JUBAL HAD BEEN TRYING to warn Mike all the way to church; of what,Mike was not certain. He had listened, he always listened-but the landscapebelow them tugged for attention, too; he had compromised by storing whatJubal said. .Now look, boy,“ Jubal had admonished, .these Fosterites areafter your money. That’s all right, most everybody is after your money; youjust have to be firm. Your money and the prestige of having the Man fromMars join their church. They’re going to work on you-and you have to be firmabout that, too.“.Beg pardon?“.Damn it, I don’t believe you’ve been listening.“.I am sorry, Jubal.“.Well ... look at it this way. Religion is a solace to many people and it is evenconceivable that some religion, somewhere, really is Ultimate Truth. But inmany cases, being religious is merely a form of conceit. The Bible Belt faithin which I was brought up encouraged me to think that I was better than therest of the world; I was .saved’ and they were .damned’ -we were in a state ofgrace and the rest of the world were .heathens’ and by .heathen’ they meantsuch people as our brother Mahmoud. It meant that an ignorant, stupid loutwho seldom bathed and planted his corn by the phase of the Moon couldclaim to know the final answers of the Universe. That entitled him to lookdown his nose at everybody else. Our hymn book was loaded with sucharrogance-mindless, conceited, self-congratulation on how cozy we were withthe Almighty and what a high opinion he had of us and us alone, and whathell everybody else was going to catch come Judgment Day. We peddled theonly authentic brand of Lydia Pinkham’s-.
.Jubal!“ Jill said sharply. .He doesn’t grok it.“.Uh? Sorry. I got carried away. My folks tried to make a preacher out of meand missed by a narrow margin; I guess it still shows.“.It does.“.Don’t rub it in, girl. I would have made a good one if I hadn’t fallen into thefatal folly of reading anything I could lay hands on. With just a touch more selfconfidence and a liberal helping of ignorance I could have been a famousevangelist. Shucks, this place we’re headed for today would have beenknown as the .Archangel Jubal Tabernacle.’“Jill made a face. .Jubal, please! Not so soon after breakfast.“.I mean it. A confidence man knows that he’s lying; that limits his scope. Buta successful shaman ropes himself first; he believes what he says -and suchbelief is contagious; there is no limit to his scope. But I lacked the necessaryconfidence in my own infallibility; I could never become a prophet . . . just acritic-which is a poor thing at best, a sort of fourthrate prophet suffering fromdelusions of gender.“ Jubal frowned. .That’s what worries me aboutFosterites, Jill. I think that they are utterly sincere and you and I know thatMike is a sucker for sincerity.“.What do you think they’ll try to do to him?“.Convert him, of course. Then get their hands on his fortune.“.I thought you had things fixed so that nobody could do that?“.No, I just fixed it so that nobody could take it away from him against his will.
Ordinarily he couldn’t even give it away without the government stepping in.
But giving it to a church, especially a politically powerful church like theFosterites, is another matter.“.I don’t see why.“Jubal sighed. .My dear, religion is practically a null area under the law. Achurch can do anything any other human organization can do- and has norestrictions. It pays no taxes, need not publish records, is effectively immuneto search, inspection, or control-and a church is anything that calls itself achurch. Attempts have been made to distinguish between .real’ religionsentitled to these immunities and .cults.’ This can’t be done, short ofestablishing a state religion . . . which is a cure worse than the disease. Inany case, we haven’t done it, and both under what’s left of the old UnitedStates Constitution and under the Treaty of Federation, all churches areequal and equally immune-especially if they swing a big bloc of votes. If Mikeis converted to Fosterism . . . and makes a will in favor of his church . . . andthen .goes to heaven’ some sunrise, it will all be, to put it in the correcttautology, .as legal as church on Sunday.’“.Oh, dear! I thought we had him safe at last.“.There is no safety this side of the grave.“.Well ... what are you going to do about it, Jubal?“.Nothing. Just fret, that’s all.“Mike stored their conversation without any effort to grok it. He recognized thesubject as one of utter simplicity in his own language but amazingly slipperyin English. Since his failure to achieve mutual grokking on this subject, evenwith his brother Mahmoud, with his admittedly imperfect translation of the allembracingMartian concept as: .Thou art God,“ be had simply waited untilgrokking was possible. He knew that the waiting would fructify at its time; hisbrother Jill was learning his language and he would be able to explaln it toher. They would grok together.
In the meantime the scenery flowing beneath him was a never-endingdelight, and he was filled with eagerness for experience to come. Heexpected, or hoped, to meet a human Old One.
Senator Tom Boone was waiting to meet them at the landing flat. .Howdy,folks! And may the Good Lord bless you on this beautiful Sabbath. Mr. Smith,I’m happy to see you again. And you, too, Doctor.“ He took his cigar out ofhis mouth and looked at Jill. .And this little lady- didn’t I see you at thePalace?“.Yes, Senator. I’m Gillian Boardman.“.Thought so, m’dear. Are you saved?“.Uh, I guess not, Senator.“.Well, it’s never too late. We’ll be very happy to have you attend the seekers’
service in the Outer Tabernacle-I’ll find a Guardian to guide you. Mr. Smithand the Doc will be going into the Sanctuary, of course.“ The Senator lookedaround.
.Senator-.
.Uh, what, Doc?“.If Miss Boardmnan can’t go into the Sanctuary, I think we had all betterattend the seekers’ service. She’s his nurse and translator.“Boone looked slightly perturbed. .Is he ill? He doesn’t look it. And why doeshe need a translator? He speaks English-I heard him.“Jubal shrugged. .As his physician, I prefer to have a nurse to assist me, ifnecessary. Mr. Smith is not entirely adjusted to the conditions of this planet.
An interpreter may not be necessary. But why don’t you ask hint? Mike, doyou want Jill to come with you?“.Yes, Jubal.“.But- Very well, Mr. Smith.“ Boone again removed his cigar, put two fingersbetween his lips and whistled. .Cherub here!“A youngster in his early teens came dashing up. He was dressed in a shortrobe, tights, and slippers, and had what appeared to be pigeon’s wings(because they were) fastened, spread, on his shoulders. He wasbareheaded, had a crop of tight golden curls, and a sunny smile. Jill thoughtthat he was as cute as a ginger ale ad.
Boone ordered, .Fly up to the Sanctum office and tell the Warden on dutythat I want another pilgrim’s badge sent to the Sanctuary gate right away.
The word is Mars.“.’Mars,’“ the kid repeated, threw Boone a Boy Scout salute, turned and madea mighty sixty-foot leap over the heads of the crowd. Jill realized why theshort robe had looked so bulky; it concealed a personal jump harness.
.Have to be careful of those badges,“ Boone remarked. .You’d be surprisedhow many sinners would like to sneak in and sample a little of God’s Joywithout having their sins washed away first. Now we’ll just mosey along andsight-see a little while we wait for the third badge. I’m glad you folks got hereearly.“They pushed through the crowd and entered the huge building, foundthemselves in a long high hallway. Boone stopped. .I want you to noticesomething. There is economics in everything, even in the Lord’s work. Anytourist coming here, whether he attends seekers’ service or not-and servicesrun twenty-four hours a day-has to come in through here. What does he see?
These happy chances.“ Boone waved at slot machines lining both walls ofthe hall. .The bar and quick lunch is at the far end, he can’t even get a drinkof water without running this gauntlet. And let me tell you, it’s a remarkablesinner who can get that far without shedding his loose change.
.But we don’t take his money and give him nothing. Take a look-. Booneshouldered his way to a machine, tapped the woman playing it on theshoulder; she was wearing around her neck a Fosterite rosary. .Please,Daughter.“She looked up, her annoyance changed to a smile. .Certainly, Bishop.“.Bless you. You’ll note,“ Boone went on, as he fed a quarter into themachine, .that no matter whether it pays off in worldly goods or not, a sinnerplaying this machine is always rewarded with a blessing and an appropriatesouvenir text.“The machine stopped whirring and, lined up in the windows, was: GODWATCHES-YOU.
.That pays three for one,“ Boone said briskly and fished the pay-off out of thereceptacle, .and here’s your souvenir text.“ He tore a paper tab off that hadextruded from a slot, and handed it to Jill. .Keep it, little lady, and ponder it.“Jill sneaked a glance at it before putting it into her purse: .But the Sinner’sbelly is filled with filth- N.R. XXII 17“.You’ll note,“ Boone went on, .that the pay-off is in tokens, not in coin-and thebursar’s cage is clear back past the bar . . . and there is plenty of opportunitythere to make love offerings for charity and other good works. So the sinnerprobably feeds them back in . . . with a blessing each time and another text totake home. The cumulative effect is tremendous, really tremendous! Why,some of our most diligent and pious sheep got their start right here in thisroom.“.I don’t doubt it,“ agreed Jubal.
.Especially if they hit a jackpot. You understand, every combination is acomplete sentence, a blessing. All but the jackpot. That’s the three HolyEyes. I tell you, when they see those eyes all lined up and starin’ at .em andall that manna from Heaven coming down, it really makes .em think.
Sometimes they faint. Here, Mr. Smith-. Boone offered Mike one of the slugsthe machine had just paid. .Give it a whirl.“Mike hesitated. Jubal quickly took the proffered token himself- damn it, hedidn’t want the boy getting hooked by a one-armed bandit! .I’ll try it, Senator.“He fed the machine.
Mike really hadn’t intended to do anything. He had extended his time sense alittle and was gently feeling around inside the machine trying to discover whatit did and why they were stopping to look at it. But he had been too timid toplay it himself.
But when Jubal did so, Mike watched the cylinders spin around, noted thesingle eye pictured on each, and wondered what this .jackpot“ was when allthree were lined up. The word had only three meanings, so far as he knew,and none of them seemed to apply. Without really thinking about it, certainlywithout intending to cause any excitement, he slowed and stopped eachwheel so that the eyes looked out through the window.
A bell tolled, a choir sang hosannas, the machine lighted up and startedspewing slugs into the receptacle and on into a catch basin below it, in aflood. Boone looked delighted. .Well, bless you! Doc, this is your day! Here,I’ll help you-and put one back in to take the jackpot off.“ He did not wait forJubal but picked up one of the flood and fed it back in.
Mike was wondering why all this was happening, so he lined up the threeeyes again. The same events repeated, save that the flood was a meretrickle. Boone stared at the machine. .Well, I’ll be-blessedl It’s not supposedto hit twice in a row. But never mind; it did-and I’ll see that you’re paid onboth of them.“ Quickly he put a slug back in.
Mike still wanted to see why this was a .jackpot.“ The eyes lined up again.
Boone stared at them. Jill suddenly squeezed Mike’s hand and whispered,.Mike ... stop it!“.But, Jill, I was seeing-.
.Don’t talk about it. Just stop. Oh, you just wait till I get you home!“ Boonesaid slowly, .I’d hesitate to call this a miracle. Machine probably needs arepairman.“ He shouted, .Cherub here!“ and added, .We’d better take the lastone off, anyhow,“ and fed in another slug.
Without Mike’s intercession, the wheels slowed down on their own andannounced: .FOSTER-LOVES-YOU,“ and the mechanism tried, but failed, todeliver ten more slugs. A Cherub, older and with sleek black hair, came upand said, .Happy day. You need help?“.Three jackpots,“ Boone told him.
.’Three’?“.Didn’t you hear the music? Are you deef? We’ll be at the bar; fetch themoney there. And have somebody check this machine.“.Yes, Bishop.“They left the Cherub scratching his head while Boone hurried them onthrough the Happiness Room to the bar at the far end. .Got to get you out ofhere,“ Boone said jovially, .before you bankrupt the Church. Doc, are youalways that lucky?“.Always,“ Harshaw said solemnly. He had not looked at Mike and did notintend to-he told himself that he did not know that the boy had anything to dowith it . . . but he wished mightily that this ordeal were over and all of themhome again.
Boone took them to a stretch of the bar counter marked .Reserved“ and said,.This’ll do-or would the little lady like to sit down?“.This is fine.“ (-and if you call me .little lady“ just once more I’ll turn Mikeloose on you!)A bartender hurried up. .Happy day. Your usual, Bishop?“.Double. What’ll it be, Doc? And Mr. Smith? Don’t be bashful; you’re theSupreme Bishop’s guests.“.Brandy, thank you. Water on the side.“.Brandy, thank you,“ Mike repeated ... thought about it, and added, .No waterfor me, please.“ While it was true that the water of life was not the essence inthe water ceremony, nevertheless he did not wish to drink water here.
.That’s the spirits“ Boone said heartily. .That’s the proper spirit with spirits!
No water. Get it? It’s a joke.“ Re dug Jubal in the ribs. .Now what’ll it be forthe little lady? Cola? Milk for your rosy cheeks? Or do you want a real HappyDay drink with the big folks?“.Senator,“ Jill said carefully, .Would your hospitality extend to a martini?“.Would it! Best martinis in the whole world right here-we don’t use anyvermouth at all. We bless .em instead. Double martini for the little lady. Blessyou, son, and make it fast.“ He turned to the others. .We’ve just about tImefor a quick one, then pay our respects to Archangel Foster and on into theSanctuary in time to hear the Supreme Bishop.“The drinks arrived and the jackpots’ payoff. They drank with Boone’sblessing, then he wrangled in a friendly fashion with Jubal over the threehundred dollars just delivered, insisting that all three prizes belonged to Jubaleven though Boone had inserted the slugs on the second and third. Jubalsettled it by scooping up all the money and depositing it in a loveoffering bowlnear them on the bar.
Boone nodded approvingly. .That’s a mark of grace, Doc. We’ll save you yet.
Another round, folks?“Jill hoped that someone would say yes. The gin was watered, she decided,and the flavor was poor; nevertheless it was starting a small flame oftolerance in her middle. But nobody spoke up, so she trailed along as Booneled them away, up a flight of stairs, past a sign reading: POSITIVELY NOSEEKERS NOR SINNERS ALLOWED ON THIS LEVEL-THIS MEANS YOU!
Beyond the sign was a heavy grilled gate. Boone said to it: .Bishop Booneand three pilgrims, guests of the Supreme Bishop.“The gate swung open. He led them around a curved passage and into aroom.
It was a moderately large room, luxuriously appointed in a style thatreminded Jill of undertakers’ parlors, but it was filled with cheerful music. Thebasic theme seemed to be .Jingle Bells“ but a Congo beat had been addedand the arrangement so embroidered that its ancestry was not certain. Jillfound that she liked it and that it made her want to dance.
The far wall of the room was clear glass and appeared to be not even that.
Boone said briskly, .Here we are, folks-in the Presence.“ He knelt quickly,facing the empty wall. .You don’t have to kneel, you’rt pilgrims -but do so if itmakes you feel better. Most pilgrims do. And there he is just as he was whenhe was called up to Heaven.“Boone gestured with his cigar. .Don’t he look natural? Preserved by amiracle, his flesh incorruptible. That’s the very chair he used to sit in when hewrote his Messages . . . and that’s just the pose he was in when he went toHeaven. He never moved and he’s never been moved-we just built theTabernacle right around him . . . removing the old church, naturally, andpreserving its sacred stones.“ Opposite them about twenty feet away, facingthem, seated in a big arm chair remarkably like a throne, was an old man. Relooked as if he were alive - . and he reminded Jill strongly of an old goat thathad been on the farm where she had spent her childhood summers-Yes,even to the out-thrust lower lip, the cut of the whiskers, and the fierce,brooding eyes. Jill felt her skin prickle; the Archangel Foster made heruneasy. Mike said to her in Martian, .My brother, this is an Old One?“.I don’t know, Mike. They say he is.“He answered in Martian, .I do not grok an Old One here.“.I don’t know, I tell you.“.I grok wrongness.“.Mike! Remember!“.Yes, Jill.“Boone said, .What was he saying, little lady? What was your question, Mr.
Smith?“Jill said quickly, .It wasn’t anything. Senator, can I get out of here? I feelfaint.“ She glanced back at the corpse. There were billowing clouds above itand one shaft of light always cut through and sought out the face. The lightchanged enough so that the face seemed to change and the eyes seemedbright and alive.
Boone said soothingly, .It sometimes has that effect, the first time. But youought to look at him from the seekers’ gallery below us-looking up at him andwith entirely different music. Entirely. Heavy music, with subsonics in it, Ibelieve it is-reminds .em of their sins. Now this room is a Happy Thoughtsmeditation chamber for high officials of the Church-I often come here and sitand smoke a cigar for an hour if I’m feeling the least bit low.“.Please, Senator!“.Oh, certainly. You just wait outside, m’dear. Mr. Smith, you stay aslong as you like.“Jubal said, .Senator, hadn’t we best get on into the services?“They all left. Jill was shaking and squeezed Mike’s hand-she had beenscared silly that Mike might do something to that grisly exhibit-and get themall lynched, or worse.
Two guards, dressed in uniforms much like the Cherubim but more ornate,thrust crossed spears in their path when they reached the portal of theSanctuary. Boone said reprovingly, .Come, come! These pilgrims are theSupreme Bishop’s personal guests. Where are their badges?“The confusion was straightened out, the badges produced~ and with themtheir door prize numbers. A respectful usher said, .This way, Bishop,“ and ledthem up wide stairs and to a center box directly facing the stage.
Boone stood back for them to go in. .You first, little lady.“ There followed atussle of wills; Boone wanted to sit next to Mike in order to answer hisquestions. }larshaW won and Mike sat between Jill and Jiib~~l, with Booneon the aisle.
The box was roomy and luxurious, with very comfortable, self-adjustingseats, ash trays for each seat and drop tables for refreshments foldedagainst the rail in front of them. Their balcony position placed them aboutfifteen feet over the heads of the congregation and not more than a hundredfeet from the altar. In front of it a young priest was warming up the crowd,shuffling to the music and shoving his heavily muscled arms back and forth,fists clenched, like pistons. His strong bass voice joined the choir from time totime, then he would lift it in ex.hortatiofl:
.Up off your behinds! What are you waiting for? Gonna let the Devil catchyou napping’?“The aisles were very wide and a snake dance was moving down the rightaisle, across in front of the altar, and weaving back up the center aisle, feetstomping in time with the priest’s piston-like jabs and with the syncopatedchant of the choir. Clumps clump, moan! . . . clump, clump, moan! Jill felt thebeat of it and realized sheepishly that it would be fun to get into that snakedance-as more and more people were doing under the brawny young priest’staunts.
.That boy’s a corner,“ Boone said approvinglY. .I’ve team.pteached with hima few times and I can testify that he turns the crowd over to you alreadysizzlin’. The Reverend .Jug’ Jackerman-used to play left tackle for the Rams.
You’ve seen him play.“.I’m afraid not,“ Jubal admitted. .I don’t follow football.“.Really? You don’t know what you’re missing. Why, during the season mostof the faithful stay after services, eat their lunches in their pews, and watchthe game. The whole back wall behind the altar slides away and you’relooking right into the biggest stereo tank ever built~ Puts the plays right inyour lap. Better reception than you get at home-and it’s more of a thrill towatch with a crowd around you.“ He stopped and whistled. .Hey, Cherub!
Over here!“An usher hurried over. .Yes, Bishop?“.Son, you ran away so fast when you seated us, I didn’t have time toput in my order.“.I’m sorry, Bishop.“.Being sorry won’t get you into Heaven. Get happy, son. Get that old springinto your step and stay on your toes. Same thing all around, folks? Fine!“ Hegave the order and added, .and bring me back a handful of my cigars—justask the chief barkeep.“.Right away, Bishop.“.Bless you, son. Hold it-. The head of the snake dance was just about topass under them; Boone leaned over the rail, made a megaphone of hishands and cut through the high noise level. .Dawn! Hey, Dawn!“ A womanlooked up; he caught her eye, motioned her to come up. She smiled. .Add awhiskey sour to that order. Fly.“The woman showed up quickly, as did the drinks. Boone swung a seat out ofthe box’s back row and put it cornerwise in front of him so that she could visitmore easily. .Folks, meet Miss Dawn Ardent. M’dear, that’s Miss Boardnlan,the little lady down in the corner-and this is the famous Doctor Jubal Harshawhere by me-.
.Really? Doctor, I think your stories are simply divine~“.Thank you.“.Oh, I really do. I put one of your tapes on my player and let it lull me to sleepalmost every night.“.Higher praise a writer cannot expect,“ Jubal said with a straight face.
.That’s enough, Dawn,“ put in Boone. .The young man sitting between themis . . . Mr. Valentine Smith the Man from Mars.“He eyes came open wider as her mouth opened. .Oh, my goodness!“Boone roared. .Bless you, child! I guess I really snuck up on you that time.“She said, .Are you really the Man from Mars?“.Yes, Miss Dawn Ardent.“.Just call me .Dawn.’ Oh, goodness!“Boone patted her hand. .Don’t you know it’s a sin to doubt the word of aBishop? M’dear, how would you like to help lead the Man from Mars ta thelight?“.Oh, I’d love it!“(You certainly would, you sleek bitch! Jill said to herself~ She had beengrowing increasingly angry ever since Miss Ardent had joined them. Thedress the woman was wearing was long sleeved, high necked, and opaqueandcovered nothing. It was a knit fabric almost exactly the shade of hertanned skin and Jill was certain that skin was all there was under it-other thanMiss Ardent, which was really quite a lot, in all departments. The dress wasostentatiously modest compared with the extreme styles worn by many of thefemale half of the congregation, some of whom, in the snake dance, seemedabout to jounce out of their clothes.
Jill thought that, despite being dressed, Miss Ardent looked as if she had justwiggled out of bed and was anxious to crawl back in. With Mike. Quitsquirming your carcass at him, you cheap hussy!
Boone said, .I’ll speak to the Supreme Bishop about it, m’dear. Now you’dbetter get back downstairs and lead that parade. Jug needs your help.“She stood up obediently. .Yes, Bishop. Pleased to meet you, Doctor, andMiss Broad. I hope I’ll see you again, Mr. Smith. I’ll pray for you.“ Sheundulated away.
.A fine girl, that,“ Boone said happily. .Ever catch her act, Doctor?“.I think not. What does she do?“Boone seemed unable to believe his ears. .You don’t know?“.Didn’t you hear her name? That’s Dawn Ardent-she’s simply the highestpaid peeler in all Baja California, that’s who she is. Men have committedsuicide over her-very sad. Works under an irised spotlight and by the timeshe’s down to her shoes, the light is just on her face and you really can’t seeanything else. Very effective. Highly spiritual. Would you believe it, looking atthat sweet face now, that she used to be a most immoral woman?“.I can’t believe it.“.Well, she was. Ask her. She’ll tell you. Better yet, come to a cleansing forseekers-I’ll let you know when she’s going to be on. When she confesses, itgives other women courage to stand up and tell about their sins. She doesn’thold anything back-and, of course, it does her good, too, to know that she’shelping other people. Very dedicated woman now-flies her own car up hereevery Saturday night right after her last show, so as to be here in time toteach Sunday School. She teaches the Young Men’s Happiness Class andattendance has more than tripled since she took over.“.I can believe that,“ Jubal agreed. .How old are these lucky .Young Men’?“Boone looked at him and laughed. .You’re not fooling me, you old devilsomebodytold you the motto of Dawn’s class: .Never too old to be young.’“.No, truly.“.In any case you can’t attend her class until you’ve seen the light and gonethrough cleansing and been accepted. Sorry. This is the One True Church,Pilgrim, nothing at all like those traps of Satan, those foul pits of iniquity thatcall themselves .churches’ in order to lead the unwary into idolatry and otherabominations. You can’t just walk in here because you want to kill a couplehours out of the rain-you gotta be saved first. In fact- Oh, oh, camerawarning.“ Red lights were blinking in each corner of the great hail. .And Jug’sgot .em done to a turn. Now you’ll see some action.“The snake dance picked up more volunteers and the few left seated wereclapping the cadence and bouncing up and down. Pairs of ushers werehurrying to pick up the fallen, some of whom were quiet but others, mostlywomen, were writhing and foaming at the mouth. These were dumped hastilyin front of the altar and left to flop like freshly caught fish. Boone pointed hiscigar at a gaunt redhead, a woman apparently about forty whose dress wasbadly torn by her exertions. .See that woman? It has been at least a yearsince she has gone all through a service without being possessed by theSpirit. Sometimes Archangel Foster uses her mouth to talk to us . . . andwhen that happens it takes four husky acolytes to hold her down. She couldgo to heaven any time, she’s ready. But she’s needed here. Anybody need arefill? Bar service is likely to be a little slow once the cameras are switchedon and things get lively.“Almost absently Mike let his glass be replenished. He shared none of Jill’sdisgust with the scene. He had been deeply troubled when he haddiscovered that the .Old One“ had been no Old One at all but mere spoiledfood, with no Old One anywhere near. But he had tabled that matter and wasdrinking deep of the events around him.
The frenzy going on below him was so Martian in its flavor that he felt bothhomesick and warmly at home. No detail of the scene was Martian, all waswildly different, yet he grokked correctly that this was a growing-closer as realas water ceremony, and in numbers and intensity that he had never metbefore outside his own nest. He wished forlornly that someone would invitehim to join that jumping up and down. His feet tingled with an urge to mergehimself with them.
He spotted Miss Dawn Ardent again in its van and tried to catch her eyeperhapsshe would invite him. He did not have to recognize her-by size andproportions even though he had noted when he had first seen her that shewas exactly as tall as his brother Jill with very nearly the same shapings andmasses throughout. But Miss Dawn Ardent had her own face, with her painsand sorrows and growings graved on it under her warm smile. He wonderedif Miss Dawn Ardent might some day be willing to share water with him andgrow closer. Senator Bishop Boone had made him feel wary and he was gladthat Jubal had not permitted them to sit side by side. But Mike was sonywhen Miss Dawn Ardent had been sent away.
Miss Dawn Ardent did not feel him looking at her. The snake dance carriedher away.
The man on the platform had both his arms raised; the great cave becamequieter. Suddenly he brought them down. .Who’s happy?“.WE’RE HAPPY!“.Why?“.GOD... LOVES US!“.How d’you know?“.FOSTER TOLD US!“He dropped to his knees, raised one clenched fist. .Let’s hear that LionROAR!“The congregation roared and shrieked and screamed while he controlled thedin using his fist as a baton, raising the volume, lowering it, squeezing itdown to a subvocal growl, then suddenly driving it to crescendo that shookthe balcony. Mike felt it beat on him and he wallowed in it, with ecstasy sopainful that he feared that he would be forced to withdraw. But Jill had toldhim that he must not ever do so again, except in the privacy of his own room;he controlled it and let the waves wash over him.
The man stood up. .Our first hymn,“ he said briskly, .is sponsored by MannaBakeries, makers of Angel Bread, the loaf of love with our Supreme Bishop’ssmiling face on every wrapper and containing a valuable premium couponredeemable at your nearest neighborhood Church of the New Revelation,Brothers and Sisters, tomorrow Manna Bakeries with branches throughoutthe land start a giant, price-slashing sale of pre-equinox goodies. Send yourchild to school tomorrow with a bulging box of Archangel Foster cookies,each one blessed and wrapped in an appropriate text-and pray that eachgoodie he gives away may lead a child of sinners nearer to the light.
.And now let’s really live it up with the holy words of that old favorite:
.Forward, Foster’s Children!’ All together-.
.Forward, Foster’s Chil-dren! Smash apart your foesFaith our Shield and Ar-mar! Strike them down by rows-!“.Second verse!“.Make no peace with sin-nen! God is on our side!“Mike was so joyed by it all that he did not stop then to translate and weighand try to grok the words. He grokked that the words were not of essence; itwas a growing-closer. The snake dance started moving again, the marcherschanting the potent sounds along with the choir and those too feeble tomarch.
After the hymn they caught their breaths while there were announcements,Heavenly messages, another commercial, and the awarding of door prizes.
Then a second hymn, .Happy Faces Uplifted,“ was sponsored byDattelbaum’s Department Stores where the Saved Shop in Safety since nomerchandise is offered which competes with a sponsored brand-a children’sHappy Room in each branch supervised by a Saved sister. The young priestmoved out to the very front of the platform and cupped his ear, listening- .We... want . . . .Digby!“.Who?“.We-Want—DIG-BY!“.Louder! Make him hear you!“.WE-WANT-DIG-BY!“ Clap, clap, stomp, stomp.
.WE- WANT-DIG-BY!“ Clap, clap, stomp, stomp- It went on and on, gettinglouder as the building rocked with it. Jubal leaned to Boone and said, .Muchof that and you’ll do what Samson did.“ .Never fear,“ Boone told him, aroundhis cigar. .Reinforced, fireproof, and sustained by faith. Besides, it’s built toshake; it was designed that way. Helps.“The lights went down, curtains behind the altar parted, and a blindingradiance from no visible source picked out the Supreme Bishop, waving hisclasped hands over his head and smiling at them.
They answered with the lion’s roar and he threw them kisses. On his way tothe pulpit he stopped, half raised one of the possessed women still writhingslowly near the altar, kissed her on the forehead, lowered her gently, startedon-stopped again and knelt by the bony redhead. The Supreme Bishopreached behind him and a portable microphone was instantly placed in hishand.
He put his other arm around the woman’s shoulders, placed the pickupnear her lips.
Mike could not understand her words. Whatever they were, he wasreasonably sure that they were not English.
But the Supreme Bishop was translating, interjecting his words quickly ateach pause in the foaming spate. .Archangel Foster is with us today- .He isespecially pleased with you. Kiss the sister on your right- .Archangel Fosterloves you all. Kiss the sister on your left-.He has a special message for one of us here today.“The woman spoke again; Digby seemed to hesitate. .What was that? Louder,I pray you.“ She muttered and screamed at length.
Digby looked up and smiled. .His message is for a pilgrim from anotherplanet-Valentine Michael Smith the Man from Mars! Where are you,Valentine Michael! Stand up, stand up!“Jill tried to stop him but Jubal growled, .Easier to do it than to fight it. Let himstand up, Jill. Wave, Mike. Now you can sit down.“ Mike did so, amazed tofind that they were now chanting: .Man from Mars! Man from Mars!“The sermon that followed seemed to be directed at him, too, but try as hewould, he could not understand it. The words were English, or most of themwere, but they seemed to be put together wrongly and there was so muchnoise, so much clapping, and so many shouts of .Hallelujah!“ and .HappyDay!“ that he grew quite confused. He was glad when it was over.
As soon as the sermon was finished, Digby turned the service back to theyoung priest and left; Boone stood up. .Come on, folks. We pull a sneak nowaheadof the crowd.“Mike followed along, Jill’s hand in his. Presently they were going through anelaborately arched tunnel with the noise of the crowd left behind them. Jubalsaid, .Does this way lead to the parking lot? I told my driver to wait.“.Eh?“ Boone answered. .It does if you go straight ahead. But we’re going tosee the Supreme Bishop first.“.What?“ Jubal replied. .No, I don’t think we can. It’s time for us to get onhome.“Boone stared. .Doctor, you don’t mean that. The Supreme Bishop is waitingfor us right now. You can’t just walk out on him-you must pay your respects.
You’re his guests.“Jubal hesitated, then gave in. .Well- There won’t be a lot of other people?
This boy has had enough excitement for one day.“.Just the Supreme Bishop. He wants to see you privately.“ Boone usheredthem into a small elevator concealed in the decorations of the tunnel;moments later they were waiting in a parlor of Digby’s private apartments.
A door opened, Digby hurried in. He had removed his vestments and wasdressed in flowing robes. He smiled at them. .Sorry to keep you waiting,folks-I just have to have a shower as soon as I come off. You’ve no notionhow it makes you sweat to punch Satan and keep on slugging. So this is theMan from Mars? God bless you, son. Welcome to the Lord’s House.
Archangel Foster wants you to feel at home here. He’s watching over you.“Mike did not answer. Jubal was surprised to see how short the SupremeBishop was. Lifts in his shoes when he was on stage? Or the way the lightingwas arranged? Aside from the goatee he wore in evident imitation of thedeparted Foster, the man reminded him of a used-car salesman-the sameready smile and warm sincere manner. But he reminded Jubal of some oneelse, too . . . somebody- Got it! .Professor“ Simon Magus, Becky Vesey’slong-dead husband. Jubal relaxed a little and felt friendlier toward theclergyman. Simon had been as likable a scoundrel as he had ever known-Digby had turned his charm on Jill, .Don’t kneel, daughter; we’re just friendsin private here.“ He spoke a few words to her, startling Jill with a surprisingknowledge of her background and adding earnestly, .I have deep respect foryour calling, daughter. In the blessed words of Archangel Foster, Godcommands us first to minister to the body in order that the soul may seek thelight untroubled by ills of the flesh. I know that you are not yet one of us . . .
but your service is blessed by the Lord. We are fellow travelers on the road toHeaven.“He turned to Jubal. .You, too, Doctor. Archangel Foster has told us that theLord commands us to be happy - . - and many is the time I have put down mycrook, weary unto death with the cares and woes of my flock, and enjoyed aninnocent, happy hour over one of your stories - and have stood up refreshed,ready to fight again.“.Uh, thank you, Bishop.“.I mean it deeply. I’ve had your record searched in Heaven-now, now, nevermind; I know that you are an unbeliever but let me speak. Even Satan has apurpose in God’s Great Plan. It is not yet time for you to believe. Out of yoursorrow and heartache and pain you spin happiness for other people. This isall credited on your page of the Great Ledger. Now please! I did not bring youhere to argue technology. We never argue with anyone, we wait until theysee the light and then we welcome them. But today we shall just enjoy ahappy hour together.“Digby then proceeded to act as if he meant it. Jubal was forced to admit thatthe glib fraud was a charming host, and his coffee and liquor and food wereall excellent. Jubal noticed that Mike seemed decidedly jumpy, especiallywhen Digby deftly cut him out of the herd and spoke with him alone-but,confound it, the boy was simply going to have to get used to meeting peopleand talking to them on his own, without Jubal or Jill or somebody to feed himhis lines.
Boone was showing Jill some relics of Foster in a glass case on the otherside of the room; Jubal covertly watched her evident reluctance with mildamusement while he spread pate de fois gras on toast. He heard a door clickand looked around; Digby and Mike were missing. .Where did they go,Senator?“.Eh? What was that, Doctor?“.Bishop Digby and Mr. Smith. Where are they?“Boone looked around, seemed to notice the closed door. .Oh, they’ve juststepped in there for a moment. That’s a little retiring room used for privateaudiences. You were in it, weren’t you? When the Supreme Bishop wasshowing you around.“.Um, yes.“ It was a small room with nothing in it but a chair on a dais-a.throne,“ Jubal corrected himself with a private grin-and a kneeler with an annrest. Jubal wondered which one would use the throne and which one wouldbe left with the kneeler-if this tinsel bishop tried to argue religion with Mike hewas in for some shocks. .I hope they don’t stay in there too long. We reallydo have to be getting back.“.I doubt if they’ll stay long. Probably Mr. Smith wanted a word in private.
People often do - . - and the Supreme Bishop is very generous that way.
Look, I’ll call the parking lot and have your cab waiting right at the end of thatpassageway where we took the elevator-that’s the Supreme Bishop’s privateentrance. Save you a good ten minutes.“.That’s very kind of you.“.So if Mr. Smith has something on his soul he wants to confess, we won’thave to hurry him. I’ll step outside and phone.“ Boone left.
Jill came over and said worriedly, .Jubal, I don’t like this. I think we weredeliberately maneuvered so that Digby could get Mike alone and work onhim.“.I’m sure of it.“.Well? They haven’t any business doing that. I’m going to bust right in onthem and tell Mike it’s time to leave.“.Suit yourself,“ Jubal answered, .but I think you’re acting like a broody hen.
This isn’t like having the S.S. on our tails, Jill; this swindle is much smoother.
There won’t be any strong-arm stuff.“ He smiled. .It’s my opinion that if Digbytries to convert Mike, they’ll wind up with Mike converting him. Mike’s ideasare pretty hard to shake.“.I still don’t like it.“.Relax. Help yourself to the free chow.“.I’m not hungry.“.Well, I am .. and if I ever tuned down a free feed, they’d toss me out of theAuthors’ Guild.“ He piled paper-thin Virginia ham on buttered bread, added toit other items, none of them syntho, until he had an unsteady ziggurat,munched it and licked mayonnaise from his fingers.
Ten minutes later Boone had not returned. Jill said sharply, .Jubal, I’m notgoing to remain polite any longer. I’m going to get Mike out of there.“.Go right ahead.“She strode to the door. .Jubal, it’s locked.“.Thought it might be.“.Well? What do we do? Break it down?“.Only as a last resort.“ Jubal went to the inner door, looked it over carefully.
.Mmm, with a battering ram and twenty stout men I might try it. But I wouldn’tcount on it. Jill, that door would do credit to a bank vault-it’s just been prettiedup to match the room. I’ve got one much like it for the fireproof off my study.“.What do We do?“.Beat on it, if you want to. You’ll just bruise your hands. I’m going to seewhat’s keeping friend Boone-.
But when Jubal looked out into the hallway he saw Boone just returning.
.Sorry,“ Boone said. .Had to have the Cherubim hunt up your driver. He wasin the Happiness Room, having a bite of lunch. But your cab is waiting foryou, just where I said.“.Senator,“ Jubal said, .we’ve got to leave now. Will you be so kind as to tellBishop Digby?“Boone looked perturbed. .I could phone him, if you insist. But I hesitate to doso-and I simply cannot walk in on a private audience.“.Then phone him. We do insist.“But Boone was saved the embarrassment as, just then, the inner dooropened and Mike walked out. Jill took one look at his face and shrilled, .Mike!
Are you all right?“.Yes, Jill.“.I’ll tell the Supreme Bishop you’re leaving,“ said Boone and went past Mikeinto the smaller room. He reappeared at once. .He’s left,“ he announced.
.There’s a back way into his study.“ Boone smiled. .Like cats and cooks, theSupreme Bishop goes without saying. That’s a joke. He says that .good-by’s’
add nothing to happiness in this world, so he never says good-by. Don’t beoffended.“.We aren’t. But we’ll say good-by now-and thank you for a most interestingexperience. No, don’t bother to come down; I’m sure we can find our wayout.“