“It’s no joke,” Christ said irritably. “Mythology is full of such nonsense, and overloaded with divine murders. Humans always want the gods to handle their problems for them and commit their murders for them as well.” He broke off, musing. “That’s why Allah did so nicely. He didn’t hide the facts.”

“Well, never mind,” Zeus chided. “Hadn’t you better snap those two out of whatever spell you’ve thrown them into? They’re really likely to get lost, you know. Besides, it’s time for dinner.”

“I should make that godologist count from a million backwards—a million times. Did you ever hear of such idiocy?” Christ tried to sound humorous, but he was upset. Invasion of divine privacy was involved; Oversoul Seven was right.

“Bring them back in,” Zeus said soothingly.

“They expect me to retaliate,” Christ said stubbornly. “I’m only acting out my role.”

“Give them a break anyway,” Zeus said. “You’re supposed to be merciful too. At least take pity on me; we’ll never eat at this rate.”

“I knew you just wanted your dinner,” Christ said, laughing because Zeus’ good humor was godly in its proportions. (Of course, his ire at times could be equally impressive.) But Zeus didn’t brood as he did, Christ thought. So he said, “Verily.”

Ram-Ram’s and Seven’s consciousnesses were more or less captured by the multidimensional images that glittered in the doubled-in-upon-itself darkness of the sky. Christ called out good-naturedly, “There they are,” reached out a royal hand that magically extended out through galaxies, and brought Seven and Ram-Ram back in. “Like the divine shepherd rescuing two lost sheep,” Christ said.

“More like two poor fish,” Zeus said.

This time Christ smiled indulgently. With one stare of his mind he destroyed Ram-Ram’s case history 9871; with another, he deposited Ram-Ram on the floor of the godologist’s main building; and with another he brought a bewildered Oversoul Seven directly to his golden couch.

Chapter Eighteen

Seven’s Disquieting Interview with Christ, a Multidimensional Happening Turns into an Insane Vision, and Jeffy-boy Becomes a Character in a Book

Oversoul Seven found himself in front of Christ’s golden couch, and he was so confused that he kept changing images faster than even he thought he could, in an effort to settle on one that might placate the glowering Christ whose commanding eyes never left Seven’s face for one divine moment. “He didn’t even blink,” Seven told Cyprus later. Seven felt an apology on the tip of his newly formed tongue: He took the shape of the fourteen-year-old, since he understood that Christ particularly liked children.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Christ demanded. Then, as Seven’s boy-image stabilized: “Oh, you’re a very young soul,” Christ exclaimed in a somewhat mollified voice. “Well, verily,” he added, in a still softer tone.