God let out a frustrated noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl and pushed back from his desk. “It shouldn’t be happening; none of this!” He shot out of his chair and started pacing around his office. As he stepped, the clouds below the floor turned dark to match his mood. “It should be easy enough to stop the whole thing by stopping the tailor. What is wrong with the programming? How did it change and why won’t it go back?”
In his office there were three other people. Two were standing with God, behind his desk, analyzing line after line of code that all had to do with nothing more than the feather. The two men were John Mauchly and Bob Bemer. Bemer had only made his way to Heaven a year earlier, and God was glad to have him as part of his tech team, especially with this new issue of “The Glitch”. Bemer knew how to adapt and adapt quickly. Mauchly was very good at the basics and checking the minutia. Mauchly looked his part of an old World War Two era hard working patriot scientist in a button shirt with rolled up sleeves and loosened tie. Bemer was more your favorite professor in an argyle sweater vest and a short sleeved collared shirt. They were squinting at the code and getting so close to the wall screen that their noses almost bumped through it. They were muttering to themselves as Bemer was feeding in variations into a side screen to test the outcomes.
Across the room Benjamin Franklin was running diagnostics on all of the Earth’s Eastern North American Continental antennae and nodes in case it was a hardware problem. While the computer workings were now invisible and on a shifted physical plane from the denizens of Earth, every once in a while a storm on either plane could mess with the wiring.
The wall between God’s office and the outer reception area had also dissolved as Peter, who had been joined by Archangel Michael, was checking the data against the COBC limit numbers to anticipate if an audit was eminent. God knew they were also doing some creative calculations, but the fewer specifics he knew the better.
At his current outburst, all heads turned to him. Eyebrows were raised. Michael said, “You had better watch that tantrum before your extraneous energy takes out a coastal city. Even Peter and I won’t be able to keep the COBC off your back for an unscheduled tsunami or earthquake.”
God stopped passing. He let out an explosive breath as his shoulder drooped a little under his jacket. “Right, right. Sorry. I just don’t like not knowing what is going on, being god and all. Granted the Earth system’s original code was out of my hands, but I designed the system and language. Nothing in the design should let The Glitch exist. It goes against all known science, divine or human.”
“Unless….”
Everyone now turned their attention to Franklin who had a thoughtful expression on his face while he idly turned his office chair back and forth slightly.
“Yes, Ben?” God asked.
After another short pause, Franklin continued, “Unless someone else “divine” has found a way into the system.”
* * *
Gregory Finch slipped back along the wall as casually as he could. Behind him was a heavy curtain that covered one of the several private alcoves that made up the far wall of the ballroom. He half turned and slipped a flask out of his jacket and added a healthy amount of potent smelling liquid to the glass of punch he was holding. He made a grimace of satisfaction as he took a lengthy sip.
“Psst.”
Gregory looked around.
“Psst.”
“Excuse me?” Gregory stepped closer to the curtain. The odd hissing seemed to be coming from there.
“Monsieur Finch, esz that you?”
“Mademoiselle Dione, is that you?”
“But of course! I must admit to following you. I could not bear to even be in a room without you.”
Gregory's neck started turning red. The flush started peeking over his highly starched collar. He looks like a thermometer. Adam thought as he watched from he position outside the dining room entrance further down the same wall.
“Really?” The young man replied in such an earnest and hopeful voice that Adam almost felt sorry for him.
“Really,” the sultry voice assured him. “I have promised a dance to the insufferable ambassador from Germany. But would you please meet me back here after the next dance?”
Adam couldn't decided with the glazed look in Gregory's eyes was from love or the vodka. Either way, the kid was in trouble. “Of course! Anything for you...Annabella.”
* * *
Jonathan clung to one of the curtains, gasping.
“My...Mrs. Gardner...that was (gulp) certainly a...spirited dance,” he managed to wheeze out.
Eve smiled at him angelically. “Yes it was. Thank you for indulging me, my dear young man. You look a little winded. Perhaps you would like a glass of punch?”
Jonathan stood straight, looking embarrassed. “No thank you just the same. I am fine truly. I am just getting over a slight cold, so my strength is not what it usually is that is all.”
“Of course,” Eve nodded and patted her hair to make sure it was all in place. “Well, I really should find my husband before he thinks I have abandoned him for an attractive younger man.”
“Yes, of course. It was a pleasure,” Jonathan replied as he bowed while holding the stitch in his side. As Eve glided away he tried to straighten up by holding on to the curtain behind him.
“Psst.”
Jonathan sucked in a deep breath and furrowed his brow.
“Hello?” He turned tugging a little at the curtain. The odd hissing seemed to be coming from there.
“Monsieur Goodling, is that you?”
“Mademoiselle Dione, is that you?”
“But of course! I must admit to following you. I could not bear to even be in a room without you.”
The control over his breathing Jonathan has gained back seemed to fail him at that moment. “Oh, oh my. Really?”
Really,” the sultry voice assured him. “I have promised a dance to the insufferable ambassador from Germany. But would you please meet me back here after the next dance?”
Eve smiled to herself as Jonathan’s face lit with a ridiculously adoring grin. “Nice work, Lassie,” she murmured as she moved to intercepted the real Mademoiselle Dione.
Lassie yelped and growled in a rather smug tone as she sat back on her haunches in the hidden command center. Dogs were not prone to smugness or self congratulation, but she even had to admit that it was a quality amount of voice splicing on very short notice.
Adam joined his voice to the chatter. “We have the gentlemen in place. Now should we work on our young star crossed lovers.”
“Of course, dearest.”
Lassie barked an affirmative as well.
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