"It sure ain't heating", Asdanel said. "I can't see why. It's connected. Nothing's wrong with it", Asmodeus grumbled, checking the cable nonetheless. He raised his shoulders. The whole story worried him. For some administrative reason, they had been detailed for a week to this isolated and insulated district. Billions of damned were writhing and burning and screaming their souls off, just a couple of miles away, and a lot of good it did them. Asdanel was right. It was ungodly cold down here. It could have been Purgatory (they had never visited Purgatory, but they'd been told that the workers there went on strike once a year for the so-called freeze premiums). After two days of wandering in the half-light, Asmodeus had found a deserted technical building, and had brought back this seemingly operating, guarantee-covered electrical heater. But the bloody thing didn't heat at all. It radiated, it gave them light, sure enough. But no heat. Or maybe it's not a heater, Asmodeus told himself. God only knew what sorts of kinky devices the bosses here could invent. Asmodee himself did extra work as a tester, helping the engineers to design better soulscales, ones that would not send innocent lambs to the Big Barbecue and snickering bastards to play harp in the clouds. Asmodee looked again at the radiator, and started having second