Ralph Bennitt

“ Nick told himself, “but do or die for good old Hades.”
“What? Who are you?” Volonsky’s phantom teeth chattered. “You must be Nick, himself.”
“Russia’s patron saint till you amateurs took over. I have business with your boss. I mean Andrei Broncov. Not that it matters, but who conceived the idea of deposing Satan? Talk, mujik, and tell the truth. All of it.”
“Blame Broncov, not me,” Volonsky pleaded. “It was his scheme to kill off several thousand loyal party comrades. They got a choice: Be tortured to death, or die quickly and work for a revolution in Hell as soon as they arrived. ”

“ It was an hour short of midnight and snowing in Moscow when Nick landed in the printing room of Pravda, the official Red journal. As he had calculated, several sample newspapers had been run off.
Vichy Volonsky, a short, roundheaded man, had held up the rest of the issue while he studied the content through his nose-glasses. Editor Blochensk and the mechanics anxiously awaited the great man’s verdict. An unfavorable one meant the concentration camp for everybody. ”

“ I told ’im everybody here is hot and unhappy like you ordered me to say if they ever caught me. I said our air-conditioning system goes haywire and that we were ripping out a thousand old boilers and coolers. ”

“ Gorkzy shouted. “Prince Navi is a grandson. His name is N-a-v-i—Ivan spelled backward. Why, the smart little devil! And now he’s here some place to reign over us.”
“Oh, no,” Cletus protested as he and Nick slithered through the wall. “You aren’t going to make me rule over these dopes, boss. Have a heart. It’s cold here, and the whole country stinks.”
“That’s your punishment, m’lad, for letting Raphael and Michael catch onto you. You can’t prowl around Heaven just now so you’ll have to work here in Hell’s Rear Annex for a while. Look!” Nick thumbed one of the gold pieces. ”

“ They gave way in a roar, and a hundred tons of yellow gold streamed downward in a cataclysmic wave of wealth and death to the Council members below.
Poised on air, Nick and Cletus became invisible to mortal eyes. “That wraps it, Cleet. Let’s see how the boys take it.”
The six guards were peering down into the ruin below, and at some of the fortune still clinging to the slanting floor.
“Great Nicholas!” Gorkzy yelled. “Gold!”
“Just like Pravda says,” howled another man. “Listen! It says: ‘Volonsky and the mysterious Persian prince have disappeared. Broncov executed by heroic guards. ”

“ Gold pieces continued falling from the hat, one by one, then in a steady stream. Stunned, Broncov clutched his throat, muttering: “It can’t be true. Miracles don’t happen.”
He watched in silence while his Minister of Culture made a pile of gold coins four feet high. When the floor timbers began creaking, Nick made another similar heap; then, others, till the thick walls began bulging inward.
“Stop!” Broncov cried. “A couple of tons is enough.” Eyes now popping, he waved his arms as the floor sagged under fifty times that weight. “There’s the two hundred million for you, Prince. ”

“ Where in hell could we get even two hundred dollars in gold?”
“Go to hell and find all you want,” Nick said with a wicked grin.
“I understood what you high-binders said,” Cletus put in. “My cousin told me before I left home Communist clucks don’t savvy Saturday from Sunday. Everybody knows you top boys have stolen everything not nailed down, and have stashed it away against the time your own people kick out Communism for good.”
“Oh, come, Prince Navi, I don’t understand how such an evil story started. Our people wouldn’t dare—”
“Wouldn’t they?” Cletus laughed nastily. ”

“ Nick joined in the laughter. “Trouble with that, Molly, The BBU wouldn’t stand for it. Only Death can give the final sting, and even he has to wait for the call. Our game is to play it cagey, stick by the few rules The BBU laid down, and stay out of trouble.”
“How do you aim to handle those fellas?” Belial asked.
“Tell you after I do it.” Nick guessed the fun-loving Propaganda Chief wanted to go along, but decided Cletus would be a better assistant in a plan already formulated. A boon companion, Belial, for any nefarious project. ”

“ How is the comrade?”
“Gosh, boss, I’m sick of hearing that word. They say it just before they knife you. Broncov’s been busy, all right. Since taking over the Number One job he’s been sending a lot of his best friends down this way. To keep Joe Stalin company, he told me. He looks fat even if Bill Shakespeare says this new lot—”
“I suppose he and his pals plied you with liquor,” Nick said.
“They tried to drink me under the table.” Charon cut a laugh in half. “Gosh, I durn near forgot. Y’know what the sidewinder, Bronco, babbled ’fore he passed out? Top drawer stuff. ”

“ I represent Super-San Oil and I’m here to meet a Persian Prince Navi.”
“Quiet, Amerikaner, till—Oh, Your Excellency Comrade Vychy Volonsky!” The mouth of the astonished clerk fell open. Then, fearful of making a wrong move in the Red game of dirty politics, he failed to guess why the great one should act as a miserable capitalist. “A thousand pardons, Your Excellency Comrade. What can I do for the beloved comrade? I didn’t recognize you—”
“Hush, fool!” Nick looked toward Cletus just then gazing into the blonde’s blue eyes. ”

“ Cletus protested, “they saw Mulcie’s gangs fixing the road. If Rafe and them extra-extrapopulated that dope to figure out the truth, why blame me?”
“We’ll forget it,” Nick said, vastly relieved to believe his scout had not betrayed him. “I have a job for you. I’m going to Moscow and I want your help. Light out as soon as you can. Requisition as much gold as you can handle by the usual translation method, and include a sack of polished diamonds and rubies. I’ll tell Mammon it’s okay when I arrange for my own supply.”
“Okay, boss. Where do we meet? And what am I supposed to look like, and do?” ”

“ Only Nick and his best scout, Cletus, could move at thought speed—“Click-Click Transportation.”
Drifting on, a pleased smile on his red, bony face, Nick paused several times to read Belial’s welcomings.
“Die and see the original Naples in all its natural beauty,” said one sign. “Try our hot sulphur springs and become a new soul.” Gayest pleasures were promised to all and golfers had special attention. “Register with the pro at your favorite golf club so you can qualify. No charge for pro’s services who’ll teach you to break 80. ”

“ Nick said. “When did we ever trust anybody? But our system of checkers, checkers checking the checkers, super-checkers on up to charter members, hasn’t failed yet.”
“If His Eminence, The Corpse-Snatcher, is satisfied,” Azazel said, smoothing his sleek black hair, “I shall answer Prince Mulciber’s polite question. We now have on the guards’ roll exactly thirteen million four hundred—”
“That’s close enough.” Plainly pleased with his title, Moloch grinned at the big engineer. “Mulcie, why not build a chute straight up into Moscow? Save the boss trouble. ”