Del Rey, Lester – Hereafter Inc.

“Yes, Mr. Sloane, but—”

“Good. I’m taking that as a promise.” Phineas cringed. He hadn’t meant it that way; it couldn’t go through as a promise. “But—”

“No buts about it. Down there I figured you had as good a chance of being right as I did, so I didn’t open my mouth on the subject. But up here, that’s done with. No reason why you can’t enjoy life now.”

That was too much. “Life,” said Phineas, laying’ down his knife and preparing for siege, “was meant to give us a chance to prepare for the life to come, not to be squandered in wanton pleasure. Surely it’s better to suffer through a few brief years, resisting temptations, than to be forever damned to perdition. And would you sacrifice heaven for mere mundane cravings, transient and worthless?”

“Stow it, Phin. Doesn’t seem to me I sacrificed much to get here.” Then, at Phineas’ bewildered look. “Don’t tell me you don’t realize where you are? They told me they were sending a boy with the message; well, I guess he just missed you. You’re dead, Phin! This is heaven! We don’t talk much about it, but that’s the way it is!” “No!” The world was rolling in circles under Phineas’ seat. He stared uncomprehendingly at Sloane, finding no slightest sign of mockery on the man’s face. And there was the hole in the memory of sins, and the changes, and—Callahan! Why, Callahan had died and been buried the year before; and here he was, looking ten years younger, and hearty as ever. But it was all illusion; of course, it was all illusion. Callahan wouldn’t be in heaven. “No, it can’t be.”

“But it is, Phin. Remember? I was down your way to get you for overtime work, and yelled at you just as you came out of your house. Then you started to cross, I yelled again—Come back now?”

There’d been a screeching of tires, Sloane running toward him suddenly waving frantically, and—blackout! “Then it hit? And this … is—”

“Uh-huh. Seems they picked me up with a shovel, but it took a month to finish you off.” Sloane dug into the pie, rolling it on his tongue and grinning. “And this

is Hereafter. A darned good one, too, even if nobody meets you at the gate to say ‘Welcome to Heaven.’ ” •

Phineas clutched’at the straw. “They didn’t tell you it was heaven, then? Oh.” That explained everything. Of course, he should have known. This wasn’t heaven after all; it couldn’t be. And though it differed from his conceptions, it most certainly could be the other place; there’d been that bee! Teh, it was just like Callahan and Sloane to enjoy perdition, misguided sinners, glorying in their unholiness.

Slowly the world righted itself, and Phineas Potts regained his normal state. To be sure, he’d used an ugly word, but what could be expected of him in this vile place? They’d never hold it against him under the circumstances. He lowered his eyes thankfully, paying no attention to Sloane’s idle remarks about unfortunates. Now if he could just find the authorities of this place and get the mistake straightened out, all might yet be well. He had always done his best to be righteous. Perhaps a slight delay, but not long; and then—no Callahan, no Sloane, no drafting, or bees, or grating noises!

He drew himself up and looked across at Sloane, sadly, but justly doomed to this strange Gehenna. “Mr. Sloane,” he asked firmly, “is there some place here where I can find … uh … authorities to … umm—”

“You mean you want to register a complaint? Why sure, a big white building about six blocks down; Adjustment and Appointment office.” Sloane studied him thoroughly. “Darned if you don’t look like you had a raw deal about something, at that. Look, Phin, they made mistakes sometimes, of course, but if they’ve handed you the little end, we’ll go right down there and get it put right.”

Phineas shook his head quickly. The proper attitude, no doubt was to leave Sloane in ignorance of the truth as long as possible, and that meant he’d have to go alone. “Thank you, Mr. Sloane, but I’ll go by myself, if you don’t mind. And … uh … if I don’t come back … uh—”

“Sure, take the whole afternoon off. Hey, wait, aren’t you gonna finish lunch?”

But Phineas Potts was gone, his creaking legs carrying him out into the mellow noon sunlight and toward the towering white building that must be his destination. The fate of a man’s soul is nothing to dally over, and he wasn’t dallying. He tucked his umbrella close under his arm to avoid contact with the host of the damned, shuddering at the thought of mingling with them. Still, undoubtedly this torture would be added to the list of others, and his reward be made that much greater. Then he was at the Office of Administration, Appointments, and Adjustments.

There was another painted Jezebel at the desk marked INFORMATION, and he headed there, barely collecting his thoughts in time to avoid disgraceful excitement. She grinned at him and actually winked! “Mr. Potts, isn’t it? Oh, I’m so sorry you left before our messenger arrived. But if there’s something we can do now—”

“There is,” he told her firmly, though not too unkindly; after all, her punishment was ample without his anger. “I wish to see an authority here. I have a complaint; a most grievous complaint.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, Mr. Potts. But if you’ll see Mr. Alexander, down the hall, third door left, I’m sure he can adjust it.”

He waited no longer, but hurried where she pointed. As he approached, the third door opened and a dignified-looking man in a gray business suit stepped to it. The man held out a hand instantly. “I’m Mr. Alexander. Come in, won’t you? Katy said you had a complaint. Sit right over there, Mr. Potts. Ah, so. Now if you’ll tell me about it, I think we can straighten it all out.”

Phineas told him—in detail. “And so,” he concluded firmly—quite firmly, “I feel I’ve been done a grave injustice, Mr. Alexander. I’m positive my destination should have been the other place.”

“The other place?” Alexander seemed surprised.

“Exactly so. Heaven, to be more precise.”

Alexander nodded thoughtfully. “Quite so, Mr. Potts. Only I’m afraid there’s been a little misunderstanding. You see … ah … this is heaven. Still, I can see you don’t believe me yet, so we’ve failed to place you properly. We really want to make people happy here, you know. So, if you’ll just tell me what you find wrong, we’ll do what we can to rectify it.”

“Oh.” Phineas considered. This might be a trick, of course, but still, if they could make him happy here, give him his due reward for the years filled with temptation resisted and noble suffering in meekness and humility, there seemed nothing wrong with it. Possibly, it came to him, there were varying degrees of blessedness, and even such creatures as Callahan and his ilk were granted the lower ones—though it didn’t seem quite just. But certainly his level wasn’t Callahan’s.

“Very well,” he decided. “First, I find myself living in that room with the gray streak on the wallpaper, sir, and for years I’ve loathed it; and the alarm and telephone; and—”

Alexander smiled. “One at a time please. Now, about the room. I really felt we’d done a masterly job on that, you know. Isn’t it exactly like your room on the former level of life? Ah, I see it is. And didn’t you choose and furnish that room yourself?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ah, then we were right. Naturally, Mr. Potts, we assumed that since it was of your own former creation, it was best suited to you. And besides, you need the alarm and telephone to keep you on time and in contact with your work, you know.”

“But I loathe drafting!” Phineas glanced at this demon who was trying to trap him, expecting it to wilt to its true form. It didn’t. Instead, the thing that was Mr. Alexander shook its head slowly and sighed.

“Now that is a pity; and we were so pleased to find we could even give you the same employer as before. Really, we felt you’d be happier under him than a stranger. However, if you don’t like it, I suppose we could change. What other kind of work would you like?”

Now that was more like it, and perhaps he had even misjudged Alexander. Work was something Phineas hadn’t expected, but—yes, that would be nice, if it could be arranged here. “I felt once I was called,” he suggested.

“Minister, you mean? Now that’s fine. Never get too many of them, Mr. Potts. Wonderful men, do wonderful work here. They really add enormously to the happiness of our Hereafter, you know. Let me see, what experience have you had?” He beamed at Potts, who thawed under it; then he turned to a bookshelf, selected a heavy volume and consulted it. Slowly the beam vanished, and worry took its place.