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“Son of Boonta,” Tand said, “what shall we do now?”
Yess turned and walked away. Carmody followed him and said, “Son, what can we do? What can I do?”
Yess stopped and faced him. “Perhaps you and your Church have won this battle, just as Algul has won it. We are outnumbered, and we ca
“How do you know they outnumber us?” Carmody asked.
“Look down there,” Yess directed.
Carmody leaned over the rampart to examine the street. He gasped, for he saw thousands of men and women, and even a few children. As he watched, he heard them break into song.
“Where are my worshipers?” Yess said.
“Don’t give up hope,” Carmody replied. He took a small metal case from his beltbag, pushed a button and began to speak. There was no response. At first; then a voice came from the transceiver. Carmody looked up. The sun was shining on a huge metal hemi- sphere slowly descending toward the spaceport some twenty kilometers away.
“The Argus,” he said, “a Federation astrophysical research ship. It’s been in orbit while the crew and its scientists Slept. Now, they’ve come back to investigate the aftermath of the Night. They’ll answer our call for help, I’m sure. We’ll have a way of escape from this roof.”
The vessel hovered, then moved toward the Temple. A minute later, its immense flat belly was half a kilometer above the rooftop. A port opened, and a gravsled came through. Within minutes, Yess, Carmody, Tand, and the priests and priestesses were aboard the Argus.
An hour later, the ship landed near the beach on the western shore of the continent.
John Carmody said good-bye to Yess just before he and his disciples left the ship.
“I will take up the struggle here,” Yess said. “This place is far enough from Algul to give me time to organize before he finds out where I am and sends his killers.”
“I’d stay with you,” the priest replied. “But I must report to my superiors in Rome, and then I must go where they send me.”
Yess smiled. “Ah, and what will your report say?”
“Only the truth. Rather, what I heard and saw, which is only a small facet of the truth. But I must tell you this. I am going to give my honest opinion, which is that Boontism is not all it claims to be. It is not the super religion which will displace all others. It will not displace my Church or any firm Christian faith. It may lure many converts, but Boontism is not the true, the universal faith.”
“Why do you say that?” Yess asked, still smiling.
“Would a true god be defeated by the forces of evil? Or, would a ‘good’ god commit what is, to me at least, such an evil act as your commandment that all go through the Night?”
“I am the Son of the Creatrix,” Yess replied, “as Christ was the Son of the Creator. Yet, I am no more omnipotent or omniscient than Christ was in His fleshly incarnation. Nor am I perfect or absolutely ‘good.’ Remember that it was your own Christ who reproached a man for calling Him good. He said that He was not good; only God was good.
“I am not the Mother Boonta. But I am Her right-hand son, and the right hand is the favored hand. I believe that I am destined to win—for a long while anyway. I will win, not only here but on all other worlds. Mother has permitted this seeming victory by Algul for reasons of Her own. I will find out in due time.
“Of course, She may be truly indifferent to the outcome, in which case it is entirely up to me. If so, I am confident. Do not think that, because Kareenan civilization has been wrecked and evil has gained the field, that Boontism will be out of the galactic picture for a long time to come. Surprising things may come of this and far more swiftly than you could dream. Your own history tells of many nations that were wrecked, utterly prostrate; yet, within a few years, they recovered and swept over their conquerors.”
He indicated Carmody’s beltbag and said, “You will hear the last chapter of the Book?”
“On the way back to Earth.”
“I do not know why I am not to read it now. But I will find out in good time. Boonta smile upon you, Father. May we meet again under happier conditions. I love you.”
He embraced Carmody and wept. Carmody felt his own tears start. He returned his son’s kiss and said, “God be with you.”
Yess walked out of the port. A bird, a tiny yellow long-beaked creature with black circled around its eyes, swooped by him and uttered seven long notes. Yess made the circular sign at it, but he did not turn around to look again at Carmody. The port swung shut. The priest hurried to his seat to strap himself in, since the takeoff alarm was sounding.
He dropped the spool into the hole by the seat, inserted the earplug, and sat back to listen.
An hour later, the spool was done. With shaking hands, Carmody lit another cigarette.
In exact detail, sometimes naming names and even telling the precise minute, Yess had predicted what would happen. It was all there: the first invasion by the Algulists, their defeat, the second invasion and the unprecedented birth of Algul, Abog’s assassina- tion of Rilg, the appearance of the Argus (correctly named by Yess and the time of its arrival specified), and the flight in it to the western shore.
Then, using apocalyptic and colorful images, Yess told of the rise of the Boontists from the ashes of the Night and their triumphs on other planets of the universe. Everywhere, temples to Boonta would arise, and temples of other gods would crumble.
The final sentence was: “Hear Boonta. The left hand ca
What did that mean? That Algul would lose to Yess? Or Yess to Algul? Or— horrifying thought—that the two would join forces and carry all before them?
Carmody replaced the spool in his beltbag. For a moment, he considered destroying it. He shook his head: he would hand the spool over to his superiors. After that, it was up to them to publish it or to keep it secret.
But if they did suppress the Book, they would be admitting that they had reason to fear its contents. If they feared, would it be because, consciously or not, they believed that it might contain the Truth?
He prayed that they would not fear.
After many hours, he fell into an uneasy sleep. A voice awoke him. He started up, thinking for a second that the voice was Mrs. Fratt’s. It had faded away during the latter part of the Night. Was it coming back now to torment him? Or was the Goddess speaking to him through Mrs. Fratt, working on his guilt to wear him down?
No. It was his own voice that had been muttering as he came up from the depths.
“What will arise with the waking dreamers? A thing of awesome good, or of awesome evil?”
It was then that a thought that must have been tu
How could he have seen what he had seen and not believe in the all-power of Boonta? How could he believe that it was only coincidence that he was the first alien Father of the Kareenan god Yess, of Yess who said that Carmody had opened a new path for the worshipers of the Great Mother and that that path was the entire universe? How could he believe that it was only chance that the prophetic Book written by Her son had come into his hands and that he was the instrument to deliver it to the world? Why had he been chosen to witness all this?
That curious happening at Johns Hopkins which had converted him to the faith of the true Church—had it been inspired and directed by Boonta, so that he might establish himself firmly as a priest in the Church? His belief, which he had thought so strong all these years—had it been sent to him, not by God the Father, but by Boonta the Mother so that he, Carmody, would eventually play Judas?