Science Fiction: Welcome to my Worlds

witches itching to lead you astray. If any have the powers they claim… they certainly don’t come from God.” He shook his head at them slowly to show his disappointment. Then shook his finger and roared, “YOU KNOW WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS about Diviners, Witches and Sorcerers!” He heard many cries of “Burn them!” over the general noise. He waited a minute for their belated enthusiasm to quiet then impatiently chopped it off with a gesture. The silence was immediate.

Rather more timidly than usual, Ron heard Dr Parker ask, “What should we do Pastor Hoagie?”

“There are things you can do.” He motioned for his assistants to begin passing out pamphlets. By now they should be much more receptive to the suggestions contained within. Looking into the active camera and waving a copy of the pamphlet he added, “Those of you at home may access this information on our website at the address shown on your screen.” He made a universally encompassing gesture. “My friends, there is only One True Way to the kingdom of God. All others must come to the Way or…” he shrugged, “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

their own ends or line their own pockets?” Only a few scattered hands were raised hesitantly. “I know you’ve seen them. You might as well be honest… God is watching too.” Over half the hands were now raised. He had already made sure that four such insults to God were discredited and others were in the works. “You see this every day… and you do nothing.”

“How many of you watch the news and see those of other beliefs—particularly Muslims—spit on Christianity and call for what they refer to as a Holy War?” Nearly every hand was in the air. “How many of you realize these people are not acquainted with God—and have no conception of the real God—but merely follow the lunatic ravings of some who pretend to be Holy Men?”

Again a sea of hands. As he spoke, a contingent of his elite commandos was en route to take out the worst of the Muslim spiritual leaders. By tomorrow it would hit the news. “You see this nearly every night on the news… and you do nothing.”

A murmur of surprised agreement rippled through the huge cathedral. “How many of you have called a Psychic Hotline or consulted one in person or through your home computer recently?” Without thinking, over half the congregation raised their hands. Ron made no effort to hide his disgust. “These are false prophets. Many are

difficult, he knew. He raised his hand and struck the podium a hard blow with the flat of his hand making it CRACK into the microphone. “Before we ascend to the Throne of Heaven we must cleanse the earth!” The shocked silence was total. He spoke slowly and distinctly, confident he had their full attention. “You wouldn’t leave your trash on the ground after a picnic, would you?”

He had to struggle not to smile as he saw a small boy bend down quickly to pick up a gum wrapper he’d discarded and slip it into his pocket. Would that his son were so attentive and obedient. Ron could see him sitting there beside his mother—who had always been an asset to his ministry—with that sullen look on his face he always wore in church. Ron just couldn’t figure where the boy got his stubborn, belligerent streak. And his lack of reverence for the Lord.

“I know none of you are going to be waiting in line for the Beast to stamp his mark on your foreheads.” Ron smacked his own for emphasis. “But it doesn’t seem to register that many of you do things nearly as bad every day.” He nodded at the surprised murmurs from the crowd.
“True as the gospel of John.” He waved his finger in general at all of them. “How many of you have seen television evangelists who twist the Word of God to suit

to make sure the rest of his audience could too. “Many of you know the End of Days is nearly at hand.” He sliced off the murmur of approval with a gesture. “But how many of you know what that means?” A few eager hands raised in the congregation including one of his best contributors in the front row who loved the limelight. Ron gestured for an attendant to hand him a microphone.

“We must prepare to meet our maker.”

“Very good Dr. Parker.” Once again he swept the crowd with his gaze searching for signs of understanding. “The key word is prepare. God expects more from the truly faithful.”
Interpreting his words as another request for money, he saw Dr. Parker get a big smile and make a show of flashing some thousand dollar bills from his wallet where those sitting around him could see. “Money is a useful tool in the service of the Lord, my friends, but this time I ask you for more than mere money.”

He could see Dr. Parker’s smile fade to a look of complete puzzlement… something reflected now in many faces of the congregation. Money was easy. They were used to giving and they could see the results, such as the magnificent church they were standing in. Getting them motivated to do something—even in the service of their Lord—would be much more

Chapter Four

Ron couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment in the new church as he looked out on the thousands of new faces in the crowd. Many were standing, making enthusiastic praise gestures to their brethren as they spoke about the Glory of God and their place in the hierarchy as members of his ministry. He could see there were only a very few seats still open.

Soon even this huge cathedral would be outgrown. There were already people at work finding the best location in Chicago for his next church. He stood at the entrance to the stage and let their spirit soak into him for another minute before stepping out. Their roar of approval hit him like a wave and, behind that, he sensed a Presence that could only be the Holy Spirit itself.

Ron fairly floated to the podium, buoyed by the support he would need for this nights work. Hidden from sight of the congregation, six cameras were ready to carry his words to the remotest corner of the world. Raising his hands, Ron was gratified by the instant silence. He swept his gaze over the crowd who seemed to barely breathe as they waited in anticipation. Then his attention narrowed to the camera with a red beacon above its lens. This crowd could feel his presence. He needed