Christos didn't look too bad in a trench coat, but the sandals were a bit inappropriate for the weather.

It was cold and rainy.

So was I.

He glanced at the Wrist Piglet on his left arm.

"Do we really know anything about this one?"
I looked at my Piglet, too. I scrolled along and then instituted a search. It took a couple of minutes. Nothing. "All I know is what you know. This is where his victims live together. They really love him. He just crossed over about two days ago and he seems to be coming to meet them. I don't know how, but he and they seem to understand what is going on. They want to get him to the next level as soon as possible."

Christos did a little impatient dance. "I hate this. They know so much more than us. Then and now. Why can't we win?"

"Ask your Dad," I said, laughing. "He's got this thing about honor and obedience."

"Yeah, for us. Not for them. So, how can we and they both be instruments of HIS will?"

"Yeah, particularly if both we'uns and they'ums are supposed to be suffering under the influence of 'fwee will'? I've never understood that."

"Don't look at me," he said. "I existed for suffering. Now I exist to watch other's. It never ends."

I looked at him closely. "You can't be translated to the next level?"

He lit a cigarette, a Turkish with a particularly nasty pall to it. "I'm on all the levels."

I spat convulsively," Damn, that's sick."

"Don't I know it."


CHAPTER TWO


We retreated to the converted Mosquito, settling into the observation blisters on either side.

We were part of the Prevention Squad on Level Two.

People who murdered and victims of murder were sent here as a kind of Purgatory.

Revenge and anger were the whole points of the place.

Preventing revenge and retribution was the whole point of our job.

Many of the murderers, given a second chance in a different world, were very happy to behave.

Many of the victims, some of whom were not so innocent in the first place, were not happy to see their killers. Some of those who had been meek and mild on the First Level became very vindictive on the second.

Others were happy to resolve their differences.

The problem was that only victims and murderers existed here, so there was a lot of potential for violence and redemption.

We were real smiley-faced and cuddly about the redemption, but we had to stop the revenge and retribution.

We had tried to communicate the fact that if a victim killed a murderer, then they would both go to Level Three, where there were only their compatriots.

If a murderer turned and rekilled his victim, then it was on to Level Four and so on.

Now, if a murderer on Level Two rekilled his victim from Level One, then we were in big trouble.

Then the murderer got to go to Level Two B, where he was in the company of nothing but other unrepentant murderers.

The victim went where ever the Lord wanted him to be.

Most just ignored us. They were alive and that was enough for them to believe that they had been blessed in their decisions and choices on Level One and now they could do whatever they wanted again.

Now, the really bad thing is that some of these people, of both kinds, had a knowledge of what was going on. Some of them had known on Level One, which is why they killed in the first place.

Our big problem was balance. Matter is neither created nor destroyed, it is merely converted from one form to another. The soul is, um, not strictly speaking, matter, but a form of energy that comes from conversion. Unfortunately, while matter can be reused again and again, the soul's energy can be tainted, tagged, if you will, with the burden of, well, sin.

If enough people of evil intent can taint enough souls, then the balance of the other Levels, where there is very little or no tainting, like 2.3 and 8.177734, can be thrown off and the whole of Purgation can be put into question by the Big Dad, who supposedly set this whole thing up at the instigation and whining of some old Popes and Berkeley Liberal Arts majors.

I thought the whole point of being a deity is that you didn't have to listen to anyone. Not Ol'Dad. He always had his ear open to something or other.


CHAPTER THREE


I had been a victim on Level One, but I had not only made friends with my killer on Level Two, but I had instinctively become a cop again.

The PTB stuck me on the Prevention Squad in the Serious Risk platoon with Christos because no one else could stand him. He made them nervous.

I didn't mind him. I was Jewish.