"I thought as much," Justin nodded. "I have also considered what such a removal of guilt, as you call it, would do to our world. It would not only mean the end of Christianity--it would mean it never had a beginning. For a Christ without his martyrdom would no longer be a Christ." "I had no idea you'd be shocked," said Ortine, puzzled. "I'm not shocked," replied Justin. "What has me baffled, Ortine, is your true purpose. You say that the salvation of our world rests upon elimination of all but those you choose to call sane men--the dull plodding fellows who never upset applecarts. Are you sure that these human vegetables are the ones to make a world worth living in?" "Possibly not," said Ortine, unabashed. "But they will at least make a world in which people can live. Consider, Justin, you are one of them--a prime example. Or you were until very recently." "I'm well aware of that." Justin shot a quick tender glance at Deborah. He added, "As a matter of fact I'm just beginning to understand what a living death I've been enduring." "A pity you've changed," Ortine told him. He sighed. "Ortine," said Justin, "you say you cannot control humans. Yet I feel certain that I have recently seen you twice in human guise--once as Will Molineux in Sam Adams' house, the other as Corinne Forrester in my own office." He looked at Ortine's cigarette, recalled Corinne's Cuban cigarettes, added, "You're quite a smoker, aren't you?" * * * * * Ortine hesitated, then said, "It's a pity I couldn't put this experiment into work with a finish date about fifty years before your time, Justin. Dr. Phillips would have been ideal. Unfortunately I must use all of the lapsed time of human history or the whole procedure is worthless--it must be complete and simultaneous. Which is why you and"--with a polite nod--"Deborah were able to make such a botch of it. "You're quite right about my appearances, of course," Ortine went on. "There are a few people, in whom my strain is especially strong, folk I can actually control to some degree. Naturally I have tried to put such persons in positions close to my probable subjects." "How did you happen to take up the role of Satan?" Justin asked him quietly. Behind him Deborah gasped again and Justin reached out a hand for her to hold. A faint stirring of her fingers suggested she must be crossing herself. Ortine looked distressed. He said, "Really, there was nothing deliberate about it. It's something that--well, it just happened." He dropped his cigarette onto the floor, pulled out his case, offered a smoke to Justin. "Consider my mission. To perform it successfully it was vital that I should become intimately acquainted with humanity not merely on the surface but inside, where fears and motives dwell. How better could I conduct such a delicate test than by testing people? And how better test them than by trying the strength of their so-called decent impulses?"