Danger, Religion! Part 5

As we walked, I watched him.

He was marching stolidly ahead, leading us toward the Water of Leith, which probably existed in this matrix as it did in his and mine. Candida, still ob-sessed with religious aspects, was talking volubly to him; Rastell hardly seemed to be listening.

"... all more terrible than anything I could imag-ine! You seem to understand their way of behaving- if we are to be here long, I also must try to understand them, to speak their language, so that I can bring the word of G.o.d to them. You will help, won't you, Mr. Rastell, as a man of G.o.d yourself?"

"They're better left as they are."

"How can you say that? How dare you say it? Isn't this entire matrix a proof of the power of G.o.d's love? They don't have it here-and they've stayed on the level of animals for a million years! We must bring Christ to them."

Rastell turned to her blank-faced and solid; no gleam there. "Think again, Mrs. Meacher! These peo-ple haven't developed as we have. We progressed from their man-ape stage, didn't we? We-our ances-tors-became hunters after the arboreal phase, and from hunters on to higher organizations.

Where do you think G.o.d entered the arrangement, Mrs. Meacher?"

"G.o.d created the world."

He laughed, bitter and dragging, as if the sound hurt him.

"No, the reverse is true! Our world created G.o.d. In the arboreal stage, the monkey stage, where this ma-trix has stuck, there's no need for G.o.d."

"No need! You don't mean...."

"Monkeys have no need for G.o.d, I tell you. In-stead, each group has a boss, a leader, a tyrant, like the one we just met. He makes the law, dispenses rough justice, performs all the societal roles of your G.o.d.

But when apes branch out into hunters and compete for food with clever carnivores like wolves, they have to reject such tyranny, because each mem-ber of the pack has to think for himself. So the leader's authority has to loosen. So he invents a shad-ow behind him, a supreme authority, in which all can believe. A moral law is intruded to keep order where before a fist ruled. A G.o.d is invented."

Idols! Graven images!"

"At first, yes. Then more sophisticated G.o.ds, G.o.ds omnipotent and invisible and angry-And finally- G.o.d! Jehovah!"

We had scrambled down the banks of a little gorge. Before us flowed the narrow river called the Water of Leith. But in my time, it had been spanned by Telford's beautiful bridge. Now there was nothing there but a rotten little ferry-a flat-bottomed boat that could be dragged from one bank to the other by means of a wire secured across the stream. And I saw at once that even that humble arrangement was the work of men, not ape-people.

On the far bank, confirming all I suspected, stood a barbed-wire fence; there wasa locked gate in it, directly opposite the ferry.

The rain began to fall. It wasa moment of purest chill Candida was saying, numbly, to Rastell, "You claim G.o.d is merely man's invention to back his own authori-ty! You, a G.o.d-fearing man!"

"Keep quiet-we're almost there. Get into the boat. And you...."

Before he could finish, I dived sideways andgrabbed at his gun. He struck my arm. I grasped him around the waist; he fought savagely and we sprawled to the ground.

I was on top of him, a knee in his stomach. With both hands, I grasped him around the throat, just as I had once before. His torn ear began to seep blood again. His thumbs came up, gouging at my eyes; his face was livid under my pressure. Candida pulled his gun free and rammed its muzzle against his ear.

"Lie still or I'll kill you!"

I knew she would. So did he! He lay flat, the fight knocked out of him.

Roughly, I rolled him over and started to untie the portal from his back.

"Sheridan," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "I'm taking you to safety, I swear!"

"You swear, what do you swear by? By your honor? By G.o.d? You believe in nothing but power, Rastell- you've explained your philosophy to us. Anything is justified if it reinforces power. What's on lie other side of the wire fence?"

He hesitated. I swung my arm back and caught him with open palm across the side of his face.

"What's the other side of the wire fence?"

"The boss-ape we met-we keep his enemies be-hind there-other tribes."

"Oh, he's your ally!" I said to Candida as I handed her the folded portal, "Rastell told me once there was no finer state than a slave state. This is a slave world-low-grade slaves, it's true, but amenable to disci-pline. Here you can rear slave armies to twitch through to your own matrix and a.s.sist in quelling rebellions-entirely expendable ape-armies. Right Ras-tell?"

I twisted his arm and enjoyed doing it "They have to suffer for righteousness' sake," he said.

I took the gun from Candida and stood up. He started to rise and I told him to stay where he was in the mud. He propped himself on one elbow and lay glaring up at us-twice as dangerous as the boss-ape, I thought.

My sister-in-law was s.h.i.+vering. She clung to my free arm, looking away from Rastell. "Why did he want us here, in this awful place?"

"Someone has to train the ape-army. Am I right, Rastell? And you'd like revenge on me. You are no fugitive from your world. They need cynical minds like yours, don't they, to maintain their beastly status quo?'

He lay in the mud without speaking, the folds of his mouth bitter.

I said, "I was destined to guard the apes while your other exiles here trained them, wasn't I, Rastell?

Something menial like that!"

With some of his old spirit, he said, "Only those we trust get easy jobs like guard duty. For the rest, there are plenty of dirty jobs. Someone has to swab out the ape-barracks."

He got up very slowly, watching me, his face gray, blood running over his cheeks and chin. He rubbed it away as if it were dirt.

"What are you going to do with him, Sherry?"

"I'll have to shoot him, won't I?"

"Yes, you'll have to shoot him."

I was nerving myself to do that. Unfortunately, I had to look into his square sullen face. How little I understood him! I had seen him in bravery and fear. Rastell fought to maintain the iniquitous systems of his own matrix (as we all instinctively did), yet he had muttered of the slaves here that they were better left as they were. He was both a hypocrite and a believer. No, I couldn't sum him up-and perhaps the easy confidence with which we gauge a man's charac-ter is never possible when wide cultural differences lie between us.

I couldn't sum him up. Equally, I couldn't kill him.

"Give me the key to the gate across the stream, Rastell."

He shook his head. "I haven't got a key."

"Hold the gun on him, Candida, while I search him!"

Rastell gestured defeatedly. Saying nothing, he unzipped a tunic pocket, pulled out a large key, and tossed it to me. I caught it, putting it in my own pocket without comment.

The rain ran down his face in spasmodic drops, and he made no attempt to brush them away. I gestured at him with the gun.

"Go back to the village," I said. "The boss-ape will look after you until someone comes to rescue you."

Rastell stared fixedly at us. He opened his mouth as if to speak. Then he made the sign of the cross and turned away, beginning to walk slowly back along the way we had come. Candida and I watched him go.

The rain was increasing now. Clutching the portal and the gun, we worked the ferry across the stream. I helped Candida up the slippery bank and we un-locked the gate. It led into a rank scrubby field; as we mounted the slope, the great enclosure beyond was revealed.

Despite the drizzle, there were ape-people moving in squads-marching, I suppose you would say.

They were watched over by black-uniformed men: victims, no doubt, of Rastell's regime, who would be more than pleased to shelter us. Curtains of rain, sweeping over the tiny figures, part-revealed, part-concealed gaunt concrete buildings behind, stretching like barracks before a line of fir trees.

G.o.d knows, it was far from being a cheering pros-pect. Yet the sight of human misery and struggle-animal and spiritual always intermixed-seemed to rea.s.sure us in this strange place by its very familiari-ty. So Candida and I clutched each other's hands and trudged toward the gray buildings.

No doubt they would offer more than shelter. More than bread.

Over them, streaming water, a gigantic cross.

Faith in ferroconcrete.

end.