Bearing an Hourglass (15 page)

He learned that all these personnel were souls in Purgatory, here because they had been in perfect balance when they died. It was not a bad afterlife for them and not a good one. By definition, it was in between. Eventually, if they served well, they would graduate to Heaven—but it took much longer to accomplish this in Purgatory than it would have in life. Life was intense and
leveraged, he remembered; the Afterlife was diffuse and relatively calm. At least this was the case in Purgatory; Norton could glean no information on what went on in Heaven or Hell. All he knew was that every soul wanted to go to the former, and no soul to the latter.

He was relaxing in the afternoon—day and night seemed to follow the normal course here, though he suspected this was artificially arranged—watching the holo unit—which was filled with news about the changeover in the office of Chronos—when he had a visitor.

“Who?” he asked the butler, not believing the announcement.

“Satan, sir,” the man repeated calmly.

“I have no business with the Devil!”

“Shall I inform him you are indisposed, sir?”

But already curiosity was mixing with awe and horror. “I—can he do anything to me here?”

“No, sir. One Incarnation can not interfere with another without the other’s consent, here or anywhere. Incarnations are inviolate, especially when in uniform.”

“Uniform?”

“Your cloak, sir. It is a barrier of time, acting automatically against any physical threat.”

Norton sighed. “Then I suppose I’d better find out what he wants. Show him in.” One day ago he would have scoffed at the notion of meeting the Incarnation of Evil!

Satan was ushered in. “The Prince of Evil, Father of Lies, my Lord Satan,” the butler announced formally without a trace of disrespect. These were the Devil’s legitimate titles.

Norton had been braced for a demon creature with horns and a forked tail. He was disappointed. Satan was a perfectly ordinary-looking middle-aged man in a conservative, dark red business suit. His hair was reddish-brown, neatly trimmed and combed. He was clean-shaven. There was no trace of fire in his complexion, His gaze was bland, and he had a faint atmosphere of some masculine fragrance.

Satan stepped briskly forward and extended his hand.
Norton saw no convenient way to avoid it, so he shook hands. Satan’s fingers were firm and warm, but by no means hot. There was nothing to indicate any infernal association.

“Uh, to what do I owe the, uh, honor of this visit?”

“Oh, this is merely a social call,” Satan said with a winning smile. His teeth were white and even. “You are new to this office, so I thought I’d be neighborly and offer any assistance you may require.”

Norton frowned as they sat down. “I am new here, true. Perhaps I misunderstand. I thought you would not be interested in—in helping anyone else.”

Satan laughed. The sound was wholesome and warm. “My dear Chronos—I am an Incarnation, like yourself! Each of us has his duty, and it behooves us to cooperate with one another. We have a common interest in order.”

“I thought—I do not mean to be offensive—that you opposed order.” Norton remembered the nefarious reputation of the Prince of Evil, the origin of all mischief.

Satan made a gesture of bafflement. “Me? Oppose order? By no means! I support order; in fact, I would prefer to have more of it.” He smiled again, magnetically. “Perhaps I differ slightly with God as to which one of Us should govern; but apart from that detail, Our designs are similar.”

Against his will and better judgment, Norton found himself warming to this affable entity. “Well, in fairness I have to say that I do not side with you.”

“And why should you, Chronos? No one in his right mind wants to go to Hell! I would go to Heaven Myself, were it feasible.”

Norton had to smile. Satan’s humor was infectious. “You don’t like Hell? Why do you stay there, then?”

“Because I have a job to do, sir! Who else would assume My office, if I were to desert My post?”

Who, indeed! “Is it a necessary office? Why not just let Good predominate?”

Satan shook his head sadly. “Alas, the human condition does not permit. There is both good and evil in every
person, and so there have to be final repositories for those aspects in the Afterlife. Without good and evil, free will would be meaningless and life would be pointless. Each person must choose his fate by how he lives, thereby defining his fundamental nature. Naturally the average person hates and fears the consequence of the evil in himself. If he did not, he would never make progress into good. But the flesh is fallible, and each person is also sorely tempted by the immediate benefits of the exercise of evil. Only in the course of life can his true direction be determined. Every person professes to love good and hate evil, but in his actions his real preference emerges. It is a most interesting study.” He shrugged. “But I did not come here to bore you with shop talk, Chronos. How may I help you?”

“I’m not sure there is any need,” Norton said, impressed by Satan’s discussion without trusting his motive. “Lachesis has been helping me.”

“Of course she would,” Satan agreed readily. “She is absolutely dependent on your service. I am sure she will make you most welcome, in one aspect or another.” He made a small gesture with his two hands that might have suggested the Hourglass, but surely did not.

Norton remained uncomfortable with his visitor. He was sure Satan had an ulterior motive. But there was no point in antagonizing so powerful an entity. So he continued to make conversation, wishing Satan would either get to the point or leave.

“We must all do the best we can in our offices,” Satan continued blithely. His capitals and noncapitals could actually be heard; he did not use them for Incarnations as a class, even when he was included in their number. “We are all, in fact, artists, shaping our duties into monuments of accomplishment. I am always pleased when I am successful in extirpating the evil from a soul that would otherwise have been lost. That is, of course, what we do in Hell; we travel the avenues of last resort in dealing with the intransigent cases.”

“Uh, no doubt,” Norton agreed uncomfortably. He was
aware that Satan was proselytizing; what bothered him was the fact that the arguments seemed to make sense.

“I understand you lost a loved one,” Satan said sympathetically.

“She’s in Heaven now,” Norton said. He didn’t want to discuss Orlene with Satan, either. He felt that Satan’s attention would somehow sully her memory.

“I trust you are aware you do not have to be alone,” Satan remarked. “Here in Purgatory there are many souls, male and female, and all are eager to improve their balance by serving the Incarnations. Allow Me to demonstrate the possibilities.”

“No need,” Norton said quickly.

“No problem, sir. Just let Me summon your downstairs maid—” Satan snapped his fingers, and suddenly the maid was there, dustcloth in hand, her hair bound in a kerchief. She looked startled. “No, no, that outfit will never do,” Satan said in the manner of a kindly uncle. Abruptly her clothing changed, and she was garbed in a fetching evening gown. She was considerably more shapely than Norton had realized. “Oh, yes, the hair,” Satan said, and the kerchief was replaced by a tiara studded with flashing diamonds. “Maid, would you like to serve your master in a more personal capacity?”

The girl looked down at her lovely outfit and touched her shining hair. “Anything my master wishes,” she agreed.

“Look, I have no desire for—” Norton protested, though he was privately intrigued by this exploration.

“Oh, my, I nearly forgot,” Satan said. “Of course you don’t want the aspect of a stranger, for you are not a promiscuous man these days.” And the maid changed form and became the precise likeness of Orlene in her most vibrant health.

Startled, Norton stared. Orlene had never looked better!

“We can tailor her personality, too,” Satan said. “I like My art to be thorough. She can be, in every material and social respect, the object of your interest.”

“But—but she’s not the one I know!”

Satan squinted at him. “In what manner have you known her, other than appearance and personality?”

“I—I just know this one is different!”

“Does it matter? She will serve you equally well. Perhaps better, for she has Eternity to gain by a successful performance.”

Disconcerted by the perfect likeness and the plausibility of Satan’s argument, Norton could only stammer: “But she isn’t—the one I—it’s just not the same!”

“Isn’t it?” Satan frowned benignly. “It has been said that man does, woman is. Yours is the performance that matters; she needs only to be its object. Try her, Chronos; I’m sure you will be pleased.”

“Try her?”

“I am sure you would not wish Me to assault your ears or hers with the vernacular description, especially since the same interaction can be described more precisely in polite language. I am, as I mentioned, at heart an artist; I appreciate the qualities of language. I have little sympathy with prudishness
per se
, but much with beauty. She can assume another form if you prefer. There is no deception here, only an effort to alleviate discomfort.”

“Any form she assumed—
I
assume would represent damnation for me,” Norton said uneasily.

Again Satan flashed his winning smile. “I see you remain cautious. I assure you that damnation is not so readily come by, my dear associate. You will neither rise to Heaven nor sink to Hell until your term in office is done. As an Incarnation, you are largely immune to changes in your status, and what you do or do not do with any willing woman is irrelevant.”

“But with a soul in Purgatory, a mere spirit—?”

“All are tangible to one another and to Incarnations here. This is not Earth, where spirits can not freely go.”

Norton shook hs head. “This is not the type of pleasure I care for.”

“Ah, you will get over that soon enough. Ultimately, every living person is dedicated to his own pleasure.”

“You’re right,” Norton said. “I do remain suspicious
of your motive. You are seeking to corrupt me, and I’m not sure I can afford to believe anything you say.”

“Well, I am rightly called the Father of Lies,” Satan said equably. “I do take a certain modest pride in the quality of My artifices, and many mortals find them sufficient.”

The scoundrel was proud of it! Norton was disgusted. “Well, if that concludes your business here—”

“Almost,” Satan said, not rising. He made a trifling gesture, and the maid resumed her own form and scurried from the room.

“So it wasn’t just a social visit?”

“There is one minor favor—”

“Why should I do you any favor?”

“Well, it is a very small one, and I am prepared to pay rather well.”

Payment for a favor! He had been through that with Gawain! “What can you offer another Incarnation, aside from temptation to mischief?”

Satan studied him, and now his eyes had the same disturbing intensity Norton had noted in the eyes of Fate. “I understand you like to travel, Chronos.”

“Yes. I suppose that was the main reason I took this office, so I could travel in time. Once I learn to do it precisely, I’ll—” He broke off, not wanting to say too much to the Prince of Evil.

“To see your woman again in life,” Satan finished smoothly.

So he couldn’t hide this from Satan! Did that mean it was an evil notion? Chilling thought! “What is this favor?”

“Merely to conduct one of My minions on a brief tour.”

“Why can’t he travel himself? I hardly know my way around Purgatory yet.”

“A tour in time. Only you can arrange that.”

That was right—he was now the Master of Time. He did not want to do any business with Satan, but he was curious. “To where in time?”

“Just a few years, for a few minutes. He won’t do any harm; he’ll just talk with a man.”

“Just talk? To threaten him?”

Satan shook his head. “My dear Chronos, I do not threaten people! That is counterproductive. This is actually, though I blush to confess it, a good deed.”

“A good deed—by the Prince of Evil? How can you expect me to believe that?”

“You can verify it for yourself. There is no secret here; all is open. This man stands to lose the chance of his lifetime. My minion will merely put him on the right track.”

The chance of a lifetime—that was what Gawain had told Norton himself, when broaching the matter of the office of Time. But what chance would Satan offer anyone? “Why should you do a good turn for any mortal?”

“As I mentioned, sir, I do believe in order. My office can not function without order. This mortal man’s good fortune will contribute to a lifetime of order in that aspect of reality.”

Norton shook his head. “You will have to do better than that, Satan! You must have a dozen other ways to promote order on Earth, without traveling in time to help any one person. Why do a favor for a mortal?”

“Well, Chronos, you are in a position to verify it directly. I will give you the coordinates so you can go there alone and see that this man will suffer no ill, only good, as a result of My minion’s intercession. Only when you are completely satisfied on that score need you actually conduct My minion there. That is fair enough, isn’t it?”

Grudgingly, Norton nodded. “But I don’t know how to travel precisely in time yet. I mean, to a particular point in human events. Lachesis took me on one trip, but we had her threads for guidance.”

“I will be glad to assist you in this,” Satan said. “I have only the friendliest possible intent. You have merely to select on the calendar the specific date and hour and to will your Hourglass blue, with a preset stop at that spot. That is a fine supernatural instrument; it will obey you implicitly. Once there in time, you must negotiate the geographical distance.”

“By walking? That will limit my effectiveness.”

“Chronos, you are the Incarnation of Time. That means you have a certain practical control of space, too, for time and space are linked. You can travel anywhere on Earth you wish and to the colonized planets, too.”

Norton shook his head. “I don’t see how, unless you mean by using conventional transport facilities.”