By Lisa Timpf
I stood, impressed, in Henri Lokath’s office. So many interesting gadgets!
Henri balanced on a hoverboard, surfing an air current. The artificial breeze ruffled his silver hair. A pair of sleek Virtual Reality goggles masked his eyes.
Beside me, Nightwing, my palomino, nickered. It’s time.
I cleared my throat. “Hello, Henri.”
Henri turned off the machine, stepped off the board, and flipped up his eyewear.
Some people act surprised when Death reveals herself. Henri just grunted. “I figured you’d come. Just… not so soon.” Hands shaking, he placed the goggles on his desk. “Can I ask you something?”
Am I going to heaven, or that other place—that’s what everyone wants to know. “Your destiny is something I can’t disclose.”
“Not that.” Henri waved his hand. “Do you mind if I ask—has it been more difficult for you lately? As the population increases, surely it’s harder to stay on top of things.”
I arched an eyebrow. People usually don’t consider my challenges. “I have logged a lot of overtime lately.”
Why was I dallying? All I needed to do was touch him and—
“Perhaps I can help.” Henri nodded toward Nightwing. “Maybe you could give your steed a rest by switching to a sports car. I could help you optimize your routes using the latest logistics software.”
A quick glance around the room reminded me how entranced I’d been by Henri’s gadget collection. “A new ride, you say?” Nightwing had looked tired the last few days. Perhaps the old girl could use a break. “What do you have in mind?”
***
Back at the office, my staff greeted the idea of innovation with the enthusiasm of an angel asked to stoke the fires of you-know-where.
“You never mentioned a desire for increased efficiency,” my longtime assistant Arda huffed.
“You must admit, the possibilities are interesting.” As I paced around the silver sports car I’d already fallen in love with, I consulted the next-generation data-pad Henri had given me. A notification pinged, providing an excuse to drop the conversation.
“Gotta go.” After jumping into the vehicle, I toggled the stealth setting and sped away.
At my first stop, the need for a change in procedure became clear. The car, unlike Nightwing, wouldn’t be able to follow me up the stairs. No big deal.
At the apartment, the client took longer than normal to recognize me. Eyes narrowed, he asked, “Don’t you ride on a pale horse?”
“Times change.”
“I like horses.”
Not everyone was a fan of progress.
***
“Done in record time. Seventh day in a row.” It was hard not to smirk at Arda, but I managed.
She scowled. “You have a visitor.”
The light leaking around the office door should have warned me, but when I opened it, I had to shield my eyes. “Can you turn it down a notch?”
St. Peter muted his glow just enough to show he’d heard me, but I still had to squint. “Are you doing something different lately?”
“Why do you ask?”
“The clients are anxious. Upset. It’s taking longer to settle them in.”
“Is state of mind part of the contract?”
“No. Just numbers.” He drummed his fingers on my desk. “Something to raise during the next round of contract negotiations.”
That’s not for another century. “Nobody wants to die,” I grumbled.
Unsettled by the visit, I forgot to set the vehicle’s stealth feature at the next call. When I walked out of the building, the car was gone.
But the keys… The pocket of my robe was empty. How could I have been careless enough to leave the keys in the car and leave it visible?
I’d best regroup at base. Maybe Henri could find me a replacement ride.
***
“You’re back.” Arda’s glance flicked to the master tally board, which glowed red.
“Where’s Henri?”
“He’s gone.”
“Where?”
“Dunno.” Arda shrugged. “He jammed the frequency.”
“To do that, he’d need to…” Henri had been eager to learn about all aspects of our operation. I’d figured he wanted to help. Now a different explanation presented itself.
If he sells his knowledge to others—
Hundreds of people, thousands, could escape detection.
Nightwing nosed my arm when I entered her stall. Leaning in, I returned the affection.
I’d mistreated her and Arda. I turned toward Arda to apologize.
“Go,” Arda said. “I’ll help if I can.”
A few days ago, I’d have declined her assistance. Now, though? “That would be great.”
***
Nightwing galloped through the streets, her speed up a notch thanks to her rest.
My gull-wing car, its stealth feature still disabled, careened past. Two men sat in the front seats, laughing. Music blared as the vehicle swerved around a slower car. Ignoring the red light, the driver shot the gull-wing through the intersection.
Tires squealed, followed by a thud!
Equipped with foreknowledge, Nightwing arrived on the scene seconds later. I dismounted and knelt beside the pedestrian the vehicle had hit—a silver-haired man. “It’s time, Henri.”
His eyes widened.
“There, now. It’s okay.”
Wish I did this earlier. After I touched Henri, the light faded from his eyes.
***
When confronted, Arda confessed. “Fine. I did call in a favor.”
Henri’s “accident” had the Fates’ convoluted fingerprints all over it. “Thank you.”
Arda’s chest heaved with emotion. “We’re a team. You might remember that once in a while.”
“I got caught up in the glitz of modernizing. But now I realize there’s something steadying about Nightwing. For our clients. And for me.”
Arda patted the horse’s nose. “Henri had some good ideas. Logistics will make routes more efficient.”
She has a point. Nothing is all bad. “I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Clients are waiting.”
I swung up onto Nightwing. “Ready, girl?”
The horse tossed her head, then cantered out the door.
As I rode, my thoughts returned to Henri. Death will not be cheated. He knew that now.
But thanks to him, I’d learned some things too.
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