Danger, Religion! Part 2

"The Chinese? What have they to do with it?"

"The Red Chinese. Didn't they win the Third World War in your matrix?"

"Win it? They didn't even fight it!"

"Well, then, you're just lucky, Jack, and if I were you I'd be inclined to keep my trap shut. Take what's offered, I say!"

Before I had backed out of his room, he was again spooning stew into his mouth.

In the next room was a little plump man, red in the face and bald of head, who jumped quickly back from fondling his sub girl as I entered with Ann.

"I'm extra-matricial like you," I told him, "and I don't like what I have seen here so far. I hope you feel that these people should not be helped in any way."

"We've rather got to make the best of things now we're here, that's my feeling," he said, coming for-ward to look at me. "What don't you like about this place?"

"Their system of slavery-of mutilating slaves-it alone is enough to convince anyone that the ruling regime should be overthrown. You must feel the same."

He scratched his bald head, considering the idea.

"You could have worse than slavery, you know. At least slavery guarantees that a part of the population lives above the level of animals. In the Britain of my matrix-and I expect you have found the same-the standard of living has been declining ever since the beginning of the century. So much so that some peo-ple are beginning to whisper that communism may not after all be the solution we hoped when it was first generally adopted, and...."

"Communism in Britain? Since when?"

"You sound so surprised, anyone would have thought I said capitalism! After the success of the general strike of 1929, leading to glorious revolution, the first Communist government was established un-der the leadership of Sir Harold Pollitt. Then in the great People's War of 1940...."

"All right, thanks for the lecture! Just tell me this- will you back me in opposing this regime of slavery?"

"Well, I don't oppose you in opposing it, but first I'd have to confer with the comrades and get a rul-ing.

I slammed the door on him. I had backed out hurriedly, and I b.u.mped into another man moving rapidly down the corridor. Brought up short, we regarded each other challengingly. He was young and dark, about my weight and height, with a high bridge to his nose, and I liked the look of him immediately.

"You're an extra-matricial?"

He nodded, smiling gravely, and held out his hand. When I held out mine, he grasped my elbow instead; so I grasped his elbow.

"My name is Mark Claud Gale, at your service. I'm on an errand of revolt, and you look like a possible conscript. None of these spineless fellows will back me up, but I'm not going to give this black-frocked government any help."

"Ah, count me with you all the way, Mark! Great! I am Sherry Meacher, historian and soldier, and I also am recruiting. If we stick together and defy the re-gime, others may follow our example. And then per-haps the slaves...."

The brazen tongue of a bell interrupted me.

"Time for the historical briefing," Mark said. "Let's go and learn what we can, Sherry, of these altar-kissing hounds! Such knowledge may be turned to our use later. By my shrine, but this is an adventure!"

This aspect of the matter had not struck me before, but to have a st.u.r.dy, dependable ally heartened me immensely, and I felt ready for anything. A heady and pleasurable excitement filled me. I could not wait to get to the briefing and to hear, to listen, to be a.s.saulted and insulted by a barrage of new facts that-only a day ago!-would have seemed the wild-est fantasy! Then Mark Claud Gale and I would write a page of history of our own.

A pair of dark-clothed church police appeared at the head of the stairs and began ushering us down.

The bald man from Communist Britain (but for all I knew there were a million Communist Britains) tagged on with us but did not speak. Ann disappeared as we pressed downstairs. Counting heads, I noted that there were twenty-two of us extra-matricials. As we filed into a hall at the back of the foyer, we found another thirty-odd people awaiting us. From the variety of clothes they were wearing, it was apparent that they were also extra-matricials.

We seated ourselves at long tables on benches and looked to the head table, which stood on a dais and contained three men, each with a secretary, and church police standing behind them. One of the three men was Captain Apostolic Rastell; he gave no sign of having noticed me.

When a bell sounded, one of the men on the dais, a white-haired man of good bearing, rose to his feet and began to speak.

"Gentlemen and sinners, we welcome you to our peaceful G.o.d-fearing matrix. We thank you for coming here to bring us help and wisdom. Need I say that your services will be rewarded. I am the Lieutenant Deacon Administered Bligh, and with me are the two members of my committee. Captain Apostolic Rastell is now going to give you a brief history of this matrix so that you may have a correct perspective on our problems. A sub will come round distributing pens and paper to all who wish to make notes."

Rastell rose, bowed slightly to Bligh, and went straight into his talk.

He spoke for almost two hours. From the body of the hall, hardly a whisper came. We listened fascinated to the history of a world like and yet so hauntingly unlike ours. Rastell's version as lavishly trimmed by propaganda, yet the man's own personality enlivened even the heaviest pa.s.sage of dialectic.

A few instances of the strange things Rastell told us must suffice. In this matrix, the concept of nationality has not arisen at as early a date as it had in the matrix I knew. In my home matrix (AA688 Rastell had called it, and I had committed the number to memory), although German and Italian nationality was not achieved until the second half of the nineteenth century, the other great European countries had achieved unity several centuries earlier.

In Rastell's matrix, the kings of England and France had been less successful in their struggles against the feudal lords; one reason for this was, I gathered, that the Church had looked less favorably on the concept of earthly kingdoms. The Church had played the barons against each other and against the Crown. Bishops held more power than kings or par-liaments.

Consequently, Great Britain had not become a united kingdom until 1914, at the time of the Franco-German War, in which Britain remained neutral and the Consolidated Holy States of America sold arma-ments to both sides. In the First World War of 1939, the alignment of power was as I knew it, with a n.a.z.i Germany fighting against Britain and France and, later, Holy Russia and Holy America entering as their allies, while j.a.pan fought on the same side as Germa-ny. j.a.pan, however, had been Christianized. The Americans, having been less attracted to a less heavi-ly industrialized Europe, had turned their attention and their missionaries to j.a.pan earlier than they had done in my matrix.

This led to a crisis in the conduct of the war. American and British scientists developed an atomic bomb.

Before using this weapon against their j.a.pa-nese and German enemies, the thirty-fifth President of the United States Benedict H. Denning, consulted with the Convocation of Churches.

The Convocation was a powerful group. It not only forbade the use of such a weapon against nominally Christian countries; it gradually took over jurisdiction of the weapon. The war lasted until 1951, by which time the Church was completely in control of all nuclear-power development.

A long and hard war had vitiated the C.H.S.A. and her allies. At the end of the conflict, weak governments fell and a strong church with popular backing rose as a challenging power. Its rule had spread to other countries, particularly to Europe, which was occupied after the war, not by armed forces, but by battalions of militant churchmen.

In 1955, World Church waged a brief nuclear war against China and won.

Since that date, almost a century ago, World Church had kept the fruits and the secrets of nuclear power under her voluminous skirts.

Exhaustion of natural resources had necessitated the employment of subject populations, but there had been no war in the West since 1951. The rule of religion poured out its benefits on to all mankind. What Rastell did not mention were any negative or suppressive results of this rule.

Some of these suppressions were obvious enough. With an autocratic central control and the lack of incentives that wars provide, scientific and technolog-ical developments had dropped away. World popula-tion, on the other hand, had risen steeply. Rastell mentioned at one point that, after the amalgamation of the Universal Christian Church in 1979, methods of contraception were universally discouraged. The new populations were born into slavery.

"We have been able to turn away from materialism because we have a large subject population to per-form the menial tasks of the world for us," Rastell said. It struck me at the time that this was a twisted way of saying that almost every nation without mechanical labor is forced to use slaves.

From what he said, and from what he omitted, it became apparent that almost the only scientific de-velopment since the 1960s was the portals, and trans-matricial travel. The Church had not encouraged s.p.a.ce travel. No doubt they would have been shocked to learn of the Battle of Venus in the Fifth World War, in which I had taken part.

When Rastell had finished speaking, silence lay over the hall. It had grown dusk while he talked; now lights came on reluctantly as we returned to awareness of our own situation. I could see by the faces about me that to many of the extra-matricials, Rastell's material had been more astonishing than I found it.

What amazed me most was the way the Church had departed from what it represented in my matrix.

Perhaps it was the possession of nuclear power that had worked the change. Such a possession would'

have needed strong men to control it, and obviously the strong men had ousted the meek. Another case of absolute power corrupting absolutely. So I said to myself, with the Church cast as villain of the piece.

Then Administered Bligh rose again and said nothing to make me doubt my own reasoning.

"Now that you have a perspective with which to work," he said, "World Church can proceed to place before you the problem with which we are immedi-ately faced. As you know, you were brought here to give us your help. All of you are students of history in some form or other, in your separate matrices. A meal is going to be served to you right away; afterward I shall explain our problem in detail and invite your ad-vice; but now I will put it to you in general terms so that you can consider it while you eat.

"We try to instill into our subject population the eternal truth that life in this world is always accom-panied by sorrow, alike for those that lead and those that are led, and that they must expect to find their rewards for virtue in the Hereafter. But subs do not learn.

"Several times they have risen against their mas-ters, against World Church. Now-I will tell you frank-ly, gentlemen-we are faced with a much more serious revolt. The subs have captured the capital; Lon-don is in their hands. The Church there was ... somewhat decadent.... The question we are going to ask you, with all its ramifications, is this: will leniency or harshness be the most effective way of dealing with them?

"Should we destroy London with nuclear weapons and thus risk raising the specter of martyrdom, to inspire other slaves communities? Or should we force them to surrender and forgive them, killing only the ringleaders-thus allowing them to believe that World Church held back not through mercy but weakness?

"Either course is open to us. But we need the benefit of historical knowledge from war-torn matrices to formulate the better solution.

"World Church will bless you for your aid."

He sat down. Already plates were clattering. Subs of both s.e.xes poured forth from doors at the far end of the hall, bearing food. Greasy steam poured from the kitchens, and the smell of porridge and meat.

The little bald man from Communist Britain was sitting next to me.

"An interesting poser, that," he said. "Leniency al-ways impresses the uniformed mind, if it is properly stage-managed."

"Ah, but terror impresses them more," someone else said, and laughed.

"These Church people are dogs, spineless hypo-crites," Mark told him. "And you must come from a nasty bootlicking culture if you can seriously give their problem a minute's thought. Don't you agree Sherry?'

He turned his clouded, honest face to me.

'It cheers me immensely to hear that they are hav-ing trouble in London, Mark! There are about fifty extra-matricials here. Most of them must feel as we do and will refuse to help this regime. Let's find them and get together...."

Mark held up his hand.

"No, Sherry. Listen, I have a simpler idea!" He leaned forward to speak confidentially. Bald Head also leaned forward to catch his words. Mark put his palm over the man's nose and pushed him away.

"Go away and play in the bushes, smoothpate," he said. To me he said, "Two's never a crowd. An undis-ciplined bunch of men is nothing but a pain in the kilt. I know, I've had experience. In my own matrix, I'm history instructor in one of our military schools. I've served all over the world-I only got back from legion duty in Kashmir a week before these people grabbed me. Believe me, this paltry Church is used to dealing with slaves, not free men, or they could solve their own problems. The two of us can get away with murder."

"What are you planning?" I had a nasty feeling that I was letting myself in for more trouble than I had bargained for.

"First, we test their resourcefulness. At the same time we get weapons. Can you fight, Sherry? You look like a warrior to me."

"I fought in World War V, on Earth and Venus."

"All these world wars! My matrix is completely different-we only have local campaigns. Much more sensible! Much more civilized! When we have time, we must talk and talk-and listen, of course. First, we must get to the kitchens. Kitchens are always well stocked with weapons, even if these curs are vegetari-an. Come on!"

He did not wait for my agreement. He had slipped from the table and was off, bent double so that he could not be seen from the dais. I did the only possible thing. Glad in my heart to be committed, I followed.

Double swing-doors of heavy wood led into the kitchens. We barged in. It was a huge place, bathed in steam, and gave an impression of darkness rather than dirt. All the equipment looked incredibly old-fashioned.

An overseer with a short whip in his hand saw us at once and came toward us. He had a long raw face and sandy eyebrows-yes, an Edinburgh type, I thought-even as I cast about and noted that there was only one other overseer in the whole place, to watch over the activities of perhaps thirty slaves. A plan formed in my mind.

"Leave this fellow to me," I told Mark.

As the overseer came up, with a "What do you gentlemen want, pray?" on his lips, I swung a metal tray from a table at my right hand. The edge of it caught him clean across the bridge of his nose, and he dropped as if dead, without a cry. I saw he had a yellow disc between his shoulder blades.

"I'll get the other foot-kisser," Mark said, clapping my shoulder as he pa.s.sed.

There were thick-handled mops standing in buck-ets against one wall. I seized one and ran it through the handles of the doors into the hall. That would hold them temporarily. Another pair of swing doors led to a scullery; I fixed them in the same way. Another door led from the kitchen, a wide door giv-ing on to a courtyard. Pushing a great wooden table, I smashed it against the door and jammed it shut. For a moment, the kitchen was ours!

Turning, I saw that Mark had settled with his overseer. By now the slaves had grasped the fact that something was happening. They stopped their various tasks and stood gaping at us. Grabbing a butcher's knife lying on a bench, I jumped up on to the bench and shouted to them.

"Men, you can all be free! It's a man's right to be free! Better to die than be a slave! Arm yourselves and help us fight those who oppress you. You are not alone. If you help us, others will help you. Now is the time for revenge. Arm yourselves! Fight for your free-dom! Fight for your lives!"

I saw Mark turn to me in amazement and horror. Even more surprising was the response of the wretch-ed subs. They knotted together in fear, gazing at me as if I were about to slaughter them. I waved my arms and bellowed at them again. A hammering at the hall doors roused them. Crying, they rushed for it and began to try and tear away my mop, each imped-ing the other in their anxiety.

Jumping down among them, I pushed them back.

They were flimsy and frightened, falling away from my blows.

"I'm trying to help you! Are you cowards? Don't let them in-they'll kill you. You know they'll kill you.

Barricade the doors with the tables! Strike for free-dom!"

All they did was shrink back. A few uttered a sort of unvocalized cry. Mark roughly grabbed my arm.

"Sherry, by my shrine, you're crazy! These dogs are born slaves! Dregs! Outcasts! Sc.u.m! - Useless to us! They won't fight! - Slaves never do unless they have tasted better days. Leave them, let them be butch-ered! Arm yourself and let's get out of here."

"But Mark, the whole idea "

He shoved a great bunched fist under my jaw, swinging it without touching me in time with his words.

"The idea is to overturn this rotting World Church! I know where my duty lies-it lies with the free, not with the servile! Forget this greasy-armed sc.u.m! Grab a bigger knife and move. Let's get out of here!"

"But we can't leave these people...."

"You liberal fool, we can and we will! They're dirt, not people!"

He ran across to a long lead sink and pulled a heavy chopping knife from it, tossing it to me. As I caught it, he again bellowed at me to move. His fighting blood was up, his face was scarlet. By now, the ham-mering on the kitchen door had grown in volume. They would be breaking in at any moment. The slaves cowered in a group nearby, watching Mark and me anxiously. Some crossed themselves. I turned and ran after Mark.

He pointed to a large service elevator in one corner. We rushed to it.

"It only leads upstairs!"

"That'll do. Get in and haul on the rope!"

We jumped into the c.u.mbersome contraption. It could be maneuvered from inside by the ropes that supported it.

"Hey, stop! Wait for me!"

At the shout, both Mark and I turned. The overseer I had laid out with the tray was staggering toward us. "Let me join you," he said. "I'd sooner die than carry on as I am. I'll fight on your side. I'm for you!"

"You're an overseer. We don't want you!" I said. "No, wait," Mark said. "He is a promoted slave, isn't that right, fellow? They have plenty of fight in them because they've learned the difference between bet-ter and worse. Climb in, man, and be welcome. You can show us the layout of this infernal place."

The overseer jumped in beside us and helped us haul on the ropes. We creaked up into darkness. As we bent to the task, Mark said, "We want church police uniforms as quickly as possible. Then we can walk out of die building unnoticed!"

"Och, that should be easy enough," grunted the overseer. "Friends, whether we meet with death or daylight, my name's Andy Campbell, and I'm glad to be in your company."