Now normally, I am a young man of iron resolve and nerve of steel.

But Today, I, like many of my classmates, I was nervous almost to the point of throwing up. Three months of 10 hour cram sessions, practical lessons(where demons were summoned in front of our squads), and learning various ecletic bits of esoteric formulae from over a dozen different ancient civilizations ( one wonders how they learned this stuff...I mean, who taught them?).

Also the visits with psychologists and psychiatrists (mental health was deemed a priority, so extensive files were written about us all...reams of paper no one was every likely to really read.) The pt with the cadets being trained as grunts for the war effort (in my case alone, I remained the only one of our class able to run 5 miles with them without puking my guts out, robes or no...and We all had free run of the outside, after all, where were we to go?)Led to this day; or night, more specifically.

Conjuring night, where all would be acolytes either summoned and bound their demon, failed and got nothing (and were sent to the front as shock troops...the knowledge learned here being deemed too useful to waste) or failed spectacularly and got their souls eaten, and bodies killed. The living rooms of our apartments had their furniture moved, and the rugs rolled up to reveal the surprise of our very own personal summoning circle. Enochian glyphs of demon
binding carved into tablets of stone sealed the rooms from hostile exits by demonic forces.

Nothing stopped them from getting in of course.

Tonight all 482 of us would at once, try to summon a demon each. tomorrow our own instructors would open our apartments should we fail to come out, to usher the failures out or destroy the victorious demons where they stood.

But for now, it was a time of rest, we had the day off; we could do whatever we liked...until midnight.

"Hey there Melba!"

Of course even here wasn't safe from the behaviour of morons, mystical acedeme or no.

"Why hello Justin. How's life treating you?"

Justin Bell was 6 ft 2, handsome, blond haired and brown eyed...and he knew it. He'd been cited 3 times for sneaking into female summoners' apartments; 3 different female summoners' apartments...and this was widely cited as the reason he didn't make squad leader. I of course knew better....his grades were near the top of the class, but not quite good enough. that honor belonged to his sidekick, Harry Trudeau, the victim of many Harry Pothead jokes.

I was sitting in the mess, which doubled as our day room or socializing room with our squad leader and a few people from squad 3 (we were squad 6). Our squad leader was Terrence Jones, a no nonsense farm boy from Illinois. I would lay odds he would be a drill instructor and staff sergeant before the year was out...if he survived tonight.

"I don't get it, why do you keep calling him 'Melba'?" He asked Justin.

He wasn't all that bright though.

"Because it's a type of toast, and so is Melvin. Can't you just spot the loser waves coming off him?"

Terrence's thick face scrunched up in real anger.

"No, and if you don't stop talking shit, I'm going to bust your ass. Sarge will let me too."

Justin backed down. I think he suspected me of telling on him during one of his midnight trysts..I did see him, but I didn't care and didn't need to say a word; I mean really, did he really not notice the cameras the entire time he was here? Either way it wasn't enough for him to start something then get his teeth kicked in; we both knew Terrence meant it.

"So, want dealt in? I was just about to leave."

Just call me peacemaker.

"Um sure, what are you playing for? Still quarters?"

"Yep, knock yourself out."

"where you going?" Terrence asked as I got up.

"where else? out. then some last minute studying."

"OK man, later."

I walked out, and out of the tower, at my best nonchalant speed. Even so Karen caught up to me before I'd gone more than 20 steps though the door. I didn't know why, but she seemed to consider me a project of hers, acting as a mentor of sorts whenever possible; it didn't surprise me she had today off, she probably asked for it three months ago when she brought me in.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just thinking about where I'll end up."

A little white lie; I was thinking more about the summoning itself and what she told me when I asked about it. I knew I'd be playing that tape again in the privacy of my own apartment.

"You know, Terrence was disappointed when you didn't make squad leader. He marched right into the colonels office and told him he was making a mistake, that you were better suited."

I began listening to my surroundings again.

"Oh really? So then why was I passed over?"

"Seems someone noticed a tail when they were brought in, someone has been checking our defenses, and still getting to know our people. That same someone has aced every course and practical application exercise involving manhunts, demon hunting, and law enforcement. So there really wasn't any choice in the matter; our best student in squad 6 just isn't slated for an active front line army role...or rather they are too qualified."

"That seems like an oxymoron to me."

"It does? Then consider this bright boy...America is on a water locked continent. the gate is across a sea, and yet demons have been appearing here and there on our soul, Canada, and Mexico in ever increasing numbers. How? shouldn't America's own best and brightest be working on such a problem? Or even solving other such problems for other countries while people perfectly qualified to hold the various fronts yet are not qualified to solve such problems do so?"

"Point taken, I guess...just seems like we're sending people off to die."

Yes there was a definite we there now. I still didn't like it, but no one could ever really escape the draft. Best we could do was try to live through it.

"We are. We got no choice. Almost half of my class that survived to be sent to the front is dead now. I'm the lucky one, and I have to deal with that. We all do, if we survive. The best we can do is try to solve the problem once and for all; close the gate in Germany, and annihilate every demon currently on the planet."

"A tall order."

"we owe them no less."

"So... you said out of those that survived. Been meaning to ask you, how many didn't? what's the percentage?"

"Under 10%...out of 1000 people, only 40 died that night, and fewer than that failed."

She never sugar coated it for me, I liked that about her. Reminded me of my dad.

"Well...some died because they made a mistake in checking the circle. If so much as a hair breaks it, the thing is useless. Some just flat out got out bargained, forgetting elemental things; possibly out of fear, not sure. And some, well...the Demon have ranks, as you know. A definite hierarchy. The elite of hell are so far beyond the normal run of the mill demon it scares the piss out of me, emotional extreme or not.

Consider Thor....hes one of the elite, but the lowest rung. He can take out a good pack of those demon dogs you saw in your burger joint. But hes minor; a strong enough vassal of a minor lord. When you summon, you bargain to make a contract. The more powerful the demon, the more it can cost. The current theory is, that some demons are so strong that it takes such a strong individual that the costs asked for in some cases are too high for the soul, and it breaks under the strain.

Added to that is the fact that summoners feel it when their demons are present; Thor feels like a constant sickness in my mind, an oily malaise that I can feel in the back of my head. Other summoners feel the same. It causes the mind to break, and the theory on that is the weak mind can snap right off. Just another of the problems our best are trying to help solve with their sexy minds."

"A bit over my head."

"True, but you and I are more the action oriented thinkers; we involve ourselves in practical problem solving."

"Oh we do, do we?"

"Yep!"

We left the compound, and I started jogging around the fence. Karen kept pace easily at first, but started to lag after the first lap. She stopped and waited while I did 5.

"you didn't have to wait." I told her once I stopped, panting.

She handed me a canteen, about half full of water.

"I wanted to impart one last bit of advice to you. Get a good nap before your summoning tonight. It helps to be clear headed and awake...and don't drink to much, you do not get a potty break during the ritual."

"And I assume the pee would break the circle?"

"Well it can, given the right circumstances....like a demon canny enough. Liquids don't normally cause containment loss to an engraved circle."

"Alright well, thanks for taking the time Karen, think I'm going to review my notes and preparations."

"Alright, take care. See you tomorrow, k?"

"Sure thing."

While the Corps had summoning down to an mass produced art, each summoning was actually an individual affair. Little things like the type of chalice used, or the amount of blood sacrificed, or even the language used for the chant made a difference and couldn't help but be altered a little from person to person based on temperament. After all, we weren't all trying to summon the same demon...just in general get demonic attention and see what answered.

Hey, I thought it sounded stupid too. Most of us did, but it made a certain amount of sense.

I bought a few drinks (green tea) and went back to my apartment to review my notes and recheck my calculations.

******************************************************************************************

I woke up at 11, right on time, and set about rechecking my preparations. The circle was complete, I brushed it with a whisk broom to make sure nothing was obstructing or breaking it. I set the chalice, the candles, and the ritual dagger I'd be using in their proper places. And reviewed my notes - again. We had been told that if nothing responded in six hours, we had failed. Reports of demons coming after the third hour were scarce, and therefore unlikely.

Everything had already been checked by an experienced summoner (Karen in my case, of course.) and pronounced as up to par, even with my little additions. The clock struck 12 as I was lost reading, and I almost missed my mark. Slitting my hand and allowing the blood to flow into the chalice, I began with the standard chant, then added my own appeal:

"Ego capto socius phasmatis pro succurro!"

Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. After nearing an hour, I wanted to just stop and wash out. I was bored out of my skull, and my throat was already getting raw. My surprise when the clock chimed the hour and the blood red sulfurous smoke spewed out of the center of the circle was total. My eyebrow raised however, when the smoke resolved itself, not into a bal rog or imp or other such horrific apparition, but a dapper looking possibly middle aged
man.

He was rather tall, perhaps as tall as Justin, perhaps a trifle more. He had grey hair, not the grey hair of age, but of a pigeons' feathers; uniform and a strange color for hair. He had a rugged but refined look to him, as if he were used to the outdoors or sports, without being large or imposing. He was obviously nonhuman however, with large jet black feathered wings and red eyes.

The stories were right; just by standing there he scared the hell out of me.

His eyes tracked and he saw me right as I finished the last refrain of the chant; breaking it off in the middle would have been bad.

"Well....a hairless ape finally had the guts to try summoning me. Well done human; release me and I'll show my appreciation."

"Don't bother. I am not that stupid. Your name? I'll settle for your use name."

"You think to make me bow, scum? I bow to no man, nor will I ever serve a human. Go back to your mud hut and play with your pet rocks."

"You WILL serve me. You must answer, demon! I compel you! Reddo!"

If anything, he appeared to lean back as he grinned, exposing sharp predator teeth, perfectly pointed and likely perfectly sharp.

"I am the duke of hell known as Grex, little monkey. And your name?"

the texts were of two minds about giving out your own name. Legends said that some demons could compel you through name alone. However, recent experience of other summoners suggested otherwise; that demons could gain some power over you by knowing your name, but not that power. That is, if they knew your name.

"My name, or as much of it as you should know now...is Melvin. You said you're a duke of hell?"

"Indeed! I am regent of the crags of despair, in the ninth circle."

He looked at me expectantly.

"Sorry, never heard of it...or you."

I couldn't resist; most demons have huge egos. He didn't rise to the bait, however. With a long suffering sigh he replied.

"Of course, it's to be expected; what do your parents teach their children nowadays? No time for the classics, like who eats them in the night. Well, let's get down to business, as my boss would say. What do you want, mortal?"

"For your kind to stop coming through the gate and killing my kind, and for you all to go home?"

"A worthy ambition, but alas, I cannot command all my brethren...most just simply follow other masters."

But not all, good to know.

"Then I'll settle for you, serving and protecting me to the best of your ability from all enemies and potential hurts of any dimension or reality while I carry out that aforementioned task and the full complete and unrestricted access to your power, commonly called magic by us humans. Both for as long as I feel I require it."

"So you want the complete unrestricted servitude of myself, and the access to all powers of a ruler of the ninth circle of hell, do I have that correct Melvin? I just want to be clear here."

I thought it over...I didn't see any way that could be misconstrued...after all he was the only ruler of the ninth circle, wasn't he?

"Who rules the ninth circle of hell?"

"Ahh, you ARE paying attention. I do of course, and you're correct in your suspicions. I am the only ruler of the ninth circle of hell; I do not share the seat with anyone."

"Do you serve anyone?"

"Everyone in hell serves someone. I serve the Boss directly, don't make me say his name, it won't end well for you, and I won't have nearly as much fun...and I serve the Lady of lost hope, grand duchess of hell and one of the fabled 20 generals of the end."

Another thing to file away for later...like tomorrow, when I beat answers out of this guy. His aura was beginning to anger me more than frighten me.

"Alright so what is your price for what I'm asking?"

"The price for my wonderful service and power? Hmm, I wonder. I don't suppose you'd be willing to part with your soul, would you?"

"No, not even a little bit of it."

"Ahh, such a shame, such a shame. Well the standard price for services after souls is years off your life. Ten at least in this case...for my services alone under a standard contract, not nearly the all encompassing loophole free contract you desire.That doesn't even cover my magic. I could see myself agreeing to ten years however if say...you'd sweeten the deal."

"With what precisely?"

"Your first name."

"My what?"

"Your first name; names have power silly mortal. Your parents chose a name to express your essence. I want your first name. In response, you get a new first name of my choosing. Something to better express the new you, and I keep the energy gained from you willingly giving such a thing up."

"what will that do? Speak truthfully; reddo!"

"It won't hurt you in any way. Your form wont be altered from it, nor can I alter your form with it. I cannot compel you, nor coerce you to do anything you do not wish to do with it. It is, after all, when the cookie crumbles, only a name. And does not a rose by any other name smell as sweet?"

"What can you do with it?"

His look soured a moment before he was all smiles again.

"Not much; I can slightly alter your perceptions and attitudes with the proper name, making you more...yourself. Let's be honest, Melvin does not suit you at all."

"Honesty is appreciated. Let me think on it."

"Take all the time in the world available Melvin, but be warned that I can and will eat you in 4 hours, 30 minutes, 19 seconds."

So I thought, hard. Everyone pays a price for this, and I had either had the best or worst luck, depending on how you looked at it. The chance to bring an actual ruler of hell itself into the fight...for our side. In all our studies we had determined only 4 summoners for the allies had managed to summon anything stronger than a count of hell.

Gerald Cross, a world war 2 former marine and summoner during the subsequent conflicts, had summoned Thrak, a baron of the 6th circle of hell. He managed to keep France from getting overrun largely on his own during the 50's till of course, his untimely death.

The other was the current commander of the Summoner Corps, 4 star general Xander Stone; he and his summon Thrall are living legends...mainly due to the fact that unlike most people nowadays, he was a lifer to the corps. The other two were classified.

Could I stand being 28 and known as something embarrassing in order to bring such an ace to our side? The circle ensured his honesty; he could not lie.

Now I'm not really a risk taker by nature...I didn't think. But the other concern was failure. Once started you had one chance at a demon; no other would answer your call. Common courtesy among demons, so to speak. However that meant if I turned him down I was going to the front sans any protection; just some scatter-shot learning and a runed weapon against thousands or more demons.

As desperate as the demon was not to be in the circle come morning, I was just as desperate. I was steady however. I'd always prided myself on my ability to compartmentalize emotion; it led to a killer poker face.

The last consideration was...Grex was being reasonable. The costs of what demons charged for their services were cataloged as a matter of course; sort of a demonic price guide. Grex's prices were a bit on the high side, but then he was a valuable commodity, and he knew it.

"3 hours 39 minutes 22 seconds, mortal."

I grinned. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn't, just like everyone doing this before me.

"I'll do it."

He grinned back.

"In the interest of clarity again, I am charging you your first name and my aforementioned fee for my services and the magic of the ruler of the ninth circle of hell."

I considered...since his aforementioned fee had a number on it, a cap...he couldn't take all my years. I could stand being 28 and retiring before 40.

"I accept."

His grin broadened alarmingly and his aura or whatever it was got worse in an instant. Then he flowed over the circle as if it didn't exist and smothered me.

(tbc)