They retired to Hell's Acres, where they spent a comfortable night. Theoretically they needed neither food nor sleep here, but the experiences they had had with War and Nature needed digesting. What a huge amount of misery there was in the mortal realm! So much of it appeared ultimately unnecessary, yet even the Incarnations seemed largely helpless to ameliorate it.
You know, I thought it would be fun, meeting Incarnations and all. Vita thought. But each time, I get another glimpse of the awful stuff they have to deal with, and I wonder how they stand it.
"It isn't always that bad," Jolie said, in charge of the body for the evening. "They do have their pleasures too. But with their enormous power comes enormous responsibility, and they all feel it. Every so often one gets too tired and retires, and then a new one has to be broken in. We saw how it was with an Aspect of Fate—but there, at least, there are always two experienced Aspects to help. It is worse with the others."
It must be! the girl agreed. To have all that responsibility, and to know so little at first—I think I'm glad I'm mortal! At least I'm the only one I can mess up.
Even our effort to deflect Ilka from getting pregnant almost got her killed, Orlene agreed. I can appreciate better than ever why Incarnations don't like to interfere in mortal affairs. There are so many variables, so many ways for something well-intended to go wrong. Even God must get tired!
"Well, it will be Hell tomorrow," Jolie reminded them cheerfully.
They let Vita peer out a turret window for a while, watching the cavorting flame figures on the moat. Gee, I wish I was doing that with Roque right now, she thought.
"What you call a hot time," Jolie said, smiling. But she understood; she wanted to be with Satan similarly, but knew this was not the occasion.
They slept, letting that bit of unconsciousness put some space between the horror of the recent events and their next challenge.
In the morning they made their way to the Hellevator and headed down, this time all the way to the basement stop. The mock flames of it loomed higher and fiercer as they descended past the mortal realm, until at last they came to a stop in what appeared to be a phenomenal bed of blazing coals. It was as if their precarious chamber were being flame roasted.
Jolie opened the door. "I will get us in, then Orlene will take over, as it remains her mission," she reminded them.
I never thought I'd get to go to Hell before I died! Vita thought brightly.
The door opened and Jolie started to step out. But a demon stopped her. It was huge and masculine, with hooves and horns, and its trident had sharp points. "Halt!" he barked gruffly. "Mortals can't come here!"
"I am a ghost," Jolie explained. "I am not evil, so can't come here in my natural state, but it is possible in a mortal host. We have come to see Satan."
"No mortals here!" the demon insisted. "Go back where you came from."
"But I just explained—"
"I have my orders. Go!" The trident moved menacingly.
Tell him to sit down hard on his pitchfork! Vita thought. Endwise!
Jolie considered whether to identify herself specifically. As Satan's consort, she was permitted in Hell. But this wasn't her mission, and she did not want to misrepresent it. Orlene had to be allowed to do it on her own, to the extent possible.
She stepped back into the Hellevator. "There is another way," she murmured.
"No way!" the guardian demon cried as the door closed. "First you die—then you come here!"
Go have a hotfoot! Vita thought back at him.
They trundled back up to Purgatory. "We shall have to enlist the aid of Gaea," Jolie explained. "But I think she won't mind giving it."
Gaea can help us get to Hell? Vita thought, surprised.
"She knows someone who can."
They exited at Purgatory and hurried to Gaea's Treehouse. Jolie explained how they had been balked by an ignorant demon. "I didn't want to identify myself, because this is Orlene's business. But I thought that if Natasha were willing to help—"
Who is she? Vita asked.
Gaea smiled. She fetched a small harp. She went outside and sat on the soft turf, setting the harp between her lifted knees. Her fingers caressed the strings, touching without playing. Then, facing the cloudbank horizon, she began to play.
The sound of it was exquisite. Jolie had heard this many times before, but was always entranced anew. She was Satan's first wife, and Gaea was his second; there had never been any competition between them, but had there been, Gaea's magic with music would have been decisive. Every note was perfect, and the theme was transcendent.
Then Gaea sang. The whole region seemed to come alive, resonating to the sound of her voice. The distant clouds turned color, passing through the spectrum of the rainbow. Dawn seemed to come, and sunset, and all between. No earthly voice could match this; it was the melody of the Incarnation, a fragment of what was called the Llano.
Both Orlene and Vita were rapt. There had been no hint of this potential before. Gaea had seemed like an ordinary woman in command of potent magic. Now, through Orlene's own magic, Jolie saw Gaea glow. More than that; her glow extended out into the environment—as far, in fact, as her music did.
After a brief passage, Gaea paused. All Purgatory seemed to wait with bated breath.
Then mere came an answering song. It was a man's voice, without accompaniment, but so vibrant and feeling that all the world seemed to be the accompaniment. A few notes only, a few words, and then silence.
Gaea sang again, and accompanied herself on the harp. Again the region responded, joining her evocation. Then she paused a second time.
The male response came, closer now, stronger. It had seemed that in all the universe there could be no equal to Gaea's voice, but now it was clear that there was an equal in this hidden man.
After a momentary pause, Gaea sang a third time—and the man joined her. They made a harmony so beautiful that there was nothing for the listeners to do but be transported by it. The counterpoint was perfect.
Now the man came into view, walking swiftly toward the Treehouse. He was young and handsome, and he sang as he walked, still keeping time with Gaea. He wore ordinary slacks and shirt and shoes; were he not singing, he would have seemed to be just another man. Obviously he was not.
Jolie knew him, of course, but she kept her thought quiet. Let Orlene and Vita have this experience for themselves!
The man came to stand before Gaea. Their song climaxed and abruptly ended.
The plain before the Treehouse had been blank. Now it was covered with flowering trees, and a crystal stream wound through it. Warblers perched in the trees, listening.
Gaea set aside her little harp and stood. She had been middle-aged, but now she was in her lovely young state and her housecoat had become a summer dress which caressed her contours. Bright daisies formed a diadem in her hair. She was as lovely as a summer creature could be.
She stepped into the man and kissed him. They made a perfect couple, and they certainly seemed to be in love. Both Orlene and Vita were astounded.
I thought she was married to— Orlene thought.
Who the hell is this guy? Vita thought.
Now Jolie spoke. "Girls, meet Natasha, the handsomest man of the realm," she said as the couple broke from their close embrace.
Natasha's a MAN? Vita thought.
The man turned from Gaea. "Ah, Jolie," he said. "Come to me."
Jolie did. She stepped into his embrace exactly as Gaea had, and kissed him as ardently.
Holy refuse! Vita thought. Orlene, stunned, thought nothing.
"And Natasha," Jolie said as the kiss ended, "meet my present host, Vita, and Orlene, Gaea's daughter. I am turning the body over to her."
Orlene, suddenly thrust into control, stood in Natasha's loosening embrace. "How glad I am to meet you, Orlene," he said. "You are the daughter of one of the women I love."
"But Gaea's married!" Orlene exclaimed.
Natasha glanced at Gaea, smiling. "Oh, is she? So am I. Why should Mars be the only one with two lovely women?"
Orlene pulled herself away, actually spluttering. "I don't know who you are, but—"
"He is here to guide you to Hell," Gaea said. "I believe he knows a secret access."
Orlene realized that there was some kind of joke going on. "He's a damned soul?"
"Close enough," Natasha said. "Come with me; I believe we can get in unobserved, if we move quickly."
"But—"
Go with him, Jolie thought.
Why should she go with this handsome freak? Vita demanded. He's two-timing his wife; how can we trust him?
He is the world's greatest liar, Jolie agreed. But we can trust him.
Orlene, disgruntled, knowing that she wasn't quite catching something obvious, shrugged. "I will go with you, Natasha. But I would like an explanation."
Natasha put his hand on her elbow. "You shall surely have it. Tell me about yourself; I want very much to know."
Tell him, Jolie thought.
Bemused, Orlene started in. "I am Gaea's natural daughter, given up as a baby for adoption. I married a ghost—"
She broke off, for they were sinking through the ground. The layers of cloud were passing like the vapors they were.
"Continue," he said.
"And had a baby for him, but my baby died, and I killed myself. Now I am trying to recover him from Nox, and I need Satan's help."
"Nox? The Incarnation of Night?"
"Yes. She has my son. She set me a list of things I must get from each major Incarnation, and from Satan I need a curse. Only when the list is complete can I recover my baby and cure him of his malady of the soul."
The cloud dissipated. They stood in a stony cell. Ahead was a curving passage, lighted by guttering and smoky torches. "Follow this passage," Natasha said. "It will lead you to Satan's suite. I will conduct you back from this spot when you are finished with him."
"I have to walk alone through Hell?" Orlene asked, appalled.
"This is a privileged passage. No demon will molest you as long as you remain in it. Be sure you do not leave it, however." He urged her forward, letting go her elbow.
Orlene took a step, then turned. "I really don't—"
But Natasha was gone.
It's alt right, Jolie said. What he said is true: this is a passage only special guests may use. We are quite safe here, though it passes through the center of Hell to reach Satan's suite. We may pause and look at anything along the way, as long as we do not go astray.
Orlene started walking. There were windows along the sides, opening into assorted chambers. In each chamber was some activity, but the nature of it wasn't clear at a casual glance.
Orlene paused at one, in which a man sat, holding a wound in his chest. Blood was oozing, and he seemed to be in extreme pain. "Is he alive?" she asked, horrified. "I thought there were only damned souls here!"
The man heard her. "I am a damned soul," he gasped. "I am suffering what seems like eternal agony."
"What did you do to deserve this?" she asked, morbidly interested.
"I drag-raced a motorcycle." He seemed to be able to speak well enough, if haltingly, despite the wound.
"What?"
"I was in a pickup truck, on the nonmagic level of the highway. This motorcycle challenged me, so naturally I gunned my motor. I won—but I wasn't looking where I was going. I caromed off a slow car and vaulted into the opposite lane at high speed. I crashed head-on into a school bus, killing twenty-seven people. I died myself—and woke at the entrance to Hell. That was twenty years ago, and I still have a thousand years or so to work off."
"But that looks like a bullet wound!" Orlene said. "How could that happen in a highway crash?"
"It didn't. I was never shot."
"But—"
He made an agonized smile. "This isn't my injury I'm suffering. Nor is it that of any of the passengers who died in the crash. It is that of a dog."
"A dog!"
"You see, most of those passengers killed in the wreck were young-schoolchildren, in fact. They did not have a lot of sin on their souls, but they did have some. They would have been detained in Purgatory for a while, or somewhere, until they had absolved their sins and were ready for Heaven. But they weren't supposed to be dead yet. Probably they would have absolved those sins in life, before dying naturally at some later date. That's where I come in."
"Because you denied them that chance!" Orlene said, catching on.
"Right. I must endure their punishments, because they might not have had them on their records if I hadn't caused them to die early. It will take me centuries to catch up on all those sins of all those people, but it's worth it, because at least I am repaying some measure of what I took from them."
"But how does a dog—"
"One of them was a boy who was playing with a gun and shot his neighbor's dog. To cover up, he dragged the dog into a vacant lot and buried it. He was never caught; the neighbor assumed the dog had run away."
Orlene looked more closely at the man. "I see you are bleeding from the wound—but should that be over soon? How long did that dog take to die?"
"It wasn't a clean wound," the man said. "The dog didn't die from it."
"Didn't die! But you said the boy buried it!"
"Yes. The dog suffocated to death underground. I don't look forward to that part of it."
Orlene was appalled, despite the seeming justice of the punishment. "At least it will be over soon."
"In a few hours, yes," he gasped. "But, of course, that's only this replay."
"Replay?"
"I have to do it again, and again, until I have completely repented the act. That might have taken a hundred times, for that boy."
"But you didn't even do it! How can you truly repent what you never did?"
"I agree it is a problem," the man said. "I suppose that's why I haven't yet gotten beyond the first case."
"The first case? The first one killed in that accident?"
"The first significant sin of the first one killed," the man agreed.
"How—How many repetitions have there been?"
"So far? I don't know. I lost count at ten thousand."
"Ten thousand!"
"Several years ago, I think. But, of course, I'm not very good at keeping time, here in this featureless cell. You are the first visitor I have had."
Orlene remained appalled at the thing he had done. She had no sympathy at all for those who took the lives of children, because she knew exactly what it felt like to lose a child. But this was ridiculous! The man would never succeed in expiating the sins of his victims, let alone his own. He was suffering pointlessly.
Now he was turning color, his gasping worse. He was going into the suffocation stage. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Orlene asked, feeling somewhat helpless and foolish, but compelled by her nature.
He wrenched a clenched eye open. "Maybe if you could ask Satan to let me get on to the next Atonement..." Then he went into a horrible shuddering, and she quickly moved on, unable to watch further.
God Almighty! Vita thought. This sure as hell is Hell!
It is a typical case, Jolie thought. There are millions of them here. We can stop and interview any others we wish to.
But Orlene faced straight forward, refusing to look left or right. She had seen more than enough of Hell.
It was a long passage, however, and she could not avoid hearing the piteous groans and seeing peripherally the struggles of those in unnatural agony. Truly, this was Hell.
At last she reached the end of it. There was a door, with a neat placard: SATAN. She knocked.
"Enter," a familiar voice called, and the door went up in flame. Beyond was a very attractive suite, with pleasant couches and pictures of green meadows on the wall.
She stepped in. A man came forward to greet her—or rather a demon came, with a grotesque face, horns, tail, and clothing formed of dancing flames.
Brother! Jolie thought, amused.
Alerted by this, Orlene looked more closely. "That's a mask!" she exclaimed. "And a costume!"
Satan shrugged. His tail fell off and the flames faded into a conventional flame-colored suit. He raised a hand to lift away the mask.
"Natasha!" Orlene cried, astonished.
"Which is 'Ah Satan' spelled backwards," he agreed. "You may also call Me Parry, after My mortal name, or Father, as you please."
"What silly joke is this?" she demanded, anger infusing her surprise.
Listen to him, Jolie thought firmly.
"I am Satan," he said. "I have many alternate guises. I wooed and won Jolie when I was Parry and lost her when she died, and again when I was corrupted by the demoness Lilah—"
"Who?"
"You know her as Lila, Mars' concubine. She left Me for him. I was not pleased at the time, but it is true I had neglected her, and in any event I need no demoness now. In the present age I assumed the guise of Natasha, and wooed and won Orb before telling her I was Satan. She married Me nonetheless, as Gaea, but for a complicated reason we never consummated the marriage. So My ancient concubine now sleeps with your natural father, and I am your stepfather the husband of your natural mother. This is why I asked Jolie to watch over you and to be your guardian and friend. It was not appropriate for Me to do it myself."
All true, Jolie thought. I am with Gaea, but it was Satan who sent me to you.
"I am—the stepdaughter of Satan," Orlene said, stunned. Yet she realized that she had known it, on a buried level; the intertwined relationships had been coming clear, following her death.
"And I love you as Jolie does," he continued. "As we would love the child we never had. I do not expect or require that this love be returned; in no other respect are you any creature of Mine. But I would do anything for you that a father would." He squinted at her. "But why don't you assume your natural form?" As he spoke, her body changed, assuming the aspect of her living state, rather than Vita's.
"I—I come to ask a favor," Orlene said.
"So I understand. Ask."
"I need a curse, to save my baby. To put the fear of evil in him, which fear he does not yet have."
Satan shook his head. "My blessing you could readily have, for it is worthless. But a curse—this is no minor thing. I cannot give you that; you would have to earn it."
"I will try." How well she knew that Incarnations did not lightly grant their favors!
"You see, by such a curse I would actually be doing the work of Mine Ancient Adversary, God. I would be causing a soul which would otherwise come to Me to go instead to Him. I would have to take equivalent value."
"If—If I could save my baby's soul, at the cost of mine, I would do that."
"No. Your soul is far too good for My realm! Besides, neither Jolie nor Orb would forgive me that. Ask something simpler, and I will grant it freely."
Orlene hesitated. "There is something—I know it is not my business, but—"
"Let Me be the arbiter of our business! Speak!"
"There is a man being tortured, in a chamber along the passage through which I came. He—I know he deserves punishment. But what he is suffering is pointless. He is in a closed loop, suffering for another person's sin, which he can never ameliorate. If he could just be nudged into the next Atonement—"
"You refer to the idiot who killed twenty-seven people and himself in a highway crash?"
"That one, yes. He doesn't ask for mercy, only for—"
"I agree. What he is suffering is pointless. The same may be said of many thousands of murderers who must suffer in lieu of their victims. But this is a thing I lack the authority to grant."
"But if you are the Master of Hell—"
"I am the Master of Hell. But not of the underlying definitions. The matter of Good and Evil can only be decided by a joint committee of God and Satan, and there has been no communication between We Two for centuries. I feel the definitions are long overdue for updating, if only to eliminate glitches such as this, but I cannot make that decision unilaterally. Only if God agrees may we work on this."
"But why doesn't God agree?" she asked plaintively.
Satan grimaced. "I fear you will just have to ask Him. He will not speak to Me."
"As it happens, I must go to Him next. Certainly I shall ask!"
"Lotsa luck," Satan murmured.
"And the curse—how may I earn that?"
Satan paced the floor, considering. "It occurs to Me there may be a way around that. You may not need My curse at all, or any of the other favors from Incarnations. I believe I can get Nox to release your baby, cured, now."
Ouch! Jolie thought to herself. He's Tempting her!
But Vita picked it up. What do you mean? Is he going to renege? They were communicating to each other, not to Orlene, whose attention was externally directed.
Satan is never that simple. Oh, I must not interfere, but I fear for her!
Well, then, I'll warn her!
No, you must not! She must endure it alone, or it doesn't count.
Orlene, meanwhile, hardly dared believe. "You can do this? How?"
"Anticipating your request, I availed Myself of the time you took walking the passage to visit the Incarnation of Night. She agreed to allow Me to try it my way."
"My baby!" Orlene breathed, her eyes shining. "Oh, how can this be?"
"You need do nothing arduous. A simple agreement on your part will suffice."
"An agreement?"
Now comes the kicker, Jolie thought. He is so smooth, I hate it when he's doing such business. I never should have let her come here!
"You are staying with the mortal Senator, Luna, are you not? You are friendly with her?"
"Yes. I am her niece, approximately. She has been most kind."
"She is to be engaged in a certain procedural matter which may be awkward for Me. If you would simply ask her to step aside—"
"I can't interfere in her political business!" Orlene protested.
Satan smiled warmly. "Please, do not misunderstand. I do not ask you to interfere, only to ask her to consider doing this small favor for you, so that you may help your baby, in accordance with My agreement with Nox. Surely Luna has no onus against your baby?"
I don't see what's so bad about that, Vita thought. Considering what she has to gain.
Just wait, Jolie thought grimly. You never encountered as smooth-talking a rascal as Satan!
I thought you loved him!
I do. But I also know him.
Orlene, almost overwhelmed by the offer, nevertheless didn't trust it. "Of course not! But—"
"Just how serious is your interest in helping your baby? I do not ask you to succeed in making Luna step aside, only to make the request, which she may decline if she chooses. For this I am prepared to arrange for the return of your baby to you. You need have no fear of this aspect; you will have your baby immediately, and your arduous quest will be over."
Orlene, increasingly distressed, found herself in tears.
"Oh, Satan, for the sake of that love you profess for me, at least tell me the truth! I know this can be no simple matter, and I cannot decide on the basis of ignorance!"
Satan frowned. "Fair enough. I sought only to spare you details that might have distressed you. The whole truth is this: there is a critical issue coming up among the mortals, and Luna is to cast the key vote, deciding it. I will win by default if she does not vote."
"But what can this be?"
"It is the most important issue of our time. It will in effect decide the matter of which Incarnation shall wield the ultimate power. As you know, this is what I covet; for centuries My aspiration has been balked, but now at last it shall be decided."
"But how can Luna have any bearing on the power of Incarnations?"
"I see you do not yet understand. Very well, I shall be unconscionably direct. A number of folk have come to the conclusion that one of our number is not performing His Office as He should. There will therefore be a vote to decide whether that Office should be declared vacant, so that a replacement Incarnation may be elevated to do the job. The importance of this matter to mortals is such that the deciding vote is theirs. If they, by the unanimous tally of their representatives, agree that the Office is vacant, then the remaining Incarnations, by unanimous agreement, may put a new person in that Office. It is of course to My interest to see that this does not occur."
"They want to replace you?" Orlene asked, amazed.
Satan laughed. "Me? Of course not! I have been arguably the most active and effective of the current Incarnations! No, it is the other in question: the Incarnation of Good."
Orlene stared at him, unable to speak.
Did I hear right? Vita thought.
You did, Jolie replied. This is amazing! I knew, but had somehow forgotten. Now it comes back. They want to replace God!
"You see. God has simply not been responsive recently," Satan continued. "Since we anticipate a formidable crisis—World War Three, to be specific, but there are also matters of overpopulation, exhaustion of mortal resources, global famine and disease and the like—we fear that humanity will be extinguished, and the world with it, in a few years, if action is not taken. Much of that action can be taken only with the acquiescence of all the Incarnations. So there is indeed a crisis."
Orlene found her voice. "How can you claim that God is—is not—"
"My dear, I am on the other side. I support the present God and want Him to remain in Office."
"But you are His antithesis! You oppose Him in all things!"
"Not exactly. I am competitive with Him. I rival Him for power. I wish to wrest dominance from Him."
"But you just said—"
"My dear, you are slow to appreciate the nuance. I agree with the other Incarnations that God is not doing His job. That has been My experience over the centuries. But I do not want Him replaced. I do not want His Office declared vacant. I have activated My minions among the mortals to oppose this declaration, and the decision in one leading nation is very close. In fact if Luna does not vote, it will be a tie, which will allow the prior position to stand, and therefore represent a defeat of the resolution, and God will not be replaced. So you can see that what I ask of you is not contrary to your belief or preference. I support the status quo, as do you."
"But if there is to be ruin—"
"Ah yes, we must not forget that. Action certainly must be taken. A new God would surely take it, and perhaps succeed in averting disaster. But if there is no new God, and the present inaction continues, the remaining Incarnations will have in the end to turn to the most effective remaining prospect. That, of course, is the Incarnation of Evil."
"You—You support God—because you think this will bring you ultimate power?"
"Now at last you have it, My dear. That is the essence of My motive. Certainly I will act to avert the crisis; the mortal realm will survive. But the power will be Mine."
"I just can't believe—God cannot be so—"
"And if you will merely express that same support to Luna, and encourage her to sit out that key vote, I will call Nox and she will return your baby to you now. I think this is a generous offer."
Orlene stood still, trying to come to terms with this. Satan urging her to support God—and offering what amounted to a handsome bribe to that end! Her entire quest could be completed this moment, merely by agreeing.
"I think," she said at last, "that you know more of this than I do. If you believe that my plea to Luna will be effective, then it may be. If you believe that this would give you ultimate power, then it must be. Therefore I must not do this. I must trust in Luna's judgment, trust in her to do what is right, even though it runs contrary to my instincts."
"Even though it costs you your baby?" Satan asked softly.
Orlene squeezed her eyes closed, trying to dam back her tears. "How can I weigh my baby—against the welfare of the world? I do want my baby, but not at such a price. I must do what I believe is right, even though it pains me, even though I am uncertain what is right."
"Are you sure?" Satan looked grim.
"No, I am the least certain ghost in the world! But I think this is the way it must be."
"Then it shall be Nox's way," Satan murmured.
"Her way?"
"We made a deal, she and I. She would support My way, by yielding the baby, if I could make it work. I would support her way, if I failed. I have failed to Tempt you, so must honor the bargain I made."
"But what is that bargain?"
"If the Office of Good is declared vacant, there will be a nomination and voting by the remaining major Incarnations. Nox can neither nominate nor vote in that, because she is not of the forces of Day. But now she can act through Me. I will support her candidate."
"Who—"
Satan shook his head. "Nox is excellent at secrets. I must keep hers, until the time, lest the others marshal against it. No other is privileged to know her will."
"Her will has made endless mischief for me!" Orlene flared.
"So it seems. It may be that you would prefer to have the deal I proffered, instead of the alternative." He paused, but Orlene did not change her tormented mind. "But your options are not exhausted. What I proffered was a deal to shortcut your quest to My profit. You may still earn My curse, if you choose, and try to save your baby as you have planned."
"Oh," Orlene said, nonplussed. "I had forgotten, or thought you would no longer honor that."
"I honor every deal I make," Satan said. "Do Me My service, and I will guarantee your curse."
"Then I will do your service," she said. "What is it?"
"There is a new client who is uncooperative, as evil souls tend to be. I wish you to obtain his cooperation."
"But I know nothing of damned souls!" she protested.
"I believe you do know this one. His name is Kane."
Good God! Vita thought.
"Please refrain from using such language here, Vita," Satan said. "You must be aware it is out of place."
"We—We did kill him?" Orlene asked, disturbed anew.
"Technically, he killed himself. You were not truly at fault, and very little sin attaches to any of the four of you who were involved. He did, after all, initiate the sequence, and it was your right to defend the host. I will say that I regard your method as ingenious, however; seldom is a person killed by a story."
"I suppose we could try," Orlene said. "He can't kill us here, can he? I mean, Vita's body?"
"You will remain in the privileged passage, where no harm can come to you. Do not leave it, for a mortal host may not enter Hell proper. You will only talk to him, and persuade him to cooperate."
"What do you want from him?"
"The names of all the women he killed. There are, I believe, a fair number."
"You do not know them?"
"Orlene, Hell receives many thousands of souls every day! We process them in as well as we can, but we cannot pay close attention to all the details. In any event, the majority, of the women probably did not come to Hell, so we cannot interrogate them. The information must come from the ones we do have: the murderers."
"But what good can that information do? The girls arc already dead, and the murderer is already suffering!"
"But not as appropriately as he should be. Each damned soul should suffer the Atonements of his victims, according to the ancient convention. I cannot set these up until I have the identities of the women. With those, I can subpoena the records from Purgatory, and proper Atonement can begin."
"That never gets past the first one?" she asked sharply.
"That is not always the case. Sometimes they make it through a number before entering a closed loop."
"If I had any say in the matter, I'd get that fixed!" she cried. "I agree that they ought to do penance, but this only leads to bureaucratic gridlock! Nobody benefits!"
"Agreed. At such time as I have the final say, I shall make that little reform."
She sighed. "Show me the man. I'll do what little I can."
"Gladly. He is in the chamber nearest to this one, along the privileged passage. If you succeed in making him cooperate, I will know it, and I will reserve My curse for your use when the time comes. You may proceed directly down the passage to the other chamber, where you will be home back to Purgatory. You will not have to face Me again."
She looked at him, uncertain of his slant. Then she turned and exited.
The chamber was right there—and within it was Kane, still in his clothing, lying on his stomach, blood flowing from his groin. Evidently he had bled to death, but here there was no relief of unconsciousness, and he had to suffer consciously.
You know, Jolie told the story, Vita reminded them. Should she take over for this?
"No, it is my favor I am seeking," Orlene said. "I must do it. But I confess to having little notion how."
The man heard her. His head lifted. He grimaced. "Who are you? Another bad woman, come to torment me?"
"I think you are already in sufficient torment," Orlene said. "But it is true that I am associated with one you thought to make your victim. Do you remember the last one?"
"The black bitch? How could I forget! Look what she did to me!" He squinted at her. "But you aren't that one. I don't remember you."
"I was with her, in spirit, with two others. We told you the story of Lorelie. We were the ones who orchestrated your demise. The living host-girl could not have done it alone."
"For sure!" he agreed, wincing as his exclamation triggered more pain from the knife embedded in his flesh. "I killed a dozen before her, and none ever came close to getting away, let alone killing me."
"It was time to stop you," Orlene said. The man bothered her, and his condition; she knew he deserved it, but she hated seeing the pain.
"Maybe. Now take off; I don't need any more whores to laugh at me. I'm sorry I didn't get rid of all of you."
"I am here to ask you to cooperate with Satan. He needs the names of the women you killed."
Kane laughed, wincing as he did so. "Go ram this knife up yourself, you damned slut! I know what happens when Satan gets those names! Think I want to suffer for the whores? I'd rather leave this knife in me!" But after a pained pause, he qualified that. "Gak, it hurts, though!"
"Gak?"
"We can't say the G word here; didn't you know? Now get out; I won't give you that last laugh."
"But you can't progress, you can't be absolved of your sins, if you don't do this," Orlene argued. "You will be locked at this initial stage, forever suffering the knife. Surely you can't want that!"
"I'm stuck—ha-ha—with it!" he gasped. "It's better than giving those bitches the satisfaction. Let them work out their own sins; Gak knows they deserve to!"
He was certainly recalcitrant. Orlene did not know what else to say.
What about Laurie? Jolie thought. She's the one woman he worships. If she asked him—
Say, yeah! Vita agreed. Do you think she could be down here too? I mean, she must've whored just to survive, and she would've come back for him if she'd lived, so—
"Let's ask," Orlene said. She returned to Satan's door and knocked.
Again the door went up in flame. Satan stood within. "You have completed your assignment already?"
"I may be making progress. I need to know whether a certain woman is here in Hell."
Satan snapped his fingers. Immediately Ozymandias stood beside him. "Her name?" Satan asked.
"Laurel. I don't know her last name."
Ozymandias frowned. "That narrows it to about half a million. We could line them up for your inspection."
Describe her from his memory, Jolie thought. She made a mental picture of the madonna figure she had seen in Kane's mind.
"She is pretty—beautiful, really, even at age fifteen," Orlene said. "Perhaps not so when she died. Hair waist-length, dark, brown verging on black, figure slender, not pronounced. Eyes brown. She may have had to go into prostitution to survive when she ran away from home."
"About four thousand of that name answer that description," Ozymandias said, checking a notepad which appeared in his hand.
"She ran away about thirty years ago." He flipped a page. "Three hundred."
"She has a brother named Kane."
"Twelve."
"Who is five years younger than she."
"Two."
"If I could interview those two—"
"One moment." Ozymandias disappeared.
"Good man," Satan said. "I bless, if you will pardon the expression, the day I rescued him from anonymity. Laurel is the client's older sister?"
"Yes. I think she will have influence on him, if we can put them together."
"That would be irregular."
Orlene repressed a smile. "Just how serious is your interest in the client's cooperation, Satan?"
He almost smiled in return. "No doubt a deal can be made."
Jolie knew that Satan was pleased, but she wasn't sure why. Normally he did not appreciate backtalk from the denizens of Hell. Of course this was his stepdaughter; he liked seeing her take hold. But Jolie wasn't sure that was all of it.
Ozymandias reappeared. Behind him stood two young women. Both were pretty, but both had had hard use. Neither quite fitted Kane's mental picture.
But Orlene didn't give up. "Which one of you promised to return for your ten-year-old brother?"
"What's it to you?" the left one asked.
"He is here."
She put her hands to her face. "Oh, the poor boy! I was sure he was bound for H—" she choked.
"Heaven," Satan said. "The damned cannot say that word."
"She is the one," Orlene said. "I must talk to her, and then have her talk to him. What can I offer her for her cooperation?"
"One minute per hour, with him," Satan said. "If she is instrumental in making him cooperate."
Get a load of his generosity! Vita thought.
Orlene decided not to argue. "May I talk to her alone?"
"One minute," Satan said. He and Ozymandias and the other Laurel disappeared, leaving only Orlene and the woman in the office.
"We have only one minute," Orlene said. "Laurel, your brother loves you, and I think will do anything you ask of him. You are his madonna figure, his perfect woman. He is a mass murderer who was knifed to death at age forty, but he loves you. His Atonement can proceed faster if he cooperates. You can spend one minute of each hour with him if you get him to do that. Will you?"
"No!" Laurel cried. "He mustn't know how far I sank! Let him keep his good image of me!"
"If you don't tell him about your life, I won't. Just tell him to cooperate. Then, every hour, you can console him. I don't think he'll ever ask how you died, or how you came to be here. All he will care is that you have returned for him, even here in Hell. For one minute each hour he won't suffer so much. You can keep your promise."
"My promise!" she breathed. "My one good hope—"
Satan reappeared. "Well?"
"I must take her to the client's cell," Orlene said. She took Laurel by the arm and guided her out the door and down the hall. "You can enter," she told Laurel. "I cannot. Talk to him. Get him to cooperate, and the reward is yours."
Laurel saw the suffering man lying on the blood-soaked bed. Suddenly he assumed the form of a ten-year-old boy, uninjured. "Oh, Kane!" she cried, running in to him. Now she, too, was younger, fifteen and lovely.
"Laurel! You came!" he cried.
They embraced. "I said I would! But I cannot stay! You know this is Hell, Kane; you must do what they want, or you will never get out of it!"
"If you ask me—"
"We can be together—one minute each hour!"
"Then I will do it." His capitulation was that simple, once his deepest dream had been tapped. Orlene's effort of understanding and compassion had accomplished what Hell's torture had not.
Ozymandias appeared in the cell. "The names."
Kane, still held by his loving sister, started giving the names. Ozymandias noted them on a scroll with deft strikes of a quill.
Then he gestured. Laurel vanished, and Kane was back as an adult, with the knife. "She will return next hour," Ozymandias said, and vanished himself.
Kane gazed at Orlene. "You did this," he said.
"Yes."
He grunted something that almost sounded like "Thanks."
I still can't stand him, but I'm glad we did it, Vita thought. She spoke for them all.
Orlene turned away. She walked down the hall toward the exit. But when she came to the man she had talked with before, she paused.
"I asked Satan, but he said he couldn't change the rules. I am going to visit God next, and I will ask Him."
"I thank you," the man gasped, turning color. He was going into his suffocation stage.
"No, this isn't fair!" Orlene cried. "Atonement, yes, but not pointless torture!" She stepped into the chamber.
Halt! Jolie thought in desperation. You can't go there! It's off the—
But Orlene had already done it. Vita's mortal body came up against an invisible barrier and stopped, but Orlene's spirit went on. It was leaving the host, glowing.
What happens now? Vita thought, horrified.
We must pull her back! Jolie responded. She must not be discorporate in Hell!
They both grabbed at Orlene's spirit. But it stretched, the bulk of it going on into the cell. They were left holding the tail of the ghost, while the front reached the man.
Orlene put her faint hand on the man's head. The glow intensified, surrounding him. Go on to the next! she thought. Break the chain! You must do it!
The man stopped choking. He sat up, becoming gaunt. "I'm starving!" he exclaimed.
The joint pull exerted by Jolie and Vita finally prevailed. Orlene was drawn back into the host.
He's in the next torture! Vita thought, amazed.
"That boy—he stole money from a friend, and so the friend went hungry," the man said. "I am suffering that hunger. Oh, thank you, lovely spirit!"
I didn't know you could do such magic! Jolie thought.
"I can't," Orlene said, dazed. "He must have done it himself. I only encouraged him."
But Jolie had seen the glow. She knew that it required more than encouragement. Apparently there was an active component as well as a passive one to Orlene's lifelong magic.
Orlene went on, not quite understanding the significance of what she had done, at the dire risk of her soul. Had she not been hauled back, she would have been trapped in Hell, unable to escape despite her evident goodness.
They reached the end of the passage. The vapor closed about them. They moved upward, out of Hell.