see the Seventh Circle. It would really shake my faith.”
“Paging Satan, Prince of Darkness,” the amplified voice started over again.
“That’s not something I really care about right now,” Satan said.
“But I think there’s someone on Seven who could help you,” Mary said.
“They’re suicides,” Satan said. “They couldn’t even help themselves.”
Mary was not a good liar, but she gave it her all.
“One of my Bishops told me that he knew of a plan by Heaven to destroy Hell,” she said.
Satan stopped and stared at her.
“He...he said that he had prayed and it had been revealed to him by the Archangel Gabriel who told him that he had a part to play in the destruction of Hell.”
“What part?” Satan asked.
“He committed suicide,” Mary lied. “There were some altar boys and he, um, was not very priestly with them. But he said that was part of the plan, to get him into Hell. He was going to be a double agent. No, wait. A mole. A sleeper agent?”
Satan regarded her for a minute. He was just desperate enough to believe her bizarre story. After all, there had been stranger coincidences. He thought back to George W. Bush’s memoirs, Decision Points, which he had recently finished. Right now, Satan needed to be The Decider too, and so he made up his mind.
“Okay, we’ll stop at Seven really fast and pull this Bishop out and then we’ll take him with us to Five. I want to see the look on Nero’s face when I show him that maybe I’m still a step ahead of the game.
He rushed towards the dirty, decrepit monorail that was just pulling into the station on the far side of the Mall, and Mary unclenched her sweaty hands and ran after him.
As expected, it was the worst monorail ever. The track vibrated like it was going to shake itself apart and the monorail flung itself from side to side like a lunatic in a padded cell. The seats were slashed and dirty, the lights flickered, the heat was turned up so high you could barely breathe and a suspicious yellow liquid kept rushing from one end of the car to the other whenever the monorail slowed down or sped up.
The intercom was all crackle and almost impossible to understand.
“Second Circle: the Wanton and Lustful. All Members of Parliament, Senators and Representatives please disembark here. Third Circle: the Gluttonous. All those wishing to be mauled by Cerberus, the three-headed dog, this is your final destination.”
“We don’t actually have a three-headed dog anymore,” Satan said, falling into the role of tour guide. “This is an old recording.”
“Mm,” Mary said, her mind on other things.
“It ate too much so we had to replace it,” Satan said.
Mary didn’t say anything.
“Don’t ask me what we replaced it with because it’s a little bit embarrassing.”
Mary was silent.
“Alright, you’re twisting my arm,” Satan said. “A three-headed rabbit. It’s much smaller, so it eats way less.”
“Mm-hm,” Mary said.
“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Satan said. “But you work with what you have.”
Mary didn’t respond.
The car was packed with silent, miserable souls. Satan and Sister Mary sat squeezed in next to each other in silence. After a while, the recording slurred to life again.
“Fourth Circle: the Avaricious and the Prodigal. Connecting stop for Fortune and her Ever-Turning Wheel. Fifth Circle: the Irascible and the Sullen. Connecting trains for the River Styx Reclamation Project and Blue Line Trains with connections to the Iron City of Dis.”
“Two more stops,” Satan said. “Are you sure this Bishop will be there?”
“He’ll be there,” Mary said.
“What’s his name?”
“It’s Bishop...Tutu.”
“That doesn’t sound like a real name to me,” Satan said.
“Sixth Circle: Heretics.”
Most of the passengers cleared out at this stop. When the doors closed Satan and Sister Mary were almost the only ones left on the train.
“It’s a popular stop,” Satan said. “The way the rules are written technically most people are heretics, so we’re always having overcrowding problems down here on Six. Great food, though. There’re some wonderful Indian restaurants and a lot of good dim sum. So I’m told.”
The monorail jerked out of the station and then suddenly pointed its nose straight down.
“Now entering Lower Hell, all sins of violence and maliciousness. Next stop: Seventh Circle, the Violent.”
The monorail plunged directly down, making a beeline for the center of the Earth. Mary was reminded uncomfortably of the elevator plunge and she gripped her seat. At least it would all be over soon and she would be safe in Heaven.
The grove of the suicides was