Chương 567: Day Five Hundred And Sixty-Five

Dear Diary, Definitely glad I got Karen and Larry involved in coming up with some kind of Mana Blade based fighting style. I mean, yeah, I've managed to do a fuckton of damage with them, and I've definitely hit the point where I can use them almost instinctively in dozens of ways. Knuckle dusters, quills, swords, daggers, lances, big ones, small ones, you name it, I've used it to fuck somebody's day up. Shit, I've even gotten kinky with Saffron with them at least once.

Not to mention her scarifying my shoulder with one. I've also got my stolen Close Quarters Combat Skill and, according to Marshall duBois, a natural gift for wrecking people's shit. For doing unto others before they do unto me. I think I remember one of my ROTC DIs calling it 'being good with my hands'. But all that doesn't translate really well into what you might call an organized fighting style you can train somebody in.

Which, since Karen came up with an even more Mana intensive version of a Mana Blade, and then managed to trim it down to something a couple people in a Mana Network could power, it's just a matter of time before somebody comes up with an actual Human or Human Adjacent portable, single person powered Shape to create a Mana Blade. When that happens, I want our Heroes to be ready to use it without the typical lead time or horror stories I've read and heard about with new weapons.

Obviously putting a sword master and one of our two best Mana Blade researchers together to come up with something is one part of that. They've got all kinds of knowhow, and between the two of them ought to be able to adapt what we know into something useful. I mean, okay, Larry's young; his dad might actually have more Skill with his spear than Larry does with his sword, and I'd be stupid to think that Marshall duBois' Close Quarters Combat Skill is lower than Lenny's Spear Skill.

But Larry took on Garland in a one on one where Garland had most of the advantages and managed to win, so for my money he's a sword master. He also has a Mana Blade of his own that he's been using, so he has a feel for the weapon's unique characteristics. Likewise, Doc Roberts might actually have more Mana Shaping Skill than Karen. Not sure. But he's not a fighter by any stretch of the imagination. He might be the guy to develop the weapon, but not the one to develop the doctrine on using it.

Sure, Saffron probably could do that part of the job better than Karen, but she's swamped already. So, Larry and Karen are my own personal Mana Blade Jutsu Manhattan Project. But here's the thing. One of my old teachers back at Eastside told me about two competing theories of design.

'The Cathedral' and 'The Bazaar'. There's a whole book about it. Like, the 'Cathedral' is what Karen and Larry are doing. Top level experts explicitly told to come up with the best possible whatever it is you're trying to develop. The 'Bazaar' is kinda the opposite of that.

Instead of being a chosen group of experts given a specific goal and whatever resources they need, the Bazaar is just, anybody who wants to pitch in, everybody spitting out ideas, testing them, throwing away the bad, adjusting the good, coming up with new ideas, testing those, mutating, evolving, coming up with thousands of bad ideas for every half decent one, but still managing to move forward despite all that, because you've got so many people working toward the goal. Yeah, you get trolls fucking with shit.

Yeah, you get idiots who shouldn't be there in the first place derailing shit. Yeah, sometimes you asked for a better food processor and you wind up with the next generation of immersion blenders. Or maybe a bleeding edge IED. Thing is, the outlay's way lower, and you can wind up with some really stupidly brilliant shit, especially if instead of saying, 'come up with a better food processor', you say, 'figure out a faster, better way to turn all these raw materials into prepped food components'.

Because some brilliant asshole out there is gonna drop the slap chop on your ass while your Cathedral is still trying to figure out whether to go plugged in or battery operated. Funny thing, probably the reason I remember the discussion at all, was when I raised my hand and asked which was better? Chica blew your girl Tabitha's mind when she said, "both". I mean, that's my favorite answer to a lot of shit.

'Boys or girls', 'Saffron or Marie', 'head or tail'. Both. Both is good. Why don't we have both? Which is exactly why I'm handing Mana Blade trainers to the Cadets on Sunday in place of their Squadballs. Seriously, between Citron's prior tutoring, Vickerson's Soldier training, and Hildegarde's screaming aggression, I'd actually started seeing patterns in how they wielded their Squadballs.

I wasn't the only one; I'd seen Vickerson drilling a few moves Citron had worked out with her squad, and not only had Hildegarde picked up on some others, she was definitely the one in the class with the most effective 'do unto others' instincts. So starting Sunday my plan was to give each team a baton and see where they went with it. If it worked, I was thinking about giving each Cadet a baton. Worst case, they got a feel for basic melee combat without losing too many limbs.

Best case, they came up with shit that Karen and Larry would never think of, because it's stupid and it works. That's the plan, anyway. If it works, Larry, Karen, and my Cadets are geniuses. If it doesn't, I'm a dumbass, but everybody knew that already. So last night after naming our new batons 'Lancasters', outvoting Larry two to one, we all shoved ourselves to our feet and wandered in for dinner.

Before any of us even got to our seats, Bonnie and Saffron both evicted the three of us, ordering us to get showered before dinner. I didn't have the energy to walk up the Bore, so I grabbed Larry by the hand and stepped him up to the cubby room.

"Really, Commander?"

"You wanna walk up two flights of steps?" As he shucked off his clothes, trying gamely to fold them before placing them into a cubby, he muttered, "no. Thank you, Commander." I banished my own uniform, stumbling into the shower and letting the hot water wash over me. For the first time in a long time, my muscles ached more than my scars, which had the virtue of novelty at least. A moment later, Karen joined me in the shower next to me, and Larry followed us into the room a moment later.

He glanced over at us, then took a shower on the far side of the door, eyes very obviously held above our neck level. He muttered something, and I called out, "dude, we are not gonna be upset if you get an accidental eyeful. Shit, it'd be weird as fuck, but I'm too tired to care even if you stare. Not like you've got anything to be embarrassed about." He snorted, chuckled, then said, "thank you, Commander. But I was just musing on how useful that ability to step from one place to another is."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I facepalmed, then turned my face into the water to scrub it just a little. When I finished I turned back to him and said, "sorry, Larry. Didn't think of it. You want it, you got it." He froze, staring at me, head tilting. At that point I realized Karen had done the same thing. I sighed, rinsed off the last of the soap, and shut off the shower.

Shaking my head as the other two did the same, I said, "Larry, I'm sure by now you've heard that I'm the official Patron Demigoddess of the Alliance, right?" He nodded.

"Of course, Commander. I was... mildly surprised that you'd chosen the Temple of Love; I'd half expected you to claim the Temple of Storms." When I raised an eyebrow, he explained.

"The gods who enjoy fighting for fighting's sake tend to congregate there." I slumped. That genuinely kind of hurt.

"Larry? Do you really think that about me?" Give him credit, he stopped and thought about his response.

"You seemed to enjoy the sparring today."

"Yeah. Sparring. Honestly, I'm as surprised by this as you are, but it turns out that once I got myself in some kind of shape, I actually like sports. Playing them, not watching. Well, okay, now that I can play I appreciate good players more. But that's just it. Sparring? That's a sport. That's something I can enjoy guilt free." Karen chose that moment to quietly interject.

"You do seem to enjoy combat, though. If your cause is just, I see no reason you would feel guilt then."

"Who decides, though?" At the look in both their eyes, I barked out, "oh, hell no. Yeah, if I'm fighting in defense of my friends or family, or, y'know, my extended friends and family in the form of the Alliance, sure. Fighting monsters who won't fuck off back to the woods, again, sure. But I don't care how hard I get off on it, I am not gonna start looking for 'righteous causes' and shit." At that point, I did not expect the two of them to look at each other, then break out into quiet chuckles.

"Apologies, Commander. It's just... I see. I suppose if I'd given it more thought I'd have expected you to take the Temple of Justice." At my questioning look, he said, "fighting for a cause." Before I could argue, he very firmly said, "defense of those you love is a cause, Commander. Never think it's not."

"She does more than defend those she loves, though," said Karen.

"She nurtures them. She provides for them. She does everything she can to show her love." When I looked at her, she said, "I've... when I've been alone in prayer sometimes I've watched, to learn more of who you are."

"Disappointed?" She smiled at me.

"Never." After a pause.

"Although I'm a little confused as to why you'd grant Boons to someone not of your Clergy?" I snorted.

"Ask High Priestess Saffron Rae some time. I give that shit out like candy on Halloween. But more importantly. Larry? You know Karen is my Highest Priestess, right?" He nodded.

"Karen, Larry is my Champion."

"Wait, I'm... no, you did declare me that when I dueled Garland, didn't you?"

"I did." He got a bit of a contemplative look and muttered, "I never really thought I'd wind up Champion of... anything. Especially once I took you as Patron." Then he smiled.

"I suppose this is one of those cases of... Good deeds coming back to benefit someone?" He knelt smoothly, "I'll try to live up to my title, then, Commander." I stepped over, reached down, and lifted him to his feet, slapping jeans and tee shirts on both of us before pulling him into a hug.

"You know me, Larry. All that bowing and scraping and blowing smoke up my ass just isn't my thing." With a bit of focused will, I hit him with the Boon of Translocation.

"There you go. You need to be somewhere, you envision it, you step to it, and you're there." A moment later, he was gone. Karen looked at me.

"Does he know?" I sighed.

"No. No, he doesn't."

"Is he..."

"Yeah, he's my Champion. I get one. He's mine. Tabitha Diaz mine, and Mimic mine." She pondered that for a second, then said, "he really ought to know."

"Yeah, he ought to."

"Can I tell him?" I sighed again.

"Just don't be mean about it, okay?" She pouted. Imperator? Yes, Karen? As Priestess High of Mimic, may I wear the dress? The black one? I have no objection, so long as Tabitha doesn't.

"Hey, I think the wedding dress suits you, but I think I'm biased." When she looked the question at me, I admitted, "I like slutty better than classy. But if you need my okay, you've got it." Larry jogged into the room a moment later, shaking his head.

"Apologies, Commander. I stepped back to my own suite at Lancaster House, and it took me a bit to properly envision the Baths here." Blushing a little, he explained, "I wound up having to come back via the Courtyard."

"Yeah, we certainly spent enough time there today. The verb is 'Translocate', by the way. Be careful with it, but it's the same basic Skill used to Co-Locate. Just... step to somewhere else, but when you're just about to Translocate, you both finish the step and don't." He blinked.

"I, ah, think I'll leave that for another time, if you don't mind." At that point, Karen said, "now?" I shook my head.

"Fuck it, why not?" A moment later Karen stood there in the Yandere Shobitch Wedding Dress, glittering even in the dim light of the Bath.

"Champion. It's good to formally recognize you." He chuckled.

"I suppose it's good to know that, should my father be displeased with my efforts at Lancaster House, my family will have a place to turn to if he throws us out."

"If he can. If he dares." Karen's words had the hard intonation of a zealot reciting doctrine. Larry snorted.

"Oh, please. I'm a talented swordsman, and have some combat experience, but my father is a High Priest of Odin, the second best fighter of his generation in Phileo, perhaps in all of Atlantis." He nodded to Karen, admitting her point without her having to make it, "certainly I'm the Champion of a Demigoddess, but... how much weight does that Title carry? Enough to tip the scales in my favor? I doubt it." Karen just smiled at him.

Her smile got wider as he met her gaze and she whispered, "Goddess, could you assure our privacy?" I nodded, spreading my Blend around the room until the Bath was a fanciful daydream. Her gaze never letting his go, Karen whispered.

"There is a secret of the Temple you really ought to know, since you're our Goddess' sworn man and Champion. A secret which she's kept from you only because even knowing it could expose you and yours to danger, and she would never do so willingly without reason. But as you've just said, there is reason for you to know. So you know just how much your Title of Champion means." She shimmied, Glowing Midnight replacing her normal Garb. Larry, as I've said before, has some quickness in him.

Not just below the neck, either. His eyes darted down, then back to her face, then to me. Then he disappeared. He reappeared a moment later, Slayer extending. Before I could react, his knee hit the floor in front of me, Slayer extended and laying across his other forearm, sizzling gently.

"It was you. You saved my son. Didn't you?" I nodded, then realized he hadn't raised his eyes above my ankles.

"Yeah, Larry. I did. That was me."

"So I owe the life of my son to being the Champion of Mimic?"

"No, Larry. My Domains, the reason I took the Temple of Love, the reason Karen's building a whole assed school in there, and why there's one in each of the other Temples to me around the Alliance, none of that is a lie. A kid was in danger. I saved them. That's what I do." He looked up at me, tilting his head.

"So which are you? Tabitha Diaz, Champion of the Alliance, or Mimic, the Walking Ragnarok?"

"I'm me. I'm both of those. I'm neither, I'm just a kid from the streets with a knack for wrecking shit. But I swear to you, Larry Lancaster, Champion mine, I've never lied to you about who I am, about what I'm about. You know me," I smiled, laughter in my voice as I said, "I'm way too much of a dumbass to keep up an act for that long." He looked back at the ground.

"You saved my brother. You saved my love. You saved my son." Then he looked up, lifting Slayer up toward me, still held horizontal.

"For good or for ill, Tabitha Diaz, Mimic Reborn, you have my sword."