Part 3

Mind or Machine

There's something frightening in the air. And to speak of it, I do not dare. Something from the darkened depths of Hell, something upon which I dare not dwell. -Whispers on the Breeze

The mind is of God's creation. The machine is of perfection. So, I ask, which is mightier? Mind of man or machine of God. -Whispers on the Breeze

What is this life we cling to, where brilliance is told to shoo, and evil kept to ferment? -Whispers on the Breeze

Louis and Elise had two choices to make after the incident on the highway. They could either wait for another crew to retrieve them since the ship that they arrived on would not be able to achieve gravitational escape velocity even if it had a full fuel supply, or they could run away and just disappear. The latter was far more appealing since they could be facing charges of treachery. Once Elise regained the strength to walk, recovering from the rifle shot to her chest took a great deal of her energy, they had retraced their steps back to the craft that they arrived on. There they had told the pilot that the parents had escaped and were heading into the city and that they had to give chase. That meant they had to slip into civilian clothes and take the hoverbikes that were stored on board. Thank God this ship was equipped to handle every contingency that could arise in any situation. It had scuba gear, survival kits, mountain climbing equipment, and several other items. Since the pilots were harmlessly oblivious to the happenings on the road, Louis decided to let them live. Before he and Elise sped off, in a false chase after innocent fugitives that they had no intent of following, Louis told the pilots that the parents had gone east, when they really went west.

On the road, feeling the warm midday air whip around his body, Louis was overcome by a fuzzy feeling. It was not dismaying or imposing. It was the feeling only a free man could feel. It was unadulterated freedom that had planted its seed into Louis' mind and now that he had tasted it, he knew he could not give it up. He looked back at Elise who was following him just off to his left side. Though he could not see her face through the visor on the hoverbike's helmet, he knew she was feeling freedom too. Louis flipped the switch to open the communications link s he could talk to Elise. These hoverbikes had every bell and whistle Louis could imagine. The link opened up with a sharp crackle and a few moments of static. Since the microphone and speaker systems were implanted in the helmets, there was no way that any conversation held across them be not heard. Louis spoke into the microphone positioned an inch in front of his mouth. "How you doing back there?" He was tempted to shout and raise his voice over the sound of the rushing air as they cut through it, but he did not when he remembered that the speakers would emit his voice loud enough to do just that if he spoke normally. "Are you sure ADIT won't be able to find us?" Elise asked worriedly. Louis could not be sure if the worry originated from her inexperience of driving the hoverbike or from the fact that if ADIT caught them now, they would surely be killed. "They will be able to trace us up to the point where we leave this planet." They were going to take the first interplanetary flight off of this rock to Aoru, a small planet on the outskirts of the AGE territory. There, they would purchase false identification and take another interplanetary flight to Earth, outside ADIT's reach. "But once we leave Aoru, under our new names, they will not be able to find us again." "I wish I could be as sure of this as you are." "Don't worry." Louis kept the link open but said nothing more. The macadam roadway sped beneath them as green-leaved trees appeared before him and faded into a blur in his peripheral vision. Everything he saw seemed to be different though he had seen trees before. The trees appeared to have a new attribute to them, something he had never seen until now. If he could take his helmet off and take a breath of the air, it would taste purer than the air after a spring rain. These new sensations were what free men took for granted, but Louis did not because he had spent his entire existence that he could remember under the oppressive control of ADIT. He was merely a servant to them. Freedom poured and twisted around him in the sunlight, the air, the trees, the ground, even the feel of the clothes pressing to his skin. He had never thought that true freedom could feel this exhilarating.

2

The shower Emily took in Ingrid's bathroom felt unbelievable. The water washed away what seemed like literal pounds of dirt from her body. Emily could not believe that Ingrid took the false story Paul had given as true. Paul had told her that they were on a nature walk and lost their way. It was a little shaky, considering that Chris was not with them. However, some quick thinking on the part of Paul removed that hole. He said that Chris was spending the day at a friend's house. Emily redressed and stepped out of the shower, giving Paul his turn to wash away the filth that had gathered on him. She felt guilty about lying to Ingrid then using her shower, but no matter what they had told Ingrid, she would have permitted them in and made them feel at home. Ingrid was more than a good friend, she was a saint. "You hungry?" Ingrid spoke to her from the kitchen. She appeared to be making sandwiches. Sandwiches, Emily's mouth began to water, she hadn't eaten anything since they left the cabin and she was starving. "You're just too nice." Emily said somewhat elated. "Well I expect to be well paid for this." Ingrid said sarcastically with a warm smile on her face. Emily let out a short laugh. "If everybody was like you we wouldn't need any laws." Ingrid could not think of a remark that would defend her modesty, so she returned to making the sandwiches. Helen was sitting on the couch in the far corner of the room. With her hands folded in her lap and her gaze fixed on nothing but space and a blank expression on her face, she seemed distant. This change in personality, she is normally talkative and always moving, worried Emily. So much has happened to them over the past few days. As Emily looked upon her solemn daughter, she was filled with anger. She was determined to make whoever took her son from her pay dearly for what they have done.

Chris was having difficulty concentrating on the lyrics he had running through his mind. His thoughts kept drifting away to his mother. First she was walking along a side of a road. There was a strange man that looked familiar but he could not remember from where. Then again she was sitting in a chair but the strange man was not there, but there was a woman there that also looked familiar. To complicate the matter, the darkness growing inside him was increasing. It was as imposing as it was frightening. It was pressing at the edges of his consciousness, straying his thoughts away. Then for some reason he knew that running lyrics through his head was no longer preventing anything. He ceased the ineffective action immediately. Nearly the same instant he stopped thinking lyrics, his thoughts turned to his mother. A gapping hole opened in his heart wider than the distance that separated him from his mother. He extended his hand above him and grabbed at the air as if he expected his mother's hand to occupy that area. Tears rolled down his face. "Mommy." He cried in a voice racked with desperation and crackling with empty sadness. His hand clenched at air.

3

Max continued his watch on the readout screen as the endless lyrics rolled along. Then Max saw something that caught his attention. Though it was like a white flag against a snowy background he noticed the anomaly. It's hard to hold a candle, in a cold November rain. No.can't.worthless.stop. Mommy. Help. Darkness. NOOO! Still there. Mommy! The kid had finally given up on running lyrics through his head. Now he could learn something about the kid. He might have been able to do so if he knew something about psychology and if he had the foggiest idea of what those songs were about, but he knew nothing about the former or latter. He began to read the contents on the screen as they streamed across the shifting screen. Her hand. Grab it. Not there. Mommy, where are you?

That feeling of incorrectness plagued Herald for hours without cease. It was like claws scratching at his brain just beyond the fray of his thoughts; sandpaper abrading against the soft tissue within his cranium. He tried reading to take his mind from the incessant annoyance, but it was as effective as trying to cut steel with paper. He began to wonder if he was going mad, but insanity did not run in his family. Maybe, he thought, it's a side effect of the machinery I've been working around. But he knew this was not true, he could feel it in his gut. Either way, he knew he could not quell the sensation in his mind.

Sleep did not come easily for Emily that night. When she did finally slip into oblivion, she awoke, covered in sweat, mouth open wide as if in a scream, but no sound came forth. This was not her usual nightmare it was a morbidly distorted variation. She could feel the rumbling of the battle raging just beyond this mountain. She could see the corner where the Crasher was destroyed and a wayward piece of shrapnel tore into her leg. She does not move, though she wants to reach that corner, she is frozen in place. The sky above her is stained blood red so rich in color, that it feels like the skies will purge themselves of the unnatural pigment. She hears a crying in the distance. "Mommy!" It is Chris. His voice is pathetically weak. She spots movement peripherally. A jet black Core Avenger streaks silently only fifty feet above her head. It glides for a few seconds then disappears. "Mommy!" Chris again, closer this time and just as weak voiced. She turns to see him standing at the corner where the shrapnel struck her in reality. She desperately tries to shout to him to get away from there but she cannot draw a breath. The air is thick and heavy. All fell silent around her. Then a solitary explosion ripped through the air. The jettisoned shard of metal that was destined for her made contact with Chris. Erin's entire body felt as if someone gave her a Freon enema.

Chris did not fly backward with the impact. Instead, he was cut in two by the flying projectile. Erin shot into the sitting position, drenched in cold sweat. The final macabre scene of her dream kept replaying itself through her weary mind. Her entire body shook violently. She hugged herself in a vain attempt to soothe the tremors. Paul snored softly beside her. A drop of drool had formed at the lower corner of his lips. He was happily oblivious to her trouble. Erin could not blame him for that, she would gladly take his place right now. The muscle in her right leg was twitching independently of her demands. With each twitch streams of pain shot up her thigh. Though the pain was more of an annoyance than anything, she still wished she had her painkillers. In their haste to leave their house earlier today, they had not thought of grabbing them. She pulled up the cotton shorts that Ingrid lent her and examined the large bruise marking her leg. The mark was about three inches across, though it had lost some of its size, it was quite big. She did not want Paul to know, but every time she utilized that muscle, pulses of pain, some small but some agonizingly hard, shot through her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and eased out, trying not to disturb Paul's sleep, blissful or not. The clock beside the bed indicated that it was forty minutes past one. In six hours they were going to take Chris away from whoever was holding him prisoner or whatever. She thought of the nightmare and what it meant. She did not want to tax her mind too much or she would not be able to return to sleep because her mind would ceaselessly run over the same paths of thought repeatedly. So when she thought of an explanation, she thought no further. She was terrified, no, she was mortified of losing her baby boy. Still shaking from the nightmare, she walked into the bathroom. The tile was cold against her bare feet. With unsteady hands she turned the water on at the sink and splashed her face washing away the sweat. The cool water stung her face. Blindly, she grasped for a towel. Since this was an unfamiliar bathroom, it took her a few moments to locate one. Drying her face off, she returned the towel. She looked at the mirror in front of her. Her eyes were puffy from the broken sleep that has plagued her. "You look like hell." She told her reflection. Leaning against the sink top, she hung her head. When she looked up again. She nearly screamed in surprise. Staggering backwards, she collided with the wall, almost knocking a picture off its moorings. In the mirror, Chris was standing with his eyes closed and one arm extended, as if he was trying to reach out for something, or fend off an attacker. He had a tortured expression on his face. Creases stretched across his brow, his eyes were not merely closed buy clenched tightly together. His entire face was squeezed together. He looked horrified. Seeing her son like this made Erin's heart nearly break since right now there was nothing she could do. Then she blinked, and Chris' image was gone. Though this was not nearly as overwhelmingly intense as the other. She returned to bed though she believed that finding sleep again would be impossible. She dreamed again that night, but it was not the same dream that woke her earlier.

During the entire voyage, the Machine that the commandeered Enterprises were escorting continually distributed defective spacecraft through space. Morris was commanded to regard those craft as an annoyance instead of a threat. Which meant that he was only to destroy them if he had no other standing orders. The faulty fighters were more likely to drift for eternity until a super nova, asteroid, or several other natural occurring space phenomena destroyed them long before an ADIT spacecraft destroyed them. Max pulled the Enterprises out of hyperspace and gradually slowed them into orbit around the destination planet. He activated the communication system and set the receiver to Max's phone's frequency. Waiting for Max to answer, Morris couldn't help but feel proud of himself. Max would surely grant him a higher position in the government that Max would control. "Hello." Max answered. "I'm orbiting the destination planet right now." "Good." "Have the parents arrived yet?" "No." "They sure are taking their time with rescuing their son. Are you sure they'll even come?" "They will, I guarantee it." Max hung up. Morris deactivated the system and removed the headset. All he wanted to do now was sleep because he was exhausted. He hasn't had sleep in almost twenty hours now. He thought about flopping down in the captain's seat, but the body was still there. Instead, he settled down in his seat at the communication's desk. Closing his eyes, he quickly fell asleep.

4

That nagging sensation of wrongness kept grinding against Herald's brain through the entire space jump. Now, he had to wait for the orders to man the drop ships and they could begin their assault on the final Machine. One more and they could finally go home. That thought quelled the vexing feeling in the back of his mind, partially. That order should be coming any time now. Herald shuffled into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it slowly. The cool liquid quenched his thirst and he placed the glass into the sink to wash later. Science could make machines that could move hundreds times faster than the speed of light, but they could not make a machine that could wash dishes faster. That's what four thousand years of war does, Herald told himself. That order should be coming pretty soon. Odd, Herald thought to himself, the Captain usually does not waste this much time doing nothing. This is very odd indeed. In fact, not only the order Herald was awaiting not being announced on the intercom, nothing was being transmitted over the system. It was off. "The intercom's never off." Herald said out loud. "Something has to be wrong with the bridge." He stood and walked across the room to the door. Stepping outside he noticed the hallways were quiet. This was just as odd as the intercom being off, because there was always someone carrying out any of a plethora orders. "What the hell's going on here?" He asks the walls but expected no answer. He decided to check out the bridge to see if anything was awry. The feeling of wrongness returned to him as strong as before if not stronger. He did not see a single person the entire way to the bridge. Which was even more unusual than the intercom being deactivated. Surely he should have seen someone in the halls following a command of some kind or just someone walking around. It was like the entire crew was dead except for him. The only entrance to the bridge was just ahead of him. For security reasons the bridge entrance was in a secluded hallway that required key- codes to bypass the doors blocking the path. Beyond the security doors lay the bridge's entrance. Everyone on board the Enterprises knew the key- codes to unlock the security doors to the bridge. Herald stood before one of the doors. A small number pad was placed about shoulder level to the right of the door. Herald entered the eight-digit number. A word popped up on the screen above the number pad in neon red colors. Denied. "What?" Herald entered the digits again. Denied. "What's going on here?" He stopped to think. When he fell silent, he swore he could hear people talking on the other side of the door. Pressing his ear against the solid steel door he definitely heard voices from the other side. He struck the door with his fist and shouted to whoever was on the other side. "Hey!" His voice echoed back to him. The voices fell silent for a few moments, then one of them spoke. "Who is it?" It was a male but Herald could not place the voice to a name. "Herald Rager, one of the pilots. Who's this?" "Norman Scott, navigator." "What the hell is going on here?" Herald said, placing emphasis on hell. "The communications officer killed the Captain and took over the ship. He's locked everyone that was on the bridge in this little hallway." There was a sense of anger in his voice. A one-man mutiny, Herald thought, that's got to take guts and some serious planning, or just a psycho with a big gun. "He's jammed the door, I can't get in." "And we can't get out." "Do you have any idea where we are?" "I don't have any clue. Nobody does." Now there was a ring of helplessness in his voice, like the sound of a wounded animal being hunted by a pack of wolves. Whoever it was that was commandeering the ship, knew what he was doing. That was the sense of wrongness that grinded against Herald's mind. Now it was gone, and replaced by confusion. Why? That questioned nagged him as ceaselessly monotonous as the feeling of wrongness that plagued him earlier.

The park bench was hard and cold but not as cold as the night was. Gary thought that he would not sleep that well. His hair was still damp from the bath he took a short while ago in the small pond inside the park. Though he wasn't able to clean himself as well as he could in a shower, he still washed away the sweat that had dried on his skin. The entire night, he danced at the edges of sleep and consciousness occasionally falling one way or another, but those never lasted long. The cold sank deep into his feet furthering his discomfort. Then at what he thought was two in the morning, a strong breeze carrying cold air amplified the chill in his feet. Finally, his fatigue, and maybe being numb all over had an impact too, overcame his physical discomfort and he fell asleep.

The morning light stung Gary's eyes. His body was severely cramped from his unorthodox sleeping conditions. When he stood he felt as if his legs were going to buckle under his weight. After a few minutes this sensation subsided and all that remained cramped was his shoulders and neck. His body odor still clung to him like a magnet on steel. The bath he took in the park's pond had not totally cleaned him. His hair now had a noticeable luster from the buildup of natural oil from his scalp. It also itched from a layer of dandruff that generated since his last real bathing. Despite those discrepancies to acceptable hygiene, he still didn't stand out, yet. Another day of this, and his clothes would be filthy with sweat and other forms of grime. The city park was relatively close to the place where he told Paul and Emily to meet him. Just a little over a half-mile. The walk would be relaxing seeming that there was minimal traffic and the sun had not yet brought its heat to the day. With the morning sun to his back, Gary slowly wended his way to the meeting place. The air was fresh with the smell of dew and flowers, carrying from the park. The scents tantalized his nose almost making him forget that he was about to perform the single most dangerous act he could think of, infiltrating an ADIT building armed with only a single pistol and a rifle.

"This is insane." He muttered to himself. Looking at the street signs before crossing a street, Gary knew the meeting place was just around the next corner.

Paul awoke a little after six. He could hear Ingrid in the kitchen, busy with some task or another. He climbed out of the bed and stretched the cramps from his muscles. He walked to the end of the bed, pulled on his clothes from yesterday (that Ingrid cleaned). Grabbing Emily's foot he gently shook the appendage. "Wake up sunshine." He said sarcastically in the middle of a yawn. Emily stirred and kicked out of his grip. With a weary groan Emily lifted herself from the bed. She followed the same motions that Paul had already completed, stretching, walking to the end of the bed, and putting on the clothes that lay there. Since she had a rough night, Emily had difficulty remaining awake through breakfast. For a moment she could not remember how she arrived at Ingrid's, but with flashes of memory she soon recalled. She remembered that she and Paul would need an excuse to leave Helen here while they went to rescue Chris, but her sluggish mind was having difficulty concentrating on the coffee in front of her, let alone devising a believable lie. They would have to leave in about thirty minutes if they were to meet Gary when they said they would. When sleep at last relinquished Emily from its grip, she wanted to fall back asleep and spend the entire day blissfully oblivious. Thoughts of impending death filled her mind. Blood everywhere, so much blood. The walls, the ceiling, and the floor all swathed in crimson stains. The room spins. A distorted body lies in the center of the room. Squinting to try to blind herself from the macabre scene playing in her mind, Emily's hands began to shake violently. Then as suddenly as the vision came, it left. She could see the table, and that everybody was staring at her. Thank God Helen was at the bathroom. Ingrid was the first to speak. "What the hell was that?" A ring of concern echoed in her voice. "I saw something." Emily said. She felt drained, totally exhausted. "What was it?" Paul said, knowing what it might mean. "I saw.a room, blood, there was so much blood." Emily said, hugging herself. She was afraid that reciting the vision would cause another flash of it to appear in her mind. "The entire room was covered in it. And there was a.body laying in the middle of the floor." She was staring at the gap between the tabletop and the seat to her chair. Ingrid had a skeptical look on her face, but she was trying to conceal it, so she wouldn't offend Emily. Paul took Emily's hands in his to reassure her that everything will be alright. But there was nothing he could do or say to her that would soothe her. She knew someone was going to die, but she did not know who. Blood splattered across Emily's field of vision.

"Mommy!" Chris said, almost to tears. His small hand grasped at air trying to clutch a nonexistent hand that he saw. Then he didn't see darkness any longer, there was no darkness brooding inside anymore. He saw a place that was oddly familiar. There was a giant sphere-looking machine in the middle of the room, and a man. A man sat at the desk just to the left of the sphere-thing, staring at a computer screen. The screen cast a bluish glow across the man's face, making him look alien. The man was dark. Not that he was black, his soul, his mind, his heart, things that cannot be seen, only felt, that's what was dark about him. Then Chris realized that the darkness he felt earlier was not darkness inside him, but the darkness of this man. The darkness seemed to pour out of him like water out of a faucet. He wanted to cause pain and suffering. The darkness was overwhelming. Chris could feel it pulling at him, as if it was beckoning him. The darkness pulled at him, though he resisted its magnetic pull, but his will weakened with every passing second. It looked comforting, but.NO! Can't do it. He told himself. But the darkness was as incessant as a droning rainstorm. "Stop! NOO!" He cried. His voice echoed back to him several times. Then he saw blackness again. Horrified that the darkness had consumed him, he began to cry. But he felt something familiar. Not a good familiar, like his mother's hand, not a bad familiar either, it was a curious familiar. He felt weightless, but there was a thick water-like substance underneath him. He remembered this feeling, but faintly. The last he felt this was when he woke up and all he saw was black.

Stop! NOO! The garble of words streaming across the screen before Max was confusing as hell. It was as if the kid was thinking random words. Black. Odd. Familiar. Mom. Ouch. Remember. "What the hell are you thinking about?" Max said. Demanding coherency even though he knew the kid could not hear him, Max pounded his fist on the desk. Max was growing bored watching the endless trail of thoughts scrolling across the screen. This was not as intriguing as it once was. He stood and walked over to the other side of the sensory deprivation chamber. He walked to the spot where one of the doctors killed the other with a heavy glass beaker. Placing his hands on the machinery lining the portion of the wall where the dead doctor struck. Some of the machines were dented or cracked. No blood remained from the incident. The cleaning crew did an excellent job. That disappointed Max. He wanted to see some organic proof that the man was dead, not that he denied the happening; he just wanted to see some blood. He moved to the small corridor where the security guard was found with the neck of the beaker in his neck. No blood here either. In desperate need for excitement, Max walked back to the desk, sat in his chair and began to wonder what it would be like to kill the boy's parents. Wondered what it would be like to see the crimson fluid in their veins spill onto the floor, wondered what the look on their faces would be like when he killed one of them. Would they be surprised, terrified, shocked, angry, what? No longer bored, Max kept those thoughts in his mind as he returned his attention to the boy's thoughts, as boring as they were.

Blood splattered across Emily's field of vision. Horror stricken, a scream caught in her throat. Crimson is all she saw. Blood everywhere. Panicking she shot out of her chair and backed into a wall. She didn't remember standing out of her seat. One moment she was sitting, the next her back was against a wall. Blood stained every orifice. Then it was gone. No blood stained the walls. Only Paul and Ingrid sitting at a table in a kitchen, each with a mixed look of confusion, concern, and shock on their faces. Then Paul shot out of his seat and rushed over to her. "Honey, are you alright?" He said. Then he leaned forward and whispered. "Just follow my lead." Then he winked. "I don't know." Emily said, not sure of what to say. "I think you had some bad food. We better get you to a hospital." Paul said. He grabbed Emily by the arms gently and led her to a chair and sat her down. All the while, Emily tried to act like she wasn't feeling well, which wasn't too hard. "What, what happened?" Ingrid said deeply concerned about her friend. Acting like he was in a panic Paul answered her while he grabbed their shoes. "I think she has some food poisoning. I knew some of that food didn't look right." "Well, get her to the hospital then." Ingrid said. She believed them. Thank God for gullibility. "Can you watch Helen while I take her to the hospital?" Paul said while he helped Emily put her shoes on after he had slipped his own on. "Of course." She ran over to a key rack on the wall behind her and grabbed a set of keys. "Here, take my hover car." She handed the keys to Paul. Emily felt like a child faking sick so they wouldn't have to go to school. After Paul tied her last shoe, she stood and Paul placed his arms around her so it would look like he was helping her walk. Just before they exited the door, Paul looked back and said, "I'll give you a call when we reach the hospital." Then he closed the door behind them before Ingrid could say anything that would spoil their plan. Once outside, Paul let go of Emily and they both sprinted for Ingrid's hover car parked on the side of the road. Emily wrenched open the passenger door and quickly got into the vehicle. It took Paul an extra second or two to run around the front of the hover car and get in the driver's seat. Paul jammed the key in the ignition and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The engine released a sharp whine and the vehicle shot forward. Emily let out a deep sigh of relief once they left Ingrid's block. "Tell me one thing. How were you able to think of all that so quickly?" "I don't know it just hit me." Paul said, relieved that Ingrid didn't see through their lie. "But that was a pretty good job of acting sick." "That wasn't all an act. When I slammed into the wall, I was having another vision." Emily winced when the memory of Ingrid's kitchen smothered in blood. It was so real she swore that the metallic scent of blood hung in the air. "You okay?" Paul said, glancing over at Emily but returning his attention to the road. "Yeah." She lied. She loathed herself for all the lying she's been forced to do over the past day. Emily's blood ran colder than ice. Hugging herself she bent forward and stared at the space between her feet. "Why do I have this.power, this.curse? Why me? Why can't it be someone else?" Paul couldn't think of anything to say to any of her questions. "I don't want it anymore." Emily said with a wavering voice. She blinked back tears burning in her eyes. "It'll be alright." Paul said trying to soothe Emily the best he could. "No, it's not." Emily said, blinking back more tears. "Remember, last month, when you asked if I was having anymore visions or feelings any more?" "Yes. You said no." "That was a lie. I was fooling myself. I was getting feelings everyday. Every goddamned day!" Emily stopped to gather emotions. "But some of them weren't coming true. Not like before the Battle of Cocytus. So I wasn't sure if they would come true or not until they happened." "Wouldn't that mean your.it's decreasing." "You'd think so wouldn't you?" Emily said sarcastically. "But I don't see how that could be bad." "Last week, I got a feeling that Chris would gone soon. I can't explain it." Emily could not restrain her emotions further. Breaking into a sob her speech was broken. "I knew our little boy was going to be taken away and I didn't do anything to prevent it." "Did you know when, where, or anything like that?" Paul said. "No." Emily said through her sobs. "Then what could you done?" Paul said trying to alleviate her anguish. "I don't know." Realizing that he had let up on the accelerator, Paul pushed the engine harder. The speedometer read eighty miles per hour. If a cop happened to cruise by, Paul would have difficulty explaining why he was doing better than three times the speed limit. Reluctantly, he slowed to thirty. "I just don't know." Emily said again in a tortured voice. The tone of her voice made Paul's heart ache like never before. Paul felt like someone had torn every other thought from his mind, leaving only sympathy and compassion. A cold silence fell over them. Icy fingers probed the length of Paul's spine. For the first time in their marriage, Paul felt awkward with Emily. He could not think of a single word that could soothe her, but he doubted that there were any words in the language that could comfort Emily right now. Not being able to do anything bore a hole into Paul's heart. Now the compassion and sympathy that clouded his mind changed into helplessness. He glanced at Emily. She was still hunched over, her head supported on her upturned hands. Paul could not tell what she was feeling because her hair hung down, concealing her face. Releasing the wheel with his right hand, he extended it and stroked her back soothingly. Sometimes, when no words can do justice, a simple action can speak volumes. "Someone is going to die today." Emily spoke but didn't move. "But I don't know who." Her voice was dry and flat. "I'm afraid that it'll be you or me." Her voice wavered a little but she remained in control. Paul pulled over to the side of the road. "Emily, sit up." Paul said pulling gently upwards at her shoulder. Eventually she sat up, but refused to make eye contact with him. He pulled over. He twisted in his seat so he could face Emily as much as possible. Taking her nearest hand within his, he began to talk in as comforting a voice as he could. "Emily, I need you, Chris needs you, and if you don't get a hold of yourself." Paul didn't have to finish his sentence, Emily knew what he was going to say. Emily looked at Paul directly. The look in her eyes was one of sincerity, but she still possessed a painful expression on her face. Leaning across the gear shift, Emily wrapped her arms around Paul and buried her face in his shoulder. Paul hugged her back and kissed her neck lightly. They released from their embrace. Paul pulled back onto the road and continued towards the meeting place.

5

Gary had hidden their weapons behind a dumpster just around the corner. He just prayed to God that a vagrant had not found them and pawned them off for booze money. His stomach was tied in a knot as he reached apprehensively behind the dumpster. Nothing. His heart rate skyrocketed. Frantically he searched the dark space. Panic filled his mind, without the weapons they would have no chance at even taking a single step inside the ADIT base. His hand struck something hard. He froze. He jumped his hand back to where he felt the object. Gripping it, he pulled it out. Letting out a sigh of relief, he saw that he had extracted the pistol. He shoved it in the waist of his pants and reached into the darkness. He found the rifle a short time later and he concealed that in his shirt. He stood, making sure the weapons let no conspicuous bulges in his clothes and sat back on the bench next to a bus stop. Acting as nonchalantly as a man with two weapons concealed in his clothes could, Gary stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. All he could do now was wait. Waiting could be as easy as breathing, but also as difficult as computing calculus without the assistance of a calculator. The wind blew gently carrying the smell of nearby garbage. A stray dog trotted by on the other side of the street. Gary watched the animal lift one of its back legs beside the base of a telephone pool and relieve itself, then it turned around the corner and out of sight. People walked by him almost like a river. Some laughed, some talked, some only walked by. Others stared at him with one of two expressions, pity or disgust. Gary wanted to punch the people that looked at him with the latter. Those were the type of people who never knew heartache. They didn't know the bitter taste of life's waste. They had no clue how ruthless life could be, they didn't have a clue. Black clouds stirred on the horizon, threateningly ominous. But the people lived out their lives as if they did not see the oncoming downpour. Gary longed for that blissful ignorance. A hover car pulled up along side the curb. Gary would have ignored it, except that the passenger door was flung open and Emily stepped out. "Get in." She said quickly, pushing her seat forward so he could clamber into the backseat. With some maneuvering and twisting, he wiggled into the backseat. "Damn two-doors." Gary said once he was fully inside the vehicle. Emily returned the seat into its normal position so she could sit down. Shutting the door, Emily looked back at Gary. She looked despondent. "Did you get the weapons?" There wasn't a hint of any emotion in her voice. Gary said nothing, he just pulled out the pistol and rifle that were concealed under his clothes. Emily took them both and inspected them. "Despite being a little dirty, they both look good." Emily said with the same vitality as before, none. "What do you mean 'they look good'?" Gary asked. "The energy coils can become inoperative if they are stored at low temperatures." Paul answered his question without taking his eyes off the road. "Since they were kept outside all night, the energy coils might have shut down and the gun won't fire." Emily elucidated the problem for Gary. "Oh." Gary said. "Both of their energy levels are up and it seems to me that they're still working, but we really won't know until we try to fire them." "If they don't work, we're up shit creek without a boat." Paul added. "Hell, not only will we not have a boat, we'll have lead weights strapped to our feet." Emily said sarcastically, but her voice was still emotionless.

Herald was beginning to worry about the people locked inside the corridor. They've been in there for over fifteen hours and probably haven't had any food, water, or bathroom visits in seventeen, maybe longer in some cases. He had tried every measure he could think of to open the door, but all of them failed. Also, he had a feeling that the situation had become more urgent than what it once was. There was no logical explanation for his feeling, but he felt it in his gut that he needed to get those people out of there soon. He slumped against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. The steel beneath him was cold. Pangs of hunger shook his stomach violently, he hadn't eaten in almost eleven hours now. If hunger was attacking him this hard already, he could only imagine what the people trapped in the corridor felt. Standing, he surveyed the situation in his mind. The door was locked, the terminal to open the door was frozen, and the ships computer was under the complete control of the communications officer. There was no way to open this door. He said to himself. He felt utterly hopeless. With a rush of rage, he kicked the panel next to the door. Either he struck it harder than he thought or the panel was only hanging there. Because it issued a harsh clang and flew out of its moorings. Herald watched the piece of panel skip across the floor and stall against the wall. He turned his attention to the section of wall void of panel. Something hit him. He knew this was important, but he didn't know how. He stared at the tubes, gears, and several dozen other items in the exposed cavity. Crouching down in front of it, he examined the gears more closely. There was three that he could see, a small one that was connected by a metallic band to something that he could not see, a larger one whose teeth were interlocked into the small gear, and an even larger gear that was connected to the medium sized gear on the top and to a track on the underside. Then he knew what it was, this was the system that moved the door! "If I could only somehow knock that big gear out of the track, the door should open." He mumbled under his breath. Then he remembered the lock. "Shit." His plan wouldn't work. Even if he was able to remove the gear from its place, the lock would still hold the door shut. He tried to think of where the lock would be located. Remembering that when the doors closed a notch in the door slid into the doorjamb. Logic would say that the lock would be there. Shuffling to the other side of the door, he stood and took a guess at where the notch was. When he made his decision, he took a step back, and kicked as hard as he could at the panel. A cacophonous crash rang through the hallway, but the panel held fast. Herald kicked again, a dent formed in the panel causing it to buckle around the edges, but still the panel didn't fall. Again, nothing. Frustration clouded his thoughts, and he kicked again. The panel popped out of its spot and fell to the floor with a clatter. Herald looked into the new hole. There was a large steel box just inside the cavity. This was the locking system, there was no doubt in his mind. He leaned close to the box to get a better look at it. From what he could see, there was no way to open it. But he could not see the other side. He had to remove the outer casing to be able to manually remove the lock. He looked around for something he could use as a club or lever to break open the steel casing. The entire hallway was empty other than the disheveled panels and those would be too flimsy for Herald's needs. Then he thought he might be able to shoot through the casing with his laser pistol issued to him. But that was dangerous. The shot might ricochet off the steel and who knows where it will go from there, or the shot could go straight through the casing and hit somebody on the other side, or it could just stop dead in the casing causing little or no damage. After some deliberation, he figured the risk was worth taking considering he felt he needed to get those people out soon. He sprinted for his cabin.

Getting a flight off of the planet was no real problem for Elise or Louis, because ADIT supplied their teams for every possible contingency. One of them included the need for money, so the team was given some money to use if the situation deemed necessary. Louis and Elise used that to buy themselves tickets on the next shuttle off the planet, they didn't care where they were going as long as it was away from ADIT. Terminally, however, they would have to leave the Arm's territory for Earth. The interplanetary flight was several hours long, but they were only another hour from landing. The transport ships were not as fast as the cruisers and capital ships Louis was used to, making him feel that they had traveled farther than they actually did. He looked over his shoulder and watched Elise sleep. He knew he should have slept too, but he could not. Worry cluttered his thoughts. Worry of ADIT, and what they would do to them if they caught them. Even though ADIT would not be expecting a turn of events such as this one, and would not look for them for at least another day. By that time, he expected to be out of the Arm territory and out of their reach. Even though they were a secret organization, they could not touch the Earth, simply because the government watched the planet too closely. Anyway, they were only two people, ADIT could replace them just as easily as a broken pane of glass is replaced. ADIT would probably only search for them moderately at best. Beyond his portside window, stars flickered against the eternal blackness. Yesterday those beacons appeared desolate. But now they shone with a warm light, the light of hope. Elise murmured something in her sleep and shifted her position. She rested her head against his shoulder and let her hand fall onto his chest. Louis wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. An elderly woman sitting in the seat next to Elise glanced over at them. A warm smile formed on her lips. Louis returned it with a smile of his own. She looked away and returned to whatever thoughts that ran through her mind before. Combing Elise's hair through his fingers, Louis didn't want this flight to end. He wished he could spend the rest of eternity like this.

Herald returned with his gun. Stepping as close to the door as he could, he shouted to the people beyond the door. "I think I know a way to get you out of there! I want everybody to get as low as you can and cover your faces!" Giving them the time they needed to follow his directions, Herald walked back about ten feet. Not wanting to have to take two shots, he carefully aimed for the steel box. He looked away, just in case metal was thrown at him. Hesitantly, he pulled the trigger. The weapon fired with a shriek of super-charged electrons. Then a sound similar to metal scraping against metal reverberated through the hall. Inside the isolated hallway, screams echoed sharply in Herald's ears. He ran up to the door, to see where his shot made contact. It tore a gaping hole in the side of the metal box. Not a perfect shot, but it would do. The box hung loosely on the doorframe, but it was still too firmly attached for him to pull it off with his hands. The smell of smoldering metal wafted across Herald's nose. Backing up, he kicked the ravaged metal box. With a hard clang, the box fell from its moorings. The lock was exposed. Examining the lock, Herald's sense of urgency disappeared altogether. He saw a piece of heavy metal that ran horizontally into the notch in the door. He grabbed it and pulled downward, but the task was not easy. At first, the metal beam did not budge. But after several hard yanks, the beam slid. Only a few inches, but it was progress. He pulled harder. Then the levee broke. The obtrusive piece of metal suddenly pulled entirely out of the slot and Herald nearly fell over. Throwing the bar away, Herald was filled with satisfaction. Placing his hands firmly on the door, he slowly worked the door open a crack. Slipping his hands into the crevice, he threw the door wide. Inside the closure, fifteen people laid on their stomachs. Not a one of them moving. Then they realized the door was open, they exploded with life. All of them sprinted, or as close as people who haven't eaten in fifteen hours could, for the door. Herald had to spin to the side to avoid being trampled. Once outside, they came to a stop and thanked Herald. "Thank you." "Bless your soul." "Thank God." "You're a good man." And several others. He had never been hugged and kissed so much in such a small timeframe before. The people all went to the cafeteria or the bathroom since they hadn't gone to either for quite a while. Herald didn't go to the cafeteria or the bathroom, instead he walked to the door leading to the bridge. It was locked, just as he thought it would be. He began to pound on the door. "Hey! Who's in there?!" No response. Just as he thought. There was no easy way to open this door like there was the last one. The door to the bridge had multiple locking mechanisms and several of them interlocked to make it even stronger. It would take him hours to manually unlock this door even if he had the right equipment, which he didn't. It didn't matter if he could onto the bridge or not. Because the people he rescued said that he had a big gun, probably fully automatic. If he entered the man on the bridge would blow him away easily. If he could not stop this madman, Herald was going to make sure he couldn't hurt anybody else.

"Ok, Gary. Where is this facility?" Emily said with a little more emotion in her voice than before, but it wasn't much. "We'll need to get on an interplanetary flight to get there." He said. He was about to tell them where the nearest spaceport was but Emily interrupted him before he could say anything. "What?! You mean we have to go to another planet! How? We don't have any money, and we have no way to get any!" Now she had emotion in her voice. "Hang on a minute." Gary said trying to calm Emily down. "Before I came to this planet, I knew this would happen. So I bought three open date tickets through the spaceport here." Emily let out a sigh of relief as her sudden outburst was cooled. "Which spaceport is it?" Paul said from the driver's seat. "Aero Planet." Gary said. "Where do we go?" "Right. Then just drive, it should be on the left side." Gary said after looking around, finding his bearings. Nobody spoke in the car the entire way to the spaceport, a total of ten minutes. The air was thick enough that Emily swore that she could have cut it, and served it as a sandwich. She had difficulty drawing a breath. Several times during the ride, she became dizzy and light-headed. Trying not to alarm Paul, she looked out the passenger window to hide her face from him. She was overcome by the feeling of death. She couldn't describe it, she just knew what it was. Like the way animals know an earthquake is going to happen. The air grew thicker. Breathing became harder. Thicker still. It was like breathing glue. "Emily." She heard Paul's voice calling to her. It sounded like he was talking through water. "Emily." His voice sounded more urgent this time. "Emily." Suddenly the air returned to its normal viscosity and she drew a sharp and ragged breath. The feeling of death was gone. "What's wrong?" He asked worriedly. Winded, Emily could not speak. Paul had his hand gently rested on her shoulder. Obviously, he was shaking her and she didn't even realize it. "Are you okay?" Emily nodded her head in a lie and hoped that Paul would believe it. More lying. When am I going to stop? She asked herself. It didn't look like he believed her but he dropped the subject. Emily looked out the windshield. They had arrived at the spaceport, but she wasn't sure how long they had been sitting here. A few seconds, a few minutes, she couldn't tell. Probably only from the time Paul called to her. That gave her some comfort that not too much precious time was waste, but not much. Paul opened his door and stepped out, Emily did the same. Gary climbed out of the back seat with considerably more effort than it took him to climb in. A cold wind struck Emily as she stepped free of the car. It felt ominous. The entrance to the spaceport loomed five feet over their heads. Walking to the door, it slid open silently as if it was floating on a pocket of air. Stepping across the threshold the door shut as silently as it opened.

The air conditioned atmosphere tasted dry and smelled faintly of disinfectant. If they had to wait too long, Emily would become sick to her stomach from the odor and dryness of the air. She already felt queasy. She knew she would develop a headache too if they lingered too long. There wasn't much business this early in the morning, but about twenty or so people waiting for their flight. They walked across the giant room to the ticket counter. A man dressed in a red vest and black pants stood on the other side of the desk. A computer monitor was placed just off to the right of him. He looked at Gary oddly and said, "How may I help you?" Gary stepped forward. "I have three open date tickets registered under Gary Hawthorne." "Okay, sir." The man said. His fingers flew across the keyboard bringing up the necessary information. "I'll need to see some ID." "Of course." Gary said, reaching into his pocket. Emily swore she heard something tear in his clothes. Gary extracted a somewhat soiled wallet. Opening it he pulled out his ID card. It was only about two by three inches and was covered in a hard clear plastic-like substance. The man in the red vest took it and examined the numbers on the screen to see if they matched the ones on the screen. Once he determined Gary was who claimed he was, he returned Gary's ID to him and struck more keys on his keyboard permitted them through. There was no actual physical tickets exchanged, everything was done electronically. "You're flight leaves in forty-three minutes." The man said with a phony smile. "Thank you." Gary said turning away and walking to the other side of the terminal. They sat on the bench closest to the gate through which they would have to leave. Then Emily remembered the weapons. Nudging Paul, she leaned closer to him so she would only have to whisper. "Did you get the guns?" Paul simply nodded and pointed to the vaguely noticeable bulge in Gary's jacket. "How will we get them past security?" "Gary was telling me about that during the drive here." What?! Emily thought. I must have been out of it longer than I thought. That thought scared Emily a little. The fact that she had completely lost all consciousness and didn't even realize it. "This place doesn't need it. On the doors to the spacecraft, they have implanted an small EMP device." Paul didn't need to explain any further, Emily knew what an EMP device did to electronics. Since all weapons have at least one electronic piece in them, the ploy never failed. It deactivated the weapons and rendered them useless. Paul walked over to the payphone on the other side of the terminal to call Ingrid and tell her that they'll have to stay at the hospital awhile and to keep Helen calm. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. Every time Emily glanced at the clock on the wall above the entrance, she expected it to read a few minutes before they departed, but in fact only five minutes had drifted by since the last time she looked. Between the dryness and odor in the air, Emily had developed a queasiness in her stomach. She felt like she was going to vomit any minute. On top of that, a small headache flared just behind her left eye. She could feel it growing worse by the minute. She needed to get out of here, now. Their flight was called. Thank God. She thought. They all stood up and walked to the gate through which their flight will be leaving.

6

Using a communication device along one of the walls, Herald was able to program the device to send his message everywhere on the ship, except for the area around the bridge. "Attention everybody." Herald was not used to this. "Our ship has been commandeered by a madman. This is not a joke. I suggest that everybody leave the ship and go to the nearest star base. I repeat, this is not a joke. The ship has been taken over by a madman. It would be in your best interest to leave the ship as soon as possible." He cut off the communication and prayed it would be enough. He sprinted for the hanger. If his plan worked, that place would become a madhouse with everybody fighting for spacecraft. He wasn't going to wait till the end and make sure everybody was off the ship, he wasn't that noble or stupid. The hanger was huge, hundreds of ships lined the floor and several more were on the upper level. A few dozen people were already there, some were panicking, others were getting into their own spacecraft. Herald knew which ship he wanted. The Raven. A fighter with an abnormally long range. He quickly found the beast. It was very large and consequentially, it was slow. But where Herald was going, he didn't need speed. Herald jumped in the cockpit and closed the hatch. He slipped the helmet on out of habit and punched in the activation code. The ship hummed to life. He pulled out of the hanger and programmed the hyperspace computer for his destination. The engines primed themselves as they prepared for the jump. At the last second, Herald looked behind him and saw all of the Enterprises guiding a large thing while they orbited an unfamiliar planet.

"What the hell?" He said confused. He was about to kill the hyperspace jump, but it activated just as he turned back around.

The flight was arduous. Emily kept thinking that when they arrived it would be too late. Several times on the flight, she broke out into cold sweats and kept feeling claustrophobic. When the flight was over, Emily was never more relieved. "Where is this facility now?" Paul demanded as the three of them stood outside the spaceport. "It's not too far from here. It's a few miles over that mountain." Gary pointed to a forested mountain beyond the city. "How do you expect us to travel that far? We're certainly not walking that far." Paul said adamantly. "I had this all planned out before I even went to Deneb. I have a hover car hidden in an alley not too far from here. We'll use that to get to the facility and back." "Then what do we if get back?" "I have a flight lined up on a small charter." Gary led them around a few corners to the hover car he said he had hidden.

"Wait here. I'll go get the car and bring it out here." Gary disappeared into the alley. The planet was strange. Though it was ecologically similar to Deneb, there was something alien about this place. She could feel the difference at the edges of her senses but could not discern what it was. Just then Gary pulled out of the alley with the hover car. Emily and Paul climbed in the backseat. They drove for a minute or two in silence. "You still haven't told us why they took Chris." Emily spoke first. "And every time you tried we got interrupted. Tell us now." "Okay." Gary took a deep breath. "Ten years ago, on the planet Salak, a Core energy flux was spotted by a recon squad. A small attack squad was formed and dispatched to the planet. The energy flux that was spotted was first thought to be a Core base. But there was no defenses or units in the area, just the energy flux. A Gemini capital ship was sent there to destroy the source of the flux. Once it was destroyed, a board of inquiry was sent there to find the cause of the flux. What they found was kept secret. They found a self-sufficient production facility that could defend itself for every kind of assault, they were called Machines. I don't know all the details but I do know that recently that there has been an explosion of concern over the destruction of these Machines. Somehow, your boy, Chris knows the locations of the Machines." "But how did the government learn that he knew. They can't know what he's thinking." Paul said. "His story 'Finding Eden' contains the locations of the Machines in the text. Don't ask me how they made the connection, that's where this story gets fuzzy. But they couldn't get exact locations of the Machines with the story. So they kidnapped your son to see if he knew where they were, but I couldn't help but think there was something else behind it. They made you think he was dead so they could do anything they wanted to him without fear of getting caught." "Oh, Jesus." Paul muttered. That explains the visions of Chris I've been having. Emily thought to herself. Apparently extra sensory perception is inheritable, because her little boy has the "gift," or "curse." She prayed, for his sake, that he learns to control it so he doesn't have to know the anguish she has known, he could just turn off the feelings. "Once they learned where the Machines were, they sent out an army to destroy them. I don't know how many are destroyed or anything I just know they're doing it." "What are they going to do with him once the Machines are destroyed?" Emily asked with a hint of worry in her voice. "I don't know exactly. But I think they may." Gary cut his voice off right there, not daring to speak the next word. Tears welled in Emily's eyes, but she blinked them back. An eerie silence fell over the car. Like the silence in a graveyard at midnight. The type of silence that made your skin crawl. "What did you mean when you said that you thought there was something else behind it?" Paul asked, sitting on the edge of his seat. "It just feels like there's something else behind this. It just doesn't make any damn sense. Kidnapping is one thing, they have no problem with kidnapping. But psychological extortion of a child is something completely different. We are only human, and most people would have trouble doing that to another human being. It just seems logical that they would use Chris for something more." There was a touch of guilt hidden in Gary's voice, like he was trying to suppress it but the emotion was getting the better of him. Green leaved trees passed on either side of them as they left the city. Emily grew cold. She hugged herself to try and dispel the chill from her body, but she only grew colder. At first she thought the change in temperature was only because they were ascending a mountain, but when she saw that neither Paul or Gary were affected by the chill that plagued her, she knew it had to be her. Then she felt something dark. She couldn't place the feeling it was just.dark. She thought it would pass, but the closer they drew to the facility, the colder she became. Something morbid lay behind that darkness, it was faint, but she could feel it. Though she was cold, sweat poured from her. Her arms were seized by shivers. She felt a warm spot form on her right shoulder. Glancing over that shoulder she saw that Paul had placed a hand on her, his eyes showed that he was concerned more than deeply. He was concerned to the very essence of his soul. Looking in the rearview mirror, Emily saw a face that was only vaguely familiar. She was stark white. She could clearly see the individual drops of sweat as they ran down her face. Her cheek bones were sharp looking. Her hair clung to the sides of her face. She looked far older and far less attractive. She quickly deterred her eyes from the mirror. The darkness became stronger, almost unbearable. She could feel it pressing against her thoughts. Looking at Paul once more, she saw his lips move, but she heard nothing. It looked like he was saying, 'Are you okay?' Then he looked towards Gary and said something more, but again, no sounds caressed her ears. Her heart accelerated sharply. It hammered against her ribs. More sweat poured from her. The hover car stopped suddenly. She knew she wasn't deaf, because she heard the blood pumping through the veins in her ears. But there was some other noise she could not place. Somehow she knew it was the sound of the darkness. Somehow, deep down, in the primitive recesses of her memory, she knew. The darkness pressed harder, it was like being in a vise. She began to scream a silent scream under the tremendous force pressing against her mind. Her heart hammered harder, it felt like it was smashing against her chest. Then she saw an image of Chris. The pressure on her mind ceased, and her hearing returned completely in a huge rush. Paul was shaking her shouting her name. She looked at him. He ceased. He hugged her fiercely. She hugged back, seeking support. "What's wrong?!" Gary asked. "I don't know. I just felt so cold, and there was a darkness. I don't know what it was, but I know it's near Chris." She said quickly. "Are you okay? You had me worried." Paul said. "I'm fine." Then she asked herself, am I lying? Quickly she returned the answer, no. It felt good not to lie.

Through the suffocating darkness, Chris saw his mother. Exploding in jubilation, he said over and over in his mind, 'she's coming, she's coming.' His mommy was coming to bring him home. Home. He longed to see his room again, to lay in his bed, to play with his toys. 'She's coming.' Then he remembered the dark man outside was watching his thoughts somehow. In his excitement he had forgotten. Now, from his mistake, he would know that his mother was coming and he could do something to stop her. 'He'll kill her.' Where did that come from? Who said that? It sounded like me, but I know I didn't say that. Chris thought. Questions rattled through his mind. But he knew the answers to them all, he just couldn't accept them. Sweat poured out of his pores as the flames panic were fanned by every thought that ran through his mind.

Max smiled wickedly. "So they're finally coming." He said to himself out loud. Standing up he walked to the far side of the room. A small metallic door lay flush in the wall. He pressed his right thumb to a small pad on the door's locking mechanism. A green light flashed as the lock was disengaged. Opening the door, Max saw an array of weaponry residing within. The closet held everything from pistols to assault rifles. Since he did not have the knowledge to operate the rifles or machine guns properly, he extracted a pair of pistols. He tucked one in his pants beneath the small of his back and kept the other in his hand. He was ready for when the parents arrived.

Chris didn't know what happened, one second he's staring into blackness, the next he's watching a man next to a computer. It was the dark man again. The darkness flowing from him was strong, but not overwhelming like it once was. Then the dark man moved. But the darkness that he had felt earlier didn't move with him. Instead it kept flowing from the chair the dark man sat in. How could a chair pulse with that much darkness? Then Chris realized that it was not the dark man that possessed the darkness he felt, it was something else. The dark man had his own powerful blackness, but it was not ravaging as the other source. What ever it was, it lay beyond the wall, but Chris could not tell what it was, or he was too afraid to look.

7

"Did you plan out how we would actually break into this facility?" Paul asked from the backseat. A giant chain link fence barred their path. It seemed to go on forever. "Not exactly." Gary said as he watched the man from the guard tower talk on the phone, probably with one of his superiors about what he should do with them. "Great." Emily said sarcastically. So close yet so far.

"You want me to do what?" The guard on the other end said, apparently surprised at the command. "I want you to let them in." Max said. He wanted the parents to make it into the lab. "Whatever you say sir." The guard disconnected the line.

Emily watched as the guard walked up to the driver's window and rapped on the glass for Gary to open it. With some perceptible reluctance, Gary opened the window. "Doctor," The guard said. "You can pass." Then he walked away. Gary stared out the window in absolute confusion. Rolling up the window, the gate was opened and Gary proceeded through. "What the fuck?" He said. "It shouldn't have been that easy! I have clearance to enter, but I can't just drag two people in with me when I feel like it!" He said punching the dashboard. "Something's wrong. You're right it shouldn't have been that easy, at the least we should have been asked for identification." Emily said. "I don't like this. They're just letting us get through. That's the only reason I can think of." "If they're letting us get through, that means they know we're coming." Paul said as worry ran through his fading voice. Emily remembered the visions of blood and murder she saw this morning. She knew the answer, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. She told herself, sometimes the visions are wrong. But this one felt so real. Stop it. They're going to kill you and Paul. No, it could be wrong. It felt real. Stop. A macadam driveway wound a path around and over hills for what looked like eternity. The facility Gary spoke of was nowhere in sight. Emily sat back in her seat and tried to relax, but she could not untie the knots in her stomach. Something horrible was waiting for them, she could feel it. They're going to kill you. Turn around. No. We can't turn around. I want my boy back. Attempting to silence her inner conflict, she gazed out the window. A thick layer of frost had formed on the blades of grass. During all of her years of military service, her thirty years of life, she had never seen snow. She knew the prospect of seeing the floating flakes falling should have been exciting, but her thoughts were too occupied to find even the slightest joy in something as trivial as snow. The sky was somber gray. Not a single ray of light broke through the clouds to shine on them. The wind moaned as it pressed against the windows. "The installation is coming up here." Gary said from the front seat. Paul leaned forward to get a better view through the windshield. "Where is it?" "Right there at the foot of that mountain." Gary pointed at a small steel structure butting against the rocky face of a mountainside. "It looks too small to be a military facility." "Most of it is built inside the mountain." "Oh." Paul said then he sat back against his seat. Looking at Emily, he placed his hand on her knee reassuringly. He wondered if she was alright. She was abnormally quiet. No one spoke another word until they came to another gate much like the first, but this one was twice as high and was made of concrete. Unlike the first gate, this didn't have a guard at the entrance. It only had a sheltered computer terminal that was elevated so that the driver could reach it without stepping out of their car. "How do we get in?" Paul asked. "I have to put a code and a fingerprint to this computer, and if the system in the facility says their acceptable, the gate will open." Gary answered with a touch of futility in his voice. "So if your codes don't work, we're fucked." Emily said. Paul looked at her a little shocked at her choice in words. "Not necessarily. I broke out of this place. There's a place in the wall where it's a little easier to get over then here. If the codes don't work, we'll get in there." "Why don't we just do that then?" "Because, if we go in there it will look like we're breaking in. If we enter this way, it will look like I've captured you." "Are you sure they'll buy that?" "Yes, because back on the highway, when we were ambushed, they didn't want to kill us, if they did, they would have destroyed the car instead of just disabling it." Gary rolled down his window to gain access to the computer terminal. Something didn't feel right. Something was wrong. "Wait!" Emily shouted just as Gary's hand reached the terminal. "It can't be this easy, they know we're coming. If we enter here, they'll kill us." Gary looked at her puzzled. "Are you sure?" Paul asked. "I don't know. But there's something wrong here." Emily was breathing quickly and shallowly. Explosions flashed before her eyes. "We can't enter here." "Ok." Gary said exasperatedly. He pulled away from the gate and began to slowly drive along the concrete wall. "The place I was talking about is on the other side of the wall. It will take us some time to drive that far."

Max picked up his phone and struck several numbers. When the other side answered he said, "Have they come through yet?" "No, not yet." "Dammit, they should have arrived by now." Max said, punching the table. "This oncoming storm is playing hell with our electronics. We can't get a clear view on the other side of the wall with any of the cameras. It looks pretty nasty. I think it would be better if we came in, I don't think they'll be coming through the main gate." "Alright, bring your men in. Station yourselves at the main entrance. I want to know immediately if you find them. Don't kill the parents, I want them alive." Max disconnected. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pulsing headache in his skull. Why do people always want to do things the hard way?

First the wind came. Gently at first, but it quickly grew in intensity. Thick branches were wiped around as if they were merely twigs. It pressed against the hover car, making it nearly impossible to drive. But Gary managed. The moaning wind felt like an omen. A white flake struck the windshield. It melted quickly and hung on the glass. Just like the wind, it rapidly gained force. In less then a minute the downy flakes were coming down noticeably. In two, it began to gather on the ground. White was everywhere, on the ground, in the trees, and in front of them. Visibility was fading with each passing second. At first, Emily surprised herself when she was a little giddy when she saw the first snowflake. But when the world was transformed to white, and she began to feel the chill of the blizzard seeping into her skin, her frivolity disappeared. From never seeing snow before, to being in the heart of a blizzard, was startling. In the front seat, Gary was leaning forward, straining to see what was ahead of them. Several times he almost collided with a tree or scraped against the wall, but he quickly adjusted and they missed sometimes by a margin too close for comfort. Paul was beginning to feel the incessant chill that was seeping into the hover car through the small cracks in the doors and windows. The cold was something they were unprepared for. They were dressed for a autumn afternoon with long sleeved shirts and jeans. The hover car lurched to a stop. "We're here." Gary said. "Once we get outside, we'll have to get over that wall and into the facility as fast as possible, so I'll tell you what you need to do." He had turned around to face them. "There's a pine tree that sits close to the wall, we'll have to climb that, then once we're high enough, transfer onto the top of the wall. On the other side of the wall, about fifty feet further ahead, follow a set of maintenance stairs to the ground. We should be able to see the facility from there. I'll be the first one over so I'll lead you in. We'll have to get this done quick, so when I say so, throw open your doors and follow me. We can't afford to waste time. Unless you want to become a human-Popsicle." Emily felt her stomach tie around a bulge of nausea. She grabbed the handle on her door and waited. She saw Gary shift in his seat. An ominous look was on his face. Gary took both the guns and stuffed them under his shirt to try and protect them from the freezing temperatures. "Now!" Gary said, as he threw his door open. Paul and Emily followed suit and flung wide their doors. The icy air bit into Emily as she leapt from the car. She almost cried out in surprise, but the wind stole her breath away. It was so cold. The biting wind stung her exposed flesh. Trying to warm up, she hugged herself, but it didn't do too much. The flakes of snow, almost stung when they struck her. The wind howled ferociously. Her fingers were growing numb. "Emily!" She heard her name being called out. It sounded like it was miles away. She looked at the source of the noise, Paul stood no more than four feet from her. His face was red from the cold. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her along towards Gary. Everything was freezing. Everything was white. Gary was standing by a tower of snow. He was shouting something, but they were too far away to hear. The snow was only a few inches deep, not enough to pour into their shoes. It was all so cold. Standing just three feet from Gary, he had to talk loudly to be heard over the unrelenting wind. "We have to climb this tree here. It's pretty easy, just don't loose your footing." He pointed to the tower of snow behind him. Apparently, the storm had blanketed the trunk of the tree with a layer of powder. Gary turned and grabbed a low hanging branch. He pulled himself onto the branch, almost loosing his grip. Then he moved to the trunk of the tree, where the branches would be strongest, and ascended into the foray of needles. Emily followed, then Paul. They knew they had to get inside quickly, but Emily was slowed from a paranoia of loosing her grip, or slipping on the slicked surface and falling to a painful impact. Every time she grabbed a branch, the snow that had collected on its rough surface chilled her hands even more. The icy chill began to seep into her fingers, making them harder to move. The constant pain in her leg, changed from a fire to a dull ache, then to a pulsing numbness. At least the cold was good for one thing. But that scared her a little. If that pain was dulled so soon, how much longer can I last out here? That question rattled through her mind. Gary was close to making the transfer onto the concrete wall. Paul was keeping pace with her, trying not to urge her faster. She was about twelve feet from the ground. Stepping onto another branch, she slipped. Panic shot through her like a knife. Quickly she latched on to the nearest branch to her. Her heart was beating so hard, she thought her ribs would break. Tentatively, she stood up and grabbed the branch above her. Gary was now on top of the wall. The frigid air gusted, shaking the tree. Emily grabbed tighter to the branch she was on. She waited for the gust to subside before continuing her climb. The top of the concrete wall stood a mere four feet from her. But that might as well have been a mile wide chasm. The end of the branch was brushing against the wall, but Emily knew that skinny twig would never hold her weight. She would have to jump from here. The top of the wall was wide enough to remove the danger of jumping too far. She jumped. A sudden gust of wind caught her in mid-air. She seemed to float for a split second. Striking the top of the wall, she impacted awkwardly and landed on her left arm. Some snow flew down her shirt and she gasped in surprise. Gary helped her to her feet just as Paul jumped and landed on the wall. Gary waved his arm as if to say, this way. He turned and walked carefully on the snow covered concrete. On top of the wall, it was far colder than on the ground. With no obstructions to block the uncaring wind, it drove its frozen hands into them with powerful force. Emily's face had gone completely numb, as was the rest of her body. The snow stung her eyes. And the wind bit. The facility was a gray silhouette in the distance. Almost entirely shielded by the flying snow, Emily could not make out its shape. Gary pointed out the steps. They descended rather steeply, but there was a handrail to either side. A small canopy over the stairs had kept most of the snow off them, but there was still a fine layer of the white powder covering the steps. "Don't touch the handrails. Your hand will stick to the metal." Gary shouted over the storm. Well there goes that. Emily thought. Now they had to climb down the stairs without assistance. Gary went down first.

Max sat in his chair watching the screen. But now it wasn't flowing with the boys thoughts. It hadn't moved in quite some time. At first Max thought it was a system error. But after he checked the program and saw that it was still active, he crossed that idea out. Then he thought the boy might have died under the stress of the isolation chamber, but the monitors were still registering life signs. Then he thought he might be dreaming. But he that would not make the thinking stop in the boys head. He would still be thinking something. He could not figure it out. Then one phrase popped on the screen. No more.

8

Despite the protection the canopy provided, the stairs still had a thin layer of white powder on them. The wind was all but quieted on the flight of stairs, making it feel warmer. Not much, but warmer nonetheless. Without the rail to give her balance, Emily thought she was going to fall. But she never did. At the bottom of the steps, the canopy continued for an extra four feet. Gary rubbed his hands together and blew into them. "That gray blob out there is the rear entrance. The security won't be as high there. Run as fast as you can it's going to be damn cold out there since it's just an open field." Emily wanted to say something to show that she understood, but her cold had stolen her voice. So she just nodded. Gary turned and took off, giving no signal that he was going. Emily and Paul followed quickly behind. Immediately Emily knew that it was not going to be easy. The frigid wind slammed into her tossing her hair around her face. Her feet sank five inches into the snow. The icy substance fell into her shoes. Her legs churned, kicking up plumes of white in her wake. The wind gusted. Every step she took, more snow fell into her shoes. Her strength faded quickly. Her legs began to burn. The snow pelted her forcefully. The wind moaned laden with a stream of snow. Slowly the gray blob came into focus. Then suddenly, she was standing right in front of it. The structure came up so fast, Emily almost ran into it, but she was able to stop. She looked around, expecting to see Gary and Paul already standing there, but when she looked back into the storm, she saw to figures running towards her. When she saw them she thought they had fallen, because they were almost covered in snow. But when she looked at her own clothes, she knew that wasn't the case. Snow clung to her shirt and jeans. Emily looked at the door standing between them and Chris, her heart fell to her feet. A ten foot steel frame held a double swinging door in place. She pushed on it. It didn't even budge. She saw no handles on their side so she figured it had to swing inward. Gary walked up beside her. "It's a sliding door." He shouted over the wind. "Well how do we get it open?" Emily said, raising her voice as well. "There's no direct way to get in." Gary said. "I'll have to cross some wires in the control box over there to open the door." Emily felt like punching Gary in the face. They had come this far, and all of their hopes rested on if he can hot wire a door. Gary stepped to the side and located the control box. He opened it after some physical persuasion. The door slid open. Startled, Emily jumped to the side away from the widening gap. "What the hell?!" Gary said. "I didn't do even do anything!" "They must know we're here." Paul said. "If they knew we were here, they would have been all over us like flies on dog shit already." "Well then what opened the door?" Emily said. "I don't know, but I'm not going to turn down an invitation like this." Paul said. "Give me the shotgun." He said to Gary. Gary reached into his shirt and extracted the weapon and handed it to Paul. "Let's just hope that this thing still works." "Give me the pistol." Emily said. Gary handed over the weapon. He felt like kicking himself for leaving his gun in their house. Paul looked warily inside the door. Nothing moved. Only a singular guard with his head buried in a magazine of some sort was the only person anywhere in sight. He was about thirty feet away. Obviously, he was too engrossed in his reading to hear the door open. Stealthily, they slunk into the facility. The door shut behind them. The heat of the facility struck Emily in the face and she nearly cried in joy. She swatted her partially frozen pant legs, knocking some of the snow off. Slowly the feeling returned to her face, then to her hands. Paul and Gary were doing the same, allowing the heat to soak into their freezing bodies as they watched the guard. He didn't make a single movement, other than using his hand to turn the page. They only spent a minute or so warming up. Emily wanted to take her shoes off and warm her feet, but that would make to much noise. Then without warning, the guard looked up. And turned around in his chair. Surprise took control of his face. He started to get out of his chair, making a move for the alarm. But Emily fired and the laser shot caught the guard in the back, just below the neck. Blood spurted as the man fell forward onto the L-shaped desk. His body slowly slid down the marble surface, leaving a crimson trail. "Well, your gun works." Paul said. "Do you think they're going to let us in like at the first gate?" Emily whispered to Gary. "I don't know. The way the guard ran, it looked like he was trying to hit the alarm or get a weapon." Gary was slightly pale. He stared at the red streaks running down the desk with terror-filled, wide eyes. "Well if there's a chance that they know were coming, that throws a wrench into our plans." Paul said. "Then we should get going before anybody comes along and sees that." Emily pointed to the dead guard. "Good idea." Gary said, having difficulty peeling his gaze from the blood stained surface. "That way." Gary directed them down the corridor. The short corridor was the only way in or out of the rear entry. At the end of the corridor, it split into two hallways both extending out of view. Silence clung to the air as tenaciously as a mountain climber clings to a mountain side. Only the hum of the fluorescent lights above broke the quiet. Sidling along wall, Emily glanced up and down the connected hallways quickly. She expected to see a heavily armed guard of some sort come running up one of the paths, but she saw nothing. Not even a wandering janitor. Gary pointed left, so they turned the corner and went left. Watching their backs for a man to step out of a door and bring the guards to them. As Emily walked down the hall, she kept her eyes open for something. She kept her pistol pointed to the floor. Several questions bounced through her head. Where are the guards? Shouldn't the security be higher than this if this is a military facility? Wouldn't there be cameras all over this place? What the hell is going on?

The darkness. Must stop them. They'll hurt them. Darkness. Stop. Death. Darkness. Stop them.

The computer did not move a pixel after 'No more' popped onto the screen. The boys heart was still beating, but his mind seemed to be turned off. "That's it." Max said to himself. "The boy must have done something to the device so it can't read his thoughts anymore." He spoke angrily because he no longer had the foresight of the boy's thoughts. He called the guard at the front entry. It rang. No answer. "Nelson." No answer. "Andrew." No answer. "Anybody." Silence. "What the hell?"

The hallway never seemed to end. The hum of the lights was never broken by approaching footsteps or the sound of a gunshot. With every step, she grew more wary. Sweat poured off her forehead though she was still chilled. Her stomach coiled in nervous anticipation. At any second a guard can come around a corner, or jump out of a room and they would be cut down before they could act. Emily glanced down a conjoining hallway. Nothing. "Turn here." Gary whispered. "There's an elevator around the corner." Turning into the hallway, Emily kept an eye out for something to move. The anger that she felt the night her son was taken away began to burn. Where are these cowards? She asked herself. She felt like shouting, 'Come out here you bastards, so I can blow you fucking heads off!' But she knew they needed to be discreet, and shouting that would be far from being discreet.

The elevator doors slid open. Gary stepped in. Paul signaled for Emily to get in. She backed into the cab; soon after Paul followed. Emily looked at the control pad. None of the buttons were marked. Gary pressed the fourth button in the third column and the cab began to move. "What the hell? Why aren't there any guards?" Paul said to Gary. "I don't know. We should have seen someone by now." Looking at the doors apprehensively, Emily was sure that they would suddenly open and a group of men would be on the other side ready to fill them full of holes. But when the doors finally opened, only a deserted hallway lay beyond the opening. Stepping from the elevator Paul glanced both ways and saw nothing. Emily and Gary stepped out as well when Paul deemed it safe. "The room is right around that corner and down the hall." Gary whispered. A hallway connected to their right about six feet away. Emily walked along the wall and peered around the corner. A man dressed in black was lying on the floor. She gasped and whipped her head back around out of view. "What?" Paul asked softly. "What is it?" "There's someone there." She replied. "Oh, shit." Gary said. "He's lying on the floor." Emily said, confused. "On the floor?" "Yes." "I'll check it out." Paul said as he stepped past Emily and into the hallway. He trained his rifle on the man. The man didn't move, not even a twitch of a finger, or a fluttering of his eyelids which were open wide as if in shock. As Paul grew closer, he could hear him breathing shallowly. Kneeling next to the man, Paul pressed his fingers into the man's neck, checking for a pulse. A strong regular heartbeat. Paul waved his hand in front of the man's face. He didn't blink or even move a muscle. Paul slapped the man across the face. A sharp sound resonated through the hall. The man didn't react at all. Paul turned and waved for Emily and Gary to follow. Hesitantly, they came around the corner. Paul stood and faced Emily. "He's alive, but he's not doing much." Paul said. "What's wrong with him?" Emily said. "Not a clue." "Well, let's not waste time with our thumbs up our ass. Let's move." Emily stepped over the fallen man and continued down the hall. A large steel door with a wheel lock on the front stood at the end of the hallway.

Emily felt the darkness that she felt in the car again. This time it was completely overwhelming. When it struck her, she was nearly knocked over. She could feel it pulsing all around her. Then it was over as suddenly as it hit her. She found herself leaning against the wall, half hunched over. Paul was holding onto her arm saying her name. "Emily.Emily." Breathing heavily she looked up at Paul. Worry creased his face. "I'm alright." She said finally. Gary stood behind them making sure nobody stumbled across them. Since they were in a dead-end hall, only their backs were open. Emily picked up the pistol laying between feet that she dropped when she was inundated by the dark sensation. The door was less than ten feet away.

Max frantically began to call the security guards one by one. "Ivan." Nothing. "Eric." No answer. "Bill!" Static. "TERRANCE!" Nothing. What happened to the guards?! He shouted in his mind, and words seemed to echo between his ears. Nobody was responding. Not even the men in the security room where all the cameras, all the sonic detectors, and all the other mechanized security measures are monitored. He called Morris. "Morris." "Yes?" "Have you seen anything weird lately?" "No. Why?" Max didn't know how to answer the question so he just killed the communication. "What's going on here?" He said to the walls expecting no response. He glanced at the computer screen and saw the two words, no more, and he knew what happened. Even though he did not want to believe it, he knew.

Gary grabbed the wheel and spun it, unlocking the massive door. Then he grabbed the handle. He pulled back. His face contorted as he strained to open the door. The steel gate seemed reluctant to leave its crevice. With a rush of air, Gary pulled the door free and swung it wide.

Max heard the outer door open. He quickly grabbed the pistol on the table and aimed it at the door. It was the parents coming to save their child.

"Chris is just beyond this door?" Emily asked elatedly. "Yes. But he's probably still in the sensory deprivation chamber." Gary said as he unlocked the inner door, and pressed his shoulder against it and lunged forward. The door flung open and Gary spilled into the room. Emily was about to run into the room when she heard gunfire and Gary take a shot in his shoulder. Gary's back slammed against the wall, but he did not fall. A crimson stain began to seep into his shirt. Then another shot, this one tore into Gary's left knee. Blood splattered against the wall. Gary collapsed with a cry of pain. Emily wanted to help him but she knew if she took a step inside the room, the shooter would make target practice of her. She looked at Paul, his face showed that the same torment was running through his mind. "I know you're there. Your son is in here. If you come in I won't kill him." A voice echoed from inside the room. Emily looked at Paul. The look on his face said everything. 'What now?' "How do we know you won't kill him anyway?" Paul shouted into the room. "You have my word." The voice said. "Yeah, but how good is that?" He said quiet enough so that Emily could hear, but not whoever was in the room. "We want to see him." Paul said. No response. Paul repositioned himself so he could see into the room clearly, while making a smaller target of himself. Emily did the same. Paul glanced into the room. A wall of computers was on the far side. The edge of an object stood in the middle of the room. Of what Paul could see, it looked like a sphere sitting on a block. Gary's body lay in the floor he was gripping his knee. Blood oozed between his fingers. A look of pain tortured his face. Paul waited for the man to respond to his request, but he only got silence. "We want to see him." He made the request again. "No." The man gave an answer quickly. "Damn." Paul said under his breath. Reluctantly, Paul said, "I'm coming in." "No." Emily said objecting. Tears began to form in her eyes when she thought she could lose Paul. "It's the only way. I'm going to walk to the far side of the room-" "No." She pleaded. "-and try to attract his attention-" "Please." "-then I want you to shoot that bastard." Paul said. Then he stood. Shouting to the man in the room, "I'm coming in now." Paul raised his hands, with the rifle still in them. Stepping into the room sideways, Paul saw the man. He stood on the other side of the object in the middle of the room, Paul figured that was the sensory deprivation chamber, and his son was inside. He was so close, only seven feet or so, but this man stood in his way; he might as well been thirty miles away. The man aimed right at Paul's head. "Put the gun down." He demanded. Slowly Paul walked as far from the door as possible. "Ok, just stay calm." He shuffled further. "Slowly." Paul began to lower his rifle. Now Emily. He thought. Now! Blow him away. Paul put the rifle far out at his side and slowly lowered it to the floor. Emily leaned out. The man must have seen movement, because he began to turn towards Emily, bring his gun along with him. Emily fired. The light from the laser seemed to fill every corner of the room. The sound of the shot reverberated back and forth from one wall to the other.

No more. No more. No more. No more. No more! NO MORE!

Negative resources. 9484$%88kf#^%&&hg No more! 8dhaav Des..des58%^(3 Destruct. No more. Destruct T- NO MORE minus. Negate countdown. Detonate.

Sitting in the Captain's seat, Morris felt the entire ship rumble. He didn't know why, but he switched on the rear view camera. The Machine behind them was blowing up from the inside. Spires of flame shot through the blackness. "Oh, God." Morris said under his breath. The Machine exploded, taking the Enterprises with it.

On a planet in the middle of nowhere, the final Machine exploded without witness. Except of course for the animals that saw the detonation.

Missed. The shot flew several inches to the right of the man's head. Emily aimed again, but before she could, the man fired at her. She flinched, the shot grazed across her upper arm. She squealed in pain. "No!" Paul shouted. He brought his rifle back up and quickly fired. Since he couldn't get into a good stance, the recoil jarred his entire body. The shot struck the man in his arm. He spun three hundred sixty degrees and slammed into the floor. His gun flew out of his hand. Paul ran over to the gun. He picked it up off the floor. The man was lying on his back. He looked up at Paul in terror. Paul aimed the gun at him. Rage burned inside him; he wanted to make him pay for everything. "Mother fucker." Paul fired. And fired again, again. He emptied the energy reserves in the pistol. The man was a bloody mess. His head was literally disintegrated, only bloody fragments of his skull and mangled masses of brain tissue remained discernable. Emily came running into the room, ignoring the disheveled corpse, and jumped into Paul's arms. Paul kissed her neck and hugged her tightly. Reluctantly, Emily released Paul so he could open the chamber that held Chris. Paul pulled a latch out of place and swung a circular door open. The interior of the thing was pitch black. "Chris." Paul said into the gloom. Something splashed inside. "Daddy!" That single word made Paul almost explode in joy. The boy's head and shoulders appeared out of the darkness.

"Chris!" Emily shouted as she grabbed for Chris and helped him out of the chamber. Once fully out, Emily and Paul hugged him as he hugged them back.

They had Chris back. Gary stood, on his good leg. "Hurry, we need to get out of here, before any guards show up." "No, the guards can't come here." Chris said in a calm voice. "Why?" "Because I made it so they can't hurt anybody anymore." Paul remembered the man he saw in the hallway, still alive, but not moving. Somehow, Chris did that. "If you did it to them, why didn't you do it to the man here." Paul asked. "Because he was too dark, his thoughts were all so dark, I couldn't get close enough, I'm sorry." The boy hung his head. He didn't want to mention the other darkness he felt. It was too scary. Emily was stunned. "Who did you.stop?" "Anybody and anything that could hurt you." Chris said. Chris has shown that no matter how powerful a machine can become, no matter how much damage it can do, no matter how intelligent they become, the human mind is always more powerful than the machine.

9

After Emily and Paul escaped from the facility with their son, the coalition that was to take over the Arm Galactic Empire, exercised the power of the ADIT in a violent overthrow. One of the members, was in the building when Chris was rescued by his parents. He changed his plans and killed the other members. Now he is the totalitarian dictator of the former Arm Galactic Empire.

Watching the snow fall outside his window in his Colorado home, Louis sipped at his drink the Earth people call cocoa. The faded moonlight shone through the window casting a subtle gray light across the floor. The grandfather clock in the far corner of the room clicked, as if it was getting ready to chime. But it was set on the silent setting, so it would not chime at night. Louis knew it was fifteen minutes past one in the morning. He knew he should be sleeping, but he could not. He kept glancing back at Elise sleeping peacefully on their bed. Even in the low light, he could see her swollen stomach. She was eight months into her first pregnancy. He looked back at the downy flakes falling lazily past his window. For some odd reason, his thoughts turned to the Ham family, and how he helped them on that road. He wondered if they got their son back, or died trying. He supposed that question will nag him until the day he dies, because it would be nearly impossible for him to find them, wherever they are. He sipped his cocoa and watched the falling snow.

Sitting in a grassy field Emily laid on her back. A pristine blue sky hung overhead. The air was fresher than she could ever remember. With the city of Pittsburgh on the horizon the view was spectacular. Chris and Helen were chasing each other, playing a game. Paul was sitting next to her reading a book. She never had another vision, or feeling since the blizzard at the ADIT facility. She had never felt so free. She finally knew what it was like to live. For the first time in her life, she wasn't a citizen of an empire, or a soldier, she knew what it was to be human.