"You should ask Kari out on a date," Phoenix said.
Jayesh gave his ghost a horrified look. "You're kidding. Right? Say you're kidding."
It was a quiet night in the Tower. Jayesh, a young warlock nearing the end of his first year as a Guardian, had been idly clicking through websites at his desk computer, clad in second-hand canvas pants that had once belonged to a hunter, and the loose woven shirt his ghost had resurrected him in.
The single expensive object in the tiny dorm room was the shell his ghost wore - fiery red and yellow. The little robot floated beside him, looking somehow mischievous for only having a single eye.
"I'm totally serious," Phoenix said. "She really likes you. I know you like her."
"Let me spell this out for you," Jayesh said, spinning his swivel chair to face his ghost. "She's been a Guardian for seventy years. She's been married before. She's my senior in the fireteam, for the Traveler's sake. We're friends, Phoenix. Let's keep it that way."
Jayesh faced his computer again, resuming the article he had been reading about the dire condition of the Last City's medical supplies.
"Neko thinks so," Phoenix said.
Jayesh flopped back in his chair and dug his hands into his thick brown hair. "Her ghost is in on this, too? What is this, a conspiracy?"
"She was barely married five years, Jay," Phoenix said. "Her husband and his ghost were killed by the Hive. She's been alone ever since, and Neko tells me how lonely she is. Friendship with your ghost can only go so far, you know?"
Jayesh twirled Phoenix's segments, spinning them like fan blades around his core. "Yeah, because ghosts are pests, not people."
"Stop that," Phoenix said, halting his segments and adjusting them. "And don't give me that. We're people - we're just not human."
"Look, Phoenix," Jayesh said. "I've got bigger problems than dating Kari right now. The whole city is going into strict food rationing. The Red War destroyed sixty percent of our resources. Thousands of people still don't have a place to live. They're staying in shelters, most of them without walls. And, Phoenix, it's snowing out there."
He pointed at his computer screen. Phoenix studied it soberly. After a while, the little robot said, "What can we do? You're a combat Guardian. It's not like we could go out and build houses for people."
Jayesh flicked through article after alarming article. "I don't know, yet. I'm only one man. But I want to do something. Maybe Ikora would have an idea."
He opened his email and wrote his commander a message, explaining about the City's troubles and asking how he could help. He pressed Send, and sat there, gazing at his screen in silence.
Pheonix made a sound like a sigh. "Why do you want to help people so badly? I can feel how much this means to you."
"Guardians aren't supposed to remember their past lives," Jayesh said, gazing at his desk. "But when those cultists knocked me out and captured me, I had a dream. From when I was ... just human. My brother had back-stabbed his way into leadership of our village, and he was about to execute me for standing up to him. But he was being pressured into it by ... I think the priests? It's fuzzy. Anyway, what I remember is the hopelessness of standing barefoot in the snow, waiting to die. And those people in the City, Phoenix. They're human. They're all that's left of my people. How many of them will die this winter if I don't do something?"
Phoenix considered this for a long moment. "Jay, you have the true heart of a Guardian."
Jayesh smiled a little. "Am I the best Guardian?"
"Of course you are."
"Don't all ghosts think that about their Guardians?"
"All of us are right," Phoenix said. He flew up and ruffled Jayesh's hair by spinning his shell. Jayesh laughed and snatched at him, but Phoenix phased from between his fingers in a swirl of blue particles.
"And you should ask Kari out," he added in Jayesh's head.
"It'll make things weird between us, Phoenix," Jayesh said. "I want us to just be friends. Besides, it'll mess up the chain of command and everything."
"Suit yourself," Phoenix sniffed. "But don't be surprised if she asks you."
"Only because you and Neko put her up to it," Jayesh said acidly. "I'll bet you're telling Neko that I'm proclaiming my undying love right now."
Phoenix whistled innocently.
Jayesh drew a breath to argue further, but his computer chimed as a new message arrived. He swiveled to read it, back to business. His ghost reappeared and read over his shoulder.
Ikora had replied.
Dear Jayesh,
You're not the first one in the Vanguard to express concern for our people this winter. While the Consensus is deliberating about how best to stretch our resources, I've been working in a small way to alleviate some of the coming suffering. There is a medical clinic a few blocks from the old Tower. I assign a warlock healing duty there once a week. If you like, you may take that assignment this week, starting tomorrow. Brush up on your healing rift skill.
Jayesh sent back his acceptance, then stood and paced around his tiny room. "Healing sick people! What a great idea. Phoenix, how long can I cast a healing rift?"
"You've never used it out of battle, so I don't know," Phoenix replied. "In fights, your focus is split, so you can only maintain it a minute at most."
"Well, let's try." Jayesh summoned the Light granted to all Guardians and waved his hand at the floor. The floor boards lit with a living blue shimmer, like water. The healing power lapped Jayesh, refreshing him.
He concentrated, holding the rift in place. "Really, it's not that hard," he told Phoenix. "It only takes a fraction of my brain. I guess that's why warlocks can use them in battle."
"See how long you can maintain it, then," Phoenix said. "If you're healing very sick people, the Light may take longer to work. Plus, they're not Guardians."
Jayesh easily held the rift in place for six minutes, and with more concentration, ten minutes more.
"I could probably go twenty or thirty minutes, if I practiced," Jayesh said cheerfully. "That'd be enough to heal most ailments, right?"
"Maybe," Phoenix said doubtfully. "When your whole team is hanging out in the rift, it heals a tad slower. If you cram a bigger crowd in, I think the slowdown will be dramatic."
"We won't know until we try," Jayesh said.
The medical clinic had been damaged during the Red War. One wing had been reduced to a mound of broken concrete and framing, blocked off from the street by a barricade of salvaged boards.
The rest of the clinic had been crammed into the remaining building, which had once been exam rooms with a secondary waiting room. The staff, mostly women, wore grimy clothing and had the smudges of relentless exhaustion under their eyes. People sat against the wall outside the clinic, waiting their turn for a doctor, the snow heaped around them in gray mounds. They stared at Jayesh as he approached.
He halted, shocked at the sight of such a crowd. He'd worn his combat robes, brown and white, and he felt about ten baths cleaner than anyone else there. Many were shivering in the cold morning, their lips blue.
One man climbed to his feet, coughing a chesty, wet cough. He wiped his mouth and extended the same hand to Jayesh. "Are you this week's warlock?"
Thankful for his gloves, Jayesh shook hands. "Yes, I'm Guardian Jayesh. How long have you been waiting?"
"A few hours," the man replied, his voice raspy. He had the saggy, shrunken look of a man who had once been fat, but lost weight too quickly. His eyes were bloodshot. "Some people have been here longer than me."
Jayesh nodded. "Well, I can create a healing rift here, before I go in. Hang on." He dug his heel into the dirty snow and dragged it in a ten-foot circle. He took his place in the center. "I don't know how many people will fit in here, but let's try."
The people had watched this with rising hope, scrambling to their feet, lifting children in their arms. Now they crowded forward, pressing into the circle, jostling Jayesh.
He waved one hand downward, calling on the Light. The snow blazed blue. At once, the healing power crept into the people, mending wounds and eating away at infections and sickness. People sighed. One woman began softly crying. A child exclaimed, "Mama, I can breathe!"
Maintaining the rift was easy enough that Jayesh could think about other things. The woman closest to him had no coat, and was wrapped in a scavenged blanket. Her face was too thin, the cheekbones standing out beneath her eyes.
"When did you last eat?" he asked her quietly.
She gave him a startled look. "Oh - I know I look bad, Mr. Warlock. I had cancer before the Red War, and naturally, my treatments stopped. I think these healing rifts have cured it, but I haven't regained much weight."
Astonished, Jayesh thought to his ghost, "Healing rifts cure cancer?"
"Maybe," Phoenix replied from phase. "I notice she keeps coming back for more healing, so maybe it only beats it down for a while."
Jayesh spoke to various people, learning their stories, their illnesses, how they'd survived the Red War. But after a while he had to stop and concentrate on keeping the rift going, gazing at the blue light underfoot with a frown.
Finally he let it expire, releasing a long breath. The people murmured and stepped out of the circle, flexing arms, stamping feet, and smiling at one another.
"I hope I helped you," Jayesh told them. "I'll be here all week if you need more."
As he pushed his way through the clinic's heavy doors, Phoenix murmured in his head, "This will be a beating."
The waiting room was crammed with people - sitting, standing, huddled together in groups for warmth. The building had no power, and it was nearly as cold indoors as out. It smelled heavily of body odor and sickness.
"Uh, Phoenix," Jayesh thought, "keep me healed, all right? I don't want to catch anything."
"Of course."
Since he could barely get through the door, Jayesh dropped another healing rift. He had to do it three times, curing people in batches, who departed afterward, looking happier. By the time he reached the front of the room, where a woman was keeping records by the light of a tiny brazier, he was lightheaded.
She, too, was thin and none too clean. But her eyes were bright as she glared at Jayesh. "You should have informed me before you started work, Guardian. People inside have been waiting since five o'clock this morning. Healing is first come, first served."
"I couldn't get in," Jayesh snapped, the heat of angry humiliation rising in his cheeks. "Do you have this many people here every day?"
"Yes," the woman said. "The sickest patients are in the exam rooms. I'll show you in."
She stalked into the dark building, muttering about inconsiderate warlocks and being overworked with so little pay. Jayesh followed, trying not to listen and control his temper.
The first door the woman opened contained three women and a crowd of children, all huddled on the floor under a window with no shutter. Their gaunt, hungry faces greeted Jayesh, hope gleaming in their eyes.
As he produced a healing rift for them, Phoenix said in his head, "What illness is this?"
Jayesh asked. One of the women answered, "Doctor says it's like pneumonia, but it doesn't respond to drugs. They're calling it War Lung. Everybody has it."
The man who had greeted him outside, coughing such a terrible cough ... Jayesh studied them as they basked in his Light. "How's sanitation?"
After hearing about sewer lines contaminating water lines, and of how all water had to be boiled, but without power, this was nearly impossible, Jayesh regretted asking.
He moved from room to room, healing groups of various illnesses, but mostly War Lung. He finally found a doctor in one room, who was listening to a man's heart with a stethoscope. As Jayesh began healing, he asked the doctor, "Where does War Lung come from?"
"Stress and poor living conditions," the doctor sighed. She was a short woman with bushy hair who looked as if she hadn't slept in days. "We don't have enough drugs to treat everyone. It's even worse at the hospitals. We're overrun, Guardian. Ikora sends what warlocks she can spare, and we're grateful. But the need is only going to increase. Most of these people will return in a few weeks. War Lung is extremely contagious, and people can't stay clean enough to prevent the spread of germs."
Jayesh saw this for himself. Everyone was dirty and hungry-looking. He healed and healed until sundown, when the clinic closed. People waiting outside were turned away, and stumbled away through the snow, coughing.
Jayesh walked back to the Tower, exhausted, with barely a flicker of Light left in him. "Phoenix, I think I need to burn my clothes. So many people coughed on me."
"I'll mark them for decontamination," Phoenix replied. "Meanwhile, get food in you. It's been nine hours since you ate."
Jayesh was famished, but he took a shower, first, hearing that awful cough in his head. Then he changed into clean clothes and sent his gear to the Tower's laundry facility for cleaning.
It was eight o'clock by the time he reached the mess hall. It was mostly empty, but there was still the remains of dinner in the buffet. Jayesh helped himself to everything and sat at an empty table.
Phoenix emerged from phase and floated nearby to keep him company. "Well. Today was ... educational."
Jayesh indicated his meal with his fork. "I feel bad, eating this much. So many people down there barely have enough food to survive."
"We'll be rationed soon, too," Phoenix said, looking down. "I can't believe how bad it is. Your healing rift performed amazingly, but ... we need every warlock in the Vanguard down there, not just you."
"I know," Jayesh said. "Traveler's Light, I'm tired. No wonder Ikora's volunteers only last a week."
As he ate, he revived a bit. After a while, he said, "Phoenix, I'm building a to-do list. Can you record it for me?"
"Sure," Phoenix replied.
"After my week is up," Jayesh said, "I need to talk to Ikora about sending more warlocks. Kari might help me. I want to find out who's in charge of utilities and talk about cleaning up the water and sewer situation. I want to see the shelters where people are living. Also, notify me when Madrid gets back from patrol. Maybe he can tell me more about the food situation."
Phoenix recorded each item. "Looks like we have our work cut out for us."
Jayesh pushed his plate aside, leaned his elbows on the table, and gazed into his ghost's eye. "The Traveler is a healer, Phoenix. If I want to be its true servant, then I that's my mission, too."
"You're also its Guardian," Phoenix pointed out. "It created you to fight when it couldn't."
"There's more than one way to fight for what's right," Jayesh replied. "Alleviating suffering, tending the sick, feeding the hungry-why can't Guardians do that, too?"
Phoenix didn't reply for a moment. He only gazed at his Guardian in admiration. Then he flew up and leaned his shell against Jayesh's forehead. "I really do have the best Guardian."
Jayesh smiled and stroked Phoenix's shell. "Why, because I have compassion on people?"
"Because your spark sings the song of the Traveler's heart," Phoenix whispered. "The Darkness has touched the Last City, spawning sickness and despair. But you and I ... we can be a light in that Darkness."
They sat there for a long moment. Jayesh didn't know what to say, or even if he wanted to. But despite being tired, his ghost's adoration left him peaceful and contented. He was doing the right thing.