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"
Hey
,
Sam
,
come
this
way
-
"
"
Ja
get
a
mouthpiece
?
Beelzebub
says
-
"
"
-
Going
on
,
my
good
imp
?
My
appointment
is
with
Sa
-
"
And
above
it
all
the
original
stentorian
roar
,
that
plunged
across
all
:
"
HURRY
!
HURRY
!
HURRY
!!!
Stir
your
bones
,
and
do
n't
keep
us
waiting
--
there
are
many
more
in
line
.
Have
your
certificates
ready
,
and
make
sure
Peter
's
release
is
stamped
across
it
.
See
if
you
are
at
the
proper
entrance
gate
.
There
will
be
plenty
of
fire
for
all
.
Hey
,
you
--
YOU
DOWN
THERE
.
TAKE
YOUR
PLACE
IN
LINE
OR
-
"
The
white
thread
that
was
Powell
groveled
backward
before
the
advancing
shout
,
and
felt
the
sharp
stab
of
the
pointing
finger
.
It
all
exploded
into
a
rainbow
of
sound
that
dripped
its
fragments
onto
an
aching
brain
.
Powell
was
in
the
chair
,
again
.
He
felt
himself
shaking
.
Donovan
's
eyes
were
opening
into
two
large
popping
bowls
of
glazed
blue
.
"
Greg
,
"
he
whispered
in
what
was
almost
a
sob
.
"
Were
you
dead
?
"
