disapproval and masculine authority, with overtones of some deeper, higher mandate, obscurely articulated but nonetheless there.
“And the visions,” Dr. Abernathy said. “It is time you gave them up as well. You confessed the use of vision-inducing drugs. I am instructing you to turn all such drugs over to me.”
“Wh-wh-wh
at?
”
The priest nodded. “Right now.” He held out his hand.
“I never should have confessed.” His voice trembled and he could not, for the life of him, keep it steady. “Listen,” he said, “how about a deal? I’ll stop sleeping with Lurine, but you let me keep—”
Dr. Abernathy stated, “I am more concerned with the drugs. There is a satanic element involved, a vitiated but still-real black mass.”
“You’re”—Pete gestured—“out of your mind!”
The hand remained. Waiting.
“‘Black mass.’” Disgusted, he said, “Some deal. I can’t win; I either—” Too much, he thought gloomily. What a mistake it had been to slip over into the formal relationship with Abernathy; the priest had ceased to be a man, had assumed transcendent power. “Penance,” he said aloud. “You’ve got me. Okay; I have to give up my whole goddamn supply of medication. What a victory for you, tonight. What a reason for joining the Christian Church; you have to give away everything you like, even the search for God! You sure don’t want converts very bad—as a matter of fact, it strikes me as weird, the way you discouragedMcMasters; my god, you as much as told him right flat to his face that he ought to go back to Handy and do his job and
not
be a convert. Is that what you want? For him to stay there with the SOWers and go on his Pilg, which he’s trying so darn hard to get out of? What a way to run a church; no wonder you’re losing out, like I said.”
Dr. Abernathy continued to extend his open hand, waiting.
Just that one thing, Pete Sands reflected. Not picking up when the inc asked to join us so as not to go on the Pilg; why didn’t you pick up on that? It wasn’t that difficult a decision; normally, Dr. Abernathy would have conscripted Tibor into the Christian Church instantly: Pete Sands had witnessed such abrupt total conversions many times.
“I’ll tell you what,” Pete said aloud. “I’ll turn over my supply of medication to you if you’ll tell me why you blocked McMasters when he tried to duck in here. Okay? A deal?”
“He should have courage. He should stand up to the duties imposed on him. Even by a false and profane mimic-church.”
“Aw, you must be kidding.” It still rang wrong; in fact even more so, now. Asked outright for his reason, Dr. Abernathy revealed that he had no reason. Or rather, Pete realized musingly, he isn’t telling.
“The drugs,” Dr. Abernathy said. “I told you why I abstained from the temptation of enticing one of the finest murch painters in the Rocky Mountain area into the Church of Christ; now give me—”
“Anything,” Pete Sands said quietly.
“Pardon?” Blinking, Dr. Abernathy cupped his ear. “Oh, I see. Anything else instead of the—medication.”
“Lurine and anything else,” Pete said in a voice that almost refused to be heard; he was in fact unsure whether the priest had caught all the words or only the tone. But the tone by itself; that would convey everything. In all his life, even during the war, he had never sounded quite like that. At least so he hoped.
“Hmm,” Dr. Abernathy said. “‘Lurine and anything else,’ Rather a grandiose offer. You must have become habituated to one or more of your drugs; correct?” He eyed Pete keenly.
“Not the drugs,” Pete said, “but that which the drugs show me.”
“Let me think.” Dr. Abernathy pondered. “Well, nothing enters my mind tonight … possibly it would be worth shelving for now; I can perhaps stipulate some alternative tomorrow or the day after.”
And not only this, Pete thought, but you also won all the silver I had on me when we
“And the visions,” Dr. Abernathy said. “It is time you gave them up as well. You confessed the use of vision-inducing drugs. I am instructing you to turn all such drugs over to me.”
“Wh-wh-wh
at?
”
The priest nodded. “Right now.” He held out his hand.
“I never should have confessed.” His voice trembled and he could not, for the life of him, keep it steady. “Listen,” he said, “how about a deal? I’ll stop sleeping with Lurine, but you let me keep—”
Dr. Abernathy stated, “I am more concerned with the drugs. There is a satanic element involved, a vitiated but still-real black mass.”
“You’re”—Pete gestured—“out of your mind!”
The hand remained. Waiting.
“‘Black mass.’” Disgusted, he said, “Some deal. I can’t win; I either—” Too much, he thought gloomily. What a mistake it had been to slip over into the formal relationship with Abernathy; the priest had ceased to be a man, had assumed transcendent power. “Penance,” he said aloud. “You’ve got me. Okay; I have to give up my whole goddamn supply of medication. What a victory for you, tonight. What a reason for joining the Christian Church; you have to give away everything you like, even the search for God! You sure don’t want converts very bad—as a matter of fact, it strikes me as weird, the way you discouragedMcMasters; my god, you as much as told him right flat to his face that he ought to go back to Handy and do his job and
not
be a convert. Is that what you want? For him to stay there with the SOWers and go on his Pilg, which he’s trying so darn hard to get out of? What a way to run a church; no wonder you’re losing out, like I said.”
Dr. Abernathy continued to extend his open hand, waiting.
Just that one thing, Pete Sands reflected. Not picking up when the inc asked to join us so as not to go on the Pilg; why didn’t you pick up on that? It wasn’t that difficult a decision; normally, Dr. Abernathy would have conscripted Tibor into the Christian Church instantly: Pete Sands had witnessed such abrupt total conversions many times.
“I’ll tell you what,” Pete said aloud. “I’ll turn over my supply of medication to you if you’ll tell me why you blocked McMasters when he tried to duck in here. Okay? A deal?”
“He should have courage. He should stand up to the duties imposed on him. Even by a false and profane mimic-church.”
“Aw, you must be kidding.” It still rang wrong; in fact even more so, now. Asked outright for his reason, Dr. Abernathy revealed that he had no reason. Or rather, Pete realized musingly, he isn’t telling.
“The drugs,” Dr. Abernathy said. “I told you why I abstained from the temptation of enticing one of the finest murch painters in the Rocky Mountain area into the Church of Christ; now give me—”
“Anything,” Pete Sands said quietly.
“Pardon?” Blinking, Dr. Abernathy cupped his ear. “Oh, I see. Anything else instead of the—medication.”
“Lurine and anything else,” Pete said in a voice that almost refused to be heard; he was in fact unsure whether the priest had caught all the words or only the tone. But the tone by itself; that would convey everything. In all his life, even during the war, he had never sounded quite like that. At least so he hoped.
“Hmm,” Dr. Abernathy said. “‘Lurine and anything else,’ Rather a grandiose offer. You must have become habituated to one or more of your drugs; correct?” He eyed Pete keenly.
“Not the drugs,” Pete said, “but that which the drugs show me.”
“Let me think.” Dr. Abernathy pondered. “Well, nothing enters my mind tonight … possibly it would be worth shelving for now; I can perhaps stipulate some alternative tomorrow or the day after.”
And not only this, Pete thought, but you also won all the silver I had on me when we
Similar Books
