Soul Selecta

by Gill McKnight

“Trigger?”

  “She wants something. It’s not me, but I’m somehow involved. I’m not her real target otherwise you’d be talking to a piece of toast.”

  Sellie went quiet. Jesse knew she’d hit home. “Those other guys…” She nodded toward Soul Selector and Death. “They think she wants to finish me off, but they’re wrong.”

  Sellie looked pensive. Jesse could sense there was an internal struggle going on, so she pressed further.

  “What is the deal with her?” she asked. She might as well try to get all the information she could out of Sellie. The soul selector looked far too comfortable on her little tuft of grass to be on the move anytime soon. She’d joined Jesse for a reason; she wanted to talk.

  “She’s like all the gods. She’s a complete control freak,” Sellie said. The answer was a cop-out and Jesse was disappointed. She’d thought Sellie would open up and tell her what was really going on. Then Sellie cleared her throat and continued. “The big thing up here is manna, or god fuel if you like. And one of the best ways to harvest it is through soul mate love. It’s the easiest way.” Sellie settled into her story, and Jesse realized she was getting more than she’d bargained for. Sellie was a storyteller, and proverb preacher, a self-taught raconteur, and Jesse had opened a million-year floodgate.

  “When the gods realized mankind was more than animal,” Sellie began her story, “and that they had souls and that these souls generated energy, they set about trying to harness it. The energy was manna, a divine food, and love gave out the biggest amount, closely followed by the deepest evil. Love and hate are polar emotions that release the same energy though they flavor it in different ways. The end result is always fodder for the gods, and they don’t care if the source is good or evil.”

  Now this was interesting. Jesse listened, not moving a muscle for fear of breaking Sellie’s flow. “Of course there was huge in-family wrangling about which flavor was the best and who generated the most, the lovers or the haters. Obviously, Aphrodite wanted love to be the best. She was the goddess of love so that would give her the monopoly. Atë, her half sister and the goddess of ruin, wanted hate to be the main propagator. So they had a war. Humanity was split in two, the armies for good and the legions of evil, even though that was not the true representation of either goddess. Ares complained, only he should start wars among humanity, so he petitioned Zeus to step in. And he did. Zeus decreed that out of the millions of human souls, a few soul mates be created and only they could produce manna through their love.”

  “So Aphrodite won.”

  “No. Zeus is wily. He has a large, psychotic family to keep in check so he knows all the tricks. He created the notion of soul mates, preordained souls that connect time after time across infinity to meet, fall in love, and make manna. But he did not decree that the souls be from Aphrodite’s army.”

  “The souls could be evil?” This shocked Jesse. Was she evil? Was that why she died too soon and lost her soul mate? Was she being punished?

  “That was the compromise,” Sellie said. “Soul mates were a new concept, and they could belong to either goddess. Even bad people fall in love. All that concerned Zeus and the other gods was that manna was made, and as I said before, they don’t care what flavor.”

  “Am I evil? Is that why Aphrodite wants to destroy me?”

  “Do you feel evil? Have you done evil things?”

  Jesse blinked stupidly. “I don’t know. I don’t think I had time to.”

  “Jesse, you’re not being punished here. You genuinely got caught up in one of Death’s trawls. He feels awful about it,” Sellie said. “Aphrodite told Zeus she wanted to clean up her department. What she proposes for you is harsh, but Soulie and Death are doing their best to prevent it. They’ll come up with a plan, you’ll see.”

  Jesse’s eyes moistened. “I don’t want to be dead,” she said. “I want to live. I want to be with Norrie. That’s all. There’s nothing else in the world I want but that.”

  Sellie nodded sympathetically. “It’s how you’re made, Jesse. And believe me, Norrie feels exactly the same, except she has no idea you ever existed.”

  “I can’t bear to feel like this for eternity. Maybe it’s best to let Aphrodite destroy me.” She struggled against her tears.

  “I don’t think Aphrodite will do that, and I think you suspect that, too.”

  “What will happen to Norrie?” She was foremost on Jesse’s mind. Norrie was the real victim here.

  “She’ll grow old never finding the love she is looking for. Then she will die and eventually be reincarnated only to go through it all again, unless of course we can get you two resynchronized.”

  “Can we?” Jesse asked. She sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

  “We can try. I think we’ve been too easygoing, too form-filling.” Her gaze drifted over to where Soul Selector trampled up and down waving her arms in the air, raving about something or other while a doleful Death sat nearby picking at grass stems.

  “I can see phase two is going well,” she muttered.

  As they watched, Death froze, jammed a finger in his ear, and held up a hand to Soul Selector to shut up.

  “Not another fax,” Jesse said. “Who’s fallen off a cliff now?” Then Death was waving them over. He was practically dancing with excitement. Soul Selector was scowling when Sellie and Jesse joined them.

  “Disco squirrel has some news,” she said. Sellie and Jesse waited.

  “The office called,” Death said. “JC Waites is taxiing for takeoff. She’s got an ETA for tomorrow.”

  “And work is so slow you have to dance?” Jesse was unimpressed.

  “Who is JC Waites?” Soul Selector asked.

  “The woman in the coma,” Death said, his excitement deflating rapidly, “at the hospital.” He looked hurt.

  “What hospital? Who?” Soul Selector was getting annoyed.

  “Loa knows her,” Jesse explained. “Her charity is looking for organ donors and JC Waites is on the waiting list.”

  “And who’s Loa?” Sellie asked.

  “Norrie’s fwiend,” Death said. “Don’t you see?” Nobody seemed to see, so he sighed heavily, and began to elaborate. “Jesse can use her body for a while.” He beamed a wide, proud smile and awaited the accolades.

  “But,” Sellie frowned, “she’s in a coma. She’s dying, so how can you put Jesse in a spent body? Do you expect it to heal?”

  Death swung his gaze from Sellie to Soul Selector and back again, expecting some sort of reaction that he wasn’t getting. “Well,” he said, “That’s the soul selecting side, isn’t it? The quest was to help hide Jesse. This way we can get her away from Aphwodite and back into the living world. She can stay until JC’s body gives out.”

  “I’m to die all over again? That’s your famous plan?” Jesse said.

  “It is a good hiding place,” Sellie said. She looked at Jesse thoughtfully.

  “He’s doing it again.” Soul Selector pointed at Death. “He’s meddling and it will turn out the worse for me.”

  “Look on the bright side, for the short time that she’s there, we can hook her up with her soul mate,” Sellie said. “And when she dies, they’ll be better synchronized.”

  Death nodded. “That was my plan. Only I hadn’t thought it out.”

  “That’s good. Well done, you,” Sellie told him. He preened.

  “Jesse will be in a coma. We don’t even know if soul mates can operate with one of them in an altered state,” Soul Selector said. She was in a sour mood because the plan was outside her control.

  “Norrie visits JC all the time,” Death said. “She cares for her enough as it is.”

  “We just need them to be in the same room even for a minute for the soul mate magic to kick in.” Sellie was so up for the plan it pushed Soul Selector in the opposite direction for no other reason than to be contrary.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Nor did Soul Selector feel particularly confident about her soul mate magic. It had not a
lways been on target. “It won’t work,” she said. “This JC sounds too far gone. She’s not even conscious. There’s not enough time.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “How much time is not enough time?” Sellie said. “I mean, she’s a soul mate. She meets the love of her life and their love lasts forever. Their bodies won’t, but their love will. The love only has to spark, just once, and they’re away!”

  “For the third and final time, I’ll do it!” Jesse’s exasperation exploded among them like shrapnel.

  “I’ll do it.” She calmed down quickly once she had their attention. “I’ll do anything to be with her. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The waspish buzz in her ear brought Soul Selector to Aphrodite’s temple in double quick time. She materialized before the throne, twitching with nerves. She had been expecting a debriefing from the goddess after their impromptu audience with Zeus. It had been hanging over her like an atomic mushroom cloud. The floor was barely solid under her feet before Aphrodite’s anger unfurled.

  “You backstabbing bitch!”

  “My lady,” she said, and tried to bow elegantly, but it turned into an awkward, angular jerk. “I was only there to collect my ward. Zeus found her on the Fields—”

  “Shut up! Did I say you could talk?”

  Under her feet, she could feel the rumble of volcanoes. Soul Selector’s mouth grew dry and tasted of ash. She was sure there’d been an eruption on earth. The anger streaming from the goddess burned the air. It slithered through the temple like lava, thick and slow moving, and thoroughly vicious. Her cool, unflappable handmaidens began to look overheated and uncomfortable.

  “You set me up. You welshed on me to my father. How could you let that stupid old buzzard get involved in this department’s business? In my business!”

  It was frustrating to be told to shut up then asked a stream of questions she ached to answer. Soul Selector kept her lips firmly sealed despite the fact it was Death who had “welshed” on the goddess and her slushy plan, not her, and now she was getting it in the neck. She’d be avenged on the grubby little gravedigger if it took a thousand years.

  “Where is the little cow?”

  This brought Soul Selector out of her reverie of the many ways to punish Death. Cow? There’s a cow? She risked a response.

  “Cow, my lady? Is there to be a sacrifice?”

  “No, you dolt! The girl, where’s the freakin’ girl?” Aphrodite’s screech made everyone in the temple recoil. A swan honked back in answer while everyone else, clerks, servants, general devotees, shrank back trying to make themselves as small a target as possible. The handmaidens shot Soul Selector hate-filled looks. They would be the ones dealing with Aphrodite’s anger later, not her.

  “The soul mate, idiot,” Aphrodite continued to scream. “Why in Hades do I bother with you.” It wasn’t really a question, and Soul Selector stiffened. This was the worst audience she’d ever had with Aphrodite, and she carried bruises inside and out from previous meetings.

  “She’s…um, she’s at the scrying pool.” She was shocked to find she genuinely didn’t want to tell Aphrodite. This was borderline insurrection. “We’re preparing a place for her.”

  “Oh? Where’s that then?”

  “A vacant body on the mortal plane. We’ll have just enough time for the soul mates to be realigned before the host body ceases to function.” It was a good plan. It was downright clever, even if it wasn’t her own. “Then we can reincarnate them together later and collect a manna harvest.” This had to put her back in Aphrodite’s good graces.

  “Go get her.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Go get her.”

  “But she’s all ready to jump into the host.” Soul Selector was confused. The plan was a win-win. Didn’t Aphrodite get it?

  “Get her!”

  “But, Zeus—” She stopped mid sentence. Aphrodite actually hissed. She hissed like a reptile. Soul Selector shut up immediately. Her heart hammered. She was afraid. Afraid for herself, afraid for Jesse. Aphrodite had other plans. Bad plans. Plans she wasn’t sharing with her soul selector.

  “Now get out.” Aphrodite’s temper was no longer red hot. It was turning chilly. A freezing mist began to shroud her throne. She shone from within its milky depths like an ice-cold diamond. Around her dais, her handmaidens began to ice over. Their skin, hair, even their eyelashes sugared up like frosted cake ornaments. Soul Selector prepared to dematerialize as fast as she could, but Aphrodite raised a hand and she found herself stuck to the marble floor. A numbing cold crept up her shins and cramped her leg muscles.

  “Take the trade door,” the goddess said.

  It was incredibly abusive. Soul Selector felt acute shame. Her abilities and usefulness were being openly questioned. She was humiliated. She had somehow failed Aphrodite. Head bowed, she walked toward the trade door at the rear of the great hall. As she passed, temple business recommenced as staff and patrons alike pretended not to notice her quiet exit.

  When she drew level with the throne, she couldn’t help a sad, sideways peek at Aphrodite’s profile. It was magnificent. The most beautiful thing imaginable. As elegant as cut glass, as pale as cream, and as hard as flint. A splintering noise came from the dais. Two handmaidens, now no more than icy lumps, toppled down the throne steps. The nymphs had frozen to death at Aphrodite’s feet. She didn’t even notice. Her mood was lightening now. The icy mist dissipated. Melt water ran from her throne steps and trickled to where her handmaidens sat. Ice water began to drip from them. It seeped from their thawing hair and bodies, and from the hems of their togas. It trickled down their stiff, aching faces. Soul Selector saw the melt water on their cheeks mix with tears as the nymphs slowly defrosted from their icy agony.

  She turned her face away from the harrowing scene and noticed the door. Or rather she noticed the guards standing impassively beside it. A small wooden doorway sat tucked behind the golden finery of Aphrodite’s throne. It was noticeable because of its simple plainness in the midst of the temple’s ostentation. And because of the huge, bare-chested, turbaned guards that stood, cross-armed, on either side of it. They were like twin genies out of the same lamp. Wicked looking scimitars hung at their sides.

  This had to be the manna store Sellie had been talking about. Soul Selector would have given anything to see inside it. What did it mean? Why was Aphrodite amassing stocks of divine energy? There was only one explanation that Soul Selector could think of. Aphrodite meant to dispose of the old buzzard. The very thought shook Soul Selector to her bones, so hard she was sure bystanders could hear her rattle. Then the trade door was before her, and it was a relief to be leaving the temple totally ignored.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Sellie and Jesse walked under swaying boughs of lilac-blue jacaranda blossoms that never faded.

  “Yes,” Jesse said. “What else is there? I may be lying like a log on a hospital bed, but at least Norrie and I will be in the same timeline and hopefully reincarnated together later.”

  “True.”

  “Will you be in charge of this little escapade?” Jesse asked.

  “Well…it’s not my watch, is it?” She patted Jesse on the shoulder. “Soulie will look after you just fine. I know you feel she dropped the ball, but believe me, she’s struggling with an unusual set of circumstances, and none of it of her own making.”

  Jesse did not look convinced, but the re-materialization of Soul Selector into the grove closed the conversation.

  “Well? What did our wonderful goddess want?” Sellie asked.

  “Jesse. Again. So much for the seven days Zeus gave us.”

  Sellie frowned at this. “That’s a bit naughty.”

  “And I think I saw the manna store,” Soul Selector blurted. “The door behind her throne with two big hooligan guards.”

  “Told you so.”

  “Do you think she’s planning a coup?” Soul Selector felt sill
y saying it.

  Sellie shrugged. “Why not? That lot are always having domestics. They need a social services plan.”

  “It’s a go!” Death popped up out of nowhere. He was wearing baby blue fatigues and looked as locked and loaded as the color would allow. “JC is in her last few hours. We need to move, people!”

  “Do we have a plan?” Jesse was nervous. “And by plan I mean a scheme or method of procedure for the advancement of an agreed object or goal, not some ‘by the seat of your blueberry pants’ heist.”

  Death looked hurt. “I do have a plan,” he said. “And a scheme. And this is periwinkle, not blueberry.” He caressed his hip. “I’ve been to war. It’s exhausting.”

  “Look, kid,” Soul Selector said to Jesse. “All you have to do is lie down and die. It’s not like you haven’t rehearsed.”

  “What happens now?” Sellie asked. Soul Selector’s face hardened. She resented the question. This was none of Sellie’s business, and it was time she drew the line.

  “Captain Coffin here will go do his mojo, and I’ll follow with Jesse.”

  “It’s all about timing,” Death said. “One soul slips out as the other enters. Jesse can last several hours in a coma, giving Soul Selector time to get Norrie to the hospital. It would be nice if they could meet up before Jesse cwoaks.”

  “You’re such an old romantic,” Jesse said. He gave her a delighted smile and she scowled back.

  “What do you want me to do?” Sellie asked.

  “Nothing. It’s all under control. Go and have a cup of tea or something. Find a nice hole to sit in.” Soul Selector turned back to Death. “Let’s go, Necro Boy.” They had to get Jesse out of the Fields before Aphrodite came looking for her.

  “I’m going down first to prep JC,” he said. “Zeus will want a report so we’ll have to keep within the wools.”

  Soul Selector sighed but agreed. “Be quick as you can. Send a fax when you’re ready for us.” Death was already an opaque outline as he evaporated away.

  “How long will it take?” Jesse asked. Soul Selector shrugged.