Location: Bastion One As the chairperson, Dr. O was the one to speak up. "Actually Mr. President, we think..." It wasn't an attack. At least, it wasn't a deliberate attack... There was a very simple reason for this conclusion. "Mr. President," Dr. A explained unhappily, "If this was an attack we wouldn't be having this conversation because we wouldn't have survived this long." "Ridiculous," A general interjected, "They're attacking us with animated Teddy Bears granted, but people are dying, how isn't that an attack?" "Because the Statue of Liberty took a couple dozen missiles to the face and got angry?" Dr. I replied. "If they created constructs on such a scale with real weapons we'd be fucked. If they leveraged the true potential of such technology in any meaningful manner... Well we wouldn't even have the chance to fight back. As my colleague said, we'd be dead." "You need to understand," continued Dr. O, "This is a technology capable of reconstructing matter on a subatomic scale. We don't have anything that can counteract it. What little we understand indicates that it shouldn't be limited to nanoscale effects." This sparked a chorus of murmurs to spread across the room. Finally an advisor spoke up. "You mean that this can get worse?" Dr. O was wary of inciting a panic but duty bound to answer honestly. "The nanotechnology created thus far seems to have no preference for it's basic components, however the most common mobile constructs are comprised of CHO-molecules, carbon, hydrogen and oxygen. These elements are the common building blocks of most of our planet's biologies, including humans. For some reason the harvesting of these elements has been limited to non-living materials..." He paused before forging on, "There is nothing to say that that cannot change." That triggered an uproar. Location: Harmony Memorial Cemetary It began not with a bang or a whimper but a groan. More than twenty-four hours had passed since the object had come to rest in the cemetery behind the church. By the time anyone thought to investigate, it was already too late to stop what was happening. Pastor John Walters of the American Non-Denominational Church of Christ could be excused for not noticing. Upon departing for his small home across the road from his church, he had lingered only long enough to board up some broken windows and pack his rickety old farm truck with medical supplies before venturing out to tend to his flock. Later matters became complicated by the need to tactfully subdue a rouge nativity scene and several homicidal statuettes. There was no visible damage to the cemetery other than the tennis ball sized hole at its center, no one saw it so it wasn't investigated. The grounds keeper had been among the first casualties of the invasion as it was being called and it would be another few days before plots needed to be arranged for the dead. So no one noticed, not the hole, not the wisps of green vapor; and especially not the groan. There had until then, been an element of bemused incredulity to the rampage of animated toys and statues. For all the death and horror of the situation the enemy was clearly artificial and to be frank, somewhat ridiculous. There was no hesitation when it came to putting the things down. What fear there was, was the fear of death. What horror there was was horror of the enemy's actions. People adapted and overcame their fear, drowned their horror with rage and a desire for vengeance. That the enemy was not human and had clearly never been alive had supplied the distance needed for an Us versus Them mentality. It made things easier for the people confronted with the disaster. Blue green tissue, ligament and tendon, muscles and flesh spread across long desiccated bones. Things were pulled together, hair gathered, teeth replaced as necessary. Breaks were mended, holes patched, vermin banished. Grave soil pulsed, puckered and ruptured as a hand freed itself. First one, then several as the contents of coffins stirred. None of the more recent residents of the cemetery were affected, those interred within the past two years. Considering the emerging horror, it was a small mercy. It was a toy designed to amuse an infant mind as far beyond humans as humans considered themselves beyond ants. It worked by establishing emotional relevance with its user and stimulating mental development through the actualization of whim and fancy. Of course there were safety features, limits built into the device that prevented it from posing a danger. To its creators. The prayer service was in its final hour when the doors opened with a bang. Pastor Walters faltered in his words as startled cries rose from those closest to the entry way. People seated in the front rows turned around to take a look. One old man gaped as rheumy eyes spotted the figure at the head of the procession. "M-Martha?!!" "Gwueehh!!" There are 7.5 billion people estimated to live on planet Earth. Of this population nine people in every thousand are about to die. Worldwide 155,000 people expire every day. The alien device animated every intact corpse existing for longer than two years. In the first global wave there were 2,545,875,000 humanoid zombies. There were 80 million in the U.S. alone. The Organization's thoughts on the matter were... "Thank God most of them are Romero Zombies!" Unfortunately, this count did not include household pets, birds and other wildlife. Simon Hughes & Aaron Baetsky CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA- The two men were grim in noisy the cabin as Besty trundled along. After a while, Simon couldn't hold in his thoughts in any longer. "Nobody's picking up." He said morosely. "I've been calling all morning. No answer." CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA- Aaron grunted, then said over his shoulder. "Same here." CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA- With a sigh he continued. "No, choice about it. I know some folks who set up a place outta town on the outskirts. We'll touch base, get some trucks and head on back in." CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA- "The old girl should hold enough fuel to make the run. Then we'll hunker down once we get what we left behind." Baetsky rubbed the sidewall in emphasis. Simon's gloomy expression lightened as he looked at Aaron in newfound appreciation. "You think we'll find anything?" Aaron nodded confidently, "Sure will, got loads of supplies at my house." CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA- "I was talking about my family." CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA-CHATTA- CREAK-CREAK-CREAK-CREAK-CREAK-CREAK-CREAK-