Ray Meritan ceased playing his harp and said clearly into the boom microphone, “Wilbur Mercer has been injured. This is what we’ve expected but it’s still a major tragedy. Mercer is a saint.”
Wide-eyed, Glen Goldstream gawked at him.
“I believe in Mercer,” Ray Meritan said, and all across the United States his television audience heard his confession of faith. “I believe his suffering and injury and death have meaning for each of us.”
It was done; he had gone on record. And it hadn’t even taken much courage.
“Pray for Wilbur Mercer,” he said and resumed playing his gray-green style of harp.
You fool, Glen Goldstream was thinking. Giving yourself away! You’ll be in jail within a week. Your career is ruined!
Plunk-plunk, Ray played on his harp, and smiled humorlessly at Glen.
IV
Mr. Lee said, “Do you know the story of the Zen monk, who was playing hide and go seek with the children? Was it Basho who tells this? The monk hid in an outhouse and the children did not think of looking there, and so they forgot him. He was a very simple man. Next day—”
“I admit that Zen is a form of stupidity,” Joan Hiashi said. “It extols the virtues of being simple and gullible. And remember, the original meaning of ‘gullible’ is one who is easily gulled, easily cheated.” She sipped a little of her tea and found it now cold.
“Then you are a true practitioner of Zen,” Mr. Lee said. “Because you have been gulled.” He reached inside his coat and brought out a pistol, which he pointed at Joan. “You’re under arrest.”
“By the Cuban Government?” she managed to say.
“By the United States Government,” Mr. Lee said. “I have read your mind and I learn that you know that Ray Meritan is a prominent Mercerite and you yourself are attracted to Mercerism.”
“But I’m not!”
“Unconsciously you are attracted. You are about to switch over. I can pick up those thoughts, even if you deny them to yourself. We are going back to the United States, you and I, and there we will find Mr. Ray Meritan and he will lead us to Wilbur Mercer; it is as simple as that.”