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nor Zhu Irzh would even be here. Chen had grown used to being the department's embarrassing little secret, but since he had, effectively, saved the world, Sung had reluctantly recognized that some acknowledgement of his services needed to be made.

    And a demented goddess rampaging through the streets in a chariot drawn by fiery-eyed oxen tended to convince even the most hardened atheist of some evidence of the existence of deity.

    Unable to attract Zhu Irzh's attention, Chen glanced at the governor. Ling was a saturnine, depressed-looking man—although, admittedly, he had plenty to be depressed about. Not quite as humorless as Chen had always thought, however, the governor had already made two quite amusing jokes. Chen wondered if they'd been scripted.

    " . . .and our outreach liaison has been immensely successful," Sung was saying. "Isn't that so, Detective Chen?"

    What "outreach liaison"? "Absolutely. A tremendous success." Better agree with him now and sort it out later.

    "Chen's leading the team," Sung said, beaming like a shark. "Of course, the inspiration for it came from your own pioneering ideas in equal opportunity."

    What? Chen smiled politely and willed himself not to shout. What a waste of time this was—excellent food, to be sure, but he really needed to be back at the station. He had a mountain of paperwork, several phone calls to make, and besides all the official cases, several of which were quite urgent, there was this odd matter of the young actress who'd gone missing at Paugeng's party. Chen wanted to discuss this with Zhu Irzh, but the demon had been off on a case of his own these last few days and the opportunity hadn't presented itself. Chen didn't want to phone Zhu Irzh, because what with the demon's relationship with Jhai Tserai, security had suddenly become a bit of an issue. Chen did not put it past Jhai to have Zhu Irzh's phones bugged. And anyhow, if he had to go out to dinner, he'd rather do so with his wife, although options for dining out with a female demon were admittedly a trifle limited.

    Sung and the governor were both beaming at one another in mutual admiration. Chen forced himself to attend to what Sung was saying.

    " . . .leading a small group down to Hell on a fact-finding mission, after a very kind invitation . . .current exchange has gone so well that we're thinking of making it a permanent post."

    That made Zhu Irzh look up from his squid. Chen saw his lips move behind his napkin. Chen? We need to talk.

    Now he tells me.

     

    Back at the station, Chen focused on plowing through that paperwork. As soon as he got rid of one piece, another appeared to take its place: incorrectly filed visa applications for Heaven, a whole slew of Hell-based internet scams. Zhu Irzh had disappeared the moment they'd left the restaurant, called away on some urgent piece of business, apparently. Chen felt frustration mounting and eventually he went down to the locker room and sat in meditation for a few minutes. It helped, but not a lot.

    When he came back up to the office, however, he found Zhu Irzh perched on his desk, waiting for him.

    "Hi," the demon said. "Sorry I had to rush off."

    "Not a problem," Chen said, although it had been. "Sung's evidently got a bee in his bonnet."

    "About this outreach thing," Zhu Irzh remarked. "First I've heard of it."

    "You're not the only one. I looked up a few policy statements when I got back. It's tied in with this equal ops thing. Increased connectivity between the worlds. After that episode with Heaven, the governor apparently started thinking that improving links with Hell might not be a bad idea. There's a Western saying: better the devil you know."

    The demon grimaced. "I thought Governor Ling already had improved connections with Hell. They've been giving him kickbacks for years."

    "No surprises there." Just for once, Chen thought, I'd like to be taken aback by proof of someone's innocence.

    And strangely, proof was not long in