《The Problem of the Five》 Chapter 1 Thirty people shuffled into the conference room. Some were dazed, eyeing their surroundings in awe. Some were in shock, patting their bodies, exploring and looking for injuries where there were none. Still others were pretending composure, while their eyes darted cynically, searching for the key to the hoax. There was one figure whose face displayed no shock, no uncertainty. He was otherwise unremarkable. He wore a light blue shirt and black pants, appropriate for business casual at a workplace that is more business than casual. His outfit was at the midpoint of impeccable and disheveled. His hair the midpoint of full and bald. His face the midpoint of cherubic and gaunt. He spoke thusly: ¡°Welcome, everyone. Please, gather round, take a seat, there should be enough for everyone.¡± The bewildered masses sat, and indeed, there were exactly enough seats for all thirty of them. They were all dressed in identical off-white outfits that fit each person comfortably. They looked at each other, searching for familiar faces and finding none. Many avoided looking out the window, where an endless expanse of gray nothingness loomed. It was not a gray landscape; it was a void, and the eyes of many avoided it. Only the man in business casual remained standing. ¡°You may be wondering what is going on and where you are. By now, you have probably deduced that you have died and have left the earthly plane behind. But this new place is confusing to you. Why does it look like an office building, and not like what you imagined Heaven and Hell to be? And for you nonbelievers out there, you are probably wondering how there can be anything after death at all. Well, now I¡¯m going to tell you the truth about the afterlife. Yes, you died. Yes, there is an afterlife. I am the angel Ciriel, and I¡¯m in charge of this place. Please save your questions and religious objections for the end.¡± The man in business casual adjusted his glasses. Several people in the conference room had the thought that Ciriel looked a lot more like a middle manager than an angel, but none of them said so. ¡°So basically the Big Guy Upstairs created the universe blah blah blah, you know how it goes, except then he kind of went on an indefinite sabbatical to who knows where, leaving us angels as the administrators of the afterlife. For the first million years we would observe people¡¯s lives, judge their good and bad deeds, and sort them into Heaven and Hell accordingly. And of course we sent the vast majority of people to Heaven, because we are angels and we want people to be happy, even if they sinned a bit. Hell was reserved for the truly monstrous. But now there¡¯s a bit of a problem, which is that Heaven is running out of space. This is all true, for as an angel I cannot lie." The one called Ciriel spoke with authority, because he knew from decades of experience that confused people will believe anything if you say it confidently enough. ¡°And so, here are the rules. Every ¡®dawn¡¯ ¨C¡± he did air quotes ¨C ¡°anyone in the Breakroom of Ascension will be sent up to Heaven, to experience maximum bliss for all eternity. The Breakroom is just down the hall and to the left, over there, it¡¯s labeled, you can¡¯t miss it. As for ¡®dawn¡¯, that just means whenever the big ol¡¯ hourglass runs out; it should happen every five hours or so. But here¡¯s the catch ¨C there are thirty of you, and there are five slots available in Heaven. So once five of you ascend, the rest will be taken to Hell.¡± Silence in the conference room. ¡°Now, even though I¡¯m an angel or whatever, I¡¯m not going to pretend to judge you. I¡¯m going to leave that part up to y¡¯all. It¡¯s up to you lot to decide, according to whatever method you come up with, who you think is worthy to send up, and by extension, who will get sent down. Decide however you like. And take your time! If anyone dies in here they will automatically be sent to Hell, but that shouldn¡¯t be too much of a concern because you don¡¯t need food or water or sleep in the afterlife. Any questions? Great!¡± He gave no pause for questions whatsoever. ¡°Anyway, good luck to you all, and I¡¯ll see the lucky five of you up there! Toodaloo!¡± With that, a beam of blinding light poured from above, enveloping the man in business casual, and when the light faded and the people uncovered their eyes, the one called Ciriel had vanished, leaving the people in a bewildered silence. ~ Everyone looked at each other. No one spoke for a minute, while everyone waited for the angel to return. When it became clear that Ciriel was gone, maybe for good, the looks became more awkward, eye contact avoided. No one seemed to want to speak first. No one wanted to be the first to stand up. Into this silence a voice spoke. ¡°Okay, um, hi everyone! My name is Wendy, hi!¡± The ¡®um¡¯ was premeditated, meant to set the others at ease, to soften the force of a rhetorical expert. I¡¯m just like you, the ¡®um¡¯ said, isn¡¯t this a strange situation we find ourselves in, but by acknowledging the strangeness and awkwardness, we can bond and you can like and trust me. Wendy was dead, it was true, but that wouldn¡¯t stop her from doing what she did best, her skills honed over decades of a corporate career: taking charge. She continued: ¡°It seems we are all stuck in the same boat for now, so before we make any decisions, maybe we can all introduce ourselves? I can go first. Hi, I¡¯m Wendy, like I already said! And we can go in a circle this way?¡± She indicated the next person, who was strategically chosen: a girl who was perhaps barely out of high school, who looked scared enough to obey Wendy and get the ball rolling. ¡°Um, I¡¯m Vivian,¡± the girl said quietly. ¡°Nice to meet you, Vivian! And we can keep going around this way?¡± Wendy pointed. They followed the snaking path she indicated, each saying their name. Most people forgot most names, but Wendy did her best to remember them all. Knowing someone''s name was a form of power over them, and speaking it could show that you cared about them, that they should be on your team. ¡°Awesome!¡± Wendy said, after everyone had said their name. Already, people were looking to her for what should happen next, which was just how she wanted it. ¡°Great to meet you all. Now, I think we should figure out what to do. From what it sounds like, we are all dead, and we are in some sort of Limbo. And we can send up to five people up to Heaven. Does that sound right to y¡¯all?¡± Nods around the conference room. A middle aged man with a big beard named Tyler said, ¡°And the rest of us go to Hell, is what it sounds like.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my understanding as well,¡± Wendy replied. ¡°So it seems the thing to do is, we need to figure out, as civilly as possible, how to determine who we should send up to Heaven. Obviously, what makes the most sense is to decide democratically, or at least to use a majority vote to decide how we are going to decide.¡± Wendy was a quick thinker, and already she was envisioning a bloodbath, where people fought and clawed their way into the limited spots in the Breakroom of Ascension. If that were the case, she was screwed. She was a tiny middle aged lady, and many here were much more physically imposing. But if she set them on the path to decide socially, through conversation and thought rather than physical prowess ¨C well, manipulating people was what Wendy did best. ¡°Hold up,¡± said an older man named Quenton. ¡°Aren¡¯t we being a little hasty? What if this is a hoax? It¡¯s probably a hoax of some kind, right?¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± said Tyler. ¡°I died. I remember dying. This is definitely the afterlife.¡± ¡°I remember dying too,¡± Wendy said, unwilling to cede control of the conversation. ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask y¡¯all for the personal details of it, but do the rest of y¡¯all remember dying too?¡± Nods around the conference room. ¡°And, my body has been restored,¡± a young man named Thomas said. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure we aren¡¯t on Earth anymore.¡± Quenton looked a bit put out. ¡°Hey, it still makes sense to ask the question,¡± a woman named Claire said to Quenton, her voice loud enough that everyone was supposed to hear. ¡°And before we talk about deciding anything, shouldn¡¯t we see if there is a way out of here?¡± Already, Wendy got a bad vibe from Claire. She thought Claire might resent Wendy¡¯s role as leader, and that this could be a power move to gain control of the group and set them in a different direction. But Wendy was also self aware enough to consider that her bias against Claire might be because the other woman was demographically similar to her, but somewhat younger and prettier. ¡°That makes sense,¡± Wendy said. ¡°Let¡¯s all move as a group, so that we don¡¯t get separated. We have no idea what¡¯s out there.¡± And if they split up, it would be easier for other leaders to emerge. Better to keep everyone together, where they could be observed and controlled. Together, they shuffled out of the conference room and explored the office. It was all on one floor. The conference room was adjoined to a huge main room, with a few cubicles in the middle, the sort that would be for secretaries in a nice office. And the people the secretaries served would be in the full offices, which surrounded the main room. There was a corridor that looped behind the conference room, dotted throughout with office rooms. Each office had a window to the same gray nothingness. There were no other people to be found. The breakroom was hard to miss. For one thing, it was the only room that was labeled, and for another, it had an empty water cooler and a large but empty fridge. The fridge was unplugged, and there was no sign of wall sockets. Now that Wendy thought about it, all the ceiling lights were off too, although there was a soft ambient lighting illuminating the whole office complex that seemed to come from nowhere. There were five chairs in the breakroom, surrounding a table, and it was generally agreed upon by the group that these corresponded to the five spots in Heaven that would activate at dawn. Dawn was a bit confusing, since there was no sun, but the group determined that dawn was in fact an arbitrary time, which would occur when the sand in the hourglass ran out. The hourglass was the most ostentatious feature of the building. It hung suspended from the ceiling, in the big open area between the cubicles and the Breakroom. Other than the gray void beyond the windows, the hourglass was the only thing that didn¡¯t fit with the aesthetic of a standard office building. Sand slowly trickled out, but it would be hours yet before it fully drained. There were no doors out. No obvious way out of this building. No stairs up or down. They agreed that everyone would stay out of the Breakroom until they had made the determination of who to send to Heaven. Claire suggested they smash the windows and escape that way. ¡°Into the void of nothingness?¡± Wendy asked incredulously. ¡°What if that kills us all? More than we are already dead, I mean.¡± She wasn¡¯t entirely sure if she was saying this because she believed it, or merely to push back against Claire. ¡°It would be stupid not to look for a way out,¡± Claire said, ¡°And this is the most obvious way.¡± ¡°Ciriel said it¡¯s either ascend to Heaven or go to Hell, and angel¡¯s don¡¯t lie,¡± said Peter. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t defy God and try to infiltrate the afterlife.¡± ¡°But the angel also said that God wasn¡¯t here anymore. And that if we don¡¯t find a way out, that most of us are going to Hell,¡± Steven said. ¡°If He isn¡¯t here, I doubt He will mind us trying to find our own way. Especially because, I should hope that more than five of us deserve Heaven.¡± There were nods and murmurs of ascent. By now, most people had begun to realize that five out of thirty really wasn¡¯t very good odds. ¡°We should still be careful,¡± Wendy said, and this too got agreement. Eventually it was determined that they would take one of the wooden chairs from a cubicle and try with increasing strength to smash through the window. Two of the men would handle the smashing. As a precaution, everyone else sheltered in the conference room, in case this resulted in some sort of explosion or poisonous gas, in the hopes that sheltering might help. The men were Ryan, a tall dark and handsome guy, and Avery, a huge man who was incredibly buff and incredibly quiet. He had only spoken to share his name, and had merely stepped forward when they had discussed who would do the smashing. As Avery grabbed the chair, Wendy remembered what Ciriel had said: if they died in here, they were going straight to Hell. She hoped this wouldn¡¯t kill them all, as she had an aversion to eternal torment. Ryan stood to Avery¡¯s side, trying to look useful but unsure what he could contribute. Avery hoisted the chair and thrust it at the window. Wendy screwed her eyes shut, then after a second, opened them again. Nothing had happened. Avery drew back the chair again, and pushed it harder at the window. Nothing happened. Avery lifted the chair, positioned it carefully, then swung it with all his might at the window. He repeated this process a few times. Nothing happened. Eventually, Avery shook his head, and they all gathered around the window, which did not display so much as a scratch. ¡°Looks like angels never lie, after all,¡± Wendy said, almost succeeding in masking her smugness. ~ ¡°So,¡± Wendy said, when they had all returned to the conference room to discuss next steps, as she called it, ¡°We need to figure out how to figure out who to send to Heaven. Are we all good with deciding democratically ¨C and I don¡¯t necessarily mean deciding democratically who to send, although that is an option ¨C I mean deciding based on a majority vote how we should decide who to send.¡± She had already said this, Lucas recalled. He didn¡¯t begrudge her saying it again, just like he didn¡¯t begrudge her taking charge. It made sense that someone would lead their discussion, and he saw no reason it should be himself or anyone else. Lucas nodded, as did the majority of people. ¡°Great!¡± said Wendy. ¡°Now, I¡¯ll make the first suggestion, if y¡¯all don¡¯t mind, and suggest that we choose randomly who to send to Heaven. This is the fairest and simplest way. We can use the paper and pens from the cubicles, and there were trashbags in the trashcans, and I think they were clean, so we can draw names out of them if that works?¡± ¡°Actually, I have a suggestion,¡± Lucas said. He was shy, and had never been comfortable in the limelight. He had read that the greatest fears of Americans were death and public speaking, and he agreed with that, but now that he had gone through the former, the latter was less intimidating, or at least should have been. He cleared his throat, which had gone dry. ¡°I think we should all get to know each other. Share about ourselves, our lives, even our deaths, if we feel comfortable. Our deeds, our insecurities, our passions. Our relationships with ourselves, our families, our communities, and our religions and worldviews. And then, I guess we can vote, we can make the determination as humans, as moral agents, we can decide who is worthy. I know it might be uncomfortable to share so much with a bunch of random strangers ¨C I know I would be uncomfortable ¨C but I think it could be cathartic, too.¡± ¡°Thank you for the suggestion, Lucas,¡± Wendy said. ¡°Any thoughts from the group?¡± A man raised his hand, which created a precedent of hand raising, prompting a few more hands. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go one at a time,¡± Wendy said, standing at the front of the room like a teacher, complete with a whiteboard behind her. She stood in the same exact position as Ciriel had. ¡°First, Mark.¡± ¡°I¡¯m from America ¨C probably a lot of you are ¨C and in America, we value democracy. I support voting.¡± Wendy said, ¡°Quick question, who here is from America? I expect most of us? Better question, is anyone here not from America? No, no one? Interesting. Well thank you, Mark. Trinity?¡± Trinity gave off the air of a sorority girl, the kind of person Lucas would have been friends with ten years ago, because he wanted everyone to think he was cool. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t think sharing our stories makes any sense,¡± she said, ¡°Because people would lie. We would be incentivized to lie. Everyone would spin stories about how virtuous and deserving we are. We would wind up choosing not the most virtuous people, but the most devious. So I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea.¡± ¡°Um,¡± Lucas said, and Wendy nodded at him, giving him permission to speak. ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on lying. Honestly, it didn¡¯t even occur to me.¡± Trinity looked like she wanted to argue, so Lucas added: ¡°Although, I suppose there is no way for me to prove that I¡¯m telling the truth about that, either.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Wendy said, ¡°Anyone want to respond?¡± The conversation continued for an hour or so, but by the end of it, no one was able to propose a method that made sense. Wendy called for a vote, and almost everyone agreed that random was the way to go. Chapter 2 Ryan held his breath as Wendy reached down and stirred the names in the trash bag. They had raided the building for office supplies, finding a ruler, scissors, paper, and pens. They had cut the paper rectangles evenly with great care, so that it would be impossible to tell by feel alone whose was whose, and they had all ensured they folded them identically, so there could be no foul play. Ryan had considered folding her paper in some clever way that made it more likely to be selected, except he couldn¡¯t think of what that fold might be. Wendy unfolded the paper. Her hands were not shaking, which was impressive. Ryan was barely keeping himself from quaking in fear, and he was surely one of the hardest people here. Eternal bliss versus eternal torment, and it all came down to a lottery. Could this really be happening? It didn¡¯t make any sense, and yet the angel had said this was how it was, and angels never lied. ¡°Alexandra,¡± Wendy read. ¡°Oh my gosh!¡± a woman gasped from the back of the room. People turned to look, and from the sound of it, Alexandra was crying softly. Ryan didn¡¯t turn, though. He kept her eyes on Wendy, searching for signs of foul play. Wendy fished around in the trash bag, keeping her eyes averted. She drew forth another name. ¡°Thomas.¡± The young man in the front row jolted slightly, putting his hands on the empty chairs beside him for balance, but otherwise did not react. ¡°Rhiannon.¡± A shriek from a tall woman, who then said: ¡°Wait, did she say Rhiannon?¡± ¡°Yes, aren¡¯t you listening?¡± snapped Josh, a short young man who was clearly just frustrated that it wasn¡¯t his name that had been called. Wendy drew the next name. ¡°Anita.¡± Anita smiled peacefully, as if she had always known it was going to be her. Was there more than pure randomness going on here? Was what seemed like dumb luck actually divine intent? Was all of this happening according to God¡¯s plan? What if those chosen were actually those who were most worthy? Ryan prayed, prayed like he never had before. He confessed his sins in his mind: his cruelty to his ex husband, who had not entirely deserved it, done out of hurt. His pettiness to his fellow schoolteachers, done out of pride and jealousy and insecurity in his own competence. His departure from the church, as he discovered his identity and broke with his family. Please, he thought, please, I love you, God. You are the one true God. Please let it be me. I know I haven¡¯t been perfect, I know I could have been a better partner and I know I punctured my neighbor¡¯s tires and blamed it on her dog, but please, let me into your realm, I promise for the rest of time I will be better, I will practice kindness and devotion, please let me in! Wendy reached in the bag, calmly. Ryan realized Wendy¡¯s name hadn¡¯t come up yet. What if it did? Would everyone think it was fraud, especially since it was the final name? Would Ryan have another chance, if that happened? Wendy¡¯s expression remained impassive as she read the final name: ¡°Josh.¡± Everything was still for seven seconds. Then all Hell broke loose. ~ ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± ¡°This was always a stupid method of choosing!¡± ¡°I refuse to abide by these results!¡± ¡°Hey, we had a plan, and we should stick to it. Just because you didn¡¯t get what you wanted, doesn¡¯t mean ¨C¡± ¡°You¡¯re only saying that cause you got lucky!¡± ¡°I think there was collusion. How do we know that Wendy didn¡¯t cheat ¨C¡± ¡°Because she didn¡¯t wind up choosing her own name, you think skulled ¨C¡± ¡°This is a sham ¨C¡± ¡°A disgrace!¡± ¡°A mockery of God!¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s you who is making a mockery of democracy? What about all that stuff you said about what America stands for? We all agreed on this ¨C¡± ¡°I demand a redo!¡± ¡°Why, cause you lost? And if you aren¡¯t chosen again, are you going to keep calling redos until you win?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but this is ridiculous. I¡¯ve spent my whole life helping others. I ran a soup kitchen for twenty years. And I¡¯ve gone to church every Sunday for my entire life. I¡¯ve lost my husband and one of my children, and throughout I¡¯ve remained devout. Now, I¡¯m not saying I deserve Heaven ¨C that¡¯s not for me to judge ¨C but the idea that my eternal afterlife should be decided by a random drawing is, frankly, insulting.¡± The argument continued, and the hourglass ticked down. Wendy made sure to speak the right amount ¨C above average, enough to defend herself, but not to be too loud of a voice. Everything was going according to plan. She had felt the tiny folded corner of her piece of paper as she put it in the bag, and deliberately made sure not to pick it. Because of course there was no way the five sixths of the group who weren¡¯t picked were going to let the results stand, no matter how fair it was. ¡°We can at least agree to leave off any final decisions until the next dawn,¡± Wendy said. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be rash.¡± Her biggest fear was that people would rush the Breakroom, and all five slots would be taken before she had a chance. ¡°I don¡¯t see why we need to wait,¡± Josh said. ¡°We had a method, we all agreed to it, there is no need to second guess. It¡¯s not complicated. Stop being so biased.¡± Kyle was quick to respond. ¡°Oh, and who¡¯s unbiased? You? You were chosen; I hardly think it¡¯s a coincidence that you want to go through with this stupid method.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you vote for this stupid method? You¡¯re all just sore losers and hypocrites.¡± As the argument devolved, people had stood up, and gradually the main mass of people had shifted out into the larger main area. ¡°Let¡¯s not be rash,¡± Wendy kept repeating. She had to shout, but people listened to her ¨C they were already in the habit. ¡°We agreed to decide everything as a group, so as a group, we shouldn¡¯t let anyone into the Breakroom until we come to a final decision.¡± No one was willing to argue with that. The arguments about the names continued, but Wendy tuned it out. The hourglass was almost entirely out, and she watched the Breakroom as the last grains drained, curious about what might happen. And then suddenly, somehow, there was a person in the breakroom, a young woman, one of their number ¨C how had she gotten there? Wendy started to shout, but it was too late now, there was no time ¨C Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ~ Lucile¡¯s heart was going crazy. Her limbs were all asleep, from how she had folded them in painful positions to fit inside the fridge, which had barely fit her, despite her petiteness. She had left the fridge door ajar, praying no one would notice her eyes peeking through the crack, looking at the hourglass. She didn¡¯t know for sure if she could make it to Heaven from inside the fridge, but she decided it was better not to risk it. She should be able to leave the fridge, sit in one of the five Rolly Chairs of Ascension, and get beamed up or whatever before anyone had time to react, if she could time it perfectly. And time it perfectly she had. The hourglass was on its last grains when she flopped her way out of the fridge, limbs screaming in pain, but it would all be worth it when she got into Heaven ¨C eternal bliss, can you imagine? And she sat in the chair, which as far as she could tell was a normal office chair, waiting for her ascension ¨C Suddenly something emerged from beneath the table, something huge, and before she could react, it grabbed her and lifted her, and her thrashing limbs failed to resist, and it carried her out of the Breakroom and dumped her on the floor in front of everyone. It was Avery, the massive man who had previously slammed the chair against the window to no avail. He shook his head at her sadly, even as she was thinking you idiot! We could have both gone to Heaven if we had just stayed! Someone started clapping, and everyone else joined in, and they were all applauding Avery, but Lucile couldn¡¯t look, turned away in shame. And she looked at the Breakroom, as the sand ran out, and just before it did, someone stepped out from behind the refrigerator, (how had she not noticed him?), and it was Quenton, and he sat in a chair with a victorious look on his face. And the sand ran out, and there was a resounding chime that was high pitched and yet Lucile somehow felt it deep in her bones, and a beam of light descended in the Breakroom, covering Quenton, and when it faded there was no sign of the man or the chair he had sat on. The people looked on in silence. The hourglass flipped over of its own volition and began trickling down the time until the next dawn. ~ Wendy couldn¡¯t believe she had let this happen. She had been aware of the danger, she had been vigilant, and made sure not to let anyone near the Breakroom as the sand ran down ¨C But she had failed to realize that people could already be in there, hiding, and there had been not just one, but three people in there somehow, and only the selflessness of Avery had prevented their meager five slots remaining from dwindling to a measly two. The first order of business was to make sure this never happened again. There was masking tape in one of the cubicles, and she taped off a thick, clear line on the floor, in a fifteen foot radius around the door to the Breakroom, and Wendy made absolutely clear to everyone, and made absolutely sure that they agreed, that no one was to pass the line, and if anyone did, everyone else was to immediately go after them and grab them and bring them back and no need to treat them gently, because they were trying to steal a spot in Heaven. The next order of business was politics. ¡°We should have some way to reward Avery,¡± she announced. They were back in the conference room, and she counted the chairs to be absolutely sure she hadn¡¯t lost track of anyone again, since there were thirty chairs and thirty in their death group. Only two chairs were vacant ¨C one for Quenton, and one for Wendy herself, who stood in front of the room, teacher style. ¡°Reward how?¡± Josh challenged. ¡°You want to give him a kiss, or something?¡± Everyone glared at him and made sounds of disapproval. Even in Limbo, some things were off limits. ¡°Why don¡¯t you give him a kiss yourself, you homo,¡± Lucile muttered, and everyone turned their glares on her. She sat in the middle of the room, and both vacant seats were next to her. ¡°There¡¯s a pretty obvious reward we can give,¡± Wendy said. ¡°A slot in Heaven. If anyone is worthy, surely someone who would pass up his own chance at Heaven to protect fairness is deserving.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair!¡± said Josh. ¡°Yeah, so we should discuss that,¡± Wendy replied. ¡°Obviously, we did use the random ballot method, and came to a result, but now through foul play beyond our control, there are only four slots remaining, and five people who we selected. So as I see it, there are three options. We could randomly choose four of the five people to get the remaining spots. We could redraw four new people from the pool of all twenty eight of us. Or we could use some other method that¡¯s less random, including potentially finding a way to reward those ¨C¡± she indicated Avery ¨C ¡°who have proven their worth.¡± ¡°We should just do random from us five who were already selected,¡± Josh said, ¡°That¡¯s the only fair way to do it.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t fair at all!¡± Elena shouted. ¡°What about Avery? What about all of us?¡± Josh said, ¡°If you insist, we can add Avery, and just choose three of us five. But that does depart from the original agreement.¡± ¡°This is stupid,¡± Lucile said. ¡°You are all stupid. Random was always a stupid method, but so is every other way. The only one who wasn¡¯t stupid was Quenton, and he¡¯s in a better place now.¡± ¡°I hate to say this, but I agree with her,¡± George said. ¡°Not with everything she said, of course, but I agree that random is never going to be a satisfying method. We should use some sort of method that is more deliberate.¡± There were nods. ¡°Okay,¡± Wendy said, ¡°Seems like there is some support for that idea. Let¡¯s take a vote ¨C all in favor of abandoning randomness as a method, and using some other method?¡± It didn¡¯t take long for the majority of hands to be raised. When Thomas saw that there was going to be a majority, he raised his hand too, and said ¡°I mean, yeah, even though I was selected, I agree that there is no particular reason.¡± ¡°This is bullshit,¡± Josh said. ¡°If this is all just another test from God, to see who is honorable, you are all failing.¡± There was an uncomfortable pause. ¡°No, angels don¡¯t lie,¡± said Wendy. ¡°Now: what should our new method of deciding be? Heads up folks, I know it¡¯s been a long day, but I¡¯m pretty sure we don¡¯t need to sleep or eat in this place, so let¡¯s focus up.¡± ~ ¡°Hi there,¡± Thomas said. The older man grunted. ¡°My name is Thomas. Nice to meet you! What¡¯s your name?¡± He stuck out his hand. The older man stared at the extended hand. ¡°... Loris,¡± he said eventually. He did not shake hands. Thomas withdrew his hand, using it to rub the back of his neck. ¡°Ah, nice to meet you,¡± he said again. ¡°I¡¯m from Upstate New York, although I went to college in California, which is where I, you know, died. It was a truck that hit me, can you believe? It was over in an instant.¡± Thomas forced a laugh. ¡°Anyway, what about you, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± ¡°I do.¡± Loris said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I do.¡± ¡°You do what?¡± ¡°I do mind you asking.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Thomas laughed nervously. ¡°Well. Sorry to bother you, then. And nice to meet you, Loris!¡± Thomas had learned, back on Earth, that to ingratiate yourself to people it was best to use their names. It showed respect, or attention, or something. And he had to ingratiate, because this was the new method. He had been screwed out of his life, getting killed by a truck that had surely not had the right of way. And then he had been screwed out of his lottery success. It had seemed too good to be true, that he would go to Heaven for eternal bliss based solely on a random drawing, and of course it had been too good to be true. But he wouldn¡¯t give up. That was what he had learned, back in his business classes. It was really the only thing he had learned. Success took hard work and charm, and charm was hard work. He searched for people in the crowd ¨C who would be most susceptible to his charms? Who could he convince that he was likeable, that he was virtuous, that he was deserving of one of the four remaining slots in Heaven? But before Thomas could pick out his next target, someone approached him. She was short, surely under five feet, and he remembered her name only because he had thought she was hot. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should say her name, to connect, or not say it, to show he wasn¡¯t a creep, but while he was being indecisive she spoke: ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Thomas.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Trinity. Let me cut right to the chase: are you trustworthy?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to think so!¡± ¡°Good. Let¡¯s agree to both vote for each other, then?¡± ¡°Oh. Um, yeah, for sure. Definitely.¡± ¡°Nice. And keep it on the down low. There¡¯s only four slots, after all.¡± Thomas nodded. This made so much more sense than his strategy. Why bother ingratiating yourself to random people when you could just bargain with them? Better to use what leverage you had ¨C your own votes. Thomas headed off into the crowd, looking for his next target. Every person got four votes, for who they thought should go to Heaven, to be cast before the next dawn. The rules were, you had to use all four, they had to be for four different people, and you couldn¡¯t vote for yourself. This had been determined by the quorum. That meant that the average number of votes someone would get would be four. Most people will probably get fewer, but some will get more. As a matter of pure statistics, it was unlikely that too many people will have more than seven or eight votes. If he could find four more people to swap votes with, and then just ingratiate himself with a few more to earn their votes, he should have a good shot of making it to the top four, and securing eternal bliss. Chapter 3 Lucas didn¡¯t know what to do. He was good with people, he was likeable, it was a compliment he always got, at least back when he was alive. Everyone had said so. But this wasn¡¯t just about being friendly. He had been friendly, and tried to chat with Wendy, Anita, and Milo, but he had been able to tell right away that the conversations were fake. He was good at reading people, and he knew that these people didn¡¯t want to get to know him. They were cold. Did something happen to people when they died, that made them this way? He had tried with others, to share about himself, his family, his life and death, and asked after theirs, and no one had wanted to talk. ¡°Rough out there, huh?¡± a voice said. Lucas turned. It was Lucile. The young woman stood at the periphery of the room, gazing at all the hushed conversations taking place in front of them. She continued: ¡°See, it¡¯s obvious why they won¡¯t talk to me. Everyone hates me, because I was the only one smart enough to do the obvious thing and go for the Chairs of Ascension, and now I¡¯ve become taboo. They don¡¯t like when someone tries to steal the spot that they feel they so deserve.¡± ¡°That¡­ sounds hard,¡± Lucas said. She snorted. ¡°What are you, a therapist?¡± ¡°No, I mean, I¡¯m just saying your feelings are valid¡­¡± ¡°Who cares if my feelings are valid? Probably therapy is fake and doesn¡¯t work, and even if this hippy dippy bullshit does by some miracle give me a single iota of happiness, it won¡¯t matter. Because in a few short hours, I¡¯m going to be suffering for all eternity. How I feel now pales in comparison.¡± ¡°I can see why that would be really stressful,¡± Lucas said. ¡°I cannot believe you just said that. Are you not listening to what I¡¯m saying?¡± ¡°Um, sorry?¡± ¡°You actual idiot,¡± Lucile marveled. ¡°I cannot believe you just said that. I actually cannot believe it.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± a voice said, ¡°Don¡¯t bother with her.¡± The newcomer was Ryan, the man who had volunteered to try smashing the window with Avery. Lucas attempted a smile at him. Lucile said, ¡°Oh yes, don¡¯t mind me. Go on ignoring me just cause I¡¯m the only honest one. It¡¯s not like every single other person here is also plotting how they can lie and cheat and steal their way to Heaven right now, politicking and lying and doing all sorts of sin. But no, it¡¯s me who is the bad one, just cause I was smarter, I had a better idea than them, even though it didn¡¯t work.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± Ryan said, ¡°Let¡¯s go talk over there.¡± He indicated a cubicle at the side of the room. ¡°Okay, sure, sounds good.¡± Lucas said. ¡°Yes, run away,¡± Lucile called. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, probably in Hell.¡± Lucas shuddered. That girl was so incredibly unsettling, despite her being at least a decade younger than him. ¡°Hey, thanks for that,¡± Lucas said as they walked across the room. ¡°Ryan, right? I¡¯m Lucas.¡± ¡°Nice to meet you,¡± Ryan said, offering his hand. He had a firm handshake. ¡°And don¡¯t mention it. Seemed like you found yourself in a bit of a crazy interaction, and I thought I¡¯d just offer a way out.¡± ¡°Yeah, I really appreciate it. Is everyone here like that, or are there any normal people here? You are the first person I¡¯ve talked to who seems like a good guy.¡± Ryan gave a good natured laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d say I¡¯m a good guy. But yeah, this whole situation is extremely uncomfortable, and it makes it hard to see the best in people. But that said, I¡¯ve been talking to a few others who I think are chill, and you seem cool too, so I was hoping you¡¯d come join our squad?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± said Lucas. ~ ¡°Hey. Alexandra, right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. And you¡¯re Wendy, yeah?¡± ¡°That¡¯s me. So, you want to go to Heaven, right?¡± ¡°Well of course, I mean, doesn¡¯t anyone?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to cut to the chase here: you seem like a good person to work with. I¡¯ve been watching you, and you remind me of myself when I was your age.¡± ¡°Uh, thank you!¡± ¡°And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s fair how you got screwed out of your spot in the random ballots, even though you did nothing wrong, and you acted with dignity and honor. That¡¯s why I¡¯m talking to you here, one on one, instead of choosing someone else. Because I believe if we work together, we can both get into Heaven. But it¡¯s important that you follow my instructions exactly. Do you think you can do that?¡± ¡°Yeah, for sure. I¡¯m good at following directions. You want me to vote for you, I assume? But I don¡¯t see how that will get us there¡­¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to vote for me. Vote for whoever you want. That part doesn¡¯t matter. What you need to do is, while everyone is distracted, get a dry erase marker from one of the cubicles¡­¡± ~ Justin sat alone in a cubicle, listening to the conversations surrounding him but not participating. Even in death, he was a coward. Even when it was a matter of eternal bliss versus eternal torture, he still couldn¡¯t bring himself to start conversations. It was just too scary. There was no reason for him to be this shy. It was a weakness that was his and his alone. A failing of his character. He was weak willed. If he couldn¡¯t even muster the bravery to have one conversation, surely he didn¡¯t deserve Heaven. Justin had lived alone most of his life, worked solitary jobs, first as a trash collector, then as a day trader in stocks and cryptocurrencies. Even when he became rich ¨C whether through his own intelligence or through the luck of the market, he still did not know ¨C he was never able to converse with anyone. Forget meeting a romantic partner, forget making friends ¨C he couldn¡¯t even bring himself to talk to people at the grocery checkout line! Over time he drew further into himself, as modern conveniences allowed him to get food left outside his door, no interaction necessary. He paid rent digitally, and only talked to his landlord through emails. Even that level of contact left him with crippling anxiety. In the end, he had died of what was probably a preventable, treatable condition, just because he was too afraid to talk to a doctor. The irony of it was that Justin was a singer. He was quite good at it, writing and recording his own songs that he would never be able to share with anyone. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure who he was writing and recording these songs for, save for a vague fantasy that they would be discovered after he was long dead, and his name would go down in history as one of the greatest artists of all time. But he had never made any arrangements for his music to be discovered, and now here he was, dead, his music in a folder in a password locked computer in an apartment where they wouldn¡¯t even notice anything was wrong until rent was due in a month. At least he had made arrangements for his finances to be donated to charity, some small part of him thinking that if there was an afterlife, maybe this would win him a spot up there. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. He hadn¡¯t spoken since dying, except to say his name when they had all said their names, and even then his mouth had gone dry and he had mumbled and tripped over his own name. And now here he was, at the periphery of the room, watching the mingling unfold, too afraid to take any action even to save his immortal soul. He watched Thomas eagerly soliciting votes, and wondered what the difference between them was. He watched Lanie, Lucas, Ryan, Julie, and Maya form a group of five that promised to all vote for each other, and wondered why he had never been able to be part of a group. And he watched Steven approach Claire at the side of the room, the tall man concealing a knife behind his back where only Justin could see it, and he knew what was about to happen, but even now he couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak up. ~ Claire still didn¡¯t know how she had died. It had been murder, that much was certain. What else could bring her from peacefully asleep to the gray office building of Limbo with only an instant of pain? But who had done it? That was the question. Had it been a rival of her husband¡¯s criminal empire, seeking vengeance for some grievance? Had it been one of her husband¡¯s other lovers, motivated by jealousy? Or had it been her husband himself, as in a fit of rage he had figured out how Claire had defied him, how she planned to steal all his assets and flee the country? Claire tried to convince herself that it didn¡¯t matter anymore. Either way, whoever had done it, she was here now, and they were back on Earth. But she couldn¡¯t stop herself from caring. Whoever it was, they were going to wind up in the afterlife at some point, and she was going to find them and make them pay. She was glad Hell existed, because some people deserved it. Her first impression of her twenty nine compatriots was that they were soft. Many were elderly, probably having died of natural causes. A few were younger, but she figured they¡¯d had diseases or maybe taken their own lives. She was probably the only one who had been murdered. Maybe a few were different ¨C Quenton and Wendy sprang to mind ¨C but most of the group was weak. The softies expected compassion and democracy and prayer to save them, but Claire didn¡¯t put her trust in any of these things. She knew the way the world really worked. And so while the softies were arguing about the most democratic methods of decision making, Claire explored. First she tried to find a way out, even if out meant going into the gray void. But the office was airtight. There were no hidden doors, no cracks and no passages. Next she checked all the cabinets. Most were empty. Some had normal office things: paper, staplers, three ring binders. But in a long drawer in the corner of one of the random offices, labeled with a sticky note saying look in here!!!, she found something else. Weapons. Guns and knives, arrayed on a long rack. Claire noticed several odd things about the weapons, beyond the mere fact that you wouldn¡¯t expect dozens of weapons housed in a random unlocked drawer in any office building she knew of. The knives were all identical blades, and the guns were all identical pistols. Claire knew her way around guns, and this gun wasn¡¯t any make she recognized. Rather, it seemed to be a hybrid of the most common pistols ¨C an idealized version of a gun, as if dreamed up by someone who had never used an actual weapon in their life. The knife was similar. Each pistol was loaded with six shots already in the chamber, and the safeties were on. She counted the weapons. Suspiciously, there were slots on the rack for exactly thirty pistols and thirty knives. Only twenty-nine of each were present. Someone had been here before her. She wasn¡¯t going to die again, not without a fight. She grabbed one of the guns, tucking it into the fold of her pants. It fit perfectly, hidden, as if it had been made to go with these pants ¨C the pants that she and the others had all been wearing when they appeared in this world. Interesting. Claire resolved not to tell the group about the weapons. They would find them on their own, or they wouldn¡¯t. Surely by now everyone had realized what this situation really meant. Thirty people, and only five slots in Heaven. It was kill or be killed, and Claire didn¡¯t intend to be killed. Not again. ~ The mingling was cut off by a gunshot. Everyone turned and looked, and saw the smoking gun in Claire¡¯s hand. The body of Steven fell to the ground beside her. ¡°He was trying to kill me,¡± Claire said, very calmly. She set the gun down. ¡°Um, sorry what?¡± Anita said. ¡°How do you have a gun?¡± Josh shouted. ¡°How do we know he was trying to kill you?¡± Wendy said. Lucile, of all people, jumped to Claire¡¯s defense. ¡°He was attacking her, I saw! He had a knife, he was going to stab her!¡± ¡°He was,¡± said Ryan, ¡°I saw it.¡± At the periphery of the group, Justin nodded very slightly, but no one saw. Everyone looked to Steven¡¯s limp hand, which was indeed wrapped around a sharp knife. Then something even more unexpected happened. The floor under Steven¡¯s corpse turned transparent, and Steven¡¯s body sank through. As the corpse fell, it opened its eyes and began flailing and screaming. Steven had returned to life again, but this time it was for the worse, because as they all watched, he sank into a vast fiery cavern. But there was something wrong down there, something so horribly evil and violative, like your worst nightmare had corrupted your best memory, like you were never going to be okay again, and it was just going to get worse and worse forever, and the shape of the figures down there was twisted and contorted in unnatural ways, the flesh melted and sawed and reattached and it was so wrong that every single one of them looked away, unable to bear it. ¡°Holy shit,¡± Ryan said. ¡°That¡­ must be Hell,¡± Wendy said. ¡°No shit,¡± said Lucile, but she sounded shaken, and there was no venom in her voice. As they watched, the floor returned to normal, leaving no trace of Steven but for a few drops of blood, a knife, and a gun. ¡°It was self defense,¡± said Claire again. ¡°He was just attacking me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Wendy said. ¡°If he had killed you, it would be you going down there instead.¡± ¡°What I don¡¯t understand,¡± Josh said, pointing at Claire, ¡°is how is she so calm?¡± ¡°Because I knew this was going to happen,¡± Claire said. It was only now that her calm broke, and she became ever so slightly impassioned. ¡°That¡¯s where all of us are going. All of us but five. I didn¡¯t know it was going to be me that he attacked, but I knew this was bound to happen at some point. I¡¯m not even mad at him. If you¡¯d been paying attention, you would know. You would know this was bound to happen eventually, because this is in fact a zero sum game.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± said Wendy. ¡°But where the He¨C¡± she couldn¡¯t say it ¨C ¡°Where the heck did you get the gun?¡± ~ Vivian reminded herself to breathe. It was what the doctors had told her. Remember to breathe. As if her body wasn¡¯t capable of performing basic functions itself. As if she were an idiot, and if she could simply remember to respirate, perhaps the cancer would decide to leave her alone. It seemed that even now, with her body restored to perfect condition, she still harbored resentment for the doctors. Even though she knew, as she had always known, that the doctors weren¡¯t the problem, that they were trying their hardest at the insurmountable task of fixing her. And though she might resent the doctors, as always, she still followed their advice, and forced herself to breathe. She resisted the urge to hide. She had thought she had found peace. Freedom from the pain, from the endless therapies, from the friends and family pretending to be strong when they were so obviously terrified. But now it turned out there was an afterlife. And that, by some twist of fate, it was almost certain that she would spend the rest of eternity in Hell. She choked back a sob. How was everyone not terrified right now? And at the same time, how were they all acting all cordial? There were weapons here, for God¡¯s sake, weapons that could send them into the land of eternal torment, which she still couldn¡¯t get out of her head. How were the others not breaking down, or making a break for the Chairs of Ascension? Vivian had thought about it of course, had almost made a run for it that first dawn. But she had stopped herself, because even if by some miracle she made it, she wouldn¡¯t deserve Heaven. She would be stealing the spot from someone else. The fact that she had even considered it brought her great shame. Finally, she couldn¡¯t stop herself. She ducked away, in a random out-of-the-way office. There was a floor level cabinet under the desk, and she pulled herself in, shutting the door behind and curling up in the darkness. If she was going to Hell, so be it. Surely it couldn¡¯t be much worse than she was already feeling. Chapter 4 Claire led them to the armory, because what else could she do? ¡°Here it is,¡± she announced, opening the drawer. ¡°And you neglected to mention this until now?¡± Wendy said. ¡°Saved my ass, didn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°What should we do with these?¡± Ryan asked. Elena said, ¡°I vote no one should touch them. We should put the gun back and leave it shut. This stuff is dangerous.¡± ¡°This place is dangerous,¡± Josh said. ¡°What if we need to protect ourselves?¡± ¡°From what? It¡¯s not like there are wild bears or anything here.¡± ¡°To protect us from each other, obviously,¡± Peter said. ¡°Guns are the great equalizer. Would you rather we all have weapons, or only some of us do?¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather no one have weapons!¡± Elena said. ¡°Bit late for that,¡± Claire said dryly. After some discussion, the pacifists were overruled. It was agreed that anyone who wanted a weapon would take one. Even Lucile was allowed a gun, the reasoning being, everyone could keep watch on her if she tried anything devious. In total, twenty guns and thirteen knives were taken. There were only six people who took no weapons at all. ¡°Thirty guns, thirty knives, thirty of us,¡± Elena said. ¡°What does it mean?¡± Wendy shrugged. ¡°It means, the Lord provides,¡± Josh said. He cocked his gun as he spoke, probably thinking it would make him look cool. He failed. The gun didn¡¯t need cocking, not at this point, but Claire didn¡¯t feel the need to educate him, or anyone for that matter. Better that she retain as many advantages as she could. ~ I shall have to vote for someone who is sure to lose. So that I don¡¯t use my own vote to help someone else defeat me. Who can I vote for who is guaranteed not to get any votes? Lucile ¨C everyone hates her. And that old guy, what was his name? Loris. There is no way anyone else will vote for him. Then I might as well vote for Avery, since he is sure to win anyway. And lastly, Trinity, as per our agreement. Thomas wrote his four votes on four slips of paper. There was a complex system they had worked out over almost an hour of discussion for how votes would be verified, the gist of which being that they would also vote for themselves on a fifth sheet of paper, slide these papers anonymously through a crack to a trusted team of three who would ensure they didn¡¯t see the same name twice, and then move them onward to a bag, out of which they would later be drawn to be tallied in front of the group. This method would cause everyone to get an extra vote for themselves but that shouldn¡¯t change the results at all, since they would just subtract one from everyone¡¯s score. It was with cautious optimism that Thomas watched the votes counted. He had his four deals, a vote for a vote, even if he had only followed through on one of them himself. And since he hadn¡¯t followed through on some of them, those people should be getting one vote fewer than him, since he was confident they had indeed voted for him. And on top of that, he felt good about a lot of the schmoozing he had done. For some reason there were a bunch of old ladies here ¨C surely they couldn¡¯t resist his charms. It took a while for the votes to all be counted, as each name in the bag was removed one by one, read by anyone who wanted to to verify there wasn¡¯t any dirty play, and a tally mark was added to an ongoing list. Even before the list was done, it was clear things had gone wrong. When the final ballot was tallied, there was outrage. It went like this:
  1. Lucile - 15 votes
  2. Avery - 13 votes
  3. Trinity - 10 votes
  4. Ryan - 8 votes
The next highest was seven people tied at four votes. Thomas himself only received two. ~ ¡°This is absurd,¡± Anita said. ¡°This is even worse than random.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a mockery of democracy,¡± Mark said. ¡°This is not the rational, informed American democracy I referred to earlier. This is a kangaroo democracy.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not so sure your prized American democracy is much different.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I love democracy!¡± Lucile announced, grinning ear to ear. ¡°The people have spoken, and it is their will that I ascend! Who am I to disagree with the will of the polis?¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± said Josh, waving his hand at Lucile. ¡°And anyway, how could you all vote for her?¡± ¡°Can you please, for the love of God, not gesture with the gun in your hand?¡± Wendy said. Maya said, ¡°There must be an error. How would over half of us vote for Lucile? It makes no sense. She tried to steal a spot in Heaven, and she is, forgive my language, kind of a fucking bitch.¡± ¡°Obviously people love me!¡± Lucile said. ¡°Just look at the votes!¡± She did a little dance. ¡°But if you idiots really haven¡¯t realized yet, what happened is you are all selfish, and you all broke your promises or whatever, and voted for the person you thought least likely to win, which was yours truly, because you didn¡¯t want to vote for someone who might surpass you. Except you didn¡¯t realize that most of you are this devious, and you all voted for me. But so it goes! Sucks to suck. Should have used ranked choice, losers.¡± ¡°Is that really right?¡± Josh asked. ¡°Did everyone really vote for her?¡± Everyone kind of looked at each other, no one wanting to admit that they had in fact voted for Lucile. ¡°It¡­ seems plausible that that occurred,¡± Thomas said eventually. ¡°Well something is definitely wrong,¡± Peter said, ¡°Because she, Trinity, that is, said she would trade votes with me, and yet I have zero votes. ¡± ¡°She said the same for me! And I only have three votes, when I should have at least four.¡± ¡°Same with me!¡± Thomas said. ¡°I thought we had a deal!¡± Trinity shrugged. ¡°Votes are counted, aren¡¯t they? It¡¯s dawn soon, so the four of us should go to the Breakroom.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t allow this,¡± Anita said. She looked to Wendy. ¡°We can¡¯t allow this, right?¡± Wendy shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s up to me. You all wanted democracy, and this is what we got. As far as I can tell, the voting was fair, even if some people didn¡¯t get the votes they wanted. So unless we decide democratically to do something else, I¡¯m not sure what we can do.¡± ¡°Forget democracy,¡± Josh responded. ¡°If anyone steps over that line, I will shoot them myself. Our original, democratically decided method was the random ballots ¨C¡± ¡°Shut up about your random ballots. No one else cares anymore.¡± ¡°This method is even worse! Think about the kinds of people who won the voting! Lucile, who tried to steal a spot in Heaven. Trinity, who did much of the same, just by lying to people and tricking them into voting for her. Avery maybe deserves it, but even then, it¡¯s suspicious that the two largest, strongest guys were also voted for. Makes this seem like a popularity contest more than anything.¡± ¡°Voting is a popularity contest!¡± Trinity shouted. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what democracy is!¡± ¡°No,¡± Mark said. ¡°This is not democracy.¡± ¡°Why, cause you only got two votes? They call it tyranny of the majority for a reason. Just because you don¡¯t like the results doesn¡¯t mean there is something wrong with the system.¡± At this point several voices rose, overlapping each other and shouting about how unfair everything was. But a hush fell as everyone noticed what was happening: Avery was stepping forward, across the line. ~ Avery knew that people often thought he was stupid, just because he didn¡¯t talk much. When he was young, he had thought they were right. But as he grew older, he realized his thinking and communication were just of a different sort than that of most people. This was neither a good nor a bad thing. Sometimes it was a disadvantage, when he needed to communicate something specific and words were the only way. But other times his way of thinking was an advantage, and let him see things more clearly. Now, he was seeing things clearly. He would get everyone¡¯s attention, stand in front of them for as long as it took him to find the words, no matter how hard it was, no matter what they said. Because there was a simple answer, it just required trust and communication, and none of them would have to ever go to Hell. They could send up to three more people to Heaven, chosen according to whatever method the group determined, and then they could leave the last slot open, and the rest of them could live in indefinite peace and harmony, without need for food or water or even sleep. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Avery wasn¡¯t stupid. He had figured all that out, when everyone else had been arguing about voting. They were missing the big picture. He just had to figure out how to explain it to them without the words getting stuck in his throat, without their meanings getting confused and jumbled and wrong. ~ Thomas still didn¡¯t quite understand what was going on with Avery. During mingling, he had tried to converse with the big man, thinking that since everyone seemed to like him, he would be an extremely valuable ally. But Avery had said nothing at all. In fact, Thomas had never heard Avery speak, except to say his name. He had determined that the big guy was mentally slow, although he clearly at least somewhat understood what was going on, as evidenced by him attempting to break the window and his removal of Lucile from the Breakroom. But now, he was stepping across the line, walking towards the Breakroom to his rightful spot in Heaven. There were a series of bangs. Avery fell to the floor. He made no noise, but blood flowed from his chest and head. Everyone averted their eyes as the maw of Hell appeared and took his body and soul. There were no fewer than four guns that had fired at him. Josh, Claire, and Peter. And Thomas, himself. He hadn¡¯t even realized he had lifted his weapon. Hadn¡¯t consciously thought to pull the trigger. Had his bullet been the fatal one, to hit Avery in the head? To consign him to Hell for all eternity? ¡°Okay everyone, listen up!¡± said Wendy. ¡°No one move! There are too many guns. To avoid a bloodbath, everyone stay right where you are until dawn is over.¡± No one else said anything. The guns were still out, ready to shoot anyone who might cross the line. It was minutes before the hourglass drained completely, flipping over to count down another five hours till the next dawn. ¡°Okay,¡± Wendy said, ¡°Now everyone listen up. I want to propose a new rule, to avoid indiscriminate violence.¡± Wendy herself was one of the few people who had elected not to take any weapon. ¡°This really should go without saying, but we should have a rule that you can¡¯t kill anyone who doesn¡¯t cross the line. And anyone who breaks this rule should themselves be killed. That way, the group can enforce justice and order. Are there any objections?¡± There were no objections. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go back to the conference room, and figure out what the heck we are going to do, since our methods thus far have clearly not been working.¡± They shuffled back to the conference room. Thomas was tired, but it was a weird sort of mental tired. Physically, he was in perfect shape. He didn¡¯t hunger, didn¡¯t need sleep, possibly didn¡¯t even need to breathe, although his lungs pumped out of habit. But he was exhausted and stressed, and craved the mental reset of sleep, sleep that seemed impossible in this place. When they got back to the conference room, there was something written in blocky letters on the whiteboard: NEW METHOD IDEA: WE VOTE OUT ONE PERSON EVERY DAWN. THAT PERSON IS KILLED, GOES TO HELL. THAT WAY THE MAJORITY CAN AGREE. ~ Loris wasn¡¯t sure what to do. It was all very horrible, but he couldn¡¯t talk to anyone about it. The issue wasn¡¯t so much that he was dead. He had made his peace with that. Hell, he had almost made it to ninety, and experienced plenty of what the world had to offer. But now it turned out that the afterlife was real, and as far as he could tell, whether you went to Heaven or Hell seemed to be pretty much arbitrary. Depending on how things went here, he might wind up with an eternity of torment. Which was certainly an issue. But the real issue was, where had Thelma gone? She had died a few years before him, passing peacefully in her sleep. Had she wound up in an office much like this one, still in a frail old body, forced to compete with devious strangers for a limited number of slots? She was a kind soul, Thelma was, and he had been certain that if God did turn out to be real, she was a shoe-in for Heaven. But he couldn¡¯t imagine her stealing spots from strangers, couldn¡¯t imagine her politicking and scheming her way into a coveted Chair of Ascension. Was Thelma in Hell? It was awful to imagine, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself. Was she there being tortured? And if so, should he join her? If Loris¡¯s understanding was correct, there were already billions of people in Hell, and he had no guarantee that even if he went to Hell that he would be allowed to find Thelma, to spend time with her. She wouldn¡¯t even want him to. If she were in Heaven, she would want him to join her, and if she were in Hell, she would want him to go to Heaven anyway. That was just who she was. Still, a part of him wanted to go to Hell just for the chance of being with her. Where was she? Was there some way he could find out where she was? Maybe talk to her? He wished Ciriel was still around, so he could ask the angel. Loris didn¡¯t dare ask any of his compatriots, because he feared that if he confessed his situation, they would immediately consign him to Hell. ¡°Hey,¡± a voice said. ¡°Hello.¡± The young man said, ¡°Remind me of your name again?¡± ¡°Loris.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Peter, nice to meet you.¡± Loris inclined his head. ¡°How is it going?¡± Peter asked. Loris gave a slow shrug and a grimace, indicating the surroundings in a vague way. ¡°Yeah,¡± Peter said, ¡°This is all crazy, isn¡¯t it.¡± ¡°It is indeed.¡± ¡°Anyway, I was wondering if you¡¯d put much thought into who you are going to vote to be eliminated?¡± Loris didn¡¯t answer immediately. Of course he had thought about it, but the concept was so horrible he hadn¡¯t come to any concrete ideas. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± he said. ¡°Well,¡± Peter said, ¡°In that case, I was hoping you¡¯d be down to join your vote with ours. Me and a few others, we are rustling up support to vote for someone, and it would be great if you would join us.¡± In the years since Thelma had passed, Loris had been a victim of elder abuse. It had happened at least twice that he was aware of, and who knew how many more times that he was unaware of? Each time he had spent hours on the phone with the scammer, with his bank, with the post office, struggling to understand and navigate the world. What made it so incredibly frustrating was that he knew how much more competent he had been in his youth. Here in Limbo or wherever this was, his body ¨C his eyes and ears, especially ¨C were in fine condition, and his mind was clearer than he remembered it. But he was still an old man, and he was still wary of the world, having been burned too many times. ¡°Okay,¡± Loris said. It wasn¡¯t quite a commitment, but Peter seemed to take it that way. The younger man gave him a nod, spoke a bit more, then went off to go scheme with others. Hours later, when dawn had nearly arrived, Loris stood gathered with the others, a pen and slip of paper in his hand. He didn¡¯t know what to do. He didn¡¯t want to vote to kill someone ¨C never mind a young woman, although he figured age didn¡¯t mean much when they were all dead already anyway and wherever they went, it would be for all eternity. What was he supposed to do? He missed being a decisive young man. He missed being an older man, when he had Thelma to be decisive for him. It had caused a lot of conflict, when they were young. They were both strongheaded, rash people, and they had often fought, but over the years, Loris had learned that giving way to Thelma almost invariably worked out for the best. Even now, he looked to his side, expecting her to be there, to console him, to tell him what to do in her gentle but firm way. Sixty years of habit did not break easily. In the end, he did wind up voting for Lucile, more out of lack of ideas for alternatives than any other reason. The votes were tallied by the Arbiter, which they had previously voted on. The Arbiter was Wendy, even though she had protested her appointment. The group had come to a number of rules, including that a new Arbiter would be voted on every day, and that the Arbiter would be immune from votes. ¡°Okay,¡± said Wendy, ¡°I¡¯ve tallied all the votes, and afterwards, anyone can feel free to check my tallies to make sure that everything is in order. Now, in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, I¡¯m going to act according to the procedure we determined. First, everyone stand in a semicircle. To ensure fair play, if anyone makes a break for the Breakroom, or attacks anyone without provocation, you are authorized and encouraged to execute them. Second, I will read the names of the three people who received the most votes. If you hear your name, do not freak out or attack anyone, as I will read the names in a random order. If you are named, you will slowly discard any weapon you have, walk to the middle of the semicircle, and lie on the ground. The rest of us will aim our guns at those people. Only then, when everything is secure, will I reveal which of the three people actually received the most votes. At that point that person will be given the dignity of sharing any last words, and then we will eliminate them. The other two people will be free to retrieve their weapons and we will proceed to the next day. Are there any questions?¡± Loris hadn¡¯t entirely followed the logic of it all, but he supposed he had the gist of it. It seemed a horrible brutal thing to do, to vote and kill off their own number one by one, but it was a horrible brutal situation they were in, and it wasn¡¯t like any other methods were working. He had tried, back when they were discussing what to do, to suggest that no one go to the breakroom at all, and that they all just live here in limbo in peace and harmony indefinitely, with no need for food. That idea had been shot down pretty quickly. Apparently everyone distrusted each other, and thought that people would sneak into Heaven until all the slots were taken, and they would all be consigned to Hell. Besides, no one wanted to live forever with this group of random people, without any food, stuck in a gray office building. They wanted to take their chances at the land of eternal bliss, however slim those chances might be. Wendy cleared her throat, and said: ¡°In arbitrary order. First, Lucile.¡± This surprised no one. ¡°Hooray,¡± Lucile said, deadpan. ¡°First you vote me to Heaven, now you vote me to Hell. Guess I¡¯m just really popular.¡± She seemed too exhausted to really plead her case. ¡°Drop your weapons,¡± Wendy reminded her. There was the thud of a knife hitting the floor, and Lucile walked into the center of the semicircle of people and gave a deep mock curtsy to the guns pointed at her. ¡°Next, Kyle.¡± Kyle was a nondescript, middle aged man, and he sniffed, holding back tears, as he dropped his gun and knife and walked into the semicircle. ¡°Finally, Loris.¡± ~ ¡°Please drop your weapons.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have any.¡± Loris stepped into the center of the semicircle. He was shaking, and was oddly relieved to see that the other two high vote recipients were shaking too. His eyes found Peter in the crowd, and the young man looked away. At Wendy¡¯s instructions, Loris, Lucile, and Kyle lowered themselves to the ground, lying with their bellies on the ground. It was horribly undignified. ¡°No one move,¡± Wendy said. ¡°I will now reveal who received the most votes.¡± Loris¡¯s heart was beating at an absurd rate. He wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack in Limbo. Probably, since it was also possible to die. ¡°With thirteen votes, the person who will be eliminated is¡­ Loris.¡± There was the sound of crying, and after a second Loris wondered whether it was coming from himself, but after another second he realized it was Kyle, sobbing in relief as he slowly crawled to the periphery of the semicircle. ¡°Any last words, Loris?¡± Wendy asked from above him, not unkindly. Loris shook his head. The first time he had died, back on Earth, his last words had been about Thelma, but now he couldn¡¯t think of what to say. There was nothing he could say or do that mattered. It was a relief, in a way. The gunshots ripped into him. There was a brief moment of pain ¨C age had dulled his senses, but his sense of pain was still very acute ¨C and then a second of nothingness, of true death, and then he was falling, falling, falling down, leaving the office building and the people there behind, and it was getting mighty hot. There was the roar of fire and screams of anguish, and he moved at an absurd pace, screaming masses slipping past, and then there she was. Thelma. ¡°Loris?¡± she shouted in surprise and awe, her voice just as he remembered. ¡°Thelma!¡± He stepped forward and she stepped forward and their eyes met. ¡°Loris. There¡¯s something wrong, I need help.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t get it out, help!¡± He ran now, running towards her, but with every step he slid backwards, as if in a dream, getting no closer, and she reached for his hand but couldn¡¯t quite grasp it, and then she said, ¡°It hurts, Loris, I need you, it hurts so much!¡± And something was coming up out from under her fingernails, something metallic, and it was forcing her fingers to bend back until they made audible snaps, blood running out of the nails, and the same thing was happening all over her body, the metallic thing inside of her contorting her body into unnatural positions, her face a rictus of anguish. ¡°I¡¯m coming, I¡¯m here!¡± he screamed, even as he slipped further away. Then all he could hear was Thelma¡¯s scream as the metal ruptured her skin at every point in her body, curling and flailing like it was a living thing, and with horror Loris saw that it wasn¡¯t metal at all, but bone, the bones of some creature that was inside of his wife, that pierced out of her and ran into the artificial landscape, spearing her to the ground and holding her in place. And he barely noticed the tubes that now ran out of his own heart, connecting him to the vast machinery of the landscape, didn¡¯t hear the voice behind him saying, ¡°Let¡¯s hit him with intermittent maximum pain, get a standard calibration reading so we can begin optimizing output,¡± all he could see was Thelma and the thing inside of her, causing her to writhe and scream to no avail, and he reached out but his hand but the more he reached the more he burnt, and there was pain, pain like nothing he had ever experienced, and he knew he would never be able to save Thelma, that she would be subjected to torment no matter what he did, and his world was pain, and he didn¡¯t know how he could endure ten seconds of this, much less an eternity, but it wasn¡¯t like he had an alternative. Chapter 5 ¡°Hey,¡± Thomas said. ¡°Hello Thomas,¡± Anita said. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± Thomas asked. Anita gave him a withering stare. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s great. It¡¯s absolutely peachy. Let¡¯s see, I¡¯m dead, and it turns out that there is a good chance I¡¯m going to Hell, and on the way I have to vote for people who I want to die. Exactly how I planned to spend my afternoon, thanks for asking.¡± ¡°Okay, sorry, yeah, stupid question. I was just trying to chat¡­¡± ¡°Skip the small talk, and ask me whatever you came here to ask. Presumably involving my vote.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Thomas looked around the room. There were others, Claire and Peter and Ryan and Lucas, standing in a group nearby. ¡°Could we maybe speak privately in one of the side offices down the hall?¡± ¡°No,¡± Anita said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to a side office. It¡¯s too great a risk. Too easy for one of us to kill the other, claim it was self defense later.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to do anything of the sort. I can put my weapons down as a show of trust, if that helps.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t help. You could always have more weapons. You could have weapons waiting in the side office. You could have a flunky waiting in the side office, poised to eliminate anyone you send in.¡± ¡°Paranoid, much?¡± Thomas said before he could stop himself. Of course, he regretted it immediately. He was supposed to be allies with Anita, not push her away. She glared at him. ¡°Do you honestly think it¡¯s unwarranted paranoia? Think of the situation we¡¯ve found ourselves in. If anything, it¡¯s a miracle things haven¡¯t descended into an armed free-for-all already.¡± ¡°I guess so¡­.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s what we can do,¡± Anita continued. ¡°Let¡¯s walk over there, to the edge of the main room. Everyone will be able to see us, so we can¡¯t go shooting each other without repercussions, but if we talk at a reasonable volume, no one will be able to hear us. Is this acceptable?¡± ¡°Sure, that sounds good. Lead the way.¡± The downside to this arrangement, Thomas figured, was it would be really obvious to everyone that he and Anita were having a private chat. Unavoidable, perhaps, but it seemed the sort of information best concealed if possible. Still, perhaps this was why the Leader had sent Thomas on this mission instead of going herself. ¡°So,¡± Anita said when they had arrived at an empty corner of the main room, far from any prying ears, ¡°What is it you want to say to me? Who do you suggest I vote to consign to eternal torture this time around?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not exactly that,¡± Thomas said. ¡°I represent an organization, a group of us who are committing to pooling our votes each day. The idea is that we can control who is voted for, and always eliminate people outside of the group. We call ourselves the Bloc, and I was wondering if you would be interested in joining?¡± ¡°How many people are in the group?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure, but the goal is to have over fifty percent of the remaining people, so that no matter how everyone else votes, the Bloc can guarantee that someone outside the Bloc receives the most votes.¡± ¡°Are you aware of how many such groups there are already?¡± ¡°No¡­. Are there others?¡± ¡°If there were others I was aware of, I can¡¯t see how it would make much sense for me to tell you.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± said Thomas. ¡°Well, anyway, are you down to join the Bloc? We are a large group, and joining is the best way to guarantee your own safety. There is strength in numbers.¡± ¡°Who is your leader?¡± Anita asked. It took a great deal of effort for Thomas to avoid his eyes straying to the other side of the room, where the Leader stood. ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to share that information,¡± he said, feeling a bit like the secret agent he had always wanted to be. ¡°It¡¯s Wendy, right?¡± Anita said. ¡°I can neither confirm nor deny.¡± How did she know? He had given nothing away. Nothing! ¡°When does she need my answer by?¡± Anita asked. ¡°Um, prior to voting, I suppose,¡± Thomas said. He hadn¡¯t been given specific instructions on this. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll give you my answer now: I¡¯ll join your little Bloc. Of course, that¡¯s what I¡¯d say even if I wasn¡¯t planning on being loyal to your group.¡± ¡°Why would you tell me this?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s obvious, and trust me, I¡¯m really doing my best to avoid insulting your intelligence. Because we¡¯re Blocmates now, and we should be kind to each other.¡± Anita clearly thought she was smarter than him. But there were things that Thomas knew that she didn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t about what you knew, it was about who you knew, and Thomas had allied himself with Wendy early on. That¡¯s why he was in the Bloc Within the Bloc, a secret subgroup that Anita knew nothing about. A group that would activate once everyone other than the Bloc was eliminated, and would then vote to eliminate those not in the inner group. ¡°Okay, welcome to the Bloc, then,¡± Thomas said, betraying nothing. ¡°Instructions will follow about who to vote for after the Leader has made a determination.¡± It was only later, after he had reported the conversation to the Leader, after he had received instructions on who to vote for next, had distributed those instructions throughout the Bloc, that he began to wonder. What would happen once the Bloc eliminated everyone not in the Bloc, and then the Bloc Within the Bloc eliminated the remaining members of the Bloc? There would still be at least seven people, and only four slots. Was there, perhaps, a Bloc within the Bloc within the Bloc that he was not invited to? Were they planning on eliminating him further down the line? And if there was, what could he possibly do about it? ~ Ryan came from a military family, which he had always been secretly resentful of. His parents had rarely been around, and when they had been, they were harsh and expected obedience. And it hadn¡¯t been easy for Ryan to make friends and find community elsewhere, because they were always moving. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. But now, in this cursed place, he was grateful for his military upbringing for a few reasons. Because he had moved schools so much as a kid, Ryan had needed to learn to evaluate social dynamics. And now, this gave him an understanding of the factions that had developed. The largest group was Wendy¡¯s faction, a group that pretended not to associate with each other but obviously did. That faction had controlled the votes so far, eliminating Loris, Milo, and Rhiannon. These had been weak, easy targets, but now things were complicating, because there weren''t many unaffiliated weaklings left, and because Wendy¡¯s group might have fifty percent of the votes. Then there was the group Ryan was a part of. He supposed that Claire was their leader, if there had to be one, but it wasn¡¯t a particularly hierarchical structure. The unifying feature of the group was they were fighters. They all had some experience with weapons, or experience in scraps, or were at least the type of people who you wouldn¡¯t want to fuck with in a schoolyard or jailyard. Himself, Claire, Peter, George, Julie. They called themselves the Unaffiliated, which was kind of a self falsifying name if you thought about it too much. And then there was Lucas. Lucas, who at first glance looked like a strong man, but after you spent an instant of observing him, it became obvious he was stupidly sweet. He cried when people were killed and dragged to Hell, and didn¡¯t even try to hide it. ¡°I¡¯m concerned about that group,¡± Ryan said. He was standing with Claire and Lucas and Peter, gazing across the main room at Wendy and Trinity and Anita and Thomas. ¡°I¡¯m not sure exactly, but they must be close to controlling half the votes. They could vote us off one by one and we¡¯d be powerless to stop it.¡± ¡°They wouldn¡¯t do that, would they?¡± Lucas asked. It was almost cute how naive he was. ¡°Of course they would,¡± Ryan replied. ¡°That¡¯s basically what¡¯s been happening so far. You think the group has killed off Loris, Milo, and Rhiannon because they are seen as less worthy? It¡¯s just because they are easy targets. It¡¯s kill or be killed out here. It¡¯s a zero sum game. There¡¯s only four slots left, and so the game is eliminate anyone you can.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like that,¡± Lucas said. ¡°Yes, well, you are probably the most worthy of any of us, and we¡¯ll do what we can to make sure one of those slots is yours,¡± Ryan said, glancing at Claire and Peter to make sure they were on the same page about this. ¡°But you¡¯re going to have to toughen up, to be willing to advance your own interests at any cost. Sometimes, that¡¯s the only way to survive.¡± ¡°Speaking of survival,¡± Peter said, ¡°How do you propose we deal with them?¡± He indicated Wendy¡¯s group. ¡°Well,¡± Claire said, ¡°And don¡¯t say no immediately, but what if we just, like, shot them all?¡± Lucas looked horrified. The second reason Ryan¡¯s military background was proving useful was that he knew his way around a gun. Who could have known that would come in handy in the afterlife? But knowing his way around his gun meant he also knew his limitations. Hitting distant moving targets with a handgun was challenging even for someone like Peter, who had apparently been a shooting coach back on Earth, and had demonstrated his skills at hitting targets in front of everyone. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t work,¡± Ryan said. ¡°There¡¯s too many of them. Even if the five or so of us are much better shots than them, there¡¯s what, ten of them? We wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.¡± ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± Claire said morosely. The conversation lapsed into silence. Ryan pretended he wasn¡¯t watching Lucas. What did the other man think of him? He wanted Lucas to think of him as a strong protector, a defender of the gentle and kind, but what if Lucas just saw him as a bully? For some reason, it was desperately important to him that the other man liked him. ¡°Hey, whatcha all doing?¡± said a voice. ¡°Lucile. What do you want?¡± Claire responded, not pretending to be cordial. ¡°Just coming by to chat, say what¡¯s up,¡± the younger woman replied. Lucile wasn¡¯t a member of the Unaffiliated, but she acted like she was, treating them as friends and allies. More than anyone else here, she put Ryan on edge. And worse, she made Lucas extremely uncomfortable. It was a miracle no one had killed her yet, although she had been in the top three of voting all three elimination votes so far. ¡°Hello. You¡¯ve said what¡¯s up. You can leave now,¡± Ryan said. Lucile stuck out her tongue at him. ¡°I was just wondering, you know, whether it¡¯s occurred to you yet.¡± ¡°Whether what¡¯s occurred to us?¡± Claire asked. ¡°Oh, just that one of you is going to be killed today.¡± ¡°What makes you say that?¡± ¡°Well, I figure it¡¯s obvious, that that Bloc over there is going to pick us all off one by one.¡± ¡°Screw off,¡± Ryan said, but at the same time Claire said ¡°And who do you think it¡¯s going to be this time?¡± ¡°Probably him,¡± Lucile said, indicating Lucas. ¡°Or possibly me, but given that they haven¡¯t gone for me yet, I assume they are saving me for later. Anyway, I¡¯m sure you will figure out how to save your friend, as it¡¯s pretty obvious. I¡¯ll leave now, as you so clearly desire.¡± She began walking back the way she came, with a nonchalance that had to be fake. ¡°Wait!¡± Ryan said. Lucile turned. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°How can we stop them?¡± Ryan asked. ¡°How can we stop them from voting for Lucas?¡± ¡°I thought you wanted me to leave,¡± Lucile said. ¡°Screw off, I believe you said. I¡¯m getting mixed messages here. I¡¯m not sure if I should share my master strategy, or continue on my merry way.¡± ¡°Ugh,¡± Ryan said, ¡°Just come back and tell us what you are thinking.¡± ¡°It is nice to be needed,¡± Lucile said. ¡°Think of the power I have now. I have something you want, and you are there with no leverage. What are you going to do now, big man?¡± The third reason that Ryan was grateful for his military background was that it had taught him to do whatever was necessary to achieve his goals, no matter the cost. It was an ideology that had been instilled in him from a young age, growing up on military bases surrounded by military families. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ryan said, trying not to clench his teeth. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have treated you like that. Come back, please. If you actually have some good idea, we can make a pact to protect each other.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d trust you,¡± Lucile said, but she turned and walked back to the Unaffiliated. ¡°This better be good,¡± Peter said. ¡°Okay, so here¡¯s the tea,¡± Lucile said, lowering her voice conspiratorially so they all had to lean in to hear her. ¡°I have a pretty good count of the Bloc ¨C that¡¯s what Wendy¡¯s group calls itself. And they are either already at over fifty percent of the votes, or they will be after one more elimination goes their way.¡± ¡°How do you have such an accurate count of their numbers?¡± Claire asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been sniffing around, mostly just antagonizing people and reading their reactions. As far as I can tell, we are just a random collection of people, and most people are not well prepared to play a game of subterfuge.¡± ¡°Okay, let¡¯s assume you¡¯re correct. What then?¡± ¡°Well, if they do indeed control half the votes, there is no way for us to outvote them, even if we all pool our votes on one person. We have no power. Democracy, more like tyranny of the majority, am I right or am I right? No, the only way for us to have any chance is to flip members of the Bloc.¡± ¡°And how are we to do that?¡± Ryan asked. ¡°It seems like a pretty cushy gig, being part of this Bloc. You are protected from elimination, and you get to eliminate someone who isn¡¯t a member every day. And it¡¯s probably too late for us all to join the Bloc.¡± ¡°I know this might be challenging for you, but try thinking further ahead,¡± Lucile said. ¡°Imagine the Bloc eliminates everyone not in the Bloc. What then?¡± ¡°Then we¡¯re dead,¡± Ryan answered. ¡°Like, dead again. In Hell, whatever.¡± ¡°Your theory of mind is lacking. I mean, what happens to the Bloc? Obviously, they must eventually turn against themselves, cannibalizing their own members. Since there are twelve of them, and only four slots. So their alliance has an expiration date.¡± Claire said, ¡°I don¡¯t see how that matters, if we are all dead by then. I still think we should take our chances shooting them.¡± ¡°It matters,¡± Lucile replied, ¡°because their trust in each other must surely already be fraying. And if it isn¡¯t, we can make it fray. All we need to do is make sure they are aware that their allies are destined to turn on them, and they will realize that they will have the advantage if they turn on their own allies first.¡± ¡°This is making my head hurt,¡± Peter said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t they still want to eliminate us all first?¡± ¡°Not necessarily,¡± Ryan said. ¡°They might think it¡¯s a better strategy to eliminate at least some Bloc members first. Maybe. It¡¯s not the worst idea.¡± ¡°Great!¡± Lucile said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you like my idea, and even more glad that you were too dumb to think of it yourselves. So we are allies now, as promised! And in the spirit of our new allyship, it¡¯s up to you to sow the seeds of dissent among our enemies.¡± She pointed to Lucas. ¡°Why him?¡± Ryan asked. ¡°Cause he has a reputation for being honest, and is actually likable. And so people are more likely to believe him.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to do it,¡± Ryan said. ¡°It seems dangerous. I can talk to the Bloc members myself.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s okay, I can do it,¡± Lucas said. He gave a small smile to Ryan. ¡°It¡¯s about time I started contributing to the group anyway.¡± Chapter 6 The Arbiter for this vote was Warren. The man was fairly nondescript, and one of the few people who were not part of the Bloc or the Unaffiliated, at least as far as Wendy was aware. The truly unaffiliated. ¡°I will now read the three names in an arbitrary order,¡± Warren said. ¡°Lucile.¡± ¡°Again!¡± the young woman said, exasperated. ¡°This is getting boring. We should give someone else a turn.¡± Lucile was disliked, but Wendy hadn¡¯t ordered the Bloc to eliminate her yet, thinking that it was best to have her around as a kind of insurance policy. If things went wrong and it seemed like Wendy herself was in danger of being eliminated, it should be relatively easy to turn the ire of the group towards Lucile. ¡°Justin,¡± Warren said. Justin didn¡¯t move for a few seconds. Ryan barked: ¡°Come on, man!¡± and Justin shuffled forwards, head down, not looking at anyone. ¡°And lastly,¡± Warren said. ¡°Um.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Let me triple check the votes,¡± he said, and everyone watched as he shuffled and recounted the slips of paper. ¡°I¡¯ve counted again, and I didn¡¯t mess it up the first time. You all are free to verify the count afterwards, and execute me if there is foul play. I promise I am doing this accurately,¡± he said. ¡°Anyway, the final name is: Wendy.¡± Wendy¡¯s body and various parts of her brain seemed to process this at different speeds. She found herself walking to the middle of the circle, face largely impassive but with some involuntary twitching of her eyelids. She wondered whether she should be panicking more and marvelled at the fact that she wasn¡¯t. Before she knew it she was lying on the ground, and Warren was about to read out the name of the person who would be eliminated. It wouldn¡¯t be Wendy, surely, the Bloc had been directed to vote for someone else, and they finally controlled the majority of the votes, she should be safe, surely she was safe, as long as the Bloc was trustworthy she was safe ¨C But was the Bloc trustworthy? Did they resent her? Had they realized that the Bloc must eventually dissolve, were they all turning against her? ¡°And the person with the most votes, nine votes, who will be eliminated is¡­ Justin.¡± Wendy barked out an involuntary laugh. She forced herself to stop as everyone glared at her. ¡°Any last words, Justin?¡± Warren asked. Justin opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He kept his head down, not facing anyone. ¡°Nothing?¡± Warren asked. ¡°Well then ¨C¡± ¡°Wait!¡± It was a whisper, but everyone heard Justin. The guns remained pointed at him. ¡°In the land of the sky, oh the land of the sky, the place where the dusk and the sun do collide¡­¡± Justin¡¯s voice grew in strength as he continued. It was a song, and he had a beautiful voice. There was no accompaniment, but it would have felt wrong if anything interrupted this melody. ¡°And people, in harmony lie, For there is no dark in the land of the sky.¡± Wendy could barely move, barely breathe. Justin¡¯s voice was beautiful, so beautiful, so full of strength and life and beauty, and they were going to send him to Hell? It wasn¡¯t right. For the first time, the horror of it all hit her, and tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back. ¡°As angels do cry, For there is no dark in ¨C¡± The gunshot rang in the sudden silence. People turned to look at Josh, who said ¡°What? Who knows how long that would have gone on? We all voted for him; no need to be so disapproving!¡± No one replied. Justin¡¯s body sank to the the ground, the fires of Hell swallowing him up. ~ Afterwards, the vote totals were revealed, and it turned out Warren had been completely honest. Wendy had received a total of six votes. Justin had gotten nine. It hadn¡¯t been that close. But still, Wendy¡¯s fears were realized. It wasn¡¯t just that people were voting for her. That alone wasn¡¯t surprising ¨C although she hadn¡¯t heard even a whisper of anyone planning to vote for her, it might very well be the case that they were, and had neglected to inform her. Of course she had a target on her back, by being an outspoken leader, and a covert leader of the Bloc. If a few people outside the Bloc voted for her, well, that was to be expected, and that would be resolved in due time, as those people were eliminated one by one. No, the problem was that although there were twelve people in the Bloc, Justin had only received nine votes. That meant that three people in the Bloc had defected, had voted for someone else. At least three, really! And there was a good chance that of those who had defected, they had voted for Wendy. There were nine loyal members of the Bloc, assuming that the nine votes for Justin were all from loyal Bloc members carrying out Wendy¡¯s orders. But there were still twenty people alive and voting. That meant that the loyal members of the Bloc could be outvoted. That meant that Wendy could be eliminated the very next dawn. ¡°I¡¯d like to volunteer to be the next Arbiter,¡± Wendy said when the time came. ¡°I¡¯d support that,¡± Claire said quickly. Wendy narrowed her eyes at the other woman. As far as Wendy could tell, Claire was the closest thing to an enemy that Wendy had. She led the other main faction, and they had never liked each other. Wendy was sure Claire saw her as a threat and was all too eager to eliminate her. Why then would Claire support Wendy becoming Arbiter, granting her immunity for one round? It must be because they had all agreed, when setting up the elimination by voting system, that no individual could be Arbiter more than twice. This would be Wendy¡¯s second and final time. From Claire¡¯s perspective, Wendy was wasting her final immunity when there were still so many people left, instead of saving it for when there were fewer people and everyone had a higher probability of being chosen for elimination. But it had to be done. Because Wendy couldn¡¯t find herself in the center of the circle, not again. Not without figuring out who the traitors to the Bloc were, and dealing with them. With Claire and Wendy¡¯s agreement, the rest of the group unanimously agreed on Wendy being the next Arbiter. ~ There were three main subgroups in the Bloc. Wendy began by approaching Trinity. ¡°What¡¯s up,¡± Trinity said. ¡°How are you doing? It must have been pretty stressful to be up for elimination like that.¡± Wendy shrugged. ¡°It was¡­ not particularly pleasant,¡± she said. Affect nonchalance. Never admit weakness, except when doing so is itself a sign of strength. ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re Arbiter now, so you are spared for at least one more day. Sorry to be a downer like that. I mean, the plan is still on. But what¡¯s going on with the votes?¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. So Trinity had noticed too. Trinity was the closest thing Wendy had to a second in command. The Bloc Within the Bloc and the Bloc Within the Bloc Within the Bloc had actually been Trinity¡¯s idea, though the Bloc itself had been Wendy¡¯s plan. But Trinity was a member of the core inner group, the group that, if everything went according to plan, would take the four slots in Heaven. Wendy, Trinity, Alexandra, and Tyler. ¡°There are traitors among us,¡± Wendy said. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m taking steps to remedy the situation.¡± ¡°So you know who the traitors are?¡± Trinity asked. ¡°It¡¯s best to keep this information maximally compartmentalized,¡± Wendy said, because she didn¡¯t think a less honest evasion would work. Trinity was shockingly sharp for someone who presented as such a bimbo. ¡°Well, fair enough. I trust you. You know I¡¯m on your side, right? Us two no matter what, to the land of eternal bliss. I have no reason to betray you, and so you have no reason to betray me.¡± ¡°For sure,¡± Wendy said. She did not think Trinity was a traitor ¨C she truly had no incentive to be ¨C but one could never be too sure. ¡°We¡¯re voting for Lucas this time. Tell Tyler and Alexandra.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you want to vote for Claire or Peter or Ryan, while you are immune?¡± Trinity asked. ¡°They are greater threats.¡± ¡°I want to make sure we have the numbers before going for more polarizing figures,¡± Wendy said. ~ With that taken care of, Wendy went to Josh. ¡°Hello,¡± Josh said. ¡°Come to tell me who we are sending to Hell?¡± ¡°I guess so, although I wouldn¡¯t put it like that,¡± Wendy said. ¡°Well, we tried to use better methods to choose who to send to Heaven, and that didn¡¯t work, so why sugarcoat what we are doing now?¡± Josh was still bitter about the random selection thing, but this is what made him a good ally. He still liked Wendy for her perceived integrity in organizing and supporting the random selection at the beginning of this whole debacle. ¡°Fair enough,¡± Wendy said. It was best not to antagonize Josh. He was probably the least liked of the whole Bloc, and he could be erratic. She thought he was loyal, but was he the kind of erratic who would turn on her? She didn¡¯t know. Josh also was not part of the Bloc Within the Bloc, but she didn¡¯t expect him to have enough foresight for this to be an issue for him, as long as no one had spilled the beans about the secret inner group. ¡°So who is it this time?¡± Josh asked. ¡°Claire,¡± Wendy said. ¡°And tell Kyle and Elena and Benjamin, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Josh said. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve got anything better to do.¡± ~ And finally she went to Thomas. ¡°Hello, Leader,¡± Thomas said. Wendy couldn¡¯t tell if the Leader thing was supposed to be ironic or genuine. Thomas seemed to want to think of himself as important, so she thought it was genuine, but if so, it was annoying. Still, best not to let her annoyance show. She could play along. It wasn¡¯t so annoying that she should risk eternal torment. ¡°Hello, Thomas,¡± Wendy said. ¡°Your Leader comes with instructions.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tomas said, ¡°What are the instructions? I saw you in the ring last dawn, of course, and I was very impressed with how you kept your cool. All part of the plan, right?¡± Thomas seemed nervous. Did this mean he was betraying her? Or was it just natural to be nervous in a place like this? She had known lots of people kind of like Thomas, back in her old life. Climbers. It was possible he was just nervous because he saw her as a boss, and wanted to make a good impression. Or maybe he was selling her out to her enemies. Hard to say. ¡°All part of the plan,¡± she echoed. ¡°And as for the next vote, we are voting for Lucile. Please let Nate, Daliah, and Anita know.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Thomas said. ¡°Thanks for letting me know! Will do!¡± Thomas was in the Bloc Within the Bloc, but not the Bloc Within the Bloc Within the Bloc. That should make him loyal, since she had put trust in him, invited him to the secret group. But people didn¡¯t always behave rationally, so she had to make sure. ~ When Wendy tallied the votes, her heart sank. It was the worst possible scenario. She knew who the traitors were, and she knew how things were about to play out. She was screwed. Was there some way she could fudge the votes? Rig things for a better outcome? No, they would find out, and she would be executed. She had designed the system too well, made it too robust, too hard to fake votes without getting executed yourself. She had suggested the system to keep order, to make sure that no one would fake that she had received the most votes, but now the impossibility of fraud was biting her in the ass. ¡°The three people who received the most votes are: Claire. Lucas. And Trinity.¡± Wendy forced herself to watch Trinity¡¯s face as the young woman walked into the semicircle, eyes straight ahead, not acknowledging Wendy at all. Is this what Wendy had looked like, when she had been in the semicircle last dawn? Claire, for her part, nodded to the onlookers, and flashed Wendy a smile, casually dropping to the ground for the crowd to train their guns on her. With a heavy heart, Wendy said: ¡°The person who received the most votes is Trinity. Trinity, any last words?¡± Trinity looked so very young, lying on the ground, her face turned up at Wendy in an expression of shock. The shock quickly turned to fear and then anger. ¡°You¡¯re a traitor!¡± Trinity screamed. ¡°Wendy¡¯s a traitor! She was supposed to be in a secret group with me. The Bloc Within the Bloc Within the Bloc! We were supposed to go to Heaven together!¡± ¡°I¡¯m the Arbiter. I didn¡¯t vote,¡± Wendy said, not really sure who she was trying to convince. ¡°Do not trust Wendy! That¡¯s my last words. She¡¯s a traitor, cares only about herself. I¡¯ll see you in Hell, Wendy!¡± Wendy tried not to look as Trinity was shot and dragged down to Hell. Somehow, the horrible wrongness of Hell felt so much worse when you were sure it was where you were going to wind up. The votes told the story. Wendy had thought she was being clever. She had even thought she was a genius. She had taken the Arbiter position, guaranteeing she couldn¡¯t lose this round, and used the vote as an experiment. She had told three groups within the Bloc three different people to vote for, and by counting the votes, she knew who had obeyed her and who had defected. Trinity and her group, Wendy¡¯s most loyal allies, had voted for Lucas like they were supposed to. Josh and his group had followed instructions, voting for Claire. But Thomas and his group had defected. Worse, they would know that she knew that they had defected, because for the first time ever, Lucile had not received even a single vote. Thomas and his group must have put at least some of their votes towards Trinity, because she had received a shocking nine votes. Wendy was so screwed. Maybe it had always been a dream. Five slots out of thirty people ¨C the ego to think her chances were better than one in six! But now the Bloc was dead. Her best ally, killed. The majority of votes, out of her control. Public opinion, turned against her by Trinity¡¯s last words. For the first time in this place, Wendy was at a loss. She had no more plans. She felt like crying, but she just sat there, numb, as Lucile was somehow chosen as the next Arbiter. ~ Wendy sat alone in an out of the way office. She had only cried for maybe twenty minutes, pulling herself back and controlling herself afterwards. For what, she didn¡¯t know. She had tried to give instructions to the remaining Bloc members, but from their reactions, it was clear they were not going to obey her. She had no power. She had no leverage. She was almost surely going to be voted out this next day, to be consigned to infinite torture. ¡°Hey,¡± a voice said. ¡°What do you want, Lucile?¡± ¡°Just checking on you. How are you doing?¡± ¡°Bad. I¡¯m going to be sent to Hell, if you haven¡¯t noticed.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re just giving up?¡± ¡°I guess so. I don¡¯t think it matters what I do.¡± ¡°Let me offer you some sage advice,¡± said Lucile, who was probably less than half Wendy¡¯s age. ¡°What we do always matters. Even if we lose, even if it seems like everything is over, it¡¯s never over while we¡¯re still breathing.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not breathing,¡± Wendy said. ¡°Have you noticed? Our bodies don¡¯t need to breathe here, just like we don¡¯t need to eat or sleep. Our lungs pump out of habit, but if you hold your breath, you can go indefinitely.¡± ¡°Okay, whatever. Figure of speech. But here¡¯s another thing: remember when I tried to sneak into Heaven, and Avery caught me, and everyone hated me because y¡¯all were jealous that I was smarter than you and thought of it first?¡± ¡°I think everyone hating you may have had more to do with your attitude than your specific actions.¡± ¡°Well, either way. Point is, I didn¡¯t go cry in a random office and give up. I pushed through, and I¡¯m still here, somehow, against all the odds.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive me if I don¡¯t congratulate you,¡± Wendy said. ¡°You are forgiven! Now, it¡¯s cliche advice, but cliches are cliches because they are good advice. It¡¯s not over till it¡¯s over.¡± ¡°Why are you telling me this? If I take you at face value, you are still trying to win this horrible game, and if that¡¯s true, why would you encourage me to be your competition? It makes no sense.¡± ¡°Well, you are on to something,¡± Lucile admitted. ¡°I do in fact have a use for you. You see, I have a message for the people, but it¡¯s a message that has the potential to antagonize, and so I can¡¯t be seen to be the one to say it. But it¡¯s too complicated to just write on the whiteboard like you did with the idea of eliminating one person at a time. That was you, right? It was a smart move.¡± ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡± Wendy asked. ¡°Context clues.¡± ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t me personally, but I deputized someone else to do it, yes.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Lucile said, ¡°I wish to do something similar, but this time, you will be my agent. Can you stand to be the one taking orders?¡± ¡°At this point, I¡¯d take anything,¡± said Wendy. Which was probably a bit too much honesty. She found herself calculating again, minding her words and how she presented herself, figuring out how to gain maximum advantage from every interaction. She didn¡¯t know what Lucile was going to say, but somehow, she had hope again, because why shouldn¡¯t she? There was nothing to be gained by not trying. Chapter 7 They piled into the conference room yet again. Thomas had already resolved to vote for Wendy, had discussed it with most of the others and knew they planned the same. Still, when Wendy called for a meeting in the conference room, and Warren and Lucile and Josh and Alexandra stood up and followed her in without a word, Thomas and all the others had joined them, not wanting to be left behind, or perhaps merely out of habit. And even though everyone knew Wendy was on the outs, even though everyone had turned against her, she somehow still took her customary place as the front of the room, where a teacher would stand, and everyone else sat. ¡°I know I¡¯m not in the best standing in the community right now,¡± Wendy said, ¡°And I will not waste our time or insult your intelligence defending myself. Yes, I made alliances, made plans, and arguably made betrayals, depending on whether you consider my plan to eliminate people from the Bloc once only the Bloc remained to be treachery. I was playing this game to win, just as we all are, and I won¡¯t pretend I wasn¡¯t. And I know I am likely going to be eliminated next vote. That¡¯s where things stand. I¡¯m not going to argue my character or try to form last minute alliances. Instead, I wish to discuss a matter of strategy.¡± Wendy pointed at the whiteboard, where it was written and underlined: The Problem of the Five. ¡°The Problem of the Five,¡± Wendy said. ¡°There are four slots to get into Heaven. What happens when only five of us remain? Everyone wants the slots for themselves, everyone has guns. As such, there is immediately an incentive for everyone to shoot whoever they consider to be the weakest. This is true irrespective of any prior alliances, because once there are four people, no one has any incentive to do anything other than ascend to Heaven together. Because why would you risk shooting someone when they might shoot back? In the situation with five people, you can kill your ally, and there will be no repercussions. The correct play is for the four strongest people to work together to kill whoever is weakest, because that way there is the lowest chance of that person successfully killing anyone else in return. Questions so far?¡± No one had anything to say. ¡°So,¡± Wendy continued, ¡°This means that if there are five people left, and you are the weakest, you are probably screwed. That means that in a scenario with six people, you would want to leave a weaker person than you alive, so that you won¡¯t be the target when there are five. And so on with seven, eight, nine, etcetera. The logic does get a bit more confusing then, I will admit. But if you consider the chance that this whole thing devolves into a free-for-all firefight eventually anyway, you see the point. And the point is, when the guns start shooting, you don¡¯t want to be the only one without good aim. The weakest one. This is the Problem of the Five, and the solution is, while we still have order and voting, we should eliminate those who are too strong. We should eliminate those who could just overpower us with force, once there are not so many of us left. Because you know they will have every incentive to do so.¡± Wendy was gathering steam, her voice stronger and more assured with every sentence. And what she said did make sense, Thomas had to admit. He hadn¡¯t thought it out that far, but surely if there were people who were much stronger when they got down to, say, seven or eight people, those people would just kill the others and secure Heaven for themselves. ¡°I¡¯m not very strong,¡± Wendy said. ¡°I¡¯ve never shot a gun. I¡¯m five foot two, obviously. If it came down to it, I¡¯m sure most of you could beat me up. I¡¯m sure most of you wouldn¡¯t be too stressed if you had to duel me, or something. But not all of us are so weak. Take Peter, for example. He told us that he was a gun owner and a professional shooting coach. He demonstrated his skills. There is no way he can overpower us all, but if it got down to ten people and he and a few others teamed up, they could finish the rest of us off, no trouble. That¡¯s why we¡¯ve got to eliminate people like him before it¡¯s too late. That¡¯s why I¡¯ll be voting for Peter to be eliminated next dawn. It¡¯s nothing personal, it¡¯s just simple logic.¡± ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± Peter said, standing. ¡°Obviously, she¡¯s just trying to save her own skin, when she knows she is about to be eliminated.¡± ¡°Yes, I am trying to save myself,¡± Wendy replied. ¡°Just like we all are. Just like you are, right now. But even so, I believe my logic holds. And I want every one of you to think about it, to talk about it with me or with each other. Are we just going to be screwed over by a few good shooters when we get to nine or ten people? Shouldn¡¯t we eliminate those who are going to be threats? That¡¯s all. See you at dawn for voting.¡± With that, Wendy walked away, leaving Thomas deeply uncertain. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± Peter said. ¡°I wouldn''t just start shooting people. I follow the rules. I¡¯m a good citizen! We are Americans, we follow democracy. I¡¯ll stick to any method the group chooses!¡± ¡°Really?¡± asked Josh, ¡°Cause we had random ballots, and you didn¡¯t like the results, and I distinctly remember you arguing against the legitimate method that the group decided.¡± ¡°Will you shut the fuck up about the random ballots?¡± Peter shouted. ¡°No one cares!¡± Ryan put his hand on Peter¡¯s shoulder to calm him down, and Peter sat. But already, Thomas was looking at Ryan and thinking. Ryan, a big guy who seemed to know his way around a gun. Thomas certainly wouldn¡¯t feel safe if there were single digit people remaining, and Ryan and Peter were still there and could just kill whoever they wanted. Thomas barely knew how to turn the safety off his gun, much less aim it accurately. He knew Wendy was against him ¨C he had betrayed her and been found out ¨C but it was hard to argue with the logic of what she had said. ~ ¡°For the first time, and possibly due to me being Arbiter and ineligible to be voted for, haha,¡± Lucile said, ¡°There are only two people who have received votes this day. Any guesses who? No? Wendy and Peter, please step forward. Hey, that¡¯s a nominative literary coincidence! A match made in Heaven ¨C or, wherever we are.¡± ¡°Trust me, it is a mere coincidence,¡± Wendy said drily, stepping into the semicircle. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°This is bullshit,¡± Peter said, but with over a dozen guns pointed at him, he had no choice but to drop his weapon and enter the semicircle. ¡°And today¡¯s lucky winner is¡­ Peter! Any last words, Peter?¡± ¡°Fuck you all,¡± Peter said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a second gun. But before he could point it at anything, a series of bangs sounded, and a series of holes appeared throughout Peter¡¯s body, and he vanished through the floor into Hell. It didn¡¯t matter how good of a shot you were when it was fifteen against one. ~ The Meek, they called themselves. Thomas was the founder. He had been waiting for someone to form such a group, and no one had, so he had taken it upon himself. It was a big shift in mindset. Before, he had always looked for powerful leaders to attach himself to. Now, he was the leader, creating his own thing. There was some debate over who was allowed to join the Meek. It was easy to tell who was physically imposing, but it was not obvious who was good with a gun, and they realized pretty quickly that it was impossible to tell if someone was good with a gun if they were pretending not to be. They couldn¡¯t just tell everyone to do target practice and rank them by proficiency, since it didn¡¯t take a genius to realize that you should probably pretend to be a worse shot than you are, so as not to become a target yourself. Josh had tried to join the Meek, but had been rebuffed by a majority vote, judged to be too strong for the group. Wendy and Lucile were not allowed in the Meek, but that was more because everyone felt sketchy about them than their strength or weapons proficiency. Lucas might have been able to join if he had wanted to, but he had always been aligned with Ryan and Claire, and didn¡¯t seem inclined to switch sides now. The members of the Meek were Thomas, Anita, Warren, Elena, Lanie, Alexandra, Daliah, and Maya, and together they almost had the majority of the voting power. So far, they had successfully eliminated Peter, Kyle, and Tyler, and George. Thomas was getting a bit worried about how few men were remaining. As far as he knew, no one had yet suggested anything resembling a gender based alliance, but he could easily see the women deciding to eliminate all the men before figuring out the rest among themselves. ~ ¡°I think I¡¯m screwed,¡± Ryan told Lucas. ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡± said Lucas. ¡°There¡¯s still hope. People like you!¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who people like. People liked Peter. People liked Avery. And everyone hates Lucile and Josh, and they are still here.¡± ¡°Well, I mean, it sucks to say this,¡± Lucas said, ¡°But people might vote for Josh. He is a big guy, and a good shot, and people don¡¯t like him. And he isn¡¯t as good looking as you. People will do anything for hot people.¡± ¡°That didn¡¯t seem to help Trinity,¡± Ryan said, but he smiled. He wasn¡¯t sure what was going on between him and Lucas ¨C wasn¡¯t sure it was even possible for anything to happen given the place they were in ¨C but he really liked the other man, and thought the feeling was mutual. Just to make it extra clear, he added, ¡°Not that I really think about women in that kind of way, personally.¡± And somehow, he was cheered up. Lucas had that effect on him. Somehow, even though he was probably about to be consigned to Hell for all eternity, Lucas saying he thought Ryan was hot seemed to matter a great deal. ¡°We¡¯ll figure something out,¡± Lucas said, and he even managed to sound like he believed it. ¡°Worst case scenario, we can just pull the trigger,¡± Ryan said, but then he was cut off by a gunshot. ~ The scene was thus: a body on the floor, bloody, with a gunshot wound in the chest. As it was dragged to Hell, it was clearly identifiable as Warren. Standing beside him, Josh, hastily pocketing a gun. Around, everyone else, in a circle, sticking vaguely to the factions that had developed. Thomas standing in the middle of the Meek, a step forward, as befit a founder. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me,¡± Josh said, not very calmly. ¡°I didn¡¯t shoot him!¡± Everyone looked at him. ¡°He attacked me first,¡± Josh said. ¡°I had to.¡± ¡°Is there any proof of that?¡± Thomas asked. ¡°Look,¡± Josh said, ¡°It¡¯s not like anyone was friends with Warren anyway. Really, I did y¡¯all a favor. It¡¯s one fewer person to contend with, right?¡± ¡°And if someone shot you right now, would that be doing us all a favor too?¡± Lucile asked. She raised an eyebrow at the group, a not-so-subtle suggestion. ¡°We have rules,¡± Wendy said, ¡°and the rules are clear. If someone kills someone else, outside of the voting process, that person should be killed too. I see no reason why we should not follow the rules here, and just shoot him now.¡± For some reason, Wendy started backing away as soon as she finished speaking. ¡°But it was self defence!¡± Josh protested. ¡°If anyone shoots me now, that is an unprovoked killing, and they should be killed too.¡± ¡°How can we know it¡¯s self defence?¡± Thomas asked. ¡°It¡¯s not like Warren is here to testify to his side of the story.¡± He felt powerful with the Meek at his back. ¡°Why would I just shoot him if it wasn¡¯t self defence?¡± Josh said. ¡°When Claire shot that guy, everyone took her side. Is this just because she¡¯s a woman and I¡¯m a man? I¡¯ve been the victim of unfairness ever since we got here and I got screwed out of my lottery win. Where is justice?¡± ¡°Meh,¡± Claire said, ¡°Justice is overrated.¡± Before anyone could react, drew her gun and fired. Josh was dead before his body hit the ground. ¡°You can¡¯t just do that!¡± Maya of the Meek said. ¡°You can¡¯t just shoot someone like that!¡± ¡°Watch me,¡± Claire said, and then shot Maya. ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± she said, and then her whole faction pulled out their guns and started firing. The Meek outnumbered the shooters by more than two to one. If they were coordinated, if they had strong leadership, surely they could have kept order. But they were unprepared, and in an instant everything devolved into chaos. Some of the Meek fired, hitting Julie, and others in the circle pulled out their guns. Everyone who had stood still, too slow to react, had fallen already. Claire exhausted her six shots and dove for a gun on the ground, left when a corpse had been dragged to Hell. And then everyone was shooting their guns and screaming and running and dying. So many were dying, the entire floor was transparent and showed a bigger window into Hell than Thomas had ever wanted to see, but he didn¡¯t stop to look because he was running. Dodging around office chairs, desks, unsure if anyone was pursuing him but not taking the time to look back. He ran with Anita beside him, searching for any cover, any safe harbor. He didn''t have to kill anyone himself, he just had to survive, and he was doing it, he was down the corridor, into one of the out-of-the-way offices ¨C And then Thomas felt a sharp jolt in his chest and he was suddenly on the floor. Anita stood over him. She flashed him a smile. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, ¡°Guess I¡¯m not so Meek after all.¡± She held her gun as if she very much knew what she was doing. Her next shot went through Thomas¡¯s head.