The Dark Design by Phillip Jose Farmer

Ladislas Podebrad was red headed and of medium height, very broad and muscular, bull necked, thin lipped, massively chinned. Though he had formidable features and an icy demeanor, he permitted the meeting to last longer than the three had expected. It even went well, though not entirely as hoped for.

“Why are you in such a hurry to get to the North Pole? I have heard of this tower that is supposed to be in the middle of a sea behind impassable mountains. I do not know that I believe the story. But it seems possible. Perhaps, even probable.

“This world may have been fashioned originally by God. But it is evident that human beings, or something similar, have remade the surface of this planet. It is also evident to me, a scientist, that our resurrection is caused by physical means, by science, not by a supernatural agency.

“Why, I do not know. But the Church,of the Second Chance has an explanation that sounds somewhat logical. Though they lack much data and even more certainty.

“In fact, the Church seems to me to know more than anyone else about this business, if I may put it that way.”

He drummed long, slim fingers on the table as they all fell silent. Frigate, watching them, thought how ill matched they were to his husky physique and broad, thick hands.

Podebrad rose and walked to a cabinet, opened it, and withdrew an object.

He held in his fingers a spiral bone taken from a hornfish.

“You all know what this is. The Chancers wear it as a symbol of their faith, though I wish they had more knowledge to back their faith. But if they had more knowledge, they wouldn’t need faith, would they? In this respect they’re like all other religions, Terres­trial or Riverworld.

“However, we do know that there is an afterlife.

“Or perhaps I should say, there was an afterlife. Now that people no longer are resurrected after death, we don’t know what to expert. Even the Church has no answer to the question of why translation has suddenly ceased. It speculates that,perhaps, people have been given enough time to save themselves, and there is no longer a reason to continue the resurrections. ‘”Either you are saved by now or you are not.

“I really don’t know what the truth is.

“Gentlemen, I was an atheist on Earth, a member of the Czecho-slovakian Communist Party. But here I met a man who convinced me that religion has nothing to do with rationality. At least, its foundation, the basis for its existence, does not.

“After the act of faith comes, of course, the rationalization for the faith, its pseudological justification. However, neither Jesus nor Marx, Buddha nor Mohammed, Hindu nor Confucian, Taoist nor Jew were right about the afterworld. They were even more mistaken about this world than the one we were born in.”

He walked to the desk, sat down behind it, and placed the spiral bone on it.

“Sinjoroj, I was going to announce today my conversion to the Church of the Second Chance. And also announce my resignation as head of the state of Nova Bohemujo. Several days afterward, I would embark up The River to journey to Virolando, which, I am assured, does indeed exist. And there I would ask the leader and the founder of the Church, La Viro, some questions. If he answered them satisfactorily, or even if he admitted that he did not know all the answers, I would place myself under his jurisdiction. Go where he said, do what he said.

“But if my information is correct, and I have no reason to believe my informants are liars, Virolando is millions of kilometers away. It would take me half an Earthly lifetime to get mere.

“Now, you suddenly come to me with a proposal. One that I am astounded I did not think of myself. Perhaps because I was really more interested in the voyage than in its end.

“Voyages are always more rewarding in self-discovery than in anything else, are they not? Perhaps that is why the obvious escaped me.

“Yes, gentlemen, I can build a blimp for you.

“There is only one stipulation. You must take me with you.”

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