Russian is the most popular language taught in high school and college now."
"I know," Mike said, inhaling the bouquet of the brandy. "Next pull all who have an I.Q. of over 120.
No, you'd better make that 125."
"That'll eliminate a lot of them."
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"Yes. From those remaining, pull all who are unemployed or who have low paying jobs. From the remaining pull those who are in good health and are good-looking physical specimens. From what's left, eliminate those who are too good looking. We don't want pretty girls, handsome men; what we're looking for are sincere, honest, motivated looking types. They don't have to be sincere, honest and motivated but they're going to have to look as though they are."
"Holy Jesus what are you looking for?"
"Students for my missionary school, of course. You'd better get jumping on these things first thing in the morning."
Frank looked at him sourly "What are you going to be doing while I'm dashing around rounding up religious scholars, a seminary, and a bunch of students."
Mike said with considerable aloof dignity. "I'm going to be meditating.-Possibly contemplating my navel, that sort of thing. You never know where this religious kick might lead you."
Mike Edwards got a total turnout of fourteen religious scholars as a result of Jones' efforts.
He and Frank got them seated in the living room of his suite. They were all, of course, mystified. Most of them knew at least several of the others. And some time was spent in greetings. Mike Edwards waited it out.
When they we're through, settled down and quiet, he looked at them, nodded, and said, "It is not necessary that you know my name. First of all, let me thank you, in the name of the President, for your response to his request."
"I thought we were to have a personal interview with President Clark," one of them scowled. "What is the meaning of all this?"
Mike held up a restraining hand. "In a moment, sir. First, let me ask you all a question. Are any of you religious? I am not requesting what creed you might believe in, any at all."
They stared at him.
He held his peace.
Several spoke at once, several in various ways asking what he meant by religion.
Monsignor Fitzgerald, the only one present who wore robes, said coldly, "I am a member of the Society of Jesus, sir. Your question is an insult."
"It's not meant to be. Forgive me," Mike told him, holding up his hands in a request for silence. "Please, will you each indicate whether or not you believe in a Supreme Being and an afterlife?"
Eight hands went up of the fourteen. The remaining six looked at their colleagues in various degrees of amusement.
Mike stood. He said to the eight, "Thank you very much gentlemen. That is all we will require of you. All your expenses will be paid and whatever amount you feel you wish to request as payment for your time.
Possibly you will wish to donate that amount to your church, or favorite charity. That is up to you."
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Monsignor Fitzgerald, Irish-like, was indignant. He sputtered, "Do you mean to tell us that we are not even to be told the reason for our being so cavalierly summoned to this ridiculous meeting?"
"I am afraid so Monsignor," Frank Jones put in gently. "It is a matter of national security. Once again, thank you for coming. The President is thankful and has instructed me to so inform you."
It took another ten minutes to get the eight out. When it was over, Mike Edwards felt like wiping his forehead with his handkerchief, but refrained.
He looked at the six remaining; middleaged or elderly men, professors, writers, retired scholars. All, obviously, fascinated by the mystery of this. And all, evidently either atheists or agnostics.
Mike took a deep breath and said, "Gentlemen, your country needs you."
"I am not a patriot," one said testily.
Mike looked at him. He didn't recall the name, but he could learn their names later. The other was the type who would speak testily. Undoubtedly, he went through life being testy.
Mike said, "You need not be. But we arrive at this next point. If any, or all, of you gentlemen take me up on my proposition, you will be rewarded beyond your dreams of avarice-assuming that scholars such as yourselves have dreams of avarice."
One of them, laughed slightly at that, a wry quality there.
Mike went on. "But it will mean seclusion for a year, two years, possibly even more. The matter is of such importance that you will be allowed no communication with the outside world. You will be quartered, in seclusion, on one of the smaller Hawaiian islands in luxury. I might add, until the duration of the emergency which now faces the country. You will have every facility. Any books, anything, period, that you require to continue your studies, or whatever else you wish to do to pass your time. But you will be completely cut off from the rest of the world." '
"Completely divorced from our families?" one blurted.
Mike shook his head "Not necessarily. You may bring your families to the island, but then, they too will be in complete seclusion for the duration."
Another broke in. "This is a matter of extreme national importance, you say?"
"It involves the survival of our nation as we know it," Frank Jones said.
One of them stood. He was a grim-faced, leathery man in his early sixties. "I want no part of this," he said.
Mike said, "Frank."
Frank escorted the other to the door.
Mike Edwards looked at the remaining five. "Very well, gentlemen. This is your last opportunity to back out. From now on in, you're committed. All bets are down."
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One of them, Mike vaguely remembered his name as Altschuler, said, "Very well. Now what is" your proposition, Mr.-"
"My name isn't of importance," Mike said "You are all in?"
They all nodded.
"All right. The proposition is this. We want to invent, I suppose the best term would be, a new religion."
They looked at him as though he was mad.
Mike took a deep breath. 'There are some ramifications. For one thing, it must make sense. The people to whom it must be appealing, are not Bible-belt Americans from the South. Or bigoted farmers from Iowa. They average high in education. They are, largely, not fools."
"What do you mean, make sense?" one demanded. Mike couldn't remember his name either.
"Exactly that," Mike told him. "We want a new religion, but it cannot have such nonsense in it as, say, a heaven and hell."
The testy one said, "Why do you think the conceptions of heaven and hell are nonsense? I do not say I disagree with you but I'm interested in your reasoning." Mike nodded. "They're nonsense because both are impossible. You can't have perpetual pleasure nor perpetual pain. Both pleasure and pain are contrasts. Suppose, after I have gone to my reward, they throw me into a fire of sulphur and brimstone for all eternity. I admit it might hurt considerably at the beginning, but after the first thousand years or so, I rather doubt that I would be much distressed. The same with the perpetual pleasure of paradise. I doubt if whatever the pleasure consists of would be much fun after the first ten thousand years or so."
Altschuler said, "Those who differ with you would point out that the material you does not go to either heaven or hell, but your immortal soul. It would have differing requirements, a different viewpoint on pleasure and pain."
"More nonsense," Mike said definitely. "I, as an individual, have various attributes. I like to eat. I like to drink good booze. I like to sleep with beautiful women. I like to play poker. I like a good cigar. I dislike physical violence. All these and other things in multitudes make up the identity that is me. Take them away and it is no longer me."
All five were looking at him thoughtfully.
"Very well, what else?" one said.
Mike said, "In the past, most new religions that have come down the pike have been founded by devoted fanatics. And, since they were fanatics, many, if not all, of their teachings were fanatical. Take Mohammed, the Prophet. He believed in efrits and djinn, and worked them into his religion of Islam.