It was the job of all angels to gatekeep heaven, and Aalya was an angel.
"You're horrible, Aalya," God told her. Most angels would be thrilled or anxious to be in God's presence. Mostly anxious, since angelic affairs was not something God typically concerned himself with. He spent His time tending to more important matters like... well no one knows but it is important stuff to be sure, probably.
"Aalya, did you hear me?" Aalya stared at the file as if in concentration, but her knuckles were white and sharp, like shattered porcelain. "You keep making errors with letting people into heaven, and others keep having to fix your mistakes, so I've decided... Aalya!"
Aalya's head jerked. "What?" she said.
"This isn't going to work." God shook His head. "We can't keep up with your errors, so I'm removing you from the position of gatekeeper." Aalya looked at God, then back to the soul file, then back to God.
"You can't do that." She spoke softly, which was unlike her. "It's not like I want to do this job, but how can an angel not be a gatekeeper? That's what you made us for."
"Because I said so."
"What are you, a human's mother?"
"No, because
I
said so. I'm God remember?"
"Must've slipped my mind."
"You need to stop toying with souls. I'm sending you to Earth so that you can learn the importance of being a gatekeeper."
"Wait what--"
And Aalya was sent to Earth.
***
Niven stared at his laptop screen, in his college's library, doing homework. It was a very creative scenario, one that had never before been written about, which stretched the limits of the reader's imagination. Definitely.
Niven shuddered as the cold library air grazed his skin. He squinted at his notebook, with dim lights barely enough to illuminate his work. When he finally figured out the answer, did not exclaim with joy, but simply let out a breath he did not know he was holding. I mean he knew he was holding it, otherwise that would be stupid. It was actually allergy season, so he was holding his breath to clear up his sinuses, which was an old trick he learned from his father.
Still, it was true that Niven felt a tiny bit completely hopeless. Two hours for one question, and nine more to go. As he went to type his answer in, his computer ran out of battery. He gazed into the abyss that was his black monitor.
"Honestly, I'm not even mad," Niven said furiously. He did not immediately realize that it was two in the morning -- he had started working at five in the evening, when the library was full. For the first time in several hours, he looked around. He was alone. It was dark outside, and he was alone.
And yet he was as calm as a still lake. A still lake that was extremely angry (and not calm, because if the lake is angry, then it is not calm, since being angry and calm at the same time cannot happen. I mean maybe it can, but just assume that it can't. Then because the lake is angry it is not calm. And since Niven is as calm as the lake, which is not calm, he is also not calm).
Niven calmly gathered his things and walked out of the library. No, he did not. He planned to but stopped when he saw a girl in the library with a pile of books next to her. She had some open in front of her, but she was looking at none of them. Instead, she had her chin on her hand and her hand on her table. She was not smiling, and her eyes were forward.
Niven knew that look. On any other day, he would have walked out. But he was just tired enough, and the girl was just pretty enough -- in reality, he couldn't see her properly because of the dim lighting, but something about a fellow soldier struggling at two in the morning was beautiful -- so Niven walked over to her.
"How's it going soldier, you okay?" he said, full of confidence.
"Do I look okay?" the girl replied. Niven thought for a moment.
"No," he said, full of confidence.
"Because I am more than okay. I'm super okay. The okayest, in fact. I just... can't read any of these books."
"Yeah, I'm tired too." The girl lifted her head, gave a slight frown, and a deep sigh. One might even say that she let out a breath she did not know she was holding.
"I'm Niven by the way," Niven by the way said.
"Awesome," the girl said. Niven looked at the girl expectantly. After a few silent moments, it was no longer awesome.
"Do, uh, y-you have a, um... name?" Niven said, full of confidence.
"Yep!"
"Do you... you know... want to tell me what it is?"
"Huh? It's Aalya."
Niven could take a hint. He walked away.
How can this day get any worse?
he thought.
I mean, apart from the many ways that it can get worse. What the Hell kind of name is Aalya, anyway?
***
When Aalya first got to Earth, she was naked. She felt the wind against her skin, and along her folds, and it felt natural, mostly because she was always naked in heaven, but partly because she felt a new kind of freedom. She closed her eyes and took in the sensation, letting her breasts get massaged by the breeze. She felt more sensitive than usual -- more sensitive than ever, and she could not help but wonder if Earth had something to do with it. And then she realized she was standing in the middle of the road, barefoot, and in clear violation of local obscenity laws. That is when she felt it: shame.
She was proud to feel shame, because in heaven she was not allowed to feel shame at all. In heaven she could only feel happy things, like happiness and... the point being, she was happy to finally feel something that was considered negative.
It was late at night and the street was empty, so no one saw the naked angel. She looked up.
"Hey, you forgot my clothes, idiot!" she shouted. And then some clothes fell from the sky and landed on her head. She quickly put them on. They were not fancy, but they were slightly better than worse than nothing. Leggings, a t-shirt, and underwear. Some shoes fell next to her, and she put them on. There was also a note that fell into her hands. It said... well actually Aalya could not read it. She looked at it closer, but she still could not read it.
"What!?" She was livid. If she could not read, then she could not be a gatekeeper. If she could not be a gatekeeper, then she could not get back into heaven. True, Aalya did not like everything about heaven, but it was still her home. Well, it was not anymore, but you know what I mean. Unless --
"Of course. When you sent me to Earth, you took away my ability to read, so I just need to learn how to read again, and you'll let me back in. It'll be easy. Hey, God, give me directions to the nearest library." A piece of paper with directions appeared in her hands. Too bad she could not read it. "I... probably should have thought of that." A masterful idea occurred to her. "God, give me the ability to read."
She felt a slashing on her ass. She barely registered what just happened when she felt another one. She yelped. "Okay, I get it, I-" The third smack cut her off. She rubbed her ass, trying to ease the pain. She looked angrily at the sky. "Are you done?"
Crap, why did I say that
. And another smack. A tear formed in her eyes. "I take it directly asking for the ability to read is a no go."
In fact, she enjoyed the pain, since she never felt it before, and it made her wet. She looked down her leggings and saw that her panties were damp. The freedom to feel pain, it is still freedom. And Aalya loved freedom.
She walked forward with a slight limp until she found a library. She took a random book and failed to read it. She repeated this process, growing more hopeless with each failed book. A pile of books later, and her chin was on her hand, which was on her table. Much like this story, she had gotten nowhere.
"How's it going soldier, you okay?"
***
Niven did not see Aalya again until one month after their library introduction. Aalya was in his English class, which was strange because Niven was sure he never saw her there before. Aalya sat in the same row as him. Perhaps she was one of those people,
if you could call them that,
Niven thought, who skipped lectures until finals drew nearer.
Niven's opinion of the girl was falling. But he still could not help but stare at her from the side. With better lighting, he was able to properly appreciate her looks. She wore a shirt that seemed a bit small. Because it was small, she had to unbutton it more than normal to make room for her chest. She was quite distracting, he realized, though it is not like he paid attention in English anyway.
It's not like reading is all that important
, he thought. And he was right, for English is a useless class for useless people, a truth he learned at a young age by the feet of his father.
His theory about Aalya started breaking down. If she really were a slacker, then why would she sit near the front? Plus, she fixed her eyes intently on the professor, who was mumbling something about solving the Riemann Hypothesis using iambic pentameter -- something trivial no doubt. It was kind of cute how focused she was.
On English of all classes, what a dunderhead
, Niven thought.
Niven could not understand how Aalya could be so focused. And then she was not focused anymore. Not even twenty minutes into the lecture and she had already slumped back, with the look of despair in her eyes. She embraced gravity strongly, as if she had never felt its force before.
"And remember, your essays are due next week," Professor Orthogonal said.
What the Hell kind of name is Orthogonal, anyway?
That is an example of a question Niven did not think about, since he was worried about his essay. He had a few pages done, but did not know if it was enough, so he had to ask Professor Orthogonal after class.
When class ended, he wanted to leave as fast as possible, so he had to rush and beat all the other trivial students who wanted to ask their trivial questions.
Most of the world is trivial
, his father had told him,
you can find meaning in every nook and cranny, but that meaning is also trivial.
Niven liked his father's advice. When homework was hard, the advice helped him cope. He wished his father followed his own advice, but his father did not, so now his father was dead.
As Niven went to ask his question, he caught a glimpse of Aalya. From the front she was evidently hot. She was staring at a small piece of paper, frowning. Her hair was dark, and it perfectly framed her pale face. He felt his cock throb.
"Do you need something?" Professor Orthogonal said.
"Ah yes, it's about the essay," Niven said, slightly caught off guard.
"And?"
"How long are they supposed to be?" Niven asked. Professor Orthogonal visibly gagged.
"Four pages will suffice," she said. "Have about three hundred words per page."
"So, if I had three full pages, but only half on the fourth page, would that be enough?"
Professor Orthogonal gazed at him in disbelief. "Four full pages."
"But what if I have four pages but only two hundred and fifty words on each page because my words are longer?"
