reminded Jill of undertakers' parlors but was filled with cheerful music. The theme was Jingle
The far wall was glass and appeared to be not even that. Boone said briskly, «Here we are, folks — in the Presence. You don't have to kneel — but do so if it makes you feel better. Most pilgrims do. And there
Boone gestured with his cigar. «Don't he look natural? Preserved by a miracle, flesh incorruptible. That's the very chair he used when he wrote his Messages … and that's the pose he was in when he went to Heaven. He's never been moved — we built the Tabernacle right around him … removing the old church, naturally, and preserving its sacred stones.»
Facing them about twenty feet away, seated in a chair remarkably like a throne, was an old man. He looked as if he were alive … and he reminded Jill of an old goat on the farm where she had spent childhood summers — out-thrust lower lip, the whiskers, the fierce, brooding eyes. Jill felt her skin prickle; Archangel Foster made her uneasy.
Mike said in Martian,«
«I don't know, Mike. They say he is.»
He answered,«
«I don't know, I tell you.»
«
«Mike! Remember!»
«Yes, Jill.»
Boone said, «What's 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 feel faint.» She glanced at the corpse. Billowing clouds were above it; one shaft of light cut through and sought out the face. As lighting changed the face seemed to change, the eyes seemed bright and alive.
Boone said soothingly, «It has that effect, first time. You ought to try the seekers' gallery below us — looking up and with different music. Heavy music, with subsonics, I believe it is — reminds 'em of their sins. Now
«Please, Senator!»
«Oh, certainly. Wait outside, m'dear. Mr. Smith, you stay as long as you like.»
Jubal said, «Senator, hadn't we best get on into the services?»
They left. Jill was shaking — she had been scared silly that Mike might do something to that grisly exhibit — get them all lynched.
Two guards thrust crossed spears in their path at the portal of the Sanctuary. Boone said reprovingly, «Come, come! These pilgrims are the Supreme Bishop's personal guests. Where are their badges?»
Badges were produced and with them door prize numbers. A respectful usher said, «This way, Bishop,» and led them up wide stairs to a center box facing the stage.
Boone stood back. «You first, little lady.» Boone wanted to sit next to Mike: Harshaw won and Mike sat between Jill and Jubal, with Boone on the aisle.
The box was luxurious-self-adjusting seats, ash trays, drop tables for refreshments. They were above the congregation and less than a hundred feet from the altar. In front of it a young priest was warming up the crowd, shuffling to music and shoving heavily muscled arms back and forth, fists clenched. His strong bass voice joined the choir from time to time, then he would lift it in exhortation:
«Up off your behinds! Gonna let the Devil catch you napping?»
A snake dance was weaving down the right aisle, across in front, and back up the center aisle, feet stomping in time with the priest's piston-like jabs and the syncopated chant of the choir. Clump, clump;
«That boy's a comer,» Boone said approvingly. «I've team-preached with him and I can testify he turns the crowd over to you sizzlin'. Reverend ”Jug” Jackerman — used to play left tackle for the Rams. You've seen him.»
«I'm afraid not,» Jubal admitted. «I don't follow football.»
«Really? Why, during the season most of the faithful stay after services, eat lunch in their pews, and watch the game. The wall behind the altar slides away and you're looking into the biggest stereo tank ever built. Puts the plays right in your lap. Better reception than you get at home — and it's more thrill with a crowd around you.» He whistled. «Cherub! Over here!»
Their usher hurried over. «Yes, Bishop?»
«Son, you ran away so fast I didn't have time to put in my order.»
«I'm sorry, Bishop.»
«Being sorry won't get you into Heaven. Get happy, son. Get that old spring into your step and stay on your toes. Same thing all around, folks?» He gave the order and added, «Bring me a handful of my cigars — see the chief barkeep.»
«Right away, Bishop.»
«Bless you, son. Hold it — » The snake dance was about to pass under them; Boone leaned over, made a megaphone of hands and cut through the noise. «Dawn! Hey,
The woman showed up quickly, as did the drinks. Boone swung a seat out of the back row for her. «Folks, meet Miss Dawn Ardent. M'dear, that's Miss Boardman, the little lady down in the comer — and this is the famous Doctor Jubal Harshaw here by me — »
«Really? Doctor, I think your stories are simply divine!»
«Thank you.»
«Oh, I do! I put one of your tapes on and let it lull me to sleep almost every night.»
«Higher praise a writer cannot expect,» Jubal said with a straight face.
«That's enough, Dawn,» put in Boone. «The young man between them is … Mr. Valentine Smith, the Man from Mars.»
Her eyes got big. «Oh, my goodness!»
Boone roared. «Bless you, child! I really snuck up on you.»
She said, «Are you
«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 a Bishop? M'dear, how would you like to help lead the Man from Mars to the light?»
«Oh, I'd love it!»
(You would, you sleek bitch! Jill said to herself.) She had been growing angry ever since Miss Ardent joined them. The woman's dress was long sleeved, high necked, and opaque — and covered nothing. It was a knit fabric the shade of her tanned skin and Jill was certain that skin was all there was under it — other than Miss Ardent, which was plenty. The dress was ostentatiously modest compared with the clothes of most females in the congregation, some of whom seemed about to jounce out.
Jill thought that Miss Ardent looked as if she had just wiggled out of bed and was anxious to crawl back in. With Mike. Quit squirming your carcass at him, you cheap hussy!
Boone said, «I'll speak to the Supreme Bishop, m'dear. Now get back and lead that parade. Jug needs you.»
«Yes, Bishop. Pleased to meet you, Doctor, and Miss Broad. I hope I'll see you again, Mr. Smith. I'll pray for you.» She undulated away.
«A fine girl, that,» Boone said happily. «Ever catch her act, Doc?»
«I think not. What does she do?»
«You don't
«No.»
