The Earth Gods Are Coming Read Free Page A

sleeve Gus wore.
    He swallowed. He had been about to make some jocular remark. Instead, he said, "Colonel Inglis reporting as ordered, Admiral."
    How—why—was nitwitted Dick Myrtle calling a full space navy Admiral, Gus?
    Admiral Rattigan motioned to the chairs. As he sat down, he grunted, then said, "I've a job for you, Roy. You've been out disseminating capsules. You know the score. Well, we're up against what we planned against."
    "Three thousand years time?" said Inglis.
    "No. Nothing vague or futuristic. We're up against the evil—here and now!"
    -

3
    When, during the course of their education, children were taught that once in the long long ago a hundred different religions flourished upon the fair face of the Earth, blighting that pleasant place with fear and misunderstanding and strife, they were frankly incredulous. Different ways of thought, multifaceted systems of logic, mores that changed as circumstances dictated—all these and more were understandable. But how two people could disagree about religion was a thing that passed all human understanding.
    From the acceptance of one great universal religion of light and grace, power and perfect understanding, the idea that the opposite would be all that the devil's hell could spawn was a simple step. On Earth is light. On the worlds floating in space that the Earth made her own was light. And, on any world that so far had not been visited by man, too, would be light, for the old intolerances had been swept away.
    Earthmen went out to the stars owning a belief that they were in a sufficient state of grace as to meet with any alien culture on friendly terms, to explore in humility, to learn and, if it was so willed, to teach.
    One thing, they avoided bloodshed.
    Now, from the relatively tiny segment of the Galaxy that had been explored and sparsely settled by man, had grown a loose confederation of solar systems living in amity one with another. Men called this the Solar Commonwealth of Stars.
    And throughout that commonwealth there had been few wars, few interstellar conflicts, fewer invasions. One migrating influx of alien war-mad ships had caused trouble; but in ridding the Commonwealth of them mankind and her allies had developed strong fighting forces. That had been the eye opening incident that had given rise to the Culture Dissemination Bureau.
    But, with one universal religion that thought along ways well-tried in human experience, so that men knew that what they preached and practised was the best and the right; with no dissentients and none unhappy; glorying in their harmony: it must follow that ways of thought that were anti-human, that did not seek to enhance the dignity of man, his birthright of freedom and happiness and the right to lead his own life, must of necessity be evil.
    It was no question of simple black and white. Everything that humanity had learned about itself over the centuries had coalesced into the present human way of life.
    If any other way of life that was diametrically opposed to it were to be found, and no amount of patient thought and meditation and willingness to learn and understand, could relate that alien mode of conduct with men's—then that alien way of life must, must, be evil.
    In all the history of the Solar Commonwealth of Stars, no alien evil culture had been found.
    The CDB had been set up; but that was insurance.
    And now, in this quiet room high in the CDB, with the star charts on the walls and the celestial globes waiting to come to life, with Dick Myrtle chuckling away there in his seat and a full space navy admiral called Gus sitting puffily across from him, Colonel Roy Inglis, Space Marines, was solemnly being told that the final evil had arrived. He found it difficult to accept.
    "But has everything been tried?" he asked, automatically. "We call no man enemy until he no longer calls us friend— and even, beyond that—"
    "I know, Roy, I know." Admiral Rattigan sat lumpily in his chair, shrouded eyes hiding his