It is just after midnight, May 22, on Kiritimati Island. The earth is quiet and still, but above, there is a low rumbling in the clouds, a frenzied stir that can be heard just beyond the pearly gates. “Damnation! I just spilled wine on my robe. Now where did I put that other sandal? Hell’s fire, I am six hours late. Can’t this camel go any faster? And how do you program ‘heaven to earth’ on his piece of crap GPS?”