“We’ve been able to keep things fairly quiet. Paul is marvelous with the editors ... several have even joined us, by the way ... secretly, of course.” “What’s the membership now?” Iris gestured. “No one knows. We have thirty Centers in the United States and each day they receive hundreds of new Cavites. I suspect there are at least four million by now.” I gasped, beginning to recover at last from the heat, from my unexpected crisis of love. “I had no idea things were going so fast.” “Too fast. We haven’t enough trained people to look after the Centers and on top of that we’ve got to set up new Centers. Paul has broken the country up into districts, all very methodical: so many Centers per district each with a Resident in charge. Stokharin is taking care of the clinical work.” “Where’s the money coming from?” “In bushels from heaven,” Iris smiled. “We leave all that up to Paul. I shouldn’t be surprised if he counterfeits it. One thing I know, though, I _must_ get back to New York soon, to the school. I shouldn’t really have gone off in the middle of everything but I was tired and John wanted company so I came.” “How is he?” “As you see: calm. I don’t believe he ever thinks of any of our problems. He never talks about them; never reads the reports Paul sends him. He seldom reads the attacks from the churches and we get several a day, not to mention threatening mail. It’s got so bad that we now have full-time bodyguards.” “You think people are _seriously_ threatening him?” “I don’t know how serious they are but we can’t take chances. Fortunately, almost no one knows we’re here and, so far, no cranks have got through from the mainland. We get our groceries and mail brought in by boat every other day from Key Largo. Otherwise, we’re marooned here.” I looked about me for some sign of the guards but they were elsewhere: a Cuban woman glumly vacuuming in the next room was the only visible stranger. Cave abandoned his maps and atlases long enough to tell me how much the dialogues pleased him. “I wish I could put it down like you do. I can only say it when people listen.” “You feel I’ve been accurate?” He nodded solemnly. “Oh, yes ... it’s just as I’ve always said it, only written down.” I realized that he’d already assumed full responsibility (and credit, should there be any) for my composition; I accepted his presumption with amusement. Only Stokharin seemed aware of the humor of the situation. I caught him staring at me with a shrewd expression; he looked quickly away and his mouth was rigid as he tried not to smile. I liked him at that moment: we were the only two, evidently, who had not been possessed by Cave. I felt like a conspirator.