'But if someone in Vatican…
'Not a chance. Not even the Pope. Ezra's loyalty belongs to Search, not to Vatican.
'Then someone must have learned the combination. Would that be possible?
'I suppose so. An outside chance. An extremely outside chance.
'The cube couldn't have been mislaid?
'No. Ezra put it in the safe. I stood by and watched him put it in and lock the door.
'Paul, what do you think?
'God, Jason, I don't know. Someone stole the cube.
'Because they didn't want it viewed?
'I would suppose so. There's this theological faction in Vatican. The ones who advocate canonizing Mary —
'The ones who'd like to get rid of Search. Who'd like to discredit you.
'I can't be sure of that, said Ecuyer, 'but I assume they would — if they had a chance, that is.
The two men sat in silence for a moment. The new log Tennyson had thrown on the fire was blazing now, crackling as it burned. Dawn light had flooded the room.
'That's not all of it, said Ecuyer. 'I haven't told you all of it.
'What else is there to tell?
'The first cube, the first Heaven cube, is gone as well. It also has disappeared.
Thirty-nine
The whisper went into Vatican, across all of End of Nothing.
Mary has performed a miracle. She has cured Jill of the stigma. She put her hand on Jill's cheek and the stigma went away.
The nurse said she'd seen it happen. Mary had asked Jill to bend over so she could reach out and touch her. As soon as Mary touched her cheek, the ugly blemish had been no more. Her cheek no longer bore the mark.
A miracle! A miracle!! A MIRACLE!!!
There could be no question of it. The few who caught a glimpse of Jill cried out the miracle, bore fervent testimony that the shameful mark was gone.
After a few people had cried out the miracle, Jill fled.
A worried band of cardinals carried the word to His Holiness, and His Holiness, not entirely happy with all their foolishness, clucked and made other derogatory noises, counseling the cardinals to assume a more skeptical attitude until more evidence was in. When one cardinal suggested that an ecclesiastical judiciary inquiry aimed at determining the advisability of beatification be convened, the Pope said it was much too early for such steps. His Holiness, somewhat upset, was essentially noncommittal, keeping his options open.
A general holiday, automatically, almost instinctively, was declared. Workers on the farms, the gardens, and the orchards dropped their tools and joined in a haphazard processional, heading for Vatican. Woodcutters came scurrying in from the forests. Many monks and other Vatican workers streamed out to join the happy throng. Vatican guards had their work cut out to prevent the mob from an indiscriminate invasion of Vatican. In the vast basilica, humans and robots fought for kneeling room to pray. At first the bells were silent, but, finally, in an attempt to placate the crowd, which had been shrieking against Vatican's apparent indifference to the self-evident miracle, pealed out and all the world was happy.
Knots of people gathered around the clinic, chanting for Mary, invading the little garden, trampling the shrubbery and the flowers. Guards held back the assemblage that continued to grow larger by the minute.
Mary, wakening, heard the chanting — 'Mary! Mary! Mary! — and managed to sit up in bed, amazed that many voices should be calling out her name. The nurse was not in the room; she had stepped into another room where, leaning out the window, she could see to better advantage what was going on.
Mary, summoning all her strength, slid out of bed, holding onto a chair to pull herself erect. She tottered to the door and, leaning against the wall for support, made her way down the corridor to where the great front door stood open to let in fresh air and coolness.
The crowd caught sight of her as she came out the door, clinging to it with one hand to keep from falling. A hush fell on all those who were gathered there, all eyes turned to take in the frailty and unquestioned holiness of the woman who stood there in the door.
She raised her hand to them, fist clenched, one finger extended, shaking that one finger in their collective faces. Her voice was thin and reedy, a quavering screech, and it carried far in the awe-struck silence.
'Naughty! she shrilled at them. 'Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!
Forty
'It doesn't look as if anyone's at home, Tennyson told Ecuyer.
'How can you tell?
'No smoke from the chimney.
'That doesn't prove a thing.
'Perhaps not. But Decker always has a fire. Sometimes, perhaps, not a large fire, but something burning so he only has to put on some wood to start it up. I've never seen the shack when there wasn't some smoke coming from the chimney.
'Well, we'll soon know, said Ecuyer.
They continued climbing the hill. Decker's beat-up vehicle was parked to one side of the shack. A neatly stacked rank of firewood stood between two trees, the trees serving as a crib for the wood. Off to one side was the garden, with its straight green rows of vegetables and one corner of it a riot of blooming flowers.
'It's not a bad place, said Ecuyer. 'I have never been here.
'You've never met Tom?
'No. He's not an easy man to meet. He makes himself somewhat unavailable. Do you think he'll talk with us?
'Sure, he'll talk with us. He's not a savage or a boor; he's a civilized, educated man.
'Exactly what did he say about knowing where Heaven is?
'He only said it once, that he thought he might know where Heaven was. He made no further mention of it and I never pushed him. I was afraid to, afraid he might shy off. I let him take his time.
'Maybe he will tell us now. If we explain to him how important it is. With the cubes gone, there is no chance at all of coming up with the coordinates we need. Maybe even with the cubes, there was not too great a chance, but now there is none at all. And now I agree with you. We damn well need those coordinates. Someone has to go to Heaven.
'I keep hoping, said Tennyson, 'that Tom may really know. I can't be sure any longer. At one time I was fairly sure he knew, but now that we're down to the crunch, I'm not quite as sure as I was to start with. He did tell me his ship ran into trouble and he got away in a lifeboat. That's how he got here. The boat brought him here.
They came up to the shack and Tennyson knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. 'He might be sleeping in there, he said.
'It's unlikely, said Ecuyer. 'He'd hear you. Let's take a look around.
They took a look around. They shouted for Decker and Decker did not answer. They went back to the shack. This time Ecuyer pounded on the door. After they had waited for a time, Ecuyer asked, 'Do you think we should go in?
'Yes, let's do that. I doubt that Decker would mind. The man has nothing to hide.
Ecuyer lifted the latch and the door opened. Inside they stood for a moment to become accustomed to the dimness.
The place was neat. Everything was picked up and put away.
Tennyson looked around. 'His rifle is gone, he said. 'It hung over there on the wall beside the fireplace. His knapsack and sleeping bag were stored on the shelf above the table. They're gone, too. More than likely he is on one of his rock-hunting trips.
'How long?
'I don't know. Probably the time would vary. He asked me to come along on one of the trips. When you can spare a few days, he said — as if we'd be gone only a few days. I would think he'd be back soon.
'Jason, it is important that we know as soon as we can. We can't allow the theological faction to get too much of a jump on us. If we could leak the word there was a good possibility of going out to have a look at Heaven, they'd back off.