Solomon's Sieve(25)

“Oh. Make it one hundred years then.”

The angel bowed and vanished before she changed her mind. He knew her habits all too well.

CHAPTER 8

Jefferson Unit, New Jersey

Rev Farthing went straight to the Sovereign’s office. He recognized the kid sitting at the assistant’s desk in the outer office. Bo Barrock.

Bo looked up. “Yes, sir? Can I help you?”

“Rev Farthing reporting for duty.” He looked toward the closed door. “Who’s the acting Sovereign?”

“Sir Catch. Glendennon Catch.”

“Sir Catch? Not Sovereign Catch?” Sol felt the same little rush of pride he always felt when one of his boys was inducted into the knighthood. That feeling of accomplishment never seemed to get old.

“No sir. It’s kind of a long story. Basically though, the unit Sovereign passed away and Glen, um, Sovereign Catch is one of the people filling in until he can be permanently replaced.”

“Thank you, Mr.,” Sol made a point of leaning back to read the on-duty-now name plate on the desk, “Barrock. Would it be possible for me to speak with Sir Catch?”

“Just a second, let me ask.” Bo rose and turned his back to Sol to knock lightly on the Sovereign’s door. He opened it, stuck his head in, and said something to Catch.

In another couple of seconds, the door was jerked wide open. Bo had to step out of the way as Glen advanced on Sol smiling with his hand out.

“Glendennon Catch. So glad to have you here.” Sol shook his hand. “You stiff from the flight? What is it? Ten hours?”

“Yeah. About that. And, no, I’m doing all right.”

Glen waved toward his office. “Good. Good. Come on in. You want something?”

“Well, to be honest, I haven’t had breakfast. I was going to check in with you and then try to scare something up.”

“No hunting necessary. We like to take first things first. Bo,” Glen turned to his assistant, “Get the kitchen to bring us the works.” Turning back to Sol, he said, “What do you like?”

“American all the way. Eggs. Bacon. Hash browns. Biscuits. Orange juice. Coffee.”

“No pancakes?”

Sol grinned at Glen. “A side of pancakes with warm maple syrup would be heaven.”

“Heaven, huh? Well, let’s see what we can do.” He motioned Sol into the office while he told Bo to bring the food to the conference room and call when it arrived.

When they were both seated in the office, Glen turned to Sol. “So. Again. Welcome. Bo said you asked to speak to me?”

“I did. I want to apply for the job of Sovereign.”

Glen had just raised a coffee cup to his lips and sputtered a little which caused some of the liquid to go down the wrong way and some to land on his keyboard. When Glen started wheezing, Sol stood up, but Glen stopped him with a wave. “Just give me a second,” he said in a strained and breathy voice as he tried to return his breathing to normal.

When he was once again in control of respiratory function, he looked across the desk at Sol with eyes slightly narrowed and a studious look on his face.

“What makes you think the position is open?”

“The HELP WANTED sign on the door.”

“Very funny.”

“I heard that you’re in line for impending field duty. Do you have somebody in line to take over here?”