God of Tarot Read Online Free PDF Page B

God.”
    Presumptuous bush! “Sounds like a case for the priests, rabbis, or holy men.”
    “They were the next to investigate. They proceeded directly to the haunted regions.” She stopped, and Brother Paul did not prompt her with another question. She stared at the desk for some time, as though probing every fissure in its rough grain, and finally resumed. “It was a disaster. Two resigned from their ministries, two had to be incarcerated as mentally incompetent, and two died. It seems they experienced more Hell than Heaven. That is how the job filtered down to us.”
    “Those apparitions actually killed . Took human life? No stampede or other physical cause?”
    “Those apparitions, or whatever it was those people experienced, actually did destroy minds and take human life.” She faced Brother Paul squarely, and her concern for him made her almost radiant. He knew she would turn the same expression on a wounded rattlesnake or a torn manuscript; that was what made her so lovely. “Now you know what I fear. Are you ready to go to Hell?”
    Ready? He was eager! “It sounds fascinating. But what exactly would be my mission there? To exorcise the Devil of Tarot?”
    “No. I fear that would be beyond your powers, or mine, or any of our Order.” She smiled very briefly. “The holy men who failed were prominent, devout men, thorough scholars, whose faith in their religions was tested and true. I find it strange that they should have suffered so greatly, while the large majority of the colonists, who represent a random sampling of Earth, have had few such problems.”
    Brother Paul nodded. “Perhaps not so strange. It may be that training and belief are liabilities in that situation.”
    “Perhaps. It is true that those who feel most strongly about religion obtain the strongest response from Planet Tarot. Those whose primary concern is to feed their faces—do just that.”
    As luck would have it, a strong waft of the aroma of Brother Peter’s hot bread passed through the room, making Brother Paul’s mouth water. “Are you suggesting that my concern is to feed my face?” he asked with a smile. Now that the nature of the mission had been clarified, his tension was gone.
    “You know better than that, Paul! But you are not a divinity specialist. Your background is broader, touching many aspects of the human state. More than the experience of most people. You know the meaning of prayer—and of pipefitting. Of divination—and gambling.”
    “Those are apt parallels.”
    “Thank you. You are aware of things that are beyond my imagination.” Brother Paul fervently hoped so; had she any inkling of the mishmash of notions that coursed through his brain, she would be shocked. He was reminded of a childhood game his friends had played, called Heaven or Hell. One boy and one girl were selected by lot to enter a dark closet. For one minute he had either to kiss her (Heaven) or hit her (Hell). Once Brother Paul had dreamed of taking the Reverend into such a closet, and he had awakened in a cold sweat, horrified. The very memory was appalling, now. Until that memory was gone, he would not be fit material for advancement within the Holy Order of Vision.
    But she was unaware of this chasm within him—an innocence for which he sincerely thanked God. “I feel you would not concentrate exclusively on the religious implications of the problem,” she continued blithely. “You would relate to the concerns of the colonists as well. Perhaps you will be able to ascertain not only what happened to the priests, but why it doesn’t happen to the colonists, and why faith seems to be such a liability. But more important—”
    “I think I anticipate you,” Brother Paul murmured.
    “We want to ascertain whether this phenomenon is ultimately material or spiritual. We have observed only the fringes of it so far, but there appear to be elements of both. One explanation is that this is a test for man, of his coming-of-age: that God, if