But this man was only a diversion. From the other side of the street a woman stepped out and threw a small round object. A grenade!

It arched up and down, the end of its trajectory Jesus, standing up in the front of the vehicle in his scarlet robe, seemingly unaware of the second attacker.

Orme shouted a warning.

He did not have time to think of the irony of his trying to warn the man whom he was planning to kill. Nor did he have time to think that when the bomb went off, he, too, would be killed.

He rose from the seat and leaped out, passing from the insular field of Martian gravity into Earth's. As a result, he started out as if he would jump twenty feet from a standing start but the arc he'd intended to make through the air curved abruptly downward at almost a right angle. Nevertheless, his left hand, reaching out, smacked into the hard metal object. He struck the ground, holding the grenade with both hands to his belly, his face and knees sliding on the pavement.

There was no time to think about the irony of this. He would die a martyr but not for the true Jesus - for the false.

There was time after all.

'Why did I do it?' he mumbled.

He was in the midst of a vast roar. The hot sun was blazing in his eyes. Then a head moved between him and the glaring light, and he saw the smiling face of Jesus.

'It didn't explode?' Orme said.

'It did,' Jesus said. 'You died. Your belly and genitals and legs were blown from your trunk. Your hands and the lower parts of your arms were shredded.'

He bent down and touched Orme on the forehead. Much of Orme's numbness, feeling of unreality, and weakness faded.

'There. That should take care of it.'

Orme sat up. His body was intact. It was also naked. Nearby were some shreds of his uniform. By the side of the vehicle from which he had leaped was his laser-gun. Where was the blood? Dissipated by Jesus as he had boiled away the blood of the ram on Mars? Of course!

But a few feet away soldiers were putting into plastic sacks the bloodied remnants of flesh and bone. He thought he was going to vomit, but Jesus touched him again and the nausea flowed away.

Bronski and Shirazi and the Russian ambassador were standing to one side, all as pale as if they, not he, had become corpses. The TV crews were working away, some cameras pointed at him, some at Jesus, some at the crowd.

He thought, the blast of the grenade should have made me deaf, too. But Jesus would have restored my sense of hearing.

A Krsh soldier came up bearing a large blanket.

'Rise, man, and cover your nakedness,' Jesus said.

Orme obeyed and wrapped the blanket around him.

Jesus turned and walked to the car and picked up the laser-gun. Returning, he extended it to Orme.

'You should have had it in a holster instead of concealing it under your uniform. How did you expect to get it out quickly if you had to use it?'

Orme shook his head. 'I can't carry that and keep the blanket up, too. Besides...'

The large black eyes and the slightly crooked smile of Jesus showed that he knew. He knew!

Jesus said, 'Out of nothing I made flesh and restored your body. This was recorded, and now the whole world has seen. Will there be any unbelievers left on the face of this planet? Yes, there will. But millions who did not believe until a few moments ago will now believe. The others are still the lost sheep.'

'Master,' Orme murmured, 'am I forgiven?'

Jesus indicated a man and a woman. One was he who had shot at Jesus, and probably hit him, and the woman was the one who had thrown the grenade. They were unwounded, but holes in their clothing showed where bullets had penetrated. Though surrounded by police, they were not handcuffed.

'They, too, are forgiven,' Jesus said. 'I raised them from the dead so that the whole world might know that I can be merciful. Now they will probably be among my most devoted disciples. If not, they will at least be witnesses.'

Jesus put his mouth close to Orme's ear.

'Doubt no more. But if you do, you'll betray yourself to me before you can betray me. I don't think that you will doubt again. However, I will not be merciful the next time. It is not fitting to tempt the Holy One too many times. Or the Son of Man.

'Now, tell me, do you know why you chose at the last moment, when you thought there would be no more moments, to sacrifice your life to save me, who does not need saving?'

'I don't know,' Orme said. 'Perhaps it was because, somewhere deep in my mind, was the thought that it made no difference if you were this energy-being and not the original Jesus. The Father uses many hands to do His work, and He sometimes works in a subtle circuitous manner. If He chose a nonhuman creature from a far-off planet to be the Messiah, just as He chose the Krsh to be among the People of the Covenant, then... But are you truly... !'

Jesus raised his hand to indicate that Orme should stop.

'The true Messiah is the one the Father chooses to be the Messiah. Now, let us go into the holy city.'

'But, Master, I gave a man a letter telling what I planned to do. It will do you great harm if it's published.'

Jesus kissed Orme on his lips, and said, 'Let it be made public. The world saw what you did. Tomorrow, we will be rested, and we will advance the work of the Father one more pace. There is great evil to overcome. The days will be dark and the nights darker. But, in the end, there is the light that all the Children of Light Seek.'