across the room. He didn’t look different at all. Approaching him was a group of five robed men. Not my followers, but they’d been part of the crowd around me when I found my shape again in the Vestibule. Rosemary waved to them. They ignored us and pushed past, going up to Minos in a group.
Minos looked me in the eye and grinned. “Why do you not seek my judgment, Rosemary Bennett?”
“Oh, God,” Rosemary said.
Minos turned to the men in front of him. “Speak.”
“I’m Armand Letrois!” He was tall, dark hair silver at the temples, distinguished. Like all of us he was wearing a shapeless robe, but it would have been easy to imagine him in a frock coat and string tie. “From New Orleans! I was a politician, I had connections, I got appointed to the Levee Board. It was my job to oversee inspections of the levees, be sure that the engineers were doing their jobs, that no one was taking bribes to do shoddy work. Without the levees the city would be underwater. Most of it, anyway. Not my house. But most of it.”
“Leroy Thompkins!” the second man shouted. He was a black man. I pictured him in a dark suit and subdued tie. “New Orleans, Levee Board. My house was lower than Armand’s, my house was below sea level. I had good reason to make sure the levees were strong!”
“Ben Reynolds! New Orleans Levee Board!”
“Harry Passions!”
I didn’t catch the fifth man’s name, but he was on the Levee Board, too.
“We never did the inspections,” Armand Letrois shouted. “We’d go out on a motorboat and cruise through Lake Ponchartrain and the Industrial Canal, then go have lunch and talk about the weather. We did that for years. The engineers told us everything was all right! They did!”
“The hurricane was coming,” Leroy Thompkins shouted. “We didn’t know the levees were in danger —”
“But we didn’t know they were safe, either,” the fifth man shouted. “And we got scared. We took our families and ran —”
“All but me,” Ben Reynolds said. “I was still trying to shore up my house, and I drowned.”
“And the rest of us died in our time, and woke up in the Vestibule,” Armand Letrois said. “Found each other. Chased the banners. Then that man” — he turned to point at me — “said we could get out of Hell. We ran with him for a while, but he was turning circles. We’ve all done that. We never made any commitments in our lives, but we were committed now, we wanted out of Hell!”
“So we’re here,” Harry Passions said.
“The levees were in your care, but you did nothing. You lawyers have a phrase for it,” Minos said. “Depraved indifference. Was it not enough that you were spared punishment?”
“We were — we were unhappy in the Vestibule,” Armand Letrois said.
Minos chuckled. It was a horrible sound. “Many are. You have asked for judgment, and judgment you shall have.” His tail whipped out to wrap around all five of them.
“Eight coils,” I said.
“What does that mean?” Rosemary demanded.
“Eighth Circle. Fraud. Into the pitch?” I didn’t want to watch this, and I pulled Rosemary away into another room.
This room was smaller than the other two we’d been in. It had more rose color in the wall decorations. Minos was questioning a large dark woman in a wildly colored robe.
“Into the pitch,” Minos said as we came in. “Astute of you, Carpenter. Frauds, grafters, every one of them. Where else should they go?”
“Easy for you to say. I have to try to get them out!” I shouted.
Again the horrid sound, half human laugh, half bellow. “I cannot prevent you from trying,” Minos said. “Good luck. Not you, Eloise, you’re for the Fourth Bolgia. I bet you saw that coming.” The large woman wailed.
“Allen, I’m scared,” Rosemary said. “I — they were friends. As much friends as anyone could have here.”
“You knew them in New Orleans? You don’t sound like you come from there.”
“No, I came from Texas,” she
Minos looked me in the eye and grinned. “Why do you not seek my judgment, Rosemary Bennett?”
“Oh, God,” Rosemary said.
Minos turned to the men in front of him. “Speak.”
“I’m Armand Letrois!” He was tall, dark hair silver at the temples, distinguished. Like all of us he was wearing a shapeless robe, but it would have been easy to imagine him in a frock coat and string tie. “From New Orleans! I was a politician, I had connections, I got appointed to the Levee Board. It was my job to oversee inspections of the levees, be sure that the engineers were doing their jobs, that no one was taking bribes to do shoddy work. Without the levees the city would be underwater. Most of it, anyway. Not my house. But most of it.”
“Leroy Thompkins!” the second man shouted. He was a black man. I pictured him in a dark suit and subdued tie. “New Orleans, Levee Board. My house was lower than Armand’s, my house was below sea level. I had good reason to make sure the levees were strong!”
“Ben Reynolds! New Orleans Levee Board!”
“Harry Passions!”
I didn’t catch the fifth man’s name, but he was on the Levee Board, too.
“We never did the inspections,” Armand Letrois shouted. “We’d go out on a motorboat and cruise through Lake Ponchartrain and the Industrial Canal, then go have lunch and talk about the weather. We did that for years. The engineers told us everything was all right! They did!”
“The hurricane was coming,” Leroy Thompkins shouted. “We didn’t know the levees were in danger —”
“But we didn’t know they were safe, either,” the fifth man shouted. “And we got scared. We took our families and ran —”
“All but me,” Ben Reynolds said. “I was still trying to shore up my house, and I drowned.”
“And the rest of us died in our time, and woke up in the Vestibule,” Armand Letrois said. “Found each other. Chased the banners. Then that man” — he turned to point at me — “said we could get out of Hell. We ran with him for a while, but he was turning circles. We’ve all done that. We never made any commitments in our lives, but we were committed now, we wanted out of Hell!”
“So we’re here,” Harry Passions said.
“The levees were in your care, but you did nothing. You lawyers have a phrase for it,” Minos said. “Depraved indifference. Was it not enough that you were spared punishment?”
“We were — we were unhappy in the Vestibule,” Armand Letrois said.
Minos chuckled. It was a horrible sound. “Many are. You have asked for judgment, and judgment you shall have.” His tail whipped out to wrap around all five of them.
“Eight coils,” I said.
“What does that mean?” Rosemary demanded.
“Eighth Circle. Fraud. Into the pitch?” I didn’t want to watch this, and I pulled Rosemary away into another room.
This room was smaller than the other two we’d been in. It had more rose color in the wall decorations. Minos was questioning a large dark woman in a wildly colored robe.
“Into the pitch,” Minos said as we came in. “Astute of you, Carpenter. Frauds, grafters, every one of them. Where else should they go?”
“Easy for you to say. I have to try to get them out!” I shouted.
Again the horrid sound, half human laugh, half bellow. “I cannot prevent you from trying,” Minos said. “Good luck. Not you, Eloise, you’re for the Fourth Bolgia. I bet you saw that coming.” The large woman wailed.
“Allen, I’m scared,” Rosemary said. “I — they were friends. As much friends as anyone could have here.”
“You knew them in New Orleans? You don’t sound like you come from there.”
“No, I came from Texas,” she
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