The others had all gone, leaving him alone with her. He tried to satisfy her curiosity. But sometimes he wasn't too clear about what he was saying. It wasn't easy to get used to the idea that a pretty, innocent young girl could be half alien kangaroo, half a being close enough to divinity to work miracles.

"I think we'll stay here a few days," she decided abruptly. "I want to know more about Earth people and to study you. Maybe I can even go to Earth andcure people."

It was bad enough trying to go to sleep while he knew she was lying naked in the next room-she'd insisted on having him quarter Kleon and herself. But the picture of her on Earth eventually blotted all that out. The planet administrator here was a neo-Blavatskyite of the worst kind, and he'd love nothing better than taking back a real G.o.ddess, law or no law. Once the senatorial families learned of what she could do, all h.e.l.l would break loose. There'd be at least a dozen kidnaping attempts a month, and probably half as many palace revolutions to control her. She'd be worse than the Tarshian hypnotic lizard of the last century. Besides, there'd be trouble here at the idea of letting her go, and she'd probably get killed before she really saw Earth.

He tried to argue her out of the idea during the next few days, sometimes with the casual help of Kleon. But she was quite sure she could handle anything, and she'd made up her mind.

"Besides, n.o.body hurts a virgin G.o.ddess," she told him, as if that had anything to do with his arguments. It did serve to throw him off, though.

"Why a virgin, anyhow?" he asked. "You have a head G.o.ddess you call the Mother-Principle, but then she incarnates only in virgins. Isn't that contradictory? I suppose she'd blast you asunder if you lost that one virtue."

"She'd leave, because she's the All-Mother, not the One-Mother. Anyhow, I can't really breed-I'm not naturally fertile with our men. Maybe, for children and if I loved a man, in your terms, I wouldn't mind not being a G.o.ddess-but I'm not going to lose what I have for nothing."

Her words jerked his own thoughts back to level, with the sharp realization that he'd begun thinking of her as human again. d.a.m.n it, she might look like a woman, but even their basic cell structure was different. It would be easier to breed with an Earth tree than to have children with her. Not one of his chromosomes would match with hers. And morally, no matter what other reasons were involved, s.e.x was related to having children. Besides, he knew nothing about Sayonese anatomy. Under her skirt, she might not be human at all.

She giggled. "Eli, if you want me to take off my clothes, why don't you ask? I don't mind, really. Then you can see for yourself."

"Go to h.e.l.l!" he told her, and stomped off, determined to pack and leave at once. A man could stand just so much. Innocent she might be, but she knew she had him going and sBj& was enjoying it.

Still, he was tfierVton the fifth day, when he really should have been beginning the trip back to Kalva. Of course, they could have traveled together, but that would have been awkward. Instead of packing, he was walking beside her toward one of his favorite loafing spots at the top of a little hill.

They came to a little dip in the ground that cut off the wind and he threw down a blanket and dropped onto it. He hadn't slept well the night before, and he intended to nap now; She'd brought along the single book Kleon had preserved from his schooling-a tissue edition of some of the books of Earth's old Bible. She and Kleon must have memorized it, but they still pored over it regularly. He sprawled out and she snuggled down beside him. Probably deliberately, she was closer than she had to be. He could feel her b.r.e.a.s.t.s move against him as she breathed.

He sat up with a yelp, staring at her. b.r.e.a.s.t.s? She'd been absolutely flat- chested when he first saw her! But she wasn't now-not by a long ways.

"You wanted them, so I changed," she said contentedly. "It's about time you noticed! And I took away the green in my skin you didn't like and made the line where I should have a pouch disappear, too. See?"

He saw, but at the moment he was more fascinated by what was there than by what wasn't. If she were using padding, she was doing a darned good job of it."They're real," she told him. "I picked the ones in your mind you liked best.

You can feel, if you don't believe me. I don't mind. After all, it won't mean anything to-to me. . . ."

But her breath caught as sharply as his, while his fingers slipped under the halter. He felt her tremble, and her nipples were lifting and eager for his hands.

For a minute, she bent to him, her lips parting and reaching for him. Then abruptly she tore away, staring at him with wide, startled eyes. For the first time, he saw fear on her face.

"No!" she whispered.

But it had to be. He saw it clearly now. Once she gave herself to him, she'd lose her dangerous powers and be just another girl. Maybe the change in her would be only a loss of faith hi herself, but that didn't matter. It was his solution. Earth would never hear of her, and . . . and it had been ten years since he'd held a girl in his arms!

He started toward her. Her face paled, then firmed again, and something seemed to explode in his head. He staggered, missed his footing, and fell.

"No," she repeated. "Not now. Not yet. I have to think."

This time he waited, knowing he could do nothing to force a creature with the powers of a G.o.ddess. The pressures hi huii rose and fought for expression, but he could only lie and wait. And in the end, it was she who came to him, slowly pulling the halter off as she moved toward him. He lay immobile until she was almost touching him before he groped for her. She pulled closer, straining against him with heaving b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Show me hi your mind again. Show me everything," she whispered. "I have to be sure."

His hands had found the slit hi her skirt by then and the buckle, but he tried to follow her wishes with his unclear, churning thoughts. And suddenly she was completely against him, with nothing between, panting in his ear. "I'm sure.

Eli, I'm sure!"

Ten years was a long time.

The last Eli saw of Meia, she was sleeping in complete exhaustion, but with a touch of a smile on her lips. She muttered something in a weak voice, and he kissed her lightly, trying to keep his mind from thinking too loud.

It was dark before he reached his house. He located his riding beast, saddled it, and started toward the building to collect his ma.n.u.script. Then he saw Kleon reading it, and gave up. He was in no condition to face the questions of the old man. He led the animal out onto the trail, mounted quickly, and headed for Kalva, hoping only that he had enough money on him for the trip.

It was a long rMe, and there was time for more than enough thought. Sometimes he gloated to himself over the end of herf power, as ft his victory proved that she had never been more than he was. Sometimes shame came over him, either at the breaking of the taboo against aliens or at what he had done to her. And always there were other feelings that he cursed and ranted against, but which lasted longer than the others.

At the end of a year, when his transfer was okayed, he spent all his money to send her a box of luxuries, using the village as her address. When his transfer ship was delayed, he began to fear she might trace him back, but he saw no more of her.

Instead, it was the aged Kleon who came, and by then it didn't matter. Eli was inside the pa.s.senger fence, getting final clearance, and no natives were permitted. Kleon tried to pa.s.s and was turned back. Then, as he saw Eli, one thick arm swept forward, tossing something over the fence.

It was the thin, worn little mission book Meia had been reading. He stood holding it, trying to guess what it meant, as Kleon left. Shaking proved there was no note between the pages, and nothing was written inside the covers. It was a mystery to him. Yet he was homesick as the rocket roared upward, liftinghim from Sayon.

Judson woke early, bothered by the light streaming from the windows on two sides of his apartment. He groaned, still aching, and fumbled about until he found his gla.s.ses. A slave must have come in during the night to undress him, and one entered now, bringing his freshened clothes and a welcome cup of coffee.

One wall of windows faced north toward the hill, he saw. The other opened on a rear garden. He threw one of the windows open, letting in fresh air and a babble of childish voices. There were three little boys, from six to eleven, playing outside. From their looks, they were obviously Dupont's. The man had been a fool to have them, but Judson couldn't really blame him as he watched them, envy thick in him.

He shut the window again, just as Dupont himself came in. The man looked sick and scared. "The Fas Kaia arrested Athon!" he screamed, wasting no time on civilities. "She's holding trial on him for profaning the temple. After I ordered her to leave him alone. Come on, we've got to stop it!"

The rule book was torn up, and Dupont's carefully built shelter was gone. It was a shock to Judson too, but no cause for panic. He should have expected some such high-handed action from the priestess.

"I countermanded your order," he said. He realized he was committing himself- probably accepting Kaia's bribe-but there was no use trying to undo what she had done. The less damage the better. "If you're worried, Dupont, maybe you'd better get your sister and your boys to the ship."

The sickness in the man abruptly washed out all the fear. Incest was still enough to ruin him completely. But he nodded at last. He shook himself, pulling at some strength inside him to put on a normal appearance, then headed for the garden.

Judson hurried out to the street. There was no chariot waiting, of course; Fas Kaia obviously meant to have a fait accompli when he heard of it. He set out on foot, noticing that there were mobs cl.u.s.tered about the temple, and others streaming toward it. But they were still leaderless and unsure of what had happened. They made way for his uniform without thinking.

Inside the temple, a reluctant priestess led him to a great gold and silver door and swung it open for him. He could see Kaia at the far end of the huge room, addressing a prisoner in the hands of two Ludh. How the temple rated Ludh guards would have to be explained later.

She looked up and motioned him to her, standing up as he drew near. "I couldn't get a chariot and message to you through the hostile crowd," she lied easily in a low voice. "So I went ahead, hoping you'd hear. Here, I've already judged him an impostor of Earth stock, and handed him over to the temple as a spy in temple uniform-his robe really is an old temple one. I found rules about jurisdiction over spies in an old covenant of Earth and used thenj?" '- "So you didn'f:ne$d me, after all?" he asked bitterly. He could admire her solution; with the detail of the temple uniform, it might even be legal. But her tactics rankled.

She shook her head, smiling faintly. "I'm glad you're here, Eli. I'd rather not forge the papers. Here, take the seat of judgment and finish. You can certify to his being human, too."

He found himself seated in the great chair, with the papers in front of him.

They were in good order and in English. Kaia was thorough. But if he had even a shred of doubt about the man, after her arrogant a.s.sumption she could control him, he'd let her go whistle . . .

Abruptly, he saw the prisoner, and the anticlimax took all the stubbornness out of him. The man was unimpressive and plain, with mild blue eyes and carroty-red hair that could only come from Earth. There was even a hint of freckles across the nose.Reluctantly, Judson signed. There was no doubt left, and nothing else to do.

One man couldn't count against whole worlds, any more than Meia had counted against Earth. But his hand shook as he put the pen back.

"Hear the judgment," Kaia called immediately. "For sacrilege within the temple, let the self-termed O6 Athon die on the pointed seat this day. Take him awayi"

Judson rose to protest. The man was practically a political prisoner. He'd only come for ritualistic laving, not to harm the temple literally. But it was too late for protests. Anyhow, the prisoner was speaking.

It was a rich, ringing voice that seemed to fill the whole room. "The world has judged and the world is judged," Athon p.r.o.nounced slowly. His eyes lingered on them and his hand came up in a strange gesture. Then he shrugged and let the guards move him away.

Judson felt his eyes smarting, and his vision seemed to blur. He reached for his gla.s.ses automatically and began cleaning them. Then shock hit him as he glanced at the papers before him. Without the gla.s.ses, the smallest text was clearly visible. There had been a final miracle, even inside the temple.

Kaia was in front of him as he stumbled to his feet, and there was a package in her hands. "Sometimes the G.o.ddess is quick to reward," she chuckled.

"Naturally, to refuse Her gift is to profane Her name. The temple thanks you, too, Eli."

He took the package and thrust it into his pocket, knowing it bound him to her, and not caring at the moment. "You are kind, Fas Kaia," he said formally.

Then he headed for the exit and toward the street.

But now the crowd was thicker, pressing inward. As he came to the steps, he found himself swallowed by it, almost carried by it. It had always been a faceless, abstract crowd to him before-one with no character or feeling. He hadn't really realized that it could claw and tear and smother with its solidity. And he was too old to tear through it.

Then another shock registered. A few feet away, the face of Kleon appeared, with the old eyes staring straight toward him, before the movement of the mob drove them apart. The surprise seemed to clear his mind, though. He lifted his voice to a shout. "They are taking him to the hill for the Seat. Kaia has ordered the Seat for him!"

Other voices picked up the cry and spread it. Now suddenly the crowd began to turn, trying to get away from the temple and toward the hill. Judson was forced along with them, but they were moving north, at least, toward the palace as well as the hill. He put all his failing energies to the task of working sideways, looking for a chance to drop out before they pa.s.sed the palace.

Somehow, he made it. He had no memory of it, nor of pa.s.sing out on his bed.

But he came to, filthy and torn, some time later. There was no answer when he yelled for a slave. He struggled through a hasty bath and into one of the standard Service uniforms in the closet. Then the silence of the house and the low rumble of sound from the north finally registered, and he looked out.

Kalva was deserted now. The entire populace was at the hill, where Ludh guards with crossbows held a small circle open at the tjjp. In the middle of that, there was a quiet figure. Foi> a inoment, Judson hoped that the tortured man was dead^ until the head moved weakly.

Athon had not saved himself. The judgment was fulfilled.

And in the sky, dark clouds were piling up for one of the periodic storms.

Judson gazed at it, beginning to worry again. This was a primitive world, where omens were all-important. A storm now would indicate divine displeasure- it would d.a.m.n him and Kaia more than all logic or law-more than he could d.a.m.n himself, perhaps.

It was no time to linger.He packed hastily, leaving the book and the package for the last. Then he ripped away the wrapping, to study the necklace. The thirty jewels on it were silvery white in the shadows where he held them. They meant a measure of youth again-a wife to give him sons-Earth or any planet he chose. They meant everything he wanted, except peace within himself.

But he had done only what had to be. A man could never stand idly by and see his world ruined, even though the fools in it were bent on riding downhill to perdition. At least in his tune, Earth must retain her dominion.

Lightning flashed, a heavy bolt that crashed down against the roof of the temple. It was natural, since the gold dome was the highest point in the city, but it would be more food for the superst.i.tious. The thunder rolled out, drowning the sound of the rain, and almost covering the footsteps behind him.

He looked around slowly, with no surprise. "It's been a long time, Kleon."

"Too long, Eli," the old voice said. Amazingly, the man looked no older than he had in the village, but there were fatigue and pain hi every movement he made. "Your guards are gone, so I left my beasts and came in."

"Vengeance?" Judson asked.

The head shook slowly. "I still leave anger to others, Eli. Anyhow, vengeance for what? Meia wanted you. And he-he knew it had to be and brought it on himself. I was only a teacher, not a disciple, though I loved the man. No, I followed you to see you, and to take back word of you to Meia. She still lives hi the village, and still thinks of you."

Judson shook his head. He'd schooled himself to think of her as being dead.

But there was nothing 'he could say.

The storm seemed to be thinning out, almost as quickly as it had come. Kleon moved to the windows, staring toward the hill. There were tears in his eyes, but his sigh was one of relief. "It is finished," he said.

He bowed his head and seemed to be quoting. " "The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell hi the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. ... For every battle of the warrior is with confused noise and garments rolled hi blood; but this shall be with burning and fuel of fire.' I can't blame you for trying to stop a battle that will not be confined to this world, Eli, though the tune for any man to take action has pa.s.sed-as even our priestess seems to know, to her sorrow."

"I stopped it once," Judson protested harshly.

Kleon stared at him, surprise on his old face. He glanced at the book on the table, and the surprise deepened. "I wondered, when you didn't return. And yet. How could you fail to get her message and yet have the book all these years, Eli?"

He moved to the thin volume, pulling it open with a cord that day between the pages. Then he hesitated, and picked up the binoculars instead. "Look; Eli.

Look carefully, and beneath the surface!"

Judson moved uncertainly to the window, unwilling but unable to resist. He focused on the figure that was still upright. Now, when it should have been dulled in death, the face had picked up a strange strength and n.o.bility, and it seemed to stare at the sky, triumphant and waiting. But it was drawn thin by the hours of suffering, and there was something about the features--the nose, the shape of the chin ...

"No!" It ripped put of Judson, while the binoculars crashed to the floofcn"Ifs impossible! Physically impossible!" iV~;( Kleon shook his head. "Not to one who had the Power, Eli. She burned herself out in one effort-but she succeeded. Here's the message I brought you from her, thirty years ago."

There was a dark circle around one verse on the page, followed by a thick, heavy exclamation point. Below that Meia's signature was scrawled in English script. Judson bent over the book, focusing on the small, ancient print within the circle.Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.

His eyes wavered from the page to the sight of the necklace that was to have given him youth again, and a wife-and a son; rejuvenation to give him more years to realize what he had done and to watch what must become of the power his race had won. Years to think- and sometimes to wonder what a too-human woman in a Village on Sayon might be thinking.

He took one last look up the hill, dry-eyed and frozen. Then he turned to follow Kleon out of the empty palace, knowing he could never leave Sayon again. The men turned the corner outside together, climbed silently onto the waiting beasts, and moved slowly north, away from the distant s.p.a.ceport and the h.e.l.l that was beginning already in the city.

Night was falling and the city began to gleam with the angry red of growing fires, while the crowds fought back and forth across the streets, howling in sorrow and rage. ...

Behind, the book lay open on the table. Wind came in from the windows, turning the pages slowly to the last chapter of Isaiah. Then a sudden gust blew the book closed.

Vengeance Is Mine

Hate spewed across the galaxy in a high crusade. Metal jfcips leaped from world to world and hurtled across s.p.a.ce to farther and farther stars. Planets surrendered their ores to sky-reaching cities, built around fortress-temples and supported by vast networks of technology. Then more ships were sp.a.w.ned, armed with incredible weapons, and sent forth in the eternal search for an enemy.

In the teeming cities and aboard the questing ships, foul-wrenching music was composed, epic fiction and gupernal poetry were written, and great paintings and tculpture were developed, to be forgotten as later and n.o.bler work was done. Science strove for the ultimate limit of understanding, fought against that limit, aid surged past it to limitless possibilities. But behind all the arts and sciences lay the drive of religion, and the religion was one of ancient anger and dedicated hate.

The ships filled the galaxy until every world was conquered. For a time, they hesitated, preparing for the great leap outward. Then the armadas sailed again, mcross thousands and millions of light-years toward the beckoning galaxies beyond.

With each ship went the holy image of their faith and the unsated and insatiable hunger of their hate ...

* ***/T "' -'* 2.

The cattrack labored up the rough road over the crater wall, topped the last rise, and began humming its way down into Eratosthenes. Inside the cab, the driver's seat groaned protestingly as Sam shifted his six hundred terrestrial pounds forward. Coming home was always a good time. He switched lenses in his eyes and began scanning the crater floor for the first sight of the Lunar Base dome.

"You don't have to be quite so all-fired anxious to get back, Sam," Hal Norman complained. But the little selenologist was also' gazing forward eagerly. "You might show a little appreciation for the time I've spent answering your fool questions and trying to pound sense into your tin head. Anybody'd think you didn't like my company."

Sam made the sound of a human chuckle with which he had taught himself to acknowledge all the verbal nonsense men called humor. But truth compelled him to answer seriously. "I like your company very much, Hal."

He had always liked the company of the men he'd met on Earth or during his long years on the Moon. Humans, he had decided long ago, were wonderful. He had enjoyed the extended field trip with Hal Norman; but it would still be good to get back to the dome, where the men had given him the unique privilege of joining them. There he could listen to the often inexplicable but alwaysfascinating conversation of forty men. And there, perhaps, he could join them in their singing. All the robots had perfect pitch, of course, but only Sam had learned to sing acceptably enough to win a place in the dome.

In antic.i.p.ation, he began humming a chanty about the sea he had never seen.

The cattrack hummed downward between the walls of the road that had been crudely bulldozed from the rubble of the crater. Then they broke out into the open, and he could see the dome and the territory around it.