Eros Descending: Book 3 of Tales of the Velvet Comet (21 page)

“Is that why you think I made you leave?” asked Robert unbelievingly.

“What other possible reason could you have?” demanded Simon.

Robert snorted disgustedly. “You're a fool.”

“Mother,” said Christina, suddenly noticing Corinne was still standing before the bedroom door. “Please sit down.”

Corinne sighed and rejoined them. “He's been behaving so
strangely
these last few weeks,” she said.

“That's because he's not a well man,” responded Christina. She turned and looked directly at Simon. “He's
sick
, Simon—sicker than you think.”

“He'll be fine in a few days,” said Simon defensively. “He just needs a little rest.”

She shook her head. “He needs more than rest, Simon. He needs help.” She paused. “You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?”

“He's very tired,” offered Corinne. “Sometimes he behaves oddly when he's been working too hard.”

“Please, Mother!” said Simon irritably. “He's more than tired.”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you,” said Christina.

“I don't know
what
you've been trying to tell me, except that it's all right for Robert to hit me when he feels like it!”

“Forget about Robert, and forget about yourself!” said Christine. “Can't you see what's been happening? He's not well!”

“You keep saying that!” snapped Simon. “All right, he's not well. We'll take him to a doctor and he'll
get
well!”

“I've tried to get him to go to one for the past month,” said Corinne. “But he keeps refusing.”

“We're not going to
ask
him if he wants to go,” said Robert. “We're going to tell him he's
got
to.”

“You're not telling my father anything!” said Simon. “And if he doesn't want to go to a doctor, that's his decision. God will give him the strength to continue his work.”

“He's not capable of making that decision, Simon,” said Robert.

“Who is?” said Simon contemptuously. “You?”

“You utter fool!” cried Christina. “Are you so blind that you still don't understand what I'm trying to tell you?” She turned to Corinne. “You lived day and night with him for thirty-six years. Can't
you
tell that something's terribly wrong?”

“He's been snappish, and he's had trouble sleeping,” she said, “but he's been like that before. You were too young to remember, but once, about twenty-five years ago, he had a bleeding ulcer and didn't tell anyone until —”

“I'm not talking about a bleeding ulcer!” screamed Christina in frustration. “My God, can't either of you see it?”

“See
what
?” said Simon peevishly. “All I see is a man who stopped me from helping my father ward off a violent attack by an alien.”

Christina turned to Robert. “Will you tell him, for God's sake, or do
I
have to?”

“Simon,” said Robert, trying to submerge the antagonism he felt toward his brother-in-law, “I didn't save your father from the Andrican.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you did!”

Robert shook his head. “I had to save the Andrican from your father.”

“That's a lie!” exploded Simon.

“No, Simon. It's the truth.”

“Why would Father attack an Andrican?”

Robert looked briefly at Christina, then turned back to Simon. “Because his body isn't the only part of him that's sick.”

Simon was on his feet instantly, his hands balled into fists. “You take that back! Thomas Gold is as sane as you are!”

“Taking it back won't change the truth of it,” said Robert. “Look at his behavior pattern over the last few weeks. He can't sleep, he's moody, half the time he can't even put a coherent sentence together.”

“He's been edgy, that's all. He's been working, on his sermon.”

“You heard him tonight, Simon,” said Robert. “He didn't put two seconds of work into that sermon.

“He
did!
He spent all week working on it!”

“Was that the kind of sermon he usually produces after he's worked so long and so hard?” asked Robert.

“I'll prove it to you?” shouted Simon. “I'll bring it up on his computer!”

“I don't think that's a very good idea,” said Robert.

“You just don't want to admit you're wrong, and that you've defamed a great man,” said Simon.

“He's ordered us all to leave his computer alone, Simon,” said Christina, a note of desperation in her voice. “I think we should honor his wishes.”

“He won't mind,” said Simon confidently. “Not if it's used to clear his good name.”

“I don't think you should do this, Simon,” said Corinne.

“So you're siding with
them
?”

“I'm siding with your father,” she replied. “Unlike you and your sister, I don't worship him. I just love him, and I don't
want
to know what's in the computer.”

“He'd be touched by your faith in him,” said Simon sardonically. He walked to the office doorway. “I'll be out in a minute or two, and then I expect an apology from each of you. Not to
me
,” he added, “but to
him
.”

He entered the office and the door slid shut behind him.

There was a momentary silence.

“How did it happen?” asked Christina numbly.

“How
could
it happen to a man like that?”

“You speak about him as if he were a saint,” said Corinne gently. “And he's not. He's just a man.”

“Mother, you don't even know what I'm talking about?”

“You're talking about your father,” replied Corinne. “That's all that's important.”

Christina turned her tortured gaze on her husband. “He was up there for only five hours.
Five hours!
Maybe Fiona Bradley's on the right side after all! Maybe it's finally Satan's turn to win!”

Robert put an arm around her, and she buried her face on his shoulder, her body finally convulsed by the sobs that she had been holding back.

“We're going to have to hunt up a doctor who can keep his mouth shut,” said Robert at last. “And I think he'll have to be treated right here in the apartment. I don't think either he or the church can stand the publicity he'll receive if we move him to a clinic.” He paused. “Right now anyone who saw the sermon probably thinks he was just having an off night—and most of them will forget what they saw soon enough. What we've got to do now is control the damage and keep it from spreading.”

“You talk about it as if it were some kind of public relations campaign, instead of a man's soul!” said Christina bitterly.

“He'll live,” responded Robert. “But we can't let one man's problems destroy the church or the cause he's fought for. The fact that Thomas Gold had a human weakness must not be the downfall of everything he's worked for.”

“I know,” said Christina. “It just seems so ... so dispassionate to be discussing it like this.”

Robert sighed. “I'm sorry. But we have to decide upon a course of action. And maybe, because of my work, I've been a little less sheltered than you and Simon. Believe me, I've seen Men and aliens both commit far greater sins than your father will ever commit.”

“I don't care about Men and aliens. I just care about my father.”

“I know,” agreed Robert. “He's a fine and decent man who's spent every day of his life staring temptation in the eye and turning away from it. He just faced one temptation too many. Under other circumstances, he might have reacted in a totally different manner.”

“That's very small comfort, to me or to him,” said Christina bitterly.

“I'm a scientist,” answered Robert apologetically. “I'm better at analyzing problems than finding comforting things to say about them. I feel for your father, I ache and bleed for him just as you do—but I also see that some important decisions have to be made.”

Suddenly Simon reentered the room, his face drawn and pale. He walked, trancelike, to a chair and sat down heavily.

There was a long, tense silence.

“I can't believe it!” he muttered at last.

“I'm sorry, Simon” said Robert sympathetically.

“My own father!” said Simon, his face tortured. “How
could
he?”

“Whatever it is, he couldn't help himself, Simon,” said Corinne.

“You!” he said, turning upon her. “You
knew
something was wrong all along! You
had
to know!”

“Even if I did, what could I have done about it?”

“You could have told me. I might have saved him!”

“Saved him?” asked Robert, puzzled.

“From hell,” said Simon bitterly. “His actions have condemned him to everlasting perdition.”

“Nonsense,” said Robert. “He's not responsible for his actions, Simon. He's mentally incompetent.”

“We are
all
responsible for our actions!” said Simon in agonized tones. “I begged him not to go up to that place. I
begged
him!”

“Don't blame yourself, Simon,” said Corinne. “If anyone's responsible for what's happened to him, it's me.”

“You?” said Simon distractedly.

“I should have been a better wife to him. I should have done more. Obviously I didn't satisfy all his needs.”

“You foolish, empty-headed woman!” snapped Simon. “Do you realize what you're saying?”

“Don't speak to me like that!”

He pointed a trembling finger at her. “Don't you
ever
say that my father
needed
what those creatures offered!”

“Creatures?” asked Corinne. “What creatures?”

“They're not
creatures
, Simon,” said Christina. “They're sentient beings, and you tried to use them for your own purposes, just as the
Velvet Comet
uses them for
its
purposes.”

“You mean the Andricans?” asked Corinne curiously.

“What do you think we've been talking about?” said Christina.

“They're malevolent, evil
things
, and they corrupted the most noble man I've ever known!” raged Simon. “And I'm going to make them pay dearly for it, as God is my witness!”

“Get a grip on yourself, Simon,” interjected Robert.

“We've got some decisions to make. Your father needs psychiatric treatment.”

“It doesn't matter,” said Simon dully.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Robert. “He's sick. He needs professional help.”

“Don't you understand?” grated Simon in tortured tones. “He's going to spend all eternity in hell, and here you are talking about how to treat him for the most insignificant speck of time. His
soul
is lost, and you're worrying about his
mind
!”

“Don't talk rubbish!” snapped Robert. “God isn't going to punish him for being ill.”

“What do you know about it? You call yourself a Jesus Pure, but you eat meat, and you sing, and you see sin and you make no attempt to fight it. You turned your back on your religion to pursue the petty, meaningless truths of agnostic science—so don't you tell me what God will or won't do!”

“Simon, you've had a terrible shock,” said Robert, “but so have all the rest of us. Instead of recriminations, it seems to me that we ought to be thinking about what's best for your father.”

“He's lost already,” said Simon. “We've got to stop this from ever happening to anyone else.”

“Damn it!” exploded Robert. “He's not lost! He's lying on a bed in the next room, and he needs our help!”

“Fool!” snapped Simon. “The church fights an unending battle against the forces of evil, and my father has become a casualty. Don't you understand? He was tempted, and he succumbed! His soul has been made unspeakably unclean; no doctor can put it right again!”

“I hope that if I ever fall from the path of righteousness,” said Robert, “I receive more compassion from those I love than you're showing him.”

Simon's face twisted in agony. “Do you think I don't love him, or that I don't share his pain?” he said, his voice breaking. “He's my
father
! If I could take his pain and his sin as my own, I would. If I could accept his eternal punishment as my own, I'd bear it gladly. But I can't! He can't be redeemed. He can only be avenged!”

Suddenly he froze, his gaze fixed on a point across the room, and they all turned to see Thomas Gold supporting himself against the framework of the bedroom doorway.

“I heard voices shouting,” said Gold wearily. “Is everyone all right?”

Christina quickly went to him.

“Everything's fine, Father,” she said gently. “Let me help you back to bed.”

He shook his head. “I have to talk to Simon.”

Simon stared at him, his expression a mixture of pity and repugnance. “I can't!” he whispered.

Gold reached his hand out, as if he could touch his son across the intervening twenty feet.

“Simon,” he said.

Simon shook his head. “I have to go.”

“Please...” mumbled Gold.

Simon backed away until he reached the front door, then ordered it open.

“I loved you, Father!” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I truly did!”

Then he was gone, and the door slid shut behind him.

“I wanted to talk to him,” Gold said to Christina.

“I wanted to...” His voice trailed off.

“He's upset, Father,” she said soothingly. “He'll be back.”

“Will he?”

“Of course he will,” replied Christina. “You heard him. He loves you. Let me take you back to bed.”

“It's not necessary,” he said. “I'm feeling stronger.”

“Would you like to sit with us, then?” asked Corinne.

He gave her a look of complete indifference and shook his head. “I'll rest later. I have work to do.” He turned supplicatingly to Christina. “Please help me over to my office.”

“Your office?” she repeated, frowning.

He nodded weakly.

“I have to go back to work.”

“No you don't, Father. You're going to take a vacation now. You've been working too hard.”

“My computer,” he mumbled. “I need my computer.”

“Why don't you come in here and join us?” said Robert.

Gold stared wildly at him. “I want my computer,” he said, his voice gathering strength, his expression suddenly that of a cornered animal. “You can't keep me from it!”

“Please, Father...” said Christina, tugging gently at his arm.

He pushed her away and shambled to his office door.