The Mor Telepath sat at the station by the communicatins console. They had been in orbit for more than a day preparing to communicate with The Ancient One, who lived on the primitive world below. The telepath could still not understand why the primitives did not recognize The Ancient One's abilities or understand what he was trying to teach them. But that was not really his concern. The Ancient One was providing them with historical knowledge that filled in huge gaps in the galaxy's history, made sense of many legends, and archeological finds that before his contact, had bewildered their best minds.
A Squig swung by on their overhead travelway, and The Telepath's thoughts were distracted for a moment. Being a joint research vessel it was equipped for the needs of several life forms. This particular Squig was The Ship's Commander, who was answering a summons to the bridge.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Unidentified ship coming in," said one of the other officers. "We're not sure if it's Union. It looks like a crystillian starliner, but its propulsion units put out the wrong patterns."
The Commander looked at the screens. The approaching ship was getting very close. "Maybe we'd better increase our shields," The Commander commented. "Order battle stations."
Before the officers could respond, ten deadly beams of intense energy leaped from the approaching ship. Even if the little research vessel had had its battle shields up, it is doubtful it would have survived. The startled Telepath sent out an instant of transmission before the fire consuming the ship reached him.
On the planet below, The Ancient One, returning from one of his menial chores, looked up, unconsciously drawn by the death cry that had reached him. He saw the firery streak crossing the sky, heading east, toward the open sea.
"Strange meteorite!" he thought. "never seen one flare double like that."
He did not realize that what he saw was the ship's initial destruction and then its secondary ignition as it plunged into the atmosphere. The second ship slowly took up the first ship's position, and its scanners turned to the world below. They, too, sought The Ancient One, but for a far different purpose.
The Ancient One entered his home, patting one of the large animals that he and his mate kept for companionship because they had no children.
"I just saw a beautiful meteorite!" The Ancient One told his mate. "Haven't seen one that big in years."
Snapping his fingers, he motioned a second animal out of his chair and sat down at his desk to do a little work before going into rest cycle.
Meanwhile, in The World To Come, The Mor Telepath was trying to adjust. They did not have as great an understanding of The Afterlife as The Ancient One, their race not being that religious, but he had learned enough from The Ancient One to understand what was happening. He gathered the crew, and when he was sure they were safe he led them down to The Spirit World that shared the same space as the primitive world where The Ancient One lived. He did not land in a section controlled by The Ancient One's people, and it took him some time to find them.
In the meantime, several days had passed for The Ancient One. One evening as he was preparing to sleep, the aliens made contact. As usual, he and their telepath exchanged forms, the telepath speaking with his mate, while The Ancient One talked with the crew using the Telepath's body. The aliens called themselves Organic Computers. They resembled the legendary Centaurs except they were reptillian, they had four legs, two arms, and a neckless head sitting on their shoulders. They said they were on a peaceful information gathering mission for their masters, who could not leave their own world.
The Ancient One politely listened and answered their questions, but was suspicious. The telepath was in a small, enclosed room surrounded by a field that was obviously intended to contain psychic power.
"If these people were friendly," thought The Ancient One, "why are they trying to contain me? And, why are they trying to hide things in their minds?"
No other alien visitors had ever tried to deceive him. Back in his home the telepath was having trouble adjusting to The Ancient One's mind, and conversing with his mate. This was not unusual. The Ancient One's mind was very complex, having layer upon layer of languages from many existences. It was often hard for a stranger to get into the current flow. Sometimes it was even hard for The Ancient One!
The next morning The Ancient One mentioned to his mate his uneasiness about the new visitors.
"There's something wrong with them," he said, "something I don't like. They think they can imprison me, but I can break out any time I want. I'll just play along for now, 'til I find out what they're up to."
He got ready for work and waited for his ride, with one of his co-workers. He arrived at the entertainment center where he worked, and ushered the rehersing girls off the dance floor, got out his wax and buffing equipment, replaced what bulbs needed to be changed, and proceeded to wax and buff the floor. When he got done, it shone like a mirror. Then, he checked the rest of his crew, making sure the dining room was done.
The boss came by and complimented him on his work. "I'm gonna hate the day when you leave, Reverend!" the boss laughed. "I was a little hesitant in hiring you, but I'm sure glad I did! You're the best maintenance man I've ever had!"
The Ancient One did not mind the employees calling him this nickname. Many of them thought him rather unusual because he did not smoke or drink, use foul language, or make passes at the dancers. They had begun using this nickname for him even before they found out he was a religious teacher.
"They're still having trouble with those fans in the kitchen," said the manager, "the new ones will be in in two days. See if you can keep these old ones going just a little longer, will you?"
"There's not much hope," said The Ancient One, "but I'll clean the dust out and oil them. That might give them a little more life."
"If anybody can make something work," said the manager, "YOU can! I've never seen anything like it! And I've been in this damn business forty years.
The Ancient One went out and began working on the fans. He was just starting on the second one when one of his workers in The Spirit World brought him an unexpected visitor. The others in the kitchen could not see either the young man dressed like late-age Viking, or The Mor Telepath, but The Ancient One could. He existed in both realms, simultaneously. The Telepath quickly told him all that had transpired. The Ancient One's expression must've betrayed his feelings, for the head cook came over and stood at the bottom of the ladder.
"Hey, you all right, Reverend?" he asked. "Don't you go falling again."
"I'm alright," The Ancient One replied, shaking off the sorrow that had come over him. He returned to his work trying to think of a gentle way to tell his mate the news. She had been extremely fond of the scout ship's crew. This would hurt her very much. As The Ancient One was preparing to leave for home, storing his things in his locker, one of the dishwashers coming on began to joke with him.
"Hey, Reverend, if you've got all these powers you're supposed to have, how come you're not rich and don't have a car and fancy duds, but have to walk so much?"
The Ancient One laughed. "I have," he said, "all I need to do the work I'm doing. Each of The Lords' Workers' Power is developed for certain tasks. Mine is to write The Lords' History, to erase the shame our enemies have given them with their lies. That is my purpose. There are others who are accumulating riches for The Lords. When the time comes that they are needed, they will come forth. Until then I have all I need. I am rich in ways that you cannot imagine."
"Well, I'd rather have plenty of money so I can have everything I need to impress the ladies!" the young man answered.
The Ancient One smiled. "You already have what you need," he said, "you have simply not learned to use it. Some day you will learn material riches are not what you think they are."
The Ancient One left the locker room and was headed for the back door when he saw the entertainment manager slip up behind one of the girls and grab her in a hug. The girl broke away, angry.
"Dammit!" she said, "How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?"
The manager made another grab for her as she backed away. "Loosen up, honey," he said, "I'm only teasing."
"Peter!" The Ancient One snapped. "The Lady said leave her alone! Now, get your grubby hands off her. Just because a woman works here, doesn't give you the right to fondle her. Leave her alone!"
The entertainment manager spun around, angry. "Dammit, Reverend, I'm getting sick and tired of you! Nobody can have any fun with you around. I'm a manager here. You don't tell me what to do! You're only an employee."
"We can see what the labor board would have to say about that!" said The Ancient One. "The lady's got a witness if she wants to file sexual harrassment charges."
The manager stepped closer, closing his fists. "I don't like you threatening me!" he snapped. His eyes met the Ancient One's, and the cold emptiness that met him made him back away. He knew The Ancient One's reputation for violence if attacked.
"I've had enough," the manager said. "I'm going to the office. Either you're gone tomorrow, or I am!"
He stomped off and The Ancient One continued on to the back door.
"Thanks, Reverend," the woman said as he passed.
"Mine is to serve," The Ancient One answered with a smile.
The quiet walk home gave The Ancient One time to contemplate his problem. As he entered the house his pets jumped all over him, sniffing his tote bag to see if he had brought them any treats from work. This particular day the cook had saved him several nice pieces of left over roast beef from the night before. A good portion of this went to the animals, while The Ancient One's mate made sauce for the rest and it became the main portion of their afternoon meal. The Ancient One spoke casually as they ate.
"You know that big meteor I saw the other night? It wasn't a meteor at all. It was the Squig research vessel, the one with the whale-like creatures you like so much. These Organic Computers, or whatever they are, blew them away. There were no survivors. Over three-hundred of them, just blown away."
The Ancient One's mate put down her fork and for a moment her eyes glistened. Then she asked, "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know," The Ancient One told her, "Right now, we simply play along 'til I can figure out what these guys are up to, and how to deal with them. I wish there was some way we could reach some of The Squig's native agents. They have transmitters, and can call for help. They're probably unaware of what has happened."
The Ancient One's mate was about to say something when the phone rang. The Ancient One went in and picked it up. The familiar voice of his manager answered. "Sorry to bother you, Reverend," he said, "but do you have any meetings or anything tonight?"
"Nothing schedualed," The Ancient One told him.
"I know you've already got overtime," the manager said, "but our entertainment manager just took a walk, and a couple of other people didn't come in. Can you come in and play matre'd until closing? I promise I'll get you a ride home. The assistant manager can pick you up in 15 minutes."
The Ancient One was already very tired, but he knew the situation must be desperate or the manager wouldn't ask.
"O.k.," he said, "I'll be ready when he gets here."
"Thanks," the manager said, "really appreciate it."
"I gotta go back in," The Ancient One told his mate. "Grab my good clothes while I shave."
"Again?" said his mate. "I hardly get to see you."
The Ancient One shrugged. "We need the money," he said, "donations have been slow this month."
The Ancient One changed and went back to work.

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