by Barbara Taub
Rag resumed his seat, and they drank their coffee in silence while Gaby tucked the little knife down her shirt and thought about what he’d said. It was true that she had tried to deny her harmonia nature by telling herself that she and Luic would find a way to fit together. But although Rag might be the father of all harmonia, she decided he had to be wrong about this. Following her harmonia gifts had only led to losing the twins and Luic. Not to mention her own death. And how could she pursue justice when she was already in Hell?
Immune as always to undercurrents, Leila changed the subject. “Is my Donor right? Did you actually create the imps?”
“I suppose you could say I started the process.” He shook his head ruefully. “That all happened a long time ago, just when we Fell. I was trying to make something that would assist human miners. I knew I’d only have enough juice left from being an angel to try one more experiment, so I gave it all I had. As far as I can recall, I was going for something like donkeys. Instead, I got Pete. He was a damn cute little guy, only about a foot high, so I made a few more. That’s when the trouble started. Maybe it had something to do with imps’ creation in the expanse of Raqia, but they turned out to be hopelessly speluncaphobic.” He looked at Leila’s face. “Terrified of caves. Combine that with their natural acquisitiveness and short attention spans, and there really wasn’t any way they were going to help human miners.”
Leila looked confused. “What have the imps been doing ever since?”
“There’s no way to make an imp do anything it doesn’t want to do. Might be that last shot of juice from my angel days, but they keep surprising us. Early on, they must have decided they were the wrong size, because one day they all grew another three feet or so. And the handful of imps I made originally weren’t male or female, but somehow there are a lot more imps around now. We don’t know what else imps are capable of, and they certainly aren’t sharing what they’ve found out already.”
Rag took a meditative sip of his cooled coffee. Stepping over to another open lab table, he set his cup on top of what looked like a miniature volcano and pushed the red button on the side. A moment later, he picked up his steaming coffee and returned to the conversation. “Before the war. we used to get a lot of tourists coming to Fallen Court—Nephilim, Watcher Court, even the occasional Angel slumming it. New visitors usually found imps adorable. That is, until they realize imps consider most non-imps to be both stupid and ugly. Plus, imps really don’t see selfless service as an imp virtue.”
Leila took her cup over to the volcano and pushed the blue button on the other side. She picked up the cup and showed Gaby the coffee inside, frozen solid. Meanwhile, Rag had wandered over to look at the coffee grinder. With a faraway look in his eye, he went back to the In Progress book, removed a pen from the desk drawer, and began to write.
Leila looked sadly at her frozen drink. “That’s all we’ll get out of him today. We might as well head back.”
Gaby was thoughtful as they skated back to the warehouse. As usual, imps lined their route to watch. She didn’t think they were adorable, and she certainly had no interest in the imps as friends, but thanks to Pete, Gaby had a high opinion of their intelligence. Making up her mind, she whirled to a stop next to a particularly large group of imps. “How would you like your own set of rollerblades? I’m turning Shipping into a business operation. The Fallen all seem to have plenty of gold stashed away, so I propose to start charging them for sending and delivering their orders. But I need help.”
The imps looked regretfully at the rollerblades but shook their heads. “Don’t work for humans.”
Gaby nodded. “That’s good, because I’m not looking for employees. I want partners, so you’d be working for yourselves. My only interest is to get things organized, but I don’t want to run it forever. Everyone who joins will earn shares and customized rollerblades. I’ll only be in charge until I figure out who can handle it after me. Then I’m out of there.”
With the combined incentives of profit and rollerblades, imps were soon fighting over shares in Fallen Shipping. Gaby was impressed with how well they worked, although the abbreviated imp attention span meant they would occasionally forget where they were going. Also, if any shipments contained chocolate, they ate it.
GABY AND LEILA, Chapter Fifteen
Raqia
If she wasn’t channeling all emotion into being miserable, Gaby would be in love with Fallen Court. Its sloppy, disorganized, loud, endless explosion of beings pursuing an infinite variety of often conflicting interests was the perfect answer to a harmonia’s need to organize.
At first she was surprised to find that both courts, Watcher and Fallen, operated complex economies. As Leila’s “Donor” Ramiel explained, Angels could tap into their Creator when they needed resources. But for the former Angels completing their seventy-seven generations of punishment for Falling, that access was denied. There was barely enough left from their prior angelic karma to form the two Courts in Raqia. The Watchers concentrated on making their Court resemble the Heaven they remembered. But those at Fallen Court were still consumed by projects they wanted to build, experiments they wanted to try, and Earth-based humans they wanted to help. Not only were resources left from their Angelic past not enough, but they needed tools, raw material, and even knowledge only available from humans. Luckily, during the generations of Fallen imprisonment, the humans had developed sophisticated economic systems.
“Most demons loved the idea of using gold to keep score.” Ramiel pulled a small bag from his pocket and poured a golden fistful. His eyes glowed faint red and his voice deepened. “From the humans, we also learned about things you could do with your gold. You can invest it, sell things you make to get more gold, or trade it for things you want. Imps like chocolate, demons like coffee, and even the Watchers have trouble resisting a good book. Basically, we just like the gold itself. But, as you see with Shipping & Receiving, we’re not good at the details.” His fist closed around the coins, their glow reflected in Ramiel’s eyes as his voice growled, “It’s lucky we have you now.” His smile made Gaby back up a step.
Once Shipping was operating smoothly, Gaby quietly moved on to assume more of the Court’s infrastructure. She discovered if she cataloged inventories, ordered replacements, and designed storage systems, she didn’t have a lot of time for thinking about Luic. If she helped Leila with logistics and organization when she decided to start a coffee shop, she wouldn’t have much time for worrying about what was happening to the twins. And best of all, when Raymond mentioned an infinitely vast building full of boxes of unsorted records and receipts, she realized there was enough accounting to keep her from remembering how she had failed Null City. Maybe eternity wouldn’t be so bad.
Leila stopped by most days, usually to complain about how much she missed Thomas. Today she was moaning about still being unable to contact him. Seated in the upstairs office with a view of the vast Shipping floor below, Gaby listened distractedly while she tracked the passage of a group of imps carrying incoming parcels. “What does Ramiel say?”
Leila snorted. “My Donor says with the two Courts suspending diplomatic relations, there isn’t any way for me to get in touch with Thomas. And we’ve still got a century or so to get back to our time before I can see my Mom and Dad again. I think it’s next-thing time.”
“What about your coffee shop? I thought Latte’s Inferno was keeping you pretty busy.”
“Nope. After you set up the inventory process, the place practically runs itself. I’m kind of surprised nobody recognized the potential for caffeine addiction in Fallen Court before now. We have to keep the place open 24/7 just to keep up. And with Pete in charge, your imps are turning into great baristas, especially now that I’ve finally persuaded them to stop spitting in the cups of people who didn’t leave tips. You were right about them being coin-operated, so they’re really into the profit sharing and quarterly bonuses.” She noticed Gaby’s frown and followed her gaze to peer down at the warehouse floor.
“What are those imps doing?”
Gaby eyed the crowd of imps gleefully tearing into a crate addressed to Prince Ramiel. The ruler of the Court of the Fallen adored his chocolate-covered cherries, and he had a tendency to lose it when they disappeared. But no matter how often she reminded her assistants that imps were violently allergic to cherries, they couldn’t resist the chocolate. Gaby shuddered. The only thing worse than seeing a cherry-poisoned imp spewing its guts was having an entire shift of them. Shipping was about to get ugly. Very ugly.
“Let’s talk outside,” Gaby hurriedly suggested, holding the door open for Leila. Gaby didn’t particularly like the featureless expanse that was Raqia, but she enjoyed the chaotic sprawl of the Court skyline. The pearly light suffusing Fallen Court reminded her of overcast days in Seattle. Still, as she stood outside surveying unfinished shacks crowding spectacular feats of architecture and everything in between, she wondered if maybe zoning organization should be her next project.
As the door closed behind them, Leila stopped in front of Gaby. “I don’t want to go outside. I want to go back. And you need to come with me.”
“Back?” Gaby looked doubtfully back at the door to Fallen Shipping. The sound of demonic retching echoed faintly from within.
“No.” Leila turned her away from the door and impatiently paced away from Shipping. “Back. To Earth. We don’t have Thomas or Luic, but we still need to capture the pivot point. I tried to avoid it, but all that got us was more people dead, my boyfriend gone, and the two of us stuck in Hell. You and I don’t know each other all that well yet, but we do know we’re the ones who have to do this. And the only thing I can think of is to live it forward until we find someone in Null City who can send the Metro back to the one day we know all four of us were together: the day Thomas and I left 1891 Seattle and you and Luic arrived there.”
“Leila. I can’t go back. I died.”
“And what’s that about?” Leila grabbed Gaby’s arm and pulled her to a stop. “I’ve been wondering why you ended up on the Metro to Raqia. Nobody is allowed here if they are human. Or dead. You and Luic were human. Well, mostly anyway. As far as I can tell, you led a pretty worthwhile life. You didn’t hurt anybody, and you worked really hard, and you donated to the Sierra Club. You probably even recycled and voted in local elections. Shouldn’t you have ended up in whatever Heaven humans go to? And what about Luic? From what you say, he got drunk, he was greedy, and he slept around. Why didn’t he go to the human’s Hell?”
“I know about Hell.” Gaby felt her painfully constructed citadel of not-thinking start to crack. “My entire existence is planned around trying to forget for even a second how I killed Luic. And how I abandoned my sister and brother. And how I failed all the people in Null City who were counting on me. And maybe all the Gifts as well.”
“Wow.” Leila rolled her eyes. “I never knew you were so important. The fate of the entire world was in your hands and you screwed up? Are you sure you aren’t also responsible for global warming, cancer, and the decline in whale populations?”
Gaby thought it over. “The whales might not be my fault.”
“Well the fact remains: you can’t get into Raqia if you’re human or dead. I think it’s time we had a little chat with my Donor.”
Raymond proved difficult to track down. “He goes to Earth on walkabout,” Leila reported. “I don’t think he wants me to know he likes the women there. A lot.”
They were about to give up when Leila spotted a familiar face. “Sam! Get back here, Stoneface. Don’t even think about pretending you don’t see me.”
Seated in Latte’s Inferno, Gaby tried to chat with Sam while Leila was dragged off to resolve a dispute between imps about the correct pour pattern for the top of a latte. “No, Pete.” Her voice carried faintly back as she walked off with her lead barista. “I’ve told you before the patterns are leaf or heart. Nobody wants to drink a coffee with a penis pattern.”
Leila had doubled the size of Latte’s Inferno twice, but it was always standing room only. Tall, beautiful Fallen and the occasional Nephilim filled the mismatched wooden chairs flanking mellow wood-topped tables. Decorating was minimal. Dark maroon walls held giant chalkboards covered with drawings and ideas for Fallen projects, comments, and suggestions. Those who couldn’t find seats stood between tables and against the walls, cradling cups sporting the Latte’s Inferno logo—a smiling crimson devil surrounded by a ring of words proclaiming Damned Good Coffee. Voices, occasionally accompanied by red-flashing eyes and growls, competed while they exchanged news of their latest projects. Gaby had to raise her voice to be heard over the cacophony. “So what brings you to Fallen Court, Sam?”
“Visiting.”
“Will you be here long?”
“Depends.”
She could see why Leila called him Stoneface, Gaby thought, as her attempts at conversation continued to garner one-word answers. Silence fell. Finally, deepening her voice for dramatic effect, she filled in the empty air for him. “So Gaby, how is Hell working out for you? I hope you’re settling in and making friends. I’ll bet you have a lot of questions for me, though. Of course, I’d be happy to answer any of them. Just feel free to go ahead. Really. I am so glad we had this chance to chat…”
His lips twitched. “Do you have any questions, Gaby?”
Leila rejoined them, carrying the peculiar coffee concoction she favored and Gaby’s regular drip. There was also a glass of hot water for Sam. “Well, I certainly have questions. Hey!” With the ease of long practice, Leila dodged Gaby’s elbow. “I was going to let you go first.”
“As a matter of fact…” Gaby pulled out a thick notebook and flipped through to a dog-eared page. Sam’s eyes widened as he glanced at the upside down list on the table.
“Oh, yeah, I should have warned you.” Leila’s grin was pure evil. “Our Gaby is a list-maker. Get comfortable because this is going to take a while.”
“I find it’s best to ignore her,” Gaby told Sam with dignity. “Item number one. Why am I in Raqia? I am—or at least I was—human. And dead.”
“That one’s easy. You and Luic weren’t supposed to die that day. Someone—and I have a pretty good idea who it was—cheated. I filed a request for reconsideration.” Sam shuddered. “You would not believe the paperwork involved in that one. That’s why you were stuck so long at the Metro station. It was finally approved on the condition that you each be given your choice of Courts.”
“That brings us right to question two.” Gaby put down her pencil and grabbed the edges of the little table in a white knuckled grip. “What happened to Luic?”
Sam sighed. “That’s where it gets tough. I know Luic chose the Watcher Court, and he trained as a Messenger before joining their new militia. Thomas might know more, but from what I heard, Luic has disappeared.”
Gaby’s face was white and her eyes filled with tears. “You mean Luic isn’t dead? I didn’t kill him?”
Sam’s face remained impassive, but his eyes briefly flickered with something that might have been pity. “No.” When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “You both died. Now Luic and you are … something else. For want of a better term, you’re Nephilim made from humans instead of from angels. You’ll live a long time, but you’re not immortal. If you’re killed, you won’t come back to Raqia.”
Gaby closed her notebook. The silence stretched out until broken by an impatient Leila. “So if Gaby isn’t dead anymore, can she leave Raqia?”
“That depends on the Metro.” Sam stood to leave.
Leila brightened. “Sometimes the Metro comes for me even if I don’t have a ticket.”
A crowd of imps approached, clad in Lattes Inferno aprons and caps with embroidered horn holes. Pete, their leader, was carefully balancing a latte. “Wow!” Leila peered at the cup Pete handed her. “That certainly is anatomically correct. Maybe we could try it as a Weekly Special.”
Gaby turned to Leila as they entered the Fallen Court Metro, each carrying a carpetbag s
tuffed with Leila’s 1890s wardrobe. “What did you tell Raymond?”
Leila held up a hand and gave the Metro ticket machine a red-eyed glare. The Conductor closed her eyes and the machine went dark as the turnstile opened. Leila grinned. “I left my Donor a polite note thanking him for the visit and letting him know I helped myself to the stash of gold coins in his desk drawer. Then I told him not only was I leaving Pete in charge of the coffee shop, but the Donor Desk Bank was also financing Pete’s plans to open a Latte’s Inferno branch in Null City’s Metro Station. I told Raymond he could just think of it as nineteen years of child support in a lump sum.”
Gaby smiled nervously. She was worried about trying to return to Earth, but there was no way she was going to miss the attempt. I might see the twins again someday. Even Luic, maybe. Wonder if he would ever forgive me?
Leila held up her carpetbag. “And best of all, you and I are about the same size, so we can share my 1890s wardrobe.” There was a whistle and the Metro pulled in. The train’s signboard read “1990”.
“Hey,” breathed Leila. “Will you look at that?”
Seattle, 1990
Leila and Gaby staggered over to a bench on the Metro platform. Gaby was still shaking. “I thought getting to the past was bad. But they weren’t kidding when they said the Metro isn’t supposed to bring people forward.” The announcement about potential turbulence had come as soon as the doors closed. The rest of the trip was a nauseating series of plunging stops and starts set against a background of screaming brakes and screeching metal. It seemed to go on forever. Gaby lay helplessly across the seat with the “Mind the Gap” bags at hand. Even Leila was pale and shaken.
When Gaby recovered enough to make it up the stairs, they emerged onto the streets of a Seattle neither of them recognized. “Leila,” Gaby whispered. “Connor and Carey are alive here somewhere. Of course, they would be older than me at this point.”