“Some of the doctors are putting two and two together. But nobody has been able to prove anything. What I really need is evidence from his own labs that Billybob knows exactly what he is doing. Along with proof of his other scams.”

“Such as?”

“Such as embezzling millions of bucks from insurance companies by selling them phony lists of church members. Such as pocketing a large donation from the Anti-Defamation League. He’s still hustling, even though he’s come a long way from banknote-baptisms.” She glanced at Bobby. “Never heard of that? You palm a bill during a baptism. That way the blessing of God gets diverted to the money rather than the kiddie. Then you send the note out into circulation, and it’s supposed to return to you with interest… and to make especially sure it works, of course, you hand the money over to your preacher. Word is Billybob picked up that endearing habit in Colombia, where he was working as a drug runner.”

Bobby looked shocked. “You don’t have any proof of that.”

“Not yet,” she said grimly. “But I’ll get it.”

“How?”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about…”

He looked mildly stunned.

She said, “Sorry. I’m lecturing you, aren’t I?”

“A little.”

“I do that when I’m angry.”

“Kate, you are angry a lot…”

“I feel entitled. I’ve been on this guy’s trail for months.”

A drone robot floated over their heads, bearing sets of virtual Glasses-and-Gloves. “These Glasses-and-Gloves have been devised by RevelationLand Inc., in conjunction with OurWorld Corporation, for the full experience of RevelationLand. Your credit card or personal account will be billed automatically per online minute. These Glasses-and-Gloves…”

Kate reached up and snagged two sets. “Show time.”

Bobby shook his head. “I have implants. I don’t need…”

“Billybob has his own special way of disabling rival technologies.” She lifted the Glasses to her head. “Are you ready?”

“I guess.”

She felt a moist sensation around her eye sockets, as the Glasses extruded membranes to make a light-tight junction with her flesh; it felt like cold wet mouths sucking at her face.

She was instantly suspended in darkness and silence.

Now Bobby materialized beside her, floating in space, holding her hand. His Glasses-and-Gloves were, of course, invisible.

And soon her vision cleared further. People were hovering all around them, off as far as she could see, like a cloud of dust motes. They were all dressed in white robes and holding big, gaudy palm leaves — even to Bobby and herself, she found. And they were shining in the light that streamed from the object that hung before them.

It was a cube; huge, perfect, shining sun-bright, utterly dwarfing the flock of hovering people.

“Wow,” Bobby said again.

“Revelation Chapter Twenty-one,” she murmured. “Welcome to the New Jerusalem.” She tried to throw away her palm leaf, but another simply appeared in her hand. “Just remember,” she said, “the only real thing here is the steady flow of money out of your pockets and into Billybob’s.”

Together, they fell toward the light.

The wall before her was punctured by windows and a line of three arched doorways. She could see a light within, shining even more brightly than the exterior of the building. Scaled against the building’s dimensions, the walls looked as thin as paper.

And still they fell toward the cube, until it loomed before them, gigantic, like some immense ocean liner.

Bobby said, “How big is this thing?”

She murmured, “Saint John tells us it is a cube twelve thousand stadia to each side.”

“And twelve thousand stadia is…”

“About two thousand kilometres. Bobby, this city of God is the size of a small moon. It’s going to take a long time to fall in. And we’ll be charged for every second, of course.”

“In that case I wish I’d had a hot dog. You know, my father mentions you a lot.”

“He’s angry at me.”

“Hiram is, umm, mercurial. I think on some level he found you stimulating.”

“I suppose I should be flattered.”

“He liked the phrase you used. Electronic anaesthesia. I have to admit I didn’t fully understand.”

She frowned at him, as together they drifted toward the pale grey light. “You really have led a sheltered life, haven’t you, Bobby?”

“Most of what you call “brain-tinkering” is beneficial, surely. Like Alzheimer studs.” He eyed her. “Maybe I’m not as out of it as you think I am. A couple of years ago I opened a hospital wing endowed by OurWorld. They were helping obsessive-compulsive sufferers by cutting out a destructive feedback loop between two areas of the brain.”

“The caudate nucleus and the amygdala.” She smiled. “Remarkable how we’ve all become experts in brain anatomy. I’m not saying it’s all harmful. But there is a compulsion to tinker. Addictions are nullified by changes to the brain’s reward circuitry. People prone to rage are pacified by having parts, of their amygdala — essential to emotion — burned out. Workaholics, gamblers, even people habitually in debt are ‘diagnosed’ and ‘cured.’ Even aggression has been linked to a disorder of the cortex.”

“What’s so terrible about all of that?”

“These quacks, these reprogramming doctors, don’t understand the machine they are tinkering with. It’s like trying to figure out the functions of a piece of software by burning out the chips of the computer it’s running on. There are always side-effects. Why do you think it was so easy for Billybob to find a football stadium to take over? Because organized spectator sport has been declining since 2015: the players no longer fought hard enough.”

He smiled. “That doesn’t seem too serious.”

“Then consider this. The quality and quantity of original scientific research has been plummeting for two decades. By ‘curing’ fringe autistics, the doctors have removed the capacity of our brightest people to apply themselves to tough disciplines. And the area of the brain linked to depression, the subgenual cortex, is also associated with creativity — the perception of meaning. Most critics agree that the arts have gone into a reverse. Why do you think your father’s virtual rock bands are so popular, seventy years after the originals were at their peak?”

“But what’s the alternative? If not for reprogramming, the world would be a violent and savage place.”

She squeezed his hand. “It may not be evident to you in your gilded cage, but the world out there still is violent and savage. What we need is a machine that will let us see the other guy’s point of view. If we can’t achieve that, than all the reprogramming in the world is futile.”

He said wryly, “You really are an angry person, aren’t you?”

“Angry? At charlatans like Billybob? At latter-day phrenologists and lobotomisers and Nazi doctors who are screwing with our heads, maybe even threatening the future of the species, while the world comes to pieces around us? Of course I’m angry. Aren’t you?”

He returned her gaze, puzzled. “I guess I have to think about it… Hey. We’re accelerating.”

The Holy City loomed before her. The wall was like a great upended plain, with the doors shining rectangular craters before her.

The swarms of people were plunging in separating streams toward the great arched doors, as if being drawn into maelstroms. Bobby and Kate swooped toward the central door. Kate felt an exhilarating headlong rush as the door arch opened wide before her, but there was no genuine sense of motion here. If she thought about it, she could still feel her body, sitting quietly in its stiff-backed stadium seat.

But still, it was some ride.

In a heartbeat they had flown through the doorway, a glowing tunnel of grey-white light, and they were skimming over a surface of shining gold.