'Oh? Who, might I ask?'
'God.'
'Well! Where is He, sir?' Wilder smiled. 'Is He massing great armies to come to your assistance? No, I think not, sir. You're quite alone with your faith.' He laughed.
'You and your pitiful handful and a silly Jew who doesn't even believe in my Master.'
'All Miles needs—and has—is the belief in a power greater than he. That's enough.'
'You're defending his faith?'
'Why not?'
Wilder sighed. 'You're a strange man, Mr. Balon. But, be that as it may, I still maintain you are alone in your fight. May I be seated, sir? Please—we have much to discuss and I see no reason why we can't be comfortable while doing so. Perhaps you would care to put on a shirt, sir. I'm afraid if you don't, Nydia is quite apt to start drooling down the front of her dress.'
The witch laughed at him.
Sam had to smile at the ludicrousness of the situation. He nodded, then slipped into a shirt. The men sat. Wilder on the couch, Sam in his easy chair.
'Nydia?' Wilder said. 'Why don't you and—' he smiled 'Mrs. Balon go into the kitchen and prepare some refreshments? Some coffee, or tea, if you will.' He glanced at Sam. 'I'm suggesting they both go so you won't think I'm attempting to poison or drug you. I assure you, sir, that is not my style.'
'You will not need that weapon, Jane Ann,' Nydia said. 'I will not attempt to harm you—either of you—without his permission,' she glanced at Wilder. 'And he has said we make no moves until twelve-oh-one a.m. Thursday. For whatever it means to either of you, you have our word on that. There are rules
'Sam?' Jane Ann spoke the one word question.
'Go on, honey. For now, I believe them. It's still a game to them. They're going to try to convert us. Besides, they would rather not lose any members of their Coven by my hand.'
'Exactly, sir,' Wilder smiled, adjusting the crease in his trousers, flicking away an imaginary spot of dust from his suit coat. 'And those who, as you put it, 'jumped the gun,' this evening, will be punished for doing so. Believe that, sir.'
The men sat in silence for a few minutes, while women puttered around in the kitchen, speaking in low tones. Sam was amused, thinking that even among the hierarchy of Hell, women were still, at times, relegated to the kitchen.
When the women returned, Jane Ann's face was pale and angry. She sat down on the arm of Sam's chair. 'What's wrong?' he asked.
'Nydia failed the first assignment,' Wilder said. 'Aside from being crude and vulgar, she is also tactless.'
Sam's look was puzzled until Jane Ann explained. 'She told me all about the . . . pleasures of their worship. She went into great detail. It seems, so she says, that if we join them, we can live forever. Wilder can assure us of that; our God cannot, according to her. She told me a great deal about . . . sex. Without limits, if you know what I mean. She was disgusting!'
Nydia laughed.
'Disgusting only to your way of thinking; your present beliefs,' Wilder said, after a sip of tea. 'But there is so much more than sex involved with us. I can promise you power, Mr. Balon. I can promise—and deliver—to you, sir, anything you ever dreamed of. Join us, name it, and it's yours.
'No way,' Sam said.
The fastidiously dressed agent of the devil smiled, leaning forward. 'Do you really know what you're rejecting, Mr. Balon? Really? Sir, I'm offering you the entire world! Not just this world, but worlds beyond this. I'm offering you a hundred thousand millenniums of pure pleasure.
'I'm—'
'I'm not interested,' Sam said. 'My God offers me a million millenniums with Him. I prefer His offer.'
'You are an incredible man, sir!'
'No,' Sam countered, 'just a man who believes very strongly in God.'
'But He offers you nothing!'
'He offers me eternal life.'
'But so do I! And so much more than that. Bah! You should take a glimpse of Heaven. Boring, sir, boring. There is absolutely nothing to do. Think of my offer, Mr. Balon, and name your pleasure. Young, sweet succulent girls of fifteen or sixteen, with openings so tight they would make you scream with delight. If that is your wish, I can give you dozens—hundreds of them. You want power? Name it. I'll give you power. I'll give you entire cities to rule—if you wish, I can name you supreme commander of entire galaxies.'
'What? Galaxies? You mean there are other worlds beyond ours?'
'Of course, sir. Hundreds of them.'
'Tell me about them.'
Wilder smiled, folding his arms across his chest. 'Are you interested, sir?'
'You'll do all this for me if I help you win Whitfield?'
'Exactly.'
'No.'
Wilder would not give up. He shifted his gaze to Jane Ann. 'And you, my dear—what is your pleasure. Name it, it's yours.'
She slipped her hand into Sam's. 'I have my pleasure.'
For just an instant, Wilder's eyes met Sam's. He knows, Sam thought. He knows I'm going to die. I wonder if he knows I'm going to beat him, though.
'Yes,' Wilder said. 'I do.' He shifted his back to Jane Ann. 'Would you not enjoy a thousand Sam Balons? All naked, with organs so large you would think they would never stop filling you? All of them ready to serve your every whim?'
Jane wondered about, but did not pursue the :conversation Wilder just had with Sam. She smiled at Wilder. 'I believe most women fantasize, Mr. Wilder. But I really don't care to be screwed with a baseball bat.' She smiled at Sam's shocked expression. 'Don't belittle it until you've experienced it,' Nydia said. 'I can assure you, my dear, being serviced by half a dozen men is something you'll never forget.'
'I think I'll pass. Thanks just the same,' Janey said.
Nydia looked at Wilder. She smiled, and with a minute shake of the head said, 'Impossible.'
'Yes,' Wilder said, rising, 'I believe you're right.' He looked at Sam. 'You won't reconsider, sir?'
'No.'
'I'll speak with your little band of friends, perhaps.'
'Go ahead, it won't do you a bit of good.'
'Yes,' Wilder smiled, but the muscles in his jaw were bunched with frustration, the smile forced. 'I know. Very well, sir. You realize by now that we are not going to let you out of this county? Good. Well then, with that knowledge, you have something like twenty-four hours to make your peace with your God.'
And the men again passed their silent messages.
I'm going to kill you, Sam projected.
Yes, Wilder acquiesced, but in doing so, you'll be destroyed. What will you have gained?
Peace, and a place with my Father.
Bah!
'Please bear in mind, Mr. Balon: you will not beat me in the main,' Wilder's smile was evil. 'And consider this: after all the suffering and blood-letting of the elderly—which you are powerless to prevent; I will not and would not have let them escape—I will still have alternates you are not aware of. Knowing that, sir, I beg you to reconsider. Oh, my, Mr. Balon—what a team we could make.'
'No.'
Wilder and Nydia joined hands. 'Adieu, monsieur, mademoiselle,' he said, and they were gone, leaving behind them a slight smell of sulphur and two very startled people, staring at the empty room. 'Sam? How—what—?'
'I can't explain it. The devil's powers almost equal God's. You have to remember, Satan was once an Angel.'
