Hike.
As the human - and
may he not arrive Up here for decades yet, thought the angel - once said,
at times like this you instinctively know what to do: you stare straight ahead
at the wall. Or walls. Or walls, ceiling, floor
and door. You can do that when
you're a Kyriotate. And you don't
precisely stare at the
Laurence gets intense when he's mad. And precise. And a whole lot of other things that
deliberately don't add up to 'rampaging berserker'. He's got people for that. Whole Words, in fact.
"Explain."
The Kyriotate carefully neither swallowed nor adopted
the colorful patois used by Creationers to maintain group solidarity. "Commander Sir Laurence, there was a
sick child involved. Dying,
in fact."
"I am aware of that part, Daniel. A dying child who wished
more than anything else to call a play for Notre Dame. So a coach, out of the goodness of his heart,
gave him that wish. It was a lovely
thought and a kind gesture." The
irony in Laurence's voice was quite noticeable in its absence. "It was all
done subtly and carefully, with no overt interference and no loss of free will
on the coach's part. That was well done;
you were to be commended for it.
"I say 'were' because what is at issue now is
why you interfered with the game itself.
A thirteen yard gain on the one yard line from a
completely inappropriate play?
You might have well placed a large sign on the quarterback that said
'HURRAH! I have been taken over by a
Kyriotate and will now perform miracles!'..."
Daniel did not cough, merely thought about it -
which was enough for the
"I see. Two
signs, then: one for the quarterback and one for the receiver. There are rules,
Daniel. We do not break rules here at
the Sword."
The Kyriotate's response was carefully not a
whine. "The boy loved it."
"Yes. He
did indeed, which is why you are only going to be spending the next three holy
days peeling potatoes in the kitchen, instead of being broken from my
service. Which is precisely what would have happened to
you if I even suspected that you were trying to curry favor with me by aiding
Notre Dame." Laurence... did not precisely relax; it was more as if
the tension had been sent off to someone more deserving of it. "I am not Lucifer, and I will not
emulate his ways with his favorites.
They will succeed or fail on their own skills, not those of me or
mine." The
"Dismissed."
Daniel saluted and shifted perceptions (turning
around smartly is a touch difficult when you may not have the same legs at the
end that you had at the start). As it
placed one tentacle on the doorknob, behind him came the word
"Touchdown".
The Kyriotate shifted perceptions back.
"Sir?"
"Touchdown, Daniel. It is one of the ways that you acquire points
in the game of American football."
Laurence's eyes were no longer cold.
"Because if you are going to defy the express wishes of the
Commander of the Host in order to give both a scared and lonely child and his
grieving mother surcease of pain, you might as well not stop at thirteen
yards."
Daniel blinked; fortunately, at this point in its
cycle this wasn't much of a chore.
"I... have no response to that, Sir."
"Of course you do not. Prudence is a Virtue, after all."