Chapter 8: Windshift - the Whole Famdamnly

For the next few centuries...

'Few, my ass... 50 of the damn things.'

Wendy, don't interrupt.

'Will if I want.'

Wendy!

'Oh tell your damn story ... get it right. I'll be listening.'

For the next few centuries ... Wendy Wanzor Austin, quit grumbling.

'Nothing quite like the full name to know when to shut up!'

Well, do it then ... shut up.

'Yes, oh mighty master.'

W -e -n -d -y?

Laughter.

Too much chatter from the peanut gallery, girl.

'Girl? GIRL? I'll have you know I'm over five thousand years old ... girl my ass.'

You might be five grand but I control the watch. Gimmie dat thing.

Whether she wanted to or not, the watch left Wendy's cleavage. Tim snatched it and held it over his head as Wendy tried to climb up and snatch it back.

"If you want to keep traveling to the next Pharaoh, quit!"

"Actually, I'm getting damn tired of Egypt. Can't I go someplace else?"

The trouble with time travel is the sheer length of it. There's so much time and so little time to do it all. Wendy's course was set when the Tower collapsed.

Go to Rejuvenation. Study the history. Go back in time ... tell the asshole in charge what's going to happen to his sorry ass.

Rejuvenate. Study the history. Go back in time ... on and on and on...

A girl gets lonely ... being right all the time is no fun and the ONE time she decided to play with the facts ... sheer boredom, you understand ... the Powers that Be spanked her ass pretty good.

Plus ... she couldn't take her babies with her ... they died. Out living your kids and their kids and their kids is a definite bitch! Everyone but you gets old ... and that gets old.

Wendy was over it by the time the second Narmor combined the upper kingdom with the lower kingdom and changed his title.

Pharaoh?

What the fuck is a Pharaoh?

Just a name.

The problem with Pharaoes ... they die. And now there was a new religion springing up that denied that. The new priests are saying that the Pharaoh is a living god and gods don't don't die. As soon as the old husk was empty the 'essence' of the Pharaoh is instilled in the new Pharaoh.

Sounds good ... why do the priests need to spend so much time training the new guy? The dead one knew how to run the country ... why doesn't the new guy? How come the priests have so much to say about how the place gets run?

The priests, of course, have their own oracles ... they predict the future and they're right..."It might rain." "The stars aren't auspicious tonight." Nobody says, "Go ask Wanzor ... she'll know."

Some times it doesn't pay to be right. Like telling a head scribe, a trusted advisor, that his number is up tomorrow ... and he's found dead in bed without a single mark on him. Nobody needs to ask why he's in perfect alignment ... like he was in a casket holding a lily ... and the house girls aren't talking.

Guess who gets the blame ... Wrong ... nope not RA ... Wrong ... Not the house girl that was fucking him to death ... Yup ... Wanzor ... because she said so. Since she said so ... and he was in 'perfect' health (just ask RA's priests.) she must have done something to make him dead.

You will note ... no one said she killed him ... No, make him dead, they said. The difference is infinitesimal ... like murder in the first degree and murder in the second. No matter how they died ... someone is guilty.

Oh ... the priests of RA tried to do Wanzor in ... but she knows. It's simple ... don't drink the cup, kill the asp in the clothes bin, walk a little faster so the block falls behind or a little slower so the block hits in front...

"Tim?" Wendy Wanzor Austin said, "there's got to be a way ... I miss David." She sighed. "I miss him so bad ... this next great adventure isn't any fun."

"How would you like to go for a visit?"

"David?"

"No ... Wendolyn."

"Why there?"

"Junior is 12."

"Junior? She didn't!"

"She did!"

"Hell-of-a-name for a girl."

"Yup ... you never met her."

"No ... The tower fell before I had a chance to ... Wait ... who did she marry?"

"David."

"The cousin? He was so young."

"23 ... she was 35."

"How did that work?"

"Remember what she said when you sailed into Pentwater?"

"Yes ... after the Greek bowed and blew a kiss, she said, 'Momma, —I think I like this time.'"

"Think about that for a minute."

Wendy did just that. 'she has the watch ... she's married ... she has twins ... she hates the politics... ' The light dawned...

"When is she?"