Radicle (Terminal trilogy #2, can stand alone)

Should be familiar

Tecie woke me up the next morning.

"Another morning, another suspicious card. I thought your afternoon with Moll had gone, what were your words again? 'Displeasingly.' Why is she calling you again?"

"It's not her. Shared acquaintance. Please leave the room while I pray."

She made a sort of fed-up hmph noise, and I knew I couldn't ignore her for much longer. But for now, I went through my morning routine of exercise and prayer. Only then did I reward myself with reading the card.

'Got a job for you. Meet me at Red Thirty, eight AM. Bring your old clothes.' It read. Again, it was signed with an elaborate SB.

I found Tecie preparing breakfast on the floor of her bedroom. "Now where are you going?"

"A place called Red Thirty."

"That was a sarcastic question. You have work."

"This is more important." My time with Moll had gone poorly, but I still owed favor to Stacy Baruth.

"You're not happy to be here, are you?"

"I'm in Hell. I'm disgusted by everything and everyone I see. I hate this place."

I felt like Tecie wanted to object, perhaps feeling hurt that I could hate something about her. But what she didn't understand- and wouldn't, considering I wasn't going to explain it to her- was that I only hated her passively. I hated her, yes. But I wasn't very dedicated to this hatred, and indeed, it was mostly rooted in a sort of specific hatred against all of her kind. Not quite her in particular.

She frowned sadly. What was she expecting of me? Why did she always look at me with so much hope?

I didn't know what Red Thirty was. I didn't know where it was either. But I wasn't about to ask Tecie for help. I left the apartment, wearing my angelic clothes under my new long-coat. But a minute later, I heard the door open and close again- she was going to follow me.

So be it. Whatever. I did not particularly mind.

It only took a single question for a passerby to direct me to Red Thirty, which ended up being a rather clean looking diner on the corner of two streets. Tecie waited outside, again. For someone so certain I had to maintain a job, she sure seemed to lack one.

Stacy Baruth sat at the very back with a couple dishes of food. At first I thought they were all for him, him being a rather large man and all, but he pushed two plates towards me as I sat down.

"You're late. Nice hair. You look like a clown."

"I don't believe in the concept of time. I track every thing as a moment. For example, just a moment ago, I was outside. And just another moment ago, I was in Heaven."

"Late is late. Eat your food. I have work that's tailored perfectly for you."

"Tailored for me?"

"Someone of your kind. A.K.A., the reason I bother having you under my thumb. Angels are a strategic commodity, you know. It's hard to find them. In fact, this is almost exactly the reason I need you for this job- some freak cult happens to worship your kind. And with their numbers growing, I'd love to have someone in control of it."

"Explain more."

"I thought I had said enough. And yet, I'm not surprised. Look, you make a grand entrance and claim divinity. Within minutes you'll have them licking your fucking feet. They're that kind of people. Normally I'd give them a wide berth, but they have a sort of double job going on. A cult and a gang of revolutionaries. Best to keep an inside eye on them. Or, thanks to your existence, rule them."

"What is a cult?"

"What, you want the dictionary definition here? I don't know. It's a group of people who like something or someone a little too much. You'll figure it out. I'll walk you to the base- it's not far from here- and you just walk in and tell them you're an angel. Tell them you've heard their prayers, and that you've come to lead Hell into a brand new age."

"I am an angel. But I can't hear prayers. Or lead."

"Don't worry if you mess up. They're only love you more." Stacy Baruth said. "You got wings, yeah? Show them your wings. Won't even have to talk. They'll bow right down."

I did have wings. But I was uncomfortable with the prospect of showing them to anyone. Wings were sacred to angels. We didn't show them to anyone but our closest friends in private spaces.

"That's... Yes, I mean, I'll do it." I did owe him one, after all. It wasn't really a proposal that he was putting forward. It was an order. And I did enjoy having orders. But Tecie was still lingering outside the window, and I knew this was going to have to wait. "But can it be later? I have work. I'm already late for it, actually."

"What, you got assigned temp work? You sure are taking this assimilation thing seriously. Last I checked, you're living with that Deadchild girl. She's already giving you everything you need, so why bother working? I guess you're trying to 'maintain a cover', but Hell is pathetic with it's security. No one's going to notice anything odd about you."

"I feel like I owe her to enough to go along with whatever she's been trying to do to me."

"And what has she been trying to do to you?"

"I don't know. I think that's kind of the point. She frightens me greatly, in a metaphorical sense, as I could still easily kill her if I had to. But emotionally, I am scared of her. Who does she think she is? Where does she get her authority over Michael? What are her plans for me?"

"Why is she outside the window?" Stacy Baruth asked, clearly mocking my fear. I thanked him for it. I needed to stay in the present.

"I have to go farm for a few hours. I'll be back to run the cult afterwards."

"I don't appreciate having my appointments rearranged without my secretary's knowledge, you know. This will require another favor on your part."

"It's okay." I told him, and I got up. "You can find me-"

"I can always find you. Just go."

And I did.

Tecie stood outside the door. I don't think she understood what I had just done for her, digging myself deeper into the pit with Stacy Baruth just to appease her. All she looked was irate.

"Why would you even want to sit a foot away from Stacy Baruth, let alone speak to him? He's the scummiest guy I've ever seen."

"I accept him. He is forthright, and forward."

"He's trash. You'll see it too, soon enough."

She didn't ask me what I had talked about with him, nor did she bother mentioning how I was heading to work. By the time she guided me to the doors of a large elevator, I had to question if she even appreciated what had just transpired. She instead seemed just as intimately distant as ever, shaking my hand before sending me on my way and reminding with a whisper of my new name as I turned my back.