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"There's another thing," Carl continued, "and that's prayer. Pray for your
father, and the rest of your family. And we'll be praying with you, and for
you. You're not on your own, Ed. I'll also tell you what I told Rick—that you
can come and talk to me, or Emma, anytime while we're here. And I'm sure
Pastor Henry, or Mandy's parents, or Joel Smith, or Alice McIntire would say
the same thing. Read the Bible every day, and learn what God tells you in it,
and pray."
Ed looked at him silently for a moment. "Thanks, Mr. Slade," he said at
last, "I really appreciate your telling me that. I'll try—I'll try to, uh, honour
my dad."
"You do that, Ed," Carl said, "and you'll find that after a while you'll be
able to do it without even thinking about it. And you never know—God
might do another miracle and your dad might change, too." He straightened
up. "Which brings us back to the subject of miracles," he said, "loaves-and-
fishes-type miracles, that is. Yes, Ed, I believe they still happen. They've
happened to me. Maybe someday I'll tell you about it. God doesn't change,
you know, and He still loves us, and He is full of mercy. He still makes
paralysed people walk again, and He still feeds multitudes with a handful of
food. He does it when He decides to, though, not just anytime we feel like
having a miracle happen. He doesn't believe in spoiling His children."
He turned to look towards the building behind them. "I can hear people
coming out of the hall now," he said, "I think I'll go and find my family." He
took apart his flute and put it back in its case. "It was good talking with you
lads," he said as he got up and stepped over the wall. "I'll see you later. Go
with God and in His strength."

!!!

Later that evening, Henry and his friends met together in Joel's coffee
shop. The Winters had taken the twins home with them so that Carl and
Emma could join in the discussion, and Carl and Henry would be picking
them up later. Joel put together a pot of tea and some sandwiches, and they
all sat around a table to talk. Ron Velasquez would be arriving in the
morning and they all wanted to be in agreement and informed about the
situation so far. They had already talked over everything that had happened
since Lancaster had arrived in Goldridge, and especially since he'd become
mayor. They had gone over the history of the downfall of the Goldridge
churches, and finally they had discussed what had happened since Carl had
first come to Goldridge.
"It was such a surprise to see Matt and Tom at the meeting this
afternoon, and with their wives, yet!" Henry said, "It was even more of a
surprise when they came to me afterwards, with their wives, and asked me
to forgive them for the way they'd behaved towards me." He pulled an
envelope from the pocket inside his jacket. "They also handed these to me—I
won't show them to you—and I'll add them to my drawerful of evidence to
hand over to Inspector Velasquez when he gets here."

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"Are these the photographs they threatened James and you with?" Emma
asked.
"That's right," Henry confirmed, "Speaking of James, they apologized to
him and Laura, too."
"I wonder how Lancaster and his mob will react to this," Carl muttered,
"First James, now Matt and Tom... The believers are rallying together... I
can't imagine them watching all this and just shrugging it off..."
"What could have made Matt and Tom turn around so suddenly and
come back to the fold?" Alice asked.
"Perhaps my little talk to them on Saturday afternoon had something to
do with it?" Joel suggested.
"That's where you went!" Alice exclaimed, and turning to the others,
explained, "He asked me to mind the shop yesterday afternoon because he
had an important visit to make, but he wouldn't say a word about it either
before or after."
"Dad rang me up at lunchtime yesterday asking me to pray about some
important meeting he had, but he wouldn't give any details!" Henry added.
"You're a sly one, aren't you?" Emma smiled at the old man, who winked
back.
George had listened to all this in silence, now and then nodding or
smiling or frowning at what had been said. Now he asked if he might be
allowed to comment.
"Please do tell us your impressions about all this, George," Alice said, "As
an outsider you may be able to see things more objectively than we can."
"I don't know about that," George replied, "but to my mind the most
important thing that has to happen in the church here is that the leaders
start listening wholeheartedly to the Holy Spirit and taking their instructions
from Him." He looked pointedly at Henry. "You must stop using the world's
methods. You belong to Jesus Christ and only His way is the right one for
you."
"I wish we'd kept that in mind all along," Henry said quietly, "I wish I'd
kept it in mind." He sighed and shifted on his chair. "Well," he said, "What
happened can't be changed, but it should never happen again. I wonder,
George—if I got the other church leaders together would you be willing to
talk to all of us and tell us what you've told me? It would be easier to take
from someone like you than from any of us here in Goldridge, I think. You
haven't been involved in any scandals."
"What about Carl?" George said, "He doesn't mince his words."
"Uh... There's only one problem," Carl said, "My photo in the paper Friday
before last..."
"That wouldn't help, it's true," Alice said, "They know it was all a lie, but
it still colours things."
"It didn't seem to get in the way this afternoon," Henry observed,
"Everyone was paying attention to Carl as if their life depended on it."
"Which it did," Alice said.
"My word!" Joel exclaimed, "You had quite an effect there with your
picture of the cup, Carl! It really showed us what we'd gone and done!"

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Henry slapped Carl on the shoulder. "Yes, you told it to us straight, didn't
you?" he said, "It took us all by surprise, but there was no doubt on
anyone's part that it was the truth." He looked around at the others, who
nodded in agreement. "Nonetheless," he continued, "It was the truth spoken
in love." He put his hand on Carl's arm and spoke firmly. "It was pretty
obvious to everyone, Carl, that you're a man whose whole aim in life is to get
people on the right track, God's track."
Carl gazed at Henry, recalling that moment at the airport when Henry
had reminded him of his time in the Counselling Institute. "Thank you,
Henry," he said softly, "You've encouraged me no end these last two weeks."
"Well, you know, back when I was your counsellee, even though it wasn't
your aim at all, you helped me far more than you could ever guess," Henry
said, "I became more firm in my faith than I'd ever been before. I came to
realize just how much God loves me, and how completely I could trust Him.
I learned the meaning of forgiveness and of loving one's enemies. You can't
imagine the joy I had in my heart two weeks ago when I recognized you and
saw what God had done in you. And these last two weeks have confirmed it
again and again. God has made you a wise and true counsellor."
"Henry, when you reminded me of who you were, I was astounded," Carl
said, "partly because I'd spent a whole week with you without recognising
you, but mostly because you hadn't even hinted at it the whole time. There
wasn't any bitterness in you about it. I really am glad that I failed back
then—that your faith was even stronger when you left the Institute."
Suddenly, he looked mischievously at Henry. "I hope you've asked God's
forgiveness for that deception, Henry!" he exclaimed.
Henry was surprised, but he noticed the twinkle in Carl's eyes. "What do
you mean?" he asked suspiciously.
Carl wagged a finger at him and spoke fiercely. "You were freed from the
Institute on the understanding that you'd converted to the Protection
philosophy."
Henry chuckled. "Yes, that's true," he said happily, "I suppose you could
say that I lived a lie from then until the fall of Denson." He became serious
as suddenly as Carl had started teasing. "Yes," he said quietly, "It did bother
me that I had to lie, even if it was for the right reason. I had to ask God's
forgiveness..."
George cleared his throat loudly. "I wonder if we could switch back to the
matter of the leaders now you two have cleared your consciences," he said,
grinning as Carl's face turned red and Henry looked startled, "Henry, I
would like to talk to the pastors and elders of Goldridge about the life of the
church—is there any possibility of getting together with them while we're
still here?"
"I'm sure I can arrange it, even for as soon as tomorrow night—the
sooner the better," Henry replied, "From what they were saying to me this
afternoon, sorting out the mess in the church is their first priority at the
moment. Would you like me to start ringing them now?"
"If you think they'll be happy about it, yes."

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"Fine," Henry said, and got up. "May I use your phone, Dad?" he asked
Joel.
"Go ahead," Joel grinned, waving towards the phone.
Henry took his notebook out of his pocket and started towards the
phone. Halfway there, he turned around. "Could you lot pray while I ring all
these people, please?" he asked his friends.
"Sure thing!" Joel replied, and as Henry began making his calls, he led
the others in quiet prayer.

209
 CHAPTER 25

When Ron Velasquez drove up to Henry's house early on Monday

morning, Carl was sitting on the steps of the camper reading his Bible. As
the car stopped at the kerb, he looked up and recognized it.
He got up and opened the camper door slightly to put his Bible on the
bunk just inside, then went to greet his friend. "Did you drive all night?" he
asked as Ron got out of his car and handed him a briefcase.
"That's a funny way to greet a friend, Carl," Ron answered, not smiling,
but with amusement in his eyes, "asking them if they drove all night, indeed!
'Good morning' might be more appropriate, I feel. Don't you think so?"
"Good morning, then, Ron," Carl grinned, shaking his hand, "Now we've
got the formalities over with, I'll ask my question again. Did you drive all
night?"
Ron ignored the question. "Is this house watched, do you know?" he
asked.
Carl looked around pensively before answering. "Sometimes," he said,
and turned towards the house. "Come inside if you're feeling paranoid, Ron,"
he said, grinning at his still-unsmiling friend, "I'll just tell Emma you've
arrived."
Ron bowed to him, and the old Protectioners' form of greeting took Carl
by surprise. He bowed back hesitantly.
"I'd much prefer it if we behave formally whenever we're in public, Carl,
until the case is over," Ron said in a low voice, "much as I appreciate your
friendship. We're dealing with Protectioners, remember."
Carl sighed and nodded. "That's fine by me, Ron," he said. He went to the
camper and put his head in at the door. "Em, Ron's arrived," he told his
wife, "I'd better warn you that he's Mr. Inspector whenever we're in public.
Seriously. We're going over to the house."
"Okay," Emma replied, "I'll be over shortly, soon's I've got the twins
dressed."
Carl and Ron walked up to Henry's door, and Carl knocked loudly. After
a moment Henry opened the door.
"Henry, may I introduce Inspector Ron Velasquez of the Federal Police,"
Carl said, "Inspector, this is Pastor Henry Smith, whom I told you about.
Henry, we're in earnest."
Henry understood Carl's cryptic comment. "Come in, Inspector," he said,
bowing slightly, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Once they were inside, Henry closed the door and Carl felt it was safe to
greet Ron as a good friend. He gave him the hug he'd wanted to give him
when he'd first arrived, then stood back and frowned at him. "Well, Ron, did
you or didn't you drive all night?" he asked fiercely.
Ron grinned but didn't answer. He turned to Henry and shook his hand
warmly. "Well, Gideon, we meet at last!" he said, "Until today I've only ever
known you as a disembodied voice over the radio!"

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"I'm very pleased to meet you, too, Philip," Henry said, "and to know that
you're doing all you can to keep this country headed the right way."
Carl shrugged and went to knock on George's door. It wasn't long before
George, wearing his dressing-gown and leaning on his walking-stick, opened
the door. "Good morning, Carl," he said, "You're up bright and early, as
usual. But I like to sleep in, you know—what's up?"
Carl grinned. "There's someone out in the lounge I'm sure you'll be
pleased to see. How's your Aramaic these days?"
George's face lit up. "Is Ron here already? He must have driven all night!"
He started out towards the lounge, leaning heavily on his walking-stick.
"He won't admit to it," Carl muttered mock-peevishly as he followed
George.
Ron came and gave George a hug as he walked into the room, and the
two of them immediately began talking excitedly in another language.
Henry stared at them, then looked at Carl in surprise.
Carl shrugged. "Aramaic," he said, "Happens automatically. Don't mind
them. Let them be rude. They haven't seen each other for ages. Why don't
we two go and throw some breakfast together?"
Henry and Carl went out to the kitchen just as Emma and the twins
came into the house. Ron greeted them warmly, then Emma took the
children to the kitchen with her. She gave the twins the job of preparing
toast, and helped Carl to cook the rest of the breakfast while Henry set the
dining table.
It was rather crowded at the table when they all sat down to eat, but it
was a happy crowd. They didn't linger over the food, however, for Ron had to
meet his men at their lodgings, and he wanted to hear what Henry and Carl
had to tell him about the situation in Goldridge before going there. Emma
and George offered to clear the table so the others could sit in the lounge
and talk.
The three other men made themselves comfortable in the lounge, Carl
sitting on the sofa next to Ron, and Henry taking one of the armchairs.
"I've been doing some reading research, Philip," Henry began, "and I've
found that some of my suspicions were well-founded."
"Before we go any further," Ron interrupted him, looking from him to Carl
and back, "Allow me to ask you to call me either Ron or Ronald all the
time—not Philip. I know you're used to calling me by that name, but I would
rather the Protectioners know as little as possible about the old
Underground, all right?"
"Fine," Carl said.
"Okay," Henry agreed.
"Good. All right, go on with what you were saying, Henry," Ron said.
"Okay," Henry said, then paused as he changed his mind, "No—I think I'll
start with something else. Just a minute." He hurried out to the kitchen,
and came back carrying a drawer full of papers. He placed it on the coffee
table in front of Ron, and sat down on the sofa. "These are a few bits and
pieces that might give you leads in that extortion case—and some," he said,
"There are some very interesting articles in those newspapers—interesting,

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that is, when they're all put together. Don't look at them now, just put them
in a bag—I'll get you one—and look through them at your leisure, and
together with whatever your men have found so far. But I must warn you,
Ron. There are some awful photographs in that lot—they're in the white
envelopes. Some of them are doctored—the one of Carl, for example—but the
rest are not. I think you can tell the difference. If the photos are not needed
as evidence, please destroy them—burn them. All right?"
"Don't worry, Henry," Ron assured him, "if I don't need them, that'll be
the end of them. I won't let my men see them, either."
Henry went to his room and came back with a travel bag. He held it open
as Ron stuffed the papers and envelopes into it. "Now—back to the other
topic," he said as he sat down again, "Carl told me that he's filled you in on
what happened to Mandy Winters, to the church leaders, and to himself. A
few other things have happened since, notably the attempted kidnapping of
Carl's children last Thursday morning."
Ron's eyebrows went up. "Attempted kidnapping?" he said, "This is a new
twist. Why would they have tried to kidnap Carl's children?"
"That's what we're asking, too," Henry said.
"Maybe you'll find out the answer," Carl added, "It might answer some
other questions too."
Ron took a recorder out of his briefcase and switched it on. "Tell me
about it," he said, and Carl gave him the account of the twins'
disappearance and the search for them. As Ron continued to record he also
told him about Geoff Hillman's involvement in the incident
"See what you can make of that," he said.
"You haven't exactly been bored, here, have you?" Ron said, putting his
recorder down on the coffee table and switching it off.
"We wouldn't have minded a little boredom, rather than all this," Carl
said, grimacing.
"Well, now," Henry continued, "what I did was to write down a list of all
these incidents and then note what was similar about them—quite a bit, as
it turned out. For example, in some instances they clearly used Personality
Pills to gain control over people's actions. Carl reacts very strongly to
those—one of the very rare people who do—so when they used them on him
we knew for sure that they were using Personality Pills. Mandy Winters also
confirmed that she'd put them in my tea. She does remember doing that.
However, in other instances people were obviously being controlled and it
was not by means of Personality Pills, so how were they doing it? For
example, when Hillman accosted Carl at the hospital—how did he get Carl to
agree to go with him? He didn't use hypnosis, he was wearing dark glasses.
Then we have Hillman taking the twins away in record time—and Helen and
Andrew do not normally go off with strangers. There were several other such
incidents. The list is in with those papers, along with a report of my research
and conclusions. Anyway, the day that Mandy was taken to hospital—when
she'd been found behind the church—I started to do some hunting in my
chemistry and other journals because I suddenly remembered something I'd
read about shortly before the Protectorate, and something else in the last

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couple of years. Except during the Protectorate, I've always kept up my

subscriptions to the journals because I'm still interested in what happens in
my old field."
"What was it that you remembered reading about, then?" Ron asked with
interest.
"It was some work that was an offshoot of the research to improve on the
Personality Pills. Some chemists had been working on an aerosol that would
have a similar personality-changing effect. The main problems with it were
its smell and the fact that it caused amnesia, as the earlier pills did. But in
my research I found several articles, most of them by a certain Gerard S.
Dillmon, about Dremasone, which is the active ingredient in the aerosol.
They confirmed all my suspicions."
Carl recalled the title he'd seen on the journal he'd looked at. "And what
was your conclusion?" he asked.
"Lancaster and his mob have been using Dremasone as well as
Personality Pills to get people to do what they want. Dremasone is their
secret weapon. By the way, they've managed to get rid of its smell—it's now
odourless. They also use Lancaster's charisma, mind you—Dremasone isn't
as effective in the open air, especially if there's a breeze, and you can't use it
to control a crowd. I became quite certain that the aerosol was being used
when Hillman lured the twins away but then didn't do anything to stop Blue
taking them back. I have two reason for being sure about that. One, the
children couldn't remember what had happened. Two, Hillman must have
run out of aerosol."
George had come back into the room as Henry was speaking. "How do
you know that?" he asked.
"He couldn't stop Blue and the others, and the twins were quite happy to
go with Blue. If Hillman had been using the aerosol, the children would've
obeyed him, not Blue."
"Now I understand why I left the hospital with Hillman so willingly and
then couldn't really remember much about it," Carl said.
"How long does the effect of the aerosol last?" Ron asked.
"As long as the person's breathing it in," Henry replied, "In other words,
only as long as there's any of it around. It disperses very rapidly."
"That would be why I felt 'normal' almost as soon as Hillman went away,
then," Carl said.
"That's what you'd expect," Henry agreed.
"Who is this Hillman fellow?" Ron asked.
"Gerard S. Dillmon," Carl and Henry said at the same time.
Ron frowned. "That's a serious allegation," he said, "Are you aware that
Dillmon is wanted for crimes he committed when he was Director of the
Experimental Farm? Quite a lot of evidence against him was found when we
went through the records at the Farm, but the man himself seems to have
vanished without a trace."
"I wasn't aware of this," Carl said, "Were you, Henry?"
"No," Henry replied, "but I'm surprised about him vanishing—he's
published articles in several journals in the last few years."

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"Besides, I know what Dillmon looks like, and there's no doubt in my

mind that he and Hillman are the same person," Carl said, "It should be
easy enough to prove, anyway, shouldn't it? Do you have any means of
identifying Dillmon, Ron?"
"One not-very-good photograph, and witnesses who know him, like you,"
Ron answered, "But what Henry has just told us puts forward a new
problem, too. If Hillman—or Dillmon if that's who he is—carries concealed
Dremasone, one must approach him rather cautiously. If one gets too close
he obviously has the upper hand."
"Except that he himself isn't affected by it even though he can't help
breathing it in as well when he uses it," Henry pointed out, "Which meant
there had to be an antidote. I had no idea where to start as far as finding an
antidote goes, so I prayed about it."
"Did you find one?" George asked.
"Yes, and would you believe, Dillmon had actually written about it in one
of his articles!" Henry exclaimed, "But that's not how I found it. As I said, I
prayed about it, and the next day, last Friday, Rick had his encounter with
Hillman in the park. What struck me when Carl told me about it was that
Rick had obviously not been affected by Dremasone. There were two possible
reasons: Hillman wasn't using it, which is unlikely; or Rick somehow had
the antidote in his system."
"You mean, he'd eaten or drunk something that was an antidote to
Dremasone?" Carl asked.
"Yes. And as I was mulling over that," Henry continued, "I recalled that
you hadn't been affected by it either when you preached at Good Shepherd
that first time. Yet I'm sure Hillman must have used it then, because of what
you told me, Carl, about his reactions to the things you said. I get the
impression that they were not quite what he'd have expected from someone
under the influence of Dremasone, and it showed."
"So, then what?" Ron urged.
"I rang Rick and asked him a few questions, and I thought back to what
Carl did just before he left to preach that Monday, and I discovered
something in common. Do you remember what you swallowed just before
you left, Carl?"
"That's two weeks ago, Henry!" Carl excalimed, "Do you really expect me
to remember what I ate back then?"
"Yes," Henry said, grinning.
"You'd better," Ron growled.
"Come on, you've got a good memory," George prompted, "Think back to
what you did."
"All right, then," Carl said shrugging, "Let me think..." He frowned for a
moment as he thought back to the events of his first day in Goldridge. Then
his face cleared. "Yes, I remember now, Henry!" he said, "I had a headache,
and I asked you for a painkiller, which I took just before leaving your
house."

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"That's right!" Henry confirmed, "And Rick had a toothache on Friday

morning, and he took some painkillers—the same sort Carl had taken—
before he went out..."
"The antidote is a painkiller?" Ron asked incredulously.
"That's what it looked like to me, and I decided to try it out," Henry
replied, "So I took some painkillers Saturday morning—even though I didn't
have a headache or a toothache—and I went for a walk. Remember, Carl?
George? I said I would just take a walk over to the church and you warned
me to be careful."
"Yes, that's right," George said.
"When I got to the church I was pleased to see Hillman's car—"
"You were pleased?" Carl interrupted.
"Obviously he had to be there for me to find out if I was right or not,"
Henry said, "How else could I test my hypothesis?"
"Oh, right," Carl said, "Of course. So what did you do, then?"
"I went into the building as noisily as I could, within reason—you know,
clearing my throat, shuffling my feet, banging the door—and Hillman and
Greenstone both hurried out of the office to see who it was. They were rather
suprised to see me, of all people, I can tell you. It was clear I wasn't
welcome, but their manner changed abruptly as they got closer to me, so I
assumed they—or one of them, at least—were using the Dremasone. All of a
sudden they were quite friendly and Greenstone took my arm and started to
lead me toward the office. At that point I thought I'd learned enough, so I
told them that I could see they were busy and I'd come back some other
time, and I pulled my arm from Greenstone's grasp, and left in rather a
hurry!"
"You were a bit breathless when you got back," Carl remarked.
"But you wouldn't tell us what had happened," George added.
"No, I wanted to get it all sorted out clearly before I told anyone about it,"
Henry said.
"You'll have to tell me what brand of painkiller it is so we can be prepared
too," Ron advised.
"It's not the brand that matters—it's the active ingredient," Henry pointed
out, "As I said before, it's actually mentioned in one of Dillmon's articles!
When my experiment confirmed my hypothesis, I looked up all those articles
again, and sure enough, there was the painkiller!"
"Well, Henry, congratulations!" Ron said, "You've certainly produced some
very interesting and useful material. It will make our job an awful lot easier!
But I've just seen the time—I'd better go and meet with my men and find out
what they've been up to." He stood up, put his recorder back in his
briefcase, and picked up the bag of papers Henry had given him.
"Just a minute," Henry said, "I think it might be a good idea if you take
these as well." He fetched some of his journals from the sideboard and
added them to the bag.
"Thank you, all, for your help," Ron said, "I'm not sure when I'll be in
touch again, but it should be soon. Please pray for us. This is a tricky case."

215