the Devil and was taken to hell right then and there. I looked upon the face of God and chose the path of light. Praise Jesus, I was saved!'
Thunderous applause washed over me and I found myself mouthing the word 'Alleluia!' I pulled the trodes off in disgust and let the Old One's growl rumble from my throat. Raven looked over at me and smiled. 'What do you think, Wolf?'
I patted my Beretta Viper. 'I've got a love offering for the good Reverend, right here.'
Raven decided that might be a bit extreme as our first effort at contact. He gave me the address for Roberts' ministry headquarters. I changed into a corduroy suit jacket, button-down shirt, and tie before I headed out, deferring to Raven's sense of decorum, not mine. The clothes hid my silver wolf's-head pendant and my Viper, but I didn't so much mind that. When entering the lion's den, it's best to dress like a lion.
Ill
Roberts' personal secretary was pretty enough that I would have considered converting were she willing to do some missionary work with me. She flashed me a smile as I came up the stairs to the third-floor foyer, but she kept getting distracted by the big goomer seated on the edge of her desk. He was clearly intent on ministering to her, but she looked like she wanted him exorcised faster than you could say 'Amen.'
I cleared my throat and quickscanned her nameplate. 'Evening, Miss Crandall. I'm Wolfgang Kies. I called ahead for an appointment with Dr. Roberts.'
The big man moved off the desk as she positively glowed at me. 'Yes, Mr. Kies. Six forty-five and you're exactly on time.' Her smile carried right on up into her blue eyes and clearly irked the other man.
'Do I get points for punctuality?'
'With me you do, Mr. Kies.' She looked up at the man. 'Brother Boniface will take you to Dr. Roberts.'
Boniface looked like an ape that had been given one of those all-over bikini waxes or a troll that had been cold-hammered into a smaller shape. Either way, he did not look happy to be in a suit and sent on a mission that would take him away from the charming Miss Crandall. As a result of his discomfort, somewhere inside his tiny skull one electron collided with another and all of a sudden he had a thought. It was too much for him to contain and he made his move to frisk me.
The Viper's barrel made athunk as I drew it in one smooth motion and poked a Mark of Cain in the center of Brother Boniface's forehead. He retreated a step and raised both hands to cover the bruise. 'Ask and ye shall receive, Boniface. Presume and I'll make a martyr out of you.'
I let the gun slip forward and hang from my index finger by the trigger guard. Boniface made a grab for it, but I ducked it under his hand and slid it onto Miss Crandall's desk. 'Keep it warm for me.'
'My pleasure,' she cooed. The gun slipped from sight beneath the level of her desk.
Boniface slunk forward and led me down a short hallway to Roberts' office. He only opened one of the two oak doors, but it was double-wide anyway and provided a stunning panorama as I entered. I didn't feel slighted only getting the single-door treatment because I got the distinct impression that even if Jesus returned for an encore he wouldn't get a two-door salute.
The very first thing I noticed in the room was the expensive wooden paneling on the walls, and the stunning number of leather-bound books lining the bookshelves. Reverend Roberts had laid out significant nuyen to splash old-world respectability around his office. The west wall was made entirely of glass, with a view of the Sound that impressed even the Old One. Shown a picture of this place and asked to choose whether it belonged to some highly placed corpgeek or a preacher constantly crying poormouth, I'd have been wrong even with two free guesses.
It took me about two seconds to scan the place and get the Old One's howl to vet my opinion. By that time, the unearthly scent of hundreds of carnations assaulted my nose. Save for the top of Boniface's head, every flat surface in the room boasted a vase jammed with carnations of various colors. I recalled the riot of flora surrounding the Reverend on the simchip, but 3-D reality was another order of magnitude above even that.
The gaudiest of the carnations resided in the buttonhole of Roberts' lapel. Standing behind his desk, he nodded to me and extended his hand. 'Welcome, Mr. Kies.'
I accepted his hand and found his grip disturbingly firm. I normally judge a man by how he shakes hands, but Roberts' grip felttoo right and practiced. The difference might have been subtle, and I could have put it down to my general dislike of him, but I got the feeling he was playing at being a regular guy.
'I thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.' I dropped myself into the chair in front of his desk. Boniface drifted oVer to stand right behind me, but I chose to ignore him. 'I apologize for any inconvenience to a man with your busy schedule.'
Roberts nodded and gave me a reassuring smile. 'How could I refuse to see you when the message said you were interested in those children in the Barrens?'
His smile grew and his hands spread wide apart. 'Of course, I've heard of your Dr. Raven. Though I've never had occasion to use the services of an individual in your trade, what I have heard about Dr. Raven's been very encouraging. The respect in which he is held by some of the lower classes will help ease concerns about possible sinister motives on my part. I must admit, however, I had not expected Raven to join forces with me in this matter.'
I leaned back in the padded leather chair. 'I hate to burst your bubble, Reverend Roberts, but I'm not here to offer Raven's help concerning the children. As you know, homeless children in the Barrens are legion, and most would welcome your aid. These kids don't want it. We want you to leave them alone.'
His head came up and a bit of light reflected from his scalp despite the thinly sown rows of blond hair transplants. 'Leave them alone? How can I do that, Mr. Kies?' His wounded tone began to parallel the tape's parable preamble, but I could do nothing to deflect him. 'Those children need help and I hardly think they're in a position to determine what's best for them. They need good food and schooling and direction. They cannot be allowed to waste away in the dung-heap of society. We must take them into our fold to encourage others to do the same with similar tragic cases.'
'Dr. Raven agrees with you in that regard, Reverend.' I held a hand up, sending a quiver through Boniface. 'He's already running full background checks on all the children in that house, using resources you don't command. He will find out who they really are and will get them help. We can get them protection in the Barrens and we can ensure they receive the aid necessary for them to rise above their beginnings.'
'Can you, Mr. Kies? Can you expect me to back off when what you suggest is making them fit fish for that small pond, whereas I will take them away from the Barrens and make them productive members of society?'
I didn't like the reproving tone of his question. 'The people of the Barrens are capable of taking care of themselves. Betty Beggings and others work to form meta-family groups and to give people a solid base from which to operate.'
Roberts smiled like a shark. 'But they do not have the resources at my command.' He stood and indicated the opulence of his office. 'They can command tribute from others in the Barrens, dividing and subdividing a very small pie into yet tinier morsels. I, on the other hand, solicit money from the rich and well-to-do in this society. I get in single contributions more nuyen than Betty Beggings and all her ilk see in a lifetime. I can do for these children what no one else can.'
'But you do it at the cost of their freedom. They don't want your help.'
Roberts batted my objection aside contemptuously. 'They are without proper documentation. They don't know what they want. The law says they must have custodianship, and I have decided to be their benefactor. In following my example, other members of my flock will adopt other children from the Barrens and we will rebuild this society.'
My eyes slowly shifted from green to silver as my anger rose. 'You will remake these children in your image?'
The good Reverend ignored my question as he walked toward the wall of windows in his office. He stood with his back to me, the dying sun making him a silhouette outlined by a red corona. The shadow narrowed, then expanded again as he turned to face me. 'Do you believe in God, Mr. Kies?'
'I fail to see what that has to do with the matter at hand.'
'I'm sure you do, and I will accept that as a 'No,' for the sake of what I am about to say. You see, Ido believe in God. I believe in a merciful and forgiving God, but a God who demands his people work for their salvation. Once upon a time I was like those children-wild, abandoned, and angry at society. Then God gave me a choice: Eternal Damnation or life with him forever. For the first time I looked beyond my next meal and chose a course for my
