I shuck off my jacket bearing the official insignia of the Transmission Department and my badge of rank, hanging it up on a coat hanger mounted against the wall of my office for such a purpose. Shutting off my monitoring equipment, I set the tower to auto transmit for the rest of the day. I can deal with the return messages when I get back to the office tomorrow. I run through my calendar one more time.

Shit. I'm on recharge duty for the next three days of the week. Bulwarks are powered by the divine energies so kindly bestowed by the gods. That means the Valkyries and Auxilia who return from deployment fire off a generic prayer to their favorite divine, praying for strength and victory. The divine in question then issues a reply that when received by the supplicant, recharges and repairs the bulwark. Its a good thing that pilots record boiler plate prayers like these on a thumb drive before actually showing up at the station. I can transmit the prayer directly from my office without any fuss and just call them to enter the receiving room once the response is deciphered.

Three days of late nights. Sometimes I wish the requirements for Operators were loosened up a bit. To even qualify to attend the first round of screening, you needed to pass a political reliability test. Prove your loyalty to the Leader. Show your love to the chorus. That meant most Operators were by default retired civil servants or veterans. Not surprising since manning the towers is a matter of national security. The high pay enticed applicants, despite the risks involved. And as long as you served for only two years, suffering from outright insanity was rare. You might become eccentric or awkward, but its really something most people can deal with.

At the age most Operators join the service, money was the bigger concern than anything else. What's staring emptily into space compared to getting a big pay check? Most people would voluntarily stare away, as long as the money kept coming.

Locking up my office, I head to the security counter where Olivia is stationed. She looks up with a quizzical expression on her face.

"Need to make a booking for transmitter time." I say, "Personal matter. Sometime later this week, maybe?"

Olivia flips through the logbook on her table and remarks, "I can fit you in day after next. You can use your own transmitter once you're done with the recharge cases."

"Cool." I give a thumbs up and prepare to walk away. But before I can leave, Olivia chimes in once more.

"There's been another complaint against you Don." Olivia says, "Stop making and receiving private prayers meant for yourself in your own office. The receiver rooms and prayer booths are there for a reason. Use them. People get freaked out at the possibility of going insane on the off chance hearing the wrong thing."

And get eavesdropped on? No thanks. I keep a portable audio player and a pair of earphones for just this reason. I am also sure this complaint was completely fabricated on the fly by you as well.

"There's no rule saying I need to use the receiver room Olivia." I frown, "I don't want to bother others either. We get massive queues each day at the receiver rooms and prayer booths without me adding to the backlog. Who's the complainant anyway? I'll have a word with them."

Olivia just sighs and nods. She knows what I'm saying is true. What she does not know is that I am well aware of her actual position in the Transmission Department. Our dear Olivia is not merely a glorified bouncer slash security guard.

Yellow Rose. The one who casts aside the darkness with her radiance. And mercy cannot hide where the radiance shines. Secret policewoman in other words. The Order of the Yellow Rose really need to give the over dramatic language a rest, since people still get them mixed up with the death squads. The death squads are the Red Roses just to be clear. They are also cooler, if you can look past the whole death squad business.

Olivia, bless her heart, is the Yellow Rose assigned to hold my leash. When I heard that I was now important enough to have my own Yellow Rose agent watching my every move, I was scared sure, but also really flattered.

Then I was told that Olivia was here keeping track of a bunch of other Operators as well. My ego deflated pretty fast at that revelation.

"Its an anonymous complaint Don." Olivia waives my suggestion off, "I'm not going to allow you to go about harassing a colleague over some minor feud. See you tomorrow."

I waive goodbye in return and head towards the staff parking lot.

..............

"Reina likes vanilla!" The little girl with sparkling green eyes and a button nose says happily as the nurse brings her an ice cream cone just as I am walk through the clinic's entrance. A pack of kids mill about the clinic's waiting area generally making a nuisance of themselves.

"Here to see the doctor. Tell him its Don." I say to the nurse at reception, "What's up with all the kids anyway?"

The nurse smiles happily, "Its the children from Sunflower Orphanage. Did you know that the doctor provides free checkups and health screenings for them?"

Oh. Today's the day, huh? No wonder Jas wanted me to be here. "Yeah. Jas told me something like that before." I reply to the nurse.

"Oh right! You and the doctor are close friends right?" the nurse exclaims.

"Met during the Fallen War. Served in the same unit." I grunt, furrowing my brow at the memory.

"Make yourself at home Mr Kuat." the nurse responds kindly, "The doctor will need to deal with the children first and then he will see you."

I just nod distractedly. That girl, Reina is it? She begins sharing her ice cream with some of the other kids. A crying brat runs up to her and begins pulling at Reina's twin tails to get her attention. Before the nurse can go up and slap some sense into the brat, Reina hugs the boy and manages to calm him down.

Reina says gently to the nurse, "Its alright. Everyone is scared to go see the doctor, right?"

Reina then turns to the other kids and cheers, "Reina says let's smile! Let's show the doctor how brave everyone is ok?"

The other brats don't respond particularly enthusiastically, but at least they quieten down. "Reina, you're so brave!" the nurse exclaims with stars in her eyes.

"Reina just does her best." Reina replies shyly, "Reina just wants everyone to do their best."

"But Reina," the nurse exclaims, "you still have a fever. You should not be working so hard."

"Its ok." the girl murmurs, "Reina wants to help. And the doctor is going to make Reina all better right?"

Suddenly, the door to the consultation room opens and an elderly, silver haired Indian man peeks out and spots me sitting at the waiting area.

"Don? Come on in and take a load off in the empty surgery. It'll be a while before I can get to you." Jas tells me in his soft, educated voice.

"Could you see Reina first doctor?" the nurse shouts, "She's burning up."

"Send both of them to the surgery." Jas says after a bit of thought, "I'll give Reina some medication there."

.....

So I am left standing awkwardly about in the surgery while Reina sits on the surgical table, eyeing me cautiously. When is Jas going to get here? I'm feeling pretty weirded out now. Reina suddenly opens her mouth, but quickly clamps it back up with an almost audible snap. She then goes back to staring at me intently.

"If you want to say something, just say it." I tell the girl.

Reina falls into deep thought for a few moments at what I told her and finally seems to have made a decision.

"Reina says, the moon is a mysterious mistress." Reina speaks in a tense voice, filled with anticipation.

"Who walks the night with demons of dread." I answer, completing the quote.

Reina breaks into a wide smile upon me passing the test, "Finally, someone from home."