“Why did you leave me down here all those years?”

“You mean why do I allow human suffering?”

“No. What I mean is why did you leave me down here?”

“You don’t belong anywhere, so what difference does it make where you are?”

“You really hate me, don’t you? I’m every fucking mistake you ever made all rolled into one.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“Aelita murdered Uriel, my father.”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell her to?”

“Aelita and I aren’t really on what you’d call speaking terms these days.”

“Is my father stuck in Tartarus?”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s gone.”

“Where?”

“He’s just gone.”

“The other dead nephilim, are they gone, too?”

He raises one hand and drops it back in his lap.

I ask, “What’s in Tartarus?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d put that cigarette out. It bothers my allergies.”

“You have allergies?”

“Only down here.”

I flick the cigarette over the side into the crazies’ bonfire below.

“What I don’t get is the disappearing act. You hate me. That’s a given. But if you were done with all us mortal slobs and moving on to 2.0, why didn’t you just kill us? Or didn’t you care enough to put us out of our misery? Is that who you are? One of those people who forgets their kid in the car on a hot day until it has a stroke?”

He doesn’t move or speak for a while. He just looks down into the street. A couple of raiders walk by, passing a bottle back and forth. Neshamah leans over the edge and spits, hitting one of the raiders on top of his head. He laughs.

“You broke my heart. Not you in particular. All humanity. And then there was the incident in Heaven with Lucifer and his juvenile delinquent friends. I had to throw a third of my children into the void. I think the ones that stayed, the quote ‘loyal ones,’ were just as bad if not worse. So puffed with their importance and self-righteousness. The funny thing is, I never really believed that Lucifer wanted my throne, but I think a few of the angels who stayed did. They saw my failure and felt entitled to it after they fought and won."leght and”

He shakes his head. Looks down while he bounces his heels off the building.

“Like any decent God, I willed myself into being. I created time, space, and matter and set out to construct a universe. When I was finished, nothing quite worked the way I wanted. The angels rebelled. The Kissi wreaked havoc. And all of you on earth, well, you were just you. Then one day I realized I wasn’t me anymore. I’d gone from one big me to five smaller ones. I never bothered trying to put myself back together. What was the point? Some of me wouldn’t want to do it and I didn’t want to fight with myself.”

“You know, I’m sure if you asked nicely, they could find a bed for you at the pretty hospital on the hill.”

“Watch your tone. I could turn the rest of you into an insect to match that arm.”

Just what I need. For this whole thing to turn even more Kafkaesque.

Adjust course.

“I’ve been wondering, who would build an asylum in Hell and who’d it be for?”

“Ah, that’s the first interesting thing you’ve asked,” says Neshamah. “Originally it was for the Fallen. Some of them went mad when they realized what they’d done and gave up. Occasionally damned human souls develop a similar condition, so when I took back this portion of Hell to create Eleusis for the heathens, I left the asylum intact. It’s pointless to punish the insane—they don’t understand what’s happening or why. Treatment helped them come back to themselves so they could properly resume their suffering.”

I rub my new arm where it meets my shoulder. The contrast between soft flesh and hard chitin is startling.

“You are one cold fucker,” I say.

“Coming from someone who blissfully hacked another sentient creature to death not an hour ago, that’s quite something.”

“Father Traven said something interesting about you. He used a word I’d never heard before, so I looked it up online. There was this Greek bunch called the Gnostics . . .”

He rolls his eyes.

“Not the fucking Gnostics, please.”

“They didn’t call you God. They called you the demiurge. They didn’t believe you’re an omnipotent übermensch. You’re more like one of those dads who tries to build a barbecue in the backyard only you can’t follow the instructions, so you lay out the bricks wrong and the cement dries too fast and the thing comes out as crooked as poker in Juarez. Then, around sunset, you announce it’s finished even though it looks like a onooks librick cold sore. You throw some T-bones in the fire and pretend it’s what you were going for all along. That’s what you did to the universe.”

He swings his legs back over the wall and hops down onto the garage roof. He smiles at me.

“You actually read something? There’s evidence of a true miracle, right up there with the loaves and fishes.”

“Why are you such an asshole when Muninn is such a good guy?”

He throws up his hands in disgust.

“Everyone is so in love with poor sweet Muninn. It’s why he’s always gotten his way. He hides down there in his cave collecting toys, holding on to the past because he doesn’t want to have to deal with any of this.” Neshamah gestures to the burning city. “But he’s part of our collective being, and as responsible for this disaster as any of the rest of us.”

“At least he’s not a whiner.”

“Take away his toys and see how long that lasts. Why do you think he’s hiding? He never learned to share.”

Neshamah takes a flask from an inside pocket. He unscrews the top and takes a long drink.

“Do you think I could have a hit off that? It’s been a long weird day.”

He shakes his head.

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“I drink Aqua Regia; how bad can this be?”

He shrugs and hands me the flask. I upend it and spit out everything that touches my tongue. Neshamah takes the flask away and bursts into belly laughs.

“What is that shit?”

“Ambrosia,” he says. “Food of the gods.”

He takes another sip and puts the flask back in his coat.

“So, if you’re down here and Muninn is on earth, where are the others?”

“Around. We travel a lot.”

“Are any of you in Heaven?”

“Always. At least one of us.”

“Lucifer knows you’re broken, doesn’t he?”

He nods.

“Lucifer was always the smart one. That’s why he and the kid never got along. One’s all heart and one’s all head.”

“This all happened after Lucifer left. Why don’t you send him down here to fix it?”

“It wouldn’t help. You’re right about one thing. I didn’t build everything as well as I might have. This was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Do the five of you know what the others hear and see?”

“Not everything. We like some privacy, too. Otherwise we’d all still be together.”

“Do they know about us talking right now?”

“They can hear every word.”

“Then you got the message I sent back with the angel from Eden?”

“We got it. You didn’t have to cut him up like that.” He nods at my new metal bug arm. “But I guess you’re even.”

I look away. The building the Kissi torched is really roaring. I can feel the heat all the way over here. I wonder if we should move, but Neshamah doesn’t seem worried, so I decide not to be.

“Maybe I was a little harsh. I’d just gotten over being dead. And he threw the first punch.”

“I guess that makes it all right, then.”

Neshamah walks across the parking lot and looks out over another part of Hell. The view isn’t any better from over here. I don’t say it because I can see it on his face.

He says, “He’s not Lucifer anymore, by the way. He’s Samael.”

“So I heard. Speaking of your kids, what’s the story with Aelita? She makes Lilith look like Mother Teresa. Didn’t she get enough face time with Daddy?”