But a Good Cigar is a Smoke

Fred bumped into the Prince of Darkness, minding the counter. He had assumed the form of a chubby man, with a face flushed with red and an aureole of closely cropped gray hair. On his face were a pair of pince- nez glasses. He looked at Fred at a slight downward angle, with his blue eyes staring spookily over the tops of the frames. "May I help you, Lord Fred?"

"Who are you? How do you know my name? Why all the smoke?"

"My names are many. You can just call me the Black Prince. It is an old nickname - I come from a long line of nobility, like yourself. I know everyone here. In my line of work, it is a necessity. The smoke is part of the image. Believe it or not, it draws in customers. Care to sample some of the product?"

Fred could not quite understand what was happening. Why would a noble be selling things? In Allaria, one would lose face doing that. What was he trying to sell?

The Black Prince continued, pulling out a pouch. "Here we have Ryngaerd # 5, superior quality. Just breathe deeply and enjoy the aroma." The Black Prince filled the bowl of a pipe with the tobacco, and lit the pipe with a safety match. He handed the pipe to Fred. "Just inhale a bit. Not too much. Enjoy."

Fred coughed. The smoke irritated his lungs.

"This stuff is going to kill me!"

"Well, yes, if you were not dead already, it probably would. But you are, so enjoy. Were you going to live forever?" The Black Prince chuckled at the absurdity of the last statement.

"Well, no, but I didn't think it would end so soon. I know that nobody can live forever, but ... " Fred mused.

"That could be arranged, of course." The Black Prince's manner was light, but his eyes were fixed on Fred, as if gauging the interest of a customer considering making a big purchase.

Fred chuckled nervously, then responded, without the mirth. "It is impossible, of course. Besides, I made it to heaven."

The Prince's white eyebrows rose. "How do you know?"

"I looked in Saint Peter's book, and, uh ... oh." Fred then remembered that he did not look up his own name.

"You will find out soon enough, my friend. You should be safe, if you didn't happen to die of a sudden death without being shriven. Say, by being crushed by a rock or something tragic like that. Were all of your thoughts and deeds pure between your last confession and before you were dispatched to the Pearly Gates?"

"Well, er, uh ... define pure.

"It is not for me to judge, fortunately. I have enough work to do as it is. But immortality is not completely out of the question. It is actually an item that draws a lot of interest. Not many buy it, because it is a bit high-maintenance. Most beings do not have the self-discipline they need to make it work. It's probably a bit above your means. However, the Calife Masters Extra Smooth Blend, on the other hand..."

"Let's talk about immortality. What are the conditions, and what is the price?"

"I do not know that you could handle it. Like certain cars, if you have to ask, you could not afford it. But, since you have shown an interest, and I did bring it up, I do feel an obligation to satisfy your curiosity."

The Black Prince continued, "A grant of immortality is not a straight buyer-seller transaction. It is more in the nature of a gamble on my part. I have always won, but nothing is guaranteed." The Black Prince withdrew a cigar from the behind the counter, and an ancient lighter. The case was some black crystal impregnated with some steaks of a red metamorphic rock. The Black Prince opened the lid, and Fred felt a stirring of dread and excitement. He felt that the man was genuine, and that the offer of immortality was going to be made. The consequences and benefits of the potential offer staggered him.

The Black Prince lit a cigar, about twice the thickness of Fred's thumb, and as long as Fred's hand. The cigar had an earthy, rich aroma. The Black Prince handed it to Fred.

"What I offer is complete freedom, under one condition. One is free to love, hate, create, or destroy. If the deal is transacted, my client can go to work for the other firm, if he wishes. No hard feelings on my part. I have time. I also structure the deal so that one is not condemned to the frailties of old age. My clients age, of course, but after the age of about fifty the destructive process stops, and the client shows no further signs of aging - his or her memory and body remain the same, and reasonable damage is healed in good time. Of course, if the client is a damned fool, so to speak, then he could injure himself badly, but given time, he will recover."

"What's in it for you?"

"Entertainment. Curiosity. Remember, there is one condition." The Black Prince pointed his index finger at the tip of the cigar. "The catalyst is in the fire, and not the cigar itself. If the fire goes out, or is mixed with other fire, then the second part of the agreement is activated. Your immortality remains, but your free will is gone. You are then my servant. Forever."

Now the deal made sense.

1. The proprietor offers him the deal, and Fred accepts.
2. The proprietor offers him the deal, and Fred declines.
3. The proprietor does not offer him the deal and explains.
4. Astra bursts into the shop.
5. Fred accepts the deal, but it is not what he thinks...

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