[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
commended their souls to the Great Architect. We had men for such jobs where needed, mostly brethren
whose wives had faced an inquisitor.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
The comm chief touched Huxley's sleeve. 'It's coming, sir.' The scene panned slowly up to the far end
of the Temple, passed over the altar, and settled in close-up on an ivory archway above and behind the
altar-the entrance to the Sanctum Sanctorum. It was closed with heavy cloth-of-gold drapes.
The pick-up camera held steady with the curtained entranceway exactly filling the screen. 'They can
take over any time now, sir.'
Huxley turned his head to the psychoperator. 'Is that ours yet? See if you can get a report from the
Voice of God.'
'Nothing, sir. I'll let you know.'
I could not take my eyes off the screen. After an interminable wait, the curtains stirred and slowly
parted, drawn up and out on each side-and there, standing before us almost life size and so real that I felt
he could step out of the screen, was the Prophet Incarnate!
He turned his head, letting his gaze rove from side to side, then looked right at me, his eyes staring
right into mine. I wanted to hide. I gasped and said involuntarily, 'You mean we can duplicate that?'
The comm chief nodded. 'To the millimeter, or I'll eat the difference. Our best impersonator,
prepared by our best plastic surgeons. That may be our film already.'
'But it's real.'
Huxley glanced at me. 'A little less talk, please, Lyle.' It was the nearest he had ever come to bawling
me out; I shut up and studied the screen. That powerful, totally unscrupulous face, that burning gaze-an
actor? No! I knew that face; I had seen it too many times in too many ceremonies. Something had gone
wrong and this was the Prophet Incarnate himself. I began to sweat that stinking sweat of fear. I very
much believe that had he called me by name out of that screen I would have confessed my treasons and
thrown myself on his mercy.
Huxley said crossly, 'Can't you raise New Jerusalem?'
The psychoperator answered, 'No, sir. I'm sorry, sir.'
The Prophet started his invocation.
His compelling, organlike voice rolled through magnificent periods. Then he asked the blessing of
Eternal God for the people this coming year. He paused, looked at me again, then rolled his eyes up to
Heaven, lifted his hands and commenced his petition to the First Prophet, asking him to confer on his
people the priceless bounty of seeing and hearing him in the flesh, and offering for that purpose the flesh
of the present prophet as an instrument. He waited.
The transformation started-and my hackles stood up. I knew now that we had lost; something had
gone wrong. . - and God alone knew how many men had died through the error.
The features of the Prophet began to change; he stretched an inch or two in height; his rich robes
darkened-and there standing in his place, dressed in a frock coat of a bygone era, was the Reverend
Nehemiah Scudder, First Prophet and founder of the New Crusade. I felt my stomach tighten with fear
and dread and I was a little boy again, watching it for the first time in my parish church.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
He spoke to us first with his usual yearly greeting of love and concern for his people. Gradually he
worked himself up, his face sweating and his hand clutching in the style that had called down the Spirit in
a thousand Mississippi Valley camp meetings: my heart began to beat faster. He was preaching against
sin in all its forms-the harlot whose mouth is like honey, the sins of the flesh, the sins of the spirit, the
money changers.
At the height of his passion he led into a new subject in a fashion that caught me by surprise: 'But I
did not return to you this day to speak to you of the little sins of little people. No! I come to tell you of a
truly hellish thing and to bid you to gird on your armor and fight. Armageddon is upon you! Rise up, mine
hosts, and fight you the Battle of the Lord! For Satan is upon you! He is here! Here among you! Here
tonight in the flesh! With the guile of the serpent he has come among you, taking on the form of the Vicar
of the Lord! Yea! He has disguised himself falsely, taken on the shape of the Prophet Incarnate!
'Smite him! Smite his hirelings! In the Name of God destroy them all!'
Chapter 13
'Bruehler from voice of God,' the psychoperator said quietly. 'The station is now off the air and
demolition will take place in approximately thirty seconds. An attempt will be made to beat a retreat
before the building goes up. Good luck. Message ends.'
Huxley muttered something and left the now-dark big screen. The smaller screens, monitoring scenes
around the country, were confusing but heartening. There was fighting and rioting everywhere. 1 watched
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]