2005

GRAVEYARD SHIFT

CHAPTER SIX – Personalization –

"We can assist in helping you personalize services for your loved one."

"Funeral-related work has been called the Dismal Trade, overrun by sanctimonious con men and carpetbaggers, insidiously exploiting the bereaved at the moment of their greatest weakness."

Zelgadiss remembered his friend and cousin, Xel, ranting about that during one of his more recent visits. Well, the same could be said of the medical industry, as far as Zelgadiss was concerned. He was looking askance at his reflection in the mirror over the small sink in his hospital room, while listening to the useless droning of his doctor.

"We are sorry, Zelgadiss, but for now it is the best we could do," the doctor said.

Zelgadiss' eyes narrowed and slid lower to better view the floor. He knew that what was implied, but left unsaid, was the fact that nothing more could be done for the little money his family is willing to spend on his re-habilitation.

"You are lucky..." the doctor continued.

"Oh yeah, I'm so damned lucky to be alive! I should thank my f—king lucky stars, shouldn't I?" Zelgadiss shouted.

"You are young and alive. You have all your body parts, and they work. Yes, I should say you should be grateful to those who worked to keep you together and make you well. The rest is up to you. As new cures for your...ah...condition are developed, as your doctor, I will let you know. Yes, your life has been disrupted. It will change in ways you hadn't planned on, in ways you haven't considered yet, and in ways you may not have wanted, but you are a strong young man, Zelgadiss. I want you to meet with a psychologist regularly to help you and guide you in the next few months."

"As if anyone will want to waste their money on that," Zelgadiss thought to himself.

The doctor paused to let his words sink in. "You have some friends waiting outside who would like to see you. Yes, see you. I'll return later with your release papers, and then we can go over your care needs."

Zelgadiss listened in silence. Right at the moment the future seemed like a gray desert with nothing beyond the horizon but more of the same pointless struggle. "Why bother?" he wondered. "Who would hire a freak like me? Who will ever want to go out with me?"

The doctor shook his head fractionally as he left the room. In his place entered a nurse followed by three of Zelgadiss' friends. Sylphiel was starting her college education to be a nurse practitioner and was familiar with the hospital. In fact, this nurse was often her supervisor.

"Ah, hey Zel? Um, I brought a couple others to say..." Gourry stopped. The shock of seeing his childhood buddy completely altered was too much for him—even after Amelia had warned him that the bandages were to be removed this day and that he would look different. It took all of his reserves to compose his face and restrain himself from gawking foolishly, leaving nothing left to formulate words into meaningful sentences.

Amelia filled in immediately, "Hi! We wanted to be the first to greet you today." But even she was having difficulty coming to grips with this transformed Zelgadiss.

Sylphiel stepped up. "Oh, dear Zelly," she cried out. She flung her arms around him and wept into his chest. "I was so worried about you. Every day I came to see you, you were sleeping and when that infection got worse..."

"The tea you brought helped, more than all the crap they tried to fill me with," Zelgadiss said, sneaking a hard look at the nurse, and then pushed Sylphiel away gently. "They had a hard time inserting the needles in my arms; they poked and prodded trying to drug me with IV shit."

"You have not been a very good patient." A nurse changed out his drinking water and prepared to take his temperature. She looked at Sylphiel meaningfully, "He had to be sedated to have a catheter inserted, as you recall."

Zelgadiss blushed and looked away.

"I hope you will be better behaved while I remove it?"

Zelgadiss couldn't think up a more embarrassing time to have his friends present. "Not now."

"It's okay, Zelly," Sylphiel said kindly. "We'll step out and wait until you are cleared for release." Without waiting for his reply, she scooted the others out of his room whispering, "He really needs his privacy, guys."

Gourry waved, "Uh...later!"

Amelia was the first out. "Sylphiel! He...he...he's...blue!"

Zelgadiss woke up an hour later to the sounds of a growing group of friends entering his room. He wanted to hide, but had only a sheet to cover his lower extremities. As a result, he wrapped his arms around his chest and hid behind his fall of silver bangs, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Sylphiel was gripping Gourry's arm, encouraging him to talk to Zelgadiss, but no words were forthcoming. Gourry could feel waves upon waves of fear and loathing rushing off of his friend in turns; he was awash in it and couldn't speak for fear of drowning.

Xel and Valgaav, having seen much, much worse on a nightly basis, affected no outward appearance of surprise. They talked on as if it was just business as usual. Zelgadiss never looked up. He was more than ready to leave the hospital, and so Zelgadiss accepted Valgaav and Xel's offer to move into their house without hesitation (and without much grace either.)

"Says here he hasta stay away from fumes, like paint," Valgaav pointed out on a ten-page document he'd lifted off the doctor on his way into the room. "So that means no repainting that room for him, Xel."

Amelia, who had been very quiet and standing in the shadows until now, perked up to say, "I'll scrub the walls good and vacuum until the rug hasn't a speck of dust! And if there's a hard-wood floor under the rug, I'll rip off the rug and polish that floor until it shines like a mirror! I had bad allergies as a little girl and my room had an air cleaner in it to purify the air. We'll bring that over and keep you breathing clean air, no matter what!" She punctuated each of her statements with a skywards punch of her little fist and an enthusiastic cry so great that her other friends were struck mute a moment.

"Uhhh, yeah. I'll give her a hand," Lina added. "It's gonna get better, Zelly, ya know? Things have a way of working out for me, and in this case that means for you, too."

For Zelgadiss, however, there was an utter inability even to hope. It was an abyss where existence was a fear in itself. As he fully comprehended his dismal situation, the resulting misery was given away by his eyes. His emotional state was painfully transparent no matter how hard he tried to hide it from everyone.

"I'm just sayin' that you've been spending a lot of time over there lately, and I work all day, so when I got free time at night, I'd like to take ya out, but then yer over there." Gourry wanted his girlfriend to pay some attention to him, at least half as much as she spent over at that house full of other men.

"Yeah, Gourry, trying to cheer up Zelly and get him to eat– it's a real party. He's there all by himself at night and..."

"Lina, he's my friend too, okay? I get that, but he would understand you missing a night or two so you and I could go hang out."

"Would he?" Lina didn't want to invite Gourry to join her, although that solution had occurred to her. She would let him suggest it.

"If I get Filia to sit in for you, would ya go out tomorrow?"

"If...sure. But tonight we're going to haul the rest of Zelly's things to his new place. Xel and I worked it out with his grandfather, and we've already taken some clothes."

"You've seen Rezo?" Gourry asked.

"No, he must be hurt in some way because he refused to be seen in public, and Eris has moved in to take care of him, although she won't say why. Xel did the talking. It was all done over the phone. What? You're looking at me funny."

Gourry was watching Lina for signs that she was falling for that other guy, Xelloss. They spent more time in one another's company than Gourry liked, but Lina didn't appear to have a special attraction for Xel. There was no wistful look in her eye or trembling in her voice when she mentioned his name. Gourry smiled, thinking that there wasn't any danger of losing Lina, for the time being. "You just looked so pretty right then, that's all. You're doing a fine thing for Zelgadiss. I'm proud of ya."

"T-Thanks, Gourry," she faltered. His unveiled affection was hard to miss. His golden hair and cheerful smile filled her field of vision. "Like twin suns in the sky today," she mused.

He leaned way down and kissed her very lightly on the lips. He had chosen that moment for their first kiss because she wasn't expecting it, and they were standing in her doorway so he could make a quick getaway if he'd guessed wrong. He could sense her sudden intake of air, the tensing of her body against his. He glanced to the side checking his exit route as panic clenched at his gut. Then his attention was drawn back to where Lina's body touched his; there was the barest return of pressure as she responded positively to his kiss. All thoughts of competition fled his mind as Lina, Lina, Lina filled it to brimming.

It was an uncomfortable evening for both Filia and Zelgadiss. It was a warm summer night and yet Zelgadiss was wearing a long-sleeved turtle-neck shirt and long pants. He had forgone the hooded sweatshirt this time; it was just too hot. There was no hiding his altered appearance, but he tried. Filia tried to keep her banter light and airy, telling him about her day without staring slack-jawed at his incredible appearance. Zelgadiss' long, dark hair had been transformed into a wild mop of silvery strands completely covering one side of his face before sweeping out at the sides and back, barely brushing his shoulders. His delicate features were marred with chemical-burn hash marks on every visible part of his face and body. His window was closed, the curtains drawnas they had been all dayso the only light in the room came from a dim desk lamp. This meant that the light wasn't good for making out colors, but even so, Filia couldn't help but think that his complexion had a bluish cast.

The only feature of Zelgadiss that was unaltered was his singularly expressive and beautiful blue eyes; those had no problem seeing his reflection in her eyes: freak. She was loath to touch him, look at him, even talk to him about his accident. It was a torture he could do without. He wished she would leave.

Her conversation was faltering when the phone rang. Zelgadiss had an extension in his room. His computer was on a desk, his guitar in a case in the clothes closet. Someday he'd get a cell phone, if he ever got a job, if he ever left his room. He made no attempt to answer it, so Filia did.

"Hello? No, idiot, do I sound like Zelgadiss? That's right, I'm no Lina. Real sharp, aren't you? So what do you want?" Just the sound of Xel's voice could set Filia off.

The gray cat brushed up against her ankles, and then finding that it was ignored, the cat jumped up on Zelgadiss' bed. "Hi, Shadow."

"Yeah, well, I'm allergic to cats; I think that's what's making my eyes itch, so I can't stay much longer." Filia frowned, listening to Xel tell her that it was her duty to stay there until her charge was ready to go to bed. And even then, it would be real nice of her to stay and see that he did that and took his medication, which was sitting out on the counter in the adjoining bathroom. Filia moved further away from the bed, turned her back on the subject of the conversation, and said in a lowered voice, "Okay, I know. Lina told me. I'll do what I can, but it's hard. I don't know what to say. He's...like an alien or something. I really think I might start screaming or crying. Don't you dare threaten me!"

She slammed the phone back onto the receiver.

"Who was that?" Zelgadiss asked, knowing full well who it had to be. He had heard Filia saying cutting remarks to Xel, but it was a two-way street. Filia had the unfortunate character flaw of being too serious around Xel, leaving herself open to his ridicule.

Filia stared at him a moment before saying, "Are you really related to that...that...filth?"

Zelgadiss felt his defenses surface to fend off her attack on his new friends, but he hadn't the energy to rise to the occasion and argue, so he shrugged, "Xelloss and Valgaav, but I have no idea how. We've never climbed the family tree to find out, so to speak. Listen, Filia, I know you...need to get going. There's really no purpose in your staying here any longer. I can take my pills and go to bed without help."

At that moment, he hoped dearly that she would suddenly transform into the girl of his dreams and actually want to stay, but he was a realist. He knew that wasn't going to happen. He didn't want her to remain out of pity, either. When provided with an easy 'out' she would leave, he was certain, but he still held onto a shred of hope.

"Yeah, you're right. I do have stuff to do. Hey, it was really great...seeing you and all. I'll come around again and maybe we can...do something. So... take care and...later!"

The tattered remains of Zel's hope scattered helter-skelter in the dust cloud of her leaving.

And, when he had heard the front door slam shut, his tightly controlled emotions gave way one last time. "I never, ever want to feel like this again," Zelgadiss whimpered.

He resolved never to expose his feelings to another girl again. The pain of rejection was far too great. If he was to survive in this world of exalted beauty as a freak, then he would do it with stoicism. Yes, he thought, from now on he would be indifferent to either pleasure or pain; calm and unflinching under duress as well as free from love, joy, and grief. He would be known, henceforth as Zelgadiss the Stoic.

He was genuinely alone now in his dark-filled room.

Valgaav rolled the body from the cooler and placed it on the autopsy table. He was experienced with the job and so could transfer even this obese body from the carriage to the table without assistance. Since the comfort of the patient was no longer a consideration, the transfer was accomplished with what might appear to the uninitiated as a rather brutal combination of pulls and shoves, not unlike the way a thug might manhandle a mugging victim.

Xelloss took the body's measurements, noting, "Big guy. Glad your dad invested in this total-body scale."

Together, the two men repositioned the body and Valgaav placed the 'body block' under the cadaver's back. The plastic, brick-like appliance forced the chest to protrude outward and the arms and neck to fall back, thus allowing the maximum exposure of the trunk for the upcoming incisions.

"Ready," Xelloss said.

Valgaav turned on the tape recorder, adjusted the overhead lights, and then checked to make sure that the body named on the autopsy permit matched the toe tag. He read the ID number and name off into the microphone, and then, "Checking for abnormalities of the external body surfaces."

"Hold on," Xelloss stopped him. "The tape is bunching up and...oooh, looks bad for voice recording tonight. At least we got the first one over with before this happened."

"Figures," Valgaav snorted. "They assign us two autopsies tonight and the equipment breaks. We could sure use Zelgadiss, but he's so damned depressed. Think he'll ever wanna come back to work here? It's not a place for guys with problems."

"Well, Filia is visiting him tonight all alone... in his bedroom. So, if all goes well, he should be making a recovery very soon. Tell you what, you start making autopsy notes on the diagram and checklist, and I'll give them a call and see how things are going."

Valgaav thought to stop him, thinking that if things were going well Zelgadiss wouldn't want to be disturbed, but then held himself back. Xel would be aware of that too, so he must not have much faith in Filia. Valgaav had to agree; she didn't seem to be very tolerant of imperfection, and Zelgadiss was now an insane artist's work of defective humanity. Valgaav chuckled quietly to himself thinking, "He'd fit right in in Atlas City."

Xelloss returned from his phone call with a creased brow. "She's bolting, the traitor," he said, and then added on a string of unflattering descriptive words.

Valgaav stood back and let Xel take out his animosity on the cadaver. He was highly skilled with the 'bread knife', a large, scalpel-like knife, and this one was Xel's personal prized property. Xel executed the initial Y-shaped incision in the trunk without a moment's hesitation. The arms of the Y extended from the front of each shoulder to the bottom end of the breast bone, and the tail of the Y extend to the pubic bone, making a slight deviation to avoid the navel. The incision was very deep, extending to the rib cage on the chest, and completely through the abdominal wall below that. His usual faint smile had returned.

Valgaav avoided looking into his cousin's eyes. He didn't want to know what was going on inside Xel's head, and if the 'eyes were windows into the soul', then he really didn't want to probe further. "Filia hasn't changed," Valgaav said. "I recognize her from parochial school."

"You don't say," Xel muttered as he set into peeling the skin, muscle, and soft tissues off the chest wall. This he did with deft strokes of the scalpel. "I didn't know you went to a private school."

"Yeah, private, rigid, narrow-minded, and insular in its attitudes toward anyone outside of the Golden Cepheid clan. Even my mom was excluded from many of the clan's activities, and she was just part of the Ancient clan."

"Not Gaav?"

"No, not him. Definite outsider, as you know. Anyway, Filia hasn't changed much since then, except she's studying to be a priestess."

"And she has breasts," Xelloss said coincidentally as he freed the cadaver's chest flap, and then pulled it upward over the body's face. The action exposed the front of the rib cage and the strap muscles of the front of the neck. He made a face reflexively as the smell of human muscle, raw meat, reached his nose. "She doesn't seem to know who you are."

"Aside from the color of my hair, I don't look much like I did. I probably grew two feet, gained a hundred pounds..."

"Not to mention the make up," Xel grinned. "I don't suppose you donned war paint as a little kid."

"Actually, I did."

Further conversation was drowned out when Valgaav turned on the electric saw to open the rib cage. He made a single cut up each side of the front of the rib cage to separate the sternum and the ribs from the rest of the skeleton. Xel used the scalpel to dissect the soft tissues stuck to the back of the chest plate, and then helped Val peel it back, exposing the heart and lungs.

Valgaav paused to record their progress.

"He died at the hospital," Xel read off the report. "I'll check for blood clots, then."

Before disturbing the organs further, he cut open the pericardial sac surrounding the heart, then the pulmonary artery where it exited the heart. He stuck his finger into the hole in the pulmonary artery feeling around for any blood clots which had dislodged from a vein elsewhere in the body, traveled through the heart to the pulmonary artery, lodged there, and caused the man's death. "Bingo! Clotted up! Case closed. Let's wrap this up and leave the nasty part for the morning crew."

Valgaav checked the wall clock, "We have enough time to swab down the place, but no more. Okay. I'll put this away and you start mopping."

When they arrived home, the first thing they did was check on Zelgadiss in his room.

"Take a look," Valgaav whispered. He stood at the doorway to Zelgadiss' room.

Xel snuck a peek. "Ahhhh, it's a moment enclosed in a hermetically-sealed coffin; a scene reflected in a casket lid, engraved upon a granite headstone," Xel whispered expansively, and then snickered at his own clever turn of phrase.

Both the big, black tom cat and the gray female were sharing the extra warmth snuggled up with the sleeping young man.

"You have spent far too much time in the mortuary," Valgaav muttered as he sauntered off to take his morning ritual shower. "I think I may know how to help him, though."

Later that afternoon, all three young men gathered in Zelgadiss' room. Valgaav set a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich on the bedside stand. "I'm opening the window," he said in a tone that permitted no argument.

"So, tell me," Xel began light heartedly, "You've known Lina the longest. How can I get past her defenses?"

"You want her to like you?" Zelgadiss asked between bites.

"That would be nice too," Xel chuckled.

Zelgadiss frowned, "She's not a quick lay, if that's what you're looking for. She's got a mind of her own, very opinionated, but pretty balanced, and she's able to defend herself."

"Sounds like you lost out to her current boyfriend."

"Not 'lost out', more like I stepped aside. Gourry's a good friend and Lina and I were really more friends than anything else at the time. I recommend that you do the same and not get involved. It's not worth it. Little is."

Valgaav didn't like the sound of that last line; Zelgadiss was falling back into himself. On a whim he asked for some help. "I need to name the kittens."

He plopped and armload of fluff on Zelgadiss' lap. He hadn't budged from his bed since the others had awakened and now six blind kittens snuffled and squirmed over and between his legs. "Whoa...I'll bet your daddy was the black tom."

Most of the kittens were tabby-colored like the mother, one was all black, but one was smaller and nearly tortoiseshell, but just its head and shoulders. Its middle was tabby, while its tail and legs were all black, giving it the look of a patchwork quilt. The tiny kitten was less active than its brothers and sisters. It was that one which attracted Zelgadiss' attention as he gently stroked its soft fur.

"That's the runt," Valgaav told him. "Probably won't survive because it doesn't get much milk."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Well, that's nature. 'Course, if you were to supplement it with a bottle, it might be okay."

"I could do that," Zelgadiss said with enthusiasm. "Chimera."

"What?" asked Xel.

"I'll name him Chimera because he looks like miss-mash of cat types, and the word also means 'something hoped for but impossible to achieve', like his growing up to adulthood without some assistance."

Xel flashed a quick smile to Valgaav. Their ploy had worked like a dream. Zelgadiss had something depending on him now. He'd have to get up and move.

And he did. Zelgadiss left his room more often to prepare the kitten's special formula, supplied by the vet along with a specially-designed bottle. He wouldn't leave the house, though. Although the soreness of his damaged skin had mostly dissipated, he was far too uncomfortable with his appearance to be seen by anyone. The number of friends willing to visit him had diminished drastically since the blinds were opened. Without a doubt, his skin was blue with markings, which gave him a marbleized look. Add to that his shock of silver hair and he made an amazingly exotic, but not human, fashion statement. However, it was his cold, uncaring attitude that put his friends off the most.

Valgaav and Xel knew that it was all a facade to protect him from rejection. Around his kitten, for Chimera was to remain in the house as his pet, Zelgadiss was loving, gentle, and all the other qualities locked inside him.

"I guess you guys are my best friends now," he said a few days after all the kittens' eyes opened. He was on the living room floor playing with all the kittens under mother tabby's constant inspection.

"Valgaav and I don't count?"

Zelgadiss colored slightly. "Of course, you know what I mean. You and Valgaav ...are the best."

"That's good to hear. I have an old saying: 'Friends help you move, REAL friends help you move dead bodies.'"

Zelgadiss' eye shot upwards. "I can't go back there."

"Yes you can. Vurumagen will take you back in an instant–he said so when Valgaav and I told him we needed you back. You made a real impression on the man, although I can't see how, since you only worked with us. Anyway, the job is there, waiting. Zelgadiss?"

"I guess I could get used to the work. I couldn't come up with a better job scenario: no one to see me but the ones that tell no tales and can't run away screaming, it's dark coming and going to work most the year, and it's as creepy as I am." Zelgadiss smiled inwardly as he imagined the look of horror on Vurumagen's face as he saw him for the first time since the accident. No amount of makeup artistry would cure his defects.

"That's the attitude!" Xel cheered in congratulations to his grumpy friend's decision.

He was rewarded with a coarse remark, which only encouraged Xel to tease further. "Maybe I should dress up too, I mean, what with Valgaav's neo-Egyptian makeup and your alien-machine hybrid look, I just reek of ordinary." He dropped to the floor posed like one of the cats. "Yeow!"

Zelgadiss laughed and kicked him. Xelloss chuckled, "Fighter, huh?" and launched himself at Zelgadiss' midsection.

They were engaged in an impromptu wrestling match, when Valgaav stormed in, "You'll crush the kittens, assholes!"

They hadn't and wouldn't, but it gave Valgaav an excuse to join in, right after he moved the babies back to their box. Xel and Valgaav tied for strongest, but Zelgadiss impressed them with his athleticism and quickness.

"I'm really more track and field," he explained over drinks and dinner. "I have a collection of medals in a box, and I'll likely make the varsity team at the university come fall..." His voice trailed off as he came to realize that that just wasn't going to become reality now, "or not."

"You got into the university. That's not for a few weeks. Why not forget about that until then and prepare for the most exciting summer of your previously bleak existence?" Xel smiled deviously.

"Working with cadavers is exciting? Not my word for it. Oh, and by the way, I fixed that tape recorder you brought in the other day. Someone had shoved part of a surgical glove inside."

"Mr. Athlete and Mr. Fix-it!" Xelloss giggled.

"Thanks," Valgaav broke in. "See, I don't know about the club scene here in Seyruun, but in Atlas City you will be the leading edge in cool."

"Freak shows..." Zelgadiss guessed.

"No, just kids looking for a good time and breaking the molds," Valgaav checked the time. "Time to go. Bring the recorder."

The three young men locked up the house.

Xel drove to the Rubyeye Funeral Home and Mortuary, parked in his usual spot, and led the way to the back entrance.

"You first," he waved Zelgadiss through the door. "Welcome home, and I'll take that tape recorder, thank you."

Valgaav swept past them to check the work chart, "Autopsy, but just the one. We can have time to do some inventory and ordering then. It's a light night. Go ahead, roll 'er in."

Zelgadiss nodded, and then entered the cadaver keep. Only one shrouded body rested on a gurney, which had to be the night's assignment. His eyes swept the interior. He could see his own breath come in ghostly wisps as he muttered, "Sure sign that I'm alive, after all."

But things were not right inside the keep. "Hey, what's this? Hey, Valgaav! Does it say anything there about the body being in a locker?"

Valgaav stepped inside the refrigerated room, and Xel popped in his head asking, "Whaddaya mean? Just get the gurney."

"Probably nothing, I don't know," Zelgadiss demurred. "It's just that the other time I was in here all the wall lockers were shut tightly. Now one's open a notch."

"Good catch, Zelgadiss," Valgaav said, a cloud of visible air forming then dissipating with his words. "Go ahead and open it up."

"It's jammed... Got it! There's some kind of box jammed inside... here." Zelgadiss pulled out a heavy-looking white cardboard box, torn at the edges where it had caught on the steel locker frame.

"What's inside?" Xel asked.

Valgaav lifted the lid. "A plastic bag of something frozen."

Xel took the bag from his hands and carried it out to the marble slab top table where it would stay chilled longer. He carefully untwisted the tie closure, rolled back the wrapping, and sniffed, "Fishy."

Zelgadiss rubbed the icy surface with a gloved finger, exposing a wide-open eye, "Fish. It's a fish. A bag of frozen fish."

Both Valgaav and Xel grew serious.

"These shouldn't be stored in there," Valgaav said.

"We'll put everything back the way it was and see who comes to pick it up. My guess is that they'll come back for it," Xel suggested. "And when they do, we'll nail them."

"It's illegal, then?" Zel asked as he replaced the bag in the carton.

"Oh, yeah. Those lockers are to stop the spread of disease, so foodstuffs obviously have no place there." Valgaav jammed the box back into the locker and shut it partway as before.

Zel nodded at Val's words, "Yeah, like you warned me not to leave my lunch in there. Shhh, I hear someone at the back steps."

"Super-hearing, eh?" Xel smiled. He skipped out of the cooler for a second then dipped back in. "He's right! Someone's coming. Better hide."

Zelgadiss grabbed Valgaav's arm, "Put me in one of those lower lockers."

"Sure?" He asked, but went along with the idea. "Careful, we don't know who it is and some folks dealing in the 'dismal trade' are unscrupulous."

"Hurry!" Xelloss urged them.

Valgaav rolled Zelgadiss back into the wall, leaving the door ajar. He showed Zelgadiss how to disengage the lock from the inside should it slam shut, and then he and Xel scrambled on the two empty gurneys and pulled the folded sheets to cover them completely.

They didn't have long to wait.

Two voices and pairs of footfalls could be heard from the outer room, one of the pair an angry-sounding woman scolding the other in a hushed voice. There was a click from within the cadaver keep.

"You're late. Now be quiet and go outside and hide. Another crew should be here anytime."

More footsteps and then a sigh, "Good, empty. The screw-ups are late. Figures."

Xel whispered to Valgaav whose gurney was only inches away, "She just call us screw-ups?" He snapped his mouth shut when the woman started talking again, her voice coming closer.

"Damn, he even left the door to the keep open! And he thinks he's so clever."

They could hear her enter the keep and tug on the locker door. "Damned box..." her voice dried in her throat. She was not alone.

Slowly she swiveled her head, to see one of the steel doors rolling open on its own. An unearthly apparition rose out of the drawer.

"EEEE!" she screamed.

"Eris?" Zelgadiss gasped aloud. He was a bit rattled by her appearance as well.

She was shaking so hard the box slipped out of her grasp, the plastic bag falling heavily to the cement floor. "Eh...whooo? Oh, dear gods! Zelgadiss!" The color returned to her face as she attempted to compose herself. "I didn't recognize you...at first. I hadn't seen you since...the accident. Um... What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he muttered.

"In fact, I will!" Xel piped up and he and Valgaav both threw back their shrouds and sat up.

Eris shrieked again. "Gods no! What are you doing?"

"Oh, just fishing around," Xel grinned, then baited her some more. "Fishing for clues, maybe?"

Her eyes drifted down to the floor. "You already looked. Well, I couldn't tell you what was in the carton. It wasn't my business," she said with slightly stiff politeness, and not a great deal of truth.

Xelloss snorted and began giggling, "Oh, Eris, Eris, Eris... Don't ever go into acting. You are terrible."

Eris straightened and tried a different approach, explaining her operation and pleading her case.

"The Cepheid people control the fish cartel and have been raising the rates steadily for months. You know, or you would if you were actually practicing White Shriners..."

"Hey, I've been practicing for years and I just can't get it right," Xel mock-sniffled.

"She said 'White Shriners' not 'whiners'," Valgaav pointed out.

"He's already plenty good at whining. Go on," Zelgadiss nudged.

"White Shrine custom is to eat only fish on Wednesdays," Eris continued.

"That's a lot of fish!" Xel said in mock surprise to Valgaav. "A shit-load of fish."

"That's a fish-load of shit," Valgaav, who didn't like fish or the custom, corrected him.

"A lot of fish, that's right," Eris agreed irritably. "And with sharply rising prices it's cutting into to fishmonger's profits. There's only so much the customers can pay, the poorer ones."

"Fish-monger, like a fish-peddler or a fish-pitcher, that's funny. Do you think they have fishwives?" Xel asked with a pleased look on his face.

"Of course they do," Eris snapped. "My point is: by utilizing our surplus storage in the 'keep' I am helping the people of the White Shrine combat the Cepheid cartel. It's only one merchant, but that's how a revolution begins, one..."

"...One fishmonger at a time. Speaking of loads of crap," Zelgadiss turned to his two friends for support. "How can any of you believe this? This is an age of reason and science! Even the Renaissance had more enlightenment than her argument!"

"Not the Cepheid-led Inquisition. They burned anyone whose belief differed from theirs," Xel noted.

"Not anyone," Valgaav corrected pedantically. "Only those who had been baptized into the Golden Cepheid clan and then reverted to heresy. Hey, I am not condoning it! I only correct a misstatement."

Xel rolled his eyes and Valgaav gave him the finger.

"You aren't listening to me!" Eris shouted. She had a customer outside waiting in the bushes for his box of slowly thawing fish.

"Oh, yes we are, and that's the problem. We not only listen, we reason, and we deduct. And in the final analysis... We don't believe you, and even if we did, we don't give a coffin's comfort why you are breaking the law and putting our family's business in jeopardy. So, I suggest you give your huckster outside his box and tell him the gig's up, baby." Xelloss stood up and revealed the tape recorder which had been hiding beneath his sheet. "I got it all down on tape."

Her face brightened, "Ha! It's broken, you lame brained idiot! I broke it days ago."

He grinned and shook his head, "Sorry to burst your gill-expressed bubble, but Zelgadiss, the man of many skills, fixed it." He rewound a few seconds, punched the play button, and smiled with satisfaction as Eris' damning last words repeated for all to hear.

"To quote my mother: 'Gardeners, despite their sensitivity to beauty and respect for nature, all resort to murder and mayhem with steel-willed cunning when besot by weeds and predators.'" Xel's smile turned malicious. "You just never know. Watch your back, Miss Eris, because you never know about some people. I however, I am an accommodating man, and can be convinced."

Eris shot him a hopeful look, then remembering that Zelgadiss was in the room, she glanced briefly at him and then down and away.

At that moment Zelgadiss saw both people in another light. Xelloss suddenly seemed older, old enough to be arranging trysts with the woman his grandfather was dating, albeit a much younger woman than his grandfather should be dating. Eris seemed darker, seeped in mysterious goings-on.

"The fish is defrosting," she said simply.

"Go home. I know how to get in touch," Xelloss said lightly. "But don't let us catch you using this place for illegal activities again!" he added with an annoying finger waggle as if he were speaking to an errant child.

She rushed out the back entrance box in hand.

"We got work to do," Valgaav growled, bringing them back to reality.

End Graveyard Shift, Chapter 6