Making God

  *

  Back at headquarters, Beth entered Edison’s office expecting to discuss how to proceed with Hapax. When she saw the half-empty bottle of scotch on her supervisor’s desk, though, she knew something was terribly wrong.

  “Can I offer you a drink, Agent Mansfield?” he asked somberly.

  “No, thank you,” she said, sitting down.

  Before she could say anything else, he leaned forward and said, “I don’t know any good way of saying this, but we’re closing down your operation.”

  “What?” she said, standing.

  “Your undercover men, Agents Williams and Pirsig were caught by Church security. They’re suing the government. It’s all over the papers.”

  “But they had a cover story! There was no way they could be traced back to the Bureau!”

  “They saw the moon move, Beth. From their little peephole under the stage, they saw the fucking moon move and they converted and they talked. And they’re not the only ones being born again. Everyone was watching that broadcast, everyone, from the Speaker of the House to the President himself, and that includes a lot of our top people. Rumor has it that our beloved Bureau Chief is now an initiate in the Church of the Ultimate Signifier, and there’s worse news coming down the pike. It’s been three days and we still don’t have a clear count on how many conversions there were. We are shut down,” he said, taking a swig from his glass.

  Beth felt the bottom of her stomach drop.

  Edison leaned back, glassy-eyed.

  “Beth, I think the most difficult part of life is figuring out when you can and should do something, and when the situation has just gotten beyond the powers of mere mortals. I know Keech is as dirty as they come, hell, he’s a maniac, but he’s got us and the country by the balls. There’s only so much this agency can do. So, my thirty years here tell me, in my gut, that this is one of those things we’ll just have to let go. I’ve got a job and a family. The country has seen and survived worse than Keech and his church, and I’m sure he won’t be the last of his type. Maybe next time we can take him down, but this time, I’m afraid, your investigation has been officially closed.”

  Beth looked around, trying to find her voice. There were a thousand questions spinning in her head, but only one made it out.

  “What about Hapax?” she asked.

  “Get him the hell out of that hospital as fast as you can. Tell him to change his name and forget he ever wrote anything.”