I enter the garden just as Bacchus tries to wheedle an orange out of a fruit tree. I stare at it and the branches bud, flower, bare green fruit then ripen into plump oranges. The god of the vine smiles, plucks one and turns to me.
"Aaaaah, Kronos ... welcome. I assume you're here because Death wants to negotiate a truce," he says as he bites into the orange, peel and all.
Bacchus the party boy has little use for manners, or even common sense after a long night of debauchery. I smile back at him and lean on my scythe. I don't wield it much these days, but there is a time and place for clichés, and I deem this day one of them. I finger my long grey beard and consider my answer.
"Yes, I have heard of this truce, and I wonder if she is serious about it. I'm here to discuss the matter with her. I don't see her yet, so I guess I'll just wait here with you, Life and Gaia," I tell Bacchus.
"Good, I'd like that, Father Time," Gaia says.
"That nickname has followed me since infancy, although I have only fathered six children of my own. I ate them all, and then puked them up again later on, so I'm not exactly what anyone would consider the epitome of fatherhood," I grin at her.
They all laugh, then Life steps forward with a concerned look on his face.
"What if Death is actually serious, Kronos? The implications boggles the mind. If nothing dies, then my job will become almost unbearable, trying to keep everything alive. Your job will be harder, too. You will have to make every living thing immortal, which would put lowly little humanity on an even footing with us gods. I don't think I like the idea of that one," he says.
"That's just craziness," I say. "What is she thinking? She can't possibly be so lazy that she proposes to give up work altogether."
I'm becoming worried, now. All we can do is wait until Death shows up and try to talk her out of it.