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Show Acting Alone Page 4Q? Make a book, make a Temple unto the Lord. Elder Cicerone had always wanted to do both things; and now he was, both at once. To participate in the building of literature and places of worship were privileges rare of their kind; and he trusted that things would not fall apart before he had a chance to see both projects through to completion. He trusted that America would remain implanted foursquare and solid right within her own boundaries as always and not fly away with the sparrows; he trusted his old body would remain more or less intact; and he trusted, moreover, in the infinite beneficence of Christ Jesus Himself, that the vicious rumor which had been spreading through the encampment before its razing was indeed just that, merely a rumor: that the cloven-hoofed Councillor of the Parable of the Double-Pronged Earthly and Unearthly Good had not sent out a squad of his own hit-missionaries to spill red and steaming upon the thirsty Rocky Mountain soil the blood of the Council's secret Thirteenth Member, whom the church now officially styled an insane jihad-mongering renegade and a public embarrassment. Godwilling the rumor were a lie, its presence at the encampment a mere symptom of some aspect of the "Companions'" indoctrination that needed a little fine adjustment, a little tightening, the products of that indoctrinal flaw needing to be recalled, on a permanent basis, to their manufacturer. To their creator, to be more precise. A lie, Godwilling. Especially, Mother of Christ Almighty, that part about good Councillor Ezra's having given his blessing to the squad of assassins as they mounted their private Cessna, bound to cross the wide Rockies in search of old, but ardently loyal blood. In any case, Elder Cicerone would remain here in his secure quarters |