"You know that the rise and fall of empires, the fates of whole nations, often hinge on the will of a single human being. One man of firm dedication can stand against an army.
"I don't know how this is going to end any more than you do. But I believe that the light that is in you and in me-in all of us -is greater than all the darkness in the universe. God is working in YOU, Spence; he has marked you for his own. And who can stand against God?"
Spence could think of no one offhand.
"Does that make you uncomfortable? To be chosen?" "Sure it does. Anyway, why me?"
"That is precisely the question you cannot ask." "I know. His ways are not our ways and all that." "Precisely."
Spence continued walking. "I'm not buying it. What difference does it make if I believe in him or not? What possible difference could it make in the outcome? You believe, and look where it's got you. You're staggering down some God-forsaken road on a death march, for heaven's sake. And for what?"
"To a believer no place is God-forsaken."
The Indian continued. "You don't fool me, Reston. This protest is the last gasp of a dying agnostic. You're running swiftly away from God-right into his arms.
"But to answer your question, I'd say it makes every difference in the world what you believe. Belief is the sense organ of faith, as your eyes are the sense organ of sight. With sight you see the world, with faith you see God. Belief has the power to shape reality."
"Imagined reality. Your personal perception of reality."
"No, reality itself, as it is-cold, hard, factual reality."
Spence's scowl deepened over his face. He was in no mood for listening to a lecture on the philosophy of reality from Professor Rajwandhi, but it appeared he had no vote. The tack Adjani chose next, however, surprised him.
"Look at that mountain peak out there."
"Which one? I see several."
"The center one with the white cap. Do you see it.
"Yes; I see it," Spence said flatly.
"Let's be scientific about it and call it the point of observation, the focal point. Now does it exist or doesn't it?" "Of course it exists."
"Are you sure? Prove it-better still, show me the focal point. Can you pick it up? Smell it? Taste it? Does it take up space or have any dimensions?"
No answer.
"No, of course not. A focal point is not a physical thing at all and yet it exists. We can prove that it exists because of the things we can do with it. We can use it to gauge distance and height. We can direct radio waves to it to accomplish any number of things. In other words, the focal point exists because it produces effects we can perceive but cannot account for in any other way.
"If you were to stand on that mountaintop right at the focal point, I could view you with a telescope. But you would feel, nothing at all while being observed. You would not in any way be able to detect the point of observation, and yet with it I could learn a great deal about you."
"Ah, but where does it go when I'm not thinking about it, or believing in it? It doesn't exist at all then."
"Precisely."
"Are you trying to tell me God is like that?"
"Not at all. I'm trying to tell you that belief shapes reality in unexpected ways. Your belief in the point of observation enables you to do things you couldn't do if you didn't believe in it. Get it?"
Spence scratched his head. His scowl was lifting, being replaced by a look of puzzlement. Adjani continued pushing home his point.
"Look at it like this: because you believe in the focal point you react to it in certain ways-it is real for you and it shapes the world as you see it. Believing in it even affects your behavior.
"If you looked through a telescope and saw a lion running toward you down the road, what would you do?"
"Climb a tree." Spence had become absorbed in Adjani's argument.
"Of course. You might do any number of things, but you would not say to yourself: 'the focal point does not exist, therefore the lion does not exist."' "Only a fool would react that way."
"Oh? Well, it might surprise you to know that is exactly how you've been reacting toward God."
"I don't see it that way."
"Explain it to me then, if you can." The remark drew no response from Spence. He glared ahead stubbornly. "Shall I explain it to you?"
"Go ahead-it's your nickel. You seem to have all the answers. "
Adjani ignored the jab and went on as if he had not heard it. How clear does it have to be for you? God is meeting you at every turn, Spence. Think about it. Back there in the camp you prayed for a little boy who died and he lived again. On Mars you Yourself should have died and yet you survived-against all odds You survived. And what is more, a creature from an alien civilization awoke from a sleep of five thousand years to tell you himself about God. And you insist you cannot see it?" Adjani threw back his head and gave a little laugh. "What must he do to get through to you? What will it take before you believe? Must these stones rise up and shout?" He waved a hand over the rough rocky path before them.
Although he posed as the antagonist in these discussions with Adjani, he actually agreed more than he admitted. Spence had reached the same conclusions the night the boy had been revived. It had affected him more deeply than he could express to another person. He had thought about very little else since that moment. He relived it constantly, still savoring the strangeness, the awful vividness of it.
Here was a reality that surpassed all previously known realities he had ever experienced. It was as if the source of all life had passed through him for one blinding instant. And in that moment he had seen himself and the world as he had never seen it before. The memory of it left him weak.
Perhaps that was why he was fighting so hard not to believe. Adjani was right-if he believed, it would change him. He was merely clinging to the last shreds of his tattered naturalistic world view. Giving it up was not easy, and not a thing done capriciously. Much of who he was, the person he knew himself to be, was wrapped up in that cold, concise, computer-generated view of the universe.
Adjani's question still rang in his ears. He turned to answer, not knowing what he would say, but feeling it in his heart. He opened his mouth to speak.
Suddenly, like a blast of hot wind which shrivels the tender leaves of grass, a wilting sensation passed through Spence. He tottered a few steps, threw down his bundle, and clutched his head. He turned and looked at Adjani, eyes wide and staring.
"Ari… Ari!" he cried and dropped unconscious to the ground.
14
… WHEN SPENCE CAME To, Gita was holding his head between his pudgy hands, leaning over him. Adjani held a tin filled with water up to his mouth. "Here, drink this. Slowly. That's right."
Spence moved to sit up. His head throbbed wildly, but other than that he felt all right. "How long was I out?" He rubbed his head and rolled it around on his shoulders as if to see if it was still in good working order.
"Not long. A couple of minutes maybe."
"It is too hot to be traveling on foot in the daytime," said Gita. He had been saying that ever since they struck out on the road without stopping that morning. "I think we should rest."
"No, we go on," replied Spence firmly. "Maybe we'll find some transportation -Gaur is just ahead, didn't you say?"
"Sunstroke is nothing to sneer at, Spencer Reston." Gita's dark complexion had taken on a distinct ruddy tint. The exertion of their trip was telling on him.
"We should rest a while anyway. Gita is right. It is getting too hot to be tramping around in the middle of the day. We can move on at dusk."