“Ladies and gentlemen, there must be fifty thousand people down there now, and more coming all the time. It’s a madhouse down there. I can’t see any of the armed forces, or the deputy, no one at all in authority. Obie Cox and his son are standing on the balcony, not moving. Why doesn’t he get out?” Pause. “They are throwing things at them…. There are some stun guns down there! And a rifle or two! Oh, my God! They are going to murder them!” The images of the milling people, stones flashing through the air, a fire in the distance—the hospital?—the engineers had adjusted the sound down so that the shrieks and screams and curses were muffled, and the pop now and then of a gun was too low to be ominous. The figures stood quietly. They began to rise slowly, and it was more as if everything else were sinking and they were still motionless. They were ten feet above the balcony before the crowds realized that they were ascending.
There was a scream from thousands of throats simultaneously, then absolute silence. The announcer: “It has to be a trick, of course. But what a trick! Higher and higher! They are fifty feet above the house now….” Sounds of rifle fire shattered the silence. One of the figures doubled over, was caught by the other, and together, they vanished into the woods. Static.
“I repeat, Blake Daniels Cox has been shot. We don’t know yet how badly he has been wounded. The people are silent now and the Army is getting through them, going into the woods to try to find a trace of Obie Cox and his son. We are circling the area but we can see nothing through the trees below us. They are down there somewhere. At the clearing there is a stunned silence now….”
Hours later they found Blake. He was lying on the ground, on a bed of pine needles, his eyes closed, his face composed in death, his hands across his chest. The front of his robe was crimson and brown with drying blood. Two doctors pronounced him dead.
The Church claimed him and took him to the temple, where he lay in state for three days, and on the third day Obie reappeared. He said nothing, but walked to the altar draped with black where he prayed before the casket.
Orders had been given out: no matter what happened the 3D cameras were to stay on, the proceedings were to be followed to the end. Later it was disputed on whose orders, but no matter, they had been given and the entire sequence was shown, although distorted in the memories of those who witnessed. One of the versions is as follows.
Obie prayed before the casket, his voice too low to catch the words, but his attitude that of sorrow and grief. Behind him the satin of the covering in the casket stirred and Blake sat up, then stood up and stepped out. There were screams and moans and fainting spells and even a heart attack down in the congregation and Obie whirled around to see why. He blanched and caught the dais to keep himself upright. Blake was laughing.
He didn’t go near the microphone, but his voice was everywhere, He must have been wired with a hidden mike. “This is another of Obie’s miracles! The miracle of a pill! Dead? Do nook dead? If I fly, is that a miracle of God, or is it the miracle of a new mechanical device? And if one is miraculous, why not the other? I can fly. So can you. I can produce water from rocks. So can you. I can make you heal yourselves. So can you. These are not miracles. These are the products of hard work, done by men, on Earth, for the benefit of other men. Miracles? The only miracle is that you have been duped. You have believed when you should have laughed. Obie Cox, God’s Voice? That is the joke, and you didn’t laugh. That is the only miracle.” He rose from the stage and hovered six feet above the coffin. “This is the climax of this act, I am to ascend into heaven, but not yet. Not today.” He pulled open his robe and put his hand on the belt that was under it. “Do I want to go higher, this depression will take me up. Lower, this one. Sideways, like this… ” He demonstrated as he spoke and there was only profound silence now as the people watched him. He landed easily once more, beside the shaking Obie. He draped his arm about Obie’s shoulder. “And this man can fly also, if he has an anti-gravity unit and the proper controls. As you can.”
His voice dropped dramatically then and he looked at Obie in wonder as he added, “You would let this man, this mortal man with thinning hair and feet that hurt and beard that is dyed regularly, this man with his exerciser and his girdle and his fondness for rich food, this man with his lusts and his fears pushing him, you would let this man define your god for you! That is the miracle!
“If you seek a god, seek him alone. That is the only way you can find one.
“If you seek miracles, look at the flowers that grow, at the rainbows that bridge the skies, at the ripening wheat in the field.
“If you seek an anti-gravity, go to the Barber Shops! They are for you, free, with no tithe expected in return. Go to the Barber Shops!” He patted Obie’s livid cheek and said sardonically, “Sorry, old man. The game’s over.” Then he rose into the air and, waving to the congregation, ascended through the skylight and vanished into the night sky.
All eyes turned again to Obie, who stood alone in the circle of the spotlight. He motioned to the engineer and the light went out. When it came back on, he was gone. He was never seen on Earth again.
Some say that he shaved his beard and simply vanished into the crowds that surged about the temple all night. Others say that Dee Dee and Billy were waiting for him and there ensued a three-way battle that, like the tigers racing about the tree, left only grease on the floor.
And that’s all, except for the cleanup, the loose ends, some of which will remain forever loose, because that’s how life is.
With such pretty new toys to play with the people forgot about the Church rather quickly. There they were, free to anyone who asked for them. Anti-gravity belts and power sources; the water-producing gadget; the power supply for dwellings. They flew from the cities. They found how simple it was to live when there was water and power and freedom to come and go as they chose. They learned that they could build their houses high in the skies, and support them with anti-gravity units; they could float into them with ease. They could float their cities over the ground if they chose. The governments were not happy about it, especially in the beginning. But can you shoot down October leaves in the wind? It was anarchy, but it was the new tide that was flowing, and no government was large enough to stop the tide. Eventually they went with it.
There were rumors. There were hearings concerning the mysterious disappearance of Obie Cox, and of his son. Everyone was questioned repeatedly, with no clear-cut answers arising from the testimony. Speculations grew: Obie had absconded with five billion dollars, said some. He had died and gone to heaven, said others.
There was some speculation, Wanda talked about it much later, that Obie had been secreted away by Blake on the fateful night when he demanded help. That Blake had donned a beard, and appeared alongside his own double on the balcony, taking equal chances with him of stopping any of the fatal bullets, but when the metal deflectors appeared shortly after that, it was argued that Blake hadn’t actually taken such a dreadful chance after all, if indeed he had been the one to appear in place of Obie. Oh, they studied the films carefully, and the experts said it was Obie Cox and his son Blake, and other experts said that it could have been almost anyone with a beard…. Fraud, charlatan, Voice of God:… What difference does it make now? He was gone. The funds from the Church had been signed over to a new research company, The Black Foundation, that despite lawsuits and threats gave away everything it developed.