She had hoped that the People of Heaven would wipe out John's own army, but judging by the pamphlet John concluded that, despite the fearsome appearance of their weaponry, the People of Heaven were pacifists, weaklings, decadent beyond all hope of redemption, with none of the steel of faith in them.

That was the first really encouraging news he had had since the charge into Marshside.

Of course, their weapons were formidable, even if manned by wimps. But believers in defense only, and toleration of atheists!

There was that note that misused weapons would be repossessed by force, though-perhaps the Heaveners themselves were not weaklings, but wished their followers to be weakened, so that there would be no resistance when they exerted real authority. The “defense only” rule might just be to prevent some outlying village from involving the entire protectorate in an unwanted war against a major power, and the toleration edict might not apply in the Citadel itself.

Oh, it was tricky, trying to figure out what these people were up to, what their true nature might be, but John was certain of two things about them:

They were not from Godsworld.

They represented Satanic evil.

The former was clear from their vast alien resources-strange plants, plastics, and all the rest-even without that shining metal tower that could be nothing but a starship.

And the latter was clear from their pamphlet; they were working to undermine and destroy the Christian faith on Godsworld by allowing people of differing beliefs to interact, and forbidding their followers to war against those they knew to be in error. How could a man know the truth, if he did not see its power proven in battle? How could he believe that he had the one saving way, and allow those around him not to follow it?

He could bring this pamphlet back with him, and in itself it might well be sufficient evidence to convince the Elders that the People of Heaven were a greater threat than the Chosen of the Holy Ghost-but having come this far he was determined to venture a little further.

He had been awake most of the night, and would want to be fresh when he scouted out the enemy headquarters; he tossed the pamphlet aside, lay back, and was instantly asleep.

Chapter Seven

“For the lips of a strange woman drop as an honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil:"-Proverbs 5:3

He thought it desirable to keep up the pretense of trade, so when he awoke, an hour or so before noon, rather than head directly for the looming gray fortress at the far end of town he gathered up his bundle of cloth and trudged down to the gateside market. He left Miriam locked in the room at the inn; she was still asleep, and after her behavior the night before he did not trust her in public.

An hour or two of attempting to sell his goods would be sufficient, he judged, and then he could go off to find himself lunch and work his way toward the Heavener headquarters.

He had been in the market perhaps twenty minutes and turned down one insulting offer when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. He paused and looked toward it, but it had vanished.

He watched intently, and a moment later saw it again. This time he was able to place it. “Matthew!” he called.

Several people glanced in his direction; Matthew was a very common name, after all. The one he wanted was among them. He waved.

The man waved back, to John's relief. He had not been mistaken; this was Matthew Crowned-with-Glory, one of his missing scouts. The two of them pushed through the crowds toward each other.

They met in an embrace, slapping each other heartily on the back; John pulled Matthew out of the crowd into a quiet corner.

“What happened?” John asked when they were alone. “Where are the others?"

Matthew's expression shifted from delight to despair with astonishing speed. “Joey's dead,” he replied. “I'm not certain about the others. Didn't any of them report back?"

“Timothy came back, finally-but then he deserted when I tried bringing him back here with me. He'll probably hang for it."

Matthew nodded. “Poor Tim didn't much like the Heaveners."

“What happened to Joey?"

“Oh, it was so stupid! He came out here to find me-I don't know why, not really, as I hadn't been gone that long. He didn't worry about the return fare; I had brought enough money with me, but someone stole it, picked my pocket I think, so that I was stranded here, couldn't afford the fare back to Little St. Peter, and I didn't dare tackle the roads alone, without a map or guide-and I didn't even have the money for a map any more. I've been working odd jobs, doing what I can, to stay alive; I was hoping to save up the fare eventually if nobody came and found me."

“What about Joey?"

“Yes, I know, I was coming to that. Joey came here to see what was keeping me-disobeying my orders, I might add-and didn't think to bring the return fare, so we were both stranded. He reckoned that if we'd been robbed by someone in Citadel, then someone in Citadel owed us that money, and he wasn't picky about who it might be; so he tried to rob someone. He spotted this fellow with a bulge in his pocket that looked like a fat wallet, and a gun that looked like plastic instead of metal, without no moving parts that he could see…"

“I saw a gun like that myself,” John remarked.

“Well, Joey saw that one and figured it for a fake, a toy to make the owner feel like more of a man, and he tried to pick the fellow's pocket."

Already sure he knew the answer, John asked, “What happened?"

“Well, Joey was a good scout, but he wasn't any sort of a pickpocket-that's not something a soldier learns. The fellow felt what was happening and pulled his gun; Joey called his bluff, but it wasn't any sort of a bluff at all. That funny plastic gun blew Joey's head clean off and sprayed bits of it all over the street.” Matthew shook his head. “Dang fool thing to try. I watched the whole thing, but there wasn't much I could do except claim the body and sign the petition for a Christian burial."

John nodded. “Sounds like you did what you could. And you don't know anything about Mark or Barney?"

“Well, not really. Joey told me something, but I can't swear to it."

“What?"

“Joey wasn't always the most truthful of men, sir, and he might have been funning, but he told me that he'd found Barney, and that he came looking for me to tell me that Barney had gone over to the enemy. He'd been so taken with the way they lived in Little St. Peter, with those fancy clothes and cheap guns and all, that he'd deserted and settled down there-Joey had found him by accident, and Barney had tried to talk Joey into staying with him. So Joey left Mark in charge in Little Pete and came looking for me, and you know the rest. Mark was supposed to watch the airship place, but if you didn't see him there I reckon he gave up and moved on."

“I didn't see him."

“Well, then, he's probably dead, deserted, or lost somewhere."

John nodded agreement.

Heathen pacifists they might be, but the Heaveners and their followers were proving dangerous enough-out of a five-man scouting party they had killed one, trapped one, subverted one, driven one to desertion-and the fifth had vanished, and it had all apparently been done without anyone ever suspecting the scouts’ true nature.

“So how long have you been here?” John asked.

“I'm not sure,” Matthew admitted. “What day is today?"

“Monday, April twenty-second,” John replied.

“It's been nearly three weeks, then, sir. I arrived on the second or third, I'm not sure which."

“Have you investigated that headquarters building?"