Judgment Day (21 page)

"Your parents miss you, Daniel," Christy said.

"Can I go home?" Daniel asked.

The question came without hope.

"I don't know when you'll go home," she said honestly. "Has Rosa said anything to you about when you might go home?"

Daniel turned to the wall, his hand coming to his mouth, his middle fingers slipping in.

"She says I can't go home until I'm better," Daniel mumbled with a mouth full of fingers.

"Better?" Christy said, puzzled. "What did Rosa say was wrong with you?"

Daniel shrugged, his fingers still in his mouth.

"Are you getting better?" Christy asked.

Daniel shrugged again.

"Did Rosa tell you not to talk to me?" Christy said.

Another shrug.

"What did she tell you?"

"She said I didn't have to talk to you if I didn't feel like it."

That was his right. Christy had long championed children's rights but found herself uncomfortable when a right was used against her.

"What do you and Rosa talk about, Daniel?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it."

Rosa had made sure Daniel and Ruth knew their rights. It did protect them but it frustrated her. Christy knew if she was clever she might coax Daniel into talking about his therapy but that violated her own ethical principles.

"Do you like living with Josh?" Christy asked.

"I want to
go
home."

"I know you do, but is he nice to you?"

Daniel turned back to face her, pulling his wet fingers from his mouth.

"Yeah. He buys me things."

"Like what?"

"Toys and stuff."

"Clothes too?"

"Yeah." Now he frowned. "Josh likes buying clothes. You should see his closet."

"Does he do anything that bothers you?"

Daniel looked puzzled, then pulled his fingers from his mouth.

"He cleans a lot," Daniel said.

"That would bother me too," Christy said with a smile.

Christy finished the interview by asking Daniel about the things in his room and where Josh had taken him, then she left him to talk with Josh alone.

Josh was on the couch. She sat across from him, picking up her tea.

"How has Daniel adjusted?" she asked.

"Fine," Josh said. "He sucks his fingers when he's upset, but Ms. Quigly says the habit is the result of his abuse and not a reaction to living here."

Christy didn't question Rosa's interpretation of the behavior, not knowing if Daniel had the habit before he was taken from his parents, although she didn't remember seeing him do it in Christ's Home.

"He's pretty quiet," Josh continued. "He doesn't say much but he's talking more than when he first came to live with me. He'll play games with me now and he seems to enjoy going places."

Now Josh leaned forward.

"I want Daniel to know I didn't take him in for the money so I set up a savings account and the state payments
go
there. It's his scholarship fund."

Few foster homes had the resources to give up the state subsidy. It was a nice gesture on Josh's part.

"That's very nice of you, but he won't be with you long enough to accumulate much of a fund."

"Really?" Josh said with surprise. "Ms. Quigly doubted Daniel would ever go home. He was badly abused, you know?"

"I know there have been allegations," Christy corrected.

"Ms. Quigly said it's more than just allegations," Josh said.

"Has she shared with you some of the things Daniel told her in therapy?"

"No," Josh said quickly. "Just her feeling that he was severely abused."

Again Rosa was skirting ethical boundaries without clearly crossing the line.

"Daniel comes from a church-going family. How do you meet his spiritual needs?"

"You can be a spiritual person without going to church. In fact, in my experience, church often gets in the way of connecting with the spirit within."

"Did you attend church when you were little?"

"Right up until my father left my mother for one of the deacons in our church."

Edward didn't bother to hide the anger and pain of that memory. Christy realized that Josh and Edward Stafford both had unpleasant childhood experiences associated with church. She knew it had to be a coincidence, but it was unfortunate that the Remple children had ended up in homes with reasons to dislike religion. Still, while laws encouraged the placement of minority children with culturally similar parents, there was no such protection for children of Christians.

Then they talked briefly about Daniel's habits, which except for not having any friends, were typical of five-year-old boys. Then Christy said good-bye to Daniel and left. On the way home she thought about what to tell Mark. The Staffords and Josh Thrower were well meaning, but their worldviews were far different than the Remples'. Given enough time with their foster parents, Ruth and Daniel would take a different path than the one their parents had placed them on. Worst of all, according to Josh, Rosa had uncovered something that meant the children would never go home.

CHPATER 39 RETURN TO THE MOON

Houston, this is Tranquility base. The Eagle has landed.

—NEIL A. ARMSTRONG

A
re you working or not, Shelly?" Ira asked gruffly.

Shelly ignored him, then finished kissing and hugging friends. Next, she put her face six inches from the television camera and said, "Be good, John Jr., Mommy will be home soon. I love you!" Those gathered in the docking port of the station applauded loudly. Finally, she turned to Ira who held out his hand. Shelly brushed aside the handshake and hugged him warmly. Ira stiffened. Not knowing what to do with his hands he let them hang limp at his side. When she finally released him he was red-faced and stammered when he spoke.

"You be careful, Shelly," he said sincerely. "I should be going with you."

"No, Ira. They can't know where you are."

"It's not right," Ira insisted. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Then we'll handle it. Besides, you've got something more important to do."

Ira nodded, then took her hand and squeezed it.

"You be careful," Ira repeated.

She knew Ira was thinking of what happened to John. Ira had lost his protege and Shelly a husband. Their mutual grief had cemented an already strong friendship.

"I'll come back," she said, then turned and entered the
God's Love
.

Her stomach flip-flopped as she moved through the overlapping gravity fields of the station and the ship. Pulling the hatch closed, she sealed it. After a green indicator light came on she climbed to the cockpit where Micah Strong sat in the pilot's seat. Micah had been preflighting the
God's Love and had a
full board of green lights. Shelly patted Bob Morton and Gus Sampson on their shoulders when she passed the engineering stations that had been specially modified for this trip.

"It's about time," Micah said, imitating Ira's grumble. "Are you working or not?"

Shelly smiled and took the seat next to Micah's. Flipping on the monitor she was greeted by Sandy Wallace who would control the video feed to the network. Sandy was twenty-eight, with a slight frame, short brown hair, and brown eyes. The cut of her hair, her delicate features, and her crisp, serious manner combined to create an aura of competence.

"How is the reception, Sandy?" Shelly asked.

There was a pause while Sandy moved out of focus.

"The network is receiving us," Sandy said. "We
go
live in ten minutes so tell the crew to keep their fingers away from their noses. Give me the rest of the video, Shelly."

Shelly spoke over her shoulder to Gus.

"Sandy wants all the cameras on," Shelly said.

"Can do," Gus said, then flipped the toggles for the other six cameras mounted around the ship. Green lights lit up under each toggle. Under every camera a red light was now glowing. Two cameras were mounted in the cockpit, four more were spread through the ship, and two were mounted externally.

When she turned back she saw Micah had his finger up his nose. She slapped his elbow and he extracted his finger, smiling while he pretended to wipe it on his shirt. Sandy came back into focus on Shelly's monitor.

"It's looking good. Nice clear signal."

Gus began speaking to Sandy, so Shelly turned to the preflight checklist. Micah was as fanatic about safety as Ira—which is why Ira picked him for the trip—and although Micah had completed the preflight, he would insist she double-check.

"Here comes the lead-in," Gus said.

Shelly turned on a small monitor mounted between her and Micah. They were only minutes away from the launch now.

The network had been on the air for an hour, running a history of the space program, leading up to the
Apollo 11
landing on the moon. The Fellowship crew also spent a week recording interviews. Their portion of the program would be cut in over the next week as they traveled to the moon and back. In tonight's program, they would be interviewed as part of the segment called "One More Leap for Mankind," which focused on technological advances since the Apollo missions and the declining role of government in space travel. The segment ended with footage of the
Rising Savior's
first launch. Footage of the other flying spheres and the new class of ships like the
God's Love
followed, plus internal and external footage of the space station New Hope. Then they began the dramatic lead-in to the launch. They were now only a commercial break away from the launch.

The sound of a beer commercial caught Shelly's attention and she called the station.

"Sandy, I thought the networks agreed not to sell advertising time to beer companies."

"They tried, Shelly, but they were undersold by ten minutes. I authorized it only yesterday. Because of the charges . . . you know."

"Mark isn't going to like it," Shelly said.

"If we can't fully subscribe the program, the next one will be a tough sell," Sandy said.

Micah was listening and he looked up from his checklist.

"Did you try the condom companies?"

"This isn't scrambled, Micah," Shelly said. "The network probably has that on tape."

Micah feigned shock.

"Stand by, they'll be coming out of commercial soon," Sandy said.

Shelly looked down at her checklist, but couldn't concentrate. She often felt distracted around Micah. She had refused to acknowledge the feeling at first but knew she was attracted to him. After John's death she never thought she would love again—not that this was love. Micah was gentle like John, but without the cherubic good looks. Micah was average height, with black hair already speckled with gray at twenty-seven. His face was thin, his chin pointed. His eyes sparkled most of the time and the corners of his mouth were usually curled into a grin. With Shelly he was disarming, tender, and attentive, but so subtle that she was perpetually unsure of his feelings.

Sandy began a countdown and Shelly and Micah tucked their check sheets into net bags. Then Micah spoke over his shoulder.

"Bob, cut the gravity. Take it down slow, remember we have visitors on board. I don't want to be dodging barf balls."

"Right, Micah," Bob said. "No barf balls."

Shelly cut off the transmission to Sandy, then spoke to Micah.

"Micah, they might have heard that too."

"Oops!" he said, covering his mouth and winking at her.

Why did she always fall for the comedians? Shelly wondered.

A minute later they broke free from the station, leaving Earth orbit for the moon.

CHAPTER 40 SPECTATOR

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me in the presence of my enemies.

—PSALM 23:4

M
ark leaned through the bars of his cell to get a better look at the TV mounted near the ceiling. Most of the prisoners were in the TV room, watching on a wall screen, but because of the court order isolating Mark, he had been left behind.

The commercials ended and Wyatt Powder was back, talking about the " . . . strange circumstances under which man, and woman too, would return to the moon." The word "strange" referred to the Fellowship, although under pressure the network had agreed to avoid the word "cult." Instead, Powder used "strange," "unusual," "conservative," and "religious," to marginalize the beliefs of the Fellowship.

Wyatt finished reading his introduction, then turned over the launch description to a science correspondent who talked of the "antigravity drive," of the
God's Love as
if he knew how it operated. Then Wyatt began an unnecessary dramatic countdown, since the Fellowship launched ships like airports did airplanes. Launches weren't the complicated matter they were for NASA. It was simply a matter of releasing the docking clamps and then venting the airlock that pushed the ship away from the station. Once free, the drive was engaged.

The network filled the airwaves with dramatic music as they switched to one of the
God's Love's
external cameras. When the count reached zero, the lock was vented—particles sparkled into space. Now they switched to a camera mounted on the station and followed the
God's Love
as it pulled away.

Mark studied the ship—it had been modified. Two lifting spheres were attached to the normally sleek
God's Love
, one on the top, one on the bottom. It looked like a barbell had been driven through the
God's Love
.

Now the
God's Love
turned slowly, the cargo doors of the tail swinging to the camera. Then it picked up speed, moving off, shrinking quickly. The picture changed to one beamed from a camera mounted on the
God's Love
. It was a spectacular shot, the space station a black silhouette against the bright blue field of the Earth. The New Hope station slowly shrank to a dot, the camera lingering on the Earth as its diameter steadily shrank until it was the size of a quarter.

Next, a shot of the full moon filled the screen—it was file footage, spliced in to make the story complete. Wyatt Powder was still talking, now describing the four-day voyage to the moon and how important it was for viewers to be tuned in for every day of the coverage. After a set of commercials Wyatt's face was back, jovial now, introducing the next segment.

"Just who are these intrepid explorers destined to retrace the footsteps of Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins?" Powder intoned pompously. "Let's meet them now, up close and personal."

Shelly's smiling face appeared. The smile looked forced to Mark.

"Ms. Henry, thank you for joining us when we know you are busy with the technical details of the launch."

"I'm not busy at the moment. The computer has control of the flight, and there are three other crew monitoring the flight path of the ship."

"I see. Can you tell us how it feels to be the only woman on a spaceship traveling to the moon?"

"I'm sure I feel the same way the rest of the crew feels. We are thankful to God for His many blessings that made this possible. It is our hope that what we are doing will glorify Him."

"But as a woman, you must have a unique perspective."

"If I do I'm not aware of it," Shelly said.

Wyatt Powder looked irritated, which tickled Mark. Shelly was trying to prevent Wyatt from creating division among the crew.

"As a mother, you are leaving a child behind to undertake a dangerous mission. Your thoughts on this?"

The corners of Shelly's mouth sagged as she began to lose her smile. Powder was baiting her. He knew members of the Fellowship were under investigation for child abuse.

"Many professional women have their children cared for while they work."

"Is your son being cared for by someone in the Fellowship?" Powder asked.

"I'm confident my son is in good hands," Shelly said firmly.

Sensing he had pushed her far enough, Powder changed the subject to technical details about the flight. Shelly explained that they would closely match the speed and trajectory of the
Apollo 11
flight on the outward trip, but demonstrate the capabilities of the
God's Love
on the return. Then Wyatt had her introduce the rest of the flight crew. Seeing Micah, Gus, and Bob again buoyed Mark; their answers to Powder's questions were shallow platitudes designed for a network TV audience.

Now the monitor switched to an external view, the camera showing the speckled blackness of space. Transfixed by the infinite tapestry of space, Mark lost himself in thought, and suddenly he was back on the desert of his vision, a great crowd of people following every way he turned. Once again he felt a great weight of responsibility, a burden he didn't think he could bear. Suddenly he was back in his tiny cell. Down the corridor a prisoner was screaming obscenities at a guard. Gently pounding his head on the bars, he despaired. Every day since he and Ira had begun the Fellowship, Mark wished he could be free from his responsibilities, but now that he was, he found the separation even harder to bear. Somehow, soon, he had to get free.