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"If it is as wet a climate as is indicated, I might well be unable to use the
adaptation at all, or I might change at any moment."
The Imir shrugged. "Believe me, if this person even noticed it at all, she
would think it an asset."
The place clearly had once been a church, in older, better times. It now was a
pale shadow of itself, with paint peeling off its stucco walls and obvious
gaps where parts of the exterior had split, fallen, and splintered to the
ground. There was no cross atop the small steeple anymore, nor any other signs
of its former life in the dingy small town that had been bypassed by all the
highways and by life itself.
A hand-painted, crude sign over the entrance read; THE
NEO-PRIMITIVE HAWAIIAN CHURCH.
Tiana had worn one of her overly long dresses and was using the wheelchair,
although she still had her legs for now. The dampness was already creeping in,
and it was only a question of time until the air struck the inner ridges of
the coastal range and was lifted high enough to give up its moisture.
Joe stared blankly at the door as he helped Tiana out of the van. "Now what
are we supposed to do?"
"Knock?" she suggested.
He did, but there was no response. Finally he decided just to open the door,
an old wooden two-part barrier that formed an entry arch. It opened, and he
helped Tiana up the steps and then back into the chair, and they went inside.
It seemed foggier inside than out, with a thick mist curling around the floor
of the old structure, but the mist was definitely not of natural origin. The
air was thick with an incredible mixture of incense scents as well. The whole
of the interior appeared to have been cleared of pews and
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210
JACK L. CHALKER 211
VENGEANCE OF THE DANCING GODS
other structures and thickly woven straw matting had been placed over the
entire floor. On all sides were enormous images of Hawaiian gods and totems,
some quite realistic, others very crudely painted and decorated in garish
colors.
Ahead was the altar, upon which stood a gigantic and very impressive wooden
carving of a Hawaiian deity, flanked by others in descending order of size
and, pos-
sibly, rank. In front of the deity was a sculpted horizontal redwood platform,
decorated with flowered garlands, and on it, stretched out, was the still
figure of a dark-skinned female body, stark naked except for a lei and flowers
in her black hair. Somewhere, from cheap speakers, Hawaiian chants came forth
in a monotonous drum-accompanied performance. The needle definitely needed
cleaning or changing.
Both of them were shocked and thought much the same thing. Tiana looked up at
Joe. "Do you think she is a sacrifice?"
"I I don't know."
"Joe I'm changing. The rain must be here."
"Just sit tight. I'm going to see if she's still alive." He approached slowly,
warily. He would not have been at all surprised to find a horde of Polynesian
savages suddenly rise from the thick mist of the floors and attack him with
spears.
He walked up to the altar and heard Tiana's wheelchair follow close, the same
tenseness in her as in himself. He looked down at the girl and was relieved to
see a very slight rise and fall, indicating breathing. She was certainly of
Polynesian ancestry from her looks, but not as young as she'd appeared from a
distance perhaps early thir-
ties. It was hard to tell.
He stood there a moment, wondering what to do, when her eyes opened and she
looked up and saw him standing there. Suddenly she sat up and swiveled around
so she was sitting, facing them, and she smiled. "Oh, hi!" she said.
Joe was so taken aback that he was at a loss for words for a moment. Finally
he managed, "Uh I'm sorry if we disturbed you."
"Oh, you didn't disturb me. I always meditate for two hours after dinner. It
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