You are on page 1of 111

To the dreams of Gabreia

Sometime around the year 2000...

"Incoming left flank!

Going into evasive maneuvers! Gwhaaaa!!!"

In a plume of smoke Lieutenant Jacobs was no more.

What would later become known as "the contact" was already forgotten.
It was already four years since the attack from the Grey Aliens, the first but not the last.

Four years of war...


Aces vs. Aliens

By Alexander Griffin



The Cheshire Cat

"Ryan Stone, its like something out of a movie, like Mister Cool, or Malibu Rex" -P
"Stone Cold Ryan Stone" -B
He cracks it.
"Aw there he goes, he shows a smile" -B
"No middle name though, that's pretty badass, just Ryan Stone." -P
"Come'on guys shut up, what are your names, Patrick Teetle and Bobby Spoon, you should be
driving nascar or playing baseball or something" -R
"Who are you to talk man, country ass should be singing country music or something, like you
got a blue grass band, Ryan Stone and the Billy Boys" -P
"Yeah Ryan and the Family Stone" -B
"Huh?" -P
"Its like and old band, Sly an..." -B
--BEEP-"An alert!" -B
"Maybe it's a drill" -P
"Either way" Ryan grimaces and moves his head in the direction of HQ, the three of them bolt.
In what seemed like five seconds the men were lined up at attention over 100 yards away, along
with the rest of their special air unit. Since the war started four years ago, all air units are
special air units...they have to be.
Commander Wilson spoke. "You have been called here because there is a special mission for this
unit here on this base."
(On the base?) -Ryan thinks to himself.
"As you know there are over 3000 personnel on this base including the 20 of you.
been reports of secret transmissions being sent from..."

There have

(I hope this is a fucking drill) -Patrick

"...facility. The transmissions are suspected of being sent directly to the Grey Aliens. The
transmissions have not been decoded. You are to investigate this using the techniques you
have learned..."

("using the techniques you have learned" sounds like an exercise ) -Stone lowers his eyebrows
and slightly adjusts his stance, relaxing a bit.
"...investigate these messages. It is possible that there is a Grey Alien here on this base using
some sort of cloaking device. After you rule out that possibility you are to try and discover the
identity of the mole as it is possible that there is a traitor or some one under direct mind control
or corporeal inhabitment. There is a possibility that this individual or group of individuals will
strike at the base or hinder our war effort through counter-intelligence. You are advised to be
cautious in your approach as all of you here are also considered suspect. We are endangering
this base and our operations with your involvement, as one of you may very well be the Grey
(You've gotta be fucking kidding me) -Patrick
(3000 people!?) A stern look overtakes Bobby's face (I guess when you compare it to the global
population, DMC, direct mind control and corporeal inhabitment have been proven...the threat
is very real, this mission is very serious.)
"Use whatever means or techniques at your disposal, but remember not to act unless you are
certain that you have encountered hostiles, and be cautious of your manner as well. Report
your findings to me and only me, and also to Dr. Bian."
(Wilson has a way with words) -Ryan
Dr. Bian starts to speak, he draws his breath with every sentence, with every word, inhaling and
wheezing when he talks in his weird stan-country accent from wherever he's from. His voice
sounded like a broken bagpipe that was still searching for its notes. The good Dr. didn't sit well
with Stone or much of the other crew. He was an adjunct, an outsider brought in as an expert
on what can be classified as the occult. He was always teaching lessons in obscure subjects and
training the pilots in special thought and meditation techniques to help them in some way.
Most pilots never really caught on or learned to apply his techniques in battle. He was a
weirdo, and unamerican, and a scientist with no official rank. His position bothered some of
the more serious soldiers. But there was something weird about him, something you couldn't
put your finger on, like he was from somewhere else, and even though he was in a room with
you, it seemed like he was still someplace else, maybe just in his mind. But it seemed like his
body had a strange vibe to it, like you don't look at him, but you look into him, like glimpsing into
a different, strange, uncanny world of Dr. Bian.
(Maybe Bian's the alien...) -thought Patrick with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"So, zee main thing heeere is to not let zee alien now you are watchzing it zor it will use zits TK to
control zyour bodyyyy or maybe ezen control your mind!"
(Bian sounds pretty serious) -Patrick

"So zee must be careful zand extremely precautious"

(He can't put together a sentence but he can know how to say "precautious", doctors man)
"So zee will start with zee mantra here togezer to cleanse uz first. At eaze pilotz, I want you
to relax" He briefly closes his eyes and moves his arm in a waving motion away from himself, as
though he was casting a spell.
"zif you have zee alien in your soul...let it be gone
zif you are an alien in your heart...let it be open
zif zere is an alien in your body...cast it away
zif zee alien has your mind...take it back!"
"Now, I want you to visualize yourselves. As you imagine, see yourselves invincible in your
mindz eye. Ask you what makes you, you? Zor what makes you yourself? Zis is your divine
passcode to your inner temple. If you lose yourself to zee alien, you can use your divine
passcode to get yourself back."
(What a bunch of baloney) -Ryan
(So I gotta visualize myself inside of myself and then start a conversation...) Patrick tries to no
avail, Sheepishly amusing himself by having a pretend conversation with a hot girl.
Spoon is nodding out about to fall over, but he catches himself, eyes closed still living his
fantasies in Spoonland. Who knows what wonders Spoon was partaking ;)
(That's it huh? find the alien spy? It's been too long since any real missions...we're still at
war...what's going on?) -Ryan

the next day...

Cadet 1:

"Intelligence research program!?"

Patrick: "Yes, we're

warfare scenarios."
Cadet 2:

looking for candidates to help study the psychic weaknesses of humans in

"Be a test subject?"

Patrick: "There's substantial compensation and it stays on your record, of course there is risk,
but check out the numbers for retirement." Patrick hands the man a clipboard.

Cadet 2: "No thanks, not for psychic experiments, I'm not risking my sanity any more than I
have too."
Cadet 3: "Yer born crazy anyways, here let me see that...okay...It says here there is a risk of
death, no thank you." He hands back the clipboard, the cadets walk away.
Patrick: (They didn't seem suspicious at all. It's going to take a long time to check everybody.
Oh there's another group over there!) "Hey good morning! Do have a minute to hear about a
great way to help the war effort while staying out of harms way?"

Elsewhere on base...Spoon is hiding in some bushes off in some forgotten corner.

of binoculars, eyeing, spying, looking for strange behavior, for the alien.
Spoon: "Oooooh nothin' yet," he whispers to himself.
in his mouth.

He has a pair

He rubs his chin like he has a bad taste

"Oooooh FUCK!" (off to another location)

Hardly anyone would notice him emerge, he stands and adjusts his hat in the same way as
someone who had just done something questionable and then adjusted their hat to avoid he shat in the bushes or something. But he was gone, off to another location
from whence he can spy.

His feet elevated on his desk in his quarters, Ryan Stone hasn't done anything just yet...sitting
back in his chair twiddling his thumbs, could he even give a damn?
(No missions for months...then this weird drill thing...maybe they're planning a large operation
and this is just to keep us occupied and distracted. If the troops aren't que'd in on what's
happening, it will be harder for the enemy to figure out the plan, and if the troops are busy
looking for spies -which they might even find, meanwhile the upper command can plan their
operation in secret.)
A quick pulsation hits his spine, Ryan gets an eerie feeling, like deja vu, (a double blind
experiment!) Stone drops his feet down. (It's like a big, massive, double blind experiment!)
Pure reflex -Stone grits his teeth and emits a low growl (Different ranks or squadrons could have
been given the same orders as us, or even different orders...) Stone growls again (How many
layers are there to this!?)

Noontime at the mess hall

Stone, Spoon, and Teetle are eating lunch.

is face down quietly eating his food.

Spoon and Teetle are talking about their day, Stone

Teetle: "How come you not talkin' STONE?" he scoops up a bite of mashed potatoes from
Ryan's plate. "Maybe he shouldn't trust us cuz' we might be aliens?"
The three of them burst out into laughter. Ryan looks around to make sure no one's listening to
them, looking to the left and to the right, then out of nowhere suddenly appears...
"Yippie Kai Yay Motherfuckers" Benson sits down rocking the bench and the table pushing the
adjacent people and trays to the sides to make room... all in one clean motion. "I'm here."
Drawing attention to himself like a two year old he then neatly sets up his napkin and
silverware out in front of him before eating. He was a real asshole. "A real shitstorm they
sent us into today, find the alien..." he motions shooting himself in the head "What fuck do I look
like!? Dr. Kavorkian Freud dude!?" talking with his mouth full.
Spoon: "Me and Teetle'd been on it all day, Stone over here," He tosses a fresh napkin at
Stone, it falls short and lands on his tray. "lazy shit ain't done nothing." Spoon was finished
eating, he was wiping his hands. Benson was finished too, fucker ate fast. They both got up.
Benson: "Allright

friendlys," he yawns, "see you 1600."




"Sure thing"

It's quiet for a few minutes while Stone and Teetle finish their food.
mashed potatoes, "So why aren't you taking this serious?"

Teetle's playing with his

"I think it's just a drill... or an experiment."

Teetle: (hmmm) "even so..."

Stone: "I have to stay sharp for sorties, focusing on this other can I stay sharp if I'm
busy looking for an alien. I'm not Dick Tracy or Sherlock Holmes, I'm Ryan Stone. I don't
figure stuff out, I do stuff when It needs to be done." showing agitation.
Teetle: "Okay man dude its okay, it's just that they're orders you know, and we're supposed to
follow orders, no freeriding, you know like army ants...maybe we don't know the whole scheme
man but we do our job, not so we can survive, but so our children, so our race, our fucking
species!" Starting to get passionate, the surrounding tables turn to look over at them.
Stone with no bullshit looks Teetle in the eyes- "Do you think we'll make it?" the surrounding
tables turn away, now actively tuning out a conversation which is too poignant for their sensitive
Teetle starts to churn his mashed potatoes again, staring at an almost empty tray. "No" he looks
up at Stone and leans back, completely self-assured, relaxed, and confident; Almost reclining or
resting he looks at him with a blank emotionless expression on his face, but with clear

penetrating eyes. "Maybe YOU might make it, or ME, or SPOON, or Spoon and me, or Benson
and Spoon, or you and me, or you and Benson...but no...we're not going to make it."
Stone turns away, he couldn't look in his eyes anymore; now Stone's belly is sensitive. Stone
nods his head and concurs with a wry grimace. He looks back at Patrick again and shows his
frown of agreement. Suddenly he wasn't hungry any more.
-"Let's go."

1600 comes around...

The Special Air Unit is assembled in the main hangar with about 200 other servicemen.
Commander Wilson was reviewing the specs of the enemy aircraft. They had typical flying
saucers...erratic movement, apparent teleportation abilities...aerodynamic disc shaped body.
Wilson went on...
"Now you've all been trained in the F-22 Raptor, but there's a new baby on the block. Starting
next month you're going to be training to fly the C-1 Lynx, we'll be getting a new G-machine to
practice in, but until then I want everyone to clock in at least 60 minutes on the..."
(A new G-machine, are they crazy!? What kind of vehicle!?
simulated G's...) -Ryan

60 minutes spinning in circles of

The current G-machine was an adapted version of the typical G-machine, which was a beam that
spun on a horizontal plane connected to a central axis. The pilot was at the end of this beam in
a capsule, like some twisted carnival ride designed to test extreme G forces and simulate flight
conditions. The Special Air Unit had a G-machine which could bend up or down a total of 60
degrees along the horizontal axis, this allowed for erratic movement and even circular reversals
of flow and direction...what could be more advanced?
"I don't care if you have to do it at 2 a.m., get in your 60 minutes.
their time as well, I suggest you sign up early."
(Business as usual huh?

I want everyone to log in

Nothing about alien spies...) -Patrick

The trucks could be seen coming in late at night, they were building the new G-machine.
Everyone on base was excited...everyone but Spoon. He loathed the current G-machine and
barely passed the rigorous tests. This new one was hideous, at least by the rumors it seemed
like it. Massive pieces, giant metal frames, it had to be assembled by a specialist crew of
scientists and technicians. It took three weeks of work around the clock to finish. Spoon
would look at the progress of the construction and almost vomit in his mouth in disgust of the
tyrannical oppression which was to come. He could feel the impending wasn't just a
new G-machine, new training often implied new and improved enemy capabilities as well...or

rather, the training could be preparation for something worse to come.

(If this G-machine seems like something from Frankenstein's laboratory...What are the
capabilities of the Cheshire-1 Lynx? And who or what will we engage with it?) Spoon
hesitates to get inside the old G-machine. He hasn't eaten in two days or drank anything for 12
hours...he also took measures to make sure his bowels were completely empty. (There will be
no accidents this time, and nothing to clean up.) He's the last pilot to clock in his 60 minutes.

The machine looked like some sort of giant gyroscope, much like a spherical cage which dirt bike
riders can go in circles, but how did it work? It consists of strips of gleaming metal an inch and
a half wide and a centimeter thick woven into a sphere the size of an oak tree. The weaving
pattern left perfect triangles of empty space with each side approximately 8 inches long. This
giant see-through woven spherical cage was called the limiter, it sat on a base which looked like
a rectangular pyramid with the top cut off, also made of gleaming metal. On the base were a
bunch of nobs and thingamajiggers. The base was connected to the ground through a
foundation but there was no apparent power supply. Inside the limiter was another sphere
woven in much the same way, except it was much smaller, actually it was two spheres so close in
size they can be considered one sphere. So within the limiter was another sphere, or rather,
two spheres with one encapsulating the other with their surfaces always touching but sliding
and moving with zero friction, allowing the inner sphere to surf while the outer sphere rotates
within the limiter. These two spheres were called the twin spheres. Imagine 3 Russian dolls,
one of them very large (the limiter), the other two are almost the same size (twin spheres)
-allowing the two dolls to move freely within the largest doll but not independent of each other.
Now imagine spheres... the twin spheres can move freely within the limiter, but because they
are spheres (and not Russian dolls) the inner sphere can still rotate in 360 degrees independent
of the outer sphere, and vice versa because there is no friction. If you haven't guessed, the
pilot is harnessed within the inner sphere. The harness is designed to allow for the pilot to
shift their body weight to effect the movement of the twin spheres. Because of the gleaming
metal material, the touching surfaces of the limiter and twin spheres are entirely frictionless
-allowing the pilot to surf gyroscopically if the outer sphere can rotate while the pilot maintains
a balanced center of gravity within the inner sphere. This technique of using the twin spheres
within the limiter is called surfing while using the rotation of the outer sphere to quickly shift the
center of gravity is called wrenching, while linking surfing and wrenching together is called
weaving. These techniques are made possible by learning to shift ones body weight in the
correct fashion, just like using the swing.

But this was just the beginning of the new G-machine's functions. Codenamed Pandora, after
the Greek legend, the machine used technology that no one asked questions about. The
doodads on the rectangular base controlled the magnetic field being put through Pandora.
Though the 3 spheres appeared to be made of the same material, this was not the case as each
alloy was tuned to different magnetic frequencies. Using the controls on the base, the
magnetic field of each individual sphere can be controlled as well as all 3 together. This means
that the twin spheres can be made sticky...that is...magnetized in order to add friction. In this
way through magnetic fields the friction can be adjusted in an analog fashion throughout the
whole machine, or specific spheres can be targeted for special plural effects. It is even possible

to do a freeze, in which the operator can lock all 3 spheres in position at any time, effectively
stopping the rotation within the twin spheres and holding the twin spheres motionless against
the limiter. Once the pilot has mastered surfing, wrenching and weaving they would work with
the operator on specific drills and exercises using sticky, plural, and freeze. It is also rumored
that the Pandora System can operate in hyperslick mode, effectively changing the coefficient of
friction to a negative number so that the In the hands of a skilled operator the potential training
scenarios of the Pandora system are practically limitless.

It was a long briefing for the pilots, they were all given manuals to study.
commence at 0800 the following day

Training would

...but still no mention of the Cheshire-1 Lynx.

That night...Bobby Spoon was in a cold sweat. He was shaking in his sleep, breathing heavily,
every now and then he'd give out a squeak, or a squeal or a whimper or a groan or a growl...He
was battling something in his spirit. He felt sick during the whole briefing and actually vomited
while reading the manual later that evening. Some details about blowing out his intestines and
having his eyeballs pop out at the same time he just couldn't handle. He took a few shots of
whiskey and decided to go to sleep early, but he would have no rest. Tossing and turning in his
sleep, he was having a dream...
...He dreampt that he went inside the Pandora System, instead it wasn't at the base but at a
carnival. The pilots were doing intense drills, each one going in for only 15 seconds of intense
training then moving on to a circuit of intense calisthenics designed to improve performance
within the limiter. With only 2 seconds of transition between pilots, the twin spheres are doing
17 second cycles of particular patterns of movement, almost completely controlled by a
computer, with an operator changing the pattern when all 20 cadets made a full cycle every 340
seconds. One cadet was always inside while the others were doing drills. The dream seems
to last for hours. With cadets dying while in the twin spheres, the intervals between individual
cadets gets shorter, until there are about a half dozen pilots left. Wilson appeared as a
strapping young man, but he wore a carnival hat instead of his normal Air Corps hat, he looked
grim. Every two minutes Spoon was going into the machine, barely making it out. This
seemed to go on for hours, since the time he went to sleep. The grimness of Wilson was a
help, there was a love behind it. Now a hateful indifference takes over Bobby as he battles for
his soul...
Vaguely half awake and asleep, Bobby is aware of himself having this dream. Neither asleep or
awake, if he doesn't face this now he won't survive tomorrow, and if he doesn't survive
tomorrow, well...humanity...there is no choice. Tangentially out of the ethers emits a vermilion
glow. The dream begins to change. A calm takes over him, he is ready to awake, but not yet.
He views a scene of a man talking to a beautiful woman, she is upset at the man about
something, but she is ever wiser and more graceful. (Is she trying to teach me something?) The
dream changes again. Bards from the middle ages are playing fiddles and flutes on a bridge.
They are poor and humble, they play for no one. But these bards played wonderful music, and

the smiles on their faces are written in the tomes of the gods. The music enters his soul and
fills it. The fiddles and flutes reverberate and echo within him, resonating deeper with each
echo and flowing from his heart throughout his mind and entire consciousness. He awakes
calmly opening his eyes and breathing slowly and deeply. He wonders at the world for a brief
moment, then rolls over and goes peacefully to sleep.

-The next day

All twenty cadets weren't on a two minute circuit like in Spoons dream. They are set up with
folding chairs outside the Pandora system, continually studying their manuals while cadets went
in for five minute "trials" where they attempted to follow the instructions of the engineers and
physical therapists on hand. One of them was a woman with a headband, a real phoenix who
went by the name Branstein. She was a yoga instructor and doctor. No one knew her first
name, or even if she had a cute nickname or something. She is an adjunct, but she tries to help
the pilots shift their weight and instructs them by posing to show the correct movements. She
works one on one with the pilots in their individual "trials". The reason why there are trials...
Wilson: "...for several weeks we will have these trials. I suggest you master Lieutenant
Branstein's techniques if you want to be selected. There is no limit on how many of you may
be selected. However, due to the danger to the pilot, you will not be allowed to fly the C-1 if
you fail to learn to surf, wrench, and weave.
(Not to mention the costs of a state of the art aircraft) -Ryan
(Now they're fuckin trying to teach us yoga!?) -Patrick
(So we're being eliminated!?) -Bobby
All the guys are looking at Lieutenant Branstein more than they are studying their manuals,
actually, they were on five minute trials so they can study each other's performance and
cross-reference it with the manuals and their own performance, while also listening to the
advice of Dr. Bian, Lt. Branstein, and Wilson. The pilots' first goal was to achieve surfing.
But that Branstein sure was hot. She had a quiet fierceness about her. The type that emitted
a respect because she seems serious, as though she has a bitchy side beneath the surface that
you'll never see. It exists, it's very real, at her core is a madwoman holding the pieces together,
on the surface is a poise superior being. But all those men will never ruffle her feathers and
expose it, she could care less...because she conquered men a long time ago.
Benson steps up to the plate:

"It's my turn Lt. B"

"You will call me Lt. protocol"

"I'll call you whatever you want!"
Branstein turns to Wilson in rage, her face red under her blonde hair:


Wilson barks with hesitation:"Strap yourself in Benson, or your facing courtmartial!"(Why are all

the best pilots always lunatics?)

Benson begins to move on his own pre-emptively.
Branstein stops him:
he already knows!)"

"Major Benson!

Await my INSTRU....(he's surfing?...only a few feet,but

"Sorry Lieutenant, jus' tryin' to get a feel for her's all" Benson rocking his hips surfing up the
limiter a few feet then resting back at the bottom. Hardly a distance, but surfing none the less.
He more or less stayed in one spot at the bottom.
Lt. Branstein reigns him in:
rest of your unit?"

"Very good Major, would you like to share your method with the


"That's the motion of making love right there!"


"That's enough! Next! Stone!"

Stone walks in stern as always.

split second.
Branstein puts on a smirk:

Branstein has a half smile on her face.

Stone smiles back for a

"Let's see what you can do."

Stone steps into the twin spheres, something about it made him feel like a lab rat. He looks
over at Branstein, they exchange glances. He's looking for something in her...a shred of
femininity perhaps, or maybe weakness, he didn't know what but he definitely felt like a fool
once he realized he was wasting time just standing there staring into her face. He catches
himself and immediately lurches forward. Losing his feet under him, Ryan was top-heavy
rotating forward 150 degrees, this all happens in a split second as he gets stuck almost upside
down. The other pilots start jeering and laughing. Stone pushes his feet outward in an
attempt to correct himself but all this does is initiate a corkscrew motion. The more he tries to
correct himself, the less effective his efforts are until he starts to get frustrated, writhing
frantically at this tilted upside down angle. His head is gracefully floating, leading the way as he
maintains the nose dive position traveling along awkward patterns across the floor of the limiter.
"Ryan looks like a fish out of water!" -Patrick cries
"Come'on Stone!"-He can hear the shouts of Captain Murphy and Spoon, who combined,
screeched like terradactyls. "Correct yourself!"
But no matter how he tried he could do nothing...he could see Branstein attempting to get his
attention and give him instructions. But in his frustrated rage (he was in performance mode),
Stone continued to struggle and tune her out.
Maybe it was his honor as a man...he had to
fight the machine...or did the machine have to fight him? They would gain a mutual respect for
each other along the way. But that woman! Out of the corner of his eyes Stone can see her
quietly talking to Wilson and someone else at the controls of Pandora. She turns to Stone with
a brief glance, an evaluative stare that was quick, though it seemed eternal with the impression
of pity that Branstein had put upon Stones soul. He could sense it, the party was almost over.
He continues to fight, against the machine, against himself. He lets out a roaring scream, Its
getting even harder to control, now his efforts were truly pointless as the Pandora was in freeze
mode. But he still fights against it, trying to correct himself in what looks like painful back

arches, as though he's trying to do the bridge from his inverted position. It was both shocking
and sad to watch. The machine had been in total freeze mode for over five seconds before
Stone realized it had been shut off. He had lost.
"This is ridiculous! You need professional help, we're sending you in for a psychological
evaluation...You have no business being anywhere near..." -She was flustered dude.
Wilson steps in: "Hold on here!"
"Commander!"-she pleads.
"Lieutenant Branstein you are forgetting your rank, you are brought on as an adjunct to assist,
you have no jurisdiction over other men in uniform."
(...Men...he says? Maybe I'm wasting my time here...) She fights back!
are too busy being macho to see who has the most..."

"You so called MEN

"You are out of line Lieutenant Branstein!" Wilson then turns to face everyone, "We're taking a
break! and Cut the Shit! At 0900 we're doing this again, no more monkey business.
Lieutenant Branstein, Major Stone...I would like to see both of you."
Stone was lost in the haze of battle, when his mind finally cleared he felt completely detached
from what had just happened...almost as though a different person was strapped into that
machine. Branstein was quiet, she had the fierceness that hid storms beneath the surface.
She also seemed as though she was not effected, although she had just exposed the chinks in her
Wilson sits down in a folding chair and gives out a long sigh: "We don't need this from you
two. I know everyone is anxious about Pandora and its possibilities, but we have to keep our
eye on the ball."
(Baseball...typical Man) Branstein purses her lips and cocks her head to the side.
-Wilson picks up on it.

"And you Felicia!"

(Felicia!?) Stone does his best to conceal a smile.

(Please don't call me Felicia in front of the pilots...)

An angst driven look takes over her face.

"I know you were placed here to help assist in our training exercises. And assist is what you will
do. From here on you will only work in conjunction with Dr. Bian and support him wherever
"But without proper form, the Cheshire-1 Lynx is nothing but a death machine!"-She pleads.
"We'll worry about that later...these boys are used to taking a few risks." Wilson looked satisfied
with the conversation, he didn't want to talk anymore...his wife was a badger as well...
Branstein wasn't done..."Taking some risks? Is that what you call that!?
mentally disturbed, pre-pubescent jackass trying to make his friends laugh."

Looked like a

Stone gives her a sharp grievous look then returns to his at ease position facing Commander

Wilson, expecting him to come to his defense...but he doesn't.

As mean, wise, and feared as a rusty nail, Commander Wilson looks back at Stone...then slowly
looks back to Felicia; he knew how to diffuse this. He widens his eyes: "Look, I don't care, I
don't know, and I sure as hell could give a hoot what is going on between you two...but this had
better stop here or you will both be courtmartialed."
Stone and Felicia exchange a cold, ghastly stare.

Felicia blurts out:

"That's not it at all sir!"

"Lieutenant Branstein" Wilson cuts her off.

"Yes, Sir"
"You are dismissed"
"oh uh, Yes, Sir"
Content, the Commander relaxes... (The panties have been successfully unbunched)...he coughs
"Stone, what happened in there?"
"I don't know, I lost myself Sir, I wanted to win Sir, I wanted to..."
He cuts off Stone, "Don't worry about it, there's a lot of pressure on all of us. It's been real
quiet lately and I know lots of people are getting anxious. That why we need you at your best,
no more shenanigans."
"Sir, I have to stay sharp out there, I have to stay ready, I was just over won't happen
"Good, because we need good men like you to stay at your best and lead others."
another lunatic...heavens help me...may heaven help us all!)


"Thank you sir." Stone knew that the Commander knew, and he understood that they both
understood, that Stones' display was no accident and that Stone was merely venting pent up
frustration. But they'd both been in war and they knew that crazy was the only type of man
who could ever change the course of a battle.
"You are dismissed...(The C-1 Lynx...What type of hellcat!?

I'm glad I'm too old to fly that

Felicia is an emotional storm, streams of colors wisp by her as she makes her way to her room,
her eyes focused not in front, but within her as the whole world becomes her adversary. (That
kind of gorilla chest beating is what got us into this mess! They'll never make the necessary
leaps to pilot the Lynx series! I'm sure the Commander doesn't even understand how the Lynx
is controlled. Who can teach these men? The earth...) A darkness takes over her heart and
her vision is starting to tunnel...(Am I having a panic attack!) Suddenly next to her someone
grabs her arm. It's a woman, kindly, with her hair in a bun.
"You're not from here are you?" The woman releases her.
"Huh?" It takes Lt. Branstein a brief moment before it hits her that she's actually talking to
another woman on the base!

"Let's get some tea, it looks like your having a rough day..." The lady was so nice.
"Oh, thank you so much!" Felicia using the genuine politeness women are known for, but it
sounds unnatural coming from her.
"I think I've heard about you..."

The two of them went off together to the mess hall.


Stones walking back to the boys and they want to know whats up...They look at him in silence, as
though the fate of the world hung in the balance ...which it may well have...
Stone breaks it..."Her name's Felicia"

All the men start laughing.

It was so simple to them.

"That's so juvenile dude!" Spoon busts out. Everyone stops laughing, an outburst from Bobby
Spoon was a rare thing indeed. "We're in the middle of a crisis." He starts counting on his
fingers. "Berlin, London, Denver, Austin, San Francisco...They're targeting our cities at random,
and you guys just wanna!"
"Hey, Hey..." Patrick steps in waving his hands in defense, trying to smooth things out like a
salesman who's just been caught in a lie.
Spoon was irate.

"Don't give me that crap!"

Stone turns to Bobby in disgust! "You're just scared to ride the new G-Machine.
gonna piss their pants like you!"

Not everyone's

Bobby freezes with a look on his face as though he's just been hit in the stomach. What Ryan
said was right, he was afraid. "That's not what I'm talking about! I take this training serious."
"A little too serious!"

Captain Murphy adds, then the crew starts laughing again.

All of their energy's on Spoon, "Alright, I've had enough of this!"

"Her name's Felicia!" Benson chimes in using a whiny little voice, imitating Bobby.
laughing continues as Spoon storms away.


"Alright Men!" The hairs on Bobby Spoons back stood up at attention. (Commander Wilson!
Its 0900!) Spoon pretends not to hear, and runs off towards the barracks.
"Now what's gotten into him!?" (I tell ya, there's some'tin amiss here) Wilson raises an eyebrow.
Benson and Patrick answer, first at the same time, then PT takes over.
were talking about Lt. Branstein Sr."
Benson finishes. "I think he likes her, Sr."
The other men start to laugh out loud.

"He just got mad cuz' we

The two men could barely contain themselves.

"Next up! Murphy!" (It was smart to remove her.

All this!?

It's hard enough to find an alien

spy amongst these clowns, but with one woman...the standard for normal behavior has been
flipped on its head!)
Murphy takes to the machine, carefully listening to Dr. Bian's instructions: "Align zyour chest
wiz your feets, over zee middle of your feet...Move your butt out." Murphy pauses, he was a
little older and more dignified. Some of the pilots start to giggle but contain it because now's
not the time for that. "Come 'on" Bian waves with his hand in a circle as though he's directing
traffic. "Don't be shy." Even Commander Wilson laughed at that one. "Okay now relax your
shoulders. Use your hips to control the movement." Murphy is able to comfortably turn in
any direction and lean forward about 30 degrees. But if he leans back he'll lose his balance and
spin upside down doing a 180 degree turn leaving him helpless. This is exactly what happened
to most other pilots, although they didn't reach this point in their first five minutes. Murphy
was exceptional, he'd even flown in the first Gulf War. The movements which Murphy
mastered were the goals for the first day of the training. The weakness which Murphy had was
expected and not to be addressed until day 4 in the training schedule.
The day went on and even Ryan Stone had mastered the basic skills of turning in any direction
and being able to lean slightly forward by moving his "chest zand his hips." It seemed a lot
different from Branstein's yoga techniques, but when questioned Dr. Bian would say- "To each
zeir own way, I show you my teznique..." Spoon had been gone most of the day, when he
returned Commander Wilson sent him into Pandora, but not before giving him a short tirade.
Spoon steps into the machine, strapping himself in, it feels really familiar (Just like the dream).
Everyone's silent. Pale expectant faces watch in waiting, as calm lakes which the slightest
disturbance may change to agony.
Spoon stays still, not listening to Bian's instructions. Bian is doing a cha cha cha dance to get
Spoon to move a muscle. No one laughs, it wasn't funny. Dr. Bian was awkward...some
people didn't like him. Suddenly, Bobby realizes that this isn't like his dream; because nobody
is controlling the Pandora, he is free to rest within the twin spheres. Bobby relaxes on his
haunches as though he was bored in school. He sags in his harness and the thing takes off!!!
As he sits back the twin spheres glide forward. Spoon continually in this sitting position rides
halfway up the limiter with his feet facing out, rather than surfing with his feet always facing the
earth. When he reaches halfway up the limiter he does a smooth turn and goes back down the
other way...similar to a skateboarding halfpipe trick. All of the Pilots, as well as Commander
Wilson and Dr. Bian were at awe of his movement ability, far exceeding anyone else's. But in
the same moment everyone had the same feeling of dread as they realized that Spoon would
pick up tremendous speed as he went back down. Everyone gasped as Bobby crossed over the
bottom of the limiter at impressive speeds. Still in the sitting position with his feet facing
outwards, Bobby crouches down lower to increase his speed as he approaches the incline.
Spoon holds on until he gets halfway up then in a burst -shoots out his legs towards the earth
extending all of his limbs like a star. He maintains his center of gravity as the twin spheres
loops around in circles, three of them...then it begins to slow down. The moment was so
beautiful he could cry himself to sleep -He had learned to control it!!!
Before it could stop Bobby shrugged his shoulders and twisted his neck while wiggling his butt
and the thing started going again. Like churning a huge pot of porridge into a whirlpool Bobby
Spoon used leverage and center of mass to keep the twin spheres circling inside the limiter.
First he was just surfing in counter clockwise loops facing the other pilots, looking into their if some form of revenge for earlier. Then he lost interest in them and started surfing
in loops from all angles like an electron around a nucleus. Increasing his speed as much as
possible he was doing a full circle around the limiter every second. Some of the pilots got
scared for him and told Bian to control the machine, thinking that Spoon had lost control.

Spoon shouted.

"I still get 3 more minutes!"

Then he started rotating below the side wall of the limiter. Taking a slower pace, Spoon was
waving his hands in conjunction with his feet and his waist doing circles, spinning on an axis
while traveling along the side of the limiter...much like earth around the sun. His body tilting at
30 degrees, but gyrating as he turns, his spinning somehow keeps him from traveling further
down the limiter wall. He went in circles, like he was tracing a giant stencil flower. His
swimming motion was strange to some of the pilots, but the aces knew it was a battle
technique they must also come to master or die...
Patrick approached Dr. Bian:

"Is that weaving Sir...?"

Dr. Bian grimaces and puts his hand on Patrick's shoulder, "To each zeir own..."
His smile doesn't help Patrick who walks away.
give me a straight answer?)

(...Another strike for Dr. Weirdo...why can't he

Bobby's five minutes is over. Still circling the limiter, he stops moving his arms and his waist
and returns to an erect position with his feet facing the earth. The stresses of the spinning and
the motion on his erect body take a lot of energy. He decides to relax and adjust to a half
sitting position, but this increases his spinning and his speed. In a conundrum Spoon lurched
back and tilted his body forward, the rotation swung him out -wrenching, bringing his center of
mass in motion within the twin spheres! As his body rotates, Spoon shifts his hips and stomps
his legs towards the side wall, aiming with his shoulders towards the bottom of the limiter. He
immediately glides to the bottom in his dive, then kicks out his legs in front to stop himself. He
has a hard time breaking and does another 2 loops before he eventually stops it on the bottom.
Commander Wilson:

"That's all for today.

Good job everyone.

Get a good rest."

Everyone is silent. No one has anything to say: Not Patrick Teetle, not Ryan Stone, not Dr.
Bian. Not even Spoon has anything to say. He looks everyone in the face as he walks past
them, they look different now...maybe he just feels different now...but they can see it too.
They had a new respect for Bobby Spoon, but it was a respect rooted in shock and contempt.
Spoon personally has had enough for the day. That night he went to sleep with tears of joy.
The training went on for the rest of the week, surfing. Every time Spoon went into Pandora he
put on a show, until both he and the other pilots got tired of his superiority. Spoon likes to stay
below the surface, operating in the shadows; he was getting too much attention for his own
liking. And awe, much like respect, is often a cover for darker and less wholesome ambitions.
He could tell which pilots he made angry, frustrated or jealous...he didn't want to be the cause of
such things. He surfed for himself, not to impress anyone...and staying in his own world got
harder the more tricks he showed, the more attention, the more questions he received...
...How do you stay balanced when its in loop-de-loop? How can you change your orientation
so fast? Where do you find the momentum to switch directions? What angle should you

approach the incline? Should I stand with my hips out or in? If I move too fast I lose control?
How do you hold it all together, that things intimidating? Why haven't you broken a sweat
Bobby Spoon was a master, some loved him and others feared him for it. But almost everyone
asked him for advice. It was more helpful than asking Bian, and Lieutenant Branstein, who
being brought on to answer those questions was now out of the picture.
Bobby Spoon
became the resident expert and specialist in using the twin spheres. The only quandary was, of
course, that Spoon didn't have all that much relayable technical information. He just felt it, and
apparently that was more than enough. And being entirely practical, he was so far ahead of
the other pilots, not even breaking a sweat sometimes...he couldn't help them. They needed
someone more technical like Branstein, or the guys just needed more time in the limiter.
(!?) A light bulb flashed above Bobby's head. (What about the dream, maybe if I told them about
the dream they might stop bothering me with these questions.) He's in his quarters, a bottle of
whiskey in hand, he's in a good mood tonight. (Maybe I should just suggest the training method
used in the dream...but don't mention the dream...but they're gonna wanna know where I got
the idea...and who would control the machine? Not in the hands of) "Bian!" he said it audibly,
not too loud he hoped. (What did Bian know? He also described it as something subjective,
to each their own way, he would say...the method...) Bobby knew; he could feel it, but...(why
don't they tell the pilots directly the nature of the method? Is that part of the pilots finding
their own way? Why is it broken down to us technically in manuals when in practice it is
anything but technical? Has this program been tested? What is Ryan talking about when he
talks about everything being an experiment?) Spoon murmurs "Damn, I need to stop drinkin'" He
lays back on his bed (I need to stop flying...what happened to the good ol' days on the farm...) He
takes another swig of whiskey. He did feel content though, having conquered his latest fear he
won't be in a serious crisis until his next battle, and he knew this...but the days would be long,
and he would have to suffer his own intolerance for humanity.
Dr. Bian took over training on the first day of week two, basic wrenching. He would have each
pilot surf as far as they could up the limiter wall, about a quarter ways up, then attempt to
switch directions, the pilot could turn to the left or the right, whichever felt more comfortable to
them. The first goal was to simply turn around and go back down the other side. Spoon sat
out the training, he was in conversation with Commander Wilson:
"I'm thinking about bringing back Lieutenant Branstein..."
"..." Spoon is silent.
"How do you think the "boys" will respond?"
Spoon shoots the Commander a sideways glance, then lowers his head and widens his eyes as he
searches for an appropriate answer. Half shaking his head looking at the ground. "I don't
know Sir. She may be a distraction for them..."
Showing an interest, Commander Wilson leans forward:

"Well, what do you think about her

"Uhhh..." Spoon hesitates with his jaw half open "...I didn't have enough time to study her
technique before I had my go at..."

"Well how did YOU learn it?"

The Commander cut him off, now showing agitation.

"Permission to speak freely Sir.?"

"Granted", the Commander now clearly impatient.
(Oh no, here goes) "It was a dream Sr."
The Commander didn't even look at Spoon, he just looked right past him and waved his arm, "Dr.
Bian!" It takes a second to register with Bian who then quickly hobbles over. Spoon is at
ease. "Okay now, tell the doctor what you just told me." Dr. Bian raises his head as though to
keep his glasses on his face, he looks up at Spoon with a look of curious inquisition, of inspection
and dissection. It was creepy to Bobby, who suddenly felt like a Jew at Auschwitz, or what he
imagined a Jew at Auschwitz to feel like when stared upon by one of those Nazi Scientists.
What country was Dr. Bian from again?
"It was a dream Sir."
With obvious alarm, "What!?, What was zee dream?" (Has he found zee alien, in zee dream.)
"You have found zee alien in zee dream?"
Now Commander Wilson and Spoon both taken aback give the doctor a bewildered look. The
Commander starts: "No doctor, he was going on to say that he learned to use Pandora in a
dream, but I called you over..."
Bobby thinks...(Found the alien in a dream...? It's true we haven't located the Grey Alien base,
and they just randomly appear and reappear through portals which they can create at will,
devastating cities one by one. The notion that they come from another dimension entirely,
from dreams, no way!)
Bobby begins to tell the Commander and Dr. Bian about his dream. He tells them the dream
helped him to get a good feel for the Pandora system through its more rigorous exercises. The
Commander forgets about Lieutenant Branstein for now and instead tasks Dr. Bian and Spoon to
create a training regimen based on Spoons ideas. The Commander returns to the pilots still
training in the twin spheres and tells them to drop the current training exercises and asks them
to freestyle or experiment with their own techniques, all in five minute intervals.
Patrick Teetle was up. He didn't show any originality, doing the same exercise that was being
drilled earlier in the day. No one cared though. Everyone was looking over at Bian and Bobby
Spoon walking away, both with big smiles on their faces like they were best buds. Even Patrick
was watching, (Great, now TWO aliens!) He was only kidding to himself. But in the back of his
mind...he dare not go there.
Spoon was talking to Bian...
Bian: "No, no, no, zee aliens most likely do not come from dreams. We do not know where
they are?" He shakes his finger at Spoon. "But dreams can do many thingz you see. Az you
know." He was smiling, Spoon had never seen the doctor so happy.

"I didn't know the Air Force took dreams so seriously."

Bian: "Of coarse America was very slow to learn theze thingz, or they would not have killed zall
the native americanz! Imagine zee lost potential, for psychic warfare rezearch!" Bian's eyes
widened, he truly was in his own world.

"Who developed the Pandora system?"

Bian: "Aha, you're asking if we made it or if they made it?"

shoulder. "Of course we made it!"
Bobby stops and squats on the ground.

Bian responds:

Bobby stares at the ground and loosens his jaw:

He puts his hand on Spoon's

"Iz something wrong?"

"The Cheshire 1 - Lynx, YOU'VE FLOWN ONE!"


Ryan Stone's cautious approach to Pandora was not noticed by the others. He grabbed the
door of the limiter gently, like the velvety hand of a long lost lover, and with a crooked smile he
walked hand in hand into the cage, easing the door back into place behind him. He bid her
farewell and the door was shut. No one notices this...Ryan Stone's personal romance with
violence and carnage. Since Felicia Branstein left, Stone often thought about her; taking a
liking to Pandora because it reminded him of her. Oh, what a fool he was, but he didn't realize
it until the night after she left training. Since that time he has ruled her out, probably never to
see her again. But the emotion is still there, waiting inside of the twin spheres...calling: Fear
and death, blood and carnage -Martial skill against all odds!
And now Ryan Stone is in a real fight for his life against himself and the fate of humanity hinges
on Ryan Stone in this very moment...Or so in Stone's mind. But he knew, he believed that he
could make a difference and be the difference in the survival of the human race. He had to be.
This opportunity to freestyle within the limiter is his first chance to let loose his instincts since
the first day of training with Lieutenant Branstein. This time, he was taking revenge against
himself for his past failure, and for his future failures. Like the football player who wins games
in the off-season, Stone was doing his off-season work. Taking revenge on himself for
under-performing in the future, a hell of a training mentality...Stone would even pump himself
up by imagining the cry's of unborn children he failed to protect...was he imagining it? In any
case the threat is real; fighting aliens in a life and death struggle to save humanity was much
realer than impressing some woman he wouldn't have the pleasure to see...and he needed to
Stone catches himself hesitating in front of the twin spheres, staring at it like some mystical door
to another dimension. He snaps out of it and hops into the contraption like a pilot who's been
rushed out to intercept. He pauses for three seconds. (Okay, here goes...time to have some
real fun...) An evil grin takes hold of Stone's face. For a brief instant, Stone's face changes to
a bizarre mixture of hate, malice, and joy then switches to a totally blank expression. It was
actually closer to sadness, the tearless face of sorrow shown in the oni masks of samurai. But it
was with this feeling that Ryan Stone set the twin spheres into motion.
He started out quick, surfing forward and back, building up momentum.

"He's going for the Loop de loop!"

Benson yells with his hands at his mouth.

Soon everyone begins to cry, "Loop de loop!"

Fistpumps and all, "Loop de loop!"
Once again Ryan Stone is on the spot, this time he is going to perform. He goes two thirds up
the limiter wall...(just a little farther) Ryan had a secret plan to change his orientation 180
degrees at the top of the loop de loop, essentially approaching the limiter wall face forward,
traveling backwards up the wall toward the ceiling then switching his body weight so he could go
down the opposite end face forward instead of facing backwards. He basically planned to
perform a wrench at the peak of the loop de loop and the 180 turn would leave him traveling in
the same direction at a geometrically increased speed, gnar.
Previously, he didn't have any proper training, now Ryan Stone is going to put surfing and
wrenching together and weave, Marvelous! At three quarters a ways up Stone senses a tinge
of fear then brushes it aside. He can tell that his body isn't adjusted to this type of movement
yet. He's never been this high up in the limiter. In that split second his mind and body had a
disconnect between what he thought he could do, what he planned to do, and what he currently
assessed his present capabilities to be.
"Loop de loop!"

"Loop de loop!"

In time too short to be calculated Ryan Stone swallowed his gut and attempted his turn at the
peak of the loop de loop...he actually intended to wrench at a downward angle to increase his
speed even more. But he shot too early, the downward angle of his 180 degree spin was so
sharp it caused the twin spheres to part from the limiter and ricochet off the opposite edge
making the twin spheres dart directly towards the earth. Like a meteor from heaven, Stone
strikes the limiter floor head first.

It is silent...

Thankfully pilots are harnessed in and provided with helmets cuz' wreck-shits like Stone could
care less. He was in one piece, broken pieces. It was quiet lifting him out of the twin spheres,
all of the Special Air Unit came to help. Ryan tries to work a smile through his hardened face.
(My back is broken...maybe that's how her love feels...) In some strange way Ryan felt blessed.
Though he did not ask for it, he magically felt closer to Felicia. A coolness takes over his body,
his smile becomes full. The smile makes Stone look like a bamf and the pilots respect him for
his sportsmanship.
Patrick was leaning against a pillar beside himself: (Stone's knocked out of training...For
what?...What's next?) Murphy approaches at just the right time and offers Patrick a cigarette.
"You should give it to Stone. He needs it."
"Here, take it!" -Murphy asserts.
With a tired look Patrick Teetle took the cigarette, nobody says no to Captain Murphy twice.
"You know..." Murphy takes a short puff on his cigarette, "during the gulf war we didn't have
all this drama." He pulls back for a long, no b.s. look at Teetle who felt annoyed.

"What drama?"

Teetle pretends to be stupid.

"In retrospect Sadaam was nothing, a duckshoot.

another puff...longer this time.

Now we're facing a real threat."

He takes

Murphy puts his cigarette out against the pillar and walks away without looking at Patrick. He
turns back: "...Anyways..." He haplessly throws up his hands, "We can't fuck this one up."
Patrick lowers his head as Captain Murphy walks away.

Chapter 2:

The Impossible

Spoon is energized:

"The C-2 Meerkat!!!"

"Yes, but zwe do not have any psychics capable, ugh" Bian appeared flustered, he rushed his
words, "We are still developing zee training method, er, regimen, training regimen."
(Why the secrecy?...hmm) Spoon didn't suspect Bian, although it did seem strange.
Bian who continues on like a clumsy foreigner searching for his words.

He scans

"We haz the technology to produce it, but no man haz..." He struggles for words again;
perhaps he was sworn to secrecy. He smiles and slaps his hand on Spoons shoulder, "Maybe
you can be zee first man to try." Bian chuckles.
Spoon didn't think it was very funny.
nobody is capable of using?"

"If there's no way...Why would we produce a weapon that

"Zis is a war! You cannot think like a coward...If zwee can build it zwee must build it!" Bian
was animated using his hands, like he was trying to grab hold of his knowledge and throw it at
Bobby. "Maybe one day zwee may use it. Nothing iz an accident," now holding his index
finger up like a prop in the argument. "Nothing iz to be wasted of our time. Prezently, we are
dezeloping many new and conzeptual!!!"
Sirens blared.

Spoon turns in a catlike stance and faces the siren.

Code red!!!

As a gut instinct Ryan Stone tries to get out of his bed, not a smart move. As he jumps up he
hears another crack in his back, he fucks up and falls on the ground face first. The medical staff
should have heard his scream, but the siren concealed it. Now everyone was rushing to their
emergency one would come. He slams one fist on the hard hospital floor. "fuck!"
He slams both hands at the same time. "Fuck!" The slamming continues..."Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
He snarls for a few seconds..."FUCK!!!" The snarling intensifies... "FUCK!!! FUCK!!! FUCK!!!"

After changing into his gear Bobby Spoon was in a kneeling position with the rest of the Special
Air Unit...
Wilson was red faced: "New Orleans is under attack! There have been five enemy craft
reported! We will transmit the coordinates. Get in your F-22's and Give 'Em Hell!!!"
With that all 19 members of the unit dispersed, plunging into their F-22 Raptors like kids
jumping into a swimming pool. In less than a minute the first of them had taken off. From
Georgia to New Orleans was only a short distance in a supersonic jet, probably shorter in a ufo.
The pilots were all nervous. It was one of those situations where now that the pilots were
airborne, they could expect a bogey from any direction even before reaching the city.

"Keep your eyes on your six."


"I know, we don't really have time to enjoy the sunset."


"Hehe, keep your eyes open."




"Okay guys, we're doing diamond stacked-delta formation, regular groups."

"What about group four Sir?"

A sadness briefly takes over Murphy (...Stone):




"Roger Sir"


(This feels like a trap)


"I got a bad feeling about this..."


(I'm not the only one)


"Messner take point, keep the right flank

"We all do...We'll make it loose when we see the baddies"

The delta formation has five aircraft flying in a V much like geese. A diamond stacked-delta
consists of four deltas, one 1000 feet above the other, and two other deltas extending to the
sides making a diamond of the four points if viewed from the front...The diamond stacked-delta;
there is also the double stacked-delta, loose and tight pyramid formations, chariot circle, twin
linked-chariot formation dubbed "Hell's Nucleus", the flowing river developed by the Chinese, as
well as other formations. The aliens' brains, though advanced, are mathematical in nature and
respond to recognizable patterns and systems. Certain "loose" formations were developed
(through many lost battles) to confuse the alien's brains by obscuring patterns and while moving
in unison. Imagine a school of fish which moves together in order to appear as one larger
creature. A school of fish can change direction as though it is a single fish; some of the more
advanced formations are designed to do this.
The Special Air Unit was designed specifically to use and implement these formations. We
mimicked tactics that prey species use to fool predators. The Grey Aliens have far superior
technology but they lack a connection with nature. This is their only known weakness. The
Russians actually discovered that if they mimicked nature the Grey Aliens became baffled seeing
technology behave in such a way. This bewilderment at what looks like wanton albeit
orchestrated clumsiness causes the Grey Aliens to become overconfident sitting ducks if even for
a brief several moments. It has even been theorized that the Grey Aliens may panic when
encountered with non-mathematical concepts.
The famed Fibonacci Screw developed by the Russians turned the tide of many battles, although
the aliens finally cracked it and found an answer. Such "loose" formations can only be
attempted by the best pilots, maintaining the formation in a firefight requires Aces. The
Chinese developed the flowing river and falling rapids techniques: In the falling rapids
technique, the squadron forms one line or multiple close lines. Its like a relay race with the

whole squadron. The rear pilot accelerates to the front of the line, pulls up then purposely
stalls, falling off to the right or the left as the next pilot comes in behind, pulls up and stalls, then
brakes away. This is continuous, once broken away the pilot decelerates until they are at the
rear again and the cycle continues. Pilots would fire on the enemy when they reached the
front of the line. This is just like the chariot circle, except instead of flying in a constant circle
the pilots are flying in a frayed line. The Chinese have used swarms of 100 pilots or more with
mixed results. Through trial and error the Chinese found the optimal number to be less than
two dozen. Stacked-delta formations could be made loose in a number of ways. Loose Delta
formations were easier to implement. The points (groups) in the formation can rotate around
each other, the ferris wheel. Or individual pilots can circle around each other inside of a group,
to dj. Loose just means in general that the pilots can and are encouraged to change positions
often (who takes point) within their delta groups of five.

"Bogey's spotted, I count two twelve o-clock." Captain Murphy speaks into his radio with a
nonchalant tone. "I want clockwise ferris wheel movement, d.j. it clockwise. Let's tilt that
ferris wheel 45 degrees, gradient at the bottom."

"Nike Formation!"

"Saturn's Rings..." Says James with a nostalgic smile.

The four groups of pilots were circling around each other while the pilots also circled within their
individual groups. This constantly moving formation was tilted at 45 degrees with the
front-bottom containing a curve gradient to a level plane.
The two ufo's could be seen from a distance, one was perfectly still, eerily still. The other
zipped back and forth in the sky further in the distance over the city. The ufo zipped, much like
a didn't seem to fly in the air as much as it was being warped upon some
predetermined line or path. It seemed to move according to its own laws; not a part of time
and space, but merely in time and space along set lines like an odd etch-a-sketch toy from when
we were kids. What in gods name...? It takes a brat below the suns wrathful glare to not shit
his pants upon facing such foes, but such men were these...the Aces.
As the formation approaches the city the sitting duck starts to move, it darts left to the
southeast. It is immediately replaced by two other ufos that seemingly came from the north
and southwest, but they came in so fast -who could say where they came from? The zipping
ufo is continuing its movement, dropping an occasional fission bomb on the population.

"Hold formation! Anyone have confirmation on our buddy to the southeast?"

The two new ufo's were waiting in position, hovering, awaiting the squadron apparently.

"What about those guys?"

"Hold formation!

Hardy cries with a start:



Bottom section fires at will!"



"That's You Messner!"

"Here goes!"

The ufo from the southwest takes a few hits and slowly veers to the side as Messner transitions
to the next pilot, Peters, who happens to land a missile. This scuttles the craft and it wobbles
down towards the earth in a blanket of smoke. The ufo from the north slowly begins to
accelerate away towards the zipping ufo but takes a hit. It then zooms towards the zipping ufo
and stops in close proximity. They both halt and have a sort of ufo pow-wow or communion.
The bombing ceased as these two crafts decided what to do...

"Watch'em they're gonna scram."

"Hold fire, wait until we get closer!"

As the formation approaches firing range the two ufo's split in opposite directions, gone!

"CRAP! Lost'em!"

Murphy: (Our buddy to the southeast!)

180! transition to screw formation!"

"Lets flip the formation 6 o-clock!

Organic Shift

Before the formation could change direction, where the edge split off appeared the bogey ready
to pick-off. It came from the east, striking at the top tip and most isolated portion of a
formation mid-transition. Hardy's wing got clipped, straight phased off.
Hardy: "Gack!!!" He is in a hydrofoil crash-esque rotation with no way to balance and no
option but to use all wit and guile, strength and wile to eject, which he promptly does. But
with one problem...or should one say two, his plane is bound to fall upon the formation beneath
him, and secondly, so is he.

"Watch for Hardy!"


"It's raining shrap!"

The pilots corkscrew and barrel roll around the ejected pilot, the blowback from the wind makes
Hardy toss around in the sky thus making him a harder object to avoid. He flutters like a leaf in
the wind ready to be blown apart by gusts of flying metal. Pilots that flew underneath would
blow him upwards, ensuring that he remains in the flight path of his unit until the last of them
was clear. He felt like a buoy in a hurricane.
When the last one was clear Hardy was still in a fix. His attached seat and parachute was in a
death roll, a corner of the parachute was shredded from the forces. The death roll was slow,
only about a spin a second, slow enough for Hardy to assess the situation. He reaches for a
knife and cuts the line. This causes him to do somersaults in freefall while attached to his seat.
He needs to reach the spare parachute located on the back of the seat. He reaches with his
knife to cut himself free. The blade catches a snag and he loses his grip. The blade ricochets
off the seat as it flutters away at hundreds of miles per hour. "Snap!" Hardy desperately
attempts to undo his strap buckles while still in a rotating freefall. He has a single minded
focus. (This isn't harder than G-machine algebra tests!) He thinks to himself as he undoes the

strap on the left.

other strap!

He can see the ground approaching fast!

He won't have time to undo the

Hardy jerks his left shoulder and hip and grabs the emergency chute behind him, his right side
still stuck in the seat. (I can't get out now...only one choice!) Hardy positions himself back
into his set and hooks the seat straps and parachute straps together with his elbows. He made
a seal with his arms then stretched out his neck and bit down on the cord on the front of the
parachute. He heard a burning whistle and the chute was out! No more than three seconds
later he hit the ground with a thud. He landed on his back in a special carriage like a baby
brought in by a stork and sprained his tailbone in the process...But Hardy was focused on the sky
above, viewing the ensuing battle like highlights from a boxing match you couldn't afford to
watch on pay-per-view.
But alas! The explosions in the sky above could be witnessed for a
brief instant before Hardy's parachute canvas fell upon him, blocking his view. It wasn't until he
got the parachute off him and freed himself from his seat that Hardy realized that he'd landed in
someones backyard.




"Bogey down."


(That's for Hardy!)


"That's two down, three to go."

Angel was not the man's real name, but if the life of a man can be believed...Angel can choose
such a name for himself as he pleased. Bruce Griffith was his name. This man was no
ordinary pilot, of course, but his military background can be traced back to his time in the boy
scouts. During his time there he discovered a new species of frog in the mountains of Virginia.
His pedigree came from a long line of adventurers and who's who's of things if you are in the
know. A man whose cousin killed an eagle with his bare hands for "trying to take his fish". A
man who, in his prime, could crack a jawbreaker with his bare hands. A man whose father
could, with his bare hands, change a tire without using tools. Whose grandfather had been
with the Rough Riders with Teddy Roosevelt and whose grandfather on his mothers side had
fought alongside The Cockroach, Poncho Villa. A man who could use his mouth to tie a knot in
a paperclip. A man whose brother had served food to the queen of England and whose uncle
invented a process for making colloidal diamond. A man whose sister was a world champion
baton thrower and whose sister in law was a tribal elder of an Indian tribe. Whose mother was
the first woman to run a freemasonry chapter in Idaho and whose grandmother was a working
lady who was well acquainted with Woodrow Wilson, Henry Ford, Calvin Coolidge, Charlie
Chaplin, and F. Scott Fitzgerald, amongst others. The man, Bruce Griffith, Angel, the man who
had discovered a crack in a dam while chaperoning on his kids school field trip. The man who
calls sports radio stations to spread misinformation on the horse races, setting in panic and
changing the spread on the bets...he makes a lot of money on those days...

"Where are they?"

"They're, they're gone!"


"Calm Down Jackson!"


"Let's do a chariot circle over the city...that will show dominance over the area."


(No, no, no, that's a bad idea, we should stick together)





"Spoon hurry up and join the circle, what are you doing?


Spoon had taken out a flask of whiskey stored in his jacket. He manages to get in a swig while
coasting for a bit. He leans back in his seat and stares at the sky. Streaks of yellow, white,
blue (I'm not going to die here, the sky is so beautiful...not today) Silhouetted across the sky
he sees 3 black shapes creating three ominous shadows.
Spoon: "Sir we have bogey directly above us Sir."
fear got to him, he could not even yell.

His voice almost cracked as he said it, the




"I think he said there's a bogey above us sir."

for sure.

"There's a bogey above us?!"

Murphy's voice rose in alarm, he was caught off guard

Murphy: "That's eight fucking bogey's!" Surely enough, the three had increased to eight in
no time. With consternation on his face hiding his boiling over determination. "What are
they planning? Are they watching us?" It was not the response the other men expected from
their squadron leader, but Murphy was tough as nails and cold as a glacier underneath the
Fischer is fidgety in his seat:

"...Orders Sir?"

Murphy: "Keep circling! I'm gonna radio Georgia.

want to alert them before reinforcements arrive..."
Murphy's on the radio:
Radio Operator:

"We have increased dosage."

"Is it arithmetic, exponential, geometric, or scalar..."

"Exponential in nature...possibly geometric, their entry point hasn't been located"

Typing can be heard from the radio operator:


"We're sending D & F squadrons to assist, eta 12

"Thank you, over and out"

Radio Operator:

Don't fucking budge an inch, we wouldn't


"Sure thing, you guys stay safe out there, over."

Radio Operator:

"...hey it's your turn to hang up..."

Radio Operator:


"Haha, yeah...I've just been given the order to keep the line open."

"On whose orders?"

"This is Commander Wilson, do you have visual confirmation of their gate location?"


"No sir."

Wilson: "I want you to find it before our boys get there.
need more intel."

I don't send kamikaze pilots.


Murphy grins: (finally, we're starting to run this ship a little tighter, even if it means suicide)
"Roger Sir. Consider it done. Spoon!"



"Do have visual confirmation of their gate?"


"...not yet..."

Murphy: "Alright squad, we've been ordered to..."

cockpit "...Ahhhhhh!!!" -vaporized.

A phase round lands directly in Murphy's




Jackson shakes violently in his cockpit, writhing and striking at the air. Angel looks out his
window, his disgust at the world could make him gag and yack an all consuming breath of fire.
"Murphy!" -Ryan Stone felt a calmness take over him, his own struggle lapsed when in that brief
moment he thought of Murphy. He knew now that something had happened to Murphy.
Now he had a different reason to beat his fists on the ground. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Spoon was in horror, like a bad acid trip that just got worse. The squadron was ordered to find
the enemy warp gate before reinforcements arrive...being under attack and losing the
commanding officer made no difference. Messner assumed command.
Messner: "Tighten the circle and immediately shift to a double helix formation, climb altitude
FAST!!!" The circle of F-22's began to close and narrow into two separate streams as they flew
upward, climbing altitude gradually like a mountain road, slithering upwards as two snakes
dancing around each other. "Benson, Teetle and Stone, Stone!, I mean Spoon! Benson,
Teetle, Spoon, I want you to separate from the formation and try to locate their jumper. Go on
a 15 second reconnaissance then fold back in, next will be...Fischer, James, & Harper..."

"Angel! Angel!!"

As quickly as it had formed Angel had split off on his own veering towards the center of the helix,
flying directly upwards. A spearhead, he launched what would look like a fountain shooting in
the air, his missiles, aimed at the eight perched ufo's.

"I see..."



Right on boy!"

Angel had selected four different targets, the missiles landing simultaneously from beneath.
Angel veered off to a level plane as the eight ufo's split in all directions. Angel had pursued and
scuttled two of them, with the help of Teetle who was nearby. The spiral continued upwards
until it was at the same altitude of the scattered ufo's. The formation leveled out to a chariot
circle at the appropriate altitude. Benson, Teetle and Spoon re-entered the formation, Angel
circled the formation on the outside going in the opposite direction, like a guardian angel over
the whole formation. He was not ordered to do this, but as he just saved everyone's
ass...Messner did not question his judgment or especially Angel's instincts.

"Okay, what now?"


"We wait for the good ol' boys to come back."


"I don't like that idea..."


"Angel, Angel what's the plan?"

"No plan...Messner?"


"We shouldn't just wait here, any ideas Angel?"

"We can split up and go hunting in small squads..."

"Yeehaw!" Benson was riled up. "Finally we can go on the offensive!"


"Roger, form squads of four, lets find their jump gate, north, south, east, & west."
"A fifth squad will hold the center and be on hand to reinforce."
"That would be your squadron sir?"
"Yes, now commence reconnaissance!"

The four groups of four disappeared in the four directions as the fifth squad, Fischer and
Messner lay in wait, holding their position over the city.

"Interesting day huh?"

"You can say that...lets keep our eyes on the prize."

"Yes Captain." Fischer was very close to sounding condescending.

Then his voice changes

almost to a plea.

"Hey Captain?"

"What do we do if we're attacked sir?"

Fischer asks as his voice balances out.

"We need to set the rally point for our reinforcements..."



"Lets hope we don't suffer an assault before reinforcements arrive."

"I get it," Fischer's voice changes to that of a new york city wise guy:, "so we're sitting ducks out
here ay'"
His voice is back to normal:

"Just perfect!"

Messner could only think about Captain Murphy. The way Fischer said Captain...Messner
wasn't used to being called Captain yet. Boy, Messner sure did want reinforcements to get
there quick. (What would Captain Murphy do?)

Squadron two dances through the night sky, loose as its called. Just like the tavern in the
middle of a dark foreboding wood, as one approaches the sound of laughter and cheers could be
heard through the hoots of the owls. Such was this party, this small squadron. Up in the air
of the upper stratosphere was a roast of epic proportions, and such chuckling and heartfelt
laughter that the sound of the pilots could be heard faintly amidst the breeze as the jets flew by.
They are secret jokes, just like the songs of the tavern in the wood, the wind can hear but a few:

"So what do you call a grey alien's toe jam?"

"Ha, ha, wha, wha, what?"
"Space Jam!"

Marshal: "Dude, that was a movie! I'm gonna fuckin', alright, alright.
and asks a dude to suck his dick for 30 dollars."

"So she's paying him?"


"Yeah, she offers to pay him 30 dollars to suck his dick."


"Must have been that dude's luck day."




"But he didn't take it."





This girl walks into a bar


"Cause he didn't wanna wait in line."




"Aw man, that shits eternal dude."



Benson & Marshal:


What do you call a man with no lighter?"


"A pothead."




"I don't get it."


"What do you call a man with no t.v.?"




"A tweaker."


"Okay, what came first, the chicken or the egg?"
"This fuckers crazy."
"Cocks and chicks."


"This fuckers stupid dude."


"Cocks and chicks, that's a good one."


"Yeah, that is pretty good."


"Okay, here goes."

"Jackson!" Marshal shrieked in surprise. Jackson was a total square, and the last one Marshal
expected to jump in. Jackson's voice sounds really nerdy, like Richard Simmons.

"Knock Knock"


"Aw man! oh my god!"




"Hehe...he's doing a knock knock joke."

"Come'on guys!"
"Alright, come'on."
"Knock knock"


"Knock hehe knock"


"Knock knock hehe knock knock"


"You're supposed to say who's there...uhhhh, who's there?"


"Guess who?"


"Guess who's there?"

"Guess who's there who?"


""Guess who's there who"'s not a real name!"

Teetle, Benson and Marshal all get in on it now, the agitation and anxiety is building up.
TBM: "Then who is it?"


"Joker who?"


"Jokes on YOU!"

Jackson begins laughing to himself.

Benson who felt confused.

Marshal chuckles as well.

Teetle didn't like it, neither did

"That wasn't funny."

"Yeah, that wasn't funny Jackson.

You're out of it now!"

Said half in jest, everyone busted up laughing at Jackson's exclusion, even Jackson. They were
oblivious in the sky, too carefree of their present danger. Was it a weakness...? Surely every
man brings their own plan to the world. Whose plan shall see fruition is up to the
they say. But the two opposing schools of thought, that of adaption, and that of willpower
have their even expression amongst all men. A smart man balances both the actions of
imposing ones will indefinitely and the methodology involved in passing to the shadows as an
observer. The adapter is the gunslinger who we all know: one is quicker to react.
He who imposes their willpower is the blitzkrieg, shock and awe tactician -who sets an event in
motion then changes the event before an ample response is organized to the initial threat. As
the chain reaction continues, one that imposes their will retains pre-emptivity in all actions so as
long as each action is immediately followed up and leveraged by an even more unpredictable
circumstance imposed by the actor. When the two schools of thought are united one cuts
through the world like a knife. Also, imposing ones willpower upon oneself in a disciplined way
creates effective and unstoppable action in the outside world. In other words, adaption to
circumstances and implementation of willpower are fused. Any adaptive move is backed up by
the will, and thus becomes unstoppable. Observation is used to make better adaptions within
a shock and awe strategy. A mans mind is a complex machine of many parts. Willpower is
the strongest force out there, but a nuanced willpower is often the difference between life and
death, safety and mishap, slavery and freedom, victory and defeat. A man must operate like a

power drill, able to use all of its strength at the flip of a switch, whose motor immediately knows
its limit upon acting, and either finishes the job or refuses to rotate. It is one that can rotate in
both directions and can also change drillbits to fit different jobs. This is the nuanced willpower.
All of these men were power drills, the Aces.

Squadron three flew silently through the evening sky. There was a silent tension, Spoon, Angel,
Peters, and Gonzales were flying to the north, almost towards the direction of base. Flying
towards base meant that they would possibly join with reinforcements sooner. This provides
no comfort though, as the men are all too aware the reinforcements are suspiciously late.
Angel and Spoon had a bone to pick with each other; they had both disobeyed orders, yet it was
their actions that led to the current situation. No one would speak of it, everyone felt as
though they were being watched.

"Where are the stinkin' reinforcements!"


"Any ideas Bobby?"

Spoon calls nonchalantly on the radio in his smooth southern tone: "Report to base this is
Squadron 3 heading north from New Orleans. What is the status on the reinforcements?
We're looking for a possible vector to join with your unit."
Shouts, screams, yells, distortion, and then static is heard on the other end with no response.

"Messner come in!


Dammit Messner!"

"Yessir, You found the jump gate!?"

"No, communications with base are cut off, they might be under attack."


"What the'!"

"Okay, I want you to search for the jump gate."

"Oh shit!


I see it! It's above base!"

"It's under attack!"


"There must be 40 bogeys and counting!"



Angel had gone mad, he sounded like some sort of monster!

From the looks of it reinforcements never had the chance to get off of the ground. A great oval
was in the sky with tapered ends, like the shape of an eye. It was as bright as the sun except it
didn't have rays. It had a small foggy aura of a peachy color. The color deepened towards the
center to a darker shade of orange and the texture also changed as well: From foggier along
the outside of the oval and gradually becoming more and more solid towards the middle. The
outside edges merged with the sunset and were ethereal in nature, more wispy and cloud like,
but also composed of light energy. Towards the center the transition was so seamless it baffled
the mind. The orange middle of the oval looked like it was made of paper. The portal was flat
and there was nothing behind it or above, but somehow the solid center piece was a part of the

portal and the ufo's came through what looked to be completely solid.
It seemed like a mere
illusion. How the ufo's fly in and out of a portal that appears solid in the center remains a
This giant beige eye in the sky was large enough to accustom as many ufo's as it needs. The
particular alien technology expands and contracts on a fractal level, never changing its shape.
The shape of the portal matches the ufo like a sheath so an individual ufo can use the portal
discreetly, but can also be expanded to empty a whole army on the battlefield at once. The
portal itself was a flat color; like a wall, nothing could be seen through it. Even ufos that flew
through it could not be traced either coming in or going out past the portals surface.
As squadron three approaches the base, they see the anti-aircraft guns waging a tough fight.
The portal was the size of four football stadiums. Some ufos waited, moving laterally along the
surface of the portal; only half of their bodies were visible, the half-saucers looked like shark fins
sticking out of the water in the ocean...they definitely gave the same impression.
Waiting...waiting...watching. Others flew in and out, waiting on the surface of the portal and
launching attacks from there. There was a sloppy yet constant flow of ufo's going in and out,
but over time more and more came. "Ant's popping out of an anthill going after the
sugar"-Like Captain Murphy would say.
The anti-aircraft guns focused their fire on the portal itself, tagging countless greys as they
attempted to pass in and out through a firestorm. No more than 30 seconds out from the base
squadron 3 arms their missiles, ready to intercept and defend the anti-aircraft positions. No
one gave them these orders...but outnumbered they flew into the firefight ten to one. they arm their missiles something occurs...


With no chance to communicate, all the dials on Major Griffith's F-22 go haywire, as with
Spoon's, Peters' and Gonzales'. Every meter and gauge was getting more disfunct by the
instant. All electronics were fried along with basic flight controls.

"You gotta be kidding me!"

A strong feeling presses in everyone's gut as the sky blackens. Not just the sky, but the very
world itself was growing darker by the second, even the cockpits of their aircrafts.

(Is it a hallucination?)


(I'm going to hell!)

"Come'on! Come'on!"

Angel struggles hopelessly to get the system back online.

"Fuck this!" Peters ejects, the last mechanical function on his F-22 that still worked.
Everything was dark and getting even darker until it subsided and the sky was clear again. (I
must've been blacked out from the ejection) When he thought back on it he realized it didn't
make sense. (What happened?)
Spoon and Gonzales had also ejected during the darkness which lasted an eternal four seconds.
Angel had the pleasure of seeing his dials return to normal as his craft and his vision both

recovered simultaneously. The darkness was of no wonder to Angel, strange indeed, but all the
stranger was the current situation...The portal was shrinking rapidly as a handful of zippers glide
in at the last moment escaping explosions that covered the whole of the sky.
Angel radios Messner: "Captain, I've lost contact with Spoon, Gonzales, and Peters.
have ejected. The portal has also disappeared."
Messner: "Oh we found the portal! It just showed up!
They're flying out of there like silly string!"

They may

Get back here and reinforce us!

Surely enough, as quickly as the portal had vanished over base it appeared again over the city,

"Where are reinforcements?"

"I'm on my way."

"What about base?...gack...grr..."


Messner was multitasking in a firefight.

"No bueno."

Messner: "Fischer what's the time on the other squads?

freakin' aliens!"

Gosh, stay out of my hair you

It turns out the aliens weren't after Fischer and Messner, but New Orleans. The two pilots did
what they could to stall the bombardment, weaving between ufo's and bombs, flanking every
opponent as they ascended after a bomb run. It was a system of attrition, the greys went right
past the F-22's disregarding their own losses and focusing entirely on the city.

"e.t.a. three minutes sir.

I'm all you got baby."

"That makes me feel good."

"It's still a duckshoot."

Messner: "Grrrr....yah...urrr...yeah for them and for us...I just don't think I have three minutes
worth of missiles left." (Somehow I get stuck with it, Murphy where are you?)

James leads squadron one over a blanket of clouds. The portal could be seen far in the
distance. It was beautiful, he wouldn't lie to looked almost mystical, but what came
out was death. "All right boys lets scalp em, cut em off from above, we are to support New
Orleans." (Ah, not too bad, I'll get my two minutes of sunset in.) Pearls of saucer shaped
brilliance reflect the sun above the clouds and flow down like tears from the great portal eye in
the sky. It was time to wipe the tears. James took point.
Squadrons two and four approached from the west and the east respectively. James and
squadron one arrived at about the same time. This sandwich caused confusion amongst the
enemy. They ceased their bombings. The aliens who had ambushed the city were now being
ambushed from all directions. All things considered, the special air unit had their way with the
greys at that moment. What had been more than 50 bogeys was reduced to less than a dozen

in no time. The few remaining ufo's were focused only on evasion, making them impossible to
pinpoint and defeat.

"Why don't they retreat through the gate?"


"Why aren't they being reinforced?"


"They're stalling us!

Everyone focus your fire on the gate!"

But it was too late...the jump gate was already flooded with reinforcements, they were only
waiting and watching, halfway exposed in this dimension. There must have been at least 200;
you couldn't count them. They were stacked like spanish tiles flush with the jump gate, one
didn't know how many lay behind because there was no way to tell. Deja vu, once again it was
death from above, just like what happened to Captain Murphy. Only this time, it wasn't eight
bogeys, it was 200.

"Retreat to where? Base has been compromised.


"Order a retreat."

"With what ammo?

"Good point.

I say we nail the fuckers."

We have to retreat."


They flew north with full afterburners, but it wasn't fast enough. The ufo's descend and give
chase. Fission bombs, phasers, and lasers rained from above barely missing James as the rest
of Squad one was singed to a crisp. He approached from the south frantically trying to catch up
with the other squads. Using general evasive maneuvers the syncopation of his movements
was such that he dodged attacks without looking behind him. (What good is this?) James
banks left and enters into the horde of ufos, blazing his machine guns shooting wild. The aliens
had forgotten about the city and were now focused entirely on James.


"We're not here to save our own's all those people down there."
disappeared into the throng of ufo's.

James' plane

Marshal and Fischer bank first, everyone else follows as the entire special air unit turns back to
support James. No one one expected to survive either.

"Oh fuck, not now!"

Just as had happened earlier, the dials and thingamajiggers all went bonkers as a sickness grows
in their guts and the world blackens a few tints. Time seems to slow down. James sees ufos
draped in darkness as black beads in murky water. Then there is fire, out of the darkness every
single ufo flares up in an amazing explosion, illuminating the dark world. James could have
swore he saw a black spear dart across the sky triggering the chain reaction as the ufos blew up
in order like dominoes, though so sudden it appeared to be all at once. The sky brightened
again. The bogeys were gone, the portal was gone. James was still alive.

Chapter 3:

Trapped in the Rubble

Ryan Stone awoke to the feeling of cool water passing by his left shoulder, subconsciously he
could hear the rain but the pain in his back took precedence in his consciousness. He had a
massive headache from the pain, he didn't want to think. The water flowing across his
shoulder flowed down his arm to his hip and legs, he could feel more water accumulating on the
other side. A touch of water tickles his nose and he accidentally inhales some. Coughing and
gagging, Ryan Stone decides to address the situation and wake up. He could feel a few droplets
of water landing on different parts of his back, HIS BACK!!!
"Awe man..." Ryan recalls the events of the previous day. What had begun as a career ending
training session spiraled into a cataclysm; the alarm rang and he fell out of bed then the base
came under attack. Stone shimmied and scurried sideways to get underneath his hospital bed
for safety. That was the last thing he remembered...From the looks of it now the roof had
collapsed and Ryan lay trapped under the safety of his metal frame cocoon. All he could hear
was rain.
Life is truly astonishing. Yesterday he was a proud pilot ready to take on he is a
cripple trapped in the rubble
...(Felicia)...Ryan closes his eyes and calmly goes back to sleep, the rain was soothing.

The Special Air Unit was ordered to land in Florida, Cape Canaveral.
The men lined up in front of their F-22's. Wilson was standing in front of the units for the
debriefing. It was odd. Wilson was with Bian, somehow both of them had escaped the attack
on the base and ended up in Florida even before the Special Air Unit, fishy. Not all the men
cared to notice, but Patrick did.
A strange sound appeared on the runway behind them, but the men were at attention and
couldn't look back to see what it was. The agitation showed on the men's faces. Commander
Wilson's face was flush as he looked past the men at the black dart landing on the runway. It
made a harmonic sound like the low vibration of a bee's wings. Wilson stopped his speech for
a second. It was a break with protocol, the men understood and quickly turned their heads to
look at the new aircraft. It was all black and shaped like and arrowhead, something new. All
the men immediately returned their gaze to Bian who had continued Wilson's speech, all but


(I saw that! The black spear, I wasn't sure it was real!)

growing louder in the background.


James could hear Wilson's voice


James slowly turns his head back to Wilson who looked at him with passionate eyes. James
had a smirking grimace; Was he the only one that saw it? What the hell is going on here?

"75% of zee base has been destroyed.

The city of New Orleanz is 95% destroyed.


Grey force waz eliminated completely. Now! We must remember to always be on guard, zee
aliens will not give us a second chance. There are certain things we would like to know!"
The humming in the background recedes.
Bian: "Az you know, Lieutenant Spoon and Captain Griffith are very bad at following orders and
very good at finding aliens...We will be talking to you and azking you a few quest..."
No one listened to Bian. Felicia Branstein had just walked up to Wilson's side and saluted him.
They exchanged a few words, then she stood at ease next to the Commander. She had come
from the direction of the new flying machine...James knew immediately and he had trouble
containing himself: "NO WAY!!! I thought she was gone!"
Everyone turns to look at James, wondering what had gotten into him, and wondering what
Commander Wilson was going to do about it. Lieutenant Branstein's face was totally blank but
she still managed to have a shining haughty confidence about her.
Wilson: "We will be talking to you as well James.

Everyone else, I want you to file a standard

(Something's not right about this...)

(That's it?

Time for some chow.)

Spoon Landed fifteen miles to the south of base. He was by the highway, not a single car was
to be seen. It was a ghost road, he walked down the middle of it towards base. Thinking
back, he couldn't put his finger on what exactly had occurred. The whole battle seemed a blur.
(Dammit!) His flask had fallen out of his jacket during the ejection, now he has nothing to
drink, not even alcohol. (I hope everyone's okay...) Peters was close, he saw his parachute
but he didn't see Angel's or Gonzales'. To keep his spirits high he sings to himself; it calmed
him down and kept his mind focused, a technique his mother taught him in the 80's. He picks
up his pace to a slow jog. (I gotta find Peters!)
Behind him the city was still smoking; rain mixed with ash to create a grey sludge that enveloped
everything. Visibility was bad...he tricks his mind into thinking it was normal and continues to
scan the landscape for people. "You have to believe we are magic, nothing can stand in our
way...have to believe we are magic, don't let your aim ever stray!" He sees a shadow in the
distance, it could have been a person. "Hey!!!" Bobby Spoon wasn't sure if he even actually
saw anyone. It was too far for sound to travel in this weather. He yells again, "Hey!!!" The
image disappeared into the mist. He begins to run in the direction of the figure. "Hey!!!
Hey!!!" He was sure of it now, he could feel him, someone, Peters! "Hey!!! Hey!!!" Bobby
screaming at the top of his lungs, the shadow re-emerges as the shape of a man. "Hey!!!"
The upright figure pauses, then slowly makes his way back the 200 yards between them as his
movements become more upbeat. The shape of a man becomes a man, and as an apparition
made real, Peters was standing before Spoon with a nonchalant albeit bewildered look on his
face. They shake hands, the manly handshake where they grab each others forearms.
Spoon squints his eyes, tilting his head back and prepares himself for the worst:
seen Angel or Gonzales?"

"Have you


"I haven't seen Angel."

Bobby's eyes widen as his lower lip curls into a frown:


Peters slowly shakes his head. Without a thought they both pick themselves up emotionally
and immediately head towards base. Their training was very effective. The events of
yesterday were already in the past and it wasn't going to stop them from taking their time
getting back to base. Why rush?

"You got a cigar on you man?"


"That I do, I got two."

Peters takes out his one cigar and breaks it in half:

"Here you go, you got a lighter?"

"Spoon was disobeying orders when he saw the enemy unit, correct!?" Angel was in a
meeting, being chewed out by Wilson. Somehow Bian and Wilson were trying to suggest that
Angel and Spoon were in cooperation with the Greys and were responsible for the losses of that
day. Rather than get offended, Bruce was simply baffled at the absurdity and wondered at the
line of thinking of his superiors. They were like two cheap salesmen trying to sell him the story
in order to cover something up. Bruce Griffith has a nose for these things, remember, he is also
a conman.
Not knowing Spoons current condition, Bian did all he could to pry knowledge from Angel.
Bian had taken a liking to Bobby because of his unique abilities which Bian wanted to
Angel: "Dr. Bian, with all do respect, I have no clue what Captain Bobby Spoon was thinking at
the time."
"Are you getting smart with us?" Wilson leans over on Angel's desk to impose himself. Angel
send a menacing glare directly at the Commander who backs off and crosses his arms, looking
out the window.
"But how did he know the direction of the UFO's, tell me, how!?"
was ugly.

Bian was losing control, it

Suddenly an awesome feeling of dread hits Angel: (Is this sucker an alien?) "Get out of my
face! We lost some good men, some good men out there, all you care about is you data!?"
Wilson's face flares up as he turns back to Angel:

"Major You Are Out Of Line!"

Angel snaps: "Enough of this shit! Why don't you explain how you two escaped the base so
conveniently, like you knew the attack was coming!" They tried to stop him but he kept on
going, "What happened to reinforcements! You asked us to find the gate first! You just sent
us out there to find the gate! NOT TO DEFEND THE CITY!!!"
Wilson's face visibly relaxes, he didn't suspect Angel was so smart. He tries to calm Bruce
down: "The Greys attacked the city to lure us out in order to locate the base."


"Bullshit, you knew we were going to get attacked!"

Bian steps in:


It was getting ugly; Commander Wilson looked outside the window again. He stared at his
niece, Felicia. She was surrounded by the men. They were jovial, she tried to escape but they
grabbed her and raised her on their shoulders. Then they got a parachute and used it to fling
her in the air in celebration. The men grabbing the outside with her in the middle: She
started with fistpumps then began doing acrobatics as the men shot her up again and again
shouting hurrah. (...So they all know...)

"You're some Nazi scientist!"

Wilson: "Listen Griffith! It's true, the Special Air Unit was used as bait.
your duty. We still need to study their portals..."
Angel sits with his arms crossed, staring into space:

Following orders is

"I want no part of it."

Bian: "Alienz attack zee city with a small force. Zwee must respond, but only with a small
force so as to avoid a possible trap. Zee alienz found the base and attacked with their main
force! Then we can counter attack..."

"Sounds like you sacrificed the base too."

Wilson: "We had to expose and find the alien's main force, the Greys neutralized the base
leaving New Orleans defenseless for their whole onslaught."
Angel: "I thought you were looking for the jump gate?
Orleans to study their jump gates?"

"NO, it's not like that."


"That's what you just said!

Then tell me, how is it?

So you sacrificed the city of New

What is it like?"

Bian and Wilson both let off a sigh and take a step back.
"Sounds like we're just responding to them. I'm a man of action, not a lab rat." (Stone is right,
maybe he's not paranoid) Angel laughs to himself, then he sighs too. "We should get these
suckers now."
Wilson recedes behind Bian.

(He's right, but we can't even locate them!

We're losing this

"Not only their jump gate, but also zee alien psychology, the sacrifices of the Russians..."

Angel: "Screw their damned psychology, you can't study the psychology of something that's
Wilson tries to appeal to Bruce:


"Hmph!" Angel snorts. "I'm outta here."

Bian tries to stop him from leaving but Wilson lets him go.

"There's nothing we can do,"


Bian hisses:

"ZZZ But it is a waste!

We have learned nothing!"

The black aircraft was the Cheshire 1 Lynx, the new aircraft for which the limiter was designed.
The explosions in the sky had been caused single handedly by the Ace pilot Felicia Branstein in
her C - 1 Lynx, once over the base, and also over New Orleans when the enemy forces were
annihilated. The fighter was developed using acquired alien technology and integrating it into
modern weapon systems. Its main weapon is a plasma ray which has an adjustable radius; the
pilot can also control the power output and intensity. The ray also has a fixed range adjustable
by the pilot. The pilot can pulse the ray in short burst that lasts fractions of a second, this is
usually done to conserve energy, although it is not necessary. The range extends different
distances depending on power output and total area of the beam. The radius can be more
than 50 meters or shrunk down to the size of a laser pointer. The ray has an adjustable
frequency as well, allowing it to focus energy sharply, or on a gradient scale. The frequency can
be changed to leave the center of the beam hollow, having a strong thin layer around the outside
of the cylinder. The beam can also be focused on the center and outside at the same time,
leaving a middle ring open for friendly aircraft -that is how James was saved. Many things are
possible with this particular system but it is not the plasma ray which makes the C - 1 Lynx an
extraordinary fighter.
The Cheshire 1 Lynx was designed to rival the movement of the Grey's ufos. When the C - 1
Lynx pulls five g's or more the pilot can hit a special switch which puts "the craft" in an altered
state of consciousness. Once activated, the craft must continue to face the same direction. In
this altered state the craft can move in any direction and change directions at blinding speeds,
but it must continue to face the same direction as when the switch was hit. When the switch is
turned off, the airplane will continue in whatever vector it was traveling under the altered state.
The switch is normally used for a few seconds at a time. The pilot can link several of such
sequences together, changing the front facing direction each time, weaving. But the pilot must
be weary...Staying in the altered state too long will expend all of the crafts energy and it will not
be possible to return the plane's consciousness to normal, trapping the pilot in the alternate
reality forever...Not for kids. But such men were these...or should I say, women.
The difficulties of piloting the Lynx were many. First off, pulling five g's is no cakewalk, quite a
bit of maneuvering needs to be done to activate the altered state. The altered state itself has a
physiobiological effect on the pilot -causing headaches, stomach aches, nausea, even neurosis
and psychosis while the switch is on. Stranger yet, the plane itself affects the world around it,
oppressing time and space to make room for its maneuvers. This causes electrical interference
and even optical interference from sunlight, not to mention gravitational anomalies in the
surrounding area. This happens only while the switch is on, of course. When the switch is off,
the plane flies very much like other aircraft. There is also a meter which tells the pilot when
they are in the altered state too long. It is called the break meter and the bottom is called the
break point. As the Lynx approaches the break point the world itself starts to return to normal.
The Lynx can only suppress time and space, it cannot control it. Time and space fights back and
normalizes, but if the Lynx does not bend back quickly, the craft and the pilot will be trapped in
its own separate dimension.

When used in squads the Lynx is even more lethal. The G switch suppresses time and space in
a given area. If one pilot activates the altered state allies can share in the effect without having
to pull five g's themselves. All they have to do is hit the switch. The pilots can stack their
time and space suppression so that it lasts indefinitely, taking turns bearing the energy load;
sharing uses a lot less energy. This is all theoretically possible, but squads of Lynx's have never
been needed, besides...the plane was new. The Special Air Unit was to be the first squad to be
trained in loose tactics on the Lynx. In theory, stacking time space suppression as a group
wasn't more dangerous than theory.
The plasma ray can be activated while in the altered state and was designed to be used in the
altered state. The G switch and the plasma ray use the same energy pool so the pilot must be
very careful. In tests, there were some "accidents" in which entire prototypes along with the
test pilot were "lost". The plasma ray is best used in rapid bursts to conserve power. The
Cheshire energy supply is fixed and replenishes constantly, but too much energy can be
expended at one time. Four seconds is the optimal amount of time for safe performance of the
craft within the altered state. Pilots can work in pairs, one suppresses while the other fires; this
can stretch an altered state from nine to fourteen seconds depending on how much energy is
used. Mathematically speaking, a crew of twenty pilots could maintain the altered state and
fire their weapons indefinitely. The current hypothesis is that the break meter may become
more volatile in extended circumstances; whatever that means...Bruce Griffith wasn't going to
hang around for the experiment.
How can a machine enter an altered state of consciousness? The Air Force started out hiding
the fact from the test pilots. They didn't want the pilots to think too deeply about the origin of
the technology at the time...this was earlier in the war. They coined the term G switch and
called it G-Mode, relating the special movement to gravity, and not to consciousness. Then
they realized that calling it G-Mode caused too many failures and crashes; the pilots would need
proper psychic training in order understand what actually occurs during G-Mode and be
successful. A blanket term was removed for the altered state, the pilots would have to
comprehend it directly and come to grasp the principles involved. But this took too much time.
Instead, the limiter was developed with the help of Dr. Bian and others. It would train pilots
mentally and emotionally, as well as physically and spiritually without them even knowing. This
was developed more than a year ago. The reason for the aliens being so quiet in recent
months is due to the skies being patrolled by individual Cheshire 1 Lynx pilots: they do an
efficient job clearing the skies. The aliens modified their tactics though, baiting individuals with
small fish then ambushing them when they exited the altered state unawares. The aliens also
responded by upping the numbers. First we started working in pairs to extend the time.
Then the Greys upped the numbers again like drug-immune bacteria. Many of the best pilots
were killed. The decision was then made to up our numbers; responding, as Angel would say...
That's where the Special Air Unit comes in...

Ryan Stone coughs and gags, he had fallen asleep again. This time he awoke to the sound of
thunder. (The rain's picking up), he thinks to himself with a yawn. A good inch of water was
now flowing under him. Choking on the water had awakened him. Even with his head turned
sideways water occasionally flowed into his nose. He picked up a cement block from the rubble

nearby. It was about four inches, thick enough to keep his head above the water. He used it
as a pillow...laying face down with his head turned to the side. He tried to go to sleep but he
couldn't, all he could think about was the mission and the other guys and if they were alright.
He tried not to think about Murphy too might be bad luck.
Nothing could stop his mind from asking the burning question, (...Did We Win?). Somehow the
thunder had answered him with rapturous applause. In fact the weather was heckling him; it
seemed the weather's retort was mocking in nature -"You're in deeper shit now, Ryan Stone."
(Felicia) He didn't want to think about was comforting, but deep down he knew it was a
weakness. She popped into his head as though thoughts of her were being implanted from
somewhere. She lived in his mind now, he couldn't ask her to leave. He could only ignore the
thoughts and not dwell on them. (Women) He laughs to himself as some water brushes up
against his chin: (Is the water level still rising?) is...(OH NO!)
Ryan could feel his heart beating faster. His back stopped hurting, adrenaline. He felt a tinge
snarls and faces the reality. "FUCK!!!" Now he was too angry to be scared. He was mad at
himself, but he did not dwell on that; self-defeatism can kill you in the wrong situations. He
picked himself up emotionally and searched for a solution. He started by folding his hands
under his head. (This should give me 30 more minutes at the current rate.) Lightning shines
through the spaces in the rubble, accompanied by more thunder. (It is hurricane season...)

There were few other survivors on base, many of the key personnel were removed before the
base was attacked and relocated to Cape Canaveral. The base covered the whole
the war progressed civilian life disappeared and many towns were linked together by "runways".
Essentially, small towns all over America became centers for military activity. Any straight road
was converted to a runway for aircraft. In the larger cities civilian life still continues for the
purpose of "cultural protection". It is these cities that become the main targets. Spreading
the base over a large area allows Leadership to hide hangars and munitions amongst
doppelgangers and decoys, an old WW2 tactic. The Greys had teased out the Special Air Unit
to reveal the hangars position. To the Special Air Unit the hangar was home, the hangar was
Bobby Spoon and Jeff Rudolph Peters finally made it. It was rubble; the destruction was
uniform with the coarseness and jaggedness of an unpolished crystal. You needed special
boots or soccer cleats to walk amongst it. Spoon and Peters stopped at the edge and stared for
a while.

"Should we look for people?

Looks like we're the first ones here, hehe."


"I guess we're the rescue squad."


"Yeah, doesn't look like we'll find anything."


"There's nothing else to do, let's have a look around."

Traversing the rubble in the rain was no easy task. The men talked and joked, they both found
metal pipes to use as walking sticks for balance, why not?

The rain is flowing all around him, begging to take him. Memories of his life come into Ryan
Stones head: His first girlfriend Hazel, his mother, days in school, playing hot wheels, his dog
Sally, the creek by his old house, Mr. Gunner, his favorite teacher, even old Yael Bervinski, a kid
who used to bully him. Ryan wanted to forgive Yael, just for a moment... -He catches himself,
"Fuck that!" He rejects all thoughts of the past, (I'm not dying yet...) Then he thinks of the
unit and his heart wells up and his eyes flood with tears. He loved them, more than anything.
The worst part of his condition was not his broken back or the fact that he was stuck under
several feet of debris, nor was it the fact that the water was rising rapidly and he would surely
drown. What got to him was not being able to help his comrades. The battle obviously didn't
go very well, and he wasn't even there to die alongside them. Cruel fate, terrible bitch, Ryan
Stone is going to pimp you hard one day. "No, NOT TODAY!!!"

"Did you hear that?"

Peters frowns:


"I thought I heard something."

They stop and pause.

Spoon furls his brow and looks to the east:

"Well shoot!

"I thought I heard something..."

Let's go that way, all looks the same to me."

The rain and the cold were getting to Ryan: Hypothermia. He began shaking uncontrollably
with the water around him vibrating like a jacuzzi. (...Maybe I am going to die) He cries to
the heavens in one last shriek of despair. "Ahhhhhgggggg?!!!" The moan was a plead, a
white flag before the official surrender. Would the surrender be unconditional or not?



"I heard that."


"It's hard to hear in this weather."

The rain could be seen flowing underneath, the whole area was flooded, they had to move fast.


Silence...they keep on walking towards the groan, calling again and response. The
sounds have become surreal to Stone, who cannot distinguish the shouts from the rain and his
own heartbeat, he was dying. His mind drifted away. He had a dream that two soldiers were
standing on the rubble nearby, talking about something he couldn't make out. He recognized
one of them as Bobby Spoon...Bobby...his heart smiled as a clear voice can be distinguished
amongst the delirium.



Laughter can be heard somewhere through the water and rubble, it looked like shallow rapids in
some parts. Was it just the sound of water flowing over the rocks? Spoon got in his catlike
stance and so did Peters; the laughter was quite eerie, like a genie or evil spirit in the haze.
Stone: "Well if it ain't the nascar drivin' Bobby Spoon.
Spoon grabs onto Peters hugging him and jumping for joy:



"Hahahaha, Now hurry and get me the fuck outta here."

They all laugh together, it was a good day indeed.

Spoon jests in his country accent:

What brings you to my humble

The two haul ass getting the blocks off of

"How in the fuck are you still alive?"

"It's cuz' I'm lucky."


Another Limiter was already setup at Cape Canaveral, it must've been commissioned at the same
time as the other one. All of the pilots were lined up in front of the Limiter once again.
Training would commence immediately. This Pandora system was built indoors to safeguard
it against the Florida weather. Lieutenant Branstein was standing next to Commander Wilson
and Dr. Bian, along with two other girls wearing blue and pink headbands.
Commander Wilson: "Last time, we ran into some trouble training with Lieutenant Branstein.
I know this time there will be no problems. As all of you are aware...

(The one on the right's hot!)


(...I'll do all three of 'em)


(Pigs, look at how they stare at us!)


(I know, we're not here for them...remember we have to teach them)


(Oh my god, she's so pretty)

(Women again, now there's three, this isn't going to end well.) Patrick thinks of Ryan and what
he'd say. His face gets dark and he glances to the side. He blames the woman for Ryan's
injury. Ryan lost his concentration and took a spill. He normally never lost concentration, (He
was weakened by Felicia). Now these two other women are being paraded before the troops
with their headbands, (What unit are they from? The carebear battalion!). A disgusted look
overtakes Patrick. NO ONE cared to inquire as to the situation in Georgia, Ryan Stone, his best
friend might be dead. Everyone treated Felicia Branstein like a hero, but not Patrick. Deep in

his gut Patrick knew the battle was lost before it started. It was lost when "Stone Cold Ryan
Stone" lost his cool. It would have been a different battle...YES...a very different battle if Stone
was there.

(Don't worry girls, I got this!)

(Who are these guys?!)
(She looks good...oh...that's that Felicia chick, she's a bitch...)

Commander Wilson:

"...That's why we are getting even more help."

Four more young women walk into the hangar and report directly to Wilson. They were
disciplined, only one of them shot as much as an eye towards the men standing at attention.
Half of the men popped boners, the other half popped half-boners. Only James and Patrick
stayed cool as cucumbers while Jackson was actually a little scared.
Jackson was very intimidated by beautiful women. (Get it together!) He wishes he could slap
himself but he was standing at attention and must surrender to the beauty. The one girl who
shot the glance turned and looked directly into Jackson's eyes. He wanted to look away but she
was standing pretty much directly in his line of sight. She noticed his weakness and stared into
his eyes. There was no quarter, no compassion to be had within her stare, he had to worship
her. He tried to look away casually at something in the distance, then he would glance back to
see if she was still whipping him. Her face was the same, or should one say, her eyes were the
same, for she has no facial expression. She continues to stare at him for minutes and minutes.
He tries to look away but there is some psychosomatic force coming from her eyes which
arrested his faculties; some sort of mind control. (What's up with the headbands!) Jackson
starts to crack under the pressure and actually giggles to himself audibly.
Eyes without a face had gotten to him:
me...WEAK MAN!!!"
Commander Wilson:


"I See You...YOU'RE MINE.

(Fuck, it's already starting.

Now open up to

Can't these guys grow up.)

"Sorry Sir." (What does she want from me, leave me alone!)

This chick widens her stance a few inches at ease and resets: Looking into his eyes again, tilting
her head forward slightly with a gentle smile on the edge of her lips.
Jackson's shivering with fear. (What is she going to do?!)
at him; it felt like she was looking into him.

He didn't feel like she was looking

First he could feel the grip around his psyche loosen. (Am I free?) Then he saw her smile
disappear as she looked away, forgetting him completely like he didn't exist. Then he noticed
his pants were warm...(She made me cum. She made me ejaculate without even having an
erection! WITH HER EYES!!!)

(Men are such scum, a bunch of little boys.)

(We have to be their mother.)
(I have this, I can handle this.)

There was a break in the storm that afternoon. A rescue chopper was sent to scan the area for
key personnel. They touched down about a mile from the old hangar. Bobby grabbed a grimy
hospital bed sheet and climbed as high as he could shouting and waving the signal for rescue.
The rescue workers got back into their chopper.

"Where are they going?!"


"Don't worry, they saw us, they're just gettin' closer."

Stone was rambling on about something: "Yeah man, it's just so crazy, like, I wouldn't have
been under the bed if I didn't fall out of the bed. I wouldn't have fallen out of the bed if I didn't
respond to my instincts..."
Spoon cuts him off: "We could talk a lot about woulda, coulda, shoulda...I tell you what, I wish
you were in that battle with us."

"Yeah man, Captain Murphy needed you man..."



Stone tries to stand up again just so he could beat his fist against the rubble and kick shit over,
but he didn't make it. Peters and Spoon were restraining him, calming him down before he
could even start to get up. Luckily the helicopter crew got there soon. Peters was scared that
Stone was having a nervous breakdown.

"Fuckin' A' dude."

The crew placed Stone on a stretcher; Peters and Spoon also got a lift back to Florida.
Crew member1:

"Yeah how'd you know?"

Crew member1:

"We were ordered to only search specifically for Special Air Unit pilots."

"Thanks for picking us up man, you took a risk grabbing us."

Crew member2:

"You guys Special Air Unit?"

"We don't care who we rescue, we just want to save lives..."

"Well thanks anyways."

The crew member just smiles at Spoon.

Stone butts in: "Yeah you guys did me a HUGE favor. I've been wiping my own ass for a long
time; but I haven't been in shit that deep...I tell you what, thank you. Thank all of you."
Spoon smiles:

"No problem man, just doin' our job."

"Just doin' our job."

Ryan turns to look at everyone, he looks at Bobby...tears well up in his eyes as he falls asleep.

Helicopter pilot:

"Is there a Major Bobby Spoon amongst you?"

Spoon answers with caution:

"It's me Sir."

Helicopter pilot: "Oh boy, we done went fishing an' caught the Big One.
fishing trophy after today!"
"What do you mean Big One!"

I needa myself a

Bobby is flustered.

The pilot got a little more serious although his colorful Tennessee accent didn't change a note:
"What, you don't know?! Everyone thinks you're an alien!"
Peters jumps up and hits his head on the ceiling causing slight turbulence.

"OH DAMN!!!"

Helicopter pilot: "Don't worry, we don't care who we pick up, we're just here to save lives.
You're safe here, even if you are an alien!"
All the crew members laugh at Bobby and Peters, who didn't think it was very funny.
didn't stop talking and the laughing continued.

The pilot

"I hear they do bad things to suspected aliens, weird tests...You're up for interrogation in Florida.
You can jump out now if you like, I won't stop you."
Spoon looked over at the emergency parachute for a second.
snickering little devils, but at least they were human.

The crew were a bunch of

"Can you fly? hahahaha, Maybe your friends will pick you up before you hit the ground! You're
NOT taking the emergency parachute..." This guy was a killer, he should have been a
comedian; maybe in better days, better days.

For a while Bobby was nervous, then he felt resolute. Peters just stared out the window. It
was quiet the rest of the way, although the flight crew did participate in small talk amongst each
When they touched down armed troops surrounded the chopper. They wanted Bobby, but
they had to take Peters too for precaution. Stone was rushed to the medical examiner.
Wilson had come to his bedside first before tackling the alien question. He was surprised and
pleased to find him alive ...After losing Murphy ...Angel was AWOL ...Although he wasn't ranking,
Ryan Stone was arguably the best F-22 pilot there is. Wilson felt guilty about everything, all of
the losses, he felt horrible. He convinced himself that he was just checking on Stone, but deep
down he needed Ryan Stone: not just his body, but his spirit. Wilson knew this, and he
respected him; not to use him as a crutch, but rather as an ace in the clutch.

"...So we have the x-rays...Your back is broken."

Ryan hated white coats, what he calls doctors; they are not his type of people.


"Yeah, I know my back's broken!

The doctor has some tone deaf NPR voice:


But can I fly again?!"

"Calm down, calm down.

You're not paralyzed."

"What does that mean?"

The doctor shrugs his shoulders with his hands up:

"I don't know."

Ryan looks over at Wilson with a lost look in his eyes, Wilson would receive no comfort from him
Doctor: "You're not just depends on how much you wanna fly.
back is not a death sentence..."

"How Long?

A broken

How Long?!"

Wilson shoots a dirty look over at Ryan, then begins to smile:

(He never changes).

Doctor: "We'll see, it looks like you got some spirit in you, we'll set you up with full
Wilson says under his breath:

"Doctor - If we can expedite that!"

The Doctor takes a step back from Wilson:

expedite the..."

"I'm sorry Sir, but healing takes time, you can't

Wilson ignores the Doctor as Lt. Branstein approaches and salutes him. He turns to hear
something that she has to say. She gave her full report at Ryan's bedside without so much as
noticing him. Was he a prop? His fate had conveniently taken the back seat as he has to
listen to this broad that is close enough to smell. Before she left she turned and looked at him.
It was the same look of pity that she gave him before, this time it felt more appropriate and he
could do nothing about it. After scanning his face for signs of dignity, she left without
addressing him.
"BYE!" -He yells after her down the hallway.
"Hey!" Wilson snaps his fingers in Stones face, blocking his view.
that's my niece. I want you to get better in a hurry."

"We need you focused,

"Hey, hey, hey, what did I say about..."

Wilson: "No! Your job is to get him back on his feet as soon as possible, no excuses, do
whatever you have to!"
Commander Wilson stormed out of the room.
Ryan relaxes back in his hospital bed, (Wilson's heated, I wonder what's going on?).

"So you think I'm the alien?" Spoon and Bian were having a casual conversation. Bian took
Spoon through the logic of why they suspected him, that basically he was more in tune with the
alien's frequency or something like that.

Wilson barges in:


"Where's Peters?"

"He's been excused."

Wilson stands in the background, not too close, he barely musters up the courage to get out his
next question, "So whats this guy know? Is he one of them?"
Arabian's eyes get weird and really big; "Zat dependz on how he answers thiz next
question...How, when you disobeyed orders, what were you doing when you saw the spacecraft
(Oh shit!) His back was against the wall. He remembers he was drinking his flask at the time,
that's all he remembers. (I don't wanna admit to drinking while flying a multi-million dollar
aircraft with other peoples lives on the line...but...fuck...drinking on the job is a very-human
activity, better than getting cut up.) "I was drinking."
"Drinking." -Wilson takes a step back; all of this stress was for naught.
drink before missions back in his day. "This is getting ridiculous."

Hell, everyone used to

Bian seemed even more excited, exposing himself as a weirdo and losing respect from the
Commander and Spoon. "Ah, now I understand! It all makes sense now! An altered state of
consciousness, a different strategy!"
Wilson motions for Spoon to leave but Bian interrupts:
Wilson: "That's enough for today.
against the new female trainers."

"I still have more questions."

We need Spoon to help train and to counterbalance

Bian shrieks with laughter: "You know, counterbalance against the female is not a good idea
my friend, just so you know."

"Yeah, tell that to my wife.

Let's keep all this quiet for now."

Dr. Bian sat down in the desk as the others left, playing with his hands like an evil genius. His
eyeballs were wide open with amazement...(a new strategy, a NEW strategy, we must save it for

When Spoon rejoined the unit everyone was huddled up. As he approached the men turned
and stared at him in silence. Peters had spooked everyone; everyone but Patrick. He stepped
out of the circle and greeted his buddy with respect.

"Hey guy, you're still alive?!"


"Oh Yeah, Oh Yeah!"

Chapter 4:

Lunatics from Hell

"I don't believe it!"-Stone

"...You have to."-Spoon
"Yeah, you can ask James, he saw it."-Teetle
Ryan shakes his head and folds his arms, "Naw, I still don't believe it." (That mangy feline had
been flying the Lynx for over a year...I've never heard of this! Are we that compartmentalized!)
Teetle laughs at Ryan, (Same old Ryan is just putting on a show, looks like he didn't hit his head
too hard!) "Yeah but there's more..."
Spoon grins and adds in:

"Yeah, there's more chicks."

Ryan almost jumps out of bed again.


"More chicks!"

"They're pretty hot too..."

"Awe man!" Ryan folds his hands behind his head looking up at invisible stars on the ceiling.
(Just when the Air Force is getting sexy! I fuck up and get injured like this!)
Benson appears in the room slapping Bobby and Patrick on the shoulders:
you coming back? I need you to help womanize with me."
Benson cackles as Spoon throws his arm off of his shoulder:
women, they are more like psychopomps!"
Teetle: "Psychopomps!


Bobby, what are you talking about?

"Yeah Ryan, when

If you can call them

Ever since you've been

Benson is almost shouting in excitement, "Yeah, since you've been training you've been on some
holier than thou, high horse."

"Using all the big words no-one understands...What's gotten into you Bobby?"

Benson: "He's an elitist now, look at him, having coffee with all the new trainers.
psycho-schitzo-jesuit-itis-function of the membrane!'"


Ryan couldn't help laughing his balls off; that was the desired effect his friends had envisioned.
All three started to walk out but Ryan interjects: "Hey what about those new trainers?"
"There's SIX of 'em; SIX!" -Benson's eyes were so wide he looked like some sort of monster that
lived in a child's closet.



"Six, plus Felicia."


"Oh, you're calling her Felicia now."

Patrick just starts laughing..."Too many for us to handle; Jackson dude!!!"

Ryan wanted to get up again!

"WHAT, WHAT happened to Jackson?!"

All three of the men hiss as they shoot each other sideways glances. They slowly motion
towards the exit. Teetle turns around and points a sharp finger at Ryan: "You have to get
better first...until then..."
Benson: "Yeah, until then they're gonna belong to me, you're gonna have to pimp them back!
They all laugh, even Spoon, who knew all seven of them on a first name basis; "...You Guys...",
he says in a nostalgic tone. He salutes Ryan as he walks out the door. The last to leave, he
squeezes his head in and whispers to Stone: "Really, they are hot though."
"Fuck you!" All of Ryan's muscles relax as his head drifts towards the window. "These guys..."
This is where he is supposed to fall asleep, but Ryan couldn't manage, all he wanted was to get

The remaining members of the Special Air Unit were at attention outside the Pandora system:
Marshal, Peters, Messner, Fischer, Teetle, Benson, Jackson, James, French, Johnson, Mather, and
Sanchez. Only twelve men...Spoon was standing next to Wilson, Stone was in the hospital,
Griffith was still AWOL, Hardy, well...Hardy can take care of himself.
In addition to Lt. Branstein were six more adjuncts who would supplement and integrate into the
Special Air Unit.
First was Carla Le Mangerie, the woman on the left, a European immigrant of Peruvian decent
and former prostitute. She was Felicia's top yoga student. Her motto in life is..."Smile, you're
The woman on the right was Ursula Underwood. A strange name with a pretty face, she was
teased in school for being a witch. Later in life the notion caught on and she got involved in
wicca. Not the type to stop there, she entered into cabala initiations and became a psychic
medium eventually offering her services to hollywood bigwigs. How she knows Felicia is a
There was a familiar face amongst the blue & pink headbands, a celebrity...Olympic champion
gymnast Nadia Pulev. She specialized in parallel bars. She is a part of the ancient Russian
shamanic tradition that predates historical records. She is an admirer of all sorts of rocks, a
fascination implanted in her by her great great grandmother. Her and Felicia met each other at
a new age conference or something.
Forever hailed as the greatest Romanian athlete in her day is the biathlon champion, runway
model, and humanitarian Amelia Dostona. Touted by some to be the most beautiful woman
alive, her tuft of platinum blonde hair can be seen a mile away. She is called the "Sun of
Romania", a woman so beautiful, you cannot look her directly in the face.
Next was Zhang Ran Ran, a Chinese vampire hunter and aristocrat.

She was a colleague of

Branstein's. Her English name is McKayla, given to her by her laowai boyfriend.
traveling the world, she is committed to only fuck black guys.


Lastly is Stephanie Maldonado, eyes without a face. Considered a perfect ten by both men and
women, she has internalized this over time. She is of mixed decent and is the type of beauty
that kept others guessing her origin. Ruthless in her nature, yet camouflaged by all of the
learned feminine niceties. Not contempt with wearing a headband; her ambition is to
challenge Commander Wilson for leadership of the Special Air Unit.

...In the hangar...

Nadia Pulev was giving a demonstration on the twin spheres. She started by moving back and
forwards a few times, not getting far up the limiter wall. Then in a burst she shot her legs
sideways and she went flying backwards...the momentum carried her up the limiter wall and to
the ceiling and continued her down the front and started a cycle. She would move her legs
laterally with every revolution, each time increasing her speed. Her actions were completely
fluid as she traveled in circles, never losing her center of gravity or deviating from the
movements. As the speed increased, the pace of her legs increased although she never lost
fluidity. As she picked up more speed she stuck out her arms forwards and her legs sideways at
the same time. This created balance and stability, but also increased the speed. Each time
she stuck out her arms she would stretch out her hands, and then retract them with a grabbing
motion as though she was pulling herself forwards, tucking her elbows to her sides.
Dr. Bian hit a switch on the Pandora system and the twin spheres froze with the outer sphere
stuck to the floor of the limiter while the inner sphere was still rotating. Nadia tucked herself
into a tight ball as she started spinning at blinding speeds. At the bottom of the limiter she was
spinning head over heels at a rate of four rotations a second. Dr. Bian hit the switch again to
make it unsticky, but Nadia didn't budge an inch, her spinning was perfectly balanced and
smooth. Dr. Bian yelled out, "You can go Nadia!" She then in a FLASH stretched out her arms
and legs as before and she shot backwards at almost the same speed she had been traveling
previously. (What a genius!) Bian thought to himself. He sounded a beacon which told
Nadia to slow it down to a stop. She then began doing two separate sets of movements;
instead of tucking her legs and arms back in with each cycle, she would stick out her legs laterally
then stick them straight down after tucking them back in and repeat, as her arms would shoot
up after being tucked in. She made a perfect vertical line with her body and alternated that
with the outward movements. This slowed her down. Then all of a sudden she made
stopped at the bottom with her hands interlaced stretching for the sky with her toes pointed
towards the earth like a ballerina. She was spinning like a top on the limiter floor. She
gradually slowed down and ended it with a seamless transition to a standard ballet attitude
pose. (Genius!) Everyone started clapping...
"Hold the applause."

Wilson barked.

"Next up is Miss Underwood.

Thank you Nadia."

Ursula got into the limiter. She scanned the faces of the men; they seemed less like pigs now
that the pressure was on her to perform. She stay there hunched over with a mona lisa smile
on her face, wondering what she should do. Her smile widens as she lowers her center of

gravity and rests on her hips like she was riding a horse.

"Are you ready to go Ursula?"


"I'm ready!"

Clap, clap, clap...All the girls start to clap in unison. (What were they doing?), Wilson thought,
(How'd they all start clapping without so much as looking at each other? They're like a cult.)
Clap, clap, clap.
Ursula's smile is full blown, she turns her head to the side and travels in that direction. Guided
by her smile, wherever she turned it is where the twin spheres moved. She surfed the bottom
of the limiter floor like this for about 30 seconds. Her face went blank for a moment, then an
evil sneer showed up and she let loose a wild howl. It was the witch transformation. She can
see the faces of the men melt and crumble in fear of her with bewilderment. As she went
haphazardly building momentum on the limiter floor, she would look in the face of a man.
Though her body may be anywhere within the pandora, she always traveled where she looked.
She would look towards the men to build momentum in that direction, then simply look away to
repel herself backwards. It was that simple for her. Even after building enough momentum
to start a cycle her pattern did not change. While doing all sorts of acrobatics, rotations, and
revolutions her facial expression showed someone that was completely detached from her
physical experience. Her smile seemed to penetrate into the men's souls, and she sensed their
power, for it was their power that she used to propel herself. The men played hot potato with
her, always looking away in fear and shame once one become her focal point. She got out of
the limiter with a genuinely dominant smirk as the gals all celebrated like cheer leaders with bon
All of the men looked at each other, they were all thinking the same thing: (What the hell is
she?). They checked each others eyes for an one had one. They looked at Wilson
who seemed bashful but concerned for his men.

"Now you men understand...this is not merely a physical activity."

They all gave dirty looks to Spoon who was standing next to the girls, he looked too comfortable.
Bobby was in their club now. Training men and women together creates sexual tension, this
tension can be manipulated into vast amounts of energy to raise the fighting spirit. Bobby had
mastered this long ago, it's the secret of the universe.
Spoon: "There are as many ways under the sun to use the Pandora system. Learn to do
whatever you please, do whatever pleases you, and learn to make it work for your benefit. It's
not just Pandora, but life in general."
Benson mutters under his breath:

(What the fuck is this monkey talking about?)


He's cut off by Wilson: "That's enough Spoon., we're going to begin a new
intensive training regimen designed specially by our friends Dr. Bian and Colonel Spoon."
Gasps could be heard from the guys:

(Colonel Spoon!!!

They promoted him!!!)

...One month later...

"Uah twenty-eight, Uah twenty-nine, Uah thirty, Uaahhhhh...huh, huh, oh god." Ryan Stone
had just finished his set of pushups and turns over to lay on his back. Turning over was the
most painful part. He tried to do crunches but to no avail with golf balls of sweat dripping
down his face. "Ughhh." Lack of human contact has led him to develop his own form of grunt
communication. He would talk to himself in moans and groans to keep himself company; it's
very useful when you're in pain. He clears away the blanket at is feet and starts his leg lifts
while grabbing the bars on his bed for support. "One, Uah, Two, Three, Uahhhh, Four. Huh,
huh, Rrrr, Five! Rrrrr" He suddenly halts all action and lays on the bed like a weakling...he can
hear the nurse's clipboard clanging as she walks down the hall to his room.

"Oh, you threw off your blanket again; so clumsy."

Ryan smiles:

"It's hot."

The nurse slyly looks at him...she knew.

daily rehabilitation?"

Then she asks with a grin:

"Are you ready for your

"Am I ever!" Ryan wants to help himself get up but he as to pretend for now...
She unfolds a wheelchair and assists Ryan in getting in: "Okay, let's go to physical therapy;
you're doing really well. You're really making great progress."
Ryan smiles again, "Really?"

He lowers his brow (just for now...soon)

Wilson: "There have been reports of suspicious activity around some of the hangars.
Someone seems to be snooping around...or should I say...something."
The men of the Special Air Unit, as well as the women had interrupted training and were called
in for an emergency meeting. Everything was serious.
Wilson: "The suspicious character appeared 30 minutes ago but ran when M.P.'s tried to get
close. The figure is now at large...due to the touch and go nature of things, we won't sound the
alarm to alert the base. I want you to disperse in pairs and find this character. They may be a
physical alien, or one of your own comrades under mind control or possibly corporeal
Everyone was shocked. They stopped listening to Wilson. At the hangar door was an
imposing silhouette. The shadow paused at the doorway. The men's hearts got lighter as the
intruder happily gaits inside. Hardy!!!
Hardy cocks his head to the side:

"Looking for me!"

Under the training suggestions of Colonel Spoon, the new regimen was a way of working in
reverse. Rather than having the pilots start by mastering movements to propel the twin
spheres, the new regimen started by throwing pilots into the gauntlet. They were given special
tasks to achieve in particular circuits controlled remotely by Dr. Bian. Upon entering the twin
spheres, Bian would use plural effects to take full or partial control of the twin spheres. It was
the pilots' job to simply handle the ride that Bian put them through. The alternative method
would be to use plural effects to throw the pilot into a predetermined situation within the
pandora system; at which point the pilot would have a special task to achieve, such as stopping,
surfing, or wrenching.
These guided activities were meant to shock the pilots into becoming more aware of the
psychosomatic relationship between the mind and body. The only way to endure the forces
was by releasing the tension in ones body. The new regimen was designed to release the
tension gradually by starting with the spine. The patterns of movement worked like a spiritual
washing machine for the souls of these men. Disorientation was a desired effect; once in place,
the pilots' spacial intelligence was reconfigured by more rounds in the limiter. The men were
forced to see their bodies and spacetime in a whole new way.
"I DON'T LIKE THIS!" Teetle's irate dude. "I feel like my souls being sucked through my fuckin'
dome." Le Mangerie touches his shoulder to calm him. "Don't fuckin' touch me! All these
experiments and shit, I'm not a fuckin lab monkey!"

Fischer tries to stop him.

"NO, I can FEEL my soul separating from my body. Doesn't anyone else feel it!
don't have souls! But I have a soul! I'm from the bible belt!"

Maybe you all

Half of the team was laughing at him, of both sexes too...may of well have been in bed together.
"It's not funny, all of this talk of psycho babble and nothing about Jesus Christ, nothing about
God!" -Teetle couldn't think of anything else to say except that on a deeper level, "My grandma
told me about this, when the devil dances free she one call it dancing." Everyone's
quiet, the fear of god is upon them. "Well I'm callin' it dancing."
Commander Wilson and Spoon reign him in...the Commander starts:

"You are out of line

"Only GOD can judge me sir," Teetle boasts.

Wilson: "Look here, you don't have to participate. As it stands now, you haven't passed the
last four circuits. We can't let you fly the Lynx, it would be too dangerous."
Teetle: "I don't wanna fly your freakin' Lynx, the devil's contraption, how'd you build it
anyways? The DEVIL help you?!"
An empty look overcomes the Commander, for a moment he looked like a demon:
Teetle, you're excused for today! Everyone else, prepare for test flights!"

Strapped in and ready to go, James inspected the inside of the cockpit.


(Only two meters!


gonna like flying this baby.) The inside of the cockpit was black polymer. It had an energy
gauge on the left and the combined G meter and Break meter on the right. There were two
joysticks, one controlled the craft in normal states, the other controlled the plasma ray functions.
Nestled in between the two joysticks were three analog dials that controlled movement during
the altered state. The right joystick contained the G switch which allowed the pilot to
gracefully control fire during altered states and switch between states without sacrificing
control...With the right hand manipulating the plasma ray and G switch, the left hand was free to
orchestrate the movements at all times. The left joystick also included the enhanced throttle
controls for normal flight functions.
James' task was to successfully enter into the altered state, experiment with the movement
functions, then exit the altered state. He took off the runway pressing the throttle up to full
power. He wanted the first impression of the Cheshire 1 - Lynx to be a good one and he had to
show everybody how it's done. Facing the sunset, he climbed altitude would be his
pleasure to enjoy the moment as he saw fit.
James was volunteered by Commander Wilson to be the first to try the new craft. This is
because James was the only one who had successfully endured the time space suppression of
the altered state. For all of Spoon's wisdom, during the last mission he and Peters both had
ejected due to the time space suppression forces. Angel had endured it, but he had become a
deserter. James was the only one (the only guy) who has successfully endured. Spoon would
be next to fly, then it would be Peters. For all James knew, he was going to die very soon. He
raised his right hand to his lips and blew the great soul in the sky a final farewell.
He sharp banks left and nosedives. (Okay here goes, ready to go! READY TO GO TO ANOTHER
DIMENSION!!!) "GHAAAAA!!!" James pulls up creating significant G forces. He presses the
switch, instant tunnel vision. The world got darker and the sky turned into a muddy green
color. He played with the knobs just a little. Every image left streaks, like headlights in the
accelerated videos of cityscapes. He made a point to adjust each knob back and forth, he
wanted to try all three. Beyond the general time space suppression, he couldn't feel any forces
acting on him at all. He hit the switch again, his vision clears but he immediately has to deal
with the regular forces of flight. His last adjustment actually had him traveling backwards at
200 mph when he hit the switch. So here he was in a jet sailing backwards in the sky! His
mind panicked and he hit the switch again to alleviate the acceleration; He turns the knobs, this
time sending his ship directly upwards. He flips the G switch off and the world recovers, the jet
was facing forwards but heading directly upwards. (So this is how it works...) He lets the
plane reach its zenith, then releases the controls and watches as the plane floats back down,
natural gravity being only cause of motion. He wanted to try again and again but he felt a
nudge urging him to stop.

(Watch your Break meter!)

James looks at his meters, (SHIT!!!) the break meter was close, too close!!! With his heart in
his throat he grabs the left joystick with both hands. As fun as it was, he wouldn't tempt
himself to see what lies beyond the break point; his right hand was already comfortable with the
possibility. Now at a very high altitude above the clouds James could see the sun clearly. He
would be tempted one last time as the break meter was back to about halfway. He wanted to
be the first to see the glory. He turns towards the sun, hits the switch and shifts forward
-seeing the rays of the sun gleam by in new ways revealed only to him. He saw many colors in

the sun, colors he didn't even know existed. (Why use such a machine for war?), he thought.
(I gotta fly at night and watch the stars streak by, like going into hyperspace!)

(Watch your Break meter!)

(Hmm...) James turned off the altered state. He cut it close again, too close. Luckily for
James, he was good at cutting it close. He took a slow decent and wondered at the sun as he
wondered at life...(You truly are an amazing soul in the sky, the seed of creation). He felt good,
after seeing the sun in the Lynx he had a new respect: for the vehicle, for celestial bodies, for
humanity, and for life. Most importantly he has new respect for himself. A warmth welled up
in him, it was warmth of the sun in his heart. It was a gift; now this warmth he carries with him
When James touches down and exits the craft the men see a visible change in him...he has
changed for the better. There's a soft glow about him. Everyone cheered and clapped at the
first successful flight, even the women, who were only there to observe and critique.
"Good Job!" Stephanie Maldonado's clapping wasn't genuine; she wasn't impressed. She is
super gregarious in order to hide her jealousy. Whatever the human race was up against, she
still didn't want anyone, especially some man stealing her shine.
Bobby rushes to his side:

"What happened?!"

"I think I heard a voice, I felt something..." James searches for an explanation while everyone
looks at him weird. "There were two times, twice I got really the break point...It's like
someone was telling me to..."
"Hahahaha..." Bian is laughing. you've met her."

James looks at him grotesquely.

Bian continues, "You

"Met who?"

"The Lynx, she has chosen you!

Now that one is yours to fly." -Bian

"What?!" James answers with a spaced out expression. He turns to look at the Lynx:
Unassuming, but not to be underestimated...yeah, somehow he knew too.

"You talked to the plane?!"

"No, more like communicated with it.
"I don't get it, is it alive?

It watches out for you, like it's watching out for

It's a she, right?"

"I can answer that!" Ran Ran walked in between everybody and posed garishly with her hands
on her hips. "Of course it's a woman! What else can be so caring?"
Bian cackles:

"But not the Meerkat!

Le Mangerie: "The Meerkat is a killer!

would think of something so,"

None of you women can even touch the Meerkat!"

We should not have made such a device!

Only a man


"Ahead of its time. hmhmhmhm."

Colonel Spoon cuts through the group to get to his craft. "No, not all of them. No..." Spoon
runs his hand smoothly along the side of the Lynx, then quickly pulls back as though he was
snapped at.

"Are you alright?"


"Uh, I think mine's a male."


"Get in that sucker we're wasting time."



The alarm beacon.

Get in the sky quick!"

Spoon slaps the side of the Lynx like it's the butt of his ex-girlfriend. He jumps in, smoother
than silk. The low humming vibration begins and he's off. The rest of the team stands there
in awe; James takes initiative and makes for his Lynx; looking back at the rest of the crew, he sees
them as a bunch of lame ducks. Hardy catches this but is apprehensive; should he get in a
Lynx? He's barely had any training...He looks around at everyone's faces, they're looking at him
too, asking him the same question. Now there he stood: With the F-22 he knew all too well
in one hand, and the Cheshire 1 - Lynx that he could feel calling him on the other. He ran to the
Lynx hangar. He trusted his feelings. He trusted the Lynx to bring him home alive. Messner
sees him go and asks himself: (The F-22 or the Lynx?) He felt a queer presence coming from
the hangar, not enough to trust, he turns to the women and looks at them...(Aren't they
supposed to be the experts!) Messner growls and sprints to the Lynx hangar. All the other
men follow Messner.
As the guys leave Felicia brings the girls into a small circle. They do some funny hand clap
chant thing to boost morale. Then they take off their headbands and twirl them on their
fingers, hootin' and a hollerin' like native braves. They throw their headbands in the air thrice,
each time with a cheerFelicia:


They all reply:


The hooting continues as the claps accelerate and each woman puts her headband on one at a
time, calling out her name with pride.






Le Mangerie:




Ran Ran:




They raise their hands in the air, exposing matching multicolored beaded wristbands: "ALL
HAIL THE VALKYRIES OF GOD'S FURY!!!" They break the circle, jumping and cheering as they
head to their ships.


"Oh shit, not again!" Ryan Stone lie in his hospital bed, "I'm better off in the sky!" The
wheelchair was in the corner of the room. He didn't miss a beat in throwing his covers off and
sliding to the floor. In less than ten seconds he had unfolded the chair and was inside.
(...Now to find a fighter...) Ryan wheeled himself down the hallway. Nurses and doctors
running to their stations didn't even see him.
Suddenly! A sharp pain strikes his gut. A nurse scurrying down the hall faints and passes out.
The lights flicker on and off as the world darkens a tint...(What the?) A slow rumbling
humming sound, like a hive of bees, fills the air then softly subsides. (The C - 1 Lynx?!) He
stares long and hard down the hallway as the world bends back to normal (Hmm...the Lynx
hangar is in the other direction.) He weighed his options...the Lynx training had almost killed
him...he can handle an F-22 like a No. 2 pencil. There was no option for Stone, go hard or go
home. He turns toward the Lynx hangar then pauses, (What if there aren't any Lynx's left to
fly?) He turns back around then stops halfway facing the wall. (...What a strange sensation...)
He turns towards the Lynx hangar again, staring into space... "I don't have time for this!"
(Hurry Up! Come'on Stone!) His excitement grows with every push towards the Lynx hangar.

At the hangar

(Damn! Flight crews still here, It's gonna be hard to sneak on.) Air traffic guys and runway
coordinators were littered about the hangar. (Gotta do something.) He wheeled his way up
to the hangar door casually, the two men standing there noticed him, but paid no mind to the
cripple. (This might be easier than I thought.) And so dreams do come true! Before him lay
the shining beacon of hope, the light in the darkness, the cancer cure, that which shall be
named, as opposed to that which shall not!...The Cheshire Series 1 - Lynx! As he pushed it
seemed that his wheelchair was almost rolling by itself to the vehicle, (Is it magnetics? Phooey!)
Now he was at the strange contraption, finally. But how does he get in? There was a step
ladder on the other side of the craft. He couldn't wait, he jumped out of his chair and crawled
under the aircraft to get to the other side. He used pure upper body strength to get himself up
the step ladder, (All those pushups paid off!) He opened the hatch and a loud air
decompression could be heard. The men manning their stations run towards the craft as they
call for backup. (Shit! Come'on) The hatch opens and Stone dives in head first into the
cockpit. He manages to get upright as the flight crew reaches the step ladder. One of the
men rushes to the top and grabs Stone's shoulder. Stone was still wearing his buttless hospital

gown. Trying to shake the guy off rips his sleeve as the bozo falls down the ladder still holding
the ugly fabric. Another guy rushes up the ladder to try and reach him; Ryan punches him in
the nose right when he reaches eye level. This buys him a few seconds and he figures out how
to close the hatch. The inside of the cockpit was entirely different from anything he's ever
seen. Not knowing the capabilities of the Lynx, he didn't even know where to start. He
guesses...he guesses correctly! (Right ON!!!) He directs it out the hangar, the backup flight
crew has to dive out of the way to avoid being smeared. He behaved like a drunk driver who's
above the law. "Fuck off! I gotta fight some aliens!"

Out over the ocean, over Bermuda lay a vast field of ufo's, thousands of them. Spoon was the
first to receive the coordinates and the first to arrive. He slowed down to wait for his comrades
(That's too's too many) He was about to turn around when he saw a red light shine
down through the clouds before him. It singed several columns of ufos and disappeared,
receding into the clouds like a freak storm system. (They're already here, attacking from
above!) Several more strange storm systems occurred. The ufo's numbers were cut in half.
The remaining thousand or so scattered in all directions. Spoon speaks into the radio, "Great
job gals, now you scattered them."

"Shut up and fly!

I still see bogies left!

Why don't you shoot some of them!"

"Hey, hey, hey, let's do everything in stride, I'll just watch from here."

From directly above Spoon a craft descends and softly stops right next to him. He felt the time
space suppression emanating from the craft, his break meter was moving: "What are you

"You don't have a choice, NOW GO!"

She was sharing her time space with him, but he wasn't ready to fight...YET!!! He whips out his
flask of whiskey and downs it, spilling some on his chin. The effects of time space suppression
already had an inebriating effect on the mind, now he was DOUBLE fucked up!!!


"Calm down babe.


Give me time to grease the wheels"

"'Grease the wheels?!'" Maldonado descended and rested on Spoon's other flank.
let's go! I'll slingshot both of you."


In the distance killing and death can be seen...Grey deaths. The Lynx's weapon system
reminded Bobby of people flashing their high beams on a lone country road. He wanted to do
it too.
"Come'on I believe in you."
an unpumpupable person.

Dostona wanted to pump up Spoon but it wasn't working, he was

"I believe in both of you!

Come'on I'll come with you two!"

Before they had the choice to move, another Lynx blasted by at blinding speeds, going right past

them into the thick of the madness.


"Who's that!"

"I don't know, but they got the right idea..."

Spoon goes first. Using the dials in the altered state to fly right up to clusters of ufos, he'd
beam 'em hard then retreat back to safety. He alternated with Maldonado and Dostona, a
three person relay. Each successive round would press forward, getting as close to the enemy
as possible and clearing out a space using a wider beam. Eventually they had cut through the
enemy entirely. The hole they had made filled up rather quickly with random ufos. But it was
futile for the Greys. The hole filled up because they were being herded, pressed from all sides
by the Lynx's firepower. The Lynx's ability to hover in place made it a fearsome opponent.
The Lynx can act as a gatekeeper, saving all of its energy for the plasma ray. The plasma ray of
the Lynx was actually more effective than the ufo's phaser guns in general.
Pulev was working in a team with Ran Ran. One would accelerate then bank to the side, pulling
five g's. Then she hit the switch and moved laterally while focusing a medium intensity beam
over a sizeable area. Once activated, they simply took turns generating the field, stayed close
together, and moved side to side starting from the top of the enemy formation. They "erased"
flocks of the enemy like a teacher wiping a blackboard. When they left the altered state, most
of the enemy craft were defeated. There were only about a hundred stragglers left to cause
any harm. Numbers that would have seemed impossible to handle before became a duck
shoot in the cockpit of a C - 1 Lynx.
"Vuuuu, Vuuuu...Vuuuu, Vu, Vuuuuuuu, Vu , Vuuuuu" Ursula Underwood was rolling solo,
shifting and locking on to different targets with her mind. She was hunting individual
stragglers, killing three to five bogeys in a single blast, properly adjusting her weapon system as
she fired. "Vu, Vuuuu" Her plasma ray never ran dry. She knew the best firing pattern and
she knows exactly how much energy she has. Staying out of the altered state allowed her
conserve precious energy. Why even enter the altered state when she is kicking so much ass
anyways? Her sweeping acrobatic movements in the Cheshire cat gave the Greys a run for
their money. She can move and shoot like the best when in pursuit of an enemy.
All of the Special Air Unit has read the manual on how the fly the Lynx, but none adapted to the
new tech quite like Marshal. His movements were so peculiar, they compared with that of the
ufos. He used the dials in the altered state to produce an expanding spiral attack. Each circle
would be wider and wider as he inched forward, blazing his guns. When he gets close to the
break point he leaves the altered state while traveling at a vector that propels his craft forwards
and slightly upwards. He would float across the sky passing over all of the enemies then repeat
the process from the opposite direction. He somehow did barrel rolls while in the altered
state, giving him the capability of changing his orientation and allowing him to leave the altered
state with more control over his destination. Using the dials and the left-joystick at the same
were strictly forbidden in the training manual...But let's be honest with ourselves...It is Marshal
that is doing most of the herding.
Le Mangerie:

"How does he do that?!"

"Spiral's right out of the training manual."

Le Mangerie:

"No, the barrel rolls."

"You're not supposed to do that."

Marshal: "Haha, it says not to change the direction you're facing; never said nothin' about
barrel rolls."

"You can't use the left joystick in the altered sta..."

Marshal: "Looks like I just did!

fry. (bitch)"

You worry about yourself honey-bee.

We still got bogies to

Underwood was separated from the main forces. She is hunting the rest of the stragglers.
She still hasn't changed her state by using the G switch. She would fry some bogies in the
retreat, then she would be flanked by another ufo. She'd dive to avoid it then approach the
enemy once again from underneath in pursuit. The bogeys caught on and tried to flank her
several times, it was like a pattern. If they flanked from the left she would fall off to the right; if
they flanked from the right she would fall off to the left. If they flanked from both sides she
would decelerate and nose dive, quickly righting herself and pointing her guns up. She was an
"Fuck! Why do they keep on coming!" She was using so much energy creaming the baddies,
she didn't have enough to switch states even if she wanted to. It was a rookie mistake.
In her rear she caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye. It was a portal!
stayed behind her at a fixed distance wherever she flew. It was locked onto her.

"Ughhh, the jump gate is behind me!"

"Behind you!"

Underwood cries in panic:



"Yeah it's following me!"

"Ursula, Where are you?!


The portal

How many?"

"They're just trickling out, not too many.

But it's on my tail.

It won't go away!"

"Tell us Ursula, Where are you?!"

"Found her!"

She approached Underwood tangentially from the side. Pulev approached at the perfect angle
to flank the jump gate itself. She hit the G switch and stuck to Ursula's ass, blazing the jump
gate's flank with full power. The gate could be seen to dissolve like a sheet of paper thrown
into a fire. From Pulev's perspective it felt like she was shooting at a stationary target; she was
solely focused on the portal. Everyone else can see that Underwood had a blazing tail. It
looked like two bright lights that followed her everywhere: a red one and a beige one. The
red light ate the beige light.

"You're good bait."


"Everybody loves me."

The enemy was toast. Different layers of shrap and ash can be seen falling into a the sea...not a
single soul was lost. Messner wipes his chin having mixed emotions of disgust and wonder:
"...Almost too easy..."
"That's it."

Maldonado adds in an upbeat tone.

The Special Air Unit does some brief reconnaissance then turns towards home.
object coming towards them from the direction of Cape Canaveral.

"What's that?"


"It's another Lynx!"




What's the status of base?!"

The radio could be heard to click on, there was a long pause...static.
Then a familiar scruffy voice echos through...
"Did I miss the party?"
A ghost from the past, the lunatic from hell, Stone!!!

There is an

(Wasn't he fuckin' paralyzed?!)

No one said anything.

Chapter Five:


Patrick Teetle pencils letter to his mother; a power ballad can be heard in the background:
"There was a big party yesterday. Everyone's was poppin' champagne bottles and getting
drunk. People been really happy around here lately. I don't know why, maybe it's the Florida
weather. Ryan's okay now. The doctor said it was a miracle. I've been prayin' for him; I
know you have too. Spoon's been promoted to Colonel. The weather in Cape Canaveral is a
treasure Mom, it really is. I've been removed from the Special Air Unit and been changed to
flight control. I couldn't pass the test to fly the new jet. Now I'm working directly underneath
the flight coordinator. It's a better job. I'm not going to be in the sky anymore...You know it's
always been my dream to fly, but things are getting crazy Mom. I know you'll be happy that I'm
out of harms way now, 'leave the fighting to them,' you'd say. I get more R & R these days, it's a
lot less stressful job too. Not as much pressure as flyin', I'll tell you that. The Special Air Unit
done added a bunch of females and the boys done gone crazy. Some of 'dem women ain't right
I tell ya. Some of them, they like a witch. They all into crystals and magic and stuff. I met
this Chinese gal that claims to hunt vampires. At least she ain't no vampire! I might have to
stake her and get myself a dishonorable discharge. Better than going to hell Mom! Anyways,
I'm glad to be outta that now. They've been gone most of the time, the Special Air Unit, on
missions. I still get lunch in with Bobby and Ryan every couple weeks. They nice guys.
Those two guys, they never change. Well, Mom, I love you. You raised me right, don't forget
that. Your boy is tough. Tell Pops I luv him too."

The ballad increases in volume.


Barrel roll out" -Benson


As Messner pulls away from the throng of ufo's Benson plows through from behind with a wide
beam, nailing everything in his path.

"Call me the STREET SWEEPER!


Benson descends, rolling as he dives. He pulls up and hits five g's, flicks the G switch, then
drops like an elevator and rests in between Sanchez and French who were stationary. They
both use his field and hit their G switches, racing forwards. Benson flicks it off and hangs in
the sky like an out of place cloud. Le Mangerie pulls up alongside him, popping out of the
altered state. They rest for a moment and address the situation...On his other flank appeared
Johnson, he whizzed by using the time space suppression. That split second was enough for
Benson to activate his own altered state using Johnson's field. Le Mangerie then activated her
altered state and raced after Benson. The three of them stopped almost simultaneously in
front of an enemy formation and spread and out into a delta. First the triangle expanded, then
they closed it in and erased the whole enemy formation. The sky was smoky behind them;
particles in the air reflected light to form a misty haze one could barely see through.

Le Mangerie turns to fly towards the haze:

"Come with me Big Boy...if you can follow..."

Drifting through the smoke and particles in the air, Benson kept on her tail.
the cloud of debris, twirling in the sky: "Dance with me baby."

She stayed within

She would barrel roll and dive, bank and dip, pull up and break away, stall and do backflips. It
was a beautiful display, and Benson had to keep up with her if he wanted to see it. She stayed
within the field of mist, never leaving. His visibility was only so good. He had to stick to her
tail and copy her movements or she would disappear completely. An exhilaration Benson's
never felt before overtakes him. (This woman! It's like we're having sex!) As his excitement
peaks he feels her suppression field activate. He flips his switch to pursue but she's already
gone. He searched the haze, flying in circles and figure eights until all of the smoke cleared
Le Mangerie and Dostona were perched high above the clouds watching him.

"What a buffoon!

Le Mangerie:


"It doesn't matter, he'll keep on looking until he finds me..."


"I can use him later.


He doesn't even know you're gone!


Is he in love?"

Le Mangerie imitated the sound of a whip cracking.


Ryan Stone flies directly towards Felicia Branstein. They fly towards each other, playing chicken
in the middle of a firefight. Ryan brakes and corrects himself as he hits his G switch. Stopping
right in front of her, her travels in reverse looking into her eyes as she flies forward. She
wanted to look away but he was too serious. There was something he wanted to show her.

"I'm gonna get behind you, hit your switch."

Now the two of them were back to back, both in the altered state. She felt a nudge. They
moved laterally, up and down, sticking to each others back the whole time...Like a tango, though
they were both facing outwards, firing their plasma rays. They didn't crash into each other
because they were perfectly aligned and only used the lateral and vertical dials. She could
could feel him through her Lynx; he guided her with nurturing caution in the dance. They
matched their movements, watching each others back. Their beams looked like the negative
and positive poles of one magnetic field flying across the heavens. This was real teamwork, it
required a level of trust Felicia had not felt in a long time. Of course, all of the bogeys got
smeared, and the other pilots just stayed out of their way. They returned to the normal state
with the sound of metal rain hitting the ocean.

"Why'd you do that?!"

"...Because that's what's required."


(He understands.

Maybe we can win.)

In the janitorial closet Felicia presses her palm against Ryan's balls. He carefully takes off her
headband, being careful not to mess up her hair. He kisses her on the forehead then looks
down at her face. She presses her body against his as she reaches in his pants. He surrenders
to her hand as she whips it out. (Hello) He thought to himself. It always looked different in
someone else's hand, and it felt different too. It was her's now. She got on her knees and
sucked his dick. Her mouth was as smooth as her silky skin. He never liked watching women
perform oral on him; he thought it was demeaning...But he wasn't going to stop her if she
wanted to. He'd much rather kiss her on the mouth though. Ryan brings her up to her feet
and gently kisses her on the lips, starting slowly. He didn't care if she just sucked his dick, it was
his dick anyways. He had to teach her to make love, even if they were inside the janitorial
closet. He kisses her softly then cups his hands cozily under her butt. He leans back against a
shelf and closes his eyes. He grabs her legs and has her wrap them around his waist as he pulls
down the back of her pants just enough to be comfortable. Her legs found room on the shelf
behind him; she adjusted her panties to make things easier. A smile she's never had before
overcomes her face. (We can do this here...He found a way to do it here.) They made love
while standing up with little exertion on either part. Her pussy was so hot, it burned like an
STD on the initial contact. He followed the burning sensation deeper inter her bosom...(The
warm place) he calls it. They melted together, two souls with two bodies and one mind. With
his eyes closed he could feel his dick fucking her heart; he could feel his dick fucking her brain.
She closes her eyes and moans as his sensations disperse. He moans too. All he felt was her,
all he knew was her, all he smelt was her.

Ryan bends his neck around in wrenching pain.

"Did you come?!"

"No, my back."


"We can stop?"

Ryan laughs:

"No, no, it's okay."

Messner and James were pursuing a jump gate. The gate retreated at a constant rate away
from them. If they accelerated the gate would quickly match their speed to escape,
occasionally letting loose a spare bogey in their path to distract them.

"It's like the jump gate's a ufo, and the ufos are projectiles!"


"However you wanna view it man...We need someone to flank.


"Aye aye, Sir."


Johnson approaches from the side of the gate as Messner and James slow down. The great eye
turns towards Johnson. Countless ufos bud across the surface of the gate. Johnson screams:
"Shit guys! Help me out!"
"You're protected."

Maldonado comes up behind Johnson firing a hollow beam that

surrounded his craft. She held the beam in position. The bogeys immediately in front of
Johnson were unaffected. "Fire already!" Johnson pulls the trigger with a focused narrow
beam hitting just one ufo. The explosion was so hot it caught the nearby ufos on fire. Some
of them tried to retreat back into the gate but dissentigrated before making the jump. The gate
itself appeared damaged and flickered like an antenna t.v. with poor reception. Then the portal

"Got 'em."
"You got lucky Johnson."




"YEAH, lucky I was here to back you up."

"I wasn't talking to you.

Not that you didn't need help."

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"Hey, watch out!"

The eye re-emerged. This time it was much larger. They waited as it flickered on; a couple of
ufo's spilled out. The surface of the portal then froze like a broken computer screen. The
ufo's that had just exited seemed to be thrown into a panic with their portal's malfunction.
One flew right into space, the others split off in random directions; they crashed onto the ground
in a senseless frenzy. The gate withered away slowly. The place it left in the sky was
somehow clearer after it was gone. The four Aces watched their enemy disappear without a
fight. James was sullen.


A question writhed inside of James' mind:


"What James?"
"The enemy, they're so expendable..."
"So what, we're expendable too.


I say kill 'em all."

"...It just bothers me."


"Don't you think it's strange?"

(He's not getting soft is he...?)

"Hey, lighten up man!

We won!"

"Yeah, you're right." (That's the problem...We're winning too easy...)

Peters overhears their conversation and adds in his own slant: "You wouldn't be saying the
same thing in an F-22 James! This fighter's a real piece of machinery. It feels weird being on
the winning side for a change, huh?"

James laughs:

"I guess I'm just not used to it yet."

Maldonado sped off.


"She's a firecracker."
"You can have her, she's all yours."

The biathlon champion Amelia Dostona stayed a safe distance from the opponents. Every pilot
has their own style. Her's was based on her biathlon sniping ability. The biathlon is a winter
olympic event that combines marksmanship with downhill skiing. Dostona sniped by using the
narrowest setting for the plasma ray, allowing her to aim from afar. It concentrated into an
extremely hot beam which could actually set the sky itself on fire if used improperly. She
would enter into the altered state and take out targets by manipulating the dials like the knobs
on her rifle scope. She never enters a dogfight, not for anything. All she does is adjust her was that easy. She probably is the best shot amongst all of the pilots; she calls
it painting with her laser...She does know how to ski in her Lynx...but she's never actually had to.
Jackson pulls up next to Dostona:

"Can I keep you company?"


"I work alone, I don't need help."


"I can give you more energy, you can use my field."


"You'll only get in the way!"


"I figure you're a better shot, I might as well keep your energy full."


"You're a fool.


"Don't you see?


"Leave Stone and Lt. Branstein out of this!"

Learn to shoot for yourself."

The game's changing...The SUN & The MOON!!!"

He stayed by her, sharing his field.

She doesn't travel far enough to escape it anyways.


"Why don't you give it a rest?"


"I hear they call YOU the sun?!"

"Only in Romania."

Dostona barks.

"Will you be my queen?" -Jackson.

She speeds off like a cannonball.
haven't separated since.

Jackson was prepared and already in hot pursuit.


Back on base Jackson and Dostona go everywhere together. They don't hold hands, but they
walk closely together like they're joined at the hip. Sometimes she would gesture at something

or point off in the distance; he would always look and smile.

(What is so fascinating?) -Maldonado was jealous. She spots James walking with Johnson and
Spoon. She pumps herself up all sexy like and walks up to them. "Hi Spoon. Hey guys."
Colonel Bobby Spoon says "Hey," as he laughs at her.
sense emotions, he wanted nothing to do with her.

Spoon was not a psychic; but as a dog can

Johnson didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say. He wasn't confused or
apprehensive, but he was a little intimidated by her beauty. James ignores her looking over at
the mess hall. James knew the drill, she's just a bimbo that needs attention.

"Where you guys going?"

"We're going back to the airfield."

Maldonado's eyes got wide:


Can I come?"


"Actually, I'm going over to the mess hall."


"Yeah, I'm going too."



I thought we were going to the airfield?"


"Naw it's cool Johnson, we'll go to the mess hall, you two have fun!"


"Bye Johnson, bye Stephanie."

Maldonado sends an evil smile at James revealing her real self. (You little liar. I see you.
think you're smart...You can't run from me. Two can play this game. You WILL lose!)


Her eye contact was unbearable as James forces himself to look away. The smile was so fake
but so gorgeous. (Is that what the devil looks like?) Somehow, James felt trapped like he had
already lost...because he already wanted to see her again.
Spoon jokes with James:
James laughs:

"I think she has her eyes on you man!"

"Hehe...there are worse things in the jungle."

"Like what?"

James looked back at Stephanie. She was facing him with Johnson standing in front of her.
She looked right past to James as she embraced Johnson, pulling him closer as she studied every
micron of James' reaction. (Gunner James doesn't fall for dirty hoes!) He reminds
himself...he had to...

...Minneapolis...the music shifts...

The skies over Minneapolis were replete with ufos.

The Special Air Unit had been called in to

remove the threat. The city was considered finished but the massive enemy forces remained,
spreading like a dark cloud over the countryside. Layers and layers of ufo's, stacked horizontally
and vertically blanketed the whole sky.
"What in the...?" -Peters
As the pilots carved out paths with their lasers, the world closed around them from the sheer
numbers. It was a bright afternoon on this lovely spring day, at least above the clouds. Even
though the gleaming metal generally reflected sunlight, the ufo's were so thick that it produced
an artificial darkness within their masses. The plasma rays of the Aces were like flashlights in
the dark; in the sense that, once the light is turned off darkness fills the void.
"So this is their new offensive..."-Ran Ran
The field was so thick with bogeys that they actually made a noise. The ufo's of the Grey Aliens
are normally quiet, or so the pilots all thought. This time, the numbers were so staggering that
they made a collective sound from the air being displaced around them. Air rushed and
whistled through the gaps between the ufos; this was the sound they produced. It wasn't their
propulsion system. It was the vibrations in the air that caused the noise.
"There's more ufos than open sky!"-Marshal
Everyone was in a sticky spot: Cutting their energy supply close, as well as their break meter.
Dostona and Jackson worked together with him providing her an endless supply of energy.
Dostona and Jackson's prowess helped divide the sky to create free space behind them. Pilots
would enter the throng of ufo's, destroy as many as possible, then retreat behind Jackson to
recover. Eventually the Greys caught on and flanked the two lovebirds. Dostona and Jackson
sped off on their own, sticking together...but they could no longer provide cover for the whole
"Somebody find their jump gates!"-Messner
"They're probably hidden within the masses of ufos!"-Fischer
"That's a real problem!"-Messner
Actually there were three jump gates that were constantly appearing and reappearing in
different places within the swarm replenishing their numbers. Occasionally a pilot would catch
a glimpse of one, only to have their view blocked by the masses of the enemy. The only pilots
who felt confident were Stone and Lt. Branstein, whose back to back Sun & Moon technique still
worked. They had each others back and they moved too fast to be flanked. They became the
new "safe place" their wake. Soon other pilots were trying to follow them, even offering
their field as support. But it was no use, the Sun & Moon moved too fast and they were busy
killing bogeys while focusing on each other. Like a comet in the night sky, Ryan and Felicia were
the shining light, other pilots tried to become the tail. It was a while before Ryan and Felicia
were aware they were being followed by other pilots. It came to Ryan's attention because this
"tail" was beginning to block off his movements, accidentally of course. Rather than flying
wherever he chose with Felicia, guiding the dance, he now has to worry about stepping on the
toes of other dancers who followed his movements. This made Ryan's movement pattern more
predictable and he could already notice the enemy respond. He didn't like that.

"Fuck off guys!"-Stone

Hardy, Johnson, Underwood, and Mather were following them. They didn't understand what
Ryan was talking about, they assumed he was referring to the bogeys. Nothing changed. As
Stone and Felicia maneuvered in a more controlled manner the throngs of ufos began to close in.
Felicia had mastered piloting with her eyes closed by tuning into Ryan's movements. Because
they were back to back, Felicia couldn't actually see Ryan move. She would sense his
intentions, and by closing her eyes her interpretations became that much more acute. Felicia
didn't need to see anything, she trusted Ryan, who took care to guide her nurturingly. Felicia's
eyes were closed, but even she noticed the world growing darker through her eyelids. She
sends him an impulse.

(I know! I know!)

Felicia opens her eyes, a ufo is heading directly towards her on a kamikaze collision course.
exits the altered state and breaks away in the nick of time.


"Ryan! Move!"

He flips his dials in rapid succession, narrowly escaping several more collisions like a pinball that
wasn't allowed to touch anything. Luckily for him, he was the best pilot. Johnson, Mather,
and Underwood, who had been following them, just disappeared.

"Too many, can't eject!


Hardy hits his G switch again and rockets straight forward with the plasma ray blazing.
Producing a very short beam that was the width of his Lynx, he plows through bogeys using his
craft as a kinetic projectile. It was a goal line dive in football, all he has to do is make it to the
other side.
...He makes it!

"We need a new strategy!" -Pulev

Nadia Pulev, having the most acrobatic movements of all pilots, was now the most concerned.
It appeared that her movement patterns were being tracked by the enemy. The Greys had
learned all of her capabilities. Whenever she exited the altered state, Nadia was forced to use
moves that she's only practiced in training. She was using up all the tricks stashed up her
sleeves. It was enough to keep her in the air. Now Nadia Pulev was becoming impatient.
Pulling out all stops, she had become the canary in the coal mine.


Le Mangerie:

"It's like they can read our minds!"

"How is that possible?"

Ran Ran and Marshal were criss-crossing the sky.

They would blaze past each other, close

enough to share their fields, but kept a safe distance as not to shoot at each other. They
continued this pattern weaving around each other like a giant figure eight. Where they crossed
paths in the center began to become more and more clear of the enemy.
Ran Ran:

"Everyone move towards the center!"

The cross-section where they met grew larger and larger. They likened their style to a constant
ambush. The enemy couldn't replace bogies fast enough. Eventually a large jump gate was
exposed below them. The portal faced up as the enemy flied vertically out of it.

"We found a jump gate!"

"Roger that!"

Now it was Fischer, Peters, Messner, Sanchez, Maldonado, Pulev, Marshal, and Benson doing
figure eights that met in the center of the throng. Every so often one of the pilots would dive
lower to try and assault the eye. But every time that happened the eye would shrink in size
and the pilot would miss. Sanchez came closest to hitting the thing. If the beam was too
wide, it wouldn't have the energy to incapacitate the gate. If the beam was too narrow, the
gate would shrink itself, then shimmy and dodge out of the way...tricky.

All of a sudden...the music stops!

As Sanchez dives for the jump gate it diminished into nothing. The gate itself warped away,
reappearing as a massive eye in the middle of the cross-section! It was blocking the path!
Fischer powerslides but he couldn't change direction fast enough. The side of his Lynx slams
into the portal as it explodes on impact, making ripples on the surface.


Peters has time to evade the structure, but it expands exponentially as he banks out of the way.
He clips the edge of the portal and his tail dissentigrates. Peters spins out of control as he
empties out his plasma ray, then smashes into a random bogie that just happened to be
speeding by.
"Cover us!" -Maldonado and Pulev straddle the great eye from both sides. Pulev got there first,
shooting a sharp beam that disrupted the eye and had an arresting function upon it.
Maldonado used a wider beam from the other side, blowing away the eye like a sand castle
under waves of water. Her rear was exposed. Pulev stalled into a nose dive and escaped a
blast coming towards her. Maldonado didn't have time to flee as the whistling sound could be
heard from behind...all her energy was consumed: She had used it all to destroy the gate!
A shockwave behind her blasted her craft forwards. Messner had stepped up to the plate. He
flew his craft perpendicular to hers, blasting every bogey that came near her. He even used the
hollow beam to cover her from all angles.

"Fly towards me!"

She turned her path directly towards Messner, who showered her on all sides with his plasma ray
of protection. Now Messner himself was in even more danger. She got closer to him. He
switches off his beam for an instant as Maldonado passes under him then she lets loose hers and
clears a space behind him. He turns his ray back on full power and allows the energy from the
blast to propel him backwards. It was an offensive retreat. Messner isn't an Ace, he's more
like the Joker.
Le Mangerie:

"One down, two left!"

"Who knows, maybe there will be more...Everyone, form into waterfall formation!"

Taking us back old school, hey Bobby!"

"Amelia and Jackson are to the southeast, merge behind them!"


"Ooooohhh Weeeeee! I'm excited boy!" Benson slaps the dash of his Cheshire 1 - Lynx.
slapped it really hard; it hurt his hand. Then he felt bad for a moment...(sorry girl.)


Dostona did her job of clearing away the enemy as the rest of the Special Air Unit formed behind
her. They were all being pursued, having to continue moving even after reaching the rally
point. Finally, the last of the unit, Stone and Branstein cautiously flew into position. They
began cascading immediately.
The modified waterfall formation for the Cheshire 1 - Lynx consisted of three rows of craft. One
pilot from the back row would bank hard by the front corner, allowing the pilot nearby to trigger
the altered state. As a chain reaction, all pilots in the front row would hit the G switch. The
pilots pointed their noses down at 45 degrees and moved together, sweeping out in front of
them in a circular motion approaching from the top. The 45 degree angle insured that the
flight path was clearing away all enemies before them. They used a wide beam to form a wall
of plasma that rained down like a waterfall. At the bottom they would then recede to the back
as the next row advanced from above. The time space suppression field remained at the front
as the pilots within the field changed out. This constant rotation produced a cascade that cut
down everything like an old fashioned lawn mower. The whole area of the sky was blackened
with walls of red flowing down; it looked like peering into another dimension.
The pilots advanced over the crumbled city, carving out a path until their beams hit the rubble
below. Everything below the clouds was fair game. Smaller jump gates appeared here and
there, exposing themselves like the prizes on liqueur store scratcher cards. The front row
washed away the bogies, revealing the gates. They would pass over the gates and the back two
rows would make sure to wipe the suckers out.
Eventually, the other large gate was also destroyed. Only one gate remained. The enemy was
thinning out its numbers; they were discouraged. The psychological effect of the loose
formation was working. Clearing away ufos like a snowplow, the enemy began to retreat away
from the massive storm of evil energy that was rushing towards them. The formation moved
slowly, eating the sky as it went along.

The last portal appeared in the sky above and behind the waterfall. As the pilots were angled
down at 45 degrees, the jump gate was positioned to exploit the waterfall's weak-spot.
(What is that I sense?!)
Spoon could feel something wrong and ordered James to guard the rear. Before the jump gate
could let loose its fury James was in its face blasting it head on with a very wide, low intensity
ray. The ray covered the entire area of the gate and froze its actions. It took longer than
necessary to destroy using the weak power setting.
Le Mangerie:

"What are you doing James?

Hurry up!"

"No, I'm going to enjoy this..." (This is for Fischer.)

He saw the eye wither away...He could feel it bend and buckle psychicly before disappearing
materially. It seemed to even beg for mercy; it would have none. A disgusting feeling leaves
James' belly as he flicks off the G switch. But the disgust lingered in his mind; now he hated the

Cape Canaveral

Colonel Bobby Spoon didn't make it back to his quarters that night after debriefing. Nadia had
invited him to go for a walk. She wanted to discuss something about the alien's mind reading
capacity. Somehow Bobby was less affected than the rest of the pilots. He agreed to talk to
her about it in private. They walked silently for a few minutes, producing small talk to fill the
Out of the dark, he was flanked on his other side by Stephanie Maldonado.
dress and makeup.




"Are you coming to the barracks?"



She was wearing a

"You have to come to the barracks."

"Alright, give us a minute."


"I came here to find you.


Nadia stops Spoon by softly putting her hand on his chest. He gets the impression.
of them walk to the barracks continuing small talk together.

The three

There was champagne and music. It qualified as a party.

honor. Everyone rushes to cheer and shake his hand.

Bobby Spoon was the guest of

(Lots of fanfare! For me!) A low-key guy, Spoon isn't used to this type of attention. They even
busted out a fancy flower necklace for him. Everyone was happy at the party. Some of them
viewed Spoon as their savior because of his actions in Minneapolis. He kept his cool and led
them to victory from behind. Though they hid it from him, some pilots were genuinely scared.
The Lynx was no longer invincible and Bobby Spoon held all the cards. Not everyone was
scared though...
There was gambling in the corner. Ryan Stone was sitting on a bed with Felicia relaxing behind
him. He slowly shuffled a deck as Benson was going on about some movie starring Klonu Rivas.
Stone stared into space, thinking too much; acting like his old self. Spoon came and sat on the
bed next to Benson.
"What's the buy in?" -Spoon
"Your life." Stone slowly looks up at Spoon.
haven't laughed like that in a long time.

The three of them bust out laughing.


"Where's Teetle?"

Benson gets serious for once:

"You know Patrick.

He's with his flight crew buddies now."

Benson seemed a little gloomy. Stone refuses to stand for it.

lonely me and Bobby can take turns with you."

"Come'on Donald, if you're that

Benson tightens up his asshole and chatters his teeth in laughter. Ryan and Bobby look at each
other in madness. It was hilarious. Even Felicia broke out a little smirk before she rolled over
on the bed away from them. Ryan rubs her side, caressing her thigh.
"Hey guys."

Stephanie Maldonado plops herself down adjacent to Spoon.

Nadia made her way like a cat and sits on Spoons other side in between him and Benson. Both
girls were right up on Bobby. He puts his arms around both of them; it seemed the most
natural thing to do. The two women also felt comfortable with it.
"Look at this guy." -Benson gives a mad stare at Stone, searching for a person of reason. Stone
understood, but he had no quarter for Benson. Madness reigned supreme as Donald looked
around the room and found his best friends were still next to him. "Let's get these cards
Ryan gives a no-bullshit look to the Colonel:

"Are you in Bobby?"

Stephanie flips her hair around turning to Bobby. Some of it slaps him in the face; it smelled
good. She puts her hand on his leg close to his crotch. He looks over to Nadia who was giving
him a similar gaze.

"Actually, I'm gonna sit this one out."

The three of them left the party. He never made it back to his quarters that night.
good day to be Colonel Bobby Spoon.

It was a

Chapter 6:

The Death of Bobby Spoon

Dr. Bian, Commander Wilson, Felicia Branstein, and several other scientists conducted a special
meeting with Colonel Bobby Spoon. They wanted to know how he had managed to
successfully use the waterfall formation in an otherwise hopeless situation. The Commander
and the good Doctor Bian had an inkling, but they wanted to hear it from the horses mouth.
They wanted others to hear it as well.
The blue and pink headbands worn by the women acted as mind control barriers. There have
been problems in the past with the aliens directly controlling the minds of sensitive Lynx pilots
during transitions in and out of the altered state. The headbands held no special technology,
but it gave the girls a camaraderie that strengthened their group consciousness. The girls
chose blue and pink because they liked the colors. Their concealed matching wristbands were
composed of the same beads but arranged in different patterns -friendship bracelets. The
wristbands added a touch of individuality so they wouldn't fall under control as a group.
Fashion and girl power helped the women protect themselves against outside influences.
The men's involvement in the Lynx project forced some of the women to break away from the
group consciousness. This was Arabian's idea. He wanted the women to surpass the group
consciousness, but in a natural way. He knew that the aliens would crack the girls' "code"
eventually, so he had to produce a countermeasure by folding in the Special Air Unit. This
would also provide training and give the men a necessary bump in consciousness to pilot the
Lynx...a win/win situation.
Such successful pairs as the Sun and Moon, and Jackson and Dostona were the aim that Dr. Bian
was shooting for. He knew that some pilots would fall through the cracks and suffer the
consequences...The losses of Minneapolis were expected by Bian, sooner or later.
But did Bian learn anything new about the aliens? No he did not.
more about human beings...Bian pretends to hear it for the first time:

He did learn something

"So you were drinking in your aircraft!" -Bian

Commander Wilson follows up Bian by slapping a folder on Spoon's desk, he leans over and yells
at him: "That is unacceptable!"
Bobby squints his eyes at the Commander:

(Why are you putting on a show?!)

It was the same look Bruce Griffith gave him before he went AWOL. The Commander adjusts
his tie as he steps back, giving a distant gaze to Bobby. Of course, Wilson and Bian had to
pretend they didn't already know about this. As superiors they had to keep up the charade of
protocol. Now it was Bobby's turn.
He raises his eyebrows as he unfolds his arms, waiting for someone else to say something...

"Rye whiskey."

"What?" -Wilson

"I was drinkin' rye whiskey, the good stuff."

With that, Bobby pulls out a flask from his pants pocket, he takes a swig then holds out his flask.

"Anybody want some?"

Felicia was boiling over.


It was 9:48 am!

She storms out the room but Wilson stops her at the

Spoon: "You know, Marshal and Ran Ran have been smoking bud together for weeks."
laughs, "I bet you didn't know that!"


"Interesting!" (Another successful pair!)

Bian looks crazily at Felicia, expecting her to spill the beans.


"What about you and Ryan?!"

"What about me and Ryan?!"


"You know!

I've seen you!"

Felicia looks like she's in pain:

Wilson backs off.

"Come'on Uncle Joe!"

They were family.

He had to respect her.

A haughtiness takes over Felicia, "Me and Ryan...We're high on life!"

Sometimes she can be a little arrogant. The Commander would have let her go blow off some
steam, but this meeting was too important. She had to hear all of this. Spoon didn't like it
either; he didn't think drinking alcohol was some kind of special super power. Angel just had
balls. Spoon was trying to figure out a way to share his wisdom without recommending
everyone else get drunk. While they were on the subject, he takes another gulp of his flask,
finishing it...He was stressed out.

"Altered states."

Spoon: "Isn't it all about altered states?

who's drunk."

Maybe it's harder to read the mind of someone


"That's because there's nothing going on!"



He drinks again, getting the last few drops.


Wilson puts his hand on Felicia's shoulder.

"Calm down, this is serious."

She throws him off her shoulder but continues to stand next to him, staring intently at Bobby.
His next few words would make or break him, at least in her eyes...But perhaps that meant
everything; she represented all the women at that meeting. Hell, she might as well have
represented every woman in the history of planet earth.

Bobby casually puts the cap on and stashes away his flask. He did it in a manner as though he
was the only person in the room; he could have been the only person in the world for all he
cared. Felicia's eyes got wide.

"So what's the plan?"

Spoon: "I don't know, the Greys will probably take a while to regroup and formulate a new
strategy. We should take the offensive right now."
Bobby smiles like the famous Cheshire Cat, looking up at Bian and Wilson...He knew offense was
impossible but he had to say that for his own amusement.
Wilson's face was serious...he took Bobby's words to heart. Wilson knew that offense was
impossible. Wilson knew that Bobby knew that as well. Bobby was hinting that the
Commander Wilson and Dr. Bian should do their jobs and lead...protocol. As a military man,
the logical step after routing an enemy was always to follow up and finish the job. It is called
momentum, and every moment that we didn't use ours gave the Grey Aliens the opportunity to
rebuild theirs. Wilson knew this. Bringing Bobby into the hierarchy wasn't a choice he
wanted to make. Bringing his niece into the war wasn't a choice he wanted to make. He
didn't want to even work with Dr. Bian, especially considering his dubious origins. When was
the last time the Commander made a choice he wanted to make? He felt like going AWOL
himself; but to WHERE? He was fully entrenched. Now Felicia is in the war. He didn't want
to abandon her and spend his last days fishing. She is a good thing. Her and Ryan are a good
Dr. Bian and Bobby had talked about this subject a million times. Truth is; they already had a
plan worked out for this scenario. They were playing good cop/bad cop with the fate of the
human race. Now it was Arabian's turn as the good cop.
The plan was risky.
Bian: "We must pick our poison. It is safe to assume that the aliens not only read our mindz
in battle, but also all the time. Even when we are sleeping!"
Everyone looks frightened except for Bobby, who was playing with a pen on the desk.
what Bian was going to say.

He knew

Bian: "We must lower our consciousness to the borderline with the animal! Zen the aliens
will be in pain to even read our minds. It can be assumed zat the aliens have a higher
intelligence than us. However, they have a weakness in relating to nature. If we lower our

"NO, I'm not lowering my consciousness!"

"Just listen!"

Bian: "If we lower our consciousness the alienz will have to lower theirs as well. Maybe they
are incapable of doing this! Perhaps they will go crazy, or separate their minds from their
bodies in their attempts to control us. They will overstep known boundaries and get lost
outside of their bodies, thinking that we are simple human beings, when in reality...we have set
a trap for them within our own consciousness."

This was kind of off the deep end for Wilson, but he patiently listened not having any better
ideas himself. They all pause and look at Bobby. He shrugs in neutral agreement.

"It iz not a key to victory, but it can protect us for a while!"


"So how do we lower ourselves into the animal state?"

"No, to the edge of the animal state."

Felicia shakes her head:

"I'm not doing this!"

Spoon talks expressively with his hands, "You just have to pick your poison. It can be anything.
If you know yourself, you can choose something that comes natural to you and actually makes
you a stronger person. The key is to know yourself very well..."

"Like you!

You drunk!"

Bobby leans back in his chair, shrugging with his hands out sideways: "...That's how you stay
close to the edge. Don't become the animal, but use your own animal inside of you."
"It's like a Native American legend." -Wilson mutters and clears his throat.
"I'm sure Felicia," Bobby smiles curtly at her before letting out a sigh, "that the Greys have no
trouble controlling the minds of animals...but something that is on the edge, something that
blurs the line...maybe we can trick them."
"Trick 'em?" -A light bulb hits her head.
Wilson nods:

"The human animal."

Later that day...


"What about our divine passcode?"

Bian raises an eyebrow.


"Yeah, I remember back in Georgia you said something about that."

"We're trying something different now."

Layed out in front of the whole team on a canvas were vast quantities of every type of drug and
narcotic known to man, legal and illegal. Cases of alcohol and different spirits from all over the
world were in boxes behind it. There was another stack of pornographic materials, books,
videos, toys, covering every type of fetish and fantasy.

"Where are the hookers?"

"I want you to corrupt yourselves.

Do whatever you have to do."

There were even strange violent snuff films. Where did the Air Force get all this stuff? Bobby
felt uneasy. He wasn't the only one. He was standing next to Dr. Bian and he could sense his
comrades looking at him, eyeing him suspiciously, comparing him with Bian.

"No, not like this, this wasn't the plan."

"We have to do something..."


"As opposed to sitting and doing nothing!"



"This is mostly guy stuff."

Wilson: "The idea is to find a new comfort zone outside of your normal comfort zone.
to be something the aliens wouldn't expect. Those are your orders."

It has

He kinda told everyone to start fucking. Peoples eyes met. Guys eyes met girls eyes, guys
eyes met guys eyes, girls eyes met girls eyes. People were looking at each other trying to pair
off and find their match. It was awkward.

"Sounds kinda gay."


"If that's what you're into pilot."

"No, I'm calling YOU gay."

Wilson was perturbed, he didn't expect this.

was stone-faced.


"Do whatever pleases you."


(Dammit Bian!!! This is your grand plan!!!)

"By doing something that normally doesn't please you?"

"We're suggesting you find a new pleasure."


"Or a new pain."

"Who's we?"

Maldonado walks up to Bobby grabbing him by the sleeve, "There are some things I'd like to try."
She turns around to see if anyone wants to join her, then she drags Bobby away from the
Stone, Benson, Marshal, and James give each other concealed crazy looks. All four of them
were ready to go AWOL right there. Jackson, Messner, Sanchez and French were all standing at
attention like proper military men; not even blinking an eye. Hardy was digging through the

"Most of these movies are from the 70's."

"We can get more."


"Get me some baking soda.

I'm gonna make myself some crack!"

Ran Ran goes to investigate, "I wanna see if they have some huang jiu."

"We do have some.

We also have bai jiu."


"What's she talking about?"


"Some sort of Chinese liquor."


"Do you guys have gambling?"

Le Mangerie:

Putting her hand on Ryan's bicep.


You gotta be kidding me.

Do I have to corrupt everyone here

"Gambling, oh yes, we forgot that."

Commander Wilson turns to Bian:

"I think they're missing the point of the exercise."

Arabian's face pointed into a sneer, (I know, this isn't going to be as easy as I thought! We must
find a way to get them out of their current vices and into more vices.) Bian addresses the
whole unit: "If your grandmother would not approve you must do it! If your father would not
approve you must do it! If you do not approve, you must learn to enjoy it! Do you
understand? Find a new home in the darkest recesses of your psyche! You must make the
alien's terrified to read your mindz! You must make the alien choose death, rather than read
your mind!"
Hardy dropped the tapes:

"That fucker's serious!"

Wilson: "We don't want you to become like animals; we just want you to become a little more
Stone's face relaxes then tenses up again, (I think I'm beginning to understand...I kinda like this

That night Bobby had a dream. It took place in a circus. All the members of the Special Air
Unit were there, dressed as clowns. They held hands in concentric circles and danced around
and around. In the center of the circles was a Grey Alien. The Grey was trying to catch the
clowns in the small circle around it. It tried to grab one clown at a time but the dancing and
rotation made the Grey lose its target. Then the Grey would try to grab another clown pilot,
but it gave up as soon as it had attempted to leave its position at the very center of the circles.
It was hopeless for the Grey, like picking on an insect. The pilots had disturbing laughter and
painted clown smiles. It was not clear who the real enemy was; the dream left it open to
His view shifted to a position above the room, the mandala rotated around the single Grey.
Then the Grey looked up in hope and met eyes with Bobby. The face of this being now covered
up his entire vision, shrouded in darkness around it. They were communicating telepathically.
Bobby didn't get the message. Then the face of the Grey tore apart like paper mache and
another face replaced it. It was the face of another Alien, with deep green skin and blocky

features like an Olmec statue, except the face was more rectangular than square. This being
had human eyes, except they were yellow around the pupil. The face stood there motionless
as the eyes searched for something in front of it. Then the creature, whose face covered his
whole vision, found Bobby's eyes. The round pupils instantly changed to vertical slits as it tried
to take over Bobby's mind. Bobby forced himself to wake up. He sat up breathing heavily.
He looked around himself. There were empty bottles on the floor. A bag of yayo was busted
open on the carpet. He thought about the night before...Him and Stephanie...He was involved
in things he couldn't remember. Maybe he didn't want to remember. (Was that a dream).
Last night didn't even seem real, it was all blurred together in his mind. (What did she have me
Somehow he thought of her as a negative influence. But how could that be? She slept so
peacefully; she looked even more beautiful in sleep. That was when her real beauty showed.
He tries to go back to sleep but he had a terrible headache. He got up to get a glass of water
and returned to bed. The things he had to traverse that were left on the floor from the night
before cannot be described here. Let's just say the crossing was perilous. When he made it
back to bed he looked at her again. She was having a dream too, a nice dream. In her sleep
she seemed to be in love. It felt like love emanating from her. He shut his feelings out and
looked at the floor, drinking his water. (How can she seem so innocent?) He lay back down.
He doesn't want to go back to bed with this monster; but it was his bed. Of all the times he had
guts, laying back down next to her was one of his greater moments in life.
Although Stephanie was knocked out, she grabs him as soon as he lay back down, sinking her
nails into Bobby's chest. He can read her feelings...the love was gone. He was just there to
provide her with comfort. She did look comfortable. He is not the type to deny comfort to
any woman. He tries to cuddle back with her and return to sleep.
Then he has more dreams...
First, he is bathing in a vermilion light. It surrounded him, penetrating him, giving him its
wisdom. Physically, he can still feel her warm body snaked around his like a constrictor. He
focuses on the green light; it begins to fluctuate. He can feel Stephanie's body melt away and
he follows this light to a new scene. He is in an 18th century sailing vessel, standing in the
Captain's quarters at the bow of the ship. He was the Captain; charts are on his desk in front of
him. Through a window in front he can see land for the first time, a gleaming island paradise
that was lucid in its quality. It is off in the distance. The ship itself seemed alive with organic
materials, even the bars of his windows. The sense of nature surrounded him as the ship was a
complex construction composed of conscious, alive, shifting, natural elements. The shining
island struck his mind, but the ship itself struck his soul. The lucid island became brighter and
brighter with its colors until he was surrounded in a kaleidoscopic.
He can feel his heart and mind breathing deeply in unison. He was half asleep; left the choice
to awake or not. He couldn't feel Stephanie's body next to his. He doesn't want to awaken
and find her missing so he focuses on her energy, trying to capture her essence. There was
nothing! He slowly opens his eyes, still breathing solely in his mind. She was facing him; now
she is more emotionless than before, but a connection remained. He opens his mouth intently
and fills his lungs up with their first taste of air; this brought him back down to earth. Now she
seemed like an ordinary woman, not Stephanie Maldonado, Maxus Magazine's Sexiest Woman

Alive. She didn't seem to belong in the Special Air Unit.


Perhaps she didn't belong

He gets out of bed this time...(Enough of this nonsense!)...As he starts to clean up the place he
could feel her switch back to lovey dovey mode, then she rolls over in bed and cuddles with
herself, content as ever. It was only self love. (Uhhhggggg Man! Fuck!) He needed a
dustpan, a vacuum, and a mop -not to mention towels. His hangover was coming back. He
thought of the ship and his dream. (Is that how they viewed the vessels then? As living
things? Is that how they viewed technology then?) He looked around himself. (Who cares?
Save it for the next lifetime!)

It took Bobby an hour and a half to clean up his small dormitory. The girl on the bed away in
dreamland, she didn't help clean up the mess. The room was still a little dirty when Bobby
hears the alert siren. He was so fucking hung over. He takes his time going into his closet to
put on his clothes. Stephanie opens her eyes and looks at him. His nonchalant attitude
throws her off and she decides it's not an emergency, rolling over back to sleep. She tuned out
the siren like it was part of a dream. Who gave a fuck? He didn't feel like waking her. After
the past day he wasn't even sure if she was human, whatever human is supposed to mean.
Bobby left the room strolling down the hallway as other servicemen ran like maniacs trying to
get to their stations. He forgot something! His flask!
Spoon goes back to the room, picking up his step to a normal walking pace. He grabs a whole
bottle of gin from the table. It was the only alcohol left; he didn't like that shit. He quietly
searches around the room for some whiskey, trying not to wake Stephanie. She opens her
eyes, rubbing them hard. She sits up on her elbows addressing the situation.



"Is there an alert?"

"It's a drill?"


She lay on her back rubbing both hands against her temples. She is more hung over than he is.
The room was mostly clean; her memories of last night seemed less real than Spoon's.

"So, what are you...?"

She didn't have energy to finish her sentence. Spoon looks at her as though she is irrelevant.
He searches under the covers near her feet for some whiskey. Her feet were perfect...not that
he cared.
It would be gin today. Bobby took the whole bottle, this time power walking down the hallway.
He didn't even say goodbye to Stephanie: It wasn't his job to tell her what to do.

The Special Air Unit rendezvoused in Texas over the high desert.

Some of the pilots were late.

It was acceptable given the circumstances. Everyone was there except for Stephanie. No one
asked about her; lots of pilots had rough nights last night. The arrival of Colonel Spoon cooled
everyone down; the enemy was nowhere to be seen.
Ryan Stone was already communicating with Dr. Bian on the radio. The alert had been
triggered by something...Bian was coordinating with Commander Wilson and other staff trying
to discern what happened. Suddenly, Bian screams into the radio!

"Hold on!

Do not go anywhere!

I am coming to you!"

The radio clicked off.

A giant gate appeared in the sky, eclipsing the sun.

(They're here.)
"Spoon, orders Sir!"

Spoon is silent. He drained a few ounces of gin.

was still on. (They're waiting for me. Fuck!)

(Oooooh Boy!

That's gross.)

The radio

"...No orders."

Le Mangerie glances to the side. (He's a loser now...) She was on the cusp of assuming
command herself when another voice was heard on the radio.


He's better at taking orders."

Her voice sounded odd coming through a scraggly frequency. No one got the joke.
the last pilot to arrive; now she was blazing through downing Spoon out of the blue.
no hero.

She was
She was

The single eye in the sky spouted out a few bogeys per second, hardly enough to challenge an
individual Lynx pilot. Everyone was cautious in approaching the jump gate. They all
suspected a trap. Pulev took over, deciding to implement an ascending Fibonacci screw
formation aimed at the portal: She wanted to keep the eye mesmerized. The pilots follow
her orders. She is a good leader; but would she lead them to victory?
As they approach the eye the screw opens up in the center, fraying outwards towards the
perimeter. They blast the fuck out of it from the edges facing inwards, the best method for
destroying those things. They could see that this eye was different, it had a green lining around
it. The eye vanishes; a small portion of it collapses into time and space itself, taking a chunk of
reality with it. A piece of the sky was missing, leaving a beige cloud behind. Winds rush to fill
the void and this creates a suction. The "cloud" turned into a mini wormhole. Pulev was
taking point, her craft was positioned close to the cloud and was being sucked in.
Unfortunately, she wasn't pulling enough g's to enter the altered state.
She tries to evade but her craft was beginning to stretch and dematerialize before the eyes of the
other pilots.

Spoon panics:

"Eject Nadia!


She pulls her lever, ejecting; giving the other pilots a split second to rush in and blast the
wormhole. Their plasma rays get sucked in like spaghetti noodles. Everyone has to turn away
before they get sucked in as well. Her parachute went in first. She reaches out to her friends
in a hopeless gesture, smiling. It was her way of saying goodbye.
"NADIAAAAA!!!" -Spoon whips around his Lynx in some chivalrous act.
"SPOON!" -Stone stops him in the knick of time..."She's gone."
Felicia had tears running down her cheeks. Nobody says anything else. The despondency had
reached its zenith when an evil laughter was heard on the radio. It was Bian!


"They set a trap!

For ME!"

Bian had come to rendezvous but his path was blocked by another portal. It strafed sideways,
always remaining in Arabian's path, even from a distance of many kilometers away. UFO's of all
sizes flow out of the thing. Even other portals could be seen flowing out with ufo's flying out of

"Hmmm, so they use the Fibonacci against us!"


"Dr. Bian, where are you?!"

"To the east!"


"We'll get there, hold on!"

"HO! HO! HO! HO! HO! HO! HO! HO! HO!"


His laughing was hysterical.


The radio went silent. Nobody expected Dr. Bian to last more than a few seconds. There
were no screams heard on the other side. It was a seemingly quick death...but the radio went
quiet for an entirely different reason...Bian just didn't give a damn about backup!

"Zat's why Zey call me, IRON BIAN!!!"

Ran Ran's face overcame with shock. (Is that Dr. Bian?!) She slows down her craft to a pause,
refusing to fly east towards the madman. "No, I'm not flying there. He's crazy!"
Marshal banks hard, almost hitting Le Mangerie in the process.
the rear. "You'd better go babe..."

He approaches Ran Ran from

"No way, I'm not going there!" Terrible sights were seen in the distance.
Bian as an excuse, but she was actually scared of death itself.
Messner was angry:

"Come 'on you two!

Bian needs us!"

"No, I'm staying here, with Ran Ran."

Ran Ran was using

The team was crumbling before it even reached the enemy. No one knew what lay ahead of
them, all they could see were strange shapes and patterns reflecting the sunlight. Metal mixed
with smoke creating an optical illusion, and there was an occasional red beam indicating that the
struggling mad scientist is still alive...

"We'll make sure to cover your rear!


"Urmmm!" -Messner growls in disapproval.


"It's alright."
"Just cover us man!"

The squad of Lynx's advanced forward, gliding through the air like frisbees.

"Where's Maldonado?"


"I'm going to watch the rear as well."

The phantasmagoria became increasingly apparent as the pilots approach Arabian's position.
Sheer numbers were no longer enough to curb the Aces; now the Grey Aliens were using

"This is going to get ugly."

Bobby took a gulp of his elixir. He still has half a bottle left. The gin was harsh. "Gwhaaa"
He gags, but somehow holds in his vomit. His brain became warm and he could feel his pineal
gland glaze over. "The good stuff!"

"Are you drinking right NOW!"

Bobby was drunk; His tolerance for gin was not as good as his tolerance for rye whiskey.

"Are you alright?"


"Awe, man.



I'm fucked up!"

Stone cracks a smile. He never guessed the big Colonel Bobby Spoon was such a Thundercat.
Staying in the air became Bobby's main task at the moment, let alone fighting the enemy.

"I can't believe this!"

Spoon: "Alright! Ahem!


We'll dooooo, flowing river.


Let's cut right through to

Spoon could be heard throwing up on the radio. He gunked up his own controls, covering his
dials in a slimy ooze. He'd be unable to enter the altered state now.

"Oh shit!

Uh, Messner!

Can you take point?"


"You IDIOT!"

Le Mangerie:


"Don't talk to me like that you stone cold bitch!

I heard you used to be WHORE!"

"You don't talk to anyone like that you FUCKIN' BASTARD!"

Messner smiles, showing his true colors. "Damn women, this game was fucked the moment you
came to Georgia!"

"Who's playing games?!"

Messner adopts a threatening tone:

Dostona shuts him down:

"Aw, man.


"Talk about it."

"Come on STONE, your girl's outta line STONE..."

"Why don't you go gamble and whack off you pervert!"

This sucks balls dude."

Messner: "Rotten women!

my boxers."

They don't belong in the military.

They belong at home cleaning

Before the women could complete the soap opera, Messner had his hands full entering the
formation of enemies. It was Messner's turn to take point, but he went off on his own into the
mist, leaving the squad behind. He had turned off his radio. That is the last time they saw

"Messner wait!"


"Aw, fuck Messner man.



I'll take point."

The Special Air Unit didn't have a choice. They had to go into the throng of enemies and find
Arabian's red light. Hardy was closest; he took point by default. The formation flowed
forward, bridging and creating a path to Bian. They took turns moving like a very very long line
of leapfrog, cremating the sky itself. They didn't look for enemies; they didn't have to because
they were all around. The sky had become the enemy, just like in Minneapolis. Their only
objective is to find Bian and regroup.
Out of the ethers a red light appears. The slithering snake of the flowing river formation didn't
have to travel far to find him. It wasn't about how far they had to travel...It was about what
they found when they reached him.
Perfection in form, like Mozart or Bach, even Van Gogh. Felicia almost wet her pants. He was
amazing! Formless actions that were hard to trace on the Lynx's own radar...He was pushing
the Cheshire 1 - Lynx to it's limits, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. The enemy formed
different shapes using their ufo's as a team. Sometimes forming a giant hand that grabbed at

him...Bian would explode through the fingers. They formed the shape of a rose, then the
entire flower blasted him at once with the beams of a thousand individual bogies...He dodged it
slipping right through the middle. It even baffled Ryan Stone's mind. Bian would circle the
enemy; his beam looked like glowsticks twirled in a rave. He could do loose formations as an
individual pilot; Bian was that good. He approached portals tangentially staying a few feet
from the surface, flanking the enemy before the entirety of their craft could even leave the
gates. The ufo's formed a giant wave which chased him constantly with its tip always on
Arabian's tail; but his movements were so precise he made no effort to dodge it. Bian was a
living Fibonacci sequence! He performed the golden ratio naturally in his acrobatics, even
juking out the enemy who used the same technique. The Special Air Unit had actually arrived
too late, not to save Dr. Bian, but to catch his whole show.

"What the...?!"


"How does he have so much energy?!"


"He's doing Fibonacci cutbacks to maintain his own field!"


"With no energy?!"

Le Mangerie:

"It's theoretically possible..."

"Theoretically possible?!

Looks like he's doing it!"

"How does he do it?"

The enemy retreated like cowards, returning to their portals. Suddenly, all of the portals
vanished. Maldonado had sped up behind the Special Air Unit. She tried to get a closer look
at Bian.

"Where's Marshal and Ran Ran?"

"Doctor Bian!" -Stephanie's voice was fiendish.

She pulls up in front of Bian and flares her plasma ray, catching him off guard -incinerating him.
He didn't even have time to respond.

"She's under direct mind control!!!"

"Didn't I fuck her yesterday!" -Bobby Spoon had the look of ultimate disgust!!!
that bottle of gin and kills it.

He opens up

Sanchez and French give chase. They were just mediocre pilots. Maldonado actually waited
for them to enter into the altered state so she could use their own field against them with no
energy expenditure of her own. They pursued her. When they got close enough she flew
backwards, strafed and barrel rolled, squeezing between them to get behind. She kills them
both with one blast! If the other pilots could see her face, she would have looked possessed by
a terrible entity, grinning...The Special Air Unit was in shock.

"So she was an alien the whole time?!"



She speaks on the radio in a sweet tone:

"Bobby Spoooooonnnnnn..."

She comes for Bobby, forcing him to maneuver his stationary craft. She chases him down. He
did his best to evade her, but he couldn't enter into the altered state. She had a distinct
advantage...Spoon is in trouble.
The remaining members of the Special Air Unit attempt to blast her to smithereens. She gives
up the chase, but Spoon was losing control of his craft anyways...the gin. Maybe it was the
stress that killed him. He coasted into a mesa. Having so much time to turn away, it looked
like slow motion to the other pilots.
The person that was Maldonado halted in midair. Her craft then dipped and shot straight
towards the ground, exploding on impact. The suicide was to evade capture. She was on a
mission: Kill Dr. Bian and Colonel Spoon. All other targets were irrelevant...But she should
have tried to kill everyone. It was a mistake on their part. They forgot one man.
Ryan Stone bit his lip, drawing blood.

He would have his revenge.

Chapter 7: Into the Break Point

"Stop IT!!!"
Crash!!! A glass shatters against the wall. Ryan Stone was in his quarters with Felicia.
kicks over the table, separating the table top from its base.


"I said STOP IT!!!"

Nothing could stop Ryan Stone now. He runs over to the wall and throws a punch combination
as he sidesteps, each blow penetrating into the plaster. His hands were bloodied. He kicks his
couch. He grabs a pillow from his bed and rips it to shreds.


He grabs another pillow and rips it to shreds. He runs over to the broken table, taking a table
leg off. It was attached by a bent nail and didn't want to come off. Stone uses his foot as
leverage to tear it away. Now walking around his room smashing everything in sight, Felicia
stood there motionless. She didn't have any answers. Ryan smashes his windows, he
smashes his fridge, he smashes his desk, his t.v., he smashes his computer! The only thing he
didn't intentionally wreck were the pictures of his family, everything else was fair game.


He runs in his kitchen to grab a frying pan.

Felicia was screeching:


Hitting himself on the side of the head.

"STOP IT!!!"

"GRRRRRRRRRRR" -He hits himself again.

"STOP IT!!!"
"GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAA" -And again, and again.
Felicia comes between him and the frying pan, grabbing his arm.
"HEH, HEH, HEH..." -Ryan was panting like a dog.

His head was bleeding.

Ryan's breathing slows down and Felicia sits on the ground, almost collapsing under her own
weight. Ryan leans back against the broken fridge and comes down too.
Now he was calm. He looked at her. Ryan felt like a savage monster for putting her through
that. She is shaking her head like a nervous wreck.

"I'm sorry."

Felicia balls out in tears.


"At least we have each other."

Her crying stops.


She slides over to Ryan and he puts his arm around her.


Her sniffling sounded beautiful.

They hold each other for a while, breathing in unison.

They both looked outwards into infinity.

"Hmm," Ryan lets out a sigh.

They gently go to sleep.

Knock Knock Knock...Knock Knock Knock...Boom!!! Military Police kick open the door to Ryan's
room. Him and Felicia get to their feet before the MP's can assess the situation. Felicia goes
up to them and explains: "We were just having a party."
MP Sergeant:

"I'm taking someone in for this.

The Special Air Unit's been causing a raucous

Felicia puts her hand on the man's chest, looking him in the eyes...She was using her magic,
walking him backwards out the door as she explains to him: "It's just a little party. You know.
The Special Air Unit does all the fighting. We have to let loose."
MP Sergeant:

"This is disorderly conduct of..."

She interrupts him, taking her hands off his chest; he was outside the door:
Commander Wilson."
"All 'cuz you're his niece doesn't mean..."
looking at Ryan Stone.

"Go get

The Sergeant tries to stick his head in the door,

Felicia points her finger in his face, using the gesture to maintain eye contact.
Commander Wilson." She slams the door in his face.

"Go get

The frustrated MP's can be heard swearing their heads off as they walk down the hall.
Ryan was assessing his own damage. Felicia was smiling; she grabs Ryan by the hand and sits
him down on the couch. The cushions were tore up. She kicks off her shoes. They make
love right there. The door to Ryan's room was broken, swinging on its hinges.

When the Commander came over at the behest of the military police, he saw Ryan and Felicia
laying on Ryan's bed. They had covers over them, but they were naked. The MP's tried to
infuriate Wilson and get him in a huff, telling bad stories about things they heard; insinuating
that somehow Ryan was engaging in domestic violence. Wilson didn't want to believe it.
Wilson didn't believe it. Who cares about a fourth hand account? He has a war to run.
The Commander wanted to have a meeting with the pilots anyways. Things were not going
well with the war. All protocol had broken down a long time ago. Now the Commander of
Earth Forces in the western hemisphere was having a meeting with his two top operatives naked
in bed. At least they weren't beating each other up...He knows how mean Felicia can be.
Felicia was asleep. Ryan is looking Wilson right in the eyes when he walks over. Wilson didn't
even address the fact Ryan was with his niece. He looked around for a chair to sit at the foot of
the bed.

Wilson mutters to Ryan as Felicia blinks awake:

"I gotta get a chair..."

The Commander walks out and comes back two minutes later with a metal folding chair. He
leans back with his hips out, getting comfortable. Him and Ryan take a long look at each other.

"Any ideas...?"

Stone takes his time in answering..."Nukes."



Felicia furrows her brow trying to understand it herself. She distances herself, leaning away
from Ryan, looking at his face. He was dead serious. Felicia and her uncle patiently wait for
him to elaborate.

"It's risky...but...I'll take the risk myself."

Felicia's eyes got wide:

Stone sighs:


"I've actually been thinking about it for a while."

Wilson recognizes Stone's resolve:


"What did you have in mind?"

"You know their portals...We've never been inside..."

An hour later...

Ryan Stone's Lynx couldn't be modified with missiles; that was impossible. Stone would be
taking an F-22 Raptor on that day. Lieutenant Teetle was a part of the flight crew that prepared
the craft with nuclear armament.
Stone hadn't talked to Patrick Teetle in a long while. Teetle didn't even know about Spoon's
death. After talking about how they both had been, Ryan sits Patrick down before he could ask
about Bobby. Patrick's shoulders were relaxed, he let his arms hang freely at his side. He
already knew. Ryan tells him but hides the major details of how Spoon dies.
Patrick gets up, recovering both mentally and emotionally.
on the aircraft: "So how did it happen?"
Ryan looks down to the side:

He wasn't even sure himself.

"What happened?"
"Stephanie Maldonado killed him."

He grabs a wrench, starting to work

He does his best to try and


"She killed Dr. Bian too before she killed herself."

Patrick drops his wrench and looks at Ryan's face; he's never been more serious. There was no
lie in his eyes. Patrick puffs out some air in an audible exhale, picks up his wrench and gets
back to work.

"So what are you doing today?"


I'm gonna cluster pluck their eye out..."




"But you can't go inside!

Fischer died hitting the surface."

The Special Air Unit was assembled for an emergency meeting...Hardy had a smile on his face all
day; from the moment he heard Ryan's plan he hasn't been able to contain himself.

"Yeah, but Fischer was banking.

He hit it sideways."


"So if you hit it head on it's safe?"


"It's like skipping a rock on water.


"But if you throw a stone right into water it will sink."

Hardy laughs:

"Throw a Stone!

If it hits at an angle it will skid across."

Benson, I didn't know you were a wordsmith."

Benson smiles, shifting on his feet.

Le Mangerie:

"So what's Major Stone going to do once he gets inside?"

"He's going to fire!"

Le Mangerie:

"But you have no idea what's in there!"

Wilson shrugs his shoulders:

"We're arming him with a full nuclear package."

Hardy nods his head: "Two purified hydrogen bombs, four thermo-nukes, and an array of mini
nukes in case he needs it."
"Shit." -James' mind is blown.
"We still don't know if he can get inside! The portal looks solid!" Amelia's thick Romanian
accent was starting to come out. "We can't afford to lose ANY more good pilots."

"I've seen the ripples on the surface."


"Yeah, me too."


"We shouldn't risk it."

Le Mangerie:

"Sounds like a suicide mission."

"I've already talked to Ryan about this.

He came up with the plan himself."

"He wants to die?" Everyone looked at Dostona like she was stupid, even Jackson.
the rest of the team: "So what should we do?"

She joins

Wilson: "We'll be supporting him. You will all fly the Lynx while Ryan takes the Raptor.
When you get to a portal, Felicia, or another pilot will use time space suppression to disrupt the
frequency of the jump gate."

"That will disrupt his flight capabilities as well."

Wilson: "Yes it will, good point James. They're equipping the Raptor with a manual hydraulic
release system as we speak. The timing also has to be perfect."

Le Mangerie giggles to herself.

The whole thing was ridiculous.

"Yes, but first we have to lure out the Greys..."

How does one trick an opponent that has already won? How does one convince such an
opponent that engaging in battle is worth any effort? What could the Special Air Unit do to
tempt the aliens out of hiding? Obviously, as in any bait and switch, the bait needs to be
exactly what the enemy wants. Well, what do these aliens want? Maybe they don't want
anything...but that doesn't mean they don't value things...Maybe the aliens would get greedy
with the right lure, but WHAT???
After much brainstorming, the men and women of the Special Air Unit had a plan: Science!
The aliens love information. The Greys had studied the moves of every pilot, even copying
some of the formations they used. The Aces came up with the idea of luring out the buggies by
offering free information. If the pilots flew in the sky and acted in an uncanny manner, the
Greys could not resist the urge to study them. This would be their trap. For all their faults,
the people of planet earth actually conceive a plot to use the alien's intelligence against them as
a weakness. The scientific mind of the aliens would destroy them. Trying to read the Ace's
souls always gave the aliens an edge, but the Greys still had more to learn about the human

In the Sky...

The eight pilots sailed in the sky forming a straight horizontal line. Stretched out lengthwise,
the pilots flew beside each other at the speed of Stone's F-22, the weakest link in the chain.
The formation did not change or waver, there was nothing "loose" about it. Then the line
rotated on the central axis making a vertical line. The pilot on the bottom, Hardy, pulled up and
shot his ray vertically in front of the other pilot's path. The seven pilots break away and fly

around the beam, each pilot going to the opposite side. They reformed the vertical line in front
of Hardy's ray, which actually got wider as the pilots curved around it. It was all orchestrated.
Hardy then rejoined the line on the bottom as the top pilot accelerated. The next pilot down
then accelerated. Then the next pilot down accelerated until they formed a long, thin, diagonal
line in the sky. This diagonal line changed to a straight line as the pilots flew behind the leader,
The trap was set, but no one bit yet...time for stage two!


Simulated mind control!

They're in my mind!"

James was reading from a script taped to his dash. He starts to wobble in his movements,
almost crashing into the other fighters. He blasts his cannon in rapid succession, aiming at the
other pilots but hitting nothing. He nose dives to the earth, then pulls up and hits his G switch.
James flashes over to the group, which was now flying in a circle. He sends a volley at Dostona
and Jackson who then break away from the circle and start chasing each other, pulling out all

"I think Jackson and James are suffering from corporeal inhabitment!"

Jackson lets out a shrill laughter, it sounded forced coming from him:
die together!"
A stray ufo is seen flying in the sky above checking out the scene.
humans destroy each other from within.

"Amelia my love!

Let us

It was watching the pitiful

Stone then switched out the circle in exchange for James. The five pilots in the circle chased
each other with their beams, like five dogs chasing each other's tails. They increased their
speed as the circle expanded and changed its orientation from horizontal to vertical. The rays
formed a beautiful red rotating pentagon-swastika. Stone figure-eighted straight through the
center as the pentagon expanded. Then he wove through from the sides, still maintaining a
More ufo's were seen approaching from above, enjoying their "entertainment".
No one said a word.

The Aces stuck to the script.

(They're here...)
(It's up there somewhere in the clouds.)

The rotating pentagon of fire expanded its beams to make a bright red pinwheel in the sky. The
edges of the beams came to a few feet within the tails of the aircraft. Anything but perfection
would have led to a terrible accident. Stone would fly through the expanding and contracting
pentagon staying as close to it as possible.
Meanwhile, Dostona and Jackson were chasing each other, doing things with the Cheshire 1 Lynx that are hard to explain. Even though their movements were erratic, like the flight path of
a housefly, they still circled around the center pentagon. They improvised the whole dance.
One of them chased the other with a hollow beam. Once the other pilot was inside of the
beam, the chaser changed the hollow beam to a solid beam, with the pursued pilot narrowly

escaping. Doing this requires almost supernatural ability in ray manipulation...and a level of
trust that the aliens found intriguing. Were Dostona and Jackson really trying to kill each
other? If not, why would they go through the trouble of trying this deadly waltz? The aliens
asked themselves this question...
Out of the sky above a frantically vibrating portal appears. It was watching them. More ufo's
came out of the woodwork, slowly creeping and studying; advancing at a stealthy pace from all


The pentagon returns its orientation back to horizontal. Amelia and Jackson break apart and
bust out five g's. They activate their altered states and flank the other pilots. James, Hardy,
Branstein, Le Mangerie, and Benson hit their G switches in a chain. The formation of five glide
directly upwards at blinding speed, surrounding and then surpassing the eye, appearing above it.
It happened so fast, the eye lost track of the pentagon. Ryan Stone flew straight up as the
pentagon closed in from above forcing the gate to move downwards. First the portal moved
away from Ryan Stone, maintaining a constant distance from him as it retreated. Then in a
moment of ingenuity, the portal moved laterally before the other pilots could force it towards
Stone. As the gate moved in position, so did Ryan, following it. Eventually the gate was
retreating while facing him, staying away from the mad F-22, but also watching and studying. It
sent out a flurry of ufo's in Ryan's path. The remaining pilots weaved and flowed around Stone,
guarding him from the onslaught which was now coming from all directions. Wherever the
portal went, Stone chased it; and the portal always faced him at a set distance away. Amelia
and Jackson watched the rear as Stone chased, and chased the jump gate wherever it went. He
was doing hairpin turns, loop de loops, swallow dives, anything and everything you can imagine.
The portal stayed at a safe retreat, however entranced by the awkward F-22 that was thought to
be obsolete. Because Stone had to constantly maneuver, his guards could not enter the altered
state without wrecking Stone's flight controls. This also put the other pilots at risk. Stone was
flying especially slow because of his heavy payload. Time was not on their side as more
reinforcements poured in. The enemy began to use the same tactics they employed in their
trap for Dr. Bian.

"The plan has failed, we should retreat!"

"No, that's not an option now!"

"...Just hold on..." Stone was gritting his teeth, chasing an opponent that seemed to be more in
his mind than a part of some physical reality.
"Everyone back off, I'm going to bluff 'em!"

"Just back off!"

The seven guardians broke away as Ryan Stone hits his brakes. Scores of ufo's overshot him,
while others simply got out of his way as Ryan turns on full throttle and boosts towards the
portal, which was now hesitant to do anything at all. Like an expert high diver, he makes

almost no splash, but subtle ripples could be seen.


"That's my man Stone!"

The Lynx pilots enter into the altered state, quickly cleaning up the mess. No reinforcements
arrived to challenge them. Many of the bogies flew in random directions without a portal to
return to.

"Is it over?"

Sobbing could be heard on the radio. It is Felicia. She sniffled and wiped her eyes; they were
tears of joy...tears of love. (How could this happen, it's unbelievable...Ryan) Images breeze
through her mind of her past with Ryan. She remembers his smiles; the special smiles which he
only gave to her. How he found a flower in a crack in the pavement and picked it, telling her it
was more special than the queen's rose gardens. She believed him, but she didn't understand
it then. Now she understood.
Le Mangerie lets off a smirk:

"In an F-22..."

Even Dostona was overwhelmed with awe and grief...she didn't know what to think. New jump
gates could be seen starting to form in the sky around them, but they would dissipate and fade
away before fully manifesting. No one wanted to see them anymore, they believed in Ryan
now. Le Mangerie starts smiling and laughs a little bit. They all start laughing.

All Stone could see were a million beige lights of differing sizes, forming a vibrant texture. They
were portals! There was not a fancy mother ship to explode. His Raptor's emergency beacon
was flaring as every function on his craft went haywire. It seemed like he wasn't even moving
at all! He releases the payload with the manual trigger put in by Patrick. Nothing
changes...the inside of his craft was quickly becoming more vibrant as the beige pixels leak in all
around. Everything was getting smeared together...denatured. Out of the beige he sees a
small vermilion light twinkling. It is the last thing he remembers.

The pilots circled the area for a long time, waiting for Ryan to magically reappear and everything
would be okay...but it never happened. That was never part of his plan. "Safety is a weak
man's disease." He would say.


Washington D.C.

One week later.

The leaders of the powerful nations of the world were assembled for a victory meeting.
were to decide how to build the post-alien world...
French President:

"We are going to do it right this time.

American President:
Chinese Premier:


American President:
Russian President:
Chinese Premier:

No more

"That sounds good, but lets try to create a framework with guidelines."

"What kind of framework?

Mexican President:

No more secrets.


The East and West do not need frameworks to

We are all people now."

"We should be united as humans!"

"Yes, I agree."

German Prime Minister:

"We need no rules except mutual respect for common interest!"

No footsteps were heard coming down the hall...The being approaching should have been
stopped by guards along the way...
Brazilian President:
American President:

"I know it is hard to accept Mr. President, but we must learn to cooperate."

Japanese Prime Minister: "America will still be a power.

American interest and influence across the world."
American President:

There are many that still welcome

"Hmmmm...I see."

The door flew open as if blown in by a thunderstorm. Everyone looks over as a black mist
floods the room. In the middle stood a very tall, robed being with deep green skin. The
leaders are knocked unconscious by the gas flowing from beneath the being's robe...The alien's
long square face held a brilliant smile. The leaders of the world were now under his control...
The Japanese have a saying:
have come to earth!

"The nail that sticks out gets hammered."

Now the Ushgalags

Follow the gut-blasting adventures of Ryan Stone in the mind-wrenching sequel...


...Upcoming books in the series...


by Alexander Griffin

Copyright 2014 ;)