**DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are based on anyone in particular. The gods and goddesses in this book, while perhaps retaining historical names, are purely fictitious figments of my imagination. Please do not take offense to this fantastical romp. It has only good intentions.**
101 Pemberley Place: Chapter 1
"No, no, NO!" Gillian shouted as her umbrella turned inside out in the wind, dumping the water it had collected onto her head, and allowing the rest of the torrential downpour to find her light spring coat and soak through it in minutes.
In her anger, she threw the umbrella down the sidewalk in front of her. Luckily no one was there, so it skidded along on the puddles until it fell into the street, and was promptly ran over by an oncoming car.
Gillian threw her hands up in defeat, and slowly allowed them to fall back to her sides.
This was not her day.
This was not her week.
And to be quite frank, this was not her year.
Last year had been great. She had secured a position at the city court as a transcriber right out of school. She had greatly enjoyed working in Mr. Hannoway's office. She felt happy and accomplished with her work.
Then, starting in January of this year, everything fell apart. For one, Mr. Hannoway died.
Yes, I said it, died.
He was 37 years old. 37 year olds just don't up and die. But Mr. Hannoway did. Aneurism, they said, some freak accident, could happen to anyone at any time. Thankfully, or so she thought at the time, Gillian was transferred to Mrs. Dietrich's desk. Mr. Hannoway had only said good things about her skills, so the court had decided to retain her in spite of Mr. Hannoway's unfortunate end.
Mrs. Dietrich was a bitch.
(Yep, already swearing. I know, I need to work on that if children want to read this... but maybe I don't want children to read this? Maybe the "children" reading this read Harry Potter when they were my age? No idea at this point.)
No, sadly, she was not a female dog. She was a bitch, and she didn't want an assistant transcriber to her already adequate secretary. In short, she made Gillian's life hell at the court, rarely used her to transcribe anything, and gave her all of the shit jobs no one would do on an ordinary day.
So, today, of all days, after taking out Mrs. Dietrich's trash for the sixth time, Gillian showed the faintest sign of exasperation: she sighed. It was quiet enough, she thought it would go without notice. Anyway, Mrs. Dietrich was an old bird in her seventies. Her hearing couldn't be...
"Ms. Argyle," Mrs. Dietrich began.
"Yes?" Gillian squeaked, hoping Mrs. Dietrich had simply come up with another stupid task for her to attend.
"Clean out your desk. I have had quite enough putting up with your attitude. Do not expect a positive reference from me," Mrs. Dietrich barked.
Gillian took in a sharp breath. "What?" she finally responded.
"I said, clean out your desk," Mrs. Dietrich repeated herself. "Are YOU hard of hearing or just dumb as a box of rocks? I have no idea what Mr. Hannoway saw in you other than your youth. You are completely useless in this profession."
"Ma'am," Gillian stuttered, "I really need this job. I mean, I really need this job! I am a single girl living in the city. I cannot afford my rent..."
"Do I look like I care?" Mrs. Dietrich snapped. "There are thousands of girls out there I could hire to fill your position who would do a better job in just their carriage and appearance than you, Ms. Argyle. Here, I'll put it in language you will understand, 'GET OUT! YOU'RE FIRED!,' you useless quim."
Gillian began to cry, and ran from Mrs. Dietrich's office to her desk. It had been home for a year and a half now. Even though Mrs. Dietrich had made her home Hell, it didn't make it any less of her home. Besides, her apartment wasn't home. It never had been. It was small, and drafty, and besides her cat, Persephone, she had no reason to return to it in the evenings. She slowly picked up the few things from the wooden desk that made it hers: her swingline stapler, her picture of Persephone, her ergonomic keyboard, the pen set Mr. Hannoway had given her, and her pencil cup, full of colorful pens she used to edit various papers she was handed. She took a deep breath in. Life had always been hard. She had just had a short break with Mr. Hannoway. She was now well rested for her next challenge, right?
"I need a drink," thought Gillian.
She placed all of her items in her briefcase, and prepared to leave. Just as she was about to go, the errand boy appeared in front of her desk, "Where are you off to, Ms. Gillian?" he asked.
Gillian looked up. She had always liked Peter. He brought her coffee in the mornings, and she had only had to tell him once how she took it. He was always bright, cheerful, and polite. She would miss his smiling face.
"Mrs. Dietrich fired me," Gillian said with a shrug.
"On to better things then," Peter said with a smile.
Gillian looked up to tell him the truth: she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do. Her rent was due, and Persephone's recent vet bill after her fight with a ball of yarn had really made that a challenge to meet on time. She was terrified, and looking for something else anywhere. But when she looked up, he was gone. No Peter anywhere.
Gillian shrugged. Not the first time she had imagined things. Ever since she was little, her foster parents had told her that she had the most vivid imagination. She was told she would play with fairies in the back yard, or talk to ghosts in the old buildings most of her foster parents seemed to prefer. She remembered because she had been told these stories so many times. She didn't actually remember herself: she had blocked it all out. She didn't have time for childish things. She had to survive.
It had not been easy pulling together money from no where to go to college, but she had done it somehow. She had loans, to be sure, but she had made it through school with her degree. It was more than she could say for... well... she actually wasn't sure.
Nothing was known about her parents. Absolutely nothing. It always infuriated doctors. They would ask for her family history of various things, and she always just had to write down: unknown. The people who had found her did not know if her parents were alive or dead. At one point, one of her foster parents, exasperated with her "imagination," and with connections to a crime lab, did some DNA testing on her, trying to find who her birth parents could have been, to find answers. The results were disconcerting, which is why Gillian had not forgotten: there were no records that could possibly have matched her DNA or her parents. She was an anomaly.
As she walked out of the front door of the court, Gillian thought, "Where does an anomaly find home?" She put up her umbrella because it was pouring, and began walking home. She couldn't afford a cab today. She no longer had a job. Plus, her apartment was only two blocks away. In this rain, she couldn't possibly meet any trouble on her way home, and while she might get soaked, a hot bath would be waiting for her when she got home.
An hour later, Gillian was still walking. Apparently being deep in thought, she had passed her turn to the street of her apartment and had simply continued walking. After throwing her umbrella down the street, and watching it get run over by a car, she looked up at the sky and shouted, crying and laughing at the same time. She slowly fell to her knees on the pavement, and just allowed the rain to fall on her, feeling it drip down her skin, soaking her to the bone. She did not know how long she was out in the rain. She did not care. She had no idea what to do.
"Ma'am?" a kind voice called out.
Gillian looked up. There was a person running out of a large building with Greek pillars with a large, apparently windproof, umbrella, and what appeared to be a large fluffy towel, in hand. She could not tell much more in this downpour with her glasses in the state they were. Before she knew it, there was a large man next to her, patting her dry with a towel in the most awkward way imaginable, but holding the umbrella over her head at the same time. He had bright orange hair, with pale blue eyes, and oddly enough, no freckles on his pale white skin. "Apparently, he lives inside," Gillian thought.
"Ma'am," the man continued, looking back at her, his eyes full of concern, "we have been expecting you. Athena will be quite cross with me if you are late or harmed in any way. You are quite wet and cold from being out in the rain. Are you sound?"
Gillian laughed and looked down at her hands. "It depends on what you mean by sound," she said darkly.
The man scratched his head with the hand not holding the umbrella, leaving the fluffy towel upon her drenched shoulders. "Um... I would hope you are actually all the types of sound," he said after pondering that for a moment. "I have been told you are very important to one of her current projects. If you have been harmed in any way by cause of my delay in finding a dry, warm towel, I apologize."
Gillian looked back up at the man. "You don't get out much, do you, buddy? Your friend, Athena..."
"Oh, I wouldn't ever dare call her a friend..." the man interjected.
"Okay, Athena must have the wrong girl. I was just fired today, and told just how useless I am. I have rent due, a recovering cat at home, and so many problems to sort out. Furthermore, I have no idea where I am in a city I know quite well. How do I get back to 8th Street and Porter from here?"
The man smiled. "Gillian," he said, surprising Gillian, because she had not told him her name, "Persephone is fine. She has already been transported here, along with all of your things. Furthermore, your rent has been paid until June of next year. Athena was uncertain how long your mission would take, so she took precautions so you could reenter your life seamlessly, if you so choose."
"How do you know my name?" Gillian began quizzically, then became suspicious and slightly angry, "How do you know the name of my cat!? Have you been spying on me? Are you a stalker?"
The man laughed. "I suppose everyone who works at 101 Pemberley Place could be considered stalkers. My name is Amon. I am the human contact of 101 Pemberley Place and help with any human relations Athena and the others require. I have lived here since I can remember. However, while I am more than happy to tell you more, I would much rather get out of this rain. Are you ready to get out of the rain as well? Or shall I leave you out here a while longer?"
"Amon..." Gillian murmured, "that means 'the hidden one.' You can't be..."
"Oh, definitely not," Amon laughed. "I know Amon-Ra. I have nothing in common with him. Please, follow me inside," he finished offering Gillian his hand.
Gillian pulled away. "You know Amon-Ra?" Gillian gasped, actually hearing what Amon was saying. "How is that possible?"
Amon smiled a knowing smile.
"He doesn't seem old enough to be able to smile like that," Gillian thought.
"Come inside," Amon said gently. "You are cold, wet, and you have had a very trying day. Please just believe me that there is no longer anything to worry about as far as your financial life is concerned. It has all been taken care of." He offered Gillian his hand again, and this time she accepted it.
Gillian followed Amon up the steps and into 101 Pemberley Place. She watched Amon press his hand onto the great brass door, and after a few seconds, it opened on its own accord. Gillian blinked twice. "They just must have really advanced security," she thought.
Amon gestured for Gillian to walk into the building before him. Gillian complied, as at this moment, she was just really ready for her hot bath. As soon as she passed through the door though, she could not fail to look up and gaze at the beauty that surrounded her. The entry way of 101 Pemberley Place was composed entirely of fine marble. Unlike in the time of the origin of this style, it was not painted, but was beautiful all the same. There was fine filigree of leaves, and scrolls all along where the ceiling met the wall, and along each wall were sculptures of Gods and Goddesses. Unlike sculpture of this style however, Gillian quickly noticed that some of the Gods and Goddesses portrayed were not Classical Greek or Roman Gods or Goddesses. For example, Grandmother Spider was portrayed. Gillian just stared in front of that statue for a moment, as Amon caught up with her after closing the door, a procedure he was happy Gillian was occupied while he performed. "She's already so fragile today," he thought. "I will tell Athena she requires a few days to acclimate before she receives the grand tour."
He noticed she was looking at the Grandmother Spider statue, "Do you like spiders?" he asked.
"I'm pretty indifferent about them," Gillian said, still staring at the statue. "However, the detail in this statue is amazing. Who carved it?"
Amon smiled a knowing smile again, thought about exactly how he wanted to answer with Gillian's frayed nerves, and decided he didn't, so he said, "It wasn't carved. I believe you are exhausted and would like to warm up. All of your things have been moved upstairs, so if you would just follow me, I will take you to the new location of your apartment."
Gillian nodded, and followed Amon through all the statues to the other end of the hall with a great staircase on one side, also in marble, and two giant brass doors beside it. Amon walked to the stairs without a glance at the brass doors, so Gillian was curious, and asked, "Amon, what is behind the doors?"
Amon smiled widely. "Perhaps, it will be her curiosity that will save her from insanity," he thought. "The organization that resides within this building," he answered, thinking that this was the absolutely truth, but not the part that may be hard for Gillian to accept. "They have a lot of security measures to keep people outside of the organization safe."
"Because they are dangerous?" Gillian asked.
Amon laughed. "Not really," he responded. "People, in this time, have so many delusions about how the world works. If you disprove them, they often lose their grasp on reality completely. While many of the beings beyond that door are not what I would call gentle souls, they would rather the general populace did not go insane." He offered Gillian his hand, and they began to climb the stairs.
"You said 'beings' not 'humans,'" Gillian noticed, "Are there aliens behind the door?"
Amon just smiled. "Most of them were born here," he said gently, "so I do not believe you would call them aliens. Hopefully, soon, you will call some of them friends."
Amon pressed his hand onto a door at the top of the stairs. While it was much smaller, it swung open after a few seconds just like the door from outside. Amon, again, allowed Gillian to walk in before him, and quickly closed the door behind him, making it disappear. Gillian was in awe of all of the paintings on either side of the walls. "Are all of these real!?" she gasped.
"Oh, no," Amon responded, very happy she had not noticed how he had to close doors here. "They are copies. None of them are real. I enjoy fine art, so I decorated. I hope you do not mind..."
"Mind!?" Gillian responded sarcastically, "Honey, can you redecorate my apartment? This is amazing! I have not seen any of the real paintings in person, but I have admired all of them on the Internet and in textbooks during my art history class."
Amon smiled. "I am pleased to know you have that level of acculturation," he responded. "I am more than happy to help you adjust your apartment, once you are well rested, and I believe that soon, you will be able to make adjustments yourself. It will just take a little while for you to get used to how things work here."
"How things work here?" Gillian repeated, sounding very confused.
"It's a bit different here than anywhere else you may have been," Amon responded, taking a key out of his pocket to unlock the door to Gillian's apartment. "See for yourself," he finished, gesturing for Gillian to enter her apartment through the open door.
Gillian walked through the door. She was in her apartment on 8th and Porter. How was she in her apartment on 8th and Porter? Everything was there, including Persephone, who was purring on her sofa, and looking much healthier than when she had left for work this morning. Gillian dropped her briefcase on the floor in shock.
"Is Persephone okay?" Amon asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
Gillian double blinked. "She looks better than she did this morning," Gillian mumbled, still in shock. Persephone jumped off the couch gracefully, and ran straight for Amon. She began rubbing around his legs vigorously and purring, until Amon crouched down and began scratching behind her ears.
"I may be slightly responsible for that," Amon admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "I fed her some salmon when your apartment arrived. She looked hungry, and she wasn't feeling well. It seemed to have really helped."
"Salmon, did this?" Gillian squeaked. "I just spent $3,000 at the vet, getting yarn out of this cat's belly, and salmon fixes her?"
Amon looked up at Gillian with a big smile showing he was extremely uncomfortable with this situation. "It was really good salmon?" he proffered.
"Amon, what else did you do to help my cat?" Gillian said with a scowl.
"I may have helped her feel better with some petting. I really like black cats, and she looked absolutely miserable. Plus, Athena could not tolerate her yowling. She thought it was the apartment making the noise, and was threatening to send it back. However, I was able to explain that instead, no, you had a pet cat. The apartment did not yowl."
"You fixed my cat with petting!?" Gillian said in disbelief. "Where were you earlier this week?"
"Preparing for your arrival," Amon said honestly. "If you had arrived on time, not late, today would not have occurred. However, you are here now, so all is well."
"I'm late to a place I have never been, and did not have knowledge of before today... How is that possible?" Gillian squeaked.
Amon sighed. He had not wanted to get into this tonight. He wanted her to rest so she would be more capable of accepting what he had to say, tomorrow. However, she was late, and there was so much to be done, so... "How about I tell you more about this place after you get out of your cold wet clothes, take a bath, and put on some dry clothes or pajamas or whatever?"
Gillian scowled. "I really don't feel comfortable doing that while you are here. I just met you. I..."
Amon blushed. "Of course! I apologize. I am used to dealing with Athena and her colleagues. They... um... they don't have the same... um... shyness that most humans do. I have gotten used to that as my normal. I apologize."
"People run around here naked?" Gillian asked trying to understand.
"Yes," Amon responded without hesitation, "quite frequently. Many of Athena's colleagues find clothing distasteful. It's generally not sexual, they just don't all wear clothes, and they are not shy about nakedness, at all. They find it, well, natural, and not something to talk about."
"So, if I was to run around naked...?"
"They would be surprised, and a bit concerned, as they do know of your past. For a human to be walking around naked when they were raised in a conventional way, at this time, is rather odd, and generally a cause for concern," Amon explained. "I will just leave now though, so you can bathe in peace. Just holler if anything works differently than how it did on 8th and Porter."
"I just talk to you, even though you are not in the room...?" Gillian asked.
"Yes," Amon said, "I live next door. I will hear you just fine, and be able to communicate with you."
"Will you be able to see me too?" Gillian asked, crossing her arms.
Amon smiled. "Only if you want me to," he grinned. "You'll figure it out." With that, Amon walked out of Gillian's apartment, and closed the door behind him.
Gillian sighed. She had no idea where she technically was, but it felt like home, so for right now, she would just run with it and take a bath. She thought of how wonderful it would feel, and suddenly she heard the water running in the bath. She was surprised by this, and walked quickly into the bathroom. The bath was run, and pleasantly hot, with bath salts she had not had since her 16th birthday, but were indeed her favorite. She disrobed, and slid into the tub. It felt heavenly.
While Gillian was not certain how long she was in the bath, the water never got cold, and when she got out of the bath, she was relaxed and very ready for sleep. She found a thick, plush robe on the doorknob, and put that on. She had never seen the robe before in her life, but it fit her perfectly, and she was far too tired to care. She walked from the bathroom into her bedroom, and crawled into bed next to Persephone, who was already half asleep, purring contentedly.
"Good night, Gillian," Gillian heard clear as day.
Without a second thought, she responded, "Good night, Amon," and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter 2
Gillian woke with a start. She just realized she had told Amon good night, without him being in the room. Had he heard her? She shook her head. That was all far too much to believe to be possible. She walked out into her kitchen, and found her favorite breakfast, Toad in the Hole, had already been prepared and was sitting on the counter at her usual stool. She had two stools, just in case she met someone, but she always sat on the one closest to her bedroom. She sat down and cautiously examined the food. It looked like her favorite breakfast. It smelled like her favorite breakfast. Oh God, it tasted like her favorite breakfast, but with farm fresh eggs and fresh baked bread. Gillian gobbled down the breakfast, and thought that she could eat another. Immediately the second piece of bread filled with egg and cooked to perfection was on her plate. She didn't even see how it got there. She ate the second portion, then pushed the plate away from her. She was definitely full now. She looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. She had no idea how this had happened. She looked back down: her plate was gone. She quickly popped up from her stool and looked in the cupboard. There was the plate she had eaten breakfast upon, washed, warm, and put away in its spot.
"Amon!" Gillian shouted out loud. "Could you please come visit me? I have a few questions!"
Amon appeared in front of her. "Yes, Gillian?" he asked.
Gillian jumped. Amon had appeared before her. How was that possible? How was any of this possible? "Amon," she began slowly, trying to decide which question she wanted to ask first, "where are we, exactly? Is this a dream? Am I dead?"
Amon laughed. "You're certainly not dead, and you just woke up and ate breakfast, remember?"
"I remember, but I have had dreams that made more sense than last night and this morning. I used bath salts last night that I used up when I was 16, and I didn't put them in the tub, they were just there. Oh, and the bath never got cold, it stayed warm the entire time I was in the tub. Perhaps that is too much information for you, but... I'm kind of freaking out here! Then, there was my breakfast. Yes, this is my favorite breakfast. Yes, it was perfectly prepared, but who prepared it? Did you? I mean, I was not up at 4 a.m. to gather farm fresh eggs and bake bread, and that was exactly how it tasted."
"Slow down," Amon cautioned, putting a hand on Gillian's shoulder, "breathe. I will explain everything, okay? Another big breath. Good job."
"Well?" Gillian asked, waiting for her explanation.
"Why don't we go over to my apartment, and that will explain a lot of this for you?" Amon suggested.
"Okay," Gillian agreed, thinking if it helped her understand, she was willing to try just about anything right now. "Let me go get... wait!? That is... Amon, this is what I'm talking about!!!!" As Gillian was speaking the clothing she had aimed to wear today had appeared upon her, and her robe was now hanging up in the bathroom on a hook that had not been there before, but was expressly for that purpose.
Amon smiled. "Wow, Gillian, you're a natural," he said earnestly. "Soon, I may be asking you to help adjust my apartment."
"What do you mean 'adjust'?" Gillian asked. "Let's start really simple: who made my breakfast?"
"You did," Amon answered without hesitation.
"I did?" Gillian asked, quizzically, "But I didn't lift a finger this morning. Nor did I wash my plate, which was washed by the way, and ended up back in the cupboard where it belonged. Except, I didn't see it move to get there. I just checked in the cupboard when I was done eating, and it was there, warm, clean and obviously recently washed. How did I do that?"
"You thought about it, right? It was your favorite breakfast, yes? Not mine, not Athena's, yours. And imagining your favorite breakfast with the best ingredients isn't that hard for someone with an imagination such as yours. This place simply does not have the barriers that the rest of the physical plane does upon manifestation delay."
"On what!?" Gillian asked.
"Manifestation delay. Generally, most humans in this age must wait and hope and pray that their greatest desires come true during their lifetimes. To do so, they must think positively, consistently, and with great ardor for their desires to materialize. It happens, don't get me wrong, and generally in the most positive way possible for them in their time, but things like having your breakfast make itself: people don't think about that as a possibility, so it doesn't happen. Here, impossible doesn't exist, at least not for the simple human mind. I have tried to test it many, many times, and I have yet to find a manifestation I could not conjure once I could see it clearly in my mind."
"So, I made the bath what I wanted last night, and breakfast this morning, and that beautiful robe, and changing my clothes... I did all of it?"
"Yes, and I am certain you will quickly be capable of much, much more, as soon as it seems more comfortable. Why not try something now?"
Gillian closed her eyes. A dozen red roses dropped into her lap, a large pile of money appeared in the corner of the room, and a lion sat on her feet and head butted her to be petted. Gillian opened her eyes and began petting the lion. She looked at Amon. "I believe I am beginning to understand," she said, continuing to pet the lion, who was now nuzzling her hand with his giant mane.
Amon smiled. "I would say so!" he exclaimed happily. "I have just received word from Athena. I am required in headquarters. She would like you to take a day or so to acclimate and get used to your old but new apartment. Know that the sky is the limit. The only things I would caution you against would be any action that could harm others your yourself. Karma is pretty ruthless about manifesting to the detriment of others."
"Karma is a person?" Gillian asked, confused.
"No," Amon said with a smile, deciding that Gillian could get in on the secret a little, "Karma is a goddess. She is not from this galaxy, but she works in all of the universes, as her skills and reputation are well-known and generally, in the long run, appreciated."
"So, if I went downstairs, and Karma was visiting, I could meet Karma?" Gillian said, slightly shocked.
"Yes, definitely," Amon agreed. "I wouldn't necessarily wish for that, because well, with the lack of manifestation delay, it could come true on a day you would like to delay Karma, which would be unfortunate. But yes, it is definitely possible."
Gillian sent the lion back to whence he came, as she was uncertain what lions ate for breakfast, and stood. "I agree with Athena, who I am guessing is also a goddess?"
"Yes, she most certainly is," Amon confirmed.
"Well, I agree with her that I would like to acclimate to my new/old apartment before going downstairs with you. I think meeting Athena and the others may be a bit much for me today, and I would like to get used to the idea that I can bring things into being simply with the power of my mind."
Amon smiled with a look that said he understood perfectly. "I will leave you to your acclimation then. I hope you have a lovely day, Gillian. If you require anything, please just holler. Your telepathy switch is on, and I can hear you just fine."
"Telep..." Gillian began aloud, then continued in her mind, "You mean that is how you heard me say good night to you last night? I was speaking telepathically."
"Yes," Amon responded telepathically. "It was very considerate of you to say such a thing, being so new here and having such a day. I greatly appreciated it. I have been the only human here for as long as I can remember. It's often lonely. I am excited to have another human to speak with, as it is a very different perspective than most gods have. I hope we can become friends."
Gillian plopped back down on the couch. She was telepathic. She could summon things with her mind. This was... a lot.
"Did you hear my response, Gillian?" Amon asked aloud, suddenly concerned. Gillian did not look well.
"Yes, every word," Gillian responded telepathically.
Amon sighed, and stood, offering her his hand. "You need rest," he said. "It is the only way you will be able to process this much new information about your reality without any ill to yourself. It's back to bed for you."
Gillian stood, accepted Amon's hand, and allowed him to lead her back into her bedroom. She sat on the bed, imagined her pajamas, and was immediately in them. She crawled under the covers, and Amon tucked her into bed. He placed a warm hand on her head. "Sleep," he said, and immediately Gillian fell asleep.
Amon waited to hear Gillian's deep breathing for a few minutes before he allowed his hand to shift. Gillian was truly gifted in manifestation, especially for someone who had just arrived. He had to make sure that his abilities actually stuck. She seemed to be deeply asleep, when he heard, "Amon! Where are you? I summoned you fifteen minutes ago!"
"I am on my way, Goddess," Amon responded telepathically, quickly materializing to the part of headquarters where Athena was located. As he materialized, he quickly armed himself, and took stock of what the blurry vision he had at the moment could be. To his discernment, it looked like Athena's office. If so, he would not immediately be in danger upon arrival, in 80 percent of cases. However, in the other 20 percent, Athena had someone nasty in her office that he would have to be incredibly careful of, especially arriving like this "unannounced." It was considered rude by most metaphysical beings if you were not on the offensive of an attack to arrive unannounced. However, Amon had not yet mastered how to make a sound in the place where he intended to arrive before materializing himself there. Athena found this hilarious, and therefore asked him to materialize on every occasion he was summoned. Amon wished she would just show him how to create a metaphysical doorbell like most of her friends and colleagues used.
Amon fully materialized and stood on guard with his sword raised for a second scanning the room.
"I am always pleased when I find you are learning, Amon," Athena said with a smug smile. "However, I am the only being present in my office today. You can sheath your sword."
Amon relaxed immediately and put the sword away. He didn't carry a sheath; that would be far too obvious. An armed human was looking for trouble. An unarmed human was stupid. He had found that being underestimated was the safest course of action with most of the gods, and one he worked very hard to maintain for his well-being. "You are looking well today, Goddess. What desire prompted my summoning?" he asked politely.
Athena smiled. "Gillian, of course," she purred. "It seems she is far more rattled from being fired and arriving here than I had hoped. Her being late does not help matters, but it will have to be tolerated. I greatly approve of your putting her to sleep when she was overloaded. That was a very wise course of action, Amon, and I applaud you for thinking on your feet. I would hope that it is less necessary in the days to come, but I have sent a dreamweaver to her apartment to help her learn as she sleeps, and for her sleep to be most restful. What is your assessment of the girl so far?"
Amon thought for a second. Athena, and all of the other gods and goddesses for that matter, always had a very different idea of what was important, than he ever did. If he was to answer the question for himself, he would have said Gillian was an extremely attractive girl with light brown hair and green eyes, in extremely good shape for a person with a desk job, and a decent person, considering the care she took of her cat. However, he knew that none of these things would interest Athena at all, so he decided to talk about her metaphysical abilities instead. "She is extremely gifted with manifestation, and I fear she scared herself this morning. Happily, none of her manifestations were meant to kill me, which I greatly appreciated, but they were pretty big for a first day realizing you have real power."
"What were her manifestations?" Athena asked, suddenly very interested.
"The dozen roses, the huge pile of money, and the lion were what she did consciously. The lion was extremely impressive because he was kind, and just wanted her to pet him. She had not only woven quality, type, sex and size of cat, but she also attended to temperament. It was all of the manifestation she did on accident from the moment she arrived that impressed me. She ran a bath, cooked herself breakfast, gave herself a new fluffy robe, and wished me good night telepathically, all without thinking about it. Athena, is this girl entirely human? It took me years to manifest anything, and even then, it was sloppy, and didn't necessarily look like what I intended."
"I am well aware of your progress, Amon," Athena interrupted him. "I am not certain. It is prophesied that a transcriber, like Gillian, will come to us in a time of great need, and help us retain our existence. However, I am uncertain if Gillian is the transcriber or that it is someone else. Case in point: she was late, according to the prophecy. So, it could be someone else entirely, or we missed out on that prophecy completely because of her or someone else's delay. The seers and mystics have it on good authority that Gillian is the one, but you know how much faith I place in them."
"About as much as you place in me ever learning how to fly," Amon responded looking down at his shoes.
It had been one of his greatest dreams since living at 101 Pemberley Place to learn how to fly like the other beings there. Athena believed he could not learn because he was too attached to his physical body. Amon was so frustrated at this point he was not sure why he couldn't anymore. However, it was how Athena felt about the mystics. She would keep a look out for what they said coming true, and have all of their prophecies recorded by the scribes, but she wouldn't ever necessarily hold her breath to wait for it to come true, or plan her day around them. If one of the end results of a prophecy was something that Athena particularly desired, she would attempt to plan to cause it to be true. However, she did not believe the mystics made that happen: she believed she did. Or as Amon sometimes thought, there had to be another word for vanity with more emphasis for the confidence most gods and goddesses had in themselves and their abilities. He just didn't know exactly what that word would be.
"Exactly," Athena agreed. "So, I would like to take all due care with Gillian, if she is indeed the one, but if she is not, I am certain we will find another way."
"We, as in you and I?" Amon clarified, hoping that was definitely not the case. He did not, under any circumstances, wish to be under Athena's disapproval if he failed.
"No, we as in all of us at 101 Pemberley Place. I would not entrust that much responsibility to you, Amon. Not yet, anyway. I do not think you're quite ready, and I greatly appreciate the work you do for this organization. I certainly do not wish to replace you any time soon. That would be most inconvenient."
"Thank you, I think," Amon responded. Athena's compliments were never straight forward, but he was used to this now. He knew that while she would never outwardly thank him in a way most humans would, she had saved his life on at least 4 occasions after various blunders he had made. She would not have done that had she not cared. He knew how ruthless she could be when she was angry.
"You are most welcome," Athena responded.
Amon sighed. He was glad he had interpreted the backwards compliment correctly.
"I would like you to continue to keep a close eye on Gillian," Athena continued, ignoring Amon's sigh. "I require to speak with her as soon as you deem her fit to learn about us. Her services in transcription are so very desperately needed. You understand?"
"Yes, Goddess," Amon said, nodding.
"Very good," Athena replied. "Then, that is all that I require of you for today. Has all of the Earthly garbage been taken care of for this month?"
Amon smiled, and responded, "Yes, Goddess, it has all been taken care of, along with the 'Earthly Garbage' Gillian brought with her."
The "Earthly garbage" as Athena referred to it, was indeed his job. Athena hated the "Earthly garbage," which was why he had become indispensable. With him there, she did not need to attend to paying the mortgage, the utility bills, greeting anyone at the door who should not be there, collecting the mail, and answering any messages and communications from sister agencies in other parts of the world. All of that she no longer had to attend to, because Amon knew, he had done an excellent job. Furthermore, the mail they received and the communications from the statues (who weren't really statues but crystallized images of the gods and goddesses who were the chiefs of staff of the sister agencies) were now addressed c/o Amon. He took that with pride every time he received mail. The esteemed beings he worked with remembered him. He mattered.
"Excellent," Athena responded, looking down at something on her desk. "That is all."
Amon materialized back to his apartment. Athena always dismissed him thus. She had so very much to do. Amon looked around his apartment. The truth was, it had not looked like an apartment for a very long time. It looked like the night sky. Amon found that, within this environment, it was easiest for him to conjure whatever he required to complete his work and concentrate well. When he required a bed, he conjured it. When he was hungry, he conjured a meal. He sat in mid air and began his daily meditation. Not long into his meditation, Amon heard, "Amon, call from Grandmother Spider. Amon, call from Grandmother Spider." Amon stood, and materialized down to the main hall. The statue had already become animated, and was very ready to speak to him.
"Good morning, Amon," the statue spoke. "Don't you look skinny? Have you been remembering to eat regularly?"
"Yes, Grandmother Spider," Amon replied respectfully. "I have been very worried about our new guest, and I believe that raises my metabolism a bit. What do you require this morning?"
"I would like to speak with Athena, Amon. I have heard rumors that you acquired the transcriber from the prophecy. I would like to speak with her as soon as she is acclimated. I believe I can help determine if she is indeed the right girl, or if the mystics got the date wrong again. And if it is the latter, I may be having an early lunch."
Amon gulped. He really liked Grandmother Spider, but was very happy he worked for Athena and not her. Athena yelled, and transformed you into something weird if she got really mad. Once she calmed down, she turned you back, and had a long discussion about your behavior. Grandmother Spider ate those who acted in ways she did not like. Amon was very happy he worked for Athena. Amon quickly telepathically asked Athena if she would be available for a communication from Grandmother Spider. Athena replied to patch her through without delay.
"I will send your message right through," Amon said, after receiving the message from Athena. "Is there anything else you require from me before I do so?"
"No, Amon," Grandmother Spider said with a smile that would have been terrifying, had Amon not been talking to her like this since he was 6, "a pleasure as always."
The life that had appeared in the statue vanished, and it was clear that Grandmother Spider's shade was now talking to Athena in her office.
Amon checked all the other statues before materializing upstairs. He did not have any other incoming messages so he could return to his meditation. He settled back into lotus position and began.
"Amon," Gillian asked telepathically, "can you answer more of my questions now?"
Amon sighed. He just was not going to get to his meditation today. He materialized into Gillian's apartment. "Yes, Gillian," he asked, appearing in her bedroom.
Gillian was still in bed, in her pajamas, and looked like she had just woken up. Amon felt kind of awkward being in her bedroom with her in that state, as it was generally a rather vulnerable time for him, but she had summoned him, so here he was. Gillian sat up, and attempted to pat down her bed head, which did nothing but make it stick up more. "The dreamweaver had done its work extraordinarily well," Amon thought. "I will have to tell Athena so it gets properly compensated."
"Amon, I would like to know exactly why I am here, what I was 'late' for, and what your intentions are," Gillian said, sitting up and looking very much better in spite of her state of dress.
Amon gulped. "My intentions?" he asked, surprised not only by the question, but that Gillian would care.
"Yes, your intentions," Gillian responded confidently. "You are a young man who is obviously single, and has not been out in the world. You are currently my only point of contact of how this world works, which means, I have to trust you to figure out how to live here. I need to know if your intentions are honorable, or if you want to fuck with me, or quite frankly, fuck me."
Amon double blinked. He didn't think about sex often at all, especially for a man his age. He didn't have time. He had to be available at all times for Athena. Thinking about sex would make him distracted, and that would cause him to be much worse at his job, and probably incapable of manifesting anything, which would make him useless. He really couldn't afford that with his employers. "How could he explain that to Gillian?" he thought. "Well, I may as well start at the beginning."
"I do not have any intentions," Amon began. "I am here to help you acclimate to 101 Pemberley Place, and then, hand you over to Athena so she may use your transcription skills as detailed in the prophecy. I would love to have you as a friend, but I do not dare hope for such a thing. You're needed for much greater work than anything dealing with me. My only intention is to deliver you to Athena in one piece."
Gillian smiled. "Then, that makes that simpler," she said. "Why am I here? What is this prophecy?"
"I'm not exactly sure," Amon responded, looking sheepish. "Athena has not told me what the prophecy is. She told me you were important, gifted, and that your transcription skills could aid in saving the gods and goddesses from some great tragedy. That's all I know. You will have to acclimate and talk to Athena directly to learn more about why you are here."
"So, I am here to do the job I did at the city court?"
"More or less," Amon replied. "You will be transcribing for various gods and goddesses information dictated in quality and quantity by Athena. Other than that, your position here will grow, or not, depending on how your abilities to work within this building progress."
"So my making a lion appear was a good thing?" Gillian asked for clarification.
"Yes!" Amon agreed strongly. "I believe your job could grow substantially, if you want it to."
"If I want it to?" Gillian asked, confused.
"You are free to leave at any time," Amon said gently. "You are not a prisoner here. You can always leave. Athena and I would prefer if you didn't, because you could be of great use to us, but it is always an option you have."
"Are you also free to leave?" Gillian asked.
"Yes," Amon said without hesitation. "However, I never will."
"Why is that?" Gillian asked.
"Because this is my home," Amon said with a sad smile that made Gillian question exactly how happy Amon was being here. "I have lived here since I can remember. It would be incredibly difficult for me to acclimate into a world without the ability to manifest or adjust my reality. Furthermore, I do not have any life skills that would allow me to work for income."
"I think you do," Gillian interrupted him. "I think you have all of the skills of an executive secretary, and probably more. Athena has trained you extremely well for that position."
"Well, if I left, I wouldn't really have a reference," Amon said with a small chuckle. "Who would believe I worked for Athena for years? They'd just lock me up and say I was crazy."
"Amon," Gillian asked gently, "have they brainwashed you? Have you ever lived in the outside world? You are extremely capable as a human. I think you would do just fine outside this building."
Amon smiled sadly again. "Thank you, I think," he said quietly, "but this is my home. I will stay here. Do you have any further questions?"
Gillian thought for a moment. She had thousands of questions, but she had hit a nerve, and Amon looked incredibly sad. "Have you eaten breakfast?" she asked, thinking she would postpone grilling him until after he had eaten.
Amon thought for a moment. "No," he said. "I generally eat after I have finished with my morning meditation, and I have had a few interruptions this morning. It's not a problem, I assure you. I like feeling useful."
Gillian smiled at him gently, and said, "Why don't you go finish your meditation, and I will make you breakfast when you come back after you're finished?"
Amon smiled widely, "I would like that very much," he said. "I'll see you in 20 minutes," and he materialized out of Gillian's apartment.
Gillian sighed. Amon was a very sweet man, but he was so very naive. She wasn't certain he had Stockholm syndrome, if he was indeed brainwashed, or if, being taken in here as an orphan, he simply did not know any other way to live, and thus, was happy with his version of reality.
She was feeling much better after her nap. She stood stretched, and manifested her outfit for the remainder of the day and braided her hair. She walked to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. "I suppose I am as presentable to meet a goddess as I ever will be," she murmured to herself. She took a deep breath, then asked telepathically, "Athena, I require an audience."
Athena appeared before her. Gillian froze. Athena was stunning. She almost looked human, but not quite. Her entire being was translucent and sparkled. Her eyes were slightly too large, her ears were slightly too small, and her figure was a caricature of how beautiful a woman could be in one's imagination. "Ah, so you can see me," Athena said, sitting down upon Gillian's sofa without a hesitation. "That is a good start. What else can you do, girl?"
Gillian looked Athena straight in the eyes. "I can type at 100 words per minute," she said. "Amon has told me that my transcription skills are what you called me here to do. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Athena replied with a smile. "Has Amon told you anything more?"
"Not really," Gillian responded. "He told me he really didn't know anything more."
Athena smiled again. Gillian, for whatever reason, did not see Athena's smile as something that made her more attractive, like it did for many humans. She felt like a mouse that a tiger was baring its teeth at, and that she looked like a tasty tidbit, not a fully grown human. "I am pleased," Athena said. "I have told him nothing. You are extremely important to the future of this agency. I require you to write down our stories, and if possible, publish them, with great popularity. Amon will help you with the second portion. He has become quite skilled at manifesting such occurrences and serendipities outside of these walls."
"Why doesn't Amon know exactly how indispensable he is for this organization? He is so very modest," Gillian asked.
Athena looked at Gillian and cocked her head to the side. "So, you are indeed the one," she said with a smile. "Excellent." She stood, and looked as though she prepared to leave.
"Ma'am," Gillian said, trying to prevent her from leaving so quickly, "you did not answer my question."
Athena smiled again, this time with teeth. Gillian tried not to wince outwardly at this. Athena softened, and began, "I found Amon on the steps of this building as a baby. He had been abandoned by his birth parents here. I have no idea why, because the child showed no defect whatsoever. However, as Amon was capable of sight, I took him in as an apprentice."
"He began working here as a baby?" Gillian asked. "He has never had a parental figure, or a sibling, or a friend?"
"No," Athena said with a shrug. "He has had an extensive, comprehensive and varied education. He is capable of manifestation at a magnitude most humans can only dream of, and he has never wanted for anything. I think he has grown up into a strong young man, albeit with a distinct lack of self-esteem, because of his position to only deal with gods and goddesses, and not his own kind. I know for certain he would most desperately love to have you as a friend, but if you choose to befriend all of my colleagues instead, he will understand. We're pretty awesome," she finished with a smile. "You may find you have more in common with us, than you do with Amon," Athena continued, but then stopped abruptly, "but only time will tell."
And with that, she disappeared, leaving Gillian alone in her apartment. In her head, Gillian heard, "I would like to take you on a tour tomorrow at 0800. Please do not be late. I loathe tardiness."
"Yes, ma'am," Gillian responded as respectfully as she could think, plopping down on her sofa, deep in thought.
Just as Gillian thought her message to Athena, Amon appeared, smiling, plopping down on the couch next to Gillian. "I am ready for breakfast," he announced, then he frowned. "Was Athena here?" he asked.
"Yes," Gillian said, "I asked for an audience while you were meditating. She answered some of my questions."
"She came here? Into your apartment? I mean, you could see her, here?" Amon asked quickly, and sounding very surprised.
"Yes," Gillian said, putting a hand on his shoulder because Amon looked upset. Amon jumped, and her hand fell off and back to her side. "Is that unusual?"
"YES!!!" Amon burst. "Athena has only visited me in my apartment if I was very ill, and when she did so, I could not see her. I could sense her, and she helped heal me from my illness, but I could not see her. What does she look like on Earth?"
"She is extremely beautiful," Gillian began, "except for when she smiles. Then, she is utterly terrifying."
Amon laughed. "That was Athena for sure then," he said with a sad smile. "That describes what she looks like in the office to a tee." Amon took a deep breath then tried to continue positively while looking at his lap, "I am happy that you are so very gifted, Gillian, and will be able to help my boss."
Gillian cupped Amon's chin in her hand, and raised his face to look into his eyes. "Amon," she said confidently, "I would like to be your friend."
Amon's eyes got wide, then the blue in them looked slightly wet. "Are you certain?" he asked, looking away and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "I have never had a friend before, so I will probably take a little while to get the hang of it. I'm not as gifted as you, Gillian."
"I am certain," Gillian said, catching his gaze again so he could see that she was serious. "Do you like hugs?" she asked, "Because I could definitely use one with all I have gone through in the past few days."
"I don't know," Amon answered honestly. "I've only read about them in books."
Gillian smiled, and wrapped her arms around Amon. He was pleasantly warm, probably from his meditation, but very thin. "He probably forgets to eat pretty often," Gillian thought. Amon turned in Gillian's hug, and wrapped his arms around her. Suddenly, Gillian more at peace than she had in her entire life. Not realizing what they were doing, both Amon and Gillian laid down on the sofa, still wrapped in each other's arms, and fell asleep.
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