Apollyon: The Destroyer Is Unleashed

by Tim LaHaye

  Of course, it being a “balanced” broadcast, Buck was not surprised to see a furious Peter Mathews spitting a reply. “Oh, the problem is mine now, is it? Has His Excellency finally ceded authority to where it belongs? Of course, not until it was proven his military had no power over these impostors. When the two lie dead, the rains will fall again in Israel, clear, pure, refreshing water will cascade once more, and the world will know where the true seat of power resides.”

  A week before, Buck had gotten Chaim to visit the preachers at the Wall, and the old man admitted coming away shaken by the experience and more disillusioned with Carpathia. “But still, Cameron, as long as Nicolae upholds his end of the bargain and honors the pact with Israel, I will trust him. I have no choice. I want to and I need to.”

  Buck had pressed him. “If he should betray Israel, what would you think of all you have heard and learned from Tsion and what you know from what my father-in-law heard behind the scenes? Might you defect and join us?”

  Rosenzweig would not commit. “I am an old man,” he said, “set in my ways. I regret I am a hard sell. You and your fellow believers are most impressive, and I hope against hope you are not proven right in the end, for I will be most miserable. But I have cast my lot with the world I can touch and feel and see. I am not ready to throw over intellectualism for blind faith.”

  “That is what you think Tsion has done?”

  “Please don’t tell him I said that. Tsion Ben-Judah is a brilliant scholar who does not fit the image I have of believers. But then neither do any of you in his immediate circle. That should tell me something, I suppose.”

  “God is trying to get your attention, Dr. Rosenzweig. I hope it doesn’t take something drastic.”

  Rosenzweig had waved him off. “Thank you for caring.”

  Now Buck sat shaking his head at the TV report, knowing it was eleven at night in Illinois and that his family and friends would not have seen this yet. He wished he could leave them a message on e-mail that would tell them to be sure to watch. But he couldn’t transmit from this location without leaving Stefan and himself exposed to the GC.

  He thought about calling or texting a message, but Chloe had begun sleeping so lightly that she always answered, even text beeps in the middle of the night. She needed her sleep.

  With his housemate off at work, Buck stepped out into the morning sunshine. He felt such a longing to be back at the safe house that he nearly wept. He squinted at the brilliance of a cloudless sky and enjoyed the pleasant warmth of a windless day. And suddenly it seemed someone pulled a shade down on the heavens.

  With the sun still riding high in the clear sky, the morning turned to twilight and the temperature plummeted. Buck knew exactly what it was, of course: the prophecy of Revelation 8:12. The fourth angel had sounded, “and a third of the sun was struck.” The same would befall a third of the moon and the stars. Whereas the sun shone for around twelve hours every day in most parts of the world, it would now shine no more than eight, and at only two-thirds its usual brilliance.

  Even knowing it was coming did not prepare Buck for the awe he felt at God’s power. A lump formed in his throat, and his chest grew tight. He hurried into the empty house and fell to his knees. “God,” he prayed, “you have proven yourself over and over to me, and yet I find my faith strengthened all the more every time you act anew. Everything you promise, you deliver. Everything you predict comes to pass. I pray this phenomenon, publicized all over the world by Tsion and the 144,000 witnesses, will reach millions more for you. How can anyone doubt your power and your greatness? You are fearsome but also loving and gracious and kind. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for Chloe and our baby, and for her dad and Tsion and Doc. Thank you for the privilege of having known Ken. Protect our people wherever they are, and give me the chance to meet Mac and David. Show us what to do. Guide us in how to serve you best. I give myself to you again, willing to go anywhere and do anything you ask. I praise you for Jacov and Hannelore and Stefan and these new brothers and sisters who have taken me in. I want Chaim for you, Lord. Thank you for being such a good and great God.”

  Buck was overcome, realizing that the darkening would affect everything in the world. Not just brightness and temperatures, but transportation, agriculture, communications, travel—everything that had anything to do with him and his loved ones reuniting.

  He wanted to warn the Tribulation Force, but he waited until seven o’clock in the morning Chicago time. They liked to rise with the sun, but it wasn’t going to rise for them. Buck wondered what darkened stars looked like. It wouldn’t be long.

  He dialed Chloe and woke her up.

  Rayford had awakened early and looked at his watch. It was quarter to seven and still dark. He lay staring at the ceiling, wondering if they were in for some bad weather or just a cloudy day. At seven he heard Chloe’s phone ring. It would be Buck, and Rayford wanted to talk to him. He would give her a few minutes, then go down and give her the high sign.

  Rayford lay back and breathed deeply. He wondered what Palwaukee would produce that day. Did he dare raise with young Ernie the subject of hidden treasure? That would depend on how their conversations went. He assumed it would take a while to develop trust. Ernie was very young.

  Chloe sounded agitated. And she was calling for him. He sat up. It was way too early for anything with her baby. Was something wrong with Buck? “Dad! Come down here!” He dragged on a robe.

  She met him at the bottom of the stairs, the cell phone to her ear. “Look a little dark for seven?” she said. “Buck says the sun was struck at seven in the morning over there. While we were sleeping. Talk to Daddy, hon. I’m going to start getting people up around here.”

  To Buck, Rayford sounded stunned. “Incredible,” he said, over and over. “We’re going to have to determine what this means to all our solar-powered stuff.”

  “I thought Doc was already working on that.”

  “He was. We just didn’t like his conclusions. For some reason, the sum is not equal to its parts in a deal like this. You can’t just figure you’re going to have a third less power. He put his big calculator to it and said it’s a third less power on top of being a third less time every twenty-four hours. He sketched out a model of what it will mean just to us, and we didn’t like it. Couldn’t argue with it and couldn’t store much power in advance, but we sure hope he’s wrong.”

  “He won’t be,” Buck said. “Smart guys never are. Hang on a second, Rayford. I’ve got another call. Oh, it’s Rosenzweig. I’d better call Chloe back.”

  “I’ll tell her. Watch your phone power now.”

  “Right.” He hit the switch. “Dr. Rosenzweig!”

  “Cameron, I need to see you. I need some counsel.”

  “You want to meet now?”

  “Can you manage it?”

  “I suppose you know what’s really happening,” Buck said.

  “Of course I do! I was at the last meeting when Tsion spoke of this prophecy.”

  “You admit it’s too obvious to be anything else.”

  “What thinking man would not know that?”

  Thank you, God! Buck thought.

  “The problem, and what I need to talk to you about, is what do I say? The media is all over this and wants a comment for tomorrow’s broadcasts. I told a half dozen that I am a botanist, and the best I can tell them is what it will mean to photosynthesis.”

  “What will it mean, by the way?”

  “Well, it will bollix it all up, if you want my technical response. But the newspeople are reminding me that I have always spoken out on scientific subjects, even outside my area of expertise. You will recall Nicolae had me speculating on the causes of the disappearances. I almost convinced myself with that spontaneous atomic reaction blather.”

  “You almost convinced me too, Doctor, and I was an international news correspondent.”

  “Well, I just heard from Fortunato, and he wants me to corroborate the Global Community view of this phenomenon.”r />
  “How can I help?”

  “We need to strategize. I am considering bursting their bubble. I might imply that I will endorse their view—wait till you see it—and when I get on the air, I will say what I want. I owe at least that to Leon.”

  “You’re worried what Carpathia will think.”

  “Of course.”

  “It will be a test of your relationship.”

  “Exactly. I’ll find out how free a citizen I am. I have given Leon nothing short of grief for making it appear I had worked with him on detaining the three of you. I could have exposed the whole strong-arm regime, but Nicolae apologized personally and asked that I not embarrass him.”

  “He did? You never told me that.”

  “It didn’t seem appropriate. You have no idea how close I came to telling him that I would trade a friend’s free passage out of the country for my agreeing to let that news report slide. I just couldn’t muster the courage to ask.”

  “Probably wise,” Buck said. “I can’t see him making that kind of trade. Finding out I’ve been here right under their noses would have infuriated him.”

  “I did have the audacity to ask if he had considered that his tactics against Ben-Judah and his people might be the reason for all the plagues and judgments. He chided me for buying into all that fiction. Now I must meet with you, Cameron.”

  “Can we meet somewhere private?”

  Rosenzweig suggested a dank, underground eatery appropriately called The Cellar. Buck asked for a table in the corner under a dim light where they could look at Chaim’s document without being disturbed. Rosenzweig produced a printout of the official Global Community assessment of what had struck that morning. It was all Buck could do to keep from howling.

  The document contained all kinds of legalese, insisting on its confidentiality, its for-your-eyes-only nature, its personal direction to Dr. Chaim Rosenzweig only, and all this under penalty of prosecution by the supreme commander of the Global Community under the authority of His Excellency, blah, blah, blah.

  It read: “Dr. Rosenzweig, His Excellency wishes me to convey his deep personal appreciation for your willingness to endorse the official policy statement of the Global Community Aeronautics and Space Administration regarding the natural astronomical phenomenon that occurred 0700 hours New Babylon time today.”

  “Of course, I agreed only to review it, but Leon proceeds with his typically presumptuous tone. Anyway, here’s the party line.”

  Buck read, “The GCASA is pleased to assure the public that the darkening of the skies that began this morning is the result of an explainable natural phenomenon and should not be cause for alarm. Top scientific researchers have concluded that this is a condition that should rectify itself in forty-eight to ninety-six hours.

  “It should not significantly affect temperatures, except in the short run, and the lack of brightness should not be misconstrued as lack of solar power and energy. While there may be some short-term impact on smaller solar-powered equipment such as cell phones, computers, and calculators, there should be no measurable impact on the power reserves held by Global Community Power and Light.

  “As for what happened in space to cause this condition, experts point to the explosion of a massive star (a supernova), which resulted in the formation of a magnetar (or supermagnetized star). Such a heavenly body can be up to fifteen miles across but weigh twice as much as the sun. It is formed when the massive star explodes and its core shrinks under gravity. The magnetar spins at a tremendous rate of speed, causing the elements in its core to rise and become intensely magnetic.

  “Flashes from such events can emit as much energy as the sun would produce in hundreds of years. Normally these bursts are contained in the upper atmosphere, which absorbs all the radiation. While we have not detected harmful levels of radiation, this flash clearly occurred at an altitude low enough to affect the brightness of the sun. Current readings show a decrease in light between 30 and 35 percent.

  “The GCASA will maintain constant watch on the situation and report significant changes. We expect the situation to normalize before the end of next week.”

  Rosenzweig shook his head and looked into Buck’s eyes. “A convincing piece of fantasy, no?”

  “I’d buy it if I didn’t know better,” Buck said.

  “Well, this is not my field, as you know. But even I can see through this. The creation of a magnetar would have no effect on the brightness of the sun, moon, or stars except maybe to make them brighter. It would affect radio waves, maybe knock out satellites. If it happened low enough in our atmosphere, as they imply, to affect earth, it would probably knock the earth off its axis. Whatever this was, it was not the creation of a magnetar from a supernova.”

  “What do you mean, ‘Whatever this was’? You know as well as I do what it was.”

  “As a matter of fact, I think I do.”

  Dr. Rosenzweig tried out on Buck what he planned to say live on the air when asked about the event. “I’ll even carry the document solemnly in my hand, rolled up and dog-eared, as if I have been agonizing over it for hours.”

  “I love it,” Buck said. He phoned the States, something that grew increasingly difficult as the hours of darkness continued and would become nearly impossible within days.

  Chloe answered. “Yes, dear,” she said. “Your phone call from Chaim lasted this long?”

  “No, sorry. Got tied up. I just wanted to tell you to watch for him on the news with his assessment of what happened.”

  “What is his assessment?”

  “I don’t want to spoil it for you. Just make sure nobody misses it. It’ll make your day.”

  “We’re having power problems here already, Buck, and this connection isn’t the best.”

  “Save enough to watch Chaim. You’ll be glad you did.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Eating a late dinner that evening, Tsion shared with the Stateside Tribulation Force his joy over a wildly successful effort by many believers on the Internet. “I merely put out a simple request—you all saw it—for translators in various countries to interpret the daily messages in their own languages. You can imagine how much of the web is made up of Asian language groups, Spanish, German, and others.

  “Well,” he added with a twinkle, “not only did I get far more volunteers than I needed, but some very advanced computer types are offering free software downloads that automatically translate into other languages. It’s Pentecost on the Net. I’m able to type in unknown tongues!”

  Rayford was always warmed by the joy Tsion took in his work and ministry. He had sacrificed as much as anyone in their little group—a wife and two children. Chloe had lost her mother and brother and now two friends. Rayford had lost two wives, his son, his pastor, and more new acquaintances than he wanted to think about. Everybody around the table, Doc Charles and Hattie included, had reason to go mad if they allowed themselves to dwell on it.

  Momentary smiles were all they could muster when Tsion shared a story like that or someone made the occasional wry comment. Raucous laughter or silliness just didn’t have a place in their lives anymore. Grief was wearying, Rayford thought. He looked forward to that day when God would wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there would be no more war.

  That was one reason he looked forward with relish to the ten o’clock news event that had been trumpeted on the GC Broadcasting Networks all day. The GC was bringing together experts who would speak to the official statement of the government related to the darkness that had already begun to take its toll. Buck had insinuated that Chaim would be entertaining. Although Rayford couldn’t imagine a belly laugh, he looked forward to the diversion.

  “I just hope,” Tsion said, “that we detect some movement in Chaim’s spirit. When I was laying out all the prophecies again for him, I challenged him. I said, ‘Chaim, how can a man with such a mind as yours ignore the mathematical impossibility of so many dozens of prophecies referring to just one man unless he is the Messiah?’ He starte
d with the typical argument about not knowing whether the Bible is authentic. I said, ‘My mentor! You would doubt your own Torah? Where do you think I am coming up with this stuff?’ I tell you, young people, it won’t be long for Chaim. I just don’t want him to wait too long.”

  Rayford, just three or so years younger than Tsion, loved being referred to as a young person.

  Hattie spoke up, her voice stronger than ever. “Do you still feel that way about me, Dr. Ben-Judah? Or have I convinced you I am a lost cause?”

  Tsion put his fork down and pushed his plate away. “Miss Durham,” he said quietly, “are you sure you want to hear my thoughts on your situation in front of the others?”

  “Go for it,” she said, just short of gleeful. “I have no secrets, and I know you people sure don’t.”

  Tsion entwined his fingers. “All right, since you brought it up and gave me permission. You and I rarely interact. I hear what you say and know where you stand, and you know that my whole life is now dedicated to proclaiming what I believe. So my views are not a mystery to you either. You are nearly twenty years my junior and we are of opposite sexes, and so there is a generational and gender barrier that has perhaps caused me to be less frank with you than I might have been with someone else.

  “But it might surprise you to know how frequently during each day God brings you to my mind.”

  Rayford thought Hattie looked more than surprised. She had a glass of water suspended between the table and her lips, and her bemused smile had frozen.

  “Again, I do not intend to embarrass you—”

  “Oh, you can’t embarrass me, Doc. Let me have it.” She smiled as if she had finally reeled in a big one.

  “If you would permit me to speak from my heart. . . .”