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Authors: Mike Resnick

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BOOK: Six Blind Men & an Alien
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    The most obvious question to ask the believers was: if He hasn’t truly manifested Himself, if your brethren still suffer and die, then why do you still believe in Him? But Quachama had progressed beyond that question. He found that he did indeed believe in God, or some manifestation of Him, and he wanted to confront God and ask why He allowed anyone to suffer, or to fail at anything, or to hunger, or to die.
    And he made it his life’s work to seek God out, confront Him face-to-face, and demand an answer.
    The first world he visited was Bellarnus, in the heart of the Nemacton Cluster. It was a water world, covered by an ocean, dotted with islands. The dominant race was a species of intelligent, mammalian seagoing creatures, not totally unlike dolphins, and their God was said to occupy an undersea castle two miles below the north magnetic pole. Quachama positioned his boat over the castle, donned his underwater gear, jumped into the ocean, and began swimming toward the castle. It took him four hours of careful descent, and when he reached the place where the castle was supposed to be, he found nothing but sand and rocks. It took him three times as long to reach the surface, to avoid the possibility of depth sickness, and when he was back in his boat he related his experience to a member of the dolphin-like race who was swimming alongside.
    "Ah!" was the answer. "God did not wish you to find Him. He can move his castle around the world at will."
    "But
why
didn’t He want me to find Him?" asked Quachama.
    "Only God can answer that," said the dolphin. "Remain here. I am sure once God decides you mean Him no harm He will return."
    "If He is God, then by definition I cannot harm Him," replied Quachama.
    "Then perhaps He had some other reason for moving His castle."
    "Have you personally seen this castle?" asked Quachama.
    "I am not religious. I have never had a reason to look for it."
    "Do you know
anyone
who has seen it?"
    "Probably. It is not something we talk about in polite company. After all, He is God."
    His mind made up, Quachama began climbing out of his diving gear. "Thank you for your trouble," he said.
    "You are not going to wait for God?" asked the dolphin.
    "No."
    "That’s all right. He will know how to find you."
    "We shall see," said Quachama.
    That was the first of twenty-seven worlds he visited, searching for God. He looked in the jungles of Selamun, the endless desert of Tilanbo, the underground caverns of Jebb, and always he concluded that God did not dwell on that particular world.
    His belief in God remained unshaken, but he became a lot more cynical about the claims made by God’s self-appointed spokesmen and worshippers. Still, he had no alternative but to continue his quest. He prayed every morning and every night, but God never acknowledged receiving the prayers, never once manifested Himself to Quachama, which simply made it more important than ever that the two of them should meet face-to-face, for that was the only way Quachama could be sure that God actually heard him.
    He almost died in the asteroid belt between the sixth and seventh planets of the Amatiro system. He thought he got a glimpse of God on Tzintrep, but he got lost in the maze of corridors and tunnels beneath the Great Temple, and by the time he got his bearings and made his way back to the Throne Room of the Almighty, the place was deserted, and it stayed deserted for the twelve days that he remained there.
    He realized that he was getting older, that he did not have an infinite amount of time in which to hunt for God on an infinite number of worlds. He determined that he would be more selective in his choice of venues, he would study each world more thoroughly, and he would visit the world only when he felt there was a reasonable chance that he had come at last to God’s world.
    For those reasons, Graetep, Promandios, Chovnost, and Litantia seemed very promising, but alas, none of the four delivered on their promises. He was getting desperate now, running low on money, low on energy, low on years remaining to him.
    And then he discovered Earth.
    He had long known about it, a gritty little world that was always going to war with itself, but remained isolated from the rest of the galaxy because its technology was in its infancy, a lovely green and gold world with an acceptable gravity and atmosphere.
    But the fascinating thing was that while every other world had but a single religion, or none at all, Earth had a plethora of religions, and many of them possessed first-hand accounts of meetings with God (and a major one had eyewitness accounts of God’s death by crucifixion). That was the key: how could so many religions believe God dwelt there if there was absolutely no truth to it?
    He spent a week pouring over the holy books of the various religions, and another studying the geography and culture of the planet. He knew he couldn’t pass for a member of the dominant race of man, but he learned that he could mask his features with a hooded robe and possibly some gloves, and he would be accepted as a religious acolyte and move unchallenged through most of the holy places.
    He captured some sound transmissions in the hope of learning the language, and was shocked to find there were hundreds of languages. His computer suggested that if he gained a rudimentary knowledge of English, French, Spanish, Arabic and Chinese, he could function in most venues. Fortunately languages came easily to him, and with the computer’s help he picked them up during his six-week journey to Earth.
    He had the locations listed by priority. He activated his ship’s cloaking device, landed in Sinai, donned the hooded robe he had prepared, traveled on foot by night and hid by day, and finally reached Golgotha.
    There was nothing to mark that this was the spot where so many people had seen their God, or His Earthly manifestation, but Quachama had done his research, and was able to pinpoint the spot on what was now known as Gordon’s Calvary where the cross had been planted. It was the middle of the night when he approached it, the only living being within fifty yards. He made sure no one was around to overhear, and then he spoke:
    "God, are You here?"
    There was no answer, and he realized he had spoken in his native tongue. He repeated the query in English and Arabic. Still no answer. He wondered if he was supposed to address God only in Aramaic, the ancient language that was used during the crucifixion, but decided that if that was the case, everyone would still be speaking it.
    He was disappointed, but not discouraged, and two days later he stood on slopes of Mount Olympus, addressing the Deity as both God and Zeus. Both, if they existed, ignored him.
    He next went to Rome. There seemed to be no consensus as to where Jupiter lived, so he went from ruin to ruin, addressing Him from the ruins of buildings that existed before Jupiter fell out of favor, to be replaced by Jesus in the hearts of his people.
    Two weeks and eleven more false starts brought him to Africa, the last continent on which he might find God. When he saw the size of the Egyptian ruins he had a feeling that he was getting close, that surely the temples at Karnak and Edfu and Kom Ombo had been built for God’s convenience. He went to each, imploring Ra, the Sun God, to speak to him. Ra remained silent, but rather than move on, Quachama also tried to converse with Anubis, Horus and Osiris, although with no better results.
    He could feel his body breaking down, and knew that this would be his last planet, his last chance to put forward those questions he had been waiting all of his adult life to ask. He tried his luck at Abu Simbel, got no response, and headed south.
    There were many variations of Islam, but he’d been to Mecca and other holy sites, and since he’d received no heavenly response there and time was becoming a consideration, he chose not to further pursue the God of Mohammed in Africa. But the computer uncovered some other religions, each with their own God, or their own interpretation of the same God, and he decided that they were different enough from those he had tried that they were worth his few remaining attempts.
    The first was the mountain Kirinyaga, known to most settlers and tourists as Mount Kenya. But he wasn’t interested in the tourists and settlers, most of whom worshiped the God of the Christians and the Jews, a God Who had already repulsed his attempts to communicate. No, Kirinyaga was the holy mountain of the Kikuyu people, and the reason it was holy was because their God, Ngai, lived atop it.
    He found a flat, empty strip of ground at eleven thousand feet, set his ship down, and cloaked it. A bongo and her foal watched him curiously as he climbed down from the hatch. He looked up the mountain and saw the ice-covered peak about six thousand feet above him. It would not be a straight or an easy climb, especially in the dark-he was still making sure that nobody saw him, as this world wouldn’t be ready for interstellar contact for a very long time-but he was resigned to it. Earlier in his travels, he would have made it in a single night, or at most two. But that was thirty-five years ago. This time it would take the better part of six days, climbing by night, hiding by day. At fourteen thousand feet the vegetation thinned out and would soon cease, but he was so tired, so short of breath, that he actually slowed his pace.
    He reached the summit on the eighth day, and looked around for signs that God lived atop the mountain.
    "Ngai, are you here?" he asked. "I must speak with you, and I haven’t got much time left."
    But if Ngai was there, He chose not to answer.
    Quachama remained near the summit for another day, partially to regain some of his strength, partially to give Ngai a chance to reconsider if He was there but in hiding.
    Finally he began his descent. When he reached the ship he collapsed and slept for two days and two nights. When he awoke, he knew that his next attempt would be his last, and that he must choose his venue very carefully.
    The computer thought the God of the Zulus was his best remaining chance, but before he laid in a course for Natal, he saw that there was a similar religion to the Kikuyu, from a tribe that had gone to war with the Kikuyu many times and never lost. They were the Maasai, and their God, named En-Kai, lived atop the greatest mountain on the continent, a mountain known as Kilimanjaro.
    He studied further, but his mind was racing ahead of the computer. Ngai and En-kai. Kirinyaga and Kilimanjaro. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that, at least in terms of religion, the Kikuyu were a pale imitation of the Maasai. He asked the computer to give him a breakdown of the Kikuyu’s religious beliefs. Twenty-one percent believed in the traditional religion; seventy-nine percent had converted to some form of Christianity. He asked for the same breakdown of the Maasai. Ninety-three percent believe in En-kai, seven percent were Christians.
    Now he knew why he had received no response atop Kirinyaga. Just as the Maasai had conquered the Kikuyu, En-kai had conquered the false god Ngai, who had even tried to steal His name. He would go to Kilimanjaro, and after a lifetime of searching, he would finally find God and get his answers.
    He landed his ship on one of the lower slopes and activated the cloaking mechanism, then began climbing. An elephant charged him as he crossed a clearing, and he was barely able to clamber up a tree before it reached the spot he had been. It stood beneath the tree for four hours, but eventually it lost interest and wandered away, and he climbed down and began ascending the mountain again.
    He saw a leopard depositing its kill in the fork of a tree, but it paid him no attention, and he continued walking. His energy was ebbing, he was in constant pain, and he no longer cared whether he was seen or not. He would climb night and day, stopping only when he was so exhausted or in such pain that he could not continue without resting, and as soon as he was able he would begin again.
    He reached the tree line in three days and, taking one last look down the mountain, he strode onto the glacier.
    At one point he could go no farther without resting, and he sat down, hunched over, and looked down the mountain, then out across the savanna.
This must be God’s home
, he thought.
Who else could create such an awesome mountain, or such a magnificent vista? And all of His creatures share Kilimanjaro with men. I have finally reached the place I was searching for all these years.
    He decided it was time to continue his climb, and he prepared to get up-and found that he couldn’t. He tried again, and his legs simply wouldn’t work.
    
I am dying,
he thought.
It seems fitting, somehow, that I should die on God’s mountain, now that I have finally found it.
    And as his vision became blurry, he thought he saw an incredible brightness approaching him.
    
I have been waiting for you,
said the brightness silently, the words echoing inside his head.
Now we shall finally have our talk.
    He still couldn’t rise, but he reached out a hand toward En-kai.
    
2038 A.D.
    
    Jim Donahue had finished taking his pictures, and put his camera back in its case. Not so Bonnie Herrington. She and Ray Glover were going around to each member of the party, interviewing them, asking not only for their reactions to what we’d found but their speculations as to what it might be.
    I could tell that Charles Njobo was torn about what to say. He
wanted
to claim that it was an extraterrestrial visitor, but he was painfully aware that, as he kept reminding us, he represented the Tanzanian government, and he didn’t want to make a statement that could embarrass the government if it turned out to be wrong.
BOOK: Six Blind Men & an Alien
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