"Daniel Keys Moran - Lord November" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moran Daniel Keys)

and invisible.
And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of His Father before all
worlds, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, Begotten, not made, being of one substance with
the Father; by Whom all things were made.
Who for us men, and for our salvation, came down from Heaven; and was incarnate by the
Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man.
And was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate; He suffered and was buried.
And the third day He rose again according to the Scriptures.
And ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of the Father.
And he shall come again with glory to judge both the quick and the dead; Whose kingdom shall
have no end.
And I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Lord, the Giver of Life, who Proceedeth from the Father;
Who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified; Who spake by the
Prophets.
I believe in one Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.
I acknowledge one Baptism for the remission of sins.
I look for the resurrection of the dead.
And for the life of the world to come.
Amen.

An hour later they had drunk all of Bear's coffee. Father Michael sat quietly in his chair, arms crossed
across his chest, coat drawn tightly about himself.
"Yesterday," Bear began.
Father Michael nodded.
"When they blessed us--that vicious happy shit scares me worse than anything that's ever happened to
me in my life."
Father Michael said quietly, "It scared me too. But it was just some form of electric ecstasy, I
imagine."
"No. It--" Bear searched for words. "It wasn't electric ecstasy, Father. I tried juice on an induction
helmet; it scared me and I didn't do it again, but it wasn't anything like this. The juice is impersonal,
Father. It doesn't care about you. But that damn blessing...could almost make a man believe in God."
"Most of us want to believe, Bear. In Something. God the Father, or the Goddess, Allah or Jehovah
or Krishna...you few who need to be convinced are true rarities."
"It wasn't electric ecstasy, Mike. Whatever it was..." Corona's voice took on a puzzled note. "It could
make a man believe."
Father Michael nodded. In the last twenty-four hours he'd told people who asked him, more times
now than he could remember, that the alien blessing had been some sort of broadcast electric ecstasy,
certainly nothing more. But he did not believe it himself. He remembered that moment, would remember
it until his death, the rolling, thunderous, lasting joy that had seized them all with the invocation of the alien
god Haristi.
Only death itself could erase that memory of joy.

Monday, October 10, 2049: The suiting room was too small for the number of people that it held,
and the ceiling glowpaint was too bright and too harsh.
Embedded in the east wall of the suiting room, a five-meter wide window looked out across the dead,
cold Ganymean surface.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
It seemed more than a bit cliched; but there was comfort in the words, and he could not think of
another psalm that was more appropriate. He could see the Bible in which those words were printed,
Father Donnelly's cracked and faded red leather Bible; not the one which he held now, the black Bible