Evening, November 11 1918
"What, he's thrown you out of your office?"
"Yes, isn't this wonderful?"
"That bastard!"
"No, really, Eric, it's fine. Makes perfect sense, he has to stay close to the map room and the War Room. I can sit anywhere, though it's harder on Brad and Dutch and all the assistants who have to run back and forth. Brad says he can't get a mug of tea all the way over here before it cools. He's demanded an insulated carafe; I won't be here long enough to justify a samovar. Just be glad Will didn't try to wedge me into Personnel. This room is much more pleasant than mine, and the window opens. I can feed the pigeons and see out over the street. Wish I could stay here, but I'll probably be back in Ops as soon as Will's paint and varnish fumes dissipate."
Eric checked the bond between them. Repressed anger. Sadness. Determination to make the best of a bad situation. "It's not as safe."
"I don't care. This room is far less a prison. Remember, this was Will's office before Operations became defensible. And no, defense is not really important, is it? We always thought an invasion would come from the basements, up the stairwells. But this attack began in the War Room and was contained within Ops. Not what we originally intended, but it worked beautifully. Nobody outside Ops was harmed. The Upper floors never noticed."
"He'll be going through your desk and cabinets—"
"Let him. Everything he'll find there is innocent enough to be nailed to the church door on Sunday morning – or of dubious value until I have proven or disproven the allegation. Anything personal is in my duffel at home. When we do our site visit on Saturday, I'll leave it all there in the cottage they've set up for us. I'm very interested in the local Pawnbroker. We'll buy him dinner and talk. Well, you'll talk and I'll listen. It sounds like he reads the newspapers."
"True. The seeds of the next great war are already being planted. Well now. Happy eleventh of November, me Light. The war is over. Should we celebrate tonight? Very quietly, nothing to call attention to us, but that nice Italian restaurant over on Third Street, maybe, and a glass of yer favorite wine? Or a quiet ale and dinner at the Scythe and Skull? We won't want to go into the Human Realm, they'll all be mafficking about. And not the Twa Corbies, with all the patrons complaining that the end of the war is not the end of the epidemic."
"And all the predators waiting outside."
"Ach, not a problem so much anymore. There's a new addition to the place, an enclosed extension built out over the sidewalk. No tables or chairs, no drinks permitted but coffee. The nonaggression pact is extended to it, but as it's not part of the bar ye can summon yer scythe to port home. Up to you to judge if yer sober enough."
"That's a great idea."
"Thanks. They liked it. I'll ask Will to let ye keep this room."
November 12, 1918
Will read Mountjoy's report with great interest. Kendall was not yet able to write or dictate, but ffoulkes and Parkash had submitted theirs. He also had a censored copy of Gorman's. Richards and Johns had sent him a joint report, which he suspected of being a précis. For one thing, Engineer Smithfield had been present for the invasion, but neither Johns nor Richards had mentioned exactly why he was there. Smithfield and three others, each armed with a backpack with a sprayer attachment. About four gallons capacity. Something Supplies used around their delivery sites to repel demons. Will made a note to find out exactly what the spray contained.
More to the point; all this was the result of a Reaper-against-Reaper conflict, based on Human politics and history, which were completely irrelevant to the Reaper Realm. Almost all of that was stripped away from a human at death, when the life records were collected. But Mountjoy and Kendall had been classed as Britain rather than London, sent out alone, denied medical treatment, refused transport home. Indeed, Kendall had been reported dead until Humphries required that the body be returned. There had been some frantic shuffling. Before Amritsar could create a proper cover story, the London team had been found in Mindouri Village, removed to Raja Sansi, and from there to the long-range portal at Lahore. This had been reported to Madame and the Garrrison as a matter of concern to the Angels.
Parkash should be rewarded. Simply doing his duty, of course, but Grell would not see it that way. She had a horror of managers who punished employees for volunteering to take on dangerous duty. Humphries had commended Parkash as a valuable, capable person, willing to risk danger to aid a pair of strangers and the Reaper who had been their trainee. Likewise highly commended by Gorman and Johns, which would go into his record. Will made another note not to penalize him for the work he had missed while on foreign assignment. Nor should he punish ffoulkes for leaving his post. Humphries would force him to reverse any such action. Grell would disapprove.
Dare he use this episode as an excuse to bring Grell home? No. He could not. She would refuse; he did not want to resume that quarrel. She was in a triad that would not be targeted, even in Amritsar. Gupta was Hindustani, Vanderveldt was a Boer, and Grell was forever and only Chainsaw. She had doubtless established her inviolability her first day in Bombay. Some local opportunist was probably still in recovery.
How he missed her.
Saturday November 16, 1918
What a pretty place, thought Alan. I wonder what will sprout here when spring comes. There should be books I can borrow from the school. Perhaps local Reapers who also like to garden. And the cottage looks wonderful.
"The school will be happy to help if you need heavy digging- there's always a student or two who's too big for his breeches; you'll know all about that," said Professor Talbot.
"Thank you, but I intend to start very small at first, working around whatever may be planted here already. I want to be careful not to let my garden get too large to manage once my teaching schedule is added to my Reaping. Work tends to expand to fill the available time. I would like to bring a cutting from a rosebush, though. I hope to plant for fragrance as well as color."
"The climate is a little warmer, a little dryer than you are used to," said Director Chandless. "We can adjust that if you wish. The technology isn't difficult, if you want to learn how to control it. Household and garden help is available. We pull overstressed Reapers off of active duty and let them recover while doing admin and maintenance work. Gardening's a popular hobby. We actually have a list of volunteers eager to help with yours." He led the party inside, to see a welcoming place that did not resemble a tomb.
"This cottage only looks quaint on the outside. We design the interiors to suit a busy schedule. Modern plumbing and wiring. Central heating. Lots of hot water. Telephone. Top-of-the-line portal behind that door. Durant Frigidaire in the kitchen, a gift from the Cafeteria. Food's really good there too, but not what you're used to, so we thought you might like the option of cooking at home. Housing's left a furniture catalog with order forms."
"Does all of your Branch live in such luxury?"
"Yes. Benefits of a startup branch in a rural setting – we can make our own traditions. We have more space, shared among fewer people. Most of what you see is standard issue in this part of the country. We aren't as repressive or as crowded as the big city Branches tend to be. We don't have the secession rates they do either. Different Branch, different philosophy, we hire enough people to cover our Lists without exhaustion and treat them well enough that they want to stay."
Headmaster Rosine added, "There is that rule that rural reapers do have to serve in a city every so often. You won't have to worry about that until you've been here twenty years. If you are teaching at that time, we will insist that they assign you close by and arrange your duties around the class schedule."
Eric said, "Humans are so rapid in their changes. In twenty years, this area may no longer be rural."
Chandless swept on. "That portal, now, that's sent special from the London Lab. It will take you much longer distances than you might think. In fact, it will open a door in the London Lab because Senior Franklin thinks you'll need that. We've got a full-size version in our War Room. The manual's on the kitchen table."
"I'll take it with me and read it tonight," said Alan. "Seniors Franklin and Cole are always right."
"So I've heard. Two more of your rescues, I know. I'm one too. You found me extra tuition when I was injured and fell behind my class."
Alan laid his briefcase on the kitchen table. From it he removed his last copy of the first printing of his Field Guide to Demons and handed it to Headmaster Rosine. While they discussed copyright, Chandless turned Eric back toward the parlor. They sat in very comfortable chairs. Chandless leaned forwards, elbows on knees, and clasped his hands. "Senior Slingby. Your partner is not happy. What are we doing wrong?"
"Nothing. He's pleased by your offers, as am I. But he is currently in a very unpleasant situation, ye see. And he's not used to kindness." Eric paused, listened for a moment to the conversation in the kitchen, and continued.
"His Director is under great pressure from his own duties, which makes him very tricky to work with. Alan knows he's eventually going to be fired in disgrace. It's just a question of how long it will take Spears to make the connection between Smitty's new demon repellant and the contamination of some of our people a few weeks ago."
"Was any damage done?"
"No. The stuff is damaging to demons but harmless to Reapers, angels, and humans, according to Supplies' last report. We recently used it to great effect when we were invaded through our War Room portal. The problem is not the repellant, but the way it was tested in its earlier version, which I suspect had some undesirable side effects on Reapers. Supplies had been using it for quite a while, but Supplies does not Reap."
They paused again to be sure the conversation in the kitchen continued. There was a sound of a kettle filling and cups being set out.
"Director Spears will realize that Senior Humphries dealt with the situation quietly instead of passing it up the ladder," said Chandless.
"Aye. Ordinarily, it would not be a problem, no harm done and Scythes would be grateful for not making a public fuss. Alan pointed out the hole in Smitty's theory. Smitty went and confessed to his superiors – they hadn't thought of the side effects on Reaping either. Scythes has already dealt with it and considers the matter closed. What he did not do was report it to Will."
"Because Spears might overreact."
"He might. Up till about three months ago, Will was not so daft as to make enemies in Scythes."
"And that's changed."
"Alan's been Will's employee since his graduation in 1883. He's been the buffer between Will and his Reapers since 1904. And for most of that time they've enjoyed it, ye ken. A game well played, to the benefit of the Branch. But then the war started. Will is all about control, in a world which is changing, faster and faster, crumbling under his feet. One person over whom he exerts daily control is Alan. Alan's friends have withdrawn to safe distances. Alan's aides last four to six months. He's down to one understudy and a Reaper acting as his Admin Assistant, the only two who refuse to leave him. At the same time, Alan's Academy work is being attacked by other professors. They're teaching students stuff his active Reaping experience contradicts. He refuses to stop truth-telling. They'll love an excuse to demand he be fired. So aye, he's waiting for the axe to fall."
"Why does he not simply quit and come to us now?"
"Duty. Duty and stubbornness. He's hoping the worst of the pandemic will be over, so the effects on others will be minimized. And something else bad is coming that he can't escape. It's going to happen soon. He has to be there to deal with it."
"Then we will wait. We will put him on limited duty when he arrives and call it training and orientation. Will that and a garden be enough?"
"I would like to think so. To keep him from drowning in the sorrow, ye ken. But I will not lie to ye. Ye might have to put us both on extended leave while I bring him back; we've done that once before. Is that going to be a deal breaker?"
"We are perfectly willing to grant you both medical leave for as long as you need it. Please understand; our Branch covers a large area, but one that is thinly populated. The 'flu's been through here twice already. We can wait."
"Thank ye. It might take a while. But if ye allow him this healing, you will win the gratitude and loyalty of a very good Reaper. And one Reaper who is not exemplary, but is of long experience."
"We will have two Reapers of matchless value. Senior Slingby, will you read the newspapers for us?"
"Aye. I cannot hold back Time by refusing to observe its progress. And I think that the last war is only paused while all the participants recover and repopulate. I would do this for Alan's sake; I will happily do it for you, and for the students we will teach. But look ye, once he is well and doing what he does best, London will want him back."
Chandless sat up straight. "London can pound sand. London's writ does not run here. London needs to understand that you have every right to leave an intolerable situation, and every right to accept a better offer. Our Senior Administrator has promised that any demands will be met with weaponized indifference ending in flat refusal. The decision to go or stay is always yours, of course. But we will fight to keep you while this arrangement benefits us both equally."
"Fair enough. Once Will's temper has cooled he will try to stop Alan leaving."
"Then we must make a few arrangements. I've been talking to Supplies, and Scythes owes Alan an enormous debt. In case your Director goes absolutely barking before you are ready to give notice, you and Alan must have a prepared escape plan."
"Alan, certainly. He's working on it. London can't hold me against my will. They know better than to try. But if we can go quietly together, and be here before they realize we've left Britain, that would be best."
"I have some suggestions. In the bedroom of this cottage you will find two small suitcases…"
