The couch was no longer comfortable. It washard, and narrow. The lights had been dimmed.He ached in every bone, in every muscle. He liftedone arm, and the effort tired him, sent him backinto sleep. When next he awoke he lay quietly,forced his eyes open. He was in a stone-lined room,and the room was windowless. The light camefrom one fixture, dimly, the fixture sunken intothe rock of the ceiling. He heard someone breathing and, with a great effort, turned his head.
He lay on a narrow ledge, the stone cushionedonly by a rough homespun blanket. An old man inthe tunic and skirt which was Dorchlunt's costume lay on another ledge across the small room.
"Ah, young man, you are awake?"
"I think so," Pat said.
"Just in time. They will feed us soon."
Food was the last thing on Pat's mind. He struggled and finally was able to push himself into asitting position, feet on the stone floor. "What isthis place?"
"The waiting place," the old man said. He, too,sat up, ran his fingers through his graying hair. Helooked at Pat with a little smile. "You are tooyoung to be sent to Zede."
"Zede?"
"I am not complaining, mind you," the old mansaid, "but there are laws. One must work andproduce the required number of years before earning the reward."
"So you are here, in the waiting place, havingearned your reward?" Pat asked.
"Yes." The old man mused. "Well, perhaps you did some great unusual service which merits early reward. Is that true?"
"Yes, it is true," Pat said. He was feeling a bitbetter. He was no longer happy, however, and hefelt no friendliness at all toward the man who hadinjected him with an illegal mind-dominance drug.It was no consolation to him to know that he was not the first man to have been fooled and betrayedby a woman. And yet there was something insidehim which could not accept Corinne as evil, asbeing a willing participant in whatever the hell it was that was going on on a planet where the population was beautiful, healthy, and living in primitive conditions next door to a "temple" where somewell-shielded power source produced electricity. Perhaps it was hopelessly romantic of him, he wasthinking, but he chose to cast Corinne in the roleof victim, too. There could have been no faking thesincerity of that kiss there in the throne room, and even as she was drugging him again, she'd beenkissing him with a fierce possessiveness which said to him, love, love.
"So perhaps we will go to Zede together," theold man said.
"You're looking forward to it, then?" Pat asked.
The old man looked at him strangely. "To beforever alive on the golden fields of Zede? To haveall of one's desires, and be united with all thosewho have gone before us? Why do we work? Whydo we observe the laws?"
"To live forever amid the splendors of the heavenly fields of Zede," Pat said, and the old mannodded.
"My friend," Pat said, "I will make a confessionto you, since we are going to travel to Zede together. My service was in the field of the mind."He didn't know exactly how far to go with the lie."I worked with the priests to delve into the depthsof the mind. Do you understand?"
The old man was looking at him with interest."How fortunate you are," he said. "And did youpartake of the joy magic?"
Pat nodded. "There is one complication," he said."Having experienced such joy, the mind is dulled,and the memory is blunted."
"Yes, yes, I have seen those who have experienced the joy magic."
"Since I am going to Zede," Pat said, "I wouldhave my mind clear, my memories intact, lest Icommit some sin of omission. Can you help me?"
"I will try."
"Tell me of the sacred books."
"Alas," the old man said. "I was not chosen tobe a scholar. I know little of the sacred books of Fonforster."
"If you will tell me the little you know I will begrateful," Pat said.
"Well, then, when we came from theforfarvelts,fleeing the fury of the Beast, and the wings failed, there was left to us only the Fonforster. Even thenthe sacred books were ancient, printed upon paper, bound with leather to last the ages, unlike the wisdom which was lost with the angel wings. Theyare with us still, the ancient and sacred books ofFonforster, our sacred guide to living a life of meaning, and the wise ones, who interpret, who areentrusted with keeping the lights of Fonforster glowing, feed their souls upon the sacred writings andinform us, the people."
"Everyone goes to Zede?" Pat asked, just tryingto prime the old man to keep talking.
"In his own time. You see, all the gods promise it.Even if it is not, as I have been told, spelled out inthe sacred books, it was revealed, in the ancientdays, to the priests. When the time is come oneenters the place of waiting, and is given time topurify his soul in thought before undertaking the journey. I am told that it is a beautiful sleep, withsecret-revealing dreams, and that after a little sleepwe awake with the gods and those who have gonebefore. There food grows under the soft, sweetrains, and the gods themselves harvest and distribute it and are one with us. There we will walk hand in hand with the great Jove, and noble Osiris,and the great Jesus."
"My friend, my mind is truly in a muddle. Iseem to be unable to remember the names of thegods."
The old man laughed. "You are not alone, brother.Only the wisest can remember all of them, forthere are hundreds, thousands, including those who,coming first to this place of redemption and cleansing labor, become gods."
"I know Jesus," Pat said.
"Yes, a god among gods," the old man said. Hesmiled. "Although I am now enlightened, therewas a time in my youth when I fear that I camealmost to agree with the heretics, who—" Hepaused, and looked around nervously.
"Yes?" Pat asked.
The old man crossed himself and then performedseveral more movements of sacred import. "They,the heretics, said that Jesus and his father werethe One God."
After a long pause, Pat asked, "How is the journey to Zede accomplished, friend?"
"On the invisible and all-powerful wings of theangels."
"As we are?"
"No, no. We have no need for this gross body. We are, in eternity, not creatures of the flesh, butof the spirit."
"Ah," Pat said. "A little sleep, and then thesoul is winged off to Zede on the wings of angels?"
The old man nodded. "And thus," he said, "isthe sacred number preserved."
"The sacred number?"
"The number of the people. There can never bemore than twoscore past five thousand."
Pat felt a chill. Another question was answered.There was no evidence of an expanding populationon Dorchlunt. His overflight had shown the areaaround the temple to be the only area of habitation on the planet. To keep the population stable must require rigid birth control, and the "sendingto Zede" of older people. Looking back, he realizedthat all of the men he'd seen seemed to be of an age between late teens and no more than forty,with the single exception of the Elder, AdrianKleeper.
"The ancestor worlds," Pat asked, when he hadrecovered from the chilling shock of realization."Is there a name for them?"
"The sacred names," the old man breathed, and,in a sing song, began to chant off the names of a half-dozen Zedeian planets. Of the six he named,five had been destroyed in the Zedeian war by theUP planet reducers.
The old man clasped his hands as if in prayer,looked upward. "And the father world, the worldof Fonforster, from whence came the sacred andancient books, the treasure of the world, the treasure of Zede, the sacred writings and the god listsand the stories of their triumphs and acts."
Pat had more questions ready. He was forestalledby a sound of the door opening. A priest stoodthere, smiling at the old man. "Father," the priestsaid, "you may come with me."
A smile lit the old man's face. "It is time, then?"
"It is time," the priest said.
"My friend," the old man said, coming to Pat'scot to take his hand, "my journey begins. I'm sorry you're not going with me. Since your memory hasbeen blunted, I'm sure the good priests will refresh it, so that you may prepare for your ownjourney."