Stranger in a Strange Land

Digby looked up and smiled. «His message is for a pilgrim from another planet — Valentine Michael Smith the Man from Mars! Where are you, Valentine Michael! Stand up!»

Jill tried to stop him but Jubal growled, «Easier not to fight it. Let him stand. Wave, Mike. Sit down.» Mike did so, amazed that they were now chanting: «Man from Mars! … Man from Mars!»

The sermon seemed to be directed at him, too, but he could not understand it. The words were English, but they seemed to be put together wrongly and there was so much noise, so much clapping, so many shouts of «Hallelujah!» and «Happy Day!» that he grew quite confused.

The sermon ended, Digby turned the service back to the young priest and left; Boone stood up. «Come, folks. We'll sneak out ahead of the crowd.»

Mike followed, Jill's hand in his. Presently they were going through an elaborately arched tunnel. Jubal said, «Does this lead to the parking lot? I told my driver to wait.»

«Eh?» Boone answered. «Yes, straight ahead. But we're going to see the Supreme Bishop.»

«What?» Jubal replied. «No, it's time for us to go.»

Boone stared. «Doctor, the Supreme Bishop is waiting. You must pay your respects. You're his guests.»

Jubal gave in. «Well — There won't be a lot of people? This boy has had enough excitement.»

«Just the Supreme Bishop.» Boone ushered them into an elevator; moments later they were in a parlor of Digby's apartments.

A door opened, Digby hurried in. He had removed his vestments and was dressed in flowing robes. He smiled. «Sorry to keep you waiting, folks — I have to shower as soon as I come off. You've no notion how it makes you sweat to punch Satan. So this is the Man from Mars? God bless you, son. Welcome to the Lord's House. Archangel Foster wants you to feel at home. He's watching over you.»

Mike did not answer. Jubal was surprised to see how short Digby was. Lifts in his shoes on stage? Or the lighting? Aside from the goatee he wore in imitation of Foster the man reminded Jubal of a used car salesman — the same smile and warm manner. But he reminded Jubal of someone in particular — Got it! «Professor» Simon Magus, Becky Vesey's long-dead husband. Jubal felt friendlier toward the clergyman. Simon had been as likeable a scoundrel as he had ever known —

Digby turned his charm on Jill. «Don't kneel, daughter; we're just friends in private here.» He spoke with her, startling Jill with knowledge of her background and adding earnestly, «I have deep respect for your calling, daughter. In the blessed words of Archangel Foster, God commands us to minister to the body in order that the soul may seek the light untroubled by the flesh. I know that you are not yet one of us … but your service is blessed by the Lord. We are fellow travelers on the road to Heaven.»

He turned to Jubal. «You, too, Doctor. Archangel Foster tells us that the Lord commands us to be happy … and many is the time I have put down my crook, weary unto death, and enjoyed a happy hour over one of your stories … stood up refreshed, ready to fight again.»

«Uh, thank you, Bishop.»

«I mean it deeply. I've had your record searched in Heaven — now, now, never mind; I know that you are an unbeliever. Even Satan has a purpose in God's Great Plan. It is not time for you to believe. Out of your sorrow and heartache and pain you spin happiness for others. This is credited on your page of the Great Ledger. Now please! I did not bring you here to argue theology. We never argue, we wait until you see the light and then welcome you. Today we shall just enjoy a happy hour together.»

Jubal conceded that the glib fraud was a good host; his coffee and liquor and food were excellent. Mike seemed jumpy, especially when Digby got him aside and spoke with him alone — but, confound it, the boy had to get used to meeting people.

Boone was showing Jill relics of Foster in a case on the other side of the room; Jubal watched with amusement while he spread pate de foie gras on toast. He heard a door click and looked around; Digby and Mike were missing. «Where did they go, Senator?»

«Eh? What was that, Doctor?»

«Bishop Digby and Mr. Smith. Where are they?»

Boone seemed to notice the closed door. «Oh, they've stepped in there for a moment. That's a retiring room for private audiences. Weren't you in it? When the Supreme Bishop was showing you around?»

«Um, yes.» It was a room with a chair on a dais — a «Throne,» Jubal corrected himself with a grin — and a kneeler. Jubal wondered which one would use the throne and which would be stuck with the kneeler — if this tinsel bishop tried to argue religion with Mike he was in for shocks. «I hope they don't stay long.»

«I doubt if they will. Probably Mr. Smith wanted a word in private. Look, I'll have your cab wait at the end of that passageway where we took the elevator — that's the Supreme Bishop's private entrance. Save you a good ten minutes.»

«That's very kind.»