Ortine sauntered in. He nodded pleasantly, said, "That was quicker than
I'd dared hope. Thanks, Justin--and you too, Deborah Wilkins. You have
reached your decision together?"
Deborah spoke quietly, firmly, said, "Charles is my master. What he
decides, I shall obey."
"Remarkable--this strange emotional fusion," Ortine remarked to the
banker. He sat down, added, "Of all human madness love is the most
difficult to understand."
"You should be used to it by now," Justin told him.
Ortine sighed and said, "Some things one cannot get used to. But come,
Justin, I trust you are going to be reasonable."
"I'm going to ask you a few questions before coming to a definite
decision," said Justin.
"Sane enough," Ortine replied amiably.
Justin began, "On my first visit here I noticed a Roman legionary a few
doors down the corridor."
Ortine nodded. "Right--Marcus Rutilius Catanio. A very well-balanced
young man."
Justin said, "When you first discussed with me the madmen of history
who have succeeded--you'll pardon an apparent digression--it occurred
to me afterward that you failed to mention the Christ."
Ortine made a deprecatory gesture. "My dear fellow, I can never be
certain how deep such spiritual beliefs go in any of you humans. I
thought it more tactful...."
"This Marcus Rutilius What's-his-name," Justin went on. "From what Dr.
Phillips just told me, it is his job to prevent the Christ from going
to Jerusalem."
There was a gasp from Deborah but Ortine ignored the interruption. He
said, "Of course, Justin. It is my intention to remove much of the
world's sense of guilt by preventing your Christ from dying on the
Cross."
"I thought as much," Justin nodded. "I have also considered what such
a removal of guilt, as you call it, would do to our world. It would
not only mean the end of Christianity--it would mean it never had a
beginning. For a Christ without his martyrdom would no longer be a
Christ."
"I had no idea you'd be shocked," said Ortine, puzzled.
"I'm not shocked," replied Justin. "What has me baffled, Ortine, is
your true purpose. You say that the salvation of our world rests upon
elimination of all but those you choose to call sane men--the dull
plodding fellows who never upset applecarts. Are you sure that these
human vegetables are the ones to make a world worth living in?"
"Possibly not," said Ortine, unabashed. "But they will at least make
a world in which people can live. Consider, Justin, you are one of
them--a prime example. Or you were until very recently."
"I'm well aware of that." Justin shot a quick tender glance at Deborah.
He added, "As a matter of fact I'm just beginning to understand what a
living death I've been enduring."
"A pity you've changed," Ortine told him. He sighed.
"Ortine," said Justin, "you say you cannot control humans. Yet I feel
certain that I have recently seen you twice in human guise--once as
Will Molineux in Sam Adams' house, the other as Corinne Forrester in my
own office." He looked at Ortine's cigarette, recalled Corinne's Cuban
cigarettes, added, "You're quite a smoker, aren't you?"
* * * * *
Ortine hesitated, then said, "It's a pity I couldn't put this
experiment into work with a finish date about fifty years before your
time, Justin. Dr. Phillips would have been ideal. Unfortunately I must
use all of the lapsed time of human history or the whole procedure
is worthless--it must be complete and simultaneous. Which is why you
and"--with a polite nod--"Deborah were able to make such a botch of it.
"You're quite right about my appearances, of course," Ortine went on.
"There are a few people, in whom my strain is especially strong, folk I
can actually control to some degree. Naturally I have tried to put such
persons in positions close to my probable subjects."
"How did you happen to take up the role of Satan?" Justin asked him
quietly. Behind him Deborah gasped again and Justin reached out a hand
for her to hold. A faint stirring of her fingers suggested she must be
crossing herself.
Ortine looked distressed. He said, "Really, there was nothing
deliberate about it. It's something that--well, it just happened." He
dropped his cigarette onto the floor, pulled out his case, offered a
smoke to Justin.
"Consider my mission. To perform it successfully it was vital that
I should become intimately acquainted with humanity not merely on
the surface but inside, where fears and motives dwell. How better
could I conduct such a delicate test than by testing people? And how
better test them than by trying the strength of their so-called decent
impulses?"
"You might have something there," said Justin. "But you mention your
strain being strong in some of us. Just how does that fit in with what
you've told me of your mission?"
Ortine actually appeared embarrassed. He said, his eyes not meeting
Justin's, "Of course, you must by this time have surmised that I am
polymorphous...."
"Who's she?" Deborah asked.
It stopped both men. Ortine looked puzzled--Justin was unable to
suppress a chuckle. Seeing hurt overlaying the worry in her eyes, he
said, "It merely means he is a lot of people at once, honey. I didn't
mean to laugh."
"Oh," she said, a trifle vaguely.
Ortine said, "I don't suppose it could happen on another planet in your
entire galaxy--it's rather embarrassing. Having quickly surveyed the
entire course of your history until now I decided to go all the way
back to the beginning."
"You must have found yourself dealing with some rather rough
customers," Justin suggested.
"To a visitor like myself there is little choice between you and the
Neanderthal," replied Ortine.
"I'm not sure the analogy is a happy one," said Justin.
"Perhaps not--but it should give you some idea, Justin." Ortine did not
appear to relish criticism any more than a human. "As a matter of fact
I didn't go back quite that far. The Sumerians were quite early enough
for my purposes.
"In various parts of the world I became a creature analogous to the
woman your Judeo-Christian legend calls Lilith. Since only females
actually spawn in your world it appeared logical to me that they were
the more important. But something was missing. Merely playing goddess
to these alien creatures told me little about them. So, in a dozen
carefully screened and selected human settlements around your world, I
stepped down from my pedestal and became--Eve."
"Good Lord!" said Justin. "You mean that you, an alien...."
"Yes." Ortine's expression was sour. "In at least a half-dozen bodies I
conceived! Furthermore, once it had happened, there was no escaping or
altering those particular bodies until the child was born."
"I don't quite see how it could happen," said Justin.
"Neither did I at first," said Ortine unhappily. "Mind you, I am in my
own universe what could be very roughly compared to a roving social
analyst in yours. And here I was, alone, in this situation.
"It took me some time to find the answer. Ultimately, of course, I
discovered the reason for my disaster. Despite the vast distortion
differences that must occur in any creature or thing that makes a
voyage from sub-space to your space, I discovered that I was--in
polymorphic form, of course--a highly developed member of a highly
developed species corresponding in my universe to yours.
"If I brought a Piltdown woman to Belvoir and induced you to mate
with her--don't shudder, I have no intention of doing so--she would
ultimately conceive. I could not accept this resemblance at first,
any more than you could accept similarity to a Piltdown female. But
there I was, mortally chained to beings on your planet through a most
elementary process."