Part One is Here

Interlude – The Flower Seller/Luke

Luke screamed and howled and thumped his hands on the desk as though it would make any difference to what had just happened. What was she thinking? He’d done it so beautifully and made it so easy for her. It had even been poetic, the doors opening and closing again, tempting her, then throwing her back.

But instead of walking free, she was dead in the tube tunnel and he was three-four down with the Father arriving tonight. It couldn’t have been engineered better if the entire thing had been planned. He shoved his desk hard enough to slam it against the dry stone wall of his chamber and rose.

It had been planned. It had to have been. He was the best, not just at this, but at anything he put his mind to. He’d been hitting eighty or ninety percent for the last few centuries and now this happened. Even the subjects he’d got right had ended badly. This was planned from beginning to end, so who’d planned it?

The Father? Could be, but why bother? He could do what he wanted without following some pointless charade. Who else could it be? He bore a wry smile as he turned and gazed out over the stars. Who couldn’t it have been? He liked to think it was unlikely to be Az or Seph, but there were no guarantees. He needed to know, though.

He threw himself from the edge and flew out into space. He fell from his chamber, leaving behind the rough stone edge and diving down through the darkness. There were thousands of them, stone huts and wooden houses and shells the size of trucks and all manner of living quarters, floating in space with open backs, and in every one someone like him, or someone like Az, was hard at work.

He caught the thermals and rose, huge wings flapping slowly as they carried him up to a chamber near the top of the Flights. He landed on the edge and held himself there with long wing beats. Seph leaned on the desk, staring fixedly through his window at something only he could see.

Luke knelt down and steadied himself, waiting. He peered over Seph’s shoulder and narrowed his eyes. Sometimes he could see another’s subject, if he tuned in properly. It should be easier with someone he knew.

A picture formed in the space of a desert and a man taking long, lurching steps through the sand. In the seconds that he watched, the man stopped and toppled forward. He raised his head once and dropped it again. Seph leaned back into his chair, hissing through his teeth and thumping the desk.

‘That didn’t look successful.’

Seph jumped and spun round, then raised his hands. ‘Luke, come on in, don’t hang around on the edge. How are you feeling?’

Seph rubbed his head as he asked and Luke smiled. ‘Better. And worse. You?’

‘The same. I felt shocking this morning, utterly shocking. Then I lost the headache but now I’ve lost my bloody subject. By the way, how come you saw it?’

Luke shrugged. ‘You just have to concentrate. Where does that leave you?’

‘Five-two. Not my best but thoroughly satisfactory.’ Luke nodded, trying and failing to look enthusiastic. Seph’s face fell and Luke sighed in relief. He hadn’t planned it. His look of dismay as he realised why Luke was here said it all.

‘You didn’t make it.’

It wasn’t a question but Luke answered anyway. ‘I lost her. I did it all right and she didn’t get on the train, then she ran into the sodding tunnel to rescue someone. She was bloody disabled, what was she thinking?’

Seph’s face dropped even further. ‘Shit, sorry. That’s bad timing.’

‘You think?’ Luke put his wings away and slumped into the other chair, leaning back until the front two legs came off the floor. ‘I’ve been set up. This is all deliberate.’

Seph looked shocked for all of two seconds before he nodded. ‘That’s entirely possible, but who did it?’

‘Take your pick.’ Luke waved a hand toward the thousands of chambers hanging below them. ‘Most of them have a reason, if they want one.’

Seph nodded. ‘I hate to say this, but I’m not sure it matters overmuch. And I’m not sure we’ll have time to find out who. The Father will be here in…’ he checked his watch, ‘a couple of hours. You might do better putting your affairs in order.’

‘Affairs? What affairs? I don’t have any affairs. He’s allowed me precisely nothing in the entire time I’ve been here.’

‘Maybe you should say goodbye to Sara then.’ The smile on his face meant he knew what had happened last night.

‘How the hell did you find out about that?’

Seph grinned and tapped the side of his nose. ‘A gentleman never gives away his sources.’

‘Yeah, well, thanks for the pep talk. If I’m gone by tomorrow, I want you to find out who was behind this.’

‘Haven’t you considered that it might just be the Father? He would be quite happy to have an excuse to be rid of you.’

‘Why would he go through all this though? Why not just banish me?’

‘You have supporters. Not many, I’ll admit, but there are a few rather powerful beings who think you’ve more than paid your dues. Screwing you over now without just cause would not sit well with them.’

Luke wrinkled his nose. ‘The Father does what he wants and bollocks to anyone who argues.’

‘Maybe, maybe. I’m not so sure.’

Luke shifted in his chair. ‘Gotta go.’

‘Hey, make sure you say goodbye.’

‘I’m so glad you’re already that sure I’m being sent away.’

Seph shrugged and smiled sympathetically. It was the last thing Luke saw as he threw himself out into space. From up here the Dome looked tiny, a spot surrounded by the specks of the chambers. Perhaps if he went straight down there, he’d have time to visit Sara before the Father arrived.

He shook his head and leaned into the updraft, heading across the vast space toward another of the chambers. This was considerably lower than his own and took a few minutes to get to. He landed on the edge and wandered in. The demon chambers were quite different from theirs and he felt his usual pang of jealousy as he wandered into Az’s home.

Where his chamber was wide open, Az’s ended in a small opening. He paced down the narrow tunnel that lay beyond it, running his fingers along the cold stones. It felt like home. Beyond it lay a room, similar in size to his own. A fire burned at one end, huddled within a sunken pit. The window was on one wall and was dark.

Az lounged on his bed, book open before him.

‘Didn’t know you could read.’

‘Don’t remember inviting you in. How’d it go?’

Luke shook his head and sat in the big swivel chair before the window. It was black plastic and leather and completely out of place. And very comfortable. Az shook his head, pursing his lips. ‘Sorry man, that sucks. What now?’

‘Well, that’s what I’m trying to decide. Someone set me up—’

‘You sure?’

‘It wouldn’t have happened otherwise. And look when it’s happened. What are the chances?’

‘Fair enough. So who was it?’

‘That’s what I want to know. Seph thinks I haven’t got time, thinks I should spend my few remaining hours with Sara.’

‘That’s an excellent idea. Good work there, by the way, very smooth.’ Az raised an eyebrow, broad grin splitting his blood-red features. ‘Gotta say, it would seriously bum me out not knowing who stitched me up.’

‘Right, exactly. So where do I start?’

Az smiled again. ‘With your friends.’

Their eyes met and Luke folded his arms, keeping his face impassive. Finally Az looked at the floor then back up at him. ‘Fine, it was me. I’ve been jealous of your gorgeous hair for so long, my anger got the better of me. Can you forgive me?’

Luke watched him for a moment longer before letting out a long breath. ‘Hey, can you blame me?’

‘Not at all. I’m a demon, it’s what I’m supposed to do. But seriously, me and Seph… well actually, I wouldn’t trust Seph one little bit, dodgy bastard.’

He grinned and Luke let his arms drop to the chair where his fingers drummed on the plastic rests. Az raised his chin. ‘Who’ve you pissed off recently?’

‘The question is, who have I pissed off who knew the Father was coming to visit?’

Az sat forward, eyes widening. ‘Yeah, bloody hell, that’s right. That narrows it down a bit.’ He sat back, frowning. ‘Unfortunately, it narrows it down to big players, people I don’t wanna be anywhere near.’

‘And I do?’

‘C’mon Luke, don’t go all coy on me. You’ve got the moves for anyone in the Dome.’

Luke shrugged, examining his nails. ‘I can’t get anyone riled up though, not now. If there’s any chance he’s gonna let me off—’

He was stopped by Az snorting loudly and bursting out laughing. ‘He’s got your number, Luke, don’t even hope otherwise. This is the perfect opportunity.’

Luke ran through the list in his head. There were the Three, but they rarely got involved in anything and the one time he met them, he’d got the feeling they were more on his side than the Father’s. There were a couple of high level demons who still hated him for taking over back home. Bast wouldn’t be averse to taking a swipe, but she’d want him to know it was her.

The truth was, there were too many, even with the knowledge of the Father’s movements thrown in the mix. And the big man wasn’t particularly secret about what he was doing either. Luke stood, kissing his teeth as he stumped to the fire and held his hands out. He didn’t have a bloody clue where to start.

The silence deepened and they both jumped when the bell sounded. ‘Shit, dammit.’

‘Time’s up, man, let’s get down there and get good seats.’

Az bounded past him, scooping up his axe as he went and throwing it over his shoulder. The strap slapped against his skin as it snapped taut.

‘Do you need that?’

Az smiled. ‘You never know. But it’s a ceremonial thing. It’s more for the other demons than you lot.’

Luke followed him out and they jumped one by one into the darkness. Luke’s wings split apart and he slowed his descent. By contrast, Az plummeted, hurtling toward the Dome. His voice drifted up.

‘Hurry up, you’re gonna miss the best seats.’

Luke looked around and realised what he was talking about. The darkness was filled with beings, winged and not, some with skin as pale as snow and others darker than the night sky. The giants were floating down in their shells, disks larger than his entire chamber, while the faeries floated like fireflies, tiny spots of light that flickered and spun.

Luke’s own kind filled the space above, smooth skin and white feathers blocking out the darkness that hung above the Flights. Down here, the demons were responding with as much alacrity, red and mottled brown skin making a carpet into which he flew.

The chambers were emptying and it was a sight he’d not seen since before the Father’s previous visit. It felt different now though. This time it felt like the first time, when he’d been cast down. Back then, the Flights had been emptying for a very different reason. Now all bowed before the Father, all just as fearful as he was. Well, perhaps not quite as fearful.

He pulled in his wings and put his head down and soared until his face was pulled this way and that by the wind. He cut through the shield of falling demons and reached one of the entrances to the Dome before the rush. Az waited, leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. Luke raised an eyebrow at him and they dashed through to the grand hall.

Good seats meant those near the back and they joined the rapidly-filling back row. His hands were thumping on his legs, feet tapping on the floor and Az put his hand on his shoulder.

‘Relax man, you gotta relax. What will be, will be, you’re driving me crazy.’

‘Easy for you to say.’

‘Well, actually, it is. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.’

Luke sniffed and rested his elbows on his legs, cupping his chin between his hands. The room filled up. Seph came in halfway through and waded through the crowds to take the seat Az had saved beside him. The chatter that had filled the bar the previous night was ten times louder in here.

It was remarkable really. They spent their days among men, the mere mortals of whom they spoke with such longing and contempt. They were hyper-aware, every one of them, of the foibles and failings of their subjects. Yet put a bunch of them in a room and give them something to gossip about and still they acted just like humans.

Luke sat back, breath getting short. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t just sit here and wait to get shafted. Then another bell sounded and he knew it was too late.

The hall hushed, people scurrying to their seats as the lights dimmed. The lectern at the front was illuminated in a spotlight and the Father walked out. He wore, as he always did, a loincloth that barely covered his privates. His sunburned skin was covered in whirling tattoos and bore the marks of many bites. He carried his staff, a piece of wood that made a sharp retort with every step he made.

He stood behind the lectern and cast his gaze out. Luke knew he was looking for him and wasn’t surprised in the least when their eyes met. Then the Father nodded and smiled and rocked back on his heels.

‘My people. It is with great pleasure that I come here today not with warnings or checks. I don’t come to deal with those among you who have failed in your work. My trip here is one of joy. I come today with the news that one among you has been chosen to do something quite remarkable.’

Luke exchanged a glance with Az, who raised an eyebrow and looked doubtful.

‘He is known to many of you as the great betrayer. That was true, many years ago. But for many the last millenia and beyond, he has served us faithfully and well. It is this change in him, this remarkable willingness to change and become a better person, that has led me to this momentous decision.’

Luke put his head in his hands. The question was, what ‘honour’ was it? If it was really an honour, he’d eat everything he wore, pants and all.

‘Luke, please, come down here.’

Every face turned to stare as he stood and took the walk of death to the gallows. Half way down he glanced to the side and saw Sara. She gave him a smile, but it was weak and carried none of the warmth of last night. His mind started up. Was she involved in this?

He reached the lectern and the Father opened his arms, welcoming him up to stand beside him. He spoke in muttered tones. ‘Hey Luci, long time. Are you ready for this?’

‘What are you going to do to me, you bastard?’

‘Nothing you don’t deserve. Remember, it’s a great honour.’

‘Why did you go through all the bullshit last week if you were gonna make it a big honour?’

The Father cleared his throat and spoke to the hall. ‘Luke’s efforts in his work have been, of late, a little underwhelming. This week in particular he failed to meet his target. This was the final piece in the puzzle for me in deciding who should be given the most important task that now lies before him.’

So it was a task now. Not an honour anymore, oh no. Now he had to do stuff. The Father’s face turned serious.

‘The world is in trouble. Not long from now, a man called Jason will infect it with a disease so virulent and so terrible that ninety percent of the population will be wiped out in a matter of days. I am forbidden to become involved directly in the matters of men and you can only work in certain ways, those prescribed by the ancients. Only one who is human himself can change the world.’

The Father turned to Luke and slapped him on the arm. ‘Luke will become human.’

All the eyes that stared at him ceased to matter as those four words carved their way into his soul.

End of Part One. Part Two will begin on Thursday 7th August

Part One is Here

Sunday – Taylor Part Two

The busker blinked his tears away and stared at the mouthpiece of his saxophone, as if only just realising he’d stopped playing. He bent slowly at the knees, picked up the rose, tucked it behind his ear and resumed his meandering, tunefully-challenged stylings.

Taylor listened for a moment before turning away and limping toward the tube. She heard the rush of wind and picked up her pace. She arrived on the platform just as the doors hissed shut and she thumped it with her hand. The train jerked forward and then stopped. The doors half-opened and she stepped forward only for them to close again.

With a glare at the mirrors at the end of the platform, she sat on the bench and watched the tube hustle into the tunnel. The screeching of the wheels on the track made her head ache all over again and she moaned. What the hell was she doing? She should be at home by now, lying in bed, or maybe watching crap daytime T—

BOOOOOMMM!

It sounded like an effect from a disaster movie, like the Transformers had just blown something up. She was half out of her seat when a wave of heat and smoke exploded from the tunnel and swept over her. With it came screaming, high-pitched and desperate.

She flew back onto the seat, bounced off it and hit the floor. The roses flew from her hand, the plastic splitting open so they scattered across the platform. Her hips were complaining with a dull ache she hadn’t felt in a long time. There were screams from the platform, people shouting ‘bomb’ and ‘help’ and other useful things.

She pushed herself to her hands and knees, trying to see through the smoke. A train came in on the other platform and the wind whisked the wind about, pulling at her clothes as her vision grew suddenly better. She crawled to the edge of the platform and stared down into the tunnel.

There were flames and more smoke, but the only light came from the fire and it painted a scene of utter destruction. It had to be a bomb. It didn’t matter. She turned herself around and slid off the platform until her feet touched the floor. She had to be careful not to touch one of the rails. Which one was it? She would avoid all three, that was the best option.

The smoke was thick in here and she pulled her t-shirt up over her mouth. Her eyes watered and she blinked it away. There were voices ahead, people crying and screaming. She put her hand on something hot and yanked it back, howling as her skin was seared.

She scrubbed her eyes, trying to see through the gloom. The bomb had been at this end of the train; it was destroyed, ripped apart. She saw something white peeking through the smoke and her gorge rose up. She slewed to the side and threw up as she recognised bone poking free from the charred flesh.

She had to help someone, but what the hell was she supposed to do? She pulled her jacket sleeves down over her hands and tried to pull wreckage out of the way. The second piece of metal she hauled on was still attached and accompanied by a creaking sound that made her jump back.

Too late she looked up and saw the ton of tube train roof as it came down. It caught her on the head and drove her to her knees, then slammed into her back. Her last thought, as her face was driven into the sharp edges of the tube, was of the busker and the rose she’d stopped to give to him.

Next Installment Monday 4th August

Part One is Here

Sunday – Taylor Part One

Her head hurt. No, hurt wasn’t the right word. Hurt was when you cut your finger, or grazed your knee. Her head… imagine a car striking you dead in the hip, so your upper body went one way and your lower body the other and every bone was wrenched and torn. She knew how that felt, because it happened a few years ago. She remembered the pain like it was yesterday. This was worse than that.

She leaned her head over the edge of the bed and made coughing motions until bile filled her mouth. She fell to the floor and staggered out the room. Her hand went to the bathroom door and she realised it wasn’t there. In fact, the walls had changed colour and the carpet was different. Her mouth filled with sick and she turned first one way, then the other, then dumped it onto the carpet.

A face appeared from another room and stared at her. It was a face she vaguely recognised, though she couldn’t say where from. It spoke. ‘Oh man, did you have to?’ Then it vanished. She staggered back into the room from which she’d come and looked at the bed. It wasn’t her bed.

It finally dawned on her that she wasn’t at home. The sun rose a second time when she looked at the bed and saw a man she didn’t recognise. She shifted from foot to foot and wriggled. And they’d had sex. She took two steps and dropped to her knees, hands holding her head. Where was she? And why was her head about to fall off?

She dug about for her clothes, crawling around on all fours. After a few, head-pounding minutes, she pulled on her jeans and t-shirt, found her jacket and staggered out into the hallway.

The stairs proved tricky but she got down them without dying, which was enough of a triumph to punch the air. She winced as the movement made her gorge rise. She wrestled with the front door, a battle it spent a good five minutes winning, before wrenching it open and stepping out into bright sunlight.

She was on a street, entirely unfamiliar and as similar as a million other streets across London. It was early enough that the sun still hid behind the houses opposite, a beam like a ray from the heavens cutting between them to blind her. Luckily, early morning meant commuters, so she followed the guys in suits and found herself at Finchley Road Tube.

How the hell had she got here? She couldn’t remember anything about last night. Well, she remembered getting ready and getting on the tube. She remembered finding a club that was open early. She remembered Monique having to go early. She’d said it was fine because she was with… what was his name?

Whoever it was, he was asleep in the house she’d just left behind and if she was lucky, she’d never see him again. What had she been thinking? She was gonna kill Monique. Or maybe just not tell her anything. She groaned at the uncomfortable patch between her legs. She just needed to get home and showered and go to bed. Maybe when she woke up again, her head would have returned from the lowest circle of hell and work properly.

She got the usual glances as she limped through the tube station. The accident had left her with two legs, but a hip that would never work properly again. As her sporting exploits up to that point ran to dashing for the bus and pub crawls, it wasn’t the end of the world. The physios never failed to be impressed by her progress, but she still looked a bit awkward when she walked.

The tube was packed and it was four stations in before she realised she was going the wrong way. She groaned and tried to get off at the next station, but her hip chose that moment to seize up and she flailed about in her seat until the doors closed.

She rose early for the next one and stepped out at Westminster. The thought of being on the tube any longer made her stomach flip. She kept almost being sick and having to swallow it, which was the grossest thing possible. Better to have the Thames to spit it into.

She strolled down the river, every footstep ringing with the thudding in her head. She bought a coffee and sat on a bench, staring blearily at the world. As the pounding slowed, she clambered up and kept walking. She passed Embankment station and paused, her eye caught by the most incredible flowers.

There was a tiny stall, just a table really, bearing more flowers than should have been possible. There were blues and red and violets and pinks and orange and white and all the other colours still threatening to come spewing from her mouth. They were peaceful though and as she drew nearer, the smell settled her stomach and calmed her head.

The flower seller watched her with unusual eyes. As they met hers, they closed and she realised he was swaying on his feet. Her first grin of the day made inroads into her lips and she raised a hand.

‘Hi.’

‘Hello, young lady, how…’ He cut off, stifling a yawn and rubbing his head. ‘Apologies, truly. How are you today?’

‘You know how you feel? Like that, only fifty times worse.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘C’mon, what were you drinking last night?’

He blushed and tried to hide behind some chrysanthemums. She chuckled and winced and stopped. ‘Hey, it’s okay. Tell me, did you wake up in someone else’s bed?’

His blush grew deeper and her laugh came from her belly, filling the air and making her headache sit up and start banging. ‘Was she pretty? Or he, sorry, no offence.’

‘She is exquisite. She’s a goddess with hair like the night and eyes in which even the truest of men lose themselves.’

‘Wow. Impressive. Mine was a munter. Actually, that’s not true. I don’t really remember, but I think he was a bit of a dick.’

‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’

It was her turn to blush and she nodded. ‘Touche. Your flowers are very beautiful.’

‘Thank you. I do believe you should buy something from me. I have it on good faith that you might want some today.’

‘Do you now. And who told you that?’

‘Oh, the wind and the stars. The sound that comes just before daybreak, the sigh the moon makes as she sinks below the horizon.’

‘Lots of people talking about me.’

‘You’d be amazed.’

They grinned at one another and she stuck her face in first one bunch of flowers and then another. They all had their own smells and every one was as lovely as the last. As she breathed them in, her headache faded until it was a dull throb at the base of her skull. She took a step back and looked at him.

‘Why were you drinking?’

‘Big thing at work, lots of stress.’

‘What’s stressful about selling flowers?’

‘I have to meet my quota. The boss is pretty hard on us.’

‘Wow. I didn’t realise it was such a high-pressure job.’

‘Not many people do. Can I tempt you to some roses?’

‘Yes you may.’

He wrapped them with a grace she hadn’t expected after seeing the puffer jacket and the bloodshot eyes. He handed them over and she dug for her wallet.

‘No charge. Really.’

‘How does that fit in with meeting your quota?’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes, the quota just doesn’t matter. It was nice talking to you.’

‘You too.’

She strolled slowly away. He shouted after her. ‘Hang on a minute.’

She turned and watched him jog slowly across the pavement, wincing with every step. He stopped before her, huffing and puffing.

‘Sorry, forgot to mention. I put a thirteenth in there. If you wanted to give it to someone, it might be nice.’

She nodded, tucking her nose inside the nearest and taking a deep breath. ‘Yeah, that’s a nice idea. Thanks again.’

He sketched a mock bow which she returned with a curtsey and watched him head back off to his stall. Strange man. Nice roses though. Her head still hurt, but was considerably better than she had any right to feel. She looked down into the roses. They were the colour of romance, if such a thing had a colour.

Taylor snorted and shook her head. And she knew all about romance of course. Last night had been all about the romance. She sniffed and headed for the tube. Now she could go home. She walked through the barrier at Embankment and down the escalator. She reached the bottom and hesitated.

She should go home. She needed a shower so bad. But something, some urge compelled her and she headed down the opposite tunnel. Maybe she’d head to the East end, take a wander around Mile End, relive some old memories.

She wandered down the tunnel, wincing as the sound of a badly-played saxophone grew steadily stronger. The guy playing it appeared like a bad cliche at the end of the tunnel. He wore a brown suit and flat cap and was a hundred if he was five. She got the feeling he’d once been very good, but his timing was shot so all the notes bled into one another and made this soupy sort of mess.

He tipped her a nod as she passed, the melody slipping and she gave him a smile. She walked past and paused, glancing back. With a shrug, she pulled a rose free of the bunch and placed it carefully into the soft guitar case he was using to collect money. He looked down at it and the sax slipped from his mouth. When their eyes met, she flinched to see tears collecting in his.

Next Installment Thursday 31st July

Part One is Here

Interlude – The Flower Seller Part Two

‘Who’s going to disappear then?’

His friends looked at him and he shivered. He was rare because he’d been disappeared before. But the father wouldn’t send him back there, not so soon after releasing him. So where would he go? And it would be him, no doubt about that. Seph leaned forward, grinning. ‘Weekly total probably doesn’t seem so important now, huh?’

‘You’re supposed to be my friend. Where’s the sympathy?’

Seph chuckled and shook his head. ‘I have plenty of sympathy, I just find it funny. After everything you’ve been through, it comes down to one stupid bastard human screwing everything up for you. Typical really.’

‘I could just kill him. And her. The baby would never be born and—’

‘Don’t. Don’t even think it. They can pick up on that, you know.’ Seph nodded toward the row of heads that lined one of the red velvet walls. A set of jars, twelve in total, each bearing a head. Every head possessed a wild mane of hair that floated in the liquid encased within the jar. Every head also contained a pair of eyes that never stopped moving, flicking this way and that around the room.

‘What am I supposed to do then?’

Seph shrugged. ‘Right now? Get drunk. Tomorrow? Make sure the week ends at three-four. You’ve got more of an argument then.’

Luke took a long breath and let it out his nose. He drained his cup again and slammed it down. ‘Bollocks to that. I’m finding Sara, I need to know.’

‘She won’t tell you, not till tomorrow.’

Luke ignored him, rising from the bench. The roomed swayed as he lurched upright and he grabbed the table. Az chuckled. ‘Take it easy, little man, this stuff’s strong.’

Luke gave them both a curt nod and made his way across the room, considerably slower than on the way in. He finally escaped the crush and gasped in a breath of moderately cool air. The room still spun and he leaned against the door frame. More people were still coming in, everyone talking about the same thing.

Herc ambled over and grinned down at him. ‘Looking worse for wear there, Luke. Will you be alright get—’

‘You ever seen it so busy?’

Herc cast his gaze across the room, unfazed by the interruption. He nodded thoughtfully. ‘A few times. Normally when the father is coming. Everyone gets scared and when people are scared they find other people, it’s the way of the world.’

‘This isn’t the world.’

‘As above, so below, my friend.’

Luke snorted and staggered away down the corridor. Sara would be working. She never stopped, which was a shame because he’d love to see her in a less formal setting. He found the right corridor from the myriad spokes that led from the central hall.

There was a stage already set up, lectern in place. Luke snorted again. He pictured himself up there and shuddered. He turned his back and headed down the long corridor. The walls were a pleasant change from the rough brick of his chamber, shining white marble lined with huge columns.

He sniggered as the columns blurred and doubled and tripled. He paused, taking deep breaths. The whole place reeked of superiority and arrogance and despite being here for centuries, it still felt nothing like home. He reached her door and paused again, swaying side to side. What had they been drinking?

Sara’s door was like her, beautifully carved and ornate, and just a little bit alien. He knocked and the sound went straight through his skull. He winced, scrunching up his face. He must have looked bad because Sara giggled when she opened the door.

It may have been the drink, but she was looking even more lovely than usual. Her dark skin glowed and her almond-shaped eyes smiled along with her full wide mouth. There was something about her that made the noise stop and the worry slip away. All he had to do was look at her and he felt something close to peaceful.

She wore her normal red and purple formal dress, pinned high on one side of her chest. It cut across her legs just above her knees, at just the right height to set his curiosity aflame without giving anything away. She never gave anything away. He realised as she stepped back and invited him in, that coming here was a waste of time. Still, it was worth it to watch her hips sway as she returned to her desk.

He wanted to ask why she got a chamber here, warm and safe, while he and the others had theirs above. But who would he ask? Maybe when the father visited, he could ask him. Perhaps he’d take questions after the speech. He grinned and Sara raised one, perfect eyebrow.

‘Perhaps you could enlighten me as to what you find funny?’

Even her voice, softly Indian but speaking in perfect English. He shuddered and tried to adjust his trousers without being too obvious. ‘Nothing, really, just thinking about the father’s visit.’

Her face changed, the formality dropping for a second as she leaned forward. ‘Do you know why he’s coming?’

Luke chuckled. Everyone thought he had some line to the father, as though the two of them still talked. They hadn’t spoken since he returned to work, but he kept that quiet. You never knew what you could pick up when people wanted something from you.

‘Not a clue. He never tells me anything.’ He said it with just enough of a smile to make it clear he was lying. It was easy to do, it was all anyone ever expected of him. If only they knew… ‘But perhaps you can tell me something. And then perhaps if I find something out, I can let you know.’

She nodded eagerly and he leaned casually against the wall. The wall which was, unfortunately, a little further away than he thought. Once he’d got his balance back and cleared his throat plenty of times and dragged his eyes from her gorgeous smile, he spoke. ‘My subject today. Have you done the numbers yet?’

She shook her head, long dark hair flicking about. ‘You know I can’t tell you that, Luke.’

‘That’s a shame. Well, I’ll be off then.’

‘What, is that it? You’re going, just like that?’

‘You’d like me to stay?’

She traced her finger down the arm of her chair, looking at him through long eyelashes. ‘Maybe for just a little while. It’s so boring here, all on my own.’

He took a step across the room toward her, his breath catching in his chest. She was toying with him, he knew it, but it made no difference. ‘I could stay, I suppose. But it’s difficult.’

Luke pulled a chair over from the wall and plonked himself down. She leaned closer still and he caught her scent. It was jasmine and something else that made the hair on his arms stand up. ‘You see, without knowing where I am with my weekly total, I can’t relax, I can’t really do anything properly.’

Sara let out an exaggerated sigh and turned back to her desk. ‘I cannot tell you the results of today’s work. However…’ She swept her hair off her neck, showing him the smooth soft skin that ran into her dress. ‘I could, I suppose, tell you where you are for the week. That isn’t strictly forbidden.’

His heart leapt into his mouth and he nodded vigorously before he caught himself. When she turned back, he was slouching in his chair, arms folded casually and a look of what he hoped was mild interest on his face. In truth, he looked a little like he was about to topple off the chair, but it worked, because she gave him another smile and nodded.

‘You are at three on either side. Tomorrow will decide. You haven’t been this close for a long while. Have you had difficult subjects?’

He nodded and let out a long breath. ‘Unbelievable. People I had no chance of saving. Bloody ridiculous.’

‘Well, it seems fitting that your decision day is tomorrow, when the father will be here in the evening. Perhaps he already knows the result.’

Her smile was faintly mocking. She changed so suddenly and the warm glow he’d been working on fled at the thought. ‘He can’t know the result. Free will, remember?’

‘But how true is that ever? You are supposed to be an agent of free will, yet you spend your days…’ she glanced down at her desk, ‘stranding people in fictional worlds and unleashing hordes of ghosts on them.’

She had an excellent point. But if free will was an illusion, why was he bothering at all? That took him back to the questions that had been plaguing him for the last few months. Why did he bother? He’d paid his dues and done what he agreed. He could have left years ago, so why was he still here, still working?

He flushed, the buzz left over from the booze beginning to fade. He knew the answer. How else could he visit Earth every day, if not by working there. He cocked his head to one side, eyes fixed on the tiny dimples that formed where Sara’s lips ended.

‘How do you do it?’

‘Do what?’

‘How do you work here, all day every day, when you never get to go to Earth?’

‘Why would I want to go to Earth?’

He opened his mouth and closed it again. She’d never been there. She’d never tasted the thousands of emotions and beliefs and values that filled the air like perfume. She had no idea what she was missing. There was no way to explain it. It was like describing the wind, or a colour and just as meaningless. He shook his head, lurching up from his chair.

‘I’d better go. Big day tomorrow.’

She pouted and made a mock sad face. He risked putting his hand on her cheek, but she leaned into it and her eyes closed for a moment.

‘You really don’t have to go.’

She was telling the truth. He could stay as long as he wanted. How had he not noticed before? He sat again and leaned forward until their faces were almost touching.

‘Shouldn’t you be working?’

‘I can work while you sleep. It’s time for my break.’

She stood and walked past her desk to a plain wall. It opened as she approached and the rest of her chamber came into view. The bed was huge and carved just as the door. She lived as befitted a minor goddess and moved like one as well. He shifted in his seat and when she turned and beckoned, he was off it like he was running a race.

Next Installment Monday 28th July