He hoped Iximi would make sure they burned him tobacco regularly—really good stuff; almost made godhood worthwhile. But then he'd felt that way about incense at first. No, he had other ideas for making divinity worthwhile, and Iximi was going to help him, even if she didn't know it. People had used him long enough; it was his turn to use them.
In the kitchen, Iximi recalled Zen and together they washed the dishes and listened to the scientists quarreling in the next room.
"You will note the use of incense as standard socio-religious parallelism, Hammond. Men have appetites that must be gratified and so they feel their supreme being must also eat ... only, being a deity, he consumes aromas."
"Yes," Peter said. "You explained all that to Him much more succinctly, though."
"Hah! Well, have you any idea yet as to how the trick was worked?"
"Worked? What do you mean?"
"How they made that talking image appear? Clever device, I must say, although the Scoomps of Aldebaran III—"
"Didn't look like a trick to me."
"That's a fine young man," Zen said approvingly to Iximi. "I like him."