“I'm not sure,” John answered.

“I mean that at noon tomorrow, if anyone is still in that camp of yours, we're going to vaporize the entire place. We don't want to do that-particularly because we know perfectly well that you could easily put together a new group, that you have agents scattered all through the protectorate. We would much rather settle this all peacefully. Is that clear enough?"

After a long silence, John admitted, “It's clear-but how do you figure on settling it peacefully?"

“By giving you what you want, so that you don't have to fight for it-if we can. What is it that you and your men want?"

John stared at her for a long moment, wondering if she could really need to ask. “We want Godsworld back the way it was, with no trace of you people left to pollute it,” he answered finally.

“Well, we can't do that. I think I've finished my explanation; it's time for some questions and answers. Why do you want us off Godsworld?"

“Because you're destroying it."

“We aren't destroying anything! I told you, we aren't allowed to."

“But you are destroying it! I don't mean the people or the houses-I don't care about those. You're destroying our way of life! You've brought in weapons that make wars too dangerous to fight, and all these cushions and colors everywhere make life too soft to live!” He got to his feet, unable to contain himself, and leaned forward across the desk. “You're decadent and corrupt yourselves, like all of Earth, and you're making Godsworld decadent and corrupt, too."

“Decadent? Soft? Because we've introduced a few little improvements?” She rose, too, and John was startled to realize that she was taller than he was. “The most luxurious life ever lived on Godsworld would be abject poverty to your ancestors back on Earth! Decadence isn't a physical thing-a few pillows and hangings aren't going to turn people decadent. It's a way of thinking-a spiritual thing, in your terms. If Godsworlders are decadent now, then they always were-they just didn't have a chance to show it before. We're not forcing these things on anybody, we're selling them; if they're evil, as you say, then the righteous should resist the temptation. I've read the Bible, too, you know-in my own language, not your King James version, but it can't be that different. I've also read Mark Twain, which you haven't-an ancient American philosopher who proved that it's easy, and therefore meaningless, to resist temptation when there isn't any."

“Oh, you can say anything you please-the Devil can quote scripture, they say-but you people are foul and decadent, and we don't want you on Godsworld."

“Why are you so certain that we're foul and decadent?"

“Because I've seen it!” John shouted. “That slut who called herself Tuesday!"

“Tuesday?” Dawes’ eyes widened. “Tuesday Ikeya? You ran into her?"

Taken aback by the Earther's startlement, John said, “I met a pervert who called herself Tuesday, who abused me, yes."

“That idiot! She's just a stockholder, Captain; she doesn't work for us. What did she do? Rape you, and use the empathy spike? That's her usual routine."

Bothered by hearing it said aloud, and by a woman, John had trouble answering. He nodded, once.

“No wonder you think we're decadent! Captain, she isn't one of us-she's not one of the People of Heaven. I should have kept a closer eye on her-I'll check the tapes tomorrow and see if she's done anything else harmful. We're required to let her do what she wants here, but she isn't one of ours, she's a spoiled rotten rich nuisance. She sees the universe and everyone in it as toys to be played with. If you took her for a representative of our people, I can understand that you would be upset, but I promise you she's not."

“Oh?” John was sufficiently recovered from his shocked embarrassment to put his bitterness into words. “Are you trying to tell me she's unique, that other Earthers aren't like that?"

“Not all of us…"

“What about her friend Esau, who had himself painwired?” John demanded. “And who gave her that spike thing in the first place?"

“I didn't say she was unique; she's not. Plenty of Earthers are hedonistic monsters. But not all of us-not the people who work for me. I won't have it. I don't hire rewires or rebuilts or variants, and I insist on specifications on anyone artificial-and I wouldn't use any of them on a planet like Godsworld even if I had them. I respect your culture here, and I don't want to interfere with it-after all, if Godsworld were just like Earth, what sort of a trade could I do?"

John had no idea what the woman was talking about. He simply stared at her across the desktop.

“You don't trust me,” she said. “I suppose there's no reason you should. Still, I mean what I say; Tuesday isn't one of the People of Heaven. I wouldn't allow her kind here if I had any choice."

“And I wouldn't allow any of you here at all,” John replied.

“Ah, but you don't have a choice, any more than I do! We're here to stay; if you drive us away, another group will move in. Once a colony is rediscovered, it's never allowed to slip away again."

“We're not a colony! We've been independent for three hundred years!"

“Is it that long by your calendar? I hadn't checked; for us it's two hundred and something. All right, not a colony, then, but a human settlement. Captain, once Earth finds a market, we never let it go."

“And I'm supposed to just accept that?"

“You have to accept it. It's the simple fact.” She took a breath, then continued, “We aren't getting anywhere yelling at each other like this. I'm ready to make you a good offer for giving up your fight, grant any terms that won't cut seriously into my profits, but I don't know what it is you want. I can't put Godsworld back the way it was, and I wouldn't if I could. I don't think most of your people would want it back. Short of that, what can I offer you? Money? I can give you almost unlimited credit, make you the richest man on Godsworld. Power? I can put you in charge of the entire True Worder territory, if that's what you want. You've told me you think physical comforts are decadent-sinful, I suppose-but I can provide them, if you'd like, more than you've ever imagined.” She looked at him, not pleading, as her words might have led him to expect, but measuring him carefully.

“And what would I do, with this money and power? My life has been dedicated to bringing the true faith to the heathen and the heretic, with fire and sword-do you expect me to sit back and spend the rest of my days in indolence? I have a calling in this world, and I mean to pursue it!"

“Do you? I have no objection if you want to preach your gospel."

“I'm no preacher, woman, I'm a warrior!"

“War,” she said, “is bad for business. It uses up money and kills off our customers. I don't think there will be many more wars on Godsworld-certainly nobody is going to fight any against the protectorate. No one will live long if they try."

“You see? You've destroyed the one true way, cut it down, stopped it from spreading the truth by destroying our army!"

“You think that the People of the True Word and Flesh had the one true religion, and all the others were false?"

“Heretical-the others had part of the truth, but had corrupted it."

“You're so very certain that yours was the true way? Then why did God allow your army to be wiped out so easily?"

That very question had troubled him greatly in the past few weeks. “The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” he said feebly.

“Captain, I've studied your religions here on Godsworld, and the records back on Earth about the expedition that brought your ancestors here-what records there were, anyway. There are two hundred faiths on Godsworld, at least, spread among two hundred tribes, and out of those two hundred not one is actually the same faith those original settlers brought! No one follows the Founders’ religion-not you, not the Chosen, not the Old Churchers, none of you!"