Azzie saw that the imps were beginning to perform satisfactorily. He only had another two hundred hours to work on his shift (days in the Pit are long) until he could get his three hours’ sleep before beginning again. He was just about to return to that comfortable – relatively comfortable – spot he had just abandoned when a messenger came running up.
“Are you the demon in charge of this Pit?”
The questioner was a violet-winged Efreet, one of the old Baghdad crowd, now mainly working courier service since the Evil Powers of the Upper Council liked their gaily colored turbans.
“I am Azzie Elbub,” our demon said. “And yes, I am in charge of this particular subpit.”
“Then you’re the one I’m looking for.” The Efreet handed Azzie an asbestos document inscribed in letters of fire. Azzie drew on his gloves before handling it. Such documents were used only by the High Council of Infernal Justice.
He read, “Know all demons by these presentiments that an Injustice has been done; namely, a human has been brought to the Pit before his time. The forces of Light have already made remonstrations on his behalf, since, if he were to live out his allotted days, he would still have time to repent. The betting against this taking place is on the order of two thousand to one, but the chance exists, albeit but mathematically. You are therefore requested and ordered to take this man out of the Pit, sponge him off, and restore him to his wife and family on Earth, and there remain with him until he has adjusted sufficiently to get his own living, since otherwise we are responsible for his upkeep. After that, you will be released to normal demonic duties on Earth. Sincerely, Asmodeus, Head of North Pit Section of Hell. P.S. The man answers to the name of Thomas Scrivener.”
Azzie was so elated that he embraced the Efreet, who stepped hastily back, adjusting his turban and saying, “Take it easy, buddy.”
“I was just excited,” Azzie said. “I’m going to get out of this place at last! I’m going back to Earth!”
“A disappointing place,” the Efreet said. “But to each his, her, or its own.”
Azzie hurried off to find Thomas Scrivener.
He located the man at last in row 1002WW. The Pits of Hell are laid out like amphitheaters. Every location can be traced. A master plan exists. In practice, however, what with the imps carelessly throwing people onto piles and the piles falling over onto other piles, people’s locations in the Pits are known only approximately.
“Is there a Thomas Scrivener here?” Azzie asked.
The mound of sinners at location 1002WW turned away from their discussion and looked at him, those whose heads were faced in the right direction. Instead of repenting their sins, they considered Pit time a social occasion, a chance to get to know neighbors, exchange opinions, have a few laughs. Thus do the dead continue to deceive themselves, just as in life.
“Scrivener, Scrivener,” an old man in a middle position said. He turned his head toward his armpit with difficulty. “Sure, he’s here. Any of you fellows know where Scrivener is?”
The request was carried up and down the great mound.
Men turned from their preoccupation with sports (there are plenty of sports in Hell, but the home team always loses-until you bet against them) to say, “Scrivener, Scrivener, sort of a tall skinny loony fellow with a cast in one eye?”
“I don’t know what he looks like,” Azzie said. “I assumed he answered to his name.”
The mound of people mumbled and coughed and discussed it among them, as humans, living or dead, are wont to do about anything. And if Azzie had not had a demon’s preternatural hearing, he would not have heard the faint squeak that came from somewhere deep in the pile.
“Hi there! Scrivener here! Was somebody asking for me?”
Azzie directed his imps to pull Scrivener out of the pile, but gently, without tearing off any of his appendages. They could be replaced, of course, but the procedure was painful and apt to leave a psychic scar. Azzie knew he was supposed to bring the man back to Earth intact so that Scrivener wouldn’t create trouble for the Dark Forces for reaping him prematurely.