General William Finch carefully set down the report and shook his head. He knew that it would have been easier to read the report on a tablet or a computer, but after Malaysian hackers had crashed the economy out of boredom eight years ago, he just didn’t trust them. You knew where you stood with paper. Ink formed a word, and that word stayed the same. No need to enable cookies, change his firewall settings, and whatever else his granddaughter did to his computer so she could play World of Magic Online.

He didn’t really trust the game or the concept of e-sports. He had spent a lot of money and favors ‘talking’ to the Dean of Admissions at Wenning University to ensure that she got into a top flight marketing program. It didn’t have the same cache as an Ivy League school, but Wenning was still an elite school heavily recruited by the Fortune 500. Then, after she graduated with high honors, instead of taking the job with a consulting firm that William had quietly lined up for her, she went ‘pro’ in World of Magic Online. He still didn’t understand how you could go ‘pro’ in a ‘sport’ that didn’t involve moving from a chair, but evidently she was quite good at it. Hell, she was making almost a half million a year in endorsements alone and there was talk of getting her a movie deal.

Still, William didn’t trust it. After his son and daughter-in-law had died in a train accident, Jennifer became his responsibility. He wasn’t sure that he had been the best parent to her, but he tried. Deep in his heart, he knew the fame and money from being a professional gamer was fleeting. Sure she might become famous, somehow, for a couple of years, but he was sure that it wouldn’t last. It wasn’t something solid and enduring like a dependable office job. He wasn’t sure if it was fair, but he blamed Henry Ibis, the mastermind behind World of Magic Online. Without that game, his beautiful Jennifer would have been a vice president of communications or a lobbyist by now. Someone with weight and importance in the real world. Instead, thanks to the seductive thrill of virtual reality video games, she was some sort of half celebrity, known only to the nation’s cast offs and malcontents.

Another man walked into the room and stood at attention before William. The other man was six foot even and in great physical shape despite his salt and pepper hair. It wasn’t like he was bulging with muscles, focusing on strength tended to be counterproductive if you didn’t have the agility or control to harness it. Instead, he was lean with a sort of whipcord intensity to him that promised an explosion of violence to anyone who crossed him.

“At ease Major Bowman,” William spoke evenly. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to review the report from the Thoth Foundation? Apparently, they found a way to send an explorer to one of the aliens’ planets and he came back with a whole book worth of advice and dire warnings.”

“I’ve glanced over it General,” Hans Bowman nodded in response. “It sounds like they’ve found a way to even the playing field a bit against the elves.”

“Aliens Major,” William growled back. “A bunch of fanciful kids with their heads in the clouds can name them elves, but that doesn’t mean anything. All we know for sure is that they come from space and that makes them aliens and a threat to our way of life.”

“Aliens then General,” Bowman responded. “Still, despite their lack of modern technology, we haven’t really been able to slow down their incursion into Brazil. We made some initial progress once they first landed about six months ago, but right now it’s a stalemate. We can’t bring heavy equipment into the jungle to fight them, and even with rifles our infantry is struggling against theirs. Machine Guns aren’t the greatest tools against force fields. Worse, there are some reports that the animals of the jungle are mutating. Getting larger and more aggressive. Some have even begun to display mag- anomalous powers similar to the invaders.”

“What about anti tank weapons?” William asked, brow furrowed. “I recall authorizing quite a few recoilless rifles and missile launchers to our contingent in the coalition forces. If bullets don’t work well on a forcefield, how about an armor penetrating round?”

“They pack a punch if we can hit them,” Bowman replied. “Even the humans among the aliens move as fast as an olympic sprinter. The el- more alien aliens might as well be panthers. They’re almost impossible to spot in the jungle and our soldiers swear that they’ve seen the things moving at almost fifty miles per hour. The coalition forces have already taken enough losses that only us and the Brazilians are willing to actually send troops into the Amazon anymore. Everyone else is content to just try and form a perimeter.”

“Didn’t I tell you to just bomb the aliens and be done with it?” William asked with a frown. “Even if we can’t get tanks out there, that’s no reason why we can’t just level their hideouts.”

“Unfortunately the Brazilian Government didn’t give us permission,” Bowman demurred. “While everyone did see how effective nuclear weapons were in defeating the Siberian alien landing, their President would prefer that the Amazon not be irradiated. Normal bombers are having a hard time targeting aliens through the foliage, but gunships work. Unfortunately, any helicopters that linger too long are getting shot down by the aliens’ magi- anomalous abilities. Right now, anything that leaves the jungle is spotted by a satellite and destroyed by a rapid response force with air cover fairly quickly, but we are struggling to make any headway within the jungle itself.”

“It figures,” William muttered. “Europe and Asia are too passive and the locals are worried that we’ll wreck up the place and leave without paying for their drycleaning. Still, forming a perimeter? Around the biggest rainforest in the goddang world? I can’t even begin to comprehend what kind of idiot would ok that kind of strategy. It’s only a matter of time before there are aliens wandering out of the forest into Columbia or Peru where no one has any assets. No, the only option is to keep pushing the aliens until the get the hell off of our planet.

“I can’t say I disagree,” Bowman replied ruefully. “We just need something that can tip the advantage back towards humanity enough that we can justify a new offensive. The rest of the coalition nations are content to let situation fade from the news cycle now that the shock of the alien invasion has blown over. Already most of the world’s population is going back to business as usual, confident that ‘someone important’ is dealing with it.”

“What did you think of the report from the Thoth Foundation?” William calmed himself as he asked the younger man. There was no purpose biting Bowman’s head off. The Major was just doing is job and truth be told, pretty much everyone called the aliens elves and didn’t treat them like a proper threat. William and the rest of high command were really the only holdouts.

“It certainly gives us more information than we had before,” Bowman shrugged. “Up until now the aliens would only stop fighting long enough to inform us that we were part of the ‘Glorious Tellask Empire’ and that we should ‘lay down our arms’ so that ‘House Amberell’ could incorporate us. Obviously, I’m more interested in their plan. Than man they sent, Daniel Thrush. I have his biometrics from his time in the army. Whatever happened to him in the last two years, he’s almost a completely different person. If we could increase the strength and speed of actual soldiers rather than some technician, our infantry would be able to fight evenly with theirs. It would be a huge step forward.”

“I agree completely,” William leaned back in his chair. “I’m still not sure of this joint enterprise they’ve offered, they ‘activate the mana’ of 100 of our soldiers in exchange for aid in training and developing 100 of their own. I already tried to talk them into making it all soldiers, but that Ibis refused to discuss it. Worse, he let me know that he planned on selecting their 100 from the upper ranks of one of his video games, World of Magic Online.”

“That is certainly an interesting choice,” Bowman responded slowly. “The cost to us for training the 100 soldiers is hardly a factor, barely even a rounding error in our current training budget. We can do all of this without Congress even knowing a thing. Still, I would prefer it to be 200 of our soldiers as well. The Thoth Foundation hasn’t done anything untoward yet, but this almost feels like us sanctioning their development of a commando division or something and I really don’t know how to feel about that.”

“I don’t like it at all,” William growled, “that’s how I feel about that. I’ve already tried to talk to my contacts about strong arming them or nationalizing the technology, but apparently Ibis has connections. Connections that stretch higher than our current president.”

“So you mean-” Bowman began.

“Don’t say it,” William shook his head in resignation. “We never know when they’re listening and I don’t want to deal with waking up to some shrouded figure by the side of my bed telling me to stay out of their business. It interrupts sleep and proper digestion.”

“Very good,” Bowman gulped, “if I may ask, why did you call me into your office?”

“I’m going to agree to Ibis’ proposal,” William stood up and handed a box to Bowman. “Effective immediately, you’ve been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and put in charge of the Starshield initiative. You’re going to be our interface with the Thoth Foundation and the commanding officer of the 100 soldiers that get trained as part of the initiative. I just have one order before you begin, none of this meditation nonsense.”

“But the report says that individuals that try to harness the aliens’ powers without meditation become unstable and violent,” Bowman frowned.

“It stinks of pseudo-science and communism to me,” William replied. “My ex-wife’s yoga instructor was big on meditation. He said it freed the mind and stabilized the soul and chakra. It sure didn’t stop him from putting his chakra into her. Now she’s out in California living in some commune giving classes in guided astral projection to a bunch of drugged out hippies. No Bowman, we want our men to be raw, have a fighting edge. So what if it makes them a little aggressive. This is America. Men here are supposed to be a little unstable and violent. It’s good for the soul.”

Bowman smiled nervously. Orders were orders.