Newton’s Fire

FIFTY
I

Avram watched in horror as the plane plunged towards the sea. It was too far away to identify, but what else could it be but Croke’s jet? What else could it be but the Ark? He cried out in anguish and rage.

They’d shot them down. They must have known what the consequences would be but they’d shot them down anyway.

He looked at the trigger in his left hand. He steeled himself to release the safety and press it. But then, like a miracle, the plane began to pull out of its dive. It was at an angle to the camera so that he could watch it fighting gravity until finally it levelled off. He cried out again, but in exaltation this time. What more proof could anyone want that the Lord, praise His Name, was truly on their side? Tears prickled his eyes as-

The plane’s rear windows began to glow, as though reflecting the dawn. But it couldn’t be. The sun wasn’t up yet. And anyway, the light seemed to be coming from inside the plane. The camera zoomed in closer. The light grew brighter and brighter and then the whole plane lit up like a star going supernova. The flare lasted barely a second before it died away, leaving the morning darker than before. Flame flickered from both the aircraft’s engines and twin trails of thick black smoke scoured the grey sky. The plane began to lose altitude once more. It wasn’t quite in free-fall, but with both engines on fire even Avram could see that there was only one possible outcome now: its crash into the sea and total obliteration. His heart seemed to break apart inside his chest. The Ark was lost. Without it, no Jewish uprising. Without it, no Third Temple. Without it, his Lord was nothing but a sham.

His wail echoed through the Dome. He glared down at the remote control. He released the safety then made to stab the trigger with his thumb.