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1
It was a warm, dry September day in San Juan Capistrano, California. Directly across from the noted Mission itself was the outdoor patio of a restaurant.
She sat at one of the cloth umbrella-shaded tables, holding a spot at it while fussing with a tablet computer. The trees shading the area and the potted red geraniums underneath them got attention from her, because it was better than thinking. She swigged some more iced tea, because that was also better than thinking.
Okay, do I smell funny? Any weird eyebrow hair? Piercings all in place? No weird stains on my clothes? No weird clothes? No weirdly stained clothes? Should I - WHY THE HELL AM I DOING THIS - oh, yeah, that's why.
Marie, Human Exemplar of Choice, hated being alone with her thoughts. Sitting and waiting meant she started to think, and that usually caused Problems to her mental composure even after two months of enforced vacation. Largely because what she started to think about as usual was the magnitude of what she was dealing with. That way lay panic.
Why did I come half an hour early? Did I remember everything from the Home Office? I am wearing non-ripped denim and an actual fucking blouse. I feel like yuppie scum. Her eyes unfocused and she cocked her head this way and that. Nope, not yet. Well, of course not, still a couple minutes. Gonna be on the dot, if last time was any indication. And there of course was some of the rub on why her brain would not shut up. The last time in question she had not been in the best of condition, to wildly understate. She was better now, but how much and by whose metrics she wasn't sure. Particularly those of her, for a lack of better terminology, direct supervisor. With whom this was the first of the new meeting schedule, and who had rather exacting standards from what she had heard. At least when you weren't a PTSD-riddled wreck on the verge of collapse, anyway.
Please nobody invoke me please nobody invoke me please nobody invoke me. Somebody probably would. It was probably like the Superior version of digestive issues or being on the rag during a major interview. Or having your MMO dungeon queue pop right when you had to use the crapper. And there was just the one of her, so it was even worse.
She was so preoccupied with the inevitable horrible inconvenience that she sensed the Symphonic ambient change only a couple of a seconds before the other chair was pulled out and sat in. She was incredibly proud that she just managed a guilty look and didn't squeak. She snorted her tea, though.
"Why are you acting like I just caught you committing a crime?" the newcomer asked.
"Ack." Well, that was a smart response. Up there with Einstein and Hawking in intelligence, yup.
Marie objectively knew that other people couldn't see what she saw. Certainly not the looming, shadowy black wings and most certainly not all the synaestheste impressions of razor edges and tempered steel that was the echo of his Word within the Symphony to her. But it still boggled her that normal humans just saw the slight, short, dark-haired man and left it at that. Even with a physically unimposing corporeal vessel like the one he favored, he still moved like a predator. In this case, a confused predator who was watching her cough Lipton iced tea out of the wrong tube.
Luckily for her she didn't register to the Malakite Archangel of the Sword and Commander in Chief of the Army of Heaven as prey. A subordinate with more Issues than National Geographic was a whole different embarrassing story.
"Are you okay?" Laurence asked.
"I uh... cough cleanin' out the cough sinuses, that's all. Didn't hear you come cough in, yanno. Uh. Sir."
He sat forward and sighed. "Relax, Lady Exemplar. You haven't committed any crime and I'm not the Inquisition. Spanish or Dominican." She responded by waving around the tablet while getting the last of the tea out of her trachea. "And this is an unofficial meeting and we're peers, so just my name is fine."
"Uh, right, er, Laurence."
He looked her over. "You look much improved over last time."
"I hope so. Marc and Novy didn't go halfway in making sure I was off the job. They fed my face, stuck me on beaches, let me watch movies and read, and Novalis had people pick my brains so I could unpack... stuff. And they both told me they signed off to you about my returning to the front lines."
"They did, yes, and they were right."
"Hope so. I... still have a bad night, every so often." He nodded to that.
"Which is why 'easing back into it' is my advice to you. I don't want to see you relapse either."
Marie couldn't answer to that so decided to cut to the chase. "Anyway. We're having these things to communicate what's going on, right? Sirushi got me a synopsis of what went down when I was out. And what we've got in mind for the near future." She pushed the tablet over, turning it on. He matched it with another tablet he pulled from... somewhere.
"I've got the most recent Seraphim Council minutes in synopsis form for you here too. Piece of warning, though."
Marie looked over, wide-eyed. "What's that?"
"Even if they were held in Heaven, the novelty value is going to wear off. Fast." He kept a deadpan face but she swore she saw his eyes twinkle. "Penance is called wading through these things. Do you want the boring parts now, or later?"
2
"Well, first things first," the Lady Exemplar said. "You'll be happy to know I've finally gotten myself a second."
Laurence snagged a piece of sushi with surgical precision. "Oh ho. Good. Who is it?"
"Sirushi."
"Excellent news." He smiled. He'd been privately hoping for that outcome for a few weeks. The Kyriotate of Trade had been a prime mover in organizing Marie's nascent group of Servitors and in keeping things going during her enforced sabbatical. "She's switched fully over to Choice?"
Marie's mouth crooked. "Yeah. She landed it on me before I even brought it up. I'm... not keen on forcing switches fully to me if they don't want, but she'd already been to see Marc. Let her go with a smile and a generous severance package." Which Marc had already told Laurence was all but a foregone conclusion beforehand, seeing as how Sirushi was happier and felt she was much more useful in Choice than as another one of his Traders. He'd laughed when he'd described the multitude of ashamed wringing hands when the Domination had brought it up and her relief when Marc had had no issue with it. The Archangel of Trade had been sorry to see her go, but had agreed fully with Sirushi's assessment.
"He's fond of you, so small wonder. Though it was just a formality by this point, I think. Her skillset has been invaluable for you."
"Well, yeah. I need me a Kyriotate with organizational skills to make up for my uh... deficiencies."
He waved a California roll at her between his chopsticks. "There's no sin in that. She can multitask. She can keep things organized. She can cover when you need to sleep or recuperate. She can liaise between you and Heaven. She can also provide a handy source of communications and physical backup without being blatant, depending on what host she's in at the time. Just in case Hell tries to feel their oats again and try something again anytime soon."
"That's why I got me so many Kyriotates, because they're awesome like that." The Archangel of the Sword grinned to that. "Even before everything went down." Marie's expression tightened; the memory was clearly still raw even after a couple of months' distance. "Speaking of." She speared a spicy tuna roll with a fork and more ferocity than it strictly needed. "I now don't have anybody specializing in Latin American affairs. Not really well. The last, well..." she trailed off. Had been Pilar, he filled in mentally while Marie munched wearing a downcast expression. While Pilar was now enjoying her Heavenly reward much to Laurence's own relief, the way she'd gotten there had been traumatic for both Pilar herself and for Marie.
"Hm."
Marie's eyebrows shot up. "Hm?"
"I've got a few ideas going on that way. I'll get back to you on it soon."
3
Of all the expressions she'd ever expected to see on the Archangel of the Sword's face, she'd never expected that one. Probably had something to do with the soot, fluorescent pink spray paint, splattered eggs, and looking like she'd tangled with a pit of crazed alligators after the rest had happened. At least nobody else was near the park bench. Marie waved the cricket bat in what she hoped was an apologetic way while wading back towards Laurence through the crackling orange surf of autumn leaves.
It was only about five minutes since she'd been yanked by a Choice cell and left the Malakite waiting, but they had been really exciting minutes.
"Uh... sorry. Invocation. Bad timing. Did I mention Kobalites don't like getting severe rebar wedgies?"
"...They're still alive?"
"If they can get down from five hundred feet up while hanging from their underwear. They didn't shower. Nasty." She gagged.
"Did you get pictures?"
"No. I was busy."
"Well, that's disappointing. I was hoping for something interesting after all the bureaucracy today."
She stuck out her tongue before remembering herself. "Well, I was hoping for a demon that knew how to use deodorant, but we can't all get what we want."
Okay, so that wasn't so diplomatic, but the good thing about being up for thirty-six hours straight was she didn't give much of a shit anyway. Though he seemed to think it was funny.
4
"Kaiel's back." The Exemplar smiled. "Different vessel, but definitely her. I think everybody missed her. Even the Creationers and the Fire folks." She splattered some more vinegar on her fish and chips.
"Excellent. How is Oscar working out so far?"
"Great. Thank you for loaning him. Been the bomb for knowing the situation in Central and South America."
Laurence tried not to look resigned in the direction of Heaven. "I don't know I 'loaned' him so much as he loaned himself. He was... very insistent about it. Technically every Soldier of God and Saint falls under my purview regardless of Superior, but Oscar has the option of joining you full time in truth instead of In Service To if he wants. I didn't force anything about his decision when he chose to become a Saint and to work for you. All I did was sign off on it and provide the vessel." Marie plowed through her food with the single-mindedness of a very hungry mortal while looking out at the London downpour. He arched his eyebrows when she suddenly looked thoughtful and focused on him. "Hm?"
"So... where do I fall in this?"
"This what?"
"This... command structure." She waved a chip around. Her eyes widened as he frowned, then she relaxed as he sat back and pondered.
"That's... an interesting question. For myself, really. Not just you."
"Mmf?"
He looked over at her seriously, folding his hands. "Remember how I said I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with you back at the St. Joseph Tether? Not that you want to remember, I know. It wasn't meant as an accusation. Theoretically, it's not just the humans on Heaven's side that are mine to command. I also coordinate operations amongst the other Archangels, and can bring their assets to bear as needed. With varying degrees of success." He added that a trace sourly. Getting into the details of inter-factional sniping within the Seraphim Council was something he didn't want to touch on just yet. "The main point is that in the end, the entire objective of angels and of the War isn't so much to thwart Hell – though that's a prime goal – as it is to serve humanity. To help you and yours reach their potential despite what Lucifer's ilk are doing to cut it off. As far as I'm concerned, if we lose sight of that single fact we've already lost. As have you."
"And how does that figure into where I am?"
"Angels are meant to serve and aid humanity, not control them or treat them like tools."
Her expression shifted into a glower that echoed the rain outside the pub. "Not the impression I got from a few Soldiers I've talked to. If you think I was bad off? Some of them got run just as ragged and they didn't have my resources and they didn't even do it to themselves like I did. Some of their supervising angels were just..." She trailed off, clenching her jaw.
His eyes narrowed. "Do tell. I'd like to know details, so I can deal with that. I assure you that's not something I approve of and I'll fix it."
"Good. Y'were saying?"
"Ah... well. As I'm sure you've noticed me and mine in the Sword are rather hierarchy focused."
"Juuuuust a little bit."
Laurence grinned at the snark. He certainly wasn't going to deny it. "Humanity gets more latitude than angels, as far as I'm concerned, but military rank is also a factor. In my worldview, things like that have had their nameable scabbards in that regard. Up until now."
"G'wan?"
"The other Archangels serve me in the War effort. But we're meant to serve humanity. You're technically on equal footing with the Archangels and the Seraphim Council, but you're human, Exemplar. Where do you fall in my worldview? I still don't know." He watched as she pondered, then her eyes widened.
"So I'm off to the side in rank limbo in the flow chart?"
"Or near my equal. I'm still trying to figure it out."
"Wait, what? No way. No way."
Laurence smiled wryly, shaking his head.
"Like I said... I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with you."
5
"You're looking devious."
"I'm working on something. Have for a while, ever since I got out of stir."
"What, if I can ask?"
"Revenge. It's under development. The revenge, I mean. Almost there, though."
"The way you're looking, this must be interesting revenge."
"Oh, you have no idea."
6
Marie was looking smug. Her closed-mouth smile stretched across her face and her eyes were narrowed. Even the way she gracelessly plopped into the chair opposite him had a certain "I know something you don't know" aspect to it. She telegraphed her strikes far too much. He didn't even need his Elohite resonance to tell she could barely wait to tell him why.
Laurence hiked an eyebrow and shoved a piping hot plate of fried bass and hushpuppies across to her. "All right. What gives? You've got something and I want to know it."
Marie's smile cracked into a delighted and lunatic grin that made Laurence almost expect her to go Vapulan on him for a second. Manic glitter to eyes, check. Dark rings under her eyes, check. Small fragments of... ceramic in her hair? Merciful Heavenly Father in the Higher Heavens, what had she been up to? Did he even really want to know?
Yes, actually he did, he decided.
She leaned over and stage-whispered it at him, never mind the ruckus from the Knights of Columbus fish fry around them would have made it impossible for any mortal ears to hear. "I have cracked it! Nyarharharharhar!" Okay, now the hands rubbing together were worrying.
"Cracked what? Oh, and eat it before it gets cold. So spill it before you do, Exemplar, so I'm not left dangling."
Her grin was ferocious. "Remember when that SOB faked being human and fucked up everything?"
"How could I forget?"
"Living well isn't the best revenge." Her teeth bared. "Reverse-engineering an attunement is."
Laurence paused with fork halfway to his mouth, not even bothering to use his Distinctions to hide his shock. "What?"
"It's a little thing I call 'Silent Running'."
He slowly lowered his fork back to his plate, staring at her.
"If that's what you're implying it is, it's a ‘little thing’ that's a game-changer. Pardon the pun."
7
"So the Council knows by now? Marie rammed a turkey lettuce wrap into her mouth and started munching with dedication. A seagull – not one Sirushi was in – gave her a mad yellow eye of speculation. She ignored it. Let it get its own lettuce wrap.
"The other Archangels do, yes. Excepting Revelation, of course." She gave a muffled groan, her eyes looking towards Heaven before plopping her head onto her knees and rolling it around. "I gave them the debriefing and the information package you gave me on your new attunement's capabilities, both angelic and human forms, and suffice to say to a one they're all very interested. To understate wildly. I personally don't like to keep the information from Litheroy, but we need to keep the element of surprise as long as we can."
Marie swallowed with a grumble. "Gah. Freakin' Litheroy." She had nothing against the Seraph in question, it was just...
Laurence's brow furrowed. "Any particular personal problem with him?"
Marie's free hand raked through her hair. Damn, she needed a cut. Maybe a shower too. She really hoped the Archangel of the Sword wasn't noticing the BO of the Exemplar. "It's just... argh. He blats things everywhere and he thinks that... that... if everything is open and freely known and available to everybody then nobody can use anything against anyone and everything will be fine and dandy and...arrrrrgh." She chewed ferociously on another bite of wrap and then yelped as she bit a lip. Damn, blood. Swallowing, she added, "He hasn't left me alone for a single week since he found out about me. He keeps asking questions and acts like a kicked puppy when I don't want to answer them and--"
"And what is wrong about that?"
"He's got an If/ Then problem." When he hiked his brows in inquiry, she elaborated. "The thing where 'If everyone were or did or saw everything the way I do Then everything will be magically fixed.' Begging your pardon, but a lot of you kind of have that problem. If everyone used kindness and peace, or all information were available, or if humans were busted back to hunter/gatherer, or all converted to Islam, or.."
"...were all Roman Catholic?" he finished dryly. She could feel her face go ten degrees hotter. Damn white-ass complexion; she probably looked like a baboon butt now. The seagulls, waves, and Key West pier suddenly got a lot more interesting. She followed four brown pelicans skimming the waves like they were the most fascinating things in the universe during the uncomfortable silence.
"...Yes." She was so proud of herself for managing that after several seconds of mortificati0n. Man, she hated being tired; she totally couldn't keep her mouth shut when it'd be best to. At least he wasn't looking miffed; more amused if anything.
"Heh. I won't hold it against you. I would like it, yes, but I also know the perfect can be the enemy of the good."
"I like being a bad Episcopalian, okay? The, the point is," she said, waving an arm around and trying to get past the uncomfortable part, "is that it's not. That simple I mean. Never was, never is. I mean, I know Lithy's a Seraph and they go True and Not True a lot, but down here, it's a lot messier. Everything is messier."
"I know that."
"You don't understand it in the same way, though. You're not in it. I mean. It's just, donchaknow, I'm sure it's a noble goal, but we need our mental private spaces. The Labyrinth Litheroy goes on about and can't understand why people go running back into? Us humans are neurotic messes. All of us. Hiding shit from others n' ourselves is sometimes the only thing that keeps us sane." Laurence looked thoughtful at that. "I know it doesn't make sense, but it's true. No, I dunno why either. Nobody gave me a damn manual on being human any more than they did on being Exemplar."
"Litheroy's openness is useful, though. Even in tactics."
"Meh, how so?"
"Because in the end the information he disseminates gets to Hell."
"..wait, what? Isn't that donchaknow, a bad thing?"
"There's a reason he was finally officially pulled into the loop while you were... indisposed. Asmodeus obviously already knew. Perhaps not all of the rest of the Princes did yet. The stunt the Game pulled would not sit well with all of the rest of them, given the differing modus operandi they have and the fact they're always looking for a bared back to insert a blade into. If they also found out at the same time that the Game was hiding this piece of information..." His grin was a predatory sickle. "He's not well liked even for a Demon Prince. They're going to be too busy trying to tear him apart to pay us or you much attention for a while. Long enough for you to get your bearings, I hope. And long enough for the Host to reap the benefits, as were. Oh, and have I mentioned for once every Archangel is absolutely furious in the same direction because of what happened to you and yours? Even Jordi? I'm using that momentum for as long as I can."
She stared at him, boggling and letting the logic parse.
"...Oh wow, that is some sneaky-ass evil stuff right there. I salute you." She did. He grinned more fully and inclined his head.
"Thank you. It's a learned talent."
8
"So, I've got a little list." Laurence laid out the paper on the stainless steel counter. Marie twirled over on her stool to look at it, the long way around. He'd shielded their immediate area from eavesdropping, but the jukebox music would still have done an excellent job of masking the surroundings.
"Of those who won't be missed?" The Exemplar swallowed a handful of french fries in a manner that was equal parts impressive and mannerless. He gave her a look. "What? Sorry, Gilbert and Sullivan moment. I was force-fed The Mikado at a young and vulnerable age and I just had a brain fart." She could veer off on the most random tangents. Especially when slightly sleep deprived like now. She was much less likely to censor thoughts for appearance's sake around him and he had to admit these meetings were far more entertaining when she was like that.
He gave her a flat sidelong glance."No." he drawled.
"I know, I know. Lemme guess. Candidates for me to give the attunement goodness to?"
"That's the right guess. All qualified, all experts in covert operations, all well versed in the corporeal, all with enough sense to use it responsibly. And you'll be pleased to note not all of them are angels, either. Some Soldiers, some Saints." He indicated those names. She bent down and looked it over, sharp dark eyes flickering over it while taking a bite out of her hamburger. Sometimes he wondered what moves and feints were happening under the surface gleam in that mortal mind. She swallowed and looked up.
"Far's I can see or no, no particular issue with them since you vetted them and you know them better. Just... it's going to take a while to get to them all. Even if my Word does have a lot of oomph, I'm not made of essence, I have to save some for my own folks, and well, " she squeezed her eyes shut tight, "a whole lot of other people have got their lists too. Some of them not so little." She made an audible cringe. "Marc's given me good reasons and explanations for why he wants the people he does but Michael's got pages. And pages and... oh god, so many pages. What." Whiiiiine.
Laurence laughed. "Oh, I'm sure he does because this is the most marvelous thing that's happened for him and his Word in I don't know how long. I'll tell him to back off if you need me to. Nobody wants you to overextend yourself again, least of all me." He snorted and held up the sheet. "That's why I tried to keep my initial list short and sweet for you. I hate paperwork. Guess who's got a part of himself doing it and how often?" Marie blinked and grinned, spluttering out a cackle.
"No guess, and 24/7?"
"Just about. To paraphrase Bujold, everybody wants to have the Commander's seat, but they don't want the Commander's desk. Even up there there's bureaucracy and I don't have to like it even if I have to do it. And I have a feeling given your range of time and energy you'd like it even less." She snickered and nodded wryly, then a thought visibly careened out of left field and hit her.
"Could be worse, though."
"And how, hm?"
"Janus could be in your seat." Laurence paused, then dropped his forehead into his hand. The groan of horror wasn't any less for all the previous times he himself had thought about it. He'd thought about it a lot. "I know, right? He's got the attention span of a flea on crack. Forget paper trails! Just shred it all! Whee! Booya!"
"Let's just... leave that idea where I don't have to look at it. Please."
"Just had to share that to get out of my system. You're welcome."
9
"That's it for what's happening in the Council. Did you get your hair trimmed?"
"Er, well... yes. Joe – I mean, Jophiel that is – he cut it for me. He was at the Home Office right then."
"He did a good job. It's flattering on you. Not that I'm much a specialist on hair styles."
"You shoulda seen it before." Joe had, and the saucer eyes on the Mercurian had made her wonder if they were going to fall right out of his vessel's sockets. Not in the good way either. "I um... well, it was getting long, and...well... I was on the run... and...um..." She trailed off under Laurence's stare, which was what she had learned over the past two months made of a combination of 'I'm going to regret knowing this, aren't I' and 'oh well, not really my problem, so I'll rubberneck anyway'.
"...well, I cut it." she said lamely.
Laurence folded his arms. "And it wasn't a success?"
"Er. Uh..." Oh shit, she hid things under that Look almost as badly as when Dominic gave her his variant. Or worse, Novalis, because of her extra Mom Element. The confession blurted out as an "Okay, actually Joe went 'What the hell did you do, use a weedwhacker?'"
A corner of Laurence's mouth twitched. "Well, did you?"
"... No."
"What, then?"
"The kukri." And now she got the flat look of '...what' as his arms went down to his sides.
"You used... the kukri."
Amongst Marie's 'welcome to the team' gifts a few months ago had been a Damascus-forged artifact kukri made for her grip and reach with a summonable feature. Laurence evidently had judged given her lack of expertise with all things bladed and pointy that it would be of the most use to her in the widest range of circumstances. Marie for her own part had decided all those Gurkhas couldn't have been wrong. "Well, it was the closest sharp thing I had! And my hair was starting to get in my eyes, and I had to go to Cambodia next and you know how damn hot it gets in the tropics when you're me? Okay, and my judgment sucked, because I was overdue for some sleep and will you stop looking at me like that?" Laurence was now pinching the bridge of his nose and his shoulders were twitching.
"Jophiel... did an excellent job with what he must have had to work with." he replied in a careful voice after a minute. "I suppose that's something you have to be thankful for this week."
"...oh, knock it off."
10
Michael talked a lot about what had happened over the past ten billion years, but a lot could also happen in ten minutes.
Laurence had had to absent himself during the meeting for a bathroom break that was actually his responding to an invocation over in Sacramento. That had been about two minutes of him finding out what it was (a squabble between two Servitors on proper Advent liturgy that had gotten way out of hand), three minutes of him finding a solution with the least issue for both parties, three minutes of him giving a mild chew out to both angels on why on Earth did they need him for that, another two minutes telling them the proper channels and circumstances under which getting him was actually appropriate, and meanwhile for six minutes the factor of himself in the Cathedral of the Sword dealing with paperwork was quietly banging his head on the desk in private. In the meantime, Marie's singular self was stuck on a patio at an Embarcadero bar sipping a hot tea and no doubt wondering why it was taking him so long.
When he got back, she wasn't alone.
He was leaning across the table, back to him, blond hair glowing in the lamplight, shoulders and back straining against a white polo while he propped himself on the tabletop with his hands. A quick look confirmed he was human. Any deeper resonations were stopped by the darting expression in Marie's eyes.
"...Hey, just a drink. I'm trying to be nice here," the man was saying. "Come on, what's the problem with that?" Mortal ears couldn't have picked it up over the holiday din that had spilled to even the outdoors, but Laurence as he approached had no problem.
"I'm waiting for someone." Her voice was small, pinched.
"Just a couple of minutes? " He leaned in further. The only part of Marie that wasn't cringing away was her actual body. "You're too pretty to be a girl who can't have a good time."
That was quite enough. "Please leave her alone."
Marie's eyes shot to Laurence with horrified relief. The guy turned around and looked down at him. Several inches taller, nearly a hundred pounds heavier than him, and full of the swaggering insecurity that bludgeoned other people with that fact the second he saw that he had the physical advantage.
"Hey, man, I was just tryin' to be friendly." True to prediction, he stepped forward into Laurence's personal space, trying to get him to back up. Laurence refused the bluff, and stared at him flatly. A quick hit with Malakite and Elohite resonances told him the lie without even having to go to Seraphic. He even more quickly had to choke down the instinctive surge of his Choir's black rage at what he saw.
"Then why were you keeping after her? She's obviously not interested."
The man moved even further forward, testing limits. Laurence didn't move. "None of your business."
"Actually it is my business. She was waiting for me."
"Uh, sorry, man, I didn't know she was with--"
"No." The Malakite's voice was flat. "Not me. You apologize to her." He cracked the shielding on his Superior presence and hit the other with a fragment of it, a lash from a fencing foil. "Right now." The other's pale eyes widened as at a subconscious level he realized that the minnow facing him was a disguised great white shark heading for him at high speed with its jaws agape. He turned jerkily to Marie, who had watched the exchange with hands folded white-knuckled in her lap.
"I, uh, sorry, I didn't realize you weren't alone. Um. I'll be going now." There was a quarter inch jerk of Marie's chin as her unwanted guest turned awkwardly and pushed away through the crowd, carefully avoiding Laurence's radius. Laurence stared after him, eyes tracking his departure. The muttered "fucking bitch" he overheard caused his left hand to twitch towards a sword and a sword belt that in this day and age did not visibly exist.
Later. He turned towards Marie. "Are you--"
She shot to her feet, almost knocking over her chair. "I have to get out." Normally fair-skinned, she had a sheet for a complexion. "I just... I have to – " He dodged to the side, torn between helping and not as she stumbled, and privately thanked the Almighty the bill had already been settled as he followed her as she blindly hustled through the crowd.
She wasn't running once she hit the street, but it was a near thing. She used Celestial Motion the second she was out of human sight, not even masking the disturbance, and it took his centuries of demon hunting to track the ripples to where she'd gone.
Golden Gate Park. Of course she'd have gone there. It was the single strongest Tether in San Francisco; tuning into it to Swing there would be practically automatic for her. He sighed to himself and followed.
She was under a cypress not far from Stanyan Street and the Haight Street marker, in the darkness away from the streetlights and almost but not quite balled up in a hunch. Laurence privately thanked the Lord some more that she hadn't been intentionally trying to hide because her human nature would have made it difficult to nearly impossible to track and would have involved some uncomfortable exchanges with the Seneschal that he did not want to get back to Novalis. He called her name out loud and was greeted with a pale triangle of face as she looked up sharply and then relaxed when she saw it was him. She was silent as he came up and squatted next to her. Her breath steamed in the chilly, humid December air.
They didn't speak for a long time.
"Exemplar of Choice," she said, the title turning into a curse. "Exemplar of Choice." A glob of spittle hit the dirt. He said nothing. There was nothing he really could say. He could see her shivering fitfully in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. It had a lot in kind with that terrible day back in July on the other hand, and it worried him.
He should get Marc, he realized, really he should. The Archangel of Trade doted on Marie and was better suited for this than Laurence himself was. He should get Marc and let him help her as he and Novalis had back in the wake of that Game-triggered disaster that had nearly shattered Marie completely. It was the optimal solution. At the same time something in him resisted it, pained at the idea of withdrawing. Optimal or not, it felt like betrayal to leave her and to not shoulder the burden.
Well, thank God he was not an Elohite.
"Fucking first-rank Word," she said after another pause, in a monotone. He watched her, silently. She finally continued.
"Fucking first-rank Word, Jean tells me. So damn powerful it takes care of itself." Crack of not-laughter. "Don't need to foster it really, just sort of is there. Fucking Word-bound to Choice and I... Chose... to... freeze!" By the last word her voice had risen to a shriek as she whipped around and punched the bark of the tree behind her, hissing as skin broke against it. She grabbed her right hand with her left, curling up.
He kept his voice as soft and neutral as he could, pushing down his urge to reach out. "Why did you freeze?"
"Because... because." It was a couple of more minutes before she spoke again. "Because. Because I might offend him. Because, donchaknow, we're told to be nice and to not make waves or make a scene and it doesn't matter if we don't want the attention because after all we oughta be thankful we're pretty enough to be gifted with the almighty attention of the almighty damn penis! And God forbid we don't want it, because it might hurt his feelings. And he might do something about that. Something that could hurt me. Or worse." The words spewed out like pus from a lanced infection. "He wanted to, you know. Wanted what he felt was entitled to, and the only thing that kept him from it was that other people were watching. I resonated it, and... and... Things. I'm just a thing to him. Collection of things. Nice legs and an ass and a reasonable pair of tits. And..." Her mouth worked.
Laurence kept his voice careful. "I didn't get that, but I got enough. A little too much." And he was going to be doing something about that soon enough, oh yes he was. This was one evil not allowed to persist and it was yanking at him hard. He had a Choice in it, after all. "I'm truly sorry that I left you alone. I didn't know that was going to happen."
"I... I thought I was past that.. Getting too old to attract that shit." Bitterness stained her words. "Knew I shouldn'ta let Joe cut my hair nice..."
"What... What? Why?" He completely lost the neutral tone to incredulous anger and momentarily hated himself for her flinch. "What is wrong with doing that? Why is the burden on you to wear the sackcloth and ashes? Marie, you're talking about Choosing to freeze under that but it was his Choice to do it and keep doing it for his lust and his selfish power trip. I tell you as a Virtue, Marie, you did nothing wrong there. Nothing. The crime is on him. Not you." He struggled to get his breathing and temper back under control, tightening the leash on both.
It was a couple of more minutes before she said in a tiny voice, "So many things. Second-guessing so many things I could have done better, or differently. Like when Pilar... " she trailed off. "So many things."
"You did the best you knew how to do then. Second-guessing leads to madness. Believe me, I know on that." She nodded mutely, her hands flopping into her lap.
"I'm sorry that..."
"For what? Don't be. I'm glad I know."
"Why? Shouldn't have to."
"And leave a friend alone with it? I think not."
Oh, he realized. That was why he didn't just call for Marc. It... wasn't an unpleasant realization.
"...Friend?"
"I said that, didn’t I?" A thought occurred to him. "Would it be better if I were in a female vessel for these things from now on?"
She blinked for two seconds, going saucer-eyed. "What? No!" She spluttered, backpedaling. "I, I, I, mean, it's an um, er, nice gesture and I appreciate it all, ya, but, but, everything and I know um, uh, technically angels don't have gender and all and er, no celestial junk and stuff and you know, but, but, but, donchaknow, I er, it would be all weird because I see you as a guy and, and, and..." Her lips gaped, fishlike. "Well, I uh, it's not you that's the problem. Or your meat encounter suit. Or... you know… don't, okay? It's fine. You're fine like that. Okay?" She boggled.
He paused and gave her a half-grin, cocking his head. "Well, that's all right, then. My self-perception's been firmly masculine for a very long time and even though I have a couple of them a female vessel does feel a lot like being in drag."
Marie froze a second, then keeled over onto the ground whooping with hysterical laughter.
11
"You said 'meat encounter suit'."
A wad of half-bitten off ramen noodles fell from Marie's stupefied mouth. "...wait, what? That came out of nowhere. " Her companion at least had the decency to look embarrassed and not comment about her bad eating manners.
"Sorry about that. I suddenly remembered something you said from last week."
Marie tensed, remembering. "Don't remind me."
Laurence winced. "My apologies. I hadn't intended that." Weird watching the phantasmal black wings nobody else could see twitch a moment.
"I know, I know. Still kind of on edge though." He frowned to that, getting an edge to his expression that Marie had recently categorized in her mental file as 'retribution pending'. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to know the details on the retribution. It was enough to know that it was pending. "But... thanks for letting me decide the meeting place this time."
"If it helps you feel a little more control over the situation after that? By all means. I just regret not thinking about it before."
"Hindsight, hindsight. And it keeps me away from crappy US Christmas music too. I'm ready to use a flamethrower the next time I hear Mariah Carey." She waved her fork around at the Shibuya District, probably getting looks from the locals. Exemplar of Choice, time spent in non-fork-using parts of the world, and she still stank at using chopsticks. Go her.
She paused.
"What the fuck are you talking about with me saying 'meat encounter suit'?" she burst out. "I'm the one who says weird stuff out of the blue, not you. You’re scaring me."
Laurence rolled his eyes at the profanity. "Your mindset is catching? But you called my corporeal vessel a 'meat encounter suit'."
"Well, it kind of is when you think about it." She could see his eyes light up.
Weirdly enough, this information was perking him up into Enthusiasm Mode. Enthusiasm Mode usually only happened with stuff like Japanese blade lamination techniques or Catholic feast days. Keeping her eyes from glazing over after several minutes of his expounding on it was a fight, even if watching him get fired up about it in the first place was high entertainment because he wasn't acting like Big Angel General then. Oh boy.
"So, quick question," the Archangel asked.
"Yeah?"
"Does that mean you watched Babylon 5?"
12
"You're being rather quiet."
Marie looked up from her mulled wine. "Yeah, suppose I am." She looked at the shoppers outside wading through the snow with a distant expression. "Sorry, not firing on all cylinders right now." She pondered. "Least like you said, we can get away with relaxing a little bit at least."
"Hell knows what will happen. Anything more than the usual crass commercialism?" Laurence smiled tightly. "is going to be met with disproportionate retribution. They know what will happen if they push too far this time of year."
"Mhn." She sipped from her mug. He looked over.
"Is something the matter? Other than what happened a couple of weeks ago, that is."
She opened her mouth, shut it, and closed her eyes for a second. "...Guess there is."
"May I ask? I can't promise to understand, but I can promise to listen. And try to play Elohite."
An amused snort and her closed expression opened a moment. "Isn't that Jean's job?"
"He's not here and I am. I guess you have to settle for me."
"Running an army and now you're picking human brains. Weren't'cha the one reading me the riot act on overextending myself back a few months back?"
"Oh, the first is my job. The second's just sort of a hobby when I have the time." Actually, in context of the War, the second was also part of his job when it came to strategy and understanding human perspectives. It'd only recently become also a hobby for its own sake.
"Oh gawd. Are you and Marath comparing notes?" Well, that was interesting. Apparently she'd kept in contact with the Creationer Malakite since July.
Laurence snickered. "It'd come as a surprise to me. Been going back to Sistine's?"
"Well, free food, so duh, ya, I go by. And then when I'm in the middle of the eggplant parmesan she opens up a can of Jungian whoopass on me. And that's just dirty pool, I tell ya. Getting me when I'm down and chewing." Laurence didn't resist the laugh at that; it was somehow so very appropriate given the Superior Marath served and his Virtues' ability to wage... unconventional combat. Now if he could just try to pin down where on Earth that Archangel was and get out why he wasn't to be found...
"Go for the food, stay for the psychoanalysis?"
"She knows where I live, dammit! Stomachwise." Marie grumbled and took a long pull from her drink. Laurence countered it with a more decorous one from his.
"She's only concerned for your welfare. As am I. Speaking of," he emphasized with a sidelong look, "Spill." She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, then looked subdued. It was a couple of minutes before she spoke again.
"Just... thinking of where I was a year ago."
"Before."
"Before, ya." There was a long pause. "Think I had a string of good days regarding the depression, though the endo was still an asshole. Just as well with my brain, because work was being a bitch, and so were some of the customers. Less than a week to Christmas, and they were thinking failure to plan on their part was an emergency on ours. Good thing Mira didn't tolerate that. Or shitty Christmas music. She played the good stuff when she could. She was saying some people were making her seriously thinking about breaking a few rules and starting drinking. But we all got through it.
"And Christmas Eve after we closed up early, we had ourselves a party. Sandwiches, cider, cookies, the whole thing. Gerry set up some computers and we had ourselves a LAN party, played some games until late that night." Her voice caught. "And following day, Christmas, Mira and I went by Gerry and Mitch's. I brought some store cookies because I can't cook and didn't have the energy to anyway. Mitch can kick ass at a stove though. Mira does a hell of a baklava and cookies when she can be assed to. Ate ourselves stupid that night, played more games, passed around a few cheapo gifts, and Josie learned a few new words her dads didn't want her to when Gerry got his face smeared in PvP and forgot himself. Laughed our asses off. It was great." She shrugged; a feint. It meant I'm going to act like it wasn't a big thing to me even though it was in Marie's body language, or so Laurence had learned. The brightness in her eyes and rapid blinking was betraying her real position.
"And this year is very different."
She gave a humorless laugh. "No shit, Sherlock. Who'da thunk. Broke as hell then and sick as a dog, but at least I was normal broke and sick. Now it's all PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER--"
"--iiiitty bitty living space?" he finished in falsetto. She couldn't contain a giggle.
"Yeah." She looked at the bottom of her cup. "Real little."
Laurence took another sip of his. Really, it was excellent wine. "Go see them."
She whipped her head around and stared at him. "What?"
"Go see them. We can manage the risk and Choice can survive for a day or two. You've had the upheaval to end them all this year, and I can tell you miss them. Do it."
"You sure?"
"If anything dire comes up, you'll know. The birthday of our Lord is supposed to be a time of rejoicing, and Gaudete Sunday's just passed. If you don't agree to go I'll make your life annoying. The most boring parts of the Council minutes. Maybe read you another riot act."
"Oh, the horror," she said in a monotone. She'd brightened up, though. It did him good to see it.
13
"Um. I got you a present."
Laurence blinked. "Wait, what?" Marie started digging around in one of the multitudes of pockets of her tactical pants, hoping that she'd gotten the right one and hoping he didn't notice the three bags of half-eaten trail mix, one Swiss Army Knife, two flints, and one wadded handkerchief that had flopped forlornly out to the ground in the meantime. Fifteen seconds and three muttered curses later, she yanked out a small square box in silver paper. Dammit, her face was probably monkey-butt red again while she shoved it across the table to him.
"Er, yeah, I know it's a few days late. And I didn't know if you did gifts despite being Christian. I mean, my guys did but that's our heathen secularism or something. So it's late but it's not Eastern Orthodox Christmas yet so it's probably all good."
She decided shutting her mouth was probably the better part of valor before she made herself look any stupider than possible, and twiddled her thumbs nervously as he unwrapped and opened the package with the same surgical precision as when he handled chopsticks and blades. Jesus, why don't I just pee on the floor and drool while I'm at it? It's about my mental speed. Laurence blinked once as he finished.
"Oh. I don't think I've ever gotten one of those before. At least not like this."
"Er. Well. I figured everybody probably gave you swords until you were sick of i– okay, not sick of it, but until it got predictable. And you hate paperwork. At least this way you have something to look at instead of it. And if something or someone really annoys you, you can also throw it at 'em."
"No violence. The Pax Dei doesn't allow for it." He smiled though
"Well, think about throwing it at them, then. That's what I've had to do with customers in the past. And... Merry belated Christmas slash weird period of time between then and New Year's Day."
"Thank you, Marie. You didn't have to do this, you know."
"Maybe not, but it felt like I should. Uh... is it okay?" Man, I feel so stupid.
Laurence turned the paperweight over in his hands, the dichroic glass within splintering in the light into a galaxy of purples, blues and bronzes.
"It's okay. More than okay."
14
Marie was frowning as she came over to where he was seated, the crystals in her earrings and piercings spitting light in the darkness. It seemed like one or more of the Creationers in her service had been busy before Christmas; there was more to her new jewelry than met the mortal eye. "It's only been a couple days, Laurence. What's up?"
"I know, but it's important. Good and bad news."
"Bad news first. Let's get it out of the way."
Laurence nodded and laced his fingers between his knees. "Jean strongly advises against traveling anywhere near Wuhan province in China in the near future if you can manage. There's a novel coronavirus that's cropped up there in the past few weeks that has potential to become pandemic." He paused and handed her a sheet of paper, hearing her curse as he did so. "Lightning will transmit you more details, but here's the basics. You're going to want to keep Songs of Healing ready for any Soldiers going in that direction, and do everything you can to minimize transmission risks so nobody becomes a vector themselves. It's respiratory based, quite infectious, and can be lethal."
"Son of a biscuit." She rubbed her forehead, stowing the notes. "Thanks for the heads up. Here's hoping it doesn't go too far."
"Deo volente, but much better to plan ahead."
"Right. Any more?"
"Bad news? That's the most urgent and relevant to you. The rest of the bad news? The typical projectile wonders I deal with on a daily basis deflecting Jedi-style and wish I had an actual lightsaber on the Corporeal for." She made an amused snort.
"Laurence Skywalker, that's an image I wanna see. But the fact you figured that bad news was important above all the other crap? Plenty noteworthy."
He held up a hand. "But. Good news."
"There's good news?"
"Why, there is. Occasionally."
"Yaaaay-- wait what?" She blinked as with a flourish and a grin, he pulled a plate out. He privately wondered what his Servitors would think if they found out their General also occasionally used his Scabbard attunement for... unconventional purposes.
"Like you said last time, it's not Eastern Orthodox Christmas yet. So... Merry Christmas." Her nostrils flared the second he lifted the foil.
"Is that...?"
"Mackinac style. I was thinking pavlova because of where we are, but this is easier to carry around and won't collapse."
"Oh... wow. Thank you. Thank you." She accepted the tray of fudge with hands trembled a bit. He grinned and offered her a bottle of water.
"Now sit down and eat some. I found a good viewing spot and the show's about to start."
"Eh?" She was already nibbling on a piece of fudge. "This's really good. Who made it?"
"Me." The look he got was priceless.
"I...didn't know you cooked."
" I do have hobbies outside of my Word. I don't get to do them nearly enough, but they're there and I had a bit of time. The fact you actually benefit from it is a bonus. Even if this is full of sugar and will rot your teeth and pancreas." Marie mock-scowled dramatically at his grin.
"Wiseass. Rotting 'em with pleasure right now. Mmm, walnuts."
"So I thought. Just a couple of minutes now."
"Hm. What do you mean?" She used her teeth to hold the fudge so she could scroll through her Jeantech wristwatch to get the local time. "'Ast I 'ooked i' 'as... oh." She took out the fudge, surprised. "...Time flies I guess." She shut up and watched the skyline.
In another minute it came to life, as fireworks burst off the Sky Tower and outlined it in multicolored, brilliant fire. Laurence could hear the distant cheers as Auckland, New Zealand began 2020.
"And that was the other good news. Happy New Year."
15
Marie shoved a finger of the face of the General of the Heavenly Host, and watched his eyes cross as he focused on it. "YOU."
"What did I do?"
"Youuuuuuuuu..."
"Honestly, Lady Exemplar, I don't know--"
"Youuuu! You didn't tell me he was that Oscar!"
Laurence blinked. "Oh. So that is your problem?"
"It's not a problem! It really isn't a problem! It's... it's... It's just if I... Months! I spent fricking months not realizing that he was... Aaaaaaggghh!"
Laurence rested his chin in one hand and looked amused. She didn't know if she wanted to punch him or hit herself instead. "Well," he said cheerfully, "if he didn't want to say it himself, far be it from me to out the true identity of our blessed Saints."
"Nrraaarrrggh... I am going to... to... insubordinate you!" She hopped up and down in a frenzy of frustrated rage.
"Oh, go right ahead," the damn Archangel countered, still with that maddening cheerfulness. "You aren't really in the hierarchy so strictly speaking it's not insubordination."
"Rrrrrrraaaaaggghh!"
"And please don't burst a blood vein. It's going to look awkward when I tell the Seraphim Council."
"You! Complete! SMARTASS!" She could just tell that Distinctions were the only thing keeping him from rolling around laughing his black-feathered rump off.
"And that's what my Sergeant Major told me back when. Right before he decked me."
"I'm... Oh my God he had the right idea! I'll fucking break my hand, but oh God I want to!" Her pogosticking gained vigor.
"Seriously, Marie,"Laurence said, losing a bit of levity, "if you chafe under the image that people are already developing of you, how do you think Archbishop Emeritus Romero would feel? He wanted to return to continue the work he died doing, not collect adulation."
Her crazed bouncing stopped and she made a face. "Oh, stop bringing logic into it, gah... I know, I know. I'm mostly just furious at myself for being that slow on the uptake. I should have known better." She blinked back at him. "Uh... How the heck did he get back down here so soon?" She spluttered out a laugh as his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling.
"Forty. Years. Nearly forty years of him petitioning me, every year, to send him back down. In triplicate. Sometimes twice a year. Sometimes monthly. Sometimes weekly. And he didn't let up as time went on. He got worse about it. One'd think that someone like him would enjoy their blessed rest, but you know something? They don't. Ever. It's admirable and it's inspiring and it drives me around the bend more than half the time. It got to the point that – well, look, you came along and the causes you espouse meshed perfectly with what he wanted to do. So it was time for "All right, Oscar, you win. There's somebody that needs your help. Go wild and stop pestering me."" Marie sniggered and nodded.
"And he's been amazing at it. So far the only thing I know is just how much I don't know. Like you said back then, 'delegate' is the Magic Word."
"Heh. It's no different as an angel, knowing how much you don't know. Even as an Archangel. Only what we don't know is different from you don't know."
"Hooray, all this ignorance around." Marie then blinked and paused a moment.
"Hm? What is it?"
She tilted her head at him and cautiously asked, "What about you?"
"About what?"
Her voice got even more hesitant. "Not to hit anything dissonancey... but do you chafe, sometimes?"
She watched, not moving, as the Archangel of the Sword froze, then looked away for a second before meeting her eyes. He paused, licking his lips, looking disconcertingly young and shorn of the trappings of might and power.
"I suppose it would be a lie if I said I never did," he replied softly.
16
Laurence leaned back on his elbows, watching the Milky Way blur above him. He was in that rare and pleasant fuzzy state of mind where he was relaxed and reasonably at peace with the universe; not really three sheets to the wind but half a sheet was still flapping. The rest of him elsewhere was jealous.
Marie rolled past him down the hill cackling to herself. She was having problems with the whole concept of standing up.
"Theeeeeyy'll stooone you whenn you're ridiiiing in your caaarrrrr/ Theeeyyy'llll stooone you when you're plaaaaying your guitaaaaarrr..." By this point she'd gotten far enough past him she'd gone from forte to piano in volume, although her whooping and laughing carried. Somehow even now she was managing to stay halfway on key singing Dylan, who while highly regarded for the brilliance of his lyrics wasn't so much for his tunefulness. She had a lovely voice, insofar as 'singing while tanked' was a good benchmark to judge it by.
Well, it was better than what had been going on earlier.
"So, about the potential novel virus pandemic..." she'd asked, worried.
"Pandemic."
She looked poleaxed.
"Wha--?"
"Lightning has determined it's already a pandemic. Mortal health organizations just haven't realized it yet. The symptoms are still to show up in most of the people in which it's incubating. But pandemic."
"Ohhhh... son of a bitch."
"How widely it spreads from this point depends on how well the governments involved contain it in its initial phases." Laurence saw Marie nod, then stop mid-nod with a look of dawning horror. She sat down and put her head in her hands.
"...You know what my country has got for a government right now? What some others do? We're all fucked." She paused a moment. "It's not even my country anymore. I no longer frickin' legally exist as me. We’re so fucked." She let out a shaky sigh.
"Marie... I'm sorry." He wasn’t sure exactly what for, but it was for a couple of things at least.
"So am I." She looked up. "...screw it. I haven't done it in years but I'm dropping a note to Sirushi, and then I'm going to get white girl wasted by myself."
"No you're not."
She looked up, challenge flaring in her eyes. "Like hell I'm not."
"No you're not." He stood up. "Because I want some of it too."
"Wait, what?"
"Why? Surprised I imbibe? It's sodas I have no use for. Drink in moderation has its points."
"It's pop, and, well actually, I... you know what? Screw it. C'mon, let's go."
So that was how he found himself on a hillside in New Zealand, watching the Exemplar of Choice bounce down it.
Sometimes even he had to stop and smell the roses. Or in this case snort a shot.
17
"I'm bruised. Why am I bruised?"
"You rolled down a patch of gravel and claimed it was an acupressure massage."
"I what?"
"Rolled down a patch of gravel. Saying it was a massage. Ten out of ten Seraphim would agree with me."
"I must have been wasted."
"White girl wasted, even."
"Oh, thanks."
"Then you ate an entire strawberry pavlova and chased it with some rum and claimed it was a mixed drink."
"Okay. That would explain why my mouth tastes like fruit and death."
"For the record, there are no Catholic patron saints of strawberry pavlovas. In case you forgot me answering you on it. Nor does mixing them and rum, either before or after ingestion, make a strawberry daiquiri."
"Damn. Well, s'not like I had much experience with that much booze in the past. Doesn't play nice with meds. Or with guys trying to... Okay, not much booze experience."
"You're remarkably coherent for someone with that level of hangover."
"In case you forgot? Used to have endo to the point I'd puke from the pain. This is a happy axe in the skull by way of comparison."
"You were also hanging on my legs for dear life and wondering in depth if Dylan meant there to be a mathematical formula in the title of "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35", before telling me the Symphony needed a tuba solo, before going into depth on your high school band career. Playing a tuba. And how you used a sousaphone as an assault weapon against a Djinn some months back."
"Crap. I did?"
"Then the entire Home Office gave it a funeral and a Creationer played Sousa's "In Memoriam". For the sousaphone, that is. I would have been annoyed if it had been for the Djinn."
"Shit. Yeah, I did."
"Yes, you did."
"Suppose I should feel humiliated that you saw me like that. But my head is exploding so that distracts me from being humiliated."
"I guess that's one coping strategy."
"Oh, can it. Sir."
18
"I'm going to throttle Michael. I'm going to fail but I thought I should let you know and that Marc has a copy of my will." Laurence would have thought she was joking except for the artificially sweet tone, gritted teeth, and expression of rage.
"What happened?"
"This is the fourth Soldier in my service in two months that jumped ship to War. The fourth. He also poached two angels working for me in that time. Guess what thing they all had in common. Guess."
"Ah." Michael had made no secret of how much he loved both variants of Silent Running. "I don't think I need to."
"Never mind I've been working my way down the list of his eleventy billion Servitors and Soldiers he wants me to give it to. Never mind the number of people in his organization outnumbers mine by so much it isn't funny. Never mind we're dealing with a disease outbreak here on Earthside that'll screw with us doing our job. Never mind it's going to sicken or kill a lot of human beings, and stupid greedy bastards are making life Hell for them already even without demons sticking their fingers in. I guess this isn't that significant against really important plagues like the fucking Black Death. Noooo, he's gotta make sure he sticks it to Baal! Of course I'm the only one that can hand it out or impose it and I'm apparently not doing it fast enough for him so now he's sneaking people away from me. I swear I'm going to macrame him into a plant hanger." She slumped, the anger burning out. "It just seems sometimes like what I want to do here isn't valued, just what I can do for other people’s agendas. Am I just... just meant to churn out Silent Running attunements until the damn end of time?"
He shook his head. "No. No. I don't believe that. I will not believe that." Any more than I've forgotten some of the other things you said when you were blackout drunk. That you said through tears. You are meant for more than that.
And so are the people for whose causes even now you still dance too closely with destruction to try to make happen.
The Most High had given Laurence the burden he now bore. He accepted it humbly and with gratitude, terrifying and unexpected as it was, even though the loss of so many things had come from it. Questioning why he had been given it was beyond his very nature.
But he hadn't been lying to the Lady Exemplar of Choice that sometimes the chains of commanding bit in too tightly. That he always ran the risk of losing his perspective on the reasons for the War and on why he was forging the Sword, as surely as she risked her very human health and sanity trying to make Choice matter.
He was enclosed in those confines. But sometimes, it made all the difference when you had windows to see what was out there, where the birds were flying and the sun shone. And had a friend to courier messages from the outside. And to occasionally sneak out there with them on parole a little bit.
It occurred to him that he was still losing a lot of those couriered messages in translation. He had to fix that.
19
Marie offered Laurence a pint of Ben N' Jerry's. "Didn't know what you liked, so have some chocolate chip cookie dough."
He smiled. "Thanks. And I'm fine with it. Happy birthday, by the way."
She dug into her own pint. "Heh. Thanks for noticing. Thirty-four. 'Midway through my life's journey, I went, "what the fuck?".'"
"No celebration?"
"Already had my night of debauchery a couple weeks ago. And... well, Jean was right. Shit is getting nasty on the ground. And it hasn't even gotten under full steam yet." She shook her head. "We don't have the time to screw around that much." And my birthday isn't something I remember too fondly anyways, given what happened just after it. You're supposed to be bugging your mom and dad for the new toy when you're seven.
Not burying them.
And according to Jean it looks like I'm going to have a whole lot more birthdays than I'd ever thought I'd have to worry about. God. 'Who wants to live forever?' is right.
Laurence sighed, weaponizing his spoon against the oncoming ranks of fat, sugar, and calories. "I know. The Council is already taking action. The one bit of cold comfort I've got is that at least Makatiel isn't a factor this time."
"Ugh." Marie had heard a lot about the late, unlamented Demon Prince of Disease. "No, just plain ol' human stupidity this time. Not that that's much better."
"Makatiel orchestrated the Black Death. Believe me when I say an Infernally coordinated plague is worse."
"I am, I do." Laurence went pensive, looking down into his pint as though it was some kind of dairy augury. Marie swallowed a spoonful of hers. "What's the matter?"
"I'm thinking. Sergeant Major Samuel said it did occasionally happen to me back when."
"Heh."
"I've had something in mind for quite some time, and I seem to be running out of a decent window in which to do it in." Now that was interesting information.
"Can I ask?"
"Not yet. But you'll know. Soon."
20
Marie got up from the table, letting out a deep breath. "So, that it for this time?" She straightened her back with an audible pop. The cardigan she was wearing was exactly the wrong shade of green for her and would probably have had Marc twitching even before he saw that the cardigan also looked like it had been used for a scratching post by a cat with mental issues. But she seemed to be comfortable in it. "I have to grab some masks and crap like sanitizer and TP for my peeps before it all hits the fan."
Laurence nodded. "This time, yes. I've got something on the docket for next time, however." He shoved his own tablet back into Scabbard no-space and stood up himself.
"Next week?"
"No. Earlier than that."
She stopped and looked at him, boggle-eyed. He smiled and shrugged a bit.
"I have something I need to ask you."