Heaven by Ian Stewart

the way to universal love, and the harmony of peaceful coexistence, throughout the Galaxy.
    There could be no more worthwhile way to live.
    Sam had grown up on a typical Cosmic Unity world, living in a huge, graceless housing complex with neighbors of many other
     species. Life was simple—and dull. Very little ever happened to disturb the daily routine. But then, it never occurred to
     him that any other lifestyle was possible, so he was content.
    Following family tradition, he had trained as a duplicator operator. Then—it was still amazing to think about it—the priesthood
     had selected him to leave his homeworld and carry out his spiritual duties on board a starship!
    As a child, he had seen the stars. Only a few times, but their brilliance was burned into his memory. Never had he dreamed
     that he might
go
to the stars. None of his ancestors had ever been so privileged. And it was not just any starship, but a disseminator of
     the Memeplex. From which he had helped to convert unbelievers to the Way of the One. Not just a few lifesouls—entire planets.
    He had already served the Lifesoul-Cherisher on three missions. No-Moon was to be his fourth. He fervently hoped there would
     be many, many more before the Lifesoul-Stealer put an end to his life. And he
knew
—he had no idea how, but he never doubted it—that he was destined for even more than this. He would rise in the Church, in
     the fullness of time. Then he could serve the One to even greater effect.
    It was not something that could be rushed. He must await his moment and seize the chance when it came.
    For now, he was content to operate a duplicator and stay in his familiar cubby.
    One production run ended, and he consulted his list and performed the necessary ritual gestures to start the next. Equipment
     boxes piled up faster than the menials could remove them.
    Sam had been told, along with the other servants of Unity, that the indigenes of No-Moon were aquatic creatures, male polypoids
     bred in coralline reefs. Their intelligence was about average, unlike that of their females, which was zero. And—
praise the Lifesoul-Giver!
—the target was a trading world. A dozen other species were regular visitors. According to advance information, tens of thousands
     of Neanderthals were transient inhabitants of the sea ports, all across the seven continents, throughout the myriad atolls
     and archipelagoes.
    Neanderthals
. Sam was gloriously aware that, like his ancestors, they had evolved on one of the Founder worlds. They had lived in the
     System of the Original Sun, along with humans, blimps, and plasmoids. They were among the most privileged of all races. But,
     if he recalled his childhood lessons in Church history correctly—and he always did, for he had remembered them with arduous
     perfection—the Neanderthals had been removed from their home planet, leaving only
Homo sapiens
, the stock of Moish, long before the first voyage of Cosmic Unity had set out to evangelize the Galaxy. They had departed
     the System of the Original Sun
before
it had joined the Cosmic All. They had become vagrants, nomads . . . and more than once they had fled from the approach of
     a mission fleet. They remained infidels—a continuing challenge to the servants of the Lifesoul-Cherisher.
    He did not believe that the Neanderthals were actually
wicked
. They were obstinate and misguided, to be sure. Instead of believing in their own puny false gods, like most races, they
     believed in no god at all. Their empathic sense was legendary, but their sense of the supernatural was nonexistent. Infidels
     indeed: Literally,
they had no faith
.
    How could any sentient being deny the evidence of the Lifesoul-Giver? It was all around them. Every sunrise, every rainstorm,
     every perfect crystal of frozen methane
shouted
the presence of a benevolent being, creating the cosmic order. The proofs were everywhere, mundane or profound. In fact,
     that was why he’d seen the stars.
    One