Barnaby got up very early the next morning. After he awoke, he got dressed in his uniform, tucked his bed and flipped a coin on it (an old trick he practiced at his platoon that became a habit). He then decided to give fifty pushups to stay fit. He then heard Charlie's voice calling to him. He stood up and opened the door. "Good morning, ma'am." Barnaby said. "I know it is 5 A.M. but in my squad it is important that I keep up routines so I stay fit."
"5 A.M.? Wow. I thought my 'Rise and Shine' spreadsheets were early! Is that a human thing, or just a 'you' thing? Either way, I love the coin trick—it’s so shiny! Just make sure you don't overwork yourself. We have a very big day of 'Trust-Building Charades' ahead, and I need you at one-hundred percent!" Charlie replied.
Next they heard a voice coming down the hall shouting, "It’s five in the morning! Who’s dyin'?! Someone better be dyin' or I’m gonna start killin'!" The door across the hall swings open with a bang. A fuzzy pink spider demon stands there in messy silk pajamas, four arms crossed, fluff completely disheveled, and dark circles under his eyes. He blinks at the sight of a human in a crisp uniform. "What the—? Charlie, why is there a G.I. Joe in the hallway? And why is he leakin' sweat on the carpet this early? Some of us have 'professional' reputations to sleep off, ya know!" Charlie laughed nervously, "Angel! Meet Barnaby! He’s our new guest. He was just showing me his... uh... tactical morning wellness strategy!"
Staring Barnaby up and down) "Wellness? Toots, it’s a hallway, not a boot camp. Hey, Soldier Boy—if you’re gonna be doin' 'routines' while the rest of us are dreamin', do 'em quietly, or I’m usin' your helmet as an ashtray. Capiche?"
Barnaby blinked at the rude remark. He turned to Charlie, "Pardon for the noise ma'am."
Charlie waved her hands dismissively. "Oh, don’t apologize, Barnaby! You’re fine! Angel is just... not a 'morning person.' Or an 'afternoon person.' He’s more of a... '3 A.M. and three martinis' person!"
Angel Dust snorted and leaned against the doorframe, "Yeah, yeah. Listen, 'Pardon,' if you're gonna stay here, you gotta learn the rules. Rule number one: the pink one sleeps until he feels like lookin' pretty. You keep bangin' around like a drum corps, and we’re gonna have a problem."
Charlie turned back to Barnaby with stars in her eyes, "Actually, Barnaby, I was wondering... that coin trick you did on the bed? Could you show me how to do that? If we can get everyone’s beds looking that sharp, imagine how much more redeemable the rooms will look!"
Angel Dust said uder his breath, "Oh, kill me now. I’m livin' in a barracks with a princess and a Boy Scout."
Barnaby, maintaining his posture, said in a neutral voice "It’s a simple matter of tension and discipline, ma'am. I’d be happy to demonstrate the next time I make the bed."
Charlie clapped her hands together, "The next time? Why wait for next time? This is exactly the kind of 'inner order' I’ve been talking about in my Redemption Seminars! If we can master the bed, we can master the soul!"
Angel Dust rolled all six of his eyes) "Master the soul? It’s a blanket, Charlie, not a baptism. And hey, Soldier Boy—don't think you're touchin' my bed. I got 'things' hidden under the mattress that would make your buzzcut turn white."
Barnabyvlooked directly at Angel, voice still perfectly flat "I’ve cleared out insurgent nests and IEDs. I’m fairly certain I can handle a messy mattress, sir."
Angel Dust was taken aback. "...'Sir'? Hah! I like this one. He's got jokes. Dry as a bone, but jokes."
Charlie: (Grabbing Barnaby’s arm excitedly) "See! Common ground! Now, Barnaby, after you finish your—what did you call them? Fifty pushups?—meet me in the lobby. I want to see if we can apply your 'tension and discipline' to the communal kitchen. Alastor left a... well, a 'swamp' in the fridge, and it needs a tactical strike!"
Barnaby asked, "Who's Alastor, a guest here?"
Her expression shifts into a mix of pride and "please-don't-be-scared". "Oh! Alastor? He’s... well, he’s my Business Partner! He’s the Radio Demon! He’s helping me manage the hotel with his... unique brand of 'enthusiasm.'"
Angel Dust snickered, leaning closer to Barnaby, "He ain't a guest, Soldier Boy. He’s the guy who turns people into broadcast signals for fun. Think of him like a General—only instead of medals, he wears the screams of his enemies. And he’s got a smile that’ll make your 'tension and discipline' snap like a dry twig."
Barnaby absorbed the information, unblinking) "A Radio Demon. Noted. Is he a hostile, ma'am?"
Charlie waved her hands frantically. "No! No, no, no! Not hostile! Just... eccentric? He likes to keep things 'entertaining.' He actually helps out around here! Mostly with the cooking and the... uh... reality-warping."
Angel Dust added, "Yeah, until he gets bored. Then you're the one on the menu. Just a heads up, 'Sir'—if you see a shadow movin' without a body, or if you hear canned laughter comin' from the walls? Don't reach for your sidearm. Just keep doin' your pushups and hope he likes the show."
Barnaby adjusted his uniform, trying to look unfazed. "Understood. I've dealt with eccentric officers before. I'll maintain professional distance unless engaged."
Charlie said excitedly "That’s the spirit! Now, finish your workout. I’m going to go find Alastor and let him know about you."
Barnaby came downstairs later with the files. He spotted Vaggie. "Excuse me, ma'am, do you understand coordinates on maps?"
Vaggie, looking up from a stack of hotel ledgers with her eye sharpening asked "Coordinates? Barnaby, right? Charlie said you were 'operationally focused.' Let me see those." She takes the files, her eyes scanning the maps with an expert flick. She said, "Grid references, topographical markers... yeah, I understand them. In my 'previous life,' knowing exactly where your target was meant the difference between a clean sweep and a mess."
"Great, this one is from Earth. The coordinates lead right to the middle of the Pacific Ocean of some kind of base. Sally Salty, Earth's single leader, is revealed to have a base here, one that I was never told about. There is even a code on this paper. It must be a password. Unfortunately, I won't be able to use it until I can get to the base." He flipped the next page. "This one looks like an inverted start. Is this THIS city, Pentagram City?" Barnaby read the paper.
Vaggie leaned in closer, her voice dropping an octave) "An inverted star? Let me see...", she traced the lines on the paper with a gloved finger, her expression darkening.)
Vaggie responded, "Yeah. That’s Pentagram City. Those points on the star aren't just landmarks, Barnaby—they’re the seats of power for the Overlords. If your 'Sally Salty' has a map of this place with Earth-side coordinates attached to it..."
Barnaby tightened his jaw "Then there’s a connection. A bridge, or a communication line. If this base in the Pacific has a digital mirror here in Hell... I was never briefed on 'Inter-dimensional Diplomacy,' ma'am."
Angel Dust saw the two talking, leaned over Barnaby's shoulder, squinted at the password and said in a sassy way. "Is that the code? 'S-U-G-A-R-R-U-S-H-9-9'? Real creative. Your 'Single Leader' sounds like she’s got the password security of a teenage girl."
Vaggie gave Angel an annoyed look and pushed his face away. "Shut up, Angel. Barnaby, if this code is what I think it is, it’s not just a password. It might be a frequency. This city is built on Static and Soul-signals."
Barnaby said, "That isn't all, there is a third paper but something that looks like a harbor with no other land mass." He paused for a second, triple reading the words, "Happy Harbor. Never heard of any place like that. Earth is in so much trouble from the barnacle infection I doubt that there would even be a place like that unless it were a graveyard for those who died in peace. I need to get out of Hell and return to Earth as soon as I can find someone to take me back to Earth.
Vaggie softened her voice, sensing the weight on him, "Happy Harbor... names like that in Hell are usually a joke, or a trap. But if you’re saying it’s not on your maps of Earth..."
Barnaby noticed a number on the map, "1985, portal to Happy Harbor." Barnaby said, "This IS Earth from another time. Do you supposed she discovered time travel?"
Vaggie's eyes widening as she leans over the paper. "1985? That’s nearly eighty years before the current timeline. If that’s a date for a portal..."
Angel Dust whistled low, "Time travel? Damn. And here I thought the most high-tech thing in this basement was the vending machine that actually gives you the chips you paid for. If she’s got a door to the eighties, she’s sittin' on a gold mine of hairspray and bad music."
Barnaby ignored Angel, his mind racing. "In 1985, the infection didn't exist. The air was clear. The oceans were blue. If Sally Salty discovered a way to Happy Harbor in the past, she isn't fighting the war on Earth... she’s evacuated to a timeline that hasn't been destroyed yet."
Barnaby disagreed, "She would have already evacuated by now. She is currently in her tower watching over the world, sending the Briny Bunch on missions saving those not infected. If she fled everyone would have noticed and there goes my needing to stay in my platoon." He looked further into the paper. "Defenders of the Pacific--termination order." Then he read some names, "Shamu, Dolly, O.P. Otter, Pete, Penny, Sir Winston, Captain Kid, Virgil--hmm." Barnaby said. "That doesn't sound like Sally. A long time ago there was a park called Sea World that shut down after the apocalypse happened. All these are mascots of the park. Barnaby then realized, "They were building the portal to another reality besides this one. I mean, before I was pushed through the portal to here, a marine biologist told me to find the Defenders of the Pacific before Vincent Henry the secretary shot her. I think these SeaWorld characters may have been real in another reality."
Vaggie narrowed her eyes, arms crossed, "A treasurer shooting a scientist to stop a message? That’s not a 'government' move, Barnaby. That’s a cover-up. If these 'Defenders' were real enough to be targeted for termination, then they aren't just costumed characters. They’re assets."
Angel Dust snickered, though he looked a little spooked, "Wait, back up. So you’re tellin' me the big whale and the otter are like... inter-dimensional fugitives? This is gettin' weirder than Alastor’s radio plays. You sure that marine biologist wasn't just hallucinating from the 'barnacle breath'?"
Barnaby said cold and steady, "She was dead serious. She didn't say 'find the costumed mascots.' She said 'find the Defenders.' If Sally Salty is the one holding the leash on Earth, and her secret soldiers were building a door to another reality, then they are the only ones who can override her control. They are the 'glitch' in her system. They must be alive somewhere there if I were told to go find them. I need to find a way to get out of Hell. Can you or anyone here find a way to build a portal back to Earth?"
Charlie's expression softened into a look of deep, painful sympathy. "Barnaby... building a portal isn't like building a bridge. It’s... it’s tearing a hole in the fabric of the universe. Usually, only High-Ranking Angels or the Seven Sins have the power to cross over legally."
Barnaby said, "At this point, I need to try anything to get out. Is there a deadly sin that might be decent enough to get a portal open with no grudge?"
Vaggie: (Sighing, rubbing her temples) "‘Decent’ isn’t exactly a word we use for the Seven Sins, Barnaby. They’re literal embodiments of vice. But... if you’re looking for someone who isn't a complete psychopath and actually keeps their word?"
Angel Dust snorted "You’re lookin’ for a unicorn, Soldier Boy. But if I had to pick the one least likely to eat your face for fun? Maybe Bee-lzebub. She’s the Sin of Gluttony, but she’s mostly just about parties and 'good vibes.' If you can survive a hangover that lasts a century, she might listen."
Charlie had a lightbulb turn on in her head. "Oh! What about Ozzie? Asmodeus, the Sin of Lust! I know what you’re thinking, but he’s actually... well, he’s surprisingly big on consent and respect! And he has access to Asmodean Crystals—they’re magical tools that allow people to travel to the mortal realm!"
Barnaby had a look of concern, "Once in school I read that Asmodeus was a three headed demon that was trouble and Beelzebub was a fly demon that had a throne made of larvae. I assume those are old medieval ideas."
Charlie: (Giggling nervously, waving her hands) "Oh, Barnaby! Those old books... they really did us a disservice with the PR! I mean, sure, some of the Sins can look pretty scary when they’re angry, but a throne of larvae? That would be terrible for the upholstery!"
Vaggie deadpanned, "He’s not entirely wrong, Charlie. Beelzebub is a fly... technically a Bee-fox hybrid. She’s more like a giant, glowing party-animal than a lord of decay. And Asmodeus? He’s got the three heads, yeah—one’s a rooster, one's a bull—but he spends more time singing at his nightclub than causing 'old-world trouble.'"
"Alright, then." Barnaby said why don't you give them a call and ask for their request for us to come. While we are waiting, I can see this Alastor guy if he is the hotel host."
Vaggie winced slightly, "Give them a call? Barnaby, you don't just 'call' a Deadly Sin like you're ordering a pizza. But... Charlie is a Princess. She might be able to get a message through to Ozzie’s club or Bee’s next ringer."
Charlie nervously dialed on her phone. "I’m on it! I’ll try to leave a very professional voicemail! 'Hi, it’s Charlie! I have a human soldier and a time-traveling marine mystery, call me back!'"
Barnaby said with worry, "I hope these Ozzie and Queen Bee people have enough empathy to care about what happens on earth." Then he straightened his collar. "Now... take me to this Alastor. If he’s a 'Radio' Demon, I want to know if he’s intercepted any signals from 1985."
Vaggie grabbed Barnaby’s arm before he can reach the kitchen door, her voice a sharp, urgent whisper, "Barnaby, listen to me. Alastor is an Overlord, he was a human from the 1930s who became one of the most powerful demons in the Pride Ring almost overnight. He’s a monster, Barnaby. He makes deals that tear people’s souls apart. If he offers you anything—a shortcut to Earth, a way to find your squad, anything—you say no. You do not shake his hand, you do not sign anything, and for the love of Satan, do not let him see you’re afraid. He feeds on that."
"I'll dot my i's and cross my t's." Barnaby nodded as he left to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Charlie got her first call. Barnaby steps into the kitchen, the smell of Jambalaya and something metallic hanging in the air.
Meanwhile, Charlie’s phone buzzes with a name that makes her heart skip a beat. "Oh my gosh, Vaggie! It’s her! It’s... well, it’s not Mom, but it’s the next best thing! It’s Queen Bee!"

End of Chapter