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  Gaia’s Majesty – Mission Called

  Women in Power

  Roger B. Burt

  Gaia’s Majesty – Mission Called:

  Women in Power

  by Roger B. Burt

  Copyright 2017, Roger B. Burt

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: [email protected]

  www.rogerbburt.com

  Cover Design: Laura Ambler

  ISBN 1-935994-25-5

  ISBN 978-1-935994-25-1

  epic fantasy series,empowerment of women,dreams and visions,science fiction and fantasy,feminism,ancient mysteries,angels,spirit guide,earth energy,myths and legends,apocalyptic,inspiration,spiritual,goddess,paranormal romance,women warriors

  Contents

  Chapter 1: We Will Have Justice

  Chapter 2: Very Special Women

  Chapter 3: Where Do I Belong?

  Chapter 4: A Promising Future?

  Chapter 5: A Future Dawns

  Chapter 6: What Is This Place?

  Chapter 7: Assembly of Lords

  Chapter 8: Karma?

  Chapter 9: Evil Partnership

  Chapter 10: At Last!

  Chapter 11: Struck Down

  Chapter 12: Fate Decided

  Chapter 13: Enhancement

  Chapter 14: Warning in the Mist

  Chapter 15: Healing in the Sea

  Chapter 16: Taking Flight Together

  Chapter 17: Overlord, Go to Hell!

  Chapter 18: Door to Her Future

  Chapter 19: A New World

  Chapter 20: They’re Real?

  Chapter 21: What of Our Future?

  Chapter 22: Life Renewed

  Chapter 23: Probing a Future

  Chapter 24: Confession – Confirmation

  Chapter 25: Banshee!

  Chapter 26: Adelais Demands

  Chapter 27: Can I Ever Be Alone?

  Chapter 28: You Are My Child

  Chapter 29: Power at Question

  Chapter 30: World View

  Chapter 31: Portent

  Chapter 32: She’s Not Stupid, Antonio

  Chapter 33: Mobilization Needed

  Chapter 34: Assembly for Action

  Chapter 35: Belated Prophecy

  Chapter 36: Time to Act

  Chapter 37: At Last She’s Coming

  Chapter 38: The Discoverer?

  Chapter 39: You Are Not Alone

  Chapter 40: Finding My Place

  Chapter 41: Now I Get It

  Chapter 42: Seeking Life’s Mission

  Chapter 43: Retribution!

  Chapter 44: She’s Formidable

  Chapter 45: Seeking an Identity

  Chapter 46: Ordained Again?

  Chapter 47: Reunion

  Chapter 48: Guidance

  Chapter 49: Flight from Fear

  Chapter 50: Reprieve

  Chapter 51: Impotence

  Chapter 52: Waiting in Pain

  Chapter 53: We Are Not Alone

  Chapter 54: Coming Home

  Chapter 55: Choice and Clarity

  Chapter 56: Transit Point

  Chapter 57: Acceptance

  Chapter 58: Fading Power

  Chapter 59: Welcome to the Future

  The Myth of Gaia’s Majesty

  Our Earth Mother, Gaia, was intrigued by clever creatures evolving on her Earth. They held great promise, but also danger for themselves and the planet.

  Since women were generative in agriculture, the arts, tended culture and produced the children, she chose a selected population of them and gave them the mission to be stewards of our planet and to guard the future of humankind. To serve them, she provided protected cities in the sea called Tethys. They also could live on the land as needed.

  The ones living in the sea were called Progenitors. The ones who came to land to form families were called Primals and among them was a warrior class called the Andromeda who stood in defense. Altogether they were called Tethyans.

  As earth falls deeper into social and ecological crises the day of the fulfillment of the Tethyan mission is upon us. This is the story of our future.

  Chapter 1

  We Will Have Justice

  The West Coast of Ireland

  The woman’s flight across Ireland felt endless. Only her determination sustained her in escaping the men chasing her. On the edge of the seaside village of Gaelach she’d concealed her car behind a barn. From ditch to alley to doorway she ran, watching for anything or anyone behind her. Dogs barked from small whitewashed cottages. Soaked to the skin from the pelting rain, she thanked Gaia for the weather that helped hide her and surely slowed down the men pursuing her. The information in the waterproof package she carried held the key to the fate of one of the world’s largest trading conglomerates.

  The small shop, located on a side road, had a “Closed” sign in the window. She paused, appreciating the welcoming roar of the angry ocean nearby. She listened for hints of danger, then knocked. Inside, an old woman held her waterproof packet as she shed her sodden clothes, leaving her naked except for an arm holster holding a Gerber combat knife. She tied her long wet hair into a knot, and the old woman strapped the packet tight to her back. Once outside the back door, she melted into the sheets of rain and raced for the sea.

  Just yards away from the waves, the men hunting her closed in. One man was upon her as she pitched herself into the waves. She took him down with her, driving her knife deep into his side.

  A strong swimmer, she dove deep. Her strokes strengthened as webbing spread between her fingers and a fish tail blossomed behind her. Crisp chirps guided her to a series of waterworn pillars far under the sea. She was joined by another woman who swam next to her. They exchanged high-pitched greetings, but her focus was on getting her package to the ultimate security of the Tethys.

  As they passed through the pillars, the blackness of the ocean dissolved and a glorious city, shimmering in a soft light, unfolded in front of them. All around were plants and marine animals glowing in rich hues. It was no longer nighttime along the Irish coast. It was now midday of the day before—a time differential which helped secure the city’s inhabitants.

  At last she could relax. She was home. The precious information she had brought was safe and would soon be transferred into the hands of those who would exact justice.

  Retribution for the conglomerate of predatory commodity traders was swift. The markets came alive in ways that proved devastating to the avaricious Overlords. Traders and their greedy investors were brought to their knees. The battle for the world was taking on a new dimension.

  Chapter 2

  Very Special Women

  Miami, Florida

  Brigid Lynch seized an end seat at the bar of Finnegan’s Wake, her favorite bar in Miami’s South Beach neighborhood. Bypassed by the tourists because of its prices, it was favored by the corporate types she watched as she waited for her friend, Luisa Penza.

  Brigid’s short skirt displayed her long slim legs and stylish stiletto heels. Her pale complexion, along with her brilliant red hair, proclaimed her Irish heritage. She ignored the men who tried to make eye contact. Sometimes they approached, but she either dismissed them with a wave or wagged a finger in seeming annoyance. She loved the game. She had come a long way from being the devastated little girl abandoned in an Irish village.

  “The usual, Brigid?” the bartender asked.

  “Ah, the curse of predictability, Josh.”

  The bartender winked. “Let me get you something n
ew and special.” He reached for an Old-Fashioned glass. “Twelve years old, pure pot-still whiskey. I see in the trades it’s the current darling of Irish whiskey circles in Manhattan.” Josh dropped a single spoonful of cold water into Brigid’s pour. “It makes the spirit’s notes of caramel and spice come alive.”

  She eyed him quizzically.

  Josh waited, arms folded, as she sniffed, then sipped.

  She smiled. “You’re indeed a fine fellow. As usual, put it on Mr. Covel’s tab. And I’m meeting my friend Luisa. You know the wine she likes. Please have a glass sent to our table.”

  Just then Josh pointed and Brigid turned to see her friend approaching. Darling Luisa always reminded her of a young Audrey Hepburn. Her dark, gamine haircut curled innocently around her ears, but her movements were provocative and this evening she was dressed as if meeting a lover. Brigid knew it was one of her favored acts. That’s what made Luisa such a good Andromeda operative who could draw a target in and then act swiftly and brutally as needed in defense of their Tethyan people. And both of them knew they dared not drop their roles in public.

  As Luisa approached, Brigid rose, smiled, and took her into a warm embrace.

  “How’s my Italian kitten this evening?”

  “I’m well, Brigid, and looking forward to some time away with our lords and masters.”

  Brigid stifled a laugh. “Our table is waiting in the back corner.” She picked up her whiskey and took Luisa’s hand. Together they strolled through the restaurant, aware of the lusting eyes following them.

  No sooner were they seated than the waiter arrived with the glass of wine for Luisa and presented a bottle for their approval. As he turned the label he fawned, “Josh thought this would suit you. It’s a rich and subtle Cabernet Sauvignon he personally selected for very special guests such as yourselves.”

  Brigid smiled just a little too graciously. Such fawning turned her stomach. “Open it and let it breathe,” she instructed. “You can pour when our starters arrive.”

  Luisa took a sip of her wine and leaned over. “You take good care of me. It’s nice to have such a good friend.” For a moment, she twirled her wine glass as a cloud briefly crossed her face. “And then, of course, there are the men we attend.” Her smile returned.

  Brigid raised her wine glass. “I like the word ‘attend.’ No caring. Just our duty as we serve our people.” She smiled. “And there are benefits, such as this place which I do love in spite of its unfortunate name.”

  “Finnegan’s Wake? I was so sure you would love anything Irish.” Luisa’s expression hinted the tease.

  Brigid narrowed her eyes. Leaning closer to Luisa, she whispered, “It has good liquor, service, and food in spite of the name. And it’s all paid for.”

  Luisa laughed at hearing the Irish accent that had suddenly inserted itself into Brigid’s response. “Yes, there are benefits. How’s my dearest friend this evening?”

  “Thriving, thank you. Life’s good, indeed.” Brigid lifted her glass.

  Luisa clinked hers against it, then took a sip. “Evan’s business is going well?”

  Brigid’s tone became conspiratorial. “He claims so, but does not go into details with his bed partner. I’ve overheard some things suggesting a problem with a weapons system. On the other hand, my business is booming.” A perfect cover, she thought, sipping her own wine.

  Evan had set her up as a high-end specialty travel concierge. His wealthy friends showered money on her to tend to their every desire, blissfully ignorant of the fact they were giving agents from Andromeda entrée into their lives.

  Brigid placed a restraining hand on Luisa’s arm and they fell silent as the plates were placed and the wine poured.

  Brigid observed Luisa. “How was your flight from Italy? You look totally relaxed and rested.”

  “The flight was uneventful. Antonio is very good to me; his new plane is glorious. I had every comfort.”

  Brigid patted her hand. “You should be used to it, darlin’, given the fact that your absurdly wealthy family had always spoiled you rotten.”

  As soon as she had said it, Brigid regretted her words.

  Luisa fell silent and looked down into her wineglass. “The problem, Brigid, is that I know I have a purpose, but it feels so far in the future. Antonio treats me very well, but many days I want something meaningful right now.”

  Brigid reached over and took her hand. “I meant nothing unkind. My statement was a tease. Just as when I call you Kitten.”

  Luisa brightened. “And Antonio loves my sex kitten act. He’s a consummate lover, which is a delight, but I know I’m a plaything and nothing more. It’s the larger mission I want moving forward.”

  “I suffer the same impatience, Kitten, but believe we’ll have more than we can handle shortly. I don’t know why I say that, but it seems inevitable.”

  Luisa narrowed her eyes. “An intuition of sorts, I assume, and I hope it’s fulfilled.”

  Brigid raised her glass of wine again. “To Gaia as she instructs us and guides our work in defense of the Tethyan people.”

  Luisa nodded slowly. “And to a carefree gathering when we meet again in the Caribbean.”

  Chapter 3

  Where Do I Belong?

  Miami, Florida

  Avery Corbett loved the exquisite feel of the evening and the view from the rooftop restaurant Julian had chosen. It had the character of an intimate French bistro with an ocean view. This evening the sea off Miami was uncharacteristically glassy, with a pristine full moon holding court. The dinner had been classic. Simple and delicious. The wine graced their choices.

  Avery felt she had found a promising relationship. Julian was tall, with an athletic build, and his eyes sparkled with intelligence. He shared Avery’s dedication to what she called “good works.” Their discussions were engaging and deep. But this evening he seemed lost in a convoluted and unfocused intellectual meandering. If only he would stop prattling on!

  She turned away from the view, smoothed her lush dark hair, propped both elbows on the table, cupped her chin with her palms, and fixed her light-blue eyes on him.

  She chose her words carefully and smiled. “Julian, I think you’re trying to go somewhere. Can you get to it?”

  He looked stricken. His quivering mouth suggested a stammer but he emitted no sound. At last he said, “Avery, I have come to believe that we are … are … just not working out.”

  Avery was stunned. Placing both hands flat on the table she leaned forward and fixed him with a stare. “You’ve brought me to this beautiful restaurant with a wondrous view to tell me we’re breaking up?”

  Julian’s head dropped. He muttered, “You’re a wonderful person, Avery, but I’ve concluded that our fit is not suitable.”

  Avery’s tone was demanding. “Not suitable?” Heads around them turned. “Cut the shit, Julian. How long have you been feeling like this?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you about my feelings,” he said softly.

  Avery pointed a rigid finger at him. “Somewhere down there, Julian, you may have some feelings, if you fight your way through the intellectual babbling. I honestly thought we had a future.”

  “I’m sorry, Avery. It’s just not working for me. You’re so full of life, but your passions exceed my capacity to share them. Including your passion in bed.”

  “Oh, that’s just lovely, Julian. Exceeding your capacity. Including our lovemaking.” Her anger was clear as she firmly brought her fists down on the table. She hissed, “How long were you going to leave me in the dark?”

  She threw her napkin down on the table, snatched her purse, and stormed out. All eyes followed her fury.

  When Avery reached her condo, she sank back against the front door, clutching her keys. “I don’t want to start over—again! Damn him!” Her stomach tightened and mouth went dry. She felt disoriented and drained.

  With resolve Avery drew deep breaths and focus
ed far out to sea where she could see glints of lightning. They seemed reflections of her inner pain. She shook her head as she tried to free herself from the feelings closing in. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard a comment from a boyfriend about her intensity—and not just in bed. It felt cruel.

  “It’s not fair. All I want is someone who’s there for me.” She shuddered at a clap of thunder and forced herself to enter the condo where she fell onto the couch sobbing.

  She lifted her head and looked at the wall where she displayed photos, bead bracelets, and textiles she’d brought back from her work trips. Developing microloans for women in Third World countries had turned into a personal passion. They were her family and, of course, she had to buy some of their handiwork.

  On a table below the wall were other souvenirs and remembrances. Her eyes always went to a bone from a large fish that had been carved into some sort of primitive weapon or tool, incised with swirling designs. It had been a gift from a woman in one of the villages where she’d been welcomed. The woman had fixed Avery with her eyes and insisted Avery would find it important—then refused to say more. The whole situation had been odd, and Avery had almost thrown out the bone, but for a reason she couldn’t explain, she was unable to part with it.

  As much as she loved her job and delighted in the countries it took her to, she always felt good returning to the place that had become her home. Her work helped fill her life, but never quite filled the hollow in her soul. Having a place where she could open the door and know the turquoise pillow would be sitting on her couch was precious.

  In some ways this was her first true home, although it lacked the comfort of family. She had led a nomadic life with her parents, whose work was dedicated to overseeing health-care initiatives in developing countries. While it had taught her to adjust to frequent changes, it also had left her feeling rootless, as though some kind of transit was always about to happen. Her parents had died in a car accident in Africa when she was in college, and with no extended family, she felt alone and abandoned. Sadness had persisted on the edge of her life.