Limbo 56 - Mike Morris (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud TXT) 📗

that stuff and straighten the conveyor line,” he ordered. Experimentally, he heaped black sand on a shovel and tossed it back into the bin. “Much too dry,” he said to the men.

“It’s a lot heavier when it’s wetter,” one of the men ventured.

Arthur glared at him. “Of course it is. He turned to a foreman. “How many of these moulds break before they can be poured.”

“About ten percent,” the man told him.

“So you’ll shovel a bit harder and produce ten percent more moulds,” Arthur said, walking away.

That same day, Arthur drew up plans to cut the four-man teams to three. It wasn’t an original idea, he admitted to himself, he’d seen it in a real-life foundry, and knew that the system worked. Arthur explained his smeary diagram to Shadrach, and the big man looked thoughtful. “Are you sure this will work,” he asked thoughtfully.

“It’s not my brilliant idea,” Arthur told him. “I’ve seen it work. It will add fifteen percent to our output.” Shadrach pursed his lips and left without comment. Within a couple of days, the new scheme was working on every shift.

A week later, he sat in the small room that Shadrach had allocated him. There was a water stain on the ceiling and the place managed to seem musty and draughty at the same time, but Shadrach insisted that this was one of the better rooms in Limbo56. Arthur’s spirits faded somewhat as he realized that he had no idea how to exit from Limbo, much less wrest the recruiting job from Jimmy Wheeler. He was tracing cracks in the ceiling when a drum roll of knocks shook the door. “Come in, Shadrach,” he called.

“How did you know it was me,” Shadrach entered, clutching two large bottles of beer.

“The house almost collapsed,” Arthur said dryly.

“I got word today that Jimmy Wheeler is back from his holiday – up there.” Shadrach said. So, when are we going to start,” he asked, handing Arthur a bottle of tasteless Limbo beer.

“Do they make this stuff especially for Limbo, or are our taste buds deader than we are?” Arthur asked, grimacing, and they exchanged complaints about the beer the weather and the general inadequacy of Limbo56. “I’m surprised to see you here,” Arthur said, “I didn’t think you wanted to be involved.” Shadrach shrugged. “Then let’s go to the gateway on Main,” Arthur told him.

“It’ll take about a week to be able to obtain a pass,” Shadrach told him. “Have you petitioned the angels?”

Arthur scowled. “That must have been part of the orientation I missed,” he said. “Anyway, how do I get in touch with an Angel?” Shadrach pointed to an ancient telephone that Arthur would have sworn was not there when he last looked.

“Don’t touch the red button,” Shadrach said, “It’s for extreme emergencies only.”

Arthur grabbed the phone and pushed the red button, causing bells to ring in the street outside and in the surrounding streets too, from what he could hear. “If I’m right,” he said, “Angels don’t lie, and they never cheat, and they always strive to be fair. “Hello,” he continued into the phone. “Yes, this is an emergency. I have an urgent message for Jimmy Wheeler. Yes, I know that he is a regional recruiter for Limbo, but he dumped a bunch of goodly souls here and forgot to pick them up. Yes, destined for Heaven, about a hundred, but I’m a little concerned. They’ve been hanging around here in Limbo for two days now, and they’re getting very annoyed. Yes. Yes, a couple of them have started to take the Lord’s name in vain, and about an hour ago, two of them got into a fistfight. I’m afraid you’re going to lose them if I don’t get them away quickly. No, no, no, don’t bother; I’ll bring them to you.” He listened for a few seconds. “I have your directions; I shall be at the designated place as soon as possible.” He nodded a couple of times. “Do you have any timetable for Jimmy, any idea where he’s going to be for the next few days? Yes, I’m supposed to meet him for a couple of beers, and I know he’ll be very disappointed if we don’t get together.”

Arthur hung up the old phone. Shadrach was staring at him. “If I’m going to lie, I might as well make it a big one,” he said. “Have you noticed that the Angels are flattered when you treat them like regular people? I think deep down they’re rather intimidated by us.”

They stepped into the street, Shadrach shaking his head. “But, man, you promised the Angels a hundred souls,” he spluttered. “Where are you going to get them from?”

“I’ll worry about that when I’ve fixed things with Jimmy,” Arthur told him. “I didn’t give an exact time, or day, for that matter, for delivery. You know how slow the Angels are at reacting to events, how naïve they are.” He faced Shadrach. “Why do you think that a pathetic fraud like Jimmy Wheeler was able to fool all you clever gents, not to mention the Angels, and land a plum job as a recruiter; not just a junior recruiter but head recruiter for a whole region of England? It’s because he’s willing to lie through his teeth, and he knows how to lie. Arthur sniffed. I can lie too, maybe not as loud as Jimmy, but I have an edge. I’m angry and I have nothing to lose.” They walked to the Gateway. “Thanks for helping,” Arthur said. “By the way, does that old phone of mine have a number?”

“LIM 56,” Shadrach said. “It takes messages, too.” Arthur looked at him. “Don’t ask me how,” he said. “You just talk at it, and at this end there’s a little flashing light, and that means it wants to talk to you.”

“Keep an eye on it for me, will you. I might want to contact you.”

“Is there anything else, your Highness?”

Arthur grinned. “Make sure the room stays tidy,” he said, slipping round the corner into the real world.


Chapter 4 – The Real World
It was nighttime, cool and dry, and hundreds of stars twinkled in the black sky. “I’d forgotten about stars,” Arthur whispered to himself, looking up in awe. He followed a line of yellow gas-lamps that pointed to a dark city. A rusty sign loomed out of the night. “Sheffield,” Arthur muttered, satisfied; this was the city where Jimmy was recruiting; the place where the mythical goodly souls were to be dropped off. Sheffield, however, was a big city. Why had he expected to easily find one man? When the sun came up, he had a partial answer.

Citizens emerged, coughing, from their houses, hurrying to work on cycles and electrical trams and strange, rattling moveable chairs. He had heard of the electrical trams but had only seen horse-drawn ones. The trams banged down the street on iron tracks, occasionally shooting out blue sparks, alarming him. He finally figured out that the moving chairs were the new-fangled cars he had been hearing about.

He walked among the citizens and, subtly, they avoided him, swerving around him when he blocked their path, ignoring him when he spoke to them. The living, it seemed, were not inclined to notice the undead. The dead and the dying, on the other hand, stood out like candles in the dark. A demon recruiter snarled at him, a ghost turned into a rather pretty pink dragon in front of him, and then wandered away disconsolately when he laughed. An old man greeted him uncertainly, tottered a few yards, and fell. Before he could help, the spirit arose and sailed away like a leaf in the wind, leaving behind an untidy shapeless bundle. Arthur caught up with the old man, standing at a tram stop. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m waiting for a tram,” the old man said. “I have to join my wife – up there.”

Arthur found that if he concentrated, he could locate the dying and the dead. He searched ahead and to the side, knowing that he would recognize Jimmy Wheeler. He thought of the smooth-talking recruiter and let his anger build up. He finally located Jimmy in the largest bank in town, talking to the manager, who was destined for a heart attack in a very short time. Nobody saw the new Governor as he slipped into the luxurious office of the bank manager.

“I’m a businessman, just like you,” Jimmy was saying. “Personally, I don’t think fraud and embezzlement warrant sending you to Limbo, but that’s not my choice.” Jimmy was dressed in an expensive suit and drinking whiskey and tonic. “I shall, of course, place you in an environment suitable to your station in life.” He broke off, eyes widening.

“Hello, Jimmy,” Arthur said, lifting the man off his chair. He hit the recruiter on the jaw. “I’m borrowing him for a minute,” he told the bank manager, who looked as if his heart was about to attack. “If you die before he gets back,” Arthur said pleasantly, “you will still be able to talk to him.”

He dragged the recruiter across the street and into a small park, dropping him on to a bench. Jimmy looked at him with a mixture of fear and hatred. “I’ll have you sent directly to Hell for this,” he shouted.

“Of course you will,” Arthur told him. “I could just follow you around for a while, rapping you on the jaw.”

“You’re insane,” Jimmy cried, you’re going to Hell faster than you can say your name.” He pulled a tiny phone from his pocket. Arthur rapped him on the jaw again. Jimmy looked like a man about to cry. “What do you want?” he asked.

Arthur searched desperately for an idea. He had thought that the sight of Jimmy Wheeler would stimulate a brilliant scheme to save his Limbo and his bacon. His mind was blank. ‘Am I still that frightened foundry worker?’ he asked himself. ‘Intimidated by a man who has never done a real day’s work in his life?’ “You as good as sent me to Hell,” he said. “You saddled me with the worst Limbo on your books; you made me look like a fool in front of the other Intermediates there.” He smiled bitterly at the recruiter. “I could just follow you around and make your life a misery, until they come and put me away. At least, I’ll have a century or so in the Limbo gaol before the hearing. You don’t scare me because I have nothing to lose.” Then the brilliant scheme came fully-grown into his mind. “But you do,” he said. “You have a lot to lose.”

It took him a few minutes to tell Jimmy what he was prepared to do. The man looked at him in amazement, not recognizing the naïve foundry man of a few weeks before. The recruiter blustered and threatened, expecting Arthur to cave in, and when that didn’t happen, he turned on the charm and offered Arthur a position working as a recruiter, one of Jimmie’s elite squad. “I misjudged you,” he flattered. “You have what it takes to succeed. I should have known.”

The newly minted Arthur sniffed. “I’m going to be a recruiter,” he said. “But I’m going to be in charge. I’ll be the sole recruiter for Limbo56, and you will keep out of my way.” It took about an hour to calm Jimmy down sufficiently to get his agreement. They stopped off at a prestigious law office on the top floor of the