“Which?”

  “Matuchek and Graylock—no, Matuchek and Matuchek—Troubleshooters Extraordinary, Licensed Confounders of the Ungodly.”

  She put down her work and gave me a long look. “What are you getting at, Steve?”

  “You’ll see it on the ball, come news time,” I answered. “We aren’t simply being picketed any more. They’ve moved onto the grounds. They’re blocking every doorway. Our personnel had to leave by skylight, and rocks got thrown at some of them.”

  She was surprised and indignant, but kept the coolness she showed to the world outside this house. “You didn’t call the police?”

  “Sure, we did. I listened in, along with Barney, since Roberts thought a combat veteran might have some useful ideas. We can get police help if we want it. The demonstrators have turned into trespassers; and windows are broken, walls defaced with obscene slogans, that sort of thing. Our legal case is plenty clear. Only the opposition is out for trouble. Trouble for us, as much as possible, but mainly they’re after martyrs. They’ll resist any attempt to disperse them. Just like the fracas in New York last month. A lot of these characters are students too. Imagine the headlines: Police Brutality Against Idealistic Youths. Peaceful Protesters Set On With Clubs and Geas Casters.

  “Remember, this is a gut issue. Nornwell manufactures a lot of police and defense equipment, like witchmark fluorescers and basilisk goggles. We’re under contract to develop more kinds. The police and the armed forces serve the Establishment. The Establishment is evil. Therefore Nornwell must be shut down.”

  “Quod erat demonstrandum about,” she sighed.

  The chief told us that an official move to break up the invasion would mean bloodshed, which might touch off riots at the University, along Merlin Avenue—Lord knows where it could lead. He asked us to stop work for the rest of the week, to see if this affair won’t blow over. We’d probably have to, anyway. Quite a few of our men told their supervisors they’re frankly scared to come back, the way things are.”

  The contained fury sparked in her eyes. “If you knuckle under,” she said, “they’ll proceed to the next on their list.”

  “You know it,” I said. “We all do. But there is that martyrdom effect. There are those Johnny priests ready to deliver yet another sanctimonious sermon about innocent blood equals the blood of the Lamb. There’s a country full of well-intentioned bewildered people who’ll wonder if maybe the Petrine churches aren’t really on the way out, when the society that grew from them has to use violence against members of the Church of Love. Besides, let’s face the fact, darling, violence has never worked against civil disobedience.”

  “Come back and tell me that after the machine guns have talked,” she said.

  “Yeah, sure. But who’d want to preserve a government that resorts to massacre? I’d sooner turn Johnny myself. The upshot is, Nornwell can’t ask the police to clear its property for it.”

  Ginny cocked her head at me. “You don’t look too miserable about this.”

  I laughed. “No. Barney and I brooded over the problem for a while and hatched us quite an egg; I’m actually enjoying myself by now, sort of. Life’s too tame of late. Which is why I asked if you’d like get in on the fun.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. The sooner the better. I’ll give you the details after our young hopeful’s gone to bed.”

  Ginny’s own growing smile faded. “I’m not sure I can get a sitter on notice that short. This is final exam week at the high school.”

  “Well, if you can’t, what about Svartalf?” I suggested. “You won’t be needing a familiar, and he can see to the elementary things, keep guard, dash next door and yowl a neighbor awake if she gets collywobbles—Normally she sleeps fine.”

  Ginny agreed. I could see the eagerness build up in her. Though she’d accepted a housewife’s role for the time being, no race horse really belongs on a plowing team.

  In this fashion did we prepare the way for hell to break loose, literally.

  The night fell moonless, a slight haze dulling the stars. We left soon after, clad alike in black sweaters and slacks, headlights off. Having maintained the witch-sight given us in the army, we made a flight that was safe, if illegal, high over the city’s constellated windows and lamps until our stick swung downward again toward the industrial section. It lay still darker and emptier than was normal at this hour.

  But Nornwell’s grounds shone forth, an uneasy auroral glow in the air. As we neared, the wind that slid past, stroking and whispering to me, bore odors—flesh and sweat, incense and electric acridity of paranatural energies. The hair stood erect along my spine. I was content not to be in wolf-shape to get the full impact of that last.

  The paved area around the main building was packed close to solid with bodies. So was the garden that made our workers’ warm-weather lunches pleasant, nothing remained of it except mud and cigarette stubs. I estimated five hundred persons altogether, blocking any except aerial access. Their mass was not restless, but the movement of individuals created an endless rippling through it, and the talk and foot-shuffle gave those waves a voice.

  Near the sheds, our lot was less crowded. Scattered people there were taking a break from the vigil to fix a snack or flake out in a sleeping bag. They kept a respectful distance from a portable altar at the far end, though from time to time, someone would kneel in its direction.

  I whistled, long and low. “That’s arrived since I left.” Ginny’s arms caught tighter around my waist.

  A Johannine priest was holding service. Altitude or no, we couldn’t mistake his white robe, high-pitched minor-key chanting, spread-eagle stance which he could maintain for hours, the tau crucifix that gleamed tall and gaunt behind the altar, the four talismans—Cup, Wand, Sword, and Disc—upon it. Two acolytes swung censers whence came the smoke that sweetened and, somehow, chilled the air.

  “What’s he up to?” I muttered. I’d never troubled to learn much about the new church. Or the old ones, for that matter. Not that Ginny and I were ignorant of modern scientific discoveries proving the reality of the Divine and things like absolute evil, atonement, and an afterlife. But it seemed to us that so little is known beyond these bare hints, and that God can have so infinitely many partial manifestations to limited human understanding, that we might as well call our-selves Unitarians.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. Her tone was bleak. “I studied what’s public about their rites and doctrines, but that’s just the top part of the iceberg, and it was years ago for me. Anyhow, you’d have to be a communicant—no, a lot more, an initiate, ultimately an adept, before you were told what a given procedure really means.

  I stiffened. “Could he be hexing our side?”

  Whetted by alarm, my vision swept past the uneasy sourceless illumination and across the wider scene. About a score of burly blue policemen were posted around the block. No doubt they were mighty sick of being jeered at. Also, probably most of them belonged to traditional churches. They wouldn’t exactly mind arresting the agent of a creed which said that their own creeds were finished.

  “No,” I replied to myself, “he can’t be, or the cops’d have him in the cooler this minute. Maybe he’s anathematizing us. He could do that under freedom of religion, I suppose. But actually casting a spell, bringing goetic forces in to work harm—”

  Ginny interrupted my thinking aloud. “The trouble is,” she said, “when you deal with these Gnostics, you don’t know where their prayers leave off and their spells begin. Let’s get cracking before something happens. I don’t like the smell of the time-stream tonight.”

  I nodded and steered for the principal building. The Johnny didn’t fret me too much. Chances were he was just holding one of his esoteric masses to encourage the demonstrators. Didn’t the claim go that his church was the church of universal benevolence? That it actually had no need of violence, being above the things of this earth? “The day of the Old Testament, of the Father, was the day of power and fear; the day of the New Testament, of the Son, has been the day of expiation; the day of the Johannine Gospel, of the Holy Spirit, will be the day of love and unveiled mysteries.” No matter now.

  The police were interdicting airborne traffic in the immediate vicinity except for whoever chose to leave it. That was a commonsense move. None but a minority of the mob were Johnnies. To a number of them, the idea of despising and renouncing a sinful material world suggested nothing more than that it was fashionable to wreck that world. The temptation to flit overhead and drop a few Molotov cocktails could get excessive.

  Naturally, Ginny and I might have insisted on our right to come here, with an escort if need be. But that could provoke the explosion we wanted to avoid. Altogether, the best idea was to slip in, unnoticed by friend and foe alike. Our commando-type skills were somewhat rusty, though; the maneuver demanded our full attention.

  We succeeded. Our stick ghosted through a skylight left open, into the garage. To help ventilate the rest of the place, this was actually a well from roof to ground floor. Normally our employees came and went by the doors. Tonight, however, those were barred on two sides—by the bodies of the opposition, and by protective force-fields of our own which it would take an expert wizard to break.

  The Pinkerton technician hadn’t conjured quite fast enough for us. Every first-story window was shattered. Through the holes drifted mumbled talk, background chant. Racking the broom, I murmured in Ginny’s ear—her hair tickled my lips and was fragrant—“You know, I’m glad they did get a priest. During the day, they had folk singers.”

  “Poor darling.” She squeezed my hand. “Watch out for busted glass.” We picked our way in the murk to a hall and upstairs to the R & D section. It was defiantly lighted. But our footfalls rang too loud in its emptiness. It was a relief to enter Barney Sturlason’s office.

  His huge form rose behind the desk. “Virginia!” he rumbled. “What an unexpected pleasure.” Hesitating: “But, uh, the hazard—”

  “Shouldn’t be noticeable, Steve tells me,” she said. “And I gather you could use an extra thaumaturgist.”

  “Sure could.” I saw how his homely features sagged with exhaustion. He’d insisted that I go home and rest. This was for the practical reason that, if things went sour and we found ourselves attacked, I’d have to turn wolf and be the main line of defense until the police could act. But he’d stayed on, helping his few volunteers make ready.

  “Steve’s explained our scheme?” he went on. His decision to accept her offer had been instantaneous. “Well, we need to make sure the most delicate and expensive equipment doesn’t suffer. Quite apart from stuff being ruined, imagine the time and cost of recalibrating every instrument we’ve got, from dowsers to tarots! I think everything’s adequately shielded, but I’d certainly appreciate an independent check by a fresh mind.

  “Okay.” She’d visited sufficiently often to be familiar with the layout. “I expect you two’ll be busy for a while.”

  “Yes, I’m going to give them one last chance out there,” Barney said, “and in case somebody gets overexcited, I’d better have Steve along for a bodyguard.”

  “And I still believe you might as well save your breath,” I snorted.

  “No doubt you’re right, as far as you go,” Barney said, “but don’t forget the legal aspect. I don’t own this place, I only head up a department. We’re acting on our personal initiative after the directors agreed to suspend operations. Jack Roberts’ approval of our plan was strictly sub rosa. Besides, ownership or not, we can no more use spells offensively against trespassers than we could use shotguns. I have to make it perfectly clear before plenty of witnesses that we intend to stay within the law.”

  I shed my outer garments. Underneath was the elastic knit one-piecer that would keep me from arrest for indecent exposure as a human, yet not hamper me as a wolf. The moonflash already hung around my neck like a thick round amulet. Ginny kissed me hard. “Take care of yourself, tiger,” she whispered.

  She had no strong cause to worry. The besiegers were unarmed, except for fists and feet and possibly some smuggled billies or the like—nothing I need fear after Skinturning. Even knives and bullets and fangs could only inflict permanent harm under rare and special conditions, like those which had cost me my tail during the war. Besides, the likelihood of a fight was very small. Why should the opposition set on us? Nonetheless, Ginny’s tone was not completely level, and she watched us go down the hall till we had rounded a corner.

  At that time, Barney said, “Wait a tick,” opened a closet, and extracted a blanket that he hung on his arm. “If you should have to change shape,” he said, “I’ll throw this over you.”

  “Whatever for?” I exclaimed. “That’s not sunlight outside, it’s elflight. It won’t inhibit transformation.”

  “It’s changed character since that priest set up shop. I used a spectroscope to make certain. The glow’s acquired enough ultraviolet—3500 angstroms to be exact—that you’d have trouble. By-product of a guard against any that we might try to use offensively.”

  “But we won’t !”

  “Of course not. It’s pure ostentation on his part. Clever, though. When they saw a shield-field established around them, the fanatics and naive children in the mob leaped to the conclusion that it was necessary; and thus Nornwell gets reconfirmed as the Enemy.” He shook his head. “Believe me, Steve, these demonstrators are being operated like gloves, by some mighty shrewd characters.”

  “You sure the priest himself raised the field?”

  “Yeah. They’re all Magi in that clergy, remember—part of their training—and I wonder what else they learn in those lonesome seminaries. Let’s try talking with him.”

  “Is he in charge?” I wondered. “The Johannine hierarchy does claim that when its members mix in politics, they do it strictly as private citizens.”

  “I know,” Barney said. “And I am the Emperor Norton.”

  “No, really,” I persisted. “These conspiracy theories are too bloody simple to be true. What you’ve got is a, uh, a general movement, something in the air, people, disaffected—”

  But then, walking, we’d reached one of the ornamental glass panels that flanked the main entrance. It was smashed like the windows, but no one had thought to barricade it, and our protective spell forestalled entry. Of course, that did not affect us. We stepped through, onto the landing, right alongside the line of bodies that was supposed to keep us in.

  We couldn’t go farther. The stairs down to ground were packed solid. For a moment we weren’t noticed. Barney tapped one straggle-bearded adolescent on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said from his towering height. “May I?” He plucked a sign out of the unwashed hand, hung the blanket over the placard, and waved his improvised flag of truce aloft. The color was bilious green.

  A kind of gasp like the puff of wind before a storm, went through the crowd. I saw faces and faces and faces next to me, below me, dwindling off into the dusk beyond the flickering elflight. I don’t think it was only my haste and my prejudice that made them look eerily alike.

  You hear a lot about long-haired men and short-haired women, bathless bodies and raggedy clothes. Those were certainly present in force. Likewise I identified the usual graybeard radicals and campus hangers-on, hoodlums, unemployables, vandals, True Believers, and the rest. But there were plenty of clean, well-dressed, terribly earnest boys and girls. There were the merely curious, too, who had somehow suddenly found themselves involved. And everyone was tall, short, or medium, fat, thin, or average, rich, poor, or middleclass, bright, dull, or normal, heterosexual, homosexual, or I know not what, able in some fields, inept in others, interested in some things, bored by others, each with an infinite set of memories, dreams, hopes, terrors, loves—each with a soul.

  No, the sameness appeared first in the signs they carried. I didn’t count how many displayed St. john 13:34 or I John 2:9-11 or another of those passages; how many more carried the texts, or some variation like Love thy neighbor or plain Love: quite a few, anyway, repeating and repeating. Others were less amiable:

  Dematerialize the materialists!

  Weaponmakers, weep!

  Stop giving police devils horns!

  Kill the killers, hate the haters, destroy the destroyers!

  Shut down this shop!

  And so it was as if the faces—worse, the brains behind them—had become nothing but placards with slogans written across.

  The indrawn breath returned as a guttural sigh that edged toward a growl. The nearest males took a step or two in our direction. Barney waved his flag. “Wait!” he called, a thunderous basso overriding any other sound. “Truce! Let’s talk this over! Take your leader to me!”

  “Nothing to talk about, you murderers!” screamed a pimply girl. She swung her sign at me. I glimpsed upon it PEACE AND BROTHERHOOD before I had to get busy protecting my scalp. Someone began a chant that was quickly taken up by more and more: “Down with Diotrephes, down with Diotrephes, down with Diotrephes—”

  Alarm stabbed through me. Those words had hypnotized other crowds into destructive frenzy.

  I took her sign away from the girl, defended my eyes from her fingernails, and reached for my flash. But abruptly everything changed. A bell sounded. A voice cried. Both were low, both somehow penetrated the rising racket.

  “Peace. Hold love in your hearts, children. Be still in the presence of the Holy Spirit.”

  My attacker retreated. The others who hemmed us in withdrew. Individuals started falling on their knees. A moan went through the mob, growing almost orgasmic before it died away into silence. Looking up, I saw the priest approach.

  He traveled with bell in one hand, holding onto the upright of his tau crucifix while standing on its pedestal. Thus Christ nailed to the Cross of Mystery went before him. Nothing strange about that, I thought wildly, except that other churches would call it sacrilegious to give the central sign of their faith yonder shape, put an antigrav spell on it and use it like any broomstick. Yet the spectacle was weirdly impressive. It was like an embodiment of that Something Else on which Gnosticism is focused.