“Let us take an extreme case. According to the Bible, accepted by Jews, Christians and even Mohammedans, though to a lesser degree, God created man in his own image. This is obviously nonsense to a modern, educated man. Man’s body is suited to his environment, the Earth. And God’s? Does God have a penis? If so, why? What does he do with it? Does he have an anal passage? Does he have a navel? If so, why? Does he have teeth? If so, what does he bite with them? Does he have the sense organs, eyes, ears, nose? Why? An omniscient being would not need to utilize the sense organs necessary on the surface of Earth.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Don said.
“Not even some of the basic tenets hold up too well. Take the story of the Ten Commandments. Supposedly, Moses went up Mt. Sinai and there confronted God. By the way, there is a bit of humor here. Moses requested to see God’s face, but was informed it was much too holy for him to see. However, God allowed him to glimpse his “nether parts” as it is worded. Why the buttocks of the Supreme Being should be any less holy than His face, is difficult to understand. At any rate, the Ten Commandments were engraved upon a stone and Moses carried them down to the people. By the way, what language were they written in? The Hebrews had no written language at that time. Perhaps in hieroglyphics? The Egyptian picture writing of the time was not exactly conducive to projecting such ideas as the Ten Commandments. I suggest that you reread them, one of these days. They are not all that inspiring to a modern man. Most of them deal with the fact that you should worship Jehovah and none other. He presents himself as somewhat vain.”
“For instance?” Don said. As a matter of fact, when he had been a student when matters religious would come up, he would often say, “I’m an agnostic but I believe in the Ten Commandments.”
“For instance, Honor thy father and thy mother,” the other said somewhat cynically. “But suppose that they are not deserving of honor? Suppose one is a habitual drunkard who beats you and the other a syphilitic prostitute who brought you into the world blind as a result of her disease?”
The Grand Presbyter went on. “Or, Thou shall not kill. Including Kradens? Down through history man has killed, including, and possibly especially, in religious wars.
“And just how up-to-date are such commandments as, Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s ass ?” There was a very slight leer on the religious leader’s face. “Unless, of course, the commandment was referring to homosexuality.”
Don stared at him. He got out, “Pardon me, Your Supreme Holiness, but I’ll be darned if you sound very devout.”
The other put down his cigar and took up his glass of port. He said wryly, “My son, it has been said that the more one knows of one’s religion, the less one believes. However, I have not been speaking of my religion but of the old and antiquated ones. Our religion fits modern conditions. We do not envision an improbably man-like God who comes down to Earth and strolls about punishing those who do not worship him wholeheartedly, unthinkingly. We believe in evolution, not creation, though possibly we acceed to the fact that the Almighty Ultimate directed evolution. We are strong on the acceptable teachings of the old religions, such as the Golden Rule, but we scorn the anachronistic.”
Demming and Rostoff were returning from the terrace.
The Grand Presbyter said, “Think about it. I am of the belief that your taking Holy Orders would do our common, hmmm, interest much good.”
“Okay,” Don said.
Demming said, “The ladies will be in the Gold Room. Shall we join them, Your Supreme Holiness, Colonel Mathers, Max?”
The Gold Room adjoined the Blue Dining Room and, of course, the motif was golden, even including the frames which housed the Renaissance paintings on the walls. Once again, Don Mathers was no connoisseur of either furniture or art objects, but it came off to him as on the gaudy side.
The ladies were seated and had small liqueur glasses before them. In keeping with the room, Alicia’s drink seemed to contain specks of gold suspended in a water-colored liquid that could have been gin or vodka. Don couldn’t help stare at it, as the three men came up.
The girl laughed. “It’s Goldwasser, Colonel Mathers… ah, Don. A cordial that comes from Danzig. It’s fascinating to look at but, in truth, a bit too sweet. They are real tiny flakes of gold. One must shake up the bottle just before serving, since the gold slowly settles to the bottom.”
“I learn something every day,” Don said.
All laughed, or at least smiled.
The conversation became lighter than it had been when the four men were by themselves, but shortly the Grand Presbyter checked his wrist chronometer and looked up, as though in regret.
“I am afraid my morning duties are such that I must leave,” he said. “It has been a most enjoyable evening.” His eyes went to Demming and Rostoff. “And I trust a most profitable one as a result of our decisions.”
Demming lumbered to his feet, summoned a servant from one of the several who hovered in the background, and, after His Supreme Holiness had made his goodbyes to the others, led him to the room’s elevator. Seemingly, there was an elevator door in every room in the house, Don decided. It was the damnedest system he had ever come up against.
After the Grand Presbyter and his servant guide had gone, Don said, “You know, I should get to bed myself. From what you say, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, and, first of all, I’m going to have to report at the spaceport. I imagine Command is going to be wondering where in the world I am, although they’ve made no attempt to contact me.”
Demming huffed, “Have you any preference as to your accommodations here, Donal? The type of suite in which you would feel most at home?”
It hadn’t occurred to Don that he would have a selection. He had expected simply to be assigned a room.
He said, “Why, actually, if it makes no difference to you, I’d like to stay up in the penthouse. Your gardens are beautiful and we space pilots see little enough of trees, grass and flowers.”
Alicia stood. “Ill show Don to the visitor’s suite in the right wing, Father.”
The others, save Martha, stood as well and Don said his goodnights. The two men were as friendly as though he was a bosom companion of long years’ standing.
He followed the girl to the elevator, the door to which opened automatically at their approach. He was surprised to find the compartment available.
“Back so soon?” he said.
She laughed. “This isn’t the same one the Grand Presbyter took,” she explained, entering before him. He followed her and she said into the order screen, “The visitor’s suite in the right wing of the penthouse.”
The elevator, if elevator it could properly be called, moved sidewards for a time.
Don said, “You know, I’ve never even heard of an elevator of this type.”
She smiled at him, seemingly glad to have him to herself for the first time this evening. She said, “It was constructed especially to father’s specifications. You see, this establishment consists of the top two floors of the building and the penthouse. There are also two floors of offices below devoted entirely to father’s projects. Father hates to walk. Besides, just getting about would be terribly time-consuming, if one had to. The library, for instance, must be the better part of half a kilometer from father’s bedroom.”
“Ultimate Almighty,” Don muttered.
The compartment started upward.
He said, “You mean this shaft that we’re in tunnels around to every room in the place?”
“Practically. It’s very handy.”
“Don’t you have ordinary halls and ordinary doors?”