by Ben Bova
“I suppose I could,” the young man said hesitantly. “It’s very unusual, though. The bishop doesn’t normally—”
“This is an unusual situation,” said Stoner. “I’m sure the bishop will want to see us.”
“Mr. Tavalera.”
Tavalera turned and saw Sister Angelique coming through the door from the corridor, tall and slim, wearing a floor-length black dress. Her face is beautiful, he said to himself. When she smiles she can light up the whole room. But her smile seemed forced now, uncertain.
“Sister Angelique,” he said, genuinely glad to see her. “Uh, this is Keith Stoner.”
“Really?” Angelique studied Stoner’s face. “Our star voyager?”
Stoner smiled at her. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“I don’t know what to believe, Mr. Stoner. As yet.” She turned to Mayfair. “Doctor, you may return to your office now. Thank you for bringing Mr. Tavalera and Mr. Stoner here.”
Mayfair looked relieved, puzzled, worried, and glad all at the same time. He shot a brief glance at Stoner, shook his head, then beat a retreat toward the door that led to the corridor and back to the normality of his own office, his own world.
Turning back to Stoner, Angelique smiled tentatively. “Actually, it’s Dr. Stoner, isn’t it? You have a Ph.D. in astronomy.”
“Astrophysics,” said Stoner.
The young man at the desk spoke up. “Bishop Craig will see you now.” He looked rather surprised.
“Good,” Stoner said, genuinely pleased. “Thanks for your help, Bobby.”
The man blinked up at Stoner. “How did you know . . . ?”
“It’s a gift,” Stoner said. And he took a step toward the door with the golden plaque.
It opened without anyone touching it. Tavalera followed Stoner and Sister Angelique into Bishop Craig’s office.
It wasn’t a particularly large office, although it held a gleaming broad desk in one corner, backed by floor-to-ceiling windows, and a set of comfortable-looking armchairs ringed around a low coffee table in the opposite corner. The bishop was smiling broadly, a tiny, dapper dark-skinned man with a gleaming bald head. He came around his desk and extended both his hands toward Stoner.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to meet you,” said Bishop Craig, with a toothy smile.
Stoner smiled back at him. “It’s good of you to receive us on such short notice.”
They’re both spouting bullcrap, Tavalera thought. Craig motioned to the upholstered chairs grouped around the circular coffee table. The bishop asked if they wanted refreshments and Stoner said no. They sat, with Stoner and the bishop facing one another. Angelique sat opposite Tavalera.
“Now then,” said Bishop Craig, “you must tell me: are you really from the stars?”
Stoner leaned back in his chair and crossed his long legs. “I’ve been to the stars, but I’m from Earth. I’m as human as you or anyone else on this planet.” He hesitated a heartbeat. Then, “Or, I was human. Now I’m . . . something more.”
“An angel?”
Stoner chuckled lightly. “No, hardly that.”
Sister Angelique said, “A demon, then?”
With a shake of his head Stoner replied, “Not that, either.”
“What, then?” Tavalera asked.
Stoner looked from Tavalera to Angelique and then back to Bishop Craig. “I’ve been exposed to the technology of an alien race. No, don’t be alarmed. They’ve been dead for millions of years. Extinct. But their technology has survived.”
Craig’s eyes went crafty. “You can prove what you’re saying, I suppose?”
“If I have to.”
“Why have you returned to Earth?” Angelique asked.
Stoner’s face went bleak. “Well, this is my home world. Our home world, I should say.”
“Ours? There are more of you?” Craig asked.
With a nod, Stoner said, “My wife and two children.”
“Where are they?”
“With me.”
Tavalera felt his brows knit slightly. “You mean they’re aboard your spacecraft?”
Stoner appeared to think over his response for a few heartbeats; then he merely nodded.
Bishop Craig drummed his fingers on his thighs for a moment, then asked, “Why have you returned here? What do you want?”
With a smile, Stoner replied, “I want to save the human race from extinction.”
“Is that all?” The bishop laughed uneasily.
Stoner’s bearded face grew somber. “There’s a lot that I don’t yet understand, but it’s clear that the Western alliance and the nations of Islam are heading for a confrontation. And both sides are arming themselves with nuclear weapons.”
Craig said, “We scrapped the last nuclear weapons some fifty years ago.”
“But you’re building new ones. So are the Muslims. And the Chinese, I might add.”
“That can’t be!”
“Yet it is. The Western alliance is secretly building nuclear weapons at three different sites.”
“I can’t believe that,” said the bishop.
“Your New Morality movement has control of the American government, control of the news media, and a pretty tight control on the general population. People know only as much as you want them to know. You tell them what to believe and how to behave.”
“For their own good,” said Sister Angelique.
“Yes, certainly. For their own good. But do you really know what’s best for the people?”
“Better than they know themselves,” the bishop snapped.
“And what about their freedoms? Their individual rights? You can take a man like Raoul, here, and move him wherever you want to. His hopes and plans don’t matter; he’s forced to do what you want.”
Bishop Craig leaned back in his armchair and steepled his thin fingers before his face. “Dr. Stoner, you say there are things you don’t understand. I can see that that is certainly true.”
“Then enlighten me,” Stoner said, with the ghost of a smile.
“Gladly. You don’t know what this nation was like before the New Morality saved it. Godless. Sunk in sin and depravity. Thieves and money-grubbers in charge of the economy. Politicians whose only thought was to get themselves elected and then re-elected, with no concern for the needs of the people. Violence in the streets. Shootings in the schools. Blatant sexuality advertised everywhere. Children giving birth to children. Schools giving students condoms! They were all heading for collapse, bound for hell and everlasting damnation.”
Stoner said nothing. He simply folded his arms over his chest and watched Craig intently.
“Then God sent His warning. The climate began to change, alter drastically. Greenhouse warming struck like a bolt from an avenging angel. Ice caps melted away. Sea levels rose so fast that coastal cities were flooded. The American heartland, the granary of the world, became parched and dust blown with drought. Millions were driven from their homes.
“Wars erupted. India and Pakistan depopulated each other with biological weapons. Nuclear war broke out in the Middle East. China seized vast territories in Siberia. Latin America and Africa dissolved in genocides.
“In America the people cried out! They needed food, housing. They needed order. The government was paralyzed; all they could do in Washington was point fingers and cast blame.”
“So the New Morality stepped in,” Stoner said mildly.
“The New Morality did indeed step in. We did not seek power. We did not seek responsibility. But we did what we could to help. It actually started right here in Atlanta: We made the streets safe. We distributed food to the needy. We brought people back to Christ. And from there our movement spread.”
Sister Angelique added, “We seek to do good, Dr. Stoner. We are not the enemy.”
“Indeed we are not,” Bishop Craig resumed. “We brought order and stability to the nation. And beyond. Similar movements arose in Europe, Asia, Latin America. The Muslims were actually ahead of
us, establishing their religious schools, their madrassas, taking over national governments, forging a unity across the whole Islamic world.”
“At what cost?” Stoner asked. “How much blood was spilled?”
“The Muslims were steeped in violence, I admit. Still are. In America, though, there was hardly any bloodshed. The New Morality has always been a peaceful movement. We do not advocate violence.”
“But you don’t tolerate dissent.”
“Of course not! We’re doing God’s work. Those who dissent are against God, against our Lord and Savior, against goodness and truth.”
“So you get rid of them.”
“We re-educate them. Some of them, yes, frankly we have exiled some of the hopeless cases. That’s what the habitat around Saturn is filled with: malcontents and troublemakers.”
“And you’ve started freezing people, storing them in vats of liquid nitrogen.”
“Convicted criminals,” the bishop retorted. “And we only keep them frozen until they can be cured of their antisocial behaviors,” he added with a bland smile.
“How many have been revived?” Stoner asked.
The bishop started to reply, then simply shrugged.
Stoner exhaled a sigh. Then, “So, in the name of right and good you’ve taken over the government, from the White House down to neighborhood watch groups.”
“And made it a better nation,” Craig insisted. “A safer, happier, more orderly nation. A nation that obeys the will of God.”
“And you’ve spread your power and authority beyond the borders of the United States.”
“Of course. We’ve also joined with other groups, such as the Holy Disciples in Europe.”
For a long moment Stoner said nothing. At last he brought his clasped hands up to his darkly bearded chin and said, “In my reading of history, there have been many instances when a religious movement has gained control of the government’s reins of power. In each instance, human liberty has suffered. Often, the civilization collapses.”
Bishop Craig frowned at him.
“The Roman Empire adopted Christianity as its official state religion. The Christians, zealous and certain that they were doing God’s work, closed all the schools throughout the empire, except for their own. They closed down the Academy in Athens, where Plato and Aristotle had once taught.”
“Centuries earlier,” Sister Angelique pointed out.
“Nonetheless,” Stoner continued, “once the schools were closed a dark age settled inexorably over Europe. For a thousand years inquiry was frowned upon, and acceptance of authority was the norm. It wasn’t until the Renaissance that Europeans began to move forward again.”
“Ancient history,” Craig muttered.
“How many lives were blighted during those thousand years?” Stoner asked gently. “How might the human race have grown and learned and gained in understanding if Galileo had come a generation after Ptolemy, instead of a millennium?”
“Pointless speculation,” said the bishop.
Stoner insisted, “Where religious movements gain control of the government’s power, individual liberties wither. And without those liberties, there is no check on the government’s authority. Today, right here and now, your New Morality organization has the power to destroy civilization and wipe out the human race.”
CHAPTER 5
For several long moments Bishop Craig’s office was absolutely silent. Tavalera could hear his own pulse pumping in his ears.
Then Sister Angelique half-whispered, “Do you actually think we are heading toward a nuclear war?”
Stoner nodded gravely. “And you have other weapons, as well. The biological agents that depopulated the Indian subcontinent are just as deadly now as they were then.”
“What can we do about it?” she asked.
“That’s why we need to speak with Archbishop Overmire,” said Stoner. “We need to start the movement toward peace and reconciliation.”
Bishop Craig looked at Stoner with calculating eyes. “You mean to dismantle the New Morality, don’t you?”
“Not at all,” Stoner replied. “I hope to change it so that the movement can cope with the threats you face. If it can’t change without crumbling, well . . .” He left the thought unfinished.
Craig began to drum his fingers on his thighs again. “All that you’ve said hinges on your assertion that we are building nuclear weapons. As far as I know, that’s not true.”
Stoner’s wintry smile returned. “Would you like me to take you to the facilities where the weapons are being built? One of them is in New Mexico, where the original atomic bomb was constructed.”
Before the bishop could reply, Tavalera blurted, “He can take you there like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Such a facility would be heavily guarded, I imagine,” Craig countered.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Tavalera. Then, looking to Stoner, he added, “Does it?”
“Not much,” Stoner said.
Sister Angelique got to her feet. “I’m willing to believe Dr. Stoner. I think we should try to get him an audience with the Archbishop as quickly as possible.”
Craig looked uncertain momentarily. He stood up, too, and then Stoner and Tavalera did the same.
“Are you sure?” the bishop asked Angelique.
“Yes, I am, Your Worship,” she said. “With your permission, I can start making the arrangements immediately.”
Craig nodded reluctantly. Then he asked, “But what do we do about this man in the meantime?”
Stoner’s smile turned warmer. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll return when you’re ready to introduce me to the Archbishop.”
And he disappeared.
Craig gasped and sank back into his chair. Angelique stared wide-eyed at the empty air where Stoner had been a moment earlier.
Tavalera grinned and said, “I guess I’m not crazy, after all.”
CHAPTER 6
Bishop Craig was trembling visibly as he sat huddled in the armchair, muttering, “Protect me from the works of Satan. Protect me, O Lord, from the snares of the devil.”
Angelique, still on her feet, regained her self-control, took a deep breath, and turned to Tavalera. “You find this amusing?”
His grin fading, Tavalera replied, “I’m just glad that I’m not having hallucinations. He’s for real. He can do things that are beyond human.”
“Nonsense,” she snapped. “He has access to powers that we don’t understand—as yet. That’s all.”
“It’s a helluva lot,” said Tavalera.
Her eyes flared at his minor crudity, but she turned to Bishop Craig, still sitting in the armchair muttering prayers to himself.
“Your Worship, we must act. And quickly.”
Craig shook himself, as if trying to break free of a trance. Then he looked up at Angelique. “We have witnessed a great power,” he said in an awed whisper. “Either he’s been sent by God to help us, or . . . or . . .” His voice faded away.
Angelique knelt at the bishop’s feet. “Your Worship, he’s a man, just as you are. He’s neither angel nor devil. He simply has access to a technology that we don’t understand, that’s all.”
“That’s enough,” Tavalera added, his grin returning.
Angelique shot an annoyed glare at him. But she quickly recovered, rose to her feet, and said almost sweetly, “Raoul, I’ve got to speak with the bishop in private.”
Taking Tavalera by the hand, she led him to the door and the anteroom beyond it. The same young man was sitting at the desk there, intently scrolling through a long list of names on his desktop screen.
“Wait here for me here, please,” she said to Tavalera, pointing to one of the chairs lining the wall. “I’ll be back with you in a few minutes.”
Tavalera obediently sat down. The young man behind the desk glanced at him, then returned his attention to his screen. Angelique went through the door again into Bishop Craig’s office.
Are you all right, Raoul? He heard Stone
r’s voice in his mind.
Glancing at the diligent man behind the desk, who was concentrating on ignoring him, Tavalera whispered, “Yeah, I guess.”
No need to speak, Stoner’s voice said. I can hear you without your vocalizing your thoughts.
Mental telepathy? Tavalera wondered.
Not quite, said Stoner’s disembodied voice. More like a subvocalized telephone link.
I don’t understand.
I’ll explain it to you later. For now, are you all right?
Yeah, sure.
I need your help.
To do what?
For the moment, to stay close to Angelique. Are you willing to be my contact with her? And through her, the bishop, of course.
Nodding, Tavalera replied, I’m willing, but she might not be.
She’ll want to keep you in her sight, Raoul. All you have to do is tell her that I’m in contact with you and if she wants to see me again she’ll have to go through you.
You think she’ll believe that?
He could sense Stoner smiling. It’s the truth, Raoul.
You’re going to be my contact man on Earth.
And where’ll you be?
I’ve got some exploring to do. But I’ll be in contact with you at all times. I’ll see what you see, hear what you hear. All that.
Whether I like it or not, Tavalera thought.
No! Stoner replied immediately. I wouldn’t intrude on you unless you allowed me to. You have a right to privacy.
Tavalera almost laughed aloud. That’s a helluva lot more than the New Morality’s willing to give me.
Meanwhile, Sister Angelique helped Bishop Craig out of the armchair where he’d been sitting in something of a daze and back to his gleaming, imposing desk. Once settled in the high-backed swivel chair, Craig seemed to revive somewhat.
“He must be in league with Satan,” the bishop said. “To just disappear like that. It’s beyond human.”
Angelique settled herself in one of the chairs in front of the broad desk. “The technology he’s using is beyond human,” she said firmly. “But if he can learn to use it, so can we.”
Craig’s eyes widened. “Do you think . . . ?”
