“Do you expect the People of Heaven to try and stop you? Are you putting your headquarters underground for defensive reasons?” John asked.

“No, no, Captain; I told you why we build underground. The People of Heaven certainly know we're here, and will undoubtedly try to prevent us from establishing ourselves on Godsworld; I expect them to cut their prices and aggressively expand their trading."

“Cut prices?” John sat stunned for a moment as vague misgivings that had been mounting since the ship landed suddenly crystallized. Blessing and Kwam? did not notice; Blessing was inquiring what Bechtel-Rand's former employee thought would be the best-selling products on Godsworld.

John was realizing clearly for the first time that ITD and Bechtel-Rand were not immediately going to start shooting at each other. America Dawes and Gamaliel Blessing were merchants, not warriors.

They would not kill each other off.

He had made a mistake, a disastrous and irreversible mistake. ITD and Bechtel-Rand were not going to drive each other off Godsworld. They would split the planet between them.

He might still be able to salvage something from the situation, he told himself. The two were competitors. If he could keep them nibbling away at each other they might yet leave the rest of Godsworld alone.

And at the very least, Godsworlders would now have the choice of two Satanic organizations to surrender to, instead of only one. Somehow, John did not find that thought comforting.

He returned his attention to the meeting, and found that one of Blessing's remote floaters was projecting an incredibly detailed topographic map of Godsworld on a nearby cream-colored bulkhead.

“We're here,” Blessing said, pointing to a spot in the northeast of Isachar. “And Bechtel-Rand's base of operations is here, in the Hills of Judah, far more centrally located. Of course, with the opening contract and development license, they were able to pick any spot on the planet. Now, where would you two suggest we send our first batch of envoys?"

Kwam? shrugged. “That's not my field,” he said.

John looked at the map carefully, trying to match it up with the distorted and crudely-drawn maps he was familiar with. “Would this be the Little New Jordan River, here?” He pointed.

“Yes,” Blessing said after an instant's hesitation, “That's what the ship's records call it."

“Then this must be the marshes; there's a village there that I don't see on here."

“Oh, we can't show every single village on that map! If you like we can have it enlarged until the village does show. Why? What did you have in mind?"

“Oh, I'm just trying to get oriented. I was thinking you might try Little St. Peter. I have three men there loyal to me who might be able to sabotage the defenses."

“Captain, we aren't trying to capture towns from Bechtel-Rand's net quite yet; first we need to establish ourselves. We'll be cutting into their markets soon enough, but for now we need to turn a profit quickly to convince the home office it's worth investing further, and to do that we want previously-untapped markets, where we can set our own prices. Once we have more funds available we can start picking at the edges of Bechtel-Rand's little empire."

“Oh.” That was just good military sense, of course; build a base first, exploit that to support your attack…

But there wouldn't be any attack. ITD was not interested in killing or converting the people of Godsworld, but only in buying and selling. Odd, John thought, how very similar the strategies might be.

“What about the other villages in these hills around us-Isachar, they're called?” Blessing asked.

“Yes, Isachar. Probably not worth bothering with, actually,” John said without thinking. “Too many of them, too small, all independent of each other. It would take years to pick them all up piecemeal. That's why nobody ever conquered them-too much time and trouble for little gain."

“Ah. Small markets, then. We'll send out a few people to see what they have to offer, but I'd prefer something larger for our major campaign. What about this city-state here-doesn't it have something of an empire of its own? And trade, as well?” He pointed to a dot that John realized must represent Spiritus Sancti.

“That's the Realm of the Chosen of the Holy Ghost,” John said. “They're big and rich, all right, with a good location-protected on two sides but open to the western plain-but I don't think you'll be able to trade with them."

“Why not?"

“Because it's ruled by a man called the Anointed of God who doesn't trust Earthers. I tried to get him to invite you here, but he threw me out, and I wound up in Savior's Grace instead."

“Oh.” Blessing looked at the map. “It's too good to pass up, though. We'll have to offer this Anointed of God a deal he can't refuse. Either that, or depose him somehow.” He gazed thoughtfully at the map.

John, too, stared at it. Depose the Anointed? These Earthers might be merchants, not killers, but they had possibilities after all. Blessing was a pervert, by Godsworld standards, corrupting his own flesh with steel, but he had drive and intelligence; he was not wholly decadent, not a simple thrill-seeker like Tuesday Ikeya.

John wondered for a moment whether his rewiring included an empathy spike, but thrust the question aside as irrelevant.

This campaign, he thought, was going to be interesting. “How would you do that?” he asked.

“Oh, there are ways-but let's hope it doesn't come to that. Why doesn't this Anointed person like Terrans? I mean, Earthers?"

John described his last meeting with the Anointed, and told the story of Stephen Christ-is-Risen as he understood it.

Blessing frowned as he listened; when John had finished he thought silently for a moment. “This Stephen Christ-is-Risen,” he asked finally, “do you think Bechtel-Rand really sent him off-planet?"

John floundered for a moment, then looked at Kwam?.

“I think they did,” Kwam? said.

“Then I don't think we need to worry about protests to the CRA if we depose the Anointed,” Blessing said, “though I still hope it won't come to that. We can make anything we do to the Anointed look like what they did to Christ-is-Risen. I like that.” He paused. “It shouldn't be necessary, though. John, you've talked with this person, so I'll be sending you along, but you won't be speaking on our behalf-if anyone asks you're just along as a guide. I know just the person to send to talk to this Anointed.” He smiled, and one of his three floaters did a slow roll in mid-air.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“And the maiden pleased him, and she obtained kindness of him… "-Esther 2:9

The woman let out another little startled yip, and again John glanced sideways at her in disbelief. Even riding astride at a slow walk she was obviously having trouble staying in the saddle. John knew perfectly well that horses were extinct back on Earth-or nearly so, anyway-but he had not realized anyone, even a woman who had never seen a horse before, could have quite so much trouble riding one.

This woman, however, was doing just that. Three times now the entire expedition-John, the woman, and an escort of four of the Free People and two ITD employees-had come to a halt while John adjusted her saddle and boosted her up until she was reasonably steady once more. The stirrups had been shortened almost as far as they would go, the cinch-strap pulled so tight the horse was visibly uncomfortable; fortunately, the beast found for her was so placid it made no protest, but merely walked all the more slowly and gingerly.

John had great difficulty in believing that this tiny, frail, clumsy woman was Premosila Kim, the incredible salesperson that Gamaliel Blessing had been so proud of. She was less than five feet tall-a meter and a half, she said-by far the shortest Earther John had yet encountered, with black curling hair and big dark eyes, but flat-chested and scrawny. She did, he had to admit, have a delightful smile-she had used it on him when they were introduced-but it would take more than a smile to win over the Anointed.