Starship Gods Ch. 29-30

Chapter 29: The God Taylor and the Goddess Alexis

"Come quickly!" said Genecia, taking Jefferson by the hand.

Her father Mendecious was in bed, moaning. He was all sweaty, and hot to the touch.

"What happened?" said Jefferson.

"He got sick. It seemed to be a common illness, but then he grew hot!"

Jefferson felt his forehead. Mendecious seemed to be running a high fever. His wife, Silissa, stared at him with fear plainly written in her eyes.

"The healer has seen him, but was unable to help," said Silissa.

"Can you do anything for him?" Genecia asked anxiously.

"I'm not a doctor, not a healer," said Jefferson.

"Please!" said Genecia, grabbing his arm tightly, as she looked into his eyes.

Jefferson took out his first aid kit. All he could offer was a standard antibiotic screening injection. Whether it would work against this particular virus was totally unknown. It was all he had to work with. He removed the hypospray, set the dispersion amount, and pressed it against Mendecious's arm. There was a hiss as it was gas-injected into his body.

"Is that it?" said Genecia.

Jefferson nodded.

"How long will we know if it is working?"

Jefferson paused. Antibiotic treatments had come a long way over the centuries. If it worked....

"His temperature should improve in a few minutes. If it works. But the rest of his recovery will still take some time."

They sat there and watched. Five minutes turned into ten, and ten into twenty. Jefferson was transfixed by the tears welling up in Genecia's eyes. He wanted so much to hug her, to help dampen her pain. Their eyes met, and time seemed to flow around them, unheeded.

And then Silissa broke the spell, when she shouted, "Look!"

Mendecious mumbled, and shook his head. "What's going on?"

Silissa felt his forehead. It felt much cooler. She cried out, hugging him and yelling. A moment later, Genecia did the same.

Jefferson left the family to their reunion, breathing heavily with tension as he left the farmhouse. He hadn't been sure it was going to work. He wasn't a God. He was just pretending.

He heard footsteps behind him. He turned, and was ambushed with a great bear hug.

"You saved my father."

And then she was kissing him, passionately. Her lips felt so good against his. And then she was leading him, with shy glances, to the barn.

Jefferson had been with a woman before, once. The encounter hadn't ended well. She had seemed to be dissatisfied with Jefferson's lack of experience, and had ended their relationship on a sour note.

But if Genecia seemed dissatisfied with Jefferson's inexperience, she didn't show it. She kissed him like there was no tomorrow. She pulled hungrily at his clothing, and didn't resist when he undressed her in between kisses. Their bodies rubbed together, generating sparks that should have set the barn on fire.

Jefferson was hard immediately, and Genecia didn't have patience either. Rolling on top, she inserted him inside of her. The image of her riding on top of him, with her large breasts flopping up and down, was almost more than he could bear. He came within seconds.

But that was all right, because the moment he came, Genecia did too, his moans sending her over the top, causing her to climax instantly. After all, she was making love to her God.

********

"I am told you are the finest jeweler in all of Arcadia," said Alexis. As if she weren't intimidating enough, she filled his small shop with her fearsome guards from the Grasping Hands of Taylor.

Periseaus, the elderly jeweler, smiled as he tried to understand why the Goddess was in his establishment. Behind him, his wife Silmatus held their daughter protectively in her arms.

"Yes, we are known only for quality work, Goddess."

"Good," said Alexis, eyeing his merchandise. Periseaus had some small skill; at least, more skill than the works of the last three shops she had visited. "I have a commission for you."

"You do?"

"I want a crown, fit for a God," said Alexis.

"For the God Taylor?"

"Exactly," said Alexis. "I want it outfitted with diamonds, and gems, and to be made entirely of gold."

"That will be expensive," said Periseaus. "How much can your Lordship pay?"

"Pay?" said Alexis. "Are you asking for payment from the Gods?"

"N-n-n-n-n-n-o, of course not. It's just that I am a poor merchant-"

"A poor merchant with all this opulant merchandise," said Alexis, picking up a gem incrusted necklace. "With all the expensive jewelry I am told you have sold for over 40 years, you call yourself poor?"

"Well, perhaps poor was a wrong choice of words. Mayhaps humble would be more appropriate," said Periseaus.

"I like humble better too," said Alexis, smiling dangerously at him.

"When would the Goddess like this crown to be ready?"

"Within a fortnight."

"A fortnight?"

"And I want you to throw in that ruby necklace, and a set of matching diamond earrings I see over there. So your Goddess will not feel slighted," she said sweetly.

Periseaus sweated heavily. The crown and the loss of such fine jewelry would nearly bankrupt him. He looked at the Goddess, and then the unsmiling men with the pole axes, and then back at his wife and daughter. "It shall be done, Goddess."

"Good. And one more thing," said Alexis. "I want my gift to be a secret. You must tell the God Taylor that this is a gift from you, to show your love for your God."

"My lady?"

"You don't have to understand," said Alexis. "All you need do is obey."

"Yes, Goddess."

********

"Goodnight, God."

"Goodnight, Drusilla."

She hugged him now, every time he went to bed. Taylor tolerated it, even though he enjoyed it a little too much. He missed Alexis. If she were here, Drusilla wouldn't be so bold. But Alexis slept in her own room now, to protect his ears from her snoring.

Taylor got into bed and prepared to extinguish his bedside lantern. As he did so, Drusilla got into bed, lying at the foot of the bed. It was a large bed. There was easily space for her, especially since Alexis was gone.

"What're you doing?"

"Sleeping, my Lord," said Drusilla.

"Don't you have a bed for that?" Taylor asked.

"Yours is much more comfortable," said Drusilla.

"I think yours would be even more appropriate," said Taylor.

"Please my lord. Let me sleep at your foot. What if you need me in the night?"

"I think I can manage," said Taylor.

"Please," said Drusilla.

And he looked into those hazel eyes, and found he couldn't say no.

"You're only here just to sleep," said Taylor.

"Yes Lord."

"You're not going to try anything while I'm asleep?"

"Of course not, Lord."

"All right," said Taylor. He wondered how he would explain this to Alexis, once she found out.

********

"Of course we have slavery," said Taylor. "We've been here six months and we simply haven't noticed it. I believe it took us about two months to discover that everyone routinely destroyed a third of their food supply. Why should I be surprised to learn that it took us six months to learn that people are enslaved here?"

"We do not enslave people, God Taylor," said Najib. "Only Sheep Men. And their Sheep Women."

"Well, unless the Sheep Men and Sheep Women walk around on four feet, I would call them people," said Taylor.

"Not according to the Book of Sparticus," said Najib. "According to Sparticus, nonbelievers are doomed to spend their lives wandering in the Womanless Forest. When Sparticus conquered the Heetinites, who were nonbelievers, he took pity on them. He beheaded all the men. He knew that as nonbelievers, they would never get their 173 women, but having been slaughtered by the Faithful, there was some hope that perhaps they might gain enough virtue from the act to be entitled to two or three of them."

"And the women?"

"Sparticus looked at the women, who were now widowed, and felt passion and pity for them. These women were now all alone. Sparticus realized it would be cruel to deprive them of company and companionship of men. He welcomed them into the brotherhood of the Gods. They became not wives, but close friends of Sparticus and his men, friends with many benefits."

"Another delightful tale from the Great Book of Books," said Taylor, clapping sarcastically. "So you still do that, slaughter the men and make sex slaves of the women?"

"No, Lord," said Najib. "We enslave the men for their labor, and make sex slaves of the women. In that way, we make the most out of both kinds of heretics."

"Exemplary progressive thinking," said Taylor. "Except since I am your God, these slaves rightfully belong to me. Do they not?"

"Yes, Lord," said Najib, reluctantly, seeing immediately where this line of thought was going.

"I wish all of them, the men, and the women, to be kept together, and forced into the cruelest slave labor imaginable. The lands northeast of the city are arable, are they not?"

"Yes, Lord. Those are the Haunted Lands, the place where Sparticus caught a sexual disease from a mermaid which made many ill and die."

"The Haunted Lands. The perfect punishment! I want them all sent there and forced to farm. They are only to keep enough food for their basic needs. I will inform you what is to become of the rest."

Tara looked at Taylor, and their eyes met. They understood each other.

"Yes, Lord, it shall be done," said Najib.

********

"My Lord is just and fair," said Drusilla, as she prepared their bed for sleep. Their bed. How had that happened?

Alexis had also cut down on the frequency of her "visits" to his bedside. He was lucky to get sex once a week now. Was she seeing other men?

"I try to be as fair as I can," said Taylor.

Drusilla put her arms around him. "My lord could have slaughtered the slaves. He could have demanded the women for himself. Instead he cleverly freed them, giving them a chance for life on their own."

Maybe Drusilla was smarter than he gave her credit for. Taylor stared at her breasts, which were practically touching him. He said, "Well... I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"Gods know what is right. Always."

"We may think we do. But we don't."

"Lord?"

"We're just like you. We make mistakes. We have feelings. We have... passions." And then he made the mistake of staring down at her breasts again. Why did she have to wear such revealing clothes?

"Gods should feel free to explore their passions," said Drusilla, smiling at him.

Taylor was sorely tempted. But she was so young. Only 17 years old! He resisted the impulse to ask when her birthday was. What would it matter?

She snuggled into bed with him. Somehow she had migrated from the foot of the bed to Alexis's side of the bed, and she snuggled up against him at night. It felt too good to have another warm body in bed with him to chuck her out. He sighed, and extinguished the lantern.

********

The next day they had an unexpected visitor. A widely respected jeweler named Periseaus.

"I have brought you a gift, sire, worthy of the Gods," said Periseaus.

Taylor, who had never met the man before, took the ornate wooden box from him, and said, "You don't have to give your God a gift." But when he opened the box, he gasped at what he saw.

It was a crown. A beautiful crown, made of gold, inlaid with exotic gems and stones. Taylor took it out and looked at it with terrible fascination. It glittered in the light.

"I can't accept this," said Taylor.

"Please, God. I worked day and night on this for two weeks. It is my tribute to you. It would be the highlight of my life if you would accept it."

Taylor looked uncertain. It was so... gaudy.

The Goddess Alexis leaned over. "I think this could help us, Michael," she whispered.

"How?" Taylor whispered.

"Well, I think we would have more authority if we dressed like Gods. Don't you think?" she said.

"But... it's so.... flashy."

"It's a role, Taylor. If you want to play the role, you have to dress the part. Just try it for a day. I'll bet people will be much more responsive," said Alexis. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "If this crown convinces one more family not to kill their baby, or convinces one more father not to rape his daughter, wouldn't it be worth it?"

Put that way, Alexis was right. It would be a sacrifice, on Taylor's part, but it could very well be worth it. He couldn't put his personal comfort, his modesty, ahead of the lives of others.

He nodded. "I accept your generous gift." And everyone clapped wildly as he put it on his head.

"All hail God Taylor!" said Goddess Alexis.

"God Taylor! God Taylor! God Taylor! God Taylor!" They all shouted.

And as they shouted, Taylor noticed Alexis donning an emerald necklace and diamond earrings. He opened his mouth to ask about it but she silenced him with a kiss. The crowd cheered.

Alexis must have known about his crown in advance, because she had arranged a banquet to celebrate his "crowning" that very night. Most people were ecstatic to see their God wearing such a kingly crown, no matter how uncomfortable it made Taylor.

But not everyone was happy.

"What are you doing?" said Tara, coming behind his chair and whispering in his ear.

"What do you mean?" said Taylor.

"You. The fancy crown. What do you think you're playing at?"

Taylor looked around. No one was in hearing range. "I'm playing a part. This is merely a prop."

"Is it? Or has your Godship gone to your head?" Tara asked.

"We're here to save lives. I just ended slavery," said Taylor. "Isn't that achievement enough for one day?"

"Just don't let it go to your head," she said, purposefully tipping the crown on his head as she left.

Alexis laughed as she readjusted his crown. "Don't mind her. I think you look marvelous."

"Thank you," said Taylor.

"And what do you think of my jewelry?" she asked.

The diamond earrings made her eyes sparkle. And the emerald necklace drew attention to her magnificent bosom... a bosom which until recently Taylor had enjoyed quite frequently.... "Lovely," he said.

She took his hand and smiled slyly at him. "Maybe you'd like to show me more concretely how much you like it?"

The God and Goddess vacated the party. Their absence was noticed, but they returned in less than an hour, looking very happy.

Everyone was happy, that is, except Tara McCallister.

Chapter 30: The God Samuel and the Goddess Pamela

The execution of heretics stopped. So it seemed. There was a platform near the Palace where heretics were beheaded. That platform was now the site of a vegetable market.

"You see, Black God? Your commandments are being obeyed," said the Tollah Metacarpillus. Metacarpillus reminded Samuel of another Tollah, Tarsis. They never saw Tarsis again after the day when Samuel put bore worms on his penis. Taris had been a squinting, hunchback creature, who Samuel instinctively distrusted. Metacarpillus seemed to be cut from the same cloth. He was always giving Samuel sly glances. He also looked at Pam when he thought no one else was looking, but Samuel noticed, and didn't like it.

An old man approached Samuel. His guard force of Iron Fists, lead by Martouf, stiffened, but with one wave of Samuel's hand, the man was allowed to approach unmolested.

"It still happens, Black God," said the old man.

Metacarpillus gave the man a sharp glare.

"What does?" said Samuel.

"The punishment of heretics," said the man. From the state of his clothes, he looked like a beggar.

"You are disturbing our Lord with your wild stories," said Metacarpillus. "Begone from here, old man."

"No, let him speak," said Samuel. "Can you take me to where the heretics are being punished?"

The old man looked fearfully at Metacarpillus.

"Look at me, old man, not him," said Samuel. "Can you take me there?"

The man nodded.

He led them to a nondescript house three blocks away, and pointed.

"Let's see who's home," said Samuel.

He went inside, trailed by Pam, his guards, and Metacarpillus.

The house seemed empty at first, but they heard sounds from a back room. When they stepped in, they found two men chained to a wall, and two other men were whipping them.

"Stop this at once," Samuel thundered. "What are you doing?"

The men dropped their whips and went down to their knees. "Black God. You honor us with your presence."

"You may not feel that way in a minute," said Samuel sternly. "Now tell me why you were whipping these men."

The first man started to answer, but Samuel interrupted him. "Don't talk to the floor, fool. Stand up and talk to me!"

Very reluctantly, the man stood, but he couldn't make eye contact.

"Now, explain who these people you're assaulting are, and what you're doing."

"They are heretics," said the man. "One of them let his copy of the Book of Sparticus fall to the ground."

"Which means he's a heretic?" said Samuel.

"The Great Book should never touch the ground. It is a great offense to the Gods to let such a thing happen."

"Well, I'm a God, and I'm not offended," said Samuel. "And the other man?"

"He spoke against the Gods in a tavern."

"What did he say?"

"He said that the Gods do not make sense to him."

Samuel looked at the second man chained to the wall and made eye contact. The man was clearly terrified. Samuel thought about the child rapes, infanticides, and executions promoted in the name of the Book. How could anyone not be confused by a Book which promoted such things?

"I gave orders that heretics were not to be punished," said Samuel.

"Begging your pardon, Lord, but you said heretics were not to be executed," said Metacarpillus.

"You knew about this?" said Samuel.

"It was ordered by the Tollah Assembly," said Metacarpillus. "It did not seem to contravene the wishes of the Black God, and so...."

"So now you're whipping the heretics. I suppose that's an improvement, after you've been beheading them for so many years," said Samuel. "Well, get ready for some new wishes of the Black God. Heretics are not to be touched."

"But... how will they be punished?"

"Leave punishment to the Gods. We will take care of them."

"You will send them all to the Womanless Forest?" Suddenly, Metacarpillus looked almost gleeful.

"Every last one of them," Samuel assured him. "Even the women."

"The women?"

"Sure. The women, who are heretics. They have to go somewhere when they die, right?" said Samuel. "Say, how does that work? If heretical women are sent to the Womenless Forest after they die, doesn't the Womenless Forest suddenly get some women? Or is each person sent to their own Womanless Forest? Or is there a Manless Forest the women are sent to?"

"It is not really known, Lord," said Metacarpillus, suddenly looking eager to engage in a theological discussion with one of his Gods. "Some say, as you do, that they get sent to a Manless Forest, but it is thought that if more than one woman gets sent to a Manless Forest, that two or more of them may find evil ways to sin against the Gods even further. The opinion of High Tollah Sandros has always been that heretical females are made to service long lines of hundreds of men in the Heavens. High Tollah Petros, on the other hand, believes they are chained naked to the ground, and forever used by a man who can never fully complete the act, but keeps trying, into eternity."

"In other words, they become sex slaves in a very imaginative and unpleasant way," said Samuel. "Boy, you guys are really creative when it comes to thinking up ways to torture girls, aren't you? And what happens to virtuous women, where do they go when they die?"

Metacarpillus paused again. "That too is not clearly known. It is known that virtuous men are rewarded with 173 eager and willing females. Our leading theologicians suggest that virtuous women get to be one of the 173 females."

"So, the best that well behaved women can hope for after they die, is to become a part of a much larger harem."

"I would not put it that way, my Lord," said Metacarpillus. "But... what you say is essentially correct." He gave a small smile. And then he had the gall to look at Pam and smile. Samuel resisted the urge to punch his leering face.

Suddenly another thought occurred to Metacarpillus. "Lord... you are a God. Surely you know the fate of those who die."

Samuel thought quickly. "Sorry, that's not my department," he said. "That's handled by another God."

"What is your... area of specialty, Lord?" Metacarpillus asked.

Samuel looked at the men who had been whipped. "Divine retribution." He turned to stare at the Tollah, until Metacarpillus flinched.

********

There was a full set of servants at the palace. There were cooks, and cleaners, and waiters, and other people whose job functions Samuel didn't fully know or understand. One of those was Vesteria, who was introduced to him as his handmaiden. Samuel wasn't really sure what her function was. Her job seemed to be to help him get dressed in the morning and choose his clothes, help which he didn't really need. She also brought him snacks in the evening. He thought of her as his personal attendant.

One evening, when Pam was talking to the Chef, Vesteria came into his bedroom while Samuel was trying to relax with the Good Book. It wasn't very relaxing. The Book was filled with stories of violence, and senseless battles, and parables that didn't really make sense to him.

Vesteria brought him a tray of snacks. She was wearing a low cut gown. She put the tray down, giving him a full view of her large breasts. "Is there any other way I can be of service, Black God?" she asked.

"No, that's fine, Vesty," said Samuel. The first time he had taken to calling her that, she had tittered and smiled.

Vesteria started to turn to go, but then seemed to change her mind, and then tentatively sat down on the bed next to Samuel. "Are you sure you have no other needs, my Lord?" She asked. Her hands started to roam his legs.

"What are you doing, Vesty?" Samuel asked.

"I am merely fulfilling my function, my Lord," she said. She leaned over, and gave Samuel a big kiss.

Samuel gasped as she pulled back. "This is your function?"

"I am your handmaiden, Lord," she said, boldly letting her hand move over his thighs and between his legs. She gently started to touch his hardness.

Samuel jumped and moved her hand away. "What are you doing?"

Vesteria pulled back, and looked very perturbed. "The Black God is upset." She looked like she might cry.

"No, no, not upset," said Samuel. "It's just... what were you trying to do?"

"I am your handmaiden. This is the function of your handmaiden," said Vesteria. "Am I not attractive to you, Black God?" She put her hands over breasts. "Do you not like these?"

Samuel looked at her breasts. "Oh... I like them very much. But I'm... I'm too old."

"Too old, Lord?" Vesteria looked confused.

"Sure," said Samuel, realizing the implications of what he was saying. "As a god, I'm hundreds of years old. Thousands, actually. I lost count after I turned 1,500. So you see, you being a younger woman and all...."

"But younger women have so much more vitality," said Vesteria, pressing her breasts against him.

Her breasts felt soft. They seemed to melt against his chest. Samuel was at a loss for words. It had been such a long time.

"Samuel!"

They both turned to the doorway, to see Pamela standing there, looking angry and amused.

Vesteria jumped backwards.

"What's going on here?" Pamela demanded.

"Goddess. I was just delivering..."

"I saw what you were delivering," said Pamela. She went and took Samuel's hand possessively. "That's a kind of service only I provide. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Goddess. Of course, Goddess," said Vesteria, bowing as she backed out of the room.

When she was gone, Pamela turned to Samuel and broke up with laughter. "1,500 years old?" she said, when she could talk again.

Samuel smiled at her. "Thank you for saving me," he said.

Pamela reached over and stole a kiss. "You're welcome," she said. "It looks like I got here just in time. Another five minutes, and you'd be whipping out your lame black donkey penis the size of a pencil, right?"

"Get back to your bed, girl! Right now!" said Samuel, trying hard to contain his anger and pleasure.

********

Pam and Samuel were walking on the street of Argolis when a woman came up to them.

"Thank you," said the woman, grabbing Pamela's hands for emphasis. Martouf, with his simple mind, thought to intervene when the woman reached forward, but Pam smiled and said, "It's all right, Martouf."

The woman, who looked to be in her 40's, stared Pam in the eyes. "Thank you. And thank the Black God," she whispered. "My husband is a kind man, but also a fearful one. Fearful of the Gods. For 20 years he whipped me every day to welcome in the morning. Unlike some, who only gave a token lash, my Elmerand gave me solid strokes every day. He feared if he were not hard enough, that the Gods would send him to the Womanless Forest. For 20 years I endured the pain. But now, because of you and the Black God, my pain has been lifted."

Pam saw the woman had tears in her eyes. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she kept saying.

Pam felt a surge of elation. It was great to hear about the results of their efforts to stop the barbaric practices of these people. She and Samuel were on their daily tour. Each day they walked through a different part of Argolis, looking for things that shouldn't be happening. Beatings, whippings, and executions were on the top of the list. So far it seemed that the people were obeying the new rules, but whether that was really true, or whether they were merely being more circumspect was unclear.

"You're welcome," said Pam. "Samuel! You've got to hear this."

Samuel was standing at the corner of the intersection of two streets, just a few feet ahead of her.

"Samuel?" said Pam.

Samuel didn't move.

Pam walked up to him.

Samuel turned around. "Get back. Don't look."

"What?" said Pam. Samuel tried to block her view with his body, but she squirmed past him.

There was a body, lying in the middle of the street. It was an old man. His throat had been cut.

Pam recognized him. It was the man who had told them where the whippings were still being conducted in secret.

Pam gasped, and cried out. Samuel hugged her, and gestured for one of his Iron Fists to take the body away.

********

"So none of you knew anything about this, of course," said Samuel. He was speaking to his Council of Tollahs.

None of them said anything.

"Metacarpillus. You seemed none too pleased when this man tried to talk to me."

Metacarpillus squinted at him. "Did it seem that way? I am sorry, Black God. But I did not harm him. You have to understand, that there are still many wedded to the old ways. It is an offense to the Gods to leave heretics unpunished."

"And it is an offense to this God when I am lied to," said Samuel, staring coldly at him. "And it also offends the Gods when innocent people are killed. Does anyone else have any information about this? Ashraf?"

Ashraf slowly shook his head.

"Esok?"

Esok did the same.

"You all know nothing about it. Nothing at all. That's good. Really good. Because if I find out otherwise, there's going to be some real godlike retribution," said Samuel. Glaring at them, he stomped out of the council chamber.

After the Black God had gone, Esok turned to his fellow Tollahs and said, "Was that wise?"

"He was a heretic," said Serendipius.

"He was not a heretic," Esok corrected him. "He merely informed Black God about the beating of heretics."

"It is all the same thing," said Metacarpillus. "He was obviously sympathetic to them. We cannot tolerate evil in our midst."

"And what if the Black God finds out that one of us was involved?" said Esok.

"Who would tell him?" said Ashraf, giving Esok a hard stare.

"I wouldn't have to. He'd find out on his own. He's a God," said Esok.

"Is he?" Ashraf asked.

********

"Welcome to your first day of class," said Samuel. He stood in an actual classroom, in the Vestry of Tollahs, which was used for religious instruction, which made this class especially appropriate. Seated before him were 30 sullen looking Tollahs who were being schooled by the Black God. Martouf stood by Samuel's side, holding a large quarterstaff, just in case someone needed to be taken to detention.

"Today we're going to teach about tolerance," said Samuel. He had written the word in big letters on an old-fashioned blackboard. "Can anyone tell me what tolerance is?"

No one raised their hands.

"Anyone?" said Samuel. "How about you, Serendipius?"

Serendipius shrugged.

"What about you, Ashraf? Do you know what tolerance means?"

Ashraf sullenly shook his head, giving Samuel a cold look.

Of course, they all knew the meaning of the word. They just wanted to resist him. Samuel could sense that, in their body language, and in their grim expressions. They hadn't been happy when he had fired their High Tollahs. They hadn't been happy when he had curbed the worst barbarisms of the Book of Sparticus. Some were even beginning to doubt whether he was really a God.

"Tolerance means accepting that some people have different points of view," said Samuel. "Tolerance is important, because without it, we'd all be killing each other. I want to introduce the concept of tolerance to you when it comes to views about the Book of Sparticus. I want you to consider the possibility that people can have different views on how the Book is interpreted and what it means."

"That's impermissible!" said a Tollah. "There is only one interpretation!"

"It seems when I arrived here that there were at least two," said Samuel. "You had your two High Tollahs who were commanding mobs to kill each other. What did that get you? Dead bodies in the street. Let's try another way. Let's do a thought experiment. Imagine the man sitting next to your right has a different interpretation of the Book of Sparticus."

Immediately the Tollahs looked to their right suspiciously, and shrank away from the person next to them.

"Just because that person has a different interpretation does not make him a heretic. He could be mistaken. Or perhaps he could even be right, and you are wrong."

"Impossible!" "That is heresy!" they cried.

"Impossible? Heresy? You are all human, and all humans can make mistakes," said Samuel. "I, on the other hand, am a God. I never make mistakes. Do I, Metacarpillus?"

"No, Black God," he said sullenly.

"Do I, Esok?"

"No, Black God," he said.

"So accept that I am right when I say that there can be more than one interpretation of the Book."

"But... but... if there is more than one interpretation, which is right? And who should be killed?" asked another Tollah named Sallas.

"No one should be killed. Take that word out of your vocabulary, ok?" said Samuel. "You're mortals. You can never be sure what is right and what is not. Leave the judgment department to the Gods. If someone's doing something wrong, we'll send them to the Girlless Jungle."

"You mean, the Womanless Forest," said Esok.

"Right," said Samuel. "But we also just created a Girlless Jungle. It's going to be ten times worse than the Womanless Forest. Only for the worst sinners."

The Tollahs looked intimidated.

"So in light of this, you don't have to kill heretics. Leave them to me. Leave them to the Gods. We'll take care of them," said Samuel.

"But... how can we let them walk around, spouting their heresies? It's a bad example for the others," said Metacarpillus.

"And you think bashing their brains in sets a good example, don't you?" said Samuel. "If the words in the Book mean anything, then they will be believed. One man spouting nonsense can't change that."

The Tollahs looked unconvinced.

"Try tolerance. Take it one day at a time. Take baby steps. For now, just stop killing people. That would be a great place to start," said Samuel.

********

Afterwards, some of the Tollahs met for a smoke.

"Tolerance? What kind of unholy idea is that? There's nothing in the Book that talks about tolerance," said Metacarpillus.

"The more I heard Black God talk, the less he sounds like a god," said Ashraf.

"Watch what you're saying," said Esok sharply, looking around at the other Tollahs. "What if someone tells Black God?"

"Let them," said Ashraf, looking unconcerned.

"The Book of Sparticus makes it quite clear that the Gods strike down their enemies," said Sallas. "There is no mention of tolerance. Did Sparticus show tolerance when he cut off the head of 94 Sheep Men at Bershada? Did the Gods show tolerance when they destroyed Arnada in a mighty tidal wave? Did Sparticus show tolerance when he slaughtered the children of the unbelievers of Menos? No. There was no tolerance. This Black God does not speak like a God of the Book of Sparticus."

"He emerged from a fiery chariot," said Esok. "We all saw it. Have you ever seen the likes of such a thing?"

"No," Metacarpillus admitted. "But maybe those are just the kinds of chariots that the Milsh use."

"This is dangerous talk," said Esok.

Ashraf gave Esok a meaningful look.

********

The party had been Pam's idea.

"Why would we want to celebrate the two month anniversary of our arrival?" said Samuel. "It sounds contrived."

"It is contrived," Pam assured him. "We want the people to view your arrival as a happy event. What better way than to hold a celebration?"

"A celebration." Samuel grimaced even at the word.

Pam put her hands on his arms. "It will just be a dinner, in the Palace. That's all."

Samuel paused. "Do I have to talk to anyone?"

She slapped his arm playfully. "Of course you do! That's the whole purpose. To show everyone how approachable their God is, how-"

"Human?" Samuel smiled.

"You know what I mean," said Pam.

"All right," said Samuel. "But you organize it. And I mean everything. I don't want anyone to ask me a single question about food or who to invite or whatever."

"I will handle it with my usual God-like efficiency," said Pam, turning to leave.

"You do that," said Samuel, watching her ass cheeks bounce as she walked with a spring in her step.

The dinner was held in the Throne Room, the biggest room in the Palace. Tables were pushed together to form one, long table. Pam consulted with Esok and others to find the most influential Argolans to invite. Pam liked Esok... for a Tollah. The man was guarded, and didn't seem comfortable around her, but Pam sensed an innate humanity within him, struggling to get out of those Tollah robes. She sensed that he cared, but was trying to hide it mightily.

There were several hundred people invited; Tollahs, their wives, rich merchants, their wives, and other respected members of Argolan society. Pam sensed a strong measure of curiosity; all had heard of the Black God, of course, but few had had a chance to meet with him. During the dinner Samuel sat at the head of the long table, with Pam at his right side. When she saw Esok walking by, she gestured for him to sit down by her.

"Thank you, Goddess, but I am not important enough to sit in the presence of Gods," said Esok. He acted like he didn't want to be seen with them.

"Nonsense," said Pam. "Your Goddess commands it."

Samuel's eyebrows went up. Esok reluctantly took the chair next to Pam.

"How are things on the Tollah Council?" she asked.

"Fine, Goddess," said Esok, giving a forced smile.

"Are people accepting the new ways?" she asked.

Esok picked at his food, aware that Samuel's eyes and ears were on him. "Many are, Goddess," he said.

"But not all?" Pam asked.

"It is a difficult thing, to ask people to live differently than they have lived their entire lives," said Esok.

"Difficult for them? Or for you?" Pam asked.

Esok was saved from having to answer by the arrival of a host of waiters with the main course, which rapidly becoming Samuel's favorite: Roast Beast. Platters of well cooked meat were put before them, and for a time they were all busy eating.

Samuel eyed the crowd. They looked friendly enough, men and their wives dressed in their finest clothes. But just in case, the Iron Fists of Samuel lined either side of the hall, with Martouf standing right behind Samuel, holding a pole axe Samuel had gotten him just for this occasion. The boy was simple, but he had proved loyal. So far.

Food made everyone more relaxed, and after dinner, a psychological dam burst, and everyone rushed up to talk to the Black God. Samuel found himself inundated with well wishers, people who wanted to ask him questions, as well as people who wanted things from him.

They wanted to know about the other Gods; and they wanted to know about the heavens; and they especially had questions about the 173 women which were promised to them in the afterlife.

"Are they... comely, like my wife?" said one man, indicating his wife, who had large breasts.

"For sure," said Samuel, eyeing the crowd even as he answered, always on the lookout for danger.

"But... they are younger, right? Teenage virgins, the Book promises."

"All teenage virgins, sure," said Samuel.

"But will they age, over time, in the Heavens?" The man seemed worried.

Samuel looked at the man for the first time, a pudgy bald man in his 50's. Something about the man irritated him. "Yeah. They age. They age backwards. They get younger and younger."

"Younger and younger?" said the man, looking horrified. "But what happens when-"

"Excuse me," said Samuel, moving to a different group of people.

Another man immediately sought his attention. "Ah, Black God! My name is Mendacious. I was wondering if my wife could talk to you about her charity-"

"Charity?" said Samuel.

"A charity to help orphans. If you could just talk to her for one moment, I would be eternally grateful," said the man.

"All right," said Samuel.

"In private, Black God," said the man. "It is too loud in here to be easily heard."

Mendacious was right. Samuel considered. He looked over at Pam. She was having an avid conversation with a young man. And guards were not far from her. Good.

He nodded, and gestured for Mendacious and his wife to meet him on the balcony. He nodded to two guards who accompanied them. Samuel was taking no chances.

Mendacious's wife was much younger than him. Her name was Celestra.

"Black God, it is such a pleasure to meet you," she said. She was an attractive brunette. "I am such a great admirer of yours."

"Thank you," said Samuel, watching as she put her hands in his.

"Such a great admirer," Celestra repeated, her eyes shining. "Tell me, Your Blackness, Have you ever given any thought to an heir?"

"No," said Samuel. What did this have to do with an orphanage?

"I would be delighted to be host to your heir," said Celestra. "I have born three children, and all have grown up tall and strong."

"You want to have my baby?" said Samuel, realizing now that he had been brought here under false pretenses.

"Yes!" Celestra smiled, as if he had already agreed to it. "It will be your heir. And I am sure it will be so very black. No one could deny that a child so black could be the offspring of a God!"

Samuel turned to Mendacious, who was just standing there, watching him. "And you're all right with this? My porking your misses?"

"Of course, Black God," said Mendacious. "It would be an honor."

"Perhaps you'd like to watch while I do it," said Samuel. "It might be instructive."

"I would be honored," said Mendacious again.

"You could even participate," said Samuel.

"Participate?"

"Yes, you could take my dick and put it into your wife, when the time comes," said Samuel.

"My Lord-"

"Of course, first we'd have to cut off your dick, for being such a cuckold," said Samuel, and he allowed his anger to surface. "What the FUCK is wrong with you people?"

Celestra started to tremble. Mendacious got on his knees. "My Lord, if we have offended you, we are sorry!"

"Offended me?" said Samuel.

"If Celestra is not to your liking, I have 16 year old daughter who would be-"

"Get out!" Samuel yelled, pointing to the exit. "I want you out of here in the next 30 seconds, or else I'm going to kick you so hard that you're going to land in the Womanless Forest with my bootprint tattooed on your ass. Do you dig it?"

"Black God!" said Mendacious, getting to his feet and running away, his wife a few seconds behind.

"What was that all about?" said Pam, coming onto the balcony. A breeze caused her hair to ruffle in the wind.

"That asshole wanted me to pork his wife. He was even willing to have me do it in front of him! What's wrong with these asshats?"

"You're a God," said Pam, putting her hands over his. "They all want a piece of you."

"Funny how the people who want the biggest pieces are always the young white girls," said Samuel, looking at her accusingly.

"True," said Pam, smiling as she rubbed his hands. "You know, I was talking to a young man inside who wanted to know what it was like being with the Black God." She waggled her eyebrows. "Sexually, he meant."

"What did you tell him?" Samuel said.

"I said it was the most wonderful thing in the world," said Pam, looking longingly into his eyes. "I said that once you go black, you never go back."

Samuel chuckled, and laughed, and Pam reached over and gave him a kiss. He held her, and it lasted for a while.

********

Samuel and Pam were on tour, this time of a real orphanage. They were pleased and disturbed to learn that people were giving up their third children. Pleased, because they were no longer killing them, but disturbed, because parents were still too superstitious to keep them for their own.

As Pam roamed around the play area in back, a woman came up to her. "Would you like to see the area where the children sleep?"

Pam said yes. She was a little surprised when the woman led her to a home across the street, which she didn't think was part of the orphanage.

When they got inside, Pam said, "Where are the children?"

Two men came out of another room. The woman grabbed Pam's arms from behind.

"What's going on here?" said Pam.

"It's time for the Goddess to pleasure her subjects," said one of the men. He drew a knife. "After which, she will be dispatched back to the Heavens."

"No!" said Pam, as the man with the knife slowly came for her. She struggled, but the woman holding her arms was strong. "No!" she screamed again.

"Gag her," the man with the knife ordered. The second man lifted up a piece of cloth and put it into her mouth, tying it behind her head. Pam tried to scream again, but her voice was muffled now.

The man with the knife put it close to her flesh. He smiled at her, showing her his power. Then he proceeded to saw through her blouse. In moments, Pam's titties were exposed. She tried to yell as the man reached out and squeezed one of them.

Then suddenly she felt/heard a thunk! behind her. And suddenly, her arms were free. She stepped back, and drew her blaster. The man who had gagged her was suddenly thrown against the wall.

The man with the knife lunged at her. Pam dodged, but fell over the body of the woman who had been holding her arms. And then big arms grabbed the man with the knife by the head, and twisted. There was a snap! as his head turned sharply.

The man who had gagged her got up, and ran out the doorway.

Suddenly, Pam realized Martouf was there, helping her up. "Thank you. How did you know...?"

"Goddess not there," said Martouf. "Black God says to keep eye on Goddess. Martouf can't keep eye on Goddess when Goddess not there. Martouf went looking for Goddess."

"Thanks," said Pam. She looked down and saw Martouf's pole axe buried in the back of the woman who had held her captive. "We'd better get back to Samuel."

Samuel knew something was wrong when he saw her ripped shirt. "What happened?" he demanded.

Pam told him.

Samuel was bristling with rage. "And one escaped?" He turned to some of his guards. "Find that fucker NOW! I want him alive!" He turned to her, touched her face. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," said Pam. "Just a little shaken up." She found herself trembling. Samuel immediately took her in her arms.

"Martouf!" said Samuel.

"Black God," said Martouf.

"You have saved the Goddess a second time. I owe you my thanks. I am now making you her personal bodyguard. Every time she steps out of the Palace, I want you within ten feet of her. Kill anyone who gets closer than that."

"Anyone, Black God?" the simple giant considered. "Even you?"

"Anyone who tries to harm her," said Samuel.

"Oh," said Martouf. He had to think about that.

"Let's get you back to the Palace," said Samuel, eyeing her ripped shirt.

********

"And of course, you don't know anything about this either," said Samuel, addressing his Council of Tollahs.

"Why would we, Black God?" said Serendipius.

"That's the same question I ask myself," said Samuel.

"Black God, there are over a hundred thousand residents of Argolis," said Metacarpillus. "You cannot hold us responsible for the actions of a crazed few."

"Can't I?" said Samuel. "I want you to use all your influence. All your contacts. Find out who is behind this."

"At once, your Blackness," said Metacarpillus.

Samuel glared at them and then left.

There was silence on the Council of Tollahs for several moments. Then Esok spoke.

"Was it really necessary to go after the Goddess?"

"The Goddess is pursuing Black God's agenda," said Metacarpillus. "It is natural that some would see her as an enemy to be dispatched."

"She's just a girl," said Esok.

"If she's just a girl, as you say, then she no business posing as a Goddess, and should be duly punished," said Sallas.

"I can understand going after Black God. There's a lot of resentment and anger over the things he's done. But the girl is innocent," said Esok.

"You seemed very friendly with the girl at Black God's feast," said Metacarpillus.

"I was walking by. She insisted I sit with her. I had no choice," said Esok.

"So you say."

"So I say," said Esok. "My word used to be good enough for you."

"Used to be," said Ashraf. "You seem to show some sympathy for Black God."

"I am loyal to our way," said Esok. "But the girl needn't be harmed."

"Careful Esok," said Ashraf. "You're liable to make some enemies with talk like that."

Esok got up, lifted his chair, and bashed it against the ground. It shattered into pieces. He picked up one of the legs, and held it over Ashraf. "Are you threatening me, Ashraf?"

Ashraf looked up at Esok, without a concern in the world.

"Because if you are, have the courage to take care of it yourself. Don't send an assassin to my home in the night. If you do, I might not just come after you, but your entire family."

Ashraf simply stared at Esok with cold eyes.

"We shouldn't be fighting each other," said Serendipius. "It's Black God! He's turning us against each other!"

Esok stared at Ashraf, breathing heavily. Then he tossed the chair leg against the wall, where it hit with a clang. He got up and left the room.

"Is Esok going to be a problem?" Sallas asked.

"I hope not," said Metacarpillus.

********

When a poor couple invited Samuel and Pam over to lunch, they learned something else rotten that had been going on in Argolis right underneath their noses. They watched in horror as the couple took a third of the food--beans and rice--and tossed it on the fire.

"Thank you, oh Gods, thank you, thank you, thank you!" the husband and wife chanted.

"What are you doing?" said Samuel, springing up.

"Donating a third of our meal to the Gods," said the man.

"Why? Wait, don't tell me. The Book of Sparticus," said Samuel.

"When Sparticus sat down to a sumptuous meal in Eriador, he realized that the Gods had not yet eaten, and that their bellies must be empty. So he put a third of the food on the fire, to their bellies might be full, and that he might consume a lesser amount with greater righteousness."

"But you're so poor! You don't have enough to eat for yourself!"

"The Gods look after us," said the man. His wife nodded sagely in agreement.

Pam reached over and whispered something to Samuel. He nodded. "Well, you're going to keep sacrificing, but in a different way."

Two hours later, Samuel and Pam were in front of the Council of Tollahs.

"I've been here nearly three months and I keep learning new things," said Samuel. "Today, I learn that you throw out a third of your food. Do you all do this?"

The Tollahs exchanged glances. "We do not throw out food, Black God," said Sallas. "We sacrifice it so the Gods may eat."

"Well, the Gods are standing right here before you," said Samuel. "The Gods have decreed that instead of sacrificing the food, that it shall be turned over to us."

"You Black God?" said Serendipius. "What will you do with it?"

"Me? Nothing. But you are going to redistribute it to the poorest of the poor. Get it?"

The Tollahs muttered to themselves.

"Well?" said Samuel.

"Black God, the food is meant for the Gods," said Metacarpillus.

"To do with as they will. Am I correct?"

"Well?"

"Am I correct, Metafingers?"

Metacarpillus blinked at the unfamiliar name. "Yes, Your Blackness."

"So you will see the food is redistributed as I have ordered?"

"Yes, Your Blackness."

"Now everyone say it, together," said Samuel.

"Yes, Your Blackness," they all said.

"Good," said Samuel, eyeing them all sternly. "Very good."

********

"These motherfuckers remind me of my ex-wives," said Samuel, after they had returned to the Palace.

"Ex-wives? How many have you had?" Pam asked.

"Three," said Samuel. "At first I thought they were more like Ashley."

"Ashley?"

"My first wife. Beautiful lady. We got married in our 20's. We lasted a good seven years."

"What happened?" said Pam, sitting down on his bed, as she did more and more often. Samuel gave her a hard stare, but let it pass. "She was crazy. Would have wild fits of crying. Or rages. Or obsessiveness."

"And you didn't know that before you were married?"

Samuel shook his head. "She hid it well. But more and more it came out. It reminds me of these guys. They're crazy too, just in a different way. Thank God I'm not married to any of them."

"Does an atheist really say 'thank God'?" Pam teased, running a hand over his arm.

"An atheist says whatever the fuck he wants," said Samuel.

"And your second wife?" Pam asked.

"Shanice." And her name brought a smile to Samuel's face. "She married me after I made a name for myself. When I got big on the lecture circuit, being a leading voice on Objective Rationalism and all."

"And what was the problem with her?" Pam asked.

"She married me for my money."

"And you didn't know this before you married her?"

"No. She was all lovey dovey, and then, the minute we get married, she asked me, 'So, how are we going to spend the money?' This was on our honeymoon!"

"No!" said Pam.

"Yes," said Samuel. "I had to explain to her that there was no money. I was a famous academic. I had some savings, yes, but I wasn't the multimillionaire she thought I was. She left me before the end of the honeymoon. It was a brief marriage. A marriage of convenience. Just like us and the Tollahs."

"And your last wife?"

"Michelle. She was like you."

"Like me?" said Pam, touching his hands.

"White," said Samuel, pronouncing the word almost as an accusation as he stared at her. "We were together for three years."

"What happened?"

"She tried to mold me. To change me. To make me into what she wanted me to be," said Samuel, staring at her.

"Don't look at me," said Pam. "I haven't tried to mold you into anything!"

"That's because we're not married," said Samuel.

"Is this why you hate women?" said Pam, playing with his hand. "Because of your bad experiences with all your ex-wives?"

"I don't hate women," said Samuel.

"You could have fooled me," said Pam, rubbing his palms with hers as she stared into his eyes.

"What does a young thing like yourself want with an old man like me?" said Samuel.

"You're brilliant," said Pam. "You're one of the greatest thinkers of the 25th century. It's like talking to a legend."

"Or a God?" said Samuel.

"You know what I mean. You say you believe in Objective Rationalism. Isn't it rational that an intelligent woman who admires your philosophy might be attracted to the man who created it?"

"Not when the man has a 60 year old limp donkey dick-"

"That's no thicker than a pencil, I know," said Pam wearily. She suddenly grinned. "I'll bet I could sharpen your pencil."

Samuel pointed. "Your bed. Now."