Kohl hunched, palms splayed across the terminal. The room was dark, the better to focus the ethereal vibrations. He cursed as random noise burst forth: even after decades of practise, contact was difficult to establish.

He made a subtle adjustment and at last, a voice arose from the static.

‘“What is that noise?” The wind under the door.’

“Nuncio – can you hear me?”

‘“Do you know nothing? Do you see nothing?”’

“Nuncio…”

‘I remember’…What? Who is it?

“Provost Kohl, Ma’am.”

Kohl – you woke me. And I so weary, after such an age. How long since I ascended?

“Three days, Ma’am.”

Days? Impossible! Centuries, surely.

“Subjective time, Nuncio. Temporal calibration is not yet complete.”

Of course. But it would not matter if heaven were not so boring. One can’t get a decent drink, there is nothing worth reading, and simply no one is interested in sex… I expect you would like it here, Kohl.

“Nuncio,” he snapped, then continued more carefully. “My apologies Ma’am – we seek your counsel.”