Bathroom Monologue: Technology and Magic Were Meant to Work Together in the Hands of a Chosen Few Geniuses

Angon stepped down from the battlement.

“Well, we’re done for now. They have ten thousand ships, and the royal fleet is only four-hundred strong.”

Ninx smirked and shook her head. “Surely you’ve heard of Helen of Troy.”

“The beauty so great her face could launch a thousand ships?”

“While all the Greek warriors were running off to skewer and get skewered, a distant ancestor of mine was sketching Helen’s face. He was a remarkably accurate artist.”

She pulled a parchment out of her jacket and tugged it open before Angon’s face. On it was a face so beautiful that he had to swallow and hold himself back; he was so stirred that he had to avert his eyes to stop entertaining the notion of marrying a piece of paper. Or at least raping it.

Ninx waved the drawing briefly before rolling it up.

“Surely you’ve heard of the famous Helen Drive. Can turn any privateer into a member of the armada. Even makes war ships, if you believe the mythology.”

He shut his eyes to end the temptation. Still he quivered.

“So you have a drawing that might pull a couple hundred ships out of the mist to help us. Even if it’s a full thousand galleons, we’d be out-numbered ten-to-one.”

She rolled up the parchment and smirked again. “But I have a photocopier.”