Firmament: In His Image

by J. Grace Pennington

  FIRMAMENT:

  In His Image

  J. Grace Pennington

  Text and cover Copyright 2013 J. Grace Pennington

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Kindle Edition, June 2013

  Cover design by Michael McDevitt

  Interior formatting by Aubrey Hansen

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are merely coincidental.

  For Daddy,

  Because he loves God and loves science-fiction

  And taught me to love both

  Special Thanks

  The trouble with writing a series is that there is necessarily a lot of crossover with the people who must be thanked, as I work with the same people book after book. Thus, if this seems repetitive, keep in mind that each one of these people deserves to be thanked not once, not twice, but about a hundred times.

  My siblings, always my number one fans, are my biggest inspiration and the number one reason I write this series. I want to thank them for encouraging me, listening to me rant about my ideas, and always loving my stories. Especially my sister Hope, who was the first to read this book and remains my beloved Watson, and my brother Jacob, who spent many hours brainstorming with me and helping me with the cover. Also my parents, who invested in and supported my writing as it has developed over the years.

  Next, I want to thank my test readers: Jonathan Garner, Aubrey Hansen, Lawrence Mark Coddington, Jeremiah Stiles, Elizabeth Altenbach, Jenni Noordhoek, and Carolyn Noordhoek. I wouldn’t have had the confidence to publish this book without having it pass your approval and benefit from your critiques.

  Major encouragers for this book include but are not limited to Ophelia-Marie Flowers, Jess Verve, and Matthew Schleusener. Even if you didn’t officially test-read, your contribution to my writing is bigger than you know. Thank you. And to the many others who waited for this book and poked me about it—your motivation and your belief in me helped immensely.

  I also want to thank Earl Merritt Jr., M.D. for checking the medical details, Prof. William Berg for providing the amazing translations for the book, Michael McDevitt for another beautiful cover and for bringing Elasson to life, Michelle McDevitt for her amazing editing and her patience in working with me, Joel Parisi and Jordan Smith for helping me with the back cover copy, and Aubrey Hansen for again formatting the interior and the ebook.

  Most of all, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for giving me life and a love for writing, and for sustaining and guiding me through the process. Without Him, I could do nothing.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI

  Chapter XXII

  Chapter XXIII

  Chapter XXIV

  Chapter XXV

  I

  Three weeks. That’s how long I’d been away from the Surveyor. It was the first time in eleven years that I’d been on earth longer than a week.

  Somewhat moodily, I looked out the porthole at the rapidly passing stars. It had been a long three weeks. And not only because of the homesickness I felt for the ship, but also because I missed my brother, who’d been left aboard, and because of our task on earth.

  I felt a hand lightly touch my shoulder. “You’re getting to be as grumpy as I am.”

  Turning, I looked into the face of my adoptive father, Doctor Gerard Lloyd. “Grumpier.”

  He sat down next to me. A muffled jumble of voices came from the other side of the transport, and the engines whirred against the silence of space. “You miss the Surveyor?”

  I smiled slightly as I looked back out the window. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Dad, I guess I’m just having a little trouble shaking it off.”

  “Our trip, or what led up to it?”

  “Both. Everything.”

  He looked out at the stars with me. “We did what we had to do.”

  “At the trial, you mean?”

  “Yes. Are you feeling bad about that?”

  “No. Not really. I just didn’t enjoy it.”

  He rubbed my shoulder, then dropped his hand and stood up. “Dinner time,” he said. “You’ll feel better when you have a full stomach.”

  I smiled as I stood up and took his arm. As a doctor, he seemed to think there was a physical cure for everything. He didn’t quite understand that good food and medical care weren’t the answers to all problems. But he was probably right about dinner.

  “How long until we get back?”

  “Trent says probably another day or so.”

  “Do you know what our current warp factor is, Da…”

  “Andi, don’t ask me questions like that. I don’t know a warp factor from a communications console.”

  “That’s funny, because they’re nothing alike…”

  He glared at me, but he couldn’t hide the smile behind his eyes.

  The events he had referred to as “leading up to” our trip were painful to recall, and he didn’t like them any more than I did. Before the trip, we’d been through a mutiny led by my biological father, resulting in his own death. The trauma he put me through was not something I could easily forget. And our trip to Earth to testify against the co-mutineers hadn’t done much to lift the weight from my heart.

  When we walked into the tiny transport mess hall, I saw that everyone else was already seated. The Doctor’s nephew, Eagle Crash, was rather hotly discussing something with Captain Trent. I slipped into an empty seat beside Crash, as the Captain said decisively, “I think this whole crew could use a diversion. And I might add, Mr. Crash, that the decision is not yours, and it is quite honestly not your affair. You’re not even a member of the Surveyor’s crew, what difference does it make to you?”

  “I may not be a member of the crew, but it does make a difference to me. I don’t want to see you waste your valuable time…” (I thought I detected a hint of irony in Crash’s voice with the word valuable) “…and Mr. DeMille’s money on a wild goose chase.”

  “That is what we are paid to do, Mr. Crash! Your personal beliefs have nothing whatsoever to do with me and my duties, and I would appreciate it if you would stop flinging them in my face.”

  “If you don’t want my opinions, why did you ask?”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinions, I asked for your observations. That was the whole reason we sent you…”

  The Doctor cleared his throat loudly. “Are we ready to eat?”

  The Captain and Crash stopped, and the Captain cleared his throat. “Yes, sorry Gerry. Dinner time, all.”

  “May I say a blessing?”

  A strained silence permeated the room, and Mr. Ralston—another Surveyor crew member—glanced at the Captain. I lowered my eyes.

  “Certainly,” the Captain said at last, and Crash and I bowed our heads along with the Doctor.

  “Lord
,” the Doctor began quietly, “please bless this food to nourish our bodies, and thank you for providing it. We thank you for your hand on our mission to Earth, and ask that you would help us to get back to the Surveyor safely. Amen.”

  I peeked up to see if the Captain and Mr. Ralston were bowing their heads as well. Mr. Ralston was, and the Captain inclined his slightly, but he did not join in the echoed “amen” with the rest of us. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I half wished that the Doctor wouldn’t insist on doing this every meal. It wasn’t a problem back on the Surveyor—there we’d just say a prayer by ourselves, the two of us, and no one seemed to notice. But here, there were only five people. It was just a bit embarrassing. Not that I was ashamed of praying, or of asking God’s blessing. I just didn’t like making the Captain uncomfortable, which is what I knew we were doing.

  A moment of silence followed the prayer, as we began eating the fish we’d been served. I tried to think of something I could say that would relieve the tension. Then I remembered the question I’d tried to ask the Doctor earlier.

  “Captain, what warp factor are we employing now?”

  He turned to me with a thankful smile. “Nineteen.”

  “Why not twenty?”

  “We were in a slightly dangerous area, I think. I’m doing my best to leave things to the discretion of the pilot.”

  I nodded, knowing that he wasn’t used to not being in charge.

  Another silence, and then I ventured, “I’ll probably regret asking this, but what were you two arguing about earlier?”

  “As if you don’t know,” Crash broke in.

  Ignoring him, the Captain replied, “The same old thing, Andi. I announced my intention to continue on our way to Alpha fifty-four-thirty-three to investigate the probe reactions, but your cousin thinks it is—unwise.”

  “An understatement,” Crash emphasized. He spoke in a good-natured tone, but definite annoyance ran underneath it. “I say it’s a foolish waste of time.”

  The Doctor spoke up, expressing the annoyance without the good-nature. “Crash, you need to stop questioning your elders.” Then under his breath, “No matter how wrong they are.”

  The Captain smiled. Somehow, he didn’t mind the Doctor’s arguments as much as Crash’s. I never knew if it was because they were friends, or because the Doctor wasn’t cocky like Crash, but it was a fact. “I know you don’t believe in aliens, Gerry. But that’s beside the point. I am hired to search for them, and search I will. Now, I’ve had responses to life-probes sent to Alpha fifty-four-thirty-three, and it’s my duty to go there.”

  “You can go where you like, Trent, but you won’t find anything.”

  Crash pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “I’ll let you two finish this. I’m turning in. Come on, And.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not through eating, Crash.”

  He shrugged as he left. “Come on when you’re finished. I need your help.”

  When he’d left the room, the Captain turned to the Doctor. “You’re going to have to do something about him.”

  “You have a suggestion?” The Doctor buttered his roll on the side and bit into it.

  “He’s going to hurt himself—or somebody else—one of these days.”

  I let my eyes plead with the Doctor, hoping he would defend Crash. He said nothing, but Mr. Ralston spoke up. “Where did he get such pronounced opinions?”

  The Doctor choked a little on his bread. “From me, I’m afraid.”

  “What about his father? I understood that he didn’t live with you until he was grown.”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t know his father very well.”

  I felt uncomfortable again. The Doctor didn’t like talking about his past. It included his sister, who he’d loved with all his heart and who’d run off with a man he didn’t approve of.

  But Mr. Ralston had no way of knowing that. I felt sorry for him, and the Doctor. Come to think of it, I felt sorry Crash and the Captain—and myself, too.

  “May I be excused?” I asked.

  “You haven’t finished your fish,” said the Doctor, eyeing my plate disapprovingly.

  “I’m full.”

  He peered at me for a moment, his gray eyes boring through me. I squirmed.

  “Go on. I’ll see you later.”

  I hurried out and made my way to Crash’s tiny cabin in the back of the transport. He was there, sitting on the edge of his bed, intently focused on unscrewing the back of his communicator. When I walked in, he looked up at me for a moment and smiled roguishly. “So, you’ve had enough of him too?”

  I sat cross-legged on the floor. “I wish you wouldn’t talk to him like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked with an absurdly innocent face, reaching for a small pair of pliers.

  As if he didn’t know. Well, if he wasn’t going to cooperate, then I didn’t want to talk about it. “You said you needed my help?”

  “Hmm? Oh that. Nopety, I just wanted you to myself.”

  I tried to be mad at him, and found myself smiling instead. “I suppose when we get back to the Surveyor you’re going to leave again?” I looked down, pulling a few strands of my light hair through my fingers. I wasn’t looking forward to having to say goodbye to him again. The last time he left us, he’d been away for nearly a year.

  He didn’t look up from his work. “You know I can’t stay in one place too long, And.” He twirled the pliers between his fingers. “I have to be off. Searching, exploring. I need adventure.”

  “There’s plenty of adventure on the Surveyor,” I insisted. “You just never stay aboard long enough to find out.”

  Not convinced, he shook his head and smiled, almost patronizingly. “You don’t understand, Andi. I’ve been on these chartered exploration vessels before. It’s not the same. On the Alacrity I, I can decide where to go, and I choose what I pursue. On the Surveyor I can’t do that. It’s just not enough for me.”

  I could see that my arguments were futile—his mind was made up, and nothing anybody said was going to change it. I continued my pleading anyway. “But you don’t have to leave right away. You could just go with us to Alpha fifty-four-thirty-three.”

  Stopping his work, he looked at me with a hint of hesitation on his face. I grasped at the chance, and took on the persuasive tone I’d used with him when I was little. It had always worked then. “I’ve hardly gotten to see you since you came back. First there were the problems with the Doctor, then you were gone, and then we had to go to the trial, and we didn’t get to spend any time together.”

  It was working, I could tell. He sighed as he looked at me.

  “You know, you’re not as cute at twenty-one as you were when you were five.”

  I grinned.

  “But… you’re pretty darn close. I’m onto your tricks.”

  “Just stay a little longer. Please?”

  He looked at me, rubbing his chin, which he hadn’t taken the time to shave in a few days. Then he raised his eyebrows and shook a finger at me. “One week. Neither begging nor cuteness nor moisture of the eyes will make me stay any longer. I’m giving you fair warning.”

  “Two weeks,” I agreed, and shook his outstretched hand as if making a deal.

  He went back to his work. “Why do you want to hang out with an old fellow like me, anyway?” he asked.

  He was eleven years older than me, but I never really thought about the age difference. He’d lived with us from the time he was eighteen until he was twenty-three, and was part of the family. “You’re not old, Crash. You’re like my big brother, you know that.”

  Picking at the screws in his device, he said, “Yes, but you have a real big brother now, remember?”

  I quickly assured, “What difference does that make? I can have more than one big brother, lots of people do.”

  He grinned. Adventurous man though he was, Crash wore his heart on his sleeve. “Does that mean Lieutenant Howitz has to be my brother now, too?”

  “I don’t know, b
ut if he is, you should get used to calling him August, instead of ‘Lieutenant’ or ‘Mr. Howitz.’”

  “Sorry, force of habit.” With one last twist of the pliers, he set his communicator down. “So he’s staying on the Surveyor.”

  “Yes. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  Crash leaned back against the wall. “I feel bad for the fellow.”

  “Could you try to be a big brother to him, Crash?”

  “I won’t know what to say to him. I never was good with sentiment.”

  “You don’t have to be good with sentiment to be kind to someone and show him that you care about him.”

  He looked at me and his expression changed rather abruptly, becoming more lined and sober. “Sometimes, And, I feel like you’re older than me.”

  This astonished me. He certainly never acted like it. He always seemed to think he was wiser and more capable than anyone else of his acquaintance. I shook my head at him. “I’ve never thought that.”

  Without responding, he flopped down on his bed. “Sing me a song.”

  “What kind of song?” I asked, scooting closer to the bunk.

  “A nice quiet one. I’m tired.”

  In a soft voice I sang a song I knew his mother used to sing.

  “Darkness is coming; shadows are creeping,

  reaching for you—at least that’s what it seems.

  But don’t be afraid; don’t begin weeping—

  All is not what it seems.

  Because I am here, and I will protect you.

  All is not lost, there is no need to fear.

  I will be here. I will be here.”

  When I finished the last verse, he closed his eyes. “Thanks.”

  I took this to mean I should leave, so I did, closing the door quietly behind me.

  I hadn’t expected to find the Doctor waiting for me when I stepped out, and he smiled at my surprised expression. “That was Sara’s song.”

  I blushed, and the only answer I could think of was, “Yes.”