Parry made sure that Hell was functioning reasonably, gave Nefertiti a holiday in mock Heaven, and collected five mis-allocated souls. In Hell proper they were just like living folk, but would become ethereally slight beyond. He explained the situation to them: that they were the victims of confusion, and had been held temporarily in Hell pending proper release to Heaven. Now he proposed to release them one at a time, carrying the others with him, so that he could follow them to Heaven for an interview with God.
"I am Satan, the Father of Lies," he concluded. "I can offer you no proof that this is the truth, and you are not required to cooperate. But it is the only way I have to find Heaven, and I hope that you will cooperate in the chance that it is true."
They considered, and decided that if they truly were in Hell now, nothing they could do would free them from it unless they were released by the Lord of Evil. If this was to be such a release, it behooved them to cooperate; if it was merely a deception, they were lost anyway. So they agreed.
He escorted them out. As they emerged from Hell, they thinned into mere webs of themselves, patterns without substance. They had no consciousness; that was feasible only in Hell, Purgatory, Heaven, or when animated on Earth as a ghost. But when brought to an appropriate region, their souls should float. Parry wound them in like gauze and packed them into a bag he carried.
He conjured himself to Earth's surface. Then he brought out one soul and released it. Immediately it set off, attracted to Heaven by the burden of good in its makeup. He followed, using his magic to fly, keeping the pace.
The soul sailed upward, but not exactly vertically. It was not going to the sky, but to Heaven, a different matter. It wavered and swerved in the ethereal currents, its faint color changing, and in a moment he lost it.
Undismayed, he brought out the second and released it. He had not expected to be able to follow one the whole way; if the route to Heaven were straightforward, it would not be such a mystery!
The second soul seemed to hesitate, but this was illusion; without consciousness, it was simply drifting in the pattern of good and evil, perhaps caught in an eddy. In a moment it found the way and moved out.
This one took him into Purgatory. That was perplexing; he was sure that this was a good soul, bound for Heaven. Only those in such balance that no decision was possible remained in Purgatory.
Then he realized that the way to Heaven lay through Purgatory. Even those souls not staying there still had to check through; there was no direct access to Heaven. It seemed obvious in retrospect.
The soul moved into a region of increasing confusion. There were trees, but they were bulbous and oddly colored. There were paths, but they had strange convolutions. There were landscapes, unlike those of any mortal region. It was interesting; he would have to set up a region of Hell with similar configurations.
The soul moved through the middle of it—and was lost. Parry brought out the third one and let it go.
It swam through the confusion, and was similarly lost.
Parry paused. He had not been able to follow the third soul at all; it had disappeared into Limbo too quickly. He only had two remaining, having perhaps underestimated the extent of this challenge.
Limbo? He looked around more carefully. Indeed, this was like that bleak region of Hell. It was simply a field of chaotic images, with no organization.
Chaotic...
This was a waste, an aspect of chaos! That part of the universe with original entropy, without form and void. He had heard that Fate spun her threads of life from this substance. Now he was in it—and no wonder he was losing the souls, for there was no order here, nothing to differentiate object from background, life from nonlife. Nothing could be pursued through chaos, t He would have to get beyond it before releasing the next soul. But he paused.
Why should Fate spin her threads of life from this mélange? The good was hopelessly confused with the evil. Fate was on the side of good; she would not want this!
Yet evidently she did. And so the lives formed from her threads were almost indecipherable mélanges of good and evil, impossible to classify clearly. Thus those lives had to struggle through the horrors of mortality before finally coming to Heaven or to Hell. What a colossal waste!
But he was unsatisfied with that conclusion. Fate was a devious and unpleasant creature of many personalities, but she knew well what she was doing. She would not spin from this stuff if she had any alternative. She—
Then it came to him. Chronos had explained about entropy and chaos; that it seemed to be the duty of the Incarnations to diminish each, to bring order and comprehension to the universe. That could not be done by ignoring chaos. They were deliberately drawing from chaos, fashioning it into lives—so that these could be defined as good or evil!
All that agony of mortality—just to deal with the problem of entropy. To process the stuff of chaos through to Heaven and Hell, properly classified at last. Eventually all of it would be done, and the universe would be in order.
But at what a cost! How many thousands, how many thousands of thousands of lives like Jolie's, had to be twisted and tortured and cut short, just to accomplish this goal? What a vasty cynicism!
Yet it was being done, and under God's auspices. The end justified the means! There was that treacherous doctrine that Lilah had used to corrupt him—and now it was obvious that God subscribed to it, too. The end of creating order justified the means of toil and suffering for innumerable mortal lives. He had used it to corrupt the Inquisition: the end of saving souls justified the means of torture and pillaging of the estates of those accused.
Parry sighed. He was now the Incarnation of Evil. He knew evil when he spied it, even if the other Incarnations did not. It was past time to talk to God and set Him straight on this.
Now he moved on through the confusion, closing his eyes because it would be too easy to get lost here. He knew that the extent of the void was limited; if he proceeded straight, he would in due course get out of it. A mortal might become hopelessly lost, but he was now an immortal.
He opened his eyes, and found that he was still in it. He closed them and moved on again. But when he looked, he remained in chaos.
Had he been too optimistic about his ability to escape it? Evidently it had affected his bearings, and now he was not moving the way he thought he was. What irony, if the Lord of Evil fell prey to chaos!
But there was another way. He brought out the fourth soul, and did not release it. The thing tried to move, and stretched out from his hand, but remained captive.
He moved in the direction it seemed to be trying to go. He tuned out the surrounding chaos and oriented on the soul. Wherever it wanted to go, there he would go, carrying it along.
And, without perceiving exactly when, he emerged from the void. The soul had known its destination, and brought him out.
Now he let it go. It accelerated, as if glad to be free. He followed, coursing on toward Heaven. He kept his attention fixed on it, so that he would not lose it.
Then it slowed, and he realized that they had arrived. The Circles of Heaven were forming around them.
The outermost was a blaze of light a phenomenal brilliance, a ring of fire that resembled the outline of the sun, but became much larger, swelling to encompass the horizon. He thought there might be some challenge as he entered it, but there was not; he simply joined it and was in Heaven.
He stood on the edge of a bright cloud bank. All around stood faintly glowing folk. They did not have wings; they were souls, not angels, just as the souls in Hell lacked the tails of demons. Oddly, they did not look particularly happy; rather they seemed resigned, or even bored.
He brought out the fifth soul and let it go; he had no need for its guidance now. Instead of traveling, it unfolded into its human form: a middle-aged man, dead of the plague but no longer disfigured by it. He gazed around, perplexed. "This is it?" he asked.
"This is it," Parry agreed. "Your eternal home. May you enjoy it."
The man looked uncertain, obviously not willing to express disappointment. He drifted away.
Perhaps this was no more than the outer rim of Heaven, analogous to Limbo in Hell, where those souls drifted that were imperfect, not good enough, literally, to penetrate farther into Heaven. No wonder the soul he had released was disappointed! There really was not much difference between this aspect of Heaven and that aspect of Hell.
But he wasn't here to tour Heaven; he was here to meet God. Where would God be? Surely in the center, the highest reach, just as the Incarnation of Evil's office was in the nethermost reach of Hell.
Parry flew up to the next level. This was not precisely physical motion, but rather a mental effort to enter a deeper circle; it was evident that the standing souls could not do it.
The Second Heaven was starkly different from the First. It was a bleak landscape, bare rock and sand, pocked by craters of every size. It was in fact the face of the Moon. Many spirits stood idle here, too, looking scarcely happier than those below.
He moved on to the Third Heaven, which was an improvement: it was the landscape of Venus, the Planet of Love.
Yet, somehow, it seemed little more illustrious than the Moon. It was supposed to be the joy of the spirits of lovers, but since carnality was forbidden in Heaven, all they could do was stand around and gaze longingly at one another. The appeal of that seemed to pall in the course of eternity.
The Fourth Heaven was the Sphere of the Sun. This was certainly brighter, and the souls were engaged in animated dialogue with each other. These were the theologians and fathers of the Church, and of course they never tired of their exercises in interpretation.
The Fifth Heaven was the Sphere of Mars, with the warrior spirits. But, of course, there was no fighting in Heaven, so they were idle.
The Sixth Heaven was the Sphere of Jupiter, with the spirits of the righteous rulers. This was sparsely settled.
He proceed on past the Seventh Heaven of the Sphere of Saturn, with the spirits of the contemplative, and the Eighth Heaven, consisting of fixed stars. Many of the Saints were here. They lacked the passions of normal folk, so it was not surprising that they were not jubilant.
The Ninth Heaven seemed to be the retreat mostly of angels; the Tenth—
This, he realized, was where God should be. But where was He? Parry gazed about, and saw only an enormous pattern of tight that could be interpreted as—
Then he realized that the light, when correctly viewed, formed the image of an infinitely monstrous human face framed within a triple halo. This, at last, was God.
Parry waved. There was no response. "Haloo!" he called. There was no response.
God simply was not paying attention.
After some time, disgruntled. Parry gave it up. He dropped rapidly down through the layers of Heaven until he reached the outer one. He was about to depart it when there was a cry.
"My Lord Satan!"
There was a stirring among the apathetic souls of this region. From among them came the man he had last released. "My Lord, I beg you, take me back with You!"
Surprised, Parry waited for him. "You don't like Heaven?"
"My Lord, it is just as dull as Hell—and most of my friends are in Hell. I would rather remain there."
"But you don't belong in Hell. The balance of your soul is positive."
"Only marginally, my Lord. I will never get beyond this outer circle. I'd be better off in the mock Heaven annex of Hell, if I get leave to visit there. Please, my Lord, take me back!"
Such a situation had never occurred to Parry. Yet the soul was serious. Was there a precedent for this?
There was another stirring. The other souls shrank away. "The guardian angels!" someone murmured.
Now Parry saw them: bright winged figures in the form of big, bruising men, swiftly approaching.
"Please, my Lord!" the soul repeated.
Perhaps it was the angels that tipped his decision. Parry did not like the look of them. It seemed to him that they could readily serve similar duty in Hell. "Very well," he said. He extended his hand, touching the man.
Immediately the man thinned into a web, the soul discarnate. Parry wound this around his hand, compacting it so that it would fit into his pouch. Souls had no mass but did have dimension; it would not do to have it drag out behind him.
The angels arrived. "Let go that soul!" one ordered.
In the past century Parry had grown unaccustomed to that tone of address from either demons or damned souls. He found he liked it no better from an angel. But this was not his realm, so he let it pass. He closed the pouch, confining the soul, and turned away.
"Listen, fringe-spirit," the angel said contemptuously. "If you know what's good for you—"
"Hardly," Parry said, with an ironic smile. He started to sink down through the cloud bank.
The angel reached menacingly for him. "I warned you!" But the grasping hand passed through Parry's substance without effect. Parry dropped on down, and in a moment was out, leaving the astonished and dismayed angel behind. He was not impressed with either Heaven or its guardians. No wonder the soul wanted to leave!
He reached the vague region of chaos and plunged straight on through it. And realized too late that there was no direction in chaos. He did not emerge; he was mired in it, again.
Last time, he had used one of the souls he carried to guide him. He tried it again, appreciating the coincidence that had caused a soul to accompany him this time.
The soul oriented and stretched out. Parry followed its direction, holding on as he had before. It was working!
Soon they cleared chaos and approached—Heaven.
Now, in retrospect, he realized that this soul, being marginally good, naturally levitated toward Heaven, not Hell. The soul's private desire had nothing to do with it; it was the balance of good and evil on it. If he wanted a guide toward Hell, he would have to find a suitably damned soul.
In Heaven? Well, there could have been similar errors in classification that resulted in marginally damned souls being sent to Heaven. Perhaps he could find one of those. But would it want to go to Hell?
Parry sighed. It really would be better to find his own way. He would just have to keep trying.
He bundled up the soul again and put it in the pouch. Then he closed his eyes and plunged as fast as he could.
And got lost again. Chaos took no note of direction or velocity; such concepts were valid only in a somewhat organized framework.
Maybe his own damned soul could do it! He tried to let himself go, to sink toward his natural realm as if he were a newly released soul.
After a timeless time—time was another invalid concept here—he realized that this wasn't working either. No matter what he did, or didn't do, he was stuck in the Void. Unless he gave up and used the captive soul to guide him back to Heaven. That he did not want to do!
He tried one more thing, foolish as he deemed it: he called for help. "Traveler lost!" he thought as loudly as he could, though neither loudness nor thought had validity here. Anyway, who was here to listen or respond?
"Here, lost one!"
Parry stopped still, though that too could not be literal. There He did not, at this stage, care whom it might be. He oriented on it and went.
It turned out to be a rather old patriarchal-appearing man, white-bearded and garbed in a vaguely clerical robe. He nodded sagely as Parry approached. "You ventured into forbidden territory, traveler." His language was not Parry's, but here, as in Hell, all languages seemed one.
"So it turned out," Parry agreed wryly. "I thank you for rescuing me."
"It is my business to rescue lost souls, when they wish it. But it has been some time since one like you appeared." He gestured, and a room appeared around them. "Make yourself comfortable, and perhaps we shall converse."
"You are able to direct me from this region?" Parry asked, taking a seat in a staid but serviceable chair.
"Direct you? I am not sure. But fear not; I gladly will guide you. I use an aspect of the Llano, which is about the only force that can penetrate chaos."
There was the Llano again! "That I sincerely appreciate! But please, may I know your identity? I—" Then Parry realized that the other might not be pleased to learn whom he has rescued.
"I am JHVH." He did not actually pronounce the name; it was only a concept.
There was no help for it; Parry was not going to deceive the one who had helped him. "I am Satan, the Incarnation of Evil."
"Ah, the Christian variant!" JHVH said, extending his hand. "I am glad to meet You at last."
Parry hesitated. "Are you sure you want to—" Then the identity of the other finally registered. "But you are—"
"The Hebrew Deity. Come, Satan, surely You are not shy of Me?"
Parry finally took the hand. "I just thought—do you know, uh, do You know, I came to confront the Christian God. I never expected—of course I should have recognized—"
"Quite all right, Satan. I do not have the following that either of You do, or, indeed, that Allah does, or any of the great Oriental Presences. I am in fact a minor Deity, and My believers suffer much from persecution."
"But you—you are older than any of—"
"My Office is, perhaps. I myself date only from the last three thousand years or so. I was a Mountain Deity, adopted by a wandering tribe, in competition with many others. When I started, it seemed impossible to prevail against Baal, My chief rival in that region. He kept stealing My people, and—well, it is a long story, hardly of interest to You."
"But you—You are ancient! Both Christianity and the Saracens derive from—"
JHVH waved a hand in negation. "That is an exaggeration. The Prophet Jesus was Mine, certainly, but then his followers were diverted and a new Office was formed. I admit I did not take it seriously at first; none of us did. Splinter gods occur constantly, and few survive more than a few decades. But this faction got in with the Romans, and then it prospered, and the Office with it."
Parry was amazed. "You are saying that there are many Offices? That the old Gods still exist?"
JHVH smiled. "Any Deity or Devil that any mortal believes in exists, and that entity is strengthened by the number and intensity of His believers. Thus Your Office is very strong, because great numbers of mortals believe in You, though they try to deny it."
"I—I never realized! I thought—"
"That the Christian version of Good and Evil were all that exist?" JHVH asked with a smile.
"Something like that," Parry admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "Or that our mutual framework accounted for everything. You mentioned Baal; I believe he became Beelzebub, the Lord of Flies, in My Hell."
"Yes, the Deities of one generation become the Devils of the next; the Christians adopted him for a time."
Parry remained out of sorts. "How is it that You, knowing this, have extended aid to one like Me? Surely you wish to abolish all that I represent!"
"We may be rivals, but We are not enemies," JHVH said. "We are all trying to bring order from chaos, as you know."
Parry smiled ruefully. "I have just had a reminder how awkward chaos can be! But You are correct; I had concluded that it was pointless to continually fight God, when actually We should be cooperating toward the common objective."
"So You went to see Him, on that mission of amity," JHVH said. "And got nowhere."
"And got nowhere," Parry agreed. "He is locked in a narcissistic contemplation of Himself. Apparently He is not paying any attention to the routine matter of the mortal realm, or indeed of Heaven."
JHVH nodded. "I fear I was no better in my heyday. I demanded above all else the adulation of Me. The first commandment of my people was 'Thou shall have no other gods before Me.' When My people worshipped a golden calf, My rage was not because they were slipping back into idolatry and its uncivilized imperatives, but because it was a slight against Me. I retaliated by visiting on them all manner of mischief. But I concluded after some centuries of chronic relapsing on their part that rage and punishment was not the best way to hold a clientele. It is only the most primitive of mortals who are swayed by that sort of thing. So I ameliorated My stance, and I think have been a better Deity for it, though it is true that I do not attract the same proportion of mortals that I once did. Unfortunately the young Christian Deity took Me as a role model and emulated some of the worst faults of My heyday, especially that of pride. His enormous success has given Him the freedom to indulge those propensities beyond all reason. Humiliation can indeed make better Deities of Us, because We are reminded that We do not control the universe. Pride unchecked..."
Parry had to smile. For the first time he saw some slight benefit in the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the other Incarnations! His pride had never gotten out of bounds.
"I wonder if You, in Your contemplations, have come across the answer to the riddle I have wrestled with," he said. "I have been unable to decide whether, in the framework of the assignments of Good and Evil as Incarnations, it is my purpose to locate evil or to generate it. The task of sorting good from evil suggests that it is the former, but the practice seems to have been the latter. Now, in the face of God's dereliction—" He shrugged.
"Surely it is to locate evil," JHVH said. "Or perhaps to evoke it. We know that evil is omnipresent; every mortal thread represents an admixture of good and evil so intricate as to be virtually inseparable. The question thus becomes not whether evil is present, as obviously it is, but to what extent it dominates the individual. You thus must do Your utmost to evoke that quality of evil that makes an individual eligible for Hell, so that no errors of classification are made."
"To evoke it!" Parry repeated, wonderingly. "Yes, of course!"
"That is what Your predecessors were doing, from the time of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil on. They were tempting mortals into sin, knowing that temptation is the surest method to evoke hidden evil. Mortals of course condemn such efforts, but consider the alternative: hidden evil would have remained in the Garden of Eden, unresolved. The Deity of that time, the ancestor to God's current office and Mine, finally recognized this, and allowed mortal man to proceed to the challenging outer world. The result has been history."
"It has indeed!" Parry agreed warmly. "Your perspective enlightens Me!"
"It is a pleasure to review basic principles," JHVH said. "So few are interested."
"But now, with God tuned out, the separation of good from evil is becoming sloppy," Parry said. "Heaven hardly differs from Hell in certain respects; aimlessness seems to dominate. I have a soul here"—he patted his pouch—"who asked to return to Hell from Heaven. Consider what that suggests for incentive! If mortals lose both their desire for Heaven and their fear of Hell, how will a proper separation of good from evil be accomplished?"
"The Buddhists seem to manage it by arranging for the extinction of all personal desires and passions, leaving the spirit perfect."
"But it loses its identity in the whole!" Parry protested. "Christians would never go for that! They insist on retaining their identities for eternity, good and evil and all."
"That does seem to be their problem," JHVH agreed.
"Which means that we can't simply extract the good and evil, we have to deal with the whole soul. That's much more difficult. That's the problem I want to address. But God—"
"Perhaps new guidance is called for. In the old days, if one Deity faltered, others were quick to take away His worshippers. The lack of such a situation may be the contemporary problem."
Parry stared at him. "You are not suggesting that—that I try to—to—"
"I am merely posing a notion," JHVH said. "Perhaps it is an unworthy one. But it may be best to consider it carefully, so as to expose its unsuitability."
"To take over the leadership of the Christian realm from God, so as to be able to establish an improved mechanism for processing souls," Parry finished.
"As I understand Your framework, all that is required is the amassing of a greater number of souls than is controlled by Your opposite. God has dominated because most mortals prefer to go to Heaven when they die."
"They wouldn't, if they knew how dull it was!"
"Then perhaps you may want to spread the word."
Parry was uncertain. "If my objective is to find a more efficient way to separate the threads, to evoke the evil ones instead of letting the matter drag on interminably, what would be gained by bringing an increased number of marginal souls to Hell?"
"Only power, the power brought by the number of souls in Your domain," JHVH said. "Would it corrupt you, also?"
"It might. I have never had complete power, and am not sure I trust myself with it."
"A sensible caution," JHVH agreed.
"Yet I am unwilling to let this folly continue," Parry said. "I wish I could simply settle it with God and be done with it."
"In Hell, are You the sole administrator?"
"Hardly! I have a hierarchy of damned souls to handle—" Parry broke off, catching on. "It must be the same in Heaven! If I talked to the chief administrator—"
"That was My thought."
"Which I think would be the Angel Gabriel. He is the one who is to blow the horn on Judgment Day."
"Gabriel is in My service too," JHVH remarked. "He has been My chief messenger, and the Prince of Thunder and Fire, not to mention Death. He also revealed the sacred laws to Mohammed."
"I am amazed at the manner he gets around!"
"Evidently God offered him a superior position, just as Your predecessor offered one to Baal. Good administrators are hard to come by."
"All too true," Parry agreed. "I thank You for Your advice. I shall go to see Gabriel."
"Call when You wish to pass through the void again, and I will come and guide You, Satan," JHVH said.
"I shall. But I don't know how I can repay you."
"I have I trust passed beyond the need for repayment."
Perhaps He had; but Parry intended to repay the debt if he ever had opportunity. He also intended to learn more of the Llano, that persuasive and powerful song, so that perhaps he could travel safely through chaos himself.
Returning to Heaven was no problem; the captive soul guided him. When they arrived, the soul reformed into the man. "But this is Heaven!" he exclaimed. "My Lord, I thought You were going to take me back!"
"I am," Parry replied. "But I am going to make another attempt to negotiate here. You may remain in My pouch if you wish, and I will release you when we return to Hell."
"Thank you," the soul said, and thinned to evanescence. Parry rolled it up again and returned it to his pouch.
Now he needed to locate the Angel Gabriel. From his days as a friar he remembered that there were three broad classes of angels, with Gabriel in the top rank. That was probably in the Ninth Heaven.
He was about to set off when he saw the guardian angels approaching again. They evidently recognized him, for they looked angry. Well, perhaps they could be of some use to him this time.
"Take me to your leader," he said to the first.
"Just who do you think you are?" the angel demanded.
"The Incarnation of Evil," Parry replied evenly.
The angel did a double take. "You—how can you be here? This is Heaven!"
"Heaven is not as well run as it once was," Parry replied. "Now, are you going to guide me to the Angel Gabriel, or shall I find him myself?"
"I will have to consult with my superior," the angel said, disgruntled.
"Do that," Parry said. It was always better to go through channels, if that was feasible.
The angel's superior was a Dominion, a member of the intermediate class of angels. "The Incarnation of Evil? Here? Impossible!"
"Then who the Hell do you suppose I am?" Parry inquired with a sardonic smile.
In a moment he was before the Dominion's superior, who was a Seraphim, an angel in the First Circle of the heavenly hierarchy. He had six wings, which were independently flexible. He also had experience and a realistic approach. "How quickly can we cause You to depart these demesnes, Incarnation?"
"As quickly as you can get me an interview with Gabriel."
The Angel Gabriel was there, drawing a cloak of privacy about the two of them. "Yes?"
"I want to facilitate the processing of good and evil, so that needless suffering of souls may be abated," Parry said. "I attempted to talk with God directly, but he did not respond."
"God is temporarily distracted," Gabriel said.
"I am relatively new to My office. Only a century or so. I am not yet inured to needless suffering. I am ready to punish truly evil souls, but not to torment those whose only guilt is the coincidence of being wrought from the mixed thread of chaos. There has to be a better way."
"That would be for God to say."
"If," Parry continued evenly, "God does not say, then I shall be forced to take action on my own initiative."
"You have the temerity to threaten God?"
"Offhand I would say that God is not doing his job, and is due for replacement. I am trying to avoid taking that action myself, but will take it if you offer no alternative."
"God does not make deals with Lucifer!"
"I am Satan."
Gabriel was too old a hand to call a bluff he was uncertain of winning. "God may elect to deal with this matter directly in due course. Suppose, in the interim, we arrange an alternative contest?"
This could be interesting. "What do you have in mind?"
"We will designate a single mortal person whose influence can be critical. If You cannot corrupt that person, or that person's child or grandchild, to enable You to take power, You will forever abate Your effort."
Parry made a soundless whistle. "You are not an amateur at this sort of negotiation!"
Gabriel almost smiled. "I never claimed to be. This would represent a bloodless way to settle the issue, if that is truly Your desire. Are You interested?"
Parry pondered. A single mortal person? How could such a person possibly foil the wiles of the Incarnation of Evil? It was suspiciously simple. So was Gabriel's use of the capital when addressing him. There had to be a catch. In fact, it was evident that this was no spur of the moment deal; Gabriel had come well prepared. "Who?"
Gabriel waggled an admonishing finger. "I did not say I would give You that information."
Oho! "When?"
"Nor that."
"Where?"
"Nor that."
The nature of the challenge was becoming clearer. How could he corrupt a mortal when he had no information about that mortal's identity? "That is not a wager I care to risk."
Gabriel considered. "Perhaps if we provided one of those items of information?"
"Three," Parry said firmly.
"Two."
Parry pondered. "I select the two."
"You select one."
The Angel was a hard bargainer! But the notion of this challenge had an insidious appeal. Gabriel had said that this mortal's influence would be critical, and Gabriel's word was good. That meant that Parry really could win power over God if he manipulated the situation correctly. It certainly seemed preferable to allowing the continuing and needless suffering of a host of mortals.
"Agreed," he said. "Tell me the name."
"Niobe Kaftan."
The name did not register, but of course there were too many mortal identities for him to remember. He would research it the moment he returned to Hell. "And the information you choose to provide?"
"The time," Gabriel said. "That person will come into mortal existence early in the twentieth century."
"The twentieth century!" Parry exploded. "That's six centuries away!"
Gabriel shrugged. "You did not bargain for a particular time."
Parry realized that Gabriel had outsmarted him, and thereby bought six centuries of grace for his Master. He had been had—but he had to admire the finesse of it. He extended his hand. "It is not every day that someone outwits the Master of Deception."
Gabriel took the hand. "I daresay such a day will not soon come again."
"If you ever stand in need of a position—"
Gabriel smiled. "Perhaps in six centuries."
They had an understanding. Meanwhile, they remained opposed.