"I doubt it." I fast—forwarded the machine and the image reappeared.
"We are back in the room," Sybil said. "Without a record of what I saw. I'm so sorry." "Don't be." I ran a quick analytical probe. "You did everything that you could. So did the recorder. It worked fine—but there just is no record. I don't know why or how this happened. The electronics appear to have been operating but they, well, just didn't record anything." I scowled at the machine. "And I do not believe in miracles."
"No one's thinking about miracles," James said. "We're thinking technology. Whatever field of force or electronic pervasion created the Heaven trip, well, could it have interfered with the recording?" "Pretty obviously," I said.
"I have an idea," Bolivar said. "This was a good try—but it just did not work out. Next step. We need a long look around that place. You will remember that there was some kind of machinery that was blown up in the first church. I would like to see if there are any of the same kind of gadgets here…"
"No," I said. "Why not?"
"I don't mean no let's not do it. I mean no you don't do it. Because I do this particular job." I raised my hand to quiet their protests. "I say that not because I am older and wiser, which is true, but because I have had much more experience at this sort of thing Bolivar, I wouldn't think of making high—profit high risk investments if you were there to do it for me. After watching that last karate tournament I wouldn't dare face up to your brother in an even fight. It has always been the age of the specialist. Do any of you believe that you can do an unseen breaking and entering and searching job better than I can?" Silence was my only answer. "Thank you," I said—with some warmth. "But you will all have to help. This is the plan."
We had that night and part of the next day to make our preparations. It was going to be a joint effort. The church service for the Seekers of the Way was due to begin at noon. We met for a final rehearsal an hour earlier.
"You first, Sybil," I said.
"I go in with the others. Talk, act naturally and keep my eyes open. If everything goes as it usually does, then I have only one thing to do. I know that the outer door is always locked before the service begins. So when Father Marablis begins his sermon, I squeeze this." She held up a tiny wafer of plastic.
"That is a one—shot communicator," I said. "The battery shorts through the chip, which sends a millisecond—long signal before it burns out. It is undetectable both before and after use. I'll be waiting nearby. As soon as I get the signal I go in through the front door." I held up a modified lockpick. "Sybil took a close look at the lock—which is a make called Bulldog—Bowser. I know it well and it is very easy to open. James, you're next…"
"I'll be driving the delivery van, a rental with new identification numbers and fake signs. When Dad goes through the door I drive around and park in front of the church. Bolivar." "I'm inside the van with passive tracking equipment, magnetometer and heat detectors. I should be able to follow people moving inside. I also have a warning alarm receiver." I nodded. "Which I can activate in one of four ways in case of emergency. Bite hard on my back tooth, tap one toe quickly two times or pull off the top button of my shirt."
"That's only three," Sybil said. "The fourth I have no control over. It will be activated if my heart stops. Should the alarm go off, the boys break their way in with all guns firing~ Any remarks or questions?"
"Stun grenades and blackout gas as well as the guns," James said.
That was it. We had some tall and nonalcoholic drinks and discussed the Vulkann weather. After a time Sybil looked at her watch, stood and went out. We followed.
I waited Out of sight around the corner, apparently looking at the gaudy items in a tourist shop window while I patted, one by one, the various lumps in my clothes; weapons, detectors, tools, alarms, that sort of thing. I had no idea of what I would find inside the church so I had visited a number of electronic stores and stacked up on everything I could or might possibly need.
The phone taped behind my ear clicked sharply. I turned about, strolled around the corner and up the two steps to the church door. My left hand on the knob concealed the rapid twisting of the lockpick with my right. It was as fast as turning a key; I do have some experience at this sort of thing. The door opened and I went through without breaking pace. Closed and relocked it behind me. I was in a dimly lit vestibule with draperies covering the far side. I parted them a hairsbreadth and looked through. Father Slakey—Marablis was behind a high lectern and in full throat, unctuous vapidities washed over the attentive audience below.
"…doubt shall be taken from you and will be replaced by reassurance. It is written in the Book of Books that the path to salvation leads through the Land of Good Deeds. Good deeds and love must be your guiding stars, the beckoning fingers of the hereafter. A hereafter that lies ahead of you, restful and satisfying, calm and filled with the effervescence that passeth all understanding."
Very good. Not really very good, but really very bad. But good for me. For as long as he burbled on I could penetrate his holy of holies. The staircase was behind the door on the left, as Sybil had told me. She had no idea where it led; that was for me to find out. I went through and closed the door silently behind me, bit down gently on the microlight I held between my teeth. Dusty stairs wound upwards. I climbed them, walking with my feet close to the wail to prevent them from creaking. There was another door at the head of the stairs that opened into a large room, dimly illuminated by a single window.
I was over the main hail and could hear the rumble of the sermon dimly through the floor. I walked silently between the boxes and stacked chairs to a door on the far wall. This was to the rear of the building and should be over the mysterious antechamber that might very well be the entrance to Heaven. This was also roughly the same location as that of the electronic equipment that had been destroyed in the Temple of Eternal Truth. As I opened the door the rumble of the voice on the floor below stopped.
So did I. One foot still raised, Then I relaxed and stepped forward when the organ music began and the women began to sing. A spiral stairway led down. I took it, slowly and silently. Stopped before what I hoped was the last door.
It was stuffy and warm and I was beginning to sweat from the temperature alone. My pulse rate was, normal and my morale high. No more waiting—a time for doing. I turned the light off and pocketed it, then opened the door into darkness and stepped through.
Bright lights came on. Slakey was standing just before me. Smiling.
I had only the briefest of glimpses because at the instant that the lights flared I had dived to one side. Biting down hard with my back teeth.
At least I tried to bite. But as fast as I had been, something else was much faster. I could see and hear—but that was all. My body was flaccid, my eyes open and staring. At the greasy floor because I had landed heavily facedown. My jaw dropped open; I drooled. I felt the panic rising as I realized I could do nothing, could not control a single muscle. But at least I was breathing and my heart was still beating, pounding loud and strong in my ears. A shoe tip appeared in front of my eyes and my vision swirled, settled, staring up at the bright light. Slakey must have rolled me over; I could not feel a thing. His face blotted out the light.
"You can see me, can't you? And hear me as well? My neural neutralizer allows that. I know all about you Jim diGriz. I know everything for I am all—powerful. I know how you invaded this holy place of worship. I know who you came with."
His hands reached—down, my head turned. Sybil was lying next to me, sprawled and unmoving. My vision swirled again and Slakey was straightening up. Dressed in full regalia, I saw now. Bright robes with strange symbols covering them, with a high collar, a crown of some kind on his head. He raised his arms and shook his fists on high in a triumphant gesture. Both fists. The right one worked very well indeed and there was no sign of any scar on either wrist when his loose sleeves fell back. "You are a pitiful mortal and shall be destroyed. You seek enlightenment but you shall not have it. You and this female creature you sent to spy. You wish to see Heaven—then you will go to Heaven. You shall, you shall!"