The Children of Eternity (48 page)

“It’s her or us, Christopher—choose,” replied Jerry.

Christopher sighed and activated the cannon. He did his best to get a lock on the virtually invisible target. The computer wouldn’t lock. This would have to be a guess.

The
Hope
swung sharply to the left and dropped into level flight. Its speed rapidly increased, passing Mach 2 in a matter of just a few seconds. In those seconds Christopher took his shot, two of them.

“Missed,” said Christopher.

“That was what I was hoping for,” said Jerry, banking hard to the right and then left again. On the horizon he spotted a towering sulfur firestorm. He headed straight for it.

“Mach three and accelerating,” said Christopher. “What are you trying to do? That’s a firestorm out there.”

“You noticed,” replied Jerry.

Three particle beams shot around the
Hope
. Two were very wide, one only ten yards off. They felt a strong jolt in its wake. Again Jerry made an evasive turn.

“She’s good,” he said. “I taught her well.”

“A bit too well,” noted Christopher. “Do you want me to return fire?”

“No,” replied Jerry, “you’ll give away our position.”

“Mach four!” said Christopher. “Jerry, these engines weren’t designed to maintain this level of RPM.”

“These are the kind of problems I have when there’s an engineer in the backseat,” said Jerry. “Nag, nag, nag, telling me what this ship can’t do. Let me show you what it
can
do.”

Jerry followed a swaying course toward the storm that was giving Christopher a very uneasy stomach. The storm was coming up fast. Below they could see the coastline of the Sea of Fire rapidly coming up.

“Mach five,” said Christopher, trying to remain calm. “I just thought you ought to know.”

“I know,” replied Jerry, “it’s a new atmosphere speed record for a dagger. We’ll call Guinness later.”

“Guinness?” asked Christopher.

“Never mind,” replied Jerry, whose eyes were on the engine temperature gauges, which were rising into the red.

“Jerry, I can’t see Karen’s dagger on the radar,” said Christopher. “Do you think we may have lost her?”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” replied Jerry. “I wish it was anyone else but Karen back there. She was the best of the students I had this past week, a former Israeli fighter pilot. She has real heart and uncanny senses when it comes to flying.”

Christopher looked at the radar screen, then at their airspeed indicator. “At this speed, we’re less than one minute from the cloud boundary. Jerry, those are concentrated sulfuric acid droplets out there, mixed with liquid sulfur. If you hit the boundary at this speed I can’t guarantee that the engines will survive, to say nothing of the hull.”

“We aren’t going to hit it at this speed,” said Jerry. “About fifteen seconds from impact I’m putting her in full reverse. Then we’re shutting down the engines and closing the engine manifolds. From there…just hold on.”

Two particle beams shot past the
Hope
. Both were uncomfortably close.

“She’s been riding in our wake all this time,” said Christopher. “That’s why I couldn’t see her.”

Abruptly Christopher felt the sudden deceleration. Even with the inertial stabilizers on, it threw him forward. There was a sudden roar and severe turbulence as Dagger 22 shot past them, missing them by a matter of only a dozen or so yards. They were still doing better than Mach 2 when they entered the cloud. They were instantly engulfed in the deadly mists, which were illuminated irregularly by powerful bolts of lightning.

Jerry banked hard to the right. By this point Christopher was totally disoriented. Even his instruments were giving conflicting readings. Then the mists broke and they were free of the cloud. The engines roared to life once more as they hurtled toward space.

“Nice, Jerry,” said Christopher, “but I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Just direct the radar aft,” said Jerry. “Let me know when you see Karen come out of those clouds.”

It was better than twenty seconds before Christopher saw the blip on the screen. “There she is,” he said. “Looks like her cloaking device is down.” There was a momentary pause. “Jerry, she’s dropping awfully fast. I think she’s lost power.”

“Monrovia flight control, this is Dagger Twenty-two,” said Karen in an amazingly calm tone. “I’ve experienced double engine failure and am losing altitude. I’m going down over the Sea of Fire. There’s no way I’ll be able to reach the coastline. I’m sorry, I’ve lost them. Express my apologies to Lord Monroe.”

It was not flight control but Lord Monroe who responded. “Karen, hold on. I’m sending three daggers to your location. Hang on, girl, we’ll get you out of there somehow, I promise.”

“No, my lord,” insisted Karen. “There’s nothing you can do for me. I’m sorry about the dagger.”

“Hang the dagger,” replied Tim, “it’s you I’m concerned about. Three daggers are on their way.”

A silence followed. “Jerry, if you can hear me, it looks like you won this one,” said Karen. “I salute you—you are the superior pilot.”

Jerry pushed the nose of the
Hope
forward. “I’ve got you on my radar, Karen. I’m coming.”

“To do what?” asked Karen. “There’s nothing you can do for me.”

“Karen, shut down power to your engines and attempt a restart,” said Jerry.

“What engines?” objected Karen. “My turbines are a mass of melted metal. They’re frozen in place. My intakes must have sucked in about fifty pounds of molten sulfur. I guess I should have been smarter than to fly into that cloud.”

“Extend your wings to full,” said Jerry. “Get all of the glide out of her you can.”

“I have,” replied Karen. “I’m just passing twenty-eight thousand feet. The coast is about fifty miles away. Do the math, Jerry. This thing isn’t a glider. I’m going to fall short by twenty-some miles. Ditching this bird over the Sea of Fire wouldn’t be my first choice of emergency landing spots. At least it won’t kill me, though I wish it would.”

I’m just five miles above you,” said Jerry. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“So you can do what?” asked Karen. “Watch me go into the Sea of Fire?”

Jerry shook his head. He didn’t reply.

“Jerry, can you get us within fifty yards of her and hold a parallel course?” asked Christopher.

“Sure,” said Jerry, “for a few minutes, until she hits the sea.”

“Then do it,” said Christopher. “Give me a chance to try one last thing.”

The
Hope
was passing 14,000 feet as it came into a parallel course with Dagger 22, about 100 feet off of its wing. The dagger was pretty beaten up, barely flying, and descending rapidly.

“Hold this position for as long as you can,” said Christopher.

“That would be about three minutes,” said Jerry.

Christopher offered a silent prayer and focused his thoughts on the dagger. Yes, he had done this before, but it had been taxing. This time he would have to do it for a far longer period of time.

“What do you think you’re doing?” objected Karen.

“Rescuing you,” replied Jerry. “Just hold course.”

For a time nothing seemed to be happening. Then gradually the dagger’s rate of descent began to slow. A minute later they were flying straight and level at just over 10,000 feet.

“What’s happening?” asked Karen. “I’m showing straight and level flight. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“You just have to believe in miracles,” said Jerry. He glanced back at Christopher, whose total focus was on the dagger. “Keep it up, buddy, you’re doing it.”

Christopher continued to focus. He thought about the fishing lure he had levitated four years ago. He imagined the dagger to be that lure. It wasn’t heavy; it was so light, easy to pick up. He imagined holding it in his hand.

“We’re losing altitude again,” said Jerry. “We’ve still got twenty-eight miles to the coast.”

“I can’t keep this up,” said Christopher. “It’s too heavy.”

The dagger’s rate of descent was still increasing. Jerry looked over the
Hope’s
nose to see the Sea of Fire coming up fast. Their previous rate of descent had resumed.

“Hey guys, I need some help here,” said Karen. “We’re still a bit too far out to begin our descent.”

Jerry looked back at Christopher. “You’ve got to carry her farther, just a bit farther.”

“That ship is so heavy,” gasped Christopher.

“Come on, Christopher, just a little bit farther,” said Jerry.

“I’ll try,” said Christopher.

“No,” objected Jerry, “do or do not…there is no try. You told me that once. Now do it, Christopher.”

Christopher looked out at the dagger once more. He remembered his grand meetings with the Father. “It’s not by might, it’s not by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord.”

They were down to 3,500 feet when the dagger nearly leveled once more. They were still descending, though slowly.

“Keep it coming,” said Karen, “just keep it coming.”

“Twelve miles,” said Jerry, “just twelve more miles.”

Christopher put his heart and soul into it. For the very first time, he felt truly challenged—perhaps facing a task that he could not accomplish.

They had dropped to less than 300 feet when the one-mile mark was reached. No, he couldn’t lose it now, not now.

They crossed above the high cliffs at the edge of the Sea of Fire with only 20 feet to spare. Karen’s dagger slammed into the loose earth beyond the cliff pretty hard. The impact collapsed the landing gear within seconds, and the craft slid through the rocky terrain for 200 yards before coming to a stop.

The
Hope
hovered about 50 yards off while Karen emerged from the cockpit, a bit banged up but OK. She waved to Jerry that she was fine. On the radar Jerry noted the approach of the three daggers sent on the rescue mission. It was time to go.

The
Hope
was once more on its way home, climbing at a steep angle through the atmosphere, ever accelerating. Jerry watched his radar as the daggers landed around Karen’s ship and picked her up—mission accomplished. Jerry glanced back to find Christopher sound asleep. He wondered if he would sleep the whole way home.

An hour later and 8,000 miles into space, Christopher finally awoke. He gazed about at the starless, velvety darkness. “Did she make it?” he asked in a drowsy voice.

“Yeah, she made it,” confirmed Jerry, “thanks to you. We’re about two minutes from a hyperspace jump. You may find it interesting.”

“Sounds nice,” said Christopher.

“I spoke to Professor Faraday a few minutes ago,” continued Jerry. “They’ll be expecting us. I think the two of us will be answering questions and completing reports for some days to come. I suspect that we’ll be home inside of ninety minutes.”

There was no response to Jerry’s comment. He looked back to see that Christopher had faded off to sleep again. Jerry smiled. “You’re not much company,” he said, more to himself than to Christopher. “At least it’s a short flight.”

Christopher awoke to a familiar face. That face had a beaming smile. “Hi, Mom,” he said in a weak voice.

“Hi, Christopher,” she said. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Where am I?” asked Christopher.

“You’re home—in our home anyway. Your friend Jerry thought to bring you here rather than taking you back to your apartment at the facility. I’m glad he did. He told us about your adventure, the whole thing. Your father and I are just so proud of you. If you’d have told me where you were going, I’d probably have been frightened to death. I guess it was best that you didn’t.”

“How long have I been asleep?” asked Christopher.

“Almost two days here,” said his mother. “I’ve just been waiting for you to wake up. Jerry told us that it could take a few days. We’ve wanted to spend time with you. We’ve missed you so much these past fourteen years. Being with you is…well, sort of special.”

Christopher reached out and took her hand. “I’ve missed you too. I’ve looked in on you from time to time using your book in the Hall of Records. I’ve seen all of the wonderful things you and Dad did to spread the Gospel on Earth, especially toward the end. I’m proud to be your son.” Christopher paused.