Renaissance of Destruction

by mobius20

A conspriacy unfolds to extinguish the last of the Core presence

1. Default Chapter

Renaissance of Destruction

Brian Morgan Jr.

For, Brian Morgan Sr. He was more than my father, he was my friend. I can never repay him for what he has done for me. I owe him everything.

Part 1

Postbellumary Totalitarianism

I feel the snake crawl across the sand I can see the rain fall on the land. If we feel the snake, and see the rain, why can't we taste our pain? Is it because we cannot taste it? Or are we too afraid to taste it, because we know the flavor. It is one we do not wish to savor. -Whispers on the Breeze

From death you cannot hide. Only time you can bide. -Whispers on the Breeze.

A happy little home in a quaint little suburban town encompassed by a field of green grass. Sky a pristine blue, the sun bathing the ground in its warm light. Birds singing songs to their mates or warnings to their enemies, irrelevant which, both are as beautiful and pleasing to the ear as the beating of waves on a sandy shore in the gaze of a sunset. For Emily Ham, life is good, with her loving husband, Paul, ever faithfully at her side. Twice they brought forth life. The first was a girl, and they named her Helen. Three years later they were blessed with a boy, Chris. Even at thirty, Emily looks a decade younger. Her blonde hair was always kept back within a ponytail. The crystalline blue of her eyes was what made her mask of youth more prominent. Even though she looked only twenty, there are times when she feels like she's fifty. The injury to her leg during the Battle of Cocytus was traumatic to her. She would never be able to walk right again, nor could she engage in too much physical activity. The only evidence of the affliction is a thin scar on her right leg running from just above her kneecap, nine inches, almost in line with her femur, which was severely damaged too. Also, on the backside of the same leg, a smaller scar only two inches in length, running in conjunction with the larger, sister scar. Often, she played off the injury like it was nothing. She would play with the kids when they wanted, never revealing the agony she endured after only a few minutes. Days have gone by when the simple act of stretching her leg out became a journey into the world of misery. Nonetheless, she lives her life the way she wants to, and not to let it be governed by her leg. Despite her strong willpower to block out the pain, she always keeps a bottle of powerful painkillers in the medicine cabinet, just beyond the children's reach. Neither Paul nor Emily worked after they left the military. The compensation Emily received from her injury was more than enough to support them. Only a small portion of the wounded received compensation. In order to qualify, they have to prove they could not work to gain an income. For Emily, that was easy. Their neighborhood was on the outskirts of the port city of Wavel the smallest big city on Deneb. It was a small suburbanite community where everyone new everyone. Their home was perched partly inside a hillside, which helped it keep cool in the summer months. All of the houses on that block were structurally identical, with the exception of closets, windows, and doorways. The front door led into a short foyer. Then it exploded into the larger kitchen and dinning room. The right side of that combined room was open to the living room, which was quite large, about twenty feet to a side. The stairs leading upstairs spiraled up just off to the right of the opening aforementioned. The upper foyer was a small hallway with four doors along its length. From the first door on they were, the master bedroom, which was rather spacious and had its own bathroom, another bedroom, then another bathroom, and finally a third bedroom.

Louis felt like he was king of the world when he flew a jet. The world seemed to be at his fingertips. He felt like he was a god, or at least as close as a man could become. All his worries seemed to fall from him when he sat in that cockpit. But he knew this was serious work. Right now, he is a test pilot, but he is trained extensively in every part of the military, he could gather data, analyze data, perform reconnaissance mission deep in enemy territory, he could do it all. He was not the only one. Every member of ADIT was capable of performing every task that could be placed before them. Testing new aircraft was fun to Louis, although he knew the engine could burn out, or the electric system could short circuit and send him hurtling towards the earth. But he didn't care, he felt free when he was flying. The aircraft he was testing was an aerial transport. Although it lacked the speed of the interceptors he occasionally tested, it still gave him a feeling of freedom. The Hercules was an aircraft designed to move a large amount of units over stubborn terrain. With a capacity of twenty-four, it moved more than the ancient Hulk for almost one half the cost. It was a magnificent piece of machinery. If the Machines ever became activated, they could produce an unimaginable amount of units with lightning speed. So the Arm used every available resource to develop frighteningly deadly units to conquer the possible threat. The tactic was to use quality to defeat quantity. It proved effective at the Battle of Cocytus where the Arm was outnumbered three to one, but if the Machines ever activated, the odds wouldn't be nearly that good. They would be closer to fifty to one, and that was looking optimistic. But these thoughts never crossed Louis' mind when he was flying. It was as if he had transcended the problems of life. He finished his circle and returned home. At the hanger, which was built into a mountainside to conceal it from possible wanderers and invaders, Louis climbed down the ladder from the giant aircraft's cockpit and he saw Elise preparing for a test flight of her own. He didn't know what the craft was that she was testing but he did know that she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. From her dark auburn hair to her long legs, she was perfect. Even in her unflattering flight suit Louis could see every flawless curve of her body, and his breath caught in his tightening chest. He tried to gather the courage to ask her out but he never could. He could talk to her, but every time he tried to ask her out he was transformed from an articulate speaker to a stuttering fool. Nobody has ever affected him that strongly. Then as soon as he had been able to get back under control of his breathing, his chance disappeared. Elise entered her test craft, a new high-speed tank. Disappointed with himself, Louis reported the matters of his test flight to the Deck Chief. Still shunning himself from his blundered opportunity he changed into his regular uniform in the locker room. Next time, he told himself, next time.

Chris hated school. He didn't see the point in somebody teaching him things he already knows. He didn't hate every class he enjoyed the creative writing class. He loved to make stories. He was good at it, even the teachers were very impressed. His newest creation was one called "Finding Eden." It was about a group of astronauts searching for lost artifacts that once combined would show the location of Eden. It was science fiction, which was his favorite genre. "Finding Eden" was very different from Chris's other stories. For one, it was very long, over thirty pages, while the rest of his writings were only nine, eleven at most. Another dissimilarity was the fact that it had a sad ending. The astronauts were on the seventh and final planet and their treacherous comrades killed them all in an attempt to be the ones to find Eden first. But in doing so, they shattered all of the artifacts and lost all hope of realizing their dream. He finished telling the story in front of the class. Every one of his classmates was moved by his story. Applause echoed off the concrete walls. Chris was always a little embarrassed when one of his story-telling feats went well. He had gotten a little used to the adulation but he was not fully accustomed to this type of reaction. He sat down and the applause halted abruptly stopped when the bell rang. The students rapidly gathered their books and pencils and sped for the door. Mrs. Grant was shouting their homework assignment as they ran for the door. "I want you to bring in some ideas on paper for tomorrow for another short story!" She shouted over the roar of footsteps not sure if all of the students heard her. It was time to go home. Chris didn't stop at his locker, because he didn't have any homework other than the assignment hastily given from Mrs. Grant. Outside, his dad would be waiting to pick him and his sister up and take them home. Chris exited the building and immediately saw his dad's hover-car and ran to it. He climbed inside. The radio was playing music imported from Earth. What a strange planet it was. They still used fossil fuels instead of electron accelerators for locomotion and other such ancient methods. But soon all that would change, AGE was bringing them the technology that would help them advance. If he could remember right, Chris thought the Earth people's year was 2010. His father was bobbing his head in time to the music that pulsed from the speakers inside the vehicle. It was one of Chris's favorites, "Black Dog" by.he strained to remember the band name. Then it came to him, Led Zeppelin, odd name for a band. When the men came back to Empyreon with the news that they had discovered intelligent life at the extreme edge of our galaxy, every one was ecstatic. One of the first things to come over was music, because the art of music was lost in the several millennia of war that had consumed this section of the galaxy, it was a good change of pace. The next startling fact came. The Earth people were identical, down to every cellular structure and biological function, perfectly identical to the Arm people. That revelation destroyed most of the clergy. Talking over the music Chris's dad said, "How was school?" "Creative writing was fun!" Chris said with a sort of jovialness. "My class really liked 'Finding Eden!" His dad read all of his stories the night before he handed them in for grading. By far "Finding Eden" was his best by light years. "That's great!" He wasn't surprised, he thoroughly enjoyed the story. The song ended, and another came on immediately afterwards. Chris recognized it immediately, "The World I Know" by Collective Soul. The change in the mood of the music was drastic, from the heavy rock chords of "Black Dog" to the beautifully orchestrated smoothness of "The World I Know." "Daddy?" Chris said inquisitively. "Yes." "Why are the Earth people so similar to us?" Chris was still confused about how they were identical to them. "I don't know." He said honestly, though he was slightly confused where that thought derived from, but made no attempt to pursue its beginnings. "Oh." Chris said, somewhat disappointed. He said nothing further about the subject. Helen appeared through the mass of children leaving the school. She rushed to the door Paul opened for her and she climbed in. Paul pulled out of the busy parking lot and drove the short distance to their home. The drive was very relaxing. Deciduous trees lined the road. The branches spanned over the entire street at times making it a sort of tunnel. He made the turn on to the road in which their home was located. He pulled up and parked in the attached garage. Inside, Chris went straight to work on his homework like he always does. Helen shot up the steps and into her room at the end of the hall. She changed into clothes that were suitable for playing outside in. "I'm going to go play outside." She told her parents and took off through the door before they could pass judgment on the situation and maybe tell her no. Sitting in the velvety soft armchair, Emily was flipping through the channels on the holo-set, a three dimensional version of what the Earthlings called television. Nothing was on. She turned it off and walked towards Paul who was rummaging through the refrigerator. She wrapped his arms around him from behind and rested her head on his back. "Why is it we always buy enough food for an entire army division and when I want to munch something we never have anything?" He said partly with disgust. "We have two growing kids remember." She said lovingly. Turning in her gentle grasp, he picked her up by the waist carefully not jarring her leg. Holding her chest high he said, "Well at least I have you to munch on." A smile drew across his face. He pretended to nibble on her chest. "Save that thought for tonight." She said into his eyes with a laugh. She kissed him tenderly on the lips. He held her close, prolonging the kiss as long as he could. Then from the other room Chris called to him seeking help. Paul gently set Emily down, his face had a look on it that seemed to scream sarcastically, 'good timing.' The phone rang. It was as if there were cosmic forces trying to stop them from having a moment's peace. Emily went off to answer it. "Let's just run away from here." Paul proposed satirically. "Can't, remember, little ones." "Well we can just tie them up in the basement with food and water until we get back." He said jokingly. "Daddy." Chris called again. On the phone it was Mrs. Grant, Emily knew her from parent-teacher night. "Mrs. Ham?" The elderly woman said in a sweet voice. "Yes." "This is Mrs. Grant from Chris's creative writing class." "Yes?" "I would like to place Chris's newest story in a regional competition, that is if you say it's okay." Delighted Emily quickly responded. "Of course!" "Thank you. Bye." "Bye." She hung up. She went over to Chris, who was diligently working on his homework, and told him the news. "I knew you could do it!" Paul said while he rubbed the boys head, mussing his hair.

2

Weapons testing was always done with fakes that simulated the real experience. Louis was testing the weapons systems of a new fighter that had made it past the other grueling examinations. The weapons were of old design but of new technology. The main weapon was an accelerated EMG cannon. It shot accelerated bolts of energy towards the target but this one had minor explosive impacts. The secondary weapon was an anti-tank rocket that flew at over two thousand meters per second. The tip was on a timer setting to detonate a split second after it punctured the targets armor. Flying at top speed he raced along the canyon walls, the rock sides just a blur. Making hairpin turns at break neck speeds he knew that a single wrong move could send him hurtling into oblivion. His target was a remote controlled anti-air missile launcher. According to the computer, it was just two seconds ahead of him. Then he saw it, a large blocky object, about the size of a Core Thud. He pulled left then right, so the thing couldn't lock onto him. He fired the anti-tank rocket. With a whoosh, the rocket rapidly accelerated to its flight speed. Then Louis felt something he shouldn't have. The entire aircraft shot downwards several feet, with the nose pointing downwards. He felt his stomach shoot into his throat on the sudden plunge. Realizing he was headed into solid rock, he yanked back on the controls, attempting to level out the craft. As if someone had wanted everything to wrong at once, the electric system failed. The jet began to yaw. Louis tried everything he could think of to start the engine again, including punching the control panel. With no other choice remaining, he pulled the ejector seat, which was on its own circuits for situations like this. An opening appeared above him and his seat jettisoned out of the hole. He could see the jet fly a few hundred yards before it slammed into a rock that sent it spinning like a top through the air. A fiery top with no other mission than to destroy itself on the ground. His chute opened and he began to float safely to the ground. Meanwhile, the fighter was still rotating when it struck the mountainside with enough force to push him back even though he was a good distance away from it. The explosion was huge. Amber light spilled over the entire canyon, filling every crevice with its fierce glow. Louis knew that he would have been killed in that crash if he stayed with the jet. There would have been nothing left of his body. He sat down a few hundred yards away from the burning wreckage, so as to not get burned, and waited for the rescue team to arrive. Actually the rescue team was more of a cadaver retrieving crew, since most crashes killed the pilots. He had plenty of time to kill until the rescue team came for him. With only his senses and thoughts to keep him occupied his mind began to wander. Eventually his thoughts stumbled onto Elise. Her soft olive skin seemed so real in his mind's eye that he thought he could touch it with his physical hand. Her sharp green eyes glowed with a vitality he had only seen thrice before. She walked with such grace and determination that she conveyed a force that must be respected. He fantasized about making love to her but he knew that no matter how good his imagination is the real thing would be infinitely better. His hands glided over her body, lingering over her breasts. Leaning forward, he kisses her softly on the lips. She melts into his arms and kisses back, their tongues exploring each other. He found her center and entered. Fuzziness. She's writhing in pleasure beneath him as he enjoys her softness. Building toward a climax she. The rescue team shatters his reverie with worse timing than General Custer on Earth in his defeat at Little Big Horn. He stood, squinting his eyes at the harsh sun glaring at him. A few hours must have passed since he crashed, judging by the sun. They directed him to the vehicle in which he'd be carried back. He took his time getting to the craft. Wasting time, he kicked a stone around a few times, and relieved himself beside a boulder. After some time, he made his way to the vehicle and got in. The rescue team searched for the black box that recorded everything that happens to the aircraft until its circuits are destroyed. The rescue team took a few minutes to locate it. Finally, he was on his way back to the hanger.

That night, Paul and Emily were reading novels in bed. Paul was reading a thriller about a man who sees things a few minutes before they happen. He was tearing through the pages at such a speed that any faster the pages would begin to smoke from being rubbed together. Emily was somewhat engrossed in a romance novel, the type with the Fabio look-a-like on the cover with a scantily clad babe. Putting her book down carelessly not caring if she lost her page, Emily said, "I'm gonna go put the kids to bed." Barely hearing what she said, he was lost in the gripping novel. "K." Paul zipped through twenty or more pages in the short time she was gone. When she returned she climbed on the bed, laying on her side so she can look at him. Paul didn't even notice her, so she took the offensive. She pulled the novel from his hands. "Hey!" Paul said in objection. Emily set the book down on her nightstand, rolled on top of him and kissed him deeply. When she came up for air, he still had a grievance to her action, but when she slid a hand up his shirt, her intentions became clear. "Ohh." He said, understanding. Emily disrobed herself without getting up. The light from the lamp on Paul's nightstand cast soft shadows across her delicate skin. She pulled his shirt off over his head while he removed his shorts and underpants in a single movement. Emily reached over and killed the light from the lamp. The only light shining into the room was the shine from the full moon slipping between the vertical slats that covered the glass door that led out onto a balcony. She leaned forward and kissed him. Paul pulled her closer while he rubbed her exposed back. Although he was far stronger than she was, she elevated herself into the sitting position, straddling him. Rhythmically at first, she began to slide, placing her hands on his muscular chest for support. Succumbing to the world of pleasure, she picked up her pace. The sweat pouring off their bodies was like an aphrodisiac, as if they needed it. With a wail of ecstasy, Emily climaxed. In an explosion of sensual excitement, Paul sprayed his fluid into her. Coming down off her sexual high, Emily collapsed onto Paul. "Oh, Jesus." She said almost exhausted. "I love you." Paul said stroking her matted hair. "I love you too." She responded with a glow in her eyes. Not bothering to redress, they fell asleep in each others loving arms.

A few weeks have passed since Chris had his story placed into the regional literature competition. He didn't win the grand prize, but he did achieve the highest placing, fifth, for anyone in his grade, third. His parents were very proud of his accomplishments.

3

Thousands of probes were jettisoned into the black emptiness of space, in search of the Core Machines. Into the far-reaching depths of space, across millions of light years they flew. They would search for eternity until they located their quarry. Hundreds of ADIT members scanned an endless stream of data from the countless probes. Numbers and letters perpetually flowed across their monitors. "Sir, I think we may have a problem." "What? Did you find one of the 'Machines'?" "No. There's a problem in our own space." "We don't have any time for domestic problems." "I think you may want to look at this." "Very well. What is it?" "Here's the information. The man told his superior the information. Though he was skeptical about the validity of the information, he permitted a search to begin. He gave the man three days to find a relation between the information and the Machines or he would have to return to his computer and watch the streaming data from the probes until the Machines were found.

"We have a definite sighting. Tell the boss." "The information is too convoluted to get a solid location of where they are, I got lucky on this one. I need more." "So what do we do?"

I am Miles. I live on the grand planet of Deneb. I have been told many times before that I am the luckiest person in the world, because I have survived more battles than any other Arm military personal, ever. I honestly cannot remember how many battles it was, all I know that it was too many. Men are not supposed to have seen what I have seen. They said that fighting battles inside machines would not introduce the men to the horrors of battle as greatly as fighting hand-to-hand. I don't know where to begin to explain how wrong that is. No matter how many layers of steel that they could put between my fallen comrades and I, I could still see their faces twisted in pain and agony, blood spurting from every orifice on their faces. Sometimes, I think that they were the lucky ones. When the Core Consciousness was destroyed I admit I was jovial, but soon that feeling wore off. That's when the sleepless dreams started. In the sleepless dreams, I revisit the battles I've fought in, specifically, the ones where someone close to me died. It is like God is punishing me for what I've done, the number of Core minds I've destroyed. The cause I don't know, but I do know that they are painful for me. Slowly, I became more introverted as the weeks progressed. I have considered suicide many times. I don't know how I made it through those eleven long torturous years. Everybody tells me that I'll get better, but I don't see how I can. I've been turned inwards so long, that I cannot remember what it's like to be normal again, or how to be normal again. I don't really care what day it is, so I don't have a calendar in my home. I could care less what the people outside my world, my home, do so I don't have a holograph projector either. All I do care about is having fresh food. I don't know why I still eat, I could starve myself and nobody would care about this old hermit, but I eat my fill nonetheless. I open the refrigerator door. I pull out a partly eaten sandwich that I started yesterday. I sit in a reclining chair and pull the leg rest up. I rest as I eat the remainder of my sandwich. Outside my window a family plays some game that I cannot discern. I bring my thoughts back to my sandwich, as if I could find joy in it. I have not experienced joy since the collapse of the Core. In my world daylight does not shine. Clouds obscure the faint amounts of light penetrating the monstrous thunderheads that stain the skies above, yet no rain falls. Nightfall brings the hideous creatures of my nightmares to life. I can find no shelter in this macabre situation. Now I find myself sitting in the seat of my Fido I drove in the Arm military in one of my sleepless dreams. The battle I remember. It was the third day of the eighth month on Tergiverse IV. The battle was for control of a mountaintop that was to be used for artillery shelling of a nearby Core base preceding the major siege to conquer the Core on this planet and push them to Barathrum. I remember this battle vividly because it was when I lost my best friend of four long years. Private Jimmy Benson. I saw his Zeus plodding over the rocks towards a death that only I know will occur. If only I could tell him that he would die if he went into battle maybe he would stop, but I know that he would not hear me, because I am only an observer now. My regiment was caught off guard by Core artillery fire. I saw the balls of plasma flying through the air, in the battle I shouted that everyone get out of the way. But I can remember Jimmy's Zeus being struck by one of those balls of death and torn straight down the middle. There was no hope of rescue because the sphere's trajectory carried through the Zeus's cockpit. Jimmy would have been killed instantly. Now I jump to a point after the battle. Me, and the remaining people in my regiment, scrounge through the debris, looking for survivors. I come to Jimmy's Zeus. I know that he is dead, but I dig anyway. After some time, I find the cockpit. Actually it isn't a cockpit any more. It is a literal tube in the Zeus' frame. The edges of the tube are melted from the plasma. There is no blood, there is no body. I jump times again, now it's that night after Jimmy died. I see myself kneeling before a tree in prayer. I had carved a inscription into the bark of the tree that marked Jimmy's resting place, though there is no body. I remember what the inscription says just like I wrote it yesterday. Here lies Jimmy Benson. He didn't leave behind a wife, or kids, or grieving parents. All he left behind was a friend. I shift places again. I am back in my home now, but night has fallen. I looked outside, foolishly expecting to see the family still enjoying the youthful exuberance. Of course, the dark, gloomy street was empty. The family would have returned to their home hours ago. Without knowing the time, I would just succumb to sleep whenever I grew weary, and awake whenever my body wants to. Judging from the absence of light from bedroom windows I knew it was late into the evening, but I might stay up for another hour or so. The night gave me comfort, because then I knew that there was something as desolate and empty as my soul felt.

4

Louis Holliday sat at his computer watching information that streamed across the screen from a reconnaissance mission he was overseeing. This was only one of several dozen recon missions sent out in the past four days. The nature of the missions was to find Core energy waves. Not any ordinary energy waves, the energy waves that were recorded on Salak several months ago. They were looking for the Machines as they were called. The Machines was the Core's answer to extinction. Seven Machines were still in existence. The Core computers on Core Prime only gave the names of systems for the location of these facilities of death. Louis, or Lou as his friends and co-workers called him, was monitoring the missions into the Antilles system. These Machines scared him to death. That is if they were capable of everything his superiors claimed they were. Since he only answered to three people, he believed every word that was uttered from their lips. The ADIT had no system of ranking. You knew who your superiors were. Lou knew that he was on one of the top rungs of the ladder, but he did not know how many people above him he remained ignorant of. He just hoped that they could find a way of neutralizing these Machines before they could become active. If they activated, which the one on Salak did but it malfunctioned, they could produce an army of Core machines that could easily wipe out the entire ADIT despite all the technological enhancements they had made in the past eleven years.

"There are no units that have remained the same since the Battle of Cocytus." Fred Norris said as he briefed the newcomers to ADIT. He hated this part of his job, but as the public relations director he had to. "I won't tell you each and every change, but I will tell you the commonly used craft." It was his job to see that the public never knew what ADIT was. "The first one we will look at is the Archimedes fighter-bomber. With a double heat-guided missile launcher it can easily handle any other aircraft in the sky. And with its high-explosive bombs, it has nullified the use of bomber squadrons. With a maximum airspeed of three hundred fifty meters per second, it is the fastest thing in the sky." The Archimedes Fred pointed out was being towed into the hanger. It was an elegant yet deadly machine. With swept back wings and a pointed nose it looked like it was a weapon itself for a giant robotic nightmare. One of the newcomers asked a question. "With the Core destroyed, why is the government still spending trillions on the military?" "Well, to be frank, the Core wasn't entirely wiped out. And there's also the threat of foreign invaders." The group of three was shocked at the first bit of news to a much greater degree than the latter. They probably didn't even hear the latter. Fred didn't care. "Here is the new tank. The Prometheus is a heavy battle tank with a large long-range plasma cannon in tandem with a one hundred five millimeter flak cannon. In a group of fifteen it can wipe out a well established base quickly." From the wheel base to the top of the turret the tank stood only twenty feet tall. The new adaptations to shock absorbsion tanks with big turrets made it possible for smaller designs while still removing the threat of the barrel's recoil from the driver and gunman. "The final craft I would like to show you, you cannot see here, but you can look at holograms of it in the monitors on your right." He gestured to the bank of computers that were sitting idle. "Just touch the screen and the picture will come on the screen." They hurried over to the computers almost like children in a candy store, but more refined. "The Enterprise Super Star Frigate. We currently have forty-two of them on active duty." He began to pace behind them becoming tired of his own voice. "It has proton torpedoes, four hangers, and an enhanced deuterium laser. The deuterium laser uses metals tendency to expel electrons when it becomes excited and accelerates the effect. With only a single shot the armor of whatever it may be targeting is brittle enough to break with your bare hands. The damage radius ranges from thirteen to twenty-three feet. The main cannon it uses is the quantum laser. It fires a concentrated ball much like the positron cannon but in more of a concentrated area. It is designed to entirely wipe out a section of space and leave objects just meters out of its blast radius unharmed. It is still in the test phase of construction, but all of the Enterprise's have one on board in the incident that it needs it." Now that he finished showing the children the toys he sent them to their rooms. "You are to report to your room and await further instruction."

Wincing as she stood, Emily made her way down a flight of steps and into the kitchen. Her leg often bothered her at night. She then would take some pain relievers and go back to bed. But then there were times when it hurt so badly that she had difficulty walking. Damn modern medicine to hell, she thought. She knew that the medical practices of the past would have been insufficient to save her leg and she would have been confined to a wheelchair for the remainder of her life. But she wasn't sure which was worse, the inexorable pain or being trapped within a wheelchair for life. Times like this she longed for the wheelchair, but when she remembered how much fun it was to play with her children, she almost welcomed the pain. Opening the medicine cabinet, she extracted the bottle of pain relievers and swallowed three of the small pills with no water. She returned the bottle to its rightful place and made her way back to bed. She hated walking up stairs when her leg was feeling the way it was. Pain shot from her leg and dulled her senses with each fretful step. Slowly and tentatively, she made her way back into bed. She pulled up the covers, so as to not disturb her husband, inserted her bad leg and followed it under the covers. In a few minutes, the chemicals in the pain relievers found her brain and numbed her entire body. She rapidly fell into a deep sleep.

5

I dreamt about the war again for the fifth night in a row, and they keep getting more intense by the day. I find myself waking with my mouth open as if I was trying to emit a scream of pain but had no voice to convey it. This night was no different. I woke up shaking uncontrollably and with what seemed like gallons of sweat covering my entire body. The same scene from the dream kept replaying itself over and over in my mind, like an old CD player that kept getting thumped. I remember every gory detail of it. Standing near a vehicle plant, I was slouched against the steel grating of the massive structure when I heard a familiar sound. It was like nails on a chalkboard, you never forget it. The reverberating wham of Intimidator fire rang through the valley more times than I can remember. The shot landed a hundred yards away from me. Even though the Intimidator was quickly silenced the death it rained down was engraved into my memory. The bloody corpses riddled with giant chunks of shrapnel. The dead and the dying all mixed into one ghastly ordeal. The pools of crimson blood staining the ground, couldn't save them all, so much blood, so much death.

The frightful sequence played itself out again, then again. It would only be ceased by a stiff drink. I drank the mixture and in minutes my thoughts became blunt and I forgot about the dream, or at least partly, just enough that I could care less about it.

Dawn arrived. Groggily, Chris pushed himself out of his bed and cautiously tiptoed to the stairs. He listened for any sounds that would expose to him that his parents were awake. He didn't like to go downstairs before they were. He really didn't know why. He heard footsteps. Daddy was downstairs, he thought. He descended the steps, but he grew cold. Something told him to go back up the stairs. His stomach was clenched in a knot. He turned around to go back upstairs. The feeling inside stopped and he felt like he was acting like a child. He hated to act like a kid. Even though he was only eight years old, he still shunned himself each time he acted childish. Again he descended the stairs, this time the entire way down. He heard an unfamiliar voice whisper, "that's him." Chris froze in terror unable to scream, unable to breath. Suddenly something hard hit him in the side of his head. His vision grayed and he fell unconscious to the floor.

Sound asleep and dreaming of a flowered field that stretched out for miles. She was like a child at play, running and laughing with glee. She didn't want the dream to end, because she was able to run and play without pain from her leg. Just as she was jumping into a pile of autumn leaves she was sucked out of her dream and back to reality. Someone woke her by shaking her shoulder violently. "Emily, wake up! Wake up!" Her husband said urgently. Sluggishly, she rolled onto her back, and wiped the sleep from her eyes. "What is it?" She said tiredly. "Chris isn't in his bedroom or anywhere in the house!" He spoke rapidly and his wide eyes seemed to scream out 'I'm afraid.' Snapping out of her daze, "What?!" She shot to her feet and slipped her feet into her slippers. "Are you sure?" She felt her heart accelerating. "I checked all over the house! He isn't here!" Hastily, Emily searched the house even though her husband had already performed the task. She just wasn't ready to except that her son had vanished in the night. She searched the house top to bottom. No Chris. Her heart was pounding against the inside of her chest. She could feel panic begin to surge through her, but she repressed it. People do stupid things when they panic. She needed to keep a level head. She ran into the house to call the police.

6

Outside my window police arrived, they walk to my neighbor's house. Something bad had to have happened over there because the police officers did not have their weapons drawn. Therefore, someone must have phoned them over there. I wonder why. Was it domestic violence? No. I don't think that nice man would ever strike that woman, with her leg and all. Was it because they had illegal possessions inside? No. If that was true then one of the adults would have to make a pickup of the merchandise, and I haven't seen them leave the house after dark, and that would be the only time the transaction would be safe. Was it a robbery? Might be. Don't know why, it just seems right. No matter. I couldn't be of any help anyway, and if I were of any help no one would want an old veteran like me hanging around. It is crying shame of what this world's coming to.

With all of the adrenaline that was pumping through Emily's veins her leg didn't bother her. But she knew that once the high wore off she would be in incredible pain. Within minutes after the police arrived, two men in black suits took over the investigation. Emily could hear the conversation one of the men was having with the chief outside since she had went outside for a breath of fresh air to try and calm her nerves. And what she heard scared her. She didn't know why she did it but she ducked behind a bush and hid. "What do you mean you have the authority?!" The chief yelled. "We have the authority to take over any investigation if it compromises galactic security." The man answered in monotonic voice. "Galactic security?! What does a missing child have to do with galactic security?!" The chief was ready to explode. "The less you know the better off you are." The man turned away from the chief and called the attention of the police officers. "We are now in charge of this case, and we are ending the investigation now." Several of the officers looked puzzled. The man who was talking led the other suited man away from the group of police officers. Once out of earshot they were only ten feet away from Emily. She knew they were dangerous, she didn't know why, she just did. They were so close Emily swore they could hear her heart slamming into her ribs. The one who spoke to the chief said, "They saw too much, we arrived too late." "What should we do then?" "Silence them." "The parents?" "No. That would be too obvious. Let them live, they don't know anything." Emily was frozen in fear. Who were these men, and what did they want with Chris? The two men walked away, and Emily went the opposite way and ran into the house. What was going on? Her blood ran cold as these questions rattled through her head.

The missions to find the Machines were taking too long. Lou still sat at his computer examining the incoming information when one of the top men told everybody to stop, they knew where the Machines were. One of the other people working on the information scanning must have seen it. Now their job switched from search to destroy. They assembled an army twenty times the size of the Core and Arm forces engaged in the Battle of Cocytus. They were taking no chances. The Machines were highly destructive mechanisms of war. The positron cannon would be useless because the sensors on the Machines would pick up the energy flux and destroy the source. The way the first Gemini was destroyed. Twelve Enterprise frigates were loaded to the brim with land assault crews and aircraft. The plan was to take out the Machines one by one. They would not spread their forces thin and risk losing one of the battles and giving the Core a chance to prepare an army with the Machines before they arrived. There was no communications between the Machines so they could not warn each other of the imminent attack. They would overpower the Machines and blow their circuits apart. Then, and only then would the Core threat be extinguished. Maybe.

Those men in the black suits gave me the creeps. I don't know what they were doing here but it didn't feel right. Something's going down and I don't like it. But what can I do. I'm just a depressed old man. I sit in my recliner and try to pull myself out of my hole, but it never works. It always sends me back. I see myself lying with a gorgeous woman. I remember this, it was on Thalassean. That was the last woman I ever had. In fact this was the last time. In the next battle, the destroyer and the rest of the same fleet she served on was sent to the bottom of the ocean. She did not go down with the ship but was able to find something to use as a makeshift lifeboat. She must have drifted for weeks, because they found her emaciated body decomposing when it washed up on shore. I see her now, floating on something that I cannot see. It must several days after the sinking of her destroyer. Her gaunt arms are stretched outwards from her wasted body. Her face is shrunken to the point were you could not tell if she was beautiful or ugly, young or old. Each breath she takes seems like a new venture in misery. Now I'm sitting in my house. Sweat's pouring down face. That particular flashback is always the most devastating to me. From what I can tell, that is the point from which I began my decline into the hole I'm in now.

Emily and Paul sat in their living room as the chief explained what happened to their son, or what the men in the black suits said what had happened. "From what we can tell, at about six in the morning, your son left your house." "But he never even comes down stairs if we aren't down here first." Paul objected. "He might have decided to run away." The police officer proposed. "But that doesn't make any sense, he has everything he could want here." Emily said making her best attempt not to cry. "Anyway, we found his body about three miles away." He was monotonic as the men in the black suits were. "Oh, my God." Paul said when he heard 'body' come out of the chief's mouth. He felt the blood drain from his face. "He was mugged by an unknown assailant about an hour after he left your home." Something didn't feel right about this whole thing to Emily, but something told her to act devastated. "We need you to identify his body at the morgue." The chief was uncomfortably blunt with the news. Which was odd, usually they broke news gently, not with this degree of curtness. "We'll.be down later.today." Emily said with a heavy heart and a bit of confusion, as she stared at her hands on the table. Something was wrong. Paul said nothing, the circumstances over the past few hours had devastated him far more than Emily, because he had not heard what she had. He had the urge to vomit but he suppressed it. The chief stood up and said, "I'm sorry about what happened to your son." But he didn't sound sincere. He exited the house. Paul stood and weakly said, "I'm going to check on Helen. See how she's taking this." His voice crackled with emotion as it trailed off. Solemnly, he went up the steps to the girl's bedroom where she was told to stay until the police left. Emily followed Paul a minute after he left. She saw him leaning against the wall, head hung low, one arm limp at his side, the other pressed against his head. Choked emotional sounds issued from his as he silenced the tears that pressed against him. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. There was something missing in his kiss. Emily knew she had to tell him about what she heard the black suited-men say. No time like the present she told herself. "Something doesn't feel right about this. It feels wrong. It feels." Emily paused thinking of the right word to convey her thoughts, ".dirty." Paul barely was able to find the will to speak. "What are you saying?" He said, his voice wavering. "When I went outside to get a breath of fresh air." Emily told him of what she heard the men in the black suits say. "Holy mother of Christ." Paul was stunned by the events Emily elucidated to him. "They're going to kill the cops that were here, every one of them." Then Paul made a connection, "That might mean that Chris's alive somewhere." He grew more jovial as he progressed through his sentence, but he still remained a degree despondent. "What about the police, they told us we had to identify his.him.at the morgue." Emily had difficulty in saying 'body' as if it would mean that Chris was dead, and she did not want to admit to that. Not yet. Too many questions, not enough answers.

Before they went to the morgue, they decided to say that it was Chris. So they would not appear suspicious. Now, standing before a cart with a white blanket covering what was supposed to be their son. Even though they knew it might not be him under that sheet, they held each other, seeking support. Because they knew The mortician pulled back the sheet and exposed the head. Emily whipped around from the sight of the body. She nearly vomited. Not because the body the mortician revealed was horribly mutilated. The left side of the face was caved in to the eye, which was missing from its socket. Deep bruises covered the entire head. The lips were swollen badly and split in several places. The chin was died crimson from the blood. The hair was the same, dried blood stained and straightened the strands on the forehead and on the left side of the head. She turned away because the body looked remarkably like Chris. Paul shook his head yes as if to say 'we saw enough, it's him.' The mortician wheeled the cart away.

7

Darkness all around, no light or sound except that of his own voice. He felt like he was floating in space but he realized that there was a thick water he was laying on. He could feel several things attached to his head and body. He didn't know what they were so he left them alone. The left side of his head ached, from where he was struck by something. And when he woke up, he was here. "Mommy." Chris said tentatively, expecting an answer but he knew that he would receive none for he had done tried it before. "Mommy, where are you?" He felt like he was going to cry. But he held them back by blinking his eyes. Only children cry he told himself, and I'm not a kid.

At home, Emily and Paul discussed what they thought of the situation they were in. "Well, if Chris is alive, who would take him and where is he?" Emily said, laying out a topic more than asking a question. "You said that the men in black suits are going to kill the six cops that were here, so that would mean they are beyond the law, and do whatever they want." "But that could be a lot of things." "It might be a government agency, a group of foreigners, or it might be the military." Paul said. Emily felt a chill run up her spine that was so cold it made her shiver when Paul said 'military.' It felt like the hand of death himself sliding up the length of her back. "I think it might be the military." "What makes you think that?" "I just have a feeling, that's all." "And I know about your feelings, so let's just say it is the military. That could mean he's on any of a hundred or more planets in any of a thousand installations. It would take ten lifetimes to name them all." Paul said realizing the desperation of the situation. "I know." Emily said realizing the same. "Why would they want a boy?" "That's the part I can't figure out. They go through all the trouble of kidnapping and a cover up. All of it for a boy, just a boy." "It makes no sense." Paul agreed. There was a somber atmosphere hanging in the house as they spoke, and the more they spoke, the heavier it seemed to get. Until it seemed that they would suffocate on it. "I don't think they'd take him too far." Paul said. "Yes, I think it's somewhere close." Emily concurred with him. "So, what do we do?" "I don't know, but it's getting late. Let's sleep on it and talk about it tomorrow." "Good idea." Paul said yawning and stretching at the same time. That night after Emily tucked Helen into her bed, not saying a word about her brother, and after Paul fell asleep, Emily tossed and turned in the soft double bed. Her leg was throbbing, but she didn't want to take any medication if she absolutely had to. It wasn't until several days after the Battle of Cocytus that she learned the full extent of the damage the shrapnel in her leg caused. The obvious damage was the scar that ran from just above her knee a full nine inches, and on the backside of her thigh, a smaller two-inch scar from where the giant piece of metal stuck out the back. The doctors said that the hunk of metal hit her with a force of over ten million pounds per square inch. The metal cut the muscle on the front of her leg in two. Then it shattered her femur, sending shards of bone all through her thigh. They couldn't remove them all because there were too many and most of them were too small. That is part of the origin of her discomfort in her leg, the remaining shards of bone still in her muscles, the other part is the process that the doctors used to repair her leg. The process was designed to regenerate tissue damage quickly, but what it has in speed, it lacks in quality, the tissue that is grown in place is inferior to the surrounding tissue. After that, the piece of metal sliced through the muscle on the back of her leg and protruded out the other side. Luckily, it missed every major artery and had enough heat on it from the explosion to cauterize the blood vessels that it did rupture. Her injury was minor in comparison to some of the other's she'd seen. In on instance, a man was piloting a Rocko when the gyros short-circuited, that balanced the unit so it didn't fall over. When the gyros went the entire unit fell over and tumbled down a nearby hill. Amazingly, the man inside survived, but Emily thought that he'd rather be dead. Both his arms were twisted and misshapen and rendered useless. His once youthful face was tortured and smashed, leaving him deaf, blind and mute. His legs were literally torn away from his body, all that remained were small stumps. He was a complete invalid. Another man took a plasma shell straight through the lower abdomen. His legs and lower half of his stomach were disintegrated instantaneously. He needed to be attached to a special machine that continued the digestive processes so that his body could absorb the majority of the nutrients in the food he ate. Emily knew that her injury could have been worse, but sometimes that does not quench her anguish. Those damn doctors, she thought, they could have spent the weeks operating on her leg, that was the time they told her it would have taken to remove all of the bone shards and perform the lengthier recuperation process. They could have taken all the time they wanted, just so they could alleviate the pain. But the doctors went for speed in operations not precision. Speed, she was only on the table for a little over one hour. The operation only removed the piece of metal and most of the shards of bone. The drugs they gave her afterwards rapidly repaired the muscle and tissue damage and refortified the femur. The drugs acted quickly, in only forty minutes all of the tissue damage and muscles were repaired and the femur was mended. In just one hundred minutes her injury was rectified. On the newly discovered planet Earth that process would have taken months. The pain surged, and Emily nearly screamed aloud in pain. She needed the pain relievers now. She slowly raised herself to her feet and used anything she could as a support. She made it to the steps and shuffled down them sitting down, because she believed she would have fallen if she had walked. She went to the kitchen and took some of the medication. Then returned to bed in the same manner that she descended the steps with, back to her bedroom, into her bed and fell asleep.

Silence, scary silence. Time has lost all meaning. With only his thoughts to keep him company, pictures of scary things that he cannot define flash through his mind. Chris isn't sure if it's day or night, or even what day it is. "Daddy?" He asks the veil of black draped across his vision. No answer, just as he thought. "Mommy."

Emily was yanked violently from her sound sleep, this time not by her leg, but by an unknown force. She swore that she hear Chris call out to her. "Baby?" She asked hoping for a reoccurrence, but none came. She felt as if her heart had been torn from her chest. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes. The time released drugs kicked in again and she became drowsy very quickly. Sleep clouded her thoughts.

Lou was the pilot of one of the Archimedes fighter-bombers. He loved how well they handled. He would kill for a chance to take one of them out by himself and see what she can do. He might have his chance in over the next few weeks in the exploits to take out the Machines. In thirty minutes he would have his first chance. "Pilots man your drop ships." The intercom spat out. "Thirty minutes till orbit." It was coming he could feel it.

Detection-Arm fleet}-Unidentified vessels_count-12 Activate [proximity drain]- charging batteries Time charging 10:34 Batteries charged: Activate [production facilities] --------Failure: error 156. Shut down production racks 1-94. Run production racks 95-100. --------Failure: Insufficient resources. Storage tank 4E nullified. Storage tank 3M nullified. Run production racks 97.

I stand on the steel ground. I should be in my bedroom but I am here. A sleepless dream, but this time it's plaguing me in my sleep. I can see a mass of Core units and installations ahead of me. I remember this. The hours before the Battle of Cocytus. I feel the butterflies in my stomach even though I know they aren't really there. I feel the wind blow cold on my skin, but I know it's only my memory. Now I'm in my Fido giving fire protection to my fellow Arm soldiers. I watch them die, but mostly I see the Core resistance falling to the pressing of the Arm charge. I remember this too. I am under the command of Commander Emmanuel. I should be commanding this battalion. Emmanuel's a child compared to me. The arrogant bastard. I feel an anger burn in my stomach, but I know it's only fleeting. Now I'm watching as the Consciousness is destroyed. I can feel the hot tears burn my cheeks, and see them blur my vision. I can see the joyous reactions of comrades burst into when the Consciousness is finally destroyed. It was the last time I was ever happy. I switch places again. Where am I? I'm in a room, looks something of a laboratory. There's a giant contraption standing in the middle of the room. I feel a presence flowing from it that I think I should know. I do not know this place, this is not a sleepless dream. Computer readouts are on a few monitors.

Machine number one stood just beyond the door that the ground army gazed at. The door was immense, at least one hundred feet tall and nearly three times that in length. The doors surged open. The Arm forces rushed through the opening gate. A stream of Core units were marching towards them. They were a mix of Crashers, Thuds, and Storms. Those were the Core's main assault units, because of their low cost and extreme efficiency in battle for that low economical drain. The Arm squad was of the newer Asp assault k-bots. The most advanced targeting and detection systems were incorporated in the units design. It was armed with a rapid-fire medium laser, which spit out twenty shots a second, and the photon beam. The photon beam was almost a miniature version of the positron cannon. It took thirty seconds to charge the beam but it was design not to explode when it struck the target but rip through the armor and explode inside the unit, ideal for destroying lower level units, like these Core pests that rushed them. The Arm struck first with a flurry of lasers that tore through the lesser Core units like a bullet through flesh. Explosions of every kind reduced the oncoming Core units to rubble quickly. But they kept coming. The first wave of rocket k-bots fired at the Arm units. "So this is why the Core put these units in the machines programming, they are so cheap they would just simply overwhelm the opponent eventually." "Don't forget about the photons boys." Right then a throng of blue lasers devastated the Core advance. The photon beams were more powerful than they had to be. The shock from each detonation pinned each of the pilots into their seats and made their eyes water. The Asps now made a charge of their own. Plowing through the enemy k-bots was a chore. They just didn't stop coming. Wave after wave they fell, but more just came from behind them. Now the rubble was becoming a nuisance. The photon beams took care of the more pesky piles of scrap, while the lasers blasted the attackers to pieces. "Number one is close, check around that corner." "We got it! It's the master control!"

Intruder alert: Intruder alert. Defensive mechanisms failed. Production racks 97-halt production. Possible information spill immanent. Trigger self-destruct. T-minus 5:00.

"Blow the whole fucking thing!" The photon beam tore into the control board and it was destroyed instantly. Looking at the readouts on the screens lining the room. The man in the Asp that just destroyed the main console saw something that would turn the whole mission into a waste of time. The self-destruct was activated. "Get the hell out here! The thing's on self-destruct!" He yelled as he streaked out of the room, telling everybody what he saw. Hastily, all of them ran for the exit. "MOVE, MOVE GODDAMMIT!" The leader shouted at the top of his lungs. They broke into the day outside and kept running. That thing would make one huge explosion when it finally went.

T-minus 0:04. T-minus 0:03. T-minus 0:02. T-minus 0:01. Detonation.

A gigantic explosion ripped through the planet. The Asps were thrown forward by the immense shockwave emanated by the Machine. A white flash lit the world around them. It was so bright the sun was blotted out in comparison. Behind them, a huge crater marked the place where the thing once stood. The tail end of the mushroom cloud the explosion manifested dissipated in the jet stream and was carried off by the wind. Only three Asps were lost, all taken by the explosion. Not bad. But the Machine was only running on one rack, if it had all racks operative, it might have been a whole other story.

8 Emily slept listlessly. She kept having a reoccurring nightmare throughout the night. She would wake up sweating profusely, wanting to scream in terror but can't. After a few minutes, she would fall back to sleep. She's back on the battlefield of the Battle of Cocytus. The Crasher is standing in front of her, it explodes, but she doesn't move. The piece of metal that almost destroyed her thigh struck her in the stomach and threw her backwards five or more yards. Blood spewing all around her in a growing puddle of crimson. Her legs don't want to move, she can't even feel them. Paralysis. Her worst fear. Ironic, that the thing that would cease her agony of her leg permanently, she was terrified of, maybe it was justified. The Bulldog that picked her up in reality, turned away from her. A feeling of helplessness fell over her. She tried to shout after the tank, but only choking sounds were issued from her lips. A warm trickle fell from her mouth. Raising her hand to the spot, blood. The red liquid marked her fingers. There was no pain. Nothing. She couldn't feel anything. She attempted to pull the metal slag from her stomach. But when she touched it, it transformed into fire. It spread over her body rapidly, but she felt nothing. No burning, no desire to quench the flames dancing across her. The flames began to extinguish themselves but as they did, they exposed skin that was transformed into circuitry and gears. Panic shot through her like a knife. Again she woke up. The same sweats, the same cry of terror that never came. But this time she did not fall back to sleep. She knew what this dream meant, that she had cheated death, that she was supposed to die there with the metal shard lodged in her chest, at least that's what she thought it meant, and she was pretty damn sure she was right. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, hugged herself and cried. She cried for Chris, her little baby. Gone. NO! Not gone. She would get him back. She would make those bastards pay for what they did to him. Right there she made up her mind that she would not rest until Chris was returned to her. She would kill anyone that stood in her way, they were all the same. Ruthless, heartless, bastards. Crying, she felt something in the room with her. Not malevolent, but benign. This time when she fell asleep, her dreams were not nightmarish. They were peaceful. She dreamed of holding Chris in her arms the day he was born. The bliss she felt as she rocked him to slumber in her arms, the sweet tears that flowed her eyes as she looked upon his innocent face. The delivery was complicated, Chris would be her last child. She woke up feeling refreshed, but that feeling vanished when she remembered that Chris wasn't there. In the dining room she sat with a cup of coffee staring at the wooden table. She heard Helen climb down the steps with her distinctive walk. One step down, feet on same step, right foot forward one step, left foot joins right. She always descended the steps in the morning in that fashion. Emily began to wonder why. Maybe because a simple thought would cloud her mind enough to, for a moment or two, make her forget about her worry. Looking tired and a little downtrodden, the eleven year-old half walked and half stumbled to the chair across from her mother. "How you feeling sweetie?" Emily asked in as soothing a voice as she could muster, but to her it did not sound real enough to fool anyone. The girl looked down at her hands in her lap. She looked daunted by the pressures that were growing around them. "Empty." She replied. Empty, that word summed up the feelings that Emily had too. Strange how a child can better understand feelings than an adult can. Maybe it was because the adult's mind was poisoned by the hate of society, where as the child has only seen that hate but never tasted its bittersweet flavor. "I know baby. I know."

I see that room again. What is this room? I feel something in that sphere in the middle of this place. Who, or what is it? I see men now, three of them. They are wearing white lab coats. What are they doing? Tests? But on what? They stand around the sphere, one of them walks over to the giant ball. He glances back at one the others. And he shakes his head. He does something to the computer attached to the sphere. WHAM! A violent shock just shot through me, but the three men obviously didn't feel anything. My fingers are tingling. I want out of this dream. A new sensation now. My brain feels like its being invaded, or someone's trying to get in. STOP! I shout, but no one seems to hear me. The invasion continues. One of the men hits a button. Almost as soon as he hit that button the intrusion in my mind halts. But a single sound rings through my head like the old air raid sirens wailing through the night. "He." I hear. Then the voice trails off. WHOOSH. I am sitting in my couch. The glass of bourbon is still in my hand, not a drop was spilled from it. So I wasn't asleep. If I had fallen asleep, that glass would have spilled at least some of the contents onto the aging cushions. That was the third time I've had that dream. No, it wasn't a dream and it wasn't one of my sleepless dreams. But what was it?

Too much thinking, time for the bourbon. I drink the whole glass of the cool liquid. I pour myself another, and drink that down as well. No more thinking tonight, the bourbon will ensure that.

9 Gary stood, staring at the isolation chamber. He knew that what lay within did not deserve to be there. He turned to Walter. At night him and Walter were the only people in this room. "I feel like slime." "Why?" Walter said unemotionally, like he was a robot or something. "We have that kid locked up in that, that.thing.when he shouldn't even be here." "What are you saying Gary?" Again his voice carried no feeling. "I'm saying what we're doing here is unethical!" "Ethics means nothing." "What do you mean it means nothing!" "I think you're in the wrong line of work if you feel like that." Wrong line of work, eh? I'll show you wrong line of work. Gary had to do something or they were going to destroy the child. Not kill him, but leave him a senseless vegetable for the rest of his life, a punishment worse than death. And all for knowing something he shouldn't. He was only a child for God's sake. He didn't know what he knew was as important as it was. He had to do something and do it know. Time was running out. He had maybe three days at tops left to keep from descending into a mental incompetent and further. Walter checked all of the EEG, EKG, and other readings as they flowed across the screens and took notes on each of them. Gary felt a surge of adrenaline pump into him. He looked at the lab table and grabbed a heavy glass graduated cylinder. Holding by the neck it felt like it weighed three tons in his hand, when in reality the thing was probably about two pounds. He thought about what he could do. First option, leave the lab and get the hell out of here. Problem, Walter would stop him before he could even get the first door open. Solution, remove Walter from the equation. No way around it, he would have to immobilize Walter. Gary snuck up behind Walter and raised the cylinder in his hand like a Neanderthal wielding a club. Walter turned around saying, "What the hell are you do.Holy shit!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. But he didn't react fast enough. Gary swung the cylinder with everything he had. It struck Walter square in the hairline. Glass flew across the room spraying Gary with thousands of little shards. He deterred his eyes so as not to be blinded by the tiny chunks of flying glass. After a moment Gary looked at Walter. Blood was streaming down his face from the serrated cut from the cylinder. Gary couldn't see the gash but he knew it was bad. He checked Walter's reflexes by kicking him hard in the crotch. No response. Either he was unconscious or dead. Didn't matter which, Gary had to get out and fast. He ran over to the sealed door and ripped it open. Sprinted through the small corridor and disengaged the wheel lock on the door. It swung open. Urgency seemed to pulse through every one of his veins. His heart felt like it was pumping pure adrenaline instead of blood. He slammed on the third and final door, which could only be opened from the outside. The guard opened a communications channel through which they communicated. Come on, hurry up. "What is it?" The guard asked. "There was an accident! Doctor Walter needs help now!" That would get the door open. The door flew open and the guard came rushing in. "Where is he?!" Doctor Walter was the most important man in the research team. That was why the guard opened the door so quickly. "He's in here!" The guard followed him. He didn't notice the blood stained cylinder neck Gary held in his hand. The guard took a step and Gary thrust the neck into the guard's neck. The guard made a choking sound and in a few seconds that was melded with a gurgling noise. Blood spewed from the open wound and from his mouth. In seconds he fell over, dead. I just killed a man, Gary thought. Then the sense of urgency fell over him again. And he ran through the door after grabbing the guards gun, it may come in handy. Running through the corridors heading towards the rear exit. That was where the security was the lightest and also where the people went out to talk a walk in the woods. The guards there would not pay any nevermind to him if he left there. The corridors were empty at night, which played in Gary's favor. He rode an elevator up to the ground level and through several hundred yards of hallway lit by fluorescent lights. Six thousand years of advancement since the light bulb was invented, and it has hardly changed at all. Then he saw it, the rear gate. Casually, he walked up to the desk that impeded his path. He tried to hide his adrenaline high but he wasn't sure how well he was doing. They didn't waste time here. Since the only people that came to this desk wanted to leave, the first question was easy. "What is your reason for leaving?" The man asked while he looked through a pornographic magazine. "I want to talk a walk through the woods." Gary replied. He hid his urgency quite well. "Leave through the gate." The guard said never talking his eyes from the pages of the magazine before him. Obviously the guard was so wrapped up in getting off on the pictures of women exposing themselves that he had forgotten to make Gary sign out. Gary walked to the gate, sure that the guard would stop him and ask more questions. The short distance looked like a mile to Gary. Ten feet to go. Now it looked like a marathon track. Five feet. Three thousand light years. He burst through the gate and the cool night air hit him in the face nearly knocking the breath out of him. "Ok, Gary. Where to now?" He was talking to himself. Then he remembered that there was a small town about twenty miles north of here. No problem. He found his bearings and set off. The guard would only realize that he wasn't coming back by the time morning came and passed tomorrow. Gary set off into the night.

Emily knew something was wrong with what happened to her son from square one. She decided to do some investigating on her own. She drove the hover car over to the public library. A custom borrowed from Earth. Inside computers ran all day and all night. They were connected to the computers in the municipal buildings so the people could access information easily. Entering the giant stone building Emily went straight for the top floor and as far away from people as she could get. She sat down at a computer console and thought about where to start first. She decided to start at the beginning. She entered the city news files, from there she could gain legal access to any information that the news may have carried. The screen loaded up and she typed in "Chris Ham" in the search box and hit enter. She waited a few moments for the computer to interpret her quarry and give her a readout of the information she requested. The hourglass shaped cursor twisted on the screen for a few moments. When it stopped, Emily sat up and got ready to read any information she might want to look at. The screen loaded again and what she saw confused her.

Access denied. No admittance.

What the hell? She wondered. What was so important about my kid? She thought to herself. She backed out of the screen and tried another route. Wondering aloud she said quietly, "If I can't see anything about my boy directly, I'll go through it backwards." Surely some newspaper or something would have done something with him in that literature contest she thought to herself. She went back to the keyboard and entered "Finding Eden" the title of Chris's story and struck enter. Again the same screen showed up.

Access denied. No admittance.

In a brief fit of anger and frustration, she punched the monitor. She pulled her hand back and rubbed her knuckles to try and soothe the pain that pulsed from them. Why the giant cover up? What so important about this? She thought. Then something came to her. Galactic Security. The government agencies could do anything they want if the situation compromised the security of the Galactic Empire or any secrets it may be withholding. But why? She thought about that one for a few minutes and decided to try another route. If she could not get the information legally, she would have to hack the computers of some agency or another to get what she desired. But that would be like playing with fire in a room filled with high explosives.

She was quite adept at hacking computers but the last time she did it was in the war. Eleven years is quite a long time. But she figured that her old skills would come back to her once she got started. She popped in an old disk that contained her hacking programs from eleven years ago. The drive read the disk and showed its contents on the screen. She entered the program titled 'Spitfire' one of the five hacking programs on the disk. The main screen popped up. It looked identical to another program on all computers so people that happened to look at your screen would not know what you are doing. She tied the program into the search machine she was currently on. Now, she could lay out the path for the search to follow, and if she did it correctly, it would bypass the block on the information she desired. She entered in the quarry and began the lengthy process of laying out the agenda for the search to follow including what blocks to ignore. Her fingers flew across the keys making clickety-clack noises as the keys rebounded from her fingers depressing them rapidly. She was apparently rusty at hacking. She kept on having to go back over her work and fixing things here and there. Finally, she was finished. She commanded the computer to perform the search she mapped for it. Success! A list popped onto the screen containing a throng of entries. She was inside the regional government's databanks. She scrolled through the seemingly endless list of entries until she found one that grabbed her attention.

Chris Ham. Unknown mortician entry.

She entered into that file. It seemed like a good place to start. She rose in her seat to look for any people that may be wandering near her. Nobody was around, from what she could tell she was alone in this area. She returned to her work.

Mortician name: Access denied Mortuary name: Access denied Identity of body: Chris Ham Cause of death: Massive brain damage Details: Access denied

"Damn." She muttered under her breath. This required more hacking. She wondered how deep she had to go until she found what she was looking for. She brought up the window that contained her hacking programs. She activated 'Rip' a smaller program that was capable of breaking through firewalls and other blocks. She looped into the file she needed to break into. After an excruciatingly long period of time the program took to locate the block and determine the proper sequence for the access codes she was given the permission to see the details. She entered into the once refused file.

Details: Mortician furnished with cadaver simulated in identical condition in accordance to the information supplied by unknown source. This mortician did not see Child in question.

Emily felt the warmth drain from her body when she read that hidden entry. It was clear to her now, or at least part of it. Chris is alive somewhere. Tears of joy peaked through her eyelids and burned her cold skin. She touched the screen as if it would let her see her child and feel him hug her one more time. Then she heard a thump from the stairs. She shot up and looked at the source of the dubious sound. Two men in black suits were walking up the steps. She felt a surge of adrenaline hit her with enough force to knock the wind out of her. She began to shut the programs that would prove her guilt. Then she tore the disc out of the drive and jammed it into her purse. Then she shut the computer off. She about to get up and walk out when something inside her said, "No!" She sat back down, her guts tied in a knot. She knew they would kill her, she didn't know why. More than likely they were going to interrogate her, then kill her. Again, she didn't know why. The men began to search the rows of books looking for anyone else in the floor, or possible witnesses. She realized that they could discover her intentions on the computer if they examined its usage history. She would be nailed. Destroy the evidence. Knowing what she had to do she began to rip the wires out of the back of the contraption. She lifted the light processor unit and whipped it out the window behind her, sending it crashing to the pavement below. There it would shatter into a million indiscernible pieces of circuitry and plastic. The bang that the thing made when it struck the window grabbed the attention of the men and they began to come toward her location. From the aisle next to her she heard, "Kowalski, check it out." She heard a man begin to walk to the opening and he would see her plain as day. Quickly, she thought of a plan. The man stepped around the corner. He was huge. At least six foot five inches, and had to be at least two hundred fifty pounds. He began to move toward her. There was a crude sneer on his face. When he got within reach she grabbed the loose keyboard from her computer that lay in the street and swung it violently at his head. Reflexively, he raised his hands to protect his face. The keyboard made contact. Buttons flew everywhere, stinging Emily in the face. Taking advantage of his defensive position, she gave a hard, swift kick to the groin. Reacting to the rush of pain he dropped to his knees and covered his crotch with his swelling hands, since they took the full front of the keyboard attack. Attacking like a cat, she pounced on the opportunity. She threw his head backwards and planted a solid fist into his Adams Apple twice, collapsing it. He fell back struggling for breath that would never come. He would surely suffocate on the floor there. Obviously, whoever they were, didn't anticipate her being able to defend herself this well. The other man came around the corner saying, "Jesus, Kowalski. You didn't have to make that much noise to get rid of her." When he saw his partner dying on the floor and a wide-eyed woman standing beside him his jaw almost hit the floor. Emily had almost no logical control over her actions. Her anger seemed to burst out of her like an erupting volcano. She grabbed on of the skinny monitors and threw it at the other man like it was a merely a plush toy. It struck his arm and he grabbed it like it was broken. Following the monitor, she rushed him and plowed into him like a linebacker in the Earth sport football. On the ground they began to grapple with each other. Emily was trying to claw his eyes out and make him pay for Chris. The man reached inside his coat pocket. By the time Emily realized what he was doing it was too late. He had pulled the trigger on his weapon. But since they were in such close quarters he wasn't able to get a good shot off. The shot ripped through the left side of her ribs. Luckily, it only tore through the outside of her ribcage, too far away to do any serious damage, but it still hurt like hell. The pain shot through her adrenaline high and the man threw her off of him and stood up. Rubbing his sore arm he said, "What were you doing here?" "Go to hell asshole." Emily said through her teeth. She grabbed her wound and tried to stand up, but her bad leg inhibited her from doing so. He kicked her right thigh, obviously knowing that it was bad. Pain blared out from it and she let out a painful cry. Tears blurred her vision. "I said, what were you doing here?" "Fuck off." She said angrily. He stomped harshly on her thigh making pain explode form her leg ceaselessly. Now, the pain in her leg was ten times worse than the wound in her ribs. He knelt and jammed the weapon forcefully into her temple. "Ok, bitch. Maybe you don't understand me. I want you to tell what you were doing here and I want to know right fucking NOW!" When he said 'now' he pushed the gun harder into her head making her wince under the pressure.

This is the end she thought. Even if I tell them, I won't get out of here alive. She closed her eyes and waited for the darkness to come. Her life began to flash before her eyes. Her childhood, living in fear in bombed out buildings, rummaging through trash to get food. Adolescence, training for the military, not much there. But when she thought of her life now, the thought of Paul grieving over her was too much. She couldn't die here, not like this. Moving as quickly as she could she swung for the guy's crotch but he evaded her attack and fell backwards in doing so. "Still got some fight left in you I see." He stood up and planted a hard kick into the wound on her chest. "Now let's see you fight." He raised the gun to her head, "Goodbye then." A wicked smile drew across his lips.

Emily began to cry. There was nothing she could do. She would die right here. She heard the gunfire, but nothing hit her. Maybe he was tormenting her before he killed her by shooting around her before putting one in her head. But instead of another shot being fired, the man fell on top of her calves. She looked at him. His head was literally blown off. Only a bloody stump remained. That was when she saw the man standing at the stairs. He was holding a large weapon. He was the one who just killed the man planning on killing her. He ran over to her, she could hardly make his face out through the pain and tears. From what she could see he had a white coat on. Strange, all white clothes. "Are you all right?" He said in an urgent voice. She felt like grabbing him by the shirt collar and shaking him around a little bit screaming at him, 'Does it look like I'm all right?!' But all she could manage was a shaking of her head indicating, no. "There may be more coming. We have to get you out of here, fast." He picked her up avoiding her injuries. "Who are you?" Emily managed to say weakly. "No time now. Later." He was talking fast, almost panicky. Slowly they made their way to the fire escape. "What are we doing here?" She said with no more strength than last time. "We can't leave through the main exit, they may be watching." He opened the window and helped her out, and then he followed. The pain had been dulled into a relentless throb. Maybe she was slipping into unconsciousness. For some reason, the thought of being unconscious felt comforting to her right now. Before she realized what was happening, she was in his hover car, and he was pulling into traffic. Normally if a stranger would have dragged her into a car, she wouldn't have entered without a fight. But now she could hardly lift her arms, let alone defend herself, she was at the mercy of this man. Strange though, no fear churned her stomach. "Where do you live?" He asked. Surprised that she remembered it, Emily gave him the address and fell into darkness where pain had no meaning.

10

After the almost disastrous assault on the first Machine, the men were getting prepared for the worst on the next attack. But they were sure they would destroy the Machine. "Approaching planet Qaxar. Drop crews man your stations immediately. Drop will commence in seven minutes."

Detected: Arm Vessel unknown class. Activate: Resource drain. Error: Storage tank 3e frozen. Activate: |Bypass route 3-4. Resource drain completed. Activate: Production racks 1-100. Error: Rack gears 2,3,9,12-85 frozen. Shut down: Erred Racks. Activate: |Emergency detection system.

"Three, two, one. Release drop ships." The six ships were launched from the bottoms of three Enterprise Super Frigates. Plummeting to the surface they hit the atmosphere and the fiery ball surrounded them as they cut through the resistive gas. The drop ships were designed to transport units on starships instead of using Galactic Gates. The renovation was extremely quick and delivered troops to the battlefield with alarming speed and accuracy. It took six minutes for the drop ships to make the voyage to the surface. Massive boosters fired as they approached the surface to cushion the landing. Once they made contact, the drop ships were emptied in twenty seconds flat. Each ship carried thirty units, since there were six of them that made the entire army only one hundred eighty versus an infinite amount of enemies. Their mission was altered from the way they performed the first assault. In the first assault, they were to blow the main circuits, which would cause the entire Machine to shut down. This time, they were targeting a station closer to the exit. The detection systems. With those destroyed, the Enterprise's could all fire their quantum lasers and annihilate the Machine below without a return volley being fired by the defensive mechanisms of the Machine. A simple plant but was fraught with danger. ADIT was not sure how operative the Machine below could be. They did not know how many attack units they could be facing or any other bit of information that could assist the assault in any shape or form. It was like walking into an unfamiliar, lightless room with a murderous killer with night vision trying to kill you within. You can bump into a table or fall into a pit or the maniac can find you and cut your throat out. Needless to say, the attack squad was extremely nervous before setting out into the unknown. The majority of the forces were Asp's, which proved extremely efficient in the first assault, but there were others as well in this attack. Two other new innovations since the Battle of Cocytus were the Diamondback and Fang, both of them were advanced k-bots. The Diamond back was shorter than the Asp, the Asp was thirty feet tall while the Diamondback was only eighteen. However, while lacking in size, it makes that up in weaponry accuracy and speed. Its weapons constituted of a high explosive, seeking, smart missile. That means it does a great deal of damage and it tracks its target and detonates its explosives after punching through the targets armor, usually destroying it with a single shot. The secondary weapon was its energy bolt machine gun. It accelerates super-charged bolts of deuterium, that has had its nucleus removed, and rapidly fires them in a straight line. The Fang had only a single weapon, a gauss cannon. The gauss cannon is one of the few weapons that have remained unchanged since the Great War. The only advancements it has had is its range and damage, both were increased by a factor of two. Thus, the Fang is a superb unit for laying down cover fire. Qaxar is a planet with scattered forests and almost as much organic plant life as Empyreon. But there is one crucial difference. The planet has no oxygen. The plant life is not the same type of plant life as on Empyreon. It is a harsh looking brownish red color. Instead of taking in carbon dioxide and expelling oxygen like normal plants, they take in nitrous- carbohydrate and expel a gaseous from of carbonic acid. Therefore, the units had a finite amount of time to perform their task before the atmosphere ate through their armor. Obviously, the Core had redesigned this Machine to produce units that could walk through this atmosphere and remain untouched by its corrosive nature. The timeframe the ADIT attack had was twelve minutes to land, take out the detection systems and get the hell out of there. That was asking quite a bit, figuring that the first assault took that long just to make it to the detection systems. This was a new endeavor into the world of death. "SCRAMBLE!" The entire attack force shot from the doors of the drop ships into the atmosphere that would deteriorate their armor relentlessly. With literally no time to waste, they hastily made their way to the entrance of the Machine.

Paul heard an urgent knocking coming from the door. He put down his novel, marking his page, and slowly made his way to the door. Again the knocking came. "Calm down. I'm getting there." He said to the door, but he knew the person on the opposing side couldn't hear him. He opened the door a crack. A man dressed in all white clothes was standing there. The man was supporting somebody with both of his arms. Paul said, "What do you want?" "Open up. You're in danger. For the love of God, let me in!" His voice was panicky. "Look, buddy, just get your ass off my property before I blow your head off." Paul wasn't bluffing, he had a laser pistol in the kitchen on the refrigerator and a laser rifle in the bedroom. And he wasn't afraid to use either one. "Your wife's hurt badly." He said desperately trying to get in the house. "You're lying." "No!" He turned and showed him the person he was helping to stand. "Look." Paul was looking at the tilted face of a battered Emily. "Oh, my God!" He flung the door open and pulled the man in, assisting him in carrying Emily's nearly unconscious body. "She's been slipping in and out of consciousness for the last eight minutes." "What the hell happened?" Paul said trying in vain to conceal his worry. "They got to her before I did." "Who? Who're they? And who are you?" "Not now." They carried her into the living room and gently laid her on the couch. Paul looked over her injuries. The gaping wound in her ribs was pretty bad, but it didn't look like it needed medical attention. But what made Paul's heart sink were the huge and deep bruises that marked her ribs, and right thigh. He could only imagine the agony she was in when the bastard who did this struck her bad leg. She would be in indescribable agony tomorrow, Paul knew it. "She doesn't need a hospital. But you may want to wrap that bullet wound." The man said. "First, tell me your name." Paul said turning to look at him. "Not now, we need to get that wound treated." Paul stood up, grabbed the man by the collar of his white coat and easily elevated him from the ground. Almost growling, Paul grunted though his teeth, "No, asswipe! You tell me now! Or I'll rip your goddamned balls off and jam 'em up your fucking ass!" The man grew wide-eyed in terror. This man is unbalanced the man in the white coat thought. He must genuinely care for this woman or he wouldn't be acting like this. At first, he thought this was a marriage in which the woman was impregnated and they got married because of it. Most of the marriages after the war were similar to that story. Apparently, he was wrong about this one. "W- Wallace." He said nervously. This man could easily tear him limb from limb. "D-Doctor G-G-Gary Wallace." With that the man put him down. "I'm Paul Ham." He said, still a little angry, but he didn't know why. "I know." "Well, get something to help me bandage this thing then!" Paul said sharply. Emily became conscious again. With half closed, bloodshot, eyes she said weakly, "Paul?" "I'm here honey." Paul said soothingly. "It hurts." Emily said as tears welled in her eyes. Paul felt helpless. He bit his lip to hold his tears back. He would kill whoever did this to her. Gary returned with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, some clean white rags, and some heavy tape that he gathered in the kitchen to form a makeshift bandage. He placed one of the rags below Emily wound and poured the hydrogen peroxide over the gouge. The sudden sting of pain shot through Emily like a knife. Wincing, she was thrown from the realm of unconsciousness. The hydrogen peroxide didn't fizz, no infection. Paul placed two of the rags over the wound and taped them on. Primitive, but it would work. Emily tried to move, but shot back down when she tried to move her leg even an inch. "Alright, Gary. Emily's awake. Now, what the Hell is going on here?" Paul said putting emphasis on 'hell.' With a strengthening voice, but still weak, Emily said, "Yes, what's going on here?" Gary sighed. "The people who took are a top-secret agency called ADIT." A flush of guilt flashed over his face. "How do you know all of this?" Emily said. "Well for one, I'm a member of ADIT. Secondly.I don't know how to say this but.I am one of the people who ran tests on your son." He seemed so full of guilt that he would just simply overflow with it and his guilt would spill on the soft cream-colored carpet. Please, believe me when I say this. I never hurt him in any way." He knew that this was a highly emotional subject and he wanted to save himself as much as the boy so he began to quickly ramble that he wasn't responsible for anything they did to him. "Honest, I was only a lab assistant. I didn't have any say in the treatments or the tests. He was holding his hands up to his face to protect himself from an attack but none came. He looked at Paul, he was sitting on the edge of the coffee table and gripping the edge so hard his knuckles were turning white. Apparently, he had wanted to kill Gary, but he must have thought it wouldn't be worth the effort. "I would have brought the boy with me when I broke out, but I wouldn't be able to get him past the guards at the back gate. Otherwise, he would be here right now. I'm sorry." He was still nervous. "Get on with your story!" Paul snapped at him. "These people are powerful, more powerful than the government. They're above the law. If you try to go public with this, they'll have you killed in the name of galactic security. If we get your son out of that place, you'll have to move, and fast. You'll need new identities. They will hunt you down and kill you. They have no compassion for life, they'll kill you just to watch you bleed." Gary was shaking violently. He pressed his hands into his lap as hard as he could to try and cease their vibrations. "I think it would be better if you don't know too many of the details." Paul and Emily said nothing. Gary looked at them and understood why. The shock that their life was basically over stared them in the eyes and froze their thoughts. "I think I know where you can go to be safe from them. It's." Before he could finish his sentence a knocking came at the door. Quietly, he said, "Don't get that, it may be them." "Upstairs." Paul whispered. Gary stealthily made his way to the steps and ascended them, while, Paul half-carried Emily along the same route. Emily kept wincing with every step, trying not to scream. BAM! BAM! The knocks were harder this time. Time seemed to stand still. The stairs seemed to never end and that any second the men in black suits would burst through the door and kill them all. Then they were standing in the upstairs foyer. "Take Emily, go to the room on the right, go out the window, and jump to the garage roof. If I don't come back in two minutes, climb through the window there and get the hell out of this place." Gary followed his orders. "I'll be back honey, I need to grab something." He ran down the steps and out of sight. Emily didn't think she'd ever see him again and her heart seemed to gain five hundred pounds. Climbing onto the roof they heard the door smash in and somebody yell, "Hit the floor!" But that comment was followed by a barrage of weapon fire. Emily tried to climb back into the house but Gary held her back, "Let me go! He needs help!" "You can't help him! If you go back there you'll be killed for sure!"

Paul wasn't sure how many of them he hit, at least one, maybe two, could be as many as three. Always assume the lowest. He told himself. There were six of them, all in black suits. What is with these guys and black suits? He was holding the energy pistol that was on top of the refrigerator. He didn't like hiding, but that was all he could do right now. Hide. Hide and wait. He checked his shoulder. A shot grazed his shoulder when he dove for cover. It wasn't bad. It didn't even hurt too much. Apparently, the shot only skinned him. "Come on out Mr. Ham! You're surrounded! Throw the gun away and come with us peacefully, we won't hurt you!" One of the men shouted so Paul would be sure to hear him. Paul saw three shadows fall across the curtains in the living room. He was surrounded. He took careful aim, and took one of them out with a shot to the back, or was it the front, he couldn't tell, all he saw was a silhouette. The other two men fell to the ground to make smaller targets of themselves. But Paul knew the structure of his house, an advantage to him. He took out another, the shadow was tossed up in the air and came back down and didn't move. That's three, three more. There were eight shots left in the chamber before he'd have to recharge it. The third shadow stood up and tried to run away but Paul blasted him before he could get too far. Judging from how he fell, Paul figured that he had fallen of the porch and hit the cement patio twenty feet below. He felt dirtied each time he pulled the trigger, but these people were going to kill them. Paul had less than two minutes to get out of this deadlock before Gary and Emily left. The stairs were twelve feet away. He could make a mad dash for them while firing at the men. No, that would be almost like suicide. He quickly thought of a plan. Ripping off his shoe, he threw it at the kitchen window. The glass shattered. Paul ran for the stairs firing as he went, hoping that he would hit someone. He made it to the steps and he bolted up them taking three and four steps at a time. He almost ran to the window but he bolted for his bedroom instead. He tore open the closet and wrenched out the laser rifle inside. Then he ran for the window.

Staring at his watch Gary was waiting for the two minutes to be up. Then suddenly a man came barreling through the garage window. He jumped off the rafters and into the open backseat making the vehicle bob up and down violently. The man shouted, "Drive!" It was Paul. Gary tramped the accelerator and the hover car sped through the garage door. Gary turned the vehicle onto the street and pushed the machine to its limit. After a few minutes of high-speed driving, Gary looked behind him. There was nobody there. They weren't being followed. He let up on the speed a little, but the car was still going far beyond the speed limit. Still catching his breath, Paul pulled himself into the sitting position and strapped himself into the seat. "Dammit!" Gary blurted from the front seat. "What?" Paul asked. "I left my gun in you kitchen!" "What was so important that you almost got yourself killed?" Emily demanded. "I figured that we might need some weapons so I went back and got the pistol and the rifle." Paul answered, still short of breath. "Are you hit anywhere?" She asked compassionately. "They just grazed my shoulder. Its nothing." Paul assured her. "They must have been unorganized, I took out four of them, maybe five." "FIVE?!" Gary shouted in surprise. "More likely four." Paul said. "But still, those men are trained killers! There's no way, unless you have the best luck on the planet, you could kill five of them!" "I took care of that one in the library." Emily pointed out. "But that second one would have killed you." Gary reminded her. Changing the subject Paul said, "Where are we going?" "We have to get your daughter before they do." Gary said solemnly.

The mad dash to the gate of the Machine was performed in less than five minutes. They didn't even bother to stop at the gate, the Asps fired their photon beams at the door and blew it apart in a fury of metal and fire. The atmosphere had already taken its toll on the units. The lighter Diamondbacks were degenerating at a faster rate than at first suspected. Their hulls were down to less than sixty percent. That would almost mathematically eliminate their chances of survival. But they were not called back. The attack force needed all the firepower they could get. Running at full speed, they burst through the vacant space where the door once was. The welcoming committee stared at them with their weapons trained on them. But the ADIT units fired the first volley. The combination of the Asp's rapid-fire laser, the Fang's high-powered gauss cannon, and the Diamondback's missiles, the first wave was easily pushed back with minimal casualties. The scene was very similar to the assault on the first Machine. A wall of ADIT units pushing back a swelling force of barraging Core units, but this was quite different. The Machine was pumping units out several times faster than the first assault, and this time the ADIT had to work with a time limit. Progress was excruciatingly slow. Since this Machine was in better working order than the other, it was able to replenish its forces at an alarming rate. Since it took them five minutes to cover the distance between the landing zone and the Machine's gate, they were only left with two minutes to destroy the detection systems and that time was ticking away fast. Forty seconds. "Faster men!" The leader shouted. "We can't waste any time!" Their destination stood merely thirty yards away, but it seemed like it was thirty miles. It gleamed like a beacon in the night. The multitudes of Core units never ceased coming. When one died, another came in to take its place. The shootout lasted for seemed like an eternity. Twenty seconds. Ten yards now. Maybe they would be able to destroy the detection systems and get out before they degenerated completely. The Core's huge numbers were playing to ADIT's advantage. The hallways could only row of twenty units and they kept becoming clogged with the huge numbers the Machine was pushing into constricted battlefield. The ADIT units were arranged so that one third of them could fire at the same time. The rest were for replacements. Five yards. Fifteen feet. Ten seconds. Fire and smoke seemed to meld into one sinuous being, flowing left and right, up and down, as if it had a mind of its own. Shrapnel rocketed through the tunnel like tiny airplanes, pelting both sides with showers of white-hot metal. Five seconds. "Blow the hell out of it!" They had reached the detection systems. Three Asps bolted into the room and began to strafe across the banks of computers sending sparks and circuitry scattering through the room. In mere seconds the entire array was wiped out.

"The detection systems are down!" "Charge the quantum lasers!"

"Pull back! Pull back!" The leader shouted. They turned their heels and took off for the drop ships.

"The attack force is clear of the Machine!" "Fire!" The twelve Enterprise's all fired their quantum lasers at the Machine. The blue lasers slammed into the Machine blowing it apart. The lasers were directed in such a way as to throw the explosion away from the units on the ground. Minutes later the drop ships docked with the proper ships, with only a few open seats, mostly for

11

The Enterprise could be used as a cruise ship if it needed to. It had a separate cabin for each of its one hundred twenty crew plus several hundred more for the ground attack crews it sometimes held. To keep the crew from going insane on long voyages, a recreational facility was placed in. It had everything from a swimming pool to an open wet bar. Louis was relaxing by the poolside with a glass of his favorite scotch over the rocks. After that last attack, he desperately needed to unwind. His head was swarming with thoughts of the previous assault. He swallowed more of the drink he held in his hand trying to erase those brain cells. Then he saw Elise walk over the edge of the pool with a towel wrapped around her. She removed the towel revealing a dark blue bikini that seemed to have been made for her. The fabric revealed the curves of her large breasts, revealing a long line of cleavage. She obviously knew she had a great body. Louis' eyes widen at the sight of her nearly uncovered body. He shifted in his seat, trying to fix the crotch of his pants. His gaze was transfixed on Elise as she dove gracefully into the water. She swam across the surface with a fluidity and beauty that Louis had never seen before. He kept his eyes on her body as it cut through the water. When she reached the other end she stopped turned around and went back the other way and Louis never let his gaze stray away. Elise pulled herself from the pool, dripping wet. She picked up the towel she had dropped earlier. As she dried off her dark hair she noticed Louis watching her. She stopped for a moment but continued after a few seconds. Again she wrapped herself in the towel. Louis was still hypnotized by her body and he still followed her with his eyes.

Sitting down at the bar located in the same room as the pool, Elise felt refreshed after her quick swim. She loved the water. She loved to just float on the surface for hours on end. The man tending bar was Derek Fisher. She knew him quite well from the amount of time she spent here. "What'll it be?" He said cheerfully. He was the type that always had something to smile about. The ship could be blowing up, and he would still be smiling because he had a good drink in his hands, or for some other reason. "The usual Derek." She said with her sweet, almost musical voice. "Gotcha." He said and quickly began to mix her drink. He placed the glass on the bar top. "Put it on credit as usual?" He asked. Whenever someone purchased something in the recreational facility, they could either pay there, or have it removed from their pay. Having it removed directly from their pay was the most common used since not many people carried money with them on these military expeditions. She reached for the drink and said, "Yep." She took a sip from the glass.

"Ya know, they say that that vodka is the worst alcohol for ya." Derek commented, because she always ordered a vodka martini. "You always say that, and I always tell you that I don't care." She said. "Your only twenty-three and you probably have a worse liver than I do." She wasn't a heavy drinker, it was just that Derek drank far less than she did. "Bite my ass." She said jokingly. She took another sip from her drink and turned around in her stool, using the bar as a backrest. Talking over her shoulder, "I think that guy over there's got a thing for me." "Which one?" Derek said, looking over the small crowd of people. "The one beside the pool." "You mean Lou?" Derek said surprised. "I'd never expect him to even take second thought about a women." "I think he was staring at me when I was swimming." Elise said after taking another sip from the vodka martini she had. "Who wouldn't? I mean you've got a killer body. He's probably got a hard- on the size of a watermelon." Derek said as he cleaned some glasses. Elise chuckled. "I know him a little bit, enough to talk to him. But I don't know him that well." "Well he's a hell of nice guy and one of the smartest I know." Derek said, placing his elbows on the bar top and leaning over it to be able to talk to her better. "Nice guy you say. It might be a good change of pace after my last three boyfriends. They were all dickheads just looking for a hot piece of ass."

"If that's what you're lookin' for, he's the man. He has about as much dickhead in him as I have woman in me." Standing up Elise said, "See ya later Der." She walked over to Louis. "Go get 'em."

Sitting in his seat, Louis was feeling sorry for himself. Another opportunity blown, and what made it worse, she had seen him staring at her, now she probably thought he was a pervert. He quickly downed the remainder of the scotch and placed the glass on the table beside him. The ice bounced of the sides of the glass making tink- tink sounds. He stared at his hands in his lap. He was broken from his chance when he heard someone speak from the chair to his left. Startled he nearly jumped out of his seat. Looking to the chair and Elise was sitting there looking at him with her beautiful eyes. Louis felt his heart accelerate. She had thrown the towel over the back of her chair leaving her bikini exposed. "I said, hi." She said sweetly. Nervously Louis replied, "Hi." His armpits were beginning to sweat. With a smile on her face she said, "I saw you looking at me." Louis felt his face grow red with embarrassment. He was breathing heavier by the second. "You saw?" "Yes." She sipped her drink. "Then I figured, here I am, single, and judging by the way you were looking at my body, you're single. Why not try it out?" Louis was speechless. He never, not in a million years thought this would happen. "Would you like to join me for dinner at my place?" Elise said smiling. This was his chance. Don't blow this, he told himself. "Y-Yes. S-Sure I'll have d-d-dinner with you." Gooood job. Nice first impression. He said to himself sarcastically. She stood up, and sipped more of the concoction she had. "Room two-oh- three, seven o'clock. Don't be late." She said as she walked away, sliding her hand across his chin. Elise finished her drink and returned the empty glass to the bar and left.

Louis nearly exploded in jubilation. He felt like he could float away on a strong breeze. He returned his empty glass to Derek at the bar, aware that he had the biggest smile across his face.