Ryan--Space Missionary--Part II

[ZiSunka]

The sky was huge and blue on the day that Ryan reported to the ETS. He was finally going on a real mission to Darkhell.

He thought back to three years before, when he and his school friends tried to get to Darkhell, thinking that in some way they were doing God a favor. It had ended badly, and Ryan was emotionally crushed by the failure. He loved the people of Darkhell, and he loved the Lord, but somehow that had all gotten tossed away, and the "mission" had become all about them and how much adventure they were going to have. God answered Ryan's frightened prayers, though, and at the last minute, the group had to abandon the landing on Darkhell.

It was a whole year of soul-searching and submission to God before Ryan was accepted to a legitimate mission agency. Then it had been two more years of training before he was ready to become a subordinate member of a mission team. But even that mission had not been to Darkhell.

His first mission had been to Loveland, a large city on Peaceworld, where he worked with innercity children. But that mission was for his benefit, so that he could see what mission work was like.

Then he was accepted to a mission on Barren, in the city of Desolate. There he was a janitor in a health center for migrant workers. He really learned to love people there. Even though they were desperately poor, each of those workers and their children were rich in humanity, and Ryan grew to love them like no others. He even considered abandoning his desire to go to Darkhell and stay at that mission. But eventually that call came that brought him to this ETS. He was going to Darkhell.

Ryan again would be a subordinate member of the team. Again, his role on Darkhell would be janitor at a homeless shelter. And Ryan was grateful for that. For one thing, he knew he wasn't ready to lead a mission, and he knew he didn't know enough about Darkhell to relate to the people there in a meaningful way. The mission team was being lead by a man who had grown up on Darkhell and a woman who moved there when she was a young woman. They knew all about the people and about life on Darkhell, because they had lived there and escaped. No one who hadn't lived on Darkhell could relate the message of Christ adequately to the people.

Ryan also loved being a janitor in the lowliest places, because it reminded him of Jesus washing people's feet. He wanted to be the most humble servant, in honor of Christ. He actually didn't care anymore if he ever got to lead a mission. He was just grateful to be serving these Darkhellian people whom God loved so much.

He found the rest of the team waiting in the cybercafe. Some were making calls back to loved ones they would miss, and others were making calls ahead to check on arrangements at Deathwish. Others were enjoying last Earth meals. the food on Deathwish was rich, but it was not nourishing or tasty.

Ryan sat down at a visi-screen. He wanted to call Rachel, to check on her, to see if she was all right. He hadn't actually talked to her in three years, but he did sometimes get email from her. She was still on Earth, and worked as a kindergarten teacher. Ryan was glad that she had settled into a career that was so right for her and that she had become so willing to serve the Lord humbly wherever He called her. He kind of wondered if he loved Rachel, but once again, he had to defer exploration of that. When and if he came home from Darkhell, he would spend more time thinking about his future with Rachel. For now, he had to invest himself fully in Darkhell.

A buzzing voice came over the visi-screen, announcing that the PTV was ready Ryan's team. He picked up his bag and walked silently with the rest of the team to the PTV and took his seat. The team held hands and prayed, as they had prayed many times a day during preparation for the trip. They didn't know exactly what would lie ahead for them at Deathwish, but they knew that God's presence was already there. Whatever happened to them would happen through God's own hand.

The PTV launched...

 

[ZiSunka]

Deathwish, the capital city of Darkhell, sits at the edge of a blood-red ocean called Mara Sangre. Mara Sangren, in High Darkhellian language, the name means, "Sea of Blood." But in the Low Darkhellian, the language of the common people of Darkhell, Mara Sangren means, "Bitter Wounds."

The water of Mara Sangren is the same chemical as water on Earth, despite its color. Its strange rufous hue is caused by extreme pollution, which causes massive blooms of diatoms, tiny red organisms that live in the water and feed off the gray oozing goo that pours out of every sewer pipe. Every so often, the diatoms themselves die off, poisoned by their own waste, and the Mara Sangren turns a deep, dismal black. When this happens, the water smells of death, and tastes like a rotted tooth.

Ryan stood at the edge of this great sea, looking out over the black water. He was waiting for the sun to rise, looking for that one moment when the yellow sun would turn the sky brilliant violet, and the water would appear to be cornflower blue. It was a moment that Ryan looked for every morning. For some reason, this brief glimpse of beauty helped hold Ryan together emotionally, though the hardships of living and working on Darkhell were nearly overwhelming. Ryan loved serving, but the deep needs of the Darkhellians took every bit of his energy every day. He was thankful that he got to come to Darkhell as a young man. He didn't know how the leaders of the mission, who were middle-aged, could keep up.

The sun came over the horizon, and Ryan drank in the beautiful display of amazing colors. He thanked God for making beauty in even this desparately ugly planet. He stood and stretched, and began the long walk back to the mission building. He was ready to start his day.

Winston Ulmus was waiting for him when he arrived. Winston and his wife Panda were the leaders of the mission. They had both been residents of Darkhell at one time, and after their separate escapes, they found each other on Earth. Discovering their common backgrounds, their amazing escapes from Darkhell, and their love of the Lord, Winston and Panda decided that they must return to Darkhell someday to help others escape. They married and began to get ready to make Darkhell their home once again, this time as missionaries, not victims.

"Ryan, we need you to help Andra today," Winston said. Ryan nodded. He knew that Andra had a difficult task, and he was fine with helping her, even though he would have to finish all his own work yet today, too.

Andra... (insert Andra's biography here)

 

[ZiSunka]

Andra Starker-Arbeiter was the mission's doctor. From sun-up to sun-down every day, Andra and her staff labored to give medical attention to anyone who walked through the door. Darkhell had never developed medicine, they had no concept of how to heal, and Andra was the only doctor on the whole planet.

She ran the clinic, saw patients, managed the staff, despensed medicines, and generally wore herself out everyday. Someone would bring her lunch and dinner, which she would eat on the run, never stopping for an extended break. Andra had only two nurses and no pharmacist. And since it was still illegal to be a Christian on Darkhell, punishable by gruesome death, the clinic had to be kept secret. They couldn't allow long lines of people to gather outside without drawing the attention of the police.

Ryan's job would be, as usual, to keep people from standing around outside the derelict warehouse where they might be seen. He would take them in through a side door that lead to a large room. Folks could wait there until there was room inside the clinic's intake room. They didn't dare just hang a sign on the door, for fear that someone might see it and rat them out. Ryan often feared that an undercover cop might come to the clinic and they would all end up arrested and executed. So, before he ever opened the side door, Ryan knelt to pray to the Father for protection. He prayed that God might keep them invisible to the police, but visible to the people in need. God had never let Ryan down, and the clinic continued to function without detection by the police.

Ryan reported to Andra just in time for staff prayers. The senior nurse, Faith, led the prayer this day, and Ryan bowed his head and waited his turn. Faith, Andra and Luce all prayed that God would show them each patient's problem clearly and exactly, that He would guide their hands in treating them, and that He would command the patients' bodies to heal. Ryan added his "amen" to each of them. When it was finally his turn, Ryan simply added his prayer that God would continue to provide the medicines that were transported to them by courier every week. He prayed for the safety and security of the courier and the medicines. All of them added their "amen"s, and the door to the intake room was opened. It was already crowded with sick people, so Ryan hurried outside to prevent a line from forming in the alley.

The mission had been in Deathwish for five months by this time.

The alley was narrow and dark. The clinic had to be set up in the least conspicuous place they could find. This part of town had been abandoned twenty years before, and all the neighboring buildings were empty and forgotten. The smell from Mara Sangren wafted through the alley when the wind blew just right. No one came to this part of town except the rattos, small native rodent-like creatures that had adapted to the presence of humans.

Rattos lived in the wild until four hundred years ago when people from Earth first set foot on this planet. There were no homonid creatures on the planet at all before then, and all the wildlife lived in their native habitats undisturbed. The planet had once been like a lush garden, full of wonderous and lovely flora and fauna. The first humans here had lived practically in paradise, for the first fifty years.

But humans had brought with them bacteria and viruses that had altered the genes of the native inhabitants. One by one, populations were either altered or wiped out until the planet's entire character was changed. For the first 100 years, the people called the planet Paix Toujours, "Our Peace Forever." But after the destruction wrought by the germs they had carried to the planet, they started calling it Darkhell.

The name reflected the change in their hearts as well. The settlers had come here expecting lives of joy in paradise. They had expected that the move from Earth would leave behind all their problems. But within a single lifetime, they recognized that they had ruined it for themselves and were hopeless to fix it. Darkhell was now their trap, the prison of their souls.

 

[ZiSunka]

Ryan looked to the end of the alley. Just over the tops of the neighboring warehouses, he could see the huge purple mountains that separated Deathwish from the tiny village of Hope. Ryan's heart never gave up longing to visit Hope, to see if the inhabitants knew the Savior, or if is was just a name selected randomly.

There didn't seem to be anyway to get to Hope from Deathwish. Twenty-mile high mountains surrounded Hope, and there were no known passes that would permit humans to enter the region. In fact, all maps of Darkhell showed that region to be a blank spot, a great unknown area. Some maps showed a dot representing the village of Hope, but many, if not most, did not.

With his exhausting schedule here at the mission, Ryan never had time to train for climbing those mountains. And Darkhellians didn't have any airtransporters (AT). They didn't actually believe that humans could achieve flight on Darkhell, so he had little hope of ever finding out about the condition of Hope on this planet.

 

[Hishandmaiden]

While Ryan was feeling exhausted, a blink of memories suddenly came into his mind. It was memories from his childhood. It was the memories of a non-christian called Dyan, who was very nice to him when other kids bullied him. It was the reason, or at least one of the reasons, that made Ryan so badly wanted to go to Darkhell, back in those days when he wasn't even mature enough. Dyan was a middle age man, who did not believe in Christ. But he was extremely nice to Ryan. No matter how hard Ryan tried to share Christ with him, the adult will just smiled and listened, but will then, tell Ryan firmly that he will believe in no religion.
Not long later, the man contacted terminal illness. Ryan was the only one to visit him. As Ryan did not want Dyan to end up in hell, he began to share Christ once again, with Dyan.
Dyan smile sadly,"This won't do, child. I will not believe in God."
"Uncle, why?"
"Child, do you know who I am?"
The little Ryan shook his head.
"I am Edwin Protocol, the secretary advisor of Ivin, the emperor of Darkhell. Had you heard of Darkhell?"
The boy nodded his little head.
"I was in charge of wiping out all infidels, people who came from all over the planet to Darkhell to preach. But child, in my duty, I actually fell in love with one of them, and she became my wife. She led me to Christ. But what happened? Ivin found out and my wife was killed and I was imprisoned and my children were taken away from me. I was not killed because Ivin was related to me by blood. He was my brother. What had Christ brought me? Nothing, but disaster. I escaped from the prison, and stole a space craft from a missionary that was not captured. And came to Earth. Child, if you were me, would you still believe in Jesus?"
"Uncle, I will." replied Ryan. "Because if I don't, I will never get to meet my wife who I lost, again. Uncle, how will your wife feel if she saw you lose salvation because of her?"
Dyan burst into tears.
"Child, you are right. I never thought of that."
That day, Dyan became a Christian, again. But he suddenly had a convulsion later, when Ryan came to visit him, again. Before Ryan could call for the doctor, Dyan grabbed the little boy's hand.
"Child....child...my wife and I had two children.... they were taken away from us.... by my brother, the emperor.
Child, one day, if you had the chance, would...you go save my children and my fellow citizens, from the fires of hell?"
"Uncle...."
"Will you, child?"
"I..."
"Ryan....I love you."
Dyan let go of Ryan's hand. His eyes closed. He died.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ryan sighed. What a memory.

 

[ZiSunka]

(Great flashback rpgal!!! It explains all about Ryan's love for Darkhell!!!)


The work at the clinic was not done until after 8 PM, and by the time Ryan's own janitorial work was done, it was well past midnight. Ryan finished his devotions around 1 AM and went straight to sleep.

In the darkness, someone was shaking him. "Ryan, get up," a voice was whispering. Ryan opened his eyes and looked at whoever was shaking him. It was Luce (pronounced Loochay), and he was still shaking him. "Ryan, please get up," he whispered again.

Ryan rose on one elbow and squinted at Luce in the darkness. "What?" he answered.

"Ryan, we've got to pack and leave. The police are coming for us, and we've got to get out of here," Luce responded. "One of the patients came by ten minutes ago to say he overheard two cops say they were going to be in the patient queue at the clinic tomorrow morning. They're going to arrest us for practicing Christianity."

Fear raced through Ryan like a forest fire. His body ached with tiredness, but he got up and threw his few little things in his waist pack and clipped it on. Then he went right to the kitchen and threw all the food, dishes and supplies down in a deep chimney that fell into the sub-sub-basement below. Ryan had been assigned this task when he first came to the mission. It was his job to get rid of all signs of human habitation in the warehouse. The plan was to throw the police off by making it look like ordinary homeless people had been occupying the warehouse, not a medical mission.

The other's were packing up the clinic into backpacks and waist packs. They had purposely brought equipment and supplies that could be packed within minutes, knowing that someday they would have to do this.

When everything was done, Ryan dressed in a tattered and stained overcoat and went out into the alley. He needed to look like a Darkhellian homeless man, and there were many, so he could survey the escape route for police. The coast was clear, so to speak, and he signalled the team that it was safe to leave.

Ryan looked back at the old warehouse. It was the nicest place they had set up so far in their five months at Darkhell, and this was the eighth time they had had to move. Ryan worried that the police were on to them, and that they would be caught soon.

Andra and Luce had scouted out a place to escape to, almost as soon as they had moved into the warehouse. Their new home was closer to the river, a stinking channel of black water that flowed through the sacriest part of town. Even the police were afraid to come here. In a way, this made Ryan feel safer, but in another way, it scared him more. Now they had not only the fear of being caught, they had the fear of being robbed and murdered.

"Well, this is REALLY Darkhell, isn't it?" Panda said when she saw their new accommodations. They all laughed nervously and got to work cleaning, setting up the clinic and concealing their existence from outside view.

By 8 the next morning, they clinic was ready to open. Andra, Ryan, Faith and Luce went out into the streets to discreetly find people who needed medical treatment and took them back to the clinic. It was always this way on the first day in a new building. Since people didn't know where to find the clinic, the clinic had to find the sick people. By tomorrow, though, there would be a long line of people waiting at the alley door to be seen by the doctor.

Andra and Luce formed one team, and Faith and Ryan formed another.

Faith and Ryan headed down to the riverbank, where there was a derelict park full of homeless people. They had to be careful, because some of these people might be police informants. They had dressed like homeless people themselves, so as to avoid attention. They moved around the different clusters of people, asking for food (no one ever had any to share), but really looking for people that were wounded or sick to take back to the clinic.

Within minutes, Faith signalled to Ryan that she had found someone, and he moved toward her from the other side of the park. Suddenly a shot rang out from that direction! People scattered in all directions in fear and confusion, while Ryan ran toward Faith...

 

[ZiSunka]

Faith was down on the ground, and there was blood all over her. Ryan kept running toward her, but he was confused about what he should do. His heart wanted to get to Faith and help her back to the mission, but he had been trained that in a situation like this, he should run away and hide, so as not to lead the authorities to the rest of the group.

His heart took over, and Ryan went to Faith. He stooped down to her and saw that the blood covering her was coming not from her own wound, but from the man laying next to her. Faith was laying on the ground next to this man, putting pressure on the gunshot, trying to stem the bleeding. She looked up at Ryan, fear and urgency in her eyes. "The shot hit an artery in his arm. We've got to get him back to the clinic or he will die."

Ryan picked up the man. He was slight and bony. He probably hadn't had a meal in weeks. Faith kept her grip on his bleeding arm as they hurried back to the clinic. Ryan looked around a bit to scan for oncoming police, but his real focus was on getting out of this open area and into the clinic as soon as possible. He was afraid that they might be dripping a trail of blood, a trail that would lead the cops back to their hideout.

When they finally reached the clinic, Panda Ulmus was waiting with the door open. They rushed the man to the makeshift exam table and cut off his coat sleeve. As Andra, Luce and Faith worked on his right arm, Ryan used the scanner to read the ID chip in his left hand.

All Darkhellians have a tiny computer chip, smaller than a pinhead, imbedded into the skin between the thumb and forefinger of the left hand. The chip is installed at birth, and no baby can leave the birthing centers without a chip. You can't see the chip, but you can feel it with your fingers. Ryan located the chip and touched the scanner to the skin above it. The visi-screen on the scanner popped alive with the man's name, birthdate, occupation, address, licenses, bank account numbers, and next of kin. There was more information, but Ryan's real interest was in any hint of medical information. Sometimes, rarely, if the person had a serious but not fatal illness, it was identified on the chip. Epilepsy, for instance.

On Darkhell, there is no medicine. People who have minor illnesses, like a cold or a stomach ache, treat themselves with home remedies and herbal treatments. Any person who gets a more serious illness that their own body can't heal, or that doesn't respond to the available home treatments, is euthanized. Darkhellians consider this to be the most humane and sane thing to do, to prevent suffering. An infection that could be treated easily with antibiotics on Earth leads to certain euthanization on Darkhell.

This is why it is so dangerous for the clinic to call attention to itself. The practice of medicine was outlawed many years ago because it was considered cruel. Medicine could prolong the life of an ailing person, but a prolonged life might mean prolonged suffering. Medicine became associated in Darkhellian minds with cruelty and pain. And so all the doctors were killed and all the medicine destroyed. The only medications produced on Darkhell were those required to carry out the "mercy killings."

Ryan looked quickly through the information on the visi-screen. There were no medical notations. This man had probably been healthy his whole life.

His birthdate indicated that the man was 28 years old. Ryan looked at his face again, and was shocked. He looked like he was at least fifty! Life on Darkhell hadn't been kind to him.

The chip didn't offer an address or next of kin for the man. The only other notation on his chip was his name, Crus Hert. Crus Hert! In Low Darkhellian, that meant "crushed head." Ryan couldn't imagine having a name like that. But it was typical of the names on Darkhell. A man this age would have had his named changed more than once over his lifetime. His parents likely named him something kinder, like Castle or Collin, but Darkhellians never stick with such hopeful names. Over time, when they experience their hopless lives and life happens to them, they lose such names and take new ones, like Crus or Canc (cancer, in Darkhellian). Their chips are reprogrammed, and their birth names are lost forever.

Winston Ulmus, Ryan recalled, had been born on Darkhell. His birth name had been Winkna, meaning winter, but by the time he was eight years old, his name had been changed to Winc, meaning wince. When he emigrated to Earth, his chip identified him as Winc Painser, meaning Wince Pain-maker. When he became a Christian, he wanted to lose the distrubing Darkhellian name. At his baptism, he officially became Winston Ulmus, Winston after Winston Churchill, and Ulmus, the Latin name for an elm tree. Both were strong names, and Winston wanted to be identified with strength now, not pain.

Faith was sitting with Crus Hert when he came out of the anesthsia. Faith bent over him and reassured him that he was safe and fine. His wound hadn't been that bad and had been easily repaired. Crus would be fine in a couple of weeks. He could stay at the clinic until he was well. Tears welled up in Crus's eyes, and he gripped Faith's hand. Some awful dam of emotions had been breached, and Crus cried and thanked the staff for the rest of the day. Each time he did, the staff reminded him that it was Jesus Christ, who had sent them, that he needed to thank.

Crus Hert became their very first convert. Having saved his life, Jesus now saved his soul.

The team took what little clean water they had and gave Crus a good bath. This was his baptism. Crus wanted to change his name, and listened with great attention to Winston's story, then Panda's.

Panda had been born on Earth and came to Darkhell as a young woman. She had been looking for adventure and determined to scale the trecherous Darkhellian mountains. But when she arrived, she discovered the Darkhellian gravity took the engery straight out of her, and she wasn't able to climb the mountains, and over a very short period of time, the gravity and the cold temperatures fermented into laziness in her, and she couldn't even leave the planet. She was trapped, until and Earth businessman found her working at an ad agency and took her home with him when he left.

When she returned to Earth, she became a Christian. Her Earth name had been Pandora, a name from mythology, and she wanted a Christian name. She developed a love for the hopeless Darkhellians, and wanted to go back someday as a missionary, so she chose a new Darkhellian name, but not a hopeless or ghastly one like her first Darkhellian name (Grusa Myar, meaning bone-grinder). She chose Panda Nica, which means I Know Salvation. Few called her Panda Nica, though, they shorted it to just Panda, meaning I Know.

 

[ZiSunka]

The next Lord's Day, before sunrise, each of the team left the clinic, one or two at a time, and walked through the silent streets of Deathwish. Because there were no churches here, and folks stayed up so late partying on Saturdays, the streets were always deserted on Sunday mornings. The first few people began to stir around noon and the streets and stores didn't get much traffic before 1 or so.

Luce and Faith walked together, just ahead of Ryan and Andra. Behind them, at a safe distance, were Crus and Panda, and behind them was Winston. They were headed to the wilderness, a high hill far from the city where it was safe to sing and worship God without being overheard and arrested. It took nearly two hours to walk there every Sunday, so the group left as early as the sun's rising glow would allow.

They packed up all their belongings every time, in case the police would come while they were away, they would not lose the equipment and medicines so vital to their work. The walk, though long, was not tiring or unpleasant, no matter what the weather. Each of them looked forward to the excursion, because they would be able to worship their God out loud without fear. It was exhilerating and they always came back from their day of worship refreshed and able to take up their mission again on Monday.

Ryan fingered his Bible as they walked. Before he had left Earth, Ryan had a Bible chip implanted in his left hand, the same size and shape as the Darkhellian ID chip. Ryan's chip could be read by the same scanner, turned to a secret second channel, but it could also be read without one, by pressing on it, it could be activated so that the words were projected through Ryan's own nerves up to his eyes directly into his optic nerve and into his brain. He could "see" the Bible and read it, without interupting his normal field of vision.

And, if he was ever stopped by the police, having this chip might save his life. They would be able to feel it in his hand right where a Darkhellian chip was supposed to be, but their scanners would not be able to read it as a Bible, since their scanners did not have the secret second channel. It would just seem like their scanners were malfunctioning. His chip would read like gobbltygook on their scanners.

Fortunately, a lot of Darkhellian ID chips also malfunctioned and read like electronic garbage, so the police wouldn't think anything was amiss. Most of the time, they just dismissed the person with the bad chip and let them go. That was what Ryan was counting on.

They were going to Crus's Christening, his renaming. He had selected a new name, a name less violent and ghastly than Crus Hert, or "Crushed Head" as it meant in Darkhellian. He would keep his Darkhellian name on his chip, but the team would know him as the new name. A new name for a new creature! Ryan flipped his Bible to "Anyone who is a believer in Christ is a new creature. Your old life has been taken away. A whole new life has begun!" In his heart he rejoiced for this new creature, this new man that had been birthed out of Darkhell and into the Kingdom of God.

When the last of them reached the hilltop, they all sat for a moment of silence as they prepared themselves to commune with God through this worship time.

Then they rose and began to sing some of their old favorite hymns and worship choruses. Finally, they danced with joy, unabashed in this wilderness area in the presence of God.

When they had caught their breath, Winston rose and took Crus by the hand. "We are ready to dedicate a new name for our new brother. He will announce his new name, then we will all lay hands on him and dedicate him and his life to the Lord."

Crus stood proud and smiling in front of them and spoke his new name aloud to them for the first time.

"Christo Osher Manan," he said. "It means, Christ Gave Me Life. You can call me Osher."

 

[Hishandmaiden]

THe group cheered and were rejoiced by the new name of Crus. They were all rejoiced that one more soul is saved. Crus, no, Osher had never been so happy in his life. Born on a planet where hope seems vagues, he often felt hopeless and helpless. When he was born, his parents called him Futore Politan , which means Future Politician, hoping with high expectation that one day, he would be someone in power, showing him little love, and expecting him to be cold, brillant and among the best. His parents died in an explosion, a rather common way to die. For, most Darkhellions knew about explosion. They were taught since young to make a bomb, and many exploit the knowledge to harm others. But the police closed an eye on that.
Most of the criminals were after all, youths, and it is very inhumane to take any action against them. Darkhellions are also against the ban of bombs. They considered it a disrespect of freedom. Freedom means doing what they want. They did not consider the supression of religion a freedom, though.
Osher did not miss his parents when they died. They had no love for him, only expectations. Expectations that he cannot fulfill. Osher was sent to an orphanage but he escaped from it and joined a street gang. He changed his name to Lar brakar, which means, Law breakers. Together with his gang, they robbed and stealed. And one time, a bullet hit Osheh's head but he survived. He, finding it a miracle to survive such an incident, called himself, Crus Hert, which means crushed head, symbolically refering to his once wounded head. Then, he was betrayed and shot injured by his fellow gang mate. Luckily, Faith found him.
Osher was determined to turn over a new leaf. But what about his past, should he blurt it out for the others to know. They would condemned him as a criminal. He prayed to God for the answer.

 

[ZiSunka]

Ryan opened the doors of the clinic as usual the next morning. Already there were twenty people waiting in the ante room. He gave each of them a number and asked them to wait until their numbers were called.

Then he sat by the window and fingered his Bible chip. He was doing his devotions in the morning today, in hopes of getting to sleep earlier tonight. Since he had to work as the doorman here at the clinic, and also the janitor at night, he was starting to suffer from sleep deprivation. He'd no sooner finish his work and get to bed, and it would be time to get up to work again. He had given up going down to the Mara Sangren every morning; he needed the few extra minutes sleep.

He had hoped that Osher would be taking over as either janitor or doorman, but his wound had reopened and become infected. The medical team didn't have the medicine needed to heal him, so they were all waiting for the courier to come, so Osher could be taken to Earth for better treatment. The courier was expected any minute, and the whole team was on edge, hoping that Osher could hold on until then. Osher was also hoping to attend Bible school while he was recuperating on Earth, so he'd be ready to help the team when he got back.

The courier was already two hours late. It was not unusual for him to be as much as an hour late, but he had never been this late before. Since he had to come by PTV, and PTVs to Darkhell were never on schedule, they didn't worry about the courier too much. Something must be going on though, either at the departure station or the receiving station here at Deathwish. Ryan was tempted to go down to the station to see what was holding the courier up, but he knew he might expose the team by being seen in a public place like the station. Besides, he still had to guard the door at the clinic.

Four hours ticked by, and still the courier hadn't arrived. The whole team was getting quite anxious, not only for the courier, but for Osher. His condition was getting worse by the hour, and nothing they had with them helped. They were constantly praying for God to get the courier through and for Osher to get to Earth, and for their position not to be exposed.

If Osher died, they would not only have the grief of losing their new brother-in-Christ, but disposal of his body would present a bad problem. They couldn't be seen carrying him down to the funeral center, because they couldn't explain who they were. There would be forms to fill out and relationships to explain. Panda and Winston, who had Darkhellian ID chips could go down to the center, but if their ID's couldn't be linked to Osher's as close relatives, there would be an investigation and the Ulmuses might be accused of being the ones who shot Osher. They would likely end up in prison, at least for a while.

Without the Ulmuses ID chips, the team would not be able to buy food and supplies, and the team would have to abandon the mission and return to Earth. At best. At worst, the team would be exposed as Christians and executed.

More than 100 missions teams had come to Darkhell in the last 300 years, and everyone of them had ended with the executions of the entire team. The young man, Peter, that Ryan had met at the retreat center three years before had been executed last year. His mission team was the longest lasting one ever on Darkhell. But in the end they were betrayed by one of their patients, a man whose little girl was very sick. Peter's team did everything they could, but by the time the man had brought her into the clinic, she was comatose and she died four days later, after much suffering. Peter administered the pain medicine himself, but there was a limit on how much a tiny, sick body could take. If he gave her enough to completely relieve her pain, it might kill her. Her father observed this and when she was gone, he went right to the police and reported that the team had been practicing medicine, and had refused to euthanize his daughter.

The police had come before any of the team could get away, and they were all hauled into the Deathwish Amusement Center in the middle of town, where they were tried and executed. The entire trial took a only few hours. People lined up in the center to testify against them, most of them were people whom the team had never seen before. One after another, Darkhellians stood up and told about "their" encounter with "the evil medicine" practiced by the group. They told of loved ones who were tortured to death in the clinic, or about horrible deformities caused by the torturing doctors and nurses at the clinic. One went so far as to testitfy that he had seen the team kill someone, then bring him back from the dead so they could torture and kill him again.

All the testimonies were lies. The team watched each witness carefully, looking for someone that might have actually been treated at the clinic, but none of their real patients testified against them.

In the end, the judges asked each of the team members if they had been involved in the practice of medicine, and each of them had to answer truthfully; they had all been involved in the practice.

When they were asked if they were Christians, they, honestly, answered "yes." And so their executions were sealed. Practicing medicine was a captial crime, and so was being a follower of Christ.

The judges sentenced the team to be killed by crucifixion, mocking the way that their God died. So each was nailed to one of the nearby oak trees and left to die. The deaths were painful and long. Some of the team members didn't die for days. Peter was the last one to die. He had been on the cross for one whole week before they finally stabbed him through the heart. They threw all the bodies into a pile at the shore of Mara Sangren and left them as a warning to any who would practice medicine or serve Christ.

Ryan broke out of this revery when the courier came through the door. He sighed with giant relief. Not this time! They weren't in trouble this time! The courier had come with a portable ETS, and he was able to instantly transport himself and Osher directly to an airborn PTV so he wouldn't be seen taking a sick man anywhere but an euthanization center.

Osher was gone, but they had every reason to believe that he would be returning healthy and ready to help. The team celebrated with a special Earth meal, one of the few that they had brought with them.

Three months later, Osher returned healthy and happy, and ready to lead others to the Christ he loved so much.

 

[ZiSunka]

The team returned to the hilltop the following Lord's Day to dedicate their new brother to the service of the Lord.

The next day, Osher and Ryan left early in the morning to begin their new task. Osher knew of some people he thought would be receptive to Christ. The men were going out to sound out these people, in a subtle way.

They stopped at a corner park near the edge of Deathwish's vast downtown. vehicles raced past them on their way to the downtown offices where millions of people worked.

Every day is a work day for Darkhellians. The idea of a weekend or a day of rest was foriegn to them, since their self-esteem came from amassing consumer goods, they had to work almost constantly to earn enough money to pay for it all. Yet most of them were in massive amounts of debt. There was a whole "debt industry" which had only one product: income from the interest on debt. No matter how high the industry raised interest rates, Darkhellians were eager to borrow. Even debt itself had become a status symbol. A family guaged their happiness and prosperity on the number of bills that came to their mailbox each day. A family with lots of bills felt very important. With every offer of credit that came to them, they felt more important and accepted. Some families owed more than they would ever earn in their lifetimes, and usually the debts had to be assumed by surviving offspring and relatives.

Because of the eventual crush that such debt puts on families, most Darkhellians marry and divorce at least five times. A really successful man or woman might go through ten marriages before they died. These people were honored highly, because they put their priority on work and wealth, and not on something as meaningless to Darkhellians as family.

And although many Darkhellians just lived together, most of them married, because they wanted steady sex and some level of emotional connection. Ever hoping, Darkhellians, at their divorce ceremonies, would make this toast to the newly severed couple: "May you find perfect happiness and fulfillment in your next spouse. May you find your soulmate, the one who cosmically completes you."

Ryan thought about all this while they stood in the cold waiting for Osher's friends to finish begging from the passers-by.

 

[ZiSunka]

Osher nudged Ryan's elbow and nodded toward a dirty man in a ragged coat. "That's Tibbins. He's the one I was telling you about. I think his grandmother was one of the ones who came to Christ before the last massacre. He always talks about her and how much she loved him and how much he misses her."

Ryan looked at Tibbins. He looked much older than he could be, if his grandmother was still alive before the last massacre. The age he looked, his grandma would have to be well over 100 years old, too old for cuddling this adult on her knees!

Ryan asked, "How old is Tibbins?"

Osher replied, "Twenty-three. He was 6 when the police made him watch his grandmother's beheading. They carved a cross into her forehead and then lopped it off."

Ryan inwardly cringed. He knew that this, or something just as horrible, would be his end eventually. It happened to all Christians on Darkhell. So far, none had escaped or lived on Darkhell for more than three years before being executed.

"What does "Tibbins" mean," Ryan asked.

"Precious baby." Osher replied. "His mother died in childbirth, and his grandmother named him. The name on his ID chip is Gaver, meaning 'grave-digger,' but he still calls himself 'Tibbins.' Grave-digger is merely his occupation."

Ryan was perplexed. If Tibbins had an occupation, why did he live in the streets?

As if anticipating the question, Osher said, "Tibbins doesn't want to maintain an address. He is still afraid that the police will come after him, as well. As long as they can't find him, they can't kill him."

Tibbins came over to Osher and Ryan and said, "Hey, Crus!! Where you been, man?"

Osher looked into Tibbins eyes and said, "I've been to a place where it's safe to be like your grandmother."

Tibbins was startled by Osher's words. He searched Osher's face, looking for any sign that this was a trap.

Osher went on, "I changed my name, too. I'm Christo Osher Manan now."

Tears gathered in Tibbins's eyes. "Are you police now, Crus?" he whispered.

"No," Osher replied, "I'm a Christian."

Tibbins ran away, afraid of what he had just heard.

Osher and Ryan waited in the cold, dismal park for over two hours until Tibbins came back. "Are you serious?" he asked Osher.

"Yes," was all Osher said.

Tibbins fell into Osher and hugged him with all his might. "Brother!" he cried. And all of them cried, behind some bushes where no one could notice.

Tibbins made a fish-sign in the dirt and they knelt down to give thanks for finding each other.

Then they went back to the mission. Tibbins still lived in the street, but he came for supper at the mission every night.

Ryan showed him his Bible chip and Tibbins wanted one immediately. The only verses he knew were the ones his grandmother had taught him before she died, and those were very few. Ryan sent a message to the courier to bring another chip. Winston and Panda decided to order a whole box of them, since it looked like they might use them.

The next day, Osher and Tibbins went out together to seek other lost sheep among the Darkhellian wolves. Ryan went back to his duties as janitor and doorguard.

Winston and Panda started going out every day as well. They knew how to talk to Darkhellians about the forbidden things in subtle ways.

Soon, there were fourteen people for supper at the mission every night. They would have to find a less conspicuous place to meet, lest the police think that the large gathering was suspicious.

Winston, Osher and Tibbins went out at night looking for a suitable building...

 

[Hishandmaiden]

could not join you as school access is down. Unable to type now as my mum only allows me to use about 1/2 an hour of net access.

 

[ZiSunka]

Winston and Panda were finally able to start their part of the mission work. They opened a Bible school for the new converts. After a suitable proving period (meant to weed out the imposters from the new believers), each was fitted with a Bible chip and taught how to use it.

The Bible chips couldn't be implanted in the left hand on Darkhellians, as Ryan had had his implanted, because of potential detection by the police. Anyone with two chips would be suspected of some fraudulant activity and arrested. If tortured, the new converts might crack and expose themselves as Christians, which would endanger everyone. So their chips were implanted in the side of the left middle finger, where it wouldn't interfered with the Darkhellian ID chip, and where it could be fingered and fiddled with without drawing any attention.

So, it became a sign among Darkhellian Christians: the tip of the left thumb projecting between the index finger and the middle finger. On the "people movers," at the grocery store, at the amusement center, wherever people gathered, Christians could see who had a Bible chip by watching the thumb manipulate the Bible chip.

And, wonderfully, this location made it possible to read their Bibles while keeping one hand free. Mothers could read their Bibles while holding their babies, workers could read their Bibles while taking notes in a meeting. It was the perfect location for the implants!

Osher and Tibbins were so good at evangelizing that by the end of the first year, there were over 100 new Christians in Deathwish! They could go out into the streets unnoticed (no one will look at the homeless people in Deathwish for three reasons. One is that the sight of homeless people reminded folks that there were hungry people dispite the swollen economy. Second, the sight of homeless people made folks fear the raging crime sprees that rushed through Deathwish on a regular interval. Third, homeless people reminded folks that they were probably just one paycheck from being in the street themselves).

And many homeless people were ready and open to any source of hope that they might find. The people at the bottom know that they cannot help themselves, that they need to look up for help. And Osher and Tibbins were able to tell them about God, the owner of all the wealth in the world, the source of all provisions, and the generous giver to all who will ask. The homeless folks of Deathwish drank up all knowledge of this God that Osher and Tibbins would offer. They all wanted to be adopted into this wonderfully rich family with such a gracious, generous Father. Practically every person to whom Osher and Tibbins gave the Gospel wanted to be saved through Jesus Christ.

Winston and Panda called on the mission agency to send a second mission team.

The team would come to Deathwish secretly, without even the first team knowing the time, location or the identities of the mission staff. All anyone would know is that the second team would be trained in the techniques that succeeded for the first team, and that they would be in a different part of the city. The city was so huge (well over 25 million people resided in Deathwish. Another 50 million lived in the twenty-eight suburbs), that it was no problem to keep the teams separated.

The reason for the secrecy and separation was for the security of both teams. Since they didn't know each other, or the whereabouts of each other's missions, they couldn't expose each other to the authorities, even if they were tortured. The members of that team wouldn't have a clue the first team existed.

Ryan's team simply went about their business, assuming that another team had been prepared and had arrived, without knowing for sure that anything was different. There was no sign, no evidence that any Christians existed on Darkhell expect them. If the other team was trained properly, there never would any sign of them.

Since there were now so many new converts, Ryan no longer had to do janitorial duties or be the door guard at the clinic. There were others who were just dying to serve God in these ways.

Ryan finally got to do the work he had trained to do. He had four years of Bible college, and three years of training to lead Bible classes, and the time had finally come for him to teach classes. He was to teach Bible and spiritual life classes, while Winston and Panda taught Christian life, worship and devotions classes. Ryan was to teach them who God is, what He wants, and how to pray and relate to God. He had never been so happy.

Ryan sneaked away early the morning before his new duties were to begin, and he walked down to Mara Sangren, many miles away, to a hill that overlooked the city and the sea, and he spent the day in worship and thanksgiving to God. the sea was blood red that day, and the yellow sun glistened off the water and the sky in a way that made it appear like a beautiful landscape, and solid, like Ryan could walk across the water and reach Heaven. Filled thus by the Spirit, Ryan sat on the hillside and pondered what Heaven would be like, and he recommitted himself to the service of God, longing to be the most loved of all of the Children of God.

At sunset, Ryan walked back to the mission building and slept the most peaceful and restful sleep of his entire life.

At daybreak, the wonderful filling of being filled by God had left, but Ryan was eager and excited to start his new job anyway.

 

[ZiSunka]

There were twelve students in Ryan's Bible class. They met in an old wellhouse in Misery Field, a battered and poor neighborhood of houses that were poorly built 100 years before and abandoned by the middle class families who first occupied them. The large houses were divided up into apartments as rented out at huge rents, out of porportion with the incomes of the current occupants.

The wellhouse was the fresh water source for Misery Field and for the neighboring community Posh Dreams. Posh Dreams was still being developed, and large and beautiful homes were being built behind the tall concrete divider that blocked all views and all access to Misery Field. But the homes were being built with even less care and quality than Misery Field had been, so Posh Dreams would soon become a depressed and abandoned neighborhood, too.

The wellhouse had three levels. The basement level held the noisy machinery that groaned and churned and pumped water from the aquifer deep underground. It was dank and wet and often entered by maintenance of various sorts.

The ground floor was a warehouse for parts that were needed to maintain the pumps below, and the ports for the various chemicals that had to be added to the water to make it drinkable.

The upper floor had once been the office and staff rooms for the pumphouse. But the noise and the heat from the pumps below had been too tiresome for the spoiled and pampered workers to tolerate, so the offices were abandoned and the door was boarded up.

Ryan had found that he could rig the door in such a way that he could open it, but it would still look boarded up. The room upstairs was slightly uncomfortable, but he found that when he lined the walls and floor with scraps of cheap foam insulation that was discarded at the building sites in Posh Dreams, the room was much quieter and much cooler, too.

The windows in this room were high overhead, so high that Ryan had to crawl up on a box to reach them. But they could open and close, and Ryan noticed that the windows weren't visible from the houses below. This took care of fresh air ventilation. In the winter, the windows could be closed, and the heat from below would make the room a comfortable temperature. If the school was still here then. If Ryan was still alive then. If they hadn't been caught yet.

New Believers were coming to the mission everyday. The group was over 100 strong now. So large that they couldn't hide as a group anymore. Small groups have been broken off and sent to new neighborhoods to make new believers. Everyday was riskier than the one before, because as the group grew, it became more likely that they would attract the attention and wrath of the authorities. If one group was found out, they might crack under torture and tell about all the other groups.

Although Ryan loved teaching the common people, he knew that unless they were able to reach the hearts of the leaders and rulers, it would never be safe to be a Christian on Darkhell. But this might not happen in Ryan's lifetime, or his children's lifetime (if he ever got to have any), and like Abraham, he might have to wait hundreds of years to see this dream come true.

Ryan's students were arriving at the wellhouse, and he could see right away that they would have to find another place to meet. This room was big enough for only 12 students, and 15 had shown up today. When class was over, Ryan started the search for another meeting place.

Since over a year had gone by since they had to flee the warehouse that night, Ryan thought the warehouse might be a safe place again. Most likely, the police had stopped looking there for them. He went back to the door that led off the alley, and peeled the weathered police tape away. Inside, the dust had thickened into a carpet, showing that no one had been in there for a long time.

Ryan went into the rooms that had been the clinic. One of them was large enough for the class, and for many more students as well. The tables and chairs were still there, leftovers from when this area was the office for the warehouse. He felt the class could easily be safe here for the two hours a week that they would need it.

That night, long after dark, Ryan went to each of his students and told them where to meet the following week.

On the walk home, Ryan was spotted by two patrolling police officers. The yelled for him to stop and be searched, but since Darkhellians in this part of town wouldn't do that, Ryan ran like heck. The police would think it very strange if their suspect submitted to a search without a struggle.

They chased him into a blind alley and caught him by the shirt. They pushed him down on the ground and shoved his face into the gravel. They scanned the chip in his left hand, the Bible chip. Just like it was designed, the chip sent the scanner gobbletygook, a jumble of numbers and letters in meaningless patterns.

"Your chip is defective," one officer growled at him. "Get it replaced." They let Ryan up and left. They had been looking for someone, and Ryan didn't match the description.

Ryan got down on his knees and thanked God for the escape.

When he got back to the mission, he told the others what happened and they held a thanksgiving service right then. There was food and prayer and joy and dancing for the Lord. Each of them tried to out do the other in expressing their gratitude for God's protection from this near-disaster.

 

[ZiSunka]

At the end of a class session one morning, one of Ryan's students asked him to explain a troublesome passage of the text they were studying. Ryan hurried home to the mission afterward, not wanting to be late for lunch.

As Ryan was about to turn the corner into the alley where the mission was currently housed, eight police officers ran by on their PT (personal transporters). Ryan jumped back and peered around the corner of the building, being careful to hide himself.

There was a crowd of police around the mission's front door, bashing it with a power bar, trying to knock it down so they could enter. Ryan wanted to watch what was happening, but he remembered his training, and he turned and walked away. Ryan went down to the park and mixed in with the homeless people.

He went into the scraggly bushes and knelt down and started praying for his fellow missionaries, and the brothers- and sisters-in-Christ who might have been in the mission house for lunch.

Lunch was the worst possible time for the police to come, since many of the beleivers and all of the students in Panda's class ate lunch there everyday. It was likely there were at least thirty people in the meeting room, waiting for lunch to be served. The cooks might have gotten away through the back door, if they left as soon as they heard the commotion, and if the police had not blocked that exit, but few of the others would have been able to get through the large number of police surrounding the building.

Ryan tried to calm the fear that was making his heart race, but he couldn't stop the panicky questions that kept popping into his mind. What if he was seen by the police? What if they had followed him to the park? What was happening to Winston and Panda and Andra and the rest? Were they being killed in the street, or would they save the executions for the amusement center? Did anyone get away?

 

[ZiSunka]

Ryan hung around at the public viscreen at the community square down at Misery Field. Every neighborhood had a huge viscreen in its public square where people could watch vis shows. They were especially well-used in towns where the majority of people were homeless or unable to afford a viscreen of their own. The one at Misery Field was crowded everyday, since few of the residents had one. Ryan, in his tattered overcoat and uncombed hair, blended in with the crowd quite well. No one would even notice him, let alone pick him out as one of the mission team members.

Ryan was watching for news of the fate of his team. He had to find out what happened to them, and since the public viscreen showed all the vis-stations at once, he could watch the news from around Deathwish and around all of Darkhell. He didn't have to wait long before Winston's face appeared on the DNN (Darkhell News Network). He was being dragged by a chain through a crowd in downtown Deathwish. Darkhellians were throwing stones, sticks, bricks, drinkpaks, fists, anything they could find, at Winston as he walked by. Winston's face was so battered that it appeared to be one huge wound. The viscreen zoomed in to a closeup view of Winston's face. The crowd was so loud that Ryan couldn't hear what Winston was saying. But he could read Winston's lips. Ryan had to bite his tongue to keep from repeating along with him as he said, "Father, forgive them! They don't know what they are doing."

The viscreen changed to another news clip, some other sound bite, and Ryan moved back, trying to catch the story on another vis-station. Most of the other stations were airing entertainment shows. Ryan would have to wait for DNN to rebroadcast it in about 15 minutes.

It was all Ryan could do to watch the viscreen for that long. The other programs were not easy to watch. Sex shows were the most popular, so most of the vis-stations broadcast them around the clock. Shows with heavy, graphic violence were popular, too, and there were many vis-stations devoted to airing the most shocking violence possible. They competed with each other for awards honoring the darkest, most debasing shows.

Ryan kept his eyes moving around the screens, looking for news bulletins about the team, and avoiding lingering too long on the shows that would poison his spirit. Because Ryan was a healthy young man, it was hardest not to watch the sex shows. Celibacy was difficult enough without them.

On the quarter-hour, DNN repeated the piece on Winston and showed a new clip about Panda and Luce. The news reader said that they were also found in the mission house, but claimed that because they were found together in the act of adultery, they were not charged as Christians. Christians were well-known to be non-sexual and prudish, therefore Panda and Luce had been released. The news reader said that a handful of others were found at the mission, and were being held pending investigation.

Panda and Luce had been released! Ryan felt relief, then shame, that the news reader had said that they were taken in sin. Conflicting emotions welled up in him and flowed out in his tears. Had Panda and Luce really defiled themselves that way?

There could have been another reason that they had been accused of sin--Panda and Luce might have gotten away from the arresting officers, or even escaped the jail, so this official lie had been concocted to cover their absence.

Ryan determined to believe the best about Panda and Luce, until and unless he found out different.

Ryan stayed in front of the viscreen all day and well into the night. Each quarter-hour brought a bit more news about the captured Christians.

 

[ZiSunka]

Ryan slept in the park in front of the giant visscreen, because he really didn't know where else to go. He was glad he had invested in WarmWear before he had left Earth. WarmWear was an under-suit that was made out of silky-soft ceramic fibers that not only captured his body heat, but intensified it and reflected it back into his body. Despite the fact that the temperature was nearly freezing on this summer night on Darkhell, Ryan's WarmWear kept him from hypothermia.

He had been trained, that if anything like this happened, they should wait 24 hours and then go the the PTV (physical transport station) to meet any team members who escaped. There was an inter-planetary vis-box there that had free access to interplanetary communications systems. They were to try to regroup and go back about the business of the mission, or, if there were not enough survivors, they were to input a special access number into the vis-box to let the missions' board know that disaster had struck and the remainders of the team needed to be rescued. Ryan was on the first mission that had this possibility to be rescued.

But it was dangerous, because the team members who were captured might tell of the plan under torture. So Ryan had to be inconspicuous at the PTV station, and not seem like he was hanging around the vis-box.

Ryan had to get rid of his tattered overcoat, and get some upscale clothing, because homeless people were tossed out of the PTV station as soon as they were seen. He had to look like an interplanetary traveller waiting for his flight so as to not draw attention.

Ryan went down the thrift store on Loser Street, between Misery Field and Broken Heart, and picked through all the clothes until he found a suit that fit him. Teamed with a nice shirt and tie, and old but clean oxford shoes, Ryan looked like a young business man, in sales maybe, but someone who would have a legitimate reason to be at the PTV.

When he got the whole outfit on, he went out into the sales area to look at himself in the mirror, and when he was satisfied, he turned and ran out the door.

Ryan had no money to pay even the few dollars the outfit cost, so he had to steal. He knew it was wrong, and he hoped that God would understand and forgive him. Ryan was very frightened of being thrown in prison and tortured like Winston, and he first realized how scared he was as he ran down Loser Street. Again the pangs of sin caught him, but he wanted to live, and he didn't know how else to keep from dying!

When he got a safe distance away, Ryan stopped running. It was hours until he could go to the station, and he was very hungry. He had to save his strength for the long walk to the center of Darkhell, where the station stood.

Ryan walked by many restaurants along the way, and he was very hungry, but he didn't want to steal again. He was starting to feel very guilty and convicted, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He couldn't go back to the store. If they called the police, he wouldn't be able to get to the station to be rescued. But the smells coming from the restaurants were making him weak with hunger.

Ryan did the only think he knew to do; he rummaged around in the trash bins until he found something edible. It was a sandwich, half-burned, that was still warm from the oven. They must have just put it in the bin, just before he arrived. Ryan relished that meal like none other before it. He would have given thanks for the food, but he figured with the sin of stealing and all, he didn't really have the right to talk to God right now.

Finally, Ryan reached the PTV station and walked through the glorious and beautiful crystal doors. Everything downtown Deathwish was magificent, built to impress the visitors and get businessmen from other planents to invest heavily in the Darkhellian economy. The businessmen and dignitaries were never taken further than the city center, so they never saw the true nature of Darkhell, only the posh places and the luxury.

Ryan sat in a rich, comfortable chair near the vis-box, but he was so tired he nearly fell asleep. He couldn't let that happen, because either he would miss the team (since they couldn't be seen waking him up, it would be too conspicuous), or he would draw to much attention (sleeping in the PTV is strictly forbidden in Deathwish).

Someone had left a vis-paper on the seat next to him, so he read it, occassionally looking over the top of the disposable gadget to observe the vis-box area.

 

[ZiSunka]

The vis-paper gave continuous news from around the planet. It was a small, handheld vis-screen that constantly updated through the same vis-system as the viscreens and the viz-boxes, but they had limited functions. You could buy one for a few dollars, but it only got one vis-station, DNN news.

And you couldn't take notes or make vis-calls like you could on the more expensive vis-cards, which had many functions. Vis-papers were meant to be thrown away at the end of the day, so they didn't connect into the elether, the power supply of Darkhell which was a constant field of electrical energy that flowed throughout Deathwish. Machines, gadgets, appliances had receptors on them that captured energy from the elether to power their systems. Everything in Deathwish ran off the elether, vehicles too. But vis-papers ran off old-fashioned batteries.

Ryan wasn't thinking about the elether at all while he waited in the PTV station. He was half-looking at the vis-paper, struggling to stay awake.

Suddenly, he heard Winston's voice coming from the vis-paper. Winston was shouting, yelling to the world about finding hope in Christ. The news reader laughed at Winston and said that he was obviously a mentally impaired man. Ryan squirmed in his seat. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Winston's behavior, his yelling about Christ, embarassed Ryan, although Ryan didn't understand why. He shrunk back from words that would have made him proud the day before. He would have applauded Winston, if this had been yesterday when things seemed so much safer.

The news reader was saying that Winston was to go to trial at the amusment center on Thursday, with his execution to immediately follow.

Thursday! Winston only had five days of life left.

Ryan wished that he could find courage, courage to go to Winston to comfort him. Courage to stand up at the amusement center and preach the Good News while Winston was dying.

But Ryan really hoped that he would be gone by Thursday. He hoped that the mission would bring him home to Earth where he would be able to live a long and safe life. He was very much afraid to die for his faith, a faith Ryan wasn't even certain that he had anymore. Who was Christ? Why didn't He keep His followers from dying here on Darkhell?

Ryan didn't even want to pray. God was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. All he wanted was to wait here for the next ten minutes, until he could dial the special vis-box number and be rescued.

 

[ZiSunka]

Ryan opened his eyes, and a cop was standing right in front of him, frowning. Fear bolted through Ryan for what seemed like the hundreth time since yesterday.

The cop reached down and whacked Ryan's shoulder and gruffed, "No sleeping here." Ryan couldn't help being sleepy, and he was genuinely struggling now. He had to convince the cop that he was not a drunk or a vagrant. Ryan knew he didn't smell too good, because he hadn't had a shower in two days. His clothes were clean, though, and he hoped their cleanness would cover his body's odor.

Ryan sat up straight and said to the officer (in low Darkhellian), "Yes, sir, sorry. I've worked 65 hours in the last three days, and I had my presentation this morning. I was just relaxing while waiting for my flight, and I guess I fell asleep. I'm very sorry."

There! Now Ryan was lying, too. He had stolen, eaten out of the trash, didn't go to his friend in prison, and now he was lying! Ryan felt the distance between his heart and God grow into a great gap.

He knew he should repent right away, but he didn't want to talk to God, his anger and disappointment at God's lack of protection was too great.