The Race for God (36 page)

Chapter 14

People see what they want to see, just as they believe what they want to believe, no matter the mountains of contradictory evidence before them.

—From The Autobiography of

Tananius-Ofo

At McGod’s instruction, Yakkai and Gutan carried Tananius-Ofo to the Empire couch, where the body was laid down gently and covered with the royal blue robe. There Tananius-Ofo would repose until the new Leader of the Universe determined how best to dispose of his predecessor’s remains.

“Now I must ask you to leave for D’Urth,” McGod said. “There is much work for me to do in the Crystal Library.”

All bade goodbye and good will to McGod, and he wished them a safe journey. “I’m going to find the section on Omniscience,” McGod said, “and after that will come Omnipotence. Thus will I watch over you and care for you on your return flight.”

“You’re starting to sound godly,” Corona remarked, with a caring smile. “I can tell you have a sense about yourself now, a new feeling of confidence. I’m proud of you!”

“Thank you, Kelly.”

McGod felt himself detaching from Corona, as if he were cloistering himself. It didn’t have to be that way, for Tananius-Ofo had mentioned his own weakness for women, albeit without telling whether he had acted upon such urgings. The information might be in the great library, in journal or diary form. McGod envisioned himself creating copious files on himself, for he was an important person now and there would be all the time in the universe to make it just right.

McGod wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t gloss over the historical documentation, for that would be a most unseemly thing to do. But he didn’t think he wanted to be perfect, either. Tananius-Ofo hadn’t made himself flawless, and somewhere in the library were the reasons for this.

If I’m to be imperfect, in what way should it be? A tiny lie here and there in the Journal of McGod? What about that idea of a harem? Maybe wanting to be perfect, and the very act of becoming perfect, are imperfections per se. What curious thoughts!

“May I kiss you goodbye?” Corona asked. She was near him, having approached while he was deep in thought. The old proclivity for daydreaming hadn’t changed yet.

“What? Oh, yes, go ahead.” He leaned down, allowed her to peck him on the cheek.

McGod felt like hugging her, felt like telling her how much he still loved her, that he would give all this up instantly in favor of her. But he couldn’t do that, couldn’t leave the shop empty. Never again could he concern himself with personal happiness.

But hadn’t he chosen this position in order to be happy? Why had he volunteered? It had been an impulsive decision, he realized, and in the wake of it McGod didn’t know the answer to his own questions. This struck him as simultaneously frightening and funny. He still had questions to ask of God.

Corona and the others were entering the passageway to leave, waving, and part of McGod wanted to run after them, to be just like them. He turned away, and when he looked back they were gone.

The small party of travelers stood at the entrance to the caverns, with Makanji in the lead, surveying the ledge.

“It’s impassable,” he said. “A section of ledge has fallen away—must be where Jin fell.”

They took turns surveying the ledge, and all agreed that they could not reach the ship. Just as they were about to return to McGod for help, the ship came to life, and in a smooth whir of noise it extricated itself from the cliff face where it had been perched. It flew the short distance to Corona and the others, secured itself to a new spot on the ledge, and positioned its ramp for easy access.

All passed over the ramp into the ship, except Corona, who lingered at the cavern entrance.

“Let’s go!” Appy’s voice blared, across the ship’s P.A. system. “No way to recover lost time!”

“I’m staying!” Corona shouted. She swept one arm across her body, indicating they should take off.

With hardly a moment’s hesitation, Shusher’s ramp was withdrawn and the pomegranate-shaped ship rose toward the white sky, bouncing a high-pitched whine off the cliff walls. There were faces in the windows, and waving hands.

She found him in the Crystal Library, leaning over a huge crystal book spread open upon the table.

“We’ve some redecorating to do on this planet,” Corona said.

The startled look on McGod’s face indicated he hadn’t yet learned the secret of Omniscience.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” he said, in a scolding tone. But she could tell he was glad to see her.

“Neither are you!” she retorted.

They laughed, the first good laugh of McGod’s new reign, and McGod heard the laughter carry through the caverns of his. It was a good thing, laughter, cutting as it did through the colorlessness of the place. But Tananius-Ofo had a reason for making his planet this way. Somewhere in the library . . .

“Are you going to declare Cosmic Chickenhood the official, one and only religion?” she asked.

“I’ll have to think about that.”

Corona glided effortlessly across the floor, as if in a magical dream, and they embraced.

“I have some rough thoughts, a radical concept,” he said. “Tons of details to work out. I’d like to reprogram mankind to nonviolence. I think the answer may be tied in with biocomputers, with Gutan’s experiences and with the work of Professor Pelter on Mnemo. It’s linked as well with D’Urth’s BOL and their work on cyberoos. Somehow I’ve got to break through the BOL cloak and find good people in that organization who will help me. There must be some good ones there, and if there are, I’ll find them.”

“Maybe it’s like a computer programming problem,” Corona said. “I have some experience with that. The human brain needs to be erased or deprogrammed. Maybe we could come up with new pathways for electrochemical impulses to follow.”

“Just think of it, Kelly! A new and wonderful human being, one who acts lovingly to everyone. Humanity becomes a beautiful collective life force that enhances all living things around it. For the first time, harmony between man and environment.”

“We’ll figure it out, darling.”

He looked at her, smiled. “We will, eh?”

“Sure. I want to help.”

“As for the ICCC, I don’t know. A new religion is coming into perspective—one that will end all the foolish clashes of ideology. I think I’ll call it . . . Novarianism. It’s a cosmic church that builds no edifices to itself, a church without a priesthood, without a power structure. It’s full of the new humans I want to create, the ones who are pure of heart. They don’t need buildings to pray in, don’t believe in pouring money into structures and then sitting at services once a week. This is money and time misspent, and they should spend each Sabbath doing community work for the poor . . . painting houses and improving structural safety, helping anyone who needs it. Novarians will pray outside, staring into the evening sky. And when they do that, when they do it right, I’ll see to it that one of my biggest stars goes nova in a brilliant burst of color to fill their minds with wonder. It will be a faith these humans have never before imagined! I see a new Heaven and a new D’Urth. . . . The old images will pass away!”

Corona giggled. “A question for McGod, please.”

“Call me Ev. On second thought, better not. McGod is best.”

“I was just thinking of a star I had named after me when I was a little girl. For a fee, my name was printed in the Star Registry. But the damned—uh, sorry—the star went nova. It blew up and I cried for days. I wondered after I grew up, should I have asked for a refund?”

“You’re suggesting I should concern myself with correcting the smallest of wrongs?”

“I don’t know. But if you’re going to blow up a lot of stars, just think of the problems it could cause.”

“I’ll have to think that through,” McGod said, “I know! I’ll create a new star and blow it up within moments, before anyone can name it, before the life forms of planets can grow to depend on it. I’m sure all the instructions are somewhere in the crystal books Tananius-Ofo left me.”

Corona smiled. “Don’t forget communication, darling, for that seems to have been a principal failing of dear old Tananius-Ofo. He passed his messages on to prophets, and in the dissemination process important details were lost in translation or intentionally distorted. At the end, his only hope was probably to combine the various religious stories and try to ‘sell’ them as a new Great Story that included many parts. It would have been a formidable task.”

“You’re right.”

“Don’t forget the Apostles, either—those seven who knew you are heading back to D’Urth at this very moment. But they have no message from on high; you’ve told them virtually nothing. Mark my words, they’ll talk anyway. Some will claim to have been closest to you, and volumes of your pronouncements will be published. They’ll dredge up things you said on D’Urth and aboard Shusher. There will be distortions no matter your efforts.”

“Well, we’ve got some new technological gadgets that old Tananius didn’t have when he started out. He could always use the Big Voice on one or two people at a time, or even a few thousand, but apparently he never had the power or the energy required to speak to trillions simultaneously. Maybe a simple radio or televid in every house, connected to me, and the folks will get straight-skinny from me every morning.”

“Put your hands on the radio,” Corona intoned, “and say I believe, I believe!”

“Smart aleck. Maybe I’ll use a radio receiver that’s implanted in their brains shortly after birth.”

“Sounds like a police state to me. And what about Free Will? You could crush that with your new and improved human. Maybe you’d be intruding too much with those ideas-pardon me for saying so.”

“I’m going to reshape mankind!” McGod exclaimed. “There are tradeoffs!”

“I don’t know,” she said, with a great sigh. “We’ll talk about it, darling.”

McGod thought for a long while, after which he said, “I only want to know one thing, Kelly. Are you after my job?”

Corona smiled sweetly, did not reply.