The Star Virus

"I can arrange that." The scientist tapped his camera. "This apparatus isn't only a receptor. It can emit. Leave it to me, I'll beam the cephalogrator with the right brain waves while you're taking the oath."

"You're certainly full of surprises!" Rodrone could not help but laugh. "But no thanks, it's not my kind of scene. I'll tell you something else, too. For a generation these people have indoctrinated themselves with Streall values and debased human values. Don't you see what that means? The strain is too much for anyone. The human mind can't accommodate its own rejection of itself. No wonder they're all kinky."

He stared steadily at Sinnt. "You're the lucky one: you got away. As for the others, by now they're all mad. They've got to be."

Suddenly he became aware of Foyle, sitting quietly in the corner. The boy was always quiet and attentive, and in a way he had grown quite fond of him. It was sad to think of the future that lay ahead for him.

"Quite mad," he muttered, and turned away.

There seemed to be a lot of activity in the temple that afternoon. Hurrying feet paced up and down the passage outside the door. Using his X-ray vision to maximum effect, Sinnt announced that work was going on connected with the lens.

"They don't understand it properly," he said glumly. "They think it's some kind of oracle, or totem. I think they're getting ready for ceremonial worship."

"Isn't an oracle what Seffatt called it? Maybe it can foretell the future after all."

"Maybe. Seffatt doesn't choose his words carefully. 'Oracle' coming from him could mean almost anything."

In the evening the door to their room opened. The leader stood there, accompanied by three others.

"You are privileged to join us this evening. The Master has revealed much. Tonight we will taste the delights of galactic experience!"

Doubtfully Rodrone allowed himself to be led back to the Streall shrine. The room was filled with about thirty people, both men and women, seated cross-legged on cushions. The women wore the same costume as the men: carefully tailored jacket and trousers, and curly-brimmed hat. They all seemed excited, expectant.

The lens occupied pride of place before the plush red curtain. Everything else had been cleared away and replaced by a spread-out machine arranged on either side of the lens and sporting two big curved horns whose open ends yawned towards the audience. Lying between them, the lens's endless picturama flickered colorfully.

Ceremonially the leader faced the assembly. "It is an operator-controlled universe," he proclaimed. "We in the Society of the Orderly Plan are pledged to the vision of galactic harmony." On the wall to his left, a ten-foot screen sprang to life, displaying a fluid succession of diagrams which meant nothing to Rodrone. "Inexorably the cosmic process proceeds towards destiny, the fulfillment of the Grand Design."

The lisping voice stopped and they all gazed attentively as the screen rendered up its finale, a beautifully colored set of pictures which faded slowly one into the other. These were the major arcana of the society's symbolic doctrine, each image bearing its appropriate title: The Galactic Arch; The Traveling Wave; The Circling Walls, The Dazzling Hyper-Cube…

And so on. There was certainly a fascination in them, and several seconds pause followed the return of blankness to the screen.

The leader coughed. "Tonight is a special night in the life of the society. You all know of the Streall artifact that has fallen into our hands. It is an artifact of special importance, no less than an embodied revelation of the galactic plan! It surely can be no diseased event"—Rodrone noted with interest the use of this term—"that had brought it to us, but a true note in the unfolding of the galactic symphony. Perhaps this glad occasion is a sign to us that the discoloration that lately has been spreading over the glorious cosmic radiance, and of which we are a part, will shortly be at an end, and we and all human beings can at last cast off our misery, purging our criminal being in the eternity of non-being.

"But for the moment, let us pass on the unique experience that currently awaits us. With the help of the scientific techniques long ago taught to us by the Master, we are able to project what the artifact is revealing directly into our consciousnesses. Thus we shall be in direct contact with the basic order of existence!" He raised his hand to subdue the rising murmurs of anticipation. "First, a few words from the Master."

Turning, he picked up a jeweled striker, then hesitated and added in a low tone, "The Master is, er, a little indisposed today."

He struck a small golden gong, sending a musical tone singing through the room. "Master, we are ready, if it pleases you to speak."

From behind the curtain, hoarse breathing. Then an inhuman, prolonged coughing, through which the gobbling voice eventually struggled in an exhausted, agonizing whisper.