Sympathy for the devil

by Holly Lisle

  "Little imp," Lucifer snarled, picking the imp up by the scruff of the neck, "tell me what you are called, that I may remember to curse you more fully after I have ground your very soulstuff into paste, ingested it, and shat it into the Bottomless Pit."

  The imp squirmed and shook. "Er . . . Earwax, Your Hellishness."

  "Earwax. You have only the time between one heartbeat and the next to tell me, Earwax, what exactly it was that you just said, or I will see that you spend an eon simply finding all your scattered atoms and pulling them back together before you can reform yourself into so much as a slime mold."

  "Good-guy-upstairs-stirring-things-up-with-the-Big-Guy-and-looking-at-us," Earwax whimpered in one terrified breath, while he dangled thirty feet in the air from the Evil One's needle-tipped talons. "In Charlotte, North Carolina," it added.

  "Charlotte, North Carolina, eh?" The Archfiend stared off into infinite space, thinking. "It seems to me we do a better than average business there . . . Oh, yes. That Charlotte. Automotive damnation cases—Hell's draftsmen designed the roads."

  Lucifer realized he was still holding the imp; with a snort of disgust, he pitched it over his shoulder and it bounced four times, then scurried away. The Archfiend bent over the soul-radar and watched the bright swirls of energy that indicated the building fronts of good and evil—the pattern, a spiraling storm center that spun slowly around a central eye, would have looked at home on a hurricane tracking chart. It indicated building tension, the coming of a big event . . .

  . . . And the Angel of Darkness knew that big events always left plenty of wandering souls in their wake—souls that with minimal effort could be corralled into his domain.

  He needed to get a team ready. He didn't know what was about to break—only God could tap directly into the lines of future events, but he could track their shadows and be ready.

  And Agonostis—whatever was going to happen, this would be the perfect punishment for him. Agonostis didn't know it yet, but he was about to get a demotion.

  Lucifer smiled slowly, and called up his list of servants who were furthest out of favor, and nearest to being downgraded to the unrank of damnedsouls and thrown into the Pit. These little special assignments always did much to stir up the enthusiasm of his deadweight employees. Sheer terror was a marvelous motivator.

  Chapter 8

  Dayne felt at peace. She stood in the shower with the icy water pounding on her back and smiled—it was as if God had lifted the weight of eternity off her shoulders. He'd heard her; and somehow she was sure he'd paid attention. She had never been so confident in her life that things were going to be okay—and although she didn't understand the feeling, she accepted it.

  She stepped out of the shower to find Athos and Porthos sitting and watching.

  She grinned. "Hi, guys." She bent down and scratched Athos behind the ears, dripping on him at the same time. The cat didn't mind, though Porthos would have stalked away with a wounded expression on his face had she tried the same trick with him. "Sorry I was in such a bad mood when I got home. I feel better now, though. So . . . you guys want something to eat?"

  At the word "eat," both cats stood and Porthos yowled musically.

  "Right. Silly question." She toweled off and pulled on a sleep shirt. She intended to spend the rest of the night sitting in front of the television, eating buttered popcorn and playing zombie. She had the next day off—her first day off in nine days, and she intended to sleep late, eat junk food, and otherwise make herself happy.

  Chapter 9

  God was chuckling as he strolled back to his secretary's desk.

  "I've got it," he said. He handed the secretary a beautiful scroll and said, "Key this in and send it on the Hotline straight to Hell. Make sure it's perfect when you send it—I don't want those fiends finding any loopholes I didn't intend." He chuckled. "I expect they'll cause quite enough trouble making use of the few I did intend."

  The angel unrolled the scroll and began to read. Its eyes went huge and round and it said, "Your Holiness . . . are you serious?"

  "Oh, certainly. I haven't done any miracles in ages . . . they've been too busy doing miracles of their own. Space travel, television, electronics, medicine . . . they've been very busy. But I think a miracle they can't ignore and can't debunk will be a lot of fun."

  "But don't you think this will give . . . er . . . him an edge?"

  God rested a hand on the angel's shoulder and said, "Evil never has the edge it thinks it has. People will surprise you. They certainly surprise me, even now. No, I think this will shake loose some people who have been growing complacent. It will wake my children up." He chuckled again. "Besides, I haven't allowed myself the pleasure of seeing that miserable old goat dance to my tune in years. I think this is the sort of tune that will get him stepping, don't you?"

  "Oh, yes," the angel said, staring at the long scroll covered with Lucifer's marching orders. "I certainly do."

  Chapter 10

  The fiery finger of doom seared a path down Agonostis' spine. He hurried down the circular stairway, swearing and snarling. The blazing summons in his hand left no doubt in his mind that he was in deep shit—he just hoped when he got the bad news he knew was coming, he wouldn't find himself literally so.

  Eventually he reached the bottom of the stairs and swept through the arched stone doorway into a dimly lit hall whose roof seemed to reach to black infinity. That was the other thing that tipped him off. Lucifer gave promotions in the office. When he met one of his servants in the throne room, the news was invariably foul.

  An onyx throne stood at the end of the long room, and the darkly beautiful figure of Agonostis' prince lounged there, waiting. Standing, Lucifer would have towered thirty feet tall. Even seated, he looked down on Agonostis, who, a single rank beneath the Archfiend, stood fifteen feet high himself.

  Agonostis always felt his insides knot when facing his master.

  "You're late, Agonostis."

  "Yes, my lord." There was no way not to be late getting to the throne room—it could only be reached by walking down those steps, and the steps extended—and kept extending—until the petitioner going down to face Lucifer was exactly late enough to put the Archfiend into a fine rage. Hell's architects had designed it that way . . . and Agonostis hoped every one of them got a chance to try the damned steps out, too.

  Lucifer was holding the report—Agonostis couldn't help but think of it as The Report.

  "Your Fornication numbers have fallen off," the Prince of Evil said in a cold, terrifying voice.

  "There's a plague on—sexually transmitted diseases." Agonostis winced at confessing that his problem was one caused by his archrival. But he forged onward. "Fornication fell off during the Black Plague, too. I've kept the losses from becoming too severe by pushing condom distribution in high schools and by making safe sex a big, public topic, and I've made fornication a civil rights issue instead of a moral issue, which I think was very clever of me. Your Evilness, all of this will blow over anyway as soon as my people come up with decent vaccines for the diseases they're dealing with. And it isn't like I'm behind on net—I've managed to offset the losses in fornicators by increasing souls damned by lust. My overall numbers are still up."

  "Your Fornication numbers are down. Any idiot should be able to maintain steady growth in that area of damnation; humans have a natural inclination to damn themselves in that direction anyway."

  "I'd like to see any idiot try," Agonostis muttered.

  "Would you really?" Lucifer smiled slowly, and Agonostis instantly regretted the words. "Well, you'll have the opportunity to do so. I'm demoting you to field operative on a special away mission—meanwhile, Jezerael will be promoted into your old post as Chief Fallen Angel of Lust and Fornication. We'll see if she can do a better job than you."

  Agonostis hated field op work. But his ears caught the second half of his new job description and his eyes narrowed. "Away mission? What the hell is an `away mission'?"

  Lucifer
's smile grew broader. He pulled out a sheet of yellow paper and said, "I just got this off the Hellex. Straight from He Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken, no less. Let me read it to you—I'm sure you'll find it enlightening."

  The Archfiend read:

  " `Command from on High

  " `By order of the God of Heaven and Earth, Creator of All Things . . .' blah, blah—You know how he loves to tack on the titles when he's sending messages to us—"

  " `O fallen angel who is anathema to me, you whose name shall not pass my lips until you have humbled yourself before me—' "

  Lucifer grinned. "Nice to know he's still smarting from that first dust-up. I'm looking forward to the next one. In any case—"

  " `By my order and on my express command and through the intercession of my daughter, Dayne Teresa Kuttner, you shall send forth out of Hell, under my parole, exactly fifty-eight thousand eight hundred fifty-one fallen angels, devils, demons, and assorted members of the lower orders of Hell's crawling vermin into the state of North Carolina—this number being exactly one one-hundredth of the human population in that state at the instant of my reckoning.

  " `Unchained denizens of Hell must obey the following rules:

  o They will neither inflict, nor pay to have inflicted, any physical harm on any human.

  o They will not parent a child with a human, either with or without the human's consent.

  o They will not steal by supernatural means.

  o They will not cause any disease or plague, nor will they act as the agents through which any disease or plague is transmitted.

  o They will not impersonate a minister, God, or angel of God, or any divine messenger of God.

  o They will not cause any virgin births.

  o They will not leave the State of North Carolina.

  " `The Unchained denizens of Hell may:

  o Lie, tempt, deceive, mislead, and otherwise carry out the usual agenda of Hell.

  o Impersonate human beings if that is within their nature and capacity.

  o Own property, become citizens, hold offices, own and operate legal businesses, marry humans—if the humans are apprised of their true nature beforehand and no intimidation is used—and in all other legal ways approved by the State of North Carolina attempt to achieve a normal life on Earth.

  o Enter into binding contracts with human beings—with one of the two following stipulations:

  1) The human must be fully apprised of the nature of the contract and the nature of all parties involved in the contract; or,

  2) The human must sign the contract with his own blood. (Percentage of blood to inert materials not specified; blood must be less than twenty-four hours old in Earth-sequential time only, as per previous agreements between Heaven and Hell; human must know that blood has been drawn; no blood from blood donorship or other merciful blood collection agencies, or from accidents and injuries may be used.)

  " `Repent.'

  "Repent," Lucifer muttered again, and cocked an eyebrow at Agonostis. "It is going to be the duty of my away commander to make sure there aren't any repenters." His voice was ominous when he said it. He continued to read:

  " `Unchained denizens of Hell must:

  o Eat and drink mortal food, or their Earthly bodies will wither and fail, and they will have to pay Heaven for new ones. Heaven will charge a cost-per-body fee plus punitive wastage tax for any Earthly bodies above and beyond the one that will be issued free from Heaven per Hell-soul at the time of exit from Hell—this will be collected by the usual revenue methods. These Heaven-issued Earth-bodies will be indistinguishable from the individual Hellspawn's normal form and will have all the Hellspawn's usual abilities excluding those which would run counter to the above decrees.

  o Obtain their sustenance in the normal mortal way—that is, by growing food or paying for it with cash or barter.' "

  Agonostis swallowed. "And I am to be one of these Unchained, treading the Earth and seducing humans into damnation while . . . holding down a job?"

  Lucifer laughed. It was a harsh and hollow sound. "Oh, I wouldn't think of demoting you as far as that . . . yet. No, no, Agonostis." The Archfiend looked down at Agonostis and his eyes blazed red. "You're going to be in charge. This will be your chance to prove to me that you still have what it takes to make it as a fallen angel in Hell. We haven't had one of the original Fallen busted back to imp since . . . gracious! . . . since that unfortunate incident with Shedhurdzashel and the failed temptation of Billy Graham. You remember that, of course."

  Agonostis nodded. He was feeling faint.

  "So I'm sure you'll come through for me."

  "I'm going to be responsible for fifty-eight thousand Hellspawn . . ." Agonostis swallowed again. His heart felt as if it was lodged in his throat. "On Earth. What sort of tracking facilities will I have?"

  "I'll finance a nice central office, and rent space for several satellite offices—and make sure you're supplied with start-up technology—"

  "I'll probably rather buy locally," Agonostis said, thinking of Hell's equipment, which was slightly more archaic than Communist Russia's had been, and which was built and tested by equally enthusiastic, inspired workers.

  "—technology," Lucifer repeated stiffly, "an adequate staff, some seed capital, and a base starting salary for you and your officers. I'll expect net profits within the fiscal year—we'll run it from October to October for the sake of accounting convenience."

  "You mean net profits in souls?"

  "I mean net profits in souls and money. We're incurring expenses from Heaven from this—I expect to counterbalance those expenses and make a nice net, too. If you're going to be on site, make it worth my while to have you there."

  Agonostis nodded. Keep fifty-eight thousand plus Hellspawn in line with Hell's stinking equipment and God's stinking rules and generate a profit. He'd known this was going to be bad. He hadn't imagined the depths to which bad could sink. "Yes, your Foulness," he said, keeping his eyes on the ground. He sighed deeply and turned to go.

  "That isn't all, Agonostis."

  Agonostis' skin began to itch—he knew the hives would be coming at any time. "Sir?" he said slowly.

  "I want you to give the damnation of one particular mortal your special attention."

  Agonostis didn't want to know, but he looked at his lord and master and asked, "Who, sir?"

  The Archfiend's grin was especially evil as he said, "Dayne Teresa Kuttner, of course."

  Agonostis would have wept if he could have. Those people who could request major favors from God—like the Unchaining of nearly sixty thousand Hellspawn, for example—and get God to answer were not people whose damnation he wanted to hear depended on him. He felt suddenly that he knew how Shedhurdzashel had felt when he'd been commanded to corrupt Billy Graham.

  The Malevolent One patted him on the head. "I know how you would loathe being an imp, Agonostis. So don't let me down on this."

  "No, Your Loathsomeness." Agonostis was remembering the imp he'd eaten earlier in the day for bringing his daily paperwork to him late. He didn't want to be an imp at all.

  "Well, then. You'd best hurry. The rest of the away team is already packing—you're to leave in one hour. I'll expect you to stop by the main office on your way out to pick up a list of your orders and rules and my . . . suggestions. I'll expect you to find ways around God's rules, too."

  "How are we to get . . . out?"

  Lucifer shrugged. "God is providing the transportation on this. I have no idea what method he intends to use."

  Agonostis nodded silently and turned away again, and again Lucifer stopped him. "There's no time limit on the rest of the assignment, but I want Dayne Kuttner's soul in my ledger in thirty days."

  Agonostis' shoulders drooped. Thirty days? Without a word, he left the throne room and climbed up the stairs, which stretched evilly on the way back up—simply because he was depressed—and returned to his office, still dragging.

  Jezerael, swearing mightily, was throwing things out o
f Agonostis' desk when he got there. The other fallen angel glared up at him, and without a word, went back to flinging things that didn't belong to her across the cubicle.

  Agonostis' spirits lightened. "Heard you got a promotion," he said.

  Jezerael's swearing got louder.

  "Heard you're going to get Fornication back on line." Agonostis chuckled. "Though with all those awful plagues Earthside, I'll be very interested to see how you do that." He clucked his tongue and shook his head in mock solicitude.

  Jezerael threw an obscene gesture and said, "I heard you got a demotion."

  Agonostis smiled at her. "Sixty thousand of Hell's finest doing my bidding, a main office and satellite branch offices, and a vacation someplace cool and green—I don't know that I'd call that a demotion."

  "The grapevine . . ."

  ". . . Is full of sour grapes, Jezerael. You know that."

  Agonostis picked up his belongings before Jezerael could break any more of them and strolled out of the office looking cheerful. He didn't allow his depression to show again until he was back in his quarters.

  Then, however, he dropped into his wing-back chair and buried his head in his hands and muttered to himself.

  "Keep all of Hell's little devils in line, Agonostis. Don't let them repent, Agonostis. Make money, Agonostis. Bring me Dayne Kuttner's soul, Agonostis. In one month, Agonostis. And she's going to take one look at me and kneel and clasp her hands and say, `God, get that thing out of here,' and—Bam!—there I'll be. Agonostis the Grease Stain. Maybe I should just spit in Lucifer's face and let him turn me into an imp now."