"I baptized her."
Roma grimaced, her nose wrinkling as if she smelled something bad. "How perfectly disgusting. Before or after you fucked her?''
Sam stood in the doorway. He said nothing.
Roma smiled. "You Christians—self-proclaimed—really want it both ways, don't you? You want on the one hand to mouth all those heavenly platitudes, but you still want to fuck whenever the mood grips you. Have you eaten her pussy yet, Sam?"
Sam returned her sardonic smile, sensing she was deliberately baiting him, trying to anger him.
She laughed. "Very good, Sam—I couldn't bait your father, either. Who, by the way, is also Nydia's father. And, of course, the father of Black. Just thought you might like to know that the next time you got an urge to screw."
"We know," Sam said.
"Fucking your half sister, Sam? My, my! What does your God have to say about that?"
"I don't know. I haven't asked Him."
She arched an eyebrow. "Well … how casual you are. That cosmic gnome you worship might take exception at your flip attitude toward sex."
"We'll take our chances."
Then, without explanation, her smile changed to one containing a trace of sadness. "Believe me, darling … we are all about to do that. I see no reason to stand here in the hallway discussing this. Why don't we behave as civilized human beings," she laughed aloud at that, "and adjourn to the den where we can be more comfortable? I assure you, no harm will befall either of you. We do have a great deal to discuss."
"Mac, Howard, Linda, Judy, Lana?" Nydia spoke from her seat on the edge of the bed.
'They are sleeping soundly. Howard on his stomach, I should imagine. I have no doubt but what you will both rush to their sides upon their waking to tell them the dire news."
"Isn't Howard one of you now?" Sam asked, and wondered how he knew that.
"Ah … perhaps. Yes. You are a wise one, aren't you? Of course, he is."
"Then get him out of Mac's room and bunk him somewhere else. Give Mac a chance, at least."
Roma flushed. "You, young man, do not order me about."
Sam slammed the door in her face.
A short pause, a tap on the door. Sam opened the door, Roma's anger was under control, her face no longer nushed. "You're very sure of your power, aren't you, Sam Balon King?"
"As certain as I can be that my God will protect me against those who serve the Beast."
Roma turned her head and spoke in a language that Sam did not recognize. When she again faced him, he asked, "What language was that?"
"Ancient Gallic. I speak all languages known on earth, Sam—and many that have long since vanished."
"Considering how ancient you must be, I should imagine that would come in handy."
Roma howled her approval. "Oh, very good, Sam! Score one point for you. Oh, my, yes. You are a most worthy foe. I have instructed that Howard be moved into a room of his own." She smiled. "For all the good it will do Mac. Are you coming to the den?"
Sam glanced at Nydia. She nodded her head, her face pale. "Yes," Sam said to the witch.
She vanished in front of his eyes, without a trace.
"Unusual activity tonight," the astronomer said to his colleague, his partner in sharing the lonely nights searching the Heavens from their earth-bound observatory in California.
"Oh? What type?"
"I … don't know that I can explain it."
His friend glanced at him. "Twenty-five years in this business and you give me an answer like that? Come on, Ralph: you can do better."
"Quick bursts of light; not connected with anything I know about. Strange. Almost … almost … like messages being sent from deep space."
"You been reading the Bible again, Ralph?" his friend asked, not unkindly, but with a slight sarcastic tone to his voice. It was something his partner had grown used to years before.
"I read the Bible every day, Glenn."
Glenn rose from behind his desk and climbed up the ladder to the huge telescope, actually a series of scopes, each amplifying the other, boosting the power to tremendous dimensions. The agnostic watched the Heavens for a few moments, pausing only to check his computations against those of his friend. They matched perfectly, verifying the location of the supposed sighting.
"Nothing, Ralph. You've been working too hard, that's all.
Ralph said nothing in reply.
"Did you shoot film?"
"You know I did." The reply was softly stated.
"Well … let's develop it."
But Ralph was strangely reluctant to do that, and that only peaked his colleague's curiosity even further. And when questioned, he would only shake his head.
"All right, Ralph." Glenn sat beside his friend. "Come on, give. We've been friends too long for this silent act."
Ralph looked at his friend and coworker for many, many years. Looked at him closely. Unlike Glenn, Ralph was a Christian—or tried to be—and he believed in the big bang theory about as much as he believed a duck could shit gold dust. "There won't be anything on the film," he finally said.
"Why?"
"Because what I saw can't be—won't be—filmed, that's why. So let's change the subject. Get some coffee."
Glenn put out a restraining hand. "I won't kid about your belief in God, Ralph. I can sense this is not the time. And I believe you did see something, and I stress 'something.' It will not go any further than this platform. I give my word. Now what did you see?"
Ralph's eyes appeared deep-sunk in his skull, and his face was pale. He ran nervous fingers through thinning hair. "I … saw the face of God."
Glenn sat quietly for a moment. "All right, Ralph. Is that all? What else? What did He look like?"
"Angry. Concerned. Worried. And … awesome. Oh … did He look awesome. Breathtaking."
'In human form?"
"In a … manner of speaking."
"What was He doing? Just skipping around the sky? And I don't mean that in an ugly way."
"He … was meeting with someone … something. Another being."
"Ralph! Have you lost your mind? Are you serious about this?"
"Yes, I'm serious. He … was … well, it looked like … He had intercepted someone … something. A being, like I said. I've never seen anything like it. Glenn … it was … terrible. It was beautiful, wrathful. I hate to be redundant, but it was awesome."
"Explain awesome."
"I … don't know that I can. The figure was … holding something in one … mighty hand. It … oh, don't think me nuts, Glenn … looked like a sword or big knife. The figure appeared … I don't know. Exalted, I guess."
Glenn had worked with his friend for too many years to think he was pulling his leg, and to not take him seriously. Ralph Fairbanks was a highly respected man in his field, one of the top men in the world, constantly in demand for speaking engagements and classroom lectures.
Something very close to excited fear touched Glenn. He had not experienced it in a long time. "Go on, buddy … tell it all."
Somewhere in the vastness of the huge planetarium, a phone began to ring. It rang several times before someone stilled the jangling.
Ralph sighed. "It … seemed to me that the two … figures were, well, arguing, I guess is the right word. Almost violently. The one more . . . imposing figure, impressive, was pointing upward; the warrior-appearing figure was pointing downward, pointing with that terrible-looking weapon he … it held in his hand."
The blinker on the phone popped on. Glenn finally picked up the telephone. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment, his eyes widening. "No warning; no nothing? Impossible!" He listened for a moment longer. "All in one night? This close together? Good God!" He hung up.
"What?" his friend asked.
"Small volcano in the Malay archipelago just blew its cork. Hell, it's been dormant for centuries."
'No warning?"
"None."
Ralph smiled. "What else?"
"How do you know there was anything else?"
'I know."
"Couple of small monsoons. A tidal wave or two. All without serious damage. No reported injuries or deaths. Earthquake in a couple of places. No major damage. People reporting some sort of … heavenly voices coming out of the sky. Their words; damn sure not mine. Large hail in spots. Tremendous lightning reported around Montreal."