Man, today was a blast! I am so glad my parents aren’t around any more because, after what I did today .. my Dad would go ballistic!

Look, it was not my fault, okay? No one got hurt. Least, no one good got hurt physically. I think several egos got severely dented but it was no more than they deserved.

What is it with these Legacy people anyway? Talk about pompous. They have rules, and then they have rules to govern the rules. I mean, come on! I got rules. I have to live my life according to the rules but they’re there to tell me who’s a legit target. The actual rules are very few. The other book, the thick thing I’ve had to memorize, that’s a book of guidelines more than rules. Every combat situation is different, we can’t have rules for that. How we do what we do is down to us as individuals. So long as we don’t touch bad, so long as we don’t cross the line, so long as the innocent of evil are not harmed by our actions, just about anything goes. Man, this is a great job! Who else can go out, do some really wild stuff, and not get into trouble?

Okay, rules. My rule book is thin, and it has really big writing in it. Anything and anyone who is evil is a target. That’s it, really. Number one rule. How can we tell? They stink. Just be glad you’re not one of us because the stink is the most godawful thing ever to go up anyone’s nose. Ordinary people .. that is people not born or made into a Flamefall can’t smell it. If you are one of us, I so commiserate with you. If you’re not .. be grateful you won’t ever get to catch that stench. If I said open cesspits on a hot day, you might start to get an idea of what it’s like. It’s actually a whole lot worse.

Flamefalls can enhance their senses. We got amazing night vision. Can hear a pin drop at ridiculous distances. We can feel the air move against our skin when someone behind us begins an attack. We can taste the fear of others. And we can smell evil. Fortunately for us, we can also tone down the sense of smell. What good is a warrior too busy throwing up because of the stink to be able to fight? None, right?

What else can we do ..? We can see things in different ways, like infra red. We can tell when someone is lying to us. But that isn’t everything it’s made out to be because the truth is subjective. For instance, if someone told you their name was .. John, and then I asked you who they are, you’d say John. You’d believe it, even if that person’s real name was Peter. If others lie to you and you don’t know … You get the idea? But if you outright lie to me, I’ll have you each and every time. What makes it an effective tactical option is the empathy we have. We can tell your emotional state. Most people are quite open about their emotions. What they feel inside is projected on their faces, and in their voices. But some of the people I have to deal with in the Legacy, and outside as well, they’re trained not to project. I think it’s a political thing and it’s an ability they’ve acquired rather than have organized training to learn this skill.

You want an example? William Sloan. Now there is a guy who says one thing yet is capable of feeling something else. Something totally opposite to his words. I have seen him and heard him in action and .. he was incredible. He looked at this one guy and said, very calmly, ‘take care of yourself’. His face was .. concerned. The guy he was talking to, he was very pleased that his boss felt so warmly caring. William Sloan didn’t give a rat’s ass for that guy. Inside, his emotions were cold. He was feeling that, if the guy got outside and was knocked down by a speeding automobile, he’d be rather pleased that he wouldn’t have to talk to him again.

I’m not telepathic. That’s one thing I cannot do – read minds or hear thoughts. I’m not precognitive, prescient, or clairvoyant. I cannot predict the future, I cannot get flashes of the past. My psi ability is zero.

There is one thing I can do with my mind which, to me, is like the poor cousin of psychic manifestation, and that is telekinesis. Or psychokinesis. PK, TK, the same thing. Most people look to the telepaths and the .. visionists. Can I call them that? Let me just tell you that, if your back is against the wall, telekinesis could save your life. Give me TK over a good vision any time.

Where was I ..? Oh yeah. Rules. Okay, you got the picture. My rules – very few and far between. Hunt down evil and destroy it. Don’t touch anything else. Pretty basic and it doesn’t leave any room for negotiation, loopholes, or any crap like that.

Legacy rules … I think they have several volumes. Thick volumes too. They make them up as they go along. Oh, hey, we’re up against a .. whatever. What does the rulebook say? Oh. That didn’t work last time. Let’s make another rule.

Flamefalls don’t have politics. We do have a leader, that’s true. But that’s just a title. Right now – can you believe this? – it’s me. And I don’t have time for all that back-stabbing and nitpicking. Me and the guys, we’re too busy working to have politics. Once a year, we meet up, kick ass and chill out. Rest of the time … It’s business as usual. If one of us runs into something new or an old tactic being used in a different way, and we think the others should know, we call each other.

The Legacy has politics. A ruling house. Hierarchy. Limitations. They are so bogged down in rules, they can’t function as they’re meant to function. From what I’ve seen, the younger and the newer Legacy members find it frustrating in the extreme. I don’t blame them. The older and more established find it .. comforting. The rules go back years, decades, centuries, millennia … Oh, God, how far has man evolved in that time? Why are they still tying themselves to rules which governed people who saw the fall of Alexandria and Constantinople? It would not surprise me to hear that they have a rule – which they have to obey – which states, if an emergency arises, it is permissible to steal a horse and ride for help. This in the day of telephones, faxes, and emails. Jeez, give me strength. Is it any wonder people get into trouble? Start ignoring one stupid rule, the temptation grows to ignore them all.

Right back at almost the start of the Legacy, they ran into us. There was a lot of .. bad feeling on both sides. For them, it was territorial. We were trespassing in their cabbage patch. For us, it was more .. ‘get outta the fucking way!’ We didn’t really care that much about them. They were like flies. They buzzed around, made a mess; they were pests. Nuisances. We tried not to swat them but … Well, let’s just say no one got killed but a few walked for a while with a limp.

But then, well, I guess everyone decided to step back and count to fifty, and calm down. Because we became their allies. It was never a case of they became ours. To be honest .. we didn’t need them then and we don’t need them now, but they sure as hell need us. An agreement was hammered out – and I think they really did use hammers – and we agreed that we would do our thing without them interfering – or getting in the way – and they would do their thing and we wouldn’t interfere in them sticking their noses into bad. If they ran into something which started out as bad and suddenly got a lot worse, they could call on us for help. Fine with us. No problem with dealing with a request like that.

And then they asked us to make sure they obeyed their rules. They wanted us to enforce Legacy law. Interpreted, they wanted us to keep them on the straight and narrow path. Stop them giving in to temptation.

After a few years of this, they added to the agreement and made it into a mandate. We would protect their members and their property against harm. We wouldn’t initiate contact, they would call us in if there was a problem.

For a very long time, this worked just great. We got along. Them and us .. occasionally became we.

And then .. it kind of changed. The mandate stayed the same but contact would only come thru the ruling house. It fit better into their hierarchy. Precepts called London, London called us. And then .. it got tighter still. The Precept of the ruling house was the only one to make contact. It doesn’t really affect us. It does affect them. We keep a mild eye on them, from a distance, but we can’t interfere. I think it’s going to cause big problems. Legacy houses have gone over to the Darkside before. But .. hell, who am I to tell William Sloan his job?

Anyway, back to today. I was in New York, and I wasn’t there on business. I swear it. I did not go there to interfere. I was just .. strolling by outside. And I smelled that oh so particular stink of corruption. My rules say I cannot ignore that. So I went in.

Guess what I found? One of those rinky dink Legacy tribunals. Sir Edmund Tremayne presiding. Jeez, what a pompous old fart he is! The way he reacted to me walking in, anyone would think that God gave him his authority to walk roughshod over the basic human rights of other ‘lesser’ beings. They are supposed to be on the same side, aren’t they? With friends like him, who needs enemies? Don’t get me wrong, I am all for rooting out corruption. It’s just that .. I can do it so much faster and with much less ill feeling all round. What’s the most they could have to complain about? A small scorch mark on the rug. Is that such a big deal? No, it isn’t, not in my book.

Well, I didn’t hesitate. I detected the odor, I had to do something. My rules demand it, and, under the terms of the agreement and the mandate, I was honor bound to go in. Evil presence, protecting members and property. I’m covered for when the protests to Sloan begin.

First up, there’s this big guy in a suit standing guard just inside the door.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he began.

Look, I’m twenty two years old. Being called ma’am makes me feel like I’m approaching one hundred. It isn’t a good word to say to my face, if you know what I mean.

I pushed him out of the way and kept going. I heard the very distinctive sound of a firearm being eased quickly from a holster.

“I wouldn’t,” I said, not even slowing down. I certainly didn’t have to look back at him. “Not if you want to keep the use of that hand.”

I’ve got to give the guy credit. He had guts. I’m sure the blisters from the burns caused by the red hot metal will go away soon.

Next, two guys in suits standing guard just outside a set of double doors.

“You can’t go in there,” one of them said.

I laughed. “Watch me,” I invited.

Again .. credit where it’s due. They tried to stop me but I tossed them aside. Maybe it’s in their rules that they have to do this. Do not, under any circumstances, ask reasonably pertinent questions when faced with a strange situation – just make statements, be obstinate and, if at all possible, become physical. If I ever get a chance to talk ordinary sense to a halfway rational Legacy member, I’ll have to ask. Anyway, I pushed on the doors and in I went. And I ran straight into the brick wall of Sir Edmund Tremayne.

Up he got from his chair, his face going that wonderful pinky red which tells me I’m in for a big load of bluster and hot air.

“What is the meaning of this?” he thundered. “This is a closed proceeding!”

You know, I can understand it. Thinking back, I can. I don’t look any different to the next woman on the street. Yeah, okay, I have this white streak in my hair but, apart from that, I’m just like you to look at (unless you’re a guy). Today, I was in denim jeans tastefully ripped at the knee, black leather biker jacket and three inch stick heel boots. I think the T-shirt I wore had some writing across the front .. it could’ve been that which sparked so much ire. But I have to say that I didn’t look like I’d wandered in off the street to ask for directions. I did have a purposeful expression on my face.

“Yeah, whatever, bub,” I said, looking round the room. People were staring at me. Eyes wide. Mouths slightly open. Jaws just a little unhinged. The three at the top table were going beet red with throaty indignation. The five poor souls being interrogated looked .. just a little grateful for the interruption and to the opening up of the closed proceeding.

“Who the devil are you?” Sir Edmund demanded.

“Poor choice of words. I’m no devil .. but I’m here to find one.”

“So are we. I insist you – ”

“Can’t do. Don’t ask.”

I love cutting into bluster. I love the color effect on the face.

“This is intolerable!” Sir Edmund hissed. He was going lilac and deepening fast to purple. “I shall call for – ”

That’s when I did it! Man, I have never done it before. It is a blast! I just looked up at him and I silenced him. I took away his voice. His jaw opened and closed. He put a hand to his throat. Nothing came out. Silence – apart from a few muted gasps from everyone else – returned to the room.

I know what you’re going to say – mind control. And, yeah, in a way, you’d be right. And, in another way, you’d be wrong. It’s that TK again. Most people associate telekinesis with moving the chairs around, lifting books, all that basic shit. Basic shit like I could do when I was three years old. You have to take it further, okay? This is the application of TK to supply power to electrically operated equipment – and I don’t mean like using it to flick on a switch. I’m talking .. the plug isn’t in the socket at all, but the kettle still boils. It’s the TK which lets us into computers so we can access information remotely. It’s the TK which lets us squeeze someone’s heart till it ruptures – how else can we take down an enemy in the middle of a crowded shopping mall? No, it isn’t a fair fight and we do prefer to use a proper weapon but evil never fights fair and we do have a full tactical range at our disposal.

In this particular case, I paralyzed his vocal chords. He could still breathe. He could still go red in the face with indignant outrage. But he couldn’t talk.

“Anyone else want to say something?” I asked. My Mom always said I should try real hard to be polite to my elders. “No? Well, okay, I’ll just get on with it.”

I turned to the five sitting there. It was the one in the middle. I took him down. Small scorch mark on the seat of the chair. No big deal.

I looked at the three at the big table. “End of tribunal. Enemy eliminated. Sir Edmund, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure and I am very grateful that I haven’t had the pleasure this time either. I don’t tolerate fools but I will make an exception in your case because you’re Legacy and my mandate says I have to protect you. This house is now clean of infestation. Try to keep it that way, huh?”

I inclined my head. “Good day, gentlemen.”

I walked out. At the door, I snapped my fingers and glanced back over my shoulder.

“Apologies,” I said with what my Dad always described as a wicked grin, and I pointed a finger at Sir Edmund.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked .. but there was a lot more respect in his voice.

I smiled at him. “Someone you should really hope you don’t meet again.”

TK is a fabulous gift to possess yet it’s always vastly underrated. That’s my opinion, of course. My Dad, if he was still alive, would have told me doing what I did today was an abuse of my power. Maybe it was. Jury’s still out on that one. But I saved time, effort and got the evil guy. And .. if it had been my Dad there instead of me .. I’d lay money he would’ve done exactly the same thing. We’re cut from the same cloth. We’re Flamefalls. Take us or leave us as you want, but, if you’re evil, never think we’ll let you escape. Can’t do, don’t ask. It’s the rule.

Merlin Flamefall Gabrielli

Aquila

May 2 1996

© Jay Brown, 2001