Hell. Reincorporation Ward. A translucent Centipede Demon #509 appears. The iguana-headed ward demon behind the front desk smirks.
Tch, tch, tch 509. Looking a bit peaky, my gal. Now, what's happened to you?
I was cleaved in twain by a flaming sword.
The iguana-headed ward demon picks up the receiver from the forked cradle of the 1930s rotary phone on his desk, dials an extension, murmurs a brief message.
Angel incident. Centipede 509.
The ward demon hangs up.
Her nibs will come by for a chat, my gal.
He resumes scratching with a quill pen in his ledger. About an hour later Beelzebub strolls in, followed by six of her praetorian guards. The centipede has curled into a spiral on the floor, but vaults erect like a spring at her approach, bows deeply as Beelzebub confronts her.
509. Report.
Lord, all I remember is coming through the floor to Daji's party. I saw an angel bound to a table. Some sort of orange liquid splashed over 19. He screamed and melted. And then a flaming sword. I was discorporated.
Beelzebub gives the demon a long impassive stare. She had not been informed of any party event. 509 struggles to not squirm in fright under Beelzebub's unblinking gaze.
Guards. Bring her to my office.
She flicks a finger, and 509 is reincorporated. Although clamped by three stout iron bands, their flanges tightly bolting her body to a long iron pole. Beelzebub turns and exits. Disposable demons scuttle up and struggle to hoist the pole. 509 hangs limp. Three guards march in front, three to the rear. Hissing whispers rustle goes through the ward after the little parade has departed down the corridor. Things are not going to go well for 509. And where is 19? Why has he not also appeared for reincorporation? Could he have been . . . extinguished? The horror, the horror . . .
Hell. Beelzebub's office. Three guards stand either side of the massive entry portal. The disposable demons have been dismissed, but lurk out of sight in the corridor, listening hard. 509 lies on the floor, still shackled. Beelzebub reclines in her executive chair, feet on her desk.
Tell me about this party of Daji's.
Lord. That angel she had seduced. She invited Shiroishii to help her torment it. Also 19 and me. And Xrzgyx from the telephone office. It was to be an all-night affair. 19 and I were a bit late.
You saw 19 melted by a spray of orange liquid. You saw an angel bound to a table. Think very carefully. What else did you see?
The centipede twitches a bit as she struggles to recollect the scene.
Lord. There was orange liquid splashed about the floor and over the angel. And two piles of rags, I think.
What kind of rags.
Lord, I don't know. Cloth, maybe. Not paper. Something shiny and green. And maybe black. I'm not sure. It all happened very quickly.
What color was the flaming sword.
Lord, it was blue. Almost white.
Had you received authorization to attend this event?
Lord, I did not realize I needed authorization.
Your mistake. Guards. Summon the disposable demons. Escort 509 to the sulfur spa.
Beelzebub flicks a finger, and 509 is transformed from a centipede into a slimy humanoid eel.
You are demoted. When you're released from the pools, report to Dagon for your reassignment as file clerk.
Beelzebub addresses the assembled guards and disposable demons.
Take her away.
The eel-demon knows better than to inquire how long the spa session will last. Hangs silent and limp from the shackles as the disposable demons once again perform freight duty and the guards resume their escort.
After the parade has marched back down the corridor, Beelzebub extracts her phone. Calls the telecommunications office.
Where is Xrzgyx? . . . Last seen when? . . .
Beelzebub disconnects and gazes thoughtfully off into the distance. When Daji reported yesterday, she was wearing a stylish Chinese jade green silk jacket.
Hell. Satan is relaxing in his whirlpool of ice, sipping what appears to be tequila with salt. The cocktail glass is enormous, as he's in his gigantic multi-horned lava-skinned form. Beelzebub, standing on a cliff edge above, is a tiny black-winged doll in comparison.
Beloved. Something interesting has happened?
Lord. I realize it is cocktail time. Forgive me. It seems likely that two major demons and two lesser have been extinguished. Daji. Shiroishii. Centipede 19. Xrzgyx.
Beloved, you need never ask forgiveness. Extinguished, you say. Holy Water?
I don't know what else it could be. Centipede 509 survived. Described the liquid as orange.
Orange, eh? Odd.
509 was discorporated by a flaming blue sword.
Hm. Hastur said that was the color of the angel Aziraphale's new weapon.
Yes, Lord. And of course the angel and Crowley know all about Holy Water. I have summoned the London disposable demons to report tomorrow morning. They have been ordered to surveille Demon Crowley. They had better have something useful to tell me.
What in Hell were Daji and Shiroishii doing?
Lord. According to 509, they had arranged a torment party for the Angel Hekla. Daji claimed to have seduced this angel. As Crowley seduced Aziraphale.
You permitted this torment?
No, Lord. Daji and Shiroishii planned it without consulting me.
Disrepectful of them.
Indeed, Lord. May I speak frankly?
Beloved, you are my strong right arm. You alone have always been observant and wise. Speak as you will.
Thank you, Lord. I cannot say I will miss Daji and Shiroishii. The old demons have become too stiff-necked and set in their ways. I selected Daji for an Earth mission to insinuate herself into Demon Crowley's operation. She alone seemed to have some minimal understanding of what he is doing with human communications inventions.
Such as shaking down Heaven for one hundred million pounds of human currency.
Yes, Lord. An impressive prank.
Well said, Beloved. Giving credit where it is due. I know you do not think highly of my little pet snake. Did Daji succeed in attaching herself to him?
No, Lord. He sidelined her off to Shanghai. No great effort on his part. She naturally wanted to return to Asia. But it was her claim to have seduced an angel that of course I found most interesting. Being old school, she must have assumed that tormenting an angel would be an initiative that would please me. Had she not been so arrogant as to act without permission, I would have informed her quite differently. As you know, my utmost priority is to discover how the Demon Crowley and his angel are permitted to experience Divine Ecstasy. Tormenting and discorporating a willing angel was stupidly old-fashioned.
Lucifer sighs. The hot wind ruffles the surface of the freezing lake. Beelzebub's wings flutter and save her from being thrown of the cliff. She re-alights on her ledge.
Lord. Daji's attitude is typical of our hierarchy. They have learned nothing in six millennia. The humans have outstripped us in despoiling Earth and perpetrating evil deeds. The downpour of damned souls is overwhelming us. It's all we can do to torment the depraved and stoke the lesser damned into the recycling furnaces. Our Earth missions are now largely listening outposts. That little snake Crowley is the only one who seems to understand that times have changed. The rest of the Dark Council suffer from mental arthritis!
Beelzebub is so angry she morphs into her damselfly form. Gets control and is once again a female Genghis Khan in an iridescent teal silk suit and sable cap. With black insect wings.
Indeed, Beloved. Your thoughts mirror my own. I am concerned that the humans will destroy Earth before my son Adam decides to assume his power.
Yes, Lord. And Demon Crowley is a slim reed for your son to rely upon for assistance.
Perhaps not, Beloved. If Crowley and his angel are indeed the ones who have extinguished two arrogant arch demons, that is a major feat. If the event is presented as an object lesson, it might be useful in shaking things up down here.
Yes, Lord. A demonstration of why we need to change direction?
Precisely, Beloved. In truth, The Almighty seems to have maneuvered us into becoming her garbage souls disposal facility. We are proud and mighty demons. Surely we can do better.
Yes, Lord. The Heavenly Host has become slow and complacent. We must outmaneuver them for dominion of Earth. If we cannot wreck the place, if there is to be no Armageddon, we must bring Earth and its humans under our will. Adam must rule.
I will await your report on intelligence from our little Crowley observers, Beloved.
Yes, Lord.
Recognizing her cue to exit, Beelzebub bows deeply and flie away through the corridors leading back to her office. The glowing incandescent wave preceding her sends demons and damned scattering. Hell is aquiver with gossip. Demons Malacoda and Thompson are busy interviewing every source they can find.