"Humphries! Where are you? I want you in the map room at once!"

Eric restrained himself from telling Will to leave Alan the hell alone during his rest shift. "He'll be at home, Will. We're off duty. Leave a message on his desk, or ask Cortland for help." He gathered up his newspapers and changed the subject.

"War's going to be over soon. The German attempt to deal with President Woodrow Wilson failed – they thought they could get easier terms from him. He refused to negotiate with the military dictatorship instead of an elected government. Demanded that the Kaiser abdicate. They rejected that, of course, and decided to keep fighting. But there's a revolution among their sailors, and they are at the end of their soldiers, and everybody's sick, so they will be forced to face reality soon. They'll have to open negotiations with the Allied generals. They'll have to accept terms which they will then blame on their political enemies. Might be an extra-large Death List on the last day."

"Really?" asked Will, distracted from his rant. "Shouldn't they draw their soldiers draw back and wait?"

Eric covered a yawn. "Should. Won't. They've all these artillery shells sitting around. It's easier to fire 'em off than pack 'em up and haul 'em away. Last chance to make a grand gesture, too. It supports political maneuvering at home for both sides. 'Our brave men fought to the last minute' and 'We bombarded the evil enemy into surrender.' Their civilians are sick, weary and ready for a change in government, you see."

"Ah. The generals are worried about their futures in peacetime?"

"Difficult for them, aye. They need to go home as heroes. The end of the war means that the power shifts from the military to the diplomats. Some generals will attempt to go into politics; but the change from command to cooperation is difficult for them. They tend to forget and start barking orders at people who can tell them to go get their own damn coffee. Unless they are setting up or preserving a dictatorship, of course. In many places, the civilian population will be gaining power as the soldiers are discharged. They will want change after years of forced service and hunger. They'll be going into politics too. In Germany there's already a movement to make all citizens equal under the law, abolishing the immunities and privileges of the nobility and aristocracy."

"That's all very well, but most of the officials enforcing that law will be aristocrats or in the pay of aristocrats. It's a nice gesture, I suppose."

"It's supported by anti-monarchial, anti-military political parties who are gaining power there. It's scaring the current management. But, as I've said, I'm off duty. I'm going home. See ye tomorrow, Will."

Slingby found four people in his parlor. Alan was in his reading chair, maintaining that grave expression that meant he had seen a gaping hole in somebody's pet theory. Smitty and Dutch were on the sofa. Sam was in Eric's chair with the reading light trained on his hands.

Smitty rubbed his neatly trimmed red beard. "It works. It does not harm Reapers, and it poisons demons. It's a contact poison; it only affects a demon if they touch a Reaper's skin. It provides evidence of assault, which is forbidden by various truces, treaties and Laws."

"Any report on the current condition of the demon?"

Sam, whose eyesight was slightly better than his partner's, was sewing up the tear in Dutch's glove. "We dropped by the Twa Corbies to listen last night. We heard a rumor that the demon is very ill. His compatriots are worried about it. If they can't complete their assignments they get demoted down to a little knot of malice. Takes them years to work back up to a coherent form."

Eric laid his newspapers beside his chair. "Hello, everyone. Sorry, Alan, sounds like you'll to have to educate a replacement demon in the Royal London. Any tea left in that pot? I'll rebrew."

He picked up the Brown Betty and went into the kitchen, fired up the kettle, unplugged the phone just in case Will remembered he'd been looking for Alan, and returned to the parlor with the steaming pot and a mug for himself. He set the pot on the low table to steep and fetched in a kitchen chair for himself.

"D'you read all those every day?" asked Dutch, indicating the newspapers. Sam cut off his thread with his Records scissors and attempted to surrender the chair to Eric, who politely waved him back down into his seat.

"I skim them all for information. Most of them are pretty heavily censored. All of them, for instance, are playing down or denying the pandemic. But I can learn from what the governments do and do not permit. If you read papers issued by both sides, the truth is somewhere in the middle. Ye can also learn what's affecting the populace from the advertisements. So, me lads, are ye well? What did the doctor say?"

"We were testing something Smitty's been playing with," said Sam. "We're fine. It's harmless to Reapers and has mostly worn off. Something about us being exposed to scythe metal ever since beginning at the Academy. Smitty thinks it may be useful after some tweaking."

"So ye're going to run about punching demons?" Eric set about filling mugs. He could tell Alan was upset, but not allowing it to show.

"Only if we want to. It's blood-borne. If they claw us, it gets all over them."

"I'm pretty pleased with it so far," said Smitty. "It's a variation on my own levels of contamination. I'm fine, so this lower level won't hurt anybody else. Just a little something to make the demons stand back a bit. It started as a repellant, requested by Supplies, who use it around delivery sites where demons are active. Supplies considers the personal contamination to be beneficial."

Dutch and Eric looked at each other and then looked at Alan expectantly.

"But Supplies personnel do not Reap. What effect does this toxin have on humans?" said Alan.

"Humans? Don't know. Does it matter? You deal with souls, not bodies. You are always gloved – oh. Ah. But that never happens. Does it?"

Alan covered his face with his hands, sighed, and dropped his hands back in his lap.

"Yes. Once, I was commanded to grant time and healing to a Human. Two of them, actually, a woman and her infant. So yes, it is possible, and even occasionally required. It requires the touch of an ungloved hand.

"One might wonder also if this toxicity will inhibit our ability to lend time and strength to each other, as we did when the Thorns curse was broken. I am not saying this new idea is a bad one, Smitty, only that we need to understand and adjust for all its effects. Will we also have to warn the Angels? They and the Fallen originally came from the same stock. The Entity Sandriel has granted some of us a healing touch. Would we poison him if he did that now?"

Smitty gave Alan a grateful look. "That's why I am so pleased you asked us to meet with you, sir. We welcome the hard questions. Thanks. We engineers get a little detached from the more obscure points of Reaping after a decade or two. In its current formulation, the toxicity wears off in three days. My general theory was that we'd treat the defense Reapers. Obviously we'll be revisiting that, as Sam picked up the toxin just from working with Dutch. For now, I'd say that if you needed to grant time to a human, you'd call for somebody who hasn't been exposed for three days. Four days for safety."

"Not enough. Doctor Collins detected it in both these men on the third day. And what might it do to an office Admin, whose exposure to scythe metal is much less?"

"Dosage can be controlled. We did consider the Admins' lower tolerance, sir. The Admins of Supplies have reported no problems. Anybody in Operations feeling off? Sam, Dutch, please ask around."

"I asked Brad," said Dutch. "Nobody went off their tea and crumpets. They never noticed."

Smitty said, "Back to the drawing board, obviously, and with a lot of new questions, that's good. I'll talk to the next set of Angels who come to pick up blades. They'll route me to their medical folks."

"I might have a more direct connection to Raphael's host," said Alan. "But humans? Smitty, it's important; you're right on the edge of defying the Law. This might make us incapable of performing some of our required duties. If so, I can't protect you from the Higher Ups."

"And it's too late to hide it; too many people know," said Eric. "We have to spread a better story, if it's not too late already. We can try to keep it away from Spears. Fortunately, he's completely involved with the pandemic staffing of India right now."

Alan's anger emerged from hiding. "Another thing, Senior Artificer and Engineer Smithfield. You will not experiment on my Reapers again."

"Volunteers only –" began Smitty. Alan cut him off.

"My office staff did not volunteer to be exposed to a highly volatile toxin which appears to spread farther and faster than expected. You could have taken down the whole Branch. We may have fielded two Reapers who were unfit for duty. You have exposed me to an investigation from Judicial for not reporting you immediately."

"Sir, I did not intend to endanger anyone –"

"Duty and the Law demands I should throw you to the wolves right now. Instead, I shall report an accidental and temporary contamination of a Reaper by a Scythes roommate. We can't conceal it completely. Collins' report has already been filed."

Smitty paled. Alan continued.

"This cover-up won't hold forever. I have enemies. Eventually I will be accused of conspiracy to conceal, so agree on your stories now. For instance, this meeting never happened, I know nothing of your project, and both of you are the victims of a simple mishap. Smitty, they may move you to an isolated single room with heavier shielding. Or, they may simply move Dutch out and decree that any roommate you take must be another Scythes employee. Dutch, Sam, tell Scheduling that you are confined to deskwork until cleared by Medical. Call Doctor Collins to make a daily appointment until he finds you completely clean. I will not allow you to Reap until he sends me that notification. Dutch, use that notification to resist being moved into another single room with no neighbors. And never admit that you knowingly came into work after exposure to whatever this is."

"Understood, sir."

"Smithfield, beware of excess enthusiasm and overconfidence. Find out exactly what this toxin does to Reapers, Humans and Angels. Document your findings thoroughly. Report only your conclusions to me. I do not want to know how or where you obtain your evidence. If I am not available, report to Avram. Eric, you and I and Avram will also request screening from Doctor Collins. We are the ones most exposed to Dutch and Sam. Oh, and Brad too. We'll have to ask him to refrain from discussing this over tea."

"Or only to spread our version?" asked Eric.

"No. He's an innocent witness. I won't make him a conspirator."

Standing in the hall outside the apartment door, Smitty said, "Dutch, I'm sorry. I did a stupid thing. I should have talked to Alan before we did any of this."

"I should have thought of the effects on granting time to Humans. It's rare, and I've never seen it, but I should have made the connection. Smitty, we're going to lose him. I need to talk to some people. We've got to minimize this every way we can. You'd better warn the other Engineers that there's a storm coming."

Inside the apartment, Alan said, "I will write my report tomorrow and calm Will down after he reads it. Sooner or later, he is going to find out that I've prevaricated. Not right away, but eventually. Someone will blab or send an anonymous letter. He will make an example of me. If the war is over and the pandemic is manageable – and he's worked hard to make it so – he won't need me anymore. He'll fire me in his rage, and I will leave."

"Me Light—"

"No, Eric, listen. Smitty will be safe enough. Scythes will defend him, especially since his research has yielded a real benefit to Supplies. If he and Dutch insist that they were unaware of an accidental contamination, Dutch should be safe as well. I need to ask Rosine and Chandless if they'll still be willing to hire someone who's been kicked out of his previous Branch and Academy. If not, they will still hire you."

"What, the Academy would fire you over this?"

"They can't have someone on staff who's been expelled by a Branch for covering up a major offense. They'll jump at the chance to get rid of me. I've been adding little truths to my teaching materials. Half the Ethics Department wants to kill me and steal my Field Guide to Demons. The other half wants to kill me and suppress my Field Guide. So yes, I will be sacked. The Field Guide will be seized, expurgated and published under another professor's name."

Eric paused. "Ye're laughing?"

Alan rose and pulled Eric into a hug. "I'm not losing anything I haven't already given up. If Will throws me out, it saves me from having to plan an escape. Frankly, this works better for us. Before Will can cool down, I will pack my duffel, travel to Chandless' Branch and move into the cottage they've offered us. Both Chandless and Rosine are going to love this. They're getting me at least a year early, and nobody is going to be demanding my return. I'll not start teaching regular classes until the next school year begins, but I'll give them my copy of my Field Guide and make myself available for guest lectures. I'll sleep for a week, plan a small garden for next spring, and ease into my Reaping responsibilities. You can bring your teapot and move in anytime you're ready."

"Do not go without me, Alan. If I wait to join you, it gives them the opportunity to track me. Better we leave no trace."

"That may not be possible, though. Will's not above waiting to banish me until you are safely out of the office. We'll plan for that."

Eric took his partner to bed and held him close when the laughter changed to silent sobs, and when the sobs faded into sleep.