The Uncertainty of Death

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The Uncertainty of Death Page 9

by Y. K. Greene


  “Yeah,” he said coming back around the counter. “I thought I startled you so much you popped right out of the room. Stay right there.”

  He trotted out of the kitchen and she watched him from the stool, feet still off the ground. He thought he had scared her? She smiled, no one had ever worried about scaring her before, though it seemed a near constant worry to her. Especially now that she could not change her face, she reached up and poked herself in the forehead wondering if it had changed since she had last checked. But the evidence in her fingers was probably enough, they still seemed the same, white and slender with just a hint of rose under the nails and at each knuckle.

  “Here,” Leo said, startling her from herself. “I stuck them in the washing machine when you passed out. But I think that did more harm than good.”

  He held up what appeared to be little slips of black rags, but as he shook them out she could see the few seams that had survived and make out a pocket on what had been her jacket. He pooled the jackets remains in her lap and dropped the skirt on top of it.

  “Wanna go into the living room?”

  “I am not sure that is wise,” she said trying to juggle the piles of clothing in her lap. All that fabric seemed slightly slippery on top of her robe and she was having a hard time holding onto all of it.

  “Don’t worry I’ll carry you so you won’t get jerked out of here.” Before she could protest he was lifting her off of the stool and bringing her into the living room. “Next time you pop in I won’t make such a big deal of you following me through every room. The whole disappearing thing is really freaky.”

  “Is it worse than the sudden appearances?”

  “Well, I gotta admit finding a beautiful woman lying in my bed does have its appeal.” He said, lowering her onto the couch. He gave her a considering look, before going on, “I don’t suppose I could convince you to call ahead or anything.”

  “Call?”

  “Please don’t tell me you don’t know how to use a phone.” Mitei felt a curious warmth rise to her face and raised a hand to touch a cheek. “You’re blushing; I suppose that means you really don’t know how to use one.”

  “Blushing?” She said, filing the feeling away along with hungry and tired. “I know what a phone is. I know how to use one, but I do not usually have the opportunity to get to one and I cannot give anyone advance warning.”

  “Figured,” he said and sighed, “but I thought I’d ask. You could try getting a cell phone and keeping it in your robe though. That would at least solve the problem of getting to one.”

  “Oh! I left my shoes in the kitchen.”

  Leo got up and went for them and Mitei stretched her legs out on the couch. A cell phone? That would definitely make some of the people in the Tokyo office happy at least. Maybe she could hang those little pendant things on it. She put her head in her hands for a moment, so much to keep up with and it never ended, she never seemed to catch up and now. Now all of the things she had once been able to count on not needing to really know suddenly seemed to have the utmost importance. Leo returned with her shoes and she smiled at him through her hand. At least she had one friend to help her navigate these new and troubling waters, maybe two if she could only get to Ms. Harper.

  It would be nice, really nice, if that whole day of horrible mistakes could have had such a purpose. Nice to have a few friends of her own that she could relate to candidly. But, as Leo sat down beside her and suggested that they play a game of chess, she had a bad feeling that despite how well things seemed to be going right now; her personal comfort and happiness was not the proper end to this equation. If nothing else these two were still decidedly human, though they had not died early when she had first found them they would die eventually, leaving her friendless again at the very least. Still, for the moment it was nice to sit down with someone she was not paying and play an innocent game that they did not believe their life rested on.

  ***

  Leslie sat at her ease in the living room, Snapper’s head in her lap, sipping from a steaming mug while idly patting the dog’s head. That little country bumpkin was still asleep in one of her guest rooms, though it was pushing well towards midafternoon. If I’d known she was such a light weight I wouldn’t have wasted the good pills on her. She’d only intended the girl to sleep through the usual morning meeting. As things were now it was becoming more and more likely that she wouldn’t be able to get all of the information she wanted out of the little urchin before Death returned to whisk her away forcibly.

  Thankfully the woman was too dense to realize that the only way Jules could still be sleeping was if Leslie had drugged her. Still, she put her cup down and stood up, displacing her dog, that immediately rose to follow at her heels. Though she was enjoying the morning in seeming leisure, none of this would do. She’d just have to shake the girl awake if she had to. Even if she was still groggy, she should be capable of cracking an eye at this point at least. Might even be for the best if Jules was still asleep, because then Leslie wouldn’t have to be gentle with her questions.

  The door to the occupied guest room was cracked open already from her previous trips to check on the girl. A quick peek inside revealed Ms. Harper, sprawled across the entire double bed. Leslie only needed to wait a moment to hear the telltale strains of a slight snore. One more thing to not worry about then, the bumpkin hadn’t O.D.’d on the stuff either.

  Leslie pulled the door wider and moved silently into the room, Snappy pushed past her and moved up to the side of the bed sniffing at the limp figure there. Briefly Leslie considered leaving him outside the door and closing it, but the possibility that he’d bark from outside the door and wake her target was greater than the likelihood that he would bite the prone and apparently harmless girl while she was with them, so she let him stay and chose a position beside the girl on the edge of the bed. From here she could keep an eye on the dog, the door and the girl at once. She didn’t think there was anyone else in the apartment right now, but that was no guarantee that Death couldn’t pop in at a bad moment.

  She reached over and grabbed Ms. Harper’s shoulder, turning away from the door for a moment so she could shake the girl, gently, gently, “Jules dear, are you still asleep?”

  There was no response for the longest moment and Leslie began to worry that the child was indeed too far under still to communicate with her yet.

  Then, “’m sleepy…”

  “That’s alright dear,” maybe we can get somewhere with this. “I’ll let you sleep as long as you want, but first I need you to answer some questions for me. Can you do that?”

  “What?”

  “When did you meet Death?”

  “Death?”

  Leslie frowned, sitting up and glancing back at the door. It might be easier to be direct while the bumpkin slept, but she was even denser now than Leslie would have expected from her when she was fully awake. She sighed, there’s always a trade off. “Mitei dear, when did you meet Mitei?”

  “I fell.” Ms. Harper’s sleeping form tensed and she raised a hand to wipe her face in her sleep, “Mitei was there when I woke up.”

  “Did she say anything to you?”

  “Said, I was bleeding to death.” This time she rolled over onto her back then relaxed there and smiled in her sleep, “but I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Didn’t,” she said.

  Leslie took a moment to think, reaching for Snappers alert head and scratching him behind one perfectly sculpted ear. Her fingers played with the delicate line of scar tissue at the edge of his ear as she pondered this little gem and let Ms. Harper slip back into a deeper level of sleep. Of course there was something unusual about the bumpkin; Death hadn’t brought in recruits personally since long before anyone still livings memory. Death hadn’t done a great many things in living memory that she’d suddenly started indulging in.

  “Why didn’t you die?”

  “Healed,” The question had been a whisper of half fo
rmed thought and the answer only confused the issue more. Healed?

  “How were you healed?”

  “Cold fire.”

  “What is cold fire?”

  “Hurt,” Ms. Harper frowned in her sleep. “Cold fire.”

  Leslie got up from the bed then, she wasn’t getting anywhere with this last bit of information. But she’d already gathered a good bit more than what she’d been expecting. She paused at the doorway to look back on Ms. Harper’s sleeping form, a few more minutes and then she’d wake the girl up and shovel coffee and food down her, get the bumpkin up and out of here before Death came back looking for her.

  Shutting the door firmly behind her and Snapper she made her way towards her library. The one in her apartment was small and spare compared to the one that Death kept on her floor. It did have the advantage of being very specialized while Death’s library seemed the usual mix of every subject under the sun. Where Death kept a mixture of company records, reference materials, how to books, classical literature and popular fiction, Leslie kept just three things in her library. Company records, Death mythology and books on sorcery.

  Even with such a dedicated selection her library was still one of the largest rooms in her apartment. The company records didn’t even make up a full half of the books she kept here. Those books were both dry and spare, only the most dedicated of historians could find anything of true interest in their dusty tomes. Some would probably be terribly hard pressed to figure out exactly what the company did just from them alone. But where the official records usually left a lot to the imagination, she’d supplemented the library with personal journals from as many of the past employees as she’d been able to find. As secretive as the company was, as strict as the contracts regarding employment in it were, there seemed to always be a handful of people who kept diaries of their time working within it.

  At first this had surprised her terribly, so she’d researched it a bit more, getting hold of copies of older employee contracts as well as getting out her copy of her own. If anything the regulations regarding the company during its first few years had been even stricter than they were now. Though there hadn’t been any regulations about keeping private journals there had been regulations of keeping outside documentation about the company. Still there were journals to be found, if you had the company records and knew the right names, the right people to contact and had the proper amounts of money, you could find journals going back to the very first days of the company. And these were the good ones, the ones full of Death’s first few foibles and the ones that had driven her to the state that Leslie knew best.

  It was in the journals that Leslie tended to find the most information about both the company and her employer and it had been the accidental finding of one such journal in her early days at the company that had helped catapult her up the ranks here. But as useful as the journals had been and would continue to be she doubted she’d find information about this ‘cold fire,’ though she knew that they’d have plenty of information about when Death had last brought in new recruits herself.

  She sighed looking around herself at the book lined walls. This was going to mean a lot of reading and digging. None of which she really had the time for now. There was still that bumpkin to get up, on her feet and out of Leslie’s door. Instead of searching her selves she went to the table in the center of the room and pulled a book off the top of the pile there. It was an old book, the title long worn off cover and spine. Inside all the words were in graceful calligraphy and Latin, perfectly safe for reading around the bumpkin even if she wasn’t willing to take the risk of having this particular book lying around her office.

  Book in hand she returned to the living room and picked up the phone there, calling down to the restaurant at the base of the building for a huge breakfast.

  ***

  Back at the Philadelphia office after an afternoon spent playing chess with Leo. He had nearly gotten her, but Mitei had managed to hold her own long enough to take her leave peaceably without her secret shame being exposed. She sighed; letting the scraps of cloth she was still holding slip to the ground while she shook her robe out and slung it back over her shoulders. The light was fading from her office as the sun started to set outside, she put a hand to her forehead wondering how long this new body could cope with the sudden time changes, and moved to her desk pressing the intercom button.

  “Evening Mitei,” ahh that was quick. “What can I get for you?”

  “Will you just come in here a moment Megan?”

  A moment more and the doors swung open to admit her secretary. Megan had a huge bundle of cloth in her arms; she made her way over to the seating area and dumped them all on a chair motioning for Mitei to come closer as she shook out something. The cloth revealed itself to be a new shirt and as Mitei drew closer she began to make out the telltale signs of pockets and seams that revealed the pile to be more clothes as well.

  “Do I really need all of this?”

  Megan just smiled and wiggled the shirt at her a little. Mitei sighed and slipped the comforting weight of the robe off of her shoulders, draping it on the back of a chair.

  “Can’t have you going around in your underwear again now can we?” Megan said and moved back to the door, shutting it as Mitei slipped out of the new suit and into the shirt. “You’re going to need a whole wardrobe, in all your offices.”

  Mitei grumbled as she slipped out of her shoes and into a new pleated skirt.

  “Don’t you be grumbling at me,” Megan said, hands on hips a pleased grin on her face. “Most women would be giddy at the opportunity to purchase thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes and shoes.”

  “Most of those women would be getting something fun to wear, or comfortable,” Mitei said. Pulled what looked like a corset out of the pile and held it up before her with a look of despair. “Some of them might even get a mix of both. Why in the world do I need a corset? This body is skinny enough.”

  “It’s only a cincher and you need it because, one it’s fashionable and two it conveys the proper image.” Megan giggled as Mitei started trying to get the contraption on. Taking it out of her hands Megan swung the whole of it over Mitei’s head and pulled it tight against the waist. “It’s got snaps in the back instead of laces for easy in easy out.”

  Mitei sighed and then gasped as she felt the corset being snapped shut behind her, all in all not nearly as bad as the garments she remembered but still not as comfy as some of the new things she had seen. Cottons that felt like butter to the touch and was made into shirts and pants that could be slept in or worn on the street. At least the shirt she was wearing now seemed to be silk.

  “Megan, are you on duty tonight?”

  “Doesn’t matter I figured it would be best if I stayed to keep an eye on your guest.”

  Mitei tried to turn around to meet Megan’s gaze but the other woman had her in a tight grip, “has Roth released her then?”

  “Leslie brought her back to this floor a few hours ago. She’s been growing a bit anxious to see you and be off really. I had her help me pick out a few things for you to help pass the time.” Megan whirled her around with one firm push on the corset. “This was her idea.”

  Mitei made a face and Megan took off for the door laughing. Now that the other woman was not tugging on her, Mitei had to admit that the outfit was not terribly uncomfortable. Not the most comfortable thing she had ever worn but she still had a good range of movement and did not feel like she could not breathe.

  “Oh, she wasn’t supposed to wear that corset with the skirt!”

  Mitei looked up to see Megan close the door behind Ms. Harper who was balancing a full length mirror off the ground. “Does it matter?”

  The other two women exchanged a look.

  “Of course it matters,” Megan said. “Though honestly, I was more concerned with getting you into the corset before you had a chance to refuse to wear it at all.”

  “You wouldn’t have worn it?” Jules said leanin
g the mirror against the couch. “But why not? It’s so cute; I wish I had the money for one of my own.”

  “She probably has some objections because of firsthand knowledge of what the old corsets were like.” Megan said flopping down on the only unoccupied chair. “Or some such.”

  “They were neither cute nor fun.” Mitei said, “and you most certainly never wore the things on the outside of your clothes.”

  The other women broke into laughter and after a moment Mitei joined them. Then Megan was pushing herself off of the chair and heading for the door.

  “Alright you’re back and I’m betting you’re hungry. I’ll get some food stuffs and let you girls chat for a bit.” She said and was out the door before either Mitei or Jules had a chance to voice a protest or an order.

  Jules sighed, “well it looks alright with the skirt. Kinda, but I think you really should try it with the proper pants.” She fished around in the pile on the chair pulling out a pair of gray slacks and shaking them out before Mitei. “I promise they’re extra comfy to make up for the corset.”

  Mitei smiled at the woman and started to slip out of the skirt.

  “Don’t you want some privacy?”

  “Privacy?” Mitei stopped with her hand on the zipper. “My office is private.”

  “I mean do you want me to turn around? Or maybe you’d be more comfortable changing in the bathroom?”

  “Oh. I do not mind you being here while I change.” Mitei said, “however, if it makes you uncomfortable I could change in the bathroom if you would prefer.”

  Jules made an exasperated gesture and then motioned for Mitei to continue while she went over to the chair that Megan had vacated earlier. “Now that you’re finally back I guess we’re supposed to talk, but I’m finding it hard to think of what I want to know.”

  “Probably something along the lines of why did you not die,” Mitei said zipping up the new slacks and walking in front of the mirror. Definitely more comfortable overall then the skirt, the black pants matched the black and white top much better and the corset seemed to bring the whole together in an interesting way. She raised her hands to her chest, Leo had not graced her with a particularly ample bosom but somehow the corset seemed to make it seem fuller, but – “I look a bit like a pirate.”

 

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