In the Next Life, Canto III, stanzas 381-390

“Here’s what we’ll do: We’ll stop and make our camp
and find some fresh disciples in the morn.
The ones we have won’t do to make our stamp.
Their humans know that few are in this borne.

We’ll watch for signals in the newer set.
When one displays its red light we’ll do ours.
They’ll have to give us half, so half we’ll get,
and some will be like you—some pretty flowers.

“I’ll pollinate their pistillated parts.
They’ll be unable to resist this bod.
And you’ll be first among the fallen hearts.
Youl’ll get your due before I spend my wad.

“From that I’ll get my raw materiel,
along with pre-existing empty slates.
I’ll write thereon that the most lasting Hell
is that which blind obedience creates.”

Her bubble burst, poor Esther stood and stared.
It seemed to her that everything had stopped.
She drew a breath, and though extremely scared,
reached downward for the panel she had dropped.

He rolled his eyes and said, “How cute you look,
but soon your arm will tire; you’ll leave it lay.”
She knew she would; he’d read her like a book.
He paused a moment; then he turned away.

Despite her normal youthful lack of sense,
our heroine could still tell right from wrong,
and wrong it was to practice violence
for selfish reasons. No, she must be strong.

Her grip relaxed; her shoulder took the weight.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and prayed.
A Christian, she must not be moved by hate.
A judgment based on values must be made.

’Twas momentary anger, she could tell.
His was no crime the law would recognize,
and killing him would sentence her as well.
Plus, now she’d no advantage of surprise.

Besides, her jealousy had no good base.
The skull before her was not hers to break.
The Mission, though, was quite another case.
She had to do it for the Mission’s sake.

The Mission’s sake: So Ciral thought he understood how culturgens influenced people’s behavior, but having grown up in a culture that lacked powerful beliefs, he didn’t grasp how strong that influence could be. Merrimac chose not to develop this theme, preferring instead to hit us on the head with it, as it were,

©2011 Louis A. Merrimac