Zeus shouted, even more loudly, “Let the charade be over,” and instantly a gigantic flash of divine lightning struck at the gods’ rest home, coming down from a sky literally infinite, that no spaceship could ever find. And, as the lightning struck, sudden tumult began with such a riotous roar that all possible sounds did seem to be sounded, though again, these were inaudible, rising up on the other side of silence that divides worlds.

And, as the lightning hit, the thousands of gargoyles that decorated the gods’ rest home began to move. Laughing stone heads grew fleshy; entwined stone limbs stretched. Angel wings of plaster began to beat. The statues, the wooden carvings of Mohammed’s men, the bust of Zoroaster, and each and every gargoyle above the window casings and around the pillars moved, stirred, and rose to jump, fly, or leap to the garden, so that the building itself dissolved into the forms of all the gods who had formed it. There were future gods and old ones, probable gods, aunt and uncle gods, animal and bird gods, each shining and unique with its own image.

“What an edifice that was!” Christ said, as one by one the gods turned from plaster or wood or stone, edging or turret decoration or whatever, into living forms and dropped down beside him.

“Nectar for everyone,” Zeus shouted; and in vast good humor he added, “Or Christ, do you want wine and fish?”

“Laugh all you want,” Christ said. “You can play Christ next time. I’m sick of roles that include crucifixions. The goddesses will be back in style with humanity soon, and I’m going to be one of those for a change.”

“That’s the trouble. We do have to change with the times,” Mohammed said. He came running lightly up from the back garden, heaving his sword into the grass. “Buddha was always smartest there,” he said. “He was always so ambiguous …”

The divine conversations went on as the gods lounged on the sunny green grass, sipping nectar; and each image was spectacular in proportion. The Virgin Mary’s voice rose, “It’s too bad, though; the Crucifixion story ruined the whole thing as far as I was concerned. Yet the people always insist that the gods be killed in these dramas in one way or another.”

“Come now, it’s all over,” Christ said snappishly. “I admit it got on my nerves too, but if that’s the kind of symbols people need, that’s the kind they get. And besides, they are learning.”

The Virgin Mary turned back into Hera and joined the group just as Pegasus came in for a landing and began to nibble delicately at the grass. Looking up, he said indulgently, “Why such squabbles? There’ll be new gods before long. It’s in the air.”