EARTH’S LAST WAR

"A gripping read! This BIG epic novel has it all, history, government conspiracies, alien abduction, space battles and treks across alien worlds--with hot M/F romance!

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"EARTH'S LAST WAR, WOW! .... What an explosively fun ride, blending a terrific sci-fi story with beautifully presented, sexy STEAM! A rare accomplishment!"

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"Smart and sexy! WINNER of our Best New Author Award!

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EARTH’S

LAST WAR

By

GLENN VAN DYKE

EARTH’S LAST WAR

Copyright © 2015 Glenn Van Dyke

All Rights reserved.

Cover image copyright

© 2015 U.S. Copyrights Office

Author’s Webpage

www.glennvandyke.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

Cover by Claudio Aboy

Exclusively made for

EARTH’S LAST WAR

“Thanks Claudio, you brought my vision to life!”

Cover image copyright

© 2015 U.S. Copyrights Office

Also ‘thank you’ to my editor

Brooke Anderson

Richard C. Hoagland

George Noory

Carl Sagan

and Zechariah Sitchin

… thanks …

for expanding my universe

Special Dedication

to Leonard Nimoy

… your memory will

‘Live Long and Prosper’

To my wife,

my inspiration …

Contents

Cover

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Prologue

Sinus Iridium - Bay of Rainbows

Moon

“Do you hear that?” said Erich Guerling, head of the archeological team. The sound drew him to the opalescent glass shards of Sinus Iridium’s ragged dome, high above. The wall of fragmented glass was vibrating, creating seismic waves that reverberated as a soft, melodic ringing inside his environmental protection suit.

Following his gaze, Erich’s two assistants watched the large, two-hundred meter tall section of the wall’s latticework, tottering. Instinctively, they dropped the handles to the hoversleds carrying their personal equipment and began to back up. As the wall began to fracture, Erich yelled for his team to, “Run!”

The three of them turned, bounding away as quickly as their suits would allow. Behind them, the massive structure was crumbling, surreally twisting and falling to the ground in slow motion. As they felt it beginning to crash down behind them, they all took a last bounding dive out of harm’s way.

Lost inside a large cloud of gray, lunar dust, “Everyone all right?” called Erich, lying there, panting.

“I won’t need to shave tomorrow, if that’s what you mean. That was way too close,” answered James, as he rolled over onto his hands and knees.

“If we had arrived ten seconds earlier we’d be underneath all that mess,” said James’ new wife, Kathryn. “We were lucky.”

Rising, their cumbersome suits making the simple act of getting to their feet a matter of great effort—they saw that the edge of the ancient, monolithic structure had fallen just ten meters behind them. In silence, through the heavy haze, they began to make out the details of the debris field. A tangled web of beams and shards of glass lay everywhere, stacked a dozen stories tall.

“You’re right, Kat. We were lucky,” said Erich in agreement. “Very lucky.”

As they strained to see through the slowly clearing dust to where the scaffolding had fallen from, a dark, menacing, heavily armored vessel was just appearing, coming over the top of the domes decayed wall. The vessel’s spinning arrays and dishes were actively scanning, its missile bay doors open—its gun turrets raised. She was ready for combat.

Obscured by the cloud of dust, the three of them stood quietly, not wanting to draw attention to themselves as the craft flew by overhead. Behind it, three more, much larger, boxier, carrier vessels came into view.

After the ships had passed, they quickly bounded back to the skimmer that lay waiting, ninety meters away. Daring to use the skimmer’s transmitter, Erich broadcasted, “Hoagland Cen-Comm—this is Erich Guerling from Outpost 119. There are four ships in the Bay of Rainbows; they just passed over us at the Looking Glass dig site. They are headed in your direction—do you copy?”

“This is Hoagland Central Communications. That is a copy. We are tracking them on radar. Please standby.”

“We should go back to the Outpost, get to the Noory!” said Kathryn, her concern evident.

“Agreed. There’s no point in waiting here,” affirmed Erich. “We need to get back to Cen-Comm.” To himself, his gut churning, I just hope it’s still there when we arrive.

Richard C. Hoagland

Central Communications -

United Nations Headquarters -

Moon

Responding to the alarm sounding throughout the expansive complex, President Tomlinson, a dark haired, young man of ninety-six, arrived with his security detail in tow.

“Sir, safety protocols dictate that you should go to the bunker with the other dignitaries,” said Commander Adams.

Ignoring the Commander, President Tomlinson, Secretary-General of the United Nations, requested a status update.

“The team from Outpost 119 called in a visual confirmation a few minutes ago as the ships passed over the Looking Glass site. Radar signatures have identified them as being Enlil’s. One destroyer, three carriers. At their current speed, they will be here in five minutes.

Sir, you really should head to the bunker,” said Adams.

With a heavy sigh, resigned to his fate, President Tomlinson replied, “It’s too late, Commander. I knew this day was coming. I think we all did. Seal the domes. Lock everything down. For all the good it will do.

Put me through to Admiral Steven Sherrah at the Challenger Deep Sea Base, high security mode.”

Challenger Deep Sea Base –

Earth

“Admiral—I have President Tomlinson on a secure line, contacting us from Hoagland Central Communications at the UN Headquarters. He says they are under attack!”

“Put us on full alert—and put him through,” said Steven. Turning to his pilot, “Robbie, take us back to Sea Base.”

“Aye, sir.”

In the brief moment it took for them to be connected, Robbie spun the Dolphin Transport round and punched the thrusters, heading home. Steven’s eyes followed the running lights of harvester-bots as they farmed the sea-gardens, his mind anxiously anticipating what the President was going to say.

On the console between them, the President’s holo appeared. “Admiral Sherrah, it’s nice to speak with you again, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

“As do I, Mr. President. What’s your situation?”

“Not good. There is so much to tell you—and no time. A few weeks ago, when I gave you command of Sea Base, my staff began preparing a brief to bring you up to speed. I was going to give you the file at Columbus’ christening next month, when we could discuss it privately. I’m sorry that I won’t be there to guide you because one of the facets in particular is going to be quite awkward for you, given your current personal circumstances—but I have faith in you.

My staff is collating the files from my computer as we speak and will start the upload to you shortly. The file is far from complete, but at least it will provide you with the basics of what you need to know.”

From off-screen, Steven heard someone advising the President. “Sir, Enlil’s ships have breached the western perimeter. Shields are down in that sector, all defensive arrays destroyed. ETA to Cen-Comm—two minutes.

Sir, do you want me to initiate Project Terminus?”

Without hesitation, “No,” the President responded, shaking his head. “Upload everything regarding the project to Sea Base, now!”

“Uploading,” responded the off-screen voice.

Turning to Steven, the President continued: “Project Terminus is a Hail Mary, a last resort. It would kill most life on Earth. Simulations are inconclusive as to whether Sea Base would survive. The result of escalating earthquakes, tidal changes, tsunamis—it would be a matter of luck. So again, it is a last resort. I pray that you will never need to use it.

The file will explain the specifics of what Project Terminus is—and how to activate it.

This next part will be hard for you to accept—but you need to know that the perpetrator behind this attack is an entity known as Enlil. His world is in the Sirius B star system. I’d be remiss not to mention that we’ve had a working arrangement with him.”

“Enlil? Sirius B? From the ancient Sumerian texts?”

“Yes. One and the same,” confirmed the President. “I’m well aware of your interest in the ancient Sumerian writings and the translations done by Zechariah Sitchin. I’ve been told that you are quite the scholar, having taken great interest in his theories.”

“Yes, sir—but-,” said Steven.

Cutting him off, “I know how it sounds Admiral—and Zechariah’s theories, in many ways are more accurate than you realize. As for Enlil, yes—he exists. Even now, thousands of years later, he is alive and well. And, since you are familiar with Enlil’s historical background—then you also know that he’s not going to stop with us. When he’s done here, he’ll head to Earth. He wants all of us dead.

I must advise you, do not take on Enlil directly. Columbus is a great ship, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against his fleet or even this smaller contingent of warships that we’re tracking on radar.

I want you to hide. Stay alive. Someday, god willing, you’ll get your chance.”

The President wiped his tearing eyes. With a sigh he collected his thoughts before again meeting Steven’s gaze, “Steven, I need a favor. My wife and son are in Rome, if you could …”

“I understand, sir. You have my word; we’ll find them and bring them here.”

The President sighed, thankful.

A series of explosions resonated, drawing the President’s attention to the scene unfolding behind him. Turning round, the President saw the hydroponics dome next to his own, exploding. “My god!”

On the holo, behind the President’s shoulders, Steven could see people flailing, floating amid a sea of green shrubs and tangled debris. Within seconds, they were stilled, carried off the screen as if by invisible strings.

The President quickly whipped round to face Steven, worry and concern etched on his face, “Steven, you need to go to-”

The line went silent.

Steven swallowed past the lump in his throat. The President’s worried face and frantically spoken words alluded to something direly important for Steven to know. Deep inside, a small flame awakened. Its warmth called to him. He could sense—something—someone—faraway.

***

Twenty-five minutes later, Erich and his team reached Outpost 119 to find it destroyed. As he brought the skimmer to a stop, they stared in shock at how little was left. The living habitat was gone, its communication relays destroyed. What little was left was nothing more than a twisted pile of unrecognizable debris. Even their Dolphin Transport, Noory, was but a massive field of strewn wreckage.

“Does this mean that …” Kathryn’s quavering words trailed off.

“One step at a time. It’s too early to ask those questions. Until we know more, you two lovebirds try to find some oxygen cylinders. We’re going to need them,” said Erich putting on a front of optimism for the newly, married couple. He also knew that Kathryn was right—based on the approach vector, after their Outpost, the UN Headquarters would be next.

“I’m going to see if I can scrounge up some parts from the relay’s debris to boost the strength of the skimmer’s transmitter.

With a little luck, I can strengthen the signal enough to reach Hoagland Cen-Comm—get them to send a transport to pick us up.”

It wasn’t long before Erich found what he needed. Having jury-rigged a booster for the skimmer’s transmitter, he began sending a distress call. Over the next hour as he tried to make contact, he occasionally caught sight of James and Kathryn moving through the chunks of debris and rubble, searching for tanks of oxygen. From what he heard over the comm, they were having no more success than he was.

Two hours passed before James and Kathryn felt compelled to give up in their search and returned to Erich at the skimmer. “Nothing from Cen-Comm?”

“Not yet. You—any luck?”

“Nothing. We didn’t find a single tank. Everything is in a million pieces,” said James.

“Sir, we need to talk,” said Kathryn taking a glance over at James for affirmation before she spoke. “I ran the numbers; if we stay here, we have about fifteen hours of air, but-”

“Don’t even say it,” said Erich. “They’ll come for us.”

“It’s been more than two hours since you contacted them from the Looking Glass dig site. They could have had a transport here in ten minutes,” added James, supporting his wife.

“There could be lots of reasons why they haven’t come yet,” said Erich.

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t explain why they haven’t responded to your distress call. Look around at what the ships did here—if they did that to the UN—then you know as well as I do, they aren’t coming,” said James.

Kathryn chimed in, her words soft and comforting, “What he’s trying to say is—while there may not be anything left to return too—James and I, at least have each other.

We want you to try to get back to your family. The three of us can’t make it, but one person can.”

“We want you to take our tanks,” asserted James. “It’ll give you forty-five to forty-eight hours of air, just enough time for the skimmer to make it back—barely, but you’ll make it.”

“Please?” said Kathryn as she moved closer to James, taking his arm. “It’s what we want.”

“I-” said Erich.

“Please?” said Kat, cutting him off. “Do it for us. Do it for your family. Maybe you’ll get to see them.”

Erich dipped his head, sorrowfully agreeing. In his heart he knew that Cen-Comm wasn’t going to call—and yet, with each passing second his mind anxiously hoped to hear the crackle of the transmitter.

His movements slowed, buying time as he secured the water canisters and food rations aboard the skimmer. Unable to stall any longer, with great reluctance he tearfully hugged Kathryn and James goodbye and removed the oxygen bottles from their PLSS (primary life support system)—leaving them with only the air remaining in their suits.

As he clipped the buckle of his harness, he watched the two of them walk off and take a seat on the ground, leaning against a chunk of the Noory’s hull. They sat as one, shoulder-to-shoulder, arm in arm.

Over the open comm, he heard James ask Kathryn, “Do you remember the day when we first met, zip-lining in Oahu? I never told you, but the way that harness was squishing your breasts together, wow! And I wasn’t about to tell you what it had done to your thong bikini bottom between your thighs, pushing it all off to the side. I nearly bit my tongue off.”

“You thought that was accidental?” asked Kat.

“It wasn’t?” James said, surprised.

“Displaying the goods tends to increase sales. When will men ever learn that they are the buyer, not the seller?” Kathryn shot back.

Perhaps they are the lucky ones. Erich then set the skimmer’s navigation controls to: Hoagland Central Communications, Autopilot, Maximum Speed.

With little to do, the skimmer jostling along, the barren landscape a cold and lonely reminder of the friends he had left behind—he thought back to earlier that morning. He had risen to an incoming call from his wife; she had been anxious to show him a crayon drawing that his daughter had done for him in school. It was a picture of him in his astronaut suit, standing atop a very tiny moon.

They talked about how in two weeks, he’d be returning home—his wife had flashed him, flirtingly talking about how she was going to ravage him, wearing his favorite negligee. They had said their goodbyes that morning, never suspecting, it might be their last.

After breakfast, the team, as they had done most every day for the last three months, headed out to the Looking Glass archaeological site in the Bay of Rainbows. Their assignment, the excavation of artifacts from a recently discovered chamber inside Tunnel 34, one of the Moon’s spokes of interconnecting tunnels.

However—though it had been less than five hours since he had spoken to his wife, it now felt like a lifetime ago.

He was now alone and the worst part—was the silence.

***

“Sir, we located President Tomlinson’s wife. I just finished speaking with her,” said Brooks as Steven entered the Command Center. “She and her son will be boarding a transport in a few minutes. ETA to Sea Base, a little over three hours. Stealth protocols initiated.”

“Very good. Does Mrs. Tomlinson know about her husband?”

“She does, sir. She was reluctant to leave without an explanation, so I played a portion of the holo-recording for her,” said Brooks.

“Keep monitoring for transmissions from Hoagland Cen-Comm, in case they reconnect,” said Steven, adding, “Did we get the two files?”

“Two? No, sir. We only received one, regarding Project Terminus.”

“You’re sure? Nothing else, no separate briefing file?”

Brooks shook his head. “Sorry, sir.

You also need to know that the United Nations sounded the Planetary Defense System before they went offline. The world knows that something is happening.”

“Seal the base. Full lock-down. Shut down all noncritical power sources. We’re going dark until further notice.”

***

As the skimmer came to the edge of the crater that led down to Hoagland Central Communications and the United Nations Headquarters below, Erich’s heart sank. Having brought the skimmer to a halt, he unbuckled his harness and stepped onto the lunar surface. The scene of devastation was complete. Weakened by despair, he dropped to his knees, feeling hopeless.

Forty-two domes, twenty-seven of which were Sovereign Territories, home and workplace to nearly eight-thousand people lay in ruins. It was an attack that no one could have survived. All of his friends were dead. Hoagland Central Communications, the largest of the domes, was near indistinguishable from the others. The attack was thorough. Nothing was unscathed.

Even the massive landing pad beyond the domes with its huge support columns was but a grotesque, twisted pile of exploded and melted debris. The dozens of transports that typically sat atop it, nothing but rubble.

Erich scanned the horizon and looking upwards into space, stared at Earth. The enemy fleet was gone and the Earth looked as blue, beautiful and alive as ever. His mind was at war with his heart—he desperately wanted to believe that Earth was safe, but his mind couldn’t find any solace or a reason to hope.

He swallowed, his eyes watering as he thought of his wife, his mind envisioning their last conversation and how pretty she would be in her negligee—and when he thought of never seeing his daughter again, tears fell.

His forty hours aboard the skimmer had been for nothing.

He was out of air, there was no miracle—no way to reach his family. He wished he had stayed back with his friends—at least then, he wouldn’t have to die alone.

***

“Sorry, sir. That’s the best we can do on our end, with all the radiation,” said the comm officer to Steven.

The message again started to repeat: “This . . . Erich . . . rling. Can an . . . ne hear me?”

“Can we send a signal back, without it being intercepted?” asked Steven.

“They might be able to intercept it, but I can route the transmission through one of the Antarctic substations, disguising our signal’s point of origin. There’s enough scattered chatter going on round the planet—I believe we’ll probably just blend in as one more cry for help. The station is unmanned, so it won’t put any potential survivors at risk. The radiation is also a bit lower at the poles—better signal.”

“Do it,” said Steven to the comm officer.

A moment later, “Connection open, sir.”

“This is Admiral Sherrah. Please respond.”

“This . . . this is Erich Guerling, I . . . ought I was-” came the ragged, static filled reply.

“Can you boost your signal or try adjusting your antenna,” asked Steven, “your signal is very weak?”

A few seconds passed, then, “Is Earth … is Earth destroyed?” asked Erich.

It was clear that he was crying. Steven looked over at Brooks. “Mr. Guerling … Erich. This is Admiral Sherrah. Your signal is much clearer now. I’m glad to see that there are survivors. We had feared the worst.”

“Are you going to tell him?” asked Brooks.

Steven nodded. “Part of it.” Enabling the comm, “I am sorry—but yes, the ships that attacked you two days ago have also attacked Earth.” Steven saw no need to tell him how bad it really was—that the atmosphere had been seeded with a highly radioactive isotope—painfully, agonizingly, killing everything on the surface of Earth within a matter of hours. His voice softening, “I’m sorry.”

There was a long moment of silence between them.

“It’s really—all gone?” said Erich, more to himself than Steven.

Steven didn’t answer his question. “Erich, are you all right? Are there other survivors?”

“I am—alone.”

Steven took a deep breath. “Will you be able to hold out until we can get to you?”

“I’m out of air. I only lasted this long because my team sacrificed themselves, giving me their air. They had hoped I could get back to my family.”

“I’m sorry, Erich, but the enemy ships are still in orbit.”

The comm operator, interjecting, gave Steven an update. “Admiral, the enemy destroyer is breaking out of orbit. It’s headed toward the moon. They must have picked up his end of the open transmission.”

“What’s their ETA?”

“Nine minutes,” answered the comm operator.

“Erich, the enemy has picked up your signal. They are on their way to you. You have nine minutes,” said Steven.

“Not to worry. My air is gone. I will be joining my family, Admiral. The bastards can’t take that from me.” Erich’s breathing was labored, his suit recycling bad air. “Goodbye Admiral. Avenge us.”

Steven was already seething for the billions of Earth’s dead. He hadn’t slept in almost three days. His mind was filled with the horrifying images of what he witnessed. His jaw tensed. “You have my word—I will.”

Erich disconnected the transmitter and slammed it to the ground, smashing it. Taking a seat on the edge of the crater, he twisted a small dial on his chest plate, venting his air. Looking at Earth—his last thoughts were of his family. “I‘m coming home, Laurie. I’m coming home.”

Chapter 1

(Fifteen Years Later)

The RED ALERT warning burst to life, awakening Steven from a much-needed sleep. His heart was hammering in his chest, his mind fighting to comprehend. It was the first time the alarm had sounded since Enlil’s attack, fifteen years earlier.

“Gena, connect me to the Command Center.” As the computer slowly brought the light up in the room, his eyes followed his wife’s naked form and the graceful sway of her hips as she crossed the room to don a robe. As it slid about her shoulders, he felt blessed to be the owner of such beauty. Like a ghostly apparition, she exited the room, the hem of her robe sweeping along the floor, the image of the womanly figure beneath lingering as she checked on their children.

A chime signaling his waiting connection sounded. “This is Sherrah. What have you got?”

“Sir, we’re receiving an emergency distress call on an old public bandwidth. I apologize for the alarm, but Gena was set to respond to any unusual signal as if it were a threat. We just hadn’t expected the signal to be—home grown.”

“Home grown? What’s the origin?”

“Denver.”

“Denver?” An adrenaline-charged excitement surged into his veins. “Denver.” The word rang with clarity. It was the missing piece to President Tomlinson’s unfinished sentence so long ago. He was sure of it. It had been nagging at him for fifteen years.

A part of him had always been waiting for this moment; he had subconsciously been expecting it. Steven ran the numbers, 11,000 kilometers—2-hour flight time.

“All right—” asserted Steven. “Have Stratton grab Robbie and assemble a full TAC team to meet me in Dome 4, Bay 12 in 30 minutes. Add Victor Gregor to the list. I want a medic on the recon. Tell him to be prepared for full triage.” The smoldering ember that had been awakened in him fifteen years before was now blazing. His heart fluttered in expectation.

***

“ETA, one minute Admiral,” announced Robertson, Steven’s personal pilot.

Standing at the forward window, Steven turned his attention to the crystalline webs that enshrouded Earth’s continents, below. Though the webs were now home to his enemy, he was always in awe of their serene beauty and the Siren-like song that their electrical currents resonated. By day, the sparkling blue-white, swirling glow was like seeing into the mind of God. By night, the webs were an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of pastel colors that captured the heart.

Steven felt the subtle shift of his weight as the Dolphin transport slowed to a stop.

“Groundside temperature is 97 degrees. Radiation is within acceptable limits. With your permission?” asked Robbie.

Steven nodded.

“Initiating resonator.” From the underside of the Dolphin, a hatch door opened, and a small dish turret lowered, swiveling into position. Visually, the air around the dish began to warble and grow cloudy as frenzied water molecules heated-up in reaction to the high frequency tones being emitted by the resonator. The tone was inaudible to the crew, but far below, the canopy of webbing began to dissolve into a shower of delicately falling pixie dust.

The ship’s holo-display zoomed in on the beginnings of a small hole that was growing quickly in size with each passing second. “Launch the beacon, Robbie.”

“Aye, sir. Launching beacon.” With the press of a button on the overhead control panel, the ship’s cannon fired off a small liquid-silver ball. A small laser beam attached to the transport’s underside, painted the ground where the tiny ball would land. With pinpoint accuracy, the nanotech shifted the ball’s shape, adjusting the beacon’s internal gyroscope so it would hit the target far below.

“Victor, be ready. I have a feeling we’re going to need you.”

The doc nodded.

Turning to the team, “All right eggs and sperms. The storm front is less than forty minutes out, so this recon has got to be fast.” Steven’s gaze shifted to each of his team members in turn, waiting for the nod that their armor’s diagnostic system had cleared them for the drop.

As Steven awaited confirmation that the beacon had landed, his chest suddenly seized. He had no chance to react, to assimilate what was happening to him. In the blink-of-an-eye, a soul crushing feeling of longing and loneliness gripped him, incapacitating him.

With each passing second, the surge of longing grew stronger, manifesting itself in each painful, strained beat of his heart.

An emotion he had never known before overtook him. Fear. The immense strength of the man that he was inside, fled from him as he was broken by something beyond his understanding. The fear he felt wrested control from him and like an abstract painting, his mind lost cohesion and focus.

Unable to find even the smallest bit of reality to which he could cling, his anxiety drove him into a pit of darkness—and as the darkness turned its wrath upon him, he fell victim to a full-fledged panic attack.

In a cold sweat and unable to give voice, his legs shaking uncontrollably beneath him, his knees buckled. Instinctively, his hand reached out for the back of Robertson’s chair to stay himself, but the off-balance fall swung him around and slammed him hard into the bulkhead.

With wild, maniacal eyes, he searched for something, anything, of familiarity. The brightly flashing lights on the transport’s control panels caught his attention. Somewhere deep inside he knew they held meaning, but in his panicked state they only added to his confusion as they shouted meaningless gibberish.

Robertson, startled by the sudden tug on his chair and the heavy clang of armor hitting the deck behind him, turned and caught a glimpse of the madness in his Commander’s eyes. “Paris, check on the Admiral! Something’s wrong.”

A small alarm on Steven’s forearm LED began to chirp, alerting him to his irregular vitals.

His vision blurred, his stomach churning queasily as the Dolphin transport faded away. Within seconds, he saw himself lying upon his back, encased within a coffin of glass and ice. He reached out and with a tentative, fearful touch, placed his spread fingers upon the glass. While the thought of being buried alive should have heightened his panic, somehow, it afforded him a tiny glint of understanding. It was as though the walls themselves were a cryptic message waiting to be deciphered.

Elusive as the message was, it gave Steven a small hold to which he could grasp. It gave him strength and with that strength, he began to regain clarity. He sensed a presence stalking him. A presence so powerful that he dared not challenge it. Instinct told him that it was a battle that could not be won—it was all around him, inescapable.

As the presence reached out to him, he was surprised by its passiveness, its feminine gentleness. He felt it shift, as if it too were searching for an avenue of understanding.

“Admiral? What’s wrong?” said Paris. Unclasping the right glove of her armor, she placed her hand on his arm. Vague as it was—the nuanced emotional warmth of the gesture touched him. “Can you hear me?”

The team stood round him, nervously waiting for their Commander and friend to reply.

The heartfelt concern in her voice helped the last vestibules of illusionary reality to evaporate. Though the deeply, emotional longing that had triggered his collapse was still violently stirring within him, he held fast to his newfound understanding. With a deep, inhaling breath and a nod, the team helped him to his feet. His determination stiffened and he straightened his posture. His slumped shoulders regained their commanding stature. “I don’t know what happened.” The words hung in the air, the explanation beyond his grasp to articulate.

Paris, interpreting Steven’s pause as uncertainty, pushed on, “Sir, you’re exhausted. Perhaps you should stay here; let us carry out the recon. We can-”

Steven shook his head, “No! I’m fine!” Though the strength in his voice had returned, the distant look in his eyes spoke of a confidence, which had not.

“Are we ready, Robbie?”

“Yes, sir. The beacon is on the ground and transmitting. You’re good to go. We’re holding steady at six klicks.”

“Thanks Robbie. We’ll call you down when we’re ready for pick-up. Hopefully, before the worst of the storm gets here.” With a soft squeeze of Lieutenant Robertson’s shoulder, Steven let his friend know that he was all right.

Twisting his helmet, locking it into position, he turned to his team and with a small nod, affirmed they were ready to go. With an unsteady arm, Steven reached up and hit the button opening the door for the drop. Strong gusts of dry air swept through the cabin.

Dressed in heavy, glistening black armor, their arsenal of weapons magnetically clamped to their backs, they looked more cyborg than human. Now, standing on the edge of the open door, they stared at the Earth far below, adrenaline beginning to surge.

“I heard about a cadet back at the Academy, that on his first drop, his anti-grav unit failed and they had to use a spatula to scrape him out of his suit,” said Martinez.

“I guess that explains why you’re an asshole today. You landed in a pile of your own bullshit,” jested his best friend, Ensign Cole.

Everyone but Steven was lighthearted, exhilarated. His only thought was to discover the reason for his racing heart. “Lead the way, Stratt.”

Without hesitation, Stratton jumped. In quick, clockwise succession, each team member stepped forward, jumping into the bright light of the mid-afternoon sun. Like an arrow, head down, the team built up speed. They loved the adrenaline rush of dropping and the sound of the wind.

“I swear. Every time we drop, I get the best, damned orgasm,” said Paris, her voice a tad shaky.

“You got your catheter set to vibrate mode again?” said Lieutenant Tomlinson, the President’s now grown, son. Since the attack, Steven had kept the boy close to him, giving him the guidance and nurturing that his father would have wanted.

“It’s the only way to fly. Oh, yeah—there—it—is! Giddy-up baby! Giddy-up!”

The group was whooping it up. Having a great time tumbling and acrobatically spinning, each of them trying to competitively out-do the others maneuvers.

“Hey guys, three o’clock,” said Tomlinson as a massive flash of light caught their attentions.

They stared in silence at the sixty-five thousand foot tall, anvil-topped thunderhead. The super-cell was rolling violently over the Front Range, twelve kilometers away. As the icy-cold air of the storm clashed with the hot air of the High Plains, massive tornados erupted. They tore at the crystalline webbing, shredding it. The storm was weaving a tapestry of death and destruction, bolts of chain lightning scorching everything it touched.

As they were staring, a second massive blast of lightning erupted, creating a phenomenon known as black lightning. The visual effect created what looked like a momentary tear in the fabric of the sky. Seconds later the vibration sensors in their armor spiked as the black lightning’s concussion wave hit them, shaking them. The dance within the thunderhead between dark and light was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Breaking them from their reverie, Stratton brought them back to the mission. “Prepare for crunch time! Passing through the canopy in 5—4—3—2—1.”

With the last four hundred meters closing quickly, the team-rotating upright, they let Gena, their Globally Exhaustive Networking Assistant initiate the landing procedure. At one hundred and eighty meters above the ground, Gena activated the anti-grav units, slowing them. Their suits’ inertia dampeners finished the job, absorbing the last remaining bit of impact.

“Just like giving your girl her first kiss, soft and sweet,” said Tomlinson as he touched down.

Stratton turned, taking stock of the team. Steven landed last. “And that makes eight. Everyone safely down and accounted for, Admiral.” As per safety protocols, Gena had landed them in an octagon pattern around the baseball-sized beacon, which lay splat on the ground.

Reaching back for their artillery, the magnetic auto-lock releasing them upon grasp, the team moved quickly, taking up defensive positions behind the debris and vehicles that littered the street. While the team began scanning for the enemy—against protocol, Steven stood tall, unmoving. His eyes roved from building to building, searching. In the dark depths of shadowed alleyways and broken-out storefront windows, he sensed that the presence was nearby.

“I’ve never seen a cavern like this,” said Stratton.

“None of us have,” said Steven.

“Why aren’t their webs on these buildings?” asked Paris.

No one could give her an answer.

Steven noted that the buildings still held a reflective ambiance of their former selves, though years of quakes, wind and storms had ravaged much of it.

To his left, half hidden in the tall weeds that had grown unfettered over the years sat the remnants of an antique shop. A badly rusted, blue Schwinn bicycle, the rubber from its front tire missing, teetered on the ledge of the windowsill, its squeaky, bent wheel spinning slowly in the breeze.

Looking further down the street, a Dunkin’ Donuts’ sign swayed, reminding him of simpler times, when he and his wife had shared donuts and coffee together as young cadets.

Closing his eyes, he focused himself, blocking out the distractions of his surroundings. Relying solely on the sensations he felt pulling him, his focus became acutely sharp and clear.

Tomlinson studied his scanner, zeroing in on the distress beacon’s location, “Sir, the signal is coming from the-”

“The small, red-brick building on the other side of the square,” said Steven, finishing Tomlinson’s sentence.

“Yeah, but how-” Tomlinson glanced up at Steven. He saw that Steven’s back was to the building, his eyes closed. “How did you know that?”

Slowly lifting his head, Steven opened his eyes. He turned, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the distant building that was wavering like a mirage from the heat radiating off the pavement. Out of all the buildings, it was the only one undamaged. Odd, very odd.

“In case you didn’t know, we’re being watched,” whispered Steven, instinct forcing him to speak softly.

“From where, sir?” said Moore, as he and the rest of the team shifted their weapons from street to street, from building to building, the scopes on their weapons instantly adjusting for varying distances. The city, high above them was like the rest of Earth’s land surface, a maze of webbed tunnels, formed by the spiders the enemy had left behind. All around them, great webbed arches, like bridges, linked the crumbling walls of towering buildings together. The demeanor of the team had stiffened notably, their focus now warrior sharp.

“From everywhere, there are hundreds of them and more are coming—and since you asked Moore, it’s your job to keep an eye on the large, underground tunnel behind us. There’s something big in there and it’s headed this way.” Moore spun round and cranked up his magnification. The scope zoomed into the depths of the tunnel, revealing nothing.

“Sir, how do you know all that? There’s nothing on the movement scanner or any of the other arrays,” said Stratton.

Steven held his fist up, quieting them. He closed his eyes and listened. After a moment, “The web song. The spiders are communicating. They believe we’re trapped.”

“Sir, the web song is just white noise. Gena would have deciphered anything with a pattern to it, years ago,” said Stratton.

Steven’s brow tensed, “Later. We need to hurry. We’re running out of time!” Taking a first and strong step forward, a small puff of dust arising from where his heavy armored boot set down, Steven gave the order, “Let’s roll.

You know the drill. Tomlinson, back up Stratt on point. Cole flank left, Martinez split right. No sudden movements. Let them make the first move, but once they do, light the place up!

Hitch and Paris, you’re with me, front and center,” he said, ordering the two women in the group to stay close to him. “As for you, Moore, you get to admire my ass! And don’t forget to watch the tunnel behind us!” Having gotten the desired, roll-of-the-eyes reaction from the youngest member of the team, Steven threw a wink and a smile at the two women beside him. “Report all movement, and don’t forget to keep an eye on your perimeter sensors.”

***

The team fanned out behind Stratton who had an uncanny ability to notice the tiniest of details, whether it be a false shadow or a distant sound that was out of place. Somehow, he was always able to ignore the buzz of whirring servos and the clanking thuds of the teams’ plated boots hitting the ground.

With guarded caution, the team moved down the street, watchful for movement within the shadows. The eyes of Cole and Martinez darted quickly between the fragmented walls and broken windows. Tall swaying grass and brush lent cover to hundreds of dark, cavernous areas. With their scanners set to detect movement and heat signatures, the team caught fleeting glimpses of spiders scampering deep in the depths.

It was the job of Cole and Martinez to become familiar with their surroundings, making sure the team always had an avenue of escape.

Nearing the building, Steven took note of the scratches and scars that the building had sustained from the spiders’ attack. He had no explanation for why the spiders had not been able to breach it, for they were unstoppable.

On the heavy security door, Steven could just make out the scratched and worn symbol of a double helix. Running his fingers over the logo, a name came to mind. “Gena, do the archives have any information on a company called, The Children of Destiny Foundation?”

“The Children of Destiny Foundation. Raising families is your business, making them is ours! All genetic designs guaranteed in writing. Eighteen-year payment plans available. A proud member of the Downtown Denver Better Business Bureau,” answered Gena. “It appears that they were a genetics catalog ordering outlet for couples who had trouble conceiving. The address matches that of your current location.”

“Gena, where did you get that information from?” inquired Steven.

“Google,” responded Gena.

“I should’ve known.”

“Sir, where did you hear of the Children of Destiny Foundation?” asked Stratton. “I swear. It’s like you suddenly became clairvoyant.”

“I don’t know.” Steven shook his head, his eyes tightening. “There’s something about this building, the door, the logo. I’ve seen them before.”

Just then, the sky lit up brilliantly as another flash of black lightning erupted. A long, intimidating clap of thunder followed it, fifteen seconds later. All of their vibration sensors spiked wildly, “Gena, when did the last supercell pass over this area?”

“Five years and three months ago,” came Gena’s instant reply to Steven’s question.

“So, what are the odds of us receiving a distress signal at the exact same time the storm is arriving?” asked Tomlinson.

“The kid’s got a point,” said Stratton.

“Agreed, but it’s not like we had a choice.” It’s not like I had a choice. “Let’s pick up the pace. We don’t want to be here when the storm hits,” said Steven, hurrying the team.

“I’d like to be home in time for dinner,” said Moore.

As Steven’s hand neared the door’s polished-steel handle, they all heard a loud, audible click. Several of the team’s weapons came to bear on the door. Steven hesitated briefly, waiting to see if the door was going to open. It didn’t. In trying the handle, he found that it turned easily, but still, the door held fast. With a braced stance, he put his weight behind it and rammed his shoulder into it. To a sharp cracking sound, the door opened a tiny bit before it again jammed tight. From the thin slit, a cloud of fog escaped that was quickly devoured by the hot air outside.

“Gena, increase servo assist to 10 percent for 5 seconds.” Recoiling, he rammed the door, hard. The door blasted open, scraping away a thick layer of hardened frost on the floor. I wasn’t expecting that!

Crouching to get through the doorway, Steven stepped inside, a few of the team following him. The entire room was covered in frost—the retina locked light atop his helmet refracting off the ice, forming a thousand prismatic pinpoints of light.

Subconsciously, Steven placed his hand on the wall of ice nearest him. Likewise, in response, he could feel the presence reaching out to him, closer and more powerful than before.

Tomlinson had only taken a few steps before he spotted two frost-covered bodies huddled behind a desk in the far left corner of the room. “Sir, we have two people over here!” Kneeling before them, Tomlinson softly wiped the snow away from the nearest victim’s face, “Sir, it’s a woman—and—she still has her skin, if you want to call it that.” The woman’s head, tipped to the side, rested on the shoulder of the person beside her. Tomlinson then wiped away the frost from the second person. “It’s a man, probably her husband.”

“Two dead people in a freezer,” said Hitch. “That’s not something you see every day.”

Steven’s attention fell upon the ceiling vent, where the frost was thickest. “The ventilation system is piping in the cold air.” He then queried Gena for the room’s temperature.

“External temperature is 24.2 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“I wonder how long they survived,” said Tomlinson.

“Almost five months,” said Stratton, standing just behind Steven on the threshold of the doorway.

“How do you know that?” asked Tomlinson.

Stratton nodded toward the wall on his left. Less than two meters away, hanging on the wall beneath a few centimeters of clear ice was a large digital calendar. “They activated the pause button, marking the date for whoever found them. Bottom-line, they’ve been dead more than fourteen years,” said Stratton.

A guttural, rolling clap of thunder vibrated the ground beneath their feet. The webs sang in response, resonating like a thousand, soft wind chimes.

Steven wondered if the spiders were aware of the danger the storm posed to them, or if they even cared.

Instinctively, the team standing outside moved closer to the doorway, tightening their ranks.

“Stratt—take Moore, Cole, and Martinez outside and maintain an eighty meter perimeter around the doorway. Keep the courtyard clear for Robbie to pick us up later. If the spiders attack, throw the frying pan at them if you need to, but don’t let them close up ranks.”

“Aye, sir. Come on grunts. You heard the man.” The four of them fanned out, taking up defensive positions in the square.

“I don’t understand it, sir,” said Tomlinson. “We’re standing at the precise co-ordinates, yet the readouts say the source of the transmission is still fifty-nine meters away.”

Since the moment Steven entered the room, he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. It was a feeling he had experienced once before when tracking a marauding mountain lion on his parents’ ranch as a teenager in Montana. Without thought, his hand went toward the scar on his left shoulder where the big cat had wounded him long ago. Now, like then, he instinctively held his breath, his heart speeding in expectation of a sudden confrontation. He studied the depths of the room, the ceiling, corners—and that’s when he saw it. In the upper, far right corner of the room, the glass lens of a small, black, frost covered camera was zooming in on him.

Taking a step toward it, the frost crunching beneath his feet, a small, round, yellow, emergency light twinkled to life above him. He glanced upwards at the ice-laden light that was straining to be brighter, but was lacking the power to do so and then back at the camera.

Without warning, the steel security door behind them slammed shut. The loud clang made them all jump, and they spun in reaction. Fanning their guns round the room, they stood at the ready, searching for an unseen intruder. The scanners revealed nothing besides their own team and the two frozen corpses slumped against the wall.

Hitch tried the handle and found that it was locked, the latch to unlock it spinning uselessly. “Why do I suddenly feel like a trapped mouse?”

“Take it easy everyone, no twitchy fingers,” said Steven.

“Admiral, did you close the door?” asked Stratt from outside over his comm.

“No! It closed by itself. Apparently, it’s locked internally. Is everything all right outside?”

“So far,” said Stratt, uncharacteristically sounding a bit on edge.

“Robbie, I’ve got the feeling we are going to be here longer than expected. With the storm closing in, before things get to rough, I want you to pick up Stratton’s team. We can ride it out in here if we need to.”

“Aye, sir. Will do.”

“Sir, you’ll want to see this. The man is holding something. It started to glow just as the door closed,” said Tomlinson.

“Stratt. Watch your back.”

“Aye, sir. We are.”

Tomlinson moved away from the frozen bodies to make room for Steven. Kneeling, Steven swiped the snow away to find that the man was holding an oblong box. Recognizing it as a security box used for transporting precious documents, he pried the man’s frozen fingers away and taking it, set it upon his knee. Its luminous, red security scan latch was lit and waiting to be deactivated.

Without hesitation, Steven disengaged the latch on his armor’s cybernetic, right glove. A tiny wisp of heated air escaped as it clashed with the cold air inside the room. Removing his glove, he set it down on the floor beside him and put his thumb to the boxes thumbprint recognition lock—showing no surprise as it turned from red to green. As the box unlocked, the lid popped up, slightly.

Though Steven never looked up at his team, he could feel their astonishment.

Triggered by the opening of the box, the west wall slid aside, revealing a hidden, ice-covered corridor that led to an elevator and a stairwell door.

“Open sesame,” jested Hitch, as they all watched the shorn snow mistily settle to the floor.

“Keep watch on the hallway, Hitch. Might be a Yeti hiding in there,” teased Steven.

Turning his attention back to the box, his eyes wide with expectation, he slowly lifted the lid. Inside, he found three items. The first, a small, antique NASA patch with a picture of the centuries-old lunar lander, displaying the infamous words spoken long ago by Neil Armstrong. He read it aloud, “One Small Step for Man, One Giant Leap for Mankind.”

Beneath the patch lay a small vial of unlabeled, green liquid, and next to it, a flashcard holo-player. Sensing its importance, Steven gently ran his fingers over it, intuitively caressing it.

Standing, he set the player atop a desk in the center of the room and with an anxious tap, activated it.

In the air above it, a blue shimmering field appeared, and in its center stood a life-size holo of a man in a white smock.

“Hello, Steven.”

Tomlinson voiced the team’s thoughts, “How in the hell is that possible?”

Steven looked at Tomlinson, his own mind unable to supply the answer.

“The only possibility is that they knew the Admiral would be the one coming,” said Stratton, who was watching the video feed through his helmet’s monitor from outside.

“Thanks for explaining the obvious,” said Tomlinson. “Maybe I should make it clearer. How the damn-shit-fucking-hell is that possible? According to you, the message was left fourteen years ago!”

No one moved. They stood transfixed, as the man moved to situate himself on the edge of a desk. Steven saw anguish and sadness etched into the man’s face. It appeared that he was trying hard to hold back tears. He watched the middle-aged man, probably no more than a hundred and seventy years of age, casually remove a handkerchief from his smock’s right pocket and dab his eyes, his forehead. When he was done, he folded it neatly and put it back.

After letting out an audible sigh, “Now that the shock of my welcome is over, let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Tynabo Takamura.” The doctor then bowed his head, humbly giving honor. “Since you are here, I must assume that this facilities energy reserves have become critically low and my security system has been forced to activate the distress beacon.

Over these last months, I’ve often wrestled with the idea of contacting you, but our lack of pertinent outside information might have put you and this facility in danger.

To address your first concern, Steven—yes, the door to this room is now sealed. As for why? The answer is simple. To protect our work. Thus, this facility is now set to self-destruct. Had anyone else tried to force open the box that held this hologram, this facility would now be part of a large mushroom cloud. I should also mention that any attempt to escape will also trigger my security measures.”

His words were punctuated by three short blasts from the facilities alarm and the computer’s announcement, “Facility secured. Self-destruct has been enabled.”

“He sure is a paranoid bastard!” said Hitch.

“Stratt, are you seeing all this?”

“Aye, sir. We’re watching your video feed.”

Tynabo continued, “Steven, you are the only person alive who can disable the security system. To do so, you must see past your confusion and anxiety.

The moment you arrived here, you began a journey—a journey that will end in either your salvation, or your destruction.

Steven—to survive, you must listen to your heart. Let the longing that you feel inside, guide you.

Perhaps this will help you to understand. I wish to share with you the story of Pandora’s Box. It is one of the few Greek stories with a—” the doctor smiled smugly, looking fully like a cat who had caught a mouse, “happy ending.

In Greek mythology, Pandora was a woman created by the gods. At the command of Zeus, each god gave her a seductive gift. The meaning of these gifts is open to varied interpretations, but I base my story upon the most recent find, the Thermopylae texts discovered in 2242, by James Carstairs.

He believed that rather than Pandora being the embodiment of evil as was widely accepted, that instead, Pandora was the embodiment of perfection, goodness and hope.

Physically, the gods endowed her to be supremely feminine, sensually seductive.

They enhanced her mental perfection by stripping her of human frailties, such as greed, vanity and jealousy—replacing it with a spirited, uninhibited boldness.”

Tynabo smiled mischievously.

“She was the Great Goddess, who took the form of a mortal woman. A woman of such great beauty, that when she first appeared to both gods and men, they were seized in wonderment.”

Steven swallowed involuntarily and noticed that he had a lump in his throat.

“According to the texts, when Pandora returns, she will rise from the earth, her hands raised above her head in epiphany, and that she would be the giver of gifts unto men.”

The doctor stopped briefly, seemingly deep in thought. “As for the box itself? It represents both a prison and a salvation.

So, call it what you will, legend, prophecy, fanciful story telling. In the end, the results of seeing fulfillment realized are the same.”

“If he’s saying what I think he is?” said Cole. “He’s got to be fucking kidding.”

Steven’s adrenaline surged. His excitement was uncontainable. The sea of emotions were again welling up inside him. The doctor’s words had inspired a teenage angst that was wresting control from him.

“In the room below, waiting in stasis, your genetically engineered mate, D’na as I fondly call her, awaits you. Her given name is Ashlyn Parker. She is quite literally, in every respect, like Pandora. She is superlatively perfect.” The doctor hesitated, giving Steven a moment for all of it to sink in.

“Damn, they did! They built you your own goddess,” quipped Cole.

Steven swallowed, his mouth was dry, his stomach in knots.

The doctor shifted his weight uncomfortably, “As pertains to you—while your heart may have already led you to this conclusion—yes, you, like Ashlyn—were created here, in this facility. Both of you were created from bits and pieces of the most unique genes that humanity had to offer.”

“Jesus Christ!” said Tomlinson. “You’re a beaker-baby!” Tomlinson’s remark carried the weight of Tynabo’s shocking revelation.

Steven’s knees felt weak, his mind numb.

“Steven, the new sensations you are experiencing are normal and expected. Because of your close proximity to Ashlyn, genetic changes have begun taking place inside you. It is what we call the fugue. Essentially, the fugue is a tool. It is similar to a tuning fork; in so much as it is synchronizing both of your auras—your electrical fields into one.

Understand that together, the two of you are going to become much, much stronger than you are now. In essence, you will be able to feed off the resonant energy field, the life force of the other—but, it goes far beyond a mere doubling of the power from which you can draw your strength. It’s altering you, changing you on a molecular level.

While the quantum physics of our work is extremely complicated—the result of the primary effects are equally, simple.

What all that means is that you have a near limitless potential. It should also be noted that distance has no diminishing effect on this drawing of power. Once connected, you are always connected.”

The doctor’s face grew serious. “You do have an Achilles’ heel, and it’s a big one. Now that your auras have connected, should one of you die, so does the other. It might not be immediate, but it would certainly happen within a matter of weeks.”

Paris, seeing Steven’s trembling hand, “Are you okay, sir?” as she steadied his arm in support.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m suffocating.” Steven frantically unclasped his helmet and dropped it to the floor, where it rocked back and forth, its spotlight swishing up and down on the wall until it stilled. He took a deep breath, the coldness in the air, bracing him for the words to come.

“As for the completion of the fugue, that will occur the moment the two of you have intimate contact. Hence, my happy ending. It is a mandatory step. It is also the only way to preserve your sanity and bring your abilities to fruition. For now, psychologically, the changes are manageable—but I must caution you, if left unchecked, in the weeks ahead, your biological need to join with her will grow far beyond your ability to resist.

Even as we speak, hundreds of neural pathways are opening. Your thought patterns are deepening—and soon, the two of you will be entertaining theories and ideas that mankind has never dreamed of,” said Tynabo.

“That may explain how you understood the web-song. You’re already changing,” said Stratton.

The doctor then added, “You will, and may have already, experienced what we call, bleeding. If so, know that it is a natural part of the fugue. Bleeding can give you glimpses into Ashlyn’s mind, and she into yours. You will begin to learn and understand things that may be foreign to you, but not to Ashlyn and vice-versa.”

Steven now had his explanation for the things he had seen aboard the transport. Tynabo’s words had lifted the weight of his fear from his shoulders.

Tynabo continued, “Within a few weeks though, should you desire times of privacy, you will develop the ability to open and close the door at will.

I must reiterate. Do not try to resist the fugue—to do so means being driven into a pit of desire and despair from which you cannot escape. Moreover, should you try to resist, you would soon lapse into a coma and die.

As for the physical changes, well, you will discover those in the months and years ahead, but in short, they are herculean. The fugue is making you immensely strong, your adrenaline enabling you to perform great feats. Feats that no human would believe possible.

I also gave you the mental capacity to gage such efforts, to control them. You have the wisdom to use your abilities for the betterment of humanity. I will not lecture you. I will only say—be a good King.

Before I send you off on your journey of self-discovery though, I must give you one last order. I know that I am powerless to enforce it, but it is imperative that you understand the strength behind my conviction. It pertains to the vial in the case. It contains a critically needed dampener that must be taken several hours in advance of your first, physical contact with Ashlyn.

The dampener slows the changes taking place inside you. As each change occurs, you become stronger, both physically and mentally. For your protection, you will lose consciousness for hours or even days at a time. That is why you must put yourself under the watch of a doctor for the next eight weeks.”

Victor Gregor, Steven’s friend and requested medic, sitting safely in the transport high above, was watching and listening to every word. “Hear that Steven? Looks like you’re my new guinea pig.”

Tynabo continued, “Be warned, that if for any reason you don’t take the dampener before your first physical contact with Ashlyn, the result will be instant insanity. Then all of our centuries of work here will have been for nothing.

You should know, that Ashlyn took the dampener at the same time she received the K9 extender, on her 24th birthday.

As for you, unfortunately, due to your personal state of affairs, you didn’t receive the dampener when you took the K9 extender. President Tomlinson said he would discuss the situation with you privately, when next he saw you, but of course, then the attack came.

I am truly sorry that things did not work out as smoothly as we had planned for you. I know that Ashlyn’s existence will challenge your loyalty, your heart—but I also trust that you will find a solution. Wisdom is one of the things with which you have been endowed.

When you take the elevator to the room below, you will find thousands of occupied stasis chambers.” The doctor again paused, as emotions overtook him. “Out of them, only Ashlyn still lives. The two of you were the last of our children—as we had finally achieved perfection.

The doctor’s head bowed and it was near a minute before he looked up, his tearful eyes full of conviction. “By our choice, we have terminated the life support of our children—our earlier creations. Compared to you and Ashlyn—they were unimportant. As are my wife and I, now—unimportant.”

“He murdered them?—The bastard murdered them all?” said Paris, stunned.

“I don’t expect you to understand our decision, and neither do I ask for your forgiveness. Perhaps someday, you will understand that our actions were mandatory, without prejudice.

It is imperative that you and Ashlyn survive. It is also why on this day, we will join our children in death. We have spent these last months, reprogramming the computer. The system no longer requires human interaction. Every ounce of this facilities power, reserves and oversight is now devoted to Ashlyn’s preservation, which is also your preservation. It is all we have left to give.

We have completed what we set out to do. Few people can make such a claim.”

Tynabo took a moment to himself, before he again continued, “To conclude, the patch in this box is a symbol, Steven. A symbol of humanity’s need to dream, adapt, and reach for the stars. You are our, “One Small Step for Man, but together, you and Ashlyn are our, One Giant Leap for Mankind.

Lastly, to open the stasis chamber holding Ashlyn, you need merely find it. You are the key. The electrical field your mind is emitting is keyed to open it. You might say that it is, mind over matter.

The security system is set to give you 20 minutes from the conclusion of this recording to find Ashlyn. It is more than sufficient.

Steven, you and Ashlyn are more than my creations, you are my children. To know that you are alive and that you have a glorious future ahead is all that a parent can ask for. The universe is yours my son and I wish you well on your journey.

The game is afoot.”

The doctor smiled and bowed goodbye.

Chapter 2

Steven noted that even as Tynabo began to order the recorder to save file, and turn off, he picked up two pills sitting on the desk beside him.

“What did he mean, the game is afoot?” said Hitch.

“Sherlock Holmes,” said Steven, contemplatively. “It means the clock is ticking.”

Perfectly timed, the facilities computer announced, “Self-destruct countdown has begun. T-minus 20 minutes and counting. A verbal update will be given every 5 minutes.”

“And who is Sherlock Holmes?” said Hitch.

“Screw Sherlock Holmes, what in the hell are you going to tell your wife?” said Moore. “Hi sweetheart, there is someone here I want you to meet. She’s my personal goddess and the doctor ordered me to sleep with her or I’ll die.”

“Dammit, Moore,” said Stratton. “I’m going kick you in the balls so hard that the next time you open your mouth, you’ll be spitting out sperm. Sorry, Admiral. It’s my fault for picking his sorry ass for this mission.”

“It’s okay, Stratt,” said Steven. “He’s just saying aloud what all of us are thinking, but you’re right, it will be a problem. Therefore, I am ordering all of you to keep this quiet. If any one of you whispers a word of this, I’ll have all of you flushed out the nearest air lock, is that clear? And I warn you not to put me to the test.”

Everyone gave a verbal acknowledgment that they understood. Steven’s unusually sharp tone requested it.

“Besides, I’m not quite buying into all of this yet. I had parents. They died in the attack same as all of yours did, but if somehow it is true, I have no memory of it,” said Steven, wondering if he was only trying to convince himself.

Two quick chirps sounded, signaling an urgent incoming message.

“This is Sherrah. Go ahead, Sea Base.”

“Admiral, this is Ensign Aaron Williams at Challenger Deep. Commander Brooks asked me to inform you that we just received an emergency update from our Sirius B satellite. It shows a fleet of eighteen ships gathering in preparation to open a jump gate. The time stamp shows the data is thirty-two days old.”

Out of the frying pan and into the fire!

The team, listening in, all spoke over the open comm, commenting on the shitty timing. Avenger was planet side rather than at battle stations. They all knew that if the invasion fleet arrived now, the last surviving humans on Earth would be defenseless.

“Thank you, for the update, Ensign.

Tell Brooks to do a status check on Project Terminus. Let him know that we are at the signals target location and expect to be headed back shortly.”

“Time till self-destruct is T-minus fifteen minutes,” announced the computer.

Robbie,” said Steven over his comm. “If that door isn’t open in ten minutes, pick up Stratton’s team and clear the area.”

“Aye, sir. Ten minutes,” answered Robertson.

“Tomlinson, Hitch, Paris, wait here. If the countdown gets close, increase your dampeners to maximum. There’s a chance it might be enough to protect you.”

“You might need us down there,” said Hitch.

“It’s safer for you to wait here. Tynabo said it had to be me.”

Not wanting to worry the team, Steven hid the fact that their armor had one major weakness. Its nearly inexhaustible energy core quickly freezes in subzero temperatures, rendering it useless.

Locking his helmet into position, “Stratt, you’re in charge up here.” A clap of thunder shook the small building. “And keep me updated on the storm.”

“Sir, the vial,” reminded Tomlinson.

“He’s right, sir. The doctor killed a lot of people to protect the two of you,” asserted Stratton. “It’s important!”

“Understood, but I can’t afford to risk losing consciousness, not now. Not with the enemy fleet, inbound.

Besides, the doc said that I needed to take it before I had physical contact with Ashlyn.” Just saying her name made his heart race. “If we’re taking him literally, I’ll be fine, long as I don’t touch her. I do appreciate all the love though.”

Steven put his armored glove back on and headed to the elevator. He pushed the button. Nothing happened. To his left was a door, its sign read, “STAIRS.”

All right, we’ll do this the hard way.

Like the entry door, Steven had to ram it hard to free it from the ice. Before him, lay a long flight of ice-covered stairs that disappeared into the darkness. “Gena, switch to night vision.”

With the blast of colder air from the room below, “External temperature is minus 114.2 degrees and falling,” announced Gena into Steven’s comm.

When Stratton heard the number, “That’s cold, Admiral—take it slow on the stairs. They’ll be as slippery as a two-bit hooker on prom night.

God-speed, sir.”

Steven gave his team a thumbs up, before he disappeared down the stairwell.

***

“External temperature is currently minus 187.6 degrees,” came Gena’s announcement just as Steven reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Definitely the wrong time for the elevator to be broken,” thought Steven, shivering. He had counted the stairs. Eight flights of fifteen stairs each. He could only hope that Tynabo had allowed time to overcome any possible chaos.

“Time till self-destruct is T-minus ten minutes,” announced the computer.”

The yellow warning light inside Steven’s helmet began flashing. His energy core was already beginning to fail from the frigid temperatures, not to mention, the armor’s heating unit was drawing power at an alarming rate. He was shivering, unable to stop himself.

The room at the bottom of the stairs was of such immense size, that even the highest setting of night vision could not illuminate the other side. Like something out of a B horror flick, a thick layer of dense fog clung to the ground, and rising up out of the fog, he saw endless rows of frost-laden cryogenic stasis chambers.

“Welcome to the flip-side of r-reality. You’ve just entered the T-twilight Zone,” said Steven, in a good rendition of Rod Serling’s gravelly voice over his open comm. His broken speech had begun to reflect just how cold he really was.

“Make it quick Admiral or you’ll find yourself in that flip-side of reality, permanently,” said Stratton who was listening in from upstairs, “No movement on the spiders yet, but the wind is really kicking up. So we know they’re close.”

Standing three meters away from the nearest chamber, Steven slowly spun, letting the pull he felt point him in the right direction. His fingers were already throbbing with pain, his legs shaking. He focused, trying to block out the loud whooshing noises created by the ruptured coolant lines in the room. The area around him grew quiet, still.

He could feel her. With each throbbing beat of his heart, she was beckoning him to her side. He started forward, moving at a quickening pace through the rows. The darkness was deep and he had nothing to guide him but his heart.

The strength of his yearning and his need to be with Ashlyn carried all the weight and desire of a life-long obsession.

Suddenly, the room lit dimly from end to end. Steven looked around and was surprised to see just how large the room really was. As he had suspected, a series of large quakes that had been shaking everything from Wyoming to Colorado over the last years had at some point, ruptured the cryo’s coolant delivery system. Several plumes of freezing coolant had formed tall stalagmites on the floor, spewing the coolant into the air like miniature volcanoes.

The lights above dimmed and began ebbing, straining valiantly to stay lit. “Warning, stasis chamber power will be exhausted in T-minus three minutes, resulting in cryogenic stasis chamber failure. Initiate manual emergency resuscitation procedures immediately,” boomed the computer voice as the lights above him flickered, fighting to stay on.

“Admiral, though you were supposed to have about eight minutes left, I suspect our presence has put a strain on the system, and the computer doesn’t have the reserves,” said Stratton. “I’d be willing to bet that if her chamber fails, the computer will believe she’s dead and drop the timer to zero.”

“Agreed-d,” said Steven.

“Maybe it won’t have the power to complete the self-destruct sequence,” said the typically quiet Cole from outside.

“Possibly, but we have to assume the good doctor made that his highest priority. He’s a cautious son-of-a-bitch,” said Stratton.

“Stratt, you s-should get the t-team ab-board the transport. I can’t g-get Ashlyn upstairs b-before the storm arrives.”

“Is that an order? Otherwise, we want to stay, sir. You’ll need the armed support. If the door opens and we’re not here, the spiders will get inside!”

Again, Stratton’s reply did not register—or the voiced opinions of the rest of the team, who were in agreement.

Tromping through the fluffy, knee-deep snow, Steven worked his way up the stairs of a large, circular platform. It was a monitoring station, five meters above the floor in the center of the room.

“Cryo chamber shut-down will commence in 1 minute.”

Atop the platform, the snow nearly as deep as the consoles were high, he saw that the room separated into four distinct sectors.

He picked out the workstation that was facing Ashlyn and quickly began swiping away the snow atop it. As the computer counted down the few remaining seconds, his eyes were drawn to the only button that wasn’t glowing, red. Red is for dead!

Above the flashing, yellow button were the words, Initiate Resuscitation. Flipping back the cover, he pushed the button. It instantly changed to green, the digital display message now showing a slowly, rising temperature readout.

As Steven had expected, the waking procedure also shut down the need for the cryo coolant to be pumped into the room. The room grew quiet and still—all he could hear was his own heavy breathing.

“Cryo chamber resuscitation initiated,” announced the computer.

Overhearing the computer’s confirmation, “Glad to hear you’re making progress, Admiral,” said Stratt. “By the way, it’s a bit crazy up here!”

“The storm, S-stratt?” asked Steven.

“The worst of the storm is still a few minutes out yet, but the spiders are here! They’re probing our defenses. I’ve never seen them this methodical.”

“Tell Victor to g-get r-ready, Stratt. W-when the d-door opens, have Victor g-get s-setup in the r-r-room upstairs. Have him bring a c-cardio unit, b-blankets, and s-some replacement en-energy c-cores.” Steven knew that Victor was listening in, but he didn’t have the time to engage him in a direct conversation.

“We’ll try. It’s starting to become a serious fight,” said Stratton. A rocket explosion up the street peppered his words.

“Have the t-transporter lower V-victor d-d-down in the s-sling if you n-need to! Just g-get it done,” ordered Steven.

“Time till self-destruct is T-minus 5 minutes,” announced the computer.

It was then that the red warning light inside Steven’s helmet winked out. His energy core was failing—his suit in its final seconds of reserves. “Gena, t-turn off all of m-m-my suit’s s-systems except h-heating and external flood.”

With his suit’s electro-magnet off, Steven’s heavy rifle fell to the ground, the sound of its impact muffled by the deep snow. He now bore the full 160-pound weight of his suit and he fought the urge to rip it off and discard it. Each movement was cumbersome, slow and deliberate. At the top of the platform’s stairs, he placed each gloved hand upon a bannister and lifting his feet from the ground, slid to the main floor. Rising from his knees, he felt the pull to Ashlyn growing louder, clearer—and it told him that she was waking.

***

Upstairs, Cole and Martinez were fighting an all-out war. Flamethrowers were sending out long streams of liquid plasma, incinerating scores of pony sized spiders. Everything was alive with energy, with life, with noise. It was a war that raged amidst a background of tranquil, crystalline beauty—a battle being waged from within the courtyard of the Emerald City.

Outside, just beyond the cavern of crystalline webs, the violent winds of the storm front were beginning to arrive, bringing with it turbid clouds filled with rumbling thunder and lightning. Mercilessly, the lightning lanced through the darkness, striking the webbing. The webs now sang a different song, a song of war, a song of foreboding. It resonated in the heart like the beats of a kettledrum, and from somewhere in the far distance, behind it all, the winds howled through the web-strings like that of a lone, ghostly wolf.

As for the webs themselves, they mirrored the light of the plasma-flames in a million faceted reflections, turning night into day. The spiders, invigorated by the sound and charred smell of their own roasting brethren were pouring in. It was a battle to which every spider within twenty kilometers was invited.

Stratt and Moore acted as spotters, occasionally firing a rocket into the heart of an approaching swarm. They tried to use the missiles sparingly for fear they would shatter too much of the webs heavy foundation and bring the cavernous structure crashing down upon them.

Everything within a hundred meters was in flames. At first, the spiders had simply tested the perimeter defenses, but now, their numbers were huge. They blackened the buildings and webbing, advancing rapidly on all fronts. The noise they made was deafening; a cacophonous, clacking, squealing sound that grated upon the nerves.

The flamethrowers were scorching hundreds of spiders. They crackled and sizzled, many bouncing on the ground like giant kernels of popping corn as their abdomens burst.

The spiders had arrived fifteen years ago, days after the original attack. Earth’s surface was but a graveyard of dead when the enemy carrier ships released hundreds of thousands of spiders on each continent. They were amazing scavengers, and once the easy food was gone, they began ferreting out the few remaining survivors who had managed to find shelter below ground.

Within three months, their human food source exhausted—they grew bolder and more aggressive. Recon missions had observed battles taking place between warring factions of spiders, the flesh of their own dead going to the winner. The spiders adapted, learning that the larger the hunting pack, the more likely the success of victory against smaller numbers. The strategy—very human.

Today, Stratton’s team was witnessing a new, tactical stratagem, the ability to attack in thickly churning, rolling waves. The spiders were working together, turning their armor plating outwards, shielding those beneath. As the ones on the front line died, those behind crawled to the surface, providing new layers of fresh armor.

“Welcome to Hotel Hell little buggies,” said Martinez, as his flamethrower sent out a long stream of fiery plasma in their advancing path.

***

In stark contrast to the inferno raging aboveground, the world in which Steven moved was one of frozen, torturous pain. His suit was out of power, a light layer of ice forming atop it beginning to hinder his movement. He had no heat, no air. Each breath was a last desperate gasp for life as blood vessels in his oxygen-starved lungs burst.

As his heart guided him to her, he fell, first once, then twice, each fall taking him longer to rise. His arms and legs were little more than lifeless mechanical stumps.

In the background, the facilities computer announced, “Self-destruct will occur in T-minus 1 minute.” The computer began verbally counting down the final seconds.

The light on his helmet dimmed, then turned off, but he took comfort in knowing that he was near her. In near total darkness, he bumped into a chamber, worked his way around it and continued. Stumbling the last few steps, Steven collapsed atop the chamber that he sensed held Ashlyn inside. Three seconds later, a small beep from her chamber acknowledged his arrival. Relieved, knowing he had nothing more to do, he waited for the chamber to open.

Each passing second seemed an eternity. His mind was locked within a fog that kept him from giving thought as to how he would escape. His heart was barely pumping. Each slowing beat drummed in his ears, a distant and unforgiving reminder that his life was ebbing away.

He straightened, trying to take his weight off the chamber as he heard the clicks of the latch trying to unlock itself. A moment later, the latch recycled and tried again. Something was wrong, the latch wasn’t releasing.

The dim lights in the ceiling died out, pitching the room into darkness. From deep within the bowels of that darkness, his chest seized, unable to expand. He was out of air. It was with eyes that were losing their clarity that he realized his mistake. A small fleeting twinge of panic flashed before him. His last thoughts were of a small, white, flashing button on the panel beside him.

His world grew silent. There were no more gasps for air, no more struggling for survival. As death lay claim to him, his connection with Ashlyn left him. He had no thoughts of his wife, children, nor of hope or despair. No flashing reminiscences of his prior life. There was simply, nothing.

“20—19,” announced the computer.

Even as his heart was near to taking its last beat, to his unhearing ears, a shrieking alarm from the chamber sounded, echoing throughout the large room.

“13—12—11.”

From some distant, unfathomably faraway place within his subconscious mind, he heard Ashlyn scream. Though he was unable to feel his body and his eyelids were frozen open, her scream was like a final, rallying battle cry. With a gut driven force of will, he gathered the last ounce of his strength and banged his useless stump of a frozen hand on the flashing white button. “0.”

***

“Robbie, lower the doc down. The Admiral got the door open,” yelled Stratton over the noise. He saw that Cole and Martinez were getting into trouble and he stepped up, offering support. “Hitch, Paris, Tomlinson! The door is open. Get your butts out here and help.” When there was no reply, “Moore, when the doc arrives get him set-up inside.”

Robertson began to descend. The wind shook the transport violently. Two bolts of lightning struck its topside in quick succession. “It’s like riding a damn brahma bull.”

“There’s no way I’m getting into the sling!” said Victor.

“Hanson, if he doesn’t get into the sling—throw him out the door without it! That’s an order,” said Robbie, yelling over the din of noise to his co-pilot. “I’m not leaving without the team.”

“You heard the man!” said Hanson. Rising from his seat to enforce the words, “Get into the sling or jump—either way, you’re going.”

Victor, slowly getting into the sling, looked like a scared kitten. Hanson latched Victor up, and pivoted the sling outside the door.

Almost instantly, the transport was buffeted by a wind shear, plummeting it thirty meters. Hanson, had he not been secured by a tether, would have been tossed from the transport. As it was, he barely managed to clamber back inside before the transport bounded left, almost pinning him against the crystalline shroud through which it was descending. The ship’s dampeners were maxed, but they had little effect against the violent wind shears of the approaching tornado.

Seconds later, explosions and flames all around them, “That’s as low as I can safely take the transport,” shouted Robbie to Hanson.

“Sorry doc, you’re on your own the rest of the way,” said Hanson as he began to lower the sling down. Victor was strapped in and lying flat. The ride was wild. The sling began to swing violently back and forth. The wind was lifting it, dropping it. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” was all Victor could say.

He could hear the explosions below. He could feel the heat and then just as suddenly a blast of freezing cold air, driven by the storm. He wasn’t trained for combat. Moreover, he was a timid man and without his even noticing it, he began to pee.

Stratt yelled to his team. “The doc’s coming. Push the spiders back, clear a spot for him.”

Cole and Moore started moving forwards, pushing the advancing line of spiders back.

“Robbie, twenty meters more,” said Stratt. “You’re right on target.”

Without warning, the transport lurched, falling another ten meters. The steel cord holding the sling snapped from the jolt, dropping the sling the last four meters.

As Stratton rushed toward Victor, he saw that the docs eyes were closed tight, his jaw clenched. “It’s over doc. You’re down. Now help me get the equipment inside.” Never had Victor moved so fast, as when he was unstrapped from the sling.

Within seconds, Stratton and Victor had grabbed the equipment and were making a run for the door. “Doc, we lost contact with the Admiral four or five minutes ago. I heard him order Gena to turn his comm, off. For right now, we’ll assume they are on their way up. Get your equipment setup inside and if you see the team, tell them to report to me. We’ll hold the line as long as we can.

The battle scene was like a glimpse into the bowels of hell. Walls seven meters in height, made from thousands of spider carcasses encircled the perimeter and yet the assault upon them was gaining intensity. The wall was encroaching upon them, growing ever closer with each new layer of dead spiders. The survivors were scrambling in every direction, trying to wipe the sticky plasma off their charring bodies.

Stratton saw that high above, the spiders were spinning new web strings, closing the window the resonator had created—racing to trap the transport inside. “Follow your butt’s guys, we need to go inside and regroup with the Admiral.”

As the three men slowly backed up, “Hey Martinez, did you know that those ugly sons-of-bitches see sixteen of us?” said Cole.

“Hey Cole, did you know that their noses are in their feet?” Martinez responded in kind.

Above the clamor, something captured Stratton’s attention. He could feel a soft vibration rhythmically beating the ground. Recalling Steven’s warning about the tunnel, “Both of you make a run for the door! That’s an order!”

When Cole turned, “They are circling round behind us,” he shouted as he sprayed plasma high on the wall of the redbrick building.

On the front line, as if it were chasing them, a large sphere of spiders came rolling down the mountainous wall of dead remains.

“What the fuck!” shouted Martinez.

Together, Cole and Martinez lit it up. The sphere burst apart, scattering the spiders in every direction. Gathering themselves, the spiders turned in perfect unison and rushed at the men.

Both men scoured the area before them with plasma, setting hundreds of spiders on fire. Like his team, Stratton, who had witnessed the new strategy, was speechless.

High above, a lightning bolt struck the ascending Dolphin transport. The transport jerked, moving to the right and hitting a portion of the newly rebuilt crystalline ceiling, shattering it. Stratton watched Robbie fighting against the wind trying to regain control. “Damn they work fast,” said Stratton softly. The spiders had nearly managed to close the hole, until Robbie punched the vertical thrusters hard, crashing through it.

The air resonated with crackling, sizzling noises of electrical energy, ionizing it. A bolt of lightning snuck through the hole in the webbing, striking one of the already burning, abandoned cars on the street.

Though fire resistant, even the street was now beginning to burn under the sustained onslaught.

Two more spheres of spiders came rolling at them from the left—the two flamethrowers lit them up. The shrill screams of the frying spiders echoed, challenging their sense of reality. “This is crazy! Their attack is organized!” yelled Martinez.

Though their cooling systems were maxed, beads of sweat were running down the faces of both men. Their anxiety grew as they gave ground.

“Four o-clock,” shouted Stratton, as he simultaneously noticed that the drumming vibration was getting louder.

The two men turned. Behind them, four more spheres were rolling toward them. “My tanks are down to 12 percent,” said Cole as he sent a narrow stream into the heart of another ball.

Behind them, Stratton spotted the horror of which Steven had spoken. It was coming up, out of the tunnel, “Dammit you two, get inside now,” shouted Stratton. “That’s an order!”

Martinez turned and began to run. Cole backed up slowly, laying down cover fire. Though each ball was in flames, they kept rolling toward him, growing smaller as they discarded the bodies of those in the fried outer layer.

Three of the flaming spiders broke free and came charging at him. “All right, you want a piece of me, come and get it.” The first spider launched itself through the air, but with the battle armor’s heightened strength, a good backhand with his right fist sent it flying back into the wall of flames.

The next landed at his feet, where it lunged, rocking back and forth trying to bite him. A good kick sent it sprawling against the far wall of the cavern. The other landed atop his chest, its face staring straight into his faceplate, its fangs scissoring near his neck. “Damn, I almost forgot how much I hate you ugly bastards.” Grabbing it by the head, he tore it from its body.

Such was the battle, he never noticed the ground shaking, vibrating heavily beneath his feet.

Having reached the door, Martinez spun round. Standing beside Stratton, they were awestruck.

“Cole, get—get back here now!” yelled Martinez.

“I’m coming.” At that moment, a fourth spider jumped through an open gap in the flames and wrapped itself around Cole’s legs. Though Cole wore the regulation armor that could take a tank blast at fifty meters and still leave its wearer no worse-for-the-wear, this spider seemed to understand the armor’s weakness. Its fangs bit deep, between the layered plates into a virtually invisible seam just behind the knee. Cole screamed out in pain as the spider’s bite sent virus-laden enzymes into his bloodstream.

Even as he sent the spider sprawling, hitting it with the butt of his flamethrower and then finishing it off with a stream of plasma, the blood vessels in his eyes had already begun to grow and extend.

He had never personally witnessed the rage, but he had heard about it from others who had. His mind raced, trying to separate fact from fiction, fear from hope—he realized just how little he knew. However, there was one inescapable fact—the rage was always fatal.

The spot where the spider had bitten him was already growing numb, unresponsive.

Before him, coming at him from all directions were twenty or more spiders. With a quick glance at Stratton and Martinez who were standing in the doorway, his situation became instantly worse. They were staring wide-mouthed at something high above him.

Looking up, Cole slowly hobbled round to see a spider more than twenty meters tall. It was like the others in appearance, just ten times bigger. He staggered back a step, half in shock from the sheer size of the thing and half because of the painful venom in his right leg. “Gena, all systems to maximum,” he managed to say, just as the spider flipped him high into the air with a swipe of its front leg. Though his inertia dampener was at maximum, he landed hard against the glowing crystalline wall of webs, where he then fell to the ground, far below. The spiders around him skittered away, making room for their queen.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he rolled over onto his back. Looking up, he saw that the spider was already atop him. It reared back on its hind legs and as if it were already declaring victory, let out a long roaring shriek that was deafening. Weakened portions of the crystalline cavern fell, unable to withstand the percussive noise.

Lunging, the spider grasped him between its fangs, tossing him into the air. It just as quickly caught him, almost as though it were playing with him. Even with the armor’s dampening field, the pressure the spider was exerting, registered over 630 kilos per square inch. Though he could barely breathe, he began attacking the rock-hard fangs, throwing an endless flurry of heavy servo-assisted punches. Slowly, the fangs began to show signs of cracking, fracturing.

Martinez, helpless to assist Cole without endangering him further, stood in the doorway, incinerating all periphery spiders until his tank sputtered and the flame died.

Beginning to feel the damage of Cole’s blows, the spider spewed venom all over Cole, hoping to immobilize him.

“I’m not dead yet you bitch!

Gena, fire turrets!” Instantly, a pair of small shoulder turrets unfurled and unloaded sixty-four hundred rounds of armor piercing, explosive tipped, micro-needles. The spider shrieked as the needles tore through its internal organs, blowing large exit holes out its backside.

The west end of the cavern blew outwards as hundreds of unobstructed micro-needles exited the shredding spider and struck the webbing beyond, opening a large hole.

The spiders who had been advancing on the web, along with thousands of shattered crystalline shards were sucked up, swept away by the monstrous tornado that was bearing down on them. The display of raw energy within the tornado dwarfed the largest of Kansas twisters.

Thrashing violently in the throes of death, the spider dropped Cole from its grasp. It tottered precariously above him, staggered and then collapsed to the ground. With a few lingering twitches, it released a last exhale of breath.

Throngs of spiders watching the battle were stilled, seemingly shocked by what they had witnessed. As the death of their mother and queen settled in, a feeling of vengeance seemed to permeate the air.

Behind Cole, the cavern’s already weakened structure began to disintegrate as chunks were ripped away by the charcoal-brown tornado. The noise was deafening and even as the world the spiders had built was disappearing around them, their attentions remained solely focused on Cole. He lay on the ground before them, unable to escape. As one, they moved with lightning speed, swarming over him.

With a final glance at Stratton, Cole’s blood red eyes and a nod, told Stratton what he had to do.

Cole screamed, not the scream of a man in pain, but the gutsy scream of a man that was refusing to die easily.

Pulling Martinez inside, Stratton grabbed the door and slammed it shut, pinching the armored leg of a spider that had almost managed to make it inside. The leg shook wildly and then went limp. The spider had bitten it off, freeing itself.

In direct contrast to the cacophony of noises outside, with the doors closure everything went eerily silent, leaving them with only the sound of their own breathing.

“Cole’s still out there,” shouted Martinez as he reached for the handle of the door.

Shoving Martinez hard into the wall, “No, he’s not, he’s dead!” Their eyes locked, the faceplates of their helmets pressed together. “He was bitten! He has the rage. He’s not human anymore!” The image branded into Stratton’s mind was terrifying. He hadn’t seen Cole get bitten and it had taken him a moment to accept that what he saw was real. Cole was a close friend and the look in his eyes conveyed a flood of emotions. In a single glance, Cole had asked for compassion, for understanding, and yet, it was one of compulsion, of hunger. A look of rage.

The whites of Cole’s eyes were a solid mass of red corpuscles, his face a roadmap of veins that pulsed on the surface of his skin. His bared teeth were drenched in the blood of his own bleeding gums.

A single drop of spider venom stole much more than its victim’s life. It stole their humanity, their ability to think and reason. In the days that led up to their death, the victim had nothing more than a hungering for flesh and blood.

Martinez, tears filling his eyes, spun out of Stratton’s grip and walked into the far corner of the room where he fell to his knees.

***

“Gena, detonate my energy core!” said Cole. The words were inhuman, gnarled into something barely recognizable. There was no mistake but that Cole had spoken them. It was Cole’s last gift to them.

The team then heard Gena’s reply. “Voice print not recognized.”

“Why is he trying to blow us all up?” asked Martinez.

“He isn’t. He’s trying to save us,” said Stratton. “He just isn’t thinking clearly.”

The next sounds they heard were nothing more than growls, inhuman screams that sent shivers down their spine.

“Gena, disconnect Cole from the team’s comm feed,” ordered Stratton, silencing Cole’s garbled screams. “All right everyone. We need to regroup!

Martinez, Moore, we need to find the Admiral. I don’t know why Paris, Tomlinson and Hitch aren’t here, but they must have gone to look for him.

Moore, grab the bag of replacement energy cores.

Doc, get ready. I think you’re going to have a few patients.”

They found Tomlinson, holding Paris in his arms, both of them collapsed on the third landing down, barely alive. The footprints on the stairs implied that they had been on their way up when they’d lost power. Their breaths were shallow, their faces white and showing signs of frostbite.

“Replace their energy cores. It’ll give them heat and oxygen while we keep searching for Hitch and the Admiral.”

Hitch, they found at the mid-point of the sixth flight of stairs, not breathing.

After replacing Hitch’s core, “Get her and the others upstairs to the doc, I’ll go look for Steven,” said Stratton. “If I need help, I’ll call,” Grabbing the last spare core from Moore he continued down the stairs.

Stepping out upon the main floor, he found the room’s large size to be daunting, its darkness impenetrable. He dared not walk far from the stairs, for fear of losing his bearings. Four minutes later Stratton was forced to replace his own frozen energy core with the spare he had brought along. Getting no reply to his calls, he grew resolute to what the silence inferred. “Dammit Steven, where the hell are you!”

As his replacement core began to grow low on power, he reluctantly turned round to leave. Though Steven had the physical size and strength of Paul Bunyan and the determination of a Rottweiler, Stratton knew for a certainty that his friend was dead. The temperature was unbearably cold. Given the condition of the ruptured coolant lines, it had been an impossible task.

The trek back up the stairs was arduous and his heavy heart made it feel longer than it was. It would be his responsibility to tell Steven’s wife and children what had happened. His heart broke for them.

Entering the room upstairs, Stratton found the team hard at work on Hitch. Martinez had removed her armor and torn her cotton undergarment open down the middle. Victor punched a long needle into her heart. A moment later, Victor called, “Clear!” Placing the paddles atop her bare chest, he shocked her heart. “Come-on, don’t you quit on me, Hitch. Don’t quit!”

Stratton set his helmet down on the floor as the others had done, giving the doctor light. Stratton then said three quick prayers, one for Cole, one for Hitch and one for Steven.

Even as the fourth jolt of electricity raced through Hitch, Stratton looked round the room at the team. Paris was sitting next to Tomlinson and they were holding hands. They met Stratton’s gaze and gave him a small nod, a silent thank you for rescuing them. In their eyes, Stratton saw the sorrow they felt over the loss of their friend and Commander.

“Dammit Hitch, come-on!” A brief second after the fifth snap of the paddles sounded, they all heard a small beep. “We got her—for the moment anyway. We need to get her back to Sea Base, Stratt. She needs the regenerator,” said Victor.

“I’m afraid we aren’t going anywhere, doc. The storm is on top of us,” reminded Stratton. “Robbie can’t bring the Dolphin down in these conditions.”

“Without Sea Base’s regenerator, she doesn’t have very long. Her vitals are barely registering. It’s going to be hard enough just keeping her alive on the ride home,” said Victor.

Stratton threw a glance at the others in the room, his mind trying to find a solution. Maybe Cole was right!

“Robbie, you still in the area?” said Stratton.

“I’m still here!”

“Get ready to pick us up!”

“Apologies, sir, but there’s no way I can land in this! Wind speed is 310 knots. Transports aren’t built for that kind of turbulence. Not to mention that last I saw, there was a swarm of spiders all over you guys.”

“There won’t be any wind—or spiders! I’m going to detonate Cole’s energy core. Get clear of the blast area. Return the first moment you deem it’s safe to pick us up.”

“The core will blow our asses into a million pieces,” said Martinez.

Ignoring Martinez, Stratton ran his fingers over the heavy security door. He remembered the scratches of the spiders’ assault upon the door, the building. It had barely been marred. Retrieving the scanner out of Tomlinson’s pack, he scanned the building’s material composition.

Similar to their armor, the door and walls were composed from the same variety of rare metals; however, it also had 12 percent of a foreign, unknown compound. Whatever the ingredient was, he knew it was the reason why the spiders had not been able to breach the building. Moreover, after seeing the depth to which Tynabo had gone to protect his work, it didn’t surprise him.

“Transport clear,” said Robbie.

“Doc, get Hitch suited and prepped to move. We’re taking her home!”

“As a ghost. We’re all going to be vaporized,” said Martinez.

“This isn’t a college debating class, Martinez. I’m the ranking officer. So stow it! At the very least, we’ll take all the creepy-crawlies with us.

Everyone get your helmets on. Take cover in the corners. When it’s over, help the doc move Hitch to the transport. Martinez, increase the size of your dampening field to cover the doc. Shield him with your armor.” Victor was the only one in the group who wasn’t wearing armor.

The team took cover in the corners of the room as Stratton had suggested. Verifying that they were ready, Stratton then gave Gena the command code to overload the core in Cole’s armor.

Outside the building, above the boisterous rumbles of the storm and the clacking of the spiders, the shrill shriek of Cole’s overloading fusion reactor began to grow louder.

Inside, they waited anxiously; knowing what was coming, but not sure of their own outcome.

Suddenly, the silence in the room was broken by the sound of a sheet of paper being slowly, ripped. Their gaze was drawn to the hallway entry, where they saw Ashlyn—Steven draped atop her back. She was fully nude, her skin glistening white from a layer of light frost.

Seeing her standing there, Stratt recalled Dr. Takamura’s prophetic words about Pandora. “It is said that when she returns, she would rise from the earth, her hands raised above her head in epiphany, and that she would be the giver of gifts unto men.”

It wasn’t until Ashlyn took another step forward and they again heard the sound of ripping paper that they understood the source of the noise. In the hallway behind her, lay a trail of bloodied footprints—in each, clumps of her own pulpy flesh were frozen to the ice. She had made the trek, knowing that with each step, she would have to endure the pain of pulling her foot free, ripping away ever-deeper layers of flesh and muscle tissue.

So incredulous was the sight of Ashlyn with Steven upon her back that it was hard to accept it as reality, and for a scant few seconds it kept them from moving to help her. Seeing Ashlyn carrying Steven at the top of the stairs would be something they would never forget.

As Ashlyn bent to set Steven down, her strength failed her. Stratt, who had risen first, arrived just as Ashlyn collapsed unconscious to the floor—Tomlinson right behind him.

At that same moment, thirty-five meters up the street, Cole’s fusion reactor exploded.

Forty klicks out, hovering high in the atmosphere, Robbie watched the blast. Everything within two kilometers, vaporized instantly. Beyond that, millions of projectiles created by the blast shredded even distant buildings on the outskirts of Denver. The once bustling city was now and forever, gone. What little was left, crumbled before the eight hundred kilometer per hour blast wave.

Robbie watched in awe, as a mushroom-cloud rose into the stratosphere. Starving trails of fire chased the fleeing oxygen, clinging vainly to a last breath of life.

As Stratton had assumed, the blast blew the tornado and the storm front apart, ripping the heart out of it.

To the team, even through the sound dampening walls, it sounded like the world was ending. The roar from the blast was ear shattering.

The building shook violently. The ceiling panels and overhead lights fell. The cabinets, chairs and desks in the room turned into volatile projectiles, bounding off the walls and into each other. Everything shattered.

Paris watched as a heavy desk was thrown across the room, where it slammed into the two frozen bodies of Tynabo and his wife. Their frozen bodies exploded into hundreds of tiny pieces.

Huddled in a corner, Paris’ eyes went wide as a shattered hand with only a single, extended middle finger landed inches from her. Inside, she chuckled, wondering if the gods were trying to tell her, “Your’e screwed!” But her quirky smile was quickly quelled as half an eyeball and a frozen piece of jawbone with teeth fell beside it—making her want to retch.

The same splintering desk then rebounded, slamming itself into Moore, breaking his hip.

“Fuck me!” Moore screamed, as much at himself as it was a reaction to the pain, for he had forgotten to turn on his suit’s dampening field. Paris reached out to help, but missed as Moore flailed away from her. Trying a second time, she grabbed his outstretched hand, pulling him into the corner with her. With the ferocious tug, Moore again screamed out as his wrist snapped.

Stratton, thrown against the far wall, landed on his back, face up. With the ceiling panels gone, the light from his helmet settled upon a heavy, solid-metal girder swaying precariously above Ashlyn, its weld joint broken. In the blink of an eye, with his suit’s servo assist, he launched himself through the air. In one quick motion, he grasped Ashlyn round the waist as he flew over her, carrying her like a limp rag-doll into the far corner. The jagged steel point of the beam came crashing down, spearing the just vacated flooring where Ashlyn had been lying. Stratton ordered Gena to enlarge the circumference of his suit’s dampening field, encapsulating her, his body shielding her.

Tomlinson had gone to Steven, encapsulating him within his own shield, protectively covering him.

It was near another minute before the worst of the shaking began to subside. The room was a snow covered, littered battlefield.

Martinez and Victor, extricating themselves from beneath a heavy pile of snow that had found its way into their corner, were the first to move. Victor may have been a fearful man, but he was also a damned good doctor. Retrieving a heated, thermal blanket from his duffle bag of supplies, he brought it to Ashlyn and spread it on the icy ground. Stratton then gently laid her atop it, and folded it over her. While scanning her vitals, “Martinez, Moore, get Steven’s suit off. Get him ready for the paddles; I’ll be there in a sec.”

“No can-do, doc. My hip is broken,” groaned Moore. Adding, “Not to mention my wrist,” as he shot Paris a disgruntled scowl.

“Don’t scowl at me, rookie. That was your own damned fault. I’ll help Martinez, doc,” Paris offered.

Victor gave no reply as he continued analyzing Ashlyn’s data, “Why she’s still alive, I have no idea. I’ve never seen such vast amounts of cellular and internal organ damage in a living person. Her core body temperature is way below the minimum threshold. She should be dead. I guess, for now, just keep her warm until I’m done with Steven.”

Victor then joined the others who were prepping Steven.

Stratton held Ashlyn in his arms, protectively coddling her—trying to keep the blanket tight around her. He had noted the missing patches of flesh from her exposed shins, elbows, arms and hands. The flayed skin made it painfully obvious that she had fallen several times on her way up.

It was easy to see that her face and body were perfection personified, her waist length, black hair neatly tied into a ponytail that lay about her neck. Just beneath it, the glint off her silver locket, attached to a necklace caught Stratton’s attention. Its center blue-gem had begun to glow, emanating with flowing, swirling energy.

The team worked quickly to get Steven prepped. Victor in trying to get Steven’s heart started, ran a quick scan and was saddened to learn, there was no brain activity. Reaching into his med kit, he pulled out a little black box. Placing it on Steven’s chest, he pushed the green button. Three spindly, little legs came out and dove into Steven’s chest. A moment later, a little blip appeared on the monitor.

“What is that, doc? Did you get his heart started?” said Paris, excitedly hopeful that Victor had saved him.

Victor shook his head. “It’ll just give his family a chance to say goodbye. He has no brain activity.”

“Victor, does that mean that-” asked Stratton, looking down at Ashlyn.

“If what Tynabo said is true—I guess so,” Victor nodded. “But we’ll do what we can. Maybe my team can find a way to save her.”

Ashlyn was now one of them. Their reverence for her struggle to save one of their own, had ingratiated them to her—and for what it was worth, every person in the room would now and forever, be willing to lay down their own life to protect her.

Minutes later, Robbie announced that he was about to land.

Stratton opened the door, waving them on, “Hurry it up guys, the radiation is hot out here. We’ve only got a small window.”

Victor then added, “I’ll start the decon process aboard the shuttle.” Victor knew that lack of protective armor meant that he and Ashlyn needed it the most.

Before taking the final step aboard the transport, they took a moment to look at their surroundings. It wasn’t a city anymore. It was a barren, apocalyptic wasteland, scorched and brutal. Seeing the brick building that had saved them, so simple in its appearance, it seemed miraculous that they had survived.

Chapter 3

“Tynabo?” said Ashlyn weakly, her eyes fluttering open for the first time since her rescue. “Tynabo?” A quick glance around the room revealed that she was in a hospital. Her left arm was hooked-up to an I.V. unit attached to the bed. Behind her on the wall, a screen displayed her vitals.

The door by the end of the bed opened. “I thought I heard you. Glad to see that you are finally awake. I’m Renee, from the Bioscience Department—I’m temporarily assisting here in the med unit. We’re a bit understaffed right now.” The two women exchanged smiles as Renee touched Ashlyn’s arm, reassuringly. “Now that you’re awake, you won’t need this anymore,” she added as she began removing the I.V. from Ashlyn’s arm. “You were asking for Tynabo?”

“Yes. It’s really important that I speak with him.”

Renee pulled a chair up to the side of Ashlyn’s bed. Speaking softly, “First, there seems to be a bit of confusion as to what we should call you. Do you prefer D’na or Ashlyn?”

“Ashlyn or Ash. D’na is Tynabo’s pet name for me. It’s his idea of an inside joke.”

Renee smiled. “So, tell me Ashlyn, what’s the last thing that you remember before waking today?”

Ashlyn paused for a long moment, focused thoughts not coming easily. “There was an alarm. Then they told us all to report to a chamber. There was a lot of confusion, people running round. No one seemed to know what was happening.”

“You have no memory of the day we found you? Nothing at all?”

Ashlyn shook her head slowly as she fought to recall.

“I guess I’m not surprised,” said Renee. “We have a lot to discuss. First, I want you to know that you’re safe. Just a few more days to get your strength back and you’ll be good as new.

I must say—you are a very popular girl. You have a lot of friends that are anxious to see you.”

Ashlyn smiled and nodded. “But first, I need to see Tynabo.”

“Ashlyn, a lot has happened. Things have changed. You were in stasis a very long time!”

“How long?”

Renee winced. The intensity in Ashlyn’s eyes demanded an answer. “It’s been almost fifteen years.”

“Fifteen?” Ashlyn swallowed, her eyes widening. Ashlyn dug deep, trying to recall. The set of her eyes deepened as hundreds of scattered images suddenly came flooding in, “We were attacked, weren’t we?” Her memories became clearer, “A small fleet of ships jumped into our system. They seeded the atmosphere with radioactive isotopes that-”

Her eyes watered as she recalled violent, torturous, horrifying scenes. “The radiation burned everyone. I remember all the children.” Coddling her belly, she vainly attempted to ease the emotional pain. She closed her eyes, “I can hear them screaming.” Ashlyn’s mind recalled thousands of images of melting, blistering, charring faces. She saw the world’s cities in flames. Entire continents hidden under a sky turned black from fire and ash. She saw a world that was dead.

As Ashlyn opened her tear-filled eyes, “Spiders. There were spider-like creatures!”

Renee again took Ashlyn’s hand. She inhaled deeply. Renee was shocked by what she was hearing, “Yes, you’re right, on all counts. That is precisely what we watched happening on the video feeds from around the world—but the big question is, how do you know all that? You were in stasis.”

A cold chill raced through Ashlyn as she saw Renee shift uneasily in her seat. “It’s Tynabo isn’t it? He’s dead. He wouldn’t have left us in stasis for fifteen years if he was alive.”

With sympathetic eyes, Renee continued, “Yes, and there’s no easy way to say this Ashlyn—but you are the only survivor from the Foundation.”

“Everyone died? Everyone?”

Renee squeezed Ashlyn’s hand. “I’m truly sorry.”

Ashlyn’s eyes closed. Her head dropped. A tear fell. “How many people died on Earth?”

“Are you sure you’re ready for all this?”

Ashlyn’s head rose, she nodded, her eyes wide, expectant of a hard-to-hear, answer.

After a brief hesitation, “Almost nine billion. There’s only six thousand of us left.” Renee looked up, glancing at Ashlyn’s readouts.

Ashlyn was in disbelief, the numbers were staggering. “How did you survive?” she said softly.

“We almost didn’t. It was a rough ride. We weren’t fully operational when the attack came. We still had major dependencies on the mainland. Everyone worked round-the-clock for months to get Sea Base up and running.”

“Sea Base?” asked Ashlyn.

“I’m so sorry. Yes, you’re in the Challenger Deep Sea Base, in the Pacific. We’re almost 11 kilometers down.”

“Challenger Deep—we’re in the Mariana Trench?”

Renee nodded. “You know your geography.”

“History actually, I’d read about the early Challenger expeditions.”

“That too. The Trench is the reason we survived. Between the mineralized canyon walls and the enormous energy and heat being emitted by the thermal vents, the enemy ships couldn’t detect us. It’s also why the spiders can’t get to us.”

Ashlyn studied the mural of Poseidon holding his Trident on the wall. “And what happened to the alien fleet?”

“A few days after they’d seeded the atmosphere, they released the spiders. Two weeks later they left,” said Renee. “Then, nothing—up until two weeks ago, anyway. Our probe in the Sirius star system sent us an alert that the alien fleet is inbound.

Best guess is that we have a few days to a few months, but there is no way to know for sure, time dilation being what it is. Nor do we know the capabilities of their ships.

We don’t think it’s a coincidence that the shelf-life of the isotopes are expiring and radiation levels are pretty much back to normal.”

Ashlyn’s eyes watered as the horror of all the events settled in her heart. “So much has happened.”

“I’ve said more than I should have. We’ve had time to adjust and acclimate. For you, the world you remember was only yesterday. I am sorry, Ashlyn. I’m sorry about your friends and about Tynabo. I wish your first day with us had been an easier one.”

“It’s not your fault, Renee. I needed to know. I wouldn’t have let you leave without telling.” Ashlyn smiled softly. “Renee, if you don’t mind, I think I do need a little rest.”

Taking a bottle of water from the fridge, Renee handed it to Ashlyn, “I’d like you to drink this slowly. The bed you’re on is actually a cellular regenerator. It’s what healed you. The regen requires you to maintain a high moisture index for it to work properly.”

“Thank you,” Ashlyn took a sip of water and set it on the table beside her.

“All right, try to get some rest. I’ll check on you in a few hours. If you need me, just call out. Gena, our computer, will notify me.” Renee smiled sweetly and stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Alone, Ashlyn closed her eyes. She needed answers. Her life depended on it. Ashlyn then spoke the words that would open the conduit between her and the man for whom she’d been created. She would now find out if he was still alive. “Alnilam, Mintaka, Alnitak.”

The words released a powerful burst of adrenaline. It raced into the deepest corners and recesses of her mind, activating the genetically engineered circuitry that had been dormant within her.

By design, Ashlyn’s heightened passions rose within her like an emboldened warrior, breaking the chains that had kept her aura bound to her physical being. Hungering for harmonic balance, Ashlyn’s aura loosed an invisible tendril of flame. It stretched outwards; sliding around the imperceptible gravimetric eddies of space with uncanny precision. With a graceful and surreal beauty, it found him asleep in his quarters.

Had she not been under the control of the fugue, she might have even chuckled, for like most men; he had simply let his uniform fall to the floor beside the bed. She might have even given thought to the worn set of Admiral’s bars that were sitting on the nightstand and the stack of tabbed and dog-eared strategic warfare books that he had fallen asleep to. At this moment however, her attention was singularly focused.

Seeing his defined chest, chiseled stomach and muscular forearms, her breath hastened. As her thoughts wished that the sheet atop him were a bit lower so that she could see his nakedness, the bulge in the sheets overwhelmed her passions. The power within her aura obeyed her wish, gently sliding the sheet down below his thighs. Seeing him, she gasped. She wanted him desperately.

Ashlyn’s heart was racing, she could see his shaft growing, responding to her aura, aroused by her mental, stroking touch.

She wanted to surrender herself to him, letting him dominate her. The desire embodied within Ashlyn’s aura swirled about him, teasing him, coaxing him and arousing him. When he was ready, it swallowed him whole.

The two flames were tender, yet merciless. Loving, yet unrelenting. The flames intertwined, becoming a fiery pillar of molten gold. It moved slowly, savoring the moment for which it had waited so long. It was a dance of lust, joy and fulfillment realized. A dance which no human eye or human heart had ever known.

Securely locked within the fugue, they were safe. The desolate and destroyed world outside faded away, becoming nothing more than a forgotten memory.

***

Renee had only taken a few steps away from the door, when she remembered that Steven had wanted her to give Ashlyn her personal items upon waking. He’d hoped they would help ease her transition.

Though only a few seconds had passed since she had left, Renee opened the door just in time to hear Ashlyn utter the words, “Alnilam, Mintaka, Alnitak.” Though she recognized the words, she knew nothing of their contextual significance.

She stood frozen as flashes of sparkling light began to dance around Ashlyn. The air itself began to glow golden in color, and the room became alive with sizzling, crackling energy.

Ashlyn’s hair began to lift, papers fluttering round the room as if they were in a twister. Renee watched as Ashlyn’s breathing grew heavy, erratic and her fluidly moving body writhed deeper into the throes of ecstasy. As the blanket covering Ashlyn sailed across the room, carried by the wind, Renee observed an unseen force manipulating Ashlyn’s body. Her breasts were contorting under the touch of invisible hands, her stomach compressing as if someone were atop her. Her hips canted, and her legs came up, wrapping themselves around an invisible presence, her nails clawing at the bed.

Renee shouted loudly above the roaring wind, “Gena, record everything that is happening to her. Run a full chemical and adrenal gland scan and maintain a continuous scan of her brain activity. Highlight all anomalous readings. Chart everything about her down to the molecular level. I want to know what is happening to her!”

Suddenly, the strength of the fugue exploded, increasing a hundredfold. The energy driving the windstorm enveloped Renee, and within moments, she was shadowing Ashlyn’s movements. Though she could not see the man entwined with her as Ashlyn could, she was experiencing the rapturous sensations as if they were her own. She could feel a man’s hands upon her, manipulating her, touching her, prodding her to receive him. She was helpless to resist.

***

While fast asleep, a tendril of energy touched Steven, waking him. As his own electrical field responded to the Siren-like call of Ashlyn’s aura, his mind released a massive wave of adrenaline. It raced through him, opening dormant neural pathways. Like a man lost at sea on a moonless night, Steven found himself afloat in a dark, featureless void. Though seemingly alone, he knew he was not. He could feel a tender warmth lovingly calling him. It encircled him, rousing him with a skillful lover’s touch. His passions engorged him.

Far above him was a solitary, yellow, glowing ember. It twinkled once, twice, and then erupted in a brilliant, golden flash that made him wince. It dimmed, warmed to orange in color, twinkled gently then split in two. The two radiant embers began moving round each other, moving faster and faster, until they were dancing like a pair of frisky fireflies. They flashed, the two becoming four. Four became eight. They split, and split again, brightening the darkness in much the same way as the first warm rays of a sunrise chase away the cold loneliness of night.

As the hauntingly, beautiful pathway formed, the dark sea around Steven evaporated. In some mysterious way, the light was begging him to let the warm, passing breeze carry him along in its wake. Under its mesmerizing control, he could not say no.

No more corporeal than a ghost, Steven drifted down the pathway toward the golden light that was growing ever brighter with each passing moment. As the light engulfed him, the image of Ashlyn solidified before him.

Her beauty arrested him. She was the hallowed epitome of feminine sensuality, hypnotically beautiful in every detail. Her face was soft, sensual and one for which nations would go to war.

Seeing her now, lying naked before him, he studied her slender, graceful legs. Her voluptuous breasts were rousingly inspirational. She was a woman of which men dared not dream, fearing they will become lost to their lust and never awaken.

Like a voyeur, he stared, taking in every detail of her trembling body. The sensuality of her fluid movements left him gasping for air. He watched longingly as her eyes closed and she threw her head back in mind numbing ecstasy. Steven froze, not daring to blink as she pulled her knees up and spread her legs wide. He swallowed hard as her hands moved to her breasts and her lips parted. Her breath was ragged, raw. She was beckoning him.

Aching to hold her, his soul hungry to devour her, he felt a crushing need to possess her. As his mind succumbed to obsessive desire, the nucleus of each cell in his body was set ablaze.

Even as his deepest desires wished he were atop her, thrusting himself into her, so did the melding of their auras make his wish possible.

Solidifying atop her, his passion-induced obsession driving rationality from him, the savage but tempered man within was unleashed. He wrung her heaving breasts, squeezing, squashing and contorting them. In approval, Ashlyn’s sharp sighs welcomed his arrival.

Steven gave a moaning exhale as she swung her legs up, and locked them round the small of his back. As he sensually began coercing her, letting curious and gentle charm finesse her to receive him, she responded to his prodding touch like a bow to an archer’s pull. Each time her back arched, her breasts rose like spired towers into the air, as much a challenge to his imagination as they were a gift to satisfy his gluttonous longings. With his eyes enslaved to their rhythmic, jiggling, heaving sway, their perfect symmetry appealed to his primitive inner craving.

Her tightness still resisting his heavy engorgement, her legs tightened round his hips, begging him to push his cock inside her. And so he did.

With a soft scream, she heralded his penetration of her.

His thrust, while forged in a kiln of heated, lustful passion—was tempered by the mildness of an intimate love driven by the fugue. The fugue grew in power, whipping his mind into an insanely deep state of erotic, frenzied, lusting madness.

And not unlike a heroin addict, he became enslaved to the rapturous psychosis.

In accompaniment to her masterful sonata, he thrust himself into her ravenously, until the tendons in her neck were straining with relentless desire and the rippling contractions of her orgasm were fluttering with the crisp, quick speed of a hummingbird’s wings. He thrust until her lungs were begging for the simplicity of a single breath and until she was pleading for his mercy.

Then, and only then, did he give her that for which her trembling body was screaming. She screamed softly as he gave a mighty thrust and released his hot semen deep inside her. With his release, her lust came fully unbridled and her nails dug deep into his shoulders.

It was under a thunderous cloud of lusting abandon that she was finally broken and he finally satiated. Wrapped within each other’s arms, they basked in the warm afterglow. It was only as their sweat laden, overheated bodies cooled and their hearts stopped pounding, their lungs no longer aching that their lust was bid its leave.

***

As the heat of Steven’s passions faded into oblivion, so did Ashlyn’s image dissipate from beneath him. With her disappearance, he once again found himself afloat on the golden pathway. Backwards he traveled, away from the metaphysical reality until even the pathway itself disappeared.

His return to reality was stark, brutal. He was lonely as never before. He yearned to again be enfolded within her arms.

From the moment he had awakened in the hospital, four days after his return from Denver, he had felt a growing need to be near her. Each of the following three days, while Avenger was being readied to go into space, he had visited her, hoping she would awaken. He had a million questions, but none of them was as important as the simple need to look into her eyes and hear her voice. Being in her presence made him feel complete.

Once Avenger was done prepping for battle and Project Terminus checked and double-checked for readiness—he had been forced to leave.

Now as he lay in his bed, gathering his breath, he contemplated all that had just happened. The disheveled blankets and threads of semen upon the bedding made for a convincing argument that it had been more than just a dream.

He hoped it meant that Ashlyn had awakened.

***

As Ashlyn’s aura separated from Steven and began to shrink, the wind swirling about the room started fading.

Renee, first to be released from the energy field, had no explanation for what she had experienced. Her mind and heart were a jumble of swirling emotions. She felt at once embarrassed and betrayed by her own body for having an orgasm. Her conflicted heart ached, for she longed to hold on to the experience. It had shown her a depth of lust and desire that she had not thought humanly possible.

As Ashlyn began to show signs of waking, Renee had to move quickly, straightening her mussed hair and buttoning her blouse. She almost missed her torn black panties on the floor, managing to pick them up and stuff them into the pocket of her smock just seconds before Ashlyn’s eyes opened.

***

To the sound of Renee’s faraway voice, Ashlyn returned to reality. Such was the depth of her longing for Steven that her heart ached for him. So powerful had been the melding of their two minds that she could still feel her own fading orgasm and his hot seed swirling inside her. Even now, her breath was deep and ragged, her vocals high in timbre.

Though he was somewhere in the depths of space, her search had confirmed that he was alive. How she would get to him or when she would meet him, she didn’t know. For now, she was content just knowing that he was alive, and on this day, there was nothing more important to her.

As her eyes slowly opened and she swiped the errant strands of hair from her face, “Hi there,” said Ashlyn with a soft, sexy, lingering lilt in her voice.

Renee retrieved the sheet on the floor. Draping it over Ashlyn, “Do you know what just happened to you?” Renee looked round the room at the chaotically strewn debris.

Ashlyn’s first thought, the honest answer, I had my first, not by myself, orgasm. An amazing, incredible orgasm. Instead, she answered with, “Not really,” which was also honest.

Studying Gena’s data on the monitor beside Ashlyn’s bed, “My god, your heart was racing at 390 beats a minute. Yet—your vitals don’t show that you were under any harmful duress at all. I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Renee with sincerity and excitement as she studied the graphs. “The levels of your brain activity are unprecedented. Your theta waves were spiking at levels Gena could barely measure. Same for your adrenal glands.”

Renee spotted an anomaly that alarmed her, “Gena, display frames 136 and 137. Decrease magnification to a 1 to 1 ratio.”

“Frames 136 and 137 are already at a 1 to 1 ratio,” came Gena’s reply.

“What the hell! Your pineal, hypothalamus and pituitary glands are almost three times normal size. Not to mention, your EM field vibration levels are off the chart. So is your DMT level. In fact, everything is.”

“In layman’s terms?” asked Ashlyn.

“I think—you had an out-of-body experience. I’ve read a number of case studies about people who claim to have had them, traveling to distant places and other time periods. They say that by channeling the mind, they could create something akin to an inter-dimensional portal, but there has never been any hard, scientific evidence to support it. Not evidence like this anyway.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to me?” asked Ashlyn.

“Probably. These numbers are incredible! It’s just that yours was so interactive, so physical. It was like seeing two realities converging together.

Ashlyn, if I can be so candid, it appeared that you were with someone in the O.B.E? Do you know who it was? Because, it truly looked like someone was trying to twist you into a pretzel,” said Renee with a small, embarrassed laugh.

Ashlyn blushed.

“And I’m also curious about why it all started when you said aloud the name of the three stars in the belt of Orion. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the words triggered the event,” added Renee.

“Yeah, I guess an explanation might help,” said Ashlyn, smiling.

After picking up the overturned chair, Renee sat down, anxious to hear what Ashlyn had to say.

“The words were a planted, suggestive trigger that Tynabo put into my genetics. It was only to be used in an emergency. Fifteen years of stasis seemed to qualify.

But your answer is no,” said Ashlyn. “I don’t know who it was. I’ve never seen him before. I just wanted to find out if he was still alive. It hadn’t seemed likely with so few people left.

All I know is that he was alone and that he had a lot of books in his room.”

“Books?” parroted Renee as she rose to pick up a pillow upon the floor, placing it under Ashlyn’s head. “There aren’t many men who read real books, anymore.”

There was a strange moment of silence in the room. “By the way, my kids told me to give you something when you woke up. It’s their way of saying thank you for saving their father.” Renee opened a drawer in the wall and retrieved two crayon drawings for Ashlyn.

“I saved your husband? I don’t remember that.”

“It isn’t uncommon with the severity of the injuries you had. It is possible that you may remember in time, but yes, he took you out of stasis. Then—you saved him. He was frozen.

The team radioed ahead, getting us ready to receive the injured. From the story they told, I expected you to be a three hundred pound linebacker. The story was astonishing!” Renee then handed the pictures to Ashlyn.

“How old are your kids?” asked Ashlyn.

“My son is eight, my daughter six.”

Ashlyn looked at the pictures and giggled. One picture was of a cow eating grass, the other, a woman with long black hair standing beside their father.

“That’s supposed to be you,” said Renee.

“The woman or the cow?” said Ashlyn.

The two of them laughed.

“Renee, is your husband still here in the hospital? I’d like to meet him. Thank him for finding me.”

“No—he left a couple of weeks back. Right now, he’s aboard Avenger, in space. He’s the Fleet Admiral,” said Renee.

“Your husband is an Admiral?” said Ashlyn, her voice betraying recognition. Her heart leapt into her throat, her stomach knotting as she recalled the worn set of Admiral’s bars on the nightstand.

“Yup, and he’s a book reader too.” Renee let out a loud notable sigh. “Steven—is the only person at Sea Base that still reads the old hardbound books. He collects them. It settles him. He likes to see it the way the author himself saw it.”

Ashlyn’s eyes grew large, her face inlaid with deep concern.

The moment Ashlyn had uttered the word, books, Renee had known. It explained the familiarity she had felt. For it had been her own husband touching her and thrusting himself inside her. Albeit, a shadowed image of the passion that he had shared with Ashlyn.

“Steven was different after he came back. It was subtle. Probably no one but me noticed it, but he’d changed,” said Renee. “I compared your charts. The two of you share hundreds of similar genetic anomalies. I haven’t told anyone, not even Steven. I had been hoping that you were a relative of Steven’s, perhaps his sister. Obviously, with what just happened, I was wrong.” Though she hid it well from Ashlyn, her hands were shaking, her voice quavering.

“The only conclusion is that you are his genetically engineered mate. I guess it wasn’t coincidence that it was he who found you at the Children of Destiny Foundation, a genetics facility.

It also explains why he had an almost obsessive compulsion to meet you. He came here several times each day, hoping you would awaken before he had to ship out. It’s not that he said anything, but his behavior spoke volumes.”

“Renee, I-” Ashlyn had no idea what to say, just that she wanted to apologize.

“Let me finish. I know it’s not your fault, Ashlyn—nor Steven’s. In many ways, I actually should be saying thank you. When the team returned from Denver, Steven was brain dead. There was no activity at all. There was, literally, no reason to hope.

Within hours though, his brain activity had not only restarted, but its patterns had matched yours. The two of you were synched. Somehow, your energy saved him. He drew strength from you.

A day later, you were both in stable condition. By day two, your readings were a 1000 percent above normal. You were stronger together, more than you ever could have been alone.

I ran tests. Lots of them. I wanted to know how the two of you had survived. The results showed that your electrical fields are linked. You are effectively, one person. It’s the only explanation for why you both regenerated so fast. You are very special people.”

Renee, staring intently at Ashlyn. “You even have his eyes. That strange combination of light silvery-blue.”

Renee turned and went to the cabinet behind her. Quietly retrieving a few items, she turned round to Ashlyn.

“Steven is actually the reason I came back to see you. I had forgotten to give you these. Steven wanted you to have them when you regained consciousness. He said it would ease your transition. Here you go. You were wearing this when they found you.”

“My locket,” Ashlyn took it tenderly and closed her fingers around it.

“And this. Steven said to tell you, a picture is worth a thousand words.”

“He’s right. It is. It belonged to Tynabo. He told me it had once belonged to Neil Armstrong.” Ashlyn read it softly, “One Small Step for Man—One Giant Leap for Mankind.”

“And,” Renee handed Ashlyn the holo-player that Tynabo had left. “I haven’t seen what’s on it. I don’t think I want to. Steven was adamant that you see it though.”

“Renee, I don’t know what to say.”

“For now, nothing. Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll talk. Deal?”

Ashlyn nodded and gave a small, narrow smile.

Seeing past what should have been a natural enmity, “By the way, Ashlyn. Call me Ren, all my friends do.”

Chapter 4

For the last seven weeks, Avenger had been lying in wait, hiding in the sun’s chromosphere—but all that changed two hours ago with the arrival of Enlil’s fleet.

As Steven had anticipated, the flagship held back, staying close to their jump point by the sun, while the main fleet of seventeen ships headed to Earth, using the Moon for cover. As the ships came to their closest point of approach, less than 30 kilometers from the Moon, Steven sprung the trap, activating Project Terminus.

Project Terminus was a bomb of incredible destructive power, set deep within the core of Earth’s Moon. The UN had placed it there decades before, and like President Tomlinson had said, it was a Hail Mary. There was no guarantee of survival. It was a last resort. The bomb was comprised of Helgenium, element 119, a rare stable super-heavy element, discovered less than a century earlier.

Enlil’s fleet was ill prepared for the massive strength of the blast or for the debris that pummeled them, overloading their shields. Within seconds, the enemy fleet was decimated.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Avenger launched a timed, coordinated attack upon the flagship.

Motivated by retribution, Enlil’s flagship had done the one thing that Steven hadn’t anticipated before she limped off, trying to escape.

Steven, an ordinarily unconquerable man with commanding eyes and broadly squared shoulders of leadership and strength—had melted into obscurity. In his place stood the mortal man, the husband, the father.

He stood stoically behind the shoulders of Avenger’s helmsmen, anxiously waiting—his eyes locked upon the forward view screen as his ship raced to catch the missile that was streaking toward Earth.

His head began pounding, his concentration faltering as he entered into yet another spike in the ebbing flow of the fugue, and he cursed himself for the bad timing. Like a fish caught on a hook, he struggled against the pull, always losing ground. Each day its grasp upon him tightened, dragging him deeper. Each night as he fell asleep, the fugue overtook him, whisking him away unto a netherworld of dreams in which Ashlyn came to him.

***

As yet another large quake stilled, Ashlyn’s craft settling—a small alarm on her tactical display sounded, bringing attention to a blip on the screen.

Sitting on the rim of the trench, some four thousand meters above Sea Base, Ashlyn saw that far outside the minefield’s protective grid and far from the numerous blips that represented the debris of Enlil’s destroyed fleet, a lone, red, flashing triangle was approaching Earth. Target 01M.

As a new pilot in training, they had given Ashlyn the simplest of duties. Each day, she took a shift monitoring the lasers, making sure they were always in a state of readiness for when the attack began. For Ashlyn, it was supposed to have been nothing more than the work of a sleepy-eyed night watchman. It was here that the myriad of little creatures, drawn to the laser’s resonant hum and eerie orange glow could help distract her from her profoundly strong need to be with Steven.

Each night, the fugue brought them together. Each time, Ashlyn’s blood felt like it were boiling; her mind and body focused upon the desperate need to possess him. The fugue was seeking a physical fulfillment, which had not come, and it often left her feeling faint and disoriented. Killer migraines had forced her into isolation, seeking out quiet, darkness and solitude.

Forty minutes ago, all that changed. Now the three sequentially linked quad-lasers were protecting Sea Base from Earth’s exploded Moon.

Ashlyn damned the bad timing as she began to experience a spike in the fugue. To help her focus, she let loose a guttural, gritty scream.

“Gena, how large is target 01M?”

“The Orbiter 3 satellite data shows target 01M is 12.2 meters in length and is fusion powered,” answered Gena.

As the spike peaked in strength, Ashlyn began to experience, bleeding. The images from within Steven’s mind told her all that she needed to know.

Without wasting precious seconds of time to transmit a message through her comm’s high-security encryption mode, “Dog house, this is Lady Fox! Emergency response requested!”

No reply.

“Dog house, repeat, this is Lady Fox. Please respond!”

“Foxy Lady, your orders are to maintain radio silence!”

Ignoring the reprimand and the familiar wordplay of her call sign, “Sir, the order is obsolete. There is a missile, a planet killer, on its way to Earth. We need to intercept it!”

A long moment of silence passed before a familiar voice returned, “This is Commander Stratton. We are well aware of the situation. The laser will take care of the missile. Your request is denied.”

“Sir, the missile is a doomsday weapon. It’s meant to destroy Earth! And it’s going to circumvent the laser.”

“We have no evidence to support that.”

“Trust me. I have inside information. We need to do this.”

“Ashlyn, you were at the briefing a few weeks back. You know as well as I do, that it’s impossible to navigate through the hailstorm of falling debris. It’s suicide—and dammit, you are just too green to be considering this. Not to mention that it’s more than your life that you’re risking.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have a choice!” said Ashlyn with finality. “This is bigger than me, or the others that I’m putting at risk. The needs of the many-” Ashlyn knew that Stratton was one of the few people aware of the fact that by risking her own life, she was also risking Steven’s.

He heard her comm go silent as she cut communications, “Fuck!” Stratton pounded his fist on the console, his concern for her and Steven evident. “Son-of-a-bitch!”

“Lady Fox, preparing for surface flight. Watchdogs, shield your intakes. I’m powering up,” she announced over her ship-to-ship channel. “Gena, retract robotic arms. Run a check of all systems in preparation for air-flight. Executive priority one status to be given to maintaining full atmospheric pressure and cockpit hull integrity at their current levels.”

Her Sharkfin’s robotic arms retracted and the ship’s folded wings lowered in preparation for take-off. Outside, her Sharkfin’s flaps waved as Gena ran a quick diagnostic of the flight systems, calibrating them for optimal performance.

“Parker, the shields aren’t designed to deflect large debris. Stratton’s right, it is suicide!” said Jackson sitting in the Sharkfin fifteen meters to Ashlyn’s right.

“It’s true that they aren’t designed for it, but the simulator runs I’ve made, show that they will hold for a few minutes. I just have to avoid the big ones. It’ll be enough! It has to be!”

With her ship’s systems flashing readiness, Ash toggled on the external floods, sending the curious menagerie of strange creatures that were swimming lazily about her craft darting away into the darkness. Flipping the green, yellow and red toggles to her left, she began the energy buildup to ignite the three main fusion reactors. “Gena, bring the secondary’s on-line. Maintain monitoring and sync flow for maximum output.” A gentle pull on the yoke and her Sharkfin lifted quietly off the bottom. As her craft spun round, turning its backside to the laser, a heavy cloud of silt was sent roiling off the ocean floor.

Seconds later, “Laser safety perimeter cleared,” announced Gena.

“Bring the mains on line.” The mains ignited and with a light push on the throttle Ashlyn’s fighter darted ahead, away from the shimmering, orange water and into a blackness that was deeper than the darkest night.

“Gena, at full throttle, what’s our time to maximum targeting range?”

“Approximately, four minutes, thirty-five seconds,” came the instant reply.

“Time until the missile enters the atmosphere?” Ashlyn asked.

“Five minutes and forty seconds.”

“Sea Base, this is Jackson. I’m going with Foxy Lady. She needs a wing-man!” he said while punching his Sharkfin’s thrusters.

Overhearing his call, Ash eased up on the throttle. A glance at her radar screen told her that he was coming up fast on her port side. Pulling alongside, he flashed his port-floods.

“Guess I’m not the smartest monkey in the zoo,” said Jackson over the ship-to-ship comm.

“Maybe, but I think Darwin would be awfully proud of his little primate right now,” said Ashlyn just as a series of strong jolts jostled both their craft. “Thanks, Jackson. Glad to have the company. Hold onto your hat, topside readouts show the wind shears are topping 830 knots. It’s going to be gut-wrenching.”

“Damn straight! My Sharkfin’s already bucking like a thirty year-old virgin getting her first screw!”

“As if you knew anything about virgins!” said Ash mockingly while studying her readouts.

“It’s not my fault you’re the last martyr on Earth. I would be happy to fix that little problem for you though!” said Jackson with more seriousness than jest.

“Remind me to break Victor’s arm for letting that bit of information out! There’s this little thing called doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Parker, I have to fess up. It wasn’t Victor. Your file was open on his computer when I went into his office a few weeks back,” replied Jackson, sheepishly.

“It was you who let it out?”

“Kinda, sorta, yeah. I mean, who could have guessed that a woman who looks like you, was still a virgin. Shit, you’re rarer than an albino elephant!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll have to break your arm then. We’ll have to discuss it later, time to focus. Prepare for air-flight in 4—3—2—1—,” said Ashlyn, happy to have good cause for forcing the conversation back to the mission.

The two fighters burst from the ocean unto a world of charcoal gray plumage and thickly churning clouds of tornadic waterspouts, hail and lightning. The sight was dark and foreboding.

In bold contrast, the lasers below were giving them a spectacular sendoff, pulverizing red, orange, yellow and sometimes blue-green meteors far above them. It was a fireworks display befitting Zeus.

The lasers garner their energy from a set of massive cold-fusion thermal reactors, which sit atop nearly thirteen square kilometers of deeply cored, thermal vents, twenty-six kilometers south of Sea Base. Originally, each of the three, quad-laser units had been attached to a Claw, a giant computerized mobile tractor and self-contained refinery. The automated platforms wandered the ocean floor, forever in search of raw minerals to be used in the building, construction and continued maintenance of the underwater colony.

For the last fourteen years however, they had sat silently waiting for the day when they would protect the Challenger Deep Sea Base from the after-effects of Project Terminus.

“You were right, average wind velocity is 450 knots up here, and I’m showing shears of nearly double that,” said Jackson incredulously. “The Moon’s explosion sure stirred up the hornet’s nest.”

Jackson’s words were a superlative understatement. Before the orbiting cameras had gone off-line, everyone at Sea Base had stared in stunned silence, marveling at the sheer immensity of the explosion that had inundated the ships of the enemy fleet.

“All right, kill your floods. Set your shields to maximum power, auto-heat compensation. We’ll maintain-” Ashlyn’s voice broke off as she took note of a low, rumbling sound. Glancing to her right, she saw a massive wall of water racing across the ocean’s surface toward them. “Jackson, disengage your safety protocols and go to full boost, now! Roll 40 degrees to port,” screamed Ashlyn over the comm.

Jackson disengaged the safety and hit the boosters as Ashlyn had ordered. The alarm in her voice was damned scary.

The two fighters had exited the ocean from deep within a trough of towering walls of water and it was going to be close, very close.

“Hot-diggity-damn! Now that’s a tidal wave,” said Jackson.

To their right, less than fifteen hundred meters away was a mountainous wave racing toward them at hundreds of kilometers per hour.

With the safety protocols removed, the fighters pushed deep into the redline limits of their engines. The engines roared as flames shot more than a hundred meters behind them. The wave grew closer with each passing millisecond until the curling edge of the wave was looming above Ashlyn like the blade of a sharpened sickle readying to strike.

Ashlyn’s genetically enhanced abilities kicked in, perceptually slowing time and the speed of movement of everything around her. To her right, she watched the warm, orange, glowing reflections of the laser bursts that were filling the sky as the wave twisted and distorted them into a kaleidoscope of unearthly apparitions. She found it to be as intriguing as it was beautiful.

A frothy foam that was leading the overhanging curl of the wave began pelting her shields, belying the power that was pushing it along. As Ashlyn cut through the foam, just escaping the curl, flying in her wake like a baby whale cow following its mother’s lead, was Jackson. His engine sputtered noticeably as his fighter cut through the froth then came back to full power as his craft burst into the clear. The body of the wave cut across his trailing wash just inches below the wing and tail mounted engines.

***

“What’s holding up that analysis, Casey?” said Steven anxiously.

“I can’t get a detailed read on it, sir. There is too much interference emanating from the debris field of the alien fleet. It’s scrambling the scans.”

“Two hundred kilometers, mark!” said Mr. O’Brien. Following Steven’s instructions, “Launching Intercepts!”

“Sir, I’ve got an enemy fighter exiting from the field!” said radar.

“A fighter? Is he within laser range?” asked Steven.

“No, sir. He’s moving away from us. Looks like he is altering course to provide cover for the missile,” answered radar.

“Casey, reprogram the first three Intercepts to target the fighter!”

***

“Yeehaw, Avenger has launched Intercepts!” Jackson ballyhooed in typical high-flying cowboy fashion. “Looks like we can take these puppies back to the pound.” Even before the words had fully left his mouth, “Damn, Parker, on your radar, ten o’clock! I have an enemy fighter. If he isn’t the luckiest son-of-an-alien-bastard I ever saw!”

“I see him. He’s changing vector to intercept the missile. Looks like he’s planning to ride shotgun. He’ll pick-off Avenger’s Intercepts as they come in. Hate to say it, but we still have a job to do.

Leaving laser protection grid in 30 seconds, mark,” said Ashlyn. “Prepare to follow my lead. Set the scoop to forward-wide. Laser to full power, 30-degree rotational spread, maximum firing rate. Avoid the big ones; let the laser take care of the small ones. We’ll clear-cut a path for ourselves.”

“Copy, scoop to forward-wide. Laser to full power, 30-degree rotational spread. Maximum firing rate. You do know that’s going to put a huge drain on our reserves!” he shot back.

“If we last long enough to drain our cores dry, I’ll be as happy as a dog with a belly full of beer at a hydrant factory!” said Ash as she finished flipping through the displays.

“Aye!” And now that she had brought it to his attention, Jackson evacuated himself into his suit’s bio-bag.

From the nose-mounted lasers on their Sharkfins, they ran the gauntlet. In rapid-fire succession, each of their lasers blazed, cutting down the debris in front of them. It was impressive, to say the least.

“Ok, Jackson. Here is where the ride gets exciting! Prepare for a sustained heavy G climb. Have your med unit inject a B1 stimulant. I don’t need you blacking out on me.”

“Hey Parker, 9 o’clock!”

Outside the grid, for as far as the eye could see, hundreds of meteors were pelting the ocean. Massive sweeping rings of water were racing away from each impact. Plumes of super-heated steam were rising thousands of meters into the air where it was feathering the wildly churning clouds above. Within the clouds, an electrical storm raged.

“Prom time,” said Ashlyn. “When we enter the cloud cover, we’re going to lose ship to ship visual for a bit, so set your collision sensors to maintain a 40 meter minimum distance between us—and don’t forget to set your engine intake shielding to maximum.”

“Setting collision sensors to 40 meters, intake shielding to maximum,” he parroted while flipping toggles.

“Here we go, 3—2—1—.” Ashlyn pulled on the yoke bringing her Sharkfin’s nose up sharply. With the Earth falling away behind them, Ashlyn bobbed and dipped, weaving her way through the massive onslaught of incoming debris. “Entering cloud cover, losing ship to ship visual.”

“I don’t know how you stay so calm, Ashlyn!” said Jackson as his ship jostled from another hit to the dampening field.

“It’s not about staying calm. It’s about staying in control.” Seconds later as they cleared the turbulent cloud layer, “Tighten the formation to 30 meters. The lasers will be more effective and the shields will stay cooler,” said Ashlyn.

“I’m already crapping in my pants over here—my shields are nearing the red line. Hull integrity has deteriorated by 67 percent. The internal pressure is just too much. When we hit zero g, kaboom.”

“Stay with me, Jackson. In 40 seconds we’ll be within laser range.”

Without needing to glance at her readouts, Ashlyn knew that her own shields were also weakening. They had gone from their typical ultra-light blue to its present color of dirty gray as they cast a faint sheen upon her field of vision. It was a silent but ominous warning to the few remaining seconds of time for which they would continue to hold.

***

Casey, staring into her monitor: “Our first missile is closing on the fighter!—3—2—1—contact.” After a brief pause, “The fighter’s shields have weakened, but they’re still holding.

Sir, their missile, it has weapons!” said Casey in disbelief. “They’ve just been activated.”

“Weapons? What type?” asked Commander Leslie Brooks, Steven’s First in command.

“It appears to be two small laser turrets, one above, one below,” responded Casey.

They had not encountered the technology before. As it was, the use of eight valuable Intercepts had already seemed grossly excessive, even to stop a doomsday missile. Now, Steven’s assumption was threatening to condemn his soul to eternal damnation.

“The fighter is firing lasers. Intercept 2 destroyed. Intercept 3 is locked on. Enemy fighter is executing evasive. She dodged the Intercept! Intercept has maintained a lock and is pursuing! The fighter is rotating, Intercept closing—yes! Fighter destroyed, sir.”

It was a victory without celebration as their attention turned to the Intercepts, which were closing on the missile.

“Intercept 4 is locked on.” His pursed lips changed to a sullen frown. “Intercept 4 has been destroyed! Intercepts 5 and 6 are closing—Intercepts 5 and 6 have been destroyed!” said Casey.

“Those laser turrets are damned accurate!” said Brooks, voicing all their thoughts aloud.

“Our last two Intercepts are now arriving,” said Casey.

Steven eyes were wide, not daring to blink. His mouth was dry.

“Sir—all of our Intercepts have been destroyed. 39 seconds until the missile hits atmosphere,” said Casey with an eerily dead voice.

“Mr. O’Brien, you’ve got to hit it with the laser! You’ve got to!”

The Lieutenant’s eyes were pinned to the targeting grid. Unable to achieve a solid lock under the extreme distance, he took shot after shot. The seconds ticked away with alarming speed. The hope Steven held in his heart began to wane. If his wife and children died, he was sure the last tenuous thread to his sanity would be broken—and if Ashlyn died-

***

“Hot-diggity-dog—Avenger cleared the rooster out of the hen house.” No sooner had Jackson uttered the enthusiastic words than, “I’ve been hit! I’ve been hit! Son of a bitch! Shields super heating, 16 percent over critical and climbing. Cockpit integrity is at 4 percent and falling.”

“Turn back!” shouted Ashlyn—as she watched Jackson sheer away, a hefty rocketing white-hot rock struck his left wing, snapping it in two and sending him into a high-g tumble.

“I’ve got no response—repeat, no response from stabilizers. Cockpit integrity is at 1 percent. Shields collapsing!

Dammit, I would have given you one hell of a night to remember Foxy Lady! One ride on the Jackson express, and forever you’d be saying that I was the best!” His voice cracked, not from his resignation to dying, but from his disappointment over never having slept with Ashlyn.

Her comm went silent as Jackson’s highly pressurized containment field collapsed and his ship exploded. Ashlyn’s steely eyes softened, “God speed, my friend. God speed.”

Ashlyn’s view of space suddenly sharpened into crystal clarity, revealing a spectacular sight of brilliantly flickering stars. The real showpiece though belonged to the millions of chunks of Moon debris. Fragments of all sizes lay before her like a minefield, forcing her to wiggle her way around and between them. Most were inward bound, being slowly drawn into the atmosphere by Earth’s gravity. If it had not been for the dire situation, she would have actually enjoyed the thrill of racing around them.

A moment later, she was weightless. With the loss of gravity, Ashlyn’s silver necklace, with its blue-stoned locket began to rise. Clutching it tightly in the palm of her left-hand, she drew it to her heart.

Ashlyn’s Sharkfin jerked sharply to starboard as a baseball-sized meteor took a bite out of her right wing’s airfoil. As she was testing the wing’s hydraulics, the computer announced that her cockpit integrity had fallen to 4 percent. The cast about her ship began to dissipate. Dust and pebbles began to impact with the canopy.

“Gena, isolate my laser targeting, helm, and weapon’s control. Divert all remaining power, including that of life-support and engine intake shielding to the cockpit containment shield.”

Whisper-quiet, as per her instructions, systems throughout her craft began going dark, until even the faint breeze of circulating air stilled.

“Gena, initiate eye-synchronous targeting grid.” A black, background holo-screen came to life with a luminously, green grid. The computer read the movement in her eyes, and zoomed in upon grid 3B. “Magnify and enhance target 01M, level 32 zoom and lock focus.” Instantly, the computer homed in on the missile, enhancing it across the full spectrum of humanly seeable light. To Ashlyn it appeared as a three-dimensional object that seemingly sat within arm’s reach. Only her sim training kept her from thinking she could reach out and touch it.

Already second nature to her, Ashlyn quickly thumbed through the targeting selections. Her chosen settings: eye-synchronous targeting; pinpoint beam; maximum power. Her eyes narrowed, “Hope you’re watching, Jackson.”

Pressing the red fire-button on the yoke, a half-inch wide, sizzling, white-orange laser beam shot outwards from her Sharkfin’s nose mounted cannon. The beam sliced through a million particles of dust and with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel, it struck to the heart, piercing the missile’s casing and striking the energy core. The missile’s incendiary payload exploded, lighting up a half-million square kilometers of space like an exploding sun.

Though her helmet’s light filter tried to compensate, the pure white-light blinded her instantly. Ashlyn gasped, nearly fainting as the shock to the optic nerve sent stabbing pains shooting through her skull. “Gena, inject a level 2 pain inhibitor.”

The pinprick to the back of her neck was lost amid the jarring jolts and jostles racking her fighter. As she fought through the subsiding pain, her right hand gripping the yoke, Ashlyn simulated the feel of a 180-degree turn and began the descent into the unseen void beneath her. It was then, that her unshielded engine sucked in a piece of Moon debris and exploded. An ironically pleasant chime heralding the engine’s loss.

Another explosion rocked her craft and again another chime accompanied the explosion.

Unbeknownst to her, amid the jostles, a chunk of rock had struck her Sharkfin’s tail fin, snapping off its upper section and cutting its internally hidden comm antenna in half. With shreds of frayed steel and carbon-fiberglass resin flailing behind her, Ash re-entered the upper atmosphere. Though her hand was steady, her badly damaged Sharkfin was handling like a newborn giraffe trying to find its legs on a sheet of ice.

***

Seeing the missile explode, the bridge crew of Avenger jumped out of their seats, giving a hearty round of cheers and whistles.

“The missile was destroyed 14 seconds before atmospheric entry,” Casey called out.

Steven collapsed in his chair as the release of stress whisked away the energy from his legs—his white-knuckled fingers flexing as he felt the tingle of returning blood. “Good shot Mr. O’Brien!”

“I didn't do it!” he said, bewildered.

With questioning eyes, Steven spun to look at the lieutenant.

“It wasn’t me, sir!”

“The shot came from a Sharkfin,” said Casey whose face was buried in the viewfinder of her monitor. “It was probably one of the units assigned to the ground-side laser detail. Somehow, the pilot must have made it through the debris.”

Within his mind, the face of Ashlyn came to the fore. Though she was a new pilot and had done little more than simulator training, he was certain she had shot the missile.

***

Stratton threw his fist into the air, cheering along with those beside him as Ashlyn nailed the missile and held his breath as a weak, static filled call came in from her.

“Dog—se, thi—is Lady Fox—I’m pretty badly banged u—Gena’s systems are disabl—, I’ve got—heavy vibration. Flight controls are bare—resp—ding—guess this dog is going—need a new set—paws. I can’t read—altimete—or radar.—been blinded,” she said with the unbelievable coolness that typically only a veteran fighter pilot was capable of displaying. “—in a slow descen—lower altitu-”

“Foxy Lady,” Stratton said with a proud yet controlled concern, “I’ll scramble Briggs and Hanks to tow you in.”

“No need, Dog House! The Watchdogs have sprouted wings.

We have you on radar, Foxy Lady! ETA is 3 minutes and 10 seconds. Ease your descent down 5 degrees and slowly swing her 25-degrees to port. It’ll bring you back inside the protective grid,” said Briggs.

“—ger that. Thanks guys,” she said as a residual shockwave from the missile jostled her Sharkfin.

“Good job Foxy Lady—good job!” said Stratton.

Stratton’s well-intentioned words were lost to the sadness that welled in her heart, for she had lost a friend who had stood by her.

Chapter 5

“Sir! I’m monitoring an enormous shockwave from the missile’s explosion!” said Science Officer Casey with a raised voice. “Its magnitude is off the scale.”

“Helm, evasive. Turn us around,” ordered Steven. “Casey, how long?”

“At full impulse, it will catch us in four minutes and twenty-two seconds.”

“Casey, give me a full update.”

“The Harrison drive will be off-line for twelve to fifteen hours. We are currently at 56 percent power after our engagement with the flagship. The shields are too weak to withstand the shockwave. The wave also has a series of strong radiation swells behind it. Even with the ramjet deflecting the radiation, it’s going to tax our systems beyond lethal limits.”

“Ok, people. Give me some options!”

Spawned by the remounting pressure, Brooks gave a deep sigh. “I hope you’ve got another miracle up those long sleeves?”

“Miracles come from God, Brooks. If he does exist, he’s no friend of ours! We’ve walked this trail by ourselves, sacrificing our friends and families with each step.” Steven’s anger over the billions of dead and the resulting hardships that they had all been forced to endure over the last years, had left no room in his heart for believing that God might choose today to come to their rescue.

“Admiral, if I take the lasers off-line, I can use the generator to squeak an extra 4 or 5 percent power to the shields.”

“Thanks Chief, anything will be a help.

Casey, put the wave on the main viewer. Plug in the data, and have Gena run sims to see if a reconfiguration of the shields might help.”

On the monitor, a great, red circle was gaining on them. All objects behind it were lost to the convulsing cloud that led the wave.

“Sims complete, sir. The best scenario shows that a reconfiguration of the shields can theoretically improve the probability of them holding by 34 percent. We need to create a pointed wedge around the ship with the point extending about 300 meters off our stern. The highest concentration of energy needs to be focused on the point and decreasing as it sweeps backward. Essentially splitting the wave above and below us, but sir, even doing so, the wave is still too strong,” said Casey.

“Just tell me if you have the time to do it?” inquired Steven.

“I think so, but I’ll need the Chief’s help and the alteration of the computer needs to be done at the mainframe in Section 2.”

“Do it!”

“Permission to accompany them?” asked Brooks.

“Granted.”

***

“Ease back on your thrusters a bit Foxy Lady, we’re pulling up alongside you. In a moment, you are going to feel a jolt as I extend my shields around you and bring you inside the bubble. I’m getting a read on your ship’s atmospheric pressure now, so we can do a match.

Time to sit back and enjoy the ride, you’ve earned it! And let me tell you, it’s time you changed your call-sign from Lady Fox, to Lady Luck.”

“That bad, huh?”

“And then some!” Briggs studied her fighter, wondering what divine power had kept it in the air. The craft’s fuselage had been pummeled ‘til it resembled the dimpled skin of a golf ball. Large portions of her fighter’s heat shielding had fallen away to be lost in the ocean below. Even the underlying coats of thermal paint had been sandblasted away, revealing much of the polished steel alloy layering beneath.

Exposed circuitry sparked and crackled in half-a-dozen places.

The fighter’s wing-flaps were rattling like the doors of an old barn during a winter storm and the rear-rudder was no more useful than the ragged tail of a homemade kite.

Add the fact that she had held her craft steady with two of her three engines destroyed, “They say Jesus walked on water but you Foxy Lady—have the wings of an angel.”

It was then that he noticed an expanding crack in her cockpit’s canopy. “Ash, your canopy is about to blow!”

Knowing he had to roll the dice, his computer not yet having gotten a final read on her cabin’s internal pressure, he took his shot. “Gena extend shields around Ashlyn’s fighter!” shouted Briggs.

In the fraction-of-a-second that it had taken him to give the order, Ashlyn’s craft exploded in a thousand pieces.

***

“Reduce all ship’s functions to minimum, including life support. Evacuate and darken crew’s quarters. Shut down all non-essentials,” said Steven.

“Aye, sir,” said Mr. O’Brien. “Sounding evac on decks three through five. Reducing life support to minimum on all remaining decks. Sir? How about if we divert the Sharkfin energy cores? It isn’t much, but combined, they may add two or three million terra-watts to our available supply.”

Steven gave Mr. O’Brien a half-smile of acknowledgment. “Damage control; get all available teams down to the Sharkfin launch bays. Divert the power from the Sharkfin energy cores into Avenger’s supply. I also want you to clamp the Sharkfins down. The concussion might be too much for the magnetics alone.”

“Aye, sir. On our way. We’ll get it done.”

“Jenkins, send two waves of three Intercepts at the nearest point of the wave directly behind us, thirty second separation, 4 degree spread. Perhaps we can punch a few holes in it.”

“Aye, sir. Loading intercepts. I’ll have to detonate them manually!”

“Give it your best shot, lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.—Launching.”

“Sir, when the shields go off-line for reconfiguration, we’ll be vulnerable to a hull breach. I recommend using the forward laser array to clear a path,” said Mr. O’Brien.

“Negative, we can’t spare the energy for the shields or the laser. You ever play chess Mr. O’Brien?”

“Don’t you mean poker, sir?”

“Not at all. A great poker player is nothing more than a lucky liar. Chess however, is a game for gentlemen. It is a game of skill and calculated maneuverings. We will not breach, Mr. O’Brien; you have my word on it.

Helm, ETA?”

“Count is three minutes and two seconds.”

“Comm, open the ship wide address.”

“Channel open, sir.”

“To all hands, this is the Admiral. We have successfully destroyed the enemy fleet and the missile launched at Earth, but the missile’s shockwave is now chasing us. I need you to shut down all energy sources that are not critical to Avenger’s survival. A final warning alert will sound thirty seconds before impact. Batten yourselves down. It’s going to be a rough ride. May God watch over you my friends; you have performed beyond all of my expectations. Sherrah out.”

Steven felt hypocritical speaking of God and yet he knew that for those who still had faith, the words were appropriate.

“The shields are off‑line,” said Mr. O’Brien looking up from his science monitor. “And the laser’s generator is now tied in with the main power supply.”

With the shields down, dust and debris began grating against the hull. Shrill screeches reverberated throughout the ship like an angry banshee’s scream. Driven by anxiety and fear, everyone on the bridge turned to look at Steven wherein his calm demeanor instantly assuaged much of their concern.

“Time to impact, one minute and thirty seconds,” said Mr. O’Brien.

***

“Sea Base, this is Briggs. We lost Ashlyn. Her ship-” his tortured voice failed him. His head dropped. He felt like someone had just kicked him in the balls. It seemed an eternity before he spoke again, “We’re returning to Sea Base. Requesting permission to have the 2nd team take our watch on laser detail.”

“Permission granted,” said Stratton. His heart was heavy, his voice as dead and tortured as Briggs’. His thoughts went to Steven, wondering if even now, Steven could sense that Ashlyn had died.

***

“Intercepts arriving in 3—2—,” said Jenkins, his finger pushing the button that detonated the missiles. Through the rearward view monitor a series of tiny bright flashes erupted, only to be instantly swallowed. “The first volley detonated 120 meters in front of the wave.”

Jenkins turned to look at Steven, almost as if he expected to see an affirming smile of well done. Instead, he saw that Steven was white as a ghost, his eyes closed, his brow ferociously tensed, his clawing fingers gripping the armrests.

“The section of the wave behind us has weakened by 4.7 percent,” said Mr. O’Brien peering into his monitor.

“Sir? Admiral? What is it?” said Jenkins.

“Something’s wrong!” said Steven. “It’s Ashlyn. She’s-”

***

“Warning, you are under attack,” announced Gena.

“What the hell?” Briggs quickly studied his scanners and saw nothing. “That’s impossible! We’re the only ones up here!” Then, as it dawned on him, “Gena, activate my underside hull camera. Highlight the area where the attack came from.” Briggs began to search the region Gena had highlighted. It was a mess. Sea Base’s lasers were systematically targeting the largest pieces of streaking meteoric debris.

Suddenly, Gena zoomed in, locking onto a small, red fireball. “Target located.”

It was smaller, slimmer, than Briggs had expected. It reminded him of—a soldier during a dropping exercise.

“God-damned, she’s alive!” he yelled, over the open comm. Hitting the turbo, he raced after her. Her speed was already intense and he was unsure whether he could catch her in time.

His team was hailing him, telling him he was wrong, that it was impossible. He knew they were right; it was contrary to all logic. Sea Bases’ pilots wore no armor, no official uniform, and out of all of them, Ashlyn wore even less. The team as they did each morning attended a short briefing before heading out. Each member of the team had made a point of engaging her in conversation, lingering around her, stretching out the moment so they could ogle her. That day, like every other, Ashlyn wasn’t wearing any under garments and her tight, thin, black exercise stretch was completely see-thru, in all the right places. As always, she left them panting.

It was hard to fault the teams’ logic, she couldn’t be alive. There wasn’t a single reason to believe what his eyes were telling him—only his gut instinct, declaring that it was a controlled flight.

He tried the comm, hoping against hope that she could hear him.

Briggs had narrowed the gap to two kilometers when he realized he was running out of room to catch her. Not forgetting that she had been blinded, he knew there was little she could do to help herself. It was up to him.

Dropping the limiters on his craft, he pushed hard. His craft was glowing red; the nose of his ship was in flames as it super-heated the air before him. To the members of his team who were watching, he appeared as little more than another fireball shooting through the sky. An alarm started to sound, warning him that the heat shielding on the nose of his craft was beginning to disintegrate.

Within moments, he was beside her. He tried to extend his shield around her, bringing her inside.

“Unable to comply. Material composition is unknown.”

Unknown. “Gena, time until impact?”

“Twenty three seconds.”

“Gena, disarm warhead and fire Intercept—now.” Briggs saw the Intercept race ahead of him. “Gena, detonate launched Intercept!” As he rocketed through the area of the explosion, he grunted, pulling hard and fast on the controls to bring his nose up.

“Good luck, Foxy lady. It’s up to you now.” As his ship swooped low, pulling up just twenty-eight meters above the surface. “Gena, track the unidentified object, and note the object’s point of entry into the ocean.”

***

Ashlyn had hoped that someone had seen her signal. She’d taken a few dozen random shots with her armor’s laser, hoping to draw attention. All she could do now was wait. She focused her senses, trying to take the path of least resistance, trying to create as little heat-buildup as possible.

She had never expected to have reason to use the locket Tynabo had given her on her 24th birthday. Now, she was thankful for his insight. The locket held a technology, banned for more than a century. Tynabo had said little when giving it to her, starting the conversation with, ‘Don’t ask questions.’ He then explained that it was designed to work exclusively with her brain’s wave-pattern and that it was for emergency use only.

When she had pushed its center blue stone, activating it—she’d figuratively, crossed her fingers. The speed of the device surprised her. The adaptive nanotech built a slender, form-fitting, armored suit around her just a fraction of second before her craft exploded.

With her blindness making it impossible to see what abilities her armor offered her—upon realizing that there wasn’t a transmitter, Ashlyn rattled off several more voice commands. She soon stumbled onto one to which the minimalistic AI responded. A powerful, but simple laser.

Ashlyn could sense the nanotechnology fighting to replicate and replace the armor’s shedding, outer layers. It was a race, which so far, the armor was winning.

***

“Is everything all right, sir?” asked Jenkins.

“For the moment.” Steven smiled at the young man.

Returning to his monitor, Jenkins’ gave the update, “Second volley arriving.” A moment later, “A bit better, 109 meters this time. The wave has weakened another—6.2 percent.”

“Engineering, how is the shield configuration coming?”

“We’re working on it, sir,” replied Brooks.

“We have little more than a minute, Commander!”

“Aye, sir.” The fact that Brooks was under pressure from the time constraint was hugely evident in his voice.

“Sharkfin generators are on‑line. Reserves are at 59 percent and rising. Sir, even with the ramjet particle-accelerators at maximum, radiation is beginning to seep through the outer hull,” said Mr. O’Brien.

“Understood. Comm, open ship’s channel. All personnel are instructed to move away from the outer bulkhead. External radiation is reaching critical levels. Close channel.”

The final warning alert sounded, followed by Mr. O’Brien’s announcement, “Thirty seconds until collision, all hands brace for impact.”

Those who had not already done so, including Steven, fastened their harnesses. “Commander?” said Steven with growing concern to Brooks in Section 2.

“We’re trying, sir.

Gena’s damned safety protocols won’t validate the design.”

"Gena, implement Admiral’s Executive Priority One Protocols to remove all ship’s safety limiters. Password, Zechariah Sitchin,” said Steven aloud. “Try it now Commander."

“Radiation is still increasing,” said Jenkins with anxious concern.

“Strengthen the ramjet and shields by twenty percent,” ordered Steven.

“Sir, ramjet heat tolerance is already six percent over critical! And the shields are at maximum.”

“The safety limiters have been removed. Follow your orders, Jenkins. Now!”

“Aye, sir.”

“Shutting down main drives. Routing all available power to the mainframe auxiliary control in Section 2. Wave impacting in 7 seconds, 6—5—,” called Robbie on the helm.

Steven’s perceptions suddenly sped and time itself seemed to slow. He saw everything around him as if it were in slow motion.

It was then that he noticed that Jenkins was staring at him. The fear in the young man’s eyes was total and complete. Jenkins had been the childhood friend of the President’s son, and he’d been traveling with the family when the transport picked them up in Rome, fifteen years ago.

Initially, the Challenger Deep Sea Base was to be the staging area from which the Avenger could be launched, but over time, it became a town, a city. After the attack, they all came to think of it as home. Families were now the norm, not the exception.

As for Avenger, her original designation, Columbus, she was to be a planetary exploration vessel—and while she was certainly capable of defending herself; her basic design was for that of scientific research.

"4—3—."

“Come on, Brooks!” whispered Steven.

“Shields are on line!” Mr. O’Brien shouted.

The wave hit, the lights dimmed, the alarms sounded. The wave buffeted Avenger violently, more violently then anyone believed she was capable of enduring.

Renee, forgive me for not coming home to you, thought Steven, his sadness overwhelming. Ashlyn, I’m sorry.

***

To the sound of an explosion, Ashlyn ordered the activation of the suit’s dampener field. She smiled, comforted, as she felt the dampener activate. As innocuous as it was, she hoped the explosion was the signal for which she had been waiting. She simulated a roll, until she could feel gravity pulling her feet first. She waited, knowing that an impact was coming, but unsure of what to expect. No one had ever told her whether a water landing was similar to that of landing on land. Would it be gentle or-

The jolt wrenched her hard. She heard the sound of the splash and her superheated suit interacting with the cold water. She mentally envisioned a plume of steam rising from the point where she had entered, not knowing if it was an accurate depiction. She had no idea how fast she had hit the surface, or of how deep she was. Would she sink, or would she float? Was the suit watertight? Did the nanotechnology have a sub-routine for a situation such as this? She didn’t know.

Within seconds, she heard the low-pitched hum of an approaching Sharkfin.

***

Even in what he believed to be the waning moments of his life, Steven searched for an avenue of escape. The warrior within him refused to surrender even when staring into the eyes of defeat. His determination induced his mind to release an enormous wave of adrenaline. The surge expanded his conscious mind a thousand fold. With profound clarity, he could see everything around him. He could see Avenger and the wave shaking her—and though he didn’t know what he could do to protect her, with every ounce of his being, he willed for Avenger to survive.

***

Ashlyn winced as Steven’s sorrow-driven adrenaline stabbed her consciousness from across the depths of space, stunning her as surely as if he had thrust a knife into her cerebral cortex.

From her world of darkness, Ash reached out, seeking the fringe of Steven’s mind. Through him, she saw Avenger’s turbulent shaking and loss of power. She saw the darkness engulf Steven, the ship’s gravity waning as Avenger’s structural integrity began to fail, torqued far beyond tolerance. She heard Avenger’s mournful wail that signaled her imminent death.

As the turbulence condemned him, Steven’s thoughts betrayed him. Ashlyn saw in his mind a collage of images, each attached to a heart wrenching emotion. She experienced them as if they were her own. She could feel Steven’s love for his wife, their shared moments of intimate happiness. She saw him laughing on the day they had been married and his eyes tearing during the birth of his children.

She saw everything about him—including the future that lay ahead of them, a vision of their destiny.

***

Such was the depth of his concentration that it took him a moment to realize that Ashlyn was standing beside him, watching him. Ashlyn! His heart sped. Seeing her standing beside him started a blazing fire within him. You—are so beautiful! In her eyes, he saw a woman that was tenacious, intelligent and compassionate. He also saw a twinkling calmness assuring him that everything was going to be all right.

“It looks as though I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar,” she said with a teasingly sexy smile and hint of a laugh. “I apologize for my intrusion, but in your distress, your mind summoned me to you.

First, let me say, you have no need to fear for Avenger or the lives of your crew. Our destiny, yours and mine, is starting to become clearer to me. I have glimpsed certain future events that for the time being, assure your safety. I believe the ability is one of the herculean gifts to which Tynabo alluded.

I thank you for sharing Tynabo’s recording with me. Even that small glimpse of the man I called father, has been a comfort.

As regards us, these last weeks apart have been extremely difficult. As much for you as they are for me. So please know that you have not been alone in your suffering.

In your mind, I also saw your desire to know exactly what it is that has been happening to you, to us, each night.

In short, what you see, I see. What you feel, I feel. The fugue is creating its own reality for us, albeit on a more esoteric plane. I think you will agree that there is nothing lost in the translation between the fugue—and a true physical reality.

However, as Tynabo had warned us, it is becoming harder each day to hold on. Each day apart for us becomes more unbearable. Because of this growing need, I fear it will not be long before the fugue creates situations that would be quite embarrassing, were they to happen in public. Because of this, I ask you not to delay your return to Sea Base any longer than necessary.

I am also aware of the personal hurdles that you face upon your return as regards Renee and your family, and that you are in desperate need of a solution. I want you to know that you do not bear this burden alone. You have my full support on any decision that you make. It will always be so.

Until we meet again—sweet dreams.” As Ashlyn’s image dissipated, her sensual smile stole his breath.

***

As the wave subsided, Avenger was left dark and serenely quiet. His heart was thumping out of his chest and the sound of it seemed to fill the entire bridge. Though Ashlyn’s image was gone, he held the visualization of her firmly in his mind. He didn’t completely understand how she was able to speak with him, but he now knew that the dreams were much more than he had thought them to be.

The bridge suddenly lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve, chimes and klaxons sounding everywhere. Nearly every instrument panel returned to life flashing a "System is Off-Line” alert.

Chief Preston entered through the Bridge doors, “Sorry for the scare, Admiral. Our shields were collapsing, so I turned off most of the ship’s internal systems and routed the power to the shields.”

“Well, it did the job. Good work, Chief!”

“Actually it wasn’t enough, sir. Not nearly.”

“I’m not following you,” said Steven.

“There was a massive energy surge that encompassed the whole ship. It only lasted a minute or so, but somehow, it reinforced the shields. It flat lined after the wave passed. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Where did the surge come from?”

“I have a team looking into it, Admiral. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Do what you can to track it down, Chief. Or I just might send you to bed without dinner tonight.”

“Wouldn’t want that. The galley is serving fish sticks tonight!” said Chief Preston with the exaggerated laugh of a man who had expected to die.

“The galley serves fish sticks every night!” said Steven as he came to realize in this moment of lightheartedness that it had been far too long since he had laughed.

“All stations, status report?” ordered Steven.

“Damage Control is doing a micro-fracture scan of the entire hull. Estimated time until completion is approximately six hours,” said Jenkins.

“Long range scans are all clear, sir,” reported radar. “The flagship is either gone or hidden behind the sun.”

The report from Mr. O’Brien came next, “Shields are down. Energy reserves are steady at .08 percent. Life support is non-operational until we’ve accumulated a 4 percent reserve. Most decks are dark. I recommend deploying the solar collectors until we can re-engage the Bussard scoop.

With life support down, it’s going to get mighty chilly in here. Gena’s calculations show that a stationary orbit about the sun at 14.3 million kilometers distance will negate the cold and give us maximum input to the fuel cells. We’ll need twelve hours to recharge the mains and an additional two for the reserves.”

“Very good,” said Steven. “Helm, follow Mr. O’Brien’s instructions and be sure to keep the sun between us and the flagship’s last known position.

Jenkins, how did we do with the radiation?”

“That’s the strange part, sir,” responded Jenkins. “The numbers don’t make sense. Outside, we’re glowing like the aurora borealis, but inside, there is almost nothing. I think it’s because of the energy surge Chief Preston was talking about. Somehow, it repelled the radiation. It’s really a stroke of luck that we’re alive.”

“Sometimes, luck is all we have,” responded Steven. “Start the external scrubbers when they come back on-line.”

Avenger’s med team entered onto the bridge, checking everyone out.

“How’s the crew?” Steven asked the nurse nearest him.

“No casualties. A few broken ribs from the containment fields. A broken arm or two, one concussion. Not bad, considering.

Are you all right, sir?” the nurse asked with genuine concern. “You’re really flushed”

“I’m fine. A bit tired. Nothing a little sleep won’t fix,” said Steven as he wiped away a layer of beaded sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his uniform. In truth, he felt ready to collapse.

The Bridge doors opened as Brooks and Casey returned. Steven spun his chair round, “Cut it kind of close didn't you?”

“Actually, we didn't know if it was going to work at all. That trick of yours to disable Gena’s safety-protocols took us a bit off-guard. Even the Chief didn't know about that one,” said Brooks with a heavy plop into his seat.

“Neither did I," said Steven in reply. "I just hoped Gena would obey an executive command, even if it did go counter to her programing.”

Brooks grinned broadly. “So, what are we doing about the flagship?”

“There isn’t much we can do until we recharge. My guess is that she’s dead. Nevertheless, I doubt she was able to escape the effects of the energy field dampening mines attached to her hull and still have the energy to formulate a jump, but if she did, tomorrow, when we’re up to full power, I’ll chase her all the way into hell if I have to!”

“Do you think Enlil is aboard the flagship?”

“I don’t think so. The strategy they used was sound, holding back and letting the fleet approach, but I think Enlil is too arrogant to have held back. First, he had no reason to believe that anyone was alive; next, he thinks we’re too inferior to be a threat. So, no. I don’t think so.

It was more the actions of a commander following protocols.”

“Sir?” Mr. O’Brien was standing before Steven looking as bewildered as a lost cat. “Sir, when we took the shields off-line, how did you know with such certainty that we weren’t going to have a hull breach?”

Steven grinned broadly, “I didn’t! I’m just a lucky liar!”

***

Sitting at the black-lacquer desk in his cabin, Steven leaned back and closed his eyes. “Computer, open log: New entry, day 290, 2288, 0800 hours. Six hours ago, we found the flagship adrift behind the sun. After stabilizing its rotation, the remote cams we sent aboard her have verified that her crew is dead.

To say that we were lucky is an understatement. When the fleet had jumped in-system, we caught the flagship off-guard—sneaking out of the sun’s chromosphere, we came up from behind her. As we had strategized, the magnetic energy field dampening mines had drained all of the ship’s power, stopping her from formulating a jump. With her shields down, Avenger’s cannons unleashed a hailstorm of armor piercing micro needles, each carrying a tiny cylinder of Neuron gas.

Her crew never knew what was killing them. The vessel’s last offensive move was launching the doomsday missile toward Earth, which was shot down by Ashlyn Parker, a pilot assigned to the groundside laser detail.”

Steven paused briefly as he thought of Ashlyn.

“Now that we have the enemy flagship in our possession, I can’t remember when I’ve seen the crew’s morale so high. Never have they been more boisterous.

Chief Engineer Preston has reported that it will take four to six weeks to repair the damage done to the enemy vessel before she’ll be fit for duty. To top it all off, just minutes ago, we received perhaps the best news of all. When Gena networked with the flagship’s computer, she instantly began translating and rewriting all of the ship’s programs into English. The ease of translation was something we hadn’t anticipated, but as life so often dictates, with every rising of the sun, a few clouds are set adrift.

We quickly discovered that even though the outward appearance of the flagship bears no resemblance to that of our own vessel, her tactical and operational systems are almost identical to Avenger’s, albeit on a much larger scale. However, since I’m not a believer in coincidence, I’ve assigned a team to search for an explanation to the anomaly.” Steven yawned. “Computer, end log.”

Seeing the golden-framed picture of Renee on the floor beside the desk, he bent over to pick it up. Holding it in his hands, he stared at the blue eyes that had captured his heart sixteen years before. His lips melted into a narrow smile.

Thinking of Renee, he admired her. Renee was soft, feminine, and yet, openly brash. She challenged authority when she believed her cause was just, and never would she ask anyone to do something that she wouldn’t willingly do herself.

The picture brought him back to the day when as a senior cadet, and just before graduation, he and six friends had gone to Paris on a five-day leave. It was on that trip that they acknowledged their unspoken feelings and confessed their love. “Eiffel,” said Steven. The tri-dimensional picture of Renee came to life, showing her standing at the railing of the Eiffel Tower, looking as beautiful and sexy as ever. Her long auburn hair was fluttering weightlessly in the breeze. Her face was delicately narrow, her neck slender. The red and white checkered, Italian peasant dress she was wearing accentuating her womanly figure and as if it were a beacon of his desire, a ray of sunlight bathed her round cleavage.

Bursting with excitement, knowing that it was Steven’s first trip to France, she pointed to the Seine, below. Her spirit was infectious, and he felt the exuberance of a child seeing Disneyland for the first time.

Smiling, Ren then turned toward the camera, gave her all-consuming gaze and smile, and did a twirl for him in her dress.

“Eiffel, freeze.” Steven grinned in response to his good timing. He always tried to stop her twirl at that particular moment, for amidst her twirl; a gust of wind had caught her dress and lifted it, revealing her long legs and panty-less bottom. The view was a memorable tease. Among friends, it had been an ongoing joke between them. Steven claiming she had done it on purpose—Renee, blushingly claiming she had forgotten to pack her panties.

It was hard for Steven to believe that so many years had passed. It seemed like only yesterday that they had married. Yet, through all they had endured, she had been his support, his fortress of solitude. As Steven became lost to his memories, he knew that she was a woman worthy of a king’s ransom, and yet, all she had ever asked for was his heart.

Just hours before, having lifted the communications blackout, he had spoken to Renee. It wasn’t a surprise that Renee wanted to discuss, Ashlyn. Renee told him the story of the missile that Ashlyn had destroyed and her suited free-fall from space into the ocean. She also stated that the two of them had become good friends over the last months.

It worried him that he might soon have to be in the same room with the two of them at the same time. He didn’t trust himself to act rationally, his every thought of Ashlyn intoxicating him.

After nearly two full days without sleep, Steven should have been anxious to get some rest, but as he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, his only thoughts were of Ashlyn, knowing she was about to come to him.

Chapter 6

With the destruction of Enlil’s fleet, the element of surprise now on his side, Steven ordered that Avenger be ready to set sail for the Sirius B system in thirty-six hours. As the crew prepped and restocked Avenger for the extended journey, Steven took a shuttle groundside to see his family.

Walking the corridors at Sea Base, he contemplated what lay ahead. His heart was racing in anticipation of this moment, picturing how he would sweep Renee into his arms and kiss her madly while the kids tugged at his uniform. After all the weeks away, it felt good to be home again.

As the door to his cabin slid aside, he found Renee in the living room, asleep on the sofa. Steven gave a quiet smile, for it was obvious that she had tried to wait up for him. Clutched loosely in her left hand was her antique Harry Potter novel, her finger still marking the spot where she had stopped reading.

Seating himself in the chair across from her, Steven studied the gracefully sweeping lines of her body. She lay still, only the provocative points of her nipples moving beneath the white-pearl silk of her negligee as they rose and fell with each tender breath. The mere memory of her touch quickened his pulse and started his blood pumping.

Renee’s fair complexion and auburn hair made a fitting backdrop for her. As he contemplated waking her, Renee shifted her positon, turning slightly toward him. A slit in her negligee that ran down its length, slowly began to open, sliding away from her towards the floor. A shapely, squared calf gave way to soft, trim thighs. The slide of the negligee stopped just as it began to reveal a tiny hint of fine hair covering the rise of her mound. His groin tightened, his mouth watering as his tongue feigned a stab, recalling times past.

He remembered the night when he had made his big announcement to Renee about his commission to take command of a new Class 9 ship and the almost completed, Challenger Deep Sea Base. That evening, Steven had taken Renee out for a candlelight dinner at Poseidon’s Sea Food Grotto. The restaurant was a retired Class 3 Nautilus submarine that some enterprising entrepreneur had turned into a luxurious, Five Star tourist trap. Submerged up to the base of its conning tower, it sat on a brilliantly lit coral reef in Hanauma Bay, east of Honolulu.

Having made reservations for the private Admiral’s Quarters, Steven played the occasion for all it was worth. After they’d enjoyed a bottle of Pierre Gimonnet and Fils and eaten a light but fancy lobster dinner—the waiter returned, presenting Renee with a covered, silver-platter of what she expected to be her favorite dessert; strawberries, deep-fried bananas and ice cream.

Instead, when he lifted the lid, she was surprised to see a decorative oyster shell with a starfish shaped napkin atop it. On the tip of the napkin, lay a diamond solitaire, engagement ring.

Kneeling on the floor next to Renee, he gently took the ring and placed it on her finger. Renee looked up and with tears in her eyes that sparkled like the diamond in the ring, she softly whispered, “Yes.” She then picked up the napkin, looked Steven square in the face and threw it at him. “You could have at least said the words you big lug!”

Her eyes suddenly lit up with understanding, “They gave you your own Sub Command! That’s why you picked this place!”

Steven nodded, yes and shook his head, no. “Sort of—she’s a bit more than a sub. She’s a Class 9 Nautilus. The first of her kind,” he said proudly. “She’s not quite finished, but they want me to oversee the final stages of her construction. Her name is, Columbus.”

“Columbus? An exploration vessel?—Space exploration?” said Renee, incredulously—putting the pieces together.

Steven nodded. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

Renee threw her arms around his neck.

“President Tomlinson said that when she’s ready next month, he’ll be there to inaugurate her personally. He handpicked me to command her.

In the meantime, we’ll be stationed at a base nearby. I’ll tell you more once we’re en route. I’m under orders not to share the location details until after we’ve set sail. And—”

“And—” Ren repeated, with a sly gleam in her eyes.

“I picked you to be one of my officers!” added Steven.

“I see, and what if I would’ve said no to marrying you!” she said as she glanced at the ring.

“Then I would’ve ordered you to marry me!”

“Sooo, Captain? Every time you want your way, you’re just going to make it an official order?”

“Absolutely! Admiral’s privilege,” said Steven as he began to unbutton her blouse.

“Admiral? They promoted you to Admiral?”

Steven nodded.

“Wow! Sooo—what is my assigned position to be, sir?”

“Hmm, how about we start on the table, then on the chair, then-”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said poking him in the tummy.

As he unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor, “Oh, you mean your assigned post?” said Steven with a chuckle. “You’ll head-up the Naval Science Department. You’ll have a full team under you, and you can go into your specialty, Biochemistry. That is what you’d always wanted, right?”

He was happier for her than he was for himself. From the first day they had met four years ago, she had wanted to be a Biochemist, studying the chemical composition of living organisms on a molecular level. It had been her dream.

Excited beyond words, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed him against the wall, the heat and softness of her bare breasts exciting him.

“Congratulations, Captain,” said Steven.

“Captain?” said Renee, taken aback.

“It comes with the job description.”

After a rib breaking hug, “And what are your orders for me now, sir?” asked Ren as she unzipped his pants and grabbed his swollen cock.

“It seems you have a firm grasp on the situation, Captain! I defer to your judgment on how to solve the problem,” said Steven suggestively.

“It’s a mighty big problem! I might need to work on this one all night!” said Ren as she knelt before him and circled the head of his shaft with her tongue. “By the way, I never did get dessert. I hope it’s still coming?” she said sensually, just before she engulfed him and began to slide up and down his length.

“Oh, yeah—it’s coming!”

A second later, “Ouch. You bit me,” said Steven looking down at her.

“Just reminding you who’s really in charge, Admiral.”

***

A soft tremor, an after-effect of the gravitational changes from the destroyed Moon, roused Renee. For Steven, the timing was impeccable. Seeing Steven seated in the swivel chair across from her, she rose and crossed the room to him. Standing sensually before him, she unfastened the thin string tie about her waist. The white negligee fell open and liquidly slid off her shoulders to the floor.

Naked, she knelt before him and slowly unfastened the buttons of his uniform. Undoing his belt, she exposed him. Seeing his readiness, a raised eyebrow echoed her own need. Damned it’s so big—bigger than I’ve ever seen it before, Renee said to herself.

His size inflamed her. Looking up at him, “You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this,” she said while squeezing his cock tightly, the tip of his shaft resting against her lips.

“I think I do!” answered Steven as his hands settled behind her head, ready to coax her ever deeper onto him.

His absence had made Renee realize for the first time, that her desire to taste him was more than a want—it was a need, an addiction. The last two months had been far harder than she had expected they would be—she had never separated his physical presence from her being sexually satisfied. When she had one, she had the other.

Now, though she had missed him terribly, her craving to taste him was unnaturally strong. Each day had become noticeably harder than the one before. Her need was consuming her, her extreme desperation controlling her every thought.

Holding him, her fingers unable to wrap around his shaft, she knew he was bigger than she had ever seen him before. Her lips took intense delight in the heat radiating off him—her mouth watering in anticipation.

“Happy fortieth birthday, Admiral, prepare to be boarded.”

***

Morning had come all too soon for such a sleepless night, but what a night it was. Renee had ravaged him as never before.

“You’ve got to get up, bum. You’re late,”

Rising naked from the bed, Steven watched as she went to the closet and quietly proceeded to lay out his navy-blue dress formal, nice and tidy, right down to the black polished boots at the foot of the bed.

Seating herself next to him on the edge of the bed. “Should I get you a wheelchair or do you still have some strength left in those legs?”

Steven admired her, for to be a military wife was no easy task and for the single day that he was going to be home, he wished he could have spent every second of it with her and the family. As usual though, a number of items were demanding attention.

“I guess you won’t be needing breakfast,” said Steven, teasing her. “You must be stuffed.”

“Up to my tonsils—but don’t get too relaxed, it’s almost lunchtime,” said Renee suggestively as she ran a pair of walking fingers down his chest, stopping atop his hardening cock.

“It certainly is!” said Steven friskily grabbing Ren’s wrists and pulling her down beside him. Rolling over atop her, he playfully tickled her ribs, making her scream out for mercy.

Gently brushing back the hair from her face, he seductively traced her lips with his finger, “I could serve lunch now?” His brow raised expectant of an affirmative answer.

“I know, I can feel you throbbing against my clit,” said Ren. She desperately wanted to say, yes. His size was immense, his hardness unimaginable—like never before. She felt a heart palpitating giddiness.

She caught the tip of his finger between her teeth and began nibbling on it. “Damn, that cock of yours makes it hard to say, no. But somebody has to be the adult here—go get showered and get out of here. You’re already late. So stow it, sailor.”

With a quick peck on her nose, Steven hopped up.

Staring into the mirror on his dresser, he saw just how much the stress of war had changed him. Though he had just turned forty, the K9 serum that he’d received on his 24th birthday had dramatically slowed his aging. On this day however; the cleft in his chin was sharper than he remembered; his silver-blue eyes deeper set; the line of his jaw more chiseled. Though he was six foot three in height and his physique was strong and muscled, he had grown leaner in the last years. Even with the serum, the years of struggling to survive had taken its toll.

Though Steven had returned home wearing a mask of sallow weariness, inside he felt invigorated—the result of a long night of Renee’s wagging tongue.

Renee came up behind him and applied the finishing touch to his uniform, straightening out the crinkles. Putting her hand atop his crotch, “Good, at least you won’t look like you’re hiding a cannon in there.”

Steven grinned. At the same moment, he began to sense something. It had been there since he had stepped through the airlock at the base, but it had been so subtle that he had subconsciously chosen to ignore it. Now—it permeated the air with an intense ferocity.

Spinning Steven round to face her, “I know I’ve told you a lot about Ashlyn, but now that you’re about to meet her for the first time …” she paused a moment, fastening the last button on the collar of his uniform, “I want to warn you that she dresses, well, ultra-provocatively!”

“How provocatively?” said Steven, exaggeratedly widening his eyes.

Ren punched him playfully in the arm. “Just be prepared! The concept of modesty isn’t in her genetic encoding. For her, being clothed is like putting on a bracelet, it’s merely an accessory, an optional fashion choice. So as you can imagine, her clothes tend to be scanty.

I’m not complaining—I actually like it. There’s an honesty to her liberated behavior that everyone—including me, finds incredibly refreshing. In fact, if you want me to dress that way—I’d consider it. I just wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. Anyway, just let me know.

Just be warned, when you see her, don’t let your head get all f’d up.”

“Someday, you’re going to say that word,” Steven teased. She’d never been one to use vulgarities and that was as close as he had ever seen her come. “You are insanely cute when you’re jealous,” added Steven as he gave her a kiss on the forehead and a quick playful slap on her bare butt. “And don’t worry, that mouth of yours f’d my head enough last night to last me a week.” He stuck his tongue out at her.

Reaching the door, he turned to look at her once again.

“I’ll never say it,” she jested back, sticking her tongue out at him. “I love you Steven Sherrah—hurry home,” she said as she playfully raised a knee and wrapped it around the doorway, hugging it like it were a dancer’s strip-pole.

“You sure you don’t want lunch now?” he offered.

With an exchange of smiles, he exited to the corridor outside his cabin.

Though he had not let on, Renee’s words about Ashlyn’s lack of attire had stirred the fire. He could only assume it was an exaggeration. A flood of adrenaline was racing through him. His anxiousness to see Ashlyn was making him apprehensive of what the encounter might bring.

Of good news, Renee had informed him that Sea Base’s regenerator had helped Ashlyn to regain her sight. She was a hero to the people at a time when heroes were needed. The story of the woman who had braved the debris of Earth’s exploded Moon would live for a thousand generations, if not to eternity.

Yet, for Steven it held an infinitely, deeper meaning—for his family was still alive and for that alone, he would be forever indebted to her.

Ordering Gena’s ever-listening ear to hold the next arriving shuttle, Steven tried to focus on the matters at hand. Fashionably late was one thing, but he was now stretching the bonds of social acceptability, especially considering that the surprise event to award Ashlyn a medal in recognition of her heroism had been scheduled at his request.

For Ashlyn, the timing of the ceremony was perfect. Like Steven, it was also her birthday, though due to stasis, she had only physically aged but a few days in sixteen years.

As he stepped into the shuttle, “Gena, proceed directly to Stop 20.”

Swaying in harmony to the shuttle’s gentle motion as it made its way through the connecting tubes between domes, Steven mindlessly watched the running lights of vessels as they went about their assigned tasks outside.

With each meter the shuttle traveled, the sweetness he’d noticed in the air grew thicker. It overwhelmed his senses and filled his mind with images of Ashlyn.

The shuttle slowed with its smooth familiarity as Gena announced his arrival at Stop 20, the Conference Center. Stepping out into the brightly lit corridor, Steven found himself standing before two heavily armed security personnel. Regrettably, their presence had been required after the initial attack on Earth.

Just after the first devastating blow, several people became psychotic, believing unequivocally that the genocidal attack was man’s recompense for his evil ways. Furthermore, by surviving, they somehow believed that God had been cheated out of his rightful due. The result had been a number of suicides and three acts of attempted sabotage, one of which came very close to destroying them all.

Steven found it strange that people could base their faith upon a God that while powerful enough to create the entire universe—suddenly needed the help of a lone individual to destroy dissident humankind. The fallacy of their belief was evidenced by the simple fact that they, even as God’s so-called tool—repeatedly failed to complete his work. Such has been the proof through the millennia of man’s history—one more reason why Steven was now devoid of anything resembling faith.

The guards greeted Steven with a formal salute, the clicking of heels and the thuds of L-96 pulse rifles dropping to their sides.

“You’re relieved. As of now, sentry duty is officially at an end.” Steven believed it was time to look to the future with optimism and if it couldn’t be done, then what were they all fighting for anyway?

Pausing one-step shy of the pressure sensitive flooring that would activate the opening of the doors, Steven stole a quick breath. He wished he knew of a way to control the desires that were stalking him, but he’d sooner be able to stop the flow of a river with his bare hands.

Upon entering the auditorium, the guards behind him darted off to find seating. An unending round of applause, whistles and cheering of Steven’s name, showed the enthusiasm of all in attendance. Morale was through the roof after their recent victory.

After squelching the cheers and asking everyone to be seated, Steven gave a few minutes commendation for the hard work that everyone had done to make the victory possible. He also said a few words in recognition of Ensign Jackson, for his sacrifice.

After which, it was time for the honors to be given.

Knowing he was about to meet Ashlyn, the ionized air around him thick and warm, he felt as though he were drowning in a pool of hot, maple syrup.

“Wars aren’t won by the might of nations, they’re won upon the blood and courage of the common man—or woman, and it is because this woman was so unselfishly willing to risk her own life that we are able to be gathered here today. I am obviously speaking of Ashlyn Parker.

Wherever you are out there, I ask that you please join me on the podium.”

The moment had arrived. He stood transfixed, gazing into the audience, scanning for her face. “Don’t try hiding; I know Commander Stratton conjured up some lame excuse to get you here today.” Amid the chuckles from the audience, Steven’s attention was pulled to the upper, shadowed rows in the back of the auditorium. People were rising and it was with a thunderous applause that they honored their hero.

“Wow, and she’s humble too! Come on down Seaman Parker, you’ve earned this.” The whistles and cheers rose to a deafening crescendo as she reluctantly made her way through the congratulatory crowd. When Steven finally caught sight of her, he froze. A shudder ran down his spine. His mind balked. My God!

When last he’d seen her, she was still badly bruised, much of her body bandaged, but now her perfection was so profoundly overwhelming that Steven had trouble accepting that she was even real. There was no doubt but that she was the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the planet. From the ground up, she was a masterpiece of erotic art.

Renee’s warning about Ashlyn’s provocative attire had been an understatement of immeasurable proportions. Visually, Ashlyn was a temple—a shrine unto herself that didn’t need golden candelabras to inspire reverence. What little clothing there was—beautiful as it was—only detracted from her mesmerizing, womanly figure.

Other than a floor-length, black cape that hung back of her shoulders and her knee-high, black stiletto boots, the only other clothing she wore was a two-piece, body-necklace. It consisted of a delicate chain of silver, interspersed with tiny aquamarine crystals.

The top necklace circled her neck several times forming a tantalizing choker. From there, a single strand came forward on each side, crisscrossing over her breasts. Clasped to the point where the strands crossed, hung Tynabo’s silver locket. Its inlaid stone was pulsating with blue and white swirling energy.

Where the necklace touched each areola, several scalloped strands coddled her breasts, tauntingly revealing her nipples.

The bottom necklace was a single strand that rode atop her hips. It came forwards, swooping low below her belly button. At the point where the two ends met, hung a swath of swaying strands that gave a teasing visage of a thin layer of sculpted, black hair and titillating skin.

His mouth watered. He was not and could not have prepared himself for this moment. He wished his first meeting with her had not been in public.

With each step down the stairs, her body screamed for attention—and like himself, everyone in the room was hypnotized, if not by her face, then by any of the other sensually alluring, bobbing, jiggling and swaying views. The audience was her captive. He could have blasted a hole in the dome and drowned them all and they would not have noticed.

As the distance between them closed, Steven’s confidence that he could resist her, waned. His eyes raced over her. His heart wanted to explode out of his chest. How can anyone do anything besides stare and drool when they are around you?

The eye-popping outfit was the perfect complement for her lightly tanned skin, sparkling silver-blue eyes, narrow waist and midnight black hair.

Not a single detail was different from that which was etched into his memory. From the playful twinkle in her eyes, to her pointedly arched eyebrows. From her delicately narrow nose, to the swoopy French flair of her rosy red lips.

On her ears and wrists, she wore earrings and bracelets that matched the silver body-necklace.

Ashlyn’s hair was loosely pinned-up, fastened into a long ponytail with delicate, soft curls. A scant few, delicately escaping wisps of hair were dancing sensually around her face.

As Ashlyn’s long stride of confidence and class brought her before him, they exchanged formal salutes. Their eyes locked, the pain in Steven’s lungs bringing him to the realization that he had been holding his breath. With Ashlyn standing before him, Steven now had the answer to the source of the intoxicating aroma that had captured his senses from the first moment he had arrived at Sea Base. It was Ashlyn.

“I am greatly honored,” said Steven addressing her with a slight bow.

Throwing a glance to the standing audience and then back to Ashlyn, his eyes involuntarily lowering to her breasts, his mouth spoke the thoughts in his heart, “Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.”

Ashlyn smiled shyly. The audience laughed.

“I hate being sixteen. Crazy teenage hormones,” teased Steven. Gathering himself, “It’s now time to address why we’re gathered here today.”

Turning to Ashlyn, “But first, you have my sincere apology for jesting at your expense.”

“Apology accepted,” said Ashlyn tipping her head.

“Let it be duly noted that this plaque that herein bears the name of Ashlyn Parker, will as of this day, be placed in our Museum’s Hall of Honor. And, as has been reserved for those whom over the last centuries have displayed courage above and beyond the call of duty, she is hereby awarded the Medal of Honor.”

With a salute, he congratulated her. As he stared into the depths of her eyes, a distant look clouded her face. Her brow furrowed, her gaze changing to one of deep concern. Steven felt an ominous foreboding welling-up within him. So overpowering was the emotion that his knees nearly buckled. Instinctively, his eyes lowered to the ground to catch his balance. The ground met his gaze with a swirling vortex. Entrapped, he succumbed to its power.

A kaleidoscope of images unfolded, the most prominent were those that resonated with the strongest, emotional attachment. He saw Renee crying, his son terrified and screaming. He saw himself setting Avenger’s autodestruct. He saw Ashlyn beguilingly walking toward him, unfastening her blouse with each step, carnal desire upon her lips—on an alien world.

Only when several horrifying images appeared did it break the vision. He had seen Ashlyn’s body, torn and shredded, lying lifeless upon the ground—in the next image he saw himself sitting beside her rock covered grave, weeping.

As he returned to the surroundings of the Conference Center, he stared into the audience and saw that they were unmoving, frozen in time. As the milliseconds passed, the people slowly awakened.

Unlike his time in the fugue with Ashlyn each night, wherein hours of time moved quickly—now, not a single moment of time had elapsed.

Not daring to look at Ashlyn, for fear he might again lose himself to her, he continued in perfect sync upon the moment at hand. “The Medal of Honor is the most prestigious honor that an individual can be awarded!

To go along with this honor, I would also like to acknowledge that even though she has only been with us for a short time and that it would only be under the rarest of circumstances—an individual can sometimes be deserving of a promotional jump in rank that doesn’t follow the typical and expected rungs in the ladder. So it is, as regards Ashlyn Parker, that a jump of this nature has been deemed deserving.

Besides her heroism, she has displayed the skills, knowledge and ability to make command decisions. It is also undeniable that she has earned the respect for which the position calls. Therefore, as is engraved upon this plaque and based upon the unanimous recommendation of her superiors that have witnessed firsthand the events that have brought us to this moment, I now promote her to the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

She is hereby charged with overseeing Avenger’s fighter squadrons. As she acclimates to her new position, I ask that you give her the support she needs to step into her new role, for we owe her more than our lives, we owe her our eternal gratitude!”

In giving salute, his eyes betrayed his longing for her. “Commander, we are all indebted to you.”

“At-t-tennn-tion!” Commander Stratton called out to the gathered officers and crew.

A barrage of whispers, giggles and smiles from the audience awoke Steven to the reality of his predicament—his enviable task of finding a socially acceptable spot on which to pin her medal.

His nervousness apparent to everyone, Ashlyn decided to offer him an avenue of escape, if only a tenuous one. Holding out her open palm to him, “If you don’t mind, I’ll do it myself. The way you’re shaking, I could end up losing my virginity to the world’s smallest prick!”

Her comment was so unexpected that the audience roared.

Steven dropped the medal into her hand.

Tipping her head back and forth to the left and right, as if she were searching for something, she glanced glaringly down at his crotch for all to see, “Apologies, sir, if you thought I was talking about you? It was clearly an easy mistake to make.”

After riotous laughter, some to the point of tears, Steven gave her the credit she was due. “Touché, Commander. Touché.”

Bowing her head to him, “Then you have my sincere apology for jesting at your expense. I’d be honored, sir.” Ashlyn, began swinging the medal back and forth, teasing him to take it.

As he put his hand out, she dropped it into his open palm. Ashlyn then lifted the necklace over her left breast, adding, “Damn the torpedoes—full speed ahead, sir!”

The laughter turned to an enormous cheer.

Involuntarily, his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. Since she had stepped up to the podium, a feverish heat had been racing through him, boiling his blood to the point where he had completely forgotten about Tynabo’s warning. If it were not for the eyes of the audience upon him, he would have relented to the overwhelming desire to sweep her into his arms. It would have been easy. Too easy.

After clipping the medal to her necklace, he stepped back, and gave her a salute, “Commander, I congratulate you!”

The applause was thunderous.

“Crew dismissed!” announced Commander Stratton to the audience.

Steven took a few steps back, giving ground to those who wanted to congratulate her, which was everyone.

Stratton stepped up, wanting to speak with Steven privately. “Sir. Sorry to interrupt, and if I may be so bold as to get a bit personal—now that you’re back at Sea Base, I just wanted to make sure that you’ve taken the vial that Tynabo left for you? Admittedly, not knowing, I was quite concerned.”

Steven grimaced. “It broke when the shockwave hit Avenger. I’ll be going to see Victor when I leave here. I’m hoping he can do something.”

“Then my concern was founded,” said Stratton. “You were very close to her, too close. It was an unnecessary risk. Would you like me to stay with you?”

Steven realized the truthfulness in his words. Stratton was right. He’d been so intoxicated by Ashlyn that he’d not thought of the vile even once. “You’re right, Stratton. I won’t make the mistake again. I’ll be okay; I know what’s at stake. I promise to keep her at arm’s length from now on.”

“No disrespect, sir—but it’s not your arm I’m worried about!” Stratton’s grin conveyed his apprehension.

Steven smiled. “Stratt—how’s Earth holding up? Have we suffered any damage from the Moon?”

Stratton gave a twisted grin. “Topside, things are pretty extreme.

Obviously, lots of impacts from the debris around the globe. There have been thousands of major quakes, hundreds of thousands of small ones. The Yellowstone caldera is registering greatly increased activity. Gena is unclear at this time as to its stability.

Land temperatures have risen by an average of 3-degrees. Some regions are getting colder, some warmer. There are fires everywhere, driven by hurricane force winds—lots of rain and flooding.

Tsunamis are racing round the globe. In most coastal regions, you can’t even tell that a city had ever been a there. It’s all gone.

For the most part, it’s hard to tell that the surface was ever inhabited.

Down here, there have been quite a few landslides on the walls of the trench, none of which are close enough to be threatening to us. We have the domes dampeners set to maximum as a protective measure. So far, we’re doing okay. No significant damage to report.

Reactor levels are optimal.

Gena’s charting everything. We should have a better handle on where things will settle in at in a few weeks. Whatever happens—base scuttlebutt seems to agree that it was worth it. We took that bastard’s fleet out.” With a sigh, “Anything else, sir?”

Steven shook his head. “Thanks, Stratt. You did great.”

“As did you, sir,” Throwing a glance in Ashlyn’s direction, “Please be careful, sir. We need you!” Stratton smiled, nodded and then departed.

While Steven nervously waited for Ashlyn, he couldn’t help but trace every rounded curve, every nook and cranny of her. The necklace hid nothing—yet accentuated everything. His mind was ablaze with passion. His body screaming to take her.

Maybe Stratton should have stayed. Internally, he was at war with his decision, a big part of him wanted to be alone with her for all the wrong reasons.

At length, when the last person finally excused himself and Ashlyn turned to face Steven, “Congratulations, Commander,” said Steven anxious to quickly break down the walls of his nervousness. “Awarding you the medal was a great privilege, Ashlyn. I am honored.”

“Thank you, sir. I am appreciative. Part of this really belongs to you though. It was in your mind that I saw it was a doomsday missile. If not for that, I wouldn’t have known to try and stop it.”

Steven shook his head, “It’s all yours. You did the heavy lifting Ash—and please, drop the formal protocols when we’re alone. The intimacy we’ve shared within the fugue shattered that formality two months ago.”

“Yes—it did.

Steven, I’d like to apologize if my banter was an embarrassment to you? I meant no disrespect.”

“No apology necessary. The only embarrassment was my own. I hung myself out like a piñata and handed you the stick. After my jesting, you had every right to whack the living daylights out of me. And I must admit, you succeeded in grand style,” said Steven, quickly continuing, “If anything, I owe you an apology. I just wasn’t ready …” his eyes raced round each and every curve, “for you. When I saw you walking toward me I really did feel like I was sixteen again, complete with raging hormones. I reacted, childishly. I couldn’t stop myself.”

Ashlyn smiled sweetly. Not wanting him to bear the responsibility alone, “That childish side is a normal part of the male psyche. There’s a part of every man that never grows up. He’s forever that little eight year old boy or sixteen year old in your case,” said Ashlyn. “Women learn to live with it, and sometimes—we find it downright sexy.

Perhaps I’m also to blame for your reaction. After all our time in the fugue together, I didn’t realize that my attire would affect you as strongly as it did. If you prefer me to dress-”

“It’s not the attire,” said Steven interrupting her. “It’s what’s under the attire—and—not under it. It’s you.” His eyes lowered, shifting left, then right, then back again, staring at her nipples that were peaking at him from between the strands. His groin tightened, he was throbbing with desire and need. “But, no, Ashlyn—though my opinion is definitely biased—I don’t want you to dress differently.” Hell, I want to rip off what you are wearing. “I don’t want you to change a thing. It’s who you are.

Personally—yes, I find your necklace to be daringly sexy and unrestrained. But, I also see it as an exquisitely beautiful statement. You’ve reminded all of us that there’s more to being human than making strategic battle plans and following sterile regulations.

You’re a rainbow in a world that is as repetitious as fifty shades of gray.

I’m not saying that men won’t be men. They will. They’ll stare, drool and think about doing all sorts of crazy things. After all, we’re human, I’m human.” If you only knew the crazy things, I’d like to do to you right now.

“And I you.”

Steven cocked his head, “Did you just-?”

“Uh-huh, I hear everything you’re thinking. I thought it fair to tell you. I’ve been trying to filter it, so as not to impede upon your privacy, but some of your thoughts are just to—visual. It won’t be long before you can block it though. This is a learning experience for both of us.”

“I’m sorry, Ash.” He thought back, recalling all the bendy, uninhibited things he’d pictured doing to her and felt a flush of embarrassment. Things that most men can’t even tell their wives.

“No reason to be embarrassed. I want you to do all those bendy things to me. It’s flattering.”

“Ash, how come I can’t read your mind?”

“I think it’s by design, part of my empathic, nurturing abilities. I’m glad you can’t though,” she chided with a broad smile. “Then I’d be embarrassed, because you’d see all the bendy things I want to do to you.”

I’d love to see that list, Steven thought.

“You’ll do more than see it,” she bantered.

Though Steven was feverish with desire, he continued on, “Ash, it’s important that you understand how important you are to us. Infinitely important. I saw it reflected in the wide smiles and bright, sparkling eyes of the faces tonight. For the first time since the attack sixteen years ago—they were happy.

You rekindled a fire in us that died a long time ago. Tynabo was right when he compared you to Pandora. You’ve brought hope back to us.”

Ashlyn tilted her head slightly, “That’s a lot to live up to.”

“It is, Ash—the pedestal we’ve put you on is tall and it casts an even bigger shadow. But, you need to realize that it’s because they believe in you. I believe in you. My advice—stay true to you. You‘re a leader that everyone will follow,” said Steven. “It’s more than a want; they need you to stay the way you are.

And if I may—I want you—to stay the way you are.” I want to feel your body beneath me so badly.

Ashlyn saw the full depth of the meaning behind his words. “Thank you—and—no more than I want to be beneath you.” Her words letting him know that he was not alone in his desires.

Steven, before we tackle the big question before us—if you’ll indulge me, I have something I’d like to show you.” Ashlyn glanced behind her to see if they were alone—and just as she did so, the auditorium door closed behind the last person leaving.

“All right,” said Steven, nervously apprehensive, his eyes racing over her.

“Gena, lock the auditorium doors, please. Over-ride ability is to be given to myself and the Admiral only, with the Admiral’s consent of course.” Ashlyn raised a playful, questioning eyebrow to Steven.

“So ordered,” said Steven, even as he felt himself pole-vaulting over a threshold he’d hoped not to cross. He was trapped, unable to take his eyes off her.

“Auditorium doors are now locked,” confirmed Gena.

“Now that you’ve got me, right where I want you!” said Ash with a broad smile. “Gena, activate the privacy blackout for the exterior of the dome and then start holo-program, Night-Dreams.”

As the clear palladium-glass dome went dark outside, providing them alone time, the internal lights dimmed—revealing the first and brightest of the early evening stars. Within moments, the sky transformed into a warmly painted sunset of purple, orange, blue and pink, silhouetting a layering of white clouds on the western horizon.

In the background, the crashing waves of a light surf began to grow louder, closer. A seagull squawked in the distance. The walls, floor and furniture of the conference room suddenly shimmered out of existence becoming a lush South Pacific island. Crystal-clear water and white-frothing waves lapped against the shore as a trio of gulls sailed casually on the breeze above them.

Steven stood in amazement, feeling the warm, salt scented breeze whisking against his face. Turning to Ashlyn, he saw that her arms were out to her sides, her eyes closed. She was basking, taking in the warm breeze that was soothing her skin. Her cape and ponytail were fluttering behind her. The palm tree fronds were swaying back and forth as was the grass bowing rhythmically before the waves of gentle wind.

The fine, white sand beneath his feet shifted, scrunching under his weight. He knelt and scooping up a handful of sand, let it sift between his fingers. It had a natural, grainy texture and even some captured warmth from the sun. No detail was lacking, no nuance missing. It had all the ambiance of a real beach, a real ocean.

It stirred a distant childhood memory within him. When he looked to his left, and saw a log lolling in the surf, a smile came to his face. “It’s Fiji—I was here when I was a kid. There was-” Steven started walking toward the log. Just as he remembered, snagged in a piece of fishing-net on the other side was a small sea turtle. Steven’s mouth fell open.

“Ashlyn, how did you do this?” he said, turning to look at her. She was smiling at him through the most sensually alluring eyes he had ever seen.

Everything about you is amazing.

Turning back to the snagged turtle, Steven knelt and after freeing it from the fishing-net, he carried the turtle out into the water. Giving it a gentle push, he watched it swim away into the deeper, almost glowing, turquoise colored water. When he saw it dive below the surface, he smiled. It was exactly the way it happened before, when he was nine. Steven was dumbfounded. “Ash, this virtual re-enactment, how did you do it?”

“To explain this,” said Ashlyn, spinning a circle and extending her arms so that she encompassed the entire scene around them. “One night, when I came to you, I saw all of this in your dream. You had the biggest grin on your face. You were such a cute, little boy. Being able to see you then, was a blessing.

Then late one night, I was searching the storage dome for the materials to make a few outfits and I came across an inventory list that showed there were some advanced interactive holo-units gathering dust in storage. Apparently, they were part of the original design for the auditorium, but the attack interrupted things and they were never installed. I made a pet project out of it. Once installed, it was just a matter of giving Gena access to my memory of this moment and having her download it into the unit and voila, you have paradise.

This is my gift to you.”

Chapter 7

“Steven, I wish this moment could last forever. I do …” Ashlyn seemed to slip away, lost in thought as she watched a large, crashing wave strike a rock just off shore, “but we have important matters to discuss.”

Steven took a deep breath preparing himself for the conversation that he’d known was coming.

Ash continued, “Right now, time is our enemy and you have important decisions to make.

When the time comes that we have our first …” Ashlyn paused as she fought to find the words.

Steven decided to fill in the gap, quoting directly from Tynabo, “Intimate contact.”

“Yes, intimate contact,” she parroted. “For as deep as our passions are now, they’ll expand a hundredfold.”

“That might just kill me,” said Steven with more seriousness than jest. His attention was drawn to Ashlyn’s inner thighs as he heard the long, swaying, lower strands of Ashlyn’s body-necklace softly clinking together, blown off to the side by the wind.

Seeing his distraction, “If it helps, I’m as desirous of you as you are of me.” Without her even realizing it, so inherent was her need to please him that she shifted her weight onto one leg, and kicking the other leg out to the side, she widened her stance, opening herself to him.

“That’s not possible,” responded Steven as he smacked his lips in automated response to seeing the small flap of skin in the gap between her soft, plumped folds.

“Well, I am. I quiver all over at the mere thought of having you inside my-” she paused, her tongue darting between her lips. “Just—take my word for it.”

Though her words were meant to be supportive, seeing Ashlyn basting her lips heightened his desires immensely. Desperately in need of distraction, he sought out answers, “Ash, when you appeared to me aboard Avenger, you said that our encounters were real.”

“In all the important ways, they are. What the mind experiences in the fugue, the body perceives as reality. What is actually happening though is that our physical auras are empowering a conduit between our minds to open. When the conduit is open, the metaphysical reality tries to satisfy the body’s physical needs and the mind’s desires. So for all practical purposes, it is real. It’s just on a heightened plane that other people can’t experience in their isolated singular consciousness.”

Steven sighed, “About what Tynabo said, am I really a creation of the Foundation?”

“Steven, didn’t you access the private files on the recorder?”

“Private files? I didn’t know there were any private files.”

Ashlyn chuckled. “Well, you did have your hands full.”

Steven’s eyes involuntarily dropped to her breasts.

Ashlyn frowned playfully, “There’s that sixteen year-old again. I’d meant, saving the world.

To answer your question though, the answer is, yes. Like me, you are one of Tynabo’s creations. As regards your parents, it’s true, biologically you weren’t theirs, but please understand, they were as much a victim in this as you were, maybe more so. The Foundation never told them that you weren’t theirs. Your parents raised you believing that you were their son, created from their genetic DNA.

It’s important for you to know that the Foundation picked them specifically for you, because they were good, moral people. Tynabo wanted you to have a good heart. He knew that powerful abilities without a solid foundation can easily lead to corruption.

Even the President was proud of what your parents helped you to become.”

Steven interjected, “Speaking of President Tomlinson—he’d started to tell me about you as he was being attacked, but his transmission ended just as he was about to reveal your location.

It’s hard to accept that because of one missing word—I had to wait all these years for you.”

“And I had to wait all these years for you,” said Ashlyn. “What you missed in Tynabo’s file was his explanation about how the Foundation had been around for centuries, secretly operating under each presidential administration,—but that it was under President Tomlinson’s forty-year term in office, that you and I were finally created. You were President Tomlinson’s prized pupil. Out of all Tynabo’s creations, you were the only one who chose to go to the Academy. Only you wanted to go to the stars.

Your parents made you into the man you are now. It was they who encouraged that dream within you. They loved you deeply.”

Steven grinned. “Thank you, Ash. My parents were good people. They had a lot of empathy for others. I miss them terribly.” Steven’s head dipped as he took a private moment to himself.

Broken from his silence by a gull that landed nearby, Steven continued, “Ash—did you always know about me?”

Ash shook her head. “I knew I had a genetic mate, but they never told me who it was. All they told me was that the two of us were going to be introduced on our twenty-fourth birthday, the day everyone takes the K9 serum. When our meeting was delayed, I knew something was wrong.”

Probably because of my engagement to Ren. “Then the attack came,” added Steven, moving the conversation forward.

“Yes. Then the attack came and Tynabo put all of us into stasis.” Ashlyn drifted off, her thoughts deep, her sadness evident.

“I’m sorry, Ash. I never acknowledged your loss. My distractions are no excuse for my lack of compassion. I’m truly sorry about Tynabo and your friends. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you.”

With a small nod, Ashlyn silently thanked him. “I don’t agree with Tynabo’s decision to terminate everyone to save us—but I know he did what he thought was best.”

Ashlyn’s words brought to mind the horrifying images of what he had seen minutes before. “Ash, what happened to us up on the podium? What I saw-” Steven trailed off.

“My best guess is that I had a vision, and because you were standing so close to me, with our mental sync, you experienced it as well. It was the second one I’ve had.

The vision was showing me future moments in my life—but I think it’s wise to caution, it’s best not to jump to conclusions. Interpretation of the future can be dangerous, not to mention frustrating.” Ashlyn rocked up onto her tippy-toes and began bouncing, a playful childlike smile on her face, “The good news, is that I’m going to the Sirius system with you.”

Though the visual of seeing her battle ravaged body and himself crying over her grave was emotionally shattering, Ashlyn’s light-hearted enthusiasm was contagious. Steven grinned, “Yes, I guess you are.”

“Steven, I know you have hundreds of questions, and I’ll answer all of them for you in time, but right now, we really need to address the most important question.”

Steven, hanging on every word from her was riddled with anxiety over what she would say next. He felt like a small child being told a ghost story and the ghost was about to jump out and grab him.

“As you know, our lives are at risk.” Ash continued on, barely stopping to take a breath, “We have that one more, big step to take.”

Steven’s heart sped.

“We’re already pushing the envelope. I’ve been having severe headaches, dizziness-”

“Disorientation,” said Steven, finishing her sentence. “I’m experiencing all of those things too.”

“As genetic mates, we weren’t supposed to be facing the awkward situation we have now. It was supposed to be a beautiful melding of the two of us. Together, we’re stronger than we are separately.” Ash kicked at the sand, then continued, “We’re almost out of time, Steven—and it’s your right, your entitlement, to have this information before you take Avenger or me for that matter into battle. You have the right to decide how much you are willing to risk and to decide what will happen to you, to us and most importantly to your family.

I want to make it very clear that I will support any decision you make, regardless of the consequences. If there is any way to avoid this-”

“Being here with you—it feels, natural. It would be easier to deny my own existence,” acknowledged Steven with a soft, compassionate voice. His gaze drifted away, taking in the serenity of the island and the soothing sound of the surf. Steven knelt, his knees sinking into the sand. His legs felt numb and too weak to support him.

“Ash-”

Again, Ashlyn seeing his anguish stopped him, “You needn’t explain. Renee is an amazing woman. She’s been a good friend to me. For the sake of her and your children, I wish there were an alternative. It breaks my heart that we’ve been given so little choice in this.”

“I don’t know how to handle this, Ash.”

“I don’t either. I’ve cried myself to sleep many nights. The last weeks have been excruciating. Each night after the fugue has brought us together, I then have to look into Renee’s eyes. She’s my best friend, Steven.

And as for your children, I’ve played with them in the park. I have laughed with them and read books to them while Renee is at work. I’ve come to love them. The last thing I want to do is break their hearts.” Ashlyn’s eyes were watering and she wiped away a tear. “I also know that we are powerless to fight this.”

“Ash, I can’t hurt Renee. I can’t. There must be a solution,” said Steven, completely confounded by what to do next.

“Steven, I know you have no choice but to search for an angle that can somehow make this terrible, awkward situation work—but I’ve had more time to digest this than you have and there are solutions. Just none that are appealing.

In reality, you only have two choices. You can tell Renee about us or you can hide our relationship from her.

And perhaps it isn’t my place to speak since she hasn’t apparently said anything to you, but, she already knows about us. When they brought us back from Denver, she couldn’t explain how we survived. She ran tests on us. She discovered most everything.”

“Everything?”

“Most everything. She knows that we survived because our auras are synched into one, and that we are genetically mated to be together.

That being said, I don’t think she knows the full depth and desperation of our passions or that failure to fulfill those passions will kill us. If there is one thing I’ve learned about Renee, it’s that she has an immensely strong, internal strength. She’s logical and smart. I think the decision she’d make, might surprise you.”

“Decision?” Steven repeated.

Ash nodded. “Like us, she has two choices. She can share you or she can let you go. So, there are choices. It’s just that neither choice is comforting for Renee. All of them involve distress, pain and sacrifice.

But, if I can offer a tiny bit of wisdom? Time, is an unusual commodity. Oddly enough, given enough time, many problems seem to find their own resolution—one that was not considered, or even predictable.

If you want to break this situation down into its simplest form, we start by putting one foot in front of the other. Tomorrow is the beginning of a journey that may bring you to the solution you are seeking. You will be taking Avenger out. We don’t know if the mission will be successful. We don’t know if we will live or die or even see Earth again.”

“What about the vision?” asked Steven.

“Personally, regardless of what we saw in the vision, I believe our fates and our destiny have yet to be written.”

Steven was just beginning to realize the full depth of what Ashlyn represented. She was much more than a woman of extreme beauty. She was also one of extreme intelligence and compassion. Her words had succeeded in quelling much of his worry. He knew that she was right, that they should take it one day at time, one-step at a time, for they didn’t know if there was going to be a tomorrow.

Ash then reiterated, “I will abide by any decision you make. I want what you want and I will be happy with what makes you happy. You must make Renee and your children your first priority. Anything less will result in your heart being torn out, along with mine. If the pain can be avoided, we are obligated to do so. If there is a solution, I want you to find it. Otherwise, our guilt will never allow us to be free.

It shouldn’t be forgotten that once we take the next step, we can’t go back. Our passions will be too strong to resist. My best guess is that we have a week, maybe ten days. So we still have a tiny window of time for you to find an alternative,” said Ashlyn. Kneeling beside him in the sand, she placed her hand atop his in a show of her sincerity and support.

With the first physical touch between them, they each received a small, electrifying shock. Unlike a shock of static electricity though, where the pain inspires an instant reaction to pull away, this shock ignited a firestorm of unfathomable desire and need. It was the catalyst Tynabo had spoken of, designed to unleash the full power of the fugue, synchronizing every aspect of their mental and physical beings together. The first small step, however inadvertently, had been taken.

***

The fugue exploded, releasing enormous waves of raw energy. Even to the naked eye, such was the surge of power that their auras were both aglow. The fugue joined them, encasing them in a bubble of radiant, swirling colors; a spectacular outward display of their internal passions.

Their talents and abilities would now begin to grow, launching them into their new life together.

Yet, from somewhere deep inside Steven’s mind, things began to go horribly wrong. Without the inhibitor, there was nothing to govern the fugue taking control of him. It continued to accelerate exponentially, going far beyond its intended limits, pushing him into a bottomless abyss of desperate desire. What should have transpired naturally over a period of months, happened in an instant, during the thump of a single heartbeat.

His mind fractured, splintering into hundreds of disconnected pieces. Reaching out, he tried to grasp onto the single thing he could still comprehend, the only thing that was within reach. Ashlyn.

As his trembling fingers reached out, seeking to touch her face, he collapsed to the ground. His body curled itself into a fetal position. Weeping uncontrollably, his body shaking like that of a frightened child, his mind succumbed to the frightful nightmare from which there was no escape.

Ashlyn knelt beside him, holding his face in her hands, “Steven, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Steven!”

Her words never reached his ears. His sanity had fled from him.

Ashlyn’s heart broke for him, she feared for his life. She took his hands that were covering his sobbing face. “Steven, look at me. Look at me, Steven!”

Steven opened his eyes and for the first time in Ashlyn’s life, she knew fear. His eyes were large, raging like that of a wild, rabid animal.

Inside Steven’s mind, his scrambled, whirling thoughts declared that the creature before him was the cause of his torment, his anguish. With obsessive passion driving his soul, animalistic instinct purged the humanity within him. His eyes raced over her, her exposed breasts and plumped folds driving his sanity yet further away from him.

Lightning fast, he leapt at Ashlyn knocking her backwards. As she landed face down in the sand three meters away, a flock of nearby gulls that were running through the waves took flight, squawking rudely at Ashlyn for disturbing them.

Ashlyn lay dazed, the air knocked out of her. She found herself unable to expand her lungs to take even a single breath. Though she could feel the warm sand against her skin, the cool breeze upon her face, in staring at her fingers, she found that she could not make them move.

Only as she saw Steven slowly, chillingly walking toward her did she begin to understand what was happening.

His right arm was extended, his raised palm facing her. His hand was ablaze with a pure, white light that hid the details of his face beyond. From his glowing palm, radiant waves of surging energy emanated.

With a slight upward tilt of his hand, Ashlyn began to rise from the ground. As Steven turned his hand, so did Ashlyn rotate over. Floating at shoulder height, she stared at the sky, helpless and unable to move. Steven walked up to her, circling her. With an evil grin, he turned his palm toward the ground, lowering her.

With her black cape sloshing in the foam of the waves beneath her, with wide-eyes, she watched him. Fighting for each tiny gasp of air, Ashlyn grew ever closer to losing consciousness.

The distant portion of her mind that was still aware, reeled, amazed at the speed and sheer power of Steven’s strength. Sharp and honed as her instinct and reaction times were, his leap at her had been but a blur of movement.

Standing over her, his animalistic thoughts raced, imagining all he wanted to do to her.

As his mind sought to fulfill the desires of his passion, the two pieces of her silver body-necklace tore away from her and flew into the surf. The creature’s nakedness empowered him, as did knowing that the creature could not resist.

With a twitch of his finger, he broke the clasp on her cape and sent it flying away. She now lay before him like a staked out lamb, her arms outstretched.

Desperate passion driving his twisted thoughts, with a raised finger he gave the command for her knees to rise and for her legs to spread wide. Her black, stiletto boots accentuated the view, amplifying her vulnerability. Seeing her lying there, he suddenly knew where the demon responsible for his torment was hiding.

Deprived of oxygen, Ashlyn’s mind slipped into darkness. Her body went limp.

Seeing that the creature could no longer fight him, he lifted the field that had kept her pressed to the ground. Removing his clothes, he knelt between her legs.

Ashlyn’s perfection enraged the animal within him.

Descending upon her, he grabbed her breasts, wringing them harshly. Sucking on her nipples, they exuded a honey like sweetness that satisfied some deep, glutinous longing—and like the far-off thunder from an approaching storm; he felt a faint glimmer of sanity return.

Like a warrior going into battle, Steven drew his sword and forged ahead into the creature’s lair. The cavern had the feel of being sacred, holy ground. It was untouched and pure as freshly fallen snow. He knew he was the first to have entered and he felt a rewarding sense of power and satisfaction from it.

Steven called out, demanding that the creature reveal itself. As if in answer, from within the shadows, the silhouette of a hideous creature could be seen moving stealthily, silently. It showed no fear, and in fact, seemed to be taunting him to follow. Escaping beyond a thin veil of webbing, it disappeared into the larger cavern beyond.

Steven’s anger swelled at the gall of the creature. “If you will not come to me, then I will come to you, demon.” Steven slashed away the webbing that blocked his path and pushed his way deeper into the cavern. The cavern moaned in response, the walls turning blood red. From some far-away place he heard the creature crying out in pain, weeping. He knew then, that the creature could be beaten. “See demon, you cannot run. You cry out, because I have made you bleed.”

Emboldened, Steven closed the distance between them quickly. With his arrival in the depths, the walls of the cavern around him began to expand and contract, responding to his every touch, mimicking his every move with skillful squeezing finesse. Steven knew then that the creature was near to waking and that soon he would be the prey.

The convulsions of the cavern grew stronger, gaining momentum with each passing second. It was only now that he began to understand that the cavern itself was a living, breathing entity—an entity that was now stalking him; weakening him; strangling him; wringing the very life from him.

“You must show yourself now, demon. You must!” commanded Steven as he released a surge of energy from his sword upon the beast, bringing enlightenment to the darkness.

With another release of energy, “I command you to reveal yourself, demon, for I am your master.”

In response, the cavern quaked furiously. The creature within the shadows began to sigh and moan.

“Reveal yourself demon or I will run you through!” Steven screamed, as he released a massive surge into the darkest shadowed depths. “I command you!”

The quaking cavern began to still. He stood resolute, firm. He was a hardened warrior waiting for the enemy to reveal itself.

“Then behold, foolish one! For you have slain that which you prize most,” the demon boomed.

Steven staggered. For the face that stepped forward out of the shadows was that of his own. It bore the evil grimace of a devil and it belonged to the side of a man that few had ever seen, a side that none ever should. The darkness that had overtaken Steven exploded, shattering into a thousand shards of golden-mirrored glass. The light of the sun fell all around him, but not upon him. Within each shard, his own laughing, mocking face stared back at him.

Steven closed his eyes, hoping the nightmare would go away.

When he dared look again, the face in the shards had changed into that of Ashlyn’s. She was hurt and crying.

“Why my love, why?” Ashlyn’s weak, pained voice called to him, riding upon the winds from a far-away place.

Steven fought frantically to scramble out of the pit, to exit from the darkness that had captured him.

Ashlyn’s face turned aside, straining to look away from him.

As if it were in slow motion, an escaping tear ran to the bridge of her nose, hung for a moment and then fell, swallowed by the foam of a receding wave. The tear was like a red-hot knife slicing through his bowels. He screamed out, his stomach twisting in nauseous pain.

The weight of his shame came crashing down upon him, crushing his soul. He had risen from the pit only to find himself in a hell of his own making. “Ash—what have I done?”

As her tear filled eyes closed, he withdrew himself from her. He was broken. He could not face the reality of his actions, his crime. Not now, not ever.

The demon’s words, his words, rang true, “He had slain that which he prized most!”

He lay in the sand devastated by despair.

Slowly, Ashlyn crawled to his side and gently putting her hand upon his face, urged him to look at her.

“I can’t! I can’t live with this,” said Steven, not wanting to see her.

Stroking his cheek, “Look at me,” said Ashlyn.

Unable to witness the pain of his violent act in her eyes, he turned further away.

“My love, look at me,” she whispered. “Look at me, Steven. Please.”

While the memory of her tear stained face would forever condemn him, he felt compelled to do as she asked. In her eyes, he saw an understanding that he could not fathom.

Tenderly, Ashlyn pushed him onto his back and climbed atop him, straddling him. Her actions bewildered him. “It’s all right my love, it’s all right. It’s what I want! It’s what I need!”

He could not find a voice to ask her to explain. She held a power over him, which he could not resist.

Ashlyn moved slowly, skillfully. Gently lifting her breasts, she invited him to caress them. Seeing his hesitation, she took his hands in hers and let her aroused nipples caress the palms of his hands. What she offered was too great for his deadened soul to resist. The faint spark of the man he had once been saw a glimmer of hope in her offer, though he could not see from where it shone.

With finesse, she slid down on his shaft. Rising and descending, her sighs grew faster and higher in pitch. Their auras melded and his mind opened to her. Ashlyn guided him, helping him to focus his thoughts upon the physical sensations of being inside her.

During his time of distraction, she searched his mind, trying to understand the cyclonic demons that had driven him into the pit of madness. She saw the moment that Steven had discovered Tynabo’s broken vial in his cabin. Oh my god, the dampener. He never took the dampener.

Though surprised that she hadn’t realized it sooner, she now had the reason for his desperate desires, for without the vial’s dampener, the spark had unleashed a hunger inside him that was greater than any human had ever known. A desperation deeper than any man had ever been asked to bear.

Instinctively, Ashlyn knew she could help him.

With each of his thrusts inside her, she relaxed his mind. When he finished releasing himself, she guided his mind into a state of deep slumber.

Sitting atop him, his hard cock still inside her, she scanned his memory, erasing each torturous visual image and mind-altered thought. He would remember kneeling between her raised knees and sliding himself into her. He would remember hearing her shrill sigh that had told him she was a virgin. He would remember her long orgasm and his releasing himself countless times inside her. He would remember every sensual visual angle of her, every physical sensation of her touch—the memories of what should have been.

He would awaken happy and remember all the beauty in what they had shared. In so doing, she was at least able to remove all of his pain, though none of her own. Ashlyn would now hold inside a hurt that he would never come to know of.

***

Steven awoke first, roused by the sensation of Ashlyn’s left hand firmly grasping his scrotum even though she was fast asleep.

Savoring her touch, he imprinted every detail of Ashlyn’s beguiling body and electrifying warmth, locking into memory the heat of her breasts and the feel of her leg draped over his.

Ashlyn squirmed. Moaning sensually in his arms, she began to awaken. Her eyes yet closed, she kissed his chest, her hand squeezing his engorged cock sensually. Her touch was that of a thief, for it had stolen his heart.

Steven rolled over atop her, pinning her hand that was holding his cock between them. Ashlyn’s thumb was playfully stroking and toying with him as he kissed her. With a push, he pressed himself harder into her fist. Her touch feels so good.

“Ash—I’d thought you were kidding when you said you were still a virgin?”

“You were the first, my love. It was always to be my gift to you.” Tenderly kissing him, she moved her hips, positioning his shaft so that it rode deep between her folds—the tip of his shaft pressing against her clit. With a gasp, she let the pearl of great value she had given him seduce them yet again.

When they were done, they rose quickly and gathered their clothes that were strewn about. Three full hours had passed since the conference had ended and Steven was likely being missed.

Even on the shuttle, though they were alone, they rode in silence, an awkwardness that spoke of their struggle to publicly repress their intense passions. Only after Ashlyn had exited the shuttle and the doors had slid closed behind her, did Steven allow himself to collapse in a feverish sweat to the seat beside him. Unfastening his collar, Steven hoped it would free him from his suffocation. It didn’t. Though she had left, his heart was still beating like tribal drums. His legs felt weak, exhausted.

There was no doubt within his mind but that he and Ashlyn were one. His life was now her life.

***

Back in her cabin, Ashlyn removed the top piece of her necklace, then the bottom, setting them on the counter by her shower. Unfastening her cape, she hung it on a hook. Unzipping her boots, she kicked them off, sending them flying into the corner.

Stepping into the shower, she let the warm water caress her. Though Steven’s attack had been violent, the spark exchanged between them had also ignited the firestorm of ravenous desires within her. Upon regaining consciousness, those desires had forced her to succumb to him, forced her to orgasm.

Now, standing under the warm water, Ashlyn envisioned how wonderful and tender their time together—should have been.

The water’s touch became Steven’s fingers as it ran over her breasts, her belly and between her legs. It was sensual, stimulating.

In trying to separate Steven’s animalistic behavior and rage from the pleasant physical sensations his touch had created, she ran her fingers over her hips and belly until she was grasping her breasts savagely, passionately, as Steven had done. With her other hand between her legs, she emulated his powerful thrusts.

Remembering how it had felt to have him throbbing inside her, his hot semen shooting into her—her mind vanquished the chaos, erasing the violence and pain and replacing it with beauty and passion. Ashlyn latched onto the new memories, choosing to only remember the pleasant sensations—and from between large, intermittent breaths, she orgasmed.

Chapter 8

Steven’s return to his quarters was tarnished by Renee’s moody silence. It was unsettling, chilling. He could almost believe that she had personally witnessed his betrayal.

Phillip and Sandee had ear-to-ear smiles at having their father home again, but under Renee’s disquieting mood, their excitement evaporated like water in a steam kettle. At Steven’s request, the kids scampered out of the room, giving him a chance to talk with Renee. “Ren, what is it? What’s wrong?”

After a brief pause, “I’m going to miss you, that’s all.”

Steven knew it went deeper, but something inside, probably his guilt, stopped him from pressing the issue.

That night, though he and Renee had made love, the night passed slowly for Steven, as he lay awake. He dared not fall asleep for fear that, he might dream and Ashlyn would come to him.

As dawn approached, Steven gave both Phillip and Sandee a kiss on their forehead, saying a second, silent goodbye to them while they slept—knowing he might never see them again. The mission was a dangerous one and the odds were against them. The vision, if it held true, denying his return.

Nearing the door, “Renee, I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“I’ll be fine. Take this.” Renee then placed her antique Harry Potter book into Steven’s hand and with a single finger upon his lips, “Go now, before I lose the strength to let you fulfill our destiny.”

Surprised by her words and haunted by the intense solemnness with which she had spoken them, Steven melted before her unshakable will. He had not the resolve to question her. The look of mourning in her eyes as the door slid closed, shook him like nothing before ever had.

Before heading to Avenger’s transport, Steven went to the bio-med lab to see his friend, Victor Gregor.

Entering the lab quietly, making sure not to disturb the ongoing research in progress, he found Victor alone, sitting atop a small stool, cataloguing a vial of blue liquid.

Victor was a rotund man, die-cut from the stereotypical, scientific mold, wearing a knee-length white smock and black wingtip anti-slip shoes.

Steven cleared his throat. It was as gentle an interruption as he could think to make.

“Hey—Steven! I was wondering if you were going to stop by.” Victor threw his arms round Steven in a warm hug. “Sorry, I couldn’t make the ceremony; I was in the middle of a timed experiment. By the way, congratulations on the victory!”

After the pleasantries, Victor excitedly began talking about the recent developments, “The DNA samples you sent us are remarkable. You wouldn’t believe their chemistry. Their blood is similar to the basic components found in seawater. I can’t wait until Renee gets down here to see the analysis. This is what she’s been waiting for all these years and I’d be willing to wager that within two months, she’ll find a way to destroy them.”

Steven admired Victor’s passion for his work. “That’s great Victor, it really is—but I need to talk to you about Commander Parker? About me?”

Victor took a seat, “Are you referring to the vial Tynabo gave you? I’m assuming you took it?”

“No. It broke during the shockwave that hit Avenger. That’s the thing, when I met Ashlyn today, for the first time—when our hands touched, nothing happened. Nothing at all, and I don’t understand why?”

Victor thought for a moment, “That’s a big question. I can think of a dozen possible reasons, but—if there was truly no effect when you touched her, then I’d venture to guess that you should be okay. Do you feel any different?”

“That’s the strange part. I do—but in a good way. All the side effects that I’d had these last two months, dizziness, headaches, they went away when I touched Ashlyn. I feel great. Better than I ever have.”

Shrugging, “You’ll never see a doctor complaining ‘bout good news.

Hey, do you want to know what I discovered about you and Ashlyn, biologically? It’s amazing. There isn’t much normal about either of you.”

“Anything that’s important for us to know?” asked Steven.

“I think so.” Victor shrugged.

Steven took a stool next to Victor.

Victor, anxious to talk, started in, “Admittedly, I did more research on Ashlyn than I did about you. Her anatomy and biological makeup was just so fascinating!

As pertains to you—you’re changing. Your bone density and muscle mass has increased by six percent. You weigh fourteen pounds more than before you went to Denver. You’re turning into one tough hombre. You’re made to take a pounding, physically and—sexually.

Your blood flow has increased dramatically. Your heart is running like a turbo engine, delivering more blood, more oxygen—in turn allowing the adrenaline to interact with the muscles giving you greater strength. During sex, I’ll give you one guess what the increased blood flow is going to do to your size. Renee will notice it for sure. Be careful or you might hurt the poor girl.” Victor gave a small laugh. “The big news though, is you have a vastly, increased sperm production. It’s regenerating at near twenty times normal levels. It wouldn’t surprise me if you could have endless ejaculations.

Whatever Tynabo did to you two, it all started in Denver. You definitely are not the man you were before. And, for as great as all that sounds, no offense, but you were boring compared to Ashlyn.

All I can say about her is, wow! And—wow!

For starters, keep in mind that men designed her. They loaded everything they could into her, including the kitchen sink. Hell, her kitchen sink, has a kitchen sink!

If you think of a racecar as being built for speed—Ashlyn is built for sex. Take her breasts. You’ve seen the sway they make, well, the sway is artificial. It’s exaggerated. They gave each breast an extra pair of muscles. With any movement, even walking, her brain sends a signal to the receptors in those muscles in a timed flip-flop rotation that makes them wobble back and forth. To the male mind, the sway is like waving a dinner bell. She might as well be screaming, come and get it.

During sex, her brain is wired to send those same signals to another pair of those specialized muscles in—.

“Victor, is that really what you were leading up to with all this?” said Steven, cutting him off. “Did you tell Ashlyn what you just told me?”

Victor shrank. “She didn’t want to hear it, any of it. She said that hearing specifics would spoil the natural spontaneity.”

“You know what? She is a hell of a lot smarter than I am. I don’t want to hear any more.” Steven rose from the stool.

Victor grinned and nodded, but still felt compelled to ask, “You’re sure. There’s a lot more.”

“Victor, that’s enough!” To Steven, it felt like Ashlyn had been violated. “You have no business knowing any of that.”

Steven quickly turned and left, leaving Victor shamed, which was his intention.

Aboard the transport, Steven kept replaying Victor’s words over-and-over in his head. Ugh. I can’t take any more of this. I can’t focus. Dammit! His passions were driving him crazy and he chastised himself for his lack of self-control.

It was only as the shuttle entered the darkness of space that he found himself able to review the details he needed to go over with Brooks. Avenger was little more than an hour away from launch, and if all went well, they would return in seven to ten weeks, fourteen to sixteen months, Earth time.

He glanced down at the book Renee had given him. It warmed his heart, bringing her closer to him. He recalled her parting words, ‘Go now, before I lose the strength to let you fulfill our destiny.’

It was only now that he realized Renee had said our destiny, instead of your destiny.

“One minute ‘til docking, Admiral,” said Robbie.

Broken from his thoughts of Renee, Steven stared out the port window at the star-filled heavens. It brought back fond childhood memories of the warm, summer nights when he had watched the sky with his father and his dog, Boomer, from atop the water tower on the ranch. He remembered how he and his father had playfully sat for hours swinging their legs from the tower’s platform walkway.

The nights had been so peaceful, the air so crisp, the stars so bright. They were the nights in which his father had told him stories of glorious adventures and of slaying alien monsters. They were the days of his innocence. They were the days when the weight of the world wasn’t riding upon his shoulders.

Steven remembered how badly he had wanted to visit the massive ISC-3 as it traveled overhead each night, its three, large rings easily visible with the naked eye from almost any point on Earth. It had been his inspiration for wanting to attend the Academy.

Outside, the great hulk of the captured alien flagship came into view, replacing his view of the distant stars. Her design was sleek, efficient and far more pleasing to the eye than was Avenger. Her triangular shaped hull seemed built for speed and she had virtually no external, visible arrays or protruding structures.

Seconds later, the transport entered the bay. Her magnetic skids settled onto the deck of Defender, the new name given only that morning to the alien ship. At the base of the transport’s exit ramp stood Brooks, poised like a faithful dog. Steven had an urge to pat him on the head and tell him, Good-boy.

Glancing about the bay, Steven took note of just how quickly Defender was transforming into a vessel that had all the earmarks of having been made by human hands. Steven had requisitioned fifteen hundred people from Sea Base to be brought aboard to help with the extensive refit. Workers were moving about, speedily remodeling her interior, painting and labeling machines and devices, which might otherwise have appeared to be as foreign as the reading of Braille to the sighted.

“Welcome aboard, Admiral,” said Brooks with a formal salute.

“Thanks Leslie. I had no idea the shuttle bay was so large.” Steven was truly impressed. “I wish I had time for a full tour but I’ve only got time to see the bridge.”

One thing that was unique to Defender was her transportation system. It was something akin to a small train that ran along the center of the hull. It was an automated, relatively slow moving chain of cars that cycled endlessly down the length of the ship. You just simply hopped on or off, in the direction you needed. Riding along, though the leisurely pace made Steven feel a bit lazy, it availed itself to the conversation that he needed to have with Brooks.

Steven told Brooks about Victor’s expectations of finding a virus, which would be Earth’s best defense against a future attack.

They spoke of the need for Brooks to remain vigilant. They both knew that the element of surprise was on Steven’s side but once the alien fleet became overdue at home, the advantage was lost.

“We’re here,” said Brooks, stepping off the train near a large set of open doors that led to the bridge. As they stepped inside, Steven was in awe of the clear glass canopy that enclosed the entire bridge, making every view, every angle of space, spectacular. Even with all the destruction below, the Earth off the port bow appeared as a jewel against a black velvet backdrop.

“She’s amazing, Leslie!” said Steven as he looked around the room at the bridge and its dozens of duty stations. “It’s hard to believe that you've accomplished so much, so fast. You’ve done a magnificent job, Brooks. Magnificent.”

Turning to the comm officer, “Comm, please open a channel on the public address system for me. I have an announcement to make.”

“One moment, sir. Channel, open.” Two small chimes sounded, garnering the attentions of everyone, everywhere.

“This is Admiral Sherrah. Avenger will be sailing shortly and before I go, I want to express to all of you my admiration for the job you have done. You have overcome impossibly high odds. You should, and indeed have the right to be proud of what you have accomplished.

With my departure, Commander Leslie Brooks will be assuming command of Sea Base as well as Defender. I ask that you give him the same loyalty and respect that you have given me. I also know that you will do so because he has earned your loyalty based on his own merits. It is for this reason that on this day, I am promoting him to the rank of Vice Admiral. I have complete confidence in him to lead you through our current crisis and on into the future.

My heart will be with you always. Godspeed my friends. Sherrah out.”

“Congratulations, Admiral,” said Steven to Leslie with a formal salute. Reaching into his breast pocket, Steven removed his personal set of worn bars, and held them out to Brooks. “I was commissioned with them only days before I was married. They were awarded to me by President Tomlinson’s own hand and they have stayed upon my shoulders until this very morning. If you treat them with the respect that they deserve, their very sight will lighten your burdens.” Placing them gently within Brooks’ open palm, “I’m sure that they’ll serve you every bit as faithfully as they have me.”

“I can’t! These are yours, you should-”

“No Leslie, they’re yours now. I’m leaving two of the most important things in my life behind, my bars and my family. It’s your responsibility to guard them both.”

“I will,” Brooks said softly as his fingers closed over the bars. “I wish Defender could sail with you. It’s going to be god-awful tough waiting for you to return.”

“Your job is here. Defender is the last line of defense. I am ordering you not to follow. If we lose Sea Base, then all is lost.” With a last glance about the Bridge, Steven gave a salute and left.

Aboard the transport, Steven stood at the forward window as Robbie backed the Dolphin transport out of Defender. As the shuttle pulled away, he placed his hand upon the cold glass and gave a small wave goodbye.

Chapter 9

Day 292, 2288, 1210 hours. Ship’s time.

Soundly asleep on his sofa, Steven awoke to the chime of his cabin door. Authorizing entry, the door slid aside.

Ashlyn took a couple of steps inside and then came to a stop. Tipping her head toward the door, “I found a stowaway.” Ashlyn put her hand out, “Come-on, it’s okay.” In through the door stepped, Phillip. He took Ashlyn’s hand.

“He was hiding inside the emergency suits’ locker aboard one of the Dolphin transports. With the energy core removed for jump securement, he couldn’t cycle the airlock.

I didn’t think you would mind but we made a quick stop by the galley. He was as thirsty as a dehydrated camel—and said he had a grumbly tummy,” said Ash with a grin.

“Hi Dad,” said Phillip. Pigeon toed from embarrassment, he looked like a kid straight out of a 20th century Norman Rockwell painting.

As Steven put his arms out, “Why Son? Why did you do this?”

In the embrace of Steven’s arms, “Because, I missed you. I didn’t want you to go away again.”

“Damn, Renee must be going out of her mind!” he said shooting a quick glance at Ashlyn.

“She knew I was leaving,” said Phillip.

“What do you mean?”

“When Mom hugged me goodnight, she told me that I should give you this.” Phillip pulled out a holo-player from his pant’s pocket.

Steven knew in that instant that he was about to find out the reason for Renee’s strange behavior. Nervously trembling, he set the viewer down on the coffee table.

“It’s private. I can take Phillip, show him the bridge and give you a little time,” said Ashlyn. As she put her hand out to Phillip, he joined her and they made a quick exit. A lingering impression of Ashlyn’s swaying hips in a tight, black, one-piece stretch, stayed in his mind long after the door had closed.

Steven hit the View Message button.

Renee’s life-size image appeared in mid-air before him. Seated on the sofa in their quarters at Sea Base, it was obvious that she had been crying.

“My dearest husband, I don’t really know where to start but I ask that you listen carefully to my words. I say them with all sincerity and they come from my heart.

You’re a good man Steven, the best I’ve ever known and I owe you an apology for how badly I treated you in our last hours together. I have little to offer as an excuse for my behavior and it’s hard to explain what happened, and I certainly don’t pretend to understand it myself. But, I will try to explain it as best I can, and maybe you can put some semblance of logic to it. If so, it’s more than I’ve been able to do.

During the awards ceremony, I went to the library to get some books for the kids. While I was there, I guess you could say that I had a vision. At least that’s the best word that I have for it.”

Steven swallowed. There was little else that Renee could have said, that would have shaken him more.

“It was strange,” Ren continued. “It was like a collage of images, mixed with holo clips. It showed me glimpses of your future. I know it sounds crazy but I know it is real. Of this, I am certain.

The things I saw scared me, Steven. Really scared me. Because I saw what is going to happen to you and the crew of Avenger on your journey. I don’t know all of it—but I know enough.

Before I say what I am about to say though, I want you to know that I have thought this through very carefully.

What we’re fighting for is humanity’s survival and because of this, I’ve decided that it is far too dangerous for me to share the details of my vision with you. If you were to alter that which has to happen, well, the risk would be just too great. Certain events must occur if we are ever going to be free.

I will only say, you will not be returning to Earth. My happiness will come from knowing that you will survive, and from knowing that you have found happiness and love. Perhaps, even in having said that, I have said too much.”

Steven looked up at the vacant spot where Ashlyn had stood.

“I am not at all bitter, my husband. I take great comfort in knowing that you and Ashlyn will see and accomplish amazing things together. I have the greatest and deepest respect for her. She is still and always will be, my friend. She is an inspiration and a woman to be admired. All that I ask is that you have no guilt in loving her, for this is as much your destiny as it is mine in ways that I cannot begin to explain to you. Being with her will let you attain and become who you are meant to be.

I know you, Steven. I know you will be deeply troubled by the things I have said, and it is probably a mistake for me not to have said them to you in person, rather than having given this holo to Phillip. For this, I beg your forgiveness. Nevertheless, I do ask that you take them to heart. You must listen carefully to the things I am telling you. You must not dismiss them, and so that you will have confidence in what I say and not question my beliefs, I will state it clearly, leaving no room for doubt in your mind.

I am well aware of the genetic bond between you and Ashlyn, and that the two of you have no choice but to be together. You must not fight what is meant to be. The two of you are now and forever bound together as one. Your place is with her and because it is worth repeating—I do not want you to feel guilt over being with her. In fact, it is the only thing that I ask of you.

This is your destiny, Ashlyn’s destiny, and my destiny. Someday, you will come to understand the truth in my words.

You are the only man I have ever loved, and so shall it be for eternity. God-speed to the two men I love.” The holo then faded away.

A shudder ran down Steven’s spine. Tears were streaming down his face. He now understood why she had kept her distance during their last hours together.

In the end, she had let him go, all the while believing that she would never see him again. He loved her more than life itself and he wished he could hold her in his arms.

***

On the third day since leaving Earth as he headed to his cabin to retire for the night, Steven fully expected to find Phillip fast asleep on the sofa. He was right. Only he wasn’t alone. Phillip was peacefully coddled within Ashlyn’s arms.

Quiet as the hush of the door was, Ashlyn awoke. Grinning, she handed Phillip off to Steven so that he could be put to bed in the adjoining room. “He made me promise to stay until you came, and I never break a promise,” said Ashlyn, exercising every bit of flirtatious promise she could muster as the tip of her tongue slid cross her glistening red lips.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Nearing her, as always, Steven felt like a puppet under her control. Her sensual scent and the tingling charge of excitement as they touched made him flush with heat.

Having laid Phillip down, he bounded back to Ashlyn. “Gena, lock the bedroom door behind me.” Standing just inside the doorway, Steven stopped to watch Ashlyn. She was on the floor trying to retrieve one of her shoes that had been kicked beneath the sofa. The sensual angle was one of pure seduction. Her tight, faded blue jeans mesmerized him. Damn, damn, damn—she looks sexy as hell.

As she stretched a bit further, through her thin, white cotton blouse, he traced the outline of her bare breasts that were sweeping circles on the floor. He was right. They are like dinner bells! And I’m starving. He couldn’t help but think of himself lying beneath her, his face buried deep in her cleavage.

Rising, Ash tossed her shoes into the corner and slowly began moving toward him, stalking him. Pulling the band from her hair, she loosed the ponytail, letting her long curls flow free. Her beguiling perfume invaded his senses. With desire filling her eyes, she licked her lips. Drawing close, she began taunting him. With a single finger, she ran it over his chest, his neck, touching his lips. She pressed herself gently into him, slowly moving her breasts back and forth across his chest, while guilefully peeling his clothes away.

Each movement was sensual, teasing. Only when he was fully disrobed, did she finally touch him, grabbing the head of his swollen cock. While squeezing and stroking him, the passion embodied in her electrifying touch, captivating him, she leaned forward and rising on her tiptoes, began kissing his neck.

Steven began fumbling at the buttons of her blouse, his eagerness yelling at him to tear it from her. As he peeled her blouse off her shoulders, exposing her bare flesh, he spun her round, placing her back to the wall. His chest pressing into her, his hands gouging deep furrows in her breasts, he let the fever pitch temperature of her skin scorch him, brand him—as their lips locked in a hard kiss. Catching his lower lip between her teeth, she ran her quivering tongue across him, tickling him.

Every moment with her, seemed as the first. Every sight, every touch, carried such an impact that he felt compelled to burn it deep into memory, fearing that the moment might someday be forgotten.

As Ashlyn kissed his chest, she sensually shimmied out of her jeans and panties.

Spinning Steven round, she pressed him hard against the wall and turning her back to him, gave him the most sensual lap-dance that any man had ever received. She was swaying masterfully, her arms fluidly raised above her head, stroking her own body sensually. Her fingers ran through her mane, sweeping it round her shoulders, throwing it back so that it lightly brushed against his bare chest. His hands rode atop her hips, taking in every nuance of her spirited, liquid movements.

Dipping and rising, her butt pressed against his balls, her hips swaying back and forth, she could feel his cock swinging back and forth in the hollow of her back. Knowing how ready Steven was, Ash took his hand and danced him toward the sofa.

Placing her knees upon the cushions, Ash leaned forwards grasping the back of the sofa—lowering her shoulders square with it. Fully braced, her head hanging over the backside of the sofa, her long locks almost whisking the floor, she spread her legs wide. Canted hips, invited him to enter her.

Locking the visual into memory, he studied her perfection and flawlessness—plumped, feminine swells and a small, pink flap of skin begged for his touch.

Ashlyn sighed as he placed his hands upon her hips and began sliding, separating her lips, wide. Ashlyn gasped each time the tip of his shaft slid across her clit. As her passions grew, her head snapped back, her mane of hair landing atop her back. Gathering it, he wrapped her hair around his fist several times—then tightening the slack, he penetrated her deeply.

Ashlyn screamed, applauding his dominance. She screamed again to each successive, furious thrust from him.

Steven marveled at Ashlyn’s specialized muscles. Her breasts were bouncing and swinging furiously against the sofa. Her pussy was pulsating, vibrating, massaging him—voraciously purging and gorging upon him, her intense heat driving him to the brink of obsession.

As Ashlyn’s shrill sighs signaled her impending orgasm—she dropped the veil of control upon his mind, letting him instantly succumb to the mind-numbing passions that were begging her to let him explode.

As he began gushing inside her, “Dad?” came Phillip’s plaintive call from beyond the locked door of the adjoining bedroom.

For Ashlyn, the timing couldn’t have been worse, but Steven’s passions demanded that he make several, slow, deep, finishing thrusts—and she gave him the time to do so.

When he was done, Ash exhaled an evident display of her own frustration, “I’d better go.” Adding with a smile, before Steven could argue, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back later. Save your energy because you owe me a double!”

“He’ll probably be back to sleep in five minutes,” said Steven.

“It’s okay, I have a couple of things I need to do anyway. And I don’t want you to rush, he needs you too.” With ease, Ash slipped into her clothes.

Steven acquiesced. “Gena, end music.

I never heard those songs before, Ash. They’re great.”

“I knew you’d like them. They’re very—motivational.” Ash smiled and exited the cabin.

At Phillip’s side, “It was horrible Dad! This big snake was chasing me. He was so big and his eyes were yellow. I ran and ran, but I couldn’t get away.”

“I have dreams like that too. I think most everyone does, but they aren’t real.

Tell you what though, I’ll stay here until you go back to sleep, okay?”

“Ok. Dad—did the things in your dreams have names?”

“Names?”

“Yeah, the snake’s name was En-Enlil, or something like that.”

Steven shivered as he recalled his conversation with President Tomlinson fifteen years earlier, where he too, had spoken the name. Steven couldn’t recall ever having discussed it in front of his son.

“Well, I don’t remember that but they probably did. We can talk more about it tomorrow if you want. Go back to sleep,” said Steven, pulling the blankets up around Phillip’s shoulders.

Within a minute, Phillip was asleep.

The focus in Steven’s deep-set eyes was intense, the coincidence of the name, hard to accept.

At his desk, “Gena, bring up all the information you have on the name, Enlil.”

To Steven’s surprise, Gena responded with, “Password and voice match accepted.” A holo of the Presidential Seal appeared before him, stamped with, “For Steven Sherrah’s Eyes Only!”

“I’ll be damned. It’s been here all this time.” Steven’s belief was affirmed by the date in the bottom right corner of the holo, the morning of the attack. Why would he send the file to my personal computer aboard Avenger? It took Steven only the briefest moment to realize the reason. Firewalls. Avenger is a sealed system. He wanted it off the grid. I should have known.

President Tomlinson’s face appeared, “Hello, Steven. I’d like to start with, what a great pleasure it was to have finally met you. I’ve been observing your progress since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. I’m very proud of the man you have become. I’ve replayed your Sol maneuver a dozen times—it always manages to impress me. It was the most courageously bold stunt I’ve ever seen, let alone, by a first-year cadet.

It was an honor to promote you to Admiral.

Tynabo has also informed me that by the time you’ve been given this file, you will have reached your 24th birthday and begun the final phase in your genetic encoding sequence—which of course, includes having met Ashlyn. I’m sure you’ll agree she’s light-years beyond amazing. The promise that the two of you hold for humanity’s future is boundless. I readily admit that I’m jealous of you.

As for this communique, the information contained herein, is just the beginning. There will be much more to come. The majority of it is information that I pray, you will never need.

I look forward to seeing you again at the christening of your vessel, next month. Columbus is the crowning achievement of my administration. She’s a miracle of technology. More so, when you realize that we built her and Sea Base under a complete shroud of secrecy.

What I need to tell you is the true reason behind the secrecy.”

The President tensed, his body language stiffening notably.

“For this next part, I ask you to gird yourself, for what you are about to see and hear will be very disturbing. Unfortunately, it was required. In the end, I think you will agree that we had little choice in the matter.

As for the specific parts that pertain to you and Ashlyn—I beg your forgiveness.”

Steven paused for a moment, looking at the sofa where Ashlyn had been minutes before. He contemplated contacting her, knowing that her presence would comfort him, but if what he suspected was true, then he wasn’t sure he wanted Ashlyn to know of it, at least, not now.

“We are and have been working with an alien species. The world knows them as the Grays—but they are only messengers, workers, following the orders of their masters, the Anunnaki. Even more specific, the Grays with which we have been in contact refer to their masters as the Nephilim. And, yes, it is the same name from biblical fame. Admittedly, our historical references to them have always given me the heebie-jeebies, but the candidness of the Grays and their willingness to explain their side of the story was fairly convincing.

I have never met one of the Anunnaki in person, but we have been told that their leader, then and now, is Enlil. You may recognize his name from your studies of the ancient Sumerian text. It speaks of him as being one of our creators, one of those who were involved in our uplift.

I know how incredulous it sounds that Enlil could still be alive today, after thousands of millennia but—it is true. From what we’ve determined, and told, is that Enlil is immortal.

As for the details—we have been working cooperatively with him since President Truman back in the 1940’s—it became more official under a treaty that was negotiated by Eisenhower in 1954 at Muroc Airfield, now known as Edwards.

As time went on, a very secretive plan was developed and put into motion. Each successive presidential administration built upon the work of its predecessor. In 2009, President George W. Bush declared your location in the Mariana Trench to be a Marine National Monument and a U.S. protected zone—accessible by special permit only.

From that time forward, we began prepping for the creation of the Challenger Deep Sea Base. So as you can see—this has been a work in progress for centuries.

We cooperated under a guise, letting Enlil believe he had made us an offer that we couldn’t refuse.

Apparently, the Grays, and even the Anunnaki themselves have been visiting Earth since long before the dawn of humankind. There are recorded interactions between the Anunnaki, the gods of old and humanity in virtually every culture that has ever existed.

The name Anunnaki denotes those early visitations, meaning, those who from Heaven to Earth came. They are the ones that began visiting us, long ago. The condensed story, our side of it, as told by the Sumerians long ago, is that the Anunnaki went to war over us. They wanted to save us, while Enlil, one of their own, wanted to destroy us. It records say that Enlil thought us an abomination, not worthy of the Anunnaki genetic encoding which his race used to uplift us.

The Anunnaki won and banished Enlil and his forces to a desert planet called Hadaesia, in the Sirius B star system. I’m sure you can see all the familiarities in the story to the biblical record.

As regards his banishment, Enlil himself has confirmed this.

However, as could be expected, Enlil’s version as to the reason why the war took place differs greatly from our historical records. Therefore, from here on, our information is sketchy, and at best, one-sided—which makes it highly suspect.

According to Enlil, he says that they are here now because they were able to escape their prison world. They claim to have always been a friend to humanity and that they had fought to save us, long ago. They backed up their claim by showing us technologies, vaccines and abilities that were near magical, offering to share them with us in exchange for our cooperation.

As an example, Enlil gave us the K9 serum, some one hundred and ninety years ago, giving us our greatly extended lifespans. We accepted it with open arms as a token of his sincerity. Even that tiny bit of technology lends credence to the possibility that Enlil might be immortal.

I should mention, that even in the early days of my presidency, I was advised that Enlil was maneuvering us, using us—his intent to get genetic materials from us. Therefore, like the other presidents before me, I kept the programs in force—always pushing forward with our own agenda.

Their original offer centuries ago also had a caveat, an undertone that if we refused to cooperate, the consequence for us would be disastrous. Enlil made it easy for us to accept his offer. We’d let ourselves be corrupted, blackmailed—wanting him as an ally rather than an enemy.

There is no doubt but that Enlil sees us as vastly inferior. We probably aren’t much more than a bug to him. An important bug, but no less, a bug.

He’s never told us why he needs our DNA, not that we had any way of compelling him to answer our questions.”

The President wrung his hands nervously.

“I wish this file were all this pleasantly informative, but unfortunately, that isn’t the case. I need to prepare you for what you are about to see—and read. Much of the file is quite disturbing. Nevertheless, it is critically important that you understand Enlil and I am sorry to say, our complicit role in his experiments.

Again, I beg your forgiveness for what you are about to learn. I will now conclude my introduction to this file, letting Gena guide you through the rest. When I see you for the christening—please don’t punch me in the nose. There are reasons for our madness.” He grinned caringly and bowed his head.

On the screen a file appeared. Its title, “Children of Destiny Foundation - Case Study: D’na.”

Steven’s eyes went wide. “Dammit.”

He didn’t want to see the file and yet, he knew he must. Taking a deep breath, he swiped the air, starting the holo. Gena’s presentation began with a synopsis of what was in the file. It dazed him.

With the very first picture, Steven’s gut twisted nauseously. He noted the date, which was sixty-three years ago, more than twenty years before Ashlyn and himself were born. Each picture was a grisly, semi-human creation that was either born dead or at best, couldn’t have survived more than a few minutes. Many were the very horrors from which nightmares were born. Each picture lingered for a couple of seconds before moving on to the next. Slowly, the pictures became less alien, less offensive, and more human.

Most pictures included a caption, a brief explanation for the reason why the baby was a failure or success with the designated coding of the gene responsible for the variation. Steven paused on some of the more intriguing ones, reading the notes.

As the file got deeper, as the President had stated, the notes confirmed that Enlil was the mastermind behind the experiments. He gave the order and the UN complied, giving him whatever he asked for, no questions asked. I don’t understand why Enlil is studying us? What good are we to him?

The files went on to explain how the UN was having each of its sovereign member nations abduct thousands of its own citizens each year, agreeing to do horrifying, invasive surgeries to them. Genetic experiments that Tynabo himself had agreed to conduct.

As Steven was giving consideration to turning the file off, not wanting to see it alone, the picture of a very beautiful baby girl, light olive complexion, large silver-blue eyes, appeared. “Fuck you. Fuck you all to hell.” He knew without a doubt, it was Ashlyn. With each successive photo she grew in age, in size—until finally, it was a picture of Ashlyn the way she is now. It was exactly what he had been hoping not to find.

He now understood the depth of Tynabo’s calling Ashlyn by his pet name, D’na. It was a cruel joke. She was a DNA experiment—as ordered and overseen by Enlil.

His thoughts drifted. If she was—then—I was too.

The door alarm chimed.

Steven stared at Ashlyn’s picture, his mind locked in confusion. It doesn’t make sense—why would Enlil want to see humanity perfected? There’s something missing.

The door alarm chimed again. “Gena, bookmark and save file. End program.” Steven stood, gathering his shaken composure.

With his sanction, the door opened to reveal Ashlyn.

Chapter 10

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Out of concern for him, she tried a quick scan of his mind and was more than a little surprised to see that he was blocking her.

“I’m all right; I just have a lot on my mind. Ash, that outfit is, incredible.”

Ashlyn was wearing knee-high white boots, her locket on a silver choker with black stones and matching bracelets. For clothing, she was wearing a two-piece white cotton outfit. The top was nothing more than two narrow bands of material that came forwards over each shoulder that widened just enough to cover her nipples—the two rounded half-crescents of each areola were left to their own aspirations, teasingly staring out, above and below. Her rounded, heavy cleavage was jiggling, swaying, spilling out everywhere.

Her white stretch pants, hypnotically tight.

It was spellbinding.

“Wow, you cut your hair? It’s stunning!” Her hair was parted down the middle, a notch longer than chin length on the right, and curled under, coming to a point near her chin. The left side was longer and was brushing against her collarbone. On her forehead hung an inlaid, pearl, silver pendant that was attached to a silver chain that disappeared beneath her hair to each side. She looked even more lethal than she had before. She looked exquisitely perfect. “You look beautiful, Ash.”

“Thank you,” she said with small curtsey. “I didn’t want to keep my hair long when we are going into battle. If you recall the vision on the podium, you saw this haircut then, when I was sitting on the rock—but of course, then, like now, it wasn’t my face you were looking at,” said Ash. “By the way, is Phillip all right?”

“Bad dream.”

“Well, if I can steal you away for a bit?” In Draculean, “Then come with me, cause I vant to suck your-”

“Shhh-” Steven turned to make sure Phillip hadn’t entered.

“Neck,” Ash finished with a giggle. “What did you think I was going to say?” With a flirtatious smile, Ashlyn extended her hand, inviting him to follow. “Come on. We have some unfinished business.”

“Where to?” enquired Steven.

“My quarters. I can’t risk being interrupted again. If I was, I’d have to kill the crew! By the way, I hope you don’t mind if I’m on top, I’m a bit anxious,” said Ashlyn with a flashy twinkle in her eye.

Steven left Phillip a play-on-waking voice message that Gena would page him should he awaken. He then followed Ashlyn to her quarters like an excited puppy.

“Have a seat on the bed. I’ll be right out,” said Ash. After ordering the dimming of the lights in the room to Level 9, a low romantic lighting equal to that of a few candles, Ash headed toward her dressing room.

As Ashlyn neared the door, Steven blurted out, “Ash, I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like that perfume you wear. It’s so delicate and yet it holds a power, a sweetness that I don’t know how to put into words.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” she said with a smile. “It’s not like Sea Base has a 5th Avenue boutique. What you’re reacting to is my pheromones. It’s a natural part of our genetic attraction. I get the same reaction from yours. The closer we are, the stronger it is. In fact, this is as good a time as any to ask you a question, if you don’t mind me getting a bit personal?”

Walking toward him, “Since the fugue melded us, have you had even the smallest abstract thought, however unintentional, about another woman?”

Her question struck him like a bolt of lightning. Steven shook his head. “No,” as he came to the realization, “I’ve barely even thought about Renee.” He stared at the ground, silent and a bit ashamed.

“It’s not you, Steven. It’s the way Tynabo designed us. Humanity has never possessed rational control over thoughts and emotions, much less, hormonally driven ones. So I decided to search Tynabo’s files about it, to see why I was suddenly feeling so uniquely focused. The answer is simple, though disturbing. Because of your relationship with Renee, it also doesn’t carry the same implications for me as it does you.

With our hugely heightened sex drives, the Foundation decided that the best way to maintain family fidelity and unity was by eliminating the possibility of unfaithfulness. They found a way to eradicate the emotional attachment and desire for anyone besides your genetically matched partner.”

“Are you saying that my memories of Renee are being altered, erased?”

Sitting down on the bed next to him, Ash continued, her voice softening, “Not the memories. Just the emotional attachment. Your genetics are dictating that you want me and only me. Our pheromones are like a lightning rod, drawing the two of us together—whereas the pheromones from any other person creates a sour, unpleasant reaction. It’s mild, subtle—but it’s been nudging us, training us to not think of other people.”

Steven, contemplatively, “I can’t say that I fault the logic, but, it’s sad. It trivializes what Ren and I had.”

“Yes, it does. Once again, Renee is the one paying the highest price in all of this.

Steven, I was thinking about what you told me, about the vision Renee experienced. I think she knows something important that we don’t.

Before I jumped onboard the transport to head to Avenger, I went to say goodbye to her and the kids. There was a sadness in her, but there was also something more. She seemed—content.”

Steven’s eyes narrowed reflectively, “I saw that look in her eyes too. She was in obvious pain, but she was resolute. Settled.”

Patting the back of Steven’s hand, Ash added, “I have a feeling that someday—we’re going to find out why.” Bounding off the bed, “Are we still go for launch, Admiral?”

Steven nodded.

Ashlyn disappeared into the dressing room, “I’ll be right out.”

Steven stroked the satin sheets that were invitingly pulled back. The pillows were plumped and promising, the gel-mattress soft. He pictured her head upon the pillow, her naked body impatiently waiting for him.

Throwing a glance toward the open doorway of the dressing room, he saw that while Ashlyn was not in his direct line of sight, that the large floor to ceiling mirror on the far wall was arraying her radiantly in full heavenly glory.

He leaned back on his elbows and watched her slip out of the string top. Ashlyn held herself with the poise of an angel. No poem could ever express her beauty in words, nor could any artist ever capture her essence on canvas. Perfection cannot be copied.

In bending to unzip her boots, her dangling breasts swung enticingly.

Dinnertime. Steven’s mouth watered.

Ash turned and removed a black negligee from her closet. Glancing into the mirror, she caught sight of Steven watching her. “Bad boy!” said Ash. After giving him a playful lion’s, “Grrrr,” she stepped out of view.

Bad boy or not, he could not tear his eyes from her. Steven’s pulse was racing to the beat of a nuclear time clock as he thoughtlessly smoothed a wrinkle in the sheets.

“Close your eyes, ready or not,” Ash called out.

Steven slumped backwards on the bed, closing his eyes. He listened to the soft patter of her footsteps as she crossed the room and knelt between his legs. Gentle hands ran up his inner thigh, his breath catching as they slid slowly, weightily, over the top of his erection. She stopped, retracing her movements over him, several times. Hearing her gasp to his arousal, his passions rose.

Leaning forward, she delicately ran her hands up the sides of his chest, before sliding outwards along the length of his arms until their fingers clasped. The hot radiating heat of her breasts pressing against his groin seared him even through his uniform.

Slowly slithering up his body, Ashlyn laid down atop him. Nibbling his ear, her breath warming his neck, her pelvis grinding him, she whispered, “Damn, you sure do know how to hoist a mainsail.”

Steven grabbed her ass, pulling her tight to him.

Ash kissed his neck, panting as she felt his intense hardness, “That is a ship I definitely want to set sail on,” as she gave him a solid grind, “but right now, we gotta go! Come-on.” Ash bounded to her feet, pulling him behind her like a child’s Radio Flyer wagon.

Steven opened his eyes to see that Ash wasn’t wearing a negligee, but rather, a black outfit of narrow strings and thin, see-thru, mesh webbing.

“Oh my god, Ash. You aren’t playing fair. You can’t wear an outfit like that and not give me sex, right here, right now! That’s killer sexy.”

“I want it too, but first—we have something to do.” Scrambling out the door, she took him to the lift. As the door to the lift opened, one of the crew stepped out. His mouth dropped open at seeing Ashlyn’s virtual nakedness. He took a step aside, making room for them to pass, his eyes never leaving her until the doors closed. Steven looked at Ashlyn—she wasn’t the least embarrassed, nor had she even noticed his attentions. She truly was completely uninhibited.

“Deck five,” said Ash. “I’ve reserved the Arena for us.” As the doors closed and she looked down at his erection, “Is it hard to walk around looking like a hat rack?”

Swallowing, “No harder than looking like a flagpole!” said Steven whimsically as the lift began to slow.

They entered the Arena and, garnering their equipment, took their positions on opposing platforms.

The object of the game was to control a large, fourteen-foot tall, twenty-two hundred pound, hologram Warrior-bot. The computer would start by randomly selecting an array of equipment for use in hand-to-hand combat and tactical air strikes or strategic ground assault.

As for the large platform itself, it encases the player within a light, gravimetric pressure field that senses all body movement and then moves the bot accordingly. When set to a high level; game effects, like temperature changes, low oxygen at high altitudes and even situations like hand-to-hand combat were often felt with near realistic force. A hard blow could not only cause severe bruising, but could actually fracture bone. The virtual game was designed to be as realistic as possible without risking the participant’s life.

The game continues until only one opponent is able to make a strategic move. You can then choose to either replay your game or continue on to a more advanced scenario.

Ashlyn, desirous of a heavy workout, set the level to maximum. Level 60MD, offered a mountainous desert terrain, with little to no cover. Loading themselves into their Warrior-bots, they both activated the containment fields around their platforms.

As the terrain formed, Steven’s Blue bot stood at the base of a large barren mountain. He swiveled round, taking in the terrain. He glanced at his forearm display, studying his bot’s features. His defensive matrix was weak but his laser was the most powerful that the game allowed.

The radar display on his right wrist showed Ashlyn to be standing atop a bluff, about four kilometers distance. Now he understood Ashlyn’s flirtatious request; she had preset the computer, putting herself in the dominant position of control. She was on top.

Instead of considering her devious manipulation of the game as cheating though, he found it challenging, if not downright refreshing.

Steven started climbing, seeking to balance her elevated advantage. Even with his hydraulic legs pushing maximum, he found the slippery shale impossible to climb—but even in failure; he loved hearing the whine of his pumping pistons and the feel of the servo-induced strength encasing him. He was having a great time.

Ash appeared to be moving swiftly, taking advantage of the high ground. Time began swinging in Ashlyn’s favor—for Steven, the summit unreachable. He decided to activate his radar signal bouncer. It was a device that by design, Gena occasionally allowed to go on the fritz. Neither opponent ever knew for sure whether if it was properly functioning. Right or wrong, it forced you to make cautious tactical decisions.

Steven’s initial thought had been to scale the summit, going round the right side of a massive, rock outcropping. Now, with the summit unattainable, he studied the terrain about him, looking for options. He had no choice but to retreat.

Behind him lay a narrow canyon that separated him from a lower, opposing mountain range. He zoomed in, scanning the far mountainside. It was largely barren and offered no cover of sufficient size to conceal his large form.

It was near half a minute before his scans found something he could use to his advantage. If his radar was correct, Ashlyn’s bot was making good time moving at full-hydraulic stride across the top of the bluff.

Turning, Steven raced down the mountain, covering nearly half the distance on his tin can’s butt. Crossing the gorge, he climbed the opposite slope, quickly making his way through the small rocks and waist-high shrubs. Steven’s destination was a small ditch, a scar in the hillside that lay about a third of the way down from the summit.

Once there he found that it wasn’t nearly as deep as he had hoped. It was going to be a tight squeeze even lying down.

The second part of Steven’s plan was a bit trickier. Using the high-powered laser located on his right wrist, he began undercutting a huge boulder that was supporting the massive rock outcropping on the opposite mountain. It was purely guesswork as to how much cutting could be safely done without bringing the hillside down. Pushing his best guess a bit, he counted on a tad of luck.

Lying low within the ditch, he could just glimpse the mountain’s summit across from him. His radar showed she was quickly closing on him—so switching off his signal-bouncer, he prepared to wait.

Steven smiled as he saw Ashlyn stop and activate what was likely her own bouncer—her blip suddenly jumped back not a hundred meters from its original starting position. It was a bad bounce for her and seemed an obvious ploy.

Knowing that she must be nearing the mountain’s summit and the moment of battle was drawing near, his heart began pounding. Though only a simulation, adrenaline surged in his veins.

It was time for him to activate his bot’s only defensive feature, Inviso. For two minutes, his bot would be invisible to her. Although, with his bouncer now off, she could still pick him up on her radar. That is, of course, assuming that she chose to believe his signal was genuine. He also had to hope her model wasn’t equipped with an energy spectrometer, but that's what makes for the fun part of the game.

Suddenly, a laser blast hit the hillside above Steven, showering him with dust and debris. Another blast and yet he refused to move a servo. Ashlyn sent several more rounds toward the ditch, trying to flush him out.

Ash moved to her left, took one more shot and then moved again. His ploy was working and she was beginning to doubt that he was there. She checked her radar, tapping it twice almost as if she were thinking it might be broken. Her torso began rotating, scanning the surrounding terrain, searching for a potential trap. Ash fired a final shot at the ditch before ducking behind the outcrop.

Steven’s timer had only seconds remaining before he would again be visible. Come-on Ash, hurry it up!

He felt a wave of relief as he saw her exit a few meters below the outcropping’s right side. Her lower position would now put him two meters above her direct line of sight. Ash sent two more straying shots his way and then started cautiously descending the narrowing crevasse of the hill.

As the timer on his Inviso counted down to 0, Steven lifted his arm, letting go a three-second blast at maximum power. The blast cut a deep fissure beneath the base of the keystone boulder supporting the entire structure.

His position now revealed, Ashlyn’s shoulder turrets unleashed a hail of heavy .60 caliber gunfire in Steven’s direction. She knew that she didn’t have a good angle on him, but it was also clear that he didn’t have one on her.

While still firing at him, Ash punched the square, yellow button on her left wrist, lowering her two breast panels. Steven found the sight to be strangely erotic, and when he saw a single, white, red-tipped missile inside each breast cavity, he burst out laughing, shaking his head. If women only knew what strange creatures they were sharing their beds with, we’d all be put outside to sleep with Fido.

Ash was about to touch the glowing, red fire button as she felt the rumble. Her upper torso rotated left, then right, trying to locate its origin. The hillside’s loose shale and gravel began to give way, sending it skittering down the mountain past her. Struggling to stay upright, she lowered her long, robotic arms so that she was in an inverted, four-point stance. As her head rotated to look behind her, four meters away was a boulder, twenty-two meters in diameter, the first of many, bearing down on her.

Unable to escape from the end-game move, she stood frozen as the boulder rolled over her, crushing and then exploding her bot. Ashlyn screamed.

Steven half expected to see her clinging to the rock like a flattened cartoon figure as it rotated round, but as the dust cleared, he saw nothing more than twisted scrap metal strewn across the hillside.

A moment later, “Game over. Blue Warrior wins,” announced Gena.

As the terrain about him dissolved, he saw that Ashlyn had loosed herself from her bot and was falling to lay crumpled on the platform. Loosing himself, he jumped over the handrail of the platform to the ground below and ran to the top of her platform.

Ash was gasping, hands clenched to her abdomen.

At her side, “Ash, are you all right?”

“Wow, that thing was heavy!”

“Sorry, Ash. I didn’t mean for it to be so painful. Do you think anything is broken?”

“Just my ego,” said Ash with a pained frown. “I’ve never seen a strategy like that before. Novacek warned me that you were good, but that was—brilliant.”

“We should get you back to your cabin and let the shower’s sonic-massager work the stiffness out,” offered Steven.

“I’ve got better ways of working the stiffness out,” said Ashlyn as she gingerly rose. “I have the arena reserved for another ninety-six minutes.”

His heart skipped.

“So what are you waiting for?” said Ashlyn.

“Just admiring the view of the mountains and valleys.”

With a grin, “You’ll have more fun hiking them, than staring at them. Here, let me help you,” said Ash nearly ripping his clothes from him, “We’ll need every minute. Remember, you owe me a double!”

***

From deep within his dreams, Avenger’s siren jolted him awake.

With the klaxons abrupt stop, stark silence left the sound of Steven’s thumping heart and ragged breath to fill the darkened room. He reached out, verifying that Phillip was still asleep and lying beside him. His mind fought to clear away the fog that clung to him, to comprehend the siren’s message.

As Gena brought the light up in the room, she also connected him to the bridge.

“Is it time for the drop?” asked Steven.

“Almost, sir. That was the twenty minute warning.”

“Put us on full alert! Call the first team to the bridge.”

***

As Commander Gordon Novacek took the First Officer’s seat next to him, Steven reflected back to the day when the two of them had first met. Novacek was the epitome of first impressions being lasting ones, for he was a man never to be forgotten.

For starters, if all the men in the world had drawn sticks, then Novacek had drawn the short one. Bald, square faced, weak jawed, standing a squat 5 foot 5 inches in height, he had about the droopiest set of eyes that any human had ever possessed. To top it off, he was hampered yet further by a stutter which grew proportionately worse when under duress.

Upon receiving his commission, Steven had been granted the reward of handpicking his officers. Novacek had been chosen fourth, after Renee, Leslie, and Victor, who had all been his close friends since his first year at the Academy. Though Novacek was thirty years Steven’s senior, he had been an obvious choice, because he’d placed first in the Academy finals—not first in his class, but first in the entire history of the Academy, a record that stood until Steven’s own testing.

For a mission of this type, Novacek was the perfect choice. He had been one of the few to receive the same tactical combat training as Steven. He could also be trusted to follow any order without question. Any task assigned him was as good as done.

“Drop initiated!” said Robbie.

The swirling vortex on Avenger’s forward screen suddenly came alive with streaks of white light, focusing to the pinpoints of star-filled heavens as Avenger slowed.

“Drop successful. We’re right on target, sir. Sirius B, is 38 degrees off our port bow, 13 million kilometers distance,” called Lieutenant Rawlings on radar.

“Put our position in relation to LV-6 and the other planetary bodies in this system on screen.”

“Sir! I have three contacts! Distance, 1.4 million kilometers, fanned out 13 degrees to starboard. Their profile matches the destroyer class vessel that attacked Earth, sixteen years ago,” said Rawlins.

“Have they spotted us?”

“Yes, sir. We’re being scanned by a Polaris wave. I jammed it, but for a couple of seconds we were open to them. They have powered up and are beginning to move toward us.”

“Rawlings, is there anything within range that might help us?” Steven knew that physically they were no match for three destroyer class vessels.

“Admiral, there is one option,” said Novacek.

Steven turned to look at him.

“Sirius B.”

Novacek’s intoned confidence along with his street smarts, made Steven’s decision. “Robbie, execute toward Sirius B, maximum speed!

Novacek, continue.”

“Sir—it’s your S-sol m-maneuver. I’ve s-studied it extensively. The anti-g-gravity plating should be c-capable of deflecting the bulk of the g-gravity and the s-shields will handle the heat and r-radiation. It’ll also make us b-blind to them for a few m-minutes.”

“That was only a sim,” Steven reminded.

“But it w-worked.”

For the first time, Steven wondered if people were putting too much faith in him. His Academy test was nothing more than beating a programmer’s inputted data. It was a game—but now, they were committed. The enemy was in pursuit.

With a smirk, he nodded to Novacek. “All right—let’s do it!

Robbie, keep us at full impulse and drop the forward anti-grav plating. Let the sun pull us in. Plot a course that will enable us to slingshot around the starboard side of the sun. Watch the gravity well—don’t let the angle of our descent get too steep.”

Several of the crew turned to look at him, awed at what they were about to do.

“What the hell were three destroyers doing way out here, anyway?” said Engineer Preston.

“The pawns are always out front,” said Steven. “But it’s the King that we’re after.

Jenkins, are you prepared to launch all tubes?”

“Yes, sir. Tubes 1‑18 are loaded with Intercepts. Ready and standing by,” returned Jenkins.

“Chief, what’s our current energy status?” Steven requested.

“Steady at 96 percent.”

“Sir, I think the destroyers are a bit bewildered by what we’re doing. They’ve corrected their heading and are on an intercept course, but they were sluggish in doing it,” said Rawlings.

“Will they catch us before we get there?”

“They’ll get within missile range, but I don’t believe their missiles will catch us before our speed builds enough to outrun them.”

“And what is the distance to their home planet, LV-6?”

“81 million kilometers, 140 degrees astern,” said Rawlings.

“Perfect! Stratton, program a drone Sharkfin to head for the planet at maximum burn, equatorial impact. Leave her fully armed but disarm all the warheads. Set her shields to maximum, and the defensive matrix to auto-avoidance. Have the fighter drop its shields as it enters the atmosphere.”

“Programming, setting impact zone for equatorial plane,” confirmed Stratton. “And you did say to have her drop shields, sir?”

“Yes. I want the fighter to burn up in the atmosphere.”

“The drone is ready, sir—but at maximum burn, it might run the core dry before it gets there?”

“I ran the calculations. It’ll make it. Launch the drone, Stratton.”

Ran the calculations. Stratton pondered Steven’s words. Has his mind grown that much already? “Aye, sir. Drone launched.”

“Comm, notify Commander Parker to prep the Sharkfin squadrons to launch on my order.” Ashlyn’s face flashed before him. “Rawlings, notify me of any course or speed changes the destroyers make!”

Steven watched the radar operator intently, waiting.

A brief pause. “Sir, the trailing destroyer is veering to port. It looks like it’s going after the Sharkfin!” answered Rawlings.

“Jenkins, plot a course for a full volley of Intercepts to greet the two destroyer’s chasing us. Fire when ready. Then reload all tubes with Stingers,” said Steven.

“Aye, sir.” A moment later. “Firing all tubes. Intercepts away, reloading with Stingers."

“Rawlings, how long before we reach Sirius B?”

“2 minutes and 19 seconds.”

“And what’s the time until our missiles have a lock?”

“1 minute and 55 seconds, sir. Also, the lead destroyer has just launched a volley of intercepts,” updated Rawlings.

“Robbie, what’s our speed?”

“6.69 sub-light.”

“Are they still closing on us?”

“Yes, sir. But not by much,” answered Rawlings

“Robbie, increase burn by 8.2 percent.”

A subtle tremor could be felt as Avenger accelerated under heavy thrust. The Sun was large on the view-screen and growing larger by the second.

“We’re pulling away,” announced Robbie.

The pull from the Sun was extreme and it was sending a subtle vibration through the hull.

“Careful Robbie, it’s a fine line between gathering speed, and going so deep into the well that we can’t escape. Avenger will need every ounce of speed she can gather to break free.”

“Aye, sir.”

A golden haze began to emanate on the forward screen as Avenger began to heat up. “Should I c-close the c-cover shield?” said Novacek.

“Not yet.”

As Avenger began to sweep around the starboard side of the Sun, “We’re slipping into the well,” said Robbie with concern.

Steven leaned forward in his chair, raising his right hand into the air.

“Steady as she goes helm—steady. On my order, when we break out, plot a course directly down the throat of the destroyers, taking us between them.”

“We’re now out of their direct line of sight. Our missiles had just locked onto the destroyers when we lost visual contact,” said Rawlings.

“What about the missiles chasing us?” asked Steven.

“They’re being sucked into the gravity well. We’re safe.”

The vibration racking Avenger was intense and the groaning moan from the hull rattled the bones. Avenger sounded as though she were being ripped apart at the seams.

“Novacek, set anti-grav plating to 18.8 percent reduction,” said Steven.

“External hull temperature is nearing maximum, extending baffles to full,” said Stratton.

To the co-pilot sitting beside Robbie, “Ada, give me a continuous readout of our speed,” said Steven.

“6.84 sub-light. 6.87, 6.90, 6.92.”

“Get ready to engage boosters on my order, helm!”

“6.94, 6.96.”

“We’re falling fast into the well! 24,000 kilometers,” said Robbie.

“Close forward cover shield,” ordered Steven. “Switch view to external camera.”

“6.98,” said Ada.

Steven lowered his arm. “Novacek, increase anti-grav plating to 61.2 percent reduction.” Novacek’s brow raised, surprised by the specific number. He could almost see Steven’s mind running the calculations.

Avenger rocketed around the backside of the Sun, blistering hot. With her shields deflecting plasma particles away from her, Avenger looked like she was on fire.

“Heat baffles are extended to maximum. They can’t shed anymore heat,” said Stratton.

“We’re still falling into the well—10,000 kilometers until impact. 9—8—7 thousand kilometers, 6—5—”

“Novacek, anti-grav plating to maximum!

Now Robbie, engage boosters! 27 degrees hard to starboard!”

Avenger bucked, jolting them violently. Jenkin’s seat broke free from its mooring and he was slung across the room, still belted into it. The two helmsman were struggling at the controls, Avenger was fighting with everything she had to break free.

“We have a minor breach to the outer hull on the port side, initiating auto-repair,” called Chief Preston. “Booster engine nine has also been damaged. It’s leaking fuel. Jettisoning.”

“Helm, roll 12.8 degrees to starboard,” said Steven wanting to minimize damage to the weakened portion of Avenger’s hull.

“We’re still falling—2 thousand kilometers until impact.”

“Helm, kick in the horizontal port thrusters. Increase the aperture of the burners on all engines by 11.6 percent. Increase the escape angle to 41.1 degrees.”

“500 kilometers until impact. 400—300—”

Everyone on the bridge could hear the heavy torque tearing parts of Avenger away. A shudder raced down her central frame support.

“She’s stabilizing.”

“Sir, we have an internal hull rupture on port decks 2, 3 and 4, sub-section 9. We’re venting. Anti-grav plates 918-995 have blown out. Internal air-tight doors are sealing. Admiral—” said the Chief, “not everyone got out.”

His words stabbed Steven’s heart. “Helm, roll another 15.3 degrees to starboard,” said Steven as he countered Avenger’s missing anti-grav plating. “Increase escape vector by 3.7 degrees.”

“Increasing escape vector by 3.7 degrees.”

On the view screen, the sun loomed large and bright as they skimmed just a hundred meters above Sirius B’s surface. A sunspot passed by beneath them; a small solar flare exploded ahead of them, arcing like a bridge over their heads. The surface was alive, bubbling, churning.

As the blackness of space began to fill the screen, the bridge crew took a breath, realizing that they were starting to pull away.

“Rawlings, get a lock on the destroyers and feed it to the helm and weapons’ station.”

“Coming into view, now. I’ve got them, sending coordinates.”

“Robbie, take us down their throat, centering us between the two ships. Keep our speed up.

Jenkins!” Steven looked over at the lad who had loosed himself and was clambering back to his station. “Get ready to launch all tubes, send the port and starboard volley to their corresponding targets on my order.”

“Aye, sir. Targets acquired. Standing by,” said Jenkins as he swiped away a trickle of blood above his eye. “The destroyers are almost at a stop. They must have thought we were destroyed!”

“Distance to the destroyers, 60 thousand kilometers, 50—40—30—20,"

“Now Jenkins, fire all tubes!”

“Stingers away!” Jenkins pushed the button and collapsed to the deck, unconscious.

“Stratton, take over on weapon’s control. Novacek, take Stratton’s station.”

Avenger’s eighteen Stingers cut loose as she streaked between the two enemy vessels—her white-hot engine bells spitting out flames three kilometers behind her.

“They d-didn’t return f-fire!” said Novacek.

“They couldn’t. We were moving too fast for them to get a lock on us!

Change main display to rear view.” On the view screen, the two destroyers, already weakened by the earlier volley of Intercepts, exploded almost simultaneously. The screen turned brilliant white.

***

“Admiral! I’ve got a single vessel leaving the planet,” said Rawlings.

“Is it on an intercept course for our drone?” asked Steven.

“No, sir. It’s on an escape vector.”

“They f-flinched,” said Novacek. “You s-scared t-them.”

“And sir, our drone has just entered the atmosphere, she’s dropping shields. She’s heating up.” Adding a moment later, “Sir, the destroyer chasing our Sharkfin has realized it was a trick. The ships are coming about!” said Rawlings.

“Helm, hard to port. Plot a course directly away from her,” ordered Steven. “Are Ashlyn’s squadrons ready to launch?”

“Yes, s-sir. T-they’re awaiting orders,” said Novacek.

“Stratton, how many magnetic mines do we have aboard?”

“Just eight, sir.”

“It’ll have to do. When the destroyer is lined up behind us, lay them all down in our wake.”

Chapter 11

Sea Base – Earth

“Proceed with Project Hermes,” said Brooks. For all the good it will do, thought Brooks to himself. It’s too little, too late.

The missiles launched, racing heavenward through the cold water. A moment later, “Breaching—locking in trajectories. The first missile will arrive over Asia in sixteen minutes.”

When Renee had brought Brooks the news of Liberator 166, he finally began to believe that the human race might have the upper hand. Much of what Renee had tried to explain was in scientific jargon that only a fellow geneticist could follow, but the basics were simple enough. She’d found a virus that while harmless to Earth’s plant, animal and human life, reacted like lethal acid to the alien’s salt laden body tissue. It merely needed to be released into Earth’s atmosphere to make it uninhabitable for them.

The hope that Renee’s discovery held, meant little though to Earth, in light of what Gena had revealed, just hours earlier that morning.

Gena’s monitoring of the Yellowstone caldera had confirmed their worst fears. The Moon’s destruction was having a much greater effect upon the Earth than their initial projections had anticipated. They’d learned there was less than ten days before the caldera would erupt, catastrophically.

It remained unclear as to what the full effects would be for Sea Base.

The quakes had grown steadily in intensity, day by day. Sims showed that while the caldera wouldn’t likely have any direct impact on Sea Base, it might, like ripples in a pond, create other major quakes that would. And the trench in that scenario, is a very dangerous place to be.

There was only one true alternative. The only way to guarantee the safety of Sea Base’s populace was to evacuate—moving everything and everyone aboard Defender. She had enough room to support the entire population, indefinitely. The logistics, while difficult, were manageable.

Therefore, commencing in three hours, Brooks was going to make an announcement, ordering the evacuation to their new home.

A chime from comm. “Sir, Renee Sherrah is requesting to speak with you. She says it’s urgent.”

“Patch her through.” As her face appeared on the monitor, “Hello Renee, what can I do for you?”

“Leslie, to get right to the point. Now that Earth is protected, I wanted to talk to you about the idea of taking Defender to the Sirius B system. We need to bring Liberator 166 to the enemy. This is our best chance to end this war, once and for all.

If you agree—then I am hereby requesting permission to join your crew. I ask that you please do not deny me this. It’s something that I believe we’ve got to do—that I’ve got to do.”

After a long pause, Brooks smiled, “I think I might be able to accommodate you.”

***

“Sir, the destroyer just launched a salvo of twelve missiles. I also show twelve fighters incoming just behind them. Three minutes and closing,” said Rawlings.

“Stratton, fire a full volley of Intercepts at the incoming missiles and reload.”

“Sir. We only have the one loaded complement of missiles remaining.”

With a deep breath, “Understood, launch Intercepts,” ordered Steven. Again, his heart felt a pang of distress as he gave the order he knew he must give. “Scramble our Sharkfins to engage the incoming fighters. Launch when ready.”

***

“Red 4 follow me, we’ll split left. Red 9, take your team to the right. Red 11 drop your group back two thousand kilometers and wait. We’ll force them into you. On my mark, go to full throttle. My team, we’ll work our way behind them, so we can trap them in the middle. Max out your anti-torsion fields,’ don’t want anyone flattened by the g-force. And don’t forget, out here a slow man is a dead man!” said Ashlyn to her squadron.

“Commander, this is Red 9, my tac display shows that 6 missiles have gotten through our Intercepts.”

“Ignore them. The Admiral’s orders stand until changed. Our concern is those fighters. If they get past us, Avenger is finished!” Ash reminded.

The twelve enemy fighters stayed in a tight formation, following behind the missiles that were streaking toward the fleeing Avenger.

“Time for action, gentlemen. Full power to the shields, 3—2—afterburners, engaged.” Ashlyn’s Sharkfin shot forwards, the pressure forcing her body deep into the cushioned, restraining field.

During drills, Ashlyn had always run the simulator at its maximum enemy encounter ratio to improve her flying skills—but, once you had the basics down, Ash knew that no sim could provide the edge that was needed to survive in real combat. You could be killed over-and-over again and knowing that, the human tendency was to become cocky, taking foolish risks—or sometimes, not taking it, when it was the only option. This was the real thing though, and the loser wouldn’t get to play again.

Ashlyn glanced at the targeting display, her radar showing all contacts as numbered triangles, friendlies in green, enemies in red. “Call your targets, gentleman, and engage. I’m on 1.”

As her target came within range, Ash feinted a move to the left and shot downwards, the alien ship responded and performed a roll to its right, thinking to follow in pursuit. It was the move for which she had set him up. She flipped her craft 90-degrees, while swinging the throttle to the right. The nose of her Sharkfin came up aiming straight at the fighter’s belly, even as he began to do a counter-roll left.

Thumbing the trigger, the nose-mounted laser blazed. For the merest fraction of a second, the shields repelled it and then it sliced its way through, striking the canopy as he rolled round. She caught the oddest glimpse of the pilot as he gasped for a last breath of escaping air, his large, innocuous eyes accusing her skillful maneuvering to that of being sheer luck.

Looking at her tactical display, Ash saw the blip of Red 4 wink out as his ship exploded. He’d never gotten off a shot. There was no worse way for a pilot to die.

Ashlyn’s radar showed that Red 5 was in serious trouble. “Landry, cut sharp to port, drag your bogey in front of me, now.”

“Roger!”

With her boosters at full, she watched Landry cut to port.

Landry, flip 180 and hit the turbo, now. Landry’s performed the maneuver and came streaking by upside-down over her head. The chasing fighter came straight up into her line of fire and at pointblank range; she opened up, cutting a clean slice cross the enemy’s fuselage. In passing, the enemy fighter’s wing clipped her shields, sending her into a roll.

Swinging hard to starboard, she teamed up with Landry. The two of them now behind the advancing line of enemy fighters.

“Thanks, Commander.”

“My pleasure, Red 5.”

While she was busy helping Red 5—Red 6 and 9 had been destroyed.

“Red 10—sorry about your two wing-men. Join up on my right. We’ll chase them into Red 11's team.”

“Roger that Red 2. Taking position off your right wing.”

“This is Red 1. I need help people; I have a hornet on my ass. He’s got a lock, swinging right-”

“Red 3 here. They got Red 1. I’m in pursuit of his bogey.”

“Red 3, do you need an assist?”

“Negative, I’ve got the bastard in my sights—bingo. That one was for you Charley.”

“Red 3, follow our wing back to Red 11.”

“This is Red 11. What the hell is going on? My radar’s got a swarm of blips behind Avenger?”

“It’s just a trick. She’s dumping her reserve engine coolant tanks.”

Red 11 wondered how Ashlyn could know what Avenger was doing, but he never questioned her.

Ashlyn’s scan of Steven’s mind had shown her Avenger’s desperate situation. She saw how Steven was hoping that by purging the contents of the six monstrous, reserve, engine coolant tanks; it might form a frozen, makeshift wall that would take out the chasing missiles.

She also saw that Steven didn’t believe it was likely to work.

Suddenly, a powerful three-meter wide laser shot from behind, skipped off Ashlyn’s shields, dropping their integrity almost to zero. She took an evasive roll to starboard, pitching downward and then veering to port, trying to shake the enemies targeting system.

“It’s the destroyer,” called Red 3. “I’m taking evasive, swinging left.”

Ash watched her radar as Red 3 swung away. Then he began to—“Red 3, this is Red 2. What are you doing?”

“I’m going after her.”

“You can’t do it by yourself,” said Ashlyn.

“Her shields have to be redlined from the mines Avenger laid down. I’m still packing two Stingers. Get the team back to Avenger.”

“And they call me stubborn?” said Ash, jesting playfully with him. Ashlyn ordered her team to continue pursuit of the remaining enemy fighters as she came about, preparing to join Red 3.

“No disrespect Commander, but stay clear. I can do this. Engaging—firing Intercepts.”

Ashlyn tipped the nose of her craft up 90-degrees, and engaging the boosters shot ahead just as again the flagship’s laser targeted her, the beam cutting a gash down her port side hull.

“Damage to port side hull. Oxygen is being vented. At current rate of loss, air will be exhausted in 38.4 minutes,” said Gena.

On her monitor, she saw the two Intercepts racing away from Red 3. A moment later two small flashes lit the sky. Several smaller explosions followed, and then finally, the destroyer blew, becoming a huge expanding ball of flame and sparkling debris.

“Red 3, good going!"

“Red 3, do you copy? Briggs?”

Over Ashlyn’s open comm channel she heard, “This is Red 11. All pilots, hold position. On my orders, hit them with a heavy barrage of fire.”

Red 11’s team of Sharkfins had formed a wall, daring the enemy fighters to pass.

“I’ll be back for you Red 3, hold tight.” Ash hit the turbo in pursuit of her team. “Red 11, we’re bringing them home to you. Give us a moment to clear out and we’ll give you a clean shot.”

“Roger that Red 2.”

“Red 5, Red 10, take’em up three klicks. I’ll descend three klicks.”

“This is Red 11—okay Rockettes, time to kick-up your heels!”

Red 11 and his wing of fighters, laid down a heavy display of firepower in front of the advancing enemy, long before they had visual contact. Ashlyn’s team closing from behind opened fire, tightening the noose. The enemy pilots’ confidence waned and they broke formation, splitting off in all directions. The two teams of Sharkfins hit their turbo and took off in pursuit. Within moments, the enemy fighters were destroyed.

“Red 11, you have the team, if you punch it hard, there’s a small chance you might be able to catch the missiles chasing Avenger. I’m going back for Briggs.”

“Aye, sir. Godspeed, Foxy Lady. Godspeed.”

***

“Admiral, a strafing run by one of our fighters has finished off the last destroyer,” said Rawlings.

“On screen.” The rearward view monitor lit up showing the dimming explosion of the destroyer.

“Enemy missiles are closing on the coolant dump—contact.” The intricate artwork erupted into a dazzling display of exploding, glistening ice crystals.

“We still have three incoming, sir.”

“Missiles at 6100 meters and closing. 35 seconds until impact.”

“Order the returning Sharkfin’s to clear the area, they won’t get here in time to intercept them. Send the team to LV-6.”

Unfortunately, only one option remained. “Comm, open a channel to engineering.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“This is the Admiral. Emergency evac, repeat emergency evac of all engineering personnel. Section 3 will be disengaged in 15 seconds.”

“Gena, initiate emergency disconnect of Section 3. Ten second delay. Shipwide, verbal countdown.”

“Password verification required,” came Gena’s request.

“Admiral Steven Sherrah, password, Lizard Tail.”

“Password verified.”

The shipwide, ten-second verbal countdown began with the pre-mandated programming that Section 3's two energy cores be ejected.

Nearly 150 men and women scrambled for their lives to reach the connecting node to Section 2. As the door began to lower, one of the crew, a man, sacrificed himself and pushed his wife under the closing doorway.

“Emergency disconnect of Section 3 initiated,” said Gena. The small internal charges of the massive coupling assembly blew, sending four, thudding jolts racing through the hull.

As the sections separated, the piping and rubber tubing connecting the sections was torn away, leaving a messy tangle of tentacles flailing behind Avenger.

“We’re f-free, sir,” said Novacek. He also saw that forty-seven people didn’t escape.

“Robbie, boosters to maximum! Novacek, route all available power to the shields.”

On the monitor, Section 3 began to brake, its auto-programming forcing it to wait for its slaughter.

“Missile’s locked and closing, 3 seconds, 2—1, missiles impacting,” reported radar.

The engineering section exploded in a blaze of glory as a massive shower of sparks filled the heavens. Instantly, the shockwave caught Avenger, carrying her along in its bustling wake. With the loss of Avenger’s primary stabilizers and the main drives on Section 3, they were nearly helpless. The attitude jets fought to stabilize her as she began listing to her port side. The jets were but a whisper of wind against the turbulence of a hurricane.

Steven was nearly knocked unconscious by a crewmember who was flung across the room.

“Mr. Preston, take my s-s-station!” said Novacek moving to help Steven. “H-helm, get her s-s-stabilized.”

“Trying, sir. We don’t have much to correct with.”

“Mr. Preston, s-s-status?” Novacek called.

“Shield strength stands at 7 percent. Running on backup reserves, currently at 22 percent and falling.”

“Novacek, use the secondary boosters on Section 2 to get us to the—the planet,” Steven struggled to say, his eyes closed tight.

“We-we need to f-f-flatten our t-tumble first.”

“Tumble?” Steven said with only faint comprehension.

“Med t-t-team to the bridge, Priority 1,” said Novacek as he removed a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and held it to the bleeding wound on Steven’s forehead. “Status?” Steven asked weakly.

“S-section 3 has t-t-taken out all the missiles that were c-chasing us. We’re c-currently traveling at 1.54 s-sub-light. We’re t-tumbling; helm is trying to get us s-stabilized. We’re a long w-way from the p-planet. T-there’s no chance of Avenger m-making landfall.

We’re p-preparing for evac.”

“Use the vertical thrusters in the landing arm extensions,” said Steven with all the vigor he could muster.

“Aye, Admiral! Extending sea-floor landing arm extensions,” said Robbie, with a proud sense of awe at the brilliant idea.

Outside Avenger, it appeared as though the ship were morphing into a giant bug as four spindly legs began growing from its undercarriage.

“The Sharkfins?” inquired Steven.

“You ordered t-them to the p-planet, sir.

R-radar, what’s t-the current s-status on our S-sharkfins?” said Novacek.

“A little over forty million kilometers from the planet.”

“Casualties?” Steven inquired.

“A few, sir. We’re unsure as to who the specific pilots are though. The array that tracks the tagging signal was lost when we were trying to break free from the sun. I could have them do a verbal roll-call?” offered Chief Engineer Preston.

“N-negative. The less information we b-broadcast about ourselves the b-better,” Novacek ordered.

“Ash?” Steven mumbled almost silently. He reached out with his mind, trying to call her, but the pain kept him from focusing.

“If anyone c-could make it, you’ve got to know it w-w-would be her,” Novacek whispered into Steven’s ear. “She’ll b-be f-fine, I’m s-sure of it!”

Novacek waved the arriving med team over. After a quick check by the med scanner, “It doesn’t appear too serious, Admiral. You have a concussion. You’ll have some dizziness, and I can give you an inhibitor for the headache.”

“No, no inhibitors. I need to be alert!”

The medic nodded. “Yes, sir. Let me know if you decide you need something.”

“It’s working, Admiral. The vertical arm thrusters are stabilizing us,” said Robbie.

Steven’s only thoughts were of Ashlyn.

***

Ashlyn had to assume that Briggs’ transponder was destroyed, since his emergency beacon wasn’t broadcasting. Combined with the lack of response to her cry of his call sign, it seemed likely that Briggs was dead. Still, she couldn’t leave without knowing. She owed him.

The debris field from the destroyer was immense and spreading by the second. Sifting through the wreckage by traditional means would take far longer than her fading oxygen reserve would allow.

Closing her eyes, Ash let her senses stretch, looking for a patterned wave of thought. Sensing nothing, she drew a deep breath and refocused her chi—drawing upon her inner strength to perceive even the slightest emotion.

There was something, like the radiating heat of a lit match at a thousand paces. Though weak and unfocused, she knew the thought pattern was human. She focused on it, searching for a distinct direction. Letting her mind guide her, she boosted through the debris to his location.

Even at close range, lost amidst the junk pile of twisted metal, Briggs’ fighter was barely recognizable. “Eject left tow cable.” Immediately, the tow cable splayed out, hitting the nub of what had once been Red 3's wing. With the magnetics engaged, “Tighten line, 80 pounds psi.” The cable retracted, pulling the two fighters together.

Removing her pilot’s helmet, Ashlyn activated her locket and vented the air in her cockpit. Once the canopy lifted, she stepped out. Walking down the length of her wing, the light-duty magnetics on her boots holding her to her craft, she glanced inside his cockpit. Ash, knew that once his cockpit air was vented, she’d have only seconds in which to get him safely inside her craft.

Moving to the small control panel on Red 3's fuselage, Ash hoped desperately that she’d find the ship’s internal electronics’ still functional.

Lifting the panel’s cover, she hit the cabin’s manual pressure release button. As she’d anticipated, the familiar hiss signaling the cockpit’s depressurization was missing.

“All right then, we’ll do this the hard way.” Inside the compartment was a small, emergency repair kit that held an assortment of Magnetite hand tools. Unrolling the bundle, she found the tools she was looking for, a simple screwdriver and a light duty hammer.

Knowing that the glass would be near unbreakable, her objective was only to puncture the canopies seal. She made several hard blows before she saw the small wisp of escaping air.

Again back at the access panel, Ash grabbed the red, emergency hatch release. A painted warning beneath it read “WARNING, DO NOT OPEN HATCH WHILE INTERNALLY PRESSURIZED! SEVERE INJURY COULD RESULT!”

She watched until the venting stopped. Ash strained to grasp the handle, her gloves making a simple job hard. With a downward pull, the canopies internal locks released and it sprang open.

Unbuckling Briggs’ harness, she lifted him, carrying him cross her wing to her cockpit. Dropping him into the co-pilots seat, she jumped in beside him, quickly punching the buttons that closed the canopy and pressurized the cabin. Deactivating her armor, she turned to check on Briggs beside her. When she saw him take a deep inhalation of air, refilling his lungs, she relaxed. It was all she had hoped for.

***

“Chief, do we have any information on our pilots yet?” asked Steven, after he was again unsuccessful in his attempt to contact Ashlyn.

“Nothing specific, sir. They are still under long-range blackout. Nevertheless, radar shows they are following standard protocol and following the beacon to its chosen location. They’ll be making landfall shortly.”

“Keep me informed. Novacek, you have the bridge. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Steven had been using sickbay as a temporary childcare facility. He laughed aloud, the pain of his concussion making him wince as the door opened and he saw Phillip playing cards with the nurse. Though they were both securely harnessed, the scene had a contradictory casualness to it. The idea that they had been playing amidst the turbulent shaking was comical.

“Admiral, your son’s been teaching me a game called poker.”

“Is he taking advantage of you?”

“A bit. I owe him 6 tongue suppressors, 1 stethoscope, 2 doctor’s hats, 4 pairs of gloves, and 142 Q-tips.”

“I see! Then perhaps I am rescuing ‘you.’

We’re abandoning Avenger. We’ll be evacuating into the emergency pods, shortly. About all I know is that, the pods are programmed to follow a beacon groundside. Instructions will be announced in a few minutes. Recruit the help you need to gather all the antibiotics and med supplies.”

Before returning to the Bridge, Steven and Phillip stopped by their cabin to gather a few items. Steven’s movements were harried, his every thought awaiting confirmation that Ashlyn was safe.

Five minutes later, back on the bridge, “Do we have the pilot update?”

“It just came in, sir. We have six surviving Sharkfins, five of which have just landed on the planet,” said the Chief. He spun round to face Steven, obviously despondent over what he had to say next. “The sixth is Commander Parker. She also has Lieutenant Briggs aboard, she went back to rescue him.”

Briggs? How the hell did she get him into her ship?

The Chief, after a long, baited-breath then added, “She’s in serious trouble, sir. She’s ultra-low on fuel—and, she can’t go to the planet with the other pilots because she has an oxygen leak. She has less than 12 minutes of air left.”

Steven tensed. “Give me the options.”

“There aren’t any. She’s spam in a can.” Seeing the disgruntled look upon Steven’s face to his words, “Sorry, sir. She’s at full throttle to try to catch us before we reach the terminator to launch the pods. The oxygen situation is bad enough, but she’s so low on fuel, she won’t have any left for braking or course corrections. ”Novacek, wanting to turn the conversation to more optimism, “I’m h-having the bay p-p-primed for a d-dead‑stick landing.” It was an avenue of hope, if only a small one.

“Comm, open a channel to her, full visual mode.”

Novacek flashed Steven a questioning look for breaking official safety protocols.

“Aye, sir. Channel open.”

Steven was surprised to see that Ashlyn was in her armor. Ashlyn’s face appeared on the view screen. “Commander Parker, what’s your status?”

“Not so good, Admiral. I took damage from the destroyer. I’m running low on oxygen, I’m using what’s in my suit for me, giving what’s left in the Sharkfin for Briggs.

As for fuel, problematic. I’m white-hot. It’s a race to catch you before the oxygen runs out versus the remaining fuel. Computations show that if you can increase Avenger’s speed to 1.98 sub-light, I’ve got a shot at syncing our speeds before I run out of fuel. I have a 4 minute and 10 second ETA. My fuel will be gone in approximately 3 minutes 43 seconds. I’ll need to cut fuel at 3 minutes and 20 seconds though to save some for last minute braking and course adjustments.”

Steven crunched the numbers in his head. 50 seconds of flight time without her mains. If she is off by even a millimeter, she’ll miss Avenger by a hundred kilometers. It was impossible.

“I need you to rig the launch bay for a dead-stick landing, sir.”

“It’s being prepped as we speak. What’s your oxygen reading?”

“Briggs has 9 minutes left,” Ashlyn said casually.

Ashlyn reached out, seeking to talk with Steven privately, and was surprised that she couldn’t do so. “Are you all right, sir?”

Steven touched the bandage on his forehead. “It’s nothing; just get back here safely, Commander.”

“Will do! Sir, if I can make a suggestion, please turn off all of Avenger’s external lighting, only leaving the internal landing bay floods on.”

“Affirmative. We’ll center Avenger so that the landing bay is a straight shot for you. Ash—” Steven’s voice trailed away.

Though she wished she could have spoken to him within the privacy of the fugue, she was forced to make her request verbally, “Sir, if I may make one additional request? I ask that you go to the flight deck’s pilot entrance at the rear of the hanger and observe the landing in person.”

Steven hesitated only briefly, “Very well, on my way. God-speed, Ash, Godspeed!”

Novacek’s intensely narrowed eyes, questioned Ashlyn’s strange request at placing Steven’s life at such extreme risk.

“Helm, what’s our energy status?”

“At 7 percent, sir.”

“Good—increase our speed to 1.98 per the Commander Parker’s instructions. Align the bay for her.”

“Aye, sir. Aligning shuttle bay. Our port correctional thrusters are almost useless for increasing our speed though.”

With unusual sternness, “Figure it out. Just get it done.

Chief, time until the escape pod launch?”

“For safety, launch should begin within 22 minutes. At 29 minutes, the planet will be too far away to make landfall.”

“Very good,” said Steven. “Comm, sound the evac order for everyone to get to the pods.

Novacek, I’m going to the landing bay. You have the Chair. If you don’t mind, keep an eye on Phillip for me, please.”

Novacek thought to question Steven about the danger he was putting himself and the ship in, but seeing the conviction etched in Steven’s face, he also knew that his cautionary words would be ignored.

***

“Hold on Briggs. We’re almost home,” said Ash to her passenger’s unhearing ear.

Though Avenger was still invisible to her, and Steven’s mind was still inaccessible, her heart was drawn to him with a precision that no machine or instrument could duplicate.

She knew that Avenger’s gaping maw sat before her like the open mouth of Moby Dick and not unlike Ahab in his obsessive hunt for the white whale, Ashlyn’s soul was dependent upon catching it. Her obsession though was not for Avenger, but for the man who commanded her.

“Gena, switch me over to manual control, maximum yoke sensitivity.”

“Manual override, engaged,” came the instant response. With a light hand that could hold a stick of warm butter without marring its shape, Ashlyn eased her craft a finite gradation to port. A chime sounded, signaling her divergence from the course Gena had chosen as optimal.

Pressing the tandem floor pedals, Ash reversed the port and starboard engine thrusters. Her Sharkfin trembled under the torque of heavy braking, growing stronger as she pushed the reverse thrusters to the floor. Ash heard the first of three small pops as several, already weakened rivets on the underside of her hull gave out.

With the yoke jittering in her hand, the red fuel warning light on the control panel began flashing faster, questioning her expensive use of crucial fuel on empty tanks.

The extreme depth of concentration Ashlyn needed to keep her aura locked with Steven’s, forbade her from taking readings of her gauges. “Gena, verbally update my current speed every 4 seconds.”

“Current speed is, 3.53, 3.46, 3.12, 2.92,” Gena called out.

Adrenaline honed her instincts to the precision of a surgical knife. Her perceptions sped, slowing time. “You’ve got to give me more,” she said softly.

“2.74 …” said Gena as the engines gave a sputter.

“Dammit!” Gena’s calculations were off, and she was far from the 1.98 speed she needed to make the landing. “Gena, divert 70 percent of the fuel reserved for the attitude jets to the main braking thrusters.”

“2.56, 2.45, 2.37—”

Ash glanced out her port window and saw that she was losing fuel. Her earlier collision with the enemy fighter had caused more damage than she’d realized. Within seconds, the deep guttural sound of the reverse braking thrusters again began to sputter, “Gena, route all remaining fuel to the mains!”

It only helped for a moment, her engines quickly coming to a cold, silent stop. Her tanks were empty.

“Avenger, I’ve gone rogue. Repeat, I’ve gone rogue. My tanks are empty. I have no fuel for course corrections.”

Though her aura told her that she was still locked onto Steven, her speed was still far too high. Knowing that, she made the only decision she could.

“Gena, initiate executive auto-destruct command, Ashlyn 34—21—32.”

“Self-destruct initiated, 10 second warning,” said Gena.

Chapter 12

Steven stood at the steel door staring through the thick, glass window into the open bay. He strained, reaching out for Ashlyn. Nothing. He reached deep into his mind.

Suddenly, cold darkness enveloped him. Brilliant embers of golden-yellow light kindled to life as the fireflies wove their magical pathway through the darkness, drawing him.

His concentration sharpened, letting him hear and see Gena’s readouts from within Ashlyn’s mind. He saw himself surrounded by the familiarity of dials, tactical displays and system status panels.

“Current speed is 3.53, 3.36, 3.12, 2.92,” Gena called out.

“You’ve got to give me more,” he heard Ashlyn say.

“2.74, 2.56, 2.45, 2.37,” said Gena. Her engines sputtered.

“Gena, route all remaining fuel to the mains!”

Steven watched, waited, and then he heard the reverse braking thrusters sputter to a stop. Within the surreal physicality, he became acutely aware of her desperate situation.

“Avenger, I’ve gone rogue. Repeat, I’ve gone rogue. My tanks are empty. I have no fuel for course corrections.”

“Gena, initiate executive auto-destruct command, Ashlyn 32f—21—32.”

Hearing her orders, a crushing pain swept through Steven’s heart, nearly renting it in two. With a stark realization, he saw that she was going to sacrifice her own life to save Avenger’s crew.

A massive surge of adrenaline surged into his veins, even as he heard Gena say, “Self-destruct initiated. 10 second warning.”

“No Ash! Don’t!” he screamed. He could not let her go, even to save his crew, even to save his own son.

The surge of adrenaline sped his perceptions, bringing time to a virtual standstill. Though Ashlyn was dozens of kilometers away, Steven’s mind envisioned her craft with unparalleled clarity. Instinctively, his eyes closed, his hands flattening against the cold, glass window.

A glowing, pulsating halo of greenish-yellow light formed around his hands and began to grow larger, until it encompassed his entire body. From his pressing touch, the energy emanating from him began to soften and warble the glass. The glass appeared as if it were melting under the heat of a fully stoked kiln. As it bowed outwards, retreating away from him, the rivets upon the seal around the window began to flex under the strain. The door itself creaked, its top hinge began to bend—and yet, he kept pressing harder.

Grimacing, the set of Steven’s eyes so deep that they seemed about to implode; his jaw clenched so tightly that his bared teeth were bleeding, the bandaged cut on his forehead sending a steady stream of blood down his face showed the physical, outward effort being exerted.

With his muscles bulging to the point of bursting, his heart raced past 370 beats a minute—but like a bull elephant whose head was butted against the trunk of a deeply rooted tree; he sought only to push harder.

It was for Ashlyn’s life; it was for his life, that he saw himself braced against the nose of her ship straining to slow it. “I can’t let you go, Ash. I can’t!”

The reinforcement of his words enabled him to intensify his effort, his focus. His body trembled as he willed for more strength—strength that was given him under the guise of the herculean effort of his physical muscles.

With the subtlety of an exploding volcano, he let loose a scream driven by his fear of losing her. A massive second wave of energy exploded throughout him, empowering his mind to new levels. The veins in his temples rose terrifyingly, pulsing frantically to his heart that was now racing at over 780 beats a minute and increasing. His own blood was escaping through his pores and yet, his pained face showed only determined composure.

Such was his focus that his attention never waned to consider what he was doing, of what was actually happening. He was inwardly locked—and wouldn’t have noticed if Avenger had dissolved away beneath his feet.

Though his hands never left the glass, his mind not faltering, his stomach convulsed and he coughed up blood.

“I can’t let you—” with one last mighty push, he released every bit of energy within him—then collapsed unconscious to the deck.

***

Hearing Steven shout at her from within her mind, startled Ashlyn like nothing before ever had. Within their shared consciousness, she saw that he was willing to sacrifice all to save her.

“I’m sorry, my love. I can’t be responsible for Avenger’s death or that of your son!” Just as the time was about to expire, Gena announced, “1.983."

Though Ashlyn could not explain what had happened, it was enough to give her a fighting chance.

“Gena, abort self-destruct. Repeat, abort self-destruct.”

“Self-destruct aborted,” came Gena’s reply.

“Gena, maximum power to the shields. Cockpit coverage only.

My God, stand by me now!” Ash uttered quoting Melville’s Ahab, and like the harpoon belonging unto him, her craft came spearing out of the darkness into the bright light that was the whale’s heart.

Engaging the magnetic skids, her Sharkfin was pulled to the flight deck with a gut wrenching jolt. An ear-shattering screech filled the bay as her Sharkfin’s superheated skids left a trail of dancing orange and yellow shavings in its wake.

The first of three dampening fields did surprisingly little to slow her craft, but the jolt shattered the weaker parts attached to the fuselage, leaving them suspended midair in the field behind her.

Her fighter slid into the second, stronger field. The cannon on the nose of her fighter crumpled and tore away, just as her fighter exited the field.

As her fighter encountered the third and strongest field, her landing skids ripped away, and her craft descended to the deck where it leaned to its left, riding on its wingtip. The rotating intake blades of her left engine exploded, leaving a myriad of flaming debris in the field where it hung suspended. It was a spectacular visual effect.

The last barrier was a simple old-fashioned net. As the crumpled nose of her ship encountered the mesh, the net tightened, stretching as the hydraulic restraints extended nearly sixty meters. The growing tension ripped the net’s hardened steel alloy mounting brackets from the wall on her right side, freeing the net and sending her Sharkfin into a sweeping arc to the left.

Ashlyn’s fighter spun round, her craft heading fast toward the bulkhead. Her right wing struck the wall first, the force of the impact shearing the wing off at the fuselage. It twirled end over end into the air like a thrown knife. Touching the ceiling gently, it came crashing down atop her Sharkfin’s canopy with an ear deafening crunch.

Ashlyn heaved a sigh, taking her first breath since entering the bay. Peering through the small breaks in the netting, Ash watched as the external bay door closed for the last time.

The pressurization warning light in the bay changed from red to green. Ash touched her locket, deactivating her armor. In an instant, it retreated into the locket, pinned to her stretch.

The damage control team came rushing in through half a dozen entrances. Some ran to douse her craft in fire retardant spray, while others began laser cutting away the webbing trapping her craft.

Below her, she could see the med team in their familiar white uniforms waiting anxiously for the net to be cleared so that they could gain access to the cockpit.

As the net fell away, Ash hit the button cycling her canopy. Giving a thumb’s up, Ash exited, directing the med team to her passenger in the copilot’s seat beside her. It was with much anxiety that she hovered nearby, waiting until they announced Briggs was still alive.

The crew surrounded her, giving congratulations, the women hugged her, patting her back—while the men, almost religiously, slapped her butt.

Briggs, having awakened, caught sight of Ashlyn through the bodies of bustling medics. With a narrow grin and a weak thumb’s up, he thanked her.

Almost simultaneously, Ashlyn’s thoughts jumped to Steven. She turned searching for him, wondering why he wasn’t there.

Sensing he was still behind the pilot’s entry door, she broke away from the crowd around her. The weakness she felt in him, scared her, and she began running as she sensed he was in trouble. Nearing the door, she gasped. In the door’s glass were two distinct handprints, each of which was clouded with a light layer of condensation. She reached out, touching the glass with a single finger, doing so in reverence. It was warm, its texture altered to that of pliable plastic. The condensation on its surface was like a sultry body oil.

Seeing the window’s ruptured seal and popped rivets, the door bowing towards her, Ash marveled at the power that Steven possessed to have done such a thing.

Straining to pry the door open a bit, she awkwardly squeezed through. A few feet behind the door, she found Steven’s bloodied, crumpled body on the floor, unconscious.

Dropping beside him, she grabbed his wrist and felt for his pulse. “Oh my god!” were the only words she could utter when she saw how fast it was racing. Lifting his head, his face pale and his body covered in heavy, blood-laden sweat, she tried to rouse him. As if he were dead, his hand fell, rapping on the floor. His open palm revealed rippling, convulsing veins. Ash noted how the air above his hand was shimmering like the heated air above a hot desert road.

She held him tightly until his pulse slowed and he began to stir. He was drawing energy, strength from her touch.

His eyes opened to see Ashlyn.

“Steven, we have to get you up, we’re abandoning ship.”

“Abandoning ship?” Steven fought to see through the fog clouding his mind.

“It’s all right, don’t force it. Let’s sit you up against the wall.”

“Ash, is all this blood from me?”

“Five minute warning. All personnel should proceed immediately to an available escape pod,” came the warning over the public address system.

“Yes, it’s yours—but you’re fine. We really have to go.”

“Ash, we need to get to the bridge,” said Steven—in rising, his balance faltering.

“Easy there,” said Ashlyn. “Lean on my shoulder.”

“My cabin is on the way,” said Ash. “I need a minute to grab some clothes and things.”

“I need to go by my cabin too—I want to get out of these clothes. They’d be hard to explain to Phillip.”

Inside her cabin, Ash keyed in the numerical combination to her personal safe in the wall and removed a few small items.

In her dressing room as she quickly changed out of her black stretch. “Do you remember what happened? Do you know how you slowed my fighter down?”

“Yeah, I remember—I was afraid of losing you. When I heard you start the self-destruct sequence, I don’t know. It was instinctual. I didn’t know I was going to do it.”

“Well, I’ll thank you later,” she said as she emerged from the dressing room and headed toward the door. “Let’s get to your cabin.”

Making a quick stop by Steven’s cabin, Ashlyn helped him to get cleaned up and dressed. “Wish we had more time—I‘d love to take a shower with you,” said Ash.

“That makes three of us!” said Steven, smiling as he slid into his boxers.

Stratton’s voice came over the P.A. “Last call, all personnel are presumed to be in an escape pod. Launch will commence momentarily.”

Rushing onto the bridge, though they were more than a hundred million kilometers away, the image of LV-6 filled the screen. It was a world very different from Earth. Shades of tan and brown dominated with smaller areas of orange and red where the crust was broken and lava glowed. “Novacek, tell me what we’ve learned about the planet?”

“The planet is 2.1 percent larger than Earth—it’s gravity .87 Earth standard. Like the flagship, the atmosphere is 2.2 percent lower in oxygen than optimal, but fully compatible. Only .03 percent of the planet’s surface supports vegetation. The rest is all desert.

The enemy has one very large, occupied Citadel. At city center is a massive pyramid several times larger than the Great Pyramid of Giza.

The recon also found a number of larger, very ancient ruins, all of which are uninhabited. What’s odd is that the ruins are vastly superior in design and concept. It’s logical to assume that they were built by a more advanced society than the one that exists now.”

Adding to Novacek’s description, Stratton said, “And those older ruins are still fairly hot. Organic life would struggle to survive there, even now.

Best guess is that the radiation is a result of a cataclysmic battle thousands of years ago. The surface is globally pockmarked. Fractal patterns are consistent with those from atomic blasts—if launched from orbit. The blasts fractured the crust—it explains why the planet has so many areas of volcanic activity.

Scans show virtually no above ground water supply.

On a better note, the recon buoy has relayed the landing coordinates to the pods. The preliminary survey shows that we’ll have a defensible, uninhabited position—and—one that has water.”

“If it has water—,” said Steven.

“Then why is it uninhabited?” said Ashlyn looking at Steven and finishing his sentence for him.

“Looks like we’re about to find out,” said Steven.

“Sir,” said Stratton, “We’ve secured the Jupiter Class plasma cannon and the two Titan Class laser rifles from the weapon’s vault.”

“Good, if we’re all set then—launch the pods.”

Novacek made the final announcement to the crew, giving them a ten second warning before initiating the breakaway process.

Outside Avenger, one hundred and fifty pod bay doors opened. Seconds later, the pods in sequential order, began to cut loose. Once free, each pod’s programming engaged the thrusters, sending it to the designated landing coordinates.

“Sir, with all that’s been happening—I’d not had the chance to tell you that when we cut the Engineering Section loose, forty-seven people didn’t make it out,” said Novacek. “We also lost four others when the plates blew-out during our maneuver round the sun.”

Steven grimaced. So many lives—lost.

With all but the bridge team evacuated, Steven and Novacek initiated Avenger’s auto‑destruct.

***

“Phillip?” said Ashlyn patting his knee, “Can I hold your hand? I’ve never been in a pod before. It’s kind of scary.” Phillip’s face beamed, his own fears now evaporated.

After verifying the securement field was engaged and functioning, Steven hit the manual eject button. The pod broke away. A moment later, its powerful main thruster burst to life, rocketing them toward the planet.

Through the rear porthole, Steven was afforded one last glimpse of Avenger. You were right, Renee. Damn it all—you were right!

A pair of giggles rescued Steven from his sadness. In the absence of artificial gravity, Ashlyn’s hair had risen into the air. Following her example, Phillip scruffed his hair, making himself look like a hedgehog. In unison, Phillip and Ashlyn’s eyes turned to Steven.

“All right!” said Steven scruffing his hair for them.

“Looks like a bird’s nest,” said Phillip, the two of them laughing.

Ash shrugged her shoulders at Steven. “He’s right, it does!”

It wasn’t long before things settled down. They were all exhausted and before they knew it, they were asleep. The ride was fairly smooth and uneventful until they hit atmosphere.

Waking, Steven took hold of Phillip’s hand. Ashlyn put her hand out to Steven, completing the circle. Outside, the craft glowed red as its heat shield absorbed the friction-induced heat of a steep descent into a thickening atmosphere.

The pod experienced a series of strong jolts as the craft caught air, but their air-cushioned containment fields and auto-contouring seats made the back breaker ride seem no harder than being on a merry-go-round.

“Dad, I have to go to the bathroom!”

“I told you to use it before we left home, Son,” he said with a small smile. Some things never change.

The pods shuddering abated, and the three of them sat silently, listening to the sound of the jets making course corrections. Through the large front window, they watched the desert world grow closer until it was streaking by, thirty meters below them.

Long rows of dunes stretched between tall-spired towers. Canyons, log ago gutted by rivers, now sat dry, barren.

Six minutes later, the transponder signaled their pod’s passage over the beacon, and the pod dipped sharply as the braking flaps extended. They passed over a forested mountain, which abruptly disappeared, leaving them again staring at an endless sea of sand dunes and spires. The landing alert began flashing faster, signaling their imminent landing.

The glossy, black pod took a tiny skip off the sand before settling back to the ground, sliding sixty meters to a smooth stop, listing to its port side.

The two of them rose and as if they had done this a hundred times before, Steven and Ashlyn checked the gages. “104 degrees, 4 percent humidity, wind at 18 knots,” said Steven.

“Ready or not!” Ashlyn hit the open-hatch button. The sweltering heat outside swallowed the cool air inside the pod in one quick gulp. “Smells sweet, like grape jam.” Staring outside, he noted a faint pink tint to the sky.

Steven and Ashlyn, having verified the status of their weapons, each grabbed one of the emergency packs stowed beneath their seat. Ash quickly redistributed the E-packs items into her own personal, larger pack.

Steven jumped first, taking a quick survey of the area. He then turned to help Phillip down.

Ashlyn came next, and with a leap into his arms, he caught her about the waist.

The heels of his shoes sank deep into the sand. Off balance, he fell backwards, taking Ashlyn with him.

Landing atop Steven, Ashlyn teased, “Not the most graceful rescue of a damsel, but I guess I should be grateful that your saber wasn’t drawn, or you might have run me through.” Ashlyn arched her back so that it pressed her pelvis hard into him.

A tremor of induced passion ran down Steven's spine.

“Dad, I can hear everyone. They’re over here!” said Phillip as he scampered up and over a dune to join the others.

Ashlyn gave Steven one last flirtatious grind with her pelvis as she rose from atop him.

Reaching the dune’s crest, Steven studied the area. The pods were loosely strewn over a square kilometer of gullies and dunes, and the crew was slowly gathering on its southern edge.

Steven looked up at the sky.

“You thinking about Avenger?”

Steven nodded. “She was a good ship.” His eyes watered.

“It doesn’t mean you won’t see them again,” said Ash softly, knowing that he was in mourning for his wife and daughter.

Steven squeezed her hand.

From the landing area below, “Admiral, the beacon’s signal is coming from that direction,” shouted Chief Preston, pointing to the south.

While waiting for the last of the stragglers to join the group, Steven listened to the array of discussions and complaints about the pink-cast sky, the heat from the binary suns, being stranded and everything else in between before he let go with a loud whistle. “All right everyone, listen up. Our destination is two kilometers south of here. Keep a tight formation and a steady pace. We need to get to cover as quickly as possible. Commander Novacek, you have the lead.”

Novacek tousled Phillip’s hair. “D-did you have a g-good ride?”

“That reminds me!” Running off, out of sight from the crew, Phillip ducked behind one of the pods.

“I told him to go before he left home.”

Novacek looked at Steven, smiled and walked off laughing.

The suns, though low in the sky, bore down on them with an intense ferocity, as did the driving wind. Factor in the soft sand, the heavy packs, weapons, bundled supplies and personal items, it made each step strenuously torturous. Steven pushed the pace, fearing they could be attacked while out in the open.

Using the time while walking to think, Steven began to put the pieces together of what he had learned in the files provided by President Tomlinson. It was easy to imagine that this world had once been a vital and flourishing planet similar to Earth, with amazing technological cities built by the Anunnaki; now just ancient, abandoned reminders of what had once been—echoed in the aftermath of a destroyed world.

One kilometer into the trek, as Steven stood atop a dune scanning the forested area ahead with his binoculars, a shrill scream of mortal terror shattered the desiccated air behind him. Dropping his pack, Steven turned and ran to where the scream had come from. Breaking through the crowd, he arrived just in time to see a hand tear from a rescuer’s grasp and slip beneath the sand. The victim’s strained, crimped fingers clearly conveying the shock, terror and pain of a brutal death. The churning sand came to an abrupt stop, almost as if it were denying the incident had ever happened.

The human-chain of rescuers rose in near panic, wide eyes searching the ground. Their actions and the calm rational words from one of the crew sent a chill down Steven’s spine. “It was a spider, Admiral. Just like the ones on Earth. It came from under the sand.”

“Stratton, spread out the security team, heaviest concentration to the rear. Have them guard those who are lagging behind.”

Addressing the crew, “Everyone push hard for the mountain. Don’t stop in one spot—keep moving, your lives may depend on it!” With Ashlyn at his side, Steven grabbed Phillip’s hand.

Forty minutes later, Steven having assisted the last of the crew safely into the forest, realized how much they looked like shipwrecked survivors. Their faces were knotted, twisted into grotesque caricatures of their former selves, their legs trembling from the strenuous trek—their chests gasping for air due to the light atmosphere.

Seeing them, Steven recalled a quote from a novel about a shipwrecked crew that he had read years before, “The crew’s anguished sighs were like curses unto the hostile world to which they’d been cast—and in irreverent song did the wind whistling through the branches above them bid welcome.”

Seeing Phillip helping Ashlyn, who was dispensing water to the crew, He is so much like you, Renee. So much like you.

Ashlyn turned toward Steven and sitting beside him, she gave him a half-bottle of water.

To Steven, she was like a breath of fresh, mountain air on a sunny, winter morning. Her sight renewed his soul, invigorating him on a deeply, molecular level. He marveled at the chemistry that was at work between them.

Briggs, one crutch under his left arm, hobbled over to Ashlyn. “Ashlyn, I want to thank you for hauling my butt out of the frying pan up there! The guys told me what you did. I don’t want to know how you got me into your fighter—the thought of being in space with no suit scares the hell out of me. I owe you.”

“That’s what scares you? The man who strafed a destroyer all by himself!” They both laughed. “How are you feeling anyway?”

“Fantastic, considering the alternative. A couple of broken ribs, concussion and a twisted ankle. We ever get off this rock; I’ll be ready to fly again.”

“You’re a good pilot, Briggs. I hope we get that chance.” Ashlyn stood and gave him a hug. Briggs squirmed uncomfortably, straining to force his eyes away from her wobbling breasts and visible nipples thru her sheer-cotton blouse.

With an unreturned nod to the Admiral, Briggs walked away, leaving Ashlyn staring at Steven. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure. Something doesn’t feel right.” It was a feeling he couldn’t put into words. Rising, Steven called out, rousing the crew to stand. “Novacek, take the crew up into the rocks, on the mountain.”

“Everything all right?” said Novacek.

“Just a feeling. I’d rather be safe, than sorry,” said Steven.

Forty minutes later, the crew spread out round the boulders at the base of the mountain, Steven surveyed the surroundings. He plotted the movements the enemy would likely make, should they attack. The natural abutments would provide good defensive positioning if the enemy were to attack from the ground with conventional weapons.

Stratton approached, “Admiral, per your orders, we’ve placed two of our class 3 snipers atop the mountain. Each has a Titan rifle. And as you instructed, eighteen teams of two have been placed around the base of the mountain.

Tomlinson’s team has gathered the crew’s rations and is working out a schedule for distribution.”

“Good job, Stratt. Have the first watch relieved in four hours, thereafter every six. Any news on the beacon’s reported water source yet?”

“Nothing yet, sir, but we’ll find it.”

Thirty minutes later, while strolling through the makeshift camp, giving encouraging words to boost morale, Steven found Phillip hanging upside down from a tree eating M&M’s.

“I haven’t seen those in years! Where did you get them?”

“Ashlyn gave them to me,” he said, flipping to the ground. “Want some? They’re really good.”

“Ashlyn had M&M’s?” He took a few from Phillip. “Okay, those are really good.” Realizing that he hadn’t seen Ash recently, “Do you know where she is now?”

“She said she was going for a walk.”

“A walk? Did you see which way she went?”

“Yup,” Phillip pointed, “that way!”

Leaving Phillip in Novacek’s care, Steven headed off in the direction Phillip had pointed. Several minutes later with not a single misstep in the wrong direction, he found her at the forest’s edge, where it met the desert.

With an inspiring backdrop of gracefully, sweeping desert sand, he found Ashlyn sitting barefoot, atop a rock that had been polished by the driving winds until it glistened like glass.

He realized that Ashlyn had been right. Her hair had been short when he had seen her in the vision of this moment, on the podium. She was also right; in that, it was her breasts that he was staring at. The twin suns backlit her breasts with near perfect clarity through her shear cotton-blouse, his eyes tracing the outlines of her heavy underswells. They begged to be held.

Ashlyn was the embodiment of sensuality. She was a red rose growing out of granite, amber rays of sunlight doing obeisance to her. Her eyes were closed, her face soaking in the last, radiating warmth of the setting suns.

Steven looked up as the branches above him rustled and a faint, passing breeze sent a sprinkling of purple leaves teetering to the ground around him.

“Hello Pinocchio!”

His eyes lowered to see that she was watching him, her gaze staring at the bulge of his aroused shaft.

Barefoot, Ashlyn rose, desire basting her lips like glistening honey. With each step she took toward him, she unfastened a button of her blouse. As if it were accommodating his wishful thoughts, a soothing, warm gust of wind swept the sides of her blouse behind her, letting him behold her.

Unsnapping the button of her blue jeans, she wriggled out of them, doing the same to her lace panties a moment later.

It took Steven only seconds to slip off his unbuttoned, blue military over-shirt, and raise the black polo beneath, over his head, removing it. Having kicked off his shoes, he went for the snap of his pants, but Ashlyn shook her head, no.

Pushing him a step backward, so that his back was against the smooth trunk of a large tree, Ashlyn stood before him, his bare chest fueling the flames of her passion.

Unsnapping the button of his pants, Ashlyn’s nipples ever so slightly brushing against his chest, her hand slowly slid his zipper down. She could feel his hardness beneath. It entranced her.

Embracing, their lips met in a passionate kiss.

Ashlyn, seeing his thoughts and hopeful expectations began a slow descent down his chest, leaving a sensual trail of tender kisses. Settling her knees into the soft bed of purple leaves, she lowered his pants and boxers, “You’ve been telling lies, Pinocchio—lots and lots of lies!”

Ok, I’m impressed—really impressed. Ashlyn knew his extra-heavy engorgement was due to how badly he had wanted her to do this to him.

Ashlyn too, had been in desirous anticipation of this moment.

Lowering him to her lips, she kissed the tip of his shaft then began circling round it. Her stabbing tongue moistened him, licked him. Intermixed with kisses, her wiggling tongue found his sensitive spot on the underside of the tip of his shaft. She tormented him with endless tickles that raced up and down his spine.

As his passions released a small taste of him to her, a craving for more, unexpectedly exploded inside her. Her lips surrounded the tip of his shaft, rotating round him, searching for more of the honeysuckle like sweetness—her fingers gently began stroking the hanging boys, coaxing him to release more.

Steven’s shaft throbbed in response, his hips involuntarily canting toward her gentle strokes—his body was begging her for more intensity, he wanted her be rough and powerful with them. He wanted to feel her passion and desire for them.

With spread lips, her wagging tongue moistening him, she kissed her way down the length of his cock. Holding him erect, her tongue found his balls. Playfully, she kissed them, lapped them. Her lips began a game of catch and release, sucking on first one, and then the other.

Steven gasped, as she sucked both of them fully inside her mouth, locking them behind her teeth. Groan after groan escaped him as outwardly, she tugged them—while inwardly, her quivering tongue toyed with them.

He shook raggedly as she began sucking them, hard—her throat and tongue muscles crushing them against her palate with each attempt to swallow.

Steven was pulsing furiously, each throb engorging him yet more.

Ashlyn was ablaze, she had not thought it possible that his large cock could get any bigger, and yet, under her control, she had watched him growing. Her hand could feel each throbbing pulse making him harder, bigger. Her fingers had lost control of him—not even close to encircling him.

Steven’s body was shaking, trembling, the pain of his engorgement extreme.

Seeing his readiness, Ashlyn’s hand began sliding faster up and down his length.

Within moments, her mouth sucking his balls hard, Ashlyn’s hand sliding furiously fast up and down his slippery cock, she felt his orgasm starting to surge.

Suddenly, Steven’s perceptions slowed. What was about to happen in a matter of seconds, he could now focus on as if each emotion and movement were an individual event. It was wondrous.

On the brink of climatic ecstasy—he felt Ashlyn’s mouth release his balls, and in one quick motion, she went entirely down, swallowing his cock.

Oh my god! How—how did she swallow it? It’s so tight—so incredibly tight. So—amazingly soft!

He looked down in awe, seeing himself seated fully inside her throat, her nose flattened against his abdomen, her chin pressed firmly against his balls.

Her throat is so soft—so hot! It feels so good!

Steven took an inhaling gasp as Ashlyn’s specialized muscles began to work their magic upon him. In perfect timing to his first release inside her—her muscles began extricating his seed, drawing it out of him in explosive bursting pulses that were harder and quicker than he thought possible. She was literally sucking his seed from him, giving him an endless orgasm.

The vibrating tip of her tongue added to the seduction, tickling the top of his sack that was lying atop her lower lip, coaxing the seed from him. It was as much for his pleasure as it was to satisfy her own craving. She now felt an unquenchable thirst, a thirst that was now a need.

Ash continued until his trembling, ravaged body could take no more.

Only then did she allow herself to focus on having her own orgasm. Rising, she threw her arms around his neck.

Steven wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

Wrapping her legs round his hips, she was ready for him to take her. Bowing backwards away from him, her arms stretched straight, a firm grasp upon his forearms—she assumed a position of total and complete surrender to him. She lay in his arms, her breasts pointed at the sky.

He thrust himself into her rapaciously, selfishly, greedily. Yet, for Ashlyn, it was what she desired. It was what she hungered for. It was what her soul craved.

Ashlyn’s soft screams were endless, and her orgasm was as endless as her screams. He thrust furiously, endlessly, letting her feel safe in the depth of her lust.

Ashlyn’s shrill sighs filled the air as he exploded hard, again and again inside her.

Lying upon the ground, coddled in each-other’s arms, they fought to gather their breath, “Someday, I’ll unleash everything on you.”

“There’s more? Seriously?”

“Yup, but unless you’re ready for it, you’d pass out,” teased Ashlyn through a sexy smile.

Chapter 13

As they arrived back in camp, Stratton spotted them and approached. “Admiral, I was getting worried. I wanted to send out a search party, but Novacek said not to.”

“Why were you so worried?” asked Steven.

“You were gone three hours,” said Stratton, glancing first at Ashlyn then over to Steven.

Novacek overhearing their conversation as he walked up, Phillip at his side. “See Stratt, told you not to worry.” Turning to Steven, “How did the training go?”

Steven read Novacek like a book, grateful he was covering for him.

“Great. Ashlyn asked me to go over the basic rules of engagement. So I showed her what to do when facing an enemy of superior size; how much force to apply to generate the proper response; how to use the terrain to advantage; when to retreat, when to attack and how to interrogate a prisoner.”

“Do you remember the lesson to the latter, Ash?”

“Yes, sir. First, isolation, which often requires putting the prisoner into a dark area of confinement, making him more submissive to interrogation, where at that point I am authorized to use any force I deem necessary to extract the desired information. The end result being to make the prisoner open to suggestion so that he will do anything I tell him to,” answered Ashlyn. “It didn’t work on my prisoner though. The poor little fellow fainted; just flopped right over—couldn’t get up.”

“Aren’t you the clever girl.” “Yeah, well it was your first time. You’ll get better,” said Steven.

“I’ll get better?” Ashlyn parroted silently to Steven, giving him a playfully indignant stare.

“I see,” said Novacek, smiling. “Perhaps next time I should train you. Extracting information from a prisoner is easy—it’s a head game. You need to get inside his head—find his weak spot and play with it. He’ll sing like a canary.” Novacek threw Steven and Ashlyn a wink, knowing they wouldn’t be offended.

Stratton looked crushed and all three of them noticed.

“Stratton has a crush on you, Ash. Had I known, I wouldn’t have said all that.”

“I didn’t know either, not until now.”

Novacek opened the door, “Anyway, Admiral—Tomlinson found a cave. Its entrance is about three-quarters of the way up the east face. Solomon is waiting to take you up there, if you’re still up to it after your little romp?”

Steven tipping his head to Ashlyn, “Can you watch Phillip for me?”

“Of course.”

Novacek leaned over to Ashlyn and quietly whispered, “The prisoner must have put up a little fight; he knocked the buttons on your blouse off one notch.”

Ashlyn quietly mouthed, “thank you.”

Retrieving his pack, Steven followed Solomon up the mountain to Tomlinson, who was waiting for him.

“Admiral, I cleared the entrance away enough so that we can get through.”

“Here, sir. Take these,” said Solomon, handing him a sheathed machete and flashlight. “We only have a few of these, wish we had more.”

“Thanks. Solomon, get some help to clear the rest of the brush away from the entrance,” ordered Steven. Clipping the sheath to his belt, he pulled the machete, “Ok, Tomlinson, lead the way.”

The entrance was narrow, barely more than a shoulder-width slit between the boulders. Once inside, they found that it was much wider and easily traversed. Not surprisingly with each step down the tunnel’s descending, twisting turns, the temperature grew cooler. The walls and floor were damp and covered in patches of moss. Occasionally, Tomlinson would stop to chop away a root that was blocking their path.

The two of them discussed the smoothness of the floor and walls, both agreeing that it was an artificial, constructed passageway. It was also apparent that the tunnel hadn’t been used in hundreds, if not thousands of years.

They were forty meters in when they noticed the sound of running water. Without need for discussion, the men began moving faster, anxious to see what was ahead.

Within minutes, the tunnel opened out upon a large cavern. Very humanlike stairs cut into the rock, descended to a sand beach with a gently, flowing river about fifteen meters across. The water entered through a large fissure several meters above the cavern floor to their right; then exited through an even larger opening, sixty-five meters to their left.

Kneeling on the smooth sand at the river’s edge, Steven cupped a handful of water. Raising it to his lips, he prepared to take a sip.

“Sir, you really shouldn’t. It could have bacteria in it,” warned Tomlinson. “It should be boiled at the very least.”

“Squeak, squeak!”

Tomlinson looked at Steven with questioning eyes.

“I’m a guinea pig.”

Tomlinson chuckled, especially when Steven added, “Wait until you have kids, it tends to dumb-down your humor.

However, you’re right, Tomlinson. The thing is, we only have two days of rations. It’s only a matter of time.” Though he wasn’t sure how he knew, he felt sure the water was safe. Taking first one handful, then another. “It’s—great. Nice and cool.”

“It looks like we’ve found a new home.”

The cavern was more than Steven could have hoped for; they had water and a defensible shelter out of the extreme heat.

Hours later, the crew safely moved inside the cavern, dusk crept into night. As Steven and the crew prepared to settle in for some sleep, an out of breath sentry approached, “Admiral, the lookouts have spotted two enemy craft,” adding, “It’s too bad the radios don’t work in here.”

Steven had to smile.

Following the sentry to the northern watch, Steven found that Novacek was already there, binoculars in hand. Though the sky was dark, the aircraft’s silhouettes could be seen, hovering in the distance.

“They haven’t m-moved in t-ten m-minutes,” said Novacek.

“They’re scouts, waiting for rein-” said Steven as a shout from one of the higher watches interrupted him.

“Sir, there’s four more approaching from the west.”

“And there’s the cavalry. I’m surprised it took them so long to get here.”

They watched the ships sweep over the area, lights shifting from pod to pod on the desert floor.

“I wonder what they are t-thinking?” said Novacek. “They’ve got to know we’re here at the m-mountain.”

“They’ll wait for daylight. Too risky to approach at night,” answered Steven.

“Guess you’re r-right, looks like they’re l-leaving,” said Novacek as the six fighters streaked away.

Steven took note that they had departed to the southeast, the same direction that led to the planet’s primary city.

“You should get some rest, Admiral. I’ve got this for tonight.”

Steven nodded in agreement, “Wake me if they return.”

“B-by the way,” Novacek added, “I was s-speaking to Mr. O’brien earlier. His r-research revealed that there are t-times when this planet only has an hour of darkness, due to the orbital p-path around the binary suns. He says that we were lucky—that right now we’re in a s-seven hour s-solar cycle of darkness which allows it to s-cool off at night. Also, the s-suns are low on the h-horizon.

So if you think it’s hot n-now—wait until s-summer.”

“Thanks,” said Steven. “Keep me up to date on information like that.”

Steven returned to the cave to get some much-needed rest. Snuggling up next to Phillip who was fast asleep, lying beside Ashlyn—Steven’s eyes closed.

Steven awoke late the next morning to the sound of Ashlyn singing and playing a rousing tune on her Balalaika. Slipping his boots on, Steven headed toward the chorus of homegrown musicians who had joined her in accompaniment around a warm fire. It was as festive a gathering as he had seen in years. The entire crew was enjoying her rendition of one Steven’s new favorite songs. As she sang, “In the midnight hour, she cried more, more, more,” her eyes found Steven’s.

Adding to Ashlyn’s joyous distraction, Phillip came exuberantly running up, “Dad, Dad, we caught a fish! Novacek says it is a trout fish. I don’t know what he meant, but he said something about it being a rainbow.”

Phillip’s news spread through the crew, bringing the cheerful gathering to an abrupt halt. Scrambling feet, motivated by empty stomachs carried everyone down to the river with eager anticipation.

No one was more surprised than Steven to see that it really was a trout. The species had disappeared on Earth over a century before and it was exciting to see the wriggling, flopping fish.

Steven, standing beside Novacek. “Beautiful—isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. I saw one in a m-museum once, though this one is b-bigger and more c-colorful than the one I remember,” said Novacek.

“It looks like we found a food source,” said Steven smiling, adding, “Any further update from the watches?”

“No, sir. Nothing n-new outside. But, we d-did d-d-discover a map.” He looked at Steven with a twinkling gleam in his eyes. “It’s p-pretty simplistic, and there isn’t all that much to it, but the fact that it exists at all … is interesting. T-to see it though, you’ll have to s-swim to the other s-side of the river. It’s in an alcove that b-bends round the corner. You’ll find it hidden b-behind a large b-boulder towards the back.”

Stripping down to his boxers, flashlight strapped about his wrist, Steven swam to the other side of the river.

At the back of the alcove, kneeling before the wall behind the boulder, Steven’s fingers slid down the smooth rock facing, following the beam of his flashlight. He found the small map near the bottom of the wall. It was little more than something that a child might have drawn. As Novacek had said, it was simplistic.

Their mountain was clearly defined, as was the planet’s primary city, represented by a pyramid, far to the southeast. A winding, crudely drawn, broken line connected the two points.

Steven pondered the map’s simplicity and wondered what the motive might have been for drawing it. It seemed to serve no apparent purpose.

Seeing that the green moss had grown right up to the eastern edge of the mountain, he thought to himself, Another hundred years and we might never have—I wonder. Reaching out, he ran his fingers over it. Tugging at the moss, he began peeling it away, piece by piece. His mind raced with anticipation. When he actually saw the beginnings of a diverging path, the exhilaration of discovery rushed through him.

The new trail, represented by a double wavy line, symbolized the river. As he pulled off the next piece of moss, Steven found the point where the river trail ended and the beginnings of an overland trail began. Yanking off the remaining moss, he saw that the trail continued in a southeasterly direction. There were varied landmarks along the way—leading to a biblical reference at the end of the trail—a flaming tree.

Steven jumped as a hand gently touched his shoulder. Without needing to look, he knew from the sensual tingle that it was Ashlyn.

In turning, Steven’s eyes fell upon her long trim legs that led upwards to her wet, sheer, white-lace panties. Time, literally, slowed to a standstill around Steven. Ashlyn stood before him, frozen, unmoving. He studied her unabashedly, unhindered. His mouth moistened, his tongue feigning a stab as if it were already between her soft folds. It was a sight of pure seduction. Droplets of glistening water adorned her goose-bumped skin. One droplet’s lingering trail led upwards over her flat belly until it disappeared beneath the loose, protruding edge of her wet midi t-shirt.

The sight of her heavy breasts and the bump of her cold nipples beneath shattered the frozen moment in time. Looking into her eyes, he saw her acquiescent, longing. Ashlyn’s erratic breathing showed she was waiting for his touch.

“Am I interrupting you,” said Ashlyn in apology.

“No, I’m glad you came,” he said with a last glance at the plumped swells between her legs.

“I haven’t. Not in the last twelve hours anyway,” she said as she playfully pinched the lobe of his ear. In bending to sit beside him, her hand caressingly slid down his shoulder to his leg, her touch melting him.

Steven turned off his flashlight.

Hidden from the sight of the crew, a soft orange reflection from the campfires across the river providing a comforting warmth, Ash slipped off her t-shirt and gently pushed him onto his back. Her craving had returned, stronger than before.

***

Forty-five minutes later, having returned across the river, they donned their dry clothes. With only an exchange of glances between them, Steven watched her walk away, prisoner to her every move.

“Sir? Admiral?”

“Yes?” said Steven absentmindedly.

Novacek smiled as he glanced in Ashlyn’s direction. “So, what d-did you think about the m-map?”

“They had goosebumps.”

“Goosebumps?” Novacek chuckled. “S-she does have inc-c-c-credibly nice goosebumps.” His honesty returned Steven to reality. “Sir, if I m-may be so b-bold. Our r-ride home is g-gone. There’s no reason to b-believe that we’re ever g-g-going to leave this r-rock. Our lives here w-will b-be very tough even with such, goosebumps. And t-they may be short-lived lives at t-that.

I don’t know Renee very well, but I k-know she’d w-want you to be h-happy.”

“Those were Renee’s exact words to me.”

“S-s-sir?”

“She gave Phillip a recorded message. She had a vision. In it, she saw that Avenger was going to be destroyed and that I wasn’t going to be returning to Earth. She saw that Ashlyn and I were going to fall in love. She said it was our destiny and that I shouldn’t try to change it. She gave us her blessing.

She had the vision at the same moment I was meeting Ashlyn for the very first time, at the Awards ceremony. So there was no way for her to have assumed anything.”

“Interes-s-sting.” Novacek’s brow raised. “Maybe Renee was r-right, maybe it is d-destiny.”

After only a brief pause, “Novacek, are you up for a night trek?”

He nodded.

“In four hours, it’ll be dark. I want you to take eighty men back to the pods and if they are still intact, strip them of all the rafts you can carry. If the Grays or the Nephilim decide to engage us, we might need to move the crew out the back door.”

“Speak-king of the Nephilim. That f-file you gave me to r-read had some rather rough c-concepts. Did you also get the feeling that s-something was missing from the President’s s-story?”

“I did. I think President Tomlinson believed it though. But, like you say, there was something missing,” said Steven.

“And—by the b-back door. You mean go d-down that hole? D-down the river?”

“I know—the idea makes me nervous too, but the map is bigger then what you saw. There’s a second trail,” said Steven.

“Even so—a t-travel route d-drawn on a map that might be t-tens of thousands of years old doesn’t inspire much c-confidence for me, sir.”

“Nor I, but we should be prepared, just in case.

Novacek, when you head out to the landing site, be cautious. It’s just a feeling I have, but something doesn’t feel right. When you get there, rest the team. Use the time to observe the pods before you approach. Take both of the Titan rifles along.”

“Aye, sir. We’ll take it s-slow.”

***

Novacek, addressing the team, “We will observe only, r-repeat, observe only, the pods for t-thirty minutes b-before we move in. Use the t-time to rest, y-you’ll n-need it for the return leg.

T-team leaders, set up your s-spotters on whatever h-high g-ground you can find. Baker and Charlie t-team split left. T-tango and Cash, split r-right. Mama Bear, will follow P-Papa Bear up the center.

Radios are for emergency use only. We don’t want any broadcasts if at all possible.

All right everyone, m-move‑out.”

At their positions, around the landing area, they waited. Twenty minutes later, a runner from Baker team reported to Novacek, “Sir, Ensign Vasquez said he saw movement inside one of the pods.”

“Inside? D-did he see w-what it w-was?”

“He’s not sure. It wasn’t much more than a shadow. The fact that he saw something move was all he could say for sure.”

He thought of Steven’s warning. “Give word t-to our units to stay p-put an extra t-t-twenty minutes. If a grain of sand shifts, report back to me.”

They waited patiently, watching. Novacek trusted his men, and if they thought they saw something then he accepted it as gospel.

As the twenty minutes expired, the teams sent a runner requesting further instructions. Novacek moved up the dune to the sniper with the Titan rifle. “Hansen, have you s-s-seen anything t-through the scope?”

“No, sir. It’s deserted. It’s easy for the eyes to play tricks with all the shadows down there.”

“I hope you’re r-right.” Novacek slid down to the waiting runners. “T-tell Vasquez to b-blow up the p-pod he s-saw movement in. Let’s see w-what happens. Warn your units about w-what we’re d-doing, and that we’ll initiate t-the attack in three m-minutes. Tell t-them to be p-prepared for return f-fire.”

Atop the hill, Vasquez took control of the second Titan rifle, setting it to full power. Targeting the pod, he pulled the trigger. In a flash, it exploded in a ball of flames. Amidst the explosion, a small, shrill scream could be heard coming from inside the flaming pod.

Instantaneously, return laser fire erupted from a dozen or more pods. The heavy volley of return fire that pummeled Vasquez’s position surprised all of them.

Knowing they didn’t have time to engage in a lengthy fire-fight, Novacek gave the order to destroy any pod in which the enemy was hiding. He was thankful Steven had ordered him to take the heavy assault rifles. With the briefest touch, the pods exploded in a ball of flame. It wasn’t long before the Nephilim began to evacuate the pods in favor of natural cover, little as it was. Within minutes, the skirmish was over.

The teams moved quickly, following their orders to strip the pods of their life rafts—and as they were able, Novacek ordered the team to gather any alien weapons they could carry. Overall, the mission was a huge success. Some 94 rafts and 4 undamaged enemy weapons retrieved.

An hour before sunrise when the detachment returned to the forest’s perimeter, per security instructions, a signal was sent to the stationed sentries who were waiting for their return. When no reply came, Novacek picked five of his team to accompany him into the forest, leaving the others waiting behind. Beneath the shroud of trees, the darkness was intense. With little choice, they forged ahead, their flashlights illuminating the way. Twenty meters in, they found the first body—face down.

Novacek turned the body of the young man over. A small white spider came crawling out of his mouth. It was the size of a thumbnail with two black eyes that sat on the end of long, flexible, yellow stocks.

“There’s a dead one on his shirt.” From the spider’s squished body, a clear fluid oozed. “It’s blood is dissolving his shirt, like acid.”

“There’s another one!” said a scared voice in the darkness behind Novacek.

All eyes shifted, following the path of the flashlight as it scanned the trunk of a nearby tree. A dozen or more scurried away from the flashlight’s touch, reacting to its brightness. No one took so much as a breath as the lights moved higher into the leafed branches above. “Everybody run!” said Novacek. Above them, thousands, tens of thousands of spiders were in the process of lowering themselves down on near invisible web strings.

A pained scream like none Novacek had ever heard before came from Private Withers to his right. “It bit me!” he screamed, trying to swipe it away. The more he flailed, the more it seemed to excite the myriad of descending spiders.

Novacek stopped to help—in the process, his swaying flashlight illuminated several that were scurrying up his pant legs at sprinters speed. The flashlight became a swatter, batting them away. A sudden tickle under his collar panicked him. He could feel the spider crawling. Slapping his neck several times and not forgetting that the spiders had an acidic poison, he expected to feel horrifying pain from the blotch of moisture he felt clinging to his skin.

Novacek was a flurry of emotions and movement. He was waiting for the pain from the acid, searching frantically for other spiders that might be about to bite. Least of all, did he know that he was running until one of the men in front of him collapsed and he was sent tumbling to the ground, having tripped over the man’s thrashing body.

Breaking clear of the forest, Novacek ripped off his shirt and found at least four more clinging to the back of it. A quick wide blast from his hand laser, and the spiders and shirt burst into flames.

When a winded Jenkins came running up to him from out of the darkness, Novacek damn near fired on the kid.

The retrieval team, waiting for Novacek’s return, having heard the screams, came running to their aid. By the time they arrived, there was nothing that could be done.

Of the team of five that ventured into the forest, only Novacek and Jenkins had survived. Two, Novacek had seen die. The fifth man he had never seen fall but without a doubt he knew that he was dead.

Novacek thought it likely the spiders were nocturnal, so he decided to make the team wait until an hour after daybreak before again entering the forest.

***

At first glance, Novacek’s bare-chested appearance seemed almost comical. Only the intensely sad and worn look on his face said differently. As Steven neared Novacek, he saw that Novacek was wearing a woman’s white gold, solitaire diamond ring on a necklace about his neck. The fact that he had been married was something Steven had never known.

“The watches reported seeing explosions. What happened?”

Novacek began to relate the story of the spiders’ attack and then lastly, the ambush.

“Stratton, have we heard from our lookouts recently?”

Stratton was in his own discussion with the members of the returning team when Steven made the inquiry of him. “Yes sir, I made the rounds with them just a few minutes ago.”

“Okay. Stratt, send runners to tell the teams not to go into the forest. And Stratt, get a team to prep four of the rafts, full provisions, ASAP.”

“Aye, sir. Will do.”

Steven, thinking aloud, using Novacek as a sounding board, “The spiders are nocturnal, they like darkness, like those on Earth. They stay in the forest but don’t come up into the rocks. It’s a hatchery. That’s why the Nephilim stay away from here. We walked right into their nest.” Steven shuddered. “I sensed death down there. I didn’t pay attention to my instincts.”

“It’s not your fault, sir. No one knew.” Novacek’s eyes glazed over in remembrance of what he’d seen. “They’re weaker than the adults on Earth. When it bit Private Withers, he didn’t get the Rage—instead, the venom attacked his lungs. I saw pink foam spewing from his mouth. There is also a difference in that while the adults can excrete fluids that will burn through solid steel—the hatchling’s body fluid only burned a hole through my clothing, with no effect on my skin. I know—I squashed one on my neck.

Your advice to observe the pods before approaching was rather amazing. Without it, a lot of us might have been killed.

Overall, we accomplished what we set out to do. We recovered 94 rafts and a few of the enemies weapons.”

Listening to Novacek, Steven began to question why, after all the years they had worked together, they had never become good friends? He was seeing a new side to Novacek, a human side. “Novacek, I wanted to say that I’m sorry we haven’t gotten to know each other better before now. You’re a good man. I’m honored to know you—you deserved more from me. I’m sorry.” Steven put his hand out.

“As am I.” They shook hands. Novacek continued, “It’s funny, but I was thinking much the same thing while walking in the desert last night.”

Both men smiled. Steven jumped the conversation ahead. “I should tell you that I’ve sent a transponder down the river. It’s been transmitting for almost five hours now.”

“I knew that was coming, sir.”

“Am I that easy to read?” said Steven not waiting for an answer, “I’ve decided to take a team of twenty down the river and see where the trail on the map leads.

If the map is accurate, we’ll eventually be forced to leave the river and trek on foot. When we reach that moment, I’ll send a series of three separated pings, at precisely five-minute intervals. If the signal stops or you don’t receive those three pings then it means we’ve run into trouble and that the river route is too dangerous to take.

I expect to return within six weeks, but if we don’t, then you’ll have to make some choices. Whatever happens, try to find Enlil, take him down.”

“May I ask, what’s your objective? What are you looking for?” asked Novacek.

“There’s a new symbol on the map that I uncovered. I want to check it out. Something tells me, that I need to see it.”

“A new symbol?” asked Novacek.

“I’m reluctant to say what it is; my guess might taint your judgment. You should look at it; see what conclusion you come up with.” Through a heavy sigh, “I have a big favor to ask you?” said Steven.

“Phillip?” said Novacek anticipating the question. “It would be my pleasure. So I assume Ashlyn is going with you then?”

“Yes. I can’t in good conscience take Phillip down that hole based on a hunch. It’s too risky.”

“Agreed. I’ll teach him how to catch a fish. He’ll be fine.

I’d always wanted to have children,” said Novacek softly, reminiscently. “It’ll be fun to borrow Phillip for a few weeks.”

“Gordon, the ring on your necklace? You were married?”

“A long time ago,” Novacek said in a tone that betrayed a great depth of sadness.

“Can I ask what happened?” said Steven daring to intrude on his privacy.

“Her name was Jennifer. She was so vibrant—she loved music, sunshine.” His mind could be seen drifting to a far off place. “She was murdered by a gang in Britain three days after we were married. They made me watch what they did to her. I couldn’t do anything.” His inward struggle to banish the images from his mind was clearly evident as his hand made a tight fist around the ring. “This is all that I have left of her.”

“I’m sorry, Gordon. I didn’t know.” Everyone has their burdens to carry; some are just heavier than others.

“How long before you go?” said Novacek, letting Steven off the hook.

“As soon as Stratt has the rafts ready—and I talk to Phillip.”

Walking together, they found Phillip playing poker with a few of the crew. “Don’t let him steal your shirt, guys,” Steven quipped to the officers who were obviously perturbed at their string of losses to an eight-year-old.

“Hey! Don’t listen to him, Phillip. Go ahead and win a shirt for me,” said a chuckling, bare-chested Novacek.

When Phillip’s winning hand was over. “Son, I need to speak with you.” Poker faces notwithstanding, the men all beamed at Phillip’s departure.

Sitting side-by-side, “I’m going to be leaving for a while, Son.”

“Where are you going?”

“Down river. I’m going to try and get us some help.”

“Can I go with you?”

“Not this time, buddy. I need to travel fast. I want you to wait here.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I really don’t know. It’s a long way. It could be a few weeks. Gordon is going to watch you while I’m away. I want you to promise me that you’ll do whatever Gordon tells you, all right?”

Phillip nodded, closing the deal with a tight hug and a kiss.

***

With the rafts about to depart, Ashlyn walked up and threw her bag of gear into Steven’s raft. Dressed in her black, one-piece stretch, sheathed knives adorning her black, lace-up armguards—she fought the chill in the air by donning a tight, black, leather midi jacket.

“Ash, the knives? You’re trained to use them in combat?”

“What do you think I was doing all those years at the Foundation? We went through a wide array of rigorous training programs. That’s why the training for the Sharkfin came so easy. Not a lot different from what I’d learned.”

“That explains a whole lot,” said Steven. I should have realized.

As the goodbyes began, “Phillip, can you take care of my balalaika while I’m gone?

A close friend gave it to me, and I don’t trust anyone but you to watch it. I talked to Hitch and she said that if you want to learn how to play, she’ll teach you. Would you like to do that?”

“Yeah! I would.”

“Phillip, I love you!” Wrapping her arms around him, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He returned the hug along with a few tears.

“Al-l-l-a-a-aboard. Last call, the RMS Titanic is ready for departure,” ribbed Reeves.

After saying his own last goodbye to Phillip, Steven climbed into the raft, taking up an oar.

“Hooyah!” said Ashlyn as she climbed in, taking a seat near Steven.

“Hooyah!” shouted Avenger’s crew in enthusiastic response.

“Brummon, we’ll start with your raft on point. Keep your bow flood on, and warn us of any dangers. We’ll rotate lead every four hours.

Tomlinson, Reeves, keep the floods pointed at the ceiling. The ambient light will illuminate the tunnel for us,” said Steven.

“These oars are for the pits. It’s like they were made for Oompa Loompa’s or something,” grumbled the sandy-haired Brummon.

With the rafts loaded, they shoved off. The entire crew had gathered to say goodbye. Novacek stood with his hand atop Phillip’s shoulder, waving until the rafts disappeared from sight.

“He’s a good kid,” said Ashlyn.

“And he really loves you, Ash”

“And I love him.”

Not a hundred meters down the tunnel, Steven realized with a start that Novacek had told the story about the desert trek and his wife without stuttering.

***

Hours later they reached the first fork in the river, a fork to the right that Steven knew from the map to be a dead-end. It was the first marker on the map by which to chart their progress. He also saw that if it was to scale, they still had a very, long way to travel yet.

Over the next days, the jokes having all been told, the life’s stories having all been exchanged, the subject of religion exhausted and the glorious highlights of sporting events relived, the team grew sullen. Minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like days. Sleeping became a way to pass the time as did waking become the harbinger of despair. The hopeful illusion of walking in the sunshine evaporating upon awakening.

Every noise echoed endlessly, abrasively. Any conversation above that of a whisper became an annoying public discourse. Even the water lapping against the raft was like the constant ticking of a clock.

The occasional side-trip to use the bathroom became a cause for celebration and the chance to rid some energy.

Ashlyn had taken to teaching Tai at each stop, explaining that the meditative techniques helped to free the mind and body of anxiety.

On the twelfth day of their journey, the rafts strung out over a distance of seventy-five meters, Steven’s raft was third in the line out of four, when they heard a shout of warning from the lead raft. The tranquil ride of the trek began to change. The tunnel narrowed. The water began moving faster, becoming choppier. Steven yelled for everyone to clip their flashlights to their belts even as the raft sped down the narrowing chute.

Suddenly the raft was pitched high into the air. It landed hard, and then bounded off the wall, spinning them round. The churning rapids were tossing them violently, throwing them into the walls and vaulting them into the air.

In near total darkness, over the din of crashing waves, Steven and his crew heard faint screams from the team aboard the first raft as they went over a waterfall—and only a brief moment later, the shouts from the second raft.

Steven’s raft jolted as it came to the edge, “Jump out as far as you can!” screamed Steven, going on intuition. As the raft lurched away from beneath them, Ashlyn’s grasp upon Steven’s arm tore away.

There was no sense of up or down, only tumbling through the air.

Pitched into the water, his feet settling upon the soft, sandy bottom, he felt a twinge of pain. He rose into a world of near total darkness. Spinning round, he frantically shouted Ashlyn’s name. He could sense her anxiety, her helplessness. A roving flashlight twinkled brightly as it scanned past him and then back again, stopping on him. So intent was his focus that he barely registered the sound of someone plodding through the water, of people talking to him as they pulled him to shore.

Around him, screaming shouts tried to warn the last raft that was at the precipice. “Jump, jump out as far as you can!”

The crew on the beach had two flashlights illuminating the rocks at the base of the falls. Steven gasped as he saw two crumpled, broken bodies, one with his skull split in two, the other with his arm severed—neither of them more than a twisted husk. As Steven was looking at those who were dead on the rock, a third crewman landed squarely between them. His rib bones splintered, thrust upwards they exploded in a bloody pulp through his shirt. His last scream echoed long after his final breath.

“Admiral, you’ve got to sit down!”

“Ashlyn!” Steven screamed her name out as he scanned the shadows, hoping that she was one of those safely ashore. “Has anyone seen Ashlyn?”

“No, sir. We haven’t found her yet.”

“Another raft! Grab it!” someone yelled.

A dark, shadowy figure came crawling up out of the water, dragging the dead body of yet another crewman behind. Steven felt ashamed, but relieved to see that it wasn’t Ashlyn.

“Ash!” Steven shouted into the darkness, a surge of rising panic tightening his chest.

There was no answer.

“Ash! Ash! Where are you?” shouted Steven frantically as he walked back into the river. Swiping away the heavy mist from the falls that was clouding his eyes, “Ashlyn, answer me!” said Steven, trying to contact her within his mind.

From somewhere under the drone of the crashing falls came a very faint, “Over here.”

“Ash, where are you?” Steven shone his light to the left away from the falls. On the far side of the river, half‑in and half‑out of the water was Ashlyn. She was fighting hard against the current to cling to a small rock that was only inches above the surface. To her left, not four meters away was the dark hole through which the river exited. “I’m coming, hold on!”

“We’ll get her with a tethered raft, Admiral. A swimmer can’t fight against that current. Maria, see to the Admiral’s wounds,” said Tomlinson.

“Ashlyn, hold on. The raft is-” A chill raced through Steven, leaving him lightheaded.

“Stand still, sir. You have a bad gash on your head. I’ve got to stop the bleeding,” said Maria.

The cavern grew dark.

Chapter 14

“Steven, come‑on. You have to sip this. It’s warm,” encouraged Ashlyn.

“What happ-” Steven stopped mid-sentence, his head throbbing with pain.

Ashlyn saw him wince. “Take it slow, you aren’t well yet. Do you remember the waterfall?”

He fought to remember. “Yes—we went over. The rocks? How many people?”

“Not now, you need to rest.”

“Ashlyn, please. How many?” Steven then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Four more days passed before Steven awakened to the sound of a crackling fire and the warmth of a thermal heat blanket.

Hearing the whispering voices of his team that were standing in a circle about twenty meters away, he saw their heads bowed while someone recited a prayer. Between their legs, illuminated by their flashlights, he could see the outlines of stacked rocks, forming several graves. When the group finished, they quietly turned round and headed back to camp.

“Steven!” shouted Ashlyn, running to him, “You’re awake!” Ashlyn gave him a hug that nearly strangled him.

“Water?” said Steven, his throat parched.

“Of course,” said Ash as she put the canteen to his lips. “Slowly, not too much or you won’t keep it down.”

“It’s good to have you back, Admiral,” said Tomlinson. In unison, the rest of the crew voiced their agreement.

Ash lowered the canteen.

“Sir, there’s more paintings on the wall here that you’ll want to see.”

“It’ll wait, Tomlinson,” said Ashlyn. “Give him time to get oriented.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Who?” said Steven staring at the grave.

“Reeves. He died yesterday, but we hadn’t said any words for him yet. He’d joked about the Titanic. I guess he was right.”

“How many died?”

Ashlyn studied his eyes before answering. “We lost seven to the falls—three others are missing, carried downstream.

Brummon has a concussion; he hasn’t awakened yet.”

Ash removed the bandage from Steven’s head and checked the wound for signs of infection.

“The rafts? Did we save the rafts?”

“We saved two of them. The others were shred beyond repair.

Is that too tight?” asked Ashlyn as she reapplied the bandage.

“It’s fine. What’s making the fire?”

“Tomlinson found that the moss on the cavern walls burns just like wood. He’s been really resourceful, and we were pretty desperate. Everyone was fighting hypothermia until he got the fire going. Without it, none of us would have made it.”

“How long have we been here?”

“Over a week, but don’t worry about that right now. You need to eat, a little anyway. You need to rebuild your strength. I’ve got some cooked fish ready for you.”

“Fish? How?”

“The emergency kits on the rafts had a small tackle kit inside.”

Ash moved to the fire, returning a moment later with a filleted fish. “Trout!—Phillip!” Steven’s mind raced to the consequences of anyone else following them down the river. “Ash, we have to stop the crew from thinking that it’s safe to follow us!” A stabbing pain shot between his temples, doubling him over.

“Take it easy,” Ashlyn said, reassuring him, “I saw to it already. We turned the transponder off. I overheard you explaining the pings to Novacek. It was a good precaution.

Come on now, I want you to eat a little of this,” said Ashlyn, again handing the plate to him.

After having eaten only four or five small bites, Steven laid the plate down and took her hand. “Thanks, Ash. Thanks for taking care of me.”

Kissing the tip of her finger, Ash then touched it to his lips.

Three days later Brummon awakened. Steven gave him two additional days to get oriented and make sure he was fit for travel, before again getting the team underway.

With only two rafts, they were uncomfortably crowded, carrying six people in one and four plus the equipment in the other.

As for the picture that Tomlinson had found by the falls, ever since Steven had seen it, excitement coursed through his veins. For the most part, the picture had simply been a copy of the map they’d found earlier. There was only one difference. It was subtle, yet astounding. Instead of Steven’s intended destination being represented by a tree in flames, it was now represented by the symbol of a double tetrahedron.

Steven believed he understood the meaning, and that rather than the symbols being contradictory, they were complimentary, building upon the message being conveyed. Moreover—if he was interpreting the meaning correctly, it was incredulous.

***

For the next nine days, they drifted uneventfully. It was a pleasant surprise when they turned a bend in the river and saw the exit. They drifted out into the early, evening glow of a nighttime sky. After weeks of darkness, the light from the three moons hovering on the horizon was breathtaking.

Brummon hopped out of the raft first and waded to shore where he proceeded to kiss the ground. His emotional response spoke for all of them, and they cheered him on.

Steven ordered Richardson and Tomlinson to scout the area, verifying they were alone and safe.

As for the rest of the team, a few did stretching exercises, while the others seemed more intent upon setting up camp.

“So, what’s up next?” asked Ashlyn as she saw him studying the stars.

“We’re on foot the rest of the way. We’ll be heading southeast, to a pass that goes between the two largest mountains. They should be visible at first light.”

“How much time do we have?”

“It’s only a couple of hours after sunset, so we’ll make camp here and get a sunrise start.”

“Do I have permission to take a bath, sir?” Ash asked.

“A bath?—I guess so, as long as you take Paris and Maria with you,” said Steven.

“That works for me! I’m sure they’ll want one too. When the recon team returns, we’ll go downstream a hundred meters. I can trust that you won’t hide behind a bush and watch, right?”

“I don’t know, watching three women bathing together …” quipped Steven, “that’s awfully tempting.”

Ashlyn, standing next to Steven, kiddingly bumped him with her shoulder, “That’s what I thought.”

***

Two hours later and unable to sleep, Steven left camp for a quiet walk along the river. His troubled thoughts fell to times past. Three hundred meters south of camp, he stopped to sit upon a large, round boulder along the water’s edge. Overhead, the large triad of moons cast their reflections over the sparkling ripples, coloring the river a dark wine. It was a beautiful, but sorrowful reminder of just how far away from home he was.

Though he had been pondering for weeks how Renee had experienced her vision, and thereby his fate, he’d come no closer to finding an explanation. Now, as he contemplated never seeing his wife and daughter again, the sorrow in his heart, escaped. As tears welled, he pictured Sandee’s sweet, dimpled smile and the sparkle in Renee’s eyes. His heart broke. He had no choice but to assume that his family was forever lost to him.

Staring at the night sky, Steven wondered which of the distant specks of light was Earth’s sun. He reached up, seemingly touching the stars with his fingers. His former life seemed so close and yet that life was now across an impenetrable void. He felt small and alone.

“All I ask is for a tall ship-” said Steven softly to himself.

“And a strong wind at my back,” said Ashlyn, her gentle voice shattering his reflective agony.

Like an angelic figure, Ashlyn took a step forward out of the shadows. The light glimmering off her bare shoulders sensually alluded to the beauty that lay hidden beneath the loosely wrapped silver, thermal blanket. When the blanket fell open, the moonlight highlighted Ashlyn’s curves in a parade of silver crescents. The shadows themselves seemed to exist only to accentuate her femininity.

Dragging the blanket along the ground behind her, as a willing slave to Steven’s desire, Ashlyn’s long, slender legs carried her gracefully across the warm sand and into his waiting arms. Her seducing eyes closed, their lips slowly, tenderly touched. The ever-present tingle exploded throughout them with the volatility of a forest fire, begging they surrender to the erotic sensuality embodied within the flames. As Steven’s lips kissed the taut tendons in the hollow of Ashlyn’s neck, her nimble fingers removed his clothing.

The journey down the river had kept them apart for weeks. Now, alone, their gnawing passions were unleashed. Within each of them their auras stretched outwards and like lovers performing a ritualistic, mating dance, the two became one. The dance was one of unbridled passion, one of lust.

“It’s time for you to experience more of what I can do,” said Ash.

His passions were already searing him, and it was unfathomable to think that she had more to offer him.

Coaxing him to lie down on the thermal blanket that she’d spread beneath them, she stood over him, her feet straddling his waist. Steven’s visage was that of long trim legs, plumped folds, a flat belly and jutting breasts. It was a sight of bountiful temptations.

More goosebumps, thought Steven ogling the fleshy lips between her thighs. I loovvve her goosebumps.

As his hands ran slowly up her legs, along the inside of her soft thighs—his hand cupped her, his thumb sliding between her lips, spreading them apart. She gasped shrilly as he touched her clit. It swelled, hardening in response.

Ashlyn trembled to his stroking touch.

Kneading her own breasts, Ashlyn let the eroticism in her sensual movements seduce Steven’s passions. The raw abandon of her lust aroused him, mesmerized him. His mouth watered as she stretched and squeezed her nipples.

He could feel that Ashlyn had lowered a veil, a veil that had kept him sane—but now, she was sending wave after wave of lusting energy racing into his caressing fingers, driving him into the depths of a desperate, insatiable passion that he’d never felt before. He wanted to scream.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, his body trembling with need—aching to touch her, his tongue wanting to taste her, he urged her to kneel upon the sand.

A slave to her own desires as much as she was to his, she knelt, straddling his face. Her shaven lips encircled his mouth like a hand quieting a scream.

With his tongue spreading wide her folds, he licked her clit. She screamed. She wriggled, her writhing body pressing herself harder into him. With wanton abandon, she panted, gasping for air as his tongue darted into her, wiggling and licking.

Her sweet taste and softness was rapturous.

After an eternity of time, knowing fully the depths of his anxious longing, she knew it was time to let him see what she could do.

Upon her hands and knees, she hung over him like a canopy bed, letting her breasts cover his ears. Her sensual, naturally perfumed cleavage intoxicated him.

Playfully rocking, Ash swept his face, letting him bask in the tenderness of her breasts. Teasing him, she brushed her nipples against his cheeks, his lips, around his eyes. He tried playfully to capture them with his lips—she evaded him with skillful guise. Bobbing and swaying, she taunted him.

His body was screaming, his mind an inferno of lusting abandon. He had never felt such need, such desire and such passion. He felt like he would go insane if he could not release himself instantly, and yet, she kept pushing him onward, further along the path of insatiable desire.

His hands unable to resist the swaying temptations, attacked her breasts like a voraciously, starved glutton—stretching them, kneading them. As he sucked her nipples—suddenly, the fugue created a deep craving, a tickling sensation within him. He began sucking harder, his squeezing hands forcing her breast to fill his mouth.

Suddenly, in reaction to his frantic sucking, Ash too felt a new sensation, an inner contentment awakened as new neural networks opened within her mind.

Steven’s heart was ablaze, a natural response to seeing Ashlyn’s ragged, jumping response to the wag of his tongue. Her bouncing breasts telling him how pleasant it was for her.

Ash was shaking like an autumn leaf readying to fall; she was desperate to feel him throbbing inside her, while he suckled.

Reaching beneath her, she grabbed Steven’s shaft, and positioned him at the entrance to her pussy. He almost bit her nipple as she suddenly impaled herself deeply upon him, squishing his balls hard. A shrill scream escaped her. Her breath hung, her nails dug deep, leaving the scars of her passion upon his chest. Her back arched, pushing his cock deeper into her, and forcing her breasts deep into his mouth.

Sitting atop him, Ashlyn moved with steady precision. With each slide, she’d rise high upon her knees, her back arching so that his cock would push against her clit. Then without hesitation, she would descend, throwing her full weight downwards, squishing his balls flat. Her motions were quick, sharp and precise.

And yet, never once did Steven’s hands release their grasp upon her breasts—though tidal-waves of jiggling ripples escaped his control.

Her movements soon grew shorter, quicker, her back arching sharper as the climb of passions rose. With each rocking rise, her hands, her nails, seducing erotically, clawed his muscled chest.

And yet, as amazing as the experience was, it was inside Ashlyn where the real miracle was taking place. Each rising and descending slide upon his cock began with an iron-hard squeeze, followed by a fluttering, rippling contraction as she slid along his length, and then finished with another, iron-hard squeeze. It was like nothing Steven had experienced before, and he wanted it to last forever. It was searing, intense, painfully erotic and screamingly lustful.

While his mind was entrapped to the rippling, squeezing movements of her pussy—his eyes were locked upon the frantically rippling breasts that were whipping his face. The beat was hypnotic, the taste unforgettable.

Together, they moved as lovers who had shared their innermost thoughts and then spent a lifetime training to fulfill them. It took them to levels above that of pleasure and pain, carrying them beyond all previous human experience and hovering on the brink of an insatiable, erotic dementia. In a matter of hours, they were granted the outpouring of a thousand lifetimes worth of fevered passion. It was a night of which even the gods would be jealous.

As Steven lay gasping beneath her, his face buried deep in the cleavage of her glistening breasts, he opened his eyes to see a last lingering drop of sweat fall from her—into his parted lips, bringing him a last taste of her. It was yet another moment he branded deep into memory.

They held one another with a sense of awe and wonder at the incredulous experience, saying nothing for fear they might wake and realize that the mystical magic had been but a dream.

An hour later, rising, Ash took Steven’s hand and led him to the river. Wading out, they swam and playfully splashed, letting the cool waters renew their energy. Neither of them had ever felt so happy, so content and so complete.

Wrapping his arms around her, they stood gazing at the three magnificent moons that were lowering on the horizon. Looking down over Ashlyn’s shoulder, he noticed that her necklace was missing.

“Ash, where’s your necklace?”

“I lost it when we went over the falls. I looked for it, but-”

“I’m sorry.” Steven squeezed her comfortingly. “I know how important it was to you.”

“It’s all right. Sometimes, things happen for a reason.”

“Ash, while-”

“The craving? I felt it too. I also felt another change in us back in the forest, when I was—”

“I guess we should have expected more changes to occur,” said Steven. “Victor had wanted to tell me about us, biologically. I’d stopped him.

I think Tynabo did all this to us. We each have something the other needs and craves. It’s complementary.”

After a few minutes of silence, Ashlyn spoke, “What do you think we’ll find when we reach the symbol on the map that we’re going to?”

Steven answered reflectively, “Our past, and maybe, our future.”

***

“Commander, we have a massive force of ground units on a direct approach from the south, 6 klicks out,” advised Stratton.

“Spread out the full perimeter defense. Heaviest concentration to the south.”

Phillip scampered up. “Gordon?”

“I want you to go inside, Phillip.”

“Can I see what they look like?”

“No, it’s too dangerous. Please Phillip, just go inside, now! I promised your father that I’d keep you safe.”

“Okay,” he said walking off.

Novacek felt sorry for the boy. Ever since the signal from his father’s beacon had stopped transmitting ten days ago, Phillip had sat watching the tunnel. Phillip knew that his father couldn’t return from down river, but it clearly emphasized what precious little else he had to hold onto.

“Gordon?” said Phillip just before reentering the tunnel to the cavern.

“Yes, Phillip?” Novacek said turning round to face him once more.

“How come you’re not stuttering anymore?”

No one was more surprised than Novacek. He hadn’t noticed. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember stuttering since his encounter with the spiders. “You’re right! I guess you might say—I’ve been freed.” Novacek couldn’t share the truth with him. To tell him that he had begun stuttering only after he’d been bound and forced to watch his wife being raped and tortured—how even after they’d snapped her neck, they still took turns atop her. The beating they’d given him afterwards had seemed a blessing, for he had wanted nothing more than to die with her. His heart had been crushed from his powerlessness to help her. It was from that moment on his speech had been broken.

“Sir, the ground units are closing,” Stratton updated.

“Sorry Phillip, you’ve got to go below. Now!”

Returning to his binoculars, Novacek studied the convoy’s firepower. The armada had thirty or more ground transports and at least a dozen heavy assault vehicles. Drawing up the rear were three vehicles with large weapons mounted on top.

“Give the order that under no circumstance are we to fire the first shot. If they fire however, have our rifles return fire, concentrating on the heavy assault vehicles first. Warn everyone that if the heavy assault vehicles come to a stop, they have to get into their holes. The incoming firepower will be devastating. When the enemy eventually ceases fire, tell the teams to retaliate immediately.”

Novacek noticed Phillip sneakily watching from behind a boulder to his left. “Phillip Steven Sherrah, I told you to go below! That’s an order!”

“Okay!” Jumping down, he walked sour-faced into the cave.

To the comm operator by his side, “Warn the teams to be ready for a southern, frontal assault with possible hand-to-hand combat. Also, send a message inside to clear the center of the cavern. Have everyone stay along the walls.”

The comm operator swallowed as he came to grips with what lay ahead.

“It’s alright Ensign, I’m scared too.”

A boulder thirty meters below Novacek exploded. The sniper above returned fire upon the fighter flying overhead. With the hit, the fighter went into a dive, heading toward the ground in flames.

By the time Novacek grabbed the field glasses, four of the assault vehicles below were in flames. The remaining vehicles were scattering, seeking cover. For the snipers, the slow speed of the vehicles made it no harder than knocking bottles off a fence. The transport vehicles came to a stop; the alien troops unloaded, taking up defensive positions.

Novacek studied the scene, “They’re testing us, sacrificing their own forces to test our defenses.”

Nine assault vehicles were eliminated before the laser-turrets on the heavy vehicles came to bear on the mountain. A wide, laser beam erupted from each of the three, long-range vehicles. It struck the top of the mountain with an electrifying energy, shattering massive boulders. Debris rained down from above, forcing the lower positioned personnel to take cover. Heavy boulders loosened and came bounding down around them. When Novacek finally dared check on the enemy troop movement, he found that they were rapidly closing the distance under the cover fire of their guns.

When the barrage finally stopped, Novacek knew it meant the enemy forces had entered the forest. Most of Novacek’s personnel weren’t trained for hand-to-hand combat, but even so, they came out of hiding and held their own against the first advancing line.

Successive waves slowly began forcing the crew to retreat, forming a defensive line among the boulders, but it too soon began to thin as the enemy kept advancing. A sizzle from high above rang out. At least one rifle was still operational. Novacek waited only a moment to see if the other was going to join in. It didn’t.

Rising, Novacek began to run, darting around rocks, stopping shortly and then running again. The enemy fire was trailing him as he made a leaping dive across an exposed gap. The pulse of a handgun ripped across his right leg’s quad muscle. In pain, he leaned his back against a shielding boulder. Removing his belt, he tied off the bleeding leg.

The sound of crunching gravel told him that the enemy was right behind him. Picking up his sidearm, he rolled over into the open gap through which he had leapt, firing blind.

Standing directly before him was the leathered looking alien. A lucky shot caught the alien in the knee. It exploded, spurting his blood onto the ground. As he teetered in surprise, Novacek rolled again, onto his back.

The alien’s weapon discharged, hitting the just vacated ground. Upon his back, Novacek’s gun blazed, firing shot after shot. Hitting the genitalia, at least where it would have been on a human, he cut a clean hole through the alien torso. The alien tottered and then fell in a clump of sinewy meat, flesh and bone atop Novacek.

The corpse exposed and severed entrails spilled out like unwinding coils, covering his chest. Wriggling out from beneath the pulp, the squalled stench of rancid seawater fogged Novacek’s senses, nauseating him. He searched for a spot of clean sleeve with which to wipe the alien tissue from his face. There was none. With his hands covered in blue-gray blood and bits of slimy gray-white tissue, he did his best to clear his vision.

Hidden behind the boulder, the choking stench of the alien settling deep into his sinus cavities, he heaved his guts out upon the corpse. Amid the act of vomiting, he felt a giddy elation over his good aim.

His stomach emptied, he looked up to see the lone sharpshooter still hard at work.

Struggling to his feet, his injured leg reluctantly supporting him, he hobbled his way up the backside of the mountain.

Stepping round a boulder, he stumbled upon the body of a young woman. The blast had removed her face, killing her instantly. A fleeting thought told him to check her tags and see who it was—but time didn’t permit that luxury. As he rose, continuing on, he felt strengthened by the valiant fight the crew was putting forth.

At the top, the startled sniper almost fired at Novacek as he came hobbling around the boulder behind him. The sniper’s uniform was shred from the fragments of exploding boulders. His nose and mouth were trickling blood as was his forehead. His hands displayed multiple, deep lacerations. Novacek was surprised that the young man was able to still hold the heavy weapon, let alone keep it steady.

“Commander! Morgan’s alive but his foxhole is covered by a boulder. I couldn’t move it.”

Novacek saw that the large boulder would be too heavy for even the two of them to lift. Suddenly, out through a slit slid the rifle.

Taking it, Novacek fought through the pain, staggering over to a good vantage point from which he could shoot. The scope homed-in like a powerful telescope on the last assault vehicle, the cross hairs highlighting the small Cobra symbol on its side. In tandem, the rifles opened up, destroying it. The loss of the enemy’s heavy artillery bought them some time.

The firefight had started a dozen fires burning in the forest below. A light haze of smoke was clouding the air.

Shifting to better positions, Novacek and the sniper concentrated on the aliens below. Their eagle-eyed view of the many small firefights below became the needed advantage. The tide turned quickly as in the game of positioning, the balance of power shifted. In fifteen minutes, they were mopping up the last of the enemy forces that had not retreated.

Novacek knew that the battle was far from being over, for another large wave stood at the ready, waiting to attack. It was also painfully clear that Novacek’s crew didn’t have the physical numbers, strength, or energy to repel them again.

With more willpower than brute strength, several men worked to free the trapped sniper from beneath the boulder. As the boulder rolled aside, they all caught a whiff of the odor that permeated the hole. For the liberated crewmember, it was a moment of embarrassment, though no one so much as hinted at having noticed.

***

With the sun about to rise, Steven and Ashlyn quickly made their way back to camp in a race to beat the others before they woke, stopping only briefly to retrieve Ashlyn’s clothes where she had left them. They almost made it.

Private Smith was just waking, “Is it too impolite for me to ask where-” His eyes suddenly rose. Steven and Ashlyn turned following his gaze. Behind them, a fighter was streaking away to the northwest.

“It’s heading toward Novacek’s base camp,” said Steven, his thoughts fearing for Phillip. He was now more anxious than ever to get to their destination. His son’s life might depend on it. “Rise and shine grunts. Grab your gear; we’ll be eating on the move.” Ten minutes later, pack loads evenly distributed, Steven directed everyone’s attention to the two mountains on the horizon that marked their destination. The peaks were twenty, maybe even twenty-five kilometers away to the southeast and were the tallest in a long mountain chain that stretched as far as they could see. After topping off the canteens, “Let’s go. It’s time to put some calluses on those feet!”

Leaving the security of fresh water behind, they headed inland.

With each step, a thin layer of hard sand crunched underfoot, easing the stress on their legs and enabling them to keep a quick pace. Logic told Steven that eons ago the entire region had been an inland lake or sea. He could smell the salt in the air, taste it upon his lips.

It didn’t take long to realize that they should have waited until the next nightfall to begin the trek. The heat soon became extreme and they were forced to take shelter, if for no other reason than to conserve water. Lying low, behind the cornice of a large dune, they hid in its sliver of a shadow.

The day passed slowly, their bodies perspiring water at a frighteningly fast pace.

As the suns set, Steven made note of the first appearing stars in relation to the distant mountains. The tri-moons provided more than enough light for traveling and the cool air was refreshing.

None of them had forgotten about the creatures that lived beneath the sand either. It was a constant concern.

Seven hours later, just as the twin suns were rising, they reached the mountain’s base. A sparse tree line stretched half way up the mountain’s 7,400-meter peak.

Stopping beneath the covering shade of trees, they gave their backs a break from the heavy packs.

“You know, if it wasn’t for the fact that the leaves are purple and the bark dark red, I’d think I was back in Oregon, before the attack. It’s almost nostalgic,” said Maria.

“Look at the size of this flower,” said Richardson, smelling it. His body stiffened and he fell to the ground convulsing. Smith reached him first and putting his head back, checked his airways. “His throat’s constricted.”

At his side, Steven flung open the med kit. Richardson’s skin was already mottled, purple. His eyes rolled back. Searching through the kit, Steven found it contained nothing for a toxic reaction. It only offered a simple inhaler for asthmatics. Sliding the mask over his nose and mouth, they squeezed the mixture into him, hoping it might open his airway. Unfortunately, the medic assigned to the team had been one of those killed at the falls.

“His heart’s stopped!” said Ashlyn as she started CPR. Removing the inhaler, Smith tried to force air into him. It was several minutes before they reluctantly stopped.

Richardson was given a traditional burial. A small, flat rock served as a marker, his dog tags lay atop it. Smith had been his best friend, and told the group that Richardson was of the Catholic faith. After a formal salute and a moment of reflective silence, the team quietly donned their packs and departed.

They took comfort walking in the cooler air and the shade of the trees that the mountains afforded them.

It was three days later, wiggling through the chain of interconnected valleys, the burial site far behind them, that they found a small spring. Most of their canteens were empty, their rations low. Finding the spring was a great relief and gave them some time to make a small fire. Seated around it, the team finally began asking questions. “What’s so special about this symbol we’re going to?” asked Maria.

“It’s just a theory. It may not be special at all. It’s still too early to know for sure.”

That night, lying on his blanket like he’d so often done as a kid, Steven watched the stars. He missed the familiar constellations, and it left him feeling very out of touch with his former life. It now seemed so very, long ago.

“Steven, what are you thinking about?”

“I don’t know—home—Earth.”

After a brief moment of silence. “Steven—I know you’ll never stop loving her. If we ever find a way home, it would only be right for all of you to be a family again. Somehow, we’ll find a solution.”

Steven turned his head, looking at her—feeling blessed to have her.

Chapter 15

“Sir, there’s more transports arriving, and they’ve brought an air escort.”

Novacek knew it was coming, “Yeah, they know what they are up against now. Withdraw all of our teams inside. Have each team leave a pair of flares at their current position. I want them to think we aren’t backing down.”

“Sir?” said the midshipmen before departing, “Why the ground assault? Why not just wipe us out with a ship or missile?”

Novacek had asked the question a hundred times himself as well. “I don’t have a logical answer. They’ve been throwing their forces at us like cannon fodder. It’s a waste of resources and life.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” said the young midshipmen.

“Your right. It doesn’t,” answered Novacek. “Maybe it’s just dumb arrogance.” On the other hand, maybe he wants something.

Within minutes, the enemy ground forces had taken an aggressive posturing that alluded to an all-out charge on both the southern and western fronts. Overhead, fighters were making high altitude flybys, running scans to determine their numbers. Novacek assumed the Nephilim were aware of the spiders’ existence, it was the only explanation for why they weren’t using the cover of darkness to get into position.

Within minutes, the attack began. The mountain tottered as the long-range guns pummeled it. The interior of the cavern’s structure weakened minute by minute. Huddled along the cavern walls, the crew fought for every breath as all around them, rocks and boulders of all sizes fell from the ceiling, crashing into the river and onto the cavern floor. It would have been easier to try and breathe through a handful of mud.

Though he was barely inside the tunnel entrance, Novacek could hear the echoing screams of those who were being injured or killed in the cavern below. Nevertheless, he had to wait.

Once the enemy attack stopped, he was ready to move. “Quick, bring the cannon out!” shouted Novacek to his team.

Outside, the mountain looked like a barren, burned asteroid. What vegetation there was, had been blasted or burned away. The devastated forest below was no better off. The smoldering flames and smoke carried the squalid stench of burned spiders.

As the team set up the cannon, through the binoculars, Novacek saw that thousands of troops were closing in on the western front.

“Sir, above us!”

Novacek looked up, and saw two fighters hovering 300 meters above them. Through his binoculars, Novacek believed he saw an infrared scanner array on the belly of each craft. The hair on his neck stiffened as he realized they were using his heat signature to mark the entrance to the cave.

“Cannon ready,” said Stratton.

“Leave me three plasma rockets, then get the team and the box of rockets inside!” Novacek set the rocket’s timers for 8 seconds, 6 seconds, and the last for 4 seconds. He could feel the enemy encroaching in the rocks below them. Kneeling beside the cannon, he tilted its nose directly upwards. A final check on the securement of the legs and he was ready.

Stratton took note, “Sir, it’s going to rain the plasma directly down on you!”

Novacek nodded. “Get inside, now.” Novacek’s hand hovered over the cannon’s launch tube, “Drop!”

He dropped the first of the small, black rockets into the tube. Hitting the bottom, it ejected six-hundred meters into the air with a hollow, resonant whoosh. He then dropped the second, then the third. Upon the last rocket’s release, Novacek grabbed the cannon and ran for the tunnel. The cannon’s hot exterior burned his hands as he tucked it under his arm. He dove the last two meters, landing inside the tunnel. As he hit the ground, the cannon landed beneath him. A stabbing pain told him that he’d broken a rib.

The three projectiles shot into the air exploding simultaneously.

Novacek rose and hefted the cannon over his shoulder, running deeper into the tunnel. The monstrous firestorm consumed the oxygen in the air, following it inside the tunnel entrance. He outran it by only a few meters.

Outside, it was an inferno. Everything within three kilometers of ground-zero was ablaze. The thousands of alien troops that had been nearly atop them were now nothing more than screaming, roman candles.

Far above, the hovering ships were floundering, their hulls engulfed in flames. The intense heat from the surrounding plasma overloaded their shields, allowing it to make direct contact with the fighter’s wings, hull and cockpit canopy. Seconds later, the fighters exploded, their fiery debris adding yet more fuel to the raging fire below.

“Stratt, when the flames subside enough, go outside and launch a volley of plasma grenades in a circular pattern around the entire mountain. Cover a full five-kilometer range. I want them to think twice before trying another attack.”

Forty-five minutes later, on the bluff outside, Stratton’s team searched the desert below. They watched as an air transport lifted-off, five kilometers away. As it moved to the south, Stratton merely pointed a finger and the two snipers cut loose, cutting a long, clean slice across the vehicle’s hull. The ship burst into flames doing a header to the desert floor.

On the ground, he could see that the attack force was regrouping in a large, sheltered ravine four klicks away. Following his orders, he used the cannon to lay down a massive ring of fire, targeting the ravine first.

***

The suns were riding low in the sky behind their backs, when Steven’s team rounded a bend in the trail and they froze in their tracks. Running between two opposing mountain peaks, four-kilometers apart was an immense wall. Like a mirror, the single sheet of flat, clear crystal, reflected the sky and surrounding terrain with near perfect clarity.

“Is it a dam?” asked Brummon.

“I don’t believe so,” said Steven.

“Sir, the map you drew for us didn’t display this landmark—yet you wiggled us perfectly through the mountain range—to find this?” said Tomlinson with curiosity. “How?”

“The answer is simple,” said Steven pulling a scanner out of his pack, holding it before him, “Tetrahedral constants. This wall is at 19.5 degrees, north of the ecliptic.”

“Of course!” said Ashlyn, a bit surprised that she hadn’t thought of it herself. Looking at the bewildered faces of the team, her excitement uncontainable, “There’s hundreds of tetrahedral constants. Some are natural, but the tetrahedral constant has been emulated in dozens of ancient artificial structures. The TC’s carry advanced knowledge within mathematical computations about torsion field physics. Take Giza or the Teotihuacan pyramids in Mexico. The Cydonia Monuments on Mars. They all have a 19.5 degree connection.”

Steven added, “Even the United Nations Headquarters on the Moon was at 19.5 degrees. That’s why they dedicated the Cen-Comm facility to Richard C. Hoagland. He preached about a science that few could understand. He was a scientist with a rare depth of vision. He believed that someone was trying to give us a message through the use of tetrahedral constants.”

Ashlyn, full of enthusiasm, built upon Steven’s explanation. “Yes, and he also talked about how almost every NASA and Chinese mission ever launched had a 19.5 connection. Hoagland called it, hyperdimensional physics.

“Okay, Professors,” said Maria teasingly to the two of them. “A message about what?” The look on her face completely blank.

Steven shrugged, “I think we’re about to find out,” said Steven contemplatively. Steven looked at Tomlinson, “I believe the map you found back in the tunnel is far more important than you realize. Ancient Sumerian cuneiform depicted the Sirius system as a double tetrahedron, same as the one on your map. To the Sumerians, the double tetrahedron represented a doorway, a gateway to their creators. A gateway to the gods. A Stargate.”

Everyone, including Ashlyn, stared at Steven, stunned.

“Great—how am I supposed to go to sleep tonight—knowing that I might be meeting God tomorrow? Hmm, what to wear?” said Paris, teasingly. “Ash, can I borrow that chain necklace bikini of yours?

Maybe he’s single.”

“Maybe he is, but you’re not,” said Tomlinson, possessively, yet teasingly.

Everyone laughed.

***

Next day, the team could hardly watch their steps as they stared at the magnificence of the structure. Steven pushed the team hard, but with darkness fast approaching and the physicality of the climb, the team grew tired. For their sake, he was forced to call them to a stop, just one kilometer short of the wall. The team was exhausted, and it took determination for them to even find the strength to unfurl their bedding.

As they had done back at the river, days before, after the others were asleep, Steven and Ashlyn left camp. They decided to take advantage of the strong allure of the wall as a place to have their rendezvous. Ashlyn had expressed the fact that she was in desperate need to have her craving fulfilled. So flashlights in hand and aided by the light of the moons, they set a quick pace up the valley trail.

The wall stood like a great monument, a soft, candlelight glow emanating from deep within its structure. Though it begged their attentions, their aroused desires were singularly focused.

Ashlyn leaned her back against the wall, and taking his hands in hers, placed them upon the buttons of her white blouse. She watched his eyes intently, relishing in his lust as he unfastened them.

Her eyes closed, her lips parting as he peeled it back of her shoulders, pinning her arms behind her. She stood as though bound by steel chains, submitting to his touch, to his will, to his bidding.

With a sigh, her head tipped back, her body shaking as he slowly traced her rounded cleavage with a single finger, giving rise to goosebumps.

As he leaned forward and their lips met, he popped the snap of her jeans. A downward slide of the zipper, made her knees tremble. As his hands slid round, grasping her butt, he kissed her neck just below the ear. Ashlyn gasped, her bosom heaving, her stomach muscles tensing. Her canted hips betrayed her desire as he began slowly moving lower, his hands adeptly removing her jeans.

Kneeling between Ashlyn’s spread legs, her knees slightly bent—his mouth found her breasts.

Wriggling against the wall, Ash bit her lower lip, futilely trying to hold onto some semblance of composure—as simultaneously, his fingers stroked her clit. Ash was crying out shrilly—with each stroke of his fingers—her breath dragged from her.

Within minutes, Ash was close to orgasm. Rising, Steven picked her up off the ground, and with her breasts atop his shoulders, he allowed the fire within him to rage, penetrating her deep. Each of his long, heavy thrusts lifted her higher off the ground, stealing her breath, stealing her screams. Her body shuddered, her mind hopelessly succumbing to an orgasm. His thrusting, throbbing pulses lit the world ablaze, charring the very ground beneath his feet. As his thrusts became faster, more rigorous, more forceful, her trembling body pleading to feel him exploding inside her—he gave her what she desired. It was an offer he was happy to fulfill.

In the early afterglow, her back pressed firmly against the smooth cool wall, his head buried in the hollow of her neck, their moaning sighs fading like an echo, their bodies dripping sweat to the ground, Steven uttered the words of his heart, “I love you Ashlyn. With all my heart, I love you.”

And she, taking delight in the throbbing pulses of his shaft inside her, “And I love you. With all my heart, I love you.”

In their time together against the wall, they took no note of the rainbow of colors that had come to life inside the wall, swirling round them.

But the magical words had been spoken, and the gate unto the treasure had been opened.

As their bodies were absorbed through the wall and gently placed on the other side, they stood as before, Ashlyn’s back pressed against the wall.

Withdrawing himself from Ashlyn, he lowered her to the luscious, green grass beneath their feet. They stood naked, staring at an area that shone with all the beauty of a well-kept garden.

“Is this part of my orgasm?” teased Ash. “Or did we just die and go to heaven?”

Steven jested back, “It’s part of your orgasm—I’m that good.”

Ashlyn touched the wall behind her, unsure of how they had passed through it. It appeared solid. No seams, doors or portals.

Together, they stood unmoving, awed by the beauty of their surroundings. The sky was blue, the temperature perfect. The colors were vibrant beyond compare.

“Is this what you were expecting to find?” asked Ashlyn.

Shaking his head, “I wasn’t sure of anything. I just had theories.”

Holding hands, they walked slowly forward in silent awe through the lush, foliage-filled valley. The valley had all the characteristics of a paradisiac, manicured landscape—each flower displayed as if it were part of an exotic, floral bouquet. Not a single petal lay on the ground, nor was there one wilted or aged. It was truly, paradise. A light breeze was moving the flowers gracefully, carrying the welcome of a warm, spring morning. The sight and aroma of such pure, unadulterated perfection flooded their hearts with wonder.

A few minutes later, as they rounded a bend in the trail, Ash suddenly came to a stop, her body tensing. “Steven, look!”

Twenty meters ahead of them was a carved, white marble bridge that arched over what appeared to be a narrow but deep canyon. On the near side of the bridge, stood two large statues with human-like bodies and facial features with long hair lay back of their shoulders. Each figure stood about five meters in height, and was perched atop a short pedestal that bore ancient symbols upon its facing.

Between the statues, a double-bladed flaming sword was spinning round in mid-air, blocking passage to the bridge. Its slicing motion through the air created a deep, guttural humming sound, not unlike the beating of a bee’s wings.

Ashlyn’s grasp on Steven’s hand tightened, unusually so. In turning to look at her, Steven’s heart skipped. Her eyes were glazed, unblinking. “Ash?” Grasping her shoulders, he tried, unsuccessfully, to rouse her.

“We, the Guardians, bid you welcome, Lord Steven and Lady Ashlyn!”

Steven nearly stumbled as the deeply, resonant voices boomed from behind him, and Ashlyn’s legs simultaneously went limp. After supporting her collapse to the ground, Steven spun round to look at the statues.

The flaming blades slowed and separated into two swords, each returning to the hand of a pedestaled guardian. Their eyes sprang to life, glowing the color of molten gold. Their feet shifted on the pedestal taking an aggressive posture. From behind their backs, large wings unfolded, their skin changing from white stone to that of liquid fire.

“Your presence honors us,” boomed the majestic, powerful beings as they bent to one knee, bowed their heads and lowered the tip of their swords toward the ground in respect.

In waking, Ashlyn clasped Steven’s bicep. When he jumped in response, Ashlyn couldn’t help but smile.

“What happened to you?”

“A search was done of our minds,” responded Ashlyn. “When I sensed it, I projected outwards, touching it. It was so powerful, I guess I fainted.” Without waiting for Steven to respond, “Steven, these are the Cherubim, the angels appointed to keep watch over the entrance to Eden. The Garden of Eden. They’ve been waiting thousands of years for us.”

On the pedestals, the symbols shifted their shape, taking the form of written text. “Sumerian?” Steven began to read the words aloud, translating them. “Beyond this portal to Horeb lies the path of life and death and the knowledge of knowing good from bad. Be wise my children, so that you may attain the Gifts of Eden and be granted entrance into Heaven,” read Steven aloud. “May the Sword of Truth guide you.”

“You are indeed worthy. Your words grant you entrance to Eden,” said the two Cherubim in dual voice.

“How could you read that?” asked Ashlyn.

“At the Academy, I majored in history. I loved reading the works of Zechariah Sitchin. I’d always felt drawn to it. With all that we’ve seen, and now this, I think Sitchin’s understanding of the Sumerian history was much closer to the truth than mankind realized.”

Ashlyn smiled. “You never fail to surprise me.

Come on, let’s go!” Smiling buoyantly, Ashlyn rose to her feet and took Steven’s hand. Pulling him to her side, they walked between the Cherubim whose glowing eyes were following them.

“Steven, when my mind was searched, I met an entity that’s been waiting here for untold ages—waiting for us, his children.”

“His children?”

“You’ll see. All is about to be explained and the story is wilder than you can possibly imagine. Come on,” said Ashlyn with unbounded enthusiasm.

Every sight in the valley was spectacular, its grandeur unparalleled. They stopped by a stream to watch a flock of tiny birds that had taken flight from a nearby tree in a flutter. Passing overhead, the birds circled once round before returning and coming to rest in a different tree.

“Bushtits.”

“What?” said Ashlyn, smirking curiously—uncertain if it was an insult or if she was missing a sexual connotation. “Are you making a snide remark about my breasts—or is that what you want right now, bush and tits?”

Steven laughed. “You already know the answer, but I was referring to the birds, they’re Bushtits. Really—that’s their name.”

Ashlyn then joined Steven, chuckling.

The familiar sign of life unlocked the floodgates of emotion, “After the attack, I never thought I’d see a bird again,” said Steven. They took a seat atop a small boulder, Ashlyn held fast within Steven’s arms. The birds jumped from branch to branch, their churring song filling the air.

Not ten meters in front of them, a small stream babbled. Steven felt a strong pulling to drink of it—and in mentioning the yearning to Ashlyn; she in-turn stated that she too felt the pull. Kneeling at the edge of the stream, they filled their hands and partook of the water. They found it to be cool and refreshing, but it also made them feel different inside, as if they had been reborn.

“There are many things here for your pleasure,” came an aged voice from a small tree to the left of them in the center of a clearing. The tree’s branches displayed a beautiful bouquet of pure-white flowers and even as they watched, the flowers upon the tree began to glow, radiating a burning aura of light from their delicate petals. “Approach, my children,” the entity said in a deep, slow, fatherly tone.

Hand-in-hand they slowly approached the tree.

“My little ones, you are so young and you have so much to learn.”

“Who are you?” asked Steven.

“I am from the most ancient of times—to times everlasting. I have waited for you, my children—and you have come.”

“Are you God?” asked Steven, humbly.

“Some have called me God. I have had many names to different people, but you may call me The Keeper, for I am The Keeper of Knowledge.

For you to fully understand the answer to your question, I must first tell you of the Anunnaki—those who created you.”

Steven and Ashlyn sat down on the bed of grass, anxious to hear the revelations that were about to unfold.

“Since the dawn of the universe-” the tree faded away as a visual replay of the story began to unfold “the Anunnaki have traveled through the depths of space as easily as you walk here in the garden. As they spread their seed through the galaxy, they knew that someday, their children would seek them out, wanting to find their way home.

So it was, millions of years ago, that when the Anunnaki visited this planetary system, they created me. It has been long, but finally, as they had hoped, you have come here, to Earth. Your presence has brought meaning to my existence. It is through me that you can go home. I am the way and the life.”

“Earth? I don’t understand. We are from Earth!” said Steven.

“All is not as you have been told, young one.

Millions of years ago, a powerful Anunnaki Lord, known as Enlil was given dominion over many worlds by his father, Anu. Enlil was one of the Elite, a pure Anunnaki, born of royal blood.”

A shiver ran up Steven’s spine. Just hearing the name of Enlil shook him intensely. Steven was then shown the image of a tall, human-looking man with white hair and white robes. It was Enlil.

“He chose Nibiru to be the place from which he would rule. It was a radiant world, heated from within, a place of great beauty that reminded him of home. As Nibiru moved between the planets in your system, Enlil visited your world of Tiamat; taking minerals that Nibiru needed to maintain its warmth.”

“Gold,” said Steven aloud. “They seeded their atmosphere with it.”

“Yes, you are correct, Lord Steven. Over many millennia as gold became harder to extract on Tiamat, they decided to uplift one of Tiamat’s primitive hominid species, making a slave class to assist in the work.

That is how your race came into existence, my children. Much of your people’s genetic composition is Anunnaki.

However, Enlil did not realize how quickly you were capable of evolving. You accomplished far more than he anticipated and in many ways, grew to become nearly as powerful as the Anunnaki themselves. That is why Enlil limited your lifespans. It kept you inferior.

In two-hundred thousand years, you accomplished what had taken them, millions. This is when Enlil’s jealously and hatred for your people began. As the gold disappeared and he found that he no longer needed you, he deliberated on how to destroy you.

Knowing that he could not directly take your lives, which would be in violation of Anunnaki law, he instead waited, plotting to let a close passing of Nibiru destroy the life on Tiamat. He had the means to protect you, but chose not to do so.

In opposition to this decision was another Anunnaki, second son to Anu, younger brother to Enlil—Lord Enki. He and their sister, Ninmah, Chief Medical Officer, were very fond of you. It was they who uplifted you—using the genes from their own pure bloodline.

Enki disobeyed Enlil and returned to Heaven, the Anunnaki home world—where before the Council of Twelve, he plead for the lives of your people. In agreement, the Council decreed it an immoral act to let an intelligent species die—especially a species which had been made in their own image, from their own royal bloodline and genetic materials.

The Council went so far as to embrace you as part of their own family. They empowered Enki to speak on behalf of the Council. When Enki returned with the Anunnaki fleet, he ordered Enlil to vacate Nibiru so that it could be destroyed.

Instead, Enlil rebelled against the Council’s decision and brought the full power of his armada to bear against Enki. Thus, a great battle took place between those who ruled from Heaven and those who ruled from Nibiru—between those who sought to save you and those who sought to destroy you.

Enlil’s forces almost prevailed and it was at Tiamat, that Enki made his last stand, holding out until reinforcements from the Anunnaki home world arrived. As Nibiru approached, though it wreaked havoc upon your world, it was destroyed by the Anunnaki fleet. With Nibiru gone, Enki forced Enlil’s forces back, ousting him from your planetary system.

In retreat, Enlil came here, to Earth. This is where Earth’s last war was fought and Enlil was defeated. The battle scorched this world, destroying it.

From that moment on, the Council decreed that Enlil and his followers forever be called the Nephilim, the fallen ones. So as not to violate their own laws, they ordered that Enlil and his forces be banished—abandoning them to live forever on this dying world.

By order of the Council, this planet had its name changed from Earth to Hadaesia, what your people now call, Hades. The name makes it unlawful for the Anunnaki from Heaven to set foot here. It is meant to be a reminder of the consequence for rebellion.”

Watching history unfold was as close to a spiritual experience as Steven and Ashlyn had ever known. It was humbling. Humanity had never known how much the Anunnaki sacrificed.

“Before Enki’s fleet departed, he ordered the gathering of what little beauty remained on this world and had it delivered to your planet, Tiamat.”

“The Ark?” questioned Steven.

“Yes, Lord Steven. Enki’s ship, the Arkane, gathered what little life remained here, saving it from extinction. In homage to Enki and the beauty of the creatures the Arkane brought—your people changed the name of Tiamat to what it is now known as, Earth.

Over time, the truth became a myth. The story of those who had come from Heaven, the Anunnaki home world, to save humankind—were forgotten. The names and deeds of the Anunnaki great ones were claimed by men of your world—men who sought greatness for themselves.

This Lord Steven was the reason for your confusion.”

“You were right Keeper. We have much to learn. What happened to Enki?”

“Enki worked with your people, teaching, imparting knowledge and building great structures. He had hoped that his display of love, kindness, and wondrous works, would someday lead you to seek out the creators and receive the rewards they held out for you.

Eventually, Enki departed, returning to Heaven to rule at his father’s side. He wanted your people to have free will and grow naturally without further interference.

It is hoped that someday you will rejoin them on Heaven.”

Steven was speechless. The Keeper’s visual of Enki, a gentle looking man in a white robe, walking through the crowds of gathered people who were reaching out to touch him, was shocking.

“We’d always been told that we’d killed him,” said Ashlyn to Steven silently.

“I know. It’s like The Keeper said, once Enki left Earth, men spun and twisted his return to Heaven into a hundred versions. It’s easier to instill obedience from the weak, if you tell them their god is dead. Our manipulation of the truth—it sickens me Ash. It does. Mankind’s greed for wealth, power and control, it was so egotistical, so self-absorbed.”

“I’m not sure that mankind is worth all the lives the Anunnaki lost,” said Ashlyn.

“We aren’t, but without laws and principles, civilization falls into chaos,” said Steven. “Ultimately, the Anunnaki had no choice. Enlil violated everything they stood for.”

The visual presentation disappeared and the tree returned.

“Enki’s love for your people is great and he made a promise to your ancestors that he would not forsake them.”

“Keeper, how is it that the fallen ones—bound forever to this world, acquired another fleet of ships with which to attack my world?”

“Lord Enlil has not been idle. It has been thousands of years since the last battle was fought and in that time, he has worked hard to rebuild his kingdom and his fleet of ships. Entire cities—cities built long ago by the Anunnaki have been stripped of their materials and technology for the construction of his fleet.

Enlil will not take the loss of his ships lightly. He will seek vengeance against you. The three ships you destroyed upon your arrival into this system were the last of his great fleet and he is once again without a vessel that is capable of escaping this system.”

“Keeper, you speak of Enlil as if he is millions of years old—and I too have heard rumors on my world from knowledgeable men, who make claim that Enlil is immortal. If this is true, how is it possible,” asked Steven.

“Yes, Lord Enlil still lives and his hatred for your people has never been greater.”

“But how? It’s been millions of years.”

“How is it not? He is Anunnaki. He has the Gift!”

“Get ready!” said Ash to Steven, “Here it comes.”

“As do the two of you!”

“Us?” said Steven. Not comprehending the full import of his meaning.

“Yes! You have received the Gift!”

“I don’t understand?” replied Steven.

“The water,” said Ashlyn.

“Yes. The Water of Life calls to those who are Anunnaki. It is Enki’s gift to you. Your bodies will no longer grow old and frail. You are immortal, like your creators.

Enlil kept the Water of Life from you, limiting your lifespan. Enki has returned it.”

“We will live forever?”

“Yes, my children. It has always been your destiny.”

“Hello Pinocchio,” said Ashlyn teasingly into Steven’s mind. “You’re a real boy now!”

Steven stuck his tongue out at Ashlyn, making her laugh.

“Promise?” she sent back.

Steven suddenly felt very small. There was so much that humanity didn’t know. The revelations were astounding. They had been given the answers to humanity’s origins, answers humankind had been seeking since the dawn of civilization.

However, it also made him realize just how primitive humanity still was. “Keeper, you have served your creators, the Anunnaki, well. You have brought honor to them and I am proud to know you.

I am grateful for what Enki has done and to all the Anunnaki who sacrificed their lives in order to save my people. Perhaps someday, we will find a way to thank them and you.”

Ashlyn added, “And I too wish to say thank you for the Gifts, and for enlightening us. You are wise and I look forward to learning from you.”

“And you now have eternity in which to do so, my children.”

Steven looked over at Ashlyn, trepidation on his face. “Keeper, the various cultures on my world speak of an evil entity. Has Enlil also been known as, Satan?” Steven’s heart sped in anticipation of the answer.

“Yes, he is the one known as Satan and by a myriad of other names with similar meanings, but the name given him at the time of his birth by his father Anu, was Enlil.”

Steven swallowed. Contemplatively, “Keeper, the writing on the Guardians’ pedestals also spoke of our coming to have knowledge of knowing good from bad. To what does that refer?”

“My little ones, since my creation I have waited for this to be asked of me. It speaks well of your readiness to take the test Enki has prepared for you.”

“Test?” asked Ashlyn.

“I can only give you a warning. You must exercise caution before accepting the test—should you not be found worthy; the Gift that you have already received will be removed from you. You will be escorted out of the garden, never to return.”

“If we choose to accept—can you help us in this test?” asked Ashlyn.

“I am sorry my children, but before I can answer, I must have your decision.”

Steven and Ashlyn looked at each other, nodding in unison.

“We are! We wish to take the test!” said Steven.

“Does Lord Steven speak for you as well, Lady Ashlyn?”

“He does.”

“The test has been accepted! My children, only this may I give to you.

Walk the garden, and when the words hidden in your hearts have been revealed, may the light of truth guide you!

I wish you well, my children.” The tree dimmed.

“Ashlyn?” “Steven?” They said simultaneously.

“It looks like we need to talk,” said Steven, uneasy concern framing his face.

Ashlyn nodded, giving a sigh.

Rising from the ground, “Come on, let’s go for a walk,” said Steven.

Walking in silence, each of them turned inwardly as they came to grips with the words they both knew they must speak.

They came to a stop, atop a soft, flowery knoll beneath a large, lush tree with pink and yellow tipped leaves at the far end of the valley. The beauty of the tree opened the door of conversation. With a deeply exhaled breath, “Ash, I have something to tell you.”

Chapter 16

After the last attack, Novacek decided to send the crew down the river. The sheer size of the enemy forces that were gathering just outside of targeting range, made it apparent that staying meant certain death.

With the crew prepping for the journey, an excited sentry came into the cavern reporting that a lone human had been spotted walking toward the mountain from out of the alien encampment.

Novacek gave the order to hide all the bundled rafts in the cavern, taking them across the river into the alcove where they had found the map. He thought it wise to take precautions should the stranger come back with him.

He then began a descent down the mountain to meet him.

Nearing one-another, they each took measure of the other. Novacek saw the set of the stranger’s eyes deepen as he noted Novacek’s limp and that the flap on his holstered sidearm was unsnapped.

As for the stranger himself, he was of striking appearance. Tall in stature with long, flowing, white hair and striking silver-blue eyes, that blended perfectly with his ankle-length, white robe and sandals. He appeared to be in his early twenties, his hands soft and groomed—his skin light, un-weathered. He looked angelic.

Novacek suddenly felt wary and simultaneously vulnerable. Something just didn’t feel right, but he did take comfort, knowing that at five paces, he could blast a hole through the stranger’s heart before he could think to blink.

Novacek’s eyes narrowed as they came to a stop. The stranger stooped and picked up a handful of dirt. As he let it sift back to the ground, “You could almost believe this was home.”

“You speak English!” stated Novacek, surprised.

“Not much. Not anymore, but, it was my native tongue as a boy.”

“As a boy? On Earth?”

The stranger squinted, then smirked, seemingly amused. “Yes. I was taken. From their point of view though, my life now has meaning, purpose.

In honor of my position within their ranks, I have been sent to ask for your surrender. You have my word that no harm will come to your people.”

Novacek couldn’t help but belt out a loud, spontaneous laugh that made the stranger take a half step back. “They can’t really think that I’d believe that?”

“You have good cause to distrust us but I beg that you believe the words of my Anunnaki master. Even now, they are on the verge of a civil war for having attacked Earth. The price has been too heavy and many who had once supported the attack now regret their decision and are seeking an end to the war.”

“So you now want to throw us a party? We’re going to become the best of friends,” said Novacek, “All right—let’s say they do regret their earlier decision.

They should—because with just one of our ships we wiped their alien ass of a fleet, both at Earth and here. So let me tell you what’s going to happen.” Novacek stepped up to him, putting his face right up to the stranger’s. “Your Anunnaki masters are going to surrender to us, unconditionally.

If they do not, when our other ships arrive in a few weeks, I will order them to destroy your masters. Is that clear enough for you? Convey that message to them!” said Novacek, with all the bravado the words called for. “After what they did to my world, they deserve to die. They should accept my offer and pray that I don’t change my mind.”

Novacek noticed the stranger’s jaw tense as he clenched his teeth. “Our surrender? My masters offer you freedom to live—and you want them to surrender?”

“Do I need to repeat myself? Or have you just been kissing their Anunnaki asses for so long that you’ve forgotten what it means to be human?”

Novacek looked down and kicked at the sand. “If you want my trust, tell me. How many other people, human people, are on this world?”

“Many, but they do not keep records of such things. I am sorry.”

Novacek had taken an instant dislike to the man, and yet, the stranger’s voice denoted conviction and belief in the words he spoke.

“Perhaps, in exchange for your help, when our ships arrive in a few weeks—you’d like to travel back to Earth with us?

That—or you can hold their hand while we destroy them.”

“I have often dreamt of home.” The stranger’s words were slow, deliberate. He seemed to be reminiscing. “It seems so long ago.”

“Let’s try a simpler question. How many Anunnaki are on this world? Do you know that?”

“I do—it is one. He is of the Elite, royal bloodline—a Prince. He is the highest and purest form of Anunnaki.”

“One? Then who is attacking us? Are they not all Anunnaki?”

“They are not Anunnaki; they are creations of my master. They are workers. They are impure, an abomination—though they serve a functional purpose.

Your people call them, Grays. You know so little about my master and this world. Perhaps this is why you should not be so quick to judge our intentions.”

“And perhaps, your heart is not so much human, as it is Anunnaki? You seem to think of yourself as different from the rest of us. Why?” asked Novacek.

The stranger squinted. “Is it so hard to understand that we desire to fit in, to be accepted by those who are superior to us?”

Novacek’s brow furrowed with anger, “Superior? If you ever say that again—I’ll cut you down where you stand!”

The stranger’s eyes almost seemed to turn red, as he struggled for restraint. Bowing slightly, “Perhaps, you are right. Perhaps, we have forgotten,” said the stranger, seeking to smooth the tension created. “I offer myself as security. As long as I am here, no attack will come. Is it possible that I could meet your people? I would be happy to answer questions. Perhaps it will lower the tension between us?”

Novacek considered the offer long and hard, then consented. As they walked back towards the encampment, the stranger spoke, “I have been told that your people fight valiantly. Many have come to honor you.”

“As they should,” said Novacek, keeping up the strong facade. Novacek’s gut told him that the stranger could be broken, that the real motivation could be discovered.

“I do not remember humans being so arrogant! Have things changed so much on Tiamat?”

“Tiamat?”

“Excuse me, that is what the Anunnaki call your planet.”

Novacek noticed a nervousness growing within the stranger as they neared the scorched area where the forest had been. “Are you afraid of a few spiders?”

“Not afraid. Cautious. The bite of the Uttu children kills.”

“Uttu? The spiders?” asked Novacek.

“Yes, if my caution offends you, I beg your forgiveness. Please, my friend, let us go to your people. Let me see with my own eyes those of my home world. Tomorrow, I will do as you say. I will deliver your message to my master.”

Inside the cave, the stranger marveled at the number of people coming to greet him. “I did not realize there were so many of you. I was told that you were few in number.”

“Perhaps your Anunnaki master is not as knowledgeable as he believes himself to be?” goaded Novacek.

The biggest surprise came when the stranger spotted the river. “There is so much water!” Without waiting, he waded out into the river up to his knees. “It has been long since I have seen water such as this.” The crew chuckled as the stranger, fully clothed, sat down in the river, his child-like exuberance painting smiles on their faces. “I had forgotten how cool it can feel.” Lifting a handful of water to his mouth to drink, he instantly spat it out. “I cannot drink this, it is bad! It has no taste!”

Novacek observed, watching him intently.

“I had not thought it would taste so bad.” As the stranger started to rise, he suddenly shrieked, his terror evident, “Something touched my leg!” Jumping from the river, he screamed, “Something is in there!”

The crew laughed hysterically. Only Novacek seemed to think it was strange.

“It’s just a fish!” came the quick reply of several onlookers.

“Yes, just a fish. How foolish of me,” he said, continuing to stare fearfully at the water.

“Come, sit by the fire,” Novacek urged.

“Sit by the fire, yes.” Having taken a seat, “I should mention that I have word of other members of your crew. My master had hoped it would build trust between us.”

Novacek cocked his head in anticipation.

“We found one person, dead—two days ago. By the look of your clothes, he was from your party. Now that I see this place, I assume he must have gone down the river from here. He was found at a place where the water exits from the ground in the desert—just before the sand again swallows it. We found little of importance. I was told that his body was badly torn, like the scraps that they found.” Reaching into a hidden pocket in his robe, he pulled out two small items, handing them to Novacek. The first a set of dog tags, the second, Ashlyn’s locket. “Do these help you?”

Novacek took the items. Looking at the locket first—then the tags, “Jefferson. Yes, it does.” He looked down at Phillip who was sitting beside him. The tears in the boy’s eyes broke his heart.

A whispering echo could be heard sifting round the room as the news spread. The stranger noticed Phillip’s tears and the whispers of the crew. “Are there others that we should be looking for? Others which may have survived?”

“No, he was alone. These belonged to Jefferson, one of our crew.” Novacek said the words loud enough so that the crew took notice, so that it would silence them. “He took a boat and ran when you surrounded the mountain. He was a coward.”

Novacek wasn’t about to reveal the truth.

The crew spent the next hour asking questions of the stranger. To Novacek, while the stranger’s words were eloquent and full of hope, he just couldn’t bring himself to believe them. With apprehension, he headed outside to check on the watches, taking Phillip with him.

“It’s pretty peaceful out there, sir. No movement,” said the sentry as Novacek and Phillip stepped up beside him.

“Gordon, do you think my Dad and Ashlyn are dead?” asked Phillip, his voice shaky.

“No, they are okay. I’m sure of it. I have a small gift, and sometimes I can see things before they happen. I promise you, right now, they are doing great. Don’t tell our guest though, okay. I don’t trust him.”

Novacek got the tightest hug he’d ever had. The moment flooded his mind with memories, back to when his wife had been pregnant, and back to her death, when the doctors had informed him that she’d been carrying his son.

Phillip’s hug melted his heart and made him miss the dream he had once held.

***

“What is it?” asked Ashlyn as she turned to face Steven.

The time had arrived for him to reveal his dark revelation, “On the way here, aboard Avenger, I discovered a secret file that President Tomlinson had sent to my computer.

Ash, it was about the Children of Destiny Foundation. The things I read and saw were—all the atrocities that had been done. I didn’t know how to tell you, but there was a file titled, D’na. It was about you. It showed pictures of you at various ages. The final picture of you was as you appear now.”

Ash swallowed, nervously.

“Ash, I don’t know how to tell you this, but—from what I read—Tynabo killed far more than your friends in stasis. He killed thousands of other people, children, to create us. He had volumes of books on his failed experiments. There were babies that were deformed. Monstrosities. Many weren’t very human looking. They were some sort of twisted, part human, part alien creature. He let them suffer, dying slowly. Many of them were screaming in unimaginable pain, living in cages. It was nightmarish.

I don’t know how many children suffered so that we could be here. I don’t know what part of us is human or Anunnaki.”

A tear escaped from Ashlyn’s eyes as she felt Steven’s pain. “Tynabo was wrong, but it was his doing, not yours, not ours. We can’t change the past but we can change the future.

Our greatest strength is that we are one. Don’t you see, by not having told me earlier, not only were you denying my help and support, but you were also weakening us. I understand that you were trying to protect me, and I love you all the more for it,” said Ashlyn, her eyes soft. “But you should not have had to bear that alone. We are one!”

“Women are so damn confusing!”

“And Anunnaki women are even more so!” said Ashlyn. Ash shivered and then snuggled deeply into his arms.

“How do you make everything seem so simple? I’ve been upset about this for weeks,” said Steven.

“You should have talked to me about it.

If I ever have to remind you of that again, I’m going to spank you!” quipped Ash.

“Is that a punishment or a reward?” said Steven.

“Maybe it’s both. Your punishment and my reward.” Shifting so that she could look into Steven’s eyes, “Steven, I have a couple of things to tell you too.”

“I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.”

“One is actually good news. It’s Novacek. He’s one of us,” said Ash.

“Novacek? How—how’s that possible? How did you find that out?”

“When I entered the bridge, just before you set Avenger’s auto-destruct, he shook my hand, congratulating me for making it safely back aboard.”

“And—you got the tingle with him?”

“That is so cute! And, no, I didn’t. His aura isn’t matched to mine like yours is but we’re apparently sharing enough of his genetics that I sensed the kinship between us. I’m probably more accustomed to sensing it than you are. We had hundreds of doctors and support staff around us constantly, but they all felt different from those that were like us at the Foundation. Our senses grew acutely sharp. We learned how to detect the subtlety between those who were like us and those who weren’t. We made a game of it sometimes.”

“At least that explains his score on the Academy Finals.”

“His score?”

“He had the second highest score in the history of the Academy’s finals! That’s why I chose him.”

“Second to yours?”

Steven nodded. “Does he have a female counterpart?”

“I don’t think so. I believe he’s one of the earlier designs, part of the Einstein Program that worked out of White Sands. The goal at that time was to unlock the brain’s potential. From the few rumors that filtered down to us, early test subjects were so intelligent that many were deemed, clinically insane. The strain of correlating such vast amounts of input was just too much for the emotional psyche to process.

Novacek must have been one of the later triumphs and due to his success they were able to move on to the next phase—us.”

With a sigh, Steven pushed forward, “Ok, you gave me the good one. Sooo, what’s the bad one?”

Wincing, then hesitating briefly, “Tynabo came to me a few days before our 24th birthday—he wanted to tell me about-” Ashlyn’s voice cracked.

It only took Steven a second to understand the source of her pain, “Ren. He told you about Ren and I?”

Ashlyn nodded, looking down at the grass, “Yes. He told me that you were getting married.” Slowly, her eyes rose to meet his, “Tynabo thought it best to let President Tomlinson discuss the situation with you in person. He’d said that you were scheduled to meet in a few weeks.”

“It’s true, we were.” Steven thought back to the President’s recording, where he had expressed his desire to speak with him privately regarding his personal circumstances. Now, it all made sense. “So you knew about Renee?”

“Not exactly—I mean, Tynabo never gave me your names. I just knew that my mate was in love with someone. I didn’t even know where you were.

It did peak my interest that the President had an interest in you, but Tynabo never told me why.

On the day when the alarm sounded, Tynabo wanted me to be flown to your location. He insisted actually, but I refused. If I had gone—our close proximity would have initiated the fugue.

I couldn’t do that to you. You were in love. My presence would have stolen that from you. It wasn’t my decision to make. It was yours.”

Steven looked at her confused, “Ash, why is that so important? Everything worked out. I don’t understand.”

“Steven, because I chose to go into stasis, dozens of good people died. If I’d flown to you like Tynabo wanted me too, yes, it would have initiated the fugue—but you would have received Tynabo’s gifts. That alone might have been enough to change everything.

At the very least, you never would have gone to Denver, so Cole would still be alive—and who knows how many others. Jackson? The pilots from my squadron? The forty-seven people in engineering? Those who died at the falls? Jenkins? Maybe none of this ever would have happened.”

Steven’s heart was heavy, her sadness overwhelming. “Ash, why didn’t you tell me all this sooner? We’re stronger together—remember?

Ash, you need to understand—the weight you’re feeling isn’t from your decision. You did what you thought was right. This all began long before us, with Enlil. He rigged the game from the beginning, manipulating us, using us—even rebelling against his own family.

I don’t understand everything that’s happening to us. I don’t know if there is such a thing as destiny. I can’t explain our visions. I have no idea what lies ahead of us.

All I know is what I feel in my heart. I believe in you. I believe in us.” Steven looked around at the beauty of the Garden, “Right now, this is where we are supposed to be, here in the Garden. I can feel it. It’s like a fire burning within me.

I also know—that I love you—and I never want to be away from you, not for a single moment.” Steven then leaned over, giving her a long, tender kiss.

When their eyes opened, the tree above them was radiating. A yellow, glowing fruit was hanging from its branches.

“It didn’t have fruit on it when we sat down! I’m sure of it!” said Ash.

“I’m sure of it too,” confirmed Steven. “This is the second Gift.”

“It’s Occam’s razor,” said Ashlyn. “Everything The Keeper has told us—all of it is so obviously simple, logical.”

Steven, saw the simplicity, the clarity of it all. “Yes, it is. It was man that polluted history, twisting it round until it became unrecognizable, people using it to further their own egotistical quests for power and greed.

Humanity, so eager to have answers, grasped onto anything that had a hint of truth in it. If we couldn’t explain it, we said it was a mystery, believing that God must have His own hidden agenda that’s beyond our understanding. We blinded ourselves to the truth, ignoring logic in favor of misguided faith.

The problem is that faith based upon twisted information is nothing more than delusion—and delusion leads to division. It divided humanity, taking us into endless wars, separating us by race, religion, politics.”

“It all seems so clear. It was before us all the time,” added Ashlyn.

“Staring us in the face,” said Steven. “Written out and plainly stated. Like you said, Ash. It’s Occam’s razor. The simplest answer is usually the correct one.”

“So the tree revealed itself to us because we were honest with The Keeper and—ourselves,” said Ash. “It read our hearts.”

“I think that’s exactly what happened. It was Enki’s way of assuring that we’re worthy of receiving the Gift. It was a test of our morals, our virtues and our ethical principles.

That was Enlil’s mistake—he abandoned all of them.”

Steven looked up at the fruit and then back into Ashlyn’s eyes, searching for the confirmation that he expected to find.

“Yes, my love! I will eat from it with you.”

Stretching on his tiptoes, he picked one of the glowing fruits off a branch. It radiated a pleasing warmth in his hand.

“This time the man’s going to eat first.”

“Sexist!” she said with a teasing smirk.

“I thought I was doing you a favor? This time if the world gets all screwed up, women won’t take the blame for it.”

“Yes, and if it all goes right, you’ll claim all the credit for it!”

“Should we flip a leaf?”

“No. You go ahead, I’m anxious to see if I’m in love with a prince or a frog.”

Steven took a bite from the fruit. It was the sweetest, freshest tasting fruit he’d ever eaten. Handing it to Ashlyn, she followed suit.

They held hands, waiting to see if they’d feel differently or if something was going to happen.

“I’m not sure what I expected—trumpets? Maybe a little harp music? Something?” Steven jested with an accompanying shrug of his shoulders.

Holding hands, they walked back through the Garden to stand before The Keeper.

The tree began to glow. “You have done well, my children. You have passed the test. You have received the Gift of Knowledge.”

“Thank you. Keeper, what is the Gift of Knowledge?” asked Ashlyn.

“It has been given and even now it is beginning to grow within you. If I were to tell you, what it was—you would seek it out and it would elude you. It must be allowed to come naturally—for it is now and forever a part of you.”

“Does Enlil possess this Gift of Knowledge?”

“Enlil has possessed both of the Gifts since before my creation. All pure Anunnaki are born with them.”

“Keeper, I would like to ask. Can we share our Gifts with others?” asked Steven as he thought of Phillip and Novacek.

“It is your right as pure Anunnaki to partake from the Water of Life, and if I am so ordered, to give it to others.

As for the Gift of Knowledge, each person must take the test.”

Steven reflected upon The Keeper’s words, “Keeper—you just said that we are pure Anunnaki? How are we pure, if we are only part Anunnaki?”

“You are pure because you are full Anunnaki, of the royal bloodline. You are the family of Lord Enlil and Lord Enki.”

As realization dawned, “That’s it! Ash—that’s why Enlil was working with Earth. He coerced the world’s governments into cooperating with him, making them collect millions of genetic samples from people. He continued the guise of cooperation until he’d finally found all the bits and pieces of the genes to create a true, one-hundred percent pure, female Anunnaki.

Enlil’s own genes could provide the male side, but he needed those that you possess. That’s why Tynabo kept you at the Foundation. He was protecting you. You are what Enlil was after.

Tynabo created me so that we could propagate humankind, nothing more.”

Steven’s mind vibrated with energy, thoughts came flooding in quicker than he could speak them. “Enlil wants to build an army of immortals, like himself. He’s forbidden from entering here—but, if he can create others who are loyal to him to pass as pure Anunnaki, he’ll breed a new army with which to attack the Anunnaki home world.

He wants vengeance against those who banished him.”

“So, once he had the last missing genetic piece and we were no longer needed—he destroyed us,” said Ashlyn.

“Yes. It’s the ultimate revenge. He enlisted the help of the uplifted children to help him kill the parents, the Anunnaki creators,” said Steven, adding, “That’s why President Tomlinson and Tynabo hid us and Sea Base from the world. They both knew the day would come when Enlil would turn on us.”

“The NASA patch. One giant leap for mankind. They knew we were humanity’s only chance for a future,” said Ashlyn.

“President Tomlinson had told me to forgive him, that there was a reason behind their madness. Only now, do I understand what he meant,” said Steven.

“You are wise Lord Steven and Lady Ashlyn. I did not perceive Enlil’s motive. You are worthy of being called Anunnaki.”

“Keeper, you must not let others come here. Even those who appear to be pure Anunnaki. Not before Enlil and his followers are destroyed. The risk to the Anunnaki home world is too great. Are you capable of enforcing this?”

“As the last Anunnaki to have entered and passed the tests, you have the right to give such an order. Your answer is, yes, I am capable of enforcing it. I am pleased to have such an honorable task.”

“Keeper, are those who traveled here with us still outside the wall?” asked Ashlyn.

“Yes, they are waiting for you.”

“Steven, why don’t we give them the Gifts? They can help us fight Enlil.”

“I am sorry, Lady Ashlyn, but they cannot enter.”

“Why?” asked Ashlyn.

“I have not always been watching those who are outside. It is possible that even now, they are not who they appear to be.”

“I don’t understand,” said Ashlyn, frightened by the implication.

“I am sorry, but I am prohibited from explaining.”

Steven exhaled deeply, “All right, then let the order be given. No one must be allowed through the wall until Enlil is destroyed,” commanded Steven. “Keeper, does Enlil have any weaknesses that we can use to defeat him?”

“Perhaps. I do not know if it will be of use to you, but when Enlil was a child, a creature beneath the surface of the water on Heaven, frightened him. It left him with an unnatural fear of what he cannot see.

Though, he is strong and has millions of years of experience, his weakness is his arrogance. He does not believe that he can be defeated.”

“I understand. If he believes himself to have no weakness, then that, in-and-of-itself, is a weakness.”

“The Anunnaki would be proud of your wisdom, Lord Steven. As your friend I wish that I could be of greater help to you.”

“Is there anything more you can tell us before we depart, anything that may help us?”

“You must be careful on your journey to the Great Pyramid. Along the way, there will be many dangers.

There is the Uttu, a creature that lives beneath the sand. They are on an endless search for moisture and are very dangerous to those who walk upon the surface.”

“The spiders?”

“Yes, your people call them spiders.

There are also other dangers; you would call them, Neanderthals. They were the first to serve Lord Enlil and were the first to receive an uplift on Tiamat, long ago. Now, they wander the desert trying to avoid the slave caravans that seek them out. While many are timid and complacent, you should not underestimate their strength or ability in combat.

You must also beware of the Igigi patrols. Your people refer to them as the Grays. They will be hunting you. You must avoid them at all cost. They are barbaric, merciless.

Lord Steven, Lady Ashlyn—I believe it is possible that Enlil has already created his pure Anunnaki. Nine years ago, he arrived from off world with an escort of new, Elite Guard. They are tall and human looking in appearance.

I had thought it curious that humans would choose to serve Enlil, but now, after your observation of Enlil’s motivations; I do not believe they are human. He calls them, Watchers—same as those who had served him millennia ago.”

“Keeper, thank you, my friend. Do you have any information on the others of my group that arrived here on Hades with me? I left them encamped at a mountain surrounded by a forest northwest of here. Do you know if they are safe?”

“The mountain’s name is Sinai and it has been used by your people for many thousands of years.

The others that arrived here with you, now encamped at the mountain, have done great damage to Enlil’s forces. Many thousands of his followers have died. So far, it appears that your people are safe.”

Steven grinned, happy for the good news. “Keeper, I have one last question for you. The pedestal also spoke of the Sword of Truth! What is it?”

“It is a symbol of the Anunnaki—one given to each member of the royal family. The orders of the one who wields it are never questioned. It is a symbol of heritage. A symbol of power.

Enki had sought it out when he was here on Hadaesia, wanting to strip it from Enlil and return it to his family on Heaven. He never found it, however.”

“We owe you more than we can ever repay and to simply say thank you isn’t sufficient.”

“As Anunnaki, you have the right to possess the Gifts. Your presence here and the wisdom you have shown, make you worthy. I am proud and honored to have helped you, my children.”

“We look forward to returning here and speaking with you again,” said Ashlyn. “Keeper, may I ask, are we able to have some time of privacy here in the Garden, not being observed by you?”

“Yes, when you are ready to leave, simply place your hand upon the wall, and I will see you thru.”

“Thank you, Keeper.”

“Fare thee well on your journey, Lord Steven and Lady Ashlyn,” said The Keeper, the tree’s glowing light dimmed.

Passing by the stream, “Steven, can you hold me here, by the stream for a few minutes before we return outside?”

For all of Ashlyn’s genetic manipulation, her spirit and heart were clearly human. For her, all the troubles they faced were outside the wall. They both knew that they had no choice but to confront Enlil—but for now, they chose to lay claim to a small moment of tranquility.

Sitting on a smooth boulder, Ash deep in his arms, they talked, “Steven, do you think The Keeper is a machine?”

“By a stretch of our definition, yes—but as we understand machines, no. He’s a creation, a device but far more at the same time. He may be a true life form on his own merits.”

“Do you think we can defeat Enlil?” Ashlyn asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know, Ash. The only thing I am sure of—is that we can’t underestimate him. If it were a football game, I’d bet on the team with more experience every time.

In our case, however, we have nine billion reasons why we want to destroy him.”

“Steven—I asked for the privacy, because I want to have sex with you here, in the garden. It’s so beautiful.” She turned round, facing him. Her eyes lowered to his cock.

Steven laughed as a thought ran through his head.

“What is it? Ash asked.

With a shrug of his shoulders, “I ate the fruit first—so I guess it’s your turn to eat first, now.” With a laugh, he added, “We’re the two neediest people I’ve ever known.”

Ashlyn’s would have laughed too, if she hadn’t been so anxious. Kneeling between his legs, with coddling fingers, her mouth engulfed him.

Chapter 17

Novacek was staring at the man, when he suddenly realized what he had been missing. It had been gnawing at him and now that he saw it, it seemed obvious. Cutting through the chatter of the crowd, “You told me earlier that the Anunnaki are on the verge of a civil war and that many regret their attack upon us?”

“Yes—that is so.”

“You’re lying! You told me that there is only one Anunnaki, that the others, the Grays, are his creations, an abomination. There would be no civil war! They would not dare to challenge him or question his authority.”

Novacek had said the words loudly. The crew separated, clearing the path between the two of them.

The man stared at him, a picture of polished poise. “It was just my improper use of your language. As I told you, I do not speak it much anymore.

Please understand that we were defending our home. Was it not you that fired the first missiles at our ships when you arrived? Did you not travel here to destroy us? Were we wrong to want to defend ourselves?

We realize that a mistake was made when we attacked Earth, but we now wish to make it up to you.”

Novacek knew that many of the crew wanted to believe. The visitor was very convincing.

“I warned you earlier, and yet again, you said, we. Perhaps you truly are one of them?” Novacek’s rage was clearly visible.

“It is only a figure of speech. For thousands of years—it has been the way humans have spoken. We live here, now. We are part of their culture.”

“Why haven’t you given us your name?” Novacek asked, very aware that he had not given his own.

“If indeed I forgot, please forgive me.” The man rose, his stature becoming resolute, imposing. He seemed taller, more formidable than before. With a sigh, resigned to discovery, “My name is Enlil.”

Novacek reached for his blaster. Seeing Novacek’s reaction, the crew did likewise.

Enlil’s gaze hardened. Deep creases in his forehead betrayed an underlying, seething hatred. His eyes revealed a deceivingly dangerous persona.

A flurry of images suddenly flashed through Novacek’s mind. What he saw stretched his imagination to the point where for the first time in his life, his small glimpses of insight into the future made no sense.

The stranger, moving ever so slowly so as not to raise alarm, his hands straight out to his sides, moved closer to Novacek. In the center of Enlil’s pupils, Novacek saw a burning fire alight. With a guttural god-like voice that filled the room, “No man has ever spoken to me as you have—and lived.”

As understanding dawned and the flashes of Novacek’s vision began to fall into place, his finger pulled the trigger.

Enlil swatted him away with one arm as if he were a gnat.

Slamming against the cavern wall, Novacek crumpled to the floor. He fought to remain conscious, his vision black as night from the jarring jolt, his head and back aching terribly. If bones had been broken, it was masked beneath the wrenching pain.

While he listened to the cries and terrified screams of those around him, a deafening shrieking roar like nothing he had ever heard before filled the cavern, curdling his blood. He could hear the snapping bones of people being killed. From his left, an intense flash of heat singed the hair on his arm, making him roll aside to escape.

Slowly, as his vision began to clear and he could make out the shadowy forms of people scattering—his eyes focused upon the horror from which they fled. In disbelief, he raised his blaster and fired.

***

The sun had just crested the eastern mountains, as Steven and Ashlyn were gently set outside the wall. The warmth of the early morning air greeted them.

Paris saw them first and ran over to them, stopping midway to pick up Ashlyn’s clothes which they’d set atop a rock. “Need I ask what you two have been up to?” she said staring down at Steven. Though his erection was gone, his engorgement from his time with Ashlyn was still heavy—and it was the largest cock she had ever seen.

“You wouldn’t believe it, if I told you,” Ashlyn replied.

“I think I might,” said Paris, her eyes fixated on Steven.

Likewise, Brummon, distracted by Ashlyn’s naked body and wobbling breasts, stood helpless, watching her put on her white cotton blouse. When she shimmied into her panties and blue jeans, he absentmindedly dropped Steven’s clothes to the ground.

Steven didn’t blame him, for Ashlyn’s body was a spiritual experience, but he still felt a possessive sense of keep it in your pants, buddy.

“We were just about to leave, and head back to the rest of the crew,” said Brummon.

“You were going to leave?” questioned Steven, completely bewildered. “Why—we weren’t gone very long?”

“It’s been four days. How long did you think we were going to wait?” said Paris with sincerity.

“Four days?” repeated Steven. He looked at Ashlyn. “It felt like twelve, maybe thirteen hours.”

“Not on this side of the wall!” countered Tomlinson.

Ashlyn looked at Steven, “There must be a time differential within the containment field.”

“Well, that isn’t the only odd thing,” said Tomlinson. “I hiked up the western face of the southern mountain to get a look behind the wall, and guess what I saw? Nothing! From up top, the whole thing is invisible, even the wall. It’s just another valley with more rocks, trees and scrub-brush. When I tried to climb down into it, I almost broke my nose when I ran into its invisible shield.”

“Enough of the hocus-pocus talk. I want to know what’s on the other side!” said Paris, anxious to hear what they had found.

“Answers!” said Steven. “Answers to everything!”

***

Three days later, traveling by night and sleeping during the heat of day, Steven and his party crested a small dune, the sun just beginning to rise at their backs. Before them, two hundred yards away, was a long, slow-moving, slave caravan.

Crouching low on the dune’s crest, binoculars raised, they watched the procession.

“I count 311 prisoners, 57 Igigi,” said Steven.

“That’s my count too,” agreed Ashlyn.

“By Igigi, you mean Grays?” asked Tomlinson.

“Yes. The Keeper said that’s their proper name,” said Steven.

“They’ll always be fugly Grays to me,” said Tomlinson.

“Cavemen, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” said Maria. They were straight out of the textbook, large, heavy bones, brows and thick, straggly hair over the majority of their body.

“Yes, there’s cavemen down there,” added Steven, almost chuckling.

The captives were naked except for a few with leathered skins upon their feet. Each slave was bound to another by a single, iron cuff around the wrist and tethered by a heavy chain. Like cattle-drivers, the Grays kept them moving. They held a rifle in one hand and a twirling whip strung with razor sharp barbs in the other—always at the ready to lash those who were lagging behind.

As Steven, Ashlyn and the others watched, an older woman stumbled and fell. Even as her partner, a silver haired female Neanderthal pulled at the chain between them, trying to urge her to rise, a Gray discharged his weapon making a clean slice across the woman’s bound wrist. The freed Neanderthal immediately turned and again joined the moving procession, dragging the cuffed severed hand along in the sand behind her.

The old woman lay on the ground, clutching her stumped arm tightly to her chest, screaming, pleading for her fellow slaves to stop and help her. But not one of them bothered to even throw a glance in her direction.

As the next guard came upon her, he put the tip of his rifle to her head and pulled the trigger, silencing her.

“Why didn’t the other slaves try to help her?” whispered Paris.

“Look at all the whip marks. Their spirit has been beaten out of them. Death is probably a blessing,” whispered Steven.

Suddenly, Paris’ back exploded. Her blood, flesh and pulverized bone fragments erupted with a splash, dousing Steven who was next to her.

Behind them, a dozen or more Grays were walking toward them, their pulse rifles blazing.

Steven raised his weapon, firing at the nearest Gray in the advancing line. The laser struck him, slicing a clean line across his thin neck. His head fell off his shoulders as his body briefly stood erect, rebelling against gravity.

Screams from the crew broke out, “I’m hit, I’m-,” cried Maria as another blast killed the words that hung in her mouth.

Shooting, moving, rolling, they struggled to avoid the blasts that were cutting them down. Steven caught a glimpse of Ashlyn as her blaster failed to fire, rolling she pulled the trigger again, nothing. Her weapon had malfunctioned.

Ash dove and wriggled round three incoming shots. Her training and reflexes served her well as she twirled and spun, unloading the four knives on her armguards in a flurry. The first two, caught its victim square in the throat. The next two struck their target between the eyes. The forth knife caught a guard square in his chest, buried up to the bolster.

Cartwheeling round, she pulled yet another hidden knife from her right boot and with a side-arm release, caught a Gray in the shoulder, forcing him to drop his heavy rifle.

Ten of the twelve Grays had been dropped when from behind, they heard, “Zae Zig!” said a Gray in a snake like hissing drawl.

You stand, thought Steven as he translated the Sumerian words.

Ensign Smith swung round to fire, but before he could pull the trigger, he was hit by several blasts.

“We surrender! Everyone cease fire!” yelled Steven as he dropped his weapon and raised his hands into the air. Without turning, Ashlyn and Brummon did the same. Only the three of them had survived.

From their left, came several more Grays, who quickly encircled them.

Ashlyn looked down at the bodies of their team that lay sprawled around her. When she saw Tomlinson, who lay on the ground a few meters away, she saw that he was bloodied and hurt, but alive. In acknowledgement, Tomlinson gave Ashlyn a wink and then closed his eyes.

Ordered to stand, they were then told to strip out of their clothes. Steven, wanting to wipe away Paris’ clinging flesh and blood with his shirt—was given two hard lashes across his back with the barbed whip, flaying his skin.

The Gray, who had whipped him, pointed the tip of his rifle toward the ground, motioning for him to drop the shirt. Two of the Grays then collected their clothes, weapons and gear, allowing them to keep only their boots.

A short Gray, even by their standards, then pulled a shiny metallic rod from his belt and planting it into the ground, activated it. A loud, thrumming sound and heavy vibration, droned beneath their feet. Forty meters away, two explosions erupted from under the sand as nearby Uttu reacted to the noise and went racing away. The Grays had known that the Uttu would be drawn to the moisture of the spilled blood.

Steven and Ashlyn turned suddenly, reacting to the sound of a rifle blast. One of the guards was walking round the team, shooting each person who had not risen, in the head.

As the executioner came to Tomlinson, Ashlyn stepped forward. “Enlil. I want to talk to Enlil.”

Steven had no clue what Ashlyn was doing.

The words stopped all the Grays in their tracks. The nearest one approached Ashlyn, hitting the back of her legs with his rifle, forcing her to kneel.

“Bring yo’r head to him, I wi’l, so you may talk,” said the Gray in poor English. He followed the words with a screeching noise that grated like a knife blade on a honing stone. Raising his rifle, he put the tip of the barrel to Ashlyn’s head.

“Gil-im mi! Enki gil-im Igigi,” screamed Steven. “Kill woman! Enki kill Igigi,” Steven repeated in English. “Hurt her and Enki will hang your head upon his belt. Enki has sent us to deliver a message to Enlil.”

The Gray, a bit surprised at Steven’s use of their native tongue, paused only briefly before, “You li’! God Enlil, ki’l Enki! We se’ if Enki sav’ her,” taunted the nearest of the Grays to Ashlyn. With a crack, his whip began lashing her.

Steven started toward her but the Gray standing behind him butted him in the head with his rifle, dropping him face first to the ground. A streaming trickle of blood ran from his hairline down into his eye, blurring his vision. Steven struggled against the darkness that he felt closing in around him.

A lash from a whip struck Steven across his face, splitting his cheek open down to his chin. It was only the beginning as the guard who had struck him continued lashing him repeatedly.

All the guards who were watching, began jumping, swinging their whips round in the air, an exhibition of their excitement over seeing humans whipped.

Ashlyn’s Gray, intent on killing her, lashed at her furiously.

Between lashes to himself, Steven fought to catch glimpses of Ashlyn. She lay motionless on the sand, her body a bloody and shredded heap of flesh.

Steven’s hatred seethed, building into an uncontrollable rage as the Gray gave her stroke after lashing stroke. He tried to will his abilities to aid them. He had done it before, when he had saved Avenger and slowed Ashlyn’s Sharkfin, but now—the power escaped him and he cursed himself for failing her.

He suddenly understood how helpless, how powerless, Novacek must have felt when he witnessed the death of his wife. It was crushing.

Though he knew not what he could do physically, his muscles tensed, bulging in preparation to go to Ashlyn’s defense when he heard, “No, Steven. I can endure the pain. We can’t die here. We have to survive so we can face Enlil.”

Through a tormented and anger-enraged mind, Steven declared his love for her, and for that only, did he find the strength to hold back.

Only when the Gray grew tired, did he stop whipping her.

“Zig.” Ordered the Gray wanting Steven, Ashlyn and Brummon to get to their feet. Brummon rose first, but Ashlyn lay still as death. If there was any movement of air filling her lungs, it was imperceptible.

Steven struggled to get onto his hands and knees, his tortured and twisted face a reflection of the immense pain that was ravaging him. Crawling toward Ashlyn, his pain threatening to push him into unconsciousness, the trail of blood behind him painting the sand red—he reached out touching her hand. Feeling the familiar tingle, though it was faint, it was a ray of hope. It was with a mighty scream, that he managed to stand.

He tottered, his legs shaking uncontrollably. His left eye was swollen shut, the right filled with flowing blood. The top of his left ear hung limply, as did the left side of his lower lip dangle, ripped. Spatting out the blood in his mouth, he made a quick swipe with his arm to clear his vision. He grunted heavily as he lifted Ashlyn up. Throwing her arm round his neck, he held her fast, supporting her weight on his shoulder and hip.

Ashlyn was little more than a blood covered rag doll. Of the dozens of wounds, the slash that ran from her left ear down her neck was the one that worried him most. The only possible explanation for why she was still alive was the Water of Life.

Steven had been right; death was a blessing for the slaves. For the pain of his own flayed back, arms and legs dredged up such wishful thoughts.

Within his mind, he was screaming at Ashlyn, pleading for her to answer him. In response, he heard only the brutality of stark silence.

Heeding the prod of a guard’s rifle, Steven walked her down to join the waiting slave caravan. Though Ashlyn clearly wasn’t capable of supporting her own weight, he was grateful that she was able to shuffle her feet. It was almost as if she were mimicking his steps, his movements. It was something and seemed enough for the Grays to spare her life.

To say that the pain was unbearable was an understatement and yet it was renewed with each step. His blood loss was heavy, and he felt faint. It was sheer stubbornness and the thought of future revenge that kept him from blacking out.

Upon reaching the caravan, one of the guards cuffed them together.

Brummon was partnered with the Neanderthal woman they had spotted earlier. It was only as Brummon’s eyes scrunched, and his face turned green in nausea, that Steven realized the source of his reaction.

Following Brummon’s gaze, Steven saw that one of his testicles was hanging outside his scrotum, which had been ripped open by the barbs on the whip. Steven’s pain had been so intense, that he hadn’t noticed. With barely a care, he pushed it back inside thru the tear. It was all he could do.

Brummon’s mouth dropped in shock as the cave-woman cuffed beside him, reached out and flipped up his cock with a finger. When it fell, like it were a toy, she reached out wanting to do it again, seemingly hoping that it might stay up this time. When he quickly covered himself, stopping her, she bared her blocky, yellowed teeth at him. Her look was one that could either be construed as mocking him for dismissing her or an overtly, flirtatious overture. Either choice had the same effect. He was suddenly very self-conscious.

When the cave woman grabbed one of her hairy breasts offering it to him, the focus of her intent became clear.

The two men in front of Steven and Ashlyn, never flinched, never moved. Like everyone in the caravan, their backs looked like a game of pickup sticks as layer after layer of scar tissue told of their long abuse. A rancid stench permeated the air as the odor of festering sores and open wounds filled his nostrils, and if he’d had the strength, he would have vomited.

“Ngir,” Walk, Steven’s mind subconsciously translated from Sumerian. It was accompanied by the hum of twirling whips as they again got the caravan moving.

For the better part of the day, under the blistering heat of the dual suns, the caravan marched along, slowly following the twisting path of a dried riverbed.

Steven’s inward calls to Ashlyn remained unanswered. She had retreated into a catatonic world of silence, a place of quiet, a place without pain and Steven feared that she might never return. She simply walked, matching his footsteps.

Finally, just minutes after sunset, they were brought to a halt at the base of a tall bluff. Steven watched as one of the guards hammered in the rod that would drive the Uttu away. Then, he pulled a bundle of three, thin straws from a quiver on his back and hammered them into the ground until out of each, a spring of water sprouted.

“Nan.” The call for the slaves to drink had been issued. The people rose timidly, all eager, but none wanting to be the first to drink. It was a weathered, middle-aged man who broke the stalemate. Apparently, as Steven came to learn, the first person always received a single lashing across the back before drinking. He also learned that the first person could drink ‘til he was done, whereas the timing for the others was up to the discretion of the supervising guard.

Over the next hour while the slaves took their turns, Steven tried to rouse Ashlyn. As before, all his efforts went unanswered. Looking at her badly, tattered body, he was fearful that she would not survive the night, and it was all but a certainty, if she didn’t receive her ration of water.

Kneeling to pick up her limp body, her head lifelessly flopped to the side. “You’ve got to live, Ash. You’ve got to because I don’t want to live without you—even if I could.”

Carrying her to the end of the line at the springs, Steven’s tears began to flow. He could feel her life force ebbing away. He could feel his own strength waning in response.

When her turn came, he lowered her feet to the ground and supporting her weight, gently led her lips to the water. With its touch, she slowly roused—“Yes, that’s it, come on Ash, drink!” Her mouth parted and she began to gulp heartily. Before it had hardly begun, it seemed like her time was up and as the guard’s arm rose in preparation to strike her with the whip, Steven quickly scooped her up and whisked her away. The Igigi guard, knowing that Steven had not yet taken his turn, removed the stakes, giving an indignant squealing laugh as he did so.

It hadn’t escaped Steven’s notice that the guards themselves didn’t seem to have a need for the water. They drank from a small gourd that hung from their belt and it seemed to be their only source of sustenance. Even their energy seemed tireless as they prepared to stand guard throughout the night, apparently without sleep.

Each time Steven closed his eyes, his mind relived the scene of Ashlyn being whipped and beaten. It would be a memory that would forever scar his soul as it would forever scar their physical perfection, but he also came to realize how frivolous and allusive the trap of beauty was. It was a crown that no one could hold for long—as the ravages of time and age, eventually took their toll.

It was only now that he realized the full depth of his feelings for Ashlyn, for out of the puddle of his shallowness; he realized how deeply he would miss Ashlyn the person, if she did not return. If all his hopes and dreams could be encapsulated into one small wish, it would be merely to have Ashlyn return to him, to see her speak again. As exhaustion took hold and he drifted off, his final wakeful thought was of how much he loved her.

The guards awakened the slaves to the sound of a cracking whip. As Steven stood and stretched his legs, a hand softly touched his leg. “Your wounds?”

“Ash! You’re awake!” said Steven back to her in the meld. He reached down, helping her to stand. They hugged, the realization that her wounds were gone made him want to scream out joyously.

“Ash, god it’s nice to hear you talking again! I can’t believe all your wounds are gone! You’re so beautiful!”

“You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily!” she silently quipped. With a wide grin, “Steven, you do realize you’re healed too?”

He was so happy to have Ashlyn back that it was only now that her words struck home and he looked down at himself, his first glance going to his testicles.

Looking at Ashlyn, Steven added, “The Water of Life must regenerate the cells. That’s how it keeps us from growing old.” He reached for his shoulder and found that even the scar from his youth was gone.

“I can understand the Gift healing us, but where did all the blood go?” asked Ash. “We both look like we just took a shower!”

“The blood was part of us, it must have been absorbed.”

Steven’s joy at seeing Ashlyn beautiful again also made him acknowledge his own shallowness. “Can’t fight thousands of years of evolution.”

“What?” asked Ash.

“Outside joke, no pun intended!” he said to her with a broad grin.

Brummon, paired to the Neanderthal woman, awoke when he overheard Steven’s gasp of surprise. He stared, his shock of seeing them healed, stilled his voice.

Though he had only received a few lashings, Brummon’s injuries were horrifying to look at. Covered in dried blood and filled with sand, they oozed puss and viscous fluid from between the broken and cracked scabs that were forming.

Steven sympathized with him.

Again walking, they traveled for more than half a day before stopping at the edge of a deep gorge. The heat from the suns had been bearing down on them with unrelenting malice, driving Steven to desperation for a drink. Even with the Gift, his tongue was swelling, his lips beginning to crack. It had been two days since he had a drink of water.

Up ahead, a decaying bridge spanned an expansive canyon, six kilometers across. As the line slowly began to advance over it, everyone had to step over and around gaping holes in the floor of the ancient structure, made more complex by the tethering chain. The bridge itself was made from porous, yellow, hexagonal blocks that looked remarkably similar to that of a bee’s honeycomb. The entire structure was simple in architecture, yet complicated in mechanical physics. It stood like a great monolithic monument, a tribute to the Anunnaki long ago.

“Na zu uri,” a Gray said, as an unexpected lashing stroke from a whip broke across Steven’s neck and shoulder. The guard then poked him in the back with his gun, inspecting the area where he knew Steven had been whipped earlier.

“He’s noticed that your wounds are gone,” said Ashlyn silently.

They watched as he called to another Gray and they began speaking in their native tongue. No translation was needed to understand what they were discussing.

The two Grays approached, the one closest to Steven said, “Ngiz-al ni er-im,” and then he proceeded to lash him.

“This isn’t good Steven, he knows you healed!”

“I know!” said Steven, “He’s telling the other one to watch what happens.” The pain of the whip’s razor barbs peeling his flesh was excruciating. Steven’s clenched teeth ached from fighting against the pain.

“At least he didn’t notice that you healed,” Steven managed to say.

That day, they trekked for long hours in the hot sun. As night approached they were brought to a stop, and as was typical, the slaves slowly began taking turns at the straws of water. Only a few minutes slipped away—before the guards approached Steven, taking him and Ashlyn out of the line, to inspect his wounds. “Bar igi,” said one of the guards, the tip of his rifle poking the almost healed area where Steven had been lashed earlier that morning. As the other guard nodded in acknowledgement, their eyes rose to stare at Steven.

A moment later, they turned, moving away to discuss it amongst themselves. After only a few softly spoken words passed between them, the guards signaled for other Grays to join them. Together, they returned and to the prod of a rifle, Steven and Ashlyn were led out of the encampment.

There was going to be an execution.

***

Novacek’s perceptions sped, slowing the movement of everything around him. As his mind took in the visual of what was before him—his heart fought, not wanting to believe it was real. It was a beast of immense size, red in color with seven heads and ten horns. Even as his own thoughts began to put the pieces together, a voice from the crew confirmed what his eyes were telling him.

“It’s Satan!” Just the implication that it could be the creature from the book of Revelations was enough to inspire awe and fear.

Two of its seven heads were holding members of the crew in its jaws, while the other five snapped, trying to catch the fleeing people. Its spiked tail was swinging rhythmically back and forth.

The creature was tearing through the crew as if they were insignificant, their weapons doing no damage. Like the others, Novacek’s blaster was pummeling him, with no effect.

The beast tossed one of its victims into the air, catching him again by his arm, which tore away. The man, already dead, fell to the cavern floor.

In the low light of the cavern, Novacek tried to make out the identity of another person who was screaming. The beast flipped him round, catching him round his chest. To the sound of breaking ribs, blood squirted from the man’s mouth as the creature bit down, his head going limp. As the beast chomped, hungrily swallowing, bits and pieces of his body fell to the ground like crumbs.

Littered round the cavern, lay several of the crew, all dead.

Off to Novacek’s right, a Titan laser rifle opened up. The beast rose onto his hind legs and gave a loud, terrifying, shrill screech that was resonant enough to loosen several small boulders from the cavern’s ceiling. The Titan rifle had the power to do what the blasters could not. The first blast from the laser severed one of the horns atop its head. The next blast cut a long, clean line down the creature’s belly, spilling out unrecognizable organs and fluids.

The beast roared, retreating against the wall and then in a heartbeat, transformed back into the man, Enlil, intact and without blemish. The Titan rifle continued its assault upon him, but now, in this form, with seemingly little effect. Its mark only leaving a slightly darkened, singed area.

At that exact moment, Enlil’s eyes met Novacek’s—and in that instant as they shared a single thought, Novacek realized his vulnerability.

Next to him sat Phillip, curled into a ball and hiding his head. Enlil calmly walked over and as Novacek moved to shield him, Enlil batted him aside.

Reaching out, Enlil picked Phillip up and slung him over his shoulder. Phillip thrashed vainly, a broad smile coming to Enlil’s face as Phillip called out to Novacek for help.

For the second time in Novacek’s life, he felt completely helpless.

Though the words weren’t needed, he gave the command, “Cease-fire everyone. Cease-fire!

Enlil, let the boy go, take me instead. I promise you, no tricks.” Novacek laid his weapon down and raised his hands to shoulder height. Enlil taunted, faking his contemplation of the offer, before his lips pursed into a wide-toothed grin of pure evil.

“I suppose you are too innocent to know that the young ones taste best!” Without a care in the world, Enlil turned to exit—the crew that were in his way gazed at Novacek, silently asking what they should do.

As Enlil turned to look at Novacek, he shifted Phillip into a position where he could snap his neck.

“Let him go!” said Novacek to the crew. “Damn you, Enlil. This isn’t over. Do not harm the boy. Remember, our ships are on the way here. You’ll need him to negotiate—or we’ll have no reason to spare your life.” It was all he could do, little as it was.

The crew parted, letting Enlil walk out with Phillip.

No one knew what to do. To aggressively pursue a near, invincible enemy wasn’t the wisest of decisions and yet, to do nothing, left them feeling like cowards.

“Martin, get me an update on what losses we suffered, both the dead and injured!” ordered Novacek. “Banks, have the able-bodied members of the crew break open all the rafts and pack the gear into them. Prepare everyone to move-out in fifteen minutes! It doesn’t matter how badly they are injured. They have to go—or they’ll die!”

Novacek put his hand to his forehead, gingerly touching the bump that had risen where Enlil had swatted him. He had a least one broken rib. His back and shoulders, one giant contusion from his encounter with the cavern wall. With one leg injured, his other good leg felt as weak as a withered sapling.

“What are we going to do about the Admiral’s son?” Casey asked Novacek.

“I have no idea—I’m open to suggestions.”

Casey remained silent to his plea. “I guess I’ll go help Banks get the rafts ready.”

Novacek turned to his team leaders, “Franklin, recall all the watches. We’re moving out and get me a report on Phillip, let me know if he is still alive.”

“What was that thing, sir?” asked a voice in the crowd who had gathered round him.

“It was the Wild Beast,” answered Cardin, who was standing nearby. “You know, from the bible. Seven heads, ten horns. It’s the Devil that we’re fighting!”

To those that were standing nearby and overheard Cardin’s comment, Novacek countered, “I know the description fits, but let’s refer to it as a dragon, understood? Whatever Enlil is, he isn’t the Devil. It’s just a guise he uses to instill fear. The rifles were hurting him. That’s why he left and that is why he took the boy. He showed us that he’s vulnerable.”

“Sir? From the beginning you knew it was a trick, how?” asked Stratton.

Novacek shook his head. “I was never sure. It was just a feeling. It wasn’t logical that they’d had a change of heart. Genocide of a species isn’t something to be taken so lightly, that you can simply change your mind.”

“When you put it that way …”

“We all wanted to believe him, Stratt. We all wanted to believe,” Novacek said comfortingly.

“Where’s the Commander?” Shouted a runner as he entered the cavern from outside. As someone pointed him toward Novacek, “A ship picked Enlil and the Admiral’s son up at the edge of the forest. It’s hovering just out of range. We believe he must have given the order for them to prep to attack, they’re spreading out, forming a thick line. There are thousands, sir. Thousands.”

“Thanks.” For only the second time in his life, Novacek said a prayer to God, unsure if there was even a God to hear his words. No atheists in foxholes, he thought to himself.

“Stratton, take charge of the crew. Take them down the river. If it isn’t in the rafts in ten minutes, leave it! Once you head out, take the river’s first fork to the right. It leads to safety, don’t miss it!”

“On the map, that route doesn’t go anywhere!”

“Take my word for it. It’s the route to safety! I just don’t have the time to explain. You now have nine minutes, Stratt. Get out of here and don’t miss that fork!”

“We’ll leave a raft for you,” said Stratt.

Novacek shook his head. “Take them all. You’ll need every one of them. I’m staying. I’ll buy you the time you need to get away. Now get going.”

Stratton nodded grudgingly, angry that he would be leaving his friend behind. “Martin is dying, sir. That damned creature gored him. He won’t survive more than an hour or two.”

“Is he conscious?” asked Novacek.

“Barely, but yes,” said Stratton.

“Then, have him carried outside, we’ll die together. I’m going to detonate all the cores.”

Stratton’s eyes grew large. “That’ll bring the whole mountain down.”

“Yup—seven minutes, Stratt. Go now!”

Outside, Novacek, laid out the Cores.

It wasn’t but a moment before two of the crew arrived, carrying Martin on a stretcher.

“Set him, here, next to me.” The crew set Martin gently down beside Novacek. Each of them took a moment to squeeze Martin’s hand, saying goodbye to their friend. With a glance at Novacek, they silently asked if there were anything else he needed. With a shake of his head and a smile, they departed, disappearing into the tunnel.

“Hi Martin. I uh—I could use a little company—it would be nice to have someone to talk to. We can buy some time for the others to escape.”

Martin understood Novacek, clearly.

Martin looked over at the cores. “Our lives won’t come cheap.” Martin smiled, his white teeth gleaming bright against his dark skin. “The cores will take everything out within ten klicks! Maybe more.

Is the boy safe?” asked Martin.

“I don’t know. Maybe a quick death is preferable to what that thing has planned for him.” Novacek’s icy stare froze the blood in Martin’s veins.

“You ever see the movie, Zulu, sir?”

“No, but I think I get the drift! How did it end?”

“The attacking forces gave up, out of respect! Think they’ll ever make a movie about us?”

“Like the world needs another remake,” said Novacek with a hint of a laugh. “Ready?”

“Yup,” As Novacek punched in the code to overload the cores, a small, enemy transport ship screamed away into the horizon, vacating the area.

Novacek wondered, hoped, that Phillip was aboard it. “Martin?” the eyes of the two men locked in resignation as his finger hovered over the last number to be entered.

“Aye, sir. My African ancestors will be proud of the fight we have given them, as yours will be!” Martin’s calm tone sent an eerie chill up Novacek’s spine.

“It was an honor my friend!”

Chapter 18

Out of easy earshot from camp, they were brought to a halt—Ashlyn abruptly said into Steven’s mind, “Take the one behind you, to your right, now!”

Steven spun, his right hand deflecting the point of the guard’s gun off to the side and down, as his left elbow gave a smashing blow to the center of the Gray’s face. The loud sound of crunching bone and cartilage heard, as his face caved in. In a single, pivoting motion, Steven took the gun out of his hand and did a diving, rolling somersault, directly at the nearest guard.

A laser pulse skimmed his boot. Steven launched himself into the air, getting off at least eight shots before his feet hit the ground. The Gray in his sight fell backwards, at least one of his eyes, exploded.

As Steven whirled to locate Ashlyn, he saw that she had her Gray by the throat in an arm lock. Holding him high, off the ground, Ashlyn was using him as a cover shield. The fourth Gray was trying to get a shot at her without killing one of his own, but the short lanky Gray within her arms was putting up a good fight, and she was just barely managing to keep the squirming figure between them.

Steven dropped the Gray with the rifle where he stood, putting a pulse directly through his skull. Ash then twisted the neck of the one within her arms, letting him sink to the ground.

Ashlyn walked over and stepped on the neck of the still breathing, but unconscious guard with the smashed in face. “That’s for the whipping you bastard.”

Steven swallowed, shocked at the anger in her voice. He had not given consideration to the residual, emotional toll the beating must have taken on her. How Ashlyn could tell which one had whipped her, he had no idea.

“Quick, grab a weapon and one of the pouched bandoliers. We need to get out of here. I’m sure the other guards heard the shots.”

“What about Brummon?” Ashlyn asked.

Responding to her in his mind, “Ash, use the meld to talk. Our voices will carry for kilometers out here. Brummon will have to wait. There are too many of them. We’ll keep heading toward the pyramid, same place the Grays are taking the caravan. We’ll get Brummon there.”

Each of them grabbed a pulse rifle, and putting an arm through the bandolier, slipped it over their head.

With a quick glance between them, confirming they were ready, they darted off into the darkness.

A kilometer later, Steven starting to feel secure in their escape, he was desperate for water. Pulling out the alien’s water gourd, he took a sip—instantly spatting it out, “Saltwater!”

Continuing on, Steven looked up at the stars. Adjusting his course, he turned, southwest. “We’ll travel ‘til dawn, put some distance between us, in case they decide to follow us at daybreak.

They’ll be forced to go slow, keeping the slaves moving, so if they do come after us, at best they couldn’t spare more than three or four. They may not even try.”

Again searching through the pouches on the bandolier, Steven found the guard’s food pouch. He removed what appeared to be a piece of meat, similar to that of beef jerky. Nibbling at a corner, he found that it had a distinct, teriyaki-like flavor. The moisture it provided, pacifying. “I think it’s Uttu meat.”

Ashlyn, rummaging thru her pouches found a small piece of oily cloth wrapped around something. Unfolding it, she discovered a necklace inside. The pendant on the necklace was actually a piece of green, brightly glowing moss. “It’s the same moss we found in the river tunnel. The oil in the cloth must activate a light-giving ability.”

Steven began looking through his pouches to see if he had one. He found it quickly. It was about three inches in length and a half-inch thick.

Ash held it up. It illuminated a six-foot circle around her. Its eerie light magically transformed her angelic face into that of a ghoulish, green goblin. “Boo-ooo-ooo,” said Ash with a playful, warbled voice.

Her playfulness was so cute that Steven’s spirits instantly soared. “You’re adorable, Ash—but that thing is like a beacon out here. The Grays don’t seem to need as much light as we do. To them, that’s probably like waving a floodlight,” said Steven.

“Grinch.”

While walking, Steven decided to teach Ashlyn how to navigate using the stars. After a thorough explanation on the mechanics of star guidance, Ash repeated back what he’d told her. She was a quick study and Steven had never suspected that the skill would someday come in handy.

Steven had become as comfortable speaking in the meld as he was using the spoken word. His biggest challenge had been to learn how to discipline his thoughts. He took pride in the fact that he was no longer inundating her with the ramblings of the male mind.

Ashlyn let him revel in his victory, not letting on about the flood of titillating thoughts that were escaping him, sneaking through the veil, moment by moment. He had put her on a pedestal and she liked it. She found his desire for her intoxicating, flattering.

The pedestal, upon which he had placed her however, was no taller, than the one upon which she’d placed him.

Steven and Ashlyn each downed two large pieces of jerky, ridding themselves of days of gnawing hunger.

They walked throughout the night, stopping an hour after sunrise beneath the shady cornice of a large dune.

Lying there, their days of torture and exhaustion overwhelmed them.

“I love you, Steven.”

“You are my life, Ashlyn—now and forever,” he returned.

Within moments, they were asleep. Ashlyn’s head lay atop his shoulder, her hand atop his chest. They had been through so much—and it finally caught up with them.

Steven’s sleep was nightmarish; his dreams were of Ashlyn being beaten. It replayed repeatedly, an endless loop of tortured images mixed with his seething rage. His mind tore at the Grays, tearing them limb from limb by the thousands.

He awakened at sunset, to the sound of soft hammering. His eyes opened to find Ashlyn staring at him, a smile on her face. Her beauty shone as the sun and his heart leapt with joy, an acknowledgement that his nightmare was over.

Ashlyn stepped aside and with a bow, she offered him a small spring of water.

“How?” He said rising and heading to her.

“While you were sleeping I found the little hammering stone in one of the pouches. It didn’t make sense that they’d carry the stone and not the straw. I found it hidden inside a small tube that runs the length of the belt.” With a giggle, “It reminds me of you, hard when held erect and being hammered, but pliable enough to bend with the curves.”

Steven laughed at her comment. “I guess we should have realized the Grays would all carry one. We just missed it in the dark.”

“By the way, there’s no Igigi trailing us. You can see for a good ten klicks from the top of the dune. It’s clear,” said Ash. “I guess they decided not to go after us.”

Steven knelt to drink. Like a fish, he gulped heartily. As the water squirted into his mouth, and against his palate, Ashlyn teased him. “That’s what it feels like when I’m going down on you. It just keeps squirting. Feels good, huh? I like how it tickles.”

He had to look up at her and smile. Shaking his head, “I’ve created a monster.”

“Yes, but I’m your monster.”

Steven laughed. When he was done, “Aren’t you going to drink?” asked Steven, realizing that from the moment he’d heard her hammering the straw into the ground, that he had not seen her drink.

“From that little thing?” Taking him by the hand, in her playful Draculean voice, “Come with me, cause I vant to suck your dick.” Looking down at his cock. Slowly, with emphasis, still in her Bela Lugosi voice, “I’m going to suck you and your two little friends, sooo hard.”

He was already erect in response to titillating words. She led him back into the shade of the dune.

“We have seven hours ‘til sunrise,” said Ash. She let the words sink in before she continued, “Let’s stay here tonight, wait until morning to start walking. We both need the rest. I’m not sure why, but somehow, sex strengthens me. It’ll be good for me, for you.”

As she bid him to lie down, Ashlyn positioned herself atop him. Sitting upright, she straddled his hips. Leaning forward, she buried her face in his neck and just by chance, found a spot behind the lobe of his right ear that as she wiggled her tongue, it created a strong, tickling sensation in his lower back.

“Hmm, you like that!” she said, feeling his back arch, and his chest tighten. Instantly, he began throbbing, his cock thick between the swells of her pussy. “Wow, you really like that!” She felt giddy, knowing she had discovered an exploitable secret. “You’re like my own personal boy toy!”

As she slid down his chest, and brought him to her lips, “I’m such a lucky girl.”

***

Seven hours later, their needs satiated, their hearts content, they were again underway.

They traveled fast, taking advantage of their renewed strength. Conversation was kept to a minimum as they put all their efforts into covering distance.

As day turned into night and they trekked on, Ash spotted three craft heading at high speed to the North, likely toward Sinai, the mountain refuge. They hoped that Phillip and the others were safe.

As the ships disappeared beyond the horizon, they felt a thunderous, pounding vibration beneath their feet. “The Uttu,” Steven whispered, sheer habit making him use his human voice.

A minute later, it was gone, having ebbed away behind them.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” reminded Steven.

“I guess that means no more screaming during sex?” said Ashlyn back to him in the meld.

“Yeah, you can’t do that anymore,” said Steven.

“I was talking about you,” said Ashlyn with a small laugh.

An hour later, Steven staring heavenward, checking his course by the stars, tumbled head over heels into a deep abyss. On the long, slide down; as he fought not to lose his gun and gear, he was only vaguely aware of Ashlyn’s frantic scream to him within the meld. “Steven, are you all right?”

The tunnel leveled out, bringing him to a stop in total darkness. “Yeah, I’m covered in their slimy lubricant. It’s part of the Uttu’s tunneling process. It’s no wonder they need such vast amounts of water, they must burn through it like a steam locomotive. I’m just glad they aren’t excreting acid.”

They can probably turn the acid on and off as needed, Steven thought to himself. Depending on the type of strata they are burrowing through.

“Do you think you can climb out?” Ashlyn asked, hopeful.

“I can try. It was almost a free-fall at the top.” In trying to stand, he found that the ceiling was too low to do so.

“Steven, try using the moss,” said Ashlyn.

Donning the necklace, Steven’s eyes soon adjusted, and he could see the sand walls around him.

Forced to hunch, he began to climb up. He’d not gone more than twenty paces before his ascent up the tunnel was so steep, that each new step was threatening to send him sliding back to the bottom again. It was like trying to walk up a mountain of ice.

“You know, Ash—I think the slime is the only thing keeping the tunnel from collapsing.” Two minutes later, Steven knew he was stuck. Every step forwards took him one or more backwards.

“You can’t make it?”

“No.” Silence, nothing but sterile silence. “Ash?” No reply came. “Ash, where are you? Ash?” Seconds passed. “Ash!” A rumble shook the ground for a few seconds, before fading away.

“I’m here Steven, I’m here.” Her voice was hurried and alarmed.

“What happened?”

“One of the Uttu was sitting next to me. I didn’t even know it was there until I heard a faint snort, and when I looked over, the damned thing was sniffing the air. It was so close I could have touched it with the rifle. Then suddenly—just when I thought it had detected me, it turned round and left. And wow, can that thing move.

By the way, the desert looks like a putting green up here, there are holes everywhere.”

“Ash—quiet for a moment.” He listened, straining to hear. “Do you hear it—the thrumming. It’s the Igigi. They’re tracking us. It was their sonic device that scared the Uttu away from you.”

“You sure. I don’t hear it!”

“The tunnel must be amplifying it.”

“Then we need to get you out, Steven—fast.”

He thought for a moment, “You know, if there’s a lot of Uttu running around, their tunnels might intersect. With a bit of luck, I might find one that’s not as steep.”

“Or, you might get yourself hopelessly lost?”

“Me? I’ve got the directional sense of a snail.”

“A snail?” she said with a hint of a laugh.

“Yup, you ever see one that was lost?”

“They all look like they are lost!” retorted Ash.

“All right, Ash. I’m starting back down the tunnel. I’ll follow the left wall, making all left turns. Eventually, it should lead to an exit.”

“Steven, please be careful. Remember, you may not be alone down there.”

“Got ya!”

Minutes later he began to feel the vibration again. It was closer this time, much closer, but there was something different about it.

When his feet began tingling, he knew what was happening. One of the Uttu was coming toward him. In the darkness, the vibration seemed to surround him. Sand began to loosen and fall in small clumps from the ceiling.

“Steven, what is it?”

“There’s an Uttu in the tunnel—it’s coming—fast!”

“Fire the rifle, Steven. Fire now!”

“The vibration might bring the ceiling down.”

“Fire—fire, now!” Ash cried out.

He un-slung the rifle from his shoulder, and took a knee. By the time he activated the energy cell, he could see the dim red eyes of the spider in the tunnel moving rapidly toward him.

A few clumps of sand gave way in the ceiling under the shrill, resonant vibration of the lasers powered up hum. He sent four shots down the tunnel, which brought down a large batch of sand atop his shoulders.

With the visual effect of a strobe light, each burst brought the creature closer, as did each burst slow its pace. The Uttu let out a long, blood-curdling shriek that seemed to echo forever, following it with a bellowing roar. The creature seemed madly determined to make him pay for his intrusion.

Their armor is crazy hard.

A shudder ran up Steven’s spine as he realized that in the world of the Uttu, he was the invader. He felt a twinge of sadness over the irony.

Steven, the glow from the moss illuminating him, raised his weapon into the air, holding it at arm’s length before him. A gesture of surrender.

The Uttu slowed to a stop and looked at him. What the Uttu thought of him, no one would ever know, but Steven understood that the Uttu was merely protecting his home. The two of them seemed to share a small moment.

The Uttu then gave a huff and a bellowing roar.

“Steven, what’s happening?” Ash called out, as she felt the emotional rush of his sadness surging within him.

So caught up in the moment was he, that he didn’t hear her. Slowly lowering the weapon, he placed it on the ground, letting go of it.

“Steven, what’s wrong?—Talk to me!”

“Hold on a sec.” Steven wasn’t sure if the Uttu was capable of understanding his actions—but he was listening to his heart.

The Uttu bellowed an acknowledgment of Steven’s submission.

Then, slowly, the Uttu moved forward, coming to a stop in front of him. The Uttu extended a single, slimy leg toward him. It hovered a moment, then touched Steven on the top of his head—after a long moment, in a quick motion that startled Steven, the Uttu retracted its leg and rolling over upon itself, headed back in the direction from which it had come.

The Uttu’s quick movement however, was the final straw needed to bring the tunnel down. Steven turned quickly trying to scramble away, but it was too late. He’d only taken a single stride before the ceiling completely gave way, entrapping him. With his last free movement, Steven fought to form a small air pocket around his head.

“Ash! The ceiling collapsed atop me!”

“Ok, I’m coming down!” Slipping the luminescent necklace round her neck, she peered over the edge of the hole.

Not four meters away, was the large, red, glowing eyes of the Uttu Steven had seen. It came racing up out of the hole—Ashlyn jumping out of the way, just in time. That was close. Jumping in, she took a long, controlled slide to the bottom. “Hold on—I’m on my way!” Her voice was assuring, confident. Moving quickly, “Keep talking to me!”

“The weight is crushing me. I can’t expand my lungs.”

“Don’t stop talking to me, don’t stop!”

“Can’t breathe!”

***

“Sir?”

Novacek’s thumb eased off the last button.

“The crew needs you. Yours was the only voice of reason against that monster. I can do this! You go with the others!”

Novacek searched for the words that would keep him from abandoning his friend.

“It’s all right, sir. I don’t feel the pain. I’ll give you to the count of 10!” He put his hand out, his trembling fingers asking Novacek to place his finger atop the last button.

“You’ve got the courage of a lion, Martin. You’ll run again. You’ll run at your ancestor’s side as they honor you for your bravery.”

“Thank you, sir—but, I’m not a brave man. I’m just a man with nothing left to lose. The others need you.” Martin’s free hand slowly pulled the blaster from his holster. “Go, 10—9—please, sir. Go.”

Novacek turned and hobbled away as fast as his broken body would allow. From inside, Novacek heard Martin’s fading voice, “I damn all of you monsters to hell!”

Novacek then heard Martin’s blaster sealing off his tunnel. The ear-shattering roar of the collapsing tunnel behind him was only a second ahead of the billowing dust and dirt that came shooting down the tunnel, engulfing him. With a single breath of clean air in his lungs, he struggled to make his way back inside the cavern.

A moment later, the energy cores’ concussion tore the world apart.

It threw him to the ground. The slipknot round Novacek’s wrist to the flashlight broke, sending the flashlight skittering away. He scrambled to retrieve it. Stumbling on, unsure of where he was, he kept moving forward until he fell face first into the river. All around him, he could hear splashes in the water as the cavern itself began to collapse.

Floating with the current, Novacek swam through the hole exiting the cavern, carried by the fast, moving water down the dark tunnel.

His clothes felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds, and he struggled to remove them, even as he was tossed against the walls. Somehow, he seemed to find each boulder that lay in his path.

Stripped down to his boxers, flashlight in hand, he swam.

***

“I think I found you—the tunnel is collapsed here!

Steven?—Steven, answer me!” Nothing. She could feel that he was alive, but unconscious.

Ash tore at the sand, frantically scooping it away. As she dug, tears fell from her chin. A moment later, she found his feet. Two minutes later, she pulled him out.

Verifying that his airway was clear, Ash started to give him mouth to mouth.

When he gasped, coughing, “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Ash said tearfully.

Through continuing coughs, he replied, “You don’t want to have sex anymore?”

She punched his arm and then just as quickly gave him a gigantic hug.

Grabbing each other, they embraced tightly. With melded minds, they held one another, reveling in the one, small victory.

Her lips carried a sweetness, that for a brief moment, Steven thought he’d never taste again.

“Listen? Do you hear it?” Once again, they heard the thrumming vibration of the Grays’ sonic device. “They followed our trail to the hole!” said Steven.

“Maybe they’ll think we’re dead?” whispered Ashlyn.

Steven hoped she was right. They waited, not daring to make any movement. Even breathing felt like a salient signal that might give them away. It was near twenty minutes, silence filling the air, before they began digging their way through to the other side of the tunnel. They followed Steven’s plan, following the left cavern wall of the tunnel.

Half an hour later, they found the divergence they were looking for. The slime on the new tunnel was older and had hardened. It made for a much firmer and faster walk, though Steven still wished the tunnel were taller so that they could stand upright.

It wasn’t long before the tunnel soon started to gently slope upwards. They were soon scrambling, their clawing fingers fighting for every inch of ground up the ever-steepening surface. For every step forwards, they lost a half step backwards, and even a momentary stop meant losing several steps. It was a do or die fight.

Steven had let Ashlyn lead the way, her lighter weight creating less damage to the dried, crusty slime—than did Steven’s muscular, heavier frame.

“Ash, don’t stop, but if you look up, you can see stars ahead.”

The twinkling rays of hope refreshed their efforts. Five minutes later as Ash neared the top, with one, great shove from Steven, she hefted herself up and over the small ridge that encircled the hole.

In doing so, Steven had sacrificed several, hard earned steps. Physically exhausted, Steven reached deep inside himself, hoping to tap into the massive stores of adrenaline his mind was capable of releasing. Like a sprinter near the finish line who had saved his final kick, Steven surged ahead, grabbing Ashlyn’s outstretched hand. Ashlyn pulled with everything she had, and together, they flopped onto their backs like landed fish.

Their energy expended, their lungs aching from exertion, they lay side-by-side in silence.

“Stand hum’ns!” said a voice behind them. The Igigi patrol had found them. Slowly they turned round to face their captors.

Suddenly, all of them felt the familiar vibration of an Uttu moving beneath them. The three Grays looked down and found that the sand was churning round their feet. Before they could think to move, they began sinking into the desert floor, swallowed alive. Steven and Ashlyn slowly lowered their hands. In astonishment, they stared at the spot where the patrol had been standing.

“I think you made a friend!” said Ashlyn.

Steven smiled. “Maybe. I think the Uttu may have a bit of telepathy. That would explain how they could find the hiding humans on Earth so easily.

When I was in the tunnel, the Uttu touched my head. I think it learned that I didn’t want to hurt it.”

“Seems like they aren’t very fond of the Grays,” said Ashlyn, rising to her feet.

They’d walked for no more than an hour, the sky just beginning to lighten, when they saw a small hill made entirely of jumbled boulders a kilometer ahead. It offered all the shade they could ask for. They spent the day conserving energy, sleeping and talking in the meld.

Two more days passed where they walked at night, and rested by day. Late night on the second day as they came to a rise—ahead of them was a beautiful oasis.

Over what must have been tens of thousands of years, the river had carved out a large, inviting pool in the solid rock foundation, thirty meters across. Even in the waning, silvery light of the three, setting moons, its great beauty was enhanced by the white spray from its waterfall that shown like a beacon. The few scattered palms and shrubs were swaying gently to a light breeze.

As Steven’s pace picked up, hurrying toward it, “Careful Steven. There’s probably Uttu here,” said Ash, worriedly.

“I don’t think so. Look around, no holes. It’s fresh water,” said Steven. “The Uttu don’t like it. They may be drawn to the moisture initially, but once they find out it’s not salty, they leave.”

“In that case, last one in is a dirty rotten Gray,” challenged Ash as she darted ahead.

Unzipping their boots, and dropping their pouched, bandolier belt—they ran, making a mad dash for the inviting water. Dropping their guns at the water’s edge, they dove in, head first.

They swam and drank until their bellies were full.

The sand that had been clinging to them for days fell away. Steven was helpless but to watch as Ashlyn splashed water on herself, wiping away the stubborn remnants of sand from her wobbling breasts. Then, dipping herself several times, she rinsed her hair, finally sweeping it back behind her ears.

When she saw that he was watching her, Ashlyn splashed him teasingly, laughing and almost giggling like a teenage girl, playfully backed away from him, taunting him to catch her.

Giving chase, he tackled her in the waist deep water. The smile upon his face couldn’t have been wider as he picked her up and threw her kicking and screaming into the deeper, middle. She rose from the water like a mermaid in a seaman’s fantasy, his eyes tracing the trickling streams of water that were running down her shoulders, round her breasts and back into the pond.

Ashlyn then swam away, toward the waterfall, soon disappearing behind it. They were like kids with their own private swimming hole.

Through the sheet of water, her hand appeared, and with a single, beckoning middle finger, she called him. No swimming hole had ever held such promise.

By the time he waded out to her, he was desirously, swollen. As he passed through the smooth wall of water, he found Ashlyn crouched, the heavy underswells of her breasts bobbing atop the water.

His cock was erect, standing upright out of the water. It was swaying—stirring against her sternum.

The look in Steven’s eyes left no room for doubt, about what he wanted.

Grabbing the base of his shaft, she swished him back and forth between her breasts, rubbing him against her.

Steven gasped as she used the head of his shaft to erotically, push her nipples around, bending them over.

As Ashlyn began slapping him against her breasts, Steven shared his thoughts with her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of doing this Ash, no idea.”

Smiling, “Oh, yes I do—eighty-two to be exact.”

As his chest heaved in agreement, his cock swollen with desire—she laid him between her water-slickened breasts. Her hands squished her breasts together, covering him. Locked deep in her tight cleavage, he began to undulate, sliding his shaft between her slippery breasts. The image of the jiggling ripples escaping Ashlyn’s grasp, entranced him.

He moved slowly—lingering each time the tip of his cock rose into the air and into Ashlyn’s open mouth. Each time she engulfed him, her tongue teased him. It was painfully erotic and powerfully intense.

It wasn’t long before his need had grown desperate, and he began thrusting faster. Ashlyn’s grip round her breasts tightened, applying more pressure to him. Each rapid thrust ended with him pressed against the hollow of soft skin above her collarbones.

With a heavy grunt, he thrust hard, exploding all over her neck. With each successive thrust, Ashlyn let him bask, reveling in each release until he was done.

As a dozen trails of his seed trickled down her neck, falling atop her breasts, her hands gathered it, applying it like it were lotion. She spread it sensually, each caressing stroke from her fingers designed to inflame his passion. The sheen of his seed upon her breasts glistened—her nipples, silky, glossy.

Steven swallowed—his eyes not wanting to blink.

Ashlyn’s passions were ablaze, stimulated by the sweet smell of his seed on her skin. Taking the tip of her index finger, she lifted a few drops that had collected atop a nipple, putting them into her mouth—sucking them off with her tongue, she showed him how erotically strong her craving was.

Lifting him to her lips, she took him inside, where she began to suck.

With his hands coddling her head; her nose pressed tight to him, he orgasmed, long and hard.

As her powerful throat muscles continued sucking him, he marveled at the contrast of the cool water pounding against his back, his cock deep in her hot throat. It caused an exhilaration that was unequalled.

With the suns dropping low on the horizon, their time nearing an end, Ashlyn wanted her own orgasm.

Lifting her so that she was sitting atop a boulder, she leaned back. Her feet found a spot to rest atop two smooth boulders just below the surface. With her knees spread wide. She reached out and took his hand, guiding it between her thighs. His fingers touched her clit—it hardened in response. Tenderly stroking her, a finger occasionally threatening to go inside her, she grew ready.

Her hands rose to his shoulders where she pressed him down, silently asking him to kneel.

With his knees upon the soft sand, he leaned forward. Ashlyn lifted her legs from the water, putting them atop his shoulders.

As Steven’s tongue found her, with his left hand, he reached up, round the outside of her leg and seized her right breast, tightly. Ashlyn shuddered.

His tongue lapped her, circled her. He tauntingly licked the insides of her spread lips. Her breathing was heavy, her body jumping to each wagging stroke. With his right hand, he gently took two fingers and began prodding her. She screamed shrilly as he slid them inside.

To each stroke of his tongue upon her clit, his fingers moving back and forth, inside her, his left hand erotically clasping and unclasping her breast, Ashlyn screamed. He could feel her pulsating muscles at work, encouraging his fingers to go faster.

Between ragged screams, he found room to squeeze a third finger inside her. In response, her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling his tongue closer, encouraging him to lick her clit, harder.

She’s so damned tight—how does she fit my cock inside, thought Steven to himself.

“Faster, harder,” Ash cried.

With just a few more strokes, suddenly, Ashlyn snapped her head back, her back arched, her stomach tightened, her thighs clamping down hard upon his ears. She screamed long and loud—gasping breaths with soft sighs followed.

His tongue stopped wiggling, but stayed pressed against her clit. His fingers pushed deep, staying there until he could feel the muscles inside her relaxing, and the grip upon his ears, releasing him.

“Oh my god—that was sooo amazing!” said Ash, her ragged breath barely able to spit out the words.

Steven stood, revealing his erection.

Her passion had inspired his own. All his orgasms of the day, had been between her breasts or inside her throat. He was desirous of having one the traditional way. Ashlyn, who had not yet moved, was sitting atop the rocks, recovering. Seeing his readiness, she spread her legs.

Steven took a step forward, the sand beneath his feet oozing between his toes. His lips went to the hollow of her neck. With her hard goosebumped, puckered nipples pressing into his chest, his hands went round to her bottom, pulling her to him.

His cock pushed deep between the lips of her pussy. He could feel her clit against the tip of his shaft. Moving a bit lower, he placed his cock at her entrance and with a single push, he went deep inside her.

Ash screamed out, loudly.

Her passion aroused, her muscles began massaging him—but he also knew that this was his moment and she had no needful expectations. Her clawing nails and heated breath upon his neck was all the encouragement he needed.

Pushing faster, harder, deeper, he began throbbing, building up for his release. Under Ashlyn’s finesse, it came quickly. Thrusting furiously hard—he gushed inside her. Her arms stayed locked round his neck; reassuring him, that it was all right to stay inside, thrusting until he was ready to be done.

Chapter 19

Every muscle was aching, constricting painfully and urging him to give up. Novacek had to fight against the banshees that tormented his every thought. His legs were numb, his chest heavy with hypothermia. In the end, it was Martin’s sacrifice, which gave him strength.

While clinging to a rock to rest, Novacek made the mistake of setting his flashlight down. He’d no sooner let it go, when it rolled off the rock to be lost somewhere in the dark depths.

He reprimanded himself for being so foolish. Calling out, he made a last desperate attempt to be heard. From somewhere ahead, he heard a faint reply. Unsure if it was his own echoing voice, he called out again, straining to listen. There was an echo, but from somewhere beyond it, he heard a faint reply.

Letting go of the rock, he floated downstream.

***

With the suns rising, Steven and Ashlyn retrieved their gear, and headed out, continuing southwest.

They traveled throughout the day, never stopping. They rejoiced over having had their thirst quenched and the many hours of amazing sex. In the early evening, as they took a short break, Ashlyn’s body arched, stiffening. She screamed out, as though she were in mortal pain.

***

“Extract the genetic materials and parts you need, then throw him into the bowl. Be sure he doesn’t die, they don’t taste good when they’re dead.”

The guard, to whom Enlil had spoken, leaned over, getting very close. When he exhaled, Phillip gagged. The alien’s warm, moist breath stank like rotten seaweed.

That was the moment when Phillip’s eyes went wide with terror. In the Gray’s hand was a syringe with a long needle. Phillip tried to scream, but couldn’t. “Dad! Please help me!”

Above him, a machine with a bright light was moving closer.

“Noooo!” Phillip screamed. “Please, no!”

The machine settled, resting on his forehead and chin. He heard a high-pitched hum, as in the center of the machine; a three-prong claw came toward him. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see or know what was going to happen.

Screaming in pain—the claw flared the nostrils of his nose, and inserted something. The pain was intense. Tears dripped from the corners of his eyes. He could feel something moving inside him, burrowing into his brain.

“I want my Dad!” Again, the stinging pain. He struggled to free his hands, his wrists hurt. Then he felt the sting of a needle as it went into his- “Stop, it hurts!”

He was afraid as never before and he wet his pants.

His wide, terror filled eyes caught a blur of movement to his right. He strained to look, but his head was locked in place. A Gray came to the side of the table, carrying a tray of surgical tools.

“Please, don’t hurt me!”

Then he heard the noise of a saw, whirring. He trembled, not knowing what was coming.

He screamed viciously as the saw cut into him.

***

“Ash, what’s wrong? Ash?”

She seemed lost to the terror, to the pain. Her breath was sparse and labored, she shook uncontrollably, her back arched again, racked by pain.

“Dad, help me!” she screamed out between clenched teeth. Her skin was white. Her eyes dripped tears.

Steven slapped her face, “Wake up Ash, wake up!” His slap seemed to rouse her slightly, almost bringing her back. Slapping her twice more, as he screamed her name, her distant eyes finally focused on Steven’s face. In her deep, frozen eyes, Steven saw that something was horribly wrong!

“It’s Phillip, Steven! Enlil has him. They are torturing him.”

A cold chill raced through Steven. His jaw clenched, and he rose to his feet. “How Ash? How do you know?”

“I’m not sure! I can hear his screams. He’s calling out to you. He’s in horrible pain, Steven. Horrible!”

“Ash, there must be some way you can let me see him? I’ve got to see him. I’ve got to.”

“It’s bad, Steven! Very bad!”

“Can you?”

Sitting cross-legged upon the sand, their minds melded. He waited, watching the scene unfold, as Ashlyn’s consciousness reached out, searching through a dark void for Phillip’s mind. From some faraway place as if Phillip were calling to him from across a vast chasm, Steven heard Phillip’s screams. His plaintive, anguished cry tormented Steven’s soul. Steven’s heart was near to bursting.

“Ash, I need to see him!”

Her concentration deepened and focused upon a distant, tiny spot of light that stood like the candle of a lighthouse in the surrounding darkness. In a single heartbeat, they raced toward it, entering Phillip’s mind. Steven could now see, hear and feel everything.

The pain froze him.

“No! Please, don’t cut—it hurts—it hurts.

Dad, help me. You can’t be dead, you can’t be! You’ve got to help me, Dad!

I’ll kill you all! I swear, I’ll kill you! No more cutting, please, no more! Kill me. Just kill me. Kill me.”

“Ash, there must be something we can do?” With Steven’s words, the meld disintegrated and they were returned to their own surroundings.

“Ash? There must be something we can do? There has to be!”

“Perhaps—but you can’t go with me. I can’t support both of us from this distance.” A nod from Steven and she straightened her posture, refocusing. In typical Zen fashion, Ashlyn closed her eyes. Her breathing grew deep and her brow furrowed. Within seconds, she was again lost into her netherworld of darkness.

***

“My Dad will kill you all!”

More pain. More whirring.

“No don’t-”

“Phillip, it’s me Ashlyn. I’m here with you. I’m going to help you. I want you to follow my voice. Your father is waiting to see you, just follow my voice.”

“Dad’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive. He’s here with me. He wants to hold you. Come-on Phillip, follow my voice.”

“I knew he was alive, I knew it! But Ashlyn, how come I can’t see you?” Again the pain. “My Dad’s going to kill you!”

“Phillip, we need to leave this place. Keep walking towards my voice. That’s it, come on. You’re almost there.”

“I think I can see you, Ashlyn. But, where are we?”

“Come toward my voice. Come into the garden that your Dad and I found. It’s called Eden. We have food and water here, and even a small, warm river if you want to go for a swim. Come-on, follow my voice into the center of the garden. Your Dad is waiting to see you!”

Ashlyn led his mind into a place where they couldn’t hurt him anymore—a place where he could be free. “That’s right, your Dad and I are waiting for you. Come on Phillip, it’s this way.”

He followed her into the picture her mind had placed in his subconscious. He followed her into the garden. Its stream begged to be jumped. Its trees asked to be climbed. Most importantly, his father stood waiting, a smile on his face, his arms wide, wanting for a hug. He ran to his father with more joy than he’d ever felt before.

“Stay here, Phillip. Stay with your father, until I return. Don’t leave the garden, it’s painful outside. You’ll be safe here. Do you see the large wall? It will protect you. The pain can’t come here. Only your father and I can be here with you. No one else but us, all right?”

“I won’t leave. Dad and I are going to go fishing, aren’t we Dad?”

“That’s right son, we’ll catch a big one.”

“That’s good, Phillip. You stay here with your father. I’ll be back soon, very soon—and Phillip?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you!”

“I love you too, Ash.”

They waved goodbye as their minds separated.

Ash awoke gasping for air, her muscles convulsing from the pain she had felt in the meld.

Holding Ashlyn tight, her trembling hands and damp cold skin, told Steven how intense it had been, “Ash? Are you okay? What happened?”

“I led his mind into a place of hiding. They won’t be able to hurt him anymore. He’s your son all right. He has a strong will—very strong. He was resisting, telling them that you were going to kill them all. He’s has incredible strength of mind.”

“But what were they doing to him? Did you see?”

Her long pause, made Steven swallow, “Yeah—I saw.”

“And?” Steven waited. He saw that the words were stuck in her throat.

“They’ve removed his—his reproductive organs.

There is also something burrowing into him, they inserted it through his nose. If I had to guess, I think it’s going to extract a bit of his DNA from the glands in his brain. I don’t think it will damage him, Enlil still wants him—alive.”

“Why?”

“So-”

Seeing her hesitancy, “Why, Ash?”

“So that he can eat him.”

Steven’s limbs went weak and tears filled his eyes. He swore that Enlil’s death would be a painful one.

“I’ve got to get to him, Ash. I’ve got to.”

“We’ve got to.” It was her last words, before fainting.

The strain of Ashlyn’s meld had exhausted her; as did the pain she had endured, weaken her mind. The ordeal had been nearly as hard on her as it was on Phillip. She would need time to heal.

Steven had a thousand, unanswered questions that he wanted to ask her, but he was ever so grateful for what she had done. She had saved Phillip from endless, unbearable pain.

Late that night, when Ash awoke, Steven gave her the last of the meat in their packs, including his portion. Ashlyn needed it more than he did.

Knowing how critical time was, they quickly resumed their journey. Ash tried to answer Steven’s questions as best she could, but in reality, she didn’t know much more about how or why she’d been able to do what she did, than did Steven.

In the end, they chalked it up to the fact that Phillip had inherited enough of Steven’s genes to make the link possible.

Phillip’s demise gave them an urgency that was reflected in their pace. For the next six days, they pushed hard, traveling fast, stopping for only three hours, during the hottest part of the day.

Though severely deprived of food, they remained vibrant and energetic, thanks to the Gifts.

In the early evening on the twelfth night since their escape, they came to a stop atop a small dune. Before them, across a sea of dunes, sat the Great Pyramid, which dwarfed the one on Earth.

The pyramid rose from the ground like a leviathan. Large as it was, it wasn’t until the middle of the second night when they reached the wall surrounding it, that they truly appreciated its magnificence.

As they crept along the base of the thirty-meter high wall, looking for an entrance, they were surprised to see no sign of guards or security.

It was near two hours later, having walked two kilometers along the second side, that they finally found an entrance.

However, as they came to within meters of the massive gate, its large doors swung open. A group of eight humans exited in two single file lines, carrying two stretchers.

“I think they are carrying dead people,” said Steven.

He couldn’t help but wonder if one of them was Phillip.

The group was dressed in small pieces of leather skins, strapped sandals on their feet. Crouching against the wall in shadowed darkness, they watched the small band head out into the desert.

Just as they were entertaining the idea that they could perhaps sneak inside, through the open gate, the gate’s doors swung closed.

“Umm—do you want to follow them?” Ashlyn mentally whispered.

“Yeah, and why are you whispering in the meld?”

“Whispering is sexy—so romantic, like spies discussing a secret mission,” she said, scurrying ahead into the shadows.

Steven took off after her, admiring her verve and bravado and to put it simply, her let’s-get-it-done, attitude. And he had to admit, that hearing her whisper in the meld carried the same effect of feeling her warm breath upon his neck. It was erotically sexy.

Trailing the procession, hanging off to the right side, they used the rises and dips in the terrain to close their distance.

Ashlyn noticed it first—she saw that the sky was getting brighter and that it glowed faintly, orange. There was also a scent of smoke, and—“Do you think that smell is from-” asked Ashlyn.

“It is,” affirmed Steven. “It’s the same smell I remember a few days after the attack, when we went in search of survivors. The material lining of our armor reeked of it.”

The air grew thicker, more nauseating with each step—the sky growing ever brighter. Two kilometers further, the procession stopped at the edge of a ridge. With a coordinated heave, the group unceremoniously threw each of the encased bodies over the edge before simply turning round and heading back.

“What now?” asked Ashlyn.

“Follow me.” Running the last fifty meters to the edge, they looked down upon the graveyard of corpses. The orange-red glow that lit the night sky was caused by volcanic lava; the ground was pitted, cracked and broken. Dozens of huffing and puffing fires spurted, bubbling noisily, slow cooking the corpses that lay strewn atop the soil nearby. It was as unsettling a sight, as the odor was suffocating.

“Gehenna,” said Steven. “The lake of fire and sulpur, where they are tormented day and night forever.”

There was no need for Steven to say more—and Ash had no words to describe the horror of what was before her. It truly was hell.

“If we’re going to enter the city, we’ll need more clothes. Especially you, you’ll stand out like a rabbit thrown into a den of wolves,” said Steven. Not waiting for a reply, he unslung his pack.

Steven knew that compared to the shriveled humans they’d seen thus far, her beauty and vitality were going to be a dead giveaway as to her recent arrival on this world. Although, to be fair, his own chiseled body was going to stand almost as prominently.

His eyes already tearing from the wafting, acrid smoke, “Wait here!” Steven hopped down, making the jump to the bottom, where the most recent bodies had been thrown. What he landed on crunched and softened under foot. It was gushy and his imagination nearly made him retch.

The two they had just heaved over had landed near the top of the pile. Steven picked them out easily, for they were the only ones that were not covered in something akin to a wingless fly. It was the first insect life, Steven had seen on Hades. Under the bright light of the three moons, the flies appeared almost as a single mass, fluidly moving around and over the top of one another.

Steven quickly unrolled the nearest casing. The body went tumbling down to the bottom of the pile as it spilled out of the wrapping. He did the same with the second. As unsettling as it was, he took relief in that neither of them was Phillip, which had been much of his motivation to see who was inside.

Clambering down the pile, each step brought a flood of nauseating sensations. The sounds of crunching bones, squirting fluids and the squishing, oozing sound of pure mush, all worked together to send intensely, powerful images.

Unfortunately, they were both males, one of which was far too thin to make his loin covering usable, but he assumed it might work for Ash. The other man was a bit more squat, rotund, and his would do nicely.

Still in need of a bosom wrap for Ashlyn, Steven hurriedly opened two more swathed corpses before he found a female. Even then, he hesitated as he contemplated removing it. It sickened him to have to touch her badly bloated, gooey, decomposing body. The noxious fumes were a story unto themselves as the odor threatened to render him unconscious. Then came the knockout punch. Under the wrapping, a churning nest of white maggots squirmed in the cavities of what had once been the woman’s breasts.

Shaking the wrapping out, a score of clingy maggots were sent flying into the air. The little fly creatures went wild as they jumped to feed upon the freshly exposed food of their own younger brethren. It was a gagging glimpse of a strange eco-system.

Clambering back to the top, Steven found that it was a bit too far of a jump to the cliff’s rim. In lieu of a ladder, he gathered several of the newer corpses, forming a makeshift set of stairs. He had never in his wildest imagination believed he’d be doing such a thing. When he heard the sound of snapping ribs beneath him, he leapt—just managing to catch Ashlyn’s outstretched hand, she helped him up.

Back atop the cliff, his stomach finally revolted and he retched violently, expelling bile and what little his stomach contained.

“Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” Ashlyn took the wrap, barely managing to get the two ends to meet. “It’s not very big.” Ashlyn managed to tie a tiny knot, but the small size of the wrap had left much of the heavy, underswells of her breasts enticingly exposed.

Wow! “Let’s go,” said Steven, the male part of his mind wanting to do her right there on the spot, Hades be damned.

They started running to catch the returning group, slowing only as they came to within a few meters of them. They felt like a pair of overheated horses that were snorting and gasping for air.

Thankfully, the people in front of them never turned in response. It wasn’t long before they were back at the wall. A wave from the hand of the lead man to some unseen custodian, led to the gate being opened.

Having entered through the gates, the small group of people swung left toward a small building, a barracks. Steven turned round, to see that the gates were closing behind him, seemingly with no one operating them.

“Ash?”

“I’m here.”

“They must be watching us from somewhere. Let’s stay with the group.” Seconds later, Steven was questioning that decision. “Ash, do you see him?”

“Yup, plain as the warts on his face.” Up ahead, just outside the entrance to what looked like a barracks, stood one of the Grays. As the men started to file past him, each was handing him an embossed piece of leather.

“It must be like a pass, giving them permission to leave,” said Ash in response to Steven’s unspoken thoughts. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

“We don’t have much of a choice. When I get to the door, I’ll walk by as though I forgot about my pass. I’ll take out any guards inside; you get the one by the door.”

“Being subtle isn’t one of your strengths is it?” quipped Ash.

“I’m just worried about Phillip. If we get caught, it means his life,” replied Steven.

The man in front of Steven handed his pass to the guard, and stepped inside. Steven quickly stepped in as though he had absentmindedly forgot the protocol.

The next thing Steven knew, he was staring at the ceiling, listening to Ashlyn asking him if he was all right.

“Your place or mine?”

“Yeah, you’re all right!” said Ashlyn.

“What happened to me?”

“The guard hit you. Somehow, he knew before you got past him that you weren’t part of the group.”

Without even needing to ask, Steven knew that she had killed the guard.

Ashlyn was staring at the people in the room. Their fear had forced them to back away; they cowered, huddled against the far wall, hiding their faces. “Does anyone speak English?” Ash asked. A few heads rose but immediately returned to look at the ground once more. From the rear of the crowd, came a small girl with brown eyes and blonde hair, pushing her way through the legs of those around her. Silently, she walked up and took Ashlyn’s hand. With her index finger, she beckoned Ashlyn to lean closer.

“Have you seen my Daddy?” she said whispering.

Sorrow instantly welled in Steven and Ashlyn’s heart. “How old are you, sweetheart?” Ash softly asked her.

“Seven,” her plaintive voice replied.

“Were you born here?” asked Ashlyn.

The little girl nodded.

“Your father—was he from Earth?”

Again, she nodded.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Daddy said she’s in heaven.”

A tear welled in Ashlyn’s eyes. “And what happened to your father?” asked Ashlyn.

“They took him.”

“Why?” asked Ashlyn.

“He killed a guard when they came to take me.”

“Well, we’ll help you look for him,” said Ash, as she pulled her close. “Ok?”

“I miss him,” her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sure he misses you too!” said Ashlyn. The little girl nodded.

Ashlyn said silently to Steven, “He’s dead.”

“I know.” The innocence and heartbreak of the child made them hate Enlil that much more.

“Does anyone else speak English?” Steven asked.

“Not here, no one ever speaks here.”

“Why?” Steven questioned.

“Because he listens,” she said, alluding to the walls.

“Enlil?”

With eyes that went wide with terror, her grip around Ashlyn tightening, she nodded.

In her arms, she held a small wooden doll tightly to her chest. “Did your father make that for you?” asked Ashlyn.

“Yeah, he said it looked like mommy and whenever I held it, mommy would know I loved her. Is my mommy safe in heaven?”

“Yes, your mommy is safe in heaven.”

Steven leaned close, and hugged both her and Ashlyn. The tears that she had held back since her father’s disappearance began to flow. “It’s all right; we’ll take care of you. I promise.”

“My Daddy,” through her sniffles and broken cries, “used to say that.”

“Sweetheart, what’s your name?” asked Ashlyn.

“Christie.”

“That’s a very pretty name!” said Ash. “Christie, you said before that no one speaks English, here. Is there someone, somewhere else that does speak English?” Ash proceeded to ask.

“Yes, but I don’t see him much.”

“Where does he stay?”

“I’ve only seen him by the fountain.”

“Can you help us find him, let him know we’d like to talk to him?”

She nodded. “How come I haven’t seen you before?” Christie asked Ashlyn.

“We just got here. We’re from Earth,” said Steven.

“Daddy said Enlil hates Earth.”

“When did you see your Daddy last?” Steven asked.

“Two horns ago.”

“Two horns?” asked Ashlyn.

“Uh-huh—they blow a horn each day, when it’s time for us to get a drink,” said Christie.

Ash, then turned to Christie. “So it was two days ago that they took your father?” affirmed Steven.

Christie nodded.

“Do you know why the guards were coming to get you that day?” Steven asked. The girl’s eyes tightened in pain.

“It’s all right,” Ash assured Christie, “It’s in the past now.” Steven’s fist clenched. His hatred for Enlil seethed, his blood boiled and he could only assume that Phillip was already dead.

“Ash?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t sense him. I’ve been trying.”

Steven swallowed past the lump in his throat, his sadness overwhelming. Turning he led Ash and Christie toward an empty corner behind them. They were desperately in need of rest. As the people in the room, saw that Steven and Ashlyn were settling in for the night, Christie between them, they grew less fearful and slowly went to their beds, scattered round the room on the floor.

Driven by starvation, Ashlyn asked Christie if she knew where they could get some food. Nodding, Christie quietly rose, and walking over to an old woman squatting on her bed, uttered a few unknown words. The woman reached into a bag cradled in her lap and pulled out a bundled cloth. Christie returned with the cloth and when Ashlyn opened it, she found a thick slab of cooked fish.

“Kua,” Christie called it. Nodding to the woman, they offered thanks. It smelled great. Their mouths watered. They found it to be slightly moist and entirely satisfying.

Reaching into his pack, Steven pulled out the small water-gourd, and after giving Christie a drink, told her to take it to the old woman who’d shared her fish. In return, the old woman smiled thankfully, showing a near toothless, but never-the-less, radiant smile.

Steven and Ashlyn both slept soundly, until early morning, when a security detail of six guards burst into the room. At gunpoint, the forty or so sleeping people in the room were motioned to proceed outside.

“Steven, maybe we should make a stand now? If they find the dead guard hidden under the bedding they’ll kill everyone in here.”

“For Phillip’s sake, if he’s still alive, I can’t chance dying in a gun battle. Besides, I want to meet Enlil. He’s the one giving the orders.

Ash, I should tell you—if I can, I’m going to blast the bastard’s head off.”

“I know.”

“Leave the bandolier, keep the rifle. If you’re right, we might need it,” said Steven. Hidden behind the crowd of rising people, they grabbed a couple of the larger sash-style outer garments lying round the room and wrapped it around them, hiding the stubby rifle beneath. Within moments, they were following the others outside. The twin suns were just beginning to rise above the wall on the eastern horizon, the marble-white courtyard swathed deep in the shadow of the pyramid. To the sound of cracking whips, everyone in the hundreds of barracks that lined the inside of the perimeter wall were marched into the large square, each group keeping separate from the others.

In the middle was a very elaborate and enormous, dry fountain.

In prison fashion, the parapets along the top of the wall were lined with watchful, armed guards.

The pyramid, like a grand centerpiece, challenged the imagination. Nothing on Earth came close to it in size or majesty. Each of its four sides was a kilometer in length, its pinnacle, nearly a full kilometer above them. Though its size was impressive, it paled in comparison to the pyramid’s entrance. The pyramid was really two structures in one, part pyramid and part palace.

Wrapped around the lower portion of the pyramid’s base was the statuesque body of a solid, golden cobra. It was coiled around the structure as if it were protecting it. The cobra’s flared, hooded head rose high above the coils, forming the entrance into the pyramid. Deep within the cobra’s mouth, sat a colossal set of doors that led to the interior. The cobra’s fangs concealed hidden, support columns that bore the weight of the heavy, upper jaw.

Bearing witness to the genius behind the design, the cobra’s forked tongue doubled as a long ramp that led from the ground and up into the cobra’s mouth. The sun sparkled off the cobra’s ruby red eyes, setting them ablaze.

The structure robbed Steven’s mind of comprehension and stole his breath.

About forty male, human guards, large and muscular, were stretched around the length of the lower jaw, looking like a row of teeth.

I bet they are the Elite Guard, Enlil’s new, pure Anunnaki, thought Steven, sure of his conjecture.

Each of them wore a heavy, armored helmet, ornately sculpted of silver, and held a long rifle with a sickle like blade for a stock.

“Steven, I think that’s where they were keeping Phillip,” said Ashlyn as she stared at the massive structure.

“Anything? Do you sense him at all?”

Ash, shook her head. “I’d thought I’d feel something, if we were this close.” Her eyes portrayed her sadness.

A shout came from inside their barracks, behind them. They’d found the body of the dead guard.

A lash broke across Steven’s back, rousing him to the fact that his group had been ordered to move forwards. When Steven turned toward the lashing guard, half a dozen guards raised their weapons, prepared to fire if he made the slightest move.

Moved to the center of the courtyard, those in Steven’s group were now the focal point of attention.

“Kar er-im,” came the shout from a guard exiting their barracks. Dozens of nearby guards came running; encircling the group. They were ordered to strip down.

The eyes of everyone in the courtyard were staring at them, wondering what they had done wrong to deserve such scrutiny.

Steven, knowing they were going to be caught, “Hide your rifle in your clothes, I’ll draw their attention.” Steven took a few steps forward, approaching the nearest guard. Looking him square in the eyes, even as the guard’s weapon came to bear on his chest, Steven slowly removed his outer garment, revealing the rifle he was holding beneath—moving slowly, non-threateningly, he dropped the small rifle to the ground, atop the clothing.

“Looks like you caught me! I did it! But to tell you the truth, anything that smells that bad should be put out of its misery!”

Now naked and vulnerable, a second guard standing nearby raised his whip into the air and brought it down, each successive lash displaying his anger. All the guards watched in delight. Distracted—Ashlyn seized the chance to discard her weapon.

“I love you, Steven Sherrah—my noble knight!” said Ashlyn into his mind, as she and Christie slid adeptly back into the center of the cowering people in their group.

As Steven’s beating drew to a close, and he lay upon the ground, bloodied and torn—the guards came and bound his hands behind his back with shackles, tethering his feet in chains so that he could take nothing longer than a half stride.

Lifting his head, Steven saw that off to his right, a slave caravan was entering the city through the large gate. When he caught site of Brummon, a half smiled crested his face. You made it. You don’t even have any more lash marks. Good for you.

His jubilation was short lived.

Apparently, one of the guards entering with Brummon recognized him, pointing at Steven with his elongated, pinky finger.

To Steven, with rare exception, trying to pick out one guard from another was like trying to pick out one white goose from a hundred other identical white geese.

The guard from the slave caravan approached, carrying what turned out to be a leather collar. As the Gray approached, and began slipping it over Steven’s head, “Take your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty Gray!” Inside, Steven chuckled. He’d always wanted to say that, well—almost that.

Shocked at Steven’s rebellion, the Gray tightened the slipknot excessively, then handed each of its two attached tethers to one of the Elite Guard that had joined them.

Then, like he were a rabid dog, they stretched him taut, like he was the prize in a game of tug-of-war. The slipknot tightened, unforgivingly. While choking, Steven caught sight of Christie, her little head poking out from behind Ashlyn. He saw that she had tears streaming down her face. For her, seeing his torture was like watching her father all over again.

Suddenly, from high above, the Elite Guards within the mouth of the cobra began to blow horns.

Steven gasped for air as the Grays eased up and loosed the ropes. He tried to swallow, but found it near impossible and very painful.

The horns ceased, the echo faded away.

Ashlyn and her group of slaves were led away, joining Brummon and the other groups. Steven was now alone and center stage. Within moments, he knew he would be meeting Enlil, face to face.

Chapter 20

The square, as Christie had called it, was filling with both humans and an occasional Neanderthal. They were filing in from every street and passageway within the city, carrying containers of all shapes and sizes. Christie had told them that when the horns blow, it’s the signal for humans to cease work and gather in the square for water rations. No one dared miss it.

Brummon casually stepped up to Ashlyn’s side, taking advantage of the moment to burn the image of her nakedness into memory. His tethered Neanderthal counterpart, grunted loudly, displeased at seeing him gawking at Ashlyn.

“I never thought I’d see you two again!” His words an obvious double entendre.

Ashlyn glanced over at him to see that he was staring at her plumped breasts. She never got the chance to reprimand him as two short blasts from the horns sounded. The thousands of gathered slaves knelt to their knees. Those who responded slowly were reminded by the crack of a whip across the back. Steven however, was ordered to keep standing.

“Guess, it’s take me to your leader time?” said Steven to the guard standing beside him. The two Elite Guards pulled his collar tighter, trying to silence him.

The shorter Gray standing in front of him, looked at him incredulously, “You da’r speak.”

The crowd hushed, whispers and elbows in the ribs, gathering the attention of those who had heard Steven’s audible defiance.

Though the collar was tight, Steven strained to speak, “Yes, Boo-boo bear. I dare speak! You are murderers; I have found you guilty. Your punishment shall be death! Tell Yogi over there,” Steven nodded to one of the Elite Guards, “to bring Enlil to me so that I can pronounce judgment against him.”

Steven had never seen any of the aliens express what he would call emotion. However, with a mere cock of the guard’s head and a couple of blinks, he knew that this one was truly stunned.

The Gray uttered something in his guttural, native tongue to another guard behind Steven, who then raised his rifle and fired it randomly into the crowd.

A small, frail woman in the middle was hit in the abdomen. She fell to the ground in agony as her body seized in a dying spasm. Her eyes bulged from the inflicted pain, blood seeping from her mouth to drip upon the white floor. Her thin, sun darkened body lay still, constricted into a fetal position.

“We punish yor’ ins’lence!”

“And I will punish you.” What Steven was doing, he had no idea. Being outrageously bold just felt right. He felt driven to stare his enemy down. If nothing else, Steven believed it might show the other slaves that captivity need not be tolerated.

The guard stopped dead his tracks. He had no idea what to do or how to respond.

Three short trumpet blasts sounded. The guard threw a quick glance at the palace and saw that the guards were already opening the immense doors. Each had hold of a ring, pulling it. Even then, the forty guards, twenty per door struggled to pull its weight.

He then turned and giving Steven a blow to the back of his head, “Bow yor’ head to the living God, Enlil—hum’n filth!” Steven looked round and saw that the heads of all the guards were bowed.

“You dare to call Enlil, human filth!” said Steven, playfully quipping the words back, with a laugh. “You Grays are so ungrateful. No matter, let Enlil tell me himself, if he has the balls!”

Whispers raced through the thousands of gathered slaves.

The guard was trapped. He dared not defy the order to keep his head bowed, and yet, his inability to have gotten Steven to comply, had him in fear.

Steven loved being able to speak his mind, without having to fear any repercussion. He was actually having fun.

Steven stood tall; his head held high as the two large palace doors opened wide. “Enlil’s must have a small cock, trying to over-compensate with a large palace, huh?”

Steven thought he might have heard the guard standing next to him snicker—and Steven soon realized why. What came forth out of those doors was by no-means small. Ok, I wasn’t expecting that.

Steven’s mind raced. The biblical account in Genesis of Enlil, Satan, depicting him as a serpent now seemed more possible. Maybe it wasn’t just figurative?

“The hell we’re made in his image!” said Steven aloud. None of this is making sense.

The ornamental golden cobra that was wrapped round the pyramid was exaggerated in size, but not by much, considering that the serpents head alone, was perhaps fifteen meters in length. The silver-scaled snake slowly slithered down the long ramp that led into the square, hissing, its forked tongue regularly stabbing at the air.

In typical snake like fashion, he slithered cross the square toward Steven—and though the entrance to the pyramid was almost two hundred meters away, the snake was almost atop Steven before the end of his tail exited the palace.

“Enlil?” said Steven, his words almost a question.

“I am Enlil, your God!” The serpent hissed.

“I bet you’re a big hit with the girls,” said Steven. “Contrary to popular cliché, I’ve been told, size does matter!” The serpent blinked in surprise. Coming to a stop not three meters away, his body continued to slither behind him, catching up. Flaring his hood, Enlil arched backwards and raising his head high into the air, hissed at the suns that were rising.

Steven stole a moment to glance at Ashlyn; he saw that she had hidden Christie behind her.

Looking back at the serpent, their eyes met. The serpent squinted, the center of his eyes changing into golden-yellow slits. He seemed to be studying Steven’s ability to watch him without cowering.

As though he were preparing to strike, he drew backwards and then with lightning speed, threw his head forward, swallowing the guard who stood beside Steven in a single gulp.

“I told him to be nice,” said Steven. “It’s a good thing you got rid of him! He was giving you a bad reputation. He actually called you, human filth.” Steven’s humor was a front to conceal his angst. Regardless of his resolve, the speed, size and power of the serpent was overwhelming. He had no idea how he had thought he could defeat such an enemy.

Enlil, with a glance at his two Elite Guards, bayed they drop the leash to Steven’s collar and step away.

Slowly, Enlil moved to within a meter of Steven’s face. His black, forked tongue darted out; leaving yet another bleeding lash mark upon Steven’s already bleeding chest and neck. As he drew backwards again, Steven dared not look away, for he sensed that Enlil wanted to humble him before the on-looking crowd.

Slowly, the snake lowered his head, coming even closer than before. After a hiss, “I am God, why do you provoke me so?” His voice was authoritative, slow, commanding. It resonated into every corner of the square, regardless of distance.

Steven was at a loss for words. He felt checkmated.

“Answer when spoken to, human!”

Steven remembered something he had learned at the academy—when cornered and outnumbered, go on the attack. “You are not God!” Bellowed Steven, loud and clear for all to hear.

Hissing loudly, angrily, the serpent reared back and then lunged sideways, picking up a young man in his mouth. Then, almost ceremoniously, he pointed his head at the two suns, sending the man on a downward-slide into his throat. A fading scream could be heard as he was swallowed. The lump of the man’s body could be seen traveling along, his bones making a distinct snapping sound as he was crushed and regurgitated within.

Most of the people watching, stood motionless, unaffected. It was apparently something to which they were genuinely accustomed.

Giving a long hiss, the serpent opened his mouth wide, almost as if yawning after a satisfying meal.

Again coming to within a meter of Steven’s face, “What is your name human?”

“Interesting, a God who asks questions!”

A moment’s pause came and went before the Serpent, obviously shocked at such rebellion, began to rage wildly. Lifting his head thirty meters off the ground, he hissed at the sky, displaying unbelievable anger. His coils thrashed about, his tail whipping through the crowd, sending hundreds of people flying and killing more than a few.

His yellow eyes focused narrowly upon Steven as he approached yet again. “I tortured the last human who defied me for days. I will ask you one last time. Answer or your death will be even slower and more painful. What is your name?”

“It must be humiliating, not having anyone your own size to pick on!

But still, you surprise me Enlil—do you not recognize your own brother?”

“Enki?” Before Enlil could say more, Steven interjected.

“So, you do recognize me, my brother,” Steven shouted for all to hear. Steven took a chance, playing on a hunch. A soft murmur of conversation could be heard echoing among the thousands of slaves, both human and non-human. The snake went wild. His body changed colors. The pupils of his eyes glowed with a radiance equal to that of a sun.

“You are devious, human!” said Enlil with a laugh, “But Enki, you are not! Still, I find you amusing! If you will bow down before me and do me an act of obeisance, I will forgive your insolence and let most of these people live.” He finished his offer with a hiss.

“Enlil!” Steven screamed as he saw Enlil’s gaze fall upon Ashlyn. Steven could feel Enlil’s hunger for her. In her state of health, Ashlyn stood out like an orchid among weeds—but he also wondered if perhaps, Enlil was sensing that Ashlyn was pure Anunnaki.

“Enlil, hear me! Have you learned nothing? You asked a similar thing once before of me, did you not?” Steven hoped that he was at least playing some of the cards right.

“Yes, I offered Enki the world and yet he refused! Am I to blame for his stupidity?” his voice haughtily boomed out.

“Yes, you offered me the world and I refused. You have broken Anunnaki law. You have disobeyed the Council to which you had sworn allegiance,” taunted Steven.

The serpent’s body churned ceaselessly, his tongue stabbing at the invisible air, as he again looked at Steven with keen attention. “Enlil, I Enki, speak for the Council of Twelve. Even as we speak, the fleet is en route to bring you to justice. Once again, you have enslaved these people and attacked their home world!”

“How do you know of such things?” said Enlil.

“Because I am Enki,” said Steven. “I speak for the Council.”

“You are not Enki—and so that all may know that you are not a god, loose yourself and stop me, human!”

The serpent rose high into the air. His body began to dissolve and change; he shifted form, becoming that of a Centaur. His height topped that of the Citadel’s walls. Now, Steven understood the power of the Gift of Knowledge. “Ash, this is the second gift! The power to shape-shift! That explains everything.”

“But—how do we do it?” she asked back.

The gathered slaves gasped at the sight. Out of fear, they backed away, crowding themselves up against the walls and buildings. Many began to bow down, begging forgiveness.

“See human, these people worship me. On this day, they shall see that I am the one, true God!” His hooves clacked loudly on the stone as he moved about the square. He stopped before an old man and pointing at him, “You! Give yourself to me!” The old man bowed and then laid face down on the ground. “Watch human, see for yourself.” The Centaur raised his hoof and lowered it upon the old man, crushing him.

“Enlil, I command you to stop!” said Steven, as he dared take a step forwards.

“You command, me? Watch your people die, Enki. Once they are all dead then I shall come for you.”

The Centaur turned and began stomping the fleeing people beneath his hooves. The square was riotous, people fled in panic, screaming. The guards lining the parapets and down in the square, began shooting those who sought to escape.

Ashlyn had backed up against a wall and was huddling amongst the slaves. As if he were drawn to her, Enlil again spotted her and he began moving toward her—as he moved, he transformed, once again becoming the snake.

Steven, worried for her safety, strained at his bonds with every ounce of his strength.

The crowd cleared as the serpent approached. As Enlil lunged for Ashlyn—in a single move, Ashlyn pushed Christie aside and jumped high into the air, giving Enlil a strong, roundhouse kick to the nose. Enlil reeled back, taking delight in her resistance. Ash used the moment to make a dash for her boots that lay on the ground twenty meters away.

She managed to get to her boots a second ahead of Enlil as he lunged for her. From her boot, Ashlyn pulled out a hidden knife, and diving off to her right side, came back up into a standing position. With his next attack, she parried him with a backflip, easily evading him. As her feet hit the ground, in a blisteringly fast move, she let the knife fly. Taken by surprise and committed to his forward lunge, Enlil was helpless to avoid the knife as it landed squarely in his left pupil. The serpent reeled from his unaccustomed exposure to pain.

Ashlyn circled round him as he flailed about, moving out into the center of the square and drawing him away from Christie.

Again setting herself, Ashlyn took a defensive stance.

“Damn, she’s good,” said Steven, softly.

Steven called out to the gaping crowd. “Slaves! I call to you. I command you to rise up, because your deliverance is at hand. Behold, he bleeds. I Enki, command you to fight. Do not refuse to obey me, for I speak for the Anunnaki, those who stood by your side and defended your home back on Earth.” Steven could only hope that a few of them might understand English.

The serpent was screaming in pain as he curled and wriggled like a worm on a hook.

The people seemed awed at the use of Enki’s name and seemed about to fight, when Enlil took notice of their growing courage and stopped thrashing.

Seeking to regain control, he turned toward Steven, and shifted form, becoming Steven. Ashlyn’s knife fluttered through the air, falling to the courtyard’s floor. Enlil, in the form of Steven uttered something in an unknown language, neither Sumerian nor English. To Steven, he then said, “She will be my special prize and she will pay in ways she cannot imagine.”

He then gave a very human sounding maniacal laugh, before turning and speaking to Ashlyn, “You are indeed beautiful. I remember the days of long ago, when females offered themselves to me, wanting nothing more than to please me, their God—but the females here are withered and dry.

You however—remind me of earlier times. I think I will keep you for as long as you can bring me pleasure. Do you like me in his form?” said Enlil, adding, “I’ll bet you may even enjoy it,” said Enlil’s in Steven’s voice.

Ash spit on the ground, “You aren’t worthy of washing his feet!”

Steven was never so proud of her as he was at that very moment, a moment when they both faced death.

The serpent hissed, “You fight for him. Then let me make you an offer. If you surrender yourself to me and do my bidding, you have my word that I will spare his life!”

Ashlyn considered his offer for only the briefest of moments, before her posture relaxed and she allowed the guards to come and bind her. “We need time, my love. Time to understand how to use the Gift!” said Ashlyn into Steven’s mind.

Enlil in Steven’s form turned and spoke to Steven, “I find you and your whore very amusing. You will die this day, but know that I will treat her well for as long as she pleases me. And yes, human—it is as you say—my size will impress her—if it does not split her in two!” he said with a haughty laugh.

Enlil looked at the guard standing beside Steven and with a nod; the Elite Guard gave Steven a hard blow that sent him careening to the ground.

The pain from his nearly cracked jaw was intense, his breath trapped in his throat. Struggling, he defiantly rolled over to see the enemy who had struck him.

Steven rose shakily to his knees. He wasn’t going to let the man rob him of his dignity, not in his last moments of life. Steven spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

Suddenly, all around Steven, flames arose, burning him. Steven screamed as his skin bubbled, blistered and charred. The deeper layers of his muscle tissue began flaking away, exposing the white bone beneath. The torrential flood of pain drove him toward insanity as a distant inhuman scream carried upon his last breath, escaped him.

His hair in flames, dripped like candle wax to the ground. His fingers were black, charred. He wondered why he was alive, how he could endure such pain, such mutilation and not die.

“Steven, the pain isn’t real. It’s one of the Watchers, Enlil’s Elite guard. He’s giving you the vision of pain—a pain that is only in your mind. Listen to me, Steven. It’s only a vision. He’s putting it into your mind. It’s not real. Focus on my voice! Focus! Picture a wall of cinder blocks between you and the flames. A wall, Steven! A wall!”

Steven strained against the pain, listening to Ashlyn’s voice. He pictured the wall, but the pain was so intense, so real!

“Yes, Steven, reach out and touch it. The wall is real! It’s between you and the flames! Touch it. Feel it. It’s shielding you from the fire.

You are stronger than he is. Focus. Fight him! Touch the wall! Fight!”

Touching it, he suddenly began to believe in its existence. He could feel its rough texture. It was cool to the touch. He pummeled his fists against it, each blow reinforcing his belief that it was there. He pounded at the wall, his own blood staining it red. The wall was thick. It surrounded him. It was between him and the flames. It was between him and—the—flames.

The flames began to recede until it went dark and then coalesced into a field of green.

The pain was gone. He was floating, flying over a green field that ebbed with pulsing energy. Electrical impulses swirled and raced away from him as though they were fleeing from his presence. The pathway was clearing before him, letting him escape. He concentrated harder upon reaching the other side, where he saw a bright circular doorway. Rainbow colors raced across the sky above as he sped towards it. He could feel his salvation nearing as he exploded into the light.

Suddenly, from some distant place, he saw himself down on his knees. His hands were braced at his temples, his eyes wide like that of a madman, his face exhibiting a look of fierce concentration. Steven was shocked, to find that he had gained entry into the mind of his attacker.

His excitement at the revelation, that he could reverse the flow of the vision sent a wild surge of adrenaline coursing through him. Steven pictured himself tearing at the man’s throat. His neck grasped firmly between his clawing hands, crushing it with a strength that was more than humanly possible. The man’s skin began to tear. “This is for what was done to my son, you demon bastard! This is for him!” The anger, which he had contained for so long, unleashed itself in a tremendous surge of power.

Steven’s fingers dug deep into the man’s muscle and tissue, gripping his spine. A mixture of blood and flesh oozed from between Steven’s fingers. With all his might, he pulled, yanking the man’s spine out of his body.

Rising to his feet, he held the grotesquely detached head and dangling spine in his hands.

The headless corpse slumped to the ground, spurting heavy streams of blood from broken arteries. Steven reveled in the momentary, mental victory.

With the mental death of his guard, the connection between the two warriors was broken. Steven found himself as before, kneeling upon the ground. Before him, the thousands of slaves were on their knees, bowing to the ground while as one they chanted, “Enki—Enki—Enki!”

His eyes sought out Ashlyn. She was beside Enlil and surrounded by the Elite Guard. The look upon Ashlyn’s face conveyed far more than he could immediately comprehend. He looked at Enlil and the guards standing around him. Their frozen stance only reinforced his confusion.

Steven turned round, looking behind him, to see the source of their distraction. Only a short distance away, lay the decapitated body of one of Enlil’s Elite guard. His head and spine lay grotesquely on the ground next to his fallen body. No one was more surprised than was Steven.

Issuing an order in his native tongue, Enlil commanded his guards to quickly take Ashlyn inside the palace.

Enlil then gave the order for the guards to kill Steven. As the hundreds of guards round the square raised their weapons, Enlil turned away to follow Ashlyn inside.

When hundreds of shots rang out, Ashlyn broke away from the grasp of her guards. As she turned toward Steven, she froze, stunned by what she saw.

Enlil too, stood stunned.

Hundreds of laser blasts were pummeling him without doing any damage.

Steven looked down, wondering how such a thing was possible. His bodily form was glistening like that of liquid silver. It flowed free of the collar and cuffs that were restraining him. His clothing ripped into shreds as long, black hairs began to grow upon his newly, forming limbs. His arms, legs and body increased twenty fold as he grew to forty meters in height. And just like in the VDDs he’d watched as a kid, he became one of the most fearsome creatures he had ever seen as a child. He had become Kong.

Feeling immensely powerful, Steven leaned forward on his long arms, bracing his stance upon his knuckles. He let out a shattering roar, bearing his fangs. The whites of Kong’s eyes raged with anger, hatred.

Seeing the threat, Enlil changed too, taking his serpent form.

Charging across the square, Steven grabbed Enlil round the neck, trying to strangle him. Enlil twisted and squirmed in his grasp, until he loosed himself. The battle raged, Kong roaring and baring his teeth and Enlil as the serpent, hissing and baring his long fangs.

Steven made a fist and slammed it down, trying to give Enlil a massive, crushing blow to his head. Enlil’s serpent form had the advantage of speed though and as Enlil reeled back, Steven’s blow was left to strike the ground, where it shattered the white stone in the Citadel.

Steven let loose a savage growl. It seemed to be a natural accompaniment to his embodiment of Kong. The square became an arena, an arena in which two titans fought to decide the fate of humanity.

Enlil’s coils managed to wrap themselves around Steven’s legs, tightening second by second. Steven’s powerful hands grabbed at the churning snake but as quickly as he could remove one coil, another replaced it. Even as he landed a blow to the snake’s head, though stunned, Enlil’s grip round him tightened.

“Steven, it’s no use. He’s too experienced. He’ll crush you,” said Ash by way of the meld. “Steven, how did you change?”

Between blows, Steven thought about her question. He remembered focusing on wanting more strength to break his bonds. It was an image of a movie that he’d focused on, a movie he’d seen but once as a kid, where Kong had freed himself from massive chains. He wondered if it could be as simple as picturing a mental image, and having the desire to want it to happen?

“Focus! Concentrate on becoming what you want. Feel it! Want it!”

Steven managed to grab Enlil’s wriggling body just below the head. His body was almost completely encased within the squeezing coils, only his arms remained free to hold the snake’s fangs at bay. Steven opened his jaws wide and with a huge growl to pump adrenaline into his body, sank his teeth deep into the nearest of the broad coils about his chest.

He bit deep, tearing at Enlil. Disgustingly bad tasting fluids spurted into Steven’s mouth. Steven tore off a chunk, spatting it upon the ground. The serpent roiled, churning violently. The struggle toppled them over into the great wall, which gave way under their force and weight.

Steven felt as though he were falling in slow motion as they tumbled toward the ground six stories below, where they hit with a quaking forcefulness.

Beneath Steven, a clump of fleeing humans scrambled to get away. Steven put his arm out, forming a bridge over them. A heavy snorting blow of air from Steven’s nostrils toppled the people over as they escaped under his armpit. Enlil’s weight atop him was massive and Enlil used the time to get the advantage.

Enlil had managed to get a coil around Steven’s neck, and he was tightening it.

Struggling desperately to free himself, from somewhere in the distance, Steven heard the screaming roar of a large, jungle cat. His large, black eyes caught a glimpse of Ashlyn leaping through the air, four sets of outstretched razor sharp claws, ready for battle.

“Nice choice, my lady!” said Steven to her in the meld.

“Thank you, my lord!”

Muscles taut and rippling, Ashlyn landed squarely on top of the serpent’s head. The cat’s claws sliced through his scales and deep into the fleshy tissue beneath. Ash threw her head back, and then brought it forwards, sinking her two, large fangs into him. Ashlyn had succeeded in using the Gift. Her saber-tooth cat was magnificent.

The serpent’s hold loosened, enabling Steven to throw off coil after coil. Ashlyn’s cat was tossed off as the serpent managed with great effort to fling her aside. Rolling over, now completely free, Steven crouched, resting on his knuckles and haunches. Ashlyn in a single bound leapt to his side.

They stood in a face off—but even as they watched, Enlil’s wounds were already beginning to heal.

“How do we defeat him?” said Ash in a rare exercising of her vocal chords.

The serpent laughed at her question. His tongue lashing out toward them, tauntingly.

Steven’s thoughts were of Phillip and of what this monstrosity had done to him. His adrenaline surged and his rage grew as he recalled his son’s torturous cries.

Steven shifted into the thing that had terrified him the most as a child. He’d had recurring nightmares of a sword-wielding soldier made of bronze, sixty meters tall. His strength and invulnerability were limitless.

His body grew and hardened into that of Talos. His bronze chest rippled with musculature. His sandaled feet spread taking an aggressive posture. He hefted the sword in his hand, swinging it, getting a feel for its weight. With every movement, the familiar, grinding squeak that had frequented his every movement reverberated shrilly through the air.

Ash changed back into her human form.

The serpent dissolved, liquefying. The chunk of tissue that Steven had spit out, like water running downhill, flowed across the ground. Having rejoined with Enlil, he began to take form into-

“Novacek?” Steven said softly.

“Did I tell you, they died slowly as I roasted each of them alive and ate them?” Ashlyn focused upon Enlil in Novacek’s form, her eyes squinted, studying him. “He’s lying. He didn’t do what he claims.”

“How Ash? How can you read his mind?”

“I’m not sure, I just can. I can see his thoughts. Novacek defeated him. Enlil lost most of his army in the failed attacks. I can see everything he’s done, all the atrocities.

But—the mountain was destroyed. If I had to guess, I think Novacek detonated the energy cores.”

“Very interesting! So, your whore can read minds,” said Enlil. “And yes, they are dead. Actually, I found the whole thing very entertaining, despite my losses. Their last act—was almost noble.”

“Ash, is Phillip alive?”

Steven watched as Ashlyn closed her eyes.

When she didn’t answer, his eyes darted to Enlil in Novacek’s form. He saw that Novacek was watching Ashlyn, but the strained look upon his face conveyed something much deeper. The intensity, with which they were staring each other down, showed that they were inwardly locked in a mental battle.

It was Steven’s chance, a chance to strike at Enlil while he was vulnerable. He began to move forward.

“No Steven!” Ash screamed out. “This is beyond you. If you should get caught between us, it will rip your mind apart.”

Steven stepped back. Ash, seemingly weakened, fell to one knee. Her concentration had faltered in order to warn him—and it had given Enlil an advantage in their invisible, mental battle. She screamed out loudly from the inflicted pain. A trickle of blood began to seep from her nose, catching on her lip.

A scream from Novacek drew Steven’s attention away from her. Though he was on his knees, grasping his head in agonizing pain, he was grinning maniacally. He had won.

Ashlyn screamed, collapsing to the ground. Steven stepped forward, shielding her.

Horrifying imagery raced through Steven’s mind at a pace that was mind-boggling. He saw thousands of years of tortures and atrocities. Enlil had been trying to drive Ashlyn insane, showing her his own acts of cruelty, knowing it would be more than her human psyche could bear.

The images of thousands of children being dismembered and eaten, women being tortured mercilessly, men having the skin peeled from their bodies was unfathomably painful. Steven fought to block them from his mind, focusing on his desire to protect Ashlyn—but when he saw an image of Phillip screaming, strapped to a table, his rage unleashed itself.

Widening his stance and squaring his shoulders, the noise made by Talos’ every movement ear piercing, with a tilt of his head, he looked down at Novacek.

Dissolving his sword and reacquiring the molecules into himself, he put his hands out to his side. Drawing upon the energy in the air around him, he drew it into himself. The air ionized and began to stir to life, sparkling, sizzling and crackling.

The wind grew thick, warm. It began to circle him, racing round him as if he were in the center of a hurricane. The eye expanded as the storm grew in strength until even Enlil was standing within it. Small bolts of lightning began to strike his metal form, empowering him.

“What is this?” screamed Enlil, trying to be heard above the din of noise around him.

Ignoring Enlil’s question, Steven gathered the enormous energies of the earth and air, making their power, his own. The chiseled, taut lines of Talos’ body tensed, his veins rising ever sharper as he gained power. His muscles bulged.

The winds were racing at hundreds of kilometers per hour around them and nothing could be seen outside it. From the interior walls of the vortex, from every direction, dozens of energy streams were feeding him raw energy. His body began to glow as the energy inside him radiated outward, unable to be fully contained.

Out of concern for Ashlyn, with a mere thought, Steven created a protective barrier around her, encasing her unconscious, naked body within a floating bubble of pure, white energy.

Novacek stared at Steven not comprehending the power he possessed. His eyes went wide as Steven pulled his arms down, turning them toward him. With a loud shriek, Steven pointed at Enlil. His eyes began to glow golden as his fury prepared to unleash itself, his temples pulsing to the beat of an inhuman, iron heart.

With defiant anger, “I damn you! For every human you have killed. For every innocent child that you have tortured. For my son, I damn you!”

Suddenly from each of his palms, Steven sent alternating orbs of pure energy into Novacek. With each burst, the form of Novacek screamed out as the bolts electrocuted him. Enlil seemed to be trying to change form, trying to find one that was impervious to the effects, but the pulses were like a reset button that prevented him from doing so. With each burst, instead of growing weaker, Steven grew stronger, the raging storm supplying him with an ever growing, limitless power.

Steven continued to pummel Novacek though he lay still and lifeless. Steven felt no pity for him even as his last breath exited him.

And yet, Steven continued to assault him. He knew not how to let his rage die, to bring it to an end. It was Ashlyn, as she awoke within the bubble that told Steven to stop, fearing she might lose him.

Steven lowered his large arms. Facing his hands toward the ground, he sent the hastening stream of pulsing orbs into the desert floor. The sand beneath him began to crystalize and glow. Suddenly, Steven sent a last, massive pulse into Novacek and like a lightning rod; it drew all the energy Steven had sent into the ground unto Novacek.

Steven, in the blink of an eye, put up a shield, protecting Ashlyn and himself from the ensuing eruption.

Like a small atomic blast, the desert floor below Novacek exploded. The city even though more than a kilometer away was completely engulfed in the dust and raining debris.

Through the haze of dust, he saw Ashlyn, ten meters behind him, lying upon the ground.

A laugh drew his attention. His surprise could not have been more evident, as in turning round; he spotted Enlil, still in Novacek’s form rising from the bottom of a seventy-foot wide, blast crater. How he had survived, Steven had no idea.

Steven began to move toward him, his sword again at the ready.

Novacek began to transform—disappearing.

“Ok, so tell me, how did he turn invisible?”

Steven thought for a moment, “I don’t think he did—I think he just became something so small, it looked like he disappeared.”

“So, this isn’t going to be easy,” said Ash.

“It’s smoke and mirrors—little tricks like that one that make him appear stronger and more powerful than he is.”

Novacek suddenly appeared behind them. “I wonder how it is that you received your Gift? It can only be given to those who are—ah, I understand. You are— pure Anunnaki.”

Enlil’s eyes shifted to Ashlyn. His desire for an Anunnaki female clearly evident. “That explains much.” His eyes shifted back to Steven. “I should have realized humans could not be trusted. They created your whore, hiding her from me.

Let me ask you, Tin Man, do you like being Anunnaki? Is it not, god-like? If you will give your whore to me, I will spare your lives. I will let you rule at my side, giving you all the Anunnaki that I have created. They will obey you as they do me. In exchange, I will spare all the humans here. You can even have them as your slaves. I have no taste for them anymore. They are withered and dying. Take them—they are yours.”

“Serpent, your tyranny has come to an end.

You will never leave this world. You will never build your army to attack Heaven. We’ve made sure that none of your pure Anunnaki will be permitted to see the Keeper.

“Then let us finish this now, rusty one!” said Enlil.

“I made a vow, serpent! I will kill you. And I will make it as painful for you as you have made it for your victims!” snarled Steven.

“Steven, be patient! He’s goading you. We’ve got to work together to have a chance of defeating him!” Enlil then shifted into a Griffin. He had the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion.

His wings fanned out and beat at the air. With an eagle’s screech, he pointed his head at the sky and lifted himself aloft. To Steven, his wings looked too small for his weight and his cumbersome flight bore it out. Steven hoped he could use it to his advantage. Soaring high, the Griffin then made a large sweeping turn, coming back round to face them.

Steven shifted his feet into an attack posture and hefted the bronze sword high into the air, ready to take a swing.

Enlil started to dive. Steven moved, the ear-piercing screech of metal making Ashlyn wince, “A little oil wouldn’t have hurt, would it?”

Ash changed back into the tiger and bounded off so she’d be away from the sweeping arc of Talos’ sword. As the Griffin closed the distance, his mouth opened wide and he took a massively, large inhalation of air. As he exhaled, fire erupted in a great and mighty stream from his mouth. Blinded, Steven took his best guess and swung his sword. After Enlil passed, Steven squeakily turned to see the results. He’d missed, but—Ashlyn’s saber-toothed tiger was landing awkwardly upon the ground. Rolling once, she regained her footing. Steven peered upwards and saw that the Griffin’s right wing was badly shred and as a result, his flight was heavily labored. Her attack had hurt him.

Only as Ash bounded toward Steven, did he see that her right side was badly burned, her fur smoldering. “Ash, are you all right? You’ve taken a lot the last couple of weeks!”

“I’m fine.”

Steven wasn’t sure if he believed her but when he turned to check on Enlil, he saw that he was setting down a few hundred meters away. Even from this distance, his shrieks of pain filled the air.

“He’s letting his wing repair!”

“The Keeper had said we must not fight him strength against strength,” Ash reminded. “He has too much experience.”

“So he did! Let’s try this.”

“A dragon?”

“They are bigger, stronger, faster,” said Steven.

As Ashlyn transformed, Steven couldn’t help but chuckle. “Can’t hide from mother nature can you?”

Ash looked down to see that her female dragon had a very large set of breasts. “Guess not, but then again, I have no idea of what a female dragon is supposed to look like?”

“I like your version. I wonder how dragons do it? Could be interesting! Gives a whole new meaning to getting some tail!”

Ashlyn gave him a smack with her spiked tail. “That’s all the tail you’re getting!”

As their wings beat at the air, carrying them aloft, Steven took a large inhalation of breath. As he’d hoped, when he exhaled strongly, it caught fire and shot forth. “I don’t know how it works Ash but it does.”

Ash followed his lead and lit the ground ablaze.

“He’s lifting off Ash, let’s go!”

The Griffin had risen into the air, his wing not yet fully repaired. His flight still unsteady.

Like a fighter in a strafing run, Steven lined up for the attack, swooping down upon him. As Steven took in a bellyful of air, Enlil spun, flying backwards. It exposed his deadly claws, and though Steven engulfed him in flame, Enlil grasped at the air.

Steven turned round, expecting to see Enlil in flames, but what he saw was Ashlyn caught within his four claws.

Ash was struggling to free herself, but each movement only made his claws gouge deeper. Her spiked tail flailed, striking him with blows that seemed to intrigue him.

As his viciously, burning eyes locked upon Steven, he inserted the hook of his beak beneath her neck, piercing her deeply.

“Steven!” Ash screamed.

Enlil then ran the hook downward, slicing her open, down to her stomach, expelling her entrails. Blood gushed into the air like red rain. In a move purely designed to show his supremacy over them, Enlil began tearing Ashlyn’s organs apart with his beak.

A loud blood-curdling shriek from Ashlyn told of the damage he was doing.

“Noooooo!” Steven roared, as he swooped toward them.

As Steven closed the distance, Enlil released her, letting her plummet toward the ground far below.

Steven dove hard, hoping to catch her. Ash, craning her head upwards, “I will love you forever-” Even as her eyes glazed into a dead stare, with her dying breath she whispered into his mind, “Behind you!”

Steven looked over his right wing to see Enlil descending upon him. They spun, their bodies tangling, their claws locking.

As Steven tumbled round, he caught sight of Ashlyn, her body in the midst of reverting to her human form. She hit the ground, slowly transforming into nothing more than a lump of torn, human flesh.

Thrashing wildly, Steven’s surging adrenaline allowed him to break one claw free. Running a talon down the griffin’s chest, he made a deep gash. Enlil cried out, releasing him.

Capturing the air, Steven glided down to Ashlyn’s side, where he then changed back into his own form. Tears flooded down his face as he knelt at her side and wiped the loose strands of hair from her delicate face. Her skin, smooth and soft, seemed to have already begun to cool. Her broken and shred body had taken too much for even a god to bear.

The griffin, hovering in the air above him, beat his wings haughtily in victory.

Steven looked up at him, his eyes red and filled with tears. He gave a strained, defiant scream that drained him of the will to live. With Ashlyn’s death, his heart was ripped from him. Even vengeance seemed unimportant. He had lost all that he held dear.

“See insolent human, you know not real power!” Enlil descended, landing in front of him.

Steven raised Ashlyn into his arms, holding her to his chest. He could feel her blood flowing down his legs.

“Let me end this now. I will make your death quick, if not painless.”

A spark of hatred found its way to the surface from the dark depths of Steven’s crushed heart, “The next time we meet Enlil, you have my promise that I will rip your heart out with my bare hands!”

Steven changed into the dragon, and with a flap of his large wings, he lifted off the ground. The Griffin pounced, his swiping claw missing Steven by only centimeters. As Steven flew off, carrying Ashlyn’s dead body in his arms, he turned to see the Griffin giving chase, but its bulky form and injured chest made flight cumbersome and he knew that he would not be caught.

An hour later, back at the wall, Steven landed and once again took his human form. “Keeper, I know I gave orders not to allow us in, but-”

Chapter 21

“You may enter, Lord Steven. I have seen that which has befallen you,” said the Keeper. Even as Steven entered the wall, he could feel his own life force ebbing away.

Steven carried Ashlyn down the path that led to the tree. As he gently set her down at the edge of the stream, his legs grew weak, and he collapsed beside her, his tears streaming. He laid his head on her shoulder and took her hand in his.

“I am sorry, Lord Steven.”

“Is there anything that can be done to help her? Anything?”

“I know of nothing that can be done. I wish there were.”

Scooping up handfuls of water from the stream, Steven washed off Ashlyn’s blood-spattered face. Her death desolated his soul and filled his heart with tormented anguish. “Soon, we will be reunited even if it is in death.” Steven kissed her lips and held her tight.

Strangely, an obscure, anonymous poem Renee had once read to him now came to mind. It seemed somehow, prophetic. He repeated it softly to himself.

“As her playful spirit renewed my soul,

so did her gentle touch renew my youth.

As her sensual smile inspired my love,

so did her beauty inspire my heart.

And so it has always been

that for treasures of such value,

nations have gone to war

and men have found the poet within themselves.

The poet within me,

had once sung to the heavens in praise of her,

but alas, the anger of the warrior within me now reigns

as I mourn her meaningless death, and pursue vengeance.

And yet, hiding within the warriors shadow,

my saddened poet prays, waiting for the day

when destiny will arise and take me to her.

Waiting for the day when I will sing again.”

“Lord Steven?”

“Yes?”

“Your words hold much beauty and deep meaning, but I must ask, are you injured as well? Your life force is fading?”

“No, I’m not injured. But it is true, that I am dying. With her death, my life has also ended.”

“I feel your pain, Lord Steven. Let me help.”

The Keeper induced Steven into a deep slumber so he could heal.

In Steven’s dreams, they were together again—“I am forever yours, my lord.”

“Yes, forever!” The two of them soared on the winds of their love. It was wondrous and they’d never been happier. The playground of the gods was theirs for the taking.

Steven awoke slowly and for the briefest instant—he forgot about the tragedy. He turned over, expecting to see Ashlyn’s radiant smile, but there beside him was the brutal reality. Her lifeless, shredded corpse lay as before. It was a nightmare from which he would never awaken.

“Steven, I saw that you needed rest—but, I do not understand why your life force is still fading.”

“You misunderstood the meaning behind my words. To live, I need more than rest—I need Ashlyn. Ashlyn and I are connected on a molecular level. We are each a resonant amplifier of the other’s life force. Without her, my life force will die. I will die. I have only a matter of days left to live.”

“I am sorry.”

“Keeper? How do you feel about revenge?”

“The Anunnaki believe that revenge is wrong. They believe that killing is wrong, except for in the most extreme of circumstances, where no other choice exists. However—the words in the poem you spoke have given me much to consider. It touched my heart and for the first time, I think I can understand the depth of your loss.”

“But, do you understand revenge?”

“I do now.”

“And, how do you feel about it?”

“As I heard you say to Enlil—I wish to tear his heart out with my own hands.”

“You heard me say that?”

“Yes, I witnessed the battle.”

Steven stroked Ashlyn’s cool skin with the back of his hand, “If only I still had, Avenger.” Steven said softly to himself.

“Why?”

“Because, we had a machine aboard her that could regenerate cells. I don’t know—it might have possibly saved her.”

“How does it work?”

“I’m not a scientist; I only know that it studies the patterns within living cells. It finds the genetic encoding in healthy DNA and uses it to replicate more of the undamaged living tissue, replacing that which is dead.”

“It could bring people back to life?”

“There were times where it was said to have—yes.”

“Lord Steven, I have a regenerative device inside the wall that has given me my ability to last through the ages.”

“Would it work on her?” said Steven, his elation daring to hope.

“I do not know? I have no record of it having ever been tried on another life form. You need not ask though, I would like to try.”

“Thank you. Tell me what to do.”

“Carry her into the wall.”

The interior of the wall was beautiful and it was many times larger than Steven had suspected. It looked more like an advanced factory, housing vast amounts of equipment. An armada of miniature machines clinked and clacked everywhere, scurrying about the floor, walls and ceiling, performing a variety of unknown tasks. Steven assumed most of them were dedicated to doing repairs and maintenance.

“To your left is another room. Take her there.”

As Steven neared the door to the next room, it slid aside. Inside—a dozen, large, glass tubes filled with a blue, effervescent liquid, bubbled. “Is that you, Keeper?”

“It is.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I prefer, handsome!”

Other than the deeply resonant, authoritative voice the Keeper used, it was the first gender specific comment Steven could remember hearing the Keeper make.

“Lay her on the table to the left of my containment tubes.”

After gently lying her down, Steven stepped back. A hum from above drew his attention. A device was swiveling round. It lowered, hovering just inches above Ashlyn. It began to emit a white light and move down the length of her body. “What is it doing?”

“At the moment, it is scanning her molecular patterns, DNA as you call it. It will determine if there is enough intact structure in her living tissue to regenerate her original patterns.”

“How long will it take?”

The light stopped.

“It is done. The spark of life yet remains within her. I have enough pieces of her original pattern to initiate the process. I am having a chamber prepared for her in the next room. You must place her inside it.”

“She will live?”

“She is dead as you understand death and indeed her wounds are extensive. Nevertheless, the Gifts have helped slow the loss of the spark of life in her cellular structure. To answer your question, I am unsure. I hope so.”

“How long before we know?”

“I do not know. I have nothing to use as a comparison.”

“Can I help?”

“For Ashlyn, it will be like being reborn. She will need care. Her skin will be shedding its dead and damaged cells for new ones.”

“Do you know if her memories will be intact?”

“If she survives, there are small pathways inside her brain—where the spark of memory is yet strong.”

Steven remembered a term paper Renee had written back at the Academy on microtubules,—the place where quantum mechanics create the conscious mind—and the place where the soul, in theory, resides. He felt encouraged. He felt hope.

“Lord Steven—Enlil has just left Hades.”

“He left the planet? For where?”

“I suspect that he is gathering his forces that are scattered on the other worlds in this system, to bring them against you.”

“Does he still have a fleet of vessels?”

“Smaller vessels, yes. Many transports, but none that are capable of jumping out-system.”

“Very good. Keeper, while he is away, there’s something that I have to do. I need to leave for a short time.”

“Do not worry—Ashlyn will be fine until you return. But take care not to be gone long for there are limitations to my abilities that only you can fulfill.”

“Keeper, before I leave there’s something that I’ve been wanting to ask you. Now that we know the second Gift is the ability to shape-shift, I don’t understand why you couldn’t have told us about it, maybe even guided us on how to use it?”

“The Anunnaki children spend the first years of their life training and learning the disciplines of how to use it. They know that it must be allowed to grow to maturity, naturally.

If under duress you had sought out the Gift, calling upon it prematurely, it might have killed you. You might have changed into a form that could not survive—or was not complete. It was for your own protection that I did not tell you.”

“Thank you. I understand.”

Outside the Keeper’s wall, Steven again changed into the dragon and flew off to the city, landing in the square. When the people saw him, they scurried away in fear, hiding in the shadows. Only as he transformed into himself did they begin to humbly bow down, chanting his name, “Enki!”

He’d started something that he didn’t know how to finish.

Strangely, the guards were completely absent.

Steven ran up the ramp into the Palace to find its doors ajar. Slipping inside, he entered the massive room. He stood atop a long staircase lined with small torches, staring down into the heart of the pyramid.

The centerpiece was a large, round fire-pit in the center of the room. An ornately carved dome of stone, with cutout figures and shapes, capped it. The dancing backlight of the fire within the pit brought the shapes to life, reflecting dazzling imagery on the interior walls that told a story. In one such scene, a giant Uttu loomed large on the wall—while at his feet, an Anunnaki was standing, sword in hand, ready to do battle with it. The flickering light created a dreamlike motion, pitting them against one another in a never-ending battle.

In another, fiery horses raced, pulling a colorful and well-detailed charioteer, whip in hand, as he lashed his horses. Each depiction was a monument of delicate ambiance and majestic romanticism.

At the far end of the room, perhaps two hundred meters away, sat a massive golden throne of stone that was back dropped by deep red, floor to ceiling drapes.

He had to admit, Enlil had a style of elegance that was unparalleled.

From Steven’s high vantage point, he saw no doors, no exits, and yet, he knew there must be one.

Having removed one of the torches, he headed down into the massive chamber. He took a wide berth around the fire-pit, for its radiating heat was intense.

Standing before the throne, he studied the flame of his torch, watching it bend and flutter to a faint breeze. It led him to a well-concealed tunnel that might easily have escaped notice, if not for the flame.

Behind the throne, he found a small thermal scanner hidden in the wall that with a mere wave of his closed a secret doorway in the base of the throne. Waving his hand again, the tunnel reopened. Enlil must have been in a hurry. As he entered, it lit dimly, revealing a long descending ramp.

With each step he took, Steven’s heart sped. Though he had no expectation of finding Phillip alive, he couldn’t extinguish the pilot light of hope. If nothing else, he wanted closure.

As the ramp came to an end, ahead of him were hundreds of barred, cells. It was a prison. Each cell held two to four captives. The people inside were dirty, sickly, starving. Their hair and teeth had fallen out from lack of proper nutrition, sunlight, exercise. Many had been beaten almost beyond human recognition. They were the living dead.

As he passed, people called out to him for help; they plead to be released. They burst out crying. Though they couldn’t understand him, he touched their outstretched hands, assuring them he would be back.

It wasn’t long before Steven realized the full scope of what was before him. The cells were but one small part of a massive underground bastion.

Never before had Steven seen such a sorrowful sight.

Fully realizing that it was far too large to search alone, he decided to try a different tactic. Minutes later, calling from cell to cell, he finally found an elderly man who spoke English; his instructions led him to the prison’s control room.

With the push of a single button, he unlocked every cell simultaneously, swinging their doors open. The able-bodied were the first to leave their cells as they cautiously began to exit. As Steven walked, calling out Phillip’s name, he told those he passed to get out, to escape.

Steven passed a weapons room. It held both ancient weapons and modern, swords and rifles. It had torture devices that looked like something out of medieval times and armor that looked shiny and new. He took note of an ornamental Anunnaki statue adorning the center of the room.

But his search was for Phillip and he quickly passed the room by. His breath abated as he came to Enlil’s torture area.

Grizzly machines alluded to centuries of untold horrors. A cold chill raced through him, and he forced himself to put the images they conjured up, out of his mind. The smells were strong, the ground red with layers of blood. There was a surgical table with a large machine hovering above it in the air. Steven believed it to be the table on which they had castrated Phillip.

The next chamber was large research facility. Much of the room held large vats of bubbling, blue liquid. They were incubators.

Steven swallowed. His heart lurched. He stepped up and around the nearest, until he was facing the creature it held inside.

It was Ashlyn. In shock, he took a step back, his eyes moving from vat to vat. Each held a female, all of them looking exactly like Ashlyn. They were fully-grown, close to being released. His blood turned cold, even as his mind raced for answers.

Enlil created the males first. We were simpler, less complicated. He remembered Victor’s enthusiastic discussion about Ashlyn. Even he had said that compared to Ashlyn’s anatomy, he was boring. The females are more complex—the reproductive system alone makes them harder to recreate. Makes sense. Create the males first, and then focus on the females.

Tynabo didn’t give us our cravings—that’s part of the Anunnaki physiology. All Tynabo did was keep a copy of the genetic materials they were giving to Enlil, so they could build their own Anunnaki. Ashlyn and I.

But—Enlil was surprised by Ashlyn’s ability to read minds. And he didn’t understand how I was able to throw the energy orbs—so some of our abilities are not Anunnaki. That part was from Tynabo! It all seems so clear.

Looking at the vats around him, Enlil was so close to seeing his plan realized. He had exhausted all the resources here. He was going to move everything from here to Earth, utilize its resources, facilities, and continue his plan.

As anxious as he was to find Phillip, he took the time to find the controls. His finger hovered over the terminate button, sad that he was about to kill all of them. Anunnaki or not, they were women that looked like Ashlyn.

He had to remind himself that they weren’t Ashlyn. That they were bred to be loyal to Enlil. They had never held any love for humanity and they would be loyal to their creator. He couldn’t allow them to reinforce Enlil’s army.

Steven hit the button.

They all began to awaken as the oxygen tubes feeding them abruptly stopped. They all turned, looking at him. They pounded against the glass, drowning.

Steven wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen—but seeing the horror of their death twisted his stomach. He felt intensely sorry for them. He turned, not wanting to see their pain.

Continuing on his search for Phillip, he went deeper into the complex. It was near two more hours before he discovered Enlil’s living quarters. It was massively large and as lavish as he’d expected. His eyes fell upon a large stone bowl, perhaps six meters across in what would have been Enlil’s living room. Steven had to stand on his tiptoes to get a look over the rim, to see what was inside. His eyes went wide with terror and he screamed out in anguish. Though his stomach churned, he forced himself to look at the dismembered, half-eaten skeletal frame of a castrated male child that lay at the bottom of the bowl. It was a child Phillip’s size, with dark blonde hair like Phillip’s. Steven screamed as he thought of Phillip’s innocent face. “Forgive me, Renee. Please, forgive me, for not having brought him home to you!”

Inundated by his emotional pain, Steven slid to the ground, sobbing. He lay there, not knowing how to cope. He seethed with hatred. He pictured the look on Renee’s face, imagining the day when he had to tell her what happened. The loss was more than his grief stricken soul could bear and his mind sought relief in the depths of sleep.

When he awoke, though his heart was heavy with grief, he set off to find, Christie. As Steven turned back, throwing a last glance at the bowl, his anger raged. He turned into the dragon and incinerated everything.

Upstairs, back in his human form, Steven wandered through the throngs of people that were thinking of him as God, each wanting to touch him, each calling him, Enki. After having seen Phillip, the last thing Steven felt like was a god.

Steven went back to the original barracks where he had first met, Christie. Inside, a dozen humans were sitting on the floor, quietly conversing. “Christie,” said Steven putting his hand out at waist level. “Christie?”

A young man responded, “Christie! Christie!” His head bobbed, smiling. His arms waving, motioning for Steven to follow. Outside, the man led him to yet another building. Inside, the man rolled aside a large wooden barrel in the far corner of the room. Under the barrel, he pulled out several floorboards, revealing a narrow stairwell.

With a wide smile, the man urged Steven to follow him. Eventually, the narrow tunnel led them to a bluff that overlooked a small underground city. Word spread fast and by the time Steven reached the center proper, he was surrounded by hundreds of curious on-lookers, both human and even a few Neanderthal. His guide, after motioning for Steven to sit and wait, darted off into the crowd. People crowded round him, reaching out to touch him, smiling afterwards for having been so privileged.

The city was primitive and reminded Steven of the pirate city, Tortuga, that he had seen depicted in the old movies. He admired the people, for even under the watchful scrutiny of Enlil; they had managed to hew a city out of little more than mud and stone.

From somewhere up ahead, Steven heard the voice of his guide, telling the people to move. Steven stood. A moment later, his guide appeared and with a wide smile, presented Christie to him.

Dropping to one knee, Steven put his arms out to her.

The crowd was silent, sentimental.

Christie ran to him burying her face in his chest. They hugged tightly, letting their tears speak for them. Her embrace reminded him that he would never hold Phillip like this, again.

Finally, when he had gathered himself, “Christie? Ashlyn and I would like very much to have a little girl of our own. We’ve been hoping that you might come live with us. Do you think you would like that?”

Christie’s big eyes filled with tears as she nodded, yes.

They hugged each other tightly. It was if nothing else in the world existed.

A man approached. He had been patiently waiting, not wanting to interrupt. “Sir, my name is Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.”

“Is that you’re given name?”

“No, I was a geologist back on Earth. He was my favorite poet and since I’m familiar with all his works, well—it was sort of natural. Many of the people here like to hear his works. My given name though, is Erich Guerling.”

“Erich? From the moon? From Hoagland Cen-Comm?”

“Yes—do I know you?”

“Steven Sherrah. Admiral Sherrah. We-”

Steven never got to finish as Erich grabbed him and hugged him tightly. Tears streamed down his face. “My friend, I have thought of you often. I wondered if you were still alive. Do you have word of Earth? Did anyone survive?”

“A few—six thousand of us. We destroyed Enlil’s fleet a few months ago as well as his three destroyers when we arrived here. Earth is safe, for now—he doesn’t have any ships left.

“Do you remember the promise you made me?” said Erich. “You gave me your word that you would avenge us!”

Before Steven could reply, Erich added, “I’d say, you’re off to a good start.”

“Thank you, Erich. Is there anything you know that might help me defeat Enlil?”

“If he has weaknesses—they are unknown. He is very powerful. We have all heard about how he was hurt—a knife in the eye. That was the first weakness that anyone has ever seen.”

“Erich, where are all the guards? They’re gone.”

“They were killed, most of them anyway. When you were fighting with Enlil, the people rose-up, following Enki’s instructions. Many of our people were killed, but our numbers were great and we overcame the Igigi and his Elite Guards. When Enlil returned, he was angry as never before. He killed most everyone in the city above. After he left, we took them outside the city.”

“Why had they not always lived here, in safety?”

“If we were all to disappear, they would search for us, and find us. So long ago, the people here compromised, sending the old and weak to the city above. Those who are healthy and young, stay here—and in other underground cities around the planet, to live.

Their sacrifice ensures that we survive.

May I ask, Admiral—are you also Enki? You fit the description of the man who is said to have fought Enlil.”

Steven nodded.

“Everyone thinks Enki is a god. They say you have his ability to shift form?”

“Yes—that is a lonnng story.”

“And the woman who threw the knife? She is with you?”

“Yes. She’s fighting for her life right now, but I am hopeful.

Erich, how did you survive—you were out of air?”

“I was, but their ship got to me, bringing me aboard, before I was dead. After the carriers dropped the Uttu on Earth, they left orbit, bringing me here. The first weeks were the worst, but after they realized how little I knew, they turned me out to work.

The people brought me below. I’ve been here ever since.

I have a wife and two sons.”

Erich looked round, his eyes meeting those of the people around him, “The people here believe you are the promised Messiah. You are aware of the prophecy?”

“Prophecy? No.”

Erich smiled. “For thousands of years, it has been prophesied that a man named Enki would come. It is said that he is a man born from the ocean, but commands the stars. That he was once mortal, but is now bestowed with eternal life—wielding the power of the gods.”

Steven swallowed. The last thing he wanted to be was a fulfiller of prophecy, even if all the words did find meaning in him. “And what does it say happens to this Messiah?”

“That he will travel to Hadaesia to do battle with the serpent—and that in the end he must sacrifice himself if his people are to live.”

“I think that story has already been told.”

“It’s true, it is similar to our biblical version, but—the version which I have told you is the original version. It has not been convoluted as Earth’s version was.”

“I’m not a religious man, Erich. You have the wrong guy.”

“I don’t think so. The prophecy is not religious. Not here on Hades. It is merely the telling of a vision, written down by the Anunnaki long ago. It was Earth that formed religions based upon the tale. Not these people. We are not divided here by differing beliefs, nor are these people looking for selfish personal gain as our leaders and so-called men of faith on Earth were.

The story has been handed down generation after generation, not one of them daring to change a single word.”

Erich’s words spoke volumes. His saying that the prophecy had been a vision was very telling. And though Steven wasn’t ready to accept it as gospel, he capitulated to the will of the people. “So be it. If it’s a Messiah they want—they have it!”

Erich turned round to the crowd, and raising his arms into the air, shouted, “Enki, ta messiah dath commen!”

The crowd cheered wildly, throwing their arms into the air, dancing round in circles.

Shrugging his shoulders, Erich said, “The people are yours to command.”

Steven nodded. “The Serpent will be returning with a large army, you must instruct all who haven’t, to vacate the city above. Whomever Enki finds up there, he’ll kill. I’ll leave the where do I put everyone, in your hands.

I’ll take care of Enlil. He’s mine!

Erich, I have one other question for you. Why have the children, like Christie, not always been down here and kept safe? Why was she up above where Enlil could kill her?”

Erich exhaled a long breath. “Enlil takes-”

“You mean kills!” said Steven, cutting him off.

“Yes, Enlil kills—one child each seven days. It is his requirement. If we refuse, then he takes one hundred adults instead as punishment. I didn’t like it when I was brought here either. I never will, but it has been the way these people have survived for millennia. It’s similar to many ancient Earth civilizations, the Mayans, Aztecs and Incas.”

Kukulcan, Quetzalcoatl—feathered serpent, thought Steven. It was probably Enlil then, too. It all fits.

“They have turned it into an honor, a heritage of sacrifice in exchange for life. As for Christie, Enlil had long ago taken notice of her. She was pretty, healthy, female. If we had tried to hide her, he would have noticed. It was too late to bring her below.

Admiral, I don’t mean to defend the way they do things here—but it’s hard to hold to an ideal when you have someone as viciously ruthless as Enlil watching your every move.”

“I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand,” said Steven. “It’s a choice I hope I’ll never have to make. I don’t think I could.”

“As do I, my friend. I have two sons. Even though they live here below, I have to live with the guilt of those who do make the sacrifice.

I worry every time my sons become ill, that they will become one of the chosen and sent above.”

Steven’s eyes displayed his heartfelt empathy, “Goodbye, my friend. I hope to see you again,” said Steven.

Taking Christie’s hand, Steven headed topside. Back in the square, he needed to prepare Christie for what she was about to see. “Christie, I want you to know that I love you and that I would never hurt you. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because I do love you very much.” Steven poked her playfully in the belly button. She giggled for what was likely the first time in a long while. “I’m going to play a kind of game with you.”

“Are you going to change into something else?”

Children, they are always one-step ahead of you, thought Steven to himself. “You saw me change?”

“It was scary, but I knew that you weren’t bad like Enlil.”

“You’re right. The first time I changed form, it kind of scared me too. While I’m flying you home, I’ll tell you how I did it all right?”

“You’re going to fly with me?” a smile lit up her little face.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

She returned a hardy nod. Steven stepped away, giving himself room.

“Your dragon awaits, princess.” Steven lowered his neck for her, and Christie hopped on, “Hold on tight! Here we go!”

Christie was as excited as any child could be.

With her arms wrapped tightly around Steven’s neck, he carried her slowly into the air and headed home. She giggled in delight almost the entire way. Phillip would have loved this.

“Where do we live?”

“It’s like a castle with a beautiful garden.”

“A castle? Like the one Sleeping Beauty lived in?”

“Yup! We’ve got a butler, too.”

“What’s a butler?”

“A friend, a helper.”

“Where’s mom?” her not-so-subtle question shocked him.

“She’s not feeling so well right now and the butler is watching her until I get you home.”

“I’ll help mommy feel better!” Christie squeezed his neck and kissed him. The love of a child is unmatched.

A few minutes later, “There’s home!”

Her eyes went wide as she beheld the glistening diamond wall of the castle. Landing outside the wall, Steven changed form.

“Keeper, I have returned with my daughter.” In Steven’s eyes, Christie saw his love for her. Her hand tightened upon his.

“Enter, my children!”

Chapter 22

Four weeks later, Ash was still unconscious. Physically, she looked perfect, but The Keeper explained that though she might appear healthy outside, it was inside, that the real damage had been done. Steven hardly needed the Keeper to apprise him of her condition though, for as Ashlyn grew stronger, so had the life force within Steven returned and grown strong.

Steven used the time to train, to strategize, letting The Keeper guide him.

Christie was like a butterfly, spending much of her time fluttering about the garden, exploring. She’d even found a pet turtle that she’d named Max, after her father. The Keeper loved talking to her. He was genuinely intrigued by her innocent view of life.

Steven had often questioned The Keeper about Enlil’s extended absence, surprised that he had not yet returned. Nevertheless, when the day came that The Keeper notified him that Enlil’s ships were inbound to Hades, Steven felt nervous, anxious. He wished Ashlyn were at his side.

According to The Keeper, Enlil once again had a full complement of fighters and thousands of ground troops. He’d gathered every resource at his disposal.

Over the next week, Enlil’s forces began to build up in the valleys and on the mountainsides. Fighters made numerous strafing runs over Eden, occasionally laying down laser fire, seemingly just to be annoying. Belying Steven’s concerns, The Keeper assured Steven that the attacks had no effect on him.

Steven wasn’t so convinced though, over the last weeks, he’d noticed a decline of the bubbles in The Keeper’s blue containment tubes—and since the attack, it had the bubbles had lessened even  more, dramatically so. There was a subtle, sluggish, tiredness in his speech.

He needed a straight answer. It was the wrong time for a problem to be developing. “Keeper, I ask again what is happening to you? You are my friend and if you understand humans at all, then you must know that when you say don’t worry, that is precisely when we do worry.”

“That is not logical.”

“Not everything is logical. It is one of the things that makes being human, interesting. I demand an answer. I want to know what is happening to you?”

“My systems are decaying.”

“It’s Ashlyn, isn’t it? She’s receiving the regeneration instead of you?” Steven suddenly felt very selfish for not recognizing the sacrifice The Keeper was making.

“Yes.”

“You were wrong not to have told me. I wouldn’t have let you do it.”

“It was my choice.”

“Still, we should have discussed it.”

“Your answer would have been no. The bond you have with this woman is beyond all value. It was only a small risk to me and I made the choice, a choice that friends often make for friends.”

Steven winced, knowing he was right—it was often a choice that friends made for friends. “Keeper, I wish the Anunnaki were here to witness your selflessness.”

“I only did what I felt I must.”

“We need to get you well, Keeper. Can we remove the regenerator from Ashlyn for a while?”

“No. It cannot be removed until she is fully healed. To do so, at this point in time, would leave her with permanent damage.”

“Do you have the reserves to withstand the continuing attacks?”

“I have reserves, but my decaying functions are not distributing the energy properly.”

“Is there any way that I can repair them?”

“I wish there were, but, no.”

“Then there’s no choice, I must face Enlil now!”

Without warning, a jarring blast shook the valley violently. Everything around Steven stirred to life. Machines, big and small, began to race round the room. Electrical panels surged, lit dials that held no meaning to Steven spun in odd patterns, running millions of calculations a second. A dozen computer holos came to life—the Keeper shifted through hundreds of screens, redistributing power and resources to where it was needed most. The hum of surging energy rose, pulsing through the complex.

A large cracking sound reverberated through the wall, followed by a groan. Above, the ceiling shifted fluidly, sending molecular resources to form structural supports where they were needed. The noise had awakened Christie in her bed nearby and she came running, jumping into Steven’s arms. A thundering shudder rumbled beneath their feet as blast after blast assaulted them.

“Enlil’s heavy assault vehicles are laying siege to the wall. He stands outside, taunting you to face him. He challenges you for the right to own The Sword of Truth.”

“I have to give him credit; he does know how to make an entrance.”

“Lord Steven, you cannot take on his forces by yourself?”

“We don’t have a choice. Besides, at this point—there isn’t anything more that I can do to prepare.” Steven took a moment to explain to Christie why he had to leave, finishing it with a big hug.

Exiting through the wall, he found Enlil waiting for him on the other side.

With a raised hand, Enlil called for a ceasefire.

As The Keeper had shown him weeks earlier, in recounting the Anunnaki historical timeline—Enlil in his true form had flowing white hair, silver-blue eyes, like Steven’s own, and light skin. His long white robe was meticulously spotless.

Steven clenched his teeth. “You shall die this day, Enlil.”

“I like you, Tin Man! You make me laugh. After I’ve killed you, I shall hang your skin in my palace, so that I may look at it and remember how funny you were.

But I am kindly, forgiving, and I offer you one last chance to do obeisance to me? That—or you will die like your whore.”

Steven caught sight of a meteor streaking through the night sky. It was a fitting symbol for the battle over humanity’s future to begin.

Steven took an aggressive posture; his legs spread wide, his fists raised.

“Then let the challenge for the Sword of Truth, begin. Should he win, he will become your leader. You shall not harm him. Such is the way of the Anunnaki,” said Enlil to the forces behind him.

Enlil changed form, again becoming the Griffin. Drawing in a large breath, Enlil lit up the night sky. Bright and yellow flames danced around Steven, not affecting him. His clothes were on fire, smoldering.

Steven had learned from The Keeper that the larger the form was, the less dense, the molecular structure. It was the reason Ashlyn’s knife had managed to hurt Enlil in his snake form. The reverse was also true. In Steven’s smaller form, he was resistant to things such as the flame. Enlil of course knew this, but his actions were meant to instill fear, not to kill.

Steven began laughing at the Griffin, inciting his wrath. Enlil dove at Steven, claws extended. Steven dodged, rolling easily off to the side, and like a bull fighter, gave a loud, “Toro!

You look foolish Enlil. In your arrogance, you have actually come to believe in your own lies, thinking that you are God. Enki saw this flaw in you, and now, even insolent humans have surpassed you.”

“I will eat you bit by bit, while I keep you alive to watch—you are not an Anunnaki. You are defiled, an unclean abomination.”

Steven picked up a rock. After tossing it casually into the air a couple of times and catching it, he threw it at Enlil. It bounced off Enlil’s chest harmlessly.

“Are you so foolish, Tin Man. Do you think such things will hurt me?”

“Then why are you afraid of me?” Steven asked.

“I, afraid of you? What foolishness do you speak?”

“If you are not afraid, then take the form of an Anunnaki. Let us fight like the Anunnaki great ones of long ago. Let us fight with our hands! I give you my word I shall not change form before you do.”

“So be it! It will be interesting to feel your neck snap when I break it.” Enlil then changed into the naked form of Ashlyn. “Is this Anunnaki enough?”

Steven suddenly felt a lump in his throat. It seemed sacrilegious.

In seeing Steven’s consternation, “How pathetic you creatures are! You still mourn the loss of your whore.” Then with lightning speed, Enlil in Ashlyn’s form vaulted toward him, giving Steven a roundhouse kick to the mid-section. Enlil swiveled round preparing for a second strike.

Steven ducked below his right cross, delivering a knee to Enlil’s stomach. Enlil winced in pain. Steven had to remind himself that it was not really Ashlyn, that it was only a guise.

“You were right, I am enjoying this. I can hardly wait to pull you apart, piece by piece.” Ashlyn’s visual image, combined with her voice was as malignant as cancer. For the briefest instant, it stole Steven’s sense of reason. Enlil somersaulted forwards and did a backflip, which launched him over Steven’s head, where he landed on the ground behind him. A leg sweep brought Steven crashing to the ground. A second, downward leg kick to his abdomen, robbed him of his breath.

As Enlil rose, squaring his stance, “At least give me a challenge, hybrid.”

Feinting a rise from the ground, Steven gave a returning leg sweep that caught Enlil off-guard and brought him to the ground, facedown.

“Finally, he plays!” Enlil bellowed as a small trickle of blood escaped the corner of his lip.

Over the next minutes, the two of them gave exchanging blows, intermingled with hand-to-hand grappling for dominance. Steven got a momentary advantage and brought Enlil’s arm down across his knee, breaking it backwards, Enlil reeled away in pain. A strange, gray bubbling fluid spurted from his severed arteries. “Enough of this, I tire of you.” He then became molten and turned into an exact replica of Steven.

“You are a coward, Enlil! You have broken the agreement.”

Unexpectedly, from the thousands of guards behind Enlil, who had moved closer to watch the battle, came the sound of coughing and gagging cries of garbled pain. Thousands of shrill screams could be heard as Enlil’s army began to collapse to the ground.

Enlil gazed upon the horror around him, watching his warriors turn into dissolving heaps of oozing mush to the ground.

“What sorcery is this?” said Enlil, as he turned to look at Steven.

Only a second passed before Steven understood what was happening. The meteor he had seen minutes before had been one of Defender’s missiles carrying the virus that Renee and Victor must have succeeded in finding.

“No sorcery, Enlil! Just some good old-fashioned human ingenuity. You’re finished, Enlil—my warships have arrived and they have seeded every world in this system with a plague designed to destroy your monster children.”

“Not all, human!” With a waving arm, Enlil signaled his ship that was hovering high above and behind him, to destroy the wall. It cut loose with a devastating attack upon the wall. Lasers scorched the wall with every touch. Volley after volley of missiles raced away from her.

In that moment where Steven was distracted, he was given a hard blow in the face that sent him tumbling. Rising slowly from the staggering blow, Steven shook his head, trying to gather his wits. Throwing a quick glance up the valley to the wall, he saw that it was cracking.

Calling upon all the rage within him, he pictured his dead son—he envisioned all the billions of Earth’s dead. He recalled the pain of seeing Ashlyn sliced open by Enlil and the glee with which Enlil had done it.

Rising to his feet, with a mighty scream of encompassing all the rage within him, Steven charged at Enlil, engaging him in hand-to-hand combat.

Steven knew that time was against him, that the heavy pounding being given to the wall was going to bring it crashing down, atop Ashlyn and Christie.

It was then that the Cherubim came walking out through the wall. Their wings opened wide and they flew across the valley to Enlil’s hovering ship. Their swords hummed, radiating massive amounts of raw power as they shone with all the brilliance of a sun. They struck quickly, their swords slicing through the ship’s shields with unbelievable ease. Her hull ripped open like a shattered melon allowing the virus to enter her.

Her crew dying, the ship no longer under control, she rose high into the air before she began to list to the side and then, in a steep, slicing descent, headed back to the ground. A violent concussion rocked the valley as the vessel exploded on the other side of the ridgeline of mountains. The noise was near deafening and the mountains were set ablaze, turning the night sky a bright orange.

Enlil gasped in horror.

The Cherubim flew to stand behind Steven. The hum of energy pulsing through their swords vibrated through the ground to his feet. “As I told you, Enlil. Your time is at an end.”

“You are confident, because the Guardians stand ready to rush to your aid.”

Steven nodded to Enlil. “Guardians, I ask that you do not interfere! Should he win, I order that you let him go to live in peace, contingent that he causes no more trouble for any other people, ever again!”

They bowed their heads in acknowledgment.

“Satisfied?” asked Steven.

“I am!” Enlil then changed into the form of Phillip. “I thought so!” said Enlil reading the dismay on Steven’s face. “I wish I had known he was your son, when I ate him! He would have tasted so much better.”

Steven’s stomach churned.

“Even with his last breath, he had your look of rebellion in his eyes,” Enlil added.

Steven’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Enlil saw his moment, and quickly changing into his cobra form, confidently reared back. Lunging forward, he grasped Steven in his mouth and bit down, snapping Steven’s ribs. The snake’s head shot upwards, tipped so that he could swallow him.

As gravity pulled Steven’s broken body inside, he knew he had won.

Liquefying, Steven let his free-flowing form slide down, deep inside Enlil’s gullet. Steven then changed form into a lion.

Enlil, stood unmoving in shocked silence, unsure of what had just happened. Steven began clawing, tearing away at Enlil’s internal organs, shredding his soft tissue and muscles. Even amid Enlil’s shrill shrieks, Steven could hear Enlil’s loudly beating heart.

From outside, Enlil’s eyes were wide. He was panicked, unsure of what to do. Enlil stared down at his own belly, watching it rise, move, and ripple, as Steven tore him apart.

As Steven had promised, he had succeeded in making Enlil understand the horror, fear and panic that his victims had felt.

Steven gave a long, loud lion’s roar. The sound reverberated inside Enlil as if it were being piped out by a cathedral organ.

Steven was a flurry of movement, his claws and teeth, ripping and tearing away everything his claws touched, until he reached Enlil’s heart.

He then changed back into his human form. Covered in blood and shred entrails, Steven grasped Enlil’s large heart, and tore it out. Arteries spurted, slathering Steven in Enlil’s vile blood even as it continued to beat in his hands.

Before Steven had changed out of his lion’s form, he’d made a long slice down Enlil’s belly, and it was through that slit that Steven now found his way out.

Enlil lay collapsed on the ground, dead—all but for his eyes that were still glued to the heart beating within Steven’s hands. “I’d warned you Enlil! Now, I damn you to eternal hell.” Steven then crushed Enlil’s heart, letting the blood sanctify the ground in sacrificial penance.

A tiny human-like smile pursed Enlil’s lips as he took his last breath and the fire in his eyes died. In death, Enlil changed form, again becoming the tall, white-haired Anunnaki form that was natural to him.

Steven fell to his knees. “I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry, I couldn’t save you.” His tears fell as he pictured Phillip’s face, remembering the last hug he’d had inside the cave.

Turning to the Cherubim, “Are you able to take Enlil’s body, and throw it into the lake of fire, the place outside the walls of the Great Pyramid where they dispose of the human bodies?”

“If that is your command, Lord Steven?”

Steven nodded, “It is!”

One of the Cherubim then stepped forwards and picked up Enlil’s dead body. His wings unfolded and he lifted off, heading in the direction of the Citadel. It was as fitting an end for Enlil as any Steven could imagine.

“Steven?” A soft feminine voice called out from inside Steven’s mind.

“Ash! You’re awake!” Tears began to fill his eyes. “Enlil is dead, Ash. We did it.”

“Can you come to me?”

“Yes.” After a brief moment at the stream to clean himself, Steven ran to see Ashlyn. Upon entering the room within the wall, Christie ran and jumped into his arms. Behind her, he saw Ash sitting up on the regen table. She was unclothed and as beautiful as ever.

In a tight embrace, their mouths locked in a deep hard kiss, Steven and Ashlyn were drawn away by a giggle from Christie. It brought a smile to both their faces.

“It’s over Ash, Enlil’s gone, and so is his-” It was in that instant that Steven truly realized that Defender had arrived and that they had a ride home. His eyes spoke what his heart could not.

Ashlyn’s head dropped and tears began to fall.

“What’s wrong, mom,” asked Christie.

After giving a gentle, but tearful smile to Christie, she turned to Steven. “My love, I’ve always known that this day might come. You don’t need to explain.”

“Ash, I’ve told you, denying you is the same as denying my own existence.”

“Some things are bigger than us. You have a family,” she whispered. “Go, greet Defender. Christie and I have some things to talk about.”

Instead, with a broken spirit, Steven went to speak privately with The Keeper, at the tree, deep inside the garden.

“What is wrong, Lord Steven? Why are you not with Lady Ashlyn?”

Steven told The Keeper, everything. He talked of loyalty, of love, of sacrifice. He explained how Ashlyn was taking the burden off his shoulders—of his heart and how he could not live without her.

***

Steven awoke the next morning beneath the glowing tree.

“Keeper?”

“Yes, Lord Steven.”

“Did you put me to sleep again?”

“No, that was from your own exhaustion and pain. Lord Steven, Admiral Brooks awaits you outside the wall.”

Stepping through the wall, Steven found Brooks waiting patiently, sitting atop a boulder. With an embrace, they exchanged their heartfelt greetings.

“I’ve got a surprise for you! Renee’s here, Sandee too. They’re with Ashlyn.”

Anxiety clashed headlong with sorrow, joy with loss and hope with ill-fated destiny. Steven felt as though a mule had just kicked him in the gut. “Damn—then you must know already that Phillip is dead. I’d wanted to be the one to break it to Renee.”

“Dead? He’s not d-” said Brooks.

“Dad!” Steven turned to see Phillip running toward him, a very alive Lieutenant Tomlinson walking behind him.

“You’re alive!” Steven screamed, his voice cracking in disbelief, tears of joy filling his eyes as he spun Phillip in circles.

“Tomlinson rescued him a few weeks ago. They’ve been hiding out in the desert with a small group of nomads that Tomlinson had hooked up with earlier,” said Brooks. “And just so you know, Phillip has already received the regen treatments. He’s fixed, no pun intended. I’d assumed Ashlyn had told you!”

“I haven’t seen Ashlyn today.” Steven couldn’t take his eyes off Phillip, shocked and overjoyed that his son was alive. After giving Tomlinson a tight hug for having saved his son, Steven acknowledged Tomlinson’s loss, “I’m sorry—about Paris.”

“Thank you, Admiral. She was—an amazing woman.”

After nodding in agreement. “Thank you again for Phillip, Tomlinson. You remind me a lot of your father. If not for his foresight, we wouldn’t be here today. He’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“And, sir. If I may …” He hugged Steven. “That was for me. All these years, you’ve been there for me. Without you …” he shook his head. “My father would be proud of what you’ve done for my mother and I. Thank you. You’ve been a second father to me.”

Steven squeezed his arm in acknowledgement, “I have one more thing to give you—a Gift.” Steven’s quizzical look intrigued Tomlinson.

“You too Brooks, there’s something I want both of you to have.” Turning to Phillip, “Phillip, have you seen mom yet?”

“Yeah, she’s with Ash. They’ve been talking all night. Mom was crying, Ashlyn too.

Dad? I lost Ashlyn’s Balalaika. I haven’t told her yet.”

“She won’t care, believe me—she won’t care!”

“Sir,” said Brooks. “I have something to tell you too. We were forced to abandon Sea Base. Everyone, all of the personnel from Sea Base is aboard Defender. Earth was literally shaking itself apart. We watched from orbit as the Yellowstone caldera blew. And that was just the beginning. There aren’t words to describe what we saw.

If we’d stayed, we all would have died,” said Brooks.

“You’re alive, that’s all that matters,” affirmed Steven.

Chapter 23

Two hours later after having given the Water of Life to Brooks, Phillip and Tomlinson, they exited the Garden and hopped on the shuttle, heading back to Defender.

Outside the city, thousands of people, both human and not so human had gathered around the landed ship. Many were praying to the vessel, others offering bits of food and water to the crew as they exited. To them, the arrival of Defender was the arrival of Enki’s forces. Enki had answered their prayers and rescued them. Out of respect, the people gave Steven, their Messiah, a wide birth, bowing as he walked among them.

Steven took a seat on a rock outside Defender’s mammoth open shuttle bay door that the crew was using as the main entrance in and out of the ship.

“Hesitant to go in?” said Brooks.

“I feel like I’m waiting to go to the gallows. It’s a can’t win situation.”

“You’ve been in lots of those. Somehow, you always manage to escape by the short-hairs.”

Steven chuckled.

Suddenly the girls—Ashlyn, Renee, Sandee and Christie came walking out shoulder to shoulder, giggling like the best of friends. “Steven!” Renee screamed as she spotted him and began running toward him.

As Renee bounded toward him, Steven saw Ashlyn take Christie’s hand and turn away, leaving him to be alone with his family. Steven’s thoughts darted back and forth, from his exhilaration over seeing Renee, to how strange it was to see the two of them so chummy. Something just felt odd about it.

After a slew of hugs, things began to calm. When Renee resisted Steven’s kiss, it seemed a small sign of his yet unspoken fate. Sandee was a joy to hold, and as she affirmed that he wasn’t going to disappear, she bounded off to play with Phillip and Christie, leaving him and Renee to talk, alone.

“I bet you’ve probably been sitting here on pins and needles, haven’t you? Steven, can we take a shuttle to Eden? We need to talk, and it’ll be easier for me to tell you what I’ve got to say, there.”

In the garden, they walked hand in hand, finally taking a seat upon a rock by the edge of the stream. Steven’s elation at seeing her was ebbing away, as he sensed that what she was going to say was going to be painful.

“I’ve missed you more than you’ll ever know,” she started. The deep pain in her voice spoke of a shattered love.

“Renee, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you,” Steven’s tears welled, matching Renee’s.

“Please Steven; I need to say this, while I still have the courage. Back at Sea Base, there was an accident. I dropped a test vial, Liberator 159. It was an early version of the final mutated virus. Probably no more than a drop splashed onto my lips.” Her head lowered, her voice trembling like her hands, her tears flowing. “I have two, maybe three months left to live.”

Steven began shake, unable to stop.

“I needed—to get Sandee to you. I wanted her to be here with you, before—before I passed. She doesn’t know yet. No one knows but you, Ashlyn and Brooks.”

Steven enfolded her within his arms as her voice weakened. He wished he could trade his own life for her’s. Her words rent a hole in his heart that was now a fathomless void of pain. “Maybe The Keeper-”

“No—Ash and I came here late last night and-”

“You came here last night and didn’t wake me?”

“I needed to talk to Ash first. We had a lot to discuss.

But, Steven, please, let me finish. We spoke with The Keeper. His scans showed that every cell in my body has been infected, mutated. My DNA structure cannot be repaired. The accident was a silly mistake. Victor and I had been working round the clock to find the virus and I was so tired—I dropped the vial.”

“The Keeper is certain that he can’t help?” Steven questioned again.

“He could slow it, but he can’t stop it. I don’t want the treatments though, it will be tough enough on the children as it is, they don’t need to see me slowly, withering away.

Ashlyn has agreed to help you with the children for the next couple of months. I want to spend my last weeks with you, here.” Her eyes lifted to gaze upon the valley. “This place is so beautiful, Steven. This, is where I want to die,” she gripped Steven’s shaking hands tightly.

Steven’s shattered heart ached. His mind rebelled, wanting to reverse the hands of time.

***

With help from Tomlinson and Brooks, Steven built a small, prefabricated house and placed it within Eden at the top of the knoll that looked down into the valley. Though intimate contact between them wasn’t possible, their love and appreciation for one another, deepened moment by moment.

The last weeks took a devastating toll on Steven, as he was forced to watch Renee’s hair turn gray and the color of her skin turn ashen. The vibrant life in her eyes dimmed a tiny bit each day and her strength waned.

Ashlyn sat with Renee several hours each day, not only making sure that Renee’s needs were attended to, but also giving Steven the time necessary to spend with the children—and get some much needed rest.

In the final days, as Renee began to slip away, she and Ashlyn were inseparable. They spent much of their time together, alone in private, serious conversation—but it was also a time of lightheartedness as Steven overheard them frequently laughing—Renee telling stories of Steven’s youthful shenanigans at the Academy. They used the time to draw close, to bond, and Steven was happy that Renee had such a friend.

On a cool summer evening, as the suns were setting below the mountains, Renee asked Steven to leave the room—needing a final private moment with Ashlyn. Only minutes passed, before Ashlyn calmly and quietly came to get him.

Kneeling beside her bed, Steven’s eyes filled with tears.

“I love you with all my heart, Steven,” her feeble voice uttered as her frail hand tightened around his. “And more than anything I don’t want you to grieve for me—or feel guilt.” She inhaled deeply, the act of taking a single breath, draining her of strength. Her voice grew faint. “I’ve been blessed with two beautiful children and the love of a kindly man.

My last request is that you give the love you have given me, to Ashlyn. I like her, Steven. She’ll be a good wife to you and a good mother to our children.” Her grip abruptly tightened as she experienced a stab of pain. “It will now be through her eyes that I will see my son turn into a man and the day when our daughter marries—and I will see you happy again,” her eyes closed. Struggling to reopen, “call Ashlyn, now!”

Steven turned round to see Ash standing in the doorway. She quietly moved round to the other side of the bed and knelt at Renee’s side. With more strength than Steven thought Renee had remaining in her, she tore her hand from his and reached over to grasp Ashlyn’s palms. Their eyes locked, Ashlyn’s eyes closed. Renee took a last gasping sigh of breath and exhaled. Her chest did not rise again. When Steven looked back to Renee’s ashen face, he saw that her eyes had closed.

He bent over, kissed her forehead, and then buried his face in hers, as the grief in his broken heart overwhelmed him.

She had been his friend, his lover, his wife.

***

Early the next morning, rays of sun breaking through the branches of the white-flowered tree that had given Steven and Ashlyn their Gift of Knowledge, Steven dug Renee’s grave. There beside the little house atop the knoll, beneath a layer of stones, she would have a memorial for all time. It had been Renee’s favorite view of the valley’s great beauty. Upon his knees, he thanked her for the love she had brought into his life, and for the children that she had given him. He promised her that he would protect them, and raise them in a manner that would make her proud. Placing a single red rose atop her grave, he wept.

***

Later that day, as Steven went in search of Ashlyn, he found that she had left Eden. It was only after he’d spoken to Brooks, that he’d discovered that she’d asked to borrow a transport for a few days and flown away. She had asked Brooks to trust her, giving him no details as to where she was going, or when she would return.

Three days later—before the sun had even risen, Ashlyn came and dragged Steven out of bed, reluctant to give him a moment to slip on his clothes.

She’d even brought along a sleepy-eyed nurse from Defender’s crew, to babysit. Taking Steven by the hand, she led him to a Dolphin transport.

“You have to wear this!” she said, pulling out a black, cloth blindfold from her jeans pocket. “Or you don’t get your surprise!”

Minutes later, he heard the twang of the skids as they lowered into position and touched down. As Steven began to reach for his blindfold, Ash swatted his hand, “Not until I tell you!” The transport’s door opened with its accompanying purr. “Don’t take it off until I call you, and no cheating.”

Listening intently, he heard the sound of the wind rustling through the branches of nearby trees.

“Steven, you can come out now,” came the call in his mind.

Ripping off the blindfold, he bounded to the door.

To his left was a vacuous desert, but to his right, lay the oasis that Ashlyn and he had discovered on their sojourn. Each step toward the water raised his anxiousness. His eyes locked upon the waterfall, and almost as if it were on cue, Ashlyn’s hand reached out, and with her middle finger, she beckoned him.

A heavy gust of wind rustled the branches. A few leaves dropped. Steven shed his clothing and waded into the pond. As her hand disappeared, he dove under the fall, reappearing on the other side. As he swept his hair back, he saw Ash, bare shouldered and submerged up to her collarbone. The glints of shimmering cleavage below the rippling surface was entrancing. A sexier smile upon her, he had never seen.

“What’s all this about?”

Ashlyn smiled sweetly, “Let me explain. Please—keep an open mind.

That first night when Defender arrived, Renee requested to speak with me privately. The vision she’d had back at Sea Base, told her far more about our future than she’d let on.

She had seen her death, here on Hades. The grave you and I saw in the vision was hers. It was her that you were weeping for.

More importantly, she saw my empathic abilities, and you and I having this conversation. From it, she learned that the three of us had a mutual destiny. That was why she was content and settled, when you and I said goodbye to her at Sea Base.

When she told me about the accident and her sickness—I began to formulate a solution. When I mentioned my idea, she said she already knew. She had seen it in our future. She made it clear that I was not required to help, and that I had a choice. But, in all honesty, it was perfect for her, for me, for you—for us.

So, together, Renee and I agreed upon a course of action that would see us through to completion. That’s the reason that Renee and I spent so much time together during her last weeks.”

“I’m not following you, Ash. What are you talking about?”

Ashlyn took a half step back, wanting to give him room to reflect, “Renee and Ashlyn, each decided to sacrifice their own individual identities in order to become one, new individual. They were two individual threads that found they could be woven together, becoming both different and stronger than they were before.

When Renee’s body died, it no longer contained her consciousness. Renee is inside me, as Ashlyn is inside me.

Their duality of memories are now my memories. Their love, desire, emotions, passion, knowledge, even their cravings—all of it is me, a new individual. I am a singular person, a new person created by the two of them.

That’s why I’ve been gone these last days—I needed time to integrate. I needed to be alone—and have quiet.”

Steven was astounded—he’d never dreamed that such a thing was possible.

“Do you remember Renee’s last words to you?” asked Ashlyn.

Steven nodded, “It will now be through her eyes that I will see my son turn into a man and the day when our daughter marries.”

Ash adding, “And when I will see you happy again.”

“I didn’t realize she was being literal. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Ashlyn crinkled her nose impishly. “Renee wanted to spare you from disappointment, if it didn’t work to the depth we’d hoped.”

“So—do I call you Ashlyn or Renee?”

“I prefer Ashlyn, since my physical appearance is hers.’ It will also make it easier on the children. Maybe someday, we can tell them.

If you need time to take this all in, I’ll understand. The concept is not an easy one to accept, but know that I love you as never before, for the love I carry, is the love borne by the two of them.”

Steven was still for only a moment before he drew Ashlyn close, “It’s wonderful, Ash. What you did for Renee, for me—beyond self-sacrificing.” When her arms wrapped round his neck, he gave her a long, hard kiss, his touch making her feel secure in the decision. His hands grabbed her buttocks, pulling her tight.

Feeling his erection throbbing against her belly, she slid her hand between their bodies and grabbed him, “You have no idea how desperately I want to suck you right now—it’s hard to explain, because while I have their memories and cravings, I have none that are unique to me, to the person that I am now. I know everything, but don’t feel like I’ve experienced anything.”

“I can barely understand the concept, let alone the logistics,” said Steven. “So it doesn’t surprise me.”

“I don’t understand all of it either. It’s virgin territory.

Speaking of virgin territory—there is something I’d like to do which is a first for both of us. It might be a good place to start,” said Ashlyn with vigor.

“This will be interesting,” said Steven, his curiosity peaked.

Ashlyn turned round, and teasingly wiggled her buttocks against him. Leaning her back atop his shoulder, she took his hands and put them on her breasts. She moved his hands round, letting him feel her slippery nipples moving against the palm of his hands.

He watched the droplets of water blending, forming heavy trickles that ran around and between her cleavage.

Sliding his hands to her hips, she leaned forward, placing her face and shoulders against the smooth boulders, her hands bracing her wide stance. Her back dipped, the motion forcing the cant of her buttocks sharply upwards to him—her pose begged him to enter her.

Water from the falls was trailing down her back. Mist landing atop both of them. Her hair was wet, stringy—erotic.

He stared at the plumped swells surrounding her shaven pussy, a perfection of symmetry. As he was watching, Ashlyn reached between her legs, and touched her clit. She moved with finesse, her breath heaving, her voice sighing to every stroking touch.

She was ready to be taken, rapaciously.

Steven’s hands were atop her hips, holding her fast as he began prodding her, “Wrong hole … go higher.”

Steven gulped.

Ever so gently, so as not to hurt her, Steven pushed. Little by little, he could feel her loosening, each time the tip of his cock going a tiny bit deeper. Ashlyn gasped with each push.

Steven was unsure of it was a gasp of pain or pleasure. All he knew is that she wasn’t asking him to stop. The more she widened, the louder her gasping sigh.

Several minutes passed, before he felt the head of his cock slip fully inside her. “Fuck, it’s so tight—but damned, it feels good.”

“Fuck yes, it feels good,” said Ash, aggressively. “Go deeper.”

“You swore. I knew I could get you to say that word!”

“Shut the f-up and go deeper,” she gasped. “Faster—faster!”

Steven smiled, but go deeper and faster, he did. He was sliding, rocking back and forth, thrusting deep. He’d never known that she had specialized muscles there too.

Reaching back, she took his hand and brought it round, placing his fingers atop her clit. Together, their dual fingers stroked her.

Her panting gasps were loud, ragged. She was ready.

Steven reached further, slipping two of his fingers inside her empty, hot pussy. Ash trembled in response, her legs nearly collapsing.

With just a few more thrusts—Ash lowered the veil, allowing them to have a vigorous, simultaneous orgasm that was unequaled.

With one of Steven’s hand having a death grip upon her breast, the fingers of the other inside her, his cock buried deep—he came inside her. To each pulse, Ashlyn’s muscles coaxed his orgasm, as did his throbbing releases, coax hers.

Ash straightened, throwing her head back atop his shoulder. “That was sooo—amazing!”

“Yes, it was. Is there nothing you can’t do, Ash?” as he slid out of her.

“Guess we’ll find out. Ready for round two?” said Ash, as she turned round and grabbed his scrotum firmly in her hand.

Kneeling, Ash tenderly circled the tip of his shaft with kisses, before engulfing him.

He winced, trembling in response. Steven’s hands were resting atop her head, encouraging her, as she took him deep.

Under the falls, their minds melded. Their passions blazed.

For the new Ashlyn, she now felt her own craving to taste him, to feel him throbbing between her lips, inside her mouth. She couldn’t stop, but neither did she want to. He was right where she wanted him to be. Ashlyn’s mouth finessed him, enabling him to release himself endlessly for what felt like hours. His gasps of pleasure carried him aloft to a place wherein only the gods had been allowed to dwell.

The two of them felt blessed to feel such passion, and knowing that it was eternal was a reward without compare.

Late in the day, their minds as worn out as their bodies, they lay quietly upon the silver thermal blanket, Ashlyn cuddled tightly at his side. Steven thought of the strange circumstances that had made it possible for his life to change in so many ways.

Together, they stared upwards at the beauty of the three rising moons which radiated brightly despite the late afternoon sky. The sight was breathtaking.

Deep in thought, they both realized how much they were going to miss Earth’s moon. It had been the inspiration of mystery, romance and man’s quest for knowledge for countless ages.

“Steven, I’d wanted to ask you—how do you throw the energy orbs?”

He chuckled. “I really don’t know, either. I just knew that I could. Tynabo should have included an instruction manual for us,” teased Steven. “All I know is that what you do to me is mystical.”

“Well—since you brought up, mystical?” she teased, her fingernail stroking him. “I have one more surprise to show you.”

As her touch aroused him, Ash interjected, “Not that kind of surprise. Come on, we have to go!” Ash bounded to her feet. “Come on bum—you showed me how to navigate by the stars, now I’m going to show you the universe!”

They boarded the shuttle and lifted off. Steven sat in the co-pilots chair as Ashlyn began to explain, “There was something in the vision back at Sea Base that I’d not been able to explain. It was me standing before The Keeper, speaking with him in private—a conversation that I’ve now had.

I was asking him about the three circular symbols, the orbs upon the Cherubim’s pedestal. My question triggered the revelation of one last secret that he was holding back.

He was really excited to have gotten the question and he said it was his final Gift for us.”

“Where are we going?” asked Steven, wondering where Ashlyn was taking him.

“That’s a really big question,” said Ash, the gleaming twinkle in her eyes denoting that she wasn’t going to tell him.

As the shuttle made a sudden turn, aiming them at the nearest of the three moons, realization dawned, “The three moons—they are the three orbs?”

“And I bet you always snuck a peak at your Christmas presents too, didn’t you?” said Ashlyn.

Seeing Steven’s grin. “I thought so!”

“That’s why the Keeper couldn’t track us sometimes,” said Steven. “His sensors are on the moons. It’s so obvious. I should have realized it. How are we for EPS suits if we need them?”

“We have them, but we won’t need them,” answered Ash.

Flipping a switch to open a channel. “Defender, this is Admiral Sherrah, aboard the Dolphin transport, Mayorta. I’m taking Commander Parker on a short sightseeing trip. No need to be concerned. We’ll be back shortly.”

“Aye, Admiral! Enjoy the ride!”

“Did you detect a pun in there?” asked Steven.

Ashlyn just smiled.

Ashlyn hit the thrusters bringing up the speed of the Dolphin.

It wasn’t long before they were approaching the nearest moon. “Scans are negative. No energy outputs, no structures, no bulk alloy composites,” said Steven.

“Well, Eden doesn’t show up on the planetary scanner either,” commented Ashlyn. “Let’s make a lower pass.” Ashlyn’s piloting skills were impressive. She nosed the craft down so that they were bobbing and dipping just meters above the surface. As they moved around to the backside, weaving round craters and spires, and small canyons, Steven tensed a bit.

Ashlyn never slowed—it was as if she knew the terrain intimately.

“Ash—I’ve got it. Circle round the northern hemispheres 19.5 degrees latitude as viewed from Hades.”

“Constructing grid—locking in.” Pulling the nose of the Dolphin up sharply, exiting over a canyon wall, she turned them round. “Thirty second ETA.”

Moving along Steven’s coordinates, it wasn’t long before a bright beacon of light pierced the darkness before them. It emanated from a small cluster of stacked stones that stood like a fossilized sentinel. The skids of the Dolphin transport touched down beside it—“Praise the lord! We’ve been shown the light!” Ash rendered in her best Southern Baptist Minister’s impression.

“An alarm chimed.” Steven studied the readouts. “Gravity is strengthening—a full atmosphere is developing.”

As they waited, staring out the forward window, a small outpost shimmered into existence. They watched as the familiar blue canopy, like the one that enclosed Eden, enveloped the outpost, covering it from end to end. Pulsing yellow lights in the ground appeared, outlining the walking path they were to follow.

The alarmed chimed. “We have full atmosphere,” said Steven.

“Think of what a great caterer The Keeper would make, Steven. He can blend a drink that gives eternal life, prepare a food that gives you the power to shape-shift and turn a desolate moon’s outpost into an oxygen-rich habitat, all in two minutes flat.”

Steven agreed. “The Keeper is impressive.”

Ashlyn pressed the green button on her console that opened the side hatch door. Exiting to the ground, they were greeted by The Keeper’s familiar voice. “Welcome, my friends. Follow the lights to my command center, where I may share with you the grand future that awaits you.”

Along the path, they passed by several smaller, windowless buildings, most of which were arrayed with large antennae.

The path ended at the largest of the nine buildings. As they neared it, a small portion of the wall dissolved. Stepping inside the dark room, it illuminated, revealing two very ordinary looking pedestal chairs in the center.

“Enter, my friends.”

“What is this place?” said Steven as he took note that the wall again sealed seamlessly behind them.

“You would call it an orientation room. Please be seated.”

Sitting, the room dimmed into darkness. Before them a blue shimmering containment field appeared. Coalescing in the center of the field was the figure of a youthful looking man, hands folded together, his head bowing in respect. It was The Keeper, in the image of an Anunnaki. He wore the standard white robe, and had white hair with silver-blue eyes.

“Hello, Lord Steven and Lady Ashlyn. What questions do you wish answered?”

“I haven’t told him anything yet. I left that for you, Keeper. It was always your Gift to give,” chirped Ashlyn.

“It is my Gift, for both of you,” corrected The Keeper. “This place is designed to guide you, allowing you to move on to the next phase.”

“Next phase?” said Steven.

“Perhaps it would be best, if I showed you.” The walls of the room sprang vividly to life, surrounding them in scenic beauty. “Does this place look familiar to you?”

“It’s Eden,” said Ash.

“It is, but it is not. You see, this place is not on the world below us. The Eden that you know is merely a small representation, a likeness of that which you see before you. What you see here, is on the planet, Heaven. This is the Anunnaki home world.

They hold out to you, the offer to live with them!”

“On the world that you’re showing us?” asked Steven.

“Yes, but this is only one of the worlds they inhabit. They travel amongst the stars to distant places, to see sights and wonders your human mind has never conceived.

The Gift of Knowledge that you and Ashlyn possess is designed to be a doorway, allowing you to enter into the heart of other cultures. You will be able to interact with other species as though you were truly one of them.

The marvels are too many to mention but you will have eternity with which to explore them. The universe will be yours.”

“It’s beautiful, Steven. The children will love it!”

For the first time, they saw the full value of the gifts. The gift truly was knowledge. And in knowledge lay the future for an immortal.

“Keeper, yes, we would like to go, but first, I must be assured that our children will be permitted to accompany us, even though they have not received the Gift of Knowledge?”

“They are your children, so yes; your four children will be permitted. Once we reach Heaven, the Anunnaki will help your children to receive the second gift.”

“We only have three children, Keeper,” said Steven.

“Excuse me, Lord Steven—but Ashlyn is with child!”

“I’m pregnant?” said Ash excitedly.

“Yes, you carry a male child!”

“I’m carrying our son, Steven!” Ashlyn threw her arms around Steven’s neck in a tight embrace, but almost as quickly, she turned and asked, “Keeper, how old is the child?”

“Three hours, twelve minutes, forty three seconds.”

Steven, he’s my child, the me that I am now! He’s—our child.” Tears filled Ashlyn’s eyes as she held Steven’s hand tightly in hers.

Steven understood her excitement. The child had been conceived after Ashlyn melded with Renee. The child was borne from the love of the three of them. “Yes, he is our child.”

“And as your child, he too will be born with all of the Gifts. Your other children will be helped to receive the Gift of Knowledge once we arrive at Heaven.”

“Thank you,” said Steven and Ashlyn together.

“If you are ready, my children. You must now travel to the second moon; a ship, the Destiny, awaits you there. It, I, will take you to Heaven. You need do nothing. Along the way you’ll see wondrous things that others have only dreamed of.”

“The Destiny. It’s a beautiful name,” said Ashlyn to The Keeper.

“I thought the name—appropriate—based upon my knowledge of the two of you.”

“It is Keeper, it is!” said Ash.

“Destiny is being prepared as we speak. All your needs for food and clothing are being attended to.”

“Why Keeper, I didn’t know you knew my size?” Ash quipped.

“I did find the thin necklaces a—challenge,” The Keeper jested. “I had seen they were your choice of clothing when I searched your mind in the garden.”

***

A pillar of light led them to a large crater on the second moon. Landing beside it, they exited to the ground outside.

“You must simply wait, my children.”

Ash noticed it first. “Do you hear it? There’s a hum.”

The ground began to rumble beneath their feet.

Steven touched Ashlyn’s arm, garnering her attention. He pointed toward the high peaks that formed the crater’s rim. They were transforming into the tips of a large vessel’s fins. The transformation descended, revealing large pointed arrays. The sweeping wave enlarged, moving at a quickening pace toward them. As they spun round, taking in the vastness of the appearing ship, the ground beneath them began to dissolve, engulfing them in a white brilliance.

Destiny was shaped like an ultra-sleek tri-hull wedge. Huge pointed arrays were mounted at the base of her wings and close to the hull. Sitting atop her hull to the aft was what appeared to be an enclosed observation deck, entirely transparent. She was as graceful and sleek a vessel as any their imagination could have conceived. Brightly lit from bow to stern, her white hull glistened like snow.

The platform began to lower them into an impressively large bay that would have held a hundred Dolphin transports without being crowded. Overhead, the bay began to seal. “Molecular manipulation,” said Steven. “Probably not a lot different from our ability to shapeshift.”

“Now this is impressive!” said Ashlyn.

“This way, my friends.”

At the far end of the room, a wall dissolved, revealing an arched doorway. The light beyond invited them. They were led to the aft of the ship, to the lounge-style observation deck that they had seen from the outside. The surround style view was breathtaking. It was like standing in space itself.

They stood in silent awe as Destiny rose from the ground and headed into space.

“Keeper, we should inform Defender that we’re a friendly vessel. Tell them that Ashlyn and I are aboard.”

“I have already done so, Lord Steven.”

Two minutes later, they were gliding through Hades’ atmosphere.

Slowly, to not scare the people below, Destiny set down in the desert, far outside the wall surrounding the pyramid. The crowds spilled out from the city, gathering. A small chime, and then suddenly the entire lounge area was lowered to the ground below.

As the crowd arrived, and they again beheld Steven, the chant began, “Enki.”

Steven now understood how easily it had happened on Earth, so long ago. Early man had worshipped the Anunnaki as gods who had arrived in ships from the sky.

Ashlyn let Steven know that she was going to take a shuttle to retrieve the children. Meanwhile, Steven needed to prepare Brooks for his departure.

Brooks came walking up and beside him was Novacek.

“Gordon!” Giving him a big, big hug. “You’re alive?”

“I certainly hope so!” he said, returning the hug. “The crew is fine too. Stratton is aboard Defender, making sure the injured are all being taken care of. We lost fourteen people, but as they say, you should see the other guy. Enlil lost thousands. I kept expecting more from him, but he was kind of a dumb-bunny really. Didn’t have a lick of strategy.”

Steven shook his head. “When Ashlyn said the mountain had been destroyed, I’d thought …” Steven shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re really here!”

“We did all right,” affirmed Novacek. “You would have been proud of the crew. They fought hard.”

“I am proud. Of them and you!” said Steven.

“So—it looks like you’re rather popular round here,” said Novacek looking around at all the wide-eyed people that were staring at Steven. “They seem to think you’re the Messiah.”

“Well let’s not promote those ideas any further. If they depend on someone else to solve their problems, they’ll never learn how to solve them for themselves.”

“Maybe, sir. But perhaps a little faith isn’t so bad. Considering all that we’ve overcome, don’t you feel like maybe—things worked out just the way they were supposed to?” said Novacek.

“I guess you would know—” said Steven, his look conveying far more than his words. “My brother.”

Novacek nodded warmly.

“Am I missing something here?” said Brooks.

Steven smiled, “When you get the chance, tell him everything, Gordon. We’re all family.”

Steven, turning to Brook’s, “Share the Gift with Gordon, Stratton and then give it to the rest of our crew. There’s also a man here, Erich Guerling. Goes by the name of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.” Seeing their look, “Don’t ask. Give it to him and his family. He’s earned it. After them—it’s all up to you. Some of them might be a little rough around the edges, so be careful.”

“I remember Erich Guerling. He’s here?” said Brooks.

“Yup, ask around. They have an underground city beneath the Citadel. You’ll find him there. Though, I’d wager he’ll find you first. They were living underneath Enlil’s nose the whole time.”

“We also found an underground city. The river’s diverging path to the right, led to it,” responded Novacek. “We only came out of hiding once we got news about Defender’s arrival. The news of Enki’s fleet traveled fast.”

“I’ll be damned,” said Steven.

Novacek smiled. “Oh, by the way.” He reached into his shirt’s breast pocket. “I have Ashlyn’s locket—can you give it to her for me? Believe it or not, Enlil gave it to me.”

“Wow. I hadn’t expected that,” said Steven. “She’ll be happy to have it back.”

“And—do you want to know what happens next?” added Novacek.

Steven cocked his head, contemplating his words. “It—it—it was you, Gordon? You gave Renee the vision. I couldn’t figure it out.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry if it caused you trouble?”

“That’s a hard question to answer. I don’t know, maybe it’s like you said—things worked out the way they were supposed to.

And no, I don’t want to know what you see in the future. If you say one word, I’m going to slap you up-side the head like a red-headed alien!”

Novacek, with a smile, “Ok, but don’t say I didn’t try to warn you, brother.”

“Do you know where you’re going?” asked Brooks of Steven.

“I’ll tell you after he leaves,” offered Novacek with a knowing grin. “Let’s just say, he’s going to have his hands full!”

“Keep your eye on him Brooks, he’s too clever for his own good!” said Steven with a laugh. “And Gordon—you’re right—I will have my hands full, both of them! I knew that before you did, ha.”

“You’re a lucky bastard!” said Gordon.

“Yes—I am.” Replied Steven, who then informed Gordon and Brooks that while Ashlyn was off retrieving the children that he was going to make a quick trip back into Enlil’s throne room, beneath the pyramid. He told them of the underground fortress and that he wanted to retrieve the Sword of truth.

***

As Steven entered the underground chamber, he hastily made his way through the maze and into the weapons vault he’d seen when he was on his search for Phillip.

He’d paid little attention to the statue the first time he had seen it, but now—thinking back, he realized that the statue was of an Anunnaki, holding a sword. The sword stood upright, its point, touching the base of the pedestal.

Now, standing before the statue, he translated the Sumerian words, “The Sword of Truth.”

Removing the sword, he held it up with pride, wielding it. He had found his prize. He would return it to the Anunnaki home world, to Enki—to its rightful owners.

***

Within hours, all the goodbyes behind them, and back aboard Destiny, The Keeper took them to the third moon, which concealed a cloaked Stargate that would take them to the Anunnaki home world of Heaven.

***

After Destiny made the jump through the Stargate, Steven opened up his pack, and pulled out the items he’d brought with him from Avenger. When Ashlyn saw the picture of Renee standing at the railing of the Eiffel tower—with a tight hug, she showed him how much she cherished his having saved something so important to her, to them.

Hours later, the kids fast asleep in their beds, the Destiny altered her course so that The Keeper could show Steven and Ashlyn the Meridian nebula. He’d said it was one of the great sights to be seen, a microcosm of the universe, a place where stars were born. Before them lay billions of years of history. Its depth of inspiration and beauty was beyond compare.

Leaning against the bulkhead, cuddled deep in Steven’s arms, “I have everything I ever wanted aboard this ship. My world, our world, is here and now,” said Ashlyn as she caressed her tummy and Steven’s son to be, “and tomorrow.”

Having Ashlyn so close to him, Steven’s passions blazed. His hands wandered cross her tummy up to her breasts, his spread fingers grittily clenching them, digging deep creases.

“Anxious are we?” as she felt his heavily engorged, throbbing shaft pressing against her buttocks.

“You have no idea how badly I want you right now!” answered Steven. “No idea at all.”

Steven grabbed the collar of Ashlyn’s blouse, and pulled hard, his passion ripping it from her. The popping buttons flew in all directions. His fingers traced her outline, running round the curves of her wobbling breasts. He slid lower, his fingers feeling the tremble of her stomach muscles tightening in response to his touch. He grasped the snap of her jeans.

“Easy there. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Staying his hands, Ashlyn turned round, and slipping out of the torn blouse, she tossed it into a corner.

Turning her, so that her back was against the wall, Steven pressed himself hard against her. Embracing, they kissed ferociously, Steven’s heated breath upon her neck, inflamed her. Ashlyn ripped his clothes from him.

Steven unsnapped the button on her jeans, sliding the zipper downward. His hand slipped inside, between her legs. His fingers went deep into the crevice in her panties, touching her through the silk. He could feel her clit hardening, her moisture beginning to soak thru.

As the star filled heavens behind them bowed in obeisance, Ashlyn forcefully spun Steven round, putting his back to the wall, “And you have no idea how badly I want that—right now!” responded Ashlyn, looking impatiently at his erection. “No Idea at all.”

Prodding him to lay down on the plush carpet, her eyes never straying from his cock, she stood above him, slipping out of her jeans. Wearing only her sheer white lace panties, she straddled him, settling her knees round his hips.

Rising and falling, Ashlyn moved stealthily, relishing the thick, engorged hardness of his shaft sliding between her folds, sliding against her clit through her panties. Her breaths were ragged, expectant of quick satisfaction.

As she took advantage of him, hanging over him like a canopy bed, Steven wrung her breasts, playfully trying to catch her bouncing nipples. Ashlyn, ready, let him catch them and as he began sucking furiously—she pushed down harder, letting every long inch of him slide against her clit. Moving faster, she brought herself to orgasm.

To Steven’s panting breaths, she slowly kissed her way down his chest. With each kiss, her hunger to feel him throbbing inside her throat grew—inflaming her passions. Her hunger was matched only—by her thirst to taste him. With the tip of his cock pressed against her lips, she gave him hard, teasing, circling strokes from her tongue, her every move designed to hasten his release.

“Ouch. You bit me,” said Steven looking down at her.

“Just reminding you who’s really in charge—Lord Steven,” said Ashlyn, as she quickly bent over him, and took him deeply into her throat.

To each bob of her head, her wagging tongue working its magic upon him—the specialized muscles inside her throat and tongue sought to suck him dry.

Gasping, his back arching as he felt himself starting to come, he marveled at what she was capable of doing.

He now had all that he had been wanting—for so long.

He had a tall-ship beneath his feet. The wind was at his back and he was having his deepest fantasies fulfilled.

STOP HERE FOR THE

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

Or continue on to the CLIFFHANGER

that leads into the next book in the series…

Epilogue

Hades

Steven, as he had done every minute for the last four days, spent his time focusing, straining, moving stealthily along the walls, trying to find a weakness in the field of his cell. A weakness that would allow him to reach out and touch Ashlyn’s mind.

Enlil’s death had been a ruse. The sword, a lure. When Steven had removed it from the pedestal, he had triggered the trap that Enlil had set for him. As the door to the armory silently slid closed, locking him in—a generated field dampened his abilities.

Enlil had been hiding in the shadows, patiently watching, waiting. With the trap sprung, from out of the shadows, an old white-haired woman stepped forwards, “Did you really think me so easily beaten, Tin Man? I am surprised that you were so easily fooled.

You were so kind, even having one of the Guardians carry me home. No one thought to suspect the fragile, little woman who walked in from the desert, alone,” Enlil said mockingly. “If they only knew.”

The woman then changed into Enlil, again taking his natural, tall, white haired form. “You were boringly predictable. It was all very disappointing. I thought you to be so much more than you were.

And now, look—” Enlil transformed into Steven. “You have lost—everything!” Putting his arms out wide, he gloated.

“I now have a powerful Anunnaki ship to take me to Heaven, where my father will bow before me, begging me to spare his world, his people! He will beg my forgiveness—as will he curse me when I burn Heaven beneath his feet!” Enlil’s eyes were like, fire. He laughed haughtily, staring at the cavern’s ceiling. His vengeful mind picturing the attack.

“You’re insane!”

Hearing Steven’s words, Enlil’s eyes lowered to meet Steven’s. “I’ve had thousands of years to plan. And you played perfectly into my hands. I lost a fleet, but you have brought me a ship more powerful than all of them.

I played the part—letting your people think I was weak. I seemingly sacrificed my forces for no reason. Do you not see, by pretending to lose everything—you felt secure, letting your guard down. You have given me back more than I lost.

You killed my Anunnaki females, but I now have your whore. Is it clear to you now? All that was yours is now mine.

Soon, your whore will be spreading her legs for me, and I will think of you, Tin Man, sad for all that you will be missing—as I impale her, ramming myself into her for days—her screams always begging me for more.

And I will think of you as I suckle upon her.” Enlil drifted away, reminiscently, “It has been thousands of years since I have sucked upon the soft, engorged breasts of an Anunnaki female. My craving is beyond desperate—I long for the contentment their touch provides.

For your whore, it is no different. She will come to me often—wanting to swallow my seed.

You see Tin Man, just as her breasts give me contentment, so does the seed of the Anunnaki male release chemicals that deepen a female’s passion, heightening their sense of pleasure and happiness. The more they get, the more passionate and happier they become. They are like a baby wanting to suckle from its mother’s teat. They need it often—and they want it constantly.

This is the Anunnaki way. As the females tongue pleasures us, so does ours, pleasure them.

I tell you this—so you will know what you are missing—as the tongue of your whore licks me, her mouth seeking to suck me dry—her moans begging my thrusts to squirt my seed into her throat. She will gorge upon me, seeking to satisfy a craving thirst that cannot be satisfied—and my seed will fill her belly.

Her addiction will make her a slave to me.

And I will also think of you—as I make her cry out—my tongue deep inside her, filling her, driving her insane with passion. She will be amazed at the things a shape-shifter can do. Amazed.

Should she ever come to know of my trickery, the strength of her cravings will force her to do my bidding, for they cannot be resisted—but of course, I can always threaten to eat your children, should she not kneel before me to suckle.

And, if you are thinking that you will be found by your friends above—don’t. I made it easy for you to find this chamber, purposely leaving the tunnel beneath the throne open for you to find. Even the scanner was false, letting you think you were so clever, as to have found it. But never will the tunnel be found again. I will be moving the throne, forever sealing off the tunnel. Once it is locked into position, it is impossible to move. The pyramid will make a fitting tomb for you, don’t you think—even though no one will ever know.

Enjoy your new home, Tin Man,” said Enlil as he took a step backwards, starting to depart. “You must excuse me, but I am in painful need of having the mouth of your whore upon me,” said Enlil, grabbing his own desirously swollen shaft. “Yes, great need.”

And with those punishing last words, Enlil, in the image of Steven, smiled sadistically and turned away.

Steven’s screams chased after Enlil, until long after he was gone from sight.

Steven tore at the bars, searching for the powers that had been given him, but within the field, he was powerless.

Steven heard the throne, its large, stone mass grinding as it moved. It was followed a moment later by a massive thud as it dropped into place, forever sealing him in.

As the days slipped away, he tried using the tools within the armory, all to no avail.

He was without water, without food.

Steven could only hope that the Gift of Life was at work slowing his death, but he was also aware, that even with the Gift, with no sustenance, death was an inevitability.

And yet, it was for Ashlyn and his children that he would continue to hold on. For they knew not of the horror that was standing at their side.

With each breath, as his mind sought to escape his cell, he implored, “Ashlyn—I beg of you. Hear me!”

Coming Soon

Heaven Denied

Children of Destiny 2

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