Judgment Day (42 page)
Authors: James F. David
The Lord God is subtle, but malicious He is not.
-ALBERT EINSTEIN
FELLOWSHIP COMPOUND, CALIFORNIA
T
hree days later the ashes of Proctor's compound were cool enough to be searched. Only nine bodies were found and the FBI concluded either there weren't as many inside as they thought, or the fire had been hot enough to completely consume the rest. The FBI also reported that the estimate of the number of women and children in the compound had been in error, since most of those thought to be in the compound later turned up at nearby farms. Only one body was identified as female, that of the woman who ran from the building on fire. Burned too badly to identify visually, dental patterns proved it was not Ruth Breitling. Dental records for other cult women were not made available, and the woman, and the other unclaimed bodies, were buried in a collective grave. George Proctor's remains were never identified. Sightings of Proctor began shortly thereafter with witnesses claiming they had seen him in a restaurant in Boston, in a brothel in Brownsville, Texas, in a gas station in Montreal, and windsurfing in Hood River, Oregon.
Five days after the destruction of Proctor's ranch, reports of a new "gay plague" surfaced in San Francisco. Beginning in the gay and lesbian community, it quickly spread to the heterosexual population. Transmission of the disease was respiratory, and its course horrific. Beginning with sudden fever reaching 104 degrees, weakness and disorientation followed, then bleeding from the eyes. Slowly the tissues liquified, the arteries and veins eventually bursting, the victims drowning in their own blood. Ebola was suspected, but early identification of the bacteria responsible showed it differed significantly in structure, suggesting a mutation—that is, until the disease appeared in three other towns surrounding the Fellowship's California compound, and then Christ's Home itself.
"Cult Brings Alien Plague," read the headline in the
San Francisco Journal
. The disease was dubbed "IT," by the press, the name quickly popularized as the plague spread through the infected towns. Quarantines were imposed on the stricken towns, but San Francisco was impossibly large with undefined borders. When the death rate reached two hundred, the tourism rate in San Francisco dropped to zero, and in Los Angeles, half of normal. Few in San Francisco could find relatives to take them in, since they were deathly afraid of IT. The lack of hospitality by relatives and friends had the unintended consequence of slowing spread of the plague. Soon the Centers for Disease Control had efficient procedures in place and each new patient was quickly isolated.
Even as IT came under control, the media whipped up the public anger until only fear of the plague kept mobs from storming Fellowship properties and lynching whomever they found. The fact that none of those who had traveled to the stars were infected by IT was explained away by saying they likely acquired immunity during their stay on the planet where the disease evolved. Op-ed pages filled with editorials comparing the deaths from IT to those in the gas chambers of the Nazis, and the Fellowship with totalitarian regimes that practiced ethnic cleansing.
Senator Crow led the attack on the Fellowship in Congress, railing about their flagrant disregard for human life and their responsibility to the victims and to society as a whole. With key congressional leaders behind him he introduced two bipartisan bills, one to eliminate compensatory caps in lawsuits against the Fellowship, and the second to declare their technology essential to national security and to allow the Defense Department to acquire any and all technologies related to antigravity and faster-than-light travel. The bill was moving swiftly through the Congress toward a president poised to sign it when Mark Shepherd made a pivotal decision.
Mark gathered the Fellowship Council after hearing of Crow's proposed legislation. Ira was holed up in his house in Christ's Home, refusing all but minimal nourishment and incapable of working. Mark feared he would never recover from Ruth's death. Micah was missing too, nearing Earth with the gold asteroid.
"Floyd, the
Covenant
must leave for the new planet immediately,"
Mark announced.
"Impossible," Floyd said. "We don't have all the supplies we need."
"We have enough for two years. If we grow crops we can survive indefinitely."
"It takes more than food," Floyd said. "Fuel, electricity, heat. We hoped to send an advance team to build shelters."
"Floyd, if we don't go now, we may never get away. They're blaming IT on us. The country is turning against us. We've always had enemies, but now the common man is turning on us. Any day now our own government will storm through our fences and take God's gift from us."
"Who will go? We're restricted from flying anywhere but in and out of this compound, and only then because they need us to keep the communications platforms running. There's no way to get our pioneers here or to Mexico and we can't pick them up where they are without risking attack."
"The pioneers will be the residents of Christ's Home," Mark said.
The others at the table looked concerned. A subcommittee appointed by Mark had spent five years deciding on the criteria for the first group to move to another world. Carefully selected to be spiritually mature, physically fit, adaptable, and adventuresome, the first group was made up of married couples ranging from twenty to forty-five, many with children. Now Mark was proposing abandoning years of work and planning, and taking potluck.
"Is that wise, Mark?" Sally said. "Most of those in Christ's Home aren't farmers or craftsmen. Frankly, I thought there would be a town waiting when I got there. I don't know if I can live like Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest."
"I know we didn't plan for this, but it has advantages," Mark argued. "We know each other, we've worked together, worshiped together—we're a community, and there is strength in community."
Looking thoughtful, Floyd said, "It might do my family some good. It would give Daniel a chance to start over. Get him away from some bad influences."
Mark knew Daniel had few friends because of his influence on the other children, not their influence on him.
"Sally, you would have to stay behind to handle our financial affairs," Mark said, "and Stephen to take care of legal matters."
Sally looked relieved and then asked, "What about Ira?"
"The move may be the only way to save him."
Many questions followed, details discussed, and plans made. Excitement grew with each decision, as did anxiety. They would be the first humans to emigrate to another planet.
I have second thoughts. Maybe God is malicious.
-ALBERT EINSTEIN
WASHINGTON, D.C.
I
t had been two weeks since the identification of the plague called IT, and Crow had effectively manipulated public fear of the disease into fear of the Fellowship. So he was in no mood for Fry to take all the credit for the damage done to the Fellowship. The two of them were walking along the Washington, D.C. Tidal Basin.
"We've got them where we want them now, Senator, despite your clumsy kidnapping of Ruth Breitling."
Fry used Crow's title, but in a mocking tone.
"We had Ruth Breitling in our hands," Crow said, still frustrated by the loss of his prize. "In another month or so, Ira would have been begging us to trade the cult's technological secrets for his wife."
"But now she's dead and you've lost your only leverage over Breitling. Every one of your little schemes has failed, Senator. That reminds me, they found William Lichter, your NASA saboteur."
"Found him?" Crow asked, worried.
"Relax, he's dead. He was one of the bodies recovered at Proctor's compound."
"I thought they never identified the bodies."
"The FBI didn't, we made sure of that. Rosa Quigly was one of the dead, too. All of the dead were somehow linked to plots against the Fellowship."
"We could use this. Give it to the media. Proctor was a kidnapper."
"There wasn't a single Fellowship bullet in any of those bodies. How would we explain killing innocent people? Besides, if the bodies had been identified they might have made connections to you and others we're working with. We'll have to settle for Proctor being dead. He won't be around to protect Shepherd anymore."
Frustrated by his inability to stop the Fellowship, Crow's anger grew.
"We wouldn't have needed to kidnap her if you'd let Thorpe open that drive."
"A functioning sphere is a secret weapon we can use against them."
"But you don't even have that," Crow pointed out.
"Thorpe's obsessed with discovering their secret. He'll get it working. Besides, we may not need it. We now have the excuse we needed to take their technology."
"You're responsible for IT, I take it," Crow said.
"We borrowed it from one of our germ warfare labs. It's a genetically altered form of Ebola. We spread it through the communities around Christ's Home. That's where they built their ships, that's the facility we want."
"Their ships are assembled in space now," Crow pointed out. "They have an orbital manufacturing plant for building drives."
"They want you to think everything is being built in orbit, but we've been monitoring their Christ's Home compound and they're still building there. Maybe not the big ships, but if we can get a look at components, machinery, even residue from construction, you'd be surprised what our people can learn."
"Eventually someone will identify your Ebola variant for what it is,"
Crow pointed out.
"Any day now, I would guess. That's why we have to take the compound soon. When will the president have the National Technologies legislation on his desk?"
"The House will vote tomorrow, the Senate within two days after that," Crow said. "It will pass."
"We'll be ready to move on their Christ's Home compound in three days."
Natural law gives parents the right to raise their children according to their personal beliefs. However, for the sake of the children, society has the right to limit parental freedom.
—
UNDERSTANDING CONFLICT
, CHRISTINE MAITLAND
CHRIST'S HOME, CALIFORNIA
H
eadphones on, rock music cranked up to shut out the world, Daniel lay on his bed, staring at the poster on his ceiling. The poster was of bubbling mud pots in Yellowstone Park. His mother had removed the posters of rock stars or models in swimsuits that he preferred, so he picked the mud pots, ugly like his mood, and fantasized pushing his father into the steaming mud, picturing him dying in agony as every square inch of his body received third-degree burns.
The CD he was listening to was forbidden music, smuggled to him by the daughter of another member of the Fellowship, who had a cousin outside the faith. Lisa liked Daniel, he knew, and as his body changed he was beginning to think of her a lot. She would smoke with him and would share a drink on those rare occasions one of them could get their hands on alcohol. She told him about going to a kegger once, when she visited an older cousin in San Francisco. She had gotten drunk at the party, throwing up when she got home. Furious with her, her parents grounded her for a month, but she claimed it was worth it. Daniel made her tell the story of the party over and over, knowing that was the kind of life he wanted. He hated the straitjacket his parents kept him in, and the boring town they forced him to live in. Like Daniel, Lisa hated life in Christ's Home and she offered to run away with him. He had refused the first time she asked, knowing it would be harder for two to get away, but the more he thought about her, the more he wanted her with him. Next time—when the quarantine ended—he would take her with him. Knowing it would add to his father's hurt made it all the sweeter.
The door opened, his father and mother entering. His eyes went cold, losing the heat they had held when he thought of Lisa.
"Daniel, we're going to be moving," his father said.
Daniel never spoke to his father, except to curse him, and he made a show of turning up the volume on his CD player. Angry, his father reached for his earphones, which Daniel protected with both hands. Instead, his father grabbed the cord, ripping it from the player.
"I said we're going to move, Daniel."
Pulling his earphones off, Daniel ignored his father, turning to his mother.
"We're not quarantined anymore?" Daniel asked hopefully.
"There's been no change in the quarantine," she said.
"Then what's the point?" he asked. "What are we going to do, move across town to some other dump?"
"We're moving to the new planet, Daniel," his father said.
Like a wild animal, caged and destined to live out its life in a zoo, Daniel understood the horror of the life that awaited him. Moving to a different planet meant that sneaking away for smokes and drinks would be over and there would be no more contraband CDs smuggled to him. Running away would be impossible and there would be no child abuse laws to keep his father at bay. He would be at his father's mercy, and his father had no mercy.
"I won't go!" he said, finally locking eyes with his father.
"It's a wonderful opportunity," his mother said.
"You can't make me go," Daniel said, still staring at his father.
"It's for your own good," his father said.
"It's for
your
own good," he said. "You want to make me do those things with you again. I won't! I'll fight you."
Now Daniel stood, backing to the wall, earphones hanging from his neck. His father was powerful, but each day brought Daniel closer to adult strength and size. He might be able to break away, to run for the quarantine line, make them arrest him. Before he could fight past his parents, two more men came through the door, advancing on him. Daniel bolted past his father, but the other men caught him, wrestling him to the ground. Flailing and kicking he tried to hurt them, but they were big and strong, and he was flipped onto his stomach, his hands taped behind his back. Kicking did little good, they simply sat on him until he tired. Screaming obscenities was the only course left to him, but they stopped that with another piece of tape. Then loaded into a wheelchair, he left his room—his sanctuary—for the last time.