“And just how up-to-date are such commandments as,
Don stared at him. He got out, “Pardon me, Your Supreme Holiness, but I’ll be darned if you sound very devout.”
The other put down his cigar and took up his glass of port. He said wryly, “My son, it has been said that the more one knows of one’s religion, the less one believes. However, I have not been speaking of my religion but of the old and antiquated ones. Our religion fits modern conditions. We do not envision an improbably man-like God who comes down to Earth and strolls about punishing those who do not worship him wholeheartedly, unthinkingly. We believe in evolution, not creation, though possibly we acceed to the fact that the Almighty Ultimate directed evolution. We are strong on the acceptable teachings of the old religions, such as the Golden Rule, but we scorn the anachronistic.”
Demming and Rostoff were returning from the terrace.
The Grand Presbyter said, “Think about it. I am of the belief that your taking Holy Orders would do our common, hmmm, interest much good.”
“Okay,” Don said.
Demming said, “The ladies will be in the Gold Room. Shall we join them, Your Supreme Holiness, Colonel Mathers, Max?”
The Gold Room adjoined the Blue Dining Room and, of course, the motif was golden, even including the frames which housed the Renaissance paintings on the walls. Once again, Don Mathers was no connoisseur of either furniture or art objects, but it came off to him as on the gaudy side.
The ladies were seated and had small liqueur glasses before them. In keeping with the room, Alicia’s drink seemed to contain specks of gold suspended in a water-colored liquid that could have been gin or vodka. Don couldn’t help stare at it, as the three men came up.
The girl laughed. “It’s
“I learn something every day,” Don said.
All laughed, or at least smiled.
The conversation became lighter than it had been when the four men were by themselves, but shortly the Grand Presbyter checked his wrist chronometer and looked up, as though in regret.
“I am afraid my morning duties are such that I must leave,” he said. “It has been a most enjoyable evening.” His eyes went to Demming and Rostoff. “And I trust a most profitable one as a result of our decisions.”
Demming lumbered to his feet, summoned a servant from one of the several who hovered in the background, and, after His Supreme Holiness had made his goodbyes to the others, led him to the room’s elevator. Seemingly, there was an elevator door in every room in the house, Don decided. It was the damnedest system he had ever come up against.
After the Grand Presbyter and his servant guide had gone, Don said, “You know, I should get to bed myself. From what you say, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, and, first of all, I’m going to have to report at the spaceport. I imagine Command is going to be wondering where in the world I am, although they’ve made no attempt to contact me.”
Demming huffed, “Have you any preference as to your accommodations here, Donal? The type of suite in which you would feel most at home?”
It hadn’t occurred to Don that he would have a selection. He had expected simply to be assigned a room.
He said, “Why, actually, if it makes no difference to you, I’d like to stay up in the penthouse. Your gardens are beautiful and we space pilots see little enough of trees, grass and flowers.”
Alicia stood. “Ill show Don to the visitor’s suite in the right wing, Father.”
The others, save Martha, stood as well and Don said his goodnights. The two men were as friendly as though he was a bosom companion of long years’ standing.
He followed the girl to the elevator, the door to which opened automatically at their approach. He was surprised to find the compartment available.
“Back so soon?” he said.
She laughed. “This isn’t the same one the Grand Presbyter took,” she explained, entering before him. He followed her and she said into the order screen, “The visitor’s suite in the right wing of the penthouse.”
The elevator, if elevator it could properly be called, moved sidewards for a time.
Don said, “You know, I’ve never even heard of an elevator of this type.”
She smiled at him, seemingly glad to have him to herself for the first time this evening. She said, “It was constructed especially to father’s specifications. You see, this establishment consists of the top two floors of the building and the penthouse. There are also two floors of offices below devoted entirely to father’s projects. Father hates to walk. Besides, just getting about would be terribly time-consuming, if one had to. The library, for instance, must be the better part of half a kilometer from father’s bedroom.”
“Ultimate Almighty,” Don muttered.
The compartment started upward.
He said, “You mean this shaft that we’re in tunnels around to every room in the place?”
“Practically. It’s very handy.”
“Don’t you have ordinary halls and ordinary doors?”
“Why, yes. And if only a short distance is involved we utilize them.”
He said, “Does your father have this sort of layout in all of his, uh, establishments?”
“So far as I know. Possibly not in some of the smaller ones he maintains.”
Don said, “Look, how many, uh, establishments does your father have, that is, that he lives in?”
She looked mystified. “Why, I haven’t the slightest idea. He maintains some sort of living quarters in every really major city and also the major settlements on the satellites and Mars. Sometimes, in places he visits seldom or only briefly, it will consist of no more than an apartment sufficient for himself and his immediate staff, and possibly a few guests. You know, twenty-five rooms or so.”
“Really roughs it, eh?”
The compartment had stopped and the door opened into a living room. It was done in American Colonial antiques, and done very well, looking comfortable and certainly a damn sight more acceptable than either the dining room or the Gold Room in which they had spent the evening.
As they entered, she looked up from the side of her eyes and said, “Father has a good many interests, you must realize. It is quite impractical for him to go to hotels—that sort of thing. He must have one of his staffs, his business equipment, that sort of thing, immediately available. He must also be assured of security against the efforts of his business competitors. You know, bugging.”
“I suppose so,” Don said, taking in the room. He had seen a good deal of luxury recently but it occurred to him that when and if he made a permanent or semi-permanent establishment of his own in the near future, he might well have it done like this.
“Like it?” she said. “If it doesn’t appeal to you, there are other suites.”
“I like it very much.”
“Thank you. I designed it, selected the furniture, the paintings and so forth. Do you like Grant Wood?”
He hadn’t the slightest idea of who Grant Wood was. He said, “You’re an interior decorator?”
She said “An amateur. I have to find something to fill my time.”
He looked about. “Isn’t there an autobar? We could have a nightcap.”
Alicia shook her head. “No there isn’t. I don’t like autobars. I don’t much like automated things in general.”
She went over to what he had taken to be a bookcase and pressed something. The false front slid to one side. Behind was a large selection of bottles, glasses, bar equipment and even a small refrigeration compartment.
She said, over her shoulder, “What would you like?”
He said, “Holy smokes, where does your father get all this fancy guzzle of his?”
