"Rastaphur!" yelled the jackal-headed God, Anubis.

"Yes, sir," came the response from the plump little demon who was up to his arms in computer paper. The printer he was standing in front of was spitting it out at a fantastic rate.

"Why is it doing that?" said Anubis. He was seated behind Satan's desk, computer in front of him.

"I don't know, sir," said Rastaphur. He was madly windmilling his arms in an attempt to dig through the paper and get to the printer.

"But I just wanted to print one copy," said Anubis.

"Yes, I realize that, sir." Rastaphur finally found the off switch and flipped it. The printer stopped being an environmentalists' nightmare.

"Hmm . . . very curious," said Anubis, looking quizzically at the screen in front of him.

"There are obviously still a few kinks in the system," said Rastaphur apologetically.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," said Anubis sarcastically.

"There are always a few problems when you try to install a large-scale system like this," said Rastaphur, trying not to sound too defensive. "Look at the bright side, we can communicate far easier with the far realms. We can talk about torture techniques and punishments every day instead of waiting for the annual Demonic Guild meetings. We've even come up with an electronic bulletin board for exchanging recipes."

"And we've become completely distracted from our real mission."

"What do you mean?" asked Rastaphur, pausing in his task of gathering the reams of paper spilled onto the floor.

"How long has it been since you, personally, have tortured a damned soul?" asked Anubis in response.

"Well . . . a while, but I'm only one demon, surely the others are still---"

"Nope."

"You mean?"

"I took a walk yesterday, and you know what I saw? Four damned souls sitting around playing cards."

"No one was punishing them? The cards weren't blank or anything?"

"The playing cards were completely normal. These souls were having fun. Fun . . . in Hell!" said Anubis. His little doggy eyes were on fire.

"Where were the demons in charge?"

"They were clustered around a computer screen, chatting over the computer with some woman in Cincinnati."

"I see."

"These computers have ruined Hell," said Anubis. "Instead of making things more efficient, they've made things stop completely."

"It'll get better. The novelty will wear off."

"I hope you're right. Your digital thinking may have ruined our analog world."

"What about the Lords of Hell? Aren't they supposed to be ensuring that souls in their sectors get punished?"

"Well, they would, but they've all been sucked into something called a Multi-User Dungeon."

"Oh my."

"Yes, so they're all role-playing instead of administering."

"Give it time, Lord Anubis, I'm sure things will come around."

"You know what I've been thinking lately?" asked Anubis.

"Haven't a clue, sir," said Rastaphur. He picked up a can of generic soda sitting on the desk and took a long drink.

"What if Lucifer were to come back?"

"What?!" said Rastaphur, spitting soda pop all over Anubis.

"What if Lucifer were to come back?" said Anubis, patiently wiping Rastaphur's pop from his face.

"Surely, that's unthinkable."

"Is it, now? If you were the Lord of Hell, every vice known to imagination able to be indulged in at a moment's notice, would you really find it all that interesting up in Heaven?"

"No, I suppose not," said Rastaphur.

"Exactly. Well, when he comes back, I hope you can explain to him what all this stuff is and why the damned are out there having picnic lunches instead of having their sins whipped from them."

Before Rastaphur could reply the door opened to reveal Johnson, loaded down with a large stack of parcels.

"Gentlemen!" he said cheerfully as he tossed the packages to the ground. "Here they are."

"Here are what?" asked Anubis, arching an eyebrow.

"The answers to all our problems," he answered. He broke open a box and tossed a small black object from inside it to both Anubis and Rastaphur.

"What are these?" asked Rastaphur, turning the little black object over in his hands. "I don't remember ordering these."

"These are the pagers," said Johnson. "Now we can be reached anytime, anywhere in Hell."

"For what?" asked Anubis.

"Well, for . . . If we're ever needed to . . . There must be something. We can use them in case of an emergency!"

"What kind of emergencies do we have in Hell? Hmmm?" asked Rastaphur. "Sudden, tragic, rainfall in the lava pits? Imminent dangers of being nice? Accidentally helping an old woman across the Inferno Freeway instead of pushing her onto it?"

"Well, if you put it like that," said Johnson quietly.

"I can think of no conceivable use for these things," said Rastaphur.

Suddenly, the beeper in Rastaphur's hand went off.

* * *

to be concluded

Copyright © 1994 by Robert T. Bakie

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Five