On a Pale Horse (35 page)

“How can you compensate me for the loss of the woman I love!”

“My dear sir, My organization specialize in compensations! If it is the delights of the distaff flesh you desire—” Satan gestured offscreen, and a truly beautiful brunette joined him. “My dear, show My esteemed colleague your offerings.”

The woman smiled dazzlingly and unzipped her blouse. A phenomenally full and rounded bosom emerged, untethered by a brassiere.

“She’s a succubus!” Zane said, catching on.

“Naturally. I could provide you with your choice of the human beauties of history, most of whom now reside
in my domain and any of whom would be overjoyed to delight you eternally. But you would have to come to Hell, for they can not return to Earth in their original bodies. I assume you prefer a creature who can cater to you in life. These highly specialized creatures, the succubi, can entertain you anywhere.”

Zane was silent, taken aback by the sheer audacity of the offer. Satan thought he would accept a female demon in lieu of Luna!

“This one, for example,” Satan continued blithely as the woman-shape continued to strip. “Note her fairness of face and fullness of feature. You can’t match that on Earth.”

Zane found part of his voice. “But—”

“And that’s not all,” Satan said quickly. The succubus was stepping out of her skirt. She turned about as Satan touched her arm, showing her plush buttocks and thoroughly fleshed thighs to the eager close-up camera.

“But that’s not—”

“Ah, but it
is
,” Satan said enthusiastically. “It is eternal. Living women inevitably change and fatten and age, but a she-demon’s flesh never atrophies. You need have no concern at all about degradation of form.” He slapped her right flank, and the ripple of flesh proceeded in measured stages across the right buttock, through the left, and down the thighs before reversing like a wave at the edge of a pool and returning to the point of impact. “Eternal,” the Evil One repeated softly.

“You don’t understand,” Zane said, keeping his voice steady, though his eyes did feel somewhat bugged out. “I don’t want a voluptuous succubus. I want Luna.”

“I can provide you the form of Luna,” Satan said. “Form is the least part of a woman.” He gestured, and the demoness misted and re-formed, turning to face the camera in the exact likeness of Luna. It was eerie, for no detail differed. The hair was just as brown and flowing, the eyes just as gray and deep. If Zane didn’t know better …

“But her mind—” he said doggedly.

Satan frowned. “There, I confess, is a problem. Intelligent conversation does require a mind. Most men prefer their females without minds of their own.”

“All of which is beside the point,” Zane said, gaining confidence. The Prince of Evil couldn’t deceive someone who was alert—he hoped! “I love Luna for herself, not just her form. She has done some very generous things, very brave things, and is a wonderful person—and she is going to stop you from interfering with the world, twenty years hence. That’s why I will not remove her soul from life.” Zane was afraid he was saying too much, but couldn’t help himself.

“A commendable attitude,” Satan said mildly. “One should always promote the welfare of one’s situation and one’s friends. That’s enlightened self-interest.”

Zane was surprised. “You agree?”

“Of course I agree, Death! I am the Deity of Self-Interest, after all. But one does have to be careful how one defines the term.”

“It’s not copulating with succubi!” Zane shot back.

“That depends on one’s viewpoint. You really should try it before condemning it. Your girlfriend did.”

“That’s a lie!” Zane snapped with sudden heat. But he realized as he reacted that he should not; Satan was cleverly pushing his buttons, pushing him around emotionally, getting him off balance. Too much of that, and the Devil would have him reacting exactly as he wanted. Zane reminded himself that the Hot Smoke dragoness would not have started to consume Luna if she had not been physically virginal. He hardly needed to argue the case with the Devil.

“Naturally I am the Father of Lies, a title I carry with pride,” Satan responded equably. “Truth is only as each person sees it; there is no absolute standard of integrity. That is why I often find it necessary to depend on reason to convince skeptics of the validity of my case. Pay attention to My logic, and you will have no need of further verification.”

“Maybe,” Zane said shortly, distrusting this.

“You choose to interpret Luna’s physical virginity as the whole of her purity. Are you sure you are not deceiving yourself thereby?”

What a silver tongue the Devil had! He was personable and agreeable, and presented his case in positive terms.
It was hard to resist his charm. Zane had somehow anticipated a glowering, smoky horror-mask issuing terrible threats. Yet, he reminded himself, the evil was the same, regardless of the image it projected.

“I know she was raped by one of your demons,” Zane said. “I know that rape was psychic, not physical. I know it imposed a heavy load of sin on her soul. But I also know she did it to try to learn magic to help her father. On the record she may have much sin, but as a person, she is good.”

“Unquestionably, and very intelligently answered,” Satan said, as if addressing a precocious student. He patted the succubus on her bouncy bare bottom, and she moved offscreen. “There is nothing quite as commendable as the sacrifice of one’s soul, one’s own immortal soul, for the good of another, however that good may be defined. By that measure, you yourself are a much better man than your record indicates. Luna is certainly a rare creature.”

“Then why are you hounding her?” Zane demanded, though this was mostly rhetoric; he knew the answer and had already charged Satan with it. But he had to say something to help himself resist the tide of gratitude that threatened to undermine his cause. Satan had complimented him, as well as Luna, for a matter that was fundamental to Zane’s self-image. Satan had justified Zane’s treatment of his mother. How much easier it would have been to fight a ravening monster!

Satan laughed again, sounding like the most pleasant of companions. “My dear Incarnation, I am not concerned with good. Evil is My bailiwick! It is My Eternal duty to define and chastise the evil in man. Surely you agree this is a necessary chore?”

“Yes, but—”

“There is an enormous amount of evil in the world,” the urbane figure continued persuasively. “Left to itself, that evil would soon corrupt the entire society, like milk going bad. It has to be disciplined; the evildoers have to be punished, and to know that punishment is inevitable and in strict accordance with their offenses. In fact, the entire society has to be advised of the consequence of
evil action. Only that way can man as a species be improved.”

This was a compelling rationale! “But Luna, you admit, is not fundamentally evil! Why should she be punished?”

“My dear associate,” Satan said with another warm and tolerant smile, as a benign father might address a bright but errant child. “We agree she is not evil, and of course she is not to be punished! She is to be sent directly to Heaven, where she belongs. Surely you do not object to that!”

“To Heaven?” Zane asked blankly. “You agree to—?”

“I only want what is Mine. Luna belongs to God.”

Zane scrambled for mental footing. “But it is not her turn! Why schedule her to die prematurely?” Again he was pushing Satan to confess the truth; would he do it?

“If one must go early in order that a hundred be fairly treated—would you do right by the one and wrong by the hundred?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Death, I have analyzed the future course of man in some detail. I comprehend trends that might be considered too subtle for mortal minds. Not for
your
mind, of course; you are a perceptive person. But a detailed narration would become tedious. In essence, I perceive a nexus approximately twenty years hence that is crucial to the fate of the human species. By taking advantage of that particular situation, I can change the course of human history. I will be able to purge an enormous amount of evil with a minimum of disruption. Unfortunately, one well-intentioned but misguided person obstructs that opportunity. It grieves Me to deal firmly with that person, who is perfectly justified in her stand, according to her more limited comprehension; but the justice of the many must take precedence over the justice of the one. The equation may seem cruel in the particular instance, and unfair in the specific case—but in the larger context, the values reverse. This is the reality it is My eternal duty to honor.”

And Luna was that one. Were it not for that, Zane
might have found himself persuaded. “Father of Lies, I don’t believe you.”

Still Satan took no offense. “You are correct to be cautious. I like your independent thinking. I am sure a person of your perspective will come to the appropriate conclusion.”

“I doubt you can convince me to send the woman I love to Eternity before her time.”

Satan shrugged. “Timing can be a matter of convenience, Death. Do you feel privileged to have had your own situation cynically manipulated by others, including the time and manner of your departure from your original life?”

The Evil One was bearing down harder! “I’m not really pleased about that,” Zane admitted, knowing that honesty was by far the best course. He could hardly match Satan’s proficiency in lying, even if he wanted to. Any lie, even a mild self-deception, would play into Satan’s hands. “But I think that, in this circumstance, it was the necessary—” He paused, realizing the implication. The welfare of the one, sacrificed for the benefit of the many! He was playing into the Devil’s hands anyway!

“Circumstance makes puppets of us all,” Satan said sympathetically. “You function excellently in your office; I can tell you that sincerely, though perhaps God would not. It has been decades, perhaps centuries, since a Death has placed conscience above convenience, and the role is overdue for reinterpretation.”

Zane tried to resist his pleasure at this flattery, mistrusting its source. “I dare say it is bringing me rapidly closer to you.”

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Satan laughed, like a jolly Santa Claus. “Isn’t that the irony! The rules are so fixed that those few who do the right thing must pay for it with their souls! God would jet green flame if He knew! But frankly, He is not paying attention.”

Zane was taken aback by this open denigration of God. But what else should he have expected from God’s archenemy? “You say you’re getting good souls in Hell?” he asked, amazed.

“And losing evil ones to Heaven,” Satan agreed, slapping his knee. “Gums up the works something awful. But that’s the way of bureaucracy and ossified standards; some poor souls always slip through the cracks.”

This was the Father of Lies, Zane reminded himself. All or nothing or any ratio between could be falsity. It was dangerous even talking to Satan, for soon the boundaries of good and evil became fuzzed by eloquent misleading.

“I see you remain in doubt,” Satan said, leaning forward with apparent sincerity. “That is quite understandable. Your associates have maneuvered to put you in an awkward position. You have problems in your office, and are inhibited by rules that have lost their relevance to the contemporary scene. Likewise I, in My office. It behooves us to cooperate where our offices overlap. This can greatly facilitate our respective duties and benefit us both.”

“I see no benefit!”

“Oh, but you have not given yourself the chance to see it,” Satan said smoothly. “Let Me give you a tour of My demesnes.”

“A tour of Hell? I don’t—”

“It can be arranged, Death. You have merely to depart your physical host for a time. You have My personal assurance that you will return in good order.”

“The assurance of the Father of Lies!” Zane cried, repelled. “Now you are trying to get
me
into Hell! I refuse to risk my soul that way!”

“A man who will not risk his soul to save that of the woman he loves, perhaps does not deserve her love in return,” Satan remarked.

That stung! “I just don’t care to risk it on a bad bet. I don’t see that I need to examine your case at all. Not personally in Hell. What I want is a review of the merits of the scheduling of Luna’s death. If you can arrange for the review to be soon, I’ll welcome that.”

Satan rolled his eyes. “Have you ever tried to hurry a bureaucracy?”

There was that. “Anyway, I think I’ll just sit tight right here until that review.” Zane believed he had Satan over
a barrel, for the review would surely expose evidence of Satan’s cheating and free Luna from the sentence.

“I am not certain you comprehend My problem,” Satan said. “Hell is geared for a large turnover. Thousands of souls enter each hour for processing. You have abruptly stopped the flow. That gives My initiation cadre no work to do.”

“The respite should be good for them,” Zane said, smiling unsympathetically. “They can sharpen their pitchforks, or whatever.”

“On the contrary! Those little devils must be kept occupied constantly. Who in Hell finds work for idle devils to do?”

Zane visualized idle devils rampaging in Hell, overturning racks and littering torture chambers. That would certainly be a problem!

“Consider this,” Satan said. The television picture changed to the news report of an accident. An airplane had experienced heavy weather in a cold northern region and crashed in an isolated spot. Fifty passengers were trapped inside. “These people are freezing to death,” Satan said. “There is no hope of rescue, yet none of them can die while Death remains on strike.” The camera panned on the wreckage, then showed an interior view, where several passengers had critical injuries and others were in dire straits. This was a no-survivors type of crash.

“Do you really intend to let these victims suffer indefinitely, rather than free their souls for Eternity?” Satan asked soberly. “Most of this batch is slated for Heaven, so there is nothing to be gained by delay except undeserved misery.”

Zane had not considered that aspect. Had he been deliberately avoiding the obvious? Of course there would be horrendous suffering! Death was no burden to a terminally injured person; it was relief. He was the first person to defend the right of anyone to die on schedule. He had, technically, committed murder in the defense of that right. Now he was responsible for a worse denial than that performed by any hospital. Satan had struck at another vulnerability, with the acute perception of his evil
nature. It was not one person suffering now; it was a multitude!