"Citizen Abbot, aren't there bound to be contradictions in doctrine among the various religions which make up your faith?" "There _were_. But the forgers of our present Church threw out all controversial matter. We wanted agreement, not dissension. We preserve only certain colorful facets of those early great religions; facets with which people can identify. There have never been any schisms in our religion, because we are all-acceptant. One may believe anything one wishes, as long as it preserves the holy spirit of Mankind Incarnate. For our worship, you see, is the true worship of Man. And the spirit we recognize is the spirit of the divine and holy Good." "Would you define Good for me, Citizen Abbot?" "Certainly. Good is that force within us which inspires men to acts of conformity and subservience. The worship of Good is essentially the worship of oneself, and therefore the only true worship. The self which one worships is the ideal social being: the man content in his niche in society, yet ready to creatively advance his status. Good is gentle, since it is a true reflection of the loving and pitying universe. Good is continually changing in its aspects, although it comes to us in the ... You have a strange look on your face, young man." "I'm sorry, Citizen Abbot. I believe I heard that sermon, or one very much like it." "It is true wherever one hears it." "Of course. One more question, sir. Could you tell me about the religious instruction of children?" "That duty is performed for us by the robot-confessors." "Yes?" "The notion came to us from the ancient root-faith of Transcendental Freudianism. The robot-confessor instructs children and adults alike. It hears their problems within the social matrix. It is their constant friend, their social mentor, their religious instructor. Being robotic, the confessors are able to give exact and unvarying answers to any question. This aids the great work of Conformity." "I can see that it does. What do the human priests do?" "They watch over the robot-confessors." "Are these robot-confessors present in the closed classrooms?" "I am not competent to answer that." "They are, aren't they?" "I truly do not know. The closed classrooms are closed to abbots as well as other adults." "By whose order?" "By order of the Chief of the Secret Police." "I see.... Thank you, Citizen Abbot Boeren." * * * * * (_Citizen Enyen Dravivian, age 43, occupation government employee. A narrow-faced, slit-eyed man, old and tired beyond his years._) "Good afternoon, sir. You say that you are employed by the government?" "Correct." "Is that the state or the federal government?" "Both." "I see. And have you been in this employ for very long?" "Approximately eighteen years." "Yes, sir. Would you mind telling me what, specifically, your job is?" "Not at all. I am the Chief of the Secret Police." "You are--I see, sir. That's very interesting. I--"