nevertheless it was starting a small flame of tolerance in her middle. But nobody spoke up, so she trailed along as Boone led them away, up a flight of stairs, past a sign reading: POSITIVELY NO SEEKERS NOR SINNERS ALLOWED ON THIS LEVEL - THIS MEANS YOU!
Beyond the sign was a heavy grilled gate. Boone said to it: 'Bishop Boone and three pilgrims, guests of the Supreme Bishop.'
The gate swung open. He led them around a curved passage and into a room.
It was a moderately large room, luxuriously appointed in a style that reminded Jill of undertakers' parlors, but it was filled with cheerful music. The basic theme seemed to be 'Jingle Bells' but a Congo beat had been added and the arrangement so embroidered that its ancestry was not certain. Jill found 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're pilgrims - but do so if it makes you feel better. Most pilgrims do. And there he is just as he was when he was called up to Heaven.'
Boone gestured with his cigar. 'Don't he look natural? Preserved by a miracle, his flesh incorruptible. That's the very chair he used to sit in when he wrote his messages? and that's just the pose he was in when he went to Heaven. He never moved and he's never been moved - we just built the Tabernacle right around him? removing the old church, naturally, and preserving its sacred stones.' Opposite them about twenty feet away, facing them, seated in a big arm chair remarkably like a throne, was an old man. He looked as if he were alive - and he reminded Jill strongly of an old goat that had 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 her uneasy. 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 feel faint.' She glanced back at the corpse. There were billowing clouds above it and one shaft of light always cut through and sought out the face. The light changed enough so that the face seemed to change and the eyes seemed bright and alive.
Boone said soothingly, 'It sometimes has that effect, the first time. But you ought to look at him from the seekers' gallery below us - looking up at him and with entirely different music. Entirely. Heavy music, with subsonics in it, I believe it is - reminds 'em of their sins. Now this room is a Happy Thoughts meditation chamber for high officials of the Church - I often come here and sit and 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 as long 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 been scared silly that Mike might do something to that grisly exhibit - and get them all 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 the Sanctuary. Boone said reprovingly, 'Come, come! These pilgrims are the Supreme Bishop's personal guests. Where are their badges?'
The confusion was straightened out, the badges produced and with them their door prize numbers. A respectful usher said, 'This way, Bishop,' and led them 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 a tussle of wills; Boone wanted to sit next to Mike in order to answer his questions. Harshaw won and Mike sat between Jill and Jubal, with Boone on the aisle.
The box was roomy and luxurious, with very comfortable, self-adjusting seats, ash trays for each seat and drop tables for refreshments folded against the rail in front of them. Their balcony position placed them about fifteen feet over the heads of the congregation and not more than a hundred feet 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 to time, then he would lift it in exhortation:
'Up off your behinds! What are you waiting for? Gonna let the Devil catch you napping'?'
The aisles were very wide and a snake dance was moving down the right aisle, across in front of the altar, and weaving back up the center aisle, feet stomping in time with the priest's piston-like jabs and with the syncopated chant of the choir. Clumps clump, moan!? clump, clump, moan! Jill felt the beat of it and realized sheepishly that it would be fun to get into that snake dance - as more and more people were doing under the brawny young priest's taunts.
'That boy's a comer,' Boone said approvingly. 'I've team-preached with him a few times and I can testify that he turns the crowd over to you already sizzlin'. 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 most of the faithful stay after services, eat their lunches in their pews, and watch the game. The whole back wall behind the altar slides away and you're looking right 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 of a thrill to watch 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 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? Fine!' He gave the order and added, 'and bring me back a handful of my cigars - just ask the chief barkeep.'
'Right away, Bishop.'
'Bless you, son. Hold it-' The head of the snake dance was just about to pass under them; Boone leaned over the rail, made a megaphone of his hands and cut through the high noise level. 'Dawn! Hey, Dawn!' A woman looked up; he caught her eye, motioned her to come up. She smiled. 'Add a whiskey sour to that order. Fly.'
The woman showed up quickly, as did the drinks. Boone swung a seat out of the box's back row and put it cornerwise in front of him so that she could visit more easily. 'Folks, meet Miss Dawn Ardent. M'dear, that's Miss Boardman, the little lady down in the corner - and this is the famous Doctor Jubal Harshaw here 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 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 sitting between them is? 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 a Bishop? M'dear, how would you like to help lead the Man from Mars to the light?'
'Oh, I'd love it!'
(You certainly would, you sleek bitch! Jill said to herself. She had been growing increasingly angry ever since Miss Ardent had joined them. The dress the woman was wearing was long sleeved, high necked, and opaque - and covered nothing. It was a knit fabric almost exactly the shade of her tanned skin and Jill was certain that skin was
