Proxy: The Measure of a God

Chapter 1

    
    A MILE ABOVE GROUND HERMES floated in the sky, looking down on the man who had just left the apartment. He was holding the letter Hermes had left on his front door, an amused smirk on his face as he stared off at the wreckage that used to be a city.

    Hermes took a glance at the wreckage as well before placing his pronged helmet back on his head. He had played no small part in the disaster, but this man, Griffin, couldn't have possibly known that.

    Griffin gripped the letter and went back into his apartment, emerging shortly after with a backpack slung across his shoulder. He didn't seem concerned with the origin of the letter or the disaster. With a hungry gleam in his eye, he stalked away.

    As he watched Griffin leave, Hermes took a deep sigh. That man has no idea what he's getting himself into.

***

    ROSALIN WORKED AS A NURSE at Methodist Medical Center hospital. She came from a long line of nurses, all of whom had worked there. Her grandmother had worked at this hospital in the 1960s, a great accomplishment for a black woman at the time.

    Perhaps working was no longer the proper word for what she did; volunteering was closer to the truth, though she hadn't been fired. One week earlier, the city—actually the whole country—had been set upon by tidal waves, tornadoes, earthquakes, and every other natural disaster one could think of plus a few one couldn't. She hadn't been home since; she'd slept in an empty bed upstairs.

    MMC had become a haven for the people of the city, a place for food and medical care. She hoped other hospitals were doing the same. She couldn't contact any of the staff at the other hospitals to coordinate anything, as no one's phone had any coverage. With the exception of a few radio stations, people no longer had a way to contact one another unless they were face-to-face. She also had her hands too full to drive over there, and she doubted her car still worked. Hell, it's probably been blown away, she thought.

    When doing volunteer work in Africa, she had noticed how much nicer foreign people who had less were. Ever since the disaster, she noticed the same thing here—strangers smiling and hugging one another. Even the kitchen workers, who had been signing a petition for a pay raise, were gladly making breakfast and sandwiches all day for free for people who had lost their homes. People genuinely listened to one another talk instead of finding something to look at online that they barely cared about. Friends made in person would always matter more than friends made through cyberspace. She knew she should feel guilty for noticing a good thing to come from a nationwide disaster, but she didn't. Maybe the world's better off this way.

    It hadn't been made official, but the staff had generally looked to Rosalin to settle matters ever since the disaster. She was glad everyone considered her able to handle matters quickly and efficiently.

    Just as she began wiping down an ER bed, Rosalin felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to an overweight blonde nurse. "Yes, Nicky?"

    "I lost my key card!" Nicky answered in a hushed but panicked voice.

    Rosalin saw that Nicky's card was indeed missing from its clip. "Any idea where it went?"

    Nicky shook her head. "The only other place I went to is the lobby, but everyone there said they haven't seen it."

    "I'm sure it'll turn up. Let me know when it does."

    Nicky nodded and walked off to check every room in the ER for her card. Rosalin felt bad for her. Other nurses often bullied Nicky about her weight. Rosalin knew making fun of someone was not the way to encourage them to make better decisions.