Dragon's Teeth Read Online Free PDF Page B

it. That’s what his Daddy had taught him. He sprinkled his sermons with Bible quotations proving that it was no sin to hate unbelievers—or to act on that hatred. After all, those people had placed themselves beyond the pale of God’s forgiveness. They had not and would not repent. They should be purged from the body of mankind. “If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out!” he stormed, and his legions of followers went out looking for offending eyes, their own blind to mirrors.
    Most of his prosperity he owed to his own cleverness, but there were times when he needed that little helping hand—just as he had thought he might. Like the time when his network of informers let him know that Newsweek had found his ex-wife, and she was going to spill some embarrassing things about him. Or that one of his many ex-mistresses was going to write a tell-all biography. Or that the IRS was planning an audit.
    All he had to do was whisper Lightman’s name, and his request, and by midnight, it was taken care of.
    By twelve-oh-one, he was truly, sincerely, repenting that he had ordered his wife’s murder—or whatever other little thing he had requested. Truly, sincerely, and deeply, confessing himself to God and showing that repentance in concrete sacrifices of tears and cash. From the beginning, he had told himself that he was acting on God’s behalf, spitting in the face of Satan by tricking the Great Trickster. He told himself every time he prayed that he was working for God.
    It was a foolproof scheme, and the seven years flew by. During the last year, he was cautious, but resigned. He knew that Lightman would arrange for his death, so there was no point in trying to avoid it. And, indeed, on the very instant of the seventh-year anniversary of the contract, he had a heart attack. As he prayed before his video-congregation. Just like Brother Lee.

    Lester stood beside the body in the expensive hospital bed and stared down at it. The monitors were mostly flatlined; the only ones showing any activity were those reporting functions that had been taken over by machines. Strange, he thought. The man in the bed looked so healthy.
    “Ah, Lester, you’re right on time,” Lightman said genially, stepping around from behind a curtain.
    Lester shrugged. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t be?” he asked, just as genially. He could afford to be genial; after all, he wasn’t going to be leaving with Lightman.
    “What, no screaming, no crying, no begging?” Lightman seemed genuinely surprised. “Normally your kind are the worst—”
    Lester only chuckled. “Why should I be worried?” he replied. “You only think you have me. But I repented of every single one of those crimes I asked you to commit. Every death, every blackmail scheme, every disgrace—I even repented the small things, repented every time I accepted someone’s Social Security check—every time I arranged a special-effects miracle or convinced someone to leave me everything in their will—”
    But he stopped as Lightman began laughing. “Oh yes, you did,” Lightman told him merrily. “And my Opponent has forgiven you for those sins. But you didn’t read the fine print.” He handed Lester the copy of his contract, and pointed to the last page. “Read the commentary, dear boy. Carefully, this time.”
    The words leapt off the page at him.
    Sins repented will be forgiven by the Opposition, but forgiveness does not imply repayment. All sins committed by the party of the first part must be repaid to the party of the second part regardless of whether or not forgiveness has been obtained.
    “These are the sins you’ll be repaying, my boy,” Lightman said pleasantly, waving his hand. A stack of computer forms as tall as Lester appeared beside him. “But that is not why I am truly pleased to have you among us—”
    Another stack of computer forms appeared, impossibly high, reaching up as far as Lester could see, millions of them.
    “This stack—” Lightman