Legacy

by
Sean T. Smith

CCB Publishing
British Columbia, Canada
Legacy

Copyright ©2017 by Sean T. Smith

ISBN-13 978-1-77143-333-4
First Edition

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Smith, Sean T., 1957-, author
Legacy / by Sean T. Smith -- First edition.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-77143-333-4 (softcover).--ISBN 978-1-77143-334-1 (pdf)
I. Title.
PS3619.M5896L44 2017 813'.6 C2017-903904-0
C2017-903905-9

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are
products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Extreme care has been taken by the author to ensure that all information presented in
this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor
the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally,
neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information
contained herein.

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To Tak and Humberto, for their love and devotion to family.

To Michi, for her unwavering good cheer and zest for life.
 Prologue
Central Africa 33,000 B.C.

He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the sun’s warmth against his face.
A lazy breeze blew the plain’s grass in gentle waving motions. Flyers
cruised through the air, riding the wind. Everything seemed so
peaceful, so beautiful—yet it was nothing but a cruel hoax. His mind
wandered back to the time, so many seasons ago, when he had arrived
on this magnificent yet unforgiving land.

:
He opened his eyes, struck by the bitter cold. A cold he had never
felt before.
What is this place?
He pushed himself up from the snowdrift. All around him the white
landscape was silent and still, stretching as far as the eye could see. The
sky overhead was gray with clouds. In the distance, tall trees swayed
against the stiff breeze. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself.
His thin clothes were not enough for the harsh environment.
Where am I?
A few yards away, an oblong metallic object lay partially buried in
the snow.
Whatever it was, it was clear from the tracks in the snow that it had
been his origin. He walked over to it and peered inside. There were a
few meager provisions and what appeared to be a blanket. He thought
about crawling back inside, but realized that the snow coming down
would completely bury it, and him, within a few hours. No, that wasn’t
an option. He had to find his way back.
Where?
He couldn’t worry about that now. He had to find shelter.
The snow was deep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go far. He
scanned the landscape. The small grove of trees in the distance would

v
not shield him from the elements. Several yards away a clump of rocks,
forming what looked like a cave, offered a more promising potential for
shelter. He grabbed some items from the capsule and struggled through
the knee-deep snow. Already his hands and face were turning numb
from cold.
In the back of his mind, something uncomfortable nagged at him.
Vague, ghostly memories swirled in his head; nothing that made sense.
He saw himself standing with hundreds of others in a huge room, no
doors or windows. Then he was lying down, looking up at a bright blue
light while shadowy faces leaned over him, incoherent words coming
from their lips. A giant, gray ship hummed quietly in the center of the
building.
He shook his head. Whatever those images meant, even if they were
real, he couldn’t concentrate on them. He was just now a few yards
away from the rocks.
A growl from behind stopped him in his tracks.
He turned around slowly, not knowing what to expect. A medium-
sized, four-legged creature was staring at him from a few yards away. It
had a long, narrow face, and its partially opened mouth revealed rows
of sharp teeth, leaving no doubt in his mind that the creature was a
predator, and potentially a serious threat. The creature had a shaggy
brown coat of fur with black spots on its hindquarters. It emitted a low
cackling noise that sounded disturbingly like laughter. He had no idea
what kind of creature this was, but he knew he needed to get as far
away from it as he possible could.
There was no way he could reach the cave in time and no way
could he outrun it. Something deep inside him clicked. A surge of
adrenaline rushed through his body. He bent down, pried a dead tree
branch from the snow, and turned to face his adversary. It kept circling
him, fangs gleaming.
As it came closer, he sized it up, looking for obvious weaknesses.
The creature’s slender frame and small size probably meant it was fast,
but not necessarily very sturdy. One good hit would likely stop it. The
way it was still circling several yards away meant it wouldn’t launch a
strike unless he….
From the distant trees, he heard shouting. The creature turned to
appraise this new threat, giving him the opening he needed. He closed

vi
the distance between them in a few long strides. Swinging the branch
as hard as he could, he felt a satisfying crunch that sent a wave of pain
up his arm as it crushed the animal’s skull.
He kicked the thing a couple of times to make sure it was dead,
then looked in the direction of the commotion that had probably saved
his life.
Three figures were approaching through the snow. The tallest, a
female, stepped forward. She sized him up with sharp green eyes and
gave him a slight smile. “You’re lucky we came when we did. That
creature would have had you for lunch otherwise. Nice work.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. He felt as though he
hadn’t used his voice in a long time. “Thank you.”
“Not at all,” the woman said, waving her hand. “We couldn’t let
you die. Well, actually we could have, but I have a feeling that if we are
to survive this place, we will need all the help we can get.”
“This place? What is this place?”
The woman glanced at her two companions, then back at him. “We
have no idea. But wherever this is, nothing appears to be friendly. Even
the weather seems to want us dead. I think the first thing we should do
is find some shelter.”
He nodded. Her words made sense, even as something deep inside
him said they should all know where they were.
“I’m Idre,” the woman said. “What’s your name?”
He had to think hard for a long time. “Nwarht,” he said slowly. “My
name is Nwarht.”
“Nwarht,” Idre repeated. “Well Nwarht, welcome to hell.”

vii
 Chapter 1
Claremont, California
Friday, September 14th, 2046

“Why?”
Kelly glanced up at her roommate before resuming her painting.
“Why what?”
“Why can’t they see it? Am I missing something?”
Kelly sighed, peering thoughtfully over her easel at Jessica, who
was pacing back and forth across their apartment holding a thick
textbook in one hand and a pencil in the other.
A rueful smile spread across Kelly’s face. Though Kelly got her
share of male attention, when she went out with her roommate she
might as well be invisible. Jessica’s tall, toned body, and almond-
shaped green eyes set off by jet-black hair, gave her an exotic look that
turned heads. But it was Jessica’s drive, brains and energy that
sometimes-made Kelly feel like a mule hanging out with a
thoroughbred.
By the time she was 21, Jessica had already completed a PhD in
microbiology. Now, at 23, she was finishing up her Master’s in
anthropology and had started studying theoretical physics. All while
taking on the position of part-time professor at the University of
Nevada, Las Vegas.
Yet for all her accomplishments, there was an underlying sadness
that manifested itself in an abrasive personality. Kelly had introduced
Jessica to T’ai Chi to give her a chance at some inner peace. It had
worked, mostly. But, as with everything else in her life, once she felt
she had mastered the basic discipline, Jessica became bored with it and
started training with Kelly in the more advanced combative forms of
Chen, Yang and Wu. Although they still trained together often, Jessica
was so much better at the discipline by now that Kelly oftentimes felt
Jessica was simply going through the motions just to be a friend. Which
was just fine, since Jessica tended to really get into her workouts and
Kelly had no desire to wind up with a ruptured spleen.

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Legacy

“Look Jess, I told you before, you’re trying to solve a puzzle that
scientists have been trying to solve since Darwin. Besides, I thought
you said that this Homo-Rhode-Island”
“Homo Rhodesiensis.”
“Whatever. This Homo Rhodesiensis was an ancestor of the human
species. Right? They were the ones who drove the Neanderthals to
extinction and evolved from Homo erectus. Right? Which means that
they evolved into humans, correct? So why—”
“Aha!” Jessica exclaimed, spinning around and almost dropping her
textbook. “That’s what these egghead academicians say. They publish
their ‘findings’ and teach them to their braindead students. Then the
students do their own research and publish their findings which are
nothing but a rehash of what’s already been published, and pretty soon
everyone believes it to be true.”
“Well not everyone,” Kelly muttered, running her brush along the
edge of her painting. “And we’ve had this discussion before, Jess.
Many times, actually.”
“But don’t you see? No one has ever been able to prove with 100%
certainty that these findings are the truth. In fact, there isn’t a specific
fossil that concretely proves the connection between humans and those
of early man.”
“So what?” Kelly grumbled. “Just go with the flow, collect another
degree, and stop being the proverbial salmon constantly swimming
upstream. Because, to continue the metaphor, if you present your new
thesis to Dr. Green, he is going to be one hungry grizzly and you’re
going to be lunch.”
“So, you don’t think I should change my thesis?”
“Not if it’s truly what you believe, Jess. But maybe you should tone
it down a little.”
“It just makes my blood boil that these so-called experts don’t even
try to get at the truth. They just publish their papers so they can get
tenure and collect a fat paycheck for life.”
Jessica stopped talking and looked at her roommate.
“Thank you for believing in me, Kelly. It means a lot.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Kelly said absently. “You’re probably right.”
Something about the way Kelly said it struck Jessica as odd. Almost
as though Kelly knew something she didn’t. But she shrugged it off and

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 Sean T. Smith

left the apartment, walking toward campus with a purposeful stride that
left very little doubt that she was a woman on a mission.

3
 Chapter 2
Keck Science Building, McKenna College

It wasn’t so much that Bryce Costa hated science—he rather liked

it. Sometimes, however, it just felt as though science hated him. As a
field-trained geologist he was well-versed in the earth sciences, as well
as chemistry and other related fields. He was therefore optimistic about
his experiment for biotech class. It should have been straightforward.
The plan had been to infuse some nano-bots with silver, which the
bots would then release in various pre-programmed dosages into the
petri dishes. The dishes were contaminated with a variety of viral,
fungal, and bacterial strains. He would then observe what level of
lethality the varying silver dosages had on the nasty creatures. Once he
established the correct dosage, he would be able to program the bots to
find any variety of infections in the human body and eradicate them,
with absolutely no side effects.
As usual, things had not quite gone according to plan. There
seemed to be a flaw in the injection process, causing the silver to react
with and short-circuit the components inside the bots. The result was a
series of micro-explosions that left a line of pin-sized burns along
Bryce’s arm, not to mention the destruction of several petri dishes,
tubes and various other lab components.
After Professor Rathbone evacuated the lab, and the hazardous
waste team checked him out, Bryce decided to call it a day. He re-wrote
his notes, declared his experiment a success (since the hazmat team had
declared the lab clean of contaminants), filled several vials with the
silver infused bots and stuck them in his pocket. He checked his watch,
realized that happy hour at Gamma House was well underway, and
rushed out of the lab. By the time he had made his way outside it was
completely dark.
Walking across Jaqua Quadrangle toward the dorms, still deep in
thought about his semi-successful experiment, he didn’t really notice
where he was going until he slammed into a girl going the other way,
almost knocking her to the pavement.

4
 Sean T. Smith

:
The presentation did not go well.
It was dark by the time Jessica left her meeting, but she barely
noticed. She stalked across Jaqua Quadrangle toward the parking lot,
fuming. It simply wasn’t right that institutions were becoming more
and more resistant to even the possibility of a progressive idea. How
long had it been, she wondered, since a truly astonishing revelation had
been made by anyone? Ever since the end of the Colder War, mankind
seemed paralyzed, afraid to disturb the peace it had so tenuously
gained.
Jessica was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn’t notice
where she was going until she slammed into someone going the
opposite way.
“Jessica!” Bryce exclaimed, stumbling backward. “A simple hello
would have sufficed!”
Jessica bent down to pick up some of her papers that had fallen to
the ground. “Hello, Costa. Pleasure running into you this evening.”
“Pleasure was all mine. What are you doing here this late?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jessica countered, glancing up at
his phlegmatic grin.
“I was just on my way back to the dorm,” Bryce answered, waving
a hand absently in the air. “I have business to take care of.”
“Partying with your buddies and getting drunk, I assume.”
“Oh, ha ha! You are just so funny, aren’t you?” he quipped. “I just
finished working on my biotech project. I actually got those capsules I
was working on completed, albeit with uneven results.”
Jessica raised her eyebrows. “What, happy pills?”
“Boy, someone’s sassy today. If I can be so bold, what are you
doing this evening?”
“You really want to know? Or are you just trying to make small
talk?”
“No, I genuinely want to know.”
“I’m on my way to Vegas.”
Bryce blinked. “That was…not the response I was expecting. What

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Legacy

on earth is in Vegas that could possibly attract your attention?”

“Costa, I’m a part-time professor there. Like, come on, even you
aren’t that dumb.”
“Yeah, but in that case you would have said ‘UNLV’, like the
college, not ‘Vegas’, as in Sin City. Which makes me think that you’re
actually not going to the college Vegas but the party Vegas.
“You don’t make sense half the time you talk, Costa, you know
that? So I’m actually going to Vegas. So what?”
“So, I repeat my previous query. What is there that could possibly
attract your attention?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “If you absolutely must know, there’s a
seminar on the use of DNA for next generation computers. There was
one a couple weeks ago at Cal Tech, and one of the attendees told me
about the one in Vegas. Supposedly this one is going to have practical
application demonstrations for some of those attending, and the guy
asked me if I would be there.”
“So it’s a date.”
Jessica frowned. “What is?”
“This trip. Obviously it’s a date, right? I mean it’s not like there was
any other reason for this guy to ask you to come to this other seminar.
Seriously, DNA computing? I’m getting drowsy just thinking about it.
The only reason he asked you to go, and the only reason you agreed, is
because it’s a date.”
“You’re ridiculous Costa, it isn’t a date. Is it so strange that I would
want to go somewhere I can have a semi-intelligent conversation?”
“I feel like that was an insult, but I’ll ignore it. Are you seriously
going right now? It’ll take you, what, like five hours to get to Vegas in
that old, plug-in hybra thing you have?”
“It’s called a hybrid, idiot.”
“How adorable. Do you want a ride? That old thing is likely to
break down halfway to the highway.”
“No, thank you, I’m good,” Jessica said smoothly. “Besides, you
don’t even have a car.”
“Fine, fine. So, this guy—is he hot?”
“Huh? Maybe, I guess. Wait, do I detect a hint of jealousy in your
voice?”

6
 Sean T. Smith

“What? No!” Bryce protested, shaking his head for emphasis. “I

just don’t like the idea of you meeting some random guy in Vegas. He
could be some kind of psycho, for all you know.”
“Costa,” Jessica sighed, “I’m not a little girl. I know how to look
after myself. He seemed like a decent guy. And I’m going to be
focusing on my research while I’m there anyway. So it’s not even going
to be like a real date.”
“Jessica,” Bryce said. “I’ve told you before, there’s no reason to be
getting dual degrees at two different colleges, in totally unrelated
disciplines. Besides, you already have a freaking PhD in microbiology.
You’re gonna have a nervous breakdown, or a conniption, or
something. If this guy really is decent, you should take advantage of
the opportunity and have some fun, as long as he doesn’t make a move
on you in, like, five seconds. In which case, you have my permission to
punch his lights out.”
“Duly noted.”
“Anyway, how many times have I told you? Loosen up. Live a
little. Life is too short. Try enjoying it, for a change.”
“All right, Costa. I’ll drink vodka, smoke weed and sleep with two
girls every night while I’m there. Just like you do.”
“Wow, that’s low,” he said, feigning hurt. “Someone has definitely
been taking her sassy pills. And just for the record, I don’t sleep with
girls.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What were the names of the guys you slept with?”
“Cute. And cut it out. I’m worried about you. Kelly told me you’ve
barely been sleeping and you skip meals just to keep studying.”
“Costa listen—”
“No, Jessica,” Bryce cut her off. “You listen. If you’re going to go,
promise me you’ll at least try to have a little fun? Forget about school
and stuff for just one weekend. One. Freaking. Weekend.”
Jessica snorted. “Fine. Whatever you say. Now if you don’t mind, I
have to go. Enjoy your dorm business, Costa.”
She spun around and walked away without another word.
Bryce watched her disappear into the nighttime shadows.
“Women,” he grumbled under his breath.

7
 Chapter 3
Clark Mountain, Mojave National Preserve
Saturday, September 15th, 2046

The Gulfstream HJ225 slowed to 90 knots as it approached Clark

Mountain. Twin turbo fans deployed in its underside, twirling just fast
enough to prevent the jet from stalling. But even as it slowed to 20
knots, the aircraft appeared destined to slam into the side of the
mountain looming before it. At the last moment, however, the peak of
the mountain shimmered for an instant, then disappeared altogether.
The jet slowed further, coming to a full stop in midair. As it did, the
turbo fans whined to a high pitched crescendo, working in perfect
synchronicity with the gyros to keep the craft stable and virtually
motionless over the gaping hole that moments ago had been the top of a
mountain. Two large doors a few hundred feet down slid open as the
ship slowly descended deep into the mountain. As it touched down on a
landing platform, the doors, now far above it, closed and the
holographic projection of the mountaintop automatically reactivated.
The summit once again appeared to consist of solid rock, dirt and
miscellaneous sagebrush.
The pilot fastidiously ran through the shutdown procedure. When it
was completed, he rose from his seat as the passive restraint system
disengaged. He stood on a barely discernible circle in the center of the
cockpit. The circle turned out to be a small elevator, which lowered him
gently toward the landing platform. As soon as he stepped off, it rose
and re-sealed the hole. The aircraft once again appeared smooth and
seamless.
The pilot looked up at his favorite toy, perched there on the landing
platform on spindly ostrich-like legs. He smiled. It always amused him
how a machine that looked so sleek and elegant in the air could look
like such an albatross on the ground. It was of his own doing really.
The craft came with the standard landing gear, which would have made
it look much less gawky, but he had requested a modification to the
tripod gear to provide the necessary clearance to install his exit

8
 Sean T. Smith

elevator. Stairs posed an additional risk, albeit a small one, to his

personal safety. Not that he was afraid to die, far from it. At this point
in his long life, death would be a welcome relief. But the thought of
dying from a fall a few days short of accomplishing his life’s mission,
after cheating death for what seemed like eternity, seemed somehow
obscene. He, therefore, calculated each risk and assumed only those
risks deemed necessary to complete his task. It would all be over soon
anyway.
Everything would be over soon.
Another elevator deposited him at the foot of the landing platform.
As he walked toward a door, the facility computer scanned his face and
retina for identification. His identity authenticated while he was still a
few feet from the door, allowed him to continue walking without
breaking stride as the door slid quietly open. He walked down a long
limestone corridor, lit only by the diffused glow of LED lights
embedded in the walls. This far underground the air was so cold his
breath was visible as he strode down the hallway. He ignored the cold
as he glanced at his watch. 17:15. Excellent. A half hour until
moonrise. Things were right on schedule.
He reached the end of the limestone corridor where another door
opened, allowing him access to a massive underground planetarium. He
looked up at what appeared to be open sky, but was, in reality, a perfect
real-time duplication of the night sky, projected on the walls and
ceiling of a domed cave.
The pilot cleared his throat as he walked in. The lead technician
looked up, said something to his partner, then turned and walked
toward the pilot.
“Good, you’re here. Everything is ready for the test. Although sir, if
I may, you are aware that this test will wipe out the electric grid on the
Lunar Alpha and Beta stations? The scatter could cause severe power
outages in southern Nevada and California as well.”
The pilot looked at his chief technician. A good man—he deserved
the truth. But that wasn’t an option. “Don’t worry Henry. The proper
authorities have been notified and protective shielding has been put
into place to dampen the effect of the pulse.”
The tech looked at the pilot’s face. He could tell he was being lied
to, but what could he do? The job paid extremely well and he had

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Legacy

learned that his boss was not someone you trifled with. “Whatever you
say, sir.”
It was obvious to the pilot that Henry didn’t believe him. No matter,
he would be dead in less than an hour. Pity, because he actually
respected the man—a rarity for him.
“How long until the device is ready?”
“It’s ready now. We will start countdown in five minutes, if you
wish.”
“Excellent. Proceed.”
The test was relatively simple. They would detonate a 25-megaton
warhead deep underground. The resulting EPM pulse would be
captured, amplified, re-modulated and fired at the moon through the
ac3 amplification antenna on top of the mountain. The pulse would, of
course, destroy all electronic components on the lunar surface. That
was of little consequence to him, as the primary target of his test was
much further away. The moon was simply a waypoint. This control
room should theoretically be completely protected from the effects of
the nuclear blast. It wasn’t—the pilot had made sure of that during
construction. He had assured the construction supervisor at the time
that such protection was unnecessary, as the room would only be
accessed remotely. The pilot looked around the room at the fifteen
unfortunate souls within. The construction supervisor could have
warned them about their eminent demise, but he and his crew were
long dead.
“Detonation sequence commencing in five seconds,” alerted one of
the techs.
“Detonation sequence activated. Detonation in 15 minutes.”
“Goodbye Henry,” the pilot called over his shoulder as he headed
for the exit.
Henry looked up with a puzzled expression. “You’re not staying for
the test firing?”
“No. I will monitor the results from the jet. I have some other
pressing business to tend to.”
That part was certainly true. The pilot turned and looked at the man
he considered a friend one last time, then walked out as the door closed
silently behind him.

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 Sean T. Smith

Henry stared at the closed door for the better part of a minute.
Something about his boss’s expression as he walked out bothered him.
And another thing was gnawing at him. Why had he said ‘goodbye’? It
was usually ‘so long’ or ‘take care’. But ‘goodbye’? He walked to the
door and placed his eye against the scanner.
“Access authority terminated,” a flat robotic voice stated.
Henry stepped back from the scanner with a look of befuddlement.
And even as his rational mind tried to deny the obvious, the hairs on
the back of his neck were sticking straight out.
The jet hanger was completely shielded from the nuclear explosion
and the ensuing EMP pulse. The pilot sat quietly in the cockpit
watching the countdown. From deep within the mountain, he felt,
rather than heard, a dull explosion.
He glanced at his watch again. 17:58. Right on time.

11
 Chapter 4
Cheyenne Mountain: Nuclear Bunker

Joe Walden leaned back, pushed his feet against the edge of his
desk and tilted his chair back until it was precariously balanced on the
two rear legs. He opened the December 2002 edition of Penthouse
magazine to the centerfold and stared at the brown-eyed beauty, taking
in her impossibly large breasts. She stared seductively back at him from
the pages of the magazine.
They have to be fake, he thought—or perhaps genetically enhanced.
He wondered if they had that technology back then. Probably not, he
guessed. No matter, he was just glad he snuck these from his
grandfather’s collection and stashed them away when he went off to
military training. He had brought the magazines with him when he
received this assignment. If not for the temporary distraction they
provided, he figured he would have gone insane by now.
Although he was technically a lieutenant in the Air Force, he
reported to a civilian agency that went by the acronym of NRS, which
was much less alarming than Nuclear Regulatory Service. It might as
well be called MBJITW (Most Boring Job in The World). Join the Air
Force, See the World the ads said. Be buried inside some mountain and
die a slow hideous death by boredom, the ads should have said.
His Net access was severely restricted to official business only.
Problem was, there wasn’t much official business. His duty was to
monitor for threats, threats that no longer existed. All nukes had been
dismantled years ago and no one would be crazy enough to build any
new ones. It was the last death penalty offense that existed anywhere in
the world. Anyone caught with, or attempting to build, a nuclear
weapon received an immediate death sentence by being exposed to the
radiation from the weapon. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
Crude, but effective. Still, someone has to keep watch I suppose. And
he was that someone. Oh well, at least I have Miss December to keep
me company.
“Warning. Thermonuclear detonation detected. Probability 95%.”

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 Sean T. Smith

Although the electronically generated voice wasn’t particularly

loud, in the quiet, confined space it might as well have been a gunshot
going off. Joe Walden’s legs jerked in response to the thunderous voice,
causing him to fall backward and hit his head on the linoleum floor. He
sat up groggily, shaking his head several times to clear the cobwebs.
“Warning. Thermonuclear detonation confirmed. Probability
99.99%.”
As he rushed to his computer station, his first thought was: Not
possible. But as he glanced at the data scrolling on the screen, reality
started to sink in. For the first time in 25 years the world had
experienced a nuclear event. He started punching some confirmation
codes into the system.
It was going to be a long night, he thought, boredom now the
furthest thing from his mind, Miss December completely forgotten.

13
 Chapter 5
Luna Corp Observatory: Luna Base Alpha

Rick Wilkins pushed the button that opened the observatory dome,
exposing him to open space. He still cringed involuntarily each time
the dome started to open, fearing what exposure to the near vacuum of
the lunar atmosphere would do to his body. Even though the transparent
graphene screen offered him complete protection, he couldn’t help but
see a vivid image in his mind of his blood instantly boiling and his
body exploding, projecting a gory Daliesque masterpiece all over the
observatory’s walls.
He had asked for it. He could have had a nice cozy job on top of
Mauna Loa in the company’s extremely high-tech research facility. But
no, he had to boldly go where no man had gone before. Except that
plenty of men had been here before; Armstrong, Aldrin, Conrad, Bean,
Shepard, among others. There really had been no rational reason for
him to take this job.
But every time the dome opened and he gazed at the true,
unpolluted beauty of the cosmos, all his phobias, doubts and regrets
melted away. The splendor of the cosmos had attracted him from an
early age. And as he gazed at the billions of stars, galaxies and other
cosmological phenomenon, he could think of nowhere else he would
rather be.
A knock roused him from his reverie.
“Hey, Rick,” Sarah Ruben said from the doorway, a slightly
concerned frown on her face. “I’m getting some really weird EM
readings on my instruments.”
“Solar flares?”
“Doubtful. I checked, and the sun may as well be sleeping for all
the activity I’m detecting.”
“They’re not lobbing nukes at each other down on Earth again, are
they?”
“God, I hope not,” Sarah exclaimed. “I don’t relish the idea of
being stuck here with you for the next 50 years.”

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“Not to worry—our supplies would run out in a couple of years or

so.”
Sarah smiled, a beautiful, natural smile that could light up a room.
“Oh good, I was worried there for a second. At any rate, you might
want to shut the dome as a precaution.”
He watched her as she walked out. Funny, he thought. Although
attractive, she didn’t go out of her way to enhance her looks. If
anything, she played down her femininity as much as possible. She
hadn’t specifically told him so, but he had gotten the sense that she had
had to fight every step of the way to get to where she was, given that
engineering was still a male dominated field. So, she kept her blond
hair trimmed short and gave up wearing makeup, perfume and other
feminine wares to be more readily acceptable as “one of the guys”.
Sexism was still alive and well in the twenty-first century.
She also tended to be curt, some might even say rude, in her
dealings with co-workers. But, she was always pleasant to Rick, often
displaying her radiant smile and sense of humor. It made her very easy
to work with, but also made him have the kind of feelings he had not
felt for anyone in a long time. Or maybe he was just lonely after six
months on the Moon.
Regardless, she was right—he had better shut the dome. The
electrically charged transparent graphene screen offered him complete
protection from the elements, but without electric current the graphene
field would collapse, and he didn’t really want to think of the
consequences should that happen. He rolled his chair across the room
and reached for the button to close the dome.
He never made it. A couple of seconds before he got there, the room
went dark as the electricity went dead. He had just enough time to
realize that his worst nightmare was about to come true, as a black
curtain dropped across his vision.

:
His head was pounding.
Of course—it had just exploded and was now scattered all over the
walls of the observatory. That’s why it hurt so bad.

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“Rick! Are you all right?” asked a distant voice.

“It’s gone, isn’t it?” he mumbled through the oxygen mask. “My
head is gone!”
Sarah chuckled and gently pushed him back down to the floor.
“Yes, it seems you’re okay. Weird as ever.”
“But my head! My head exploded!” he protested, even as he
removed the mask from his head.
“Have you been lying to me all this time about your degrees in
astrophysics? How can a self-respecting scientist still believe those old
wives’ tales about one’s head exploding in a vacuum?”
“It sure feels like it exploded,” he grumbled. “Do you have
anything to ease the pain?”
Sarah got up and grabbed a hypo-needle from the emergency
medicine cabinet. Rick felt a slight pinch in his neck and closed his
eyes. Within a few minutes the pain had subsided to a tolerable level.
“Thanks. I guess you were right about my head still being attached
to the rest of me. And by the way, there is a substantial difference
between science in the abstract and science experienced up-close-and-
personal. Having just experienced it up-close-and-personal, I opt for
the abstract.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying that just because I know my head isn’t going to
explode, doesn’t mean I want to be a guinea pig. Besides, who ever
said phobias had to be rational?”
“True, I suppose,” Sarah said, giving him a scrutinizing look. “But
exactly how does one develop a weird phobia like that?”
“I don’t know. How does anyone develop any phobias?” he asked,
though the question felt a little silly given he was lying splayed on the
floor. “Although, I guess in my case it’s probably the same thing that
led me to astronomy. I loved watching those old sic-fi movies on MiTV
when I was kid. One of my favorites was the one about this guy who
loses his memory and eventually winds up on Mars. At the end, some
of the residents get thrown out into the unprotected Mars surface and
their eyes bulge out, their blood boils and then their heads explode.
Movie gave me nightmares for weeks.”
“And that was one of your favorite movies? You’re even stranger
than I thought.”

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“So, what the hell happened anyway?” Rick asked, pushing himself
up to a sitting position.
“I have no idea,” Sarah replied. “One second I’m double-checking
the EM readings, the next second everything is dark. After the
emergency lighting kicked in, I came looking for you and saw you
passed out on the floor. I dragged your sorry butt out of the observatory
and slapped the oxygen mask on you. Another 30 seconds or so and
you would have been a goner. I figure you were oxygen deprived for a
couple of minutes, which explains your pounding head and the obvious
brain damage I’m observing. You’ve been out for about an hour.”
“Guess I owe you one,” he said ruefully.
“Correct. And I plan on collecting.”
He smiled, feeling a spark of something like hope. Could she
possibly have feelings for him as well?
Silently he dismissed the notion. Now was not the time to consider
such things. They had to find out exactly what had just happened.
“Do we have any idea what caused this?” he asked, trying to get rid
of the fog still floating around his brain.
“No idea, unfortunately. All I know is that every electronic
component on this base is fried. And when I say fried, I mean like an
egg. The only reason we still have life support is because someone,
who I shall have to personally kiss someday, decided to install a triple
redundant self-contained natural gas back-up generator. Impervious to
such things as EM surges.”
“Gas, really? Wow, someone went to a lot of trouble and expense to
make sure we were safe,” he said in surprise.
“I guess. But, unfortunately, because of the logistics involved in
getting the gas up here, we have a very limited supply.”
“How limited?”
“Twenty-four hours, maybe less since the system uses oxygen to
burn the gas. Maybe a little longer if we shut down anything non-
essential.”
“Any word from Lunar Base Beta or Delta?”
“None.”
Rick got to his feet and steadied himself. Then he started pacing
around the room, deep in thought. They were in trouble. Even assuming
Earth knew that there was a problem up here, it was doubtful they

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could get a rescue shuttle to them in time. Plus, he had to assume that
an event that would completely decimate their electronics would have
also affected Earth. If that was the case, then they were in deep doo-
doo. They could try to take the rover to one of the other bases and
check their status, but that would have to wait. First, they needed to
establish the specifics of their situation.
“Rick, you’re the astrophysicist, do you think an EMP could have
caused this? Those were some really strange readings I was getting just
before everything went dark.”
The comment caught him off guard and he faltered, coming to a
slightly disoriented stop. He thought about her question for a few
seconds. An EMP pulse could certainly cause serious damage to
electronic components, but for the kind of damage Sarah had just
described, someone would have had to detonate a nuke right over their
heads. In which case, electronic damage would have been the least of
their worries.
“I don’t know Sarah, it certainly seems like the most plausible
explanation, but something just doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m listening,” she said, perching on the edge of a table and
folding her arms over her chest.
“Solar flares can emit substantial EMPs. But solar flare EMP
emissions are directional, meaning that the sun would have had to send
one heck of a flare aimed directly at us.”
“So, unlikely, but possible.”
“Yes, possible, but highly unlikely. For one thing, it would have had
to be the mother of all solar flares to cause this kind of damage. Also,
in the current lunar cycle, we are partially protected by the Earth. The
flare would have been at least partially nullified by the Earth and its
magnetic field. If it was a solar flare of that magnitude, we’re toast
anyway because the Earth as we know it is…is gone.”
Sarah gasped. “Are you saying everything could be dead down
there? I thought EMPs were harmless to organic life?”
“EMPs are theoretically harmless to life forms. But I don’t think
you’re really grasping the scope of a solar flare necessary to inflict this
type of damage. A solar flare of that magnitude would be strong enough
to partially damage the Earth’s magnetic field, perhaps even stripping

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away part of Earth’s atmosphere. I’m talking about a planet-wide

extinction event.”
Sarah stared at him. “So, you are saying life has been wiped out on
the planet’s surface?”
“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying just the opposite.
See, I don’t believe there was a solar flare at all. In fact, I think the
Earth is just fine. You said it yourself—the sun was showing virtually
no activity before the blast.”
Sarah visibly relaxed. “So, you don’t think it was an EMP pulse?”
Rick shook his head. “I’m convinced that it was an EMP pulse, but
that it was man-made.”
“Man-made? You don’t mean—”
“I mean that it was generated by someone down on Earth.”
He glanced at the metal walls of the base and clenched his fists.
“And whoever that was, they intentionally directed it at us.”

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 Chapter 6
Mojave Desert: Southeastern California

JW Duarte looked out the window as the 550Ze hurtled across the
arid desert landscape. At approximately one-half the speed of sound,
the shrubs and rocks whizzed by as one continuous blur. He stared at
the distant mountains, mesmerized by their reddish hue as the sun’s
diminishing light intensified the color of the iron-rich dirt and rocks.
There was something about the isolated starkness of a desert landscape
that he found soothing. Most people looked at the Mojave Desert and
saw some 37,000 square miles of barren, desolate landscape devoid of
life and beauty. JW looked out and saw a fragile landscape of great
beauty, teeming with resilient creatures that had adapted perfectly over
many eons to thrive in the harsh, waterless environment. He was also
intrigued by the fact that the Mojave, bordered by two geological
faults, would one day turn the southern part of California into
California Island. The joke one of his geology professors had been fond
of telling was that everyone should buy beach front property in the
Mojave to leave to their great-grand kids—assuming of course that the
great-grand kids would live to be several million years old. Perhaps not
as outlandish a thought as it might have been just a few years ago,
considering recent advances in genetics.
As JW stared at the far-off mountains, the sun’s dying rays reflected
off the body of what appeared to be a small jet. Funny how the desert
could play tricks on the eyes. It looked as though the plane was heading
straight into the side of the mountain. A few seconds later, the jet
completely vanished.
As the sun disappeared behind the western mountains, the car’s
xenon headlights came on and cut a double-beam, like two glaring blue
tinted eyes piercing the barren desert. From a distance the car appeared
to be traveling on an endless metallic scar cutting diagonally across the
desert floor, before disappearing into the distant hills. In actuality, it
was skimming several inches above the mag-lev lane of the recently

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built I15e, held in position by the repulsive force of the electro-

magnetic system.
JW glanced at the clock—it was almost 5:30. That would give him
just enough time to take a quick power nap. In about half an hour he
would check into his hotel, take a nice soothing shower and walk down
to a faux French sidewalk café to have dinner with a beautiful woman
he had met a few weeks before. He closed his eyes and quickly drifted
off to sleep.
“Warning! Abnormal electro-magnetic fluctuations. Recommend
switching to standard propulsion system. Warning! Abnormal
electromagnetic fluctuations. Recommend switching to standard
propulsion system.”
JW slowly and reluctantly opened his eyes from a rather pleasant
dream he had been having. The subject of that dream was an extremely
beautiful college student he had met at a seminar several weeks ago.
The seminar had been a real snooze-fest on the future use of DNA in
the next generation of molecular computing. The only thing that had
made it bearable was the fortuitous encounter with the aforementioned
beauty. He figured the odds of encountering someone that attractive at
such a tedious affair was the equivalent of winning the MegaLotto
jackpot. The fact that she found him remotely interesting enough to talk
to—well, those odds fell somewhere between being hit by lightning
and a meteorite on the same day.
Although JW didn’t give his looks much thought, most people
would consider him rather attractive. The Nordic cheekbones he’d
inherited from his grandmother combined with his grandfather’s
Olympic champion genes made him not only physically attractive, but
allowed him to move with the fluidity and grace of a world-class
athlete. None of which had never mattered much to him. He had zero
interest in sports, and had never considered himself athletic in any way.
But to the casual observer he could have easily passed for the typical
college jock. His only claim to fame in the realm of athletics, however,
was the fact that he had punched out the star quarterback in high
school. Hadn’t been much of a fight really—the cocky jock had taken a
swing at him, he easily ducked it and instinctively took a swing of his
own, his fist solidly connecting with the guy’s chin, knocking him out
cold. The whole thing had taken about five seconds. The aftermath had

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lasted substantially longer. But like many things in life, it worked out
for the best—at least for him. He had been the one expelled, even
though he had not started the fight. Star quarterbacks in east Texas did
not get expelled. His expulsion had led to a school with a better
computer curriculum. He also figured that the change of venue was a
good time for him to change his name from John Wayne to JW.
His parents had given him that moniker because they were great
fans of the late actor. They loved watching his old black and white
movies on the classic uni-tube stations. It never occurred to them that
the name might cause their son some consternation. So, it had been JW
since that misunderstanding with the unfortunate quarterback, who’d
come at him expecting Barney Fife, encountering instead the solid fist
of a swaggering Duke.
“Warning! Severe electromagnetic fluctuations. Highly recommend
switching to standard propulsion mode.”
JW rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced down at the
speedometer. It read 350 MPH, or a tad over 560 KPH. Everything
seemed normal, so what was Gertrude so worked up about?
“Gerty, what’s up? You seem upset.”
“I am detecting high levels of abnormal fluctuations in the mag-lev
power grid. I recommend switching to standard propulsion mode.”
“I heard you the first time Gerty. But if it’s such a big deal why
haven’t you switched over to tread-on-track?”
“I am not familiar with that system. Please clarify.”
“Oh boy,” JW muttered. All the advances in AI over the last few
years and they still couldn’t decipher simple colloquialisms. “Gerty, it
means standard propulsion. Why haven’t you switched us over to
standard propulsion?”
“Thank you for the clarification. I will add it to the database for
future reference. However, I am unable to switch to standard
propulsion as you have not engaged the full auto mode system.”
“Oopsy! All right Gerty, it’s all yours.”
“Thank you JW. Switching to standard.”
He felt the slight hum of the motors as they rotated the tires to
vertical. They never quite made it. A split second later he felt a jarring
bump underneath the vehicle, the instrument cluster and headlights
went dark and a mound of desert dirt and rock suddenly materialized in

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front of the windshield. He had two simultaneous thoughts—the first

was that he wasn’t going to make his date—the second was that this
was going to hurt…a lot.
Then everything went black.

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 Chapter 7
Central Africa 33,330 BC

Nwarht dove into the snow, barely avoiding the slavering maw of
the Knife-jaw. As the creature slid to a halt, turning for another attack,
he lashed out with a kick that caught it in the mouth. The Knife-jaw
went down. He scrambled to his feet, giving the creature a once-over to
make sure it was done. Ever since his first encounter with these things
on the day he’d found himself in this forsaken land, he’d quickly
learned the best way to dispose of them was to attack their fragile
cranial area.
Nearby, Idre and Naiv had the rest of the Knife-jaw pack occupied,
trying to keep them from reaching their kill—a huge Branch-head
brought down earlier that morning. Unfortunately, butchering such a
large kill took time. They hadn’t quite finished before the Knife-jaws
sniffed it out. Normally, they wouldn’t have bothered defending the
carcass, but hunting had been especially hard this last moon. They
needed all the resources they could get.
One of the Knife-jaws suddenly let out a long howl, not the normal
annoying laugh-like cackle. Immediately, the entire pack turned tail and
fled into the trees. Nwarht frowned. Knife-jaws never gave up that
easily. They were irritatingly persistent. Something must have scared
them off. The problem was, Knife-jaws were the most aggressive
creatures on these plains. All other life forms encountered so far ate
from the sparse plant life.
What had frightened them off?
“Well,” Idre said, jabbing her spear into the snow. “That was easy.”
“Too easy,” Naiv said nervously, looking over his shoulder.
“Terra-shake, perhaps?” Nwarht suggested. “They seem to sense
those.”
“Snowstorm most likely,” Idre said, pointing at the sky. “There are
clouds moving in from the mountains.”
“Hmm,” Nwarht said noncommittally. “We should finish up here
and head back to camp.”

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“Wilaia,” Naiv said suddenly. “Where is she?”

Idre frowned. “She was stripping leaves from the trees to pack
some of the meat in. Then Knife-jaws came—”
All eyes turned toward the trees. Wilaia’s pack and spear lay
discarded under a tree.
“No one saw where she went?” Nwarht asked, gripping his spear
tightly.
“The creatures must have taken her,” Naiv said, his eyes wide as he
scanned the forest.
“Not possible,” Idre replied. “None of them were anywhere near
her and they ran off in the opposite direction.”
Nwarht felt something uncomfortable tugging at the back of his
mind. A strange sense that he had been in this situation before. And
when he had been….
“Get out of here!” he snapped suddenly. “Both of you! We have to
get out—”
He never got to complete the warning. Something came sailing out
of the trees and impaled itself in Naiv’s neck. Blood erupted,
splattering both the snow and Nwarht in bright red. Naiv fell to the
ground, dead.
“Come on!” Nwarht cried, grabbing Idre’s wrist and pulling her
along behind him.
Out of the forest, three figures burst from the trees, yelling and
waving spears and clubs. They were short and stocky with huge noses
and long shaggy hair that covered their faces.
“Who—?” Idre gasped.
“I don’t know,” Nwarht snapped, risking a glance over his shoulder.
Their pursuers weren’t gaining much ground but they gave no
indication of giving up the chase. “They look like us, but I don’t think
we’re the same.”
“Natives?” Idre suggested, stumbling and almost losing her
balance. A spear impaled itself in the snow next to her. Nwarht pulled
her up and they kept running.
“But the similarity…” Nwarht trailed off as he spotted something in
the distance and an idea suddenly came to him. “Hold on, follow me!”
Hoping their pursuers wouldn’t realize what was going on until it was
too late, he and Idre veered off the plain and charged into the thick

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shrubbery at the edge of the forest. Yelling incoherently, the natives

followed.
Idre suddenly inhaled sharply and faltered. “Nwarht—”
“I know,” he snapped. “Just trust me.” He continued running,
heading directly toward the two Dagger-heads he had seen. Grazing
lazily, they gave no indication they had seen the commotion.
Nwarht continued running, feeling his breath starting to catch in his
throat. If his plan didn’t work….
They were only a few yards away when one of the Dagger-heads
looked up and snorted.
“Down!” Nwarht yelled, grabbing Idre and diving to the ground.
He landed painfully and rolled over, trying to shield Idre as best he
could. Behind him the sounds of pursuit stopped. Cries of alarm went
up as they realized what was about to happen.
Lowering their heads, the Dagger-heads charged. Nwarht covered
his head as the creatures thundered past, narrowly missing his arm as
they charged directly toward the natives.
Nwarht lay on the ground for a long moment. When he finally
pushed himself to his feet, he saw two of the natives running for the
trees with the Dagger-heads in hot pursuit. Another lay unmoving in the
snow a few yards away.
“That was too close,” Idre commented from behind him. “How did
you know those creatures would attack?”
“They cannot see very well and we were downwind. I hoped the
noise would sound like a threat to them. Evidently it did.”
“Brilliant,” Idre said softly. “But those natives—they look so much
like us. Could they have come from the same place we did? Maybe
they could answer some of our questions.”
“Perhaps,” Nwarht concurred without much conviction.

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 Chapter 8

JW opened his eyes. He looked around what appeared to be the

interior of a circular room. There were strange markings on the wall
that he couldn’t identify. He could see something that could be a chair
and another thing that might be a control panel. He tried lifting his
hand, but couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything. The only part of
his body that seemed to be functioning was his head.
The accident slowly came back to him. He remembered the
conversation with the onboard computer. Poor Gertrude. I hope she
survived.
But then he wondered if he had survived. Maybe this was a way
station to…what? Heaven? Hell? Well, maybe not that one. After all, he
hadn’t done anything great with his life but certainly nothing that
would warrant the other extreme. No, he was still very much alive—but
where exactly?
“Ah, Mr. Duarte, nice to see you awake and well.”
JW’s synapses sent a flare of alarm throughout his body at the
unexpected voice, but his body never received the message. All he
could manage was to turn his head slowly towards the sound of the
voice. The man standing there had the largest head JW had ever seen.
He had to work to keep himself from laughing. Upon closer
examination, he realized that it wasn’t so much the man’s head that was
large but rather his modest height and very slight build made his head
seem oversized by comparison.
“Where am I?” JW asked, trying to assess his circumstances.
“You are inside my ship.”
JW frowned in confusion.
“Last thing I remember I was in the middle of the Mojave Desert.
How did I wind up in the water?”
“No, we are nowhere near the water. This is a spaceship. I believe is
what you would call it.”
“A spaceship? Right! OK, I guess I’ll be leaving now. Can you help
me up? My legs seem to have fallen asleep.”

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“I think it would be better if you rested a while longer,” the man

answered, a slight smile on his face.
“You’re not going to start any funky alien experimentation on me,
are you?”
The man’s smile grew wider.
“For someone who barely survived a nasty accident, you seem to
have a very lighthearted way of looking at things.”
“My survival mechanism, I guess. So, come on, who are you,
really? Where are we?”
“As I said,” the man answered after taking a deep breath, “you are
inside my spaceship. As to who I am, and more importantly, where I am
from—that is going to take a while to explain.”
The man’s gaze flickered for a split second to JW’s side.
For the first time since awakening JW looked down at his right arm.
He had to suppress a scream at the sight. The arm was missing from the
shoulder down, a worm-like appendage growing in its place.
Sadness came to the stranger’s face as he took in the visible shock
that had just hit JW.
“You are actually quite fortunate that I happened to be here or you
would not be alive now.”
“I’m not sure which alternative I would have preferred,” JW
responded, all joviality stripped from his voice. “Can you tell me
exactly what happened?”
“As near as I can tell there was a malfunction in your mag-lev
system. Your vehicle was unable to fully deploy the wheels, causing
momentum deflection, leading to a catastrophic impact with a dune. I
had just enough time to send a dampening beam in your direction, but it
was not quite enough to protect you from the full kinetic force of the
impact.”
“Do I have any other…damage?” JW asked tentatively.
The man paused before answering. He seemed genuinely pained.
“You lost your right leg,” he answered slowly. “You also suffered
severe damage to several internal organs. I was barely able to save
you.”
JW closed his eyes. A deep layer of depression settled over him.
“I guess I should thank you anyway. Good thing for me you’re a
doctor.”

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 Sean T. Smith

“You’re welcome. But I am not a doctor. I am what you would call

a cultural anthropologist. Where I come from, we have to train in many
different disciplines.”
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You’re a little green man from Mars,” JW
retorted, not even trying to disguise the disdain in his voice.
“Mr. Duarte—”
“Please call me JW.”
“Okay, JW. You have been through a horrible ordeal so I am
somewhat reluctant to tell you exactly who I am and why I am here. If
you want me to, however, I shall.”
“We might as well do something to pass the time. It doesn’t look
like I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon. Can we start with your
name? Or should I just call you Yoda?”
The alien couldn’t help but smile. He looked at JW lying there
helplessly and wondered—were the circumstances reversed, would he
face the situation with the stubborn grit and wit of this man’s attitude?
He contemplated for several minutes before he got started. He could fix
JW’s physical damage, but he had very little knowledge of human
psychology and wasn’t sure how much emotional damage he had
suffered, or how much more he could handle.
“You can call me David. It’s the closest translation to my name I am
able to come up with. Let me start with your physical condition. As I
said, the damage to your body was extensive, but I can repair most of
it. Your body should be able to repair the other injuries.”
“Except for the fact that my arm and leg are missing,” interrupted
JW.
“Yes, but as I said, that is fixable.”
“You mean some kind of prosthetic?” JW snorted.
“No. I mean that I can re-grow your arm and leg. The progress has
already begun. It is a relatively simple process. I believe that your
scientists and medical doctors are already performing a similar
procedure.”
JW stared at the man, his mouth slightly open. Was this a joke?
“You’re telling me all I have to do is sit under a Gro-Lite for a
while and I’ll will get my real arm and leg back?”
“Yes. It will take a while for you to regain full control of your new
limbs, but by tomorrow you shall have a brand-new arm and leg.”

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David could see the brightness return to JW’s eyes although there
was still some skepticism there. He felt that he could probably tell this
young man his reason for being here. After all, he wasn’t going to be
able to return to his world so it would be nice to have at least one friend
here.
“How much do you know about anthropology and evolution?”
David asked.
“Not much. I just took one class during my undergraduate work,”
JW responded, attempting to twist himself around, trying to get a better
look at his ex-arm.
“Did it ever strike you as odd that humans developed at such an
incredibly fast pace? The Earth is about five billion years old. It takes
most species millions of years to evolve, yet, in a few thousand years,
man has gone from living in caves to exploring and colonizing nearby
planets.”
“I guess I’ve never given it much thought,” JW replied, frowning.
“Now that you mention it, I always thought that as a species we are
way too immature to have such destructive power at our fingertips. I’ve
always likened it to a two-year-old having a set of matches at his
disposal while sitting next to a can of gasoline. Chances of survival—
not good.”
“An apt analogy,” chuckled David. “The reality, however, is that
the human species should not have evolved as fast as it did. It should
have evolved even faster.”
“I don’t get it,” JW said with a frown. “I thought you just implied
that we evolved too fast?”
“You did, had you been part of the normal evolutionary cycle of
this planet.”
“You lost me,” JW said, his frown deepening. He looked around the
little room, searching for anything identifiable. Who was this guy?
“Your species, mankind, humans, whatever you choose to call
yourselves, did not originate on this planet,” explained David.
“Really? And you know this because—”
“I know this because 35,000 years ago my people exiled your
ancestors to this world.”

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 Chapter 9
Washington, D.C.

A shrill ringing startled Director Richard Bustos awake.

I have got to get a new ringtone.
He glanced at the clock on his Mi10 phone—9:10. He’d gotten ten
minutes of sleep. That had to be a new record. He realized with a start
the alarm wasn’t coming from his phone—it was the NAWS warning
system that was sounding. He pushed a button on the phone to activate
the grid. One of the walls in the room lit up and split into several high-
resolution screens. One was linked to his computer—the other three
gave him direct feeds from the various nuclear warning centers
throughout the country. Bustos’s initial reaction was to presume this
was yet another false alarm—the system had issued three in the last six
months—that presumption evaporated as soon has he began reading the
information feeding onto his screen.
“Mister Walden, speak to me,” he commanded in a voice that was
soothing but left no doubt that his request should be complied with
immediately.
“Hello Director. Good evening,” Walden answered, clearly
flustered and totally unaware that the object of his earlier fascination
was lying open on the floor, extremities clearly visible on the high
resolution screen.
“She’s quite lovely—haven’t seen one of those magazines in
decades. They’re probably rare collectibles by now.”
The lieutenant was momentarily confused until he realized what the
director was referring to. His face turned a rather brilliant shade of
crimson as he calmly picked up the hastily discarded magazine and
placed it on the table.
“My apologies sir—it gets rather, ah…quiet down here sir.”
“Don’t worry about it lieutenant. Your response and report seem to
be first rate. I only had a chance to glance at it. Fill me in on your
preliminary findings.”
“Yes sir. At 18:00 hours PSD, the system issued a 95% confidence

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alert that a nuclear detonation had taken place. At 18:05, with

additional data from Caltech, the system raised the probability level to
99% that a 20-megaton detonation had taken place somewhere in
southwestern Nevada. At 18:08 the system upgraded the probability to
99.99%, the yield to 25 megatons, and placed the event in an area
called Clark Mountain.”
“Do you concur SoCal?”
“Yes sir,” answered the operator of the San Jacinto facility. “100%
confirmation of event, yield and location.”
“Key West?”
“Confirmed, sir; 100% confirmation for event, yield and location.”
“Thank you, gentlemen. It appears we have ourselves a nuclear
event. Please issue a level I alert to NORAD. We are now at
DEFCON 3.”
“Yes sir.” All three centers answered simultaneously in subdued,
somber voices.
After placing a few calls to D.C., Bustos headed for the shower,
more out of habit than any real need for cleanliness. The shower would
clear his head and help him reflect on the unexpected recent events. As
the director of the NRC, his job these days consisted mostly of filing
daily one-page reports and occasionally a two-page report when the
system malfunctioned, or there was an accident at one of the thorium
powered nuclear plants. The world had been free of nuclear weapons
for several decades, but it appeared the genie was once again out of the
bottle. He had hoped that this day would never come, but he knew
better. Mankind loved its shiny toys, especially when they made a big,
loud, boom.
His mind drifted back to that terrible day, 25 years ago. He had
been in Beijing, ostensibly as a nuclear physicist sharing ideas on cold
nuclear fission fuel development, but in reality, he was there to gather
intel on China’s nuclear weapons development and readiness status. It
was a tense time in Sino-American relations, owing to a tug of war over
territorial rights to some resource rich islands in the South China Sea; a
tension badly exacerbated by the devaluation of the dollar. The U.S.
administration accused the Chinese of dumping dollars into the world
currency markets. The Chinese countered that the U.S. had been
printing trillions of dollars to prop up its own sagging economy. Both

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sides were correct, of course, but it nevertheless led to the instability,

which created the terrible event the world had been dreading for over
seven decades.
The U.S. economy and political system had been deteriorating for
years. The lunatic who the clueless public had elected for a second term
was looking at impeachment proceedings, when a senior adviser
managed to convince him that a preemptive nuclear strike against
China would be the perfect diversion to take the public’s attention away
from his malfeasance. Of course, the potential loss of billions of lives
was a minor concern—such considerations make barely a ripple in the
mind of the average sociopath. And so, on that fateful day, the United
States initiated an all-out nuclear attack against mainland China—or at
least, they tried. Only 10 of the ICBM’s with multiple warheads
launched. The issue was not just technological—numerous military
commanders disobeyed orders and refused to launch. Later
investigations revealed the remaining missile security systems had been
hacked by individuals or entities unknown and the codes deactivated.
The missiles that did leave the launch pads self-destructed shortly after
takeoff.
The Chinese responded instantly and initiated a counter strike.
Again, only a few of their missiles managed to launch. It seemed their
systems had also been infected. And so, halfway to their targets, the
Chinese missiles self-destructed—except for one. There were many
morbid jokes later about the quality control of Chinese nuclear
weapons being right on par with the rest of the junk they sold, but the
reality was it was only the self-destruct mechanism that
malfunctioned—the missile itself performed exactly as designed. The
single warhead missile, probably targeted on some Midwestern missile
silo, detonated over Kansas City, instantly killing the majority of its
750,000 inhabitants and eventually leading to the deaths of over a
million people.
A rebellion soon spread through the U.S. military, and the President
and those congressional members who supported his actions were
arrested. They were accused of treason and mass murder, quickly
convicted by a military tribunal and just as quickly executed. The trials
were a worldwide spectacle, broadcast continuously on all the networks
and the web. The executions were also broadcast live to the world. It

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was a simple affair, consisting of old-fashion firing squads. The

proceedings had the desired effect of appeasing not just the Chinese
and the friends and relatives of the victims, but also a nervous world
that had just stared into the abyss of oblivion.
Director Bustos had missed all of this. Almost as soon as the air
raid sirens had gone off over Beijing, a group of seriously armed
soldiers had stormed the conference room and escorted him out of the
building. He was taken to a nearby hotel, never any doubt in his mind
that he was a prisoner. There he stayed for ten days without
communication to the outside world. When allowed to return to his
own hotel to retrieve his belongings, it was quite apparent that
everything had been thoroughly searched and examined.
As soon as he turned on the TV, he was bombarded with newscasts
of the Kansas City devastation and the government executions. The
glass he held in his hand with the freshly poured drink, dropped to the
floor. He hardly noticed. He walked slowly toward the TV, as if
somehow, by getting closer to the nightmare he might wake up. But it
wasn’t a nightmare, it was reality and it wasn’t going to end that easily.
He stumbled to a chair and sat down. His mind fought mightily to reject
the reality of what it was seeing. Finally, when he had no choice but to
accept the facts, he lowered his head and began to weep.
In his sorrow, he also felt shame—shame because he wasn’t crying
for the hundreds of thousands who had perished, he was crying for only
one—his son.
But that was in the past. Right now, he had a job to do.

:
As usual, a car was already waiting for him when he got
downstairs.
New driver, he noted offhandedly. He figured Colonel Gates must
have finally decided to retire. The driver held open the back door of the
sedan. As the director approached, the driver stood up straight and
started to salute, stopping as he realized his mistake. Instead he held
out his hand.
“Director Bustos. It’s a pleasure, sir. Major Philip Lucas at your

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service.”
The director grinned as he approached the major. “Military habits
die hard, don’t they major?”
“Excuse me sir?”
“The salute.”
“Oh. Yes, sir. I guess they do. With the new structure, you never
know who to salute. Confusing to an old-school boy like me.”
Bustos closed the rear door of the car, walked to the front and sat in
the passenger seat. The major smiled and got behind the wheel.
“Don’t care for the back seat, sir?”
“Why, is there something wrong with this one?”
“No, sir,” he responded as he started the car and slowly pulled away
from the curb.
The director removed a pair of Geo-eyes from his pocket and put
them on. They appeared to be a regular pair of sunglasses, which they
were. They were also a fully integrated computer system with real time
3D global vision. As soon as the system sensed its proximity to the
director’s eyes, it did a full retinal security scan and a moment later,
Bustos was looking down at a real-time 3D representation of his car as
it pulled away from the apartment.
He had been resistant to this newest piece of technological gadgetry
when the whiz boys first presented it to him, but after using it a few
times he wasn’t sure how he could live without it. He stared intently to
his left and it was as if he was flying across the United States at an
unbelievable speed. He unfocused his stare slightly and the landscape
slowed as he approached the Rocky Mountains. He fine-tuned his gaze
and was soon approaching the neon-polluted air space over Las Vegas.
A few seconds later he was staring down into a hole that had once been
the top of Clark Mountain.
No debris. Interesting.
He blinked hard for a second to lock his geographical location, then
blinked at the satellite icon at the top of his field of vision. Instantly the
full array of orbiting satellites appeared. He blinked on the three that he
thought would give him the closest pictures of Clark Mountain in the
last 24 hours. As the high-resolution images appeared, one next to the
other, he frowned.
“Very interesting, Watson,” he mumbled under his breath.

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“Excuse me, sir?”

“Are you familiar with the work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,
major?”
“Some of it, sir,” he replied. “The fictional Sherlock Holmes was
inspired by one of his medical school professors, if memory serves.”
“I’m glad you realize the fictional part, because I’m amazed at how
many people, some of them highly educated, believe Sherlock Holmes
was a real person.”
“Well, in a sense he is.”
“How do you mean?”
“The mannerisms, deductive logic and clever sayings were all
based on a certain professor, or actually Doctor Bell. Watson was
actually based on Conan Doyle himself. Also, given the number of
books and stories that feature Sherlock Holmes as the protagonist, he is
an extremely well defined character. As such, he might just as well
have been a real person. Metaphysically speaking, he is real. Unlike
you and me, who will cease to exist one day—Sherlock Holmes is
immortal.”
Director Bustos glanced at the major, arching one eyebrow.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You majored in philosophy.”
The major smiled. “Minored, sir. I have a degree in mechanical
engineering and I have a Master’s in Aeronautical Engineering.”
“Which give you the ideal credentials for your current assignment,”
said Bustos with a slightly sarcastic smile.
“They can’t fire me and they can’t kill me. So, here I am at your
disposal.”
“Pilot?”
“Yes sir. Fighter jock.”
“Thought so. What happened?”
Lucas tightened his grip on the steering wheel slightly.
“Had some weak capillaries in my brain. Started hemorrhaging
after a training mission that involved some high G maneuvers, so they
pulled my wings. I had some gen-cell therapy last year to correct the
problem. My doctors gave me the green light, but the brass won’t give
me back my fighter wings. Too risky, they say.”
The director laughed, and the major’s grip on the wheel tightened
again.

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 Sean T. Smith

“With all due respect sir, I don’t think that’s particularly funny.”
“I’m sorry major,” Bustos said, shaking his head. “I wasn’t
laughing at your situation, but at the ridiculous thinking of bureaucrats.
God forbid they should let someone in one of the most dangerous
professions in the world do something risky.”
The major relaxed slightly, and shrugged.
“Oh, I don’t think they’re particularly worried about me, sir. I just
don’t think they want me banging one of their toys into the side of a
mountain.”
“Cynical, but probably accurate,” Bustos replied. “But back to my
puzzle. One of your metaphysical being’s famous lines was, ‘when
solving a puzzle, you first eliminate all the impossibilities, and then,
whatever you have left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’”
“Eminently logical,” Lucas replied.
“So, let me ask you this. If a mountain top in southern Nevada is
not there today, but it was there yesterday, and if that mountain top was
not blown off by an explosion nor was there time to remove the
mountain top by other means between yesterday and today, what’s the
explanation?”
“Which of the factors are absolutes?”
“The mountain top is not there today, it was not blown off, and
there was not enough time to remove it.”
“Then, the mountain top was not there yesterday either.”
“Elementary my dear major. The only problem is that I am looking
at a very high res picture of the mountain taken only a few hours ago
and the top is there. I am also looking at a real-time 3D image of the
mountain and the top is definitely gone.”
“Well, sir, then given the mountain’s proximity to Las Vegas,
perhaps they hired one of those magicians to make it disappear. I
remember going to a show many years ago and I’ll be darned if this
magician didn’t make an airplane disappear from that stage. It looked
real to me.”
Bustos pulled off the Geo-eyes and gave the major an appraising
look. What is this guy doing chauffeuring people around?
“By George my dear Watson, I think you might be on to
something,” Bustos said.
He put his Geo-eyes back on and did a quick search. He smiled and

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removed the glasses from his face.

“Major, how would you like to go to Sin City for a few days?”
“You’ll have to clear that with my base commander, sir.”
Director Bustos pulled out his phone, tapped a few keys and
replaced the phone in his pocket.
“Done. You’ll be co-piloting the Gulfstream with Colonel
Williams.”
Lucas couldn’t contain his smile. “I guess rank does have its
privileges.”
“Yes it does.”

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 Chapter 10

The Gulfstream G10 went hypersonic as soon as it reached 45,000

feet. Richard Bustos felt himself being pressed against the comfortable
leather seat as the massive thrust of the scramjets kicked on. In a few
minutes, they were doing over Mach 4 as they flew west over
Kentucky. Soon after, Major Lucas stepped out of the cockpit.
“We’ll be landing at Nellis in about an hour, sir.”
“Tell Colonel Williams to head for McCarran,” Bustos instructed.
“Okay. I’ll have him change the flight plan.”
“No flight plan changes. Just head for McCarran.”
“Do you mind if I ask why, sir?” Major Lucas queried.
“This is a civilian aircraft, major. It will attract zero attention if we
land at McCarran. On the other hand, a civilian aircraft landing at
Nellis in the middle of the night might raise a few eyebrows.”
“Understood sir,” responded the major, before heading back into
the cockpit.
Bustos reclined his seat and closed his eyes. In a few minutes, he
was deep into a dreamless sleep.
A hand shook him gently awake. “Director Bustos, we’ll be landing
in about ten minutes.”
The director rubbed his eyes, trying to shake away the fatigue. He
brought his seat upright and looked out the window at the bright lights
of the Las Vegas strip. A few minutes later, the aircraft made its
touchdown, gentle as a feather, and taxied to the private aviation
terminal of McCarran International.
As the jet pulled up to its designated gate, Bustos looked out at the
behemoth that McCarran had become. With the rapid economic
turnaround after the nuclear and financial horrors of the early twenties,
Vegas was one of the primary beneficiaries of the abundant newfound
discretionary spending of the general population. Older casinos were
torn down, new mega-casinos like the Nouveau Paris sprung up, and
the rest of the city expanded to keep up with the increased population
needed to serve the many needs and desires of the never-ending inflow
of tourists.

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The airport went through the largest expansion of all to

accommodate new mega jets and hyper jets that could take someone
from London and deposit them in Vegas in under three hours. The
airport had grown to seven terminals; two international, four domestic
and one for private aviation. The terminals were as much as 10 miles
from the main airport hub and were connected to it by vactrans tubes.
The vactrans system transported passengers in shuttles that were shot
through vacuum tubes at speeds approaching 200 miles per hour. Even
from the furthest terminal, a passenger could be at the main hub in a
few minutes. From there, the vactrans system could take passengers to
any of the major casinos, shopping centers or the downtown district.
Bustos grabbed his bag and poked his head into the cockpit. “Thank
you for the ride gentlemen. Don’t recall having had a smoother landing,
even in the hover landers.”
“Truth be told, these things pretty much land themselves these days.
We’re not much more than high tech babysitters,” Colonel Wilson
responded with a shrug.
“Maybe, but I’m still glad you guys are in the cockpit. Pilotless
planes and driverless cars still make me nervous,” Bustos said with a
slight shake of his head. “Major Lucas, please meet me at the car rental
terminal once you’ve put this baby to bed. I have a feeling I might need
some of your expertise where I’m going.”
“The mysterious mountain, I presume.”
“You presume correctly.”
“I should be there in fifteen minutes,” Lucas told him.
“Excellent. Thank you again colonel.”
“My pleasure, sir,” Colonel Wilson said.

:
The door to the vactrans shuttle closed with a gentle whoosh
several seconds after the director entered. He found a seat next to one
of the large windows. He wasn’t exactly sure why they had bothered
with windows. There really wasn’t much to see. It must be the
psychological fact that people needed windows so they didn’t feel as
though they were enclosed in a coffin. A few seconds later the shuttle

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 Sean T. Smith

accelerated to its top controlled speed of 300 KPH. Director Bustos

disembarked at the car rental terminal in less than three minutes. His
stomach arrived a few seconds later. He wondered how many people
lost their lunch their first time on one of these things. Just another one
of those tradeoffs in modern life. Or maybe it was age—the younger
people on the shuttle didn’t seem to have any hyper-motion issues.
He sat down near the rental counter and put on his Geo-eyes to
catch up on any new developments. The hazmat team was already at
the mountain, but having difficulty entering the site. Apparently, the
place was virtually impenetrable.
Interesting.
There had to be some serious money behind this project. State-
sponsored was his first thought, but he quickly realized that didn’t
make much sense. He would consider that later, right now he wanted to
find out a little more about a company called Holo Photonics. A few
eye-blinks at the appropriate icons and he was looking at a very
impressive 3D rendition of the company’s home page and the various
products they offered: Complete 3D holographic recreations of various
landscapes, hardscape and buildings.
Impressive. Very impressive indeed.
He blinked at the phone number and the system instantly connected
him.
“Holo Photonics, how can I direct your call?” A very pleasant
female voice asked.
“Hello, I need to speak to someone about your company’s various
products?”
“Personal or commercial?”
“Commercial.”
“One moment please.”
There was a short silence, punctuated by some faint holding music.
“Scott Wright, how can I help you?”
“Mister Wright, I was wondering if you could tell me a little more
about your large-scale products?”
“Certainly! By large scale I’m assuming you mean a building of
some kind?”
“Actually, I was looking at something substantially larger. Like a
mountain, for instance.”

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There was a momentary silence. “A mountain, you say. Well, it’s

possible but it would require a—”
“Warning! Virus alert,” his Geo-eyes screeched in his ear as the
inside lit up like a Christmas tree.
He quickly removed the glasses from his face, threw them on the
floor and stomped them into several pieces. He reached into his pocket,
pulled out his Mi10 and dialed his head tech at the whiz-kid lab, as he
called it.
“Director, we’ve got problems,” a panicky sounding voice
answered instantly.
“So I gather. What’s going on?” Bustos asked.
“A particularly nasty worm infected your Geo-eyes and almost
immediately jumped to our system. We’re staying ahead of it, but just
barely. So, excuse me if I can’t chat right know.”
“Okay William. Fill me in as soon as you get a chance.” The
connection was dead before he finished the sentence.
Bustos reached into his bag and pulled out a small vial. He
unscrewed an eyedropper from the vial, reached down and squeezed a
few drops on the multiple pieces of the Geo-eyes. They smoked slightly
and then dissolved into several pools of black liquid.
“Those glasses must have really pissed you off,” Major Lucas
commented from behind him.
“No, they just developed a little virus, so I put them out of their
misery.”
“So much for your arrival in stealth mode.”
“Quite right, major. I think I may have screwed-the-pooch on that
one,” Bustos said wryly.
“Excuse me sir?”
“Sorry. Just an old expression my father used. Not sure what he
meant, but he used it when he made a big blunder. I think this
qualifies.”
“Blunder? What happened?”
“You gave me the idea with your illusionist reference. It made me
recall an article I read about 3D holographic projection. That led me to
this company called Holo Photonics which sells some very realistic 3D
holographic recreations of various objects, including full-sized
buildings.”

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 Sean T. Smith

“So theoretically they could recreate a mountain top.”

“That was the inquiry that led to the demise of that very useful
gismo,” Director Bustos declared. “As soon as I asked about
purchasing a holographic mountain my Geo-eyes were hacked. More
disturbing is that my tech lab was also instantly hacked.”
“Sounds like you need better tech guys.”
“No, they’re quite good. They just ran into someone who is better.
Apparently, much better.”
“Do you think that this Holo Photonics Company is related to
whoever is responsible for whatever is going on at Clark Mountain?”
Major Lucas asked.
“Sure seems that way. I’m sure it wasn’t a coincidence that my
system was hacked as soon as I asked about the mountain graphic. The
only question is—to what extent?”
“I guess the first thing we should look into is company ownership.”
“Already did. Unfortunately, there are so many corporate layers that
it will require a forensic accountant to unravel it all.”
“What next?” Major Lucas inquired.
“Next, we rent a car and head off to Clark Mountain.”

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 Chapter 11
La Creperie, on the Nouveau
Champs-Elysées: Las Vegas, Nevada

The Parisian Avenue des Champs-Elysées was arguably one of the

more beautiful cosmopolitan spots in the world. Its cinemas, cafés and
luxury shops rewarded visitors with a unique experience during their
visit. Horse-chestnut trees lined the sidewalk, shielding it from both the
sun and the traffic passing on the road. It wound through the 8th
Arrondissement in northwestern Paris, 1.18 miles from the Place de la
Concorde in the east, to the Place Charles de Gaulle in the west. Its
buildings were baroque-influenced regular architecture, typical of the
Haussmann Boulevard architecture of the Second and Third Republic.
The avenue also offered the best in upscale shopping, including a
Disney Store, Nike, Gap and the largest Adidas store in the world. The
Greater Depression of the late 2010s, however, had hit France
particularly hard. The city of Paris had fallen into great disrepair and
malaise. It had only recently begun to reclaim its former glory.
Remarkably, 6000 miles away, Paris had been recreated in such
stunning detail, that anyone strolling down the avenue, or enjoying an
espresso in one of the many sidewalk cafés, would be hard-pressed to
distinguish the recreation from the original. The Paris hotel expanded
on the theme it started in the late 1900s with the creation of the mini
Eiffel Tower, by recreating the Rive Gauche in the early 2020s and then
the complete Champs-Elysées in the early 2030s. Most Parisians had
been aghast at the audacity of the Americans in recreating their
treasured landmarks. Once they began to see their own monuments
decay in the wake of the economic malaise that had held all of Europe
in its grip for the better part of two decades, they changed their attitude.
In the throes of loss, Parisians began to take a more positive view of the
replica, with its stunning attention to detail. Few forces are more
galvanizing to the French than nostalgia, and the Nouveau Avenue
Champs-Elysees evoked an affectionate measure of support, no longer
considered a sacrilegious abomination.

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 Sean T. Smith

None of that mattered to Jessica, however. Having never seen the

original, the Champs-Elysées of Las Vegas was just fine.
She glanced at her watch—8:34. Her date was a half hour late, not
that it bothered her much. She wasn’t a stickler for punctuality and
didn’t expect it from others. The evening was also nice—not too hot
and the Creperie had several fountains and French music playing,
making just sitting there quite relaxing.
The waiter came over and threw a rather obvious look at the three
empty coffee cups on her table. “More coffee, mademoiselle?”
“Si, señor,” Jessica said, smiling sweetly. “Por favor?”
“Of course,” the waiter replied, not even bothering to hide his
contempt. He gathered up the cups and spun away, muttering
something that sounded like, “Americains stupides.”
Jessica pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. It probably
wasn’t nice to make fun, but snooty, pretentious people had always
annoyed her. Whenever a chance presented itself for her to get under
their skin, she jumped at it. The faux French waiters at the Nouveau
were, in her opinion, a clear example of what turned a nice place into a
crummy snobitorium.
She looked at her watch again—8:40. Too nice a night to go back to
her room, she decided, and with another coffee on the way and the
pleasantness of the evening air, she decided that this was the perfect
place to catch up on some work. She leaned over and grabbed the MiS
computer from her bag. She unrolled it, still amazed that this clear
sheet of composite graphite material was an ultra-fast, super-powerful
computer.
Right next to her ear, a voice whispered, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Jessica yelped and spun around, almost falling out of her chair.
Bryce plopped down next to her, grinning broadly. He was holding
a cup shaped like the Welcome to Las Vegas sign, no doubt containing
some alcoholic concoction. A huge curly straw topped it. His hair was
tousled and his shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing several lip prints
on his chest.
“Having fun yet?”
“Not as much as you apparently,” Jessica retorted, giving him the
once-over. “What have you been doing? Actually, never mind, I don’t
want to know. A better question is what are you doing here?”

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“Well, you know, when you mentioned going to Vegas it got me

thinking. Why party at the dorm when I can take a joyride up to Sin
City and party here? And I knew you would be here, so me and the
guys rented a car, a sweet new mag-lev job, and here I am! No-brainer.
Glad to see me? Cuz I know you are.”
“Well I’m not, especially in that getup. Button your shirt Costa,
before I toss my lunch. You’re sick.”
“If you mean sick, as in hot, you should have seen the hotties I was
with. They were sick.”
“After licking your chest, they would be. And you didn’t really say
why you’re here, here. As in here, in the café, talking to me.”
Bryce shook his head, taking a sip. “Well, it was pretty weird
actually. I was at the Lux nightclub. You know, sampling the local
cuisine.”
Jessica rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, they had to kick everyone out cuz all the lights, the slots,
basically anything electrical went out.”
“Blackout?”
Bryce scratched his head. “Um, well, I guess. I think someone said
it originated in SoCal but it hit some of Vegas too, mostly on the
southern part of the strip. The Lux, Bay, Trop, Excal—they’re all down.
Not to mention part of the airport. Must be pretty scary coming in for a
landing and then BOOM, the lights go out. Bet a couple of those
cockpit seats are going to need some extra cleaning.”
Jessica snorted. “So, a blackout crashed your party, you got bored
and came spy on me?”
“Maybe. Your date stood you up, huh?”
Shaking her head, Jessica turned back to her computer. “So it
seems. I don’t really care. I have work to do.”
“Aww, are you serious? That sucks. That he stood you up, not that
you have to work. Although, that sucks too. Hey, why don’t you let me
be your date?”
“In your dreams,” Jessica replied, powering on the computer. “I
shouldn’t even let you talk to me until you button that shirt.”
“Whatever,” Bryce grunted as he peered at the graphite pad.
“Whoa, is that the program you were talking about? That’s awesome!”

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Despite herself, Jessica couldn’t help but smile. Bryce sounded so

enthusiastic, just like a little kid. He was probably pretty drunk of
course, but it was still funny. “Yes, this is it. Amazing detail, right?”
In fact, the program was very, very detailed. 4D Virtual Simulator
Expander was UNLV’s newest pride and joy, created for students and
anyone else with a bunch of money to burn.
It could create unbelievably detailed sketches, diagrams and
movies. If you had the newer generation MiS computer, the camera
could scan objects and instantly create a 3-D diagram. Best of all, the
newer iS computers had recently presented a new feature, a small plug-
in monitor which could project 3-D images into real space, one that
could be manipulated as though it were tangible. Jessica could get
drawn into it for hours if she didn’t watch it.
“This is the diagram I came up with for my report,” she said,
clicking on a file. Immediately an image of a brain sprang up in mid-
air. Jessica tapped the screen twice, and the image expanded, zooming
in until a network of nerves and electrical impulses filled the screen.
She pointed to the top right corner. “This is the part of the brain that
sends a signal to the death-associated protein kinase, DAPk when
someone is ready to die. Oh, and DAPk is a tumor suppressor gene as
well, ironically. So there’s a lot of new fascination about the kinase
family in general. Anyway, that’s what the gene looks like.”
Bryce took another sip out of his glass. “Cool.”
“Well yes, and it’ll look even better when I’m explaining it along
with my report about how to turn it off.”
Bryce almost choked on his straw. “Say-what-now?”
Jessica nodded. “It’s all in the DNA. So there must be a way to
rewrite the genetic code to turn it off.”
“Okay, wait, back up, you lost me. You want to find a way to turn
off the death gene?”
“Right,” Jessica said, frowning at him. “You okay?”
“Sure,” Bryce coughed. “But, I mean, why would you want to do
that?”
Jessica stared at him. “Are you serious? If we could figure out a
way to turn off DAPk, think of what could happen. Humans would be
able to live forever. Unlocking DAPk wouldn’t stop there. If we can get

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the genetics of how it suppresses tumors, it could open up even more

possibilities. Cure disease. Think about it!”
“I am. And it doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
Jessica was speechless. “Costa, what are you talking about? How
could it be anything but a good idea?”
“It’s just…come on, Jessica. You’re the anthropologist and you
can’t see it?”
“See what? How many drinks you’ve had?”
Bryce set his glass down on the table and looked her in the eye.
“Jessica, life is only special because it always ends. It makes room for
something else. Plants, animals, even stars—they all die. And when
they do, something moves in to take their place. Sometimes better,
sometimes worse. It’s just how the universe works. You’re talking
about tampering with a fundamental force. Nothing good can come of
it.”
Jessica had to make a conscious effort to close her mouth. “Costa,
seriously. What were you drinking tonight?”
Bryce rolled his eyes. “Look how messed up our world is
sometimes. It has highs and lows, but it evolves. That’s the thing. You
of all people should know—if we found a way to stop death, how could
we ever evolve, ever get better? It would just be the same people,
making the same mistakes, doing bad things because they can’t die and
because nothing is there to replace them. Earth is the way it is because
it has evolved to be that way. Because things died but also were
motivated to make a difference while they were here.”
“But just think—what if Einstein, Edison, Newton or Jobs were still
alive? Imagine what the world might be like.”
“What if Hitler, Stalin, Robespierre, Pol Pot were still alive?” Bryce
countered. “Imagine what the world would be like! But that’s not even
the point. Would you be as driven as you are if you were immortal?
Think about it. You’d have all the time in the world to get all your
Master’s and PhD’s. And once you did, then what? Go travel the
world? Explore the solar system? The universe? Search for the meaning
of life itself? Great! It’s a billion years from now, you’ve done all those
things—now what? My guess is you wouldn’t do any of those things
because you’d always have a tomorrow. The drive to get things done

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would cease to exist. Why do it today when there is always a tomorrow,

or the day after, or the year after, or the—”
“Okay. I get your point,” Jessica cut him off, feeling slightly
deflated. “But don’t you think that some people are just driven to do
things and accomplish things?”
“Of course. But the underlying motivator is the fact that we have a
limited time to accomplish these things,” Bryce shrugged as he picked
up his drink and took another swig.
Jessica glanced at the simulated picture of electrical impulses on
her iS, then looked back to Bryce. “You know what Costa? For a party
animal who should be up on charges for the mass murder of brains
cells, you actually make a lot of sense. You’re pretty smart for a frat
boy.”
“I’m not a frat boy, I just party with them. Besides, you gave me all
the inspiration I needed as soon as I saw your gorgeous body.”
“And there’s the misogynistic Bryce I love. Back from the edge of
sobriety.”
“What! Did I just hear a compliment?”
Jessica shook her head and glanced back to her computer screen.
Suddenly, the diagrams she had worked so hard on didn’t seem as great
anymore. She sighed and closed the program. “You know, I’m
beginning to think you’re right. I am focusing too much on my work.
Maybe I do need some time off.”
Bryce almost spewed his drink. “Say again?”
“It’s just…well look at the thing I did yesterday. Grilling Dr. Green
and the rest of the council about that whole ‘missing link’ thing,
insisting that my thesis had to be right, even if there is evidence to the
contrary. Looking back, it was pretty stupid.”
“I guess,” Bryce said, wiping liquid off his chin. “Sorry I went off
on you. It’s your passion. I’m just saying you should loosen up a little.”
Jessica glanced at him. “Thank you.”
“Huh? For what?”
“For being so annoying that you bring me back down to earth.
You’re a good friend.”
“Yeah, well,” Bryce said, draining the rest of his drink. “Don’t get
too sentimental. I think I like it better when you’re hating on me.”

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Jessica shook her head again and laughed. For a moment, it felt
good just to be relaxing with a friend and not worrying about anything.
The waiter returned with her coffee and a sour expression. “Here
you are, mademoiselle. One coffee.”
“Merci beaucoup,” Jessica replied, giving him another sweet smile.
“C’est une belle soirée, vous ne pensez pas? Oh, merci pour le café.”
The waiter stared at her for a second, his face turning several
different colors, then turned and walked quickly away, muttering,
“Stupid college kids.”
Jessica looked over at Bryce, who was looking at her with that
crooked half-smile on his face, trying not to laugh. She raised her
eyebrows questioningly. “So, was that loose enough for you?”
Bryce chuckled. “Well, let’s just say you have some work to do and
leave it at that.”
Jessica smiled and sipped her coffee, listening to the calming
sounds from the water fountain and the hum of nighttime activity
drifting on the evening air.
It would be a long time before she felt relaxed again.

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 Chapter 12
Mojave Desert: Outside Las Vegas, Nevada

“Look Yoda…sorry, I mean David, I’m having a really hard time

believing that you’re some kind of alien from a planet in a galaxy far,
far away.”
“No, I am from another planet but it is very much in this galaxy,
and only a few hundred light years away. Let me show you something,
JW.”
David went over to the control panel, waved his hand over it, and
the hull of the ship disappeared. The star-filled desert night appeared
above them. The dark desert floor was barely discernible a few hundred
feet below. JW could see only the sky because he was still in the cot,
flat on his back, with limited head motion. At the moment, he had no
desire to look anywhere else. The captivating canvas of the night sky
held his gaze in a hypnotic grip. There were so many stars. And what
was that star-like thing moving rapidly across the sky? It took him a
second, but he realized that it was a man-made satellite streaking across
the sky. He never realized they were visible with the naked eye.
Note to self, you need to get out more.
He was still in his revelry when he sensed motion and realized that
the ship was now slowly moving. Rotating. He started to yell out that
he was going to fall, then realized it was a false sensation. Even though
the ship had rotated a full 360 degrees, JW had remained firmly in
place though there was nothing visibly holding him or his cot in place.
The ship continued to accelerate. Before long the ground below was
nothing but a blur. A light in the distance grew brighter, a few seconds
later becoming the full bright splendor of the Las Vegas strip. The ship
slowed as it passed over the neon cacophony. JW had no sensation of
any type of G forces as they slowed to a stop a few miles beyond the
city.
“Wow, that was some ride. You could give a guy a warning next
time.”
“Sorry, I just needed to turn off a few of the stars.”

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Being this close to the city lights did indeed have the effect of
turning off a few million stars. Only a small fraction of stars were now
visible. He could still make out the Big Dipper, Orion and a few other
constellations, but the Milky Way and most stars were now invisible.
“Look just south of the handle of the Big Dipper,” instructed David.
“Do you see that dim, orange star?”
“Yes. I think so,” answered JW.
“That, my friend, is my home.”
A deep sadness seemed to befall the alien. Despite his own
miserable situation, JW suddenly felt sorry for him. “Hey, don’t look so
glum. You’ll be back there soon, right?
“I’m afraid not. The truth of—”
JW cut him off with a loud moan, stunned by a sudden suffusion of
pain tearing through his right side. A look of agony contorted his face.
The alien rushed to JW’s side. “I think this will help.” The alien
injected something directly into the side of JW’s head and the pain
immediately subsided.
“Thanks,” said JW as his facial muscles relaxed, then regained his
jovial expression. “What is that stuff? I think I want some more.”
“No, I think that dosage is sufficient. To answer your question, it is
a synthetic form of what you call morphine, without any of the
unpleasant side effects.”
“Hey, I can move,” JW exclaimed in astonishment, tentatively
wiggling from side to side. “I thought I was paralyzed.”
“You were. I implanted a probe that caused temporary paralysis. I
didn’t want you thrashing about and causing yourself further damage. It
also prevented the pain impulses from reaching your brain. I was in a
hurry and wasn’t sure how your body would react to pain medication.”
“All I know is that it’s reacting really well to this medication,” JW
replied as he gingerly attempted to sit up.
He looked at his leg for the first time. He had to lie down again
almost immediately as a wave of nausea hit him. It wasn’t so much the
sight of his missing leg that sickened him as much as the visible
muscle, veins, arteries and nerve endings on his half-formed leg visible
through the still translucent skin.
“Okay doctor, how long before my appendages are complete, or at
least opaquer? It’s going to be difficult for me to look at them in their

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current state.”
“They shall be completely formed within a few hours. Then it’s just
a matter of rebuilding your muscular strength. Then you’ll be as good
as new, perhaps even better.”
“I don’t need better—I just want to be my old self.”
“Well, there are side effects to the procedure,” the alien mentioned
casually.
JW eyed him suspiciously. “Side effects? What kind of side
effects?”
The alien looked at his guest intently. He had spent a good portion
of his life learning about humans and their behavior, but this was the
first one with whom he’d actually interacted. Everything he learned
about them seemed to hold true. He felt as though he had to—what was
their expression? Walk on eggshells. He certainly didn’t feel threatened
by this human, even had he been uninjured, but he sensed that bubbling
just below the surface was a cauldron of rage ready to erupt. This
appeared to be endemic to the whole species.
“Are you reluctant to tell me for some reason?”
“I just do not want you to get upset.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll kick your ass?”
The alien had to smile. “No, in your current physical state I do not
believe your pugilistic abilities pose a great threat to me. My concern is
more of a culture bias, if you will.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” JW said, a puzzled expression crossing
his face.
The alien paused for a second searching for words. “My race does
not possess the anger gene; we are completely non-aggressive. But it is
actually more complicated than that. At a cultural level, it is abhorrent
to us to cause harm or even offend others, whether they are of our own
species or not. We are also highly empathic, so we can feel others’
suffering and unease. That is why I am being cautious as to what I tell
you, and how I tell it.”
“I’m a big boy. Just tell it to me straight,” JW replied with a
bravado he didn’t really feel.
“Very well. I will attempt to be as concise as possible. The
regeneration of your limbs is being accomplished by something we call
embryonic cell rejuvenation. It basically consists of taking some cells

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from your body, reverting them to their embryonic state and recoding
them to mimic the needed cells. We then load the cells into nanonites
and inject them into the affected site. The nanonites place the cells into
the appropriate areas of your body causing your limbs to regenerate. It
is a little more complicated than that, but as I said, I am trying to be
concise,” he concluded, looking at JW’s face for a reaction.
“OK. Except for the nanonites part, I think I follow all the science,
but what about the side affects you mentioned?”
“The nanonites are the side effects.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“Think of nanonites as tiny nurse robots. After they apply the cells
they keep doing what they are primarily programmed to do,” explained
the alien.
“Which is—?”
“To heal you, of course.”
“Meaning—?”
“Meaning they will scour your body looking for things to fix and
improve.”
“You mean to tell me that you injected me with a bunch of robots
that are doing god-knows-what inside my body?”
“Yes. But I have a fairly good idea of what they are doing.”
The alien’s responses were maddening and made JW feel like
punching him. But as the alien had correctly pointed out, he was in no
physical shape to be hitting anyone. Besides, he had saved his life after
all. Still, the idea of some creepy-crawlies inside his body just made his
skin...crawl.
“I am truly sorry I have upset you, JW.” This time the expression of
pain and sorrow was clearly visible on his face.
“No. No need to apologize. I’m grateful you saved my life. I guess I
just have a nano-watchyamacallit phobia.”
“Nanonites,” the alien offered.
“Yeah, them. Nanonites. Exactly what are they doing inside of me
and how long do they—?”
“Last?”
“Yes.”
“Until the primary repairs are complete.”
“You mean, until my arm and leg have regrown?”

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“Yes. Plus, any additional time for supplemental repairs.”

“What supplemental repairs?” JW demanded, wondering why the
alien wasn’t capable of a straight answer.
“Repairs needed to complete the primary repairs.”
“Of course,” JW said in exasperation. “David, you said that you do
not like to cause people pain.”
“That is correct.”
“Well, you are causing me a great deal of discomfort right now by
not giving me complete answers. Please tell me what these things are
inside my body, what they are doing and most importantly, when they
are leaving.” JW glared at the alien and then lay back down on the bed.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
The alien again looked pained. He was having a difficult time
comprehending this human’s reaction. He seemed rational, calm and
relatively intelligent. At the same time, he acted irrationally, was prone
to fits of rage and could not understand basic concepts. Humans were
as intriguing as they were frightening.
“Again, I apologize.”
“Please, stop apologizing and just tell me about these things.”
“As I said, nanonites are microscopic robots used for internal
treatment of trauma and disease. They accomplish this in many ways,
but in your case, they will continue to treat you after your limbs’ re-
growth. As I explained, your limbs will be recreated by the planting of
these stem cells that have been reprogrammed to believe they are your
arms and legs. But, because these are embryonic type cells they will
develop your limbs only until they are fully developed—for an infant.
Obviously, those would not be of much use to you, either functionally,
or aesthetically. Therefore, the nanonites will continue the maturation
process and will also stimulate the muscle cells in order to strengthen
them,” the alien paused for a breath.
“OK. I’m with you so far,” JW said carefully, still looking at the
alien with a certain amount of skepticism.
“Now comes the tricky part of the process.”
“That wasn’t the tricky part?”
“No. That was basic genetics. The problem now becomes somewhat
of a balancing act. You see, the nanonites have no way of knowing
exactly when your two regenerated limbs are equal in strength to your

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two original limbs and the rest of your body. If they stop the maturation
process to soon, your created limbs may not function as your other
limbs. Leading to balance, coordination and motor skill issues.”
“So what?” JW said with a shrug. “It’s not like I’m a world class
athlete or anything.”
“It’s true that you might be able to function reasonably well.
Unfortunately, that is not how these nanonites work. They were
designed for optimization of the regenerated limbs and I have no way
to reprogram them, even if I knew how.”
“So, exactly how much of this optimization will they do?”
“Basically, they will continue to increase the muscle mass in your
entire body, while the maturation and strengthening of your new limbs
continues,” David said.
“Am I going to look like one of those freakish bodybuilding types?
Exactly how big am I going to get?”
“You will not be significantly larger. Your muscles will be slightly
larger and more defined, but the biggest changes will be at the cellular
efficiency level.”
“In English, please.”
The alien looked puzzled. “I thought I was speaking English. Did I
switch dialects without realizing it?”
JW smiled, the first genuine smile since waking up. For a second
the alien reminded him of Gertrude. “No David. I meant, can you
explain what you mean by cellular efficiency level?”
The alien smiled back, pleased that he had provided the human with
amusement. “Of course. It simply means that your muscle cells will
convert glucose to energy much more efficiently, giving you increased
strength, agility and stamina.”
“Whoa, superpowers! Okay, I’m actually starting to like these side
effects.”
“Why yes, of course! They will be very beneficial to you. And there
are other benefits,” continued the alien happily, now that it appeared
JW was warming up to his future improved physicality. “Because of
your increased strength, speed and agility; the nanonites will also have
to improve some of your neural functions to optimally coordinate with
your physical skills.”
“English please.”

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“Yes, of course. You see, because you did not develop these new
skills over time, you would otherwise initially be quite...uncoordinated.
And while this would improve over time, there is the possibility that
you could, inadvertently, hurt yourself or someone else with your
newly acquired strength. That would not be acceptable. Hence, the
modifications.”
JW mulled over this new information. “But this wouldn’t change
my intellectual capabilities in any way, would it?”
The alien looked at JW thoughtfully. He wondered if this might be
one of those trick questions that might get him agitated.
“Well, you will have increased mental acuity. But, that would be a
good thing—correct?”
“Yes, I suppose so. I just want to make sure I can still do my job.”
“You will not only be able to do your job, you will be able to do it
better and faster.”
JW smiled broadly again. He was beginning to really like the idea
of a new and improved JW. He looked at the alien and his smile faded.
He realized the alien would make a terrible poker player. His
expression told JW there was something more.
“OK. Spill it. What else?”
The alien looked troubled again. He wasn’t sure how the human
would take this last bit of information. “As I mentioned, the nanonites
are programmed for optimization. There is one thing about you—well,
about your entire species, which is sub-optimal.”
“And, that is?”
“Your life span.”
The furrow on JW’s brow deepened. “And exactly how do they
plan on fixing that?”
“They will turn off your death gene.”

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 Chapter 13
University of Nevada-Las Vegas: Paradise, Nevada

“The death gene.”

The unexpected comment jarred Jessica out of her thoughts.
“What?”
“The death gene,” Bryce repeated. “You know. That thing we had
that big discussion about earlier. In the middle of all that arguing, you
never really told me why you started researching it in the first place.”
“Hmm, that’s true,” Jessica nodded. “But answer something for me.
Why are you still here? I’m sure the Luxor fixed its lights by now. Not
being rude, just, you know, wondering.”
“Well, after the blackout I guess I just lost my mojo. Plus, I don’t
want you wandering around at this time of night by yourself.”
“Right,” Jessica said, trying to keep a straight face. “My drunk
friend is my bodyguard.”
“Hey, I’m not drunk! I’m buzzed. There’s a difference.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “That why you walked into the UNLV sign
at the entrance?”
“It’s dark! I’m not a bat, Jessica.”
“Okay Costa, forget it. To answer your question about the death
gene, I just thought it would be something really fascinating to learn
about. I read about it a long time ago, so when I got the chance, I got
into the research. It turned out to be just as fascinating as it sounded.”
“Sure,” Bryce said. “Naturally. But if you start some freaky
Frankenstein experiments on me to test it, well, let’s just say that’ll be
the end of our friendship.”
“Costa, there wouldn’t be any point in experimenting on you.”
“Uh huh. I think that was an insult, but I’ll let it slide.”
Jessica snorted under her breath. The two of them kept walking
across the deserted campus. This late at night, and on a weekend, the
university was eerily empty and silent. A handful of lights were shining
dimly in various buildings, but other than that, the campus was dark.
The only substantial illumination came from the streetlamps scattered
around the grounds.

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Jessica placed her hand in the scanner and the library doors slid
open with a slight whoosh. Inside, the only lights came from hundreds
of computer monitors at study stations. These days, no one bothered to
turn them off given that their power usage was practically nonexistent.
Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls although few students used
books nowadays. Five stories above, the newly installed solar dome
skylight gave a magnificent view of the night sky.
Bryce eyed the bookshelves disdainfully. He had never particularly
liked libraries, the snooty people you often found in them, or all those
books with all their pages. He preferred iReader tablets where you
didn’t have to see all the pages left to read.
“Pretty dead in here, isn’t it?” he commented, glancing around.
“It is a little empty,” Jessica admitted. As soon as she said it, a cold
chill ran down her spine, like someone was watching her. She glanced
over her shoulder, but there was no one there.
“That’s normal though,” she said, a little louder than she meant to.
“It’s just because it’s after hours.”
Bryce didn’t respond, and Jessica felt the chill resurge.
She tried to ignore it. “Anyway, there’s a book here by one of the
professors at the university, Professor Jennings. Jennings is the head of
the physics department but he wrote this book on creationism on a
whim, to counter the widely held academic belief that man evolved
from apes without going into theological creationism theory. Suffice it
to say, the book was highly criticized. Because of his tenure and
standing in the physics community, the university allowed one copy of
his book, in print only, archived at the library. Apparently, it’s the only
copy, since he wrote it especially for his students and UNLV staff.
“Let me guess. It’s all about death.”
“No dummy, what did I just say? It’s about human origin.”
“Oh jeez,” Bryce muttered. “See, Jessica, this is where double and
triple majors start to conflict. How do you keep track of all that info
flying around your brain?”
“Well for one thing I don’t kill my own brain cells with drugs. Like
someone I know.”
When Bryce didn’t respond, Jessica thought she might have gone
too far. Then she glanced over at him—and he wasn’t there.
Jessica froze. Her mind went blank with shock. Involuntary images

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flashed through her mind of Bryce murdered by zombie librarians or

attacked by possessed almanacs. She started to call out, but stopped.
More images flashed through her mind; horror movies with dumb
teenage girls calling out, ‘is anybody there?’ prior to being impaled by
some random garden tool. Jessica didn’t want to become the sacrificial
dumb chick in a real-life horror film, so she suppressed her impulse to
call out.
Trying not to make any noise, she started backing toward the exit. A
hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her down in between two
bookshelves. Jessica almost screamed before her mind registered it was
Bryce.
“Costa, what the—”
“Quiet,” he hissed, gesturing at the other end of the library.
“There...there’s someone sneaking around the librarian desk.”
Jessica glanced at where he was pointing, and saw a tall figure
standing in front of the display case. “So, there’s someone there.
What’s the big deal?”
“Didn’t you just say that this is after hours?”
“Then it must be a staff member,” Jessica sighed. “This is
ridiculous Costa, let’s just go over and ask.” Shaking him off she stood
up. “Excuse me?” she called, striding over to the display cases. Bryce
cursed under his breath and followed her.
As they go closer, the figure turned around. It was a man. In the
muted light of the computer monitors, he looked to be about 25 years of
age, with dark brown hair spiked into a fauxhawk. He wore a brown
leather jacket over a black muscle shirt, denim jeans and combat
boots—typical street-biker getup. Something about him, however, gave
the impression of someone much older. He was tall and thin—several
inches taller than Bryce, with pale skin and sharp, well-defined
features. He was good-looking, but something about him still made
Bryce wary. Anyone who snuck around libraries at midnight was
suspicious in his book.
“Hello,” the man said, his voice surprisingly melodious for his
hard-edged appearance. “Forgive me, it appears I startled you.”
“That’s all right,” Jessica replied, brushing her hair behind an ear.
“It wasn’t like that at all.”
“Of course, of course. But I’m forgetting my manners.” He held out

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his hand. “Eric Locke. But please, call me Locke. I prefer it over Eric.”
“Jessica Bustos. And this is—”
“Bryce Costa,” Bryce said, not bothering to shake his hand. “What
are you doing here at this hour?”
Locke turned toward him, and Bryce noted uneasily that his eyes
were pure black.
“Costa!” Jessica reprimanded. “Don’t be so rude.”
“No, it’s fine,” Locke said. He smiled at Bryce. “I admit, this looks
suspicious, but I assure you it’s all perfectly harmless.” He gestured at
the display cases. “Since I’m not registered at the library, Professor
Jennings gave me permission to his book, for a project I’m working
on.”
“Oh really?” Jessica said. “What a coincidence, I’m kind of here for
one of his books too. I’m working on my thesis on human evolution.”
“Yeah,” Bryce said, raising his eyebrows at her. “What a
coincidence.”
Jessica glared at him then turned back to Locke. “Perhaps we could
get together and exchange some ideas on the subject.”
The man gave her an odd look, and then smiled slightly. “I would
like that. Here is my business card. Give me a call. I’d love to help you
with your research. It’s only a hobby of mine, but I consider myself an
expert on the subject. Now if you will excuse me, I have an important
meeting to get to and I’m running a little late.”
Bryce stared at the man’s back as he walked out. He couldn’t put
his finger on it, but something about this guy didn’t feel right. His
speech and voice were as unmatched to his age as his appearance.
Looking for a book...my butt. Bryce thought. And if it was so important
to look for a book after library hours, why leave without it?
“Wasn’t he dreamy?”
Bryce glanced over at Jessica. She had a far-off look in her eyes.
“That guy?” Bryce muttered.
“What was wrong with him?”
“I didn’t like his look or his attitude.”
“You’re jealous.”
“I am not—yeah, whatever,” Bryce said, raising both hands in
defeat. “I just think the guy is bad news.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll still hang with you even if this guy sweeps

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me off my feet.”
Jessica walked over to the display cases and put her hand against
the glass. The case glowed and the doors slid open. Jessica reached
inside and plucked a book from the case. Bryce waited impatiently as
she shuffled through the pages, muttering to herself. To anyone else, it
would have looked as though she was just skimming, or possibly trying
to tear the paper, but Bryce knew that she was actually picking out
whatever information she was looking for and memorizing it. He really
wondered sometimes if she was human.
After about ten minutes, Jessica closed the book and put it back in
the case. “Got it. All right Costa, let’s get out of here.”
A rumble from her mid-section sounded much louder than it should
have been in the tomb-like quietness of the library.
Jessica grinned. “Guess I’m hungry. What do you say we get a bite
to eat, Costa?”
“You go ahead,” Bryce answered distractedly. An unpleasant
thought was still nagging him. “Actually Jessica, could I…uh…that is,
could you get that book back out for me?”
Jessica frowned. “Don’t tell me you actually want to read
something?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I do go to school to learn things.
Mostly. And this sounds like it’s interesting.”
He could tell Jessica wasn’t buying it. The look on her face was a
pretty clear indication of that. But she apparently decided that arguing
was pointless. She opened the case again and handed the book to him.
“Here you go Costa. Once you’re done just put the book back and close
the door and the case will reseal. But for God’s sake don’t damage the
thing. There’s only one copy.”
“Got it Jess, don’t worry. You go get something to eat at SU. I’ll
catch up to you later. This shouldn’t take long.”
Jessica just shrugged and turned to leave. As she walked out, she
couldn’t help feeling a little...what? Hurt, she finally decided. She had
been, on various levels, rejected by three different men tonight.
Maybe she should put on some makeup tomorrow.

:
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Bryce left the book on the counter and sat down in one of the
library’s very cushy, very comfortable chairs. He had dozed off many
times in chairs like these, attempting to study for one mid-term or
another. Right now, though, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.
There had been something very creepy about that guy. Bryce felt it with
every fiber of his being. The fact Jessica had found him attractive in the
slightest was odd, but maybe not all that surprising. She didn’t date
much, her job and academics kept her insanely busy, and on those rare
times she did go out, it didn’t take long before her brains,
outspokenness, and abrasive personality made her date run for the hills.
Bryce walked back to the display cases. He scanned the titles,
unsure what he was even looking for. Although come to think of it, the
guy had said he was looking for a book that guy Jennings had written,
same as Jessica. Still, why would he say it that way? Who remembered
writers’ names? Why not just call it a biology book, or astronomy or
even astrology for that matter?
Bryce shook his head to clear it. “Dude,” he said out loud to
himself. “You have got to cut back on the booze. Now you’re conjuring
up cheap spy thriller plots and conspiracies. Maybe he was just a weird
guy looking for a boring book.”
Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. No, there was something
amiss here. He could feel it in his gut.
Bryce looked at the books in the case again, and realized that they
were virtually all by the same person; Jennings. There were at least 20
books with his name on them. Everything from introductory physics
and quantum physics to theoretical physics had been published under
his name.
He pulled out a few of the books and started leafing through them.
He recognized some of the formulas and theories, but for the most part,
it looked like gibberish to him. He started putting the books back, then
paused. One of them wasn’t a physics book at all. By the look of it, it
wasn’t even a simple college text. The title read:

EM P
T he Bloodless Weapon
By Robert P. Jennings

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Bryce frowned as he pulled it out of the case. What was something

so esoteric doing mixed in with the rest of Jennings’ books? He
skimmed through the contents, noting with interest the different ways
Jennings had detailed what an EMP was. Not just excess from a nuclear
explosion, but an untapped tool of great potential. Bryce saw several
theoretical military applications, as well as notes on the effect an EMP
would have on society in the modern age.
Bryce suddenly felt uneasy. Was this the book Locke had been
looking for? If that was the case, Bryce suddenly felt very worried
about just being in the library. If he suddenly decided to pop back in
and found Bryce reading this book, the results might not be pretty.
Hastily, Bryce shut the book and was about to shove it inside when
something cold seemed to crawl across his neck.
No
Alarmed, Bryce dropped the book. Had someone just spoken?
He glanced around. Nothing.
Now even more determined to get out of this place, Bryce bent
down to retrieve the book.
He frowned. On the inside cover, so faint that if the lights had all
been on he probably wouldn’t have even noticed, something was
glowing.
Bryce took out his pocketknife, vaguely aware that he was
damaging school property, and cut into the book.
Hidden between the hard cover of the book and the soft page of the
inside of the cover was a tiny computer chip. Bryce recognized the
glowing object as one of the new orgem data wafers. They were
roughly the size of a fingernail, but 10 times as thin and capable of
storing about one petabyte of data. He tapped his MiWatch to see if it
had a compatible interface. It did.
It took about a minute until the upload was complete. Must have
been a lot of data on there. He opened the appropriate app and started
to read.
When he was done, he could only say one thing.
“Oh shit!”

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 Chapter 14
Mojave National Preserve: California-Nevada Border

The lights of the HUV pierced the blackness as Director Bustos and
Major Lucas turned off I15 onto Clark Mountain Road. The rental
agent had informed them that the mag-lev road was inaccessible, so
they opted for the all-purpose HUV, figuring that some of the roads
they would be traveling would not be tire-friendly. The road ran past an
old molybdenum plant that had shut down 20 years earlier. After a few
miles, the two-lane blacktop turned to dirt, and a few miles after that it
became a fire road barely wide enough to navigate. After a particularly
jarring bump, Lucas decided it was time to switch to hover mode. He
pushed a button and large turbo fans started rotating, gently lifting the
vehicle off the ground. The tires rotated inward and locked flat against
the underbelly. The ride instantly smoothed out. They were now
traveling a few inches above the road surface on a cushion of air.
“Thank you major. My kidneys owe you one.”
“No problem, sir,” Lucas replied. “It’s just going to take us a little
longer to get there. In hover mode, this thing can only go about 30,
probably slower on this goat path.”
“No rush. My team is already up there poking around.”
“What exactly are they looking for?”
“That’s a good question. As you have already surmised, there was
some type of nuclear event near here—a 25 megaton nuclear event.”
Lucas whistled softly. “Some event.”
“Yes. Fortunately, given the lack of detectable radiation, it appears
to have been an underground detonation,” Bustos noted
“How considerate.”
“It does help to eliminate a few theories. Probably not terrorists, per
se, as they would have detonated above ground and near a population
center.”
“Plus, most terrorists these days are so splintered and underfunded,
it’s highly unlikely they could have built a nuke,” Major Lucas added.
“Correct. Not to mention that fissionable material is so tightly

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controlled and tracked by my agency that obtaining it through black

market sources seems highly unlikely.”
“They used an existing nuke?”
“That would be highly disturbing, since the last of all known
existing nuclear weapons were to have been destroyed almost 20 years
ago.”
“I always assumed that some had to have been missed.”
“It’s possible,” Bustos admitted. “But I was heavily involved in the
dismantling process and I assure you, we were quite thorough. We used
every bit of available intel, technology and good old fashioned
detective work to ferret out every one of those bad boys. I spent a
decade of my life devoted to it. Still—”
“Almost sounds like it was a personal quest for you, sir.”
The director said nothing, simply stared out the window into the
pitch-blackness of the desert.
“I’m sorry if I crossed a line. Didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s all right, Major Lucas. It is said that time cures all wounds, but
it’s not true. Some wounds never heal and some nightmares never
cease,” Bustos said, his voice tightening on the word nightmare.
“You lost someone in KC?” the major asked.
“My son.”
They continued in silence for the remaining few miles. The work-
lights of the NRC advance investigative team cast a bright glow against
the stark darkness of the desert mountain in the background. The HUV
slowly rounded a curve in the narrow fire road and Lucas had to jam on
the reverse thrusters to keep from slamming into a bank of emergency
generators.
“Wow, okay that was close. Like I said, maneuverability isn’t one
of this baby’s strong suits.”
“Excuse me a second while I pop a couple of blood pressure pills,”
Bustos said. Major Lucas couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“Sorry, sir. Didn’t expect the road to end that abruptly. The GPS
said we were still a couple of miles from the top.”
“We would be, major,” Bustos said, climbing out of the vehicle, “if
someone hadn’t absconded with the mountaintop.”
They walked a few yards to the end of the road and peered several
hundred feet down into a hole about 50 meters wide.

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“Right. Forgot about that little detail.”

“I think we both did, major. Well, let’s go down and have a look.”
Even though the engineers had done an excellent job putting up the
temporary elevator in a relatively short time, the ride down, with only a
flimsy looking guard rail between them and an unforgivingly hard
floor, made for a hair-raising two-minute ride to the bottom.
“Well, that was fun,” Lucas said dryly as he stepped off the
platform.
“Richard! Welcome to mystery mountain,” hollered a man in a
hardhat. As he walked toward them with his hand extended, Lucas
couldn’t help but think the man himself looked like a mountain.
“Arthur, good to see you. It’s been a while,” Bustos greeted him,
extending his own hand as he approached.
Lucas noticed an expression of pain flicker across the director’s
face. He understood a few seconds later, when he shook the huge man’s
hand himself. He winced at what felt like a vice gripping his hand.
“I always tell myself not to shake your damn hand, and I always
forget,” Director Bustos grumbled.
“Sorry, Richard. I’ve been working on that. But I’m a little excited
by what we’ve found here.”
“Let’s get started, then,” Bustos said. “Major Lucas, this is my chief
engineer Arthur Douglas. Arthur, the newest member of my team,
Major Philip Lucas.”
“Pleasure,” Lucas mumbled as he digested the ‘newest member of
my team’ remark.
“So, Arthur. Fill me in. What’s gotten you so excited that you had to
crush most of my metacarpus?”
Even though both Bustos and Lucas were over six feet tall, the
NRC’s chief engineer easily dwarfed them. At six foot ten and 350
pounds of solid muscle, his presence was as physically intimidating as
you might imagine for a man rumored to be almost entirely responsible
for taking Yale to its first football championship in over a hundred
years. After graduating, not finding the corporate world to his liking,
Douglas had started his own engineering firm. He came across Director
Bustos’s radar on a recommendation from an acquaintance at MIT.
Although Douglas was initially reluctant to work for a government
agency, Bustos proved to be extremely persuasive. In the end, the deal-

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closer was the detail that Douglas would not have to give up his own
engineering business. In fact, Bustos brought the entire engineering
business under the auspices of the NRC with the proviso that Douglas
would retain complete autonomous control while having access to the
complete resources of the agency. As the old saying goes—a win/win.
As the two of them were conversing, Lucas eyed the VTOL-55
aircraft parked off to the side.
That explains how they got all this junk down here.
He recognized some of the equipment that was deployed all around
the crater, but most of the machinery was foreign to him. As he walked
across the metal floor he noticed a sliver of a seam which appeared to
bisect the floor exactly in half.
“Mister Douglas,” he called out.
“Call me Arthur, please.”
“Okay, um…Arthur,” Major Lucas said. “Has anyone noticed that
we seem to be walking around on top of a giant door?”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course. That’s one of the many fascinating things I
wanted to show you.”
“What if it opens?”
“You’re quite right to wonder, major. We anticipated that possibility
as well, no matter how unlikely. So, we have placed transverse titanium
beams across the seam, to protect against that possibility.”
“I am assuming by the presence of the plasma drills and the lack of
holes on the floor that you have been unable to drill through this thing,”
Lucas asked, looking around.
“You are correct again. In fact, that is fascinating item number two.
This door is made of an alloy I have never run across before. It’s
impervious to all our drills. Heck, we can’t even scrape the thing to
take a metallographic sample. And so far, our spectrum analysis has
been inconclusive.”
“So, what do you think it is?” the director asked, frowning down at
the metal beneath his feet.
“I’ve searched every unclassified database I can think of. And a
few…um, sort of classified and have found nothing that even comes
close to this.”
“But if you had to give me your best guess, what do you think it
is?”

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“Richard, I can’t tell you, because I don’t think it’s from this
world.”
“You’re saying it’s extra-terrestrial?”
“That’s my best guess, yes.”
Lucas frowned. “With all due respect, Mr. Douglas—”
“Arthur,” the engineer insisted testily, as if expecting some type of
pejorative objection to his hypothesis.
“With all due respect, Arthur, assuming your best guess as to the
origin of this thing is correct, I would suggest we get everyone off this
platform as quickly as possible.”
Arthur stared at Lucas for a few seconds and scratched his head.
Lucas had completely thrown him a curveball. He expected strong
skepticism or outright ridicule from the soldier but instead he had
accepted his suggestion at face value without questioning it.
“Thank you for not disparaging my hypothesis, but what’s your
immediate concern?”
“Well, assuming your hypothesis is correct and this…door…is of
extra-terrestrial origin, actually even if it is not, a material this
advanced, and whatever hydraulics are powering it, is not going to be
impeded by a couple of titanium bars. If whoever, or whatever, decides
to open these doors, they will open. And not knowing what’s on the
other side, I would rather not be standing here. Heck, if my hypothesis
is correct, I definitely do not want to be standing on top of this thing.”
“Why not major, are you afraid of little green men?” Douglas
asked, breaking into hearty deep laughter.
“No, they don’t bother me. Heights bother me; and I believe we
have several hundred, or thousands of feet of empty space beneath our
feet.”
Lucas led the others to the side of the mountain.
“Does anyone have a pair of binoculars? And can we get some
lights aimed upward in this direction?”
No one moved for a moment, until Arthur gave a curt nod. A
technician ran over with a pair of binoculars, while several others
moved a cluster of lights toward the edge and pointed them upward
toward the opening.
“Do you see all the dirt and small rocks piled up here? Now, do you
see those markings on the wall about twenty feet up? Notice how they

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seem to get darker as you go up?”

The director took the binoculars and focused them in the area Lucas
was pointing. He could see what appeared to be grooves that seemed to
go deeper as he looked further up.
“Interesting,” the director remarked.
“What do you think they are?” asked Douglas.
“I believe those markings and this displaced dirt were caused by the
wash from a jet engine,” Lucas replied.
“Not to contradict you, major,” Douglas interjected, “but that wall
is composed mostly of loose dirt and rock. A jet engine would have
blasted a few tons of dirt off it.”
“True,” Lucas conceded. “At full throttle, a jet engine would have
brought down half that hillside. Heck, even at quarter throttle it would
have done substantial damage. But at idle it would have merely
displaced some dirt and a few rocks.”
“A hover jet,” Douglas decided.
“I believe so,” Lucas said, nodding. “And, it didn’t land here.”
“Why not?” the director asked, knowing the answer almost before
he finished asking the question.
“No way out.”

:
“All right, let’s get all the important instruments loaded into the
VTOL. Hustle! The lighting units and small tools can stay behind. Let’s
hurry,” Bustos ordered. He turned to Lucas. “I’ll stay here with my
team. Go ahead and take the car. Meet me back at the hotel.”
“What hotel is that, sir? We came straight here from the airport.”
“We’re booked at the Paris. Check us in, and I’ll fill you in as soon
as I get there. Oh, and by the way—thank you.”
“Yes sir.”
The major walked to the elevator while dodging the bustle of
activity all around him. As the elevator ascended, a nagging thought
kept tugging at him. There was something missing from this setup, but
he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something about this wasn’t right.
From his increasing altitude, he was starting to realize just how

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relatively small the opening was. Only a small hover jet, or helicopter,
could easily fly down into the opening. Carrying a substantial amount
of cargo into the facility by means of small transport aircraft would be
time consuming and inefficient. Plus, that level of activity out in the
open would attract attention. Attention would seem to be the last thing
that whoever was behind this would want. Lucas walked slowly to the
HUV, an idea taking shape in his head.
Halfway down the mountain a bright flash lit up the surrounding
hills. Dry lightning, Lucas thought offhandedly. Not uncommon around
these parts. As he rounded a sharp curve further down the mountain, a
movement by the side of the road caught his eye.
He stopped the HUV, grabbed the gun from his bag, and walked
cautiously across the road. A strange smell of ozone and charred flesh
assaulted his nose.
As he got closer he realized the movement he had seen was an
injured coyote attempting to drag itself into the bushes. Lucas
wondered why the animal was so eerily quiet. After a few more steps,
he realized the severity of the creature’s injuries. Its front legs were
gone and most of its throat had been ripped off, which explained the
silence. Yet, there was no blood. He was amazed that the creature was
still alive. This must have happened recently, he decided.
The coyote looked at him momentarily, then lowered its head,
instinctively knowing that its life was over.
Lucas wasn’t looking forward to what had to be done, but he
couldn’t let the poor creature continue to suffer. He raised his gun,
aimed it at the animal’s head and fired a single shot. As he stood over
the sorry animal, wondering what happened to it, his mind suddenly
flashed back to a memory from 30 years prior.
He had been hiking in the southern Oregon Mountains, on his
vision quest. Although not widely practiced among his people, his
grandfather had encouraged him to go, in an attempt to give him some
focus. As a boy, Lucas was constantly in trouble for his pranks. After
his latest, which had gotten him expelled, his exasperated parents had
sent him to spend some time with his grandfather, hoping that the
elder’s wisdom might rub off on the troubled teen. That was just fine
with young Lucas, who loved spending time with his grandfather. He
had taught him to hunt, fish, and to respect nature and all her creatures.

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After a few days on the quest without food, and very little water, he
felt as though he was being stalked. He caught glimpses of wolves
flanking him. He built a fire that night, to keep the creatures at bay.
Although he tried hard to stay awake, sometime during the night he fell
asleep.
To this day, he was unsure if what happened next was real. He
awoke to the low growl of several wolves surrounding him. They
leered at him, eyes glowing red in the reflected light of the dying
campfire. He looked around desperately searching for his walking
stick, realizing even as he did so that it would not be much of a weapon
against the pack.
Just as the pack prepared to attack, a lone coyote ran out of the
woods, yelping and snapping at the wolves. The pack could have easily
attacked and killed the lone creature, but they did not. The coyote and
the alpha wolf stared at each other for several minutes, almost as
though they were communicating. After a while, the wolves turned and
disappeared into the darkness. The coyote then tilted its head back and
howled at the rising moon just appearing over the treetops. Turning, its
eyes bore into Lucas as though looking right into his soul. He held out
his hand to the animal. It sniffed it for a few seconds, then turned and
disappeared into the trees.
His grandfather later explained the vision to him. The coyote
represented a jokester or trickster, but according to legend, it was also a
healer and the creator of man. It represented the ability and will to
survive in the harshest of conditions.
He hadn’t given that incident, or vision, much thought in the
intervening years. But now, as he looked down at the mutilated body of
the regal creature, he wondered if that encounter had been the turning
point in his life. He had, after all, soon thereafter turned around his
mischievous ways to concentrate on his studies. Coincidence, maybe,
but he wasn’t much of a believer in coincidences. Perhaps the ancients
understood the connections between all creatures. Maybe the coyote
truly was his guiding spirit.
He carefully examined the animal’s wounds. Something seemed
odd. It was as though the legs had been surgically removed and the
wound cauterized.
What kind of sick bastard would do that?

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“You are one unlucky creature my poor friend. I suppose I should

bury you, but unfortunately I don’t have any tools.”
He walked back to the HUV and pulled an old workout sweatshirt
out of his bag. He tore it in half and gently wrapped the coyote in it. He
picked up the bundle, surprised by how light the creature was, and
placed it a slight hollow at the base of the hill. He picked up some
rocks, carefully stacking them on top of the deceased coyote until the
body was almost completely covered.
“Sorry, my friend. That’s the best I can do for you,” he said,
standing up straight, rubbing his sore back.
As he stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his spine, a
shadowy form halfway up the hill caught his eye. His first thought was
it might simply be a strangely shaped boulder, but that didn’t seem
quite right. He got into the HUV and maneuvered it so that the
headlights were pointing directly at the object.
He started hiking up toward the object. As he trudged up the dark
hillside, it occurred to him that this might not be the best idea he had
had today. He mentally went over just a few of the things that could go
wrong on the side of a desert mountain, in the middle of the night, out
in the middle of nowhere; broken ankle, rattlesnake bite, or an attack
by some of the relatives of the poor fellow under the rocks back there.
Curiosity killed the cat, he thought morbidly.
As he approached the object, it became quite clear that it was not a
boulder. In fact, he didn’t have a clue as to what it might be, but
something about it looked oddly familiar. He was sure he had seen
something like it recently. When he was 30 feet away from the object, it
emitted a hum and started rotating toward him.
Perhaps it was his training, perhaps it was his subconscious putting
all the pieces together just in time, but whatever it was saved his life.
He dove to the ground just as a plasma blast lit up the sky and seared
the air where he had been standing a split second prior. He rolled down
the hill for twenty or thirty feet before stumbling to his feet and
running, zigzag, back toward the road. He was almost there when he
tripped over the makeshift grave he had made for the coyote. He went
sprawling just as another blast from the weapon went over his head and
blasted into the HUV, taking out a headlight and most of the left quarter
panel. He crawled the remaining few yards to the road and hid behind a

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large boulder, cold sweat running down his back, blood streaming
heavily down his arms. He took off his shirt and waved it around the
rock to see if the thing was still poised to start blasting. All seemed
quiet. Apparently, at this distance at least, it no longer considered him a
threat.
He cautiously backed away from the rock, making sure that it was
in line between him and the death-spitting-machine-from-hell. Once on
the other side of the road, he got down on his belly and crawled to the
far side of the HUV. He guessed that the weapon’s sensors were
calibrated to detect motion within a short radius. Otherwise, the thing
would have blasted them off the road on the way up, or vaporized him
before he had hiked halfway up the hill. Still, he wasn’t taking any
chances. He got in on the passenger side, started the vehicle while
crouched down, and slowly backed the HUV a few hundred feet down
the road. He stopped the HUV and got out to inspect the damage—both
his own and the vehicle’s.
He shone the flashlight on the HUV and laughed humorlessly. “I
hope the director remembered to get the full insurance package when
he rented this baby.”
He stood in front of the remaining headlight of the HUV to look at
his own injuries. Most of them seemed to be superficial cuts and
scrapes. But the cut on his upper arm appeared to be rather nasty. It was
jagged, deep and oozing blood. He grabbed a bottle of water from his
bag and started washing out the wound. He then tore a piece out of his
shirt and tied it tightly above the cut. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to
bleed to death any time soon, he climbed back in the HUV, sat back
against the seat, closed his eyes and said a prayer of thanks to the
coyote that had almost cost him his life, and then saved it.
Trickster and jokester, indeed.
The remainder of the drive back down the mountain was slow and
uneventful. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his arm throbbed and
the rest of his body felt like he had gone headfirst into a meat grinder.
He tried switching the HUV back to AWD as soon as the road turned to
blacktop. As he suspected, the blast had damaged the hydraulic
mechanism. It had to limp the rest of the way in hover mode. He pulled
to a stop across the road from the molybdenum plant, and sat scanning
his surroundings for any sign of movement. After ten minutes with no

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apparent signs of life, he got out and walked across the road, stopping a
few yards from the fence. He picked up a rock and threw it at the fence.
Nothing happened. He got closer and peered into the darkness at the
side of the building.
“You sure look familiar,” he said into the darkness.
He went back to the HUV and turned it around so that the headlight
pointed directly at the side of the building. No doubt about it, sitting on
the edge of the roof was a weapon identical to the one that had tried to
kill him. Maybe that’s why the one on the mountainside had looked
familiar—he must have caught a glimpse of this one on the drive up.
He walked cautiously back to his vehicle, half-expecting the thing to
come to life and start blasting away, but like the one on the mountain, it
didn’t perceive him as a threat at this distance.
As he walked back to the car, Lucas considered his options. He
knew he should probably contact the director and fill him in, but he
was probably still occupied with the evacuation from the summit.
Surely Bustos didn’t need this on his plate just yet. Lucas knew he also
needed to get his arm looked at, but that too could wait.
As he got to the car, he realized just how much his head hurt. Not
feeling any desire to drive, he leaned back in the driver seat and closed
his eyes, determined to rest for just a moment.
Less than a minute later, he was asleep.

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 Chapter 15
Mojave Desert: Outside Las Vegas, Nevada

“Turning off my what?” JW asked, looking at the alien as though he

had just sprouted antennae out of the back of his head.
“You humans have a switch in your DNA which instructs your
bodies to die after a specific time. It is, however, an artificial switch
that can be turned off.”
JW’s jaw hung slightly open as he stared at the alien incredulously.
Nonetheless, as JW mulled it over, he realized what he was hearing
shouldn’t sound any stranger than being told he was on an alien space
ship, talking to an alien, while growing new limbs like some hairy,
overgrown, bipedal lizard. Sure! Death gene? Why not?
“So, let me get this straight. Your microscopic robotic do-gooders
can flip some switch that can make me not die.”
“Not exactly. You will not die from natural causes. But that incident
you had a while ago—that would have been quite fatal.”
“So, assuming I don’t step in front of a truck, I could live what—
1,000 years?”
“As far as I know, there is no theoretical limit. You could live
1,000,000 or 10,000,000 or 100,000,000 years. There is no physical
limit. The mental limit…?”
“Wait a minute. What exactly did you mean when you said
artificial?”
“I fear I am again treading into that oblique territory you seem to
dislike. So, let me start from the beginning.”
“Yes, why don’t you,” JW responded, eying the alien with a look
somewhere between—I think this guy might be loony tunes, and—
when does the queen of hearts jump up and say, “off with their heads?”
The alien seemed to catch the gist of his expression and smiled.
“I’m sure the credulity of this situation must be difficult for you to
absorb. And believe me, had your death not been imminent I would not
have intervened. But—”
“Yes, I know. It’s part of your religion, or something, to help

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people.”
“Yes, something like that. Would you like some tea?”
“No, thank you,” JW said, registering the bizarre juxtaposition of
his sudden good manners with the situation in general. “Some coffee
would be nice, though.”
“Certainly,” responded the alien as he disappeared.
Great, another magic trick. JW thought.
The alien reappeared a few minutes later holding two steaming
beverages. He gave the coffee cup to JW and sat down next to him,
gently steeping his tea.
“How did you pull that disappearing act, anyway?” JW asked, as he
took a sip of the wonderful smelling beverage.
The alien looked confused. Then his face brightened. “Oh, of
course. Again, I must apologize. Some things that are common to me
are obviously very strange to you. I simply went into another room,
which is separated by an energy curtain. Once you go behind it, you do
seem to disappear, much as if one walked into a different room. They
are more efficient than what you would call a conventional wall or
bulkhead on a ship.”
“Of course! Silly me.”
Although the alien didn’t feel particularly jovial, he had to smile.
There was something about this human that was very endearing.
“Exactly how much would you like me to tell you?” the alien said,
as he leaned back in his chair, appearing much more relaxed after a few
sips of his tea.
“Uh, everything, for starters. Who you are—where you come
from—why you’re here.”
“Very well then.”
The alien took another sip from his tea as a dreamy faraway look
came into his eyes. “Tea is a wonderful beverage,” he said to no one in
particular. “Such a shame it does not exist on my world.”
He looked back to JW. “Ah yes. My world. As I’ve shown you, I
am from a world some 250 light years from Earth. We call ourselves
Uvsum. We have lived there for some 750,000,000 of your years.”
JW raised his eyebrows. “Your species is 750,000,000 years old?”
“As near as we can determine. Some have hypothesized that we are
over a billion years old, but there is no concrete proof. But there are

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fossil records of our species dating back at least 750,000,000 years.”

“You guys never evolved?”
“Apparently not. There was no environmental reason for us to. The
geology of our planet is extremely stable, we had no natural enemies
and more food than we could ever consume. Therefore, no need to
evolve. Or so we thought. Then one day we discovered the Scaeva.”
“The what?”
“First, let me explain something about my species. We are, for lack
of a better word, languorous. Both mentally and physically, we are slow
and methodical. You might say we are the desert tortoises of our planet.
It takes many hundreds, thousands, sometimes millions of years for
new ideas and innovations to develop. Again, there was seldom a need.
Nevertheless, over the millions of years we achieved certain
technological advances. Most of them organic rather than mechanical
in nature. This very ship, in fact, is made almost entirely of organic
matter.
“About a million years ago we developed space travel. Mostly out
of concern that with the longevity of our species we might someday
outgrow our planet.”
“How long do you guys live for?”
“The length is variable, depending on the psychology of the
individual.”
“Psychology?”
“Yes. One of the side effects of long life is boredom.”
“Oh. Hadn’t thought about that,” JW said.
“At any rate, we first explored the nearby planets and other orbiting
objects and finding very little of interest, we headed for the nearby star
systems. It was in one of these neighboring systems about 60,000 years
ago that we discovered the Scaeva.
“We observed them from a distance for many thousands of years.
They terrified us. They were everything that we are not—violent,
aggressive, highly intelligent, savage, and barbaric. They committed
genocide on a global scale. They fought constantly, but reproduced at
such a prolific rate that they were never at a loss for new warriors. But
what truly terrified us about them was their technological progress.
Within 10,000 years they had gone from fighting with sticks to warring
with weapons of such destruction that a single detonation could destroy

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half the population.”

“Jeez. How did they keep from completely annihilating each
other?”
“A good question. A question we ourselves asked many times. In
our darkest thoughts, it was something we had hoped for. But,
unbeknownst to us, there were evolutionary forces at work which we,
much to our later regret, did not understand. How could we have?”
The alien paused for a few minutes. A faraway look came to his
eyes, conveying a deep sorrow. The emotion was so acute that for a
moment it was as though JW was inside the alien’s mind and could feel
his pain. JW simply waited for the alien to continue, not wanting to
intrude into his thoughts.
“How could I have known?” the alien asked, seemingly addressing
himself.
“How could you have known what?”
The alien looked at JW, appearing almost startled that someone else
was in the room.
“Oh! Well…Yes.” The alien seemed flustered. “Where was I?”
“You were asking how you could have known.”
“At the rate the Scaeva were developing, we feared it was only a
matter of a few thousand years before they discovered and annihilated
us. We had no way to defend ourselves. We had no weapons, no
defenses and no way to develop them. And even if we could, we could
not fight them. Fighting is as impossible for us as walking on a ceiling
would be for you. We simply cannot do it. And so, at a meeting of the
Elders, I proposed a solution.”
JW raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean, you? Didn’t you say
this happened like 60,000 years ago?”
“Yes.”
“So, are you saying you’re like 60,000 years old?”
“175,000 to be exact.”
“Wow,” was all JW could say.
The guy truly is Yoda. No, on second thought he has Yoda
completely beaten. At 900 years, Yoda was a baby compared to him.
“So, what was your solution?” JW finally asked, now thoroughly
immersed in the alien’s story.

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“It was a simple and obvious solution; to create a new species to

fight for us.”
“And that species was—?”
“That species was you. Humans.”

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 Chapter 16
Mojave National Preserve: California-Nevada Border

A persistent banging on the window startled Lucas out of a

dreamless sleep. Groaning, he sat up, eliciting jolts of pain from his
various injuries. Looking out into the early morning darkness he saw a
uniformed man standing next to the car. Grimacing, Lucas rolled down
the window.
“Hey buddy, are you all right?” the man asked, peering in with a
concerned expression on his face.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Lucas replied curtly. “Who are you?”
“I’m the guard for the building across the street. I saw your car
parked here and figured that with all the damage you must have been in
some kind of wreck. Man, you look like crap.”
“Yeah, well, I had an unfortunate encounter with some wildlife up
the road.”
“You need an ambulance?”
“Maybe. Do you have a first aid kit inside? I have some medical
training, so if you have a first aid kit, I can just patch myself up.”
“I’m sorry, they don’t allow anyone inside. If you can wait here I
can—”
Lucas reached into the center console and pulled out his gun. “I’m
sorry, I must insist,” he said, carefully stepping out of the HUV with
the gun pointed at the guard’s chest.
“Hey man, ca…calm down,” the guard stammered, his eyes
widening with alarm at the sight of the gun.
“Don’t I look calm?” Lucas asked casually.
“Look, just don’t shoot me. I have a wife and kids.”
“Do I look like I care right now? I had a really, really bad night. I
haven’t had my morning coffee and every bone in my body hurts. So,
be a good boy, get me inside the building where maybe you have some
decent coffee and maybe, just maybe, we’ll both make it to sunrise.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. And yes, I got some great coffee.
The job sucks, but they pay pretty good and they don’t skimp on the

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benefits. Matter of fact, I buy some really expensive coffee from the
Kona coast and they never question me about it.”
The guard kept babbling on nervously as they walked slowly across
the road. He placed his hand on a scanner by the gate, which opened
leisurely.
“I have to bring my car inside, otherwise someone might question
it.”
“Are there security cameras?”
“They don’t need any. They got some nasty ass weapons on the
rooftop that can pulverize anyone who breaks in here. They deactivate
themselves once an authorized person accesses the premises, but can be
reactivated from inside. They also activate if anyone tries to climb the
fence.”
“Go ahead and drive your car inside.”
With Lucas in the passenger seat, the guard drove through the gate,
which immediately closed behind them. With Lucas still holding a gun
on him, the guard walked up to the door and placed his hand on another
scanner. The door gave a barely audible click and hissed open.
They walked into a room that, while lacking in décor, certainly
appeared comfortable enough. There was a complete kitchen with a
full-size refrigerator, stove and sink. In the corner was a comfortable
looking couch and in front of a large window sat a desk with a modern
ergonomic chair and an array of surveillance monitors.
“So, if there are no cameras, what are those monitors for?” Lucas
asked, warily.
“I thought you were asking about cameras outside,” the guard
responded, the nervousness returning to his voice. “These are for the
inside of the facility.”
“By inside you mean—?”
“The underground tunnels. The ones that…” his voice trailed off.
“That what?”
“Hey, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I could lose my job, or
worse.”
“Right now, I am the ‘worse.’ So, losing your job should be the
least of your worries.”
“Look, you don’t understand. I know you have a gun and all and
can kill me. I get that. But the people I work for, they’re—let’s just say

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that I’ve heard rumors of what happens to employees who betray their
confidence. Dying is the least of my worries.”
Inwardly, Lucas frowned. He could practically sense the fear rolling
off the guard and hear it in his voice. Far more fear than seemed
natural, even for someone being held at gunpoint.
“Who do you work for anyway?”
“To be honest, I’m not exactly sure. My paycheck comes from a
company called CB&S Accounting. I was hired by a woman who
comes by occasionally to check on things. Man, she gives me the
willies. Sometimes when she looks at me with those cold dark eyes, I
could swear she’s eyeing me the same way a cat looks at a small
mouse. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it.”
“Doesn’t seem like she cares for you much, so why did she hire
you?”
“Don’t know. I worked as a guard at the Cosm. One day, she strolls
in like she owns the place, walks right up to me and says: ‘You’re
coming to work for me.’ Then she hands me five solid gold coins and
tells me that it’s my signing bonus. That, and the fact that she made it
pretty obvious that saying no was not an option, and well, here I am.”
“Interesting. And all you do every day is come in here, make
yourself some coffee and stare at those monitors?”
“Pretty much. Hey, speaking of coffee, what do you say we make
some?”
“You go ahead and do that. Do you have anything to eat?”
“Yeah! I’m fully stocked. Like I said, they don’t bother me much
about what I get for provisions. If you’ll, um, stop pointing that gun at
me, I’ll fix us something. Left the house a little late this morning, and
then wouldn’t you know it, there was a nasty wreck on the mag-lev 15i,
which made me even more late. Anyway, didn’t eat at home and didn’t
have time to pick anything up. Wife tells me I’m a pretty good cook.”
The guard continued to ramble on as he moved toward the kitchen,
and Lucas tucked the gun in his belt and sat down in front of the
surveillance monitors. They all seemed to show images of different
angles of the same tunnel. On closer inspection though, he realized that
there were at least two different tunnels. One of the tunnels was
smoothed into a makeshift road, while the other appeared to be just
dirt. This just keeps getting more and more bizarre, Lucas thought.

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Uncover one secret, and it reveals a dozen more.

He was still staring at the monitor when the guard walked up
quietly behind him and set something down on the table.
Immediately, Lucas did a sideways roll off the chair, once again
ignoring the scream of pain from his body and came up crouching on
one knee, his gun pointed squarely at the guard’s head.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the man yelled. “I was just bringing you the
first aid kit, man!”
“Do not sneak up on me ever. Now go check on the bacon. I think
it’s burning.”
“Sorry, sorry, I just walk quietly. Comes in handy when you got
kids. But jeez you’re freaking trigger-happy. Who are you anyway?
Some kind of Navy Seal or something?”
“Like I said, go tend to the bacon.”
“All right, all right! Sure hope you lighten up after some coffee,”
the guard grumbled as he walked away.
By the time Lucas finished cleaning his various cuts and bruises,
the guard had finished cooking. He brought Lucas a full plate of bacon,
eggs, and hash browns, along with a cup of steaming black coffee.
Despite his continued misgivings about this place, Lucas had to admit
that the guy’s cooking was first-rate. “If this gig as a guard doesn’t pan
out, you have a future as a chef,” Lucas told him as he chewed.
The guard looked at Lucas, searching for sarcasm. He found none.
“Thanks. It was always my dream.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Life.”
“Right, I’ve been there,” Lucas said wearily. “Well, don’t give up
on your dreams. Anyway, thanks for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome. Now, do you mind telling me who you are and
what you want?”
“My name is Philip Lucas. I’m a major in the United States Air
Force, but I’m currently on special assignment, which is the reason I’m
here. As to specifically what I’m doing, I’m not sure yet. But I can tell
you one thing—until I know exactly who you are and what side you’re
on, that’s about all I’m willing to share.”
“Hey, I cooked you a pretty good breakfast, doesn’t that count for
something?”

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“Yes. It gets you two brownie points. Ninety-eight more and we can
be friends. In the meantime, I have to figure a few things out.”
“Like what? Can I help?”
“Like you for instance,” Lucas said, giving the guard a hard look.
He didn’t want the guy getting too complacent.
“What you mean?”
“I mean, look at this place. This setup, those tunnels. We’re talking
serious money. No offense, but why hire you?”
“None taken, I guess,” the man replied, looking offended
nevertheless.
“I mean look,” Lucas continued, “there are some serious bad-ass
former military types running around out there. With the defense cuts
over the last couple of decades, there are literally thousands of special
ops and similar types who would be perfect for this job. I guarantee you
I wouldn’t have gotten the drop on one of them like I did on you.”
“Thanks,” the guard said, giving him the side-eye.
“Like I said, no offense, but by your own admission this isn’t your
first career choice. So, for a high tech, high security, apparently ultra-
secret facility—why hire a cook instead of a trained killer?”
“I’ve had training.”
“I’m sure you have. I have friends who have pilot’s licenses for
single engine aircraft. That doesn’t mean they can fly combat jets.”
The guard huffed. “What’s your point?”
“Don’t you ever wonder what goes on here? Have you ever
explored those tunnels?”
“No.”
Bingo. Lucas thought.
“That’s why they hired you. It wasn’t random; these people studied
you. They knew exactly who you were and what they were getting—
someone who did as he was told, no questions asked.”
“Isn’t that what those special ops guys are supposed to do?”
“While they’re in the military, maybe,” Major Lucas said with a
shrug. “But in here, doing nothing for eight hours a day? They’d be
going ape-shit trying to figure out what’s going on. So—right, I just
realized I don’t know your name.”
“Wayne. Wayne Teggs.”
“So, Wayne, what’s going on here?”

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“I don’t ask questions and I don’t want to know what’s going on

here. You want to know why?”
“Hmmm, let me think. Because you’re not the type who asks
questions?” Lucas asked, affecting an innocent look.
“That’s partially right, although I’m not totally without curiosity.
The main reason is that these people, whoever they are, are not the type
of people you want to mess with.”
“Yes, you mentioned Ms. Creepy. But what has she done
specifically that has you all spooked, other than her feline
mannerisms?”
“Like I said, they treat me pretty well here. I get six weeks
vacation, weekends off, sick time, and so on. For the times I’m not
here, they have a couple of guys that fill in. About a year ago they got
some new guy to come in on the weekends. I trained him myself, and
he seemed to take to the job okay. One day he starts asking me about
what I think goes on in those tunnels. I told him it was none of his
business and if he wanted to keep his job, he should mind his own and
stay out of the tunnels. I didn’t see him again after his training ended. I
just figured he was working weekends and keeping out of trouble. Well,
one day I’m watching the news—iTube, not that commercial TV
crap— and there’s this story about a guy that was found murdered in
the middle of the desert. It was the same guy.”
“You think they killed him just for asking questions? Pretty cold.”
“That wasn’t the worst of it. If that was all, I would have just
written it off as some weird coincidence. But a few days later I get this
video attachment in an anonymous iMail. It was the video of the actual
murder.”
“What? Come on. You mean someone filmed the murder and sent it
to you? Like a warning?”
“That’s what I figured. You see, it wasn’t the murder itself, it was
the method that scared the crap out me. They took this poor bastard out
to the middle of the desert and staked him out spread-eagle on the
ground. They used some extra-long stakes, like the ones they use out at
Lake Mead to moor those big houseboats. They just drove them right
through this guy’s hands and feet. All of this they showed without
sound on the video. Then they cut a slit in his belly, not deep enough or
long enough to kill him, just enough to partially expose his innards.

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Then they turned on the sound and left. I could hear his moaning and
see him struggle as he tried to free himself. Soon the night critters
showed up and started in on him. I turned it off then, but not quick
enough to drown out his screams. Occasionally I still wake up in a cold
sweat with his screams ringing in my ears.”
“Evil,” Lucas murmured under his breath.
“To say the least. So, anyway, when you pulled the gun on me this
morning, it wasn’t the gun that frightened me. Heck, a bullet to the
head and it’s over. See you in hell, right? I got life insurance—my
family will be taken care of. What was going through my mind was
suffering the same fate that befell that poor bastard. No one deserves
that.”
“Oh, I can think of some people who do.”
“Yeah, well, okay. Maybe them.”
“Heh, I guess I owe you an apology. At the time I thought you were
one of them.”
“I guess I am, in a way.”
“Really?” Lucas asked. “Would you have done to me what they did
to your pal?”
“No!”
“Then, you’re not one of them.”
“Thanks,” Wayne said, dropping his gaze. “And for the record, no
hard feelings, about pulling the gun and all. I can understand how all
this must seem to a military type.”
They sat silently for a while.
“You know, you told me your name, but you still haven’t told me
why you’re here or what the Air Force has to do with any of this.”
“I guess I do owe you that much,” Lucas said. “If I tell you, will
you help me get into those tunnels?”
“Heck, I’ll help you even if you don’t tell me. I figure once they
find out I let someone in here I’m as good as dead anyway, so I guess
today is as good a day to die as any.”
“I don’t think it will go that far. As soon as we get out of here, I’ll
make sure you and your family are well protected.”
“Fair enough. So, what are you doing here?”
“To be honest, I’m not a hundred percent sure. I’m trying to find
out if this place and the people you work for are involved in what

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happened last night.”

“You mean with the power outage?”
“Yes,” Lucas said with a nod. “But it was what caused the power
outage that has us interested.”
“And what is that?”
“Someone, and I suspect it was one of your bosses, detonated a
nuke.”
“Holy shit!” Wayne exclaimed.
“That,” Lucas replied dryly, “Is a mild understatement.”
“By nuke, I’m assuming you mean a bomb like the one that took
out KC?”
“Give or take a few megatons.”
Wayne suddenly got up and started pacing. “It all makes sense now.
I knew that whatever was going on here wasn’t legit, but I just assumed
they were doing illegal mining or manufacturing some of those new
synthetic drugs they criminalized a few years back. But building
nukes—”
“Exactly what do you mean by it all makes sense now?” Major
Lucas asked sharply.
Wayne sat back down and rested his chin in his hands. “When I first
started here, ten years ago, there was a lot of heavy equipment, crates
and construction types that came in daily. After that, it was smaller
equipment and people I would classify as tech types. Then, for the last
couple of years, it was the lab coat guys that came in and out every
month. They would refer to each other as ‘doctor’. I’m pretty sure they
were the scientist type of doctors.”
“Did you ever talk to any of them?”
“Occasionally. Sometimes they would bring one of them down here
looking kind of sick. They would bring in a real doctor to treat him, he
would spend a day or two down here, sleeping on the couch. I would
talk to them a little bit, but never anything related to their work. Then,
they would go back up and stay up there until their monthly rotation.”
“You mean they worked there 24/7?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“So, every month they would bring in a new set of lab-coats?”
Lucas said, his eyes narrowed as he sifted through this new
information.

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“Yep.”
Lucas tapped the table. “That would make sense. They would have
had to rotate them out to protect them from overexposure to the
radiation. I’m guessing that the sick ones were accidentally exposed to
a little too much and needed treatment for radiation poisoning before
going back to work.”
“It also explains why the docs were never the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“The medical docs. The ones who came to treat the lab-coats—it
was never the same guy twice. After what I saw in that video, I shudder
to think the fate that befell them.”
Darkly, Lucas considered that. “What a lovely bunch. These people
are really starting to piss me off.”
Abruptly he stood up. “So Wayne, what do you say we go explore
those tunnels?”
They both knew it wasn’t really a question.
The two of them walked down a long corridor toward the back of
the building. The door at the end opened as soon as Wayne placed his
hand on the scanner. Beyond it lay a large room with high ceilings and
multiple garage style doors—each at least 20-by-30 feet wide. Opposite
those doors were two circular doors, one large and one small. Wayne
headed toward the larger of the two doors and placed his left eye
against an optical scanner. After a few seconds, the door slid open
silently. They walked onto a platform into a perfectly round tunnel
constructed out of some unidentifiable material. The floor was metallic
and curled up at the edges, apparently to accommodate some type of
vehicle.
“Any idea how far these go?” Lucas asked, already having a pretty
good idea as to the answer.
“I have no idea. All I know is that they run a mag-lev vehicle
through this one to transport equipment and personnel. Where it goes,
and how far, I couldn’t tell you.”
“I think I may know. Do we walk or do you know how to retrieve a
shuttle?”
Without answering, Wayne walked to a control panel on the wall
and punched in some numbers. The tunnel lit up like daylight. A few
hundred yards away it sloped upward. They heard a slight humming,

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accompanied by the sound and feel of rushing air and a shuttle

appeared where the tunnel turned upward, gradually slowing down
until it stopped at the platform in front of them.
The major looked at the oddly-shaped vehicle. It reminded him of a
stretched out, streamlined Ford Ranchero, like one he restored with his
father many years ago. Simple, but functional.
“All right Wayne, let’s see where this thing takes us.”
The inside of the vehicle was equally simple; seats and a few
gauges. One displayed measurements in rads the other in something
called Sv. Lucas grabbed for his MiPhone to research the meaning of
Sv and realized with dismay that his phone holster was empty. So much
for calling the cavalry to the rescue. Oh well, he would call in once he
gathered some more intel.
“Ready major? Sit back and enjoy, I hear this is an e-ticket ride.”
“Wow. I haven’t heard that expression in a long time.”
“Yep, my kids love saying that when I take them to Disney-verse
and they ride those new retro rides that brought back the paper tickets.
Sometimes it seems like the old times are the best. Okay, here we go.”
As soon as the door closed, the shuttle started accelerating, slowly
at first, but within a few seconds the LED lights on the side of the
tunnel were speeding by in one continuous blur as the tunnel angled
upward. The major glanced at the gauges and noticed that the one that
measured Sv was rising rapidly. That might not be a good sign. Lucas
thought uneasily.
The shuttle came to stop at another platform in front of another
massive circular door. The Sv gauge was now issuing a shrill alarm as
it indicated the Sv count at 100mSv, whatever that meant, and rising.
“Wayne, I think if it’s all the same to you, we should be getting the
hell out of here. I think I’ve seen what I came to see.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Wayne responded as he pushed a button on
the control panel.
The shuttle reversed slowly and was soon moving backwards at a
head spinning speed.
“Well that was fun,” Wayne said as he closed his eyes and leaned
back against the headrest.
“Yes it was; informative as well. I believe we may have found
ground zero for last night’s events,” Lucas mused.

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“I’ll say. Judging from those readings, we’re lucky we’re not
glowing bright green.”
“Wait until you turn off the lights,” the major said with a wry grin.
“Good point.”
“You know what I don’t understand?”
“What’s that?” Wayne said, his eyes half-closed.
“Why are you still alive?”
Wayne’s eyes opened wide. “Come again?”
“Doesn’t seem to me that whoever is behind all of this would be the
kind of people to leave loose ends. Judging from the readings we got at
the end of the tunnel, I don’t believe they’ll be using this facility again.
That being the case—why are you still here and breathing? You, my
friend, are a loose end.”
“Maybe they just forgot about me,” Wayne suggested breezily,
although his face had gone ashen.
“Yeah, maybe,” Lucas said, without much conviction.
“What now?”
Lucas closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m not sure. Above my pay
grade. Let’s get out of here and I’ll turn this whole mess over to my
superiors. I’m sure they’re wondering about my well-being by now.”
“You think I should come with you?”
“I guarantee you that staying here will not be conducive to your
continued good health, Wayne. Besides, I need transportation. You saw
that my car is somewhat deficient. Let’s go get me patched up and find
out about getting you some protection.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They hurried down the platform toward the access panel. Wayne
placed his eye against the scanner and the giant door slid open.
Two men stood waiting for them. They lifted their weapons and
opened fire.
Lucas dove to his left, simultaneously rolling and grabbing his gun
from his belt just as the dual shotguns discharged, sending a deafening
roar echoing up the tunnel.
The fact that Wayne still had his face to the scanner saved his life.
Most of the double-aught pellets from the first shotgun slammed
harmlessly into the thick concrete wall next to Wayne’s head. Two of
the pellets tore into his shoulder, spinning him sideways. The shotgun

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shell intended for the major also missed—mostly. As Lucas rolled

forward, his right leg came up and a couple of the pellets intended for
his chest tore through his calf instead. Ignoring the pain, he finished his
roll. With his left leg kneeling and his painful right leg firmly planted
on the floor, he completed the movement of retrieving the gun from his
belt. He thumbed the safety all the way down to full auto. Without
aiming, he emptied the 20 rounds from the Glock 9F in the general
direction of the men. Only four rounds found their targets, but they
were more than enough. One of the high-speed incendiary rounds
ripped straight through the heart of the first gunman, instantly turning it
to charcoal. Two other rounds penetrated the chest of the second, doing
similar damage to his lungs—they were both dead before they hit the
ground.
Wayne came running down the ramp, pressing a hand to his injured
shoulder. The major limped over to the would-be assassins to make
sure they were no longer a threat. He grabbed their guns, just in case,
and turned to Teggs.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so. You?”
“I’ve been better, but I think I’ll live. Let’s get out of here and get
ourselves to a hospital. I think we’ve worn out our welcome.”

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Central Africa 33,300 BC

His thoughts drifted back to the present as soft footsteps rustled the
grass behind him.
“Fa?” Drevis asked softly. “Ma is awake.”
“Thank you,” Nwarht replied. “The hunting party should be ready
to depart. Go and join them.”
“Yes, Fa.”
Nwarht watched him walk back down the hill, then turned and
followed the trail toward the camp. All around the camp the clan was
hard at work cleaning and cooking. Nwarht ignored them and ducked
into the hut at the far end. A small fire burned inside, reflecting off the
walls, sending sparkling shadows throughout the hut.
Idre lay on a bed of animal skins, her eyes illuminated in the
flames. She tried to push herself up as Nwarht came in, but it was
clearly too much for her and she fell back.
“Don’t,” Nwarht said, kneeling by her side. “You’ll strain
yourself.”
Idre tried to speak, but all she could do was cough.
Nwarht took her hands, hot as embers, squeezed gently, and looked
into her vibrant green eyes. He could see that the light in those eyes
was rapidly dimming. It did not seem right that they had survived
attacks from all kinds of beasts on land and sea. Survived the wrath of
the planet itself—fires, floods, earth shakes, sky lights, and liquid
fire—and now his beautiful wife was going to be taken away from him
by the internal fire caused by a scratch from the spear of one of those
vile creatures. Once she was gone, he was not sure he would want to
continue. There seemed no point.
“My love,” she whispered softly. “I can see the look of despair in
your eyes. But you must be strong and thrive, for the sake of our
children.”
“They are young and strong. They will thrive and do well without
me. I am old.”

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“They need you, Nwarht. You have much to teach them. And in
case you haven’t noticed, you have not aged. Not like I have. There is
something special about you, and the gods have a plan for you that
transcends my existence. So, be strong! Be strong for our children, be
strong and live, for as long as you live, so will your memory of me.”
Reaching up, she pulled the stone charm on her necklace free and
placed it in his hands.
He felt tears building up at the corners of his eyes and turned away
so Idre would not see his moment of weakness. She didn’t have to see
it. She reached up and gently wiped the tears that were streaming down
his face. Her hand fell back down to her side, and she closed her eyes
for the last time.
The cry that echoed through the encampment was not entirely
human. It was something wrought from the depths of a sorrow so
profound that the sound went straight through the souls of everyone
who heard it. The thing that emerged from the tent with his mate
cradled limply in his arms was not human. He was something primeval,
savage and full of rage. The look in his red-veined eyes left very little
doubt that someone, or something, was going to pay for this outrage.

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 Chapter 18
University of Nevada-Las Vegas: Paradise, Nevada
Sunday, September 16th, 2046

The rising sun sent beams of light through the windows of the
student union building, illuminating the pages of the open book lying
on the table.
Jessica slowly blinked the sleep from her eyes as she stretched,
looking around the room. Except for her, it was empty. Bryce had left at
about 2:30 to go sleep in the car, after spending half the night twitching
and generally looking more disturbed than he usually did. She could
see he wanted to tell her something, but didn’t volunteer any
information and she wasn’t interested in pressing him for whatever it
was that was bothering him.
Yawning, Jessica picked the book off the table. She stood up and
glanced at her watch—6:23. About four hours of sleep—two hours
longer than she normally got. No wonder she felt so refreshed.
She started walking toward the exit, grimacing as she did so. She
hadn’t showered since yesterday morning and she was pretty sure it
was obvious. Hopefully no one would walk to close to her. She really
needed to start carrying perfume with her.
As Jessica neared the parking lot, steering clear of the few students
wandering the campus on a Sunday, her phone rang. Digging it out of
her pocket, Jessica glanced at the picture on the screen. For a second,
she was almost too surprised to answer. Shaking her head, she hit the
answer button.
“Hi Dad, how’s it going?”

:
Something was crawling across his chest. He brushed it off. The
cockroach scuttled away through a film of grime.
Alarmed, he scrambled to his feet. Everything seemed to be moving

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in slow motion. He was in an old factory building, long abandoned.

Bryce.
He spun around. Everything was shrouded in red mist, like blood. It
was hard to breath.
Bryce.
“Who are you?” he called out, although it felt like his mouth wasn’t
working right.
A figure materialized from the mist. It was a young man, wearing a
white hoodie with black leather pants and brown military boots. His
long black hair fell into brilliant blue eyes. In one hand, he held a knife
and in the other, an antique camera. He looked about eighteen or
nineteen, though his haunted features were those of a much older man.
“Hello, Bryce,” he said, his voice rough and scratchy, as though he
hadn’t used it in a long time. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Bryce blinked. “Who are you?” he repeated, his mouth feeling like
it was full of cotton.
“Just a messenger,” the boy said. “The world that you know is
careening toward ruination. Whether you have the will to survive—and
to save it, that has yet to be determined.”
“Ruination? From what?”
“An infinite number of things. But the greatest threat looms just
over the horizon. There are those who seek to control the future, and it
leads them down a dark path.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What are you talking about? Why are you telling
me this?”
The boy tilted his head to the side. “Why indeed?”
A sickening moan cut through the air. The red mist thickened,
swallowing the boy. Bryce stumbled and suddenly he was falling
though the floor of the factory.
Slowly another picture formed. He was standing on a freeway with
cars speeding by him. In the distance, the towering skyscrapers of a
city rose.
It was such a normal looking scene. And yet, something felt wrong.
The explosion ripped through the air without any warning. A shock
wave of air blasted cars off the highway with the force of a tsunami, as
a massive mushroom cloud rose into the air. Bryce pressed his hands
into his eyes, momentarily stunned by flash blindness. When his vision

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returned, everything in sight burned and smoldered in a dull, orange

fire. The cars and buildings in every direction had been reduced to
twisted hunks of metal. Ash and dust choked the air.
“See?”
Bryce turned. The boy was standing behind him, his eyes awash in
the red glow of the flames. “This is how it began. How it ends—well, I
suppose that’s up to you now.”
Bryce’s vision seemed to implode and then shattered into a million
shards of red glass.
Everything went black.

:
Someone was shaking his shoulder. With a startled yell, he sat bolt
upright and immediately whacked his head on the roof of the car.
“Good morning,” Jessica said, sitting down in the driver’s seat and
turning the key in the ignition. “Have a good night’s sleep?”
“No,” Bryce grumbled, rubbing his head. “I had a really weird
dream.”
“Hmm, I’m sorry,” she said absently, putting the car in gear and
pulling out of their parking space. “Well, you can sleep on the way.”
“The way you drive?” he muttered. “Not likely.”
“Jeez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” Jessica said,
mimicking Bryce’s customary breezy sarcasm.
“Well, considering I didn’t have a bed to sleep on last night—”
“If you had just gone back to your hotel like I told you to, then you
wouldn’t have had that problem.”
“And left you here by yourself?” Bryce asked, shaking his head.
“Hardly.”
“You left anyway!”
“Well, that’s not the point!”
After an awkward silence, Jessica said slowly. “What’s bothering
you?”
Bryce glanced at her. “What makes you think something’s
bothering me?”
“Um, I know you Costa. So come on, what is it?”

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He hesitated a long time before speaking. “Okay look, say that you
found out about something bad. Like, um, really, really bad. What
would you do?”
She frowned. “Well, depends on what it was. I mean, family issues
bad, or someone’s lost cocaine shipment bad—?”
“Like…end of the world bad.”
Jessica was silent for a moment. “You’re sober, right?”
“Yes! I’m being for reals right now Jessica.”
“Look Costa, for the sake of argument, let’s say I found out the
world really was coming to an end, if there was nothing I could do
about it I would just try to enjoy and appreciate whatever time I had
left.”
Jessica glanced at him. “Did that answer your question?”
That didn’t freaking help in the slightest. He forced a smile. “Yep.
Totally.”
For a few minutes, Bryce watched the scenery pass by outside,
thinking. As the skyline of the Vegas strip appeared in the distance, he
turned to Jessica. “Well, it was fun Jess. But, I kinda want to be
heading out, so just drop me off at the Luxor.”
She glanced at him in surprise. “You’re not staying the rest of the
weekend?”
“Er, no. I have a report due this week I have to work on. So, I really
need to get going.”
She shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
They pulled up to the front of the Luxor. Bryce climbed out of the
car, waved goodbye and walked into the lobby.
Jessica frowned thoughtfully. “Report due? Since when do you do
homework Costa? What is going on with you lately?”
Clicking her tongue, Jessica pulled away from the Luxor and
headed toward Caesar’s Palace.

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The pilot tapped his fingers against the display case, multiple
thoughts coursing through his mind. The data wafer he had come for
wasn’t here. He should have gone with his instinct and killed the two
students when they first walked in on him, even though such a messy
scenario could have complicated his life unnecessarily.
There had been something about the girl he found intriguing and for
that reason alone he had spared them. It had been a long time, a very
long time, since a woman had interested him.
Even if the woman did prove too interesting to eliminate, the
obnoxious male was not. He had found the data wafer, the clumsy cut
in the inside of the book made that quite obvious. But how could he
have possibly known? Chance, bad luck, fate perhaps? The pilot had
cheated death, bad luck and fate for so long that he had to wonder when
it would all catch up to him. Would fate laugh in his face now, when his
revenge was so near?
It did not matter. If he failed, he failed, but he wasn’t going to stop
now. He clicked his MiWatch.
“Osaka, I have a job for you,” he spoke into the phone before there
was time for a simple ‘hello’”.
“I’m fine boss, thanks for asking,” a female voice responded, soft
and liltingly seductive. “And how are we doing today?”
Without bothering to acknowledge the response, he clicked his
watch again. “His name is Bryce Costa and he has something that
belongs to me. Get it. If he resists, terminate him.”
“What is it exactly that I’m supposed to retrieve?”
“It’s all in the file I just sent you. And Osaka?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Do not push me—you can be replaced you know.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me, you love me too mu—”
With a flick of his hand, the pilot terminated the connection.
Turning, he strode from the library out into the morning sunlight. With
the annoying male now as good as dead, he had other things to turn his
attention to.

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And right now, time was of the essence.

:
The line went dead, and with an irritated hiss, Osaka returned her
phone to her purse.
“Rude bastard,” she muttered to herself. She might be a cold-
blooded killer herself, with a taste for human flesh, but at least she had
good manners. The guy might as well be a Neanderthal—all the finesse
and etiquette of a thug. Oh well, I have a job to do, so let’s see what’s
on the menu.
She walked to the nearest McCafé and ordered one of her current
favorites—a caffeine concoction made with Kopi Luwak coffee beans.
She sat down at one of the sidewalk café tables and took a sip. She
closed her eyes and savored the coffee before letting it go down her
throat. The fact that the very rare and expensive coffee was made with
beans that came out of some rodent’s butt, made it taste that much
better. She put on her sunglasses, linked them to her phone and started
reading the file the boss had sent.
She looked at the image of Bryce Costa and subconsciously licked
her lips. Not bad, not bad at all. Too bad he would probably be dead by
the end of the day. She scanned the rest of the file, including her
compensation for the job and wondered why the pay was so high—this
appeared to be a straightforward recovery. Maybe this Bryce Costa was
more of a talent than his skinny frame indicated. She had little doubt
that she could handle him by herself, still, why take chances? She
would call some of her extra muscle as cheap insurance.
She sat for a few more minutes enjoying her coffee and doing some
research on Bryce Costa. Seemed like your generic rich college frat
boy—long on looks, short on brains, too much partying, not enough
ambition. She finished off her coffee in one big gulp, took off her
glasses, and headed off down the street. Before she had finished her
coffee, she had already decided that she was going to kill him herself.
With any luck, she could take her time and do it slowly, inflicting as
much pain as possible. A smile that was pure evil and not entirely
human, crossed her face as she strode purposefully down the sidewalk.

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 Chapter 20
Egypt: 31 BC

Nwarht stumbled through the streets of Alexandria, clutching his

side. Blood oozed through his fingers, dripping onto the ground,
leaving a red trail behind him.
He snarled in pain and anger. In one day, everything changed.
Cleopatra and Antony were dead, the victims of Cleopatra’s last foolish
attempt to stand against Rome. Octavius’s men had slaughtered the
queen’s court and imposed their forces on the subjects of the Ptolemaic
Kingdom. Now Egypt was about to be annexed by Rome and its proud
legacy all but blotted from the pages of history. His home for the last
three centuries—obliterated in a bloodbath born of poor leadership and
bad decisions.
The most infuriating part was that he could have defeated them. He
had within his mind a nebulous knowledge of weapons and technology
that would have destroyed Rome in the blink of an eye. He could have
saved Egypt. But this world didn’t possess the technological know-how
to manufacture those weapons. So, he stood by and placed his faith in
others, and they had failed him. He had barely escaped Octavius’s men
himself when they stormed the palace, killing everyone in sight.
Wounded by a spear thrust, he had barely managed to make it to
Alexandria.
The one thing he should have never, ever done; the one thing that
should have been obvious to him—was to place his trust in others. If he
was going to continue to survive in this world, he would have to take
matters into his own hands.
The only one who can be depended on is oneself.
He felt like someone had ingrained that in him long ago. It was one
of those dreamlike intuitive sensations that came to his mind every
occasionally. Abstract ideas, concepts, fragments of memories; things
he felt like he should know, but that slipped out of his reach when he
tried to grab them.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, Nwarht winced and almost

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doubled over as a sharp pain from his wound stabbed through his
senses. He clutched his side tighter as one of those fragments flashed
through his mind.
He was standing in a blasted landscape, back to back with several
others, firing weapons frantically at an army of creatures. He shouted a
command, and then something grabbed him from behind, lifted him
high into the air, then hurled him toward the ground far below.
Nwarht blinked, and the image vanished. At any other time, he
would have tried to make sense of what he had just seen. But right now,
he had bigger problems.
Behind him, someone shouted, “There!”
Nwarht glanced over his shoulder. Five of Octavius’s soldiers had
just rounded the corner at the end of the street.
A centurion drew his sword, yelling. “Get him!”
Gritting his teeth, Nwarht began to run, knocking peasants and
farmers out of the way as he charged down the street.
Ahead of him, the Pharos Lighthouse rose above the other
buildings. The trading ship docks surrounding the lighthouse were
Nwarht’s sole focus. He had to get away from this place. Halfway
across the Heptastadion causeway that linked the ports to the island of
Pharos, he felt ancient battle instincts kick in. He heeded the inner
warning and dove to the ground, barely avoiding the centurion’s sword
as it sliced the air where his head had been a moment before.
The centurion was momentarily thrown off-balance, and before he
could compensate Nwarht slammed his foot into the man’s calf from
the side, bringing the centurion down. As the man struggled to push
himself back up, encumbered by his heavy armor, Nwarht grabbed his
sword and with a single swing, decapitated the soldier. He pivoted with
the bloody sword raised just in time to block a swing from an attacking
legionary. Three others were rapidly closing in on him.
Another soldier lunged, his sword swinging. Nwarht stepped inside
the strike and stabbed his attacker in the arm, causing the man to drop
his sword. As the man swung blindly at him with his good side, Nwarht
grabbed his arm and threw him over the edge of the causeway down to
the sea below.
Trying to ignore the pain radiating up his torso, Nwarht began
running again, the sword tucked at his side. Near the base of the

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lighthouse, one of the trade ships was being prepared to sail for Europe.
Stumbling off the causeway and across the threshold of Pharos Island,
Nwarht ran toward the ship.
“Osiris!”
The voice boomed out from above him. From around either side of
the lighthouse, a cohort of Roman soldiers appeared. Octavius himself
stood atop the wall that surrounded the perimeter of the lighthouse. He
was flanked by two bowmen, each with an arrow pointed at Nwarht.
Nwarht stopped, still yards from the ship that had started moving
slowly along the dock as though trying to sneak away from the
confrontation. He glared up at Octavius.
“In reality, I intensely dislike that name.”
Octavius raised his eyebrows. “But why? For that is what your
fellow Egyptians called you, is it not? Lord of the dead. The one who
rules the underworld. The immortal.”
He narrowed his eyes before adding, “The one who was resurrected
from the grave.”
Nwarht cursed under his breath. He should have realized that his
longevity would attract attention someday.
Another stupid oversight on my part.
Octavius held up his hands. “Not to worry. I have no intention of
killing you...yet. My plan to annex Egypt is almost complete. Now, I’ll
put my last intention to action.”
Realization dawned on Nwarht’s face. “Me.”
The soldiers drew their swords. “Indeed.” Octavius said with a thin
smile. “You see, for many years there were rumors of a man who lived
in Egypt and who had lived there since the dawn of time. It was said
that he ruled over the dead, and that any who found his favor would
control souls in the afterlife. I made it my goal to find him. And now,
here you are.”
Octavius stepped forward. “Once I have you in my custody, I will
uncover just what it is that makes you immortal. And I swear by the
gods I will use that knowledge to ensure that my empire never falls.”
Nwarht sneered in contempt. “You’re a fool. Whatever made me
what I am is far beyond your simple-minded understanding. And if you
seriously believe that your empire can survive even half my lifetime,
you are sadly disillusioned. Rome will fall before you can even come

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close to understanding the secret of immortality.”

Octavius smiled coldly. “We shall see.” He gestured at his men
gathered below. “Seize him.”
As the cohort surged forward, Nwarht turned and slashed his sword
through the binding rope of one of the mobile dock cranes. The crate
hanging above the dock suddenly plunged down to earth. It smashed
onto the pier, crushing several soldiers and dumping a mass of weapons
onto the dock, blocking the way of the legionnaires for a few moments.
Nwarht turned and ran for the end of the dock. An arrow impaled him
in the calf, while another pierced his shoulder. He ignored the pain and
kept running.
Pushing off with his good leg, Nwarht jumped toward the moving
ship.
He landed painfully and lay there on the deck for a few minutes
until the lights stopped going off in his eyes. Pushing himself up, he
saw Octavius bellowing orders from the Pharos wall as his entire
cohort crowded onto the dock. He had to smile. He had made it. The
Romans would never be able to get their warships, wherever they were,
to reach Alexandria in time. By the time they could give pursuit,
Nwarht would be long gone.
He turned around. The entire crew was staring at him. Nwarht
began to formulate a plan to convince them to let him stay onboard as
the small trade ship picked up speed as it sailed toward Europe.

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 Chapter 21
Victoria Gardens: Rancho Cucamonga, California

Victoria Gardens hadn’t changed much in 30 some odd years.

While most other shopping centers had been torn down or fully
renovated, the Gardens had remained more or less the same. It still
maintained the pedestrian-oriented, mixed-use town look as when it
first opened in the early 2000s. Even its stores hadn’t changed much;
they simply got a little bigger and more modern.
The most prominent storefront change was the Mi Store. Over the
years, Mi Store Victoria Gardens had become one of the highest yield
stores in California. As such, it had undergone a massive upgrade and
renovation and was now the second largest in the world—only the Mi
Store in Shanghai was larger.
An avid gadgets guy, Bryce had always liked Mi Stores—mostly
for their sleek, futuristic look. He also greatly admired the founder,
Steve Cohen, after reading his biography. The original Mi products
Cohen had created greatly fascinated Bryce and he had spent more than
he cared to admit buying those first-generation Mi computers and other
gadgets on online auctions at highly inflated prices.
At this moment, however, the only thing on Bryce’s mind was
getting the data on his wrist phone transferred. After the creepy dream
last night, and his unsuccessful chat with Jessica, he wasn’t feeling
particularly lucky. For all he knew, the data wafer was booby trapped
and rigged to explode after delivering its data.
He could have gone to the Mi store in Vegas, but he wanted to get
as far away from that place as possible. One of the workers directed
him to the second-floor Erudition Bar, much to his displeasure. The
Erudition Bar was the one thing in Mi Stores that he despised, mostly
for the name, which basically proclaimed of its staff, “I know all about
the latest gadgets and you don’t…so there”. Under ordinary
circumstances, he probably could have easily transferred and wiped the
data himself. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t that familiar with the
MiWatch and had grudgingly decided that in this case he probably

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should let the “Erus” handle it. He paid almost $800 for the thing and
had no desire to break it while tinkering with it.
The Eru Bar, as it had become to be known, stretched almost all the
way across the second-floor wall with about 15 Erus behind it, all
helping customers with various devices. Another worker showed Bryce
to the Eru on the far left. The Eru, whose nametag identified him as
Jerry, listened patiently while Bryce told him his sob story about the
data wafer. When Bryce was finished, the guy stood up slowly with a
bored expression and stretched lazily. “So, all you want is the data
wiped? That’s simple.”
“Um, yes,” Bryce said, trying not to sound as irritated as he felt.
“But I still want the data, just not on my device. It takes up way too
much memory. But I don’t have anything with the capacity. So, if I
could buy what you transfer it on, something cheap, I would appreciate
it.”
“Yeah, that’s still easy. Give me ten minutes.” Without waiting for a
reply, he took Bryce’s watch and went into one of back rooms.
“Yeah, that’s still easy,” Bryce mimicked irritably. “I hate Erus.”
With a sigh, he began browsing through some of the random items
on the nearby wall. He had been meaning to buy some new wireless
pod phones that went inside the ear canal and created some
unbelievable sound. He figured as long as he was here he might as well
look. He’d won some money in Vegas so he might as well put it to
good use.
He picked up a likely item, and then almost had a coronary when he
saw the price tag. “Five-hundred for some lousy earpieces? Yeah, in
what universe Mi?” Shaking his head, he bent down to put the box
back on the shelf.
As he stood up, he accidentally knocked a row of MiPad cases off
their shelf. Cursing, he scooped them up, trying not to look like a
complete idiot. Thankfully, there was barely anyone on the second floor
apart from the customers at the bar, and they weren’t likely to notice.
Before he could put them back, something on the very bottom shelf
caught his eye. Buried all the way against the wall behind a mass of
charger cords, was a thin black box. It had no markings that he could
see. Frowning, he dumped the MiPad cases on the floor and bent down
to dig the box out. Standing up, Bryce turned the box over, trying to

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figure out what it was. It was about MiPad size but a little bigger and
bulkier. Maybe a smart board or something like that, but that didn’t
seem right either.
“All right, you’re all set.”
Bryce looked over at the Eru Bar in surprise. Jerry the Eru was
standing by the counter, the watch and a thin data drive in his hand.
“Thank you,” Bryce said walking over to him, holding out the box.
“Um, do you mind telling me what this is?”
“Well, let me see,” Jerry said, nudging another genius out of the
way to get to one of the huge retina computer displays. “I’ll have to
scan it.”
What, genius? Don’t know what it is? Bryce thought, but he kept
his mouth shut.
“Interesting,” Jerry muttered, a look of surprise momentarily
flashing across his face. He pulled the box open and took out a circular
disc with a hole in the middle with what looked like a camera inside. To
Bryce, it looked like a giant silver donut.
“So,” he said, looking the donut over skeptically. “What is it?”
“A MiDiscus,” Jerry said, setting the thing down on the bar. “It’s a
flying RC camera.”
“Really?” Bryce said, his interest suddenly piqued. “How does it
work?”
“Watch,” Jerry said. Plucking a thin remote out of the box, he
stepped back and tapped the remote twice.
The donut made a soft whine, bucked a few times on the counter
then rose into the air.
“What!” Bryce exclaimed. The donut circled the store, dipping and
diving over the heads of customers, most of whom were too absorbed
in whatever device they were looking at to notice.
Jerry had the donut circle a few more times, then landed it smoothly
on the floor at Bryce’s feet, who picked it up as it powered down.
“All right,” Bryce said. “I will admit I’m impressed. Even if the
technology is a little dated.”
“Yeah it is,” Jerry agreed, setting the remote down on the counter.
“Were you interested?”
“Maybe,” Bryce said absently. “I wasn’t really looking to spend a
whole bunch of money though. I mean, it’s probably expensive.”

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“Well actually,” Jerry said, examining the box. “This model is

discontinued and this box was open so I think the store could give you
a discount. How does 199 sound?
“That’s—actually quite reasonable,” Bryce admitted, chewing his
lip thoughtfully. In the back of his mind, the logical part of his brain
said that he didn’t need to spend money on useless gadgets. The geek
part drowned out logic, blaring the command to buy it.
Bryce had always been fascinated by remote control devices. As a
child, his family had been relatively poor, but when he turned ten his
father bought him an antique RC helicopter from a local pawn store.
Bryce had instantly fallen in love with it. From then on, he’d been
obsessed with anything RC, even though it was a dying field of
recreation, with full immersion 3D having taken over.
“Aw, what the heck, sure,” he said. “Can my watch control it too?”
“Definitely,” Jerry said. “I would just need to sync them. So, you
want it?”
“Yep,” Bryce said. “Why not?”
“Then just give me a minute to process and sync it and you’ll be
good to go.”
Bryce nodded, his irritation gone. He wasn’t a big spender, so he
appreciated things when he bought them and he was now looking
forward to experimenting with his new donut flyer.
His sense of pleasure abruptly dissipated, replaced by the
realization that something was wrong.
The second story Eru Bar had glass floors and ceilings through
which you could see straight through to the floors below and above. It
was disorienting if heights weren’t your thing. Bryce happened to be
looking down at the first floor when the front doors slid open and a
woman walked in. What caught Bryce’s attention was the fact that the
woman was wearing a green body suit that looked as though it was
made of alligator skin, and bright red high heels that looked about as
comfortable as a couple of miniature Iron Maidens. Her eyes were
concealed behind dark sunglasses, her elbow crooked through the
handles of a designer handbag big enough to hide a corpse, or at least
part of one. Behind her came two hulking men with matching buzz
cuts, black leather jackets and sunglasses. If their ropy thick necks and
bowed arms were any indication, these guys had musculature that

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would make an Orc feel inadequate.

Immediately, an alarm went off in the back of Bryce’s mind.
Whoever these people were, he had a feeling they weren’t here for the
latest MiGadget. Bryce wasn’t normally paranoid by nature, but finding
plans for a nuclear Armageddon was enough to make anyone jumpy.
On top of that, his dream about the kid had rattled him in a way he
couldn’t describe.
Still, he chided himself. That was no reason to jump to conclusions
about these people. Maybe they just had eclectic taste in clothing.
He was about to turn away when the woman suddenly looked up
through the ceiling. Even though she was wearing glasses, Bryce
sensed she was looking right at him. Almost as quickly, she looked
away and started browsing through a section of expensive MiCycles
while the two men took up positions on either side of her.
Bryce took a deep breath. Okay, so maybe the woman was just
some celebrity come to buy Mi products and her bodyguards were there
in case she got mobbed by crazy fan-boys. It happened. Putting it out of
his mind, Bryce turned back to the Eru Bar where Jerry had finished
syncing the devices.
“You’re all set,” he said, handing Bryce his watch back. “All you
have to do is tap the MiDiscus icon and you’re off and running, or
should I say—flying,” the genius chuckled, obviously amused by his
own joke.
“Cool,” said Bryce, trying to keep the irritation from creeping back
into his voice. He tapped the watch lightly on his wrist. Immediately
the watch wrapped itself around his forearm. “All the data is off?”
“Yep. All on this now,” Jerry said, holding the data disc out.
The next second, there was a sharp pop and a slender needle lodged
itself in Jerry’s forehead. The genius had just a second to look
surprised. To Bryce’s horror, the man’s skin began blistering and
bubbling, reduced to waxy liquid as blood poured from his eyes, nose
and ears. Within seconds, he was gone, reduced to a disgusting pile of
sludge and a half-dissolved nametag that said JER. The data disc
clattered to the counter.
Bryce spun around as the entire Eru Bar, staff and customers, began
screaming and running for the exits in panic.
To his not-so-surprise, the woman in green and her two bodyguards

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were already on the second floor. The woman raised her arm and
pointed at him. On her wrist was a golden bracelet with thin barrels that
resembled the cylinder in a revolver. There was very little doubt in
Bryce’s mind as to the purpose of the bracelet.
“Bryce Costa,” she said, her voice cutting through the shrieks of
panicked geniuses. “Hand over the data wafer and its information. This
does not have to get messy.”
“It already has,” Bryce said, inching back against the bar. “You just
liquefied an innocent Eru.”
“Nobody is truly innocent,” the woman replied. “The data wafer,
please.”
“The data?” Bryce asked, putting on his best dumb face, though it
probably didn’t come out that way. “What data?”
“Idiot,” the woman hissed. She stepped closer and the bodyguards
followed. “I know all about you, my dear Bryce. You are interfering
with events you cannot control and do not have the courage to face.
Hand that device over and maybe I’ll let you live. Otherwise, you die
right now.”
That’s the second time today someone told me I was going to die,
Bryce mused. But this was no dream. Bryce had no doubt the woman
was quite real, and seconds away from rendering him as inert and
insubstantial as a block of over-microwaved Velveeta.
“You’re right,” he said aloud, mentally gauging the distance
between them. “I don’t have the courage. So…bye-bye.”
Grabbing his donut and data disk, he bolted for the stairs.
Whatever guardian angel watched over party-frat-boy-slackers was
looking out for him that day. He wouldn’t have made it halfway to the
stairs if a large screaming lady, holding several shopping bags, hadn’t
slammed into the two bodyguards who had moved to intercept him.
Shoes, clothes, MiPhones and Victoria’s no-longer-secret lingerie went
flying. Bryce made a clean break for the staircase.
Behind him he heard the woman bellowing orders to her
bodyguards as they charged after him, knocking over floor displays and
Erus. Obviously, they were not fans of Mi. Maybe the Tiri navigator
had given them wrong directions to get here. Whatever the case, Bryce
didn’t dare look back. He charged through the shoppers making a
panicked exodus for the door and raced past them, out the door and into

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the sunlight.
All around him, people were gathering to see what was going on—
the one constant of human beings is their fascination with the prospect
of unfolding catastrophe. Trying not to get mowed over, Bryce wove in
and out of the crowd.
Something zipped past his ear and an unfortunate onlooker began
melting.
“Bryce Costa!” the woman yelled from somewhere behind him, as a
new set of screams arose from the crowd. “You cannot escape!”
“Well I’m certainly going to try,” Bryce muttered to himself as he
dodged a baby stroller on the sidewalk.
He glanced over his shoulder. The trio of psychos were pushing
their way through the crowd, gaining ground on him. Distressingly, his
rental car was all the way on the other side of the mall. And even if he
could get to it, these three probably had some souped-up villain car that
shot rockets and grappling hooks. No, running away wasn’t the answer
here. He needed a plan to stop them.
Then it clicked.
“Light bulb!” Bryce shouted, sprinting in front of a crowd of
teenagers and through the doors of the nearest department store.
Thankfully, for a Sunday morning, the store was relatively empty.
Bryce ran past some surprised perfume saleswomen and a dude
offering free samples and boarded the escalator heading for the second
floor.
The doors of the entrance hissed open.
“There he is!” the woman yelled from the lobby. “Get him!”
Cursing, Bryce began climbing the escalator two stairs at a time. He
reached the top just as the trio reached the bottom of the escalator.
“Too slow!” Bryce shouted, kicking the “OFF” button on the
control panel with his foot. The escalator ground to a halt and the two
bodyguards almost fell over. Grinning to himself, Bryce ran for the
third-floor escalator while the woman kept screeching orders and
threats.
When he reached the third-floor—the home-goods sections—he
tossed his donut onto a bed and began dragging a floor display dresser
toward the escalator.
“Maybe I should have renewed that gym membership,” Bryce

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muttered as he strained to push the heavy dresser across the floor. He

reached the top of the escalator and looked down. The murderous
woman and her thugs were halfway up. The woman had lost her purse
and sunglasses. He saw her eyes widen with shock as she realized what
he was about to do.
With a yell of effort, Bryce tipped the dresser over, sending it
crashing down the steps. By all rights, the runaway dresser should have
taken them all out. But somehow, the woman managed to flip herself
over the side before the impromptu projectile reached her.
Her bodyguards weren’t so lucky. With a crash that probably
cracked the floor, the dresser sent them both back to the Men’s
Clothing department where they were down for the count
Bryce was about to congratulate himself, when he saw the woman
pull herself over the side, aim her bracelet, and fire one of the needles
at him. One of the dresser doors had come off in his hands as he had
pushed it down the escalator. He instinctively raised it in front of him.
He heard a light thud as the needle impaled itself in the door. Giving
him a look of pure hatred, she started climbing, although how she was
managing all this in high heels, Bryce had no idea.
Frantically, Bryce scrambled to the bed where he’d left his donut,
desperately slapping at his watch. Just as the woman reached the top
floor and aimed her weapon at him, the MiDiscus whirred to life and
shot across the room, catching her smack in the middle of the forehead.
It didn’t do much damage, but it still had enough momentum behind it
as it hit her while she was in mid-step on the last escalator step.
Together it was enough. The woman stumbled back, her bracelet firing
a needle straight up at the ceiling as she went down.
“Yes!” Bryce shouted, flicking his finger across his watch and
bringing the donut in for another pass.
The woman was on her feet already. This time it got the back of her
head. She didn’t go down unfortunately. Instead, in one quick motion
she grabbed a nasty looking gun from somewhere underneath her
bodysuit and in the same motion blasted the donut out of the air, much
to Bryce’s distress. He liked that thing.
Where the hell was she hiding that blaster? No, on second thought I
don’t really want to know.
He dove out of the way, as the woman continued firing at him,

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vaporizing several beds, three chandeliers, a dining room set, and two
very unlucky salespeople who had come to investigate the commotion.
What does she need bodyguards for? Bryce thought as he ducked
behind an armoire. This is a one-woman death squad.
The armoire abruptly vaporized, leaving him exposed and directly
in her line of fire.
Aw shit.
A simple shot from that blast thing and it would be all over. At least
he hoped so, the needles didn’t seem such a pleasant way to go.
“Now, Bryce Costa” she said, aiming her bracelet right between his
eyes. “I think it’s more than time for you to die.”
So, it was going to be the needle. Just my luck. He closed his eyes.
“On second thought,” he heard her say. “I don’t think I’m going to
kill you just yet. I think I’ll have some fun first.”
Bryce opened his eyes and looked right into a soulless face, and
dead eyes that were completely devoid of humanity. He realized he was
looking at pure evil—and she wanted to have some fun. Man, why
couldn’t she just have blasted me?
Wha—? What kind of fun?” he finally stammered.
Instead of a response, she pulled a stiletto from behind her. Where
the hell is she hiding these things? That body suit is skintight.
“First, I am going to stab out one of your eyeballs and make you eat
it.”
“I’m really not hungry,” he mumbled.
“OK. But I am. So, I’ll eat it.”
Just then, two huffing police officers appeared at the top of the
escalator. Thank god, he thought. Just in time. Saved from this
homicidal lunatic.
Barely even looking, she pointed the blaster behind her and fired
once, instantly vaporizing the hapless policemen. As their ashes drifted
to the floor, she turned and fired once again at the escalator, turning it
into a molten, twisted mess of metal, plastic and glass.
“Now Bryce,” she cooed in his ear. “Now we can have some
privacy. Where were we?”
“Well I was going home, and you were going to hell.”
Realizing he was still wearing the same pair of pants, in the couple
of seconds he had while she turned around, he reached into his pocket

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and pulled one of the vials full of silver-infused nano-bots.

“Goodbye, witch,” he whispered as he uncorked the vial and
jammed it into her partially opened mouth. She gasped at the
unexpected action, sucking thousands of bots into her sinus and lungs.
The results were almost instantaneous—and lethal. Just as in the lab,
the bots reacted to the change in moisture and exploded. The
explosions liquefied her upper bronchial tract and drove thousands of
pieces of bone and nasal cartilage into her brain.
She had an instant to attempt to make sense out of what had just
happened, before she dropped to the floor—quite dead.

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 Chapter 22
Mojave Desert: Outside Las Vegas, Nevada

“By ‘you,’ do you mean—?” JW asked, already knowing the

answer.
“Humans, Homo Sapiens, Mankind, whatever designation you wish
to use,” David clarified.
“But, you created them, I mean us, how exactly?”
“We modified the genetic code of a few volunteers. We made them
more aggressive, intelligent, prolific propagators, bigger, stronger—in
short, all the things we were not, but needed to be in order to fight this
perceived threat to our civilization.”
“It must have been a terribly difficult decision for these
volunteers.”
“My friend, I do not believe you can possibly fathom the incredible
emotional pain they must have endured.”
JW was silent for a moment. He didn’t know what to say as he
began to grasp the enormity of what those poor people must have gone
through. “But they must have gotten some solace from having saved
your species from extinction.”
“Perhaps they would have; but, within a few years, they all died.
Maybe it was physiological, perhaps it was psychological, but
somehow the reality of what they had become must have been
unbearable to them. I can only imagine that they found their new
existence so painful that they simply lost their will to live.”
“That’s…terrible,” JW murmured.
“Yes, but not as horrible as what was to come, and I had to watch
those terrible events unfold, knowing all the while that I was the
perpetrator of it all.”
“But I thought you said they all died.”
“Only the originals. Their offspring never knew they were from our
species. They did not seem to have any of our awareness or feelings.
They were exactly what we had created them to be, and more. We had
hoped that in a thousand years they would have had an army large

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enough to defend us against the Scaeva. Even though the originals were
only able to generate a few hundred offspring, a mere one hundred
years later there were over a million of them, within five hundred years,
they numbered in the billions. It was obvious that our geneticists had
done an excellent job reprogramming their procreation genes. But that
was nothing compared to what they had created in terms of their ability
to fight and their predisposition to violence. We had indeed created a
monster more terrifying than the perceived monsters we feared.”
“All of this time I was somewhat unaware of what was transpiring
back home. During this period, I was at the Scaeva world stealthily
observing their progress—and their progress was phenomenal. It was
during this period that they developed space travel. Then, something
remarkable happened—the wars stopped.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. I simply assumed that with space travel came some
sort of enlightenment about the immorality of warfare. I was partially
correct—but I missed the root cause of the cessation of hostilities.”
“Which was—?” JW prompted, virtually on the seat of his chair as
he listened to the narration.
The alien either ignored him or was so thoroughly involved in his
tale that he did not hear him. He continued speaking as though JW
wasn’t even there.
“How could I have missed it? I observed them for thousands of
years. I know I should have attempted to contact them, but even after
so many years, I was unable to decipher their language. It was melodic
and quite beautiful. The only thing I was able to figure out is that their
language was symbolic, rather than phonetic. Somewhat similar to the
communication used by some of this planet’s marine species. Still, I
should have tried. Perhaps things might have turned out differently.”
The alien stopped speaking and stared off into space. JW started to
worry that perhaps the alien was losing his own will to live. And as
much as he was starting to like the guy, it was his own safety that was
concerning him, since his spaceship piloting skills were rather limited,
all the more so given his useless little baby arm. His fate, and the
alien’s, were inseparably linked.
“Look Yoda, I realize that someone in his mid-twenties shouldn’t be
giving advice to someone who was born sometime during the Jurassic

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period. However, if there is one thing that I have learned in my few

years of existence it is that ‘what ifs’ are a waste of time. We make
mistakes, we learn from them, we move on. We can’t fix the past;
what’s done, is done.”
The alien didn’t answer. He continued to stare off into space, lost in
his own thoughts. Finally, he looked at JW.
“Would you like some tea JW? I am going to fix myself another
cup.”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.”
The alien disappeared behind the partition, returning with a
steaming cup of tea and a renewed smile.
“I apologize for my melancholy, but there are times when the
alternative to living seems the better of the two options.”
“Yeah, I kinda picked up on that. Sometimes, simply talking about
things helps you deal with the pain.”
“Perhaps JW, perhaps. At any rate, where was I?”
“You were observing the Scaeva while the Homo-Sapiens were
prolifically procreating,” JW said, waggling his eyebrows in a gesture
that mystified the alien.
“Yes, very poetically stated. As I said, I should have attempted
direct communication with them. But the simple truth is that I was
afraid. Even though I was invisible to them, my biggest nightmare was
that they would somehow discover me and tear me to pieces.”
“But you did eventually make contact with them, right? Because
you seem to know quite a bit about them.”
“Oh yes, we made contact. But it was not by choice. Something
called fate intervened. Interesting how we don’t have a word for fate in
our language. I guess it is an entirely human concept. Yet, it best
explains the events that transpired next.”
“When you made contact with Scaeva you mean?”
“No. What transpired to allow me to have direct contact with them.
You see, as I told you, our technology is mostly organic in nature. As
such, what it sometimes lacks in technological innovation and
sophistication, it more that makes up for in reliability. Our ships and
our technology in general, simply do not malfunction. Malfunctions are
extremely rare. Yet, my ship malfunctioned while I was observing the
Scaeva.”

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“Oh man, that sucks.”

“Yes. A very succinct observation JW. But sheer panic and terror
were the actual emotions I exhibited when I realized that my ship had
malfunctioned and was now fully visible to the Scaeva. I must have
truly looked like a deer caught in the headlights, to use one of your
colloquialisms.”
“I’m not sure how long I stood there, frozen, but by the time I
reacted, two of their scout ships where already heading toward me at a
high rate of speed. I was certain that I had seen my last day of
existence. I braced for what I had no doubt would be the explosion of
one of their high-energy kinetic weapons igniting against my ship, but
the explosion never came. They never fired their weapons. They simply
circled my ship and lined up next to me, one on each side.”
“Did they try to call you or something?” JW asked.
“They tried, but as I said, even after several centuries, my
understanding of their language was rudimentary at best. I tried saying
a few words in their language, which seemed to excite them a great
deal. But for all I knew, I was simply making them angry. The motions
of their ships, however, made it quite clear that I was to follow them.
Since I knew that I did not have much choice, I complied.”
“After we landed there was a great deal of commotion as I exited
my ship. I could tell from my previous observations of them that my
arrival was cause for celebration. But in my mind, I just thought it was
because I was going to be a new item on their menu. That was not the
case—they treated me like royalty. They were genuinely happy to see
me, and what I represented to their species. What they told me about
themselves will haunt my thoughts until I take my last breath.”
“So, you managed to learn their language after all.”
“No, not quite; they learned mine. In a few days, they could speak a
few broken sentences—within weeks they spoke it as well as I did.”
“Impressive,” JW murmured.
“One of the many impressive things about them.”
“So,” JW said, shifting slightly on the bed. “Why would such an
intelligent species want to annihilate each other, but befriend a stranger
from a different world without hesitation?”
“Quite simple as it turns out. It was a means of survival of their
species. I know it sounds oxymoronic, but from a species survival

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standpoint, it was quite logical. You see, their reproduction cycle was
so rapid that if they did not kill each other in such large numbers, they
would fall prey to starvation, disease and possible extinction. So, they
were genetically wired to fight and kill each other until the need to do
so disappeared.”
A look of understanding appeared on JW’s face. “And the
development of space travel obviated that need.”
“Exactly. Their collective consciousness instantly recognized that
war was no longer needed, so all war activities ceased almost
immediately and they began putting all their efforts into space travel
technology.”
“But, rather than killing each other, couldn’t they simply have
developed contraceptive devices? I mean, that’s not exactly high tech
stuff.”
“Not for humans, but virtually impossible for the Scaeva. You see,
the Scaeva are able to reproduce virtually from birth. The male and
female are each born with half of a complete…embryo, for lack of a
better term. As soon as they mate, they give birth to a new Scaeva and a
new embryo grows in its place. The embryo cannot be removed
because if the embryo dies, they die. And, if they do not procreate
within a certain period they also die. Attempting to remove the embryo
would be the same as removing a human heart or brain. It would also
be a very painful death as they and the embryo share the same nervous
system until mating takes place.”
“And how often does that take place?”
“In Earth time, approximately once a week.”
JW whistled softly. “Wow! I can see how overpopulation might be a
problem. Still, killing each other with perpetual war seems rather
extreme.”
“If you—a being from a species prone to violence—think so,
imagine how difficult it must have been for me and my people to wrap
our heads around the concept. As it turned out, it was impossible.”
“The Scaeva helped me repair my ship, even though the technology
was completely novel to them. Remarkably, within days, they had
figured out how my power and propulsion systems functioned. In the
end, it was probably this piece of knowledge, which I had inadvertently
provided them with, that saved them—fate indeed.”

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“Within a few weeks they had completely repaired my ship,

improved it actually. I bade them farewell and rushed home to warn my
people that we had made a terrible mistake. Little did I know that I was
too late.”
“We had envisioned the humans as our protectors, but as a
defensive measure only. We had no desire for them to go off to the
Scaeva world and attack them. I guess that the law of unintended
consequences is another concept with which we were unfamiliar. The
humans didn’t want to wait for a conflict. They wanted to fight, and if
the fight would not come to them, they would go to the fight. Already
there had been so many ‘incidents’ between them and our people, that
everyone wanted them gone. So, when the commanding officer, a
particularly odious human by the name of Nwarht Va, offered to launch
an invasion of the Scaeva, the elders unanimously approved the plan.”
“I returned just as the final invasion preparations were taking place.
The resources the humans used to build their hundreds of thousands of
warships had taken a great toll on my planet. The abundance we had
always taken for granted was now gone. Shortages developed and for
the first time in our existence we suffered hunger—another word that
did not exist in our language.”
“I was horrified when I met with the Elders and they told me of the
invasion plan. I tried explaining to them that the Scaeva were no threat
to us. I told them what the wars were all about. I tried explaining to
them how they procreated. But it was no use—I may as well have been
attempting to teach physics to an amoeba. That is how foreign the
concept was to them. But the real tragic part of the situation was that I
could not explain to them one of the fundamentals of Scaeva beliefs.”
“You mean they were a religious species?”
“Probably not in the same way that you understand religion—
although there are similarities. One of their beliefs is that once they
befriend you, they are one of you, and you are one of them. It is similar
to the Yin and Yang belief in one of your ancient cultures. Just as their
procreation is achieved by joining the two halves of the embryos, so
their spirituality is enhanced by mentally joining with a stranger and
becoming their friend. As far as they are concerned the two of you are
now one.”
“Interesting concept.”

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“It is much more than interesting. Because, you see, that philosophy
does not stop at the individual level, it is felt species-wide.”
JW looked confused. “Sorry, I don’t follow.”
“As I said, a fascinating concept, but also difficult to comprehend.
Imagine JW that we have just become friends for the first time.”
“OK, that’s easy, because I think you’re beginning to grow on me,”
JW replied.
The alien’s smile broadened. “I appreciate that, because I share a
similar sentiment. But now imagine that as soon as we become friends,
instantaneously the entire human race also befriends me.”
“That’s what happens with the Scaeva?” JW asked incredulously.
“But how, when they are, or were, so violent?”
“I am not sure. The Scaeva were unable to explain it to me. I
suppose that it is some species-wide level of consciousness that occurs
on some telepathic level. It is also not a simple philosophical or
esoteric concept. It is very real and has some very real implications.
The Scaeva not only instantly became my friends, they also became my
protectors, and by extension, the protectors of my entire species.”
JW stared at the alien for a few seconds while he digested this.
Something was puzzling him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“These concepts had to be almost incomprehensible to you. You
couldn’t convey them to your Elders; how were the Scaeva able to
explain these things to you?”
“They didn’t have to.”
JW was thoroughly confused now. “But you just said—?”
“They didn’t have to explain, because as soon as one of them
touched me, I simply knew. I knew everything about them. In spirit, I
became one of them.”
“As soon as it became clear to me that the Elders were not going to
change their minds, I rushed back to their world to warn them. Had I
not joined with them, perhaps they might have stood a chance. But
once I became part of their collective consciousness, essentially part of
them, it was impossible to convince them that humans were a threat to
them. To them, we and the humans were the same, there was no
distinction in their understanding of us. Therefore, they could not
perceive the humans as a threat. I tried to explain the differences, but to
the Scaeva, the differences were merely cosmetic. Much as the

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differences between your races; Caucasians, Asians, Africans. We were

simply one species to them and since we and they were now one, we
could not harm them—or so they thought.”
JW looked thoughtfully at the alien. “But since you guys were
now…joined, couldn’t they read your mind, or whatever, and realize
what you were trying to warn them against?”
“That is not how it works, unfortunately. I tried that as well. I tried
what we call touching them, both physically and mentally. It did not
work. They are not telepathic in the way you understand. As for
touching them to try to convey the threat they were facing, that was
impossible because actual physical touching is neither permissible nor
possible, except during first contact, or for mating. Anything else might
damage their embryo and is, therefore, strictly forbidden.”
“Wow, that is one weird bunch,” JW muttered.
“Perhaps, but no stranger than we might be to them. Nevertheless, I
failed them. But much worse, I paved the entire road to their demise. It
was my idea to create humans, it was my failure to make early contact,
and then once I made contact, I essentially rendered them defenseless
against humans. They would have done me a great service had they
killed me as soon as they were attacked. But they did not—they could
not. Perhaps that was to be my penance, to live a long life to ponder my
sins. I am not a religious person, for we are not spiritual beings, but I
have had many years to reflect on my actions and their consequences.
In the many lonely years I have spent in space, there are times when I
can almost feel a presence watching me—judging me.”
JW sat in silence, for he could think of nothing to say. He simply
looked at the alien. He truly could not fathom what it must have been
like to live with that type of pain for over 30 millennia.
“The humans attacked their world and killed them by the millions,
then by the billions and yet the Scaeva did nothing to defend
themselves. It was incomprehensible to me. However, once their
numbers reached some type of genetic threshold, their species survival
instincts must have kicked in and they started to fight back. Reluctantly
at first, but as their numbers continued to decline they started fighting
with a renewed fervor that nearly matched their own civil wars. Yet, it
still seemed hopeless.”
“So, what? The humans completely destroyed them?”

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“Nearly. But then something remarkable happened. With the

knowledge their engineers had acquired from repairing my ship, they
figured out the weaknesses in the humans’ ships. And slowly, ever so
slowly, the tide began to turn. In addition to being able to destroy their
ships at will, the Scaeva realized that the humans seemed to be running
out of raw materials. They realized that a war of attrition would
eventually wear down the humans. And so it was that for the next
hundred years they used a form of what you would call guerrilla
tactics.”
“During those hundred years, the humans stripped our planet bare
of natural resources. They scoured nearby star systems for compatible
resources, but they found none. Eventually the tide turned. The Scaeva
put their ferocity and killing skills to good use. Once the Scaeva went
on the offensive, the humans were unable to stop them. By the time
they managed to retreat back to our world there were fewer than a
thousand of them left.”
JW looked at him somewhat alarmed. “A thousand out of over a
billion?”
“Yes. As I said, the Scaeva are very good at warfare.”
“I guess I wouldn’t want those guys pissed off at me,” JW
commented.
He thought about it for a few seconds, and then a horrible thought
struck him. “Hey, wait a second—those guys are pissed off at me. I’m
human! Are…are they still around?”
“Yes they are.”
“Why didn’t they follow the humans to your world and kill all of
you?”
“They would have, but I managed to convince them not to. As for
us, they had finally delinked us from the humans in their collective
mind. Since we were not linked to humans, they had no reason to
consider us a threat. We continued to be part of their collective
consciousness.”
“What happened then?”
“We attempted to offer them whatever restitution they deemed
appropriate, although with our state of resources it was doubtful we
could offer them much. But, they assured me that they did not consider
us responsible for anything that had transpired.”

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“But you created—”

“I agree, but according to the Scaeva we did not take away their
free will when we created them. Therefore, their actions were entirely
their responsibility. Still, we felt that something had to be done.”
“What did you do?”
“We gave them our world.”
“What?” JW asked incredulously. “So what, you guys simply
moved—your entire population?”
“Well, it was not as magnanimous a gesture as it might appear. You
see, the humans had stripped our planet bare. It was virtually
uninhabitable to us. We needed to find a new home, so we turned our
world over to them and we left in search of a new one.”
“Did you find one?”
“We did, eventually. It wasn’t as nice as our beautiful planet, but it
was habitable.”
“What happened to the surviving humans?” JW asked, though he
suspected he already knew the answer.
The alien didn’t answer right away. He looked at JW with what
appeared to be remorse, or perhaps regret. JW couldn’t tell which.
“When we learned that the Scaeva were on the verge of victory and
were chasing the humans back to our world, we thought that we would
all be destroyed. By now we had come to terms with the fact that our
existence was over. After all, even if the Scaeva didn’t destroy us, our
lovely world was, for all intents, gone. We accepted our fate. But we
also realized what a terrible wrong we had done to the humans and so
we were determined to save the few that were left. We had known for
many thousands of years, through information from the many probes
we had launched, that there were a number of systems that would
support human life. One of them even had indigenous species that was
similar to us, and humans, physically and genetically.”
“Let me guess,” JW interrupted. “Earth.”
“Yes. Earth. Or as we called it, system S-3-9. Many of the surviving
humans still had very severe injuries. We treated them the best that we
could and we sent them on their way to system S-3-9.”
“Just like that?”
“No, not quite. We had to make some modifications.”
“Boy, you guys sure like to modify things,” JW mumbled sourly.

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Although he wasn’t mad at this alien specifically, it was beginning to

annoy him how these aliens played God.
“I understand your anger JW. What we did to your species, to our
species, is unforgivable, but at the time we felt the actions were
necessary. We did not want them to have any memories of what had
transpired. We erased the part of their brain that had any memories of
who they were and where they came from. We also changed their
genetic coding to limit their life span to a few decades. That was
necessary because we felt that with their longevity intact, within a few
thousand years they might develop the technology that would enable
them to find us. We could not allow that.”
“But you just said you erased their memories, so why would they
come looking for you? Besides, what would their lifespan have to do
with it?”
“Our doctors warned us that some of the humans were so injured,
that some of these procedures might not work. They might retain some,
or all, of their memories. Therefore, by restricting their life span, we
decreased the possibility that any technical knowledge they retained
would last beyond their lifetime.”
“So, you saved them, in order to sentence them to death.”
The alien did not answer. He seemed to shrink within himself and
stared at the floor.
“Hey, Yoda, look I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t really your fault. I
mean—I guess it was your fault, but like you said, you’ve done plenty
of penance for it. I think some 30-odd thousand years of purgatory
should be enough.”
“I would gladly spend the next 30,000 years in hell if I could undo
what I have done.”
“I’m sure you would, but look, you’re trying to make amends now,
right? That’s why you’re here.”
“No. I am here because I am trying to save our worlds.”
“Save them from what?”
“From destruction, by someone here on Earth.”

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 Chapter 23
Nouveau Paris: Las Vegas, Nevada
Sunday, September 16th, 2046

The director opened his eyes and looked at the time digitally
projected on the ceiling.
Another gadget. How people love their gadgets.
His fatigued body told him to go back to sleep, but duty dictated he
get up. It had been 5AM by the time he had finally reached to the hotel
room. He had crawled into bed and immediately fallen asleep.
The three hours of sleep he managed weren’t nearly enough, but
served the purpose of allowing him to function. He thought about
ordering breakfast from room service, but an idea came to him and he
grabbed a nutrition bar and a bottle of water from the mini fridge and
made himself a small pot of coffee instead. He walked to the suite’s
living room and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. From the 40th
floor of his hotel, he had a panoramic view of Las Vegas. He sipped his
coffee and looked out at the famous fountain-pool outside and the
dancing 3D waters. He stared, mesmerized, as the waters rose to form
3D water recreations of various Roman gods. In this particular scene,
two gods were fighting an epic battle. As one of the gods achieved
victory by driving his sword into his adversary, the vanquished god
exploded into multi-colored droplets.
He tore himself away from the window, pulled his phone out of his
bag and sat down at the desk to file his report. Once that was finished,
he downloaded the report from Arthur. He wasn’t expecting much, but
Arthur had filed a complete report of the prior night’s events. After
carefully reviewing it, he submitted his approval of the day’s action
plan and issued an order to Arthur to get some rest. He took a sip of
coffee and glanced at the door to the adjoining suite. It occurred to him
that Major Lucas hadn’t checked in. He had been so busy last night it
hadn’t even crossed his mind.
The director stood up, went to the door and knocked. “Major?”
No answer.

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He dialed the room and then the major’s MiPhone with equally
negative results. Strange, that didn’t seem like Lucas. Now that he had
a little more time, he sat down in front of the MiS and reread the
major’s file. Interesting, he thought to himself, Major Lucas had started
out in the Navy and trained as a SEAL before transferring to the Air
Force. Now, that was unusual and definitely not SOP. He would have to
ask about that someday—it was probably an interesting story.
Assuming, of course, it wasn’t classified.
Bustos still felt uncomfortable about his missing assistant, but at
least he was now certain Lucas could take care of himself. Still, given
the man’s service record, the fact that he hadn’t checked in meant
something had gone wrong—terribly wrong.
What’s with the paranoia? Bustos suddenly thought. The man was
single and they were in Vegas after all. Was it not conceivable that
Lucas had gone out for a night-on-the-town?
He grimaced. Possible, but not likely. Either way, there was not
much he could do about it right now. He grabbed his phone and tapped
his daughter’s icon. Her picture appeared on the screen and a 2D
holographic projection of her appeared in front of him.
“Hi Dad, how’s it going?”
“Hello Jessica. It’s been a while.”
“I know, but we’re both busy, busy beavers.”
“Well, you might be, but my job is as exciting as watching paint
dry,” he said, his voice deliberately flat.
“Yeah, well I guess being in charge of regulating an industry that
hasn’t existed for 25 years might give you a little free time.”
“Hey, the nuclear energy industry is alive and well.”
“Right, Dad. You have to keep an eye on that thorium. Ooh, nasty
stuff.”
“Smart-ass.”
“Learned from the best. So, to what do I owe this surprise?”
“Are you in Vegas, Jess?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’m looking down at the Caesar’s fountains and I was wondering if
the food over at the buffet is still as good.”
“Oh my god! You’re in town?”
“Yes ma’am. So, what do you say, want to grab some breakfast?”

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“Love to. But isn’t it a little late for breakfast? Haven’t you been up
since, like, six?”
“Eight, actually,” he corrected, stifling a yawn.
“Wow. Either the job is as boring as you proclaim, or—”
“It’s the ‘or’. I’ll tell you some of it over lunch.”
“Too early for lunch. But the Sunday brunch at Caesar’s is killer.”
“All right, then. About a half hour?”
“It’s a date.”
The image of Jessica shimmered and disappeared. The director
headed for the bathroom and took a long leisurely shower, trying to
wash some of the fatigue off his muscles. As he was drying off, he
heard his phone chime. It was a message from Lucas.
His sense of relief was soon replaced by concern as he listened to
the details of what had transpired the previous night and this morning.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile as he thought how right he had been
about Lucas. He dialed the number Lucas had left as he walked toward
the elevator.

:
For many decades, the Caesar’s buffet had offered one of the
premier Sunday brunches in Las Vegas. It had started in the 1970s and
80s when the elegant buffet was held in one of the large showrooms of
the casino. It featured magnificent ice carvings, opulent champagne
waterfalls and decadent chocolate fountains. It had gone through
various less spectacular iterations in the 90s and early 2000s. It then
underwent a renovation in the early 2000 teens, and most recently in
the late 2030s, around the time it began the ascent to its current
spectacular gastronomical achievements.
Jessica got a table near a window overlooking the pool. These were
usually reserved for VIP’s, but the hapless hostess never stood a
chance. She waved to her father as he walked in and ran to give him a
big hug and a kiss.
“It’s good to see you, Dad. It’s been a while.”
“Too long I’m afraid,” he said as he sat down.
“Maybe. But we’re here now, so it’s all good, right?”

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“I suppose. It’s just that somehow, I never think that I did as right
by you as I could have while you were growing up.”
“Dad, you did fine. You were a single father raising a girl by
himself. I turned out good, ain’t I?”
The director laughed. “How many degrees do you have? What do
they do these days; give them out with happy meals?”
“Oh my god! Happy Meals? Really? Do you ever get out of your
office? They haven’t had those for decades.”
“You mean your degrees are legit?”
“Don’t know what mean degree, but they give Jessica office with
desk and big TV. Watch cartoons, and doodle. Much fun.”
He laughed and Jessica was unable to stay in character and she
burst out laughing as well. Her father finally managed to stop laughing,
and looked into his daughter’s emerald green eyes. She had always
been serious, intense and scarily intelligent, it was nice to see the
jokester he knew was inside come out occasionally.
“So, what is the director of the NRC doing in Sin City?”
“Good old Jess, five minutes of fun and then right back to asking
questions.”
“Inquiring minds want to know.”
“All right, so how much can I tell you?”
“How about everything?”
“Not sure I can do that, Jess—all I can tell you is that we had
a…nuclear event near here last night.”
Jessica’s smile vanished. “A nuclear event, Dad? Really? The only
nuclear plant near here is the Overton Power Plant. What happened?
Someone drop a thorium rod on their big toe?”
“Not likely, thorium for nuclear power is liquid.”
“Duh! Just making a joke, Dad. My point is that a thorium nuclear
accident is about as hazardous as a day at the beach without sunscreen.
So, my question still stands.”
“It wasn’t thorium, Jess. It was more than likely plutonium.”
She looked intensely into her father’s eyes to see if there was any
hint of humor. But she knew better, her father wouldn’t joke about
something like that.
“Dad, plutonium is only used for one thing. Correction, was only
used for one thing.”

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Her father nodded.

“Oh my god! That blackout last night was caused by an EMP
wasn’t it?”
Her father’s silence told her everything she needed to know.
“But how is it possible?” Jess cried, her mind racing. “They were
all destroyed 25 years ago. You were the one to oversee it. There’s no
way you could have missed any.”
“Jessica, I always knew there was a possibility that we didn’t get
them all. But even if we did, it’s the old genie in the bottle—once it’s
out, it’s impossible to put him back.”
Jessica bit her lip. “Do you know who or why?”
“No. But I have a good team working on it. We should have some
answers soon. In fact, one of my team members will be dropping by
here a little later to give me a full briefing.”
“When you catch whoever did this, will they really give him the
death penalty?”
“Not my call Jess. It is the law. I, for one, can’t say I would feel
really bad to see whoever is responsible having his life curtailed by a
few years.”
Jessica said nothing. She understood her father’s feelings on this.
He had made the eradication of nuclear weapons his life’s mission. The
fact that his son, the brother she had never met, was a victim of one of
those weapons made his work as much a personal vendetta as a job.
Because the fact was, the bomb that killed his son had, for all intents
and purposes, also killed his wife. She committed suicide before Jessica
was three years old. Her father never talked about it. He had only really
mentioned it once.
Many nights, Jessica had lain awake wondering if she had been a
replacement baby. It wasn’t fair that she felt that way, but in her mind,
it didn’t make sense that her parents would want to have a child nearly
18 years after their first. That was, unless they were trying to replace
the one they lost. She had never told her father about these feelings,
and she never would. Hurting his feelings was the last thing in the
world she wanted to do.
She pushed her thoughts aside. “Well, I guarantee you things will
work out for the best Dad. Now, I guess we should go sample some of
this luscious food.”

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She rose from her chair, but stopped halfway up. “Wait, is that?
Son-of-a-bitch!”
She tore off like a laser guided missile across the buffet. Her father
followed her trajectory and determined that Hurricane Jessica was
about to destroy two unwary fellows, blissfully ignorant of the calamity
that was about to befall them.
“Well,” he said to no one in particular, “guess brunch was getting a
bit dull anyway.”

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 Chapter 24
Claremont, California: Near the Harvey Mudd Colleges

Bryce was not feeling the love.

First, his weekend getaway was ruined by a freak blackout. His
decision to hang out with Jessica left him feeling a little hurt by her less
than joyous response. Then, when he’d tagged along with her to UNLV,
he walked into a sign, been shown up by some attractive college dude,
discovered plans for nuclear Armageddon and then messed up his
chances for a date with Jessica when he got distracted reading library
books. Even his sleep had been ruined with that trippy dream. Finally,
adding insult to injury, he had been chased through a shopping center,
witnessed his brand new shiny flying donut blown out of the air, and
had some beautiful exotic witch threaten to feed him his own eyeball.
Seriously, what had he done to piss off the Supreme Being?
Thankfully, the Cucamonga Police didn’t peg the ruined stores on
him and had let him go after an hour of questioning. Bryce had a
feeling they really didn’t know what to make of the situation.
Now, sitting in the parking lot of Harvey Mudd, Bryce was
debating whether he could simply walk back onto campus. He hoped
the incident at Victoria Gardens had been the end of his stalker
problems, but the logical part of him knew that whoever wanted him
dead was probably tracking him wherever he went. That meant that his
dorm room had probably been bugged and rigged with lasers that
would slice him into several separate body parts, or sauté his innards,
or…. He needed somewhere else to go. Some place where no one
would really think to look.
Hoping he wasn’t overstepping, Bryce tapped Jessica’s contact icon
on his MiWatch, grimacing as he anticipated a caustic response.
After a few rings, Jessica’s face popped up on the screen. “Costa?
What’s up?”
“Um, hey Jess,” Bryce grinned, hoping his face didn’t look too
terrible. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

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Jessica pursed her lips. “Costa, the last time you asked me for a
favor—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But this isn’t as bad, honest. There aren’t
going to be any flying possums, I promise. I just want to know if I can
stay at your place for a few days.”
Jessica frowned. “What, your dorm flooded or something?”
“Actually, yeah,” Bryce lied, trying to look innocent. “One of the
guys—actually never mind, you don’t need to know. And I don’t have
anywhere else to go, sooo—”
Jessica glanced to her right and said something to someone.
Turning back, she studied Bryce thoughtfully for a long moment.
“Promise you won’t bring any friends over for parties?”
“Promise,” Bryce said, raising his hand. “Heart-swear.”
Jessica sighed. “All right Costa, but only for a few days. I’ll call
Kelly and let her know you’re coming.”
“Thank you, Jessica,” Bryce said. “You’re the best.”
She rolled her eyes and hung up without replying. With a smile that
didn’t reach his eyes, Bryce started the car and pulled out of the
parking lot.

:
Bryce rang the bell three times before Kelly finally opened the
door. He had to resist the urge to plug his ears at the blare of heavy
metal music blasting from inside.
“Hey Bryce,” Kelly grinned, scratching her chin and leaving a
smear of green paint on it. “Sorry, let me turn the music off.”
“Thanks,” Bryce said, walking in and closing the door behind him.
Bryce had not yet visited Jessica’s new apartment. He was
impressed. Jessica and Kelly’s new place was in a nice part of
Claremont, one of several condominium units inside a gated
community. It was as roomy as a small house, with huge windows,
comfortable looking couches, and fancy lights, and personal touches
like pictures and decorations. Several bonsai plants sprouted up from
the hardwood floor. A large Buddha fountain bubbled quietly in the
corner of the room. Kelly had several easels set up by one of the

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windows—colorful paintings of various animals that she planned to

submit to local galleries.
“Nice place,” he commented, picking up a ceramic bowl with a
dragon painted on it. “I love the decor.”
Kelly smirked. “Yeah, my taste is a little gaudy, but Jessica doesn’t
care. So hey, it gives the room character.” She gestured toward one of
the doors by the kitchen. “Here, Jessica said you could use her room.”
“I thought I’d have to take the couch.”
Kelly laughed. “Yeah, well, Jessica said she’d rather have you sleep
on the couch, but she knew you’d end up in the bed anyway, so she
thought she’d be the bigger person.”
Bryce snorted. “How generous.”
Kelly shrugged. Pushing the door to the bedroom open, she ushered
Bryce in.
Jessica’s room was decorated much differently from the main room.
Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and a shoji screen blocked off the
bed. Several textbooks and research papers cluttered the various
dressers. One wall had shelves with geisha girl displays and a mass of
framed pictures covered the wall, mostly of Jessica and Kelly with their
friends.
“I could get used to this,” Bryce admitted, looking around the room.
“It beats a dorm room any day.”
“Yep, sure does,” Kelly agreed dryly.
Bryce was about to respond, when one of the pictures on the wall
caught his eye. He stepped in for a closer look and when he did, he felt
his blood turn to ice.
It was a picture of a teenage boy standing in front of the ocean. He
had his arms crossed, and he was grinning easily like he and the
cameraman were sharing a joke. The wind had blown his black hair to
the side and his eyes were a startling shade of blue.
“Kelly,” Bryce choked out. “Who...who’s this?”
“Um, that’s Jessica’s brother,” Kelly replied, giving him an odd
look. “Why?”
“I know him,” Bryce muttered. “This guy…I…I’ve seen him
before.”
“Not likely.” Kelly said, a slight frown creasing her forehead. “He
died over twenty years ago.”

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“Died,” Bryce repeated. “How?”

“I’m not sure,” Kelly said, frowning at the picture. “Jessica doesn’t
really talk about him. I mean, he died before she was born.”
“He’s Asian?”
“Uh, yeah. So’s Jessica, remember? Well, half, anyway. Their
mother was Japanese.”
“Right, she just doesn’t look it.” Bryce said, rubbing his eyes and
forcing himself to look away from the picture.
“I guess. Not unusual. Many hapa offspring never develop Asian
features.”
“Hapa?
“A Hawaiian term for a person who is half Asian.”
“Oh.” Bryce looked back at the picture. Something seemed off, but
he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Sorry Kelly, it’s been a long week. Do you mind if I take a nap?”
“All right.” Kelly said, still looking at him strangely. “Well anyway,
the shower is through there if you want to clean up. I need to finish my
painting for the gallery tomorrow. And I cook lunch precisely at noon,
just so you know.”
Bryce forced a smile. “Thanks Kelly.”
Giving him one last look, Kelly stepped out and closed the door
quietly behind her.
Bryce took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. His entire life
he’d never been a believer in supernatural occurrences, premonitions or
any other mumbo-jumbo like that. But now—there was a supernatural
premonition staring him right in the face.
That boy he’d seen in his dream last night was the spitting image of
Jessica’s dead brother.

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 Chapter 25
Lake Mead National Recreation Area: Nevada

JW awoke to the splendor of the sun rising over the mountains to

the east. The ship was hovering over a large body of water, which JW
presumed was Lake Mead. With the unobstructed view the ship
afforded him, he witnessed the sun slowly rising over the eastern
ridgeline. Its rays illuminated the eastern facing side of the distant
casinos in a kaleidoscope of colors.
His stomach rumbled loudly.
The alien was nowhere in sight, so JW got up to see if there was
anything resembling food in this floating basketball. He took a few
steps, then stopped abruptly.
I’m walking!
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he looked down at his leg and
involuntarily gasped. It’s there.
He looked at his arm. The skin was still somewhat translucent, he
could see muscle, veins and arteries, but it didn’t matter; he had his arm
and leg back, and they weren’t baby-sized. He almost jumped up and
down for joy, but thought better of it, not wanting to do anything that
might jeopardize this most joyous turn of events. Just then, the alien
walked in and JW rushed to him and gave him a bear hug that caused
the alien to emit a loud groan.
“I am glad you are feeling better. Your strength seems to be already
much improved.”
“This is amazing! I have to admit that I had a little skepticism, but
you did it! You gave me my arm and leg back!”
“Yes, you do seem to be healing rather nicely. Any pain or
discomfort?”
“No, nothing,” JW said, bending his new leg. “But I am rather
hungry. Do you have anything to eat around here?”
“I do. Probably not anything you will find all that palatable, but it is
nutritious.”
“Whatever, I feel like I could eat a cow.”

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The alien grimaced.

“Let me guess, you’re a vegetarian,” JW commented with a
bemused smile.
“Actually, yes. We do not consume any animal matter and only
certain types of plant matter.”
“For real? I was only kidding.”
“Consuming other living things is abhorrent to us.”
“Plants are alive,” JW observed. It was not the first time he’d made
such an argument, and probably wouldn’t be the last.
“True. That is why, as I said, we only eat certain types of plants and
none of the living parts.”
“I don’t get it”
“An apple from a tree, for instance.”
“Oh. Okay, so what do you have that can appease my complaining
stomach?”
The alien handed him something wrapped in what looked like wax
paper. He unwrapped it and took a giant bite. His face instantly
wrinkled into a look of utter disgust.
“Oh, yuck! Disgusting! Tastes like elephant dung, dragged through
the mud, and wrapped in slime.”
“As I said, not very palatable, but highly nutritious,” the alien said
apologetically.
“Anything that tastes this bad has to be nutritious. What is it?”
“It is a blend of vitamins, minerals and other components tailored to
your specific body chemistry, wrapped in some processed grasses and
tree bark.”
“Let me repeat—yuck! But I’ll admit, it is filling,” JW replied
JW took a few more bites of the concoction. Either he was getting
used to the taste, or the stuff wasn’t as bad as he initially thought. He
remembered what they had been talking about the previous night and
suddenly he wasn’t so hungry any more.
“You said someone here on Earth is trying to destroy your world,
but you also said you were trying to save my world. How is it possible
that someone here can destroy your world? You said it was several
hundred light years away. Plus, if they destroy this world, won’t they
be destroyed as well?”
“Yes, they probably will die as well. I do not believe it will matter

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to them. I think their motivation is revenge. To them, dying will be a

small price to pay.”
“Who would be pissed off enough at you guys to go all jihadist on
your ass? The Scaeva? Thought you said you guys were still buddy,
buddy.”
The alien remained silent. He was again simply staring at the floor.
Suddenly, something clicked in the back of JW’s mind. “Hey, wait a
minute, you don’t mean the original humans? Do you?”
The alien was still looking at the floor but JW saw a perceptible
nod of his head.
“You said your doctors made it so they could only live a few
decades.”
“True,” the alien agreed. “But they also warned us that there was a
risk in performing the procedure on patients that had severe traumatic
injuries. There was the possibility that because the injured body was
trying to repair itself, the immune system might nullify the procedure,
thinking that it was another injury that needed repairing.”
“Same with the memory erasure?”
“Possibly.”
“I still find it hard to believe that they could have survived 35,000
years,” JW said, shaking his head in amazement. “I’m sure you’ve
noticed that throughout Earth’s history it has not been a particularly
safe place. Heck, surviving just a hundred years takes not only good
genes, but a lot of luck as well. But 35,000? Let’s see—they would
have had to survive ice ages, predators, countless wars, pestilence,
accidents and murders, not to mention random lightning bolts, shark
attacks…well, anyway, you get the idea.”
“Yes, I agree. The odds seem rather unlikely. Nevertheless, it is the
only reasonable explanation.”
“But, wait a second,” JW countered. “What difference does it
make? You said your people abandoned the planet, so why would you
care that someone is taking a potshot at it with some type of doomsday
weapon?”
“To put it succinctly JW, the Scaeva fixed it.”
“They fixed your ruined planet?” JW asked incredulously.
“Yes. Their technology had advanced quite far. They developed a
regeneration method which repaired our planet over a period of only a

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few hundred years.”

“Okay, let’s assume for a second that one or more of the original
humans survived,” JW pressed. “How do they destroy a planet from
several hundred light years away?”
“We believe it to be some type of very powerful, highly focused
energy pulse.”
“How do you know that that is the source of the threat?”
“Because one of my probes detected—will detect—the pulse
heading toward our planet.”
“Will detect?”
“Yes. In a few days, a very powerful energy pulse will be fired at
our planet from Earth. If I do not find a way to stop it before this week
is up, the Earth will be a radioactive wasteland.”
“But you said ‘will detect’, future tense.”
“Yes, of course—I thought it was obvious. I traveled here from
several days in the future.”

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JW stared down into the mirror flat surface of the waters of Lake
Mead. At first, he found the experience of floating a few hundred feet
above the ground, with no visible barrier between him and the water, a
little disquieting. But once used to it, he found the experience rather
pleasant and relaxing. He remembered the summer houseboat vacations
he used to take with his family during his early teens, and felt a pang of
nostalgia. The summers were so hot here that within a minute or two
after getting out of the water he would be as dry as the sand
surrounding their cove.
He and his older brother used to race their hydrofoil jet skis at
insane speeds across the lake. The hydrofoils had speed regulators of
course, but his brother could easily hack into the onboard computers of
the ski, allowing them to fly across the lake at over 100MPH.
His father had ranted at them for being foolish when he discovered
what they were doing, and how young people always thought they were
immortal. Looking down at his newly rejuvenated hand, JW realized
that perhaps immortality wasn’t so farfetched.
“Not that I mind the scenery, it brings back pleasant memories, but
why are we just hanging out over the lake?”
“I am refueling.”
“With water?”
“Technically with hydrogen and oxygen—but yes,” the alien
explained.
“So, this ship runs on water?”
“Broken down to its basic components, in conjunction with some
other elements, but basically, yes.”
A smile began to spread slowly over JW’s face. “This high-tech
spaceship uses the same advanced technology as a steam locomotive
from the 1800s? That’s hilarious.”
“Now that you have pointed it out I do see the similarities, but I do
not understand the joviality of those similarities.”
“Joviality of the similarities?” JW echoed with a chuckle. “That’s
even funnier Yoda. You really need to get out more and have

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conversations with real people, in actual English. What do you say that
instead of eating some of that green goo you gave me for breakfast, we
go into town for lunch and pig out in one of the copiously endowed
gastronomical delightful buffets? How’s that for using multi-syllabic
prose?”
“I do not believe your syntax is accurate, but more importantly I do
not believe going into town, in your current condition, would be such a
good idea.”
“Why? Just because my arm and leg are a little see-throughish? I’ll
wear a long sleeve shirt.”
“You are also still recovering and although you might not be aware
of it, adapting to your improved physiology,” the alien observed.
“So? It would be a perfect opportunity to try out my new physique.
Anyway, we’ll discuss that later when I get hungry. I’m more interested
right now in you telling me about how this ship works with only water
as fuel and about you traveling back in time—that’s awesome!”
“All right, if you wish. The propulsion system is not that
complicated. It is similar to a process your scientists developed a few
years ago, after their…unpleasant experience with nuclear fusion. The
process is called cold fusion. Although your science is currently only
able to accomplish the task with heavier elements, it is possible, and
more efficient, with lighter elements such as hydrogen, oxygen and
nitrogen.”
“So, my initial assessment was fairly accurate; the process is not
much different than what they used 200 years ago.”
“There are a few less steps involved in the energy conversion
process, but analogously accurate,” the alien agreed.
“I’m still having a hard time conceptualizing that a little steam
engine could propel this thing several hundred light years.”
“I said your description was analogous, not exact. For one thing,
this ship has virtually zero mass. Our combined weights are 300 times
greater than the ship’s. In addition, my little steam engine, as you put it,
is able to produce enough energy out of one cubic meter of water to
power the city of Las Vegas for an entire year. Finally, although the
distance from my planet to yours is over 200 light years, my journey to
your world is not a linear one. At high energies, space can actually be
bent and warped.”

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“Are you serious? You mean that Gene Roddenberry was right?”
The alien looked at JW with a perplexed look.
“I do not recall a human scientist by that name.”
“Oh, he wasn’t a scientist. He was a science fiction writer. He
created a television series in the 1960s that became a cultural
phenomenon. In it, the ships travel faster than light by using an engine
that could produce a warp drive.”
“That is ridiculous. In this universe, nothing with matter can travel
faster than light.”
“Yoda, I said it was science fiction, not science fact. And no
offense, dude, but if you’re going to make a habit of zooming around
earth in your flying saucer and conversing with the natives, you’re
gonna hear your share of Star Trek references. Anyway, you did just
say that you traveled here by warping space.”
“Space, yes—not the laws of physics. Warping space is simple,
traveling faster than light is impossible.”
“Okay. I think I understand the concept. By applying a certain
amount of energy to the surrounding space, you fold it around your
ship, thereby making the distance from point A to point B many orders
of magnitude shorter,” JW concluded, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Succinctly and accurately put,” commented the alien.
“Okay, but how the hell did I just come up with that? Physics was
never my strong suit.”
“I would assume that it is because the nanonites are doing their
job.”
“So, are you saying the nanonites are making me smarter?”
“In a sense,” the alien concurred. “Although all they are really
doing is optimizing your synaptic pathways.”
“Apparently they haven’t optimized that particular pathway,
because I have no idea what you just said.”
“Suffice it to say that your problem-solving skills and spatial
awareness will be much improved,” the alien stated.
“All right, put my enhanced brain to work and explain to me how
this time travel thing works. Because it seems to me that if you can go
back in time, why not go back all the way to before you created the
humans and don’t do it.”
“Yes, that would seem the logical course of action; but there are

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issues. Time travel is very complicated and extremely dangerous. We

lost thousands of probes and many ships experimenting with temporal
displacement.”
“Tempura what?”
“Temporal displacement. Just a more accurate way of saying time
travel. You see, travel implies movement; during temporal
displacement, you do not actually move.”
“Oh. I see,” JW mumbled not really seeing much of anything. If
those nanonites really were making him smarter, they must be doing it
one brain cell at a time.
“I am not an expert in the field. As I have already stated, you do not
travel through time as much as you are displaced in time. What that
means is that you leave your current time and simply appear at a
different time. So far we have only safely been able to accomplish this
journey into the very recent past.”
“That’s why you said you would never return home. This is a one-
way journey for you.”
“Quite correct,” the alien confirmed, his expression unreadable.
“But it still doesn’t explain why you didn’t go back 30 some-odd
thousand years and correct your mistake.”
“Simply stated, because we cannot. Temporal displacement has
limits.”
“Are you talking about the paradox of time travel?”
“I did not realize there was a paradox.”
“You know—I go back in time and kill my mother before she had
me. But if I did that, I would never be born and therefore could not
travel back in time to kill my mother. See? Paradox.”
“Interesting, although I fail to see why you would want to kill your
mother. Do you have some unresolved issues? I have been reading up
on your Sigmund Freud and he believed that most of your species
psychological problems are rooted in unresolved maternal issues. In
fact—”
“David! Can you focus here? We were talking about time travel
paradoxes, not psychobabble.”
“Yes, well, the point is that there is no such thing as a time travel
paradox.”
“Why not?”

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“I suppose on the face of it, there should be. But time is not linear.
It is actually multi-dimensional. Meaning that when you travel in time,
you are actually going into an alternate dimension and there is no
dimension that allows you to exist in two different states, past and
present. Therefore, you could not displace to a timeline where you
coexist with a different temporal you, or your parents. If you did
attempt to go back to your own past and do harm to your mother, you
would find that she does not exist in that dimension, or timeline, if you
prefer.”
JW was astonished that he had grasped that concept. “So, what you
are saying is that every time you temporal displace, you create a new
timeline?”
“Correct! In fact, some of our theorists have hypothesized that any
substantial action you take creates a new timeline. Some even theorize
that every action, no matter how insignificant, creates a new timeline
and therefore a new universe. Since space outside of the known
universe is infinite, there is no limit to the number of universes that can
be created, past or future, by every one of our actions or thoughts.
Therefore, the further back in time you attempt to go, the more likely
that you will find yourself in a time, or universe, that is completely
foreign and potentially lethal to you.”
That one JW had a harder time with. He mulled it over for a while
before asking what seemed to be an obvious question. “But if that is
true, you have already changed the timeline you came from and you are
now in a different one. What makes you think your actions will have
any effect on that timeline?”
He stared intently at JW. “Well of course my actions will have no
impact in that timeline—I am no longer part of it. But, it will make a
difference in this one.”
The alien looked at JW, waiting for some type of protest or inquiry.
There was none. JW had turned and was again staring at the lake,
watching some boats and hydro-skis speeding across the water. He
turned suddenly, facing the alien.
“David, I think it’s time we go out and go get some grub. All this
quantum physics discussion has left me feeling famished.”
“I doubt it is the discussion that is contributing to your hunger.
More than likely it is the increase in your metabolic rate. While you are

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going through your healing process your body demands increased

calories.”
JW tapped his foot impatiently at the alien’s explanation.
“Whatever, let’s go hit the buffet at Caesars—it’s killer.”
“I am sure it is quite delicious, but as I previously pointed out, I do
not believe that is a good idea.”
“Look David, I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.
Obviously, I owe you my life. But there is no way that I’m going to eat
another one of those green pieces of elephant dung. I need some real
food.”
It was obvious to the alien that this stubborn human was not about
to change his mind. It was equally obvious that he was running out of
time and could not afford to spend much more time taking care of him.
By the end of the day the healing process should have progressed
sufficiently for him to allow the human to go on his way. Or, perhaps,
JW could be of some help in his search. He was becoming a firm
believer in fate. Somehow, he felt that his encounter with this affable
human was not entirely happenstance.
“Very well JW. I am hoping they have plenty of vegetable matter
that I can consume.”
“Trust me. A cow could graze there happily for days.”
The alien walked over to the control panel, waved his hand over it,
causing the ship to start slowly rotating. The lake quickly disappeared
below them as the craft picked up speed. In a few minutes, they were
cruising the Vegas strip, spaceship-style, several hundred feet above it.
A few moments later they stopped, floating a few feet above the central
tower of the recently renovated Caesar’s Palace.
“Let me get this straight, you can just park your ship here, above
one of the busiest streets in the world, and no one can see it?”
“That is correct. The hull simply bends all light around the ship,
thereby rendering it invisible.”
“Nifty trick. But we’re still a couple of hundred feet up, how do we
get down there? Do you have some kind of transporter device like on
Star Trek?”
“No, nothing like that. Although it is a fascinating device. I did
some research on the series after you mentioned it earlier. Quite
innovative and entertaining for its time.”

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“When did you have time to do research? You’ve been talking to

me all this time.”
“I am cerebrally connected to my ship. I can launch any variety of
inquiries, even when I am speaking to you.”
“That’s convenient. But it still doesn’t answer the question of how
we get down.”
“We take the elevator, of course.”
“Of course,” JW said sarcastically. “And by elevator, you mean—?”
“A device that deposits us ground level while negating the force of
gravity a few meters before hitting the ground. Instead of cables to
slow us down, it is a force shield. The device places us on the ground
with such rapidity that our sudden appearance would not be detectible.”
“What are we waiting for then?” JW exclaimed, rubbing his hands
together. “Let’s go eat.”
“Perhaps a change of clothing would be in order.”
JW looked down. Until that moment, he had not truly registered the
fact that had been walking around in his underwear.
“Oh. I guess so, huh? Even though they’ve relaxed the dress code
in casinos over the years, I guess this is a little too relaxed. Do you
have anything I could wear?”
“Yes, but given that you are considerably taller than I, it might look
somewhat amusing. I will go down and purchase you something
appropriate to wear. I understand that they have some very good
apparel establishments.”
“I’ll say. Hey, do you need some money?”
“I have an adequate amount of local currency. I shall return
shortly.”
With that, the alien stepped to the center of the ship, a hole opened
on the floor underneath his feet, and just like that he was gone. By the
time JW spotted him several hundred feet below, he was already
walking through the side entrance of the Forum Shops.
After 30 minutes, JW was starting to get antsy, and increasingly
hungry, wondering what was taking so long. How long does it take to
pick out a pair of shorts, a shirt and some tennis shoes? Just then the
hole in the floor of the ship reappeared and so did the alien, holding
several shopping bags.
“Yo, dude. You didn’t have to go on a shopping spree. Shorts, shirt,

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shoes—that’s all I needed.”

“Those sales people can be quite persuasive. I was unsure which
outfits would be most appropriate so I asked for suggestions, and,
well—I did not want to disappoint those nice people. It is difficult for
me to believe that you are all of the same species. Most of you seem
quite nice and helpful.”
“We have our moments. Let’s see what you got.”
JW let out a low whistle as he pulled some of the clothes out of the
bags. “Armani, nice! I must say Yoda—you have good taste.”
“As I said, the sales people were rather helpful.”
“I’m sure. I bet they made a nice commission off you today. Are
you sure you can afford this?”
“If I need additional currency I will just create some more.”
“You can print money?”
“As much as is necessary for my current needs. I have no wish to
disrupt the local currency values.”
“Yeah, about that. Actually, no. We can discuss monetary policy
later. Let’s go eat.”
JW dressed quickly, deciding on the Armani suit without the tie.
Last minute he decided to make a fashion statement by wearing a pair
of what he thought were some very cool looking lime green running
shoes. The alien looked puzzled, but said nothing. Still, out of curiosity,
he decided to do a quick search through the ship’s database to see if he
could find anything that would indicate that JW’s outfit was the local
norm. He could not. Fascinating.
They stepped to the center of the circle. JW had a brief sensation of
falling, but before his mind could fully register it, his feet were firmly
planted on the sidewalk in front of Caesar’s Palace. They walked
through the casino to stand in a rather longish line to get into the world-
famous buffet. The alien was fascinated by the number of women who
used looks or body language to communicate their interest in
procreating with JW. Either he was very attractive by human standards
or his outfit signaled his vast superiority as a potential mate. Perhaps
the ship’s database was lacking in current human fashion convention.
They were led to a table by a window overlooking the massive
Caesar Ferris Wheel in the distance. JW didn’t bother to sit down. He
headed directly to the carving station, returning a few minutes later

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with a plate heaping with prime rib, ham, turkey, mash potatoes, gravy,
cranberry sauce; in short, a veritable Thanksgiving feast on a single
plate.
The alien had a difficult time hiding his revulsion and displeasure.
He got up and headed to the salad bar picking out a few items he
deemed acceptable for consumption and returned to the table. JW was
almost finished by the time the alien sat down.
“Hey, that’s a lot of greens you got there. I guess I should get some.
Could use some roughage, I guess.”
He was about to stand up and do just that, when a tall young
woman with silky dark hair walked up to the table and stood there with
her arms folded. JW looked up into a pair of beautiful green eyes
staring lasers at him.
“Hello creep,” the girl said acidly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

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 Chapter 27
Claremont, California: Near the Harvey Mudd Colleges

He was standing in the living room of a house he’d never seen

before. It was obvious no one had lived there for a long time. Cobwebs
covered the furniture. One window was shattered. A pair of birds was
nesting on wall shelving.
Cautiously, he took a step forward. His foot crunched through a
layer of dirt and dust, scattering several Pokémon and baseball cards
that lay on the wooden floor. The boards creaked underneath his feet.
“So, you made it back.”
Bryce spun around. The boy from his last dream was standing
behind him in the doorway of a bedroom.
He gave Bryce an appraising look. “I’m impressed. Your mind is
processing the information. You are definitely special, Bryce Costa.”
“You’re Jessica’s brother.”
The boy inclined his head. “Jessica? I never knew anyone of that
name I’m afraid.”
Bryce frowned. “What? But weren’t you—”
“Technicalities are irrelevant in any case. If you are here, then you
must listen.”
“Hang on just a minute,” Bryce interjected. “Who are you then?
What is this place?”
The boy shook his head. “Like I stated, technicalities are irrelevant.
Who I am, or who I was, are not critical aspects to the situation. As for
this place, it is merely a memory. Nothing more. If you truly want
answers, find the clues about what happened. If you can see how the
pieces fit together, perhaps there is still a chance. Without you, the
others will fail, and the world as you know it will end.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The answers will come. They will all be in front of you. You just
have to know where to look.”
The boy pulled the knife from his belt and pointed it at Bryce. “One
more thing. A lot of what you are going to see may be unbelievable.

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Implausible. But when you find yourself inclining to skepticism, ask

yourself this—what do you really know about the world around you? Is
your vision constrained? Is your belief system rigid and immutable?
Can you find it in yourself to look further, deeper? Or will you be
blinded like everyone else?”
Bryce shook his head. “I still don’t understand what you’re talking
about.”
“You will. I suggest you start by finding this place, or rather the
real one. Whether you see how this all fits together, is up to you.”
Before Bryce could respond, the boy dissolved into red mist that
swirled around Bryce like water. A howling wind swept through the
house, blowing the mist away, and ripping the house to pieces until
Bryce found himself standing alone in an endless black expanse.
From somewhere behind him, he thought he heard someone
laughing, and then that too faded into nothing.

:
“Yaaah!” Bryce yelled, and fell out of bed and onto the floor with a
thud.
“Jeez,” Kelly said, taking a step back. “Tired much?”
“Wha—?” Bryce said, staggering to his feet.
“You were having a nightmare,” Kelly said. “I couldn’t take
listening to you talk in your sleep anymore, so I came to check on you.
What were you dreaming about anyway?”
“I, uh, there wa—” Bryce stammered. “Nothing really, I guess.”
“Bryce, you’ve been acting even more whacked out than normal.
Have you been doing drugs?”
“Kelly,” Bryce said patiently, slowly feeling his composure coming
back. “You know I don’t do any of that crap. I don’t have the brain
cells to spare.”
“Whatever. Anyway, thought you’d like to know, lunch is ready. I
made fried rice.”
“Okay, that sounds good.”
“Thought you might like that. Wash up, it’ll be ready in five.” Kelly
walked out of the room.

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Kelly’s fried rice was as good as it smelled. Bryce devoured a

whole plate and went back for seconds. When he remembered to
breathe again, he managed to ask Kelly a question that was still on his
mind.
“So, Kelly,” he said casually, scooping another spoonful of fried
onions onto his plate. “Jessica’s brother. How much do you know about
him?”
Kelly shook her head. “Like I said, not a lot. And why are you so
interested in him anyway?”
Bryce shrugged, shoveling another forkful of rice into his mouth.
“It’s just that I always thought Jessica was an only child, and now I find
out she has a brother. Why didn’t she ever mention him?”
Kelly chewed thoughtfully. “Well, I think it’s because Jessica feels
she was his replacement.”
Bryce frowned. “His replacement?”
Kelly nodded. “Her brother died when he was seventeen. I don’t
know how, but I would guess it wasn’t natural causes. Obviously, it was
hard on her parents. So when they had Jessica, I get the impression she
was a disappointment because she was a girl. From the way Jessica
talks, they wanted another boy—to have what they had before.”
“That’s not right.”
“No,” Kelly agreed. “But people do strange things when they
grieve.”
Bryce took a moment to digest that. “What was his name?”
Kelly shook her head. “No idea. Jessica never told me.”
Bryce nodded noncommittally. None of that really told him what he
wanted to know, but then again, he really didn’t know what it was that
he wanted to know, and he didn’t want Kelly to feel like he was
interrogating her.
“Kelly,” he said abruptly. “You studied advanced philosophy and
metaphysics, right?”
Kelly looked startled. “Yes. Why?”
“How much do you know about dreams and things like that? Can
dreams affect you in real life?”
Kelly nodded slowly. “Possibly. It’s been speculated that dreams
are in fact alternate dimensions we somehow enter when we sleep.”
“How would that work?”

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“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”
“Okay, well first, when you sleep your body enters several stages.
The REM stage of sleep is where dreams occur most often and most
vividly. The most commonly accepted theory is the activation synthesis
theory. The idea is that dreams are caused by the random firing of
neurons in your cerebral cortex. Your brain tries to process these
stimuli, but because there is sometimes too much information, it can’t.
So your brain formulates a—story—to make sense of all that random
information. That’s why dreams are often so fragmented and strange.
That’s the simpler theory.”
“The more complicated theory deals with dreams from a more
metaphysical perspective. This guy…well, I forget his name…but
anyway, he hypothesized that dreams actually connect us to things that
have happened to us, just not in this life.”
“You lost me.”
“Okay,” Kelly continued, “it goes a little deeper than that. His idea
also stemmed from the belief that alternate universal dimensions
intersect with one another.”
“Still lost.”
“Bryce, think of the dimension we live in as a sheet of paper
floating in space. It contains our universe and everything in it, right?
Now, all other dimensions that exist lie parallel to ours, but they
resonate at different frequencies. Because they lie so close together,
when they touch, the collisions temporarily shed space-time causing
certain things to bleed between dimensions. That’s what people call
your eyes playing tricks on you. When you see something out of the
corner of your eye and the next thing it’s gone? That’s also where ghost
theories and paranormal phenomena things come from—images
coming through from alternate dimensions.”
Bryce shook his head. “I still don’t get it. What does this have to do
with dreams?”
“Think of this dimension as the prime universe. The prime universe
is where everything is normal and where the laws of physics apply, at
least as we understand them. All other dimensions are more than likely
created by decision-making. When you decide to go left instead of
right, eat a sandwich with cheese instead of peanut butter, that sort of

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thing. Over your lifetime, you literally create billions of alternate

realities, or universes, or realms, all linked to your prime reality. But
because they were created by you, they’re still you basically. When you
sleep and dream, you can sometimes slip temporarily into that reality
because it’s still you, just altered by different laws of physics. So, there
could be a reality where you’re rich and famous, one where you died
eating a bone when you were a baby and one where you’re a girl. There
are also realities where the physical laws of that reality allow you to
fly, or breathe water—it’s essentially all possible.”
Bryce considered that. “Could you enter other people’s realities?”
Kelly shrugged. “I suppose. I mean I assume you could, but it
would be a lot harder than slipping into your own reality. Remember,
this is all theoretical. But I would think it would be possible.”
Bryce was silent for a long time. As Kelly talked, a vague idea
started to take shape in the back of his mind. And he wasn’t sure he
liked it. “Kelly, where did Jessica’s family live?”
Kelly gave him a long look. “When her parents were young they
lived in Pasadena. Her father worked at Cal Tech. I know when they
had Jessica they moved across country to New York because her dad
got a job offer. Her brother lived in Pasadena, if that’s what you’re
asking.”
Bryce smiled. “I am.”
He pushed himself away from the table and stood up. “Thank you
for lunch Kelly, but I gotta run.”
Kelly looked surprised. “I thought you were staying?”
“Change of plans. There’s something I have to do. Can I borrow
your car?”
Kelly frowned at him. “What’s wrong with yours?”
“Broken down rental clunker with a busted mag-lev. I may need to
take a quick trip to visit Jessica.”
Kelly opened here mouth, and then shook her head. “I
thought…never mind, I don’t want to know. Fine, take the car. Just be
careful Bryce. You’re freaking me out with all this. Try to return it in
one piece.”
Bryce smiled but it felt forced, even to him. “I’ll try. But I’m not
making any promises.”

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 Chapter 28
Caesar’s Palace: Las Vegas, Nevada

“Jessica!” JW blurted out in surprise.

“Well, well, at least you remembered my name,” she said, arching
an eyebrow. “Strange, considering you never actually showed up to the
seminar, or made any attempt to meet me afterward. You know, social
norms dictate that if you’re going to stand someone up, at least call that
person and tell them some little white lie, like…oh, I don’t know, I was
in a car accident, for instance.”
“But I was in a car accident,” JW protested weakly.
“Are you serious? You can’t even come up with an original
excuse?”
“But miss, he truly was in an automobile accident,” David spoke
up.
Jessica whirled to face him. “And who the hell are you? Jiminy
Cricket?”
“No miss, my name is David. I’m his—”
“Doctor,” JW interjected quickly.
Jessica threw a green laser stare in David’s direction, but detecting
no sarcasm there, she returned her wrath toward the sheepish JW.
“Look, all I expected was a simple pho—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to his hand. “Wait, is
that cell regeneration therapy on your hand? You really were in an
accident!”
“I tried to explain—”
Ignoring him, she grabbed his hand, examining it carefully.
“This is remarkable, I had no idea they were this advanced in the
procedure,” she mumbled to herself, frowning and turning his hand
over and rolling up his sleeve. JW pulled his arm away, but she’d
already seen enough.
“What type of doctor did you say you were?” she asked, returning
her attention to David.
“I did not.”

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“You did not what?”

“I did not say I was a doctor.”
The laser-beam stare returned, boring into David’s eyes.
“I don’t know what kind of game you two are playing, buster,”
Jessica snapped, “but it’s not funny.”
“Miss, we are not playing buster. I simply answered your question.
You asked me what kind of doctor I said I was, but I did not say I was a
doctor—he did.”
“So, you’re not a doctor.”
“Not a medical one, no,” David said smoothly.
“But you are some type of doctor?”
“I have what would be the equivalent of a PhD, although we do not
call it that where I am from.”
“And where might that be?”
“Africa!” JW yelped, not liking where this conversation was
headed.
“That is not accurate JW,” David corrected, looking mildly
scandalized.
“Jessica, can you excuse us a second? “Yod—I mean, my doctor
and I need to speak privately.”
“I don’t think so,” Jessica said coldly. “Anyway, I’m no longer
interested in your lame excuses, since I no longer harbor the faintest
interest in socializing with you. What I am interested in is your arm.”
“Great, I just went from being persona-non-grata to a piece of lab
meat,” JW muttered.
“Look, I don’t know what you two are up to, but here is what I do
know. This isn’t a simple skin regeneration graft. This is a cellular
regeneration of an entire limb. I’ve only seen this in a 3D computer
simulation. But even if they had perfected the procedure, something
I’m pretty sure I would know about, the procedure takes months, not
days. They have to take your cells, culture them, then reprogram their
RNA—”
“We don’t need a microbiology lesson,” JW interrupted.
She ignored him and turned to David. “You never said what type of
African doctorate equivalent you had.”
“My main area of study was cultural anthropology,” he said,
standing with his hands clasped in front of him, his demeanor

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unruffled.
“Are you serious? I have a Bachelor’s in cultural anthropology, and
I’m just finishing my Master’s dissertation. Perhaps you’d like to read
it. My advisor is a schmuck.”
“I would be honored to read your work. However, I am not familiar
with that species—schmuck did you say?”
She raised her eyebrow. “I can’t decide if you’re extremely funny,
egregiously polite, or the king of schmucks.”
“I will consider that a high compliment.”
“Okay!” JW interrupted. “Since I seem to be in the middle of a
mutual admiration exchange, I think I’ll mosey on over to the dessert
bar and see what I can stuff my face with.”
With that, he walked over to a long table bearing a menagerie of
sugary delights whose mere sight and smell could send a diabetic to the
emergency room. JW grabbed a plate and piled on the éclairs, two
slices of pie topped with ice cream, chocolate covered strawberries then
finished off with an apple-filled crape topped with powdered sugar.
Jessica was talking to someone on her phone when he got back. She
stopped mid-sentence as JW placed his plate on the table.
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked incredulously.
“What? I’m craving something sweet, okay?”
Jessica just stared at him, completely speechless. Shaking her head,
she turned back to her phone conversation.
“I was afraid that might happen,” David commented.
“What’s that?” JW asked with a mouth full of apple pie.
“As your repairs near completion, your metabolic rate increases
exponentially.”
“Whatever you say, Yoda. All I know is that I’m starving.”
“Yoda?” Jessica asked incredulously, hanging up her phone.
JW blanched, color rushing into his cheeks, mind racing to come up
with an explanation but drawing a blank.
“A name of endearment that JW calls me,” David said.
“Endearing indeed,” Jessica said, giving JW a skeptical glance.
“So, Dr. Yoda, or David, or whatever the hell your name is, what do
you say you start explaining a few things to me. I would ask piglet over
there, but he seems rather busy gorging himself.”
“Hey!” JW protested in between mouthfuls. “Lay off me! Are you

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afraid I’m going to lose my girlish figure or something?”

“What is it that you would like to know?” David asked. “I will tell
you as much as I am able.”
“For starters, I’m pretty sure you’re not from Africa. Where are you
from?”
“That would require a lengthy explanation. I will let your friend JW
explain it to you at some later date.”
“Okay, first of all, he is not technically my friend, more like an
estranged acquaintance at this point. Secondly, the way he’s stuffing his
face, I might have grandchildren by the time he gets around to
explaining anything.”
JW looked up, his hand near his mouth, an eclair poised inches
from his lips.
“Wait, so we’re not even friends now? I told you I had a perfectly
good excuse for missing our date last night.”
“Right, the car accid—” Jessica stopped mid-sentence as she
realized JW had cleaned is plate. “There is no way you could have
finished all that.”
David stood up. “JW, perhaps it is time I returned to my ship while
you explain to this young lady what has transpired. Your repairs should
progress nicely and I do not anticipate any problems. Therefore, since
you no longer need my assistance, I will take my leave. I still have my
mission to accomplish and not much time in which to do it.”
“Hold it right there,” Jessica snapped, pointing a finger at David.
“Ship? Mission? You are so not going anywhere until you both give me
a reasonable explanation as to what—”
“Gentlemen, I hope Hurricane Jessica hasn’t rained too heavily on
your parade.”
Jessica turned to see her father approaching the table accompanied
by two seriously beat-up looking men, one in military fatigues, the
other in a guard’s uniform.
“Richard Bustos,” the director said, extending his hand in David’s
direction.
“I am David.”
“JW Duarte,” JW introduced himself gripping Bustos’ hand hard
enough to cause him to wince in pain.
“That’s the second time in the last 24 hours that someone has

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almost broken my hand while shaking it,” Bustos frowned. “Either I

have to stop shaking hands or I have to start hitting the gym again on a
regular basis. That’s quite a grip you’ve got there young man.”
“Pretty amazing for someone who was on his deathbed last night,”
Jessica remarked, throwing a scowl in JW’s direction.
“What do I have to do to convince you that I almost died last night?
When the power went out on the mag-lev, my car went flying off into
the desert. If it wasn’t for David here, I’d be dead.”
“Did you crash somewhere out near state-line?” the guard
interjected.
“Yeah, I guess it would have been somewhere near there. Why?”
“Because I saw the wreck on my way to work this morning. Man,
you are one lucky S.O.B. to be in one piece.”
“Like I said, I wouldn’t be except for David.”
“How fortuitous,” Jessica mumbled. “So, you really were in a car
wreck?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Behind the director, the soldier cleared his throat.
“I beg your pardon major, how rude of me. Major Lucas, this is my
daughter Jessica and her, um, friends, JW and David. Jessica and
friends, this is Major Philip Lucas, a member of my investigative team,
and his—associate—Wayne Teggs.”
“A pleasure everyone,” Wayne said, raising his good hand in an
awkward half-wave, half-salute.
“What happened to you?” Jessica asked running a critical eye over
Lucas. “You two look like you tangled with a really angry mountain
lion.”
“No, nothing like that—I was hiking and fell,” Major Lucas said,
maintaining eye contact.
“Your friend as well? You guys aren’t very good hikers then.”
Lucas smiled tightly. “No, I suppose we’re not.” He turned to the
director. “Sir, we really need get going. We have a great deal to
discuss.”
“You’re quite right. Jessica, you paid good money for the buffet
you really should eat something. I’ll call you once I wrap things up.”
Jessica realized she had been so busy talking she hadn’t eaten
anything at all.

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“Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’ll just grab a few things on my way
out,” she told him.
Bustos shook his head. “Only you would be brazen enough to ask
for a doggie bag at a buffet.”
Jessica tilted her head. “Hey, I just thought of something. How
about if I tag along and help you with your investigation?”
“Sorry Jess, I don’t think so. This is a federal investigation, not a
field trip. It could get very dangerous.”
“I presume the investigation you refer to concerns the event that
took place last night near Clark Mountain, yes?”
All heads turned to look at David.
The director eyed him suspiciously, as though seeing him for the
first time. “And exactly how would you know that?”
“My ship’s sensors detected it, but I was occupied with JW’s
treatment and have not been able to return and investigate the area
further.”
Behind David, JW was making circular motions with his index
finger next to his temple.
“I would be happy to share my findings with you,” David
continued. “I am, of course, assuming full reciprocity on your part.”
“Thank you for the offer David. Let me think about it. Now if you
will excuse us.”
With that, the director walked away with Lucas and Wayne, casting
a wary look back at the very strange man standing next to his daughter.

:
“So, David,” Jessica said, her voice uncharacteristically saccharine,
“tell me more about this ship of yours.”
“I would be happy to Jessica, but as I explained earlier, I do have
some work I need to finish up,” David responded.
“Well, I am an expert in cultural anthropology, so I might be of
some assistance to you. Besides, you did promise to read my work.”
“I did. Very well. I suppose JW should accompany us as well. Even
though I cannot conceive of a scenario where his continuing therapy
may go awry, I would be remiss if I did not follow his progress through

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to the end.”
“David, you are not actually contemplating taking her to the ship?”
“Why not? She makes a very compelling argument.”
“It’s one of my more endearing qualities,” Jessica interjected.
JW looked back and forth at the two of them, then rolled his eyes
and shrugged.
“Whatever. It’s your party, Yoda. Party on dude.”
“What’s with the whole Yoda thing?” Jessica asked.
“You’ll see.”
Jessica just shrugged and grabbed a few napkins off the table. On
the way out she filled them with different food items from the various
stations. The hostess started to approach her, but Jessica threw her a
glare. The hostess decided she didn’t want to have her day ruined and
returned to her station muttering under her breath.
They walked to the spot where the ship’s elevator had deposited
them earlier. David looked around to make sure no one was looking
directly at them.
“So, where’s this ship of yo—agggghhh!” Jessica screamed as the
elevator whisked them up to the ship. “Holy crap, what the hell was
that?”
“Welcome to my ship, Jessica.”
She looked around slack-jawed, then quickly grabbed the back of a
chair, panicking, as she realized there was nothing beneath her feet to
keep her from plunging to the ground far below.
“I am sorry, Jessica. I forgot that this can be a disquieting
experience.”
He went over to the control panel, waved his hand, and the sides of
the ship once again became opaque. “Better?”
Still quite pale, Jessica nodded her head, relaxing her death grip on
the chair, somewhat.
“Be careful what you wish for,” JW chuckled.
Jessica gave him a withering look.
“You think this is funny?” It was more of a warning than a
question, but JW ignored it.
“Yes, actually. The look on your face—priceless.”
“Yeah? Well you’ll have a priceless expression too when I rip off
your bal—” Jessica grabbed the chair again as the room started

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spinning. Her knees buckled and she slumped to the floor, dropping her
buffet bundle, which hit the ground with a splat.
Both David and JW rushed to her side with concerned looks.
“Miss Bustos, are you all right?”
“I…I think so,” Jessica answered weakly. “I just got really
lightheaded all of a sudden.”
JW looked around at the food strewn all over the floor.
“I bet you probably haven’t eaten anything all day. Here, have a
piece of sushi,” JW suggested, grabbing a couple of California rolls.
“Eew! Gross. Those were on the floor.”
“It is quite all right, the floors of this ship are quite sterile,” David
offered.
Jessica looked the rolls over carefully, then took a few bites.
“How come your floor is so clean?” she asked, gulping down the
sushi and reaching for a banana. “Do you have a cleaning lady fly in
from Venus every day?”
“That is quite unnecessary. The ship simply cleans itself.”
“Really? You have like robot cleaners or something?”
“That is also not necessary. The ship simply eats any microbial
organisms and harmful organic or chemical matter.”
Jessica stopped mid bite.
“Are you kidding me? You mean this ship is one giant anti-bacterial
wipe?”
“It has considerably more properties than that, but yes.”
“My god—an entire ship built with biotechnology. I have to take a
slice of this thing back with me. Do you have any idea what kind of
research I could do with this?”
“I imagine so, but taking a slice of my ship would not be possible.”
“Why not? Just a little slice? It wouldn’t hurt a bit.”
“Actually, it would.”
“Excuse me?”
“It would hurt my ship if you tried to slice it, and by extension,
me.”
“Are you saying this thing is alive?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“Sit back Jessica,” JW interrupted. “It’s a long story. You’re going
to love it.”

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 Chapter 29
Nouveau Paris Hotel, Las Vegas

“Are you sure your daughter is going to be okay with those two
whack jobs?”
“She can take care of herself, Mr. Teggs,” Bustos replied. “And I’m
not entirely sure they are whack jobs. In any case, they’ll be sorry if
they try to mess with her in any way—she’s far more capable than she
lets on. All right major, fill me in on the details.”
Lucas folded his arms. “I think you should let some of Arthur’s
team continue working on the mountain top, but you should have the
bulk of them start working at that plant. I believe they will have an
easier time accessing the interior of the mountain from below.”
“You believe those tunnels provide direct access inside the
mountain?”
“I’m certain of it,” Lucas replied. “Based on the telemetric data
from the shuttle, and by doing a few simple geometric calculations, I
believe those tunnels end approximately 1,500 feet straight down from
where you and I were standing last night.”
“Mr. Teggs, will you be able to give my team access to those
tunnels?”
“Well, of course,” came Wayne’s reply. “Anything I can do to help.
I can get you into the building and the mag-lev shuttle. Once I get you
to the top, however, I’m not sure if my authorization will allow me to
open the top doors.”
“Even if you can’t, it shouldn’t be much of a problem,” Lucas
mused. “Assuming those doors are as impregnable as the one on top of
the mountain. I believe the second tunnel may allow us access.”
“How’s that?”
“I believe it’s some kind of emergency tunnel with simple concrete
reinforcement,” explained Lucas.
“Yep,” Wayne agreed. “That’s exactly what it is. A few months ago,
there was some kind of accident, all kinds of alarms started going off.
Apparently when that happens, the primary tunnel completely shuts

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down. They had to evacuate the lab-coats through the secondary

tunnel.”
“If we go up that route,” Bustos hypothesized, “even if the door at
the top is made from that mysterious metal, we can simply tunnel under
or around it. Right through the concrete.”
“I’d be careful with that,” Wayne cautioned. “I told you what crazy
mothers these people are. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have
some nasty booby-trap surprise for anyone attempting that.”
“That’s a good point,” the Bustos murmured thoughtfully. “I’ll
make sure to warn Arthur to have his team do a sonic sweep before
they bore through the concrete.”
“Hopefully you’ll find some answers you’re looking for at the end
of the tunnel.
“Or we might just find a lot more questions,” Bustos said.
Lucas cracked his knuckles. “Director, with your permission, I
would like to go and investigate that Holo Photonics place. I have a
hunch they’re the key to this whole thing.”
“That’s an excellent idea, major,” he replied. “But please watch
your back. If they didn’t like a phone call, I seriously doubt they’ll
appreciate a knock on the front door.”
“You don’t need to worry Mr. Bustos,” Wayne spoke up. “I saw the
major in action today. He’s got all kinds of ninja moves. He can take
care of himself, for sure.”
“Ninja moves are a little below my pay grade Wayne,” Lucas said
wryly. “It’s just instinct.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. You can tell me to go pound dirt, but I’m
pretty sure you have some kind of Special Ops training.”
Bustos tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to ask you
about that myself. It seems a section was missing from your file.
Classified, I take it?”
“Highly. It’s a long story. Remind me to tell you about it someday.”
“I look forward to it,” Bustos told him.
“I knew it!” Wayne said excitedly. “Hot dog! Black ops stuff! I just
knew it.”
“You realize Wayne that you will have to keep all of this to
yourself?” Bustos asked quietly.
“Yes, sir. Not a problem there. The major here saved my life, so I

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owe him.”
“Nah, you don’t owe me anything,” Lucas declared. “By the way,
your family has already been relocated to a safe house by the FBI. As
soon as you help us gain access to the facility, I’ll have someone drive
you over there to be with them.”
Relief washed over his face.
“Well, I gotta say, some hugs and kisses from my kids and some
peace and quiet sounds pretty good right about now.”
There was a moment of silence.
“You seem rather pensive director, what’s on your mind?”
Bustos glanced up at Lucas in surprise. “I’m just thinking about
that odd fellow from the buffet. How did he know about the
mountain?”
“Do you think he’s involved?”
“Perhaps,” the director said thoughtfully. “There was something
about him that was a bit peculiar.”
“But he was also quite polite,” Wayne offered.
“Yes, he was that. I think what I felt from him was a certain…
serenity. Yes, that was it. He had a total peaceful feeling about him.”
“Now that you mention it, yeah,” Lucas muttered thoughtfully.
“Let me ask you something major.”
“What is it, sir?”
“When Arthur hypothesized last night that the material from that
door might be of extra-terrestrial origin, you didn’t even bat an eyelash.
Do you really think it’s possible? I thought you engineer types were
more grounded than that.”
“The way I look at it is simple math,” Major Lucas explained.
“There are about 100 billion stars in just our galaxy. There are perhaps
as many as 500 billion galaxies in the universe. Therefore, there are
potentially 50,000 billion, billion stars out there. To assume that life
only formed in one of those star systems, that to me would seem less
likely than the fact that we might have extra-terrestrial visitors.”
Lucas took a deep breath and looked out the window.
“Of course, having said that,” Lucas continued, “I am also, as you
said, an engineer. What I find problematic about the possibility of
extra-terrestrial visitations is the travel aspect. Travel, between even the
closest stars, would be difficult to accomplish—so we’d be talking

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about a species of being with a staggering level of technical prowess.

And whatever other races might exist out there, it’s highly unlikely that
one just happened to develop in our closest neighbor, Alpha Centauri.
And even if we assume for the sake of argument that there races out
there technologically advanced enough to travel here, why would they?
We live in a pretty unremarkable planet, orbiting a pretty unremarkable
star. I’m sure there are prettier places in the universe to vacation.”
“So, you don’t believe interstellar travel is possible?” Bustos asked.
“On the contrary,” Lucas corrected, “I know it’s possible. I’m just
saying that statistically the odds of there being a planet in our galaxy
inhabited not just with living beings but ones sophisticated enough to
defy the laws of physics—well, let’s just say those odds are pretty
slim.”
“Ah, but didn’t someone once say that laws were made to be
broken?” Bustos pressed.
“Human laws, perhaps. Nature is not so accommodating.”
“So yes, or no major? Could there be aliens visiting Earth?”
“Heck director, for all I know there could be aliens living on
Earth.”

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 Chapter 30
Luna Corp Observatory: Luna Base Alpha, Luna

Rick pulled the rover into the airlock at Luna Base Alpha. Once the
airlock door closed, he climbed out of the vehicle and removed his
space suit. The space suit was a safety precaution, eschewed by most of
the lunar residents, but not Rick. He didn’t care how safe and reliable
the rovers supposedly were. Machines had a way of breaking down.
Finding himself up a lunar landscape without a paddle, so to speak, was
not his idea of a rollicking good time.
Sarah took one look at his face and realized the news wasn’t good.
She was glad she hadn’t gone with him because she wasn’t sure she
could have stomached what was found. Besides, she had to stay and
make some repairs to try to get them off this rock.
“Anyone—?”
He just shook his head and looked at the floor. He tried to speak,
but words wouldn’t come out. He started to sob, slowly at first, then
uncontrollably. Sarah rushed to his side and held him gently until the
sobbing subsided.
“Christ, Sarah! It was awful. They were all dead. But the
expressions on their faces, contorted, mouths wide open. They were
terrified. To die slowly like that, as your air runs out, I can’t even
imagine.”
“You checked Beta and Gamma as well?”
“Yes. All dead. All I could do was cover them up and say a prayer.
Didn’t seem like enough.”
“I’m sure they would have appreciated it,” she said, feeling like an
idiot at how inadequate that sounded. They sat on the floor for a while,
just leaning against each other.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Rick said after a while. “I found a
bunch of emergency oxygen tanks. That should give us a few extra
hours.”
She gave him a big hug. “A few extra hours could make the
difference.”

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“Do you really think so? ‘Cause I don’t want to die like that. If it
doesn’t look like we’re going to make it, just give me a nice big shot of
morph and let me go quietly into that eternal sleep.”
Sarah elbowed him in the ribs.
“Don’t talk like that, big baby,” she chided. “You’re starting to
depress me. Let me show you what I’ve been up to while you were out
cruising Luna Boulevard.”
She led him to a workbench and showed him a gizmo he had never
seen before.
“It’s the best I could do out of the parts I was able to salvage.”
“Too small for a ship to get us out of here, so what is it?”
“It’s a modified CB radio.”
“CB radio—?”
“Short for Citizen’s Band. They used them in the later part of the
twentieth century for mobile communications before the advent of cell
phones and such. I think some truckers still use them. It’s some kind of
trucker thing.”
“A shortwave transmission device?”
“Correct.”
“Not to disparage your fine-looking device, but unless I
misunderstood my entire first semester of Physics 101, there is no way
you can generate enough power out of that thing to reach Earth.”
“Ah, but that is where you are wrong, my phobic friend,” Sarah
said with a sly grin. “You see, this is the new and improved Sarah-
5000-model CB radio. I have narrowed the transmission band so that
even a small amount of power will send a signal from this baby all the
way to that beautiful blue jewel we call Earth.”
“Interesting,” Rick said, mulling over the concept in his mind “So
it’d be like…the equivalent of a radio wave laser beam.”
“Precisely.”
“Not to rain on your parade, but I see a couple of problems here.”
“Only a couple?” Sarah asked, feigning surprise. “I must have built
a better gizmo than I thought.”
“With a beam that narrow, who’s going to hear and then demodulate
your signal? And assuming someone does, how are they going to get a
shuttle up here in time to save our sorry asses?”
“Okay Rick, so it’s a long shot. Unless you have some genius

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astrophysics trick up your sleeve, it’s all we got. Or shall I give you a
nice mega-dose of morph right now? You can crawl into a corner and
die, if that’s the way you want to go out.”
“No, not after what I saw at the other bases. Let’s give your gizmo a
chance,” Rick said, ignoring the question. “If it doesn’t work, at least
we tried. And for what it’s worth, if yours is the last face I see before I
go, it will be a nice image to take with me to eternity.”
Sarah searched is face for any sign of sarcasm, and saw none. She
smiled, and for the first time in a long time, tears came to her eyes and
traced their way down her face.

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 Chapter 31
14th Century Europe: London, 1349

Through the dirty window of his flat, Matt watched the subdued
activity of the London street below. Once, the streets would have been
filled with people and bustling with trade and business. But those days
were gone.
Matt watched a horse-drawn cart clatter across the cobblestone
street below, filled with bodies that had met their end at the hands of
the Black Death. Matt shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.
He had been 25 years old, recently wed and looking for a new life
when he first arrived in London. His life had been so full of hope.
Barely three months after he and his bride had arrived, the Black
Death ripped through Europe. For two years, Matt watched with alarm
and sadness as people around him died by the dozens. His wife was one
of the first casualties.
Looking back on it, he was thankful. She had died quickly, allowing
him the chance to give her a proper burial and funeral. Now, they
simply threw the dead into ditches and burned them, or tossed them in
rivers, anything to get the dead away from the living. Matt had never
seen so much horror. Not only were people dying, but Matt had
witnessed horrors much more terrible than death—things that he hoped
never to see again.
Unable to explain the cause of the Black Death, people were
turning to any explanation they could find, desperate in their fear and
pain to ascribe blame. Most recently, the Jews had been publicly
blamed for the epidemic, accused of poisoning wells with black magic.
Just this month, Matt heard that Jews in communities at Mainz and
Cologne had been attacked and murdered in so-called retribution. He
could only pray it was false, but he had seen too much death already to
believe otherwise.
And the accusations and outlandish theories continued to abound. A
group of radicals had declared that Black Death was the beginning of
the Rapture. Their logic was that only the wrath of the one true God’s
could deliver such terrible misery.

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Matt himself didn’t know what to believe. Sometimes he wondered

if he had died without knowing it, and gone to Hell. But in his heart, he
knew that he was alive, miserably alive. He didn’t know why he had
never gotten the disease that swept through the land, but he was
counting his blessings. He was one of the few healthy people left in
London.
Behind him, a low moan echoed through the flat. Matt turned
around. Nwarht was writhing on his cot, muttering feverishly in his
sleep. Matt pursed his lips. His friend had been sick for almost three
weeks now and Matt was amazed he was still alive. No one who caught
the Black Death lived longer than a week—and most were gone much
faster. But Nwarht was still alive, not getting any better, but not getting
any worse either. It was as if the plague couldn’t get a foothold in his
body.
Matt pulled his legs up to his chest and sank down to the floor. All
he could do was say a silent prayer for his friend. That was all anyone
could do now.

:
Nwarht dove aside, barely avoiding a beam that sliced through the
ground where he had been standing a moment before. Raising his
plasma gun, he fired, but his attacker was already gone. Behind him,
his battalion was under siege. Out of the five hundred soldiers who had
landed on the northern shore, less than 70 were still alive and fighting.
The infuriating part was that they were only fighting about 50 enemies,
and yet, impossibly, they were losing.
“Fall back!” he shouted to his remaining soldiers. “Draw them into
the mountains. They won’t be able to attack us as—”
A huge shape swooped down out of the sky. Before the battalion
could react, it dive-bombed them, scattering their already shaky
formation. With three screaming soldiers impaled on its lance-like
beak, it rose back into the sky.
Nwarht yelled with fury and fired, but the creature was already out
of range. Cursing, he signaled for his battalion to retreat. They charged
toward the rocky mountain outcrops where the creature couldn’t get to

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them.
The humans called the creatures Gaffs, which wasn’t the correct
name, but it didn’t matter. They were fast, they were dangerous and
they were under the control of the Scaeva. Worst of all, they hunted
using echolocation and other sonar systems to locate their prey. It was
virtually impossible to hide from them.
How the Scaeva controlled the monstrous flyers was a mystery to
Nwarht. It had quickly become clear that the Scaeva had a lot of things
under their control in this godforsaken land.
Another infuriating detail—until now, the humans had been
winning this war. The Scaeva hadn’t even been fighting back. They had
slaughtered them by the millions, exterminating half the planet.
Then, about two weeks ago, it was as if the natives had awoken
from a trance. As Nwarht’s battalion launched an attack against a
coastal village, the aliens counterattacked with such a vengeance that
only Nwarht and a few other soldiers escaped. The aliens suffered only
two casualties.
Now it was like that everywhere across the planet. As the humans
pushed forward, the Scaeva pushed back. The humans were losing
ground. They constantly flew in fresh troops and supplies, but the
Scaeva ability to reproduce and fight within a few days of being born,
were turning the tables on the war.
All of this flashed through Nwarht’s mind in less than a second. His
battalion had almost reached the rocks. If they found cover, they might
stand a chance. They were 50 feet away when the ground in front of
them blew up. The shock-wave knocked Nwarht off his feet. Through
the cloud of dust and debris, he saw seven large shapes rising out of the
ground.
“Incoming!” was all he had time to shout before the aliens opened
fire.
Immediately the air around him lit up with plasma blasts from the
humans and laser weapons from the Scaeva. Instead of trying to get to
his feet, Nwarht rolled over onto his back and blasted three Scaeva
floating above the battalion waiting to ambush them.
It was another aspect that made the aliens so hard to fight. They
could fly by using a huge inflatable sac attached to their exoskeleton
filled with a mixture of hydrogen and methane gas, which allowed

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them to float for short distances. Like the Gaffs, they could both see
and communicate by using sound waves. This gave them a huge
advantage when it came to coordinating attacks in combat.
For all practical purposes, Scaeva should be easy to kill—and yet, it
wasn’t easy at all. In theory, all you had to do was destroy the embryo
sack they carried, as this caused almost certain death. Unfortunately,
their exoskeletal structure was virtually impenetrable, allowing them to
easily defend themselves and their embryos. They also had a highly
decentralized nervous system. Other than the embryo sack, one would
have to slice up the entire creature, or pulverize it, in order to kill it.
Nwarht glanced over his shoulder. The dust from the explosion still
clouded the air. All he could see was the vague silhouettes of the aliens.
His men were excellent shots but, through the dust, they were virtually
shooting blind. The Scaeva weren’t so hindered by the lack of visibility.
Their echolocation allowed them to locate the enemy, whether they
could see the target or not. They were systematically taking down the
battalion one soldier at a time. Within minutes, Nwarht and all his
soldiers would be dead.
Nwarht’s mind furiously tried to process any course of action that
would allow them to escape. He could think of only one thing. It was a
long shot, but it was all he had. Rolling onto his stomach, Nwarht fired
his plasma gun, not at the Scaeva, but at the massive outcroppings of
rocks behind them. The outcroppings exploded, raining more debris
down over the battlefield. The Scaeva disappeared behind a new cloud
of dust. For a few moments, there was a lull in the fighting. Nwarht
held his breath.
A horrific shriek echoed through the canyon. Several shapes
emerged from the newly exposed caves that Nwarht had just blasted
into the side of the rocks. Roughly twice the size of humans,
Arrowheads were clambering down from the rocks, screeching and
hissing, obviously not pleased at having been disturbed.
Like the Gaffs, Arrowheads were one of the few animals still alive
and thriving on this harsh planet. However, unlike the other creatures
on this world, the Scaeva were unable to contain, control or
domesticate them.
Nwarht had observed them on his first day on the planet.
Arrowheads hunted in family packs, burrowing their way through rock,

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soil and virtually any other substance using a unique saliva mix
secreted from their tongues. They lived most of their lives
underground, only coming to the surface to hunt. They would hunt
anything they came across, using a combination of cooperative hunting
and strategic planning, which left Nwarht wondering if their sentience
level might be higher than it appeared.
The Arrowheads emerging from the rocks were as much of a threat
to Nwarht and his men as they were to the Scaeva. Their deceptive,
ungainly crawling was a front for an animal with lightning fast reflexes
and speed. Nwarht signaled for his men to freeze in place.
As the Arrowheads crawled out, a low-frequency hum filled the air.
Nwarht had come to know that sound all too well during his nine
months on this planet—the Scaeva warning call. The Arrowheads
reacted instantly, rearing up from their four-legged crawl, tucking their
long forearms into their bodies and charging forward with bipedal
locomotion toward the mass of Scaeva flanking Nwarht’s troops.
“Go now!” Nwarht yelled to his remaining troops. The battalion
broke into a run for the canyon. Behind them, the air filled with battle
cries as the natives of the planet fought each other to a bloody
standstill.

:
Nwarht sat bolt upright, his face and body drenched in sweat. Matt
jumped back startled, afraid that his friend had died only to revive as
some demonic beast. The look in his eyes was certainly indicative of
that possibility.
“Are you all right?” Matt stammered.
Nwarht stared at him with a look that caused Matt to shrink farther
into the corner. Nwarht’s eye’s softened as he realized where he was.
“No, my friend, I am definitely not all right. At last, I’ve remembered!
It’s all come back—who I am and where I came from. I know who is
responsible for the atrocities perpetrated on me—on us. I’m not sure
how, yet, but they will pay for this.”
The demonic look had returned to his face and Matt suddenly
wanted to be very far away from this person, or thing, that he had once
considered a friend.

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 Chapter 32
Pasadena, California

Bryce eyed the lonely house with more than a little trepidation.
Kelly had given him the address and he’d set out to find it, though he
had no idea what he would find. He certainly had not expected the
property to look like this. He didn’t even know places like this existed
in Pasadena.
The house sat in the middle of a dead field of brown grass. The
walls were overgrown with a mass of vines and most of the paint had
peeled off. It looked as if it had been abandoned for a hundred years,
not twenty. Just looking at the structure made Bryce’s skin crawl. If
there was ever a place where ghosts existed, this was it.
Taking a deep breath, Bryce stepped onto the porch. The boards
creaked beneath his feet. The doorknob was gone. Thankfully, the door
itself was loose and Bryce managed to push it in.
The inside looked even worse than outside. A layer of dust covered
everything. A large rat squeaked at him and scuttled away under the
couch. Bryce bent down and picked a mangled book up off the floor. It
looked as if it had been bitten in half. Grimacing, Bryce dropped it and
wiped his hands on his jeans. Everything about this place felt wrong.
What happened here? he wondered.
He walked into the living room. His foot crunched through a layer
of dirt and dust, scattering several Pokémon and baseball cards on the
wooden floor. The boards creaked ominously beneath his feet.
Bryce froze, every hair on his neck standing on end. This was
exactly where he had seen himself in the dream.
It’s the same house, Bryce realized with a shudder. Involuntarily he
turned around, half expecting to see Jessica’s brother standing there,
but there was nothing except the dark doorway of a bedroom.
Bryce took a step forward and then stopped. Suddenly, standing
there in the ruined remains of Jessica’s family house, he felt ridiculous.
He’d felt so sure that coming here would provide some clues to all the
weirdness that had so suddenly engulfed his simple existence. Now, it

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just felt silly and childish. He wasn’t a detective and this wasn’t some
cheap thriller drama. There was nothing here but a dead house, dead
memories and probably, with his luck, dead bodies. Right now, all he
wanted to do was get drunk and forget about this craziness.
He was about to leave when a dull thud echoed through the house.
He froze. His hair stood straight up again. Another thud coming
from one of the rooms. Any other time, Bryce would have run out of
the house as fast as he could, but for some reason, his mind told him
not to. There was something alive in this dead house—or, something
dead in this dead house.
Probably hungry for my brains, he thought with grim humor.
Against his better judgment, he stepped through the doorway of a
bedroom. It was almost too dark to see. A boarded-up window blocked
most of the sunlight, but Bryce’s eyes quickly adjusted. Through the
dusty film of light, he made out a large bunk-bed in one corner, a half-
destroyed desk in the other and small couch in the middle, underneath
the window.
And sitting on the back of the couch was a large black cat.
Bryce breathed a silent sigh of relief.
The cat regarded him with huge yellow eyes. “Mrow?”
“It’s okay kitty,” Bryce said walking over slowly. The cat was old
but looked quite healthy and well fed. With the size of the rats in this
place, Bryce wasn’t surprised. “Who’s a good cat?” he asked holding
out his hand.
The cat sniffed his hand, yawned and lazily batted at a loose board
on the window. A dull thud echoed.
Bryce smiled, looking around the room. It was pretty bare. A few
more trading cards lay on the floor and an antique LEGO set lay in
pieces on a dresser. Frowning thoughtfully, Bryce walked over to the
closet and pulled it open.
A deluge of boxes knocked him to the floor with a crash. The cat
screeched and jumped onto the top bunk of the bed.
Coughing and blinking the dust from his eyes, Bryce pushed the
boxes off him. A huge cobweb was stuck on his face.
“God, that’s just wrong,” Bryce grumbled, pulling several threads
out of his mouth. As he shoved the last of the boxes off him, something
caught his eye. A stack of papers had fallen out of one of the boxes. He

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saw several diagrams for some weird looking devices. He picked a

couple up and examined them. Scrawled across the top:

Details on China’s Nuclear Weapons

Construction and Weak Points

“This has got to be illegal,” Bryce murmured. He picked up another

paper. To his surprise, it was a picture of a man crossing a street. The
photo was out of focus, as if it had been taken in a hurry. Something
was scribbled across the page in harsh handwriting. Bryce squinted and
barely made it out:

WhO Is THIs mAn??

“Well that’s not disturbing at all,” Bryce muttered. Putting the

picture down, he began rummaging through the rest of the boxes and
papers. None of them contained much of interest. The rest of the papers
were too complicated for him to understand and most of the boxes were
empty or contained miscellaneous items like clothes. A couple of the
shirts had initials stitched on them: PB.
Peanut butter? Bryce wondered. Shrugging, he tossed them aside.
After a good half hour, he gave up. There was nothing else of
interest here. Stretching his arms, he accidentally hit a picture of some
type of symbol, possibly Asian in origin, hanging on the wall. Instead
of a thud, it made a hollow echo.
Bryce frowned. Feeling around the edges of the picture his fingers
found a small latch. He pressed it and had to jump out of the way as the
picture swung outward, revealing a small passage in the wall with a
ladder at the end going up into the ceiling.
“Cool!” Bryce grinned. He had to try twice before he managed to
squeeze himself into the passage; he barely fit. Trying not to hit his
head, he crawled to the end of the passage and began climbing the
ladder.
Ten rungs up, the ladder ended at a trapdoor. After a good shove, it
opened and Bryce hauled himself up into a small attic room.
The only furniture consisted of a round wooden table and a stool. A
tiny skylight let a meager stream of sunlight in. What got Bryce’s

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attention was the mass of photographs plastered up all over the walls
with lines and notes connecting all of them. It looked like a massive
spider web of pictures.
“Holy—” Bryce muttered. The pictures were mostly of military
looking people in various locations. Notations of names, rank and other
information were scribbled on several of them. A few were of
seemingly random buildings—grain silos, factory warehouses and
shipping docks. Still others were newspaper clippings detailing
suspicious murders, break-ins and heists.
Bryce suddenly felt his hands grow clammy. In one corner were
several pictures of a woman in green. He froze. It was the same woman
who had tried to kill him at Victoria Gardens.
A name was written on one of her pictures:

OSaKA

Bryce shivered. This was freaking him out. Now this did feel like a
cheap crime movie where a psychotic stalker posted up pictures of all
his victims.
But what was really disturbing were the dozens of pictures like the
one he’d found in the bedroom below; fuzzy, unclear photos of a man.
Disturbing notations were written above them.

He Is StAlkiNg us
FoLLoWeD mE HoMe fROm ScHool YesTErDay
Does He Know?
What DOEs hE wAnt?

In the middle of the pictures, was a photograph of a large lake with

one bold word typed in red:

LEGACY

“Weird,” Bryce murmured. It seemed out of place with the rest of

this, but then this whole thing was weird. How had he gone from
having an alcohol-enhanced good time at the Luxor, to a house full of
ghosts with creepy writing all over the wall? Well, okay, no ghosts yet,

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but just give it time. It all started with that stupid power outage last
night.
The largest picture was of a middle-aged man that Bryce
recognized as Jessica’s father. He was standing with a pretty Asian
woman in front of a statue in a park. They were holding hands and
smiling. It was obviously a happy time for them. A large red circle had
been drawn around a man sitting casually on a park bench in the
background of the photo. He was too far away for his face to be seen
clearly, but it looked like he was looking straight at the camera. A note
had been written across the top. It made Bryce’s skin crawl:

?moM iS in DanGEr??

Bryce’s heart was beating so fast he could feel the pulse throbbing
in his head.
This is all the brother’s work. Bryce realized. Someone was stalking
the boy’s family and he was trying to figure it out.
But on consideration, Bryce found it hard to believe that a normal
teenager could have gone to these lengths to solve a stalker problem.
He would have just called the police, or simply told his parents.
Why go to all this trouble, why all the secrecy? Bryce wondered
uneasily. And why did he feel like he had to do this? Did he fancy
himself an amateur sleuth, or was he just crazy?
His eyes drifted to the lone table in the middle of the room. On it
was something he hadn’t noticed before—an antique digital camera.
Bryce examined the camera. It looked as if it hadn’t been used in
decades. Oddly, it wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like the rest of
the room. Bryce pushed the power button. Nothing. He pushed the link
button on his wrist phone, on the off-chance that this relic might have a
power link app. To his shock, the camera clicked and the screen lit up.
After a moment’s hesitation, not sure what he was going to find,
Bryce began clicking through the pictures. Instead of pictures like the
ones on the wall, the camera had a completely different inventory.
There were pictures of Jessica’s brother, sitting on the couch and
playing video games with another guy. Several were of the house back
when it was new. One was of a woman, presumably the mother, putting
up Christmas decorations and trying to hide her face with a strand of

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garland. A dozen others showed Jessica’s brother with his arms around
an attractive blond girl. His girlfriend? There were shots of the family
at barbecues and dinner parties with a bunch of family members.
This family looked so happy. Bryce thought. It almost made him
sad. What happened?
He put the camera back down on the table and looked around again.
He still couldn’t figure out what all of this meant. None of it made
sense. Everything he’d found raised more questions than it answered.
Had the guy in the pictures killed the brother? If so, what where his
motives? Could it really be a coincidence that there was a picture here
of the woman who had just tried to kill Bryce? And there was another
disturbing detail, but also one that didn’t make sense. If Jessica’s
brother had died before Jessica was born, the woman would be 25 years
older by now. Yet, when Bryce looked into her cold black eyes, she
looked like she hadn’t aged a day from the time the picture was taken.
And, the biggest question of all—what does all this mean? Bryce
couldn’t imagine what the point of this had been or even what it meant.
Obviously, the brother had been worried about someone stalking his
family. But if he was dead, did that mean the rest of Jessica’s family
didn’t know about any of this?
Too many questions, and not enough answers.
But there was one thing Bryce was sure of. Something about
Jessica’s family interested someone else. Which could mean….
“Great,” Bryce muttered. “She’s probably in danger.”

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 Chapter 33
300 feet above Las Vegas, Nevada

“I knew it!” Jessica blurted out.

David had just about finished reciting a condensed version of his
tale. Until now, Jessica had listened attentively and quietly, without
interruption. Her sudden outburst startled both David and JW.
“You knew what?”
“I knew homo-sapiens were not of this planet.”
“You mean you already knew about this?” JW asked dubiously.
“Not the specifics, no. I just didn’t see enough physical connection
between us and pre-humans. In addition, our civilization and
technology developed at levels that were unprecedented in Earth’s
evolutionary history. From caves to space in 30,000 years, in a world
that has been evolving for over three billion years—yeah, I don’t think
so. Heck, if that were the case, formicidae, who have been around for
around 100,000,000 years, should have colonized the solar system over
90,000,000 years ago.”
“Formicidae?” JW asked in bewilderment.
“Yes, formicidae. Ants.”
“Oh, of course, but what the heck do ants have to do with any of
this?”
“Their intelligence and societal structure is as advanced as humans,
and has been for millions of years,” Jessica said, knotting her hair
around itself to pull it back from her face as she began pacing. “In fact,
I would argue that with their superior strength, engineering and
architectural capabilities, and tightly knit societal structure, they are far
superior to humans. No species can hold a candle to the ants’ genius for
colonization. Forget Moon and Mars, the darned little things should
have colonized half the galaxy by now.”
“Opposable thumbs,” JW muttered under his breath.
“What?” Jessica asked, irritated at the inaudible interruption.
“They never developed opposable thumbs. Pretty hard to build a
spaceship without tools and it’s pretty hard to hold tools without

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opposable thumbs.”
Jessica looked at JW with renewed interest.
“That’s pretty insightful for a computer geek.”
“Thanks. I think. I just wanted to put the brakes on you before you
blew a brain gasket.”
“Well, ants have six legs and can manipulate and carry objects with
their mandibles, so what do they need with opposable thumbs?
Anyway, my point is that no creature in the Earth’s four odd billion
years of history has ever evolved with the rapidity of the human
species; not even close. Ergo, humans are not indigenous to Earth. At
least that’s the thesis of my paper. I have about a thousand pages of
data to support that thesis.”
That stopped JW short.
“You wrote a thousand-page dissertation?”
“Give or take,” she said with a shrug.
This time it was JW’s turn to stare in amazement. He was starting to
wonder if maybe she wasn’t human, but part of some other species that
had invaded Earth. Wouldn’t be any weirder than anything else he had
learned in the last 24 hours.
“I would still very much like to read that paper, Miss Bustos,”
David spoke up. “It sounds quite interesting.”
“Sure. I have it saved on my phone. I can upload it to your system,
can’t I?”
“That is possible, but somewhat problematic.”
“Why? You’re a super advanced alien race and you can’t upload a
small digital file?” Jessica pressed.
“Well yes, of course. It will just take a while. As I explained, most
of our technology is organic in nature. Most of our systems are analog,
not digital. I would have to figure out a way to demodulate the
information to analog, before I could upload it to my system.”
“You don’t have some way to speed it up?”
“Sadly—”
“Hey, I just had an idea,” JW interrupted.
“Please share.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about retrieving Gertrude from my car.”
“I do not recall there being anyone else in the car with you,” David
said, a sudden look of concern on his face.

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“She’s not a person, David. She’s my car’s onboard computer

system, which I…modified slightly. I wanted more direct control of the
car’s functions.”
“Let me guess, like the car’s automatic switchover from mag-lev to
AWD?” Jessica commented with an ‘I-can’t-believe-you-did-that’
expression.
“Okay, so that wasn’t a Phi Beta Kappa move, but I did make her
much more personable.”
“I’m sure that would have been a great comfort to your family
when the CHP showed up at their door. I can just hear the conversation:
‘Mr. and Mrs. Duarte, we regret to inform you that your son is
splattered all over the desert and we’re still trying to recover all his
body parts. But on the bright side, his car told us some really funny
jokes.’”
“Gerty.”
“What?”
“I call her Gerty. Anyway, my point is that with David’s help, I
might be able to integrate Gerty with the ship’s system. Not only could
you instantly upload your paper, but more importantly, David could
obtain complete access to the net. That would be a great help to David
with his search.”
“Do you even know where your car is now?”
“No, but if you let me borrow your MiWatch, I can find out.”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.
“You know what I keep thinking?” Jessica commented to no one in
particular, as she handed JW her phone. “We really should contact my
father and fill him in on what we know.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Oh yeah. Great idea Jessica.” JW finally said. “The next thing we
know—David here will be in Area 51 being treated like a frog in a
tenth-grade biology class.”
“My father wouldn’t do that,” Jessica protested.
“Look Jessica, I’m sure you love your father, he’s a great human
being and all of that, but the bottom line is that no matter how high up
he is, he still has to answer to someone. I doubt this is the kind of
information he would be able to keep secret, given the circumstances.”
Jessica sat thoughtfully in silence for a while. “You’re probably

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right. My dad is a pretty by-the-book type of guy. But I’m thinking that
maybe Major Lucas might be able to help us.”
“Why exactly would he be any different from your father?”
“I’m not sure. It’s just a gut feeling. Did you see how physically
messed up the guy was?”
“Yeah, he looked like he’d gone through a meat grinder.”
“Probably in a lot of pain, right? But was he showing even the
slightest hint of it?”
JW shrugged.
“I don’t really know. Didn’t think much about it until now. But now
that you mention it, the other guy with him seemed to have fewer
injuries and you could tell he was in some discomfort. But, what’s your
point?”
“One thing I know about my father is that he has a knack for
picking just the right people for the job. Something tells me that this
Major Lucas is someone with, um…special skills.”
“Like a commando type?”
“Something like that,” she said, waving her hand as if to brush the
specifics away. “My point is that these types not only have a great pain
threshold, they are also usually given a great deal of leeway and
autonomy. If we were to fill him in, he might not go directly to my
father. His goal would be to gather as much information as possible and
complete his assignment as expeditiously as possible without breaking
any laws. As far as I know there are no laws that say you have to turn
extra-terrestrials in to the authorities.”
“You’re making a great many assumptions based on a hunch,
Jessica,” JW warned.
“That may be, but my hunches are usually right.”
“What do you think, David?” JW asked.
David, who had been silently listening to and observing their
interaction, didn’t respond right away.
“Earth to David.”
“My apologies, Ms. Bustos. I was simultaneous attempting to take
in your conversation and run various simulations through my ship’s
system.”
“You mean you’re actually physically linked to your ship in real
time? That is very cool. I’ve been thinking about trying one of those

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new direct computer links I’ve read about. I could improve my research
by about a thousand percent if I was directly linked to the net.”
“Trust me Jessica, you do not want to do that,” JW warned.
“They’ve kept it quiet, but there have already been a couple of deaths
and about four or five people who underwent that procedure are
permanent veggies now. Seems that they were victims of a nasty
feedback loop that the human brain doesn’t handle so well. Doesn’t
seem to be a problem in test rats or other primates, but humans, well—”
“That’s terrible! I didn’t know that.”
“That’s why you’re the microbio… anthrowathever…and I’m the
computer geek.”
“It makes sense, of course,” Jessica said, her eyes focused on a
random spot in the air as she thought. “After having learned about our
true biology, it makes sense that creatures indigenous to Earth would
react differently to various stimuli. It also explains many of the
historical lab experiment inconsistencies of tests that should have
worked on humans but did not. Huh, I just came up with a new thesis
subject.”
“Fascinating,” JW replied sarcastically. “But David, you never
answered the question. Do you think we should involve Major Lucas?”
“To be perfectly honest, my desire is to not involve any of you. Our
quarry is extremely dangerous and would not hesitate to kill any of
you, any of us, instantly. The fact that he is prepared to destroy two
entire civilizations should be ample proof of that. However, since you
are already involved, and I suspect there is very little I can do to
dissuade you from participating, I welcome any assistance you can
provide. Given the accuracy of Ms. Bustos’s gut feelings so far, I am
inclined go along with her assessment of the Major Lucas as well as her
estimation of his likely course of action.”
Jessica was looking at David with a questioning look.
“I am sorry, Ms. Bustos. Was my answer lacking clarity?”
“No, it was quite concise. What’s bothering me is that it almost
seems as though you know who your quarry is.”
“I believe that I do. If I am correct, he is more dangerous that you
can even imagine. A particularly odious human by the name of Nwarht
Va.”
“Wait a minute,” JW said. “I’ve heard you mention that name

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before. Wasn’t he the guy who led the humans against the Scaeva?”
“Yes. He was the commander of the human army.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jessica said. “If you know who this guy is,
just go find him and vaporize him with a death ray or something.”
“Jessica, you apparently missed the gist of what David is all about.
First of all, he doesn’t have a death ray.”
JW paused. “Or do you, David? Cause that would be really
awesome.”
“No. I am afraid that I do not.”
“Didn’t think so,” JW said, disappointment evident on his face.
“Anyway, even if he did have one, he wouldn’t be able to use it. He
can’t kill anyone. He can’t even hurt someone.”
“Okay, I get that, but if David knows who it is, he should…he
should. Actually, David, what is your plan of action?”
“Miss Bustos, although I believe I know who is attempting to
destroy our respective worlds, I am not a hundred percent certain.
Furthermore, assuming that I am correct in my assessment, your planet
has over ten billion inhabitants, plus several thousand more on Luna
and Mars. Attempting to find a single individual is a daunting and time
consuming task. In addition, although I have an image of his likeness, I
am fairly certain that he has altered his basic appearance, making
identification even more difficult. However, I am quite confident I can
locate him.”
“And then what?”
“I will attempt to negotiate with him to convince him not to
continue with his plan. As I believe that I am the target of his wrath, I
will offer myself and my life in exchange for his not going through
with his vendetta.”
“That’s your plan?” Jessica asked with barely contained outrage.
“To talk to him and offer yourself up as sacrifice? David, that’s
extremely noble, and it’s also extremely, incredibly, blatantly naïve. He
will simply kill you and then still turn this place into radioactive dust.”
“Yes, Miss Bustos, I know. I am certain he will kill me. In fact, I am
counting on it.”
Jessica and JW looked at each other, then they looked at David like
he had flown his spaceship through one too many quasars and suffered
severe gamma radiation-induced brain damage.

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“Would you care to elaborate?” JW ventured into the silence.

“Of course. As I stated, I am quite certain that my attempts to
dissuade him will fail, but nevertheless I must attempt it. He will then
certainly kill me. That shall be his demise.”
“What? He’s going to grow a conscience after he kills you and die
of remorse?” Jessica snorted.
“No, Miss Bustos, I do not believe that would happen. It is
irrelevant in any case as he will perish within minutes of killing me.”
“How can you be so sure?” JW asked, suddenly very interested in
what David had in mind.
“There is a plant on my planet which we occasionally ingest. It has
very little nutritional value but its taste is quite pleasant and chewing
the plant is relaxing—similar to your chewing gum. Although the plant
is quite harmless to us, it is highly toxic to humans. We discovered this
quite by accident when some of our early…creations, tried to relax by
ingesting some of these plants. They died within minutes. In fact, the
plant is so toxic to humans that when others came to see what had
happened, they too died within a few minutes of coming in contact with
the first victim. It seems that the plant triggers a lethal reaction at the
cellular level. The result is almost instantaneous death. Another sad
chapter in our human creation saga.”
“So, you plan on ingesting this stuff and then have his own violence
against you kill him, without you having to do violence against him?
Deviously elegant,” Jessica nodded. “I approve.”
JW glared at her. She started to glare back, then suddenly took his
meaning.
“Wait, what am I saying? No, I don’t approve,” Jessica added
hastily. “We can’t let him kill you. There has to be another way.”
“Miss Bustos, I have lived a very, very long time. For the last
30,000 years, life for me has been almost unbearable. Not only will I
willingly give my life to save both of our worlds, but I will finally be at
peace.”
“However, there is still the small matter of finding him,” JW
interrupted, suddenly uncomfortable with the topic. “Plus, what makes
you believe he will be close enough to you when he kills you to be
exposed to the toxin? For all you know, he shoots you from across the
room as soon as he lays eyes on you, or he has some crony kill you.”

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“I do not believe so, JW,” David said. “He will want to kill me
personally, and he will want to do it up close with some type of knife or
his bare hands. He wants to feel my blood on his hands and he wants to
see my eyes as the life drains from them. It is part of who he is—of
that, I have little doubt. It is those very same characteristics that make
me believe, out of any of the humans, he would have been the one to
survive to this day in order to exact his revenge for what he perceives
as wrongdoings.”
There was a moment of silence as the two humans digested that.
“Did you say you had a picture of him?”
“Yes.” David walked over to the control panel. A life-sized image
projected on the ship’s skin. It showed a somewhat handsome youngish
male of above average height and thinly built.
“Rather unremarkable,” Jessica commented.
“Perhaps in appearance Miss Bustos, but do not be deceived. He is
a formidable opponent.”
Jessica stared at the image for a while. She did not recognize the
face, but something about him seemed familiar. Then, just like that,
whatever was there was gone. She shook it off.
“David, JW and I need a moment alone.”
“By all means. There is some ship maintenance business that
requires my attention.”
Jessica pulled JW aside. “We’re not really going to let him sacrifice
himself, are we?”
“Of course not,” JW said emphatically. “I’m not a hundred percent
sure yet, but when the time comes I might be able to do something to
stop this Wart guy.”
“Nwarht.”
“Whatever. The point is, I think I’ll be able to take him.”
“What, suddenly you’re a superhero?”
“Hardly,” JW said, his cheeks coloring for reasons that escaped
him. “But I can feel myself getting faster and stronger all the time.”
“I’m not following, JW.”
“Remember earlier when I shook your dad’s hand?”
“Sure, he said you almost broke it. Hadn’t thought about it, but now
that you mention it that is kind of weird. My father is no weakling and
he does have a pretty good grip.”

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“I know, I could feel it,” JW agreed. “But I wasn’t even trying to

shake his hand that hard.”
“Are you telling me that David’s cure is already augmenting your
musculature?”
“Yep. Cool, huh?”
“It’s more than cool, it’s awesome. I think I want to marry you just
so I can have full rights to your body parts. The things that I could
learn.”
JW feigned a look of shock and dismay.
“I’m sorry, but that just sounded wrong,” he said. “Kinda like a
praying mantis.”
“I don’t want to eat you—just study you.”
“Oh. Yeah, you know what? Still sounds wrong.”
“Come on, JW, don’t be such a scrooge. I just want some tissue
samples and maybe a brief dissection, if necessary,” she said, laughing.
JW laughed too, despite the chill running up his spine.
“Uh, sure. Maybe later. Right now, though, I want to get my
Gertrude back and get on with finding this Wart guy. Judging from
David’s demeanor, I think we may be running out of time.”
“Let’s get in touch with Lucas,” Jessica said, her demeanor once
again no-nonsense. “We’ll tell him what we know and go from there.”
“That’s what I like, a well-detailed and thought out plan.”
“You got any better?”
JW smiled sheepishly. “No, guess not.”
“My plan does have one flaw, though.”
“Just one?”
“Yeah. How do we find Major Lucas?”

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The director absently tapped his fingers on the window of his hotel
room, trying to focus his thoughts as he stared blankly at the Las Vegas
skyline stretching endlessly into the barren desert. Major Lucas had left
several hours ago to take Wayne Teggs to the safe house and then to
investigate the holographic company. Arthur and his team were still
combing the mountain and the tunnels below for clues and evidence.
Taking his MiS out of his briefcase, he pulled up the contact for REC
coalition. Before he had a chance to make the call, his phone buzzed
and Jessica’s face came up.
“Two phone conversations and an in-person encounter on the same
day! I must have done something to please the man upstairs.”
“Hello to you too, Dad.”
“So, what can I do for my lovely daughter?”
“You can tell me where to find Major Lucas.”
The director raised his eyebrow. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because he’s gorgeous and I want to ask him out on a date?”
“That would have sounded much more convincing if it hadn’t come
out sounding like a question. And the fact that he’s about twenty years
older than you.”
“Okay, you got me,” Jessica conceded. “How about I have some
important information about your investigation?”
“In that case, you can just tell me.”
“Can’t, you’re too by-the-book. If I tell you, it might actually
hamper the investigation.”
“I think that’s up to me to decide, don’t you think? And what makes
you think the major isn’t a by-the-book type?”
“I’m sure he is Dad, but I have a feeling it’s a different book.
You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
Bustos considered his daughter’s request. He could tell he wasn’t
going to get anywhere arguing with her. He could also tell she was
being sincere.
“All right Jessica, you win, but this is not a game. You may be
incredibly smart, but you’re also very young and naïve. You’ve spent

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most of your 23 years with your nose buried in books, tablets and
computers and not enough time learning about the real world. These
people we’re looking for are beyond dangerous. So, get in touch with
Major Lucas, tell him what you know and go back to your books. Let
him take it from there. You got me?”
“I understand. Believe me, I know exactly what type of people they
are. So, that goes for you too Dad. You be careful, because they are
even more dangerous than you even know.”
“I’m not even going to ask, Jessica. I’m texting the number now.
Don’t forget what I told you.”
“Yes sir. Contact Major Lucas, back to the books. Got it. Love you.
Bye.”
The director stood there looking at the blank screen for a long time,
wondering if history could possibly be repeating itself.

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 Chapter 35

To describe the Holo Photonics Corporation lobby as opulent would

be a severe understatement. Marble floors, Roman columns, intricate
stained glass windows and rare works of art hanging on the walls were
just a few of the ostentatious touches. Lucas took note of all these
surroundings as he walked up to the reception desk. The receptionist, a
very attractive twenty-something, flashed him a dazzling smile. She
was sitting behind a rich mahogany leather-topped desk.
“Hello. Welcome to Holo Photonics. How can I help you?” she
asked cheerfully.
“Hi there. Wow, that is a beautiful desk. Is that solid mahogany?”
The receptionist smiled a ‘gotcha’ smile.
“Nope, it’s actually cheap plastic. See?”
She touched something under the desk and it shimmered briefly,
before being replaced by a rather unimpressive fixture made of some
acrylic material.
“Amazing!” Lucas exclaimed in feigned surprise. “Is everything
here the same as the desk?”
“That’s the trick, sir. Is it original or a beautiful Holo Photonics
replica?”
“Heck, I sure can’t tell. Those Picasso’s sure look real to me.”
“Those are real, but the Monets next to them are not.”
“Amazing. I guess I’m in the right place then.”
“If it is the world’s most realistic holographic reproduction that you
are looking for, then you are very much in the right place. What exactly
is it you want to create?”
“I’m looking for an anniversary gift for my wife,” Lucas said.
When necessary, lying came very easily to him. “Something unique,
something special, but most importantly, something big. After all, we
are from Texas, you know.”
“Well of course. Let me get you a specialist to help you with that.”
Almost before she had completed the sentence, another very
attractive, slightly older woman stepped out of the elevator. She walked
directly toward Lucas and extended her hand.

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“Kimberly Dashell, how may I help you?”

“Bill Walton, ma’am. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. As I
was telling that lovely young lady, I’m looking for something special to
surprise my wife with on our anniversary.”
“I’m sure we can help. Follow me please.”
With that, she turned, threw a telling smile at the receptionist, and
led the way to the elevator. The elevator only went up a single floor
before stopping at an open floor filled with all manner of eclectic items.
This time the major was genuinely surprised at the sheer number and
variety of holographic recreations on display.
“Are all these items—?”
“They are,” she responded before he finished the question. “And we
have literally billions more in our database. Basically, if you can think
it, describe it or imagine it, we can recreate it.”
“Truly amazing,” he commented, this time with genuine awe.
“So, what exactly can we help you with Mister Walton? A
renaissance fountain, a golf course, an antique Boeing 747?”
He chuckled.
“Well, like I was telling the other young lady, we’re from Texas, or
rather, I’m from Texas, my wife is Austrian. Even though she loves
Texas, she misses the Austrian mountains of her childhood. Not much
in the way of mountains out in Texas, you know. I got myself a ten
thousand acre spread out there and I’d like to place a replica of one of
those beautiful snowcapped Alps mountain ranges right in my back
yard. I have some beautiful images I can show you.”
She tried to be discreet, but Lucas noticed the subtle motion that
indicated she had sent an alert.
“So, do ya’ll think you can pull that off?”
“Well, it’s certainly an ambitious project,” she replied cautiously.
“And it would certainly be expensive.”
“Price is no object. That is, if the price is reasonable.”
“It seems that this is something for our special projects division. I
will have to consult with them and get back to you. If you would be so
kind as to leave me your card, I will run it by them and they will in turn
contact you.”
“Not an option, darling. I kinda left this for the last minute and we
don’t have a lot of time to work with. What you say we contact those

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special project folks right now and get ‘em in here so we can get the
ball rolling. Did I mention price is no object?”
“Very well, give me a few minutes to see what I can arrange.”
She left the room just as his phone buzzed. He looked at the screen,
surprised to see Jessica Bustos’s face.
“Hello Miss Bustos. This is not a great time, but to what do I owe
this pleasant surprise?”
“Sorry major, but I have some important information for you
regarding your investigation.”
“Do you now? Can it wait?”
“Probably not. We really need to get together and talk. Where are
you? I can come and meet you.”
“Like I said, this is not a good time. I’m in the middle of
something. I’ll give you a call when I’m finished here.”
“All right then, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Wait, wha—?” But she had already disconnected.
“Why,” Lucas grumbled, “do I get the feeling that trouble is on the
way?”

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Southern California

Bryce weaved in and out of traffic, simultaneously trying to keep

his heart from crawling out of his mouth, avoid the other cars on the
busy Pasadena streets, and ignore the looks from other motorists that
ranged from irritated to outright road-rage-mad.
After gathering up the pictures that seemed the most important,
Bryce left the creepy house and called Jessica. When she didn’t answer,
he attempted to use his Find Friends app to locate her, only to have the
phone inform him that the satellite could not pinpoint her location.
How was that possible? Even if her phone was turned off, his phone
should be able to locate her. He panicked and started coming up with
all sorts of outlandish possibilities as to why she wasn’t answering.
When the app suddenly detected a blip from her phone somewhere in
Nevada, Bryce took off fast—driving through the busy streets at
greater-than-legal speeds.
He was congratulating himself on his decision to borrow Kelly’s
car so he could take the mag-lane back to Vegas when he had to swerve
suddenly to avoid some idiot who ran a red light on Colorado Blvd.
“Mrow.”
Bryce risked a glance over at the passenger seat. The cat was sitting
upright on the leather upholstery, staring at him with disapproving
yellow eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m telling you, she’s in trouble.”
“Mrow.”
“Why am I talking to a cat?”
Bryce yanked the wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding a startled
cyclist.
He really hadn’t planned on bringing the cat with him. The cat,
however, had other ideas. Although it seemed perfectly happy where it
was, it had followed Bryce out of the house and jumped into the car. All
attempts to pick up, scare, lure, or in any way remove the annoying
feline from the car were met with hisses and scratches. Eventually, with

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Jessica’s safety on his mind, Bryce had decided that bringing the cat
might be the easiest option.
He turned the car onto the on-ramp of the 210 freeway, barely
managing to keep all four wheels on the ground, stomped on the
accelerator and, with the twin-turbos screaming loudly in protest,
seconds later was in the mag-lev access lane doing over 130MPH. He
pushed the mag-lev button in the center console. A few moments later
the car veered sharply into a mag-lev access port. The mag-lev gate
dynamos accelerated the car to 250MPH and, as the electric magnetic
repulsion took effect, retracted the wheels. Within seconds Bryce was
flying eight inches above the ground at over 350MPH.
I got to get me one of these things.
With the car in full auto-mode, Bryce finally allowed himself to
relax a little. He reclined the seat and closed his eyes, trying not to
imagine all the terrible things that might have befallen his friend. He
would be in Vegas in less than an hour and then…
“And then what?” he asked no one in particular.
The cat responded by jumping on his lap.
“Get off me, you stupid cat, before I roll down the window and use
you to test Newton’s First Law of Motion,” Bryce grumbled, knowing
perfectly well that the windows would not activate in mag-lev mode.
The cat twirled around on his lap a couple of times, then promptly
curled up and went to sleep.
“Fine. Make yourself at home,” Bryce muttered.
He tried calling Jessica, but there was still no answer. Her last
location had been somewhere near the strip over three hours ago.
Suddenly he got an idea. He tapped the phone button on his dashboard.
“Dial the NRC office in Washington, D.C.”
A few seconds later, a neutral female voice answered. “NRC, how
may I direct your call?”
“I need to speak to Director Bustos.”
“May I ask who is calling?”
“My name is—well look, that’s not important anyway. This is an
emergency, it’s urgent that I speak to him.”
“One moment please.”
There was a slight click, and a brief sound of static.
“Good afternoon, this is Tyra, Director Bustos’s assistant. How may

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I help you?”
“I’m a friend of Director Bustos’s daughter and I believe she may
be in danger. I need to get in touch with him.”
“I see. And what makes you believe she might be in danger?”
“Because I had a dre—” Bryce stopped, realizing how ridiculous he
was about to sound. “Look, let’s just say I have some information that I
need to share with her father.”
“Unfortunately, Mr.—what did you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t. Look, I know you people probably get all kinds of crazies
calling you up all the time, but I assure you, I am not one of those. If
you just put me in touch with Mr. Bustos, I will explain everything to
him.”
“I’m afraid that is not possible. Director Bustos is out of town and
unavailable. Good day sir.” The line went dead.
“What the—? I can’t believe that bitch hung up on me.”
“Mrow,” the cat said in agreement.
“I know, right? Here I am trying to save the day, and what do I get?
Bureaucracy.”
His eyelids felt as if they weighed a ton. He closed his eyes for
what he thought were mere moments, only to be startled awake thirty
minutes later.
“Approaching destination. Exiting mag-lev lane in approximately
five minutes.” The car chimed.
“Fine. Proceed on auto-mode to Caesar’s Palace.”
“Acknowledged.”
Bryce sighed and rubbed his temples. The amount of weirdness
cropping up in his life was bound to give him a brain aneurysm.
“Approaching Caesar’s Palace.”
“Manual control please.”
“Acknowledged.”
Bryce pulled the car into the parking lot. He left the windows
slightly open for the cat.
The cat gave him a reproachful look.
Bryce walked into the lavish lobby of the famous casino, ignoring
all the players and the noise. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going
until he saw a burly security guard and walked up to him.
“Can I help you?” asked the hulking guard.

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“Yes. I need to look at your security tapes.”

“Are you with the Gaming Commission?”
“The what? No, I’m not. I just—”
“Then the chances of you looking at our security tapes are about
zero.”
“Look, you don’t understand. My gir…my wife is missing. And one
of her girlfriends said her husband thought he might have seen her here,
but he wasn’t sure.”
The guard narrowed his eyes.
“Missing, huh? Then, shouldn’t you be contacting the police?”
“I have,” Bryce lied. “But they don’t consider someone missing
until they’re gone for 48 hours.” Thank god for Hollywood, he thought.
“Yep, that’s a pretty lame policy all right.”
“Right? She could be God-knows-where by now! Look, I just want
to see if she shows up anywhere on the tapes, that’s all. Just to know
she’s okay—you can’t imagine what I’ve been GOING through—but if
I knew she had been here at least—I mean you know…because this
isn’t a dangerous place, right? Not like the strip, with the guns and the
hustlers and the DRUGS!” Bryce’s voice was growing increasingly
louder, and he did his best to affect the expression of an earnest but
desperate man, wild with worry.
The guard looked around long enough to see people in the lobby
noticing Bryce and stopping to listen.
“Okay, okay, calm down, buddy,” the guard said hastily. “Let me
contact my supervisor and see what I can do.”
The guard walked a few feet away and spoke into the mic on his
lapel. A few minutes later, he walked back toward Bryce.
“All right, here’s the deal. We can’t let you look through the
security tapes, but if you provide us with a picture of your wife we’ll
have our system run face recognition on it and we’ll see if we get a
match.”
“Okay, I guess. How long do you think that will take?”
“Don’t know, but there’s a nice café down this corridor, you can
wait there.”
“Thanks. Wow, I really appreciate this! Let me know as soon as you
find something.”

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Holo Photonics Corporation: Henderson, Nevada

Jessica walked into the lobby of Holo Photonics and strode

confidently to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hi. I’m looking for Maj…my husband. I believe he had a meeting
here.”
“Yes, of course. Your name?”
“Jessica Bu…Bloodstone. Jessica Bloodstone.” Bloodstone?
Really? What a dweeb.
“Sorry, we do not have anyone here by that name,” the receptionist
said, a suspicious look on her face.
“Oh, I still forget,” Jessica laughed putting on her best dumb-
brunette voice. “We’re newlyweds and I still use my maiden name.
Anyway, he’s a tall, well-built, good looking guy.”
“That sounds like Mr. Walton. He’s in with Miss Dashell, but I
believe they are discussing a private matter. You’re welcome to wait
here if you wish.”
“No missy, I do not wish,” Jessica replied, all the dumb sweetness
suddenly gone from her voice and demeanor. “I think that son-of-a-
bitch is having an affair and it’s probably that Dashell character. So you
tell me where he is right now before I jump over this desk and rip out
your larynx.”
The startled receptionist sat frozen in horror for a second before she
recovered her senses and pushed a button under her desk. A few
moments later, the elevator doors opened and Major Lucas walked out,
accompanied by a tall thin man that looked vaguely familiar to Jessica.
As they got closer, it took every ounce of courage Jessica could muster
to keep from turning and run screaming out of the lobby.
The man walking next to Lucas was Nwarht Va.
“I can see why your husband will spare no expense to make you
happy,” Nwarht greeted her warmly, extending his hand. “Andrew
Tyson, at your service.”
“I…um…Jessica…huh…Walton,” Jessica stuttered, extending her

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own hand.
“A pleasure Mrs. Walton. A pleasure. Your husband has engaged
our company to enhance some of the viewing pleasures of your home.
As this is a surprise, I will leave it to him to provide you with the
details at the appropriate time. Mr. Walton, I will have my assistant
forward the appropriate contracts to you and once we get the initial
deposit we will commence the project.”
“Sounds like a done deal pardner. As soon as my lawyers review
the paperwork, I’ll transfer the funds. Let’s go honey bunch,” Lucas
said grabbing Jessica’s arm and dragging her toward the door.
As she looked back, she saw him watching them walk out, hands
folded in front of him, a smile on his face that reminded her of a cat in
a story about a girl name Alice.

:
“You know, if you weren’t the director’s daughter, I would turn you
over to the agency right now,” Lucas snarled.
“You could try,” Jessica retorted shaking his arm off.
“You could have ruined an ongoing Federal investigation,” he
hissed. “Furthermore, we’re looking for some very dangerous people.
You could have been putting your life in danger, but more importantly,
you could have put my life, and mission, in danger. And I do not take
kindly to anyone putting a mission in danger. What the hell did you
need to tell me that couldn’t have waited another ten minutes?”
“Are you through?”
“No, not by a long shot, but please do explain yourself. I can’t wait
to hear this.”
“First of all, I don’t need a third-rate cab driver looking out for my
safety.”
“Excuse me?”
“Secondly, you have absolutely no idea of who, or what, you’re
dealing with.”
“You talk pretty tough for a skinny teenage girl. What are you
anyway, a hundred ten pounds, sopping wet?”
Jessica could feel her blood starting to boil. She closed her eyes and

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called up some T’ai Chi relaxation techniques. “Do you want to try to
take me on, tough guy? Come on, just try. Just try and see how quickly
you wind up in the hospital.”
She took an offensive Wu stance and attempted a couple of straight
kicks, which Lucas easily dodged.
One of the main themes his instructors had drilled into him, during
his very rigorous training many years ago, was to never, under any
circumstances, underestimate your opponent. In his eagerness to teach
the impertinent brat a few manners, he forgot that important lesson. On
her third attempted kick, he sidestepped and grabbed Jessica’s wrist,
only to find himself on the ground a moment later, flopping around like
some unlucky trout on the bottom of a fisherman’s boat, with Jessica
looking down at him, a smug smile on her face.
“The latest in personal defense. Touch activated micro Taser; you
touch my wrist; you get tased. Want to try your luck with any other part
of my anatomy?”
He shook his head, both in response to her question and to clear the
cobwebs caused by the million or so volts that had just coursed through
his body. “All right, lesson learned,” he was finally able to mumble,
pushing himself slowly to his feet and trying to ignore the gongs going
off in his head. “You have my attention.”
“Good. What I’ve been trying to tell you is that I have information
which will help you.”
“I said I’m listening.”
“That man in there, I think he is responsible for what happened at
Clark Mountain.”
A look of surprise flashed in Major Lucas’ eyes, quickly replaced
by his inscrutable poker-face.
“Him? No, not a chance. That guy was just a salesman. The man
we’re looking for is probably his boss. In fact, I think whoever is
responsible is probably the man who owns this company.”
“I’m sure you’re correct about that, but the man you’re looking for
is the guy we were just talking to. That I know for sure.”
“And how is it that you are so certain of this?”
“Remember David? Kind of an odd duck, the one who was with me
when we met earlier today? He showed me a life-sized image of the
man his—his people have identified as the individual responsible. It

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seems they go waaaay back and he’s chasing him for the same reason
you are.”
“Because he suspects him of setting off a nuclear weapon?”
“Well, that too,” Jessica replied. “I guess you’re not chasing him for
the exact same reason. The point is, that he’s a really, really bad guy
and we have to stop him before he kills all of us.”
“All of us, who?”
“ALL of us. The entire human race.”
Lucas tilted his head to one side and gave her an incredulous look.
“Are you serious?”
“Major, you have no idea what we’re dealing with.”
“Okay hold up, who is we?”
Jessica shook her head in frustration.
“No, that’s not what—that was the royal we, okay? The thing is,
this isn’t over. Clark Mountain was just the beginning.”
Lucas gave her an intense look.
“What are you saying? You not only know the identity of the
individual who detonated that device, you also happen to know he has
more nukes?”
Jessica nodded.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, and yes, he has lots more.
Thousands, probably tens of thousands.”
Lucas shook his head firmly.
“No. That’s not possible. You of all people should know that. Your
father oversaw the dismantling of all nuclear weapons over two
decades ago.”
“I know that. But that doesn’t change the truth.”
“I don’t suppose you have any proof of this so-called truth?” Lucas
asked.
“Yes, I mean, I can give you the backstory of—okay look, 30-odd
thousand years ago…oh hell, it’s just easier if I show you. Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“About 300 feet straight up. David?”
“Who in the hell is David?” Major Lucas asked, looking around.
“Straight up. Hold on tight.”
“Hold on to wha—shiiiiiiit!” Lucas shouted, as the elevator shot the
two of them into the air. Before the lift stopped, Lucas already had his

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weapon drawn and was scanning the room for targets.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” JW yelled, almost falling out of his chair in
front of the monitor he’d been studying. “We’re all friends here. No
need for hardware.”
“I’ll determine that for myself! Lucas snapped. “Identify yourself,
and keep your hands where I can see them!”
“He is quite correct Mr. Lucas,” David said, emerging from another
part of the ship. Lucas whirled around and pointed the gun at David.
“Furthermore, your weapon has been disabled and is quite useless at
this point.”
“Oh yeah? How about I test it out by putting a couple of rounds in
your kneecaps?”
“Oh dear,” said David with evident regret. “I wish you had not said
that.”
“Gaah!” Lucas yelped, dropping his gun and holding out his right
hand which was turning an angry red, as if it had suffered a burn.
“Lucas, are you all right?” Jessica cried, rushing to his side. “It’s
my fault. I should have given you more of a heads-up.”
“Thanks for nothing,” he grumbled. “Hanging out with the Bustos
clan seems to be hazardous to my health.”
“My sincere apologies Mr. Lucas. This ship was designed to
passively protect itself, and me.”
“That seemed pretty passive-aggressive to me,” Lucas responded,
looking at his rapidly blistering hand.
“The skin will stop blistering in a few seconds. And your hand will
be completely healed in a minute or two.”
“Right. I have third degree burns and they’ll be heal—” he stopped
mid-sentence as he looked in disbelief at his hand. Not only was the
pain completely gone, but all traces of damage vanished even as he
watched.
“That’s a pretty neat trick,” he commented, trying unsuccessfully to
hide his surprise.
“Oh, I assure you it is not a trick, major. Just a simple medical
procedure.”
“Really?”
“Quite. You see, although my ship protects itself and me, it wishes
you no harm. Therefore, once a threat is neutralized, it repairs any

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damage done.”
“Your ship?” Lucas did a 360, taking in every detail of the space.
“How exactly does your ship do that?” Jessica asked, looking at
David with interest, having already forgotten about Lucas.
“Oh boy. Here we go. This could take a while. I think I’ll go take a
walk,” JW said sarcastically.
“You do that,” Jessica replied dismissively. “So, how exactly did
the ship cure the major, David?”
“As soon as you enter the lift transport, a series of nano-probes
inspect you for any biological or mechanical threats and neutralize
them.”
“You mean there are nano-probes floating around the ship right
now?”
“Why, yes. Millions of them.”
“That’s incredible! Are they mechanical or organic?” Jessica asked
eagerly.
“They are mostly organic, but they do have a mechanical
component to them. Anyway, if they detect a threat, it is neutralized,
preferably without doing any physical harm. If that is not possible, then
any harm caused will be expeditiously remedied.”
“By the way Major Lucas,” David added. “My ship wants to know
if you wish to have your other injuries repaired.”
“That’s quite all right. They’ll heal in time.”
“Yes, they will. However, I have been informed that you have some
abnormalities in your brain that are very serious. In fact, they will be
quite fatal if not repaired.”
Lucas was dumbfounded. “My doctors assured me that I was
completely healed. They even gave me the okay to fly again.”
“It appears that they missed some of the damage at the cellular
level. I assure you, without treatment you will be dead within a year.”
Lucas stared out into the desert. “And you can fix this?”
“Yes. If you give us permission.”
Lucas directed his attention at JW. “They treated you with these
nano devices?”
“Um, yeah. Yesterday I was minus an arm and a leg—today good as
new. Better, actually.”
He turned back to David. “You’re certain the damage is still there?”

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“Allow me to show you.”

Instantly, a 3D projection of Lucas’ brain appeared in front of them.
The image magnified the frontal lobe until capillaries became visible. It
continued to magnify until the capillaries were the size of sewer lines.
The image continued to focus and magnify until the individual cells
were visible.
“Do you see this area here?” David asked pointing at a group of
cells visibly different from the rest.
“Oh! That’s not good,” Jessica blurted out.
“No, it is not,” replied David.
“They almost look transparent,” Lucas noted.
“Yes, that is the problem. The lining of these capillaries is almost
completely lacking in collagen. You have many more like that
throughout your brain, although this area appears to be the worst. Any
one of them could rupture at any time…with potentially catastrophic
results.”
“He’s right major,” Jessica said. “That is really, really bad. With
everything you’ve been through the last twenty-four hours, you
shouldn’t even be alive. I’m so sorry about what I did to you earlier.”
“You had no way of knowing. Hell, I didn’t even know.”
“What is your decision Mr. Lucas? I cannot proceed without your
authorization.”
Lucas briefly glanced at JW before turning back to David.
“I don’t think Director Bustos would appreciate me dropping dead
on the job. So, how soon can we get started?”
“Immediately. You should see some results shortly.”
Moments later Lucas looked at his injured arm and, to his
amazement, discovered the cut on his arm already scarred and the scar
already fading.
“Impressive!” was all he could manage to say.
Jessica grabbed Lucas’ hand to examine it. He instinctively jerked it
back.
“I’d prefer not to have another shocking experience, Ms. Bustos.”
“Don’t worry, you big chicken! I deactivated my Tasers. Otherwise
I would shock anyone I walked past.”
“How long will these…repairs take?”
“Several hours,” David replied. “But within a few minutes the

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exterior of the walls will be sufficiently fortified so that you will be out
of danger. Providing you do not have any sudden spikes in blood
pressure,” he replied with a reproachful glance at Jessica.
“Fine. Now that we’re all one big, happy, healthy family, will
someone explain to me exactly what’s going on?”
“I guess we do owe the major an explanation. By the way David,
you were right. It is Nwarht who’s behind this.”
“How did you become aware of this?”
“I just saw him down there. Even shook his hand.”
David was silent for a few minutes as he came to terms with the
realization that 30 thousand years of torment would soon end.
“Are you all right?” Jessica asked finally.
“No Miss Bustos, I have not been all right for a very long time. But
I am better, now that my redemption is at hand.”
“So, David, would you be so kind as to explain to Major Lucas
exactly who and what you are,” Jessica asked.
“I would be delighted to—again. You see, major, approximately
40thousand of your years ago, my people, who are a very long liv—”
“Oh no,” JW interrupted. “Not again. Time is of the essence and if
we let David tell the story, we’ll be neutrino particles by the time he’s
finished. He’s a bit slow and longwinded—uh, no offense David.”
“None taken,” David replied, looking a little miffed anyway.
“Okay major, here’s the condensed version. David here belongs to a
race from a planet a few hundred light years away. His race has existed
for a billion of our Earth years, give or take, and individually they can
live up to a couple of hundred thousand years. Although they have
existed for a long time, their technological advances are really, really
slow. It wasn’t until about a million years ago that they first developed
space travel. So, forty-some-odd-thousand years ago they finally leave
their peaceful little crib and what do they find but a nasty race of very
smart warmongers, hell-bent on destroying themselves. This terrified
David and his people a great deal, as they are the ultimate pacifists,
never having developed the need to fight, since, apparently, everything
on their planet co-exists in perfect, peaceful harmony. With no ability
to defend themselves, and convinced that this new race would soon
develop space travel and embark to annihilate them, they came up with
an ingenious solution.”

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“I came up with the solution JW,” David interjected. “And I would

call it a great many things, but ingenious would not be one of them.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Wait just a minute,” Lucas said, holding up his
hand. “You mean you’re 40,000 years old?”
“Amazing, that was my exact reaction,” JW said before David
could respond. “But David here is actually 175,000 years old. Doesn’t
look a day over a thousand, am I right?”
“You’ll excuse me if I don’t buy into all of this.”
“I know, I know. It’s all a little hard to swallow, but bear with me
and then if you want to go on a little demonstration joyride, I’m sure it
can be arranged. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, David’s solution. You
see, David concluded that since as they were, they could not defend
themselves, they should create some new beings that could fight on
their behalf. So, they genetically engineered some volunteers, and
faster than you can say ‘DNA modification,’ here we are.”
“Here what is?” Lucas asked, a look of confused irritation
beginning to show on his face.
“Not what is; who is? It’s us. Humans. They created us to fight their
battles.”
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“Know what?” Lucas finally said. “You guys are nuts. You expect
me to believe that we were created by him? It? So, he’s what? God?”
“It’s quite plausible.” Jessica volunteered. “I wrote a thesis on the
very subject of the possibility of our extra-terrestrial origins.”
“Great. I can add you to the loony-toon brigade.”
“Relax, major,” JW urged. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part
yet. You see, after turning our ancestors loose on what they thought
were horrible beings, they discovered that these warmongers were
actually pretty nice guys; they just had an odd method of population
control. And in fact, even after they were attacked by David’s creations,
they refused to defend themselves, even though they were quite capable
of it, due to some odd code of honor that had bound them to David’s
people. And since they mistook these creations as being the same as
David’s race, they were unable to defend themselves until their own
species survival was at stake. Eventually, they were able to exterminate
our ancestors, with the exception of a few hundred, who were then
packed into a spaceship and dispatched to beautiful Earth. But not

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before having their brains erased and being additionally modified to

live only a century or so.”
Lucas just stared at JW.
“Did I get the gist of it, David?”
David looked glum. “Indeed.”
JW opened his mouth to apologize when Lucas abruptly stood up.
“Okay. Even assuming I buy any of this mumbo jumbo, what does
this have to do with our current situation?”
“Right. I left out the best part. Apparently, the procedure did not
quite work on at least one of our ancestors. He’s had some 35,000 plus
years of resentment built up that he wants to unleash in one fell swoop
against David and his people, with Earth being the collateral damage.”
“Some really pissed off old guy wants revenge against David and
his people and he’s designed some type of weapon that will allow him
to do that?”
“You got it. Go to the head of the class,” JW said, doing the slow-
clap for emphasis.
“And this weapon is nuclear? What kind of delivery system can
shoot a weapon hundreds of light years?”
“Not the weapon, major,” Jessica spoke up. “The weapon’s residue;
its EMP.”
“That’s impossible. Even a few thousand simultaneous detonations
would only create a pulse strong enough to affect maybe the Moon,
certainly not something hundreds of light years away.”
“Apparently Nwarht has figured out a way.”
Lucas eyed JW curiously.
“How do you know that?”
“Because one of David’s probes is going to detect this pulse headed
for David’s planet in a few days.”
“Is going to detect?”
“Oh yeah! Forgot to mention that part. David traveled here from the
future.”
Lucas looked at their faces. They didn’t seem insane, but he
wondered if he would recognize an insane face if he saw one.
Nevertheless, collective insanity would be the only thing that would
explain the absurdity of the story he was being told. Yet, in addition to
being the daughter of his boss, Jessica Bustos certainly had the

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credentials to know what she was talking about. There was also the
mystery of his magically healed body, but most important of all, was
the fact that his gut was telling him that he was being told the truth. He
suddenly longed to be in the cockpit of an F-37, going Mach 4, his only
concern being whether the arteries in his brain would rupture from the
g forces.
But I have a job to do. Might as well do it.
“All right, where do we go from here?”
“That’s easy,” Jessica said. “Since you’re about to be good as new,
you go down there and use your ninja skills to take out this Nwarht
guy.”
“Why does everyone keep talking about ninja skills? Is that just a
thing, now? I’m a trained soldier, nothing more. Secondly, if this guy is
who you say he is, I wouldn’t be able to get to within 50feet of him
before he took me out. The only reason I was able to get close to him
earlier today is because he didn’t perceive me as a threat—yet. Third, I
can’t go around taking people out based on suspicion, that’s called
murder. The days of the old CIA act-first-ask-questions-later are long
gone. Finally, even if I could ‘take him out,’ who’s to say that this
doomsday machine of his isn’t on auto-mode with him the only one
able to stop it?”
“But this guy is an alien who wants to destroy two worlds. He
doesn’t have any rights,” Jessica argued.
“Jessica, technically, we’re all aliens,” JW reminded her.
“Oh, go build a wall,” Jessica muttered at him, making a face.
“If David’s story is to be believed, we certainly are aliens,” Lucas
continued. “But even that’s irrelevant. It was this kind of thinking about
terrorism and terrorists that got us into all kinds of trouble before. In
fact, I would go—”
“Hel…J…to see…right…ght…you did…vive,” interrupted a
stuttering female voice.
“Gerty!” JW yelled excitedly, jumping up and running to the
control panel. “You’re alive! Wait, don’t blow a circuit. Let’s see if we
can make some adjustments. David, would you be so kind?”
“Of course.” David went to the control panel and waved his hand
over it a few times. “There, that should fix it.”
“Gerty, how do you feel?”

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“I am a computer, JW. I cannot feel anything. But I seem to be

functioning adequately, although this operating environment is foreign
to me.”
“Oh, don’t get me started on that—it’s a long story Gerty.”
“You can access file 01001100 01100101 01100111 01100001
01100011 01111001 for the details of the events of the last two days,”
David suggested.
“Thank you, that was very helpful. Based on the data, I am quite
surprised you are alive JW.”
“Yeah, well, glad to see you too.”
“And who’s the latest actor in this space opera?” Lucas asked from
behind them.
“That, major, is Gerty. She’s my R2-D2.”
“She was almost your death sentence,” Jessica muttered.
“That was entirely my fault,” JW insisted. “She was just following
orders.”
“JW, I do not mean to interrupt, but could you adjust my analog
receptors?”
JW looked confused. “Did you fry a chip or something?”
“My apologies. But the ship appears to be sending me data that I
cannot interpret. I simply assumed my analog circuitry was faulty.”
JW turned to David quizzically.
“Any idea what she’s talking about David?”
“Not entirely. Perhaps this data is coming from elsewhere. Your
analog modulation program appears to be working flawlessly.”
“That answer your question Gerty?”
“Yes. It answers the question of how I am receiving those signals.
They are being absorbed by the ship’s outer layer and mixed with
internal ship data. I will attempt to segregate the data. I should then be
able to demodulate and interpret.”
“Interesting. It appears to be a distress signal.”
“You mean the ship’s in danger?” JW asked worriedly.
“No. The ship is quite safe and functioning optimally. These signals
are coming from a long distance and are barely discernible. I was only
able to detect them because I was doing a system wide diagnostic to
optimize my integration with the ship’s system. These signals seemed to
be an anomaly.”

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“Can you tell where they are coming from?”

“Yes. They are originating from a place call Luna Base Alpha.”
“Why would a lunar base be sending us a distress signal?” Jessica
wondered.
“I think I might be able to answer that,” David replied thoughtfully.
“As you know, I believe that the events of last night were Nwarht’s
doing. It was a test of his weapon system and I believe Luna was his
test target. If I am correct, anyone on the Moon may be in serious
jeopardy.”
“How long would it take us to get there?” Jessica asked.
“Ready to kill a minute ago and now a rescue mission.” Lucas
commented. “Either way, you seem to be forgetting that this is an
official NRC investigation. There is a crazy person out there trying to
wipe out civilization as we know it, so we can’t go traipsing off to the
Moon on what could be a wild goose chase. Our quarry, which a few
minutes ago you wanted me to terminate, could get away.”
“So, we just let those poor people die?”
“They’re probably already dead. If they’re not, they will be by the
time we get there.”
“Typical soldier propaganda. How long would it take us to get
there?” Jessica asked turning to David before Lucas had a chance to
reply.
“Approximately twenty minutes to clear the Earth’s atmosphere and
all the debris surrounding it. After that exactly five minutes to enter
lunar orbit and another few minutes to locate the source of the distress
signal. I estimate we could locate person, or persons, transmitting the
signal, in under thirty minutes.”
“Holy cow!” JW exclaimed. “You mean this thing can go over a
million miles an hour?”
“That is a rather crude measure of velocity, but yes.”
“What do you say?” Jessica asked turning a smug look toward
Lucas. “If you have any lingering doubts about any of this, a little joy
ride in this baby ought to put those to rest. Besides, I can tell the fighter
pilot in you is just itching to go off into the wild black yonder. What
red-blooded American boy would turn down a chance for an express
ride to the moon?”
“Fine,” Lucas retorted, unsuccessfully trying to mask his interest.

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“First let me contact the director and have him issue a warrant to arrest
our Mr. Nwarht.”
Jessica sat down and smiled. Men are so easy. Just have to know the
right buttons.
A few minutes later, they were all standing behind David looking
out at the rapidly approaching darkness of outer space. The ship deftly
navigated around the myriad of objects in its path. There were tens of
thousands of various objects in orbit around planet Earth that the ship
carefully avoided. Once they had cleared the orbital hazards, David
issued a silent command to the ship and it smoothly accelerated away
from Earth. The only sensation of speed was the Earth rapidly receding
behind them.
“Well, that was rather anti-climactic,” Lucas commented with
disappointment, looking for the adrenaline inducing rush of g-force
acceleration.
“Are you kidding me?” JW said excitedly. “We’re in outer space. I
thought that’s what all you fly boys dream about?”
“It is,” Lucas replied as he looked out at the majestic splendor of
the universe and the rapidly approaching Moon. “It truly is.”

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Luna Corp Observatory: Luna Base Alpha, Luna

Rick lay stretched out with his feet against their oxygen tanks. They
had closed off the rest of the base, and were now resting on a mattress
they had pulled off a bunk trying to use as little oxygen as possible.
They were playing a balancing act of life support maintenance,
alternating the backup system between temperature control and oxygen
regeneration. The oxygen regeneration system consumed a much
greater portion of their remaining energy supply, so in the last few
hours they switched the system to temperature control only and were
using the last of the oxygen from the retrieved tanks.
“When we get out of this fine mess, can I take you out to a nice
dinner?” Rick asked weakly, forcing a smile.
“Rick, if we get out of this, I will marry you and have all your
children, if that’s what you want.”
“Wow. Wasn’t expecting that. But okay, let’s get started.”
“Sorry, it would use too much oxygen.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
She smiled and said nothing for a while.
“Tell you what, if we get out of this, I would love to go out to a nice
dinner with you.”
“It’s a date then. I’ll hold you to it,” he smiled at her as he lay back
down. “I’m feeling really, really tired. I think I’ll take a nap now.”
He was asleep almost before he finished his sentence. She looked at
him for a while, listening to his raspy, labored breathing; suddenly
angry at the cruelty of life. After a moment, she laid her head on his
chest and closed her eyes for what she assumed would be the last time.

:
The ship did one complete orbit of the Moon. It decelerated and
hovered 50feet above Luna Base Alpha. David, JW, Jessica and Lucas

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stepped into the lift circle. It gently lowered and deposited them on the
Moon’s surface. The shield from the lift apparatus protected them from
the lunar elements while allowing them access to the control panel of
the airlock.
Remarkable technology, thought Lucas, while attempting to come
to grips with the new realities thrust on him in the last few hours:
Aliens, space travel, extra-terrestrial origins, the possibility of near
term human extinction and the fact that he was standing on the Moon
without a spacesuit. He shook his head.
“Any idea how we get in, major?” JW asked carefully examining
the controls.
“Sorry, I haven’t got—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the outer airlock door slid
open.
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you Gerty!” JW grinned, looking at the group. “See?
Wasn’t personalizing her a good idea?”
Jessica rolled her eyes.
Stepping inside, they heard air rushing into the chamber. The ship
was pumping oxygen through the lift apparatus, refilling the base with
the life supporting gas.
“Gerty, can you detect any life signs?”
“I cannot. But I took the liberty of downloading the plans for the
base. The living quarters are through the door on your right, down a
ten-meter corridor, then on your right through the kitchen area.”
“Thanks, Gerty. Let’s go”
They rushed forward. There were four doors that led into sleeping
chambers, but each one was empty.
“Any ideas?” Lucas asked, but everyone looked at a loss as to what
to do.
Jessica inhaled sharply as a sudden idea occurred to her. “Gertrude,
what’s the smallest sealable room in the facility?”
“The supply room. Go back to the kitchen. It will be the door on
your right.”
JW was first to the room. He yanked open the doors and had to
jump out of the way as an oxygen cylinder crashed to the floor. He
quickly moved several other cylinders out of the way and looked into

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the room. It was basically a hallway with a recessed area on the left
stocked with provisions. At the opposite end of the room was another
door. There, on a mattress on the floor, JW saw a man and a woman. A
closer look indicated their condition was grim; their chests were
motionless and their faces and lips had a bluish tint.
“Over here,” he shouted.
David rushed over, kneeling over the bodies. He felt each of their
wrists for a pulse.
“Are they dead?” JW asked, his face contorted in concern.
“Technically, yes. However, if too much time has not elapsed, I
might be able to save them. We need to get them back to the ship.
Quickly.”
JW picked up the man and threw him over his shoulder like some
50-pound sack of potatoes. He then reached down, grabbed the woman
and put her under his arm, carrying her as effortlessly as one might a
winter coat. He rushed out the room and through the kitchen with his
load, as Jessica and Lucas stared after him, mouths agape.
“What are y’all staring at? Let’s go!” he yelled over his shoulder as
he ran through the kitchen.
“Adrenaline?” Lucas asked Jessica, still staring at the spot JW had
occupied moments before.
“Nanonites,” David replied running off down the hallway.
Jessica and Lucas exchanged puzzled expressions before they also
rushed after JW.
He had already placed the bodies on the floor by the time David
and the others entered the ship.
“Come on David, do your alien magic,” JW urged, shifting
restlessly from one foot to the other.
“I will do my best,” he responded without slowing down on his way
to the medical cabinet. He grabbed what appeared to be two long
needled syringes and rushed to Rick and Sarah’s side. He promptly
plunged each of the syringes directly into the temples of the listless
bodies. Jessica yelped in alarm and even Lucas made a rather
undignified squeak in the back of his throat.
He quickly grabbed two more syringes and plunged those directly
into their chests. He then stepped back and instantly a clear dome
materialized around Rick and Sarah.

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“What now?” Lucas asked, arms folded as he stared at the two

lifeless bodies.
“We wait,” responded David quietly.

:
The creatures were horrifying. More hideous than anything that had
ever come out of the imagination of the most terrifying Hollywood
horror movie. They called and drew him inexorably toward them. They
grabbed him and started pulling him away.
Away from what?
He tried looking back, but could not. They kept pulling at him, but
he was not afraid. He could sense their joy at his presence. He was
getting pulled further and further.
To what? From what?
He couldn’t remember. Suddenly something grabbed him from
behind. He stopped and with the greatest of efforts, looked back. He
saw a face. She was familiar but the image was fuzzy and he couldn’t
immediately identify her. As she came into focus he recognized her.
Sarah.
She was standing in front of him, silent, but her radiant smile told
him all he needed to know.
You have to come back.
The creatures were still holding on, but no longer pulled him. He
sensed their feelings had changed.
They were, what? Angry?
No, that wasn’t it. He then realized that what they were feeling was
sadness. He looked back at Sarah’s smiling face, and as he did the
creatures released their hold on him. As they did, he experienced the
most profound feeling of sorrow he had ever known. He looked back at
the creatures, but they were gone. All that was left was the sorrow.
Sorrow and a loneliness that until this moment he couldn’t even
fathom. Yet, that made no sense. There were so many of them, why
would they be lonely? Unless…and then he knew. In that one instant,
he knew everything. He looked back to Sarah, but she too was gone.
He opened his eyes.

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:
Rick opened his eyes and looked blankly at a smiling woman sitting
on the floor next to him. His first thought was: What a nice smile.
Several other people were standing around staring at him with
concerned expressions. The woman sitting on the floor looked familiar,
but he couldn’t quite remember who she was. His head was throbbing.
“Rick, are you all right?” she asked.
He attempted to answer her, but no sound came out of his mouth. At
least he knew his name now. That’s right; Rick, Rick Wilkins. And the
woman…it was almost there.
“Sawhaa,” he mumbled through what felt like a mouth full of
marbles wrapped in cotton.
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Oh my
god, Rick! I thought I’d lost you.”
He attempted to speak again, more slowly this time. “What
happened? Where are we?”
“I’m not entirely sure, because I haven’t been awake very long. It
appears that these people rescued us.”
Rick looked at the people standing around them. What a motley
looking crew, he thought.
Standing in a rough semi-circle: a tall, attractive teenage girl; a
nerdy looking jock; a tough military type; and an odd skinny guy with a
head three sizes too large for his body.
Some rescue party.
The big-headed guy reached for his hand and helped him stand.
“Mr. Wilkins, I am so glad you survived that ordeal.”
“Thank you, I guess. I’m not sure exactly what that ordeal was.”
“Your memories should return in time. The nanonites are hard at
work repairing all neuronal and synaptic damage. There is no guarantee
that your memories will be 100 percent, but they will improve. You did
suffer damage to some areas of your brain due to lack of oxygen.”
“And, who are you—?”
“My name is David. This is my ship.”
The teenager came forward and extended her hand.
“Hi! I’m Jessica. I’m the brains of this outfit.”

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“Don’t mind her,” the jock said, extending his own hand. “She’s
somewhat lacking in social skills. I’m JW Duarte. I guess you two and I
have something in common. David here has saved all three of our
butts.”
“Don’t be modest,” the military type said. “David may have treated
them, but if you hadn’t picked the two of them up and rushed them up
here like some crazed fireman souped-up on speed and steroids, there
might not have been enough of them to save.” He nodded at Rick. “By
the way, I’m Major Philip Lucas, United States Air Force, on temporary
assignment with the NRC.”
Rick looked at Lucas suspiciously. “That kid carried both me and
Sarah?”
“While running full speed.”
“God, my head is killing me,” Rick said, covering his forehead with
both hands. “Do you guys have any aspirin, or better yet, morphine?”
“I’m afraid any medication might inhibit the nanonites from
completing your repairs,” David responded.
“What the heck are nanonites?”
“No!” JW groaned. “For the love of God, not again. Let’s just say
they’re an experimental treatment and leave it at that.”
“You know perfectly well that is not accurate, JW,” David scolded.
“After all, look at how well your treatment turned out.”
“I know David. I just don’t think Rick is in any condition to listen
to one of your long-winded explanations.”
The man named David looked slightly hurt but remained silent.
Rick looked around the ship as an odd expression came to his face. He
started walking around, looking and touching everything in an
increasingly frantic pace, all the while smiling like a little kid who just
found the jar of leftover Halloween candy. Pieces were coming together
in his brain like a jigsaw puzzle nearing completion. Finally, he
stopped, a big smile on his face, and looked at the astonished group
staring at him, collectively wondering if the brain damage he suffered
wasn’t terminal after all.
“Which one of you is the alien? Or are all of you?”

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JW was the first able to speak. “What makes you think we’re
aliens?
“This ship is of extra-terrestrial origin. It stands to reason that one
or all of you are also of extra-terrestrial origin.”
“That is a remarkable piece of deduction, Mr. Wilkins. May I
inquire how you arrived at your conclusion?” asked David, obvious
admiration in his voice.
“Please call me Rick. And I’m guessing you’re the alien.”
“You are correct again. I am quite impressed by your reasoning
capabilities, especially considering the trauma you recently suffered.”
“I’m guessing those nanonites things you keep talking about might
have something to do with it.”
“Okay Rick, you’re really freaking me out now,” Sarah commented
nervously. “You’re saying we’re on board some alien space ship, this
guy David is an alien and he’s agreeing with you. Either we died and
are in some kind of bizarre purgatory or we’re massively brain
damaged and suffering horrid hallucinations.”
“Trust me Sarah, this is no hallucination. But more than that, for me
this is a dream come true. I imagine it’s what every astronomer dreams
about—finding extra-terrestrial life. And here it is, standing right in
front of—”
Rick blinked. “Wait a second, something isn’t right though. You did
say you were the alien, didn’t you?”
“I am of extra-terrestrial origin, yes.”
“How far away is your planet?”
“Approximately 250 light years,” responded David.
“But that’s virtually impossible. The likelihood of a hominid like
species developing within a thousand light years of Earth is
approximately one in a quintillion.”
“Interesting,” Jessica said. “How did you come up with that
specific number?”
“I did a research paper on it as part of my graduate work. By
extrapolating the conditions necessary for life, number of stars in

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galaxy, complex evolutionary models, etcetera, we determined that

there were approximately 725,000 potential extra-terrestrial species in
the galaxy. Out of that number, we calculated that the probability of
one of those species currently existing within a thousand light years of
Earth were about 50 percent. We also calculated that the probability of
that species being human in appearance would be virtually zero. Or, as
I previously stated, one in one quintillion.”
He looked at David’s dispassionate expression.
“Unless—” he continued staring at David. “Of course! Unless
we’re related. Unless, we came from your species or you came from
ours.”
Jessica leaned close to JW and whispered in his hear. “I take it
back. I’m not the brains of this outfit. This guy is. How in the hell did
he figure all of this out in two minutes, not to mention right after
getting un-dead?”
“Don’t give him too much credit Jessica. I’m sure he’s pretty smart,
but I’m guessing those nanonites running around inside his head have
something to do with it. I mean look at me; a couple of days ago I
would have had trouble picking up a heavy book, today I dragged those
two up here like they’re a couple of rag dolls. Gotta love those
nanonites.”
“You are quite right Rick,” David confirmed. “You are our
descendants.”
This was all too much for Sarah. She sighed, drifting off from the
group toward the front of the ship to stare off at the lunar landscape.
She was convinced by this time that the entire group was completely
certifiable and had somehow infected Rick.
Sure, why not, I’m on an alien ship and the aliens are us, or
something like that. What I wouldn’t give to be tearing apart some
defective equipment, or building something, like that stupid solar array
they never bothered hooking up.
She looked in the direction of the solar array but could only get a
glimpse of it from the current position of the ship. Although it was the
project she was supposed to be responsible for, she had never actually
worked on it. She had certainly never seen it from this vantage point.
And now that she had….
Strange, she thought.

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She walked up to David, interrupting some anthropological

discussion he was having with Rick and the teenage girl.
“David, or whatever the hell your name is, does this ship thing
actually move?”
“Of course,” David replied, looking somewhat insulted by her
insinuation.
“In that case, would it be too much trouble to fly us over to that
solar array?”
Jessica looked at her suspiciously. “You know what I don’t get?
Why are you still alive?”
Although Sarah wasn’t the type to frighten easily, for a second she
had a vision of Jessica metamorphosing into some carnivorous alien
and turning her into a plate of hors d’oeuvres.
“What do you mean? You guys just rescued us. That’s why we’re
alive.”
“I mean, you two survived, but everyone else down there is dead I
assume.”
“They are,” Rick said. “I checked the other bases myself. I’ll have
nightmares about that for years. What are you getting at?”
“I don’t get why your facility survived but the others did not.”
“I can answer that,” Sarah said. “I was just as surprised as you.
Apparently, our base was equipped with an auxiliary power supply,
completely independent from all the other systems and did not require
power from the reactor.”
“Convenient, but still doesn’t answer the question,” Jessica pressed.
“How come you had this special auxiliary power, but the others didn’t?
What makes you two so special?”
“I don’t know—I didn’t build the place. And I’m not sure I like
your tone, Barbie. And if you continue in this course of accusatory
questioning, I may just have to rearrange that pretty little face of
yours.”
“Barbie? Oh, you just try it toughie and you’ll be on the floor so
fast it will make your head spin—literally.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop it!” Lucas ordered inserting himself
between the two women before they had a chance to exchange blows.
“Let’s settle down here. I know we’re all a little on edge, but let’s try to
remain civil. What exactly are you trying to get at, Jessica?”

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Jessica huffed. “I just don’t understand what is so special about

these two that they would have a different auxiliary system than the
other bases. If my understanding is correct, they were all built by the
same outfit.”
“That’s an interesting point,” David muttered, obviously distracted
by something. “Where exactly did you want me to maneuver, Ms.
Ruben?”
Still fuming, Sarah turned away from Jessica and looked at David.
“I just wanted to take a closer look at the solar array,” she answered
pointing to the visible edge of the system.
“Any particular reason?” Rick asked, having been quietly observing
the growing hostilities with increasing trepidation.
“I don’t know, maybe something about this ship raises the suspicion
meter in everyone, but it suddenly occurred to me that something about
that array isn’t quite right.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know the primary reason they put me up here was to work on
that system, right?”
“Yeah, of course I know that,” Rick said. “So what?”
“So, in the six months I’ve been up here, I haven’t gotten within
spitting distance of it.”
“I know, they said they were having some safety issues with it and
were having trouble getting replacement parts. So?”
“Really, Rick? You just figured out that you’re on an alien ship, this
guy here is an alien, and our relative, but it doesn’t strike you as odd
that six months for replacement parts is maybe just a little bit
suspicious? Heck, if they told me what parts, I could spit the things out
with the 3D printers I have up here.”
“That’s a good point, but how come you didn’t think it strange
before?”
“I don’t know, I guess I was so busy fiddling around the base fixing
things here, optimizing things there; I never gave it much thought.”
As they were talking, David moved the ship over the array and now
had them positioned directly over it.
“Why all the suspicion now?” Rick asked, still looking at Sarah,
unaware that they were now over the array.
“Because, if you will look down, you will probably recognize that

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what’s down there is definitely not a solar array.”

Rick looked down, keeping an eye on the girls out of the corner of
his eye.
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t, until I got a glimpse of it just now.”
“If it’s not a solar panel array, what is it?” Lucas asked.
“It is what I have been looking for,” David spoke up. “The EMP
generator.”
“I don’t get it,” JW said. “I thought the nuclear explosion that
generated the EMP was somewhere down in Nevada. Are you saying
that this Nwarht guy is going to set off some nukes up here?”
“No. I don’t believe so,” Rick said. “Do you see that device in the
center of the array?”
“Yeah,” replied Sarah. “Weird looking gismo. Never seen anything
like it.”
“I have, but only in theoretical physics journals.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a Flux Compression Generator Cannon.”
“Awesome!” JW said, suddenly interested. “You mean like the one
Marty McFly used to go back in time?”
“You did not inform me that humans had developed the technology
for time travel,” David commented, a look of confusion on his face.
“Don’t be silly, David. Of course we haven’t developed time travel.
This was a movie from the 1980s about a teenager that travels back in
time in this very cool looking car, powered by something called the
flux capacitor. He then develops a crush on his mother—”
“Eww! Gross,” Jessica exclaimed.
“Can we focus here, people?” Lucas interrupted. “What does this
thing do, exactly?”
“It was being developed in the early part of the century as a weapon
to knock out enemy communications, among other things. Basically, it
focuses an EMP pulse, from a nuclear explosion for instance, that can
then be aimed at enemy infrastructure to knock out communications
and blind the enemy.”
“Uh huh,” JW muttered. “David, could this be the weapon that
Nwarht is planning on using against your planet?”
“Whoa, wait, what? Hold on,” Rick interrupted, holding up his

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hands in a time-out gesture. “Someone is planning on attacking your

planet with an EMP weapon?”
“Yes. Within a few days, a very powerful EMP beam will be fired at
my planet.”
Rick glanced at Sarah, who grimaced. “That may be,” Rick said.
“But, to paraphrase an ancient warrior: ‘this is not the weapon you are
looking for.’”
“Why?” Lucas asked.
“Not enough power,” Rick answered. He gestured at the cannon. “A
weapon to do what you describe would have to be massive. I’m
guessing that those make-believe solar panels focus the pulse onto the
generator and the generator then amplifies and directs the beam at the
target. An array and flux cannon capable of generating a beam powerful
enough to travel a couple of hundred light years would need to be
several miles across, at least.”
“So, this is…what?” Lucas pressed.
“I believe I know,” David said. “Nwarht leaves nothing to chance.
Therefore, he would have a trial run to make sure the system works. I
believe that the events of last night were a trial run. Since you seem to
be an expert in this field Mr. Wilkins, please correct me if I am
incorrect in any of my suppositions.”
“Uh, sure,” Rick said. “Not really an expert but go on.”
“I believe what transpired is this. Nwarht detonated a nuclear
weapon down in the Nevada desert, used some type of focusing device
to direct the EM pulse from the explosion at this facility, the array
beneath us further amplified the pulse, and the cannon then ‘fired’ the
highly-concentrated beam somewhere out into space.”
“I would concur with everything you just said,” Rick nodded. “I
would only amend the part about the beam fired into empty space. I
believe he had a specific target in mind.”
“How would you know that?”
“Well, you yourself said this character leaves nothing to chance. It
stands to reason that he would want to pick out a target to test the
destructive properties of the weapon.”
“True,” David agreed, “but the weapon is only effective against
electromagnetic components.”
“Precisely. That is why the weapon is aimed at Ganymede.”

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“What the heck is a Ganymede?” JW asked.

“It’s one of Jupiter’s moons, the only one with a significant
magnetic field. The perfect test for this weapon.”
“How do you know the weapon is aimed at Ganymede?”
“Because I aimed the stupid thing,” Rick snapped.
Everyone, including Sarah, stared at Rick as if he had just sprouted
a third eye, Jessica was looking at Lucas with a smug I-told-you-so,
expression on her face.
“Would you care to explain yourself?” Lucas asked in a cold tone.
Rick turned slowly toward the group, all of whom were looking at
him varying degrees of suspicion. He gave a heavy sigh.
“For several weeks I’ve been receiving instructions from home base
to conduct observations on the Jovian system,” Rick said quietly,
glancing at Sarah then quickly looking away.
“Jovian—?”
“The planet Jupiter and its moons. Anyway, I didn’t think much of
it because part of our mission up here is to gather data on the outer
planetary systems. But in the last few days, my instructions changed—I
was told to focus my telescope on one of the Jovian moons. Forty-eight
hours ago, they told me to lock my telescope on Ganymede and have
the system do a detailed analysis of its magnetic field. That I did find
slightly odd. But, since they sign my paychecks, I did as I was told and
used the opportunity to enhance my knowledge of a rather interesting
celestial body. I’m quite certain that by locking the telescope on
Ganymede, I also aimed the weapon at it.”
“By the way, who does sign your paychecks?” Lucas asked.
“I’m not sure. It’s just an expression anyway. I don’t think anyone
actually gets signed paychecks anymore. All the forms I get come from
some outfit by the name of CB&S Accounting. Do you think they could
be part of this?”
“Could be,” Lucas murmured. The same company that signed
Wayne’s paychecks. “This whole affair is getting more bizarre every
second. David, is there a way to verify if Ganymede’s magnetic field
has been affected, short of taking a jaunt out to Jupiter?”
“Certainly,” David replied. “It will take a few minutes to get into
position for accurate readings.”
“I don’t get it,” Jessica said. “How would he know if his test

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worked or not?”
“He could take spectral analysis readings from Earth observatories,
or orbiting observatories,” Sarah answered. “But that might attract
attention. I’m guessing he got his readings from my observatory, right
down there.”
“That’s why the auxiliary power,” JW spoke up quickly,
uncomfortable with the way the two women were eying one another.
“Makes sense.”
“Of course it does,” Rick agreed. “They knew the EMP would fry
all our systems, including the power. They needed an auxiliary power
system that wouldn’t be affected.”
“And here I thought they were just looking out for us, because
we’re special,” Sarah said sarcastically, glaring at Jessica.
“So, Mr. Wilkins, if that’s not the weapon, where is it?” Lucas
pressed before Jessica had a chance to take over the conversation.
Rick shrugged. “Without knowing exactly what’s going on, I’d say
somewhere else on the Moon. Maybe on Earth. I have no idea.”
“Okay,” JW spoke up. “Put yourself in Nwarht’s head and build and
design this bigger weapon. How and where?”
“Good, but then—David?” Lucas frowned. “Where’s David?”
Everyone glanced around in surprise, but David was nowhere in
sight.
“WARNING, INCREASED RADIATION EMISSIONS.”
JW frowned. “Um, what—”
Suddenly the ship shot straight up at an incredible rate, slamming
everyone to the floor. Sarah landed on top of Jessica. Lucas whacked
his head on the command board. At almost the same instant, Luna Base
Alpha and the EMP array vanished from existence amid an incredibly
bright light. The occupants of the ship were saved from blindness by
the rapid closure of the ship’s outer layer. Dust and debris were flung
into space for miles in every direction.
The ship hung in the darkness, as dead and silent as the space
around it.

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 Chapter 40
Nouveau Paris: Las Vegas, Nevada

Director Bustos was about to leave his room when his phone rang.
He noted the name of his head technician.
“William, talk to me. Any luck with that virus that killed my
glasses?”
“Yes director, um, wait, no director, um, actually—”
“William—” Bustos snapped impatiently.
“Yes director! We stopped the virus from destroying the system, but
we have to reboot all the servers and whatnot. Unfortunately, we
weren’t able to determine if that company you called actually sent the
virus.”
Bustos pondered. “Considering that’s not exactly good news, I hope
you have something else for me.”
“Er, not really. The boys did do some digging into the company, and
while they couldn’t find anything of major importance, they did come
across this email sent to them. Doesn’t seem like much, but I figured
you might want to take a look at it. Should be in your inbox by now.”
“Thank you, William.”
The director tapped his phone, the screen changed from William’s
face to the email. It read:

Mr. Andrew Tyson, CEO

Holo Photonics Corporation
123 Post Road
Henderson, Nevada 40902

Dear Mr. Tyson,

Regarding your recent funds transfer to Rath Corporation, I feel the
need to advise you that the transaction will have a severe impact on cash
flow. Due to the recent increase in overhead and CAPEX costs, the
company is experiencing a temporary cash flow crisis.
In addition, your request for new workers for the Legacy Project has
been fulfilled. The new batch of employees has been reviewed and

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approved by Project Manager Osaka. They will depart from LAX and
should be on site in Africa by August 13. The requested equipment has
shipped and should be on site before the workers arrive.
To assist the team, two head engineer specialists from the Home
Office have been sent to oversee the project.
If there are concerns on your part, please contact us so we may
discuss any discrepancies.

Sincerely,
Simon Herrera, Vice President of Finance
CB&S Accounting

The director pursed his lips. “William, when was this email sent?”
“A couple of months ago.”
Bustos rubbed his chin wondering what, if anything, this meant, or
if it was even relevant. With Douglas’s team still occupied with
gathering clues from Clark Mountain, and Major Lucas off
investigating Holo Photonics, Bustos decided that maybe he should go
see if this CB&S outfit could provide any answers. Probably a dead
end, but his instincts were telling him that something about this email
was important.
“REC coalition dispatch center. How may I help you?”
“I’m looking to speak with Professor Jennings. He’s still head of
operations I assume?”
There was a moment of hesitation. “Yes, he is. However, he is out
in the field at the moment. He should be back tomorrow. May I ask
who you are and what this is regarding?”
“Tell him Director Bustos called and would like to speak to him
regarding plutonium. Make sure he gets the message.”
Before the woman could respond, Bustos terminated the call.
“William, those directions?”
“I just sent them to your MiS.”
“Thank you, William. Good luck.”
“You too director.”
Grabbing his briefcase, Bustos headed down toward the lobby,
wondering if he was doing the right thing. But, after all, he was simply
off to speak to some accountants. How dangerous could that be?

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 Chapter 41
Boulder City, Nevada

CB&S Accounting had a rather unimpressive three-story building

located at the edge of Boulder City. It was plain red brick with a
hideous iron door completely out of place with everything else in the
neighborhood. Even more unnerving, there were no windows and a
large stone gargoyle perched on top of the roof.
The inside, however, differed greatly from the exterior. There were
two fancy-looking couches for customers, a glass chandelier hanging
from the ceiling and a large ornate desk in the middle of the room with
a young man sitting behind it. He appeared to be in his twenties, messy
black hair and a chrome earpiece, wearing a plain white shirt and beige
jeans.
Odd business attire, he thought. He walked up to the desk and
cleared his throat.
“May I help you?” asked the young man, pushing his chair back
from the desk.
“I’m looking for Simon Herrera,” Bustos replied, casually glancing
around the room. Not casually enough, apparently. Out of the corner of
his eye, he saw the boy sit up straight, while dropping his hand
underneath the desk. “I’m Simon,” he said, voice guarded. “How may I
help you?”
“I’m here to ask about one of the corporations whose finances you
manage—the Holo Photonics Corporation.”
“And what is this in regard to?”
Despite himself, Bustos jumped. A woman had silently walked in
and was standing behind him, holding a MiPad, regarding him coldly.
She had long black hair that reached down past her back, a casual outfit
consisting of running shoes, jeans, and a pink tank top. Although not
particularly tall, it was obvious from her large, well defined biceps that
she was in excellent physical shape. Bustos had no doubt she could
take care of herself in a skirmish.
“It’s a government investigation,” he replied, looking back at

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Simon. “I have information that indicates Holo Photonics may be

engaged in criminal activity. As you handle their finances, I hope you
can provide me with information.”
The director caught the woman glancing at Simon, in a silent
exchange.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself,” the woman said, stepping
forward and holding out her hand. “Catarina Herrera.”
“Richard Bustos,” the director said wincing as she crushed his
hand. He was getting really tired of other people bruising his
metacarpals. “I apologize for the showing up without an appointment,
but this is a rather urgent matter.”
Without replying, she tapped her MiPad. Immediately the lights
dimmed, the shades closed and the OPEN sign changed to CLOSED.
“Please follow me,” Catarina ordered.
She led him to a small conference room on the second floor. The
director sat across from Catarina. Simon came in behind them and took
a seat at the far end of the table.
“This room is completely secure by the way,” Catarina stated. “We
can speak freely.”
Bustos leaned back in his chair. “An interesting security measure
for an accounting firm.”
“It has its uses,” Simon commented darkly.
The director raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“Now,” Catarina said, shooting a warning look at Simon. “How
exactly can we help you?”
“For starters, how well do you know the CEO?”
The two looked at each other.
“Mr. Tyson?” Simon answered. “Not well. We’ve only met twice.”
“Hmm. How long have you been managing his company’s
finances?”
“Five years now.”
Bustos nodded noncommittally, trying to get a read on these people.
They seemed relatively willing to cooperate, but he could feel an
underlying tension in the room.
“And what is the project referred to in this communication?”
Bustos asked, pulling out his MiS and bringing up the email William
had sent him. The director handed it to Simon who recoiled like it was

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a snake.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded in an acidic tone. “This is
private company correspondence.”
“Like I said, this is a government investigation. It takes precedent
over private security issues.”
“I see, so once again, the government can just stick its nose where
it—”
“Simon!” Catarina snapped. “Go finish up your work. I’ll answer
Mr. Bustos’s questions.”
The kid glared like he wanted to throttle Bustos, then shoved his
chair back and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Catarina took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Mr. Bustos. My son has
issues with government types.”
“Personal issues?” he asked, glancing at the door.
“Very personal. He’s convinced the government is responsible for
his father’s death.”
Bustos raised his eyebrows.
“That explains his less that warm response to my presence. You do
not share that belief—I take it?”
There was a moment of awkward silence.
She eyed him for a long time, trying to decide if he could be
trusted. Finally, she took a deep breath.
“Mr. Bustos, let me tell you how I got involved with the Rath
corporation.”
“Rath?”
“The parent company of Holo Photonics.”
“Interesting, please continue.”
“Approximately ten years ago, my husband taught nuclear physics
at Yale. He was approached by a government outfit offering him a job
working on a new kind of nuclear power. It was called the Legacy
Project. My husband reluctantly accepted. It meant that he would be
away from us for long periods of time, but the money was too good to
pass up. Looking back, I should have realized that the offer was a little
too good to be true. At the time, however, I was simply trying to be
supportive and didn’t really stop to consider how nebulous the offer
truly was. We wouldn’t be able to visit him, call him or even know
where he was going. We just assumed it was the usual government

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secrecy.”
The director looked thoughtfully at her.
“Not that I do not believe your story Ms. Herrera, but if anyone had
been hired by the government to work on a secret nuclear project, I
would have known about it.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m the director of the NRC.”
She stopped and pursed her lips. “Interesting. The NRC director
himself personally investigating—what, may I ask?”
“You certainly may ask.”
“It was rhetorical Mr. Bustos. I am well aware of who you are. In
fact, I attempted to contact you several years ago regarding my
husband, but—”
“I assure you, your husband was never hired by any government
agency to work on any type of nuclear project.”
“I know that now, Mr. Bustos. Once I realized it, I began contacting
every agency I could think of, including yours, trying to find out what
happened to my husband, and more importantly, who was responsible.
But no one seemed interested in helping me. I was never much of a
conspiracy theorist, but it surely seemed as though someone was
covering something up about my husband’s death.”
“How did he die?”
“Six months after he started we were told he had been killed in a
lab explosion. We were devastated. But it wasn’t long before I got
suspicious. The details of his death were so vague, so unclear, that I
needed to find out what had really happened. We received a large
settlement from some fictitious government agency after his death,
hush money I called it, and I used those proceeds to fund my
investigation into what happened to my husband. You could say I
became obsessed with it. After months of pouring over MiNet stories of
mysterious deaths and disappearances, a pattern emerged. I started
finding disturbing evidence of other scientists and engineers who died
in mysterious accidents, or disappeared, while on—nebulous
government, or quasi government jobs. Finally, a common denominator
emerged.”
“Holo Photonics?”
“Not exactly. The parent company—Rath Corporation.”

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The director frowned. “I’m surprised I’ve never heard of this outfit,
especially if they are ostensibly handing out government contracts.”
“Not surprising. They are strictly a holding company. Their name
never makes the news and they do not conduct any business directly.
Everything is done through specialized subsidiaries, most of whom are
legitimate business enterprises and many have legitimate government
contracts.”
“Holo Photonics being one such entity?”
“Correct. Once I found out about the existence of the Rath
Corporation, I set out to infiltrate it by starting CB&S accounting and
contracting for the accounting of one of their subsidiaries.”
“I take it you have a finance background?”
“Wharton MBA.”
Bustos whistled softly. “Impressive!”
Catarina scoffed. “Not impressive enough. Almost ten years and I
still have no concrete proof as to my husband’s murder.”
“Yet, you do still believe your husband was murdered?”
“Him, and many others like him. I have been very careful in my
investigation, Mr. Bustos, which is why it’s taken me this long. But I
am certain that this Legacy Project, whether government sanctioned or
not, has been responsible for a great many deaths—accidental and
otherwise.”
Bustos leaned back in his chair trying to digest the information and
decide how much, if any, to believe.
“I am assuming you catalogued all this information.”
“I have. It is all stored on various—huh—vintage off the grid PC’s.
My son is somewhat of a computer savant, and he restored these
ancient units that, while lacking in computing power, make up for by
being virtually un-hackable.”
“One thing I don’t quite understand though. Why would an outfit
this large hire outside contractors to do their accounting?”
“Quite clever, if you think about it. By decentralizing their
accounting, they make it that much more difficult for someone to put
all the pieces together.”
“But you have.”
“Not all, but some. Enough to determine that there is one person
behind this whole enterprise. And he has amassed a spectacular amount

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of wealth.”
“How spectacular?”
“Perhaps as much as a trillion dollars.”
Bustos just stared at her for a few moments, trying to determine if
she was serious.
“You’re telling me that a single individual controls these mega
corporations and is worth over a trillion dollars? You’ll forgive me if I
take this information with a slight grain-of-salt.”
“I agree it is incredulous, but as I said I have it well documented.”
“I will have to take you at your word, but it is still hard for me to
believe that there is an individual out there with more wealth than has
ever been documented, yet no one is aware of his existence.”
“Mr. Bustos, as hard as it is to believe it is true nevertheless. This is
a very clever and ruthless individual. And, there is something else
about him that is even harder to believe.”
“And that is?”
“I believe that he may be over a hundred years old. Perhaps as
much as two hundred—”
The director’s phone interrupted with a shrill ring. He answered it
with an annoyed look. “Hello Tyra. Do I not have the phone on do not
disturb?”
“Yes sir. However, I believe you may want to hear this—in
private.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Herrera. I’ll be right back.” He went outside.
Even with the latest encryption technology, one couldn’t be too careful.
“Tyra, what is so important?”
“It’s about your daughter, sir.”
Fatherly alarm bells started going off, even though his exterior
demeanor remained calm. “What about her? What kind of trouble has
she gotten herself into?”
“I’m not sure sir, but we received a call from a young man wanting
to speak to you. He said your daughter might be in danger and he
needed to speak to you right away. He wouldn’t leave his name, but we
traced his phone. His name is Bryce Costa. Do you know him?”
He sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid I do. Can you send me the audio of the
entire conversation as well as his current location?”
“On its way, sir.”

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“Thank you, Tyra.”

Bustos walked over to a concrete bench and sat down. His mind
was spinning trying to digest the conversation with Herrera and figure
out what type of danger this Bryce kid believed Jessica might be in. He
didn’t much care for Bryce. They had only met twice, and although he
seemed harmless enough, he pegged him as a big-time slacker. How
Jessica could be friends with him, he couldn’t understand. A father
couldn’t tell a daughter who she could and could not associate with, but
it didn’t mean he had to approve.
Bustos had just gotten up to go back into the building when he
heard a shrill whistle. Some primal survival instinct made him react
without thinking. He dove under the bench. A split second later the top
floor of the building exploded, sending steel, glass and concrete raining
down around him.

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Somewhere in Deep Space

“What the hell just happened?” JW groaned, trying to push himself

up from the floor.
“Do you like me now?” Jessica asked Sarah who was still lying on
top of her.
“No. I don’t,” she responded, getting up slowly and giving Jessica
an extra hard shove in the stomach as she did.
“Is everyone all right?” David asked with concern as he walked
back into the room.
“Yeah, I think so,” JW replied, trying to wake a semi-conscious
Lucas. “Though I doubt soldier boy will be happy when he wakes up.
Any idea what just happened?”
“Yes, it appears that Nwarht just tied up some loose ends by
detonating another nuclear bomb and destroying the base.”
They looked down at the Moon, now several hundred miles below
them. The dust cloud from the explosion was slowly spreading across
the lunar surface.
“Oh my God,” murmured Sarah.
“That pretty much settles the question as to whether he has multiple
nuclear weapons,” Jessica said.
“There was never much doubt about that. But you are correct, this
confirms it,” David replied solemnly.
“It also confirms Rick’s hypothesis that this is not the main
weapon,” Sarah commented, throwing another glare at Jessica.
“Were we actually hit by the blast?” Rick asked, concerned about
possible radiation exposure.
“Fortunately no,” David replied. “The ship detected a radiation
surge just prior to the explosion and got us clear ahead of the blast. I
had just enough time to slip into my protection pod.”
“Nice,” JW grunted. “You go into some protective pod, leaving us
out here to get vaporized.”
“JW, there was obviously not enough time to get you all into the

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pods. And, had I been injured and the ship damaged, your chance of
repairing the ship and surviving without me would have been rather
slim.”
“Now what?” Rick asked.
“I believe David was about to take us into position to do a spectral
analysis of Ganymede. After that, I guess we hightail it back to Earth.
I’m sure Lucas will be eager to bring my dad up to speed. And we’ll
see if we can’t track down this maniac.”
“I have already taken the readings,” David responded, his
expression crestfallen. “The weapon worked flawlessly. Ganymede’s
magnetic field has been completely stripped away.”
“Wow,” Rick marveled. “This guy might be a complete nutcase, but
you have to admire his genius.”
“Hey David, cheer up,” Jessica said. “We’ll get this guy before he
zaps your world. Look who he’s up against—we’ve got a combination
of the Flash and the Hulk in JW; we’ve got the Terminator in Major
Lucas; we have Sherlock Holmes and his side kick; we have Super
Mouth in me; and then of course we have you—Yoda.”
“Hey, I’m the only one who can call him that,” protested JW.
“Do not forget me.”
“Of course not Gertrude. Didn’t mean to leave you out. By the way,
thank the ship for saving us from becoming cosmic dust.”
“Not necessary. We were simply doing our jobs.”
“Maybe, but thanks anyway. So, what you say David? Let’s go get
that escapee from the funny farm and teach him some manners.”
“Right, Barbie,” Sarah said. “We’re just going to walk up to a crazy
guy and say; ‘excuse us, would you mind handing those weapons over
because we don’t think it’s very nice of you going around setting off
nukes and killing people’?”
“Okay that’s it,” Jessica snarled. She launched a roundhouse kick
that caught Sarah in the stomach and sent her backward into JW,
knocking them both against the wall of the ship.
There followed a few moments of stunned silence.
“What the hell was that for?” Sarah yelled. Before anyone could
stop her, she ran straight at Jessica and threw her to the floor with a
tackle that would have made any linebacker proud.
“Interesting,” David commented, watching as the two women tried

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to claw each other’s eyes out. “I have not observed this sort of behavior
before. Is this normal?”
“David!” JW cried. “Help me—” He was cut short when a punch
from Jessica got him in the face and knocked him senseless.
“Whoa!” Rick yelped, catching JW before he hit the floor. “Hey,
um, girls, maybe now isn’t the best time to settle whatever differences
you have with each other. Can’t we talk this out?”
“No!” They both yelled.
“What is your problem you little witch?” Sarah seethed, elbowing
Jessica in the shoulder. “What mental hospital did you escape from?”
“Oh that’s rich, coming from you,” Jessica snapped. “Do you
expect us to believe that you’ve been sitting on top of a giant death ray
and you didn’t notice? You must think we’re all stupid!”
“You’ll change your mind quick when I knock that smug look off
your face!”
David cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should talk this out.”
“Shut up!” They both yelled.
Jessica was about to deliver a punch when a cord that hadn’t been
there a second earlier grabbed her wrist. She attempted to grab it with
her free hand, but that hand was similarly ensnared by another cord
attached to the ceiling of the ship.
“Hey! What the—?”
She looked at Sarah who was equally immobilized. David walked
up to Jessica. “I am sorry Ms. Bustos, but I cannot allow violence on
this ship. You both will remain restrained until you calm down and
assure me that there will be no further incidents.”
“That’s not fair,” Sarah growled. “She started it. Why am I being
restrained?”
“She’s right, David.”
Everyone turned in surprise to Lucas, who had been watching the
altercation in silence. “Let them go at each other, it’s highly
entertaining. After all, it’s not like the world is coming to an end any
time soon. Oh wait, it is! What is wrong with you people? We’re trying
to catch some lunatic who is about to destroy two civilizations and you
two are playing ninja princess trainees.”
He looked around the ship. “When I got recruited into this, I had no
idea what was involved. I thought I was simply helping Director Bustos

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track down some rouge terrorists who had gotten a hold of some nukes.
That’s scary enough, but it turns out this guy is preparing to destroy
himself and two entire civilizations just for a chance at revenge. Let me
reiterate, this is a very, very bad individual. My inclination is to send
you all on your way, fill the director in on what’s going on, and let him
send in the cavalry. However, since time seems to be of the essence,
and given the rapidity with which he is cleaning up loose ends, we may
be the only ones able to stop him.”
Lucas looked around the room. “Any questions? No? Good. Given
that he has completed his test phase, it’s likely he’ll be moving on to
the main event soon. I was never prepared to put civilians or, um,
aliens, in danger,” he continued with a pointed look at David. “The
problem is that my gut is telling me that it wasn’t mere coincidence that
brought us together. I’ve learned to trust my instincts and something is
telling me that stopping this guy is going to be up to us. To do that is
going to take a group effort, with all of us working together. The five of
you aren’t exactly a SEAL team, but you’ll have to do. Got it?”
“Sure,” Rick muttered.
“Are we clear on this? We are all going to have to work together to
stop this guy. Together.” Lucas emphasized raising his eyebrows at
Jessica and Sarah.
“Sure,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Fine,” Jessica grumbled.
“Thank you,” Lucas said. He pulled David aside. “I think we have
some planning to do.”
“I have a question,” Rick whispered to JW. “Does your girlfriend
always go around drop-kicking people into next week?”
“First of all, she’s not my girlfriend,” JW replied, watching as
David commanded the ship to release its hold on the two women.
“Second, I don’t know—she seemed pretty nice when I first met her.
Third, I am seriously reconsidering that date I asked her on.”
“Mm,” Rick said noncommittally. “We may not be a SEAL team,
but those two are scary together. Whoever this guy is, one thing is for
sure; he has no idea what he’s up against.”

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 Chapter 43
Lake Tanganyika: Africa 2040

The Gulfstream HJ215 screamed across the African savannah

landscape 200 feet above the ground at 1500 knots. The pilot watched
the grasses, trees and wildlife appear and disappear below him in the
blink of an eye. The feeling of speed exhilarated him, and he longed to
take control of the jet and fly it even lower and faster. He sighed,
knowing that it was a risk he couldn’t afford. The computer could fly
the jet more safely than he, even with his considerable skill. The dark
waters of Lake Tanganyika appeared in the distance to the southeast.
The computer slowed the jet to subsonic and banked east. As the jet
crossed the western shore of the lake, it slowed further and started
descending until it was only 20 feet above the black waters. It slowed
to a stop and hovered there.
A few minutes later the lake water below the jet started bubbling
and a very large shadow emerged from the depths. The object broke
through the surface of the lake, revealing an enormous ship, easily
dwarfing the jet hovering above it. As it rose further, a human skeleton
encased in a tattered wetsuit slid off the top of the hull and plopped into
the dark waters of the lake, slowly sinking to its final resting place.
A large door opened on top of the hull and the jet descended into it.
The door closed as the mammoth ship continued its ascent. Seconds
later, it accelerated at an incredible rate and vanished into the sky. The
inky black water quieted, the lake’s surface regaining its glassy sheen,
no evidence in sight that anything extraordinary had taken place at all.

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Caesar’s Palace: Las Vegas, Nevada

Bryce paced uneasily across the floor of the casino outside the
security office, occasionally glancing up at the large TV mounted in the
corner of the room. For the last half hour, it had shown nonstop
coverage of some building explosion and fire out in Boulder City.
Weird. Modern buildings with argonite fire suppression systems don’t
catch fire and blow up like that.
He didn’t really give it much thought though. His concern was
finding Jessica as soon as possible. What was taking those security
guys so long? How long does it take to look through a few tapes? He
was just about to head into the office when someone cleared their throat
behind him. He winced and moved away slightly, half expecting the
mall witch to pull out a blaster and vaporize him.
“Mr. Costa.”
“Director Bustos,” Bryce said, somewhat disoriented by the other’s
appearance. “Uh, what happened to you?”
The director’s face was discolored, one eye was almost swollen
shut, and a professionally dressed gauze bandage wrapped around a
forearm, soaked in fresh blood.
The director glared at him and gestured to the TV screen.
“Oh,” Bryce said, understanding dawning. “You got caught in the
middle of all that?”
“Peripherally. As a matter of fact, I would have been inside had it
not been for you. I stepped outside to take a private call from my
assistant who had a message from you. I guess I owe you my life.”
“You’re welcome?” Inwardly Bryce grimaced. He had met the man
twice before and they hadn’t exactly hit it off. Bryce wasn’t a fan of
government muckety-mucks, and he was pretty sure the director was
not a fan of frat boys. It always made for wonderfully awkward
conversations.
“So,” he ventured. “Someone burned down that building
intentionally?”

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“Not your concern. Tell me, Mr. Costa, what makes you think my
daughter is in danger?”
Bryce grimaced again. From the tone of his voice, he had the
feeling the director would throw him in a dark cell somewhere if he
didn’t like Bryce’s answer.
“Okay, so last night I was at the UNLV library with Jessica, helping
her with a research project,” Bryce began. Bustos arched his eyebrows
skeptically. “Well okay,” Bryce admitted quickly, “I was actually just
hanging out while she worked on her project. Anyway, while we were
in there, we ran into this creepy guy who claimed he was looking for
some book—said he’d gotten special permission to borrow it from the
professor who wrote it—but then, he just leaves—walks out without
the book. Something didn’t feel right—the guy seemed pretty hinky to
me, so I hung around trying to figure out what exactly he was looking
for. And I found it. But it wasn’t the book, it—it was what was in the
book.”
Bryce frowned. Why the heck had he just said it that way?
“And what was this book?”
Bryce didn’t speak for a few seconds. When he had started to tell
the director about the data chip, something cold had seemed to crawl
across his neck. He looked around, making sure the security guard
wasn’t coming back, or that a gaggle of tourists wasn’t within earshot.
Should he not know about that? Guess I should be careful about
what I say anyway.
“It was a book on how an EMP could be used as a military
weapon,” Bryce whispered. The director’s face remained impassive but
Bryce’s poker instincts told him what he’d just said was big. Bustos’s
muscles had tensed, his jaw tightened.
“Then what?” the director asked, his tone unchanged.
“Well, I got a little spooked, you know? I ended up going to a Mi
Store to get my data transferred, ‘cause I felt like maybe I was being
followed. Then some evil-witch-from-hell starts blasting up the place
while threatening me with unspeakable bodily harm if I didn’t
surrender. Anyway, I managed to terminate her existence, but not
before she laid waste to a department store and killed about half a
dozen innocent people in the process.”
“That, was you?”

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“What, you know about that?”

“I get briefings throughout the day about unusual events related to
my field of work.”
“I thought you were with the NRC. What does this have to do with
your agency?”
“There were traces of plutonium in the—weapon—that the woman
used.”
“Plutonium? No wonder those evil needles made those people melt
like a snowman in July.”
“What needles?”
“Her weapon of choice. She fired some needles from a bracelet and
when they hit, you simply—melted. I saw some poor guy melt right
before my eyes.”
“Go on,” he prompted.
“She called me by name. Obviously I couldn’t go back home, so I
went underground—sort of. I crashed at Jessica’s place and that’s when
things got really weird.”
“Weirder than people melting from needles?”
“Yeah. But you might not like this part.”
“Continue.”
“You see, I started having these visions, or dreams, or—well I don’t
know what you’d call them, but they felt very real. In these visions, this
guy in a post-apocalyptic landscape is talking to me, giving me vague
references about things that are happening or about to happen. It’s like
he’s—warning me.”
“Do you know who this mysterious person is?”
“Yes. And that’s the part you’re not going to like. Just please
believe me, sir, when I say I’m not trying to mess around or be
disrespectful or anything like that. I saw what I saw. This guy—he was
a dead ringer—I mean, like a total doppelganger, for your—for you late
son.”
A sudden flash of anger crossed Busto’s face and for a second,
Bryce was sure he was about to stop the director’s fist with his face.
But just as quickly as it appeared the look was gone and the director’s
expression was as impassive as before.
“You realize my son died over twenty years ago?”
“Yeah, I do. I didn’t even realize Jessica had a brother until I saw

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his picture at her place. I had never seen his face before, but I had a
dream about him. The dream was as real to me as this conversation.
And his face was unmistakable. There is no doubt in my mind that it
was him.”
The director said nothing. Bryce could feel the undercurrent of
pained anger still simmering.
“Do you know how my son died, Mr. Costa?”
The question caught Bryce off guard. “No. Like I said, Jessica
never talks about him.”
“He was in Kansas City when the bomb exploded.”
“Oh jeez, Mr. Bustos, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
“Don’t apologize. It was a long time ago, although sometimes it
seems like yesterday.”
“What was he doing in Kansas City?”
Bustos didn’t answer right away. He was looking at the TV but
Bryce could tell he was staring right through it.
“My son was special, Mr. Costa. I don’t mean in the way that all
sons are special to their parents. I mean that there was something about
him. He could…see things.”
“Uh, what kind of things?”
“Little things really, and I never paid much attention at the start.
I’m not a believer in the metaphysical, but my wife was. She knew very
early that he was different, that he had a gift, as she called it. He could
find things that had been lost for years. Sometimes, he would tell us the
phone was about to ring a few seconds before it did or even who was
on the line. And then, of course, there was the cat.”
Bryce looked up sharply.
“The cat?”
“Yes. Paul called him Mo. He showed up in our backyard one day,
this helpless little kitten, and made himself at home. They were
inseparable—that cat would follow him around like a puppy—
sometimes they would just sit and look at each other—almost like they
were communicating.”
“One day, the cat disappeared. We lived in the Pasadena foothills—
there were coyotes and mountain lions in the surrounding hillside—
anything could have gotten him. I simply figured the cat had an
unfortunate encounter. But about a week later, Paul woke up in the

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middle of the night screaming about a stomach being on fire. Not his
stomach, he told us, but the cat’s.
“He insisted we go look for him. I got my car keys, but he said no,
we had to walk—Mo was up in the hills. He said Mo had told him that.
We geared up and hiked up into the hills, and damned if Paul didn’t
lead me straight to him, hiding under a bougainvillea bush, bite marks
on his neck, and a six-inch gash right in the middle of his belly.”
“How old was he when that happened?”
“About ten.” The director’s gaze became unfocused. “After that, we
kind of grew apart. He knew that the way he was made me
uncomfortable, so he kept his distance. And I was too much of a fool to
tell my son how much I really loved him.”
Bryce kept silent, but he could hear the anger and the pain in the
director’s voice.
“He called me the day before he went to Kansas City. He said he
was going because something horrible was going to happen there. But,
he had to go in order to save us. To save all of us.”
Bryce was silent as he tried to process what he had just been told.
That was when something uncomfortable occurred to him. “What color
was the cat?”
The director gave him a strange look. “Black, with a marking on his
side that looked somewhat like a white target. Why do you ask?”
Bryce’s pulse started thudding uncomfortably loudly in his ear. “N-
no reason. Just wondered.”
The director seemed about to say something when he saw someone
walking up to them.
“Ah, Mr. Bustos,” the man said extending his hand. “I’m Ron
Gates, Chief of Security.”
“Richard Bustos, and this is Bryce Costa.”
“Ah, yes. Your son-in-law. Nice to meet you both.” The director
threw Bryce an inquisitive stare. Bryce shrugged his shoulders with an
innocent look.
“Come this way, you’ll find this most interesting. Fascinating,
actually.”
He led them to his office and pointed to the largest monitor. “Do
you see those two gentlemen walking on the grass?” he asked, pointing
to the left side of the screen.

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The director looked where he was pointing and a felt a glimmer of

recognition. “Could you zoom in on that?”
“Certainly.” Gates touched the screen where the figures were
walking and the image magnified. “Do you know them?”
“I do,” the director mused. “I believe they are friends of my
daughter.”
“I figured as much. You’ll see later. Now let me split the screen to
give you the view from an adjacent camera further west and rewind.
Anything strike you as odd?”
“I just see two men walking.”
“Yes, but where did they come from?”
“Holy crap!” Bryce blurted out.
“Something you’d like to share Mr. Costa?” the director asked
irritably.
“Mr. Bustos. Don’t you see? Those two screens are contiguous. For
them to appear on the screen on the right, they had to come from the
screen on the left. How is that possible?”
“That Mr. Costa,” Gates said, “is the 64-million-dollar question.
Now watch this.”
He scrolled the counter on the bottom of the screen to the right. The
image fast forwarded by approximately an hour. Three figures appeared
on the right edge of the screen.
“Hey that’s Jessica,” Bryce said. “With the two weirdos. Oh crap, it
happened again. They just vanished!”
The director continued to stare intently at the screen. “Are those
two images truly contiguous?” he asked Gates.
“Good catch Mr. Bustos. No. That’s what makes this truly
fascinating. There is about a ten-foot blind spot in the cameras’ extreme
range. It’s interesting that they disappear in that area, almost as if they
knew it was there.”
“Is there a manhole cover there or some place they could disappear
into?”
“No. I checked personally after reviewing this footage, that’s what
took me so long. There is nothing there but lawn. The only unusual
thing was some dead grass in a roughly circular pattern.”
“Could they have gone south?”
“Nope. Solid wall, side of building. North, the cameras would have

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picked them up.”

“Seems to me the only remaining possibility is up,”
“I thought about that too Mr. Bustos. I thought possibly a helicopter
or something like that, but the rooftop cameras show nothing.”
“What we have here is an enigma Mr. Gates,” Bustos said.
“Problem is, I don’t believe in enigmas. They had to go somewhere. If
you would be so kind—would you please send copies of these files to
my tech team in Washington? Here’s the information.”
He took one last look at the screen before turning to the Security
Chief.
“Thank you for your help,” he said extending his hand.
“Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
Bryce followed the director out of the small room. It was difficult to
tell which of them looked more worried.

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“Make yourself at home Mr. Costa. Grab a drink from the mini-
fridge if you’re so inclined. I’m going to get myself cleaned up.”
Bryce was tempted to grab something with high alcohol content.
His nerves could certainly use the sedation. But even though the
director had offered, Bryce didn’t think he would approve of his guest
downing few shots of Chivas. He helped himself to a bottle of water
instead.
After leaving Caesar’s they had walked across the street to the
director’s hotel. Bryce entreated the director to get medical help, but
Bustos said there was no time. He would patch himself up in the room.
They stopped at a pharmacy on the way to purchase various supplies.
Bryce sat back on the couch drinking water and looking around the
impressive suite. Being director of the NRC has its perks. He stood up
and walked to the window. Below him, the lights of the strip were
beginning to glow as dusk settled in. In the distance, rays of orange
light illuminated the desert and the mountains as the sun set.
Where are you, Jessica?
“There, good as new,” Bustos announced returning from the
bathroom. “Now, a nice stiff drink to ease the pain and we’ll get back
to business.” He walked to the mini-fridge, and grabbed two of the
small bottles of whiskey. Filling two glasses with ice, he poured one
bottle of the amber liquid into each.
“Join me Mr. Costa. You look like you could use one.”
Nothing I’d like better. But is this a test?
“Please, Mr. Costa. I’m not judging you,” Bustos sighed, as if
reading his mind.
Bryce wasn’t sure, but he grabbed the drink and took a big swig.
The liquid felt wonderful as it burnt with a pleasant glow down his
throat. He sat down, leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Thank you, sir. I guess I really needed that. I feel like hell.”
“You look it. How much sleep have you gotten in the last 24
hours?”
“Not much. Those weird dreams haven’t allowed me much rest.”

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“Finish your drink and then grab some shut-eye while I catch up on
some business.”
“Thank you. I think I will.”
Bryce smiled as he walked to the bedroom. What do you know?
The stonewall is human after all. But I won’t be able to sleep.
Less than a minute later, he was out like a light.

:
Bryce was standing in some sort of cave; its walls decorated with
paintings whose features he couldn’t quite make out in the darkness. It
looked like a primitive meeting room. Five thrones were placed around
a massive stone table. Seated upon each throne was a skeleton, all of
them clad in ceremonial garbs.
“So here we are again.”
Bryce jumped. Standing atop the table was the boy, his white
hoodie and leather pants looking decidedly out of place among the
ceremonial robes of the skeletons.
The boy pushed his hood back and brushed his shaggy black hair to
one side. “Don’t worry about the ambiance. This has always been a
good place for finding answers. It stands for balance and harmony.”
Bryce licked his suddenly dry lips and managed to speak.
“Answers. Yeah. You’re Paul, aren’t you? Your father told me about
you. You have to be Jessica’s brother.”
The boy stepped down from the table, and Bryce took an
involuntary step backward. “Yes, my name is Paul. But as to your other
statement, it is both the past and the reality I never had.”
“Look, I don’t want to discuss philosophy. I just want some
answers, but those seem to be in short supply. Why all the double-talk?
What are you trying to gain?”
The boy pursed his lips and spun the knife he was holding between
his fingers. “Closure.”
Bryce frowned uncertainly. “Closure about what?”
The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone. He
held it out in front of him. Frowning, Bryce examined it. “Um, what is
this?”

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“Technically, you could call this I’itoi, the genesis story for the
O’odham people. Also known as the Man in the Maze. Essentially, it is
a symbol of the choices to be made in life. It’s a somewhat common
symbol in art. But this symbol is different. It was created long before
I’itoi by a woman named Idre. It was meant to be a reminder.”
Bryce didn’t speak for a moment. “A reminder of what?”
Paul’s eyes seemed to bore their way into Bryce’s own. “A choice.
Sometimes, a person has to choose a path. And following it may have
consequences no one could foresee. There will come a time when you
must make a hard choice, Bryce. You aren’t the first, and you probably
won’t be the last. But where others failed, perhaps you have the chance
to succeed.”
“Succeed at what? You aren’t telling me anything.”
“Aren’t I? You’re a smart man, Bryce. When the time comes, I
think you’ll know what to do.”
Paul stepped away into the shadows, but for just a moment, Bryce
thought he saw the other smile. “You know, in another life, the two of
us might have been friends. Perhaps, one day, we may get that chance.”
All around Bryce, the cavern walls began to crumble, and as they
did, Bryce caught a glimpse of the place from his first dream, with the
nuclear warhead streaking toward the tall buildings in the distance.
And as the atomic bomb exploded above Kansas City, Bryce’s
vision went black.
The last thing he saw was the cat, its yellow eyes fixed on him with
a most disapproving look.

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Somewhere in Deep Space

“We’ll be right back. ‘Scuse us,” JW said, grabbing Jessica’s arm

and pulling her into a side room. The others were so busy discussing
Nwarht and the weapon that they didn’t pay any attention.
“You, Jessica Bustos, are a real piece of work,” JW scolded. “You
know that? Lucas is right. We’re facing the end of the world and you’re
whaling away on some girl who was dead about a half hour ago.”
“Whatever,” Jessica grumbled. “It wasn’t like I was trying to do
permanent damage.”
“So a roundhouse kick is the new handshake?” he inquired.
“Look, if I was trying to hurt her, she would have some internal
bleeding and a few broken bones,” Jessica said dismissively. “My
training isn’t just for show. I was just trying to see if she had any
training.”
“Dare I ask why?”
“I was suspicious, okay? You can’t tell me their story isn’t
suspicious.”
“Their story isn’t suspicious.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I thought she might have been an operative
or something, in which case she would have had defense training,
which she obviously does not. All she has is a black belt in hair pulling.
Ouch!”
“Serves you right. ‘Cause honestly, it’s a little unnerving to know
you have a short fuse like that.”
“I don’t have a short fuse, and I’m taking everything that’s
happening as seriously as Lucas and David. My brother was killed by a
nuclear strike. I know this isn’t a joke.”
JW stared at her. “Your brother?”
“Never mind, not important.”
“Not important?”
“Look, all I’m saying is that we have to be careful who we trust.”
“So, it’s ‘we’ all of a sudden?” JW asked.

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“Yeah, it is. After all this craziness, I’m not just going to walk out
on you or David, especially after finding out how really bad this is. On
top of that, my dad is also working this case, so it is personal.”
“Huh,” JW grunted. “Well I think that ‘we’ has expanded to include
those two-suspicious people we pulled off the Moon. Can you stand to
be with Sarah until the end of the world?”
“Why not? I’ve been able to handle being stuck with you, right?”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
JW sighed. “I really do think you should apologize to her, though.
After that light show on the moon, I seriously doubt she or Rick are
working for our bad guy. Even if they were, after seeing how easily he
terminates his accomplices once he’s through with them, it would
certainly convince them to change sides.”
“Guess you’re right. Fine, I’ll apologize.”
“—would have to be massive,” Rick was saying as the two of them
walked back onto the bridge.
“What would?” JW asked.
“Whatever conduit Nwarht is planning on using to deploy his
weapon,” Lucas said, throwing a disapproving look at Jessica, which
she decided to ignore.
“You mean because of the number of nukes he has to detonate?”
JW asked.
“Partially that,” Rick said. “Although the way I envision the setup,
an area the size of a large warehouse should be big enough.”
“That doesn’t sound very massive to me,” Jessica commented.
“No, but the structure to enclose it, to contain the force of the
explosion, would have to be,” Rick added. “We’re talking about a
structure like Hoover Dam on steroids.”
They were all silent for a few seconds. “Where would you build
something like that?” Lucas asked.
“I wouldn’t, at least not from scratch. I would find a natural
structure and fortify it.”
“What kind of natural structure?”
“Something like a caldera.”
“Please pardon my ignorance, but what’s a caldera?” JW asked.
“Basically, the crater of a volcano,” Rick told him.

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“Oh. Why there?”

“Because that would give you a sort of foundation with the required
shape. Given the right type of caldera, all you would then have to do is
fortify it, mold the fortification to the requisite shape and voilà, EMP
cannon.”
“Interesting,” David murmured. “That thought never would have
occurred to me.”
“We’re in business,” JW said. “All we have to do is cruise around
on David’s ship and find a volcano going through rehab. How tough
can that be?”
“More difficult that you might imagine,” David replied. “I just
performed a cursory search of Earth’s geological databases. There
could be as many as 2,000 land-based volcanoes. There could be five to
ten times that many underwater throughout Earth’s oceans. Even if we
weeded out the ones whose general structure would not be compatible
with Mr. Wilkins hypothesis, it would still leave thousands of possible
candidates. Even using my ship, it would take several weeks, if not
months, to search them all. We do not have enough time for a detailed
search.”
“David’s right,” Lucas grumbled. “Plus, let us not forget, he can
hide what he’s doing with his holographic technology. Meaning we
couldn’t simply reconnoiter from the air. We would have to get boots
on the ground, so to speak, and inspect each of the sites. A pretty
daunting task given the time we have left.”
“Well, we’re not going to get it done by standing here moping about
it,” Jessica complained. “Let’s take some educated guesses and then get
going.”
“I hate to say it, but I agree with Jessica,” Sarah spoke up. “David,
can you project the database you were talking about on some kind of
screen?”
Almost before she had completed her question, a 3D geographic
model of planet Earth was floating in front of them.
“Whoa!” Rick said. “Impressive.”
“I’ll say,” Sarah agreed. “How do I zoom in?”
“Simply point to the area and the scale will increase or decrease
according to your hand movement.”
Sarah did as instructed—zooming in on various areas highlighted

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by the model. “Let’s assume that the volcano this guy is using isn’t
abnormally shaped or anything else like that. It would have to be
almost a perfect conical shape or the beam won’t be concentrated
enough when it fires.”
“In other words, it would have to be a cinder cone,” Lucas said.
Everyone looked at him. “What?” Lucas scowled. “I have my
moments.”
“No one said anything,” Jessica muttered.
Rick cleared his throat. “Anyway, Major Luca is right. It would
have to be a cinder cone and a pretty big one too.”
“Um,” JW raised his hand. “Wouldn’t it have to be extinct or
dormant as well? It would be pretty stupid of him to build his weapon
in an active volcano and then have it blow up in his face.”
“Unfortunately,” David spoke up, “I have just scanned Earth’s
surface for cinder cone volcanoes and it would appear that virtually all
of them are experiencing a dormant phase.”
“Naturally,” JW grumbled. “Just when I thought I had a good idea.”
“That’s okay,” Sarah said. She gestured to the map. “There are
hundreds of cinder cone volcanoes on Earth, but I would guess only a
handful of them are the perfect shape this guy wants. And they would
have to be fairly large, even by volcano standards.”
“I would also guess that they wouldn’t be underwater volcanoes
either,” Jessica mused. “I don’t care how many resources he has, it
would be very difficult to do construction of this magnitude
underwater.”
“Right,” Rick nodded. “So that leaves land-based, dormant, near-
perfect cinder cone volcanoes.”
“Taking all that into account, I believe I have compiled a list of
possible candidates,” David said.
He gestured to the map and a dozen red lights lit up all over the
globe.
“That’s still quite a few places to search,” Lucas grunted.
“Maybe, but I think we can narrow it down even further” Sarah
said. “Let’s go by continent and see if we can pick out some likely
suspects.”
She waved her hand and the map zoomed in on Europe. “There are
quite a few volcanoes in France but I think we can rule most of them

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out right off the bat. High population, so a greater chance of being
discovered.”
“Right. So, scratch those.”
The map rotated and zoomed in on the Americas.
“Crap—” JW gulped. “There are way more volcanoes here than I
realized.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said thoughtfully. “I don’t know though. North
America is so heavily populated and virtually every single volcano is in
a national park or at least some protected reserve, which means tourists,
park rangers and whatnot. Too much hassle.”
“True, but there are just too many to write them off just like that.”
“However,” David spoke up. “None of these are tall or well-defined
enough to be the correct ones.”
“Okay, then. Moving on.”
Jessica suddenly slapped her hand on the command console.
“This is getting us nowhere!” she exclaimed. “We’re just taking
blind guesses here and I don’t think that’s gonna fly. None of us are
exactly volcanologists.”
“You have a better idea?” Sarah challenged.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Why don’t we ask a volcanologist?”
No one spoke for a moment.
“Okay,” Lucas said slowly. “Do you happen to have one on hand?”
Jessica smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do. An old friend of mine just
happens to be one.”
She turned to David. “David, could you take us back down to
Earth? I don’t want to see my phone bill if I try to make a call from up
here. Also, there’s a friend I want to pick up on the way.”

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Caesar’s Palace: Las Vegas, Nevada

“You are so dead.”

From the hood of the car, the cat just gave him a bored look and
began cleaning its front paws. Bryce looked in dismay at the shredded
upholstery inside. The cat had completely gutted the back seat. There
were claw marks on the dashboard and paw prints on the windshield.
“I’m sorry I forgot about you, but—seriously? And how the hell did
you get out anyway? The windows are only open a crack. And why
didn’t you run off?”
The cat ignored him and started cleaning its nether regions. Bryce
made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and opened the door.
He had woken up from his dream and immediately run out of the
hotel room, much to the director’s confusion, hoping he could get to the
car fast enough. Sadly, the cat had already had a field day.
Thankfully, it hadn’t done anything other than disembowel the
seats. Still, Bryce was not looking forward to telling Kelly her custom
leather seats had been used as a scratching post for a psychotic cat.
Bryce sat down in the driver’s seat and watched as the cat
continued cleaning itself. He kept thinking of the director’s story about
his son. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the cats were one and the
same. Of course, if that were true, the cat would be over forty years old,
which was highly improbable.
Bryce felt like screaming. He didn’t understand what was going on.
In just a couple of days his life had turned upside down. He just
couldn’t seem to get out from under the crazy.
His MiWatch beeped with the found-friend ring tone, jarring him
out of his thoughts. He glanced at it, sitting bolt upright when he
realized who it was.
“Jessica! Thank God!” he exclaimed with a sigh of relief. Almost at
once, he frowned. “What the f—” The friends locator app showed her
somewhere in central Canada.
“What the heck is she doing in Canada?”

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“Mrow,” was the only response he got. The cat had apparently
decided to get back into the car.
He tapped the screen to contact her, but there was no response. He
checked the app again. It showed her location somewhere in Idaho.
“What the heck—?”
He tapped the watch a few times and checked the app again. Now it
indicated that she was…right next to him.
“Okay, that settles it,” he grumbled. “Everything’s gone crazy.” His
phone buzzed as Jessica’s face appeared on the screen.
“Bryce?”
“Jessica!?”
“Hey. Good to see you again Costa. And this time I really mean it.”

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“Jessica where the freaking hell have you been?” Bryce demanded.
“You disappeared without a trace! I’ve been going crazy looking for
you!”
Jessica looked down at Bryce, a hundred feet below her. A strange
feeling suddenly washed over her. Being back on Earth, after all that
had happened in only a few short hours, it was as though she was
seeing him for the first time.
“I’m really sorry Bryce. Things just happened so fast, I didn’t get a
chance to call you.”
Bryce made a rude sound. “Sounds typical for you. But where are
you? My stupid watch showed you in Canada about five seconds ago,
and now you’re apparently standing right next to me. What is going
on?”
“Well, I am, sort of,” Jessica responded, watching Bryce pace back
and forth next to the car.
Was that a cat following him around? And was that Kelly’s car?
“Look I’ll explain everything when you get up here, all right?”
“Get up where?”
“Just grab whatever you need right now, and I’ll see you in a few
seconds.”
After deliberating for a moment, Bryce reached down and picked
up the cat. Jessica nodded to David and the next second, a startled
looking Bryce was standing on the bridge of the ship.
“Up here,” Jessica smiled, hanging up her phone. “So how have
you been Costa?”
Bryce dropped the cat, his eyes darted around the bridge of the ship
and at the six-people standing there.
“I have been, very, very, very stressed out, that’s how I’ve been,” he
finally bit out, startling Jessica with the seething anger in his voice.
“I’ve been driving all over southern California looking for you,
been chased through a mall by maniacs who wanted to kill me, and I
had to sit through a very unpleasant conversation with your father, all
the while thinking you’d been kidnapped by those two weirdos.” He
snapped his head toward JW and David.

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“Right then,” JW grumbled. “Now that the pleasantries are out of

the way Jessica, who is this and why did us weirdos go out of our way
to pick him up?”
“Now you listen here buddy—”
“And once again,” Lucas sighed. “Can we please retain some
civility here people?”
Lucas folded his arms. “I’m assuming you’re the Bryce Costa that
Jessica told us about?”
“Uh,” Bryce gave him a wary look. “Yeah that’s me. Wait, what
exactly has she been telling you? And what is this place? Is this a cult
thing? I’m getting the feeling this is a cult thing. Is that what you’ve
been doing on the weekends Jessica?”
“Well, given our current situation, I’m hoping Jessica didn’t drag
you into this craziness for no reason. You do have a reason Jessica?”
“Naturally,” Jessica replied. She looked at Bryce. “You know that
guy we met in the library? I’m pretty sure he’s bad news, like you first
thought.”
“Yeah I kinda figured that out, when, what I assume were some of
his henchmen, tried to melt me into soup. But what made you suspect
him all of a sudden?”
Jessica glanced at JW, who was making a soft, strangled sound.
“For the sake of brevity,” Jessica said, giving JW a pointed look,
“let’s just say that he has a 30,000-year-old grudge against David here,
and he’s planning on using a doomsday weapon to bring about the end
of two worlds, ours being one of them. When David showed me his
picture, I felt like I had met him before. And then I actually did meet
this Nwarht, and I realized that guy had been him, just in some sort of
disguise.”
Jessica thought she might have seen Bryce twitch when he heard
the name ‘Nwarht’ but it was hard to tell. “Yeah well, that sounds about
right.”
Jessica frowned. “What do you mean, ‘that sounds about right?’”
Bryce put his hand on his temple. “Remember when I stayed in the
library that night after you left? I did it because I figured there must be
something there the guy wanted. Sure enough, there was a data chip
hidden in one of the books. It had details of a plan to use an arsenal of
nuclear warheads and a volcano to create a weaponized EMP pulse,

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with enough power to knock out the worldwide power grid. We’re
talking enough damage to set humanity back a few thousand years.”
Everyone on the bridge had gone silent. David was the first to
speak. “Pardon me Mr. Costa, but do you have further details?”
“Heck I have the whole thing on a data stick. I suppose that’s why
those maniacs wanted to kill me, this Nwarht guy obviously wanted it
back.” Bryce dug into his pocket and held out the data stick. “Whoever
wants it can have it, it’s brought me nothing but—”
And right in the middle of his sentence, he collapsed, almost
squashing the cat that was cleaning its paws next to him.
“Bryce!” Jessica cried. She rushed over to his side. “Gertrude, can
you tell what’s wrong with him?”
“Just a moment.”
“I see. It would appear he is suffering from some form of post-
traumatic stress. I detect extremely elevated blood pressure, and severe
lack of sleep. I am amazed he is still functioning at all.”
David grabbed a small ball from his medical shelf and sprayed
some sort of mist into Bryce’s face. “That should help stabilize him for
now.”
Lucas bent down to retrieve the data card Bryce had dropped. “Well
at the very least this should fill in some blanks.” He handed it to David.
“This may make for a good read.”
David plugged the card into the ship’s computer. Everyone watched
wordlessly as he read through the data flashing across the screen.
Jessica sat down next to Bryce and put her hand on his forehead.
“Anything?” Lucas asked after a few minutes.
“Fascinating,” David finally said. “There are all kinds of details and
possibilities involving the use of an EMP for various military purposes.
And here—a theory on how to turn it into a concentrated weapon. This
is almost exactly how Mr. Wilkins predicted it might look; a fortified
caldera of a perfect cinder cone. There are several other interesting
points, but I believe it does hold one main key element. There is a list
here of several potential sites for this device to exist.”
“Really?” JW asked with interest. “That’s a good thing, right?
That’ll help narrow down the possibilities.”
No one spoke for a moment. “Okay Jessica,” Lucas said slowly. “I
guess it’s time to call your friend and narrow the list.”

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Clark Mountain, Mojave National Preserve

Director Bustos gingerly stepped from the helicopter onto a narrow

dirt road near the top of the mountain ridge. His body felt as if he had
gone a few rounds with the MMA heavyweight champ.
He gave a thumbs-up to the pilot, who in turn gave him a quick
salute before lifting off from the side of the mountain, banking north
and disappearing into the late-afternoon haze.
Bustos looked up the hillside at the sound of Arthur’s footsteps
galumphing down the hill.
“Arthur, what have you found that is so fascinating it requires my
presence on this god-forsaken hill?”
“Richard, let me just say this—you look like warmed over dog-
shit.”
“Could be worse. The coroner could still be trying to put my parts
back together if not for a fortuitous phone call.”
“You should buy that person a drink,” Arthur quipped.
“Already have. What do you have for me?”
“Let’s go for a little hike up this lovely hill. Can you make it, or do
you need me to carry you?”
“Lead the way,” the director ordered.
They trudged up the hill along an animal trail. A few hundred yards
later, they came to a ridge occupied by several members of Arthur’s
team. Some were scouring the area, others congregating around some
type of antenna.
“You dragged me all the way up here to look at an antenna?”
“Not just any antenna, my curmudgeonly boss—a very special
antenna. Very special indeed.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s so special about it?”
“This, my good sir, is a highly sophisticated ac3 EMP amplification
antenna.”
“Of course it is. Just what…? Wait, did you say EMP
amplification?”

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“Indeed I did, Richard. You see, last night’s fireworks weren’t the
endgame. This baby is. The nuke’s sole purpose was to generate an
EMP pulse. Said pulse was then modulated and amplified by this little
beauty and fired at our satellite.”
“Which satellite did they take out?”
“You misunderstand me Richard; not a satellite, the satellite. I’m
talking about Luna, the Moon.”
“They fired an EMP pulse at the moon? Why?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s what on the moon they fired at that’s
disturbing.”
“You don’t mean—?”
“Yeah, afraid so. It’s aimed right at Luna Base.”
“Crap! Was the pulse powerful enough to do damage?”
“My guys are still reverse engineering this contraption and running
the numbers, but their preliminary findings are—scary.”
“Scary, how?”
“Richard, if their numbers are right, this device generated a pulse
strong enough to fry every electronic component on that base.”
The director’s face went ashen. “Then, all those people up there—”
Arthur silently nodded his head. “But that’s not even the truly scary
part.”
The director wasn’t sure he wanted to know any more. “Go on.”
“Richard, we don’t have anything like this.”
“You mean the ac3 antenna?”
“No, we have those—or prototypes, anyway. I’m talking about the
level of technological sophistication that could deliver that kind of
punch.”
“Who then? The Chinese? Russians?”
“No, not them either. My crew has been clearing this mountainside
of weapons the likes of which I’ve never even imagined before, much
less seen. There are plasma guns scattered through this ridge that can
pulverized a tank. There are organic-electric sensors that can detect a
flea fart a thousand yards away. These things simply do not exist.”
“Then how do you explain them?” Bustos asked, already suspecting
the answer.
“I’m going with what I suggested to you last night. I don’t know
where these things came from, but I’m quite certain they are not of this

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Earth.”
Douglas braced for some type of retort, but none was forthcoming.
The director simply rubbed his chin, deep in thought, and stared off
into the distant desert floor below. Finally, he turned back to Douglas
and gave him a friendly slap on the back.
“Thanks, Arthur. You and your team have done a superb job here.
Start wrapping it up, secure the area and go get yourself some rest. I
have to kick this upstairs. I’m not sure what this whole business is
about, but it’s obviously much bigger than just some crazy with a
couple of nukes. Heck, from what you’re telling me, nukes are
firecrackers compared to the toys these people seem to have.”
“That is indeed true my friend,” concurred Douglas. “What are you
going to tell the brass?”
“To be perfectly honest Arthur, I haven’t a clue.”
“I don’t mean to put any more on your plate than you already have,
but something about this whole thing feels—off.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why go to all this trouble and expense, just to take a potshot at
Luna Base? Not much up there but a bunch of eggheads and their very
expensive equipment.”
“What are you thinking?”
“What if this was just a trial run?”
Bustos mulled that over. “Damn. You might be right. If you are, I
think we’re all screwed.”
“Yep, my thoughts exactly.”
They walked glumly down the hillside watching the final hint of
sunlight disappear. As darkness encased them, they wondered if they
would live long enough to see another sunset; or a sunrise, for that
matter.

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 Chapter 50
Above Caesar’s Palace: Las Vegas, Nevada

“Hey Gustav. How’s it hanging?” Jessica cheerily greeted the burly

looking figure pictured on her MiPhone
“Hell must have frozen over,” Gustav Ollefson responded with a
hearty laugh.
“Oh, come on Gus, it hasn’t been that long, has it?”
“Five years, two months, eight days, 75 minutes.”
Jessica snorted. “Well, you could have called.”
“I called, left messages, sent flowers—I can take a hint.”
“Gus, I was just a kid when we knew each other.”
“Not saying I wanted to marry you. Just wanted to show my
gratitude for your superb tutorage. Never would have made it through
microbiology without you.”
“You hated my tutoring,” she replied. “Let me quote: ‘being tutored
by you, is like having an ice pick shoved into my ear.’”
“Maybe. But I got an A in the class. Seriously, Jessica, it’s really
good to talk to you again. Something tells me this is not a social call.”
“No, but it really is good to see you again. I need your help.”
“You need my help?”
“Weird, right?”
“All right, so what does the wunderkind need my help with?”
“I’m helping a friend with a research project in theoretical physics.”
“A little outside your areas of expertise, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, well, just call it a new hobby.”
“Right, cause theoretical physics is sooo much fun.”
“Look, you gonna help me or not?”
“You know I will Jess. Shoot.”
“So, we’re looking for a site where we could construct a theoretical
EMP defensive weapon system. If, for instance, we were invaded by
aliens, but we didn’t want to destroy them right away, after all they
might be friendly. This weapon would disable their communications
array and would basically incapacitate them without killing them.”

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“Okay, Jessica. That sounds weird even by your standards. Besides,

what do I know about EMP weapon systems?”
“Probably nothing. What I need from you is a suitable location. The
ideal location would be a volcano caldera, almost perfectly conical, the
interior of which could be reinforced to withstand nuclear explosions
and shaped to direct the EMP pulse. Here are the schematics.”
She tapped her phone and sent Rick’s design.
“Interesting,” Gus murmured after a moment. “Well, there are quite
few possibilities. Can you give me any additional parameters?”
“Yes. For logistical purposes, it could not be underwater. For
security reasons, it would have to be somewhat remote. The more
remote, the better.”
“You gotta give me a little more than that Jessica.”
She sighed dramatically. “I was hoping you could get it on your
own. Here, this is a list of the ones that could work the best.
Theoretically of course.”
“Now that’s too easy Jess, please. Your best bet is Mount Mayon in
the Philippines.”
Rick was shaking his head vigorously at Jessica. He pointed to the
description of the Mayon volcano on the newly focused ship’s display.”
“Gus, I’m looking at a description of Mayon and it’s classified as
an active volcano. I don’t think that would work too well. Plus, it
doesn’t seem all that remote. There appears to be a fairly large city
nearby.”
“Not anymore. If you have access, look at real time satellite
pictures of the area.”
By the time Jessica turned her head, the ship had already switched
to an aerial image of the city of Legazpi. The image of the devastation
was shocking, even from a height of several miles. The entire area,
perhaps as large as ten miles, appeared to be encased in cement.
Nothing moved. It was completely devoid of life.
“What happened?”
“I’m surprised you don’t remember. It made the world news for
several weeks in the mid-twenties.”
“Gus, I was a baby.”
“Right! Anyway, in volcanology, it is what you would call the
perfect storm. The volcano had a major phreatic event while a typhoon

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was generating massive rainfall. The resulting lahars were the deadliest
ever recorded. Although an actual death toll number was impossible, it
is estimated that as many as 40,000 people died and remain buried in
the lahars.”
“Lahars…?”
“Oh, sorry. I guess it’s my turn to tutor. Simply put, a lahar is
volcanic mudflow. The fascinating and terrifying nature of lahars is
their speed and structural consistency. They are liquid in motion but
solidify once stopped. Once they stop moving, they solidify into a
concrete like solid; permanently encasing everything they cover. Lahars
can move at over 100 kilometers per hour. Those poor people never
stood a chance.”
“How horrible,” Jessica said softly.
“Must have been. I did a thesis paper on this event and spent a great
deal of time in the area. I saw some things that I would much rather
forget. But, here is the really interesting thing—the event virtually
solidified the interior of the caldera.”
“Sorry, say that again?” Jessica requested at Rick’s silent query.
“Yeah, I know. Hard to believe, but like I said, volcanology’s
perfect storm. There was so much rain and so much material spewing
from the volcano that much of it never made its way out of the caldera
and flowed inward instead. The timing of the termination of the
eruption and the stoppage of the rains worked out perfectly so that a
large amount of lahar deposited and solidified inside the caldera,
perhaps as much as 75 to 100 feet thick. It basically ‘corked’ the
volcano.”
“Fascinating. That would make it the perfect site. You’re a genius
Gus.”
“High praise indeed. But Jessica, you’re not the only smart one
around here. I know that there is some hidden agenda behind those
pretty green eyes. What’s really going on Jess?”
“Sorry Gus, I can’t spill. But I promise you once this is over, I’ll
buy you lunch and tell you all about it.”
“Uh, uh. Whatever you’re up to Jessica, just be careful.”
“I will Gus. Thanks.” She touched her phone to disconnect,
wondering if she would live long enough to keep her promise.

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 Chapter 51

Bryce found himself walking down the paths of his hometown—a

small village in the hills outside of Huancayo in Peru. The sun was
barely rising over the hills. The road was clouded in a veil of red fog.
Bryce’s shoes crunched through the dry earth. Despite the fog and
early morning hour, the air was heavy with heat. All around him, it was
still and silent. Bryce had walked this road many times as a kid, going
back and forth from home to school and sometimes down to the city to
shop. But he hadn’t been here since he was eight, and he certainly had
never walked this way so early in the morning.
Ahead through the fog, he thought he saw several figures standing
in the middle of the road. Their features were impossible to make out,
but he could feel ripples of emotion rolling off them in palpable waves;
anger and rage, seemingly directed at him. They began to take shuffling
steps toward him, when a voice suddenly cut through the air.
“I see.”
Instantly, the figures vanished, and the red fog along with them,
revealing another scene in front of Bryce.
In the middle of an abandoned village, a woman was standing by
the edge of a river, staring up at the sky. With her blindingly white coat,
she looked like some sort of scientist, but it was hard to tell. She
adjusted her glasses and shook her head. “So, this is the course
mankind takes? Perhaps there is a chance to change? No, such a course
would require a great change in perception, a change in thinking. I
fear—that may never happen.”
As Bryce watched, his vision seemed to elongate. The woman
vanished, as time appeared to speed up. The village crumbled and the
forest grew up around it. The land shifted and changed, as high
overhead the sun and the stars and the moon chased each other through
the sky.
When everything slowed down, it was nighttime. Bryce was
standing in a very different landscape. The air seemed cleaner, the
world more vital.
He looked up at the sky. There were no stars, no moon, nothing but

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the dark expanse of night. The only light came from a shining purple
point in the sky—a distant planet he couldn’t even begin to guess the
name of.
Even as he looked at it, he felt a sudden spike of emotions; anger,
rage. Just as suddenly, an inky black hand seemed to reach up from the
surface of the Earth, encircling the planet.
Then the hand closed, snuffing out the light, and Bryce’s
consciousness along with it.
The last sound he heard was laughter, cold and inhuman, coming
from far away.

:
Bryce opened his eyes to find himself lying on a bed. He tried
sitting up, but his head was still pounding and decided to lie back
down. Despite that, he felt remarkably better than he had been feeling
lately. Hopefully it would last.
“Mrow.”
Bryce turned his head to see Mo sitting next to the bed. “Oh good,
you’re here too. Perfect.”
He pushed himself up painfully as Jessica appeared to materialize
in the room.
“Hey,” she said. “How do you feel?”
“Better I suppose, although I’m still a little fuzzy on some things.
Like what’s going on here, for instance.”
“I suppose you would be,” Jessica said, sitting down on the foot of
the bed. As briefly as she could, she filled Bryce in on everything that
transpired in the last 24 hours. He listened intently without interruption.
In the end, he simply stared up at the ceiling.
“That guy is really 175,000 years old?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.”
Jessica studied him. “I’m a little surprised. You seem to have taken
this, what I would call fantastic new information, quite in stride.”
“Trust me Jess, after what I’ve seen and been thorough lately, this is
pretty benign. Besides, I think my being here is no coincidence. I think

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it was preordained.”
“Costa, I’m a scientist. I don’t believe in predestined events.”
“Yeah, well, I guess yesterday you didn’t believe in little green men
from Mars either. But today—” he raised his eyebrows.
“Point. By the way, what’s with the cat?”
“It was your brother’s.”
“What?”
Bryce winced as he realized he’d probably made a mistake. “Um,
that’s to say—”
Jessica stood up abruptly. “That’s impossibly stupid Bryce. There’s
no way—” her voice trailed off. “Wait a minute—where exactly did
you find this cat?”
“Um, I may have been at your old house in Pasadena.”
“Why would you look for me in Pasadena? I live in Claremont.”
“Your brother kinda told me to go there.”
Jessica’s scowled. “If this is a joke Costa, it isn’t funny. You do
realize I have no brother, correct?”
“Jessica please, just listen. I’ve been having these dreams. I think
it’s your brother trying to communicate with me or something. He’s
trying to warn me about something. Your father said he had some
special abilities—”
“You talked to my dad about this?”
“I had to Jessica, I had to know what this all means. Your father
said that he never believed in what Paul saw, but that your mother did.”
Jessica expression turned stony. “My mother was a brilliant
geneticist. She wouldn’t believe in hocus-pocus stuff. And I know all
about my brother and his little talents. It’s all a bunch of bullshit. Just a
comforting little story every parent concocts in their head to make their
child seem soo special, and perfect, and brilliant. But guess what? It
doesn’t matter, because guess what? He died. Certainly didn’t see that
one coming, did he? And if he could, see things, then why they hell
didn’t he see what would happen to my mother because of him?”
Bryce started to speak, but she cut him off. “Get up and come to the
bridge. Lucas wants to talk to everyone.”
She turned and stormed out of the room so Bryce couldn’t see her
tears.

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“Good, the whole gang is here,” Lucas grunted. “Okay, listen up.
Here’s the situation as I see it. We’re reasonably sure we know where
this Nwarht fellow is going to deploy his weapon. Our best course of
action is to notify Director Bustos, fill him in on what we know, and
what we suspect, and let him deal with it. However, David here
disagrees. Normally I’m not someone who makes decisions by
committee, but this is not the norm. I will let David explain his
objections and we can then discuss appropriate courses of action.”
David nodded slightly. “What you have to understand about our
adversary is that he leaves nothing to chance. His strategies always
account for every known variable and usually many unknown ones.
Since he appears to have already interacted with some of you, he has
already factored those encounters as variables in his strategy. A direct
attack, given his skill and resources, would not have much chance—
even with the military might of your country. I am quite certain that he
has weapons that your military have not even dreamt of yet.”
Lucas folded his arms. “Is that just conjecture on your part?”
“It is conjecture of course, but think about what he’s accomplished.
He’s devised a weapon that can strike a world several hundred light
years away. Devising one that can destroy an entire aerial or naval
force would be child’s play for him. I have no doubt that he has
weapons that will render any military force sent against him, impotent
at best—completely decimated, at worse.”
“Makes sense,” Lucas nodded reluctantly. “I’ve certainly had
firsthand experience with one of those weapons. Do you have any
ideas?”
“Ideas, no. But I do have some insight into how he thinks.
Whatever course of action we employ must be predicated on variables
he cannot possibly anticipate. I believe we, singularly or collectively,
might be those variables. How best to take advantage of that, I will
leave up to you.”
“Ideas, comments?” Lucas asked the group.
“Occam’s Razor,” JW said more to himself than anyone else.

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“Care to elaborate?” Asked Lucas.

“Sorry, I was just thinking out loud about a principle I was taught in
a logic class my freshman year. Occam’s Razor is a principle in logic
and problem solving. It’s been used in many disciplines to solve
complex problems, such as the one we have before us.”
“I have just familiarized myself with the concept,” David
interrupted. “A very interesting concept, but I fail to see how it relates
to our situation.”
“Would you care to fill us ignoramuses in on what you two are
babbling about?” Bryce commented.
“At its most basic, Occam’s Razor postulates that the simplest
explanation, or solution, is oftentimes the correct one.”
“Seems reasonable,” Sarah commented. “But I’m with David—how
does this help us?”
“From what David has told us about Nwarht, his plans are
extremely intricate and allow for many variables; therefore, extremely
complex. If his plans are our problem, then our problem is very
complex. Therefore, the best way to attempt to solve our problem is to
use Occam’s Razor.”
Everyone, except Lucas was staring at JW with blank expressions.
“Sorry bud, everything you’re saying makes perfect sense, but I
don’t follow how it helps us,” Bryce finally said.
“I think I do,” Lucas said slowly. “And I’m not sure I like it.”
“Care to share?”
“Your idea JW, please elaborate,” Lucas said.
“The simplest way to defeat whatever defenses he might have, is to
not give him a reason to use those defenses.”
“And we do this how?” Jessica asked suspiciously.
“You’re gonna love this,” mumbled Lucas.
“We go in openly and unarmed.”
“Apparently, this Occam guy must have used his razor to slice his
own throat,” Bryce grumbled.
Sarah leaned forward to stare at JW. “Look, I am extremely grateful
to you for having saved our lives, so please don’t take this the wrong
way—but are you completely insane?”
“I wish he was Sarah,” Lucas said. “Unfortunately, from a strategic
standpoint, he is one hundred percent correct.”

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“No disrespect to your strategies, major, but I have to agree with

Sarah—are you both insane?” Bryce said.
Lucas shrugged. “Perhaps Mr. Costa. But if your enemy believes
that you’re crazy, it might give him pause and give you the edge that
you need.”
“Let me get this straight,” Jessica said. “You two geniuses think
that our best plan is to go knock on this maniac’s front door and
pleasantly ask him to surrender?”
“That will work,” David stated simply.
“What makes you so certain?” Jessica asked.
“Because it is the one eventuality he would not have factored into
his equations. He is a man of war. Having his adversaries walk
defenseless into his encampment is not something he would even
remotely consider. In addition, he would revel at the opportunity to—
flaunt his exploits, especially to his adversaries. It is the best plan
available to us, affording us the greatest opportunity for success.”
“What makes you believe he won’t pulverize us as soon as we
make our appearance?” Bryce asked. “Those characters he sent after
me weren’t much for conversation.”
“You are quite right Mr. Costa. There is a high likelihood that he
will kill all of you on sight. However, I am certain he will not kill me,
at least not immediately. That is why I must do this alone. I cannot
place any of you in harm’s way.”
“That’s very noble of you, David old boy,” JW said. “But
apparently you haven’t been paying close attention to what’s been
happening. We were brought together by powers we cannot possibly
understand. But clearly there was a reason. Therefore, if we are to
succeed, we have to do it as a team. If not, we fail.”
“He’s right.”
Everyone turned to look at Rick who had been silent throughout the
entire interlude.
“What makes you think so Mr. Wilkins?” Lucas asked.
“I was dead, major. I shouldn’t be here talking to you now. Yet, here
I am. The last few hours I’ve been asking myself why. There are two
answers that keep popping into my head. One is direct and personal.”
He looked over at Sarah. “The other reason is a little more…esoteric.”
“Go on.”

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“You see, just before I was revived, I knew that I had to come back.
There was something I needed to do. Something only I, or rather we,
could accomplish.”
“How did you know?” Lucas asked sharply. “You didn’t even know
we existed until you woke up.”
“Because, major, for an instant just before I revived, I knew
everything.”
“By everything, you mean—?”
Rick glanced at Sarah again. “I mean everything. Everything there
ever was; everything there ever will be; everything that has ever
happened; everything that will happen. I knew every universe, every
atom, every particle of matter and energy. In short, the essence of
everything there is.”
“Well that’s kinda handy,” Bryce said. “Since you know what’s
going to happen, it will make things a lot easier.”
Rick smiled. “I’m afraid not. I said I knew everything, in that
instant. Now, I simply have a vague feeling of that knowledge. But the
one thing I know for certain is that we have to do this together. If not,
we all die.”

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Nouveau Paris: Las Vegas, Nevada

By the time Director Bustos returned to the hotel, it was completely

dark. He thought about stopping at the café and grabbing a bite to eat,
but decided instead to go to his room, order room service and carefully
plan his course of action. It would be nice to get some input from
Lucas. He would have sworn the man was more reliable than this. And
why on Earth would his daughter need to contact him? As usual, long
on questions, short on answers. As he stepped off the elevator and
approached his room, he heard voices coming from the other side of the
door. Lots of voices. He started to reach for his gun, relaxing as he
recognized some of the speakers. He touched his thumb to the door, the
lock clicked—
“Hi Dad!” Jessica said, standing up. “Long time no see.”
The director looked over her shoulder at the five-other people
standing around the room. “Well, if I had known I was throwing a party
I would have stopped for some champagne.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to gang up on you like this, but—”
“Major Lucas, nice of you to come in from the cold,” the director
interrupted. “You seemed to have healed remarkably well—and fast.”
“It’s a long story, sir. And, part of the reason why we are all here.”
Bustos looked at Rick and Sarah. “You two are a new addition to
the entourage.”
“Rick Wilkins, astrophysicist,” Rick said, extending his hand. “And
this is Sarah Ruben, engineer extraordinaire and my savior at Luna
Base.”
The director continued staring at them, trying to decide if he was
being toyed with. Luna Base. How interesting.
“How recently were you two at Luna Base?”
“Perhaps I should answer that,” Jessica offered.
“By all means,” the director said warily, unsettled by the tone in her
voice.
“Before I do, Dad, you have to promise to hear me out and keep an

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open mind. In fact, may I suggest a nice stiff drink before I start?”
“What I would really like is a brief talk with Major Lucas first. If
you all don’t mind.”
Before anyone could answer, Bustos ushered Lucas through the
connecting door to the adjoining room.
“If I’d known the rooms were this nice, I would have spent more
time here,” Lucas commented dryly, walking over to the window.
“So, major, looks as if you’ve been a little busy. The question is,
doing what?”
Lucas could hear the displeasure in the director’s voice. He stared
at the director for a few moments, wondering how best to answer the
question.
“Sir, if anyone had told me this morning what I am about to tell
you, I would have thought them non-compos mentis. But, as you told
me yesterday, no matter how unbelievable or unpleasant the truth is, it
is still the truth, no matter how much you want it not to be.”
“The philosopher has returned.”
“Just laying the groundwork sir.”
“I’ve already heard some pretty unbelievable things today,” Bustos
said wearily. “Get on with it.”
“All right, let’s keep it simple then. The person responsible for the
nuclear detonations is not from this planet. And sometime in the next
few days, he is planning to unleash what amounts to Armageddon. If
we don’t stop him, all life on Earth will likely perish.”
Lucas paused for a moment, watching the director for a reaction.
Much to his surprise, he saw none. He simply stood there looking back
at him, with absolutely no expression. After a few moments, Bustos
walked over to the window and stared out at the street below.
“Less than an hour ago, Arthur told me basically the same thing.
So, unless both of you have simultaneously gone off the deep end, I
have to believe there is a fair amount of truth in what you are telling
me.”
He turned back to face Lucas. “Before you go into any details, just
answer me one thing. Do you believe it?”
“Director, in the last 24 hours I have been shot at by a weapon I
couldn’t even dream existed. I have gone to the moon and back in a
matter of hours on a ship with no discernible propulsion. I saw my own

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severe wounds heal in a matter of seconds and I witnessed a nuclear

explosion up close and personal and lived to tell about it. Yes, I believe
that this David fellow is an extra-terrestrial and I also believe he is in
pursuit of another extra-terrestrial, one who’s hell-bent on destroying
himself, his former world, and the rest of us as collateral damage.”
The director seemed to consider that. “Well then, it seems I have to
go along with this. Tell me what you know, what you suspect and
possible action plans.”
“This whole thing appears to boil down to simple revenge, clichéd
as it may be. About 3,000 decades back, this David exiled our mister X
on planet Earth. For brevity’s sake I will spare you the details, but
suffice it to say that over the last 35,000 years, a huge amount of
resentment has festered in mister X, and a huge amount of remorse has
manifested in David, who apparently is the person responsible.
Obviously, this race is very long-lived, so in addition to having all that
time to get really pissed off, he’s also had ample time to accumulate a
huge fortune, more than enough to enable him to accomplish his
twisted plan. If that isn’t strange enough, apparently that group in the
other room, including your daughter, seems to have some metaphysical
connection to David and Nwarht.”
“Who is Nwarht?”
“He is our Mr. X.”
“How is he going to exact his revenge? Arthur seems to think he
plans to use nuclear detonations to create an EMP pulse, and that the
other night was just a dress rehearsal.”
“Smart guy, that Arthur. That is exactly what Nwarht is planning to
do. But on a massive scale.”
“How massive?” Bustos asked, grimly.
“According to Mr. Wilkins, somewhere north of 20,000
simultaneous detonations of 60-plus megatons.”
“How could he have possibly acquired that many weapons? I don’t
care how much money this guy has, there is no way he could have
gotten his hands on that much fissionable material without me getting
wind of it. Unless—” The director’s face went ashen.
“Sir?”
“Unless the world’s nuclear arsenals were never destroyed. Unless,
the dismantlement that I was in charge of never took place.”

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Director Bustos sat down and rested his head on the palms of his
hands.
“How could I have let this happen? I devoted my life to making
sure these weapons would never again threaten mankind, yet here we
are on the verge of being completely annihilated by the very weapons I
was supposed to have destroyed.”
“Sir, I’m not sure what happened, but at this point it’s irrelevant,”
Major Lucas said firmly. “We have to focus on what needs to be done
to stop this Nwarht character.”
Bustos took a deep breath, frustrated at his moment of self-pity.
“You’re right major. Sorry for that momentary lapse.”
“No need for apologies. Also, if we are to believe your daughter’s
friend, all that has taken place had to have happened, exactly as it did. I
don’t understand it myself, but to paraphrase, ‘There are more things
on heaven and earth—”‘
“Then are dreamt of in your philosophy,” the director finished.
“Indeed major, indeed. Let’s rejoin the party in the other room.”
The others were talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, as the
two of them came back into the room.
“Did the major fill you in on our intergalactic adventure?” Jessica
asked hesitantly.
“The basics,” he nodded. “I’m still a little sketchy on the details,
but, then again, I probably don’t want to know. Do I?”
“I guess that depends on how many details we need to fill in, in
order for you to go along with our plan,” Jessica said.
“Your plan? You know about this plan, major?”
The major shrugged his shoulders and turned up his palms. “I
figured it was best they tell you themselves. For the record, I believe it
has the best potential. Unless you already have something in mind,
sir?”
“My plan is that we find this Nwarht, I call NORAD, and we rain
down some Hellfire missiles on his ass, that’s my plan.”
“Dad, have you been drinking?” Jessica exclaimed. “You’re the one
with the nuclear physics degree, so correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t
nuclear weapons tend to detonate if you start setting off explosives near
them?”
“Possible, but highly unlikely. But, by all means, let’s hear your

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plan.”
Jessica looked at her father, trying to gauge how he would take this.
“Our plan is to simply walk in, unarmed, and once inside, figure out a
way to stop him.”
“Are you serious?” the director asked after closing his mouth.
Turning around he picked up the phone. “Room service? Yes, please
send up several pots of coffee. Four should be fine. Thank you.” He
hung up the phone and turned back toward the group.
“All right, I’ll keep an open mind. What on earth makes you believe
that this madman wouldn’t simply kill you on sight? He did his
damnedest to get rid of me and the major.”
“And me,” Bryce added.
“And us,” Sarah said.
“I was almost one of his victims too,” JW put in.
“All right, so it appears my daughter is the only one in this room
that is not in Mr. Nwarht’s crosshairs. I ask again, why would he not
kill us all as soon as we came anywhere near him?”
“Ego,” Jessica said.
The director contemplated his daughter’s answer for a few
moments. He turned to the major.
“Major, you never did tell me why David exiled Nwarht on our
lovely planet.”
“Oh boy,” JW mumbled.
“Jessica, you know him best, so I’ll leave the explanation up to
you,” Lucas said.
“Humph,” Jessica said. “Thanks, pal.” She looked at her dad. “All
right Dad, it’s like this—David and his people created Nwarht and
many like him to basically fight their wars for them. Turns out they
were really, really good at it. Things didn’t work out quite right so they
dumped them here on Earth.”
“Them? You mean there’s more than one of him?”
“As far as we know, no. There is only one of him. But technically
there are billions like him here on Earth.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Us. The people that David exiled here are our ancestors.”
“Our ancestors?” the director asked darkly. “So, what you’re trying
to tell me is that all our creationist and evolutionary theories are not

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only wrong, but that we’re really just a—mistake?”

“Basically, yes.”
“You don’t really expect me to believe this, do you?”
Jessica felt for her father. He wasn’t a fervent practitioner of his
religion, but having been raised a Christian this was not the type of
information he could easily digest.
“Look Dad, I know this is hard to accept, heck it’s hard for any of
us to accept, but you know this has been one of my theories for a long
time.”
“Jess, you’ve had a great many theories over the years, and frankly
I always thought this one was the craziest.”
“Gee, thanks,” she mumbled under her breath.
“How do we know that what David is telling us is the truth?”
Bustos pressed. “Yes, I know—you’ve been to the moon and back on
his ship, but how do you know this story about our ancestors being
created by them is true?”
They all looked back and forth at each other. After all they had
seen, none of them had considered that anything David told them might
not be the truth.
Lucas spoke up first. “I guess none of us had considered that.”
Bryce frowned uncertainly. “But why would he lie?”
“Why? He’s from an alien race we know nothing about. We know
nothing about their wants, desires, motives. We know nothing about
him, or his people, other than what he’s chosen to tell us. Maybe it’s all
true, maybe not, but until we know for sure, we cannot afford to make
any plans based solely on the information he’s given us.”
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Jessica spoke up in
a quiet voice. “I trust him.”
“Jessica, he confirms a theory of yours, which can’t be proven. Of
course you want to believe him, he validates you.”
Jessica jumped to her feet, and whirled on her father. “Validates
me?” she shouted in disbelief. “I do not need anyone to validate me.
Not him, not you, not anyone. My work stands for itself.” She stormed
out of the room, attempted to slam the door, and became even angrier
when the door spring kept it from slamming. She turned, grabbed the
door handle and pulled as hard as she could, getting a firm thud for her
efforts.

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Lucas was the first to speak. “This may be out of line sir, but that
was a bit harsh.”
“You might be right, Major. But sometimes she gets so locked in on
her ideas that she loses focus of the big picture.”
“She feels that she’ll never be smart enough sir,” Bryce said quietly.
The director frowned at him. “What are you talking about? She’s
the smartest person I know. Heck, probably the smartest person I’ve
ever known.”
“No, she’s not. She’s trying to live up to someone else’s standards,
knowing she will never be able to. She feels nothing she ever
accomplishes will compare to…you know.”
The director said nothing. He simply walked to the window and
stared out into the Las Vegas skyline. He felt the cool night air radiate
through the pane onto his palms as he rested his hands on the window.
A small part of him wished the window would give way, allowing him
to plunge the 40 stories to his death. Another of his father’s many
aphorisms came to him: Life sucks, and then you die. Except some
people didn’t even have that to look forward to. He started to imagine
what it must be like to live with guilt and remorse for tens of thousands
of years.
He turned away from the window and faced Lucas. “Major, I think
it’s time I had a long talk with David.”
He turned to Bryce. “Mr. Costa, please talk to Jessica. You seem to
be in a very small minority of people to whom she actually listens.”
“Well I don’t think we’re really on speaking terms—” Bryce
grimaced. “I mean, of course. I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
Lucas turned to Bryce. “If I had to guess, I would say she’s headed
back to David’s ship. Go on ahead and talk to her. There are a few
things the rest of us need to discuss and then we’ll catch up with you.”

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Bryce found Jessica sitting on the fountain in front of the hotel,

staring up at the night sky.
“Jessica, can we talk?”
She glanced at him and shrugged. He sat down next to her and
dipped his hand into the water. “I’m sorry for what happened back on
the ship. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Jessica didn’t look at him, but she shook her head. “I wasn’t upset
with you. You just brought up memories I’ve repressed for a long
time.”
Bryce was silent. Eventually Jessica turned to him. “Do you know
why I got interested in microbiology?”
“Because you’re a nerd.”
Jessica smiled for a moment. “Well yeah. Like, duh, right? But the
real reason was my mother. Did you know she was a brilliant
scientist?”
“Duh back at you. I’ve even had to study some of the theories she
published.”
Jessica acknowledged that with a nod.
“She was true genius. She was on the verge of developing a cure for
virtually all diseases by modifying regular cells into stem cells.”
“Not my field of expertise, but is that even possible?”
“I read all of her work, including her personal journals, when I was
growing up. It was the only way I had of getting to know her, since my
father didn’t talk about her much. Anyway, turns out that she could
genetically modify cells into any type of stem cell. Skin cells into heart
cells, for instance. She could then introduce them into a diseased heart
and basically turn that heart into a healthy young heart. And, because
those cells were from the patient’s own body, no danger of rejection.
Just think of the ramifications.”
“Yeah, immortality, right? Like what we were talking about the
other day. Is that why you’re so determined to learn about that stuff? To
continue her work?”
“Basically. Because after my brother died, she lost all interest in her

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work and after…” Jessica trailed off. “But—anyway. That cat you
found? You’re right, he was my brother’s cat.”
“But how is that possible? He would have to be like 40 by now—
oh.”
“I see you got it. When Mo was on his last legs, she decided to try
some cell therapy on him. But for some reason she was unable to
replicate her experiments with feline cells. Nothing seemed to work
properly, no matter what she did.”
Jessica looked down at the water in the fountain. “What she did
next, many people, myself included, would consider highly unethical.
She took skin cells from my brother and reengineered the DNA to
mimic feline DNA. She then converted those to various embryonic
cells, injected them into Mo and there you have it. A 40-year-old cat.”
Bryce looked down at the water as well. “You’re right about one
thing, your mother was one smart cookie.”
“Smart cookie? Bryce, she thought on a plane I can’t even imagine.
Reading her journals was like being inside her mind. She could
visualize the solution to a problem holistically. When she was in a
deep-thinking mode, she could see the whole universe and how all the
pieces fit to make the whole.”
“She sounds pretty remarkable all right. How old were you when
she—?”
“Died? I was about three.”
“Do you remember her at all?”
“Only vaguely. Still, I miss her so much. But sometimes I’m so
angry with her I could just—never mind. I doubt I’ll ever be able to
live up to her standards. Hers or my brother’s.”
“You know that you should never measure yourself by other’s
standards,” Bryce said. “You’re better than that.”
Jessica shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe,” she said softly.

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“So, exactly how does one board a starship?” the director said with
only mild sarcasm.
The six of them were standing on the lawn in the exact spot where
Jessica and the others had been elevatored up earlier. JW had gone
ahead and helped David disable all the surveillance cameras on this
side of the casino, replacing the contents with a continuous loop so as
not to attract suspicion.
“Do you like roller coaster rides, Dad?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, then you’re probably not going to enjoy this very much.
Ready?”
“Are you going to give me a heads-up about what’s coming?”
“Where’s the fun in that? Just hang on to me.”
Knowing what to expect, Jessica did not feel the disorientation of
her earlier ride. Her father, on the other hand, had a face completely
devoid of color and his knees appeared ready to buckle. To his credit,
his face remained stoic and devoid of expression.
“You all right Dad?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I told you I love roller coaster rides.”
“Mr. Bustos, welcome aboard my ship,” David said coming
forward. He held out his hand to the director, who was thankful to
finally find someone without an iron-grip handshake.
With the feeling of disorientation rapidly dissipating, Bustos looked
around the bridge of the ship. He was underwhelmed. Science fiction
movies had probably skewed his view of what a starship bridge should
look like. However, this was far removed from any expectations.
“Cool, isn’t it Dad?”
“Understated simplicity would be a more apt description,” Bustos
replied.
“Thank you. I consider that a tremendous compliment Mr. Bustos.
We strive for simplicity in our existence. It is our life philosophy which
carries through to our designs and technology.”
“I see,” he replied. “Please call me Richard.”

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“Richard,” David repeated. “May I offer you a beverage? Some tea

perhaps?”
“Yes, please. A cup of tea sounds wonderful.”
“Excellent!” David said disappearing as he went behind the
partition field.
“Neat trick.”
“Pretty much what I said when I first saw it,” JW said. “Welcome to
Oz.”
“It’s certainly not the world of Star Wars, is it?”
“Or any of those other cheesy sci-fi shows,” Jessica said. “It is sooo
much cooler.”
The director shrugged. “I must admit I expected something...
different.”
“Yeah,” JW grinned. “I imagine we all did. As for myself, I wasn’t
in much shape to appreciate the aesthetics when I woke up here. But
having now had a chance to inspect and learn how this ship functions,
it is truly a marvel. Say Gerty, could you please deactivate the
protection screen? Show Mr. Bustos the view.”
“If you wish.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” JW said dryly.
“I was simply attempting to clarify your usage of the word ‘could’.
By could, you might have been inquiring as to my ability to perform the
task, as opposed to requesting that I do so.”
JW made the shape of a gun with his thumb and forefinger and
placed it against his temple. “Gertrude, I know that you are quite
capable of deactivating the screen. So, would you please do so?”
“Of course. May I also be so bold as to suggest that there is a tone
of tension in your voice?”
“Trouble in paradise?” The director asked mockingly.
“She’s been—problematic since I installed the modifications.”
“Really JW?” Jessica demanded. “More modifications? The last
ones almost got you killed, which is fine by me. But monkeying around
with this ship’s systems could get us all killed. Not fine by me.”
“Relax, worrywart. The ship won’t allow any modifications that
would endanger us. I’m simply increasing Gert’s and by extension the
ship’s memory capacity by infusing it with DNA memory strands.”

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“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Back up a second. You’ve developed

dynamic computer memory that’s DNA-based?” Jessica asked
excitedly.
“I didn’t develop it, but I figured out how to use it. You’re familiar
with DNA computing?”
“Well, duh! I’m a molecular biologist. What do you think I was
doing at that snoresville conference where I ran into you? Whose DNA
are you using anyway?”
“Mine, why?”
“Do you really think that’s such a good idea?”
“Why not?” JW countered. “My DNA is as good as anyone’s.”
“No, it’s not. Have you forgotten your—modifications?”
“Oh, crap.”
“Precisely.”
“This is all very interesting,” interjected the director. “But, the view
hasn’t improved much.”
“Gerty?” JW called out in a slightly shaky voice. “Everything all
right?”
“Perhaps not, JW. It appears that your original ambiguous query as
to my abilities, was accurate. I am not able to comply with your latest
request.”
“Oh boy! Jessica, you might want to come with me. I have a feeling
your expertise might come in handy.”
They rushed out just as David was returning with a tray full of
beverages.
“Where are they going?” David asked. “I brought them both coffees
as that seems to be their desired beverage.”
“From what I could gather,” Bustos explained, “there is some type
of computer malfunction. JW asked the computer to open the shades so
I could have a better view and it seems she has forgotten how.”
“Fascinating. If by shades you are referring to the protection screen,
I would be happy to open that for you.”
He walked over to the control console and after a few hand
movements, the screen disappeared, replaced by the full neon glory of
the Las Vegas nocturnal landscape. After a few seconds recovering
from the vertigo induced by the mid-air suspension, Bustos whistled
softly.

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“That is what I call a million-dollar view.”

“Yes, it is quite spectacular,” David agreed. He picked up his teacup
and slowly sipped the beverage. “It seems we have a lot to discuss
Richard.”
“Indeed we do,” Bustos replied. He picked up a cup and leaned
back in his chair, staring intently into the perfectly serene face of the
alien.

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With Jessica and JW off attempting to fix whatever was bugging the
computer, and Bustos and the alien having their tête-à-tête, Bryce
decided to explore the ship.
It was much larger than it appeared. He was walking down a
corridor when he ran into Rick sitting on the floor by himself, his back
against the wall.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Not much. Just sitting here contemplating the cosmos.”
“Well, I guess that’s what you guys do, right?”
“Pretty much. Although more accurately I should have said that I’m
sitting here contemplating what’s beyond the cosmos,” Rick added.
“This have anything to do with your, um…experience?”
“Probably.”
“Mind if I join you?” Bryce asked politely.
“Please do. You’ll find that this floor is remarkably comfortable.”
“Wow, it is,” Bryce said as he sat next to Rick. “Can I ask you
something?”
“Does it having anything to do with astrophysics?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then go right ahead,” Rick told him. “Don’t feel much like talking
shop.”
“When you had your, uh… whatever you had—”
“You mean my near-death experience?”
“Yeah,” Bryce said. “What did you see exactly?”
“It wasn’t so much what I saw, as what I felt. Why?”
Bryce shifted. “The dreams I’ve been having lately, they don’t feel
like dreams. I sense that wherever I am, it’s a real place and I keep
running into Jessica’s brother. Her dead brother. Anyway, I’m
wondering if perhaps it’s a place similar to where you were.”
“You think you are somehow going to the place of death every
night?” Rick asked.
“Sure feels like it. What did it feel like, being—you know, dead?”
Rick stared off, seeming to be looking at nothing in particular.

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“Peaceful, I guess I’d say,” Rick began after a moment. “I

remember these creatures, beings, or whatever you want to call them,
not wanting me leave.”
“What did they look like?”
“Hideous, from what I remember. But, I’m not even sure if I
actually saw them, or simply—felt their presence. I felt their sorrow,
but mostly I felt their loneliness. There was also joy, sheer joy at the
prospect that I would be joining them. A joy I shared, which is why I
didn’t want to come back.”
“What changed your mind?” Bryce asked, leaning slightly closer to
him.
Rick didn’t answer right away. He searched his memory and
feelings for that moment where he had been torn between two
existences. The feeling hadn’t changed.
“Sarah,” he finally replied.
They were both silent, lost in their own thoughts.
“You know what else happened to me there?” Rick asked quietly.
Bryce shook his head.
“For a moment, just before I came back, I knew everything.”
“Right, you said,” Bryce acknowledged. “But how?”
“I just remember knowing, but not what I actually knew. Simply
vague impressions. I can tell you one thing with certainty though.
There was no such thing as the Big Bang.”
Bryce chuckled. “So, you’re an astronomer that no longer believes
in the Big Bang Theory. Isn’t that kinda of like a priest who doesn’t
believe in the pope?”
“I wouldn’t know. Not Catholic. Never was much of a believer in
the Big Bang though.”
“But isn’t that like the astrophysics holy grail?” Bryce inquired.
“I suppose proving it, or disproving it, would be. But there are
many scientists that are skeptical of its validity.”
“Why?”
“Many reasons,” Rick replied. “Mostly because mathematical and
physics laws start to fall apart as you approach the theoretical
singularity. There is also the inconvenience of time.”
“Huh?”
“If the universe did not exist prior to the Big Bang, then time did

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not exist. If no time, no Big Bang. If no Big Bang, no time. Impossible

paradox.”
“Not sure I follow you, bro,” Bryce told him.
“Without boring you with all the math, imagine this: An explosion
will occur at exactly 12:00AM which will create the universe and, by
definition, time. The problem is that for the explosion to occur at
12:00AM, there has to be an 11:59.999PM. The problem is that there
can’t be an 11:59.999PM; because time doesn’t exist yet. No time, no
boom. No boom, no universe, To me, however, it’s all academic now
anyway, because it’s no longer a theory for me, it’s a certainty. There is
no Big Bang, no string theory, no branes—”
“Brains?”
“B-R-A-N-E-S. It’s a multi-universe, multi-dimensional theory.”
“Okay,” Bryce said slowly, getting that squirmy feeling familiar
from classes he attended too rarely. “So you don’t believe any of these
are valid?”
“You haven’t been listening, Bryce. I don’t need to believe. I
know.”
“But you told me you didn’t remember,” Bryce argued.
“I don’t remember the specifics, no. But I remember the essence.
The universe didn’t come into existence. It was created.”
“But Rick, how can you be certain that what you experienced
wasn’t some type of brain vapor that was trying to make sense out of
the situation?”
“Like dreaming?”
“Well yeah, like drea…” Bryce trailed off.
“Except you don’t believe your dreams are dreams. I know I wasn’t
dreaming or having a dream equivalent,” Rick declared. “It was real.
Just as real as you and me sitting here talking. Possibly as real as the
things you see in your dreams.”
“But it isn’t natural to be having dreams like that,” Bryce insisted.
“Like seriously, it’s not.”
“Look,” Rick began patiently, “just to make it more relatable—
some of the indigenous people of North America used to participate in
rituals for rites of passage. We call them vision quests, but that’s just a
white person umbrella term. Anyway, the visions they had during those
rituals were very real to them. As a matter fact, what they saw often

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determined their future path and purpose in life. To them their visions
were as real as anything else they experienced in their lives. Perhaps
the dreams you have are similar.”
“So you don’t think I’m totally nuts?” Bryce asked, sounding more
eager than he’d intended. “You believe they actually mean something?”
“I would almost guarantee it.”
Bryce thought about that. “You said you’re not Catholic, but do you
believe in God? You must now.”
“No, not really. Not in the traditional theological sense.”
“So, do you think those—beings—you felt, they created
everything?”
“Yes,” Rick replied, nodding firmly.
“But if you don’t believe they’re God, what are they?”
“That, my friend, is one of the things I’ve been sitting here
contemplating. The best I’ve come up with is that they are beings that
are not that much different from us, but separated from us by
dimensional differences.”
“Why do you think they were so joyous at your impending arrival?”
Bryce wondered.
Rick shrugged. “I’m not sure. Like I said, I sensed a profound
loneliness, maybe they just long for some companionship which we can
only provide once we die.”
Bryce frowned. “I saw creatures in one of my dreams too. Just
briefly. But I didn’t sense joy or anything like it from them.”
“Probably a good thing for you,” Rick said wryly. “Because if you
were in the same place and they were glad to see you, that means
you’re dead.”
“Or, that I’m about to die.”
“Probably,” Rick agreed
“Thanks for sugarcoating it.”
“You didn’t let me finish, Bryce. There might be different…doors,
or better yet, windows that allow some of us a glimpse into that realm.”
“Okay, but if they’re so lonely, wouldn’t they be happy to have me
visit? I can assure you, all I felt was a whole lot of hate, and anger. And
it was like it was directed at me specifically.”
“We haven’t established for certain that we’ve actually visited the
same place,” Rick mused. “Assuming we did, we would be perceived

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much differently. My visit would be expected and welcome. Yours

might be surprising and threatening.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they be afraid of me?” Bryce
asked, feeling moderately insulted.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Unless…” Bryce’s voice trailed off.
“Unless what?”
“I think I just realized the differences in our experiences. We were
in the same place, technically. And those creatures were the same. But I
know why what we felt was different.”
“How’s that?”
“Because I’m not dead yet. And they know it. They aren’t afraid of
me specifically, they’re afraid of us. Those creatures are afraid of
humans.”
Rick frowned. “But why?”
Bryce sighed. “I don’t know. But I don’t want to think about this
anymore. It hurts my head thinking about all this esoteric crap. There
are more immediate things to worry about.”
Bryce stood up to leave, then looked down. “Can I ask you one
more thing, Rick?”
“Sure.”
“Does this all feel orchestrated? All this talk about dying and
visiting a place after death…I almost feel like someone is leading us
around, making us do what they want.”
Rick frowned. “Like predestination you mean? I think that’s an
unanswerable question Bryce. Even if it’s true, and there is something
greater than us out there, I choose to believe we make our own choices.
And even after all this, no matter what happens next, I’m going to go
on believing that.”
Bryce smiled to himself. “Me too, Rick. Me too.”

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Somewhere above Las Vegas

The director stared intently at the alien. He had listened to his story
without interruption and now looked at him, digesting the information
and looking for any sign of deception. He saw none. That didn’t mean
much. He was an alien, after all. Who knew what type of technological
or biological agents he might have at his disposal that could distort the
director’s thoughts or feelings. Still, his instincts told him David was
being truthful—mostly.
“You seem to be judging me less harshly than the others did,
Richard.”
“They’re young. They have not had to make the types of decisions
you and I have been faced with.”
“They have not yet faced their Kobayashi Maru,” David said.
“Sorry, I’m not familiar with that expression.”
“No, I suppose not. The Kobayashi Maru was an unwinnable
scenario in a fascinating science fiction series that JW introduced me
to. I have been…watching the series and subsequent movies during my
rest period.”
“I’m surprised you have any time to rest.”
“We do not have the need to sleep as you do. We do require a rest
period to empty our mind, similar to your REM sleep. I have found that
watching these shows does a remarkable job of emptying my mind.”
“Yes, I imagine that’s why they used to call sitting in front of a
television, veg’ing out.”
“It does have a rather hypnotic quality.”
They stared at each other. After a moment, the director nodded.
“There are certain responsibilities that come with friendship, David.
Honesty being one of them. What are you not telling me?”
“Everything I have told you, my friend, has been the complete
truth.”
“I believe you,” the director said earnestly. “But I don’t believe you
told me that story about an old television show just to make

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conversation. What is it you’re trying so hard not to tell me?”

“It would be simply conjecture on my part.”
“Informed conjecture when formulating a plan can be just as
important as hard facts,” Director Bustos said firmly.
David nodded. “Perhaps. There was a time, Richard, when I
despised humans. They were an abomination we created. And for that I
hated myself, and my people almost as much. As I observed the planet
and learned of the atrocities humans have committed over the ages, I
despised them even more. If humanity were eradicated, it would have
been of no great concern to me. Then, I saved JW. He gave me a new
insight into humanity and I started to see the rectitude that existed
alongside the maliciousness. I marvel at the internal strife humans
struggle with daily. Now, after meeting Rick, Sarah, Bryce, Major
Lucas, your daughter and you, my friend; I feel that I am facing my
own Kobayashi Maru.”
“How so? If you save your planet, you save us—correct?”
“I am afraid that might not be so.”
Bustos looked at him suspiciously. “Again, what are you not telling
me?”
“If I succeed in having Nwarht kill me, and himself in the process,
it is highly probable that the Scaeva will sense it,” David explained. “If
they do, they will probably also sense how I died and interpret that as a
threat. They will come, and they will kill every human they find. They
will take no prisoners. They simply exterminate their enemies.”
“As you yourself pointed out, humans are fairly good at making
war. I’m sure we could put up a pretty good fight.”
David made a sound similar to a scoff. “I am sure you would
Richard. But imagine fighting a superior opponent with superior
numbers, technology, physiology, tactics and the ability to anticipate
your every move.”
“You just told me that our ancestors almost defeated them,” Bustos
pointed out.
“Yes, but remember that initially the Scaeva did not put up a fight,
by the time they did they were outnumbered almost 10,000 to 1. Yet,
they won. Now imagine they arrive here with the advantages I just
mentioned and outnumbered you by a factor of a thousand. The
outcome would be—”

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“A certainty,” the director finished, his expression dark.

David said nothing.
“How much time would we have?” he asked the alien.
“Scaeva technology is currently devoted to system acquisition,
terraforming and inter-species connections. All of these functions are in
relative proximity to their world, as there is a plethora of planetary rich
systems within a few light years. They collectively focus their energy
and attention on whatever they deem to be most important to their
species. Therefore, deep space exploration is not currently part of their
resource allocation. However, once they sense the perceived threat
precipitated by my death, they will allocate all available resources to
long-range exploration. Once that happens, Earth’s destruction is a
forgone conclusion. My best estimate is that you would have
somewhere between 500 to 1000 years before they arrive.”
“That will give us some time to prepare. Perhaps we can find a way
to defeat them.”
“Richard, maybe I did not explain myself clearly. They cannot be
defeated.”
“You still don’t fully understand humanity, do you? Perhaps we
cannot defeat them in battle, but there are many ways to achieve
victory. To quote a great military mind: ‘The greatest victory is when
the enemy surrenders of its own accord. To subdue the enemy without
fighting is the acme of skill.’”
David was silent for a moment. “Sun Tzu. Interesting you should
quote him, as he is the epitome of what I was earlier trying to express
about humanity—a military strategist who abhorred war.”
“I’m not so sure he abhorred it as much as he understood it. And he
understood that if it was necessary to make war, you had already lost.
Therefore, the only way to win a war is to never fight it.”
“Those are fine sentiments, my friend, but how do you not fight an
opponent who is determined to destroy you?” David asked.
“I’m not sure. But, we have at least 500 years to figure it out. Or
better yet, we find a way to stop your friend Nwarht without him killing
you.”
“I wish that were possible, but I fear that it will not be.”

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Everyone gathered on the bridge, all eyes on the director. Jessica

and JW had managed to restore and upgrade the computer memory
with minimal damage. The system, now fully integrated with Gertrude,
was linked directly to all their phones. The ship would be Plan B if it
came to that. David had insisted on them having an escape plan.
“All right,” the director said. “Major Lucas, would you be so kind
as to brief us on our battle plan.”
Lucas cleared his throat. “We believe that we have located Nwarht.
If we approach him unarmed, it is the general consensus that he will not
destroy us on sight. The plan is to fly in on an unarmed plane. Once
we’re in, we try to figure out a way to stop him. If everything goes to
hell, we whistle and David’s ship comes in to save the day. That’s
pretty much it.”
“I believe that you have taken the concept of briefing to a whole
new level.”
“Frankly sir, there really isn’t much more to it than that. We don’t
know for certain that the location we’ve identified is the site of
Nwarht’s actual weapon. And even if it is, we don’t know that he won’t
just kill us on sight. We don’t know what kind of security forces he has
or if we can overpower them. Finally, were not even sure we will be
able to successfully deactivate the weapon. It’s basically one step at a
time. The ultimate fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants mission.”
“And yet, it’s all we have,” the director agreed. “All right everyone,
get some rest. One way or another this ends tomorrow.”

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45,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean
Monday, September 17th, 2046

The Global 9000h cruised silently over the central Pacific Ocean
just under Mach 4. Built for comfort rather than speed, it could
nevertheless reach any place on planet Earth in under six hours.
Although it could carry as many as 25 passengers, in its current
configuration, with its oversized seating that folded into full size beds,
it accommodated just eight passengers, albeit all of them in luxurious
comfort. Unlike most other hover-jet dual propulsion jet/turbofan
configurations, the 9000h used good old-fashioned vertical propellers
hidden inside the fixed wing. The props would deploy in hover mode,
allowing the craft to take off and land vertically, should the pilot elect
to do so. What it gave up in aesthetics during hover, it more than made
up for in fuel economy and reduced decibel levels. Although Major
Lucas was ostensibly flying the plane, the advanced avionics of the
aircraft were perfectly capable of navigating to its destination and
landing it on the head of a pin, if necessary.
For Lucas, there was no way he was going to let some second-rate
microprocessor take the controls from him. It had been way too long
since he had flown anything as beautiful as this machine. What amazed
him most about the aircraft was the quiet. Bombardier’s newest
thorium-electric jets put out 50,000 lbs. of thrust without the
thunderous roar of traditional jets. However, to an old-time pilot like
Lucas, the quiet was slightly disconcerting. Still, there was no denying
he was thoroughly enjoying what was his first solo flight in a very long
time. To the southwest, the Hawaiian island chain was starting to come
into view. Lucas reached for the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We are
approaching the beautiful island of Hawaii. Unfortunately, that is not
our destination. Given our current situation and future prospects, or
lack thereof, and since this might be the closest we get to ever visiting
this beautiful tropical paradise, I will do a flyover at a few thousand

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feet for your viewing enjoyment. Mahalo.”

“The major is certainly enjoying himself,” Jessica commented to
her father, sitting in the seat directly across from her.
“Kind of like a kid with a new toy.”
“Yeah, well it’s a heck of a toy. Where did you pick this baby up?”
“The Air Force trash bin.”
“Yeah right,” Jessica said, rolling her eyes. “The old Air Force,
maybe. The new Air Force runs a pretty tight fiscal ship.”
“True, for the most part. Occasionally, however, something slips
through the cracks. This baby is one of those slips. A five-star general
requisitioned it for his official use. Unfortunately, he got caught with
his pants around his ankles while a strikingly beautiful blond First
Lieutenant performed certain—”
“Dad!”
“Sorry, TMI I suppose. Anyway, his replacement, who is a very by-
the-book type, wanted nothing to do with it, so it’s been gathering dust
in a hangar up in Langley for the last year. I thought it would be a gross
waste of taxpayer money not to put it to good use.”
“Sometimes dad, you still surprise the heck out of me.”
The director looked across the aisle thoughtfully at Bryce and Rick,
sitting next to each other deeply engrossed in conversation.
“Seems Bryce and the astrophysicist have become rather chummy.
Wouldn’t figure those two to have much in common.”
“They are kind of an odd couple,” Jessica agreed.
“By the way, why are you trying so hard to convince me he’s not
your boyfriend? From what I’ve seen, you two do make a nice couple. I
know he cares for you. Heck, from what I hear, the kid went to hell and
back because he thought you were in danger. I didn’t use to think much
of him, but I have to admit there’s more to him than meets the eye.”
Jessica looked momentarily taken aback.
“I suppose he’s kinda of cute, in a scruffy sort of way,” she said.
“I’m not an expert on that, but I wouldn’t mind him as a son-in-
law.”
“Dad! Stop. Not funny.”
“What? Is it so wrong for a father to want to see his daughter
happy? And you seem to be happiest when you’re around him.”
“Look, I’m not ready to get married, and even if I were—ugh just

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no. We’re friends. End of story.”

“Perhaps,” the director responded absentmindedly as he looked in
Bryce’s direction again. “What’s his story?”
“Huh?”
“He doesn’t work. He seems to be a perpetual student, parties a lot;
so, what’s his story?”
Jessica sighed, looking over at Bryce. “He doesn’t have to work for
one thing. His father is incredibly wealthy. He’s a geologist. When
Bryce was eight his father got a new job and they moved from Peru to
Chile. After working for the new mining company for a couple of years
his father took his life savings and became part owner of a struggling
gold mine. Instead of taking a full salary, part of his compensation was
company stock. Because the stock wasn’t worth much he soon acquired
enough shares to have a controlling interest in the company and bought
the company outright. Besides being a good geologist, he was also a
pretty good salesman and convinced a royalty company to invest a
substantial amount of money in the project. He was convinced that
exploration should be taking place further up the mountain.”
“I’m guessing his father became a very rich gold miner.”
“You’re half right. He did become a very rich miner. But not gold,
silver. Not only was his father a good geologist, he was a lucky
geologist. The new location was not only very rich in gold deposits, but
he had also inadvertently discovered one of the richest silver deposits
in history, at a time when silver prices were going parabolic. A
combination which made him incredibly wealthy.”
“How wealthy?”
“Well, at its peak, the mine was producing over 10,000,000 ounces
per year. At that time silver was selling for around $500 an ounce—do
the math.”
The director whistled softly. “Heck, if you don’t want to marry the
guy, I will.”
Jessica snorted. “Yeah, well, remember, money isn’t everything.
Bryce’s dad got so into his work, he neglected his family. His wife
finally got fed up after a few years and left him when Bryce was
eleven. She just got up and left and took his two sisters with her. Not
sure why she didn’t take Bryce with her too, but in any case, it was
quite the wakeup call for his dad. He started actually looking after

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Bryce while showing him how to work the stock market and mining
industry.”
“You’re saying Mr. Costa junior is a spoiled rich brat?”
“Not really. His father makes him earn his money. Every summer
he spends at least a couple of months working in the mines.”
“Inside the mines?” Bustos asked in surprise.
“Yep. Tough work, but Bryce seems to enjoy it. He’s actually
somewhat of an expert on mining and silver. He doesn’t think I know,
but he has an advanced degree in geology. Get him started and he’ll
talk about the stuff for hours. He recently used silver on a school
project and nearly blew himself up.”
“Didn’t know that silver was a combustible material.”
“It’s not. But that’s Bryce, being Bryce.” She pursed her lips. “As
for the other stuff, I think he’s kind of a lost boy. He stays in college
because he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. With his future
being pretty much set, he doesn’t try very hard. He takes about two
classes a semester. If nothing changes, he will be the epitome of the
perpetual student. It also gives him a steady supply of bimbos to satisfy
his male lust. I think his mother having abandoned him when he was a
kid left him with female rejection issues. I think he’s constantly trying
to fill that void from his childhood with his ladies du jour.”
“Or, he simply hasn’t found the right lady,” her father suggested.
She gave him a sideways don’t-go-there glance, but having just
verbalized for the first-time things she knew about Bryce, she simply
looked out the window wondering if she couldn’t have been a better
friend to him.

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The major returned from the rear of the plane with a soft drink in
his hand. He stopped next to Sarah who was sitting by herself.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked motioning to the seat directly in front
of her.
“No, but shouldn’t you be flying the plane, or something?”
“I stopped pretending to fly this thing about a half-hour ago. It was
fun being at the controls for the takeoff, until I realized that the stupid
onboard computers could probably fly circles around me, so why
bother. I guess pilots are just another endangered species.”
“Unless the sun decides to burp, then I for one will be only too
happy to have you and your skills on board,” Sarah declared.
“I guess you found out firsthand how vulnerable our technology
truly is.”
“Amen to that, brother,” she said raising her glass, which clearly
did not contain a soft drink. The major raised his own glass, clinking it
with hers.
“Don’t take this as a cheap pick-up line, but has anyone ever told
you what a beautiful smile you have?”
“They have,” Sarah said smoothly. “But a girl never tires of hearing
it, especially from a handsome flyboy.”
“You shouldn’t be flirting with me, Ms. Ruben. Your boyfriend
might become jealous.”
“You mean Rick? What makes you think he’s my boyfriend?”
“I can tell he cares for you.”
“Maybe. Don’t have much time for romance these days. Besides,
the dark side of the moon isn’t exactly dating central.”
Sarah sipped her drink and studied Lucas thoughtfully. “What about
you? A girl in every port?”
“Wrong military branch,” he said dryly. “But no, there’s no one in
my life. It wouldn’t be fair for me to be in a relationship. The military
is a harsh mistress.”
“There was someone once, wasn’t there?”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Very insightful. Yes, there was. A long

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time ago.”
“What happened?”
“Life. Sometimes life just gets in the way of the things we truly
want. She had her career, I had mine, and the trains were on different
tracks. Which is why if you have any feelings for this Wilkins guy, you
should latch onto him.”
“He is kinda cute. In a geeky, neurotic sort of way,” Sarah admitted.
“Relationships have started with less. Anyway, I guess I should go
check on the microchips flying this bucket.”
“Can I ask you a question, major?” Sarah asked quietly as he turned
to go.
“Of course.”
“Do you think we’re going to get out of this alive?”
He briefly thought about employing a few platitudes, but decided
she was too smart for that. Besides, he believed in honesty, and she
deserved that much.
“I’d say the odds are pretty slim. But one thing is for sure; whatever
happens I plan on going down fighting. And from what I’ve seen, I’m
pretty sure that goes for you too.”

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“You’re unusually quiet,” JW commented with eyes closed,

reclining in the seat across from David’s.
“I am contemplating what the end of life might be like,” David
stated.
JW opened his eyes slightly. “Pretty heavy subject. I was hoping
that if you wanted to talk it might be somewhat less somber. You know,
like—nice day, look at the beautiful clouds.”
“Yes, they are quite lovely. In many of your religions it is believed
that once you die your soul will inhabit the clouds with your creator.”
“Oh boy,” JW mumbled. “David, here I am above the clouds with
you, ostensibly my creator, so perhaps I have died and gone to heaven.”
“No, JW. I am certainly no deity.”
“I know,” JW said with exaggerated patience. “I was just joking.
Trying to lighten the mood. Why so somber anyway? I thought you
didn’t care about dying.”
“Just because one is prepared to die, does not mean one wants to. I
am fairly certain that is a common trait to all living beings.”
“Okay,” JW conceded, “I guess I should have let sleeping dogs lie.
But since it doesn’t appear this dog is going to sleep now, let’s have an
afterlife discussion. What do you think awaits us in the great beyond?”
“Perhaps some of your religions are correct. I believe that some
type of unification with our creator or creators will occur.”
“Look, David, this discussion is a little too esoteric for my feeble
little brain. What do you say we talk about your plans for after we get
out of this mess?”
David looked at him wistfully. He should not be burdening JW with
this discussion. Even by Earth standards, JW was a relatively young
man and he should have a long life ahead of him. With his improved
physiology, he could easily live several hundred more years. He should
not be bringing sorrow to his life.
“You should find a mate, be married and have many children,”
David said suddenly.
JW laughed. “Well, that’s certainly changing the subject.”

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“It occurred to me that we should be talking about happier things

than my impending doom.”
“Okay, first of all, there is nothing impending about your doom.
And second of all, I’m perfectly happy being single. Marriage and kids,
someday perhaps, but right now it’s the single life for me, thank you
very much.”
“What would make you happy?”
JW pondered the question for a few minutes. “To be perfectly
honest David, I’m not sure.”
“Then perhaps you should find out, and then spend your life in that
pursuit.”
The alien reclined his seat and closed his eyes as the aircraft began
its gradual descent toward Albay Gulf and the eastern coast of the
Philippine Islands.

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Mount Mayon, Albay, Luzon: Philippines

When JW stepped off the plane, he could see that they had set down
on a long strip of tarmac laid over blackened lava fields. All over the
island strange spikes jutted from the lava like tree branches.
“That’s not normal, is it?” Bryce mumbled next to him, coming
down the ramp with Mo in his arms.
JW glanced at him. “The tarmac? Why? I’m sure Nwarht has to
have a way to bring supplies in by plane.”
“No,” Bryce nodded. “That.”
At first JW didn’t get it. Then he realized the spikes weren’t spikes.
They were arms.
“How in the heck—?”
“The lahars,” Jessica said behind them. “Remember? That’s why
this was the perfect place for Nwarht to set up shop.”
“Lahars?” Bryce asked.
“I’ll explain later,” Jessica said absentmindedly. “Guess that’s the
mountain then.”
They both followed her gaze. Mount Mayon rose out of the earth, a
giant tumor against the relatively flat landscape of the island. The
brown slopes stood silent and foreboding as they had for hundreds of
years.
JW assumed the island had once been beautiful, but the lahars had
completely desolated every part of the landscape. Everywhere he
looked, all he could see was dull tones of black, gray and brown. Even
the sky was dull and gray as though the ash from the eruption years ago
hadn’t ever left the air.
“Rather unpleasant.” Sarah commented as she and Rick stepped off
the plane. “This landscape reminds me of Luna.”
“Let’s not mention Luna right now,” Rick said nervously. “I’d
rather not relive that experience, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Unfortunately, you may have to,” Lucas said drily as he followed
the director and David off the plane. “I have a feeling we don’t have

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long until Nwarht detonates his weapon.”

“Wonderful,” JW grumbled. “In that case, I hope we’re not walking
to the mountain. Cause it looks like we’re still at least a mile away.”
“I suppose we take those,” Bryce said. He pointed to three mag-lev
supply carts at the end of the tarmac.
“Oh good,” Sarah said sarcastically. “We get to take the amusement
park ride of doom.”
“You’re not seriously taking him with us, are you?”
Jessica had just sat down next to Bryce in the last supply cart when
she realized that Bryce was carrying Mo in his arms.
“I couldn’t just leave him behind. Besides, he seems to be an
integral part of our merry little band, remember? Who knows, maybe
this Nwarht guy is allergic to cats. One whiff of Mo, he goes into
anaphylactic shock, dies, and all our problems are solved.”
“Right,” Jessica said sarcastically. “Or maybe he’s one of those
Ninja cats that can take on a whole army by himself.”
“Turtles.”
“What?”
“They were Mutant Ninja Turtles, not cats.”
She looked at him with her mouth slightly open. “Are we from the
same planet?”
“What! I never heard of Ninja Cats but I’ve heard of Ninja Turtles.”
“Ninja Turtles is just plain stupid. The things are one of the slowest
creatures on Earth. Why would they make good ninjas? A ninja cat, on
the other hand, could disembowel you and clean itself before you
realized you were dead.”
Bryce opened his mouth to reply when the supply carts started
moving, slowly accelerating toward the mountain. A few minutes later
the carts slowed and lurched to a stop. Peering around Rick’s shoulder,
Jessica saw they had stopped at the base of the mountain. In front of
them was a solid wall of rock and dried lava.
“Now what?” she asked no one in particular.
Before anyone could reply, the rock face in front of them
shimmered, then vanished. In its place was a tunnel.
The supply carts stopped in a vast chamber filled with supply
crates, machines and a massive mover crane with a steel beam dangling
from it.

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“Looks like someone stopped in the middle of construction,” JW

commented as the group dismounted the carts.
“Yeah, but this doesn’t look like anything Nwarht would need,”
Jessica mused.
“Distraction for his workers?”
“Maybe.”
“Now where?” Rick wondered. “I don’t see an exit.” As if in
answer to his question, a portion of the wall at the far end of the
chamber shimmered and then vanished.
“I’m not even gonna bother asking again,” Rick sighed.
The tunnel led them to another chamber, this one smaller and bare
of anything other than a tall man standing next to a large dining table
set up with nine chairs and a veritable buffet of food.
“Welcome my friends,” Nwarht smiled, spreading his hands. “I’m
so glad you could join me. I have arranged a—last supper, if you will,
to celebrate our glorious exit from this dire existence.”

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“You!” the director said. “I should have known.”

“Of course you should have, my dear Richard. You should have
known a great many things. Or, perhaps you did, but chose to bury
those truths; like you buried many others.”
“Dad, you know this creep?” Jessica asked as she threw an
incredulous look at Nwarht.
The director’s eyes flashed. “Yes, I know him. His company was
contracted to dispose of some of the nuclear weapons.”
“Correction my friend; my companies were contracted to destroy
all the nuclear weapons. You see, I had direct control of all the
companies responsible for destruction of the weapons and the recycling
of the uranium and plutonium. Obviously, none of that ever happened.”
Nwarht clicked his tongue, then continued. “I really do have to
thank you Richard. You helped me more than anyone. If it wasn’t for
you and your ridiculous orders to have all nuclear weapons dismantled,
it could have taken me another century to complete this grand design. I
would then have had to wait another 350 years for the proper planetary
alignment.”
The director’s jaw tightened. “How exactly did you manage that,
and just how many of my men did you have to kill to accomplish that
feat?”
Nwarht laughed harshly. “You make it sound like it was so difficult
Richard, but it was the easiest part of my plan! You practically handed
me the weapons. And not just some of them mind you. All of them. We
even stood in the same room and discussed eradication techniques. And
thanks to your Major Lucas here, all the weapons arrived safely.”
Nwarht’s black eyes turned to regard him. “Major Lucas. It’s so
good to see you again.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to stare at Lucas.
“Major?” the director said, his voice steely. “Would you care to
enlighten us?”
Lucas scowled in confusion. “I— I don’t know what he’s talking
about. I’d never even met him until the other day at Holo Photonics.”

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“Oh, he’s quite right Richard. We had never officially met until
then.”
The director turned to Lucas. “Major? When did this—?” His voice
trailed off as a look of realization dawned on his face. “Your special
assignment—your missing file. Are you telling me that your secret
mission was for him?” he snarled, pointing a finger at Nwarht.
“I have no idea who that mission was for—I was never told!” Lucas
shot back. “My squadron was assigned to fly a large shipment of
classified weapons to an undisclosed location for demolition. With that
many weapons in one location, it was expected that the mission might
draw unwanted attention. So, all the pilots and crew had special skills.
But, before we could get to the location, my unit was ambushed. A
strange squadron of fighters attacked us off the coast of Australia. I had
never seen fighter jets like those before. They materialized out of
nowhere. We had 48 stealth F37’s escorting the cargo planes; the best
fighter planes of the time. We didn’t get off a single shot. Every single
fighter was shot down almost simultaneously. Not sure why I survived,
really. Dumb luck I guess. Still, I barely survived. The missile that hit
my jet completely vaporized it. The plane auto-ejected me, but the
debris cut me up pretty good and the blast knocked me out. I just
remember seeing a large craft fly over the cargo planes and swallow
them up. Figured it was a dream, until now. Anyway, a fishing boat
found me floating among the wreckage and pulled me out. I thought the
mission had been a dismal failure, but I was assured by my superiors
that another stealth team, flying phantom cover, had shot down the
attackers and the weapons had reached their destination safely.”
He glared at Nwarht. “Although, obviously, that’s not the case, is
it? There was no shadow cover squadron. It was your people who
ambushed my squad. And my commanders were working for you.”
Nwarht smiled. “Honestly Major, I’m not sure why I never killed
you. I don’t usually leave lose ends. Call it warrior honor.”
For a moment, Lucas looked as though he was going to forget the
plan and jump straight over the table and strangle Nwarht, but the
director stopped him.
“It’s not possible,” he said, his voice somewhere between a
statement and question. “All of our actions went through legitimate and

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official channels. There is no way you would have been able to

infiltrate our network.”
Nwarht eyes glittered. “Oh, but director, I’m all about legitimate
channels.” Reaching up to his neck, he touched his necklace.
Instantly, his form glowed, briefly covered with flickering green
polygons. When it faded, in his place was a middle-aged man with an
army uniform.
“Surprised?” Nwarht said, his voice now noticeably changed as
well. “You already knew all about my holographic technology, I can’t
believe you hadn’t figured this one out yet. How embarrassing for
you.” The next second he changed again, this time into an older man
with a long trench coat and bowler hat.
The director looked like he was going to be sick. “You—you were
Professor Jennings? And the REC coalition—”
“Whoa, hold it a minute,” Jessica interrupted. “Jennings?”
Nwarht changed back to his original form. “—was part of Holo
Photonics. And your dear, late, Professor Jennings was the one that
helped me design the plans for this place.”
He shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you director? It was a
simple matter of establishing a few dummy corporations and making
sure my companies were the ones you, and all the other idiotic
countries, would choose to dismantle the weapons. Once I gave
officers, like Major Lucas here, the coordinates to fly conveniently over
my storage facility, it really was no trouble at all. Again, you both have
my most sincere gratitude and I am so glad you are here so I can thank
you in person.”
His black eyes turned to regard Jessica. “And to think that this
beautiful creature is your daughter, director. I am so glad I did not kill
you, Miss Bustos. Seeing you again is a true delight.”
“The feeling is definitely not mutual,” Jessica shot back.
“What are you trying to do?” Bryce hissed under his breath. “Get us
all killed before we even eat?”
“Ah, Mr. Costa,” Nwarht’s voice turned cold. “You, I should have
killed. If there is one thing I detest most in this world, its
unsophisticated brats like you.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Bryce muttered.

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“Yes, it appears some jobs are too difficult for amateurs,” Nwarht
growled, throwing a glare over his shoulder.
A portion of the wall behind Nwarht disappeared, and Osaka
stepped out, her high heels making sharp clicking sounds as she walked
over to stand next to Nwarht. She threw a seductive smile at Bryce,
who had to resist the urge to scream and cover his mouth with his
hands.
“How…who—?” He stammered.
“Ah yes,” Nwarht said. “My dear Osaka here isn’t a real person,
per se. Which is to say, she was a real person at one time, a very skilled
operative for the old USSR. But this lovely creature standing here is a
cloned recreation, with a data wafer embedded in her cerebellum for
memory download. You see, Mr. Costa, when you eliminated the
previous iteration of Ms. Osaka, I simply activated another one and
then downloaded her memories to the chip. She was part of a grand
plan that I abandoned when the kind director provided me with a much
more elegant alternative. Unfortunately, every time she is recreated—
she becomes slightly less stable. Still, she has proven very useful to me
over the years.”
“I see,” was all Bryce could say.
Nwarht’s eyes turned toward Rick and Sarah. “I must admit—I
don’t recognize the two of you.”
“Oh, we’re nobodies,” Sarah replied snidely. “Just two dispensable
employees of yours that ended up stranded on the moon.”
“Oh, but of course, now I remember. Mr. Wilkins, your work was
invaluable to me. As was your technical support Ms. Ruben. A sincere
thank you.”
Sarah opened her mouth to make another remark but Nwarht had
turned his attention to David.
“And lastly, my dearest friend—what are you calling yourself these
days?” he asked with a humorless smile.
“I call myself David.”
“David?” Nwarht said incredulously. “You call yourself David?”
Abruptly, he started laughing. “Of course! The king of the Jews.
The ancestor of Jesus. The prophet of Islam.” He continued to laugh,
then suddenly stopped, all humor vanished from his face to be replaced

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by a look of pure hatred. “Why not Apollyon, Abaddon, Beelzebub, or

simply Satan? Would those not be more appropriate monikers for you?”
“You may call me any of those, if it makes you feel better,” David
replied softly.
“Make me feel better? The only thing that would make me feel
better is to plunge a knife into your stomach and watch your innards
spill on the floor.”
Everyone in the room, including Osaka, tensed. But just as
suddenly as he had erupted, Nwarht’s face softened and he addressed
the group calmly.
“Do you all know what this—this thing is responsible for?”
“I have informed them fully of what transpired.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have my dear—David,” Nwarht hissed the name
through clenched teeth. “But have you told them who they really are?”
“I am not sure I understand. I told them they are descendants of a
race that we genetically created.”
“Descendants of a—” Nwarht’s voice trailed off, and he gave David
an odd look. “You truly don’t know, do you?”
“Apparently not. To what exactly are you referring?”
“To the fact that they are my descendants David. Mine alone. So, if
you call yourself David, perhaps I should call myself Adam.”
“And you,” he continued, turning to the rest of the group, “are my
children.”
“Welcome home!”

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Inside Mount Mayon

“Well, that explains why the human race is so screwed up,” Bryce
said flatly.
“Mawr,” Mo purred, still happily snuggled in Bryce’s arms.
Apparently, the cat was the only one unperturbed by their dire
circumstances.
David looked at Nwarht with a baffled expression. “Are you saying
that you were the only survivor?”
“No David, I was not the only survivor. But I was the only one who
survived long enough to procreate. You see, your highly reliable ship
malfunctioned, upon entering Earth’s atmosphere, and ejected its
occupants in pods scattered throughout what is now Africa. Bad
enough, but you chose the middle of a nasty ice age to deposit us there.
In a place, by the way, that was already inhabited by a particularly
nasty species that did its best to exterminate us.”
“Neanderthals,” Jessica said, more to herself.
“Yes, Ms. Bustos, I know that now. At the time, they were simply
enemies to be defeated before they defeated us. Unfortunately, they
killed all the survivors but me and the woman who bore my children
and became my wife. Eventually they killed her as well, but they paid
for it. The price was their very existence.”
“Wait. You’re responsible for the extinction of the Neanderthals?”
Jessica asked in horror.
“I am.”
“One species isn’t enough for you? Now you have to destroy
humanity and David’s people too? For what? Revenge? You just said it
yourself; we are your children. Why are you so hell-bent on killing us?
To fulfill some—primal impulse?”
Nwarht tilted his head slightly as he looked at Jessica. “My dear,
please do not direct your anger at me. If anyone is to blame, it is your
friend David. This is how they created me—created us. The seeking of
revenge or redemption is part of who I am and who you are. It is how

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we were created.”
Jessica stomped her foot. “That’s a lie and you know it. That excuse
has been used by zealots throughout history to commit atrocities in the
name of God as a justification for their actions. ‘It’s fate, it’s God’s
will, it’s the way we were created.’ Bullshit! It doesn’t matter who
created us or how we were created. We have self-determination and we
are responsible for our actions; not David, not God, not the Great
Pumpkin. So, if you want to disavow your own actions by blaming
David, then by all means. But that makes you nothing but a hypocrite
and a coward. And it makes me feel dirty, that I, and all my friends
here, were spawned by a creature such as you.”
“Great speech, Jess,” Bryce muttered. “The Great Pumpkin?”
“Shut up,” she snapped, her attention focused on Nwarht.
Nwarht looked at Jessica thoughtfully. “Do you know why I did not
kill you when we ran into each other in the library?”
“Oh, enlighten me, please.”
“You show much promise. There is a certain—resemblance—to
someone I loved long ago.”
“I didn’t realize that snakes had the capacity for love.”
“Je-ssi-ca,” Bryce admonished through half-clenched teeth.
“That’s quite all right Mr. Costa. Ms. Bustos is helping me prove
my point. By her own admission, humans repulse her.”
“Not all humans, just you.”
“Really? Is that why you spend most of your time buried in books
in dark libraries? How long had it been since you had been in touch
with your own father? You even avoid that pathetic excuse for a
boyfriend.”
“Hey!” Bryce bristled.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Again, my dear, you are just helping me prove my point.”
While the discourse continued, JW maneuvered his way next to the
major. “Should we try to take them down now?” he whispered. “I can
easily get to Nwarht if you think you can take out that thing behind
him.”
“Not yet. Something tells me there is more going on here than
meets the eye. Besides, we still have no idea where the weapon is or
how to disarm it.”

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“I suppose. Just figured this was our best chance while the
blowhard is pontificating.”
“Maybe. But David seems to think he won’t be able to keep himself
from showing us the weapon, so—”
“We wait?”
“We wait. We listen. We observe. Right now, our best chance is to
exercise some patience.”
“To paraphrase a very funny cartoon I once read about two vultures
sitting on a tree; ‘patience my ass, I’m gonna kill something.”‘
“A fine sentiment. But not yet.”
Nwarht turned his attention their way. “Another unfamiliar face.
And exactly how are you associated with this distinguished group?”
“I guess you could say I crashed the party.”
“I see. Well, I hope Mr—?”
“JW.”
“I hope, JW, that you are not conspiring with the good major there
to attempt some type of coup.”
“Why? You don’t think we can take you?”
Nwarht snorted. “To be honest, I hadn’t given it much thought. You
see, as of approximately three hours ago your actions are
inconsequential. I have armed the weapon and it cannot be deactivated,
not even by me. In approximately 75 minutes, planet Earth will be no
more; and in a few years, my dear David, your planet will be
depopulated as well. Pity about Earth, however, I have become quite
fond of it.”
“So why destroy it?” JW asked pointedly.
“Actually, the Earth itself will be quite all right. There used to be a
comic in the late 20th century who used to make fun of certain peoples’
hubris toward planet Earth. He would mock those who wanted to save
the seals, save the whales, save the snails, save the planet. He would
then point out, in his very unique and colorful language, that the planet
was here billions of years before people and would be here billions of
years after—it did not need saving. So, my dear JW, as you can see,
Earth will be perfectly fine. Eventually life will return, as perhaps will
I, to see how it all turns out.”
“I thought you were going out in a blaze of glory,” JW countered.
“Who knows what the future might bring? But I’m being an

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atrocious host. Would you like to eat or would you prefer to see my
proudest creation? Not that it matters either way.”
“If you’re referring to your machine, we’d love to see it,” Lucas
said pointedly.
“Of course you would, Major Lucas. You’re still holding out some
hope that, somehow, you’ll be able to destroy it. Well then, off we go.”

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68 Minutes to Detonation

Bryce was worried.

That should have been a given. He wasn’t worried because he was
walking down a narrow corridor inside a volcano that no one had ever
definitively said was extinct, holding a genetically modified cat in his
arms, right behind a madman, followed by a psychotic reanimated
witch. Although, those were certainly reasons for concern.
Bryce was more nervous about his companions than anything else.
The director and the major were walking as far apart from each other as
possible. Their expression gave nothing away, but Bryce could tell both
were holding in barely contained rage.
David’s expression didn’t give anything away either, but he looked
stressed. His shoulders were tense and his eyebrows pinched.
Of everyone, Sarah and JW looked the best—though Rick looked
like he was going to pass out.
As for Jessica, she looked ready to kill something. She strode along
directly behind Nwarht, fists clenched. Bryce kept expecting her to
punch Nwarht in the back of the head.
Whether intentional or not, Nwarht had severely rattled everyone.
What little courage and cohesion the group had started with was rapidly
crumbling. Bryce should have realized it earlier, but he was beginning
to understand just how dangerously manipulative and calculating
Nwarht truly was. He had managed to pull everyone’s strings in just the
right way to make them angry and unfocused.
Except me. For some reason, Bryce felt a strange sense of resolve
inside. Nwarht and his fancy speeches weren’t about to frighten him,
nor was he going to let that witch, Osaka, scare him.
Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that in approximately one
hour they would all be dead if they couldn’t stop Nwarht’s weapon.
Thinking about it from a logical standpoint, Bryce doubted that
Nwarht’s statement, about there being no way to deactivate the
weapon, was true. Even if Nwarht didn’t think so, Bryce was convinced

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there was some way to stop the weapon from detonating. Was his belief
driven by some instinct inspired by his trans-dimensional dreams or
was he simply wishful thinking?
If there was one thing he was sure of though, it was going to be up
to him to snap everyone else out of Nwarht’s spell.
For all their sakes.

:
Nwarht stopped them in front of two massive double doors and
leaned forward to scan his eye on a retinal recognition panel mounted
on the wall.
“I hope it gives you radiation poisoning,” Jessica growled.
Nwarht raised his eyebrows as the doors slid open. “Surely
someone as brilliant as yourself should know a retinal scan cannot
cause such harm Miss Bustos.”
“One can hope,” Jessica muttered as she followed Nwarht into the
chamber beyond the doors.
The others hesitated in the doorway expecting some sort of trap, but
Jessica was so mad she didn’t care. If Nwarht wanted to kill them, she
doubted he would have to stoop to something as elementary as leading
them into an ambush.
An ambush wasn’t what she should have been worried about.
The chamber Nwarht led them into was so massive, it took Jessica a
moment to process that she was still underground. The dull grey
concrete reinforcing the inside of the chamber sloped upward to a
massive hole some 5,000 feet above them. Conduits crisscrossed the
chamber, like spider webs, above four huge tubes that intersected the
cave like a giant X. A sprinkler system, Jessica decided. Nwarht would
be stupid not to have one in place. A few hundred feet up, a small room
with a platform jutted out from the side of the wall.
And arrayed in front of them, suspended in midair, looking for all
the world like a flying army of terra-cotta soldiers, were rows upon
rows of warheads.
Right up until that point, whenever they had mentioned Nwarht’s
weapon Jessica had gotten a ridiculous image in her mind of a giant

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cannon or death ray one might see in a sci-fi movie. Standing next to
the nukes, it was quickly sinking in exactly what was at stake. It felt as
though she was staring into the mouth of hell.
Jessica could tell everyone else was feeling it too. Rick made a
noise like a mouse getting stepped on. Bryce swore under his breath.
David’s face grew even more uneasy.
Only the director gave no visible reaction. Jessica looked sideways
at her father, noting his stony expression as he stared at the arsenal laid
out before him. She could only hope he would be able to hold it
together.
“Impressed?” Nwarht asked, turning to face them. “I must admit it
was quite an undertaking getting this whole thing set up. Quite a few
trial tests elsewhere. Several fatal accidents. A regrettably large number
of workers killed, accidentally and—otherwise. Fortunately, as you can
see, everything is now set up and ready to go. In approximately, ah,
well actually, in exactly one hour, Earth will be in proper astronomical
alignment, and my companies’ satellites will all have moved into orbit
above the Philippines. They are special satellites, of course, designed to
modulate and amplify the EMP pulse into a focused beam which—well
I’m sure David’s told you the rest.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Jessica saw Sarah take a furtive step
toward the weapon closest to her, obviously trying to get a closer look
at it. Jessica wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but for Sarah to find
a way to deactivate the weapons, they had to stay in this room as long
as possible.
Nwarht opened his mouth to say something but Jessica jumped in.
“So, that’s how you plan to direct the EMP pulse?” Jessica said
quickly. “With satellites?”
Nwarht raised his eyebrows. “Yes, Ms. Bustos. One of my
companies constructed special satellites with carbon nanotubes on their
panels to magnify and direct the pulse into space. Surely that should be
obvious?”
Jessica could tell he was trying to goad her, but she refused to let
her temper get out of control. “Aren’t you afraid the beam will lose
cohesion before it reaches David’s planet?”
Nwarht’s eyes narrowed. “You seem quite interested in this Ms.
Bustos.”

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“Oh, I’m interested,” Jessica replied, her heart racing

uncomfortably. “Interested to see if you really have planned for all
contingencies like you claim. For example, a solar flare would more
than likely disrupt the cohesion of your death ray. Then bam, it misses
by hundreds of light years.”
“Death ray?”
“Also, did you actually map out the path your weapon is going to
travel along, or did you just aim in the general direction of your target
and just hope you hit something? Of all the companies you have, I
failed to notice any even remotely related to astronomy or cosmology.
Did you know that there are at least twelve black holes in the Milky
Way? Despite that being such a small number, it’s likely that the
gravitational distortion caused by one or more of them will completely
disrupt your energy beam. And that’s not all; quasars, radioactive
meteorites—”
“Radioactive meteorites?”
“—nebulas, rogue planets, solar flares—did I mention those
already? And a million other things out there make it a very unhealthy
place for a lone EMP to be gallivanting around. You probably would
have done better if you packed some nuclear weapons on a spaceship
and sent them on their way. Honestly, did you even think this one
through? Or did you get so caught up with your new toys that you
didn’t stop to consider if this will actually work?”
Nwarht opened and closed his mouth like he was trying to breathe.
Jessica held her breath. If she could just keep him off balance for a
minute longer…
Abruptly Nwarht laughed. It was so loud that Jessica involuntarily
jumped.
“Truly Ms. Bustos,” Nwarht said after a moment, his tone icy. “You
know how to talk. But your words fall on deaf ears. I know for a fact
my weapon will succeed and nothing you do or say will change that.”
Jessica stepped forward to make a retort, but Nwarht cut her off.
“And now that you have seen my work, let us all go back and enjoy
our last meal on this Earth. Honestly, I would hate to die with an empty
stomach.”
“How I don’t doubt that,” Jessica muttered.

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“Please sit,” Nwarht said.

No one sat.
They were back in the meeting chamber—the dining table still
overflowing with food. Nwarht had evidently also summoned servers,
as two butlers were now standing at either end of the table. Something
about them bothered Bryce, but he wasn’t sure what.
He also couldn’t help but notice that Nwarht was back in his
college boy ensemble and smiling faintly for some reason, as though
the prospect of impending death was a highly enjoyable and he wanted
to go out looking as good as possible.
“Really,” Nwarht said, his tone polite, but steely at the same time.
“I insist.”
Slowly, everyone started taking seats around the table, as though in
a daze. Bryce was about to take a seat, but Nwarht held up a hand.
“Not for you Mr. Costa. You see, while your friends will die when
my creation detonates, you deserve a much more entertaining death.
Back in the day, dinner theater was quite popular. And I think your
death should be quite enjoyable to watch.”
As if on cue, Osaka started striding toward Bryce, an evil smile on
her face and a stiletto suddenly in her hand. Bryce took a step
backward, his mind racing. He heard Jessica shout something and out
of the corner of his eye, saw her running toward Osaka, only to run into
something invisible. Bryce realized that Nwarht had cut him off from
the others, so Osaka could kill him without their intervention.
Despite his impending demise, Bryce almost smiled. Nwarht had
just made a mistake.
Osaka was almost on top of him when Bryce felt Mo stir in his
arms. With a horrific screech, the cat leapt from his arms and landed
smack in the middle of Osaka’s face, digging its claws in for good
measure.
Osaka screamed and stumbled, trying to pull the cat off, but Mo’s
claws were dug in ferociously tight.
Bryce charged forward and tackled her, the three of them falling to

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the floor in a heap. Bryce tried to grab the stiletto from her, but
somehow Osaka managed to slash it across his face. The pain almost
caused him to black out.
With an inhuman roar, Osaka kicked Bryce away and yanked Mo
from her face, taking a considerable amount of skin, hair, and part of
her left eye with it. Still screaming, she flung Mo into the wall with a
horrible crunch.
She stood and turned toward Bryce, a terrible expression on her
ruined face. “So,” she hissed. “It was him.”
Bryce looked past her to see Jessica standing on the other side of
the barrier, a horrified look on her face.
“It’s okay Jess,” he called. “You guys got this. Don’t worry about
me. I’ll take care of this bitch.”
Then he turned and ran for his life with Osaka right behind him,
Jessica’s scream following them both down the tunnel.

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Jessica spun around to face Nwarht, her face furious. “What do you
think you’re doing, you maniac?” she shouted. “There was no reason
for you to do that to Bryce!”
“I beg to differ Ms. Bustos,” Nwarht said calmly. “Mr. Costa was a
minor issue that needed solving. And honestly, someone as
sophisticated as you should be able to have better friends.”
“My choices are no concern of yours, you disgusting creature,”
Jessica snarled. Before anyone could stop her, she charged toward
Nwarht.
She never got there. Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her arm and
one of the butlers hurled her bodily to the ground.
From there, everything went straight to hell.
“Get your hands off my daughter,” the director bellowed, tackling
the butler. At the same time, Lucas grabbed a champagne bottle from
the table and struck the other butler across the face with a sickening
thud. The man hit the ground and lay still.
Jessica started to push herself up. Out of the corner of her eye, she
saw a portion of the wall dissolve and two more ‘butlers’ emerge, both
armed with guns. But before they could open fire, Sarah grabbed a
roast turkey from the table and hurled it at them. One of the attackers
went down as the twenty-pound bird connected with his head. In a flash
JW was on top of the remaining henchman. He grabbed the wrist
wielding the weapon, giving it a hard twist. He felt and heard a
satisfying crunch as he broke the other’s wrist, only to have the brute
punch him in the side of the head with his free hand. JW went down
hard. The man aimed his weapon at JW and fired. The gun blew a huge
hole in the floor into the spot JW had occupied, a split second before
back-flipping himself clear of the line of fire onto the table. The man
had just enough time to register a look of disbelief, before Lucas
grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck.
From behind her, Jessica heard her dad grunt in pain. She spun

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around to see him still grappling with another of the henchmen. She
grabbed a carving knife from the table and plunged it into his back. The
man roared with pain and anger as he spun to face Jessica, only to
suddenly find Jessica’s foot planted in his groin.
As he stumbled backward groaning from the pain caused by this
latest assault, the director grabbed the nearest chair and hit him over the
head. The thug hit the floor and lay still.
“Dad,” Jessica breathed, grabbing his good arm to steady him. “Are
you okay?”
“Yes, Jessica, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jessica almost smiled when a sudden voice stopped her.
“You think you have won I suppose. How very sad.”
Everyone turned toward the voice. Jessica felt her blood turn to ice.
In all the commotion, Nwarht had managed to grab David.
And had a knife pressed to his neck.

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Bryce thought his heart was going to burst by the time he made it
back into the chamber where they had entered the mountain. The crates
still towered above him, and farther up still, the crane stood silent and
ominous, like a giant mantis watching the unfolding events uncaringly.
Bryce’s face hurt from where the knife had cut him and he could
barely breathe. But he knew if he stopped to catch his breath, he’d
probably be minus his head in a matter of seconds.
From behind him, he heard the sharp click of Osaka’s heels on the
stone floor and dove behind one of the boxes.
“So, my dear Bryce,” her voice rang out through the chamber.
“Here we are again. It’s quite fitting don’t you think?”
Bryce peeked around the corner of his hiding place. Osaka was
stalking around the room, twirling her stiletto in one hand. From where
she was, she couldn’t see him, but another few seconds and he’d be in
plain view.
Bryce’s first impulse was to keep scuttling from one pile of crates
to another, but he knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything. He had to get
rid of her once and for all.
Nwarht had said that each time Osaka died, he could just create a
new version of her, albeit a less stable one. Hopefully, if she died again,
and then Nwarht was taken care of, there wouldn’t be anyone left who
could pop out another copy. Not since the Ford Pinto had a make and
model been in such dire need of retirement.
An uneasy thought crossed Bryce’s mind. If he remembered right,
Nwarht had said something about Osaka being some kind of test run for
an experiment. What had that been about?
Whatever the case, Bryce couldn’t worry about that now. Osaka
was almost around the crates.
Bryce realized that he would more than likely die here. But if that
was the case, he wasn’t about to let this misbegotten Xerox copy get in
the way of Jessica and the others stopping Nwarht’s plan.
Just as Osaka rounded the crates, Bryce shoved them over on top of

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her.
Unfortunately, the crates were empty and didn’t have much weight
behind them. It didn’t take her long to push the crates off and renew her
chase. By then, however, Bryce was already scrambling for the next
group.
“Keep running,” Osaka’s voice said as she followed him. “Your
death will be much more fun this way.”
Desperately, he knocked some more crates into her path. Out of the
corner of his eye Bryce saw them hit the ground and shatter, and he
could have sworn he saw what looked like human organs spill out onto
the ground.
At the far end of the chamber, Bryce saw a small rectangle of light
coming from the wall, and he realized there was another room there.
Not even daring to look over his shoulder, he ran toward the light.
Shoving the door open, Bryce found himself in a completely
different place. The walls were lined with blinking red lights and the
floor was solid steel. Bryce realized it was an airplane hangar.
In the middle of the room sat two large crafts—one that Bryce
recognized as some sort of modified Gulfstream and another that
looked like a golf ball that had been cut in half. The Gulfstream was
sealed shut, but the other ship had a ramp leading up inside. Knowing
Osaka was seconds behind him, Bryce made a run for the golf-ball
ship.
Once inside, Bryce felt his hairs stand on end. The entire ship
smelled sterile, like a hospital. A low frequency hum reverberated
through the walls, giving him goose bumps as well.
Bryce hoped there would be weapon he could use against Osaka in
here, but he didn’t know if he had enough time to look. He yanked
open the door to a room and stumbled inside.
For a few seconds, Bryce stood frozen in the doorway, his jaw slack
with horror.
The room was dark except for a single red light toward the back,
casting an eerie glow and illuminating the various human appendages
laid out on two tables on either side of the room. In the middle of the
floor rose a glass tank, filled with a dark liquid. Floating inside was a
body.
An exact replica of Nwarht.

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The room had gone completely quiet. The only thing Jessica could
hear was her pulse beating in her temples.
“Did you honestly think this could end any other way?” Nwarht’s
icy voice said into the silence. “I’ve planned for this moment for five
centuries. Once my memories returned to me, I knew the path I had to
take. Absolutely nothing can stop me. Not David, and certainly not
you.”
Nobody moved. Jessica couldn’t tell if it was from fear or shock or
horror. Just as she couldn’t tell what she was feeling as she stepped
forward. “Is this really how it ends?” she said, amazed her voice wasn’t
shaking. “This is where your story finishes?”
Nwarht’s black eyes bored into hers. “It’s too late Ms. Bustos. This
story has already reached its conclusion. It is best that you resign
yourself to that fact now.”
“How can I, when it’s such a pathetic anecdote?”
Nwarht’s knuckles whitened as he increased his grip on the dagger,
pressing it tighter against David’s throat. “What?”
“All this time, the only thing you’ve thought about was getting the
retribution you thought you deserved. But where does that end? Your
entire life you’ve felt cheated, bitter, and angry. For thirty thousand
years you’ve allowed hate to consume you. Know what I call that? A
waste. Think of everything you could have accomplished. You could
have done greater things than anyone could even imagine. Look at what
you’ve accomplished on your own. You could have helped humanity
attain a greater sense of who and what they are; made this world better.
Helped people. But you wasted that chance, because the only thing you
have ever done was look backwards, not forward. So tell me, was it
worth it?”
Even as she said it, Jessica felt something fill the air. And as she
looked directly into David’s eyes, and found nothing but peace there,
she thought she heard a voice whisper in her ear.

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Perhaps it was.
“NO!” she screamed, but it was almost like there was no sound.
David thrust his head forward as hard as he could, driving Nwarht’s
knife deep into his throat. He then quickly pulled his head back,
leaving the gash exposed, spraying arterial blood directly onto
Nwarht’s face. Nwarht tried pulling away from David, instinctively
sensing danger, but David held on tight to his arms. They stumbled
backwards in a macabre dance before falling, with David sprawled on
top of Nwarht.
Nwarht opened his mouth and tried to speak, but the toxins from
David’s blood were already paralyzing his body and his throat was
starting to close. The knife fell out of his hands and terror swept
through him, not fear from impending death, but from the realization
that his plan might be thwarted by a group of…nobodies. He lay back
down, gasping for air.
Through the sudden haze in her vision, Jessica saw JW rush to
David’s side. She tried to move but her feet felt like lead. All she could
do was watch.
JW frantically tore off part of his shirt and wrapped it around the
wound on David’s neck. David attempted to say something, but JW
couldn’t quite make it out. He gently lifted David’s head to hear what
he was trying to say.
“Thank you for being my friend,” David whispered in his ear. “By
this touch, you are now part of the Scaeva. Goodbye JW.” He closed
his eyes as a gentle sigh escaped his lips.
JW looked into David’s peaceful face. As tears started welling up in
his eyes, he carefully laid David’s head back down on the floor. He
closed David’s eyes, and gently placed the shirt over his face.

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Bryce realized he had only seconds to form a plan.

He could hear Osaka’s high heels on the ramp outside. She would
be in the room within seconds. But the only things vaguely resembling
weapons were the various limbs scattered on the tables. He wasn’t
feeling so audacious as to engage Osaka in a knife-against-severed-leg
fight.
Desperately he searched the tables, finally finding a lead pipe
underneath one of them.
Then the door opened and he realized time was up.
“Time for you to die my dear Bryce,” Osaka cackled.
Bryce looked her straight in the eye, knowing this would probably
be the last thing he did. And he had to make it count.
With a yell, he raised the pipe and charged.
Osaka smiled and raised her stiletto to strike. But at the last
moment, Bryce jumped to the side. Her smile turned to a look of
surprise as she missed—and Bryce hit her on the back as hard as he
could.
Osaka slammed face-first into the tank. She turned around, only to
have Bryce charge and hit her again. Her head snapped back with a
sickening crack. Bryce swung again but this time Osaka dodged and
slashed his arm just as the pipe smashed into the glass tank. Bryce
heard himself scream and saw Osaka’s evil smile. A smile that suddenly
disappeared as the tank exploded, sending the body inside slamming
into Osaka like it wanted a hug.
Bryce fell to his knees, woozy with pain. Dimly, he was aware the
liquid touching him seemed to be burning his skin like acid. He quickly
dragged himself away, grabbing some gauze off a table as he stumbled
away from the liquid.
Osaka was lying in the doorway of the room, not moving. The body
that had fallen out of the broken tank lay next to her, facedown.
Cautiously, Bryce made his way over to Osaka and looked down at

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her. She seemed to still be alive, but to his horror it looked like her
body was dissolving, as though the liquid really had been acid. Her
features were ruined; now just a hideous, misshapen face, some
monstrosity straight out of the worst horror movies Bryce had ever
seen.
Osaka smiled grotesquely, and spoke in a strange rasping voice.
“Beware messiah, for your victory will be short lived.” As Bryce
watched, her body continued to dissolve, until all that was left of Osaka
was a blood-stained stiletto and a pair of red high heels.
Although he should have felt elated by his victory, Bryce felt
nothing but sorrow, realizing that this poor soulless creature had not
asked for any of this. She was simply a pawn, endlessly recycled to
take part in some game Bryce was only now beginning to comprehend.

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Jessica realized there was blood in her eyes, but she hardly noticed.
She and the others stood in loose semi-circle, staring down at David’s
body.
“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” Sarah spoke into the silence. “But
should we be this close to him? Plus, we still have a really big problem.
Without Nwarht to open the doors, how are we going to get back into
the chamber to disarm those bombs?”
Still kneeling next to David, JW stirred, his eyes red from tears.
“We’re immune. David made sure of that.”
Before anyone could react, he reached down and grabbed Nwarht’s
body by the belt, picking him up as though he were a giant duffle bag.
“Let’s go,” he commanded.
Everyone tried to keep up with him as he raced down the long
corridor leading to the cave’s entrance. When they reached the giant
doors, he pulled Nwarht’s head back and jammed his head against the
optical scanner. As the massive doors swung open to reveal the same
frightening scene they had seen earlier, JW briefly lifted Nwarht over
his head, as though contemplating throwing him over the side, before
unceremoniously dumping the body on the floor.
“I thought these new scanners only worked if the person was still
alive,” Jessica murmured distantly, as she followed the others into the
chamber.
“Ms. Ruben,” the director said. “I saw you inspecting this array of
death while my verbose daughter had Nwarht distracted. Is there any
way to disarm this thing?”
Sarah grabbed a guardrail and leaned out to peer at the weapons
hanging magically in midair. “I don’t know, so many variables. As near
as I can tell, they’re not physically linked. I don’t see any wiring
between them. They could be linked wirelessly through some type of
Wi-Fi, but I doubt he would risk that, given how many things can
disrupt wireless signals. Since the success of the weapon is predicated

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on perfectly timed detonations, I am making the assumptions that they

are all set to activate synchronically, timed by an internal atomic clock.
That would be the only type of device accurate enough to assure
synchronous detonation. Actually, I’m betting on it. See how they’re
floating? Nwarht must have set up some type of resistance field or
something to keep them up like that. So, I’m almost one hundred
percent sure there’s no wireless signal. But then, if it is an atomic
clock, given the wide variety available, we can’t even be sure what type
of clock Nwarht might have used in these devices. A rubidium clock
would be my guess due to its reliability and small size, but given
Nwarht’s resources, I wouldn’t rule out a quantum clock, or—”
“That’s fascinating, Sarah. Can you disarm the stupid thing?”
“Director, I’m not a bomb expert. I’m a systems engineer. Heck,
you and Rick know more about the physics of these things than I do.”
Rick, who had been staring intently at the array and doing some
quick calculations in his head, turned toward Sarah at the mention of
his name.
“You’re right. But right now, we need your engineer’s mind to work
us through the logic of this. So, keep going, because something you
said triggered an idea, but I can’t quite get hold of it yet.”
“Okay,” she said looking at him sideways. “Nwarht said that the
array couldn’t be deactivated, not even by him. I have to assume,
therefore, that tampering with any one of the devices would simply
cause that one device to go inert, to protect from an inadvertent
detonation that would destroy the remaining weapons. I’m guessing we
could try deactivating them one by one. Unfortunately, I don’t think we
would even be able to get through more than a dozen or so before this
whole thing blows. So, accidentally triggering—”
“That’s it!” Rick yelled suddenly, making everyone jump.
“Thanks Rick,” Jessica said sarcastically. “We all really needed that
extra jolt of adrenalin.”
“Sorry, but I just figured out what those tubes bisecting the cave
are!”
“Part of a fire suppression system?”
“Maybe. That might be their secondary purpose. I think primarily
they are a cooling system. I’m fairly certain there is liquid nitrogen
running through those tubes and it’s periodically released to keep the

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temperature constant.”
Lucas frowned up at the pipes. “And is that important?”
“If Sarah is right and the success of this weapon depends on
synchronous detonation, the clocks inside these things have to function
perfectly. But, even though Nwarht seems to have spared no expense
reinforcing the inside of this caldera, it’s still a caldera.”
“Meaning—?”
“Meaning, that there is still a great deal of heat radiating from
inside the volcano, not to mention the greenhouse effect caused by the
graphene enclosure he installed at the top of the volcano to keep out the
elements. Both of those would cause a substantial amount of thermal
differentiation.”
The director frowned. “Forgive me, I don’t believe I follow.”
“Well, basically warm air rises, as it does it cools, then sinks and so
forth. This would cause some significant temperature variations in the
weapons closer to the top of the caldera versus the ones closer to the
bottom.”
“You’re right!” Sarah exclaimed. “The temperature differential
might be enough to throw off the timing of the detonation.”
JW scratched his head. “Now I don’t get it.”
“No time to explain,” Sarah answered excitedly. “It’s just the nature
of atomic clocks. They only work perfectly in a very narrow
temperature range.”
“How does this help us?”
And then suddenly it clicked in Jessica’s head. “Simple. We figure
out a way to cool the nukes while keeping one of them warmer, it goes
boom before the others, and vaporizes them before they detonate.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Will that even work?”
“Theoretically,” the director responded without much enthusiasm.
“All right then, let’s get to it,” Lucas said with a slight frown.
“Unless you have some sort of objection sir?”
“Even if it works, it still means that a nuclear weapon is going to
detonate and destroy thousands of other nuclear weapons full of
radioactive material, which will scatter throughout thousands of miles.
It will be the mother of all dirty bombs. Hundreds of thousands, if not
millions of people, are still going to die.”
“What choice do we have?” Sarah asked a little defensively.

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“All right, all right,” Lucas said. “We don’t have much time and I
suspect we have a lot to accomplish. Rick, Sarah, how do we do this?”
Sarah gestured toward the weapons. “First, we need to insulate one
of the nukes. Second, we release as much of the liquid nitrogen as we
can. Third, we run like bats-out-of-hell.”
Rick looked around. “Jessica is that a down vest you’re wearing?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Really?” JW asked. “Who wears a down vest in the tropics?”
“I get cold easy, all right?”
“It’ll be perfect for the nuke. We’ll use it as a first layer, and then
we’ll wrap it with whatever else we can find around here that will give
it further insulation. We can use belts to wrap everything nice and snug
around it. Heck, we’ll get naked if we have to.”
“Yeah, well, let’s not,” JW muttered.
Lucas was already taking off his military fatigues. “This isn’t the
time for modesty people. Come on, whatever extra clothes you have,
get them off now.”
“Guys its fine,” Rick said quickly. “Lucas’ military stuff, Jessica’s
jacket—director I’m going to need your coat. Let me see—given the
surface area and temperature—this’ll work, I think. Oh, Sarah, I need
you to take your shirt off please.”
Sarah gave a slight snort of amusement at Rick’s obviously
oblivious statement, but started unbuttoning her shirt anyway.
Jessica was handing Rick her jacket when a sudden thought struck
her like lightning. “Oh my god! Bryce! I can’t believe we forgot about
Bryce!” She started to run back toward the exit but the director stopped
her.
“Jess, wait a minute. We need you here to help stop this thing. Go
with Sarah to that control room and find a way to release the nitrogen.
The major and I will backtrack to make sure Nwarht doesn’t have some
more cronies lurking around in here. We’ll find Bryce.”
Jessica heard the unspoken words in that statement. So you won’t
have to.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Come on Sarah, let’s go.” Turning on her
heel she stalked off down the walkway.
“JW, help Rick insulate one of these nukes. We’ll secure an escape
route and be back as soon as we can. Good luck everyone.”

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Together, the director and Lucas headed out of the chamber. Sarah
threw Rick an inscrutable look, then headed at a brisk jog after Jessica,
leaving Rick and JW alone.
“So,” JW said humorlessly, picking up the pile of clothes. “How
exactly does one dress a nuke?”

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“Well this isn’t good.”

Sarah and Jessica were standing in front of an elevator that looked
as though it might lead up to the command room. The only problem
was there was a passcode lock on the button.
“Seriously? Why, just—why?” Sarah growled. “It just has to be
complicated, doesn’t it?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jessica asked absently, examining the lock.
“Well, at least it’s not a retinal scanner. Can’t you like, I don’t know,
hotwire it or something?”
Sarah eyed the lock uncertainly. “Looks like I’ll have to try, but
without the right tools I seriously doubt it’ll work. We have to find
another way.”
“We don’t have time,” Jessica insisted.
“Well unless you have some great idea—”
“Wait!” Jessica exclaimed. “I do have a great idea!” Reaching into
her pocket she pulled out her MiPhone.
Sarah frowned. “What are you gonna do, call a locksmith?”
“No. Observe.” Pulling up her Virtual Simulator Expander app,
Jessica pointed it at the lock and scanned it. She flicked her hand across
the screen, causing a 3-D projection of the lock to burst into the air.
“Now look,” Jessica said, pointing to the very enlarged image. “See
those scratches on some of the buttons? Look how some are more
worn. Those are the ones that must have been pressed the most.”
Sarah looked at the image skeptically. “Looks like the numbers 3, 5,
7, and 8. So what? The combination could literally be anything.”
Jessica nodded. “Yes, but look. The five is more worn than the
others. So, it’s….” Jessica’s voice trailed off as a smile crossed her
face. Reaching over, she punched in: 5-3-5-8-7.
With a DING the elevator doors hissed open.
Sarah stared at her. “How the hell did you get that?”
Jessica smiled as she slipped her phone back in her pocket. “A lady

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has to have her secrets. I just have a weird ability to see number
patterns. I’ll explain later. Come on, there’s some liquid nitrogen that
needs releasing.”

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“Did you hear something?” Lucas asked.

The director frowned. Other than the low-resonance hum of
generators, the room was eerily silent. “I don’t think so.”
They had explored various tunnels and chambers. It had quickly
become clear that Nwarht did not have any additional guards. David
had evidently been correct in that assessment. They eventually found
themselves back in the dining chamber and were looking around for
any items that might prove useful.
The invisible barrier that had been separating the room had
vanished, but there was no trace of Bryce, or the woman Osaka who
had been chasing him. The director could only hope he was still alive,
for Jessica’s sake, but deep down, he feared the worst.
They carefully avoided looking in the direction of David’s body.
The director wondered briefly about the appropriate funeral protocol
for his species.
The major looked visibly anxious. To the director’s surprise, he
reached into his boot and pulled out Nwarht’s knife. “You took that?”
Lucas nodded distractedly. “Never know when a good blade might
come in handy. They have a myriad of uses, and besides, Nwarht isn’t
going to be using it anytime soon.”
“Well if you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick with these,” the director
said, tapping the plasma gun at his side.
Lucas smiled faintly. Suddenly he tensed. “There it is again.”
“I still don’t hear anything. What are you talking about major?”
“I don’t know, it sounded like a door sliding open, or shut.”
“A door? There were several open doors leading to other chambers,
maybe they close at some predetermined time every day.”
“Maybe.” Lucas frowned. “I don’t like it though. Let’s head back.”
The pair walked back down the tunnel toward the cavern. They had
almost reached the entrance when Lucas suddenly stopped. “That’s not
good.”

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The director followed his line of sight and realized what the major
was talking about.
The double doors they had come through were closed.
A cold feeling settled in the director’s stomach. “No. That’s not
good at all.” Lucas put his eye up to the retinal scanner. Nothing
happened. “Well, at least now I know I wasn’t hearing things. Someone
did close this door. And as far as I know, the only person who can open
it is on the other side of it, quite dead.”
“Unless he’s not,” Bustos said uneasily.
“You don’t think David’s toxin worked?”
“Who knows? After all, the guy has lived for some 30,000 years.
Regardless, we have to figure out a way to get in there. Because if he is
dead and the doors just closed on their own, Jessica and the others are
trapped in there. And if he’s not dead—”
“Then they are in serious trouble,” Lucas finished.

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Bryce burst out of a tunnel and almost ran right off the walkway.
After exiting the ship, he’d tried to go back the way he’d come,
only to find the tunnel he’d first come through gone. After searching
the entrance chamber, he’d found another tunnel. Unsure of how things
were going with the others, he’d run as fast as he could to try and find
them.
The passage had spit him out back in the weapons chamber, a few
yards away from the massive blast doors they’d come through the first
time.
Frantically Bryce looked around, but none of the others were
anywhere to be seen. Could Nwarht have killed them all already?
But there was no way, he decided. It wasn’t possible. They were all
alive. Somehow, they all had to be alive.
Even as that thought crossed his mind, Bryce suddenly felt a
presence. As he began to turn something struck him in the back of the
head, hard. He slammed into the guardrail and fell to the ground, his
vision turning red.
Someone grabbed him from behind and lifted him into the air. And
then he was falling toward the ground, thousands of feet below.

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“For the love of—no that’s not right either.”

“Look Rick,” JW said impatiently. “I understand this is important,
but now really isn’t the time to be a perfectionist. We’re not prepping
the thing for a GQ photo shoot.”
The two of them were standing on a maintenance platform a few
yards under the main walkway. It had taken Rick a few minutes poking
at the controls to figure out how to bring one of the warheads close
enough to strap the clothes on. But now that they could, Rick seemed
more than a little uncertain about what he was doing.
“It’s not enough,” Rick muttered, not giving any sign he’d heard
JW, as he pulled some of the clothes off the nuke. “With the surface
area—I must have miscalculated…no I couldn’t have—”
“Rick!”
“Huh? What?”
“Rick, what are you doing? It’s fine, we should be getting out of
here!”
“But it’s not! I don’t think it’ll be enough insulation.” Rick turned
to JW. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”
“Excuse me?”
“We need more insulation!” Rick insisted, already pulling off his
own shirt. “What’s the problem—do you have a no-nudity clause in
your contract? No? Then hurry up!”
“I’m just going to say up front; I’m very uncomfortable with this.”
“You’re going to be a whole lot more uncomfortable when these
nukes blow! Come on dude…no leave the tighty-whities on man, we
aren’t that desperate!”
JW rolled his eyes. “Well, next time clarify what ‘the rest of your
clothes’ means then, please and thank you.”
Rick grabbed the clothes from him and was in the process of tearing
them to wrap around the nuke when a loud CLANK echoed hollowly
throughout the chamber.

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Rick froze. “What was that?”

JW shrugged and looked around. “I don’t know, maybe just the
metal settling? I think—what the hell?”
He looked up just in time to see an object falling from the walkway.
It landed with a thud on one of the nukes. JW expected it to slip off, but
he realized to his horror, that the object was a person. He had somehow
managed to grab hold and was hanging on for dear life.
“What the—who just fell?” Rick said in horror.
“Whoever it is we have to help them,” JW said, already scrambling
up the ladder toward the walkway. “Come on!”

:
JW grabbed the handrail, and looked down, then almost fell over
himself when he saw who it was. “Bryce?”
“Bryce?” Rick gasped, leaning over the railing for a look. “Bryce
what are you doing down there?”
“Oh, you know,” Bryce called back, his voice hoarse. “Just hanging
around. And while we’re at it, why the hell are the two of you
wandering around in your underwear?”
“Long story. Come on we need to get you out.”
“Yeah, about that, you should know that we aren’t alone in here.
Someone threw me off the platform.”
JW frowned at Rick. “What? Who? The crazy bitch that was
chasing you?”
“No, I’m pretty sure she’s dead.”
“Okay? Well then, who was it? And where did this mysterious
assailant go?”
“Not sure. I was too busy falling.”
Rick was looking up at the observation gallery, his face rigid. “I
think I know. The only place that makes sense.”

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Jessica.
Jessica froze in the middle of inspecting some of the papers lying
around the room. “Did you say something Sarah?”
“What?” Sarah asked irritably, not taking her eyes off her work.
“No.”
Jessica frowned. She was sure she had heard someone say her
name, quite insistently too. And it sounded like…
Jessica glanced quickly around the observation room. But there was
no one else there, other than Sarah who was under the computer
stations with a screwdriver trying to unbolt the plate to the control
panel.
Jessica shivered. She couldn’t have been imaging things, could she?
But then, who had spoken?
There was a loud clang and a muffled curse from Sarah. “Got it,”
she said, standing up from under the table. “Let’s get that nitrogen
flowing and then get the hell out of here.”
Jessica didn’t respond, straining her ears and listening, but the
voice didn’t speak again.
Shaking it off, Jessica walked over behind Sarah to see what she
was doing. As she did, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the
corner of her eye.
Jessica whipped her head around to look, but all she saw was the
dull grey sheen of the elevator doors.
“Hey Sarah?” she said nervously, as an uneasy feeling wormed its
way into the back of her mind. “I don’t mean to rush you, but
something tells me we should be getting out of here.”
“I know, I know,” Sarah said distractedly, her fingers flying across
the keyboard. “Let me just set a timer so we have enough of a window
to get out—”
And suddenly the nagging thought in the back of Jessica’s mind
became crystal clear.

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The elevator was moving.

And it was coming up.
Jessica tried to speak, but no sound came out as the elevator doors
opened with a happy: DING!
“As I said before, Ms. Bustos,” Nwarht said, stepping out of the
elevator. “Did you honestly think this could end any other way?”

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“What makes sense?” JW asked Rick impatiently, looking down at

Bryce still hanging onto the warhead for dear life.
“He’s going after the girls next. Don’t you see? He’s making us
choose. Either we save Bryce, or we go after him to try and save the
girls and make sure the nitrogen gets released. And we still have to
finish insulating the warhead. Either way, our plan fails.”
JW was silent as he digested that.
“If I can make a comment,” Bryce said from below them. “I have
almost no idea what you guys are talking about, but I know I’m not
important enough to risk this whole thing literally blowing up in our
face. I’m pretty sure I’m done for anyway. Leave me here and finish
this madness once and for all. Just…do it. Please.”
Rick clenched his fists. “This isn’t fair. What are we going to do?
We can’t do all of this at once. It’s not possible.”
“No,” JW said slowly. “Not possible.”
He looked up at the sky miles above. “But that’s just it. We have to
assume we can do it. I’m not going to let David die in vain.”
He turned to Rick. “Get back to the nuke and finish insulating it.
Even if we don’t make it out of here, we better damn well be sure we
take this nightmare weapon down with us.”
Rick nodded, his face pasty. “But what about Sarah and Jess? If
they’re in trouble—”
“Rick, in case you didn’t notice, those are two of the toughest
women on the planet up there. I guarantee you no matter what happens
that nitrogen is getting released.”
“I second that,” Bryce said, his voice weak. “Just hurry up and go
guys. We’re out of time.”
“Sorry Bryce, but you aren’t getting off that easily.” JW looked at
Rick. “Hurry and finish wrapping that nuke. We’ll catch up with you.”
Before Rick could reply, JW put his hand on the railing, swung his
legs over, and jumped.

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The deafening silence filling the control room was almost palpable.
Jessica couldn’t even hear the hum of the computers, or the sound of
her breaths, or the thudding of her heart. She could only focus on the
man standing in front of her, as she tried to grasp the impossibility of
the situation.
Nwarht’s black eyes seemed to gleam under the glow of the
fluorescent lights overhead. His necklace was gone, and with it, the last
lingering guise he had been using. Gone was the casual street garb they
had seen all this time. In its place was a crisp, military uniform, as pure
black as his eyes. A long scar ran across one side of his face, cutting
into the short, neatly trimmed hair that was so different from the style
she’d seen that night in the library of UNLV. Somewhere in the back of
her mind, Jessica knew she was seeing Nwarht as he had been 35,000
years ago, a military commander ready for battle. And death.
“How?” was all she could manage.
“I would have thought you could have figured it out by now,”
Nwarht said, his voice cold and steely, completely changed from the
cultured and suave tone Jessica had become accustomed to hearing. “In
life, there are no guarantees, and nothing left to chance. I plan for all
contingencies. That is simply what I do. I anticipated that David might
attempt to use the Mave toxin to do me in—quite clever of him,
actually. But it was one of my contingencies. Unfortunately, without
knowing the exact chemical composition of the toxin, I had to
synthesize an antidote by comparing it to similar plants on Earth.
Almost didn’t work. In the end, however, it worked well enough to not
only keep me alive, but also to make it appear as though I was dead.
Although for a moment I was certain that JW was about to chuck me
over the railing.”
“Too bad he didn’t.”
“Too bad indeed. And since your boyfriend has failed you, as well,
it’s time to end this.”

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“Bryce,” Jessica said through her suddenly parched lips. “What did
you do to him?”
“Nothing really, although I assume in a matter of minutes he’ll be
splattered into a multicolored pastel all over the floor of this volcano.”
“You…you disgusting—”
“Save your words Ms. Bustos,” Nwarht cut her off sharply. “I have
no time for them.”
He stepped forward. “Now get away from that computer, Ms.
Ruben. Your little scheme ends here. Creative though it might be, it
will not work. Even if I have to die here, you will not stop my weapon
from detonating.”
Sarah returned his cold smile, but made no move to leave the
computer. “How terribly brave of you. I thought you planned to die
here. Now that doesn’t seem to be the case. I wonder why?”
“Perhaps I did plan on not dying here, but instead decided I wanted
to witness the final, inevitable death of your dear David’s world. But in
war, one needs to do whatever is necessary to insure victory, even if it
means dying for that victory.”
“You’re such a master of rationalization,” Jessica bit out, stepping
in front of him to block his way. “But above all you’re a complete
assho—”
“Really now, Ms. Bustos. I’m sure your father raised you with
better manners than that.”
“What would you know about how my father raised me, you
sanctimonious scumbag?”
“Actually, I know a great deal about your family. Your father. Your
mother. Your brother.”
“My brother? What the hell does my brother have to do with any of
this?”
“Sadly, it no longer matters. Now stand aside. Both of you.”
“Sorry—not going to happen,” Sarah said, her voice hard. “You
want us to stop? Then stop us yourself.”
Nwarht smiled thinly. “As you wish.”
He threw Jessica a sarcastic glare. “Any last words Ms. Bustos?
Surely you have something worthwhile to say before you die.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Jessica growled, any fear
she had felt before completely gone. She spat each word out like a

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gunshot. “What—does—my—brother—have—to—do—with—this?”
Nwarht snorted. “For reasons that I don’t really understand, your
brother was on to me. He knew about me and I couldn’t figure out why.
So, I had one of the Chinese missiles malfunction, and oops, no more
Paul Bustos. No more Kansas City either, but—” he shrugged his
shoulders.
As Nwarht’s words registered, Jessica’s mind suddenly went blank
with rage. She flung herself at him, but Nwarht easily sidestepped,
hitting her with a spinning hammer fist strike to the temple as she went
barreling by. But the movement had shifted his focus and that was all
the distraction Sarah needed. Grabbing the screwdriver off the table,
she lunged forward and impaled it in Nwarht’s neck.
Nwarht roared and backhanded her, sending Sarah crashing over a
table.
Snarling, Nwarht yanked the screwdriver out of his neck, blood
gushing from the wound. He turned toward Sarah but Jessica jumped
on him from behind, sending him face-first onto the control console.
Nwarht cursed in some language Jessica couldn’t understand. Before
she could react, he grabbed her by the hair and tossed her to the side.
She hit the ground so hard she almost blacked out.
Nwarht started to push himself up, but by that time, Sarah had
recovered. Grabbing a chair, she slammed it into the back of Nwarht’s
head, smashing his face into the console so hard that the panels
exploded.
Somehow, Nwarht twisted around and kicked Sarah in the stomach.
She flew backward and knocked her head against the wall, slumped to
the ground and lay still.
Nwarht turned around just as Jessica rose, his face twisted with
hatred. The left side of his face looked like an undercooked steak and
patches of his hair were charred and smoking. Jessica decided she
probably didn’t look so good herself. Her head throbbed from Nwarht’s
punch, her right arm felt numb and her chest hurt so badly that she
suspected she had some broken ribs. But she was so charged with fury
and adrenaline that it barely registered.
In that moment, it was impossible to determine which of them was
more consumed with rage.
Nwarht flicked his sleeve, sliding a small switchblade into his hand.

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“And this is where it ends, Ms. Bustos. Your final chapter is about to be
written. If you’re so convinced of your moral high ground, show me
what you are fighting for. Your ideals? Your friends? Maybe your dear
David, who died in vain trying in his pathetic way to stop me. Or
perhaps even your mother? After all, technically at least, I killed her as
well. So, which is it Jessica? Show me right now.”
In response, Jessica screamed and charged. Nwarht smiled
triumphantly. But as he raised his knife, something flickered across his
field of vision and he hesitated a moment too long.
With all her momentum behind her, Jessica tackled Nwarht,
knocking him back and slamming him into the guardrail at the edge of
the observation platform. The void yawned beneath them, as though
waiting to receive the vanquished.
Nwarht slashed at her with his knife. Jessica caught his arm as the
knife grazed her shoulder. Nwarht growled and tried to pull free, but
with a fading burst of adrenaline, Jessica pushed forward, until they
were deadlocked with the knife between them.
For a long moment, time stood still.
Jessica locked eyes with Nwarht. “This is for my mother you sick
son-of-a-bitch,” she whispered. Still holding his arm, she activated her
tasers.
Nwarht screeched as the electricity arced through his body. He tried
to pull away, but the million volts Jessica had unleashed destroyed his
motor abilities. With a last burst of strength, Jessica let go and executed
a perfect double jump kick, sending him over the guardrail.
Nwarht screamed in anger as he fell.
Then he hit the ground several thousand feet below.
“Let’s see you plan for that,” Jessica murmured.
Then she crumpled to the floor.

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Although he was aware it was futile, the director banged his fist
against the blast doors.
Behind him, he heard Lucas run up to him. “I can’t find another
way in there. And my mind may be playing trick on me but it seems
like some of the doors are appearing and disappearing. This place is so
big we risk getting lost too easily.”
“We have to get back in there,” the director growled.
“Director, I understand, but you saw how thick those doors are.
We’re not getting back in there that way.”
Lucas thought for a second. “The top of the volcano,” he said
suddenly. “It’s the only way.”
“There’s no time to climb up the side of the mountain,” the director
protested.
“We don’t have to. We have Plan B.”
The director was perplexed for a moment. “Right, David’s ship. I’d
almost forgotten.”
They returned to the dining chamber. Lucas nodded to where David
still lay on the ground. “We have to take him,” he said quietly.
Lucas went over to David’s body and lifted him gently onto his
shoulders.
As they turned to leave, a pathetic attempt at a meow came from
behind them.
A severely injured Mo attempted to drag himself across the floor,
his hind legs either badly sprained or broken. He was missing several
chunks of fur and one eye was closed.
Silently, the director gingerly picked up the cat, being careful not to
injure it further. Mo looked up at him and began to purr, before
promptly falling asleep.
The director nodded at Lucas, and together they ran as fast as they
could down the tunnels.
The mag-lev carts were right where they left them. The major lay
David’s body down in one of the carts and they got into the first car. He

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activated the control panel and they went rocketing down the mountain.

:
The carts burst into the bright midday sunlight, slowed, and came to
a stop at the exact spot where they had first boarded.
“Now what?” the director said.
Lucas pulled out his phone and punched a few buttons. “Now we
wait.”
Even as he said it, Lucas could sense that something had changed.
A moment later, David’s ship materialized a dozen feet above their
heads.
“How did he die?”
“Nwarht,” Lucas responded to Gerty’s inquiry. “He killed him.”
“Then his mission was successful?”
“Not yet,” the director said grimly. “You have to get us inside the
volcano or his death will have been for nothing.”
Seconds later, they were inside the ship. Lucas gently lay David’s
body down on the floor of the ship, as the director did the same to Mo,
who, already looking much healthier, limped over to lay under a chair.
“Please remove all of his apparel.”
Lucas and the director did so with great care, all the while being
aware of the precariousness of their time situation. Once they were
finished, they stood up and took a couple of steps back.
Nothing seemed to happen for a few moments, suddenly the floor
around David’s body started to liquefy. Tendrils started to rise from the
liquid pool beneath David’s body and began enveloping him. Soon a
grayish liquid covered his body and a few seconds later it had
completely dissolved.
“What on earth?” the director said. “What happened?”
“David is now part of this ship and once we return to our world,
this ship will once again become part of it, as will David. He will be at
peace. Now, we must complete what he started.”
The ship began to move, picking up speed as it raced toward the top
of the mountain.
From under a chair the cat let out a satisfying “mrow.”

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18 Minutes to Detonation

JW landed lightly on his hands and feet on the nuke adjacent to

Bryce.
“Need some help?” he asked with a smile, extending his left hand.
“No, I’m doing just peachy,” Bryce said, looking dubiously at him.
“The hell do you think you’re doing, Duarte?”
“I’m saving your sorry ass. Now, do you think you can sit up on
that thing and give me a little bit of room?”
“Room for what?”
“So I can join you.”
Bryce groaned, both at the ridiculousness of attempting to jump
onto a four-foot tube suspended by some unknown force hundreds of
feet in the air, but mostly from the sharp pain emanating from the
various wounds all over his body. Somehow, he managed to push
himself as far as he dared toward the back of the nuke.
JW hesitated for a moment than easily leaped the five-foot gap and
landed lightly on the balls of his feet in front of Bryce.
“All right, I can’t do all the work. You have to stand up and climb
on my back.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Bryce asked weakly.
“Afraid not. Come on, I don’t think we have much time.”
Bryce made a move to stand up, and then almost lost his grip as an
inhuman scream echoed through the chamber. A second later, a body
streaked by and a sickening thud came from the bottom of the cave far
below.
“What the hell was that?” he hollered, gripping the nuke even
tighter.
JW realized his pulse was racing, but he forced a smile. “Told you
the girls could handle things. Now come on, we have to get you out of
here.”
Shakily, Bryce stood up slowly. His chest hurt like crazy, and he
was having trouble breathing, probably from a few broken ribs and

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other assorted internal injuries. The pain was beginning to really assert
itself as the adrenaline wore off. He grabbed JW around the neck and
carefully climbed on to his broad, muscled back, wrapping his legs
around his waist. He almost let go as the excruciating pain from his ribs
shot though his body, but managed to hang on. “This is going to hurt,”
he grumbled.
JW carefully looked up at the walkway and calculated the distance.
Without Bryce on his back, no problem. With Bryce—?
Bryce looked up as JW started to crouch. “Dude, no. I don’t care
what enhancements David gave you. There is no way you can make
that with me on your back.”
JW felt the pressure from Bryce’s arms around his neck lessen
slightly.
“Don’t you dare let go Costa or…or….”
“Or what?”
“Or Jessica is mine,” he blurted out.
For some reason, that struck Bryce as incredibly funny. He started
laughing, which his ribs immediately reminded him was not a good
idea.
“Oh man, I can’t do that to you,” he said, increasing his grip around
JW’s neck. “All right, do it before I change my mind.”
Smiling humorlessly to himself, JW crouched down and leapt for
the platform.

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15 Minutes to Detonation

Sarah felt someone gently shaking her. As she slowly opened her
eyes, she took a mental pain inventory of her body, to ascertain which
parts were currently injury free. None, she decided. An image flashed
through her mind—the terrifying sensation of Nwarht’s hand on her
shoulder shaking her awake. Instead, she opened her eyes to the
bloodied, badly bruised face of Jessica.
“Damn you,” she muttered. “How can anyone be as messed up as
you and still look so good?”
“Good genes,” Jessica responded, helping her to her feet.
“Nwarht?”
“He had to drop in somewhere. He had an appointment in hell.”
“You are one tough lady—I’ll give you that.”
“Can’t take all the credit. That screwdriver to the neck took a lot
out of him.”
“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”
With Jessica’s help, they hobbled over to the elevator. Jessica
punched in the code, but nothing happened. “You have got to be
kidding me.”
“Oh no,” Sarah breathed. “It can’t mean—quick, help me to the
control panel!”
Sarah groaned as soon as they got close. “No, no no NO! Damn it!
It’s all fried!”
“Um, why would the elevator be on the same frame as the
computer?”
“How should I know?” Sarah said, poking at the keyboard.
“Because life is freaking unfair, that’s why.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Not in the time we have left.”
“What do you need to fix it?”
“It’s shorted out, so some power would be nice. And then a way to
re-route the wiring.”

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“I can help with the power. The wiring—”

“You carry a power generator around with you?”
“Sort of,” she responded as she removed her taser-bracelets.
“Would a couple million volts help?”
“It might,” Sarah admitted, shaking her head in slight wonder.
Sarah pulled a small tool out of her pocket. She pointed it at one of
the bracelets and pushed one of the three buttons on the handle. A small
compartment on the bracelet slid open. She took two wires from the
panel, and using another function of the tool, sonically fused the wires
to the bracelet. She then repeated the procedure with two other wires
and the second bracelet. She removed her phone from her back pocket,
reconfigured some of the settings and after some trial and error
managed to power up the panel.
“Gotta find those relay switches pronto. Not sure how long this
spit-and-gum setup is going to hold. Quick, give me your phone.”
Using the phones as a virtual control panel, within minutes Sarah
had tapped into the environmental controls.
“Here goes nothing,” she said as she held her breath and tapped the
screen.
For a few moments, nothing happened. Then the temperature
started to drop, as a white mist began to fill the cave.

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 Chapter 82
14 Minutes to Detonation

They almost didn’t make it.

JW’s hands hit the the walkway, barely managing to get his fingers
on the edge of the platform. For a few seconds, the two of them swung
wildly from the momentum of their bodies; JW hanging on by his
fingertips, while Bryce hung on tight, his eyes tightly shut as enormous
pain racked his chest.
JW clenched his jaw, desperately trying to get a better grip. He tried
to pull himself up, but the combined weight was too much. He tensed,
frantically trying to maintain his grip.
“We won’t make it,” Bryce gasped, trying to ignore the pain about
to make him faint. “I have to let go.”
“Don’t you dare,” JW grunted, straining to pull them up. “I’ve…
just…got to…”
Just as his fingers began to lose their grip on the edge of the
platform, a hand grabbed his forearm tightly. JW looked up at Rick’s
crooked grin.
“Well—looks like I have to do all the work around here, doesn’t
it?”
With the assist from Rick, JW was easily able to pull himself, and
Bryce, onto the platform. Bryce rolled onto his back, groaned loudly,
and promptly passed out.
“Were you able to finish the nuke?” asked JW, breathing heavily.
“You know it,” Rick grinned, pointing to where a now very
colorfully dressed nuclear warhead floated in the middle of the
chamber. “And I figured out how to move it to the center of the others
so it’ll truly take them out from within.”
“You’re awesome Rick,” JW said, slapping him on the shoulder.
“Come on.” Picking up Bryce, he started walking down the walkway
with Rick right behind him. It wasn’t until they were almost at the door
that they noticed it.

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“Who the hell closed the door?” Rick asked in horror, staring at the
massive blast doors locked solidly in place, as though mocking them.
JW closed his eyes, trying not to scream. They were so close, and
yet, impossibly, so far away.

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10 Minutes to Detonation

The ship hovered silently over the mouth of the volcano. Lucas and
the director looked down through the transparent floor of the ship, into
the cavern and the massive array of nuclear weapons far below.
“Can we go down into the caldera?” the director asked uncertainly.
“There is an obstruction covering the opening.”
“Can you disable it?”
“Negative. This ship does not have any offensive weaponry.”
“Maybe not, but I do,” the director said, pulling the plasma gun
from his hip. “If you can get me down to the rim, I can blast it open.”
The director pulled out the blaster only to have Lucas take it from
his hands. “With all due respect sir, my primary mission is still to
protect you. So, if it’s all the same—”
“It’s not all the same to me, major. This mess is my responsibility
and I plan on finishing it, one way or another.”
“Perhaps. But I have to insist. Gertrude, can you tell what type of
shield is covering the opening?”
“It appears to be some form of translucent graphite, fortified by an
electric grid.”
“Could this weapon blast a hole through it?”
“Uncertain.”
“Reassuring,” Lucas grunted. “Okay, put me down on the rim.”
The director stepped in front of him. “Major, I could order you to
stand down.”
“You could. But if you do, you know perfectly well that you will
have to bring me up on charges. I think you know a failure-to-comply
isn’t going to discourage me.”
The director sighed unhappily, but backed away. “You realize we
will have to discuss your actions later?”
“Director, there is nothing that I would like better, because that will
mean that there is a later. Right now, that’s not a given.”
A few moments later, Lucas was standing on the edge of the caldera

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looking down into the gaping maw of a volcano. Under other

circumstances, the sight would have been awe-inspiring. As it was, he
was simply calculating the best angle to fire at the shield without
hitting one of the nukes. He hesitated momentarily, wondering if he
should simply start blasting away with the plasma gun. He was sure he
could take out a few hundred or even thousands of the nukes, given
their proximity to one another. He wasn’t sure how much of a charge
the weapon had, but he was certain that if he went down that path he
would be condemning his brave comrades to death, with no certainty
that his actions would be enough to save the rest of the world. It wasn’t
worth the risk. Time to do the smart thing.
He took a deep breath and fired the weapon at a slight angle. The
plasma bolt ricochet off the shield with a loud TWANG and blasted a
large hole on the far side of the crater.
“Seriously? What is this stuff? Ugh—screw it.” Pointing the gun
straight down and squeezing his eyes shut, he fired.

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6 Minutes to Detonation

JW pressed his palms against the blast doors and tried as hard as he
could to force the doors open. They didn’t budge. “Damn it! If I had
some kind of grip, I bet I could pry these open.”
A barely conscious Bryce shook his head, from where he was
leaning on Rick. “Look dude, you may be Superman, but even you ain’t
gonna open those anytime soon. There must be an easier way out of
here. Down?”
Rick shook his head. “Even if we could climb down, I seriously
doubt there’s an open door waiting for us.”
“They haven’t released the nitrogen yet though. Do you think—?”
“They’re fine,” JW assured him. “I guarantee it. Huh…is that—?”
A faraway explosion suddenly boomed through the chamber. Rick
and Bryce both jumped. “What the hell?”
“It’s all right guys,” JW grinned. “I’m not a hundred percent sure,
but I think Major Lucas is up there on the rim. And he just blasted the
cover off the top of this thing. That, gentlemen, is going to be our way
out.”
“I don’t see how,” Bryce said. “The top is several thousand feet up.
You could probably hop from one nuke to the other and get near the
top, but even then the uppermost row is still a few hundred feet from
the rim.”
“Once we get to the top, the ship can elevator us up,” JW explained.
“You think the ship is up there?”
“Just how many blows to the head did you take man? How else
would Lucas have gotten up there?”
“Oh, true,” Bryce said. “But that still doesn’t answer how we get to
the top. Even if you piggyback us up one at a time, a gargantuan feat
even for you, I seriously doubt there is enough time to even get one of
us up there, much less both. And let’s not forget about Sarah and Jess—
you gonna get them also?”
“Shit!”

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Bryce glanced up at the ceiling again and was astonished to see a

fog rolling across the cavern. “Um, what’s that?”
Rick shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe it. Not only did
they take out that nut job, but they activated the nitrogen too. If we get
out of this, I’m going to have to marry myself one of them girls.”
“Um, of course Rick. Also, is it me or is it starting to get incredibly
cold in here?”
“It’s not you, Bryce,” Rick said. “It’s getting much colder and in
another five minutes or so, we’ll probably be frozen stiff.”
“Not to worry. In exactly five minutes the nukes are going to
detonate, so we’ll warm up awfully fast.”
As if on cue, an alarm started chiming and the nukes started moving
inward, upward and downward, depending on their location. It
appeared as if slowly but surely, they were congregating in the center
of the cavern.

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 Chapter 85
4 Minutes to Detonation

The director was pacing anxiously by the time Lucas made it back
onto the ship. “It’s all clear now Gertrude, take us down.”
“I am sorry Mr. Lucas; I am unable to comply.”
Lucas had a momentary flashback to a science fiction movie he had
seen as a kid, about a rogue computer on an early 21st century
spaceship that refused to obey the crew and decided to kill them
instead.
“And why not?”
“Insufficient maneuvering room.”
Looking down, Lucas realized how little room there was between
the walls of the volcano and the outermost nukes. “Goddammit!”
“How about the elevator?” the director suggested. “Can you
teleport them out?”
“Negative. The electro-magnetic interference from the energy
beams holding the weapons in suspension would interfere with the lift’s
energy, causing a 95% probability of catastrophic—”
“For the love of Christ, do you have a rope? A bungee cord?
Anything?”
“Major—”
“How can we be so close and not be able to do anything to get them
out of there?”
The director closed his eyes. “How much time do we have
Gertrude?”
“Approximately 3 minutes. I detect a significant drop in
temperature inside the structure as well.”
The director smiled halfheartedly. “Well Major, if it’s any
consolation it appears the ladies managed to save humanity. If nothing
else.”
“There appears to be an active communication device in the
proximity of Miss Ruben and Miss Bustos.”

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The director shook his head. “The least I can do is say goodbye.
Can you access it?”
“Affirmative.”

:
“Hi Jess. Can you hear me?”
The disembodied sound of her father’s voice made Jessica jump.
She was sitting with her back against the wall, huddled close to Sarah,
trying to stay as warm as possible.
“Dad, is that you? Where are you?”
“We’re up in David’s ship. Gertrude tapped into your phone so we
could talk to you.”
“Can you come and get us?”
For a moment the director was unable to speak as his throat locked
up. “Not yet. There’s no room to maneuver the ship and the lift won’t
function properly in there with all the magnetic interference. If we can’t
figure something else out soon, we’ll just give the lift a try and hope for
the best.”
“Dad. Get yourself and the ship out of here. No reason for you to
die as well. We activated the nitrogen, so at least you and the major can
live. Sometimes life deals you a crappy hand dad—deal with it. You
told me that, remember?”
The director had to work hard to keep the tears from coming to his
eyes.
“Jess, I couldn’t be any prouder of you than I am right now. I don’t
want you to think that you were ever a mistake. You’re the best thing
that ever happened to me. As for leaving, it’s not going to happen. The
major can take the ship and go. I plan on staying right here with you
until the end. If you have to die, you’re not going to die alone.”
“Dad,” she whimpered, knowing that nothing she could say would
change his mind. “You have to. Besides, I’m not alone—” she was
interrupted by a very loud alarm. Moments later, the bombs started
moving toward the center of the caldera.
So, this is how it ends, she thought.

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2 Minutes to Detonation

“Rick, any idea what that’s all about?” Bryce asked as the three of
them stared in awe at the surreal scene of thousands of nuclear bombs
floating on air, suddenly moving towards each other.
“It makes sense. Now that maintenance is no longer an issue, the
final phase is to move them as close to each other as physically
possible. That way the distance between them is minimized so all the
weapons can truly detonate as one giant weapon. Quite brilliant.”
“Well, I for one am quite ecstatic at the plan’s brilliance,” Bryce
grumbled.
“Yeah, Rick. What’s with the grin? Have you gone nuts?”
Rick shook his head. “Don’t you see, boys? In his brilliance,
Nwarht has saved us. We’re going home.”

:
“Gertrude, any idea what’s happening down there?” Lucas asked as
he watched the bombs beginning to drift together far below.
“Insufficient data.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the director said suddenly. “The correct
question is—do you have enough maneuvering room?”
“At the current rate of motion of the below objects, there will be
enough space to maneuver the ship into the caldera in approximately
20 seconds.”
“All right then, listen very carefully. Move into the optimal position
to extract Jessica and Sarah as soon as you calculate that it is safe to do
so. Then immediately move in for extraction of JW, Bryce, and Rick.”
“Acknowledged.”
Moments later the ship descended rapidly into the caldera, stopping
inches from the platform. The ship did not bother to use the elevator
apparatus on Jessica and Sarah. Because of their proximity, it simply

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created a vacuum and pulled them straight through the ship’s skin while
simultaneously extracting JW, Bryce and Rick with the elevator.
The girls came flying through the skin of the ship and landed in a
heap on the floor. A moment later, the boys materialized on the bridge
of the ship, looking slightly disoriented. It happened so fast everyone
was momentarily left speechless.
Lucas recovered first. “Gertrude, get us the hell out of this place!”
Everyone was thrown to the floor as the ship raced out of the
mountain, toward the brilliant blue of the sky above.

:
The ship was 100 miles away when the unreinforced upper portion
of Mount Mayon was completely blown off by the explosion. Everyone
watched in horrified fascination as a giant mushroom cloud ascended
toward the heavens.
“Dear god,” Jessica said, pushing herself up off the floor. “Did we
fail?”
“No Jessica, we didn’t,” the director said quietly. “But it seems a
hollow victory nevertheless.”
“How many people do you think will die?” Sarah asked into the
stony silence.
“Hard to say. The force of the blast was mostly directed upward and
the area around the volcano was already sparsely populated because of
the volcanic eruption a couple of decades ago. Still, it could be
thousands of immediate casualties and, depending on the prevailing
winds, tens of thousands from radiation poisoning in the coming days
and weeks.”
They all stood staring silently at the cloud as it continued to rise.
After several minutes, it began to dissipate and lose its morbid beauty.
“Gerty, take us home,” JW said.
“Sorry JW, unclear as to destination.”
They all looked at each other, no one knowing how to respond,
equally unclear as to what the word home meant to any of them.

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 Epilogue

The bright city lights glimmering in the darkness had always been
comforting to her; a feeling of peace and security the modern world had
to offer.
That was before. Now, all Jessica saw was a fragile expanse of
vulnerability, a network of technology that could be wiped out in the
blink of an eye.
Deep inside, she knew that she would never be able to go back to
having a normal life.
Behind her, the bedroom door opened with a creak.
“Are you still standing there?” Kelly asked in mild surprise.
“You’ve been staring out that window for an hour. Is there—is
something wrong?”
Jessica took a deep breath, turning around. “No, I’m fine Kelly. Just
thinking.”
“Dangerous stuff,” Kelly said, shaking her head. “Especially for
you.”
Jessica smiled faintly, and then frowned as she noticed the suitcase
in Kelly’s hand. “Are you going somewhere?”
Kelly gave her an ironic smile. “Only to Australia. Like I
mentioned maybe three times during the last week. I’m going to the
International Art Exhibition.”
Jessica rubbed her eyes. “Right. I remember.”
Kelly gave her a quick hug. “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Try
to relax girl. After all, you won’t have me to vent to for a while.”
“I will Kelly, thanks. Have a safe trip.”
Giving her one last smile, Kelly closed the door behind her.
After she had gone, the silence brought back Jessica’s agitation
almost immediately. Sitting down in a chair, she closed her eyes. She
knew Kelly was right, and she needed to stop worrying and relax. But
she couldn’t.
The ringtone of her phone made her jump. She grabbed her phone
and glanced at the caller ID. With a frown, she hit the answer button.
“Hello, Rick. What can I do for you?”

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:
A slight breeze caught the tongues of flames rising from the
campfire, sending crackling embers dancing through the air.
Bryce’s eyes followed them as they rose upward, until they winked
out against the backdrop of the night sky.
All around him, the cold Pismo Beach air was still and calm,
punctuated only by the occasional croaking of frogs and the distant
crash of the surf against the beach.
Bryce leaned back in his chair, gently petting Mo who had fallen
asleep on his lap. The cat grunted sleepily, curling his tail over his nose
for warmth.
Weeks had passed since that day at Mount Mayon, and yet, Bryce
felt no sense of safety or security. His mind wouldn’t, or couldn’t,
accept the fact that the crisis had passed. He could still see the
mushroom cloud in his vision when he closed his eyes, and hear
Osaka’s voice when he was by himself. Why had she called him
messiah?
And when he slept, he didn’t dream.
Reaching into his pocket, Bryce pulled out several folded pictures
that he had taken from the house in Pasadena. He flipped through them
slowly, a feeling of sadness slowly growing in his chest. Nwarht had
caused so much pain, for so many, all to accomplish…what? Bryce
couldn’t even begin to comprehend the twisted path of destruction
Nwarht had left in his wake; how many lives had been lost, or ruined,
for his grand design.
But at least they had stopped him. Nwarht, and the weapons that
had started and ended this whole convoluted web, were no more.
And yet, something still felt wrong.
Bryce looked back up at the sky. For a second, he saw a distant star
flicker, as though at that moment it had winked out of existence.
Bryce.
Bryce jerked. For the briefest instant, he thought he saw a figure
standing on the other side of the fire. Then it was gone, as a strong gust
momentarily blew the flames horizontal.
Bryce frowned and stood up, much to Mo’s disapproval. The cat

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meowed in annoyance and jumped back onto the chair.

Stepping forward, Bryce noticed something on the ground at the
edge of the campfire; a small stone with something etched onto the
surface; a man standing at the entrance of a maze.
Bryce reached down, and as his hand closed over the stone, a flood
of images flashed through his mind. The barrage was so intense it was
hard to process it all; an explosion of pure data and information. He
saw himself running through the dark hallways of a house, holding
hands with someone he couldn’t see; saw David’s ship, battered and
damaged, falling through the atmosphere of a planet; saw Lucas
stumbling through the streets of a burning city, holding a bloody hand
to his side; saw Jessica, facing a dozen pellucid silhouettes in an
endless expanse of darkness.
There were other images there as well, almost too bizarre and
disturbing to comprehend—a massive shimmering anomaly hanging in
the blackness of space, its brilliant white light lancing out in all
directions; a body lying in the middle of ancient ruins, the words
memento mori carved into its skin; a blackened Earth, its surface
running with rivers of fire.
The next instant, the images were ripped away and Bryce found
himself floating through space, lost amid the endless expanse of the
cosmos.
In the distance, a blinking point of light caught his eye. As he drew
closer, he realized it was a strange spaceship, its ebon hull making it
almost invisible in the darkness, save for the glowing light of its
engines.
Bryce felt himself floating toward it, an uncomfortable feeling of
fear settling in his stomach as he read the name painted on the hull:

LEGACY

He drew inexorably closer, bracing himself for the imminent impact

against the hull of the ship. Instead, he simply floated through the hull
as if it didn’t exist, finding himself in a massive holding bay.
Spread out below him were thousands of nuclear warheads, most
completely assembled, other in various stages of assembly. Yellow
containers marked with radiation symbols lined the walls.

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The next instant he found himself standing on the bridge, its design
almost identical to David’s ship.
A single figure stood in front of a massive viewport, looking out
into space. She wore a blindingly white coat, which looked out of place
among the pure black machinery of the ship. She seemed familiar
somehow, as though Bryce had met her not so long ago.
She turned and looked over her shoulder at Bryce. Try as he might,
Bryce could not get her face to come into focus. She mouthed
something inaudible, but Bryce somehow understood.
Tell Jessica I’m sorry.
The image began to blur. As it did, Bryce heard laughter, harsh and
emotionless, as though someone was listening to a joke only they
understood.

:
“Bryce?”
Bryce blinked. He was back at the campground and to his surprise
Jessica was standing next to him.
“Jess? What the hell are you doing here?”
“If you don’t want to be found, take the battery out of your watch
next time. I need to talk to you about something.”
“And for that you drove all the way out to Pismo Beach? In the
middle of the night?”
“It’s not that far. And it’s important, Bryce.”
The light from the campfire cast a ghostly glow on her face, but
even the dim light was enough to make him realize how deeply worried
she looked.
“What is it?”
“Rick called me. He wanted to know if I could calculate how many
nukes I remembered seeing back in the mountain.”
“Why?”
“Six thousand.”
“What?”
“Six thousand nukes. That’s all. Only six thousand nuclear
weapons.”

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“That’s still a lot of nukes Jess—”

“Not for what the weapon was designed to do. And Nwarht knew
that.”
Bryce shook his head. “What are you getting at?”
“Rick hypothesized that the weapon would need something like
20,000 or more weapons to work. But, no matter how many nukes he
used, Nwarht knew the beam wouldn’t be potent enough to hold
cohesion for that distance. At most, a direct hit would cause some
minor electrical disturbances. But David stated several times that most
of his species’ technology is organic in nature. The EMP would have
had very little effect.”
“So, the volcano, the weapons, they were all a what? A trick?”
“A diversion. Phase 1. Maybe it was to rid the Earth of humans, so
there would be no one to stop him. After that he would be free to carry
out his vendetta. We just didn’t realize it because we never questioned
his plan. Something I said back in the cave put the thought in Rick’s
mind, but he didn’t get it until today.”
“But David had to have known that as well.”
“I’m sure he did. But I don’t think for David it was ever about
saving his planet, it was about saving us.”
Bryce was silent for a while, staring into the fire.
“So, what was his real plan?”
Jessica closed her eyes, tears building on the edges. “Who the hell
knows with that crazy fuck? I don’t know, Bryce. And neither did Rick.
All we know is that Nwarht’s real plan must involve a way to get the
rest of the weapons directly to David’s world to completely obliterate
it.”
A cold feeling slid down Bryce’s spine. He looked down at the last
picture he was still holding in his hand. It was a photograph of a large
lake with one bold word typed in red:

LEGACY

“Bryce?”
He looked up.
“This was all for nothing, wasn’t it? Everything we went through?
In the end, it was all meaningless.”

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Bryce shook his head. Slipping the picture into his pocket, he threw
the rest of the photographs onto the fire. “Not meaningless Jess. Just
the first chapter.”
Jessica studied Bryce in the glow of the fire, silently noting how
mature and grounded he suddenly seemed.
Maybe that’s the way he has always been, a small voice in her head
seemed to say.
She gave him a hug, much to his surprise. Just as quickly she
stepped away, smiling, despite the tears now running down her cheeks.
“You’re right. This was only one chapter. I think the real story begins
now.”
“Mrow.”
Bryce returned the smile and picked up Mo, who had come over to
rub on his legs. The cat immediately began to purr. They stood there for
a long time, holding hands, staring at the flames, while the pictures in
the fire pit turned to ash and danced upward toward the sky.

:
The dark sparkling points of light from the millions of stars seemed
close enough to touch, as though they were just outside the window.
JW knew it was just a trick of the mind, but it was still a unique feeling,
being here in space.
“Everything all right Gerty?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Nothing has changed in the half hour since you last asked, JW.”
“Just checking,” he grinned.
The smile faded. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t stay
happy. Although he realized that he had saved thousands of lives by
programming the ships nanonites to cure those injured by the nuclear
blast, it was the faces of the ones he couldn’t save that haunted him.
The face of one little girl, in particular, he couldn’t get out of his mind.
She had been burnt almost beyond recognition, yet still managed to
smile when he had said ‘hello’.
He had told Director Bustos that he wanted to take David back to
his world. Truthfully, however, he simply wanted to escape. Escape
from everything.

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But no matter how fast the ship, he couldn’t outrun his memories.
Rubbing his eyes, he looked around the ship. It had only been a few
weeks since he had found himself here, yet it felt like several lifetimes
ago.
He looked out to the stars again. “Don’t you worry David,” he said
softly. “I’ll get you home. That is one promise I intend to keep.”
He clapped his hands. “Full speed ahead, Gertrude. We have a
mission to finish.”
There was a slight hum as the ship’s engines went full throttle.
Billions of stars seemed to blink out of existence as the ship folded
space around itself; disappearing into the blackness as though it had
never existed.

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