"Would you like a drink?" I offered.
"Praise Jesus, no," he said. His voice was sweet and reedy. "It'd be a shame to meet the Lord all messed up, now, wouldn't it?"
"The Lord's not here," I countered. "It's a bunch of brains from another dimension. They're parasites."
"Gary Herber's here," said the man stubbornly. "I seen him on TV. Gary's come to roll out the scrolls."
"What — what does Gary Herber look like?" I asked. I had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be. "Does he look sort of like a toad? A short fellow with ropy lips?"
"That's right, friend. And he has an angel with him. A blond angel what really flies. Our minister brang us up here to join salvation."
At the edge of town there was a welcoming committee, round-shouldered young men with wholesome smiles. They herded the new arrivals into a big building and — presumably — slapped Garyslugs on everyone inside. I sidestepped this action by stuffing my sweater under my shirt and saying I was already saved. The whole scene seemed amazingly disorganized on both sides. The Herberites didn't give much more of a damn than the soldiers did. If you wanted a slug on your back, you could have one, and if you didn't want a slug, that was fine, too.
I walked up Suydam Street, wondering where I'd find Harry. His apartment seemed like the logical place to look first. He'd either be there or at the local TV station.
There were a lot of people in the street, all of them wearing brains. Despite the chill, most of them had their shirts off so that the Gary-slugs could touch each other and converse. I hung onto my canteen of booze and enjoyed staring at the women's tits. Weird to see so many of them at once.
When I was still a couple of blocks from Harry's, a cry went up from the people around me. "The angel of the Lord! Gary's angel!"
It was Sondra, stark naked and with a Garybrain on her back. She flew about fifteen feet overhead, staring down at us with a glassy smile. I covered my face lest she recognize me.
"These are the last times!" bellowed a woman next to me. "Praise Jesus!" I took another drink and pushed my way forward. I hoped the blunzer would still work. I had to undo this madness.
The closer I got to Harry's, the denser the crowd got. It was like Mardi Gras — except everyone was high on slug-stim instead of booze. Some zealot ripped my shirt off, exposing my naked back. Herberites rubbed up against me so their spineriders could split onto me, but by now I had enough booze in my system to be unpalatable.
"Follow Gary!" chanted the crowd. "Be Clean! Teach God's Laws! Follow Gary! Be…"
So far they'd been totally nonviolent, but I was getting more and more nervous. I kept pushing forward, smiling a lot, and occasionally splashing a little alcohol on my back. It was hard to see why the army didn't move in and clean up this mess. I guess they were too drunk.
Finally I was in front of Gerber Cybernetics. There were some guys guarding the door. One of them was really big. I lurched forward and made my request. "Can I go in? I'm an old friend of Harry Gerber's."
"Thou art not saved," stated the big black-haired guard, frowning down at my naked back. He looked vaguely familiar.
"I'm a mystic," I said ingratiatingly. "I love you people too."
"What is thy name?"
"Joe Fletcher."
"Behold!" exclaimed the guard. My name seemed to mean something to him. "It's the prophet's herdsman who hath fed the kine. Welcome, Joseph Fletcher!"
"WELCOME, JOSEPH FLETCHER!" roared the crowd behind me.
I couldn't resist turning to bow and wave. And then the guards let me in.
"Dr. F.," said Antie, hurrying forward, "I'm so glad to see you. I don't know what's gotten into all these people. My Harry's not been himself."
"Where is he?"
"Upstairs in the throne room."
"Throne room?"
"He gets sillier every day."
I followed Antie upstairs. Sure enough, the dining table had some rugs and a chair on top of it. This was Harry's cathedra. To my relief he was pacing around the table instead of sitting on it. He had his shirt off, and he wore a huge brain in the center of his back. Aside from Antie, we were all alone.
"Grab him, Antie, it's for his own good."
"Check, Dr. F."
Before Harry could say anything, Antie had him in a double hammerlock. Moving quickly, I poured a half pint of booze over the the big brain on Harry's spine. Shocked by the poison's contact, the brain drew itself together. I slid my hand under it and pried it loose like I'd done with the policeman's Gary-brain. The heavy alien plopped to the floor.
"Stomp it, Antie."
She did.
16. Blue Gluons
"Wood," groaned Harry. He was leaning on the dining table and shaking his head. "I feel like everything's made of wood. God, and you stomped my poor brain, Antie? Help me, Fletcher, I'm hurting bad."
"You want a drink?" I handed him the canteen. Harry tilted it up and worked his throat for a while.
"Plastic," he sighed, finally lowering the canteen. "At least now everything's plastic."
"How long have you been under Gary's control?"
"Ever since the night we came back. The brains got Sondra and me while we were sleeping. What day is it today?"
"Monday again. It's been a week."
"Time goes fast when you're having fun." Harry twisted his head around, trying to get a look at his back. "Did it leave much of a mark?"
"I'll get a bandage," volunteered Antie. "And some germ cream. Don't worry, Harry dear." She bustled off to the kitchen. "I — I was on TV," said Harry. "Sondra and I were sort of starting a religion."
"Sort of? You've seen the crowds outside, haven't you?"
Harry laughed and shuddered at the same time. "It's perfect, isn't it? It just goes to show that everything I've ever said about religion is true. The sky's the limit when it comes to religious stupidity. Here we have a race of alien invaders, and the evangelical true believers are flocking here to get taken over. And meanwhile —"
"Before you get too snotty, Harry, just remember that you're their leader. Did you like wearing the brain?"
Harry shrugged, finished my canteen, and padded out to the kitchen for more. We passed a bottle of Scotch back and forth while Antie bandaged the raw spot between Harry's shoulders.
"Sure I liked it," said Harry finally. "You've been through it. There's the constant nerve stimulation, and even more important, there's the feeling of working for a larger whole. Normally I never have any real reason for the things I do. Believing in Gary felt good." Harry fell silent for a moment, then went on: "What's the public reaction to all this? Aside from my — followers, I mean."
"I don't know, it's kind of weird. The army's got New Brunswick surrounded, but they don't seem ready to move in. Last week everyone was very excited about the invasion but now — now they're all talking about the food plants. Since the Garybrains aren't doing much of anything, people have sort of lost interest."
"Food plants? You mean those seeds I made for Nancy?"
"That's right. Porkchop bushes and fritter trees. Nancy and I have been handing out the seeds all over the place. That's one wish that really seems to have worked out well. But speaking of wishes, what about Sondra? I saw her flying around naked outside. We should try to get the slug off her back."
"My angel," said Harry in maudlin tones. The booze was hitting him hard. "My poor fallen angel."
"Do you know where she is?"
"She — roosts here with me at night. In my bedroom."
"So Antie and I will get her slug off when she comes back. Or maybe I should get blunzed and make all the Gary-brains disappear at once?"
"I used the rest of the gluons up," muttered Harry. He seemed to be having trouble staying awake. "And it didn't work, did it, Antie?" He pushed off from the counter he'd been leaning against and lurched across the room. "Need to lie down. Look out for Sondra."