

#### Brunhilda

#### by David J. Wighton

#### 

#### Book #19 in the Wilizy Series

###

### Smashwords Edition

### Copyright 2019, 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.

Roller image © Can Stock Photo / Mipan

**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 July 2090

• Doc and Granny, about 79 years old.

• Hank (about 48) and Yolanda (about 44).

• Cowboy (26), Bean (23).

• Wolf (25), Mac (24), Jock Jr. (5), Emily (4), Jock Sr. (55).

• William (24), Melissa (24), Will & Izzy (5), MayaLou (3).

• Yollie (23), TG (25), Liset (10), Yo-Yo (6), Hank (4), Ivanika (3).

• Wizard (22), Dreamer (20), Wanda (60).

• Lucas (19), Lylah and Lohla (19).

• Theo (18), Nary (18), Marie (about 80).

• Mathias (17), Kashmira (17).

• Reese (15), Winnie (14).

• Maddy (10)

• Stu McKenzie (50), Momaka (45), Petro (3).

• Cassie (the ghost).

**Main Afterlife Characters**

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

• Bertram (Big Butt), Rufus, and Gus.

**Characters in Casper Wyoming**

• Billy and his mom

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

Books in the Wilizy series

About the author: David J. Wighton

# Chapter 1

It was the day after the end of the previous book - July 4, 2090 if you're keeping track. Lillian's _Tale of the Scorpion's Tail_ operation had ended with a number of people feeling very good about what had happened. Well, perhaps that very good feeling was somewhat premature for some of our heroes.

Arthur now, he had headed off to Heaven where he was going to rest up in his aerie, as Lillian had suggested. He stopped off at a convenience store first to buy some of his favorite snack foods and then used the Piety Transport Association cars to sneak into Heaven. He was just stepping through the purity gates when two hands gripped his shoulders and stopped him in his tracks. "Going somewhere, Bud?" Police are the same everywhere - the afterlife was no exception. Arthur was detained and placed under house arrest for _traveling without approval_. He had broken a heavenly protocol.

On Wednesday, somebody added five more charges to Arthur's indictment.

1. Over-expending travel budgets and attempting to conceal that negligence.

2. Consuming food in formal departmental meetings.

3. Damaging heavenly property.

4. Inflicting banned word plays on other angels.

5. Bringing contraband food into Heaven.

There'd be a hearing. In the meantime, Arthur was confined to his aerie.

### # # # # # # # #

Paula, the dino-turtl-orpion conglomerate, had congratulated herself on dealing with Winnie who had been stubborn about leaving the top floor of the Loveland facility. She had given Winnie a small role in Goodefellow's surprise party and then ensured that she'd forget everything about the operation with a quick jab with her scorpion tail. Joe-Joe had instructed her on the dosages to use on demons and adult mortals but he hadn't said anything about dosages for skinny teenagers. Paula made a quick estimate and then warned Winnie what would be happening to her very soon. Paula had thought that she was being considerate.

Winnie now, as my readers know, doesn't always take suggestions well. Some people would call her rebellious. Others would call her a typical teenager. She immediately flew back to Montana at top speed, all the time talking into a personal diary that she had just created on her pinky ring. Words like _Arthur, Lillian, halocracy, demons,_ _heavenly protocols_ and more were scattered throughout the monologue. She reached her bedroom with her memories still intact and began creating a visual paper record of everything she could remember about Heaven, complete with sketches of Paula, Lillian, and Arthur. The memory wiper did its job at about 2 am when Winnie was lying in bed and drifting off to sleep. She awoke, saw the sketch of Paula, and that triggered a complete memory recall. It's hard to forget a dino-turtl-orpion conglomerate.

Naturally, since Heaven was all-knowing, Lillian learned of the faulty memory wipe that same day. She confronted Paula with a halographic image of Winnie sitting on her bed with a sketch of Paula's dino-turtl-orpion in front of her. She rejected Paula's excuse of not knowing the dosage by noting that Paula should never have left her on that top floor to begin with. Lillian warned Paula that since Winnie now remembered that Heaven and Hell really did exist, that awareness would jeopardize Heaven itself. As such, her HEE score had tanked. Paula would have to stay on Earth and build it up before daring to present herself at the sorting station again. How she could do that was not included in the one-sided discussion.

Arthur also should have been rebuked for not emphasizing enough that Winnie had to leave the building. However, since he was already under house arrest, Lillian let it slide for now. She'd talk to him about not standing up to Winnie after the hearing. She'd re-do Winnie's memory wipe herself. She didn't trust Arthur to do it himself.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 2

The Wilizy executives (Hank, Yolanda, Doc and Granny) were meeting several days later. This wasn't to debrief their operation against the Denver Cattlemen's Association. Everybody agreed that it had gone well and the DCA's malign influence had been removed. Jock was more concerned about another threat and had asked the directors to meet in secret. They were huddled together in the Wilizy/Europe, which was still moored over Denver. Jock arrived with William in tow.

Jock opened the discussion with a question. "What long term operations do you have on the go right now, William?"

"We're scrubbing carbon out of the atmosphere and converting that to diamonds. This is a long-term project but it doesn't take up much of my time. It's all automated, including the collection of temperature data."

"Anything else on the go?"

"I've talked with Wolf and TG about cleaning up the oceans. We have some ideas about collecting the plastic, but disposing of it has been a sticking point."

"I've asked that we keep this meeting secret because I want to talk about nuclear Armageddon. The last time that we talked about a nuclear threat, we created a lot of panic in the family. I don't want to raise that reaction again."

Doc interrupted. "You called it _Armageddon_. Typically, this word means the end of the world. Is that the meaning you intended, Jock?"

"Yes. I could paint an end of the world scenario if you asked me to."

"I thought that risk had been contained when we sealed off those silos," Yolanda said.

"We have contained the risk of a NORAD crazy person launching a missile. But that's not the danger we're still facing. Did we ever determine how those tunnels under NORAD became radioactive, William?"

"No. We've mapped the radioactivity, but we have not investigated the cause. I think we can rule out NORAD conducting nuclear tests as a cause."

"So, one of their weapons started to leak." Hank with the conclusion.

"That's my working theory," Jock agreed. "This means that other nuclear weapon storage areas around the globe might also be deteriorating. They would have been without maintenance for more than fifty years."

"Can you search for leaking radioactivity, William?"

"Yes, Doc. If you give me a site to focus on, I can put our instruments close enough to the ground to detect radioactivity. I can't find leaking radioactivity at a distance. It dissipates into the air too easily and too broadly."

_I don't like the sounds of this_ , Yolanda mind-messaged Granny.

_It's going to get worse._

"Do we know the locations where nuclear weapons have been stored around the globe, Jock?"

"No, Hank. We do not."

"Do we have any idea how many nuclear missiles are out there, Jock?"

"No, we do not."

_How'd you know it was going to get worse, Mom?_

_I can read minds, remember? Jock is very worried._

_I can't read him._

"Do you have any suggestions what we should do, Jock?"

"All I have is a starting point. We'll need a TiTr research team."

"I can talk to the Transcendental Trio," Hank volunteered.

"Can we leave Winnie out of this operation?" Yolanda asked. "She shouldn't have to confront something of this magnitude at her age. Let her continue to be naive about worldly problems for now."

_[Yolanda didn't know that Winnie was currently trying to think of a way to stop Heaven's angels from frying her brain for a third time. Technically that wasn't a worldly problem. It was an after-worldly problem. It's not likely that this technicality would deter Lillian from completing a third memory wipe.]_

"Let's leave Winnie out of it for now," Hank agreed. "We may need to involve her later when we need ideas for disposing the nuclear waste."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 3

It's the second week of July. Cowboy and Bean were standing in front of Sheila's desk in the Denver Sheriff's office. The last time Sheila and Stook had appeared in front of my readers, Stook had been elected to the Colorado Legislature and he also had masterminded the financial attack on the DCA with the imposition of back taxes. Being a member of the Colorado Legislature was not a full time job. Stook was still the Denver Sheriff and Sheila was still his office manager.

"Bean and I are heading out now," Cowboy announced." These folders have the results of my interviews with the replacement candidates. Two of them have had some experience."

"Charlie was asking about those interviews this morning. I'll give him the folders." Sheila held out her hand and the folders passed from one hand to the other. "So, you're back to working at the cadet camp for the summer?"

"Yes, but Cowboy might stay longer," Bean answered. "He's not too interested in resuming his job as a private investigator. I'll go back to Toronto for my first responder courses in the fall."

"Don't you like being a private investigator, Cowboy?"

"Too much sneaking around. Too much looking at the seamy side of life. Working with the cadets is much more enjoyable."

"Less dangerous too," Bean added.

"We'll say goodbye to you now, Sheila."

In his office, Stook saw Bean and Cowboy hugging Sheila, banged on the glass of his office window and motioned Bean and Cowboy to come in.

Sheila went back to her desk and focused her attention on her new investigative goal: learn how to read lips. So far, that wasn't **going too well**.

### # # # # # # # #

Up in Heaven, Arthur's administrative hearing wasn't **going too well** for Bertram. Administrative complaints like the ones that Bertram had lodged against Arthur were handled by a low-key hearing conducted by three guardian angel supervisors. The supervisor who had been elected to announce their findings was speaking now.

"Bertram, technically your list of complaints are all violations of one or more heavenly protocols, but they are extremely minor. The prohibition about making puns or word plays goes back several centuries and nobody has ever been charged with this offense that we know of. It's still on the books because it's more work to remove it than it is to leave it in place and ignore it. On another of your charges, all three of us supervisors regularly eat mortal junk food when we're on assignment and we don't consider ourselves flawed angels by doing this. We also bring it back to Heaven. We don't understand why that would be a problem for you. Again, we see no reason that this protocol should be on the books. On another charge, all three of us hold meetings where angels are allowed to drink coffee or some other beverage. Technically, that is consuming food in a meeting. Why would this be a problem for you?"

Bertram wasn't able to respond. At the minimum, he had expected Arthur to be reprimanded. Bertram also expected that his complaints would be lodged permanently in Arthur's personnel file. He never expected that supervising angels would openly admit that they broke important protocols regularly.

_[Narrator: I remind my readers that Bertram thought that all heavenly protocols were important. Protocol 41.4.3, for example, required that all angels thoroughly clean the nibs on their quills before leaving for the day. Bertram yearned for the good old days. He regularly used quills for his calligraphic messages and cleaned the quill and nibs as required. For those of you who are not familiar with such writing implements, a quill is a molted feather that has been pressed into duty as a writing implement. In old time Heaven, using feathers that were no longer attached was a prime way of using Heaven's natural resources carefully and effectively. That protocol had been heartily endorsed when it was introduced in 438 A.D.]_

The angel in charged banged a gavel on the table in front of him. "Here's our ruling. While Arthur may have violated some inconsequential heavenly protocols, we found nothing that warranted any disciplinary measures. Bertram, you should use administrative decisions to handle these kinds of minor violations within your cadre. Do not abuse the provisions for these hearings."

The next day, Bertram took that advice to heart. He administratively moved Arthur from his window office to an office in the middle of the floor. With a window office now suddenly available, he administratively decided that the angel in charge of this cadre should have a cubicle with **a nice view**. The shiniest desk in Heaven fit in nicely.

### # # # # # # # #

Sheila had **a nice view** of a meeting that was going on far too long for a simple good-bye. Something was decidedly up. She pulled out some folders from her second drawer and placed them in the center of her desk top, just in case. When Stook's meeting wrapped up with hand shakes all around, Sheila stood up and stepped away from her desk as the trio came out of Stook's office.

"Sheila, Cowboy and Bean have agreed to stay on for a ...."

Stook didn't get to finish. Sheila rushed forward, embraced Charlie in a big bear hug, and announced, "That's great!" To punctuate that exclamation, she planted a moist, soft pair of lips on top of Charlie's lips. "I didn't mean to do that," she confessed to the grievous physical assault that Stook had endured unflinchingly.

Everybody just stared.

"Oh, hell," she said into the vacuum of silence that she had created. "I did mean to do that." Once again, Charlie's lips were protected from the dry heat of the Denver summer.

"Why does he get kissed when we're the ones staying on?" Cowboy asked. In response to the eye roll from a certain beanpole to his right, he added. "I'm simply asking."

"Charlie is running for governor," Sheila explained to Cowboy. "That's why he asked you to stay on the job as temporary sheriff. I have three qualified administrators able to take over my job, Cowboy. You chose who you want. The applications and interview folders are on the top of my desk. We have to leave now. Charlie, your campaign office is almost ready to go. All we need is your approval. I'll show it to you."

...

"Charlie. Come on. We have work to do."

Stook shrugged, grabbed his Stetson, and followed Sheila out the door.

"You'll need at least three new suits. I would have ordered them except you've been losing weight recently and..."

"Did you know Charlie was going to run for governor?" Cowboy asked Bean.

"No. I knew he was considering it."

"Did you know about Sheila?"

"Duh," Bean duh'd.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 4

It's still the second week of July. Winnie had been busy. She had placed copies of her personal recollections of Heaven plus copies of the drawn images that helped her to reclaim her memories of Heaven on three pinky rings. She programmed the pinky rings so that they would open the embedded files only to the sound of her voice. Since Heaven's halocractic spy cameras could operate only in light, she placed one ring in the sunless tunnel in the Montana mountain connecting her parents' home with Stu and Momaka's home. She hid the second ring in the sunless tunnels connecting Melissa, Mac and Yollie's homes. She flew in complete darkness to the old Wilizy homestead in the Aboriginal Nation and hid the third ring in the sunless caves behind the home.

Now all she needed to do was send a message to herself to check the three rings on a regular schedule. In case her memory had been wiped, she'd specify a location that she should check in that message. Programming her own pinky ring to do this was easy.

Satisfied that she could regain her memories of Heaven if Lillian ordered her memories to be wiped again, Winnie took stock of what had been happening while she was busy. Her subconscious had recorded that somebody was engaged in a secret operation that didn't include her. She'd start her search for that operation by visiting Doc and Granny, but without giving them any warning that she was coming.

Granny and Doc weren't at home, but a quick GPS search revealed that they were in the Wilizy/Europe. Turns out that they weren't alone. Winnie scanned the faces of the Wilizy executive as well as the faces of Jock, Melissa, and Mac. Mac was standing and had stopped talking in mid sentence. Unfortunately for them, they didn't have any tin foil to hide their thoughts, which collectively boiled down to _Oh Oh. She's here._

"Sorry for being late," Winnie said. "What did I miss?"

### # # # # # # # #

While Hank is explaining to Winnie that the executive was meeting secretly to discuss what could be done with deteriorating nuclear missiles, let's look at Paula's week.

Paula had correctly concluded that neither Lillian nor Joe-Joe would help her raise her HEE scores. In theory, getting promoted from a ghost to an angel seemed clear enough. Do some good. This could be from helping some poor mortal or preventing a demon from hurting the mortal. She recalled the conversation that she had had with Goodefellow where he talked about his family. His mortal son was planning to murder some young girl by sniping her from the shadows. Preventing that murder would be a way to improve her HEE score.

However, the more she thought of it, the more she realized that improving her HEE would not be as easy as she had thought. Goodefellow's mortal wife was living somewhere, but she'd be impossible to find. Even if Paula did find her, she'd have no influence over her son who had been raised by a demon. The boy himself was mortal. She had no information on him except he knew how to shoot and he'd probably be somewhere in Denver. The young corpse-to-be would be equally difficult to find. She probably was hefty seeing as how she could beat up a teenage boy. What was she supposed to do? Go around asking overweight girls if they had beaten up a teenage boy recently? No matter how she looked at that challenge, Paula couldn't see any way to identify either the demon boy or the hefty girl.

How else could she raise her HEE? What assets did she have?

Paula had a demonic body that she could inhabit with a simple thought. She also had a mortal body that, all modesty aside, was very hot. And, as a ghost, she could engage in instantaneous travel if desired. Paula decided to haunt the PUS cars that carried demons and devils from Hell to various locations in Earth. If necessary, she could use her demonic body to gain entrance to demonic locations on Earth, but that might be risky. Staying invisible as a ghost was definitely preferable. Her goal? Learn more about demons and devils. Look for patterns in their travels such as locations where a lot of hellish creatures were plying their trade. If she could interfere with that, her HEE score should rise.

### # # # # # # # #

Back we go to the meeting in the Wilizy/Europe. Melissa was giving her report on what Jock was hoping would be a starting point into preventing nuclear Armageddon.

"The officer who had held the white flag and who had supervised the caging of the three NORAD crazies is a career air force major named Stanley Vincent. He entered the air force at the age of eighteen. After his first five years of service, he was shunted into search and rescue operations. According to his military records, he hadn't shown enough aggression in man-to-man combat situations to remain in battle related positions. As a pilot, he was top notch in exercises that were undertaken in foul weather. He also scored top marks in simulated battle conditions where army personnel needed medical evacuations. He reached the top position in the Search and Rescue Division and then his career stalled. When offered the opportunity to be in charge of the nuclear missile launching command center, he took the post and was promoted to the rank of Captain. Promotions within NORAD were very slow and hard to come by. When the major in charge of the base's nuclear missiles retired, Vincent was promoted into his position."

Mac took over. "As a career man, Vincent didn't get much opportunity to meet and court women. NORAD does have married quarters available for rent in Colorado Springs, but Major Vincent was apparently happy enough to rent a small bachelor's apartment off base but within cycling distance. Now at the age of forty-two, he keeps himself fit with hiking, cycling and lifting weights. These are essentially individual activities. He does spend every Friday night at the officers' mess in the fortress where he has been acclaimed as the resident arm wrestling champion. Major Vincent has had some romantic liaisons, but they went nowhere when the huntress learned that her prey felt that he was duty-bound to keep the world safe, and he would never let anything, or anybody, get in his way of fulfilling his duty."

Melissa's turn. "Major Vincent was the only officer prepared to act when it became clear that NORAS had to put Whitmore, Marshall and Breeden into a cage outside the fortress. General Whitmore tried to threaten him with treason and a death penalty. Major Vincent carried on with the arrest plus the handover of prisoners and the extorted gold and jewels. Since then, nobody in the mess has spoken to him, even though everybody inside NORAD knows that the backpack he handed over to us was full of extorted gold and jewels."

"Why are they shunning him, Jock?" Yolanda asked. "Why isn't he a hero instead?"

"Military conditioning. You must never disobey a direct order. In the soldiers' minds, Vincent ordered the arrest of his commanding officers without knowing for sure that gold and jewels were hidden in the safe in the command center. Even though he apparently saved the lives of every man in NORAD, they believe that they can't trust him. They believe the impending missile launch was a bluff and Vincent fell for it. They also believe that the gold and jewels would benefit the NORAD facility."

"How long does Vincent have before he's brought up on charges, Jock?"

"Hank, they don't have enough senior officers to hold a court martial. It's more likely that he'll have an accident."

"That's not right," Winnie interjected.

"He disobeyed orders and he can't prove that he was justified in doing so," Mac said. "Is this something we can use, Dad?"

"Yes, but first, we have to kill a brave soldier."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 5

Major Stanley Vincent was taking advantage of his day off to hike the lower levels of Cheyenne Mountain as he had many times before. He was going to hike up the mountain for two hours, stop in a clearing with a beautiful view of Colorado Springs, and return to base at a gentler pace. He'd be back in time for the dinner mess, which he would avoid. He'd eat alone instead in his apartment. He was used to eating alone.

The clearing provided a welcome rest. He drank the rest of the water in his first canteen while sitting on a rock overlooking a steep tree-less cliff. He heard some hikers enter the clearing but ignored them. Cheyenne Mountain always had hikers in the summer time.

"Major Stanley Vincent?" a male voice asked.

"Yes," Vincent replied and turned around. He saw three men in hiking attire. The posture of two of them said _military_. The third was bent over wheezing. His posture said _not military_.

"Major, my name is Jock MacLatchie and I am the Commanding General of the Saskatchewan army. My credentials, Major." Jock held out a wallet open to a photo ID card.

Vincent examined the ID and waited.

"Major, I have been chosen as the senior officer who will adjudicate a military court martial that will determine the future of the three men that you put in a cage recently. That court martial will be held in Switzerland."

"Switzerland?"

"The three men you caged have been accused of a number of serious charges including extortion against the Swiss nation. They will be tried where the crimes occurred. The man beside me is a lawyer and has a document to serve on you."

Stu had recovered enough energy to stand erect and he placed a sealed envelope in Vincent's extended hand. "You are hereby subpoenaed to give testimony to the Swiss military court martial about what you saw and learned when you were serving as an officer of the NORAD armed forces. If it's necessary, we will arrest you and take you to Switzerland for the trial. I have an extradition notice if we need to compel you to give evidence."

"And he's the man who will try to compel me?" Vincent pointed his chin at the big man standing at parade rest.

"I doubt very much that we will need to compel you, Major. He's here to protect you. We are aware of the pressures that your comrades in arms are building against you. You must realize by now that you have no future where you are currently serving. We have heard that some of your comrades are planning for you to have an accident. Lieutenant Wiltz will make sure that doesn't happen while you are in our protective custody."

"How long before the trial?"

"Uncertain at this time. We propose to tape your evidence here in North America. We will hide you in a military facility until the trial is concluded. If the Swiss tribunal requires further information from you, we will transport you to Switzerland and back. You are free to leave at any time after that. Up to then though, this subpoena requires you to remain in our custody. I emphasize, Major, that you yourself are not facing any charges."

...

"Major? Your decision?"

"I'll need to return to my apartment."

"We've taken the liberty of packing up all of your personal gear, Major. We didn't want to risk one of NORAD's attack copters being there when you arrived. Shall we go?"

"I'll follow you down," Stu said. "I'm still a little woozy from the altitude."

_[Narrator: Denver's football stadium was called the Mile High Stadium and that's not because they sold pot in the stadium.]_

"I'll stay with you and make sure you get down the mountain safely," Lieutenant Wiltz offered.

....

It took fifteen minutes to set the scene. The major's parade uniform was now on the ground near the cliff face, folded and in pristine wrinkle free condition. His service medals were fastened to his shirt. The NORAD emblem on his cap gleamed, as did his parade boots. A thin wallet was in the right boot, open to his military ID. His military and civilian keys were in the toes of his left boot. A rolled piece of NORAD letterhead was inside the left boot. In it, somebody had printed off the following words.

_I cannot live any longer knowing the shame that I have brought to the NORAD military. I take full responsibility for my actions_.

The signature was a reasonable approximation to the signatures that Stu had found in the major's personal documents, which were in his apartment that had received three unannounced guests recently. The clothes and the boots on the dummy body were taken directly from his closet. The dummy along with the wig had come from a second hand store that Hank frequented. Lucas used his sling to lodge the dummy deep in a crevasse between two large boulders half way down the cliff. Next, he flew back up to the top of the cliff and used his sling to bound feet first down the cliff face, thereby creating mini landslides that slid down the cliff and into that crevasse. The parade uniform, cap and parade boots would remain at the top of the cliff where they would be found within a matter of days.

_How's this now, Stu?_ Lucas mind-messaged.

_Perfect. It looks like a corpse and nobody will be climbing down this cliff to check._

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie had attended the planning meeting where the executive had talked about steering Major Vincent into living in the cadet camp as a protective precaution. When she talked with her dad about how long the Wilizy's nuclear operation would last, she quickly lost interest. Playing the role of a prostitute in the DCA building had been exciting at first, but repeating the same lines and actions day after day had quickly become boring. This operation on the nuclear missiles was important, which she liked. But it also would be a day after day after day grind. She told her dad that she'd be available in the planning sessions if he needed her, but she had another project on the go. When he asked what it was, she replied that she was thinking of becoming a media reporter and wanted to find out more about that kind of job.

That lie was somewhat true. Winnie couldn't tell him the full truth because he would tell Yolanda and that would be the end of what she was really planning to do, namely reprise the role of Molly Moonblossom and go looking for Goodefellow's wife and son. In part, she had enjoyed being an investigative reporter who could interview a demon and get away with it. But she also had another reason to pursue Goodefellow's family. Something fundamentally unfair required investigation. _How come Heaven's angels weren't able to have children but Hell's demons could?_ Something was seriously wrong here. Demons and devils could have sex, but angels couldn't? If mortals ever found out about that inequity, nobody would want to go to Heaven at all. Surely, this was a mistake.

Winnie had another thought. If Goodefellow had mated with a female demon, did that mean that she had to give up her career as a sin-creating demon in order to raise her own demon? Given the nature of Hell, she almost certainly would have had to do that. How did Goodefellow's mate feel about that? An entire interview could be built around the state of women's rights in a male dominated Hell.

What about the kid? What kind of school would they send him to? Public school curricula aren't built to teach demon progeny how to torture. Yes, there was always the playground, but what would the little demon do in regular classes? Would it be homeschooled? Would it go on field trips where it would learn how to tempt other little kids in sins? Wasn't that against the Heaven-Hell agreement?

Would the little monster have a small hellish body in addition to a small mortal body? What kind of difficulties would he have when he entered his teenage years? Would his form of rebellion be to threaten his parents that he'd take a career in Heavenly Studies? Would he threaten to take up a career as a monk or a member of the clergy? Speaking of which.... What about all those religious guys who were caught abusing young children back before _The Troubles?_ Where they the progeny of two married demons? If so, what was the marriage ceremony like? What vows did they take? To hate, abuse, and sin? So many questions to ask. Molly Moonblossom was just the person to find the answers.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 6

"You don't need me here now," Bean explained to Cowboy. "Both of the deputies that you hired can do what I am doing. The cadet camp needs me. They're struggling to cover the curriculum that Mac wants them to learn."

"I thought they had a new instructor now."

"They do. He has a strong military background but he's only temporary. He volunteered to help as a way to keep busy. Lylah and Lohla are instructing but neither of them has a military background. I can provide that. You and I can still hang out on the weekends."

"I didn't actually want this sheriff's job. I told Stook that I'd fill in for him until the election for governor was over and that was all."

"Sheila has him travelling all over the state. He's generating a lot of buzz and that means a lot of donations to his campaign. They had to hire new staff to handle it. Sheila was too busy."

"You should go help the cadets. Just don't get too friendly with the new guy."

"He's way old. Must be in his 40s. My mom says that he looks like he wants to die. She's worried about him. He might have lost his wife or something but nobody knows where he came from."

"The election is coming up. Stook looks like he's guaranteed to win. Go be a cadet instructor."

### # # # # # # # #

Paula was learning a lot riding the PUS cars. She was now used to handling personal challenges from some of the bigger bodied demons. It was simply a case of staring them down now. No demon wanted to find out what her dinosaur legs would do in a fight. She had been riding the cars enough now that some of the demons were recognizing her. They'd nod and go their way. She tried to avoid leaving the car with other demons or devils and entering human territory. She didn't want them noticing her mortal body and so far, she hadn't had to reveal that. She hadn't thought any further about finding Goodefellow's son. It was time to go back to that. A few more days riding PUS and she'd quit the cars. Sadly, she hardly noticed the stench any more.

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie hadn't managed to get anywhere on her efforts to locate Goodefellow's family either. She was planning to search Loveland, but didn't have the foggiest idea how to identify a stay-at-home demon and a kid. Instead of beating her head against a brick wall that had no answers, she decided to pray. That prayer went something like this.

_My name is Winnie Wiltz and I am contacting Prayer Central with a request that you pass this prayer on to one of your PR angels. Her name is Lillian. I have a proposal for her. I'll be in my bedroom in my old house in the Aboriginal Nation for the next forty-eight hours. I'll be interested to see if she can get inside the house without setting off the alarms._

### # # # # # # # #

"You made it through the security," Winnie observed to the figure standing next to where her old bed had been. "Is that your usual mortal body?"

"One of them."

"I'm trying to help you. Don't memory wipe me. I have an antidote and if you wipe me, I won't help you."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a consequence. Leave my memory alone and we can talk about a research project that I want to do."

"There is no antidote to our memory wiper. Our scientists agree on that."

"Paula wiped my memories and yet, here I am talking to you about Heaven. I know about Prayer Central, guardian angel buildings, Joe-Joe the angel who creates new types of weapons for angelic bodies, Arthur, Paula the dinosaur demon. I remember everything. Looks like your scientists were wrong."

"You're making lucky guesses from some terrible science fiction novels that some old geezer wrote and you read. He's not a reliable source of information."

"I'm telling you what I personally remember. Use your truth ray. I remember that as well."

"Give me your hand."

...

"Whoa. Why am I dizzy?"

"We crossed a number of dimensions. Do you recognize this place?"

"Your office in Heaven?"

"Not exactly, but close enough. Truth ray on."

Winnie watched a bright light track across the office until it was shining on her face. "My name is Molly Moonblossom."

The light flashed red.

"Are you playing games?"

"Just checking if the light worked."

"Do you have an antidote to our memory wiper?"

"If you wipe my memories, I can get them back. You can't stop me from doing that."

The light continued to shine steadily on Winnie's face.

"I could imprison you in Heaven."

"That would be a violation of the Heavenly Protocols. I read them when I was here, you know."

The light continued to shine steadily on Winnie's face.

"I helped you catch Goodefellow."

"You did."

"Arthur said that you gave me a growth spurt as a way of thanking me. Is that true?"

Can you read my face and tell if I'm being truthful?"

"I have no comment on that at this time."

"You've been hanging around too many lawyers and politicians. Truth ray on Lillian."

The light changed direction.

"Ask your question."

"Did you give me a growth spurt as a way of thanking me?"

"I did. Your growth hormones were damaged during your premature birth. You were an innocent and were hurt by a hellish encounter. I righted a wrong."

"I owe you for doing that. I have an idea about researching Goodefellow's wife and son. Two demons were raising a demon kid while on assignment to Earth. I bet that Heaven doesn't encounter that very often."

"You'd be right."

"I'll need some help to get started. Are you interested?"

"I am."

"Will you give me angelic resources?"

"Yes. You can arrange for those through Arthur. I will set up a link so that he and you can communicate even though he may be in Heaven and you're on Earth."

"Was he promoted for rescuing you?"

"Yes, he did."

"Has he been demoted yet?"

"Almost."

"Do I have to team up with Arthur?"

"Yes."

"Really? Must I?"

"Yes."

...

"Alright. It's a deal. How do I reach him?"

"Wait a day. After that, you'll be able to talk directly with him. Start your conversation with the words _Winnie to Arthur_. That will turn on the communication link. He'll have the same capability of talking with you."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 7

Speaking of Arthur, he was sitting in the back row of Heaven's Assembly Plaza Building where Bertram was conducting another of his statistic lectures. This particular Monday meeting was different though. An angel in black feathers was standing next to Bertram and handing him the transparencies that formed the basis of Bertram's instruction. Bertram would hold out his hand and the black-feathered angel would slap a transparency into his hand. It was like watching surgery in action. Except that transparencies are flimsy in nature and so _slapping_ them into his hand was hard to achieve. Try _wilting_ them into his hand instead. Inevitably, Bertram would be slow on the grab, and the transparency would flutter to the floor. At this point, Black Feathers would bend over and try to pick up the transparency, which was now affixed to the floor with static electricity. By the time he had peeled it off, Bertram would be snapping his fingers in exasperation which would stress Black Feathers who would then drop the flimsy and so on and so on. Arthur was enjoying himself as the Bertram-Rufus show progressed. He had one distressing thought however.

_These Monday morning meetings are becoming quite entertaining. Bertram is now using a co-op student to hand him his lecture notes on a transparency that is only forty years or so out of date. Oops, it fell again. Rufus picked it up but handed it to him upside down. Bertram turned it over and put it on the projector. Now it's upside down as well as facing the wrong way. Rufus is trying to help. Bertram is slapping his hand away. Now he's lifting the transparency into the light and peering at it. Trying again on the projector. It's still wrong side up. As frustrating as this is, these meetings are still better than having to work with Winnie. Why is Lillian punishing me? She already spoke to me about her being in the LCRI building after the hearing. What was I supposed to do? Lift her up and physically toss her out of the building?_

### # # # # # # # #

Stanley Vincent was sitting in Lieutenant Karlsson's office at the cadet camp which, for now, was Karlsson-deficient. Jock and Stu were sitting with Vincent, and all three were looking at a big screen. They had already explained to the major that they were watching a record of a court martial that had been held in Switzerland the previous day. The tribunal had consisted of three high ranking officials: the Major General of the Saskatchewan army, the ranking General of the Swiss Army, and the Minister of the Swiss Armed Forces when the illegalities had occurred. Stu had been the prosecutor. This particular tape was for General Whitmore's court martial. The other two NORAD men had received similar experiences. General Whitmore was serving as his own defense counsel. Stu had fast-forwarded to the part of the court martial where he asked the general questions about the first ransom pickup.

"I show you copies of the correspondence you sent to the Swiss government in December 2089. In it, you are telling them to pay gold valued at $150,000 francs or else you will destroy another bank. Did you send this correspondence?"

"Yes, but as I have said, any such fund raising activities were intended to keep the NORAD facility functioning. We were the sole military installation in the former United States that was still operational."

"I am now showing the court a video of a black copter picking up a black waterproof duffle bag out of a snow drift on Mount Pilatus on December 31, 2089 as per the camera's date stamp. Is that the copter that you sent to Switzerland?"

"Yes."

"I am now showing the court a video of a black copter landing outside the NORAD facility. An officer is leaving the copter holding a black waterproof duffle bag and is handing it to you. Was that the 150,000 francs worth of gold that you extorted from the Swiss government?"

"That was the gold that the Swiss government paid us for protecting their banks. No bank was ever destroyed after they had become part of our bank protection services."

"I am now showing a video of command center office on the second level inside the NORAD facility. In it, you are opening the duffle bag and pulling out the contents. With you are your two co-conspirators. The date stamp on this video is January 1, 2090. Do you agree that this is the gold that the Swiss government paid to you?"

"This is a fake video. There is no way that any form of surveillance could have been installed inside the NORAD fortress."

"But clearly, this is a surveillance tape and here you are pulling out the gold. Now you are splitting the gold into three parts with your part being the largest. What did you do with your share of the ransom, General?"

"This is a fake video."

"I am circulating a copy of a legal document that I served on the manager of the Swiss Guards Group Bank based in Denver Colorado. That document required the manager to open a safety deposit box registered to you, General. In that safety deposit box, I found approximately 60,000 francs worth of gold. The bank records indicate that you visited the SGG bank on January 3, 2090 and accessed your safety deposit box. General, how do you account for this amount of gold being found in your personal safety deposit box."

"I didn't believe that the safe in NORAD operational command center was secure enough. My caution was justified because some of the NORAD personnel picking up other payments from the Swiss Government absconded with the funds. I was quite justified in keeping these NORAD funds safe from thieves."

"Those personnel did not steal the money, General. They were captured and imprisoned as Prisoners of War in Switzerland. You did steal the money, General. If you didn't, you should be able to provide us with a NORAD record of this gold being taken off site and installed in another NORAD safe place. Can you show me any such document, General?"

"The document you want was stolen from the safe in the command center. This is further proof that that safe was insecure and I was justified in removing the gold from the base."

"But where are the copies of that document, General? Military offices generally make multiple copies of important documents and they would have been stored in various offices in the NORAD installation. Where are those copies, General?"

...

"Since you can't answer, let's move on. I'm circulating a ransom letter that you sent to the Swiss government in January 2090 demanding 200,000 worth of diamonds. Did you order this note to be sent and did you order the pickup at Lake Leman in Geneva at the end of January, General?"

"It wasn't a ransom. There was no threat in the letter."

"An interesting thing happened when we opened up your safety deposit box in the SGG. In addition to the gold, we found diamonds worth about 100,000 in Swiss Francs. You visited your safety deposit box on February 3. Where'd those diamonds come from, General?"

"I was keeping them safe."

"Apparently, so were your two co-conspirators. They too had gold and diamonds in their safety deposit boxes. We'll be talking to them about that."

### # # # # # # # #

_[Narrator interlude.]_

Heaven's co-op program is a recent innovation. Managed by the Heaven-Hell Liaison Office, it was intended to resolve personnel pressures in both 'cracies. Only borderline condemned souls in Hell were eligible for the program. These were souls that weren't quite good enough to enter Heaven, but they weren't bad enough to deserve lengthy pit sentences either. With no entertainment value to be gained from storing these souls, some bright devil had suggested that Hell pawn them off on Heaven and the co-op program was born.

Hell's accountants liked the program because they could write off the souls' after-living expenses, thereby making Hell's GNP (Grossly Nauseating Profit) almost as big as that of Earth's banks before hunting bankers had become a blood sport. Heaven also liked the program - believing that help in reducing angelic workload was worth the risk.

Safeguards were in place. Co-ops were supposed to be kept away from sensitive data and areas - their distinctive uniform making that prohibition easy to implement. First term co-ops were dressed in char black feathers and as they earned success in completing their work terms, they graduated to lighter and lighter shades of black. My readers may now understand how desperate Heaven was for souls that it would provide this back door entrance.

### # # # # # # # #

"All three men were found guilty at their court martials," Stu concluded the video part of the meeting in Karlsson's office and left.

"How'd you get that surveillance data on the interior of the fortress, Jock?" Vincent asked.

"We had been watching NORAD for some time. Your instincts were correct about those three men. What made you doubt them?"

"Everybody on the base knew that we were extorting money. Some believed that the money would be used to maintain the NORAD military presence which we all believed was a necessity for the safety of our area of the country."

"But you had concerns?"

"It was a matter of honour. NORAD has had a distinct and impressive history. Since NORAD would be the first installation targeted in the event of a nuclear war, personnel assigned to NORAD in the 20th century were putting their lives at the risk of a nuclear conflagration occurring on their watch. Those men were willing to die for their country. We had an honourable past. Extorting money by threatening the destruction of private property is not the work of an honourable military unit. Attacking countries without provocation is an act of dishonour."

"Did you know that the three of them were stealing the gold and diamonds for themselves?"

"No, but I suspected it. Men who would dishonourably attack another country would engage in other dishonourable behaviour as well. That was inevitable."

"So you arrested them and saw them brought to justice but at a cost to your military career."

"At the cost of a military career that had become dishonourable."

"What now? Where will you go? What will you do?"

"Your planes don't have weaponry and do not have the necessary physical structures to add weaponry. Nevertheless, I saw that those planes carried missiles that destroyed NORAD's copters from a distance that our missiles could not reach. How did you do that?"

"Consider that a military secret."

"And your surveillance inside the fortress?"

"Same answer."

"Are you aware that your cadet camp is sadly understaffed?"

"Yes. We're working on that."

"Are you aware that Lieutenant Karlsson has had very little military training and, other than his genuine affection for his cadets, he is not equipped to fulfill his duties. He doesn't have the knowledge or the background. He's a good man, but he should stick to instructing."

"Did you notice anything else?"

"Your senior most instructor, Lucas, is a second lieutenant. None of the other instructors have any military rank at all."

"Sad, but true."

"You need a new commandant for your cadets. No disrespect to your daughter Jock, but she can't be a full time mother and a full time camp commandant."

"That's been a struggle for her at times. What do you think about the prospect of female cadets?"

"Why do you have so few? NORAD suffered from blatant discrimination. Not a single woman was enlisted in the staff of NORAD's fortress. Why do you only have one female cadet?"

"What's your position on nuclear weapons?"

"NORAD's nuclear warheads were deteriorating. We had a leak that poisoned an entire set of tunnels. Nobody in NORAD knew how to maintain them. I only knew how to fire them. If we were having trouble with the warheads, then all of the other countries around the globe with nuclear weapons will be experiencing difficulties soon too. Nuclear poisoning could be a world disaster waiting to happen."

"Any idea how many nuclear silos are out there?"

"No, but I know how to find out."

"Let me bring Stu back into the meeting. He has an offer to extend to you."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 8

Major Vincent acted quickly to establish his authority as the new camp commandant. He eliminated the infiltration squad, which had been rendered ineffective by their sargeant's desertion. He switched the assignments of some platoon leaders and demoted others. Boys who could lead by example were favored over boys who tried to lead by yelling. He made no effort to give Maddy special treatment, choosing simply to stick her into a platoon that needed another cadet. He observed that platoon in action and saw that she had been accepted as a full member.

Under Major Vincent, physical training expectations became much more rigorous and time consuming but that was a gradual change. Vincent also introduced instruction in personal weaponry. Cadets had to be proficient with their weapons while making somersaults on the tramps. Later, they'd add spins on the tramps. Maddy already had proficiency in those kinds of gymnastics, so she was ahead of the boys for once. With Lieutenant Bean in charge of the weaponry classes, she was developing an excellent shooting eye. When she wasn't in classes, Maddy continued to go for long morning runs in the wilderness and to learn martial arts with Momaka in the evenings after supper.

### # # # # # # # #

"I'm bored," the teenage boy said. "I hate small towns. There's nothing to do."

"It's not a small town," his mother countered. "It's a small city."

"Whatever. It's out in the wilderness and there's nothing to do. Why do I have to live here?"

This was a delicate matter for the mom. Her husband had chosen this small city where she and her son would live. Her husband had worked in Colorado, an hour away by copter, and had returned home only on the weekends. As the boy grew up, her husband had grown increasingly upset with how she was raising him. This had led to many arguments, all of which she lost. She simply couldn't stand up to him. At one point, he had taken the boy from her and had put him to work in a place where he would be on his own. He did this to toughen him up because she was molly-coddling him. In his often expressed opinion, he'd never reach his potential if he continued to live with her.

The mom worked at a local hotel as a maid. The hotel gave her lunch as part of her job and she took full advantage of that offer. They also guaranteed her five days of work each week, each month, and each year. They couldn't put her to work in their restaurant as she was enormously fat and would have trouble moving between the tables. But she worked hard and had a bit of a cleaning fetish, which room maids needed. Most of all, she was reliable. She never took any holidays or left town for any reason.

Her husband was an executive of some kind. He never talked about his job with his wife, but he did ensure that she had enough money to feed and clothe the boy. Whatever she needed for herself, she had to find the money for that on her own. Hence, the job as room maid. He had made it abundantly clear to her what her position in the family was. The boy was his. She was a mistake. He would have sent her packing except that she threatened to take him to court. In a small city, with him spending all of his time away on work, she would have won legal custody of the boy.

She had become a single mom three weeks ago in early July. She never did find out how her husband had died. With his death, she now owned a two bedroom rustic cabin on the outskirts of town. _Rustic_ is real estate agent code for dilapidated. She kept it clean inside - the cleaning fetish at work. But she didn't care about the exterior and her husband had showed no inclination to fix the place up. It was warm in the winter and shaded in the summer. That's all she cared about.

At the time of her husband's death, her son was back living with her. He had appeared one day in March and announced that he had come home. He never said anything about what had happened to him during his father's toughening up lessons. Her husband had explained his absence simply as he was out in the real world learning his craft, whatever that was supposed to mean. Whatever it was, it didn't work. He had come home hurt. A shoulder problem but it would heal. But he was emotionally hurt too. She could see it, but he wouldn't open up to her about what had happened.

"Did you hear me? I'm still bored, Mom."

"I was trying to think about something you could do that would lead to a job. What about hunting?"

"What about it?"

"Your dad taught you how to track animals and shoot them, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Some of it."

"Some town men make a good living taking tourists out into the mountains and hunting for wild game. It can be a year round job. I bet any of these men would welcome having an assistant to help set up camp, cook, and track. Are you a good shot?"

"I know how to use a sniper's scope."

"Sounds like this would be a job you might enjoy."

"The last time Dad yelled at me, he ordered me to do some hunting. He was very insistent."

The bit about her husband yelling wasn't new to her. Usually he yelled at her. Her son must have done something really bad to get yelled at. No point in asking what.

"Well, if you don't want to be bored, think about hunting as something you could do this summer."

"I could see myself being a hunter," her son said. "I think I'd enjoy it a lot."

### # # # # # # # #

Major Vincent did indeed know how to determine how many nuclear silos were out there. At one point before _The Troubles_ , the United States had actually researched that exact question using spies and satellites. As part of planning a response to a nuclear attack, every single one of those silos had been targeted for a missile attack. Those battle scenarios were stored in NORAD's records somewhere. Vincent knew the rough location within their filing system, but had no access now to their computers.

"Don't worry about that," Jock said. "You've helped us out a lot. Focus on your cadet camp duties now."

Back to the Table of Contents

#  Chapter 9

August 1, 2090. This was the day that Winnie would start her operation that would reveal to the world that demons did exist and that female demons were discriminated against. She'd call the operation _Molly Moonblossom and her quest for equal rights for women in the afterlife_. Or something like that.

Or maybe not. Winnie wasn't absolutely sure that she should be revealing anything about her operation to anybody. Keeping the existence of Heaven and Hell a secret was probably a good thing. But still, she wanted to find Goodefellow's family if only to prove that humans were equally as good at fighting Hell as Heaven was. Make that equally as good as Arthur was. Bossy, scruffy, sloppy old thing. Just because Lillian had said that she had to have a partner didn't mean that Winnie had to give him anything to do. It was her operation after all.

The strategy for the operation seemed simple enough. Goodefellow had a family. He would visit them. Perhaps not every day, but he'd visit them. The key was to watch what Goodefellow did after hours. Eventually, he'd lead Winnie to where his wife and child were living. With Goodefellow dead, that meant she would have to time-travel and that meant a partner. Marie was out. She'd be sure to tell Yolanda what Winnie was doing. Reese wouldn't snitch.

So, on a blowy winter afternoon of January 1, 2090, Winnie and Reese were circling slowly over the LCRI building but in TiTr mode. Winnie had brought a collection of drones that she could plant around the exterior of the LCRI building if her first attempt to follow Goodefellow home didn't work. She was optimistic that it would. Nobody would work twenty-four hours a day. Certainly no demon. An angel might. But not a demon.

At 5 pm sharp, people started to leave the LCRI building. Goodefellow was one of them. He sauntered south, towards the city center, such as it was. Winnie and Reese saunter-flied behind him.

"Why are we following Goodefellow, Winnie?"

"To learn more about what he does." Winnie hadn't actually told Reese anything about her operation. _Loose Lips Sinks Ships_ after all. This was a saying from centuries back when the world was in a war where one side was destroying ships that were carrying food and armaments to the other side. If somebody disclosed when those ships were leaving (loose lips), that potentially meant that the armada could be destroyed (i.e. sink the ships). Winnie wasn't sure what the equivalent to that slogan would be today. _Loose lips get me in trouble with Mom_?

"I told you he was dangerous, Winnie. You shouldn't be doing this."

"All we're going to do is follow him. We won't go anywhere near him." ( _We WILL go near his family, but Reese doesn't need to know that.)_

"I don't like this."

"It will be fine. You'll see."

Goodefellow approached the biggest building in Loveland and entered. Winnie and Reese slipped into the building as well. Goodefellow stood in front of one of the elevators and pushed the down button.

It was at this point that Winnie remembered Arthur's description of Hell's Pagan Underground Service and how demons would take elevators to the very bottom of a mortal building and climb into a PUS car. That car could take them anywhere Hell's subway service went. She had found out how Goodefellow was going home. Now all she had to do was follow him. She and Reese were invisible. He'd never notice them.

"Please tell me that you're not thinking of stepping into that elevator, Winnie."

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie and Reese had no difficulty entering the elevator which had a high ceiling and a door that stayed open long enough to sneak in. Goodefellow was the only occupant of the elevator. Not many people would want to go downstairs in a building that technically didn't have a basement.

The elevator door opened and Goodefellow exited into a typical empty subway platform. His body immediately turned into some sort of giant slug. Reese just as immediately had a panic attack. While Winnie was trying to calm him down, their invisibility disappeared and so did their flying ability. Winnie remembered Arthur saying something about their sling system possibly not working in an afterlife environment. Ooops. It was at that point that Earth's future changed. And not in a good way.

Goodefellow went back to the LCRI building, killed Lillian, and reported to his superiors that Heaven had discovered a way to disguise their angels as flying invisible mortals. This was an unprecedented violation of the afterlife peace treaty. Hell armed all of its tortured souls with pitchforks and millions of them attacked Heaven's purity gates simultaneously. Heaven's small military force couldn't withstand the onslaught. Heaven was overrun within hours. Hell's leadership recognized that they didn't need to hide in the underground any longer and came up to the surface and took over the world. Mortals were used as sex slaves, or bankers, or whatever other horrific thing that Hell wanted them to be. From that point forward, January 1 would be celebrated as the day when a girl named Winnie helped Hell destroy Heaven and take over the world. They even named a coin after her. The Winnie.

### # # # # # # # #

"Please tell me that you're not thinking of stepping into that elevator, Winnie."

"I'm not."

"What are we going to do now?"

"This line of research won't work, Reese. I don't know what I'm going to do now."

"Let's go back to the present."

"Might as well. Thanks, Reese. Loose lips sink ships, right?"

"Huh?"

Reese wasn't up to speed on ancient sayings.

"Don't tell Mom."

"Do I look like I have a death wish?"

### # # # # # # # #

Arthur didn't know anything about loose lips or any other silly mortal saying. He did know a lot about statistics. Well, it wasn't A LOT, but it was way more than he wanted to know.

You see, in the mortal world, statistics and people who enjoy statistics are seen as threats to sanity. You don't want to hang around these people in case whatever derangement they have that caused them to be statistical adherents was contagious. In normal mortal life, statistics are used to lie to or to confuse people. Here's an example.

One hundred percent of d _octors surveyed recommend drinking your own urine. Drink some today. It's cheap because you produce your own._

Apart for the yeech reaction you just had, this ad, which has never appeared, could simply mean that two doctors liked this form of drink and they were both unusual in their preferences for a refreshing beverage. But a statistical claim (that thing with the percentage sign) was able to suggest something entirely different than any normal human would believe was good for them. Statistics are very common in campaigns where somebody is trying to sell you something or is trying to persuade you to vote in a certain manner. There is a high slime component to these kinds of campaigns.

It shouldn't surprise you then, that Heaven didn't have many statistical experts on staff. Few would make it past their HEE. Arthur would know about that scarcity. He had spent a lot of time searching for somebody in Heaven who could reassure him that quoting favorable statistics on the effectiveness of something that hadn't happened was a terrible argument for killing the Flying Force.

You've probably forgotten about the incident that had happened in one of Bertram's meetings. You forgot because it was about statistics and no normal person wants to fill up memory cells with something that doesn't make any sense. Here's the actual quote that you read in Chapter 25 of _The Tale of the Scorpion's Tail_. Think of something more pleasant, a rotting carcass of a horse's head in your bed for example, if you don't want to relive the trauma of a statistical event.

_Arthur hadn't bought Bertram's condemnation of the Flying Force. Firstly, he doubted that prayers could be used as a measure of happiness. More importantly, even if there was a good way to statistically measure happiness before and after a Flying Force intervention, he didn't see the point of doing that. The Flying Force's job was to prevent bad things from happening to humans. How could you measure mortal happiness over something that they didn't know had happened?_

Do you remember now? Put your head between your knees, put your hands on the back of your head, and press up against your hands if you're in danger of losing consciousness.

All of this to say, statistics could be better described as a blight on mankind that deserved to be in Hell, which apparently is where most of its practitioners went. Arthur couldn't find any angel who could provide a definitive answer to his question. _Was this happiness measure of the Flying Force's achievements (preventing demonic torture) a proper use of statistics?_

Not only that, but Lillian knew what had happened and had told Arthur to leave it alone.

Not only that, but a black co-op student was now assigned to help Bertram in his statistics class. Black co-ops were one step removed from Hell.

Not only that, but Bertram had mentioned that he had teaching notes on statistics. What kind of angel teaches statistics and keeps potentially incriminating teaching notes?

So, Arthur had started his own secret investigation. Obviously, Lillian had been bamboozled along with the other angels in Divisional Management. But Lillian was unhappy with Arthur and had assigned him to help a stubborn little mortal girl with something that she wanted to do. They were now a team. They had an inter-world communications link that either of them could open with a simple hail. Well, he was busy on something far more important than whatever she wanted to do. Just because they were a team, that didn't mean he actually had to help her.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 10

"Hi, my name is Molly Moonblossom and I'd like to have a quick meeting with Mr. Goodefellow. He's seen me before."

"Yes, Ms. Moonblossom. I recognize you from your previous visit. I'm sorry that I can't arrange that meeting for you."

"Perhaps later in the week? Is he on summer holidays?"

"No, Ms. Moonblossom. Mr. Goodefellow has left the LCRI."

"Do you have a forwarding address? I want to talk to him about his chances of running for president of the New United States. I must say I heard a lot of buzz about that."

"The staff hasn't been told anything about Mr. Goodefellow's resignation, nor have we been given information on where he could be contacted."

"That's too bad. I hope it wasn't a family emergency."

"Family?"

"Yes. A wife and son. He was very attached to them. Would you know where they might be? Perhaps a mailing address is in the file?"

"I don't have access to personnel files. Our new president, Mr. Cuter, might know about the family. He's out of town right now. He's always away the first Monday of every month. Home office meetings, you know."

"Mr. Goodefellow was such a magnetic personality. I saw his potential to be a president as soon as I meth him. I was hoping to become a member of his staff. The last time we met, I gave him a huge folder containing years of my research, including a plan for his political future. Do you think that my research might still be in his office? I'd like to have it back."

"Mr. Cuter has changed that office considerably. I doubt that anything that you gave him would be still around. We had to bring in a cleaning service to fumigate everything. The gerbils, you know."

"Oh, what a disappointment. I don't know what I'm going to do. I've lost a year of my life."

"You might want to check his personal copter. It's still in the parking lot. I noticed it this morning and was going to tell Mr. Cuter about it when he returned from his meetings."

"I'll go and check right now. What's it look like?"

"Almost solid black with red streaks along the fuselage."

"I'll peak inside and come back to tell you if the folder is there. Thanks."

### # # # # # # # #

With access to the full PUS network, Winnie reasoned that a personal copter would be needed only if Goodefellow wanted to travel to a place that didn't have PUS. Like a home away from Loveland where people wouldn't notice that he had a family. That suggested that he was living in a small town out in the boonies.

Winnie could TiTr that copter and place observational drones around it. Then, there'd be the question of tracking it when Goodefellow flew off. TiTr'g would be difficult to begin with because Reese probably wouldn't agree to be her partner again. Nobody else would agree without an explanation and how would she explain her desire to watch a demon flying off to his demon wife and child?

Even if she did manage to place some drones and find the last time that Goodefellow had used the copter, it was very difficult to track a copter flying in the past. What would happen if Goodefellow had a subliminal warning and that changed the future? No. Time travel was far too dangerous. But Lillian had agreed to give her access to heavenly resources. Halocratic records were heavenly resources. A few minutes later, Winnie had a picture of the copter. All she needed to do was ask Arthur to set her up in Heaven in front of a halocratic reader.

### # # # # # # # #

"Winnie to Arthur."

...

"Arthur, I have great news. I found a starting point for my research. I need to get to Heaven."

"You're break...... can't hear..... ly. Are you.... Try... "

"Arthur, can you hear me?"

"Satell.... too faint....... bad reception..... happens all the time....."

"Arthur?"

...

Winnie to Arthur.

...

Winnie to Arthur.

### # # # # # # # #

The next day, Arthur was sitting on the roof of a near-by heaven-scraper when Bertram left the Guardian Angel building for the day. Bertram's body was quite easy to distinguish from the other angels who were finishing their day in the G.A. complex. He followed Bertram at a distance ensuring that he was well behind and well above his target. Bertram settled into his aerie which was located at the base of a small mountain that had a water fall cascading into a deep pool that never got any deeper. The water in the pool never went anywhere, like into a river, or a creek, or even a brook. Bertram was high enough in the halocracy now to have the authority to order any kind of physical setting for his aerie that he wanted. This month, he was into mountains and water falls. Last month, he was living on a flat prairie.

Arthur settled into the mountain's forest. He had a clear view of the entrance to Bertram's aerie. To kill time, he made a call. "Arthur to Winnie."

"Arthur?"

"Winnie, are you there?"

"Arthur, I've had a breakthrough..."

"Winnie, are you there?"

"Arthur, I need access to Heaven's halocratic network so ..."

"Winnie? ... Winnie? ... Winnie? ... Are you there?"

"Arthur, I can hear you."

"Winnie? I hope you can hear me. We're having transmission difficulties. You're breaking up all the time. I'll check back with you tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the next day."

### # # # # # # # #

A teenage boy was also in a mountain forest but not in Heaven. He was shooting trees. You might observe that when you're in the middle of a dense forest, it would be quite easy to shoot a tree. You'd be right about that. Point a rifle in a horizontal direction. Pull the trigger. Congratulations, you just shot a tree.

This young man was lying on the floor of the forest hidden in a shallow indention. A sort of foxhole, if you like. He was using the lip of the foxhole to rest the barrel of his sniper rifle complete with scope. His target? Not the trunk of a tree. Not the branch of a tree. Not the branch on a branch of a tree. He was shooting at a twig on a branch of a branch on said tree. And he was hitting it. He had even named the twig that was sitting on the branch of the branch on the tree. The twig's name was Maddy.

You might be tempted to ask a question about that. _How would anybody know that the twig's name was Maddy?_ The answer was because the boy talked to the twig scants seconds before he shot it, as in:

"Hi-ya, Maddy. Surprise!" Bang.

"Hey, Maddy, how's it going? Remember that shoulder separation. I do." Bang.

"Maddy, why are you running? You can't outrun a bullet." Bang.

Turns out that a lot of twigs in that forest were named Maddy. They all ended up on the forest floor that day.

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# Chapter 11

Paula was in a PUS car hurtling through the rock tunnels underneath the cities in the American southwest. The San Antonio station had come and gone. She recognized that they had stopped at Monterey in Mexico but had been distracted by a demon who was watching her far too closely for her comfort. He had the body of a wart hog, which at the best of times is not a body that attracts praise for its beauty. This upright wart hog was not only ugly but it was covered with warts that were oozing pus. Paula had seen enough demonic bodies to realize that some bodies were meant to be powerful and dangerous. That's how they could exist in comparative safety underground. Other bodies were meant to be repellent. They were able to exist because other demons would be reluctant to touch them. This wart hog clearly belonged in the second category. Perhaps he used his putrid appearance as a form of aggression. She knew that she could never afford to lose a stare-down contest with him. But staring at oozing pus? Paula had watched her husband kill unborn babies. She could do anything.

So intensely was she staring at the demonic wart hog that she failed to notice that there hadn't been any stops recently to pick up more passengers. The PUS car ground to a halt and all of the interior lights began to flash red. She looked around to find the station name on the car's message board. They had stopped at the station for SinSin-atti. Paula didn't know much about Mexican geography, but she was sure that was no SinSin-atti in Mexico. She was in Hell. That SinSin thing was a pretty good clue.

The car had been stuffed with reeking bodies that were all heading for the exits. "I know a place where we can mate," the wart hog whispered as he walked by her.

Paula stifled an urge to vomit and waited for him (her?) to disappear. That meant she was the last demon in the car. She couldn't stay here; she'd be too noticeable if a security guard came by. The flashing red lights must be indicating that this was the end of the line. She could simply step outside and wait on the platform for the next car, which would probably be going back to Mexico on a return run.

_[Narrator Interlude: Lights in Hell cannot be white. That colour is banned because it's too heavenish. Hell's lights are always red. If you are wondering if that means that their traffic lights are always flashing red, you are missing the main feature of Hell. You won't see any traffic signals because there is no order. Hell is always uncontrolled chaos. It's strictly maim or be maimed. But, I digress.]_

Paula stepped out onto the platform that was quickly emptying. She found the PUS schedule display board and realized why she was now the only demon waiting. There'd be no more cars back to Colorado for several hours. At least not on this route. She had to get off this platform before she attracted dangerous attention.

The exit was clearly marked if you actually could see anything in the murk of Hell's atmosphere. She followed the signs and ended up at the rear of a queue of demons and devils waiting to pass through a security control point of some kind. All police and security forces no matter how human and non-human they might be can be recognized by the way they stand, the way their eyes scan the queue of would be visitors, and the weaponry that is hanging on their body somewhere. The same was true in Hell. Paula didn't recognize what the weapons were, but they definitely were weapons.

The security forces were wearing a black and red uniform of some kind over a devilian body that featured some very thick horns on top of some very big, muscular, and scaled bodies. They were guarding six transparent chambers of some kind. Paula watched as her wart hog would-be-friend entered one of the extra large chambers that were obviously intended for the super-sized demons. The entrance door to that chamber whisked shut meaning that it was now a closed cell. No exit was possible. The security guard assigned to that chamber watched as yellow lights flashed on a small panel at the top of the cubicle. When the lights flashed green, the exit door swung open and the wart hog exited, walked down a tunnel, turned to the right, and disappeared. The whole screening process took about fifteen seconds. When she reached the front of her queue, she had no choice but to go into the security box.

Nothing happened inside that security box that she was aware of. The exit door swung open and she left. There was only one exit route, so she followed that, went up a number of levels on a large escalator and found herself in front of an open aperture that revealed bustles of Hellish pedestrians flowing back and forth in front of it. She exited, stepped back against the wall of the PUS building, and looked around. No identification signs of any kind were on the walls of that tunnel. In order to return to Earth, she'd need to find the entrance to the PUS station and find her way to the right platform that would take her back to Colorado. If she wandered too far away from her present location, she might never find the PUS station again. Of course, she could always ask for help and then find herself surrounded by security. Any resident of SinSin-atti would not need to ask directions.

Fortunately, Hell's tunnels followed a grid pattern. Paula carefully edged her way down the first tunnel and turned right. At the first opportunity, she turned right again. The entrance to the PUS station was located on the opposite side of the building from where she had exited. Paula entered, found lots of signs, and reached the banks of escalators to the various tunnel levels. The platform for Colorado was well marked and she made the trip back home without incident.

_[Narrator: Each afterlife has its own way of securing its borders. Heaven, as you know, uses purity gates. The science behind how Heaven can detect purity is a well-guarded secret. Hell's security system is not a secret at all. It has an olfactory base, meaning that it uses the sense of smell as its detection device. Visitors enter a closed container where they have to wait long enough for computer sensors to scan the visitor's bodily odours. If a trace of cinnamon is found, the air in that security box will be removed and the intruder will suffocate and die. As my readers know, the cinnamon trace cannot be removed from an angel's body; nor can the odour be over-ridden by another odour. Paula was able to enter Hell because she was not an angel. She was a ghost who wasn't good enough at her job yet to gain entry to Heaven. She carried no whiff of cinnamon with her.]_

The morning after her safe return from her exploration of Hell's PUS system, Paula reached a conclusion. She did so while sunbathing in her garden. If she could have taken a six hour shower, she would have preferred that. Sunbathing would have to provide the purification to pull the stink of Hell out of her skin and her memories.

It was time to report in. "Lillian, I know how to raise my HEE. I can get into Hell through their PUS cars. Is that what you wanted me to discover?"

Lillian didn't respond.

"Lillian?"

Joe-Joe showed up in his elderly mortal body and sat down in her garden. "You and I will be working together from now on. Did you know that SinSin-atti is the capitol city of Hell?" he asked as he opened an electronic three-dimensional map of that same city on top of her garden soil. "You'll need to become familiar with this technology," he said. "This map of Hell is not as complete as we would like."

### # # # # # # # #

Mortal and immortals make trillions of decisions daily. A mortal's future can be altered by a single decision that some other mortal or immortal might make. That decision could make that mortal's life better or worse even in situations where the decision maker has no personal relationship with the mortal at all.

For example, take Paula's decision to ride the PUS rails and, through that, gain entry into Hell. She recognized the value that her ability to infiltrate herself into Hell would have. Her recent conversation with Joe-Joe will completely alter the future for others she might have influenced along with her own future, of course.

In a different life path, Paula might have pursued her awareness that Goodefellow had a family. She might have focused on the fact that Goodefellow's son was planning to kill a mortal girl by sniping her from the shadows. With research, she might have recognized that the Wilizy were the pests that were bothering Goodefellow and it was Billy who had infiltrated them. That could have led her to learning that Billy had stolen a Wilizy copter and left it outside Casper Wyoming when he had fled from the cadet camp. That would have led her to explore Casper where she would have found Billy shooting twigs off trees in the forest and verbally indicating that he would be killing some girl named Maddy. Paula already knew Maddy from her time with the Wilizy. That line of that particular life path would have put her in a position where she could prevent Maddy's murder. With her recent experience inside Hell, that line of Paula's future was now closed. Maddy's future life was now in jeopardy. Her long unescorted training runs through the Montana wilderness will give Billy the opportunity to shoot at something other than twigs.

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# Chapter 12

Winnie had built up a lot of steam that was waiting to be released. She still hadn't been able to reach Arthur. Mind you, Winnie had a negative impression of Heaven, so her aggravation wasn't focused so much on Arthur as it was focused on Heaven.

Winnie was in those teenage years where if a teenage girl wanted to do something now, she was going to do it now, no matter what a parent said. In this case, the parent was the monolithic entity known as Heaven, which should be more appropriately identified as _the Halocracy_. You can't fight the halocracy. If their personal communication link wasn't working properly, well the halocracy was the fault of that. The halocracy didn't care that Winnie wanted to get up to Heaven and start tracking a demon's helicopter so that she could find a demon's family so that she could break a huge story. Winnie was impatient at the best of times. Now, this was far from being the best of times.

Arthur was in a similar emotional state. Mind you, not being a teenager, his pent up steam could not be so easily explained. It was caused partly by Lillian who wasn't doing anything about Bertram. On top of that, she had forced him to team up with Winnie who was a very aggravating person to work with. At this point in his afterlife, Arthur found it very difficult to tolerate obstacles that were in his way and were preventing him from .... well, from doing what he wanted to do. In that regard at least, that frustration could be attributed to teenage hormones, of which Arthur had none because he was an angel and they don't have emotions brought on by reproductive-based hormones. But his reaction was similar to mortal teenagers. Lillian was pushing him hard to team up with Winnie. Well, he could push back equally as hard. Hence, his use of a fake communications break down to avoid working with Winnie. This was definitely not angelic behaviour.

That was yesterday. This was now. Afterlife for Arthur was becoming much more aggravating this heavenly evening. He was hiding on Bertram's mountainside, which was downright stressful because Bertram had set the climate controls for his mountainous retreat to rain. It was a drizzle, but rain nonetheless. Angelic bodies do not do well in rain.

Moreover, Bertram was sitting on his nice dry porch having a chat with a black-feathered co-op student. Arthur had burrowed his way deep into the underbrush to provide some camouflage for his stake out. The worst possible clothes that a human detective could wear while staking out the home of a suspect would be white clothes. These would be easily observed by anybody with two functioning eyes. Angels have white feathers. They don't have another suit of brown feathers that they can don for surveillance purposes. In such a situation where a flash of white would draw the suspect's attention, all an angel could do was rub mud all over his body. Arthur had already done that. Mud on wet feathers. Yuck. Even Arthur's tolerance for messy attire had been reached.

And let's add a little more frustration. Arthur couldn't hear what Bertram and the co-op were discussing not only because of the distance, but also because of the noise that the waterfall generated. Even without being able to listen in, he knew that the optics of this meeting were all wrong. A middle manager angel like Bertram would never be socializing with a black-feathered co-op. This was unheard of. Not only was Bertram socializing with the closest thing to a demon in Heaven, but also he was socializing in a location where he couldn't be observed. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You may now imagine listening to the _something bad is going to happen_ music that always precedes something bad happening.

And, why don't we add a little more frustration? Arthur couldn't move closer because he'd be seen. He couldn't take a picture of the evening meeting because angels don't have pinky ring computers. He couldn't plant a listening device because Heaven doesn't have any. He couldn't pull up a halocratic record of the secret meeting because Heaven doesn't surveil its own citizens. Why would they? Angels never do anything bad. In short, for Arthur to find out what Bertram was doing, he needed to be invisible so that he could sneak up to the porch, listen to the conversation, and record it so that he could go to Heavenly authorities with his suspicions.

Arthur needed to be like Winnie.

And that was the most frustrating part of the evening. He couldn't be like Winnie, which meant that he would have to team up with her.

"Arthur to Winnie."

"Arthur?"

"Winnie, go for a walk where you can't be seen. I'm coming down to Earth."

### # # # # # # # #

Montana has about a zillion trillion places where somebody could walk and not be seen. Winnie flew for a couple of minutes eastward and landed on a flat piece of prairie that was exactly like every other flat piece of prairie within eye shot. She was looking forward to getting up to Heaven. She had even left a message to her mom that she'd be gone for a couple of days and would let her know if she'd be away longer.

Yolanda had made a deal with Winnie. She didn't need to know what Winnie was doing when she was off on her own. She DID need to know when Winnie was leaving and when she likely would be back. If Winnie did not give her that level of courtesy, Yolanda would track her down by the GPS location finder in her sling and have a short personal visit with her. Winnie would have to forget about having a private personal life for a month. This would be equivalent to a mom saying, _Go to your room, young lady, and don't come out until I say so._

Winnie watched as an eagle set down in front of her.

"Hey," Arthur said after he had reincorporated into his Arthurian mortal body.

"Finally," Winnie exasperated. "That communication link sucks."

"Sorry about that. I've sent in a repair memo. They may fix it; they may not. I don't have any control over that."

...

"YOU'RE LYING TO ME!"

"What? I am not."

"YOU ARE. I CAN SEE IT ALL OVER YOUR FACE. YOU FAKED THOSE COMMUNICATION PROBLEMS."

"I..."

_[Narrator: While Lillian and Joe-Joe had talked together about Winnie's ability to read minds and the possibility that she might or might not be able to do that in an afterlife body, they had not told Arthur about Winnie's ability to read minds that were in mortal bodies.]_

"I CAN READ MINDS, YOU... YOU... YOU... !"

"I..."

"ANGELS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO LIE!"

"I..."

"WHY DID YOU FAKE THOSE CALLS? YOU KNEW I HAD A BREAK THROUGH. WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME?"

_[Let's take a pause in the action here. In a classic cartoon rendition of this scene, Winnie would be standing rigid; she'd have her hands on her hips; white steam would be bursting from her ears. She'd be close enough to Arthur that he'd get scalded if the cartoonist decided to send the steam out of her nose. Winnie actually was a little taller than Arthur now, so the threat of scalding would be there, although I have never seen a cartoon figure with steam coming out of its nose. For his part, Arthur's cartoon body would be flushed red all over. But that's cartoon world. This was real life. Winnie was steaming, no question. But inexplicably for Winnie, so was Arthur. What followed was the classic angry face stare down.]_

...

_The stare down is still in place.]_

...

_[Yup, still going on.]_

...

_[It would come down to who was the most stubborn. I'd put your money on Winnie if I were you.]_

...

"I was too busy to help you," Arthur broke.

"You're still lying and you know you are. You could have taken a few minutes. All I wanted was access to your halocratic archives."

"Why?"

_[Winnie gave the background of what she was trying to do and how she'd be able to do it if she could track that copter. You already know this.]_

"That doesn't sound all that important to me."

"Was what you were doing more important?"

"Yeah. Way more."

"Finally, you're telling the truth. Just because you think your stuff was more important than mine doesn't make it so. What was so important that you couldn't take a few minutes to help me?"

_[Arthur told her about Bertram and all the suspicions he had. You already know this.]_

"OK, I agree. Your operation is more important than mine."

"It is extremely important."

"That doesn't excuse all the lying and pretending. Why didn't you tell me that you couldn't help me right then? I might have been able to help you."

...

"You're thinking about lying, aren't you? Now, you're trying to hide your thoughts."

"Yuh."

"We're supposed to be a team. Lillian set it up."

"I didn't want to be a team with you. Lillian forced me."

_[Now it was Winnie's turn to be quiet.]_

"I was going to lie about this because I knew it would hurt your feelings."

"It did. Why are you being so mean to me?"

"Because you're impossible to work with."

...

_[Winnie wasn't normally caught in a situation where she didn't know what to say. This wasn't one of those situations. She had lots of things ready to say. She was trying to control herself so that she wouldn't say them.]_

"You have to be in charge."

_[Still controlling herself.]_

"You won't listen to me when I say something that you don't want to hear."

"Like what?"

"Outside Goodefellow's office, I told you that your science would not work. I told you that it would be dangerous and you had to leave the building."

"I'm not afraid of danger."

_[In truth, Winnie was not afraid of operational dangers. But Yolanda was. Yolanda has been trying to shield Winnie from danger for all of her life. Now, when somebody told Winnie that she couldn't do something because it was too dangerous, she'd go ahead and do it out of spite. This was especially the case now that she was infected by teenageritis. Arthur had said the magic words in Goodefellow's office: 'It's too dangerous for you.']_

"Did your science fail or not?"

"It failed."

"But even then, you stayed."

"It all worked out in the end. I wasn't hurt."

"But you weren't the only person in danger when you stayed in an afterlife battle zone."

"I didn't get in your way."

"That's not the point. You were told to leave. You didn't. Any by exposing yourself to unnecessary danger, you exposed me to serious consequences."

...

"Had you been killed, I would have been brought in front of a heavenly tribunal to explain why I had allowed that to happen. If the tribunal found that I have been negligent in any way, I could have been kicked out of Heaven. Other than sending me to Hell, it's the most severe punishment that Heaven has. Angels must not expose their mortal agents to danger in an afterlife battle zone. Having you in a battle zone isn't only dangerous to you, but your refusal to leave made it dangerous for me. Lillian had a talk with me about that. I did not enjoy that conversation. I thought you had left the floor. What was I supposed to do? Physically throw you out of the building?"

"I didn't know."

"That shouldn't have made any difference. I told you to leave. This is why humans are not supposed to know about Heaven and why they're not supposed to be involved in heavenly operations. I don't know why Lillian hasn't scrubbed your memories, but she hasn't. She wants us to be a team, but I don't want to be banned from Heaven because you won't listen to instructions. If we're going to be a team, you have to do what I say."

_[This is not a message that Winnie had heard before. In the Wilizy family, she got her own way because she was the youngest, the tiniest, the cutest, and she had almost died. She had never done anything wrong like this before. She wasn't quite sure what to do.]_

_..._

"I'm sorry that I got you in trouble. So, I'll do what you say. You know things that I don't know. But, can I make suggestions? May I argue if you're wrong? Or do you just want a mindless assistant? Will my job be to bring you your cheesies when you're hungry? I don't want to be on a team like that. I'll stay on Earth instead."

_[You didn't think that Winnie would lie down and play dead, did you? We'll skip the details of their conversation from this point on. Here's what they finally agreed to do: To satisfy Lillian's insistence that they work together, Arthur agreed to ask Lillian to give Winnie a means to travel to and from Heaven without going through the halocracy so that she could search halocratic records on Goodefellow's family. She would be able to operate in Heaven with her Wilizy invisibility powers intact whenever she needed to. The invisibility was necessary so that nobody would know that a mortal was in Heaven. Lillian agreed to that.]_

_[Winnie agreed that Arthur's surveillance of Bertram was much more important than Goodefellow's family. She would focus her energies on helping Arthur on what would have to be a secret operation since Lillian was not doing anything about Bertram. She would help him with the planning. Arthur had the power to veto her plans, not because he was male, but because he knew things that she didn't. But he had to listen to her]._

### # # # # # # # #

Mortal and immortals make trillions of decisions daily. A mortal's future can be altered by a single decision that some other mortal or immortal might make. That decision could make that mortal's life better or worse even in situations where the decision maker has no personal relationship with the mortal at all.

For example, take Winnie's decision to focus all of her energy on Arthur's operation in Heaven. In a different life path, Winnie would have tracked Goodefellow back to his house in Casper, Wyoming. She would have recognized Billy. She would have set up drones to record everything that Billy and his mother did. She would have seen and heard Billy shooting twigs off trees in the forest and verbally indicating that he would be killing Maddy. She would have alerted the Wilizy to the threat that Billy posed.

With her recent decision to focus all of her time and attention on Bertram and on Heaven, that line of Winnie's future was now closed. Maddy's future life was now in serious jeopardy. Her long unescorted runs through the Montana wilderness will give Billy the opportunity to shoot at something other than twigs. Paula wasn't able to save her and neither was Winnie now.

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# Chapter 13

By mid-August, Billy was tired of killing twigs. He turned to shooting at targets in wide-open spaces. After he had his rifle sighted in, there wasn't much challenge to it. Mind you, Maddy would be running, but if he set up his trap so that she was running directly at him, he could minimize the chances of missing her. Besides, he didn't have to kill her on the first shot. He'd have as many shots at her as the number of bullets that he had available. Think about it. Wide open spaces. Maddy running by herself. Nobody to help. In his mind, this was a recipe for Billy's successful revenge. He didn't realize that Maddy ran with a lethal sling attached to her body, so we can excuse him for being overly confident. He didn't know that the first shot would have to be accurate, especially now that Maddy could shoot while performing gymnastics in the sky.

His mom bugged him a bit about getting a job with a local hunter, but Billy put her off with excuses like: _The season is almost over; they already have the people they want; I want to rest up before I go back to school._

Speaking of school, Billy had been out of school most of the last year. As far as the local school was concerned, he was being home schooled and they didn't expect him back. As far as Billy was concerned, he had no desire to go back to school. His mom stopped bugging him shortly after Billy had stopped shooting twigs. It was a waste of time. He figured that Maddy would still be running every day, and he knew where that running would occur. But he had no way of travelling to Montana. What was he supposed to do? Walk there? Maddy was a distant memory and becoming more distant every day, especially since he had found a new use for his scope.

Kids his age in Casper spent their afternoons and evenings at the outdoor pool at Washington Park. He had seen them there one afternoon after his shooting practice. Billy had gone to school with all these kids. He noticed one exciting development that had happened in the last year while he was away. The girls were wearing bikinis and they had grown up enough to fill them.

Billy took his scope, without the rifle, into the nearby woods and began scrutinizing the bikinis for tightness of fit and signs of wear that might predict a bikini fall out. He learned an interesting thing about girls during his days in the trees. Girls would adjust the fit of their bikini without any regard to whether people could see them doing that or not. They'd make a little pull on the bottom to cover some bare skin that had decided to peek out. Or they'd make a little adjustment of the top for comfort's sake. They did this automatically, without thinking. Billy was there virtually beside them; ready with an imaginary offer to help them to slide themselves back into their bikini.

For my female readers, I'm sure Billy has just topped out on your creepy scale. And rightfully so. But as far as Billy was concerned, if girls wanted to adjust their underwear (essentially) in public, then he was part of the territory that they had to accept. Some guys would be watching them from somewhere around the pool. How was that any different than Billy using a highly magnified scope from a hidden location? I'm not saying that Billy's rationalization was right; I'm saying that it seemed right to Billy.

Billy's father hadn't done much to tell Billy about the birds and the bees. The year that the school covered the topic was the year that Billy was being toughened up. Not to be prejudicial against demons, but would you really want one of them to tell your kids about sex? What kind of message do you think they'd get?

In Billy's case, his father had given him practical advice about making sexual contact. "Put your hands onto their heads and they'll do anything you tell them to do." That had worked well for Goodefellow's only foray into sex in a mortal city. Why wouldn't it be equally successful for his demonic son?

Billy was knowledgeable enough about the female gender to realize that it wouldn't be as straightforward as that. He figured that putting his mitts onto a girl's face would be reasonably easy. _Some hair is sticking out of your swim cap. Let me help you_. But, instructing her to have sex with him right then and there would not work.

In his sexually charged mind, here's what would work. When she was under the control of his hands, he would tell her to meet him at a distant location where she'd have a reason to wear a bathing suit, but nobody else would be there. He'd give her the necessary g _uess what we're going to do now_ instructions as part getting that old swimming cap properly affixed. He had just the place in mind. The Edness K. Wilkins State Park had a swimming hole, but it was too far out of town for most kids. It would be deserted.

If this seems creepily evil to you, may I remind you that Billy was the son of a demon.

Only one thing was preventing Billy from swimming exuberantly in the Edness K. Wilkins State Part swimming hole. He didn't actually know how to talk with girls. Right now, he was hiding in the woods watching them through a magnifying scope. That's not exactly a good form of communication as far as the female gender is concerned. If you want to learn how to talk with girls, the following conversational opening comment is not recommended. _When I was spying on you from the woods with my highly magnified telescopic scope, I saw a little sunburn on your right butt cheek. You might want to put some sunscreen on that. I can help you with that if you want._

Billy did learn something from his experience with Maddy. He had tried to place his hands on her face subtly. He had even tried to be her friend. In his mind, that hadn't worked because he had gone too slowly. After all, mental domination could occur within seconds of a targeted girl receiving a demonic hands on experience. At least that what his father had intimated. Why try and be their friend? All Billy had to do now was find the courage to come down out of the trees.

I remind you again, .... etcetera, etcetera.

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# Chapter 14

Billy's courage reached tree-leaving levels the next day. He simply sauntered into the pool area where a few kids nodded at him. Billy had not been terrifically popular with his classmates, most of whom considered him as a person they would keep at arm's length. Girls wanted an even further distance. So, nobody noticed when Billy slid into the pool and started swimming around.

Billy had noticed that a certain _fall out_ would occur when girls dove into the water off the diving board. They'd hit the water, come back up, tread water for a bit while they adjusted their bathing suit, swim to the stairs, and climb out. Billy figured that the impact of the water was such that some parts of a girl's bathing suit could be dislodged. After some surreptitious spying, he determined that some pleasurable viewing would be more likely with girls who weren't encumbered by shoulder straps on their bikini tops.

Billy also observed where the impact into the water from the diving board always happened and he determined where a studious person such as himself should position himself for the best view. He figured that not only would he have a great view, but he'd also have an opportunity to place his hands on the diver's head. Billy was obviously good at multi-tasking.

I remind you, etcetera.

The best girl of all, in that her purple top was quite loose, was Holly who was climbing the ladder to the diving board now. Billy swam over to the presumed impact area and timed his dive to the bottom of the pool perfectly. Although lots of air bubbles were floating around in the water, he was rising at the same time and rate as the purple top girl, or in this case, the purple topless girl. Holly was getting herself purpled again while Billy was gazing. Then, because Billy had to time his head grab so that he'd have a good grip on her head immediately she emerged, he started to move his hands into position. He hadn't built in the time delay that would be caused by having to move his arms through water. He did get a marvelously good grip. But not on Holly's head. In automatic response to the sensation of rounded flesh in his palms, his male hands tightened even further. They were operating independently of his brain at this time.

Holly's attention had been focused entirely on restoring her top to its usual position. She hadn't seen Billy at all. Her response to his grab was automatic. She surfaced, took a deep breath and screeched at the top of her lungs that were now full of air. That screech lasted a long time. Everybody on the pool deck turned their heads towards the pool. By this time, Billy's head had surfaced too. He noticed the screech seeing as how he was only several centimeters from her open mouth. Understandably, that distracted him. Holly grabbed his hair with one hand and pummeled her closed right fist into his left eye socket. They both bobbed back underwater and when they surfaced again, she clocked him again in the other eye with her other fist. Apparently, Holly was ambi-fistrous.

This part of Wyoming was ranching country. Girls who grow up on ranches get a lot of practice lifting hay bales. Hay bales are heavy and strong arm muscles are the natural consequence. Guess whose parents owned a ranch.

Billy sank into the depths of the pool while Holly swam briskly to the pool ladder and climbed out. As a point of interest, I can tell you that she had not managed to put her top back in place in the interval between hitting the water and hitting the pervert. Holly emerged dripping wet and cursing in very colourful terms. Ranchers curse. Mostly at cows. But not this time. The word _Billy_ was mentioned multiple times within those curses. All eyes swiveled back to the emerging nymph who was immediately surrounded by a crowd of girls all carrying towels. In the distraction that followed, Billy surfaced, slipped out of the pool, scampered up the hillside, and hid in the woods until it was safe to go home.

### # # # # # # # #

"I've finished mapping SinSin-atti," Paula announced and handed Joe-Joe the storage device.

"Good. ToxiCity and AudaCity are smaller. Enjoy."

### # # # # # # # #

"We can put your aerie wherever you want it," Arthur offered Winnie. "But it will have to be in a remote area so that people don't stumble on you by accident. Would you like mountain scenery? Prairies?"

"So, I'll have an angel body while I'm here?"

"Yes, of course. But, it will be a full sized body."

"I can't eat food? I stand in the sun instead?"

"We can't give you food to eat. Heaven has no grocery stores, no refrigerators, no stoves, no pots or pans..."

"I get it. What about power?"

"Your angelic body will have the same strength as any other angel."

"I meant electrical power so that I can collect the data from my drones and read them."

"That will be difficult if you're in a remote area where you'll need to be in order to avoid detection. I suppose you could use my aerie during the day. It's powered from the downtown Heaven grid."

"Your aerie." _[Winnie didn't have fond memories of Arthur's pigsty, I mean aerie.]_ "And then I fly in my angel body back to my own aerie when I'm done?"

"That would work."

_Not if I'm watching my drones all night long._ "My sling will still work, right?"

"Probably. But definitely not your weapons."

"So I could fly to my aerie in my human body in my invisible sling?"

"Yes, for as long as you have a charge on your sling's power."

"Huh."

...

"And my aerie would have a bathroom?"

"Well, no. We could set you up with an aerie in the woods."

"Not in a million years. Shower?"

"You could live near some waterfalls."

"Bath?"

"I can give you a lake."

"A hot lake?"

"Glacial lake. You really should be thinking about being in an angelic body while you're here. Heaven is not set up for mortals. We could make your aerie look exactly like your home you live in now."

"With a bathroom and kitchen?"

"Yes, but they wouldn't work."

"How hard would it be to make a copy of my home?"

"Not hard."

"Can you make a copy of the clothes in my bedroom?"

"Sure."

"I'll be back in a couple of days. I have an idea."

### # # # # # # # #

Billy's mom was in the kitchen preparing supper when Billy came home. "How was your day? ... What happened to your eyes?"

"Uhm,"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Billy. You know that I can always tell when you're trying to lie."

Indeed, she could.

"Well, I saw some girls..."

And out came the full story. Not the part about Maddy. But the part about watching the girls from the hillside, the dive into the pool, and everything that followed came blurting out.

"Do you know where this girl lives?"

"Yuh, it was Holly. She's out of town a bit."

"Get your coat and come with me. You know what you have to do now."

Billy did know. His conscience was right there, telling him. _You need to apologize big time._

### # # # # # # # #

"We can do that, Winnie. It's a good idea. We should have done this a long time ago."

"Thanks, William. How long will it take you?"

"A couple of days. TG has to create the computer board first and then install it. While he's doing that, I'll tweak the drones. How many will you need?"

"I don't know. Call it one hundred? Can you give me that many?"

"Sure. How did you manage to think about this?"

"You know me. I get these ideas."

"Secret mission?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret."

### # # # # # # # #

Billy made the apology, but Holly wasn't happy with it and by now the story of what Billy did, and how Holly had clocked him twice to his eyes was circulating quickly. Social media and all that. Holly was a hero for every teenager in town, including the boys. The fact that Billy apologized with his mom there glaring at him didn't help much. The kids always thought that Billy was _a little different_. I remind you, etcetera.

On the way home, Billy had another uncomfortable experience.

"Why were you trying to touch her head?"

"Dad said that..."

"What have I told you? What have I always told you? What have I tried to burn into your head?"

"Don't believe anything that Dad tells me."

"Right. The man is... The man was a compulsive liar. He was a terrible, terrible person. You can't make a girl feel affection for you by touching her head with your hands."

"But Dad said that I had the power to control anybody with my brain. All I needed to do was put my hands on her face and think what I wanted her to do."

"He told you that when he took you away from home?"

"Yuh."

"And you believed him?"

"You weren't there to remind me, Mom. He said that you didn't want to come on holiday with us."

"What have I always said?"

"Don't believe?"

"There was no holiday. He stole you from me so that I couldn't raise you the way you had to be raised. He was an evil man."

Billy's mom stopped walking and faced her son.

"Put your hands on my face, Billy."

Billy did.

"Tell me to jump up and down."

"Jump up and down."

"See? Nothing."

"I'm supposed to think it."

"Think of something that you want me to do. And it can't be something like breathing or blinking."

...

"Well?"

"I tried to convince you to raise your right hand."

"It didn't work. He was an evil man, Billy. Remember, you have a conscience living inside of you. When you were little, I made sure that you had a conscious. Trust that little voice inside of you."

_[Sadly for Goodefellow, it turns out the demonic skills like forcing mortals to do what a demon wants them to do via a simple grope to the face are not genetically transferrable from demon to half-demonic son.]_

### # # # # # # # #

A couple of days later in Heaven, Winnie and Arthur were talking.

"You want us to make a copy of the Wilizy/America which is a sailing ship?"

"Yes. An exact copy. You said you could do this."

"We can, but what will you do with a sailing ship?"

"I'll live in it and fly it around Heaven invisibly. You said the invisibility would still work."

"It will, but the closest water ..."

"I'm going to fly it in the air, Arthur. I'll position it so that I can read all of the drones that I plan to put around Bertram. TG created a computer board that will allow me to see all of the drone feeds at once if I want to. The board will store the feeds for two weeks."

"Power?"

"I'll have pinky ring power all around an invisible ship that has a stove, a refrigerator, a completely stocked pantry, a real bed, a full set of my clothes and a bathroom that works. The pinky rings will be recharged by the sun."

"Do you know how to sail it?"

"I do now. How long will the copy take?"

"I don't know. I'll have to ask our scientists."

"While they're making the copy, we should talk about your plan for Bertram."

...

"You do have a plan, right Arthur?"

"Sort of. I wasn't expecting ..."

"Don't worry. I have an idea. But first, tell me everything you know about Bertram. You said something about a desk?"

### # # # # # # # #

A couple of days later in Casper, Wyoming. Billy was in the living room, looking at the stack of textbooks that his mom had obtained from the local school. Billy had insisted that he would not be going back to that school. His mom had insisted on home schooling instead. Mom was in Billy's bedroom looking to see if the room was big enough to squeeze in a desk.

A knock on the front door interrupted both of their contemplations. Both of them moved towards the front door.

"Ma'am, is this the Goode residence?"

"Yes."

"I'm with the Loveland Copter Transport Company, I've been instructed to drop a copter off here."

"Copter?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I have some paperwork to complete. Would you mind if I came in?"

"Who sent you here?"

"Some business guy named Cuter. Strange looking man. Wore a yellow bow tie. He said he worked with your husband."

"I never met him, but come in."

...

"I have to check that I have the right place. This copter is being delivered to Billy Goode, is that your son?"

"Yes. Billy B. Goode actually."

_[Remember how Goodefellow liked names that conveyed hidden humorous meanings that only he would enjoy? He had done that with his son's name.]_

"When he turns eighteen, he will become the full owner of this copter. For now, you will be the co-owner, Ma'am. Is this your name on this form?"

"Yes."

"Nice name."

"Thank you. I wish I could carry my name."

"Beg pardon?"

"I said that I wish I could carry my name. My name is Melody. I wish I could carry a melody."

"Yes, Ma'am. I need two signatures and that'll be it. I have a partner waiting in Casper to copter me back to Loveland. The keys are in the copter and the trip here showed that it was fully safe and operational. You'll need to take care of things like Wyoming registration, insurance and so on."

"I have a copter?"

"We have a copter," Melody corrected. "The man who gave it to us used to work with your father."

"Come on outside with me. Why don't you both check it out? I can give you instructions if you need any."

"I know how to copter," Billy's mom said.

"That's a hot looking copter," Billy said.

"Almost solid black with red streaks along the fuselage. It is noticeable, I'll give you that," his mom agreed.

### # # # # # # # #

Mortal and immortals make trillions of decisions daily. A mortal's future can be altered by a single decision that some other mortal or immortal might make. That decision could make that mortal's life better or worse even in situations where the decision maker has no personal relationship with the mortal at all.

For example, take the person who decided to give a copter to Billie. With the flexibility he would now have from his home schooling, Billy would have the means, the opportunity, and the motive to fly to Montana. Billy's life path would be changed. Maddy's future life was now in very perilous jeopardy. Her long unescorted runs through the Montana wilderness will give Billy the opportunity to put his twig shooting skills to work. He could even assassinate her from the sky.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 15

By the end of August, Jock, William, Lucas and Mac had analyzed the data that TG had pulled out of NORAD's computers. Jock asked for all of the Wilizy to meet in the Wilizy/Europe that was floating above Denver. He gave them plenty of notice about the meeting and scheduled it for the long Labour Day weekend so that there'd be no time conflicts. Almost every Wilizy was in the hold of the ship.

Jock started with the reason for the meeting, which he described in an unemotional, non-shocking manner. Essentially, these nuclear weapons existed but few people knew about them other than the Wilizy. They were starting to degrade, which made them a health risk to the people living near the silos. The Wilizy family would locate them and neutralize them without letting anybody know what they were doing. Described in those terms, it was just another operation, but one that would require a lot of time and a lot of Wilizy.

Mac described how Major Vincent, formerly of NORAD, had given them the necessary leads that allowed them to identify the scope of the challenge they would face. "Russia and China have the most missile silos in terms of sheer numbers. But both of these were very big countries. North Korea had the highest concentration of silos. Many other countries also have some silos."

"How many silos are there, Mac?" Theo asked.

"We're still vague on the numbers. We only know the foreign silos that the US had targeted for destruction. We don't how many silos existed without NORAD's knowledge and we don't know how many silos are hidden in the former United States."

"How many nuclear war heads per silo?" Theo pursued.

"We don't know."

"Do you have any evidence of other nukes degrading?" Mathias asked.

"We don't know."

"Folks," Jock started. "This is the very beginning of our operation. The first thing that we have to do is get a handle on how big this challenge will be. We're going to form groups that will investigate a silo. William will equip each group with sensors that can detect escaping radiation, but you have to take your measurements close to ground level. We will also need information on the physical locations of the silos. To begin with, we want to know what type of terrain they are located in and how secluded they are. We'll need pictures of the locations and any other information you can provide that will allow us to mount an operation to neutralize the weapons in the silo you are investigating."

"William, are you planning to remove the missiles?" Mathias asked.

"I don't see how we could do that secretly. We're going to look for other ways. We're also going to look at whether or not we can automate the neutralization. We're talking about a huge numbers of missiles. Did you want to be involved in the planning?"

"Yes," Mathias responded.

"Anybody else want in on the planning? Wolf and TG are already part of the team."

"Our next step..." Jock started.

"I would like to be involved in the planning."

Everybody looked around. A blonde twin stood up and waved to catch their eye. "Lylah," she identified herself.

"Thank you, Lylah. Our next step now is for you to form groups," Jock continued. "We didn't want to put you into groups ourselves. We were considering groups of four, but that's only a suggestion. Your groups do not need to have special expertise. All we're doing is battle ground surveillance and threat assessments."

"What Dad means is we want you to look at your site and tell us everything about it that might affect the operation. Closeness to population centers; any physical challenges, that sort of thing. Take lots of pictures from the sky and from ground level."

"We'll convert the Wilizy/Europe to a huge electronic data center," TG added. "Send your reports to me."

"We have a physical list of silos that need investigating in the hold," Lucas explained. "Put your names next to the silo you'll be looking at first. When you have finished your investigation, pick another silo."

"Time line?" Doc asked.

Mac responded. "We don't have a good feel for how long each individual silo investigation will take. We also aren't sure how much time each of us can dedicate to the research. We have families, we have studies, and we have jobs. Do the best you can, but be thorough. Mistakes in missing some important feature of the silo's surrounding area could lead to fatalities. Remember, be cautious. These are foreign hostile countries that we're entering. Let's meet back here in two months and we'll re-evaluate."

"How old do you have to be to join a team?" a muffled voice said.

"Maddy, is that you?"

"Liset is here too," the muffled voice said.

"I'll take Liset with me," Yollie offered.

"Maddy, you're with me," Mac added. "Come out of hiding now, girls. It must be getting warm under that tarp."

"Has anybody seen Winnie?" Yolanda asked.

Apparently, nobody had.

### # # # # # # # #

The Labour Day weekend is not celebrated in Heaven, so daily and monthly schedules continued regardless of the long hours that some angels spent on their job. Not a single one of them was getting paid which should be ample evidence of the need for labour unions in Heaven, but sadly no such organizations would be created. At least not in the time interval of this book.

On that Monday, September 4, 2090, member of Bertram's cadre met as normal in the big auditorium. Arthur was in his usual seat at the back. Winnie was in the meeting too, although not physically. She was watching the progress of the meeting via one of the drones she had placed on the weekend. One drone was facing the stage; the other was facing the audience. She had also placed drones all around Bertram's aerie and its property, including near the falls. She couldn't get inside the aerie, so any conversations that Bertram might have there with Rufus would be unheard. She would have shots of Bertram and Rufus entering and leaving the aerie however. She also set up drones around the dormitory where Rufus had his aerie.

Arthur had taken her to the Guardian Angel complex on the weekend and had shown her the floor where he and Bertram worked. They spent most of their time admiring Bertram's shiny desk and the small office with a window view that he enjoyed. Winnie browsed through what drawers she could open in Bertram's desk, counted the binders of his Heavenly Protocols that were in a large open cupboard, and even picked up the small trophy he had won for having the shiniest desk in Heaven ten years running.

Winnie placed a number of drones around his office and Rufus' cubicle. Then they shifted their attention to the glassed in office that had been Lillian's but was now vacant.

"Is this where he wants to be?" she asked. "I'll have to involve William or perhaps Wolf."

"It is. I have friends in Heaven who could do what you want."

"Best not to involve them. From what you've said, I doubt that you can trust anybody."

Now, as she watched the live feed of a statistics class, Winnie was close to being sound asleep and it wasn't even noon yet. This should not be surprising for my mortal readers. Statistics is not a subject that would interest somebody like Winnie, or any other living creature with more than four working brain cells.

_[I admit that I am biased against the study of statistics and their use. As part of my studies leading to a Ph.D. in the History of Environmental Recovery at the University of Calgary, I had to take several statistics courses. I would not wish that experience on anybody. While I have not confirmed this personally, I have heard that Hell has several torture pits where souls have to sit through lectures on statistics as their punishment. I am not making this up.]_

It was 3:00 when Bertram decided to take a big step. He knew that he'd be giving his staff a glimpse into his personal afterlife, but revealing that there was more to their Big Boss than his dynamic leadership was worth the risk. He offered them a tour of his halocratic memorabilia museum.

Personal museums are a common form of heavenly recreation. Since some angels collect very large items, most museums are housed in alternative dimensions where display space is not restricted. Many angels spend a lot of their free time on their hobbies and a variety of museum tours are offered every weekend. Nobody else, however, had thought a collection of halocratic memo templates would be interesting.

As Bertram's students winged their way leisurely from B.C. exhibition halls to A.D. exhibition halls, they were astounded to see so many distinct kinds of memos. How many fonts could there be, how many unique ways of presenting "From the Heavenly Desk of XXX" could there be, and how many different forms of paper could there be? Bertram told them that he still had many gaps in his collection.

The angels gradually drifted away, each pausing to thank Bertram for the opportunity to see his collection. Arthur hung on as long as he could but eventually ran out of displays that he could feign interest in. After he left, Bertram and Rufus remained in the museum. They didn't leave for another hour.

Neither Winnie nor Arthur had known about Bertram's museum and, as such, Winnie had had no chance to bug it. She wouldn't get a chance after the meeting either. Bertram locked it up tight when he left.

### # # # # # # # #

It was the end of the first week of school. Melody came home from work and checked the small iron nail that she had stuck into the grass to mark the location of the copter's left wheel. The wheel wasn't where it had been that morning.

Billy was lounging on the sofa in the front room, engrossed in some kind of computer game. On her way to her bedroom to change clothes, Melody examined the textbooks and exercise books on Billy's new desk in his bedroom. They were undisturbed. She knew that because she had placed some hairs in strategic locations.

As she started preparing supper, she called out. "How did the studies go today?"

"Good," he mumbled from the living room.

"What did you learn?"

"Not much."

"Come into the kitchen and tell me how it went. Is that new desk that I bought so that you could do your home schooling working out for you?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said from the doorway.

"I spent a lot of money on that desk, you know. I don't have much money to spend."

"Yeah, Mom. It's a good desk."

Billy watched as his mom began cutting and peeling.

That was something else to work on, but for now, Melody just peeled.

"I was thinking that I'd go on a little trip. Test out the copter. Do a little hunting. Camp out in the wild."

"Where?"

"Montana would be nice."

"Did you fly the copter out today?"

"No."

Melody always knew when he was lying because she expected it and planned for it. In that regard, he was like his father. His lying genes? Billy received his share of those genes. Her hard work genes? Those genes, he didn't get.

"Why don't you sit down at the table and we'll have a little talk. Supper can wait."

Supper did wait, particularly for Billy.

That Montana trip? It was indefinitely postponed until she saw progress in his studies. By progress, she meant exercises done in the exercise books and understanding of the textbooks as proven by him answering her questions. To remove temptation, she took the copter keys. "I'll store these safely at work," she said.

As for supper, Melody enjoyed a nice stir-fry. Billy was left to cook his own meal. He'd do that again for the next three days. "Don't lie to me," she said. "I'm like your conscience. I always know when you're lying."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 16

Winnie checked in at home on Saturday, September 9. As per her standing agreement with Yolanda, she told her that she'd be gone the next week, but she would see her next Saturday.

"What have you been doing, Winnie? We had a meeting of the family to talk about the nuclear weapons. You were the only one not there."

"I had other commitments, Mom."

"We've broken into groups now. I didn't know which group to sign you up for. Marie, Nary, and Theo have room for one more."

"I'll be busy for a while, Mom. I'll join in when I can. Those three will be fine without me."

_Winnie doesn't want to be part of an operation?_ "Each group is free to choose what country to research. You like to travel. Marie didn't want to chose until you could have a say."

"I don't know when I'll be able to join them. Tell them to go ahead without me."

_Winnie doesn't want to travel? She always likes to travel in an operation._

"I'm taking off now, Mom."

_She's hiding something._

### # # # # # # # #

Bertram's statistics class of Monday September 11 was unremarkable, at least from Winnie's perspective. On Tuesday, he told Rufus that he had received management's approval to conduct a pilot test of a new way to deploy angelic resources. He would notify the cadre next meeting. Winnie didn't take much notice. Deploying angelic resources. Yawn. She did tell Arthur about it though and he asked her if she knew anything more than that.

"I don't have access to those kinds of internal files," she replied. "I only know that he has permission and he acted happy about it. Rufus clapped him on his shoulders and left."

"We'll find out soon enough, I guess. Anything that makes Bertram happy is not going to be good news for the cadre."

"Are you still entering data all day long?"

"Yes. I don't want to attract attention to myself. Did anything else happen today?"

"I don't know how unusual this. Bertram told Rufus that he had decided to pursue a copy of a rare letterhead for his museum. The only copies were in Hell so Bertram said that he had filled out the necessary paperwork and had submitted it to his supervisor. He was working at his desk and singing quietly, so I guess I saw him doing that."

"Singing what?"

"Sounded like, _Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's off to work I go._ Does that mean anything to you? "

"It's a song from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves"

"What's that?"

"Something that is well before your time."

"But obviously not before yours."

"What about his application to Hell?"

"We should pay attention to that."

### # # # # # # # #

Contrary to what humans might expect, Hell and Heaven had a good working relationship. Although the two organizations had opposing business plans, methodologies, and ethics, they nevertheless marketed their services to the same set of consumers and their operatives crossed paths daily. Therefore, it made business sense for them to co-operate when such reciprocity did not compromise critical programs and goals. The basic philosophy each organization had gradually adopted is this: _We have to afterlive with these _____s for an eternity; we may as well try to get along with them as best we can._

Since both sides were unwilling to jeopardize their hard-earned working relationships, they had set up large 'cracies to keep communications between the two afterworlds in the hands of the professionals. Two respective Communications Directorates handled all inter-eternity contacts. Bertram had to send his letterhead request to Heaven's Communications Directorate. There, a communicangel would redraft the question (if necessary) and pass it up to a superior. That halocrat would redraft the request (if necessary) and pass it up to his superior. Only if three consecutive halocrats approved the document would it be sent. Hell used the same process.

Direct Heaven-Hell contact was possible only through these Directorates. There were no direct, instantaneous telecommunication channels of any sort other than the heavily secured piebald telephone for the CEOs. Heaven had wanted white but Hell had wanted black. A black & white piebald phone had seemed like a good compromise at the time.

### # # # # # # # #

"I've finished mapping ToxiCity and AudaCity," Paula announced and handed Joe-Joe two storage devices. "Do you want me to map AtroCity and ScarCity now?"

"No. You can do those another time. I need you in Surrey BC. Observe what the demons are doing there. Find the shoulder demon bars and watch what they do in their off hours. Go into the PUS stations and make counts of the traffic going to Hell and coming back."

"Why am I doing this?"

"Know your enemy."

### # # # # # # # #

By Thursday, Winnie was gnashing her teeth in frustration. She had nothing to do except sit and watch Bertram who was not working. He was sitting back in his chair with his feet on his desk. She was also feeling guilty about not being part of the family's operation. Some thinking/guilting led to this messaging.

"Winnie to Lillian."

"You only have to call my name, Winnie."

"What are the halocratic coordinates for the Wilizy/Europe?"

"The what?"

"Give me a break. It's the Wilizy sailing ship that is anchored above Denver."

"What makes you believe we have a halocratic camera in that ship?"

"Shall we play _Truth Ray on_?"

"The sixth digit in the series of digits identifying halocratic cameras represents altitude. You can play with that."

"Were you already watching me when I called?"

"Of course I was. But, before you get a swollen head, I'm watching a lot of things right now."

"I thought no halocratic cameras were allowed in Heaven."

"You're sitting in a duplicate of a sailing ship that was flying over Zurich last week. Somebody must have forgotten to remove the camera when the copy was moved to Heaven. Why do you want the coordinates?"

"It's a secret. Mind read me if you can."

"I wish you'd get busy and do something, Winnie. It's really boring watching you do nothing all day long."

### # # # # # # # #

It's Friday at about suppertime in Casper. Melody was preparing a meal for two people; Billy was peeling. Some progress had been made on one front at least. They ate in silence and cleaned up together afterwards in silence.

"Let's talk in the living room, Billy."

...

"You didn't do any school work today."

"No. I didn't do any yesterday either."

"Why not?"

"I hate it."

"You could try attending Casper High."

"I'd hate that too."

"Sometimes, we have to do something that we hate because we know that it will be good for us later."

"School won't be good for me ever."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate it and I'm not going to do it."

"Why not?"

"School is useless. It won't help me."

"How do you know that?"

"You went to school and look at the job you have now. How did your schooling help you become a hotel maid, Mom?"

Melody stood up and left the room.

### # # # # # # # #

Winnie found the halocratic record easily enough of the Wilizy meeting that she had missed. She already knew most of what Jock and Mac had said. The plans for silo research were new. One of Mac's comments did catch her attention though. _We don't know how many silos are hidden in the former United States._

The Wilizy were collecting data on missile silos in foreign countries. Nobody was researching the silos that were in the former United States.

### # # # # # # # #

"I went to the Thomas Jefferson High School in Denver. That box I put in front of you has my yearbooks. I was in a lot of activities. Look through all the pictures. You'll see me a lot. My major was in Business Studies. I was named the top student in my grade and was to chosen to speak to the graduating class. I had already been accepted to the University of Colorado's business school by the time I actually graduated. Some of my high school projects and my report cards are in that box. My life changed when I went to my graduation party."

"I was not a drinker, but somehow I became drunk. I woke up in a bed with your father beside me. Nine months later, you were born. I had never seen your father before. I don't remember him being at the party, but he obviously was. I never agreed to have sex with him. What he did is called rape. It's a felony."

"By the time you were born, my family wasn't talking to me, nor were my friends. Nobody believed me about the rape. Your father had a job in Denver, but he had been promoted and would be working in Loveland. We were going to move, but not to Loveland. He told me that I would raise you in Casper. He would be home on the weekends."

"He told me that he would pay for the house and for your living expenses. I would have to raise any other money I needed for my own expenses. I was not allowed to leave Casper for any reason. If I didn't agree to his demands, he would take you away where I'd never find you. But he'd know where I was and he would make my life a living Hell. I believed him. He could be very nasty when he was angry. I threatened to divorce him and ask the courts for custody, but I knew that would never stop him from taking you away. We lived like that for twelve years. I never let him touch me again. I agreed to his other demands in order to protect you. He didn't know anything about raising kids. He would have made you into some kind of sociopath. I believe that he was one himself."

"Jobs were scarce when we moved to Casper. The only job that I could get quickly was as a hotel room maid. I took a job that had nothing to do with what I had wanted for myself because the work was guaranteed. Tourists were always coming into town in the winter for the skiing and in the summers for the hiking and outdoor activities. The hotel management has been very good to me and allow me to take food home from what's left over after their lunch sittings when I've been running short of money."

"We lived from one pay cheque to the next pay cheque when you were young. If I had become sick, we would have gone without food. Now that you're older and you eat more and your clothes are more expensive, I'm going to have trouble making ends meet. I'm planning to take a weekend job if you stay in school. I think we can survive."

"I have learned to enjoy my work as a maid because I meet some very nice people. As you'll see from the pictures in that box, I didn't look like this back then. I had lots of boys hanging around me. I have lived in fear that your father would take you away from me and I'd never see you again. That fear got me eating. When he did take you away last year, I gave up hope. I probably gained thirty pounds while you were away. I didn't care if I died or not. I have been eating myself to death for the last thirteen years."

"If you insist on quitting school, I will not try to stop you. It's your life. What you do with it will be up to you. But while you're living in my house, you will pay your share of the costs if you're working. I won't let you be a deadbeat. I won't let you become a sociopath either."

"Make a decision this weekend if you're going to quit your schooling or not. If you do quit school, you should start looking for work. I'll start looking for work that you can do as well."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 17

Saturday, September 16.

"Hi mom. I'm off to talk with Jock about the nuclear operation. I'll be back."

"Hello Winnie. Goodbye Winnie."

...

"Winnie, what you're asking about covers a long period of world history starting in 1945. You're best to use a search term like _Nuclear Proliferation_ if you want to know more. You'll find lots of books and articles that talk about the global political pressures that kept countries developing more nuclear weapons, more lethal weapons, and harder to stop missiles. The strategic thinking behind all of this was that if a country had nuclear weapons, that would deter other countries from attacking them."

"I get that."

"Countries stored their missile in silos from which they could be fired within seconds of confirmation that an enemy missile was on the way. Throughout the decades, various countries and politicians managed to reduce the threat of a nuclear holocaust, but others would increase the threat for their own political or military reasons. For much of 1950 - 2030 period, the world was one mistake away from being a charred toxic wasteland. People got used to it. That was part of life back then."

"Countries must have tried to find ways to hide their missile silos."

"Yes, that's definitely true, Winnie. But satellite spying made it very difficult for any country to construct silos without an enemy spotting the signs of construction from space."

"They must have camouflaged it. Made it look like they were building something else?"

"Yes, I believe that happened. But _The Troubles_ came and all the countries in the world forgot about nuclear weapons and concentrated on trying to exist as climate change destroyed everything."

"So, how would I find where the US hid its missile silos? We don't have any Wilizy looking for them, do we?"

"No, we don't. Choosing silo sites and building them would have been a military decision. In the United States, the top military brass worked inside a building called _The Pentagon_. Somewhere in that building, there's a file with all of the silo locations listed. You're not thinking of TiTr'g and trying to sneak into the Pentagon, are you?"

"No, General. Definitely not."

"The security in that building and on that kind of information would have been extremely high. Any mistake in your TiTr'g could be catastrophic to the world's future."

"Relax, General. I'm only curious about what happened back then. I was wondering why there were so many silos. Now I know. I'm not planning to do any time travel. I'd need a partner first and nobody would agree I'm sure. I wouldn't agree myself."

"Good. Are you going to join a research group?"

"I have other commitments right now, General. Perhaps later."

### # # # # # # # #

"Hi Mom."

"Hi Winnie. How's Jock?" _[Translation: What did you and Jock talk about?]_

"He's looking very fit, Mom. You know the general." _[Translation: I know what you're asking but I don't feel like telling you.]_

"That's good." _[Translation: You know that's not what I'm asking.]_

"Is it alright if I stay for supper?" _[Translation: Are you angry with me?]_

"I'll check. I believe we have enough." _[Translation, not yet but...]_

Later...

"Gotta go, Mom. Thanks for supper." _[Translation: Let me outta here.]_

"Come any time. I enjoy our chats." _[Translation: You should come tomorrow so that I can interrogate you with mechanical devices seeing as how you didn't give me any hints at all about what you've been doing recently when I asked probing questions.]_

"Thanks, Mom. I'll see myself out." _[Translation: I can get to the door faster than you can.]_

"Winnie?" _[Translation: Not so fast, young lady. I'm not through with you yet.]_

"Yes, Mom?" _[Translation: I have my hand on the doorknob. You can't stop me now.]_

"When you're gone for a week at a time, why aren't you leaving home with a suitcase full of clothes? Don't you change your clothes when you're away?" _[Translation: Yes, I can.]_

"Of course I do, Mom. I have clothes where I'm staying." _[Translation: I'm turning the knob now.]_

"Where..."

"See you, Mom."

### # # # # # # # #

Early Monday afternoon in the Assembly Plaza Building, downtown Heaven.

Unable to wait to the end of the day, Bertram decided to cut the staff meeting short. "I have great news to report!" He put his prepared notes on the podium in front of him and began droning.

"As you know, we have been collecting daily information from our shoulder-angels on their interactions with their humans. I have calculated that we spend about 10,000 credits on human interventions in our target zone daily. Humans lucky enough to have people praying for them receive large numbers of credits; needy others receive nothing. Not that it makes any difference. Prayer data reveal that our interventions have NO impact on human happiness. This is a colossal wastage of valuable credits!"

"That got me to thinking: if I had 10,000 credits daily, could I design a program that could be implemented in a frugal manner but which would reach all the humans in our zone fairly and effectively? I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that the proposal I submitted to management has been approved. WE'RE FINALLY GOING TO BE ABLE TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE ON EARTH!"

Bertram paused for the whopation that this important announcement warranted. Disappointed, he droned on into the constipated silence.

"From now on, each of our humans will receive centrally administered subliminal thought messages. This new program gives us three major benefits: credit allocations will now be fair; travel costs will be eliminated since angels will have no reason to travel to Earth to administer the resources; and, with every human receiving the same treatment, program administration costs will be reduced dramatically. This will free up enormous amounts of angelic time to spend on other, more important, duties."

Bertram had pontificated the key words - _other duties._ That meant reassignments. The audience waited for the data analysis axe to fall.

"As you all know, I'm a firm believer in doing sufficient research to determine if programs are working or not. In the future, that's how we'll concentrate our limited angelic resources. CENTRAL ADMINISTRATION PLUS PROGRAM EVALUATION EQUALS SUCCESS!"

Again, no applause followed the fighting slogan on which he had labored for hours. Bertram pressed on.

"As of today, our shoulder angels will be designated as QuAs, or _Questionnaire Angels_ , and you will use communication devices to sample human happiness in a random, but systematic fashion each day. Our data analysis angels will analyze those data and send summaries to me. This new equitable distribution of heavenly resources will be known as Centrally Administered Democratic Allocation of Valuable Eternal Resources. This will be a real team effort. TOGETHER WE CAN DO IT!"

CADAVER's fighting slogan toppled out of the torpedo tubes and sped through the waters like a battered tuba.

The reaction to this wondrous news was a plaintive cry. "Do you mean that we'll be conducting spam surveys?"

"Yes," Bertram confirmed the statement so excitedly that his voice went up a whole tone. "As employees of _Paradise Market Researc_ h, you'll be collecting data from humans during their supper hours - the most likely time to catch them at home and receptive to such inquiries."

"What kind of intervention are you planning on using? Guilt Zaps?" This inquiry came from an angel who was familiar with Bertram's favorite form of human therapy.

"Well, with human behavior what it is, certainly they can all benefit from being made to feel guilty on a regular basis. Nevertheless, I thought that this should be a departmental decision. Therefore, we'll have a vote. We can send _guilt zaps_ as you call them for ten credits each, or we can transmit encouragement messages for five credits each. Let's have a discussion, after all, THIS IS YOUR PROGRAM!"

After a desultory couple of comments, a voice from the front called _Vote_ and a decision was made to send humans subliminal thought messages to _Be good_ as frequently as credits allowed.

The announcements complete, Bertram made surreptitious eye contact with Rufus who stepped forward from his stool by the overhead projector. "Let's have a big round of applause for Bertram and his new program!"

Angels are polite creatures, even at the worst of times. The handclaps were perfunctory and brief. As Bertram started to disentangle himself from the podium, some one called out, "Bertram, how will these messages be distributed?"

Discouraged. Even a little angry, Bertram pouted his answer. "I'm assigning Arthur to send out the weekly subliminal messages to every human in our zone."

"But how can one angel do all of that?"

"Oh, Arthur's very efficient as we all know. After all, he had the time to set up that immature prank with the red and brown colours several weeks ago. Obviously, he's not being kept busy enough."

With that, Bertram swirled out of the theater, an energized whirlwind of halocratic program development on its way to whisk away inefficiency and ineptitude wherever it might appear, dust bunny Rufus in his wake.

### # # # # # # # #

"That pan is way too hot. You're going to burn that meat."

Billy had graduated from peeling to cooking the dinner, or for today, burning the dinner. He was also whining. "Why do I have to learn to cook meals?"

"So that you don't have to eat cold beans out of a can for the rest of your life." Then his mom added, "Watch the potatoes. The water is going to boil over."

...

"You get to clean the stove top after supper. I won't."

Billy's approach to cooking was to put everything on high so that he wouldn't have to be a cook for so long. This cooking philosophy is akin to incinerating your food. Have you noticed that moms who have to eat the food their offspring cook make a lot of sacrifices?

"I suck at this," Billy admitted.

"Because you don't know how to do it yet. Learning things takes time."

"Yeah, you keep on saying."

"You know how long to boil an egg now. You also know what will happen if you try to carry a recently boiled egg in your fingers to the table. See, you're learning. I have a job offer for you."

"Really?"

"We'll talk after the dishes are done."

...

"What's the job?"

"Do you know Dr. Simmons?"

"The vet. Yeah."

"He's the only vet in town and sometimes he has so much business that he has to work into the evening which is hard in the winter when he doesn't have enough light to see what he's doing."

"I don't want to be a vet."

"Nobody in town would want that. Jacob believes that if he could get to his customers faster, he could handle the workload better. Everybody would be happier, including him."

"Jacob?"

"We have lunch together some times. I was telling him that you have a copter and you were looking for a job. He says that he'll pay you a good wage if you copter him back and forth to all of his customers. Right now, he uses a slow little putt-putt. He'd put all of his gear in your copter, and you'd fly him around. He'd pay you by the hour for eight hours a day guaranteed. Monday to Friday."

"What does _guaranteed_ mean?"

"You'll be paid whether he has customers that day or not."

"Getting paid for not working sounds good to me. How is that good for him?"

"He needs to know that he can rely on you to always be there for him. He's willing to pay you when he doesn't have enough work, but you can't have any other customers from Monday to Friday."

"Do I drop him off at some ranch and then come back and pick him up?"

"No. He never knows how long an appointment will last. As soon as it's over, he wants to be in the air and on the way to his next customer."

"So I sit around waiting for him?"

"Yes."

"I'll be getting paid for not working again."

"True. He only wants you Mondays to Fridays. You can have other customers on the weekend."

"Customers?"

'You would be working for Dr. Simmons as a copter-cabbie. You could work for others in the same way. You'd have to pay all your expenses for your business."

"Solar power doesn't cost anything."

"True. Are you interested?"

"In getting paid for doing nothing? You bet."

"I thought you would. Jacob will be coming over this evening at 8 pm. He'll bring a contract for you and him to sign. First, he wants to see you fly and land."

"That's easy. What's a contract?"

"A legal document that says that you have to do what you're promising to do and he has to do what he's promising to do. The amount of money he'll pay you will be in the contract. You'll have to be always on time. No sleeping in. If you don't do your job properly, he'll lose customers. If that happens, he can fire you. Be sure to read the contract closely. Ask questions if you don't understand something."

"Sure. I can wake up in the morning if I'm getting paid for not working."

"Remember, that once you have a job, you'll have to pay me for room and board."

"Do I have to cook too?"

"Only if you want to eat."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 18

One week later, on Saturday, September 23.

"Hi Mom."

"Winnie, you're here." _[Translation: Where are my interrogation pliers?]_

"I'm going to pop in on Doc and Granny. I haven't seen them for a long time. I'll be back in a couple of hours." _[Translation: Don't heat up your interrogation pliers yet.]_

...

"That's all I know about what's happening in the family. What about you?"

"I'm doing fine, Mom. Doc looked tired. Is he OK?"

"Granny is looking into getting him some energy food. So what..."

"What about Nary? Is she going to have kids soon?"

"No news on that. So, what have you..."

"And Bean and Cowboy?"

"Stook was elected to be Governor of Colorado so both of them are working at the cadet camp now. There's a brand new sheriff in Denver. So, what about..."

"How's that new cadet officer doing? The one that was at NORAD?"

"That's Major Vincent. He had the cadets doing gymnastic moves on the trampolines and shooting at the same time. Maddy is beating everybody. So, what about..."

"Is she still going for her long run every day?"

"Yes. I was wondering..."

"I've been wondering too. Do you think that Lucas and the twins will be having babies soon?"

"I try not to pry."

_Yeah, right._ "Some people like to have their privacy."

"Privacy is fine and good, but keeping family members completely in the dark about what happening in a person's life can be upsetting for them and I'm sure you..."

"Well, gotta go, Mom. I have a bit of a trip in front of me."

_How much of a trip? In what direction is your trip?_ "Winnie, I've just noticed something."

Winnie paused in her dash for the door. "What?"

"Your clothes."

"What about my clothes? They're clean."

"You're wearing blue jeans and a yellow blouse."

"These colours go together, Mom. I'm presentable."

"Wait a sec."

Yolanda disappeared down the hallway and returned carrying two hangers that happened to have blue jeans and a yellow blouse hanging from them. "You had exactly the same clothes in your bedroom as the clothes you're wearing right now. I thought they looked familiar."

"So?" _[Translation: Uh oh. All of my clothes in Heaven are copies of clothes I have at home. Gotta think.]_

"How come you're wearing what looks like the same clothes?"

"I like blue jeans. I like a sleeveless blouse when it's warm. Yellow is a nice colour. So, I bought another set. What's the problem with that?"

"The jeans are worn and they look like they're worn in exactly the same place."

"I bought these at a second hand store, Mom. Of course they're worn. Dad wouldn't speak to me if I had bought new clothes. Right, Dad?"

"Don't include me in this."

"They're going to be worn out in the same place because that's what happens to all jeans."

"It just seems strange. There's a grease mark..."

"I'm very late. Dad, Mom, see you next week. Thanks for supper."

...

"It's very strange, Hank. I'm sure this grease mark is identical to the one in the jeans she was wearing. Same place, same size. What do you think?"

"I'm not..."

"And she was so reluctant to talk about herself. Did you notice that?"

"I wasn't paying ..."

"I wonder what she's late for. What do you think, Hank?"

"I try not to wonder about anything that Winnie does. You should try that."

"I wonder where she bought her clothes. What do you think, Hank?"

...

"Hank?"

...

"Where are you, Hank?"

### # # # # # # # #

"Arthur, you should see this."

"What should I see? It's Sunday. Nothing is happening in Heaven that is worth looking at."

"Bertram and Rufus are in the Guardian Angel building. They looked around to see if anybody else were in the building. I heard them say that it was deserted. Now, they're sitting down in Bertram's office."

"That's very unusual," Arthur said as he burst into the hold where Winnie's spy control room was. He had been upstairs in the ship's living room testing out the hammock. In case you're interested in hammock quality in Heaven vs. hammock quality in Wilizy ships, the Wilizy hammock had passed the test.

On the screen, Rufus was sitting in Bertram's chair and clicking on the keys. Bertram was looking at the screen too, but from behind Rufus' shoulder.

"The average score of the last sample was way too high," Bertram observed. "Take another sample and calculate the average score."

...

"It's still too high. Take another sample."

This went on for some time.

...

"We won't get a better _before score_ than sample #24."

Rufus' opinion didn't count for much in Bertram's world. "Instead of sampling from the entire group, restrict your sampling to the bottom one hundred scores. Then, take a random sampling from that."

...

"Better. That's will be our _before score_ ," Bertram said with satisfaction.

"And when we want the _after score_ , shall we sample from the top one hundred scores?"

"You catch on fast."

"I have a good teacher."

"By the way, Rufus, Hell replied that it didn't have the memo I wanted."

"Good," Rufus said.

### # # # # # # # #

"What just happened?" Winnie asked.

"Looks like Bertram is setting up a statistical study."

"Which is what?"

"You would do a statistical study if you wanted to prove that chocolate ice cream tasted better after a nap than before a nap. A whole bunch of angels would be put into the study. They'd taste the chocolate ice cream before their nap and rank it on a scale of ten, for example. Then they'd nap and redo the ranking."

"I understand. So they work out an average _before score_ and compare it to the average _after score._ Whichever is higher will be the winner."

"Sort of. You wouldn't use the scores for everybody participating in the study because that might number in the thousands. So, the people doing the study would take a small sample of the people. Usually about thirty scores. But you have to select those thirty scores randomly. Using the computer to generate the score means that you can't be accused of cheating."

"But Bertram kept taking samples until he got the one he wanted. Can he do that?"

"No. He told us in his statistics classes that you can only sample once. And you have to sample from all of the scores. What he did meant that he was bound to get a low _before_ score that way. He's breaking his own rules."

"But he can claim that the computer sample was random."

"Yes. And nobody would question the legitimacy of whatever study Bertram is running. He'd simply say he selected the before and after scores randomly with a computer which is sort of true. But he's cheating."

"Angels cheat?"

"Apparently. We got him. This is all we need. Cheating on a heavenly statistical study will get him into a lot of trouble."

"Who will you tell? Lillian?"

"No. Not Lillian. She didn't believe that Bertram was doing anything wrong when he brought the Flying Force back to Heaven. I'll present this tape to the Inner Circle."

"What's the Inner Circle?"

"They are the very top angels in all of Heaven. They meet in a room that has a big circular table inside."

"So, you'll tell them that a mortal teenager bugged Bertram's office here in Heaven and that's how you discovered that Bertram was breaking Heaven's rules. They won't ask any questions on how the mortal teenager entered Heaven, they won't ask how she was able to bug an office in a heavenly building when surveillance inside Heaven is prohibited, and they won't be upset about her flying around Heaven's skies in an invisible sailing ship. Have I got that right?"

"I get it. We can't use this tape."

"No, we can't. The Wilizy run into the same problem when we time travel and tape something bad that had happened. We can't use that information in a court of law because nobody would believe we can time travel. We usually find a way around it."

"Can you see a way around this?"

"No."

"Now I'm all depressed."

"Would you feel better if you were to take part in a statistical study on the quality of strawberry ice cream."

"Sure."

"That was quick."

"I didn't think that you'd offer the ice cream so easily. I was getting ready to mope and whine."

"You looked in my freezer and saw the ice cream?"

"I heard a buzzing sound coming out of the freezer. I thought it might explode. I was keeping you safe."

"Is that why you've been hanging around here all day. To eat my ice cream?"

"Partly."

"And the other part?"

"You have some hamburger and hamburger buns too."

"I have frozen French fries too. Do you know how to cook?"

"Haven't got the foggiest."

"You can have some hamburgers and fries with me if you cook them."

"Like I said, I really do not have foggiest idea how to cook."

"I guess my hamburger buns are safe."

...

"You would risk eating my cooking?"

"I will assume this risk for womankind everywhere. Why should a woman have to cook all the time?"

"Will you give me some hints?"

"Perhaps a few, but only because I hate throwing up."

### # # # # # # # #

On Monday, Winnie watched the cadre's meeting closely, wondering if Bertram would mention a statistical study, but he didn't. The rest of the week, nothing happened in front of her bugs that was worth mentioning to Arthur. She spent the whole time looking through pentagon meetings, hoping somebody would mention missile silos but nobody did. Arthur must have been very busy with his data entry, which didn't make sense because he had automated it all. Perhaps she had been too bossy making him cook like that on Sunday.

With Saturday approaching, Winnie left Heaven earlier than normal, made a side trip to Earth that took her a couple of hours at high sling speed, and then prepared herself for another visit with her mom. She kept telling herself that she wasn't really lying by avoiding questions. Still she felt a little guilty. Feeling a little bit guilty was better than telling her mom that she was working undercover in Heaven. Yolanda would hit the roof if she made such an outrageous claim.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 19

Winnie's Saturday visit with her mom didn't go all that badly. At least to begin with. Yolanda was very quiet and Hank carried most of the conversations when they had them. They played some games in the afternoon. Other than Hank having an intermittent cough that hit him just as Yolanda opened her mouth, things went well. Winnie didn't notice the timing of the cough; she was simply trying to survive the visit.

For supper, the three of them went to the cadet mess and Winnie was besieged with visits. So busy was she that there rarely was a moment where she was left alone to eat. Hank looked particularly pleased with the evening as they flew home.

"Well, gotta go. That was a great day, Mom and Dad."

"Don't forget your suitcase, Sweetie. You put it by the front door."

"Oh, that reminds me. Mom, you were wondering about the clothes I was wearing when I'm away, so I brought some home in that suitcase to show you."

"Is that a new suitcase?"

"Yes, it's entirely different from the one that I have in my bedroom." On that matter, Winnie had made sure. Different colour, different size.

Winnie unzipped the suitcase and opened up the interior for inspection.

"I like the colours of these skirts and blouses. They're kind of spring-like, but I like the feel of them and they're very easy to take care of."

Yolanda pulled out a light blue skirt and held it up. A blue blouse followed. "They fit you perfectly," she announced. Yolanda had discovered after Wolf had been born that she could measure clothes with one look. Winnie knew that measuring her clothes would be the first thing Yolanda did, so she spent some time going in and out of the clothing store's changing room. She also made sure that price tag was off when she put the clothes into her new suitcase. Her dad would have been disappointed. She had gone to a real store, a high-end woman's boutique, for the first time in her life. These things were expensive. She had kept the receipts. They'd be going back to the shop tomorrow.

Yolanda pulled out another skirt. It was light green with a shimmering of gold. "Is this a silk mix, Winnie?" She began searching the waistband for the tag.

"I'm ..."

"My goodness. It's made in South Africa. You're working in South Africa?"

Hank had been standing by the front door holding it open, but shrugged on Yolanda's observation of clothing origin, retreated into the living room, and sat down in defeat.

"Yes, I am. South Africa is very nice and I'm enjoying myself a lot. So, gotta go."

But she couldn't go without her suitcase and without all of the clothes that had to be in that suitcase when the clothes and the suitcase were returned for a full refund. Yolanda was still holding the green/gold number. The word _hostage_ comes to mind.

Yolanda held the skirt against her body. "We're almost the same size, Winnie."

"Yes, I had noticed that too. I'll take that skirt now, Mom."

"Wrinkle-free, I see. Is that because you travel a lot?"

"No, Mom. It's because I hate to iron."

"South Africa would be in its spring now. That why these clothes are so spring like."

"Yes, that's right. Like I said. Very spring like. Mom, I have to go."

Yolanda started to roll the skirt up for eventual, and I do mean eventual, deposit into the suitcase. "So, what are you doing in South Africa?"

"I'm working, Mom."

"I know that. You'd never be able to afford these clothes otherwise." The skirt hadn't been rolled properly. Yolanda shook it out and began again.

"I can afford these, Mom." _[No, I can't.]_

"You must be earning a good salary."

"Yes, I am, Mom." _[No, I'm not. I'm working for free.]_

The rolled skirt didn't meet rolling up standards. Yolanda shook it out again and began rolling more slowly so that she'd get it right this time. "So, what is your job?"

"I'm a security consultant, Mom." All the slow rolling had given Winnie time to come up with a good paying job that she'd be able to keep secret from her mom. _[Wait for it.]_

"That's a good fit for you, Winnie. So what kind of security job are you in?"

"I'm not allowed to say, Mom. I'd be breaking some very important rules." _[I told you she'd be able to keep it a secret.]_

"Of course. These are nice clothes. They're not business clothes. So, do you have an active social life where you wear these clothes?" _[Translation: Do you have a boyfriend?]_

Hank swept to the rescue. He may not be able to talk it, but he understood feminine-speak. Hank snatched the skirt out of Yolanda's hands, tossed its still imperfectly rolled body into Winnie's suitcase, bent over, zippered it, stood up, and held the suitcase out for Winnie to grab. "I believe that you were in a rush, Winnie. Thanks for coming by."

Then, with his arm around her, Hank ushered Winnie out of the house, deliberately stepped in the way of Yolanda who was attempting to follow, pivoted on his inside foot and barred the exit of the house with his butt. Hank didn't know it, but he had just executed a perfect basketball _box out_ for a rebound. That left Winnie free to dribble down the path and out of sight unchecked.

"Winnie has a boyfriend," Yolanda announced. "Those are very sexy clothes. He's bound to be older than her. I wonder how much older he is. Older boys can be more aggressive about wanting sex. I don't like to suggest this, but we might want to give her some condoms next visit. She's way too young for sex, but what if there's an accident. You can't trust older boys. What do you think, Hank?"

Hank had implemented the box out move to perfection and had followed the basketball down to the far end of the court. His team was on a fast break and he wouldn't be coming back on defense any time soon.

### # # # # # # # #

On Sunday, Paula was sunbathing at home when Joe-Joe appeared and sat down beside her. "Apparently Surrey demons take the weekends off," she explained.

"Anything else that you've noticed?"

"I'm not impressed, Joe-Joe."

"In what way?"

"BC demons are all very lazy. They spend most of their times in their bars, drinking. I don't believe that I saw any of them on a mortal shoulder. I could be wrong though."

"Other than shoulder demons, what is the most common demonic body you've seen in Surrey?"

"Impossible to say. They're all somewhat different. But the most common style of body has thick legs. Elephant and rhinoceros legs are favorites. The bodies have to be heavy and thick. Rhinoceros, hippo, bison, and water buffalo are common. The heads can be anything but nothing with horns."

"Would you fit in with the legs and body that you have now?"

Paula looked down and saw four elephant legs and a rhino body. "This would be fine. What's my head going to be?" she asked.

"Eagle with a very sharp and large beak."

"Mmph nd rst."

"Yes, you'll have trouble speaking but that's good. Nobody will engage you in conversation."

"Rdd wnet bret?"

"You need a new body because your other body is too unique to withstand much scrutiny. Surrey is too small for you to have a scorpion tail and not be noticeable."

"Ujsf whkjd dggd mdt?"

"Continue to observe how the shoulder and other demons are torturing. Follow demons around in your mortal body; wear an inconspicuous business suit."

"Tls irslg glskcbf?"

"You're learning how to conduct surveillance."

"Gndng twedst okgjs."

"I can't say that I enjoyed this side of the conversation either."

### # # # # # # # #

Monday in Heaven.

Winnie kept an eye on Bertram's month end meeting. As far as she could tell, it was only another statistical meeting. She noticed that Arthur was paying a lot of attention. From what he had told her about pre-testing and post-testing, he must really like the meetings.

On that, Winnie was 180 degrees out of whack. Arthur had indeed learned a lot about statistics and that had helped him to recognize that Bertram was up to something. But, he wasn't enjoying the classes. At least not yet. Soon, perhaps.

Whatever Big Butt was doing, it was important enough for him lie and cheat. But, Arthur had no idea what Bertram was plotting. He did know how to upset him. Winnie had latched onto that skill of his immediately and had put it into a prominent place in her plan.

### # # # # # # # #

Monday evening in Heaven:

_It's started._

_What area is affected?_

_Paula has only researched Surrey so far._

_How is she handling herself?_

_Fine. She'll watch Surrey for a while yet. It's the biggest center and gives us the best view of what's happening._

_Or not happening._

### # # # # # # # #

"What's a business license, Mom?"

It was Friday evening. Melody was relaxing on the living room recliner. By relaxing, I mean breathing deeply with her eyes closed. Billy had been in his bedroom going through some emails. Two of those emails had prompted him to come out.

"Mom?"

"Trkd dktyd d?"

_[Yes, people who just wake up often sound like they have an eagle beak for a mouth.]_

"Sorry."

"S'alright. What's up?"

"What's a business license?"

"All cities regulate businesses that operate within city boundaries. All new businesses have to apply for a license to operate. They pay an annual fee for the privilege. It's a way for the city to earn revenue, which in turn is spent on the city's infrastructure - roads, sidewalks and such. I take it you have received a form to fill out."

"Do I have to apply for a business license?"

"Yes."

"If I don't?"

"You can't run your business without one. If you do conduct business, the city will shut you down. Perhaps impound your copter. Why wouldn't you pay?"

"It will cost me more than I made in profit all this week!"

"But you only pay it once a year."

"What's accident insurance? What's comprehensive insurance? What's liability insurance? "

"All of these are part of owning a copter. If your copter has an accident of some kind, the insurance will cover most of the costs to repair your copter. Comprehensive insurance takes care of miscellaneous accidents like if a bird hits your windshield. Liability insurance is very important for you. If you are carrying a passenger and you have an accident that is your fault, your liability insurance will pay for any lawsuit that the passenger brings against you for the injuries you caused him."

"Do I have to buy all of this insurance?"

"Absolutely. If you don't, the Sheriff's Department will confiscate your copter until you buy the insurance."

"How would they know that I don't have the insurance?"

"You receive a little sticker to put on your copter after you've bought the insurance. Part of a deputy's job is to look for people who don't have copter insurance."

"This isn't fair."

"What's not fair?"

"All these expenses."

"Didn't you know about them?"

"No."

"You mean you signed the contract without finding out more about your job? I did tell you to find out more about being a copter caddie, remember?"

"But I won't have any profit this month. It's too much. I can't afford it!"

"You can usually buy the insurance one month at a time."

"Copter caddying is a very bad job to have."

"You mean you don't like getting paid for not doing any work? That is why you took the job, remember."

"But I didn't know that people were going to take all my money."

"Have you received the bill from the city's tax department yet?"

"There's more?"

"I'm surprised that you didn't know about this. I gave you a book to read on starting your own business last week. Did you not read it?"

"It was too boring."

"What did you do instead?"

"Played games on my pinky ring."

...

"I don't want to be a copter caddie any more, Mom. Will you tell Dr. Simmons?"

"No, I won't. You'll have to do that. Don't tell him when you're a long way from home."

"Why?"

"Because he'll take your copter as the penalty for breaking the contract. You'll have to walk home. You did read that part of the contract, right?"

"Can he really take my copter?"

"Definitely. You agreed to it. You signed the contract."

"I didn't know."

"Whose fault is that?"

"How long do I have to work for him?"

"You have a compulsory six month employment clause in your contract. You should read that book I gave you."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 20

It's a Saturday again. October 7 if you're interested in such things. Yolanda had watched as Hank went into the kitchen for drinks before nabbing Winnie by her elbow and steering her into Yolanda and Hank's bedroom. Yolanda peered around the corner to make sure that Hank wasn't following them and shut the door softly.

"I know you have a boyfriend," she started.

"Mom, I don't have a boyfriend."

"I know he's older than you."

Winnie knew that her mom was telepathic. She might have gotten her telepathic reading wrong. "There is an older boy in the place that I work. But we aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. He is way older than I am. He's also not the same race as I am. We don't have anything in common. I hardly talk to him at all." _All three of these are true statements. That should put an end to this._

"You know that we have no problems with you .... courting ... a person with a different skin colour."

_Now, we're courting?_ "Mom, I am fourteen years old. I am not interested in this guy as my boyfriend."

"Is that because you can read his mind and you know that all he is interested in is having sex with you?"

"He is not interested in me because he wants to have sex."

"So you admit that he is interested in you."

"No, I don't admit that. We have to work together occasionally. That's it. One time we were working together and we had a bite to eat. There's been nothing more than that."

"What did you have?"

"We had hamburgers and fries."

"Who cooked?"

"He did."

"Oh my God. Winnie, he is definitely interested in you. No man would willingly enter a kitchen if he didn't believe it would help him have sex with you."

"Mom..."

"What time did he leave?"

"I didn't notice the time."

"What were you doing that was so engrossing that you didn't notice it the time?"

"Mom, we weren't having sex."

"There are various degrees of having sex. Did he get to first base? ... Second? ..... Oh, my goodness ..."

"Mom, he didn't get out of the dugout. He wasn't even in the ballpark. We are not interested in each other. We are business associates who interact occasionally."

"Winnie, I think you should take these. Just in case."

"Condoms? You're giving me condoms?"

"Shh. Don't let your dad hear. He'll be disappointed that you're almost having sex."

"I AM NOT HAVING SEX!!!!!"

"It's OK with us if you want to have sex with a boyfriend that you really like and he really likes you. Just be safe."

### # # # # # # # #

The next day, Sunday, Winnie was in the hold of the ship checking her drones. Arthur was also in the ship doing something.

"Arthur, you should see this."

...

"What took you so long to get here?"

"I had to turn off the stove."

"Stove?"

"Is this a live feed?"

"Yes."

The drone Winnie had activated was the one in Bertram's cubicle. Rufus and Bertram were huddled together, whispering. Their body language indicated that neither one of them was going to get to first base. Winnie increased the volume.

Big Butt was speaking. "The pilot is one week old and positive results are already indicated. We should disseminate those results now."

"One week isn't enough. There's too much chance of random interference corrupting the results."

Bertram disagreed. "Any interference is neutralized by the statistical treatment."

"It's too big a change to The Plan."

"Going with one week is a minor adjustment."

Rufus still didn't agree. "The original plan was for a four week pilot. Any changes need approval. You know that."

...

When Rufus wouldn't fold, Bertram decided to use his trump card. "I want to proceed now and I make the decisions."

"I know somebody who will not see it that way."

The four-week pilot remained.

Bertram had one more thing to discuss. "Somebody has been coming into my cubicle when I'm not here."

"How do you know?"

"Things have been moved. First time, my sticky notes weren't aligned properly; then my communicator was horizontal when it's always vertical."

"Are the intrusions a threat to The Plan?"

"I don't know what they're hunting for, so it's impossible to say. I take the important documents with me whenever I leave the building."

"Do you have anything else in your cubicle that would be dangerous?"

"There's nothing in my cubicle that anybody would find unusual."

"Nothing to worry about then."

"But why the repeated intrusions into my cubicle? Until I can get into Lillian's office with walls and the lockable door, there's a risk that some busybody might foul up The Plan."

"The biggest risk we've had so far was that awkward memo you sent to request letterhead that never existed. You know my patron never liked that being a signal that we were ready."

"But Heaven didn't notice. Who would look twice at some routine bureaucratic communication? That's what my patron said."

"But my patron didn't agree. That's why I was added to The Plan. We have a better way to communicate with Hell now. I can get by the purity gates. My patron is in charge. You have to accept that, Bertram."

"But I'm in charge here in Heaven. Somebody has been in my cubicle and that's a risk. Watch my cubicle when I'm not here. I need to know who is nosing around."

### # # # # # # # #

"We know how they're communicating with Hell now."

"But we don't know what this pilot program is."

"Bertram will suspect that I've been in his cubicle. I'll have to stay in my aerie entering data from now on."

"It's my turn to mess up his cubicle anyway," Winnie said. "What was that about turning off the stove?"

"Supper was almost ready."

"Supper?"

"It was going to be a surprise."

"I am surprised. What are you burning this time?"

"Hamburger tacos along with cheese and sour cream."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"They have these things called recipes. Did you know about those?"

_Arthur's only here because he likes junk food and I have the only kitchen in Heaven. He's not here for any reason other than that. We're work colleagues. That's all we are._

### # # # # # # # #

Paula was in her mortal body, sitting in her kitchen. Joe-Joe was an elderly mortal with white hair and gnarled knuckles. He also was sitting.

"Demonic tortures are hard for me to see, Joe-Joe. I can't get into the office buildings where the most important demons are. I'm not seeing anything out in the open."

"Try the taxation offices. They are fairly public in nature and are usually demonic strongholds. How's the new body?"

"I feel like a rooster. I haven't seen anybody in Surrey with an eagle's head. Anything birdlike would remind the demons of angels, I think."

"I'll remove that from your body's memory. Try this."

...

"At least I can talk. What kind of head did you give me?"

"Gorilla."

"Not monkey?"

"Definitely gorilla."

"I have a strong urge to comb my face. Is that normal?"

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 21

On this Saturday visit, Winnie and Yolanda were going through some pictures. Yolanda had put together a montage of shots of Cape Town and was asking Winnie if this was where she worked. Over and over. Finally...

"Mom, I don't work in Cape Town. I went to Cape Town to buy the clothes. That's all." Winnie had kept the clothes she had purchased. She rather liked them and was wearing a tan and chocolate brown combo for the weekly inquisition.

"Where do you work?"

"I can't tell you, Mom. The company I'm working for tries to keep its location secret."

"Is that why your GPS tracker showed six zeroes as its location?"

"You GPS'd me? Why are you treating me like a little kid?"

"There was an earthquake near Cape Town," Hank intervened. "When she couldn't get a GPS on you, she was planning to fly there in person to check that you were alright. You knew that your mom eventually was going to GPS you. You could have warned her."

"I didn't know the company was blocking my GPS, Mom. Sorry."

"So what's your boy friend's name?"

"Mom, I don't have a boy friend."

"What's the name of the non-boyfriend associate of yours who had hamburgers and fries with you?"

Winnie conceded defeat. "His name is Tom, Mom."

"What's he look like?"

"About my height. Rusty hair. He's only a work colleague, Mom."

"What's his family like?"

"He's an orphan."

"Is he a security consultant too?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any pictures of him?"

"No. I have no reason to have a picture of somebody I barely know."

"You said he was older. How much older?"

"My name is Winnie Wiltz. I was born May 7, 2076."

"Why don't you want me to know his age? Is he really old?"

"My name is Winnie Wiltz. I was born May 7, 2076."

"Is he married, Winnie?"

"My name is Winnie Wiltz. I was born May 7, 2076."

"I know you, Winnie. I can see that you're interested in him. Why are you trying to hide that?"

"My name is Winnie Wiltz. I was born May 7, 2076. I am not interested in a person that I barely know. There is zero chance that he and I will be anything other than work colleagues. My name is Winnie Wiltz. I was born May 7, 2076. I am not interested in a person that I barely know. There is zero chance that he and I will be anything other than work colleagues. My name is Winnie Wiltz. I was born May 7, 2076. I am not interested in a person that I barely know. There is zero chance that he and I will be..."

Slam.

"Too many questions?" Yolanda asked Hank.

"Why would you think that?"

### # # # # # # # #

Monday morning, early. Bertram had called Rufus into his cubicle. Winnie was watching; Arthur would have been on his way to the weekly meeting by now.

"Somebody came into my cubicle on the weekend, removed Heavenly Protocol Volume 179, and replaced it out of order. I told you to watch my cubicle when I wasn't in it. Well, I wasn't in it on the weekend! Where were you?"

"But there's nothing to find in your cubicle. Keep your eye on the larger picture, Boss."

"It's the larger picture I'm worried about. Somebody is poking around. What if that somebody is from the Christian Soldiers? Watch the cubicle! Do nothing else!"

Winnie wouldn't bother telling Arthur about this interaction. He already knew her schedule of cubicle disruptions.

### # # # # # # # #

Arthur entered the auditorium from the lower concourse door and started to trudge up the cement stairs to his lonely seat high in the corner. Bertram was squeezed into Rufus' deserted chair next to the overhead, putting on a feather lapel microphone. Arthur stopped about a third of the way up the stairs and called out loud enough to be heard through the rustle of angels coaxing their bodies into unforgiving chairs. "Say Bertram, I was thinking about that problem you gave us last week."

"Which one?" Bertram placed a transparency on the overhead projector's glass.

"The one about the group of angels who were following the rules about keeping their desks waxed and polished, and the group that didn't follow the rules. The group that did wax their desks scored significantly higher on their performance reviews."

"Only one variable, only two groups, so you should have used a t-test." Bertram frowned and rotated the transparency 180 degrees.

"Oh no, I know that. I had a different question."

"What about? It was a simple exercise." Bertram flipped the transparency over.

"It's about the Heavenly Protocols."

Bertram looked up. If Arthur thought that he'd ambush him with an obscure question from one of the protocols, he would be sadly mistaken. "I'll entertain it."

"Well, I'm curious. Are Guardian Angels prohibited from waxing their desks on Earth?"

The room had gone silent. Briefcase snaps were left unsnapped, paper shuffling ceased, conversations were brought to a halt by shoulder taps and pointing fingers from neighbors who wanted to hear. Angels who were about to lower squeaky seats were frozen, half-bent over but unwilling to make a sound that would mask the exchange. They crouched down in response to the angels behind them who were hand signaling them - _Down, get down._

Oblivious to the rapt attention of everybody in the auditorium, Bertram frowned, but there was no indication that this was another of Arthur's bothersome antics. After pausing to examine the question for any ambushes, he ponderoustated, "No such regulations exist."

"Why, I heard of the case of a poor unfortunate human who swallowed a bottle of varnish—thinking that it was liquor."

"That's ridiculous. Nobody would..."

"Such a stupid thing to do, drinking varnish. It's fatal, you know." Arthur shook his head mournfully and dead-panned, "But he ended his life with a beautiful finish."

There was an audible gasp from the audience. Arthur's audacity was unexpected. Furthermore, it was a very bad pun.

Bertram's convex cheeks concaved and pain winced across his face as he bit his cheek. _Don't get mad._ A deep breath later. "Arthur, you must stop inflicting these... " Bertram searched for a word that he could use without uttering the three letter abomination, "...word plays on others. It's very rude and it's against Heavenly Protocol 45.2."

"What about the wax? Must guardian angels use a specific brand? What do you use? Your desk is always so shiny."

_Aha! How would he know about my shiny desk if he hadn't been in there snooping? Time to draw him out._ "Heaven does not favor any particular brand of wax over another. I have no preferences myself. It's not the wax but the time that you spend polishing that makes the difference. You see, wax won't begin to..."

"So, it's OK if we use Harvest Moon wax?"

Bertram didn't like being interrupted when he was making an important point, so he plunged right into the trap. "There's no such wax."

"Au contraire, BB. Haven't you heard their commercial?" Arthur began to croon...

_"Shine on, shine on Harvest Moon, on your desk and credenza. They ain't had no waxing since January, February, June, and Decembah."_

The foolishness and lack of respect were aggravating enough, but he was incited even further by the snorts that were erupting from the class. Bertram lost the rigid self-control he had promised to keep if Arthur goaded him again. "Stop it, stop it this instant! You are obstructing Heaven's business and such frivolity must stop! There is no reason for this kind of behavior..."

Arthur cut him off abruptly, this time with a fruity English accent, "But you do wax-on so interminably long, Bertram."

Another eruption of snorts from the audience caused Bertram to apoplexplode out of Rufus' chair, wings spread wide and poised to deliver the angelic flap'n butt offensive strike they all had learned in basic angel training. Wing feathers were going to fly! However, Arthur was way up in the audience and out of reach. "Who do you think you are, you... you..." The effect would have been more menacing if the chair hadn't stuck to Bertram's ample bottom and risen with him.

Arthur bow-legged himself down a few steps, tipped an imaginary ten-gallon hat, and slouched into a gun-fighter's posture. "Don't y'all know who I am, Bertram?"

Before Bertram could reply, Arthur drew both imaginary guns, fired them at the catatonic figure on the stage, blew smoke from the barrels, twirled them three times around his fingers, and re-holstered them. "I'm the hired pun singer." The chair that had been stuck to Bertram's rear end fell to the stage with a large clatter. The timing couldn't have been better.

Class absurded early that day.

### # # # # # # # #

Bertram couldn't muster up much sympathy from his sycophant. "He's trying to goad you, Boss."

"He talked about my desk. He knows it's shiny. That proves he's the intruder."

"Everybody knows about your desk, Boss."

"But, those brutal puns."

"He's trying to get back at you for laying all those charges against him."

"He's been snooping in my cubicle!"

"You yourself ruled him out!"

"Have any angels been hanging around my cubicle?"

"Some GAs came by after the class chattering about getting off early. A couple of them stopped and teased me for skipping class."

"But nobody went in my cubicle, right?"

"Nah Boss, I was on the job all morning."

Bertram spun on his heel and went back to the cubicle. Rufus' attitude was definitely bordering on insolence. Impertinent, that's what he was.

Bertram returned less than a minute later. "Nobody went in, right?"

"Right, Boss." Rufus condescended his head from the comic book he was reading. "Quiet as a mouse, all morning."

"Then how do you explain this?" Bertram smacked his permanent Shiny Desk Award trophy onto Rufus' desk. The varnish filling the miniscule trophy cup slopped over the edge and cascaded down the sides, coating Bertram's fingers in the process. He wiped them on Rufus' feathers.

Later that evening, Rufus made preparations to bed out in the woods surrounding Arthur's aerie. Bertram's varnished finger-in-his-chest instructions had been very specific: "Follow Arthur everywhere and don't lose sight of him."

### # # # # # # # #

"Are you sure taxation offices are demonic strongholds, Joe-Joe?"

"Usually. Why?"

"The Surrey Taxation Agency is calling tax payers into the building and giving them unexpected refunds on their last year's taxes. I saw huge line-ups. Everybody was buzzing."

"Were demons actually doling out the money?"

"No. Mortals were. But I did a fly through the executive offices on the top floor and all of the executives were definitely demonic."

"The decision to hand out refunds could have come from the provincial government."

"I guess. Sure seemed weird though."

"Next week, take the PUS cars to other cities in BC. Wander around. Focus on the shoulder demons. See if they're supervised any better than the lazy and drunk shoulder demons in Surrey. Your body now has the capacity to remember five devilian bodies. If you think it's necessary, create another body."

### # # # # # # # #

Friday night's dinner hour in a certain house in Casper City would not be a pleasant one.

"Did you pay those bills you had to pay, Billy?"

"Yeah. I don't have any money left and I have to pay insurance each month. And I haven't been able to pay you yet. When am I going to start making money?"

"How many hours did you actually work from Monday to Friday? Count only the times that you were in the air."

"Ten hours about."

"How many hours did you not work? Assume an eight hour day."

"Six hours a day. Thirty hours total."

"So you have thirty hours that you could put to use if you wanted to. Did you read that book I gave you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What's the point? I'm going to quit as soon as I can."

"And go back to school?"

"No. I hate school. The kids hate me. I already told you that."

"You could take courses at home."

"Why?"

"You need to pay me for your board."

"You said that I had to pay you when I was working. Well, I won't be working so I won't owe you anything."

"Think again. If you quit this job, you'll need to find another."

"I can get a job. I'll move some place where there aren't so many rules and use my copter to earn money."

"You're going to be a copter caddie but not here?"

...

"Billy, this is how your life will be for the next fifty or sixty years. You will always have a dead end job like a copter caddie because you won't do anything to improve yourself. You will always be scrambling to earn enough money to live. When this copter falls apart, and it will, you will have no savings that will allow you to buy a new copter. Nobody will hire you for a job because you have no skills other than being able to fly. This will be your life until you die of starvation. Perhaps you'll freeze to death because you won't have a house to keep you warm and dry."

"You're not planning to give me your house when you die?"

"I have to pay taxes on this house, Billy. As soon as you default on the taxes, the city will take the house away from you, just like they'll take your copter away from you if you don't pay business fees."

...

"You're going to die of starvation, Billy. You might last ten or fifteen years, but they will be miserable years that you will hate. The miserable life that you're living right now will continue until you die."

...

"There's an easy solution. One where you have a chance of having a decent life."

"What is it? I'm not going back to school."

"School is going to come to you."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 22

Saturday, Oct. 21.

Usually, Winnie would be visiting her parents this day, but she stayed in Heaven instead. "I have to make an intrusion into Big Butt's cubicle," she responded when Arthur asked why she was still in Heaven.

"You can do it later today if you want to visit your parents."

"That's not necessary. Is Rufus still spying on you?"

"Yeah. He's getting very wet though."

"How so?"

"It's rained in Arthurland last night. Quite heavily actually. The rain was already booked, so he won't find anything suspicious if he wonders why he is so wet."

"What are you doing?"

"Data entry. You?"

"I'll be searching for silos, I guess. This is hopeless. Are you going to come over on Sunday? I'll cook this time."

"I can't because of Rufus."

"Have you noticed that if you spell his name in reverse, it says _Sufur_?"

"Yah. I can't believe he made it into Heaven. Is our security that incompetent?"

"You should check to see if the other co-ops have those kinds of names."

"I doubt that Hell would take that much of a chance, but I'll mention it in my report to the Inner Circle."

"Are you still sure that other devils beside Bertram are in Heaven?"

"We have to assume that."

### # # # # # # # #

The moment Rufus mildewed himself into Bertram's cubicle early Monday morning, Bertram gave him a vicious tongue lashing for letting Arthur elude him. Rufus, who had been surveiling an aerie for over forty-eight hours without sleep, was too exhausted to react. "He never left his aerie, Bertram."

Bertram noticed the use of the first name but decided to let it slide. He'd have time enough to take care of Rufus later. "How do you explain the fact that there have been three more intrusions?"

"It wasn't Arthur." Rufus needed to lie down and rest for a bit.

"Where is he now?"

"On his way to your meeting."

"So, if he's not snooping in my cubicle, who is?"

"All I know is, it's not Arthur. How do you know somebody's been in the cubicle?"

"Feather molt on the carpet Friday. New thumbtack holes in the bulletin board Saturday. A feather on my desk Sunday. I've been guarding the cubicle since then."

"But nothing here is worth guarding!"

Bertram ignored him. "Get some rest. You're guarding the cubicle on the night shift. Be here at midnight tonight. Forget Arthur. It's not him. I never should have listened to you."

### # # # # # # # #

"Arthur, Rufus will be guarding the cubicle tonight. He's splitting the duty with Bertram."

"Good. Is that offer of a supper still on?"

"Sure. Come over when the statistics meeting is done."

"I need to get out of my aerie. I'm going stir crazy here."

"I know the feeling. If I ever see another tape of a pentagon meeting..."

### # # # # # # # #

"The shoulder demons in the smaller centers are even lazier than the Surrey demons, Joe-Joe. They're so drunk at times that they end up fighting each other."

"Did you go into the bars?"

"They're a little tiny, even for me, so I didn't stay long. I don't know how they'd be able to do their tortures in the daytime."

"Never underestimate a demon's capacity to drink. Let's see if demonic management is better elsewhere. Next week, go to Edmonton. Tell me what you see."

### # # # # # # # #

Tuesday evening in Casper.

"Did you understand that book on starting a business?"

"Yeah."

"Did you read it all?"

"Yeah."

"Let's find out."

"You're going to give me a test?"

"You've proven yourself to be lazy. Until you prove that you're not, I'll be testing you."

### # # # # # # # #

Two days later in Casper.

"Did you understand that book on how to expand your business?"

"It was longer and harder."

"So, did you read it or not?"

"I read it, but I don't understand how it applies to me."

"Do you agree that you can't earn enough income during the week to do anything except cover your expenses?"

"Yes."

"And, do you agree that the time that you are spending waiting in your copter is going to be spent learning about business."

"It is? I thought I only had to read two books."

"If you're going to succeed in business, you have to know more than the other business people you are competing with for customers. That means that you'll be reading way more books while you are waiting for Dr. Simmons. I have all my textbooks from high school. You'll be reading those over the next year."

"But, nobody else in Casper is in the copter business."

"But all the businesses in town are in competition for customers. If a customer spends money in a shoe store, that's money he doesn't have any longer. That might mean that he spends less for entertainment. You have to understand how businesses work in general. Not only the copter business. That understanding will help you to become successful."

"So, I'm going to expand my business into entertainment? Shoes?"

"No. You'll stay with your copter business. But you have to provide another copter service that more people besides Dr. Simmons will find useful. You have to attract more people to your copter business. You can't have only one customer."

"How do I do that?"

"Read the expanding business book again. Don't focus on copters. Focus on understanding how all businesses work. On Saturday, we're going to walk around town. Any time we see a copter, I'm going to ask you: _Why is that copter in town?_ "

### # # # # # # # #

Friday night. Rufus and Bertram were in the deserted guardian angel building. Arthur and Winnie were watching them from her command center in the ship.

"Where'd you find this chicken wire anyway?" Rufus asked. "Chicken Heaven?"

"No, I had it couriered up from Earth this afternoon. It's drooping on the right side."

"I know. This stuff is too flimsy to work with. It's snagging my feathers. You're going to owe me a new set of Class B's. What about gray ones, this time? I'm tired of black feathers."

"We'll see."

Rufus was building a chicken wire door to stop intruders from sneaking into Bertram's cubicle. Bertram was supervising from Rufus' chair in the middle of the deserted passageway. Black feathers on the carpet next to Bertram's cubicle confirmed Rufus' complaints about chicken wire being flimsy. That was precisely why Bertram had ordered it. No angel could work with chicken wire without losing feathers. If anybody tried to open his chicken wire door, there'd be feathers everywhere. That would stop them from intruding into his cubicle. At least, that was the working theory.

"Do you have enough tacks?"

"Yeah, lots. Where'd you get these?" Rufus was turning one of the extra long tacks over in his hand. They had barbed points to give them _ultra sticking power_.

"Special order. Now, do the top."

"The top?"

"The top. Put a chicken wire lid over the cubicle. What's the point of putting a chicken wire door on my cubicle if I don't install a chicken wire ceiling too? Angels can fly, Doofus. What were you thinking, anyway?"

Rufus couldn't share what he was thinking.

Half an hour later, a floppy ceiling of chicken wire sagged across the gap between Bertram's cubicle walls, their ends tacked into the divider fabric. On Bertram's instructions, Rufus had stapled one whole length of the chicken wire ceiling into the top of the bookcase to provide extra stability.

"No angel can get in now."

"How are you going to get in?"

Bertram had to ponder on that. If he unfastened the door's tacks, he'd leave marks. Then, how would he know if somebody else undid them later? "We'll make an entry hatch in the roof. Cut out a space big enough for me to land through." Bertram handed Rufus the wire cutters.

Rufus had to do the snipping by hovering in place. Bertram checked his work by elevating into the air, soaring over the chicken wire obstacles, and then dropping down through the hatch into his cubicle. There was plenty of room so long as he kept his wings closed on the descent. "That'll work." A smile of satisfaction for a plan well conceived.

"How will you get out?"

Bertram looked at him incredulously. "I'll fly out, Doofus."

"Try it."

Well, of course, he couldn't. Spreading his wings made him too wide to fit through the hole in the chicken wire ceiling. Bertram sat down in his desk chair to cogitate on this.

"Got it." Bertram shoved his desk so that it was directly under the drooping exit hole. He carefully packed all of his desktop paraphernalia onto the floor, placed his chair strategically close to the desk, and then used it to climb onto his desktop. His head and shoulders extended through the chicken wire ceiling exit, but there wasn't enough room to clear his wings.

"I need to get my entire upper body through the hole."

"Try putting the chair on the desk and standing on it."

Well, that sounded like a good idea. Bertram clambered down off the desk, using the chair as a step to get down just as he had used it to get up. He lifted the chair onto the desktop. "That'll work. I'll have my wings completely through."

"OK, climb on up and test it." Rufus wasn't buying any of this. He was mentally recording the whole scene - this would be a hoot when he told the boys about it back home.

Unfortunately, Bertram couldn't climb on top of the desk without the chair to help him. He put the chair on the ground again and used it to climb back on top of the desk. Then, kneeling, he tried to lift the chair up to the desk but didn't have the strength to do more than roll it closer to the desk.

Bertram got down off the desk, stepped back, and considered his problem. Stepping forward with conviction, he lifted the heavy chair in his arms, turned his back to the desk, and started backing up, thinking that he could scrunch onto the desktop and swivel his body and the chair onto it. Good idea if he had been human, bad idea for an angel. His inflexible wings were between his butt and the desk.

The chair was getting heavy, so Bertram stepped forward, released the chair and stepped back one more time to reconsider. Again, a solution presented itself. Again, he lifted the chair and cradled it close to his body, but before backing up, he spread his wings to their full extension. Backing up, he felt the satisfaction of the edge of the desktop pressing against his butt and managed to wriggle his way into a sitting position on it. Now all he had to do was swivel.

He couldn't swivel. His outstretched wings prevented any kind of rotational movement whatsoever. Whichever way he turned, one of them scarred the back wall before jamming into it. He had to admit defeat. Then, after wiggling his way to the edge of the desk before getting down, he leaned over too far to lower the heavy chair. Years of pushing paper had not built the kind of muscles that could hold a heavy oak chair for long. His grip gave way and the chair slammed against the floor. There was a loud snap. One of the castors on the wheels had asked for clemency.

"Don't stand there picking your teeth. Help me!"

Rufus had been using his hand to hide a wide grin. With a great force of will, he turned his face blank. "I can only do that by going in the cage with you. If I do, both of us will be stuck." Rufus could barely contain himself. "Try making the heavenly protocol binders into steps that you can climb up to the desk."

That was a good idea. Bertram lifted the chair back onto the desktop - his muscles whining in protest - and rolled the chair under the gap in the ceiling. Then, using the blue three ring binders, he created two stepping-stones that would lead up to the top of the desk. The first step was two binders high. The second was four binders high. Bertram stood back for a bit - visualizing his escape path. He went back to the shelves, extracted two more binders, and made them into a stepping-stone that he could climb from the desktop to the seat on the desk chair.

Bertram climbed the protocols to get to the desktop - the second, taller stack of binders collapsed shortly afterwards, knocking the smaller stack down in the process. Bertram then used the small step of binders in front of the chair to climb aboard the seat. He stood up and prepared himself to fly out. He was one foot short of the necessary clearance for his wings.

"Try putting binders on the chair seat." Rufus put his hand back over his mouth.

Bertram reversed course and awkwarded himself back onto the floor. His wing tips scraped down the side of a wall at one point, dislodging more papers and leaving another nasty scar mark.

The protocol steps on the floor were rebuilt and a one-foot high step of binders was placed onto the chair seat. "That should do it."

The ascent to the desktop was successful, but not without cost. A handful of resounding cracks announced that five of the six binders on the floor were battle casualties. Grasping the chair back for stability, he lifted his back foot onto the chair. As Bertram shifted his weight forward to put his second foot onto the seat of the chair, the chair shifted too - the weight falling onto the broken castor that disintegrated, throwing the chair all out of balance. Bertram climbed off breathlessly.

"Try taking all the castors off."

Well, that made sense and it could be done without having to climb back down off the desk. The job was soon done. Bertram climbed aboard the chair. The castor sleeves dug into the desktop giving the chair additional stability against sliding - something that Bertram would have to appreciate afterwards, so intent was he on stepping safely onto the chair seat.

Bertram managed to put both feet onto the desk chair. Next, he lifted one foot and planted it squarely in the middle of the binders on the chair seat. With one hand on a chair arm and the other on the chair back, he paused for a moment before making his final assault on the peak. Taking a breath, he trembled his second foot onto the pile of binders.

Bertram had forgotten that the chair was a swivel rocker.

As he put his weight forward onto the binders, the chair reacted by tilting backwards just as it had been designed to do. Bertram lost his balance and his body soared into the air like a brick building imploded by the wrecking balls under his feathers.

When he could do so without breaking his recent, self-imposed guffaw rule, ( _I mustn't guffaw about my idiot boss in front of him_ ), Rufus looked back at the spectacle in his boss' cubicle. Bertram's wings were snagged in the chicken wire behind him, and his fingers were entwined through the holes in the chicken wire in front of him. He was suspended in mid air; attached front and back by chicken wire; his body swaying slightly like a hammock in a summer breeze.

POP! The sound of a tack going AWOL reverberated through the cubicle. Then another, and another. Bertram's body started to sink reluctantly into the depths of his chicken cage, the chicken wire ceiling following his pop-eyed descent. As the orbs of his boss' setting butt sank below the horizon of the cubicle wall, Rufus watched mesmerized as the top of the bookshelf started to lean, tugged forward by the weight of Bertram's body straining against the solid staples in its top. The bookshelf reached the point of equilibrium, tottered, and toppled over. The extra weight pulled out the rest of the tacks in the cubicle fabric and everything collapsed. There was a thud and a groan. Rufus had to bend over and hug himself to stop an impending caterwaul.

After much grunting, Bertram was able to slither out from under the now empty bookshelf. Shaking off the debris of heavenly protocols that had buried him, he emerged into the hallway, towing the remains of his cubicle security system behind him. "I don't believe a ceiling entry will work," he observed needlessly. With every limping step, some part of the erstwhile chicken wire ceiling or door snagged and painfully yanked more feathers out of their roots. His remaining feathers were matted together in a splotchy sludge of perspiration, dust and blood smears from the lacerations on his face and hands.

Bertram paused in the doorway. "We'll have to use a doorway entrance, but install it in a way that only I can open. The ceiling and one side of the chicken wire door will have to be fastened securely. The other side of the door could be held shut by intricate braiding that only I'll be able to duplicate."

"Tell me again - why are you doing this?" Rufus' question interrupted Bertram's thoughts on whether he should use a left over right braiding followed by a right over left braiding, or....

"To stop people from sneaking into my cubicle. What did you think we were doing?"

"Why?"

"To stop them from snooping through important papers."

"You have no important papers in your cubicle."

"And to stop them from trashing my cubicle when they find nothing to snoop through." Bertram snapped the response with some asperity back at his co-op. Rufus bit back his own sharp rejoinder, took a few steps to Bertram's cubicle entrance and stood next to him, both of them surveying the remains of Bertram's meticulous cubicle.

Shreds of straggly gray stuffing marked the puncture holes where the chicken wire had been affixed to the exterior walls and ragged rips in the fabric plotted their painful demise. Feathers and feather fragments were everywhere. Bulletins dislodged from the interior walls were littered throughout the cubicle - as were the contents of the desktop. Every heavenly protocol binder lay broken, scarred on the floor, or on top of another binder. All were shamelessly out of numerical order. Three of the cubicle walls had gaping tears through their fabric - only the wall behind the now upended bookshelf was unmarked. That piece of furniture was sprawled on its side, most of the shelves broken away from their mountings by the collision with Bertram's body. The office chair had slid out from under Bertram's plunging body and was tipped over on its side. However, thanks to serrated edges of the castor sleeves, it had remained on top of his desk but not without first creating deep gouges in Bertram's previously glistening desktop.

"Why would anybody bother?" Rufus asked.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 23

Arthur noticed that, for the second Saturday in a row, Winnie had stayed in Heaven. This prompted him to make a suggestion to her. "I doubt anything will happen today. Big Butt will be licking his self-inflicted wounds. Rufus will not risk being around Bertram until he calms down. Why don't you go to Earth and visit your family. Things will be fine here."

"I should stick around. We weren't expecting Big Butt to go bonkers; I may need to make some changes in our plans."

"What changes would be necessary?"

"Timing changes. Moving events up or slowing them down. It will all depend on how Big Butt reacts to the chicken wire fiasco. Rufus has to be watched too."

"What are they doing now?"

"Nothing and nothing. Neither has come outside yet."

"If they do, you can watch them after the fact. Weekends in Heaven are very slow. Nobody is working, so there's not much either of them could do even if they wanted to."

"What are you doing to do?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess. Rufus is not watching me and nobody is expecting me to be entering data."

"I wouldn't mind doing nothing for a change."

"Are you sure you don't want to visit your family?"

"I'm sure."

"Would you like to go spelunking?"

"Is that crawling through caves?"

"In this case, it will be flying through caves and grottos. You'll need your angelic body."

### # # # # # # # #

As planned, Billy and his mom had spent Saturday wandering around the center of the city. Billy wrote down a description of every copter he saw that was from outside of the city. That wasn't as hard to do as you might expect. Casper had limited space for copter parking seeing as how the city had been developed back in the horse and buggy era. Streets were narrow. The city had parking lots, but they were expensive to use. Most citizens walked, cycled, or putt-putted into town. Landing spots on the streets were reserved for commercial copters that needed to land near a business.

On Sunday, Melody looked through Billy's notes and nodded. "You have enough here for you to decide what your second copter business could be. Tell me what you think after supper."

...

Sunday evening, Billy was reporting his findings. "All of the copters landing on the streets had signs on their fuselage that said they were part of a freight company. The pilots were unloading boxes and then they'd fly away."

"Where were they going?"

"Back to the city they came from, I guess. The copters were empty when the pilot was finished. They hadn't been very full when they arrived."

"According to their signs, where were they from?"

"Three were from Cheyenne, two from Fort Collins, and ten from Denver."

"What's your business opportunity then?"

"Transporting freight from other cities into Casper?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Asking. I don't see how I would make much money. There's not that much freight to bring in."

"What was the total number of packages in all the copters?"

"About twenty-five."

"Would twenty-five packages make it worthwhile for you to carry freight?"

"Perhaps. But only if those other copter companies didn't exist."

"You've almost got it. Twenty-five packages would make it worthwhile for you to transport if those copter companies didn't exist IN CASPER."

"But they do."

"But they won't if you take full advantage of where you're living."

"From living in your house?"

"You're living in Casper. That means that you have the opportunity to offer Casper citizens and businesses a freight service from Casper to Laramie, Cheyenne, Fort Collins, Loveland, Greely, Boulder and Denver. Can anybody in Casper send a package to any of those cities right now?"

"I've never heard of people doing that."

"Perhaps some businesses in Casper might want to sell their products in those cities. Ranchers and butchers for example. They can't do that right now, but they might be able to expand their own businesses if you were taking freight OUT OF Casper."

"And while I'm dropping packages off, I can pick up packages that people and businesses in those cities want to send to Casper."

"Yes. You'd have a two way freight transportation business. The other companies would have a one-way business. Would you make money if you were charging freight fees for fifty packages in a single down and back trip?"

"Definitely. Mom, this is great! What do I do now?"

"Now, you make a list. Pretend you are a potential customer in Casper. What does that customer want from your business? What is it going to take for him to dump his current freight copter company? Be sure to look at all your potential customers, not only businesses."

"OK."

"Make the same list but for customers in those seven cities. What do you have to offer to them so that they will ship things up to Casper? You have a week to show me the two lists. In the meantime, take another of my business books and start reading it. Use your weekdays to learn how to be a businessman when you're not in the air."

### # # # # # # # #

The Wilizy were meeting Sunday to plan out the next steps in their quest to remove nuclear fissionable materials from all of the world's silos. If that sounds ambitious, it was. But making the world a safer place was a worthy goal for them and it brought them all together in a family operation that all could be part of. It was a family operation with the exception of Winnie who had been unable to find any US silos. That had been part of her decision to skip this meeting. She had nothing to report except that she had been unable to find any US silos. Admitting defeat was not one of Winnie's strengths. But Yolanda's pursuit of a hypothetical boyfriend was a bigger factor in her decision to stay away.

The meeting took all day. Every group reported back on their findings. The reports were detailed and included many pictures and analyses. These reports are far too long for me to report here. Suffice it to say that the Wilizy were ready to go to the next stage.

There was limited discussion about that next phase. Some wanted to start silo operations right away, but William quickly ended that idea. "I'm not anywhere near ready to neutralize those bombs.

Jock got right to the point. "What do you need?"

"I'd like to have a nuclear bomb to examine."

That proved to be easier to do than anybody would have thought. TG still had access to NORAD's computers and the Wilizy knew where all of their missile silos were located. So, they decided to steal one of NORAD's missiles. TG turned off all the silo warning lights, the Wilizy scientists opened up the silo top, placed the missile inside a sling transport pallet, and away it went. Easy, peasy.

Deciding on where to conduct his examination was left to William. He chose to set up shop, so to speak, in the Las Vegas desert. All of the water for that area had been consumed a long time ago. Buildings still stood, but the area hadn't seen a foot print from man nor beast for decades. The science team assured the family that they would conduct their examinations a long distance away from the actual missile. The Wilizy/America (the original, not the copy) was sailed from Zurich to Las Vegas and anchored well away from the missile's location. Doc set the tone for the Wilizy thoughts about William's examinations. "If anything bad happens in Vegas, I hope it stays in Vegas."

### # # # # # # # #

"That was the most amazing experience I've ever had," Winnie said.

"The Athenian Caves and Grottos are spectacular. Was this better than the first time you ever flew?"

"That was fun. This was amazing. I couldn't believe the colours. And the further in we flew, the more they changed. Did we see all of the caves?"

"No. There are so many different turns and twists that I don't believe you could see everything in a day. Somebody has probably mapped the caves out, but I just go out and change directions at random. The colours are different depending on where the sun is."

"If you weren't using a map, how'd you get us out?"

"Always fly up. Eventually you'll find open air."

"And if you fly down?"

"I don't know if anybody has ever found a bottom. It gets hot and the light starts to disappear. The caves becomes more grotto-like."

"I'm too tired to cook."

"Me too. These hammocks between the masts are good for soaking up the sun. We'll get the energy we need that way."

"I'll program the ship to soar higher when evening comes. I'm so tired right now I can barely move."

...

"Winnie, are you awake?"

"Sort of. What time is it?"

"Midnight'ish."

"I've been thinking about how beautiful that part of Heaven was, but it's so ugly in other ways."

"Ugly? Really? Why's it ugly?"

"Prayer Angels essentially work long hours in sweatshops for no pay. Other angels do the same job over and over for decades or centuries. How is that not ugly to you?"

"I never thought of it that way."

"Because you have an interesting job that is always different. How'd you like to be a librarian checking in overdue books for the rest of eternity?"

"I wouldn't."

"How is that not a torture pit then, but with less pain?"

"I admit that there are some things about Heaven that I would change."

"OK, Arthur. Here's your chance. Pretend. A year from now, you're going to be in charge of Heaven. What would you change?"

...

"When I'm in charge of Heaven, I'm going to get rid of all the useless halocratic rules."

"But halocratic rules are what separates angels from devils. That's what I was told."

"I don't believe that. There must be a better way than the halocracy."

"So, you'd destroy the halocracy?"

"Yeah, I would. But, I'd replace it with something better. Your turn to pretend. A year from now, you're going to be in charge of Heaven. What would you do if you were in charge of Heaven?"

...

"When I'm in charge of Heaven, I'm going to let souls keep their memories of life on Earth."

"No fresh start then?"

"No. If I come to Heaven when I die, I want to see my parents again. I want to see my whole family. I don't want to be stuck afterliving with a bunch of strangers. And later, when my kids and my grandkids come to Heaven, I want to be there to greet them."

"So, you'd change Heaven so that it was like Hell in that everybody gets to keep their memories."

"Yeah, but only if they want them. Some people don't have good families."

"Are you missing your mom?"

"I don't know what's gotten into her. She's so .... determined to find out what I'm doing. I hate lying to her, but I can't tell her the truth. She's been asking me questions about everything and she won't back off."

"Like what?"

"Like who's my boyfriend?"

"You have a boyfriend?"

"No, but I had to tell her that I did to shift her attention from what I'm doing for a job. I had to lie."

"Who'd you pick? Some imaginary guy?"

"No. I picked you. But I gave you a different name."

"Bad choice."

"I know. If you were mortal, you'd be like an old geezer to me."

"So what are you going to do? It's obvious that you miss your mom."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 24

Bertram's stat class on Monday did not go particularly well. Rufus, who was on stage with him handling the transparencies, noticed that Big Boss was frequently distracted and lost the thread of his lecture several times. While the angels were working on their own, he stared at the upper corner where Arthur was busily engaged in answering a pop quiz. Bertram's mood did not improve when Rufus told him that Arthur had answered all the questions on the quiz correctly, the only one in the cadre to do so.

After class, Rufus accompanied Big Boss to his aerie, trying to settle him down. "You can't let Arthur distract you, Bertram. Don't let him get you angry. Try saying this in your mind. _Don't get angry; get even. Don't get angry, get even."_

Bertram didn't say a word. If anything, he became even angrier. Co-op students calling their bosses by their first name? Unheard of.

Rufus continued to press Bertram, unaware of his transgression. He went into _suck up_ mode. That had always worked before. "Arthur is a weird little angel. He gets no respect from the others. The angels in the cadre respect you for all of the changes you've made. I've had numerous angels tell me that. They told me that you're a way better boss than Lillian who didn't know much about being a guardian angel."

"They did?"

"Bertram, Arthur is the lone hold-out now. He doesn't receive any respect like you do. Who else has memorized all the heavenly protocols? Not Arthur. Who else has mastered the art of giving mortals the exact amount of encouragement to lead a pure life? Not Arthur."

Suck up mode continued all the way to Bertram's aerie. Obviously, Rufus had mastered the art of flying and sandal licking at the same time. But, it didn't work this time. While they were standing on Big Boss' porch, Bertram put a finger in his face and warned, "Don't you dare call me by my first name again. That will draw attention to you. You are a lowly co-op student. Act like one. If you jeopardize The Plan again, I'll see that you are suitably rewarded."

That exchange didn't go unnoticed.

_Bertram is still very upset with you, Arthur._

_Good._

### # # # # # # # #

It's the next day. Rufus was once again trying to save The Plan from spinning out of control. He was in the heaven scraper allocated to the Building Management Division. As you might expect with so many buildings in downtown Heaven, and with so many angels working within those buildings, an entire division of the halocracy would be needed to keep the buildings infrastructure humming along smoothly.

Here's the conversation that Winnie recorded.

"I'm not supposed to know you."

"My name is Rufus. I'm a co-op student and I was wondering whether the Building Management Division might have any open co-op work assignments. For when my current work term ends," he added encouragingly, and waited for the angel to catch on.

"I know who you are. Why are you here?" Again in a whisper.

Rufus replied in a similar whisper. "Pretending to be asking about a job so that I can give you an urgent message. Play along!"

"Oh... We're always looking for good workers." A louder than normal voice; projecting to an unseen audience; doing it badly.

"Take me on a tour of your plant," Rufus whispered. Then, in a normal voice, "I'd be interested in seeing what you do."

"Why don't we look around?" Stilted delivery, like reading off a stuttering teleprompter.

As they strolled around the complex, Rufus told Gus that Bertram was acting very erratically. He warned that if Bertram weren't transferred into Lillian's old office soon, everybody's cover could be jeopardized.

"I was going to do that next month."

"Why are you taking so long?"

"A three month wait is normal for an office reassignment. I didn't want to give him preferential treatment. Tell Bertram that he can move in today. I'll process the paperwork this morning. It's been on my desk for months anyway."

"You're doing a great job screwing up Heaven's halocratic gears."

"Thank you."

Obviously, Rufus wasn't averse to setting up another sandal licking opportunity for himself if Bertram flamed out.

_Arthur, an angel named Gus from Building Management Division is an undercover devil. I have the evidence on tape._

_Wouldn't that be an underfeather devil?_

_I'll ask him. What are you doing?_

_Watching your board to see what Bertram is up to. He's not doing much of anything._

_Rufus will be by later this afternoon to help him move into Lillian's office. I'm putting a drone in now and am unlocking his window. We'll be able to sneak into his office tonight after hours to set up his desk. Are you eating something?_

_Yup. French fries._

_Cook some for me, will ya?_

_Already in the oven. Get'm while they're hot_.

### # # # # # # # #

Authority! Finally, he had visible authority! Bertram exulted behind Lillian's former desk. He had corner windows!

Bertram tried the desk drawers. All worked. However, the desk was too high for the chair. He kneeled down and peered under the chair to see how the lift mechanism worked.

Rufus walked in to find Bertram's big butt grinning at him. He shook his head to destroy the visual image. "A new set of heavenly protocol binders will be here this afternoon, along with your other stuff."

"What about my old desk?"

"Full restoration will take at least a month."

That was all that Bertram cared about. He couldn't get the chair to work so he told Rufus to fix it. Rufus had to kneel down on his knees to fiddle with the lever while Bertram sprawled in the throne decreeing, "up... down... more down... more up."

Bertram finger-shoo'ed Rufus imperially out of the room after his throne had been set to the right height. Closing the door and locking it, he surveyed the expanse of his office. Floor to ceiling walls, a door that locked, a view in two directions. These were executive level privileges! Unlocking his briefcase, he pulled out a cloth and a can of wax, and started polishing his new desktop.

### # # # # # # # #

"There's a TUTS show tonight. Do you want to go?"

"What is TUTS?" Winnie responded to Arthur's question.

"Theatre Under the Stars."

"Still not getting it. Everything in Heaven is under the stars."

"Heaven offers a lot of entertainment options on evenings and weekends. These can be live presentation by former mortal stars in the entertainment world, or they can be movie shows from long ago that are thrown up on a very big screen. Tonight, TUTS will be showing a very famous movie from 1937. I believe you'll find it entertaining."

"Is this a date?"

"Golly, no. I'm much too old to be thinking of dates. I'll try and stay awake for the whole show."

_Where did that come from?_ "Should I be wearing my feathers?"

"TUTS is much more fun when you're part of a huge audience."

### # # # # # # # #

"So that's where Bertram's _Hi Ho, Hi Ho It's off to work, I go_ came from. I can't imagine Bertram as a dwarf."

"Neither could Walt Disney, fortunately for us all."

"When did the Snow White movie come out?"

"1937."

"So you were here in Heaven in 1937. That would make you ..."

"One hundred and fifty three years old. I guess I really am an old geezer."

By now, Winnie had clued in. "I didn't mean anything by that geezer comment, Arthur. But, you are older than me. You gotta admit that."

"TUTS had this Disney movie on the big screen one week before you were born. That's when I watched it for the first time."

"You aren't 153 years older than me?"

"No. Angels live longer than mortals, but I'm quite young for an angel."

"How old are you as an angel?"

"I don't know."

"How would you not know?"

"Every time I did something wrong, I'd be sent back to guardian angel boot camp. Each time they memory wiped me, I lost all my memories including how long I had been in Heaven that time."

"How many times have they wiped your memory?"

"I'm kind of foggy on that. I do remember watching you get born, so I guess I've been in Heaven for fourteen years this time at least."

"You were at my birth?"

"Shoulder angel, level 3, I think. You were going to die. Somebody gave you some help."

"Who helped?"

"I don't know for sure. I was an invisible piece of fluff who didn't know what to do when your mom went into early labour. I knew enough to call for help."

"Are you still acting as my guardian angel?"

"I've been around you some times, but no. I don't believe you have a guardian angel. I haven't seen one, anyway."

"Because I don't need it?"

"Because you're too obnoxious to be around."

"Hey, that's rude. Remember, I control the French fries."

"Sorry. Us old geezers get forgetful."

### # # # # # # # #

_Narrator interlude. We're going back to Casper City._

_Billy did his business research, not only by reading all of his mom's textbooks, but also researching practical matters, like figuring out pricing and copter scheduling. The out of town companies had to charge high fees because they were making special trips. Billy would be able to undercut them with lower charges if he carried more freight than they did and made more frequent trips._

_I've written in earlier chapters how the future of mortal and immortal life can be determined by the decisions that are made daily by trillions of mortals and immortals. At a personal level, the future of a single mortal, for example, can be altered by a single decision. That decision could make that mortal's life better or worse even in situations where the decision maker had no personal relationship with the mortal at all._

_Take for example, Percy Cuter's decision to send Goodefellow's copter to Billy. That copter changed not only Billy's life, but Melody's life too._

_Melody had seen the niche that Billy's copter could fill. In uncharacteristic fashion for her, she pushed and harangued him into changing his life for the better. As she would confide to her friend, Jacob Simmons the vet, she didn't know why she had become so aggressive but it had worked. Billy just needed a firm hand._

_Let's look ahead in Melody's current life path. As Billy's business expands, she will change jobs and take over the day-to-day business management of the Goode Freight Transport Company. Billy will concentrate on the freight end, hiring pilots and buying copters of all sizes to fit his markets. With less stress and more happiness in her life, Melody will lose weight and become closer friends with Jacob. In time, she will move in with Jacob and Billy will have the house to himself._

_In his current life path, Billy's red and black copters will become the dominant freight transport business in every small city where he establishes a local office. In 2120, William Benjamin Goode and Melody April Goode will be honoured with the Wyoming Small Businesspeople of the Year award. In 2128, the Goode Freight Transport Company will win the Colorado Business of the Year award._

_The impact of the gift of Goodefellow's copter will go even further. As Billy makes more and more contacts in the business world, he will run across people of dubious character. In such cases, he will be prompted to have a quiet chat with the local sheriff. Several months later, an arrest will be made that would not have been made without Billy's intervention. Billy did this when people reminded him of his father who, as his mom had so accurately identified, was a sociopath. Billy was able to identify other such people because he could smell them. Turns out that Goodefellow did pass on something useful to his half-demonic son after all: the ability to identify demons when they were working on Earth._

_Which may raise a question in your mind. Why did Percy Cuter, a demon, act so generously towards his former boss' son? To answer that question, I will take you back to the very day when Molly Moonblossom visited the LCRI in the hopes of getting a lead on Goodefellow's family. She mentioned the copter to the receptionist who promised to ask Mr. Cuter about it. That day was a Monday and Mr. Cuter was in a meeting in Hell. She didn't know that all of the demons still infesting the LCRI would be thrown into torture pits that very day. Cuter never returned to Loveland and, as such, he never ordered the copter to be delivered to Melody and Billy. Goodefellow's black and red copter would remain discarded in the LCRI parking lot for several months. When it had been vandalized so much that it had no worth whatsoever, the new head of the LCRI (a mortal) would send it off to a junkyard._

_I'll leave it to my readers to figure out how Billy got a brand new black and red copter that changed his and his mom's life._

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 25

Rufus responded immediately to Bertram's strangulated shout on the intercom and raced to Bertram's office.

"Shut the door!"

Rufus did as he was told and turned to his boss who was so livid that every feather on his rigid body exuded a rosy tinge.

"Look!"

Rufus' scan around the office showed nothing amiss. The desktop was as neat as ever. The edges of the post-it notes were carefully aligned with the communicator and journal, the four corners of every paper on the bulletin boards were all tacked down and carefully aligned. "What?"

"Somebody has been in my office."

"It looks normal to me."

"When I left for lunch, it was normal. When I returned, the desk drawers were partially open and my chair was out of adjustment. It's too low for me now."

"Are you sure about the drawers?"

Bertram just stared at him.

"Do you have anything important in the drawers?"

"No, of course not."

"So, what's the big deal?"

"The office door was locked! Somebody has a key. And that somebody sat down at my desk, lowered my chair, and went through my drawers."

"I can see if Arthur had been entering data this morning."

"No, you doofus! It wasn't Arthur. Arthur is smaller than me!"

Rufus' bewildered expression told all.

"The intruder lowered my chair so that he could fit his knees under the desk. That means he's bigger than me."

"That's great Bertram, You have to be one of the biggest angels in Heaven. We've narrowed it down to what? Eight or ten angels?"

"No, you idjut! Only four angels are taller than I am. Guess who those four angels are!"

### # # # # # # # #

_Arthur, there are five undercover devils in Heaven. Gus and Bertram are two of them. William's fake desk bottoms worked perfectly._

_[Narrator: William had built four fake inflatable bottoms that could be attached to the legs of Bertram's desk. That's what Winnie and Arthur installed the previous evening. When Bertram was away from his desk at noon, Winnie had remotely inflated the fake bottoms on the back legs of Bertram's desk and that had tilted the desk forward enough to allow the well-greased drawers to slide open a bit. Raising the front legs in the same manner had left the desk level, but too high for the chair. She didn't even have to break into the office to do this.]_

### # # # # # # # #

"Alberta's demons were much more dedicated to their job than BC demons," Paula reported to Joe-Joe. "No comparison."

"That's interesting. Hell often has trouble with its middle management. I guess they have some weak managers in BC."

"What now?"

"Finish your mapping with ScarCity and AtroCity."

### # # # # # # # #

The day after an intruder had been in Bertram office, Rufus was talking to one of the possible intruders, an angel named Gus. Winnie was there too.

"I tell you, I didn't go into Bertram's office. Why would I take that kind of risk?"

"Did you give a key to anybody else?"

"Of course not. Only two keys are signed out - one to Bertram and the other to Lillian. She hasn't returned hers yet."

"Could Lillian have given her key to somebody else?"

"Why would she?"

"Well, if she were going on leave, she might give it to somebody who could keep an eye on things."

"Sure, that's possible, but she didn't do it officially. Otherwise, it would be entered in the book."

"Would Lillian always record a key transfer in the book?"

"Sure, doesn't everybody? This is Heaven after all."

Rufus left shortly afterwards. Lillian could have lent her key to somebody who didn't sign for it. If so, who would that angel be? An angel who doesn't follow the rules. Somebody close. A favorite. The answer in all cases was Arthur.

### # # # # # # # #

It's Sunday, November 5 and Yolanda is talking with Hank.

"Winnie didn't visit last night. It's been three weeks now."

"I noticed."

"I've tried to apologize but she's not answering."

"The place where she's working has some sort of electronic barrier to communications. She may not be receiving your messages."

"Should I try to GSP her again?"

Hank ignored the question. "Why have you been so intrusive?"

"I don't know. I couldn't help myself. I only know that something bad is going to happen to her and if she's being secretive, we won't be able to find her. Again!"

"Bad as in getting pregnant from a boyfriend she denies having."

"No. Bad as in I can see her falling to the ground. I can also see somebody carrying her inert body away."

"She has her sling. If she's in trouble, she can remove her brain plug."

"In my vision, she looks dead."

### # # # # # # # #

It's still Sunday. Rufus was out of his aerie and flying towards Bertram's aerie. Winnie was on her way to that aerie too.

"What will you do if Bertram invites Rufus in?" Arthur asked.

"He probably will. Whatever their statistical pilot test is, it should be ending now. They'll be talking about it and we need to know what they're doing. They won't discuss this on the porch. I'll try to sneak in with Rufus."

### # # # # # # # #

"What took you so long?" Arthur asked as Winnie entered the ship's galley. "Were they corrupting the pre-test and post-test data again?"

"I don't know. I couldn't get in."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 26

Being a Monday, Arthur was sitting high in the corner of the Assembly Plaza Building's meeting room. Winnie was with him, but not visibly so. Bertram would be announcing some news; they just didn't know what.

Rufus and Bertram had given up on the transparency flimsies, which meant that the meetings went faster now, but without the entertainment component. It was 3 pm before Rufus handed Bertram a one-page document.

"I have an announcement to make that I'm sure you'll find very exciting. I have previously announced our new angelic alignment through our new initiative, the Centrally Administered Democratic Allocation of Valuable Eternal Resources. This was combined with the new focus on providing mortals with encouragement on a regular, fair and systemic basis. I am aware that a few of you doubted that this new program would work."

"I am here today to announce that I have conducted a statistical study on the success of this program. Using data from our Questionnaire Angels, and after selecting that data in a random manner by computer, I conducted before and after statistical tests. The results are stunning. Mortals in our test site overwhelmingly reported that they were happier during the test period than before. This proves conclusively that exhortations to _Be good_ worked!"

"I will be passing the data to upper management with a recommendation that they consider sending humans subliminal thought messages to _Be good_ as a standard practice of interacting with mortals system wide. This will save Heaven a tremendous amount of resources and will fully counter Hell's use of numerically superior demonic resources. This is a great breakthrough in our battle with Hell."

Bertram turned to look at Rufus and nodded.

Rufus stepped forward and leaned towards Bertram's feather lapel microphone. "Let's all stand and ..."

"Question!" Arthur's voice interrupted Rufus's call for a standing whopation.

Bertram looked up at Arthur and then looked at Rufus. Rufus looked back and shrugged.

"Before we celebrate, I have a question." Arthur was making sure that he had been heard.

"I have one too."

"Me too."

"Me too."

These last three angels had no idea what to ask, but if Arthur had a question, they wanted to hear it.

"Is this another frivolous questions, Arthur?" Bertram perturbed.

"This is a statistical question, Big Boss."

"Go ahead."

"Will you be doing a second round of tests before making a recommendation to management? As I recall, this is something that you told us must always be done in case the original testing had been flawed."

Once again, CADAVER toppled out of the torpedo tubes and sped through the waters like a giant sludge ball.

### # # # # # # # #

"That puny lump of dirty feathers cost me three months!"

"Bertram, it's a tribute to your teaching. Arthur could never have learned anything about statistics otherwise."

Bertram saw the subtle dig and knew where this was leading. Rufus was going to blame him for the three-month delay. "I had to say that we'd do a follow up study. I had no other choice."

"I can sneak off to Hell tonight. I'm sure they'll understand why we have to extend the research period for three months."

_And let you talk to your patron and put the blame on me?_ "No, let's hold off informing them for a bit. I have to think."

### # # # # # # # #

It was one day later and Bertram was in his office waxing his old desk. A big angel knocked on his door and entered, after Bertram had waved him in.

"What are you doing here?" Bertram asked quietly. "We aren't supposed to know each other."

"Bertram, I'm Gus from the Building Management Division. I came by to make sure that the boys delivered your old desk." The big husky angel was all solicitude.

"Uh, yes, they did a good job." _(Bertram's face asked, 'What do you want?')_

"And take a gander at that desktop. It sure was a treat to see how well that wood was restored."

"I was told it would take a month. What happened?" _(Bertram's face repeated the question, 'What do you want??')_

"Well, we knew that you'd want this wonderful desk back as quickly as possible, so I bumped it up to the top of the queue."

"That was very kind of you." _(Bertram's face screamed, 'What do you want???')_

"Oh, and we rebuilt the drawers so that they all work now. In addition, we heard you were having some security concerns so we added some locks. I have the keys right here for you. Try them out."

Bertram did as invited. "Are these the only set?" _(His face thundered, 'What do you want????')_

Gus couldn't help but be thrown off by Bertram's volcanic face. He had thought that returning Bertram's desk promptly would calm him. But Bertram looked like he had just ingested a hot, baked potato through his nose and that potato was now ready to spew out in a spudtacular release of spudmaniacal emotion.

"Sure, you have the only keys. Well, we maintain the original masters back in the shop - just in case you ever lose yours. But, they're locked up solid. I'm the only one who has access to the key cabinet." _(That should reassure the old potato head. Rufus was right. We'll have to do something soon or he's going to blow his cover and ours too.)_

"So, it would be safe for me to store important documents in my desk?"

"Oh, sure. That's why we put in the locks." Gus missed Bertram's touch of sarcasm in his question, so anxious was he to leave before the potatoplosion.

Furious at discovering a traitor, Bertram pounded the desk five seconds after Gus had left his office. "Don't get mad, get even!" he told his desk. "Only one other angel knew I was having security issues with this office. Obviously Rufus brought Gus into his plot to take over my operation."

Bertram sat down at his desk and fumed. "Don't get mad, get even!" he muttered to his desk.

His desk didn't reply. It was probably _sphuddering_ in fear.

### # # # # # # # #

Several days later, Bertram called Rufus into his office and gave him an unusual order. "Go to Hell!" These were not words that one would normally hear from an angel.

"Rufus, go to Hell! Bertram repeated his hushed instruction to his befuddled assistant. "Deliver the messages I gave you yesterday! Hell needs to know why the test period had to be expended. Wait for a response."

"Boss, I really think I should stay here. Arthur..."

"Arthur is nothing but a lazy slob who tries to make trouble in order to avoid work. I know who's been invading my privacy and it's not him."

"Boss, I can catch Arthur in the act, but only if I'm here. Don't you want to catch Arthur, Boss?"

"For the last time Rufus - GO TO HELL!"

Rufus left the office as instructed, turning around at the doorway to try one more argument only to see Bertram jabbing his index finger straight down.

_[Narrator: From events that happened after this interaction, it's possible to conclude that Bertram had sent a coded message to his patron in Rufus' courier pouch telling him of Rufus' machinations and laying the blame for the three month delay at his hooves. Rufus would not be returning to Heaven after he had delivered his messages. In fact, he would never see the outside of Hell's ebony sewer grates again. All part of getting even.]_

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 27

It was yet another statistical Monday. As you'll soon see, members of the old Flying Force were becoming very interested in the subject.

"Bertram? I have a question about a previous exercise."

Bertram peered up from his teaching notes to see a hand waving in the center of the audience. The hand belonged to Mary. "What exercise?" he asked her.

"You gave us the example of a group of angels who polished their desks using horizontal motions, another group who used vertical motions, and another who used circular motions."

"Yes, I remember. The circular actions were statistically significant at the p = 0.01 level. Is that what you had as an answer?"

"Yes, but my question is on the research design. I'm curious why you didn't test a group that used a power waxer. Was it because of the dangers involved?"

Bertram was perplexed. Didn't she realize that that the scenarios were all hypothetical? He responded to Mary's question curtly. "You could certainly set up a group to use power waxers if you wanted, but there'd be no danger."

There, that should do it. Bertram noticed another hand waving for attention. He acknowledged the angel. "Stephan?"

"But what if the power waxers had frayed cords. There'd be potential danger. As the research designer, wouldn't you'd be responsible for any injuries incurred from the hazard?"

"Angels, that was a hypothetical example. There's no danger from power waxers, so the research designer has no risk. Now, shall we..."

Loris interjected. "But power cords do fray. What would you do if you had twenty angels in the group, but ten of them had defective power waxers? Would the sample size be big enough to include if ten angels were electrocuted?"

"But that's preposterous."

Dale interrupted Bertram's bafflement at this line of questioning. "It would be a _shocking_ experience, for certain."

A chortle, then two. Then, from the front, " _Electrifying_ effect, totally electrifying."

More chortles giggled out.

"Stop it, stop it this instant! Bertram's face feathers rippled erect. "Arthur, I warned you about your behavior. You've corrupted the entire class! Where are you, anyway?"

"But BB, I haven't uttered a word. Why are you blaming me?" Arthur defended himself before a rapt audience from a new seat at the front of the auditorium. His hands were upraised in innocence, pleading for vindication from such an unfair accusation. His colleagues didn't disappoint. Comments quippled in from all sides.

"You're too _wired_."

"Relax Bertram, or you'll blow a _fuse_."

"Yeah Bertram, _lighten_ up will you?"

Each comment had been followed by increasingly loud choruses of groans. Bertram attempted to sputter the onslaught to a halt. "Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT! I'm in charge of this meeting and if you... "

Arthur was quick to interrupt. "You're in charge? Did you really say that you were in ' _charge_ '? Oh, my."

Bertram's smugnificence wheezed into apoplectic twitches. If he hadn't been immortal, one would swear that he had been mortalfied.

Bertram's lapse was a borderline pun at best, but Arthur had been hoping for such a gift. He rose out of his seat and spread his wings to command silence. He scalded his point home. "Bertram, do you realize that you just made a pun and that puns are against the rules?" Arthur's indignant tone mimicked that of a pious, rule-fearing angel outraged by the most heinous of crimes. "As a department supervisor, you are supposed to set a good example. Do you know what would happen to you if other angels heard that you had flagrantly broken a rule after you had lectured us for months about following rules?"

"What?" Bertram's voice wavered barely to audibility.

"Watt? You asked _watt_?" Arthur deliberately mispronounced Bertram's question.

"We'll have to _charge him_ with conduct unbecoming a leader."

"And if he did it again, we'd have to _recharge_ him."

Almost all the angels were now standing in order to get a good view of their boss.

"Actually, he's not a very good _conductor._ "

"Yes, he doesn't have the _capacitance_ for it."

"Let's schedule his _induction_ into the hall of shame."

Everybody was getting into it now. Arthur hovered above the audience to regain control.

"But, we'd be willing to let bygones be bygones, provided that you cancelled these classes and let us do our work." A long pause followed with everybody feasting on the crumbles of Bertram's obsession.

Bertram's pause left room for another pun-pelting.

"Come on, Bertram, we need to _short circuit_ these classes."

"Yes, rev _amp_ your meetings," a pair of angels _amp_ lified.

"Give in, Bertram. _Resistance_ is futile."

Bertram started to vibrate, reeling. "This is blackmail," he accused, but his wilting voice lacked the customary indignation.

Nobody disagreed.

"All right, stats classes are cancelled," Bertram conceded defeat. "I never thought Heaven would see the day when angels would rebel."

Arthur had the final word from his hover at the front of the room. "Well actually, it would be more accurate to say that we had re _volt_ ed, wouldn't it?"

### # # # # # # # #

As Bertram fled to the sanctuary of his lockable office, he realized what he had been forced to do. Arthur had challenged his authority and won; he had lost!

Bertram's bad temper rose with each flap of his wings. Arthur's laziness had infected the rest! Flap. Arthur had conspired to make them rebel against his authority! Flap. Arthur was incorrigible. Flap. Arthur wasn't going to change no matter how patient and understanding Bertram was. Flap. The time for patience was ended. Flap. The time for gentle treatment had passed. Flap. Bertram had eliminated Rufus last week and now it was Arthur's turn.

_Don't get mad! Get even!_ But how?

...

_Don't get mad! Get even!_ But how?

...

_Don't get mad! Get even!_ Heaven had rules for unruly little angels.

Bertram had to weave through a crowd of workers putting up some sort of wire cage at the entrance to the building. Impatiently gaining the peace of the guardian angel complex, he detonated his way to his office. After two attempts to unlock the office door, he burst in and leaned over his desk, eyes closed, head bowed.

When the seething began to subside, Bertram lifted his head up to glance out his window, to calm himself, to help himself remember that he was the boss and Arthur was his to command. _Don't get mad! Get even!_ He inhaled deeply to calm himself. And immediately froze in place.

Moving only his head, Bertram sniffed the air. The presence was strong. Some one had been here very recently and had left a very particular calling card. A very revealing calling card. Sulfur. A devil's calling card. Somebody in a devil's body had been in this office this morning. Only somebody with keys could have entered. That person had to have been Gus.

Bertram took one giant step back from the edge of his desk and scrutinized the locked drawers. The feather he had carefully placed on the top of one drawer handle was now on the floor. Somebody had unlocked and opened that drawer.

Bertram scanned the floor. His carefully arranged patina of feather fluff revealed a very big footprint. A footprint of a hoof. What a bungling cretin! How dare Gus jeopardize The Plan by materializing as a devil in a GA building! Blundering oaf!

_Don't get mad! Get even!_ Bertram stood astride Gus' body - the long shreds of scales that Bertram had ripped from his body were lying in bloody strips on the ground, guts spilling out of the two gore holes that went deep into his belly... Bertram ended his fantasy. Killing Gus would expose them all.

_Don't get mad! Get even!_ Better to destroy his career. A direct accusation to the head devil in Heaven would do that. No, that wasn't possible. Only exceptional circumstances permitted contact with the head devil.

_Don't get mad! Get even!_ What about blackmail? Threaten to expose Gus. The evidence was all there. Gus would be desperate to avoid...

Bertram was thinking diabolically again. Gus had made a big mistake, one that would cost him dearly if Bertram revealed it. From this point on, he owned Gus. Later, there'd be many paybacks, but first, Gus' meddling had to be stopped.

Leaving the building, Bertram was immediately sucked into a crush of angels laughing and giggling at a show being presented within a large wire cage floating in the air. Open-air entertainment events were scheduled from time to time in Heaven, but not usually in the middle of a working morning. Bertram was searching for a path through the crowd when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Hey, Bertram. What do you think of the show?"

Bertram turned around to see one of the former Flying Force angels. "What show?"

"The Chicken Imitation Contest. Aren't those costumes great?"

A dozen angels were prancing around inside the wire cage. All were wearing mock chicken heads and fake chicken feet. One or two had added some large tail feathers. The chickens were shuffling around the cage, scratching at the ground, and poking for food hidden inside broken heavenly protocol binders. One particularly big chicken was generating tremendous laughs. It was so encumbered by its large butt that it was stumbling all over the cage. All the entrants were caterwauling at the top of their voices. "Bu-kaw, bu-kaw, bu-kaw."

Satan curse that Rufus! Only he knew what had happened inside that chicken wire cage. This proved Rufus' guilt! Even worse, it revealed his treachery! Rufus had confided with angels. Rufus had gone over to the white side! Bertram changed his mind. This certainly qualified as the exceptional circumstance that would allow direct contact with the head devil. Fortunately, he didn't have to leave the crowd.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 28

"I'll pick up my notes and we can work together on the report back at the ship," Arthur was saying as he entered his aerie.

"We need to submit that report quickly," Winnie said. "I took a picture of the angel Bertram spoke to. He is probably the devil in charge."

"We'll pull an all-nighter and have the report ready early tomorrow morning."

"You can use one of the cabins in the ship if you need to sleep," Winnie said as she followed Arthur out of his aerie.

They weren't expecting four big muscular angels to drop out of sky and surround them. They were wearing military uniforms, but for reasons you can understand, neither Arthur nor Winnie noticed that.

A fifth angel hovered over them. "Do not move. Do not even twitch a feather. Sergeant, the female."

The angel closest to Winnie touched her neck with something and there was a little sizzling sound. Winnie crumpled to the ground. The sizzler hid his weapon somewhere on his uniform and lifted Winnie's inert body onto the shoulder of his partner. Both looked up at the hovering angel.

"Consider her as armed and dangerous. Keep her captive in Staging Position Alpha and allow nobody to approach within a kilometer without offering the password."

Arthur was regaining his senses as the two soldiers lifted off. "Hey," he managed.

"Sir, do not move. Your partner is alive. How long she stays that way, I cannot say. Both of you are facing serious charges."

"What charges?"

"Not my job to say, Sir. You will be notified of the charges when time permits. For now, I would prefer to put you under house arrest until your trial, but we can immobilize you and put you in a holding cell if necessary. Do I have your permission to enter your aerie?"

"Why do you want to enter my aerie?"

"My purpose in entering, Sir, is to remove any means that you might have to communicate to anybody in Heaven. Anything that I remove will be returned to you in the same condition as it was when I removed it, pending the results of the trial, of course."

"Go ahead."

...

"Once you enter, your aerie will be sealed, Sir. You will not be able to leave and nobody will be able to approach."

"How long before the trial?"

"Justice in Heaven is quick, Sir."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 29

What follows are excerpts from Arthur's diary for Tuesday November 14, 2090.

### # # # # # # # #

I awoke in the middle of the night to some shouting outside my aerie. Not that I was getting much sleep anyway. I have no windows in the aerie, so when the soldiers locked me in last night, I didn't actually see them leave. I couldn't check to see what had happened because I couldn't open the door. The shouting ended quickly. Something to do with my guards, I guess.

...

"Sir, I have a message for you."

I opened my door to see the same soldier from last night. He had marks on his uniform that designated rank, but I can't read those. He had a lot of marks, so I assumed he was fairly high in the military hierarchy. He was holding a sealed envelope in his hand. I took it and he closed the door for me.

The envelope held a single sheet of paper listing my _Initial Indictments_. That meant more were coming. This was not particularly encouraging because I hadn't been able to figure what I had done wrong. Whatever it was that I did wrong, I must have done a lot of it. At this point in the day, I was still thinking that there had been a terrible mistake.

Indictment #1: _On Monday, October 16, the accused did deliberately incite angels in his cadre to show disrespect to the cadre leader during a formal cadre meeting. This disrespect disrupted the meeting to the point where it could not continue._

I checked my logs. That was the meeting where I had been Arthur, the hired pun singer. Did I incite angels to show disrespect? Yeah, I guess I did. I wondered what Heavenly Protocol I had broken. Bertram would know. This indictment obviously originated with him.

Indictment #2: _On Monday, November 13, the accused led a mutiny against the duly appointed angel in charge of the cadre meeting and forced the angel in charge to relinquish control of the cadre to rebel forces_.

November 13 was yesterday. Getting Bertram to stop teaching statistics was a mutiny? Really? Rebel forces? Again, Bertram was behind this indictment. What I couldn't understand was what kind of pull he had to put me into guarded solitary confinement on the basis of those two accusations. No way was yesterday's meeting a mutiny.

At 1:30, I heard another knock on my door and that led to another envelope. This time, the officer didn't close the door but watched as I read the indictments.

_Indictment #3: Negligent behaviour that lead to the death of a mortal._

What?

_Indictment #4: Conspiring to undermine rule and order in Heaven with the explicit intent_ ...... Huh?

"Sir, we have to leave. I'm under orders to deliver you to your trial now."

Justice in Heaven is indeed quick. "I need time to prepare my defense," I ventured.

"Sir, you'll be under the truth ray. You'll need no defense. The truth will come out."

I felt a tug on my wing and looked around. Six soldiers were within touching distance. I looked up. At least a dozen other soldiers were hovering.

"Sir, you will fly slowly on a steady altitude. If you try to break through your guard detail, you may be injured in that attempt. Will you comply?"

I agreed, but I didn't understand why this was happening.

"Perimeter defense," he bellowed. "Maintain a tight screen around the accused. Remember, his partner demonstrated earlier this morning that she can strike from anywhere without warning."

_That explained the yelling guards. Winnie, what have you done?_

### # # # # # # # #

We landed without incident in front of a non-descript building far from the heaven scrapers in downtown Heaven. The sign in front said _Advanced Planning_ , so I guessed that it did advanced planning, whatever that was. We were approaching the front door when a soldier angel rocketed in for a landing. He was in camouflage feathers. He stood close to my head guard and I was able to hear some of what he was saying.

"Tracked her down... trying to hide in the Athenian caves.... full mobilization has been ordered... installing purity gates...."

Full mobilization with purity gates? They believe Winnie is a devil? This can't be happening.

I may have lost focus for a bit. By the time I brought myself back together again, I found myself in a basement meeting room. A finger in my ribs was insisting that I stand up. Well, the finger was insistently prodding. A voice was telling me to stand up. I did.

In front of me was a standard heavenly table with three padded office chairs positioned behind it. I was standing in front of a wooden chair. The kind that had a hard back and a harder bottom. Behind me and to my left, Bertram was standing in front of a similar chair. He looked away when I glanced at him. He was in his dress whites. I was in my cheesie coloured oranges. I may have binged on junk food last night.

An angel in dress whites and a short burgundy cape appeared from a side door and strode to the left-most chair. Big and burly, military decorations emblazoned on his barrel chest, a halo at least eight rankings thick.

"My name is Joe-Joe. I am the ranking officer in command of Heaven's Christian Soldier Special Operations." He sat down. I had never realized how high Joe-Joe was in the command structure. I had thought he was semi-retired. My mood edged into optimism. Joe-Joe knew me. As far as I knew, he liked me.

A second figure in dress whites and a burgundy cape appeared and strode to padded chair on the right. Tall, wide shoulders, and powerful looking. He was the poster figure of the classic angel with a perfect body, chiseled features, and piercing glance that warned _Demons and sinners beware!_ He had three halos.

"My name is Randall and I am the director of Heaven's Computer Center Complex." He too sat down after introducing himself. He failed to mention that Bertram had talked with him yesterday. Winnie had taken his picture. Goodbye optimism.

A third angel filled the empty chair. She also was in dress whites and the burgundy cape. She was average height for an angel but she walked with a limp. To my eyes, she looked old. Much older than the average angel. She wore eight halos. "My name is Brunhilda and I am the Director of Advanced Planning. I am the senior judge of this tribunal. Bailiff, please read the charges."

It didn't take him long.

Brunhilda continued. "In cases where capital crimes have been alleged, in order to ensure that the accused receives a fair trial, all witnesses and the accused must be questioned under the truth ray. Given the nature of the truth beam, it is very important that only questions are asked which pertain to the charges, and that the defendant's rights are protected. For that reason, as Senior Judge, I will be the only angel in this courtroom entitled to ask questions. Do any of the other angels in this courtroom object to this procedure?"

...

"Hearing no objections, we will begin."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 30

The bailiff re-read indictment #1: _On Monday, October 16, the accused did deliberately incite angels in his cadre to show disrespect to the cadre leader during a formal cadre meeting. This disrespect disrupted the meeting to the point where it could not continue._

Brunhilda took Bertram through the reasons why he had charged me with inciting angels to show disrespect. As the truth ray revealed, he actually did interpret my hired pun singing role as being intended to make the cadre disrespect him.

Soon, it was my turn to testify. First, I had to describe what happened for the judges. Brunhilda confirmed with Bertram (under truth ray) that I had accurately depicted the incident. Then, the light switched to me.

"Arthur, did you deliberately ask Bertram questions about waxing desks so that you could become a hired pun singer?"

"Yes, I did."

"Arthur, did you tell these puns so that Bertram would be disrespected?"

"No," I answered, and the truth ray remained green. I really was telling the truth. First, Bertram was not going to be disrespected because of my actions. He was already fully disrespected. Second, I did the pun singing for another reason entirely. I did it so that I could aggravate him to the point of him losing control and going to the head devil. Winnie had been busy that morning putting varnish into the trophy cup and we wanted Bertram to have two bad experiences one after the other. They weren't bad enough to send Bertram to the head devil. I was waiting for the head judge to ask more questions that would reveal my real intentions about uncovering Bertram's presence in Heaven as an underfeather agent from Hell, but she didn't. She said something that I was not expecting at all.

"The prisoner has answered truthfully that he had not intended to have the cadre show disrespect. I am removing this charge from the list of indictments. There is no reason for me to consult with the other judges. This is cut and dry. Bertram misinterpreted Arthur's prank."

### # # # # # # # #

The bailiff reread Indictment #2 for the court.

"Indictment #2: On Monday, November 13, the accused led a mutiny against the duly appointed angel in charge of the cadre meeting and forced the angel in charge to relinquish control of the cadre to rebel forces."

Brunhilda took Bertram through his perceptions of the event. He really did think that it was a mutiny and that the angels punning him were rebels. He ended his testimony by citing my closing comment about the cadre angels being revolting. That wasn't going to help my case.

As I expected, I was asked to replay the incident from my perspective. I had free rein to talk so long as I told the truth, so I emphasized that my involvement was relatively minor. I also mentioned that at the end of meeting, Bertram was still in charge whereas that would not have been the case has it been a true mutiny.

"Arthur, is it true that this classroom event would not have happened had you not planned it and involved other angels in the cadre."

"Yes, that's true."

"I point out to the other judges that Arthur has plead guilty to incitement, but I also point out that this is not part of the indictment against him."

"Arthur, do you enjoy puns?"

"Yes, I do."

"Are you aware this there is a heavenly protocol that prohibits puns in Heaven?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"I point out to our other judges that Arthur has plead guilty to violating an obscure and very old heavenly protocol. However, I also point out that this was not part of Bertram's indictment and so no guilt should be ascribed to Arthur's behaviour or character. I notice that Arthur seems to tells puns with great impunity."

Brunhilda paused.

And she kept pausing.

"Im PUN ity," she said the word emphasizing the middle syllable. "I see that nobody has been struck down deaf and dumb from my pun. This heavenly protocol makes no sense and it should be removed. However, telling puns was not part of Bertram's indictment. So, let's look at the specific parts of that charge."

"Arthur, is it true that when you said that the cadre was revolting, did you utter those words because it was a pun?"

"Yes, I thought it was a rather good one."

"Is it true that you were not trying to lead the other angels into a revolt whereby you would become their leader?"

"Yes, that is true."

"The word mutiny usually means overthrowing a leader through acts of violence. Arthur, were you advocating violence against Bertram with your comment?"

"No."

"Is it true that you offered to stop punning if Bertram stopped teaching what he was teaching?"

"Yes, that's true."

"Arthur, what was Bertram teaching that you found so objectionable?"

"Statistics."

Silence died and went to Heaven. It didn't have far to go.

"Truth ray on Bertram."

"Bertram, is it true that you were teaching statistics in weekly meetings that are supposed to be confined to departmental issues?"

"Yes."

"How long had you been exposing your angels to statistical instruction?"

"I don't know. Months at least."

"I find that the charge of mutiny is not applicable here. There was no violence. There were no rebel forces. There were no revolting forces. There were angels who were trying to escape instruction in statistics which is perfectly understandable. Do either of the two judges sitting beside me disagree with my comment?"

....

"Hearing no response, I rule that Bertram's second charge against Arthur is invalid and is hereby dropped. Bertram, your presence in this courtroom is no longer required. However, I wish to speak with you after the trial is over. Do not leave the building. Court will resume in fifteen minutes."

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 31

I have to admit that I was feeling somewhat relieved during the recess. The Head Judge had essentially thrown out all of Bertram's accusations against me, had let me explain myself, and had seemed sympathetic even to the point of telling a pun and grimacing when she heard of the statistics classes. Mind you, the charges in the second indictment were far more serious. I still couldn't figure out where they had come from.

Joe-Joe had left the courtroom at a run when the recess had been announced. I saw him come back into the room, huddle with Brunhilda, and shake his head negatively. I realized that Joe-Joe, the officer in charge of Special Ops, would be in charge of the troops looking for Winnie. That negative shake of the head? They hadn't found her yet. At least, that's what I thought it meant. That gave me a great surge of happiness. She still was safe. And then I realized. I had completely forgotten about Winnie during the trial.

That happiness became guilt and I mean massive amounts of guilt. I was selfish. I was unthinking. I thought only of myself. I didn't care if she were caught. I didn't care if she were scared. I didn't care that she was trying to run away from the entire Special Ops forces of the Christian Soldiers. One small girl, pursued by an entire army. And yet, she had tried to rescue me from my aerie this morning. What had I done for her? What kind of angel was I?

I felt a hand on my arm. The bailiff steered me to my chair. The three judges were staring at me with looks that suggested I had been gone for a while.

"Are you ready to continue?" Brunhilda asked.

I nodded and sat down. The guilt pressed down on me even more. Brunhilda began her examination.

"While Bertram's indictments were unfounded, they did prompt me to research your recent activities, Arthur. I was disturbed by your apparent irreverence for heavenly order. The charges in the second indictment stem from my research."

Well, now I knew where they had come from. Not that I cared right now.

"Since some of the charges are considered capital offenses, I will focus my questions more tightly. Do you understand, Arthur?"

"What?"

"Do you understand that you are facing serious charges?"

"Yes."

"Unless I tell you otherwise, you will restrict your answers to either _Yes_ or _No_."

"Yes or no," I repeated. _Is Winnie in pain? Scared?_

"Arthur, look at me."

I shifted my gaze.

"Truth ray on Arthur."

"Arthur, are you faking an illness to avoid finishing this trial?"

"No?" I asked. The light remained green.

"Arthur, within this last year, did Bertram order you to cease all of your trips to Heaven?"

"Yes."

"Did Bertram order you to cease all your operations on Earth?"

"Yes."

"Did you understand those orders?"

"Yes."

"In July of this year, did you travel to a small place on Earth named Loveland?"

"Yes."

"Did you travel there numerous times?"

"Yes."

"Were you running an operation in Loveland?"

"Yes."

"In spite of direct orders from your superior to not leave Heaven?"

"Yes."

"Was your superior aware of this?"

"No."

"Would it be fair to say that you worked very hard at keeping your superior unaware of your plans?"

"Yes."

"As part of this operation, did you involve a young female mortal in your plan?"

"Yes."

"Did your plan present a high degree of danger for you and your mortal assistant?"

"Yes."

"During your operation, did your assume a mortal mammal's body?"

"Yes."

"Did your mortal body kill another mortal body?"

_[I killed a gerbil.]_ "Yes."

"Was your mortal body hungry?"

"No."

"So you deliberately killed the other mortal body?"

"Yes."

"The human mortal that was helping you, was she in this killing zone?"

_[I tried to get her out.]_ "Yes."

"Is that mortal living safely on Earth now?"

"No."

"Is it true that the mortal whose life you jeopardized by exposing her to severe danger in the area of a Heaven-Hell operation is now in Heaven?"

"Yes."

"Judges, you have heard Arthur admit to the first three charges on the second indictment: (1) He managed an undercover operation on Earth without the awareness or the authorization of his superior and in direct defiance of his superior's orders to remain in Heaven. (2) During this operation, Arthur took control of a mortal mammal's body and deliberately killed another mortal mammal. And (3) During his operation, Arthur exposed a young female mortal to excessive danger which resulted in her being in Heaven well before she was due to arrive."

**Brunhilda, the Steamroller** was on a mission that could not be stopped.

"Arthur, how old was that young girl? You may answer this question fully."

"She was fourteen."

"Do you have any remorse about being responsible for her death? Answer _Yes_ or _No._ "

_[She's not dead, so I have no remorse]_ "No."

"You have no remorse or quilt whatsoever from what happened in Loveland to a fourteen year old innocent girl with her whole life ahead of her?"

_[I have no guilt from that because she didn't die.]_ "No." _[I do have a lot of guilt about what's happening to her now. Will that count?]_

"Judges, I believe we need a recess. I know I certainly do."

### # # # # # # # #

I continued to sit in my chair during the recess. Once again, the guilt pressed down on me. I saw Winnie crumpling and two military angels catching her. I saw Winnie desperately trying to stay ahead of an army of military angels that was chasing her. Again, she crumpled to the ground when they caught her. I saw her crumple again. And again.

I bowed my head and shook it, trying to dislodge that guilt vision. I moved out of my chair and walked around. That gave me a temporary reprieve. This guilt was far worse than the guilt I had felt when I pulled the bagpipe concert prank on Lillian, which had ended up with her in a gerbil cage.

That thought must have triggered my memories because now I was seeing Lillian, asleep at her desk. Lillian unconscious in her gerbil cage, yet still sending a message to me in our secret body signals. The guilt increased and I had to sit down again.

Shaking my head had worked once. Would it work again? It did. Temporarily guilt free, I looked up. Joe-Joe and Randall were off in a corner, talking. Brunhilda was in her chair staring at me. Perhaps she was wondering if I had been faking an illness. I felt another wave of guilt coming. Winnie crumpling to the ground. Lillian crumpled on the floor of gerbil cage. Same visions. Same guilt. Brunhilda turned to Joe-Joe as he eased into his seat and began to talk to her. She put her hand to her mouth and began to work on an errant fingernail.

### # # # # # # # #

"Truth ray on Arthur."

"Only a few more questions, Arthur. Answer _Yes_ or _No_ to all my questions. Are you able to continue?"

"Yes."

"You looked a little rocky. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever been to the Athenian caves?"

"Yes."

"Were you there on Saturday, October 28?"

"Yes."

"Did you go alone?"

"No."

"Did you go with a female angel?"

_[Well, she was in her angel body, so...]_ "Yes."

"The grottos can be somewhat dangerous if you get lost in the murk. Were you with an angel you could trust?"

"Yes."

"Afterwards, when you returned from your day trip, you made a comment to your companion to the effect that, if you could, you'd destroy the halocracy. Did you make that comment?"

"Yes."

"Was your intention to destroy Heaven?"

"No."

"What was your intention? You may speak freely."

"To improve Heaven."

"I am finished with my questions. It is customary in trials that involve serious crimes for the head judge to give the accused an opportunity to speak to the tribunal about the charges that he is facing. Perhaps to add an explanation; perhaps to correct a misperception. Since the accused is still under the truth ray, the court will know if the angel is telling the truth or not. Arthur, do you wish to address the court?"

"No."

"The court will recess. Arthur, you are to remain in this room."

...

I still had no idea what was going on. The questions about Winnie and me visiting the caves, for example, came out of the blue. The most interesting part of the questions was that Brunhilda had known about my conversation with Winnie when we were lounging in hammocks on an invisible ship.

Back to the Table of Contents

# Chapter 32

Brunhilda took Joe-Joe and Randall back to her office. She had a standard heavenly desk and chair, but she also had three soft armchairs into which they settled. "We can talk safely here," she indicated. "Joe-Joe. Any change in status of your operation?"

"No. We still haven't captured her."

"Who haven't you captured?"

"Joe-Joe, is Randall cleared to hear this?"

"He has a three halo clearance," Joe-Joe answered.

"Randall, this information cannot leave this room."

Randall nodded in agreement.

"For some time now, we've been hearing flitters of information that suggested that Hell was up to something big. We had nothing confirmable. Just little bits of gossip coming out of the shoulder demon ranks. Shoulder demons are inherently stupid. They say things that shoulder angels can hear. Some of those noises came to Joe-Joe."

Joe-Joe took over. "Do you remember a long time ago when there was speculation that Hell was trying to infiltrate some devils into Heaven?"

"No. I didn't hear anything like that."

"Well, we heard some gossip and looked at our external security. There was no way that devils could infiltrate Heaven. The gossip turned out to be spectacularly wrong. We did tighten up a few things, but frankly, we forgot about the whole idea that devils might operate secretly in Heaven. When I heard that something big was coming, I immediately thought about that kind of threat. Infiltration of a devil but disguised as an angel. No way would that devil get through the purity gates, but I did wonder if Hell might have found another entrance into Heaven that we didn't know about. That possibility concerned me. I brought my concerns to Brunhilda since she is in charge of Heaven's planning for the future. She needed to know that our security was air tight or else she'd have to make some very big changes in her plans."

Brunhilda took over. "When Bertram raised his initial concerns about Arthur's behaviour in meetings, I heard about his charges. I spoke with one of the judges afterwards. Arthur has a long history of getting demoted and I checked into him. He's not what you would call a typical angel. If Hell were going to infiltrate a devil into Heaven, he very well might act like Arthur. My staff didn't find anything that suggested that Arthur was anything but what he was - a rebellious, messy, irreverent angel. However, we did catch glimpses of him with a female angel who did not appear to have a work assignment. We managed to snap a picture of her and I gave that to Joe-Joe. He'll explain what happened next."

"When souls receive their angelic bodies, they are allowed to pick a name. Afterwards, that name and a picture of the angel are stored in an angelic database. Arthur's friend is not in that database. This is a very serious omission. It means that she's not an angel that came to Heaven as a soul."

"She's from Hell?" Randall asked.

"That's what Brunhilda and I concluded. She's not in the database but she's flying around Heaven. What else could she be? I ordered a Special Ops team to find her. We checked the records for aeries and couldn't find any record of an angel looking like her being assigned to one. That's even more reason to conclude that she's from Hell. We figured that she was camping in the wild. The only link to her that we had was Arthur, so we watched him closely. We got a break on October 28."

"Brunhilda asked some questions about that date in the tribunal."

"Yes. On that date, soldiers from Special Ops saw Arthur and his friend flying to the caves and they managed to keep them in sight. They didn't dare try to follow them into the caves, as they'd have been noticed. But they did follow Arthur and the fake angel back to her lair. A long range mic picked up the following comment about what she expected to happen."

_When I'm in charge of Heaven, I'm going to let souls keep their memories of life on Earth._

"Wow."

"That's what we thought too," Brunhilda said. "We wondered if Arthur had been fully aware of what this angel was."

"That's why you asked him if he went to the caves with an angel he could trust."

"Yes, that one question had two parts. Was he with an angel? Did he trust her? The truth ray established that he thought she was an angel. Moreover, she was an angel he could trust. That means Arthur is not a traitor. He didn't know what she actually was. We have to keep this in mind when we make our ruling."

Joe-Joe took over the briefing. "To bring Randall fully up to speed, security forces apprehended the two of them last night when they were leaving Arthur's aerie. The security detail rendered the fake angel unconscious immediately and began to transport her to a secure facility where we planned to interrogate her under the truth ray. On the flight to that facility, she somehow regained consciousness, disabled the two guards and escaped. We had put a tracking device on her and so were able to follow her as she flew to the caves. She's in there now but the tracking device cannot pinpoint her location in a place like the caves. We know that she is going deeper and deeper into the grottos and it's obvious why she is doing that. We now believe the deepest grottos might be part of Hell's exterior boundary or adjacent to it. If so, the Athenian caves were probably her entry point into Heaven. Why else would she return there if not to escape?"

"I have a whole battalion searching the grottos for her but we may not be able to get to her before she escapes. We have no maps of the grottos. To prevent Hell from sending up any other fake angels through the caves in the future, we are concealing armed purity gates on all the possible routes up to the surface. From now on, if Hell sends any devil or demon past one of those gates, it will be exploded."

"So if she tries to re-enter Heaven, she'll be killed?"

"Yes."

"Do you think that's the big thing that Hell was going to try?"

"Sure looks like it," Joe-Joe expressed his confidence.

"Remember, we never had this discussion, Randall. Now, what are we going to do about Arthur and his problems with authority?"

### # # # # # # # #

Brunhilda, Randall, and Joe-Joe returned to the courtroom where Brunhilda read out the court's verdict on Arthur's charges. They found him guilty on all three indictments. Joe-Joe took Arthur out of the courtroom to start him on his sentence, Randall went back to his computer center, and Brunhilda remained in the courtroom to talk with Bertram. As you'll recall, Brunhilda had a few things to say to Bertram about the charges he had brought.

### # # # # # # # #

"Levying such trivial charges was a waste of heavenly resources, Bertram."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"But I must say that you had an intuitive sense of Arthur's true character. Plus, your idea for restructuring our delivery systems to focus on centrally administered subliminal thought messages is very innovative. You were correct that the Flying Force was not obtaining the results that it should have."

Bertram was standing ramrod erect and motionless - not knowing what to expect.

"Management has been impressed. Effective immediately, you are promoted one rank in the halocracy and you are invited to serve on the Business Plan Creation and Halocracy Restructuring Committee."

Bertram put his hands on a chair to steady himself. Promotion! He dragged himself back to attention, his mind exulting, but his face feathers frozen in emotionless, horizontal creases.

"This committee will formulate Heaven's business plan for the next ten years. Your creativity in developing programs that can save heavenly resources while simultaneously improving our effectiveness will be brought to this committee."

A tiny smile tried to glimmer out of one corner of Bertram's lips before slinking back into hiding.

"As you know, this committee's deliberations are the most closely guarded secret in all of Heaven since the decisions the committee will make over the next several years will form Heaven's strategic offense and defense against Hell. By agreeing to serve on this committee, you will find yourself operating in our most secure environment. You and your colleagues will meet secretly, in hidden locations, under heavy security, and isolated from your current associates. It is demanding work and requires attention to minute details since you will be making long range plans for every operational unit in Heaven's halocracy. We thought that your vast knowledge of the heavenly protocols made you an ideal candidate for this committee. Will you serve?"

Bertram could hardly believe his ears. This was a dream assignment for an underfeather devil! Only one issue remained: maintaining communication links to Hell.

"Will I still be able to work on my hobby?"

"Oh certainly. You may take the portal to your collection with you and may adjust the contents as you wish. We encourage our committee members to relax and enjoy themselves outside of meetings."

"Then, I accept."

"I thought you might." Brunhilda crossed the courtroom, extended her right hand to clasp with his. "I wish you the success you have shown everybody that you deserve."

"May I ask a question?"

"Certainly."

"What happened to Arthur?"

"Results of tribunals such as ours are normally kept confidential, but since you had to put up with him for so long, I can tell you that he's been banished from Heaven. He will retain his position as a one-halo guardian angel and can earn his way back into Heaven, but anything he does will have to be done without access to any halocratic resources whatsoever. Perhaps that will teach him to respect the benefits of the halocracy and its rules. Until he changes his attitude, we won't have him here in Heaven infecting others."

"And Lillian?"

"PR angels know little about guardian angels and how they should operate. I doubt very much that you will interact with her in the future. She's on extended leave."

Back to the Table of Contents

[Author's note: All of your questions will be answered in the next book in the series. _Lock Up Your Cornstarch (#20)_ will be published on Smashwords on Saturday, November 9, 2019.]

# Books in the Wilizy series

As of November 2019, there were twenty novels in the Wilizy series. Check below to see if you've missed any.

**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 characters is Winnie.

**Book #19: Brunhilda** **.**

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 levels capital charges against Arthur. This time, he won't be going back to guardian angel school.

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# 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.

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