Limbo 56 by Mike Morris (suggested reading .TXT) 📕

bedraggled figure. “Are you trying to poach more of my people,” he asked sharply.

“She’s mine, while I’m still Governor,” he said, and Olga pressed against him, causing Charley and Gladys to frown. “Gladys,” he said diffidently, “I hope you don’t mind, but I told Olga that you could lend her some makeup and stuff.”

Olga smirked, and Gladys sniffed. “She needs more than makeup,” Gladys said, appraising Olga’s damp and lumpy form.

“Arthur doesn’t think so,” Olga said silkily, and they bared their teeth at each other.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Gladys promised pushing the other woman upstairs.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Jasper said nastily. “What brought you to that oversexed tub of lard?”

“Electioneering,” Arthur answered. “We had an interesting talk,” he said thoughtfully. “And what,” he asked suspiciously, “were you three talking about?”

“I decided to be generous,” Jasper said, “after talking to Charley. After the election, I’m going to let you stay on as my assistant, you and Gladys.”

“Well, if that’s what you were really talking about,” Arthur told him, “I want you to include Charley. Remember, he’s undead now, not a lost soul.”

“Charley will be working directly for me,” Jasper said airily, “I’ve promised him immunity, while this Limbo lasts.”

“A demon promise,” Arthur muttered. “I want a contract drawn up, and I want Gladys and Charley to be in it. I need everything in writing,” he insisted, and Jasper vanished in a flurry of sparks.

“Don’t worry about me,” Charlie said unexpectedly, “I can cut my own deals. I spent an hour getting that agreement,” he said with some heat. “I told you to leave the bargaining to me.”

“He’ll be back,” Arthur said confidently. “Anyway, I have an idea.”

That night he went to one of the new polling places. He carried a satchel, and when he sat down at the polling table he fished out some old documents, ‘Limbo Rules’, ‘Duties and Obligations Pertaining to the Post of Governor’, and ‘Election Policy – Rights and Restrictions.’ He staggered home the next morning and pressed the red button on his phone, and, for the second time, and emergency summons to the Angels rang through the streets.

On the morning of the election, an Angel representative appeared in Arthur’s quarters. Arthur blinked awake and looked at the Angel uncertainly. Somehow, it was entangled in his curtains, and it threshed around, muttering some very un-angelic complaints. Arthur extricated it and saw that it was a male, small and nervous, resembling an anxious schoolboy. Somehow he had expected more from his urgent summons.

“Well, what did you want so urgently,” the boy said in piping tones. “My time is very important, you know.”

“Which is why it took you three days to get down to this dingy worn-out excuse for a Limbo,” Arthur interrupted, and the boy looked ready to cry. “How old are you anyway, sonny?”

The Angel drew himself up to his full sixty inches. ”Three thousand years,” he said, smugly. He saw the disbelief in Arthur’s eyes. “Well, I died young,” he said. “Three thousand years ago most of us died young.”

“So you must be pretty senior up there,” Arthur said.

The boy sniffed. “I’m more interested in moral tur.. tur turpitude,” he said, “than material advancement.”

Arthur sighed. “We have an hour before the polls open,” he said. “First, I need you to tell me if my actions are legal, and then, assuming they are, I have a very small miracle for you to perform.”

The boy looked apprehensive. “Here, I’ll explain,” Arthur told him. He straightened the old documents and began to talk. “Well,” he said after a while. “Am I legal?”

“Legal, but morally reprehensible,” the boy Angel told him.

Arthur snorted. “After what I told you that little Devil Jasper has been doing?” he said. “I’m trying to save this pathetic little Limbo from going to Hell.”

“Moral ambiguity in the service of good is no excuse for moral frailty,” the Angel said smugly.

“Am I legal,” Arthur snapped, and the Angel nodded reluctantly. “Now I want a very tiny miracle,” Arthur told him. “I want three copies of my decree, printed in large clear type. I want Gladys transported to polling station one, together with the first copy. I want Charley transported to polling station two, together with the second copy, and I want to be transported to polling station three with the final copy. We have about five minutes before polling begins. Now can..” But he was standing inside the polling station, clutching a large stiff piece of parchment. He switched on the light and started to read “I {please state your name here}, a citizen of Limbo56, have no ties to, affinities for, or allegiance with, the Netherworld, otherwise known as Hell. I also hold no allegiance to Heaven, sometimes called the realm of God the Almighty, and the Holy Angels.”

Suddenly the foundry siren wailed, not for shift change as it had done for hundreds of years, but for the start of the first election for Governor in history. The door burst open, and Jasper stood in the entrance, with about a thousand lost souls shivering in the rain behind him. He seemed surprised to see Arthur. “What are you doing here?” he asked the thin man.

“I’m here to see that there are no irregularities,” Arthur told him. “As stated in the bye-laws of this Limbo.”

“Naturally,” Jasper said smugly. “And of course, no-one here is about to vote twice.” He waved to his apathetic followers. “We’re all duly accredited citizens of this little paradise,”

“And you’re all prepared to swear that you have no allegiance to anywhere else?”

“Absolutely,” Jasper said. “Listening to a few thousand oaths may slow us down a little, but we’ll be all wrapped up long before the day is done.” He paused. “Are the other polling stations manned?” Arthur nodded. “Let’s get on with it then.” Jasper grabbed the parchment and started reading rapidly. “I Jasper Judas Demon, a citizen of Limbo56, have no ties to, affinities for, or allegiance with, the Netherworld, otherwise known as Hell. I also hold no allegiance to H.h.h.hea.., sometimes called the realm of Ggggg.” He stopped, purple. “What is this,” he screeched. “You have no authority to change the oath.” Horns appeared and he stamped his foot, breathing fire. “I’ll call the Angels, I’ll call the Devils. I’ll have you and your friends roasted alive.” Arthur looked at him innocently. “You’ve changed the oath. You have changed the oath and disenfranchised thousands of voters,” Jasper shouted. “You know you can’t do that. You can’t rig the election that way.”

“I’ve strengthened the oath,” Arthur said. “It’s my job to make sure that the election is free and fair. What’s not free and fair about the oath?”

“Yaaaaaa,” Jasper screamed, spouting flames like a volcano. “I’ll see you all burn in Hell, I’ll call the Council right now.”

“You can’t do that, Jasper,” the boy Angel said from behind Arthur. “It’s all legal, you know. Highly reprehensible way of acting, but still…”

“Clarence Cuthbert Cherub,” Jasper screamed, “You can’t do this to me, you little twerp.”

“Now, brother,” Clarence said.

“Brother?” Arthur looked at the two of them.

“Black sheep!” Clarence sniffed.

“Loser, Cherub third class,” Jasper yelled, and they disappeared with an audible bang.

Arthur stepped up to the door, where lost souls and undead were milling about restively. “Come on in, all of you,” he said. “Come on in and vote!”

Gladys and Charley and Arthur sat companionably around the rickety table, sipping beer that tasted somewhat like beer and spooning stew that tasted almost like stew. “I got the idea,” Arthur said, “after you became an undead, Charley, and after Olga said something to me about Heaven. I studied the by-laws, and Jasper’s brother arrived just in time to confirm the legality. Of course, I would have gone on even without an Angel, but things would have been tougher.”

“Almost all of the undead voted for you,” Gladys said, “even Olga.” She looked suspiciously at Arthur. “I don’t know what you did to her, but she told me she was voting for ‘her little cupcake.’” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“And most of the lost souls couldn’t say the oath, and disappeared into the ground,” Charley said. “I guess they lost their usefulness for the demons after they couldn’t vote against you. Then again,” he continued, “we calculated that several hundred did manage to stutter out the oath, and they all became undead and voted for you. Quite a haul, I would say. You won’t have to worry about recruiting for a while.”

“Congratulations on a fair election and a well-deserved win,” Jasper said smoothly from behind them. He sat down coolly, and beckoned to the barmaid. “Yes, the best man won. I’m disappointed, naturally. I had some good ideas for improving this place, but I’m sure you will continue your excellent rule for many years to come.”

“What in hell are you doing here,” Arthur said. “Why didn’t you disappear into the ground with the others?”

“I decided,” Jasper said, “that I couldn’t, in all good conscience vote against you. We are, after all, friends.”

Arthur gasped. “When are you going back to Hell,” he demanded.

Jasper pursed his lips. “I’ve decided to ask for asylum in this paradise,” he said. I have a job here as your loyal assistant, and I can’t in good conscience, desert you now.”

“No.” Arthur said firmly. “Never.”

“I suppose then,” Jasper said ruefully, “I’ll have to take this flawed election to the council, and ask for a recount.”

“You must be mad,” Arthur told him. “The election was fair, the Angel said so.”

“My brother,” Jasper said disdainfully. “He’s a Cherub, third class, the little snot. He probably had no real authority to decide anything.”

“Sorry, it won’t work,” Arthur said. “No asylum for you.”

“What a shame,” Jasper said. “I’d probably lose, but you know how slow the council is. It will take years before the whole thing is decided. Years when there’s no firm hand at the tiller, no wise guidance…” Arthur shook his head firmly. “Then there are those lost souls you converted,” Jasper said. “They risked all and saved their souls, but once the election is declared void, they’ll be sucked right down into Hell again.” He looked at Arthur “You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would you?” Arthur opened his mouth and closed it again.

“He’s right,” Charlie said, and Gladys murmured agreement.

“So here we are,” Jasper said brightly, “the four musketeers, together again.”

Chapter 28 – The Money Man
They call me the moneyman. I’ve almost forgotten why, but I know I did some nasty stuff when I was alive. Really terrible. It’s just that everyone was down on me, you know what it’s like. I guess I’m lucky. I was a lost soul, now I’m just undead. Limbo is wonderful, much better than Hell. I really like Gladys, she’s a lot like Mary. I shouldn’t think about Mary. I messed up there. It wasn’t really my fault – was it? I’ve been here in Limbo for almost a year now. I really like Gladys. I go to the pub all the time, just to see her. I can tell she likes me, even though she seems impatient with me sometimes. That’s because she’s always busy. She pretends to like that flashy Londoner who comes in sometimes, and the Governor, naturally. Well, she has to pretend to like him; he