rises. "Natasha and I found a small
clearing on the grounds. The crew will make sure the three of us
aren't disturbed as we talk."

    "Both of you?" She studies me thoughtfully. "Natasha?" Sarah knows
of the link.

    Natasha and I swap bodies so she can respond to Sarah's question.
"Both of us. It concerns us all."

    "All?"

    I watch through Nata's eyes as my head nods. She makes my lips
quirk into a smile that is uniquely hers. "The future of the
diplomatic corps."

    Natasha and I return to our own bodies. As I load Natasha's
backpack with some picnic supplies, I glance over and see Sarah is
studying us. Once I grab my own pack with its blanket and other
essentials, the three of us leave the office and head for the small
clearing we found.

    * * *

    I feel Sarah's surprise as we enter the clearing. Natasha and I
are wating for her.

    "Jim?" Her voice reflects her shock at this violation of normal
protocol. Normally, clones never meet.

    "There's a reason. Several of them really. One is that Nata will
need to be able to talk without the usual delay from swapping. We also
need to show you something."

    "I'm listening." Her tone tells me she is upset and withholding
judgement.

    I unload our packs and take the time to lay out our blanket. For
the next 30 minutes or so, there is silence as the five of us eat and
study each other.

    "Nata?" I let my tone ask her if she wants to start.

    She and my clone shift, and she opens the discussion we are here
for. "Sarah? How much more effective would diplomacy be if experienced
diplomats such as you and Karen were expendable?"

    "Expendable? I don't understand." Nata's opening is one we
carefully chose so it would defuse Sarah's anger.

    "How old is Jim?"

    "I don't know. It never mattered so I never asked." She turned to
me. "Jim?"

    "My mind is about 110 years old. This body is 50 years old." I nod
in my clone's direction. "My clone is 25 years old. For the last 5
years, he and I have been routinely doing transfers so we both share
the same knowledge. Natasha has been doing the same with her clone. As
well, the 'link' Natasha and I have is also shared between our clones.
I am also able to link with her clone and she is able to link with
mine."

    "It's complicated but with Raymond's help, we've learned that with
the use of special radio links, our clones can be kept 'updated' in
real time with what is essentially a continuous transfer technique."

    "What Ray suggested five years ago - and what we've quietly proven
feasible - is that there can be functional immortality for animals and
humans. The body may die but the mind, and more importantly, the
knowledge and skills, will live on."

    "Sarah, I recognise that you have skills and training that I
don't. I have over fifty years of experience as a bodyguard to
diplomats such as yourself." I sigh. "You're still in your first life.
I'm halfway through my second one. I'm no diplomat but I have to know
how diplomacy works in order to do my job effectively."

    "Many times, I've seen negotiations fail when I had to insist that
a diplomat leave an area because I feared for their safety or life.
I've always felt there must be a better way than breaking off just
when a person's skills are needed the most."

    "One of the problems has always been the mindset that while
bodyguards are expendable, diplomats are not. The breakthrough came
when one day I was talking to Ray and he suggested we turn that
concept around."

    "With transfer, there is no need to focus on keeping a diplomat
alive at all costs. In the last 5 years, we've developed a means to
make sure a diplomat's skills are not only not lost, they are
immediately available after one dies."

    "I want to take that one step further."

    "What about creating a corps of professional diplomats who are
able to go into a situation knowing that if they decide their death
will lead to a settlement, they can choose it freely? Further, what if
it is known that it is the bodyguards who are considered
non-expendable? What would happen if you let it be known that if a mob
or anyone else kills a bodyguard, the immediate result will be the
destruction of those who did so? No appeal."

    "The diplomat is there by choice and accepts they are putting
themselves in harm's way. The bodyguards are there because they have
to be. They become the 'innocent victims' if they are killed." I fall
silent as Sarah holds up a hand. She has heard enough.

    "I think the bodyguards should all be volunteers, too." She looks
at us. "It was proven long ago that destruction should be the solution
of last resort."

    "You are missing our point." Natasha is calm. "Look at it from my
point of view. With the realtime transfer, the people who killed any
bodyguards or their companions will be easily identifiable by their
victims. As will those who injure or kill a diplomat."

    "What Jim and I are proposing is not destruction but an
enforcement of personal responsibility." She smiles. "Without a link
to Jim, I would have no understanding of how you humans can accept
situations that call for not holding a person responsible for their
actions. I don't live that way. If someone does something to me, I see
only that they have done it. I hold them responsible."

    "It makes for a much simpler life in many ways. It also makes
those who understand animals... much politer when they realize there
is no hiding from the consequences of their actions.

    "What I, Jim, and Ray propose is that we translate that mindset
and create a new type of diplomatic corps. It would be one made of
diplomats and security teams who are able to go into a situation with
the knowledge that if their death will help reach the goal of peace,
they can choose to die." She falls silent and there is a subtle shift
as my clone returns to control his body.

    His voice is calm as he speaks. "While the five of us have been
discussing this idea, we've been calling this new type of diplomat..."

    "Peacemakers."

    It hangs there as we give Sarah time to digest something we've
been working on for most of the last five years. That one word is
something we feel is the key to developing a new type of diplomat with
a subtly different professional mindset.
    ---

    End abandoned work: 'Concept of Diplomacy' 
---

    The Peacemakers
    Bodyguard
    ---

    "Blessed are the Peacemakers for they are in their graves."

    I let the words of the chaplain wash over me. The mission was a
success, but, once again, at such a terrible price.

    I want to scream my anger. It doesn't matter that what we are
burying today are only shells that had to die. It doesn't matter that
the minds that lived in them are safely back onboard the ship.

    What makes some people willing to repeatedly die so others may
live?

    There's only one way to find out.

    * * *

    I hesitate at the door and read the simple words on it:

    'Peacemakers - Life from the ashes.'

    Well, I hope so. Because right now, my mouth and soul is filled
with them.

    I enter.

    "Hello Peter. The Chaplain is expecting you." I'm used to being
greeted by people I recently watched die. It's her calm words that
cause me to stare at Marla.

    "Expecting me?" I know it makes me sound stupid.

    "Of course." Maybe that's what bothers me. All of the Peacemakers
display the serenity I've longed for all my life. "Don't you think
that she and I, two of the women you love, wouldn't know you'd show up
eventually?"

    I can't help my wry smile. "I guess you would know me by now."

    Slightly reassured, I enter the Chaplain's office.

    "Peter. Glad to see you." She reaches across her desk to shake my
hand. "Sit down. Relax. I imagine you have some questions."

    I look around before speaking. "Questions. Yeah, I suppose I do
have some."

    Silence. A calm, waiting silence that only someone with true inner
serenity can radiate.

    "I'm here to join up." I hesitate and then ask the question that
Marla always answers with a gentle smile and 'Because I must'.

    "Why do you do it? What keeps you dying for other people's
stupidity?" Have I pushed too far? I feel her whole attention focused
on me.

    "Turn it around Peter. Why do *you* keep living for other people's
'stupidity'?" At first I feel pinned and helpless. Unable to remain
seated as I try to express something I've never really thought about,
I rise and begin an agitated pacing.

    "Hell if I know for sure. Most of the time I look at the problems
we're called in to fix and can't understand why the folks involved
couldn't see the obvious. This time..." I stop and search for what
triggered my anger at the services.

    "It was Marla down there again. I'm tired of watching her die just
so others will live. I want her to have a life. Is that so hard to
understand?"

    I stop and look at Leandra as I suddenly understand Marla's gentle
words. "Because I must. Is that what it is? *Somebody* has to step in
and break the cycle of hate?"

    She smiles slightly. "Isn't that what keeps *you* going? How come
you haven't quit the Bodyguards in all the years you've been with
them? You've met Marla only recently. She's relatively new to the
Peacemakers. You, on the other hand, have been bodyguarding
Peacemakers for 35 years. How much more hell have you seen than she
has? How many have you seen die? How many worlds have you watched
destroy themselves when a mission failed?"

    She whispers. "How many times have you held me and watched *me*
die during a mission?"

    Briskly. "So Peter, with that background, what makes you want to
step into Hell with us?"

    I allow myself to smile lopsidedly. "There is that, isn't there?
When you get down to it, the guards are spread pretty thin and we're
not getting enough recruits to properly do our jobs. We lose a lot of
them when they learn they have to be able to stand aside and let the
ones they love get murdered if he or she decides it's the only way to
gain peace."

    I resettle in one of the chairs. Almost without thought I
manipulate the controls available in one of the arms. I know what I'm
seeking. Finally I remember the correct codes and watch as the
recording shows those final moments.

    I use a montage view and put Marla's view next to mine.

    "Must you? Again?" She nods. "You have to stand aside. It's the
only way."

    I see myself frown as I nod. Was I already crying? I hadn't
realized it at the time. "I don't have to like it. I wish..." I watch
as I seem to shake myself back to awareness and a grudging acceptance
of what is likely to happen. I give her the traditional last words a
Bodyguard speaks to his lover at such times. "I love you, Marla."

    I never heard her reply. The mob overwhelmed us at that point. "I
love you too, Peter. That's why I can let myself die. I know you'll be
there when I wake up."

    I freeze it and study that serene face. No, determined. Calm. I
blank the screens.

    "They dismembered her and I had to watch as it happened.

    "So much pent up hatred. She... Was forced to live through most of
it. They made me watch as well. 'So you can tell your bosses what we
think of your interference'. "

    "It was later, when the mob came to it senses, that they agreed to
a formal peace." I laugh bitterly. "The shock at what they had done to
someone who only wanted to help woke them up. "

    I was shivering and dimly felt arms wrap around me. "She only
wanted to help." I whispered it through my tears of anger and
frustration.

    "I did. You did." It is Marla. "We helped."

    "Why didn't they try to kill me?" That detail always bothers me.
This is the first time I've remembered to ask it.

    "Because you are the other side of diplomacy." Marla settles in my
lap and kisses me gently. I return her kiss with my usual post-mission
hunger. I need to KNOW she is there. I need to know she is still my
Marla.

    I finally pull back and look at the two of them. "The other side?"

    "The other side." Marla frowns. "The warrior. The one who has
sworn to die - and in dying, destroy everyone as a reminder of what it
costs when war comes to a world."

    "We always take careful pains to let people know the cost of
harming a Bodyguard. You are a walking bomb who is always ready to go
off under the proper conditions. Destroy you or any other Bodyguard...
and they destroy themselves and their world."

    "Even the most radical are rarely that suicidal." Marla's eyes
meet mine. "Diplomats are expendable. Bodyguards are not."

    I nod slowly. "That's something I've never understood before. I
would have thought it was the other way around."

    Marla hugged me as Leandra continued the explanation. "It was that
way until imprinting was developed. Once that was perfected, diplomats
could go into a situation and not have to spend time worrying about
their individual survival. More solutions became available as a
result. Eventually, the diplomats got together and created The
Peacemakers and their Bodyguards. We became independent of all nations
and the need for international protection."

    "Diplomacy became a profession in which the death of the diplomat
can be a solution that leads to peace."

    "We are willing to die but we are not deathseekers. Most of the
time, the people involved in a dispute relate to that and respond by
seeking a settlement."

    Leandra pauses and looks at the two of us. "Did you ever wonder
about my decision to become a Chaplain? The reason I gave up my work
as a Peacemaker for that of administration?"

    I turn slightly so I can study a face I've known for 30 years. I
see a mixture of love, amusement and wry self mockery. It's a
combination I am used to. Once she sees my recognition of that, she
shifts her face slightly and I see something I've only seen when I
look in a mirror or at another Bodyguard. Cold and unrelenting
hardness.

    "It was because I love you. Because I swore that the world that
kills YOU - would die."

    I shiver at the cold calculation behind her words. "You've hidden
it well." I finally commented.

    She nodded and let herself smile slightly. "It's one of the things
a Peacemaker has to learn for themselves. When to retire from active
duty."

    I nod slowly. From conversations with other Bodyguards, I know
that the typical working life for many Peacemakers is only thirty to
fifty years. Leandra's words were the final clue I needed to trigger
my full understanding for that limited time. I had assumed the ability
to handle stress was a deciding factor. I was right, just not in the
way I had assumed.
    ---

    End abandoned work: 'Bodyguard' 
~~~

    Concept of Diplomacy Notes

    Jim:
    60 0
    75 15
    110 50


    Natasha:
    5 0
    10 5

    --------------

    The idea of 'transfering' is an extension of a concept used for
the 'Eternal Emporer' in the Sten series by Alan Cole and Chris Bunch.

    The concept of the 'Peacemakers' is my own and based on having the
'transfer process' available. There are also some cross species
transfer considerations I've developed.
    -----

    Been working on what will be the origin story for the Peacemakers
series (Concept of Diplomacy). I may do another even earlier origin
story that gives some of the details about the process of transfering
that is used. It would lead well to the human/animal teams I use as
bodyguards/security teams in this story. The whole thing is going in
an interesting direction at this point. Not what I originally
envisioned for the origins when doing the Peacemakers story.
    ===

    End notes 
~~~

End: Abandoned Novel - The Peacemakers
======

End: Abandoned Novels

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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