If word of such things got back to Earth, there’d be ships headed here in droves from every cult known to man, filled with credulous fools and profiteers—and among them might well be some of the hereditary president’s family. Fas Kaia had been more truthful than she knew when she equated her danger with Earth’s. In the unstable conditions back there, just the knowledge that such things could be would threaten the whole system. Meia had been a danger once; Athon was doom! At the palace, Dupont and his homely sister, with the eight human assistants who comprised all the Earthmen hi Kalva, were in the middle of some vague attempt at a welcoming party, but they seemed relieved when Judson pleaded extreme fatigue. They’d probably turn it into a dope binge now, from rumors of what went on here, with Dupont’s sister being passed around from man to man, not excluding her brother. But that was none of Judson’s business. With the decreasing number of women who came away from Earth for any reason now, men couldn’t be blamed for making the most of whatever they could find. Earth put stiff penalties on consorting with aliens, but it happened sometimes, even on Ludh. For that matter…
He dropped the thought and unpacked in the apartment assigned to him. From the bottom of his small bag he drew a final piece—a tissue copy of Selected Books of the Testaments. He’d never read it, though he’d considered doing so; few men were familiar with any of the contents now, since the rise of the cult mysteries. But it had become his luck piece. He put it near him as he turned to the records Kaia had given him.
The contents only confirmed her words, without adding any new information. And even confirmation was meaningless, since they could be forgeries. He’d have to play things by ear, it seemed—and probably one of his problems would be the priestess herself.
But now the fatigue he had used as an excuse was turning to reality. He should call a slave to bathe him and prepare him for bed, but it was too much trouble. He made another futile attempt to think about his problems, then dropped onto the bed. He’d undress in a moment…
Priestesses, goddesses, prophets! The last thing he had ever wanted was to get mixed into another Sayonese religious mess. Once had been bad enough—and yet…
Thirty years before he grew old, a man could have plans for the future, even on an outworld in the Colonial Service. Eli’s hopes were based on a book dealing with the oddities in the ecological balance of a world where marsupials had won the race for domination. He was spending his biannual vacation by himself in the retreat of a village a hundred miles north of Kalva, using a building the Service had owned but abandoned.
The book was neatly finished, too, and he’d been practically assured rjutfjicaltion. Then there’d be recognition, promotion, a chance to return to Earth; in time, there’d be a wife to make up for ten years without women; there’d be children. He’d always wanted a son of his own, though the idea was growing old-fashioned in the current culture.
It might have worked, except for an unexpected storm that caught him taking a walk to clear his mind. The same storm found a window he’d left carelessly open and blew away his antibiotic kit and ruined his radio. That left only the native doctor, who knew nothing about pneumonia. Eli passed into a delirium with the unpleasant idea that he’d wake up only in heaven—in which he had no belief.
When he came to, he was less sure. He felt rotten, and his sight was cloudy, but there was either an angel or an Earth girl in the room, talking Sayonese with an old greeny. She wore native clothes, but no native had skin like that—or provocative hips—or such shoulders. Then as she turned, he grunted in surprise. Damned few Earth women looked that good without makeup, either. He began to consider the angel idea seriously.
She shook her head at him, switching to English that had almost none of the lisped dentals caused by Sayonese slotted palates. “I’m only a goddess,” she told him. “That is, I will be in another month. You’re lucky I hadn’t gone to Kalva yet, though. You were almost dead, and your cells are—well, they’re different. I had a hard time with you.” Then she bent closer, long yellow hair falling over his face. “Are you really an Earthman, Eli?”
“I’m as much from Earth as you are,” he mumbled, reaching for her.
She seemed puzzled at his efforts to kiss her, but made no protests until the greeny uttered something that sounded like teasing. Then she disengaged herself, running her hands over her chest. With a shock, he realized it was as flat as his own.
“What’s a breasts, Uncle Kleon?” she asked.
“A breast, or two breasts—they come in pairs,” the creature told her, grinning in amusement. “Read his mind a little deeper and you’ll find a lot of things about them, I’ll bet.” His English was as easy and idiomatic as hers, though less clearly pronounced.
For a moment, she stared down at Eli. Then she began giggling like a schoolgirl as she left the room.
Kleon came over to drop heavily onto the bed. “I’m not really her uncle,” he said. “I’m her teacher, more or less, until she reaches the temple. I’m one of the few Sayonese who were admitted to one of your extension schools, before Earth decided to give up any idea of raising our living standard and to keep us on our own world. But I don’t hate Earth. I got over anger and hating long ago, which is probably why I’m still alive.”
“But what about her?” Eli asked.
The old man grinned affectionately. “She’s a lot more interesting than I am, I’ll admit. She’s what she says—a goddess. And a good thing, too. You were already in death shock when she got here. Haven’t you ever heard of our virgin goddesses?”
Eli had heard some stories, but he hadn’t really believed them. There had been a girl born about a century before who looked like an Earth woman and who had some fantastic power to heal the sick and restore the maimed. But not that human! He looked outside to where she was talking to a couple of Sayonese. Then he frowned. In the sunlight, there seemed to be a touch of green to her skin, and there was a hint of a line across her abdomen where a S&y&nese girl would have had a pouch. But it could have been only a subtle disguise.
“That’s her father and mother saying good-bye to her again,” Kleon said casually, indicating the two natives.
Eli fainted. When he next regained consciousness, his body seemed to be completely recovered, though it could only have been a couple of hours later. He drank some of the hot cheese soup Kleon offered him, swung out of bed, and faced the old man. “All right, give it to me in detail,” he suggested.
Kleon seemed ready and willing to oblige, and this time Eli was less skeptical. But he still had doubts until that evening when a wailing procession came up the road. Some had skin-rot, others were crippled, a few were blind. Then’^as they spotted Meia, their wails turned to cries «6f delight, and they made as much of a rush to her as they could, spreading out in front of her. Apparently, from what Eli could pick up of their degraded dialect, they had arrived late at her home village and been told she’d left, moving to Kalva for her birthday. Now finding her here was like a reprieve from hell. They seemed to regard Eli as a friend from heaven for having the good sense to get pneumonia and delay her.
One by one she took care of them, sometimes talking to them, sometimes laying on her hands. Eli watched, trying to spot the gimmick, and finally gave up. Under her fingers, flesh that had begun to corrode away literally grew new skin. Bones knit. Cataracts vanished from eyes. And once, to get at a broken spine, she casually levitated a native from the ground, spun him over, and pressed her hands to his back. There was a chant going on, but nobody seemed surprised at her feat.