"You could have stopped her."

"And that would have diminished her, Jim. She'd had her own Revelation too-just as you did-about her relationship with the new gods."

"I guess . . . I guess I'm looking for some sign of humanity."

"You're looking for what you think humanity is, Jim. But remember, all you have as a definition of humanity is the old node of being human. What we're up to here is creating a new mode of humanity. And what Jessie did may very well be a part of it."

"It hurts," I admitted.

"I know," he said.

"Doesn't it hurt you too?"

"Yes. I have feclings of pain and sorrow, very strong ones. I'm the baby's father."

I stared at him. He nodded. He touched my shoulder and we kept walking. I didn't know what to say.

Jason said, "Just remember, Jim. You're not your feelings. Your feelings are never valid justifications for your actions. If you get angry, does that justify your being violent? No. It only explains it or rationalizes it. But it doesn't let you off the hook. You are still responsible. I'm responsible for Jason over here. Jessie will be responsible for Jessie over there."

I said, "I guess there's still too much I don't understand. It feels wrong to me."

"I know. And it will probably continue to feel wrong for as long as you keep identifying with your old standards of human lachavior. You're going to have to give those up if you're going to live with the gods, Jim."

I stared at the ground as we walked. "I don't know, Jason. It keeps getting harder."

Jason clapped me on the back. "Of course it does. That's because you're getting bigger, more powerful-so you keep needing heavier loads to bear. You're growing up, Jim. Just remember this: God never gives anyone a heavier burden than they can carry."

"How convenient."

"Are you ready for your new job, Jim?"

I shrugged. "I'll find out when I do it, won't I?"

Jason laughed. "You'll be all right. Listen, we're going to be moving out before summer. We need to arrange a convoy. We need to find a new location. We've got some places in mind, but we really need to access a terminal and see what's available. What we want is a secluded ranch somewhere. We'll need fuel for the trucks, we'll need to replenish our store of rations. We'll need some frozen meat for the babies. We've just about used up the dogs. "

"Jason?" I interrupted.

"Yes?"

"I know the Chtorrans are omnivorous. They can eat trees and plants and shrubs and vegetables and just about anything else. Why do we have to have meat for them?"

"It forces their growth, Jim. Meat is high-energy food. Plants aren't. Plants are lower on the food chain. The new gods would have to spend all day foraging, all day eating, and pretty soon the countryside around here would get pretty bare. And that would show up on the satellite scans. By feeding them meat, we keep them fat and happy and that buys us enough time for us to school each other. Meat gives us the energy surplus we need to stay at the extraordinary level with the new gods."

"Oh," I said. I was trying hard to figure out the biology of the situation-without the overlay of philosophy. It was getting harder and harder.

"We could have a dozen babies if we had the resources to feed them. But we don't. That's why I want to find a place where we can start a food-breeding program. I think sheep or goats. There's so much we have to do. You're going to be a valuable part of it, Jim."

"Me?"

"Mm-hm. I'm thinking about your military background. You could access a military terminal, couldn't you?"

"Sure."

"Well, I'll bet we could find a lot of the information we need from the central military banks, couldn't we?"

"I'm certain of it."

"And supplies?"

"Sure. The army cached supplies all over the country during the plagues. Especially in the aftermath year, when everybody was trying to put things together. The army had substations all over the place. Some of them are just sitting there forgotten. When the government started to recentralize, a lot of stations were just locked up and left. It'd be easy to list them."

"There's a station near Atascadero. You mentioned that one once. Would that be a good place?"

"No. That's a Special Forces base. I sort of lied about that. I wanted you to attack it, because I knew the kind of force they had there. They'd have clobbered you. No, stay away from the Atascadero base. What you want is something like . . . oh, let me see. Not Diablo. Too much radiation. Hm, Stockton's too populated still. Livermore might work. But I think the best bet is to hit one of the numbers on Interstate 5. I'll have to check the maps. "

"Could you do it by Thursday?"

"The day after tomorrow?"

"Mm-hm. What we want to do is target the most likely area, und as soon as we get to a public terminal, update our maps and make u final decision."

"I'm going with?"

"Uh-huh. "

"You trust me? Even with my doubts?"

"Jim, you'll always have doubts. We both know that. So what? I'm not interested in your doubts. I'm interested in your results. Are you going to produce results for me?"

"Of course."

"Terrific. Then there's nothing to worry about, is there?"

"No. I guess not."

"You guess?" Jason smiled wryly.

"No, I don't guess at anything anymore."

At least, now I understood what the two gold coins were for. They were to be placed on the eyes of my corpse.

An old tradition. The coins were to be used by the recently deceased to pay the ferryman's toll. The assumption was that Charon, the boatman who plied the river Styx, did not give freebies.

So I thought about that for a while.

The traditional view of the ferry was the one derived from the Gustav Dore illustrations for Dante's Inferno; a hooded, cloaked figure standing dourly in the stern of a grim-looking gondola, poling his way across the dank, fetid Styx with dispassionate gloom.

That was the traditional view.

But I expected something more modern.

With the traffic crossing the Styx these days, a Hovercraft would be far more appropriate, or maybe one of the superferries that ran between Calais and Dover. For that matter, why not just put in a toll bridge and be done with the whole tawdry business of ferries and boatmen and pennies on a dead man's eyes?

But there would probably be an interminable wait in the customs line.

I wondered if there would be duty-free shopping.

What kind of souvenirs would you find in hell anyway?

I wondered if anyone would be waiting for me. Dad? Shorty? Duke? Or, maybe . . .

Never mind. I'd find out soon enough.

Foreman had stepped off the platform. He was conferring quietly with the Course Manager. She nodded and returned to the back of the room. Foreman climbed back up the steps and looked at me. "You don't believe this yet, do you?"

I blinked back to the present.

I was still sitting in the canvas chair. I was still on the platform. I was still in The Survival Process.

"I-I'm sorry. I was thinking."

"Yes, that's right," Foreman agreed. "You were performing an activity or a learned behavior which you have connected to survival."

Foreman turned to face the room. "Here's what's going to happen, I'm going to explain some things about how the mind works. Then we're going to talk about them. And we're going to a:vlk about this process. Talking about this process is the main part of the process. It will demonstrate just how firmly connected to survival all of you really are."