He went on to the end, speaking carefully and sonorously. It was not a long sermon, but He flattered Himself that it was meaty. At the end of it He stepped back a pace, and folded His arms, in their long white-silk sleeves, across His chest.

Simon took over now, and so far as Weaver could judge, he did well. He recited a litany which Weaver had taught him, indicating by gestures that the congregation was to repeat after him every second speech. The low chirping welled from the hall; a comforting, warming sound, almost like the responses of a human congregation. Weaver felt tears welling to His eyes, and He restrained Himself from weeping openly only by a gigantic effort. After all, He was a god of wrath; but the love which swept toward Him at this moment was a powerful thing to gainsay.

When it was all over, He went back to His sanctum, dismissed all His retinue except His regular assistants, and removed the ceremonial robes.

"The people responded well," He said. "I am pleased."

Simon said, "They will work hard to please You, Master. You bring great happiness to them."

"That is well," said Weaver. He sat down behind His great desk, while the others stood attentively below Him, in the sunken fore-section of the sanctum. "What business have you for Me today?"

"There is the matter of the novel, Master," said Mark. He stepped forward, mounted the single step to Weaver's dais, and laid a sheaf of papers on the desk. "This is a preliminary attempt which one called Peter Smith has made with my unworthy help."

"I will read it later," Weaver told him. It was poor stuff, no doubt—what else could one expect?—but it was a start. He would tell them what was wrong with it, and they would try again.

Literary criticism, armaments, tariffs, manners—there was no end to it. "What else?"

Luke stepped forward. "The plans for the large weapons You commanded Your servants to design, Master." He put three large sheets of parchment on the desk.

Weaver looked at the neat tracery on the first, and frowned. "You may come near Me," He said. "Show Me how these are meant to operate."

Luke pointed to the first drawing. "This is the barrel of the weapon, Master," he said. "As You commanded, it is rifled so that the missile will spin. Here the missile is inserted 

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