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Chapter 67

All the construction workers had left at five, and Kate had finally finished her paperwork at seven. So Jack and Rhea were alone in the small suite of offices, waiting for Mr. Glibbens and hoping he wouldn't mind a ride in the company van.

Jack sat on Kate's desk, drumming his heels against the side, and watched Rhea. Rhea watched the clock, shifted from position to position, stood and paced, sat and sighed.

"Nervous?"

She jumped and glanced over at him, then managed a small grin. "Yeah, I guess I am, a little," she said. "We could fly Morningstar Rising right now if we didn't need to navigate—or breathe—but this may be as close as we get, if someone I never heard of doesn't turn out to be a phony or a fruitcake, and if he likes us, and if he's impressed by what we've done, and if . . ." She waved a hand in the air, indicating a dozen or a hundred other things she'd left unnamed.

"It's that bad, then?"

"Probably worse," Rhea confirmed. "We can't fund another week's work here. I'll be lucky to dodge enough bills to get through two more days." She sighed. "I was hoping to have some brilliant insight here today that would wrap the whole thing up by then, but it just isn't there."

Jack stopped drumming. "Your take on that alternate cable run probably saved at least a day." He paused. "I should have seen that."

Rhea squeezed his hand. "You found a week's worth of shortcuts and streamlining yourself," she said, "It just wasn't possible to find enough."

"Well, then—" Jack sighed. "It's out of our hands." He stood up. "So put it out of your mind, too." He turned on Kate's radio. She had it tuned to a public station, and someone was playing an Artie Shaw record. The clarinet wailed over the solid brass; Jack turned and spun Rhea around in her chair. "Is this dance taken, miss?" he asked.

Rhea laughed. "I thought you said you didn't dance."

"No," he replied, "I just said I didn't know how." He pulled her into his arms and led her off into what he hoped was a foxtrot. At least that was as close as it came to anything he could manage. She tried to match his spirit, but she just wasn't in it.

Jack felt it. He turned off the music and looked into her eyes. "There's more, isn't there? Tell me."

"There's more. I never told you why I came here."

"You were sent during the . . . exchange program . . . I thought. Weren't you?"

"No." She gave him a quick, sly smile. "I managed to insert myself into God's initial transfer without actually being included in the count. For over two years, neither Heaven nor Hell knew I was here. Then, not too long ago, I realized Hell had started looking for me. I'd always planned against that eventuality, but I'd really hoped I'd have more time. The record-keeping demons have been known to misplace files for thousands of years. I was hoping . . ." She stopped and shook her head.

"Thousands of years would have been good," Jack said. "But as long as we know about the problem, we'll deal with it. I de-gremlined my printer. I got rid of those devils with holy water. There aren't many things that good engineering and applied intelligence can't fix. With both of us working together, we'll find a way to outsmart Hell."

He shivered at the hollow, hopeless looks she gave him. "I'd like to think you were right."

"Then think it. Rhea . . . Celestial . . . and all this," Jack waved towards Morningstar Rising. "That's hardly low profile. You could probably have hidden a lot longer if you hadn't done all this."

"I was homesick, Jack," she said. "I couldn't have Heaven . . . I couldn't let go of everything that lay between me and God. But I could have the heavens. Later, I wanted you, all of you, to have it too." She looked out the window at the setting sun. "It's something Lucifer doesn't want you to have, Jack. He likes everybody cooped up here on Earth. There's always the chance you'll all do each other in." She paused and stared out the window, into the moonlit darkness. "I'm not so sure the Almighty wants you to have this either." He could see her frown in silhouette. "There's a grain of truth to the Prometheus legend; you could wreak a lot of havoc out there."

"But?"

"But the stars are your destiny. I've watched you for a long time. Not just you, Jack. Humanity. You're magnificent. Endlessly searching, courageous in the face of destruction, full of love and hope in spite of the certainty of death. In spite of your stupidities as a race, your brutality and backsliding and bullheadedness, you are, right now, more than I ever was as an angel in Heaven . . . more than any angel could ever hope to be. And you're ready to be more—but it's going to take the rigors of space to push you to that next step."

Jack held her hands. "And you'll be right there beside us, Rhea."

She shook her head. "I have this horrible feeling that I've run out of time. That all of a sudden, nothing is standing between me and Hell." She stared down at her hands clasped in his, and for a moment she was silent and still as death. Jack's heart felt like it was going to break. When she looked up at him again, her eyes held a resolution that, just for an instant, made him think she'd come up with an answer. But then she said, "I've worked with the lawyers to make sure there won't be any difficulty in transferring command. I signed the papers yesterday. The whole thing is set up so that you don't need anything from me to take over. At the moment that you call our lawyer and tell him that you request transfer of the company—no matter whether I'm sitting at the desk in my office or on vacation in the mountains or missing and presumed dead—Celestial becomes yours." She smiled a tiny smile. "With all the financial woes and disasters that will entail. I'm sorry. I wish the whole enterprise were in better financial shape."

Jack stared at her. She was telling him she'd just given him her company—that all he had to do to take it away from her was ask. She trusted him . . . in spite of her past, in spite of what she was. She trusted him with the project she'd gambled her eternity on.

She was still talking. He tried to focus on what she was saying. "If they get me, Jack, you have to carry on. You have the hunger. You and I share the same dream. I've given you everything I can—but it won't mean anything if you don't keep it going."

"Don't talk that way," he snapped.

She held his hands tightly. "Promise me, Jack. No matter what happens to me, promise me that you'll get humanity to the stars."

He swallowed. "I promise, Rhea."

The uneasy feeling was back suddenly, stronger. She glanced at her watch. "Time to go, Jack. It's seven fifty-eight."

She quickly straightened her clothes and patted her face dry. Then she kissed him with a passion deeper and more overwhelming than in any kiss they'd ever shared. He held her close, feeling for just an instant the panic she was trying to hide. They pulled apart; he wiped at the tear stains on his shirt, they smiled at each other.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too. And everything is going to be fine, Rhea."

She nodded brightly. "Yes. Of course it will."

She turned out the lights and stepped to the door in front of Jack. She looked out the window, and pointed to a Lincoln Town Car that was easing into the parking lot.

When she saw the driver, she froze. He heard her gasp. Then she gripped his arm and said, "They've found me, Jack. Glibbens is a devil."

 

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Framed