PART EIGHT
Ten minutes ago, Lois had been feeling full of hope and anticipation. Now, she was feeling claustrophobic, frustrated and scared.
The Leader's office wasn't big enough to accommodate the full Council plus Lois and Kilmartin, particularly when everybody wanted to talk at once and nobody seemed to have anything useful to say.
So much time had passed since the last Guardianship had been invoked that no one seemed to remember what to do.
Lois's stomach knotted. Surely she couldn't have come so far only to be thwarted?
"Silence! I can't hear myself think!" Archangel Marcus roared.
Heads turned in the Leader's direction. Lois watched as he rubbed his face vigorously with his palms. Then, more quietly, he said, "Can anyone remember anything about how to go about invoking Guardianship?"
A few shrugs greeted his question. Then an elderly angel raised a feeble hand.
"Yes, Angel Eusebio?"
"I used to help with the paperwork," Eusebio said. "I can perhaps remember a little of what needs to be done."
Lois had seen Eusebio sitting with the rest of the councillors during the inquiry, but she hadn't paid him much attention. Now, she looked at him carefully for the first time. He was small and stooped, and must have been very old when he'd died because the little hair he had was thin and wispy and snow white. His eyes were milky brown and, when he spoke, his voice was every bit as feeble as his movements. His words were slow and heavily accented, enriched by the slurs and lisps of a native Spanish speaker from Castille.
Lois felt an upsurge of gratitude towards Eusebio. Maybe... maybe things would work out after all.
Maybe...
After that, things happened fast. Angels from all over the Enclave were brought in to help.
The Leader's room grew more and more crowded. Angels began spilling out into the corridors, then disappeared into other offices as little working parties formed.
There were story-tellers, who were told to come up with a credible explanation as to where Lois had been for the last five years. There were computer specialists, who were tasked with changing databases to give Lois a different history, one where she did not die in 1993.
Lois watched them work, offering comments and information when needed.
Until...
"You okay?" asked one of the story-tellers, a smiling Asian woman called Mei-Lin, at one point.
"I guess," said Lois softly. "I mean... I want this, but I can't help thinking, it will take a miracle to make it work."
Mei-Lin's smile widened. "We're angels, Lois. Miracles are our business. Do not worry."
*****
"Angel Lois?"
She turned around and found herself looking into the bluest pair of eyes she'd ever seen.
"My name is Hugh," their owner said. "And I could use your help. I'm a... Well, when I was a mortal, I was a psychiatrist. Here I work in Well-being Services. And I've been asked to... Adjust... your memory before you leave us. And Clark Kent's."
Kilmartin had already told her that her memory would be wiped, but she hadn't given any real thought to what that actually mean.
"What do you mean, 'adjust,' exactly?"
He waved vaguely at three other angels, who stood silently behind him, and said, "We will enter your sleeping minds and Weave your memories into dreams."
Then, Hugh explained, just to make doubly sure that no traces of Angel Lois's presence were left behind in the mortal world, angels from Operational Services would delete the journal entries Clark had written since he'd met Lois.
"And that's where you come in," Hugh said finally. "We need to know the password you used to get into Clark's journal. Also..." He looked uncomfortable.
"Yes?" asked Lois warily.
"You have to understand, we could enter Clark's dreams without permission. However, for various reasons, I would rather we didn't have to do that."
Lois looked at him expectantly.
"For one thing," Hugh said, "tampering with someone's mind without their permission is... ethically questionable. For another, we know, from working with humans, that Weaving works best when the mind has been prepared for it."
"I still don't understand what you want me to do," Lois said.
"No? It's simple, really. I want you to talk to him. I want you to persuade him to let us help him to forget you."
*****
"Clark?"
Almost twenty-four hours had passed since she'd last seen him, and night had come around again.
He was sleeping peacefully, sprawled across his bed, his breathing slow and even.
Lois shook his shoulder lightly. "Wake up," she whispered. "I need to talk to you."
Clark mumbled something unintelligible, then rolled onto his back. His eyes opened, and he said more clearly, "Lois? Is that you?"
"Yeah," she said softly.
"Where...?"
"I'm right here." She smiled lopsidedly as she looked down at him. She perched sideways on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers.
His fingers curled around hers, and he lifted her hand. "Lois..." His lips were warm and supple against her knuckles, his breath a sweet caress against her skin.
"Clark," Lois said. "I need to talk to you."
He scooted back against the headboard and patted the area of mattress next to him. "You sound so serious," he said.
"I am serious. I... We..."
How could she explain everything that had happened in the last day? Everything that was yet to come?
She wanted to ask, "Do you love me?" But she already knew the answer.
Yes, he loved her, or at least he loved the idea of her. He loved her beyond all logic and reason.
She didn't need to ask.
So, instead she said, "Do you trust me?"
"Of course I do! What kind of a question is that?"
"An important one," she answered. "Because I need you to do something for me. Something you won't be comfortable with, and that I don't think you'll understand."
"And that is?"
"I need you to forget me."
"Lois! No! I can't -- I won't -- do that!"
"You must, Clark. It's not... It's not as bad as it sounds. And it might... Clark, they're sending me back down to Earth. I'll be alive again. I'll be Flesh. And I--" She blinked back tears.
When had she started to cry? And why?
Were they tears of hope? Tears of sadness? Tears of desperation?
She didn't know.
She blinked again and said, "We'll have a chance to meet. We might even fall in love. But I can only come back if nobody knows who -- what -- I've been. And that includes you. And me. Only by forgetting the past do we stand a chance of having a future."
Clark's grip on her hand tightened. "I don't-- This is too much to take in. You're being sent back? What does that mean? Is that some kind of punishment? Like... being banished?"
Lois shook her head, then remembered he couldn't see her. "No," she said. "It's not a punishment. I chose this. I believe it's for the best."
"You chose to stop being an angel? You can do that?"
"Apparently, yes."
"Why? Why would you want to do that?"
She couldn't bring herself to explain. Explaining would mean hurting him. Explaining would mean telling him why she had been sent to Watch him in the first place. She'd have to tell him that the angels hadn't been concerned for him, just for the Grand Design.
She'd seen how he was treated on Earth. How could she tell him that he'd been treated as badly up above? It was bad enough that he was isolated from the rest of the world. How would he feel if he knew that he had been set apart by heaven as well?
Surely, it was enough for him to know that she was willing to trade in an eternity in paradise for just the possibility of a lifetime by his side.
"Isn't it enough that I do?" she asked.
"No," he answered.
"Just... Clark... Please! Just believe me when I say, I'm doing this for you. If I stayed in the Enclave, I'd never be allowed to see you again. At least this way, there is at least a chance that I will." She smiled sadly through her tears.
"All right," he said. "Tell me what I need to do."
A lump blocked her throat. His trust was a blessing and she felt honoured by it.
She had to swallow before she could answer him. "Nothing," she whispered. "Just go to sleep. We'll do the rest."
"We?"
"Yes. I know you can't see them, but your apartment is full of angels. They're all here for you. For us."
"Oh." Then: "Will you... Will you stay with me? Will you let me hold you?"
"Yes."
"You know... In case this is the last time..."
"Yes."
He snuggled down, drawing her with him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.
She laid her head against his chest and felt his breath ruffle her hair. His heartbeat thundered in her ear.
"Lois..."
"Yes..."
"Just in case I never get another chance to say it... Just so you know... I love you."
"I know. And I love you, too."
He closed his eyes.
His breathing steadied and slowed.
And Lois held him as Hugh and his companions began to Weave.
*****
"Lois?"
Lois felt someone put a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and lifted her head.
Hugh was looking down at her. He smiled wearily.
"We've finished. It's time to go."
Lois nodded and eased herself out of Clark's embrace.
Was this the last time she would look at Clark with so much love in her heart? Was this truly good-bye?
If everything went according to plan, he would not remember her, nor she him.
But she prayed that her heart would remember. They would see each other again, and it would be as though they'd known each other across a thousand lifetimes.
She stood, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. "Please," she said to Hugh, "let me have a moment more."
He nodded.
She looked down at Clark. How peaceful he looked, lying there, asleep!
A tear trickled down her cheek. "Please, God. Don't let this be good-bye," she whispered.
She stared at Clark until her eyes blurred, wanting to carve Clark's face into her soul. She would know him again. She would.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
He sighed in his sleep, and a smile curved his lips. "Au revoir," she whispered.
Not good-bye. Not farewell.
Au revoir. A promise.
She would see him again.
*****
"We're sorry," Mei-Lin said a little while later.
Lois was back in the Leader's office, where the story-tellers were putting together the final touches of the Guardianship.
"Your back story is going to have to be a pretty sad one. It might even be a bit hard for you to live with. However, you've been away for such a long time that our options are pretty limited."
"How do you mean?" Lois asked.
"Too many people know about your death."
"Presumed death," said Lois. "Nobody ever found me."
"Which, of course, helps us now, because we don't have to explain a body away. However, presumed or actual death... It makes very little difference, really. The point is, most people have accepted that you're dead. That you died a long time ago.
"Okay, so you've still got another couple of years to go before your family can have you declared officially dead, but... But they believe it, as do most other people you knew.
"In the process of invoking Guardianship, we have to change as little of the mortal world as possible. When we put you back, we can't have people asking too many questions."
"How can you stop them?" Lois asked.
"By coming up with a story that explains where you've been for the last five and a half years, and why you haven't been in contact with anyone. And -- I'm sorry, Lois -- but the best any of us have been able to come up with is that you were so badly injured that you suffered from almost total amnesia."
"Nobody will buy that!" protested Lois. "People looked for me! Clark looked for me. I'd have been found!"
"In the real world, most likely you would have been. But, remember, Lois, this isn't the real world. This is a fiction. It needs to be plausible. It doesn't have to be true.
"Besides, Angel Mehitabel has said he can help us." Mei-Lin wave forward a tall black man with a serene face. "He's from Operational Services, and he works as a doctor alongside a dozen mortals at a hospital in Brazzaville. If anyone asks, he'll say you were there, and he'll make sure that he has the paperwork to back up that story."
"Okay..." said Lois grudgingly. "So, basically, you're telling me that you're sending me back to Earth, with a medical history that will put my insurance premiums through the roof. Is that right?"
Mei-Lin shrugged. "Sorry, Lois. If you can come up with a better story, we'd love to hear it, but that's the best any of us have been able to come up with at such short notice."
Lois wracked her brains but, as much as she wanted to be anything other than a medical-student's delight, she couldn't come up with a viable alternative.
"You said that Angel Mehitabel is going to help. Does that mean that I'm being sent back to the Congo?"
"No," said Mei-Lin. "That's not necessary. We also have someone in Metropolis who will help us."
"Oh?"
"She's an in-between -- a nun, actually. Her name is Sister Trine, and she runs a half-way house on the lower east side. She'll look after you. Now, if you're ready... I think Angel Hugh is waiting for you outside."
*****
Lois felt disconnected. Nothing around her felt real. Maybe it was because, in her heart, she had already left the Enclave.
The marble of the cloisters looked too white and the angels who passed them too serene.
As Mei-Lin had said, Hugh was waiting for her. But he was not alone. Next to him stood Kilmartin.
He didn't smile at her. Somehow Lois knew that wasn't because he didn't want to, but it was because he couldn't.
She'd been his student for more than five years, a mere blink of an eye in the face of eternity. More than long enough, however, for her to grow fond of the older angel and for him to grow fond of her.
Now, he said, "I couldn't let you go without saying good-bye."
She nodded, and felt yet more tears pricking her eyes. "I'm glad you didn't." She reached up and hugged him. "Thank you," she said. "For everything. I wish..."
What, though? That things had turned out differently? That she had been the perfect angel? That she could have stayed by his side, studying with him and learning from him for the next four hundred years?
No. She didn't wish for any of those things.
The only thing she regretted was that, to have everything she wanted, she would have to leave his caring warmth behind.
"I wish," she said, "that this wasn't good-bye. I'm going to miss you."
"No," said Kilmartin. "That's the whole point of why we're here. You won't miss me at all. But I'll miss you enough for both of us."
Did he have to say that? Did he have to make her feel guilty about their parting?
But somehow she knew he hadn't meant it that way. He just wanted her to know how much she'd come to mean to him.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I don't want you to be sorry," Kilmartin answered. "I just want you to be happy."
Then, just as he had done earlier, back in Clark's apartment, Hugh put his hand on Lois's shoulder and said, "It's time to go."
"What do I have to do?" she asked.
"Nothing much. Just lie down on the grass and close your eyes. You'll feel sleepy. That's all."
"Really?"
Hugh nodded.
Lois looked at Kilmartin. "Will you...? Would you mind...? Stay with me."
And then Kilmartin did manage to smile, at least a little. "You couldn’t tear me away," he said, his voice catching.
"Thank you," Lois whispered.
She knelt, then lay, on the lawn. The grass was dry and tickled her skin.
Kilmartin held her hand.
The last thing Lois saw before she closed her eyes was the sky. The stars were bright here, closer and more numerous than they ever appeared on Earth.
Deep in the Enclave a bell began to toll for the first time since 1702.
A knell for an angel passing beyond the point of no return.
*****
To Be Concluded
