“My name is Clarion Cole, I’m 29 years old, and I’m a demon hunter. That’s pretty much it.”

“I don’t believe that…but to follow your example, I’m Peal 004-19/R27-05332, I’m 58 years old, and I’m not sure what I am.”

I couldn’t mask my astonishment. “Did you say fifty-eight??”

“Well, yes; what’s wrong with- oh, right! That’s halfway through the average human’s lifespan!” She giggled. “Don’t worry; in angel years that’s more like 20 years old. I’ll be around for a long time yet~.”

“You’ll definitely outlive me, then.”

She looked at me. “That’s no reason not to love you. I think people should do whatever makes them happy, even if it can’t last forever.”

Oh, she was good. I decided to change the subject.

“So, what’s with your last name? Is it some kind of serial number?”

“Serial…no, it’s more like an identifier. It means I’m the fourth person named Peal to be born in the nineteenth colony, which is the Satellite, and I’m the twenty-seventh employee of the five thousand, three hundred thirty-second established organization, which is Saint Toll’s research team.”

“Informative.”

“Isn’t it, though? The full number is actually longer, but that’s as much as I’m legally required to memorize.”

She plucked a falling leaf from the air and twirled it between her fingers. “Besides…I might be changing it soon.”

I hoped that wasn’t the start of a marriage proposal. “What do you mean…?” I asked.

“It’s part of the reason I decided to ask you out yesterday. In the short run, it’s terrible timing, what with this Synthesis thing going on and humanity in an uproar…and of course, Knell’s uncertain future,” she said. “But in the long run…it could be my only chance.”

Her elbows and fingertips turned blue again. “I have to warn you…this is kind of a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got nothing but time out here,” I replied.

She smiled. “Okay…this starts from when I was a child.”

“Children in our society are born artificially. We used to…well, we used to do what humans do, but the system we have now is much more efficient for population control. If we don’t need any more people in a certain colony, we simply stop making them, and- well, I’m getting off topic now.

“Anyway, because no one has any parentage, children are assigned in groups to supervisors, older angels who are supposed to guide them on the road to adulthood. I was assigned to Saint Toll.

“He was always a demanding person. He wanted each of us to grow up and become useful to Colony 19, to become biologists, geologists, mathematicians, astronomers…and most of us did become those things. Things went well for everyone…except me.

“I never did well in school, and no one really knew why. I was just labelled as the slow one. Saint Toll always did whatever he could to help me, but I could tell I frustrated him. And I didn’t want to keep asking him for help forever. I wanted to be like my brothers and sisters and become good at something.

“When I finally got to the highest education level, I decided I wanted to be an alien behaviorist. I studied the lives of the demons and the aliens on the other planets we visited. It was fun, like just learning how to be friends with all kinds of creatures.

“But…I couldn’t pass the tests. Which meant I couldn’t get certified. Which meant that, no matter how much fun I had or how much I thought I understood, I was just wasting my time.

“Saint Toll eventually told me to quit trying with school and come work for him. I could still get certified with ten years of experience in a real research environment, rather than 2 years in school. He was trying to give me one last chance to be somebody, so I took it.

“Right now, I’m only in my third year,” she said, rubbing her arms. “And things are already falling apart.”

“It’s because of that thing with Knell…the unfinished messages, and everything after. I said before that Saint Toll didn’t trust me, but that was kind of an understatement. We’re not really…on speaking terms anymore. He only ever talks to me to give orders or belittle me; he hates me now.

“I think…Knell is very important to him, for some reason. And since I tried to cover up the fact that Knell existed, it was like I tried to keep him from reaching his ultimate goal, or something. And so he’s like, ‘What right do you have to cover up anything, you miserable failure of a scientist? What right do you have to decide what I do and don’t need to know?’ I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but at this point he might as well have. He’s said worse things already.

“Right now, I’m just his link to you. A face that you can trust, that’ll make it easier for him to get to you, and thus, to Knell. And it’s looking like, after he does get ahold of Knell, he’ll just fire me. Considering my academic record, they’ll never let me go back into schooling for the sciences…which means I’ll never be able to get certified, and I’ll never be able to come back to Earth…”

Peal’s dark green hair slowly sank down onto her shoulders, resting under gravity’s influence like human hair. Her face looked completely miserable; if she weren’t an angel she probably would have been in tears.

It was painful to look at her, so I turned away. “I don’t understand: why do you call this man a saint?” I asked. “He sounds pretty horrible to me.”

“’Saint’ is an approximation,” Peal explained. “The word in our native language is something more like…’someone whose thoughts and behaviors are guided by special knowledge’. ‘Saint’ is pretty close to that, and since the humans call us ‘angels’, a related word, it just caught on.”

“Alright. But what about the ‘ethics and morals’ they’re supposed to be known for; that you went on and on about? Is that a mistranslation, too?”

“…Maybe. After all the time I’ve spent on Earth, I think Saints are just…like humans. They have an internal sense of right and wrong, but they can also embrace whatever side of that dichotomy they choose, whenever they choose. And angels as a whole don’t care enough to make the distinction between Saints who do good, and Saints who…often don’t.

She took a deep breath. “Anyway, the point is that, since my life will basically be over soon, I just wanted to try to make a…happy memory to think about when I end up working in a convenience store or something. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you- I really do like you, but…well, there just isn’t any more time.”

She laid her head on my shoulder as we walked in silence. I decided to allow it.