Night of Light

O’Grady was frank about his extreme nervousness. “I feel lost, not only from Earth but from myself. I seem to be breaking into many little pieces. I feel tiny, very tiny; everything seems so big.”

“Hang on,” Carmody said. He did not want to talk, but he could not ignore the poor young fellow.”Many people feel just as you do, about half the passengers in this ship, I’d bet. You want a drink? There’s still time before take off.”

O’Grady shook his head. “No. I don’t want to depend upon a crutch.”

“Crutch, hell!” Carmody said. “Don’t be ridiculous, son. If you need it, you need it. This’ll soon be over; your feet’ll be on solid earth again and the blue skies, just like Earth’s, will be over you. Stewardess!”

“You must think I’m an awful baby,” O’Grady said.

“Yes, I do,” Carmody replied. He chuckled as the young priest looked disconcerted. “But I don’t think you’re a coward. If you’d refused to go on after getting here, you would be. But you’re not. So, you’ll grow up.”

O’Grady was silent for a while, chewing the cud of Carmody’s remarks. He said, “By the way, I was so nervous I forgot to inquire your name, Father.”

Carmody told him.

O’Grady’s eyes widened. “You’re not the Father Carmody who’s the... the father of. . .”

“Say it.”

“Of the false god Yess of Kareen?”

Carmody nodded.

“They say you’re going on a mission to Kareen!” O’Grady burst out. “They say you’re going to denounce Yess and expose Boontism as false!”

“Who’s they?” Carmody said softly. “And keep your voice down.”

“Oh, everybody knows,” O’Grady said, waving his hand to indicate, apparently, the entire universe.

“The Vatican will be pleased to know how well their deepest secrets are kept,” Carmody said.”Well, for your information, I am not going to Kareen to denounce Yess.”

O’Grady seized Carmody’s arm and said, “You’re not going to renounce our faith for Boontism?”

Carmody pulled his arm away. “Is that another rumor?” he said coldly. “No. I’ll admit there are some unsettling aspects about Boontism. But my faith is unshaken. Confused, perhaps, and questioning, but unshaken. And you may tell everybody that, also.”

“We’re having much trouble on Springboard,” O’Grady said. “The number of our flock lost to Boontism is alarming. I’m not at liberty to tell even you how high the figure is, but I can say that it’s alarming.”

“You said it twice,” Carmody replied.

“Father, perhaps you could stay long enough on Springboard to preach a while. We need a man such as you, a man who’s been to Kareen and who can expose their so-called miracles and their so-called god as lies.”

“I haven’t time to stay,” Carmody replied. “Moreover, I’d be a big disappointment to you. The so-called miracles are real, and whether or not Yess is a true savior of his planet is a question even the Holy Father himself does not care to answer. Not yet.”

Carmody hitched himself forward, stared at the screen without seeing the figures upon it, and said, “I warn you that you had best keep quiet about meeting or about our conversation. This mission is supposed to be secret. Only myself and certain powers of the Church presumably know about it, although I can see that the grapevine has been busy again. It’s the only thing in the universe faster than the speed of light. But if you breathe one word about this, you’ll get an exceedingly severe reprimand and a check in your career that’ll set you back twenty years. So keep your mouth shut!”

O’Grady blinked, and his face became both red and hurt. To Carmody’s relief, the takoff warning buzzed, and the captain began his pitch. The rest of the way to Springboard, O’Grady was too concerned with controlling his fear to talk.

When the White Mule had landed, Carmody decided to leave it for a while. He needed to stretch his legs, to look again at a place with which he had once more been familiar. It would also be the last “normal” planet he would see for some time.

The port had changed much in ten years, as had the city beyond it. The white Brobdingnagian cones fashioned by the almost extinct beavites—warm-blooded animals which emulated the termites of Earth in eating wood and constructing buildings of cementoid excrement—were still numerous. The first colonists had killed the beavites and moved into the ready-made skyscrapers. Then houses made of logs or artificial foamstone had filled in the places between the cones. But the original human constructions were all gone now, replaced by large structures of stone and plastic beams.

There were many more ships in the landing circles than when he had last been here. Carmody thanked God that he had been privileged to see the planets when they were relatively untouched by human beings. Not that there weren’t many more to be discovered and explored yet. But his ways lately had been confined to much-trodden paths.

He walked around the buildings of the port for a half-hour, then went back to his terminus for the decontamination process. A large crowd in the main lobby barred his path. For a moment, he could not determine what was causing the angry shouts, red faces, threatening fists. Then he saw that a group, some of whom carried signs: Christian Protective Society, had surrounded a dozen men and women. These, aside from their defensive attitudes, seemed no different in appearance than their persecutors.

It was only when he managed to push through the crowd that he got close enough to see the broad gold rings on the index fingers of the besieged group. The rings were incised with a circle beneath which were two crossed phallic-looking spears. He had seen several of these on Wildenwooly and knew then that the attacked people were converts to Boontism. They were gathered by the customs desk and doing their best to ignore the taunts and insults howled at them. Facing the ranks of the Christian Protective Society was a beefy, thick-browed, big-nosed priest. Carmody recognized him at once, although he had not seen him in twelve years. He was Father Christopher Bakeling, and he had entered the priesthood and the Order of St. Jairus the same year as Carmody.

Carmody made his way toward him, the crowd dividing at sight of the clerical garments. Carmody placed himself between the giant priest and the Boontists.

“Father Bakeling, what’s going on?”

Bakeling’s eyes widened.

“John Carmody! What are you doing here?”

“Not making trouble, I can tell you that! What’s your beef with those people?”

“Beef!” the giant priest shouted. “Beef! Carmody, I know you well! You’re here to make trouble, sure as ‘Needlenose’ is your nickname!”

He waved his arms and sputtered for a moment, then succeeded in gaining self- control. He pointed at a tall handsome man standing at the admission desk.

“See him! That’s Father Gideon! He became a worshiper of the foul idol Boonta, and now he’s taking three of his own parish with him, to Hell! And what’s more, two of my own flock!”

A woman in the crowd yelled, “Gideon’s an anti-Christ, that’s what he is, an anti- Christ! And him my own confessor! He ought to be put in jail and locked up where he can’t go spilling all his secrets.”

“He ought to be stoned!” Bakeling cried.”Stoned! Or hung in a field, like Judas! He’s betrayed his own sweet Lord for a devil, and he’s lured...”

“Shut up, Bakeling,” Carmody said harshly. “You’re making a bad situation worse by your big mouth and public antics! I’d think you’d want to keep this quiet. This kind of advertisement for them, and for us, is best avoided.”

Bakeling, his fists clenched, thrust himself against Carmody and forced the little priest back. “You taking their side? I know you, Carmody! You aren’t free of the Boontist taint, yourself! I’ve even heard that you fornicated with the priestess of Boonta or did some- thing equally wicked, and that the son of Boonta is also your son! I didn’t believe it; no man of the cloth could be so evil, not even a freak like you! But now I’m not so sure!”