Heaven Nor Hell

by Paul Greenway

  ‘Make it 99.’ Ashleigh shivered several times.

  Todd peered past the black-curtained stage as Jordan ambled into the bar. He was dressed in a grey jumpsuit, wrapped in something red, shiny and bulky, and topped with a white helmet featuring extended, wobbly ant-like feelers. He stared at Ashleigh in disbelief. ‘You got married? But I thought you and I–?’

  ‘Hey, she's engaged to me!’

  Jordan turned his attention to Todd. ‘What the hell are you?’

  ‘A man has to make a living, especially a poor Uni student who enjoys a beer and gave up mega-millions from a slice of the bloody super-bloody-drug. I happen to be promoting a rather fine range of convenience food.’ Todd stared back at Jordan. ‘And what the hell are you?’

  ‘I had to leave a Sci-Fi convention. And the Daleks are not happy.’ Jordan nodded towards the adjacent table.

  A shiver ran down Ashleigh’s spine. ‘Why did you have to bring them along?’

  The Four Nerds’ despondent demeanour under the robotic costumes changed as they waved excitedly at Ashleigh.

  ‘Because they cannot be left alone … OK, Ash, why did we have to meet here so urgently?’

  ‘He said we had to.’

  ‘No, I didn't,’ said Todd.

  Ashleigh gnashed her teeth. ‘You sent me a message saying that we had to meet now. And to pass on the message to Jordan.’

  ‘No, I did not!’

  ‘Then, who did?’

  The three students gazed past the pool tables as Special Envoy sauntered in. Dressed in a Stetson hat, denim jeans and a brown leather vest, he was closely followed by Agents 1, 2 and 3 outfitted as Indians – with bows and arrows, not turbans and saris. The agents dispersed to three corners of the bar for security purposes as Special Envoy approached their table.

  Todd tried unsuccessfully to put on an effeminate voice. ‘Well, hello there, cowboy.’

  Special Envoy growled. ‘I was at a fancy-dress party at an embassy.’

  ‘… with all your buddies from the group called GROUP, no doubt.’ Ashleigh adjusted her puffy sleeves. ‘Isn't it time you told us everything? Or are you afraid?’

  Special Envoy scoffed as he belched. ‘Of course, we're not afraid. We – the group called GROUP – control you. Everyone. The world. The universe. Everything on it, and everything in between.’

  ‘How nice,’ mumbled Ashleigh.

  ‘We decide which wars should start, and decide the where, when and why. And we decide when – or if – the wars should finish.’

  Todd sighed as he adjusted his tights. ‘So, we’ve been wasting our time protesting against the government.’

  ‘We also control them. The PM and his ministers, and everyone in the Opposition parties. All directed by me in the G Division.’

  ‘We know G is for Government. And there's also Religion, Oil, Unilateralism and Pharmaceuticals.’

  Reasonably garrulous from the whiskeys imbibed at the embassy bash, Special Envoy nodded several times at Ashleigh. ‘Yes, Unilateralism is our most profitable division. It works closely with Oil, making sure that wars continue over something as frivolous as what you pour into a hole in your car. And the U Division works very, very closely with the R Division. It's so ironic that religion has always been the number one cause of hatred and war. So, obscene amounts of money are spent by people and organisations, which are controlled by our Religion and Government Divisions, on weapons sold to them by our Unilateralism Division.’

  ‘And you no doubt help both sides – whatever the country, organisation or religion.’

  ‘We are a business, Ashleigh. We don't take sides.’

  Todd wanted to reach the bar counter before the Happy Hour finished, but was wedged behind the table by his cardboard outfit. ‘So, why are we still involved in all this shit?’

  ‘The P Division continues to wield far too little power and profit. Pharmaceuticals have nothing in common with oil, and we've given up trying to link it with religion.’ He jiggled his head with genuine gloom. ‘The Vatican just won't budge, so there's not enough power and profit in medicines for contraceptives and abortions. And as much as we tried, we just couldn't logically start a war over medicines.’

  ‘Until now.’

  Special Envoy beamed at Ashleigh. ‘Have you seen the news? People all over the world are fighting each other over access to the Eternal Drug. And within months governments will start wars over the production and sale of the most valuable and wanted drug ever created in the history of mankind.’ He swivelled angrily towards Jordan. ‘Which is why we need that bloody formula!’

  ‘We don't have it.’ Todd quickly realised he wasn’t able to cross his arms in defiance.

  Special Envoy was momentarily flustered. ‘But, but that's why you sent me a text message and wanted to meet.’

  ‘No, I bloody well did not!’

  ‘Then, who the bloody well did?’

  Ashleigh tilted her head to the left of Todd’s curly locks. ‘Isn't that ..? Isn’t she selling ..?’

  Collectively, they turned around as quickly as they could in their various outfits. Wearing a matching apron and cap, Dawn approached their table with a tray strapped to her neck full of hotdogs, buns and bottles of sauce. ‘This is just a fill-in until I get my old job back.’

  ‘Don't be stupid. You're at least 42. Tiffany is half your age and weight.’ Ashleigh offered her best Dawn-ish grin. ‘Tiffany is the New Dawn.’

  Dawn scowled as she peered around. ‘Why are you all here, anyway? And dressed like that?’

  ‘I thought you liked baked beans.’

  Dawn glowered at Todd before shuddering at the Four Nerds leering at her. ‘And what the hell are they?’

  ‘You didn't send us text messages by any chance?’ Todd thoroughly inspected the contents of Dawn’s tray.

  ‘Not likely. My phone's been disconnected.’ Groaning with relief, Dawn plonked the tray on the table. ‘Hotdogs anyone?’

  ‘I’ll take one with mustard.’

  ‘And make mine with mayo.’

  Everyone turned towards Dr Olsson and Dr Mitchell, both in white coats and with stethoscopes strapped around their necks.

  Dawn curled her lip. ‘Is that the best outfits you could come up with?’

  Special Envoy extended his right arm, which was wrapped in denim and dripping with tassels. ‘Let me introduce you, everyone, to the joint CEOs of the Pharmaceutical Division of the group called GROUP.’

  ‘What?’ Ashleigh was flabbergasted.

  ‘We were,’ said Dr Mitchell. ‘We both resigned.’

  ‘What?’ It was Special Envoy’s turn to be flabbergasted.

  Dr Mitchell turned to Dr Olsson and caressed her arm. ‘Since Julie and I became lovers ...’

  ‘What?’ Todd and Jordan out-flabbergasted everyone as they choked on their hotdogs.

  ‘… and adopted a child, we decided to dedicate our lives to destroying whatever was irresponsible, unaccountable and uncontrollable.’

  ‘So have I.’

  ‘And me.’

  Everyone swivelled around as well as they could while Charlie and Dom approached their table. Walking behind them at a resolute distance, Edna, Betty and Cyril were soon debating whether to sit at the table with the Four Nerds, who were still recovering from seeing two lesbians.

  While busily sliding hotdogs into buns, Dawn glanced at Charlie. ‘And you're not even wearing any stupid outfits.’ She peered past the video-game machines as the two nuns entered in complete convent attire. ‘But those costumes are impressive.’

  The nuns grimaced at the Four Nerds and decided to stand nearby instead.

  Todd tapped his uncle on the shoulder. ‘But why are you dedicating your life to ..?’ He paused. ‘Hang on. Shit! You mentioned way before, at the beginning of all this, something called the group. But I didn't think you'd ...’ He watched as Elongated Eyelashes, Breast Implants and Cracked Fingernails entered the bar with notepads and pens primed. They, too, collectively shu
ddered as the Four Nerds stopped leering at the lesbians and nuns and began ogling at them.

  Charlie explained. ‘I agreed to be a guinea pig for the Deep Blue drug, and so did Dom. I didn't have heart problems, but I do have inoperable cancer. So they …’ He raised an arm towards Drs Olsson and Mitchell. ‘… convinced me to devote the rest of my short life to destroying what I helped create and helped thrive.’

  Kathy strolled towards the table, placed a bottle of beer in front of Todd, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. His grateful grin vanished as soon as he noticed Layne approaching with a voice-recorder. He was followed by Steve the Sports Reporter and Danny the Weatherman, holding hands with each other, and Tiffany, who was gazing endearingly at Layne but being leered at by the Four Nerds.

  ‘Um …’ Ashleigh examined everyone who had entered the bar. Squeezed along, or standing near, the main table were Todd, Ashleigh, Jordan, Special Envoy, Kathy, Dr Olsson, Dr Mitchell, Charlie and Dom. At an adjacent table with empty chairs, the Four Nerds were scoffing hotdogs. And standing at a short distance away were Layne, Tiffany, Steve the Sports Reporter, Danny the Weatherman, Elongated Eyelashes, Breast Implants, Cracked Fingernails, the two nuns, Edna, Betty and Cyril. All were surrounded by Agents 1, 2 and 3 and numerous others who wore raincoats and looked familiar. ‘Why are all these people here?’

  ‘They all want to know what the hell's been going on.’ Jordan grinned as Asian Makeup Girl sauntered towards their table. Ashleigh stared in disbelief as the girl flung her arm around Jordan’s shoulder. ‘I tried your advice, Ash. Kind, gentle, sincere, and all that shit.’

  Alluring Cleavage and Bulging Waistline from the Medical Centre also ignored an offer of seats at the Nerds’ table.

  ‘But, but how do all these people know we're here?’ said Ashleigh.

  Jordan snuggled closer to Asian Makeup Girl. ‘Probably from the live online streaming I set up with my video camera and laptop on the stage over there before you arrived.’

  ‘And from all the Facebook updates and tweets I've been sending.’ Todd checked his phone with satisfaction.

  As Dr King squeezed in next to Drs Olsson and Mitchell, Special Envoy thumped the table. ‘So, what about the bloody formula?’

  Everyone shuffled a little closer as Dr Mitchell answered in a gentle voice. ‘There is no formula.’

  ‘What?’ Everyone shuffled back a little as Special Envoy bellowed. ‘But there was a code!’

  As Drs Spiky Hair and Hopeful Moustache rushed in, Dawn sneered at their white coats and stethoscopes. ‘Those outfits have been done already.’

  Dr Olsson continued. ‘The code wasn't a formula. It was a message in case we came to any harm. I expect you worked it out?’ She turned towards Jordan, who nodded. ‘Do you have a copy?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Jordan, as Asian Makeup Girl hugged him tighter.

  ‘Please read it.’

  Jordan extracted a sheet of paper from his back pocket and stared at it.

  ‘… out loud.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jordan glanced up as Mature Male and Young Female Newsreaders entered, followed by Bob the Director, as well as a cameraman and someone else holding a microphone on a boom. ‘There were only 64 letters. But I know all the abbreviations used when sending texts and tweets, so I was able to fully translate the message.’ Jordan coughed a little nervously as virtually everyone in the Uni Bar stared at him. ‘It says, um … There can never be a drug that brings people back to life or keeps them alive. But our lie was eagerly accepted by the world. We did this to destroy the one industry that needs an afterlife, and to crush the other that would thrive if there was an Eternal Drug.’

  Special Envoy bellowed. ‘What the hell does all that crap mean?!’

  Everyone had to again lean closer as Dr Mitchell explained. ‘What you called the Eternal Drug only makes people go into a coma. A coma so deep and with such a low pulse and low breathing that doctors would believe the person was dead.’

  ‘So,’ said Ashleigh pensively, ‘you injected the drug to Charlie and Dom on the morning of the day they died to put them into the coma ...’

  ‘Correct,’ said Dr Olsson.

  ‘… and injected them again at their funerals to bring them out of the coma.’

  ‘Holy shit!’ Everyone had to lean back again as Special Envoy roared.

  ‘And the same with the nuns.’ Ashleigh paused so everyone else could consider all the revelations. ‘But that means Charlie, Dom and the two nuns never really died. So, they couldn't have gone to Heaven or Hell.’ Drs Olsson and Mitchell continued grinning and nodding as Ashleigh carried on. ‘So, none of them could've seen angels or tunnels or demons or lights because they never really died.’

  The two nuns immediately opened their mouths and stared at each other. Inexpressibly relieved, they rushed to the bar counter, where the Mother Superior had been leaning, and ordered a jug of Bourbon and Coke.

  Dr Olsson continued. ‘But, as we hoped, the damage has been well and truly done. The four most powerful, rich and corrupt industries on the planet have been so damaged that they'll never fully recover.’

  Special Envoy was demonstrably appalled. ‘Oh God! No!’

  ‘Most of the major religions – particularly the Catholic Church – have imploded. All the major pharmaceutical companies are now under investigation. And the insidious activities of the government, particularly the Prime Minister, have been revealed. All of which leaves the War Machine impotent, with nothing to fight for.’

  Special Envoy was now even more horrified. ‘But, but Government, Religion, Pharma-a-ceuticals and War are w-what makes the group called GROUP a, um, group.’

  Jordan creased his forehead. ‘But what about O for Oil?’

  Special Envoy continued to stutter. ‘We, we were g-going to dis-um-band the O Division anyway. Even the g-group called GROUP c-can't k-keep lying to the world about electric, um, cars, which aren't expensive and have been a-available for twenty years. And there's no profit in wind, sun and water. And controlling the environment was even beyond us.’

  Todd closed one eye to ponder. ‘But without the O Division, you'd be the group called GRUP.’

  ‘And we were going to change the acronym.’ Special Envoy became progressively more confident. ‘You see, Unilateralism will be renamed Military, as it should, and Oil will be replaced by a new division representing the single most powerful industry imaginable.’

  ‘Food?’ said Ashleigh

  ‘Water?’ said Todd.

  But Jordan knew the answer. ‘Information.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Special Envoy was now animated. ‘If we control Information – the Internet and everything on it – we will ultimately control everything else. And no-one will ever be able to stop the group called–‘

  ‘–GRIMP?’ said Jordan.

  Todd spread out the fingers of the one hand not clutching Kathy’s bottom. ‘If you kept Government, Religion and Information, but dropped the Military Division you could call yourselves GRIP.’

  Closing one eye helped Jordan to concentrate. ‘Or if you could get some power and profit from the Environment you could be the group called GRIPE.’

  Todd was excited enough to unclamp Kathy’s derriere and raise his other hand. ‘Or if you dropped the M Division and spelled Pharmaceutical with an F–‘

  ‘But I thought …’ Jordan stopped, desperately hoping Asian Makeup Girl hadn’t heard him.

  ‘–you could be called GRIEF.’

  ‘Don't be stupid.’ Special Envoy spoke with unrestrained scorn.

  ‘Oh.’ Todd and Jordan were instantly deflated.

  ‘There will always be a Military Division. Oil will run out, religions may implode, the Internet may be replaced with something else, and Governments could collapse. But there will always – always – be the need for war …’

  ‘How nice.’ Ashleigh offered her finest impression of Dawn’s drawl.

  ‘… and we've come up with the perfect acronym.’

 
; Epilogue

  So what happened next?

  Ashleigh was offered her own prime-time chat show on Channel Nine. Determined to include hard-hitting news, without reports about celebrities or diets, or any gratuitous endorsements, the show was shifted to the 11.30pm slot after one week, and axed after two.

  Jordan and the Four Nerds have now dedicated their lives to stopping the group that used to be called the GROUP from controlling the very thing that actually controls their own lives: the Internet.

  Todd wrote a book about everything that happened called “Heaven Nor Hell”, but it was rejected by every known agent and publisher for being too “ridiculous” and “unrealistic”.

  Dawn still sells hotdogs and tells customers who don't care who she used to be. Her revengeful plot against Tiffany is well advanced.

  Because of intense media pressure caused by the “Drug-Gate” scandal, the Prime Minister needed scapegoats, so Special Envoy was sacked. But with the generous bonuses and superannuation payments also offered, Special Envoy established a nationwide business using his numerous contacts within the underworld. And especially popular among pre-schoolers at the Envious Envoy Child-Care Centres are the lessons in self defensive and weapons training run by Agents 1, 2 and 3.

  Drs Olsson and Mitchell hoped to win seats at the upcoming federal election. They formed an anti-capitalist organisation which they called the ORGANISATION, but it quickly disbanded. They could not possibly compete against any other political party – all of which happily received monstrous political donations from businesses within the five largest industries on earth.

  The two nuns left the Church after their convent went into receivership and photographs of them sleeping in the nude mysteriously appeared on the Internet. They now operate a business, recently renamed as “Nuns with Buns”, along Hindley Street which sells specialist items to discerning adults.

  And, sadly, Charlie quickly succumbed to cancer. To the horror of his wife Edna, sister Betty and son Cyril, he planned to donate everything he owned to the organisation called the ORGANISATION and to All Nerds, No Birds. But everything was immediately seized by tax officials under the strict supervision of a group known to almost no-one.