Hicks sat back slowly. "Then I presume you have specific questions."

"I do. What would it take to destroy the Earth? Would it be significantly harder than, say, destroying this place called Europa?"

"Yes," Hicks said. "It would take much more energy to destroy the Earth."

"Would it be done all at once, a cataclysm? Or could it begin in one place, spread out, like a war?"

"I don't really know."

"Could it begin first in the Holy Land?"

"There don't seem to be any bogeys in the Holy Land," Hicks said dryly.

Ormandy acknowledged that with a nod, his frown deepening. "Could there be a way of saying, scientifically, whether aliens can be considered angels?"

"No," Hicks said, smiling at the absurdity. But Ormandy did not see the absurdity.

"Could they be acting on behalf of a higher authority?"

"If they are indeed robots, as they seem to be, then I presume they are acting on the authority of biological beings somewhere. But we can't even be sure of that. Civilizations based on mechanical—"

"What about creatures that have gone beyond biology —creatures of light, eternal beings?"

Hicks shrugged. "Speculation," he said.

Ormandy's childlike face exhibited intense agitation. "I am way out of my depth here, Mr. Hicks. This is not clear-cut. We're certainly not dealing with angels with flaming swords. We're not dealing with anything predicted in apocalyptic literature."

"Not in religious literature," Hicks corrected.

"I don't read science fiction much," Ormandy said pointedly.

"More's the pity."

Ormandy smirked. "And I'm not in the mood to cross knives with you or anybody else. What I'm saying is, I'm not sure I can present this to my people in a way they'll understand. If I tell them it's God's will . . . How can I be sure of that?"

"As you said, there seem to be Godlike forces at work," Hicks offered. Perverse, perverse!

"My people still think in terms of angels and demons, Mr. Hicks. They dearly love halos of light and brilliancies, thrones and powers and dominations. They eat it up. They're like children. And no one can deny there is beauty and power in that kind of theology. But this . . . This is cold and political, deceptive, and I don't feel comfortable attributing such deception to God. If this is a work of Satan, or of Satan's forces, then . . . The President, with my help, I admit, is about to make a tremendous mistake."

"Can you get him to change his mind?" Hicks asked, less eagerly than he might have.

"I doubt it. Remember, he called me, not the other way around. That's why I say I'm out of my depth. I'm not so proud I can't admit that."

"Have you told him your misgivings?"

"No. We haven't met since I . . . became unsure."

"Are you fixed in a theological interpretation?"

"Emotionally, by all that my parents and teachers handed down to me, I must believe that God intervenes in all our affairs."