The Council of Hell wasn't quite what I'd hoped, but I felt that it was definitely a move in the right direction. I wasn't really a proactive, take-charge kind of guy to begin with, but I was getting there. I'd had some practice being at the helm and I was starting to warm to it.
In the absence of a crisis, I continued trying to take care of the administrative aspects of my domain. Once I returned to my office, I briefed Gus and Sylnie on the departmental reports. I explained that I needed them to go through the entirety and alert me to anything notable or urgent.
"Don't you want to go through these yourself?" Sylnie asked hopefully. "That way you can arm yourself with as much information as possible."
"But I don't want to have too much information," I said. "I can't micromanage something as huge as Hell. But I trust you guys to bring something to my attention if I need to know about or if I need to do something about it."
Gus said, "We'll be your eyes and ears, Boss-Man." Then he amended, "Well…mostly just your eyes. Unless these reports come in audiobook format."
The reports started to arrive soon. Most of them were delivered by courier. Fikhos was the first one finished and he delivered his personally. Jorge sent his with Wyver, who didn't seem as annoyed to see me as I expected. The last to arrive came from one of Diseppia's aides and I was pleased to discover that it was only two hours past the deadline.
Sylnie and Gus busied themselves by dutifully poring over the piles of printed pages. I found myself completely and unexpectedly unoccupied.
"I think I'll pay a visit to Tithenai," I announced. "Maybe I'll see if there's trouble brewing somewhere that I should know about." For the first time I could remember during my stint as the Devil, there wasn't any trouble brewing. It made me uneasy. There was probably something bad going on. Somewhere. This was Hell, after all.
Gus, immersed in an analysis of the gradual deterioration of the cable car system above the Lake of Fire, mumbled something distractedly in response. Sylnie wordlessly turned a page in her article on the supply shortage in the Information Technology Department.
With that lively sendoff, I teleported away.