Judgment Day (13 page)

CHAPTER 23 RACHEL

Like a few of the angels, some of Satan's minions have names. One of his demons is known as Asmodeus and is the guardian of treasure.

—
A HISTORY OF GOOD AND EVIL
, ROBERT WINSTON, PH.D.

R
achel's slight smile was enough to reassure Crow that she had succeeded. They were sitting in Crow's office, Rachel's six-foot frame W curled up in one of the oversized chairs, her long legs folded under her. Rachel wore a white silk blouse over black slacks, her clothes contrasting nearly as much as her black hair against her pale skin.

"Lichter is a worm," Rachel said in a slow, deep voice. "He didn't have the courage to get involved himself. I had to threaten to cut off his payments to get the names I needed."

William Lichter, who worked at NASA, had been easy to corrupt.

Through Rachel, Crow had seduced him with money, paying for bits and pieces of harmless information at first, and as Lichter became hooked on Crow's money, he traded NASA's deepest secrets for a few thousand dollars a year. Lichter had no personal convictions to guide him and no religious or even secular value system to lean on. What little personal worth he felt came from his association with NASA and he exploited that association at every opportunity. He bored his neighbors and acquaintances by exaggerating his role at NASA and his wife used the NASA connection too, as if her husband's status were her own. When it became clear to Lichter that he was rising no further in the NASA hierarchy, he faced a crisis, but Crow's money had helped him maintain the fiction that he was growing in importance and influence. Now NASA itself was threatened, by the Fellowship's technology. Lichter could easily see a future where he had no identity, no job, no income, and no respect from his wife. He would be left with only himself and that was nothing.

"It's better that Lichter stays out of it anyway," Crow said. "We may have further use for him."

"The others we needed all had their price—a surprisingly small price."

"Everyone at NASA is threatened by the cult," Crow said. "Their jobs are on the line and they want the cult stopped as much as I do."

"Do you really think one failure will stop them?" Rachel asked.

"It depends on how big the failure is."

"There might be a problem there," Rachel said. "There are too many variables to know the exact outcome. For one thing, we know very little about the design of their ships."

"We'll just have to trust in a higher power to make sure the failure has the desired effect," Crow said.

"Should I prepare a sacrifice?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, something special," Crow said.

CHAPTER 24 FALLING STAR

Executed properly, an aerodynamic space vehicle returning to Earth will descend at a shallow angle, traveling several thousand kilometers through the upper atmosphere to minimize friction and prevent excessive build-up of thermal energy. Executed improperly, the aerodynamic features are rendered useless and the kinetic energy of the descending vehicle is rapidly converted to heat. In short, the space vehicle burns up.

—
ALTERNATE PATHWAYS TO SPACE
, EDWARD NORTON

M
ediating reconciliations was often stressful but this one had been particularly taxing. Christy was exhausted, as were the participants, but after an eleven-hour day they had reached a breakthrough. Management would not restore Mr. Pilson's sales territory but they would let him choose between one of two expansion territories. In exchange Mr. Pilson agreed to work solely on commissions and reach mutually agreed upon sales goals within two years.

Christy worried that George Pilson was overconfident in his sales ability. After twenty years of average performance, Mr. Pilson's sales had dropped off dramatically. On paper, the company was justified in firing him but because of his age Mr. Pilson had filed an age discrimination lawsuit. Three months after he filed his suit, Mr. Pilson had agreed to divert the case to Christy's reconciliation center. George Pilson was an overweight, bow tie-wearing, middle-aged man, who had trouble relating to a new generation of customers who were increasingly diverse. Because of Christy's mediation, Mr. Pilson had another chance to prove himself and the company had his name on an agreement that specified performance goals he must meet to keep his job. At least for now, they had both won.

Leaving the final details to the staff, Christy excused herself, returning to her office, telling Janine she wanted no calls. Then she reclined in her desk chair, feet on another chair, and closed her eyes. Just as she drifted off the phone buzzed and she hammered the speaker button.

"What?" she said irritably.

"You have a phone call," her secretary said.

"Take a message—"

"It's Mark Shepherd."

Instantly awake, Christy sat up. They hadn't spoken since the rescue of the Australian satellite but she thought of him often.

"I'll take the call."

"I thought you might."

"This is Christy," she said into the receiver.

"Hello, Christy, it's Mark Shepherd."

Her fatigue was suddenly gone. Surprised by how pleased she was to hear from him, she hid her excitement behind a professional tone.

"It's nice of you to call."

"I was wondering if you would be interested in another tour," Mark asked. "The last segment of our space station New Hope is being lifted Saturday. You could come down for the launch and stay over to worship with us on Sunday."

"I'd love to," Christy said.

Christy felt like she had been asked on a date.

"Do I fly into Guadalupe? I heard that's where you're building your space station."

"Come to Christ's Home," Mark said. "Floyd will bring you to the compound. I'd pick you up myself but I get mobbed when I leave."

"You must feel like a movie star," Christy said.

"More like a prisoner."

Christy heard the sadness in his voice. They agreed on times, then said good-bye. Wide awake now, Christy explored her feelings for Mark, trying to understand what it was about him that made her feel like an infatuated teenager.

Christy was disappointed when the last segment of the New Hope was lifted into orbit two days early. Nevertheless, Christy met Floyd as planned Saturday night, just before midnight. He was as affable as ever.

"I guess your space station is complete now," she said as they drove through the empty streets of Christ's Home toward the Fellowship's compound.

"Not by a long shot," Floyd said, keeping his eyes on the road. "What's up there now is just a small start. We'll keep adding to New Hope as we get the money."

"Are Cokes still seven dollars?"

Floyd chuckled.

"Floyd, I'm a little confused. Mark invited me down to see the launch of part of the New Hope but it went up yesterday."

Floyd hummed, ignoring Christy.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Now Floyd whistled.

"You're hiding something, Floyd."

"All I can tell you is that there is a launch tonight. John is going up after one of NASA's duds."

When they reached the entrance to the compound, Christy was surprised to see only a handful of media people staking out the main entrance. When Floyd stopped to let guards open the gate, the media rushed forward, surrounding the van, pressing cameras to the windows, trying to capture images of those inside. Christy kept her head down, preventing a good picture. Floyd smiled and waved at the cameras.

The long road to the launch facilities was dark. Twice Christy spotted armed men hiding in shadows, speaking into walkie-talkies as they passed. When they reached the launch center she found it was dark too, except for light shining from the windows of the assembly building. Floyd parked outside, ushering Christy to the door. Inside was one of the barbell-shaped
Rising Saviors
. Up close she could see the name "Lamb of God" stenciled across one of the twin spheres. Suddenly Mark popped up out of the sphere, smiling.

"It's good to see you," Mark said.

"Nice to see you too," she said, feeling self-conscious.

Then they were out of things to say and stared dumbly at each other. It was Mark who broke the silent stare, climbing out of the sphere.

"I want to show you something," Mark said.

Mark led her to a room in the hangar she had never entered. It was filled with pieces of spaceships like the
Rising Savior
.

"Replacement parts," Mark said. "All of our systems are built with triple redundancy. No mishaps and only two significant system failures and in both of those cases the backup systems kicked in just as designed."

As he explained, Mark led her through the parts hangar to a wide set of stairs and down three flights. Until then she hadn't realized there were lower levels to the hangar. They came out into a noisy three-story assembly plant, filled with busy people. In the distance she could see the sparks of welding.

Overhead a crane moved a piece of curved steel toward the back.

"This is where we put the ships together."

"Everything is built here?"

"This is one assembly site. Some of the structural work is done here and certain subassemblies put together. Eighty percent of what we use is bought off the shelf from industrial suppliers, then modified for our needs. The power plant is shipped in whole when the rest of the ship is finished."

Christy knew better than to ask where the power plants were made.

Mark led her through the work spaces, keeping between two yellow lines painted on the floor. Those they passed smiled at her or whispered to other workers. They stopped on the far side in front of an elevator that filled most of the wall. Mark pushed a button and a buzzer sounded, then the wire gates pulled open. Inside he closed the gates and they started up. He was smiling now, as if he was hiding something. When they cleared the floor above she saw it—a new spaceship, much larger than the
Lamb of God
.

The two-sphere design had been abandoned and in its place they had built a ship resembling the blocky space shuttle rather than the sleek space plane. It was shaped like a bullet; a rounded nose widening out but with no wings, then ending abruptly with a flat tail. There were windows high in the front, giving it the look of a jet but no engines in the back.

"This is our new class of ship," Mark said. "We're calling it 'God's Love.'"

"All your ship names sound like sermons," Christy said.

Mark laughed.

"That's the point," Mark said. "People will look up and say,
'God's Love
is above us.' "

"It's so different from the other ships."

"It has a different purpose than the lifting spheres. Come inside, I'll show you."

The hatch hadn't been installed yet and they walked through the wall into the lower level.

"This is where the power plants will go when we bring them in," Mark said.

The deck was mostly empty space. Then Mark led her up a ladder to another deck, still under construction. It was a two-story empty space. Two men in coveralls were pulling wires through galvanized pipe.

"See what they're doing? That's real pipe and copper wiring. No shuttle could lift all that weight. It's so much cheaper to use steel and copper than the high-tech alternatives they have to use on the space shuttles. This deck will carry cargo—everything will be in sealed containers. The ship is a hatchback and the end opens in two sections so we can slide the cargo containers in or out. There will be a track system and winches to move the containers."

"The ship is huge," Christy said. "It seems larger than you need to supply the New Hope."

"We're building for the future. Come up to the next deck."

Up another ladder and they emerged on the flight deck. Few of the instruments had been installed but she could see the flight deck was configured for four. Two stations looked out the front windows, and the other two stations were along the walls, one on either side.

"I feel like I'm in a 747," Christy said.

"The New Hope will go where no 747 could. Come back this way."

They walked through a tight space where workmen were welding something to the exterior wall and emerged into a space much smaller than the cargo level. Mark was ducking, although he seemed to have an inch or two of clearance. Then he stepped aside and she could see workmen installing seats at the far end.

"You're going to take passengers?" Christy asked.

"At first we'll just shuttle crew up and down but eventually we hope to take passengers."

"Tourists?"

"You'd be surprised what people will pay."

Christy shook her head in amazement. This man and his followers were single-handedly pushing the envelope of the future.

Floyd appeared, coming down the corridor from the flight deck. Floyd spoke loud to be heard over the workers.

"John and Ray are taking off soon."

"Thanks, Floyd," Mark said.

"Did John and Ira have a falling out?" Christy asked.

"Ira's an engineer, not a pilot," Mark said. "He took the first few flights in case anything needed to be repaired during the flight. Now he only flies occasionally. If you've seen enough here, I have something else to show you."

Christy followed him out, wondering what other marvels they had hidden away in this complex. When they reached the hangar Mark walked to the
Lamb of God
and motioned for her to climb aboard. Shelly waved from the control room.

"How's the baby, Shelly?" Christy shouted.

"As obnoxious as John," Shelly shouted back, "but I love him."

Christy climbed down and then stepped aside as Mark climbed in. Sharing a small enclosed space with Mark made her uncomfortable and she moved as far back as the small space allowed. When he closed the hatch her heart started pounding. She felt like a teenager whose boyfriend claimed he had run out of gas.

"What are you doing?" Christy asked.

"We can't go visit the New Hope with the hatch open."

"You don't mean we're going into orbit?" she asked, excited.

"If you want to," Mark said.

"Don't I need a space suit?"

"Sixty-five trips to orbit without a mishap. Tonight we're just going up and down for a quick look. Will you take a ride with me?"

Smiling, she sat down in the backseat and buckled herself in. "Fly me to the moon," she said.

"Just to orbit—today."

Christy put on headphones and listened as Shelly and Mark ran through a checklist. The first motion she felt was the tug of the tractor as they were pulled out of the hangar. The controls in front of her meant nothing but she could see the indicator lights were all green. Then she heard Shelly give approval for liftoff. Having grown up with shuttle launches she couldn't help but brace herself for the gee-forces of the launch and the earsplitting roar of rocket engines. Instead, she felt nothing except a vibration through the hull. Through the small window in front of her she could see the buildings sliding past as if she were going up in an elevator. Then she was above the roof and she could see the lights of Christ's Home in the distance. As they rose, more distant city lights came into view, then wispy clouds obscured her view. They were climbing rapidly with hardly any gee-force. Even Christy's ears were relatively unaffected, feeling only a slight pressure.

"Our first stop is straight up," Mark said. "Our government just parked a satellite over the compound and I thought we'd take a look at it."

"Why would they do that?" Christy asked, still watching the Earth shrink away below them.

"To spy on us. To steal our technology if they can."

"Couldn't it be a coincidence? A weather satellite, or a communications satellite?"

"They don't keep the launch of those satellites secret. This one is a military Keyhole satellite, capable of photographing objects as small as

a pager and listening in on radio and telephone communications."

"Lamb of God
, this is Christ's Home," Shelly said through the earphones.

"I hear you, Shelly," Mark said.

"John and Ray are closing on NASA's bird."

"Thanks, Shelly. We're almost to the Keyhole. I'm activating the cameras."

Christy looked out again, shocked at how high they were now. The Earth curved away below her.

"Christy, there are sunglasses under your seat. You're going to get the sun on your side in a couple of minutes. Pull the screen too."

Christy found a tab and pulled a dark panel across her window. She was reaching for the sunglasses when the sun broke over the horizon brighter than she had ever seen it. Even with the glasses it was uncomfortable and she turned away.

"We're approaching the satellite," Mark said.

"How do you know where you are?"