Page 8 - Ferry Tales

Donnerwetter

regardless of your muddled intentions or your distorted estimation of
its dimensions.”
He was silent, looking for a way to mount an offensive. I kept after
him.
“How about, ‘those who live by the sword, die by the sword’? You
must have heard that one. But it’s missing the last part: ‘…and are
postmortem punished by the sword’.”
“Punished,” says Donnerwetter, finally assembling the entire
situation. “I’m going to be punished in Hell. Well, I am a soldier, not
a ferryman: I can take it. I’m used to hardship.”
Such bravado, Cerberus! And trying to insult me! Heading for a fall
was that one, I’m telling you. I couldn’t help giving him a little push.
“So,” I say, “you are a tough guy who can take it as well as dish it
out, eh? Listen: war may be Hell, but Hell is not war. It is pure
torture. And you have first-hand experience of administering that,
too, eh? Well, I can hazard a guess about which level you are bound
for. What is going to be your reaction to very intense pain?”
“Same as anyone else’s: I’ll pass out, I’ll die or I’ll get used to it.
You hit the limits of tolerance or expand them. Very simple.”
“Perhaps where you came from, Donnerwetter. Your physical
limits are gone now. And so are your time limits. Do you suppose
Lucifer would allow such surcease or habituation? Your punishment,
having been carefully calibrated to your sins, will not lessen in
intensity for you—ever. It will always be as fresh and exquisite as the
first instant the dentist’s drill hits an unanesthetized nerve in a
decaying tooth. And I am talking about unremitting torment: no
confession, recantation or revelation of secrets will make it stop.
Everything about you is completely known. Judgment is complete,
impartial and final.”
Comprehension dawned upon him. “You mean nothing I do will
have any effect on what is done to me?”
“Hell is not the place for interactive relationships,” I tell him.
“That’s over for you. You’re an object, once you pass those gates.
This is your last conversation. I hope you’re enjoying it.”
“Wait a minute, Charon,” he says, as if he’s in command and I’m
going to obey him. “I’ve got to know my enemy. If I wasn’t present
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