Stranger in a Strange Land

with a battering ram and twenty stout men I might try it. But I wouldn't count on it. Jill, that door would do credit to a bank vault-it's just been prettied up to match the room. I've got one much like it for the fireproof off my study."
                "What do We do?"
                "Beat on it, if you want to. You'll just bruise your hands. I'm going to see what's keeping friend Boone-"
                But when Jubal looked out into the hallway he saw Boone just returning. "Sorry," Boone said. "Had to have the Cherubim hunt up your driver. He was in the Happiness Room, having a bite of lunch. But your cab is waiting for you, just where I said."
                "Senator," Jubal said, "we've got to leave now. Will you be so kind as to tell Bishop Digby?"
                Boone looked perturbed. "I could phone him, if you insist. But I hesitate to do so-and I simply cannot walk in on a private audience."
                "Then phone him. We do insist."
                But Boone was saved the embarrassment as, just then, the inner door opened and Mike walked out. Jill took one look at his face and shrilled, "Mike! Are you all right?"
                "Yes, Jill."
                "I'll tell the Supreme Bishop you're leaving," said Boone and went past Mike into the smaller room. He reappeared at once. "He's left," he announced. "There's a back way into his study." Boone smiled. "Like cats and cooks, the Supreme Bishop goes without saying. That's a joke. He says that 'good-by's' add nothing to happiness in this world, so he never says good-by. Don't be offended."
                "We aren't. But we'll say good-by now-and thank you for a most interesting experience. No, don't bother to come down; I'm sure we can find our way out."

    XXIV

                ONCE THEY WERE IN THE AIR Jubal said, "Well, Mike, what did you think of it?"
                Mike frowned. "I do not grok."
                "You aren't alone, son. What did the Bishop have to say?"
                Mike hesitated a long time, finally said, "My brother Jubal, I need to ponder until grokking is."
                "Ponder right ahead, son. Take a nap. That's what I'm going to do."
                Jill said suddenly, "Jubal? How do they get away with it?"
                "Get away with what?"
                "Everything. That's not a church-it's a madhouse."
                It was Jubal's turn to ponder before answering. "No, Jill, you're mistaken. It is a church - . . and the logical eclecticism of our times."
                "Huh?"
                "The New Revelation and all doctrines and practices under it are all old stuff, very old. All you can say about it is that neither Foster nor Digby ever had an original thought in his life. But they knew what would sell, in this day and age. So they pieced together a hundred timeworn tricks, gave them a new paint job, and they were in business. A booming business, too. The only thing that scares me is that I might live to see it sell too well- until it was compulsory for everybody."
                "Oh, no!"
                "Oh, yes. Hitler started with less and all he had to peddle was hate. Hate always sells well, but for repeat trade and the long pull happiness is sounder merchandise. Believe me, I know; I'm in the same grift myself. As Digby reminded me." Jubal grimaced. "I should have punched him, Instead, he made me like it. That's why I'm afraid of him. He's good at it, he's clever. He knows what people want. Happiness. The world has suffered a long, bleak century of guilt and fear-now Digby tells them that they have nothing to fear, in this life or hereafter, and that God commands them to love and be happy. Day in, day out, he keeps pushing it: Don't be afraid, be happy"
                "Well, that part's all right," Jill admitted, "and I concede that he works hard at it. But-"
                "Piffle! He plays hard."
                "No, he gave me the impression that he really is devoted to his work, that he had sacrificed everything else to-"
                "'Piffle!' I said. For Digby it's play. Jill, of all the nonsense that twists the world, the concept of 'altruism' is the worst. People do what they want to do, every time. If it sometimes pains them to make a choice-if the choice turns out