Soul Selecta

by Gill McKnight

  She could see him at the far end of the great hall. His presence was so overpowering it saturated the atmosphere like dew. Every atom of him pressed upon the mind until there was room for little else. Zeus had the atypical god-look. He was a big, hulking man with a long white beard. Draped in a toga of snow white finery, he looked well-groomed and wise. His gaze managed to be all knowing even as it bubbled with curiosity. It was his mouth that betrayed him; it was wet, weak, and self-indulgent.

  “Ah, the Soul Selector is here.” His voice boomed across the acres of hall. It felt as if the air was rippling around her. He motioned for her to step forward. Soul Selector took one step on the long journey to his throne and found herself directly before him. It was disconcerting the way his temple bent space. She collected herself and bowed her knee with great dignity. Not knowing his mood, it was best to stick to the strictest protocol.

  “Arise, Soul Selector.” He sounded relaxed and gleeful. Not necessarily a good thing. Zeus’s gleefulness usually came at a cost.

  “My lord,” she muttered and stood upright.

  “I think I have something of yours. Well, a fraction of it, at least.” He gestured to his right and Jesse materialized. She looked confused and a little intimidated. “Well?” He looked at Soul Selector with interest.

  “This is Jesse, my lord. She is a soul mate.”

  “I can see that. But what is she doing running about my Elysian Fields? That is not the place for soul mates. And where is her other half? There’s never one of these things without another one nearby.” He could have been talking about mice.

  “Um. Down on earth, my lord,” Soul Selector tried to placate. “You see, there was a little complication.”

  Zeus clicked his fingers and Death appeared beside her. He had made an extra effort in that he now wore a white tuxedo, but looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, even the Titan marshes.

  “A complication?” Zeus said, looking at Death expectantly.

  “She was not on my list,” Death mumbled into his chest.

  “And yet she managed to die.” Zeus raised a snowy white eyebrow.

  “Sorry. I’ve no idea how it happened.”

  “Indeed. Neither have I, and that’s why I am fascinated. What do you plan to do with her?” For a god who assumed he already knew all the answers, asking a question was a sure sign of trouble. Soul Selector shifted uncomfortably.

  “She’s to be recycled.” The imperious voice rang out seconds before the Goddess of Love popped out of the ether to stand before them. Aphrodite appeared before Zeus, but sensibly one step below the dais his throne rested on. She might be arrogant, but she wasn’t stupid.

  “Recycled? I see.” It was obvious Zeus didn’t. A bad sign, it meant he would burrow his aquiline nose in even deeper.

  “Slushied! She’s to be slushied. Slushied!” Death squeaked, hurling himself toward the edge of hysteria. It had obviously been a long day for him. Soul Selector shrunk back. Aphrodite would be furious at her plans being exposed before her father. Every fault line in the earth’s crust would be ground to pulp, and the planet would go splat.

  “Slushied?” Zeus echoed. Death nodded his head like a manic puppet. Aphrodite seethed, her face a sullen mask of malice.

  “Is this true, daughter dear?” Zeus turned to her.

  Aphrodite shrugged. “A lone soul mate is no use to me. I need the manna-loaded ones. I want to dissolve this one and move on. Time is manna.”

  Zeus seemed to agree with this logic.

  “Hang on,” Jesse spoke up. There was a heartbeat of icy silence throughout the hall. Mortal souls like Jesse did not speak out in the hallowed halls of Olympus. Human souls were more or less invisible; they were tiny, inconsequential things to the workings of the gods. Zeus brightened as if clouds had lifted to reveal a wonderful summer day. He was totally enthralled by the unfolding drama. Soul Selector’s stomach cramped. Zeus was delighted with the distraction Jesse was providing. The last thing she wanted was for Jesse to become his next hobby. Zeus had a habit of losing interest in his toys, abandoning them at the most inopportune moments. Being his protégée was not an enviable position.

  “Hang on,” Jesse repeated. “I’m not alone. I can see my soul mate in the scrying pool.”

  Soul Selector winced. Aphrodite threw her a venomous look, and Zeus gave her a surprised but calculating one. She realized he thought she’d been clever letting Jesse use the pool. Her left eye twitched, and she was mortified. Zeus thought she was winking at him. He winked back.

  “You can actually see your other half?” Zeus asked Jesse. Soul Selector noted glumly that after two millennia of taking hardly any interest in humanity, Zeus was suddenly riveted to this particular specimen.

  “She’s looking for me,” Jesse told him. “Though she doesn’t know she’s doing that. But I do. I can see her down there waiting for me. And if you allow me to be destroyed, then she’ll be waiting forever and that’s not fair.”

  “It is not.” Zeus was indulging her, and that wasn’t good either. “Up here we like stories where love conquers all.”

  Lying old goat. Soul Selector could see blood all over the walls, and if she had any to bleed out, there was no doubt it would be hers.

  “This is my jurisdiction,” Aphrodite said. She was getting angrier by the second but trying to keep it in check. “It’s up to me to decide what to do here, and I need the floor cleared. There are too many loose ends. We need manna not drama.”

  “Aren’t you intrigued she can see her soul mate through the scrying pool?” Zeus asked her.

  “Yes. That intrigues me a lot.” She shot a glance at Soul Selector who did not like the gleam in the goddess’s eye at all. It did not bode well. She began rehearsing an apology for allowing Jesse to get anywhere near her pool.

  “Nevertheless,” Aphrodite continued, “she belongs to my department, and I demand her to be handed over.” The other gods knew what a pain in the ass Zeus’s meddling could be, and Aphrodite was no exception.

  “But I filled out forms.” Soul Selector was shocked to hear her own voice. She sounded like a suicidal sheep bleating in the wilderness. Why, when she’d had no intention of saying a word, was she speaking up now? It was madness. “There are rules,” she added, shocking herself further. Aphrodite did not look happy.

  “Yes. Wools!” Death piped up over her shoulder. She could hear the tip tapping of his spats as he wedged in behind her out of sight.

  Zeus settled more comfortably into his throne. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. It was too late now. He was fully immersed in the little theater playing out before him. Soul Selector would have to follow through with whatever he decided. This was no longer Aphrodite’s call, which might be the only thing in Jesse’s favor.

  “Ah, the rules.” Zeus’s booming voice was leaden with false gravitas. His eyes glittered with whimsy. “We need to think about those.”

  Aphrodite shifted. It was the slightest of movements but enough for Soul Selector to know she was furious. It was always bad news when Zeus’s will was foisted upon another department, but he had the power to do it if he chose to.

  “This soul has arrived unscheduled onto the Celestial Plains.” Aphrodite took one more try at derailing him. “She has somehow warped her earthly path and is now useless.” She shrugged as casually as she could though her eyes were slick with anger. “It happens. Once in a while we get a dud.” She glared at Soul Selector to clarify just who the dud was.

  “But not that often.” Death’s voice came out from under Soul Selector’s armpit. “Jesse’s an anomaly.” He sounded proud of her.

  “And you want to eradicate her because she’s an anomaly?” Zeus asked Aphrodite.

  “It’s the purest solution.” She sneakily appealed to his sense of order. He had a whole universe to keep in line, after all. Anomalies should be the last thing he needed.

  “But the paperwork,” Soul Selector protested. Why couldn’t she just shut up?

  Jesse spoke over h
er. “I didn’t ask to be brought to the Celestial Plains. I was happy with my earthly path until it was ripped out from under me. I want to go back. I want to be with my soul mate.”

  “She can’t go back. Even if we were to reincarnate her, she’d be out of sync with her soul mate. They would never meet up. Best to cut our losses and start again.” Aphrodite addressed Zeus, ignoring Jesse.

  “But we have wools!” Despite his fear, Death emerged from behind her, hanging in there like a trembling terrier. Soul Selector admitted some grudging admiration for his lemming-like advance.

  “Yes. We have to abide by the rules.” She backed him up. He was her only ally. Zeus wrote the rules, so it made sense he’d have to abide by them, too, and make everyone else do the same.

  “This is an extraordinary situation.” Aphrodite hit back.

  “Then it demands an extraordinary solution.” Jesse was no pushover. She was fighting back.

  It was becoming a tug-of-war for Jesse’s soul. Soul Selector was unsure why Aphrodite was so adamant to annihilate her. Okay, so singular soul mates were not the norm, but surely there was somewhere they could stick her until the right time for reincarnation came along. Maybe they could sync her and her soul mate at some future date? Then they could get on with making manna and everyone would be happy.

  “Has this ever happened before?” Soul Selector asked, remembering Aphrodite’s jibe that she had messed up previously. She knew she hadn’t. But if the Celestial collective had come across prematurely deceased souls before, how had they dealt with them? Surely this couldn’t be an unprecedented event.

  Aphrodite went rigid.

  “It can happen, but not that often,” Zeus answered in a vague way that nevertheless brooked no further inquiry. He turned back to Jesse. “So what shall we do about you, my little lost soul?”

  “I want to go back,” she answered immediately.

  “No, she can’t,” Aphrodite said, her patience spent. “I’m putting my departmental seal on this.”

  “What did we do last time we had a rogue soul? Refresh my memory.” Zeus carried on as if she hadn’t spoken, and turned to his administrator.

  Thalia, who had been avidly listening to everything, gripped her clipboard and leaped into action. “We gave them the gift of time, my lord.”

  “What? A watch?” Sometimes Zeus betrayed what an old fool he really was.

  “Time in itself, my lord.” Thalia bowed her head to hide a derisive smile. Soul Selector caught it and was pleased she wasn’t the only one to see through the trumped up godhead. “If the errant soul has eaten anything in the celestial realm then they can stay a designated time,” Thalia said. “That’s what we usually do.”

  “Like Persephone?” Zeus asked.

  “Sort of like Persephone,” Thalia said.

  “Well?” Zeus turned to Soul Selector. “Has she? Surely you gave her something from the orchard of Oblivion? That would be the decent thing to do.”

  “I knew it!” Jesse said. “Obis, my ass.”

  Soul Selector scowled at her, more to cover up her own discomfort than anything. Jesse had not eaten anything from the orchard. She had been too stubborn to, and now they were stuffed. She threw Jesse a baleful look. Jesse stared back in growing alarm, obviously thinking the same thing. They’d fucked up.

  “Well?” Zeus repeated.

  “She ate grass,” Death blurted out. Everyone looked at him and he blushed.

  “Grass? Like a cow?” Zeus frowned. His impatience with the turn in the conversation was evident. “You made her eat grass?” He glared at Soul Selector. Jesse had become a firm favorite.

  “No. Grass stalks, like a bluegrass singer.” Death mimed chewing a stalk of grass.

  “Ah.” Zeus liked this idea. “That counts.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Aphrodite said.

  “Yes, it does,” he boomed and everyone shut up. He turned to Jesse. “How much grass did you eat, dear?”

  Jesse looked disconcerted. “One or two.” She shrugged. “It’s not the kind of thing you count.” Then realizing it could be important, she added, “But I chewed them for a long time and they were very nice.” It was the right answer.

  “I see.” Zeus pretended to mull this over, though it was obvious to all gathered that he’d already made his mind up. Thalia was already writing up a notice on her clipboard.

  “One hard time week,” he declared, focusing on Soul Selector, “to restore your soul mate to where she needs to be.” He smiled, turning benevolently to Jesse. “And if you fail then Aphrodite can do as she wishes.”

  “One week!” Soul Selector said. Seven hard time days was a tight deadline.

  Zeus rose from his throne. He had bestowed his mighty wisdom and now announced his need for a nap. Death stood by blinking liking an owl, uncertain if what had happened was a good or bad thing, and Aphrodite vanished in a puff of discontent that left a stale smell. Only Jesse looked relieved.

  “Follow me, please.” Thalia shooed them toward the exit. Soul Selector could hardly wait to go through it.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Well, that sucked. What use is seven hard days in a place like this? Zeus basically gave us as long as he takes to blow his nose to save her.” Soul Selector grumped.

  “And Aphwodite was mean,” Death said. “Why does she hate Jesse so much?”

  “No idea, but she’s gunning for her.” Soul Selector now had another big problem. Aphrodite knew about her blunders with Jesse, like the pool and the screw-up at the orchard. It made her feel vulnerable. Aphrodite was not a forgiving boss. And to add to the mess, she had inadvertently exposed Aphrodite’s plans to Zeus and his meddling ways. That would never be forgiven.

  “I thought Ewos was going to wet himself,” Death said happily. Their vendetta was well and truly forged.

  “Eros was there?” This surprised Soul Selector. She hadn’t seen him.

  “He was skulking near the back. I only noticed because I was trying to skulk, too.”

  “Why did you think he’d wet himself?”

  “I could see his overactive bladder palpitating before my eyes.” He gave a mock shudder. “He was a bag of nerves. Maybe he’s worried we’ll mention he was shooting at your soul mate to Zeus?”

  Soul Selector shook her head. An audience before Zeus was not the place to air that particular grievance. That could wait until the inevitable showdown with Aphrodite. It might give her a little leverage with the goddess.

  “Where did he go?” she asked. “I suppose he ran off after his mother?”

  “No,” Death said. “He went out that way.” He pointed to an arched gateway near the back. It was shrouded in swirling gray mist, which meant it was low-level security.

  Soul Selector went over for a closer look. “This is easy for you to break through,” she said.

  “No, it isn’t,” Death said. “I need a security clearance and—” Soul Selector placed a hand on his back and shoved him through, following directly on his heels. They were in a narrow dark corridor.

  “Soulie! We’ll get in twouble.”

  “Haven’t you noticed? We’re already in twoub—trouble.” She peered into the mire.

  “You first.” Death squeezed back in behind her and nudged her gently but firmly forward.

  The light was faint, and strands of phosphorus trailed through it like fairy lights. This was a residue of Eros’s divinity. The light trickled from his minuscule wings in a confetti of glitter that sparkled in the gloom. All the gods left phosphorescent traces with various degrees of splendor. The traces were only noticeable in the dark. Some gods blazed like comets and some glowed as subtle as gemstones. This trace was dim because Eros was a twat. Even so, Soul Selector found she could follow it a few cautious steps at a time. The corridor twisted left then right then to the left again. Every few yards, other passages opened up on either side. Only the trickle of light from Eros’s wings guided them.

  “It’s like a maze,” Death whispered. Soul Selector i
gnored him concentrating on the faint light ahead of them.

  “If we meet the Minotaw I’m going to scweem,” he said.

  “What are you afraid of? You’re Death for heaven’s sake.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m bwave. My nerves are shredded, Soulie.”

  “Sh!”

  “What! What is it? A Minotaw?” Death squeaked in her ear. His cold fingers clutched at her arm until it hurt.

  “No! It’s not a Minotaur. I just want you to stop talking,” She shook her arm free. “Hell and damnation!” she cried. Eros had moved too far ahead and his trail had dissipated. They were lost in the darkness

  “It is a Minotaw. I knew it!” Death screamed.

  “No, it isn’t. We’ve lost him.”

  “Who?”

  “Eros. Who else are we following?”

  “I can see him.”

  “You can? How?”

  “Same as ‘no door can stop me.’ It’s a death thing.” He shrugged. “He’s up ahead to the left. Ooh, I can see an exit, Soulie.”

  “Well, seeing as no door can stop you…” Again, Soul Selector pushed him to the fore. He timidly approached a small wooden door at the end of the corridor where he stopped short and turned back to her.

  “Soulie, what if there weally is a Minotaw?”

  Soul Selector sighed and pushed the door open. It was surprisingly heavy for its size and opened slowly. Immediately, the air in the corridor changed. It became hotter, desert hot. A dry wind blew in their faces and stung their eyes. The door swung fully open, and they stood on the edge of an arid landscape where the sky was an ugly tangerine color hung with a blood red sun. The dirt beneath their feet was dry and lime green. The surrounding rocks and boulders were lumpy, molten things in darker shades of green. They sat like huge misshapen toads in the bizarre desertscape.

  “How howid. Where is this place, Soulie?”

  “It’s one of my migraines.”

  “Look.” Death pointed. Eros was poised on the lip of an open crevice. Though the lime green earth crumbled under his feet, he stood rigid with anger glaring downward. His features creased into a nasty scowl. He started yelling, screaming expletives. Then he stooped, picked up a rock, and threw it as hard as he could. He was screaming so loudly Soul Selector could make out most of the words. Something in the hole was “stupid,” and a “loser,” and was getting lots and lots of “fuck yous” heaped upon it. Then the ugly little winged gargoyle stomped off, so up his own ass he didn’t even notice he’d been observed.