Part 21 (1/2)

”Hold out both your hands.”

Herb Asher held out both his hands. Immediately cuffs closed around his wrists.

”Continue,” the cop said. ”But I should tell you that anything you say may be held against you in a court of law.”

”The plan was to smuggle G.o.d back to Earth,” Herb Asher said. ”In my wife's womb. It succeeded. That's why there's a warrant out for me. The crime I committed was smuggling G.o.d back to Earth, where the Evil One rules. The Evil One secretly controls everyone and everything here. For example, you are working for the Evil One.”

”I'm-”

”But you don't realize it. You have never heard of Belial.”

”True,” the cop said.

”That proves my point,” Herb Asher said.

”Everything you have said since I grappled onto you has been recorded,” the cop said. ”It will be a.n.a.lyzed. So you're G.o.d's father.”

”Legal father.”

”And that's why you're wanted. I wonder what the statute violation is, technically. I've never seen it listed. Posing as G.o.d's father.”

”Legal father.”

”Who's his real father?”

”He is,” Herb Asher said. ”He impregnated his mother.”

”This is disgusting.”

”It's the truth. He impregnated her with himself, and thereby replicated himself in microform by which method he was able to-”

”Should you be telling me this?”

”The battle is over. G.o.d has won. The power of Belial has been destroyed.”

”Then why are you sitting here with the cuffs on and why am I pointing a laser gun at you?”

”I'm not sure. I'm having trouble figuring that out. That and South PacJic. There are a few bits and pieces I can't seem to get to go in place. But I'm working on it. What I am positive about is Yah's victory.” 'Yah.' I guess that's G.o.d.”

”Yes; his actual name. His original name. When he was living on the top of the mountain.”

The cop said, ”I don't mean to compound your troubles, but you are the most f.u.c.ked-up human being I have ever met. And I see a lot of different kinds of people. They must have slushed your brain when they put you in cryonic suspension. They must not have gotten to you in time. I'd say that about a sixth of your brain is working and that sixth isn't working right, not at all. I'm taking you to a far, far better place than you have ever been, and they will do far, far better things to you than you can possibly imagine. In my opinion-”

”I'll tell you something else,” Herb Asher said. ”You know who my business partner is? The prophet Elijah.”

Into his microphone the cop said, ”This is 356 Kansas. I am bringing an individual in for psychiatric evaluation, a white male about-” To Herb Asher he said, ”Did I give you your license back?” The cop put his gun back in its holster and rummaged beside him for Herb Asher's license. Herb Asher lifted the gun from the cop's holster and pointed it at him; he had to hold both hands together because of the cuffs, but nonetheless he was able to do it.

”He has my gun,” the cop said. The intercom speaker sputtered, ”You let a slusher get your gun?”

”Well, he was running off at the mouth about G.o.d; I thought he was . . .” The cop's voice trailed off lamely.

”What is the individual's name?” the speaker sputtered.

”Asher. Herbert Asher.”

”Mr.Asher,” the speaker sputtered, ”please return the officer's gun.”

”I can't,” Herb Asher said. ”I'm frozen in cryonic suspension. And there's a fifty-thousand-watt FM transmitter next door playing South PacJic. It's driving me crazy. The speaker sputtered, ”Suppose we instruct the station to shut down its transmitter. Then will you return the officer's gun?”

”I'm paralyzed,” Herb Asher said. ”I'm dead.”

”If you're dead,” the speaker sputtered, ”you have no need of a gun. In fact, if you're dead, how are you going to fire the gun? You said yourself that you're frozen. People in cryonic suspension can't move; they're like Lincoln Logs.”

”Then tell the officer to take the gun away from me,” Herb Asher said. The speaker sputtered, ”Take the-”

”The gun is real,” the cop said, ”and Asher is real. He's crazy. He's not frozen. Would I arrest a dead man? Would a dead man be flying to California? There's a warrant out on this man; he is a wanted felon.”

”What are you wanted for?” the speaker sputtered. ”I'm talking to you, Mr. Asher. I'm talking to a dead man who's frozen stiff at zero degrees.”

”Much colder than that,” Herb Asher said. ”Ask them to play the Mahler Second Symphony. And play it the way it was originally written; not an all-string verson. I can't stand any more of this all-string music, this easy-listening music. It's not easy for me. At one time I had to listen to Fiddler on the Roof for months. 'Matchmaker, Matchmaker' lasted for days. And it was at a very critical time in my cycle; I was-”

”All right,” the speaker sputtered reasonably. ”What do you say to this? We'll have the FM station play the Mahler Second Symphony and in exchange you'll return the officer's gun. What is the- Wait a minute.” Silence.

”There's a lapse of logic here,” the cop beside Herb Asher said. ”You're falling into his idee fixe. You know what I'm hearing? I'm hearingfo/ie deux. This has got to stop. There is no FM transmitter broadcasting South Pacific. If there were, I would hear it. You can't call the station-any station-and have them play the Mahler Second; it won't work.”

The speaker sputtered, ”But he'll think so, you stupid son of a b.i.t.c.h.”

”Oh,” the cop said.

”Give me a few minutes, Mr. Asher,” the speaker sputtered, ”to get hold-”

”No,” Herb Asher said. ”It's a trick. I won't give up the gun.” To the cop beside him he said, ”Release my car.

”Better release his car,” the speaker sputtered.

”And take off the cuffs,” Herb Asher said.

”You'll really like the Mahler Second Symphony,” the cop said. ”It's got a choir in it.”

”Do you know what the Mahler Second has in it?” Herb Asher said. ”Do you know what it's scored for? I'll tell you what it's scored for. Four flutes, all alternating with piccolos, four oboes, the third and fourth alternating with English horns, an B-flat clarinet, four clarinets, the third alternating with ba.s.s clarinet, the fourth with second B-flat clarinet, four ba.s.soons, the third and fourth alternating with contraba.s.soon, ten horns, ten trumpets, four trombones-”

”Four trombones?” the cop said.

”Jesus Christ,” the speaker sputtered.

”-a tuba,” Herb Asher continued. ”Organ, two sets of timpani, plus an additional single drum off-stage, two ba.s.s drums, one off-stage, two pairs of cymbals, one off-stage, two gongs, one of relatively high pitch, the other low, two triangles, one off- stage, a snare drum, preferably more than one, glockenspiel, bells, a Ruthe-”