Word: Irenic

irenic

or ei·ren·ic

[ ahy-ren-ik, ahy-ree-nik ]

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adjective

tending to promote peace or reconciliation; peaceful or conciliatory.

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               The man and woman entered Dr. Bekman’s office. The typical greetings were exchanged, and the couple sat on the provided chairs. Dr. Bekman sized the two up. They were both in their late 30’s, and were starting to show signs of a comfortable suburban life. She noticed that they did not look immediately hostile towards each other, which was a definite plus.

               “Comfy?” She asked her clients. Both nodded. “Wonderful, then let’s jump right into it. Why don’t you tell me what the basic problem is.”

               The woman, Mrs. McLien, started. “Well, I’d say it’s a matter of perspective. I see him as a lazy, self-absorbed idiot who can’t hold down a job for more than a week to save his life.”

               Mr. McLien nodded. “And I see her as a shrill harpy who can’t allow any kind of fun or enjoyment in everyday life.”

               “I see.” Dr. Bekman said. She bit the inside of her mouth. It would be so easy to…but no, she would not do that. She promised herself she would do this without it. Instead, she just took notes on the clipboard she had on her lap. “Please, continue. Mr. McLien, let’s start with you. Tell me everything about your wife, the good and the bad.”

               “Not much good about her. But the bad I can do.”

               As she listened to the man rant about every little grievance he had about his wife, Dr. Bekman fought an internal battle. She managed well enough, listening and asking questions as needed, and even taking a few notes. But inside, she was struggling to keep from using it. It would be so easy to just go in and fix the problems herself. But she had sworn not to. Not to take the easy route like she had so many times before. She would do this the proper way, and that would be longer and harder. Besides, she was billing by the hour.

               “And how about you, Mrs. McLien? What do you think about your husband?”

               The following rant was every bit as scathing as that delivered by Mr. Mclien. Dr. Bekman listened with the same level of attention. She would do this. She had the doctorate to show she could. She had worked damned hard for that, it was time to use it. And if she used her…eccentricities…she would never be able to prove she could get by without it. But it was just so tempting. These two had more bad things to say than good. It would only take her five minutes to go in and fix everything. All she had to do was give in and these two would leave happier and more at peace with each other than they could ever hope to otherwise. But it would also rob them of something precious that they would not even be aware of losing. No, she had to do this the proper way.

               When the wife was done, Dr. Bekman looked over the notes she had taken. “Well, looks like we’ve got a lot of things to work on. But it’s good that you both got everything off your chests and in the open. That’s an important first step. I know you’ve heard this a hundred times by now, but it really is true that the first step to fixing a problem is admitting there is one. Or, in this case, giving voice to the problems you feel the other has. Now, we don’t have time to start today, but why don’t you schedule another appointment with my secretary? We can start fixing the problems then, and get back the happiness you used to have with each other.”

               The couple grumbled, but reluctantly agreed. When they had left, she leaned back and let out a breath she had not been aware she had been holding. She had done it. She had gone the session without resorting to less natural methods. Without poking around in their only truly private places. And if she did it once, she could do it again with the next couple. She would do it. She would get through the entire day without breaking her promise to herself.

               Then she heard it. Her next appointment. The shouting through the thick wooden door alerted her to the nature of the next couple to enter her office. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be a long day.

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I imagine having psychic powers would open up a lot of opportunists for a person. Not all of them as nice as being a marriage councilor.  

Word: Modicum

 

modicum

[ mod-i-kuhm, moh-di- ]

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noun

1. a moderate or small amount: He hasn't even a modicum of common sense.

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Jaat hesitated before knocking on the old, moss covered door. His heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings and he looked over his shoulder at the heavily wooded path. He could still leave. The door had not opened yet. He swallowed the lump in his throat. No, that was wrong. He had come here to fix that problem.

               Slowly, the door creaked open. A cold air came from inside the hut that made his skin crawl for more than just the drop in temperature. No voice came from inside though. Jaat waited for someone to speak. Nobody did. His foot involuntarily started to move back. A sudden gust of wind from behind stopped that though. It picked up, becoming strong enough to force him to walk forward.

               Inside the old hut was a slew of tables, chairs and shelves, all loaded with dried herbs, animal parts, powers, vials, tubes, and other assorted odds and ends. The smell alone almost made him leave. But the door had closed on it’s own.

               “What do you want?” Came a voice. It was old and worn, but had an edge to it. It was like hearing his father’s old sword speak. From somewhere deep in the shadows a figure emerged, probably the owner of the voice. “Well? Speak up boy.”

               The figure was short, barely waist high on Jaat’s less than tall frame. It was covered in heavy robes, to the point where Jaat could not even tell if it was a man or woman. Or even what race the figure was. A dwarf, maybe? Or perhaps a gnome. It hardly mattered though. Jaat cleared his throat and began.

               “I…I want…I need to be a hero.”

               “You want to be a hero? Go to the academy. Not what I do.”

               “I…I know that. But, but I’m scared. I can’t do it on my own. I…I need something that’ll make me brave.”

               “Ah, I see. Now that, I can do. Let’s see what you have first.”

               The figure moved quickly over to Jaat and examined him. Even though the youth could not see the figure’s eyes, he could fee its gaze. It was seeing everything about him, all the way to his soul. He suppressed a shiver and the urge to flee.

               “Hm, yes, I see the problem now. Not enough courage to do much. Just a tiny amount, really. I’m amazed you made your way here at all. I can fix that. Oh yes, I can fix you right up. And quite a bit more at that. I can give you everything you need to be a hero, save the training.”

               For the first time in years, Jaat allowed himself to hope. To dream that he might be able to accomplish something of note.

               “But you know it will cost you, yes?”

               “I can pay. I’ve got plenty of coin.”

               “Oh no, this won’t cost something so ordinary. No, once you become a hero, I shall call on you, and shall make a request. Do this request for me, and all shall be well. If you do not, I shall take away what I give you today. Understand?”

               “Yes, yes. I…I understand. Please, I need this.”

               The figure got to work. It was a mass of cloth and components. The alchemist picked out ingredients seemingly at random, adding large amounts of some, small amounts of others, and barely any of yet more. The process took a mere half and hour to complete. When the figure was done, it handed Jaat a vial smaller than his little finger filled with a thick brown potion.

               “Drink this at precisely midnight, and it shall give you the courage of ten men, and the might of three. Drink it at any other time, and it shall be nothing but a bitter drink. The day matters not, only the time.”

               “I…I understand. I will do this. Th-thank you.” He said with a slight bow.

               “Of course, think nothing of it. At least, not until I come to collect my payment.”

               “R-right, yes, of course. Um, I…I’ll be going now then?”

               The figure nodded, a barely perceptible motion, and the door opened. Jaat allowed himself to flee from the alchemists’ hut, clutching the tiny vial to his chest like it was made of pure diamond. He had to resist gulping it down right then and there, but the sun was still up, so he had a good many hours before he would drink it. He would be a hero, and this little vial would be the first step on his journey.

              **********************************************

 Ah the ever mysterious witch/alchemist/old person. So tempting, yet so dangerous. Watch out for deals with vaguely defined terms like this. They will come back to haunt you.

Word: Leviathan

 

leviathan

[ li-vahy-uh-thuhn ]

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noun

1. (often initial capital letter)Bible. a sea monster.

2. any huge marine animal, as the whale.

3. anything of immense size and power, as a huge, oceangoing ship.

4. (initial capital letter, italics) a philosophical work (1651) by Thomas Hobbes dealing with the political organization of society.

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               Several men walked through the cold, sterile halls. Three wore crisp, clean military uniforms, laden with medals, bars, and rank insignias. The fourth wore a simple white coat over jeans and a t-shirt. The three generals looked like they would rather be anywhere else. Their guide looked incredibly pleased with himself.

               He was busy congratulating himself for his own work. The officers looked unimpressed by the man’s self-important rambling. One of them was very tempted to just hit the smaller man. He figured none of his colleagues would mind. But they needed him to explain what they had been summoned for.

               “Oh, trust me, generals, once you see what we’ve built here, you’ll be begging to increase our funding. We’re changing the face of warfare forever. Really, beyond the cutting edge stuff here.”

               One of the generals, General Leeson, finally snapped. “Oh just shut up already, would you? You keep saying how great everything is, but so far, all we’ve seen is hallways.”

               “Oh, yes, sir, I know. But there’s a reason for that. You see, we need a lot of space to build, so we’re quite far underground. We should be at the main building area in a minute or so.”

               The generals grumbled, but withheld further questions. Their guide stopped in front of a door. The only door they had come across since entering the top secret facility. A smile even larger than usual crossed the young scientist’s face.

               “Now, gentlemen, let me give you a rundown of the projects that are going on here. I don’t need to tell you three, but there are three main areas of combat, land, sea, and air, right? Well, we’re working on three projects that will allow us to dominate all three of them with only a handful of vehicles. We’re calling them Leviathan, Behemoth, and Dragon. So far, Behemoth and Dragon are only in the planning stages, mainly due to lack of funding. But Leviathan is in a working prototype phase. It still has a lot of work to be done, but it’s sea worthy, and all the main facilities are working within expectations.”

               “Very dramatic. But I hardly see the point of us being here. If all you’re doing is building a new warship, then it hardly warrants us being here.”

               “Oh, oh, no. Leviathan isn’t just another warship. It’s a whole fleet by itself. It’s far greater than anything ever produced by man. Here, let me show you.”

               He opened the door, revealing a vast shipyard. The place was big enough to fit three skyscrapers laid end to end with room to spare. And resting in that vast space was a ship unlike anything the generals had ever seen. It looked like a combination of a sea plane, an aircraft carrier, and a Star Destroyer. It’s triangular main body rested on three massive floatation devices, currently aided by supports built into the shipyard. It’s deck looked big enough to have four or five football games going on at once, while a command tower the size of a skyscraper rose into the air. And the thing was loaded with more weapons than a small army. Massive heavy cannons, thousands of high caliber gun turrets, rows of AA guns, and even a few missile platforms were all present.

               One of the generals let out a low whistle. “Well, it certainly looks impressive.”

               “As good as it looks, it performs even better. This thing is a seafaring fortress. No modern weapons short of a nuke will get through the Leviathan’s armor. It would take a concentrated salvo of the best missiles in the world just to put a dent in it. And boy does it have some serious firepower. What you see is just the tip of the iceberg. The Leviathan’s effective range is half a hemisphere. And that’s just the big guns. If you take the guided missiles into account, it’s a lot farther.”

               “This ship has ICBMs?”

               “About fifty of them, yes. Or, it will once it’s armed. Right now all the missile bays are empty.”

               “Can it even float?”

               “Of course it can. It has dozens of ways to regulate its buoyancy. It’ll float like a champ. It’s not fast, but it doesn’t need to be. Considering its range and the amount of planes it can dock, it barely needs to move at all. And don’t worry about fuel either. While it can run on good ‘ol deasil, that’s just the backup. It mainly runs of a combination of solar and hydro power. Solar is obvious. Thing’s got a solar far built right into it. And below, it takes in sea water and uses that to power itself. It has agricultural bays, recreational bays, everything a man or woman could want. It’s practically a floating, battle ready city. In short, generals, the Leviathan is completely self-sustaining. Sure, it’ll need to dock every now and then for maintenance and crew exchanges, but it can go for years without seeing land, easy.”

               The generals looked at the ship. Each of them was thinking what such a vessel could do. How it looked like it could demolish most navies on Earth by itself. The three of them looked at each other.

               “How long until its complete?”

               “It’s ready for an initial test run right now. All the systems left to do are ancillary. The critical systems should be good to go.”

               “Excellent. And you said you have plans for two more of these?”

               “The Behemoth crawling fortress and the Dragon airship, yes. If you agree to further funding, we’ll finish the Leviathan within a year, and then get to work on Behemoth. Dragon’s going to be a little harder, so it’s going to take more time and money. But yeah, we can get all three built.”

               “Good. Show us the interior. We’ll work out the details later.”

               The scientist’s smile should not have been able to grow as much as it did. “Wonderful. I knew you’d make the right choice. Now, the tour, right. Come on then. It’s a big ship, and there’s lots to see. Don’t worry, I promise you’ll like all of it.”

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Fortunately, something like this is probably not possible to build. The size of it would make it too expensive, and it might have a lot more trouble floating that I let on. Plus, the resource cost of it would be astronomical. Really, not possible to build with our current technology. And for that, I am very grateful.