familiar with Wegener’s hypothesis that at one time all of earth’s land masses formed a single continent, which fragmented and drifted apart over the ages? It’s considered a relatively new concept, but the Starry Wisdom knew the truth long ago. Just as they knew the reality behind so-called UFO phenomena, and what we term radio signals from outer space—”
A flying-saucer nut, Kay told herself. This man’s not a preacher, he’s a fanatic.
Once more the soft chuckle sounded. “Sorry, Mrs. Keith. I tend to get carried away.”
By the men in the white jackets. Kay’s thoughts echoed a completion of the sentence, but that was not what Reverend Nye had in mind.
“It’s merely that familiarizing yourself with our postulates will be of help to you in your assignment,” he was saying.
“I was told you just need some straight portrait shots,” Kay said. “Newspaper ads, I assume.”
“Correct.” The man behind the desk gestured with a white-gloved hand. “But needs are one thing; wants are another. And I want something more than mere photographs of an attractive, smiling face. I want that face to mirror sincerity, enlightenment, real understanding.”
Kay nodded, painfully aware that her face mirrored none of these things at the moment. The musty smell of old books rose around her, and this kinky character in the white gloves was really turning her off. But —duty calls.
“Al Bedard’s a good man with a camera,” she said. “I’m sure he can deliver.”
“Only if your own eyes are open and aware,” said Reverend Nye. He leaned forward, studying her. “For that reason, I’ve a request to make. There will be a Starry Wisdom lecture in the Temple this evening at eight. You’ll have an opportunity to listen and learn, an opportunity to understand. Will you come here again, tonight?”
No way, Kay told herself, rising quickly.
But when she spoke aloud, the words were different. “Of course I will,” she said.
Somehow she got out of the office, down the stairs, through the doorway, into her car. Even as she drove off into the slanting sunlight, everything still seemed blurred.
Everything, that is, except the vision of what had caused her to abruptly change her mind about returning—what she glimpsed when she stood up and glanced down at the carton of books beside the desk.
The title of the topmost volume meant nothing to her —The Outsider and Others. But the author’s name was H.P. Lovecraft.
“You gotta be kidding.” Al Bedard squinted sourly through the grimy windshield as he steered his VW on a clattering course down South Normandie with Kay beside him on the sagging seat. “Dragging me down into a place like this after dark. It’s not safe—”
As if to confirm his words, a pile of rubble loomed ahead, barricaded by yellow sawhorses to indicate ongoing street repairs in the aftermath of last month’s earthquake.
Bedard swung out to pass the obstruction on the left, shaking his head disgustedly.
Kay smiled at him, “You wouldn’t want me to come alone, would you?”
“I don’t see you coming at all,” Bedard told her. “What’s your cut on this job—two-three hundred, maybe? It’s not worth the aggravation.”
“Trust me,” Kay said. She nodded toward the curbing at her right. “You can pull in here.”
“I don’t trust anybody in this neighborhood,” Bedard muttered. “They’ll have the car stripped five minutes after we park.”
But he angled into a space alongside the curb and rolled up the windows as Kay stepped out onto the sidewalk. Locking the doors, he joined her as she stood staring at the building across the street.
The drapes were still drawn tightly to mask the windows, but the front door was open. Light from within illuminated the wooden sign above the entrance.
Bedard peered up at it as they crossed the street.
“Starry Wisdom Temple,” he said. “What is this, some kind of revival meeting?”
“We’ll see.” Kay glanced at her
A flying-saucer nut, Kay told herself. This man’s not a preacher, he’s a fanatic.
Once more the soft chuckle sounded. “Sorry, Mrs. Keith. I tend to get carried away.”
By the men in the white jackets. Kay’s thoughts echoed a completion of the sentence, but that was not what Reverend Nye had in mind.
“It’s merely that familiarizing yourself with our postulates will be of help to you in your assignment,” he was saying.
“I was told you just need some straight portrait shots,” Kay said. “Newspaper ads, I assume.”
“Correct.” The man behind the desk gestured with a white-gloved hand. “But needs are one thing; wants are another. And I want something more than mere photographs of an attractive, smiling face. I want that face to mirror sincerity, enlightenment, real understanding.”
Kay nodded, painfully aware that her face mirrored none of these things at the moment. The musty smell of old books rose around her, and this kinky character in the white gloves was really turning her off. But —duty calls.
“Al Bedard’s a good man with a camera,” she said. “I’m sure he can deliver.”
“Only if your own eyes are open and aware,” said Reverend Nye. He leaned forward, studying her. “For that reason, I’ve a request to make. There will be a Starry Wisdom lecture in the Temple this evening at eight. You’ll have an opportunity to listen and learn, an opportunity to understand. Will you come here again, tonight?”
No way, Kay told herself, rising quickly.
But when she spoke aloud, the words were different. “Of course I will,” she said.
Somehow she got out of the office, down the stairs, through the doorway, into her car. Even as she drove off into the slanting sunlight, everything still seemed blurred.
Everything, that is, except the vision of what had caused her to abruptly change her mind about returning—what she glimpsed when she stood up and glanced down at the carton of books beside the desk.
The title of the topmost volume meant nothing to her —The Outsider and Others. But the author’s name was H.P. Lovecraft.
“You gotta be kidding.” Al Bedard squinted sourly through the grimy windshield as he steered his VW on a clattering course down South Normandie with Kay beside him on the sagging seat. “Dragging me down into a place like this after dark. It’s not safe—”
As if to confirm his words, a pile of rubble loomed ahead, barricaded by yellow sawhorses to indicate ongoing street repairs in the aftermath of last month’s earthquake.
Bedard swung out to pass the obstruction on the left, shaking his head disgustedly.
Kay smiled at him, “You wouldn’t want me to come alone, would you?”
“I don’t see you coming at all,” Bedard told her. “What’s your cut on this job—two-three hundred, maybe? It’s not worth the aggravation.”
“Trust me,” Kay said. She nodded toward the curbing at her right. “You can pull in here.”
“I don’t trust anybody in this neighborhood,” Bedard muttered. “They’ll have the car stripped five minutes after we park.”
But he angled into a space alongside the curb and rolled up the windows as Kay stepped out onto the sidewalk. Locking the doors, he joined her as she stood staring at the building across the street.
The drapes were still drawn tightly to mask the windows, but the front door was open. Light from within illuminated the wooden sign above the entrance.
Bedard peered up at it as they crossed the street.
“Starry Wisdom Temple,” he said. “What is this, some kind of revival meeting?”
“We’ll see.” Kay glanced at her
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