new, probably. He could even
remember the early rallies Tyndall had led, feeding on the fears and
suspicions and nasty rumors grown up in the early days. It was evil,
they had said. This was not God's way, this was Man's way, as evil as
Man was evil. If God had wanted Man to live a thousand years, he would
have given him such a body--

Or:

They'll use it for a tool! Political football. They'll buy and sell
with it. They'll make a cult of it, they're doing it right now! Look
at Walter Rinehart. Did you hear about his scheme? To keep it down to
five hundred a year? They'll make themselves a ruling class, an
immortal elite, with Rinehart for their Black Pope. Better that
_nobody_ should have it--

Or:

Immortality, huh? But what kind? You hear what happened to Harvey
Tatum? That's right, the jet-car man, big business. He was one of
their 'Noble Ten' they're always bragging about. But they say he had
to have special drugs every night, that he had _changed_. That's
right, if he didn't get these drugs, see, he'd go mad and try to suck
blood and butcher up children--oh, they didn't dare publish it, had to
put him out of the way quietly, but my brother-in-law was down in
Lancaster one night when--

* * * * *

All it really needed was the man, and one day there was 'Moses'
Tyndall. Leader of the New Crusade for God. Small, at first. But the
ad-men began supporting him, broadcasting his rallies, playing him up
big. Abolish rejuvenation, it's a blot against Man's immortal soul.
Amen. Then the insurance people came along, with money. (The ad-men
and the insurance people weren't too concerned about Man's immortal
soul--they'd take their share now, thanks--but this didn't bother
Tyndall too much. Misguided, but they were on God's side. He prayed
for them.) So they gave Tyndall the first Abolitionist seat in the
Senate, in 2124, just nine years ago, and the fight between Rinehart
and Dan Fowler that was brewing even then had turned into a
three-cornered fight--

* * * * *

Dan grinned up at Tyndall and said, "Go away, John. Don't bother me."

"You've got something," Tyndall snarled. "What is that damn shadow of
yours nosing around Tenner's for? Why the sudden leaping interest in
Nevada? Two trips in three days--what are you trying to track down?"

"Why on Earth should I tell you anything, Holy Man?"

The parchment face wrinkled unpleasantly. "Because it woul