wing
his religion as he understood it, and the religion was a very simple
one: when at an orgy, have an orgy.

Gerda didn't have to give in if she didn't want to, Forrester thought.
He tried very hard to make himself believe that.

But his finger was still pointed at the man. He didn't stop his powers
entirely; he merely throttled them down so that only a tiny fraction of
the neural energy at his command came into play. The energy that came
from the tip of his finger made no noise and cast no light. It was not a
killing blow.

Invisibly, it leaped across the intervening space and hit Alvin Sherdlap
squarely on the nose.

The results were eminently satisfactory. Alvin uttered a sharp cry, let
go of Gerda and fell over backward. His legs stood up straight in the
air for a second, and then came down to hit the ground. He was silent.
Gerda stared down at him, too tired and confused to make any coherent
picture out of what was going on.

Forrester sighed happily to himself. _That_, he thought, _ought to take
care of Alvin for a while_.

"Lord Dionysus," Kathy asked in that same innocent tone, "what are you
pointing at out there?"

The girl was decidedly irritating, Forrester thought. "Pointing?" he
said. "Ah, yes." He thought fast. "My target-tosser. I fear that his
religious fervor has led to his being overcome."

The girls all turned round to look but, of course, Forrester thought,
they could see nothing at all in the darkness.

"My goodness," Bette said.

"But if he's unconscious," Kathy put in, "why were you pointing at him?"

Forrester told himself that the next time the Sabbatical Bacchanal was
held, he would see to it that an intelligence test was given to every
candidate for Dionysian Escort, and anyone who scored as high on it as
Kathy would be automatically disqualified.

He had to think of some excuse for looking at the man. And then he had
it--the game he had planned. It was really quite a nice little idea.

"I hate to see the poor mortal miss out on the rest of the evening,"
Forrester said, "even if he is asleep now. And I think we may have a use
for him."

He gestured gently with one hand.

Gerda and Alvin Sherdlap didn't even notice what was happening. They
were much too busy arguing, Alvin claiming that somebody had slapped him
on the nose--"and pretty hard, too, let me tell you!"--and Gerda
swearing she hadn't done it. The fact that Ed Symes's snores were fading
quietly into the distance