El No, We Won't Go
Copyright© 2010 by Ol'Mac
Saturday 7:15 A. M. Police District 1 Locker Room, Chicago, IL
As the locker room door opened, Rick looked up and saw Stan come rolling through, "Morning Pard, how'd your night go?" Rick asked.
"Oh man, is this ever going to take some getting used to. Being called 'Lord' every time I turn around is just too much," replied Stan.
"Tell me about it. Hey, you ready for this? Last night I turned the 'ring' back into a 'sword' and I'm thinking, 'Wonder how to maintain this thing?' So I grab my diamond whetstone then start to take a stroke and on the backstroke the darn thing slices right through the stone. Almost lost my thumb to that sucker," Rick related.
"Are you kidding me, you OK?" Stan yelped.
"Yeah, I'm fine now. But it took awhile for the shakes to stop. Here's the even weirder 'other' shoe though. When I'd calmed down enough to think straight. I decided to have a gander at whatever this thing is. So, I go digging through my back closet and finally turn up that old microscope I had in High School. Get every thing set up to check out the edge. Lo-and-behold, there isn't one. Least, not under the ten thousand power optics I had available. I don't know if you could see it under an atomic microscope. I also don't think there's a substance in this universe that the thing couldn't cut right through," Rick finished up.
"So, what you're telling me is you won't be unsheathing that thing in the car, right?" Stan began chuckling.
"Hell No! I'm telling you it's going to stay in 'ring form' period. I don't care how ugly it is," Rick quipped back.
"Works for me buddy. Hey, let me get changed and we'll head for Angelo's place before we have to make our first rounds," said Stan.
"You got it, meet you in the car," Rick said, while heading out the door.
Saturday 7:25 A. M. W. Van Buren and Wabash
Stan and Rick pulled in to the curb by the News Stand, just as Mike was finishing up with the first morning rush. On catching sight of 'his guys' - as Mike had come to think of them - he grabbed the A. M. Edition of The Sun Times and strolled on over. "Hey guys, how'd the first day 'on the job' go?" Mike asked.
Rick looked up and grinning said, "Would you like an alphabetized list, or should we just take turns with our barrages."
Mike grinned back and said, "That bad huh, gee, why am I surprised? Glancing over at his Pop, he said, "Hey Dad, we're going to step into Angelo's. You want anything?"
"Yeah son, a cup and a Bolo would go down nice about now," his Father replied.
"You got it Pop, back in a bit." Turning toward the Bakery, Mike said, "Come on guys, the least we can do is talk over the 'good stuff'."
As they popped through the delivery door, Mike sung out, "Hey Angelo. Got any Ambrosia and hot buns for a couple of wayward Paladins and a Junkie?"
Sticking his head around the mixer, Angelo said, "Hey guys. Sure do, Mike. Margarethe just made a fresh batch and that tray on the top rack just came out about ten minutes ago. Help yourselves."
Sliding over toward the coffee station all of them grabbed a couple of Bolos and mug of Margarethe's love, then settled in at the break table. After the first sips, Mike said, "OK, who's first?"
Rick glanced at Stan and getting 'the nod', cleared his throat, "Mike, what the heck is that thing Elnore gave me? It's sure as creation, is anything but a sword."
A sheepish look stole over Mike's face, as he responded, "Well, it's Elven magic and that's sometimes difficult to explain, but I'll try. What he gave you was simply a piece of his 'will'. Now, hold on to your socks for the rest of this. When any of the Elven Clan want to make something, they reach into the collective power of the entire clan and then shape that power, with their 'will'. So, somewhere along the way, Elnore decided he wanted a 'sword'. Whatever he thought about at that time, is what's 'programmed' into that sword: Density, planar force, morph ability and literally every aspect that it displays. From your description, I'd say he was looking for a maintenance free, unstoppable cutting tool, with a morph phase and detection abilities thrown in for good measure. Did that help at all?"
Rick grinned at him and said, "Believe it of not, that actually did a bit. Wonder what else it can do? Oh well, on to the next. Can you put out an A. P. B. to have the little folk knock it off with the 'My Lord' crap? I'm a cop, for heavens sake, not minor nobility. Oh, while I'm thinking about it, tried calling you last night and got Voice Mail. Any way to get some kind of comm line setup?"
Mike smiled and said, "Well, I've been trying to get them to knock off the same crap for fifteen years. You see, fellas, by their way of thinking you 'are' Lords by birth and at least of minor nobility, possibly more. They 'know' that because, if you weren't, you couldn't even see them - just like the rest of the human population. Look at it this way. There are only four of us - that they know of - in the entire world. I'd say that rates as 'nobility'."
"So if you figure a way to get them to knock it off, let me know. But I think it's something you're going to have to learn to live with. Now, the comm line on the other hand, that we can do something about." Leaning over, he touched each man, on the right temple, and then leaned back with a grin.
"OK guys, you are now equipped with a two way comm system, for myself, each other and the anyone in the five worlds - though somehow I don't see you chatting it up with Demons much. Think of it as a second cell phone with unlimited minutes, unlimited features and no roaming charges ever. At least, there better not be, or we're all up the creek. Can you imagine inter-dimensional LD rates," Mike quipped.
Wonder erupted into laughter and as the guffaws finally slowed a bit, Mike glanced at Stan and said, "You've been mighty darn quiet over there compadre. What's rolling through your mind?"
"Well, Rick covered a lot of it, minus the sword of course. But I'm wondering what else will develop besides the extra senses? Second sight, or what?"
"Well, Talent tends to manifest in all of us differently, so I can't say what your specialty will be. Like Ella's only been at it for a little while and already showing signs of being a dynamite empath Talent, which is going to make her an outrageous detective."
"But there are some basics that come with the territory. Put your hand flat on the table, now look at it and visualize a, hmum, say a 'force field' around it and think 'shield'."
As Stan laid out his hand he closed his eyes and tried to 'see' a force field around it. To his surprise he saw a glow appear like a glove around his hand. Just as he opened his eyes to tell the others, Mike whipped a fork over and down toward his hand. He jerked his hand back and started to yell at Mike, while Rick started to grab Mike's arm. Before they could do either, Mike showed both Rick and him the bent tines on the fork.
"Holy, Mother..." Stan yelped, "What in the world? It never touched me."
"It's not just your hand that you can protect either, makes a bullet proof vest look downright skimpy by comparison. About like a nice lacy see through Teddy. With practice, it'll become pretty much automatic. Nor, are kitchen utensils all it'l protect you from. I could have been aiming an Abrams 1A-1 'Sabot' round at you and gotten the same results. Of course, it would have been bad news for the table. That little thing comes in real handy, when you're around folks you're not sure of. That also reminds me of something just a little bit important. When you guys turn your 'shields' on, they'll stay on, until you command them off."