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Authors: James F. David
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television. Cable, satellite, and broadcast networks were covering the story nonstop. One channel was broadcasting from the church she attended last night and another from in front of her motel. Other stations were interviewing NASA personnel or showing the orbit of the satellite. The same amateur video of the launch was being shown by everyone. She listened to two scientists speculating on how the Rising Savior was powered—one claimed it was nuclear fusion and the other high-intensity lasers. The most interesting story was the detainment of reporters at the launch site.
Two circling helicopters had been broadcasting pictures of the launch facility. There was little to be seen, so one of the pilots decided to land despite being waved away as he descended. The other helicopter hovered over the compound, covering what happened next. After the first helicopter landed a tractor drove out of the garage, a group of men in overalls following. A female reporter and a cameraman stepped out of the helicopter, the reporter holding out a microphone asking for an interview. Without a word the men pulled a cable from the tractor, attached it to the helicopter, and winched it tight. When the pilot climbed out to protest he was grabbed and handcuffed. Next the reporter was handcuffed. The cameraman resisted and three men had to wrestle him to the ground to cuff him, the camera dropping in the process. Then they were put into a van and driven away. The hovering helicopter followed the van down a dirt road through patches of woods to an exit where a county sheriff waited. The report ended with an exterior shot of the county jail where the news crew was being held on trespassing charges.
When the reports began to repeat Christy turned off the TV and left the room. Half the motel doors were open and men and women were walking freely from room to room. At the bottom of the stairs she noticed a hand-lettered sign taped to the pop machine saying $5 a can. Evelyn shouted, "No vacancy!" from the back room when Christy entered the lobby.
"It's me, Evelyn," Christy said.
Evelyn was apologizing as she came out of the back room.
"I'm sorry, dear. Those newspeople are rude and crude and they won't take no for an answer."
"And you're making them pay for it. Five hundred dollars a night? That wasn't the rate yesterday."
"Well, it's not like they can't afford it. Don't worry, dear, you pay the regular rate as long as you want to stay."
"Thank you. It's Sunday, aren't you and Floyd going to worship?"
"We couldn't get near the church. Those newspeople have it surrounded. Besides, everyone's supposed to stay away. They're going to be awfully disappointed when no one shows up for Sunday school."
Christy suspected they wouldn't let a Sunday pass without worshiping, but no invitation was forthcoming so she changed the subject.
"Where can I get some breakfast?"
"The Pig and Pancake is the best. It's just around the corner so you don't have to give up your parking spot."
Writing on a piece of motel stationery, Evelyn handed Christy a note.
"Give this to Keri or Josephine. They'll give you the regular rate because you're a friend."
The Pig and Pancake was a pink concrete block building with two large windows that turned the restaurant into a fishbowl. It was crowded inside and more people were standing out front, many smoking. Christy pushed her way inside to get her name on the waiting list. A grim, middle-aged waitress was keeping the list. She wore a pink checked uniform and had a pile of orange-red hair on her head. Her name tag read "JOSEPHINE." She broke into a smile when she saw Christy.
"I saw you at church last night," she boomed in a gravelly voice. "Evelyn called and said you were coming over. I got a table saved for you."
Josephine led her toward the back, those waiting grumbling behind her. Josephine took her to a back room with windows that gave a view of the gravel parking lot behind the building. An empty booth in the corner was set
Two circling helicopters had been broadcasting pictures of the launch facility. There was little to be seen, so one of the pilots decided to land despite being waved away as he descended. The other helicopter hovered over the compound, covering what happened next. After the first helicopter landed a tractor drove out of the garage, a group of men in overalls following. A female reporter and a cameraman stepped out of the helicopter, the reporter holding out a microphone asking for an interview. Without a word the men pulled a cable from the tractor, attached it to the helicopter, and winched it tight. When the pilot climbed out to protest he was grabbed and handcuffed. Next the reporter was handcuffed. The cameraman resisted and three men had to wrestle him to the ground to cuff him, the camera dropping in the process. Then they were put into a van and driven away. The hovering helicopter followed the van down a dirt road through patches of woods to an exit where a county sheriff waited. The report ended with an exterior shot of the county jail where the news crew was being held on trespassing charges.
When the reports began to repeat Christy turned off the TV and left the room. Half the motel doors were open and men and women were walking freely from room to room. At the bottom of the stairs she noticed a hand-lettered sign taped to the pop machine saying $5 a can. Evelyn shouted, "No vacancy!" from the back room when Christy entered the lobby.
"It's me, Evelyn," Christy said.
Evelyn was apologizing as she came out of the back room.
"I'm sorry, dear. Those newspeople are rude and crude and they won't take no for an answer."
"And you're making them pay for it. Five hundred dollars a night? That wasn't the rate yesterday."
"Well, it's not like they can't afford it. Don't worry, dear, you pay the regular rate as long as you want to stay."
"Thank you. It's Sunday, aren't you and Floyd going to worship?"
"We couldn't get near the church. Those newspeople have it surrounded. Besides, everyone's supposed to stay away. They're going to be awfully disappointed when no one shows up for Sunday school."
Christy suspected they wouldn't let a Sunday pass without worshiping, but no invitation was forthcoming so she changed the subject.
"Where can I get some breakfast?"
"The Pig and Pancake is the best. It's just around the corner so you don't have to give up your parking spot."
Writing on a piece of motel stationery, Evelyn handed Christy a note.
"Give this to Keri or Josephine. They'll give you the regular rate because you're a friend."
The Pig and Pancake was a pink concrete block building with two large windows that turned the restaurant into a fishbowl. It was crowded inside and more people were standing out front, many smoking. Christy pushed her way inside to get her name on the waiting list. A grim, middle-aged waitress was keeping the list. She wore a pink checked uniform and had a pile of orange-red hair on her head. Her name tag read "JOSEPHINE." She broke into a smile when she saw Christy.
"I saw you at church last night," she boomed in a gravelly voice. "Evelyn called and said you were coming over. I got a table saved for you."
Josephine led her toward the back, those waiting grumbling behind her. Josephine took her to a back room with windows that gave a view of the gravel parking lot behind the building. An empty booth in the corner was set
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