STRANGE SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY OMNIBUS (17 page)

Finally, a solution was found. He was named Viceroy to India and quickly hustled on board vessels that was conveniently heading to the subcontinent in the fervent hope that it would be intercepted and Brundell made captive by a French man of war. The new prime minister summoned representatives of the parties in Parliament to a secret gathering. There, they jointly agreed that while they could in the future name incompetents to be prime minister, it would always be a lazy one who would undertake no new policies.

And so it has been. Many incompetents have served as British Prime Minister, but never an energetic one. At the next general election, Brundell’s party was decisively defeated. Today, as a result of his performance, it is now defunct. You will look hard in British history to find any mention of the Earl of Brundell or of his party, so thoroughly have the British deliberately written him out of their history.

Unfortunately, when the thirteen British colonies gained independence from Great Britain and formed the United States of America, the story of the Earl of Brundell did not carry across the Atlantic. After some year of capable presidents, the United States in recent years is observing the harmful effects in this country of presidents who have been both incompetent and energetic.

W. Langdon Smuthers lived in the nicest residence in Hell. It was not only centrally air-conditioned, but had four bedrooms, a massive dining room, a book-lined library, a swimming pool and a tennis court. Those who saw it could not understand how a damned soul could possibly be given such a fine home. It was located in that quarter of Hell reserved for deceased government officials, Congressmen, former dictators and the like. The garbage was picked regularly once a month, and few dogs polluted the lawns of neighbors. Probably the most unpleasant aspect was the torrent of screams of pain from the homes of Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin, reflecting the high level of torture inflicted on them because of their crimes on earth.

Smuthers, who had served in the United States Senate for three terms before joining being killed in a plane accident while campaigning for re-election, was very pleased by his abode. Given the fact that as a politician he had been involved in corrupt deals and was now a damned soul in Hell, his treatment was really quite good. There was only one problem. He never got to spend any time in his house. What matter than it had a very an Olympic sized swimming pool or a well manicured lawn or that its tennis court was always in perfect shape. What matter that his large household staff included a celebrity chef and a pastry cook? He never was at home to enjoy

With amazing frequency, Smuthers was dispatched by Satan around the world on missions utilizing his diplomatic skill. One day he was in deepest Africa, the next in the Middle East, the next in Latin America. A few hours after returning home from abroad, before he had a chance even to change into a clean shirt or have a hot meal, the Devil would send for him again give him another mission. And it was not as though he was able to accomplish anything on these trips. The individuals he was forced to talk with were all either simpletons too stupid to comprehend what he told them or so pompous they refused to listen to anyone but themselves.

Finally, he could stand this no more. Returning from one particularly unpleasant mission thoroughly exhausted, his stomach rebelling from the horrible that’s he had been obliged to eat, his head throbbing from lack of sleep, he had gone directly to Satan’s office before stopping off at his home. The Arch Fiend received him at once.

After the turbulent plane ride, Smuthers found the Devil’s office pleasant, the air conditioning making this the coolest place in Hell. “What a pleasure,” Satan said. Satan was seated in a comfortable desk chair behind a large desk. On the walls were several plaques testifying to the efficiency of his office. In the center there was a large photograph, showing him in the full regalia of an angel, back before he rebelled against God and was sent down to reign over Hell.

Smuthers launched into his complaints. He did not object to being sent to Hell. After all, he had been a politician and individuals entering politics must realize that they are placing their immortal souls in jeopardy. But he honestly felt that a shorter time in Hell rather than all eternity was the proper answer and that at a minimum the torture he was being subjected to was unfair and that some amelioration of his treatment.

The devil sat silently, pondering. From the time to time, he scratched his head with his tail. Finally, he spoke. Satan, of course, has no mercy within him nor tenderness, but occasionally what appear to be signs of fairness come through. This seems to be the case now.

“What you say, Mr. Smuthers,” he said with a smile that might also have been a leer, “Does seem to have an element of truth in it, your treatment is definitely different from that accorded other souls in Hell. Unfortunately, my hands are tied. There is not much I can do to remedy the situation. I certainly can’t discharge you from Hell and give you a pass to Heaven. Even you would have to admit that would not be justified. As for reducing your period in Hell, the administrative procedures preclude that.

The Arch Fiend fell silent. Smuthers rose to leave, defeated, when Satan spoke again. “You know,” he said, “There is something I might be able to do. It rarely happens that someone is sent to Hell as a result of mechanical failure. When that happens, I can send them back to life, to give them so to speak a second chance. Naturally, your old body has been disposed of, but there are some available occasionally. Let me so what I can do.”

The Devil does not always lie; sometimes he speaks the truth for his own purposes. One day after only a brief period of continued torture, Smuthers found himself back on Earth in a new body. He had just graduated from law school and was trying to decide what career path he should choose. The reborn Smuthers possessed one advantage not shared by any living person. He retained a full memory of what Hell was like and how his previous conduct and led him to end up there.

Initially, Smuthers decided to become a district attorney and devote his life to obtaining proper punishment for malefactors and protection of the innocent. In this way, he would do enough good to avoid Hell. Eventually, he concluded that an even surer means to assure a place in Heaven was for him to-become a politician again. With his special knowledge, he would be able to avoid all of the practices that had led him into Hell before. In this way, he might do more good for more people than an as district attorney.

Despite the many challenges to such a course of action, Smuthers carried out his plan without deviation. Unlike other politicians, he never once did anything the least bit unethical or illegal. He made sure that his campaign expenses were also audited several times over to insure against accidental improprieties.. Most atypically, he never promised to deliver what he was not certain of being able to provide, regardless of how his vote would affect his popular support among the voters, he only voted for measures that would enhance the public good.

By the time Smuthers was elected to the United States Senate, he was nicknamed “Honest John” by the Washington press corps. His reputation grew to the extent that the President, seeking to restore public confidence in the administration after a series of scandals, each worse than the one before, nominated him to be Secretary of State. Although he would damage his reputation by joining an administration so tarred by scandal, he unselfishly accepted the post in the expectation that he now might be able to help not just the citizens of the United States, but also m the oppressed populations of the world.

As Secretary of state, Smuthers traveled around the globe tirelessly, attempting to resolver international crises, to provide humanitarian assistance and to prevent wars and genocide. In many respects, his existence was as difficult as it and been when he was being employed by the Devil. This time, however, Smuthers knew he was advancing the cause of good, not evil and was insuring his eventual future in Heaven.

Sadly, on one such trip, Smuthers’ aircraft suffered series mechanical failure. The plane crashed into a mountain, killing everyone on board, including the Secretary of State. Smuthers regained consciousness to find himself back in Hell, in his old residence. He rushed to see the Devil to complain and was immediately ushered in to Satan’s office.

The office and the Arch Fiend looked unchanged. “This is most unfair,” Smuthers declared, sputtering with anger. “I did everything I could to redeem myself. I shouldn’t be here now. It is most, most unfair.”

“Indeed it is,” agreed the Devil smiling. Although the Devil is without mercy or tenderness, he is well known for having a rather unusual sense of humor.

You almost certainly have never heard of Arthur Bancroft time machine. This is because of his efforts to hide its existence. Unlike virtually every other effort to achieve this elusive goal, it was successful. Not only successful. His machine was easy to assembly and made out of easily obtainable components. He made a large number of machines for testing purposes and began the trials. This revealed only one minor defect. Although it could go forward in time to any desired period or go backward in the same fashion, his time machinery could only make a one-way trip. In short, once a person took it into the future or the past, he was stuck permanently in that period. He could not return.

It took a long time and the expenditure of many machines for Bancroft to accept the situation. In his first test of it, he set the control for an hour in the future, sent it off on its trip and waited patiently for an hour for it to reappear. To his disappointment it failed to do so. He waited another hour and then another. Finally, he concluded that he must have made an error in setting the control of the machine and tried the experiment again. The result was the same. It had gone for good.

Bancroft comforted himself with the possibility that while the mechanism to travel into the future needed some adjustment, the machine would still function properly if sent into the past. He set the controls for the machine to travel to the past, but to a slightly different site, his upstairs bedroom instead of hi laboratory. The machine vanished as before. Bancroft raced upstairs to his bedroom, hoping to find that the machine had arrived there an hour before. Once again, there was no time machine. Another failure.

Test after test produced the same result. He took the machine apart, examined each component carefully for flaws and found nothing. He reassembled the time machine and tried again, both trips to the past and to the future. Still total failure. Not a single machine every returned.

This defect was clearly a serious obstacle to its sale and use. Bancroft tried a hard as he could, but could find no solution. A lesser person would have thrown in the towel and admitted defeat. Not Arthur Bancroft. After so much hard work and coming so close to attaining his goal, Bancroft was not about to do so. He remembered what his father had told him, “If you end up in life with lemons, you can always make lemonade.” Taking his father’s advice to heart, he resolved to find a lucrative use for his time machine.

The effort required quite a bit if effort. After some false starts he managed to gain admittance to the office of the local crime lord, who was about to be arrested for multiple murders. Bancroft suggested that if the crime lord could somehow lure the witnesses who could testify to his guilt to Bancroft’s home, he would dispose of them so that their bodies would never be discovered. Of course, the charge for this service quoted by Bancroft was a steep one, but Bancroft pointed out it was still cheaper than having to hire henchmen to do the dirty work and then to find a safe place to dump the corpses.

When he explained to the dubious crime lord his method of insuring that no witnesses would ever be seen again, the crime lord was dubious. Still he had no other alternative. After conferring with his consigliore and other top lieutenants he accepted Bancroft’s terms after some hard bargaining on price which revealed the skills which had enabled him to rise to the top of his profession. Eventually, Bancroft agreed to a lot price for up to a dozen witnesses, concluding that this deal if successful would lead to healthier cash rewards in the future.

A short time later some thugs belonging to the crime lord’s “family” deposited at Bancroft’s home eight potential witnesses suitably bound who might have provided testimony confirming the crime lord’s involvement in a large number of gang-land murders. Each one was carefully placed in one of Bancroft’s time machines and dispatched into the far future, none less than ninety years ahead and arriving at ten year intervals. As Bancroft had carefully explained to the crime lord, a ninety year period should be sufficient for the crime lord to have gone on to his future reward.

Bancroft felt queasy about participating in such an activity. He comforted himself with the knowledge that these potential witnesses would have been murdered without his involvement and that life in the future, no matter how unpleasant, was preferable to their meeting a quick and violent death. Bancroft’s effort to reassure himself of the relatively high moral tone of his actions, all things considered, was once again strained. The crime lord arrived unexpectedly after the witnesses had been sent off and unexpectedly shoot the underlings who had brought the witnesses to Bancroft. He explained that it was better not to leave loose ends and that it would be foolish of him to eliminate one set of potentially life-threatening witnesses only to create a new potential threat.

Then the crime lord added to Bancroft’s alarm by insisting that he disposing of his late henchmen in the same manner and for the same original price he had handled the witnesses, Bancroft prudently interpreted this to be an off he couldn’t refuse. He agreed, but politely observed that he was losing money on the deal if his depreciation costs were added in and that he could continue to provide the service only if the volume of his business expanded. He also suggested that if the crime lord was interested in becoming a partner, he could take fifty percent of the purchase price from any new business he could steer to Bancroft.