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Authors: James F. David

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BOOK: Judgment Day
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CHAPTER 123 FIRE

The alternative to the belief that some people will be consigned to hell is the teaching called universalism, that everyone will be saved in the end. I find universalism to be a very pleasing doctrine. I wish it were true.


UNCOMMON DECENCY
, RICHARD J. MOUW

FELLOWSHIP COMPOUND, MEXICO

R
eady to take command of the troops surrounding the occupied sphere, Colonel Watson stepped out from the cargo modules onto the landing pad just as the sphere shot into the air, triggering a deadly chain of events. One of his men had been leaning into the porthole when the sphere took off, and he went with it. The sphere tore through the Apache helicopter, impacting just behind the cockpit. The Apache's fuel tanks ruptured, and two dozen men below were drenched in gasoline, waves of the flammable liquid washing across the concrete toward the cargo containers. Continuing skyward, the sphere split the ship in two, the tail section spinning out of control, the tail rotor tearing into the men gathered below. Then the primary rotors came apart, metal fragments flung in all directions, slicing and dicing everything in their path. The bulk of the copter tilted when the tail section was lost, then dropped, crushing three men before exploding in flames, igniting spilled fuel. Flames engulfed the survivors, human torches scattering like chimney sparks in the night. Licking across the landing pad, the flames spread to the cargo containers, finding new abundant fuel in the packing debris scattered around the containers.

The sphere continued to rocket skyward breaking the sound barrier, the sonic boom vibrating through the compound. Air friction heated the shell of the sphere and the interior through the open porthole, but it could not harm Floyd. What little life he had left was crushed out of him in the uncontrolled takeoff. The interior temperature climbed to four hundred degrees before the atmosphere thinned to the point of little resistance. The heat now radiated into space, the sphere leaving the gravity well of Earth on a trajectory taking it past the moon and into space, its cargo, one dead human being.

Shouting orders no one heard, Watson fled the inferno, seeking shelter in the stacks of cargo. Soon these too were on fire and he continued to retreat. A dozen of his men lay dead back on the pad, a dozen more badly burned. The fire was spreading through the cargo, burning toward the hangar. If it caught fire they could lose spare parts, records, and computer files. Prepared for a firefight, not to fight fire, Colonel Watson had no choice but to save what he could.

CHAPTER 124 WORRY

A wise man heeds his father's instruction .

—PROVERBS 13:1

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

T
he television went blank, Josh turning it off with the remote. Staring at the blank screen, Daniel could still see the last scene. The wrecked helicopter, men sliced to pieces, soldiers burned to death. The images of the bodies of members of the Fellowship were fixed in his mind too.

"Are you all right?" Josh asked. "I shouldn't have let you watch that."

"I'm okay. I told you I don't care," Daniel said, trying to convince himself. "You can turn it back on."

"No."

Daniel got up, carrying his melted ice cream toward his room.

"You can watch it, I know you want to. I don't mind," Daniel said.

Closing his bedroom door, Daniel pressed his ear to the door, hearing the TV come back on. Grabbing his Walkman, he put his headphones on and searched the AM dial until he found a station broadcasting the assault. Despite denying it for years, he found he did care what happened to his mother and sister and, to his surprise, his father.

CHAPTER 125 PANIC

Then I saw the beast and the kings of the earth and their armies gathered together to make war against the rider on the horse and his army.

—REVELATION 19:19

NEW HOPE STATION

I
ra, you better look at this," Cynthia said, pulling Ira toward the radar screen.

One of Cynthia's assignments was monitoring the space around New Hope, tracking satellites, approaching and departing spheres, Fellowship shuttles, space cruisers, and Ark-class ships. Normally, a U.S. space shuttle launch wouldn't attract much attention because the U.S. shuttles weren't capable of reaching New Hope station. It was a warning buzzer that called for Cynthia's attention. Ira came to Cynthia's station and studied the radar with his one good eye.

"This can't be right," Ira said. "A shuttle can't fly this high."

"It's accelerating, Ira," Sandy said.

Then before their eyes the trajectory changed sharply, shuttle
Atlantis
now on a collision course with the station.

"Evacuate everyone to the ships," Ira said. "Now!" Then turning to Shelly he said, "Where are your children, Shelly?"

"They're on
Covenant,"
Shelly said. "Rollerblading."

Empty Ark-size ships were used as dormitories and for other activities.

Rollerblading in an empty cargo hold was popular with the children.

Cynthia, Sandy, and others began shouting, clearing the control room, then returned to their consoles, broadcasting to the entire station. Hundreds of settlers gathered around monitors throughout the station listened dumbly, then confused and fearful, they began to move. The resulting confusion clogged corridors and hatchways. Within a minute there was gridlock on the station.

Shelly remained in the control room, watching the radar as
Atlantis
came. Shelly turned on the exterior cameras, rotating them toward Earth and the approaching shuttle. She found it, centering
Atlantis
in the middle of the screen. It was coming fast. To avoid colliding it would have to slow soon, and to do that it must either rotate and fire the main engines, or fire the maneuvering jets to alter course. It did neither.

Coming straight on, the shuttle slowed with no visible exhaust. Then the cargo bay doors began to open. Something came out of the shuttle on an arm, pointing at the station. It was long, nearly the length of the hatch. Without a flash or any sign of a mechanism, objects streamed from the end of the device. Shouting a useless warning, Shelly instinctively braced for an explosion. Instead she felt the station shudder, then suddenly they were in a hurricane—the hull had been breached and the station's atmosphere was rushing to the vacuum of space. Triggered by explosive decompression, automatic doors on the station closed, temporarily stemming the air loss. Each module had emergency air supplies and now their pressure valves blew, the tanks venting, replenishing the lost air. When the roar of the emergency tanks faded, Shelly joined Ira at the engineering station. Module three was showing zero pressure. Anyone inside that module was dead.

Then the station vibrated again, the monitor showing the strange gun firing at module nine.

"They're isolating us," Ira said. "We're cut off from
Prophet and Genesis."

More violent vibration sent loose objects clattering to the deck as the attack continued.

"There are people in those sections," Cynthia said. "They're killing them."

"Sandy, contact our ships," Ira ordered. "Find out if they have pilots on board."

Internal lines were jammed with panicked people begging for help, screams in the background. Switching to radio, Sandy called the ships one at a time. Only
Exodus
responded—the ship had a pilot who was powering up the drive. Ira ordered him to get away as soon as possible.

"Look at the monitor," Cynthia shouted.

The attacking shuttle had nudged against the station. The nose of
Atlantis
was open, the blue arc from cutting metal could be seen where the shuttle touched the station. At this angle they could now see into the bay of the shuttle and there in the back was one of their spheres.

"It has to be the
Rising Savior," Ira said
.

"John's ship," Shelly said. "They killed John to get it and now they're killing us with it."

Movement in the shuttle bay caught her attention. Men in silver environment suits were packed into the front, ready to assault the station.

"Why couldn't they just let us go?" Shelly said. "Why?"

"Because God and Satan are at war, Shelly," Ira said. "And neither will settle for a tie."

CHPATER 126 THE DANIEL OPTION

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. 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 a threshing floor in the summer.

—DANIEL 2:31-35

EARTH'S ORBIT

W
ith his part done, Kent Thorpe relaxed in the sphere. The troops in space suits were moving into the station now, securing New Hope station. Was Ira in that damaged module, he wondered, lying dead, his lungs frozen, his body swollen from the gases released from solution by the instant vacuum? He would know soon. One of his monitors came to life, the picture broadcast from the helmet of a soldier. The picture bounced, impossible to follow, as the man climbed into the station. Once inside, the artificial gravity of the station made it possible to walk, the picture stabilizing. Thorpe was shocked by what he saw. The module was full of bodies. Men, women, and children—many in their parents' arms—lay against the wall, sucked there by the explosive decompression. The horrific sight sickened him, but he quickly rationalized it, blaming the cultists for not sharing their technology. Warming to his rationalization, he now blamed Ira for the deaths since it was his selfishness that had caused all this, and the death of Thorpe's one love. No, it wasn't Thorpe's fault those people had died, it was Ira's, and he would pay for their deaths, and the other deaths he had caused.

Tuning to the cult's radio frequencies, Thorpe picked up a transmission.

"Daniel, Daniel, Daniel," someone was shouting. "Implement the Daniel Option."

Thorpe recognized the voice as Ira Breitling's. Pressing the transmit button he broke in on the broadcast.

"You're a murderer, Ira Breitling. You murdered Constance Wong,"

Thorpe said.

"Who is this?" Ira radioed back.

"This is Kent Thorpe."

Silence, and Thorpe fantasized Ira trembling at the mention of his name.

"Kent, is that really you? Where are you?"

"I'm in your
Rising Savior
. I rebuilt it. I've discovered your secret."

"You blame me for the death of Constance?" Ira asked.

"Your carelessness killed her."

"It was an accident, Kent. Constance was a friend of mine."

Breitling sounded contrite, but not afraid, and that wasn't good enough.

"There are troops coming to get you right now, Breitling. Resist and they'll kill you. Surrender and you'll spend the rest of your life in jail. I hope you resist."

"How could you carry so much hate for so long?" Ira asked.

Thorpe didn't answer because he couldn't admit the truth to himself. His hate would have faded if there had been someone to take Contance's place, but he was a difficult man to love. Rejected by his peers all his life, he had grown up lonely, watching the other kids play, date, go to dances, marry. Constance had been the one exception in a solitary life, a glimpse into what life could be. When that life was snatched away from him, he longed for the lost companionship like an addict for heroin. With another fix, he might have had the strength to forgive Ira, but his life had been one of loneliness and hurt. The only way to survive those emotions was to channel them into hate. His hate gave him reason to live.

"They're coming for you, Ira. Do you hear me? They're coming."

"I forgive you, Kent," Ira said.

Ira stopped speaking after that, and Kent never heard his voice again. A minute later the shuttle
Atlantis
shook violently. Switching to the military frequency, Thorpe heard, "They just blew the station in half." Switching to the external camera he saw debris flying into space around the joint connecting the module the shuttle was attached to and the rest of the station. Slowly, a gap appeared between two modules—the station was coming apart.

CHAPTER 127 SEPARATION

What about dealing with Nazis and Satanists and people who advocate legalized incest and the heretics in our churches? What does it mean to treat
such
persons with gentleness and reverence?


UNCOMMON DECENCY
, RICHARD J. MOUW

NEW HOPE STATION

N
ew Hope had once been sixteen modules, two rows of eight joined together with connecting corridors. Four of those modules had been moved to orbit around planet America, leaving twelve cylinders connected by four corridors, the cylinders numbered one through six along the space side, and then seven through twelve on the Earth side. The control centers were located in modules two and eight. The Ark-class ship
Prophet
was docked at module six and
Covenant
at module one. Their cruisers
Exodus and Genesis
were docked at modules four and ten. Shuttles were docked at modules seven and twelve and one on
Prophet
. Four spheres were at the station, one docked to
Prophet and
one each on the three shuttles.

The U.S. space shuttle
Atlantis had
attacked modules three and nine, perforating the modules, making them uninhabitable. After
Atlantis
attached itself to module nine, troops in pressure suits occupied that module, and crossed over into module three. They were now forcing the doors into connecting modules that were packed with panicky settlers trying to get to
Prophet and Covenant. Ira
, Shelly, and the other leaders were isolated at one end of the station, unable to help those trying to get to the Ark ships.

Keeping the station between his ship and the attacking shuttle, Micah nosed the shuttle
Jacob's Ladder
against module three, young Bobby Johnson sitting beside him in the copilot's seat. More connecting seals blew, this time between modules two and three. The station separated in a spray of ice particles and debris. He could see one of the attacking soldiers in a silver suit in the gap opening between modules, stumbling, trying to find a handhold. There were more explosions at the other joints, and now he heard Ira over the radio.

"We've blown all of the seals, Micah. We're cutting gravity in those modules."

Applying power, Micah gently pushed the module he was butted against. Module three was connected to module nine, and
Atlantis
was on the other side. With luck, some of the troops would still be inside. As the module finished tearing free, the soldier in the space suit drifted out of the gap, vainly trying to grab hold of something. Another soldier appeared, his legs floating out the opening.

"Micah, look!" Bobby shouted.

Micah followed the teenager's point to see the mechanical arm from
Atlantis
carrying the weapon, extending above the module, the weapon bending to point at them. Normally separating modules was delicate work but Micah had nothing to lose. Recklessly, he applied power, the modules sliding from the middle of the station. He had centered the
Jacob's Ladder
on module three, but missed the actual center of gravity. Bashing into the other modules, the segment bounced and twisted as it came free, the weapons arm attached to
Atlantis
swayed with each jolt. With one last shove, modules three and nine were pushed free, taking
Atlantis and
its weapon with them. Mission accomplished, Micah reconfigured the shuttle's fields just as the weapon fired, a stream of pellets passing noiselessly over the top of their ship. Bobby was breathing rapidly, eyes wide, face wet with perspiration.

"Are you all right?" Micah asked.

"It's not what I expected. It's so quiet."

"But people are still dying—our people."

The modules were rotating now, looking like a floating dumbbell,
Atlantis
stuck to one end. With
Atlantis
unable to aim accurately, the pilot of
Exodus
took the opportunity, breaking free of the station. Ira looked back to see the rotation of the freed modules bring the shuttle around toward
Exodus
, the weapon arm angling at the fleeing ship.

"Exodus
, this is Micah," he shouted into the microphone. "They're going to fire."

Exodus
suddenly accelerated, angling below the station and away from the attacking shuttle.
Atlantis
fired anyway, the stream of particles chasing
Exodus
, missing the fleeing ship, the stream continuing toward the space station and the shuttle docked there.

"Oh, no," Micah said. "They're going to strafe the station."

BOOK: Judgment Day
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