[Johannesburg, South Africa: 2320]

Isaac Pavarti leaned his head against the cold window, taking in the what little grandeur he could of the feeble world thirty stories below. Black smoke clouds floated by the high rise at a slow pace, too fat and content with the progress of ill will already beset the land under its shadows.

No living thing stirred in his view. Just machines running on autopilot, or worse, controlled by an alien artificial intelligence with a whopper of a goal and no conscience. When they came, humanity practically gift wrapped the Earth for them. Every weapon, vehicle, financial system, pretty much everything important was theirs within minutes. All assimilated at mind boggling speeds. What little was left of humanity was not putting up much of a fight in this one.

"Son, that's enough of a break. Time to get back to your studies." His father, Thomas Pavarti said behind him.

Isaac turned and picked up a worn bible off of a table with three legs and moved to the living room.

"No fight today?" Thomas asked from his recliner. Probably the nicest chair on the whole floor.

"The last few chapters of Mark made it through contradiction free." Isaac sat down in his well worn chair. "Let's see if the streak continues."

Thomas rolled his eyes and resumed his reading. Isaac flipped through a few passages, but nothing was sticking. He glanced down at his wrist, and the chip embedded by the aliens. Every living human had one. The aliens used it to summon individuals for manual labor or for execution, depending on who you asked. Isaac had his altered.

"Isaac, what do you think we should teach our flock this Sunday?" Thomas asked.

"That if we wish really hard, the second coming may happen in our kid's lifetime."

"I'm serious," Thomas continued. "Should we dive into the book of proverbs?"

"Whatever you want, dad." Isaac shut his bible and looked at the front door longingly.

"Son, you put up a good show at the services, but you're going to need to do more than that if you want to be protected from our enemies."

"I what, need to have faith?" Isaac asked.

"In a roundabout way, yes. But it helps that our captors have agreed to keep all ministers and their families protected, so long as they keep ministering."

"Well, there you go, you've got us both covered then."

"I won't be around for long, son. If you want to keep surviving, you need to take up-"

"Your congregation seems to come every week. Why aren't they dying?"

Isaac's tracer alarm beeped, indicating he was being summoned. Thomas's face went white. Isaac could see his father play out a million scenarios in his head, trying to avoid the summons, and hope the aliens didn't come searching for him.

"What do you suppose they want you for?" Thomas' voice shook a little bit, but his face went firm. He knew running would lead to the certainty of death, and facing them provided the greatest chance of survival. Thomas would always use the status quo to stay alive.

"Probably just some routine check. It's been a long time since they replaced this." Isaac shook his arm around like he had a defective watch. "I should probably be going. Wouldn't want to make them upset."

"I'll get the door behind you." Thomas stood up and walked to the door as Isaac was unlocking each of the seven dead bolts.

Isaac finished opening the door and stepped into the dark hallway beyond.

"You be careful now," Thomas said.

"Don't worry, Dad" Isaac gave him a casual salute. "I'll be back before supper."

Once free of the door, he stepped out into the hallway, and his father locked up behind him. The stairs were to his right, he turned left at a brisk walk.

In the dark, his feet kicked up against garbage, animal feces, and even a few people too tired or too dead to make it to a room. A few lights flickered feebly from the ceiling, but they provided no more light to the hallway than the stars hidden behind thick clouds.

Seven doors down, Isaac stopped at an unmarked door. At one time, it was probably numbered, but over the years, the markings faded away. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in.

This apartment was less furnished, but also less run down. More than half of the carpet remained intact, if not stained, and a little slimy in places. Only a few small holes littered the walls. And, this one had a large counter hiding a tipped over fridge. If it had had a door lock, Isaac would have suggested to live here.

He quietly shut the door and walked around the counter to the fridge. The motor had gone bad long ago, but Isaac found another use for it.

The fridge door gave a soft squeak as he opened it, revealing a pristine black box with a lock at the top. With the key already in his hand, he unlocked the box. The bulk of the fridge was full of textbooks from various universities. On the right, another small container held a small watch.

"Found a way to get away from your dad this afternoon, Pavarti?" Came a familiar voice from behind him.

Isaac smiled as he locked his box and turned to face Neicia. She was a head shorter that he was, black hair, green eyes, and a crooked nose.

"Yup. Poor guy will probably have died from fright and stress before I get back though." Isaac pulled out an old Physics book and sat on the fridge.

Neicia sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. "You should be easier on your dad, he's trying to keep you safe."

"There is no safe," Isaac said as he flipped open the book. "Only the optimum chance of survival."

"Which he is giving you."

"He grew up when humanity was safe. The thing people feared the most back then was public speaking. It's different now. We have before us something incredibly dangerous, and no one knows how to deal with it, least of all him."

"Can't we try just giving them our water, see if that makes them go away?"

Isaac put his finger in a page and shut the book. "I keep telling you it would be impractical to steal our water. Plenty of that in space. No need to fight us for it."

"Then what do they want?"

"I'm not sure."

They sat in silence for a while. Isaac reopened his book and read while Neicia rubbed the back of his neck with her finger nails. After he'd read a few chapters, she grabbed a biology book and read with him.

Isaac reflected on his good fortune of the afternoon. Quality reading time with his favorite person in the world. Hours of quiet reflection time to study. Not much more he could ask for these days.

That's when his tracker alarm beeped again.

"Did you set it twice?" Neicia asked.

"No, I uh.." Isaac examined the red beeping tracker imbedded in his arm. This wasn't his hack. It was a real summons from the aliens.

*****

[Kobuk National Park Bay, Alaska 2117]

Water sloshed around Doctor Isaac Pavarti's feet as he stepped through the portal, and into a dark cave. What little light the portal provided vanished when it turned off the instant he was through. Despite the darkness, he navigated the cave like a familiar living room during a power outage.

Three steps to the left, a high step over a small icy stalactite, and he knelt down to open the hatch of a large supply chest half buried in the ground. The combination was fluid to him, and the box opened instantly.

Three bright non burning flares lit up, providing enough light to get his real bearings. The cave was icy and empty except for the box. The box held a lot of supplies packed into a small frame. No portals were at work here by design, he to limit the access to this location.

First, he put on a long leather jacket, some cloves and thermal clothing. This place was cold. Second he loaded the jacket pockets with food, a knife, flares and a flare gun.

As the feeling returned to his fingers and body, he pulled out a map and consulted it. He was currently in a remote cave in the Kobuk National Park, in Alaska. This was placed here as a marker to get to his more secure location closer to the northern tip of the state. There were seven such markers spread throughout the world, but none of them could be accessed by portals. Most of them were out in the middle of nowhere, and the closest portal to them was very far away. This was to prevent imitators from messing up his equipment while he was dead.

But now he had to make it out though a frozen tundra, get to the lab and hit the reset button. Professor Kiandoli's report was just too grim. So many variables were changed this time. Did Scott, Miranda and Dixon actually make it to Earth? What about Donovan and his wife? What was her name? They always screwed things up. In the end of every simulation with them, Dixon would steal their suits and beat everybody.

And how powerful was the Phantom Queen and her followers? How long have they been here? That group was always a wild card. Either completely irrelevant or completely critical to his success. Occasionally they were his downfall.

But none of this mattered. If he could just get to the Alaskan command center, he could power up all of the portals, including the time portals and he could reset this whole mess. Start over and try again when everything was just perfect.

He had a small window of making it through the snow outside. He consulted his watch and then wadded the map into his pocket. Outside, his heavier clothes were no match against the raging storm. In his other simulations of this moment, he was always in a younger body. This old body grew stiff in the joints and everything ached.

Visibility was next to zero, and the winds were so loud there was no use in shouting. Still, Pavarti raised the flair gun and shot into the air. After a moment, he shot another one. He waited 2 minutes and then threw a flair into the ground ahead of him. And finally he dropped the last flair by his feet.

Normally in a storm like this in the remote corners of Alaska, the hope of rescue was minimal. Standing out in the cold would result in hypothermia, no matter how well you were dressed. But Pavarti had been here at this exact time before. And he knew there was a native man out driving around in the perfect vehicle.

Like clockwork, the faint rumblings of a diesel Jeep heralded the presence of his rescue. The driver pulled the vehicle so the passenger door faced Pavarti and opened. Pavarti took a few steps, and then fell down, pretending to be beaten by the cold. His body complained that it was nearly beaten, and would only stand a few more minutes of the task.

Like in the other simulations, the driver got out of the car and started to walk around the hood. Pavarti had fought this man several times. Again all in a younger body. The driver knew how to handle himself. Pavarti once pulled a knife of the driver, only to have it stolen and wielded against him. A gun forced the driver back into the car and he drove off. A flat out brawl was a fifty percent chance of winning. Pavarti didn't have room for those odds. The best chance of gaining the vehicle was to simply run in.

Just as the driver was around the hood of the car, Pavarti pushed himself off of the snow and lunged for the open passenger door. The driver stood in shock for a second too long. Pavarti leapt inside, slammed the door and locked it. The driver pounded on the windows while Pavarti struggled to recover his breath. After a moment, he climbed into the driver's seat and put the car into gear.

The driver pounded harder. Shouting could barely be heard over the noise of the storm. Pavarti hit the gas and sped off. Out of concern the driver might have a way to call for help, and thus alert others to his presence, he flipped the car around and ran him over. In the end, it was more merciful than simply letting him freeze to death.

There were a few different options open to him now. The base was north. But there was almost no civilization directly between here and there. In all of his tests, he never made it on a direct shot. East was treacherous and the car would sometimes make it there the fastest, but there was a stronger chance of brake down. His best chance was west, out towards Alleket city. It would take a few more hours, but he knew where a better vehicle would be and then he could use the interstate system to drive where he needed to go.

The tires spun for a second and he was off to Allaket. There was still a lot of snow to plow through, but the Jeep was ready to handle it. Visibility was still next to nothing, but he had practiced hands for the job. He was confident he was navigating a straight line.

The fuel tank chimed, and flashed the warning low gas sign. The world in front of him was white. No signs of anything other than snow. He'd been driving for five and a half hours now. He should be nearing the outskirts of Allaket, the closest town with its own airport.

Snow powder turned to ice, and ice to road way, and gradually into a small, one gas station city. The town was just as he'd remembered it. A small banner hung between two light poles, inviting citizens to a picnic that happened two months ago. A blue 1989 pickup truck with a snow scrapper was parked outside the city bank. A man was shoveling snow off the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street.

Pavarti parked behind the truck and got out of the car. His legs ached from sitting so long. In all of his test runs, he never thought to simulate driving with atrophied legs. He wasn't sure he could handle another round of driving. But his window was closing. The owner of the truck would turn around in two minutes and the man shoveling the sidewalk across the street would notice him shortly.

He walked over to the truck and pulled out the spare key hidden by magnets on the underside of the wheel well. One last stretch and then he was in the truck and down the road before anyone knew what had happened.

Five minutes later, he pulled into the airport parking lot. The crew were on their lunch break and not accustomed to invaders and thieves. A single prop plane was already gassed up and waiting in the hangar.

He took off, heading north, for Deadhorse, Alaska. Most of the towns this far north were small, but they all had their own airport. People were flying small planes all over the place, rather than navigate the frozen and rocky terrain.

He landed without incident, stole another truck and turned onto route eleven.

More driving. More endless seas of white. This time south, where the land was flat and covered with tons of snow. A plow had come through since the last snowstorm, so the roads were clear, but around him the snow piled high.

He stopped several times to stretch and eat the small amount of food he brought with him. There were no gas stations along the way.

After driving for two hours, he pulled off the right side of the highway and popped the truck into four wheel drive. The terrain was icy and uneven, but the truck managed the slippery conditions.

At last he reached his destination. From the truck, it didn't look like much. Just a flat stretch of land covered in small patches of snow and cold resistant grass. But underground, Pavarti had built a small and secluded base of operations. One of several throughout the planet. Ones not directly accessible by portal, although it did have some control of his portal network. Also, they were impossible to get into if you didn't know what you were doing.

Right now, several soul jumpers were at the entrance, trying to trick the sensors into letting them in. The front sensor panel was raised above the ground, and resembled a conductor's stand. A strait pipe out of the ground with a rectangular panel. On the panel were seven egg shaped holes. They pressed in like buttons, and the soul jumpers were trying different combinations to open the entrance. Pavarti knew it wouldn't let them in.

"So the legion league did find their way here." Pavarti said as he stepped out of the truck. He was impressed with their cleverness. But they were in his way. And there were only three of them.

"Excuse me, this is private property." Pavarti called out.

"Shove off old man." One soul jumper said as he turned from the group to face him.

"Calling someone old is like laughing at a man getting hit by a train while you're stuck on the tracks a few hundred feet behind."

The soul jumper looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What I mean by that is, nearly everyone grows old. The exception of course, is to die young."

"Whatever." The soul Jumper said. "Just get out of here."

"Would you like to grow old? Or are you more of a die young kind of guy?"

"I said leave!" The soul jumper shouted.

"Temper like that is going to make the choice for you." Pavarti kept waking, waiting for the man to soul jump him. "Being called old should be a badge of honor. A statement of how long you've survived."

The man took a step back, cautious, but then his soul jumped out of his body and tried to latch onto Pavarti's. The soul clung to Pavarti's jacket and turned a murky orange.

"Take me for example." Pavarti continued as the soul jumper quivered and fell to the ground. "I've been alive in one way or another for over a thousand years. So I have beaten all of you at this game of life."

The other two turned around and looked at their fallen team mate, shaking on the floor. Pavarti released the soul and it shot back into the soul jumper. He screamed and kicked, and the other two turned to run away.

Pavarti pulled out a gun he borrowed with the truck and shot them both. "Can't have you linking up with your friends."

He walked past the shaken soul jumper and shot him in the head. The entrance stand was glowing red, meaning it was about to open up security counter measures. Pavarti pressed the right sequence of buttons and they all turned a different color. In each of the buttons, he placed a small stone, precision cut to fit the hole. Each stone had a planted memory in it. The buttons switched from multi colored to green and the ground began shaking.

The entrance panel opened up. Pavarti got back in the truck and drove in. It wouldn't be long now.