Too busy, maybe next year.
How many times had Jane said that to others?
I don’t need to take time off. I need to show my work ethic to get ahead.
How many times had she said that to herself?
It was ironic that it had taken her literal death for her to consider taking PTO. Even now she was hesitant to do it. She shook her head and focused on her morning jog, cranking up the volume on her wristwatch until the sweet, sweet sounds of Iron Maiden’s, “The Trooper” replaced her thoughts.
Who even needed PTO when she could run up Mt. Everest every morning?
Or what passed as morning in the Underworld, anyway. However, she did have to admit that the act of running up solid air around a mountain in slowly inclining circuits continued to be a little disconcerting.
By all accounts she never should have set foot in the Afterlife Production Division, not while it was still under construction and especially not now that she had ongoing beef with its leader. In theory the world around her could change at any moment as the APD team worked to get it just right—which had the tendency to discorporate any souls caught in their manifestations—and Shannon’s mood had continued to worsen as her workload increased. She would not take kindly to what she would see as Jane using her seniority to bypass her authority in order to get a simple jog in before work.
Which is why she didn’t have to know about it.
Jane checked her watch and realized with a start that she was lagging. She picked up the pace, and the afterlife responded to her increased urgency, sliding past her as though she were running at fifty miles an hour instead of what was probably more like ten. As she approached the summit the clouds began to clear, and she was greeted with the full view of the Himalayas just as the sun crested over the horizon.
Her wristwatch beeped just before she reached the top.
She blew out a long, aggravated breath as she stepped upon the ice-covered peak, devoid of all the trash that had crusted over it in the overworld of her realm—another reminder that she was no longer alive. Yet her chest and ribs ached as she caught her breath, and her body had that delightful pain-pleasure feeling that came from a good run. Death said it was only her memory of these experiences that gave her these sensations—vestiges of her life. But they felt real, so didn’t that make them real?
“I almost made it,” she mumbled. She tapped her watch, silencing the alarm, and stared out across the landscape. APD had done a spectacular job so far. “Next time.”
After today. I’ll take time off after today.
She envisioned a doorway before her and the world snapped to obey, manifesting one in a manner of seconds. She took the knob and stepped through into her living quarters, banishing the doorway behind her with a flick of her hand.
Nice. I’m getting better at this.
Gizmo immediately ran to her and brushed himself against her leg, meowing up at her. She smiled down at him and picked him up, snuggling him sweetly to her chest and kissing his head. It had been a shock to find him in the Underworld, but the thought of mourning his death when they had been reunited seemed silly.
On the contrary, Death had told her she’d been lucky—animal souls worked differently than humans. Those that shared a deep bond with a person could follow them to the Underworld while the rest were sent to the void. His presence here spoke volumes.
She placed him on the ground and made him breakfast. “Here you go, Mo,” Jane said, placing a grilled fish on a plate and setting it on the floor. “The finest fish money can buy.” Gizmo meowed again. Jane smiled. “Thank you. At least you get my jokes.”
While the cat set upon the dish as though he could still feel hunger, Jane went to enjoy her shower as though she still had a body. Death could joke about her unwillingness to let go of corporeality as much as they wanted to, she was never going to give up the feeling of slowly warming up after a cold morning run. Not to mention how much better her coffee tasted after one.
Clean and caffeinated, she chose to wear her blazer, matching pants, and grudgingly, her sneakers. She expected to be doing a lot of moving, but she’d learned years ago how important it was to dress the way she wanted others to treat her.
“I’ll be back for dinner. I think,” Jane said to Gizmo. “Gotta keep my boy fed—don’t want him losing another one of his nine lives.”
Gizmo meowed.
“I know, I’m hilarious. See you, babe.”
Jane manifested another door. When she stepped through this one, she appeared in her office. Kay was already there, hard at work. He looked up and nodded to her. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Jane banished the door to her quarters. “What came in?”
Kay picked up a few papers and leafed through them. “Elderhart would like to discuss the clause about the Reap-er, the Guardians accepting games in order to get out of dying, citing it as, ‘an inefficient aspect of our doctrine—”
“—that encumbers and irritates—” Jane said along.
“—the existing laborious task of enticing even a single soul to cross the great river that divides life and death,” they finished together.
“I see you’ve gotten this before,” Kay said.
“Not in writing. I swear that man was actually a poet in life. We should frame that missive and hang it on the wall.”
Kay snorted. Jane smiled slightly at his reaction. She was on a roll today.
“I just realized something. If it’s so dangerous to travel back to our home planes, then why are we sending Reapers to gather souls?”
“Because the freshly departed aren’t on their home planes anymore. Not entirely.”
Jane and Kay turned towards the office door. Death stood on the threshold with scythe in hand. “The newly deceased exist in Limbo—a place not of life, nor of death, where they may choose to stay on their mortal plane or depart for the Underworld. Should they choose to stay they then leave Limbo, where they tend to become ghosts as they usually no longer have their bodies left to inhabit.”
“You, sir, need to learn the golden rule of mornings,” Jane said to Death.
“Excuse me?”
“You got here too quickly. Bosses are not allowed to give work to an employee until at least twenty minutes have passed after said employees arrives at the office. It’s in the rules.”
Death tilted their head. “Time doesn’t—”
“Oh, never mind.” Jane huffed and turned to stand beside Kay, looking over his shoulder at the other papers on his desk. “Actually, maybe you can answer this for me. Why do the Guardians need to play a game when challenged?”
Death shifted in a way that belied embarrassment. Jane raised an expectant eyebrow. “It… was rather dull,” they said at last.
Kay stopped what he was doing to stare at Death. Jane joined him. “You’ve literally been playing games with people’s lives because you got bored?”
“Yes and no. I also felt that if the circumstances were right, if the mortal still had a decently healthy body to return to—that is, still in one piece—then life would still reasonably have a hold on them. I am compelled to honor such a claim, hence a game to settle the dispute. I thought it an elegant solution. Two birds with a stone, as you say?”
Jane clicked her tongue. “That… actually makes sense. And it would appeal to Elderhart’s honor.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Next time don’t lead with, ‘I was bored.’”
Death nodded. “I will make note of this.”
“Was there anything else, Kay?”
“Nuelwe wants to set up a dialogue between you and Shannon,” Kay said.
Jane quieted.
“Are you two still in disagreement?” Death asked.
Jane turned to Death. “It’s been twenty minutes. Did you come to collect me?”
Death and Kay shared a look.
Jane snapped her fingers for attention. “Hey. Were we going or what?”
Death tapped their finger against the shaft of their scythe. “Yes. I wanted to ask if you were ready to see the outer realms.”
“Yes. I am.”
Death beckoned for her to stand next to them. Jane sighed and did so, silently prepping herself for the oncoming feeling of nausea. Kay gave a small, half-hearted wave to them. “I hope you both enjoy yourselves. I’ll be here. Alone. With paperwork. Aren’t I meant to be an administrative aide? I feel as though staying here means that I will miss a crucial experience that will help me do my job.”
“I am afraid my answer is still no,” Death said. “But you will get a chance to see the realms, Kay. We need you here to… hold down the battlements. Right?” Death looked to Jane for confirmation.
“Close enough. Cheer up, Kay. You’ve been promoted to project manager for the day,” Jane said. She had said it jokingly, but Kay actually seemed to straighten a little at that. “Alright, Death. Let’s get out of here. Where to first?”
“The Realm of Thought.”
“Ok.” Jane closed her eyes and tightly gripped Death’s sleeve. “Let’s do it.”
Nothing happened.
Jane looked around. “Um. Death? What’s going on?”
Death tapped their scythe again before slowly, almost sheepishly, turning their head to look at her. “Forgive me, I must say it. I believe that you and Shannon should speak with one another.”
Jane stared at them. Kay suddenly found great interest in a paper on his desk and looked away.
“It would be good for the team, yes?”
She set her jaw. “I… suppose so.”
“Excellent.”
“Death?”
“Mm?"
“I’m taking PTO when we get back.”
Death paused. “Is that wise to do when the other managers are leaving for—”
“I’m taking PTO when we get back.”
“They will have questions—”
“PTO. When. We. Get. Back.”
Death sighed. “Very well.” Lifting their scythe, they stamped it on the floor, and the two of them disappeared in flash of light, heading for the Realm of Thought.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
