Chapter 26 - Apprentices, Part 1
Crowley went to rock concerts; fascinated by a race that could have huge, festive gatherings and make joyous music about being miserable. He sometimes took Eric with him. As Hell's whipping boy, Eric deserved the kind of mercy Crowley could get away with – the catharsis of the mosh pit was good for him, once Crowley convinced him that the purpose was not to kill the other people. Crowley did not mingle, he usually sat up high, taking it all in, and sometimes drifting into reflective thoughts. "Berlioz would have loved this, once he got over the fact that people were moving around during the music. Mozart probably has a rock opera ready to sneak back to Earth."
"How's this gonna work Crowley?" Eric asked coming up to rest between bands and wolf down a tray of extra spicy nachos. This was part of his orientation to take over as Hell's ambassador to Europe.
Crowley refilled his drink and took a chip from Eric's tray. "You mostly observe and report back to head office. Read the papers, watch the news, and don't rely on social media to find what's going on. Mankind comes up with horrible enough things without us getting involved. Occasionally, they'll want you to meddle or put some pressure on someone to get them to go Dark, but most of the time, that just takes a minor nuisance or two to bring them over." He leaned back in his seat and started using his hands to illustrate his point. "Modern man is very tightly wound and that spring is ready to pop. Most of the time, all it takes is losing power – a dead phone battery, an overnight power outage, a broken signal light and 'pop'. Watch, a loose top on a hot cup of tea….."
Crowley snapped his fingers and the stage power went out. People groaned and in less than three minutes were booing and throwing things at the stage; the band cowered behind their equipment, except for the lead singer who started throwing things back. Five minutes after the power went off, power returned and people resumed their previous behavior in less than a minute. "If I'd let that go for 10 minutes, they'd have rushed the stage and people would be hurt or worse. One mis-directed email could bring it all down." Crowley leaned toward Eric and brought his voice down to a conspiratorial tone. "So make sure anything you do is small and not aimed at a lynchpin. You'll keep Hell happy, and not have to do much 'work' at all."
Eric nodded and smiled, "more time to party. So where do I live? Am I commuting from Down?"
"For now, you've got a small flat two stops from Trafalgar Square. You can practice on the tourists. They usually get puzzled before they get angry, so it's a good way to measure. If it comes to bloodshed or a mob, you've gone too far. Shax has done this job, and I'm not sure she did anything but watch. She'll never admit you're the right demon for the job, but you get to see less of each other, so that's a win-win, eh?"
"It'll feel damn less damned, that's for certain" Eric said. Crowley handed Eric the keys and a non-expiring transit pass. "For now, don't bring anyone back to your flat, and don't go home with them, that's a complication you do NOT want."
Meanwhile, a similar conversation was occurring during intermission at the Royal Albert Hall. Aziraphale was in the box with Muriel and Raph. He was training both of them to take over his duties as Ambassador and assist him with the bigger job of being the Guardian of Humanity.
"It doesn't take much. Find their car keys, move the splash zone, make sure their tea doesn't spill, recharge their phone, or make sure their computer information doesn't disappear when the power goes out. Admittedly, it takes bigger actions to be noticed, but often the small deeds keep their lives from tipping over. The 'last straw' is usually something small placed on top of a bigger pile and almost always involves power or water." Aziraphale waved his hand and a broken light on a step fixed itself before the drink vendor could misstep and dowse the people in the row below. "Now you try. You need to look carefully at first, but eventually, it'll be second nature".
Muriel saw a woman about to knock her purse off the ledge and nudged it a few inches back to safety. "Mission accomplished!" She said, with a beaming smile. "Excellent!" Aziraphale beamed back.
Raph saw a couple arguing and waved his hand. A few moments later they were holding hands. "I changed the intermission music to their favorite song", he explained. Aziraphale smiled with a twinkle, "Very nice! Quite romantic, but don't get too personal with everyone, look for more mundane things. Simple is better."
He turned back to the stage, as intermission was ending. He waved, and their drinks refilled. "After the concert, we'll show Raph his studio apartment above the coffee shop, and then return to the book shop for a nightcap." He peered at the stage and flicked his hand towards the violin section. "And I usually repair a peg or two on the string instruments, because we can't have them going flat on Vivaldi, can we?