Judgment Day (14 page)

"We've got five navigational satellites in orbit that send out constant signals and four ground stations. The computer triangulates using the signals giving me an exact position at all times."

Mark tapped on a display. Christy found the identical display in front of her. There were three sets of figures that changed slowly.

"The next monitor over tells us where our target is located," Mark said.

Christy found the second display, which did not change. She could see the numbers on the two displays were getting close.

"Christy, get ready for weightlessness. I've been accelerating at one gee, but now we'll be slowing and I'm bringing the ship around so you'll see the satellite out your window."

Her stomach fluttered as she felt gravity evaporate. Then the ship rotated and she pushed open the screen and removed her sunglasses. Free from the atmosphere the stars were bright white dots that had lost their twinkle. Their naked appearance was disconcerting but fascinating. Now gravity was all but gone and the sunglasses floated up from her lap. She tapped them into a spin, laughing at the amazing sight. When the glasses drifted behind her she turned her head, discovering her hair was floating free around her head. She pulled her hair back but with no way to tie it the hair continued to have a mind of its own.

"Here, use this," Mark said.

A rubber band floated past her face and she snagged it. Untangling her hair from the headphones she tied her hair into a ponytail. As she finished the satellite came into view. It resembled a canister with solar panels and two large dish antennae. Other objects protruded from the satellite but she couldn't identify them.

"That's a Keyhole satellite, all right," Mark said. "It's state of the art in surveillance technology and it's pointed right at our compound. I suppose you know they've set up ground surveillance at each of our properties? Even in Mexico. Why are they so afraid of us?"

"Your technology. I suppose they think the same force that makes your ships fly could be used as a weapon. You know conservative religious groups have a history of violence."

"Jonestown? They were a cult, not fundamentalists."

"Also the Branch Davidians and various anti-abortion groups," Christy said.

"That's a small sliver of Christianity," Mark said.

"But a dangerous part," Christy said.

Mark pushed a button marked "VID 1," and the satellite appeared on a monitor. Then Mark orbited the satellite twice.

"We've got enough video, let's
go
see the New Hope," Mark said.

When they accelerated away Christy realized she was feeling queasy. Closing her eyes, she breathed deep and slow trying to lose the nausea. Mark rotated the ship to keep one side from overheating and she could see the Earth again. Mottled green and blue and covered with white clouds, it was beautiful. Seeing it from space made it look like a work of art, not a planet hanging in an infinite void. Then the ship was rotated again and she could see the New Hope ahead of them.

The space station was made up of six cylinders linked together end to end, with antennae extending in various places. It looked like a centipede floating in space. Two more of the twin-sphere ships were docked at one end and a third was moving along the length of the station. Looking closer she realized the moving ship was only one sphere, not twin pods like the others.

"Mark, that looks like half a ship."

"Spheres are designed to operate independently. John and Ray took the other half to rescue the NASA satellite. We started out using them in pairs until the ships could prove themselves. We also get added lift in tandem.

Since we don't have EVA capability it's more efficient to use them separately whenever possible."

"What is EVA?"

"Extra vehicular activity. We don't have environment suits that allow

us to operate in space. They are very expensive, so we do everything from the pods with remote manipulators. We won't need space suits inside the space station since the modules lock together and once they are pressurized we weld them together permanently."

"Floyd said you would be adding more to the station."

"Floyd talks too much, but he's right. The modules can be cross-connected to create a row of parallel modules. We can expand the original six modules to twelve that way and then expand them endlessly. That's not our first priority, though. First, we need more communications platforms, so the next twelve modules we build will be positioned in sets of three around the Earth. With these platforms we can provide whatever transponder capacity broadcasters need, not to mention telephone and weather services, all at a lower cost than throw-away satellites."

"More money for the Fellowship?"

"We give good value."

"I can see two rows of windows along the New Hope. Are there two decks?"

"Three. The equipment and storage deck doesn't have windows. The two decks on top of that—wait, it doesn't make any sense this way."

Suddenly she was weightless again as Mark stopped their forward motion. Then their ship rotated and top and bottom reversed—her stomach fluttered again.

"That's better. Now when I say top it will mean top."

Christy's stomach gurgled, rejecting this new orientation.

"Lamb of God
, this is Shelly," a voice interrupted.

"We hear you, Shelly."

"John and Ray are about to hook up with NASA's wayward satellite."

"Thanks, Shelly," Mark said. "We've got to get back."

Mark punched a button and the video being transmitted by John and Ray from the
Rising Savior
appeared on her monitor. It showed the end of a rocket engine while Ray exchanged numbers with Shelly at the compound control center.

"Hold it there," John said over the earphones. "I'm extending the manipulators. She's wobbling a little, but it shouldn't be a problem. Ray, get ready to compensate for the vibration. Hey, Shelly, remember that magic fingers bed in Walla Walla. We got our quarter's worth then, didn't we?"

"John, everyone's listening to this," Shelly responded, embarrassed.

"That's one," John said a few seconds later. "Stand by while I grab on with the other."

Christy looked out the window, preferring the stars to the tail end of a rocket. Mark was pulling them away from New Hope and the acceleration of the
Lamb of God
helped settle her stomach. Feeling better now, she found she was in love with space, finding the visual simplicity seductive.

"I want to hear more about the magic fingers bed," Ray said.

"You'll pay for this when you get home, John," Shelly said.

Christy smiled, enjoying Shelly's embarrassment.

"All right, I've got it," John said. "I'm locking everything down. I've got all greens. What do you show, Shelly?"

"All green."

"Let's move it, Ray—what's that?" John said sharply.

Christy looked back to the monitor, drawn by the tone of John's voice. Just as she turned back the rocket engine roared to life. Instantly, the screen flashed like a strobe light and then went blank. Now Shelly's earphones were filled with confused shouting, some of it John, some of it Ray. Then there was an earsplitting scream, cut off abruptly, leaving nothing but the hiss of static.

"John!" Shelly screamed. "John, can you hear me?"

Again Christy's earphones filled with confused shouting. Mark's voice was there demanding information, as was Shelly's, begging John to answer. Finally Ira ordered the others to quiet down.

"Rising Savior
, this is Christ's Home," Ira said. "Can you hear me, John?"

After a period of silence, Mark asked,"Cynthia? What happened?"

"NASA won't confirm it but it appears the PAM booster fired while the
Rising Savior
was attached," Cynthia said.

"How?" Mark demanded.

"They won't even admit it happened, Mark, but it did."

"What about John and Ray?"

"We've lost contact. The
Rising Savior's
dropping from orbit. It looks like it's broken free from the booster."

"Give me the coordinates and I'll go after them," Mark said.

"It's too late, Mark, they are coming down fast."

"Give me the coordinates!" Mark shouted.

"Sending them now," Cynthia said.

Without waiting, Mark spun the
Lamb of God
and Christy was slammed into her contoured seat, hit with multiple gees from the acceleration. Mark concentrated on the controls, forgetting she was there. Through the window she could see they were dropping rapidly. Mark's back was rigid, only his hands moving across the panel in front of him and occasionally working the stick. Mark's descent was reckless and Christy was afraid, her stomach knotting as they raced into the atmosphere. Soon Christy began to sweat—it was getting hot.

"Mark, it's too late," Cynthia said over the earphones.

"Is the
Rising Savior
still generating a field?" Mark asked.

"We've lost all contact. Mark, your hull is heating. You'll burn up before you can reach them."

A bead of sweat rolled down Christy's forehead.

"Mark, this is Ira. It's too late. You can't help them."

Rigid in his seat, Mark kept the
Lamb of God
in its steep descent. A warning buzzer sounded and an indicator light in front of Shelly began to flash red.

"Mark?" Ira said. "Listen to me. God's not through with you yet."

Mark didn't respond, keeping the ship streaking through the atmosphere, the interior now unbearably hot. Christy could see three red lights flashing now.

Christy released her harness, then pushed herself forward against the invisible hand of acceleration. Leaning out she grabbed Mark's shoulder, gripping him tight before she collapsed back. The touch broke through to him and he looked back briefly, then gently slowed the ship. He was ready to sacrifice himself but not Christy.

"Keep tracking the
Rising Savior
, Cynthia," Mark said. "We'll need to know if they burned up on entry."

"They're over the Pacific," Cynthia said. "NASA's worried they're going to hit the coast near San Diego."

Now the sphere was silent as Mark and Christy waited for the final word. Long minutes passed.

"They're down, Mark," Cynthia said. "They went into the Pacific fifty miles from the California coast."

"They didn't burn up?"

"It's not clear," Ira cut in. "Mark, there's no point in doing a flyby. There is nothing to see."

"I know," Mark said. "We're returning to Christ's Home."

Mark turned the ship, climbing gently, the gee-force comfortable. When they were above the clouds again, Mark spoke over his shoulder.

"Would you pray for them, Christy?"

"Dear heavenly Father, accept these two souls that have joined you this day . . ."

CHAPTER 25 SUCCESS

There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.

—PROVERBS 6:16-19

C
row sat with Rachel relaxed on his red leather couch, watching the report of the space disaster on his new wall screen. Crow wore a blue pin-striped business suit, tie loosened at the neck. Rachel wore her own business suit, navy blue coat over a white blouse, with matching skirt. They sipped coffee from large mugs as they enjoyed the spectacle. The networks had been covering the disaster live since the "accident" occurred last night and had bumped daytime talk shows and soaps to continue the coverage. That would infuriate millions of TV addicts. Crow hoped the disappointed viewers would blame the cult, not the networks for the loss of their daily fix.

At first, NASA had blamed the disaster on the Fellowship, claiming their systems were foolproof. Crow was amused by NASA's response and pleased that it added to the furor. By midmorning the Fellowship had released videotape of the successful capture of the NASA satellite. The few seconds at the end of the tape clearly showed the satellite's booster firing, ending debate on what had destroyed the
Rising Savior
and its two occupants.

NASA spokespeople were panicky now, fearing the accident could be the death knell for the agency. There had already been pressure to cut their funding, since the Fellowship could do NASA's primary job, delivering payloads to orbit, for less money. Now, NASA not only looked like a technological dinosaur, but they looked incompetent and dangerous.

"Too bad they didn't hit San Diego," Rachel said.

"I was hoping it would hit a hospital," Crow said.

"Better yet the local humane society," Rachel said. "There's nothing like pictures of dead puppies and mutilated kittens to turn the mood of the public ugly."

Crow chuckled. Even though he was mildly disappointed, he still counted this as a success. Two of the God worshipers were dead, some of their equipment had been destroyed, their confidence shaken. That was a good day's work. It wasn't a mortal blow but it proved they were vulnerable. It was time to improve his leverage.

"Rachel, I've decided to run for Congress," Crow said. "Begin making the necessary arrangements."

Rachel looked surprised but asked no questions. Instead, she slid down the couch, leaned against him, and rubbed his chest.

"Congressman Crow," Rachel said softly. "I like the sound of that."