Judgment Day (64 page)

CHAPTER 137 FEET OF CLAY

Men copied the realities of their hearts when they built prisons.

—
THE OUTSIDER
, RICHARD WRIGHT

T
here was no way for Mark to tell time in his cell. The banks of neon lights were always on, the tiny room bright as an operating theater twenty-four hours a day. They took his watch when they took his clothes. Food was shoved through a slot in his door but came at irregular intervals. With no other cues he counted the days with his sleep cycle. By his reckoning it had been forty-three days since his capture. He wore blue hospital pajamas and slept on a mattress on the floor. There was a steel toilet and sink, but no toilet paper or towels. No charges had been filed against him, no phone calls allowed, no questions asked. The rule of law no longer applied to him.

He had begged for a Bible until he realized it gave them pleasure to deny him. Now he spent his days reciting Scripture from memory, meditating, and in prayer. He had trouble clearing his mind, his thoughts drifting back to the carnage he had witnessed. Many of his people had died, including Floyd, who had been with him nearly as long as Ira. Even worse than the memories of the slaughter was ignorance. Who had lived and who had died? What had happened to his people? How many had escaped? But the question that ate away at his soul was what was Christy's role in his betrayal? He had come down from New Hope at her request and while he tried to convince himself that she had been duped, he couldn't shake his doubts about her.

Mark was praying when he heard footsteps in the corridor—many footsteps. This was new. The footsteps ended outside his door. The lock was turned, the door opened. Four uniformed men came in, cuffing him, leading him to the door of his cell without saying a word. Mark had been blindfolded when brought to his cell, so he had never seen the corridors.

With a hard shove he was pushed through the door, flanked by two armed men, the other two behind. The guards wore army fatigues but without insignia. There were other cells along the corridor, but all the doors were closed and there were no windows. Following the guards up the stairs at the end of the corridor, they climbed three flights, then walked down a long corridor. Guards were posted at intersections. Finally, they left the building to a courtyard. It was dusk, the sun just below the horizon, and in the dim light Mark could see one of the Fellowship's shuttles. Surprised, he stopped, hoping briefly it was a rescue. A shove from behind dashed his hopes. He was devastated—he had failed God.

The magnitude of his failure sapped his will to live and he shuffled now, plodding along only to avoid the painful prods from behind. They crossed the courtyard to another building. Finally, the guards pushed him down onto a chair. Then the guards left him alone. Like his cell, the room was bare except for a mirror that covered most of one wall—someone was watching. Now the door opened. It was Christy. She was smiling.

"How are you, Mark?" Christy asked.

"Did you betray me?" Mark blurted. "Did you set me up?"

"How could you think that?"

"You set up the meeting with Roland Symes."

"I didn't tell anyone about the meeting, please believe me."

"How many died?" Mark asked, ignoring her plea.

Averting her eyes Christy said, "I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Floyd's dead, isn't he?"

"I had to agree to certain restrictions or they wouldn't let me see you."

"They have a shuttle, what else did they get?"

"I can't."

"Then what did you come for?"

"To see you. To know you were still alive."

He could see she still cared, but now he found he was uncertain. She had never been part of the Fellowship, at least not by belief. Perhaps he was

meant to live life alone and by getting involved with Christy he had angered God.

"Did any of them get away?"

"If I violate the agreement I'll never get to come back."

Now they were both silent, Christy near tears, Mark withdrawn.

"Mark, they want to negotiate with you. They don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"After what they've done, how can you work for them?"

"I don't work for them—"

"They're manipulating you, Christy."

"It's what I do," she snapped. "I mediate. I try to find win-win solutions."

"Christy, sometimes there is no middle ground. Sometimes it is a matter of right and wrong and one side has to win and the other lose."

"I don't believe that. They're going to planet America, Mark. They're going to take control of the colony."

Now Mark understood how great his defeat had been. The world had the Fellowship's technology and enough ships to transport an invasion force.

"President Crow has assured me that your people can stay on America, Mark. They only want to establish a government presence so the planet can be opened up for other colonists."

"Will more of our people be allowed to emigrate to the planet?"

Now Christy looked uncomfortable.

"After diversity goals have been met, it may be possible." Hurrying on she added, "It's a chance to avoid more bloodshed, Mark. We can negotiate a better deal later."

"Later? When they control our technology?"

"They're afraid of you, Mark. You made a giant leap in technology and refused to share it. It put them in an inferior position. They weren't used to that, weren't prepared for it. Soon they'll feel like equals again and they won't fear you anymore. That's when we can get concessions."

"If they have the technology, what do they need me for?"

"They want you to
go
with them to America, to get your people to surrender. Micah and Ira will listen to you."

Micah and Ira were alive
. The cause was not lost. He would not be a part of the final victory, but the war wasn't over.

"You can't negotiate with Satan, Christy. There is no middle ground between good and evil. They murdered our people and I won't help them kill any more."

"Thinking like that won't help us reach a solution," Christy said. Then more softly she added, "If you help them we can be together."

Taking her hand he said, "We were never meant to be together, Christy. I can see that now."

It hurt to say that, the pain in her eyes as great as his. Standing, he walked to the mirror, turning his back on Christy and confronting the world behind the mirror.

"'You looked, O king, and there before you stood a large statue—an enormous, dazzling statue, awesome in appearance. The head of the statue was made of pure gold, its chest and arms of silver, its belly and thighs of bronze, its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of baked clay.'"

"What's he talking about?" a voice asked over a speaker.

"It's Scripture," Christy said. "It's from the book of Daniel. Mark, talk to me," she pleaded.

"'While you were watching, a rock was cut out, but not by human hands. It struck the statue on its feet of iron and clay and smashed them. Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver, and the gold were broken to pieces at the same time and became like chaff on the threshing floor in the summer.'"

"If he continues this rambling we'll have him returned to his cell," the voice threatened.

"Mark, please. Look at me. No one else has to be hurt. If you help them they'll let you move to planet America to be with your people."

" 'The wind swept them away without leaving a trace. But the rock that struck the statue became a huge mountain and filled the whole earth.' "

"Take him back to his cell!" the voice ordered.

"Mark, please," Christy begged.

Mark was dragged out by the guards and he left without looking at Christy. When they crossed the open space between the wings of the prison he fell to his knees so that the guards would have to stop and he could take a quick look up at the sky. Somewhere out there between Mars and Jupiter were the rocks, coming to smash those feet and topple the giant. A painful jab with a rifle butt and he was moving again, now whispering praise for his God.

CHAPTER 138 POINTS OF LIGHT

One day, 65 million years ago, a large asteroid perhaps 10 km across may have collided with the Earth. Luis and Walter Alvarez and their colleagues believe the effects of such an impact. . . could have caused the extinction of numerous life forms (including the dinosaurs) at the end of the Cretaceous period.

—
THE NEW SOLAR SYSTEM
, J. KELLY BEATTY, BRIAN O'LEARY AND ANDREW CHAIKIN (EDS.)

K
ent Thorpe paced nervously outside the Oval Office. Crow had I demanded to see Thorpe after his new lab had been destroyed. Thorpe had blamed the destruction of his original lab on the lack of proper security. Fry and Crow had argued violently then, each blaming the other, but thankfully, ignoring Thorpe. The loss of his notes and data had been a setback, but the capture of several Fellowship spacecraft meant they could afford to dissect a drive. So a second lab had been equipped for Thorpe and he was given a sphere. Now that lab was gone and the Fellowship sphere destroyed.

Rachel Waters came out of the Oval Office, smiling coolly, motioning Thorpe in, then closing the door behind him. President Crow was seated behind his mahogany desk, black eyes flashing with anger. Fry sat to the side, smiling smugly. No one asked Thorpe to sit down.

"Explain what happened," Crow said simply, his voice soft and deep.

"I didn't have time to analyze the . . . the wreckage."

"Tell me!" Crow demanded angrily.

"X rays, magnetic resonance, high frequency sound waves—we used every means possible to look inside that drive—it appeared hollow. So we started drilling. It happened just as we penetrated to the core of the drive. The explosion pulverized foot-thick concrete walls. There's a crater six feet deep where my lab used to be."

"Why aren't you dead?" Crow asked coolly.

"I was monitoring the procedure remotely," Thorpe said nervously.

Fry laughed. Thorpe's failure with the drive empowered Fry, since he had been opposed to opening it. Thorpe feared Crow and Fry equally, but until now Crow had supported his approach to analyzing the Fellowship's technology.

"I should have opened the drive in a vacuum instead of a nitrogen environment," Thorpe explained. "I know I can do it successfully next time."

"Next time you'll be standing by the drive when you open it," Crow said. "That should ensure your best effort."

Thorpe swallowed hard, knowing Crow meant what he said.

"We can't afford a next time," Fry said. "We need every ship we have to get us to planet America. That's where they moved their orbital manufacturing facilities. If we can capture that—"

"You failed here, what makes you think you can succeed there?"

"If we don't succeed, then I'll agree to let Thorpe blow up another lab. If we do capture the right facilities we'll be building our own drives."

Crow was considering that when Rachel returned.

"Simon Ash is here to see you with Archie Cox. They say it's urgent."

Thorpe welcomed the interruption—blending into the background.

Ash was white-faced and perspiring, Cox grim but with an air of self-importance.

"Well?" Crow demanded when they stood before his desk.

"Dr. Cox has brought news of an important discovery," Ash said.

"What is it?" Crow asked impatiently.

Cox opened the envelope he was carrying and withdrew several pictures. The photos were of bright dots against a black background.

"Before they left the solar system, the Fellowship stopped in the asteroid belt and moved some of the asteroids out of their orbits," Cox said.

Risking notice, Thorpe walked closer to the desk. Cox was pointing out clusters of bright dots.

"These are coming toward us?" Crow asked.

"They are moving to where Earth will be in its orbit six months from now. It's difficult to judge speed and trajectory, but computer projections show an eighty-seven percent probability of encountering some of the asteroids."

"So what?" Fry said, thumping the center photo with his finger. "Won't they just burn up in the atmosphere?"

"No, they won't. What we call falling stars are created by meteors the size of a marble. Meteors one kilogram in size—about two pounds—can actually survive to reach the surface of the Earth. It depends on iron content and—"

"Get to it, Cox," Crow snapped, cutting him off.

"The asteroids the Fellowship sent our way are much bigger than two pounds. Meteorites of up to sixty tons have been found intact on the surface. Hundred-ton meteorites will create craters, larger meteorites explode."

"Explode?" Fry said. "I thought you said they were made of iron? You can't get an explosive reaction from iron."

"Remember what they did to their compound near Christ's Home. When a moving object meets a stationary one, the velocity of the moving object is reduced to zero. The kinetic energy of the movement has to be released—usually as heat. A meteorite moving at a velocity of five kilometers per second relative to Earth—about ten thousand miles per hour—would have enough kinetic energy to make the mass as explosive as an equivalent amount of TNT. Move the mass faster than five kilometers per second and the kinetic energy increases exponentially. A tenfold acceleration gets you one hundred times the explosive potential."

"How big are these asteroids?" Fry asked, now concerned.

"Some are hundreds of tons; some are thousands of tons."

"They're going to bomb us," Fry said. "But we have six months to prepare. We'll have strategic facilities dispersed and in hardened sites by then."

"This isn't going to be like a cruise missile attack," Cox said. "There won't be pinpoint accuracy, but it won't matter. An asteroid detonated in the atmosphere near the Tunguska River in Siberia in 1908 destroyed several square miles of forest. The Wolf Creek Crater in Australia is half a mile wide. There's a two-hundred-mile-wide crater in the Czech Republic. If they impact in our oceans phenomenal tidal waves will be created. You should know that asteroid impacts have been linked to mass extinctions. An asteroid impact in the Yucatan peninsula sixty-five million years ago is widely believed to have wiped out the dinosaurs."

Fry was shaken by what he heard, but Crow looked calm, even happy.

"How many impacts will there be?" Crow asked.

"At least fifty asteroids are on the way."

"Any way to stop this?"

"Use the ships you've captured to deflect the asteroids," Cox said.

"We need those ships to capture planet America," Fry said.

"If you act soon, even a slight nudge will be enough for the asteroids to miss the Earth," Cox explained. "Each day you delay, it takes more time and more energy to alter the trajectory sufficiently to avoid Earth's orbit."

"Each day we delay means another day for that cult to prepare to defend their colony," Fry said.

Crow wasn't listening, he had already made up his mind.

"Fry, you take the bulk of the ships to planet America and bring back Ira Breitling and any other technicians on that planet. Do what you want with the rest of the cultists, just make sure they're never a threat again. Cox, I'll give you one of our captured shuttles and a sphere to deflect those asteroids."

"Two ships? That's not enough," Cox blurted. "And what about the Mars colony?"

"Deal with the asteroids first," Crow said.

Initially surprised that the president would allocate few resources to protecting the planet, Thorpe then understood. Crow wanted the asteroids to reach Earth.

"Deflect the biggest ones first," Crow said, as if it explained his decision.

Now Crow turned to Rachel who was by his side, waiting for orders.

"I want to see Shepherd," he said to her.

"I'll take care of it."

As Thorpe left with the others, he began making plans to survive what was coming. With only two ships, Cox had little chance of deflecting more than a handful of asteroids. In six months the Earth was in for a pounding unlike anything in human history.