"I think I can answer that," Dr. Brooks said diffidently.
"Huh? Oh, yes, Doctor -- what were you going to say?"
"Psychology is not a science because it is too difficult. The scientific mind is usually orderly, with a natural love for order. It resents and tends to ignore fields in which order is not readily apparent. It gravitates to fields in which order is easily found such as the physical sciences, and leaves the more complex fields to those who play by ear, as it were. Thus we have a rigorous science of thermodynamics but are not likely to have a science of psychodynamics for many years yet to come."
Wilkie swung around so that he faced Brooks. "Do you really believe that, Brooksie?"
"Certainly, my dear Bob."
Ardmore rapped on his desk, "It's an interesting subject, and I wish we could continue the discussion, but it looks like rain, and the crops still to get in. Now about this matter of founding a church in Denver -- anybody got any ideas?"
CHAPTER SIX
Wilkie said, " I'm glad I don't have to tackle it. I wouldn't have the slightest idea where to start."
"Ah, but you may have to tackle it, Bob," Ardmore countered. "We may all have to tackle it. Damn it -- if we only had a few hundred that we could depend on! But we haven't; there are only nine of us." He sat still for a moment, drumming the table. "Just nine."
"You'll never get Colonel Calhoun to make noises like a preacher," commented Brooks.
"Okay, then -- eight. Jeff, how many cities and towns are there in the United States?"
"And you can't use Frank Mitsui," persisted Brooks. "For that matter, while I'm willing enough I don't see how you can use me. I haven't any more idea of how to go about setting up a fake church than I have about how to teach ballet dancing."
"Don't fret about it, Doctor, neither have I. We'll play by ear. Fortunately there aren't any rules. We can cook it up to suit ourselves."
"But how are you going to be convincing?"
"We don't have to be convincing -- not in the sense of getting converts. Real converts might prove to be a nuisance. We just have to be convincing enough to look like a legitimate religion to our overlords. And that doesn't have to be very convincing. All religions look equally silly from the outside. Take the --" Ardmore caught a look on Scheer's face and said, "Sorry! I don't mean to tread on anybody's toes. But it's a fact just the same and one that we will make military use of. Take any religious mystery, any theological proposition: expressed in ordinary terms it will read like sheer nonsense to the outsider, from the ritualistic, symbolic eating of human flesh and blood practiced by all the Christian sects to the outright cannibalism practiced by some savages."
"Wait a minute, now!" he went on. "Don't throw anything at me. I'm not passing judgments on any religious beliefs or practices; I'm just pointing out that we are free to do anything at all, so long as we call it a religious practice and so long as we don't tread on the toes of the monkey men. But we have to decide what it is we are going to do and what it is we are going to say."
"It's not the double-talk that worries me," said Thomas. "I just stuck to saying nothing in big words and it worked out all right. It's the matter of getting an actual toe hold in the cities. We just haven't got enough people to do it. Was that what you were thinking about when you asked me how many cities and towns there are in the country?"
"Mmm, yes. We can't act we don't dare act, until we cover the United States like a blanket. We'll have to make up our minds to a long war."
"Major, why do you want to cover every city and town?"
Ardmore looked interested. "Keep talking."
"Well," Thomas went on diffidently, "from what we've already learned the PanAsians don't maintain real military force in every hamlet. There are between sixty and seventy-five places that they have garrisoned. Most towns just have a sort of combination tax collector, mayor, and chief of police to see that the orders of the Hand are carried out. The local panjandrum isn't even a soldier, properly speaking, even though he goes armed and wears a uniform. He's sort of an M. P., a civil servant acting as a military governor. I think we can afford to ignore him; his power wouldn't last five minutes if he weren't backed up by the troops and weapons in the garrisoned cities."
Ardmore nodded. "I see your point. You feel that we should concentrate on the garrisoned towns and cities and ignore the rest. But look, Jeff, we mustn't underestimate the enemy. If the Great God Mota shows up nowhere but in the garrisoned spots it's going to look mighty funny to some intelligence officer among the PanAsians when he gets to fiddling with the statistics of the occupied country. I think we've got to show up elsewhere and. anywhere."
"And I respectfully suggest that we can't, sir. We haven't men enough to pull it off. We'll have trouble enough recruiting and training enough men to set up a temple in each of the garrisoned cities."
Ardmore chewed a thumbnail and looked frustrated. "You're probably right. Well, confound it, we won't get anywhere at all if we sit here worrying about the difficulties. I said we'd have to play by ear and that's what we'll do. The first job is to get a headquarters set up in Denver. Jeff, what are you going to need?"
Thomas frowned. "I don't know. Money, I suppose."
"No trouble about that," said Wilkie. "How much? I can make you half a ton of gold as easily as half a pound."
"I don't think I can carry more than about fifty pounds."
"I don't think he can spend bullion very easily," Ardmore commented. "It should be in coin."
"I can use bullion," Thomas insisted. "All I have to do is to take it to the Imperial bank. Panning gold is encouraged; our gracious masters charge one hell of a stiff seigniorage."
Ardmore shook his head. "You're missing the propaganda aspect. A priest in long robes and a flowing beard doesn't whip out a check book and a fountain pen; it's out of character. I don't want you to have a bank account anyhow; it will give the enemy detailed records of just what you are doing. I want you to pay for things with beautiful, shiny golden coins, stacks of them. It will make a tremendous impression. Scheer, are you any good at counterfeiting?"
"I've never tried it, sir."
"No time like the present. Every man needs an alternative profession. Jeff, you didn't have any chance to pick up an Imperial gold coin, did you? We need a model."
"No, I didn't. But I suppose I could get one, if I sent word out among the Us that I needed one."
"I hate to wait. But you've got to have money to tackle Denver."
"Does it have to be Imperial money?" asked Doctor Brooks.
"Eh?"
The biologist hauled a five dollar gold piece from his pocket. "Here's a lucky piece I've carried since I was a kid. I guess this is a lucky time to let it go."
"Hmm ... How about it, Jeff? Can you pass American money?"
"Well, American paper money is no good, but gold coin -- My guess is that those leeches probably won't object, so long as it's gold -- at the bullion price, at least. I'm sure that Americans will take it."
"We don't care how much they discount it." Ardmore took the coin and chucked it to Scheer. "How long will it take you to make forty or fifty pounds of those?"
The master sergeant studied it. "Not long if I pour them rather than stamp them. You want them all just alike, sir?"
"Why not?"
"Well, sir, there's the matter of the date."
"Oh! I get you. Well, that's the only pattern we have; I guess we'll just have to hope that they either won't notice or won't care."