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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pagan Passions + +Author: Gordon Randall Garrett + Laurence Mark Janifer + +Illustrator: Robert Stanley + +Release Date: September 26, 2007 [EBook #22767] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAGAN PASSIONS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Geoffrey Kidd, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;"><a name="fcover" id="fcover"></a> +<img src="images/001.jpg" width="329" height="550" alt="" title="Front Cover" /> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="tease" title="Back Cover"> +<a name="bcover" id="bcover"></a><h1><big>PAGAN PASSIONS</big></h1> + +<p class="head1"><big>Adult Science Fiction,</big><br /> +with the supernatural making complete sense.</p> + + +<p class="capt">The Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Greece and Rome had returned +to Earth—with all their awesome powers intact, and Earth was transformed +almost overnight. War on any scale was outlawed, along with +boom-and-bust economic cycles, and prudery—no change was more +startling than the face of New York, where, for instance, the Empire +State Building became the Tower of Zeus!</p> + +<p>In this totally altered world, William Forrester was an acolyte of +Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, and therefore a teacher, in this case of a +totally altered history—and Maya Wilson, girl student, evidently had +a totally altered way of grading in mind—but what else would a +worshipper of Venus, Goddess of Love, have in mind?</p> + +<p>This was just the first of the many Trials of Forrester, every bit as +mighty and perilous as the Labors of Hercules. In love with Gerda +Symes, like him a devotee of Athena, like him a frequenter of the +great Temple of Pallas Athena (formerly known as the 42nd Street +Library)—dedicated, in short, to the pleasures of the mind—Forrester +was under the soft, compelling pressure of soft, compelling devotees +of Venus, Bacchus and the like, and in need of all the strength that he +and his Goddess, the beautiful and intellectual Athena, could muster +to save him from the endless temptations of this new Earth.</p> + +<p>And into this sensuous strife strode Temple Myrmidons—religious +cops sworn to obey orders without question or hesitation—with a +pickup order for William Forrester.</p> + +<p>Where he was taken, what happened to him, the truly fantastic discoveries +he made about himself and the Gods and Goddesses—here +are the ingredients that make up this science fiction novel of suspense, +intrigue, mystery and danger. For science fiction it is, with the supernatural +making complete sense, and fun too, despite the Sword of +Damocles hanging by a thread over Forrester's head!</p> + +<h2 class="center"><big><big><i>by Randall Garrett and<br /> +Larry M. Harris</i></big></big></h2></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>P<br /> +a<br /> +g<br /> +a<br /> +n<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">P</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">a</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">s</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">s</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">o</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">n</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">s</span></h1> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="head2">A GALAXY Selected Novel<br /> +For<br /> +BEACON BOOKS</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="cpoemt"><div class="updown"><p class="head1"><big>P<br /> +a<br /> +g<br /> +a<br /> +n<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">P</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">a</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">s</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">s</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">o</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">n</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">s</span></big></p></div> + + + +<div class="head3"><i>By<br /> +Randall Garrett<br /> +and<br /> +Larry M. Harris</i></div> + +<div class="head4"><i><small>Published by</small><br /> +Galaxy Publishing Corp.<br /> +<small>New York 14, New York</small></i></div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center">ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS WORK ARE WHOLLY<br /> +FICTITIOUS AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO PERSONS<br /> +LIVING OR DEAD IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL</p> + + +<p class="center">Copyright 1959 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.</p> + +<div class="cpoem"><i>Galaxy Novels</i> are sturdy, inexpensive editions of choice +works of imaginative suspense, both original and reprint, +selected by the editors of <i>Galaxy Magazine</i> for Beacon Books.</div> + +<p class="center"><b>THIS IS BEACON BOOK NO. 263</b></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Cover by Robert Stanley</i></p> + +<p class="center">Printed in the U.S.A. by<br /> +THE GUINN COMPANY INC.<br /> +New York 14, N. Y.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="trans1"><p class="trnhd">Transcriber's Note</p> + +<p>Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors +have been corrected without note.</p> + +<p>A table of contents has been provided below:</p> + +<ul><li><a href="#fcover">FRONT COVER</a></li> +<li><a href="#bcover">BACK COVER</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">CHAPTER ONE</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">CHAPTER TWO</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">CHAPTER THREE</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">CHAPTER FOUR</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">CHAPTER FIVE</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">CHAPTER SIX</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">CHAPTER SEVEN</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT">CHAPTER EIGHT</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE">CHAPTER NINE</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN">CHAPTER TEN</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN">CHAPTER ELEVEN</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE">CHAPTER TWELVE</a></li></ul> + +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> + + +<p class="cap">The girl came toward him across the silent room. She +was young. She was beautiful. Her red hair curled +like a flame round her eager, heart-shaped face. Her arms +reached for him. Her hands touched him. Her eyes were +alive with the light of pure love. I am yours, the eyes +kept saying. Do with me as you will.</p> + +<p>Forrester watched the eyes with a kind of fascination.</p> + +<p>Now the girl's mouth opened, the lips parted slightly, +and her husky voice murmured softly: "Take me. Take +me."</p> + +<p>Forrester blinked and stepped back.</p> + +<p>"My God," he said. "This is ridiculous."</p> + +<p>The girl pressed herself against him. The sensation +was, Forrester thought with a kind of awe, undeniably +pleasant. He tried to remember the girl's name, and +couldn't. She wriggled slightly and her arms went up +around him. Her hands clasped at the back of his neck +and her mouth moved, close to his ear.</p> + +<p>"Please," she whispered. "I want you...."</p> + +<p>Forrester felt his head swimming. He opened his +mouth but nothing whatever came out. He shut his +mouth and tried to think what to do with his hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +They were hanging foolishly at his sides. The girl came +even closer, something Forrester would have thought +impossible.</p> + +<p>Time stopped. Forrester swam in a pink haze of sensations. +Only one small corner of his brain refused to +lose itself in the magnificence of the moment. In that +corner, Forrester felt feverishly uncomfortable. He tried +again to remember the girl's name, and failed again. Of +course, there was really no reason why he should have +known the name. It was, after all, only the first day of +class.</p> + +<p>"Please," he said valiantly. "Miss—"</p> + +<p>He stopped.</p> + +<p>"I'm Maya Wilson," the girl said in his ear. "I'm in +your class, Mr. Forrester. Introductory World History." +She bit his ear gently. Forrester jumped.</p> + +<p>None of the textbooks of propriety he had ever seen +seemed to cover the situation he found himself in. What +did one do when assaulted (pleasantly, to be sure, but +assault was assault) by a lovely girl who happened to be +one of your freshman students? She had called him Mr. +Forrester. That was right and proper, even if it was a +little silly. But what should he call her? Miss Wilson?</p> + +<p>That didn't sound right at all. But, for other reasons, +Maya sounded even worse.</p> + +<p>The girl said: "Please," and added to the force of the +word with another little wriggle against Forrester. It +solved his problems. There was now only one thing to do, +and he did it.</p> + +<p>He broke away, found himself on the other side of his +desk, looking across at an eager, wet-lipped freshman +student.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said. There was a lone little bead of sweat +trickling down his forehead, across his frontal ridge and +down one cheek. He ignored it bravely, trying to think +what to do next. "Well," he repeated at last, in what he +hoped was a gentle and fatherly tone. "Well, well, well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +well, well." It didn't seem to have any effect. Perhaps, he +thought, an attempt to put things back on the teacher-student +level might have better results. "You wanted me +to see you?" he said in a grave, scholarly tone. Then, +gulping briefly, he amended it in a voice that had suddenly +grown an octave: "You wanted to see me? I mean, +you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh," Maya Wilson said. "Oh, my goodness, <i>yes</i>, Mr. +Forrester!"</p> + +<p>She made a sudden sensuous motion that looked to +Forrester as if she had suddenly abolished bones. But +it wasn't unpleasant. Far from it. Quite the contrary.</p> + +<p>Forrester licked his lips, which were suddenly very +dry. "Well," he said. "What about, Miss—uh—Miss +Wilson?"</p> + +<p>"Please call me Maya, Mr. Forrester. And I'll call you—" +There was a second of hesitation. "Mr. Forrester," Maya +said plaintively, "what is your first name?"</p> + +<p>"First name?" Forrester tried to think of his first name. +"You want to know my first name?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Maya said, "I want to call you something. +Because after all—" She looked as if she were going to +leap over the desk.</p> + +<p>"You may call me," Forrester said, grasping at his +sanity, "Mr. Forrester."</p> + +<p>Maya sidled around the desk quietly. "Mr. Forrester," +she said, reaching for him, "I wanted to talk to you +about the Introductory World History course."</p> + +<p>Forrester shivered as if someone had thrown cold +water on his rising aspirations.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he said.</p> + +<p>"That's right," Maya whispered. Her mouth was close +to his ear again. Other parts of her were close to other +parts of him once more. Forrester found it difficult to +concentrate.</p> + +<p>"I've <i>got</i> to pass the course, Mr. Forrester," Maya +whispered. "I've just <i>got</i> to."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Somehow, Forrester retained just enough control of his +faculties to remember the standard answer to protestations +like that one. "Well, I'm sure you will," he said in +what he hoped was a calm, hearty, hopeful voice. He +was reasonably sure it wasn't any of those, and even +surer that it wasn't all three. "You seem like a—like a +fairly intelligent young lady," he finished lamely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she said. "I'm sure I won't be able to remember +all those old-fashioned dates and things. Never. +Never." Suddenly she pressed herself wildly against him, +throwing him slightly off balance. Locked together, the +couple reeled against the desk. Forrester felt it digging +into the small of his back. "I'll do anything to pass the +course, Mr. Forrester!" she vowed. "Anything!"</p> + +<p>The insistent pressure of the desk top robbed the +moment of some of its natural splendor. Forrester disengaged +himself gently and slid a little out of the way. +"Now, now," he said, moving rapidly across the room +toward a blank wall. "This sort of thing isn't usually +done, Maya. I mean, Miss Wilson. I mean—"</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"People just don't do such things," Forrester said +sternly. He thought of escaping through the door, but +the picture that arose immediately in his mind dissuaded +him. He saw Maya pursuing him passionately through +the halls while admiring students and faculty stared after +them. "Anyhow," he added as an afterthought, "not at +the <i>beginning</i> of the semester."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Maya said. She was advancing on him slowly. +"You mean, I ought to see if I can pass the course on my +own first, and <i>then</i>—"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Forrester cut in.</p> + +<p>Maya sniffed sadly. "Oh, you just don't understand," +she said. "You're an Athenian, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Athenan," Forrester said automatically. It was a correction +he found himself called upon to make ten or +twelve times a week. "An Athenian is a resident of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +Athens, while an Athenan is a worshipper of the Goddess +Athena. We—"</p> + +<p>"I understand," Maya said. "I suppose it's like us. We +don't like to be called Aphrodisiacs, you know. We prefer +Venerans."</p> + +<p>She was leaning across the desk. Forrester, though he +supposed some people might be fussy about it, could see +no objection whatever to the term Aphrodisiacs. A wild +thought dealing with Spheres of Influence strayed into +his mind, and he suppressed it firmly.</p> + +<p>The girl was a Veneran. A worshipper of Venus, +Goddess of Love.</p> + +<p>Her choice of religion, he thought, was unusually +appropriate.</p> + +<p>And as for his....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> + + +<p class="cap">It was hard to believe that, only an hour or so before, +he had been peaceful and calm, entirely occupied with +his duties in the great Temple of Pallas Athena. His +mind gave a sudden, panic-stricken leap and he was back +there again, standing at the rear of the vast room and +focusing all of his strained attention on it.</p> + +<p>The glowing embers in the golden incense tripods were +dying now, but the heavy clouds of frankincense, still +tingled with the sweet aroma of balsam and clove, hung +heavily in the quiet air over the main altar. In the flickering +illumination of the gas sconces around the walls, +the figures on the great tapestries seemed to move with +a subtle life of their own.</p> + +<p>Even though the great brazen gong had sounded for +the last time twenty minutes before, marking the end +of the service, there were still a few worshippers in the +pews, seated with heads bowed in prayer to the Goddess. +Forrester considered them carefully: average-looking +people, a sprinkling of youngsters, and in the far corner +a girl who looked just a little like ...</p> + +<p>Forrester peered more closely. It wasn't just a slight +resemblance; the girl really seemed to be Gerda Symes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +Her long blonde hair shone in the dimness. Forrester +couldn't see her very clearly, but his imagination was +working overtime. Her magnificently curved figure, her +wonderful face, her fiery personality were as much a +part of his dreams as the bed he slept on.</p> + +<p>If not for her brother ...</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed and forced himself to return his attention +to his duties. His hands remained clasped reverently +at his breast. Whatever battle went on in his +mind, the remaining few people in the great room would +see nothing but what was fitting. At any rate, he told +himself, he made rather an imposing sight in his robes, +and, with a stirring of vanity which he prayed Athena to +chasten, he was rather proud of it.</p> + +<p>He was a fairly tall man, just a shade under six feet, +but his slight paunch made him seem shorter than he +was. His face was round and smooth and pleasant, and +that made him look younger than he was: twenty-one +instead of twenty-seven. As befitted an acolyte of the +Goddess of Wisdom, his dark, curly hair was cut rather +long. When he bowed to a departing worshipper, lowering +his head in graceful acknowledgment of their deferential +nods, he felt that he made a striking and +commanding picture.</p> + +<p>Though, of course, the worshippers weren't doing him +any honor. That bow was not for him, but directed +toward the Owl, the symbol of the Goddess embroidered +on the breast of the white tunic. As an acolyte, after all, +he rated just barely above a layman; he had no powers +whatever.</p> + +<p>Athena knew that, naturally. But somehow it was a +little difficult to get it through his own doubtless too-thick +skull. He'd often dreamed of power. Being a priest +or a priestess, for instance—now that meant something. +At least people paid attention to you if you were a +member of the hierarchy, favored of the Gods. But, +Forrester knew, there was no chance of that any more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +Either you were picked before you were twenty-one, or +you weren't picked at all, and that was all there was to +it. In spite of his looks, Forrester was six years past the +limit.</p> + +<p>And so he'd become an acolyte. Sometimes he wondered +how much of that had been an honest desire to +serve Athena, and how much a sop to his worldly vanity. +Certainly a college history instructor had enough to do, +without adding the unpaid religious services of an acolyte +to his work.</p> + +<p>But these were thoughts unworthy of his position. They +reminded him of his own childhood, when he had +dreamed of becoming one of the Lesser Gods, or even +Zeus himself! Zeus had provided the best answer to those +dreams, Forrester knew. "Now I am a man," Zeus had +said, "and I put away childish things."</p> + +<p>Well, Forrester considered, it behooved him to put +away childish things, too. A mere vanity, a mere love of +spectacle, was unworthy of the Goddess he served. And +his costume and bearing certainly hadn't got him very +far with Gerda.</p> + +<p>He tore his eyes away from her again, and sighed.</p> + +<p>Before he could bring his mind back to Athena, there +was an interruption.</p> + +<p>Another white-clad acolyte moved out of the shadows +to his right and came softly toward him. "Forrester?" he +whispered.</p> + +<p>Forrester turned, recognizing young Bates, a chinless +boy of perhaps twenty-two, with the wide, innocent eyes +of the born fanatic. But it didn't become a servant of +Athena to think ill of her other servants, Forrester reminded +himself. Brushing the possibility of a rude reply +from his mind, Forrester said simply: "Yes? What is it?"</p> + +<p>"There's a couple of Temple Myrmidons to see you outside," +Bates whispered. "I'll take over your post."</p> + +<p>Forrester responded with no more than a simple nod, +as if the occurrence were one that happened every day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +But it was not only the thought of leaving Gerda that +moved him. As he turned and strode to the small door +that led to the side room off the main auditorium, he +was thinking furiously under his calm exterior.</p> + +<p>Temple Myrmidons! What could they want with him? +As an acolyte, he was at least immune to arrest by the +civil police, and even the Temple Myrmidons had no +right to take him into custody without a warrant from +the Pontifex himself.</p> + +<p>But such a warrant was a serious affair. What had he +done wrong?</p> + +<p>He tried to think of some cause for an arrest. Blasphemy? +Sacrilege? But he found nothing except his interior +thoughts. And those, he told himself with a blaze +of anger fierce enough to surprise him, were nobody's +business but his own and Athena's. Authorities either +less personal or more temporal had no business dealing +with thoughts.</p> + +<p>Beyond those, there wasn't a thing. No irreverence +toward any of the Gods, in his private life, his religious +functions or his teaching position, at least as far as he +could recall. The Gods knew that unorthodoxy in an +Introductory History course, for instance, was not only +unwise but damned difficult.</p> + +<p>Of course, he was aware of the real position of the +Gods. They weren't omnipotent. Their place in the +scheme of things was high, but they were certainly not +equal with the One who had created the Universe and +the Gods themselves in the first place. Possibly, Forrester +had always thought, they could be equated with the +indefinite "angels" of the religions that had been popular +during his grandfather's time, sixty years ago, before the +return of the Gods. But that was an uncertain theological +notion, and Forrester was quite ready to abandon it in +the face of good argument to the contrary.</p> + +<p>Whatever they were, the Gods were certainly the Gods +of Earth now.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Omnipotent Creator had evidently left it for them +to run, while he went about his own mysterious business, +far from the understanding or the lives of men. The +Gods, omnipotent or not, ran the world and everything +in it.</p> + +<p>And if, like Forrester, you knew that omnipotence +wasn't their strong point, you just didn't mention it. It +would have been impolite to have done so—like talking +about sight to a blind man. And "impolite" was not the +only word that covered the case. The Gods had enough +power, as everyone knew, to avenge any blasphemies +against them. And careless mention of limitations on +their power would surely be construed as blasphemy, +true or not.</p> + +<p>Forrester had never even thought of doing such a +thing.</p> + +<p>So what, he thought, did the Temple Myrmidons want +with him?</p> + +<p>He came to the anteroom and went in, seeing the two +of them at once. They were big, burly chaps with hard +faces, and the pistols that were holstered at their sides +looked completely unnecessary. Forrester took a deep +breath and went a step forward. There he stopped, +staring.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidons were strangers to him—and now he +understood why. Neither was wearing the shoulder-patch +Owl of Minerva/Athena. Both proudly sported the +Thunderbolt of Zeus/Jupiter, the All-Father himself.</p> + +<p><i>Whatever it is</i>, Forrester told himself with a sinking +sensation, <i>it's serious</i>.</p> + +<p>One of the Myrmidons looked him up and down in a +casual, half-contemptuous way. "You're William Forrester?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Forrester said, knowing that he looked +quite calm, and wondering, at the same time, whether or +not he would live out the next few minutes. The Myrmidons +of Zeus/Jupiter didn't come around to other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +temples on unimportant errands. "May I help you?" he +went on, feeling foolish.</p> + +<p>"Let's see your ID card, please," the Myrmidon said +in the same tone as before. That puzzled Forrester. He +doubted whether examination of credentials was a part +of the routine preceding arrest—or execution, for that +matter. The usual procedure was, and probably always +had been, to act first and apologize later, if at all.</p> + +<p>Maybe whatever he'd done had been so important they +couldn't afford to make mistakes.</p> + +<p>But did the Myrmidon really think that an imposter +could parade around in an acolyte's tunic in the very +Temple of Pallas Athena without being caught by one +of the Athenan Myrmidons, or some other acolyte or +priest?</p> + +<p>Maybe a thing like that could happen in one of the +other Temples, Forrester thought. But here at Pallas +Athena people took the Goddess's attribute of wisdom +seriously. What the Dionysians might do, he reflected, +was impossible to say. Or, for that matter, the Venerans.</p> + +<p>But he produced his identity card and handed it to +the Myrmidon. It was compared with a card the Myrmidon +dug out of his pouch, and the thumbprints on +both cards were examined side by side.</p> + +<p>After a while, Forrester got his card back.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidon said: "We—" and began to cough.</p> + +<p>His companion came over to slap him on the back with +bone-crushing blows. Forrester watched without changing +expression.</p> + +<p>Some seconds passed.</p> + +<p>Then the Myrmidon choked, swallowed, straightened +and said, his face purple: "All this incense. Not like +what we've got over at the All-Father's Temple. Enough +to choke a man to death."</p> + +<p>Forrester murmured politely.</p> + +<p>"Back to business—right?" He favored Forrester with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +a rather savage-looking smile, and Forrester allowed his +own lips to curve gently and respectfully upward.</p> + +<p>It didn't look as if he <i>were</i> going to be killed, after +all.</p> + +<p>"Important instructions for you," the Myrmidon said. +"From the Pontifex Maximus. And not to be repeated +to any mortal—understand?"</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded.</p> + +<p>"And that means <i>any</i> mortal," the Myrmidon said. "Girl +friend, wife—or don't you Athenans go in for that sort of +thing? Now, up at the All-Father's Temple, we—"</p> + +<p>His companion gave him a sharp dig in the ribs.</p> + +<p>"Oh," the Myrmidon said. "Sure. Well. Instructions not +to be repeated. Right?"</p> + +<p>"Right," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>Instructions? From the Pontifex Maximus? <i>Secret</i> instructions?</p> + +<p>Forrester's mind spun dizzily. This was no arrest. This +was something very special and unique. He tried once +more to imagine what it was going to be, and gave it +up in wonder.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidon produced another card from his pouch. +There was nothing on it but the golden Thunderbolt +of the All-Father—but that was quite enough.</p> + +<p>Forrester accepted the card dumbly.</p> + +<p>"You will report to the Tower of Zeus at eighteen +hundred hours exactly," the Myrmidon said. "Got that?"</p> + +<p>"You mean today?" Forrester said, and cursed himself +for sounding stupid. But the Myrmidon appeared not to +have noticed.</p> + +<p>"Today, sure," he said. "Eighteen hundred. Just present +this card."</p> + +<p>He stepped back, obviously getting ready to leave. +Forrester watched him for one long second, and then +burst out: "What do I do after that?"</p> + +<p>"Just be a good boy. Do what you're told. Ask no +questions. It's better that way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forrester thought of six separate replies and settled on +a seventh. "All right," he said.</p> + +<p>"And remember," the Myrmidon said, at the outside +door, "don't mention this to anyone. <i>Not anyone!</i>"</p> + +<p>The door banged shut.</p> + +<p>Forrester found himself staring at the card he held. +He put it away in his case, alongside the ID card. Then, +dazed, he went on back to the acolyte's sacristy, took +off his white tunic and put on his street clothes.</p> + +<p>What did they want with him at the Tower of Zeus? +It didn't really sound like an arrest. If it had been that, +the Myrmidons themselves would have taken him.</p> + +<p>So what did the Pontifex Maximus want with William +Forrester?</p> + +<p>He spent some time considering it, and then, taking a +deep breath, he forced it out of his mind. He would know +at eighteen hundred, and such were the ways of the +Gods that he would not know one second before.</p> + +<p>So there was no point in worrying about it, he told +himself. He almost made himself believe it.</p> + +<p>But wiping speculation out of his mind left an unwelcome +and uneasy vacancy. Forrester replaced it with +thought of the morning's service in the Temple. Such +devotion was probably valuable, anyhow, in a spiritual +sense. It brought him closer to the Gods....</p> + +<p>The Gods he wanted desperately to be like.</p> + +<p>That, he told himself sharply, was foolishness of the +most senseless kind.</p> + +<p>He blinked it away.</p> + +<p>The Goddess Athena had appeared herself at the service—sufficient +reason for thinking of it now. The statuesquely +beautiful Goddess with her severely swept-back +blonde hair and her deep gray eyes was the embodiment +of the wisdom and strength for which her worshippers +especially prayed. Her beauty was almost unworldly, +impossible of existence in a world which contained +mortals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>She reminded Forrester, ever so slightly (and, of +course, in a reverent way), of Gerda Symes.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be a great many forbidden thoughts +floating around this day. Resolutely, Forrester went back +to thinking about the morning's service.</p> + +<p>The Goddess had appeared only long enough to impart +her blessing, but her calm, beautifully controlled contralto +voice had brought a sense of peace to everyone +in the auditorium. To be doggedly practical, there was +no way of knowing whether the Goddess's presence was +an appearance—in person, or an "appearance" by Divine +Vision. But that really didn't matter. The effect was +always just the same.</p> + +<p>Forrester went on out the front portals of the Temple +of Wisdom and down the long, wide steps onto Fifth +Avenue. He paid homage with a passing glance to the +great Owls flanking the entrance. Symbolic of Athena, +they had replaced the stone lions which had formerly +stood there.</p> + +<p>The street was busy with hurrying crowds, enlivened +here and there by Temple Myrmidons—from the All-Father, +from Bacchus, from Venus—even one from Pallas +Athena herself, a broad-beamed swaggerer whom Forrester +knew and disliked. The man came striding up the +steps, greeted Forrester with a bare nod, and disappeared +at top speed into the Temple.</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed and glanced south, down toward +34th Street, where the huge Tower of Zeus, a hundred +and four stories high, loomed over all the other buildings +in the city.</p> + +<p>At eighteen hundred he would be in that tower—for +what purpose, he had no idea.</p> + +<p>Well, that was in the future, and he ...</p> + +<p>A voice said: "Well! Hello, Bill!"</p> + +<p>Forrester turned, knowing exactly what to expect, and +disliking it in advance. The bluff over-heartiness of the +voice was matched by the gross and hairy figure that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +confronted him. In some disarray, and managing to look +as if he needed simultaneously a bath, a shave, a disinfecting +and a purgative, the figure approached Forrester +with a rolling walk that was too flat-footed for anything +except an elephant.</p> + +<p>"How's the Owl-boy today?" said the voice, and the +body stuck out a flabby, hairy white hand.</p> + +<p>Forrester winced. "I'm fine," he said evenly. "And how's +the winebibber?"</p> + +<p>"Good for you," the figure said. "A little wine for your +Stomach's sake, as good old Bacchus always says. Only +we make it a lot, eh?" He winked and nudged Forrester +in the ribs.</p> + +<p>"Sure, sure," Forrester said. He wished desperately +that he could take the gross fool and tear him into tastefully +arranged pieces. But there was always Gerda. And +since this particular idiot happened to be her younger +brother, Ed Symes, anything in the nature of violence +was unthinkable.</p> + +<p>Gerda's opinion of her brother was touching, reverent, +and—Forrester thought savagely—not in the least borne +out by any discoverable facts.</p> + +<p>And a worshipper of Bacchus! Not that Forrester had +anything against the orgiastic rites indulged in by the +Dionysians, the Panites, the Apollones or even the worst +and wildest of them all, the Venerans. If that was how +the Gods wanted to be worshipped, then that was how +they should be worshipped.</p> + +<p>And, as a matter of fact, it sounded like fun—if, Forrester +considered, entirely too public for his taste.</p> + +<p>If he preferred the quieter rites of Athena, or of Juno, +Diana or Ceres—and even Ceresians became a little wild +during the spring fertility rites, especially in the country, +where the farmers depended on her for successful crops—well, +that was no more than a personal preference.</p> + +<p>But the idea of Ed Symes involved in a Bacchic orgy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +was just a little too much for the normal mind, or the +normal stomach.</p> + +<p>"Hey," Ed said suddenly. "Where's Gerda? Still in +the Temple?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't see her," Forrester said. There <i>had</i> been a +woman who'd looked like her. But that hadn't been +Gerda. <i>She'd</i> have waited for him here.</p> + +<p>And—</p> + +<p>"Funny," Ed said.</p> + +<p>"Why?" Forrester said. "I didn't see her. I don't think +she attended the service this morning, that's all."</p> + +<p>He wanted very badly to hit Symes. Just once. But +he knew he couldn't.</p> + +<p>First of all, there was Gerda. And then, as an acolyte, he +was proscribed by law from brawling. No one would hit +an acolyte; and if the acolyte were built like Forrester, +striking another man might be the equivalent of murder. +One good blow from Forrester's fist might break the +average man's jaw.</p> + +<p>That was, he discovered, a surprisingly pleasant +thought. But he made himself keep still as the fat fool +went on.</p> + +<p>"Funny she didn't attend," Symes said. "But maybe +she's gotten wise to herself. There was a celebration up +at the Temple of Pan in Central Park, starting at midnight, +and going on through the morning. Spring Rites. +Maybe she went there."</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," Forrester said instantly. "That's hardly +her type of worship."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" Symes said.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't fit her. That kind of—"</p> + +<p>"I know. Gerda's like you. A little stuffy."</p> + +<p>"It's not being stuffy," Forrester started to explain. +"It's—"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Symes said. "Only she's not as much of a prude +as you are. I couldn't stand her if she were."</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, she's not a—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not an Owl-boy of Owl-boys like you."</p> + +<p>"Not a drunken blockhead," Forrester finished triumphantly. +"At least she's got a decent respect for wisdom +and learning."</p> + +<p>Symes stepped back, a movement for which Forrester +felt grateful. No matter how far away Ed Symes was, +he was still too close.</p> + +<p>"Who you calling a blockhead, buster?" Symes said. +His eyes narrowed to piggish little slits.</p> + +<p>Forrester took a deep breath and reminded himself +not to hit the other man. "You," he said, almost mildly. +"If brains were radium, you couldn't make a flicker on +a scintillation counter."</p> + +<p>It was just a little doubtful that Symes understood the +insult. But he obviously knew it had been one. His face +changed color to a kind of grayish purple, and his hands +clenched slowly at his sides. Forrester stood watching +him quietly.</p> + +<p>Symes made a sound like <i>Rrr</i> and took a breath. "If +you weren't an acolyte, I'd take a poke at you just to see +you bounce."</p> + +<p>"Sure you would," Forrester agreed politely.</p> + +<p>Symes went <i>Rrr</i> again and there was a longer silence. +Then he said: "Not that I'd hit you anyhow, buster. It'd +go against my grain. Not the acolyte business—if you +didn't look so much like Bacchus, I'd take the chance."</p> + +<p>Forrester's jaw ached. In a second he realized why; +he was clenching his teeth tightly. Perhaps it was true +that he did look a little like Bacchus, but not enough +for Ed Symes to kid about it.</p> + +<p>Symes grinned at him. Symes undoubtedly thought +the grin gave him a pleasant and carefree expression. It +didn't. "Suppose I go have a look for Gerda myself," he +said casually, heading up the stairs toward the temple +entrance. "After all, you're so busy looking at books, +you might have missed her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>And what, Forrester asked himself, was the answer to +that—except a punch in the mouth?</p> + +<p>It really didn't matter, anyhow. Symes was on his way +into the temple, and Forrester could just ignore him.</p> + +<p>But, damn it, why did he let the young idiot get his +goat that way? Didn't he have enough self-control just +to ignore Symes and his oafish insults?</p> + +<p>Forrester supposed sadly that he didn't. Oh, well, it +just made another quality he had to pray to Athena for.</p> + +<p>Then he glanced at his wristwatch and stopped thinking +about Symes entirely.</p> + +<p>It was twelve-forty-five. He had to be at work at +thirteen hundred.</p> + +<p>Still angry, underneath the sudden need for speed, +he turned and sprinted toward the subway.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"And thus," Forrester said tiredly, "having attempted +to make himself the equal of the Gods, Man was given a +punishment befitting such arrogance." He paused and +took a breath, surveying the twenty-odd students in the +classroom (and some, he told himself wryly, <i>very</i> odd) +with a sort of benign boredom.</p> + +<p>History I, Introductory Survey of World History, was +a simple enough course to teach, but its very simplicity +was its undoing, Forrester thought. The deadly dullness +of the day-after-day routine was enough to wear out +the strongest soul.</p> + +<p>Freshmen, too, seemed to get stupider every year. +Certainly, when <i>he'd</i> been seventeen, he'd been different +altogether. Studious, earnest, questioning ...</p> + +<p>Then he stopped himself and grinned. He'd probably +seemed even worse to his own instructors.</p> + +<p>Where had he been? Slowly, he picked up the thread. +There was a young blonde girl watching him eagerly +from a front seat. What was her name? Forrester tried +to recall it and couldn't. Well, this was only the first day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +of term. He'd get to know them all soon enough—well +enough, anyhow, to dislike most of them.</p> + +<p>But the eager expression on the girl's face unnerved +him a little. The rest of the class wasn't paying anything +like such strict attention. As a matter of fact, Forrester +suspected two young boys in the back of being in a +trance.</p> + +<p>Well, he could stop that. But ...</p> + +<p>She was really quite attractive, Forrester told himself. +Of course, she was nothing but a fresh, pretty, eager +seventeen-year-old, with a figure that ...</p> + +<p>She was, Forrester reminded himself sternly, a student.</p> + +<p>And he was supposed to be an instructor.</p> + +<p>He cleared his throat. "Man went hog-wild with his +new-found freedom from divine guidance," he said. +"Woman did, too, as a matter of fact."</p> + +<p>Now what unholy devil had made him say that? It +wasn't a part of the normal lecture for first day of the +new term. It was—well, it was just a little risqué for +students. Some of their parents might complain, and ...</p> + +<p>But the girl in the front row was smiling appreciatively. +<i>I wonder what she's doing in an Introductory +course</i>, Forrester thought, leaping with no evidence at +all to the conclusion that the girl's mind was much too +fine and educated to be subjected to the general run of +classes. <i>Private tutoring</i> ... he began, and then cut +himself off sharply, found his place in the lecture again +and went on:</p> + +<p>"When the Gods decided to sit back and observe for +a few thousand years, they allowed Man to go his merry +way, just to teach him a lesson."</p> + +<p>The boys in the back of the room were definitely in a +trance.</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed. "And the inevitable happened," he +said. "From the eighth century <span class="smcap">b.c.</span>, Old Style, until the +year 1971 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>, Old Style, Man's lot went from bad to +worse. Without the Gods to guide him he bred bigger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +and bigger wars and greater and greater empires—beginning +with the conquests of the mad Alexander of +Macedonia and culminating in the opposing Soviet and +American Spheres of Influence during the last century."</p> + +<p>Spheres of Influence....</p> + +<p>Forrester's gaze fell on the blonde girl again. She certainly +had a well-developed figure. And she did seem so +eager and attentive. He smiled at her tentatively. She +smiled back.</p> + +<p>"Urg ..." he said aloud.</p> + +<p>The class didn't seem to notice. That, Forrester told +himself sourly, was probably because they weren't +listening.</p> + +<p>He swallowed, wrenched his gaze from the girl, and +said: "The Soviet-American standoff—for that is what it +was—would most probably have resulted in the destruction +of the human race." It had no effect on the class. +The destruction of the human race interested nobody. +"However," Forrester said gamely, "this form of insanity +was too much for the Gods to allow. They therefore—"</p> + +<p>The bell rang, signifying the end of the period. Forrester +didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said. "That's all for today. Your first +assignment will be to read and carefully study Chapters +One and Two of the textbook."</p> + +<p>Silence gave way to a clatter of noise as the students +began to file out. Forrester saw the front-row blonde rise +slowly and gracefully. Any doubts he might have entertained +(that is, he told himself wryly, any <i>entertaining</i> +doubts) about her figure were resolved magnificently. +He felt a little sweat on the palm of his hands, told +himself that he was being silly, and then answered himself +that the hell he was.</p> + +<p>The blonde gave him a slow, sweet smile. The smile +promised a good deal more than Forrester thought likely +of fulfillment.</p> + +<p>He smiled back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>It would have been impolite, he assured himself, not +to have done so.</p> + +<p>The girl left the room, and a remaining crowd of +students hurried out after her. The crowd included two +blinking boys, awakened by the bell from what had +certainly been a trance. Forrester made a mental note to +inquire after their records and to speak with the boys +himself when he got the chance.</p> + +<p>No sense in disturbing a whole class to discipline them.</p> + +<p>He stacked his papers carefully, taking a good long +time about it in order to relax himself and let his palms +dry. His mind drifted back to the blonde, and he reined +it in with an effort and let it go exploring again on safer +ground. The class itself ... actually, he thought, he +rather liked teaching. In spite of the petty irritations +that came from driving necessary knowledge into the +heads of stubbornly unwilling students, it was a satisfying +and important job. And, of course, it was an honor +to hold the position he did. Ever since it had been revealed +that the goddess Columbia was another manifestation +of Pallas Athena herself, the University had grown +tremendously in stature.</p> + +<p>And after all ...</p> + +<p>Whistling faintly behind his teeth, Forrester zipped +up his filled briefcase and went out into the hall. He +ignored the masses of students swirling back and forth +in the corridors, and, finding a stairway, went up to his +second-floor office.</p> + +<p>He fumbled for his key, found it, and opened the +ground-glass door.</p> + +<p>Then, stepping in, he came to a full stop.</p> + +<p>The girl had been waiting for him—Maya Wilson.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And now here she was, talking about the Goddess of +Love. Forrester gulped.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow," he said at random, "I'm an Athenan." He +remembered that he had already said that. Did it matter?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +"But what does all this have to do with your passing, or +not passing, the course?" he went on.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Maya said. "Well, I prayed to Aphrodite for +help in passing the course. And the Temple Priestess +told me I'd have to make a sacrifice to the Goddess. In +a way."</p> + +<p>"A sacrifice?" Forrester gulped. "You mean—"</p> + +<p>"Not the First Sacrifice," she laughed. "That was done +with solemn ceremonies when I was seventeen."</p> + +<p>"Now, wait a minute—"</p> + +<p>"Please," Maya said. "Won't you listen to me?"</p> + +<p>Forrester looked at her limpid blue eyes and her lovely +face. "Sure. Sorry."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, it's like this. If a person loves a subject, +it's that much easier to understand it. And the Goddess +has promised me that if I love the instructor, I'll love +the subject. It's like sympathetic magic—see?"</p> + +<p>Her explanation was so brisk and simple that Forrester +recoiled. "Hold on," he said. "Just hold your horses. Do +you mean you're in love with me?"</p> + +<p>Maya smiled. "I think so," she said, and very suddenly +she was on Forrester's side of the desk, pressing +up against him. Her hand caressed the back of his neck +and her fingers tangled in his hair. "Kiss me and let's +find out."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h2> + + +<p class="cap">Resistance, such as it was, crumbled in a hurry. Forrester +complied with fervor. An endless time went +by, punctuated only by short breaths between the kisses. +Forrester's hands began to rove.</p> + +<p>So did Maya's.</p> + +<p>She began to unbutton his shirt.</p> + +<p>Not to be outdone, his own fingers got busy with buttons, +zippers, hooks and the other temporary fastenings +with which female clothing is encumbered. He was +swimming in a red sea of passion and the Egyptians were +nowhere in sight. Absently, he got an arm out of his +shirt, and at the same time somehow managed to undo +the final button of a series. Maya's blouse fell free.</p> + +<p>Forrester felt like stout Cortez.</p> + +<p>He pulled the girl to him, feeling the surprisingly cool +touch of her flesh against his. Under the blouse and +skirt, he was discovering, she wore very little, and that +was just as well; nagging thoughts about the doubtful +privacy of his office were beginning to assail him.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he persevered. Maya was as eager as he +had ever dreamed of being, and their embrace reached a +height of passion and began to climb and climb to hitherto +unknown peaks of sensation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forrester was busy for some time discovering things +he had never known, and a lot of things he had known +before, but never so well. Every motion was met with a +reaction that was more than equal and opposite, every +sensation unlocked the doors to whole galleries of new +sensations. Higher and higher went his emotional thermometer, +higher and higher and higher and higher +and ...</p> + +<p>Very suddenly, he discovered how to breathe again, +and it was over.</p> + +<p>"My goodness," Maya said after a brief resting spell. +"I suppose I <i>must</i> love you for sure. My <i>good</i>ness!"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Forrester said. "And now—if you'll pardon the +indelicacy and hand me my pants—" he found he was +still puffing a little and paused until he could go on—"I've +got an appointment I simply can't afford to miss."</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right," Maya said. "But Mr. Forrester—"</p> + +<p>He rolled over and looked at her while he began dressing. +"I suppose it would be all right if you called me +Bill," he said carefully.</p> + +<p>"In class, too?"</p> + +<p>Forrester shook his head. "No," he said. "Not in class."</p> + +<p>"But what I wanted to ask—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?" Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"Mr.—Bill—do you think I'll pass Introductory World +History?"</p> + +<p>Forrester considered that question. There was certainly +a wide variety of answers he could construct. When he +had finished buttoning his shirt he had decided on one.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why not," he said, "so long as you complete +your assignments regularly."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Nearly two hours later, feeling somewhat light-headed +but otherwise in perfectly magnificent fettle, Forrester +found himself on the downtown subway. He'd showered +and changed and he was whistling a gay little tune as he +checked his watch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>The time was five minutes to five. He had just over +an hour before he was due to appear at the Tower of +Zeus All-Father, but it was better to be a few minutes +early than even a single second late.</p> + +<p>The train ride was a little bumpy, but Forrester didn't +really mind. He was pretty well past being irritated by +anything. Nevertheless, he was speculating with just a +faint unease as to what the Pontifex Maximus wanted +with him. What was in store for him at the strange +appointment?</p> + +<p>And why all the secrecy?</p> + +<p>His brooding was interrupted right away. At 100th +Street, a bearded old man got on and sat down next to +him. He nudged Forrester in the ribs and muttered: +"Look at that now, Daddy-O. Look at that."</p> + +<p>"What?" Forrester said, constrained into conversation.</p> + +<p>"Damn subways, that's what," the old man said. +"Worse every year. Bumpier and slower and worse. Just +look around, Daddy-O. Look around."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't quite say—" Forrester began, but the old +man gave him another dig in the ribs and cut in:</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't say, wouldn't say," he muttered. "Listen, +man, there ain't been an improvement in years. You +realize that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I—"</p> + +<p>"No progress, man, not in more than half a century. +Listen, when I was a teen king—War Councilor for the +Boppers, I was, and let me tell you that was big time, +Daddy-O—when I was a teen king, we were going places. +Going places for real. Mars. Venus. We were going to +have spaceships, man."</p> + +<p>Forrester smiled spasmically at the old man. "I'm +sure you—"</p> + +<p>"But what happened?" the old man interrupted. "Tell +you what happened, man. We never got to Mars and +Venus. Mars and Venus came to us instead. Right along +with Jupiter and Neptune and Pluto and all the rest of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +the Gods. And we had no progress ever since that day, +Daddy-O, no progress at all and you can believe it."</p> + +<p>He dug Forrester in the ribs one final time and sat +back with melancholy satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester said mildly, "what good is progress?" +The old man, he assured himself after a moment's reflection, +wasn't actually saying anything blasphemous. +After all, the Gods didn't expect their worshippers to +be mindless slaves.</p> + +<p>Somehow the notion made him feel happier. He'd have +hated reporting the old man. Something in the outdated +slang made him feel—almost patriotic. The old man was +a part of America, a respected and important part.</p> + +<p>The respected part of America made itself felt again +in Forrester's ribs. "Progress?" the old man said. "What +good's progress? Listen, Daddy-O—how can the human +race get anywhere without progress? Answer me that, +will you, man? Because it's for-sure real we're not going +any place now. No place at all."</p> + +<p>"Now look," Forrester said patiently, "progress is an +outmoded idea. We've got to be in step with the times. +We've got to ask ourselves what progress ever did for us. +How did we stand when the Gods returned?" For a +brief flash he was back in his history class, but he went +on: "Half the world ready to fight the other half with +weapons that would have wiped both halves out. You +ought to be grateful the Gods returned when they did."</p> + +<p>"But we're getting into Nowheresville, man," the old +man complained. "We're not in orbit. We can't progress."</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed. Why was he talking to the old man, +anyway? The answer came to him as soon as he'd asked +the question. He wanted to keep his mind off the Tower +of Zeus and his own unknown fate there. It was an unpleasant +answer; Forrester blanked it out.</p> + +<p>"Now, friend," he said. "What have you got? Just what +mankind's been looking for all these centuries. Security. +You've got security. Nobody's going to blow you to pieces<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +tomorrow. Your job isn't going to vanish overnight. I +mean, if you—"</p> + +<p>"I got a job," the old man said.</p> + +<p>"Really?" Forrester said politely. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Retired. And it's a tough job, too."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"And anyhow," the old man went on, "what's all this +got to do with progress?"</p> + +<p>Forrester thought. "Well—"</p> + +<p>"Well, nothing," the old man said. "Listen to me, man. +I say nothing against the Gods—right? Nothing at all. +Wouldn't want to do anything like that. But at the same +time, it looks to me like we ought to be able to—reap the +fruits of our labors. I read that some place."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"In the three thousand years the Gods were gone, we +weren't a total loss, man. Not anything like. We discovered +a lot. About nature and science and like that. +We invented science all by ourselves. So how come the +Gods don't let us use it?" The old man dug his elbow +once more into Forrester's rib. "How come?"</p> + +<p>"The Gods haven't taken anything away from us," +Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"Haven't they?" the old man demanded. "How about +television? Want to answer that one, Daddy-O? Years +ago, everybody had a television set. Color and 3-D. The +most. The end. Now there's no television at all. Why +not? What happened to it?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester said reasonably, "what good is television?"</p> + +<p>"What good?" Once more Forrester's rib felt the old +man's elbow. "Let me tell you—"</p> + +<p>"No," Forrester interrupted, suddenly irritated with the +whole conversation. "Let <i>me</i> tell <i>you</i>. The trouble with +your generation was that all they wanted to do was sit +around on their <i>glutei maximi</i> and be entertained. Like +a bunch of hypnotized geese. They didn't want to do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +anything for themselves. Half of them couldn't even read. +And now you want to tell me that—"</p> + +<p>"Hold it, Daddy-O," the old man said. "You're telling +me that the Gods took away television just because we +were a bunch of hypnotized geese. That it?"</p> + +<p>"That's it."</p> + +<p>"Okay," the old man said. "So tell me—what are we +now? With the Gods and everything. I mean, man, +really—what are we?"</p> + +<p>"Now?" Forrester said. "Now you're retired. You're a +bunch of retired hypnotized geese."</p> + +<p>The doors of the train slid creakily open and Forrester +got out onto the 34th Street platform, walking angrily +toward a stairway without looking back.</p> + +<p>True enough, the old man hadn't committed blasphemy, +but it had certainly come close enough there at +the end. And if pokes with the elbow weren't declared +blasphemous, or at least equivalent to malicious mischief, +he thought, there was no justice in the world.</p> + +<p>The real trouble was that the man had had no respect +for the Gods. There were a good many of the older generation +like him. They seemed to feel that humanity had +been better off when the Gods had been away. Forrester +couldn't see it, and felt vaguely uncomfortable in the +presence of someone who believed it. After all, mankind +<i>had</i> been on the verge of mass suicide, and the Gods +had mercifully come back from their self-imposed exile +and taken care of things. The exile had been designed +to prove, in the drastic laboratory of three thousand +years, that Man by himself headed like a lemming for +self-destruction. And, for Forrester, the point had been +proven.</p> + +<p>Yet now that the human race had been saved, there +were still men who griped about the Gods and their +return. Forrester silently wished the pack of them in +Hades, enjoying the company of Pluto and his ilk.</p> + +<p>At the corner of 34th and Broadway, as he came out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +of the subway tunnels, he bought a copy of the <i>News</i> +and glanced quickly through the headlines. But, as +always, there was little sensational news. Mars was +doing pretty well for himself, of course: there were two +wars going on in Asia, one in Europe and three revolutions +in South and Central America. That last did +seem to be overdoing things a bit, but not seriously. +Forrester shrugged, wondering vaguely when the United +States was going to have its turn.</p> + +<p>But he couldn't concentrate on the paper and, after +a little while, he got rid of it and took a look at his +watch.</p> + +<p>Twenty to six. Forrester decided he could use a drink +to brace himself and steady his nerves.</p> + +<p>Just one.</p> + +<p>On Sixth Avenue, near 34th Street, there was a bar +called, for some obscure reason, the <i>Boat House</i>. Forrester +headed for it, went inside and leaned against the +bar. The bartender, a tall man with crew-cut reddish +hair, raised his eyebrows in a questioning fashion.</p> + +<p>"What'll it be, friend?"</p> + +<p>"Vodka and ginger ale," Forrester said. "A double."</p> + +<p>It was still, he told himself uneasily, just one drink. +And that was all he was going to have.</p> + +<p>The bartender brought it and Forrester sipped at it, +watching his reflection in the mirror and wishing he felt +easier in his mind about the whole Tower of Zeus affair. +Then, very suddenly, he noticed that the man next to +him was looking at him oddly. Forrester didn't like the +look or, for that matter, the man himself, a raw-boned +giant with deep-set eyes and a shock of dead-black hair, +but so long as nobody bothered him, Forrester wasn't +going to start anything.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, somebody bothered him. The tall man +leaned over and said loudly: "What's the matter with +you, bud? An infidel or something?"</p> + +<p>Forrester hesitated. The accusation that he didn't believe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +in the practices ordained by the Gods themselves +was an irritating one. But he could see the other side of +the question, too. The tall man was undoubtedly a +Dionysian; and, more than that, a member of a small +sect inside the general <i>corpus</i> of Bacchus/Dionysus +worshippers. He held that it was wrong to distill grape +or grain products "too far," until there was nothing left +but the alcohol.</p> + +<p>That meant disapproval of gin and vodka on the +grounds that, unlike whiskey or brandy, they'd had the +"life" distilled out of them.</p> + +<p>Forrester, however, was not really fond of brandy +and whiskey. He decided to explain this to the tall man, +but at the same time he began to develop the sinking +feeling that it wasn't going to do any good.</p> + +<p>Oh, well, there was still room for patience. "Don't fire," +as Mars had said somewhere, "until you see the whites +of their eyes."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm no infidel," Forrester said politely. "You see, +I'm—"</p> + +<p>"<i>No infidel?</i>" the tall man roared. "Then I tell you +what you do. You pour that slop out and drink a proper +drink." He made a grab for Forrester's glass.</p> + +<p>Forrester jerked it back, sloshing it a little in the +process—and a few drops splattered on the other's hand.</p> + +<p>"Now look here," Forrester said in a reasonable tone +of voice. "I—"</p> + +<p>"You spilling that stuff on me? What the blazes are +you doing that for? I got a good mind to—"</p> + +<p>Another man stepped into the altercation. This was +a square-built, bullet-headed man with an air that was +both truculent and eager. "What's the matter, Herb?" he +asked the tall man. "This guy giving you trouble or something?" +He favored Forrester with a fierce scowl. Forrester +smiled pleasantly back, a little unsure as to how +to proceed.</p> + +<p>"This guy?" Herb said. "<i>Trouble?</i> Sam, he's an <i>infidel</i>!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forrester said: "I—"</p> + +<p>"He drinks vodka," Herb said. "And I guess he drinks +gin too."</p> + +<p>"Great Bacchus," Sam said in a tone of wonder. "You +run into them everywhere these days. Can't get away +from the sons of—"</p> + +<p>"Now—" Forrester started.</p> + +<p>"And not only that," Herb said, "but he spills the stuff +on me. Just because I ask him to have a regular drink +like a man."</p> + +<p>"<i>Spills</i> it on you?" Sam said.</p> + +<p>Herb said: "Look," and extended his arm. On the +sleeve of his jacket a few spots were slowly drying.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's too much," Sam said heavily. "Just too +damn much." He scowled at Forrester again. "You know, +buddy, somebody ought to teach guys like you a lesson."</p> + +<p>Forrester took a swallow of his drink and set the glass +down unhurriedly. If either Herb or Sam attacked him, +he knew his oath would permit his fighting back. And +after the day he'd had, he rather looked forward to the +chance. But he had to do his part to hold off an actual +fight. "Now look here, friend—"</p> + +<p>"Friend?" Sam said. "Don't call me your friend, buddy. +I make no friends with infidels."</p> + +<p>And, at that point, Forrester realized that he wasn't +going to have a fight with Herb or Sam. He was going +to have a fight with Herb <i>and</i> Sam—and with the third +gentleman, a shaggy, beefy man who needed a shave, +who stepped up behind them and asked: "Trouble?" in +a voice that indicated that trouble was exactly what he +was looking for.</p> + +<p>"Maybe it is trouble, at that," Herb said tightly, without +turning around. "This infidel here's been committing +blasphemy."</p> + +<p>Three against one wasn't as happy a thought as an +even fight had been, but it was too late to back out now. +"That's a lie!" Forrester snapped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Call me a liar?" Sam roared. He stepped forward and +swung a hamlike fist at Forrester's head.</p> + +<p>Forrester ducked. The heavy fist swished by his ear +harmlessly, and he felt a strange new mixture of elation +and fright. He grabbed his vodka-and-ginger from the +bar and swung it in a single sweeping arc before him. +Liquid rained on the faces of the three men.</p> + +<p>Sam was still a little off balance. Forrester slammed +the edge of his right hand into his side, and Sam +stumbled to the floor. In the same motion, Forrester let +fly with the now-empty glass. The shaggy man stood +directly in his path. The glass conked him on the forehead +and bounced to the floor, where it shattered unnoticed. +The shaggy man blinked and Forrester, moving +forward, discovered that he had no time to follow matters +up in that direction.</p> + +<p>Herb was snarling inarticulately, wiping vodka-and-ginger +from his eyes. He blocked Forrester's advance +toward the shaggy man. Forrester smiled gently and put +a hard fist into Herb's solar plexus. The tall man doubled +up in completely silent agony.</p> + +<p>Forrester took a breath and started forward again. The +shaggy man was shaking his head, trying to clear it.</p> + +<p>Then Forrester's head became unclear. Something had +banged against his right temple and the room was suddenly +filled with pain and small, hard stars. Sam, Forrester +discovered, had managed to get to his feet. The +something had been a small brass ashtray that Sam had +thrown at him.</p> + +<p>Somehow, he stayed on his feet. The stars were still +swirling around him, but he began to be able to see +through them, and peered at the figure of the shaggy +man, coming at him again. He let his knees bend a little, +as if he were going to pass out. The shaggy man seemed +to gain confidence from this, and stepped in carefully to +kick Forrester in the stomach.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forrester stepped back, grabbed the upcoming foot, +and stood straight, lifting the foot and levering it into +the air.</p> + +<p>The shaggy man, surprise written all over his shaveless +face, went over backward with great abruptness. His +head hit the floor with an audible and satisfying <i>whack</i>, +and then his limbs settled and he remained there, +sprawled out and very quiet.</p> + +<p>Forrester, meanwhile, was whirling to meet Sam, who +was coming in like a bear, his arms outspread and a +glaze of hatred in his eyes. Forrester, expressionless, +ducked under the man's flailing arms and slammed a +fist into his midsection. It was a harder midsection than +he'd expected; unlike Herb, Sam had good muscles, and +hitting them was like hitting thick rubber. The blow +didn't put Sam down. It only made him gasp once.</p> + +<p>That was enough. Forrester doubled his right fist +and let Sam have one more blow, this one into the face. +Sam's mouth opened as his eyes closed. His left arm +pawed the air aimlessly for a tenth of a second.</p> + +<p>Then he dropped like an empty overcoat.</p> + +<p>There was a second of absolute silence. Then Forrester +heard a noise behind him and whirled.</p> + +<p>But it was only Herb, doubled up on the floor and +very quietly retching.</p> + +<p>Catching his breath, Forrester looked around him. +The fight had attracted a lot of attention from the other +customers in the bar, but none of them seemed to want +to prolong it by joining in.</p> + +<p>They were all trying to look as if they were minding +their own business, while the bartender ...</p> + +<p>Forrester stared. The bartender was at the other end +of the bar, far away from the scene of action.</p> + +<p>He was, as Forrester saw him, just hanging up the +telephone.</p> + +<p>Forrester put a bill on the bar, turned and walked out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +into the street. He had absolutely no desire to get mixed +up with the secular police.</p> + +<p>After all, he had an appointment to keep. And now—after +a quiet drink that had turned into a three-against-one +battle royal—he had to go and keep it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> + + +<p class="cap">It wasn't a very long walk from the <i>Boat House</i> to the +Tower of Zeus, but it was long enough. By the time +Forrester got to the Tower, he was feeling a lot worse +than he'd felt when he left the bar. Being perfectly frank +with himself, he admitted that he felt terrible.</p> + +<p>The blow from the brass ashtray wasn't a sharp pain +any longer. It had developed into a nice, dependable +ache that had spread all over the side of his head. And +his right eye was beginning to swell, probably from the +same cause. He'd skinned the knuckles of his right hand, +too, probably on Sam's face, and they set up their own +smarting.</p> + +<p>True, it wasn't a bad list of injuries to result from +the odds he'd faced. But that wasn't the point.</p> + +<p>You just didn't go up to the Tower of Zeus looking +like a back-street brawler.</p> + +<p>However, there was no help for it. He straightened his +jacket and went in through the Fifth Avenue entrance +of the Tower, heading for the first bank of elevators.</p> + +<p>Zeus All-Father would know everything about his +fight, and would know that it hadn't been his fault. +(Hadn't it, though? Forrester asked himself. He remembered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +the joy he'd felt at the prospect of battle. How +far would it count against him?) Zeus All-Father, through +his priests, would make what allowances should be made.</p> + +<p>Forrester hoped that the Godhead was feeling in a +kind and merciful mood.</p> + +<p>He reached the bank of elevators, and the burly +Myrmidon who stood there, wearing the lightning-bolt +shoulder patch of the All-Father. Ahead of him was a +chattering crowd of five: mother, father, two daughters +and a small son, all obviously out-of-towners. The Tower +of Zeus was always a big tourist attraction. The Myrmidon +directed them to the stairway that led to the second-floor +Arcade, the main attraction for most visitors to the +Tower. The Temple of Sacrifice was located up there, +while the ground floor was filled with glass-fronted +offices of the secretaries of various dignitaries.</p> + +<p>Chattering gaily, and looking around them in a kind of +happy awe, the family group moved off and Forrester +stepped up to the Myrmidon, who said: "Stairway's right +over there to your—"</p> + +<p>"No," Forrester said. He reached into his jacket +pocket, feeling his muscles ache as he did so. He drew +out his wallet and managed to extract the simple card +he'd been given in the Temple of Pallas Athena, the +card which carried nothing but a lightning bolt.</p> + +<p>He handed it to the Myrmidon, who looked down at +it, frowned, and then looked up.</p> + +<p>"What's this for?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Well—" Forrester began, and then caught himself. +He'd been told not to explain about the card to any +mortal. And the Myrmidon was certainly just as mortal as +Forrester himself, or any other hireling of the Gods. +True, there was always the consideration that he might +be Zeus All-Father himself, in disguise.</p> + +<p>But that was a consideration that bore no weight at +present. Even if the Myrmidon turned out to be a God +in disguise, Forrester wouldn't be excused if he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +anything about the card. You had to go by appearances; +that was the principle on which everything rested, and +a very good principle too.</p> + +<p>Not that there weren't a few unprincipled young men +around who pretended to be Gods in disguise in order +to seduce various local and ingenuous maidens. But +Zeus always found out about them. And ...</p> + +<p>Forrester recognized that his thoughts were beginning +to veer once more. Without changing his expression, he +said evenly: "You're supposed to know," and waited.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidon studied him for what seemed about +three days. At last he nodded, looked down at the card +intently, raised his head and nodded again. "Okay," he +said. "Take Car One."</p> + +<p>Forrester moved off. Car One was not the first elevator +car. As a matter of fact, it was in the middle bank, +identified only by a small placard. It took him almost +five minutes to find it, and by the time he stepped toward +it clocks were ticking urgently in his head.</p> + +<p>It would do him absolutely no good to be late.</p> + +<p>But another Myrmidon was standing beside the closed +doors of the elevator car. Forrester hissed in his breath +with impatience—none of which showed on his face—and +then caught himself. Certainly Zeus All-Father knew +what he was doing, and if Zeus had thrown these delays +in his path, it was not for him to complain.</p> + +<p>The thought was soothing. Nevertheless, Forrester +showed his card to the Myrmidon with an abrupt action +very like impatience. This Myrmidon merely glanced at +it in a bored fashion and pushed a button on the wall +behind him. The elevator doors opened, Forrester stepped +inside, and the doors closed.</p> + +<p>Forrester was alone in a small bronzed cubicle which +began at once to rise rapidly. Just how rapidly, he was +unable to tell. There were no indicators at all on the +elevator, and the opaque doors made it impossible to see +floors flit by. But his ears rang with the speed, and when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +the car finally stopped, it did so with a slight jerk that +threw Forrester, stiff and worried, off balance. He almost +fell out of the car as the door opened, and clutched +at something for support.</p> + +<p>The something was the arm of a Myrmidon. Forrester +gaped and looked around. He was in a plain hallway +of polished marble. There was no way to tell how many +stories above the street he was.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidon seemed a more friendly sort than his +compatriots downstairs, and wore in addition to the usual +lightning-bolt patch the two silver ants of a Captain on +the shoulders of his uniform. He nearly smiled at Forrester—but +not quite.</p> + +<p>"You're William Forrester?" he said.</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. He produced the ID card and +handed it with the special card to the Myrmidon.</p> + +<p>"Right," the Myrmidon said.</p> + +<p>Forrester turned right.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidon stared at him. "No," he said. "I mean +it's all right. You're all right."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"Oh—" The Myrmidon looked at him, then shrugged +his shoulders. "You're expected," he said at last in a +flat voice. "Come with me."</p> + +<p>He started down the hallway. Forrester followed him +around a corner to an ornate bronzed door, covered with +bas-reliefs depicting the actions of the Gods among +themselves, and among men. The Myrmidon seemed unimpressed +by the magnificence of the thing; he pushed +it open and bowed low to, as far as Forrester could see, +nobody in particular.</p> + +<p>Taking no chances, Forrester copied his bow. He was +still bent when the Myrmidon announced: "Forrester is +here, Your Concupiscence," in a reverent tone of voice, +and backed off a step, narrowly missing Forrester himself +in the process.</p> + +<p>He waved a hand and Forrester went in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>The door shut halfway behind him.</p> + +<p>The room was perfectly unbelievable. Its rich hangings +were purple velvet, draping a large window that +looked out on ...</p> + +<p>Forrester gulped. It was impossible to be this high. +New York was spread out below like a toy city.</p> + +<p>He jerked his eyes away from the window and back to +the rest of the room. It was furnished mainly with +couches: big couches, little couches, puffy ones, spare +ones, in felt, velvet, fur, and every other material Forrester +could think of. The rooms were flocked in a pale +pink, and on the floor was a deep-purple rug of a richer +pile than Forrester had ever seen.</p> + +<p>And on one of the couches, the largest and the softest, +she reclined.</p> + +<p>She was clad only in the diaphanous robes of her calling, +and she was stacked. Beside her, little Maya Wilson +would have looked about eight years old. Her hair was +as red as the inside of a blast furnace, and had about +the same effect on Forrester's pulse rate. Her face was +a slightly rounded oval, her body a series of mathematically +indescribable curves.</p> + +<p>Forrester did the only thing he could do.</p> + +<p>He bowed again, even lower than before.</p> + +<p>"Come in, William Forrester," said the High Priestess +of Venus/Aphrodite, the veritable Primate of Venus for +New York herself, in a voice that managed to be all at +once regal, pleasant and seductive.</p> + +<p>Forrester, already in, could think of nothing to say. +The gaze of Her Concupiscence fell on the half-open +door. "You may retire, Captain," she said to the waiting +Myrmidon. "And allow no one to enter here until I give +notice."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Your Concupiscence," the Myrmidon said.</p> + +<p>The door shut.</p> + +<p>Forrester snapped erect from his bow, and then +realized that he could do nothing but stand there until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +he had more information. What was the High Priestess +of Aphrodite doing in the Tower of Zeus All-Father anyway? +And—always supposing she had the right to be +there, as of course she must have had—what did she want +with William Forrester?</p> + +<p>He heaved a great sigh. This was turning into an +extremely puzzling day. First there had been the message +and the card admitting him to the Tower. Then +there had been (the sigh changed in character) Maya +Wilson. And then (the sigh changed again, into a faint +echo of a groan) the fight in the <i>Boat House</i>.</p> + +<p>Now he was having an audience with the Primate of +Venus for New York.</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p>The High Priestess's smile gave him no hint. She +raised herself to a sitting position and patted the couch. +"Sit over here," she said. "Next to me." Then she changed +her mind. "No," she added. "First just walk over here, +stand up and turn around. Slowly."</p> + +<p>Forrester's brain was whirling like a top, but his face +was, as usual, expressionless. He did as she had bid him, +wondering frantically what was going on, and why?</p> + +<p>After he had turned completely around and stood +facing her again, the High Priestess simply sat and +studied him for almost a full minute, looking him up and +down with eyes that were totally unreadable. Forrester +waited.</p> + +<p>Finally she nodded her head slowly. "You'll do," she +said, in a reflective tone, and nodded her head again. +"Yes, you'll do."</p> + +<p>Forrester couldn't restrain his questions any longer. +"<i>Do?</i>" he burst out. "I mean," he continued, more +quietly, "what will I do for, Your Concupiscence?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for whatever honor it is that our beloved Goddess +has in mind for you," the High Priestess said offhandedly. +"I can certainly see that you will do. A little pudgy +around the middle, but that's a trifle and hardly matters.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +The important things are there. You're obviously strong +and quick."</p> + +<p>At that point Forrester caught up with the first +sentence of her explanation. "The—the Goddess?" he +said faintly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," the High Priestess said. "Else why would +I give you audience? I am not promiscuous in my dealings +with the lay world."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure," Forrester said respectfully.</p> + +<p>The High Priestess looked at him sardonically. "Of +course you are," she said. "However, the important thing +is that our beloved Aphrodite has selected you, William +Forrester, for some high honor."</p> + +<p>Forrester caught her word for the Goddess, and remembered, +thanking his lucky stars he hadn't had a +chance to slip, that here in the Tower it was protocol +to refer to the Gods and Goddesses by their Greek names +alone.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose," he said tentatively, "that you have +any idea just what this—high honor is?"</p> + +<p>"You, William Forrester," the High Priestess began, in +some rage, "dare to question—" Her tone changed. "Oh, +well, I suppose I shouldn't become angry with ... No." +She shrugged, but her tone carried a little pique. +"Frankly, I don't know what the honor is."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," Forrester said, his bearing perfectly +calm, even though he could feel his stomach sinking to +ground level, "how do you know it's an honor?" The +thought that had crossed his mind was almost too horrible +to retain, but he had to say it. "Perhaps," he went +on, "I've offended the Gods in some unusual way—some +way very offensive to them."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you have."</p> + +<p>"And perhaps," Forrester said, "they've decided on +some exquisite method of punishing me. Something like +the punishment they gave Tantalus when he—"</p> + +<p>"I know the ways of the Gods quite well, thank you,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +the High Priestess said coolly. "And I can tell you that +your fears have no justification."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Please," the High Priestess said, raising a hand. "If +the Gods were to punish you, they would simply have +sent out a squad of Myrmidons to pick you up, and that +would have been the end of it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," Forrester said, in a voice that didn't +sound at all like his own to him. It sounded much too +unconcerned. "Perhaps I have offended only the Goddess +herself." The idea sounded more plausible the more +he thought about it. "Certainly the All-Father would +back up his favorite Daughter in punishing a mortal."</p> + +<p>"Certainly he would. There is no doubt of that. And +still the Myrmidons would have—"</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily. You're well aware of the occasional +arguments and quarrels between the Gods."</p> + +<p>"I am," the High Priestess said, not without irony. +"And it does not appear seemly that an ordinary mortal +should mention—"</p> + +<p>"I teach History," Forrester said. "I know of such +quarrels. Especially between Athena and Aphrodite."</p> + +<p>"And?"</p> + +<p>"It's obvious. Since I'm an acolyte of Athena, it may +be that Aphrodite wished to keep my arrest secret."</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," the High Priestess said.</p> + +<p>Forrester wished he could believe her. But his own +theory looked uncomfortably plausible. "It certainly looks +as if I'm right."</p> + +<p>"Well—" For a second the High Priestess paled visibly, +the freckles that went with her red hair standing out +clearly on her face and giving her the disturbing appearance +of an eleven-year-old. No eleven-year-old, however, +Forrester reminded himself, had ever been built like the +High Priestess.</p> + +<p>Then she regained her color and laughed, all in an +instant. "For a minute," she said in a light tone, "you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +almost convinced me of your forebodings. But there's +nothing in them. There couldn't be."</p> + +<p>Forrester opened his mouth, and <i>Why not?</i> was on his +lips. But he never got a chance to say the words. The +High Priestess blinked and peered more closely at his +face, and before he had a chance to speak she asked him: +"What happened to you?"</p> + +<p>"A small accident," Forrester said quickly. It was a lie, +but he thought a pardonable one. The truth was just too +complicated to spin out; he had no real intent to deceive.</p> + +<p>But the High Priestess shook her head. "No," she said. +"Not an accident. A fight. Your hands are skinned and +bruised."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Forrester said. "It was a fight. But I was +attacked, and entitled to defend myself."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure," the High Priestess said. "Yet I have a +question for you. Who won?"</p> + +<p>"Won? I did. Naturally."</p> + +<p>It sounded boastful, he reflected, but it wasn't. He +had won, and it had been natural to him to do so. His +build and strength, as well as his speed, had made any +other outcome unlikely.</p> + +<p>And the High Priestess didn't seem to take offense. She +said only: "I thought so. Just a moment." Then she +walked over to a telephone. It was a simple act but Forrester +watched it fervently. First she stood up, and then +she took a step, and then another step ... and her whole +body moved. And moved.</p> + +<p>It was marvelous. He watched her bend down to pick +up the phone without any clear idea of the meaning of +the motions. The motions themselves were enough. Every +curve and jiggle and bounce was engraved forever on +his mind.</p> + +<p>The High Priestess dialed a number, waited and said: +"Aphrodite's compliments to Hermes the Healer."</p> + +<p>An indistinguishable voice answered her from the receiver.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aphrodite thanks you," the High Priestess said, "and +asks if Hermes might send one of his priests around for +a few minor ministrations."</p> + +<p>The receiver said something else.</p> + +<p>"No," the High Priestess said. "Nothing like that. Don't +you think we have other interests—such as they are?"</p> + +<p>Again the receiver.</p> + +<p>"Just a black eye and some skin lacerations," the High +Priestess said. "Nothing serious."</p> + +<p>And the receiver replied once more.</p> + +<p>"Very well," the High Priestess said. "Aphrodite wishes +you well." She hung up.</p> + +<p>She came back to the couch, Forrester's eyes following +her every inch of the way. She sat down, looked up and +said: "What's the matter? Do I bore you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Bore</i> me?" Forrester all but cried.</p> + +<p>"It's just—well, nothing, I suppose," the High Priestess +said. "Your expression."</p> + +<p>"Training," Forrester explained. "An acolyte does well +not to express his emotions too clearly."</p> + +<p>The High Priestess nodded casually and patted the +couch at her side. "Sit down here, next to me."</p> + +<p>Forrester did so, gingerly.</p> + +<p>A moment of silence ensued.</p> + +<p>Then Forrester, gathering courage, said: "Thank you +for getting a Healer. But I'd like to ask you—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"How do you know I'm not under some sort of carefully +concealed arrest? After all, you said before that you +were sure—"</p> + +<p>"And I am sure," the High Priestess said. "Aphrodite +herself has ordered a sacrifice in her favor. A sacrifice +from you. And Aphrodite does not accept—much less +<i>order</i>—a sacrifice from those standing in her disfavor."</p> + +<p>"You're—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure," the High Priestess said.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said. "Good." The world was not quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +as black as it could have been. And still, it was not +exactly shining white. A sacrifice? And outside the door, +Forrester could hear a disturbance.</p> + +<p>What did that mean?</p> + +<p>Her Concupiscence didn't seem to hear it at first. "We +will perform the rite together and—" The noise grew +louder. "What's that?" she said.</p> + +<p>It was the sound of argument. Forrester realized what +had happened. "It's the priest from Hermes," he said. +"The Healer. You forgot to tell the Captain of Myrmidons +to let him in."</p> + +<p>"My goodness!" the High Priestess said. "So I did! It +slipped my mind entirely." She touched Forrester's cheek +affectionately. "Of course, I imagine it's only natural to +be a bit forgetful when—" She got up and went to the +door.</p> + +<p>The Captain and a small, fat priest in a golden-edged +tunic were tangled confusedly outside. The High +Priestess looked away from them in disdain and said +regally: "You may permit the Healer to enter, Captain." +The tangle came untied and the little priest scooted in. +To him, as the door closed again, the High Priestess +whispered: "Sorry. I didn't expect you quite so soon."</p> + +<p>"No more did I!" The priest waved his caduceus +furiously, so that it seemed as if the twin snakes twined +round it were moving, the two wings above them beating, +and the ball surmounting all, on top of the staff, +traced uneasy designs in the air. "Myrmidons!" he said.</p> + +<p>"I certainly regret—"</p> + +<p>"If you boiled down their brains for the fat content, +one alone would supply the Temple with candles for a +year! Just beef and nothing more! Beef! Beef!"</p> + +<p>Then, with a start, he seemed to see the High Priestess +for the first time, and his tone changed. "Oh," he said. +"Good evening, Your Concupiscence."</p> + +<p>"Good evening," the High Priestess said in an indulgent +tone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, well, well," the priest said. "What seems to be +the trouble? My goodness. It must be important, sure +enough—certainly important." His little round red eager +face seemed to shine as he went on. "Hermes himself +transported me here just as soon as you called!"</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my, yes," the priest said. "Just as soon as ever. +Yes. Hm. And you can believe me when I tell you—believe +me, Your Concupiscence—take my word when I +tell you—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Hermes," the priest said. "Hermes doesn't often take +such an interest—I may say such a <i>personal</i> interest—in +a mortal, I'll tell you. And you can believe me when +I do tell you that. I do."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure," the High Priestess said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," the priest said, waving his caduceus gently. He +blinked. "Where's the patient? The mortal?"</p> + +<p>"He's over here," the High Priestess said, motioning +to Forrester sitting awestruck on the couch. Priests of +Hermes were common enough sights—but a priest like +this was something new and strange in his experience.</p> + +<p>"Ah," the priest said, twinkling at him. "So there you +are, eh? Over there? You <i>are</i> sitting over <i>there</i>, aren't +you?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Forrester said blankly.</p> + +<p>"Now listen to me carefully," the High Priestess said. +"You're not to ask his name, or mention anything about +this visit to anyone—understand?"</p> + +<p>The priest blinked. "Oh, certainly. Absolutely. Without +doubt. I've already been told that, you might say. +Already. Certainly. Wouldn't think of such a thing." He +moved over and stood near Forrester, peering down at +him. "My goodness," he said. "Let me see that eye, young +man."</p> + +<p>Forrester turned his head wordlessly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my, yes," the priest said. "Black indeed. Very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +black. A fight. My, yes. An altercation, disagreement, +discussion, battle—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Forrester cut in.</p> + +<p>"Certainly you have," the priest said. "And what'd the +other fellow look like, eh? Beaten, I'll bet. You look a +strong type."</p> + +<p>Forrester relaxed. It was the only thing to do while +the priest babbled on, touching his wounds gently as he +did so with various parts of his caduceus. The pain +vanished with a touch of the left wingtip, and the lacerations +healed instantly as they were caressed with first +one and then another of the various coils of the snakes.</p> + +<p>But Forrester now was free to worry. Arrest was out +of the question. As the High Priestess had said, on the +evidence it was clear that Aphrodite intended to honor +him in some way. And there was nothing at all, he +thought, wrong with an honor from the Goddess of +Love.</p> + +<p>But another sacrifice? After the sacrifice to Aphrodite +he'd made earlier, and the fight he'd gotten into, he +just didn't quite feel up to it. It wouldn't do to refuse, +but ...</p> + +<p>"Well," the priest said, stepping back. "Well, well. +You ought to be all right now, young fellow—right as +rain."</p> + +<p>Forrester said: "Thanks."</p> + +<p>"Might feel a little soreness—tenderness, you might +say—for a day or so. Only a day or so, tenderness," the +priest said. "After that, right as rain. Right as you'll +ever be. <i>All</i> right, as a matter of fact: all right."</p> + +<p>Forrester said: "Thanks."</p> + +<p>The priest went to the door, turned, and said to the +High Priestess: "Hermes' blessing on you both, as a +matter of fact, as they say. Blessings from Hermes on +you both."</p> + +<p>The High Priestess nodded regally.</p> + +<p>"And," the priest said, "merely by the way, as it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +might be, without meaning harm, if you would ask a +blessing for me—Aphrodite's blessing? Easy for you. +Of course, it would be nice curing—curing, as they say—stupidity, +plain dumbness, as they call such things—curing +stupidity as easily as I can cure small ills. Nice."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," the High Priestess said.</p> + +<p>"But there," the priest went on. "Only the Gods can +cure that. Only the Gods and no one else. Yes. Hm. +And not often. They don't do anything like that in the—ah—regular +course of things. As a matter of fact, you +might say, I've never heard of—never heard of such a +case. Never. Not one. Yet ..." He opened the door, +spat: "Myrmidons!" and disappeared into the hallway.</p> + +<p>The door banged shut.</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed heavily. The High Priestess turned +to him.</p> + +<p>"Feel better?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Much," Forrester said, dreading the ordeal to come.</p> + +<p>The High Priestess came over to the couch and sat +down next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder. +"Shall we prepare for the—sacrifice?"</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed again. "Sure," he said. "Naturally."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When she was locked in his arms, it was as if time +had started all over again. Forrester responded to the +eagerness of the woman as he'd never dreamed he could +respond; all his tiredness dropped away as if it had +never been, and he was a new man. He touched her +bare flesh and felt the heat of her through his fingers +and hands; with his arms around her nakedness he +rolled, locked to her, feeling the friction of skin against +skin and the magnificence of her.</p> + +<p>The sacrifice went on ... and on ... and on into +endless time and endless space. Forrester thrust and +gasped at the woman and her head went back, her +mouth pulled open as she shivered and responded to +him....<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forever....</p> + +<p>Until finally they lay, panting, in the magnificent +room. Forrester rose first, vaguely surprised at himself. +He found a towel in a closet at the far end of the room +and wiped his damp forehead slowly.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said. "That was quite a sacrifice. What +next?"</p> + +<p>The High Priestess raised herself on one elbow and +stared across the room at him. "There is no need for +such familiarity, Forrester," she said. "Not from a lay +acolyte."</p> + +<p>Forrester tossed the towel onto a couch. "My apologies, +Your Concupiscence. I'm a little—light-headed. +But what happens next?"</p> + +<p>The High Priestess reached into the diaphanous pile +of her clothing and came up with a small diamond-encrusted +watch she wore, usually, on her wrist. "Our +timing was almost perfect," she said. "It is now twenty-hundred +hours. The Goddess expects you at twenty-oh-one +exactly."</p> + +<p>A hurried half-minute passed. Then, fully dressed, +Forrester went with the High Priestess to a golden +door half-hidden in the hangings at the side of the +room. She made a series of mystical signs: the circle, +the serpent and others Forrester couldn't quite follow.</p> + +<p>She opened the door, genuflecting as she did so, and +Forrester dropped to one knee behind her, looking at +the doorway.</p> + +<p>It was filled with a pale blue haze that looked like +the clear summer sky on a hot day. Except that it wasn't +sky, but a curtain that wavered and shimmered before +his eyes. Beyond it, he could see nothing.</p> + +<p>The High Priestess rose from her genuflection and +Forrester followed suit. There was a sole second of +silence.</p> + +<p>Then the High Priestess said: "You are to step through +the Veil of Heaven, William Forrester."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forrester said: "<i>Me?</i> Through the <i>Veil of Heaven</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid," she said. "And don't try to touch +the Veil. Just walk through as if nothing at all were +there."</p> + +<p>Forrester filled his lungs as though he were going +to take a very high dive. He thought: <i>Here goes nothing</i>. +That was all; there wasn't time for anything else.</p> + +<p>He stepped into the blue haze, and had a sudden +sensation of falling.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> + + +<p class="cap">There was a tingle like a mild electric shock. Forrester +opened his mouth and then closed it again +as the tingle stopped, and the sense of falling simply +died away. He had closed his eyes on the way into +the curtain, and now he opened them again.</p> + +<p>He closed them very quickly, counted to ten, and +took a deep breath. Then he opened them to look at +the room he was in.</p> + +<p>It was unlike any room he had ever seen before. It +didn't have the opulence of the High Priestess's rooms. +I am a room, it seemed to say, and a room is what I +was meant to be. I don't have to draw attention to +myself like my poorer sisters. I am content merely to +exist as the room of rooms, the very type and image +of the Ideal Enclosure.</p> + +<p>The floors and walk of the place seemed to blend +into each other at odd angles. Forrester's eyes couldn't +quite follow them or understand them, and judging +the size of the room was out of the question. There was +a golden wash of light filling the room, though it +didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular. It +was, in fact, as if the room itself were shining. Forrester<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +blinked and rubbed his eyes. The light, or whatever +it was, was changing color.</p> + +<p>Gradually, he realized that it went on doing that. +He wasn't sure that he liked it, but it was certainly +different. The colors went from gold to pale rose to +violet to blue, and so on, back to gold again, while +little eddies and swirls of light sparkled into rainbows +here and there.</p> + +<p>Forrester began to feel dizzy again.</p> + +<p>There were various objects standing around here and +there in the room, but Forrester couldn't quite tell what +they were. Even their sizes were difficult to judge, +because of the shifting light and shape of the room +itself. There was only one thing that seemed reasonably +certain.</p> + +<p>He was alone in the room.</p> + +<p>Set in one wall was a square of light that didn't +change color quite as much as everything else. Forrester +judged it to be a window and headed for it. With his +first step, he discovered something else about the place.</p> + +<p>The carpeting was completely unique. Instead of +fiber, the floor seemed to have been covered a foot +deep with foam rubber. Forrester didn't exactly walk +to the window; he bounced there. The sensation was +almost enjoyable, he thought, when you got used to it. +He wondered just how long it took to get used to it +and settled on eighty years as a good first guess.</p> + +<p>He stood in front of the window. He looked out.</p> + +<p>He saw nothing but clouds and sky.</p> + +<p>It took a long while for him to decide what to do +next, and when he finally did come to a decision, it +was the wrong one.</p> + +<p>He looked down.</p> + +<p>Below him there were tumbled rocks, ledges of ice +and snow, clouds and—far, far below—the flat land of +the Earth. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he couldn't. +The whole vast stomach-churning panorama spread out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +beneath him endlessly. The people below, if there were +any, weren't even big enough to be ants. They were +completely invisible. Forrester took a deep breath and +gripped the side ledges of the window.</p> + +<p>And a voice behind him said: "Welcome, Mortal."</p> + +<p>Forrester almost went through the window. But he +managed to regain his balance and turn around, saying +angrily: "Don't <i>do</i> that!" As the last of the words left +his lips, he became aware of the smiling figure facing +him.</p> + +<p>She was standing in a spotlight, Forrester thought +at first. Then he saw that the light was coming from +the woman herself—or from her clothing. The dress she +wore was a satinlike sheath that glowed with an aura +even brighter than the room. Her blonde hair picked +up the radiance and glowed, too, illuminating a face +that was at once regal, inviting and passionate. It was, +Forrester thought, a hell of a disturbing combination.</p> + +<p>The cloth of the dress clung to her figure as if it +wanted to. Forrester didn't blame it a bit; the dress +showed off a figure that was not only beyond his wildest +dreams, but a long way beyond what he had hitherto +regarded as the bounds of possibility. From shoulder +to toe, she was perfection.</p> + +<p>This was also true of the woman from shoulder to +crown.</p> + +<p>Forrester gulped and, automatically, went on one +knee.</p> + +<p>"Please," he murmured. "Pardon me. I didn't +mean—"</p> + +<p>"Quite all right," the Goddess murmured. "I understand +perfectly."</p> + +<p>"But I—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind all that now," Venus said, with just a +hint of impatience. "Rise, William Forrester—or you +who were William Forrester."</p> + +<p>Forrester rose. Sweat was pouring down his face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +He made no effort to wipe it away. "Were?" he asked, +dazed. "But that's my name!"</p> + +<p>"It <i>was</i>," Venus said, in the same calm tone. "Henceforth, +your name is Dionysus."</p> + +<p>Forrester took a while to remember to swallow. "Dionysus?" +he said at last.</p> + +<p>There was another silence.</p> + +<p>Forrester, feeling that perhaps his first question could +use some amplification, said: "Dionysus? Bacchus? You +mean me?"</p> + +<p>"Quite right," Venus said. "That will be your name, +and you'd better begin getting used to it."</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute!" he said. "I don't mean to be +disrespectful, but something occurs to me. I mean, it's +the first thing I thought of, and I'm probably wrong, +but just let me ask the questions, if you don't mind, +and maybe some of this will make some sense. Because +just a few hours ago I was doing very nicely on my +own and I—"</p> + +<p>"What are your questions?" Venus said.</p> + +<p>Forrester swayed. "Dionysus/Bacchus himself," he +said. "Won't he mind my—"</p> + +<p>Venus laughed. "Mind your using his name? My +goodness, no."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"It's all because of the orgies," Venus said.</p> + +<p>Everything, he told himself, was getting just a little +too much for him. "Orgies?" he said.</p> + +<p>Venus nodded. "You see, there are all those orgies held +in his honor. You know about those, of course."</p> + +<p>"Sure I do," Forrester said, watching everything narrowly. +In just a few seconds, he told himself hopefully, +the whole room would vanish and he would be in a nice, +peaceful insane asylum.</p> + +<p>"Well, it isn't impossible for a God to be at all the +orgies held in his honor," Venus said. "Naturally not. But,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +at the same time, they are all rather boring—for a God, I +mean. And that's why you're here," she finished.</p> + +<p>Forrester said: "Oh." And then he said: "Oh?" The +room hadn't disappeared yet, but he was willing to give +it time.</p> + +<p>"Dionysus," Venus said patiently, as if she were explaining +the matter to a small and rather ugly child, "gets +tired of appearing at the orgies. He wants someone to +take his place."</p> + +<p>The silence after that sentence was a very long one. +Forrester could think of nothing to say but: "<i>Me?</i>"</p> + +<p>"You will be raised to the status of Godling," Venus +said. "You remember Hercules and Achilles, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Never met them," Forrester said vacantly.</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Venus said. "They were, however, ancient +heroes, raised to the status of Godling, just as you yourself +will be. However, you will not be honored or worshipped +under your own name."</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. "Naturally," he said, wondering what +he was talking about. There was, he realized, the possibility +that he was not insane after all, but he didn't +want to think about that. It was much too painful.</p> + +<p>"You will receive instructions in the use of certain +powers," Venus said. "These will enable you to perform +your new duties."</p> + +<p>Duties.</p> + +<p>The word carried a strange connotation. Dionysus/Bacchus +was the God of wine, among other things, and +women and song had been thrown in as an afterthought. +The duties of a stand-in for a God like that sounded just +a little bit overwhelming.</p> + +<p>"These—duties," he said. "Will they be temporary or +permanent?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Venus said, "that depends." She smiled at him +sweetly.</p> + +<p>"Depends?"</p> + +<p>"So far," Venus said, "our testing shows that you are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +capable of handling certain of the duties to be entrusted +to you. But, for the rest, everything depends on your own +talents and devotion."</p> + +<p>"Ah," Forrester said, and then: "Testing?"</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose that we would pick a mortal for an +important job like this without making certain that he +was capable of doing the job, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Frankly," Forrester said, "I haven't got around to +supposing anything yet."</p> + +<p>Venus smiled again. "We have tested you," she said, +"and so far you appear perfectly capable of exercising your +powers."</p> + +<p>Forrester blinked. "Exercising?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. As a street brawler, for instance, you do +exceptionally well."</p> + +<p>"As a—"</p> + +<p>"How does your face feel?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"My what?" Forrester said. "Oh. Face. Fine. Street +brawls, you said?"</p> + +<p>"I did," Venus said. "My goodness, the way you bashed +that one bruiser with your drink—that was really excellent. +As a matter of fact, I feel it incumbent on me to +tell you that I haven't enjoyed a fight so much in years."</p> + +<p>Wondering whether he should be complimented or just +a little ashamed of himself, Forrester said nothing at all. +The idea that he had been under the personal supervision +of Aphrodite herself bothered him more than he could +say. The brawl was the first thing that came to mind. It +didn't seem like the sort of thing a Goddess of Love +ought to have been watching.</p> + +<p>And then he thought of the High Priestess.</p> + +<p>He felt a blush creeping up around his collar, and was +thankful only that it was not visible under the tan of his +skin. He remembered who had ordered the sacrificial +rites, and thought bitterly and guiltily about spectator +sports.</p> + +<p>But his face remained perfectly calm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So far," Venus said, "I must say that you have come +through with flying colors. You should be proud of +yourself."</p> + +<p>Forrester didn't feel exactly proud. He wanted to crawl +into a hole and die there.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I—"</p> + +<p>"But there is more," Aphrodite said.</p> + +<p>"More?"</p> + +<p>The idea didn't sound attractive. In spite of what one +of the tests had involved, the notion of any more tests was +just a little fatiguing. Besides, Forrester was not at all +sure that he would be at his best, when he knew that +dispassionate observers were chronicling his technique +and his every movement.</p> + +<p>How much more, he wondered, could he take?</p> + +<p>And, he reflected, how much more of <i>what</i>?</p> + +<p>"We must be certain," Aphrodite said, "that you can +prove yourself worthy of the dignity of a Godling."</p> + +<p>"Ah," Forrester said cleverly. "So there are going to be +more tests?"</p> + +<p>"There are," Venus said. "After all, you will be expected +to act as the <i>alter persona</i> of Dionysus. That involves +responsibilities almost beyond the ken of a mortal."</p> + +<p>Wine, Forrester thought wildly, women and song.</p> + +<p>He wondered if he were going to be asked to sing +something. He couldn't remember anything except the +<i>Star Spangled Banner</i> and an exceptionally silly rhyme +from his childhood. Neither of them seemed just right for +the occasion.</p> + +<p>"You must learn to behave as a true God," Venus said. +"And we must know whether you are fitted for the part."</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. The one thing keeping him sane, he +reflected, was the hope of insanity. But the room was still +there, and Venus was standing near him, talking quietly +away.</p> + +<p>"Thus," she said, "there must be further tests, so that +we may be sure of your capacities."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>Capacities? Just what was <i>that</i> supposed to mean? "I +see," he lied. "And suppose I fail?"</p> + +<p>"Fail?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose I don't live up to expectations," Forrester +said.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," Venus declared, "I'm afraid the Gods +might be angry with you."</p> + +<p>Forrester had no doubt whatever as to the meaning of +the words. Either he lived up to expectations or he didn't +live at all. The Gods' anger was not a small affair, and it +seldom satisfied itself with small results. When a God +got angry with you, you simply hoped the result would +be quick. You didn't really dare hope it would also be +temporary.</p> + +<p>Forrester passed a hand over his forehead. If he had +been doing his own picking, he thought a little sadly, the +job of tryout stand-in for Dionysus was not the job he +would have chosen. But then, the choice wasn't his, and +it never had been. It was the Gods who had picked him.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, if he failed, the mistake wouldn't be laid +at the door of the Gods. It would be laid at the door of +William Forrester, together with a nice, big, black funeral +wreath.</p> + +<p>But it didn't sound too bad at that, he told himself +hopefully. After all, it wasn't every day that a man was +offered the job of stand-in for a God, not every day that +a man was offered the chance of passing a lot of strenuous +and embarrassing tests, and dying if he failed.</p> + +<p>He told himself sternly to look on the positive side, but +all he could think of was the succession of tests still to +come. What would they be like? How could he ever pass +them all? What would be thought necessary to establish +a man as a first-rate double for Dionysus?</p> + +<p>Looks, he thought, were obviously the first thing, and +he certainly had those. For a second he almost wished he +could see Ed Symes and apologize for getting mad when +Ed had told him he looked like Bacchus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>But then, he reflected, he didn't want to go too far. +The idea of apologizing to Ed Symes, no matter who his +sister was, made Forrester's gorge rise about five and a +half feet.</p> + +<p>"However," Aphrodite went on, as if she had just +thought of something too unimportant to bother mentioning, +"don't worry about it. My father's thunderbolt +needn't concern you. I have every confidence that you +will prove yourself."</p> + +<p>She smiled radiantly at him.</p> + +<p>The idea occurred to Forrester that she just didn't +think that a mortal's mortality was important. But the +idea didn't stay long. Being reassured by a Goddess, he +told himself confusedly, was very reassuring.</p> + +<p>Venus was looking him up and down speculatively, +and Forrester suddenly thought a new test was coming. +A little gentle sweat began to break out on his forehead +again, but his face stayed calm. He took a deep breath +and tried to concentrate on gathering strength. The +High Priestess had been something special but, Forrester +thought, she had not really called out his <i>all</i>. Venus was +clearly another matter.</p> + +<p>But Venus said only: "Those clothes," in a considering +sort of tone.</p> + +<p>"Clothes?" Forrester said, trying to readjust in a hurry.</p> + +<p>"You certainly can't go in those clothes. Hera would +object quite violently, I'm afraid. She's awfully stuffy +about such things."</p> + +<p>The intimate details about the Gods intrigued Forrester. +"Stuffy? Hera?"</p> + +<p>"Confidentially," Venus said, "at times, the All-Mother +can be an absolute bitch."</p> + +<p>She went over to one of the light-swirled walls, and a +part of the light seemed to fade as she did so. Of course, +she did nothing so crude as opening a door. When she +started for the wall there was no closet apparent there, +but when she arrived it was there, solid, and open.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was just that simple.</p> + +<p>She took out a white robe and started back. Forrester +took his eyes from her with an effort and watched the +closet disappear again. By the time she had reached him, +it was only a part of the swirling wall again.</p> + +<p>And the hospital attendants were nowhere in sight.</p> + +<p>She handed Forrester the robe. He took it warily, but +it seemed real enough. At any rate, it was as real as +anything else that was happening to him, he thought.</p> + +<p>It was a simple tunic, cut in the style of the ancient +Greek <i>chiton</i>, and open at one side instead of the front. +Forrester turned it in his hands. At the waist and shoulder +there was a golden clasp to hold it in place. The clasp +wasn't figured in any special way. The material itself was +odd: it was an almost fluorescent white and, though it +was perfectly opaque, it was thinner than any paper +Forrester had ever seen in public. It almost didn't seem +to be there when he rubbed it between his thumb and +forefinger.</p> + +<p>"Well, don't just stand there," Venus said. "Get started."</p> + +<p>"Started?" Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"Get dressed. The others are waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"Others?"</p> + +<p>But she didn't answer. Forrester looked frantically +around the room for anything that looked even remotely +like a dressing room. As a last resort, he was willing to +settle for a screen. No room, no screen. He was willing +to settle for a chair he could crouch behind. There was +none.</p> + +<p>He looked hopefully at the Goddess. Perhaps, he +thought, she would leave while he dressed. She showed +no sign of doing so. He cleared his throat and jerked at +his collar nervously.</p> + +<p>"Now, now," Venus said sternly. "Don't tell me the +presence of your Goddess embarrasses you." She raised +her head imperiously. "Hurry it up."</p> + +<p>Very slowly, he began taking off his clothes. There was,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +after all, nothing to be ashamed of, he told himself. As a +matter of fact, Venus ought to be getting used to the sight +of him undressing by this time.</p> + +<p>Somehow, he finally managed to get the <i>chiton</i> on +straight. Venus looked him over and nodded her approval.</p> + +<p>"Come along now," she said. "They're waiting for us. +And one thing: don't get nervous, for Hera's sake. You're +all right."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said. "Sure. Perfectly all right. Right +as rain."</p> + +<p>"Well, you are. As a matter of fact, I think you'll make +a fine Dionysus."</p> + +<p>She led him toward a wall opposite where the closet +had been. As they approached it, a section of it became +bluer and bluer. With a sinking feeling, Forrester told +himself that he knew what was coming.</p> + +<p>He did. The wall dissolved into the shimmering blue +haze of a Veil of Heaven, just like the one that had +transported him from New York to his present position. +Where that was, he wasn't entirely sure, but remembering +his one look out the window, he suspected it was Mount +Olympus.</p> + +<p>But there wasn't any time for thinking. Venus took his +hand coolly as they reached the blue haze. Then both of +them stepped through.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">The room into which they stepped seemed even larger +than the one they had left. The distances were just +as hard to measure, and why Forrester had the feeling, +he couldn't have said, but it did feel larger. The sense of +enormous space hung over it.</p> + +<p>The wall colors were just the same, however, dripping +and changing in a continuous flow of patterns, with the +little sunbursts and rainbows appearing here and there +without any visible reason.</p> + +<p>But the room itself was comparatively unimportant, +Forrester knew. It was what went on in the room that +sent shivers up his spine, and instructed one knee to start +knocking against other one. He had heard of the Court +of the Gods, though as far as he knew no mortal had ever +seen it. There were certainly no photographs of it, even +in the most exhaustive travel books.</p> + +<p>Forrester knew without question that he was standing +in that Courtroom. The knowledge did not make him +calm. And the beings sitting and reclining on couches +along the shimmering walls made him feel even worse. +He recognized every one of them, and every one sent a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +new shock of awe running through his nerves. His +stomach felt like a hard rubber handball.</p> + +<p>There was Zeus All-Father, with his great, silvery, +ringleted beard. His hands were combing through it and +he was frowning majestically into the distance. Next to +him was the imperious Hera, Mother of the Gods. She sat +with her hands folded in her lap, as if she were waiting +for the end of the world to be announced. There was +Mars, tough and hairy-chested, scratching his side with +one hand and scowling horribly. His fierce, bearded face +looked somehow out of place without the battle helmet +that usually topped it. The horned and goat-legged Pan +was there, and Vulcan, crippled and ugly with his squat +body and giant arms, reclining like an ape on a couch all +alone, and motherly looking Ceres using one hand to pat +her hair as if she, not Forrester, were the nervous one.</p> + +<p>Athena was there, too, lovely and gray-eyed. She +seemed to be smiling at him with special favor, and +Forrester felt grateful.</p> + +<p>He needed all the help he could get.</p> + +<p>But the other Gods were absent. Where were they? +Pluto and Phoebus Apollo were missing, and so were +Mercury, Neptune, Dionysus and Diana.</p> + +<p>And ...</p> + +<p>"Ah," the great voice of Zeus boomed, as Forrester and +Venus stepped through the Veil. Forrester heard the +voice and shuddered. "The mortal is here," Zeus went on +in his awe-inspiring roar. "Welcome, Mortal!"</p> + +<p>Forrester opened his mouth, but Hera got in ahead +of him.</p> + +<p>She leaned over to her divine husband and hissed, in a +tone audible to everyone in the room: "Don't belabor the +obvious, dear. Enough's enough."</p> + +<p>"It is?" Zeus said. The roar was exactly the same. "I'm +not at all sure. No! Of course not. Naturally not, my +dear. Naturally not." He looked around slowly, nodding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +his great head. "Now, now. Let's see. Do we have a +quorum? I don't see Morpheus. Where's Morpheus?"</p> + +<p>"Asleep, as usual," Mars growled. He finished scratching +his side and began on his beard. "Where else would +the old fool be? He's nothing but a bore anyway and I +say to Hades with him. Let's get on."</p> + +<p>"Now, Ares," Pallas Athena said mildly. "Don't be +crude."</p> + +<p>"Crude?" Mars bellowed. "All I said was that the old +bore's not here. It's true, isn't it? What in Hades is so +crude about it?"</p> + +<p>"Hah!" Vulcan growled, in a bass voice that seemed +to come from the bottom of a large barrel. "Look who +mentions being a bore."</p> + +<p>"Why, you—" Mars started.</p> + +<p>"Children!" Hera snapped at once.</p> + +<p>There was quiet, and Forrester had time to get dizzy. +Maybe, he thought, he had been traveling too much. +After all, he had started in New York, and then he had +found himself on what he suspected was Mount Olympus, +in Greece. And now he was somewhere else.</p> + +<p>He wasn't entirely sure where. The Court of the Gods +existed; he knew that. But he had never heard just where +it existed, and it was entirely possible that no mortal +knew. In which case, Forrester thought confusedly, I +don't even know where I am.</p> + +<p>For the first time, he began to think seriously that, +perhaps, he was sane after all. Maybe everything he was +seeing and hearing was true. It was certainly beginning +to look that way. And, in that case, maybe the dizziness +he felt was just airsickness, or spacesickness, or whatever +kind of sickness came from traveling through those blue +Veils.</p> + +<p>At least, he told himself, thinking of the old man he +had met on the way downtown, at least it beat the +subway.</p> + +<p>He looked behind him. He and Venus were standing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +in the center of the room. There was no blue veil behind +them. It had, apparently, done its duty and gone away.</p> + +<p>The subway, Forrester told himself solemnly, didn't +do that.</p> + +<p>Zeus cleared his throat ponderously. "I count eight of +us," he said. "Eight, all told. Of course, that's eight +without the mortal." He paused, and then added: "If +you count the mortal in, there are nine."</p> + +<p>Pan stirred. "That's a quorum," he announced in a +hoarse voice that had a heavy vibrato in it. It reminded +Forrester, oddly, of the bleating of a goat. Pan crossed +his legs and his hooves clashed, striking sparks. "Pluto +and Poseidon said they'd accept our judgment."</p> + +<p>"Why the absence?" Vulcan said shortly.</p> + +<p>"A storm, I think," Pan said. "Out in the North Atlantic, +if memory serves—and it does. As far as I recall, there are +four ships sunk so far. Quite an affair."</p> + +<p>Vulcan said: "Ah," and reclined again.</p> + +<p>Hera leaned forward. "Where's Apollo? He said he +might come."</p> + +<p>"Sure he did," Mars said heavily. "Old Sunshine Boy +never misses a bit of excitement. Only he probably found +something even more exciting. He's in California, all +dressed up as a mortal."</p> + +<p>"California?" Ceres said. "My goodness, what would +that boy be doing in California?"</p> + +<p>Mars guffawed. "Probably showing off—how Sunshine +Boy loves to show off! Displaying that gorgeous body to +the girls on Muscle Beach, I'll bet."</p> + +<p>"Eight to five," Pan said at once.</p> + +<p>Mars turned to him and nodded shortly. "Done."</p> + +<p>"Now, if I were a betting man," Vulcan began in a +thoughtful bass, "I'd—"</p> + +<p>"We all know what you'd do, Gimpy," Mars roared. +"But you won't do it, so shut up about it."</p> + +<p>"Please," Hera said. "Order." Her voice was like chilled +steel. The others settled back. "I think we're ready. Shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +we begin, dear?" She looked at Zeus, who got ready to +start. But before he could get a word out, there was a +flicker of blue energy in the room, a couple of yards +away from Forrester and Venus. The flicker expanded to +a Veil, and a man stepped out of it.</p> + +<p>He was a short, fat individual wearing a <i>chiton</i> as if +he had slept in it for three or four weeks. His face was +puffy and his golden hair was ruffled. His eyelids seemed +to have acquired a permanent half-mast, and beneath +them the eyes were bleary and disinterested.</p> + +<p>Forrester needed no introductions to Morpheus, the +God of Sleep.</p> + +<p>The God looked around at the assembled company with +a kindly little smile on his tired face. Then, slowly and +luxuriously, he yawned. When his mouth closed again, +after a view of caverns measureless to man, he rubbed at +his eyes with his knuckles, and then heaved a great sigh +and, apparently, resigned himself to the terrible effort +of speech.</p> + +<p>"I'm late," he said. "But it's really not my fault."</p> + +<p>"Oh?" Hera said in a nasty tone of voice.</p> + +<p>Morpheus shook his head slowly from side to side. "It +really isn't." His voice was terribly calm. It was obvious, +Forrester thought, that he did not give a damn. "The +alarm just didn't seem to go off again. Or else I didn't +hear it."</p> + +<p>"Now, Morpheus," Hera said. "I should think you'd get +some kind of alarm that really worked, after all this +time."</p> + +<p>"Why bother?" Morpheus said, and shrugged ponderously. +"Anyhow, I'm here." He yawned again. "The +thing's tiresome, but I did say I'd be here, and here I am. +Now, does that satisfy everybody? Because if it doesn't, +I do have some sleep to catch up on."</p> + +<p>"It satisfies us all," Hera said with some asperity. "Go +sit down."</p> + +<p>Morpheus shambled quietly over to a couch near Mars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +He lowered himself onto it, and slowly slipped from a +sitting position to a reclining one.</p> + +<p>"Well," Hera said to Zeus, "we're ready, dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Zeus said. "Oh. Certainly. I declare this meeting—I +declare this meeting fully met." He cleared his throat +with a rumble that shook the air. "We're here, as I suppose +you all know, to consider the problem of William Forrester. +But first, I am reminded of a little story I picked +up on Earth, and in the hopes that some of you here +might not have heard it, I—"</p> + +<p>"We've heard it," Hera said, "and, anyhow, this is +neither the time nor the place."</p> + +<p>Zeus turned to look at her. He shrugged. "Very well," +he said equably. "Let us return to William Forrester, as +a possible substitute for Dionysus. The first consideration +ought to be the psychological records, wouldn't you say?"</p> + +<p>"I would," Hera said through her teeth.</p> + +<p>"I believe Athena is in charge of that department, and +if she is ready to report—"</p> + +<p>"Of course she's ready," Hera said, "dear."</p> + +<p>Zeus nodded. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?"</p> + +<p>Athena got up and faced the company. "In general," +she began at once, "I think we can pass the candidate +completely on the psychological records. The Index of +Subordination is low, but we don't want one too high +for this post. Too, the Beta curve shows a good deal of +variation, a Dionysian characteristic. There is, perhaps, a +stronger sense of responsibility than is recorded in the +Dionysian index, but this may not be a handicap."</p> + +<p>"By no means," Hera said. "Responsibility is something +we could all do with more of, around here." She shot a +poisonous glance at Morpheus, whose eyes were now +completely closed.</p> + +<p>Forrester, busily wondering what his Beta curve was, +and why it varied, and what he would do if he lost it +and had to get another one, missed the next few words<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +of Athena's report. The word that did impinge on his +consciousness did so with a shock.</p> + +<p>"Sex," Athena said. "But, after all, that is not quite in +my department." She looked as if she were very glad of +the fact. "In general, as I say, the psychological tests +present no insuperable barriers."</p> + +<p>"Fine," Hera said. She dug Zeus in the ribs again.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Zeus said. "Yes. Fine."</p> + +<p>"Next," Hera said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Zeus said. "By all means. Next."</p> + +<p>Mars got up. He was now scratching the hair on his +chest. He looked around at the others with a definitely +unfriendly expression.</p> + +<p>"The physical department is mine," he said. "The +candidate can handle himself, all right. There isn't much +doubt of it." He burped, wiped his mouth with the back +of one hand, and went on: "Of course, he's let himself +run to fat a little here and there, but it isn't really serious. +Mainly a matter of glandular balance or something like +that, as far as I understand Hermes' report."</p> + +<p>Forrester began to feel like a prize chicken.</p> + +<p>"And physical training," Mars said. "Well, there hasn't +<i>been</i> any training, that's all. And that's bad."</p> + +<p>"He is not being considered for your position," Vulcan +said. "One muscular brainless imbecile is enough."</p> + +<p>Mars took a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"Please," Hera said. "Continue the report."</p> + +<p>The breath came out in an explosion. "All right," Mars +said. "Discounting the training end of things, and assuming +that Hermes can fix up the glandular mess, I think +he can pass the physical."</p> + +<p>Forrester wasn't sure that he liked being referred to as +a glandular mess. On the other hand, he asked himself, +what could he do about it? He stood quietly, wondering +what was coming next.</p> + +<p>His worst fears were fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Venus stepped forward and gave her report. Basically,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +it was a codicil, of a rather specialized nature, to the +physical report. While it was going on, Forrester glanced +at Athena. She looked every bit as embarrassed as he felt, +and her face wore a look of sheer pain. Once he thought +she was going to leave the room, but she remained +grimly seated until it was all over.</p> + +<p>Forrester couldn't figure out, when he thought about +it, how the Gods had managed to give him all these tests +without his knowing anything about it. But, then, they +were supernatural, weren't they? And they had their own +methods. A mortal didn't have to understand them.</p> + +<p>Forrester wasn't sure he was happy with that idea, but +he clung to it. It was the only one he had.</p> + +<p>When Venus finished her report, there was a little +silence.</p> + +<p>"Any other comments?" Hera whispered to her +husband.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," Zeus said. "Other comments. If anyone has +any other comments to make, please make them now. +Now is the time to make them."</p> + +<p>He sat back. Morpheus stirred slightly and spoke without +opening his eyes or sitting up. "Sleep," he said.</p> + +<p>Hera said: "Sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Very important," Morpheus said slowly, "the candidate +sleeps pretty well—soundly, as a matter of fact. The only +trouble is that he doesn't get enough sleep. But then, no +one on this entire crazy world ever does." He yawned and +added: "Not even me."</p> + +<p>Forrester passed a hand over his forehead. He realized, +very suddenly, that he had come to a conclusion somewhere +during the meeting. He was, he told himself, +definitely sane.</p> + +<p>That left another conclusion. He was not dreaming +anything that was happening. It was all perfectly real.</p> + +<p>And he was about to become a demi-God.</p> + +<p>That in itself didn't sound so bad. But he began to +wonder, in a quiet sort of way, just what was going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +happen to William Forrester, acolyte and history professor, +when Forrester/Bacchus had became a reality. With +a blunt shock he knew that there was only one answer.</p> + +<p>William Forrester was going to die.</p> + +<p>It didn't matter what the verdict of the Gods was. +There were more tests coming, he knew, and if he failed +them the Gods would kill him quite literally and quite +completely.</p> + +<p>But, he went on, suppose he passed the tests.</p> + +<p>In that case he was going to become Forrester/Bacchus, +a substitute God. Plain old Bill Forrester would +cease to exist entirely.</p> + +<p>Oh, a few traces might remain—his Beta curve, for +instance, whatever that was. But Bill Forrester would be +gone. Somehow, the idea of a revenant Beta curve didn't +make up for the basic loss.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, he reminded himself again, what +choice did he have?</p> + +<p>None.</p> + +<p>He forced himself to listen to what the Gods were +saying.</p> + +<p>Zeus cleared his throat. "Well, I think that closes the +subject. Am I right, dear?"</p> + +<p>"You are," Hera said.</p> + +<p>"Very well," Zeus said. "Then the subject is closed, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Hera nodded wearily.</p> + +<p>"In that case, we can proceed with the investiture. +Hephaestus, will you please take charge of the candidate?"</p> + +<p>Hephaestus/Vulcan sighed softly. "I suppose I must." +He swung off the couch and stood half-crouched for a +second. Forrester looked at him blankly. "Well," Vulcan +said, "come on." He jerked his head toward Forrester. +"Over here."</p> + +<p>With one last backward glance at Venus, Forrester +walked across the room. Vulcan turned and hobbled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +ahead of him toward the wall. Forrester followed until, +almost at the wall, a Veil of Heaven appeared. Feeling +almost used to the thing by now, Forrester followed +Vulcan through, and he didn't even look behind him to +see if the Veil had vanished after they'd come through. +He knew perfectly well it had. It always did.</p> + +<p>The room they had entered was similar to the others +he had seen, but there was no change of colors. The walls +glowed evenly and with a subdued light that filled the +room evenly. And, for the first time, the walls weren't +simply blanks that became things only when approached. +The strangest-looking objects Forrester had ever seen +filled benches, tables, chairs and the floor, and some were +even tacked to the glowing walls. He stared at them for +a long time.</p> + +<p>No two were alike. They seemed to be all sizes, shapes +and materials. The only thing they really had in common +was that they were unrecognizable. They looked, Forrester +thought, as if a truckload of non-objective twentieth-century +sculpture had collided with another truck +full of old television-set innards. Then, in some way, the +two trucks had fallen in love and had children.</p> + +<p>The scrambled horrors scattered throughout the room +were, Forrester told himself bleakly, the children.</p> + +<p>Vulcan sat down on the only empty chair with a sigh. +"This is my workshop," he announced gravely. "It is not +arranged for visitors, nor for the curious. I must advise +you to touch nothing, if you wish to save your hands, your +sanity, and very possibly your life."</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded dumbly. Vulcan's tone hadn't been +unfriendly; he had merely been warning a stranger, in +the shortest and clearest manner possible, against the +dangers of feeling the merchandise. Not, Forrester +thought, that the warning was necessary. He would as +soon have thought of trying to fly as he would of touching +one of the mixed-up looking things.</p> + +<p>"Now," Vulcan said, "if you'll—" He stopped. "Pardon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +me," he said, and levered himself upright. He went to a +chair, swept a few constructions from it and put them +carefully on a table. "Sit down," he said, motioning to the +chair.</p> + +<p>Gingerly, Forrester sat down.</p> + +<p>Vulcan returned to his own chair and climbed onto it. +"Now let us get to business."</p> + +<p>"Business?" Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Vulcan said. "I imagine you were pretty +well bewildered for a while. No more than natural. But I +think you've figured it out by now. You know you are +going to be given the powers of a demi-God, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But—"</p> + +<p>"Do not worry about it," Vulcan said. "The powers +are—simply powers. They are not burdens. At any rate, +they will not be burdensome to you. We know that—we +have researched you to a fine point, as you may have +gathered from the fol-de-rol back there." He gestured +toward his right, evidently indicating the Court of the +Gods.</p> + +<p>"But," Forrester said, "suppose I'm not what your tests +say. I mean, suppose I—"</p> + +<p>"There is no need for supposition. Beyond any shadow +of doubt, we know how you, as a mortal, will react to +any conceivable set of circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Precisely. You have realized what yet needs to be +done. We know what your abilities and limitations are—<i>as +a mortal</i>. The tests you have yet to pass are concerned +with your actions and reactions as a demi-God."</p> + +<p>Forrester swallowed hard. He felt as if he were on a +moving roller-coaster. No matter how badly he wanted to +get off, it was impossible to do so. He had to remain +while the car hurtled on.</p> + +<p>And where was he going?</p> + +<p>The Gods, he told himself with more than ordinary +meaning, knew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The power which is to be infused into you," Vulcan +said, "if you don't mind the loose terminology—"</p> + +<p>"I don't mind in the least," Forrester assured him +earnestly. "Not in the least."</p> + +<p>"The power infused into you will make some changes. +These will not only be physical changes. Mental changes +must be expected."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said. "Mental changes."</p> + +<p>"Correct. Physically, you see, you will become what no +mortal can ever quite be: a perfectly functioning biological +engine. Every sinew, nerve and muscle, every organ +and gland, every tissue in your body will be in perfect +harmonic balance with every other. Metabolically speaking, +your catabolism and anabolism will be in such +perfect balance that aging will not be possible."</p> + +<p>Forrester thought that over. "I'll be immortal," he said.</p> + +<p>"In that sense of the word," Vulcan said, "you will. You +will be, as a matter of fact, quite a good deal tougher, +stronger and harder than any animal now existing on the +face of the Earth. I must except, of course, a few of the +really big ones, like the elephant and the killer whale."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said. "Sure."</p> + +<p>"But make no mistake. You can still be killed. A bullet +through the heart will not do the job; it will merely incapacitate +you for a few hours. But if you were to have +your head blown off by a grenade, you would be quite +dead. Remember that."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I could forget it."</p> + +<p>"You will heal with incredible rapidity, but there are +limitations. Anything that pushes the balance too far will +be fatal. You can lose a hand or even an arm without +serious harm; the missing member will be regrown. But +if you were to fall into a large meat-grinder—"</p> + +<p>"I get the idea," Forrester said, feeling pale green.</p> + +<p>"Good," Vulcan said. "However, there is more."</p> + +<p>"<i>More?</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There are certain other powers to be given you in +addition. You will learn of these later."</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded blankly.</p> + +<p>"Now," Vulcan said, "all these physical changes will +have a definite effect upon your psychological outlook, +as I imagine you can plainly see."</p> + +<p>Forrester thought about it. "Well—"</p> + +<p>"Let us suppose that you are a coward who has +avoided fights all his life. Now you are given these +powers. What will happen?"</p> + +<p>"I'll be strong."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. You will be strong. And because you are +strong, and almost indestructible, you suddenly decide +that you can now get your revenge on the people who +have pushed you around."</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester said, "I—"</p> + +<p>"You begin to look for fights," Vulcan said. "You go +around beating up everyone you can find, simply because +you now know you can get away with it. Do you understand +me?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so."</p> + +<p>"A man with a vicious streak in him would be intolerable +in this position. Can you see that? Take an example: +Ares. Mars is a tough God, hard and at times brutal. But +he is not vicious."</p> + +<p>Forrester was a little surprised to hear Vulcan say +anything nice about Mars. He knew, as everyone did, +the long history of ill-will and positive hatred the two +had built up between them. It had begun soon after +Vulcan's marriage to Aphrodite/Venus.</p> + +<p>He hadn't been a cripple then, of course. For a while, +he and Venus had had a fine time. But Venus, apparently, +just wasn't satisfied with the dull normal routine of +married life. None of the Gods seemed to be, as a matter +of fact. Either they were altogether too married, like +Zeus, or else they weren't married enough, like Venus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +Or else they were like Diana and Athena, indifferent to +marriage.</p> + +<p>At any rate, Venus had begun looking around for fresh +talent. And the fresh talent had been right there ready to +sign up for a long contract on a strictly extra-legal basis.</p> + +<p>One day Vulcan caught them at it, his wife and Mars. +Vulcan was angry, but Mars didn't exactly like to be interrupted, +either, and he was a little faster on the draw. +He tossed Vulcan over a nearby cliff, crippling him +for good.</p> + +<p>And as for Aphrodite—who knew? It was entirely +possible that, by this time, the Goddess of Love had run +through the entire list of Gods and was now at work on +the mortals.</p> + +<p>Forrester wasn't entirely sure he disliked the idea, on a +simple physical level. But there was more than that to it, +of course; there was Vulcan. Forrester found himself +liking the solemn, positive workman. He didn't want to +hurt him.</p> + +<p>And a liaison with Venus was certain to do just that.</p> + +<p>He came back to the present to hear Vulcan still discoursing. +"Also," the God said, "changes in glandular +balance must be made. These changes have a necessary +effect on the brain. The personality changes subtly, +though I can assure you that the change is not a marked +one." He paused. "For all these reasons," he finished, "I +am sure that you can see why we must subject you to +further tests."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Forrester said vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Good. Now, you will not know whether a given +incident—any given incident—is a perfectly natural occurrence +or a test imposed on you by the Pantheon. Can +you understand that?"</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded.</p> + +<p>Vulcan levered himself upright, his ugly face smiling +just a little. "And remember what I have told you. No +worrying. You don't even know just what any given test<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +is supposed to accomplish, so you can't know whether the +action you choose is right or wrong. Therefore, worrying +will do nothing for you. You will be at your best if you +simply behave naturally."</p> + +<p>"I'll try."</p> + +<p>"Remember, also, that you were picked not merely for +your physical resemblance to Dionysus, but your psychological +resemblance as well. Therefore, playing his +part should be comparatively simple for you. Right?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so," Forrester said, feeling both expectant and +a little hopeless about it all.</p> + +<p>"Fine," Vulcan said. "Now wait one moment." He +turned and limped over to a structure that looked like a +sort of worktable. When he came back, he was carrying +several objects in his big hands. He selected one, an +ovoid about the size of a marble, colored a dull orange, +and handed it to Forrester. "Swallow that."</p> + +<p>Forrester took it cautiously. As soon as he found out +what he was supposed to do with the thing, its dimensions +seemed to grow. It looked about the size of a golf +ball in his shaking hands.</p> + +<p>"<i>Swallow</i> it?" he said tentatively.</p> + +<p>"Correct," Vulcan said.</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"This object is a—well, call it a talisman. It will not +dissolve, and it is recoverable, but for the Investiture it +must be inside you."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"You will find it so easy to swallow that you will need +no water. Go ahead."</p> + +<p>Forrester put the thing in his mouth and swallowed +once, just to test Vulcan's statement. The effect was +surprising. He could barely feel it leave his tongue, and +he couldn't feel it go down at all. He swallowed again, +experimentally, and explored the inside of his mouth with +his tongue.</p> + +<p>"It is gone," Vulcan said. "Good."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's gone, all right," Forrester said wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"The sandals are next." Vulcan selected a pair of +sandals with rather thick soles and handed them over. +They were apparently made of gold. Forrester obediently +strapped them on, and Vulcan next handed him a pair of +golden cylinders indented to fit his curved fingers.</p> + +<p>"You hold these very tightly," Vulcan said. "During the +Investiture, you must grip them as hard as you can." He +peered closely at them and pointed to one. "This one +goes in the left hand. The other goes in the right. Squeeze +them as if—as if you were trying to crush them. All +right?"</p> + +<p>"All right," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>Vulcan nodded. "Good. From this moment on, do exactly +as you are told. Answer questions truthfully. Keep +nothing secret. Remember my instructions."</p> + +<p>"Right," Forrester said doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Come on," Vulcan said, heading for the wall. The +inevitable Veil of Heaven appeared, and Forrester followed +through it as before.</p> + +<p>The room they entered was not, he thought, the same +one they had been in before. Or, if it was, it had changed +a great deal. It was difficult to tell anything for sure; the +shifting walls looked the same, but they also looked like +the shifting walls in Venus' apartments.</p> + +<p>At any rate, there were now no couches on the floor. +The room seemed even bigger than before, and when the +walls settled down to a steady golden glow, Forrester felt +lost in the immensity of the place. In the center of the +room was a raised golden dais. It was about five feet +across and nearly three feet high.</p> + +<p>The Gods were ranged around it in a semicircle, facing +him. Vulcan slipped into an empty space in the line, +and Forrester stood perfectly alone, holding the cylinders.</p> + +<p>Zeus cleared his throat. "Step up on the dais," he said.</p> + +<p>Stumbling slightly, Forrester managed to do so without +losing his grip on the cylinders.</p> + +<p>In the center of the raised platform, with the Gods<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +staring at him, he felt like something under a microscope.</p> + +<p>"William Forrester," Zeus said, and he shuddered. The +All-Father's voice had never been more powerful. "William +Forrester, from this moment onward you will +renounce your present name. You will be known as +Dionysus the Lesser until and unless it shall please us +to confer another name on you. Henceforth, you will be, +in part, a recipient of the worship due to Dionysus, and +you will hold the rank of demi-God. Do you accept these +judgments and this honor?"</p> + +<p>Forrester gulped. A long time seemed to pass. At last +he found his voice. "I do," he said.</p> + +<p>"Very well," Zeus said.</p> + +<p>The Gods joined hands and closed the circle around +Forrester, surrounding him completely. The golden auras +that shone about their bodies grew more and more +bright. Forrester clutched the golden cylinders tightly.</p> + +<p>Then, very suddenly, there was an explosion of light. +Forrester thought he had staggered, but he was never +sure. Everything was too bright to see. Dizziness began, +and grew.</p> + +<p>The room whirled and tipped. Somewhere a great +organlike note began, and went on and on.</p> + +<p>Forrester convulsed with the force of a single great +burst of energy that crashed through his nervous system.</p> + +<p>And then, in a timeless instant, everything went black.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> + + +<p class="cap">The morning of the Autumn Bacchanal dawned bright +and clear—thanks to the intervention of the Pantheon. +In New York, the leaves were only just beginning to turn, +and the sun was still high enough in the sky to make the +afternoons warm and pleasant. Zeus All-Father had promised +good weather for the festival, and a strong, warm +wind from the Gulf of Mexico was moving out the crisp +autumn air before the sun had risen an hour above the +horizon.</p> + +<p>The practicing that had gone on in thousands of homes +throughout the city was at an end. The Autumn Bacchanal +was here at last, and the Beginning Service, which +had started in the little Temple-on-the-Green right at +dawn, when the sun's rays had first touched the tops of +New York's towers, was approaching its end. The people +clustered in the building, and the incomparably greater +number scattered outside it, were feeling the first itch of +restlessness.</p> + +<p>Soon the Grand Procession would begin, starting as always +from the Temple-on-the-Green and wending its +slow way northward to the upper end of Central Park +at 110th Street. Then the string of worshippers would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +turn and head back for the Temple at the lower end of +the Park, with fanfare and pageantry on a scale calculated +to do honor to the God of the festival, to outshine +not only every other festival, but every past year of the +Autumn Bacchanal itself.</p> + +<p>The Autumn Bacchanal was devoted to the celebration +of the harvest, and more specifically the harvest and +processing of the grape. All the wineries for hundreds of +miles around had shipped hogshead after hogshead and +barrel after barrel of fine wine—red, white, rose, still, or +sparkling—as joyous sacrifice to Dionysus/Bacchus, and +in thanks that the fertility rites of the Vernal Bacchanal +had brought them good crops. Wine flowed from everywhere +into the city, and now the immense reserves were +stacked away, awaiting the revels. Even the brewers and +distillers had sent along their wares, from the mildest +beer to vodka of 120 proof, joining unselfishly in the celebration +even though, technically, they were not under +Dionysian protection at all, but were the wards of Ceres, +the Goddess of grain.</p> + +<p>Celebrants, liquors, chants, preparations, balloons, confetti, +edibles and all the other appurtenances of the +festival spiraled dizzyingly upward, reaching proportions +unheard of throughout history. And, in a back room +at the Temple-on-the-Green, the late William Forrester +sat, trying to forget all about them, and suffering from +a continuous case of nerves.</p> + +<p>Diana marched up and down in front of him, smacking +her left fist into her calloused little right palm. "Now +listen," she said crisply. "I know you're all hot and +bothered, kid, but there's no reason to be. You're doing +fine. They love you out there."</p> + +<p>"Sure I am," Forrester said, unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are," Diana said. "You just got to have confidence, +that's all. Keep your spirits up. Tried singing?"</p> + +<p>"Singing?"</p> + +<p>"Singing, kid. Raises the spirits."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forrester blinked. "Really?"</p> + +<p>"Take it from me," Diana said. "How about Tenting +Tonight?"</p> + +<p>"How about what?"</p> + +<p>"Tenting Tonight," Diana said. "You know."</p> + +<p>"I—guess I do." Forrester wished that Diana would do +more than treat him like a pal. She was a remarkably +beautiful woman, if you liked the type, and Forrester +liked virtually any type.</p> + +<p>Now, success appeared to be within his grasp. But it +did seem an odd time to bring the subject up. Oh, well, +he thought, maybe she was just trying to cheer him up +and had picked this way of doing it.</p> + +<p>It worked, too, he told himself happily.</p> + +<p>He cleared his throat. "Where?"</p> + +<p>Diana stared. "Where?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Forrester said. Something was going +wrong but he couldn't discover what it was. "The tenting."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Diana said. "Right here. Now. Raises the spirits."</p> + +<p>"I should say it does!" Forrester agreed enthusiastically. +"But after all—right here—"</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about it, kid. Nobody will hear you."</p> + +<p>"<i>Hear</i> me?"</p> + +<p>"Anyway, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people +do it when they feel low."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet they do," Forrester said. "But it's different with +you and me."</p> + +<p>"Me?" Diana said. "What do I have to do with it? I +just told you—"</p> + +<p>"Well, sure. And here and now is as good a time and +place as any."</p> + +<p>Diana stepped back a pace. "Okay, let's hear it. Sing!"</p> + +<p>"Sing? You mean I have to sing for my—"</p> + +<p>"I'll join you," Diana said.</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. He was beginning to get confused. +"You'd better," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>Tenting tonight on the old camp grounds</i>," she sang. +"Now come on."</p> + +<p>Forrester coughed. "Oh," he said. "Sing."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Diana said, and they went through the song +together. "How about another chorus?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Diana," Forrester said, knowing she +preferred the name to her Greek one of Artemis. "I feel +fine now."</p> + +<p>"Well," Diana said in a disappointed voice, "all right."</p> + +<p>What surprised Forrester most was that he <i>did</i> feel +fine. All the Gods had helped him in the past several +months, but Diana had been especially helpful. As a +forest Goddess, and as Protectress of the Night, she'd +been able to tell him a lot about how an orgy was +arranged. He had often wished that she would teach by +example, but now, he discovered, it was too late for +wishing.</p> + +<p>She was, he told himself with only faint regret, just +like a sister to him. Or even a brother.</p> + +<p>"I guess everything will be okay," he said. "Won't it?"</p> + +<p>Diana clapped him on the back. "You're going to be +great. Just go out there and show 'em what kind of a +God you are."</p> + +<p>"But what kind of a God am I?"</p> + +<p>"Just keep cool, kid. You won't fail me—I know it."</p> + +<p>"I'll try," Forrester said. "Only I'm getting nervous +just sitting around here. I wish we could go out and stroll +around; we've got plenty of time, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Diana nodded. "It's ten minutes yet before the Procession +starts. I suppose we might as well take a look +around, kid, if it makes you feel better."</p> + +<p>"It might."</p> + +<p>"Fine, then. But how do you want to go?"</p> + +<p>Forrester blinked. "How?"</p> + +<p>"Invisibility," Diana said, "or incognito?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," Forrester said. Then he added: "You're asking +me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course I am, kid. Now, look: this is your celebration, +remember? You're Dionysus. Got it? Even in my +presence, you act the part now. You ought to know that."</p> + +<p>"Well, sure, but—"</p> + +<p>"Keep this in mind. These people haven't had a Sabbatical +Bacchanal in seven years. Every seven years they +get to see their God—and this year you're it. Right?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so. But—"</p> + +<p>"No buts," Diana said. "You're the boss and they're +your worshippers. That's all there is to it. Now, you've +got to make up your mind. What'll it be?"</p> + +<p>Forrester thought. "Well," he said at last, "I guess it +had better be incognito. With this crowd, there's too +much likelihood of getting bumped into if we're invisible. +Right?"</p> + +<p>Diana grinned. "That's the boy! You're thinking +straight now!"</p> + +<p>Forrester had the sudden feeling that he had just +passed another test. But he didn't quite dare ask about +it "All right," he said instead. "Let's go."</p> + +<p>He put his mind to work concentrating on the special +faculties that his demi-God power gave him. His face +began to change. He looked less and less like Dionysus as +the seconds went by, and more and more like William +Forrester. At the same time, the golden aura around his +body began to fade. After a few minutes he looked like +William Forrester completely, a nice enough guy but +pretty much of a nonentity.</p> + +<p>Diana, with the greater power of a true Goddess, +achieved the same sort of result almost instantly. Her +aura was gone and the sparkle had left her eyes. Her +brown hair looked a little mousy now, and her face was +merely pretty instead of being gloriously beautiful.</p> + +<p>"Just one thing," Forrester said. "We'd better make +ourselves invisible just to leave the Temple. Somebody +might suspect we weren't ordinary people at all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Right again," Diana smiled. She nodded her head +and blinked out.</p> + +<p>Forrester could still see a cloudy outline of her in the +room, but he knew that was because he was a demi-God, +with special powers. An ordinary mortal, he knew, would +see nothing at all.</p> + +<p>He followed her into invisibility and walked out the +back door of the Temple-on-the-Green. The door was +open and two Temple Myrmidons, wearing the golden +grape-clusters of Dionysus on their shoulder patches, +stood outside the door. Neither of them saw Forrester +and Diana leave.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Three minutes later, they were standing near +the doorway of the Temple, watching the preparations +for the Grand Procession. The fifty priests of Dionysus +gathered there while the enormous crowd pushed and +shoved to get a better view of the ritual. The sacrifice +of the first fruits had been completed, and now, at the +door of the Temple, each of the fifty priests filled a +chalice from a huge hogshead of purple wine.</p> + +<p>They chanted a prayer in unison and spilled half the +wine on the ground as a libation. Then they lifted the +chalices to their lips and drank, finishing the other half +in one long motion.</p> + +<p>The chalices were set down, and a cheer rose from +the crowd.</p> + +<p>The Bacchanal had begun!</p> + +<p>The priests separated into two equal groups. Twenty-five +of them started northward, marching to their positions +at regularly spaced intervals in the procession. The +remaining twenty-five stayed behind, ready to accompany +Dionysus himself at the tail of the parade.</p> + +<p>Each of the other Gods was represented by a special +detachment of ten Myrmidons, each contingent wearing +the distinctive shoulder patch of the God it served:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +the thunderbolt of Zeus, the blazing sun of Apollo, the +pipes of Pan, the sword of Mars, the hammer of Vulcan, +the poppy of Morpheus, the winged foot of Mercury, the +trident of Neptune, the cerberus of Pluto, the peacock +of Hera, the owl of Athena, the dove of Venus, the +crescent of Diana, and the sprig of wheat that represented +Mother Ceres. The Myrmidons grinned in expectation +of the good times coming; a Dionysian festival was always +something special, and competition for the contingents +was always tough.</p> + +<p>There were balloons everywhere, as the crowd shoved +and pushed into the line of march. Someone was bawling +an old song about the lack of liquor, and the strident +voice carried over the shouts and halloos of the mob:</p> + +<p>"<i>How dry I am—</i>"</p> + +<p>Forrester and Diana, now visible, pushed their way +through the crowds. A man flung his arm around the +Goddess with abandon, shouting something indistinguishable; +Diana shook him off gently and went on. +Forrester almost tripped over a small boy sitting on the +grass and crying. A Myrmidon was standing over him, +and the child's mother was trying to lift the boy.</p> + +<p>"I wanna go to the orgy," the boy kept saying. "I +wanna go to the orgy."</p> + +<p>"Next year," the mother told him. "Next year, child, +when you're six."</p> + +<p>The Myrmidon lifted the child and carried him away. +The mother shouted an address after him, and the +Myrmidon nodded, pushed his way through a gesticulating +group of celebrants and disappeared in the direction +of Central Park West. There, other Dionysian +Myrmidons were patrolling, making sure that no non-Dionysian +got in except by special invitation. Any non-Dionysian +who wanted to celebrate was supposed to do +it on the streets of the city, and not in Central Park, +which was going to be crowded enough with legitimate +revelers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>The shouting and screaming went on, people pushing +and shoving, confetti beginning to drift like a light snow +over the worshippers. One man held five balloons and a +cigarette, and he was popping the balloons with the +cigarette tip, one by one. Every time one of the balloons +exploded, a group of women and girls around him +shrieked and laughed.</p> + +<p>Forrester turned back. Behind a convenient bush, he +and Diana made themselves invisible again, and re-entered +the Temple-on-the-Green.</p> + +<p>The silence inside the Temple was deafening.</p> + +<p>"The noise out there could break eardrums," Forrester +complained. "I've never heard anything like it."</p> + +<p>"Just wait," Diana told him. "The music will start any +time now—and then you'll <i>really</i> hear something." She +paused. "Ready?"</p> + +<p>Forrester glanced down at himself. "I guess so. How +do I look?" He had constructed a golden <i>chiton</i> and +mentally clothed himself in it. It was covered by a grape-purple +cloak embroidered with golden grapevines. And +around his head a circlet of woven grapevines had appeared, +made of solid gold. It was a little heavier than +Forrester had expected it would be, but it lent him, he +thought, rather a dashing air.</p> + +<p>"Great," Diana said. "Just great."</p> + +<p>"Think so?" Forrester said, feeling rather pleased.</p> + +<p>"Sure you do. Now go out there and give 'em the old +college try."</p> + +<p>Forrester gulped. "How about you?"</p> + +<p>"Me? I'm on my way out of here. This is your show, +kid. Make the most of it."</p> + +<p>Forrester watched her go out the rear door. He was +alone. And the Autumn Bacchanal Processional was +about to begin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER EIGHT</h2> + + +<p class="cap">Noise! Forrester, seated in the great golden palanquin +supported by twelve hefty Priests of Dionysus, had +never seen or heard anything like it. He waited there +on the steps of the little Temple-on-the-Green for the +Procession to wind by, so that he could take his place at +the end of it. But the Procession looked endless.</p> + +<p>First came a corps of Priests and Myrmidons, leading +their way stolidly through the paths of Central Park. +Following them came the revelers, a mass of men and +women marching, laughing, singing, shouting, dancing +their way along to the accompaniment of more music +than Forrester had ever dreamed of.</p> + +<p>The Dionysians had practiced for months, and almost +everything was represented. There were violinists prancing +along, violists and a crew of long-haired gentlemen +and ladies playing the viol da gamba and the viol +d'amore; there were guitarists plunking madly away, +banjo players strumming and ukelele addicts picking +at their strings, somehow all chorusing together. In a +special pair of floats there were bass players, bass fiddle +players and cellists, jammed tightly together and somehow +managing to draw enormous sounds and scratches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +out of the big instruments. And behind them came the +main band of musicians.</p> + +<p>The woodwinds followed: piccolo players piping, flutists +fluting, oboe players, red-cheeked and glassy-eyed, +concentrating on making the most piercing possible +sounds, men playing English horns, clarinets, bass clarinets, +bassoons and contra-bassoons, along with men +playing serpents and, behind them, a dancing group +fingering ocarinas and adding their bit to the general +tumult, and two women tootling madly away on hoarse-sounding +zootibars.</p> + +<p>And then, near the center of the musicians, were the +brass: trumpets and trumpets-a-piston, trombones and +valve trombones and Fulk horns, all blatting away to +split the sky with maddening sound, Sousaphones and +saxophones and French horns and bass horns and hunting +horns, and tubas along in their own little cart, six +round-cheeked men lost in the curves of the great instruments, +valiantly blowing away as they rolled by +into the woods of the park, making the city itself resound +with tremendous noise and shattering cadence. And behind +them was the battery.</p> + +<p>Kettle drums, bass drums, xylophones, Chinese gongs, +vibraphones, snare drums and high-hat cymbals paraded +by in carts, banged and stroked and tinkled enthusiastically +by crew after crew of maddened tympanists. And +then came the others, on foot: tambourines and wood +blocks and parade cymbals and castanets. At the tail of +this portion of the Procession came a single old man +wearing spectacles and riding in a small cart drawn by +a donkey. He had white hair and he was playing on a +series of water-glasses filled to various levels. His ear +was cocked toward the glasses with painstaking care. He +was entirely inaudible in the general din, but he looked +happy and satisfied; he was doing his bit.</p> + +<p>After him followed a group of entirely naked men +and women playing sackbuts, and another group playing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +recorders. Bringing up the rear, as the Procession curved, +was a magnificent aggregation of men and women yowling +away on bagpipes of all shapes and sizes. All of the +men wore sporrans and nothing more; the women wore +nothing at all. The music that emanated from this group +was enough to unhinge the mind.</p> + +<p>And then came the keyboard instruments, into the +middle of which the five theremin-players had been +stuck for no reason at all. The strange howls of this unearthly +instrument filtered through the sound of pianos, +harpsichords, psalters, clavichords, virginals and three +gigantic electric organs pumping at full strength.</p> + +<p>And bringing up the very rear of the Procession was +a special decorated cart, full of color and holding a lone +man with long white hair, wearing a rusty black suit and +playing away, with great attention and care, on the +largest steam calliope Forrester had ever met. Jets of +steam fizzed out of the top, and music bawled from the +interior of the massive thing as it went by, trailing the +Procession into the woods, and the entire aggregation +swung into a single song, hundred upon hundreds of +musicians and singers all coming down hard on the opening +strains of the Hymn to Dionysus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Mine eyes have seen the glory of the Lord who rules the wine—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He has trampled out the vintage of the grapes upon the vine!</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The twelve Priests picked up the palanquin and Forrester +adjusted his weight so they wouldn't find it too +heavy. It was impossible to think in the mass of noise +and music that went on and on, as the Procession wound +uptown through the paths of Central Park, and the musicians +banged and scraped and blew and pounded and +stroked and plucked, and the great Hymn rose into the +air, filling the entire city with the bawled chorus as even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +the twelve Priests joined in, adding to the ear-splitting +din:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Glory, Glory, Dionysus!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Glory, Glory, Dionysus!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Glory, Glory, Dionysus!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>While his wine goes flowing on!</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Forrester had always been disturbed by what he +thought might have been a double meaning in that last +line, but it didn't disturb him now. Nothing seemed to +disturb him as the Procession wound on, and he was +laughing uproariously and winking and nodding at his +worshippers as they sang and played all around him, and +the hours went by. Halfway there, he fished in the air +and brought down the small golden disks with the picture +of Dionysus on them that were a regular feature of +the Processional, and flung them happily into the crowd +ahead.</p> + +<p>Only one was allowed per person, so there was not +much scrambling, but some of the coins pattered down +on the various instruments, and one landed in the old +gentleman's middle-C water glass and had to be fished +out before he could go on with the Hymn.</p> + +<p>Carousing and noisy, the Procession finally reached the +huge stand at the far end of the park, and the music +stopped. On the stand was a whole new group of musicians: +harpists, lyrists, players of the flageolet and +dulcimer, two men sweating over glockenspiels, a group +equipped with zithers and citharas and sitars, three +women playing nose-flutes, two men with shofars, and +a tall, blond man playing a clarino trumpet. As the +Procession ground to a halt, this new band struck up the +Hymn again, played it through twice, and then stopped.</p> + +<p>Seven girls filed out onto the platform in front of the +musicians. One was there representing every year since +the last Sabbatical Bacchanal. Forrester, riding high on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +the palanquin, beamed down at them, roaring with +happy laughter. They were all for him. Having been +carried to one end of the park in triumph, he was now +to march back at the head of his people, surrounded by +seven of the most beautiful girls in New York.</p> + +<p>Their final selection had been left, he knew, to a +brewery which had experience in these matters. And the +girls certainly looked like the pick of anybody's crop. +Forrester beamed at them again, stood up in the palanquin +and spread his arms wide.</p> + +<p>Then he sprang. In a flying leap, he went high into +the air and did a full somersault, landing on his toes on +the stage, twenty-five feet away. The girls were kneeling +in a circle around him.</p> + +<p>"Come, my doves!" he bellowed. "Come, my pigeons!" +His Godlike golden baritone carried for blocks.</p> + +<p>He grabbed the two nearest girls by their hands and +helped them to their feet. They blushed and lowered +their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Come, all of you!" Forrester shouted. "We are about +to begin the revels!"</p> + +<p>The girls rose and Forrester gestured them in closer. +Then, surrounded by all seven, he threw back his head +again.</p> + +<p>"A revel to make history!" he roared. "A revel beyond +the imagination of man! A revel fit for your God!"</p> + +<p>The crowd cheered wildly. Forrester picked up one +of the girls, tossed her into the air and caught her easily +as she descended. He set her on her feet and put his +hands solidly on his hips.</p> + +<p>"My cup!" he shouted. "Fill you my cup!"</p> + +<p>Behind the stage was a corps of Priests guarding a +mountainous golden hogshead of wine, adjudged the +finest wine produced during the year.</p> + +<p>"We shall have drink!" Forrester shouted. "We shall +let the revels roar on!"</p> + +<p>Two priests came forward, staggering under the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +weight of a gigantic crystal goblet containing fully two +gallons of the clear purple liquid. They bore it to Forrester +with great pomp, and before them came a dozen +players on the gahoon and the contra-gahoon, making +Forrester's ears ring with deafening fanfares.</p> + +<p>Forrester took the great goblet in one hand and held +it with ease. Then he lifted it into the air with a wordless +shout, filled his lungs and laughed. He put the goblet +to his lips and drained it in a single long motion. A +mighty hurrah shook the trees and rocks of the park.</p> + +<p>Forrester waved the goblet. "Again. Fill you my cup +once more!" He embraced the seven girls with one +sweeping gesture of his arms. "My little beauties must +have drink! Fill you the cup!"</p> + +<p>He passed it back to the Priests carefully. They received +it and went back to where the others were waiting +to fill it. Then they staggered forward again and Forrester +picked up the brimming goblet. He held it for +the girls, each of whom tried to outdrink the others. But +it was still more than half-full when they were finished.</p> + +<p>Forrester raised it again. The crowd shouted. "Observe +your God!" Forrester roared. "Observe his powers!" He +threw his head back and emptied the goblet. Then, holding +it in one hand, he faced the assemblage and delivered +himself of one Godlike belch.</p> + +<p>The crowd shrieked its approval. Forrester had the +goblet filled once more and put three of the girls in +charge of it. Then he came down the steps from the +platform and began the long march back to the Temple-on-the-Green.</p> + +<p>The shouting, carousing revelers followed him joyfully. +Halfway back, one of them stumbled forward and +caught at the trailing edge of his robe. There was an +immediate crackle and burst of static electricity, and +the stumbler fell back yelping and shaking his arms. +The Myrmidons came and took him away.</p> + +<p>Dionysus couldn't be touched by anyone except those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +authorized to do so—the seven girls and the Priests. But +Forrester barely noticed the accident; he was too happy +on top of his world, laughing and hugging the girls close +to him.</p> + +<p>Behind him, the Priests at the golden hogshead, now +set free to taste the wine themselves, had lost no time. +They were dipping in busily with their own goblets—a +good deal smaller than the two-gallon crystal one for +Dionysus himself. There was not even any need for +libations; enough ran over the brimming edges of the +goblets to take care of that detail, and the Priests were +soon well on the way to becoming sozzled.</p> + +<p>The musicians, now joined by the corps which had +waited on the uptown stage, struck up a new tune, and +drowned out even the shouting crowds as they cheered +their God. After a little while, the crowds began to sing +along with the magnificent noise:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Dionysus wrapped his hand around the goblet,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Around the goblet—around the goblet—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Dionysus wrapped his hand around the goblet,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And we'll all get—stinking drunk!</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was by no means an official hymn, but Forrester +didn't mind; it was sung with such a great deal of honest +enthusiasm. He himself did not join in the singing; he +was otherwise occupied. With his arms around two of +the girls, drinking now and then from the great goblet +three more were holding, and winking and laughing at +the extra two, he made his joyous way down the petal-strewn +paths of Central Park.</p> + +<p>The Procession wound down through the paths, over +bridges and under tunnels, singing and playing and +marching and dancing madly, while Forrester, at its +head, caroused as merrily as any four of them. They +reached a bridge crossing a little stream and Forrester +sprang at it with a great somersaulting leap that carried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +the two girls he was holding right along with him. He +set them down at the slope of the bridge, laughing and +giggling and the other girls, with the Procession behind +them, soon caught up. Forrester let go of one of the girls, +grabbed the goblet with his free hand and swung it in +a magnificent gesture.</p> + +<p>"Forward!" he cried.</p> + +<p>The Procession surged over the bridge, Forrester at its +head. He grabbed the girl again, handing the goblet +back to his corps of three carriers, and bowed and +grinned at his worshippers behind him, surging forward, +and at some others standing under the bridge, ankle-deep, +shin-deep, even knee-deep in the rushing water, +craning their necks upward to get a really good view of +their God as he passed over. There were over a hundred +of them there.</p> + +<p>Forrester didn't see a hundred of them.</p> + +<p>He saw one of them first, and then two more. And time +seemed to stop with a grinding halt. Forrester wanted +to run and hide. He clutched the girls closer to him with +one instinctive gesture, and then realized he'd made the +wrong move. But it was too late. He was lost, he told +himself dolefully. The sun had gone out, the wine had +lost its power and the celebration had degenerated to a +succession of ugly noises.</p> + +<p>The first face he saw belonged to Gerda Symes.</p> + +<p>In that timeless instant, Forrester felt that he could +see every detail of the soft, small face, the dark hair, +the slim, curved figure. She was smiling up at him, but +her face looked a little bewildered, as if she were smiling +only because it was the thing to do. Forrester wondered, +panic-stricken, how she, an Athenan, had managed to get +entry to a Dionysian revel—but his wonder only lasted +for a second. Then he saw the second and third faces, +and he knew.</p> + +<p>The second face belonged to an absolute stranger. He +looked like an oafish clod, even viewed objectively, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +Forrester was making no efforts in that direction. He +had one arm around Gerda's waist and he was grinning +up at her, and, sideways, at Forrester with a look that +made them co-conspirators in what was certainly +planned to be Gerda's seduction. Forrester didn't like +the idea. As a matter of fact, he hated it more than he +could possibly say.</p> + +<p>But all he could do was trust to Gerda's own doubtless +sterling good sense. She couldn't possibly prefer a +lout like her current escort to good old Bill Forrester, +could she?</p> + +<p>On the other hand, she thought Bill Forrester was +dead. She'd had to think that; when he became Dionysus +the Lesser, he couldn't just disappear. He had to die +officially—and, as far as Gerda knew, the death wasn't +just an official formality.</p> + +<p>With Bill Forrester dead, then, had she turned to the +oaf for comfort? He didn't look very comforting, Forrester +thought. He looked like a damned outrage on the +face of the Earth. Forrester disliked him on first sight, +and knew perfectly well that any future sights would +only increase the dislike.</p> + +<p>It was the third face, though that explained everything.</p> + +<p>The third face was as unmistakable as Gerda's, though +in an entirely different way. It was fleshy and pasty, and +it belonged, of course, to Gerda's lovable brother Ed. +Forrester saw everything in one flash of understanding.</p> + +<p>Ed Symes obviously had enough pull to get his sister +invited to the Bacchanal. And from the looks of Gerda, +he hadn't let the matter rest there. She was holding a +half-filled plastic mug of wine in one hand—a mug with +the picture of Dionysus stamped on it, which for some +reason increased Forrester's outrage—and she was trying +her best to look as if she were reveling.</p> + +<p>From the looks of her, Ed had managed to get her +about eight inches this side of half-pickled. And from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +the horribly cheerful look on Ed's countenance, he +wasn't about to stop at the half-pickled mark, either.</p> + +<p>Of course, from Ed's point of view—and Forrester told +himself sternly that he had to be fair about this whole +thing—from Ed's point of view there was nothing wrong +in what was happening. He wanted to cheer Gerda up +(undoubtedly the news of the Forrester demise had been +quite a shock to her, poor girl), and what better way +than to introduce her to his own religion, the best of +all possible religions? The Autumn Bacchanal must have +looked like the perfect time and place for that introduction, +and Gerda's escort, a friend of Ed's—somehow +Forrester had to think of him as Ed's friend; it was +clearly not possible that he was Gerda's—had been +brought along to help cheer the girl up and show her +the advantages of worshipping Dionysus.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, the advantages hadn't turned out to be +all that had been expected of them. Because now Gerda +had seen Forrester alive and—</p> + +<p>Wait a minute, Forrester told himself.</p> + +<p>Gerda hadn't seen William Forrester at all.</p> + +<p>She had seen just what she expected to see; Dionysus, +God of Wine. There was no reason for him to shrink +from her, or try to hide. Just because he was walking +along with seven beautiful girls, drinking about sixteen +times the consumption of any normal right-thinking +fish, and carousing like the most unprincipled of men, +he didn't have to be ashamed of himself.</p> + +<p>He was only doing his job.</p> + +<p>And Gerda did not know that he wasn't Dionysus.</p> + +<p>The thought made him feel a little better, but it +saddened him, too, just a bit. He set himself grimly and +shouted: "Forward!" once more. To his own ears, his +voice lacked conviction, but the crowd didn't seem to +notice. The cheered frantically. Forrester wished they +would all go away.</p> + +<p>He started forward. His foot found a large pebble that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +hadn't been there before, and he performed the magnificent +feat of tripping on it. He flailed the air frantically, +and managed to regain his balance. Then he was back on +his feet, clutching at the girls. His big left toe hurt, but +he ignored the agony bravely.</p> + +<p>He had to think of something to do, and fast. The +crowd had seen him stumble—and that just didn't happen +to a God. It wouldn't have happened to him, either except +for Gerda.</p> + +<p>He got his mind off Gerda with an effort and thought +about what to do to cover his slip. In a moment he had +it. He swore a great oath, empurpling the air. Then he +bent down and picked up the stone. He held it aloft for +a second, and then threw it. Slowly and carefully he +pointed his index finger at it, extending it and raising +his thumb like a little boy playing Stick-'Em-Up.</p> + +<p>"<i>Zap</i>," he said mildly, cocking the thumb forward.</p> + +<p>A crackling, searing bolt of blue-white energy leaped +out of the tip of his index finger in a pencil-thin beam. +It sped toward the falling pebble, speared it and +wrapped it in coruscating splendor. Then the pebble exploded, +scattering into a fine display of flying dust.</p> + +<p>The crowd stopped moving and singing immediately.</p> + +<p>Only the musicians, too intent on their noisemaking to +see what had gone on, went on playing. But the crowd, +having seen Forrester's display and heard his oath, was +as silent as a collection of statues. When a God became +angry, each was obviously thinking, there was absolutely +no telling what was going to happen. Foxholes, some +of them might have told themselves, would definitely be +a good idea. But, of course, there weren't any foxholes +in Central Park. There was nothing to do but stand very +still, and hope you weren't noticed, and hope for the +best.</p> + +<p>Even Gerda, Forrester saw, had stopped, her face +still, her hand lifted in a half-finished wave, the plastic +cup forgotten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>I've got to do something</i>, Forrester thought. <i>I can't +let this kind of thing go on.</i></p> + +<p>He thought fast, spun around and pointed directly +at Ed Symes, standing in the water below the bridge.</p> + +<p>"You, there!" he bellowed.</p> + +<p>Symes turned a delicate fish-belly white. Against this +basic color, his pimples stood out strongly, making, Forrester +thought, a rather unusual and somewhat striking +effect. The man looked as if he wished he could sink +out of sight in the ankle-deep water.</p> + +<p>His mouth opened two or three times. Forrester +waited, getting a good deal of pleasure out of the simple +sight. Finally Symes spoke. "Me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly you! You look like a tough young specimen."</p> + +<p>Symes tried to grin. The effect was ghastly. "I do?" He +said tentatively.</p> + +<p>"Of course you do. Your God tells you so. Do you +doubt him?"</p> + +<p>"Doubt? No. Absolutely not. Never. Wouldn't think +of it. Tough young specimen. That's what I am. Tough. +And young. Tough young specimen. Certainly. You +bet."</p> + +<p>"Good," Forrester said. "Now let's see you in action."</p> + +<p>Symes took a deep breath. He seemed to be savoring +it, as if he thought it was going to be his very last. +"Wh—what do you want me to do?"</p> + +<p>"I want you to pick up another stone and throw it. +Let's see how high you can get it."</p> + +<p>Symes was obviously afraid to move from his spot in +the water. Instead of going back to the land, he fished +around near his feet and finally managed to come up +with a pebble almost as big as his fist. He looked at it +doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Throw!" Forrester said in a voice like thunder.</p> + +<p>Symes, galvanized, threw. It flew up in the air. Forrester<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +drew a careful bead on it, went <i>zap</i> again with the +pointed finger, and blasted the rock into dust.</p> + +<p>The silence hung on.</p> + +<p>Forrester laughed. "Not a bad throw for a mortal! +And a good trick, too—a fine display!" He faced the +crowd. "Now, there—what do you say to the entertainment +your God provides? Wasn't that <i>fun</i>?"</p> + +<p>Well, naturally it was, if Dionysus said so. A great +trick, as a matter of fact. And a perfectly wonderful +display. The crowd agreed immediately, giving a long +rousing cheer. Forrester waved at them, and then turned +to a squad of Myrmidons standing nearby.</p> + +<p>"Go to that man and his friends!" he shouted, noticing +that Symes's knees had begun to shake.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidons obeyed.</p> + +<p>"See that they follow near me. Allow them to remain +close to me at all times—I may need a good stone-thrower +later!"</p> + +<p>Gerda, her brother and the oaf without a name were +rounded up in a hurry, and soon found themselves being +hustled along, willy-nilly, out of the water, up onto the +bridge and into Dionysus' van, where they followed in +the wake of the God, in front of the rest of the Procession. +Of the three, Forrester noted, Gerda was the +only one who didn't seem to think the invitation a high +honor. The sight gave him a kind of hope.</p> + +<p><i>And at least</i>, he thought, <i>I can keep an eye on her +this way</i>.</p> + +<p>The Procession wended its way on, bending slowly +southward toward the little Temple-on-the-Green again. +The musicians played energetically, switching now from +the hymn to their unofficial little ditty. Some switched +before others, some switched after, and some never +bothered to switch at all. The battery, caught between +the opposing claims of two perfectly good songs and a +lot of extraneous matter, filled in as best they could +with a good deal of forceful banging and pounding,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +aided by the steam calliope, and the result of all effort +was a growing cacophony that should have been terribly +unpleasant but somehow wasn't.</p> + +<p>The shouting of the crowd, joking and singing, may +have had something to do with it; nothing was clearly +distinguishable, but the general feeling was that a lot of +noise was being produced, and that was all to the good. +Noise could have been packaged by the board foot and +sold in quantities sufficient to equip every town meeting +throughout the country in full for seven years, and +there would have been enough left over, Forrester +thought, to provide for the subways, the classrooms, the +offices and even a couple of really top-grade traffic +jams.</p> + +<p>Gerda and the others of her party marched quietly. +Ed, Forrester noticed, tried a few cheers, but he got +cold stares from his sister and soon desisted. The oaf +shambled along, his arm no longer around Gerda's +waist. This pleased Forrester no end, and he was in quite +a happy mood by the time the Procession reached the +Temple-on-the-Green.</p> + +<p>He was so happy that he performed his atoning high +jump once again, this time with a double somersault and +a jack-knife thrown in, just to make things interesting, +and landed gently, feeling positively exhilarated and +very Godlike, on the roof of the Temple.</p> + +<p>As the Procession straggled in, the music stopped. +Forrester cleared his throat and shouted in his most +penetrating roar to the silent assemblage: "Hear +me!"</p> + +<p>The crowd stirred, looked up and paid him the most +rapt attention.</p> + +<p>"On with the revels!" he roared. "Let the dancing +begin! Let my wine flow like the streams of the park! +Let joy be unrestrained!"</p> + +<p>He stood on the roof then, watching the crowd begin +to disperse. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Forrester<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +was amazed at how quickly the time had passed. +The Procession itself had taken a good six hours from +start to finish, now that he looked back on it, but it +certainly hadn't seemed so long. And he didn't even +feel tired, in spite of all the dancing and cavorting he +had gone in for.</p> + +<p>He did feel slightly intoxicated, but he wasn't sure +how much of that feeling was due purely and simply to +the liquor he had managed to consume. But otherwise, +he told himself, he felt perfectly fine.</p> + +<p>The musicians were breaking up into little groups of +three and four and five and going off to play softly to +themselves among the trees. The man with the steam +calliope sat exhausted over his keyboard. The old man +with the water glasses was receiving the earnest congratulations +of a lot of people who looked like relatives. +And now that the official music-making was over, a lot +of amateurs playing jews'-harps and tissue-paper-covered +combs and slide-whistles had broken out their contraptions +and were gaily making a joyful noise unto their +God. If, Forrester thought, you wanted to call it joyful. +The general tenor of the sound was a kind of swooping, +batlike whine.</p> + +<p>Forrester stared down. There were Gerda and her +brother and the oaf. They were standing close by the +Temple, three Myrmidons keeping guard over them. The +rest of the crowd had dissolved into little bunches spreading +all over the park. Forrester knew he would have to +leave, too, and very soon. There were seven girls waiting +for him down below.</p> + +<p>Not that he minded the idea. Seven beautiful girls, +after all, were seven beautiful girls. But he did want +to keep an eye on Gerda, and he wasn't sure whether he +would be able to do it when he got busy.</p> + +<p>Somewhere in the bushes, someone began to play a +kazoo, adding the final touch of melancholy and heartbreak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +to the music. The formal and official part of the +Bacchanal was now over.</p> + +<p>The <i>real</i> fun, Forrester thought dismally, was about +to begin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE" id="CHAPTER_NINE"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> + + +<p class="cap">"Now," Forrester said gaily, "let's see if your God has +all the names right, shall we?"</p> + +<p>The seven girls seated around him in a half-circle on +the grass giggled. One of them simpered.</p> + +<p>"Hmm," Forrester said. He pointed a finger. "Dorothy," +he said. The finger moved. "Judy. Uh—Bette. Millicent. +Jayne." He winked at the last two. They had been his +closest companions on the march down. "Beverly," he said, +"and Kathy. Right?"</p> + +<p>The girls laughed, nodding their heads. "You can call +me Millie," Millicent said.</p> + +<p>"All right, Millie." For some reason this drew another +big laugh. Forrester didn't know why, but then, he didn't +much care, either. "That's fine," he said. "Just fine."</p> + +<p>He gave all the girls a big, wide grin. It looked perfectly +convincing to them, he was sure, but there was one +person it didn't convince: Forrester. He knew just how +far from a grin he felt.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, he told himself, he was in something +of a quandary.</p> + +<p>He was not exactly inexperienced in the art of making +love to beautiful young women. After the last few months,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +he was about as experienced as he could stand being. +But his education had, it now appeared, missed one vital +little factor.</p> + +<p>He was used to making love to a beautiful girl all +alone, just the two of them locked quietly away from +prying eyes. True, it had turned out that a lot of his +experiences had been judged by Venus and any other +God who felt like looking in, but Forrester hadn't known +that at the time and, in any case, the spectators had been +invisible and thus ignorable.</p> + +<p>Now, however, he was on the greensward of Central +Park, within full view of a couple of thousand drunken +revelers, all of whom, if not otherwise occupied, asked +for nothing better than a good view of their God in action. +And whichever girl he chose would leave six others +eagerly awaiting their turns, watching his every move +with appreciative eyes.</p> + +<p>And on top of that, there was Gerda, close by. He +was trying to keep an eye on her. But was she keeping +an eye on him, too?</p> + +<p>It didn't seem to matter much that she couldn't recognize +him as William Forrester. She could still see +him in action with the seven luscious maidens. The +idea was appalling.</p> + +<p>All afternoon, he had put off the inevitable by every +method he could think of. He had danced with each +of the girls in turn for entirely improbable lengths of +time. He had performed high-jumps, leaps, barrel-rolls, +Immelmann turns and other feats showing off his Godlike +prowess to anyone interested. He had made a display +of himself until he was sick of the whole business. He had +consumed staggering amounts of ferment and distillate, +and he had forced the stuff on the girls themselves, in the +hope that, what with the liquor and the exertion, they +would lie down on the grass and quietly pass out.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, none of these plans had worked. Dancing +and acrobatics had to come to an end sometime, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +as for the girls, what they wanted to do was lie down, +not pass out—at least not from liquor.</p> + +<p>The Chosen Maidens had been imbued, temporarily, +with extraordinary staying powers by the Priests of the +various temples, working with the delegated powers of +the various Gods. After all, an ordinary girl couldn't be +expected to keep up with Dionysus during a revel, could +she? A God reveling was more than any ordinary mortal +could take for long—as witness the ancient legend concerned +the false Norse God, Thor.</p> + +<p>But these girls were still raring to go, and the sun +had set, and he was running out of opportunities for +delay. He tried to think of some more excuses, and he +couldn't think of one. Vaguely, he wished that the real +Dionysus would show up. He would gladly give the +God not only the credit, he told himself wearily, but +the entire game.</p> + +<p>He glanced out into the growing dimness. Gerda was +out there still, with her brother and the oaf—whose +name, Forrester had discovered, was Alvin Sherdlap. It +was not a probable name, but Alvin did not look like +a probable human being.</p> + +<p>Now and again during the long afternoon, Forrester +had got Ed Symes to toss up more rocks as targets, just +to keep his hand in and to help him in keeping an eye +on Gerda and her oaf, Alvin. It was a boring business, +exploding rocks in mid-air, but after a while Symes +apparently got to like it, and thought of it as a singular +honor. After all, he had been picked for a unique position: +target-tosser for the great God Dionysus. Who else +could make that statement?</p> + +<p>He would probably grow in the estimation of his +friends, Forrester thought, and that was a picture that +wouldn't stand much thinking about. As a stupefying +boor, Symes was bad enough. Adding insufferable snobbishness +to his present personality was piling Pelion on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +Ossa. And only a God, Forrester reminded himself wryly, +could possibly do that.</p> + +<p>Now, Forrester discovered, Symes and Alvin Sherdlap +and Gerda were all sitting around a large keg of beer +which Symes had somehow managed to appropriate from +some other part of the grounds. He and Alvin were +guzzling happily, and Gerda was just sitting there, whiling +away the time, apparently, by thinking. Forrester +wondered if she was thinking of him, and the notion +made him feel sad and poetic.</p> + +<p>Gerda couldn't see him any longer, he knew. The +darkness of night had come down and there was no moon. +The only illumination was the glow rising from the rest +of the city, since the lights of the park would stay out +throughout the night. To an ordinary mortal, the remaining +light was not enough to see anything more than a +few feet away. But to Forrester's Godlike, abnormally +perceptive vision, the park seemed no darker than it had +at dusk, an hour or so before. Though the Symes trio +could not possibly see him, he could still watch over +them with no effort at all.</p> + +<p>He intended to continue doing so.</p> + +<p>But now, with darkness putting a cloak over his activities, +and his mind completely empty of excuses, was the +time to begin the task at hand.</p> + +<p>He cleared his throat and spoke very softly.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said. "Well."</p> + +<p>There had to be something to follow that, but for a +minute he couldn't think of what.</p> + +<p>Millicent giggled unexpectedly. "Oh, Lord Dionysus! +I feel so <i>honored</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Er," Forrester said. Finally he found words. "Oh, that's +all right," he said, wondering exactly what he meant. +"Perfectly all right, Millicent."</p> + +<p>"Call me Millie."</p> + +<p>"Of course, Millie."</p> + +<p>"You can call me Bets, if you want to," Bette chimed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +in. Bette was a blonde with short, curly hair and a startling +figure. "It's kind of a pet name. You know."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Forrester said. "Uh—would you mind keeping +your voices down a little?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" Millicent asked.</p> + +<p>Forrester passed a hand over his forehead. "Well," +he said at last, thinking about Gerda, only a few feet +away, "I thought it might be nicer if we were quiet. +Sort of private and romantic."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Bette said.</p> + +<p>Kathy spoke up. "You mean we have to whisper? +As if we were doing something secret?"</p> + +<p>Forrester tightened his lips. He felt the beginnings of +a strong distaste for Kathy. Why couldn't she leave well +enough alone? But he only said: "Well, yes. I thought +it might be fun. Let's try it, girls."</p> + +<p>"Of course, Lord Dionysus," Kathy said demurely.</p> + +<p>He disliked her, he decided, intensely.</p> + +<p>There was a little silence.</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester said. "You're all such beautiful girls +that I hardly know how to—ah—proceed from here."</p> + +<p>Millicent tittered. So did one of the others—Judy, +Forrester thought.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't want any of you to feel disappointed, or +think you were any lower in my estimation than—than +any other one of you." The sentence seemed to have got +lost somewhere, Forrester thought, but he had straightened +it out. "That wouldn't be fair," he went on, "and we +Gods are always fair."</p> + +<p>The sentence didn't ring quite true in Forrester's mind, +and he thought he heard one of the girls snicker, but he +ignored it and went bravely on.</p> + +<p>"So," he said, "we're going to have a little game."</p> + +<p>Millicent said: "Game?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Forrester said, trying his best to sound enthusiastic. +"We all like games, don't we? I mean, what's an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +orgy—I mean, what's a revel—but a great big game? Isn't +that right?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Bette said doubtfully, "I guess so. Sure, +Lord Dionysus, if you say so."</p> + +<p>"Well, sure it is!" Forrester said. "Fun and games! +So we'll play a little game. Ha-ha."</p> + +<p>Kathy looked up at him brightly. "What kind of game, +Lord Dionysus?" she asked in an innocent tone. She was +an extravagantly pretty brunette with bright brown eyes, +and she had been one of the two he had held in his +arms during the Procession back from the uptown end of +the park. Thinking it over now, Forrester wasn't entirely +sure whether he had chosen her or she had chosen him, +but it didn't really seem to matter, after all.</p> + +<p>"Well, now," he said, "it's going to be a game of +pure chance. Chance and nothing more."</p> + +<p>"Like luck," Bette contributed.</p> + +<p>"That's right—uh—Bets," Forrester said. "Like luck. +And I promise not to use my powers to affect the outcome. +Fair enough, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Kathy said demurely. There was really +no reason for him to be irritated by the girl, so long as +she was agreeing with him so nicely. Nevertheless, he +wasn't quite sure that she was speaking her mind.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Millicent said. "Sure."</p> + +<p>Bette nodded. "Uh-huh. I mean, yes, Lord Dionysus."</p> + +<p>Forrester waved a hand. "No need for formality," he +said, and felt like an ass. But none of the girls seemed +to notice. Agreement with his idea became general. "Well, +let's see."</p> + +<p>His eyes wandered over the surrounding scenery in +quiet thought. Several Myrmidons were scattered about +twenty feet away, and they were standing with their +backs to the group as a matter of formality. If they had +turned around, they couldn't have seen a thing in the +darkness. But they had to remain at their stations, to +make sure no unauthorized persons, souvenir-hunters,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +musicians, special-pleaders or just plain lost souls intruded +upon great Dionysus while he was occupied.</p> + +<p>The Myrmidons were the only living souls within that +radius, except for Forrester himself and his bevy—and +the Symes trio.</p> + +<p>His gaze settled on them. Ed Symes, he noticed with +quiet satisfaction, was now out cold. Forrester thought +that the little spell he had cast on the beer might have +had something to do with that, and he felt rather pleased +with his efforts, at least in that direction. Symes was lying +flat on his back, snoring loudly enough to drown out all +but a few notes from the steam calliope, which was +singing itself loudly to sleep somewhere in the distance. +Near the prone figure, Gerda was trying to fend off the +advances of good old Alvin Sherdlap, but it was obvious +that the sheer passage of time, plus the amount of liquor +she had consumed, were weakening her resistance.</p> + +<p>Forrester pointed a finger at the man. The one thing +he really wanted to do was to give Alvin the rock treatment. +One little <i>zap</i> would do it, and Alvin Sherdlap +would encumber the Earth no more. And it wasn't +as if Alvin would be missed, Forrester told himself. It +was clear from one look at the lout that no one, anywhere, +for any reason, would miss Alvin if he were exploded +into dust.</p> + +<p>The temptation was very nearly irresistible, but somehow +Forrester managed to resist it. He had been told +that he had to be extremely careful in the use of his +powers, and he had a pretty good idea that he wouldn't +be able to justify blasting Alvin. Viewed objectively, +there was nothing wrong with what the oaf was doing. +He was merely following his religion as he understood +it, and the religion was a very simple one: when at an +orgy, have an orgy.</p> + +<p>Gerda didn't have to give in if she didn't want to, +Forrester thought. He tried very hard to make himself +believe that.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>But his finger was still pointed at the man. He didn't +stop his powers entirely; he merely throttled them down +so that only a tiny fraction of the neural energy at his +command came into play. The energy that came from the +tip of his finger made no noise and cast no light. It was +not a killing blow.</p> + +<p>Invisibly, it leaped across the intervening space and +hit Alvin Sherdlap squarely on the nose.</p> + +<p>The results were eminently satisfactory. Alvin uttered +a sharp cry, let go of Gerda and fell over backward. +His legs stood up straight in the air for a second, and +then came down to hit the ground. He was silent. Gerda +stared down at him, too tired and confused to make any +coherent picture out of what was going on.</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed happily to himself. <i>That</i>, he thought, +<i>ought to take care of Alvin for a while</i>.</p> + +<p>"Lord Dionysus," Kathy asked in that same innocent +tone, "what are you pointing at out there?"</p> + +<p>The girl was decidedly irritating, Forrester thought. +"Pointing?" he said. "Ah, yes." He thought fast. "My +target-tosser. I fear that his religious fervor has led +to his being overcome."</p> + +<p>The girls all turned round to look but, of course, +Forrester thought, they could see nothing at all in the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"My goodness," Bette said.</p> + +<p>"But if he's unconscious," Kathy put in, "why were +you pointing at him?"</p> + +<p>Forrester told himself that the next time the Sabbatical +Bacchanal was held, he would see to it that an intelligence +test was given to every candidate for Dionysian Escort, +and anyone who scored as high on it as Kathy would +be automatically disqualified.</p> + +<p>He had to think of some excuse for looking at the man. +And then he had it—the game he had planned. It was +really quite a nice little idea.</p> + +<p>"I hate to see the poor mortal miss out on the rest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +of the evening," Forrester said, "even if he is asleep now. +And I think we may have a use for him."</p> + +<p>He gestured gently with one hand.</p> + +<p>Gerda and Alvin Sherdlap didn't even notice what +was happening. They were much too busy arguing, Alvin +claiming that somebody had slapped him on the nose—"and +pretty hard, too, let me tell you!"—and Gerda swearing +she hadn't done it. The fact that Ed Symes's snores +were fading quietly into the distance dawned on neither +of them.</p> + +<p>But Ed was in flight. He rose five feet above the +ground, still unconscious and snoring, and sped unerringly +across the air, like a large, fat arrow shot from a bow, in +the direction of Forrester and the circle of girls.</p> + +<p>He appeared overhead suddenly, and Forrester controlled +him so that he drifted downward as delicately as +an overweight snowflake, eddying in the slight breeze +while the girls gaped at him. Forrester allowed the body +to drop the last six inches out of control, so that Ed +Symes landed with a heavy thump in the center of the +circle. But no harm was done. Ed was very far gone +indeed; he merely snored on.</p> + +<p>"There," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>Millicent blinked. "Where?" she said. "Him?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Forrester said in a pleased tone. "He's +a good deal too noisy, though, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"He snores a lot," Judy offered in a tentative voice, "if +that's what you mean, Lord Dionysus."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And I don't see any reason to put up with +it. Instead, well just put him in stasis for a little while, +and that'll keep him quiet." Again he waved one hand, +almost carelessly. Ed Symes's snores vanished immediately, +leaving the world a cleaner, purer, quieter place to live +in, and his body became as rigid as if he were a statue.</p> + +<p>"There," Forrester said again with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Now what?" Kathy asked.</p> + +<p>"Now we straighten him out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>One more pass, and Ed Symes's arms were at his sides, +his legs stretched straight out. Only his stomach projected +above the rigid lines of his body. Forrester thought he +had never seen a more pleasing sight.</p> + +<p>Dorothy gasped. "Is he—is he dead?"</p> + +<p>Forrester looked at her reprovingly. "Dead? Now what +would I do that for, after he's been so helpful and all?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she muttered.</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester said, "he's not dead. He's just in stasis—in +a state of totally suspended animation. As soon as +I take the spell off, he'll be all right. But I don't think +I'll take it off just yet. I've got plans for my little target-tosser."</p> + +<p>He reached over and touched the stiff body. It seemed +to rise a fraction of an inch, floating on the tips of the +grass. The wind stirred it a little, but it didn't float +away.</p> + +<p>"I took some of his weight off," Forrester explained, +"so he'll be a little easier to handle."</p> + +<p>Now Ed Symes was behaving as if he were a statue +carved out of cork. With a quick flip, Forrester turned +the statue over. The effect was exactly what he wanted. +Ed did not touch the grass at any point except one: the +point where his protuberant stomach most protruded. +Fore and aft, the rest of him was balanced stiffly in the +air.</p> + +<p>Forrester gazed at the sight, feeling fulfilled. "Now," he +said with a note of decision in his voice, "we are going +to play Spin-the-Bottle!"</p> + +<p>The girls giggled and laughed.</p> + +<p>"You mean with him?" Bette said.</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed. "That's right," he said patiently. +"With him."</p> + +<p>He got into position and looked up at the girls. "This +one's just for practice, so we can all see how it works." +He gave Symes's extended foot a little push.</p> + +<p><i>Whee!</i> he thought. Round and round the gentleman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +went, spinning quietly on his stomach, revolving in a +merry fashion while the girls and Forrester watched +silently. At last he slowed and stopped, his nose pointing +at Bette and his toes at Dorothy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my!" Dorothy said. "He's pointing at me!"</p> + +<p>"He is not!" Bette said decisively. "His head points +my way!"</p> + +<p>"But he—"</p> + +<p>"Temper, temper," Forrester said. "No arguments. That +one didn't count, anyhow—it was just to see how he +worked. And I do think he works very nicely, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Lord Dionysus," Kathy said. There was the +same undertone in her voice, as if she were silently +laughing at everything. She was, he told himself, an +extremely unlikable young woman.</p> + +<p>The other girls agreed in a chorus. They were still +studying the stiff body of Ed Symes. His stomach had +made a little depression in the grass as he whirled, and +he was now nicely bedded down for a real spin. Forrester +rubbed his hands together.</p> + +<p>"Fine," he said. "Now, all of you are going to be +judges."</p> + +<p>"Me, too?" Bette asked.</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. "The head will be the determining +factor. If our little Mr. Bottle's head points to any one +of you, that is the one I'll choose first."</p> + +<p>"See?" Bette said. "I told you it was his head."</p> + +<p>"Well, I couldn't tell before anybody said so," Dorothy +said. "And anyhow, I—"</p> + +<p>"Now, now, girls," Forrester said, feeling momentarily +like a Girl Scout troop leader. "Let's listen to the rules, +shall we? And then we can get down to playing the +game." He took a deep breath. "Isn't this fun?"</p> + +<p>The girls giggled.</p> + +<p>"Good," Forrester said. "If Mr. Bottle's head ends up +between two of you, then the other five girls will have to +decide which girl the head's nearer to. The two girls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +involved will remain absolutely quiet during the judging, +and if the other five can't come to a unanimous agreement, +we'll spin Mr. Bottle again. Understand?"</p> + +<p>"You mean if the head points at me, I get picked," +Bette said. "And if the head goes in between me and +somebody else, all the other girls have to decide who +gets picked."</p> + +<p>It was a masterly summation.</p> + +<p>"Right," Forrester said. "I'm going to give Mr. Bottle +a spin. This one counts. We'll have the second spin, and +the rest of them, later."</p> + +<p>"Gee!" Millicent whispered. "Isn't this <i>exciting</i>?"</p> + +<p>Forrester ignored the comment. "And remember, I +give you my word as a God that I will not interfere in any +way with the workings of chance. Is that clearly understood?"</p> + +<p>The girls murmured agreement.</p> + +<p>"Now," Forrester said, "all you girls get into a nice +circle. I'll stand outside."</p> + +<p>The girls took a minute or two arranging themselves +in a circle, arguing about who was going to sit next +to whom, and whose very proximity was bound to bring +bad luck. The argument gave Forrester a chance to check +on Gerda again. She was whispering softly to Alvin, but +they weren't touching each other. Forrester turned up +his hearing to get a better idea of what was going on.</p> + +<p>They had progressed, in the usual manner, from argument +to life-history. Gerda was telling Alvin all about +her past.</p> + +<p>"... but don't misunderstand me, Alvin. It's just that +I was in love with a very fine young man. An Athenan, +he was. A wonderful man, really wonderful. But he—he +was killed in a subway accident some months ago."</p> + +<p>"Gosh," Alvin said. "I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"I—I have to tell you this, Alvin, so you'll understand. +I still love him. He was wonderful. And until I get over +it, I simply can't ..."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>Feeling both ashamed of himself and pleased, as well +as sorry for the poor girl, Forrester quit listening. The +Gods had arranged his simulated death, which, of course, +had been a necessity. His disappearance had to be explained +somehow. But he didn't like the idea of Gerda +having to suffer so much.</p> + +<p><i>My God!</i> Forrester thought. <i>She still loves me!</i></p> + +<p>It was the first time he had ever heard her say so, +flatly, right out in the open. He wanted to bound and +leap and cavort—but he couldn't. He had to go back +to his seven beautiful girls.</p> + +<p>He had never felt less like it in his life.</p> + +<p>But at least, he consoled himself, Gerda was keeping +Alvin at arm's length. She was being faithful to his +memory.</p> + +<p>Faithful—because she loved him.</p> + +<p>Grimly, he turned back to the girls. "Well, are we +all ready now?"</p> + +<p>Kathy looked up at him brightly. "Lord Dionysus, +it's so dark I can't even see for sure what's going on. +How can we do any judging, if we can't see?"</p> + +<p>Forrester cursed Kathy for pointing out the flaw in his +arrangements. Then, making a nice impartial job of it, +he cursed himself for forgetting that what was perfectly +visible to him was dark night to mortals.</p> + +<p>"We can clear that up," he said quickly. "As a matter +of fact, I was just getting around to it. We will now +proceed to shed a little light on the subject—said subject +being our old friend Mr. Bottle."</p> + +<p>The trick had been taught to him by Venus, but he'd +never had a chance to practice it. This was his first +real experience with it, and he could only hope that +it went off as it was supposed to.</p> + +<p>He stepped into the middle of the circle, near Ed +Symes's stiff body and held his right hand above his +head, thumb and forefinger spread an inch apart and +the other three fingers folded into his palm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he concentrated.</p> + +<p>A long second ticked by, while Forrester tried to apply +even more neural pressure. Then ...</p> + +<p>A small ball of light appeared between his thumb and +forefinger, a yellow, cold sphere of fire that shed its +radiance over the whole group. Carefully, he withdrew +his hand, not daring to breathe. The ball of yellow fire +remained in position, hanging in mid-air.</p> + +<p>The muffled gasp from the circle of girls was, Forrester +told himself, a definite tribute.</p> + +<p>"Now don't worry about it, girls," he said. "That light's +only visible to the eight of us. Nobody else can see it."</p> + +<p>There was another little series of gasps.</p> + +<p>Forrester grinned. "Can everybody see each other?"</p> + +<p>A murmur of agreement.</p> + +<p>"Can everybody see Mr. Bottle here?"</p> + +<p>Another murmur.</p> + +<p>"In that case, let's go." He stepped outside the circle +of girls, reached in again for Ed Symes's foot, and set the +gentleman spinning once more.</p> + +<p>Symes spun with a blinding speed, making a low, +whistling noise. Forrester watched the body spin dizzily, +just as anxious as the girls were to find out who the first +winner was going to be. He thought of Millicent, who +chewed gum and made it pop. He thought of Bette, the +inveterate explainer and double-take expert. He tried +to think of Dorothy and Jayne and Beverly and Judy, +but the thought of Kathy, irritating and uncomfortable +and too damned bright for her own good, got annoyingly +in the way.</p> + +<p>He was rather glad he had promised not to use his +powers on the spinning figure. He was not at all sure +which one of the girls he would have picked for Number +One.</p> + +<p>And he had, after all, given his word as a God. True, +he wasn't quite a God, only a demi-Deity. But he did +feel that Dionysus might object to his name being used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +in vain. A promise, he told himself sternly and with some +relief, was a promise.</p> + +<p>After some time, Mr. Ed (Bottle) Symes began to +slow perceptibly. The whistling died as Symes began +rotating about his abdominal axis at a more and more +leisurely rate. Seconds passed. Symes faced Bette ... +Millicent ... Kathy ... Judy ... Bette again ...</p> + +<p>Forrester watched, fascinated.</p> + +<p>Finally, Symes came to a halt. All the elaborate instructions +in case the Bottle ended up pointing between two +girls had been, Forrester saw, totally unnecessary. Symes's +head was pointing at one girl, and one girl alone.</p> + +<p>She gave a little squeal of delight. The others began +chorusing their congratulations at once, looking no more +convincing than the runners-up in any beauty contest. +Their smiles appeared to have been glued on loosely, +and their voices lacked a certain something. Possibly it +was sincerity.</p> + +<p>"All right, that's it for now." Forrester turned to the +winner. "My congratulations," he said, wondering just +what he was supposed to say. Not finding any appropriate +words, he turned back to the group of six losers. "The +rest of you girls can do me a big favor. Go get a couple +of the Myrmidons to protect you, hunt around for the +nearest wine barrel and confiscate it for me. It's been a +thirsty day."</p> + +<p>"Gee," Jayne said. "Sure we will, Lord Dionysus."</p> + +<p>"Now take your time," Forrester said, and the losers +all giggled at once, like a trained chorus. Forrester +grimaced. "Don't come back till you find a barrel. Then +we'll play the game again."</p> + +<p>In a disappointed fashion, the six of them trooped off +into the darkness and vanished to mortal eyes. Forrester +watched them go and then turned to the winner, feeling +just a little uncertain.</p> + +<p>"Well, Kathy," he started. "I—"</p> + +<p>She flung herself on him with the avid girlishness of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +a Bengal tiger. "I have dreamed of this night since I was +but a child! At last I am in your arms! I love you! Take +me! I am yours, all yours!"</p> + +<p>"That's nice," Forrester said, taken far aback by the +girl's sudden onslaught. His immediate impulse was to +unwind Kathy and set her back on her own feet, some +little distance away, after which he could start again +on a more leisurely basis. After all, he told himself, people +ought to spend more time getting to know each other.</p> + +<p>But he remembered, just in time, that he was Dionysus. +He conquered his first impulse and put his arms around +her. As he did so, he discovered that his face was being +covered with kisses. Kathy was murmuring little indistinct +terms of endearment into his ear every time she reached +it en route from one side of his face to the other.</p> + +<p>Forrester swallowed hard, tightened his grip and +planted his lips firmly on Kathy's. A blaze of startling heat +shot through him.</p> + +<p>In a small corner at the back of his mind, a scroll +unrolled. On it was written what Vulcan had told him +about his mental attitude changing after Investiture. +When he had been plain William Forrester, an attack like +the one Kathy was making on him had pretty much +chilled him for a while. But now he found himself definitely +rising to the occasion.</p> + +<p>There was a passion to her kiss that he had never felt +before, a rising tide of flame that threatened to char him. +The movement of her mouth on his sent new fires burning +throughout his body, and as her hands moved on him +he was awakened to a new world, a world of consuming +desires.</p> + +<p>He wished his own clothing away, and fumbled for a +second at the two fastenings that held Kathy's <i>chiton</i> +in place. Then it was gone and there was nothing between +them. They met, flesh to flesh, in a fiery embrace that +grew as he forced her down and she responded eagerly, +wildly, to his every motion. His lips traveled over her;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +her entire body was drowning him once and for all in +an unbelievable red haze, unlike anything he had ever +before experienced ... a great wave of passion that +went on and on, rising to a peak he had never dreamed +of until his body shivered with the sensations, and he +pressed on, rising still higher in an ecstasy beyond +measure....</p> + +<p>His last spasm of tension turned out the God-light.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>She lay in his arms on the grass, holding him +almost as tightly as he held her. He felt exhausted, but +he knew perfectly well that he wasn't. A God was a God, +after all, and Kathy was only the hors d'oeuvres of a +seven-course dinner.</p> + +<p>"You're wonderful," Kathy said in a soft whisper at +his ear. "Absolutely wonderful. More wonderful than +I could ever dream. I—"</p> + +<p>She was interrupted by a strange, harsh voice that +bellowed from somewhere nearby.</p> + +<p>"All right, bitch!" it said. "Get the hell up from there! +And you too, buster!"</p> + +<p>Forrester jerked his head up in astonishment and froze. +Kathy looked up, fright written all over her face.</p> + +<p>The man standing over them in the darkness looked +like a prize-fighter, one who had taken a number of +beatings, but always given better than he had received. +His arms were akimbo, his feet planted as firmly as if +he were a particularly stubborn brand of tree. He glared +down at them, his face expressive of anger, hatred—and, +Forrester thought dully, a complete lack of respect for +his God.</p> + +<p>The man barked: "You heard what I said! On your feet, +buster! If I have to kick your teeth in, I want to do it +when you're standing up!"</p> + +<p>Forrester's jaw dropped. Then, as the initial shock +left him, anger boiled in to take its place. He toyed with +the idea of blasting this mortal who showed such disrespect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +to a God. He sprang to his feet, ready to move, +and then stopped.</p> + +<p>Maybe the man was crazy. Maybe he was just some +poor soul who wasn't responsible for his own actions. It +would be merciful, Forrester thought, to find out first, +and blast the intruder afterward.</p> + +<p>He looked around. Twenty yards away, the encircling +Myrmidons still stood, their backs to the scene, as if +nothing at all were going on.</p> + +<p>Forrester blinked. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"</p> + +<p>The man barked a laugh. "None of your business." He +turned to Kathy, who had devoted the previous few +seconds to getting her <i>chiton</i> on again. Hurriedly, Forrester +wished back his own costume. Kathy got up, staring +straight back at the intruder. Fear was gone from her +face, and a kind of calmness that Forrester had never +seen before possessed her now.</p> + +<p>"So!" the intruder bellowed. "The minute my back is +turned, off you go! By the Stars and Galaxy, I—I don't +know what to call you! You're worse than your predecessor! +Can't turn anything down! You—"</p> + +<p>"Now wait!" Forrester bellowed in his most Godlike +voice. "Just hold still there! Do you know who you're +talking to? How dare you—"</p> + +<p>And Kathy interrupted him. Forrester stood mute as +she stripped the stranger with a voice like scalding acid. +"Listen, you," she said, pointing a finger at the man. +"Who do you think you are—my husband?"</p> + +<p>"By the Stars—" the stranger began.</p> + +<p>"Don't bother trying to scare me with your big mouth," +Kathy went on imperturbably. "You don't mean a thing +to me and you can't order me around. What's more, you +know it. You're not my husband, you big thug—and +you're never going to be. I'll sleep with whomever I +please, and whenever I please, and wherever I please, +and that's the way things are going to be. After all, +lard-head, it's my job, isn't it? Got any questions?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her <i>job</i>?</p> + +<p>Forrester began to wonder just what he had managed +to walk into now. But that was a detail. The important +thing was that his Godhood had been grossly, unbelievably +insulted—and at a damned inconvenient time, too!</p> + +<p>He stepped between Kathy and the intruder, his eyes +flashing fire. "Do you know who I am? Do you know +that—"</p> + +<p>"Of course he knows," Kathy put in abruptly. "And if +you don't want to get hurt, I'd advise you to stay out +of this little quarrel."</p> + +<p>Forrester turned and stared at her.</p> + +<p>What the everlasting bloody hell was going <i>on</i>?</p> + +<p>But there wasn't any time to think. The intruder put +his face up near Forrester's and glared at him. "Sure I +know who you are, buster," he said. "You're a wise guy. +You're a Johnny-come-lately. And I know what I ought +to do with you, too—take you apart, limb by limb!"</p> + +<p>That did it. Forrester, seeing several shades of red, +decided that no God could possibly object if this ugly +blasphemer were blasted off the face of the Earth. He +raised a hand.</p> + +<p>And Kathy grabbed it. "<i>Don't!</i>" she said in a frightened +tone.</p> + +<p>The intruder grinned wolfishly at him. "Pay no attention +to Little Miss Sacktime over there, Forrester. +You go right ahead and try it! All I need is an excuse +to vaporize you. Just one tiny little excuse—and I'll do the +job so damn quick, your head won't even have time +to start swimming." He set himself. "Go on. Let's see your +stuff, Forrester."</p> + +<p>Forrester's arm came down, without his being aware +of it. There was only room in his mind for one thought.</p> + +<p>The intruder had called him Forrester.</p> + +<p>Where had he gotten the name?</p> + +<p>And, for that matter, how had he seen the two of them +in the darkness?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>While the questions were still spinning in Forrester's +mind, Kathy threw herself forward between him and the +stranger. "Ares!" she screamed. "You stupid, jealous +idiot! Get some sense into that battle-scarred brain of +yours! Are you completely crazy?"</p> + +<p>"Now you listen to me—" the stranger began.</p> + +<p>"Listen, nothing! If you want to pick a fight, do it +with me—I can fight back! But if you lay a hand on +Forrester, we'll never find another—"</p> + +<p>The stranger reached out casually and clamped one +huge paw over her mouth. "Shut up," he said, almost +quietly. He glanced at Forrester and went on, in the +same tone: "Don't give away everything you've got, +chum."</p> + +<p>A second passed and then he took the hand away. +Kathy said nothing at all for a moment, and then she +nodded.</p> + +<p>"All right," she said. "You're right. We shouldn't be +losing our tempers just now. But I didn't start—"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you?" the stranger said.</p> + +<p>Kathy shrugged. "Well, never mind it now." She +turned to Forrester. "You know who we are now, don't +you?"</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded very slowly. How else could the man +have come through the cordon of Myrmidons and seen +them in the darkness? How else would he have dared +to face up to Dionysus—confident that he could beat him? +And how else could all this argument have gone on without +anyone hearing it?</p> + +<p>For that matter, why else would the argument have +begun—unless the stranger and Kathy were—</p> + +<p>"Sure," he said, as if he had known it all along. "You're +Mars and Venus."</p> + +<p>He could feel cold death approaching.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN" id="CHAPTER_TEN"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> + + +<p class="cap">William Forrester sat, quite alone, in the room which +had been given him on Mount Olympus. He stared +out of the window, a little smaller than the window in +Venus' rooms, at the Grecian plain far below, without +actually seeing. There was no vertigo this time; small +matters like that couldn't bother him.</p> + +<p>The whole room was rather a small one, as Gods' +rooms went, but it had the same varicolored shifting +walls, the same furniture that appeared when you approached +it. Forrester was beginning to get used to it +now, and he didn't know if it was going to do him any +good.</p> + +<p>He peered down, trying to discern the patrolling Myrmidons +around the base and lower slopes of the mountain, +placed there to discourage overeager climbers from trying +to reach the home of the Gods. Of course he couldn't +see them, and after a while he lost interest again. Matters +were too serious to allow time for that kind of game.</p> + +<p>The Autumn Bacchanal was over, a thing of the past, +on the way to the distortion of legend. Forrester's greatest +triumph had ended—in his greatest fiasco.</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes as he sat in his room, the fluctuating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +colors on the walls going unappreciated. He had nothing +to do now except wait for the final judgment of the +Gods.</p> + +<p>At first he had been terrified. But terror could only last +so long, and, as the time ticked by, the idea of that +coming judgment had almost stopped troubling his mind. +Either he had passed the tests or he hadn't. There was +no point in worrying about the inevitable. He felt anesthetized, +numb to any sensation of personal danger. There +was nothing whatever he could do. The Gods had him; +very well, let the Gods worry about what to do with him.</p> + +<p>Freed, his mind turned over and over a problem that +seemed new to him at first. Gradually, he realized it +wasn't new at all; it had been somewhere in the back +of his thoughts from the very first, when Venus had told +him that he had been chosen as a double for Dionysus, so +many months ago. It seemed like years to Forrester, and +yet, at the same time, like no more than hours. So much +had happened, and so much had changed....</p> + +<p>But the question had remained, waiting until he could +look at it and work with it. Now he could face that strange +doubt in his mind, the doubt that had colored everything +since his introduction to the Gods, that had grown +as his training in demi-Godhood had progressed, and +that was now, for the first time, coming to full consciousness. +Every time it had come near the surface, before this +day, he had expelled it from his mind, forcefully getting +rid of it without realizing fully that he was doing so.</p> + +<p>And perhaps, he thought, the doubt had begun even +earlier than that. Perhaps he had always doubted, and +never allowed himself to think about the doubt. The +floor of his mind seemed to open and he was falling, +falling....</p> + +<p>But where the doubt had begun was unimportant now. +It was present, it had grown; that was all that mattered. +He could find facts to feed the doubt and strengthen it, +and he looked at the facts one by one:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>First there was the angry conversation between Mars +and Venus, on the night of the Bacchanal.</p> + +<p>He could still hear what Mars had said:</p> + +<p>"<i>... worse than your predecessor.</i>"</p> + +<p>And then he'd shut Venus up before she gave away +too much—realizing, maybe, that he had given away a +good deal himself. That one little sentence was enough +to bring everything into question, Forrester thought.</p> + +<p>He had wondered why it had been necessary to have a +double for Dionysus, but he hadn't actually thought about +it; maybe he hadn't wanted to think about it. But now, +with the notion of a "predecessor" for Venus in his mind, +he <i>had</i> to think about it, and the only conclusion he +could come to was a disturbing one. It did more than +disturb him, as a matter of fact—it frightened him. He +wanted desperately to find some flaw in the conclusion +he faced, because he feared it even more than he feared +the coming judgment of the Pantheon.</p> + +<p>But there wasn't any flaw. The facts meshed together +entirely too well to be an accidental pattern.</p> + +<p>In the first place, he thought, why had he been picked +for the job? He was a nobody, of no importance, with +no special gifts. Why did he deserve the honor of +taking his place beside Hercules and Achilles and Odysseus +and the other great heroes? Forrester knew he +wasn't any hero. But what gave him his standing?</p> + +<p>And, he went on, there was a second place. In the +months of his training he had met fourteen of the Gods—all +of them, except for Dionysus. Now, what kind of +sense did that make? Anyone who's going to have a +double usually trains the double himself, if it's at all +possible. Or, at the very least, he allows the double to +watch his actions, so that the double can do a really +competent job of imitation.</p> + +<p>And if an imitation is all that's needed, why not hire +an actor instead of a history professor?</p> + +<p>Vulcan had told him: "You were picked not merely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +for your physical resemblance to Dionysus, but your +psychological resemblance as well."</p> + +<p>That had to be true, if only because, as far as Forrester +could see, nobody had the slightest reason to lie about +it. But why should it be true? What advantage did +the Gods get out of that "psychological resemblance"? +All he was supposed to be was a double—and anybody +who <i>looked</i> like Dionysus would be accepted <i>as</i> Dionysus +by the people. The "psychological resemblance" didn't +have a single thing to do with it.</p> + +<p>Mars, Venus, Vulcan—even Zeus had dropped clues. +Zeus had referred to him as a "substitute for Dionysus."</p> + +<p>A substitute, he realized with a kind of horror, was not +at all the same thing as a double.</p> + +<p>The answer was perfectly clear, but there were even +more facts to bolster it. Why had he been tested, for +instance, <i>after</i> he had been made a demi-God? In spite +of what Vulcan had said, was he slated for further honors +if he passed the new tests? He was sure that Vulcan had +been telling the truth as far as he'd gone—but it hadn't +been the whole truth. Forrester was certain of that now.</p> + +<p>And what was it that Venus had said during that +argument with Mars? Something about not killing Forrester, +because then they would have to "get another—"</p> + +<p>Another <i>what</i>?</p> + +<p>Another <i>substitute</i>?</p> + +<p>No, there was no escape from the simple and obvious +conclusion. Dionysus was either missing, which was bad +enough, or something much worse.</p> + +<p>He was dead.</p> + +<p>Forrester shivered. The idea of an immortal God dying +was, in one way, as horrible a notion as he could imagine. +But in another way, it seemed to make a good deal of +sense. As far as plain William Forrester had been concerned, +the contradiction in the notion of a dead immortal +would have made it ridiculous to start with. But the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +demi-God Dionysus had a somewhat different slant on +things.</p> + +<p>After all, as Vulcan had told him, a demi-God could +die. And if that was true, then why couldn't a God die +too? Perhaps it would take quite a lot to kill a God—but +the difference would be one of degree, not of kind.</p> + +<p>It seemed wholly logical. And it led, Forrester saw, to +a new conclusion, one that required a little less effort to +face than he thought it would. It should have shaken +the foundations of his childhood and left him dizzy, but +somehow it didn't. How long, he asked himself, had +he been secretly doubting the fact that the Gods were +Gods?</p> + +<p>At least in the sense they pretended to be, the "Gods" +were not gods at all. They were—something else.</p> + +<p>But what? Where did they come from?</p> + +<p>Were they actually the Gods of ancient Greece, as they +claimed? Forrester wanted to throw that claim out with +the rest, but when he thought things over he didn't see +why he should. To an almost indestructible being, three +thousand years may only be a long time.</p> + +<p>So the Gods actually were "Gods," at least as far as +longevity went. But the decision didn't get him very far; +there were still a lot of questions unanswered, and no +way that he could see of answering them.</p> + +<p>Or, rather, there was one way, but it was hellishly +dangerous. He had no business even thinking about. He +was in enough hot water already.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless....</p> + +<p>What more harm could he do to his chances? After +the Bacchanal fiasco, there was probably a sentence of +death hanging over his head anyhow. And they couldn't +do any more to him than kill him.</p> + +<p>It was ridiculous, he told himself, with a return of +caution and sanity. But the notion came back, nagging at +his mind, and at last it took a new form.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Gods had the rest of the information he needed. +He had to go to one of them—but which one?</p> + +<p>His first thought was Venus. But, after a moment of +thought, he ruled her regretfully out as a possibility. +After all, there was Mars' mention of her "predecessor." +If that meant anything, it meant that the current Venus +wasn't the original one. She would have a lot less information +than one of the original Gods.</p> + +<p><i>If there were any originals left....</i></p> + +<p>He tabled that thought hurriedly and went on. Vulcan +had told him at least a part of the truth, and Vulcan +looked like a good bet. Forrester didn't like the idea of +bearding the artisan in his workshop; it made him feel +uncomfortable, and after a while he put his finger on +the reason. His little liaison with Venus made him feel +guilty. There was, he knew, no real reason for it. In the +first place, he hadn't known the girl was Venus, and in +the second place she may not have been the same one +who had been Vulcan's original wife, thirty and more +centuries ago.</p> + +<p>But the guilt remained, and he tabled Vulcan for the +time being and went on.</p> + +<p>Morpheus, Hera, and most of the others he passed by +without a glance; there was no reason for them to dislike +him, but there was no reason for comradeship, either. +Mars popped into his mind, and popped right out again. +That would be putting his head in the lion's mouth with +a vengeance.</p> + +<p>No, there was only one left, the obvious choice, the +one who had helped him throughout his training period—Diana. +She genuinely seemed to like him. She was +also a good kid. The thought alone was almost enough +to make him smile fondly, and would have if he had +not remembered the peril he was in.</p> + +<p>He turned away from the window to look at the color-swirled +wall across the room. He had remained in his +room ever since Mars and Venus had brought him back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +from New York, and he wasn't at all sure that he could +leave it. In the normal sense of the word, the place had +neither exits nor entrances. The only way of getting in or +out of the place was via the Veils of Heaven—matter +transmitters, not something supernatural, he realized now.</p> + +<p>As far as Forrester knew, they still worked. But the +Gods could generate a Veil anywhere, at any time. Forrester, +as a demi-God, could only will one into existence +on sufferance; he could only work the matter-transmitting +Veils if the Gods permitted him to do so. If they didn't, +he was trapped.</p> + +<p>Well, he told himself, there was one way to find out.</p> + +<p>He walked over to the wall and stood a few feet away +from it, concentrating in the way he had been taught. He +was still slower at it than the Gods themselves, and +hadn't developed the knack of forming a Veil as he +walked toward the place where he wanted it to be, as +they had.</p> + +<p>But he knew he could do it—if he was still allowed to.</p> + +<p>Minutes went by.</p> + +<p>Then, as the blue sheet of neural energy flickered into +being, Forrester slumped in sudden relief. He took a +deep breath and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>The Veil was there—but was it what he hoped, or a +trick? Possibly he could focus the other terminal where +he wanted it, but there was also the chance that the Gods +had set the thing up so that, when he stepped through, +he would be standing in the Court of the Gods facing a +tribunal for which he was totally unprepared.</p> + +<p>It would be just like the Pantheon, he thought, to pull +a lousy trick like that.</p> + +<p>But there was no point in dithering. If death was to be +his fate, that would be that. He could do nothing at all +by sitting in his room and waiting for them to come and +get him.</p> + +<p>He focused the exit terminal in Diana's apartment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +There was no way of knowing whether the focus worked +or not until he stepped through.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes and walked into the Veil.</p> + +<p>He felt almost disappointed when he looked around +him. He had steeled himself to do great battle with the +Gods—and, instead, he was where he had wanted to be, +in Diana's apartment.</p> + +<p>She was standing with her back to him, and Forrester +didn't make a sound, not wanting to startle the Goddess. +She was totally unclad, her glorious body shining in the +light of the room, her blue-black hair unbound and falling +halfway down her gently curved back. But she must have +heard him somehow, for she turned, and for half a second +she stood facing him.</p> + +<p>Forrester did not move. He couldn't even breathe.</p> + +<p>Every magnificent curve was highlighted in a frozen +tableau.</p> + +<p>Then there was a sudden flash of white, and she was +clad in a clinging <i>chiton</i> which, Forrester saw, served +only to remind one of what one had recently seen. It +worked very well, although Forrester did not think he +had any need for an aid to his memory.</p> + +<p>"My goodness!" Diana said. "You shouldn't surprise a +girl like that! I mean, you really gave me a shock, kid!"</p> + +<p>Forrester took his first breath. "Well," he said, "I could +be dishonest, not to mention ungallant, and tell you I +was sorry."</p> + +<p>"But?" Diana said.</p> + +<p>"Being of sound mind and sound body, I'm a long way +from being sorry."</p> + +<p>And Diana dropped her eyes and blushed.</p> + +<p>Forrester could barely believe it.</p> + +<p>But it did show a part of the Goddess's personality that +was entirely new to him. He was sure that any of the +Gods or Goddesses could sense when a Veil of Heaven +was forming near them, and get prepared before it was +well enough developed to allow for passage. But Diana—who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +was, after all, one of the traditionally virgin Goddesses, +like Pallas Athena—had chosen to pretend surprise.</p> + +<p>Forrester had a further hunch, too. He thought she +might have deliberately vanished her <i>chiton</i> only a second +or so before he entered. And that put a different—and a +very interesting—face on things.</p> + +<p>Not to mention, he thought, an entire figure.</p> + +<p>But he didn't say anything. That wasn't his main +business in Diana's apartment. Instead, he watched her +smile briskly and say: "Well, you're here, anyhow, kid, +and I guess that's enough for me. Want a drink? I could +whip up some nectar—and maybe an ambrosia sandwich?"</p> + +<p>"I'll take the drink," Forrester said. "I'm not really +hungry, thanks."</p> + +<p>Diana held out her hands, fingers curved inward, and +a crystal cup of clear, golden liquid appeared in each—matter +transmission, of course, not magic. She handed +one over to Forrester, who took it and looked the +Goddess straight in the eyes.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he said. "Diana, I've got some questions to +ask you, and I hope I'll get the answers."</p> + +<p>She touched the rim of her cup to his. Her voice was +very soft, but she didn't hesitate in the least. "I'll answer +any questions I have to. Sit down."</p> + +<p>They found chairs along the walls of the room and sat +facing one another. Forrester took a sip of his drink, +settled back, and tried to think where to begin. Well, +God or no God, Zeus had the key to that one. He had +said it years ago, and it had passed almost into legend:</p> + +<p>"Begin at the beginning, go on until you reach the end, +and then stop."</p> + +<p>Very well, Forrester thought. He cleared his throat. +Diana looked at him inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how far into the noose I'm putting my +head with this one, Diana," he said. "But I trust you—and +I've got to ask somebody."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go ahead," she said quietly.</p> + +<p>"First question. The original Dionysus is dead, +isn't he?"</p> + +<p>She paused for a moment before answering. "Yes, +he is."</p> + +<p>"And I was scheduled to take his place."</p> + +<p>"That's right."</p> + +<p>"As a full God," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>Diana nodded.</p> + +<p>There was a little silence.</p> + +<p>"Diana," Forrester said, "what are the Gods?"</p> + +<p>She got up and crossed to the window. Looking out, +she said: "Before I answer that, I want you to tell me +what you think we are."</p> + +<p>"Men and women," he said. "More or less human, like +myself. Except you've somehow managed to get so far +ahead of any kind of science Earth knows that, even +today, your effects can only be explained as 'magic' or +'miracle.'"</p> + +<p>"How could we get that far ahead of you?"</p> + +<p>Forrester took a leap in the dark to the only conclusion +he could see. "You're not from Earth," he said. "You're +from another planet." The words sounded strange in his +own ears—but Diana didn't even act surprised.</p> + +<p>"That's right," she said. "We're from another planet—or, +rather, from several other planets."</p> + +<p>"<i>Several?</i>" Forrester exclaimed. "But—oh. I see. Pan, +for instance—"</p> + +<p>Diana nodded. "Pan isn't even really humanoid. His +home is a planet where his type of goatlike life evolved. +Neither Pluto nor Neptune is humanoid, either; they're a +little closer than Pan, but not really very close when you +get a good look. The rest of the Gods are humanoid—but +not human."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," Forrester said. "Venus is human. Or, +anyhow, she's a replacement, just the way I was slated to +be a replacement for Dionysus."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>Diana drained her cup and clapped her hands together +on it. The cup vanished. Forrester did the same to his +own. "Correct," she said. "Venus just—just disappeared +once. They got an Etruscan girl to replace her. She's not +the only replacement, either."</p> + +<p>Forrester stared. "Who else?"</p> + +<p>"You tell me."</p> + +<p>He thought the list of Gods over. "Zeus," he said.</p> + +<p>Diana smiled. "Yes, Zeus is a long way from the great +hero of the legends, isn't he? Using the old calendar, +Zeus died in about 1100 <span class="smcap">b.c.</span>, not too long after the close +of the Trojan War. As far as anybody knows, Neptune +did the actual killing, but it's pretty clear that the original +idea wasn't his."</p> + +<p>"Hera's," Forrester guessed.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Diana said. "What she wanted was a +figurehead she could control—and that's what she got. +Though I'm not sure she's entirely happy with the +change. If the original Zeus was a little harder to control, +at least he seems to have had an original thought now +and again."</p> + +<p>Forrester sat quietly for a time, waiting for the shock +to pass. "What about Dionysus?"</p> + +<p>Diana shrugged. "He—well, as far as anybody's ever +been able to tell, it was suicide. About three years ago, +and it drove Hera pretty wild, trying to find a substitute +in a hurry. I suspect he was bored with the wine, women +and song. He'd had a long time of it. And, too, he'd had +some little disagreements with Hera. As you may have +gathered, she is not exactly a safe person to have as an +enemy. He probably figured she'd get him sooner or later, +so he might as well save her the trouble."</p> + +<p>"And Hera had to rush to get a replacement? Why +couldn't there just have been some sort of explanation, +while the rest of you ran things?"</p> + +<p>"Because the rest of us couldn't run things. Not for +long, anyhow. It's all a question of power."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Power?" Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"Everything we have," Diana said, "is derived, directly +or indirectly, from the workings of one machine. Though +'machine' is a long way from the right word for it—it +bears about as much resemblance to what you think of as +a machine as a television set does to a window. There +just isn't a word for it in any language you know."</p> + +<p>"And all the Gods have to work the machine at once?"</p> + +<p>"Something like that." Diana came back from the +window and sat down facing him again. "It operates +through the nervous systems of the beings in circuit with +it, each one of them in contact with one of the power +nodes of the machine. And if one of the nodes is unoccupied, +then the machine's out of balance. It will run for +a while, but eventually it will simply wreck itself. Every +one of the fifteen nodes has to be occupied. Otherwise—chaos."</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. "So when Dionysus died—"</p> + +<p>"We had to find a replacement in a hurry. The machine's +been running out of balance for about as long as +it can stand right now."</p> + +<p>Forrester closed his eyes. "I'm not sure I get the picture."</p> + +<p>"Well, look at it this way: suppose you have a wheel."</p> + +<p>"All right," Forrester said obligingly. "I have a wheel."</p> + +<p>"And this wheel has fifteen weights on it. They're +spaced equally around the rim, and the wheel's revolving +at high speed."</p> + +<p>Forrester kept his eyes closed. When he had the wheel +nicely spinning, he said: "Okay. Now what?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Diana said, "as long as the weights stay in +place, the wheel spins evenly. But if you remove one of +the weights, the wheel's out of balance. It starts to +wobble."</p> + +<p>Forrester took one of the weights (Dionysus, a rather +large, jolly weight) off the wheel in his mind. It wobbled. +"Right," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It can take the wobble for a little while. But unless +the balance is restored in time, the wheel will eventually +break."</p> + +<p>Hurriedly, Forrester put Dionysus back on the wheel. +The wobble stopped. "Oh," he said. "I see."</p> + +<p>"Our power machine works in that sort of way. That +is, it requires all fifteen occupants. Dionysus has been +dead for three years now, and that's about the outside +limit. Unless he's replaced soon, the machine will be +ruined."</p> + +<p>Forrester opened his eyes. The wheel spun away and +disappeared. "So you found me to replace Dionysus. I +had to look like him, so the mortals wouldn't see any +difference. And the psychological similarity—"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Diana said. "It's the same as the wheel +again. If you remove a weight, you've got to put back +a weight of the same magnitude. Otherwise, the wheel's +still out of balance."</p> + +<p>"And since the power machine works through the +nervous system—"</p> + +<p>"The governing factor is that similarity. You've got to +be of the same magnitude as Dionysus. Of course, you +don't have to be an <i>identical</i> copy. The machine can be +adjusted for <i>slight</i> differences."</p> + +<p>"I see," Forrester said. "And the fifteen power nodes—" +Another idea occurred to him. "Wait a minute. If there +are only fifteen power nodes, then how come there were +so many different Gods and Goddesses among the +Greeks? There were a lot more than fifteen back then."</p> + +<p>"Of course there were," Diana said, "but they weren't +real Gods. As a matter of fact, some of them didn't really +exist."</p> + +<p>Forrester frowned. "How's that again?"</p> + +<p>"They were just disguises for one of the regular fifteen. +Aesculapius, for instance, the old God of medicine, was +Hermes/Mercury in disguise—he took the name in honor +of a physician of the time. He would have raised the man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +to demi-Godhood, but Aesculapius died unexpectedly, +and we thought taking his 'spirit' into the Pantheon was +good public relations."</p> + +<p>"How about the others?" Forrester said. "They weren't +all disguises, were they?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Some of them were demi-Gods, just +like yourself. Their power was derived, like yours, from +the Pantheon instead of directly through the machine. +And then there were the satyrs and centaurs, and suchlike +beings. That was public relations, too—mainly Zeus' +idea, I understand. The original Zeus, of course."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>"The satyrs and such were artificial life-forms, created, +maintained and controlled by the machine itself. It's +equipped with what you might call a cybernetic brain—although +that's pretty inadequate as a description. Vulcan +could do a better job of explaining."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly all right. I don't understand that kind of +thing anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Well, in that case, let me put it this way. The machine +controlled these artificial forms, but they could be taken +over by any one of the Gods or demi-Gods for special +purposes. As I say, it was public relations—and a good +way to keep the populace impressed—and under control."</p> + +<p>"The creatures aren't around nowadays," Forrester +pointed out.</p> + +<p>"Nowadays we don't need them," Diana said. "There +are other methods—better public relations, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Forrester didn't know he was going to ask his next +question until he heard himself doing so. But it was the +question he really wanted to ask; he knew that as soon +as he knew he asked it.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he said.</p> + +<p>Diana looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Why? +What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why go on being Gods? Why dominate humanity?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I could answer your question with another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +question—why not? But I won't. Instead, let me remind +you of some things. Look what we've done during the last +century. The great wars that wrecked Europe—you don't +see any possibility of more of those, do you? And the +threat of atomic war is gone, too, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," Forrester said, "but—"</p> + +<p>"But we still have wars," Diana said. "Sure we do. The +male animal just wouldn't be happy if he didn't have a +chance to go out and get himself blown to bits once in a +while. Don't ask <i>me</i> to explain that—I'm not a male."</p> + +<p>Forrester agreed silently. Diana was not a male. It was +the most understated statement he had ever heard.</p> + +<p>"But anyhow," Diana said, "they want wars, so they +have wars. Mars sees that the wars stay small and keep +within the Martian Conventions, though, so any really +widespread damage or destruction, or any wanton attacks +on civilians, are a thing of the past. And it's not only +wars, kid. It's everything."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, everything?"</p> + +<p>"Man needs a god, a personal god. When he doesn't +have one ready to hand, he makes one up—and look at +the havoc that has caused. A god of vengeance, a god +who cheers you on to kill your enemies.... You've studied +history. Tell me about the gods of various nations. Tell +me about Thor and Baal and the original bloodthirsty +Yahweh. People <i>need</i> gods."</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute," Forrester objected. "The Chinese—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure," Diana said. "There are exceptions. But you +can't bank on the exceptions. If you want a reasonably +safe, sane and happy humanity, then you'd better make +sure your gods are not going to start screaming for war +against the neighbors or against the infidels or against—well, +against anybody and everybody. There's only one +way to make sure, kid. We've found that way. We <i>are</i> +the Gods."</p> + +<p>Forrester digested that one slowly. "It sounds great,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +but it's pretty altruistic. And while I don't want to impugn +anybody's motives, it does seem to me that—"</p> + +<p>"That we ought to be getting something out of it +ourselves, above and beyond the pure joy of helping +humanity. Sure. You're perfectly right. And we <i>do</i> get +something out of it."</p> + +<p>"Like what?"</p> + +<p>Diana grinned. She looked more like a tomboy than +ever before. "Fun," she said. "And you know it. Don't +tell me you didn't get a kick out of playing God at the +Bacchanal."</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester confessed, "yes." He sighed. "And I +guess that Bacchanal is going to be the one really high +spot in a very shortened sort of life."</p> + +<p>Diana sat upright. "What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"What else would I be talking about? The Bacchanal. +You know what happened. You must know—everybody +must by now. Mars is probably demanding my head from +Hera right now. Unless he's got more complicated ideas +like taking me apart limb by limb. I remember he +mentioned that."</p> + +<p>Diana stood up and came over to Forrester. "Why +would Mars do something like that and especially now? +And what makes you think Hera would go along with him +if he did?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? Now that I've failed my tests—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Failed?</i>" Diana cried. "You <i>haven't</i> failed!"</p> + +<p>Forrester stood up shakily. "Of course I have. After +what happened at the Bacchanal, I—"</p> + +<p>"Don't pay any attention to that," Diana said. "Mars is +a louse. Always has been, I hear. Nobody likes him. As +a matter of fact, you've just passed your finals. The last +test was to see if you could figure out who we were—and +you've done that, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>There was a long, taut silence.</p> + +<p>Then Diana laughed. "Your face looks the way mine +must have, over three thousand years ago!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" Still dazed, he wasn't +quite sure he had heard her rightly.</p> + +<p>"When they told me the same thing. After the original +Diana was killed in a 'hunting accident'—frankly, she +seems to have been too independent to suit Hera—and +I passed my own finals, I—"</p> + +<p>She stopped.</p> + +<p>"Now don't look at me like that," Diana said. "And pull +yourself together, because we've got to get to the Final +Investiture. But it's all true. I'm a substitute too."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN"></a>CHAPTER ELEVEN</h2> + + +<p class="cap">The Great God Dionysus, Lord of the Vine, Ruler of +the Revels, Master of the Planting and the Harvest, +Bestower of the Golden Touch, Overseer of the Poor, +Comforter of the Worker and Patron of the Drunkard, +sat silently in a cheap bar on Lower Third Avenue, New +York, slowly imbibing his seventh brandy-and-soda. It +tasted anything but satisfactory as it went down; he +preferred vodka or even gin, but after all, he asked +himself, if a God couldn't be loyal to his own products, +then who could?</p> + +<p>He was dressed in an inexpensive brown suit, and his +face did not look like that of Dionysus, or even of William +Forrester. Though neatly turned out, he looked a little +like an out-of-work bookkeeper. But it was obvious that +he hadn't been out of work for very long.</p> + +<p><i>Hell of a note</i>, he thought, <i>when a God has to skulk in +some cheap bar just because some other God has it in +for him</i>.</p> + +<p>But that, unfortunately, was the way Mars was. It +didn't matter to him that none of what happened had +been Forrester's fault. In the first place, Forrester hadn't +known that the girl at the Bacchanal had been Venus +until it was much too late for apologies. In the second<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +place, he hadn't even picked her; he'd kept his promise +not to use his powers on the spinning figure of Mr. Bottle +Symes. But Venus had made no such promise. Venus had +rigged the game.</p> + +<p>But try explaining that to Mars.</p> + +<p>He didn't seem to mind what went on at the Revels of +Aphrodite—being Goddess of Love was her line of work, +and even Mars appeared to recognize that much. But he +didn't like the idea of any extracurricular work, especially +with other Gods. And if anything occurred, he, Mars, +was sure damned well going to find out about it and see +that something was done about it, yes, sir.</p> + +<p>Forrester finished his drink and stared at the empty +glass. It had all begun on the day of his Final Investiture, +and he had gone through every event in memory, over +and over. Why, he didn't know. But it was something to +do while he hid.</p> + +<p>It hadn't been anywhere near as simple as the Investiture +he had gone through to become a demi-God. +All fourteen of the other Gods had been there this time; +a simple quorum wasn't enough. Pluto, with his dead-black, +light-absorbent skin casting a shade of gloom +about him, had slouched into the Court of the Gods, +looking at everybody and everything with lackluster eyes. +Poseidon/Neptune had come in more briskly, smelling of +fish, his skin pale green and glistening wet, his fingers +and toes webbed and his eyes bulging and wide. Phoebus +Apollo had strolled in, looking authentically like a Greek +God, face and figure unbelievably perfect, and a pleased, +stupid smile spread all over his countenance. Hermes/Mercury, +slim and wily, with a foxy face and quick +movements, had slipped in silently. And all the others +had been there, too. Mars looked grim, but when Forrester +was formally proposed for Godhood, Mars made +no objection.</p> + +<p>The entire Pantheon had then gone single-file through +a Veil of Heaven to a room Forrester just couldn't remember<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +fully. At the time, his eyes simply refused to +make sense out of the place. Now, of course, he understood +why: it didn't really exist in the space-time +framework he was used to. Instead, it was partially a +four-dimensional pseudo-manifold superimposed on normal +space. If not perfectly simple, at least the explanation +made matters rational rather than supernatural. But, at +the time, everything seemed to take place in a chaotic +dream world where infinite distance and the space next +to him seemed one and the same. He knew then why +Diana had told him that the word "machine" could not +describe the Gods' power source.</p> + +<p>He had been seated there in the dream room. But it +wasn't exactly sitting; every spatial configuration took on +strange properties in that pseudo-space, and he seemed +to float in a place that had neither dimension nor direction. +The other Gods had all seemed to be sitting in front +of him, all together and all at once—yet, at the same time, +each had been separate and distinct from the others.</p> + +<p>He wanted to close his eyes, but he had been warned +against doing that. Grimly, he kept them open.</p> + +<p>And then the indescribable began to happen. It was as +though every nerve in his body had been indissolubly +linked to the great source of God-power. It was pure, +hellish torture, and at the same time it was the most +exquisite pleasure he had ever known. He could not +imagine how long it went on—but, eventually, it ended.</p> + +<p>He was Dionysus/Bacchus.</p> + +<p>And then it had been over, and a banquet had been +held in his honor, a celebration for the new God. Everyone +seemed to enjoy the occasion, and Forrester himself had +been feeling pretty good until Mars, smiling a smile that +only touched his lips and left his eyes as cold and hard +as anything Forrester had ever seen, had come up to him +and said softly:</p> + +<p>"All right, Dionysus. You're a God now. I didn't touch +you before because we needed you. And I don't intend to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +kill you now; replacements are too hard to find. I'm only +going to beat you—to within an inch of your damned +immortal life. Just remember that, buster."</p> + +<p>And then, the smile still set on his face, he had turned +and swaggered away.</p> + +<p>Forrester had thought of Vulcan.</p> + +<p>Mars wasn't a killer, in spite of his bully-boy tactics. +He had too good a military mind to discipline a valuable +man to death. But he was more than willing to go as +near to that point as possible, if he thought it justified. +And what he allowed as justification resided in a code +all his own.</p> + +<p>"Right" was what was good for Mars. "Wrong" was +what disturbed him. That was the code, as simple, as +black and white, as you could ask for. Vulcan was one of +the results.</p> + +<p>Vulcan had been Venus' lawful husband, as far as the +laws of the Gods went. That didn't matter to Mars—when +he wanted Venus. He had thrashed Vulcan, and +the beating had left permanent damage.</p> + +<p>The damage was translated into Vulcan's limp. Any +God's ability to heal himself through the machine's power +was dependent on the God's own mentality and outlook. +And Vulcan had never been able to cure his limp; the +psychic punishment had been too great.</p> + +<p>Forrester ordered another drink and tried to think +about something else. The prospect of a fight with Mars +was sometimes a little too much for him to handle.</p> + +<p>The drink arrived and he sipped at it vacantly, thinking +back to Diana and her story of the Gods.</p> + +<p>There was one hole in it—a hole big enough to toss +Mount Olympus through, he realized. Where had the +Gods gone for three thousand years? And how had they +gotten to Earth in the first place?</p> + +<p>Those two unanswered questions were enough to convince +Forrester that, in spite of all he knew, and in spite +of the way his new viewpoint had turned his universe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +upside down in a matter of hours, he still didn't have the +whole story. He had to find it—even more so, now, as he +began to realize that the human race deserved more than +just the "security" and "happiness" that the Gods could +give them. It deserved independence, and the chance to +make or mar its own future. Protection was all very well +for the infancy of a race, but man was growing up now. +Man needed to make his own world.</p> + +<p>The Gods had no place in that world, Forrester saw. +He had to find the answers to all of his questions—and +now he thought he knew a way to do it.</p> + +<p>"Want another, buddy?"</p> + +<p>The bartender's voice roused Forrester from his reverie. +He had absent-mindedly finished brandy-and-soda number eight.</p> + +<p>"Okay," Forrester said. "Sure." He handed the bartender +a ten-dollar bill and got a kind of wry pleasure +out of seeing the picture of Dionysus on its face. "Let's +have another, but more brandy and less soda this time."</p> + +<p>The drink was brought and he sipped at it, looking like +any ordinary citizen taking on a small load, but tuned to +every fluctuation in the energy levels around him, +waiting.</p> + +<p>Only a God, he knew, could hurt another God, and even +then it took plenty of power to do it. Actually to kill a God +required the combined efforts of more than one, under +normal circumstances—though one, properly equipped +and with some luck, could manage it. As far as his +own situation was concerned, Forrester was prepared for +a deadly assault from Mars. Maybe Mars didn't intend to +kill him, but being maimed for centuries, like Vulcan, +was nothing to look forward to, and it was just as well +to be on the safe side. Just in case the God of War had +managed to get one or two other Gods on his side, Forrester +had talked to Diana and Venus, and had their +agreement to step in on his side if things got rough, or if +Mars tried to pull anything underhanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>And any minute now....</p> + +<p>Suddenly Forrester felt a disturbance in the energy +flow around him. Somewhere behind him, invisible to +the mortals who occupied the bar, a Veil of Heaven was +beginning to form.</p> + +<p>With a fraction of a second, Forrester was forming his +own. But this time he took a little longer than he had +before.</p> + +<p>It wasn't the first time he'd had to run. For over a +month now, he had been jumping from place to place, +all over the world. He had gone to Hong Kong first. +When Mars had traced him there and made a grab for +him, Forrester had made a quick jump, via Veil, to +Durban, South Africa. It had taken Mars all of forty-eight +hours to find Forrester hiding in the native quarter, +wearing the <i>persona</i> of a Negro laborer. But again Forrester +had disappeared, this time reappearing in Lima, +Peru.</p> + +<p>And so it had gone for five full weeks, with Forrester +keeping barely one jump ahead of the God of War.</p> + +<p>And, in that month, he had achieved two important +things.</p> + +<p>First, he had begun to make Mars a little overconfident. +By now Mars was fully convinced that Forrester was +nothing but a coward, and he was absolutely certain that +he could beat the newcomer easily, if he could only come +to grips with him.</p> + +<p>Second, Forrester had discovered that Mars' basic +reflexes were a trifle slower than his own.</p> + +<p>If Mars had been able to form his own Veil and step +through it in time to sense the last fading glimmers of +Forrester's Veil, he would have been able to follow +immediately. Instead, he had to go to all the trouble of +finding Forrester over and over again. That meant slower +reflexes—and that, Forrester thought, might just give him +the edge he needed.</p> + +<p>But this time, Forrester was going to let Mars follow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +him—slow reflexes and all. This time, he waited that +extra fraction of a second—and then stepped through the +Veil.</p> + +<p>He was in the middle of a great rain forest. Around him +towered trees whose great trunks reached up to a leafy +sky. The place was dark; little sunlight came through the +roof of leaves and curling vines. A bird screamed somewhere +in the distance, sounding like a lost soul in agony; +the sound was repeated, and then there was silence.</p> + +<p>Forrester was exactly where he had intended to be: in +the middle of the Amazon jungle.</p> + +<p>He had time for one look around. Then Mars stepped +out of a shimmering Veil only yards away from where +Forrester was standing. Immediately, Forrester felt Mars +throw out a suppressor field that would keep him from +forming another Veil. He did the same thing. Now, as +long as both held their respective fields, neither could +leave.</p> + +<p>"Greetings," Forrester said.</p> + +<p>The bird screamed again. Mars ignored it.</p> + +<p>"You're just a little too slow," he said, grinning. "And +now, buster, you're going to get it—and get it good."</p> + +<p>"Who?" Forrester said. "Me?"</p> + +<p>Mars hissed his breath in and fired a blast of blue-white +energy that would have drilled through a foot of +armor plate. But Forrester blocked it; the splatter of free +energy struck at the nearby trees, sending them crashing +to the ground. A small blaze started.</p> + +<p>Forrester followed the blow with one of his own, but +Mars parried quickly. A few more little fires began in the +vicinity. Then Mars bellowed and charged.</p> + +<p>By the time he reached the spot where Forrester had +been, Forrester was fifty feet in the air, standing with his +arms folded and looking down in an interested manner.</p> + +<p>"You ought to watch out," he said. "You might stumble +into a Venus Flycatcher down there. I mean besides the +one you've got already."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mars' mouth dropped open. He gave vent to an inarticulate +roar of rage and leaped into the air. As he rose +toward Forrester, the defender closed his eyes and +changed shape. He became a rock and dropped. He +bounced off Mars' rising forehead with a great noise.</p> + +<p>Mars roared and dived for the stone—and found himself +holding a large, angry tiger.</p> + +<p>But an old trick like that didn't fool Mars. Tiger-Forrester, +suddenly finding himself fighting with another +tiger as ferocious as himself, began clawing and biting +his way free in a frenzy of panic. He managed to make it +just long enough to become a stone again, dropping +toward the Earth.</p> + +<p>For a moment, the other tiger seemed uncertain. Then, +catching sight of the falling stone, he became an eagle, +and went after it with a scream, claws outstretched and +a glitter of hatred in the slitted eyes.</p> + +<p>Forrester reached the ground first. The eagle braked +madly, trying to escape a giant Kodiak bear. Forrester +stood on his hind legs and battered the air with great, +murderous paws. Mars scooted upward, already changing +into something capable of coping with the bear. A huge, +bat-winged dragon, breathing barrels of smoke, flapped +in the air, looking all around for its opponent. It did not +notice Forrester scurrying away in the shape of an ant +through the leaves and thick humus of the jungle floor.</p> + +<p>By now, the air was becoming smoky and the flames +were licking up the sides of trees all through the vicinity, +and racing along the giant vines that curled around them. +The dragon belched more smoke, adding to the general +confusion, and roared in a voice like thunder:</p> + +<p>"Coward! Dionysus! Come out and fight!"</p> + +<p>There was an instant of crackling silence.</p> + +<p>Then Forrester stepped out from behind a blazing tree. +He, too, was a dragon.</p> + +<p>Mars snarled, breathed smoke and made a power dive. +Forrester dodged and the fangs of the monster missed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +him by inches. Mars sank claw-deep into the ground, and +Forrester slammed the War God on the side of his head +with one mighty forepaw. Mars blew out a cloud of +evil-smelling smoke and managed to jerk himself free. +He leaped to all four feet, glaring at Forrester with great, +bulging, hate-filled eyes.</p> + +<p>"Man to man, you bastard!" he said in a flame-filled +roar.</p> + +<p>Forrester leaped back to avoid being scorched. He +poured out some smoke of his own. Mars coughed.</p> + +<p>"Damn it, no more shape-changing!" the War God +thundered.</p> + +<p>"Fair enough!" Forrester shouted. He changed back to +his Dionysian form, circling warily until Mars had followed +suit. Then the two began to close in slowly.</p> + +<p>Around them the forest burned, vegetation even on the +swampy ground catching fire as the entire vicinity +crackled and hissed with heat. Neither of them seemed +to take any notice of the fact.</p> + +<p>Mars was a trained boxer and wrestler, Forrester knew. +But it was probably a good many centuries since he'd +had any real workouts, and Forrester was counting heavily +on slowed-down reflexes. Those would give him a slight +edge.</p> + +<p>At any rate, he hoped so.</p> + +<p>The circling ceased as Mars leaped forward suddenly +and lashed out with a right to the jaw that could end +the fight. But Forrester moved his head aside just in +time and the fist glanced off his cheek. He staggered +back just as Mars followed with a left jab to the belly.</p> + +<p>Forrester clamped down on the War God's wrist and +twisted violently, pulling Mars on past him. The War +God, caught off balance, lunged forward, tripping over +his own feet, and almost fell as he went by. Forrester, +grinning savagely, brought his right hand down on the +back of Mars' neck with a blow whose force would have +killed an elephant outright.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mars, however, was no mere elephant. He grunted and +went down on his hands and knees, shaking his head +groggily. But he wasn't out. Not quite.</p> + +<p>Forrester doubled up his fist as Mars tried to rise, and +came down again with all the force he could muster, +squarely on his opponent's neck.</p> + +<p>There was a satisfyingly loud crack, audible, even in +the roar of the burning forest. Mars collapsed to the +ground, smothering small fires beneath his bulk. Forrester +leaped on top of him and grabbed his head, beard with +one hand and hair with the other. He twisted and the +War God screamed in agony. Forrester relaxed the +pressure.</p> + +<p>"All right, now," he said through clenched teeth. +"Your neck's broken, and all I've got to do is twist enough +to sever your spinal column. You'll be crippled for as +long as Vulcan has—maybe longer."</p> + +<p>Mars shrieked again. "I yield! I yield!"</p> + +<p>Forrester held on. "Not just yet you don't," he said +grimly. "I want some information, and I'm going to get +it out of you if I have to wring them out vertebra by +vertebra."</p> + +<p>Mars tried to buck. Forrester twisted again and the +War God subsided, breathing hard. At last he muttered: +"What do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Why did you and the other Gods leave Earth for +three thousand years? And where did you come from in +the first place? I want the <i>real</i> reason, chum." He applied +a little pressure, just as a reminder.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you!" Mars screamed. "I'll tell you!"</p> + +<p>And as the roaring flames crackled in the Amazon +forest, the agonized Mars began to talk.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE"></a>CHAPTER TWELVE</h2> + + +<p class="cap">Zeus, Venus, Diana and Forrester sat in the Court of +the Gods, listening to a large, blue-skinned individual +with bright red eyes and two long white fangs coming +from a lipless mouth. The eyes were like a cat's, with +slitted pupils, and the general expression on the individual's +face was one of feral hatred and bestial madness. +However, as he had explained, he was not responsible +for the arrangement of his features. He was, he kept +saying, only interested in the general welfare. What +was more, it was his business to be interested. He was, as +a matter of fact, a cop: Bor Mellistos, of the Interstellar +Police.</p> + +<p>"My rank," he had told them mildly, "is about the +equivalent of your Detective Inspector."</p> + +<p>"Technically," he was saying now, "you are all four +guilty of being accessories—as I understand your local law +phrases it. However—"</p> + +<p>He smiled. It made him look unbelievably horrible. +Forrester tried not to pay any attention to it.</p> + +<p>"However," he went on, "in view of the fact that none +of you could possibly have known that you were, in fact, +accessories—that is, that you were dealing with a criminal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +group, if you understand me—plus the fact that Mr. +Forrester, as soon as he did discover the facts, called us +at once through the power machine—I feel that we can +overlook your part in the matter."</p> + +<p>Venus frowned. "Wait a minute. I'm not sure I understand +this at all. What crime are the Gods supposed to +have committed?"</p> + +<p>"Not crime, miss," Bor Mellistos said. His eyes twinkled. +Forrester gulped and turned away. "Crimes. Misuse of a +neural power machine, for one—and the domination and +enslavement of a less advanced intelligent culture for +another. Both those are very serious crimes."</p> + +<p>"Less advanced culture?" Forrester said. "You mean +us?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so, sir," Bor Mellistos said. "You see, all the +members of my culture are attuned to the power nodes +of one neural machine or another, but this power is not +meant to be misused. We have been searching for this +group for a long time now."</p> + +<p>"And you first got wind of them on Earth about three +thousand years ago?"</p> + +<p>"A little more than that, actually," Bor Mellistos said, +"if you don't mind the correction."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Forrester said, looking at the fangs of the +Detective Inspector.</p> + +<p>"We were alerted after the radiations had been coming +in for some time. The search for this group wasn't nearly +as urgent then."</p> + +<p>"And that's why they had to go into hiding?" Diana +asked.</p> + +<p>"Correct, miss," Bor Mellistos said. "The only one we +managed to catch was the woman calling herself Aphrodite, +or Venus." He looked at the substitute Venus. "That's +the one you replaced, miss."</p> + +<p>"How did you catch her?" Forrester pursued.</p> + +<p>"Well," Bor Mellistos said, turning a faint shade of +orange with embarrassment, "she was—ah—engaged in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +secret liaison with a mortal at the time. Knowing that two +of the other gentlemen would be furious with her if they +discovered this fact—"</p> + +<p>"Mars and Vulcan," Forrester supplied.</p> + +<p>"Quite correct, sir," Bor Mellistos said. "Knowing, as I +say, that they would be furious, she had taken special +pains to hide herself. When the alarm reached the others +that we were coming, they could not warn her. As a +result, when she returned to Mount Olympus, we were +waiting for her."</p> + +<p>"Serves her right!" Zeus said with indignation.</p> + +<p>Bor Mellistos said: "Quite," very politely.</p> + +<p>"And then," Forrester said, "you patrolled this place for +a while."</p> + +<p>Bor Mellistos nodded. "We left about three hundred +years ago, finally deciding that they had gone elsewhere. +By the way, do you know where they were hiding all this +time?"</p> + +<p>"My guess," Diana said, "is that they were here on +Earth, of course."</p> + +<p>"Naturally, miss," Bor Mellistos said. "But where?"</p> + +<p>Zeus shrugged. "All sorts of places. I ran a tailor shop +myself, pressing and cleaning. I understand that Poseidon +and Pluto entered freak shows—they were fine attractions, +too. Pan lived mostly in the forests, doing well enough +for himself running wild. Diana and Athena ran a small +hairdressing studio in Queens. And Venus—"</p> + +<p>"Please," Venus interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly honorable profession," Zeus objected. "One +of the oldest. Perhaps the very oldest. And I don't see +why—"</p> + +<p>"Please!" Venus insisted.</p> + +<p>Zeus shut up with a little sigh.</p> + +<p>"At any rate," Bor Mellistos said, "that's the story up +to date. And now there's only the question of the Overseer +positions. Would you like to fill them?"</p> + +<p>"Who?" Venus asked. "<i>Us?</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," Bor Mellistos said, "you have the experience. +And we do need someone to take over. You see, three +thousand years ago your technical attainments were not +large. There was little need for an Overseer. Now, however, +you are nearly at the stage where you will be invited +to join the Galactic Federation. And we must make sure +you do not do any irreparable harm to yourselves during +the next few years."</p> + +<p>"Well," Forrester said, "how could we—"</p> + +<p>"If you'll permit me, sir," Bor Mellistos said, "I can +explain. You would work much as the so-called Gods did—but +with no publicity, and a greater sense of responsibility, +if you understand me. Earth would never know +you were there."</p> + +<p>"I'd have to—stay away from mortals?" Forrester asked.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," Bor Mellistos said.</p> + +<p>Well, Forrester thought, it had its compensations. In +the three days that the Detective Inspector had been on +Earth, Forrester had had time to think and to find out +some things. Gerda, for instance, was getting married to +Alvin Sherdlap. Forrester wondered what kind of love +would let a woman choose a name like Gerda Sherdlap, +and decided it was better not to think about it.</p> + +<p>What did he have to go back to? History classes? Students? +Even students like Maya Wilson?</p> + +<p>Well, he was sure he could do better than that. He +looked at Diana and became even surer.</p> + +<p>"The remaining eleven Overseers," Bor Mellistos was +saying, "will be along shortly. You will then be able to +draw fully on the machine. You need merely follow +world events and make sure that any—ah—regrettably +<i>final</i> decisions are not made. Your actions will, of course, +be very much undercover."</p> + +<p>Forrester nodded. "This mass arrest of the Gods is +going to cause an upheaval all by itself."</p> + +<p>"Quite true, sir. But that will be worked out. I'm afraid +I don't really know the details, but doubtless the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +eleven who are coming will inform you more thoroughly +on that score."</p> + +<p>Forrester sighed. "About the Gods—what kind of +punishment will they receive?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," Bor Mellistos said, "it varies. Vulcan, for +instance—the person who called himself Vulcan, or +Hephaestus—will probably get off with a lighter sentence +than the others. He was a mechanic, brought along +under some duress to service the machine. But the +sentences will be severe, you may be sure. Very severe."</p> + +<p>Forrester didn't feel like asking any more questions +about that. There was a pause. He looked at Diana again, +and she looked back at him.</p> + +<p>"Do you accept?" Bor Mellistos said.</p> + +<p>Forrester and the others nodded.</p> + +<p>Bor Mellistos said: "Very well. In that case, I will +inform the other eleven Overseers already picked that +they will be met by you here, on Mount Olympus, and +that—"</p> + +<p>But Forrester wasn't listening.</p> + +<p>He had begun whistling, very softly.</p> + +<p>The song he was whistling was Tenting Tonight.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pagan Passions, by +Gordon Randall Garrett and Laurence Mark Janifer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAGAN PASSIONS *** + +***** This file should be named 22767-h.htm or 22767-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/6/22767/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Geoffrey Kidd, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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