Pandemonium by Warren Fahy Read Free Book Online

emanated from the animal’s cranial crest shocking and vulgar. “What religion did he represent?” the old man inquired.
    “I don’t know,” Hender said. “What religion do you ‘rep-ree-zent’?”
    “That’s a new word for Hender,” Andy explained. “He’s not mocking you, Cardinal!”
    The old man nodded at Andy. “I represent the Catholic religion. Represent means that I believe in this religion, Hender. I believe it is true. Do you understand?”
    “Catholic? OK,” Hender said, waving two hands.
    The cardinal smiled, though he found himself deeply horrified by the intelligence of the creature before him. “Why do you ask me this question, Hender?” He asked God at the same time.
    “It confuses me.”
    “Why?”
    “Because a sel never tells another sel what to think.”
    The cleric was taken aback. He was clearly dealing with a sophisticated mind and not the primitives he had expected. He dabbed his forehead with his napkin, trying to look into Hender’s independently darting eyes. They were huge eyes, the size of guavas, and resembled tiger opals with three horizontal stripes, each of which seemed to have a pupil that looked straight into his soul, no matter which way the eyes swiveled. The cardinal chided himself as he tried to regain the initiative and closed his eyes. “Do you believe in God?”
    “What god?” Kuzu’s voice rumbled the air like a chain saw being stroked.
    Carnahan flinched, startled. “Any god.”
    “Sels believe different things at different times,” Hender intoned, his fur flushing red for a moment as one eye turned to Kuzu. “Long ago, sels tried to make other sels believe. Bad happened.”
    Joe poured the cardinal more grappa, and the cleric downed it like a tequila shot. The old man smiled then, careful not to show his teeth, and after a long moment Andy wondered if he were in some sort of physical distress, as he seemed frozen.
    Kuzu’s fur surged with purple and orange streaks as he pushed aside his plate and leaned over the table, his head tilting forward on his stretching neck. In a deep, rumbling voice like an engine, he purred: “Who is your God?”
    Cardinal Carnahan seemed suddenly relieved by a question that made sense and that he had an answer for. He answered by reaching down and raising the ornate gold crucifix around his neck toward the alien being.
    Kuzu and Hender both examined the golden symbol.
    “What’s the human doing?” Hender asked.
    “Dying,” the cleric breathed.
    “Why?” Kuzu asked.
    “For our sins.” Carnahan’s heart pounded in his throat.
    Hender fluted with a low note. “Why?”
    “He is the son of God.” The cardinal closed his eyes.
    “Why he die?” Kuzu growled.
    “For our sins.” The old man suddenly looked very fragile and pale, and Andy placed a worried hand on his arm.
    Both the sels appeared confused as they glanced at each other with one of their eyes.
    Andy waved at Hender to take things down a notch. He had seen the effect of communicating with the hendros on visitors many times and didn’t want to have the cardinal taken out on the stretcher they had made handy.
    “OK.” Hender raised four hands, spreading their three fingers and two thumbs. “This is your religion, Michael Carnahan.”
    The cleric nodded.
    Hender closed all twenty fingers on his four hands and nodded back at him, closing his eyes respectfully.
    “Are you planning to have children?” the cardinal asked.
    Andy’s heart sank at the ominous question.
    Hender shrugged his four “shoulders” and spread his long arms in four directions. “Here?” He frowned wryly at the old man.
    Kuzu honked what seemed like a rude laugh.
    “Well, Your Eminence,” Andy interjected. “Who can blame them? This is hardly the place to have children.”
    Kuzu stretched over the table to the crucifix on the cardinal’s chain, pinching it with two fingers and lifting the sacred icon up to one of his colorful eyes. “How God die?”
    The cardinal gasped