Avram sat back and looked over his glasses at the two Reapers in his office. "I have read your reports from the Twa Corbies carefully. They agree. Good job, you two. They'll be reviewed by Higher Ups who know things we don't. Now let us consider what Fergilept has told us, by my best guesses. I'm probably pretty close to right on most of this.

"There is a balance that a demon must maintain when repaying a debt. One truth, one half-truth, one lie. All obfuscated by misleading wording. But you did have him in a bind here. He owed you both for rescue and for repeated refusals to expose him to Angelic execution. Yes, that would have itched. He told you of the disruption in Hell; a truth which does not count as repayment. It does neither harm nor good, as we knew that already from the sudden cessation of predation on the battlefields. That was just gossip and venting, which would not have diminished the weight of his obligation – the 'itch' he hated.

"Samuel, you pulled him out of a collapsed trench. At that time you did not recognize him as a demon, but the rescue counts. You did not expose him when you were introduced at the field hospital. That is a debt. Dutch, you protected him in the ambulance, at admission to the hospital, during the hospital stay and when you introduced Sam to him. That's kinder treatment than he would have had from his own species. It probably still confuses him.

"So let us seek the balance. He owes Sam a truth, and Dutch at least two. The greatest of these truths is owed to Dutch, who placed himself and his partner at risk of Angelic retribution.

"The settling of political balances in Hell; we knew that. Doesn't count. Fergilept is ranting. However, during the rant there will be lies of omission, because he has to balance his response to you in a way which will not get him into trouble at home.

"Ravenings will stop; a lie. Ravenings will be smaller, far fewer, and more carefully planned, but they will continue.

"Peaceful interactions for a while, just until they are in a position to escalate. We have already noticed it. It's just a description of Universal Admin's battlefield adjustments, masquerading as a new development. Nothing new there. Still counts as a half-truth because he admits that demonic compliance will be temporary.

"A new disaster. We've known that for years. Admin enforcing compliance on all sides and all departments until it's over; that we didn't know, although the estimable Senior Solway will probably be informed of that pronouncement very soon. A provable truth, probably, because too easily disproved. We'll know by the end of the week. However, this truth is countered because Dutch offered a truth of his own – the rebound of the broken curse. They suspected but did not know. Fergilept has thus received a further kindness from Dutch, and with it an additional obligation.

"This explains the major truth that follows. A major truth, disguised as a minor truth; instructions to pay attention to what Slingby says when he's been reading his newspapers. Fergilept was probably not going to offer this one until he was thrown out of balance by Dutch's truth. Not that Eric is perceptive and shrewd, which we know, but that the Demon Realm has been listening to his predictions for years. How do they hear them? Probably from Branches grumbling about installing upgrades. That's your truth, Sam. He did not intend to give it to you until Dutch cancelled his previous truth.

"Bounty cancelled on Slingby – a lie. Attacks on him are simply too costly. They've run out of demons stupid enough to try for him. Bounty cancelled on Humphries – a great lie, and an attempt to get him to venture out into the open. Sorry, Dutch. Warn ffoulkes that the demons will be watching to see if Alan gets careless. They will take any opportunity. He has allied himself with the Angels far too strongly for a neutral Reaper. A strike at him is a strike at them.

"The bounty on Smithfield – a great truth, extended to Dutch as full repayment of debt. Bounties probably will be extended to other Researchers and Artificers as well. Working through Reapers, against other Reapers, for demonic purposes – another truth, but one long-known and not a part of this payment. Unless this is an obfuscated warning of a new plot already in progress. I think it is. We will need to be vigilant.

"Their ease of infiltration into our Realm is a half-truth. The ease of infiltration into the London Branch is a lie until we start fielding new hires we aren't sure of. Even then it will be difficult. Ease of infiltration into Scythes and Scientific is a matter for the individual departments. Research has already had one such event some years ago. We can only warn them, which you have already done. We shall ask Will to send formal memos. He will escalate this to Madame Administrator, who now oversees all Divisions of London and Bristol.

"Two truths or possibly three, three half-truths, three lies. A copy of this report will go to your superiors and into your files. Very good, boys, very good. Now stay away from demons, if possible, for you have attracted their attention. They know your names."

Reginald Tyler Wayland, rather the worse for a dreadful battlefield shift, had decided to treat himself to a beer at the Coffin Corner. It was a smallish Reaper bar on the outskirts of London, whose major attractions were a jolly barmaid, a fiddler, and an exclusive arrangement with a brewery in the Human Realm. Having availed himself of an Irish Dry Stout, he leaned upon the bar and waited for the screaming inside his head to stop. It faded, slowly. His Reaps were so young, most of them. He'd delivered them all safely, but the echoes took a while to fade. There had been one he would have spared if he could. Unfortunately, the man's body was far beyond his ability to heal, too damaged to sustain extended life. What a waste.

He drank half the beer down quickly. It deserved to be savored. But first, one must be steady.

He sighed as the beer did its work. He became more aware of the solid floor beneath his feet and the conversations around him. He greeted a few friends who were also recovering after a long shift. They all agreed that poison gas was a perfectly vile invention that only the humans could even imagine. The friends decided to play a short game of football and left. Wayland remained, as his right ankle was healing from a twist. He took a seat and paid proper attention to his glass of stout.

"We'll be discharged in a couple of days. I'm thinking of applying to London, they're actively recruiting, but so are many other British and French Branches. I don't want to be posted back to Düsseldorf. They were pretty unpleasant about the Thorns and will stigmatize the survivors. Can anyone tell us about London? I've seen their application forms. They're so very different in their requirements."

"Different in what way?" asked Wayland.

The speaker turned to him. "Are you London?"

"I trained there. I'm stationed near Guildford now." He was running Aldershot, actually, but these folks didn't need to know that. Aldershot was not hiring.

"Is it true that they do not demand overtime during rest shifts?" asked one hopefully.

"Director Spears is said to be a harsh Commander, a martinet, is that true?" asked another.

"Their Personnel Chief is named Slingby. Is that actually the Great Scot, or another by the same name?"

Wayland settled back and let the Londoners answer. My, these folks had come up with some interesting rumors. He pulled out his Death Book to check for local Aldershot Reaps. Nothing today, good. Aldershot was a small town hosting an enormous military base. Most local Reaps were among the townsfolk who were too young, too old or too damaged to be swept into war work. He began making a schedule for the rest of the week. There was always somebody at the Base who was about to fall off a horse at full gallop.

Wayland's brain suddenly caught up with the ongoing conversation.

"And an Elder named Jacobs, they say he knows far too much about the Demonic Realm."

"I heard the Red Reaper beds every new applicant before she will approve them!"

"They say that Slingby is something more than a partner to Humphries…"

"Is there really a Humphries, and where does he hide that he's so seldom seen?"

"He gets special treatment, some say. He only reaps locally, swing shifts, with that monster Sorenson. He scythed an Angel once, so he may be considered too mad for regular duty."

"But Sorenson's gone, transferred to battlefield duty, partnering one of those frightful mannish female Reapers. So who is Humphries' new Reaping partner?"

"Another of London Operations' Security unit. Competent, strong and experienced. But drop that 'frightful female' stuff right now, or you'll be back in Düsseldorf with the rest of the old fogies and fossils."

"Humphries teaches a lot. I had some of his classes years ago. He's really good. Stands up for his students, too, where most instructors don't. If he's Reaping too, one can hardly call it an easy schedule."

"But what are all those other duties he's supposed to have?"

Wayland began taking notes.

To Senior Reaper Eric Slingby, Operations Manager, Academy Instructor and Personnel Chief of London:

Hey, Senpai.

I was decompressing in a local pub tonight when I heard a convo between nine Thorns convalescents and the local Reapers. Most of it was curiosity. They've been approached by London recruiters.

They know it's a far different environment than European Branches; some are afraid they can't cut it, others are worried that they'll have difficulty adjusting. A couple are spreading those nasty rumors invented by competing Branches. One was digging hard for info which is none of his business.

Here's a list of the participants: ….

And these are the two slanderers: ….

The spy I'd like to Reap in the name of public hygiene is F_ S_ from Düsseldorf. By the way, he displayed an unhealthy interest in certain employees of Scythes as well as Collections.

And these are the Reapers they spoke to, none of whom gave any info they shouldn't have...

I've warned my people about talking to nosy strangers in bars, though.

Be aware.

Your most respectful student,

R. Waylan

Acting Assistant Director of Aldershot, isn't that a grand title for a sweeper-up behind horses?

P. S. My very best regards to Alan Senpai

P. P. S. Don't let him out alone, please.