and he looked vaguely like a Klingon warrior, except for the pastel-green suit, of course. Maybe the agent for a Klingon warrior.
"So," he said, "if the squirrel people thought I was a bad guy, why did they save me from the sewer harpy in the train last week? They attacked her and gave me time to get away."
Audrey shrugged. "I don't know. They were supposed to just watch you and report back. They must have seen that what was after you was much worse than you. They are human, at heart, you know."
She paused in front of the pantry door and turned to them. She hadn't seen the debacle in the street, but Esther had been watching through the window and had told her what had happened - about the womanlike creatures that had been coming after Charlie. Evidently these strange men were allies of a sort, practicing what she had taken on as her holy work: helping souls to move to their next existence. But the method? Could she trust them?
"So, from what you guys are saying, there are thousands of humans walking around without souls?"
"Millions, probably," Charlie said.
"Maybe that explains the last election," she said, trying to buy time.
"You said you could see if people had one," said Minty Fresh.
He was right, but she'd seen the soulless and never thought about their sheer numbers, and what happened when the dead didn't match with the born. She shook her head. "So the transfer of souls depends on material acquisition? That's just so - I don't know - sleazy."
"Audrey, believe me," Charlie said, "we're both as baffled by the mechanics of it as you are, and we're instruments of it."
She looked at Charlie, really looked at him. He was telling the truth. He had come here to do the right thing. She threw open the pantry door and the red light spilled out on them.
The pantry was nearly as big as a modern bedroom, and every shelf from floor to ceiling and most of the floor space was covered with glowing soul vessels.
"Jeez," Charlie said.
"I got as many as I could - or, the squirrel people did."
Minty Fresh ducked into the pantry and stood in front of a shelf full of CDs and records. He grabbed a handful and started shuffling through them, then turned to her, holding up a half-dozen CD cases fanned out. "These are from my store."
"Yes. We got all of them," Audrey said.
"You broke into my store."
"She kept them from the bad guys, Minty," Charlie said, stepping in the pantry. "She probably saved them, maybe saved us."
"No way, man, none of this would be happening if it wasn't for her."
"No, it was always going to happen. I saw it in the other Great Big Book, in Arizona."
"I was just trying to help them," Audrey said.
Charlie was staring at the CDs in Minty's hand. He seemed to have fallen into some sort of trance, and reached out and took the CDs as if he were moving through some thick liquid - then shuffled away all but one, which he just stared at, then flipped over to look at the back. He sat down hard in the pantry and Audrey caught his head to keep him from bumping it on the shelf behind him.
"Charlie," she said. "Are you okay?"
Minty Fresh squatted down next to Charlie and looked at the CD - reached for it, but Charlie pulled it away. Minty looked at Audrey. "It's his wife," he said.
Audrey could see the name Rachel Asher scratched into the back of the CD case and she felt her heart breaking for poor Charlie. She put her arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Charlie. I'm so sorry."
Tears splattered on the CD case and Charlie wouldn't look up.
Minty Fresh stood and cleared his throat, his face clear of any rage or accusation. He seemed almost ashamed. "Audrey, I've been driving around the City for days, I could sure use a place to lie down if you have it."
She nodded, her face against Charlie's back. "Ask Esther, she'll show you."
Minty Fresh ducked out of the pantry.
Audrey held Charlie and rocked him for a long time, and even though he was lost in the world of that CD that held the love of his life, and she was outside, crouched in a pantry that glowed red with cosmic bric-a-brac, she cried with him.
After an hour passed, or maybe it was three, because that's the way time is in grief and love, Charlie turned to