Judgment Day (56 page)

When the shuttle lifted off, it was half filled with family, still celebrating the wedding. The newlyweds sat in back of the shuttle, holding hands, whispering to each other, giggling. Mark sat with Christy, explaining the custom that had developed on planet America.

"We could have marriages without honeymoons," Mark explained,

"but it was a custom we didn't want to give up. Our young people don't live together before they marry so they need the time to adjust to each other. Besides, many of them will return home to live in their parents' houses. A week of privacy is important to get the marriage off on the right foot."

"So where are you taking them?" Christy asked.

"Honeymoon Valley. We built a cottage there and the couple gets to use it for a week. It's completely private. We're building two more honeymoon cabins, since the number of marriages is increasing, but the one we're going to was the first."

Mark took her to the flight deck when they neared the valley, then had Floyd, who was piloting the shuttle, circle. The valley was small, surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs, dense forest beyond that. A small pond could be seen at one end of the valley and a creek that ran the whole length from the lake to where it disappeared against one of the cliffs. A cabin sat at one end of the valley near the pond on a carpet of bright green vegetation, sprinkled with flower color spots. Floyd put the shuttle down near the cabin, the young couple's family unloading supplies the couple would need during their week in the valley. While family members unpacked and cleaned up the dusty cabin, Mark took Christy on a tour of the little valley.

"There's no way into the valley except by air," Mark explained. "There are no predators in here and only a few small animals and birds."

"No leapers?" she said.

"No leapers. We've used it for three summers now and never had a problem. You can see we didn't even bring a dog."

Leading her to the creek, Mark showed her a pool created by shoveling a depression in the sandy bank.

"Feel the water," he said.

It was bathwater warm.

"A hot springs?"

"It bubbles up along the bank here," Mark explained. "It makes a natural hot tub. We think this valley is the bowl of a nearly extinct volcano that collapsed in on itself. The remaining thermal activity is what produces the hot springs."

The grass was lush, the air clean, the sky blue with puffs of white clouds, planet America birds providing a musical backdrop. Christy couldn't imagine a better way for a couple to start a life together. When they walked away from the pool into the meadow, the newlyweds walked over and looked at it, Karla giggling at something Mitchell said.

Next they toured the cabin that had been swept and cleaned, a dozen

hands completing the work in a few minutes. There was a screened front porch, with a swing built for two, hung from the rafters by chain. It was only one room, a large bed dominating the space. There was a stove—wood fired—shelves for storage and electric lights. A generator behind the cabin provided power. There was a fireplace built of rock, and the floors and walls were a polished knotty wood, the bed and kitchen table made of the same. The bed was covered in a handmade quilt, sky-blue dominating the pattern, the curtains matching. The tablecloth brought out more of the blue, as did the braided rug. The shelves had been stocked with food, dishes, and silverware for two. There was a radio hooked to an antenna high on one of the cliffs. The Wilsons would check in twice a day. A large piece of their wedding cake was in the middle of the table next to a new Bible, the Fellowship's gift to the newlyweds.

When the cabin was clean and stocked, the newlywed Wilsons were called from the meadow, their family laying hands on them, praying God would bless their marriage. Then as the family climbed aboard the shuttle to leave, Karla was given a package by her father. Then Floyd lifted the shuttle into the air, and they flew off, leaving the couple to begin their honeymoon. Once in the air Christy asked Mark about the last-minute package.

"It's a white nightgown—actually negligee would be a better word."

"From her father?"

"It's from her mother and father. It's another custom that's developed here. We ask our children not to have sex before marriage,- it's only right we tell them when it is the right time."

"The white symbolizes virginity?" Christy asked.

"I suppose," he said. "No one decided they should be white, they just are."

"And by giving the bride a negligee it's the father's way of giving her permission to have sex."

"Something like that."

"What is given to the groom?" she asked, pointing out the double standard in assuming the woman was solely responsible for sexual restraint.

"He gets to see the bride wear it," he said, smiling, his checks turning pink. "He's the only one she'll ever wear it for."

Christy smiled too, but more at his naivete.

Mark leaned out, looking down the aisle of the shuttle, making sure no one else was within earshot, then took Christy's hand.

"I was going to talk to you at the lake, but then the leaper attacked. Then I kept putting it off waiting for just the right moment, but it never came. I guess there isn't a wrong time to tell someone how you feel. Christy, I don't want you to go back to Earth. I want you to stay here with me."

She knew this moment was coming, but still felt unprepared.

"I love you, Christy. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes teared, and she nodded her head yes. She didn't have to think about it, she responded instinctively.

"Yes, I will," she said. "But I have to go back to Earth, one more time. I have family."

"If you must," he said. "But that world has a way of keeping us apart."

"It won't this time," she said. "Can we honeymoon in the meadow?"

she asked.

"I think I can get us at the top of the list," he said. Then he kissed her.

She hugged him tight, only now fully understanding how much she wanted this. When she released him he pulled a ring from his pocket. There were three stones, blue, red, and white—the white clearly a diamond, at least a carat in size.

"A ruby, a sapphire, and a diamond," he said. "I didn't know what kind of stone you liked."

"I'm eclectic," she said. "It's beautiful, but I can't take it, not yet."

Puzzled and hurt, he asked why.

"If the other fact-finders know we're engaged they won't trust me. I need to be seen as neutral to make sure they make the fairest report possible."

"I don't care what they report."

"It matters, Mark. Keep the ring for now, just until after they file their report."

"I can't tell anyone?"

"No."

"Do you know what pressure I'm under? Evelyn and Shelly lecture me about marrying you constantly. Every mother on the planet with a single daughter has tried to match me up—most of their daughters are teenagers."

"I'm flattered you picked me," she said. "I'm no spring chicken."

"I think God picked you for me, Christy."

He meant it as a compliment, but his tendency to spiritualize everything was the one trait of his that she disliked the most. Still, they snuggled together like the newlyweds had, and she fantasized about what their honeymoon would be like. Snuggling under the sky-blue quilt, skinny-dipping in the hot springs, sitting on the porch at night watching the stars come out. Could such a dream really come true?

CHAPTER 107 SUMMER

In 1 Samuel we read that God had David anointed in secret, knowing that Saul would kill David if he found out. God could have chosen to strike Saul dead, or make David invincible, but instead, He used secrecy to protect David from violence. Clearly, violence is a part of God's world.

—
THE CASE FOR CHRISTIAN VIOLENCE
, JAMES D. FOSTER

T
obias was tense as they descended into the jungle where the video with the "protohuman" in the background had been shot.

Tobias had nagged Mark daily to search for the protohumans seen in the video. After repeatedly accusing Mark of hiding the "First Peoples of America," Mark had finally agreed to take him to look for them.

"What about those gorilla-lion things in the video?" Simon asked nervously, eyes glued to the window. "They looked dangerous."

"Don't worry, Simon," Roland assured him. "The dogs will keep them away."

"But we didn't bring any dogs," Simon pointed out.

Roland's face fell, his eyes grew wide.

"Then we're done for," he said.

Charlie Peng laughed, Christy repressed a smile.

When the hatch opened, Mark and Floyd exited first, rifles ready. They had landed in a clearing, keeping as much open ground as possible between them and the jungle. The air was humid and the temperature near one hundred. They wore long-sleeved shirts and pants to protect their limbs from insects, their clothes instantly plastered to their bodies. Tobias had to be held at the door until Mark and Floyd signaled it was safe, then he hurried out, digital video camera in hand, turning around and around, studying the dense jungle.

"This is the place," Tobias announced. "The protohuman was right over there."

Recklessly, Tobias ran to the edge of the jungle, studying the trees. Mark and Floyd spread out, rifles ready. Head tilted back, Tobias searched the treetops.

"They're not here, but I'm sure they're territorial. They won't have gone far. We have to look for them."

Mark and Floyd exchanged looks, neither excited about leaving the clearing.

"It's dangerous to leave the clearing without dogs," Mark said.

"Dogs would just drive the creatures away," Tobias said. "There's no danger if we don't harass the animal citizens."

"We know of at least two dangerous predators that live in these regions," Floyd said. "You've seen one of them in our movie. The other looks like a furry alligator—long legs, very fast."

The remaining color drained from Simon's face.

"Maybe we should wait here for the protohumans," Simon said, wiping sweat from his brow.

"They'd like that," Tobias said. "They don't want us to know the truth."

"We'll take Tobias to look for his monkeys," Mark said, reluctant to leave the clearing. "The rest of you can stay here."

Only Simon wanted to stay, so they shut him in the shuttle and he waved through a porthole as they set off through the jungle single file. Mark walked in front, rifle ready, Floyd took up the rear. Tobias followed directly behind Mark, impatient with the pace and periodically shushing those who followed. The jungle was hot and steamy and everyone but Tobias soon tired, the energy sweated out of them. After an hour, Tobias's repeated shushings were as irritating as the insects.

When something scampered through the brush ahead, Tobias snapped his camera to his eye, recording rustling leaves. During the pause, Mark looked over his little safari, seeing that the heat and humidity were quickly taking their toll.

"Another fifteen minutes and we're turning back, Tobias," Mark said.

"Then move faster," Tobias said, pushing ahead of Mark.

Mark reached for him but he was gone.

"Don't get too far ahead!"

Tobias ignored Mark's shout, and was soon out of sight. Sylvia and Charlie had trouble keeping up as it was, and could not move any faster, so Tobias was on his own. Ten minutes later they came to a river, the banks thick with vegetation, thick swarms of insects hovering over the water in shadows cast by the towering canopy. The river was the color of pea soup. A rank odor emanated from the water and the smell of rot was overpowering.

"I can't go on," Sylvia said, collapsing into the grass, Charlie joining her.

Christy and the rest weren't in much better shape. Soaked in sweat, faces and hands covered in red welts, no one wanted to continue. Mark and Floyd passed around plastic water bottles and trail mix. Everyone drank but no one ate. After a few minutes of rest, Mark decided to leave Tobias and return to the shuttle. Then Tobias returned, holding his camera and waving for them to follow.

"I found them," Tobias said softly.

Red-faced with anger, Mark reluctantly followed, the others wearily falling in. Tobias led them along the bank for a quarter mile, then bent down, creeping forward until he paused and pointed up. One by one they crept up to kneel next to Tobias, looking into the trees.

The animals resembled chimps—tailless, hair covered, half the size of an adult human. Their faces differed, though, facial fur being light blond, not the deep brown of the body. The bulge of their eyes was not as great as other species on America, and they had a flat nose, not a snout. There were ears too, half-moon-shaped and covered in the same blond fur. They were too far from the animals to see their hands and feet well but they were able to climb from limb to limb with ease.

"Tree dwellers, just like our ancestors," Tobias said to Mark. "Notice the family groupings?" Tobias asked. "The large ones are most likely males. See that one? It's female. It's carrying a baby."

"Maybe it's carrying a midget," Roland suggested.

Meaghan and Sylvia withered him with glares.

"I mean maybe it's carrying a vertically challenged person-thing."

"These are the rightful heirs to this planet," Tobias said to Mark. "You're stealing their future."

"They're monkeys, Tobias," Mark said. "They eat, they poop, they procreate. Nothing more."

"Just because they live in harmony with nature doesn't mean they

aren't intelligent. Besides, it doesn't matter what they are now, it matters what they'll evolve into."

"We're not going to wait around to see, are we?" Roland asked, slapping at an unnamed biting insect.

"They'll always be monkeys," Mark said flatly.

"We'll see who owns this planet after the U.N. gets a look at my recording," Tobias said. "I'm going to get a better shot."

"We'll wait five minutes, then we leave with or without you," Mark said.

Christy crawled over and took Tobias's space beside Mark.

"He's an idiot," Mark said.

"He's an activist," Christy said.

Tobias crept through the grass, pausing every few yards to make sure the animals were still in the trees. Christy saw no change in their behavior, although three or four were watching Tobias approach. When he was below the animals, one of the largest climbed limb to limb toward Tobias. Mark lifted his rifle, sighting along the barrel, tracking the animal. Tobias kept still, the camera on the creature moving above him. Finally, the animal stopped directly above Tobias and stared down. Tobias kept his eye to the recorder, the creature perched only fifteen feet above him.

"He's taking a big risk," Mark whispered, the rifle aimed and ready.

After a long slow look, its curiosity was satisfied and the big animal lifted his head, turned, and defecated on Tobias. Cursing, Tobias stood, wiping feces off his face and then his camera. While Tobias cleaned himself and his camera, the animal turned again and urinated on him. Floyd, Mark, Charlie, and Roland erupted in loud guffaws, startling the creatures in the treetops. They were still laughing when Tobias came back, wiping his face and hands with leaves.

"Like I said, Tobias," Mark said, trying to control his laughing. "They eat, they procreate, and they poop. Oh, and they pee too."

Floyd, Charlie, and Roland guffawed again and Mark shook with mirth.

Controlling himself, Mark said, "As discoverer of this species you have the right to name it."

Trying to clean his hair of the brown feces, Tobias said, "No one has the right to name them. They will name themselves when the time is right."

"You're refusing the right to name them?" Mark asked seriously.

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll name them," Mark said. "From this moment forward these creatures shall be known as 'poopers.' "

Laughter erupted again and this time Christy let slip a giggle.

Tobias stewed in the back of the shuttle on the trip back to New Jerusalem. He smelled like fresh manure and the rest of the fact-finders were content to let him sulk. Christy took advantage of her connection with Mark and was on the flight deck when Shelly radioed, asking Mark and Floyd to come to the Remples'. Then she added, "Bring Christy, we have a situation here."

The Remples lived just on the outskirts of New Jerusalem. They were the organizational heart of the Fellowship, planning for the development of the infrastructure of an entire planet, assessing needs, setting priorities, placing orders. Their house was like most Christy had seen, with a kitchen, a small living room, two bedrooms on the main floor, and a loft. When Mark and Christy entered, they found Daniel sitting at the kitchen table, angry and defiant. Shelly and Micah were standing by the kitchen stove sipping coffee, Evelyn was at the table with Daniel, her eyes puffy and red.

Faith was not in the room.

"What's wrong, Evelyn?" Floyd asked, glaring at Daniel.

Floyd and his son exchanged hateful looks. There was no love left between them. Christy remembered the first time she'd seen Floyd and his son, Daniel sitting on his daddy's lap, while they watched news about the
Rising Savior
. Now Daniel was nearly as big as his father, more defiant with every pound he put on.

"Tell your father, Daniel," Evelyn said, eyes red, voice firm.

Daniel turned his back on his father.

"Someone tell me," Floyd roared.

"Daniel's got a girl in trouble," Evelyn said. "Melody is pregnant."

Face flushed, hands clenched, Floyd was so angry it made it hard for him to speak.

"Little Melody Crane?" Floyd said. "The Cranes are good people, Daniel, and you did this to their little girl."

Now Daniel turned to face his father.

"She's almost as old as I am. Besides, she wanted it."

Floyd slapped Daniel across the face, Daniel jumping to his feet, squaring off with his father.

"Don't ever hit me again!" he said. "I won't let you touch me anymore, not that way, not any way. You can't make me do things anymore."

"You'll marry her," Floyd said. "You'll do the right thing and marry her."

"I won't," Daniel said. "Besides, how do I know I'm even the father?"

Floyd's arm flinched, as if he stifled the urge to slap his son again. Daniel saw the movement and smirked, feeling like an equal now.

"It was over between me and Melody anyway," Daniel said. "I've got my eye on a new girl."

Floyd trembled with rage and tears dripped from Evelyn's eyes.

"The Cranes asked for a community meeting," Shelly said. "They're demanding biblical justice."

"I won't
go
to court again," Daniel said.

"You will, and you'll abide by the decision," Floyd said.

"Or what? Stop feeding me at all? My girlfriends sneak me food anyway."

Each of Daniel's needles struck home, hurting his father as he intended, but also his mother. This nuclear family was in meltdown, Christy knew, and she could think of only one way to save it.

The court met the following Saturday night, the church filled to standing room only. It was raining hard when they gathered, and everyone came in wet, exacerbating a gloomy atmosphere. The fact-finders were all there, eager to see how the cult's justice system worked. Daniel was escorted in by four men, each larger than he. Now Daniel sat in the front row on the right, his family beside him. The Cranes were on the left, father, mother, and four children, Melody the oldest. Melody kept her head down, blond hair hanging loose, covering her face.

Five chairs were lined up across the front, Mark sitting in the middle, Micah on his right, Ira on his left. Two men Christy didn't know sat on either end. Mark opened with silence, letting everyone clear their minds and seek the leading of the Lord. Daniel shuffled his feet, rocked in his squeaky chair, being deliberately annoying. After twenty minutes Mark prayed this meeting would find God's justice. Then Mark asked the Cranes to present their case. Mr. Crane rose, facing the crowd, not the judges. A tall, thin man, hair brown; his daughter clearly favored her mother.

"Everyone knows my Melody. She's a good girl. Always in church, always placed high in the Bible verse competition. A good student in school. Maybe not the best, but a hard worker. She asked Jesus into her heart when she was five. She grew up in the Fellowship—well, you all know that. She never gave her mother or me any reason not to trust her. Never got into a lick of trouble, until she started hanging around with that boy."

Mr. Crane pointed at Daniel, who winked at him. Mr. Crane reddened, his eyes narrowed, and he trembled with rage. When he could speak again, his words were carefully selected, his tone venomous.

"He took advantage of her," Mr. Crane continued. "He seduced her. I don't like saying this, Floyd and Evelyn, but you know he hasn't been the same since they took him from you. He's got an evil streak. He's been a bad influence on everyone who's tried to befriend him. Now he's got my Melody in trouble. We demand biblical justice."

"What would that be?" Mark asked.

"We want Daniel Remple to marry Melody."

The crowd erupted in "Amens," and shouted agreement. Mark let them vent, then said, "Floyd and Evelyn, do you have something you'd like to say."

Floyd started to rise, but Daniel jumped up.

"I'll speak for myself!" Daniel said.

Floyd sat, relieved not to have to defend his son's actions. Now that he had the floor, Daniel didn't have anything to say. He turned toward the crowd behind him, looking around the room. Christy followed Daniel's gaze. When Daniel found Tobias in the back of the church, he stopped his search. Tobias began working through the crowd along the left wall, moving to the front. When he was close he nodded, Daniel getting confidence from his presence.