"Following this reasoning, if all stay Awake, the effect will be the same as if most Slept. Only, the essentially 'good' will have a chance to be thoroughly purified of the evil elements present even in the best."
"He could be right," Carmody said.
"Yess could also be very wrong. We think he is. But even if he is right, think of what will happen! Even if the predictions are wrong, at least a fourth would be killed. What a devastation, what a slaughter! Men, women, children!"
"It does seem frightful."
"Frightful! It's hideous, savage! Why, even Algul could not think of anything so fiendish! If I did not know better I would say. . ."
He stopped, rose, and moved close to the Earthman. He whispered, "There have been rumors that it was not really Yess who was bom during that Night. It was Algul. But Algul, clever as he is, claimed to be Yess. Such a trick would be just like the Deceiver."
Carmody smiled and said, "You can't be serious?"
"Of course not. Do you think I'm one of those poor fools? But this kind of rumor shows the people's confusion. They can't understand how their great and kind god could require them to do this."
"Your scriptures predict just such an event."
Abog looked frightened, and there was panic in his voice.
"True, but nobody ever expected it to happen. Only a handful of the superorthodox believed in it, even prayed for it."
"There's something I don't understand," Carmody said. "What would happen to those who just refused to go through the Night?"
"Anybody who refuses to obey an order of Yess is automatically and legally classified as a follower of Algul. He can be arrested and imprisoned."
"But he still won't have to undergo the Night?"
"Oh, yes, he will. He'll not be given the drags to put him Asleep, and he'll have to face whatever comes, in a prison cell."
"But suppose there's a mass resistance? The government wouldn't have time or the facilities to deal with a large body of people, would they?"
"You don't understand Kareenans. No matter how frightened they will be, the majority would find it unthinkable to disobey Yess."
The more Carmody thought about it, the less he liked it. To some extent, he could understand the men and women being forced to go through with it, but the children! The innocents would suffer; most of them would die. If a parent hated his child, consciously or unconsciously, he would kill the child. And those parents who were defending their children against the attacks of others might be killed, and then the children would die, too.
"I don't understand it," he said. "But then I am not, as you pointed out, a Kareenan."
"But will you try to persuade him not to force this?"
"Have you talked to the other Fathers?"
"Some of them," Abog said. "I got nowhere. They will go along with whatever Yess wants."
Carmody was silent for a while. He fully intended to argue with Yess, but he was not sure that it would be wise to tell Abog so. Who knew what capital Abog and the party he represented might make of his statement? Or what resentment Yess might have if Carmody's intentions were published?
"I'll just have to take the consequences," Carmody said aloud. "All right, I do mean to talk Yess out of making the decision you and so many others fear. But I do not want to be quoted on TV or have this interview printed in the papers. If such happens, I'll deny everything."
Abog seemed happy. Smiling, he said, "Very good. Perhaps you can succeed where others have failed. So far, he has made no official pronouncement. There's time yet."
He thanked Carmody and left.
The priest called Gilson back and told him to come up; then he notified the guards to let the Earthman in when he came.
The phone rang a third time. Tand's face appeared on the screen.
"I'm sorry, John. Yess can't see you tonight. But he will see you tomorrow night at the Temple. Meanwhile, what do you intend to do to pass the time?"
"I think I'll put on a mask and join the merrymakers in the street."
"You can, because you're a Father," Tand said. "But your Earth compatriots, those men you spoke about, Lieftin and Abdu, they can't. I got the police to restrict them to the hotel unless they agree to go through the Night. As a matter of fact, all non-Kareenans are restricted by the new ruling. I'm afraid there'll be a lot of disgruntled tourists and scientists tonight. But that's the way it is."
"You swing a lot of weight, Tand."
"I don't overuse my power. But I think this ruling is a good idea. I'd like to go out with you, John, but I'm tied up with too many official duties. Power brings its responsibilities, you know."
"I know. Good night, Tand."
His hand passed over the screen, and he turned to walk away. The phone rang. This time, it was not a face but a hideous mask that appeared on the screen. The mask blocked out all view of what lay behind it. From the noises Carmody surmised that the phone was in a public booth on one of the main streets.
The voice that issued from the stiff lips of the mask was distorted.
"Carmody, this is Fratt. I just wanted to get a good look at you before you died. I want to see if you're suffering, although you could not possibly suffer as much as my son and I did."
The priest forced himself to be calm. In an even voice he said, "Fratt, I don't even know you. I can't even remember the incident you allege took place. So, why don't you come up to my room and talk to me? Maybe you'll change your mind."
There was a pause so long that Carmody decided he had shocked Fratt. Then, "You don't think I'd be fool enough to put myself again in the power of a man like you? You must be insane!"
"All right. You name the time and place. I'll come alone to meet you; we'll talk this thing out."
"Oh, you'll meet me all right. But it'll be when and where you'll least expect it. At least, I've got you sweating. And begging."
A glove shaped like a claw moved up before the mask, and the screen went blank. Carmody went to the door in answer to the clanging of the knocker. Gilson entered.
Angrily, he said, "I'm afraid I won't be able to help you much, Father. I've just been notified that I'm restricted to the hotel."
"That's my fault," the bishop said. He told Gilson what had happened, but Gilson did not seem any happier, especially after he heard Carmody's account of the phone conversation with Fratt.
"I might as well take the next ship out," he said.
"Let's go down to the hotel dining room and eat," Carmody said. "It's on me. And I understand that the hotel has an Earth cook for those who can't adapt themselves to a Kareenan diet. Only trouble is, he's Mexican. If you don't like enchiladas, tortillas, chili burros, well. . ."
In the dining room, they found Lieftin and Abdu sitting at the same table. Both men were picking at their food and looking very disgruntled. Carmody invited himself to sit with them, and Gilson followed his example. Gilson was introduced as a businessman.
"Has your request for an interview with Yess been denied?" Carmody asked Lieftin.
Lieftin growled and said, "They were polite but they made it clear that I couldn't see him until after the Night."
"You could take the Sleep," Carmody said, then paused. "Hmm, if Yess forbids Sleep, will he make the edict apply to non-Kareenans, too?"
"Do you mean that I could Sleep and then interview Yess afterwards?" Lieftin said, his face red. "Nothing doing!"
Carmody wondered why Lieftin was so vehement. If Lieftin were the assassin, he would want to complete his job before the Night started.
"Are you going back now?" Carmody said to Abdu. "You can't complete any business now."
"This restriction handicaps me," Abdu answered, "but I can conduct business over the phone."
"I wouldn't think you could do much during the festival. Most businesses are shut down now."
"Kareenans are like Terrestrials. There are always a few who'll do business no matter what, even during an earthquake."
Lieftin jerked a thumb toward the entrance to the
hotel. "See those two guys dressed in the blue and red feathers? They're cops. They're making sure we don't leave this forsaken tomb."
"It is quiet," Carmody said. He looked around. Aside from a waiter standing ten tables away, they were the only ones in the dining room. Moreover, the lobby beyond was occupied only by several desk clerks and bellhops, all silent and glum.
"I can't stand my room," Lieftin said. "It's like being in a mausoleum. All that cold stone and deathly silence. How the, uh, how do the Kareenans stand living in places like this?"
"They have certain resemblances to the ancient Egyptians," the bishop said. "They think much of death and their short stay on this planet. They like to be reminded that this is only a stopping-off place."
"What's their idea of Heaven? And Hell?" Abdu said.
Carmody started to speak, then waited for Lieftin to answer. If Lieftin really were what he claimed to be, he would have to know at least the elements of Kareenan religion. His church was not likely to send an unbriefed man here on such a mission; spaceship travel cost too much.
Lieftin started to eat, his eyes on his plate. When it became evident he was not going to reply to Abdu, Carmody said, "Boontism has a two-level Heaven. The bottom level is for those who are worshipers of Yess, who strive to be 'good' but do not dare to test themselves by going through the Night. These live forever in a place similar to their earthly existence. That is, they must work, sleep, they have discomforts, pain, frustration, boredom, etc. But they do live forever.
"The top level is for those worshipers of Yess who successfully dare the Night. These are supposed to enjoy eternal ecstasy, a mystical ecstasy. The experience, you might say, is like that which the saved of the Christian religion have. They see God face to face, only in this case it's the mystical face of Yess, the glory behind the fleshy mask of Yess. No one sees Boonta, not even Her son."
"What about their Hell?" Abdu said.
"There are two Hells, also. The lower level is for the religiously indifferent, the lukewarms, the hypocrites, the self-deceived. And also for those who dared the Night but failed. You see, that's one of the reasons why so few Yessites stay Awake. It's true that the rewards of success are worth the ordeal. But failure casts you down into Hell. And there are always so many failures. It's safer not to take a chance and so go to Heaven's lower level.
"The top layer of Hell is reserved for the true Algulists. And these have their own ecstasy, analogous to that which the high-level Yessites enjoy. Only it's a dark joy, the orgasm of evil. Inferior to that of Heaven's, but, if you're a genuine Algulist, you prefer it. Evil craves evil, wants nothing but evil."
"It's a crazy religion," Lieftin said.
"The Kareenans say the same thing about ours."
Carmody excused himself, leaving Gilson to his own devices, and went back to his room. He had Gilson called to the phone.
"I'm going out for a while. I want to see an old friend of mine, a Kareenan. And I also want to give Fratt a chance to strike. Maybe that way I can get hold of him, either neutralize him or talk him into some sense. Certainly I can find out then who he is and what I did that makes him so bent on revenge."
"He might get you first."
"I'm well aware of that. Oh, another thing. I'm going to call Tand and see if he can use his influence again. I want him to release you from restriction. Not for the Fratt case. You should watch our prime suspect, Lieftin. If he makes a break, as I strongly believe he will, I don't want you hampered in trailing him."
"Thanks," Gilson said. "I'll keep an eye on him."
Carmody cut the operative off, and he spoke Tand's number to the receiver. Tand's face appeared on the screen.
"You're lucky," he said. "I was just leaving. What can I do for you?"
Carmody told him what he wanted. Tand replied that there would be no difficulty. He would put the order through immediately.
"Actually, we can use extra help. We don't have anybody to shadow Lieftin if he does get loose, as he can, if he's ingenious enough."
"The old Lieftin could do it," the priest said.
"I'll tell you the truth. It's not only Earth assassins we're worried about. The Algulists will be making their moves before the Night begins. When I say Algulist, I'm not only talking about those who've gotten through the Night. I'm talking about the entire secret society, which is largely composed of those who have not chanced the Night. Our government is honeycombed with them, and I say this knowing that our conversation may be monitored."
"There's something I don't understand," Carmody said. "Why are those Algulists who passed the Night during the reign of Yess still living? You remember when I'd been caught by the statue and had not made up my mind which way I was going, whether I'd choose the six of Yess or the six of Algul? Well, when I did make my choice, and it was definitely ascertained that Mary's baby would be Yess, the would-be Fathers of Algul tried to run away. But they died.
"Now, I had always thought that Algulists survived the Night only if Algul won. Yet I've heard from you and others that successfully beNighted Algulists survive, are living right now. Why?"
"Those you saw die did so because we six Fathers, consciously, and you unconsciously, willed them to die. But there were other Algulists, not Fathers, who survived. They did not die because we did not know about them.
"It's illegal to be an Algulist, you know. The penalty is death. Of course, if Algul should ever win -- Boonta forbid -- then you may be sure that any Yessite who's caught will be executed. And much more painfully than an Algulist now dies."
"Thank you, Tand. I'm going now to visit Mrs. Kri. I presume she's still living at the old place?"
"I really couldn't say. I haven't seen or heard of her for many years."
Carmody ordered a costume sent up to him, one with a large mask, that of a trogur bird. He put it on and then left the hotel, after having presented his credentials to the guards stationed at the main doorway. Before leaving, he looked into the dining room and saw that Gilson, Lieftin, and Abdu had left. However, about a dozen non-Kareenans were dining. They, too, looked depressed.
Outside, the tomb-like silence of the hotel gave way to a storm of music, shouts, screams, tootling of horns, whistles, firecrackers, drums, and bull-roarers. The streets were jammed with a noisy chaos of costume-clad merrymakers.
Carmody slowly made his much-jostled way through the mob. After about fifteen minutes, he managed to get to a side street which was much less populated. He walked for another fifteen minutes before he saw a taxi. The cabbie was not very eager to take a fare, but Carmody insisted. Grumbling beneath his breath, the driver eased the car through the crowds, and presently they were in a district through which they could drive with reasonable speed. Even so, the taxi had to stop now and then to nudge through clots of masquers walking toward the main streets.
It was a half-hour before the taxi halted in front of Mrs. Kri's house. By then, the huge moon of Kareen was up, shedding its silver confetti on the black and gray stones of the massive houses. Carmody got out, paid the driver, and asked him to wait. The driver, who had apparently resigned himself to missing the fun, agreed.
Carmody strode up the walk, then stopped to look at the tree that had once been Mr. Kri. It had grown much larger since he had last seen it. It towered at least thirty-five meters high, and its branches spread out across the yard.
"Hello, Mr. Kri," the priest said.
He went on by the unresponding man-plant to clang the huge knocker on the big iron door. There were no lights in the windows, and he began to wonder if he had been too hasty. He should have phoned first. But Mrs. Kri would be old by now, since the geriatrics of Earth was available only to wealthy Kareenans. He had taken it for granted that she would be staying home.
He clanged the knocker again. Silence. He turned to walk away, and as he did so he heard the door creak open behind him. A voice called, "Who is it?"
Carmody returned, taking off his mask.
"John Carmody, Earthman," he said. Light
streamed out of the doorway. In it stood an old female. But it was not Mrs. Kri.
"I lived here at one time," he said. "Long ago. I thought I'd drop by to see Mrs. Kri."
The shriveled-up old woman seemed frightened at confronting an alien from interstellar space. She closed the door until only part of her face showed, and said in a quavering voice, "Mrs. Kri doesn't live here any more."
"Would you mind telling me where I might find her?" Carmody asked gently.
"I don't know. She decided to go through the last Night, and that's the last anyone ever heard of her."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Carmody said, and meant it. Despite her testiness and flightiness, he had been fond of Mrs. Kri.
He returned to the taxi. As he drew near, the headbeams of another car swung around the nearby corner, and a car sped toward him. Carmody dived under the taxi, thinking, as he did so, that he was probably making a fool of himself. But he did not usually argue with his hunches.
Nor was he wrong this time. Gunfire exploded; glass shattered. The taxi driver screamed. Then the car was gone down the street, gathering speed as it went. Its tires screeched going around a corner, and it disappeared.
Carmody started to rise. Something flashed just before his head came above the window of the car. He was hurled backward, blinded and deafened.
When he managed to get to his feet again, he was enveloped in bitter smoke. Fire spurted upward from the interior of the car and revealed, through the blown-open door on his side, the body half-hanging out of the car.
He ran back to the house and beat the knocker repeatedly against the tightly shut door. There was no sound within. He did not blame the old woman for not answering him; probably she was calling the police.
He picked up his mask, replaced it over his head, and started walking. The ringing went out of his ears and the dazzle out of his eyes. In two minutes he was inside a public phone booth. He called Gilson at the hotel, but the operative did not answer. He tried Lieftin. This time, a Kareenan policeman appeared on the screen.
At the policeman's request, Carmody took his mask off. The Kareenan's eyes widened on seeing the Earth Father of Yess, and his manner became very respectful.