Hatap collided with Rantep as he walked down the dark tunnel toward the temple.

     “What's the matter?” asked Rantep.  “Aren't you feeling well?”

     Hatep was definitely not his usual happy self.  His antennae were drooping at a dejected angle and his multifaceted eyes had lost their glow.

     “Nothing's the matter,” Hatep mumbled.  “Nothing at all.”

     And he marched on down the tunnel.  He felt Rantep's eyes on his back so he pulled himself up and tried to walk more erectly, as befitted the High Priest of Amenhotep of the Golden Thorax.  He had to place the silver chalices with nectar and honey before Her and perform the evening ritual with at least a modicum of dignity.

     But Hatep did not feel dignified.  Inwardly he was reeling, the beliefs of a lifetime shattered.  He dreaded what was happening.  He was losing his faith, and he knew in his heart that he was not fit to be High Priest for even an instant longer.

     He should never have witnessed the landing, but it was unthinkable that a vehicle bearing aliens should land on Ragwan without the High Priest to stand by the side of the Procurator.  It was his duty, just as it was the Procurator's, to protect the commonweal in any and all moments of crisis, and if that meant greeting the first aliens to set foot on Ragwan, then so be it.

     But they were so unbelievably ugly!  It seemed to Hatep that if they had not been so repulsive he would perhaps have been better able to deal with events.  The only thing the aliens had in common with The People was the fact that they walked on two limbs, but there acceptable resemblances ceased.  They had only two other appendages, which he had to admit they managed with some dexterity.  They had no antennae, only bulbous protrusions rising on thick stalks from the upper part of their bodies.  Their sensory organs, such as they were, were mostly all centered on the front of the protrusion, which they constantly contorted into the most hideous shapes as they emitted the harsh sounds that passed for speech.  It had been all Hatep could do to maintain the proper decorum while looking at them.  They covered the greater part of their misshapen forms with a reflective material of some sort, which was just as well, because they obviously did not have a well-developed thorax or beautiful, multicolored wings, but instead, more of that repulsiveness.  He wondered how they reproduced and if more than five sexes existed among them.

     But that was not the worst of it. 

     Hatep had been prepared for the aliens to have a, to him, repulsive appearance.  That was only to be expected.  One species could hardly be expected to find another, alien, species attractive, and it was highly improbable that evolution on distant planets would have produced such pleasing physical characteristics as those possessed by The People.  What had shocked Hatep, what had shaken his most cherished beliefs to the core, was to discover that the aliens possessed much greater scientific knowledge and a more highly developed civilization than that which existed on Ragwan.  This was evident when he and the Procurator had been invited, together with The People's most eminent scientists, to view the alien vehicle and see holographic displays of their home world.  It was even more evident when the aliens conversed with the finest minds of the Academy of Science in mathematical formulae of which Hatep had no understanding.  The leading Ragwan scientists had had to confess (in private, of course, after the encounter with the aliens) that the concepts the aliens were bandying about were much more sophisticated than anything of which they had ever dreamed.

     It was then that Hatep's faith had begun to crumble.  How could it possibly be that these grotesque creatures had reached a higher plane than the finest minds on Ragwan in, of all fields, the sacred discipline of mathematics, that branch of science presided over by Amenhotep Herself? 

     He had been able to reconcile (though only shakily, it is true) both the statement in the Scriptures that Amenhotep of the Golden Thorax had created The People in Her image  and the fact of the existence of the aliens as long as he believed the latter possessed a lower grade of consciousness than The People.  However, if the aliens were not only sentient beings, but also beings who were superior to The People in the all-important field of mathematics---that supreme manifestation of divinity in all realms of life—then the Scriptures must be mistaken.  Either that or Amenhotep could not be the Supreme Being after all, which came down to the same thing, because if the Scriptures were Amenhotep's word manifested to The People, as Hatep had always been taught and had in turn taught to the faithful for his whole life, then an error in the Scriptures was tatamount to an error on the part of Amenhotep.  This was unthinkable, and yet, with the first alien vehicle landing on Ragwan precisely on the Festival of Caniware, Amenhotep's most sacred rite, the unthinkable had become thinkable.

     The thing which most upset Hatep was that this merely confirmed what he had suspected when he saw the silvery disk descend slowly from the sky while he was officiating at Amenhotep's altar on Mount Farthi during the Festival.  All heads had turned away from the altar, including his own, an unpardonable sacrilege, and yet, who would not be struck dumb by such a sight?  At first he had dared hope it was a sign from the Goddess, but when the craft finally landed and disgorged its hideous occupants, he knew in his heart that it not only was not a sign from Amenhotop, but that it signaled the end of all those things he considered most true and sacred.

     When Hatep eventually reached the Cavern of Mysteries and stood before the main altar, his antennae were completely limp and he was unable to offer even the most basic, ritualistic prayer to the Goddess.  It was then, when he reached the nadir of despair, that he realized what he had to do.

     The following day, Hatep made his way to the alien vessel.  He had requested a private interview with the leader of the aliens, and it had been granted.  He was not looking forward to it, but things turned out better than he had expected.  The aliens were much taller than The People, so Hatep had believed that he would be placed in the humiliating position of having to look up to the alien leader when they talked, as he had to look up at the statue of Amenhotep over the main altar.  That would not only have been humiliating, but also sacrilegious.  Great was his relief when the alien indicated that Hatep should be seated in a curious concave object which placed them on the same level.  It was not too comfortable to have to sit face to face with such a grotesque creature, but it was certainly better than having to look up to it.

     “I welcome the High Priest Hatep,” the alien said.  It was emitting a series of incomprehensible sounds into an apparatus placed between them, which transformed the harsh alien gibberish into the harmonious buzzing which constituted civilized speech.

     “And I greet the great leader of Those-Who-Descend-From-The-Sky,” Hatep replied, inclining his right antenna in a sign of respect.  The poor creature to whom he was speaking could not indicate respect, of course, having no antennae, but Hatep was willing to waive formalities for the sake of more important matters.

     “I am not a great leader,” the creature responded, with more of the contortions of his sensory organs that Hatep found so distasteful.  However, he pretended not to notice.  “I am captain of the Starship Pazmir,” continued the alien.  “However, I am only an equal among equals.  We of Earth recognize no higher authority.”

     Ah, that was what he wanted to know.  Hatep had to exercise all of his will power to keep his wings from trembling with excitement. 

     “Am I to understand, then, that all of you consider yourselves to be equals?”

     “That is the basic principle of all Earth people,” the alien replied, “and has been for several thousand years.”

     Hatep did not understand the concept “years”, but he guessed it indicated an extended time period, perhaps as long as a kliot.  He pressed on with this line of inquiry. 

     “Can you not conceive of the existence of beings elsewhere in the Universe who are superior to you?”

     “No, we cannot.”

     “Not just in the Universe, but in the entire Cosmos?”

     “No.  We believe all sentient beings are equal, whatever they may be and whatever their level of development.”

     “But do you not recognize a higher authority of some kind?” Hatep was overjoyed.  He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

     The creature made another of his gross contortions.  “Do you mean a divinity?”

     “Yes, yes,” said Hatep, so excited that he could hardly buzz coherently.  “A divinity.  That's the word, exactly.”

     The alien continued to contort its sensory organs as it rasped its harsh sounds into the translator.  “The People held such beliefs long ago.  However, they disappeared in our prehistory, replaced by a scientific understanding of human existence.”

     Hatep ignored the obviously erroneous use of the word “people” by the alien.  It was clearly an inaccurate translation on the part of the machine.

     “Then you do not believe in a divinity,” Hatep said.

     “No,” the alien replied.  “If we did we would have to choose between a bewildering variety, because many species have at least one divinity, and often entire pantheons.”

     Hatep concluded the interview with the usual formalities and scurried out of the alien vessel and into the nearest tunnel as quickly as possible.  He was immensely relieved to be out of the presence of the alien, and very excited.  All of his concern had been for nothing!  Despite their seeming superiority, these beings were clearly far inferior to The People.  If it had expressed a belief in a divinity of its own, Hatep would have had to confront the possibility—nay, the probability—of a divinity superior to Amenhotep, given the aliens' extraordinary progress in mathematics.  This would have resulted in the inevitable destruction of his entire belief structure.  However, when the alien said that it believed in no divinity at all, Hatep knew there was no cause for concern.  A species that believed such nonsense had to be utterly primitive, barely on the first rungs of evolution.  The fact that it possessed such sophisticated scientific knowledge and technology was undoubtedly due to some strange process of uneven development.  An aberration, an abnormality.  Hatep didn't know how the lack of faith was compatible with such advanced knowledge, but it evidently was.

     And that settled the matter, for faith was the crux of Hatep's concern.  His own faith had been in danger of collapse since the appearance of the alien vehicle, but that had been before he knew that the aliens did not have faith.  A species without faith was obviously inferior to a species with faith and, thanks to Amenhotep's divine inspiration, Hatep had managed to preserve his.  His antennae were vibrating with satisfaction when he again encountered Rantep approaching him in the tunnel.

     “Ah, in a better frame of mind today, eh?” buzzed Rantep.

     “Indeed,” replied Hatep.  “Would you like to come to the main temple with me?”

     “What for?  I'm not aware that this is the hour for any particular ceremony.”

     “It's not.  I just want to make a special offering of thanks to the Goddess.”

     “Thanks?  For what?”

     “Oh, for a personal gift,” Hatep replied vaguely.

     “I'd be delighted to come,” Rantep said.

     “I'm glad, old friend.  We have much to be thankful for, believe me.”

     “I'm sure we do, but could you be more specific?”

     “I'll explain some other time.  However, now I'm in a hurry to reach the Cavern of Mysteries.”

     And with that, Hatep set off at a rapid pace, half hopping and half flying.  Rantep could hardly keep up with his friend.  What could have gotten into him?  Yesterday so dejected and today his old self.  Oh, well, thought Rantep, what else could you expect from a priest, and a high one at that?  If Hatep were logical, he'd be a mathematician, not a priest.  But there was one thing you had to hand him, his friend thought.  He could buzz through an offering to Amenhotep more quickly than any other priest on Ragwan.  That was a blessing when one had important business elsewhere, as Rantep did now.  He'd said nothing to Hatep because he hadn't wanted to disappoint his friend precisely when he was feeling better.  But Rantep could hardly wait to settle down with the alien for another long chat about unified field theory.  

     “You have to hand it to these aliens,” he thought, “they know what they're talking about.  A blessed relief after all the theological nonsense Hatep spouts.  Give me good solid rationality any time and keep your Golden Thorax, and may the Goddess forgive me.”

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