“How do you nobble Smite Solutions?” asked Friday as Miles placed the TV screen, remote control and maps in the trunk of his car.
“Simple,” he said. “With a strategically placed righteous man.”
“A righteous man?”
“Or woman. It doesn’t matter which. Find one of those, place him or her near the sinful, and bingo— the Lord cannot smite the righteous on a matter of principle, so Goliath can kiss our arse and the downtown gets a serious smiting instead.”
He looked at us both in turn. “You don’t know of any, do you? Righteous people, I mean. We’ve a got few penciled in, but it never hurts to have a few more in reserve.”
“I know some self-righteous ones,” I said.
“That’s not really the same thing at all.”
“What about you or Joffy?” I suggested. “I don’t know anyone more selfless than you two.”
“You’re very gracious,” said Miles, “but I killed two people when I was SO-14, and although Joffy is good and just and wise, I think he actually enjoys the possibility of having a round table with God to discuss the Ultimate Question of Existence.”
“The sin of pride?”
“Right. And he’ll hide chocolate in the back of the fridge so only he can find it—something that a truly righteous man would never do. Besides, the righteous man has to be good in all known dimensions, since the Almighty is pandimensional. If our righteous man put a cat in a wheelie-bin in Dimension FX-39, then His Great Omniscience would see it and know. And the problem with Joffy and me is that there are at least seventy-eight dimensions where our relationship is seen in the eyes of some to be a heinous sin almost as bad as murder.”
“You’re kidding? Why?”
“Not a clue. But there are some seriously weird dimensions out there. Did you hear that HenshawF76+ had two heads?”
“Argued with himself, I heard.”
“Me, too.”
“Where do you usually find righteous men?” asked Friday.
“There are a few professionals about, but Smite Solutions is smart—they’ve booked them for other jobs at the same time as the smiting: helping a lady across the road, being with someone in a difficult moment, reminding someone of the path, that sort of thing. Trivial, one might think, and easily canceled for this job. Trouble is, righteous men would never back out on an agreed appearance—and you can’t offer them more money, because they won’t take it.”
“And if they did, they wouldn’t be righteous.”
“Exactly.”
I should have known there would be one or two snags.
“So, as you can see, we should have a few subs in case of mishaps, just in case. But they’re tricky to find, as they don’t draw attention to themselves and would never volunteer themselves as righteous because they would never see themselves as such. Plus, we have the usual problem of being swamped with volunteers, eager to promote themselves as righteous.”
“And all who can be instantly rejected for that very same reason.”
“Right.”
“Luckily for us, we’ve got a seriously righteous man lined up. He’s a real pip—not even a shred of malice, ego or selfishness. Even a whiff of him will be enough to divert the stream of destruction away from the sinful.”
“Don’t let Goliath find out,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile, “we’ve got him in a safe house where he is being looked after by semirighteous people— who are in turn being protected by people who are quite happy to be not righteous at all when it comes to protecting the main guy.”
He climbed into his car, slammed the door and wound down the window.
“Give my love to Landen and Tuesday, won’t you
?” he said. “And although I don’t want to add any pressure, if Tuesday could find the value of Uc before midday on Friday, it would save a whole lot of uncertainty—and we can keep our righteous man in reserve for another time.”
“She’s doing her best,” I said, “but she is only sixteen. Most scientists don’t start achieving this level of success before they are old, gray, cantankerous, forgetful and smelly.”