it. He was told that I was an
angel--literally."

"Let me see that book," she said, taking _The Christian Religion and
Symbolic Logic_ from Mike's hand. She opened it to the center. "I
didn't know anyone had done this sort of work," she said.

"Oh, there was a great fuss over the book when it came out. There were
those who said that the millennium had arrived because the truth of the
Christian faith had been proved mathematically, and therefore all
rational people would have to accept it."

She leafed through the book. "I'll bet there are still some who still
believe that, just like there are some people who still think Euclidian
geometry must necessarily be true because it can be 'proved'
mathematically."

Mike nodded. "All Bishop Costin did--all he was _trying_ to do--was to
prove that the axioms of the Christian faith are logically
self-consistent. That's all he ever claimed to have done, and he did a
brilliant job of it."

"But--how do you know this is what Snookums was given?"

"Look at the pages. Snookums' waldo fingers wrinkled the pages that way.
Those aren't the marks of human fingers. Only two of Mellon's other
books were wrinkled that way."

She jerked her head up from the book, startled. "_What?_ This is Lew
Mellon's book?"

"That's right. So are the other two. A Bible and a theological
dictionary. They're wrinkled the same way."

Her eyes were wide, bright sapphires. "But _why_? Why would he do such a
thing, for goodness' sake?"

"I don't know why it was done," Mike said slowly, "but I doubt if it was
for goodness' sake. We haven't gotten to the bottom of this hanky-panky
yet, I don't think.

"Leda, if I'm right--if this _is_ what has been causing Snookums' odd
behavior--can you cure him?"

She looked at the book again and nodded. "I think so. But it will take a
lot of work. I'll have to talk to Fitz about it. We'll have to keep this
book--and the other two."

Mike shook his head. "No can do. Can you photocopy them?"

"Certainly. But it'll take--oh, two or three hours per book."

"Then you'd better get busy. We're landing in the morning."

She nodded. "I know. Captain Quill has already told us."

"Fine, then." He stood up. "What will you do? Simply tell Snookums to
forget all this stuff?"

"Good Heavens no! It's too thoroughly integrated with every other bit of
data he has! You might be able to take one single bit of data out that
way, but to jerk out a whole body of knowledge like t