Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 08 by Martians in Maggody Read Free Book Online

and those were absolutely terrifying -- "
    "Brian, you and Arthur are directly across from us in number five," Cynthia called as the former opened the trunk. "I tried to get you separate rooms, but these were the last two. I'm sorry about that, Arthur. I hope it's not inconvenient."
    It was, but he was busy congratulating himself on the publication of fourteen books. It was even more amazing if you took into account his numerous scholarly contributions to the Journal of the ETH Research Foundation. He was also in the midst of a caustic exchange that took place in the letters to the editor page of the Chronicle of Cosmic Inquiry. All that, he mused, and conferences at least every other month, some as far away as Australia and England. One of these days he'd have enough frequent flyer miles for a free trip to Alpha Centauri.
    "Do you have the key, Cynthia?" Brian asked as he balanced the laptop, boxes of disks, and a stack of manila folders. She did, and while Rosemary continued to describe her ordeal aboard the alien craft, Arthur to muse over his accomplishments, and Brian to glance wistfully at the door of No. 3, luggage was stored inside the room (cramped and cheaply furnished, but very clean). At some point Cynthia confirmed that Jules Channel was in the very next room and that the girl in No. 3 was indeed a reporter from the Probe. This cast a gloom on the group that was lifted only when Arthur said, "Well, then, shall we begin?"
     
     
    Brother Verber inspected his gear to make sure he was ready to begin that very night. On the couch were an industrial-size flashlight, an extra package of new batteries, a can of bug spray, a plastic pith helmet, and a worn, well-thumbed Bible. On the floor were two rubber boots, each big enough to drown a cat. He'd driven to the army surplus store in Farberville that morning and, to his chagrin, had been informed that they were the only ones in stock. Even though they were size sixteen, the salesman seemed to believe that they'd do just fine with socks stuffed in the toes. Brother Verber believed it, too, once ten dollars was knocked off the price and the pith helmet thrown in for free.
    He'd already decided which biblical verse to use (I Peter 2:11) and had been rehearsing most of the afternoon. "'Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul,'" he said, punctuating it with a string of sorrowful sighs for the wickedness that already would be in progress when he arrived. As disgusted as he would be, he could not shirk his duty; the mail-order seminary in Las Vegas had stressed selflessness and dedication, even when it meant going one-on-one with Satan hisself.
    Something about the quote didn't sit just right, he thought as he poured a glass of sacramental wine and sat down at the dinette. He rolled his eyes in a heavenly direction to find out if the Good Lord might object to a little fine-tuning. The Good Lord didn't comment. That meant He most likely was too busy with famines and wars even to notice. Brother Verber pondered the verse, trying to give it a little punch, and came up with a much more potent version. It was so promising that he went into the bathroom and struck a pose in front of the mirror.
    "Dearly beloveds, I beseech you as local teenagers whose parents attend the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall on Sunday mornings and hardly ever skip Wednesday evening prayer meetings, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against thine virgin souls."
    Satisfied that he'd covered all the bases, he went back to the dinette and reached for the wine bottle. All that was left to do was to determine if he was going to patrol upstream or downstream from the low-water bridge. If the Good Lord didn't drop any hints before dusk, Brother Verber figured he could flip a coin.
     
     
    Ruby Bee had sent Dahlia home to rest up before the crowd came back for happy hour. She herself was tuckered out, but she'd shooed out the last