Andrew awoke to the irritating sound of a ringing telephone. He ignored the now-familiar feeling of disorientation and opened his eyes enough to locate the offending object. He grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear. As yet incapable of speech, he concentrated his currently limited attention on listening.

"Good morning, it's half past seven," said a female voice.

"Huh?" asked Andrew.

"It's half past seven Sir."

"Um thanks"

"That's okay, bye," said the voice and the phone went dead.

Twenty minutes later, Andrew, still clutching the phone to his ear, was re‑awakened by a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" he said summoning all his energy to raise his voice above a whisper.

"Your paper Sir," said a muffled voice from behind the door.

"Um thanks," said Andrew, repeating his previously successful ploy.

At ten o'clock, Andrew's subconscious gave up trying to solve the outstanding problems of the previous day, on the grounds that it needed more information before it could come to any reasonable conclusion, and allowed Andrew to wake up.

Before he opened his eyes he went through the ritual of remembering who he was, where he was, and why he was where he was. He was Andrew Smith, or at least that's what everyone kept telling him, he was in a hotel in another, or possibly the same, medium-sized city, and he was there because that was where Graham had told him to go. He tried to remember what else Graham had told him. "Go to this hotel," Graham had said, at the island airport, giving him a scrap of paper with an address on it, "you can stay there, free, for only one week - so you must find a job quickly. Look in the local paper, there should be plenty of jobs. Good luck, believe in God, and don't eat the airline food."

The invigorating hot water‑jets of the shower not only removed the feeling that everything was slightly out of focus, but actually cheered him up. He felt optimistic and even looked forward to the challenge of finding a job. Such was the level of his light‑heartedness that he did little more than frown when he discovered he had missed breakfast, and that all he could get in the hotel restaurant was coffee.

He sat down in the restaurant, ordered a coffee and began to read the newspaper which he had found, unaccountably, lying outside the door of his room. Ignoring the news he turned straight to the employment section which was split into three parts; 'Employment for Believers', 'Employment for Atheists', and 'Employment for Satanists'. Since there was nothing at all for agnostics, he decided to look through each section. The first thing which struck him was that the 'Employment for Believers' contained far fewer entries than the other two sections. He decided to ignore the 'Employment for Satanists' since all the work involved sales or advertising. The salaries offered to 'Believers' were considerably lower than the others, so he concentrated on the jobs for Atheists. He found two positions for 'General Clerical Personnel', the pay was relatively poor but it was the only position he felt he could talk his way into without straining his ability to bullshit. He went back to his room and phoned the first of the two.

"Hello, Ironwood Building Contractors," said a girl, her voice gave the impression that she was in the process of squeezing a particularly painful spot on the end of her nose.

"Hello, my name is Andrew Smith, I'm calling about the job."

"Oh really," said the girl sounding inexplicably amused. "It's my job you're applying for."

"Oh I see," said Andrew, embarrassed.

"No don't worry; I've resigned, they're not sacking me, I've got a much better job," she said proudly.

"Oh good, well perhaps you could tell me about the post."

"Well there's a final demand from the gas‑board, something from the ... Oh, I see what you mean," the voice chuckled to itself. "It's all sorts really, you'd have to answer the phone, open the mail, do a bit of typing, make coffee, go to the bank, keep the office clean, go to the post office, go to the snack bar for the boss's lunch, keep the accounts, water the plants-"

"Ah yes I get the general idea," interrupted Andrew.

"Well if you're still interested I'll put you through to the boss - Mr Ironwood."

"Yes, please do."

After a few seconds a gruff impatient male voice came on the line.

"Ironwood."

"Mr Ironwood, my name is Smith, Andrew Smith, I'd like to apply for the job you advertised."

"How big are your tits?" grunted the man.

"What! I mean I beg your pardon," said Andrew remembering manners are always important when applying for a job.

"You heard, have you got big tits?"

"No of course not, I don't understand -"

"Well you aint got the job either."

"No wait," said Andrew sensing that the man was about to hang up. "What does the size of my t- chest have to do with anything?"

"Are you putting me on?" accused the man aggressively.

"No, really, I'm a new immigrant, I really don't understand."

"Immigrant eh," said the man his voice softening a fraction. "The bloody department of equal bloody opportunities says I can't advertise for a girl, now do you get it?"

"Oh, so if I'd been a girl I would have got the job?"

"No, only if you had big tits, big firm ones with -"

"Yeah okay, I get the picture, thanks," said Andrew and hung up. He dialled the number of the second job.

"Thank you for calling Mutual Trust Bank Limited, you can bank on our interest," said a too-friendly, too-bright and too-enthusiastic voice.

"Ah," said Andrew stifling a giggle, "I'd like to apply for a job."

"Yes of course Sir, I'll put you through to the personnel manager. And Sir?"

"Yes?"

"The very best of luck," said the voice, too-sincerely.

"Oh thank you."

A few moments later Andrew heard; "Hello, Janet here, personnel manager."

"Hello, my name is Andrew Smith, I'd like to apply for the job you advertised in today's newspaper."

"Oh good. Well, before we go any further; there is one question I must ask you and you must understand that if we find out that you have lied, you will be subject to instant dismissal."

"Well, it's very long and as thick as your wrist," lied Andrew.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"It was just a joke, forget it."

"Oh okay, the question is: are you an atheist?"

"Um yes."

"Thank God for that, when can you come in for an interview?"

"Any time really, what about this morning?"

"That's fine, shall we say eleven thirty."

"Okay, just one question, I'm a new immigrant, there's still a lot I don't understand, could you explain why you're looking for Atheists rather than Believers?"

"We used to employ Believers, but we found that they were more trouble than they were worth. If God tells them to be more generous, or to help the poor, whose money do you think they use?"

"Ah yes, I see the problem, see you at half past eleven then, goodbye."

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