by Mike Resnick
“I got a better idea,” he said.
“Yeah,” I replied. “What is it?”
“I think I’ll kill you and keep everything just the way it was.”
“You don’t scare me one bit,” I said. “You’re taking this god business a little too seriously, Brother Henry. You’re all alone in a strange land, wearing naught but a loincloth. Even Jesus had twelve disciples to do his bidding.”
“Conspicuous consumption,” he said. “I only need six disciples, and I got ’em all right here.” He reached into his loincloth and pulled out a snub-nosed revolver.
“You know, Brother Henry,” I said, “now that I come to mull on it, Valeria ain’t close to the most beautiful woman I ever seen. Her nose is too big, and her eyes are kind of crossed, and when she smiles I can see she’s missing a molar or two, and—”
“Shut up!” he screamed. “You’re talking about the woman I love!”
“Well, upon reconsideration, missing that molar makes her an exotic creature of mystery, and anyone who can look in two directions at once has got to be a definite value when you’re out hunting or maybe running for your lives from a bunch of outraged infidels, and—”
“Enough!” he said. He aimed the gun at me. “You got any last words?”
“Like I was saying, from the neck down, she’s just about perfect.”
“Stop talking about her!” he snapped. “You got any other last words?”
“Well, now that I come to think of it, I do have a question,” I said.
“Just one.”
“You got any dangerous snakes in these here parts?”
“All right,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “I done my best, but you’re just not taking this seriously. Prepare to meet the Lord.”
“Not to be argumentative,” I said as he cocked the pistol, “but weren’t you claiming that you was God?”
“He’s my brother,” said Henry. “He’s minding the store while I’m busy here.”
His finger tightened on the trigger.
I kind of scrunched my eyes up so I wouldn’t see the bullet coming. The strange thing was that I didn’t hear it nor feel it neither.
“Shit!” screamed Henry. “Get this thing off’n me!”
I opened my eyes and saw that Henry, who’d been wearing naught but a loincloth a few seconds earlier, was now wearing a wraparound anaconda what was maybe 25 feet long.
“Don’t just stare at me!” he yelled. “Help me!”
“I don’t mean no impertinence, Brother Henry,” I said, “but wasn’t you just preparing to shoot me before this here snake came to my rescue?”
“That was then!” he said kind of desperately. “This is now!”
“You’re still holding the gun,” I noted.
“He done paralyzed me with his fiendish venom! I can’t move my fingers!”
“Anacondas ain’t got no venom,” I said. “You’re thinking of rattlesnakes.”
“I’m thinking of being crushed to death!” cried Henry. “Help me!”
“Or maybe cobras,” I said. “I seem to remember that King Cobras are loaded with venom.” I stopped and scratched my head. “You know, now as I come to think on it, I don’t recollect that I ever saw a Queen Cobra. I wouldn’t know how to tell ’em apart anyway; I don’t imagine they can be much curvier.”
“I’m dying and you’re lecturing me on herpetology!”
“I ain’t so much lecturing as discussing,” I pointed out.
Suddenly the gun fell from his hand.
“Okay, I’m unarmed!” he said. “Now will you get this blasted critter off me?”
“Well,” I said, “it’d be an act of Christian charity, there ain’t no denying that.”
“Then do it!”
“On the other hand, it might well be an act of Christian suicide,” I said. “I got to think this over.”
“Don’t take more than about 20 seconds,” he groaned, “because I’m gonna be all out of air in less than half a minute!”
“What’s going on here?” said a feminine voice. For a moment I thunk maybe the snake’s wife was getting jealous, but then I saw it was Valeria, who’d come back when she heard Henry screaming.
“Get your damned pet off me!” wheezed Henry.
“I’ve warned you not to tease him!” she said harshly. Then she turned to me. “Was he abusing my snake?”
“Just the opposite, as near as I can tell,” I said.
Henry tried to agree with me, but though he moved his lips nothing came out.
“I certainly don’t want to take sides in this little dispute, ma’am,” I said, “especially since he was about to shoot me for saying how much I admired your rare and ethereal beauty, but he’s turning purple.”
“Oh, all right,” she said. “Bubbles, sit!”
The snake released Henry and coiled itself on the ground.
“Down!” she said, and suddenly he lay down belly to the ground, which was an awful lot of belly to hit the ground all at once.
“That dagnabbed snake is always sneaking up on me!” muttered Henry, trying to catch his breath.
I stepped over and picked up the gun before he got back enough strength to reach for it.
“That’s a mighty well-trained snake, Miss Valeria, ma’am,” I said.
“I’ve had him since he was a puppy,” she said.
“Well, you learn something new every day,” I said. “I didn’t know snakes was ever puppies.”
“They aren’t,” she answered. “But I don’t know what to call a baby snake.”
“How about Godless Spawn of Satan?” wheezed Henry, finally dragging himself to his feet.
“Shut up!” snapped Valeria.
“Can Priestesses say ‘Shut up’ to a god?” I asked.
“When they look like him, they can say a lot worse,” she said. “Why was he trying to kill you?”
“He was afraid I was going to horn in on the god business, and also he didn’t want me declaring my undying love for you.”
“What is it with you gods?” she said wearily. “Can’t you keep your passions, or at least your hands, to yourselves?”
“Now, Valeria, honey…” began Henry, but Bubbles starting hissing and he decided that silence was the better part of valor.
“I don’t want to put no damper on your religious beliefs, Miss Valeria, ma’am,” I said, “but someone’s got to be the one to let you know that Henry here ain’t no god.”
“That’s a fine time to tell us,” she said angrily, “after we’ve been worshipping him for fifteen years and giving him a steady supply of virgins.”
“You got that many young women around here?” I said. “I sure didn’t see ’em on the way in.”
“When we ran out of girls we gave him cows,” she answered. “He was usually so drunk he didn’t know the difference.”
“I know they didn’t jabber all night,” said Henry sullenly.
“Before I let Bubbles keep him, how do you know he’s not a god?” she asked.
“Can he bring rain?” I said. “Can he make seven passes in a row at the craps table? Can he turn water into Napoleon brandy? How many winners can he pick if the track comes up muddy?”
“Those are all godly qualifications?” she asked.
“The bringing rain one’s just a trick, but the others are all legitimate,” I said. “Hell, even minor league gods like Zeus and Jupiter can do most of them things.”
“I see,” she said, glaring at Henry. “My people have been a victim of false doctrine.”
“Well, then it’s only just and fitting that I was guided to this here lost continent to bring you the Word,” I said, “me being the Lord’s business agent, so to speak.”
“What will we do with him?” she asked, indicating Henry, who was starting to shiver even though it was shorts and sandals weather.
“You’re not going to listen to this charlatan, are you?” demanded Henry. “I am a god, goddamn it! I’m Rakovekin, Lord of the Outer
Realm, Messenger of the Almighty, Spokesman for the Elder Deities, Commander of the Legions of the Dead, Defender of…”
“You’re not going to list all 38 titles, are you?” she asked in bored tones.
“I got an idea, ma’am,” I said. “Let him rassle Bubbles two out of three falls. If he’s a god he shouldn’t have no trouble winning.”
She looked like she was considering it, and finally nodded her approval. “I see no reason why not.”
“Well I see one,” complained Henry. “How can I pin something what ain’t got no shoulders? I can’t give him no full nelson or stepover toe-hold, because he ain’t got no arms nor legs neither.”
She turned to me. “Lucifer, have you an answer?”
“Since Bubbles ain’t got no arms, he can’t put no Mongolian death grip on you,” I said to Henry. “And he ain’t likely to trip you or kick you when you’re down. As I see it, that makes it a fair fight.”
“If it’s a fair fight, you can book my bet,” said Henry. “I want to put fifty dollars on the snake.”
“I’m happy to book it,” I said, “long as you understand that I’m giving seven thousand to one on Bubbles. If you win, I’ll owe you a little less than a penny.”
“See?” he said to Valeria. “That proves it ain’t a fair fight!”
“Miss Valeria,” I said, “I put it to you: couldn’t a real god beat them odds?”
“I think you have a point, Lucifer,” she replied.
“And if he combs his hair just right maybe no one’ll notice it,” said Henry bitterly.
“Come on now, Henry,” I said, “there ain’t no cause to get riled just because you lost fair and square.”
“I ain’t lost nothing yet!” he yelled.
“That’s because you ain’t rassled Bubbles yet,” I said. “But you already lost the love and respect of the delicate frail flower what won my heart the second I seen her.”
“She’s mine!” he roared.
“She’s already guv you everything she’s got except her crown and a couple of armbands,” I said. “Ain’t that enough?”
“To hell with the snake!” he said. “I’ll rassle you for her!”
I turned to Valeria. “You gonna let him insult your snake like that, ma’am?”
She frowned. “He did insult Bubbles, didn’t he?”
“It was a slip of the tongue!” said Henry, backing away. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. I think Bubbles is the nicest, pleasantest, friendliest, most beautiful representative of all the hellborn man-eating critters I ever met!”
“That’s it!” snapped Valeria. “Bubbles?”
Bubbles kind of snapped to attention, as much as a 25-foot-long killer snake can anyway, and waited for her orders.
“He’s all yours.”
Henry didn’t waste no breath screaming or cursing. He just turned and lit out like Jesse Owens, and Bubbles took off after him like Man o’ War but without the legs and the jockey. Henry was still leading by a couple of lengths as they swung around a stand of trees and was lost to sight.
“I thank you for all your help, Lucifer,” said Valeria, “but now we are without a god.”
“I think we can fix that without no undue effort, Miss Valeria, ma’am,” I said.
“How?” she asked with a eager little tremor of excitement.
Well, let me tell you, when you’re built like Valeria and you ain’t wearing naught but a crown and some gold armbands, and a tremor sweeps over you, even a eager little one, it just naturally is going to have a positive effect on any nearby menfolk. It’s positive effect on me was that I was positive I wanted to spend the rest of my life within arm’s reach of that gorgeous body, except when answering calls of nature or playing cards with the boys once I taught ’em the intricacies of poker and figured out what a bunch of naked savages had to bet.
“Easy,” I answered. “I ran old Henry out of here, with a little help from your snake, so I figger that makes me an even greater god than he was.”
“But he wasn’t a god at all,” she said. “You proved it.”
“Then no matter what kind of god I am, I’m a greater one than he was,” I said with impeccable logic. “Now, I figger if you and me get hitched, that’ll elevate you to the status of apprentice goddess, so the people’ll be twice as happy with twice as many gods to worship, and it’ll give ’em a purpose in life, which’ll be to gather food and drink and firewood for us while we’re getting to know each other better.”
“It’s tempting,” she said with a little flutter of emotion, and let me tell you her flutters put her tremors in the shade. “But we have been fooled once already. We must be sure you are truly a god before I agree to become your consort.”
I was about to tell her that I didn’t want her to become my consort and would settle for her becoming my ladyfriend, but she looked like she had her mind made up, so I asked her what kind of godly test she had in mind for me, adding that I didn’t do no heavy lifting because I’d pulled a muscle or two tossing the moon into orbit, and also that I didn’t speak Sumarian, Aramaic, French, or no other nonsense languages.
“We must devise a proper test for your divinity,” said Valeria. She lowered her head in thought for a moment, then looked up. “I suppose if you can swim across a piranha-filled river and live through it, that would prove you were an immortal.”
“I’m allergic to water,” I said. “How about a spelling bee?”
“Or perhaps if each man were to hurl his spear at you, point-blank, and they all bounced off…”
“Ping-pong,” I suggested. “I’ll take on all comers at ping-pong.”
“Or we could cover you with marabunta.”
“What’s marabunta, ma’am?” I asked. “Something like peanut butter?”
“Army ants.”
I never knew that a beautiful naked High Priestess could be so bloodthirsty and single-minded all at the same time.
“I wish I could accommodate you, Miss Valeria, ma’am,” I said, “but you got to understand that no two gods are alike. We’re as different as baseball players and pole vaulters and shoe salesmen.”
“And what makes you a god?” she asked.
“Well,” I said after some thought, “I play a mighty mean game of tiddly winks.”
“Tiddly winks?” she repeated. “I have never heard of it.”
“Darn,” I said. “I guess that means I can’t prove my godliness to you. I suppose you’ll just have to take my word for it and move in with me. If you want to bring a couple of them lesser priestesses to act as cooks and housemaids, that’ll be okay too.”
“I really feel we must end all controversy before it begins, Lucifer,” she said.
“You’re looking at this all wrong,” I explained. “Let ’em controverse for a few years and get it out of their systems. In the long run it’ll do ’em a world of good.”
“It will?”
“Sure,” I said. “Now instead of falling asleep right after a few hours of connubial bliss, we’ll make it a law that they have to spend an hour a night discussing whether or not I’m a god. That’s probably a lot more than most husbands and wives ever spend talking to each other after they tie the knot.”
She stared at me kind of funny-like. “I can believe all gods are different. You sound nothing like Henry.”
“Well,” I said condescendingly, “you know them New Jersey gods.”
“I shall have to think about this,” she said.
“Fine,” I said. “We can talk about it right after you and me consummate our godly relationship. In fact, now that I think about it, I just remembered that I ain’t got no apartment here, so I reckon I’ll move into yours.”
She shook her head. “No, I think it best that you keep your distance until this matter is resolved.”
“But Miss Valeria, ma’am, this is one of the best ways I know to prove my godhood.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
I leaned over and whispered what I was ta
lking about into her ear, then stood back with a triumphant smile. “Now be honest,” I said as her face turned a bright red, “could any mortal man do that?”
I saw the slap coming, but I couldn’t duck it.
“In answer to your question,” she said with as much dignity as a naked High Priestess could muster on the spur of the moment, “no mortal man would ever be allowed to do that or even suggest it.”
“So that solves it and now I don’t have to prove I ain’t a mortal man?” I asked, rubbing my jaw where she’d loosened a tooth or two.
“Now you have to prove that you’re not a demon from the pits of hell,” she answered.
She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, and suddenly the temple was filled with all them men what had been busy worshipping Henry when I arrived, and I found myself facing the business ends of a bunch of spears.
“You’re going about this all wrong, Miss Valeria,” I said. “If I’m a demon I’m gonna kill all your spear-toting friends and relations here, and if I’m not they’re going to kill me and you’re going to feel just awful about having made such a mistake.”
She stared at me. “If I’m wrong I don’t believe I’ll lose a minute of sleep over it.”
“Being a compassionate god or demon, I just can’t countenance such bloodshed,” I said. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll rassle one of ’em. If I win, everyone admits I’m a god, or at least a demon what’s a hell of a good rassler, you move in with me, and they all agree to worship me.”
“And if you lose?”
“Then I’ll take your solid gold armbands as a romantic remembrance and be on my lonely and heartbroken way.”
Whilst we’d been talking, the whole population of Moo had shown up and kind of gathered around us in a big circle, and a guy who must have been seven feet tall and almost as wide stepped forward. “Let me be the one to fight him, High Priestess!” he shouted.
Pretty soon half a dozen other guys, who all looked like the first one’s bigger, stronger, nastier older brothers were begging for the chance to face me in hand-to-hand combat.
“You are all splendid examples of our race,” said Valeria. “I find it difficult to make a choice.” She turned to me. “Lucifer, I will allow you to choose your opponent.”
