“A bird?”
“No … a tiny pink baby with little wings on its shoulders. Then it was gone and it was over.”
“Just like that?”
“I—I just don’t know. I remember that Marablis touched my arm, turning me, and I was back in that room in the church again along with the other women. I felt, well just sad, as though I had lost something very precious.”
There was little I could say. She had a distant look in her eyes, looking at something I could not see. A tear ran down her cheek and she sniffed, wiped at it and smiled.
“Sorry. I’m not being much help. I know it has to be a con of some kind. I don’t believe in day trips to Heaven. But something did happen to me. My emotions, they are real.”
“I believe you. But there are, well, drugs that can affect the emotions directly.”
“I know that. But still …” She stood and smoothed down her dress, touched a finger to the brooch. “Instead of listening to me blathering on let’s take a look at this recording.”
“You’ve done a great job. Thank you.” .
The twins had seen us in the street and had the door open as we came down the hall. I heard Sybil telling them about the experience, basically just what she had told me. But she was much more in control of herself now and beginning to get angry at being got to in some way. By the time she had finished her story I had the piece of electronic jewelry clamped into the activation module. The screen lit up with a view of the church moving closer.
The pictures were silent and so were we as we watched her meet the other two women. They talked, then turned to face Slakey when he entered. He was certainly in his Father Marablis mode, brown cassock and unctuous gestures; I was rather glad I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“Up to this point I remember everything,” Sybil said. “He is telling us about the joys to come and, see his hand, collecting a few extra checks for the pleasure of our outing. There, that part is done. Here we go.”
Slakey must have said something for they all turned and walked after him. The screen went black.
“Is the recorder broken?” Bolivar asked.
“I doubt it.” I fast-forwarded the machine and the image reappeared.
“We are back in the room,” Sybil said. “Without a record of what I saw. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I ran a quick analytical probe. “You did everything that you could. So did the recorder. It worked fine—but there just is no record. I don’t know why or how this happened. The electronics appear to have been operating but they, well, just didn’t record anything.” I scowled at the machine. “And I do not believe in miracles.”
“No one’s thinking about miracles,” James said. “We’re thinking technology. Whatever field of force or electronic pervasion created the Heaven trip, well, could it have interfered with the recording?”
“Pretty obviously,” I said.
“1 have an idea,” Bolivar said. “This was a good try—but it just did not work out. Next step. We need a long look around that place. You will remember that there was some kind of machinery that was blown up in the first church. I would like to see if there are any of the same kind of gadgets here …”
“No,” I said.
“Why not?”
“I don’t mean no let’s not do it. I mean no you don’t do it. Because I do this particular job.” I raised my hand to quiet their protests. “I say that not because I am older and wiser, which is true, but because I have had much more experience at this sort of thing. Bolivar, I wouldn’t think of making high-profit high-risk investments if you were there to do it for me. After watching that last karate tournament I wouldn’t dare face up to your brother in an even fight. It has always been the age of the specialist. Do any of you believe that you can do an unseen breaking and entering and searching job better than I can?” Silence was my only answer. “Thank you,” I said—with some warmth. “But you will all have to help. This is the plan.”
We had that night and part of the next day to make our preparations. It was going to be a joint effort. The church service for the Seekers of the Way was due to begin at noon. We met for a final rehearsal an hour earlier.
“You first, Sybil,” I said.
“I go in with the others. Talk, act naturally and keep my eyes open. If everything goes as it usually does, then I have only one thing to do. I know that the outer door is always locked before the service begins. So when Father Marablis begins his sermon, I squeeze this.” She held up a tiny wafer of plastic.
“That is a one-shot communicator,” I said. “The battery shorts through the chip, which sends a millisecond-long signal before it burns out. It is undetectable both before and after use. I’ll be waiting nearby. As soon as I get the signal I go in through the front door.” I held up a modified lockpick. “Sybil took a close look at the lock—which is a make called Bulldog-Bowser. I know it well and it is very easy to open. James, you’re next.”
“I’ll be driving the delivery van, a rental with new identification numbers and fake signs. When Dad goes through the door I drive around and park in front of the church. Bolivar.”
“I’m inside the van with passive tracking equipment, magnetometer and heat detectors. I should be able to follow people moving inside. I also have a warning alarm receiver.”
I nodded. “Which I can activate in one of four ways in case of emergency. Bite hard on my back tooth, tap one toe quickly two times or pull off the top button of my shirt.”
“That’s only three,” Sybil said.
“The fourth I have no control over. It will be activated if—my heart stops. Should the alarm go off, the boys break their way in with all guns firing. Any remarks or questions?”
“Stun grenades and blackout gas as well as the guns,” James said.
That was it. We had some tall and nonalcoholic drinks and discussed the Vulkann weather. After a time Sybil looked at her watch, stood and went out. We followed.
I waited out of sight around the corner, apparently looking at the gaudy items in a tourist shop window while I patted, one by one, the various lumps in my clothes; weapons, detectors, tools, alarms, that sort of thing. I had no idea of what I would find inside the church so I had visited a number of electronic stores and stacked up on everything I could or might possibly need.
The phone taped behind my ear clicked sharply. I turned about, strolled around the corner and up the two steps to the church door. My left hand on the knob concealed the rapid twisting of the lockpick with my right. It was as fast as turning a key; I do have some experience at this sort of thing. The door opened and I went through without breaking pace. Closed and relocked it behind me.
I was in a dimly lit vestibule with draperies covering the far side. I parted them a hairsbreadth and looked through. Father Slakey-Marablis was behind a high lectern and in full throat, unctuous vapidities washed over the attentive audience below.
… doubt shall be taken from you and will be replaced by reassurance. It is written in the Book of Books that the path to salvation leads through the Land of Good Deeds. Good deeds and love must be your guiding stars, the beckoning fingers of the hereafter. A hereafter that lies ahead of you, restful and satisfying, calm and filled with the effervescence that passeth all understanding.”
Very good. Not really very good, but really very bad. But good for me. For as long as he burbled on I could penetrate his holy of holies. The staircase was behind the door on the left, as Sybil had told me. She had no idea where it led; that was for me to find out. I went through and closed the door silently behind me, bit down gently on the microlight I held between my teeth. Dusty stairs wound upwards. I climbed them, walking with my feet close to the wall to prevent them from creaking. There was another door at the head of the stairs that opened into a large room, dimly illuminated by a single window.
I was over the main hall and could hear the rumble of the sermon dimly through the floor. I walked silently between the boxes and stacked chairs to a door on the fa
r wall. This was to the rear of the building and should be over the mysterious antechamber that might very well be the entrance to Heaven. This was also roughly the same location as that of the electronic equipment that had been destroyed in the Temple of Eternal Truth. As I opened the door the rumble of the voice on the floor below stopped.
So did I. One foot still raised. Then I relaxed and stepped forward when the organ music began and the women began to sing. A spiral stairway led down. I took it, slowly and silently. Stopped before what I hoped was the last door.
It was stuffy and warm and I was beginning to sweat. From the temperature alone. My pulse rate was normal and my morale high. No more waiting—a time for doing. I turned the light off and pocketed it, then opened the door into darkness and stepped through.
Bright lights came oh. Slakey was standing just before me. Smiling.
I had only the briefest of glimpses because at the instant that the lights flared I had dived to one side. Biting down hard with my back teeth.
At least I tried to bite. But as fast as I had been, something else was much faster. I could see and hear—but that was all. My body was flaccid, my eyes open and staring. At the greasy floor because I had landed heavily facedown. My jaw dropped open; I drooled. I felt the panic rising as I realized I could do nothing, could not control a single muscle. But at least I was breathing and my heart was still beating, pounding loud and strong in my ears. A shoe tip appeared in front of my eyes and my vision swirled, settled, staring up at the bright light. Slakey must have rolled me over; I could not feel a thing. His face blotted out the light.
“You can see me, can’t you? And hear me as well? My neural neutralizer allows that. I know all about you Jim diGriz. I know everything for I am all-powerful. I know how you invaded this holy place of worship. I know who you came with.”
His hands reached down, my head turned. Sybil was lying next to me, sprawled and unmoving. My vision swirled again and Slakey was straightening up. Dressed in full regalia, I saw now. Bright robes with strange symbols covering them, with a high collar, a crown of some kind on his head. He raised his arms and shook his fists on high in a triumphant gesture. Both fists. The right one worked very well indeed and there was no sign of any scar on either wrist when his loose sleeves fell back.
“You are a pitiful mortal and shall be destroyed. You seek enlightenment but you shall not have it. You and this female creature you sent to spy. You wish to see Heaven—then you will go to Heaven. You shall, you shall!”
There was motion, my vision rocked. Stopped. My head was raised and I realized that he had dumped me across Sybil’s unresistant body.
“Go, both of you, go. Go to Heaven.”
He laughed, choked, laughed even louder.
“Well—not quite Heaven as you shall discover.”
Blackouts
CHAPTER 5
SOMETHING HAPPENED.
I couldn’t remember it, could not begin to describe it. I did not want to think about it. I had far more important things on my mind. Like the fact that I was still paralyzed and lying facedown in red grit of some kind. I couldn’t feel it but I could smell it. A rotten, sulfury smell.
Smell! Yes, it certainly was there, and growing stronger and stronger. Which meant something important. After I had been zapped I couldn’t smeH or feel anything: I could now. Which must mean that the paralysis must be wearing off, because I was vaguely aware of a scratchy pressure on my cheek. I concentrated, struggled hard, harder—then felt my fingertips move ever so slightly.
Recovery did not end quickly, not the way the onset of the paralysis had, but slowly and soon very painfully. Waves of red agony that ran through my reviving body that threatened to block my vision. My eyes were watering, tears ran down my cheeks as I writhed in agony. Slowly, very slowly it died away and I managed to roll over.
Blinking away the tears to stare up at a gray rock ceiling above. There was a low moan and with a great deal of effort I turned my head to see that Sybil was lying on the ground next to me. Her eyes were closed and her body twisted with pain as she moaned again. I knew what she was experiencing. Slowly and exhaustingly, with a great deal of grunting and gasping, I crawled to her, took her hand.
“The pain,” I managed to say, “it goes away.” I.
“Jim …” Whispered so quietly I could barely hear it.
“None other. You’re going to be all right.”
This was a pretty pathetic reassurance but was about all that I could think of at the moment. Where were we? What had happened? If this was Heaven it was pretty different from the place that she had described. Sharp volcanic gravel instead of grass; rock instead of sky. Where was the light coming from? And what was the last thing that Slakey had said? Something about not quite being Heaven.
With some effort I managed to sit up and saw the opening in the rock wall: we were in a cleft or a cave of some sort. And beyond the opening was a red sky.
Red? There was a distant deep rumble and I felt the ground beneath me tremble; a cloud of dark smoke roiled across the sky. Clutching to the rock wall I managed to drag myself to my feet and stumble over to Sybil. I helped her sit up with her back to the wall.
She tried to speak, starting coughing instead. Finally squeezed out the words. “Slakey—he was one step ahead of us all the time.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was playing with us, and must have known that you were in the building. He cut his sermon short, made some kind of excuse about an unexpected meeting, turned the organ on instead, along with a recording of everyone singing. Asked us all to leave. Everyone except me. He took me aside, said that he had something most important to tell me. I was curious of course, besides the fact that I couldn’t think of anything else to do except do as he had asked. Then, as soon as the others were gone, he pointed something at me. I had only the quickest look at something like a silver spiderweb, before I fell down. It was horrible! I couldn’t move a muscle, not even my eyes. I was aware of him dragging me into that back room in the darkness—and the worst part was that there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I couldn’t move, do anything at all, couldn’t warn you that was the worst part. Then the lights were on, and you were there, falling. I remember him talking to you. After that—nothing.
“That’s about all that I can remember—until I opened my eyes here.”
I patted my side pocket, felt the lump of the communicator, felt a slight touch of hope at the same time. I put it to my ear, turned it on. Nothing. The same went for every other device on my person. All dead. Batteries and power packs drained. I couldn’t even open the blade on my Schweitzy Army Knife; it seemed to be welded into a lump. I looked at the small pile of metallic debris and felt the urge to kick it across the cave. I gave in to the urge and did just that. It clattered nicely.
“Just junk now. All dead. Nothing works.” I turned and stumbled towards the light.
“Jim, don’t leave …”
“I’m not going far. I just want to look out, satisfy my curiosity, find out where we are.”
Leaning one hand against the rock so I wouldn’t trip, I took step after shuffling step until I was at the entrance and staring out. I felt my jaw fall open with shock as I dropped to my knees. For long moments I could only stare. With an effort I turned away, managed to stand again and went back to Sybil. She was sitting up now and very much more in control.
“What’s out there, Jim?”
“Certainly not Heaven. The sky is red, not blue, no white clouds and certainly no grass. A geologically unstable area with an active volcano nearby. Plenty of smoke, but at least no lava. And there is a big and swollen sun like no sun—or star—I have ever seen before. It is light red in hue, not white or blue, which explains the russet coloring of the landscape.”
“Where are we?”
“Well—” I groped for something intelligent to say. “Well we know now that we’re not on Vulkann,” was the best I could come up with. “And …”
She noticed
my hesitation. “And?”
“I just had a glimpse.”
“Some glimpse! You should see your face—you’ve gone all gray.”
I tried to laugh at this, but it came out as a pathetic gurgle. “Yes, I saw someone—or something. For just the shortest instant I could see sort of a figure, going away, fast. Biped, erect.” My voice ran down and she looked very concerned. “Sorry. I’m just being stupid. It really moved too fast for me to see any details. But I think, no I’m sure, that it had a tail. And … it was bright red.”
There was a long silence before she spoke.
“You’re right. We’re certainly not in Heaven. How is your theology?”
“Not too good—but good enough to know that I should not be thinking what I am thinking. Before you arrived I did a little theological digging in the net about the Heaven concept and all the afterworlds and afterlife, to find out more facts, to get some insight as to what it was all about. I’m afraid that my early religious education was more than neglected. Here is how it goes. There are as many concepts of Heaven as there are dif ferent religions. What I did was outline the Heaven as seen by the attendees at the Temple of Eternal Truth and search for comparisons. I found a really interesting assortment of religions with a great variety of names. I narrowed these down to the ones that featured a dichotomy of Heaven and Hell, which are places that are occupied after you die. There is an object called a soul, which you can’t see or find or anything like that. It comes from somewhere unspecified. The description was pretty vague at this point. This soul, in some undescribed manner, is supposed to be you. Or the essence of you. Don’t look at me like that I’m not making it up! Anyway, this soul wants to end up in Heaven. There is a mention also of a sort of halfway house called Purgatory. And, I’m sure that you have heard of it, a direct opposite kind of place called Hell.”
The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to Hell Page 5