T’Fees and his group were there to meet them. Chiddy spoke to him while Vess translated to the humans. Then the Inkleozese spoke, very dignified, very stern. Then Chiddy spoke again. The gist of the whole thing was that T’Fees’s interference with the way of life on Pistach-home was a matter for the Pistach to handle among themselves, but any philosophical changes that impacted upon the human race were outside Pistach’s sole authority. Now that the members of the Confederation were involved, the Inkleozese were there to supervise the human race’s attempt to get a grip on the situation.
T’Fees asked what they wanted.
The humans, said the lead Inkleoza, wanted to spend a night of meditation in the House of the Fresco, in the hope this would give them insight to aid their world in facing the grave tragedies which might be in the offing.
Benita was watching T’Fees. He turned slightly ocher.
“What tragedies are those?” he boomed.
“If the Pistach withdraw, Earth will be at the mercy of the predators, and Earth’s leaders need to prepare for that eventuality,” said the Inkleozese. “Certain other worlds, such as Pistach-home and Quirk, may also be at the mercy of the predators.”
T’Fees looked startled. Benita thought he was surprised, as though aware for the first time that his own actions had consequences he might not have thought of. The surprise carried over to the crowd of his supporters, where there was a good deal of expostulation back and forth.
This was followed by a lengthy argument between the curators and the Inkleozese. Then the Big SA asked to speak, translated by Chiddy. He spoke of the necessity of working in accord with the single spirit of universal life and intelligence, but what he conveyed was mostly rhythm and elation. Vess had had an advance copy, so the translation was well worked out, and the humans had been coached. As the Big SA stayed strictly away from anything that could be considered a reference to any picky, inceptorish little Earth god, by the time he was finished, he had the whole crowd swaying and shouting either “Amen, hallelujah,” or “Shavil, dashavil,” which meant “Amen, hallelujah” in Pistach.
When that died down, the president spoke, again translated by Chiddy, saying that he and his advisors intended to pray for clarification of both the Earthian and the Pistach role in the galaxy. More talk followed, quite subdued, ending with the curators’ permission to spend the night with the Fresco. A half dozen of them, not including Chiddy or Vess, would have to stay with the humans, however, just to be sure the Fresco came to no harm. T’Fees would come with them to be sure they were really interested in meditating, and the two Inkleozese would accompany the group. The humans bowed, the Pistach bowed, the Inkleozese bowed, T’Fees and his people bowed, and the whole procession went off up the stairs toward the House of the Fresco, lugging the altars containing, so Chiddy had informed the Pistach, their ritual materials. They had timed their arrival to coincide with the sunset, so they had to move very quickly.
Once inside, Benita and Chad shut the tall doors while the little SAs set up their altars, large carved wooden ones, upon which a ritual meal of cookies and root beer was set out in silver plates and faux crystal chalices. The Inkleozese and the Pistach, including T’Fees, joined in the ritual repast to be polite, for Chiddy had told them that human foods were all quite harmless. Which they were, of course, if one didn’t count sarsaparilla-induced unconsciousness as a harm.
Benita and Chad watched both the Pistach and the Inkleozese. Within moments, T’Fees and the Pistach elders were nodding on their reclining boards, and shortly they were completely out of it. The Inkleozese were still quite wide awake.
“Not as close physiologically as we hoped,” murmured Chad.
“Maybe even less close psychologically,” murmured Benita in return. “It’s a gamble, but they’ve cooperated so far. Let’s get on with it.”
The battery packs came out of the hollow altars, and bright lamps illuminated every line and surface of the Fresco. Powerful projectors were adjusted to show new outlines on each panel, the “spiritual advisors” took off their robes and put on their smocks, drop cloths were spread beneath the panels, and paint odors filled the House. There was at least one painter for each panel, more on the panels that needed the most help, and while Chad and Benita played endless rounds of poker with the president and the Big SA, all the artists who had pretended to be SAs went at the business of painting over the old Fresco to make it show precisely what the Pistach had thought it showed prior to the cleaning. The Inkleozese, without a word of protest, wandered around behind them, watching the work go on.