because he feared it even more than he feared the
coming judgment of the Pantheon.

But there wasn't any flaw. The facts meshed together entirely too well
to be an accidental pattern.

In the first place, he thought, why had he been picked for the job? He
was a nobody, of no importance, with no special gifts. Why did he
deserve the honor of taking his place beside Hercules and Achilles and
Odysseus and the other great heroes? Forrester knew he wasn't any hero.
But what gave him his standing?

And, he went on, there was a second place. In the months of his training
he had met fourteen of the Gods--all of them, except for Dionysus. Now,
what kind of sense did that make? Anyone who's going to have a double
usually trains the double himself, if it's at all possible. Or, at the
very least, he allows the double to watch his actions, so that the
double can do a really competent job of imitation.

And if an imitation is all that's needed, why not hire an actor instead
of a history professor?

Vulcan had told him: "You were picked not merely for your physical
resemblance to Dionysus, but your psychological resemblance as well."

That had to be true, if only because, as far as Forrester could see,
nobody had the slightest reason to lie about it. But why should it be
true? What advantage did the Gods get out of that "psychological
resemblance"? All he was supposed to be was a double--and anybody who
_looked_ like Dionysus would be accepted _as_ Dionysus by the people.
The "psychological resemblance" didn't have a single thing to do with
it.

Mars, Venus, Vulcan--even Zeus had dropped clues. Zeus had referred to
him as a "substitute for Dionysus."

A substitute, he realized with a kind of horror, was not at all the same
thing as a double.

The answer was perfectly clear, but there were even more facts to
bolster it. Why had he been tested, for instance, _after_ he had been
made a demi-God? In spite of what Vulcan had said, was he slated for
further honors if he passed the new tests? He was sure that Vulcan had
been telling the truth as far as he'd gone--but it hadn't been the whole
truth. Forrester was certain of that now.

And what was it that Venus had said during that argument with Mars?
Something about not killing Forrester, because then they would have to
"get another--"

Another _what_?

Another _substitute_?

No, there was no escape from the simple and obvious conclusion. Dionysus
was either missing, which