move was to go back to the cottage and work with you to get the information out of one of Vicky's parents.' He took one hand off the steering wheel to rub his thighs, which had to be beginning to cramp, then reached out and pressed my shoulder. 'The bottom line was that if we were going to die, I wanted us to be together. I hadn't seen Thompson inside the church, and that made me uneasy. I wanted to make sure you were all right.'
'Thanks, Garth,' I said seriously. 'I may give you rescue credit after all.'
'Anyway, I was on my way back to the cottage when I caught sight of Thompson lurching up the road with that ax. I had a pretty good idea who he was chasing, so I took off after him. I was looking to get a good shot at him, but he had too much of a lead. By the time I caught up, you were all out paddling on that oversize cesspool. I couldn't fire at him without risk of hitting you or Vicky, and I didn't want to waste any bullets. I'd seen some of these golf carts back by the church, so I ran back and got this. By the time I made it back to the water, you were out of sight. But I knew you had to be trying to make it to the other side, so I just pedaled around on this path.' He paused and, despite the pain evident in his body and his shortness of breath, chuckled. 'If I'd known you were just sitting there resting, I wouldn't have been so quick on the trigger; I'd have just stood there and waited for you to stick that ax up his-''
'We have young ears among us, brother.'
'— nose.'
At the arched entranceway to the living quarters, Garth turned sharply and headed straight down the center of the road toward the swastika-crowned church at the end.
'Hold it!' I said as we came abreast of the Browns' cottage. 'Vicky's parents may have stayed in their cottage; we have to check.'
Garth braked to a halt, then grabbed the back of my shirt just as I'd been about to topple out of the cart onto my face. 'You stay here,' he said curtly. 'I'm still a paler green than you are.'
Garth got out of the cart, paused for a few seconds to catch his breath and knead the muscles in his legs, then hurried into the cottage. I held Vicky very close, waited. He reappeared a few moments later, hurried back to the cart. There was a strange expression on his face.
'They're gone?' I asked.
Garth nodded absently, got back into the cart, and resumed his pedaling.
'What's the matter?'
His reply was to show me the watch on his left wrist. He had reset it to local time.
It read 12:07.
'Maybe it's wrong,' I continued tightly.
Garth shook his head. 'It's not wrong; I checked the time when we were up in the plane.'
'As much as Lippitt cares for us, I can't believe that he'd take a chance with the lives of millions of people and risk a world war just to spare the Fredericksons. And he's had plenty of time; even if his people somehow missed the Eastern Time deadline, they couldn't have missed this one. And he can't know that I managed to smash the transmitter.'
'I agree.'
'Then why the hell are we still alive? Where are the bombs?'
'I don't know,' Garth said as he braked to a halt in front of the church. He quickly got out, pointed to a path leading around behind the church. 'Get Vicky out of here. That path leads right to the door that will let you out of here.'
But the child was having none of it. 'I want my mommy and daddy!' she cried as she struggled out of my grasp, jumped over the side of the cart, and hurried after Garth.
I caught up with her on the steps, swept her up in my arms. I walked through the open door into the sanctuary, stopped beside my brother, and almost cried out. I quickly reached up and pushed Vicky's face into my shoulder, shielding her eyes from the horror.
There were upwards of three dozen people in the sanctuary, the population of Eden. Twenty of them were still on their feet, all dressed in white terry-cloth robes, lined up in the center aisle before their altar of death on which had been placed the large bowl of poison and a stack of paper cups.
The rest were dead or dying. Hector Velazian was crumpled in a heap at the foot of the altar, his once- handsome Latin features now almost unrecognizable in a face knotted in horrible agony. The ex-major league ballplayer's head lay in a pool of vomit. Billy Dale Rokan, the other ex-ballplayer who had served on Nuvironment's security staff, had lifted a cup to his lips, but was apparently having second thoughts as he gazed in horror at his dying friend.
Whatever Tanker Thompson had mixed into the brew was obviously doing the trick-perhaps too well; a number of the others were looking at one another uncertainly, while a few were exhorting the man at the head of the line to get on with it and drink up. Vicky's parents were standing just behind Rokan.
'Mommy!' Vicky called as she struggled to get out of my arms. I held her firmly. 'Daddy!'
The people on line turned, saw us standing at the other end of the aisle. There were gasps, cries of alarm. Both of the Browns started toward us, but Billy Dale Rokan grabbed their arms and pulled them back.
'I want my baby!' the woman shouted.
'The demons have her,' Rokan said in a trembling voice as he set aside the paper cup filled with poison. 'If you go to them, they'll have you.'
'Shut up, Rokan,' Garth said in an even voice that nevertheless carried throughout the chamber. 'Stop being a horse's ass.'
Billy Dale Rokan looked back and forth between Garth and the cup he had placed back on the altar.
'Now, all of you listen to me,' Garth continued in the tone of voice of a stern parent, 'and you listen good. We don't have a hell of a lot of time. You've all been duped-first by William Kenecky and Peter Patton, and then by Thomas Thompson. The world isn't ending tonight, and there aren't any demons outside. You'll find the world outside just the same as it's always been, except that it will be missing those poor fools on the floor who've burned their guts out.'
'Why be in such a hurry to die, Mrs. Brown?' I asked as I stroked Vicky's hair. The child had relaxed slightly, and had buried her face in my shoulder, apparently content now to remain in the arms of her Santa's helper. I could not know what the child was thinking and could only hope that her mind was numbed by shock; she'd already had far too much horror inflicted on her.
'Because it's the end of the world! The Final Days are here!'
'No, Mrs. Brown,' Garth said firmly. 'There are no demons outside. If there were, they'd already be in here by now, because my brother and I put a pretty good hole in your dome when we let ourselves in. You have three choices: drink that stuff and die like your friends have died, stay here and wait for bombs to start dropping on your heads, or come out with the three of us. There's nothing outside to be afraid of; it's all in your minds. Come and see.'
I said, 'You've all been listening to people like Kenecky and hopping each other up for so long that you can't tell truth from fantasy. Now's the time to listen to my brother. For once in your lives, give reality a chance.'
Billy Dale Rokan slowly blinked. 'Bombs?'
'You heard right,' I replied. 'By rights, this place should be rubble right now. I don't know why it's not, but the bombs could start dropping at any moment.' I paused, looked hard at Vicky's mother. 'Come out with us, Mrs. Brown. Take your husband's hand, and come out with us and your daughter. Look at the corpses in front of you. Do you really think God wants Vicky to suffer like that? Take a chance on life.'
Vicky turned her face toward her parents-but she did not try to get out of my arms. Instead, she brought her hands up and gestured to her parents, beckoning them in a way that brought tears to my eyes. 'Please, Mommy,' she said in her small child's voice. 'Daddy? I don't want to go to God now, and I don't want you to go. I want to play with my puppy. Please listen to Mr. Mongo and Garth. Please come away.'
'Let her go, Rokan,' I said. 'Let them both go. If you want to drink that stuff and burn away your insides, go ahead. But let the Browns make their own decision.'
Billy Dale Rokan hesitated, then released his grip on the arms of the man and woman. The Browns came rushing up the aisle to us. I set Vicky down to allow her to embrace her mother-but I kept a firm grip on one small hand.
