Hell's Angels

by Paul E. Martens

"You're disgusting." The way Percy cringed as he said it, the way he wrinkled his nose and grimaced as I walked - okay, stumbled - into the office, made me believe him.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've really gone to Hell."

Percy's eyes widened. "That's not something to joke about, Zadkiel. Regulations require that we remain pure and ... and ... well, angelic. Just because we've been assigned here doesn't mean we have to descend to their level.

I looked at him to see if he'd punned on purpose, but he was as oblivious to humor as ever. He was also blindingly clean and white. With my hangover, even without it, for that matter, he was painful to look at. No doubt it was just as painful for him to look at me, albeit for different reasons. My robe was dingy and smudged with who knew what. My wings were a mess, dirty and disheveled. I couldn't remember where I'd left my halo.

Percy and I constituted the Heavenly side of the Heaven/Hell Liaison Office. The room itself was not much bigger than a monk's cell. It was also white, but it was a soft white, with cloud-like carpet and gentle lights, air-conditioned by a perpetual Heavenly breeze. I don't know if it made me Homesick, or if it kept me from being even more Homesick than I was.

I shuffled over to the coffee machine. I imported the coffee from Home. As far as I was concerned, forcing the damned to drink the coffee in Hell was going too far. Sulphuric acid baths, fine, but don't inflict the coffee on them. "You've been here, what? A couple hundred years?" I said to Percy on my way back to my desk. "Wait until you've been here a while before you criticize me." I sat down with something between a sigh and a grunt.

He brought a stack of files over and dropped them on my desk. "I've already gone through these. You just need to sign them."

"Uh huh." I took a gulp of coffee and started reading.

"I told you, I already reviewed them."

"Okay." I kept reading.

"Fine. Waste your time. See if I care."

"Okay." I had no problem with the first five or six cases. They obviously deserved Hell. The fact that they bothered to appeal was just additional evidence against them. Percy's plan was to make me bored so I would just rubber stamp the rest. He sat at his desk and pretended not to watch me.

"No." I said.

"You can't mean that!" He jumped out of his seat and sprang over to my desk. "He went to church regularly. He tithed. He performed good works. He had no vices. Why shouldn't he go to Heaven?"

"Because he's an asshole. Every time he helped somebody he made them feel like an insect. The only reason he never asked for anything in return was because, for him, feeling superior was its own reward."

"But ... but ... he tithed," he said again, weakly.

"Because he thought he could buy his way in. The guy's a jerk, Perce. The Boss doesn't want people like that hanging around, wasting his time schmoozing and brown-nosing."

"How would you know what He wants?" he mumbled.

I ignored him and went back to reading the files. From the way he kept watching me without watching me, I knew he was hoping to slip another one by me. I found it and reached for my stamp.

"You can't!" he shouted. "You can't possibly let her in. She didn't even file the appeal for herself."

"No, she didn't, and I would think that fact would tell you something. If Lucifer is recommending that she go to Heaven, don't you think it's for a reason?"

He nodded. "Because she's a bad influence."

I stared at him. "A bad influence in Hell? Percy, do you ever listen to yourself?"

"But she makes people uncomfortable."

I shook my head. "That's the whole point of this place, you moron." I sighed. "Look, ask yourself who she made uncomfortable."

He looked blank.

I didn't grab him and shake him. "People like that smug bastard you tried to sneak past me, that's who. Sanctimonious pharisees who play by rules other people just like them made up because they saw something in it for themselves." I held my head in my hands and looked at him. "How did you get assigned here, anyway? Where were you before Hell?"

He looked down at his desk. "I was a Guardian," he said quietly.

"Ah," I said.

"It wasn't my fault!" he blurted. "I was trying to save him from himself. He kept stuffing himself with all these fatty foods and smoking and ... Well, I was supposed to be his Guardian Angel, wasn't I? Wasn't I supposed to protect him?" He looked at me, his eyes begging me to tell him he was right.

"He committed suicide to get away from you, didn't he?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

"And he wasn't the first one, was he?"

He didn't want to, but eventually he shook his head. "I was just doing my job. What's wrong with that?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. There was no point trying to explain it to him. Instead I asked, "Anything come in from Upstairs?" Despite the sign on the entrance, I still hadn't abandoned all hope that my request for a transfer would eventually go through.

"Oh. Yes. I almost forgot. There's an envelope from administration. Your 'friend,' Dave, delivered it. I haven't even opened it yet. I wanted to get through the files first," he added virtuously.

I wondered if it was possible to murder an angel, and what the punishment would be. I held my hand out.

After a second or two, he got up and brought the letter to me.

He stood next to me as I read it. Twice. Then again. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry.

"Well? What's it say?" Percy asked.

I held the letter out in his direction and he grabbed it.

"'Please be advised that a request for your re-assignment as minion to the Fallen Angel is currently under review,'" he read. "'Once a determination has been made, you will be advised further.'" He looked at me with wild surmise. "Wow! I hope you'll forgive me if I say I told you so. You can't play with fire and expect not to get burned. You can't lie down with dogs and not get up with fleas. You ...urk!"

I only wanted him to shut up, I really wasn't trying to choke him to death. Honest. I let him go and he retreated to his desk. I was ashamed that I enjoyed the fear in his eyes as he rubbed his throat and stared at me.

It had to be a mistake, some bureaucratic foul-up. I specifically requested a transfer back to Heaven. Only an incompetent cretin could have misread my memo. But surely no one like that could have a job ... I looked at Percy. Okay, someone like that could have a job like that. But what could I do about it?

One thing occurred to me immediately.

"I'm going to get a drink," I said.

"Oh, sure. That's going to get them to change their minds." Percy shut up and scampered when I turned back toward him with my hands reaching for his neck.

--------------

I headed for a cheerful little place called The Tavern of Doom. It was practically the only place I ever saw Dave, the Hell side of the liaison office. It was dank, dark and smelled like ... well, you don't want to know what it smelled like.

Now, it's true that the bourbon in Heaven is much better than the bourbon in Hell. There's no comparison, really. My mouth started watering at the thought of the smooth, woody flavor of Heaven's bourbon. But, for reasons known only to the Boss, you can't get drunk in Heaven. You can get drunk in Hell, though. Not the damned, as much as they might want to, though they can get absolutely brutal hangovers, but the working stiffs, the devils and demons. And me, of course; soon to be a devil or a demon.

I had a shot and followed it with a warm, watered-down lite beer that tasted like piss. It suited my mood perfectly.

"Hey, Zad. What's the matter? You look like Hell." Dave laughed his head off at his 'joke.' Dave was red, short and kind of round. He had stubby little horns and long fingernails. As usual, he was wearing checkered pants.

I waited until he put his head back on, then said, "As it happens, Dave, I don't feel like Hell. In fact, if you want to know the truth, I'm sick as Hell of Hell. But apparently what I think doesn't matter." I slammed down another shot and told him about the transfer.

"But that's great! There's a lot of stuff we can do that you can't, on account of your being an angel. Like, did you ever slowly rip open somebody's stomach with your fingernail and then shove hot coals in the hole? Or, sometimes we make somebody really, really thirsty and we hold out this frosty cold drink in front of them, just out of reach, and once in a while we take a couple of sips and smack our lips ecstatically, and we keep doing that for three or four hundred years, and then we finally let them have it, and it turns out to be acid. Ha! You should see their faces."

"I don't want to do that stuff, you idiot. I'm an angel. I want to go Home." I'm afraid I was kind of whining when I said it.

He grinned at me and tossed down some of his beer with every evidence of enjoyment. "Hell, Zad. This is Hell. I hope you don't think I'm gonna feel sorry for you." He looked at me a little more seriously. "But, since you're my friend, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll look into it for you, see what I can do."

"Really?"

He nodded,. "Sure."

By the time I went back to the office a few hours later, except for some imp bites on my ankles (if I wasn't an angel I would hate those little bastards), I was feeling pretty good. Until I got back to the office, that is.

Percy was trying my chair out for size, his feet up on my desk, one of my imported cigars stuck in his mouth, unlit. "What the H..." I started to say. "Wait a minute. Did you spray air freshener in here? Is that vanilla?"

He tried to leap up but got his wings tangled up and fell on the floor. He got to his feet, dusting himself off, eying me as if it was all my fault. "Yes," he said defensively. "Yes, it is vanilla. I thought I'd better try and improve the atmosphere around here." He paused and let a smug little smile creep onto his face. "What with the AIC coming for a visit and all."

"What? The Archangel-in-Charge? Coming here?" My stomach lurched as too much beer and bourbon tried to make a break for it. "When?" I considered the state of my robe and my wings with dismay and tried to straighten my halo, until I remembered I'd lost it.

"When?" he asked with feigned innocence. "Oh, I don't know. Any time now, I guess." He smiled some more.

"Oh, Jesus," I moaned.

"Oh no you don't. You got yourself into this fix. No fair using your connections to try and get out of it. Why don't you just take responsibility for your own actions for a change? Or maybe you should just do the right thing and acknowledge that you're not fit for this job and make room for someone who is."

"Meaning you, I suppose?"

"Well, if the AIC makes that decision, how could a humble servant of God like myself argue the point?" He tossed me a snicker and sat at his desk and started going through files, trying to look busy in case the chief walked in.

I couldn't just sit there waiting to be consigned to Hell for the rest of eternity looking the way I did. I left and went down to the pits.

There was a line for the lake of fire, but, not surprisingly, no one objected when I cut in. A quick dip in the lake, with a rinse in an acid pool, and my robe and wings were sparkling white again. I have to admit I preened a little at the oohs and ahhs of the crowd when they got an eyeful of me, but, the way I looked at it, I was doing them a favor by giving them a change of scenery. The gloom can be pretty unrelenting down there. I would have cocked my halo at them, but I didn't know where it was.

That was my next mission.

Dave was still in the bar.

"Have I seen your halo? Hmmm. Now let me see." He considered a while. "Weren't we playing ring-toss with it over at the Broken Man? Or was it The Helli Inn?"

I winced. I did vaguely recall something about my halo and a well-endowed she-devil. It was probably better that I not remember the details. "I've got to get it back. No offense, but I just don't think I could stand it if I knew I was going to be here permanently. I mean, sure there are certain advantages, a certain leeway in acceptable behavior that's amusing for a while, but it was only amusing because I believed it was temporary. Speaking of which, did you find out anything about that request for my transfer?"

He shook his head sadly. "It's not looking good, Zad. I guess you really impressed the Big Guy with your ability to carouse. Satan just felt that sort of talent was wasted on an angel." He smiled and slapped me on the back, "But, hey, look at the bright side, once you're a demon, you'll get genitals." He shuddered, "I've never seen what was so great about being an angel if you have to be asexual. Just wait, you'll love it. You wouldn't believe what some of the damned will do if they think you can ease their suffering for a few ..."

"Shut up. Are you telling me that Satan himself asked for me? Have I really fallen that low?"

He shrugged, "What can I tell you? You haven't exactly been anybody's idea of the perfect angel lately, have you?"

It was true. And I only had myself to blame for giving in to temptation. I was doomed. It didn't really matter if I got my halo back, I wasn't going to have it for long anyway. Shoulders slumped, head bowed, I started shambling out of the bar. I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"Hey! My halo! I thought you said ..." I turned around to Dave, but he was gone, leaving only a puff of smoke behind. I did kind of remember sticking in there to keep it away from the she-devil. And we didn't actually play ring toss, although I remembered that Dave had wanted to. I put the halo on and felt a surge of electricity and confidence surge through me. Clean robe, clean wings and a halo. I was still an angel. I could still beat this thing.

I marched back to the office and threw the door open with a crash. Percy almost fell out of his seat.

"Where have you been?"

"Quiet!" I said. "I'm still in charge here, for the time being. And as long as that's the case, we're going to show Heaven that we're the best team for the job. Now, what have you got for me?"

It was amazing what the exercise of a little authority did. Percy brought over a stack of files and placed them before me with a posture that implied he would have saluted if he'd thought it appropriate. He did stand next to my desk at parade rest.

"He's in," I said.

"What? You can't be serious! He's an atheist!"

"Well, he was, but ..."

"You've gone too far this time. This is outrageous."

"Okay, he made a mistake. But what else did he do that was so horrible? He helped people, not because he thought it would get him into Heaven, but because he wanted to. He wasn't greedy. He laughed a lot. He made people feel good."

"But he was an atheist."

"Oh, so what? Do you really thing the Boss cares if there was one less person shouting Hosannas at him? He's in. Period."

Percy looked like he wanted to argue the issue further, but then his eyes strayed to my chair, obviously looking forward to parking his own butt in it shortly. "Well," he said with a great pretense of disappointment "if that's your decision, that's your decision." He put an extra emphasis on 'your.' "I made my recommendation, you know where I stand. But, you're in charge. You're the boss. I just work here."

"I get it, Percy. It's my call, my responsibility. Okay? Your hands are clean."

"Well, ... I didn't mean ..."

I flapped a hand at him to shoo him away and started in on the other files stacked on my desk. It wasn't long before the AIC, Rastafel, showed up, with Dave in tow.

Percy rushed to the door, knelt with his head bowed and tried to kiss the Archangel's hand. "Your Eminence. Your Grace. Your Magnificence. Your ..."

Ras wrested his hand away. "Thanks, Percy. But please get to your feet. You're making a scene in front of the competition."

Dave was laughing so hard he busted a gut.

"Hey, knock it off" I said. "Do you know how hard it is to get demon bile off the furniture? Especially white furniture?"

He sucked it up but kept grinning. Ras wasn't all that successful at suppressing his own smile, either. He turned to me. "Zadriel, my friend. Good to see you. How are things going with you?"

I looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I guess that's what you're here to tell me, isn't it?"

He blinked at me. "What?"

Dave was rolling on the floor.

"Aren't you here about the transfer?"

He glanced over at Percy, who smiled a smug smile at him. "Well, yes, but don't you think it would be better if we discussed this somewhere more private."

Between Percy's smugness and Dave's guffaws, I had to agree I would prefer to be elsewhere while he broke the news to me, but I was damned if I was going to be pushed out of my office before I had to be. Actually, I was pretty much damned anyway, but you know what I mean.

"All right, you two, you heard him. Out. Both of you." Percy wanted to object, but Dave grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door. "You know, Perce, if you're going to be here a while, you ought to let me show you around, introduce you to a few people. I know this she-devil who ..." he was saying as the door closed behind them.

I turned to Ras. "Okay, just tell me why. I think you owe me that much."

"It's just better for everyone, Zad. Lucifer gets what he wants, we get rid of someone who, frankly, has always been something of a pain in our ass. Even Percy will be happy." He shook his head. "I just don't get why it should bother you so much. I'd think you'd be happiest of all."

"Why? Just because I take a drink now and then? Because I'm not always neat and clean with a crease in my robe and a spit polish on my halo? Because I don't let every windbag who brays his prayers at the top of his lungs into Heaven? Can't you give me another chance? Nobody even ever gave me a warning you weren't happy with me. Please, Ras, for old times' sake. Please don't transfer me." I was uncomfortably close to breaking down.

"What? You're not getting transferred. Percy is. He'll love it. He'll sit in judgment on people whose fates have already been decided and happily reject them. He'll think he's still working for us, but he'll really just be part of the torture for some of the damned." He looked at me. "Why did you think we would transfer you?"

"But the letter said ... Dave said ..."

"Look, you've been doing a great job down here. Don't think it hasn't been noticed. A couple more thousand years and I guarantee you'll be in for a big move Up." He gave my shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Now, let's go find Percy and let him know about his good news." He winked at me. He went to the door and opened it, finding Percy and Dave conveniently nearby.

"Percy, great news. Come on, walk with me and I'll tell you all about it." He put his arm around Percy and they walked away, though not before Percy shot me a look which implied he was sticking his tongue out at me.

Dave stayed behind, grinning like an idiot.

"So, you knew all along, didn't you?"

He nodded delightedly.

"Why? Why didn't you tell me? Why lie to me?"

His grin melted away and he walked up to me with his eyes downcast. He looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers and motioned for me to come closer. He leaned over as if to whisper, putting his hand up to my ear. "I'm a demon!" he shouted. "Of course I lied to you. It's what we do."

I jerked back, and got a fist ready to deck him. Then I snorted and shook my head. He was right.

"Fine, you're a demon. You still have to pay for your sins." I shoved him toward the door. "You're buying at least the first two rounds."