"It sounds like a good idea to me," I said as Garth and I exchanged quick glances. "My brother and I are honored by your invitation, and we accept."
Loge didn't speak for some time, and I didn't like the look of the shadows that moved in his eyes. "You mock me, Dr. Frederickson," he said at last. "You do believe I am nothing more than a mad scientist, perhaps a paranoid schizophrenic, like my son-or simply morally corrupt, like my grandson. Do you believe I haven't seen into your hearts? You are both transparent. You believe that you can trick me into releasing you, so that you can stop the Valhalla Project-perhaps by killing me. Incredibly-despite all you have seen, and all I have told you-you still have hope. That is your insanity."
Loge abruptly moved to one side of the shield, disappeared from sight. There was a soft click, and then an even more ominous sound in the apartment.
hissssssssss
"I've taken great care in preparing this gas," Loge said kindly as he stepped back into view. "It is a gentle death; indeed, I think you will find it delightful. The two of you have suffered enough, and now I hope to give you considerable pleasure as you die. It's the least I can do."
hissssssssss
The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere inside the apartment, and there was the strong smell of lilacs.
My mother's dream.
"Loge, shut off the gas," I said, making a desperate effort to keep my voice even. "We have to talk to you. You still need us, because there's still one drawback to your plan, which you don't seem to understand. The rest of the body changes, but the brain cells don't. Somehow, the brain protects itself-like in the infant diving reflex, when the brain in a drowning person conserves its own oxygen. Your stuff won't work, because the membrane of the brain filters it out. Memory, self-awareness, instinct, prejudice, love, hate-all remain. You may have a planet filled with monkey people, but their human consciousness will remain the same. You'll accomplish nothing- nothing, Loge, except to inflict unimaginable suffering on the species you profess to love so much. You still need us if you hope to solve that problem. Shut off the gas."
Loge smiled gently, brushed a lock of silver hair away from his face. "I'm aware of what you just told me, Dr. Frederickson. I discovered this phenomenon when Garth was examined for the last time at the Institute. The adjustment in the formulation has already been made. All of the things you mentioned will be erased. Humankind will be able to start anew on its evolutionary path with a clean slate."
Oh-oh.
hissssssssss
My mother's dream!
"Loge, you have no right to decide alone what's best for four billion people!"
"Of course not," Siegmund Loge replied evenly. "I hope you don't think I would be so presumptuous as to take on such an awesome responsibility alone, without guidance."
"But you said nobody else knows what you're doing."
"God knows."
Loge's eyes teared, shimmered with gentleness and love.
"What?"
"I must confess that I haven't been totally forthcoming with the two of you," the old man said in a voice that was suddenly vibrant with ecstasy. "I said there were no gods, but there is God-the God of the universe, the God of us all. He first spoke to me when I was twelve years old, told me to begin collecting the pictures and film clips you saw. He has been speaking to me on a regular basis ever since, guiding me in my work. It was God who gave me the mathematical system I needed to apply the Triage Parabola to humankind, God who urged me to take responsibility for developing the Valhalla Project. I am doing God's will. You see, gentlemen, I am the Messiah. Good-bye, now."
Stunned, Garth and I watched Siegmund Loge turn and walk away down the long corridor to the door, which he closed quietly behind him.
Then Garth and I really got serious about trying to break through the shield.
hissssssssss
MY MOTHER'S DREAM!!
More broken furniture; muscles and bones near to breaking as we hurled ourselves against the Plexiglas, bounced off.
hissssssssss
MY MOTHER'S DREAM!!
… the end of the world, all hope gone…
MY MOTHER'S DREAM!!
hissssssssss
It seemed an appropriate time to panic, so we did-at least to the extent that Loge's happy death gas allowed us, which wasn't much. Actually, we were kind of laughing, singing and prancing around the living room when Mike Leviticus, submachine gun crooked in his one whole arm, yanked open the door at the end of the corridor and sprinted toward us. It was the funniest thing we'd ever seen, and Garth and I stood with our noses pressed against the Plexiglas and howled with laughter. We wouldn't move, even when Leviticus frantically motioned with his stump for us to get down, so he finally fired just over our heads. The shield didn't so much shatter as disintegrate, showering powder, slivers, and shards over us.
"Fly away home, Mike, m'boy," I cackled. "Poison gas. Get out of here."
Garth, even though he was in the middle of the Toreador Song from Carmen, nevertheless had the presence of mind to stumble over the rubble of the shield, find the switch and shut off the gas. Leviticus, his face red from the strain of holding his breath, used his machine gun-none too gently, beating the butt and barrel on our backs-to herd the giggling Fredericksons down the corridor and out the door, which he slammed shut behind him. He managed to whack us along another corridor, steered us to the left, and plopped us down on the floor directly beneath a huge ventilator shaft. After twenty minutes, our howls of laughter had dribbled off to an occasional, high-pitched giggle; another twenty minutes, and we managed to hold it down to spasmodic grins.
"Mongo?"
"I think I'm all right, Garth. You?"
"Me, too."
"Mike," I said, grinning foolishly up at the Warrior, "how can we thank you?"
Leviticus, his lantern jaw set firmly, shook his head. "I'm the one who has to thank you, Frederickson. If it weren't for you, my soul would have been doomed to eternal damnation."
"Huh?"
Leviticus held out his naked stump. "This was a sign, a warning-God at once punishing me for, and trying to rescue me from, my own stupidity. It's taken me all this time to realize it; thank God I realized it in time. I helped install the gas system, so I knew what Satan-when I understood a few hours ago that Loge was Satan-had planned for you."
"Good thinking," Garth said drily, then hiccuped with laughter.
"I know what the two of you have been through," Leviticus said, first staring at me intently, then at Garth.
"Yeah," Garth said with a dreamy smile, "it's been kind of a bummer."
"I saw what the two of you looked like when you were brought to the Institute… and I watched you both heal before my eyes. Only God could have done that; only God could have helped you survive all your trials, and only God's wonderful Grace could have healed you. Satan made you into beasts, but God made you human again. It was a miracle. That's when I began thinking."
"Ah," Garth said as we both began giggling again. "And not a moment too soon, dear boy."
"I realized then that I must be God's Warrior, not Satan's, at peril to my soul. It was up to me to rescue you from Satan. I picked up this machine gun, stole the plane, and came here as fast as I could." The Warrior paused, bowed his head low to us. "Please, please forgive me for my part in your suffering, and for taking so long to understand your true mission, to stop Satan."