Chapter 16
1062 Words
Chapter 16
Michelle glared at the computer terminal.
It didn’t respond.
She turned the terminal off, then on again.
It still didn’t respond.
She tapped a key.
Nothing.
The Devil Incarnate slapped the side of it, sharply.
Ouch! appeared in bright, apple-green letters across the screen. I hate it when you do that!
“Tough!” she typed in a rapid two-fingered patter.
The software had always been rather salty, but something deeper had been going on lately. Maybe she shouldn’t have blown off all those meetings from C-SCAT. Virgil’s reports had always reassured her everything was fine, but since the man couldn’t reliably operate a pocket calculator, maybe it was time to do a little checking on her own.
Michelle pulled the keyboard into her lap and propped her feet on the table. Between her crossed feet, the view out her home-office window did little to calm her. One of these days it would be time to move her office to the front of the house with its view of the beach. But she wasn’t up for a hundred construction demons to be underfoot for the rest of the week.
She wiggled her toes in the new socks Mary Magdalene had knit for her. The body of one sock the gray of a storm-wracked sky with little lightning bolts around the ankle, the other was the blue of a rain-washed sky with sunbeams at the ankle. The toes were in the shades of the rainbow. She wiggled her toes again making the rainbow toes shift and sparkle. She really loved these socks.
Michelle stared past her feet again. Past the little grove of palm trees, past the hills of lavender and sage, and up at the Foothills which climbed jaggedly toward the Hills of Hell. None but the most masochistic ventured up there.
Though she could guarantee at this moment that at least two certain fools, Achilles and Hector were up there proving what manly men they were. Not that anyone else cared. Apollo and Shiva might well have joined them for one of those irritating wrestling matches that shook the foundations of Heaven and Hell, but they knew if they let it get out of hand she’d come up and tan their hides but good, so there was some slight chance they’d behave.
They’d better not mess with her today. A foul mood always lurked nearby when she was dealing with the Software that Runs the Universe.
Michelle typed, “Status of the Apocalypse?”
Oh, was one scheduled this week? Did I miss anything I might actually care about?
The bloody machine knew as well as she did what was in the balance if Dana Murphy failed in redeeming humankind’s souls after she came into her powers. The whole universal structure was a little shaky, and if Dana’s efforts failed, a domino effect could begin. Earth would collapse in a few years, then it might spread. How far was the question.
“If we fail with the redemption of humanity, what happens next? Is it the end of all creation?”
Naw! This universe maybe. Maybe half-a-dozen of the parallel ones. Nobody else will notice much.
“Other ones?” There were other ones? She dropped her feet to the floor and leaned closer to the screen. It had told her that once before, hadn’t it? Yes, but the world had been ending unexpectedly because of that Buddhist Hungry Ghost mucking around with the Software that Runs the Universe and so she’d forgotten about the other universes.
We’re Universe 3 Version 5, universes 4 through 6 of 8 are at high risk. Three and 7 at moderate risk. One, 2, and 8 won’t notice if we went out with a whimper or up with a Big Bang. That’s all. No biggie.
This wasn’t like the software to be so forthcoming.
“No biggie? The universe, our known Universe, could end just like that and you don’t care?”
Take a bit for the ripples to reach the edge of the Universe, couple centuries maybe. Universe Collapse Waves travel way faster than the starship Enterprise, but their speed is finite. Though we’d all be gone quick enough here. We’d be the epicenter of the Universal Quake. Can’t say as I’d miss it much though. How about you?
She tossed her keyboard on the desk and walked away for a moment. The damn system got under her skin so easily. As if she had buttons it knew exactly how to push.
Well, she’d rather face salvation than this thrice-blessed machine.
“Deep breaths, Michelle. Deep breaths.” She shoved open the window and, sure enough, a faint cry of pain echoed down from the Foothills. To Heaven with them. They were welcome to leave anytime they wanted, not that they’d believe it.
She closed her eyes and focused on the smell of sea salt and ion-rich ocean breezes sneaking around from the front of the house. Calmer breath. Slower heart.
Okay.
Back to the screen.
No further comments waiting for her.
“So, how’ve you been feeling?” she tapped in.
Is it a sincere question, or are you just avoiding whatever it is you’re really asking?
That was way too perceptive. The keys were slick beneath her fingers as she considered.
“Both.”
Humph. Well, if you really want to know, I think I’m going senile.
“Can software do that?”
Tell me someone else other than you and God that I can ask who’s been running without a break for fourteen billion years.
“Okay. Your point.”
Thank you. :^)
It was the first time she’d ever seen it use an emoticon. Before she had a chance to consider the implications, it continued.
Senility is marked by the onset of forgetfulness and inattention.
“You’ve never paid me much attention.” The software made a concerted practice of avoiding her if the truth be known.
Don’t quibble. And I’ve paid you more than most.
A compliment? She’d swear it was a compliment. Michelle scrolled back up and reread the last few lines.
Stop fussing!
She stopped.
The computer started putting up a slow line of periods to indicate that it was searching or thinking or something. It hated being interrupted when it was doing that.
Michelle stared out at the Foothills of Hell. She really needed to get out more. Maybe she should invite herself over to Heaven for dinner with Mary. Jesus would be around, they’d invite over St. Peter and, if the past was anything to judge by, they’d get good and drunk. She could use that right now.
The problem is…The computer made its little bell sound to get her attention back to the screen. Well, I’ve, um, forgotten what Apocalypse I was supposed to be watching out for.
Crap. They were in trouble. Now she really needed a drink.
- Writer
