In the years before the war, Eric Slingby and Madame Administrator had made a bargain. In return for Eric's research and reports on current events in the Human Realm, Madame agreed to keep his partner Alan out of the front lines of battle.
Madame had her own reasons for keeping Alan Humphries from battlefield Reaping. Slingby's request added a certain extra weight to her decision. Both had talents worth preserving for as long as possible. She had no illusions about what would happen if the Reaper ranks shrank below a certain level, and had made it clear to Slingby in the beginning that she could eventually be overruled by her superiors. It was the only deal in town, and Slingby accepted it.
Slingby's studies of newspapers, treaties and maps proved vital. The war arrived on time, as predicted; the only surprise was the scale of the devastation. The Reapers were ready for it, as ready as they could be, but the death rates in the battles were higher than any Reaper had experienced before. Many carefully-laid plans were scrapped as the Reapers gave up on all orders and followed their Lists as they constantly updated. The days that followed saw the Reapers desperately doing whatever was necessary just to keep up. The angels and demons alike were appalled. They stood back in horror until pushed into action by their leaders.
There was a great deal of dying. It was not limited to the citizens of the Human Realm.
Madame Administrator's word held good. Alan was not sent to the battlefields, not yet, although that day might come.
After a long and terrible double shift, in the wreckage left by an airship bombing, an Angel heard his plea for a barely acceptable soul. The Angel struck him down for impertinence. Alan recovered, stood, and thrust his scythe through the Angel's boot deep into the bloody rubble. Then he slammed the Angel's shield into its owner's face and drew his knife.
The fight stopped there because the senior Angel on duty was nearby. He caught the pinned Angel's sword arm and commanded him to stand still. He asked for the Angel's version of the dispute, then asked for Alan's.
Alan delivered a précis of the Ethics lecture on the Judgement of human souls not being permitted to either Angels or Demons, but only to the Highest; and if a neutral Reaper had an opinion based on the soul's Life Records, that opinion might be offered up for consideration, without interference from any judgmental celestial or hungry infernal.
The senior Angel listened with solemn interest, then politely requested that Alan withdraw his scythe from his subordinate's foot. The featherwit was dismissed for repairs, with instructions to present himself for a hearing the next day. "Sorry, Humphries, he's new. Do tell your companion to stand down."
Sorenson lowered his scythe slightly but did not move from his position behind Alan's left shoulder.
"I want you to give the full lecture to the rest of his Flight. Please stress that bit about you lot being permitted to defend yourselves. No need to pin them down. I'll make sure they listen. Don't bother to clean up, just go to the Auditorium at your Academy."
Alan, leaning on his scythe to ease the pain in his hip and back, sighed. "Captain Elihu, I have been on duty for sixteen hours without rest. My shift is ended but my work is not. I must submit my List and Collections to the appropriate entities as required, report to my Director also as required, seek treatment for the injuries your undertrained rookie has inflicted upon me, and once that is done I will go to the Auditorium. I will be there in about two hours if the doctors aren't too busy. You'll want to use the time to make sure the Auditorium's free. They teach the larger classes there."
Captain Elihu reflected that Reapers were not that much stronger than humans, at least by Angelic standards. Likewise he recalled that they had their own schedules, enforced by their own hierarchy. "Very well, Mister Humphries. Complete your duties, see to your physical needs, and I shall have the Flight waiting in the Auditorium when you are ready to give your lecture. Ninety-five of them, plus myself and a few officers."
Humphries flipped a well-established and traditional gesture dating back to Agincourt, which Elihu preferred to consider a salute, and ported away. Sorenson followed.
Color-Sergeant Bourne appeared at Elihu's side. "Trouble, sir?"
Elihu replied, "One of our recruits just interfered with one of our Reapers. Gather up Flight G-12, Color-Sergeant. They are going to attend a lecture which appears to have been omitted from their training. Be ready to deliver them all into the Auditorium at the British Academy upon my command. I will clear the way with the Academicians. The lecture will begin in about two hours. I will administer a test on the subject tomorrow. Any fledgling who does not score perfectly will be sent for retraining and lose all seniority to date."
"Ah. Was that Mister Humphries just now, sir?"
"It was, and right at the end of his temper, too."
"Very good, sir."
Captain Elihu left. Bourne gathered up the worried and confused Flight G-12 and congratulated them on managing to offend a Captain of the London Garrison on their first day out.
"—Listen, you 'orrible little squabs. You ignorant, useless babes. You mannerless ingrates. You know full well that part of your job is to protect our Reapers as they perform their duty. Yet your flightmate just struck a Reaper to the ground. Captain Elihu had to stop him from trying to use his sword and probably getting severely injured. That Reaper's name is Alan Humphries. Remember it. Those switchblades you so proudly carry are his gift to our General, who has shared them with our Army. We will return to your barracks at once. Your knives will be collected. They will be returned to you if and when you have demonstrated that you deserve them."
Flight G-12 shuffled nervously.
"Did I say you could move? I warned you about The Great Scot and the Chainsaw Redhead, Knox the Knife and William T-For-Terrible Spears. They are his friends. Any of them could put your worthless arses in traction for a month. You are all going to hear a lecture from Mister Humphries today, and you will open your impervious cement-stuffed ears to every word. There will be a quiz on the subject tomorrow. If any of you miss a single question it's back to the hatchery with you. There you will labor without your wings until somebody thinks you worthy of a second chance. Captain Elihu has no use for those who cannot be taught. I, however, can think of many miserable assignments for anybody with this incident on his permanent record. Right, you 'orrible lot! To the left! March off!"
Spears looked at his disheveled, limping underling. "Humphries, I believe you are under orders to let your co-Reapers handle demons?"
"This wasn't a demon, sir. A new-minted, under-educated Angel interfered with my reaping. The usual fledgling; strong of arm, fair of face, dumb of ass. Sorenson was coming to help when Captain Elihu intervened. I'll ask Doctor Collins at the Academy if he has a painkiller that won't leave me too stupid to lecture."
"I shall register a formal protest. Interference with an on-duty Reaper is forbidden. Have a full report on my desk tomorrow. But lecture? You are not scheduled to teach today."
"Elihu of the London Garrison commanded me to lecture the entire Flight. Quicker than requesting they be scheduled for class time in their own schools, I suppose, or he's hushing up the deployment of untrained troops who have no notion of their duties. They've been told to fight demons but given no training about Reapers. He'll have them all at the Auditorium in an hour. He wants the standard Ethics lecture. He's getting a review on why Reapers stand neutral between Heaven and Hell, and why demons and angels alike have no say in the disposition of souls. Will, I have to go now. Can you get word to Eric that I'll be late getting home? He worries, and he's a been a little testy lately."
"I will send a message at once. My compliments to Doctor Collins. Tell him I want you fully recovered by your next duty shift."
Alan chuckled at the notion that Collins would pay any attention to Spears' demands where they conflicted with his medical opinion. "Thanks, Will. One more request. May I borrow your Rule Book? The big one, the Book of Law?"
"No! That copy belongs in the Branch. It must never leave my care."
It had been a very long and difficult day. The pain in his back was increasing. Will was about to begin a knee-jerk refusal to cooperate with any suggestion that might benefit angels. Reading from a classroom pamphlet would carry no weight with the Celestials. Alan gave up on being polite.
"Fine. Pick it up and bring it along. Stand by the lectern and hold it while I read. This lecture is for the Angels, not Reapers, and I'm going to base it on a reference book that's available to them. They will go whining to their own instructors. Their instructors will open their copies of this book and read out the words exactly as I have quoted them. They have no reason to trust me. But the Book of Law is not a subject for debate by any but the Highest Ups."
"This is not—"
"Will, if we don't step on this hard, right now, that entire flight of angels will adopt this behavior as their right. As they rise in rank, they will teach it to their subordinates. My attacker tried to judge my Reap and would have executed me for defending myself." Alan went for the jugular. "How do you think he would react to Grell? And how are we to Reap if we must guard against our guardians as well as the demons? The whole system could break down, go back to the way it was in the bad years."
It was a killing blow; Will's entire identity was based on preserving the system, and protecting Grell had been his constant concern since their graduation from the Academy. "One hour, Humphries, at the Academy Auditorium."
The Academy's grapevine was somewhat hampered by class schedules. Nevertheless, word spread quickly among those not confined in classrooms at the time; Humphries of London was going to deliver an Ethics lecture to a flight of Angels in the Auditorium. The current lecturers in all subjects immediately sent their classes to hear the words of a master. The Auditorium quickly filled with students, instructors, anyone off duty who'd been notified by telephone, and Flight G-12.
A murmur ran through the room as a Reaper ported into the center aisle with a cup of coffee in one hand. The older members of the audience whispered to the younger ones. This was not Humphries but his partner, The Great Scot, the feared and fearsome Eric Slingby, Demon Hunter of the Western Front, a renowned combat instructor
Slingby found a seat among a group of Senior Reapers down front. He passed the coffee to another, smaller man in the front row, who received it with gratitude.
A tall dignified Reaper, impeccably dressed, appeared on the stage. He carried a very large book with a dark cover. Another murmur scurried among the Academicians as they recognized the Book of Law. Some of the ranking Angels escorting Flight G-12 also commented.
The tall stern Reaper —surely, thought Flight G-12, this was their lecturer? — laid the Book on the lectern. He opened it up to a page marked with a ribbon. He then tapped the microphone, which proved to be live. He glared into the audience.
Having finished his coffee, a short unremarkable man came up the steps to the stage. He moved stiffly as though in pain; his plain black suit was torn and stained. He appeared to be a Reaper on half-pay, an outpatient resident of the field hospital on the west side of the Academy, working on the auditorium's crew to make ends meet during his recovery. The tall Reaper at the lectern stood aside, although one hand remained on the book.
A teaching assistant ran in from backstage carrying a footstool. She set it behind the lectern, bowed to the Reapers, and hastened down the stairs to sit in the audience. The smaller man winced as he stepped up on the stool. He gripped the podium and raised his eyes —
a frisson ran through the audience—
"Atten-SHUN!"
As one, the angels of Flight G-12 sprang to rigid attention as the command presence of their Color-Sergeant exploded over them.
"Present, arms!" Flight G-12 raised their hands in a sharp salute.
"Order, arms!" Flight G-12 snapped their arms down. Silence, while the Flight absorbed the notion that this shabby little civilian was worthy of a military gesture of respect. The Color-Sergeant nodded to the stage.
The Reaper spoke.
"Flight. I have been requested to instruct you in a subject omitted from your training. At ease. Sit down." Flight G-12 sat, struggling to fit their large frames into seating built to a human scale.
Alan waited for silence. When all was quiet, he began.
"Attend, ye Angels; hear the words of the Book of Law.
"Divine Law 10452-3, subsection A. The Duty of a Reaper...to serve where he is sent. To gather the souls of the dying that are assigned to his care. To extend that service to souls lost and wandering. To stand neutral between Heaven and Hell; to review the life records of each soul; to judge impartially whether granting extended life to a dying human would benefit the Human Realm, not a single tribe or country but the undivided whole; to release the soul into the Light, or to deliver it to the Library, or to an authorized Infernal, as determined by the True Judge.
"Divine Law 10452-3, subsection B, The Duty of an Angel to Defend a Reaper...to ensure the Reaper's safety from demonic attack; to guard, defend and protect...never to interfere, by action or by inaction, in the Reaper's execution of his duty, or permit interference from any other Beings or circumstances...
"Divine Law 10452-3, subsection C, Intent To Impede Or Influence A Reaper's Performance Of His Duty...that no being of any Realm, be it Celestial, Infernal, Human, or Reaper, shall be allowed to interfere with the Reaper's obligation to the souls on his List...That Reapers shall defend themselves and their Reaps against all attackers from any Realm; that Reapers shall join together to defend their own with all force available to them...that those Angels who fail to protect them shall face an Inquiry… transfer, demotion, or exile as Fallen."
Alan closed the Book. Will moved his fingers just in time.
"Hear, ye Angels! These are the Laws of your own kind as well as ours. You were trained to fight demons and sent out to do battle. But your instructors forgot or neglected to teach you this second duty. They left you ignorant of the Law. Yet you can still be punished for breaking it. They have failed your Flight and may have failed others.
"Today one of your Flight interfered with my Reaping. Tomorrow he will face an inquiry. He probably has no idea even now that he has broken a Divine Law. He also doesn't know that I could have called the rest of my shift to my aid. We are not angels, but we are hardened combatants, and there are a lot of us. He could have lost his wings, his sword, his shield, and a great deal more. Your Captain saved him. You cannot count on your Captain being around to save you.
"Spread the word to other new Flights. Be sure they know what you have learned. For your safety as well as ours, remember this simple rule; Protect us, defend us, and never interfere with our work. This is not a request. This is the Law. As your flightmate is about to learn, ignorance of the Law is no excuse.
"Officers, you were given troops who were unready. It was demonstrated today that you cannot assume that any new troops are fully trained. Their performance reflects on your leadership, even if their ignorance is not your fault. When you set new Flights to guard us, make sure they know the rules they are supposed to be following and enforcing. If nothing else, read them this Rule before deployment. It has been printed in pamphlets available in the Bursar's office. Carry a copy with you if necessary. It's less than a page long. It can protect you against future embarrassments."
"Here endeth the lesson."
Alan turned off the microphone. He guided the Book of Law into Spears' arms. Spears gave him the usual glare and vanished with a sharp –zzip. The Color-Sergeant began parading his troops away. As the audience in the auditorium began to thin, Slingby came up to the podium.
"Come, me Light, you're in pain. Let's go home."
"Can't get down," whispered Alan.
"What?"
"Just a minute, please. Is any Angel coming to talk to me?"
"Ah— No. Are you expecting an argument?"
"Maybe. I've reamed them out in front of civilians they thought had no rights or value. I've painted a huge target on their chief of education. I hope they throw their entire arsenal at it. I just want to leave with some dignity, get home, and take the medicine Dr. Collins gave me. But my hip and leg locked up about halfway through Subsection C. Can you help me get off this footstool?"
"Let me move behind you. I'll lift ye down. The podium will hide it. Let go yer death grip on it now. Gently– there. Oh, my. Ye'll never get down the steps. And here comes the Academy bloviator-in-chief to chew over all the things we already know. Hold on. I'm porting us out, protocol be damned." — dzzipt!
Eric unlocked their apartment door and ported them into the kitchen. "Is that a knockout pill he gave ye? One of those ye take when ye're already in bed?"
"Yes." Alan set a pill bottle on the kitchen table. "They have to be taken after food. I missed lunch – and before you start, Collins already scolded me for that, so don't bother."
"I will run ye a tub of the hottest water the building can provide. We'll get you in to soak. While you loosen up, I'll arrange dinner. Any preferences?"
"No. Don't go to the Cafeteria, Will's off-shift and will be ready to rant about – well, everything. He'll tie you up until Grell comes in and drags him off. I really want to get into bed, take my pill, get snowed and not wake up until I have to. Help me undress?"
"When have I ever refused that request, me Light?"
At 18:00, Slingby called the Infirmary. He asked to speak to the doctor on duty. "Me partner Alan Humphries sustained an angelic injury today. He's a patient of Dr. Collins. I need to know if he'll be fit for duty tomorrow. He's taken a pain pill, he's out cold at the moment. There were two pills in the bottle. Don't know how long they last. When does he get the second one? Right, so he's going to sleep through first shift? And most of second shift? Was he reported unfit for duty, then? If they complain, will you defend him? Good. I'll arrange for a minder while I'm on duty."
His next call was to the office. "Sorenson still around? Yes, please. Mitch? A favor to ask. Spears wants a report on what happened with the Angels today. Alan's going to be doped to the eyebrows and unable to come in tomorrow. As you are the only other witness, can you do that report in the morning? I'll take yer duty while you write it up. Thanks. Let me talk to Bradshaw. Brad? Alan's unavailable tomorrow. Please cancel or reschedule whatever's on his docket. Can I talk to Reyes, please…Molly. Ye heard about Alan?… Back, hip and right leg; there's a cracked bone. Will ye come here to mind him for second shift tomorrow while I reap? It's a crossover shift, only six hours. Tell whoever needs to know. Book it as Security duty. I'll be in the office first shift and escort you here before I leave. Bring yer knitting and a book.
"When he wakes he'll be irritable, groggy and restless. With luck he'll doze most of the shift… Yes, his second dose will still be wearing off. Mostly you'll be keeping him home; he'll want to go in to the office. Be logical at him, he hates that when somebody else does it. He's not allowed to port for twenty-four hours after taking the second pill. Don't let anyone else port him. Tell 'em I'll tie their earlobes under their chins in a bowknot if they take him out of the apartment. I'll leave some money so you don't have to expense anything he might need. A nurse will come to check on him at some point. If anybody calls to ask why he's not keeping his appointments, take their names and refer 'em to Doctor Theodore Collins at the Academy…Thank you, Molly. I'll get back and free you as soon as I can."
Alan woke in discomfort at 06:15. Things were better. He was able to get out of bed unassisted and without waking Eric. He was a little, um, a lot, lightheaded. Very carefully, keeping a hand on a wall or the furniture, he visited the bathroom and the kitchen. From long experience, he knew that a fall could leave him helpless on the floor, muscles cramped in most unpleasant ways. The kettle went on the stove. The cabinet provided tea. There was a tin of biscuits, half-full. The next pill was due at, when? 07:00. On a full stomach. The biscuits were not going to do it. He went to the phone and requested the delivery of breakfast from the Cafeteria. He ordered for Eric as well, because Eric was going to fuss a bit before leaving for work, and Alan wanted time to reassure him.
The kettle sang. Alan scoured the teapot, added the leaves and poured. He got down the tea mugs and filled them with boiling water. It was a cold morning, and the tea would cool too quickly if poured into cold crockery. While the teapot steeped, he considered sitting down at the table. Probably a bad idea. He might not be able to get up without help, and the breakfast delivery was coming. On the other hand, the previous pill was wearing off.
Running water told him that Eric was awake. Alan listened as barefoot shuffling returned to the bedroom. There was some grumbling and a pulling-out of drawers. Then the sound of shod feet. Alan dumped the mugs' water into the sink, added milk and poured tea, and gratefully (and carefully) subsided onto his chair.
"How are ye doing, me Light?" Eric sugared his tea generously. "You'll need breakfast."
"Already ordered, a full English for you and a smaller plate for me. I'm better but I'm going to need the next pill. Dratted angels. They shouldn't field half-trained unsocialized adolescents. I hope they don't do anything drastic to that poor kid; after all, they hadn't taught him—"
"He acted like a demon. What he did was uninformed but also vicious. Stupid on several levels, actually, all of which will embarrass his superiors. Unkindness aside, what did he hit you with? Was it a kick?"
Alan thought. "From behind. I was kneeling beside the Reap. Not the flat of his sword, wrong angle. Edge of his shield, maybe. Probably his boot. Malice disguised as indignation, based on the assumption that he was in the right and I couldn't fight back. Fine. I hope they do give him a stiff penalty. Want an angel's tooth to hang on your watch chain? I've one in my jacket pocket."
"I wish ye'd pinned him to his shield with his sword. Where was yer backup?"
"Mitch was right behind me and ready to do damage when Elihu interfered. Two other teams were nearby. Probably just as well it stopped there. Can you get the door? That's breakfast."
Breakfast was good. Eric helped Alan out of his chair and back onto the bed. The pill went down with a last cup of tea. Alan laid back and sighed.
"Will's going to want a report—"
"Mitch will write it. It's all arranged."
"Don't let Will put this on my record as a botched Reap—"
"I'll check, but I don't think you need to fret. He's doing better these days."
"Don' le' me draw too heavily onna bond. I'm fiiiine realleeee whoa zats good shtuff luv you bye…"