Aloha from Hell

“It was Mason’s idea. He issued senior officers ‘interesting’ souls so we might become more acquainted with human minds. The one he gave me was a bore, so I put him in storage.”

The soul is in something like a Hellion suit of armor welded inside an external cage. I put away the na’at and start slicing through the bars with the black blade. With a little force the bars come off easily. When I get the front clear, I start slicing off the armor.

“Just out of curiosity, where’s General Semyazah these days? I know he’s on the run, but I also know you have spies. Where’s he hiding?”

“You admire the fool, don’t you? ‘Semyazah, the lone Hellion general brave enough to hold out against Mason Faim, the dread usurper of Lucifer’s throne!’ ”

“I just asked where he was. I don’t need a campaign speech.”

Mammon pulls himself around so we’re looking straight at each other again.

“Remember the private joke I mentioned? I’ll share it with you after all. When you so subtly threatened me with Tartarus, I laughed because that’s where your hero is. Semyazah is Tartarus’s newest and I daresay most famous guest.”

If Mammon is telling the truth then the game is over. There’s no game at all. With Semyazah out of the way, another general will have claimed his troops and there won’t be anyone to stop Mason from launching his war. It was a long shot that Semyazah could do anything anyway. Now even that slim chance might be gone. Mammon could be lying, but the first thing I have to do is find Alice. I don’t have time to run all over Hell checking out Mammon’s bullshit. I wonder what happens to a non-damned soul if it’s killed in Hell? If I can’t find Alice in time and Mason murders her again, will she end up in Tartarus? Or worse, she might be saved from Tartarus but end up too far from Heaven to find her way back, and wander in the Limbo between them forever.

“Who killed Semyazah?”

Mammon shakes his head.

“That’s the best part. You inspired Semyazah’s fate. He wasn’t killed. Mason said that we should send him to Tartarus alive, and so we did.”

What a bunch of gold-plated idiots we are, Hellions and humans alike. Somewhere God is laughing at us. We’re his private joke with himself. Why didn’t he just wipe us all out and start over? Maybe it’s more fun watching us run around bouncing off the walls.

“What? No more jokes, Sandman Slim? Here’s an idea. Run back to your cozy home upstairs. Drink. Watch movies. Fuck whomever it is you fuck these days and let the grown-ups get on with their work. We’re really awfully busy.”

I cut the last few pieces of armor off the soul and pull him out of the cage. There’s a metal restraint around his head holding a leather bit in his mouth. I slice through the lock and the restraint falls to the floor. I go back to Mammon, leaving the soul to rub his aching jaw.

“When is it happening?”

“When is what happening?”

I want to kick him in the throat but I don’t want to kill him, so I just give him the toe of my boot in the jaw.

“That was me being nice. The next thing that happens is I start cutting off the parts of your body you can still feel, starting with your fingers.”

Mammon rubs his jaw, considering his answer. When he answers, his voice is lo yo voice w.

“The troops are already massed. All that remains is to agree to the final details of plans and bring the troops under a single command. From there, Mason will lead us to Heaven.”

“Do you really think you’re going to win this time? Heaven has the high ground and they know you’re coming. Lucifer will have told them everything.”

His eyes narrow when he smiles.

“Lucifer is far from omniscient.”

“So you have a secret. What is it?”

“What is what?”

I grab Mammon by the collar and toss him across the room onto his desk.

He waits until I’m close before he attacks.

I’m walking around the desk when he moves his arm in a very particular way. He’s angel-fast, but I recognize what he’s doing because these days I can do it, too.

Mammon swings his Gladius back over his head, trying to slice me in half as I come around the desk. I dodge it just in time. Feel it burn through my coat sleeve.

He swings again but I’ve already manifested my own Gladius. I block the strike. Mammon is flat on his back, not a prime defensive position. When I block his next shot, I slip my Gladius under his, shift my weight, and flip his sword over and down onto his chest. He screams and I stab my sword into his fighting arm as far as it will go. I hold it there until his arm blackens and his Gladius goes out. Hellions smell bad at the best of times. Burning Hellions are like a bonfire in a garbage dump.

He lies on the desk blinking at the ceiling.

“You still with us, General?”

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds his burned arm with his good one. I don’t have time for him to lie around and go into shock. I open the bottle of wine, lift him up, and hand him the bottle. He takes it in his good hand and drains half the bottle. I pick him up off the desk and sit him in his leather executive chair.