

#### My Champion Kisser

####

#### by David J. Wighton

#### 

#### Book #21 in the Wilizy Series

###

### Smashwords Edition

###

### Copyright 2020, David J. Wighton

###

### This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy.

### Although this e-book might be sold at no cost to the reader at times, I retain ownership of the copyright and may elect to charge a small amount for its purchase at times.

### Thank you for respecting my copyright.

# Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to my wife, Dale, and to my other family members whose support made it possible.

Cover design by Rita Toews at E-Book Covers, East St. Paul, Manitoba.

Cover image: ©violetas - Can Stock Photo Inc.

**Parent and Reader Advisory**

As a science-fiction novel, some events in this book take place in a fictional location named _Heaven_ where mythical creatures named _angels_ exist. Included as well are mythical _devils_ and _demon_ s existing in a fictional _Hell_.

The descriptions of the two fictional afterlives are intended as a satire, not as a commentary on your religious beliefs. As a satire, these two afterlives are described in somewhat ridiculous ways. Please do not take these depictions seriously or as an affront to your religious beliefs.

# Wilizy Family Members as of March 2091

• Doc and Granny, about 79 years old.

• Hank (about 49) and Yolanda (about 45).

• Cowboy (26), Bean (23).

• Wolf (25), Mac (25), Jock Jr. (6), Emily (4), Jock Sr. (55).

• William (24), Melissa (24), Will & Izzy (6), MayaLou (4).

• Yollie (24), TG (25), Liset (10), Yo-Yo (6), Hank (5), Ivanika (4).

• Wizard (22), Dreamer (20), Wanda (61).

• Lucas (20), Lylah and Lohla (19).

• Theo (19), Nary (19), Marie (about 81).

• Mathias (18), Kashmira (18).

• Reese (16), Winnie (14).

• Maddy (10)

• Stu McKenzie (50), Momaka (46), Petro (4).

• Cassie (the ghost).

• Other Family: Charlie Stookenhap, Sheila Enderby, Stanley Vincent.

• Valkyries: Palesa

**Afterlife Characters**

• Arthur, Paula, Lillian, and Joe-Joe.

• The Rat, Meghan, Firewall Freddie, Focus Test, Ante Up, and Lord Percy.

**Other Characters**

• Cattlemen: Llewellen Paup, Knute Krakul, and Bausch (Boss) Schnappe.

• Supreme Court: Justice Chauncey Vaughn (Stinky), Justice Thadeus Stretch, Justice Pinkney Phatsew, Lina Langevin, and Justin Justice.

This page is to help you if you get confused about who is who in the story. If that happens, click your way back to the Table of Contents and scroll back one page.

# Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Books in the Wilizy Series

About the Author: David J. Wighton

# Chapter 1

Welcome to a certain sulfur-free apartment of love and understanding in the depths of SinSin-atti, Hell. As my readers will likely recall, at the end of _Lock Up Your Cornstarch_ , Arthur had invited Winnie to take advantage of an unexpected free one way trip home. You may probably think of him as being a generous and thoughtful tour guide. Winnie's response was akin to having a rumbling chainsaw in her hands and an intense curiosity to see how quickly it could cut through Arthurian flesh. Here's the conversation from the previous book for you to reread in case you've forgotten. Winnie was speaking.

"How are you going to get me into that coffin, Arthur?"

Arthur rose, Winnie remained sitting. He approached.

"Don't you dare touch me with that hand, Arthur!"

Paula's face had been ping-ponging left and right as Winnie's and Arthur's conversation had sped from AnimoCity, Hell's eastern-most city, to Pugnacity, Hell's western-most city and back. Something about this argument reminded Paula of her mortal life when she had to referee the twins' frequent arguments. She reacted as any mother would do.

"Stop it, both of you!" she ordered. "Winnie, go to your office! Arthur, go into the bedroom. Don't either of you come out until I tell you to!"

Both Arthur and Winnie were stunned at the outburst. Obviously, Paula had made a quick trip to Hell's northern-most city, FeroCity.

"Well? What are the two of you waiting for? Hell to freeze over?"

### # # # # # # # #

As she had done with her twins, Paula talked with Arthur and Winnie separately, asking questions and collecting information. In part, she did this so that each of them could vent to her and cool down. She was also searching for solutions. My readers may now assume that Paula knows everything about the time that Arthur and Winnie's spent together on Earth bedeviling demons.

Obviously, the Paula, Winnie and Arthur team could not continue like this. Not communicating with each other was bad enough, but now, with Rat fired from his job, they had no workable plan to steer Rat to Earth and they had no plan for Winnie and Arthur to escape if they were somehow discovered. Paula left each of them alone with a question to answer. _How can the three of us become a smoothly functioning, collaborating team?_ Meanwhile, she sat down to mull.

### # # # # # # # #

_Arthur has become abnormally protective towards Winnie. Why?_

_..._

_Answer: Because he has become physically attracted to her. They spent weeks together in mortal bodies. According to Joe-Joe, Arthur's new mortal body is fully functional. That means he has male hormones and he has no idea what those hormones are doing to him or how to deal with them._

_..._

_Winnie is attracted to Arthur too. She needed him for a hug. They cuddled. They fell asleep together. That means two hormone-laden teenagers have to work together deep undercover in Hell under the fear of being discovered. This is a disaster waiting to happen. What were Lillian and Joe-Joe thinking when they put them together like this?_

_...._

_Answer. They put me on the team. My role in communicating back to Heaven was a secondary reason for my inclusion. First and foremost, I'm here to manage these two._

_..._

_They may be hormone-laden, but they are scared. I have to remember that I'm under no stress like they are. I can leave Hell any time I want without being detected. They can't._

_..._

_Telling them not to be scared won't work. How do I take the threat of constant danger off them and get them to start co-operating and communicating?_

_..._

_I could lie._

_..._

_How do I stop Winnie from seeing the lie on my face?_

_..._

_She can't see my face if I don't have one._

_..._

_Can I get away with two lies?_

### # # # # # # # #

Paula opened the office door and peeked in. Winnie was sitting at the computer desk, her eyes focused on her computer. She looked up to see Paula holding up a handwritten sign.

DON'T SAY ANYTHING. CAN YOU LOCK THE APARTMENT DOOR SO THAT NOBODY CAN ENTER?

Winnie nodded.

Paula switched signs. DO IT, AND THEN COME INTO THE LIVING ROOM. DON'T MAKE A SOUND.

Paula opened the bedroom door to see Arthur's angelic body suspended upside down from the light fixture in the middle of the room. He saw her looking at him and quickly unhooked himself. "I was trying to think," he said lamely.

Paula raised the sign she had for him. COME INTO THE LIVING ROOM. DON'T MAKE A SOUND.

When both of them were there, she revealed the rest of her signs:

ARTHUR AND WINNIE: CONVERT TO YOUR SHOULDER DEMON BODIES AND STAY IN THEM UNTIL WE RETURN.

I'LL BE IN MY SOUL BODY.

ARTHUR, TAKE US TO HELL'S FIRST TORTURE PIT.

### # # # # # # # #

Paula: _This torture pit area is an electronic dead zone, right Arthur?_

Arthur: _Yes._

Paula: _So, there's no chance of any hidden electronic surveillance system hearing anything we might say while we're here. Right?_

Winnie: _Yes. I can confirm that Hell's surveillance system does not extend to here_.

Paula: _And nobody could have followed the two of you because you flew here in shoulder demon bodies. I couldn't be followed either in my soul body._

Arthur: _I don't see how we could have been followed._

Paula: _Winnie, you scan the apartment for surveillance devices daily, right?_

Winnie: _It's an automated constant sweep. I'd know immediately if a new listening device were installed in the apartment. The scanner found Rat's surveillance cameras._

Paula: _What if we were intended to find the cameras in the apartment?_

Winnie: _Why would anybody intend that?_

Paula: _What if we were intended to find those cameras so that we wouldn't look any further?_

Winnie: _What do you mean look further? You mean outside the apartment walls?_ _Nothing from the outside could scan through those walls._

Paula: _Not that kind of further. I meant what if they didn't want us to look for a different kind of surveillance. Something that wasn't electronic._

Winnie: _What surveillance wouldn't be electronic?_

Paula: _Something in a body._

Winnie: _I don't get it._

Arthur: _I don't either._

Paula: _Your advanced angel bodies can teleport through walls. What if Hell has created a similar advanced devil body that is top secret? What if we have been watched by an invisible devil who can enter and leave Rat's secret apartment without us knowing?_

Winnie: _Why would you believe that?_

Arthur: _Yeah, there's no evidence that an advanced invisible devil has been watching us._

Paula: _Yes, there is._

Winnie: _What evidence?_

Paula: _When the two of you were provoking the BC shoulder demons, you did that by sending them emotional thoughts, right?_

Winnie: _Yes._

Paula: _Did the demons even suspect that some invisible heavenly agent was playing with their emotions?_

Arthur: _No. They had no reason to suspect that. Our bodies were secret. Nobody could have warned them_.

Paula: _Winnie, have you noticed that you have been angry at Arthur a lot recently?_

Winnie: _I had reasons to be angry._

Paula: _Arthur, have you noticed that you have been angry at Winnie a lot recently?_

Arthur: _I had reasons too._

Paula: _Arthur, Winnie was upset because you were investigating on your own without involving her. Where did you get the idea to do that?_

Arthur: _I dunno where it came from. I just thought it would be a good idea._

Paula: _Before you came to Hell, were you working effectively as a team with Winnie?_

Arthur: _Yes._

Paula: _But you're not working as a team now. And the reason you're not working as a team is because somehow you got the idea to go out on your own and ignore Winnie. You ignored me as well. Why did you do that? We're supposed to be a team._

Arthur: _I don't know._

Paula: _I believe I know. I think something has been attacking us with emotions. Winnie hasn't been operating as a team member either. Nor have I. That something has been provoking the three of us to fight each other in exactly the same way that you and Winnie provoked those BC demons to fight each other._

Winnie: _How would you prove that, Paula?_

Paula: _We don't have to prove it. What we have to do is design a defense plan to prevent any such emotional attacks from succeeding._

Arthur: _So you want us to assume that we're under attack and take countermeasures to stop them from succeeding._

Paula: _Exactly. Winnie, what do you think?_

Winnie: _What countermeasures would we take?_

Paula: First, _we should come to this electronic dead spot regularly and share any emotional messages that they might be sending us. We could help each other cope with the attacks if they were upsetting us._

Winnie: _We could come here as part of our overall operational planning. There's no way we could be overheard here and we could relax more._

Arthur: _And nobody could follow us here if Winnie and I always came as shoulder demons._

Paula: _Good idea._

Winnie: _OK, I get it. Emotional attacks that were designed to make us fight each other can be countered if we just share those messages with each other. But what if they weren't sending only hate messages? What if they were sending us images of what was going to happen to us if we can't escape from Hell when we're done?_

Paula: _Have you been getting those kinds of fear images, Winnie?_

Winnie: _Yes. I thought they were normal reactions to the stress we're under._

Arthur: _I'm seeing fear images too, except I see images of what could happen to Winnie. Rat won't ever let her go. Now that he's not working for the SSEC, he doesn't need Winnie to work on Firewall's technology. Any day now, he'll smuggle her back to his cave and force her to have sex with him in his weird bedroom. He wants her to be the mother of his children. Those images have been driving me crazy._

Winnie: _He can't force me into that bedroom, Arthur. Joe-Joe gave me additional weapons._

Paula: _Arthur, if I were a devil that could attack your emotions, I would certainly be sending you images of Rat with Winnie. Whether Rat's fantasy happens or not, either way, I have a solution. We won't be caught in Hell, no matter what Rat wants or does._

Winnie: _The chances of us getting caught leaving Hell are real if we can't arrange for a coffin ride, Paula. How are you going stop us from thinking about that?_

Paula: _Joe-Joe told me about something we could do if we had an emergency and had to escape fast._

Arthur: _Why wasn't I told about that?_

Paula: _It's top secret. Nobody is supposed to know. Angels might die if any of this leaks out._

Winnie: _So how do we escape from Hell if we can't use a coffin?_

Paula: _I don't know. Joe-Joe wouldn't tell me. He just said that there was another way out of Hell if we absolutely needed to use it. If that happens, the two of you are supposed to hide while I go to Heaven and get instructions._

Arthur: _Joe-Joe wouldn't lie about a secret escape route._

Winnie: _Lillian would have told him to hold that information back so that we wouldn't take chances._

Paula: _So... are we agreed that we will meet here regularly and talk about any emotional attacks that we're sensing before working on our plan?_

Winnie: _I agree to meet together regularly. Rat has lost his job with the SSEC and that will make him vulnerable. We can take advantage of that. Plus, Meghan is pretending to be a useless secretary, but she's not. We might be able to use her somehow._

Arthur: _I agree with meeting regularly too. I can add some things about Meghan that Winnie doesn't know._

[Narrator: A reminder to my readers that Paula was in her invisible soul body during this discussion. That meant that Winnie's skills as a lie detector were useless. Moreover, neither Arthur nor Winnie could see Paula's broad smile as she listened to them sharing information about Meghan that they never would have done before this meeting. Sometimes, parents have to be creative in what they tell their teenagers. Mind you, of the two lies that Paula told, only one would turn out to be a lie.]

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 2

Meghan was helping Rat pack up some of the contents of his office. That help included some technical assistance.

"Show me again how to copy files to the swamp."

Meghan loaded a file and demonstrated the process. While he wrote her instructions on a file card, she stood deferentially by the side of his desk, eyes downcast. She turned her head slightly so that she could catch a glimpse of Rat's tail in her peripheral vision.

"Pack up all of the office supplies from the storeroom, label the boxes _Personal Possessions_ , and have them couriered to the cave. Wrap my trophies in your smocks and pack them carefully in a trophy box. Include my Wall of Shame plaque too. I'll carry the trophy box home myself."

"Yes, Sir. Is that all, Sir?"

"Satan approved my request for a reassignment. I'll be free to conduct my medical research full time. I have a new project as well."

Rat's unemployed secretary risked another peek out of the corner of her eye. Her boss' voice was calm but his rigid tail revealed his seething anger.

"I have some things in mind for you too." Rat's words hung frozen in the air, which was quite the feat in red-hot Hell.

### # # # # # # # #

_Narrator Interlude._

_Some background may be in order on how Hell provides extra sincentives for its executive class devils._

_Since centuries of inflicting torment on mortals can lead to complacency, Satan keeps his troops' sincentive high through a variety of status symbols, for example large bodies, thick horns, jeweled awards, and great wealth. However, Hell's salary benefits are also very effective._

_The higher one's salary, the more holidays a devil accumulates. Holidays are spent on Earth. Most young devils have to live a 'chaste' life in Hell since they are too poor to own souls that they can torture personally. As a result, going to Earth for a holiday can release a lot of pent-up evil in the form of personal one-on-one tortures._

_With wealth comes authorization for a personal stable of souls. The higher the devil's salary, and the higher he is in the hornocracy, the sooner he can start acquiring souls for personal pleasure as well as for help in running his business._

_The most powerful devils receive the ultimate sincentive - a spawning certificate. Permission to impregnate one human is given each time a devil receives a gem-level award. Normally, such awards require centuries of successful evil-dispersal so only the most powerful devils are permitted to start a family of their own. Most devils choose to impregnate their selected mortal on Earth and then watch with pride as the offspring wrecks havoc on Earth. After its mortal death, the spawn will descend to Hell and assume a position within the family business._

_Rat was too impatient to wait that long. He figured if his spawn were born in Hell, they could skip the living-on-Earth stage altogether and go to work in the family business immediately. With twelve gem awards to his credit, Rat was planning a large family. Patsy Phew was young, plus she knew how to program. What could be better?_

### # # # # # # # #

While his secretary was filching the SSEC office supplies, Rat paced back and forth, listening to the thumps of heavy boxes being piled atop each other in the storeroom. When he heard the courier's voice ask "Is that all of them?" he cradled his box of trophies and climbed the winding iron staircase for the last time.

They were home in time for lunch. Rat wasn't particular hungry, at least not for food. Hearing the courier's voice in the storeroom had supplied the answer to his quandary of what he would do that afternoon. He had Meghan prepare two bowls of green bean soup and place both of them on the table. When she finished one bowl, he motioned her to finish the second. When she started to rise, Rat's hand stopped her. He took an empty bowl to the stove himself, filled it, and waited impatiently while she forced down her third helping of green bean soup.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat escorted Meghan into the hobby room and scuttled off to his lab. Within minutes, he was back with a large stack of well-thumbed biker/babe magazines, an atomizer, two small glass bottles, and a wooden chair. Setting the chair and magazines in front of a padded wall, he brandished the bottles. "This bottle has the perfume's vomiter; this has the convulser." He poured the contents of the first bottle into the atomizer, which he handed to Meghan. He then made himself comfortable by balancing the chair on its rear legs and leaning back against the wall. "Two squirts behind each ear," he instructed coldly.

There was nothing scientific, or hesitant, about Rat that afternoon. He'd squirt her with the vomiter, wait until she had recovered, and squirt again. The only thing he said during this stage was, "You've been pretending to be too tired from the vomiter to work. You've been dogging it for two months."

When the vomiter was gone, he shifted to the convulser. Now, the interrogation began. "The cot in the storeroom was unnecessary. You used it as an excuse to be above the air vent so that you could eavesdrop on my business."

....

"I could hear your conversation with the courier. That means you could hear my conversation with the bank inspector." He leaned forward to position the atomizer in front of her face, but was momentarily balked by her trembling hand trying to push it away.

"No, I was... getting Firewall's package... ready."

...

"What did you hear the bank inspector say?" He aimed the atomizer.

"Nothing ... took all my time to prepare ... the package."

Rat put the atomizer in front of her face and waited.

"Heard nothing... I wanted to listen... not enough time..."

...

"What did you hear the bank inspector say?"

"Nothing... I was at... my desk." She raised her face so that the mist would strike her squarely and waited.

"I know you've been eavesdropping. What have you heard?"

"Just the SSEC problems."

Rat leaned over, pinched her nostrils, and jammed the atomizer nozzle in her mouth. He waited until she was almost asphyxiated, before letting her breathe.

"Firewall ... he brought you that computer woman... she's hidden somewhere... that's all I know."

Rat stomped her in the abdomen to remind her that nobody sneaks up on The Rat.

### # # # # # # # #

Paula: _I am going summarize so that we all know what decisions we've made here. First, Winnie will be in charge of developing the plan to push Rat to Earth. To help Arthur feel better about her safety, she will program the hornocratic camera network so that she'll always be able to find where Rat is immediately. She will set up a surveillance system inside Rat's cave. Some time in the next couple of days, Rat will try to take her back to his cave. Winnie already has a plan for that. Did I remember everything, Winnie?_

Winnie: _Yes, but don't forget that I need Wilizy drones for Rat's cave._

Paula: _Right. That takes me to my duties. I will coordinate our meetings and serve as an information conduit to Earth and to Heaven. As part of that, I will find your carton of drones on the upper shelf of your bedroom and bring them to Hell. Arthur is in charge of de-stabilizing Rat and Firewall even further. Starting soon, right Arthur?_

Arthur: _Yes. First, I have to find Firewall._

Winnie: _I'll set up a software program to track Firewall._

Paula: _I believe that's it. Any one of us can call a meeting for planning or for de-stressing here in this dead zone. Wait. I keep forgetting to ask you this. Winnie, who did Lucas marry? Lylah or Lohla?_

Winnie: _He married both of them but in separate ceremonies. He was looking very tired the last time I saw him._

Paula: _And so he should._

Arthur: _I don't get it._

### # # # # # # # #

Meghan regained consciousness to find herself alone in the hobby room. A pail of green bean soup and a mop were by the door. Every muscle protested as she crawled to the door and used the mop handle to haul herself erect. Hunched over by the pain in her abdomen, she started washing the vomit off the vinyl-covered padding.

Rat came to get her shortly after 5 pm - his hands empty. He handed her a clean smock and smirked as she struggled to raise her arms high enough to slip it on. Turning on his heel, he crossed the hallway and entered the workroom. Meghan followed behind.

"I plan to open Hell's first Rat*Mart outlet in three months. You're going to ensure that we meet that deadline. This is your workstation. Sit here!"

Meghan hobbled over to the computer chair and eased into its soft, gentle embrace. A computer-generated picture was propped up against her monitor. The picture was a screen shot from a hornographic camera with its twelve-digit location ID bannered across the top. She froze for a second and then looked up at the yellow grin of her master.

"I've shown you this before. Remember what I can do if I become unhappy with you. I can't afford to have you wasting hours of productive time in the evenings so I've discontinued your testing of the vomiter. That camera will monitor everything you do." A ladder, a power drill sitting in a mess of wood shavings on the floor, and a lopsided camera high on the wall by the door revealed what Rat had been doing while she had been unconscious.

"By necessity, you will be intimately involved in the inner workings of Rat*Mart. Its success will depend, in part, on you. I won't have you jeopardizing Rat*Mart with laziness or with any other passive resistance tactics. You will work to the fullest of your capabilities or the person in that picture will feel the brunt of my displeasure." Meghan glanced at the picture leaning against her monitor and nodded.

Rat frisbeed a clipboard at her. "The top two sheets list your tasks for today."

Meghan picked up the hornographic camera picture, folded it in two, and placed it under a bundle of paperwork. Only then did she look at the clipboard.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 3

While events in the underworld are developing, let's take a look at what's happening in the Wilizy cadet camp in Montana.

To remind you of the events after the battle with The Demented was over, Mac, Nary and Sheila was now the cadet camp. Lina Langevin was in the women's prison. Stook and Stu extracted six women from the prison who we have referred to as _The Innocents_. Stook and Sheila disappeared for a couple of days into Akilah's clinic which she had transformed into a honeymoon suite, complete with a sign on the outside door proclaiming _Clinic closed until further notice._

As to the six Innocents that Stook and Stu brought to camp, they were met by five other Innocents who had witnessed the battle with The Demented and had been brought back to the camp in the transport copter carrying the cadets. The cadets erected a small tent city for them where they could stay until the Sacramento election was over. Mac and Nary gave them a guided tour of the camp, such as it was. For the next couple of days, Nary kept them busy watching the cadets train and going for local excursions. When their time permitted, Lylah and Lohla participated as well. Naturally, The Innocents talked among themselves and those who had been slated to be human explosives shared what they had seen during the battle.

### # # # # # # # #

"You've all indicated to Hank that you'd be willing to help with the planning for our next operation. I thought that we could use this Saturday to get ourselves up to speed."

The person speaking was Melissa and she would be the strategist for the Wilizy's next operation, as you would expect. This operation would not be a battle in the military sense of the word, so Mac was not present, leaving her free to mingle with The Innocents. Their next operation would be a battle in a different way.

Melissa, Stu, Wizard and Dreamer were the planning team. Melissa called on Wizard and Dreamer to report on what they had found in their search for financial evidence of the DCA's involvement in Stook's and Sheila's forced arrest, sham trial, and secret imprisonment.

Dreamer started their report. "You'll remember that Reese reviewed the colours of the members of the Supreme Court, the top officials in the Ministry of Justice, and the remaining members of the DCA. Melissa wanted Wiz and me to focus strictly on the DCA threats for now, so we'll restrict our report to just them."

"There's one dangerous man in particular that we have to watch. His name is Bausch Schnappe and Reese said that he would not hesitate to use violence including murder if he were threatened. Reese identified two other DCA members that had bad colours and are dangerous. They will fight to protect their power and wealth. They may not become murderous themselves, but they'd look the other way if somebody else chose to kill a threat."

Wizard took over. "We gave the three cattlemen names to Sandy at the SGG and she gave us access to their bank records. It took us only an hour to establish that these men were behind the fake contributions to Stook's campaign account. We have a lot more investigating to do to lock things down, but for an initial report, these men are definitely implicated. We may not be able to use the information in court. The DCA men have all of their wealth tied up in their ranches and in what other businesses that they run in addition to cattle. I doubt very much that we could prove anything without having access to all of their account books and seeing all of the paperwork. I don't see us getting that information legally."

"It's still useful from our own perspective in terms of giving us solid justification in going after them," Melissa added. "None of what we are going to find or do in this operation will appear in court because there'll never be a guilty verdict. Any charges that we bring against them will end up in the Supreme Court, which will rule that the accused men are innocent of all charges. Carry on, Wiz."

"We found large cash infusions into the bank accounts of three Supreme Court justices that we had previously identified as dangerous. These deposits were made at about the same time as Stook was being tried. No way of proving anything, of course."

Bean took over. "We looked at the bank account of the Director of the Ministry of Justice. Reese identified him as the worst of all of the people directly or indirectly involved in the trials. He has a very strange name: Justin Justice. Easy to remember, I suppose. Again, we saw cash infusions. His bank account shows wealth that goes well beyond what his government salary would provide."

"Thanks, Wiz," Melissa said. "On to strategy now. I've been reading about what happens when businesses become too dominant in a particular industry or region. Governments have a way to reduce their influence so that other businesses can be competitive. Does anybody here know about anti-trust laws?"

Stu raised his hand. "They're also known as competition laws. They might work here but as soon as the law is challenged in court, the crooked Supreme Court will rule them unconstitutional."

"You're right, Stu. Nevertheless, would you look into this for Colorado? The question I'd like you to answer is: What kind of legislation should the government have in place to successfully win an anti-trust case at the Supreme Court? Create the outlines of that legislation and give it to Stook. He'll put some of his government people onto it."

"He's up to speed on your plan?"

"I spoke with Stook and Sheila the other day at lunch. He knows only the part where the legislature needs to act. We'll leave him in the dark on everything else."

"So that he can claim quite honestly that he knows nothing," Stu observed.

"I think Stook would have some ethical difficulties if he were aware of other elements of our plan. They're not exactly... "

"Legal?" Stu suggested.

"You could say that. Dreamer, here's your assignment. We need an overview of all of the many business of the three DCA men and where they are located. Any idea of which of those businesses might be struggling would be helpful. Wiz, I'd like you to answer this question: What would be the impact of anti-trust laws on the three DCA crooks assuming that we are able to take the Supreme Court out of the picture? If you want to exchange assignments with Dreamer, I don't mind."

"We'll talk about it. Is there a legal way to force a change in the composition of the Supreme Court?"

"Probably not," Stu replied. "How long do we have to complete the research?"

"I need your research quickly, Stu. Dig into it deeply enough that Stook and other legislators can understand the concept. Stook will need to sell the idea. He said that his people in the Ministry of Economic Development would flesh out the legislation."

"And the timing for the two of us?"

"Both of you can spend more time on the assignments, Wiz. We're looking for business weaknesses. Don't stop until you find some."

"And what do you need from me?" William asked.

"Still on the idea of finding business weaknesses, let's put drones into the homes and businesses of the three DCA men. Start collecting data from after the government imposed the back taxes. We also are looking for personal weaknesses. Are any of these men having affairs that we can exploit, for example? Also can we put a drone into the office and homes of the Director of the Ministry of Justice and the three dirty Supremes?"

### # # # # # # # #

Stook and Sheila emerged from the clinic on the weekend of March 23/24. They had socialized with the adults during meals and Sheila got to meet everybody. Between meals, they had disappeared back into the clinic. Nobody asked what they were doing there. Had somebody been brazen enough to open up the topic, their answer would have been _personnel research_. My readers may choose to believe that or not.

### # # # # # # # #

Sunday evening, Mac brought the eleven _Innocents_ into the mess hall for a meeting. Sufficient chairs had already been arranged in a circle for them and for Nary, Lylah and Lohla who had been helping to entertain them. Also present in the mess hall, but sitting separately, were Granny, Yolanda, Wanda, Melissa, Yollie, Dreamer, Marie, Momaka, Bean, Maddy, and Liset. My readers may notice a theme here.

Mac began. "I think all of you know this, but I'll tell you just in case you aren't fully aware. Pancha Villa is now the mayor of Sacramento. She campaigned on a platform of brown supremacy and on the danger of having white people living in the city. We know that Villa had intended to win the election in the final days by having white terrorists murder innocent civilians. You were to be part of that terrorist attack either before the election or after it."

"I think you all know that those terrorist attacks never happened. The men were returned, alive, to their prison in the Mojave Desert. They were simply pawns to be used and killed by Sacramento's sheriff's department. You eleven would murder innocent men, women and children with suicide vests, although you would not actually be alive at the time. Some of you saw the battle in Palo Verde Valley where we prevented all of the mayor's planned murders. Unfortunately, we couldn't prevent her from being elected."

"Our organization is called the Wilizy, so named from our two founders, Will and Izzy. Seated behind you are some of our members. All of these women were involved in some way in our operation to rescue you and prevent Villa's terrorism. They have also been involved in numerous other operations. We wanted you to see them before you leave. With the election over, Nary and I can take you back to California now. We wouldn't recommend that you return to Sacramento. You were arrested once on trumped up charges; you'll be arrested again. This time, the sheriff's department may kill you for resisting arrest."

"Why are they doing this?" This question came from Palesa who was the natural leader of the group.

"Sacramento is now a brown supremacist city. In order to convince the citizens who don't believe in discrimination by colour, the city will remove any white woman who shows a different image than what city leaders want the public to see. White prostitutes and white drug dealers will remain on the streets where the public can see them and shake their heads in disgust. You eleven can't return to Sacramento. You're showing an entirely different image of a white woman than what they want."

"Can we go to other parts of California?" Palesa again.

"Pancha Villa has eyes on the governorship. She's wealthy enough, and ruthless enough, to get there. You won't be safe anywhere in California for long."

"Our families have been in California for generations. We don't have anywhere else to go."

"Well, yes you do."

...

Mac talked to them about the possibility of the cadet camp being expanded to include a female troop. Not a troop of young girls. They were a troop of young women with diverse skills, all of them athletic and willing to learn military and other skills. All of these recruits would be passionate about righting wrongs. Mac told them that the Wilizy would build a women's residence, along with a complete recreational facility for the camp as a whole. She also described the military training they would receive.

"Will you give us jet packs?" Palesa asked.

"Definitely."

"Who would be in charge? A man?"

"Major Vincent is in charge of all cadet instructional programs. We'll change his title so that it covers both you and cadets. He has already raised his concern about our lack of a female presence in this camp. He'll be supportive."

"Who's in charge of Major Vincent?"

"I am," Mac answered. "Think about joining us. If any of you are not interested, we'll take you to wherever you want to go to start over, excluding Sacramento. Feel free to talk with any woman here. Some refreshments are coming. Mingle, ask questions. If you join us, we'll want a long-term commitment. I need an answer by Tuesday evening."

### # # # # # # # #

On Monday, March 25, Charlie Stookenhap walked into the governor's mansion, smiled and shook hands with surprised well-wishers, entered the Lieutenant-Governor's office and shut the door. "Harry, thank you so much for filling in for me. Sorry that I couldn't give you any warning. I'm healthy again and I'm ready to resume my duties. We need to talk."

Since the Ministry of Justice had insisted publicly that the governor was simply on a leave of absence, they could hardly prevent him from resuming his governorship after his healthy return from that leave.

### # # # # # # # #

On Tuesday, all eleven of The Innocents decided to join the Wilizy cadets. Most of them asked if they could invite a few Californian friends or family to join them. The Wilizy capped the recruitment at thirty. A camp construction blitz would follow. As you know, Lucas had had a dream for military corp that would eventually become the _Guardian Angels_. Mac had had a dream too.

### # # # # # # # #

On Wednesday March 27, Lina Langevin returned to her job as court recorder after her brief medical leave. Greeting co-workers by name, she entered her little office and settled down to work. She had a minor backlog waiting for her but quickly got through that.

To explain: Lina's request for a medical leave earlier that month had been sent from her computer, which had developed a mind of its own. During that leave, Stook and Sheila really had been engaged in personnel research while they were in the clinic. In military terms, Sheila's presence in the Justice building is known as an infiltration. The villains in the Ministry of Justice had recognized that Lina Langevin looked remarkably similar to Sheila and had acted on that observation to have Lina impersonate Sheila. They were completely blind to the fact Sheila looked remarkably like Lina and could impersonate her.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 4

"All that glisters is not worth picking up!" (Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Draft #1)

_[Narrator Interlude: I appreciate that not all of my readers will be aware of the 'Merchant of Venice,' let alone know who Shakespeare was. Shakespeare was a famous English playwright who wrote in 1596 that 'All that glisters is not gold.' This expression is like saying that not everything that looks to be precious turns out to be precious. Well, in an early draft of this play, Shakespeare had written, 'All that glisters is not worth picking up.' Trust me on this. I can time-travel. Today in Hell, Shakespeare's early draft of this famous saying will turn out to be correct.]_

Rat was in a good mood this Wednesday morning. He was on his way to the apartment to relocate Miss Patsy to the cave. Meghan had cleaned the bedroom earlier that morning. The lime green duvet on the queen sized bed looked perfect as did the shocking pink and lime green area rug that was identical to the one in Miss Patsy's apartment. He was carrying a perfume spray bottle with a weak version of the convulser that would incapacitate her long enough for Rat to stuff her into the coffin and lock it. After that, a hired transport would bring her to her new home.

Winnie had watched the preparations. She now had drones in every room in Rat's cave and several drones watching the exterior and the sewer leading up to it.

Rat tried to control his emotions as he made his way through some back sewers leading to the apartment. The glistening 1000-T coin was sitting there, a step inside an alcove off the deserted sewer. It was only natural for Rat to turn into the alcove, lean over, and pick it up. The coin was glued to the ground.

The next thing he knew, Rat was struggling to remove the two hands that were keeping his nose and mouth submerged in a pool of sludge. The heavy body owning those two hands was too strong for Rat's feeble, wizened body to match.

The hands lifted his head out of the muck and Rat inhaled, choking, fighting for breath. The assailant's head leaned closer, whispering, "Lie still, don't make a sound, and I'll let you breathe." One more dip into the gunk tank convinced the Rat. He stopped struggling against the more powerful mugger, whose full weight was crushing Rat's upper body into the ground. He felt something moist slip over his horns.

"I'll just sit here until everything dries."

Then... "Hey, you there!" The sound of running hooves followed the hail.

Rat's assailant jumped up, ripped something off Rat's horns, and fled.

One pair of running feet stopped and entered the alcove. The second pair pattered on and faded away.

Two powerful hands lifted Rat and set him upright. He looked up at his rescuer and saw a large circular facemask - light beige in color. The mask had two round eyeholes, a stub of a nose, and a wide, happy curve of a smile. A muffled voice came through the slit in the mask where the mouth should be. "What happened?" the Jack-in-the-Box constable asked.

Rat described the mugging, the threat, and the moist something that had been put on his horns. According to the constable, the assailant was probably trying to make a cast of his horns with some fast drying plaster of Paris. Did Rat have a horn-pustule reader as part of an important security system?

Rat was reassured to hear that the casting would almost certainly have been ruined when his assailant had to yank it off his horns prematurely. However, he was not reassured to hear that a properly completed mold could be used to create counterfeit horns that would fool a security system.

The second half of the patrol returned at this point \- unsuccessful in his pursuit. The second patrol devil wore a light beige facemask as well. This one had a big red clown's nose pasted to the mask with eyeholes and a smiling gap for the mouth. A red wig was fastened securely to the constable's head. His one piece uniform was bright yellow with red slits where the pocket slits were. Underneath, he was wearing a red and white striped shirt and a similarly coloured pair of long stockings. His truncheon was grasped securely in one of his yellow gloves. On his feet was a pair of red plastic clogs. "Quick for a stocky devil," the Ronnie McDonald constable said. "We'll keep an eye open for him, but he has probably demolished the ruined casting by now. He may still have the plaster of Paris bag though."

### # # # # # # # #

_Narrator Interlude: Hell's internal security depended on the omnipresent cameras covering all of Hell's public spaces. But cameras could only do so much. They still needed 'boots on the ground,' which in this case meant 'hooves in the yuck.' The problem for Hell was that no devil would willingly agree to be a member of Hell's internal security personnel._

_Remember that devils were genetically programmed to be evil. They didn't come with a switch to flip when they were off duty. They were evil all the time. Being evil was expected. Devils who weren't sufficiently evil were mocked and ridiculed. In that environment, what devil would ever agree to become a police constable whose job was making sure that laws were obeyed?_

_The answer? Devils who couldn't cut it in Hell's afterlife society would agree. They were evil enough to get sent to Hell, and they were evil enough to rise out of the torture pits. But, when it came time to torture for ever and ever and ever, well, they couldn't do that._

_That meant that the ranks of the con &stab-ulary were filled with the lazy, the old, and the incompetent. They were still evil, but they were not working all that hard at their craft. They didn't aspire to be members of the con&stab-ulary, they were pushed into the job by supervisors who couldn't put up with them any longer in their other positions in the sindustry._

_Getting the mini-evils into the job was one thing; having them afterlive beyond the first day on the job was another thing. That why members of the con &stab-ulary were disguised as mascots for Hell's McDonald's and Jack-in-the-Box fast food outlets. With these costumes, nobody knew who they were. Again, this was a clever marketing agreement. The two fast food establishments [unknowingly] covered the cost of the costumes in exchange for an exclusive presence in Hell's food courts. In exchange for taking on the risk of being associated with forces for good, members of the internal security forces could sleep in the back rooms of the restaurants and could eat all they wanted for free. Before you scoff at this paltry benefit, remember that the alternative food for the down and out was green bean soup._

_You may be wondering about the reference to 'con &stab-ulary' forces. The 'con' part of the name was because the security forces were paid minimum wage. Free food and free accommodation didn't take care of all of their needs. They needed to con hellizens into making additional donations to the security forces. In other words, they needed to extort bribes. That meant that the security forces were corrupt. If this surprises you, then you haven't grasped the fundamental premise for the existence of Hell. The 'stab' part was because the security forces were the only devils in Hell who could carry weapons which, in their case, were ice picks that could slide into the tiny spaces between scales._

### # # # # # # # #

"Got them!" Arthur flashed his two small prizes before ducking into the kitchen.

"Did he notice?" Winnie asked but kept her attention on her screen.

"Not during the struggle. He'll notice later. By the way, I stomped on the perfume atomizer on my out of the sewer."

"I saw. I get to live another day in the apartment." Winnie heard the freezer door open and close. "What if he suspects the attack was to snitch some of his DNA scales?"

"He'll think that they were dislodged during the struggle. Besides, it doesn't matter. He'll be more wary now about venturing out of his cave." Arthur entered Winnie's office, licking the Snoopy Vice Cream Bar in his left hand, the bar in his right hand to be deferred until it was soft enough to be really mushy. Hell did have ice cream. "Thanks for the head's up."

"The con&stab-ulary responded to the tip more quickly than I had expected." Winnie had used the security camera in that sewer to fine-tune the timing of the feint at Rat's horns. "Rat's almost home, Arthur."

On the screen, Rat was climbing the hill to his cave, head down, fatigued from his exertions in the sewer. He didn't raise his head until he was at his front stoop. Obviously, he hadn't noticed the hot pink and lime green circles adorning the front of his cave on his way out. Inside the smallest circle were two letters: _F F_

"Do you want the sound?"

"I think we can guess what he's saying."

"Did it take much prodding to get Firewall to play exterior decorator?"

"No, not much. He enjoyed putting his personal signature to his work."

Rat finished his tirade and shortly after he opened the door, Winnie's computer chimed - a warning that Rat's cave door had been opened. Arthur was adding another level of protection against Rat arriving unexpectedly at Winnie's apartment but that wouldn't be ready until next week. He finished the second vice-cream treat, strolled over to the leather couch, and plopped down. "Did you spread the news of Rat's firing on the message boards?"

"Uh huh. Plus, I re-circulated some of the rumours of Rat's hidden vault. I 've been thinking. Won't Rat become suspicious if he loses another DNA scale?"

"Yes, we'll have to wait a couple of weeks before taking the next one. However, we have lots of time. I put them in the half-empty carton of Popsicles in the freezer to keep them fresh."

"Was that a hint that we need more junk food? Should I... "A bell interrupted her question. "Firewall's on the move."

Arthur spotted the briefcase he was carrying. "Looks promising. I'll be in touch." He shimmered and was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, Arthur mind messaged, _Firewall is in the Media Manipulation Division building. His interview is with the director and she seems to be impressed so far._

Paula added her own comments. _I arrived with Firewall and have been exploring. There's only one vacant cubicle on the floor where Firewall could be assigned. I'm turning the cubicle's computer on now so that Winnie can take control of it._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 5

"Granny, Stook's announcement about the Colorado government's intention to create anti-trust legislation will be circulated to all media this morning. The announcement will specifically mention the names of the companies that will be investigated first. These will be the ranches owned by the three DCA men. Let us know what their reactions are."

"Does Stook still need to have the legislation approved by the government, Melissa?"

"Yes, but he has the necessary votes already. He'll push the key elements of the new laws through in the next couple of days. We don't want to give the DCA a chance to lobby against it. The Ministry of Economic Development's lawyers will follow with specific regulations, but these will be straight forward."

"What kind of reactions are you looking for?"

"The new law will allow the government to force the break up of any Coloradoan companies that have a near monopoly in any industry or business. We want to know if the three DCA ranchers react strongly to any of their suite of companies being split apart. If we know where their biggest concerns are, that will allow us to target them better."

"Got it."

"We also want to know if they are relieved about anything in the announcement that didn't appear. Something that they expected the government would do, but didn't. We've been spreading rumours about this legislation for the last two days, so they've had time to brace themselves. Who have you assigned to analyze the data coming from three DCA ranchers?"

"Hank and Yolanda. Doc and I are watching the three Supremes. Liset is watching the Director of the Ministry of Justice. I can't believe parents would name a child _Justin Justice_."

"I expect his name helped him. It has quite the ring to it. Yollie has a favour to ask. Can you have Liset watch Hank and Yolanda at work so that she can learn how to do this properly? Tell Liset to look for any hints of how the DCA is going to attack the legislation. These should be fairly obvious for her to spot."

"She can do that. It's not like she has to fill out one of those obsolete government income tax forms."

_[Granny's mention of income tax forms prompts the Narrator Interlude below.]_

### # # # # # # # #

_"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."_

_Well actually, that statement is not correct. A greater fury does exist. But to tell you what that fury is, I first have to talk about taxes._

_Hell has no taxes._

_That's right, there are no taxes. There are no sincome taxes, deferred sincome taxes, negative sincome taxes, or surplus sincome taxes even though devils do earn sincome. Nor are there any 'value-added taxes' - an artificial construct by earthly governments who just want more money and pretend somehow that value has been added by their unwelcome, clumsy involvement._

_There are no accumulated earnings taxes, arrival taxes, capital gains taxes, capital transfer taxes, carbon taxes, consumption taxes, death taxes, departure taxes, estate taxes, excess profit taxes, excise taxes, gasoline taxes, inheritance taxes, land taxes, payroll taxes, property taxes, real estate taxes, road taxes, sales taxes, severance taxes, Social Security taxes, stamp taxes, surtaxes, wealth taxes, or windfall profits taxes._

_[Whew. Time for a breath. Inhale.....]_

_There are no big taxes, no medium taxes, no small taxes, no direct taxes, no graduated taxes, no hidden taxes, no indirect taxes, no progressive taxes, no regressive taxes, no proportionate taxes, no withholding taxes, and no deferred taxes._

_Sounds heavenly, right? Well, in that sole respect, Hell resembles Heaven because taxes are solely a mortal phenomenon. Taxes are Earth's way of keeping accountants employed; they don't have any hope for gainful employment otherwise. Mind you, devils have helped mortals create the most convoluted and injurious systems possible, but taxes aren't present in Hell. You're probably wondering, 'Why?'_

_It's not that Satan isn't interested in more revenue - he has almost as much greed and self-interest as any mortal politician, which is saying a lot. But, Earth's tax systems are expensive, inefficient, and full of arcane rules to keep the system unintelligible. A better system exists - one in which unlimited amounts of money can be stolen under the guise of a service being provided. Nobody is exempt. There are no loopholes. Money is deducted at the source so you can't refuse to pay. They're called 'bank fees'._

_On Earth, bank fees provide a steady source of guaranteed profits. These fees not only allow banks to pay exorbitant salaries to their executives, but they provide income that will cover up their executives' costly mistakes - such as their naked grasps for power disguised as "getting bigger so we can serve you better." Only a banker's creativity and greed limit their use of mortal bank fees. As soon as one bank finds a new way to charge for an imagined service, the others jump on the fee-wagon. In contrast, the Bank of Hell restrains itself by applying only two bank fees._

_Does that sound good? Read on._

_For every tormentt_ entering _a devil's bank account, the Bank of Hell grabs 1% for itself. And, for every tormentt_ leaving _the account, the Bank of Hell grabs 1% for itself. These are shown on their bank statements as INTEREST fees. What that means is the bank was interested enough in your account to steal some of it._

_As the reader will appreciate, keeping one's afterlife savings safe from prying claws is difficult in Hell. Sales of piggy banks aren't a big source of revenue for local retailers. The 1000-T coins are big, unwieldy, and impossible to secrete in any large numbers. Do you think they were created that way by accident? So, devils have only one place to keep their money \- their Bank of Hell account. That reliance on the BoH to provide a safe storage area translates into the reason why the bank is able to charge NON-HANDLING FEES, as in fees that they charge you to ensure your money isn't handled by greedy claws._

_Only the two richest devils in Hell escape the BoH's silent, grasping fingers. Rat had enough wealth to build his own vault and install a near-perfect security system. The other devil kept his money in the Bank of Hell's vault. But, since it was his bank, he decided not to charge himself any fees._

_The real story of Satan's banishment from Heaven has been lost in the antiquities of time. An argument did lead to Satan creating Hell, but the argument was over a relatively innocuous administrative decision. A mortal banker by trade, Satan wanted to create and run a Bank of Heaven. His plan was turned down as being 'unsuitable for Heaven's goals.' Furious at being denied access to the untold wealth from Heaven's bank fees, Satan snatched some souls and started his own afterlife._

_So, does Hell have a fury greater than a woman scorned? The answer is Yes. A more accurate scorn warning would read: "Hell hath no fury greater than a banker denied his fees."_

### # # # # # # # #

Melissa is continuing to touch base with members of her committee.

"Stu, it looks like the anti-trust legislation will fly through without issues. Granny said that the DCA decided not to challenge the laws given that it was passed unanimously in the legislature. However, their lawyers will fight against any anti-trust charges that are laid against them."

"I've anticipated that. How soon will the law be drawn up and passed?"

"The Economic Development lawyers are not particularly fond of the DCA. They started working seven days a week after Stook dropped in and gave them a little speech. Passing it through the house will be a formality. It'll be two weeks before we can go any further."

"Two weeks is very fast for lawyers."

"We didn't want to give the DCA a lot of time to prepare."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 6

Rat's second attempt to abduct Miss Patsy came on the first Thursday in April. He hadn't been outside his cave since the attempt on his horns. This time, he planned to stick to the main sewers and he timed his trip so that he'd be in the morning rush hour traffic the whole time. He needn't have bothered.

The minute Rat stepped onto his stoop, more than a dozen devils lounging on the curbs near his cave straightened as one. News of Rat's resignation from the SSEC had spread rapidly through purgatory.net's message boards. Those messages prompted a re-circulation of the old rumours of his hoard of 1000-T coins stashed somewhere in his cave - the big one at the top of the hill on Septic Drive. Predatory devils had been lounging outside his cave for days and the crowd was growing. Rat turned, walked back into his cave, and instructed Meghan to do a bondoggle search for security guard companies.

### # # # # # # # #

By the afternoon, Meghan had completed her search for security guards and had sent off a few queries on prices. Now, she was looking at the list of duties that Rat was expecting her to perform in Rat*Mart. "Are you planning to connect these checkout cages to your inventory control software?" Meghan was standing next to the Rat*Mart security checkout boxes in Rat's upstairs office.

"Inventory control software?"

Meghan had to give Rat a long explanation of the inner workings of a large store and its essential functions: inventory counting, ordering, receiving, re-stocking, and pricing. On top of that, there were the office duties of invoicing, bill paying, and banking. Add cleaning and maintenance. When she had finished, Rat sat motionless, frowning. He had thought that she would do all of that.

"What about staff on the check-outs? Was I supposed to do that too?" She asked in careful neutral tone.

"No. Payment will be automated as soon as a devil walks into the check-out cage." _Cage_ was as good a word as any. After all, it was intended to confine the customer while a scanner determined what products he was trying to smuggle out of the store, read their prices, and charge the sale against the devil's bank account.

"Why don't you automate everything else too?"

### # # # # # # # #

By Thursday evening, Rat had made his decision. Initially, he had suspected that Meghan was trying to get out of work, but he changed his mind after hearing her long list of essential daily tasks. He mulled over the two options she had outlined.

Souls could do all the work. She had suggested a number. He had halved it, but it was still too high. The work was not onerous, so it couldn't count as torture. He'd have to spend a fortune on torture subcontractors.

Inventory control software was the second option. According to Meghan, mortal stores used them all the time. Software packages were commercially available, but expensive. She had said the software would pay for itself in the long run, but Rat figured that it would be a very long run.

However, Meghan had missed a third option. Why buy a commercial product when he had a software developer with not enough to do? He sent an e-mail to Miss Patsy asking if she could do the job. She replied that she could. Rat decided to wait until Rat*Mart's new software was up and running before consultant-napping her to his cave.

### # # # # # # # #

If you're ever in Hell at the end of a week, don't expect anybody to say _TGIF_.

Both the phrase _Thank God it's Friday_ and its acronym are on Hell's proscribed list. For obvious reasons, some products that mortals take for granted are also banned. No retailer in Hell will sell you feather pillows, wingback chairs, Miracle Whip mayonnaise, angel-food cake, or vice cream sundaes. None of those obscenities would have passed Rat's lips, but he was still allowed to feel good about Friday's arrival.

It had been a horrible week with the supercilious bank inspector impugning his deviltry, the forced resignation, the brazen ambush in the sewer, and virtual imprisonment in his own cave. However, the week was ending on a good note because Miss Patsy had assured him that she had extensive experience in developing retail software. She could easily produce the software he wanted if he could provide more information. She had attached a page of questions. Rat printed the page out and gave them to Meghan to answer. He'd type her responses into his e-mail software afterwards and send them to the consultant. He didn't want to take the chance of Meghan learning Miss Patsy's e-mail address. Besides, souls were not allowed unsupervised access to purgatory.net.

He'd ensure that she finished it before the end of the day. She wouldn't be able to work on it Saturday because Friday night was lab night! Whoopee.

### # # # # # # # #

_Announcing a free gift from Mutant Security Guards._

The message had popped up on Rat's monitor without warning. "What's this?" he asked Meghan who was working at her desk. She rose and walked over to position herself behind Rat's chair.

"Looks like it's a free gift from Mutant Security Guards," she said.

Rat searched for a trace of sarcasm in her voice but found none. Her face was, as usual, emotionless. "I can read the message. What does it mean? I've never heard of them."

"I found them during my search for security guards. They rent out guard-animals. You told me that you didn't want any devil coming into the cave. With an animal guard, that wouldn't be a concern. I gave them what they wanted in terms of email address and physical location of the business they'd be guarding. They said they'd send more information. This must be it. Click on the _More_ button."

Rat and Meghan read the message from the company president thanking them for their interest in his new business. He went on to offer them the free use of one of his animal guards for a thirty-day trial period. If they weren't satisfied, they could return the animal at any time within the trial period. If the guard worked out as required, they could subscribe to the service for 100-T a month.

"I didn't find anything that was as low as 100-T a month," Meghan advised.

"Probably for a reason. Dog teeth can't make a dent in a devil's scales." Rat clicked the _More_ button again.

_MSG's guards are on duty twenty-four hours a day. If the guard detects a threat to the owner's security, it will disable the intruder and await instructions on the level of deterrence to be applied. Owners are responsible for selecting a hand signal to accompany the command to 'come' and training the animal to obey it. Without this command, guards will not be able to patrol out of earshot. Owners are also responsible for ensuring the animal has sufficient rest, nutrition, and exercise to perform its duties._

"Dog food is cheap." Rat approved of that. Meghan wisely said nothing about his tormentt-pinching.

_The owner is solely responsible for any injuries or deaths that the guard may cause in the course of its duties._

"A dog that can kill a devil? This I have to see!" Rat clicked on the _I agree_ button. What could he lose? If he didn't want it, he could return it the next day. The only question in his mind was where in his cave he would keep the monster. Perhaps a cage by the front door?

_Your guard will be delivered to your cave by 10:00 Monday morning. A list of commands that it understands will be attached. Thank you for choosing Mutant Security Guards._

### # # # # # # # #

The following is a Friday evening exchange of mind messages between Arthur, Winnie, and Paula. Winnie starts the conversation.

_Where are you, Arthur?_

_In Rat's office._

_I just received an e-mail from him._

_Yeah, he sent you the answers that you wanted for the business software you were going to develop around 7:00 pm. Actually, Meghan composed the questions. Rat doesn't know anything about software. Did you get everything you needed?_

_Did he send me a second e-mail a minute or two ago?_

_No. He's been in his lab for the last half-hour. Paula's watching him._

_He's been mixing chemicals the whole time. Why are you asking about a second e-mail, Winnie?_

_I received the software answers at 7:02. I received a second e-mail that was date stamped 7:37 pm. The return address was invented, but I tracked it down to Rat's computer. Rat couldn't have written it because he's been in his lab. It has to be from Meghan. I'll read it out._

_Meghan starts with a warning in all caps that I must not reply to the message. I must delete it as soon as I have read it._

_Here's the first paragraph:_

_"You are in grave danger. Ratcliffe Buboni is not what he seems. He will reveal his true colors after you have finished the inventory software project he gave you today. Your life will never be the same again if you finish that project."_

_And now the second paragraph:_

_"He has locked you into the apartment. Do not try to escape. Do not raise his suspicions in any way - he's very sensitive to anybody trying to fool him. Work on the software, but do so very slowly. Do not suggest in any way that you can't complete the project. Do not argue with him - ever!"_

_Third paragraph:_

_"He is attracted to your body, so conceal it as much as possible when he visits you. Be as sexless as you can even when you're alone because he may have cameras in the apartment. Discourage his visits. Be as unappealing as you can whenever you see him."_

_Here's the really interesting part of the email:_

_"I will try to find a way for you to escape. Do not try to do this on your own. You are safe in your apartment for the time being. Just work slowly. Don't worry if you don't hear from me."_

_Last paragraph now._

_"If you are absolutely desperate to reach me, tell Mr. Buboni that you need some additional software. Invent a reason, but don't invent the software. Tell him you need Version 3.3. Monitor your computer closely after your request. I may have a chance to exchange a message or two with you, but that will be extremely dangerous. Do not take the risk unless it's absolutely necessary."_

_She signed it 'A Friend,' and repeated the instructions to not reply and to delete the message immediately. What do you think, guys? Is this a trap?_

### # # # # # # # #

Arthur: _It couldn't have been Meghan. She's under constant surveillance by the camera above her desk. Even if she somehow knew his e-mail password, the videotape would show her sitting at his computer. She'd be stupid to take that risk._

Winnie: _Not if she were smart about computers. How many printers are in the office?_

Arthur: _One. It's on a small table between their two desks._

Winnie: _Do you know if her computer is connected to the printer?_

Arthur: _Yes, it is. She used it to print her responses to your software questionnaire. Rat took the page of answers and re-typed them onto his own computer. That took him forever._

Winnie: _Then their two computers are networked together. It's possible she's using 'file sharing' to access Rat's computer from her own computer. She would have had to set this up from Rat's computer though. That would have been very risky._

Paula: _Rat's leaving the lab now._

Arthur: _Meghan just looked up at him and returned to her work. She didn't close any screen windows and she didn't look worried. He told her that it was time for some research. They're going across to the lab. I'll watch from there._

Paula: _I'll be in the loft above._

Winnie: _I have eyes and ears in the lab._

### # # # # # # # #

Both Paula and Arthur watched Rat test his vomiter for a few minutes and then left. They had no desire to see any more. They arrived in Winnie's apartment, expecting to see her at her computer. They found her sitting on the bathroom floor, next to the toilet.

"I didn't make it here in time," she explained the obvious.

Paula took charge as I'm sure you knew she would. She got Winnie into the shower and later helped Winnie wash her clothes in that shower. Arthur was assigned the duty of cleaning the bathroom floor, which he did quite willingly. He was watching the bedroom door when they emerged. "Sorry," she said to him as she sat down at the end of the sofa.

"S'alright," Arthur said as he sat down at the other end of the sofa.

"I wasn't expecting how brutal he would be."

"This is Hell," Paula reminded her as she slid into the armchair. "All souls get tortured."

"She must have done something evil to be sent to Hell," Arthur offered tentatively.

"I didn't think of her as evil. I think of her as brave."

"Because she warned you about Rat?" Paula asked.

"Yes. Why would she do that if she were evil? She's putting herself at risk."

"If she's in Hell, that means that she failed the HEE," Arthur reminded her.

...

"I had this kind of reaction before," Winnie confessed. "When I was younger, I saw the face of evil close up and threw up immediately. Momaka and Mom had to take care of me for several days. I was completely out of it. Mom was really worried. So was Momaka and she doesn't get worried often."

"How old were you?" Paula asked.

"I was eight-years old." _[Bob the Invisible Dragon, #6]_

"You're much older now," Paula tried to reassure. "You look much better now that you've showered."

"I'm not better. Rat is in my head just like Dreamer's dad was in my head."

"What did that mean for you?" Paula again.

"I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think. Momaka fixed me. I was completely fine afterwards."

"How did she fix you?"

"I killed Dreamer's dad. Now I have to kill Rat."

### # # # # # # # #

Of course, my readers know that Winnie didn't actually kill Dreamer's dad. She killed fake bodies that represented Dreamer's dad. And of course, she explained that to Arthur and Paula. But we'll skip that part. The trio are now at their safe electronic dead zone. Winnie was searching for ways to create a Rat body so she could kill it. That search wasn't going too well. They were in a ghost town of old torture pits. She saw nothing that could be disguised as Rat. There hadn't been anything in her apartment either. The bedding could be made into a body perhaps, but that bedding couldn't be destroyed. The three-masted schooner yielded no inspiration. Nor did the trolley car of cages. Paula had the answer.

"I can be Rat," she said. "You can beat on me."

That led to the revelation that Joe-Joe had given Paula the ability to create devil bodies that she could use as disguises. She had space in her body's memory function to create two more devils. As proof, she showed them the three bodies that she had already used. How hard would it be to re-create Rat's body?

Turns out... not very hard. Paula even duplicated Rat's scuttling, painful walk. The cave itself was big enough for Winnie to fly in. Paula's Rat body could try to hide between the various torture pits but Arthur had a broken spar that he could use to keep Rat from climbing into small spaces, like the hold of the schooner. Winnie had her own weapons that she declined to reveal. "Rat doesn't know about them, so you shouldn't know either," she explained to Paula.

"It might be best not to actually kill my body, Winnie. I don't know if that would send me to the sorting station or not."

"Will it hurt?"

"I don't believe so. Ghosts don't have very many nerves in their body, if any. I don't feel pain teleporting through brick walls, so I should be good."

Winnie did a few practice laps around the cavern and disappeared. Rat started to run from the schooner to the trolley car but managed only a few paces before he was ambushed by an invisible buzz saw. Scales started flying everywhere. When Rat turned, other scales disappeared. He tried backing up against the hull of the schooner but that didn't work. Hunkering down didn't work.

_I'm pretending to put my talons into your eyes now. Pretend you can't see._

Rat tottered into an open space where Winnie knocked him down, assumed her visible and normal angelic body and straddled him. "I don't know how to strike a killing blow," she confessed. "In here, I can't drop him from a high enough height to kill him. I don't need to kill. He's out of my mind now."

"How did you do all of that?" Arthur amazed. _[Arthur was not part of Winnie and Bean's attack on Djdg that you read about in Remember the Halocracy, #15. He knew nothing about the de-scaler weapons that Winnie had just used.]_

"It works way better when I can be invisible," Winnie observed quite correctly.

"Show me how you stripped off all of his scales," Arthur persevered.

"I'd like to see too."

"Top secret. Need to know basis only."

...

"Kidding."

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie was back in her apartment now. She had reassured both Arthur and Paula that she would be fine. Both had gone off to sleep. Winnie was watching Rat who was in his living room, doing nothing. She had already determined that Meghan's lifeless body was in the lab.

Just after midnight, Rat phoned for an _immediate pickup_. He trudged up to the padded room, grasped Meghan's ankles, and dragged her naked, smeared body-sleeve to the door, her head clump-clumping all the way down the stairs. Rat jettisoned her in a crumple by the door and stood there waiting. Somebody knocked soon after. Rat yelled at the knocker to stand on the street. He waited a minute, peeped through the peephole, cracked the door open, poked his head out and looked around. Apparently satisfied, he lifted Meghan's head, secured it under an armpit, pulled her out of the cave, dropped her on the front step, and booted her body off the stoop. "Deliver her back here first thing Monday morning," he yelled and retreated behind his door. A few seconds later, the door cracked open again. "I have a smock for her; don't charge me."

Winnie watched as the van driver picked up Meghan's body, threw it into his van and drove off. _She was evil enough to be sent to Hell when she died. That means that she's evil now. Evil people don't suddenly become go_ od.

_..._

_An evil person wouldn't warn me about Rat and offer to help me escape._

_..._

_If she's not evil, why is she here? She's here because she failed the HEE. Therefore, she's evil._

_..._

_I failed the HEE and I'm not evil. Heaven could have fouled up again. She's good._

_..._

_I could communicate with her through Arthur. Our plan will work better if we have Meghan working with us. But if she's evil, we could be captured._

_..._

_Joe-Joe said that we should trust nobody. He told us that there's no such thing as 'good' in Hell. He was most emphatic about that. I have to treat her as evil._

_..._

_Could she be a plant that somebody has infiltrated into Rat's confidence so that she can help that somebody steal Rat's gold? A smart devil would do that. Perhaps she's been promised a way to escape the torture pits and be promoted directly to devil? That's why she was listening in on Rat's conversations in his office. That would make her evil on the inside but fake good on the outside. That would fit what she's doing now._

_..._

_Am I getting paranoid? Are devils sneaky enough to do that? Yes, they are. She's evil. I should not trust her._

_..._

_Am I overthinking this? She's good. I can feel it._

_..._

_How can I not trust Joe-Joe? She's evil._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 7

A pounding on the cave door brought Rat down from his office. After an exchange of yells through the door, Rat used the peephole to reassure himself that the door pounder was walking away. Only then did he open his door. A small cubed package with a big red sign _Mutant Security Guards_ on its top lay on his stoop. The carton had no weight whatsoever. Rat didn't notice the air holes in the top they were so small.

"The instructions on how to use the guard animal have arrived," he said to Meghan. "They're probably bringing the dog under restraints. Take care of this." He tossed the package onto her desk.

Two aggrieved peeps barely escaped through the light cardboard.

Meghan took a closer look at the package. "It has air holes." She shook it up and down vigorously. The peeps became more indignant. "Something's inside."

### # # # # # # # #

"A canary? They sent me a canary? It was a prank and you fell for it!" Rat cuffed Meghan soundly. "Flush it."

"A sheet of instructions is in the bottom of the box." Meghan shook some feather fluff off the single sheet. "Its name is Dimitry."

"I told you it was a prank. Nobody in Hell would dare to name anything after a Russian saint. Flush it!"

The little bundle of yellow flush-to-be was cowering on the floor of the box. Meghan used her finger to transfer it to the carton's top edge where it could look around. "It understands eight verbal commands. Let's see what happens. _Dimitry: Patrol._ "

The fluff-ball launched itself off the cardboard rim and flew to the top of the ceiling where it circled, chirping intermittently, and then flew out of the office.

"If the guard is told to _patrol_ inside a cave, it will sweep every room looking for potential threats. If none is found, it will guard the cave's entrance." Meghan continued to read directly from the sheet. "If the command to patrol is given outside, the guard will maintain a constant lookout for threats. However, the guard will never move out of viewing range of its owner in case an active defense is required, or if another command needs to be given. Warning: the guard's patrol may take it out of range of a verbal command. Be sure to teach it a hand signal for _Come._ "

Meghan left the office and returned shortly with the bird on her shoulder, chirping intermittently. She transferred it into the cardboard box again. "I found it perched in a little indent high above the front door. I used the _Come_ command to bring it down. It sat on my shoulder automatically." She read some more. "The chirping is the _All clear_ signal. The sheet says we'll know if the bird ever raises an alarm. Let's try another command: _Dimitry: Protect_!"

Rat looked up, more interested now.

The bird flew up to Meghan's shoulder and perched there.

"In _Protect_ mode, the guard will approach the owner as necessary to perform its duty. A warning will be given at the first sign of a threat. If the owner's safety is threatened, the guard will take action to remove the threat. If the guard can't remove the threat, it will attempt to remove the owner from imminent danger. The sheet says that Mutant Security Guards is not responsible if the owner ignores these warnings. You should try giving it some commands."

" _Dimitry: Protect_!" The yellow fluff-ball flew to Rat's shoulder. "Yell at me," he instructed Meghan.

Dimitry didn't react.

"Yell louder."

Still no reaction.

"Keep yelling and pick up the box."

There was a low rumble - like the growl of a dog. Impossible really from something so tiny.

"Come closer."

The rumble increased in intensity.

"Throw the box at me hard!"

As Meghan released the box, Dimitry flew off Rat's shoulders directly at Meghan. A hawk's talons shredded the cardboard box and debris spattered onto the ground. A yellow fluff ball flew back to Rat's shoulder.

"Let me see those instructions," Rat said and held out his hand.

### # # # # # # # #

An hour later, Meghan stood on the Rat's stoop, looking back at the sliver of Rat's face peeking through the crack in his open cave door. "Anything?" Rat's mouth asked.

"Just all-clear chirps." Dimitry was sitting on Meghan's shoulder, unconcerned by the devils clustered in little clumps down both slopes of the hill.

"Does it see them?"

"They're impossible to miss."

"What about sending it on p..a..t..r..o..l?"

"We don't have a hand signal to bring it back. Besides, it's already telling me that there's no threat."

"Dim witted bird!"

"Well, it's correct. There is no threat to me and I'm the one it's guarding now."

"Come back inside."

### # # # # # # # #

It took Rat another hour to work up the courage. Meghan came out first to see if the devils were any closer. They weren't, but there were more of them. News had spread that a sliver of Rat's face had been seen.

Rat sidled out of his cave and waited for Meghan to follow. She stood with her back against the door - one hand pulling the door firmly against the piece of cardboard preventing the locks from engaging. She had a dozen 1000-T coins clasped in the other hand. If things got ugly, she would throw those into the crowd. The distraction should allow Rat to slip back inside his cave. Rat walked down to the sidewalk and stood there, waiting.

"Dimitry: Protect!"

Dimitry started growling when the devils sauntered past the parked cars and scooters.

"What'cha going to be doing now, Rat?"

"Are you hiring?"

"Want me to take those paint marks off your cave, Rat?"

"Torture your soul, Rat?"

They all had their patter ready, but only the first comments were decipherable. The rest were swamped by a low mumble of questions as the crowd seeped forward offering deals. Dimitry vaulted into the air and began circling above Rat's head, his body growing larger with each pass. As the bird grew in size, it rose higher and higher, skreeing stridently. The crowd of devils never noticed this, so fixated were they on not alarming the Rat who was poised for his own form of flight.

When they were forty paces away, Rat raised his hand, palm out in the universal stop signal. As if that would work.

At twenty paces, a large projectile screeched over the horn tips of the leaders. They noticed that and looked up. A large, weird-looking bird was circling higher and higher above Rat's head. The skrees modulated up and down into a siren effect.

All but one devil hesitated. The one with the briefcase sidled forward. "Rat, I have some insurance policies here that you might want to look at. What do you say you and I go inside and..."

His spiel boomed out in the quiet. Too late, the insurance-devil realized that the silence from the bird was its final warning. From two-hundred feet in the air, a heavy projectile can generate enough power to knock a devil to the ground and leave him breathless. Sharp talons gripped the devil's head. He didn't notice the talons. He was too concerned about the pressure of the sharp beak inside the full length of his right ear canal.

Rat fumbled for the sheet of instructions: There was _Release_ , _Injure_ , _Maim_ , and _Kill_. If he gave the _Kill_ command, Rat figured the bird would thrust its long, narrow beak directly through the eardrum and into the brain. Death would be instantaneous. The ear was one of the few places on a devil's body not protected by scales.

Two talons were poised above another unprotected organ. The eyes. _Maim_ would take care of them.

Curious as to what the bird would do, Rat said, _Injure_. Then, when nothing happened, he tried _Dimitry: Injure._

Two powerful wing thrusts propelled Dimitry into the air. The devil's body rose with him. The pressure of the talons was released enough for the devil to slowly slide through the grip, crumple to the ground, and then grab his face. Face scales were everywhere. Black blood immediately began to seep through the victim's hands.

"He was only selling insurance, Rat...." A second devil stepped forward but stopped when he felt the bird land on his head, position talons over both of his eyes, and insert a beak inside his ear. "Course, nobody should have to put up with these slimy insurance peddlers, and it's perfectly understandable that you would not need to buy any insurance, what with your nice little birdie here." He started to lift one hand to pet his new friend when a rumble of menace stopped him. The devil started backing up, one arm partially upraised the other frantically motioning the devils behind him to get back. "Back. Back. Don't make any false moves," the hand yelled.

Greed is high in a devil's thinking. Self-preservation is higher.

### # # # # # # # #

Narrator Interlude.

_Some professions are not welcome in Hell. Insurance executives, for example, receive long torture pit sentences. Even if they achieve devil rank, these sinners are sentenced to one of the most depressing and unfulfilling jobs in all of Hell: selling insurance cave-to-cave. This lowly position is somewhat surprising given the deplorable treatment that insurance companies give to mortals. Think about it. Insurance policies are written to be unintelligible to any human without a background in advanced gobble-de-gook. Plus, many insurance companies will try to deny every claim they can for any reason they can invent. If they ever do pay a claim, they'll immediately try to recover their money by raising the mortal's premiums. After all, he's shown himself to be a poor risk. He submitted a claim._

_Given how they treat mortals, one would think that Satan would give insurance executives the royal treatment. He did. At first. Until they refused to sell him the insurance he wanted. Infuriated, he sentenced all insurance devils to an impoverished afterlife of cave-to-cave selling forever._

_In view of what the insurance peddlers had to offer, it's not surprising that no devil would listen to their patter. Take afterlife insurance, for example. How dumb would a devil have to be to buy afterlife insurance and then name a beneficiary?_

_Then, there's property insurance. What would you insure a cave against? Floods? Tornadoes? Earthquakes? These aren't a risk in Hell. The companies do offer insurance against cave erosion caused by Hell freezing over, but so far they haven't sold a single policy._

_Hell is known for its fire and brimstone, so you might think fire insurance would be a big seller. Wrong. Rock caves can't burn. Devils are impervious to fire._

_So, insurance sales-devils spend their afterlife trudging from cave to cave, knocking on doors and handing out pamphlets that nobody wants. All because the very first insurance devils wouldn't sell Satan the coverage that he wanted. They argued that they had never covered that risk in their earthly policies and so they refused to cover it in Hell. You're probably wondering what the risk was that Satan wanted. That's easy. It was insurance against 'Acts of God.'_

### # # # # # # # #

Danger. Great danger!

Winnie woke and clambered out of bed, crouching in the darkness, all senses alert. Danger was near! Great danger! She turned on the lights and examined every dark nook and cranny in the apartment. Nothing. But the feelings from her dream still surrounded her. _Can't breathe. Pain._ Winnie explained away the dream as an after effect of Meghan's torture. She didn't bother telling Arthur or Paula about it. Why? It was just a dream.

Arthur also woke suddenly that night. His dream was different. He saw fire. He also didn't bother telling anybody. That afternoon, he had been sitting on the edge of one of the cages that had been part of the flaming inferno that souls had to pass through in their cages. He had felt a little uncomfortable about the torture pit the first time he had been there. Perhaps he was afraid of fire? Was this something inherent in an angel's DNA. Unfortunately, he didn't have any angels nearby he could ask.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 8

It was the second week of April and Melissa was reporting to the directors who were meeting in Granny and Doc's house. William, Stu, and Dreamer were also there. Melissa has just begun her report.

"The Colorado Legislature has passed the anti-trust bill and its regulations. As predicted, on the advice of their lawyers, the DCA made no official protests against the creation of the law. They did complain about it privately and are planning to go to court to fight any cases that are brought against their companies. They'll fight it all the way to the Supreme Court where they expect to win. Granny, do you have any more details from what you overheard through the drones?"

"You asked if they were concerned about any particular companies and we saw no evidence of that. They plan to stall any judgments that are made against them until the case can get to the Supreme Court. Will that work, Stu?"

"We won't have to worry about that."

"Dreamer, have you seen any evidence that any of the DCA companies are struggling?" Melissa asked.

"No. All of their companies are well established and they fill a need. Whether the company is located in a small town or in a larger center, they provide jobs to their communities. Whatever they sell, people buy. We can't destroy these businesses in order to get at the DCA."

"Will that happen in your plan, Melissa?" Hank asked.

"We don't have any control over how the court is going to rule when an anti-trust case comes before them. But Stu has built guidelines into the law's regulations that can avoid what you're concerned about if the judges use it."

Granny stepped in. "Melissa, you have been planning two operations. What's their status?"

" _Operation Beef Jerky_ is a covert operation that will focus on bringing the three crooked judges in the Supreme Court to justice. We'll need every available hand for the first stage of that operation. Major Vincent is giving both the Angels and the Valkyries a practice run tonight. They will be working on the ground while the Wilizy will be flying. The Mysticals will be involved as well. We should be ready to go on this as soon as calving season is over. William and Yolanda, will you be ready?"

"I have all the sling pallets that you'll need," William affirmed.

"I've been working with Scapula and Patella and they will follow my instructions," Yolanda announced.

"And the other operation?" Granny prompted.

" _Operation Mining_ is targeted at the three remaining DCA ranchers. It's just getting off the ground now. Stu is going draft a set of laws that will address the legal issue of who owns the mineral rights in the state. The purpose of the legislation will be to create a new mining industry. Stook is quietly bringing the leaders of the leg into the picture on this issue. So far, everybody agrees that stimulating a mining industry in Colorado would be a very good idea. Stook will set up a Ministry of Economic Development, which will have government funds to loan to Colorado companies who wish to develop new businesses. These funds will be interest free for the first two years, but to qualify, Colorado companies must register with the Ministry and provide copies of their books for the last three years. The interest free loans will be available to any Colorado company that offers a reasonable plan for expanding their business and creating jobs. However, the Ministry will be particularly generous with prospective mining companies."

"Time line, Melissa?"

"Operation Beef Jerky will start first and hopefully finish by the end of June. Operation Mining will start slowly as we have to put some laws in place first. We won't run two operations simultaneously. The DCA can wait until after June to receive their justice."

### # # # # # # # #

My sharp-eyed readers will have noticed that the thirty women in camp were now known as _Valkyries_ instead of the _Innocents._ You may wonder how that happened and why. Here's what had happened earlier in the month.

"Mac, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, Palesa. Something about Operation Beef Jerky? Everybody is well prepared for it."

"We're all looking forward to getting into action. It's not that."

"What then?"

"I'm here to speak on behalf of the other women."

"OK."

"We hope you won't take offense at me approaching you. We appreciate very much the opportunity the Wilizy have given us to begin a new life."

"OK."

"We're very happy with the camp, the instructors, the training, and the food."

"OK"

"But, calling us _The Innocents_ is causing all of us some problems."

"OK."

"It's like calling us _The Virgins_ or _The Nuns_."

"OK."

"None of us are virgins, Mac. We certainly aren't nuns. You may have noticed we swear a lot, we make crude remarks, and we tell dirty jokes."

"OK."

"We thought that we'd ask you to consider a different name for the Corp."

"OK."

"Did you know that the Valkyries were essentially angels of death for the gods Odin and Reyja? In Norse mythology, the Valkyries decided which soldiers died in battle and which lived. That's kind of what we'll be doing. Deciding who lives and who doesn't. We had a vote. We all liked that name."

"OK."

"Can we call ourselves the _Valkyries_?"

"OK."

"Uhhh, this is awkward. Can I ask you something else?"

"OK."

"I mentioned that we aren't nuns. Many of us used to have active sex lives. We all would like that to continue. So, we have two requests."

"OK."

"Can we have furloughs where we leave Montana and go to some city that has an active social scene?"

"OK."

"Could we be issued with birth control devices for those furloughs?"

"OK."

"Thanks, Mac."

"OK."

Back to the Table of Contents

#  Chapter 9

After the incident with the insurance peddlers, Rat had risked two more forays outside his cave. News of his bird must have spread quickly because no clusters of devils were around his cave when he ventured out. He walked up and down Septic Drive hill unmolested. The few devils he did see crossed the street before they got to him. The bird had chirped on his shoulder the whole time. After a few days of testing, Rat was ready to venture downtown.

Rat looked left and right before stepping off his stoop, his suitcase bouncing off its wheels. It was the perfect size for hauling heavy 1000-T coins to the nearest branch of the Bank of Hell. Devils wouldn't know that it contained biker and babe magazines.

Rat called out _Dim Wit: Protect_ and they were off. The name _Dimitry_ was long gone. No way would Rat use the name of a saint who was known for halting the spread of the plague in Russia. It had taken him hours to teach the dimwitted bird his new name.

As they entered the busier open plazas, Dim Wit rose off Rat's shoulder and began circling slowly and lazily, occasionally skreeing loud enough to draw attention to itself. In effect he was saying, _I'm here. Don't try anything_. Rat maintained a steady advance, resisting the urge to check behind him every other pace.

They entered the downtown core, so completely congested with pedestridevils that they couldn't give Rat a wide passage anymore. Dim Wit rose even higher, grew even larger, and raised the decibels in his calls. Still no siren though; there was potential danger, but nothing to be concerned about yet.

Rat continued pulling his wheeled suitcase behind him. Nobody stopped to chat; they couldn't pass him fast enough.

Rat didn't notice the noise coming up behind him, but Dim Wit did. When the warning siren sounded, most of the devils in the square looked up at the blur of the diving bird. The devils close enough to be in danger scattered, giving the motorcycle rider a clear shot at the prize. Seconds after the suitcase handle had changed claws, Dim Wit slammed into the side of the thief's body, knocking it off the hog which skid noisily along the pavement, revved momentarily, and died. In the relative silence that followed, the agonized cries of the helmeted biker drew everybody's attention.

Having witnessed the bird's previous tactics in front of Rat's cave, this ingenious devil had worn a safety helmet. Although these were generally targets of derision in Hell, she figured no bird's beak could penetrate the carbon/kevlar composite that covered her entire head. She hadn't counted on the bird adopting different tactics.

It was quite a show. The biker rose from her sprawl only to find that the bird had fastened its talons deep into scale crevices in the one location on her back that her frantic hands couldn't reach. Moreover, the bird was small again - there was nothing big enough to grab.

The bird, on the other hand, had no problem beaking off scale after scale. When a large circle of bloody flesh had been uncovered, the bird inserted its sharp killing instrument into the biker's flesh and waited for the next command.

Rat walked up to the devil who had adopted the universal hands-in-the-air _Don't kill me_ stance. Rat raised his assailant's visor and looked into the helmet. He recognized the devil. Now down on her luck, she had enjoyed temporary notoriety as the devil responsible for inflicting Gilligan's Island on an unsuspecting populace many years ago.

The Rat was on her like cirrhosis on liver. "Goodbye Ginger Vitis. Dim Wit..."

The death sentence was interrupted by a frantic plea. "It was only robbery. Robbery's not a capital offense. Take a scale. I have tormentts. Take a scale."

"I'm entitled to three times the amount of the attempted robbery. You don't have enough to cover what I have in my suitcase."

"Take it all. Time Stamp: I agree to the Rat cleaning out my bank account." Ginger Vitis did an abridged version of the hoe down - no reason to alarm the bird perched on her back by becoming too active.

"It's not enough. Dim Wit..."

"Take the hog too. There are only four others in all of Hell. I imported it before the ban. Time Stamp: I also relinquish ownership of my hog to the Rat in compensation for my attempted robbery."

"Is the gas tank full?"

"Yes. Take the helmet too."

The Rat was back and ready to after-live high on the hog. He didn't even need a booster seat.

### # # # # # # # #

_Narrator Interlude._

_Were you surprised to learn that Satan had imposed a ban on importing motorcycles into Hell? It's curious behaviour, since he allows other kinds of vehicles including scooters. Why not hogs?_

_Think about it from Satan's perspective. Many former gangster bikers are in Hell. On Earth, such gangs are associated with evil; but in Hell, they could be associated with good. If you were Satan, would you want devils roaring through the sewers with the name 'Hell's Angels' on their backs?_

### # # # # # # # #

It's time for you to meet Focus Test, a graphic designer in the hornocracy's Media Manipulation Division and Firewall Freddie's friend. To date, since Focus Test had not participated personally in direct mortal torture, neither his slender stature nor his adolescent horns had grown much.

However, Focus Test had no doubts about the upward direction of his career. In his confident mind, media manipulation was where the future lay. Focus' friendship with Firewall had been inspired after news had leaked of his aura revealing technology. Focus intended to get the credit for personally delivering that technology to his Media Manipulation director.

Focus had mapped his career centuries into the future. He had noticed that powerful devils tended to have short skinny tails - at least short in comparison to their height. He thought the reason was obvious: as devil bodies grew in stature, their tails did not lengthen to the same degree. Focus was determined to avoid that embarrassment. Accordingly, he exchanged his one free body readjustment coupon for an overly long and thick tail. So, for the time being, Focus Test's body was out of proportion. It didn't help that he was gaining weight around his hips and thighs from too many planning and brainstorming meetings. As a result, at this point in his career, the bottom half of Focus Test's body resembled that of an adolescent kangaroo.

Focus Test had a two-prong career plan: advancement through the hornocracy's Media Manipulation Division in addition to success in a personal business. He was currently an equal partner in the _Charred Puppies and Other Images Tattoo Parlor_ and spent his evenings and weekends burning art onto the scales of his clients. Firewall was one of his special clients - he received freebees.

It was Focus Test who had listened to Firewall's griping about Rat. It was Focus Test who had urged Firewall to stand up to Rat in the meeting that discussed his technology. It was Focus Test who heard about the consultant and how Firewall had had to kiss Rat's arse. It was Focus Test who had received the confidential information about that technology and had passed it on to his director. It was Focus Test who had pushed Firewall into tattooing a thick, black studded collar tattoo around his neck with the clasp of the collar under his chin dominated by the image of a red diamond. It was Focus Test who had provided the paints and then stood guard while Firewall had decorated Rat's cave exterior after the awards ceremony. And, it was Focus Test who had urged his director to interview Firewall for a position with the Media Manipulation Division. They were now a team and Focus Test was the devious half of the team. That's why he was so adept at advertising.

Right now, Focus and Firewall were relaxing in the Charred Puppies and Other Images Tattoo Parlor. Focus was exhorting Firewall to become more active. "You need to get revenge on Rat for firing your butt."

"I thought I did."

"Decorating his cave wasn't much revenge. What if you could get revenge on Rat and become a lot richer in the process?"

"You shouldn't believe those silly rumors about Rat having a secret vault."

"If they're not true, why has Rat been cowering in his cave since Satan removed his patronage? Why does he have some animal protecting him? Why doesn't he allow anybody into his cave other than his tortured soul? Do you know anybody who has ever been inside?"

"No. I heard that it was impossible to get in. Now he has that bird and it's even more impossible."

"Well, I know somebody who's been in his cave. His name is Ante Up. He's a driver of a stiff removal van who picks up dead souls and transports them to HISS. He and I have been talking about going after Rat's gold. Taking his gold would be real revenge. Ante Up knows how to get into his cave."

"How?" Firewall was curious; an unsolvable problem had a solution?

"Rat tortures his soul to death several times a month. The next time he needs her delivered to HISS, Ante Up will be there. The three of us will catch him by surprise and barge into his cave. He and I will work on Rat until he turns over his gold. If the bird attacks, it won't be able to fly very high. All you have to do is throw a net over it and pitchfork it to death."

"What if Rat doesn't kill the soul?"

"He has to torture her to keep her. All we have to do is make him mad enough that he'll go the distance. It should be easy to goad him. You can start by reminding him of his humiliation at the awards ceremony. Paint his colored circles all over Hell."

"I don't know. Nobody sneaks up on The Rat."

"Are you a deacon or a devil? You don't look like a devil. How'd you get into Hell anyway?"

_[In that regard, Focus Test was right. Firewall looked like a spear of asparagus with training horns on its tip.]_

"I was a pedophile."

"Abusing little girls is way low on the evil scale. How'd you get out of the torture pits?"

"I never went in. I was promoted directly to devil because of my computer hacking skills."

"So, you're not evil at all."

"Sure I am."

"No, you're not. You've never done anything evil here in Hell."

"I write software. I don't have the chance."

"I'll let you torture Rat. You'll be known as the devil who ambushed Rat and stole all of his gold."

...

"Well?"

...

"You're a goody two wings. You probably fart cinnamon." Focus began walking around the tattoo parlour flapping his arms. "Fly away, fly away, you little saint."

...

"You have stubby horns. They'll never grow, you know. You'll be like a little girl in Hell. Real devils are going to enjoy you. They'll call you Angelica. You don't have the horns to fight back."

"I'll do it."

_[As the saying sorta goes, goads in Hell are paved with rude intentions.]_

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 10

Operation Beef Jerky began Thursday evening, April 12. It was a moonless night, which was important since some Wilizy would be invisible and they wanted to keep that secret from the Guardian Angels and the Valkyries.

The battle took place in the far northern area of Colorado near what is now known as _Hereford_. Back in 1875, a man named Frank Benton owned a lot of prairie land in this area. Serviced by the Burlington-Missouri River Railroad, his ranch shipped thousands of Hereford cattle off to be slaughtered. People started calling the ranch and the surrounding area _Hereford_.

In 2091, the Hereford ranch and land was owned by Bausch Schnappe, the great-great grandson of a German immigrant. He was the richest DCA rancher in the state. Everybody called him _Boss_ including his wife and two sons who lived on the ranch with their families. Ranch hands, some with families, also lived on the property. They had no other place to live in this area. No towns, no villages, and no abandoned ghost towns. The closest Colorado settlement of any size was Fort Collins, which was about a thirty minute copter ride away.

Two Wilizy jumbos lifted off from the Wilizy lands in Montana at 10 pm sharp and headed south. On board were the thirty Valkyries and the one hundred Angels, each wearing camouflage uniforms and carrying certain equipment but no weapons. The Angels had been broken into twenty operating units of five boys each. The Valkyries had been formed into six operational units of five women each. Reese was flying one jumbo and Major Vincent the other. As they approached their target zones around the Hereford ranch, the jumbos separated with one attacking from the north and the other attacking from the south.

Precisely at midnight, operational units began jumping out of the jumbos, one unit at a time. The area of the ranch they were attacking was a one-mile square. Each unit would be dropped at a designated GPS location on the perimeter of that square. They would be picked up after the operation at another designated spot well away from the ranch house itself. All attacks were designed to be out of sight of that ranch house.

When I said that the units were jumping out of the jumbo, I did mean that. They jumped. Feet first. Learning to free-fall from the jumbo had been an enormously popular activity the last month for the cadets and Valkyries. They all now knew how to sky dive and to do that in a pentagon formation. At the signal of the unit commander, each solider activated his or her jet pack and landed soundlessly on the prairie below. On the way down, they had been using night goggles to find the heat signatures of their quarry, all of which were motionless and were probably sleeping. They landed close to their selected targets, turned off their jet packs, walked into the closest grouping of the sleeping enemy, and immobilized each of them soundlessly with a long strip of brown cloth.

Let me share how Stanley Vincent had described the operational expectations to his forces: _We will_ a _rrive in enemy territory without being detected, deploy our forces widely over an attack area, and capture the enemy without causing any sound that would alert opposing forces._

Since this was their first actual operation, the Angels and Valkyries weren't ready to go up against real enemy soldiers. Instead, they would practice their skills by attacking sleeping cattle. Specifically, calves. _Disabling_ them meant tying a cloth strip around their rear legs to hobble them. As soon as one group of sleeping cattle was immobilized, units would attack another group. If any unit ran out of enemy to attack, they were to communicate with other units who might have sleeping calves still un-hobbled.

This part of the operation finished smoothly with all units arriving at the pick up spot in time to take off at 1:30 am precisely.

### # # # # # # # #

At 1:35, Wilizy forces resumed the operation. They too were organized in units, each unit relying on a _Mystical_ to enter a target area (the locations where calves were hobbled) and clear the area of enemy forces (momma cows).

None of the Wilizy had had ranching experiences with the exception of Cowboy. They knew about cows and could recognize pictures of them when mixed in with horses and sheep. What they didn't know was whether a momma cow would become dangerously annoyed if she saw her baby cow in potential danger. The Mysticals were there to influence the momma cows to move away from their babies. The theory was that a stalking wolf or panther would influence them a lot. They didn't know what the cows' reaction would be to Bob, the invisible dragon who, for this operation would be Bob, the visible walking dragon. Thus, eight units were formed with the following as stalkers: Patella, Scapula, Freya, Madison, Marie's panther, Nary's panther, and Theo's panther. Plus Bob.

It turns out that a sharp-toothed animal on four legs stalking a momma cow was sufficiently dangerous to turn her into Momma, the chicken cow. This is the only time in recorded history where cows could be chickens and chickens could be cows. I hope you appreciate the significance of this event. If you're wondering about the reaction to Bob, the cows didn't know what to make of him. When he decided to turn on the barbecue flame, the Momma cows skedaddled. Fast. This is the first time in recorded history that cows could not only be chickens but could be said to be skedaddlers too. A four legged half-ton of skeddaddling chicken cow is not a pretty sight. I hope you appreciate, etc.

Once a spot was cleared around a hobbled calf, an invisible Wilizy member would approach quietly and placed a chloroformed pad over the calf's nostrils. The very deeply sleeping calf was palletized inside one of William's electronic moving vans which turned the calf invisible, jerked them into the air, (hence the operation's name) and departed for a particular GPS spot sixty miles to the south. More info on that later. You may now attempt to visualize about five-hundred sleeping calves rising into the air and floating through the sky in a very long cattle queue. _Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay. Get along, little doggies._ I have now exhausted by cowboy lingo. You may breathe easily now.

After all of the calves had floated away, the Mysticals and remaining Wilizy departed and the momma cows were left to wonder, _What just happened here?_ They answered that question by going back to sleep. Cows can be quite pragmatic.

### # # # # # # # #

Let's move now to the destination of our queue of sleeping calves. That destination was Fort Morgan, which was a small but prosperous community about eighty miles northeast of Denver. Fort Morgan was situated in the middle of a lot of flat prairie land, which was ideal for raising cattle. The initial fort was established as a military outpost by the federal government in 1864 to protect stagecoaches and pioneers travelling through the area on the Overland Trail. The Union Pacific railway entered the area in 1868 and made the fort unnecessary. With the advent of the railway, the ranching industry grew rapidly as cattle could now be shipped to distant cities like Chicago and New York. Later, some entrepreneurs would ask a simple question: _Why ship the whole cow when we could ship just the meat?_

That moment of clarity gave rise to the meat packing industry in Fort Morgan. For those of you think that meat packing means putting packages of meat into small cardboard cartons that could be shipped to meat lovers everywhere, you should consider yourself naïve. _[Pronounced as 'nigh-eve.'_ ] Here are two words that accurately describe the main building in a meat packing plant. _Slaughterhouse_. How's it feel not to be naïve anymore?

Fort Morgan had a long history of various meat packing companies shipping their finished product, first by railway, then by railway and highway, and then by copter transports. Currently there was one such company in Fort Morgan and it was called the _Supreme Beef Packing Company_ or _SBP_ for short. Locally, the plant is referred to as _Stinky But Prosperous._

As workers of the SBP arrived at work Friday morning, they quickly realized that their holding yards were very full when they had been empty the previous afternoon. After a quick count, the manager of the holding yards reported to his superior that 504 calves had arrived overnight. No details on the origin of this deposit were provided. Was somebody in _Receiving_ aware of this shipment? The answer was _No_. They decided to wait for the shipper to send the necessary information before beginning processing. Paperwork can often go missing or arrive late, so they were confident that the shipper would soon identify himself. After all, that many calves represented a very large sum of money. Big profits were in store for the shipper and for Stinky But Prosperous. Hence that last word in their nickname.

### # # # # # # # #

Back in Hereford, the hands who watched over the ranch's cattle were much more observant. They noticed very early in the morning that almost their entire crop of calves was missing. That observation spread up the executive ladder very quickly. When it reached to the top, senior executives _had a cow_ , figuratively at least.

Losing all of their calves in one fell swoop would be calamitous. Normally, calves would reach full growth and then fatten up sufficiently to be sold to the meat packers after two or three years of snacking on the range. Losing an entire year of calves meant that two or three years from now, the ranch would have no income that year. Cattle were the ranch's _cash cow_ , you might say.

The rustlers' timing could not have been worse. At least from the ranch's perspective. _[From Melissa's perspective, she had timed it perfectly.]_ The calves were at the age where they would be rounded up soon, brought into a central location, added to the ranch's inventory, and branded. Without a brand, there was no way of proving that any particular calf belonged to Boss Schnappe. They didn't even know how many calves had been stolen. Boss Schnappe had just lost anywhere from $250,000 to $350,000.

Rustling was always a threat for cattle ranchers, especially when a copter could set down in a field in the middle of the night and take off with one or two cows. But, nobody rustled Boss Schnappe's cattle, not after a trio of rustlers had tried several decades ago. Boss' hands had caught them trying to sell a few head to a meat processing plant. The three men were so distraught at their crime that they committed suicide. By hanging themselves. With a rope around a tree branch. With their hands tied behind their back. While sitting on a horse. The word spread quickly. Boss now had a reputation for dealing harshly with rustlers. You might say he had all prospective rustlers _cowed_.

Boss knew that one or two rustlers could not have pulled this job. A large group had to be involved. He contacted the closest sheriff's office, which was in Fort Collins. Sheriff Evans responded with four copters full of deputies and temporary deputies. Like I said, Boss was well known. The sheriff didn't want to have to ignore a dozen or so rustlers found accidentally dead from artificially elongated necks.

The sheriff's first task was to search the site where the calves had been grazing. That was a large area, but the search was successful. They found an abandoned small belly pack with three long cords of brown cloth hanging out of it. Next, the sheriff sent the four copters out in four directions, which is why he ha brought four of them. Their job: talk to neighbours. Did they hear anything unusual last night? Frightened cows make noises. _[I suppose I could write that cowed cows make cowardly noises, but that's probably going too far. I'm done with the cow puns now. You're probably happy about that.]_

The first ranch to the south reported sounds of frightened cows that woke them before dawn. Sheriff Evans relocated the three other copters to search the south and they leapfrogged each other on an almost direct line of reported cow sounds that ended in Fort Morgan. _[You may be wondering how unconscious calves could have made sufficient noise to wake up sleeping ranchers. They didn't. They were sleeping. Wolf wasn't sleeping though. He had taken a leisurely sling ride from Hereford to Fort Morgan with his portable PA system blaring out cattle noises that he had downloaded from an oldy moldy cowboy flick.]_

Arriving in Fort Morgan, Sheriff Evans immediately ordered a search of the land surrounding the Supreme Beef Packing Company. They found the full pens of young calves immediately. Employees there reported that they had appeared in those pens some time during the night. The sheriff's men did a count and found three hundred and five calves with two of them wearing a scrap of brown cloth around their hooves. As a matter or routine, the deputies searched all the cattle transport copters in the yard. They found two such copters with brown cloth hobbles in the grime of their holds. Not only had they found the rustled cattle, but they had also found the people who had rustled them.

Sheriff Evans had a grim look on his face as he walked the stairs to the executive suite of the Supreme Beef Packing Company. He wasn't particularly anxious to question the owner of the company and the most famous and important man in Fort Morgan, but question him he must. The evidence suggested that somebody here had participated in the cattle rustling. The problem was: he would be questioning the chief justice of the Colorado Supreme Court.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 11

Under pressure from both parties involved in the massive calf heist, Sheriff Evans called a meeting to outline what steps he would be taking to solve the case. That Monday meeting took place in the small staff lunchroom of the Fort Collins sheriff department building. It was either that or have the meeting in their single holding cell. Present were Boss Schnappe, Chief Justice Chauncey Vaughn, and Evans' top deputy. Both of the visitors had wanted to bring legal representation, which Evans denied on the grounds of lack of space. Sheriff Evans claimed that his deputy had to be present because he had conducted most of investigation. He was really there to be a witness. Sheriff Evans was expecting to be put under a lot of pressure to handle the investigation in a... shall we say... unconventional manner.

Boss started the pressuring. "So, Stinky and I figured that since the calves in his yards are obviously my calves, he will return them to me and we'll call it even. There's no point in wasting any more time. I have branding to do; he has meat to pack."

_[Narrator: 'Stinky' would normally be referred to as 'Chief Justice.' His friends called him Stinky because he did. Stink, that is. Everybody in Fort Morgan stank. That's the peril of living in a meatpacking town that doesn't receive strong winds. Any time he came into court, the chief justice had to change into freshly washed clothes that were kept there for that particular purpose. Court officials never knew what Chief Justice Vaughn was wearing under his robes, or if he were wearing anything at all. I'll give you a moment to erase the visual image of an old guy presiding over court wearing only his wrinkles under his robes. Boss had deliberately referred to the chief justice by his nickname to impress upon the sheriff that he was facing two old friends who between the two of them could make his life very miserable.]_

"Mr. Schnappe, I understand why you would want to do that. It simplifies matters considerably. But I can't do that. I have started an official investigation. Some person or persons have committed a crime. I can't close this investigation until I have determined who broke the law."

"But we know that Stinky didn't have anything to do with it."

"Legally, we don't know that Mr. Schnappe. The hobble remnants in his copter transports link his company to the rustling. I agree that his involvement is 'not likely', but that's not a legal term that I can use."

"But my calves are filling up his holding pens. Why don't I just take them back to the ranch and brand them. They'll be fine there."

"I'm sure they will be, Mr. Schnappe. But those calves are evidence. I am required to do certain things when evidence is collected. Am I not right, Chief Justice?" _[Evans was on solid legal ground here.]_

"Technically yes, Sheriff. But there are times when certain accommodations can be made to allow the course of justice to run more smoothly. I could write you an opinion that would allow you to agree to what Boss is offering to do."

"Chief Justice, you may have the authority to smooth the wheels of justice. I do not. Your kind offer of a written opinion would be useful if this were an issue currently facing the Supreme Court. But it is not a Supreme Court matter."

"Not yet," Stinky stank ominously.

"Plus your kind offer is politically dangerous," the sheriff warned.

"For you," Boss implied.

"No, it's politically dangerous for Chief Justice Vaughn. Currently, this investigation has one suspect. Chief Justice Vaughn. He must be considered a suspect until I can rule him out. I can rule him out when I catch the gang that rustled those calves. If it became known that a suspect in an investigation managed to bend some rules during that investigation, he would lose all credibility in any trial that followed. If the suspect were the chief justice of the Supreme Court, interfering in such a way could be grounds for investigating whether the honour of the Colorado Supreme Court had been tarnished. You must not interfere, Chief Justice, and you must not be seen to be interfering."

"Do you have any other suspects besides me?"

"No, not yet."

"Do you have any leads?"

"No, not yet."

"How long before you admit defeat?"

"The wheels of justice must turn slowly, Chief Justice. I have..."

"That's not good enough," Boss interrupted.

"You are a small detachment with limited experience in such matters and no real expertize other than helping citizens retrieve cats from trees." _[Stinky's comment was somewhat unkind, but true._ ]

"I agree that the Fort Collins detachment has some limitations, gentlemen. That's why I am turning the investigation over to the Director of the Ministry of Justice who has all the resources he'll need to solve this case. I have already spoken to him and he has agreed to put his top men to work on the case. While the case is under investigation, the calves will be taken to a secure area."

"I'm fine with the Ministry of Justice handling the case," Boss backed off. "Will the calves be in crowded pens?"

"I expect so. The Ministry of Justice has no cattle grazing facilities."

"I have fenced areas where they can graze," Stinky offered

"I'll pay you for the upkeep, Stinky."

"That's not necessary, Boss. I'll feed and water them since you have been such a valued customer ever since I bought the company."

_[Looks like the sheriff had escaped unscathed. Both men were in a good mood, and rightfully so. The key to the investigation had just been handed to Justin Justice who would bury the investigation so deep it would never see the light of day.]_

Well, not so fast. Sheriff Evans put an end to the good _moooood._ _[Before you accuse me of lying, I said there'd be no more cow puns. This is a moo pun.]_

"I hesitate to mention this, Chief Justice, as this is not a call that I can make. But are you aware that as a person of interest in a very large crime, you will likely have to recuse yourself from all cases coming in front of the Supreme Court until the investigation is ended?"

_['Recusing' meant that Stinky couldn't participate in any trials that came to the court. If he did participate, and if by some chance he were found guilty of rustling, any trials he had supervised would have to be redone. In some cases, that might be impossible. Supreme Court justices must be absolutely above the law. At least that's what Sheriff Evans had heard when he reached out for help from a former Denver lawman with impeccable credentials. That lawman had passed him on to a legal expert named Stu.]_

"I'll talk with the Minister of Justice about that. I'm sure that recusing won't be necessary."

_[Are you sure about that Stinky? Do you want to bet some big moolah?]_

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 12

Two days later, the chief justice was in Denver. He had emailed Lina Langevin, his court recorder, an assignment that required some discretion. Lina had emailed him back that she had found the answer to his question and he should meet with that answer Wednesday afternoon.

The meeting went very well, and afterwards, Stinky dined with the other four justices, something that they frequently did. Later that evening, Justin Justice came to the Ministry of Justice building for a 'quiet' meeting. 'Quiet' was code for secret. He was meeting with Stinky in Stinky's office, which was modestly small since his office was only needed when the Supreme Court met. Any group meetings among the justices that were needed were held in the back room of the courtroom itself - the place where verdict decisions were discussed.

One decision was being discussed right now.

"Recusing myself was the right decision," Stinky conceded. "I put a little pressure on Sheriff Evans but he was dead on with his warning. I didn't expect that from a small town sheriff. There was no point in going over his head to the Minister of Justice."

"Why am I here?"

"So that you and I can have a little chat."

"Is that wise? You could be seen as trying to interfere in the rustling investigation."

"Nobody will know that I'm here. We'll leave separately, as usual."

"This office isn't secure."

"Yes, it is. I asked Lina to find a specialist outside of government who could check for listening devices. She said that her former boyfriend worked in security for the NORAD base and she'd ask him if he wanted some off hours work. I met him today and he swept my office for bugs. He found nothing."

"How do you know he was legit?"

"He gave me a bug and told me to hide it anywhere on this floor while he stayed in my office. I hid it in Stretch's office. The NORAD guy had some fancy hand held tool that led him straight to the bug. That was impressive because I hid it deep under some papers in a filing cabinet. I had him sweep all of our offices and the courtroom just to be sure that nobody was listening in. All clean. Young guy. Slavic kind of face. I'm going to use him whenever I want to have a quiet meeting in the building."

"What's his name?"

"He wouldn't tell me because he was never here, which was a perfect answer. Lina can arrange for him to come in."

"Do you trust Lina?"

"I trust people who know that I can send them to jail if I want to. Lina isn't in position to say _No_ to any request I make. How are you handling the investigation?"

"I've assigned it to one of our ambitious, up-and-coming investigators who may suffer from lack of experience but will make up for it with low energy."

"Good. How long before you conclude that the case is unsolvable?"

"What's the rush?" Justin asked. "We know who was responsible for the rustling and we'll never be able to prove that."

"No rush, I guess. I can't sit in any cases but I can still run the court. I met with the other justices earlier this evening to make sure everybody was on the same page. We have nothing on the docket. I don't see how the cattle rustling hurt us."

"The investigation into the rustling won't hurt us. So what was the point of the rustling?"

"A warning, perhaps? I was invited to Hereford for a barbecue with our friends. We've done this before, so nobody would think anything about it. An open-air barbecue is completely safe. Our friends were concerned about how easily three hundred head of cattle had disappeared."

"But your meat packing company would never have taken those calves to slaughter. Nor would any other meat packing company. They weren't lost. They were just moved."

"Yes, that's the point I made. Nothing happened. We shouldn't be threatened by fake attacks."

...

"The anti-trust rulings are coming out this week," Justin Justice revealed.

"Any leaks?" Stinky asked

"I couldn't find any. Is anybody worried?"

"Boss is not concerned at all. By its nature, his cattle operation can't be hurt by anti-trust laws. You can't break up a single company that has only one dominant business. Most of his wealth comes from his cattle. He has other businesses, but his life is his cattle ranch. Boss doesn't care if he has to sell some of the small businesses. He'll use the cash to buy more cattle."

"The other two ranchers?"

"Not as locked into cattle as Boss. They're younger and eager to gain more wealth and power. With the Colorado economy growing now, they see that opportunities will be in owning small businesses in as many communities as possible and then making them grow. They want to see their businesses grow into big retail chains, for example. Some business up in Alberta started with one store that sold cloth and dye and the owners became very wealthy. Plus, the more businesses our friends own in the communities, the more they can control those communities. They can change the municipal laws to their advantage. These two are worried about having to sell off some of their more profitable businesses."

"The court ruling might allow them to make the decision what to sell."

"They're hoping for that," Stinky revealed.

"Still, having to sell means that they'll receive fair compensation for the sale. That was built into the legislation. How can they be hurt by being forced to sell a business at a fair price? They can reinvest that money elsewhere. There are bound to be lots of opportunities."

...

"I still don't see how we'll be hurt by anything the governor does to get back at us for his trial," Stinky repeated. "It's all smoke and mirrors. Threats that become meaningless, like the cattle rustling. They've gained nothing from that whatsoever."

_[Well, not so fast, Stinky. The cattle-rustling caper meant that you've just had secret meetings that weren't as secret as you thought they were.]_

### # # # # # # # #

Information on the anti-trust legislation was announced Friday morning April 20, 2091.

CBA rancher Boss Schnappe was ordered to sell half of his cattle to other small ranches that would benefit by having larger herds. These sales had to be completed by April 20, 2092. The exact number of forced sales would be determined from the most recent inventory of his cattle. In future years, the number of cattle that he could own could not exceed 30 per cent of the total cattle inventory in Colorado as recorded in his most recent tax filing. The sale price of individual cows and bulls would be determined by the Ministry of Economic Development based on the value of those cows and bulls as stated in his most recent tax filing.

CBA ranchers Llewellen Paup and Knute Krakul were ordered to sell all of their small, non-ranch related businesses by April 20, 2092. The sale price of each business would be determined by the Ministry of Economic Development based on the value of those businesses as stated in their most recent tax filing. The new owners of the businesses would have access to the Ministry of Economic Development's interest free loans to finance their purchases. The two ranchers were allowed to buy different established businesses or start up entirely new businesses with the proceeds from their sales. Or, the Ministry of Economic Development was prepared to advance them interest free loans provided that they registered with the Ministry and provided them with their company books for the last three years to prove their financial capability to repay.

All three companies could dispute any of the government's sale prices by providing the Ministry of Economic Development with a copy of their company books for the last three years which would reveal the companies' own valuations.

### # # # # # # # #

On the following Monday, the DCA filed a lawsuit for a _stay of proceedings_. A _stay_ is like a suspension. If a local judge approved their lawsuit for a stay, the Ministry of Economic Development would not be able to proceed with the sell orders they had announced. Those orders would be suspended until such time as a higher court removed the stay. That higher court might also rule that the orders for sales of businesses were illegal.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 13

The last time we were in Hell, Firewall had decided that he would go after Rat's money by goading him into killing his soul so that he and Focus Test could sneak into Rat's cave. He didn't think that robbing Rat would be as easy as Focus Test had predicted. Rat would have hidden his tormentts safely away.

Safely hidden was how Rat was feeling about his tormentts right now too. He had learned that sleeping in the vault wasn't as smart as he had thought. The first time he had let Dim Wit into the vault, it began screeching warnings. Rat became tired of the noise quickly, especially since the vault was perfectly safe. Nobody would ever get in.

Dim Wit thought otherwise. It kept circling near the ceiling, issuing its piercing alarms and charging at the air vent in the ceiling. When Rat didn't make the connection, the bird flew out of the vault, filled his mouth with bird seed from his food dish, re-entered the vault, and began to fly circles around the air vent. Then, it started dropping the seeds in its mouth one by one onto the floor of the vault.

It took two reloading trips and a stubby little pile of seeds on the floor under the vent before Rat caught on. Obviously, the bird thought that some devil could drop something through the ventilation system. A pellet of some kind perhaps? Something to disable him. Nonsense. "They'd never find the vent from outside," he told the bird. As if it could understand him.

Well, perhaps it could. Dim Wit darted down to perch on Rat's shoulder. Still emitting its jarring danger signal, it ripped a DNA scale from the back of his neck and flew to the front door, demanding release. Rat yelled at Meghan to let the nutcase out. He stayed in the vault - listening.

Soon, he heard Dim Wit's distant chirps and a few seconds later, his scale dropped out of the vent onto the floor. It could just as easily have been a poisonous gas pellet. Rat moved into his bedroom that night. He had no reason to retrieve the scale and forgot all about it.

_[Narrator: If you're keeping track, Heaven's southern outpost now had four of Rat's DNA scales. You may be wondering exactly how that fourth scale appeared on the vault floor. When Dim Wit left the cave, Arthur returned immediately afterwards in his shoulder demon form. He re-entered the vault, teleported a short distance into the air vent, made some soft chirping sounds, and dropped the scale through the vent.]_

### # # # # # # # #

Rat's mega-store was taking shape quickly. He had purchased and gutted a large factory many years ago. The location had been the key and he had paid premium rates for the property. To cover his start-up costs, Rat used the hog to move tormentts from his vault to the downtown branch of the Bank of Hell. He completed all these trips safely and without incident with Dim Wit perched on his helmet.

Rat didn't remember it, but he also used his hog to visit a remote suburb branch of the Bank of Hell. He didn't remember getting on the bike that was now stored on the stoop of his cave - Dim Wit's reputation giving the hog immunity from them theft. He didn't remember riding the hog with Dim Wit on his helmet to that suburb bank. He didn't remember going into that bank to open four personal accounts. He didn't remember why he had disguised the names of the account holder. He didn't remember the teller-soul lifting the edge of a scale on Rat's right wrist so that she could pass the DNA scanner against it when it accidentally came loose in her hands. He didn't remember accusing the teller-soul of tugging too hard on that DNA scale. He didn't remember the teller-soul calming him down by giving him a box of after-hours deposit bags for free. Perhaps this was a senior moment. Paula, on the other hand, remembered it clearly.

_[With Rat no longer personally guarding his vault, Paula and Arthur will continue to deposit bags of 1000-T coins into the four fake Rat accounts in the middle of the night. I won't tell you each time they do this.]_

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 14

At the end of April, the Wilizy's operation against the Supreme Court justices had entered a slow period. The case of the rustled calves was still under investigation and Chief Justice Stinky was still sidelined. Behind the scenes, the Wilizy had expanded their surveillance to include some surveillance of the DCA ranchers themselves. TG now knew about the barbecue meetings and he'd be at the next one to listen in. Sheila was using hidden pinky rings to record all the meetings that took place in the individual offices of the justices, in the courtroom, and in the back room of the courtroom. Since she was using current technology, all those conversations could be shared in any future court case involving The Supremes in living colour.

A few developments in May are worth sharing.

As you'll recall, the DCA had filed a lawsuit that attempted to stop the Ministry of Economic Development from going through with their anti-trust rulings. A local judge would hear the 'Stay' that they were attempting. Since Boss was a dominant figure in northeast Colorado, the DCA filed the suit there. Boss and Judge Andover had known each other for decades.

In Colorado, judges at this level were elected by the citizens in that area. This was intended to ensure that judges listened to and made decisions on what was best for local citizens. In theory that worked. But it also meant that certain local citizens could put a lot of pressure on judges to consider the impact of what the judges' decisions might mean for their prospects of winning the next election. Boss figured that he could steer [ _pun intended]_ Judge Andover into supporting the cattlemen's lawsuit. Fully 75 per cent of the local economy originated in the cattle industry.

On Friday May 11, Judge Andover rule that the local cattle industry would benefit from more competition. If the smaller ranches had more ability to grow, they would create more jobs for local citizens in all occupations. That would ripple positively through the northeast. He further argued that the DCA owners would not be hurt financially because the ruling from the Ministry of Economic Development was giving them new capital to invest from the sale of some of their existing businesses. That would allow them expand their operations in a non-monopolistic manner and thereby assist in the economic development of the area. Furthermore, he argued, the Cattlemen's Association had been given the ability to negotiate the sale prices if they felt that they were too low. The final sentences in his ruling were clear and concise.

_"The anti trust rulings issued on Friday, April 20, 2091 by the Ministry of Economic Development are eminently fair and will benefit all citizens and businesses in Northeast Colorado. The request for a stay in the application of those rulings is denied. The Ministry of Economic Development may proceed as they have planned."_

On Monday, May 14, the DCA filed a lawsuit in a Colorado regional court for a stay in Judge Andover's ruling.

### # # # # # # # #

In May, Stook took the mineral rights laws that Stu had drafted and presented them to the Legislature for discussion and passing. That process was expected to take a month. They did not expect any resistance from the DCA because mining was not something that any of them were interested in.

### # # # # # # # #

Back in Hell, Rat's responsibilities for getting the store ready were over. Meghan would do the rest of the work from now on. She had made good enough progress that a weekend away from her duties could be justified. The hectic pace of opening a new store had meant that Rat couldn't afford to have her off duty. But, that was before. Today, Rat was bored and frustrated by being prevented from torturing her for weeks. Fortunately, at least for Rat, tomorrow was a Friday.

Focus Test and Firewall Freddie were frustrated too. They had painted lime green and pink circles on the pavement in front of Rat's cave, on the route between him and his new store, and even on the plywood boards surrounding the construction site. Rat had to have seen the graffiti. He was commuting between his cave and the construction site daily in his brand new, black leather jump suit with the stupid bird perched on the helmet. But his soul remained alive. That might still change because tomorrow was a Friday. When the call came for a soul pickup, both of them were ready to react fast.

Fast was what Arthur was thinking too, as in fast food. It wasn't that Meghan didn't feed him; she did. But she fed him bird food. A full-grown angel can't exist on seeds, so Arthur decided to scrounge.

Dim Wit's perch above Rat's front door was high enough, and deep enough, that he could roost there without being seen. After several days of establishing this little cubbyhole as his sentry post, he beaked a hole through to the outside that would explain his absence if they found him missing from the cave.

The fast food outlets in the mall became Arthur's favorite source of food. Disdaining leftover scraps, he abducted entire cheeseburgers, full cartons of fries, even fully loaded tacos. The devils could do nothing to protect themselves because he was stalking them from above the murk and they couldn't see him dive-snatching until it was too late. Naturally, a lot of devils were becoming upset with him - and with the Rat.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 15

"Do you see what that stupid bird let Firewall do?"

The avian target of Rat's ire was perched on a chrome handlebar of Rat's hog. A freshly painted hog. The fresh paint was a shocking pink and lime green set of concentric circles on both sides of the gas tank and on the rear fender.

Rat was in mid-rant. The graffiti against the Rat had increased in the last couple of weeks, but none of the previous locations had affected him so badly. Meghan asked another question to keep Rat's tail from stiffening even further. "Where did it happen?"

"Outside the bank. The stupid bird was patrolling, saw the whole thing, and never raised an alarm. I would have been back outside in seconds if it had raised an alert."

"Guess it didn't think you were in danger."

It was an innocent comment, really. And certainly the correct conclusion. Dim Wit was on patrol for threats against Rat's personal safety. A fresh paint job on the hog - especially one that dried quickly and could not be removed without damaging the hog's shiny finish - was not a threat to Rat's safety. However, being correct didn't help Meghan. She knew as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she had gone too far. Working so closely with the Rat had blurred the line between devil and tortured soul.

Rat turned on his cleft, leaving his unappreciated object d'art where it was, and stormed upstairs. Meghan went upstairs too - to the office. She wasn't surprised that Rat was elsewhere.

Ten minutes later, he poked his head into the office and commanded, "Hobby room."

### # # # # # # # #

"Skreee, skreee." Dim Wit completed another rapid, noisy pass between Rat and Meghan in the hobby room. "Skreee, skreee." High danger. Rat paused in mid step, ready to hand the perfume atomizer to Meghan so she could dose herself. He stepped back as the bird scorched past his face.

Rat automatically assumed that Meghan had said something to Dim Wit while she had been alone in the office with him. "You told the bird to protect you? I warned you what would happen if you displeased me!"

"I didn't do this! Dim Wit: stand down!" When there was no pause in the bird's swoops, she said it again, more frantically. "Dim Wit: stand down." And, just in case the bird had forgotten its new name - "Dimitry: stand down!" Still, no change. "You tell it!"

Well, Rat's command was ignored as well. If anything, the bird became more audacious - diving so close to Rat's body that he was forced to step back a pace or two.

"Tell him to protect you!"

Rat did, but that brought about only a brief pause in Dim Wit's challenges. It lit on Rat's shoulder for an instant and then was back up in the air, again filling the small padded room with its cries of danger.

"It believes it's protecting you." Meghan voiced the obvious conclusion. Rat continued to flinch - his drooping tail pressed against the door.

"From you?" Rat jumped to the obvious conclusion. "You have a concealed weapon! The bird caught you! Let me see it."

"I don't have any weapon. See?" Meghan pulled her smock up to her neck and rotated slowly. "If I were the threat, the bird would be attacking me, not pushing you away."

And then, she caught on.

"It can't protect you from this threat. That's why it's pushing you away. That's what the instructions sheet said it would do."

"Nonsense. You flatter yourself. You're not that much of a threat."

"I'm not the threat! There's another threat. See, it's still trying to push you away." Indeed, Dim Wit was now flying directly at Rat at floor level and pulling up at the last possible minute. Rat had taken to crouching down, both hands in front of his face, the atomizer on the padded floor.

"Open the door and step outside. See if it stops."

The noise stopped immediately. Dim Wit glided to the atomizer, talonized it, and flew into the far corner of the room where it deposited the bottle carefully on the foam padding, nestled in front of it, and began chirping.

"So, it is protecting you. It knows the chemicals will kill you and it's stopping me from giving you the bottle. You taught it a new command."

"I haven't done anything. The last command was for it to protect you! It's doing that!"

Rat's snort revealed how much he believed that claim.

"I'll prove it." Meghan started to take tiny steps towards the bird.

"Dim Wit: stand down. Dimitry: stand down. Let me have the bottle. Dim Wit, you're not protecting me. Dim Wit, I want the bottle."

The soothing, but desperate entreaties persisted as Meghan crossed the room. But as soon as she reached the middle of the room, the bird sprang into the air and resumed the warnings. As she steadily inched across the padding, the bird began diving at her, passing inches from her body sleeve.

Unflinching, Meghan ventured into the corner and bent down next to the atomizer. The bird was going ballistic - flying in increasingly more rapid and noisy circles at the top of the room. "Dim Wit: stand down. Dimitry: stand down. Let me have the bottle. Dim Wit, you're not protecting me. If you don't give me the bottle, you'll make it worse for me. Dim Wit, let me have the bottle." She grasped the handle, turned, and began to rise.

A large heavy avian body plummeted into her belly at high speed, stunning her, and knocking her to the floor. She dropped the bottle. A canary picked up the atomizer and flew out the open door.

### # # # # # # # #

"I'm immune to the chemicals in the perfume. Why would it be protecting me from something that I'm immune to? I tell you it was stopping me from torturing you," Rat insisted.

They were standing in the living room, trying to understand the bird's behaviour. The bird in question was nestled inside the cover of the overhead light, the atomizer a dark blob beside it.

"But, I was safe from the atomizer as soon as it was out of your hands," Meghan reminded Rat. "It wouldn't make sense for it to continue to warn me about getting too close to an atomizer that couldn't squirt perfume. Dim Wit still warned me about getting close to the atomizer, tried to stop me, and then attacked me. It was following its last command: to protect you."

Silence except for some irritating 'singing' in the background.

Meghan continued to search for solutions. Rat's mind was already closed.

"Let's say, for discussion purposes, that the perfume and the atomizer were not the threat. What if the threat came after the perfume was used?"

"Your death isn't a threat. I'll just lose two days of productivity. We're on schedule for the opening. There's no danger to the store or to me."

"Tell me what happens after you kill me."

Rat described the routine for sending her and receiving her from HISS. She asked further questions about the restoration machines and what happened when she was undergoing treatment. Satisfied at last, she explained. "The bird was protecting you. I can think of three threats to your safety if I were killed and delivered to HISS. A devil probably would come up with more."

Rat nodded for her to continue and she began.

"Threat #1: You have to open the cave door to let the van delivery devil get my body."

Rat quickly interrupted. "I didn't let him in last time. I put you outside myself."

"You're still vulnerable because you have to open the door. A waiting team of devils could easily force their way inside while you were dumping my body. The peep hole doesn't allow you to see anybody hiding at the side of the door."

Rat shook his head. "Dim Wit..."

"Dim Wit might not be able to protect you if they wore special armor. Threat #2: You don't know who will pick up my body or where they'll take me. Even if I'm delivered to HISS, you'd have no way of knowing what is happening to me while I am being restored."

"You think they might torture information out of you while you're semi-conscious? It might work. They could stop you from warning me by killing you again and then restoring your memory from before the torture." Rat just automatically assumed that she'd warn him - confident in his hold over her. "Still, you don't know what they really need to know."

"I know your routines and I know the inside of the cave. That may be all they need."

"You said three threats."

"Let's assume that they take me to HISS as usual. But they may not bring ME back to the cave. How would you know if the body sleeve that they returned to you had another soul inside of it? The fake me would only need a few unsupervised seconds to open your front door."

### # # # # # # # #

_Did you know about any of those threats, Arthur?_

Paula was the one to ask the question. She and Winnie had been watching the events in Rat's cave unfold from the apartment via Winnie's bot.

Arthur: _No, I was just trying to stop him from torturing Meghan. I didn't think we needed to see that again._

Paula: _I don't know anything about this HISS thing. Do you guys?_

Arthur: _No._

Winnie: _Me neither. I'll check some computer directories for more information._

Paula: _Did you see how quickly she identified those threats?_

Winnie: _I think she was scared. I found HISS. It stands for Health Improvement Soul Services._

Arthur: _Why would she be scared? She has to be used to the torture by now._

### # # # # # # # #

"You won't be able to torture me to death any more," Meghan said in neutral tones. "You know that some devil is bound to think that he is smart enough to slip by your cave security and Dim Wit."

"All he'd have to do is poison some French fries," Rat said bitterly. "I'm getting a lot of heat about that stupid bird."

"You could still torture me, but not to death."

"The poisons can wait. I have another way to torture you."

"I've done everything you've asked. Your camera will prove that I've kept my end of the bargain."

"I have to torture you or you'll be repossessed."

"I have the marketing experience to make Rat*Mart the busiest store in Hell."

"Good. You're now in charge of marketing. But, that doesn't alter anything. Souls have to be tortured. That's the law in Hell."

"What if I weren't a soul anymore? I could be your apprentice demon instead."

Rat took off his steel-rimmed glasses, polished the lenses slowly, and put them back on.

"If you were my apprentice, I could reduce your torture. But you'd have to torture other souls."

"I can do that. Put me in charge of the staff at the store."

"Apprentice demons have to torture humans too."

A long pause. Rat smiled and started to rise. The discussion was over. "You can't torture humans from Hell and I'm not going to let you go to Earth."

"Do you know what I did when I was alive?"

"Salesclerk or something at a local Wal*Mart."

"More than that. I was a pharmacist."

"And that's going to help you how?"

"I know how you can make your perfume kill more slowly."

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie: _Whoa! I didn't see that coming._ _Do either of you know anything about their bargain?_

Paula: _I don't. Whatever the other torture is, it's a doozie. This soul doesn't scare easily._

Arthur: _I haven't heard about a bargain. I guess that answers the question of whether Meghan is good or evil._ _Joe-Joe was right. There's no such thing as 'good' in Hell_.

Winnie: _Then, why is she trying to rescue me? I know how to find out for sure if she's good or evil._

Paula: _How?_

Winnie: _Purgatory.net has a list of all of Hell's inhabitants including souls. I'll get some data on her and we can ask Heaven._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 16

The regional court for the northeast district of Colorado met in the first week of June to hear arguments both for and against the rulings handed down by the Ministry of Economic Development. Three judges would determine the legality of the new laws. A simple majority would suffice.

The judges for regional courts were appointed by the Ministry of Justice. They served five year terms and could be re-appointed if the Ministry and the Judge agreed. These were convened rarely and, if convened, they dealt with suits that affected their own region. By and large, the members of the regional courts were there because they knew the law. Thus, it should come as no surprise to my readers that the regional court upheld the rulings against the three DCA companies. Here's their ruling.

"There is no question that the companies that the Ministry of Economic Development have ordered to sell portions of their businesses are currently monopolistic conglomerates. Furthermore, anti-trust legislation in principle has a long history of being appropriate in such situations. The anti-trust legislation as promulgated by the Ministry of Economic Development provides suitable options that can eliminate monopolies and encourage local economies. The forced divestures are neither unreasonable nor prejudicial to the companies involved since the companies will receive capital that they can put to use in appropriate ways to stimulate local economies. We saw nothing illegal or inappropriate in the anti-trust legislation from of the Ministry of Economic Development. The request for a stay in the application of those rulings is denied. The Ministry of Economic Development may proceed as they have planned."

### # # # # # # # #

The regional court ruling was announced on Friday, June 8. On Saturday, Boss Schnappe held a small private barbecue to discuss options. The finest legal mind in Colorado would also be there invisibly listening. Stinky would be present too. He would be visible and smellable. Here are snippets of Boss and Stinky's conversation.

Stinky: "Who ever drew up this legislation knows his law. It's virtually impossible to find a reason to overturn it."

Stu would have blushed, but he wasn't the type. TG gave him a soundless clap on his back.

"You said _virtually_?"

"You could argue that government should not be interfering in normal business. If a company has a history of success, why should it be punished? After all, it's creating jobs. Its value is to the local community and not itself."

"That argument sounds good to me. We should appeal on Monday."

"An honest supreme court would tear that argument to shreds. They'd ask for evidence of how many jobs were created directly and indirectly. The jobs the three of you create are limited to the jobs on the ranches and the jobs on my meat packing company. All the meat itself is shipped out of state. This means that your ranches are providing limited benefit to local economies. Plus, they'll ask to see your books. You can't risk that. They'll see the size of your personal profits and they'll find evidence of your bribes."

"But, our supreme court won't ask those questions, right? Why shouldn't we appeal. We know we're going to win."

"In the hearings for public issues such as this, the court will hear argument from both sides. A justice is free to interrupt at any time during the testimony to ask questions. We have two justices who are bound to ask those types of questions. Once a question is asked, the lawyer must respond and these two justices can rightfully demand to see the evidence. In a public hearing, those questions will resonate and you folks can't provide a believable answer. If the court came out with a ruling in favour of the monopolies, the governor would have ample reason to dismiss the members of court for cause."

"I thought you were appointed for life."

"But not if we commit crimes."

"So, why don't you tell all the justices what to do and what to ask and not ask. You're in charge. Make them fall in line."

"I can't be there."

"What would happen if those two justices had accidents?"

"The Supreme Court can't sit with only two justices. If the Supreme Court can't meet, the lower court's ruling will stand."

"Can we bribe those two justices?"

"Both of those justices were extremely upset with the non-public trials we held on the governor and his doxy. They argued very strongly that the trials were illegal because the prosecutor and the defense attorney were both from the Ministry of Justice. The vote to convict was three to two. They can't say anything about that case because of the Secrets Act that they signed when they joined the court. In this situation, they're not bribable and they won't rule against the lower court."

"We have to follow the law?"

"Yes, you do. But, why would you care? They're forcing you to exchange some of your holdings for a big pile of cash. Why would you object to that?"

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 17

_When interior decorators go rogue._

Those words were running through Ante Up's mind as he wandered through Firewall and Focus' new cave. Firewall was upstairs drilling a hole through the outside wall to give sight lines for the telescope. The hole was right under the eaves so it wouldn't be noticed. Focus Test was somewhere researching ways to kill the bird.

When yet another Friday night had brought no order for a dead soul pickup at Rat's cave, Focus Test had called another meeting. The graffiti circles weren't working. They needed to increase the pressure on Rat so that he'd kill the soul. They all agreed that Firewall should be put in charge of that project because he knew Rat the best.

Ante Up suggested that they look for another way into Rat's lair in case Rat didn't kill the soul again. He also suggested a surveillance post so that they could look for patterns in Rat's comings and going. The choice of caves with a view of Rat's door was quite limited. They were stuck with this one.

Fluffy, red draperies with a repetitive black trident design covered some fake windows with a view of Hell's smoking inferno faux-painted onto the cave wall. The black wrought iron rods with dripping blood-red finials were partially masked by the scalloped curves of the flounces on the coordinating valence. The seating accommodations in the main room were covered in a red and black striped stain-proof fabric with lots of red tassels. A variety of various-shaped black and red toss cushions littered the seats. Fringes were in the same abundance as hidden cameras at nudist beaches.

Fortunately, the lighting was quite poor. The small red sixty-watt bulbs concealed within the human skull sconces on the walls shone dimly through the eye and nose holes. Cracking the heads open would have provided more light, but the decorator had been going for a muted look.

The feature wall had a fireplace with an angel mannequin impaled on a spit. When the fake fire was turned on, the fake angel rotated over fake flame. The space above the mantel was dominated by two crossed cattle prods. Track lighting on the ceiling provided the necessary illumination to attract the visitor's eye.

The rest of the cave was just as bad, if not worse. "Just another reason," Ante Up had said, "why female devils should have their own Hell."

Ante Up was examining the cattle prods, wondering if they worked, when Focus Test burst through the front door carrying a small box with air holes.

### # # # # # # # #

"It's shredding that pillow."

"Good. If anything deserved to be shredded, it would be that pillow. Or, anything else in this..." Ante Up searched for an appropriate word and failed. He tossed another pillow to the creature.

"What is it, exactly?"

"Mostly cougar, I think. Tough to know - it's still very young."

"Those pillows won't last long," Firewall observed. "Here Pussy Cat, try this nice couch." Firewall ran his hands over the fabric covering the corner of the loveseat. The creature bounded over and began clawing out tufts of upholstery.

"This place is beginning to look better already." Ante Up had been a vocal critic of the rental cave and refused to move in. He didn't want to be associated with the four deadly devilette faults: flounces, frills, fluffs, and fringes. The other two thought that was rather pretentious given that Ante Up was shaped like a fire hydrant.

"How'd you get the cat?" Firewall asked.

"I found it when I was searching for a bird killer. A pop up announcement offered me a free trial period for a guard animal. If I didn't like it, I could return it. The cat was delivered to the tattoo shop this afternoon."

The three of them stood in a semi-circle watching the couch's destruction. Bored, the creature peered malevolently at the draperies and climbed one of the panels. It perched on the valence, leaned over, and started batting at a tassel with a paw.

"It's too small to fight Rat's bird," Focus warned.

Bored again, the creature sprang from the top of the valence to the back of the sofa and from there to the ground. It went over to the door and began scratching.

"It wants to go out." Firewall's programming mind was quite adept at determining 'if... then' logical leaps.

"Looks like it," Ante Up agreed.

"Should we let it out?"

"Let's wait a bit." The trio sauntered over to watch the buzz saw in action. A small pile of sawdust was collecting at the base of the door.

"Scratching helps cats keep their claws sharp," Firewall remembered from his mortal days.

By now, deep gouges appeared in the wood. A pair of sharp teeth started pulling slivers of wood away from the rapidly deepening aperture.

Focus added information from the instruction sheet that had accompanied the mutant. "It comes with two main commands: 'Attack' and 'Stand down'. After it captures its prey, there are four more commands: Release, injure, maim, and kill. It also knows how to stalk."

The three watched the baby cougar in action against a solid oak door - imagining what those teeth and claws would do to a bird.

### # # # # # # # #

Arthur was lying on his back, four legs curled back in repose, purring vigorously as Focus Test scratched under his chin and Firewall rubbed his belly. Winnie hadn't had a chance yet to install drones into Firewall's cave, so she had to ask mentally.

Winnie: _What are you doing, Arthur?_ ]

Arthur: _Clawing a hole all the way through a thick piece of wood is demanding work. I'm giving myself a little 'cat nap.'_

Winnie: _How's that going for you?_

Arthur: _Purrfectly._

Winnie: _Good one. Paula's back from Heaven. Do you have any more purr puns?_

Arthur: _Purrhaps._

Winnie: _Purrfidious creature!_

Arthur: _A pun fight will just spurr me on._

Paula: _Whenever the two of you are ready, I'll give you my report._

Winnie: _I'm out of purr puns. We didn't come up with enough to CATalog._

Arthur: _Cat puns are out of bounds. I had one more waiting. Cats belong in purr-gatory. Game, set and match to Arthur._

Winnie: Paula, d _id that information on Meghan help Joe-Joe find Heaven's information on Meghan?_ ]

Arthur: Can you remind me of Heaven's information?

Winnie: _Meghan O'Hara, lived in Halifax, arrived in Hell November 15, 2090, her sin was murder. Does that agree with Meghan's HEE, Paula?_

Paula: _Joe-Joe said that according to her HEE, Meghan O'Hara of Halifax is currently alive on Earth and would easily advance into Heaven if she were to die._

Winnie: _That doesn't make sense. She's obviously here._

Arthur began play-fighting with Firewall's hand. As part of that, he clawed deeply enough into his wrist that Firewall let out a little yelp. Arthur flipped over and began batting the DNA scale around the floor until it slid under the couch. _[I'll pick up the scale later. Let's meet in the amusement park tonight.]_

### # # # # # # # #

_[Narrator: The 'Amusement Park' was how Arthur was referring now to the dead electronic zone. One of the reasons that he did this was because of the Ferris wheel torture pit. Centuries ago, the Ferris wheel was considered an exiting ride in earthly amusement parks. It consisted of an upright wheel that rotated. Attached to the wheel were passenger seats that swayed back and forth. Since the wheels were very big, a ride on it took passengers high into the air and then down to the ground level and then high into the air and so on. By the 1900's, it was entertaining but not threatening, except perhaps for young children who were not allowed on the ride since they could slip out of the seat. But back in medieval times, the Ferris wheel could be considered torture, especially if it spun quickly]._

_[On the topic of torture, Arthur continued to have images of flames flash through his mind when he was near the trolley car torture pit. The images were disconcerting enough that Arthur avoided that particular pit whenever he could.]_

That evening, Paula, Arthur and Winnie met to try and figure out how Meghan O'Hara could be in Hell and alive on Earth at the same time. Paula suggested that there might be two Meghan O'Hara women who lived in Halifax.

Arthur pointed out that it didn't matter if there was another mortal with that name in Halifax. The Meghan O'Hara that was going to help Rat increase the strength of his poison was here in Hell. That wouldn't matter if they defeated Rat.

Winnie said that it did matter if the Megan soul were here by mistake because that could affect her plans.

Arthur pointed out that Winnie had been sent to Heaven by mistake. What if Heaven had made another mistake with Meghan's HEE record? Obviously, she was here in Hell. She was a murderer. They had heard her offer to help Rat torture more harshly. They should treat her as evil. That way, she couldn't surprise them.

The three of them agreed to ignore Heaven's records. They also agreed that they should ignore Meghan's offer to help Winnie escape. Capturing Winnie in an attempt to escape would make Meghan look very good in Rat's eyes. Promotion time!

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 18

Rat was as cantankerous as an octopus trying to put on a turtleneck.

It's the day after Meghan had raised the idea of her becoming Rat's apprentice demon. She was now an apprentice demon, as evidenced by the pair of cigarillo tips attached to her head by a strap under her chin. The price of the real training horns was outrageous! Rat had filed her apprentice papers that morning and had given her the first three letters in her demonic name: DBN, pronounced as DeBin. He'd add the other consonants as she progressed through the training. She had no idea what the name would become.

Meghan was in the cave office, listening to Rat _harp_ ing on about the painted circles that had been painted on his hog. Well, Rat wouldn't use that particular word - it was another banned epithet. Harps are used in Hell as often as bidets. But in truth, he was harping. His apprentice demon tried to distract him. "Why did you choose to imitate a Wal*Mart store?"

"Wal*Mart is well known in Hell, so I figured I'd cash in on their name. Plus, a business model that pulverizes local competition in a relentless search for increased profits is exactly what I wanted."

"Did you consider any other names?"

"What does this have to do with circle graffiti being spread all over Hell?" If she weren't careful, Rat would begin re-strumming his harp.

"Whoever is doing this..."

"Firewall is doing this."

"Firewall is doing this for..."

"He's not alone. There are two others as well."

_[Rat had paid a member of the con &stab-ulary to search through the security cameras for the devils who had been painting circle graffiti all over Hell. Most con&stab-ables were desperate to demonstrate that they were evil enough to belong in Hell. Accepting bribes was an easy way to avoid the taint of being good.]_

"Firewall has a friend named Focus Test who works in Media Manipulation. He also owns a tattoo shop where they get the paint. The third one resembles a fire hydrant. I don't have a name for him yet, but I will soon."

"Firewall and his two partners...." Rat nodded approval. "...are doing this for a reason. Firewall probably wants to get back at you for firing him. The stocky devil is after your tormentts. They probably all are."

Another nod.

"They are hoping that the graffiti will cause you to do something that will leave you vulnerable. Like killing me."

Another nod. So far, she had said nothing that Rat didn't already know.

"They think the circles would embarrass you in front of others."

No nod this time. No devil would ever admit that he could be embarrassed.

"But what if the graffiti helped you? Firewall's team can't hurt you if you want them to paint pink and green circles all over SinSin-atti."

"I don't care if they spread these stupid circles all over Hell!" Huffy, indignant. "But, when they depreciate the value of my hog..."

"They did you a favor, especially with the hog. They've given you a mobile billboard to advertise your brand."

Rat's mind shifted. Advertising meant Media Manipulation. "The Media Manipulation director hired Firewall after I fired him. Perhaps she had been waiting for just that moment. What if she were the brains behind them?"

DBN interrupted Rat's paranoiac musings. Paranoiac but not unreasonable. In Hell, everybody is out to get you. "You can cut the costs of all your advance advertising with two simple decisions."

Rat snapped back to attention. She had said the magic words. _Cut costs._ "What two decisions?"

"One: Change the name of your store from Rat*Mart to Rat*Target. Two: Print your store's new name on labels and stick the labels in the middle of all of their green and pink circles. All devils know about Earth's target stores and their circle logo. They'll see the graffiti and think, _I should go shopping_."

### # # # # # # # #

Rat took the DBN's suggestion under advisement, weighed the pros and cons, and rejected her idea. However, he did come up with his own idea for using these target images, as he had been dubbing them since they first appeared in Hell. He'd rename his store _Rat's Target_ and he'd have DBN paint that name on the hog. Smack dab in the center of the target image would be a good place. The hog would become his mobile advertising billboard. Then, he'd have her convert all the other graffiti in AtroCity into advertisements for his store too. Printing off sticky labels would make that easy. She could dress in a black leather jump suit, wear his helmet, and ride around the city on his hog. Everybody would assume that she was him and leave her alone. No devils could nab her if she had the bird with her.

You may be wondering why DBN had suggested Rat*Target when Rat's Target was an obviously better name. She knew it was a better. Apprentice demon rule #1 says: _Always make a little mistake so that your dumb devil supervisor can correct you and show you how smart he is._

### # # # # # # # #

Surveillance of the conspirators was much easier now that Firewall and Focus were living together. Winnie had had camera surveillance on them for quite some time of course, and now had eyes inside their rental. Paula was following them around, but it would be quite easy for Focus and Firewall to meet privately inside their work place. The angels were hoping that they'd have all their meetings in the rented cave now.

Arthur was keeping a feline eye on the conspirators when they were home but he was spending most of his time as Dim Wit because Rat was the biggest challenge to the plan. As Dim Wit, he was also keeping an eye on Meghan. He didn't believe she'd be a threat to the operation, but prudence dictated that she be watched. That would be relatively easy since she seemed to like the bird.

Arthur had influenced Rat to teach Dim Wit some new commands starting with a hand signal for _Come_. But, Rat also wanted the bird to protect his hog so Arthur influenced him to teach the bird the _Guard_ command and an associated hand signal. This wasn't a case of closing the sty after the hog had gotten out. Rat would need these commands soon. The training had been agonizingly slow. Rat may have been as cute as his fungus-coated toenail clippings, but he was only half as smart. Fortunately, Meghan was in the training session and so Rat eventually learned the two hand signals Arthur had chosen for Rat to teach him.

### # # # # # # # #

Meghan arrived home Thursday afternoon in a good mood after slapping Rat's Grand Opening stickers on all the lime green and pink graffiti circles she had been able to find. At an opportune time, she'd suggest that they get some spray paint cans with his store colors. Plenty of prime advertising spaces were still available in AtroCity, including the back of the leather jacket she was wearing.

While Meghan was removing her helmet and leather uniform, Dim Wit fluttered off to his jury-rigged broomstick perch and started pecking away at the seeds in his dish.

"That was a good job, Dim Wit. Are you as hungry as I am?" Meghan peered into the dish. "Getting a little low, I see." She disappeared into the kitchen, and returned shortly afterwards carrying the cast-iron frying pan that protected a cache of birdseeds. Plastic and paper containers had not proven effective against Dim Wit's insistent attempts to eat more seeds than he was allowed. Two days ago, she had placed them in the frying pan, put a lid on it, and stored it in the bottom of the stove - safe from even Dim Wit.

Meghan began dribbling more seeds into his dish, all the while keeping up a conversational chatter. "Wasn't that fun on the hog? Do you enjoy being a hood ornament? Oops, I guess that would be a helmet ornament." Finished with the seeds, she pulled the frying pan away from the perch. "You know, Dim Wit, you really hurt me when you stopped Rat from torturing me. You shouldn't have gotten in my way." And with that, she crushed his skull with the frying pan.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 19

_Narrator Interlude:_

_Hell needs female devils like dripping snot needs tissues. Just close one nostril and blow it out your nose._

_You've heard how Ante Up wished that female devils had their own Hell. Some readers may have also noticed that the masculine pronoun 'he' has been used exclusively in this book when referring to Hell's population. "He" pretty well describes the gender situation in Hell._

_Some female readers will be thinking "Ha. Told you so! All men -living or dead - are evil scum." However, that's not the reason why Hell is seen as predominantly male._

_Readers may be surprised to find that a roughly equal number of female souls are in the torture pits as males; furthermore, both genders are equally successful in finding ways to slither out of the torture pits. And to complete the picture, as many female demons are torturing humans on Earth as there are males. However, female demons rarely are promoted to the rank of Devil let alone to upper management._

_"Unfair," you say. Well, ... yes. Does that actually surprise you? I mean, this is Hell we're talking about. Sure, officially, Hell has 'equal opportunity employment standards' whereby all demons, regardless of gender, have an equal opportunity to be placed in the plum jobs on Earth and to advance all the way up through the hornocracy. But, in practice, Hell doesn't work that way. Hell is run by an 'old boys' network. The upper echelons are staffed by former bankers and corrupt CEOs. Uhhh.... How many female bank presidents are there on Earth, anyway? Go ahead. Name five corrupt female CEOs! So, why would these good ol' boys treat what they refer to as 'demonettes' and 'devilettes' any differently from how they treated the gender on Earth?_

_In spite of these obstacles, some 'devilettes' do insinuate themselves into upper management ranks - the Director of Hell's Media Manipulation Division is one prime example. But, she was in a 'touchy-feely' torture sindustry - a sector that most devils would consider as 'soft torture' as opposed to what real devils would do._

_Female devils don't make it any easier for their gender. Rank and file female devils marginalize themselves. Their idea of entrepreneurship is to go into interior decorating, which is not a sustainable sindustry in a male afterlife where the dominant philosophy is 'let's keep the place as disgusting as we can.'_

_Interior decorating isn't the only desperate employment option for female devils. Dental hygienists are equally disrespected. Even the clawdicure shops are deserted - most devils just gnaw their claws even. Some entrepreneurettes have tried to offer training courses that they've advertised as follows:_

_• Back Biting, Malicious Gossip, and Character Assassination: The Three Insidious Tools._

_• Don't confuse Manipulation with Chiropractic Treatment: Energize those Feminine Wiles._

_• Vocal Training: How to Incessantize your Talking._

_• Nutritional green bean soup variations: Think TOFU_

_These courses didn't attract huge interest._

_Some female devils have tried their hands at counseling - offering to help torturholics, for example. But since no excess is considered unhealthy in Hell, the only clients they attracted were other counselors. Asking the question 'So, how do you feel about not having any clients?' became boring after a while._

_If that weren't bad enough, female devils have the same two frailties as female humans. They collect stuffed animals and their favorite word is 'Cute.' "Oh, isn't that so cute!" How many times have you heard that phrase on Earth? How well do you think it goes over in Hell? About as well as pink, fluffy, stuffed animals._

_Fortunately for female devils, or unfortunately as readers may wish to look at it, a new breed of female devils will be in Hell. And, as the reader has already seen, the modern apprentice demonette has no compunction about dealing quickly and effectively with mortals, immortals, or mutants that get in her way._

### # # # # # # # #

"Have you seen Santa?" Firewall peered under the sofa before asking Focus Test again. "Have you seen Santa?"

Their first choice of a name for their new pet was actually _Claws_. This was sufficiently violent for a male name in a male afterlife. Then Focus had a wicked idea. "Why don't we call him _Santa Claw_ s?" The word ' _Santa_ ' wasn't actually on Hell's proscribed list, but it was frowned on by the old rank and file devils. That had sealed the decision. When they wanted to offend, they'd call their pet by his full name. At home in the cave, he'd be _Santa_.

"Come Santa." Firewall started roaming through the cave, calling out "Come Santa. Come Santa."

Santa was still missing when Ante Up arrived, ready to start the puddy tat's training. They all did another tour of the cave and wandered up and down the street calling his name.

It was Ante Up who noticed that there was no 'come' command on the sheet of instructions from Mutants R'Us. No surprise. Mortal cats never respond to that kind of command. Why should Santa be unlike other cats? They tried opening cans of cat food and waving them around in the air to spread the fishy aroma. Still, no Santa. They didn't think of ripping the seal off a Cheesie bag. Normally, that would have worked, but Arthur was tied up at the moment.

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie _: Arthur, I'm here. Are you OK?_

Arthur: _Ow! That smarted._

Winnie: _Your skull is all crushed in. Meghan is tying you to your perching rod with strips of duct tape. Everything below your neck is tied tight._

Arthur: _That's why I can't move my wings._

Winnie: _You look dead, but she's tying you up. Now she's picking up a pair of scissors. This does not look good. Paula is here too._

Arthur: _I should be able to burst this tape. Don't do anything. We don't want her to know about you._

Winnie: _She must know that you're not dead. Let's see where she's going with this. She's already crushed your skull. What else can she do?_

### # # # # # # # #

DBN lowered a partially opened pair of tiny scissors until the sharp points touched the bird's closed eyelids. She spoke to the dead body in a low whisper. "I know you're in there. And I know you're still alive, even if this body is dead. I also know that you can get out of these restraints. But, can you do that before I plunge these scissors into your brain?"

No response.

"Want to try?"

A miniscule shake of the head. She raised the scissors a bit, and the shake was repeated, more emphatically this time.

"Open your eyes."

Two sentient eyes focused on the tips of the scissors. The bird's heart resumed beating and its skull returned to its normal shape.

"Can you talk when you're in this body?"

Another negative head shake.

"Good. That means that you can devote your entire brain to listening to me."

A nod this time.

"I know what you really are. I know what you're after. I'm after something too - something different. You got in my way when you prevented Rat from torturing me. As you see, I can get in your way too."

A nod again.

"Dim Wit revealed how vulnerable a devil's eyes are, so I could kill you now. There'll be no video record. You'll vanish. If you have a partner, he won't know what happened to you."

The bird's eyes flicked sideways - looking for the camera.

"You need to stop roosting on the camera. The lens is entirely covered by your droppings."

A nod of understanding.

"I know that if I let you out of these restraints you could destroy me completely. I also know that you won't hesitate to retaliate. I've learned a devil's word means nothing. Still with me?"

A nod.

"So, if I kill you, I'm probably safe. If I let you go, I'll probably be severely tortured."

Another nod.

"Unless you have a compelling reason to leave me alone, right?"

Another nod.

"Let's see. Could I do something for you that would make it easier for you to steal Rat's gold? Something that would allow you to manipulate Rat more easily? I wonder what it might be. Let's see if you have any ideas."

She paused.

"Speak up."

Another pause.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Canaries don't have a voice box. That sure must be a problem sometimes. Like when you're tying to get Rat to do something that he's too thick to understand. Like teaching him the hand signal for _Come_ for example."

A nod.

"If only you had a partner who could talk - a partner who could persuade Rat to do what you wanted him to do."

A nod.

"So, here's my proposal. I will let you live in exchange for a truce. In return, you will stay out of my way. Don't try to stop me or reduce my torture. Leave me alone. If I ever need your help, I will buy it from you, just as I'm buying your agreement to not retaliate when I release you. You're buying my voice box. You inform me when you want the Rat to do something or be somewhere. You give me lots of lead-time and I'll do my best. Deal?"

A nod.

She lifted the scissors. "Can you read when you're in this body?"

Another affirmative nod.

"Start roosting on the corner of my keyboard from time to time. If I have something to tell you, I'll type it on the screen. Let me know if you want to type me a message and I'll block out the office camera's view of the keyboard. Don't roost on the office camera and cover it with droppings. Rat will suspect if he sees that happening too often."

Another nod. The bird's body flexed and the duct tape around the rod split. The canary body bounced off the carpet. Meghan leaned over, picked up the bird, and dropped it in a bowl full of green-bean soup. "This goop will dissolve just about anything, including duct tape adhesive." When the bird was finished with its unexpected bath, she dipped a rag in the soup, got a stepladder, and started to clean the sloppy flour paste off the lens of the security camera.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 20

Arthur's words: Friday, June 8

I was catnapping in the surveillance loft when Firewall clambered up the stairs during his lunch hour, fretting my name. My cat personality demanded that I ignore him, so I did. Actually, I was quite glad that he had come when he did. I had been in the middle of a very intense dream - one in which I was surrounded by a slowly encroaching circle of flames.

"You're back!" he exclaimed unnecessarily.

I yawned in his face.

"Where have you been? Why didn't you phone us?"

He wanted me to make a cat call? I was going to point out that males only make catcalls when a hottie strolls by when I realized that his second question was directed to Ante Up. OK, so I wasn't at my best. After all, I had been murdered yesterday. I tried to block out the brilliant repartee taking place around me.

"I found it difficult to tear myself away from the excitement of staring at an empty street for hours at a time."

"I told you to phone me immediately Santa returned!"

"All bad things come to he who waits."

I stretched and padded out of the room. I was embarrassed that Meghan had suckered me so completely. And, I was supposed to be watching her carefully! I knew that she was sneaky, and I knew that her latent evil had surfaced, but still I let her stand next to me with a loaded frying pan! Dim Wit was truly an appropriate name.

Meghan was obviously intent on perfecting Rat's perfume. That's why she wanted her own torture to continue. The reason was equally clear. As an apprentice demon working on the new poison, she'd be able to share in the royalties. It was also in her long term interests to have the devil that she thought was hiding in the bird's body steal all of Rat's gold. Rat would have to rely even more on the income from the perfume and that meant he'd devote more time to getting it finished, field tested, and mass produced. The sooner Rat did that, the sooner she would get her partial ownership recognized. Promotion to full demon would come soon afterwards. I had to realize that she was as treacherous as Rat. With him, I had a good idea what pushed his buttons. But Meghan was absolutely unpredictable. I made a mental reminder to share my analysis with Paula and Winnie. Yet another confirmation that Meghan was evil.

### # # # # # # # #

Friday night was as exciting as taste-testing hardened earwax.

Ante Up was hunched by the phone in the HISS transportation centre - waiting for a pick up call from Rat's cave. He had cut short his entertainment at the torture pits in order to be there by midnight. Focus Test and Firewall were taking turns staring at Rat's cave from the small hole under the eaves of their rental-cave.

Meghan was in the office trying to complete a large order for the store by browsing through Rat's collection of catalogs that he had given her. Snowmobiles? Flannelette nightgowns? Long underwear? Gloves and mittens? Those all went into the wastebasket. What had the Rat been thinking ordering supply catalogs so blindly? Nobody in Hell would want to buy any of this! She tossed the next one too. Sex toys and miracle sex organ growth creams did not interest her.

Rat was sitting downstairs in front of a darkened TV, rubbing some of that very same cream onto his horns. He was bored and restless with his usual Friday night entertainment banned. Friday night TV was hopeless. Over one hundred channels and not a decent axe murder movie to be found. Rat squeezed more cream onto his hands while rereading the Mourning Star, Hell's most popular early news source. An announcement on the last page caught his eye. "The Bank of Hell announced today that Satan will make a pan-pagan announcement on Monday, June 11 at 1 pm."

Arthur didn't have time to read newspapers. He was far too busy trying to keep an eye on four devils and one demon-in-training so that Winnie could concentrate on her programming. With none of his charges doing anything interesting, Arthur was finding the lure of sleep as compelling as salt on peanuts.

Winnie was the only one to experience anything exciting that Friday night. Exhausted from programming, she collapsed into a deep sleep on the sofa in her office. It was when she tried to escape that she rolled off the sofa. The thump on the head put a stop to the dream, but not to its memory. _Can't breath. Pain. Noises in the background. Can't make sense of them. Something is pushing me. Death awaits?_

Winnie chastised herself for being such a scaredy-cat, brewed a cup of tea, fought off the urge to call Arthur and wake him up, and willed herself to go back to sleep.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 21

With less than three weeks to go before the store's grand opening, Meghan was in a rush to finish the initial stock order. She had no idea how much inventory they'd need, but with their low prices and her marketing plan, she expected huge crowds in the first couple of weeks. They had a massive storage area, so why not take advantage of it? She was just about finished. Only the junk food order remained.

An hour later, she pushed her chair back from the computer, stood up, and stretched.

Dim Wit fluttered off his roost on a high bookshelf behind her computer and swooped down to her keyboard. The nearby copyholder displayed Rat's handwritten instructions to her. "Order stuff devils will buy." The Target mortal chain's junk food catalog was open on her desk.

The copyholder would hide Meghan's keyboard. Hopping from key to key, Dim Wit laboriously typed "u mist 1."

"Sez you," she whipped off.

"who knows what devils prefer - u or me"

"You have a point."

"page 4 line 33 good price"

BKR turned the catalog to the indicated page, scanned down, frowned and typed, "Nobody will buy these now. They'll be stale. And, in Hell? Are you sure about this?"

"this treat is timeless"

### # # # # # # # #

Sunday morning: June 10.

"Get it off," Ante Up screamed at Firewall and Focus who had barreled down the stairs from the surveillance post when they heard Ante Up's agonized screams. Both expressed typical devilian concern for a compatri-devil in trouble.

"Wow! Is that Santa?"

"Is he ever huge!"

"Get it off me! Get it off me!"

Firewall looked at Ante Up, frozen on his back on the floor, a huge cougar head scrunched between his legs. Ante Up had four long claw marks down the full length of one of his legs. Scales were scattered all over the place. Firewall looked at the other items strewn across the living room floor and connected the dots, or in this case - the scales. "What did you do to Santa?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. It just attacked me."

Ever the connoisseur of semantics, Focus Test reworded Firewall's question. "What were you going to do to Santa?"

"I was going to start training it to kill birds. That's all."

Firewall looked at a solid steel model of a small canary that was fastened by a long wire to a rod. Twirl the rod in the air and the canary would fly.

"And the cattle prod?" Firewall pointed at the torture instrument lying on the floor just out of reach of Ante Up's grasp.

"It was going to be a learning stimulator. I never used it," he added quickly when he saw their incredulous looks.

Only one cattle prod was on the wall over the mantel. Without its partner, it was no longer crossed. The same could not said of Ante Up's partners who administered a solid beating to their prone, and if it must be said, completely defenseless partner who had to endure it without complaint, or movement because of Santa's grip and where it was. Finally, the jaws of dismembership opened and Ante Up hobbled out of the house without a backward glance.

### # # # # # # # #

Sunday evening. Arthur's words:

I hopped onto Firewall's shoulder to see what he was doing. He had been stuck to his computer like liver on wurst all day. His concentration was so intense I could have stripped his neck bare of scales. But, I had snagged the last DNA scale that I needed from his ankle that morning so I pulled in my claws. Perhaps I could dislodge a hairball that was beginning to bother me.

Something on Firewall's monitor caught my attention. I read the text. Whoa!

Arthur: _Winnie, are you busy?_

Winnie: _I can take a break._

Arthur: _Why would Firewall be reading my shopping list?_

Winnie: _What shopping list?_

Arthur: _You were getting low on food so I started a list of essentials last night._

Winnie: _I didn't know you had done that. Where is it on my computer?_

Arthur: _It's not on your Mac. You were using it. I put it on the computer that Rat left in the office for you to use. I unhooked it from the network first._

Suddenly, I was getting a sinking feeling that I had done something seriously wrong.

Winnie: _Where's Firewall?_

Arthur: _In his cave working on his home computer._

Winnie: _Too risky to hack in when he's using it. Are you sure it's the same list?_

Arthur: _Ice cream bars, Fudgsicles, popsicles, lick-a-colours, sherbet cyclones, vanilla ice cream tubs, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, peanuts, whipped cream, cheesies, snicker doodles. Yup, it's all here._

Winnie: _Arthur..._

Arthur: _I'm just trying to cool off. It's hot in Hell you know. Especially when you're wearing a heavy fur coat!_

Winnie: _I was going to say that you didn't order any of your favorite sodas._

Arthur: _Sorry. How did Firewall get my list?_

Winnie: _Give me a minute._

I was working on a theory that Firewall had planted a bug on me that was hidden inside a hairball when Winnie figured it out. OK, so my theory wasn't too plausible. I was working on expelling his bug while I waited for Winnie to come up with the answer. I knew my limitations.

Winnie: _Firewall put a wireless tap on Rat's computer in the apartment._

I didn't reply because I was hacking the gross thing down Firewall's back. Disgusting! How can cats stand to be in the same room with themselves?

Winnie: _If the PC computer is not hooked up to a network, the only way he could have gotten your file is with a wireless tap. He must have installed it when the apartment was furnished. What's he doing with the shopping list?_

Arthur: _He keeps scrolling up and down, jotting down meaningless notes_.

Winnie: _Read me some of what he's written._

Arthur: _It doesn't make sense. They're all incomplete sentences. Here's one: 'If f = a, and if r = e, and if q =a, then..._

Winnie: _He believes I've written a program in code and he's trying to break it!_

Arthur: _This is a bad thing, right? He has a tap on your apartment._

Winnie: _It could have been a bad thing if I had been dumb enough to use Rat's PC for any sensitive work. It's a good thing now because we can give Firewall a program that he can break._

Arthur: _Misinformation?_

Winnie: _Exactly._

Arthur: _Sneaky little devil_.

Winnie: _Him or me?_

Arthur: _You, of course. Winnie, you sound happy._

Winnie: _I've been worried that the computer work has been too easy so far. I was waiting for some evil computer genius to shut me down. But, if this is the worst he can do, then I'm happy._

Arthur: _They have no idea what you can do to them_.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 22

Meghan's orders were now beginning to arrive at the store's freight dock inside a parade of locked dumpsters. I should explain. Neither Heaven nor Hell had manufacturing industries. Anything they needed had to be obtained from Earth. Heaven had its small army of shopping angels who used garage sales to buy goods at a cost effective advantage. Hell used shoplifting devils who also acquired products at a cost effective advantage. 'Shoplifting' in this case could mean goods that have been acquired without going through a checkout both during or after store hours. The devils dropped the ordered items into dumpsters that arrived in Hell at its commercial underground border. Security devils checked the contents for angelic intrusions and then sent the dumpster to 'sorting' where the goods were matched with the appropriate purchase orders and delivered. In Meghan's case, since she ordered so much at the same time, all of her merchandise was arriving at about the same time. The store's 'stocking souls' would empty a dumpster and put the items on the necessary shelves. After the dumpster was emptied, the store would send it back to Earth for another shipment.

The stocking souls were personnel that had been assigned to Rat as part of the Pit Parole program described previously. Technically, these souls had be tortured. DBN assured Rat that she'd have them working eighteen hours a day, seven days a week, in the store on stocking and related duties thereby satisfying the torture requirements. Since Rat had given DBN the authority to order goods, he didn't see any reason why she shouldn't order the necessary stocking souls too. DBN didn't need long to learn how to use Rat's electronic signature after she taught him how to make one. Rat had lost interest in the intricacies of business mogul life after DBN had introduced him to the presence of social media conversation boards. Effectively, she was now running everything associated with the store.

### # # # # # # # #

As previously announced, Satan was scheduled to make a pan-pagan announcement at 1 pm on Monday, June 11.

At 8:00 am, the POX Network started building up the event. They would have started at 7:00 am, but that would have meant canceling their most popular morning show - an hour-long collection of hornographic clips of humans caught nose-mining the previous day. It was Hell's idea of a morning pick-me-upper and always generated the highest Neil-sin ratings of any morning show.

From 8 to 9 am, POX interviewed important devils - asking all of them the same bank of questions, starting with "What do you think Satan is going to announce?"

Russet Potato, the network's common-tator, had been pulled from his usual post on the late afternoon _Drive by Shooting_ show - an exciting collection of shots of human violence. He soon became bored with the set of questions he was required to ask and wasn't even listening to the responses. After all, it didn't matter what the respondent said so long as there wasn't any dead air. Let's see how that went for him.

"And now joining us from ScarCity is ScaryScarface. Tell me Scary, what do you think Satan is going to announce today."

"Yeesh, you guys are early. Could you come back? I'm on the pot." The cameras zoomed out to reveal that ScaryScarface was indeed occupied for the moment.

"Very interesting. And how do you think this will impact our relations with Heaven?"

"I don't think there'll be an impact. I mean I'm not actually exporting this to them, so why would they care?"

"Will this be a significant event in the history of Hell?"

The devil's perplexed look told all. "I doubt it. It's hardly unusual."

"Will afterlife in Hell be better afterwards?"

"Well, mine certainly will be."

"Thank you. That was ScaryScarface. As you've just heard, devils in ScarCity are treating Satan's imminent speech as though it were another daily event. They're putting their trust in Satan's genius to lead Hell on our path to future prosperity and a better afterlife for all. ScaryScarface did raise a concern though on the possibility that Satan's announcement might affect our exports. Now, joining us live from PugnaCity is PugPugWugWug..."

At 10 am, the POX network aired the special they had hurriedly put together that summarized Satan's previous pagan-wide pronouncements. Since only the last fifty years of announcements had been stored electronically, most of Satan's previous pan-pagan speeches were presented in the form of scrolling text against various canned film backgrounds - wars, erupting volcanoes, floods, riots, airplane crashes, collapsing buildings, and supermodels prancing down fashion show runways.

At 11 am, Pox showed the two-hour afterlife story on Satan that they had 'borrowed' from Earth's Biography Channel, which was waiting for Satan to die before broadcasting it. To spice it up, they added highlights of Satan's most dastardly deeds as sung by a barbershop quartet and performed by the Society of Glockenspielist and Clog Dancing Masochists.

At 1:00 pm sharp, the feed from Satan's official residence was activated. Satan was seated behind his desk at the Black House, engaged at his computer. As a five second countdown started, he removed his glasses, adjusted his cardigan, and re-positioned himself more comfortably on the doughnut pillow on his chair.

"My fellow hellizens. I'm pleased to announce that Hell's Dream Team for the last half-century will be formed over the coming month. Any devil with a Bank of Hell account may submit a team of ten devils who should be recognized for their sindustry accomplishments and for their contributions to Hell's broader goals of defeating Heaven." Satan showed his teeth - yellow from centuries of smoking. "The Bank of Hell's website is now ready to receive your ballots. Details on this contest are posted. Deadline for final entry is Friday, July 20." With that, Satan turned back to his game of Mortal Kombat and the TV screens went black.

The twenty-second squib caught the networks by surprise. They had expected something a little longer. Undaunted, the POX team of highly creative programmers swung into action. They brought in their analysts.

Speak-All-Evil pounced on Satan's choice of the words 'broader goals of defeating Heaven.' In previous pronouncements, Hell's goal of defeating Heaven was always paramount. Now it wasn't. Was Hell losing the war with Heaven?

Hear-All-Evil wondered about Satan's declaration of pleasure. Was it real? It sounded forced.

See-All-Evil had caught something in Satan's smile. He looked uncomfortable. Perhaps nervous. Why wouldn't he announce the size of the rewards to the Dream Team? Was the Bank of Hell having financial difficulties?

The host, concerned that they were treading into treacherous ground, brought the trio back to safer ground with some deep probing questions: Was Satan wearing a cardigan because he was chilled? Did they notice him squirming on his chair? Was he receiving medical attention for what must be an irritating itch? Was he dyeing his scales?

At 4 pm, when the three analysts had finished dissecting Satan's speech, the network brought in three analyst-analysts to dissect the comments of the previous analysts. Intellectualize, Dramatize, and Scandalize managed to string it out until 7 pm at which point the network shifted to a two-hour long town-Hell meeting of ordinary devils who gave their reactions to the day's events. Most of them focused on the comments of the analysts since, after all, they were the news story.

At 9 pm, the network's popular phone-in host took over. While Gravel-Voice presided over his _You're loony and I want everybody to know it_ show, they ran clips of the major news story on the screen behind him. Since that story consumed only twenty seconds, the clip was repeated one hundred and eighty times in the first hour.

Worried that this might tread into the category of _overkill_ , the show's producer projected a computer simulation that he had been developing to keep himself awake during the show. In the second hour, viewers were enthralled by the images and sounds of a boa constrictor swallowing an angel whole. Since the angel was playing his bagpipes at the time, the victim's five minute passage down the length of the snake created some interesting visuals as well as agonizing sounds, especially when the snake opened its mouth and the screeching horrific wails from the angel escaped. Or, they may have been from the bagpipes.

Pox managed to string it out until the 11:00 news, at which time, they began to show taped highlights of the days news. It's a good thing it was a good news day in Hell - otherwise they might have had trouble filling their time.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 23

Back on Earth, the Ministry of Justice's investigation into the pilfered calves ended with no rustlers apprehended. The case was still 'active' but investigators had concluded that any allegations that might be made against the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court would be unfounded. The confiscated calves would be returned shortly to Boss Schnappe.

The anti trust laws that targeted the three DCA ranchers went through without further legal challenges. Boss Schnappe sold the necessary cattle to smaller ranches at market price quite easily, but the purchasers invoked a clause that allowed them to delay paying for the cattle immediately if they put that money towards further expansion of their business. Since the cattle sellers had the right to obtain an interest free loan from the Ministry of Economic Development for that same result, neither buyer nor seller would be hurt.

The other two DCA ranchers would have more difficulty selling off their separate businesses. But, they were starting to get inquiries.

June saw the proclamation of a new law that was intended to develop a Colorado mining industry. Naturally, the law had a lot of words and clauses and sub-points, and sub-sub-points and so on and so on. For my readers, here's all you need to know.

In many countries, it is common for individuals and businesses to be able to buy, own, and sell land. The 'land' that they actually own is the surface land. Landowners can dig holes in it, they can plant things, and they can sell plants that grew in it. But they don't own the minerals that exist under the surface. Those belong to the government. Individuals and companies can apply for permission to mine those subterranean resources, but such applications always involve making payment to the government in some fashion. The new law established that the Colorado government did own all of the subterranean mineral rights.

The law further established that mining development companies had the right to explore for subterranean resources on privately owned land under certain provisions. The law also allowed landowners to explore for these resources under their own land. In the event that mineral resources were found, the law stipulated how mining exploration companies, or individual owners, could operates mines and profit from them. In both circumstances, the government would benefit from receiving taxes in some form.

Here's a key point: Before mining operations could begin, a mining exploration company had to provide financial evidence to the government that it had the financial resources necessary to bring a mine to operation. That evidence was to be provided in the form of a copy of their company books for the last three years. The start up costs for a mine can be daunting, so it only made sense that the government would want ensure that a mining exploration company was serious about mining Colorado's underground resources. All Colorado companies had access to interest free loans for two years from the Ministry of Economic Development provided that they proved that they had the revenue to repay the loan, so this gave them an advantage over out-of-state companies.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 24

"Firewall. You've gotta see this!"

Firewall sauntered down the stairs, stretching. Firewall had drawn Tuesday morning duty in the attic. Now that only two of them could watch Rat's cave, any break from the telescope was welcome.

Focus was at the entrance to the living room with a bowl full of ... something. "What is that crud?" Firewall asked.

"Liver paté with peanuts and crushed potato chips mixed in. I shaped the goo and then baked it in the oven to make it solid and crunchy."

"Is that supposed to be a bird?"

"Its wings are cheesies," Focus said proudly. "The beak is a nacho chip." He scooped one out of the bowl and handed it to Firewall. "Lob it into the middle of the living room. See what Santa does."

"Are you going to bring Santa in here first?"

"Just toss it. A nice easy lob."

Firewall did as instructed. The junk-food bird had just reached the apex of its flight when a pillow on the couch exploded into the air, snatched the snack, crunched it in its jaws on its descent to the ground, and strutted back to its trainer as a full-sized cougar.

"Dude Devil! Do it again."

Focus was eager to show off, so he gave the necessary command. "Stalk."

Santa padded over to the couch, hopped on top, and disappeared from view against the red and white stripes. "Protective coloration," Focus said. "It can hide anywhere. Try and find his eyes."

Firewall peered and peered. Finally, he saw two beady green buttons. "Throw one," he said, staring at the buttons.

There was no visible gathering of limbs, no coiling. One second the cougar was couching, the next it was in the air, snagging and swallowing the treat.

"Awesome. Totally awesome. The bird won't even see it coming."

"The Biological Sciences Trade Show is on Saturday."

"Rat will be there for sure. So will the bird - he never goes anywhere without it. We can watch Rat's cave until he leaves and then follow him to the dome."

### # # # # # # # #

Wednesday night. Winnie and Arthur finally had some time to be together. Ante-Up was at a torture pit show, Firewall was still trying to break a non-existent code based on Arthur's shopping list, and Focus Test was working in his tattoo parlor. Rat was watching TV and DBN was torturing herself in the hobby room. Paula was watching Firewall. Arthur was lying on the couch in Winnie's office, a large bag of cheesies open on his feathered chest.

"You know that your feathers between the bag and your mouth will be orange soon." Winnie smiled and said. "It could be a brand new disguise."

"Somebody has to verify that the cheesies haven't gone stale and you don't seem too inclined to keep up your share of the duty. You said that you have some news?"

"I've been working on Firewall's aura revealing technology. I know how it works and I have a back door into it now. We can sabotage it completely or just adjust the findings."

"That is good news. Have you decided exactly how you're going to use the back door into his technology yet?"

"No. That's too far in the future. Right now, I'm trying to figure out how to use Satan's dream team contest to our advantage. I may have some work for you next week."

"Good. I'm bored. How's the business software for Rat's store coming?"

"It's been done for some time but I don't want to tell him yet. His first reaction will be to try to haul me into his cave."

"You have something to prevent that?"

"Yeah. He's bored right now. After the store opens, he won't dare take me out of the apartment. I'll be safe here until we're ready to leave."

"Good to know. What about Firewall and his attempt to break your fictional code."

"He's working on it. Keeps him busy, which is to our advantage. I thought we could celebrate. I did a little baking. Focus inspired me. Check the freezer."

"Ice cream with frozen cheesie chunks mixed in?"

"It actually tastes quite good. I ate the entire first batch. Had to be sure about quality control."

"You've come over to the dark side?"

"I've come over to the orange side. Crunchy and cold. Yummm."

### # # # # # # # #

It's still Wednesday night. Rat got tired of the commercials on TV and went upstairs to check on DBN's torture. Not only had she insisted on being tortured, she had also proposed the kinds of scientific tests that would allow Rat to win two awards next year for his convulsor and vomitor. She had ordered the necessary chemicals she would need to achieve this as part of a store order. As she explained it, her objective in this initial set of experiments was to achieve intense, but non-fatal torture, with a one-sixth strength dose. Once that had been achieved, it was scientifically possible to claim that either perfume would result in forty-eight hours of unbelievable pain and agony. She could also adjust the dosages so that either perfume could cripple the mortal for life or cause death.

Rat looked down on DBN's body from the balcony. Three hours into the treatment she began to convulse again. He'd check the tapes later to see how many there had been. WWF beckoned.

### # # # # # # # #

Firewall had no interest in the Dream Team since his development of the aura-revealer was too recent for consideration. But, the next Dream Team competition would be different. Firewall went back to error testing the software he had written for the Media Manipulation Division. The director wanted the aura-revealer distributed to all hornocratic technology offices this week. Firewall worked on it all morning before tiring of the boring work. It was good enough.

He loaded the de-encryption software he was using to break open the code embedded in the consultant's work. She was good; he'd give her that.

### # # # # # # # #

You may be wondering about that Dream Team contest. With fifty years of devils to choose from, you'll appreciate that the chances of picking the top ten, as chosen by Satan, were quite slim. There'd always be some devils who would claim that Satan's choices were wrong. Opening up the possibility of criticism was not a smart move by any autocrat. So, Satan structured the contest to ask the question 'who would be the top ten devils as chosen by other devils?' Any carping would be directed to other devils. Satan was simply the devil who collected the tormentts and paid out the prizes.

And collect the tormentts he did. Most devils are compulsive gamblers. That was part of being genetically predisposed to being aggressive. These kinds of contests were big revenue generators for the Bank of Hell. As to the media's suggestion that the Bank of Hell might be running low of funds, that was ridiculous. Satan could mint new tormentts any time he wanted. But he had an ulterior motive. The more wealth that devils wasted on gambling, the poorer they would become, and the harder they would have to work to regain their financial security. The rules of the contest were:

1. Devils could enter as many dream team guesses as they wanted. The cost was 10T per team entered.

2. To change one or more devils on a team that had already been entered, the cost was 5T.

3. Devils could not vote for themselves.

4. Individual devils could nominate a _star_ by placing an ad on the dream team message board for 1T per word per day of exposure.

5. Sindustry companies could promote the prospects of one of their own for 2T per word per day of exposure.

6. The Bank of Hell would release no polling numbers in advance of the closing date.

7. At midnight on the final day of eligibility, which in this case was Friday, July 20, all entries were closed.

8. The top devil, as determined by the number of votes received, would win 100,000T. Second place would win 50,000T. Third place would win 25,000T.

9. For the individual devils making the entries, their submitted teams were judged on how many of their submitted devils were in the top ten. Those individuals who had guessed all ten devils on the dream team would share 100,000T. Those individuals who had guessed nine of the ten devils on the dream team would share 50,000T.

If you're thinking that these are very big prizes, they're not big in relation to what the BoH was receiving from the bets. The prizes **were** very big in terms of what devils could earn in most jobs in the hornocracy. Competition was going to be fierce.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 25

Arthur's words: I was in the middle of a power dive from the dome of the food court when Winnie warned me that Rat was getting impatient and wanted to leave for the trade show. I needed all of my concentration for a touch-and-go landing so I sent, _Hang on a sec, I'm at the fly-out window._ I closed one talon on the fully-loaded hot dog, the other on the biggie-sized container of fries. While the owner was looking around in bewilderment, I swooped around for a second run and used my beak to snag the ketchup from his tray.

"Buy some food for your BLESSED bird, you runty cheapskate!"

That outburst generated a round of applause in the food court. I would have smiled but beaks are not built for that show of emotion. Plus I didn't want to puncture the ketchup pouch prematurely.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat and DBN had been trying to capture me for ten minutes. I decided that I had frustrated them long enough. Rat tried _Protect_ again and this time I lit on his shoulder long enough for him to clasp my feet. DBN advanced with her weapon.

_I'm about to be tortured, Winnie. Aren't you going to help?_

_It'll wash off. Don't be such a little chickadee._

Rat and DBN were wearing their black leather jackets. DBN had painted a large store logo on the backs of the leathers. She had suggested an additional location for the store's logo as well. It was pretty close to defacement. Dechestment, I suppose.

_She's coming at me again. Help. Help._

### # # # # # # # #

DBN finished painting Rat's logo onto my chest feathers and offered me up for inspection to Rat. She waited until he had wobbled away before giving me a little finger flick on my head and said, "Stay there, I'm not finished." Moistening the hem of her smock with her saliva, she began rubbing a yellow mark that was barely discernable on the talons of my left foot. "Rat will think the ketchup stain is blood but he'll get suspicious if he notices the mustard."

### # # # # # # # #

"Firewall, Rat's leaving his cave," Focus Test exasperated from his surveillance platform. "Have you found Santa yet?"

Firewall had been calling for Santa for the last half-hour. Since the cougar could blend into any background, they weren't sure if Santa were in the cave or not. Firewall scoured the nooks and crannies of the cave while Focus Test looked outside - impatient to get to the trade show. Why don't cats come when they're called!

Meanwhile, Rat and DBN were ambling down the street, a garishly painted Dim Wit perched on Rat's narrow shoulder. Passing devils turned around to watch as Rat gingerly bow-legged his way down the sewers. Rat was wearing crocodile skin boots, a black Stetson, and the store's Target logo emblazoned on the back of his black leather jacket. Cow-on-a-biker, dude devil!

As they approached the domed stadium, the crowds thickened but Dim Wit maintained the all-clear signal. They entered the concourse where they ignored the various advertisements to the attractions on the upper level.

• Create your own soul-balloon. Helium and wrist tethers at reasonable prices. Five darts for 2-T.

• Have your picture taken torturing your soul. Special wild west, Klondike, and famous politician costumes for rent.

• Play _Hit the running soul_. A variety of lethal and non-lethal weapons are available for rent.

A carnival atmosphere prevailed. Puffed up devils with their retinues of liveried souls strutted up and down the concourse - ensuring that other devils saw how important they were. Other devils modeled their new head apparel designed to accentuate the size of their horns. The pet owners were out strutting too: alligators, crocodiles, wolves, even the occasional wild boar - all on jewel-encrusted leashes of course. But not the Rat's pet. As soon as they started descending the stadium stairs to the playing field, it leapt into the air and soon was a mere speck. Rat scurried into the morass of the trade show - DBN one pace behind and just off his right elbow, a three ring binder under her elbow.

### # # # # # # # #

Santa materialized against the valence at the top of the fake window, yawning elaborately. "There he is. Let's go." Firewall and Focus rushed to the stadium, a miniature Santa lounging in a tight curl on Firewall's shoulder. They didn't want anybody noticing how lethal Santa was yet. The crowd was enormous. "Stalk," Firewall instructed and Santa padded off into the crowd and was soon lost from view. "Let's sit at the top - we'll have a better view," Focus Test suggested. As they climbed the cement steps, they could hear the distant skrees of Rat's bird. They watched its lazy circles, waiting for it to come down and get shredded.

### # # # # # # # #

Trade shows serve as a venue where entrepreneur devils can demonstrate their torture products, hoping that one of the thousands of devils strolling by their booth will be a representative of a large company looking to expand its product line. To that end, there was a lot of hard selling going on as the crowds flowed by the booths.

"Just a single dab anywhere on the skin and a giant, ugly wart will instantly appear. Here Sir, you Sir... give it a try on my soul."

"Disguised as cough medicine, it actually increases the tickle in the throat..."

"How much would you pay for one of these surprise amputation kits? Would you be surprised if I said 5-T? You would? Well, so would I, because these babies don't sell for 5-T. That's right, our trade show special..."

Rat wasn't there to buy products, although he did listen with interest to every spiel. Rat was primarily here to protect his patents. If a sales-devil's spiel suggested that the product relied in any way on air or water distribution, he'd have DBN check in the binder to see if he were receiving royalties. If not, Rat would barge his way to the front of the booth - the crowd parting in front of him like dish water grease meeting a drop of the liquid soap being sold in Booth 36. (It's not soap, folks. It only looks like soap. When this boil-producing elixir is combined with water...).

By the time Rat reached the front, the crowd surrounding the booth could have heard an anvil thinking. "You owe me royalties," Rat would accuse. At the slightest resistance from the spiel-devilster, Rat would raise a digit on his left hand and a small yellow canary would flutter down to perch on the tip of Rat's extended third finger.

"Chirp, Chirp."

The avian enforcer would be patrolling as soon as the tribute of tormentts was deposited into BKR's giant backpack. The 'come' command was working perfectly.

### # # # # # # # #

Firewall and Focus watched Rat swagger his way up and down the aisles. The gall of this devil. Just because he had a lethal bird didn't mean he could flip the bird to any devil he felt like. Each time the canary settled close to the ground, they waited for an explosion of fur and the scattering of feathers, but none came. "There's always a thick crowd around Rat - Santa can't get through."

"Can you see him?"

"Once or twice, perhaps. We're too far away to be sure."

After several hours, Rat strutted away with his bird, the apprentice demon shouldering a bulging, clinking backpack that no devil dared to look at. It took about twenty minutes of paté bird trolling for Firewall and Focus to find Santa and then they went home, disappointed. They didn't notice the fire hydrant watching them from a crowded section of the stands.

"We'll have to get Santa into Rat's cave. Public areas are no good." Focus Test voiced the obvious conclusion.

Firewall agreed but hadn't made any progress on his plan to penetrate the cave yet because he was busy at work. This week he had distributed the Aura-Revealer throughout the hornocracy prematurely and without proper testing so that he could concentrate on breaking the consultant's code. She was good. Extremely good.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 26

Boss Schnappe's instructions to his foreman (Roy) had been clear. "Take some hands and all of the ranch's cattle transports and go to Fort Morgan. Stinky told me that our calves will be in their holding pens. Bring them back." So, it was not surprising then that Boss addressed Roy with some irritability after the calves had been off loaded and were milling around in the pens that the ranch used for short-term confinement.

"Why didn't you bring them all back?"

"I did."

"What was your count when you loaded them?"

"One hundred and fifty three."

"You're way short. Did you miss a pen or two?"

"No. We took everything that was in their waiting yard."

"They had three hundred and five calves that belong to us."

"Well, they didn't put that number out for pick up."

"Did you see any other calves around in their yard and in the surrounding area?"

"Nah. The place was somewhat lonely. A hand said that business had been slow."

"Get the copter. Somebody down there made a mistake."

### # # # # # # # #

Well, if there had been a mistake in Stinky's operations, nobody was admitting to it. Stinky, Boss, and the two foremen toured the area. They saw the south pasture where the calves had been kept. That pasture was empty of cows. The fencing was intact. The calves didn't escape that way.

As to how many of Stinky's men had been involved in watching them? All of them had been part of feeding and watering at some point or another.

As to how many of Stinky's men had been assigned to guard them. Zero. That had not been part of their agreement. Stinky had offered to feed and water them. Boss had not asked for a twenty-four hour guard. If he had, Stinky would have let the Ministry of Justice take them away. He didn't have that kind of manpower.

"You owe me one hundred and two calves, Stinky."

"I don't have calves to give you, Boss. They aren't here."

"Pay me then. One hundred dollars a head."

"Show me the contract where I agreed to safeguard your calves and pay you that much money if they disappeared." Naturally, Stinky would trot out the legal argument when the talking got testy.

"I gather things were slow here for you, Stinky. Did you butcher my calves and think that I wouldn't count them?"

"This conversation is over."

### # # # # # # # #

There wasn't much to say on the way back, so Boss just said the same things over and over. How he had already lost many of his cattle because of the anti-trust ruling. How these calves would represent a full year of breeding in a couple of years. The number he had left wouldn't be enough to maintain the size of his now depleted herd. Stinky always did have a certain degree of flexibility when it came to adhering with the law. On that last point, Boss didn't elaborate. But he did continue to vent. "This isn't over," he told his foreman as he stepped out of the copter. "Give me a count again and take pictures this time. Keep the calves in the pen so that Sheriff Evans can see them tomorrow."

That was a good idea. Visual evidence that they had only received one hundred and fifty three. The sheriff would know the original count. There was only one slight problem with Boss' plan for the next day. The calves couldn't be found when the ranch came back to life at dawn. Surprise!

### # # # # # # # #

The scene in Fort Morgan that next morning was not pretty. Boss always did have a temper. He got his way often because he projected imminent violence. That violence went past the imminent threshold when he met Stinky the next morning, looked for all of his missing calves, and found none of them. He accused Stinky of butchering one hundred and fifty two calves and then rustling and hiding another one hundred and fifty three. He did this in the middle of a crowd of Stinky's yardmen.

Stinky did what he did best. "That's slander. I'll have you in court."

Boss did what he did best. He pummeled Stinky until Stinky's yardmen pulled him off.

"That's assault," Stinky sort of said. It was hard to pick out what he had said because his mouth and chin weren't working all that well.

Boss went to Fort Collins on his way to his ranch and filed a formal complaint. Sheriff Evans took the information but wasn't so sure how it would be possible to prove anything. Boss insisted on filing it anyway.

Stinky went to Sheriff Dale, the Fort Morgan sheriff, and filed two charges as threatened above.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 27

Arthur's words:

I was suffering through another of my 'fire dreams' when I heard a faint whisper, _Arthur? Are you there?_ These dreams were not only becoming more frequent, but more intense as well. As was my desperation in trying to fight through the flames. Somebody was on the other side. Somebody I cared about. So, when I heard Winnie's quiet thought, I woke with a sense of relief.

I had been sleeping on a girder in Rat's Target store in shoulder demon mode. Below me, Rat and DBN were supervising about thirty souls who were rushing back and forth preparing for the store's grand opening. Winnie was monitoring Focus Test who was in the tattoo parlor - working out his disappointment from Friday's trade show on some poor customer. Paula was watching Firewall who was in his condo, expressing his own frustrations by cursing at Patsy Phew every hour on the hour.

Below, Rat and DBN were opening a crate. Rat pulled out a studded dog collar and a remote TV channel changer, examined them, and demanded a test. DBN took the remote out of his hand and tapped a button. Rat dropped the collar with a curse. "Not on me, you idiot!" and he cuffed her a couple of times across the back of her head.

Below me, DBN attached the collar around a soul's neck - studs pressing against the skin of his body sleeve. She pointed the remote at him and thumbed the button. The soul collapsed onto the floor, shrieking and writhing in pain. She depressed the button for a good thirty seconds, smiling and talking to Rat. "I told you it would be excruciating."

Proof positive that DBN was evil.

### # # # # # # # #

Later that evening, Rat was back in his cave, trolling through the message boards on the Dream Team contests. DBN was still at the store. Dim Wit would accompany her back to the cave when she was finished. Rat noticed that some devil was promoting Cancer Stick as a suitable devil for membership on the Dream Team.

The subject header read: _Dream Team should inhale Cancer Stick._

Rat had smiled when he read the header. Finally, somebody was promoting a real devil, and one from his sindustry. He had every reason to smile. After all, Rat was receiving royalties on all the illnesses caused by second hand smoke.

Then, Rat read the endorsement.

_Cancer Stick has personally caused more pain, suffering, and death than most devils could aspire to. His success has been particularly notable because humans are aware of the long-term harmful effects of his poison. However, through his effective media campaigns, Cancer Stick has managed to convince young mortals that smoking and vaping are cool, thereby hooking them for life._

Rat snorted in disgust. Whatever the media campaigns contributed was of secondary importance - barely worth noting at all. It was the addictive power of the drug that made cigarettes so harmful. Attributing the drug's success to media campaigns diminished the effort from the years of research that Cancer Stick had devoted to creating more potent poisons. Media Manipulation devils just sat around dreaming up slogans. The two hardly compared!

### # # # # # # # #

With less than five days to go before the grand opening, Rat's marketing department had run out of inspiration. DBN sat at her computer fidgeting.

Dim Wit glided down to her keyboard from the bookshelf behind her desk. The camera-blocking copyholder displayed Rat's handwritten page of instructions for the marketing plan he wanted from DBN. _Get devils to come to the store and buy lots of things._

Dim Wit hopped onto the keyboard and typed "do u want help"

"Yeah right," she typed.

"devils r good at insults"

"You know what I need?"

"not blind can read"

"You know the entire marketing plan?"

"c above"

"I was good at the pain comments, but I'm too tired to be creative. I need 2,980 more insults."

"look in top rt drawer 2morrow"

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 28

Several days after all the charges had been laid, Sheriff Dale and Sheriff Evans were sitting in Stinky's living room. "We decided to run a joint investigation on the missing calves," Evans said. Dale nodded in agreement. Nodding was basically all the Fort Morgan sheriff did whenever he met with Stinky, so this was quite in keeping with past performance.

"You're not going to turn this over to the folks at Justice?" Stinky asked.

"No point. They never did anything on the other case. Sheriff Dale and I are pooling all of our resources, so we'll have ample manpower."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"We already have some leads. The sooner we solve the rustling, the sooner you can rejoin the Supreme Court, Chief Justice."

"I hadn't planned to recuse myself from the court."

"Staying active might create problems for you, Chief Justice. You are once again a suspect in an ongoing investigation. In addition, you have initiated court proceedings of your own. You are now involved in three suits that will be advancing through the courts. You cannot be involved in Supreme Court business. I'd actually recommend that you take a leave of absence, but that's not for me to say."

"I'll talk with the folks at Justice. You said you had some leads?"

"A few questions first. Have you had any friction with members of the community recently?"

"No."

"Have you fired any employees recently?"

"No."

"Is there any reason why an employee would be angry with you? Somebody was turned down for promotion, perhaps?"

"I've had to cut back the hours for everybody because business has been slow."

"Did anybody talk to you directly about that?"

"No. They went to Rogers, my foreman. He told me."

"They? As in more than one?"

"Yes."

"Were Rogers' hours cut back too?"

"Yes."

"When Boss attacked you, who pulled him off you?"

"A couple of yardmen."

"Not your foreman."

"No."

"Did Boss' foreman make any moves to restrain him?"

"I didn't notice."

"We asked Boss about that. He said that Roy had just watched."

"So?"

"A foreman is supposed to protect his boss from problems of any nature. Surely, Roy would know that an attack on you would end up badly. Surely, Rogers should have stepped in immediately in what was obviously an unfair fight. But Roy and Rogers just watched. Is that how foremen would normally operate?"

"No."

"Do the men know each other?"

"Yeah. We have a fair amount of interaction with Boss' people."

"Do they drink together?"

"Yeah, I suppose. I've seen them at the local tavern."

"We'll ask the bartender how well they get along. What's the bar called?"

"The Trigger. Where are you going with this?"

"We believe that the rustling has been an inside job. Your men have already complained about reduced wages. Boss' men are worried about keeping their jobs with Boss having to sell so many cattle. Both foremen could be in cahoots. Whoever is behind this, they knew how to organize. It's not one of the yardmen."

"So Boss and I are in the clear?"

"No. If the foremen arranged this, we'd have to ask ourselves how likely it would be that you or Boss didn't know about it."

"Boss knew about it. He knows everything that goes on in his ranch."

"Funny. That's what he said about you."

"Where'd the calves go?"

"Where would you take calves that you wanted to sell secretly?"

"If I answer that question, does that mean you'll think I did it?"

"I already think that you may have done it."

"I'd take them down to _Happy Trails To You_ , Pat Brady's meat packing place in Pueblo."

"Funny. That what Boss said too."

### # # # # # # # #

_[Narrator interlude: My readers know how the calves disappeared for Fort Morgan. If you're going to teach people how to rustle cows silently, why limit yourself to rustling for only one night? With all the calves crowded together, it took about thirty seconds to chloroform, palletize, and hoist each sleeping calf. The calves in Fort Morgan were deposited one or two at a time on ranches around Colorado that had not branded their calves yet._

_As to the calves disappearing from Hereford, the sequence remained the same. Chloroform, palletize, and hoist. These calves were taken to South Dakota where they were deposited on prime grazing land. Some rancher would eventually find them._

_For those of you who are not familiar with famous singing cowboys from the 1950s, Roy Rogers was one of the most popular. His real and movie wife was Dale Evans. His horse was named Trigger. Pat Brady was a sidekick. Roy Rogers and Dale Evans' most famous song was 'Happy Trails to You.']_

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 29

Friday morning two days before the store opening, Meghan put the copy stand next to her computer so that it would block the surveillance camera's view of the keyboard. Five minutes later, Dim Wit fluttered to her shoulder, and then after a while, down to the keyboard. Meghan began to type.

"I want a 1000-T coin. Will you sell it to me?"

Dim Wit nodded.

"You aren't going to ask why?"

A shake of the head.

"I'll pay you back by getting Rat to do something for you."

Dim Wit nodded.

That afternoon, as Meghan was passing through a dead-camera zone in the store, Dim Wit dropped a coin in front of her. She bent over, palmed it, and went on her way without looking at the bird.

### # # # # # # # #

That Friday evening, Arthur and Winnie were watching Meghan on the floor in the hobby room.

Winnie explained. "Renewing the poison testing this close to the store's opening was her idea. Rat said that he couldn't afford her being incapacitated so close to the grand opening. She said she had been working twenty hours that last couple of days and all her work is done."

"Is it really?" Paula asked.

Arthur replied. "Yes. Just before she asked me for the 1000-T coin, she closed the binder with a smile and a thump. You're all done too, right Winnie?"

"Yes. I'm ready. Are you?"

"For the grand opening, yes. I have an idea how to develop one of the entertainment booths, but I'll have to see if devils react to it like I believe they will. If I'm right, I'll get Meghan to suggest it to Rat. I'll tell her that it will wipe out her 1000-T debt."

They both looked at Winnie's screen. Friday night. Torture night. Meghan was writhing on the padded floor. She stopped in mid roll, felt the padding under her body, and began banging her head on the floor with increasingly desperate violence. It took ten attempts. Afterwards, her body responded to the poison's spasms like a sack of wet sand.

"I'm not going to watch these poison tests any more," Winnie said after changing the camera feed.

"I told you what she did with the dog collars, right?"

"I still don't believe she's evil."

"Too bad you can't read her mind. Then you'd know for sure."

"Any news from Paula? I thought she'd be back from Heaven by now."

"She might be waiting to make sure that Bertram is going to be successful. How important is the timing?"

"I still have a flexible time schedule. It'll become tricky later. I was thinking we should have Paula tell Joe-Joe about your headaches. He might have a fix."

"What headaches?"

"The ones you're not telling me about. I may not be able to read Meghan's mind, but I can read yours."

"I have them under control."

"I can try to send you pleasant thoughts when you get them."

"I never know when they're going to come. I don't know what the trigger is."

"Do they ever come when you're awake?"

"No. Of course not."

"So now you know when you're going to get them. Did I ever tell you that I'm a healer?"

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 30

The two men met in a mostly empty copter bus terminal in Denver. The middle-aged man sat down on the far end of a bench occupied by an older man. He was dressed as though he had just come from weeding a garden, which in fact was true. Saturday afternoon gardening. Whoopee. He wore sandals, grungy knee length shorts, and a perspiration stained t-shirt. A perspiration stained broad brimmed sun hat completed the ensemble. The older man wore cowboy boots, a pair of denim coveralls, a long sleeved checkered work shirt, and a battered Stetson. Oh, and he stank. They both stared at the bus schedule as though they were having difficulty choosing where to go. The choices were limited. South to Colorado Springs, Pueblo, and Trinidad; or north to Loveland, Fort Collins, and Cheyenne. What to choose, what to choose.

"You wanted the meeting," the old stinkeroo whispered. "Why the secrecy?"

A whisper snuck back without drawing the attention of the man sweeping the floor at the end of the terminal. "I can't risk being seen going down to your office. I believe I'm being watched during work hours. They may have a tap on my computer."

"Why would they? You're not doing anything wrong."

"The governor knows about me."

"He certainly knows who prosecuted him and who defended him. He hasn't done anything about that. He may suspect that you organized the trial, but he can't prove anything." _[The gardener was Justin Justice, the Director of the Ministry of Justice. You already know who the stinkeroo was.]_

"My minister has created a working group that could be very dangerous. Ten mid level Justice Ministry bureaucrats will come up with suggestions on how to improve the Supreme Court and its operations. No idea is off the table. I doubt that this working group was my minister's idea."

"Why weren't you included?"

"Good question. I should have been. Whatever this working group produces has to pass my desk, but I have no control of its contents. I wasn't asked to comment on any of the ideas, so I can't influence it in any way. The working paper will go from me to the Minister and I fully expect it to end up on the governor's desk. If he does anything with the ideas, he'll be able to claim he was working off a Ministry of Justice document."

"Go on."

"I know the people who are in the working group. Some of them have been riding their personal hobbyhorses for years. I've never let them express their ideas in a formal way. This study will give their ideas an audience and immediate credibility."

"Ideas like what?"

"Increasing the size of the Supreme Court to seven. Setting term limits instead of allowing membership on the court to last for life. Setting expectations on what might be legitimate reasons for removing a justice from the court temporarily or permanently. Your recusals were noticed."

"Flimsy accusations that were easily denied."

"Nevertheless, they may have given the governor an excuse to act."

"Any one of those ideas could cost us our majority."

"My thinking exactly."

"We should have a group meeting this Friday night at 7 pm," Stinky announced. "I'll unlock the back door. We'll meet in the board room behind the court room."

"Is it secure enough?"

"I'll ask Lina to have her friend check it out. You get the Ministry of Justice people to the meeting. I'll get the other two Supreme Court justices to the meeting."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 31

Sunday dawned clear and bright in Hell.

Actually, that statement isn't quite true.

First, with the sun such a hated object, there can be no Sunday in Hell. _Satanday_ sounded too much like Saturday, so they named it _Beezleday_ instead.

Second, there's no dawn in Hell. No sun, right? So, at 7:06 every morning, Central Power creates 'murk-up' by turning the rheostats on the lights up. 'Murk-down is at 7:06 every evening.

Third, it's never clear and bright in Hell.

Other than that, the opening sentence is correct.

Beezleday was a special day in Hell, just as Sunday was special in Heaven. Satan designated Beezleday as a day when devils should pay tribute to the most important, nay, most sacred aspect to Hell.

That's right. Having tormentts to spend! Beezleday was the day when every devil in Hell was required to spend at least 100-T. Those failing to respect what served as the closest Hell had to a deity found their bank account lighter by 500-T the next morning. So, if you were going to lose it, you might as well lose it on something you wanted. As a result, Beezleday was the busiest day in the week for Hell's retailers. That's why Rat had scheduled his grand opening for Beezleday.

### # # # # # # # #

The crowds in the store were immense. Some devils were attracted by the opening day specials; others by the graffiti signs that had been promoting the opening for weeks. Others followed the crowds as they jostled by the souls tied to the meters in the parking lot that had been festooned by gaily-coloured lawyer balloon souls dipping and soaring in response to the flamethrowers below them.

A large sign extended the length of the storefront. _Welcome to Rat's Target. Feel free to shoplift. If you can sneak it out of the store, you're welcome to it_.

So far that morning, 3010 devils had tried. The score was Rat 3010, shoplifters 0. The 'greeter' was working perfectly and Winnie's business software was transferring tormentts into the store's bank account as fast as heavily laden devils could exit the checkout cages. Store staff would restock tonight, but in the meantime, they were part of the entertainment. And, that's what set Rat's Target apart from every other retail establishment in Hell. It didn't just sell products - it offered fun. For a price, of course.

At 1:00 pm promptly, Satan arrived. News of his attendance had been widely circulated and the store was awash with celebrity groupies. Rat slipped him the voucher authorizing a 50,000-T transfer from the store's bank account to Satan's personal account and accompanied him on the grand tour.

They strolled up and down the aisles past the shelves now only partially full of merchandise. Satan fingered various products along the way, slipping one or two into his overcoat pockets. He commented on the low prices.

"Lowest in all of Hell by at least 25%," Rat said. "I can afford to keep prices low because no product gets out of the store without being paid for."

"Except for the ones in my pockets, right?" Satan asked, sotto-voce.

Rat murmured back. "The software will be adjusted before you enter the cage. Once you're outside the store, you can reveal everything you stole. As we agreed."

"I brought my coat with extra deep pockets just for the occasion."

And so he had. The fifteen-foot tall Satan had very deep pockets.

They strolled by the McDonald's at the back of the store. Rat offered to buy him a big Mac, but Satan demurred. "I'm watching my cholesterol. At my age, you can't afford to take any chances."

But Satan was interested in the little toys that were being offered for free when five meals were ordered at once. "What are those, Rat?"

"Bobbleheads. Each week, we'll be offering a new bobblehead of a famous devil. Naturally, we started with you."

Well, Satan had to have some, so Rat and BKR turned around and pretended to be looking elsewhere while he stuck a dozen in his pockets. As they passed under the red and black arches, their progress became slowed by the long lineups in front of the special exhibits.

Rat pointed at the first. "This is the evil-meter."

It resembled a carnival strength test - the kind where you swing a big heavy hammer and try to ring a bell at the top of a vertical stand. Except there was no bell in Rat's store. At the top of the huge stand was a large, feathery, ugly angel with his feet astride the stand. It glared down at the crowd because nobody was playing right then. "Ho Ho Ho" it boomed out in a deep bass voice. "Merry Christmas."

The devil at the front of the line-up raised his hammer and swung with all his might. The projectile - a nasty iron sphere with an arrow-sharp point sped up the stand.

The angel commented on his effort. "Well, at least you have an ugly face, Bub. Reminds me of what comes out of a turkey before it's stuffed."

The second devil paid his 10-T and swung mightily only to hear, "You have the coordination of a cow picking its nose."

The efforts of a third devil fell short as well. The angel sent him on his way encouragingly. "You don't need muscles when you have a job as road kill."

The fourth fared no better. "You should cover up that soiled diaper on your shoulders."

Satan stepped forward - "It's beginning to annoy me."

BKR slipped behind the stand, reappeared, and nodded at Rat. "Allow me, Sire." Rat handed him the hammer.

"There was a mighty stroke and the projectile rocketed up the stand and into the crotch of the angel. A falsetto voice boomed out over the store PA - "Owwwwwwwwww. I'm going to tell my Daddy."

"Anybody neutering the angel receives a free pass to any entertainment event in the store."

Quietly: "You'll let them win occasionally, right Rat?"

"Of course, Sire. Otherwise, they won't come back. The angel has 3,000 insults. It also has one hundred different expressions of pain."

"What's this little room?" The huge roars of laughter bursting from its interior sparked Satan's interest.

"That's our mechanical angel - it twists, it bucks, it soars, it turns upside down. You sit between the wings, grab the garrote around its neck, and hang on by wrapping your feet around its belly. All the riders receive a sticker that they can wear on their scales that tells how many seconds they were able to stay on. Any devil who lasts for twenty seconds receives a plaque plus his picture on this wall here. Those that fall into the ... well, we have a scale cleaning-while-you-wait kiosk just down the way."

"Think I should try, Rat?"

"Uh, perhaps not, Sire. Quite a bit of Vaseline is still on the belly."

"And what's here?"

"Our stage show, Sire." Rat gave two tickets to the attendant at the door. "We're right at the front," he rhapsodized, forgetting that Satan never had to worry about devils butting into line in front of him.

The rising curtain revealed a stage awash in a mish mash of props. There were ladders leaning against some unpainted walls of the set, several plastic kiddie pools filled with something that had a nasty smelling steam rising from it, a giant wrecking ball swinging back and forth, broad open pits yawning cavernously in the stage floor, and perilous items (e.g., broken bottles, boards with nails sticking through them, leg-hold traps) scattered willy-nilly.

A bell chimed and the cast of thirty souls entered, faced the audience, bowed, and then began walking on and off the set. Each was dressed up as an angel - complete with feathers, halos, wings, and a dog collar around its neck. They strolled on stage carrying various objects - for example, a cream pie, a spear, a 2x4 board, or a vat of boiling water. They began meandering through the obstacle course - some exiting stage left only to reappear a short time later stage right. Some souls came in pairs, for example the two souls struggling to transport the sheet of glass or the pair juggling the roaring chain saws. "We give the audience a chance to see all the potential dangers that the angels will face," Rat prattled.

Just then, a siren sounded and twelve devils who had been waiting in the wings rushed into the orchestra pit.

"We have fifty remote control zappers in the pit, Sire. Thirty are keyed to the collar of a particular soul; twenty don't work. If the soul is on stage at the time, and if the proper remote is pointed at it, it will receive a painful shock causing it to.... See there."

A soul who had been climbing up the ladder froze at the top, vibrated and toppled backwards in an ungainly somersault before landing directly in a vat of steaming liquid of some kind. The bowling ball he had been carrying hit the angel pushing the cauldron flush in the face. Both went down in a flurry of limbs. Two souls in medic smocks rushed onto the stage and dragged the writhing bodies and props away.

"The devil who caused that accident receives credit for two kills. Now he has to find another remote, determine if it will zap one of the remaining angels, and then disable it along with as many other angels as possible. Timing is everything. The ladders are a favorite way to score double kills, but the swinging wrecking ball spreads a lot of blood around so some try to freeze an angel in its path. Each day, the names of the two devils with the most kills are posted on the store's large billboard outside. The devils with the top two scores for the month can make one free pass through the checkouts."

Satan and Rat watched the show - joining in with the laughter and cheers whenever an angel was pulverized. The contest became much harder as the number of angels diminished and devils started fighting each other for the zappers. The curtain fell at the end of thirty minutes.

As Rat and Satan trudged up the steps of the auditorium, Rat elaborated on the plans. "We'll adjust the set every day and, of course, the angels will have different props every game. It's possible to reserve playing time, but the tickets are expensive. We're booked three weeks ahead already."

"Are the souls getting truly tortured?"

"Most assuredly, Sire. I tested one of the collars on myself for that very reason. It stung me even through my scales - so much so that I couldn't keep my grip on the collar. It would be excruciating for a soul."

"I'm pleased to hear that Rat. I have heard that you have been barely meeting your soul torment quota recently. You have a huge stable of souls now, so that won't be a problem for you any longer."

They wandered towards the lengthy lines to the checkouts. Every outgoing devil was wearing a black overcoat, although many were not attempting to hide some of the treasures they were hoping to pilfer. One devil had a giant snoopy beanbag on his head, the kind with the slot for a tail. He had observed convention though by burying a can of peanuts underneath it.

"Who did your marketing, Rat. I must say it's excellent."

Rat smiled modestly. "Just a few ideas I had floating around, Sire."

"You did the entertainment centres as well?"

"The concepts, of course. I let my apprentice demon set them up, hire staff, and so on."

Satan paused in front of the checkouts and looked at the shelves full of candies, chocolate bars, and other junk food. This was the last chance to top up the pockets. "And the ordering? Did you do that?"

"The initial orders, of course. Once I've determined what sells well and what doesn't, I'll assign the task to my assistant. " The assistant in question was fiddling with the panel controls on an empty cash booth.

Satan dropped a clawful of goodies into his pockets and passed through the cash booth. The booth's display board read, "Sorry that you didn't buy anything today. Come again, Satan."

"It prints out the devil's name?"

"Of course... all part of personalizing the service."

"You did this too?"

"Again, the concepts Sire. As you know, I'm no computer programmer."

Sotto voce. "She's still in the apartment?"

"For just a little bit longer."

Satan reached the edge of the parking lot and began extracting stolen items from of his pockets - displaying them to roars from the crowd. Ten bobbleheads; three horn polishing kits; a six pack of 10-Up (the bubblier version of 7-Up), and a giant sized T-shirt with the picture of an infuriated postman, a soul under his hooves, and the caption: Postal workers do it with stamps. He kept the large tube of Preparation D (Preparation H was for humans) in his pocket. He also kept the gaily-wrapped chocolate Easter eggs hidden.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 32

Exhilarated by the success of his Grand Opening, Rat gave his apprentice demon a fourth-letter for her demonic name when they got home from the store. It's a good thing Rat promoted her on Beezlenight - his good mood evaporated Monday morning.

DBBN (still pronounced as DeBin) rose before murk-up to check that the store had been cleaned and restocked properly. Rat figured with the store off to such a success, it could run itself. So, he slept in, expecting to take the day off.

Rat completed three tasks while he was still in a good mood. First, he checked that DBBN had prepared Miss Patsy's bedroom for her arrival that afternoon. Second, he drank his morning coffee. Third, he started reading the message boards. This particular endorsement caught his eye.

_Miss Leader has been at the forefront of the relatively new diet sindustry. Her accomplishments are well known. Many of Earth's females are totally obsessed with their appearance and will do anything to be slim. Miss Leader spent much of her early career building up that obsession and she is now reaping the rewards. Bulimia and Anorexia are just two of her accomplishments. Initially a uni-gender threat, Miss Leader's work on generating unhealthy diets has brought health problems to both male and female humans. It was Miss Leader's diet that induced them to consume products that would actually increase their fat levels, while all the time they were trying to reduce them._

Rat noticed that Miss Leader actually went so far as to spread the credit around. What kind of devil does that?

_All of my accomplishments could not have been achieved without the great help of my friends in the Media Manipulation Division. They're the ones who published my books._

Rat swore so hard that he wore more of his coffee than he drank. Media Manipulation again. And a devilette on top of it! Later, an e-mail from Miss Patsy gave him reason to curse even harder.

"Mr. Buboni: The first attempts to break into the store's business software came as soon as the store opened this morning. My traps have dissuaded the crude attempts. However, at least three skilled programmers are poking around. There's no danger yet, but it's important that you take the computers off-line every night and check that no customer is hidden inside the store. You should probably delegate this task to your most trusted employee or do it yourself. You can expect concerted efforts to break into the software for one or two weeks more, or until the word is out that it can't be done. Be assured that I'll remain by my computer as long as your store's software is threatened."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 33

"I received your message," Lina told Stinky. "My ex-boy friend is on duty all this week and can't get free, but he gave me his magic wand and showed me how to use it." Lina pointed the said magic wand in the air and turned in a full circle. "See, your office is clear."

"How do I know that thing is working and that you know how to use it?" Stinky asked.

"He gave me a bug for you to test."

"It looks like a button."

"Exactly. Sew this bug on a shirt and nobody would suspect. Go ahead. Hide it somewhere on this floor."

_[Actually, it was a button. TG had taken it out of Mac's sewing basket that morning.]_

Stinky disappeared. TG didn't have to disappear, he was already invisible. But he did keep his eye on the button.

_He hid it in the supreme courtroom under the seat pad of the court recorder's chair._

_Thanks, TG._

...

"You watched me find the bug. Are you satisfied that the magic wand is working?"

"Yuh."

"Good. I have a bone to pick with you, Stinky." Lina sat down on the chair underneath the invisible drone taping everything that was said and done in Stinky's office. Stinky was sitting in the chair behind his desk, precisely where the drone was focused. The camera wouldn't see Lina but it would hear her. "You don't trust me," she accused.

"You're complaining because I wanted to make sure you knew how to operate the detector."

"No, not that."

"What then?"

"You and I both know that I'm guilty of helping you railroad the governor into that fake trial. I dressed up as his campaign manager. I opened up a fake bank account. I deposited money that you gave me into that account. I was the undercover informant that gave fake evidence at the trial. I did exactly what you told me to do. I could go to jail for a long time because of that."

"You were well paid."

"Yes, I was."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"No. Here's the thing. I know an awful lot about what you guys did to the governor. The fake bribes that I deposited came from Boss, Knute and Llewellen who took that money illegally from the bank accounts of their ranches. The three of them also testified falsely that the governor had pressured them to donate money to his _Stook for Governor_ bank account under threats of being an unhappy governor when matters of the CBA came to his attention. You, Pinkney, and Thadeus knew what the CBA was doing and agreed in advance to rig the trial so that the governor and his campaign manager would be found guilty. You managed to do this even though the trial before the Supreme Court was deeply flawed. Justin Justice organized the trial so that the governor and my look-a-like Sheila Enderby would be found guilty. Then, he secretly incarcerated both of them in California prisons."

"So you know everything. Are you trying to blackmail us?"

"No. I'm guilty the same as you guys are. But I trust you and the others that you're not going squeal on me. If you do, I go to prison. But you don't trust me."

...

"I'm as crooked as you are. The group of us railroaded the governor into prison, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why don't you respect me for being crooked?"

"What?"

"You invited all of the justices who railroaded the governor to your meeting on Friday night. The prosecutor and defense lawyer are coming. Justin Justice is coming too. Everybody invited to the meeting is guilty as sin. Right?"

"Yuh."

"So why didn't you invite me?"

"Huh?"

"Is it because I'm a woman?"

"Are you one of those women libbers. I thought all those people were dead now."

"I could contribute in the meeting."

"We can't take minutes. That would be very foolish."

"Would you like me to make coffee and hand out goodies?"

"Well,.."

"I was being sarcastic. I could help plan what you're going to do now. Women can be as crooked as men, you know."

"Fine. You're invited."

"About time."

"About those goodies..."

"Not a chance!"

_[Well done, Sheila. You got everything Stu wanted.]_

_[Memorized it last night.]_

_[About those goodies...]_

_[Remind me, TG. Do I have a laser on my sling?]_

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 34

Friday night June 29, Stinky met his co-conspirators at the back door to the Justice Building that was closest to the Supreme Court. They were getting seated in the boardroom behind the courtroom when two uninvited guests arrived.

"Gentlemen, and lady," Governor Stookenhap greeted them politely. "Sorry to interrupt your meeting but the Denver sheriff has something to say to you. Sheriff."

"The seven of you are all under arrest for conspiracy to commit a felony. Each of you will be confined separately in a room in the abandoned Denver Cattlemen's Association building. Deputies in the hallway will ensure that you do not leave your room and you do not communicate with each other. You will have the opportunity to respond to other official charges tomorrow in a formal, legal setting."

### # # # # # # # #

Stook had taken the opportunity of the government's summer recess to set up a courtroom in the actual legislative chamber. Tables and chairs were rearranged to form a semi circle where twelve judges would sit. A single table and a chair were in the centre of that semi circle and facing the judges. Another single table and chair sat at the perimeter. Next to that was a big screen on a mobile table.

The leg chamber was a magnificent circular room with a beautiful high domed ceiling. Historical artwork documenting periods in Colorado's history graced the outside wall. Historical artifacts occupied places of honour on various counters and shelves that also were part of the outside wall. It was as much a museum as it was a legislative chamber. Acoustics were such that people could speak in normal voices and be heard throughout the room.

A public gallery high against the southern wall allowed guests to visit the leg when it was in session and witness government in action. Nobody other than elected members of the leg was allowed on the main floor, with some allowances for special circumstances. Today was one of those special circumstances.

At 8:55 am Saturday, June 30, twelve men in justice robes entered the leg chamber and selected a desk to sit behind. Most of them appeared to know each other, but their quizzical looks at each other suggested they had not been thoroughly briefed yet as to why they were there. Some gawked at the room; others whispered among themselves.

At 9 am, the Governor and the Lieutenant Governor entered the room and strode to the center of the court. Both were in their ceremonial clothes, the ones they wore to open legislatures openings and other official events. These were heavy red robes adorned with mink furs. Both men were wearing a beaver tail hat. The lieutenant governor carried an ancient Winchester rifle in his role as official protector of the Governor.

Governor Stookenhap began speaking.

"On December 20 last year, I was abducted from my residence and forced to stand trial for a series of trumped up charges. The trial itself was unconstitutional and designed to ensure that I was found guilty by the five justices of the Colorado Supreme Court. Those justices sentenced me to thirty years of incarceration in a prison outside of Colorado. I managed to escape, returned to Denver, and resumed my governor position. I said nothing about where I had been and simply confirmed what the Ministry of Justice was claiming as the reason for my absence. I was on leave for health reasons. On my return on March 25, I immediately spoke with Lieutenant Governor Fleming and informed him what had happened."

"We agreed that a fake trial and a kidnapping were an unprecedented attack on our state's democracy and a potential threat to civil order. On March 25, 2091 I invoked the powers granted to the governor under Clause 3 of the state's constitution and declared a state of emergency. Lieutenant Governor Fleming and I both signed the necessary legal documents to invoke these powers."

"My first use of these special powers was to establish a Special Counsel for the State of Colorado who, as part of that position, would have broad investigatory powers including the ability to subpoena witnesses and interrogate them. His job was to find out who was behind my kidnapping and bring those people to trial. I should mention that the same time that I was kidnapped and falsely tried, my campaign manager, Sheila Enderby, received the same treatment. She was sentenced to a women's prison outside of Colorado. The special counsel's duties extended to her as well. I selected the Special Counsel and gave him his duties and responsibilities on March 26."

"On Monday, June 25, the Special Counsel informed me that his investigation was complete and that he had seven suspects that he wanted to interrogate in the format of a Grand Jury. The laws of the state currently allow prosecutors to call people to testify in cases where extraordinary powers are needed. In a grand jury format, subpoenaed witnesses can be compelled to attend and to answer questions without a lawyer present. He and I agreed that this was an extraordinary circumstance."

"My second use of the special powers was to suspend all operations of the Colorado Supreme Court. I did that Tuesday June 26 and signed the necessary paperwork with the Lieutenant Governor as witness."

"My third use of the special powers was to create a new, temporary senior judicial court which would consist of all of the members of the four regional appellate courts who were willing to take on extraordinary duties. I did that on Tuesday June 26 and signed the necessary paperwork with the Lieutenant Governor as witness. On Wednesday June 27, communications were delivered to the twelve regional appellate courts that invited them to sit on an extraordinary court. As you can see, all twelve members agreed to sit."

"My fourth use of the special powers was to have all seven people identified by the Special Counsel arrested and held incommunicado in the DCA hotel across the street on Friday June 29. Deputies are there now to bring them to and from this court and to ensure that they do not communicate with each other."

"As to the procedures that we will follow today: Suspects will be brought before the twelve justices one at a time. They will be informed of the reasons they have been brought here and under what authority. The Special Counsel may ask what questions he wishes to ask. If any suspect choose to confess to the charges, he will be bound over to later today at which point this panel of twelve justices will determine his fate which will not include capital punishment. If any suspect refuse to confess, or is found to lie during his supposed confession, he will face a subsequent trial but with his lawyer present. These same justices will determine his fate. If found guilty, he may face capital punishment as is permissible in the constitution in exceptional circumstances."

"One last detail. The Special Counsel who you will meet today volunteered for this duty in spite of a hectic legal calendar of his own. He has served with distinction as both a prosecutor and a defender. He has taken on this duty pro bono even though he is entitled to significant compensation. He has paid the costs of all of his investigations including hiring staff to assist him in his inquiries. He is not a citizen of Colorado. Thus, there can be no valid accusations that he has acted as Special Counsel for pecuniary gain or for political gain. His only request to us is that he not be identified by name. He wishes to be an anonymous benefactor to the State of Colorado."

The governor and the lieutenant governor left the legislative chamber and relocated to the public gallery where they removed their ceremonial robes and sat to watch the proceedings.

### # # # # # # # #

The special counsel followed the same opening routine for each of the defendants brought into the courtroom. First, he levied the main charge: Conspiracy to remove the duly elected Governor of the State of Colorado from his position, try him on fake charges in a grossly prejudicial trial in front of the Supreme Court of Colorado, ensure that he was found guilty of the fake charges, kidnap him and convey him secretly out of state where he would face thirty years of imprisonment.

The special counsel's secondary charge was: Conspiracy to create a fake accusation against the governor's campaign manager, try her for fake charges in a grossly prejudicial trial in front of the Supreme Court of Colorado, ensure that she was found guilty of the fake charges, kidnap her and convey her secretly out of state where she would face ten years of imprisonment.

Let's see how that worked for the first defendant.

"State your name and position."

"Lina Langevin. I am the trial recorder for the Colorado Supreme Court."

"Do you understand the charges you are facing."

"I do."

"Do you understand that these are crimes which can lead to capital punishment?"

"I do."

"If you willingly confess to these charges, capital punishment will be off the table. If you lie during your confession or fail to give a full confession, you will be indicted for a later trial and face the prospects of capital punishment. If you choose not to confess, you will be indicted for a subsequent trial during which you may have a lawyer present. If you are found guilty, capital punishment will be on the table. Do you wish to confess?"

"I do."

"Proceed."

[Narrator: We'll skip this part. Sheila in her role as Lina gave a full confession of her crimes. Under further questioning from Stu, she told what she knew about the other defendants and how they participated in the fake trial.]

"Do you wish to say anything in defense of your actions?"

"I'm young. I was stupid. I wanted some excitement and some extra cash. I never realized how bad it would be for the governor and his campaign manager. I wouldn't have participated if I had known that."

### # # # # # # # #

The second defendant was the incompetent defense lawyer. He also chose to confess. Under further questioning, he told what he knew about the other defendants. In his defense, he said that he hadn't known how bad it would be.

You can see what Stu was doing here with his defendants. Start with the bit players and turn them into witnesses against the main organizers. This is standard operating procedure for any prosecutor. The defendants who came into the trial after others had testified will be wondering if the others had talked or not. This will put a lot of pressure on them to tell the truth.

The prosecutor was next and he chose to confess as well. A brief recess followed and the trial continued with Supreme Court Justice Pinkney Phatsew.

### # # # # # # # #

"I have nothing to confess to. I sat in a duly appointed trial where evidence was received and judged. The prosecutor gave a compelling case. The defendants could not explain their actions."

"Very well. You do understand that others have appeared already."

"Yes, I do. This special trial of yours is a mockery. You're doing exactly what you accused us of doing. Fake evidence, fake trial."

"Let me replay a little snippet of evidence that I obtained as part of my investigations."

At that point, Stu wheeled the big screen into the main court space and positioned it so that the justices and the defendant could see. He turned the unit on and advanced the feed to a pre-designated spot. "Do you recognize the man on the screen?"

"Yes."

"Who is that man?"

"The chief justice of the Supreme Court."

"The first voice that you will hear has been altered to protect another suspect who has already confessed to the charges."

_"You, Pinkney, and Thadeus knew what the CBA was doing and agreed in advance to rig the trial so that the governor and his campaign manager would be found guilty. You managed to do this even though the trial before the Supreme Court was deeply flawed. You invited all of the justices who railroaded the governor to your meeting on Friday night. The prosecutor and defense lawyer are coming. Justin Justice is coming too. Everybody invited to the meeting is guilty as sin. Right?_ "

"Yuh."

"Justice Phatsew, would you like to confess now?"

"Yes."

### # # # # # # # #

The same short snippet was sufficient to persuade Thadeus Stretch, the second Supreme Court justice to confess as well. For Justin Justice, the Director of the Ministry of Justice, and for Stinky, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Stu played more significant portions of Stinky's conversation with Lina. He also informed them that other defendants had confessed fully and had corroborated the evidence played in court. Both decided to confess to avoid the capital punishment charge.

After the trials were concluded, the twelve justices reviewed the evidence and asked some questions. Some of these were along the lines of "How did you....?" Stu declined to answer those, stating merely that everything he and his investigators had done was legal. He did inform the justices that Lina Langevin was the person in the video whose voice had been obscured. She had volunteered to work undercover when she had first been questioned.

One justice wanted to probe further. "Did you offer her a reduced sentence?"

"Yes, I did. That is standard operating procedure. The first person to flip receives a deal. I was also prepared to offer her witness protection, but that wasn't something that I could do. That's strictly up to you."

"Why did you feel that witness protection was necessary?"

"She would be unsafe if some of these men weren't found guilty, if some of them received short sentences, or if word got out about this trial and what she did."

"Do you have a recommendation?"

"I do. She's young. She made a stupid mistake but she tried to make up for what she did by working undercover. Her conversation with the chief justice was good enough to convince all of the defendants to confess. I would suggest six months of incarceration followed by assistance in relocating to a different state."

### # # # # # # # #

The twelve justices all agreed that consequences had to be severe. Where they had difficulty was laying out the gradation of the consequences. They all agreed that the sentences given to Stook and his campaign manager were too long and intended to be cruel. They wouldn't use that as a precedent.

Lina Langevin was sentenced to six months incarceration followed by witness protection assistance.

The defense lawyer was expelled from the Colorado bar and was sentenced to three years of incarceration. _[FYI: If a lawyer or justice were expelled from the Colorado bar , that meant that he'd have to find some other line of work if he wanted to stay in Colorado.]_

The prosecutor was expelled from the Colorado bar and was sentenced to five years of incarceration.

Justice Pinkney Phatsew was expelled from the Colorado bar and was sentenced to ten years of incarceration.

Justice Thadeus Stretch was expelled from the Colorado bar and was sentenced to ten years of incarceration.

Chief Justice Chauncey Vaughn (Stinky) was expelled from the Colorado bar and was sentenced to fifteen years of incarceration.

Justin Justice was expelled from the Colorado bar and was sentenced to fifteen years of incarceration.

### # # # # # # # #

Narrator confession: The three members of the Supreme Court served their sentences and went on to live changed lives outside of Colorado. They have descendants who would be harmed if I revealed their true names so I gave them the names Fatso (Pinknew Phatsew), Stretch (Thadeus Stretch) and Stinky. Fans of the Casper the Ghost flics may recognize these were the names of Casper's three uncles otherwise known as the ghostly trio. Perhaps they should be known as the _ghastly_ trio.

Readers may also have noticed that the three members of the Cattlemen's Association were not included in this trial even though they could have been charged for bribery. Melissa had something else in mind for them.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 35

The day after the trial, Governor Stookenhap volunteered to take Lina Langevin to the California Penal System Facility for Women in Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley National Park to serve out her sentence. He was planning to take a short vacation for real this time and would be going in that direction anyway. Ministry of Justice officials gave him the necessary papers to process prisoners in and out of the facility, so off they went. Lina Langevin was handcuffed to an iron ring in the back of the Ministry of Justice's copter. On the way there, Lina somehow managed to get out of the handcuffs, lose a wig, change out of a prison smock, and dress in an entirely new set of clothes from a set of suitcases that had been secretly placed in the copter's storage bin. Stook kept his eyes on the far horizon as Sheila was bashful about changing clothes in front of him. More on that later.

Stook set the copter down in front of the prison and a few minutes later, the Sheila Enderby prisoner was brought to the front desk, given a paper bag with her civilian clothes, and released.

"It's you!" Sheila #2 exclaimed on seeing the woman standing in front of her.

"We'll explain outside," the real Sheila said.

"You're free, but we can put you right back in," Stook warned.

Sheila #2 showed no signs of bashfulness, throwing off her prison clothes and climbing into her civilian clothes on the way to the copter. Stook could have arrested her for littering, but chose not to. He had never seen anybody take of all of her clothes that fast before.

In the air, Stook gave her a condensed version of what had happened back in Colorado. Sheila #2, now going by the name Lina, became cranky. "You kidnapped me and put me in a jail," she complained.

"For six months," Sheila countered. "In a place where you would be safe if Stinky decided to remove you from a list of potential witnesses. If we hadn't put you in the prison, and if you were still alive, you'd be starting a three-year sentence right now. Plus we have a small relocation fund to help you start a new life."

"Sheila and I are on our way to Mexico for a holiday," Stook explained. "Where would you like to start your new life?"

"Mexico is good. I'm part Mexican on my mother's side. I grew up hearing Spanish."

### # # # # # # # #

They arrived at nightfall in a Mexican resort famous for its beaches and full service offerings. Stook and Sheila found the service they wanted and Lina offered to help them sign some Spanish papers. Then it was dinner, which became a celebration of their arrival in Mexico. Lina offered to show Sheila how to drink tequila. Stook already knew how, so he didn't have much to do except look at his two dinner companions and smile. Their faces were remarkably similar in appearance, so much so that the hotel staff thought the two women were sisters.

The next day, they met for an early lunch and then decided to hit the beaches. They were surprised to find that the beaches were _clothing optional_. Lina once again demonstrated how to disencumber herself quickly of her clothes, but to be fair she was dressed skimpily to begin with. Sheila demurred, which was not surprising to Stook since she would only dress and undress around him if one of them were in a closet and the lights in the bedroom were off. They took turns being the person in the closet. You might say that she was a bit prudish. That's like saying that an alligator is a bit toothish.

Well, the mostly liquid lunch that was inside their picnic basket and the example of Lina walking around on the sand starkers was enough to persuade Sheila to gradually expose more skin to the sun. Stook soon was able to observe that the two had remarkably similar bodies to go along with their remarkably similar faces. This gave him cause to sit in a comfortable camp chair under a big umbrella and smile a lot as his two companions frolicked in the water. If Stook had smiled much more, his teeth would have been tanned.

### # # # # # # # #

When they weren't on the beach, and after they had tired of wandering down the streets of the local village, the three of them could be found in the air-conditioned lounge. Apart from some obvious personality differences, the two women were very compatible. What happened in the past happened in the past. This was now. The two women found out that they had very similar views on the question of what Stook should to do about the Supreme Court and the regional courts as well.

"You need a woman on those courts," Sheila said.

"I know. I've been looking. I can't find any women judges in any of the courts in Colorado."

"That's not surprising. Colorado doesn't have any women lawyers," Lina said. "Colorado doesn't even have any courses on how women could become a lawyer."

"How do you know that?" Sheila asked.

"Because I looked. I became a court recorder because that was the closest I could get to being in law. It was boring, boring, boring. Being a secretary for a dinosaur like Stinky was demeaning. I was way smarter than him."

"He was a little slow," Sheila concurred.

"No programs at Denver University? University of Colorado?" Stook asked.

"None. The people in their law departments say that there's no interest. Those people are all old male fuddy-duddies. There'd be interest if women were given a chance."

"Women can't protect themselves from sexual abuse if all the judges are males. I found that out myself. I also had friends in the ministries who were taken advantage of. Wives get abused. You can't take a guy to court on anything sexual and win. Why try?" Sheila with the outburst.

"I knew that you had been abused but you didn't say anything about that up to now."

"That abuse is why I hid my body from you. What's the point of trying to go to court? Colorado is a white supremacist state and that means it's a male supremacist state as well. Melissa told me that she grew up with white supremacists and they regularly beat their wives. Nobody stopped them because the men were in charge."

"Who's Melissa?" Lina asked.

"A new friend. Stook, how many women do you have in cabinet? How many women are in charge of big businesses? How many women are in law enforcement?"

"Zero, zero, and one. I only know of Bean, but she isn't from Colorado."

"Who is Bean and why does she have such a strange name?"

"Long story."

"You gotta do something, Stook," Lina pushed.

"Yeah, you do, you old smiley face."

### # # # # # # # #

Stook made a few announcements when he returned to Denver. Starting immediately, he was creating a new cabinet position, the Ministry of Justice for Women. Within ten years, every regional court as well as the Supreme Court would be required to have at least one-woman justice. Denver University and the University of Colorado would be required to establish fast track programs for women wishing to be lawyers. Failure to do so would result in cuts in the government funding that they received.

Colorado's First Lady would become the state's advocate for equality of opportunity for women in the legal profession. She would receive government funding to hire a staff to investigate complaints about injustice to women in the court system.

After a suitable period of time during which Lina would become deeply tanned, fluent in Spanish, and a law school graduate, the First Lady would invite a distant cousin from Mexico to join her staff.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 36

It's Monday and a full week has passed since Rat's grand opening. There have been a number of developments in Hell and Satan had called Lord Percy into his office to brief him.

"Easter eggs? Rat is selling Easter eggs?"

Satan lobbed an Easter egg across his black diamond desk in response to Lord Percy's incredulous question. "They have a chocolate shell with a creamy interior. I've heard of them before but never tasted one. They're quite delicious." Satan stripped the wrapping off his last remaining egg, bit the lid off, scooped out the contents with a black viper shaped tongue, and munched the bottom.

Lord Percy unwrapped his egg, examined it from a distance, and smashed it into smithereens on the desk with his fist. "Did Rat realize what he was selling?"

"He said he ordered everything in the store himself. I was most specific in my question. He's not blind. They're right next to the checkouts where he spends most of his time."

"Is Rat going soft on evil?"

"No. He's torturing the beejeebers out of thirty souls. I saw one get its arm severed by a chainsaw. Blood everywhere. Terrible screams especially when they tried to drag it off stage. The medics had to terminate it right there. Rat was sitting beside me, loving every minute. I'd have sensed it if he had been faking."

Satan brushed the debris of the smashed egg onto a piece of paper, funneled the remnants into his mouth, and passed the paper to Percy. "Here's the latest news out of Heaven."

...

"Mortals in BC are happier than they've been in a long time? Heaven's centrally-administered thought messages are actually working?" Percy was incredulous for the second time that Monday morning.

"That's what our underfeather agents are telling us."

"Impossible! Preliminary data from the torture sindustry's quarterly reports are showing significant increases in their torment levels in BC. Their biggest in a decade. How can human happiness be going up if our torment levels are going up too?"

"According to Bertram, Heaven's thought suggestions are working in British Columbia better than their guardian angels ever did. He says Heaven's business plan committee has been told to commit a massive amount of resources to acquire computerized thought-signal generators. Apparently, they are planning to expand their program."

"You're sure it was Bertram who sent the message."

"Yes. The 'it's me' word was there. Plus, Randall sent a similar message. He copied some secret statistical reports that were being run on the computers in his department. Heaven's prayer data show huge increases in mortal happiness."

"But our torment numbers..."

"When did devils ever tell the truth about the torment they've inflicted? Rat was right when he said there had been massive fraud."

"But, you fired Rat."

"Not for saying there had been massive fraud. There had been. I fired him because he wouldn't share Firewall's technology. Identifying mortal targets with Firewall's aura-revealer technology should increase our torment levels beyond imagination. Besides, Rat was showing signs of losing his evil. He was trying to turn devils into angels, for God's sake." _[Satan routinely broke his own rule about indulging in 'potty mouth' language, albeit only in the sanctity of his own office.)_ ] "In hindsight though, we may want him to finish the aura quantification software he was developing."

Satan had to clarify - Percy was confused.

"Rat's consultant was developing aura quantification software to measure mortal auras. Rat was going to use the quantification software to calculate company torment levels accurately. Using those measures, he'd be able to accurately calculate how much torment companies had achieved. Right now, companies are inventing the figures. I stopped him because removing the fraud from the markets would wreck havoc on Hell's immoral fabric. Evil needs to be encouraged and nurtured. But right now, I need accurate torment data and Rat's quantification software will give me that. If Heaven's claims are valid, then we'll use Firewall's Aura-Revealer technology to beat them."

"Bertram said that Heaven was just broadcasting the same _Be good_ ' message to everybody."

"So, if we send a unique message to every mortal, one that is keyed to a particular personal weakness, our messages will be much more effective. We'll crush Heaven and they won't know what hit them. I'll leak a fictional report that will predispose devils to the possibility."

"You'll get Firewall to write the aura-quantification software to check company results?"

"Perhaps. Rat's consultant is also developing something similar. Plus, Firewall is trying to break into the computer that controls the finances of Rat's store. She'll be trying to keep him out. We'll see who wins."

### # # # # # # # #

Currently, the mortal half of that competition was watching Meghan working on her computer. She had obscured her keyboard with the copyholder so that Rat couldn't see what she was doing. Not that he checked any more. He spent his days and nights wandering around the message boards. Meghan tortured herself early each morning so that she could dedicate the rest of her time to running the store from Rat's cave. She was obviously doing something right now that she didn't want Rat to see. Winnie tried to zoom in on the computer screen to see what it was. Meghan's body obscured the view.

Arthur would have been able to see Meghan's screen but he was snagging food off of devil's plates. Winnie actually wanted him to do that. Having devils angry at Rat was part of her long-term plan. Also, eating junk food gave Arthur pleasure and he needed that since his fire nightmares were increasing in frequency and intensity. He continued to pretend that they weren't bothering him. Obviously they were. She'd have to do something soon.

Meghan wet her fingers with her mouth and put her fingers on the screen. There must have been something sticky on her screen.

### # # # # # # # #

Later that Monday evening. Bed time. Paula had transported herself to Earth so that she could lie in some sun. Arthur wasn't looking too keen to go to sleep.

"I want to show you something in my bedroom," Winnie said and entered the bedroom. Arthur followed somewhat reluctantly because Winnie had mentioned in a previous operation that no men were allowed in her bedroom. _[Remember the Halocracy, #15.]_

"I've told you that I have healing powers, but for them to work, my hand has to be on the skin closest to where you hurt. You'll sleep on the left side of my bed," she said. "Face the wall, so that your back will be to me. I'll sleep on the right side. This rolled up blanket will stay between us. I'll sense it if you get one of your nightmares. I'll send you soothing mental messages and I will put my hand on your forehead or your neck. You should feel a tingling sensation. When the dream passes, I'll keep my hand there and you'll feel better in the morning."

"But, you won't sleep."

"I'll sleep after your nightmare passes. I'll find a way to keep my hand on your skin and sleep at the same time."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want to keep getting these nightmares?"

"No."

"Then we need to try this."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 37

It's Tuesday and DBBN had data on the store's revenue to show Rat. He'd be happy about that. However, in that first week, she had spotted a problem that could restrict their future growth. The souls that they needed to restock the shelves were being tortured to death too quickly. The solution was going to cost him tormentts. He wouldn't be happy about that.

"I have an easy solution," DBBN handed Rat a sheet of paper with her cost analyses. "The stage shows are proving to be an enormous success. The combination of angels being maimed, the slapstick elements, and the interactive features are drawing huge crowds. Tickets are being scalped at enormous profits."

"Only my own scalpers, right?"

"Of course," DBBN confirmed. "We don't sell advance tickets to anybody else. The problem is that we've had more wear and tear on the staff than I anticipated. We won't be able to keep up the current schedule of shows. That would be unfortunate since they're bringing a ton of devils into the store, plus we're getting good money from the popcorn, candy, and pop sales. If we have to cut back on the number of shows, that will reduce our profits. I've costed out three options." She drew Rat's attention to the spreadsheet printout in front of him.

"Option #1 is to hire twice as many staff. Your total costs for this option are here," she pointed to the bottom of the left column.

Rat scanned through the list of maintenance costs. Her estimates were close enough. He nodded.

"Option #2 is to maintain the number of show staff at thirty, but increase the speed of their health restoration so that they can work every day. Currently, when one of them dies or is maimed, you lose the soul for two days, sometimes three. Here's what you would pay HISS to restore them more quickly."

Rat perused those figures as well. He nodded.

"I should point out that you'll incur health restoration costs no matter what you do about staff erosion. It's the maiming and killing that are drawing the crowds. You can't eliminate these costs."

"So, what's Option #3?"

"We buy our own health restoration machines and process the souls ourselves at the store. That way you'll eliminate all the HISS charges, reduce the turnaround times, and maintain staff at current levels. I checked on the cost of used machines and your total cost for this option is here."

"Too high."

"These machines are not cheap. But, look at the revenue you're bringing in from these shows."

...

"It would take only six weeks to recover my capital."

"And from that point on, you'll never pay HISS another tormentt. After seven months, option #3 will be cheaper than both option #1 and #2 and your profits will be increasingly greater." This was a strong argument. The bills from HISS caused Rat to have a hissy-fit whenever he had to pay for even DBBN's health restoration costs.

Rat was undecided. He hated spending money on souls. He hated sending large sums of money to HISS even more. DBBN pressed on.

"Option #3 has another attractive benefit. By keeping staff numbers at thirty and restoring their health daily, you can inflict show torture on them daily. You won't have to worry about not making torture quotas. With this option, you'll double the staff's torture levels."

### # # # # # # # #

"We can double the torture levels." That's what the leaked report from the Division of Torture Planning claimed. The report predicted that if they worked solely from Hell with new target marketing software, Media Manipulation devils could produce twice as much torture on mortals than devils could inflict with traditional tools. Hell's new tools would be advertising, spin doctoring, and marketing, all enhanced by technology. Welcome to the new age. Goodbye to the old. Satan was reading the report carefully, sources said.

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie's Monday night's experiment of inviting Arthur to sleep in her bed had worked out well. For Arthur. He did get another dream and that provoked a lot of twitching that woke Winnie up. The soothing mind messages seemed to work as did her healing touches. He didn't wake up until morning. However, Winnie had difficulty sleeping after his dream. She needed to keep her hand on Arthur's face to give him some healing help, so she sat up against the headboard to do that. That position against a hard wooded surface was very uncomfortable. She tried putting a pillow behind her that helped, at least in terms of being able to keep her hand on Arthur's face. However, she couldn't go back to sleep. She ended up trying to slump down against the headboard and did fall asleep eventually. But she also awoke with a headache and stiff neck. This wasn't going to work.

Tuesday night would found her in a different sleeping position. Arthur seemed comfortable sleeping on his right side, so she kept that part. Arthur slept soundly, so he probably wouldn't notice if she took out the blanket keeping them apart after a dream. It had prevented her from getting close enough to maintain hand-on-skin contact. She had another reason as well.

Winnie tried it that night when another nightmare produced the twitches. She sat up in bed to give him soothing messages. When the twitches stopped, she extracted the blanket and threw it on the floor. Then she lay down on her side and cuddled as close as she could to him with her upper body. She slipped her left arm under Arthur's left arm so that her hand was touching his cheek. Arthur left arm pressed against her arm, keeping it securely in place. This allowed her to relax and fall asleep, her face resting comfortably on her pillow and pressed up against Arthur's shoulders. Not wishing to have any further bodily contact, she avoided curling up behind him.

The next morning, Winnie woke when Arthur started to move. During the night, her lower body had developed a mind of its own and was curled up tightly behind Arthur's in a spooning position. She extracted her arm, rolled over to face the other way, and pretended to sleep until he had left the bedroom. She waited a good fifteen minutes reviewing how the night had gone before getting up. Arthur had already left the apartment.

Arthur had gotten past the nightmares quickly enough; whatever harm they might have done mentally seemed to have been resolved, at least as far as her fingers could determine. Winnie herself had slept well, although she wasn't happy about the tight cuddle that she woke up to. Still, Arthur didn't seem to have noticed. And it was more natural to sleep in a curved position as opposed to a straight-line position. She saw no reason why she shouldn't continue to cuddle tightly behind him.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 38

Wednesday, July 4. Word quickly spread through Hell that the Division of Torment Planning had recommended that traditional mortal tortures be discontinued in favor of thought messages sent to humans by the Media Manipulation Division. It was only a recommendation so far and devils could voice their opinions on the message boards.

Rat had a strong opinion, but didn't know how to use the message board. He decided to cool down by watching Tuesday morning's tape of DBBN's torture, but watching her knock herself unconscious on the floor padding once again angered him even more. Rat immediately confronted her.

"The pain was too intense. You should be pleased. It means the potency of the perfume has increased. I could tolerate it before."

Well, yes, that part was good, but they had agreed that they couldn't take the chance of her travelling to HISS. What if she had killed herself? Plus, he had another question. "How did you knock yourself out? The padding is more than thick enough to prevent injuries."

"I found a lump in the floor by accident. I figured I could knock myself out if I hit it dead on. I didn't kill myself," she added in an attempt for mercy. Good luck with that.

Rat supervised her while she added extra protection to that particular spot on the floor. He knew what was there - a little extra padding was a good idea. Then he told her that she'd have to torture herself this evening as punishment.

### # # # # # # # #

"We're number 666. We're number 666." The chants of devils filled the air inside the SinSin-atti convention centre that Wednesday afternoon. Each devil was wearing the divisional uniform: a black T-shirt with the logo _Marketers do it by branding_ on the front complete with an image of a smoking branding iron in the shape of Satan's profile on the back. A red beret slung rakishly over one horn completed the divisional outfit designed by the director, who I remind you was a devilette. Having everybody wearing the same colour coordinated _outfit_ complete with a red beret probably was a clue.

The Media Manipulation Division's senior executives had convened an emergency meeting after they read the leaked report that promised incredible power for the division. The message boards were already filling with comments, some of them pro, most of them con. The executives decided they should flood the boards with pro messages. Satan was bound to be reading the boards. Leaked reports didn't happen by accident; and, after all, their forté was media manipulation. They had called this afternoon meeting to galvanize their staff.

The director stopped the chants and continued her rousing speech. Firewall was standing beside her, not sure what he should do with his left arm. She had her right arm around his waist, pulling him close, fingers squeezing his flesh from time to time. Should he put his arm around her too? Over her shoulder? He decided to do nothing. She'd be finished soon.

"Read the message boards. Keep up with the debate. Feel free to participate." The director led the staff in another round of "We're number 666", waving her red beret in the air. She threw it in the air after the sixth cheer and everybody followed suit.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat spent most of Wednesday evening on his computer - quite an oddity considering how much he hated them. It was all because of three e-mails that were waiting for him when he returned from the store.

The first was from Patsy Phew.

_All but one of the computer hackers have given up trying to break into the store's computer. The persistent one has been back repeatedly, being very careful, not exposing himself, but I know he's there. He's very good. On a happier note, I've resumed work on the quantification software project that you requested. It shouldn't take much longer to complete._

Rat figured that the persistent intruder was Firewall. It didn't help his mood that everybody in the store had been talking about the Media Manipulation's thought messages and Firewall's technology. The second e-mail surprised Rat. The sender was a reclusive old-timer name Mack a'Vellian who lived in AudaCity. It took something special to motivate him to communicate with anybody, even another old-timer like Rat.

_Rat, have you seen the message boards recently? You'd think that all of Hell was in favor of dismantling conventional tortures and replacing them with thought messages sent by the Media Manipulation Division._

_Did you know that most of the messages on the boards are from devils who work in the Media Manipulation Division? These media fakers wouldn't know real torture if it crept up and bit them on the tail. Real devils are out torturing. They're not sitting in front of computers spreading lies to other devils! Telling lies can't compare with the atrocities you and I have committed over the centuries, Rat. That's why we've reached weevil grade and they never will._

_If somebody with influence doesn't put a stop to it, they'll convince Satan that all Hell wants their new flimsy, fake tortures. You have the prestige to stop them, Rat. Everybody knows you. They'll listen to you._

The third e-mail came from a devil he barely knew. Ass Squatch had the reputation of having the technical skills of a sack of dead skunks. The message was short and to the point.

_Devils like You and me =+- _- Wwwwe*re ttttoo busy creating new tttortttures ttto know much abouttt computttters. Our voices won:ttt be heard. We need a weevil grade devil ttto champ io nus. one who knows aboutttt computttters and has aname thattt's revered across HHHHell. Thatttt devil is you, Ratttt!_

### # # # # # # # #

Arthur was in his Dim Wit body watching Rat on his computer while Winnie was watching the office with her drone. Paula had left SinSin-atti and was searching for a back way out of Hell. She didn't think there'd be one but wanted to rule it out. Meghan was working at her computer and paying no attention to what Rat was doing. Winnie noticed that once again she tried to clean off a spot on her screen with two spit-covered fingers. She forgot about that when Arthur messaged her.

_He's reading the emails you sent from Mack a'Vellian and Ass Squatch's computers. As soon as he's finished, I'll send him a lot of anger. That should be enough to goad him into action._

_Anger at both Firewall and the Media Manipulation Division, right?_

_Yeah. Sending now._

_..._

"DBBN, show me how to post a message on these stupid boards."

Rat spent the rest of the evening revealing the lies that were being spread by the spin-devils. When it was time for DBBN's extra torture, he gave her the combinations to the locks for the hobby room door, the laboratory door, and the poison cabinet. From now on, she was to do all of her torture on her own. However, he warned her that he would check the hobby room's video camera records each morning. Rat went back to his computer and to the battle he had joined. It was a _crusade_ against all that was wrong with Hell. He probably wouldn't have used that particular word.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 39

Paula returned from her own crusade to find a back door out of Hell Thursday morning. It hadn't gone well, which didn't surprise her. Joe-Joe had said there wasn't such a thing. Still, she had to try. She was sitting on the sofa in the apartment waiting for Winnie to wake up and come out of her bedroom. She heard some rustling noises and so was looking at the bedroom door when Arthur tip-toed out of Winnie's bedroom in his human body, eased the door shut noiselessly, and began to walk towards the kitchen.

_Arthur?_

Startled, Arthur turned, saw Paula, swallowed hard, and choked out, _Uhmm. Going for breakfast now._ Then he was gone.

The word _furtive_ came to mind. So did the word _guilty_. Arthur's behaviour reminded Paula of the time that she had caught Lohla and the neighbour boy flashing each other behind the barn. They were four years old at the time. The boy had fled. Four-year-old Lylah had denied doing anything wrong. She was having trouble with a button on her blouse; he was just helping. A thought flashed through Paula's mind that fourteen-year-old Winnie wouldn't have been having trouble in her bedroom with a button. _You leave teenagers alone for three days and look what happens._

Ten minutes later, Winnie appeared, all buttons buttoned.

"What were the two of your doing in there?"

"Nightmares," she stammered. "I'm sort of a doctor."

That reminded Paula of what Lohla decided to do after Lylah had been caught flashing with the neighbor boy. Never content to let Lylah get one up on her, four-year-old Lohla had suggested a game of doctor with the neighbor boy. When Paula caught them, she had vehemently denied doing anything wrong. The boy had fallen. She was just checking for injuries. He seemed healthy enough to Paula when he was fleeing.

Paula snorted at Winnie's feeble excuse and barged right into her bedroom. The bed was unmade. Paula saw rumpled sheets and the imprint of two bodies in the middle of the bed. "Mortals aren't supposed to have sex with angels," she accused. "What have the two of you done?"

"Nothing!" Winnie Lohla'd back.

"Did he...?"

"No!"

"Did you..?"

"Paula! What do you think I am?"

Paula didn't want to share that thought right now.

### # # # # # # # #

It took some time, but Winnie and Arthur finally got the sleeping together scene explained to Paula's satisfaction. Arthur described his dreams and how they had been getting worse until Winnie had helped. Winnie showed Paula how she had helped Arthur the first night and had slept with the rolled up blanket between them. She explained that she really did have healing skills. Arthur thought that Satan or some other devil had been attacking him. Winnie confessed that she had been having her bad dream too, but not as bad as Arthur's. She had also thought the dream was an attack. Paula had taken down the details of both dreams and said that she would ask Joe-Joe about them. Perhaps their new bodies were malfunctioning. She said, quite pointedly, that she would be back before murk down. "No more sleeping together in the same bed," she warned. "If Winnie needs to heal Arthur, we'll find another way to do that. Arthur, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Arthur fled the scene saying something about Santa Claus. That left Winnie alone with Paula.

"You didn't say anything about the second night," Paula prompted. "You didn't use the blanket the second night, did you?"

"No. I couldn't sleep with it there. I found a more comfortable way to arrange my hand without the blanket."

"And..."

"I wanted to find out what sleeping next to a boy would be like. How'd you know?"

"Duh."

"Arthur doesn't know."

"Double duh. Of course he knows that a warm female body was snuggled up behind him. Do you believe men lose all sense of touch when they're sleeping?"

"He knew?! Oh my gawd. What must he think?"

"Don't put yourself in this situation again. It's dangerous for you. Things can happen in the night that you think are dreams but aren't."

"Are you sure he knows?"

"Yes. He probably was enjoying it as much as you."

"I wasn't enjoying..."

"Of course you were. It's OK if you enjoyed it. That would be normal. But don't lie in the same bed together again. Not now, not here. That's dangerous for everybody."

### # # # # # # # #

The best way to describe Winnie's feeling on being caught in a sexual moment was to describe it as _instant mortification_. My readers all know that Winnie was less than perfect. Yes, she was a snoop. Yes, she wanted to be involved in all operations no matter what. Yes, she pretended to be daring with her prostitute role. But that wasn't her. She was playing a part. Playing at being a prostitute was as much a way to tease her mom as anything else. But this time, she had actually taken what to her was a big sexual step. Sleeping in a bed with a boy. All night long. And she had been caught.

### # # # # # # # #

The rest of Thursday was normal, if you count Rat spending all of the day on his computer as a normal day. Meghan went into the lab, added some chemicals to the poisons, and then tortured herself to the point of near unconsciousness. Her body had passed the spasming part when Winnie looked in, but the muscles in one of forearms were still twitching. Murk down came and with it a message from Paula.

_I came back from Heaven to send you and Arthur a message. I'm returning to Heaven again. Joe-Joe says that it's very unlikely that a devil is trying to torture or influence you. Something is happening with your advanced bodies. Lillian says that she has to do some research to pin it down. I'll be back probably tomorrow with an answer._

That was sort of reassuring.

### # # # # # # # #

Later Thursday evening, Winnie was rotating through her drones, just keeping an eye on everybody. Rat was still flailing away at his quest to defend the virtue (?) of torturing humans face to face. Winnie could see his posts appear on the boards. He was certainly getting a reaction. A lot of devils were supporting what he was saying.

Meghan had the copyholder obscuring the spy camera's view of what she was typing even though she wasn't typing anything. She was gazing at the screen in front of her. Rat was so engrossed in his quest that he wouldn't notice that she wasn't entering any text even though he was only a few steps away. Winnie could see Meghan looking up at him regularly, and then her head would focus on the screen again. Something on that screen must have been very interesting and she didn't want Rat to know about it.

That prompted Winnie to remember how Meghan had twice tried to scrub off a mark on her screen. No true techie would use spit to do that. It would smear. So why was Meghan pretending to enter data and why would she smear her screen? Winnie had an easy way to find out.

Seconds later, Winnie was in Rat's cave and looking at Meghan's computer screen from a vantage point above her head. When she realized what she was looking at, Winnie thought a Japanese phrase which, when translated into English and cleaned up considerably, would mean _OMG._ Magnify that by about ten if it weren't cleaned up. That will give you a sense of how Winnie had just reacted to Meghan's screen shot.

Before leaving, Winnie took a picture of the screen along with a picture of Meghan's bar code on the back of her neck.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 40

Earlier when Winnie had researched Meghan, she had used a simple directory of Hell to collect information. This time she browsed through purgatory.net until she found the complete sinner database. She used the bar code numbers on the back of Meghan's neck to bring up the following details.

Name at death: Meghan O'Hara.

Born: Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada

Residence at death: Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada.

Cause of death: see note

Date of death: November 15, 2090.

Sins: Murder.

First ten torture pit completion dates: #32,432 - n/a; #24,112 - n/a; #18,569 - n/a; #15,332 - n/a; #44,176 - n/a, #13,856 - n/a, #31,455 - n/a; #38,105 - n/a; #27,443 - n/a; and 30,567 - n/a.

Promotions: Pit parole assignation to Rat du Buboni, November 16, 2090.

Promotions: Apprentice Demon, June 3, 2091 per Rat du Buboni.

Special Notes: Blue Diamond dispensation

### # # # # # # # #

If anything, those details prompted more questions than they provided answers. Let's follow Winnie's thoughts.

_Why is no cause of death listed?_

...

_What does 'blue diamond dispensation' mean?_

...

_She was exempted from any torture pits assignments as soon as she arrived in Hell. Is that common? How would I find out?_

...

_Hell's data confirm that she's a murderer, but she sure doesn't act like one._

...

_I know where she was living just before she came to Hell. Can I use purgatory.net to look at what happened?_

...

_Hell doesn't archive any of their hornocratic surveillance cameras on Earth far enough back for me to check. The halocracy won't be able to help for the same reason._

...

_I could TiTr the information I need, but only after I'm finished here. I need that information now._

...

_There's one easy solution. Who can I trust back home?_

...

_Granny would tell Mom. She'd bombard me with questions when I got back home. I'd have to lie continuously._

...

_Doc wouldn't tell anybody if I asked him not to. Neither would Dad._

...

_Paula met with Mom. Would Dad know about her? Would he believe her?_

...

_He will if I do this correctly._

### # # # # # # # #

Hi Doc and Dad.

This is Winnie. A friend of mine is delivering this letter to you. She delivered a message to Mom before. Perhaps you know about that, or you may have seen her around camp. She can be trusted. I want to ask a favor from the two of you. Could you do a TiTr search for me? The TiTr will be easy. The hard part is: YOU CAN'T TELL ANYBODY WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR ME. Not Granny, and definitely not Mom. If you're wondering if this letter is really from me, my aboriginal name is Little Gem.

You'll wonder why I can't TiTr myself. I'm running an operation that needs my constant attention. I'm working inside a secure installation and my bosses would know if I left. I like what I'm doing and I don't want to lose my job. By the way, I am fine. I hope to be back home in a couple of months. Everything is OK here. Except that I need somebody to TiTr for me.

Why am I asking for this favor? As part of my operation here, I have discovered that a young woman has been accused of a crime that she did not commit. She is facing a terrible future. I'm pretty sure I know what happened to her and who the real guilty person is. But I have to be sure before I can prevent what is going to happen to her. I don't need to prove what happened in a court of law. A set of TiTr images will work.

Here's the information I can give you about this woman. Her name is Meghan O'Hara. She is in her 20s, has a slim build, and has red hair. At the time that this injustice happened, she was living in Halifax and was working as a pharmacist in the local Wal*Mart. Something bad happened to her on November 15, 2090. I need to know what happened. Perhaps she did something wrong. Perhaps somebody forced her to do something bad.

If you TiTr a little bit before November 15, you may get a sense of the kind of person she is. That would be helpful. Also if you could tell me what happened after November 15, that would help me solve this puzzle.

I feel bad about this, but I have to ask. Time will be a problem. I know that you could TiTr in such a way that you could give your answer to my friend if she were to wait in camp for you to return. She's talked with Mom before. Perhaps she can have a little visit with Mom to tell her that I'm OK while you and Doc are TiTr'g. I'm sorry about asking you to keep secrets. I will try to make it up to both of when I come home.

### # # # # # # # #

"Hi Sweetie. Doc and I put on our sleuthing hats and disappeared from camp for fifteen minutes. We were happy to do this for you. You do not need to repay us and yes, nobody noticed us gone at all. We are glad that you are enjoying your new career and look forward to not talking about this when you return to camp."

"Everything here is fine. Melissa has wrapped up an operation that has caught the crooks in the Colorado Supreme Court and exonerated Stook from all of the accusations the DCA had made about him and Sheila. They are now married. Melissa has another operation on the go right now to take care of the remnants of the Denver Cattlemen's Association. You might be back in time to see the end of that operation. We'll be doing a lot of construction at the cadet camp soon. I'll explain later. Now, here's what we found."

"Meghan received her pharmacy training right after high school and joined Halifax's Wal*Mart immediately after graduation. Wal*Mart hired her as soon as they saw her grades. She married Neil O'Hara in July 2089. He left without saying good-bye in April of 2089 when she told him that she was pregnant. She gave birth to a daughter in November 2089 and named her Debbie-Lyn. Her sister, Chelsea lived one block away and ran a day care business out of a small house. Chelsea had one child from a failed marriage and managed to live off the fees she collected from two day care children. When Meghan's maternity leave with Wal*Mart ended in June 2090, Chelsea took care of Debbie-Lyn and the three other children while Meghan was at work."

"Meghan was a star at Wal*Mart and took on increasingly more difficult assignments as her superiors recognized her talents. She was on a career path for senior management in the Halifax store. She was very well liked by staff. Meghan worked long hours from time to time as that generated overtime and she was trying to build up a nest egg to buy a house first, and then develop a university fund for D-L, as she called her baby."

"On November 15, 2090, Meghan picked up D-L from her sister at the usual time and walked to her rented one floor bungalow. She made dinner for herself, fed D-L with some mushy food and nursed her. She played with D-L, bathed her, read some picture books with her and then laid her down to sleep in the second bedroom. By 8 pm, D-L was fast asleep and Meghan was working on an exercise regimen."

"Meghan was scrimping on such things as clothes. Not for the baby. D-L was first priority, and Megan gave her all the necessities. A generous staff discount meant that Meghan shopped almost completely at Wal*Mart and could keep her costs down. But, she was a single mom and she had limited clothes for herself. To make the non-business clothes that she owned last longer, she walked around home partially clothed most of the time. When the baby was sleeping, she exercised in the nude. Less perspiration meant more time between washing the clothes. Blinds were always drawn. Doors were always double-locked."

"At 9:35, Meghan heard a noise from D-L's bedroom. It wasn't a cry, but it was noticeable enough for Meghan to interrupt her exercises, pick up a butcher's knife from her cutlery drawer, and tip toe down the darkened hallway. She waited outside the door, listening. The sound of something heavy falling to the floor prompted her to open the door and step inside."

"The bedroom was virtually black. She had previously drawn the blinds, so there was no chance of any moonlight helping her to see. The hallway light was off because Meghan never turned the light on to save electricity. But there was enough light from the living room to show the silhouette of somebody next to the crib. The figure leaned over and must have reached into the crib because Meghan heard D-L start to whimper."

"Nice baby," the figure said. "I think I'll take her."

"Doc and I have replayed that sound bite many times. All we can say with any certainty is it was a man's voice. From the silhouette, we believe he was shorter than average. He had a brimmed hat of some kind on his head. Not a gentleman's hat; a western hat. Stetson, perhaps. The few words we heard could have been in a southern or western drawl. He definitely threatened to kidnap the baby."

"Meghan immediately attacked him. She was quick and she was athletic. The figures merged in the darkness. We could hear sounds of exertion. She must have managed to get two hands on him and she physically threw him away from the crib and towards the door. We have a one-second shot of the man outlined by the light from the living room as he got up. Both Doc and I believe he was bowlegged. Then Meghan was on him and we saw her knife hand strike three times. We didn't hear any moans or sounds of movement after that, but Meghan was panting and the baby was crying. The man might have been alive, but he would have been seriously wounded."

"Meghan's immediate reaction after stabbing the intruder was to use her pinky ring to call the police. _I have just killed an intruder who was trying to kidnap my baby_ , she said. Then she picked up D-L and rushed out of the house. We could see the baby wrapped up in a blanket; Meghan herself was without shoes and clothes. It was a cold windy rainy night. She sprinted the block to her sister's house, rang the bell and pounded the door until her sister opened it. She said, _I have just killed an intruder who was after D-L. Take her. I've called the police._ Then she started running again. Her sister called out to remind her that she wasn't wearing any clothes. Meghan called back that she'd be back home before the police arrived and would dress there."

"The police arrived in less than five minutes. They found the door wide open. They entered and searched the house. They found an empty crib, a lot of blood on the floor by the crib, a bloody knife, and that was all. They found no victim. They saw no signs that Meghan had gotten back home and had dressed. They never found Meghan in spite of appeals for witnesses who might have seen her running. They conducted a thorough search of the route she took to her sister's home and back. They found no signs of a struggle."

"D-L is now living with Chelsea and appears safe and contented. The investigation into the alleged attempt to kidnap D-L has stalled. The current thinking is that a man tried to kidnap D-L and Meghan killed him as she had informed the police and her sister. The copious amount of blood on the floor suggested she had hit a major artery. They believe the man had a partner, probably sitting nearby in an escape vehicle of some kind. He heard the struggle, entered the home, found his partner's lifeless body and took it so that police would not be able to identify him. He met Meghan as she ran into the house after delivering the baby to her sister. He disabled her and took her away somewhere and killed her."

"This mostly fits the evidence. Chelsea asked how the original kidnapper could have entered a locked house. Meghan would have been in all of the rooms of the house after she arrived home after work. Where was the kidnapper then? The police replied that he was well hidden but they don't know he could have entered the house without leaving signs of intrusion. Chelsea argued that Meghan would never have been overwhelmed quickly in a physical fight. She was a very tough woman who would withstand any amount of pain if it meant her daughter's safety. There would have been evidence of her struggle. The police said that anybody could be knocked out from behind."

"I don't know if this information is helpful to you or not, Winnie. The police aren't looking any more, but they can't close the case without a body. Both Doc and I believe Meghan is dead. Her sister is taking very good care of her daughter."

_And Meghan kisses her baby's hornocratic image goodnight whenever she can._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 41

Winnie, Paula, and Arthur were meeting in Satan's amusement park. This was one of those times when absolute security was needed. They were communicating via thought messages from shoulder demon or soul bodies - again for absolute security purposes.

Paula: _Joe-Joe is certain now that the dreams that the two of you have been experiencing were not sent by Satan or by a subordinate. Lillian searched Arthur's background when he was a mortal and found an incident in his early childhood where he was surrounded by fire and his mother was trying to rescue him. As to Winnie's dream, Lillian believes that this originates from when she was born prematurely. She may have been frightened on her own, or perhaps she sensed fear and the threat of imminent death from her mother. There's ample evidence that very young children can absorb strong emotions from their surroundings or from parents that they will carry with them into adult life. These fears can be removed by recognizing where they are coming from and acknowledging that it's alright to have these fears. It part of what the subconscious mind does to protect the conscious mind._

Winnie: _But why am I getting these now?_

Paula: _Because of the stress you're under, perhaps? They're not sure._

Arthur: _And me?_

Paula: _Again a theory. Joe-Joe believes that the advanced angel body that you're using is breaking down the barrier that separates your angelic memories from your mortal memories. You should not be able to remember that fire incident. For now, both of you are OK. When you get a dream, just recognize that this is not a sign of something that will happen to you in the future. It's a memory of something that happened to you in the past. And you survived. Joe-Joe is doing some research and will talk with you when you return to Heaven._

### # # # # # # # #

Narrator: We're going to skip ahead a bit. Winnie has just explained to Paula why she had asked Hank and Doc to time-travel to the night that Meghan died. This required revealing to Paula that the Wilizy could time travel. Paula and Arthur have now read Doc and Hank's report and they are opening up a discussion about what happened.

Winnie: _I believe that Rat discovered Meghan by accident. We know how he likes to look at pictures of nekid wimmin and we know that her body type is appealing to him. Meghan walked around her house all the time without clothes. He probably found her by wandering around the hornocratic collections of nekid wimmin, liked what he saw, and decided to bring her back to Hell to be the mother of his spawn._

Paula: _But Meghan wasn't having any of that._

Winnie: _Right. He wasn't expecting her to attack him. She actually did kill his mortal body._

Arthur: _Which sent him immediately to the afterlife sorting station, which explains where his body went._

Winnie: _And then he came back to Halifax, kidnapped her, and somehow transferred her directly into Hell. That's why Heaven thinks that she's still on Earth._

Arthur: _Being killed by a small mortal woman would be tremendously humiliating for Rat. His reputation might never survive that. He couldn't let anybody know and Meghan would remember everything. She'd blab at some point, perhaps to get out of a torture pit. So he locked her into servitude with him. That's why she never entered a torture pit, nor will she ever. Rat is blackmailing her to behave by threatening to hurt her daughter somehow._

Paula: _But how did he avoid her going into the torture pit system?_

Winnie: _I don't know. Bribes, perhaps? Influence of some kind? Senior devils are allowed to spawn with mortal women, perhaps they receive other perks. He's a very powerful devil._

Arthur: _And you saw Meghan touching the screen when she had an image of her daughter on her computer. She was kissing her._

Winnie: _As best as she could. In blackmailing Meghan to behave by threatening her daughter, Rat revealed the coordinates of the hornocratic camera in her sister's house. She saw that and figured out a way to gain access to his computer and, from there, how to access the hornocratic camera in her baby's bedroom. She must be very smart._

Paula: _Meghan controls his store now. She controls her own poisoning now. I think that she's coming for him and he doesn't suspect a thing._

Winnie: _I agree. He likes to believe that nobody sneaks up on the Rat._

Paula: _We could have a problem. Winnie is sneaking up on the Rat. So is Meghan. What if the two of you get in each other's way?_

Arthur: _Should we coordinate with Meghan? Winnie, do you have any soft spots in your plan?_

Winnie: _Difficult to say, right now. I have a few iffy spots perhaps. Remember, Meghan offered to help me escape. She's already sort of coordinating with us. What do you think, Paula?_

Paula: _Be ready to take advantage of an opening? The threat is that she might reveal you to Rat in exchange for him leaving her daughter alone._

Winnie: _That won't be a problem with Rat destroyed. Plus, I can bring Meghan with us when we leave. Paula, could you talk to Lillian and ask her if Meghan could be resurrected as a mortal some how if we can get her back to Earth? As far as Heaven is concerned, she's still on Earth._

Paula: _I'll ask._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 42

"Kiss my arse, Firewall!"

Rat must have told the consultant to use this infuriating message whenever he sprung one of her traps. Firewall had been very carefully checking out her defenses whenever he could steal an hour or two at work. He had sent a very weak probe through a back door that few hackers would know existed. She knew it existed. The mocking message meant his computer was fried again.

Firewall began reinstalling all of the decryption software in the puny, expendable computer he had purchased. There were many back doors and he had two other computers handy that could be sacrificed. Persistence would win out in the end.

### # # # # # # # #

The personal e-mail messages from the two weevil devils had pushed Rat in the direction the angels wanted. His rants against Media Manipulation devils had led to a raging debate on the boards about tormenting mortals with computers. Winnie had composed the longer email from the first weevil; Arthur had composed the shorter message. He had always wanted to be the _lesser of two weevils._

Rat watched yesterday's tapes of DBBN's torture. He had fast-forwarded through the slow boring parts, stopping only when Meghan was in action. His entertainment for the day over, Rat returned to the deluge of messages waiting for him on the message boards. He was tired of reading their lies. Rat had lots of time to devote to the cause. Persistence would win out in the end.

### # # # # # # # #

_Rat is going to be more active on the message boards now, Winnie. Did you need me to do anything else?_

_Aggravate the devils in the food court?_

_On my way._

_I wouldn't mind some French fries._

### # # # # # # # #

Paula: _Joe-Joe says that it's impossible for a soul to escape from Hell. All of the entry/exit gates are bombarded by lethal radiation. Afterlife bodies are immune, but since souls are just a collection of electrons, they will never survive the radiation. Paula can bypass the exit gates because she can assume a demonic body._

Arthur _: It was a good try, Winnie._

Winnie: _I'm not done yet. Paula, please ask Lillian this. If we did manage to sneak her out of Hell another way, would Heaven find a way to resurrect her as Megan O'Hara of Halifax. They never did find her body. What if she wandered into town with some memory loss?_

Paula _: I'll ask now. I don't have any surveillance duties right now._

...

An hour later.

...

Paula _: Lillian said that they'd have to create a new body for her. She has no way of finding out what had happened to Meghan's mortal body when she entered Hell._

Winnie _: Did Lillian say that they couldn't resurrect her? Or just that there'd be some tricky details to go through._

Arthur: _Details like creating a new human body without a mother or father and then sticking a bunch of electrons into it and make it come to life and look and act exactly like Meghan O'Hara?_

Winnie _: So Heaven can't perform miracles any more?_

Paula _: I'll ask._

...

An hour later.

...

Paula _: Lillian said that they like the idea of sneaking her out of Hell but they have no way to put her into a mortal body. It would be helpful if you could find Meghan's old body stuffed in a refrigerator somewhere in Hell._

Winnie _: Was she smiling when she said that._

Paula _: No._

...

An hour later.

...

Winnie: _It's time now for Rat to start telling the truth about Firewall._

Arthur: OK, I have some ideas on what he'll write.

Winnie _: Another thing, Arthur. Rat doesn't know it yet, but he's very happy with DBBN and wants to recognize her for how well the store has been doing. He wants to give her another letter to her apprentice demon name as a reward._

Arthur _: I'm on it._

### # # # # # # # #

Devils don't normally give their apprentices many signs of approval. After all, apprentices have to be kept in line and the best way to do that is to constantly berate and belittle them.

But the store had enjoyed another great Beezleday and they had followed that up with three more days of strong sales. A key reason for that success was the six health restoration units sitting in the storeroom. DBBN's staff of souls was tortured and even killed during the day but they were still able to restock the shelves each night.

DBBN was torturing herself every night now. "Too close to success to stop," she had said. And she was. The torture was now approaching the six hour mark. Every night after supper, DBBN went into the lab, mixed up a fresh batch of poison, and dosed herself. Afterwards, she gave Rat a copy of the torture to check.

Rat scanned the most recent torture in the mornings. They were far better than a jolt of caffeine. As she had predicted, there were now longer gaps between the convulsions, but these were as virulent as ever. In between seizures, she lay crumpled on the floor. She had taken to resting her head on the extra piece of padding that Rat had installed, her body curled up on its side, her left hand under her head to give her more support, and her legs curled up in a tight ball. He could tell she was exhausted - little muscles in her left forearm were still twitching well after the all-consuming paroxysms had passed.

Rat rarely saw Meghan in person, since he spent all of his time in the cave - monitoring the message boards and responding when the spin-devils tried to slip something irrelevant into the discussions. Today, he was going to tell the truth about Firewall Freddie. So, too busy to promote her in person, Rat stuck a note on the hobby room door informing her that she would now be known as DBBLN.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 43

"You don't have to put up with all of this, Firewall. You should confront him. He's just a runty old devil."

Focus Test was trying to raise the spirits of a very frustrated and demoralized young devil. Firewall wasn't even close to breaking into the store's checkout software. If anything, the consultant's defenses were becoming stronger. Rarely now was he able to get any penetration whatsoever before the taunting message appeared in bold red letters on his screen. _Kiss my arse, Firewall_.

Plus, after each failed attempt, the data purges accompanying her taunts were now totally destructive. Firewall had installed three cheap computers in the office and was rotating from one to the next. The requests from other divisions for his help installing the aura-revealing revealing technology, setting the parameters, deciphering their findings, and more - all of these were ignored.

Worst of all, Rat was publicly savaging him on the message boards. Repeating over and over again how Rat, a computer novice, had caught Firewall breaking security. "What kind of security expert gets caught by a novice?" he asked over and over and over again.

That denunciation was at the top of every message that Rat posted on the boards. Also, he was impugning Firewall's malevolence, a devil's most fundamental character trait. Firewall had never been to a Devil in Training program. Firewall had never served a day on Earth. Firewall had never demonized a single human; Firewall had never tortured a single soul. How could Hell put its future into the hands of a devil with such an appalling lack of experience in the classical arts? And those venomous public rebukes would be repeated word-for-word over and over and over again.

"Confront him, Firewall. Go right down to his store and charge him with slander. Take a scale from him."

"Slander is a pretty wussy charge. He'd ridicule me even more."

"Well then, go and menace him. You're big; he's a runt. Tell him to lay off!"

"Or what? He has his bird. Should I threaten to hit the bird with my red beret?"

"Goad him into assaulting you with the bird. You can time stamp him for _attempt to maim_. Lots of devils will back you up. The bird's a menace. You can't take food out into the open without being dive-bombed."

"I can't program if both of my eyes are pecked out."

"So, we'll kill the bird first."

Exasperated. Pounding his desk! "But I've been trying to kill the bird! My plan was to adjust the consultant's business software in Rat's store so that devils could shoplift at will. That would devastate his store. Rat would become so mad that he would torture the soul to death. He would send her to HISS. We would put an accomplice in the body. The accomplice would be taken into Rat's cave. She'd let Santa in. Santa would kill the bird. Then, we'd let Ante Up torture Rat and we'd steal his gold. It's a perfect plan except that I can't break into the consultant's software!"

Focus Test was currently _Unfocused Test_. He had lost his focus early in Firewall's 'how to kill Rat's bird flowchart.' "What consultant?"

Firewall's secrecy had been breached. He told Firewall all he knew about the consultant.

"If we tortured her, she could sabotage the store's checkout software. Then your plan would work."

"Except she's behind locked doors that I can't open. I don't have the right entry code."

"You're the computer expert. Access the file to the codes."

"I can't. She's stopping me. My strength is computer defense - not computer offense. Don't you see? She's better than me!"

And that really was the root of Firewall's exasperation.

Finally, they agreed that something different had to be tried. It involved going down to the store, so that pleased Focus Test. He'd like nothing better than taking a scale from the smaller, older Rat. One tiny pretext - any pretext at all would do. Provided that the bird wasn't there, of course.

### # # # # # # # #

Mr. Buboni:

The subtle attempts to penetrate the store's software have all but stopped. The defensive traps have been very successful and my sense is that this initial stage in the siege is now over.

For the last week, only one person has been trying to break through the security. He has not been deterred by his failure. I must caution you that hackers who show this level of persistence usually have some personal reason for making so many attempts. In these cases, they are not willing to accept defeat. When they are not able to break into the system subtly, they adopt more aggressive tactics.

Your checkout facilities are the weakest point in your system. An electromagnetic device, concealed for example within a briefcase or a mobile phone or a tablet, could damage the checkouts if they were close enough. In the ensuing confusion, the hacker might try to penetrate store security by posing as a technology expert or as a cash register repairman.

Prevention is the best form of protection. Don't let anybody set a briefcase, a mobile phone, or tablet on a scanner for more than a few seconds. Be cautious about anybody coming into your store flashing any hand held electronic device. If you know the identity of this persistent assailant, it would be best to not let him in the store at all. Moreover, I would encourage you to increase your vigilance of the store in off-hours. Given enough hours of privacy inside your store, an expert programmer could install an entirely different set of business software onto your computers.

On a more pleasant note, I have finished the quantification software you wanted and it is ready for testing. Please send the data you wanted evaluated.

Regards, Patsy.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 44

From his accustomed position at the store's checkout cages, Rat saw Firewall's asparagus-shaped body lurching across the parking lot. A computer thingy was dangling from his neck. He was also carrying a big briefcase. The kangaroo-tailed devil walking with him had a briefcase too. _Do they think I'm stupid?_

Rat met them before they could approach the doors. "You're not welcome here." As a precaution, he gave Dim Wit the signal to come. Dim Wit alit on Rat's middle finger, a low growl in its throat.

"There's no need for the bird," Focus Test ventured. They had agreed that he would do the talking. "We just want to discuss what you've been saying about Firewall on the net." Firewall and Focus had made copies of every libelous statement Rat had written and were prepared to show them to him. They had needed two briefcases to carry them all.

"Are you his lawyer?" This was an offensive question, tantamount to a slap across the face in chivalrous days. Even in un-chivalrous Hell, reference to the lowest caste of sinners had the subtlety of the guy who brings a fire hose to a bar's wet T-shirt contest. And, it was Rat's second hostile act in the space of a minute. First he had given them the finger, now the slap across the face.

"Are you suggesting I look like a lawyer?" Focus had taken immediate umbrage.

"If the feathers tickle..." In Hell's view, only one thing was lower than a dead lawyer.

The bird grew in size as Focus cocked his brief case and tried to circle behind Rat who twisted and turned to keep him in sight.

Firewall interrupted the circle dance. "We just want to talk. Why don't we go inside, sit down at a table, and..."

"You're not welcome in the store. I know what you're up to. You think I'm an idiot?"

"If the feathers tickle..."

The meeting went downhill from there.

### # # # # # # # #

Immediately after the store closed, Rat drove DBBLN to the cave while Dim Wit patrolled the skies above them. Rat informed DBBLN that from now on, she would work from the cave and he would remain at the store with the bird. After returning to the store, Rat lofted the bird into the air and walked around the outside walls, issuing the _Guard_ command repeatedly during the entire circuit. For good measure, he used the associated hand signal as well - his palms pressed together, fingers and thumbs tight against each other and pointing at what he wanted guarded - the store. He then entered the store and hid near the checkout stations. If there were going to be a break-in, the intruders would come here. Rat settled down for a long night. A slowly diminishing stack of tabloids and magazines allowed him to tolerate the bustle of the souls restocking and cleaning for tomorrow.

### # # # # # # # #

_Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable though near or far_ ... The only two devils on the dance floor swayed to the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole, a famous singer from the previous century.

Winnie's formal wear had been the easiest to arrange. Arthur had chosen an elegant black gown from a Superbowl costume rental store and then told her what size of devil body to create for her surprise. _[In Hell, a losing bet on the Superbowl frequently meant a day in a dress.]_ With no kilts available for rent, he had to select the traditional black tux for himself. But Arthur had still looked quite debonair when he met Winnie at the door to her apartment.

Now that they were dancing, that suave exterior had been put to the test. No mortal dancers have ever faced the challenge of dancing in cloven hooves and especially not on a floor that was slippery and tilted. Winnie was having trouble with her prosthetic heels too, so they mostly swayed in time with the music, an arrangement both seemed to enjoy.

A private ballroom plus Karaoke had been slightly more difficult to arrange. The ballroom itself had been easy - privacy much harder. Torture Pit #32,432 had been designed specifically for dumb ballroom dancers who had tried to cheat, for example by taking performance enhancing drugs (e.g., extract of limburger cheese to make them more limber).

The pit was designed to be an exact replica of a real ballroom, except for two significant exceptions. The circular floor was balanced precariously on a huge steel ball and pots of steaming hot liquids surrounded the floor's circumference. If too many couples danced away from the exact center, the floor would tilt, dancers would lose their footing, and they would slide into one of the large steaming fondue pots surrounding the dance floor. Naturally, the dancers would scramble out, but the hot oil from their costumes would drip on the floor, thereby making it even more slippery. Later in the competition, large vats of various sauces, cheeses, and chocolate would replace the hot oil. Deep fried souls tasted a lot like chicken. After dinner, the floor would be stabilized and the audience given the opportunity to wear off their fondue dinner with an evening of chicken dances. Hell's idea of high culture was finger-licking good.

Two days ago, the pit has been mysteriously sabotaged and the giant steel ball had crashed through a floor to the kitchens below. Without its support, the circular dance floor had come to rest at a slight tilt. The pit was closed indefinitely. A few shovels of sand had been applied to the dance floor earlier this day and presto: a private ballroom.

To cap off the evening, Arthur gave Winnie the tour he should have given her months ago, teleporting from one location in Hell to the next, but appearing as real, normally attired devils at each attraction. When she asked why they were taking the risk, Arthur replied only that he was trying to make up for some mistakes he had made before they had to leave Hell.

They ended their evening at the long-abandoned torture pits where they assumed their mortal bodies, flew to the top of the Ferris wheel, and sat in the topmost chair. After admiring the cavern's dome and the twinkling aluminum foil stars that Arthur had made from take-out food wrappings, a male arm was raised and a female form scooted underneath. A few kisses may have been exchanged as well, but we have no way of knowing for sure - there being no surveillance cameras in that part of Hell.

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie had become quite sleepy in the Ferris wheel, even to the point of using Arthur's chest as a pillow. Arthur had dozed off too. It's amazing how a Ferris wheel seat could have been so comfortable.

_[Paula's admonition had been against lying in the same bed together. She hadn't said anything to Winnie about sleeping together upright in a Ferris wheel seat. Or dancing together in a tight embrace, for that matter. And, let's not forget the kissing.]_

They awoke at murk up, teleported into the apartment where Winnie fired up the drones inside and outside of Firewall's cave. "I'm ready," she said.

"I'll drop Santa off," Arthur replied.

Both were all business now.

### # # # # # # # #

Firewall found Santa on the stoop when he left the cave to go to work. What he saw were clumps of fur tufts, plenty of blood, and some bones, most of them cracked or broken. Bird droppings were everywhere. This was a challenge like no other message could be. Rat had crossed the line.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 45

The old adage about genius being 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration doesn't apply in Hell. Cold-blooded creatures don't perspire. In Firewall's case right now, genius was 1% inspiration and 99% frustration. He had the second part nailed but was still waiting for the first part.

Finally, inspiration struck this morning with an idea that had reverberated around in his mind so insistently that he couldn't get rid of it. He opened a large second file from her PC. It was coded but he didn't even try to use the de-encryption software on it - the solution was so obvious. The first file had been a cypher pad. A quick test verified that the first file would unlock the second file.

As Firewall began the time-consuming process of decoding the second file, he realized that she wasn't the super-hacker he had imagined. It was no wonder he couldn't decode her first file. Nobody could decode a file that wasn't coded. She was just a normal mortal. And that meant that the defenses to the store's checkout software would ultimately crumble.

Firewall wasn't paying much attention to what he was decoding - his mind was waiting for the 1% spark of inspiration that would give him access to Rat's store. It was only when the last letter was put in place that he realized what the second file represented. It was the beginning of a program to reveal human auras. Rat was trying to take away Firewall's chance at a lucrative patent by having her create a newer, possibly superior, product.

First Santa. Now this.

### # # # # # # # #

Ante Up wasn't normally a happy devil - most of the time he hated. He hated picking up stiffs. He hated Rat for having too many tormentts. He hated Santa for clawing him and staking him to the ground. And, he hated Firewall and Focus Test for the beating and for trying to cut him out of HIS robbery.

But this evening, Ante Up was happy. It was time to visit his buddies. He strolled up the street and thumped on the door. Two heads peered through the door crack.

"Sorry to hear about Santa," Ante Up said with fake sincerity.

The kangaroo tail and asparagus stick eyed the fire hydrant warily. Since Firewall was now optimistic that he could break into the store's software, Ante Up was as welcome to their cave as cat fur and dog fur were welcomed by tortured souls at the asthma torture pit.

"Have you been following all the commotion on the boards? Rat's been saying some pretty nasty things about you, Firewall."

"We're dealing with that," Focus Test jumped into the conversation from behind the protection of the door.

"Well, you shouldn't have to put up with that," Ante Up said with all the compassion he could muster. "You could get back at him quite easily, but I'm sure you've already thought of that. My plan would be right up Focus Test's alley."

"Yeah, well, we're working on something ourselves."

"After what he did to Santa, Rat deserves to lose more than just his tormentts. Of course, Focus has probably already thought of that, he being so good with words and all."

Firewall and Focus exchanged glances. They didn't have the foggiest idea what Ante Up was talking about.

"Mind you, for my plan to work, you'd need somebody that was good at goading devils to do something that they wouldn't normally dare to do."

Focus exchanged another glance with Firewall and offered. "Yeah, well, that might complement what we're doing, I suppose. Why don't you outline what you've got in mind and we'll see if we're interested."

"Are you sure you want to play games with me? I hear Rat's planning on wearing a Davy Crockett costume complete with a cougar-skin hat for Halloween. What do you say? Do you want to help me with my new plan to get revenge on Rat or not?"

Ante Up conveniently forgot to tell the boys that he had gotten the idea for his plan from a young punk-devil mouthing off against Rat's big talk on the boards. "Firewall should reveal Rat for what he really is," the punk had told Ante Up. "He's a frightened old devil too scared to travel to Earth." It hadn't taken Ante Up hardly any prying at all to learn the whole story.

Ante Up now knew how to take advantage of Rat's weakness. Soon, Firewall and Ante Up would too, but their share of Rat's tormentts would be only 25% each.

### # # # # # # # #

Focus Test's counterattacks on Rat began Thursday, July 12 on the message boards and under assumed names of course.

• Rat had tried to steal Firewall's discovery. In the process, Satan had fired him.

• Rat was so old and burned out that all he could do now was manage a glorified grocery store. Was this the evil of a real devil?

• How could Rat criticize Firewall for not torturing humans when he hadn't been on Earth himself for decades? When was the last time Rat had tortured anybody other than rival retailers or fast food customers?

• Rat was a frightened old devil who was too petrified to step hoof on Earth. He was too intimidated to walk down the sewers of Hell unless he had a dirty, food-stealing scavenger at his side. Real devils weren't cravenly cowards. Real devils didn't cower behind FEATHERS!

### # # # # # # # #

Rat responded immediately to the accusations from his computer in the store's office, adding even more invective to the now very public and very nasty hostilities. He accused Firewall of trying to wreck his business, first by cowardly hacking attacks, and now by these malicious unfounded accusations. Focus test continued to spread the attack across the message boards and Rat was right behind him attacking Firewall.

Rat's store was having great success - at least from an angelic perspective. Devils were now laughing at the insults coming from the giant angel and several fights had developed between amused onlookers and frustrated participants. As with the bucking bronc-angel, devils rarely won. Most were taking their imminent defeat for granted now.

Devils had more success killing soul-angels in the stage show, but only after some greedy devils had decided to secretly work together to win the 'take something you want out of the store for free' prizes. Their collaboration was quickly discovered - devils are acutely suspicious of each other. Within a couple of days, other devils had formed into teams of six and were competing against each other to see how many soul-angels they could flatten. As payment for the 1000-T coin Arthur gave her, Meghan had ordered some blank team jerseys and used the unspent portion of it to open a customized decal service next to the show. Next week, Arthur would propose another new wrinkle - dog collars on the devils as well. It would be only a matter of time before some devils would have an offensive component (zap the souls), a defensive component (zap the other team to prevent them from getting the souls), and synchronized plays. In a few weeks, they'd be spending all of their time zapping each other.

With Rat imprisoned twenty-four hours a day within his store, the angels had more time to watch Meghan who was now alone in the cave. They wanted to see if she were doing anything differently now that she was unsupervised. The only difference they could discern was an increase in her torture hours. None of the angels wanted to watch it. The poison was now working effectively for seven hours - the target being eight hours. The saving grace, if there was one, was that the time intervals between seizures were now quite long. However, even in its diluted stage, the convulser must have been brutal on the body. Whenever any of them peeked into the hobby room, they saw Meghan collapsed on the floor, still recovering from the previous paroxysms. The angels were hoping that she'd achieve the eight-hour target soon. In effect, they were hoping that a powerful mortal-killing poison would be developed more quickly. Their hopes were met that evening.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 46

From the first page of Hell's Underworld SINquisitor, Beezleday Edition, July 15

FIREWALL FREDDIE CHALLENGES THE RAT

Editor's Note: As most devils know, Firewall Freddie has been one of the participants in an intense debate on the message boards about the merits of using technology to send tormenting thoughts to mortals. He has addressed the following public letter to Rat Buboni, the other key participant in that open forum. The Underworld SINquisitor's Editorial Board felt that this issue, and the solution proposed by Firewall, were sufficiently important to Hell's future that we should reproduce his letter in its entirety on our front page.

Rat

You know that I am not a devil with a wealth of torture experience behind me. However, I have nothing but respect for the accomplishments of the experienced devils who are corrupting human morals and inflicting torment on bleating masses of crazed, squawking mortals. But their success does not mean that we can rest on our tails.

In your day, over seven hundred years ago, you used rats to spread your diseases. They were the best torture delivery system available to you. At the same time, your colleagues in Warfare were using bow and arrows, lances, and cavalry charges to kill their mortal targets.

When times changed, devils adapted. You improved your delivery systems, for example, by adopting new aerosol technology. Your colleagues in Warfare began using laser-guided bombs, satellite surveillance, and computerized drones to murder innocents.

But time waits for no devil. We must adapt to the new reality by taking advantages of the tools that today's computers give us. With my aura-revealing technology, we can now target specific human frailties. For every mortal we can photograph, we can determine its vulnerabilities and develop individual tortures that will take advantage of those weaknesses.

No longer do we have to rely on mass distributed torments that might have only a 10 per cent success rate. Instead, Technology-Assisted-Torment allows us to custom-design and apply torments selectively so that they will have a 100 per cent success rate. You wouldn't want your colleagues in Warfare to use 13th century weapons against 21st century armament. Why then shouldn't we use 21st century delivery systems against 21st century mortals?

This does not mean that the Timeless-Interpersonal-Torments that you and other devils of your generation have championed are not worthwhile. There'll always be a place for the common cold and other mass distributed pestilences. Nor should Hell ever forget or minimize the achievements that you and your generation have contributed. However, it would be illogical for Hell to overlook a wonderful Technology-Assisted-Torment tool that can make our dream of torturing every mortal to the limit of its endurance a possibility.

To prove the superiority of TAT, I, Firewall Freddie, challenge you, Rat Buboni, to a personal duel to determine which one of us can inflict the most amount of torment with our preferred delivery system.

I invite Satan's office to set up the guidelines for the duel. I also invite officials from Satan's office to serve as referees not only to evaluate the torments that we inflict, but also to ensure that this duel remain one on one, tail against tail, TIT versus TAT.

Firewall Freddie

### # # # # # # # #

From the first page of Hell's Underworld SINquisitor, Monday Edition, July 16

SATAN APPROVES DUEL

Satan's office released this statement:

Seeing such two strong champions as Firewall Freddie and Rat Buboni measure their preferred form of torment against each other's would be in Hell's best interests. Therefore, my office is prepared to assist in their proposed duel. If it were to proceed, here are the guidelines that must be followed:

1. No devils or demons may assist the combatants either in their preparation for the duel or during the duel itself.

2. The combatants will torment humans within a restricted area on Earth. There are no restrictions on their torment's lethality but they must inflict that torment within a nine-hour period.

3. My officials will evaluate the effect of such torment forty-eight hour after the duel ends. That evaluation will be conducted by objectively measuring before and after levels of torment using new quantification software. During that period, the mortals in the test location will be exempt from all other forms of torment by any demon or devil.

4. The winner of the duel will be the devil whose torment caused the most pain, suffering, and deaths within that forty-eight hour period.

5. Firewall Freddie, the challenger, is prohibited from using any traditional forms of torment. He must use computers to select and apply his torment. By necessity, this means that he must use thought suggestions that must be distributed from Hell. He cannot begin his torment prematurely. He is prohibited from going to Earth. He must provide his version of the quantification software for my officials to use to evaluate the duel.

6. Rat Buboni, the challenged party, can determine the time and place of the duel. He is prohibited from using any computer technology to select or apply his torment. By necessity, this means he must engage in face-to-face torment on Earth. He cannot begin this torment prematurely. He must provide his version of the quantification software for my officials to use to evaluate the duel.

7. Violation of any of the rules listed in this release will result in forfeiture.

8. Since the results of the duel may influence Hell's future policy, and since devils have shown such intense interest in this debate, media observation of the duel is permitted. Only one media representative can be embedded with each combatant and that reporter can only make general comments that will not give any advantage to the other combatant. Other members of Hell's media may film the battlefield and report on terror attacks that they see during the nine hours of the duel.

May the most evil devil win.

Satan

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 47

Twenty-four hours passed slowly with no word from The Rat.

Satan couldn't have been happier with Firewall's challenge. Weeks ago, he had been wondering about the truth of the supposed success of Heaven's new 'centrally administered subliminal thought messages.' After a single leak to the media, Firewall and Rat were close to conducting a field test that would test the effectiveness of Hell's version of Heaven's new thought messages against traditional torture.

### # # # # # # # #

Firewall and his chums were ecstatic about their chances. If The Rat accepted Firewall's challenge, he'd be forced to leave his cave and go to Earth. During the duel, Firewall would penetrate the store's security system and start siphoning store revenues to banks accounts that each of them had just opened. Meanwhile, Ante Up and Focus Test would empty Rat's cave vault, torturing the soul if necessary to gain entry. Rat would return from Earth to find his soul missing, his vault empty, and his store bankrupted. To help push Rat into accepting the duel, Focus Test sent anonymous messages to the boards that referred to Rat's constant use of his hog as 'hug power' and his biker attire as 'feather-leather.'

### # # # # # # # #

The angels were also optimistic about their chances. Ante Up had used Arthur's leaked information about Rat's fear of going to Earth as expected. Now, they just had to ensure that Rat lost the duel, thereby proving that centrally administered subliminal thought messages were more powerful than traditional torment. Hell would adopt the new form of torture and remove demons from Earth.

They faced only one problem, and it was a biggie. Centrally administered thought messages didn't work. Rat's poison did. They had seen it in action. Rat was going to win the duel by poisoning hundreds of mortals.

The key to the success of the mission now rested in Lillian's hands. Paula had been cycling back and forth between Heaven and Hell passing on messages of current developments. This morning, Paula told Lillian that Rat's poison would be administered through a perfume atomizer and that it was highly poisonous but not lethal. Lillian would have to find a way to neutralize the poison for Winnie's plan to work. Paula would tell Lillian when and where Rat would appear as soon as they knew.

Ensuring that Firewall won the duel was much easier. Winnie's aura quantification software would ensure that Firewall won the competition. She had built in a back door that allowed her to determine the size of his victory.

To encourage Rat to accept the duel, Winnie sent him an e-mail warning him that the first line of defense for his store's business software had been breached. She told him that she was now employing an alternate defensive strategy that would block the intruder, but only temporarily. If Rat had any way of identifying the hacker to the authorities, or preventing him from continuing to attack the software, he should do so soon.

### # # # # # # # #

Joe-Joe and Lillian were also optimistic. They would bring biological expertise to the test site. If they could distract Rat long enough for Joe-Joe to steal an atomizer, they'd be able to analyze the poison and then neutralize it or replace it. Lillian would be the distractor.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat couldn't decide. He could disgrace Firewall and, in the process, cement his own position in the upper echelons of Hell's deviltry. Defeating Firewall publicly would protect his store. And, by proving the superiority of traditional mortal tortures, he could increase the fortune he was earning from his patents. These were all good reasons for accepting the duel.

But, eight bubonic plague devils had gone to Earth, and eight devils had returned to Hell only to be liquidated shortly afterwards. Rat hid in his cave, searching and searching for a heavenly plot, but saw only a pedophile devil who had been excused from the torture pits because he was a computer d'eek. Rat could trounce him and the media manipulation scourge with one brief sortie to Earth. In the end, Rat overcame his fears because he found a way to minimize the risks.

### # # # # # # # #

From the first page of Hell's Underworld SINquisitor, Wednesday Edition

DEVILIC DUO DO DUEL: Rat's message to Firewall

Firewall: In my day, devils weren't afraid to get their claws bloody. We didn't sit on soft chairs in air-conditioned offices, reading the morning newspaper, sipping a Star*tormentts and debating whether a crimson red swirl on a piece of ebony black paper would be just the oh so perfect logo for our torture.

In my day, we looked our victims in the eyes and tortured them personally. It's being there, and reveling in how bad the torture impacts them, that creates the joy!

In my day, we started an epidemic by getting right in a mortal's face and sneezing. We didn't go around telling mortals, 'You believe you have a cold.'

I don't like what Hell is becoming. I accept the duel.

Rat de Bubonic

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 48

Rat's acceptance letter prompted a flurry of activity throughout Hell that Wednesday.

In another front page article, Satan announced that he was cancelling the voting for the Dream Team contest and returning all tormentts spent on the contest to the devils who had participated to date. Interest in that contest had dropped off considerably as the message boards became consumed with posts on computer torture versus classical torture. He suggested that devils should bet on who will win the duel instead.

The Gambler's SINnonymous Club set up a TIT/TAT website and the electronic betting on the outcome of the duel quickly became hot and heavy with thousands of devils transferring large sums of tormentts into the web site in the first day of its existence. By the end of the working day, Rat was an odds-on favorite to win. Betting would close at midnight, two days from now, Friday July 20.

Satan's office notified Firewall of the detail of the duel and then began the process of selecting the two media representatives to be embedded with the duelists. This selection was based on which network had offered the largest bribe. The location of the duel was to be kept secret up to the last minute.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat met with DBBLN and gave her a list of tasks to complete. Meghan typed them into her computer as he spoke. Paula was there and could have relayed them to Winnie but she knew she was listening in.

"Find me a hotel room in Victoria, BC, Canada for this Friday evening. Book a display table in a popular mall on Saturday from 9 am to 6 pm. Create some posters advertising the opportunity to sample some perfume. Make up some reason why people would want to do that. Prepare enough atomizers containing the full strength Vomiter to poison five hundred people. I will test the poison twice before taking it with me. Contact a personnel supply office in Victoria and ask them to send five display table assistants to my hotel room for interviews starting at 7 pm Friday evening. I will instruct the winning candidate that evening. Satan's office will be contacting me for the time and place of the duel. Tell them that I'm at the store." And with that, Rat left. And so did Paula.

As any good assistant would do, Meghan arranged the tasks in priority order and then started researching Victoria in general. She knew where it was but not much more. The most time sensitive task was hiring an assistant, so that was her starting point. The city was big enough to have at least one office that provided temporary staff to local businesses.

By this time, Paula was back in Hell. When she saw what personnel office Meghan was going to use, she left again. By this time, Joe-Joe and Lillian would be in Victoria. Paula reached a breathable atmosphere and messaged Lillian with the information. Then, back again she went to Rat's cave.

Paula: Did anything happen in the last minute that I should know?

Winnie: _Meghan is having trouble getting through to the personnel office's receptionist. She was promised a short delay. While she's waiting, she's drawing up the rough outlines of a poster._

Paula: _Here we go. She's talking._

Winnie: _She wants beautiful and busty applicants. Meghan knows her boss._

Paula: _Anything more that Joe-Joe and Lillian will need from us?_

Arthur: I _doubt it. Satan's office just contacted Rat. He gave them the details we already know. Did you notice that Rat plans two tests of the vomiter before he leaves?_

Winnie: _We won't get much warning on that. We should plan now._

Arthur: _Let's meet tonight: I want to hang around Rat until the store closes._

Paula: _I'll stay with Meghan._

### # # # # # # # #

Thursday: two days to the duel.

Arthur: _Meghan is having a nap in the hobby room. I'm free for the moment. Winnie, has Firewall broken through your defenses yet?_

Winnie: _Not yet. He's stuck in the smoke and mirrors section. Paula, what's Rat up to?_

Paula: _He's at the checkout stations, as normal._

Arthur: _Whoa. That was a very short nap. This is interesting. Meghan is leaving the cave wearing a pair of Rat's boots and trundling along in a painful gimping walk. The rest of her body is hidden under Rat's long black shoplifting coat, its upturned collar, and an oversized hat. She's keeping her face down and her hands in her pockets. Other than her short stature, there's nothing to attract attention - or to reveal that she's a soul. Plenty of devils wear these kinds of clothes. She's avoiding the crowds, taking a meandering route. I don't know where she's going yet._

_..._

Arthur: _Meghan is browsing in a party store specializing in medieval costumes. She's looking at the swords. She might be looking for ways to expand the stage show. Now she's back outside._

_..._

Arthur: _Meghan is browsing through the Save Yourself from Heaven store now. Interesting. They have large posters depicting all of the possible ways that Heaven is planning to destroy Hell plastered on the walls. Let's see. Heaven is planning to laser holes in the Earth's mantle to let in sunlight. They're going to use tsunamis to flood the sewers. Here's a good one. Heaven is going to vacuum out Hell's brimstone layer. Large bins under each poster hold solutions to each threat: suntan oil, rubber boots and raincoats, surgical masks to filter out harmful oxygen. It's an end of the world doom store. Would devils believe any of this? I'd guess not. The store is mostly deserted. She's on the move again._

_..._

Arthur: _Meghan is being careful now. She's looking behind her. Now, she's standing still to see if anybody else is standing still. Meandering some more. Checking her back. I know where she's going now. Rat's store is three sewers away._

Arthur: _She didn't go in the front doors. She's working her way around to the back now. Rapping on the delivery doors. The delivery doors are ratcheting up. Two souls in work overalls are on the loading dock. They're looking at the dark silhouette warily. She's taking off the hat and they are rushing towards her. Hugging her now. One is turning around without letting go. He's calling out, "Hey everybody, Meggie's here."_

Winnie: _I have to concentrate on stopping Firewall. Can you tell us later what happened?_

### # # # # # # # #

Thursday evening.

Winnie: _I've lost track of Rat. Do either of you have him?_

Arthur: _I'm on him. Literally. I'm sitting on his helmet that is traveling on a motorcycle without lights after murk down. He's in a rush to get to your apartment. Normally, Rat isn't this brave. We're five minutes away._

Paula: _Firewall's done for the night, I think. I'll join you in the apartment. I want to see the show._

### # # # # # # # #

Rat poked his head around the apartment's exterior door. "Alright if I come in, Miss Patsy?"

"I'm in the office. Don't look at the mess."

Expecting Rat to ignore the mess was like expecting snot not to drip. At least a week's collection of dirty dishes was scattered all over the kitchen counters, along with the remnants of TV dinner plates, crumpled empty bags of potato chips, Fritos, and the like. The trash had overflowed onto the floor. Dirty clothes littered the hallway between the bedroom and the office. Rat knocked on the partially open door of the office.

"Why don't you talk to me from there? I'm such a mess. I've hardly had a chance to eat - this stranger of yours has kept me so busy. He's still lurking in the background so I should probably keep an eye on him."

Rat pushed the door open. It stuck on a discarded pair of jeans that had been lying on the floor, and he sidled through the opening and over some other garments. As he high stepped into the office, he heard the crunch of potato chips. The office was like a bomb had gone off. And the smell! He had read the file on Patsy Phew but still wasn't prepared. He pulled off his glasses and pretended to clean them.

She looked worse than the office, if such was possible. Stringy hair. Grimy, oversized sweatshirt with dark stains under the armpits. He hesitated. Still, it had to be done.

"You've been working so hard. I wanted to thank you. I brought you a little gift of appreciation. I don't know if it's what you modern girls like." Anxious to keep his distance, Rat put the gift-wrapped parcel on her desk and backed away. He almost slipped on a full pop bottle sitting upright on the floor. He looked down. It wasn't full now.

"Oh, how nice of you." Patsy rose to come around the desk, pushing her feet through the accumulations of crumpled computer printouts the way a tot shuffles through her first snowfall. A long, dried crust of what may have been ketchup pointed at the rip in the knee of her baggy sweatpants. "It's like Christmas," she gushed.

Rat had to control his automatic reaction. _Foul mouthed mortal!_

"I should give you a hug, you're so nice."

Rat backed up another couple of steps. He'd have to steam clean his clothes if she touched him. "Not necessary, my dear. I hope you enjoy it."

Well, she shredded the wrapping paper - squealing like a pig that had just learned that only humans could get a sty in the eye. "Perfume! You brought me perfume! Nobody's given me perfume before."

_Probably because they were looking for industrial strength air fresheners instead._ "Try a little. Perhaps on the wrist."

Well, that just wouldn't do. Patsy took the atomizer and sprayed a hefty dose behind each ear. "Mmmm, that smells soooo good. What's the brand? I don't think... Oh.... I thought that sausage looked a little green... excuse me, Mr. Buboni, I'm not feeling well." Patsy bolted out of the office almost running into Rat on the way. A door slammed, but it couldn't completely mask the sounds.

Rat finished his matador twirl, looked around the room with some distaste, and high-stepped his way of the apartment.

### # # # # # # # #

Paula, Arthur, and Winnie were relaxing in her apartment, after putting the apartment back the way it normally was. This was a perfect time for Arthur to tell them about Meghan and what had happened at the store. He also had seen a very interesting devil walking through the dark sewers of Hell.

"So, the two souls took Meghan through the loading dock and into the storeroom. All the souls clustered around Meghan, giving her hugs and kisses - even the six that had been in the health restoration units. She told them to all go back to what they were doing. She'd see them afterwards. One of the souls circulated through the room quietly telling everybody _Twenty minutes to curtain_ , and they all went back to getting ready."

"The souls began adjusting their angel costumes, practicing back flips on a miniature trampoline, and stretching. The stage manager passed out bladders of fake blood and each tested that the bladder would squirt properly. I also saw two souls attaching a fake arm and its controls to another soul's body."

"The whole stage show was a fabrication?" Winnie interrupted.

"Entirely. With ten minutes to go, they fastened the dog collars around their necks and took turns zapping each other. I heard comments like _Good,_ _Turn it up a bit,_ and _Down a bit._ Then, they all practiced their electrocution spasms. The remote controls were collected and taken outside. With five minutes to go, they gathered around the stage manager and each went into some sort of trance, yoga position, or something equivalent. At one minute, he clapped his hand, whispered _Places everybody_ and told everybody to _Break a leg_."

"They were actors?" Paula asked.

"Or gymnasts or clowns. Meghan recruited them from all over Hell. Who knows where she found them or what they were as mortals. But right now, they're putting on one heck of a show, several times a day, seven days a week."

"I thought devils had tested the zappers," Winnie commented.

"They did. But the souls have rheostats in the units. They can dial them up or down without being noticed. Meghan stayed through two complete shows - all of it while lying in her black overcoat under the health restoration rays. The souls gathered around her between acts. It's no wonder they love her. They drink beer after the last show, real food, an energizer boost when they're tired, comfortable living quarters, and no torture. By the way, there are at least sixty of them, not thirty. They keep altering their appearance and moving around the store so that they can't be easily counted. But all sixty came into the back room before she departed and they had another giant hug fest. Speaking of hugs, I thought Rat was going to jump out of his boots when you said you were going to hug him. How was the vomiter, by the way? Did those squirts really make you sick?"

"No, but I didn't expect them to," Winnie answered. "Joe-Joe had said that our advanced bodies are immune from poisons."

"But Rat will still believe that the poison works, but he won't go to Earth without another test. Meghan will get the full works soon."

"Make that now," Winnie announced from her computer. "Rat just took Meghan into the lab and squirted her. Meghan told Rat that she added a twelve-hour delay into the poison so the humans wouldn't learn where it had come from. The dose he gave her should hit her tomorrow morning at 9:15. Meghan must have known that he'd test the concentrated poison on her. That's why she went to the store - to get an energy boost from the health restoration units. Hang on. Now she's suggesting that he close the store on the day of the duel because he won't be there to guard the store and everybody in the city will be watching the duel. He's agreeing, but he wants the souls to clean and restock. She said that she'd keep an eye on them."

### # # # # # # # #

"Did you know that a golden devil is in Hell?" Arthur started a new conversation. "I saw her on the way back to the apartment."

"What do you mean _golden_?" Paula asked. "Like a body completely covered in gold?"

"No, not the entire body. She had golden horns. I don't know if they were solid gold or not, but they were very large."

"That suggests that she's a senior devil," Winnie observed.

"Except that she wasn't big and muscular. She also had golden hands and golden hooves."

"Gold coloured gloves? Gold coloured spats on the hooves?" Paula pursued.

"Could be. Rat was travelling quickly and I only got a glimpse of her."

"You're sure it was a she?" Winnie asked.

"Oh yeah. Devil scales, but mortal face and mortal body underneath the scales. The body gave ample evidence that she was a she, if you know what I mean."

"And she was walking the sewers at night? Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Paula drawing the obvious conclusion about Hell's devils and their fascination with mortal pornography.

"She was pushing a container of some kind on wheels. Rat had to have seen her because he veered away from her even though he wouldn't have hit her."

"Weird."

"I'll ask Joe-Joe about her when I get a chance," Paula closed the conversation.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 49

It's Friday, one day before Arthur and Winnie were scheduled to return to Earth. Their plan to escape was risky, but workable. They would wait until Firewall was out of sight and busy with the duel. If necessary, Arthur would send him urges to be by himself. Paula would disguise herself as Firewall Freddie and sewer cameras would record Firewall dollying the coffin to the UPS terminal. He would pay for the coffin's delivery to Earth with the DNA scale that Santa had collected from him, and then would disappear back into the murk. Winnie and Arthur would return safely to Earth inside the coffin in the same way as they had entered Hell.

Winnie's plan specified that Firewall had to assist with the escape as part of getting even with Rat. His DNA scale would establish beyond a doubt that he had helped Rat's consultant escape from Hell. That might not work out too well for him. Winnie had other surprises waiting for Firewall as well. The risk was that the real Firewall would never be out of public view during the duel and he would have devils supporting his denial of involvement. That would create doubt that Joe-Joe and Lillian had specifically prohibited.

They could plan to escape after the duel was over if they scheduled the departure for late in the day. The risk of this plan was Focus Test might be able to testify that Firewall had never left his cave. There were many moving parts in Winnie's plan for Firewall and for Rat and one slipup, one witness being in the wrong place and.... Well, let's just say that the escape plan was weighing heavily on the angels' minds.

Paula and Winnie spent the early morning cleaning up, as in removing drones and wiping fingerprints from surfaces where there should be no signs of a mortal or angelic presence. Feathers, for example, were a big risk. They extended their clean up to Satan's playground as well.

### # # # # # # # #

While Winnie and Paula were cleaning, Meghan was stifling barf burps. Dim Wit was perched on his high roost in the cave office when Rat looked at the clock and told Meghan, "It's time." She shut down her computer and strode into the hobby room. Rat eyed Dim Wit warily, but Arthur didn't do anything, choosing to accompany Rat into the laboratory rather than stay with Meghan. He took up a position at the back of the room, well away from the balcony. Rat was drooling over the railings, alternately looking down at the padded floor and then up at the clock on the wall as it ticked down to 9:15. Twelve hours and five minutes after the poison had been applied, the noises from the hobby room began.

### # # # # # # # #

The morning passed quickly for Firewall who had the consultant on the ropes. Firewall found the entry point that he knew had to be there and sent a gentle probe. _Anything waiting for me on the other side?_

Firewall's screen flickered and the icons renamed themselves. He probed again. The screen flickered again and the system re-disguised itself in a last desperate attempt to cloak the prize. Another probe. The file names became garbage, but she couldn't mask the basic configuration of the files. He had been in her computer so often that he could find his way around blindfolded. Disguising the folders and hiding the file names meant that he would have to do that work blind. Challenging, but not impossible. Firewall began the final assault.

### # # # # # # # #

Betting on the duel was accelerating. The money was heavily skewed towards Rat winning the duel. One might think from that betting that Hell's denizens were heavily skewed towards Timeless-Interpersonal-Torment. But master statistician that he was, Satan knew the betting wasn't an accurate vote on a choice between the TIT and TAT. It easily could mean that the devils voting for Rat were wealthier than those voting for Firewall. Obviously, old time devils would be wealthier devils than the new breed. Software that could quantify the extent of the two forms of torture that had been administered would decide the champion.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat tired of watching Meghan's torture and left for Victoria early in the afternoon. He checked into a venerable old hotel called _The Empress_ in his usual mortal disguise as Ratko Buboni, cowboy boots, Stetson and all. DBBLN has already arranged payment for the room. Multiple interviews for the personal assistant would not be necessary since only one candidate had replied to the ad. Rat was scheduled to meet a Ms. Zoe Zewinski at 7:30 in his hotel room.

Rat found the advertising signage for his display table waiting in his room. He had transported five perfume atomizers himself. Each atomizer had the capacity to easily infect one hundred mortals provided the personal assistant used a small squirt. He decided to check out the Hillside Mall where Ms. Zewinski would set up. He was looking for a place where he could hide and still see the display table.

### # # # # # # # #

Firewall broke through the last line of defense that the consultant had placed in his way. He explored the electronic surroundings to ensure that no further traps existed. He then confirmed that the computer files were full of numerical data and that she hadn't tried to fool him with any more tricks. He hid several personal place-markers so that he could hack into the same spots again. He also bored a second hole through the defensive barrier in case she found the first. She was good, he had to give her that. Her last defense had been ingenious. But he was better. And tomorrow, he'd beat The Rat. He started the money transfers immediately.

_I'm the champion_ , Firewall crowed to himself. And at 2:15 Friday afternoon, the best d'eek in Hell stood up, waved his arms in the air, and did a little dance of glee, his tail bobbing around behind him. _I'm the champion!_

### # # # # # # # #

"Patsy," the email started. "Are you able to unlock the door on your apartment and open it?" The email ended with the words, "A friend."

_I was wondering if she'd follow through on her promise._ Winnie started to reply but was reluctant to act on her own. But Paula was checking in with Lillian and Joe-Joe In Victoria. Arthur was showing that Dim Wit was still around by haunting the food courts. Devils were now hunching over their trays and shoveling food into their mouths as quickly as they could. That left Winnie to make the decision on her own. _We had talked about the possibility of coordinating with Meghan. Paula had said we should be ready to take advantage of an opening. Well, here's an opening._

"Dear friend. Yes, I can unlock the door."

"Ratko is out of town now and will be away most of tomorrow. This means that you and I can email each other safely. I can help you escape from this place but it has to be tomorrow."

"Just to be straight with you, I know where I am. I know who Ratko is. He's not out of town. He's out of Hell."

"How do you know that?"

"I can read the message boards. I know about the duel. Let's be frank with each other."

"Fair enough. Rat is in Victoria BC for today and tomorrow. I am able to help you escape while he's away."

"How?"

"I am running Rat's store and can order goods from Earth. They come in shipping containers that resemble dumpsters. Imported goods come through a commercial border crossing. They are scanned for intruders. Occasionally, we need to ship some goods back to the supplier. They go through the same commercial border crossing. Commercial security is strong on the way in; it's negligible on the way out. I've been saving up some purchases that have to be returned. I can arrange for you and your coffin to be placed at the bottom of that dumpster. We'll throw a lot of loose goods on top. There's never any physical inspection. You'll be fine."

"How will you transport the coffin from the apartment to the store? "

"Do you know what I am?"

"You're a soul."

"You and your coffin will be carried by four husky souls wearing uniforms that show them to be workers in Rat's store. Large sized souls are used for this kind of labour all the time. You'll be transported during the duel and I'm expecting most everybody will be watching the duel on TV."

"The coffin may be noticed. How about putting me into a shipping box of some kind? I can squeeze in."

"That's a better plan. Are you ready to do this tomorrow?"

"Do you understand that when Rat returns and finds me missing, you will be one of the prime suspects. He won't rest until he finds out how I disappeared."

"Rat will be busy dealing with other things."

"If Rat loses the duel, his store will be finished. Hell will find out about you. You'll end up in a torture pit."

"I have some friends. They're going to disguise me. I'll be able to hide."

"How about this instead. You help me escape to Earth and in return, I'll help you escape to Earth."

"That can't be done. I can't go in the shipping container. No soul can ever get through the radiation bombardments at the border."

"I know a way for you to escape."

"This is kind of awkward, but I have to ask. How can I believe that you can do that? You're a computer hacker locked inside a closed cell. You don't know anything about Hell."

"Anybody who hires a hacker to work inside a computer network and doesn't realize that the hacker will go exploring through locked computer files is delusional. Plus I know things about you and Rat. For example, I know what Rat's next letter on your demonic name will be."

"I know what it will be too. What the letter?"

"It will be a Y."

"As in?"

"As in DBBLYN. Rat thinks that he'll be torturing you with that demonic name."

"Can you tell me why that would be a torture for me?"

"Because it stands for Debbie-Lyn which is your daughter's name."

### # # # # # # # #

Several things happened later that evening.

Winnie sent Meghan a detailed list of tasks that she had to complete Saturday morning.

Arthur made up a care package for Rat. Paula used her Firewall Freddie body to take that package to the UPS office late that night with instructions to deliver it to Ratko Buboni, at the Empress Hotel in Victoria BC at noon Saturday.

Meghan had some plans of her own to follow. She entered Rat's bedroom, donned a pair of his cowboy boots, strolled into the living room, and upended Rat's recliner. She removed two small packages from the cavity housing the springs.

One of those packages contained a fragment of a glass beer bottle. She cleared some sand away from the rock floor, and used Rat's boots to smash that piece of glass into almost microscopic pieces. As Rat's personal health therapist, she had had a lot of practice doing that and enjoyed this smithereening immensely. Next, Meghan opened Rat's new jar of hoof analgesic balm, stirred in the powdered glass, and put everything in the living room back to order. She never thought of crowing _I am the Champion_ , but she could have.

The second package from the chair cavity contained make up that the soul at work who handled disguises for the stage show had given her. Meghan applied that make-up, donned Rat's shoplifting overcoat and brimmed hat, put a gift package into one of Rat's pockets, and headed out for a stroll in the darkness.

Meghan was back before midnight. When she turned on her computer to take a last look at her daughter, she noticed an email waiting for her from the consultant.

"I've had another idea," Winnie wrote. "Let's talk early Saturday morning."

And finally, at midnight, the betting on the duel was closed.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 50

It's early Saturday morning. Winnie told Arthur and Paula about her email conversations with Meghan. Both were enthusiastic about the idea of helping Meghan escape Hell. They also liked Winnie's last minute idea of helping out the souls who had been part of the stage show. Rat's store was not going to be there much longer and the farce of the stage shows would be discovered. Why shouldn't those souls have an afterlife of relative comfort?

"Do you want me to notify Lillian?" Paula asked.

"Lillian liked the idea of rescuing Meghan, so we already know what she'll think of it. We're not rescuing the souls, so why would she object? Plus, Lillian and Joe-Joe are starting an operation in Victoria in the next hour."

"Do you need any help?" Paula asked.

"It's mostly computer work which I can do best if I'm alone. Meghan is coming to the apartment soon to sign some forms and all of the store souls have to come here so that I can get their barcode data. They can't see you here, so it's best if both of you do something outside the apartment."

"I'll keep an eye on the duel," Arthur said.

"I'll hang around the area in case something comes up that you need me for. I'll take Rat's and Firewall's spare DNA scales from the freezer in case we need them. That reminds me, did you get our bet in on the duel?"

"Yes," Winnie replied. "I used an electronic transfer. I made the bet near the deadline so that it wouldn't change the odds that the Gambler's Sinnonymous Club is offering."

"Are devils still favouring Rat to win?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Winnie said. "Heavily."

"Good," the other two said simultaneously.

### # # # # # # # #

At 8:45 am, a van stopped in front of a certain cave on Septic Drive and backed up so that the rear exit of the van was close to the front door. A fire-hydrant shaped devil and a kangaroo-shaped devil emerged. Both wore protective suits of armour that they had purchased from the party store specializing in medieval costumes. One carried a spear in one hand and a net in the other. The other had a sword. When they tested the lock on the door, it swung open. They entered warily.

A few minutes later, both emerged and removed their armour. They carried two rock drilling power kits into the cave and shut the front door. Nobody would have noticed this unusual activity or the drilling noise that started coming out of that cave. All of Hell was parked in front of their TV screens. The dual was about to start.

### # # # # # # # #

At 9:00 am sharp, a runty cowboy and a busty blonde entered Victoria's Hillside Mall and stopped in front of a display table with the sign _Reserved for Ratko Buboni._ The runt handed the busty blonde a carton containing five perfume atomizers. She pulled one of them out and placed it on the table. She put the almost full carton on the floor underneath the table where it could not be kicked by accident. Nor could it be seen easily. Four atomizers somehow became three.

The busty blonde put an easel together and set a large sign on it. "HOW GOOD IS YOUR SENSE OF SMELL? ARE YOU AT RISK OF LOSING IT?" A number of pamphlets about the dangers of a deteriorating sense of smell were scattered across the tabletop. She pinned the nametag Buboni had given her to the lapel of her fluorescent pink jacket. "Hi, my name is Zoe." Shoppers were already wandering the aisles. She started to greet them, clipboard in one hand, the perfume atomizer in the other. Ratko observed for a few minutes and then wandered off.

### # # # # # # # #

Joe-Joe: _Rat's back in his hotel room now. He doesn't have any direct surveillance of your table yet but he's accessing channel 666 right now. He'll be able to see you once SNN reporters find you at the mall._

Lillian: _Hell's media is starting to arrive. I have to appear busy. If anybody asks, I'll tell them we're not quite ready to start. Can you speed up the analysis of the perfume?_

Meanwhile, at 9:00 am sharp back in Hell, Firewall started programming. At 9:15, he typed _run champion_ , and sat back in his chair, trying to ignore the devil sitting beside him.

### # # # # # # # #

9:15 at Hillside Mall.

Joe-Joe: _Lillian, this atomizer contained a saline solution. Nothing more._

Lillian: _Isn't that interesting! That would be Meghan's doing._

Joe-Joe: _Meghan's the soul that Winnie wanted you to stuff into a mortal body?_

Lillian: _Ah'huh. Winnie was upset that the soul was kidnapped directly to Hell. She wanted her to be returned to her mortal life._

Joe-Joe: _Why didn't you agree? We have plenty of empty mortal bodies to choose from._

Lillian: _I only told Winnie, via Paula, that I liked the idea._

Joe-Joe: _You made it into a test._

Lillian: _Ah'huh. That was one of the goals of this operation remember. Test if the three of them could work under stress._

Joe-Joe: _But Winnie is the only one involved right now in Meghan's rescue._

Lillian: _I needed to challenge Winnie more to see how she thinks._

Joe-Joe: _Winnie has that strong Wilizy urge to bring justice to victims. She'll certainly want to rescue the soul._

Lillian: _She's resourceful. Did you notice how she added time-travel to the tools they had at their disposal?_

Joe-Joe: _That surprised me._

Lillian: _Me too. Hang on. ... Rat wants me to take off my jacket. I guess I haven't been attracting enough attention. This will make me feel like a slut._

Joe-Joe: _Weren't you the one who chose the lowest cut, loosest fitting top that you could find this morning? Weren't you the one that created that body?_

Lillian: _I wasn't complaining. I was expressing contentment at feeling like a slut. It reminds me of when we were out in the field together._

Joe-Joe: _You'd distract them; I'd attack them._

Lillian: _Now we shuffle papers._

Lillian removed her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. Her low cut, loose top was fire engine red. Her tight skirt was ebony black. Her stiletto shoes? A mix of red and black. Rat had been close to drooling all over her the previous night. Lillian had encouraged his attention, even to placing her hands on his arms. She had vowed to touch him before he died. _I'll wait a bit before I sit down._

_Can I be first in line?_

_Why Suh, y'all flatter me._

_There's nothing flat about you, Lillian._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 51

"Good morning. This is Handsome-But-Stupid. It's 10 am on the Pacific Coast and here are the headlines from the Sociopathic News Network."

"Firewall relaxes as his program drops bombs into Victoria. Rat is nowhere to be seen but his torture is squirting forward."

"And now, we take you to our SNN reporter embedded at Firewall's base camp. Come in Be Ball."

...

"Be Ball, are you there?"

The screen dissolved and SNN viewers across Hell saw a green-beanpole devil intently watching the screen of Firewall's computer.

"There's a pass to the last line of the program. It's a shot. Firewall SCORES! All the way from DOWNTOWN! Back to the beginning of the program now. Getting the next name; checking; a pass to the last line of the program. It's a shot. Firewall SCORES! All the way from DOWNTOWN! Back to the beginning of the program now..."

Handsome-But-Stupid heard a harried instruction in his ear-piece. "Get him off the screen. Now!" Be Ball's trademark phrase _All the way from DOWNTOWN!_ ' had proven to be tedious in the first five minutes. All of Firewall's shots were from downtown. And they all scored. SNN was in danger of losing its share of the television audience. They had already lost Firewall who had fled from the reporter's irritating yelps to a TV in the tattoo parlor's storeroom.

"We take you now to Slap Shot who is embedded in Rat's campaign."

A large nose appeared on screen. Then, the cell phone camera panned until viewers could see shopping mall pedestrians flowing unimpeded past a red-topped obstacle.

A low whisper. "This is Slap Shot reporting. The woman we're watching is Rat's assistant. Her name is Zoe and she's trying to give humans a smelling test. We don't know exactly what is in the atomizer that she's carrying, but we suspect it's not perfume. For security reasons, we can't tell you exactly where Zoe is." As Slap Shot grumbled this sobering comment, he pressed the zoom button until the sign "Hillside Mall, Victoria, BC" loomed on the screen. "Wait, we have some action." The camera zoomed back. "Zoe is circling her table, she's weaving through pedestrians. Oooh, look at that perfume handling! She sidestepped a body check, is crossing the blue line now, splitting two big mortals, and here comes the windup. She squirts! SHE SCORES!"

Sportscasters don't do well broadcasting out of their medium. "Handsome, get Slap Shop off the screen! Get him off!"

"And now, we take you to our panel of experts. Joining us live from Hell's Centre for Poison Distribution is Cyanide de Bergerac, and from Hell's Computer Division, we have the top geek, Ziggy Hurtz. Joining them is SNN's own Back Stabber, a veteran of Hell's dueling pasts. First to Cyanide. Cyanide, What can you tell us about Rat's campaign?"

"Well Handsome, by my calculations, Zoe has squirted twenty three shoppers so far. She has plenty of potential victims, but they're not too interested in what she's offering. Rat's absence confuses me. He should be here directing operations, but he's nowhere to be seen. Only eight hours remain in the duel and he's lagging far behind Firewall."

"Do you agree with that assessment, Ziggy Hurtz? Is Firewall ahead?"

"On attacks initiated, most assuredly. His computer program is sending a message out every three seconds. We don't know what kind of mortal he's targeting or how many mortals are in his database, but his program is in rapid-fire mode and he's crushing Rat."

"We have two burning questions to answer about Firewall's strategy. Let's check back with Be Ball and see if he has any insight. Be Ball, are you there?"

"All the way from DOWNTOWN! Back to ... What's that Handsome?"

"Without breaking security Be Ball, can you tell us what kind of mortal Firewall is targeting and how many mortals are in his database?"

"Well, as you know, embedded reporters can't reveal any information that may help the opponent, so no, I can't comment."

"Thank you then, Be..."

"I wonder if I could say hello to two of my friends though? To let them know I'm safe in this war zone?"

"Certainly Be Ball."

"My first hello is to Sinbad number 500, he's a young devil who hates females who attend universities. That's Sinbad number 500." _[Sinbad' was a popular name choice and Hell had to number their Sinbads.]_

My second hello is to Sin-ister number 500. He's one of our senior citizens. That's Sin-ister number 500."

"And now, let's welcome our dueling expert Back Stabber."

While the old geezer was droning on about Hell's past and the glorious duels that had been fought, the scene of the mall in the corner of the screen showed Mahogany removing a cell phone from her pocket and placing it to her ear. She listened for about ten seconds, replaced the phone in her pocket, walked back to her table, pulled out the chair, sat down at the table, and adjusted her posture for maximum effect.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 52

Good morning. It's 11 am on the Pacific West Coast. I'm Handsome-But-Stupid and here is the SNN headline.

"Firewall unleashes a massive bombardment on Victoria while Rat busts out of containment."

Two video clips were running in the corners of the TV screen. In the upper left were scenes of Firewall's cubicle with his computer running on automatic. In the upper right corner, pedestrians were strolling down a mall. The image of Handsome-But-Stupid filled the rest of the screen.

"We have exciting new developments in Victoria in the last hour to announce. For breaking news, SNN takes you to Fact Fudger on the campus of the University of Victoria. Come in Fact Fudger."

"I am standing in front of the Emily Carr Hall on the campus of the University of Victoria. This is one of many residences where female students are domiciled. Our breaking news team has learned that Firewall's computer program is targeting males who could become violent against female university students and so media reporters like myself have positioned our cameras in this prime location." Fact Fudger's camera panned to reveal other TV reporters dressed in gabardine trench coats, speaking into cell phones, and turning slow circles in the bright sunlight. Even the anchor from Creaking Ballet Cretins was out trying to improve its ratings. With an average of two viewers a day, the ballet specialty channel hadn't gone over in Hell as well as they had wanted. Fact Fudger continued his commentary.

"To date, no hostilities against any females in Victoria have been reported, but the day is early yet. I'll be here to bring the first assault to you live. But now, over to my colleague in Oak Bay."

"This is Makim Cry reporting live from the community of Oak Bay. Oak Bay has the highest density of senior citizens in all of Victoria. Your Action News Team has discovered that Firewall's software program is targeting senior citizens and we have sent reporters to the field to show you the latest development." The camera panned to reveal reporters in gabardine trench coats, speaking into cell phones, and turning slow circles in the bright sunlight. One reporter had a red tutu with black tassels peeking out through a gap in her overcoat.

"We have cameras positioned around all the senior citizen homes, wheel chair rental businesses, and Handy-Dart bus depots. We are ready to move at a moment's notice when any attack is reported. Returning you now to Hell, I am Makim Cry."

Handsome-But-Stupid turned to the devil sitting next to him at the anchor desk. "I am speaking to Ziggy Hurtz - our computer expert. Ziggy, so far, Firewall's program has been less than shocking or awesome. Why?"

"It's impossible to say at this time. Remember that Firewall is using the most advanced technology available. His thought suggestions are being delivered with laser-like precision - the first time that any such accuracy has been possible in an Earthly battle situation. We expect that major damage is being done within the psyches of the one thousand mortals who hate senior citizens or female students. This is a huge number of targets, even for a computer distributed targeting system. He's dropping an average of twenty thought suggestions every minute, but he only has six hours left. The question is: Can he drop enough thought bombs on each target to break through even the weakest mind bunkers?"

Handsome turned back to the camera. "And now, exciting news for Rat fans. After a slow start, Rat's forces have bust out of containment. I take you to Papa Razzi at the Hillside Mall."

"Thank you, Handsome. This long line-up you see behind me began to form at about 10:05 this morning. You'll notice that most of them are male mortals; in addition, many of my media colleagues are risking their personal safety to record what is happening for their viewers."

About one hundred males were in the line-up, fully a third of them were men in trench coats and carrying a cell phone in front of them.

"I'm second in line now." The camera showed Zoe sitting behind a table. She had a brief conversation with the mortal sitting at the table in front of her, leaned over, squeezed the rubber bubble on her atomizer, straightened up, and smiled at the next man in line.

The image of Mahogany bounced on the screen while the camera holder advanced to the front of the line. Then it steadied on Zoe's beautiful face and gradually slid down to her low cut blouse. She leaned over. "Would you like to test my perfume."

"Yeah, whatever you say."

It was no wonder Rat's forces had 'bust out' of containment. In fact, there was no containment at all. The camera zoomed in to get a closer look down the front of Mahogany's blouse. Nothing blocking the view of her two...

"Hold out your wrist."

Mahogany's squirting action caused a little jiggle. Immediately, there was a voice in the earpiece. "Papa, get her to do that again."

"Can I have one on this wrist too?"

The jiggle repeated itself. A few minutes later, Handsome But Stupid's face disappeared from the screen to be replaced by a different image of a boob.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 53

"Good morning. It's 11:45 am and we have breaking news... breaking news... breaking news..."

"This is Sensationalizing Sam with exciting news for Rat followers." The camera showed the butt of a blimp man waddling down a sidewalk. Sensationalizing Sam's low whisper would soon grow in volume and rise in octaves when he began to emphasize the importance of his report. This was a common technique among all media but one which Sensationalizing had perfected while serving as a toothpaste flogger on the hygiene promotion spots that were used as filler in the early hours before anybody in Hell really started watching TV.

"Zoe perfumed this man and I have been following him ever since he tottered out of Hillside Mall. We are about fifteen minutes north of the mall. For security reasons, I can't tell you exactly where we are but let me draw you a crude map."

A piece of paper appeared in front of the mobile's camera. Then, a large box that was labeled 'HM' appeared. "We're about here." Sensationalizing placed a cross hair on the paper and then added. "Let's call this street - Oh, I'll just invent a name - 'Shelbourne.' The cross street is - well, I can't say this name out loud but it's a mortal holiday that we can't mention in impolite society. It's the one with decorated trees," he added for those who might be a little slow on the uptake.

Sensationalizing Sam's delivery went into high gear. "Just one block ago, this man stuck a dagger into the heart of Firewall's hopes and dreams. Has there ever been an event with such significance for the future of Hell's existence? Has there ever been a single human mortal with so much riding on what must be honestly described as flabby and weak shoulders? Does this puny mortal realize the significance of what his next hours of existence will mean for Rat and the thousands of traditionalists that are cheering and clamoring for the success that will, for Firewall's followers, mean a descent back into the depths of Hell's dark ages? Will Firewall ever recover from what must be a truly devastating blow?"

Sensationalizing Sam's voice stopped and the camera bounced up and down as he ran to catch up to his prey. The sound of pounding footsteps caused the human to turn around. The camera zoomed and Sensationalizing Sam panted his blockbuster news. "One block ago, this befuddled, and very ugly man ... coughed."

The mortal turned and resumed his trek - unaware that Hell's future was phlegmed within his chest. He was busy remembering another chest.

Twenty-four devils hopped onto twelve scooters and headed for the intersection of Shelbourne and Christmas streets, listening enroute to the commentary from Sensationalizing Sam who had once again muted his excitement so that he could build it up again.

"The mortal is walking in an easterly direction at a pace of one block every two minutes. We are encountering no serious resistance although I am getting a strong whiff of BO. I have to follow close behind to hear any further coughs." Sensationalizing was angling for danger pay. It might work.

"Sensationalizing, this is Handsome-But-Stupid at control center. Could you describe the cough."

Sensationalizing Sam listened intently to the voice in his earpiece, tapped it a few times to emphasize the difficulty of the field conditions under which he was working, and coughed with great emphasis. "It sounded sort of like that."

"Would you characterize it as a harsh, dry cough?" Like this?" Handsome did a three second hack.

"No, more of a phlegmy cough." Sensationalizing Sam sprayed a disgusting noise into the microphone. "Perhaps the onset of pneumonia. Even the beginning of a death rattle. Nobody knows what Rat has in his perfume, but it obviously has great potency. Has there ever been..."

The anchor interrupted another impending pompous discourse. "Have you had any success finding Rat?"

"Well Handsome, our staff on Earth is stretched to the limit. We have several hundred reporters staking out all the probable locations for Firewall's victims. Plus, now that Zoe has both barrels working, so to speak, we're having difficulty keeping up with her. Every mortal that she squirts is followed out of the mall by at least one reporter. Rat is in his bunker somewhere and we're searching for him; he can't hide for long."

The mortal who had all of Hell in thrall turned as twelve motor scooters roared at him from four directions, each squealing to a stop at his feet. Twelve shoulder cameramen dismounted from the rear of their scooters and were set up by the time their reporter partners had microphones in the man's face. Sensationalizing Sam struggled to remain the focus of the broadcast. "Has there ever been a disappearance that is so inexplicable..." but nobody was interested in old news. The network's control room cut him off in the middle of his second "Has there ever been..." to tap into a live microphone that was a half-tongue distance from the mortal's nose.

"Could you tell us, Sir, how you feel?"

"Huh?"

"How do you feel, Sir? Perhaps a little raspy?"

"Congestion in the throat?" offered another.

"Dry and tickly?"

"Do you have a fever?"

"I'm just trying to go home."

"Would you mind if we came along?" The media didn't wait for his agreement. No mortal could ever turn down an offer to have a picture of his nostril hair transmitted on live TV. The circle began moving forward slowly, one sliding footstep at a time. All twelve reporters were coughing in their target's face, the camera devils were walking backwards through flower gardens, over shrubs, and into light posts while recording the event for posterity.

Back in Hell, Firewall charged into his cubicle and adjusted a line in the program to reduce his number of targets and thereby raise the bombardment's concentration levels. In addition, young men near Hillside Mall began to receive triple strength suggestions to disable perfume distributors. His redeployment completed, Firewall retreated to the TV in the tattoo parlor storeroom. Thank goodness for the media. How else could the duel's combatants keep up with what their enemy was doing otherwise?

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 54

Ratcliffe Buboni opened the hotel room door in response to a sharp rat-a-tat that rat-a-tat-tattted at noon. "Parcel for you, Mr. Buboni. Please sign here."

It didn't take long for Rat to find out what was inside: a pile of loose white feathers, two severed bird's feet, three golden 1000-T coins, and a note with large red letters scrawled across it. "Kiss my arse, Rat."

During the PUS ride back to Hell, Rat tried to convince himself that everything was all right. Based on the exit polls, media analysts were predicting a decisive victory for him. He now had three coughs, four sneezes, a stumble, two pauses for rest, four brow wipes, and five limps. Plus, there were still lots of victims to be poisoned, and he couldn't really expect the full effect of the poison to kick in before 9 pm. Clearly, Firewall was beaten. Not a single senior citizen or young woman had been assaulted. In the face of defeat, Firewall was using this despicable act to pull him away from the duel. But, with Zoe distributing the poison, Rat could afford to return to Hell for a few hours. He'd take a quick look at his cave, solely for reassurance, and then he'd return to Victoria.

The rental scooter from the PUS station got Rat home quickly. As it putt-puttered up the hill to his cave, his heart putt-puttered down to the cleft of his hooves. The front door was wide open.

### # # # # # # # #

Rat was one of the few devils in Hell who could enter the Black House without an appointment. Rat described the contents of the UPS package he received and what found when he returned to his cave. He listed his charges against Firewall. Illegal entry into his cave; murdering his bird; drilling a gaping hole into his vault; stealing the entire contents of the vault; compelling Rat to leave Victoria and leave his poison operations against mortals in the hands of an untrained mortal assistant.

Satan listened in silence, dismissed Rat and called in Lord Percy. "Rat's whining about devils stealing all of his wealth."

"I warned him about that when he resigned. He said that the devils could have his tormentts if they could break into his vault. Stealing his wealth is not a crime. I don't see a problem here."

"In luring Rat back to Victoria during the duel, Firewall may have compromised the results of the duel. With the devilzenry divided so much by the possibility of moving towards technology assisted tormenting, we must be sure that devils don't believe that Firewall influenced the results, if indeed Firewall were involved. Look into this. I'll end the duel at noon."

### # # # # # # # #

With the duel terminated, the exciting events inside and outside of Hell subsided. Lillian and Joe-Joe returned to Heaven where they were able greet Arthur, Paula and Winnie when they arrived after an unexciting trip in a shipping box. Arthur was immediately hospitalized and placed in a bed with numerous wires linking his brain to machines mounted against the wall. Winnie received the same treatment. Both were warned about unfastening any of the cables. Paula floated back and forth between rooms keeping them company. The only firm news that she could tell them was that Joe-Joe would arrange for a debriefing soon.

"Did Meghan make it out of Hell?" Winnie asked.

"I didn't believe it would be a good idea to ask about that right now. Lillian wasn't looking any too pleased."

"She opened the door for me to find a way to rescue her."

"Leave it for now," Paula counselled.

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie's plan to rescue Meghan was somewhat complicated.

First, she had to forge a document in which Rat gave Meghan her full apprentice demon name, DBBYLN. Meghan added Rat's signature and Winnie filed the necessary electronic reports.

With a full devil name in place, an apprentice devil could be graduated out of the apprenticeship program. Again, electronic forms were needed and Meghan again used her skills at forging Rat's signature.

Normally, an apprentice demon would become a _Shoulder Demon, Level 1_ which meant that she'd be covered with beige fuzz. Apparently Rat wanted more than that for his apprentice because the electronics that were filed recorded that Rat stipulated that she be made an Assistant Demon and he entered the words _Blue Diamond dispensation_ in the Special Notes section of the form. Winnie didn't know exactly what that entailed, but she figured that citing the Blue Diamond was akin to telling a hornocrat that: _I know I'm fudging the rules, but do this or else I'll boil you alive and turn you into rancid sauerkraut._ On this she was dead on, with the possible exception of the rancid sauerkraut curse.

Now that Meghan was an Assistant Demon named DBBYLN, she needed a demon's body. That required Meghan to report to the Personnel Cavern. When asked what devil body she wanted, she chose randomly from the lists of body parts she could select. She was planning on using this body only once to get through border security and into the PUS terminal. DBBLYN ended up with elephant feet, a crocodile body, and the head of a pus-dripping rat face. That particular body part was not on the list but Personnel's staff were accommodating to her apparent strong desire to have such a face.

From there, it was time to select the human body that DBBLYN would inhabit while working undercover in mortal society. For this, Meghan did not need any time to think about her selection.

Lastly, DBBLYN need to be assigned to a devilian contingent on Earth. Meghan chose a large cosmopolitan center in Europe for her future work place and Rat's signature ensured that placement.

### # # # # # # # #

Before leaving, Winnie destroyed all of the electronic records around DBBLYN's promotion and assignment. The database still would show the same personnel information as what Winnie had found previously. Importantly, she was still assigned to Rat. Any queries about where she was would have to be answered by The Rat.

DBBLYN made it through border security before noon, she entered the PUS terminal, found the route she wanted, and sat in full relaxation for the first time that day.

By 1 pm, Meghan had arrived at the location on Earth that she had decided to visit for a well-deserved holiday. She converted to her mortal body as she left the PUS station, found the local police station, walked in, and waited for the sargeant on duty to ask her what she wanted.

"My name is Meghan O'Hara," she said. "I was kidnapped from my home some months ago but I've escaped. I just wanted to let you know that I'm in Halifax now. I'll be at my sister's house if you need me."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 55

Lord Percy started his investigation by examining the footage from the security camera opposite Rat's cave. He saw two devils preparing to be attacked by Rat's bird, and then entering the cave when the bird didn't appear. He made a note that it could hardly be called robbery when the cave owner had left the door unlocked. It didn't take him long to identify Ante Up and Focus Test. On Beezleday morning, he brought the two of them in for questioning in the interrogation chamber deep underneath the Black House.

A rickety table with three wooden chairs squatted under the single bulb. Instruments of torture (horn grinders, tail twisters, large freezer packs, video tapes of the Partridge Family TV series...) were scattered around the walls.

Lord Percy scanned the two file folders while the guards planted Firewall and Ante into their seats. When the door clanged shut, he looked up. "Everything you say here is being recorded. Be careful that I don't catch you in a lie. Pretend you're little wussy angels and you may survive. The two of you were part of a plot to steal Rat's gold. Yes or no?"

A duet of 'Yeses' followed. They had no reason to deny it. Attempting to steal from another devil was not a crime in Hell. Moreover, successful theft was usually recognized positively within Hell's culture. The victim became a target of scorn for leaving himself vulnerable.

"Where's Rat's gold?"

Ante Up nominated himself to answer. Focus Test couldn't take his eyes of that Partridge Family video and squirming. "We don't have it. The vault was empty when we broke in."

"How'd you break into Rat's cave?"

"The door was open."

"How'd you break into his vault?"

"Rock drilling equipment."

"Whose idea was it to send that parcel to Rat on Earth and drive him back to Hell?"

"What parcel?"

"You weren't part of that plan, Focus Test?"

"No. We never talked about sending a package. We wanted Rat up on Earth for a long time to make sure we had time to break into the vault."

"The two of you weren't the only devils involved in this. There was another. He sent the package to Rat; he had some of the best ideas; he has the gold."

They nodded.

"Who is it?"

"Firewall," Focus Test squealed.

"The duel was a sham, wasn't it. To get Rat out of Hell."

"It was all Firewall's idea," Ante Up backstabbed. "He did everything. We were hired just to rob the vault."

"Really," Focus Test weaseled in the last word.

### # # # # # # # #

Satan wanted to wait for the forty-eight hour period after the duel to expire before deciding what to do about the duelists. By Tuesday at noon, Lord Percy had accumulated enough incriminating evidence on both of the main targets and was waiting for Satan to examine the duel's results. "Start with the easy one," Satan told Lord Percy Tuesday afternoon.

Firewall Freddie entered the interrogation chamber confident that there had been a huge mistake.

"Where's Rat's gold?"

The question shot out at Firewall as he was moving his tail out of the way before sitting down in the chair in the interrogation room opposite the big screen. Lord Percy was standing on the opposite side. "Where's the gold?" Lord Percy repeated, rapping the table to get Firewall's attention.

"I don't know. Ante Up and Focus Test were supposed to take care of that. I was dueling with Rat while they were robbing the vault."

"I have written confessions from Ante Up and Focus Test revealing your total involvement in everything. I know everything: the break in at Rat's cave and the duel to lure Rat to Earth. You have one chance to confess to everything that you've done. One chance."

"I didn't do anything illegal. Stealing isn't a crime. Plus, the duel helped Hell prove how effective my software would be. I don't understand why I've been imprisoned."

Lord Percy shook his head sadly. So, that's the way it was going to be. "Very well. Why did you send a parcel to Rat during the duel that caused him to return to Hell? Did you do that so that you'd win the duel?"

"What package?"

"The one you personally delivered to the UPS station late Friday night with instructions to have it delivered to Rat's hotel room in Victoria at 12 noon."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was home Friday night."

"Not according to the footage from our security cameras. Look at the screen. Isn't that you walking into the UPS station at midnight?"

"That wasn't me. I was home Friday night."

"Can Focus Test confirm that?"

"Sure."

"He said that he couldn't. He was sleeping in his own room. He said that you planned and executed everything."

"I was home. I don't know anything about a parcel."

"UPS told me that you paid for the delivery with a DNA scale. I've checked. That scale was yours. Look at the image on the screen. You can see that the cost of the shipment has already been charged to your account."

"That has to be an imposter. But, what crime did that imposter commit?"

"There was no imposter. Security cameras tracked you leaving your cave, arriving at the UPS terminal and returning to your cave. You sent Rat a package containing the remains of his bird, some gold, and a message from you to Rat that he could kiss your arse. You did that to lure Rat away from Victoria so that you could win the duel."

"I was winning the duel. I was crushing him. I had no reason to lure him home and I didn't send him a carton."

"Why are you lying? Is it because you betrayed your partners and took all of Rat's gold for yourself? Your partners said that you had all the gold tormentts."

"They're lying. I don't have any gold. If I did all of what you claim I did, then I'd have gold. Well, I don't have any gold, so therefore, I didn't do it." Logic to the rescue. A simple if...not programming instruction would prove his innocence.

"By that argument then, if you did have gold, then you would be guilty. Right?"

"Well, logically..."

"How did you and your partners plan on concealing Rat's gold after you stole it from Rat's vault?"

"We each created a bank account in a fake name. These accounts wouldn't be found if our real names were entered as a search term. It was a minor weakness I found in the bank's security system."

"Did you open your secret bank account last Friday?"

"Yes."

"Was your fake name _Champion_?"

"Yes."

"Satan closed that loophole some time ago. Another security expert found what you hadn't reported. Your account balance for your secret account is on the screen."

_So much?_ Firewall's mind couldn't grapple with the size of account balance in front of him.

Lord Percy helped him by providing some logic. "Since you have agreed that you would indeed be guilty if you had any gold, you'll see by the size of the balance in your account that you must be very guilty."

"But I didn't steal Rat's gold!" And then it hit him. Firewall had forgotten - he had been so engrossed in the duel. Rat's store. Firewall's program had been churning tormentts from Rat's store directly into his secret bank account. But that much? Rat must do a better business than they had thought.

"I forgot. I didn't steal gold from Rat's vault. But I did steal tormentts from his store."

Hair splitting had a lawyerish smell and did not go over well in Hell.

"Do you recognize this computer directory."

"Yes."

"And this little bit of code?"

"All hackers leave a personal marker after penetrating a computer's security. It's mine. I hid it in Rat's store computer."

"So, you admit to hacking into the computer with this directory?"

"Yes. I admit it. But hacking into a computer isn't a crime."

"And, you admit that you stole thousands and thousands of tormentts from this computer?"

"But, stealing isn't a crime even if it is a huge sum."

"It is when you break into the Bank of Hell's computer and steal Satan's tormentts!"

Firewall looked down at the account balance, shaken to silence. This was a monstrous crime. "But I didn't..."

"Then how did Satan's gold get into your account?"

"Tell me how you did it, and Satan might go easier on you."

Firewall continued to profess that he had stolen the gold from the computer in Rat's store. He would never be stupid enough to hack the computers at the Bank of Hell.

### # # # # # # # #

"Let's move on to the duel," Lord Percy tried a different line of attack. "The duel was a hoax, a total hoax. It was an affront to all of Hell, just so that you could steal Rat's gold. To get back at him."

"No, it was a test of the software. Stealing Rat's gold was an added bonus."

"So, you do have it."

"No, I misspoke."

"How do you explain the results of the duel then?"

"What were the results? I've been in isolation since Saturday night."

"You targeted one thousand mortals. How many do you believe responded to your thought suggestions?"

"Four hundred or five hundred at least. I found the most susceptible and concentrated on them at the end."

"Zero. That's how many humans reacted to your thought suggestions. Zero."

"But, that's impossible. Their violence tints were so bright."

"Zero. And you know why?" Lord Percy didn't wait for a response. "Your software doesn't work. The duel was a complete sham. Satan is highly displeased," he added for effect. It was the truth.

"But I tested it. The auras can be detected."

"Something can be detected. Take a look at this 'graf." He put a color printout of five mortals on the screen. Each graf had a series of colors streaming from them.

Firewall listed their sin according to the strongest color. "Gambler, wife beater, politician, manipulator, and drug addict."

"Now, look at these five mortals. What do their colors represent?"

"Liar, cheater, bully, embezzler, and lawyering

"They're the same mortals. The pictures were taken twenty-four hours apart."

"They can't be the same mortals."

"Take a closer look."

Firewall did. They were the same humans. "I don't understand... "

"The colors your software detects change daily. I tested it personally. They're never the same for the same mortal. Your software was a swindle so that you could earn patent tormentts."

"No. The colors are legitimate. The software can read auras. It can be used on immortals too. I was testing..."

"I wondered about that too. Somebody sent me some research about your software. Look at the aura coming off this devil. What would you say about him?"

"The strongest color is yellow. He's a coward, of course."

The bank inspector removed his hand masking the devil. It was a picture of Satan.

Satan took that as his cue and he materialized into the interrogation chamber, his body coming through the display panel for effect. Fifteen feet of devil is a lot of effect. Lord Percy moved around the table to stand behind Firewall. Satan began the final phase of the interrogation.

Satan had heard enough. First the sham duel, now this. Firewall was another d'eek who thought his technical superiority would give him immunity. Firewall just didn't get it.

"I understand you enjoyed little girls when you were a mortal?"

Firewall nodded.

"Tell me what you like to do to them. Hold nothing back."

Firewall bragged about everything he had done. Perhaps he was hoping that proving how evil he was on Earth might be taken into account.

It was.

Satan looked at Percy who nodded. He had taken it all down.

"I made a mistake promoting you to devil so quickly. You were never punished for all the sins you committed on Earth. Sins that you obviously feel proud of. I'll correct that mistake now." Satan snapped his fingers.

Firewall looked down in horror at his mortal body. About three feet high, perhaps nine-years old, dressed in a bright little pink pinafore, pretty ribbons in her blonde braids. Many devils would want to entertain Hell's first little condemned girl soul, and thanks to Firewall's bragging, they'd know exactly what she liked to do.

### # # # # # # # #

"Is Rat's case ready?" Satan asked.

"It will be by tomorrow. Do you have a solution to our epidemic?"

"Yes. Rat's mutant bird gave me the idea."

"Rat was finally good for something."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 56

Wednesday morning, four days after they had arrived in heaven, Winnie was sitting on the edge of Arthur's bed in the research hospital. They were playing a three-dimensional game of Snakes and Ladders in their minds. Yes, dear reader. They were that bored. Arthur had been told to relax and not think about anything. This game helped him do that.

Winnie had been released from her bed on Monday. Yes, they had found some leakage of her pre-birth memories. The scientists did not consider the size of the leak to be concerning. Winnie had been alternating between being at Arthur's bedside during the day and sleeping in the Wilizy ship at night. They shut the game down when Lillian and Joe-Joe entered the room. Both looked tired and stressed. Lillian looked even more stressed when she saw Winnie take Arthur's hand into hers.

My female readers will know about _the look_. Lillian gave Winnie the look that asks _What are you doing?_

Winnie responded with the teenage girl look. _Back off. You can't tell me what to do._ Then she added her second hand to the illicit handholding. _Chew on this._

Lillian looked away first.

"We can't find anything wrong with Arthur's body," Joe-Joe started. "The scientists have found a leak from a distant memory, but we don't know what caused that."

"Stress of the operation?" Winnie asked.

"Environmental conditions in Hell?" Paula asked invisibly from a chair in the corner of Arthur's room. _[Paula had been smuggled into Heaven; technically, she wasn't allowed to be here. At least, not yet.]_

"Possibly either or both," Joe-Joe said. "But, we can't duplicate the conditions experimentally."

"We have no experience with the advanced angelic body that you've been using," Lillian communicated for the first time. At least verbally. "We have nothing to go on."

"What happens now?" Arthur asked.

"Does knowing that this came from your past and not your future help you? Can you deal with it?" Joe-Joe's question.

"Yes, he can. We've already talked about how we can do that," Winnie responded for Arthur.

"You've earned a leave," Joe-Joe said. "A little R&R can't hurt. _[R &R is military speak. It means Rest and Recreation.]_ We'll debrief tomorrow."

"I'm sure you're looking forward to relaxing in your aerie. Arthur. Winnie you have the ship of course."

"We'll be in the ship together," Winnie responded and reinforced the statement with another _look_.

"Well, we might as well put all three of you together on the ship. It'll be easier to debrief that way. Shall we say 10 am?"

"Joe-Joe is giving me a tour today," Paula politely turned down Lillian's offer to be a chaperone. "After that, I'm going to wander around. I'll be at the ship by 10."

...

"Sounds like a plan," Lillian conceded.

### # # # # # # # #

Satan allowed Rat to pursue his normal afterlife while Lord Percy checked surveillance tapes, rooted through the store, examined a covert copy of Rat's hard drive, and tracked his business dealings. He also wandered around Rat's Target, which had remained closed. Satan told Rat that he wanted to give him the results of the duel personally. So Rat came to the Wednesday morning meeting in Satan's office eagerly - expecting to be congratulated for winning the duel.

"How's business, Rat?" Lord Percy opened with a pleasantry.

"Fine. Have you found DBBLN? She hasn't been back to the cave and she's not at the store."

"No. We're as anxious to find her as you are. She wasn't important in the store operations, was she Rat? During your grand opening, you did tell Satan that you were making all the critical business decisions. That's right, isn't it Rat?"

"Of course. She did the low level office routines, but I have to do her job as well as mine now, so I need her back before we can re-open."

"So, get another soul. We have enough of them."

"Did you find my gold yet?"

"We're pretty sure we know what happened to it. We'll need to ask you some questions though. Hope you don't mind."

"I have to get back to the store soon. DBBLN messed up on some orders and our shelves are mostly bare. I have to fix her mistake. I'll need more souls too. Were the store's souls repossessed because I wasn't here to torture them?"

"You shouldn't be worrying about souls, Rat." Satan advised.

Lord Percy's interrogation started slowly. "Do you pay all the store's bills personally, Rat?"

"Sure. I run a tight ship."

"Track your bank accounts pretty closely too?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

"Supervise your apprentice demon and souls closely too, right Rat?"

"Of course. What's this all about?"

"About those souls, Rat. I have a few trifling questions."

"Why did you give the souls in your stage show only a slight buzz from their dog collars instead of a real electrocution. Why did you give the souls in your stage show extra food, beer, and energy boosts from the health restoration units? Are these the rewards for their fake electrocutions? Why do your weekly apprentice records claim that you were torturing your assistant with a 'virulent poison' that turned out to be so tame that no mortal in Victoria became sick?"

"Nobody became sick from the vomiter? But, that's impossible. I tested it successfully on the consultant. And I gave a full dose to DBBLN. I watched her vomiting and writhing on the floor from it."

"I looked at some of the records of her so-called tortures. They're fakes. They contain a few clips of a torture scene all strung together so that it would be appear that she had been tortured for hours. We even found the video-editing software that was used to create the fakes. The software is simple enough even for you."

"DBBLN must have done it."

"But how would she buy the software? It costs 900-T and souls don't have access to tormentts. You did say that you tracked your money closely and paid all bills, didn't you?"

"It was her. I don't know how, but it was her!"

"And did she mix the chemicals for her own torture? And did she order all the supplies for the store by herself? And did she buy the beer and the health restoration units to pamper the staff? Did she do all of this without you knowing about it?"

"Yes, she did. Well, not the health restoration unit, but she didn't tell me the souls weren't being killed and..."

"But you told us that you handled all of those duties yourself. You didn't lie in front of Satan did you?"

"I may have misunderstood the question."

"So this picture we have of you being soft on souls, you're saying it was all created by a soul that has conveniently gone missing. A soul that you want us to believe outsmarted you and deceived you. You are the devil that brags 'Nobody can sneak up on the Rat!' aren't you?"

"She did. She did!"

"Perhaps you'd be so kind to explain your strange behaviors in the last month?" Lord Percy started to read from a second list.

"Why do we have so many pictures of you giving the one finger salute to our cameras? Why do we have camera shots of you skulking around in the dark outside your store with your hands extended in prayer? Why did your store celebrate Easter? Why do you have an angel insulting devils in your store? Are those your real feelings? Why are you encouraging devils to form teams and cooperate together in your stage show? Isn't cooperating a subversion of true devil behavior?"

"DBBLN ..." Rat sputtered.

"Ah, once again the soul who has conveniently disappeared so that we can't ask her any questions. So, you're saying that you haven't gone over to the light side?"

"I stood up for Hell's institutions. I took on a duel to defend our dishonor!"

"A duel in which you didn't score a single casualty!"

"The rules were..."

"You fudged the rules. You didn't even poison the mortals yourself. Were you too soft to look them in the eyes? I thought you liked doing that."

"The danger of being on Earth. The angels are out to get me."

"Nonsense. You disgraced Hell with that fake poison and the sham of a duel."

"I accepted the duel because devils asked me to set the record straight. I did it for them and for all the other devils who believed in traditional tortures. Most of the messages on the boards were from Media Manipulation devils pretending to be normal devils. They were cheating!"

A snort of indignation from Satan made Rat realize what he had just said. He tried a frantic regrouping.

"Firewall. He was the one who proposed the duel. I agreed because I wanted to put him in his place."

"No. You wanted the duel for your own personal gain!"

"Gain? What did I stand to gain?"

The sound of cracking knuckles from behind the desk signaled a change in interrogators. Satan came to stand by one side of the visitor's chair; Lord Percy took a corresponding position on the other side.

"How many bank accounts do you have, Rat?"

"One. The store account."

"Do you have any other accounts? Perhaps in another name?"

"No, of course not."

"We recently had another devil who thought that we couldn't link anonymous bank accounts to the real owner. Are you sure you don't have any other bank accounts?"

"All my money is in my vault... was in my vault until Firewall stole it."

"Then, perhaps you could tell me who owns these bank accounts." Satan handed over a sheet of paper showing the account balances for four account owners: Natas Wercs, Skcus Natas, Natas Eid, and Ystap Ytterp.

"Those names don't make any sense."

"Did you think that we couldn't read backwards?"

A minute later. "Only a very stupid devil would open accounts in those names."

"Or an arrogant devil puffed up by his wealth. Did you see the size of these accounts. They contain a massive number of tormentts."

"Not my accounts."

"We know the exact days and times that you created those accounts. Did you think that creating four anonymous bank accounts would allow you to hide all your gold without being detected? That's why you created four accounts, isn't it."

"I didn't create those accounts."

"Of course you did. We have the surveillance evidence. The owner of these accounts looked like you, walked like you, drove your hog, and had your DNA scale. If it wasn't you, who was it?"

...

"Where did that account owner get the massive amounts of gold to put in these four accounts? Only you could have had all these tormentts and could have moved them out of your impregnable vault - a vault that is now empty because you emptied it."

"Why would I do that? What possible reason would I have to empty my vault?"

"Just two more questions, Rat," Lord Percy indicated that the interrogation was almost over.

"Why did the owner of those four massive accounts bet that Firewall Freddie would win the duel, Rat? Did you deliberately lose the duel so that you could win the bet and become monstrously richer?"

Rat had been holding his head in both claws and rocking back and forth, moaning, grunting in pain with each skewering accusation that he couldn't explain. Satan was hungry and Shish Ratabob was the only item on the menu.

"Angels! I went to Earth and now they're trying to destroy me. Undercover angels were in Hell! That's it. DBBLN is an angel - that's why you can't find her. She's back in..."

Lord Percy cut him off. "You've been striking at the heart of Hell's institutions. If you weakened Hell's immorality enough, and if you were wealthy enough, you could take over. That's it, isn't it Rat?" The bank inspector was shouting two inches from Rat's right ear.

Satan moved in for the kill - two inches away from Rat's left ear. A deadly whisper. "Why did you try to kill me, Rat? Was being the richest devil in Hell so important to you? Or, were you just after the power? Or, are you an agent of Heaven - turned to the light side?"

"I never tried to kill..."

"Did you keep some souvenirs from your days on the bubonic plague operation, Rat?"

"Mementos, nothing more."

"Human skulls, teeth, that sort of thing?"

Rat nodded.

"Rats?"

Confusion. Overwhelming confusion. Nobody could have known about the rats. Rat had brought them back from Earth before security cameras had been invented.

"I had a dozen. All were dead. I kept them in a safe under the padding in my hobby room. Only I knew the combination. There was no danger to any devil." Rat was frantic now.

"If only you knew the combination, that must have been you who brought them back to life under a health restoration unit set to high power - a process that invigorated them so much they began to breed at a rapid pace. As did their fleas. Fleas can slip under our scales, as you must have known. They can eat away at our flesh and we have no known cure to the bubonic plague here in Hell. You must have been the one who released them into the Black House. You were trying to kill me so that you could take over Hell."

"No, no, no, no..."

Satan turned the notebook on his desk around so that Rat could see the screen. The flickering images from a surveillance camera stifled his cries of anguish. Rat watched as a small figure in a long black overcoat and a floppy oversized hat gimped into view, rolling painfully from one cowboy boot to the other.

"Not me! Not me!"

One by one, the figure pulled twelve rats out of the overcoat's pockets and deposited them into a sewer grate in front of the Black House. Throughout the whole process, the figure kept his head down, face masked by the hat.

"Not me! Not me! Every devil has a long coat and masking hat."

The figure turned away from the camera and gimped a few steps, only to stop, raise his head slightly, and listen intently. Alarmed by what he heard, the figure tried to scurry away, in the process knocking his hat off. The camera recorded the blue-green scales of the devil's face full on as he turned back and fumbled to retrieve the hat. Wire framed glasses were fastened securely behind his ears. Above the ears - thick black skin, mottled in several places by brown after-liver spots. Black, slightly curved horn stubs.

Rat was speechless.

Satan snapped his fingers, and he and Lord Percy walked out of the empty office together.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 57

Thursday morning, 10 am, in the Wilizy ship. Joe-Joe, Lillian, Paula, Winnie and Arthur were sitting comfortably on the sofa and armchairs in the ship's living room. All were in mortal form. As we join them, Lillian is asking whether or not Hell was going to adopt a version of centrally administered subliminal thought messages. This was, after all, the purpose of their operation.

Paula responded.

When the opportunity arose to take advantage of Rat's and Firewall's hatred of each other, we took it. It gave us the opportunity to drive Rat to Earth were you wanted him. Arthur kept on fueling their rage, but the duel presented us with two possible outcomes and both of them were bad. We could control who was going to win, but which one?"

Arthur continued. "If Rat won, that would mean that Hell would not consider what they were calling Technology-Assisted-Torment, but that was our objective. If Firewall won, his use of aura targeting would give Hell a tremendous weapon. Mortal auras do exist, and Firewall was on the cusp of being able to use them to tightly target the weaknesses of their victims. We couldn't let him win."

Winnie took over. "We knew that the two of you could sabotage Rat's poison if we drove Rat up to Earth. It turned out that Meghan had already neutralized it, but it was the same result. Rat lost and returned to Hell in disgrace. That meant that all we had to do was remove Firewall from ever being able to work on aura identification. So, I hacked his software so that the colours that he identified were never consistent to one specific personality weakness. Every day, his software would spit out different results. To destroy all of his remaining credibility, Arthur sent the Media Manipulation director some disturbing doubts. She acted on them and discovered that Firewall's software showed Satan to be a coward. Again, it was obvious that his colour identifiers were unreliable both for mortals and immortals. We don't expect that Firewall survived his interrogation."

"But will Hell adopt mind messages?"

"We believe so," Paula replied. "First they know that Heaven is having great success. You should keep pushing them on that. Second, Winnie developed the software that Rat had wanted that would quantify the torture that Hell had administered. The basis for the calculation was still aura colours, but there was no attempt to identify each aura colour. Instead, Winnie's software will rely on AVERAGE aura colours and those can be quantified."

"As to the duel, Satan's staff will test both Firewall's and my quantification software. Both will show that Firewall's technology- assisted-torments do work, but only in general terms, not in terms of specific colours. Firewall's quantifying software will show abnormally high results that cannot be reasonably achieved after only three hours. That's why we acted to cut the duel short by sending that UPS package to Rat. My results will show a modest gain."

Arthur's turn. "Given that Firewall has demonstrated that he can't really predict auras, and that he was unduly interested in getting torment patents, they will go with Winnie's software, for at least one more trial. She has a back door into the software and she can make the results whatever she wants them to be."

Back now to Winnie. "In the next trial run, we can expect devils to send out messages like _Be Bad_ and Heaven will send out messages like _Be Good_. I can give Hell a modest win over Heaven every quarter. Since Hell has more resources, they can see that they will eventually win. And, if they decide to copy Heaven in removing shoulder staff from Earth, there'll have no demons who can say that neither approach was working."

"I was thinking of bringing guardian angels back to Heaven for training on the new bodies that the two of you were testing," Lillian admitted. "Now, I'm not sure. We can't have angels remembering paralyzing incidents from their past while they're in the middle of a sensitive operation. I have to rethink this. Was there a power in that new body that you were using just before a bad memory surfaced, Arthur? Are you willing to continue testing the new body?"

"I wasn't using any powers," Arthur replied. "I was sleeping. Yes, I want to keep this body."

"That was a difficult operation," Lillian continued. "Well done, you three. Let's talk about Rat now."

### # # # # # # # #

Speaking of Rat and new bodies...

It took longer than normal, but Rat reached the PUS station without incident. He had to get to Earth. DBBLN was an angel. That was the obvious explanation. Satan hadn't seen it, but Rat knew in his tiny little heart that it was so.

Back to the business at hand. Rat was finding it difficult to concentrate. Get to Earth. Go to Halifax. That's where the angel had been based. Kill the baby when Meghan was not around this time.

Rat sat on his haunches, waiting for the next PUS car, scratching idly at an itch deep in his fur. His peripheral vision caught sight of a large rat sneaking up on him and he turned to confront the aggressor. Although small in comparison, Rat chased him off easily. Nobody could sneak up on The Rat.

Rat was planning how to kill Meghan's baby when a flying cat caught him from behind in its jaws and snapped his back in half.

Mutant animals were a good idea, Satan concluded. He'd keep this one as his personal pet. The other flying cats that were now hunting for rats throughout the evacuated SinSin-atti would soon end the epidemic. Satan would keep The Rat killer as a personal pet, but he'd ban all other mutant animals. In a few more hours, Satan could allow the SinSin-atti devils to return. He had sent them to Las Vegas and the Nevada desert. That was as close to Hell as he could find on short notice.

### # # # # # # # #

_[While you were reading about Rat and flying cats, Paula was explaining their operation to bring justice to Rat including the duel scandal, and what was happening inside Rat's store. She also told Joe-Joe and Lillian about Meghan and her own personal torture of Rat's body and how she had found Rat's secret vault and had released live rats into the Black House while incriminating Rat. You already know about this, so let's skip that.]_

"You were collaborating with Meghan?" Lillian asked Winnie.

"Only at the end," Winnie answered. "She told me what she was planning to do. It wasn't going to interfere with our plans, so it wasn't a real collaboration. I didn't tell her anything about us. I had already found out about her past and how she had been kidnapped to Hell. I offered to help her escape from Hell in exchange for her help with our escape."

"You set her up in Halifax as a devil with a mortal body that was the exact duplicate of her old body."

"Yes. You told me that you supported the idea. It was easy to do and all records of Meghan as a devil have been erased. I can see that you're unhappy. Why?"

"It's unconventional."

"That's a lie. You liked it being unconventional. Why are you unhappy with me?"

...

"Romantic entanglements in an operation are not acceptable."

_[Paula: I didn't say anything, Winnie.]_

"What romantic entanglements?"

"You were holding Arthur's hand in the hospital. That and the way you were looking at each other revealed that the two of you had gone beyond a platonic friendship. Romantic entanglements will be dangerous in an operation. They can cause operations to fail. They bring unnecessary risk. I can't allow this, so therefore..."

"I haven't told you yet about the souls that Meghan had hired for Rat's store."

"I know that they were part of the store's entertainment and did the stocking."

"Yes. Meghan set it up so that sixty souls had been freed from torture. They were eating and sleeping safely. Those souls loved Meghan. They would do anything for her including offering to help her hide. When the store failed, they planned to disguise themselves and try to disappear. They knew that they'd eventually be discovered and tortured for trying to escape."

"Your point?"

"Meghan was really worried about their future. I told Meghan that I could hide them. Before we left, I did that and told each of them that they had Meghan to thank for their continued safety."

"How did you hide them?"

"I created sixty brand new hornocratic job position and assigned each soul to one of those positions. They are now acting as custodians in SinSin-atti institutions. They are being paid by the hornocracy, they can eat for free at the fast food outlets, and they can sleep in their buildings. I also created imaginary supervisors for them. The hornocracy is huge and nobody questions decisions and changes that suddenly appear. Those souls will be safe and will afterlive comfortably because of Meghan."

"Is this going somewhere?"

"It struck me when I was assigning souls to clean offices in the dead of night in the sixty biggest institutions in Hell that these souls might have access to some very confidential information. It struck me also that Megan with her devil body could easily travel in and out of Hell with nobody knowing. She could easily socialize with those souls in the dead of night. That sounded to me like somebody like you might believe was a great way for Heaven to infiltrate Hell."

Silence from Lillian.

"Mind you, at the time, I was romantically entangled with Arthur. We kissed. We're going to do that again. That probably affected my judgment. Having undercover soul spies in Hell probably isn't a good idea. I'll just throw away my notes about what identities the souls have and where they are assigned.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 58

"I can't believe what Lillian did," Winnie confided to Arthur. The debriefing was over. Joe-Joe and Lillian had departed. Paula had had a quiet word with Winnie and then she too had left the ship.

"You mean when she stood up, clapped her hand in applause, and said _Well played, Winnie_. That was quite the hug she gave you. Joe-Joe was beaming."

"I can't believe that part, yes. But, I can't believe that she snookered me."

"Snookered?"

"Sandbagged me. Fooled me. When I was telling her about Meghan, her face showed me unhappiness and anger, so I got angry back. Did I really say that you and I were going to kiss again."

"I remember the words _every day_ in there somewhere."

"Good luck with that. She's soooo sneaky. She was already planning to follow up with Meghan once she gets sorted out in Halifax."

"Joe-Joe was happy too. I believe the two of them used to be a team."

"Lillian liked the gift you picked up for them from Rat's cave. What was it anyway?"

"I gave them Rat's plaque recognizing him as a member of the Bubonic Plague team. It said it was personally awarded to Rat by Satan, May 1334. Rat kept it on his desk in a prominent position. You were talking to Paula?"

"I'm going home for my R&R. Paula will meet me there as Nymph. I said that I'd arrange it so that she could be around her daughters. She promised to wear a more subdued costume. Did you want to come too?"

"To the cadet camp?"

"More specifically to Mom and Dad's house. They have lots of room. I should warn you that I won't lie about you any more. I hate lying."

"What lying?"

"The lies about you not being my boyfriend."

"Am I your boyfriend?"

"We did share some scorching kisses on top of the Ferris wheel. Those weren't the kisses of a work colleague."

"Scorching?"

"Scorching."

"Huh. So I'm good at kissing?"

"Best kisses I've ever had."

"So, you could say that I'm a champion kisser?"

"You're **My Champion Kisser** , but I've only ever kissed one boy."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Books in the Wilizy series

As of January 2020, the Wilizy series contained twenty-one novels as listed below.

**Book #1: I Got'cha**

If you think being a teenager in today's world is tough, try being one in 2081. In Alberta's It's Only Fair society, your brain-band will zap you just for chewing with your mouth open. One boy pried his brain-band off to see what living with emotions would be like. Being chased by the entire Alberta army was bad enough. It became worse when another 15 year old kid offered to help him escape.

**Book #2: The Get-Even Bird**

Will and Izzy are forced to flee from Zzyk's army. After months away from Alberta, they fly their sailing ship into B.C. thinking that they would be safe there. Bad mistake! Izzy is captured. All Will has to do to save her life is turn himself in for a free brain-band fitting appointment. That's what happens when you wear a Zorro costume to a dance.

**Book #3: Assassination Day**

A DPS technician offers to defect if the Wilizy will rescue his daughter from _The Citadel_ – some super smart military people who are friends with Zzyk. Izzy thinks that their new recruit is an assassin, but Yollie insists that he's a decent man. Can assassins be decent men? It will take a hair-raising experience to find out.

**Book #4: Hoist the Jolly Lucas**

It's bad enough that Zzyk pins the blame for two assassinations on Izzy and launches a full out assault on their home compound. But then, another enemy takes advantage of a security lapse to get revenge for a war that happened 20 years ago. The Wilizy are left reeling with two key members kidnapped and stashed where they can't be found, let alone rescued. For the family to survive, everybody must enter the battle. The story is as much about the past as it is about the present.

**Book #5: Teenage Mutant Ninja Torpedoes** (Yes, this is a Wilizy book.)

Mac disappears and doesn't want to be found. Will and Wolf use time-travel to search for her and discover secrets she wouldn't want them to know. The Alaskans attack when Will is finding out what happens to a submarine's air when it is lying helpless on the ocean floor. Between the Alaskans' impenetrable fortress and their bubblegum weapons, life is going to get a little sticky for the Wilizy.

**Book #6: Bob, the Invisible Dragon**

Raging hormones as well as Raging Gardeners play key roles when young Wilizy warriors are attacked and the Wilizy's scientific marvels offer no protection. The youngsters' future will rely on a different kind of warrior protecting them. Warning: events at the end of the story will move quickly. They certainly won't _drag on_.

**Book #7: Nary, Nary, Quite Contrary**

Theo and Lucas move to Toronto to live on their own. Both meet girls but neither is brave enough to introduce his new friend to the family. They wouldn't have the time anyway, what with villains trying to assassinate them and Voodoo royalty greeting them as though they were Voodoo gods. At the end of the story, Lucas receives a surprise Boxing Day gift that leaves him speechless.

**Book #8: Maddy's a Baddy**

Maddy had escaped from Big Momma only to find herself all alone in the cold and begging for food in Eastern Canada. While she's trying to return to her home in Seattle, the Wilizy have their own problems. Everybody in the family is intent on bringing the judge to justice for what he did to Lucas. It would have been so easy for them to rescue Maddy, but they didn't know anything about her.

**Book #9: Bite Me!**

Spurred on by Marie's desire to eat a meal with her former slave masters, the Wilizy plan to put Safe Haven ranches out of business. In the process, they encounter two foreign assassins intent on abducting Maddy. Theo and Nary become closer but a red-eyed chaperone does not approve. The Wilizy's war with Safe Haven starts with a bang but ends with a whimper.

**Book #10: Wheelchair Moccasins!**

A 13 year old girl pretends to turn to prostitution to gain her freedom from her crime boss father. In Wilizy family news, Winnie agrees not to meddle in Mathias' love life. No, the world isn't ending, so long as you don't have a green vegetable for your name. Best advice ever? If somebody wearing moccasins and sitting in a wheelchair offers to sing you to sleep... run!

**Book #11: Trial by Nick**

After the Scandinavians attack their home base, Winnie develops an idea for defeating Crown Prince Wilhelm that is a dramatic departure from their normal military battles. In their personal lives, the Toronto teenagers have to become schnobs to keep their basketball futures alive, Lucas and Lylah begin dating, and two of EmmaGee's personalities leave her body.

**Book #12. Tickled Pink**

A man uses his unlimited wealth and power to assault women without fear of legal consequences. If they object, he'll humiliate them publicly and ruin their lives. If they don't stand up to him, their lives as they knew them will be over. But how do you fight a man who is above the law? Here's how. The Raging Gardeners help the women while Winnie attacks him where he isn't looking.

**Book #13: Second Base**

Granny and Doc enjoy a spirited life in their new Australian house while Bean has to adjust to her mother joining her in the Wilizy cadet camp. She meets a charming man with country pumpkin witticisms whose entire life is dedicated to becoming a cold blooded killer. Meanwhile, Safe Haven's impenetrable offices aren't as safe as they thought they were.

**Book #14: Old Stone Face**

Bean moves to Toronto with her sheriff who takes a job as a private detective. Before long, he's trying to bring a mad scientist to justice - the same man that Winnie is after. With both the Wilizy and a countrified sheriff after the same man, you'd think he'd be easy to catch. Too bad there are no laws about a mad scientist killing twenty-one babies.

**Book #15: Remember the Halocracy**

Reese finds Annika - his first, and only, girl friend. For reasons that nobody fully understands, he sort of kidnaps her but she willingly accompanies him to the far side of globe. Reese figures out later that she could be trying to seduce him when in fact, she's actually going to try to kill him.

**Book #16: Coffee Can Kill Ya!**

Convincing Paula's brother to give her a proper share of her parents' estate had seemed so easy. Turned out that it wasn't so easy after all. In the Wilizy's defense, murdering extra-terrestrials that tried to kidnap a corpse created unique challenges. To their credit, the Wilizy dealt with those. But, how do you deal with something that you can't see and don't even know exists?

**Book #17: Nice Birthday Party, Governor.**

Plot twists abound as the Wilizy take on the Colorado government and the NORAD military simultaneously. Maddy quits the cadet corp to run a secret operation that ends in a one-on-one battle. Melissa breaks Reese out of jail and Cowboy shows his dramatic talents, which do not include stripping. Winnie directs two dramatic productions but only one of these involves wearing respectable clothes.

**Book #18: The Tale of the Scorpion's Tail**

The Wilizy have to neutralize NORAD's nuclear missiles while defeating their air force without causing any casualties. A special weapon (guided bird poop) will be needed. Meanwhile, Heaven's guardian angels are under attack from within. The key to success? Rescuing a gerbil imprisoned in an escape-proof cage. "Molly Moonblossom" and "Nympho Maniac" play key roles. One of these actors is Winnie.

**Book #19: Brunhilda, the Steamroller.**

Billy Bump resurfaces and plans Maddy's death. Winnie accepts a secret mission but runs afoul of Yolanda, who is sure that she has a boyfriend. Yolanda's vision that Winnie will be attacked comes true. Demonic infiltrators into Heaven escape detection when the steamroller named Brunhilda prosecutes Arthur and finds him guilty. This time, he won't be going back to guardian angel school.

**Book #20: Lock Up Your Corn Starch!**

While Paula, Winnie and Arthur are on a perilous mission for Heaven, the Wilizy family is trying to rescue Charlie and Sheila from prison. Wilizy forces battle demented escaped convicts intent on slaughtering innocent victims to help a brown supremacist politician win an election. If you're intent on going to Hell when you die, be sure to read this book for a preview of what's waiting for you.

**Book #21: The Champion Kisser**

Melissa's Operation Beef Jerky, featuring pragmatic momma cows and flying unbranded calves, goes after a stinky justice. In Hell, Winnie has to deal with a dead pharmacist and an asparagus-shaped devil geek in her operation against the perfume-toting, hog-riding Rat. On her side is a pussy tat named Santa Claws and a junk food eating canary that has a fatal encounter with a loaded frying pan.

Back to the Table of Contents

# About the Author

David J. Wighton is a retired educator who enjoys writing youth novels when he's not on a basketball court coaching middle-school girls. The books in his Wilizy series peek at how people lived after the word's governments collapsed in the chaos that followed the catastrophic rise in ocean levels and the disappearance of the world's last deposits of oil.

Wighton's novels have strong teenage characters driving the plot and facing challenges that, in many respects, are no different from what teenagers face today. His novels are intended to entertain and readers will find adventure, romance, suspense, humour, a strong focus on family, plus a touch of whimsy. Wighton also writes to provoke a little thought about life in today's societies and what the future might bring. Teachers may find the series useful in the classroom and the novels are priced with that intent in mind.

Back to the Table of Contents

