Closed System

that was going on on a planet where the popu­lation was beautiful, healthy, and living in primi­tive conditions next door to a 'temple' where somewell-shielded power source produced electricity. Perhaps it was hopelessly romantic of him, he wasthinking, but he chose to cast Corinne in the roleof victim, too. There could have been no faking thesincerity of that kiss there in the throne room, and even as she was drugging him again, she'd beenkissing him with a fierce possessiveness which said to him, love, love.

'So perhaps we will go to Zede together,' theold man said.

'You're looking forward to it, then?' Pat asked.

The old man looked at him strangely. 'To beforever alive on the golden fields of Zede? To haveall of one's desires, and be united with all thosewho have gone before us? Why do we work? Whydo we observe the laws?'

'To live forever amid the splendors of the heav­enly fields of Zede,' Pat said, and the old mannodded.

'My friend,' Pat said, 'I will make a confessionto you, since we are going to travel to Zede to­gether. My service was in the field of the mind.'He didn't know exactly how far to go with the lie.'I worked with the priests to delve into the depthsof the mind. Do you understand?'

The old man was looking at him with interest.'How fortunate you are,' he said. 'And did youpartake of the joy magic?'

Pat nodded. 'There is one complication,' he said.'Having experienced such joy, the mind is dulled,and the memory is blunted.'

'Yes, yes, I have seen those who have experi­enced the joy magic.'

'Since I am going to Zede,' Pat said, 'I wouldhave my mind clear, my memories intact, lest Icommit some sin of omission. Can you help me?'

'I will try.'

'Tell me of the sacred books.'

'Alas,' the old man said. 'I was not chosen tobe a scholar. I know little of the sacred books of Fonforster.'

'If you will tell me the little you know I will begrateful,' Pat said.

'Well, then, when we came from theforfarvelts,fleeing the fury of the Beast, and the wings failed, there was left to us only the Fonforster. Even thenthe sacred books were ancient, printed upon pa­per, bound with leather to last the ages, unlike the wisdom which was lost with the angel wings. Theyare with us still, the ancient and sacred books ofFonforster, our sacred guide to living a life of mean­ing, and the wise ones, who interpret, who areentrusted with keeping the lights of Fonforster glow­ing, feed their souls upon the sacred writings andinform us, the people.'

'Everyone goes to Zede?' Pat asked, just tryingto prime the old man to keep talking.

'In his own time. You see, all the gods promise it.Even if it is not, as I have been told, spelled out inthe sacred books, it was revealed, in the ancientdays, to the priests. When the time is come oneenters the place of waiting, and is given time topurify his soul in thought before undertaking the journey. I am told that it is a beautiful sleep, withsecret-revealing dreams, and that after a little sleepwe awake with the gods and those who have gonebefore. There food grows under the soft, sweetrains, and the gods themselves harvest and dis­tribute it and are one with us. There we will walk hand in hand with the great Jove, and noble Osiris,and the great Jesus.'

'My friend, my mind is truly in a muddle. Iseem to be unable to remember the names of thegods.'

The old man laughed. 'You are not alone, brother.Only the wisest can remember all of them, forthere are hundreds, thousands, including those who,coming first to this place of redemption and cleans­ing labor, become gods.'

'I know Jesus,' Pat said.

'Yes, a god among gods,' the old man said. Hesmiled. 'Although I am now enlightened, therewas a time in my youth when I fear that I camealmost to agree with the heretics, who—' Hepaused, and looked around nervously.

'Yes?' Pat asked.

The old man crossed himself and then performedseveral more movements of sacred import. 'They,the heretics, said that Jesus and his father werethe One God.'

After a long pause, Pat asked, 'How is the jour­ney to Zede accomplished, friend?'

'On the invisible and all-powerful wings of theangels.'

'As we are?'

'No, no. We have no need for this gross body. We are, in eternity, not creatures of the flesh, butof the spirit.'

'Ah,' Pat said. 'A little sleep, and then thesoul is winged off to Zede on the wings of an­gels?'

The old man nodded. 'And thus,' he said, 'isthe sacred number preserved.'

'The sacred number?'

'The number of the people. There can never bemore than twoscore past five thousand.'

Pat felt a chill. Another question was answered.There was no evidence of an expanding populationon Dorchlunt. His overflight had shown the areaaround the temple to be the only area of habita­tion on the planet. To keep the population stable must require rigid birth control, and the 'sendingto Zede' of older people. Looking back, he realizedthat all of the men he'd seen seemed to be of an age between late teens and no more than forty,with the single exception of the Elder, AdrianKleeper.

'The ancestor worlds,' Pat asked, when he hadrecovered from the chilling shock of realization.'Is there a name for them?'

'The sacred names,' the old man breathed, and,in a sing song, began to chant off the names of a half-dozen Zedeian planets. Of the six he named,five had been destroyed in the Zedeian war by theUP planet reducers.

The old man clasped his hands as if in prayer,looked upward. 'And the father world, the worldof Fonforster, from whence came the sacred andancient books, the treasure of the world, the trea­sure of Zede, the sacred writings and the god listsand the stories of their triumphs and acts.'

Pat had more questions ready. He was forestalledby a sound of the door opening. A priest stoodthere, smiling at the old man. 'Father,' the priestsaid, 'you may come with me.'

A smile lit the old man's face. 'It is time, then?'

'It is time,' the priest said.

'My friend,' the old man said, coming to Pat'scot to take his hand, 'my journey begins. I'm sorry you're not going with me. Since your memory hasbeen blunted, I'm sure the good priests will re­fresh it, so that you may prepare for your ownjourney.'

Pat felt cold. He wished for his weapons, for anyweapon. The old man was going to his death witha smile on his face, gladness in his heart. He rose,still a bit weak, paced the small cell. He had nodoubt in his mind that he'd be next, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. Helooked around for a weapon. There were only thetwo homespun blankets on the rock ledges whichserved as cots. Otherwise the room was bare. Hewas dressed in shirt, beltless pants, underwear,and the soft, comfortable slip-on shoes he favored.A shoe was not heavy enough to make a weapon.He had only his hands. He resolved to use them when they came for him. He would not submitcalmly, without a struggle, to the injection, or whatever they used, to send a man into a littlesleep and then on that 'journey to Zede.'

When the door opened he was standing with his back against the wall next to it. The door opened outward and he held his breath, waiting for apriest to step inside.

'Pat?' That soft, throaty voice, and then she steppedinto the cell, Corinne. She'd changed from the longpurple gown into a neat coverall singlet, belted atthe waist. He lowered his hands. She saw him,turned to him and smiled.

'I told them to bring you to me immediatelywhen they had finished,' she said. She shivered. 'Idid not

intend to have them put youhere.' She knew, and she accepted it. What kind ofwoman was she? He was looking at her with new eyes. 'There was an old man here. He was being sent to Zede.'

She looked down, and her face saddened. 'Soon,such measures will no longer be necessary. Wewill be able to educate them out of their super­stitions.'

'Corinne, just who is 'we'?' 'Not here,' she said. She turned and left thecell, and he followed. There were no guards, nopriests. They came out into a stone corridor, madea turn, and were back at the apartment whereshe'd stabbed the syringe into his neck. Inside, shesat down. He stood facing her.