A Blink of the Screen

ankles.’
    The Devil did not look up.
    ‘Here.’
    He handed Crucible a battered mug, on which the initials ‘B.R.’ were just discernible. And so they continued.
    They stood in front of the gate. Crucible looked up and read the inscription:
    ALL HOPE ABANDON, YE WHO ENTER HERE .
    ‘No good.’
    ‘No?’
    ‘Neon lights.’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    ‘Red ones.’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    ‘Flashing.’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    They entered.
    ‘Down, boy; get off Crucible.’
    Three tongues licked Crucible simultaneously.
    ‘Back to your kennel, boy.’
    Whining, Cerberus slunk off.
    ‘You must excuse him,’ said the Devil, as he picked Crucible up and dusted him down. ‘He has never been the same since he took a lump out of Orpheus’s leg.’
    ‘It didn’t say that in the story.’
    ‘I know. Pity, because the real story was much more – er, interesting. But that’s neither here nor there.’
    Crucible took stock of his surroundings. They appeared to be standing in a hotel lobby. In one wall was a small alcove containing a desk, on which a huge Residents’ book, covered in dust, lay open.
    The Devil opened a small wooden door.
    ‘This way.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘My office.’
    Crucible followed him up the narrow stairway, the boards creaking under his feet.
    The Devil’s office, perched precariously on the walls of Hell, was rather dilapidated. There was a patch of damp in one corner, where the Styx had overflowed, and the paper was peeling off the wooden walls. A rusty stove in the corner glowed red hot. Crucible noticed that the floor seemed to be covered with old newspapers, bills, and recipes for various spells.
    The Devil dropped into a commodious armchair while Crucible sat down in a tortuous cane chair, which all but collapsed under his weight.
    ‘Drink?’ said the Devil.
    ‘Don’t mind if I do,’ said Crucible.
    ‘Very nice drink, this,’ said Crucible. ‘Your own recipe?’
    ‘Yes. Quite simple – two pints bats’ blood, one— I say! You’ve gone a funny colour! Feel all right?’
    ‘Ulp! Ghack! Um – quite all right, thanks. Er – shall we get down to business?’
    ‘Okay.’
    ‘Well, as I see it, our main difficulty will be to make the public take Hell – and you for that matter – seriously. I mean, the generally accepted theory of Hell is a sort of fiery furnace, with you prodding lost souls with a pitchfork and hordes of demons and what-not running around yelling— Hey, that reminds me, where is everybody – er, soul?’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Lost souls and demons and banshees and what-not?’
    ‘Oh, them. Well, like I said, no one has been down here for two thousand years, except that nit, Dante. And all the souls down here gradually worked their way up to Purgatory, and thence to – yes, well, the demons all got jobs elsewhere.’
    ‘Tax collectors,’ murmured Crucible.
    ‘Quite so. As for fiery furnaces, the only one still in working order is the Mark IV, over there in the corner. Very useful for my culinary efforts but not for much else.’
    ‘Hm. I see. Have you a map of Hell handy?’
    ‘I think so.’ The Devil rummaged in an old oak desk behind him and produced a roll of yellow parchment.
    ‘This is the newest map I have.’
    ‘It’ll do. Now let me see. Hum. I take it this is where we came in.’
    ‘Yes! That shading is the Sulphur Plain.’
    ‘That’s good. I’m sure the Acme Mining Company would give a lot to have the mining rights –’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    ‘Of course, we would have to build a proper road over it for the increased transport –’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    ‘Get a large tunnel dug down from Earth –’
    ‘Coffee bar here. Dance Hall there. Race track at the far end. Bowling Alley over –’
    ‘We could put a Fun-fair here –’
    ‘Leaving room for a restaurant there –’
    ‘Put some ice-cream stalls here and here, and here –’
    ‘All-night Jazz band there. Get in touch with your demons and offer them higher wages to come back to help run the place –’
    ‘Get Orpheus to organize a Jazz band – I’m sure Apollo would oblige –’
    And so it continued. Soon the map was covered in symbols representing everything from a dance hall to a cycle-track. Then they sat back and discussed Stage One: putting Hell in the public eye.
    Of course, there were difficulties at first. The time when the Devil materialized in the middle of the pitch on Cup Final day springs to mind. Still, he got a front page splash in all the popular newspapers. A famous Brewery