After those five long days, he finally opened his eyes, and I had to tell him that our father was… dead.

Michael did not take it well; neither did I for that matter. (Part of me is still feeling that emptiness inside, the sensation of something missing.) He was more resilient in a way; his responsibility to the people and that chemical rage, his glands were supplying, made him stronger to deal with the loss for the moment. Nevertheless, his entire demeanor changed, became more rigid and sharper. I could see the change in him as he was standing above Elizabeth’s sterile field, the hardness in the lines of his face… the resolve.

His vital signs went through the roof when I briefed him that various nations had imprisoned all the remaining family members of our people on Earth; the medical nanites worked overtime to regulate his systems (that much blood pressure is not healthy in any human being, upgraded or not).

All the same, he had to put out some fires on the Ascension first, to calm our budding population that was frightened for their loved ones. It is a strange phenomenon when many people gather in one place. Especially if they are without strong guidance, they drift unanchored in some way. I swear the collective IQ drops to concerning levels and they have a great potential to turn into a mob. Michael calmed them down and promised them that everything would be all right. I do not think anybody else would have made such an impact on those people. Jack would have some pull, especially with ex-military men, but the rest would freak the hell out.

Michael had a videoconference with the… let’s call them rulers of the planet (in every sense that mattered, it was exactly what they were).

That particular videoconference was one for the history books. I recorded the entire thing—it was just so awesome. Posterity needs to know one day how the declaration of our independence was delivered.

Frankly, it was not supposed to be this way, since it was way out of our original plans. The announcement of our independence and proclaiming our sovereignty happened at least a year early. There is that old saying, ‘if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans for the future.’ The reality forced us to jump on certain things before they were ready.

The proclamation went to all our people, together with the videoconference recording; that was ordered by Michael. There is something basic in human nature that wants to see those in power taken down a notch; that video became the most-watched on the ship… ever. People were viewing it over and over again as if they were junkies, and the devotion it started to cause towards him was a bit frightening. The iconic “have a nice day” at the end, became a new catchphrase on the ship; a substitute for the F-word. Those politicians most definitely did not have a nice day, they were lucky if they managed to escape heart attacks and aneurysms on account of all they witnessed.

It was in all but name straight blackmail, combined with a death threat. (No maybe about it.) Those who needed to really understand the message were heads of superpowers with enough nuclear weapons to destroy the planet, and yet they were powerless to do anything to us. We held the higher ground above their heads (it is so much easier to throw a rock from the top of the skyscraper than to throw one back from the surface).

I may have tampered a bit with the image, when the video of that Hammer started its flight. There were hundreds of them in the camera’s view when the number at that time was closer to ten. The frame of the device was not a problem, but the drive was a highly sophisticated piece of technology. I could have used conventional propulsion, or built some speed and threw it out of a transporter, but then the precision would suffer to a great degree. When you are playing with orbital distances, angles, acceleration, and air resistance, play a big role. No one wanted them to hit close to our targets, they needed to be spot on, and only Gravity-drives offered such precision.

Wantonly destroying a piece of land was not in our modus operandi, even if there was no nuclear fallout. To be on the safe side, we chose a barren piece of rock in the Antarctic Circle that didn’t even have any animals on it (maybe a few insects).

Besides, it was a controlled explosion, which can be precisely measured by the amount of acceleration that the Gravity-drive produced. It was effective and it served its purpose, to scare those heads of state, and to make our threats believable. I could have made a realistic computer animation to fake the whole thing, but they would have checked seismographs that could measure such events. As luck would have it, there was a Russian nuclear sub in the vicinity of the strike zone. Close enough to feel it, but not to be destroyed by it.

Michael said his piece, and that was it… the waiting game began.

What do you know, not ten minutes later, we began to receive calls from the same people. At first, there were only those who have done no wrong in relation to us. Meaning those who resisted the pull of greed towards our technology, and we came to an agreement in a most expedient manner. There may have been some insinuation of preferred treatment in technology sales in the future, but nothing official. I had to respond to all of them, and at one point I held eight simultaneous conversations of the same type. My AI-core time dilation helped me to do it, and I was jumping from one conversation to the other for quite some time, as if playing a game of musical chairs. All requests for them to establish diplomatic missions, and embassies on our soil, were politely declined. In most cases, the embassies are nothing more than spy stations that like nothing better than to steal secrets and pass them on to their mother country, we were not so gullible.

OK, so... we ended up bombing North Korea. It was a hard thing to do, but I can say with pride there was zero collateral damage (as I did not kill even one civilian). As for the members of their military… I’m pleading the fifth.

The idiots fired missiles at us, and I double-checked their trajectory to be sure. I guess the fat-head on the top believed if he could shoot us down, he would finally get some respect on the world stage (and not be looked upon as the world’s biggest dunce).

Well, he did, and we did.

Rockets were easy to shoot down, they were not that fast, and I was getting better at navigating Hammers to their target. The launch sites received the same treatments, with predictable results. Although, the cream on the top and my favorite part of the entire punitive mission was nailing that crazy SOB that started it first. He waited out the bombing in a bunker, which just proved he was completely detached from reality since the moment his loony head poked out, I had a Hammer ready to reach out and touch him.

The Hammers have high-speed cameras mounted on them, and it recorded his final moments. I loved that image so much that I placed a digital copy on the wall of my room. If I ever let it out in public, it will be like Einstein's picture with the crazy hair… an instant classic.

As soon as the news of our work on North Korea spread, those few slowpokes who had still not set free the hostages—did so in a most expeditious manner. Even the good old US decided to do the right thing (and yes, they were the very last).

The funny thing about those satellites, Michael told them that we were confiscating them; it was a sleight of hand he did there since we already had full control over everything above 100 miles (161 km). It was too good of an opportunity not to use, and it showed we had the power to enact such a policy. What can I say, space is ours, and we will take anyone’s stuff if they park in our front yard.

Oh, they tried to move them from their orbits. What were they thinking? That we would collect them one by one? It was a conundrum for them (I am being a bit smug here).

To them, it looked as if all their satellites refused to respond to commands, and there were some seriously dangerous commands sent from the surface. Like the self-destruct ones sent to a few top-secret satellites that were carrying big surprises on them. Yes, I am talking about nuclear armaments they were not supposed to send to space, per the Outer Space Treaty they'd signed. How much can you believe a man that breaks his word, let alone an entire country?

Normal people didn't notice that anything changed, God forbid they lost their favorite streaming shows or their Internet connection, it would be the instant end of the world for a good percentage of them. It was business as usual to anything legit (just under new management).

I had the idea to clean up all the space junk floating around Earth, it is a good project for recycling, and those satellites are mostly secondhand goods anyway. My own can do a far better job and have a lot longer lifespan, simply refill it with a few gallons of water every century or so and you are golden.

I laughed my ass off when Michael had that little chat with the NASA director, the man was genuinely confused why the International Space Station was rising in altitude when it was by all their previous telemetry hurtling towards home.

He didn't take well when he said that we were claiming salvage rights on that piece of… historically important junk. The director could not even speak, he just slammed his phone in anger. The only reason I put him through Michael was that I thought he needed something to laugh about. Despite his performance, he was hurting and lifeless. For me it was different, I spent so much time in the accelerated time, it healed some wounds, or at least made them less painful. It still hurt, but I coped with it far better than he did at that moment. The wall he built around his grief, after hearing the news, crumbled and he needed some alone time.

That night Michael fell asleep in the observation room. Floating in weightlessness and curled up in the fetal position.

He was grieving.