Area 51, Groom Lake, Nevada

4:17 PM

Jessica purred behind me while pulling my arms behind my back, “The General will loooove you.” She started humming a tune. It was hard not to whirl around and break her neck.

The Archives have a massive profile of the shrouded Terra Firma American air base smack in the middle of the desert. Speculators, or the underground communes that are obsessed with Terra Firma lore, believe it is the link to fifty years of technological advancement and off-world secrecy. I call it Nomad’s Land. The Sweatbox. Scum-filled backyard. Among all the landscape beauty of Terra Firma, Area 51 was one of many places I wanted to avoid.

Believe it or not, I was there, standing on the tarmac and watching the military activity. The whole thing felt was like a dream. The mutants were out too, all with a look the same as mine. Decathan was right, the sudden rush of blood to my hands after two days suspended stung like hell. I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming in atrophy. Roland handcuffed the others and they didn’t put up a fight.

I was the tallest of the group standing at six foot five. Mental images of flattening Jessica’s head made me smile for a little bit.

The whole base was active, unusually active, there was more activity than the files described. Everybody except the agents wore gas masks, fearing that the transformations were the result of an airborne virus and the agents really just had a death wish. Everybody carried semi-automatic rifles, loaded with armor-piercing rounds probably. Crystals infested the area, one so tall that it was spiking out a hanger’s roof. Vehicles whizzed by, carrying more masked and disciplined soldiers. Tanks were parked at strategic locations to defend the base and to prevent escape attempts.

I reviewed it all for Kantra’s insight. He sighed that it seemed to be a cinch to get me.

More white trucks came, an endless supply of mutants. Jessica told us to move and follow her, I spotted one man fighting with an agent’s grip on his arm. He looked too old to walk but with his new body he came out sprinting. The agent, a young white man too good to be a celebrity, pulled out his sidearm and shot the mutant in the back. He sent three more shots to the head for good measure after catching up.

In front of the truck were two massive flat bed trucks with jagged parts. I recognized the Lunar Spear’s hull; my furniture and things in crates under a white tarp. It still leaked plasma and engine coolant. “Bastards,” I grumbled. Jessica pushed me to keep moving, I noticed that she used my sheathed sword while Roland carried my rifle.

We entered the hanger and there were more crates with meager names. Soldiers were there repairing vehicles, each of them wore goggles. They stopped to watch us—me particular—and then went back to work. We stopped at a pair of tables. Several armed soldiers emptied all our pockets. They took Scott and Katie’s comm. devices, handed them to one soldier, and she smashed them with a hammer against steel for the trash. Their identification cards were taken despite Reba begging them not too. All of it went into a crate with our batch number and we were sent off into the stacks. Then they came to me.

Humans took my grenades, my extra clips—anything that could have been a weapon, even my hard soled boots. Yeah, the humans got a really good look at my three toed feet. The solid concrete felt ice cold. So much for shoving my boot up Jessica’s ass. She personally carried my crate of gear with the sword strapped over her back.

“Keep moving. No stopping,” one soldier said to us. Our trek through the hanger continued and then stopped at two steel double doors, both opened like a ship’s hatch and lead to a small compartment.

“Get in, all of you,” Jessica ordered. I was the last to enter, my back faced the doors and there were only a few inches of clearance from my crown to the roof. They closed and the cramped elevator descended, we went down into the bowels of the base.

Katie and Reba were almost rubbing against me; if they were I might’ve lost it. I peered out a window showing me the shaft and the counterweight. Then the shaft ended and I gasped. Below the base was a massive honeycomb of rooms converted to prison cells. There had to be over twenty levels of uncountable cells and they stretched out to the length of their runway. Below I spotted laboratories with humans examining mutants alive and dead. One section held a huge cage holding animals with glowing blue eyes, more were added by the crate full. The mutants gawked at it.

The Archives didn’t mention about this setup, I thought and described the layout to Kantra.

he told me.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The next room was filled with lines upon lines of mutants, ranging from the youngest to the oldest, with heavy security and surveillance equipment. Kids, teenagers, middle aged, seniors, bankers, politicians, rich people, poor people—you name it. Everybody had the same sad and depressed look on their faces, some asking questions with no answers or recycled answers to obvious questions. When the agents pushed me out, everybody saw me, and I got mixed responses.

The mutants of course screamed and tried to run away, but the soldiers kept them in line by gun barrel. The military was, believe it or not, cheering for me. Like… excited. One yelled, “Hoozah, we have an alien.” Another one said, “you’re gonna get it, alien, it is our time,” while a soldier behind me said, “after thirty years, we have a live one.”

That last one tipped me off.

Jessica’s device rang again and she listened amongst the yelling. She nodded a couple of times, but chocked on her tongue to eye at one mutant next to me. “Are you certain? Is it wise?… Yes sir, understand.” She hung up and approached me. “My boss wants to see you personally, Mr. Teal, and to see this man too.”

A scream rang through the room. I smelled burnt skin as I saw a young mutant dragged off to the cells. He was holding his charred arm with a fresh four-digit brand on his wrist.

“You there. Come with us. The General want a word with you,” Jessica said, she grabbed Scott’s arm and pulled him out of the group.

“No, I’m not leaving Katie behind,” he yelled and tried to break free.

“You’ll see her soon enough, this will only take a moment.”

It struck me as suspicious that a leader of an air base wanted to see him too. We were lead away from the lines and down a lit corridor to a separate elevator. Once in, I was unable to hear any more screams.

“This is madness, there branding us like cattle,” Scott commented.

Kantra pondered.

We went up three floors to supposedly the administration offices and through several corridors. For a better rescue, I memorized the layout for Kantra. We stopped in front a white door with a silver name plate. “Gen. Arnold Griffon” was etched into the plate. This must be it. Listen closely guys.

“What are you smiling about?” Jessica asked me.

“Oh just excited to meet the big man of the joint. He will be the first to die by my blade,” I growled.

“Heh, as if.” Roland knocked and I heard a man call out for us to come in. Another soldier from inside opened the door and we entered, the soldier stood outside on point.

Brill’s office had less valuables in it than Griffon’s, but like him, he had a large window. The window overlooked the underground prison, not space itself. The office, however, was a perfect division of his personality. The left side was covered in colonial nautical artifacts and antiques dating back to human expansion to other continents. Magnetic compasses, hand drawn maps sealed in frames, miniature sail ships crammed into glass bottles (I have no idea how to make those), and precious coins from ancient human empires. The other side held weapons from every human era from primitive to present. I happened to whistle at his collection. One section made me question his motives; non-human plasma pistols, beam rifles, buckshot grenades, and elemental land mines. Where did he get that technology?

In the center of the room was a massive desk with two chairs in front. The General swiveled around to face us with a “welcoming” smile after watching the commotion. I call it menacing. The leather chair was too big for him and but probably not his ego, not to mention the gray crew cut atop his head seemed cheesy. Crows feet lined his eyes and the corners of his mouth. Everything else read “utter badass” from his badge-covered uniform. But I did get a bad vibe from him, it was enough to make anybody’s tails and tentacles lifeless for a week.

“By Jove,” Griffon said excitedly. “In all the years running this base, I never thought I would wind up seeing a true blue extraterrestrial.” He lifted himself from the chair and walked around the desk. “Such brass with this one. I can tell you have some exciting history to share. And look at you Scott, all grown up I see.”

“You better have a good reason for taking me away from Katie,” Scott bellowed.

“It’s nothing drastic, Mr. Dunne, just simple re-acquaintance.” Scott sneered when Griffon said his last name. He stood a foot and a quarter shorter than me, but still built like a fighter. I couldn’t tell how much muscle he packed. He faced me, “This one is my greatest achievement. Agent Jessica, what was his name again?”

“Jaruka Teal, sir,” she answered. “A mercenary for hire. These are his things, sir, as well as his rifle and sword.” She nudged at the crate.

“Sword? Odd. Place them on my desk.” The agents did as told. If I had a chance I could have scrambled to them and killed everybody in the room. Jessica eyed me when I thought of it. Please don’t tell me she reads minds.

Griffon approached the desk and ran his hand over my sword, “A mercenary you say? Quite a catch. Never expected to be a mercenary, more like a runaway.” I looked away. Griffon asked if I can speak English and she answered.

“Tell me Jaruka, if I’m pronouncing your name correctly, do you know what is happening?”

I would’ve kept my mouth shut, but the sight of Roland’s gun butt poking me in the stitched shoulder was intimidating. , “Bits and pieces, most of it clarified by this mutant’s friends.”

“I assume your ride was comfortable?”

“Comfortable my ass, I can barely move my arms thanks to her. For the record, she even kissed me before knocking me out cold. What kind of sick freak does that to prisoners?” I caught Scott looking at her and gag. Jessica cleared her throat.

“She did?” Griffon peered at Jessica with a displeasing look, “Pardon me for Jessica’s ‘unclean’ mannerisms. She acquired some mental problems after serving as an interrogation officer back in Iraq.” That explains a lot, except the kissing thing.

“Why don’t we skip this dry talk and get to the real deal, Griffon. Tell me what the hell is going on here or I’ll start bashing heads against walls.”

Griffon took that harsh, “Very well. Please, have a seat.” He motioned to the two chairs facing the desk. Roland pushed me into mine; Scott was shoved into his by Jessica but he yelped like a small pet after accidentally sitting on his tail. I kept my eyes on Griffon as he filled a highball glass with aged liquor, sipping it as he walked to his chair. Snob.

“For starters, the asteroid acted very peculiar as it crashed. In spite of that, your presence on this planet has peeked my interests deeply. You see, our satellites and telescopes have been watching Helen for two years straight. The math showed it would no doubt overshoot us by miles, there was no point to fund any team to conduct any defense measures. Seems that ignoring the Mayan myth has got the best of us, more or less.” He was talking about the ancient Mayan calendar and the stories that muddled its true intentions. I’d read about it back at the Academy. Look it up. It doesn’t correlate to any world doom scenarios, just a cycle of ages. “And in some weird and unexplainable coincidence, Helen changed course in minutes. A perfect ninety degrees to the Pacific ocean. Care to elaborate?”

Kantra muttered, trying to speak if he controlled my voice box.

“I have no say,” I shrugged. “I swear.”

Griffon hummed.

“Hold on just a minute,” Scott intervened and we all looked at him, “Are you saying that this… whatever he is, has something to do with Helen?” He looked nervous.

“Yes indeed, Mr. Dunne, as a matter of…”

“It’s pronounced Dunne you idiot, like Frank Herbert’s Dune.”

“I’m sorry, my mistake. It’s just been so long since I heard your name and old age gets me sometimes.” He let out a small chuckle and set his drink on the desk.

Scott leaned forward with a serious look. Might as well intimidate the guy. “Yeah, that’s been bugging me since I got here. I don’t understand why you wanted to see me.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want to hear his side of the story?” Griffon mildly pointed at me.

“When I’m in a military situation or near someone with military power, or the fact that you knew me for some reason, that unnerves my gut. I can wait for his sorry ass story.” Me, Decathan, and Kantra were a little stunned at the mutant. Not knowing about an extraterrestrial’s story is beyond me. As much as I wanted, I had to listen in.

“If you insist, Mr. Dunne. It’s because I stumble on your family’s history quite often.”

I blinked.

“That’s a lame excuse. Anybody can read about it,” Scott scoffed. “My parents would’ve warned me that we had a stalker.”

“It’s nothing like that. I knew your parents personally, more specifically, when they were U.S. war heroes,” Griffon talked like it was important to him. The general pulled out a thin plastic box and opened it like a clamshell. Humans called them laptops, very slow and clunky portable computers. I call them paperweights. He tapped the plastic keys and turned it around so we can see the screen. It showed two human profiles—one male, one female—that looked to be in their mid-twenties by human aging measurements. The male had short black hair, strong chin, and bushy eyebrows, qualities Scott inherited. The female had dark brown hair down passed her shoulders, rounded face, red cheeks, and a short militaristic smile; couldn’t find what Scott inherited. Both profiles had brown eyes. Below the pictures were words I couldn’t make out, but each one had a different military symbol.

The male was U.S. Navy.

The female was U.S. Air Force.

The traumatizing reaction from Scott was unexpected, startling me. The mutant started breathing harder and faster. Ducking his head down it seemed he was calming down his temper. His pointed ears were twitching and his tail whipped back and forth. It lasted for a minute until he raised his head. He looked mad. “How the hell did you get those?” He asked with waves of sadness and anger. I suspected something worse, like exploding with anger or something. “That is classified information. Not even government officers are allowed to see them.”

“I can do almost anything when I have the right connections. On the other hand, I’ve had these for four years since the… incident,” Griffon answered in an informative tone. “I’ve read these files over and over, Scott. Your family, both sides of your parents amazingly, have a long tradition of proud military family members, right at the start of the Civil War. Once eligible for the Metal of Honor, am I right?” Scott didn’t answer. “It’s sad really, to loose them at a young age. When I heard that Herald and Vanessa Dunne died, it was like true heroes—good people—were taken from our country.” He turned the laptop around to gaze upon the faces. “It makes me wonder to this day how you survived that tragedy. Seeing them, murdered right in front of you, blood all over you, on the most important day of your life. Powerless to stop it.”

I saw it as some scare tactic to make Scott break from pressure. Griffon looked so intent on doing it, those hard green eyes and those well thought out sentences were from a good interrogator. For one thing, breaking him was the intended objective, but turned out differently than I imagined.

Scott tipped his chair to the side, crashed to the floor, and had a full blown eye-rolling seizure. I could only sit there and witness his suffering.

Yeah…

It’s kind of hard to explain what happened there, or for that matter, why.

Every day I try to forget it. It’s what screwed me up in the first place, hence the massive scars on my forearms and neck. You might say that when people experience a traumatic moment in their lives, it changes you, teaches you lessons, and sometimes cripples you. I fit in that third reason, but more life threatening.

I never tell anybody about it. Katie, her family, and Deryl do their best not to rattle my damaged mind. Just… so much pain. What’s weird is that when I talk to doctors and psychologists, they can’t explain why I go into relapse and suffer seizures if it’s ever mentioned. All advancements in medicine never explained the phenomenon. Obviously this jackass General Griffon wanted to see that happen. I just blacked out, but it was enough to see images pass through my vision.

Keep this in mind—for the record, I never tell anybody I don’t trust about those visions or my past, not even you.

Fortunately it lasted for just a minute with no brain damage. I came back to Griffon’s office on the floor in my own pool of drool, gasping for air and shaking all over the place. Roland was over me checking my pulse and shining a light in my eyes.

“He’ll live,” Roland nodded. I wanted to strangle him. He took a hold of my shoulder and my chair and pulled both up. I kept breathing hard.

“Just as the medical records said,” Griffon pondered.

I calmed down a little bit and glared hard at the general. “Y-You had no right to do that. I’m very sensitive to that information, and what you did was uncalled for you psycho. When I tell Deryl…”

“Tell him what? You can’t leave this base, Mr. Dunne, no one can. You and your girlfriend are staying here until we figure this out.” He leaned back and put away the laptop, “But for your mental safety, I’ll need to see how bad the damage is.”

The agents didn’t seem very concerned for me. I expected Jessica to have a little emotion, but she looked like she enjoyed my suffering. I wanted to know what she did in Iraq. I then remembered the alien sitting next to me. For him, he looked weirded out, like he saw something disgusting on television. I asked him what.

“Um… What was that all about?” He asked. I looked away; he went on to bigger things and let me relax. “Never mind. That doesn’t explain everything,” he said. You still need to tell me what happened after the asteroid crashed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, the past is much more interesting than the present for me.” I knew he was lying. He ate a cashew from a bowl on the desk, “After it crashed, a bright white glow emanated from it and the force of the impact receded back, eliminating any form of tsunami. It defied any logic, science, and physics on earth.” No duh. “It’s best that I show you.” He pressed a button on the desk and a screen descended over the pirate artifacts, flickering to military surveillance. I saw the crystal crashes all over again; flowing out like a water ripple and watching the lighting orbs enter people.

Jaruka gasped and cursed in a language I couldn’t understand on separate instances on the video.

It skipped ahead to footage I never seen. From LA to New York, everybody was asleep. The animals were alive, going on with life as usual. Then everybody woke up at once. It sent chills through me remembering that experience.

The alien gulped, “Weird. What about the crash site?”

It switched it to an aerial view of ground-zero with navel ships from three major countries surrounding a massive purple dome. I saw a few battleships blast at it with no sign of damage.

“Theorists estimate it’s some sort of repel dome,” Griffon explained. I had figured as much. “Been like that for two days now. We are noticing signs of decay and with a mathematical estimation the dome will collapse in a couple of weeks. Makes the Big Island of Hawaii look pathetic in comparison.”

“The news didn’t mention this,” I muttered.

“It’s for public protection,” Griffon explained. “As I showed you this, I’ve been watching you Jaruka. You seem to react to these ‘supernatural’ occurrences as if you knew what they are.”

Jaruka shot his attention back at him, “Yes, but it will take more than a beating to make me talk. You humans are not ready to understand this kind of power.”

“Really? And you neglect any allegations that you are connected to all this?” Jessica cooed.

God I wish he would stop wasting my time, I thought. Get to it.

“Back off, bitch,” Jaruka beamed with a jerk from his handcuffed wrists, some of his dreads obscured his eyes.

Griffon only shook his head and stood, “You see, part of watching the asteroid since October 2010, we made extensive scans on the surface for any anomalies. Private telescopes and satellites went though every guideline we could think of. Gas emissions. Electromagnetic disturbances. Radioactive elements. But we didn’t count on an accidental discovery with UV lens filters and a coating of radioactive material that we made a pretty disturbing discovery.” He pressed a few more buttons to show a normal close-up, recorded video of Asteroid Helen. “Here’s normal view. Then here’s the view with the filter.” It didn’t change much, but I spotted a very small yellow glow from a corner of jagged spires. Griffon magnified to a high-definition shot.

Before I made it out, Jaruka got up from his chair and went to the screen. The agents were stopped by Griffon to let him see it. As I saw Mr. Dreadlocks face, it was total horror, his black eyes were wide as golf balls.

Griffon folded his arms, “We aren’t stupid, Jaruka Teal, we innovate. You are one horrible liar.”

I looked back at the screen, “What the…” I stuttered. “Is that… no it can’t be.” Suddenly, all the pieces fell together. “What were you doing up there?”

Kantra was having a fit, almost bursting my ear drums.

Decathan was about to run out screaming bloody murder and I wanted to join him.

For three crogen months, I had the cloaking on the Lunar Spear at max without fail. Fool proof dammit, not even their latest telescopes could have ever seen me. And they did. Griffon used radiation to read energy signatures. And they crogen did it!

That psycho shifted the video from the shiny representation of my ship to a far more detailed layout with a clear view of the bridge. I saw my shadow drifting from one porthole to another, then see I saw myself appear in the bridge, sitting down and doing that annoying report check and send. Seeing those images dating back two months slowly infuriated me. My face was inches from the screen.

“Amazing what modern technology can uncover. Don’t you agree?” Griffon asked, but I refused to answer. “You were on that rock for a while, and you never left. Quite persistent and stubborn to me.”

“Very stubborn,” Jessica added.

“Persistant, stubborn and stupid,” Roland chimed.

It skipped to several other clips. I was in my space suit welding a section of the hull. I saw myself cheering at a Howler Cycle regionals stream. In the bridge, I saw myself talking with Brill just recently. Then, as the timestamp in the corner showed, I was leaving as the surface began breaking apart, looking pretty scared and pissed at my client.

I heard Griffon creak in his chair. “Luckily when you started leaving, we picked up huge readings of spacial distortions coming from the bow. Me and my fellow agents couldn’t help but, how do I phrase this properly, ‘bring you in for questioning’ by just targeting that energy signature.”

As the engines sputtered and the Slipspace Drive charged up for travel, the same green plasma ball grazed the top of the ship, spiraling out of control, and then the second one obliterated one of my thrusters, letting Terra Firma’s gravitational pull suck me in. The screen went black, leaving me, a stunned and robbed mercenary thinking, please, let this be a dream.

“Pity, isn’t it, Jaruka,” Griffon said simply. “Everything you had and planned fell apart in mere seconds. We calculated your crash and quickly called up a strike force to retrieve you and your ship, once the Wave done its job. I dare say, with the world turning upside down, and governments about to crumble, you alone are the key to our plans.”

I’ve been blamed for many things, things that I didn’t do. Everything I saw at that point was inhumane. They played and destroyed my emotional barriers. Down right evil. Just like my own people.

Decathan asked. I heard Kantra sighing and placing his head on the table.

You think I lost all hope. Think again. I had one idea left. Russ, increase blood flow in my arms.

Don’t start, don’t you dare start. Do it now or we’re done. I knew he got the message and my arms tingled in a strange way, then felt my muscles bulge a little. To prevent the humans figuring it out, I took a deep breath to suppress my outward rage and slowly turned to face the General and his cronies. Griffon’s eyes were like ice, the agents calm, and Scott was stunned.

“And what plans are you referring?” I asked Griffon. I flexed my hands, none showing signs of fatigue. Quietly I started working on my handcuffs, pinched one link, and used all my strength to bend it, making it weak. “Does it involve expanding to the stars?”

“Expansion?” Roland raised an eyebrow. In unison, they laughed at me. “Man, you are way over your head.” My friends back home became very worried, Kantra’s predictions were becoming useless.

“Then what is it?”

“Public execution and revenge of course,” Jessica answered.

Griffon pocketed his hands, “Humans love scapegoats. For the United States of America, that carries on to revenge. Once the commotion is down to a manageable level, we will reveal you to the world, exposing your involvement with Helen. You will be the image that will drive these citizens to war in the next six years, thanks to your ship’s technology.”

Great, just crogen great, it’s my childhood all over again, I thought. “I refuse to be your media pet.”

“Becoming one doesn’t entitle you to a choice. Nobody will listen to you. Face it, you look like a hippy. Who would want to hear someone such as yourself?”

“They will. Let me make my peace before you go off and make up stories.” The link was bending faster, almost ready to snap apart. “I was there conducting surveys on the asteroid for a client. For three months, nothing happened. I had to stay for full pay or half pay. I was beginning to believe the job was a ruse before this shit happened. I swear, on my mother’s grave, I did nothing. Nothing! What will happen to me will destroy me…” I focused on Griffon’s eyes. “…and it will solve nothing, not even a cure.”

“Shut up,” Scott said finally, “don’t give me that crap. You ruined my life. My girlfriend’s. Everybody else on earth. I hate you.”

“You have other things to hate besides me, kid.” One last bend, the link broke. I caught the link so it wouldn’t fall. “One last question. If you are excited to have me, what shot me down? What weapon did you use?” My last moments alive needed it, the evidence towards Terra Firma was vital. Kantra listened closely.

“If you say so. From the translations on the plaque, we used a Class-12 Plasma Defense Battery on our base. Can’t really pronounce that name of the maker’s species, but they certainly look weird from their ‘centaur’ bodies. How we got it? That’s another story all together.” I could imagine Wringheart’s ears steaming if she was listening. Griffon placed a hand on my sword still on the table, “Expansion is beyond us. The cure for this disease is our priority. Once cured, and your carcass dispersed in several blocks, we will make the Galactic Council disconnect from Earth permanently and remember to not meddle in our business ever again.”

Great goddess. They knew all along.

Kantra exclaimed.

I stared at the floor for a second. Now here come’s the hard part. Denverbay, forgive me. “That’s a shame,” I grimaced, “because in the next five seconds, you won’t be able to see that happen.” I extended my arms and started charging after him, free to wreak havoc and slaughter those humans with my bare hands. “DIE YOU EVIL SELFISH DIRTBAGS!”

I screamed as I ran, jumping and sailing through the air, my hands aiming for Griffon’s neck. It happened in slow motion, but the humans were quicker. Griffon ducked away so fast I couldn’t keep track. Roland came forward and pulled out a handgun from his chest holster. I didn’t care if they were gonna kill me there, or that Kantra and Decathan screaming at me to stop.

Roland pulled the trigger. Bullets didn’t hit me, but two silver darts connected to wires gripped to my wounded shoulder and lower chest. My vision turned white as electricity shout through me and tensed up all my muscles. I could hear my friend’s voices dying in static and could hear small pops. I crashed on the desk and rolled to the other side, convulsing violently and screaming in agony as Roland held down the trigger. Roland was smiling.

“Dammit,” Griffon barked. “Take him and Scott to their cell. Make sure the freak gets branded for records and make sure he stays stunned until he’s in there.”

The electricity stopped and I ceased convulsing, but I couldn’t move a finger. Roland dragged me off as Jessica took hold of Scott. It took one punch to Scott’s stomach to stop yelling.

I looked back to see Griffon hanging my rifle and sword in his private collection, smiling gleefully with his ego. He looked back at me, his smile widened with perfect white teeth. “You monster! When I get out, I’ll kill you. Mark my words you croger!” I yelled.

I thinkspeaked to my friends to hurry up. Nothing came. Worried, I did it again. Not a peep. Wait a minute, I thought, did Wringheart test the nanites for electric damage?

I felt sick of the thought that I might be right. I was alone.

Goddess, save me.