“Earth, mostly; they're a wholly-owned subsidiary of the New Bechtel-Rand Corporation. It was fun, Joel.” She walked away; her ankles vanished from his field of vision.
He lay there for a few seconds more, then uncurled and got slowly to his feet. As she had promised, the door to the corridor stood open. He walked unsteadily out into the passageway, chose a direction at random, and began looking for the exit.
From Earth? As far as John was concerned, such monsters of decadence could only be from Hell, and he had every intention of destroying them before they could harm Godsworld any further.
And the woman who had seduced him and used that infernal spike on him-if that whore was merely a “stockholder", which he guessed to be something like the Satanic equivalent of a deacon, then this America Dawes could be no less than the Great Whore of Babylon herself.
Could the spike have been poisoned after all? He felt weaker than mere emotional distress would seem to account for. But then, he had just… raped? Attacked? He had just had a woman, and he had been drugged; the unknown aphrodisiac might have side-effects.
If he had been poisoned he would fight it off. He drew strength from his fury. His uncertain walk became his usual firm stride, and ten minutes later, after a few false turns, he found the lobby he had entered through. He left the building and marched toward the inn.
Chapter Nine
“Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?"-Job 38:2
Lazarus Speaker-of-Gospel cocked his head sideways and stared at his nephew in annoyance.
“You're sure of all this?” he demanded.
“Yes, Elder,” John replied, “I am. You've heard Matt's testimony as well; I'm sorry that the heretic Miriam Humble-Before-God won't speak, and that we couldn't find any of the other surviving scouts, but you have the sworn word of two good men, good Christians, and good soldiers. Isn't that enough?"
“I'm not sure; by your own admission you were drugged by this woman, and Matthew never heard anyone claim to be from Earth, nor saw any of the shameful perversions you insist took place."
Hiding his own annoyance, John said, “He saw the guns, though, and rode this airship of theirs, and can swear that these people are strangers to Godsworld who live in sinful luxury and decadence. Three years ago the Citadel of Heaven was just another heretic community, up in the hills-now it's the home base of this growing protectorate that uses Earthly weapons and preaches against evangelism. Even if these strangers aren't Satan's minions sent from Earth-and I believe that that's exactly what they are-they are an evil force we've got to destroy.” Beside him, Matthew nodded agreement.
Lazarus sighed.
At the end of the council table Jacob Blessed-Among-Men barked impatiently, “Enough of this! These people are obviously a threat, and we have to destroy them; John's right about that. So what are we going to do about it?"
“Can't it wait until after we've fought the Chosen?” Simon Called-to-the-Truth whined.
“Their power is growing steadily,” John said. “Marshside was on the verge of joining their protectorate when we captured it; if we'd been a month later, we might've faced not just one machine gun, but a dozen."
“And that's something that troubles me,” old Isaac Fisher-of-Men said, shaking his head unsteadily. “What could you and your men-fine as they are-do against the weapons you say these people have? John, you lost what-thirty men against that one machine gun?"
“Thirty-one,” John admitted. “And two more who died later. But Elder, we were taken by surprise; we were charging down an open hillside, making ourselves perfect targets. We wouldn't be doing that against the People of Heaven; we know what we're facing this time."
“Do we? John, you may be a good soldier, but you don't know everything; there were weapons back on Earth that make machine guns look like children's slings. What if these people have them?"
“Why should they? They didn't come here to fight a war; they came to subvert us, lead us into the temptations of material wealth and sensual pleasure. If they have other, mightier weapons, why have they kept them secret? Why not let it be known, so that we would be more frightened than ever? Maybe Earth has lost some of its wonders, just as we have; maybe they couldn't bring that much with them. I don't know their reasons, but I don't believe they have any of these miracle weapons."
“Still,” Lazarus pointed out, “you'd be leading men with swords up against machine guns."
“I would be leading men with swords and rifles and bombs and whatever shields we can devise up against machine guns-men armed with steel and with steel in their backbones, the steel of the one true faith, against guns manned by soft and decadent weaklings!"
“We don't need speeches,” someone muttered; John did not see who had spoken.
“The men of Marshside fought well,” Lazarus said. “They weren't weaklings."
“They weren't the People of Heaven, either-they hadn't even joined the protectorate yet."
“So you want to take all our guns and ammunition and men, all the explosives in New Nazareth, and attack the Citadel of Heaven with them, sneaking them in where the roads are so bad travellers ride this ungodly airship,” Simon said derisively. “Fine-what are we supposed to do if the Chosen attack while you're leading your men up through these hills?"
“I hope to have the armies of the Chosen with me,” John replied.
“What's he talking about?” Simon demanded, looking back and forth at his fellow Elders.
Lazarus sighed again. “I hadn't told them about that part yet, John,” he said. “I figured we'd best start with the easy part."
“Elders, I want to make a truce with the Chosen of the Holy Ghost. After all, they're as threatened by the People of Heaven as we are; I think we should put aside our differences until this greater threat has been destroyed. You've pointed out yourselves that our army, fine as it is, might not be enough against these diabolical weapons the Heaveners use-but if we had the Chosen marching beside us, our numbers doubled, nothing on Godsworld could stand against us."
“I don't like this,” Simon said, “I don't like it at all. They're heretics."
“They're still Christians, though,” John insisted. “The People of Heaven aren't."
Old Adam Bearing-the-Cross, who had sat quietly beside Jacob Blessed-Among-Men throughout the entire session until now, spoke up. “Our ancestors put aside their doctrinal differences in order to come to Godsworld in the first place,” he said. “They hoped for a miracle that would show them how to resolve those differences permanently, and that miracle never came-but can we do any less to preserve Godsworld than they did to create it? I don't say that I believe every word John has said about these people-it's hard to imagine offworlders sleeping a hundred years to come here and make trouble-but John obviously believes it, and he's a good man, an intelligent man. If he tells us these people are a real threat, and that stopping them is more important than showing the Chosen the error of their heathenish ways, then he's probably right. I say we make the treaty."
“I agree,” Jacob said. “After all, we can always take care of the Chosen later; this way we'll know more about how they fight."
“And they'll know more about the way we fight,” Isaac pointed out.
“We know enough about how they fight now,” Simon said. “Can't we deal with them first, and then attack the Heaveners?"
“We need their strength,” John said.
“Vote!” Paul Bound-for-Glory called.
“All right,” Lazarus said, “All those who favor treating with the so-called Chosen of the Holy Ghost to form an alliance to attack the so-called People of Heaven, vote ‘aye'. Paul?"
“Aye."
“Thaddeus?"
“Aye."
“Simon?"
“No."
“Isaac?"
“I'll abstain."
“Tom?"
“Aye."
“Jake?"