CHAPTER 25
To assert that the earth
revolves around the sun is as erroneous as to claim that Jesus was not born of
a virgin.
- Cardinal
Bellarmine, 1615,
during the trial of Galileo
If Renoldson had been impressed with his
flight aboard the alien's saucer, he was truly astounded at the flight he was
experiencing now. He was drifting
through air, about twenty feet or so above the darkened desert terrain, suspended
only by the strange antigravity harness that Sarwin had given him. He looked down to see his sneaker-shod feet
dangling below, with nothing between them and the moving ground beneath. He estimated they were traveling at about
twenty miles per hour. They were
following along one of the access roads that Renoldson knew led to the base,
but the darkness and his dusty memory made him unsure how far from the wire
they were.
Despite the spirit-like aspect of
the flight, it was not the most comfortable kind of flying Renoldson had ever
known. Sarwin had done his best to
adjust the harness to the stout human's girth and weight, but the device had
been designed to accommodate a much smaller and lighter body and the straps dug
painfully into Renoldson's fleshy thighs and armpits. Despite the thrill of this once-in-a-lifetime ride, he hoped it
would be over soon.
Also uncomfortable were the goggles
he had to wear in order to see through the shroud field that kept him invisible
to the outside world. They had been
designed for the alien's head and its very large eyes, so they did not sit well
on a human's face. Because he was
wearing the goggles, he was able to see Sarwin through the alien's own shroud
field. Sarwin was about a dozen yards
ahead of his human caboose. Each time
Sarwin turned or changed altitude, Renoldson mirrored the maneuver. The alien had complete control over both
flying harnesses.
"Any idea how much
farther?" asked Renoldson, trying to shift his bulk in the harness to find
a less uncomfortable position. He spoke
into the microphone of a radio-like device that allowed him to converse with
the alien.
Although Sarwin would not reveal to
his human guide any of the technical details of the communicator, he had
assured Renoldson that the humans would not be able to detect the
transmissions. Renoldson knew that the
intrusion detection systems of the Groom Lake facility were the best that human
knowledge could provide and if anyone else had told him that, he wouldn't have
believed them. But the alien was
constantly astounding Renoldson with what its technology could do, so he had
grown to trust Sarwin's assurances.
"I think we will be coming to
the fence in one or two of your minutes," answered the leading alien.
That's one or two of my
minutes too long, thought Renoldson, as he joggled his leg in an
attempt to shake off the pins and needles sensation that was creeping up the
limb. He was about to try shifting his
weight again, when a pair of bright vehicle lights suddenly flashed into view
over a rise in the road ahead.
Renoldson froze in the glare of the headlights as dutifully as a
dumbfounded deer. He overcame the shock
and was about to call Sarwin when the military jeep flashed by underneath them,
the soldiers within continuing their patrol, oblivious to the floating odd
couple that passed, ghost-like, over them.
"Jesus Christ, that scared the
hell out of me," Renoldson muttered to himself, as his heart rate bumped
up after the fact.
"My name is Sarwin," came
the alien's artificial voice through Renoldson's earpiece, "To whom do you
speak?"
"Huh? Oh... not to you, sorry.
That was my Savior's name I invoked," stammered the human, "In
vain, I fear."
"Your savior? What has she saved you from?"
"Well, first of all, Jesus is a
He," replied Renoldson, "and He has saved me from sin." Talking about this made him feel a little
more calm as the shock of the passing jeep faded to a mere memory.
"Ah, yes... Sin...
You mentioned that before. So
this Jesus prevents you from offending your god?"
"Well, it's a little more
complex than that," corrected Renoldson, "He doesn't exactly prevent me from
committing any sin, He just tries to guide me away from it and forgives me when
I do sin."
"I thought you said it was your
god's place to forgive sin? This Jesus
can also?"
"Yes, of course," answered
the preacher, "Jesus is the Son of God."
"Ah, I understand. A divine dynasty. There are some minor churches on my world that believe in
multiple gods, but they are outlawed by the T'Chen temple and practice their
beliefs in secret."
"No, no..." replied
Renoldson, quickly, "This isn't polytheism. God and Jesus are one and the same."
"I do not understand. Did you not just tell me that Jesus is the
son of your god?"
"Yes, he is," answered Renoldson,
"but they are also the same. Along
with the Holy Spirit. We call it the
trinity, because all three are separate, yet the same."
"Holy spirit? I understand even less now..."
Renoldson let out a short
laugh. This was often difficult enough
to explain to his fellow humans!
Explaining it to an alien with few, if any, common references was going
to be impossible.
"It's.... complex," muttered Renoldson, as he
tried to think of a way to explain it.
"Yes, I see," replied
Sarwin, "I never had much belief in the tenets of my own religion, but at
least I understood it."
"Do you have children,
Sarwin?" asked Renoldson, remembering an old Sunday school lesson.
"I have six."
"Well then, you are a
father," explained the preacher, "and no doubt you, yourself, have a
father, and therefore you are also a son.
You are father and son, even though you are a single person. Do you see?"
"I do not. You said Jesus was the Son of God. Then you say Jesus and god are the
same. That is no different than saying
that one of my children and I are same person, which cannot be true."
Renoldson was not sure what to
say. The Sunday school children had
always accepted that analogy without question!
"Perhaps this is another
problem with my translator," suggested the alien, "I apologize again
for its shortcomings."
Renoldson weighted whether to try a
different explanation, or just let the translator take the rap for Sarwin's
confusion. To keep his mind off the
pain of the straps that dug ever deeper into his skin, he decided to keep
talking.
"Well, you see, we mortal human
beings cannot possibly comprehend the majestic form of God, so most of us
accept this as something we cannot understand.
Not while still on Earth, anyway.
Like a bacterium staring up a microscope at a human, we cannot possibly
comprehend what is looking back down at us."
"Then how can you possible know
about these three aspects of your god?" asked the alien.
"Well, I guess it's because we
humans have a tendency to ascribe descriptions to things we cannot fully
understand. Although we cannot really
know the form of God, we give Him some...
I don't know... parameters... so
we can comprehend him."
"So you are saying this view of
your god is entirely fabricated by your people?"
"No, no, no... I'm not saying that. The bible clearly states...," Renoldson stopped himself. He always hated it when others preached
blindly from the Bible. He wasn't about
to do the same. "Look, this whole
argument is pointless. It doesn't
matter what God looks like, or what form He takes, whether He's one part, or
three, or seventeen. What matters is
that He's there; listening... watching...
caring."
"How do you know he is there,
if you cannot see him or hear him?" asked Sarwin.
"Oh, I can see and hear Him,"
replied the human, "but not with my eyes.
With my heart. I can feel His
presence."
"Again, you remind me of my
wife," said the alien, "When I ask her why she believes in T'Chen,
she says she cannot readily explain.
‘It is a feeling,’ she says. ‘An
emotion.’ And she cannot adequately
explain it to someone who has never felt it.
'Like trying to explain love to someone who has never known love,' she
says."
"She sounds like a very wise
woman," offered Renoldson.
"And beautiful beyond
words," replied the alien.
"Perhaps it is through her that
God speaks to you, Sarwin," suggested the human, "You never know
where He'll turn up in life. Often
where you least expect it."
"If T'Chen has something to say
to me, I would rather she said it directly to me," replied the alien.
"Maybe you just need to listen
more," continued the human, "If you purposely close your ears to
God's voice, you will never hear it."
"My ears work very well," retorted
the alien, "yet I hear nothing that I cannot also see and touch."
"Then listen with your heart,
my friend," suggested Renoldson, "God does not speak through
vibrations of the air. He speaks
through vibrations of the soul. Tell
me, why are you so opposed to even the possibility that there might be a
God?"
"Do all humans believe in this
god of yours?" asked Sarwin.
"Umm, well... no,"
admitted Renoldson, "But most humans believe in some god or gods. Or some form of spirituality, at
least."
"But you do not worship these
other gods, only your own, yes?"
"Yes, I have chosen the
spiritual path that I personally believe is most correct. But I don't condemn others who have chosen a
different road to spirituality, if that's what you're getting at,"
answered Renoldson, a little defensively.
"No, no... That is not my point," replied the alien, "My point is
that our spiritual beliefs are not as dissimilar as you believe."
"They're not?" asked Renoldson,
confused. "But I get the
impression that you're an atheist. That
you believe in no god."
"Correct, I do not."
"But I do believe in
God! Now you're not making
sense. How can our spiritual beliefs be
similar? That is about as far apart as
you can get."
"You believe in a god, by
your own admission," replied Sarwin, "but not the many other gods you
know of. I am not really
different. I merely believe in one less
god than you believe in. Ask yourself
why you do not believe in those other gods.
When you know the answer, you will then know why I do not believe in
yours."
Renoldson was deciding how to
respond when he noticed something up ahead that they were fast
approaching. It was one of the gates
leading onto the grounds of the airbase.
As they drew closer he could see the machine gun toting guards that
manned it. He hoped these shroud fields
would do their job and keep them invisible to the sentries.
"We have arrived,"
announced the alien, "When we are inside, you will direct me to where you
saw my wife and her spacecraft, yes?"
"Yes, I will," whispered
Renoldson, as they approached the fence, about two dozen yards to the left of
the gate. He could hear the guards
talking amongst themselves, but he was too distant to make out their
words. At least they did not seem to be
in any alarm. So far, so good.
"Siverelle."
"What?" asked Renoldson.
"Earlier, you had asked my
wife's name so that you could pray to your god for the her safety and
well-being," continued the alien, "Her name is Siverelle."
"So I did," replied
Renoldson, with a smile.
"You may wish to pray to all
three," suggested Sarwin, as they floated silently over the barbwire
crowned, electrified fence, "We will need all the help we can get."