Will it take long?
An hour, she said. You’ll be back home on time, don’t worry. If that’s what’s worrying you.
I have to be fair to Clissa, I said. She gives me freedom. I don’t want to abuse it.
All right. All right.
I took off my clothes. Once again Lilith disguised me as Alpha Leviticus Leaper. She had kept the clothes around from the other time; it surprised me that she hadn’t given them back to Thor Watchman. As though she knew we’d be playing this masquerade again.
She said, Before we go, there are some things you have to know. The first is that it’s absolutely forbidden for any human to enter a chapel. It’s like non-Moslems going to Mecca. For all I know, you may be the first Womb-born who ever went in.
The first what?
Womb-born. You’re a Child of the Womb. We’re Children of the Vat. Yes?
Oh. Oh. If it’s a sacrilege to smuggle me into a chapel, why are you doing it? Don’t you take the rules seriously?
Very seriously.
Then why?
Because I feel I can make an exception for you, Manuel. You’re different. I told you that once, remember? You don’t put androids in some special sub-class of humanity. I think that inwardly you’ve been on our side all along, even without being conscious of it. And so it wouldn’t be sacrilege to let you understand our religion a little.
Well, maybe.
And also you’re Krug’s son.
What does that have to do with it?
You’ll see, she said.
I was flattered. Fascinated. Excited. A little frightened. Am I really that simpatico to android aspirations? Can I be trusted? Why is she breaking the commandment? What is she trying to get from me? Unworthy thought. Unworthy thought. She is doing it because she loves me. Wants to share with me. Her world.
She said, Anyway, keep in mind that it would be very serious if you were found out. Therefore pretend that you belong in there, and don’t act nervous or uncertain of yourself. You were fine in Gamma Town. Be that way here.
But aren’t there certain rites I ought to be familiar with? Genuflections or something?
I’m coming to that, Lilith said. You’ll need a couple of gestures. One of them you already know. Like this.
Left hand to crotch, breast, forehead, one two three.
She said, That’s the sign of Krug-be-praised. It’s an act of homage. You make the sign when you first enter the chapel and when you start to join the prayer, silently or aloud. It’s also good to make the sign whenever the name of Krug is mentioned. In fact, the Krug-be-praised sign is appropriate in almost any part of the service, or whenever two androids of the communion meet outside the chapel. Let’s see you make it. Go on.
One two three. Krug be praised.
Faster. One-two-three.
One-two-three.
Good. Good. Now, here’s another important sign. Its meaning is Krug-preserve-us, and it’s specifically a prayer used in time of tension or doubt. Like saying God help us. You’ll use it whenever the text of the service calls for Krug to have mercy on us, Krug to aid us in any way. Whenever we’reimploring Krug.
Krug is really your god, I said, wondering.
This is the sign. She showed me how to make it. Cup one hand over each breast; then turn the palms outward. And act of contrition: see my soul, Krug! My heart is bare to you. She made the sign several times, and I followed her.
One more, Lilith said. The sign of submission to the Will of Krug. You’ll make it only once, when you first get into line of sight with the altar. Like this. Drop to one knee and reach your arms forward, palms turned up.
Does it matter which knee?
Either one. Do it.
I made the sign of submission to the Will of Krug. I was glad to learn it. Somehow I felt that I’d been submitting to the Will of Krug all my life, without even knowing it.
Lilith said, Let’s make sure you have it all clear, now. When you enter the chapel, what?
One-two-three. Krug-be-praised.
Good. Then?
When I can see the altar, I do the submission to the Will. Down on one knee, hands out, palms up.
Yes. And?
When favors are asked of Krug, I do Krug-preserve-us. Hands to breasts, turn hands out. I also do Krug-be-praised from time to time when the name of Krug is mentioned.
Fine. Fine. You won’t have any trouble, Manuel.
There’s another gesture I saw you make in Gamma Town, I said.
Show me.
I held my hands up with the palms facing each other about half a meter apart, and wiggled my hips and flexed my knees, making a kind of spiral.
You did it in Gamma Town, I said, when the mob was getting a little wild.
Lilith laughed. It’s called the Blessing of the Vat, she said. It’s a sign of peace and a sign of departure. We do it over a dead person in the final prayer, and we do it when we’re saying goodbye to one another in a tense situation. It’s one of the holiest signs. And you didn’t do it very well. You see, it’s based on the double helix of the nucleic acid molecule — genetics, yes? — the way the molecules are coiled. We try to duplicate it with our bodies. This way.
She did it. I imitated. She laughed.
I said, I’m sorry. My body just doesn’t bend that way.
It takes practice. You won’t have to do it, though. Stick with Krug-be-praised and Krug-preserve-us and you’ll be fine. Let’s go, now.
She took me to a shabby part of town in what I think once was a commercial section. It didn’t have the nightmare gaudiness of Gamma Town or the stately well-worn look of the part where the alphas live. Just shabby.
Chapel’s over there, she said.
I saw a storefront, windows opaqued. Couple of betas standing out front doing nothing particular. We started to cross the street. I got shaky. What if they find me out? What will they do? To me? To Lilith?
I am Alpha Leviticus Leaper.
The betas stepped aside, making Krug-be-praised, as we came up to them. Eyes lowered, air of respect. The social distances. Lilith would have had a much harder time if I didn’t have an alpha’s long lean build. My confidence rose. I even made Krug-be-praised at one of the betas.
We entered the chapel.
A large circular room. No seats. Carpet of thick soft pseudolife, obviously much knelt-upon in its time. Subdued lighting. I remembered to make Krug-be-praised as I walked. One-two-three.
A little vestibule. Two steps beyond it I got my first view of the altar. Lilith down on one knee, submission to the Will. I almost didn’t need to kneel. I almost fell, amazed.
The altar: a large square mass of what looked like living flesh, sitting in an ornate plastic tub. Purple fluid in the tub, swirling around and occasionally over this block of pink meat, which is at least a meter high and maybe three meters by two long, wide.
Behind the altar: my father in hologram. A perfect likeness. Full-size replica, looking at us face-on, stern expression, eyes fiery, lips clamped. Not exactly a god of love. Strong. Man of steel. Because it’s a hologram, the eyes follow you; wherever you are in the chapel you’re under the gaze of Krug.
I drop down. I lift the hands. Palms up.
Submission to the Will of Krug!
It stuns me. Even though I knew before, I still am stunned. Is it like this all over the world, I ask? Androids salaaming to my father? Barely audible whisper. Yes, she says. Yes. We pay homage. Krug be praised.
This man whom I have known all my life. This builder of towers, this inventor of androids. A god? I almost laugh. Am I Son of God? I don’t fit the role. Obviously no one worships me here. I am an afterthought; I am outside theology.
We get to our feet. With a tiny gesture of her head Lilith leads me to a place in the back of the chapel, and we kneel. In the darkness I feel comforted. There are perhaps ten, twelve androids in the chapel, all betas except for one male alpha who kneels right before the altar, back to us. I feel less conspicuous with the alpha there. A few more betas come in, making the appropriate gestures. No one pays any attention to us. The social distances.