Chapter X
Good Vibrations

   My numerous trips from one home to another had seriously down sized the amount of things I was carrying with me. Thus, it only took two trips from Zhankiel's to my new apartment to be done with the moving: I was now ready to get settled. For good.
   --- This is a nice cosy place, noticed Zhankiel, while he was helping me at installing a few shelves on the wall. It's not too far from the Academy and from the markets, it's rather quiet but not too boring. Too bad it's that small...
   --- I've seen worse, I retorted, folding my clothes and putting them in a drawer.
   Kirveh was flying around the two rooms, exploring every little corner and never did he try to escape by one of the many round windows. He knew he now belonged to me.
   After he was done, he wished me a good day and headed back home. Poor guy, I thought, he hadn't been alone with his girlfriend for months---I'm sure he had some major catching up to do.
   The house looked empty for now, but I had my decoration plan in head: I deeply wanted to paint some walls in blue, to add a little colour to the otherwise white interior, perhaps get back into calligraphy and paint myself a nice scroll, like I used to do in Altacia. I had some posters from Earth I wanted to hang up: Mivelris never liked movie posters so I had to keep them rolled up in a corner. It was time to open my box of Earth junk, and display some around the apartment.
   The "landlord" was a kind lady who owned many houses in the city: in a quick meeting a few hours before, she indicated me where the nearest post office was, in order to pick up my mail once in a while, as well as the direction for the local commodities, such as the markets, the shops, the restaurants... In fact, I couldn't ask for more. I wanted to turn the smallest room, the one in the back, into a sort of office-library-art room, all in one. I felt like getting back into arts once again: I was getting quite good with inks, and I missed the time I painted, in Altacia.
   --- Kirveh, I called, come here!
   My companion zoomed across the room and landed on my shoulder. I sat down on the floor and opened a can of fruit salad I kept with me for fun: humans sure knew how to make food practical---and tasty. I offered some peaches to Kirveh and ate the rest, thinking about the job Danërael was talking about. Did I have a choice? Seemed not... the papers spoke of a great project involving souls---it was obvious he would need us sooner or later: not anyone could handle souls, as they could get quite difficult to catch and tame. It wasn't that tough when you knew how it worked. In fact, it only took practice. But again, the Academy was still closed, so there were only the ancient graduated---like me---who could do the job.
   A voice was heard at the door.
   --- Ahem, mister Lalsaria?
   Startled, I looked back and got up: it was a "postman", one of those guys who delivered priority mail. I wondered who knew that I changed my address---or who cared about me enough to send me a letter. I thanked the delivery guy, sat back on the floor and checked the envelope: unwritten with the Academy seal...who could it be? I opened it and frowned:

"Dear Saelius,

   I wanted to take the time to personally ask you to consider the job offer at the Academy, as a Guardian Angel. Otherwise, instead of that letter, you would've found a convocation letter that, believe me, allows no argument. In other words, you might say this is an invitation instead of an obligation letter. All Angels who possess the capacity to handle souls---like you---will be contacted and obligated to work at the Academy, on an exciting project, until we have enough workers to assure us that everything will be ready in time. Along with my letter, you'll find the necessary application form, as well as other administrative papers. I'll make it so you have one of the best work environment as possible. Now, doesn't that sound nice?

Yours truly, Headmaster Danërael Mischav.

P.S.: Yui asked me to keep her informed on how you'll be doing, at your new job. So I suggest you be as punctual as possible."

   How nice of him, I thought. I was only a toy, like the rest of the population. The only difference was that he knew my weakness---and took a malicious pleasure at exploiting it.
   As mentioned in his letter, I found some pretty official formularies, with an endless amount of fields to fill up. I sighed and, too lazy to get up, I made a pencil come all the way to me. Might as well get it over with right now, I thought. I also grabbed myself a couple of cushions and started entering personal information and checking boxes and whatnot. Kirveh, bored, laid down on another pillow and fell asleep.

*****

   The next day, I mailed what needed to be mailed and took this moment to shop for some new furniture: I couldn't buy everything at once, so I made a few trips home and back to the shops in order to get myself the heaviest or biggest items first. After almost a day of ceaseless coming and going, I finally had everything I really needed: a cool new suspended chair, some solid hooks and screws, as well as an old hammock I got for almost nothing: the poor salesman didn't even know what it was intended for, so I just said I needed the fabric to patch an old carpet. I fooled him and paid the third of what I should have.
   Thanks to this incredible bargain, I offered myself some pretty cool paper lanterns and a big barrel of top quality hyxémel oil. Tired but satisfied, I headed back home, not forgetting to buy some fruits to fix myself a snack.

*****

   --- How do I look? I asked Kirveh, who did not even turn around to see me.
   I smiled at my reflection and made sure there was nothing stuck between my teeth: today was my appointment at the Academy. I didn't know what to expect but I made sure I looked as good as possible.
   --- I can't bring you along, I said to my pet, you'll have to stay here for the day.
   I put a bowl of water as well as a red apple in his favourite corner of the house and hoped he'd still be there when I come back. I put the necessary forms in my pocket and exited the house. I entered the Academy by the main entrance and I was surprised at how quiet and empty it was: there were no courses anymore, thus the entire middle floors were deserted. The entrance hall was one of the most beautiful places in the Realm: it was all made in white marble with a high dome-shaped roof, decorated with ancient and exquisite silver ornaments. Setting foot in here really made you realise that you were indeed in Heaven. A guide was waiting for me at the top of a majestic staircase, which us students were never allowed to use, except on special occasions like when they had to go the Headmaster's office. Only a few had set foot on the highest floors of the building: they served only for the administration business of the Realm and were strictly forbidden to anyone else than councillors, ministers, teachers and other important people.
   --- Mister Lalsaria, I presume, said the lady while shaking my hand. This way please.
   She was perfectly dressed and acted more like a military officer than a secretary. I followed her into what seemed to be a maze of corridors with magnificent wooden portals which probably hid luxurious conference rooms and offices of some sort. We must've climbed at least three stories before arriving in front of a door that looked like every other door. She took my appointment letter and opened the door.
   Inside was a sort of waiting room with couches and low tables. There were a few familiar faces in the lot, including a co-worker called Ovanda, who was nervously playing with the border of her shirt. I sat down beside her: she looked relieved to see me.
   --- Malkeb Saelius, how are you doing?
   --- Not too bad, I said. Do you have any idea why we're here?
   She shrugged and lowered her voice to say:
   --- I'm not sure... but from what I heard, only a few Guardian Angels were asked to come here. The rest were sent directly downstairs, in the labs, to get a training of some sort. This must mean we'll have another task... The entire gang is down there, as well as a bunch of other guys from all over the Realm. They contacted Jilankev first, because they have a better soul ratio than Des'Falso and Frasvin. I'm glad to see you, Saelius... I was getting awfully anxious.
   --- Don't worry, I said. If the gang's there, it'll be okay. I mean, at least we know each other. Sure is weird to be back in the Academy though... I feel as if I'm going back to my advanced language course, you know, on the sixth floor?
   She laughed and told me:
   --- I hated the teacher. She was such a bore.
   A door opened on the right of the room and an Angel got out, holding a blue letter in his hand. He eyed us anxiously and exited the waiting room. Ovanda and me looked at each other and when my name was called, she wished me good luck and gave me a thumb up. I smiled and entered the small office, where an important looking Angel was seated at a desk, with perfectly folded piles of paper. He put on his glasses and invited me to sit down.
   --- Ah, mister Lalsaria, he stated, we were eager to see you. Mister Mischav spoke dearly of you.
   --- That's nice to know, I said, unsure.
   --- You've been chosen amongst many other Guardian Angels to be one of the many supervisors of the Ophanim's Plan second phase. You see, in order to power up the first attacks, the Nemesis needs an extended amount of power---which, you might have guessed, cannot be provided by the core.
   So Mivelris was right... at least, I knew they were going to leave the city's magical supplies alone. I let the guy talk about the Nemesis and the destruction of the humans as if I agreed with all that; now wasn't the time to speak my opposition against this mad project.
   --- So, instead, the Academy's top scientists made it possible to convert the souls held in Paradise into an acceptable source of power. But they are to be handled specially, and only you Guardian Angels have the skills to do so. You'll work on a team of ten other Angels---perhaps less---and your task will be to inform your superior of your progress at the end of each day. Of course, you'll also have to maintain your team together: the team with the most souls converted at the end of the week gets a monetary supplement.
   I was startled: that was all Danërael could come up with to make his troops work harder---a stupid competition?
   --- Okay, that's great, I said, but does it pay well? I mean, I believe we do not have the choice to be here. Am I wrong?
   He sighed and nodded.
   --- It pays two hundred zalès a week, more if you manage to get work done faster.
   --- Only two hundreds?!
   --- Consider yourself lucky, mister Lalsaria, he retorted with a cold voice, it is more than your co-workers will make. It's up to you to aid them in their work.
   I frowned and he handed me another bunch of papers.    --- Here's the procedures. Read them carefully. If you have any questions, address them at our secretary, at the entrance, she'll gladly answer them.
   I got up, he shook my hand and I exited, giving Ovanda a reassuring look.

*****

   Insane. This was insane. Turning souls into power? What kind of madness was that? Not only did he want to kill all that was alive on that planet, but he wanted to kill what was already dead as well?
   I was heading home when I noticed a couple of mechanics going up, probably returning from work at the core. I asked them if they had seen Mivelris and they pointed down, to another group coming my way. I spotted my former roommate and waved at him.
   --- Hey, Sal, he shouted, what brings you around the Academy?
   --- I had a meeting! Can I talk to you for two seconds?
   He landed on a rooftop and I met him there.
   --- I just came back from an appointment at the Academy, I said. They hired me as some sort of supervisor for a big project. Listen to this: they want to turn souls into energy for the Nemesis.
   --- No way! he gasped. This is just cruel! It reminds me of a story I once read... t'was about some creatures that killed and absorbed the souls of their victims to grow stronger.
   --- Yeah, I think I read it too... published at the beginning of the century, right? The author was a girl... what's her name... I can't remember. It was good though, one of the best Earth novels I read*. In any case, I better get back home or Kirveh will die of starvation.
   I took off while Mivelris was howling:
   --- Who's Kirveh?
   --- A gift from the Angel-Spirit! I shouted back.
   Before turning a corner, I heard Mivelris scream:
   --- You're always full of surprises, mate!

*****

   It was nice actually coming back home for someone---or something. Kirveh rushed up to me and began licking my ear vigorously: I laughed and promised myself I was going to play with him later. I took my rest of the day off to install my suspended chair as well as the few lanterns and lamps I bought. The house was starting to look more and more like a decent one, much at my satisfaction: the atmosphere was quite agreeable now, and all it needed was a few decoration on the walls and such. I was supposed to meet my team the next day, down at the third floor of the Academy, deep down into the core section, just above the city's engine rooms, where Mivelris worked. I wondered what it would be like: it was after all the first time I had an important job in my life and I wasn't so thrilled to be in "charge" of a gang of unknown Angels. What if they didn't like me?
   As if he was aware of my anxiousness, Kirveh squealed and grabbed his ball in his mouth, to take my mind off of those matters.

*****

   I was welcomed at the converting room number seven by an amazing draught of heat. In the back of the immense room with a high, curved ceiling, were standing about six or seven Angels, all much lighter dressed than I was. They were talking to each other, not noticing my arrival. I felt ridiculous with my little pad of paper and my pen, dressed as if I was going to a ceremony: it was kind of silly of me to have put on my best suit---without knowing it.
   There were countless crates of metal, all containing glass tubes that glowed of an eerie bluish light: souls. At the very end of the room stood what seemed to be a furnace of some sort. Various machines and control panels, covered with levers and measuring instruments were scattered near the oven: tons and tons of pipes parted in every direction but all converged into one huge metallic barrel, visibly designed for a harsh use, considering the thickness of the material and the amount of screws on it.
   I landed near the furnace and walked cooly to my new crew: they all stopped talking and stared at me with suspicious eyes.
   --- Um... I started, malkeb to you all. My name's Saelius Lalsaria and I'll be your supervisor.
   --- Yeah. We know, retorted what seemed to be a Principalities Angel with a nasty look in his eyes.
   --- So, where's your whip, mister Lalsaria? Or if you'd preferred to be called "boss"? asked a girl with a ponytail.
   Great, that was a good start, they already hated me. I couldn't blame them though, I would've done the same thing. Me and authority didn't get along that well.
   --- Okay, okay, time out, I said. I have no whip and please, call me Saelius.
   Two guys in the back whispered something to each other and the rest stared at me with eyes that just wanted to see me die. The shift was going to start in a few minutes and we had to move on to the actual work.
   --- So, started an Angel in the back, all we have to do is shove those souls in the oven?
   --- ...Basically, yeah, I babbled.
   A loud siren echoed in the factory and my crew got at their work, unlocking soul tubes and shoving their content in the furnace. While "burning", the souls emitted a sound that was close to a scream. The heat soon became hardly bearable and I was forced to unbutton my shirt. I felt completely stupid and useless, watching them sweat and work like slaves while all I had to do was making sure the measuring stayed in the green. All was going well, other than the fact that the atmosphere was charged with anger and discouragement: none of them wanted to be here, and neither did I. It was just terrible.
   Another siren announced the break. Exhausted and covered with sweat, the workers sat down on the floors and shared the water some had brought. I walked over the energy counter: we were under the quota. Damnit.
   They were talking to each other on a low tone, probably not to be heard by me: I felt like an outcast, like an evil tyrant of some sort. I sat down on a pipe and sighed. A girl with a short haircut noticed me and got up: the guy with the two long braids wrapped in fabric grabbed her arm but she got free, eyeing him evilly. She walked up to me with a grin.
   --- Malkeb, she said.
   --- Malkeb... is there something wrong?
   --- I'd ask you the same, she added, with a smile. You're from Altacia, right?
   I nodded and she offered me some water.
   --- Thanks, I said while forcing myself not to drink the entire bottle.
   She was shorter than I was and wore a very simple dress: her short dark orange hair was soaked with sweat but yet, she managed to smile. I didn't know if she was a freshly graduated or not, but I had never seen her face before. I knew she was from Heaven though, because of, well, her nice manners.
   --- You should take your shirt off, she continued. It's going to get very hot when we attack the fresh souls.
   I laughed and she smiled more. She then asked me why I had the long face.
   --- We're under the quota, I admitted. But I'd hate to make you guys work harder... to tell the truth, I feel like a jerk. I should be working with you, not giving stupid orders.
   --- We'll solve this quota thing. Come on, tell it to the others or we'll never make it in time.
   She grabbed my hand and dragged me all the way to the rest of the group.
   --- No, wait---I protested.
   --- You guys, we have a problem, she said to the gang, still holding my wrist.
   --- Yeah, we know: you're holding it by the hand, said the bread head.
   --- Oh, shut up Malakiel, she retorted.
   He looked at her evilly. I did not like him one bit: he had those menacing dark eyes, and his messy hair tied mostly into two long braids in the back---covered with some sort of bandage---only made me think of him as a criminal of some sort.
   --- What's the problem, Cerjevi? asked another one, this time, seriously.
   She looked at me and put her hand on my shoulder.
   --- The boss will explain.
   I rolled my eyes at the sound of this mostly inappropriate title but went on with my explanation.
   --- We're supposed to produce a certain amount of power but, you see, we're not quite making the sufficient quantity: it could be the souls who're too old---or there's too much time passing by between each feeding of the furnace.
   --- So what, groaned Malakiel. We're working as fast as we can, thank you.
   The break was over and I didn't have the courage to add anything. They went back yo work and I sighed, looking at my progress report.

*****

   The same awfull atmosphere floated in the room for three other days. I figured out it was best for me to keep quiet: the more I talked, the more they hated me. We were very much under the average quota, but I didn't mind anymore. But then again... I watched them work and work, for a salary of pain... Cerjevi was glancing at me sadly once in a while. I had to do something. During the break of the fourth day, I went over to talk to them.
   --- Things aren't going that well, I started. I know you're all doing your best but I believe it's not your fault at all. The souls must be really old, or the system's not functionning properly.
   A blonde girl said that the souls were rather recent, so only the second option was left.
   --- If you're so good, why don't you give us a hand, said Malakiel with a sneer. This time, he was hit on the shoulder by an eccentric-looking Archangel with piercings here and there, on the lips and the eyebrows. The very first syllable he uttered confirmed he was indeed from Jilankev:
   --- C'mon, Mal, leave him alone for Heaven's sake! D'ya think he's any different from us? He's a Guardian Angel as well.
   He then stared at me with a smile.
   --- The furnaces were built hastily, he continued, so their efficiency ain't that high; one of my friends who works at the room number three told me that, since he knew a mechanic that built the converters. What they do is disintegrate the energy and pump it in that big thing, over there. The thing is, in the process, the leftover, inert magic mixes up with the energy and clogs the interior of the recipient, and reduces the space left for the good energy, the one that's gonna be used for the Nemesis.
   There was a long silence.
   --- Wow, said Cerjevi, there's actually a brain in there! You're not as stupid as you look, Jeru!
   --- That's great, I said, but what are we going to do to eliminate this problem?
   Another silence stretch. Everyone was thinking of a solution.
   --- Well, started Malakiel---he was actually helping out?---we all know that souls can't stand each other, right?
   That was one of the first thing we learned at school: never put two souls in contact, or they could become aggressive. They were finally free of their corporal envelope so the last thing they wanted was to be packed with other souls.
   --- So, he continued, if we jam them together, they'll produce enough power---before arriving in the furnace---to destroy the inert magic leftovers clogging the system!
   There was a general cheer but everyone was aware of how dangerous this enterprise was. Moreover, there were only two minutes before the end of the break. There wasn't enough time to experiment this theory but I promised everyone we'd try the next day. The atmosphere was now a little more agreeable, since everyone agreed to work together.

*****

   I was all eager to get to work the next morning: almost everyone had arrived early and it was time to test out our miracle solution.
   --- Okay, here's what we'll do, I suggested. We have to try and stuffing souls into ...something, to see what recipient can take the most pressure. Someone has to stay with me while you guys go to work until we fix this. You'll see, we'll make this stupid quota.
   The siren rang in the room and everyone got to work but this time, they were talking to each other and exchanging orders and recommendations. It was "Jeru" who agreed to stay with me to help out with the soul testing thing: I found out that his real name was Jeruvehel and that he was a very nice and spunky fellow, despise his mostly unusual looks.
   We tried everything: putting it in a metal box, which proved to be the worst idea ever, forcing the souls to stick to each other, which resulted in a blinding explosion and a whole other bunch of stupid experimentation. Finally, Jeru had an idea: why not put them in one of their own glass containers? After all, they were intended for that purpose in the first place. Half an hour later, three tubes broken and dozen of souls escaped, we learned how it worked.
   --- Okay, I'll try a fourth one, he said, forcing the soul in the already jam-packed tube.
   --- Whoa, I'm not sure, it's getting pretty hot... I don't know how long I'll be able to hold it.
   --- Don't worry, I'll be very gentle...
   He opened another tube and the blue cloud of phosphorescent light clang at his fist, under the influence of a special magic only we Guardian Angels knew how to use.
   --- Get ready to close the tube, he said, holding his breath. He quickly plunged his hand into the glass recipient and I immediately screwed the metal cover on it: the interior now shone with a bright white light but the tube was too hot to be taken with bare hands.
   --- Whew, I sighed, this makes five of them in one tube.
   Someone called my name: I walked over to the blonde girl and she pointed a screen with various measures. The big energy collector was almost full so it was time to go empty it: unfortunately, this task took time and paralysed our activities for almost fifteen minutes.
   --- Let's try putting the soul-stew in the oven, to see if it works, suggested Jeruvehel, wrapping the container in a towel.
   --- I'll do it, I said.
   It didn't matter if it exploded in my face: I was the one who allowed this dangerous experiment so I was going to take full responsibility for it. Everyone stepped back as I moved to the very edge of the catwalk leading to the big oven. I ordered Malakiel to get ready to close the door of the furnace and removed the cover of the tube: I was blinded by an intense explosion just before Malakiel pull the lever of the door command.
   I fell on my behind, startled. It took a few seconds before the now very angry souls disintegrated entirely.
   --- It worked, shouted Cerjevi after looking at the readings, the "voltage" increased but the pressure dropped!
   Everyone cheered and was quick to get back to work: I put the soul-stew to side for the day and let my crew continue with their work. We still didn't make our quota at the end of the day but at least, I had a plan for the next morning.

*****

   I was dead beat in the evening, but I didn't get much rest: my supervisor didn't like the fact that we were so below average, but in fact, I knew he was just telling that everyone. I met Ovanda at the main office and she told me she was below the quota as well. They just didn't want to admit that their converters weren't as efficient as they expected so they just blamed the workers for the low performances. I didn't mind because I had found a way to bypass this technical flaw, all thanks to the quick thinking of my team.
   Once home, I let myself fall in the chair, caressing Kirveh behind the ears. I took five minutes to relax and change clothes---the scent of burnt souls wasn't that appealing. I then took a pen and a paper, as well as the schedule and the employee list.
   After almost an hour of scribbling and calculating, I got up and served myself a glass of water. I was doing all this for myself? For a mere two hundred zalès a week?
   No.
   I did it for them, for those guys back at the converting room number seven. I couldn't see how anyone could survive with less money that I made during a week. We had to be the best!
   Surprised by this sudden boost of self-confidence and leadership, I closed my eyes. I had now a complete schedule of the day; I decided it was best to take turns at the various tasks: while two Angels prepared the soul-stew, the others would feed the furnace and it was decided who was going to bring the empty crates to the disposal room. I didn't know if they'd like my plan, but that was the best I could come up with.
   I wanted to know them better. We were going to work together for a while, so it was wise to make the best of it. I had trouble remembering the names, but the few I had talked with seemed pretty nice, except perhaps Malakiel and his bad temper. Cerjevi was always full of energy and Jeruvehel never stopped making jokes-and talking, as a matter of fact. It wasn't such a bad job, after all...

*****

   --- So this is it, I concluded after a brief lecture of the day's plan. If anyone has something to say, speak it now.
   There was a dull silence in the converting room number seven.
   --- Good. So, the first soul cooks will be Cerjevi and Carminiel. The rest of you start feeding the oven, I'll go fetch some fresher souls.
   --- Wait a second.
   I turned around: it was Malakiel who said that.
   --- This is all very good, he continued with an angry look in his eyes, but what if we don't want to participate in this carnage? By working faster, are we not doing what the new government wants us to do? We're helping it!
   There were whispers in the group.
   --- Hold on, hold on, I said, trying to find some arguments. In fact, I agreed totally with what he said. I wanted to run the best team so bad I forgotten what it was all about: the destruction of the human race! The siren announced the beginning of a new day of work. I told the rest to get to work, and I walked over to Malakiel, who refused aiding Danërael in his death campaign.
   --- Listen, I whispered, I hate doing this as well: I hate Danërael, I hate his stupid plan and I hate this place. But... right now, we don't have much of a choice. They all need that money, I need it and so do you.
   Malakiel lowered his dark-coloured eyes and said:
   --- We don't have to do this. Humans can be saved!
   --- I know, Mal, I know.
   He spit on the ground and headed back towards the furnace with a soul in hand. I sighed and exited the room to get some fresher souls.

*****

   The end of the day was near and I was surprised at how well he had done compared to the previous days.
   --- Pressure's rising again, announced Carminiel while checking the measures.
   --- Okay, time for some stew! I yelled, wiping the sweat from off my forehead. Jeru, how much do we have in stock?
   --- Four! shouted he from the back of the room, where we kept our soul-stews hidden.
   I told him to bring two along, so we could fill the battery to the maximum before emptying it out at the collector, in another room. He obeyed and got ready to open the burning hot tube: Cerjevi was standing by, ready to activate the pump and close the door, to avoid Jeruvehel from being burnt by the blast.
   --- At my signal, GO!
   A loud detonation made the machines tremble and the pipes choked a bit before letting go jets of steam.
   --- Pressure's down twenty-four, confirmed Carminiel. But we're fully loaded.
   --- Okay, time to empty this baby out, snickered Jeru, doing the necessary manipulations to get the large metal container off from its support. He disconnected the tons of pipes and we all placed the battery on a large chariot.
   --- I wanna see how we did, said Cerjevi.
   --- Me too, added Malakiel.
   Finally, the entire group was eager to know if we had made the best quota of the day. We all went to the main collector room, eyed by curious workers, probably wondering why we were so happy. The large circular room was filled with machines and thousands of pipes, leading directly to the Nemesis power core. There was a large round sphere in the middle, that gathered magic collected in our batteries: all around it were placed counting stations with transparent pipes leading to the collector.
   There was another team, a little further, eyeing us evilly. I didn't know the supervisor, but he looked determined to beat us: he placed his card in the counter, connected the battery to the station and snickered:
   --- Let's see who'll be going home with the money this week!
   I smiled, placed my card in the printer and watched him open the valve of his container: a blast of energy rushed into the pipe and disappeared in the big metal ball. The machine displayed the amount of magic drained and punched the number on the card, as a proof.
   --- Ha! 653 KU's in one shot, he yelled at us. Beat this!
   It was funny to see my entire team smiling, like that. I knew we had more than this, even if I ignored the official number.
   --- Care to release the valve, boss, asked Jeru with an fake accent.
   --- Oh, no, please do, I insist, I answered, playing his game.
   He barely touched the big metal lever and an enormous jolt of blinding light made its way to the collector, taking everyone in the room by surprise. The engines shook and finally, our battery was empty. The other supervisor was flabbergasted by such a performance and it took a bit longer for the counter to print the result out. I took the card and read it very loudly:
   --- Oh dear, I said sarcastically, only 978 KU's! I'm very ashamed of you, team.
   Trying to hold back laughter, my group lowered their head and said, in unison:
   --- Sorry boss...
   I stared at the other guy with a smile and put my progress car in my pocket, as an ultimate trophy. We all exited the room, laughing and congratulating each other for our marvellous work: even Malakiel was felicitating his co-workers and giving away big slaps in the back. The end of the day was announced by the bell and we all headed back to the converting chamber to put the empty battery back in place.
   --- This soul-stew idea was fantastic, said Jeru in the locker room. We couldn't have done it without your super schedule thing, Saelius.
   Flattered, I buttoned my shirt and untied my hair. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
   --- I want to talk to you, said Malakiel with serious eyes.
   I followed him in an isolated part of the room, and he said on a very soft voice:
   --- Listen, I used to think you were just another one of Danërael's followers, but I was wrong. I know what happened to your parents in Altacia, and I now understand that you can be trusted.
   --- How come...?
   --- You know Nel, your sister's boyfriend? He's my cousin and we write to each other a lot. But that's not what I wanted to talk about.
   I was very intrigued but I let him continue.
   --- You have every right to refuse, due to the circumstances but... would you like to join Heaven's underground rebel movement? You're the type of guy we're looking for, you know, efficient, friendly... and engaged.
   I was flabbergasted: I always wanted to do something against Danërael but never had the guts to get myself involved into anything illegal... but now, with the Nemesis' construction arriving to its end...
   --- We're all a part of it, he added. Cerjevi, that dumbass Jeruvehel and a bunch of other Angels from the Fate Department. I was in the mission, you know, when the Nemesis' material depot was attacked?
   I didn't know what to answer: most members of my team were in fact a part of this dreaded rebel movement, the one that made the headlines at least once a week?
   I sighed and said:
   --- I don't know... let me think about it.
   Malakiel nodded and went back to get changed. To tell the truth, I was scared out of my wits. I didn't want to get killed or anything. I was a coward. The locker room was now almost empty: Jeru and Malakiel were talking near the exit, probably waiting for Cerjevi. That's when my attention was caught by a newspaper someone probably forgot, a little further on a bench. For no reason, I grabbed it and started reading through. But what I saw was beyond my worst expectations:

"The Miracle to launch first Attacks
Heaven Sky City, Lathis 13th, 2017
Virtues Angels from all over the Realm have been invited to Paradise in order to form the first backup squad in prevision of the preliminary attacks on the surface. Only the most powerful candidates will be held as official soldiers, while the others will remain on call for further attacks."

   I did not have to finish the article: my intuition, this super powerful instinct of mine was literally showing me pictures of the orphanage, shots of empty rooms with pencils scattered on the floor.
   They had taken Ismael.
   I threw the paper in the corner of the room and rushed outside. Malakiel and the others were about to leave but I managed to catch him by the arms.
   --- I'll do it.
   He smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and left.

* Wink at Jinx! ;)

© 2003 Cab