Judgment Day (38 page)

CHAPTER 72 BOUND

I think there are innumerable gods. What we on Earth call God is a little tribal god who has made an awful mess.

—
PARIS REVIEW
, WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS

R
uth Breitling was tied hand and foot, lying on a soft surface—a bed? She couldn't tell in the dark. The drug-induced fog was clearing slowly. She remembered the school and the people who said Ira was hurt. It was fuzzy after that. She moved, rolling onto her back, realizing she was naked. Now her terror completely cleared her mind and all her senses came alive. She felt every bruise and scratch on her body. Panicking, she struggled at the ropes until her wrists and ankles burned.

Concentrating on her right wrist she wriggled until the pain brought tears to her eyes. When the stinging subsided, she felt something wet running across her wrist—blood—it might lubricate the rope. Suddenly there was light.

Just a glow, it was like a beacon to her dark-adapted eyes. Lifting her head she could see the outline of a door, the light coming from underneath. Then she heard footsteps, a faint echo following each thump.

The footsteps stopped and then a small window in the door slid open, letting the hallway light in. Then a face blocked the light, but she could see no details. A bank of fluorescent lights winked on and now she could see the horror around her. The walls were covered with hideous pictures of demons, bloodred, painted against a black background. There were pictures of torture, men and women, naked as she was, being dismembered by grinning demons. Other people were being roasted on spits, their flesh blackened by flames, their faces sheer agony. Others were impaled, their bodies pierced by great stakes. From high on one wall was one form of the devil: cloven-hooved, horned, watching with glee the evil his minions performed.

More footsteps, this time heavier. The door opened. A tall, dark man entered. He had sharp features, his black eyes sparkled, his mouth a cruel smile. A woman stood in the doorway behind him—tall and beautiful. The man was familiar, but her mind was too cloudy from the drugs to recognize him.

Terrified and humiliated she closed her eyes, searching for a Scripture verse to meditate on. Nothing came so she recited the Psalms.

" 'Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the Lord—' "

"Praying are we?" the man observed.

"'—and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.'"

The man came forward, bending, slapping her across the face. Ruth gasped, the man smiled.

"'Whatever he does prospers. Not so the wicked!'" She nearly shouted the word wicked. " 'They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.'"

He slapped her again, then leaned over, his breath on her cheek.

"Is that what you are? One of the righteous?"

" 'For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.' "

"It won't do you any good," the man hissed in her ear. "All this praying to a God that is past His prime. Gods age too, you know? Your god was in His prime six thousand years ago and even for a god six thousand years is a long time. He's been losing His power, bit by bit, year by year. He may already be dead. If He isn't, He soon will be."

His voice was seductive, his words crafty, selected to have a ring of truth when there is only one Truth. She began Psalm 2, trying to shut out the serpent.

" 'Why do the nations conspire and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers gather together against the Lord and against His Anointed One.'"

"That's from the Bible, isn't it? A very dangerous book. People shouldn't be allowed to read it."

He was baiting her.

"The problem is that it's history. It has no relevance today. The god with no name who turned rivers to blood, visited plagues upon nations, destroyed cities with a rain of fire and brimstone, isn't up to it anymore. You don't see much of that kind of thing now, do you? Know why? Because there's a new god in town. It's a world of sex and violence now. The word 'adultery' has no meaning, men have sex with men, women with women, and adults with children. Our streets are a war zone, robbery, murder, and rape are the backdrop of our lives."

" 'Let us break their chains,' they say, 'and throw off their fetters,' " she continued, struggling to resist his words. " 'The One enthroned in heaven laughs, the Lord scoffs at them. Then he rebukes them in his anger and terrifies them in his wrath, saying, "I have installed my King on Zion, my holy hill."'"

"Your god doesn't terrify anyone anymore, Ruth. He's impotent. If He wants obedience He needs to do something spectacular, something supernatural—destroy a city or two. Destroy a city? He can't even save you."

" T will proclaim the decree of the Lord: He said to me, "You are my Son; today I have become your Father. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession. You will rule them with an iron scepter; you will dash them to pieces like pottery."'"

"That's tough Old Testament talk, but that was then and this is now. Sure, He was powerful when He was helping the Israelites but by the time poor Jesus came along He wasn't the god He used to be. Ruth, He changed water to wine—that's the best He could do. It's embarrassing, Ruth. Your God couldn't even muster a simple plague let alone save Jesus on that cross. He duped him, Ruth, and all those who followed him. I'm not saying He didn't make the most of what He had—a few card tricks, a stroll on water, multiply some kid's lunch—nothing you can't see in Las Vegas five nights a week and twice on Saturday. It was a good show and He attracted a few fanatics, put them in charge, promised them streets of gold after they died—that's the key, you've got to die to collect on the promise—and presto, you have a new religion."

His twisted history hurt her more than anything he could do to her body.

"It's blasphemy," Ruth retorted. "God sent His son to us to save us from our sins."

Eyes open now, she saw him smile at her outburst.

"God became human and sacrificed Himself for our sins," Ruth argued.

"Gods don't do that sort of thing, Ruth. Your God used that poor demented fool Jesus in a last desperate gambit to keep control of the world."

"Jesus changed the world."

"I'm not saying it wasn't a good move. Let's give credit where credit is due. It was well played and kept Him in control for another twenty centuries. But that hand has played out. He's losing control of the world. Can't you feel it, Ruth?"

Even knowing it was useless to argue, she couldn't help but defend her faith.

"God is still with us. He gave us the means to escape this evil world."

"Cutting and running doesn't say much about your God's power, now does it, Ruth?"

"God is fulfilling His promise to His people. We're going to cross the Jordan and occupy the land He has prepared for us."

"That's a pretty loose interpretation of Scripture, Ruth. They teach you to play fast and loose with the Bible like that in Sunday school?"

"God's revelation didn't end with the Bible. He reveals Himself to us every day if we only listen."

"Has your God revealed to you what's going to happen to you here, Ruth?"

Terrified of torture—she collapsed in tears, then quickly fought to control herself, to deny him the pleasure of her suffering.

"I can see you have thought about your future."

Again she searched her mind for the Psalms, finding her place.

"'Therefore, you kings, be wise; be warned, you rulers of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the son, lest he be angry and you be destroyed in your way, for his wrath can flare up in a moment.'"

"Despite what you see here on the walls, Ruth, we're not going to torture you."

A wave of relief swept her.

" 'Blessed are all who take refuge in him,' " she continued.

"Actually, Ruth, you're going to be our first breeder."

Now she stopped reciting, her eyes opening, her heart threatening to pound its way through her chest.

"You see my god is very powerful, Ruth. In fact, he's running the world now. That's why your God is clearing out. Except of course we're not going to let you get away. You see my god demands sacrifice too—not nickels and dimes like yours—but blood. Human sacrifice—no, not you. Not for a long time, anyway. My god likes his sacrifices young and innocent. The younger the better. And that's what you're going to give us, Ruth. You're going to give us a baby to sacrifice to my god."

The horror of what he was planning was almost too much for her.

"No! I won't," Ruth said.

He came close again, whispering in her ear.

"You'll do whatever I want."

"But I can't have children," she said. "My husband and I have tried."

"If you can't, then you're of no use to us. But I think you can with the right man. Then when we get your baby we're going to take it on the day of its birth and cut its heart out. I'll hold that tiny heart in my hand and feel it beating like a rabbit's—newborn hearts do that, you know—and I'll hold it up to my god as a perfect sacrifice. Then my lord will give me the power to destroy the Fellowship once and for all."

Cringing with the horror, Ruth searched for her place in the Psalms, but the image of a knife plunging into a crying baby crowded out all other thoughts.

"No one could be so cruel," Ruth said.

"You'll give us our first sacrificial lamb, Ruth, and then another, and another, and another, until the end of your reproductive life. Then you'll join your babies in hell."

"I won't . . ."

"Won't what? Won't be a breeder? I'll take you anytime I want, Ruth, and when your babies are born we'll take them from you. You'll never cuddle them, or suckle them. The only memory you'll have is of them in your belly."

He walked to the door, then turned back.

"You could kill yourself, Ruth, but you won't. Suicide is a sin, isn't it, Ruth, and killing your own baby at the same time would be even worse, wouldn't it? Of course you have had some experience in killing your unborn babies, haven't you? I don't think you have the courage to murder another one. No, you'll live in hope that the god with no name will save you. Even as your belly swells larger you will pray for a deliverance that will never

come. Then we'll take your baby and the process will start again. The only way out for you and your babies is to admit your God is as good as dead and kill yourself. Can you do it, Ruth? Can you curse your God and die?"

"Without God I am nothing."

"I thought so. By the way, don't bother struggling to get free. I'll have someone cut you loose. There's no reason to keep you tied down all the time."

"I'll fight you," she said.

"Oh, please do," he said, smiling. "By the way, you may already be with child."

Shocked at the implication, she stared at him wide-eyed.

"I didn't see any reason to wait until you woke up."

Laughing, he slammed and bolted the door, then turned off the light, leaving her in darkness and despair.

CHAPTER 73 COUNCIL

Throughout the New Testament from the words of Jesus Christ, Paul, and James we are told to expect trouble (John 15:18-20; James 1:2-12). As Christians, we need to be aware of these influences and prepared to respond. But in recent years, drawing the battle lines has become more difficult because the attacks appear to be coming not only from the front but also from the rear.

—
CHRISTIANS IN THE CROSSFIRE
, MARK MCMINN AND JAMES D. FOSTER

I
ra's absence from the Council cast a pall over what should have been a glorious day. Sally Roper, Floyd Remple, Mark Shepherd, Micah Strong, and Shelly Strong had gathered to assess their progress toward moving off-world. Soon the first of their people would move off the planet, but they would do it without Ira. Ira had retreated to his home, fasting and praying for his wife, blaming himself for what had happened to Ruth.

In the month since Ruth had been kidnapped, Mark had only heard from George Proctor once, and that was a simple report that he was trying to find Ruth. It was frustrating that Proctor wouldn't share more, but Mark knew it was best that he didn't know more about Proctor's methods.

It was all Mark could do to keep Ira eating and alive. The hard truth was that the Fellowship didn't need Ruth to complete the mission, but Ira was essential. While he had well-trained people assembling drive units, he had kept the full secret of how they worked from any one of them. Without Ira the secret of faster-than-light travel would be secret once more.

Micah's report on the shakedown cruise of the converted Seawolf submarine,
Covenant
, was encouraging. They stopped three times on the way to Mars to realign the drive fields, but the return trip had been smooth. Equipped with the biggest drive they had ever produced the
Covenant had
used only a fraction of its potential speed in cruising to Mars.

Adding to the concern over Ruth's kidnapping, Sally Roper had a disturbing financial report. The resources of the Fellowship were being drained by the massive purchases Floyd was making to equip a colony on the new planet. A new world is nothing but raw material. It takes the products of a well-developed industrial plant to harvest those virgin materials, to process them into usable forms and turn them into finished products. Also missing from the new world was the infrastructure they took for granted—the roads, the railroads, the telephone and computer networks. Ultimately, their new home would have to be self-sufficient, manufacturing everything for themselves, but for now everything had to be purchased.

"We're liquidating our resources at an alarming rate," Sally said. "This is a fantastically expensive undertaking."

"We knew it would be, Sally," Mark said. "Will we have enough?"

"It's more expensive than we planned, because everything has to be transshipped through friendly countries. We could cut costs twenty percent if we could pick up in the U.S. and western Europe. And we need those tourist dollars—we've got to get the New Hope visitors' platform back in operation."

"That's not going to happen soon," Mark said. "Congress is going to hold hearings to assess the threat to Earth's ecosystem—the environmental lobby is in a frenzy. They'll drag it out for months, even years."

"Can't we take tourists up from Mexico?" Micah suggested.

"We're negotiating with the Mexican government now," Sally said, "but our government is threatening to close the border if they allow us to operate there."

"There's another way to get those tourist dollars back," Micah said. "Floyd has edited together a couple of hours of video of the new planet and Sonrise Productions in Atlanta has agreed to distribute it as a feature-length film. We'll transmit the video to Sonrise and they'll produce prints."

"The box office potential is tremendous," Sally said, brightening. "It could easily bring in a hundred million dollars in a few months."

The others laughed at her avarice.

"We won't put all the good footage in the first film," Micah said. "There's enough spectacular footage for three films. We'll release the second when the first one has run its course."

"Don't forget pay-per-view and cable," Sally said, triggering more laughter as she scribbled figures on a yellow pad. "Well, Floyd, you can buy your sawmill, your cellular phone system, your machine shop, your steel mill, your combines and tractors, your—"

"We get the idea, Sally," Mark said, cutting her off. "Get the video in theaters as soon as possible, Micah. Now what about the Ukrainians?"

"The deal for the submarine is still on but we've got to move fast,"

Floyd said. "They're getting nervous, and not just about relations with our government. If their Russian neighbors find out—"

"Are they worried it will trigger a war?" Mark asked.

"They're worried the Russians will try to get a piece of the action."

Everyone laughed again, making Mark wonder how joyful the meeting could have been without their concern about Ruth.

"What's holding up the deal?" Mark asked.

"They want the full price in hard currency," Sally said. "It's a cash-flow problem. If the movie deal works out we'll have the cash in a few months, but we can't make the purchases Floyd wants for the new planet and pay the Ukrainians."

"I have another idea," Micah said.

Mark marveled at the never-ending creativity of the people God had sent him.

"The Ukrainians like gold as much as hard currency. Some of the asteroids are loaded with gold. We could send the
Exodus
out to get one and make up the cash shortage with a few tons of gold."

The plan was accepted immediately, and the next few minutes were spent discussing logistics. Then Mark brought the meeting to a close with one final task.

"I'm tired of calling the new planet 'the new planet.' It's time to give it a name."

Naming the ships and space stations had been a function of the Council, but now no one spoke. Naming a whole new world was too important to do quickly.

"We don't have to decide today," Mark said after a long silence.

"I have a suggestion," Micah said. "It's not a biblical name, but it represents what we want our new world to be—a place where people are free to worship God in their own way without persecution. A place where we can

escape from a repressive government that insists on regulating more and more of our lives and a place where we can raise our children to believe what we believe."

When they heard his suggestion, they sobered, thinking of the implications. One by one those around the table agreed, Mark making it unanimous, but wondering how the world would react to the name.