Eve was looking at some of the crates. “Yeah, and they’ve got enough power packs here to probably use all of them, at least for a kind of last ditch Armageddon.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, then Corby said, “Armageddon might not be a bad term here. Those two have been removing cases one at a time, and I must assume it’s been at least once a day since we decided to land. The next question is, is that because they don’t trust us and they’re preparing a defense just in case? Or is this something far more sinister?”
“The Festival Services!” Eve gasped. “They start tonight!”
Corby nodded. “I think we need some more active security agents down here, and some arms experts as well. So long as my blockers remain in place they’ll think that anybody coming in or out of the lift will be one of the authorized pair and admit them, so I’m not worried about access.” He looked at his watch. “What I am concerned about is that we’re going to be very vulnerable during that service, and it starts in less than seven hours.”
The Doctor was not amused.
“You mean that this was reported hours ago and I’m just now learning about it?” he thundered. “Satan rides with every mission we undertake, and he’s never more effective than when working on and through those I trust the most. We’re going to have a major talk, all of us, and after that a purge, when this is all over with,” he added ominously.
When he was angry like this, there was an inner part of his soul that seemed to come to the fore, particularly in the eyes, and send chills through anyone who was in his presence. This dangerous streak subsided, though, almost as soon as it showed up, as the leader of the True Church Universal switched to pragmatic mode. There were questions to answer, decisions to be made, actions to be taken before recriminations could even be thought of. Still, before turning to what they would do, he said, rather softly, “I want that idiot Cordish relieved of all duties. Put him on swab detail until I can deal with him.”
“Yes, sir,” an aide said crisply, and turned to give the orders to the ship above.
“And, Harry?”
“Sir?” the aide stopped and turned back towards him.
“Give the OD to Martin and put overall security control for the moment in the hands of Cromwell in Tactical Security. I want Sinai on full alert, understand? If they can materialize an arsenal, then they can also materialize combat ships. Remember Hanunka’s Planet? This could be another trap like that. We’ve had a break by the grace of God and some young people who know how to do things right, so I don’t want us caught with our pants down.”
“Yes, sir. Tactical wants to know if the service remains on.”
“Hell’s bells! Of course it remains on! That’s what we’re here for! And I want everybody fully covered, but no weapons in sight, understand? If they think in terms of priests and nuns and kindly missionaries, I want them to keep that image in their minds. I’ll be fine on stage. You just do your jobs in the crowd.”
It was always tough to get these things together and operating smoothly no matter how self-contained they were and how many times before they’d done it, but knowing that some in the crowd might well have been armed and ready to pull something nasty made it all the tougher.
At least unless they made some kind of suicidal charge from the darkness they would be limited to small arms. Dressed as these people were, it wouldn’t be hard to conceal a hand weapon but it would be damned near impossible to hide something big, particularly when the visitors were providing all the goodies and the people had to bring only themselves.
The service began with some jazzy religious songs and upbeat, fast tempo hymns as the people arrived from villages as far as forty kilometers away. Others, they knew, were gathering in big tents near their own villages up to five hundred kilometers from this point to watch everything on big screens. Except for not being able to see the band and preacher live, they had the same good food, treats, Bibles and hymnals as anyone there and, in fact, even those villagers at the Olivet sight had a better view on the giant overhead screens than they did of the far-off stage.
It was clear to the staff that if these people hadn’t seen a religious tent meeting before, they had a very good idea of what one was supposed to be, and so it was as disconcerting to them as it would be to a more technological culture when the Doctor came out and began. No prayers, no shouted “Amens!” none of the usual emotive stuff you’d expect with a revival. The boss just started talking, and that was, as usual, enough, once they had the language and dialect filters down as good as they did here.
There are some people who define the old Greek word charisma, and Doctor Karl Woodward was certainly one of them. The term meant “unmerited favor,” but that never really did it, either. It was just that when Karl Woodward started speaking and you could understand him, you’d sit there and listen to him even if he was reading the technical manual on how to repair a gravity toilet.
“My friends,” he was saying, in that deep, mellow voice that could go straight to your soul, “since I’ve arrived here everyone’s been asking me and my people, ‘What do you want?’ Well, tonight I’m here to tell you, and it won’t be what you expect. What I want is for you to listen to me and consider my words. Take the Bibles, those of you who can read them, and check me out if you think I misspeak. For example, we don’t pray at our services, or have big prayer groups. Our Lord said that people who do that are showing off for other people and that their reward is that other people admire how holy and pious they are. But God doesn’t really hear those prayers, because they aren’t really directed at Him but rather at the audience. So we don’t do that. You want to talk to God, you go into some private place, off by yourself, and you talk to Him. You can pray, you can simply speak, do it any way you want, but do it in private. The Bible says do it in a closet, but we’re not that literal. At any rate, we decided long ago that if you’re going to believe in something, believe it and act on it, don’t use it to show off. Still, we are here to bring you the good news of salvation through grace. We’ll give you the truth, and the reasons why we believe it. We want you to listen. Those whom God wants to hear will do so. The rest of you will drift away. Our job is only to bring it to you. All we want is a few nights to present the case. After that, it’s up to you.”
It was the usual start to what would evolve into a stem-winding one-man performance, but with that sort of beginning it was notable that they were still sitting there, still listening.
Eve, John, and the rest knew that because their eyes weren’t on the Doctor nor were their thoughts on what he said. They had plenty of time to learn at his feet, and to study what he said, because, believing it the truth, it never varied.
Instead, their eyes and thoughts were on the security channel and on looking for anything and anyone out of the ordinary.
Like men with guns.
I wish I knew what those men had taken out of that arsenal, John and many others thought as they studied the crowd. Some of those missiles could kill an awful lot of people and damage even their sophisticated defenses. God might protect His people from harm, but He did a much better job if you were wearing a bullet-proof suit, and He was known to kill hordes of His own chosen people just to make a point. As the Doctor was telling the crowd right at that point, “God didn’t create us to have somebody to serve, He created us to serve Him. If you don’t like that, tough.”