by Holly Lisle
Chapter 75
"Deee-lightful, my little chickadee. Grovel a bit more, and kiss my feet... marvelous. Now bark like a dog... good girl. You're learning." Glibspet smiled gleefully. "Now tell me how much you love Master. Come on, sweetcheeks. Let's hear it... ah, perfect!"
Next, Glibspet leaned back and enjoyed watching her clean the floor of his office with her tongue. It was ironic really. Linufel had the Pit coming, and she knew it, but she'd signed the contract, and there was no way out of it. So first she had her three months of serving him. No matter how bad he made it, and he intended to make it pretty bad, that would be a vacation compared with what happened when she ended up back in Hell. He would have thought she'd have been more grateful...
He had enough money in his bank account to give Bill Gates wallet envy. He was only taking cases for fun at the agency, and he was having fun. He'd gotten a promotion to Devil First Class, Grade-B for his work in tracking down Averial... he'd gotten extra points for thoroughly screwing over three Fallen and for actually finishing the job off with a nice death and the horrendous guilt of the police officer who had caused it.
The only damper on his total satisfaction was Mindenhall. Craig hadn't ended up in Hell after all—that damned "love" rule. He would have been promoted to Grade A if the little bastard hadn't been in love with him when he died—God refused to allow anyone who truly loved to burn in Hell.
But there was always next time.
Linufel finished cleaning the floor. Glibspet decided he could think of a dozen other interesting things he could have her do with her tongue. His smile grew broader.
"Come to Master," he said.
He didn't like the way she smiled at him as she crawled over.
Chapter 76
Gabriel got the feeling he was being watched. Actually, he'd had that feeling for about a week, ever since he'd sent Miramuel and Remufel down to Hell for their transgressions. There had been a couple of times when he'd almost been on the verge of reconsidering his decision, but he'd always come to his senses in time. If he went soft on them, all of Heaven would go to Hell... in a manner of speaking.
He went over the day's prayer requests, shaking his head in annoyance at some of the stupid things people actually asked for. As if God had time for ponies and puppies and winning numbers on lottery tickets. The more he dealt with humans and their idiocy, the more he couldn't see why God bothered with any of them.
He read the last of the prayer requests he'd taken responsibility for, and with a sigh, dumped the whole lot into the disposal chute. Not a worthwhile request in the bunch.
Behind him, he heard a throat clearing.
He turned to discover God watching him. God... back from vacation at last, and in considerably different shape than the last time he'd seen Him... Her...
Tanned, pneumatic, wearing an incredibly small bikini and big, bleach-blond hair, carrying a surfboard of all things, God leaned against one of Heaven's pillars.
Gabriel felt a twinge of guilt. None of those prayer requests had been major... but in all honesty, he'd never seen God dump one down the chute, and God didn't have a bunch of saints picking up 99/100ths of the incoming load.
None of them had been major...
"We need to talk," God said, and suddenly He was back in his Christian form again. White robes, sandals, long beard, glowing visage.
Not a good sign. Gabriel nodded. Said nothing.
"You've had a week to reconsider your actions, and you never did."
The prayer requests weren't the big issue, evidently.
"Punishment for physical interference into the mortal realm and for fraternization with the enemy, Almighty. I sent them to be with Lucifer."
"They were trying to rescue their beloved friend."
"I didn't think that mattered, All-Glorious Magnificence. They... broke the rules."
"Not my rules." God wasn't smiling. Not even a hint of a smile. Gabriel began to feel distinctly queasy. "In all the time since the Rift, how many souls have you seen me send to Hell?"
Gabriel considered. There were a lot of souls down there. A whole lot. But when he thought about it, he couldn't think of a single instance in which God had sent anyone to Hell. Well, they had to get there somehow. The fact that he wasn't doing his own dirty work seemed pretty immaterial. Still... "None, Almighty."
"But... ?"
"But new souls go there all the time."
"Indeed they do. Not by my choice. I would choose to have all my children with me. Some souls choose Hell because they hunger for evil, while others choose it because they feel they cannot be good, and they insist in believing that because I am God, I must require absolute goodness."
"We haven't exactly discussed this before, Your Magnificence. Don't you?"
"Why would I create fallible creatures, then demand perfection of them? I'm no sadist. I ask of them only that they learn while they're alive, and that they love, and that they try to leave life a little better than they found it. And even if they fail at that, I am always willing to forgive. I'll give them other chances... as many as they need. Hell was Lucifer's choice, and Lucifer's doing. He wanted his own kingdom... and he's made a mess of it."
Gabriel nodded. Evidently sending Miramuel and Remufel to Hell wasn't going to be quite the hit he'd anticipated. "Then why haven't you shut Hell down?"
"Even Lucifer has free will." God glowered. "As do you. I was hoping that as you considered the fate of your colleagues, your heart would soften, and you would restore them to Heaven. I gave you as much time as I could, but in good conscience, I can't let them suffer any longer in the hopes that you will learn something."
A blinding flash of light and a clap of thunder rocked Heaven. When Gabriel could see again, he found Miramuel and Remufel huddled between him and God, still weeping and screaming. His gut knotted tighter.
"It's over," God said, and his voice was as gentle as a lover's. "You're safe. And you alone of all the angels have taken the opportunity I gave you."
It took them a bit, but they quit shuddering eventually. Wiped their eyes. Grabbed each other and shouted for joy. Gabriel felt the weight of his guilt beginning to crush him. They weren't asking about the test, though, so he did.
"I gave all of you an opportunity to stretch. Left you in charge, no rules or regulations, told you to keep the place going. Out of all of you, only they took the initiative to go down to try to rescue one of our lost angels."
Remufel and Miramuel looked up, and Remufel said, "You knew about that?"
"From the moment you acted. Even when I'm on vacation, I'm still omnipotent. You shouldn't have intervened directly in the lives of mortals, but you managed to get some good results, and you didn't give your presence away to anyone except for one particularly pernicious devil. And everything you did, you did for love."
God glanced at Gabriel for a moment, and the archangel shrank inside. "Reasons do matter," he said softly. "And rules are never rules. There are always exceptions, if you love."
He turned back to Mir and Remmy. "You've moved beyond anything you can accomplish as an angelic soul. You've discovered a love that stands up to fear, that risks both rejection and the possibility of annihilation. That encompasses sacrifice," he said.
He touched Miramuel first, then Remufel. "Go, now... back to Earth. You'll each find an infant waiting to be born, and when the time is right, you'll find each other again. You're ready to be human."
Miramuel stood, tears running down her cheeks. "I can't go," she said.
God smiled slightly, glancing over her shoulder to Gabriel. "Why not?"
"Averial is still in Hell. I can't go if she's there."
"You see, Gabriel?" God said. "Transcendent love, which embraces sacrifice." He looked back to Mir. "Averial is on her way here now. She won't see you on Earth in this lifetime... she'll be waiting here for the arrival of a future soulmate of hers. Jack will be getting here in about fifty years. But you'll see each other again."
He kissed each of t
hem. "You did well, my children," he said. "Now go on. And remember that I love you."
When they were gone, Gabriel said, "I made mistakes, Almighty. What will happen to me now?"
God looked at him, surprised. "You'll stay the same as you were," he said, his voice full of sadness. "You'll stay the same as you are, until you learn to be more."
Chapter 77
"Morning, Jack," Jan said as he hobbled in to the suite. Three weeks had gotten him used to the cast and crutches, but moving any distance was still a chore.
"Morning, Jan. Anything important shaking today?"
"We've got some prospects for that pilot's position lined up," she said. "And there are the usual bullshit forms in your in box."
"Oh, the thrill of executive power," Jack said sourly.
"You're doing better than most," Jan told him.
"Yeah, right." He hopped into the private office (he still thought of it as Rhea's office), struggled over to the desk, and sat down. Rhea and the lawyers had done a perfect job on the paperwork. Jack Halloran now controlled one hundred percent of Celestial Technologies, and was responsible for keeping food on everyone's table. He was learning to play the suit game well enough to get by, and he would have to be a moron to run the company down now. Besides, bitterness and hurt and emptiness aside, he knew that what he was doing mattered.
He keyed up the Beach Boys on the stereo, and the plaintive harmonies of "In My Room" filled the air. He reached for the stack of résumés Jan had left on his desk. Celestial definitely needed pilots. He didn't ever want to do that again.
He was deep into a résumé remarkable only for its tedium when a faint musical tap sounded from one of his desk drawers. He looked up from the paper and frowned. The sound had come from the third drawer down; he didn't have anything in that one yet. Certainly nothing that went ting. He reached down and slid the drawer open, wondering if the cockroaches had gotten musical.
His ring was inside—Rhea's ring. It sat on a small, exquisitely folded note that smelled of roses, which sat on top of what looked like another résumé. He lifted the note first and opened it.
"I'll be waiting," it said, "and in the meantime—"
It seemed to end there. No. He could make out the shadows of writing on the other side. He turned the paper over.
"Light is not made less for shining through two windows.
Love again, my love."
He looked at it in bemusement. He picked up the résumé that had lain beneath the note. He studied it, first in disbelief, then in growing delight. It read "Captain Natsu Forrester, USAF, Ret."
Jan's voice over the intercom snapped him out of his reverie. "Jack," she said, "the first interview is here. A... Captain Forrester?" From the puzzlement in her voice, he could tell she didn't remember setting up the interview... but he was willing to bet the name was down in her appointment book.
"Send Captain Forrester in," he said. "I've been expecting her."
Then he looked up. "Not evil anymore, are you, my love?" He began to chuckle. "But you'll always be wicked."
THE END