The commercials flashed past, most of them only 5 and 10
second spots. One, a commercial featuring two healthy, wholesome church members, showed them drinking brightly-colored PTL Cola with great relish and obvious sexual satisfaction; this commercial was played twice in succession, probably for effect. A moment later these commercials were forgotten, leaving only a sudden thirst in their passing.
Norman Shire’s swarthy and well-groomed features flashed back on the screen. As he gave a brief summery of what had happened so far, the view pulled back to include the Reverend and another man, thin and pale with big eyes and blond hair. Shire announced: “This is Gary DeLeon, technical adviser from the stel … sorry, I mean InterStel … corporation, who’s ship is sending us back live pictures from space. He’s joined us to give us an insider’s viewpoint as to what is taking place aboard the Mary Lee, in orbit above Jerusalem.”
“Well, the ship really isn’t in orbit,” Gary DeLeon said.
“It’s having a difficult time right now because its having to maintain a stationary position above Jerusalem at an altitude far too low for a geosynchronous orbit …” As the technician went on and on about details concerning the shuttle’s maneuvering problems, the view switched back to outer space. The lights and the moving figures were much closer now, the white hole filling most of the screen. The swarming figures were now definite shapes; tiny humanoids with spread white wings, soaring about in effortless, lazy circles. Some appeared to be chasing each other.
The Reverend broke in and remarked upon this excitedly, then began to mumble a happy prayer.
“Those are angels,” Shire’s voice breathed. “I can’t possibly think of what else they might be.”
“Oh, this is a glorious day!” the Reverend exclaimed in his quavering voice. “Praise the Lord! Praise-the-Lord!”
Shire and DeLeon echoed him dutifully.
#
After another break for commercials, the view returned to the scene from space, with angels darting around at a now comparatively intimate distance. Details could now be seen: most of the angels were unmistakably children; they were the ones darting around, chasing each other. Most appeared to be nude.
Other angels, however, were clothed in full, flowing gowns; they were bigger in size, more calm in their flight – probably adults. The caressed each other as they passed, flying with a grace that was hypnotizing to watch. So far Christ was not visible, or at least He was not distinguishable from His angels.
This continued for several minutes, with occasional comments from Shire or the Reverend. Then there was another commercial break, featuring an airline company offering low fares on round-trip flights to the “Holy Land.” When the break was over the scene had not changed, and Shire announced something about the Pope of the United Church having called to say he was watching and that the view from space was “spectacular.”
“It certainly is!” the Reverend Krishni agreed.
Moments later something new happened: all the angels spread away from the bright hole in a rush, a few coming quite close to the Mary Lee. Then the brightness of the hole intensified, and Shire and the Reverend babbled excitedly as a stream of billowing mist came spewing out of the hole and went drifting down toward Earth. The angles, swooping and spiraling, followed closely behind and to the sides. The mist moved dreamlike, with wispy tendrils reaching out before it, curling at the ends, falling behind as new tendrils shot out. Behind it the hole faded and dissipated like smoke.
“Jesus is descending!” Shire was shouting, overpowering the sound pickups. “Jesus is descending!” Beneath the wild sound of his voice the Reverend could be heard praying under his breath, praising the Lord, almost chanting in his ecstasy.
The picture jerked as the Mary Lee maneuvered to follow. The descending stream of mist now appeared to be nothing more than a blob against the colorful Earth, the angels now too far away to be seen. After about 10 minutes the scene switched to a ground view, looking up, showing blue sky. Burning in the sky, right in the center of the screen, was a blotch of bright light.
“… this is a shot from right up on the studio roof,”
Shire was saying, “happening right now, at this very moment. This is, I’m … I mean …” He trailed off, pausing a moment.
“You’ll have to excuse me, brothers and sisters, if I keep stumbling over what I’m trying to say. I am literally speechless.
This is, this … I can’t believe I’m here, alive on Earth today, to see this … This is undoubtedly the greatest moment in over two-thousand years of history. Our God, our Savior, has returned to us … is descending before our eyes … and I, and I can’t …”
The view continued showing a bright blotch in the sky; it grew a little in size but that was all. For 30 seconds the view switched back to the Mary Lee, still maneuvering in space. Then, shaking a little, the view from below returned to the screen. The scene stabilized, and something else could be seen. A small black dot to the side.
That’s our JTV air launch up there,” Shire was saying, having gotten himself under control. “Hopefully, with luck, we will soon be getting live pictures from it. I’ve been told, however, that at this point the view up there isn’t much better.”
“How far up is that vehicle?” asked DeLeon, the InterStel technician.
“I have no idea. I have been told, though, that we have a new high-tech air launch on its way – we’ll be getting pictures from that, as well.” As Shire spoke, the view switched to show him sitting in the studio. His hair had somehow gotten messy. “Until then, as long as the view remains as it is, we’re going to take a very brief time out for a commercial break.”
Seven full minutes of commercials blurred past, pacing so quickly and holding attention so intensely that after they were all over it was hard to remember having seen them at all. Then the program continued with shaky pictures from the JTV air launch. The bright blotch had resolved into a large cottony cloud, billowing downward, surrounded by dim pin-prick flashes of light.
The scene switched to a closer, more stable view; the dim flashes turned out to be sunlight glaring off the ultra-white angels’ wings as they soared and banked in the air. “Ah, this . .
. this is the view from the Mercedes 4000A air launch, graciously provided by Mercedes Aerospace for today’s fantastic event.” Shire cleared his throat.
“Those 4000A’s are really slick,” the InterStel technician said in a low voice, a side comment to Shire. “Powered by a high efficiency gravity engine, capable of going into low orbit–-”
“Uh, yes.”
“They’re really safe.”
“I’m sure they are …”
“We use ‘em a lot out in the colonies–-”
“Oh! Look!” shouted the Reverend.
23. COVERAGE 2
The camera angle had swung over to a horizontal view as the Mercedes 4000A matched altitude and velocity. The scene was frightening in its visual intensity – it was taken from quite close, with the frolicking angels swooping right up to the camera, filling the screen with glowing, silky wings. They put the cloud into perspective; it was huge, at least 15 kilometers across, with a bright glare at the top, riding on the leading edge as it descended. The camera zoomed in on this glare, filling the screen with white. Through it motion could be detected, but no image could be found.
“That may be Him,” Shire breathed reverently.
“Yes,” the Reverend agreed, his voice humble. “Praise the Lord. Praise him. Praise Jesus …”
A coloration slowly formed in the glare, a long, stretched-out rainbow-like effect, but not a rainbow. The view pulled back, revealing the coloration to be spread in patches, trailing behind and then dissipating.
The scene switched to the view from the JTV air launch, which was now level with the Mercedes. The Mercedes drifted in and out of view; sleek, modern, gracefully sliding through the air. The vogue Mercedes Aerospace logo was clearly visible on the side.
Beyond was the billowing cloud, and the darting, soaring angels.
The scene switched back to the view from the Mercedes, then, suddenly, to the view from the studio roof. The cloud, from below, was round. Its bulk now filled the sky. The bright glare that was presumably the Lord shown right through the cloud.
“… it’s getting close,” Shire was saying, “the cloud has blotted out the sun. We can see that though the windows here in the studio. The masses of people, the pilgrims filling the Holy City, are shouting out in excitement, in glory … there’s a tone, a note, coming, coming out …”
“The angels!” the Reverend exclaimed. “It’s the angels!
They’re singing!”
“… yes, they’re singing!” Shire confirmed. “They’re singing! Can we get that–-? Are we picking that up for the TV