MF1.0 - 71 - Ice-cream

Stef shook her head as they reappeared. ‘Still not used to that.’ She blinked in the glare of ice-cream parlour’s bright lights. ‘Am I supposed to ask how exactly you knew where to go?’

‘This is the closest open establishment to the Agency.’

She grinned. ‘It’s ok, I’m not gonna laugh at you for liking ice-cream, and I wouldn’t dare think of all the exploitable possibilities that go along with that, and…’ She realised she was talking to herself. She looked to the left and saw him holding the door open.

The clerk gave them a strange look as they approached the counter, then smiled and greeted while she stared at the freezer. She started holding up fingers as she silently counted, whens she ran out of fingers, she grabbed Ryan’s closest hand and used his fingers to continue counting. She looked up at the clerk and slowly listed off each flavour and topping until it culminated into a monstrous sundae. She looked up at Ryan. ‘Was that everything I wanted?’

‘I honestly couldn’t tell you, you weren’t speaking aloud.’

She shrugged. ‘What do you want?’

‘We’re here for you, I don’t want anything.’

She looked to the clerk. ‘And he’ll have a kid’s rocky road.’

A very small container of ice-cream with a small pink spoon pushed into it joined the enourmous sundae. Ryan’s credit card/ID appeared in his hand and he ran it through. She picked up the desserts and took them to the seats in front of the window.

‘Just for your information,’ Ryan said as he sat on the stool beside her. ‘I’m not eating that, I have no need of the sugar or approximations of nutrients that it contains.’

‘Don’t you have some sort of angelic directive to enjoy all the sweet things in life?’

‘I’m not one of the angels from your hidden book, the term is simply applicable.’

She pulled the cherry from the very top of the sundae and ran it through the melting fudge. ‘I have to ask, do you have…?’ She held out her hands out to the side and flapped them.

‘A motor function disorder?’ he asked with a smile.

She pouted. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘Not anymore.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She swallowed the cherry with a gulp. ‘You’re not like, Lucifer or something, are you?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He shook his head. ‘We take the form that serves us the best. At one point that was to appear as angels like the ones in your book, we’ve been any number of secret organisations and orders. The guise of a government agency has served us well for decades, and will likely continue to do so for a while yet.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘So were you-?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Don’t ask.’ He paused. ‘We are essentially reset every time we move into a new incarnation, we retain facts, knowledge, records, but not our memories.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She took a spoonful of ice-cream. ‘So after the inevitable apocalypse and the world turns into some bad eighties movie and you’re not the narc you are now, you won’t remember me?’ Great Spyder, he tells you something insanely big and you want him to validate your existence. She grimaced. ‘Sorry, forget I asked.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘It’s no evil to want to be remembered.’ He turned to her. ‘You aren’t the only child I’ve rescued. I’ve pulled some from hostage situations, others from collapsing buildings that regular emergency crews couldn’t get to, halfbreed children literally from the hands of Solstice on the borders of their territory. I have saved dozens, if not more.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘You should get a medal.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘It’s part of the job. It is the job. This is what we do. This is why you wear the uniform, even if makes you a target. That wasn’t my point.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She stared at her ice-cream.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘My point was, those that could thanked me at the time, but none of them seemed to remember it afterward - if they did, it didn’t have a profound effect on them. It did on you, and that validates my existence. I am sorry for whatever negative consequences it has brought around, but I do not apologise for being remembered.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘There’s a reason I keep the book hidden away. I went to boarding school. Had to go. The girls there weren’t above going through other people’s stuff. I kept it hidden in the false bottom of the wardrobe. But that’s…only part of it. Mostly, I didn’t want to think about you.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Pardon?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Where were you when Alexandria got broken the second time? Where were you when I was in the car accident? Where were you when-?’ She shook her head. ‘You weren’t a very good guardian angel. What happened when I was a baby was - is - a part of me, but I didn’t want to think about it. Couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t be weak. Couldn’t trust that you were anything more than a dream, so I couldn’t keep wishing that you would come back. Always kept you close though, you and Alexandria, only two people in my life to give a shit about me.’ She paused. ‘And no, I can’t count Frankie, he’s just a needy, demanding bitch.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He put a hand on her shoulder, and this time, she managed not to flinch. ‘Your ice-cream is melting.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Remind me to punch myself about this later, but I don’t care.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘You’re finished already?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Are you mad that you bought twenty bucks of ice-cream that we didn’t eat?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘I’ll take it out of your pay,’ he said with a smile as the world blurred.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">This time, the shift wasn’t so disorientating. She recognised the roof of the Agency immediately. ‘What are we doing up here?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Look at the sky, what do you see?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She expected zeppelins. She expected ghosts. She saw nothing but a few clouds and a dull moon. ‘…nothing?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘What do you hear?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘If it’s the 1812 Overture, I’m out of here.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Listen, please.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She went still and listened. There was breeze, cars, sirens, but above all of that…‘Singing? Who is singing?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘The Lady. She’s singing for the end of the world. It’s the coda. The dirge. She sings every time a world dies, just as her sister dies every time a world is born.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">The singing grew louder. The words of the song weren’t English - she wasn’t even sure they were language at all. She could feel the sounds pushing and pulling on emotional triggers, dredging up old memories and emotions as though it was being heard by her soul. It was the saddest thing she’d ever heard, and at the same time, a celebration of past glories and hope for those that remained.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">The bright glow of the moon dropped away. She looked up, half-expecting it to have disappeared - it was still there, but a red cast had stolen away all of the light. It wasn’t…scientific. It was M-word, it was life, it was…frightening. The red began to congeal, it seemed to get thicker, darker, more solid until it was nothing more than a large rough circle in the centre of the moon’s. It pulsated for a moment, then burst into flame.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She felt the wave of heat and instinctively hid behind Ryan. ‘There’s no need to be afraid,’ he said. ‘It isn’t meant for our world.’ He pulled on her hand. ‘You have to look.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Two sections of flame peeled away from the centre, spread, shook, flapped…

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Oh god…’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">With an explosion, another section pulled away from the centre, a head. A proud, firey head. With a cry, the rest of the body formed.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Tell me that isn’t what I think it is. Or that it is. I don’t know if I’m scared or excited. Which am I?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Likely both. And yes, it’s a phoenix.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">This made her shiver, she clutched Ryan’s arm but managed to keep up the courage to stare at the silhoutted bird. It was beautiful, but it still terrified her.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Red phoenix means death. It is going to burn Dajulveed. Every world dies in the flames of a phoenix.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">With a shriek, the phoenix shot up into the night and disappeared.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘I’m probably supposed to be having profound thoughts, right?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He gave her yet another confused look. ‘You don’t have to, it’s not uncommon though.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She shook her head. ‘I was just thinking how simple my life was a week ago.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Do you want that simplicity back?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘I’m a certified genius, simplicity is boring unless it’s mathematically pleasing.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Is that a “no”?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.’