Ch 3 Heaven Is Full of Idiots
"You don't understand. I need to speak with God," Aziraphale demanded, but his voice went too high and it sounded more like begging. Which was probably closer to the truth.
"Do you have an appointment?" the angel asked, looking up at him from behind her desk.
"An appointment? With God? Is that a thing I can do? In that case I would like to make an appointment as soon as possible."
"You can't make an appointment with God," she looked at him like he was daft. "God makes an appointment with you. Of course She hasn't made any appointments with anyone yet, but I'll let you know if that changes."
Aziraphale huffed. "But you just asked…I was told an angel like me was needed up here. They are going to destroy the humans. I thought we moved past that."
"But this time we are saving all the good people first. They thought you would like that."
"Well I don't!" The angel behind the desk flinched back. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I thought I was coming up here so I could help the world, not empty it of souls. Cro…people are down there! It's not as simple as good and bad."
"I'm only a rank 29. I just know what they tell me."
"I see," Aziraphale replied, resigned. "Do tell me if I can get a word in with the Almighty."
"I'll add you to the list."
Aziraphale watched them write the number one and his name beside it before turning and making his way back to his office. He thought he saw a flash of light out of the corner of his eye as he retreated, but ultimately ignored it. It was very bright, and his eyes weren't quite used to it yet.
There must be some way to stop this. Crowley had said Jesus was a nice guy; perhaps he could have a chat with him. Of course, being crucified might have changed his whole stance on humans. Still, it was worth a try.
Not for the first time, he wished Crowley was here with him. He could make up a plan, but Crowley was always better at fleshing out the details. Every minute he spent here, it was harder to feel resolute in his decision, but his stubbornness to do what was right was still driving him.
The Metatron was waiting in his office when he returned. He had left his earthly body behind and was once again a giant floating head, bright and shining. It really did take some getting used to.
"I heard you wish to speak to God," he said by way of greeting. "I am Her voice, and if you have any questions about your assignment, you may bring them up with me."
"Are we really reaping all the souls off the Earth just a few years after we decided Armageddon wasn't really the best idea?"
"Is that what we decided?" He lifted a giant eyebrow.
"I thought so," Aziraphale replied. "People, they need more time. They've barely gotten started. Think of all the wonderful things they could do."
"Are you questioning the ineffable plan?"
"How would I know? I don't know what the ineffable plan is."
"That is the point," The Metatron stated simply.
Aziraphale pursed his lips. He hadn't always agreed on how Heaven went about things- the flood, Job, plagues-but he had thought the plan was good and pure. He wasn't sure he still felt that. It was much easier when he didn't question, but those days had passed.
"Why was I brought back to Heaven? How am I to lead?"
"You are to lead the angels, Aziraphale. Go and get God's souls. You will be a fine leader. Oh, I nearly forgot."
There was no movement, since The Metatron had no hand to indicate the miracle, but Aziraphale felt the change. The power that moved into him was new, stronger than what he'd had before. His promotion was complete.
"What if I don't think we should?"
Since the moment The Metatron had entered the bookshop, he'd had an almost familiar friendly way about him. That faltered as he replied, "That would not be advised."
"Right." Aziraphale said, turning away from The Metatron to gather himself. "Perhaps you can just let me know where Jesus is, so we can sit down and coordinate our dates."
When he turned back, he was in the room alone. As he sat back down at his desk, he whispered to himself, "Oh, Crowley, what have I done?"