Diggs scowled defensively. “I’m showing Christ here that some people believe that healing is natural. He doesn’t have to be afraid either because … well, these people say there isn’t no evil either. They left bulletins at the center, so I thought we’d see what they had to offer. Nobody’s going to crucify you either, because….” Diggs said this last to John Window, who now believed he was Christ again. And Window stared sorrowfully at Oversoul Seven and said, “Are you Judas? Have you come to betray me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Diggs said under his breath, to Seven. “Now see what you’ve done! Will you get out of here?”

“Hurry. Run to the door and drag Window with you,” Seven cried. “If my deductions are right, George’s car should be passing this place right now.”

Diggs, grunting, pushed the unhappy John Window to the door. Seven threw it open. And George’s car was right out front—in the very spot where Monarch’s door opened in the twenty-fifth century.

Josephine saw the trio at once and told George to stop the car. They all piled in and drove off.

Chapter Twelve

Window Speaks for Monarch, and Seven Is Worried

Window, who still thought he was Christ, kept staring sadly at George and asking, “Are you Judas?” even as Seven hustled him and Gregory Diggs into the small sportscar.

“No he’s a friend,” Gregory kept repeating each time Window asked. They were all crowded in the car together. Josephine wrinkled her nose at George’s hairy and sweaty thighs and yelled over the sound of the motor: “I borrowed John’s files.” She waved a folder.

The car windows were all open, but it was still stifling. George looked anxious. Window’s Christ face was calm but resigned. George started driving up Church Street and asked rhetorically, “Well, what now?”

“Let’s eat,” Seven said. “Why not give Window a good meal in a restaurant? He missed supper at the Center, didn’t he? And then we can figure out what to do next.”

“I don’t know,” Josephine said dubiously.

“Why not?” Gregory demanded. “He could stand a treat. He’s not going to embarrass anyone, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Yeah. What the hell,” George said, grinning. “I’ve never had dinner with Christ before.”

Josephine glared at him. Seven grinned. Window in his Christ voice said, “I hope it’s not the Last Supper. It’s not easy being Christ in this day and age.”

“You just think you’re Christ,” Gregory said reproachfully. “I thought we settled that when we had our talk.”

“Well, that isn’t easy, either,” Window said, intelligently enough, Seven thought. “You all eat,” Window continued, cordially. “I’m fasting.”