Against a Blackened Sky, the story of one man's falling-out with organized religion, is told by a future observer whose knowledge of history is incomplete. Without sanctioned access to historical accounts, the storyteller has pieced together an explanation of man's predicament that seems plausible to him. His problem is that he cannot accomplish in his own life the virtues that he admires in the subject of his story. In his partial understanding, he looks back longingly to a time he feels to be simpler than the complex world he lives in.

The storyteller is a member of the crew who man a lunar-based laser. The subject of his narrative, Colonel Smith, was a member of the pioneering crew who laid the foundation for the establishment of that base.

In Colonel Smith's day, a world now past, satellite technology became obsolete. The need for a moon-based laser became desperate in the pursuit of peace and security.

Through a series of mishaps, Colonel Smith is marooned alone on the moon and must endure a year of solitude. It is during that time that he is able to rethink and ultimately to redirect his life. When at last he is rescued, he returns to an Earth that will be profoundly affected by the work he helped to begin on the moon.

In a world of tightening alternatives, man has not lost his battle with technology but rather has surrendered to it. It is the storyteller's lament that man has given up without a struggle.

Should the story of the teller and of his subject seem ill-fated and harshness and gloom seem to hang over the tragedy of their lives, it is only because the message of hope has been missed. The door has been opened, and we have stepped through, but the door has not closed behind us. We might yet step back through, close that door from the other side, and find another opened to us.

Amazing grace.