"Bourbon," I said without being asked. "On the rocks."

He poured two; handed one to me. "Tell me about this Gamaliel," he said, settling back behind the glossily lacquered desk. "The name isn't familiar to me."

"He was banished a few hundred years ago. Asked too many questions. He's been masquerading as a university professor. Another angel, now deceased, made contact with him recently." I took a leisurely sip. Then, appraising him carefully, I said the name. "Samangelaf."

Lucifer sat up straight. "As in Sanvi, Sansanvi and ... ?"

"The very same. Which brings us to Lilith."

"It's a long story. You might want to help yourself to another glass while I'm telling it."

---

The condensed version goes something like this:

God created the world — out of chaos (and boy, does it show!). He created Adam in His own image and gave him the run of Eden. Forget about the serpent and tree of knowledge — that's the spin-doctored version. Before Eve was even on the scene, Adam was making whoopee with Lilith, a female demon. Don't ask me how she gained entrance to the Garden — I can only suggest a lapse in security (no CCTV back then). The children took after their mother — by which I mean demonic.

Realizing the nature of the dynasty Adam was on the verge of founding — at best, demigods; at worst, devils — and realizing that they would pose a threat either way, he had them evicted from the Garden. Promising him a mortal woman, Eve, God won Adam over to His way of thinking. Lilith took flight, intent on establishing her own little colony on earth. God dispatched three angels — no prizes for guessing who — to detain her. They failed, but forged a protective amulet — no prizes for guessing who's wearing it now — against her powers.

About this time, a conspiracy of archangels took place. They numbered Uriel, Raphael, Raguel, Michael, Seriel, Gabriel and Jeremial; a not-so-magnificent seven. To them, individually, had been given leadership of the heavenly hosts, guardianship of human spirits, power of avengement (this so potent it was divided between Raguel and Seriel), management of paradise, and guardianship of the souls in sheol. Collectively, they wielded a shitload of power.

Also, they didn't owe their existence to the presence or the love of God, as with the higher orders. Like Man, they had been given the capacity to choose, to act independently, to seal their own fate.

And — crucially — they were pissed off.

They were pissed off at being given all the responsibility but none of the glory-grabbing front-page jobs, like the Ark of the Covenant mission.

They were pissed off at being so low in the hierarchy.

They were pissed off that a mortal could cop off with a piece like Lilith.

They were more than likely pissed off at a whole load of other things, but what it all adds up to is their back-room plan —

— and you're not going to want to hear this —

— to wrest control of Heaven from God. Which they did. They put Him under house arrest and were happy for everyone to believe He was still running the show. With their Will being done — and with the seraphim, cherubim and thrones under the impression it was God's Will, a chain of command was therefore established through the hierarchy — all they needed in order to rule with autocracy and anonymity (the ideal combination, really) was a nice, malleable scapegoat to take the blame for any bad publicity or rumors of the too-close-to-home variety.

Hence the dichotomy of Hell.

There is a Hell, true. But Lucifer doesn't run it.

Jeremial's job description was "guardian of the souls in sheol," and it was he who came up with the idea.

Sheol — which came to be translated as "underworld"— was at that time a metaphorical term applied to those souls who lived in a state of Godlessness. The plan was: create an actual underworld, give it a scary name (viz. Hell) and introduce it into the dogma as a kind of theological prison. Not only a repository for anyone who got in the way; it would also serve as a tool of propaganda: do what we tell you or your soul will be damned to Hell.

Just as God was still required as a figurehead to legitimize (and disguise) their purposes in Heaven, so an opposite number was required for the recently created Hell. Preferably another archangel, someone whose fall would detract from any questions that might be asked about them.

Enter Lucifer.

---

".... They put it about that Lilith and her progeny had been sent to Hell. It was a lie, of course, designed to prevent undue panic. I knew it was a lie because I was mooching around on earth at the time, having an affair with Lilith. She was on the rebound from Adam. I suppose she wanted someone she could use and then be rid of. Get over Adam, regain a little self-respect, then move on.

"Wasn't long before she gave me the elbow. I decided to return to Heaven, give it some serious piety, get over her. I found myself up before a kangaroo court, charged with pride, disobedience, consorting with mortals and flying in restricted airspace. No defense counsel, no jury, no appeal. The consorting charge was bullshit — I've never had it off with a mortal in my life. Michael made a very public thing of casting me out. My name's been mud ever since.

"I've used many aliases during my time here. I've worked mainly in management. Every so often, they track me down. I've always managed to evade them. Always managed to find somewhere else to go. Something else to do. But I've never — never — done any of the bad stuff: crime, politics, running a Hollywood studio. I..."

"What do you mean, they track you down?" I interrupted.

"AIBs," he said.

I must have looked like a cartoon character with a lightbulb pinging on above its head.

"That's right," he said. "Lilith's offspring."

I poured myself another bourbon and sipped it reflectively. I was in so deep with this thing that there seemed only one way forward. "Where is she?" I asked.

"Where's Lilith?"

He yanked a desk drawer open and tossed me the glossy magazine he took from it.

"Try the society pages."