“Why not?” A metal tentacle snaked out, curled around the stem of the glass and zipped it away out of sight. A door in the thing’s chest opened and a new chilled glass appeared, brimming with drink.

“And for Sire? Drinkey7’

I was in training and not ready to get smashed to the eyeballs on booze. “Diet—whiskey with a slice of fruit.”

“I can’t argue with that,” she finally said. “You are the best agent that Inskipp has. You know it and I can’t deny it. Mostly because you are not an effete trainee new to the job, or a dogooder officer of the law. Instead, you are basically a bent and twisted crook with a lifetime of experience—in crime.”

“You make it sound so good.”

“I should know. But that still doesn’t mean you go to Heaven alone. I’ll go with you.”

“No, you will not. You will keep the homefires burning, guard my back and..

“One more word of that male chauvinist pig dreck and I will claw your eyes out.”

When she used that tone of voice she meant it. I leaned back when I saw her fingers arch.

“I apologize, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Misplaced attempt at levity. I grovel at your feet,” I said, dropping to the floor and doing a nice grovel and writhe.

She had to laugh and the air was cleared and I took her hands in mine again. “I have to go, and I have to go alone.”

She sighed. “I know that, although I hate to admit it. But you will take care of yourself?”

“A promise—that I will keep.”

“When do you leave?”

“I’ll find out this afternoon. Our dear friend Coypu thinks he has finally licked the communication problem between us and the next universe.”

“I thought he said that it was impossible.”

“That was on a bad day. Today is a good one.” “I’ll go with you.”

The professor had tidied up all the breadboarded devices and looping wires that had made up his machine. Everything had now been integrated into a hulking black console that was all readouts and twinkling lights, tesla coils and glowing screen. Only the giant electrical cable was the same.

“Ah, James,” he said when we came in, turned and rattled through a file drawer. “I have something for you.”

He proudly produced a featureless flat black disk with a hole in the middle, dusted it off and passed it over.

“A music recording?” I asked, puzzled.

“You must not act like you have the intelligence level of plant life,” he miffed. “What you are holding is a singularly remarkable invention. It is solid—state, has no moving parts, and even the electrons are pseudo—electrons, so they move at zero speed. It is impossible to detect it or affect it in any way. I’ve tried it in a number of universes and it works fine.”

“What does it do?”

“When activated it signals the mother machine here. Which reaches out and brings you back. Simple.”

“It certainly is. But how do I activate it?”

“Even simpler. It detects brain waves. You think at it and it takes you home.”

I stared at the disk with admiration. What a wonder. I spun it on my finger. All I had to do was to think “Take me home…”

Then I was across the room and slammed up tight against the machine, my hand held to its surface by the disk, my finger through the hole feeling as though it had been amputated.

“Can’t… breathe I choked out. Coypu hit a switch and I dropped to the floor. “A few little adjustments will take care of that.”

I stood up, rubbing my sore ribs, still clutching the disk as I pulled my swollen finger out of the hole.

“Very impressive, “ Angelina said. “Thank you, Professor.

I’ll have less to worry about now. When does he leave?”

“Whenever he wants to.” He threw another switch and bolts of lightning coruscated deep inside the machine and the tesla coil snapped out loud sparks. “But there are a few other factors that must be considered before he departs. I managed to poke the tip of a universal analyzer through into Heaven. Some very interesting results. See.” A screen lit up filled with rolling numbers and wiggling graphs.

“See what?” I said. “Makes no sense to me.”

Coypu snorted with disgust and sneered with superiority. In that order. Then tapped the screen of the spectral gas analyzer. “It is obvious.”

“Only to a genius like you, Professor. Explain, please.”

I was sorry I asked. He explained at great and boring length. Gravity, air pressure, oxygen tension, speed of light, all that was okay. But there was too much more of electron spin, chaos dispersion, water quality, sewage disposal, fractal fracture and such. When he got on to analysis of atmospheric components I stopped him.

“What was that you said about some kind of gas?”

He pointed to the analysis bar on the screen. “This. A compound I have never seen before, so it has no name. I call it nitoxcubed. Because it acts somewhat like nitrous oxide.”

“Laughing gas?”

“Correct. But with the pleasure factor cubed. So everyone goes around half—stoned. Then, if they leave Heaven, they get withdrawal symptoms, as is noted in the interviews in the record.” “I don’t like that,” Angelina said. “Could be habit—forming and Jim has enough bad habits right now. Can you do anything about it?”

“Of course.” He held up a vial of purple liquid. “This will cancel the effects, an antidote. Roll up your sleeve, diGriz.” He filled a subdermal injector and gave my arm a spritz, blasting the antidote through my skin and right into my bloodstream. “This is the only precaution you need take. Are you ready to go now?” He pressed a button and power surged through the machine.

“No rush!” I said, suddenly feeling rushed. “I need a good meal and a night’s sleep first. We’ll do it tomorrow morning, nice and early, at the crack of dawn. I will be off to Heaven.”

We went out on the town that night, savoring the pleasures of this holiday world for the first time. Angelina and I held hands while Sybil had each of the lads by the arm and it was a great evening. The sound and light display was something else again, with an aurora borealis in the sky above and a two thousand—piece orchestra in the pit below. Food, the best. Drink, better. Except for me; with morning getting ever closer I stuck to the diet—whiskey.

At dawn, leaving Angelina smiling in her sleep, I tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed for my appointment with destiny.

“You’re late,” Coypu said belligerently. “Getting cold feet?”

“Kindly knock off the pep talk, Prof. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Do you have the interuniversal activator?” “Sealed inside my bootheel. We shall not be parted.”

“Good luck, then.” He threw more switches and the chine buzzed ominously. “The door is unlocked.”

I opened the garage door and peeked. It looked good. I threw it wide and stepped through.

Nice. A warm yellow sun shone in the blue sky above, very different from the bloated red one in Hell. A small white cloud floated by at shoulder height. I poked it with my finger and it bounced away, giving off a pleasant chiming sound.

The landscape was most serene, low rolling hills covered with short grass. A grove of trees nearby shaded what looked like a paved road. I walked over and poked it with my toe. It was indeed a road, paved with soft cobblestones, It wound out of sight among the trees to the right. To the left it curled up a valley into the hills. Which way should I go?

There was a distant rumble like thunder from the direction of the hills. Curiosity, as always, won. I went that way. Curiosity paid off pretty quickly when I saw the road junction ahead with pointing—finger signs. I approached them with great interest.

“Three ways to go,” I said, peering up at the boards. “I have apparently come from the direction of RUBBISH DUMF—Which does not sound too exciting so I shall not retrace my steps. But, problems, problems, how do I choose between VALHALLA and PARADISE?”

Paradise sounded Paradisical, and brought to mind that fine planet named Paraiso Aqui. Which indeed did become Paradise Here after I had been elected president. I had dim memories of Valhalla from my religious research, something to do with snow, axes and horned helmets. Paradise sounded much better