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you rescue? Do you go for political leaders, scientists, philosophers, artists. who?”
    “Whoever we need,” replied Bedillia. “In the early going we’ve focused on builders, engineers, scientists, and military people, lots of military people. After all, we have a war to fight.”
    “So you have your own army?”
    Bedillia laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call it an army, not just yet…but of the 1,100 souls, about 400 are military types. I’ll tell you, we’ve got some of the best.”
    “Like General George Patton?” asked Tom.
    “No,” replied Bedillia, “he’s not here. He had placed his faith solidly in Jesus Christ throughout his career. He was a bit rough around the edges, but his heart was in the right place.”
    “Well what about Napoleon or Julius Caesar?” asked Tom. “Surely, they would be excellent generals to lead this army of yours.”
    Bedillia shook her head sadly. “It’s not as simple as that. You know how difficult it was for you to adjust after you were released from the altar? Now multiply that by a thousand. That much suffering does terrible things to the human mind and soul…terrible things. Four years ago, we managed to rescue the famous general, Sun Tsu, hoping that he would help us plan our strategy against Satan and his minions.”
    “Who is Sun Tsu?”
    “A very famous Chinese military leader from the sixth century B.C.,” replied Bedillia. “He wrote a book called
The Art of War
. You know, ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer’?”
    “Oh yeah, now I know who you mean. I think it would be interesting to meet that guy.”
    “I’m afraid not,” said Bedillia. “You see, he had been condemned to struggle forever in a horrible pit of what might best be described as boiling blood…in one of the hottest regions on the surface of Hell. There he was for nearly 2,600 years in horrible agony, until Abaddon swept down and rescued him. We had high hopes that after a few weeks of recuperation he might be back on his feet and ready to lead our human armies. But we were wrong. So much time in torment is enough to drive human reason and logic out of any man. What’s left is the basic instincts, mainly the desire to escape pain. He lies in his bed, resting comfortably, yet he is a human vegetable. The great military mind of Sun Tsu is long gone. That is the ultimate fate of all humanity here…to become beings who understand only horror and the need to escape their pain.”
    “Ghastly,” Tom said.
    “There are some who do survive their long ordeal with their minds intact,” replied Bedillia. “There is this Scotsman who lives among us, Kyle McCandish, a wonderful man, really. He burned within a blazing pit of fire, reduced to nothing more than bones, for over 300 years. Despite that awful ordeal, he is one of the pillars of this community, a man of considerable insight. There are a few from still earlier times among us, but the torments of Hell have reduced most of them to little more than shadows of their former selves. They are good citizens for the most part, thankful to be among us, but they are capable of only the most menial of tasks. They need continual guidance. The souls subjected to the torments of Hell for many hundreds of years become bundles of pain with no true consciousness … not like ours, anyway. Maybe it’s better, more merciful for them that way. I can’t imagine being tormented for eternity with my mind intact, can you?”
    There were footsteps behind them, then a voice. “Dr. Carson?” Tom turned to see a thin oriental man in what looked like a brown lab coat, running to catch up with them. At first, he didn’t recognize him.
    “It’s me, Bill Wong,” said the man, extending his hand. “The last time we talked was at the High Energy Physics Conference in Baltimore three years ago, remember?”
    Tom accepted his hand. Of course he remembered him, now. Dr. William Wong was an expert in the area of manipulation of atoms with