The Space Legacy #3
Author: lgi
Date: 2021-03-31T18:00:00+00:00

Book 3 - Prologue

Earth, North American Continent

12,900 Years Ago

Gray dark clouds covered the entire sky and sent torrents of acidic rain, dirty with ash, to fall onto the ground. Leaning against a big boulder, a lone man waited for his death.

His hands were pressing against his stomach, trying to slow the blood leaking from his wound. He knew that there was no one who could come to his rescue anymore, and the injury was far too extensive, one he couldn’t possibly survive.

As far as he knew, he was probably the last surviving member of his entire civilization. They had been hunted to extinction.

In spite of it all, a defying sneer twisted his lips; the pack of monsters responsible for his end, and countless other deaths… were dead as well. Unfortunately, not before his entire group was wiped out.

He remembered the times in the past when he was perfectly happy, being surrounded by his family, friends… living in paradise. Their home was like a garden they cultivated, and through countless generations, made it into the most beautiful place on the entire planet. All gone now, destroyed by the orbital bombardment and energy weapons of the monsters. Undeterred by the destruction of their home, his people still had hope and believed that their civilization would endure.

He and his men were chosen to go on this mission, to walk across the entire continent in hope that they would find the hidden spaceship. The trip that would have lasted a few hours if they could have used their flyers, took almost the entire planet’s orbit around the Sun. They came so close to the ship… and failed.

The enemy could somehow detect even the deactivated technology within their bodies, and made a sport out of hunting them down… one by one.

However, those aliens did not count on a primitive trap he and his younger brother made; the last two surviving members. They knew that the probability of both of them coming out of this alive was very minuscule. Still, if they could destroy the aliens’ flyer, maybe one of them could make it to the ship.

In the morning, they said their goodbyes, holding one another for a long time; taking what comfort they could and both remembering their childhood when things were far simpler.

His brother volunteered to be the bait because of his busted knee, and the nanites that could have easily healed his injuries in the past, were made permanently dormant; he was the one slowing them down. Therefore, his brother waited at the bottom of the steep cliff, taunting their pursuers to come after him and kill him… and they did.

He had to watch as they shot the last adult member of his family, like an animal. When they came for his brother’s flesh, his hands sprung the trap. A large pile of rocks they gathered the previous day, waiting to be let loose and activate a landslide… above monsters' heads.

Despite the odds… it worked.

He watched as the few massive rocks fell on a delicate flyer, damaging it beyond all hope of repair. Unfortunately, the alien reflexes were unnaturally fast. A moment before the big tumbling rocks ended their lives, one of the red aliens aimed at him and pulled the trigger. With that shot, mortally wounding him, and killing the hope of his people.

Now, only death remained… he would never reach the ship.

He looked at the night sky and the violent wind patterns made an opening in the black canopy, allowing him to see the stars. He tried to find one particular light, remembering the exact position it occupied at this time of year. His hand lifted upwards as if to touch it when he finally saw it. There, in the sky was a tiny spot, but he knew it was the red planet. The most important place in the universe as far as he was concerned. On that desolate world, his son was hidden; waiting for his parents to come for him. That would never happen now, he would remain there, asleep… for eternity.

His last thought was a prayer, that one day someone would find his little boy, and wake him up.

With a sense of finality, the dying man did something he didn’t do for a long time. He activated his implant and instructed it to play still images from those happier times, images of his son, wife, and their idyllic home. It didn’t matter anymore if the other packs of monsters detected his position.

Ision closed his eyes for the last time, as the acid rain washed the tears down his face.

Book 3 - Chapter 1

Spaceship Excalibur

Low Earth Orbit

Michael was drinking a cold beer while sitting in a pilot’s chair on the Excalibur. It was no longer needed for it to be hooked up to the Ascension; hundreds of MIs installed throughout it were responsible for the day-to-day workings of the massive City-ship. Besides, Max had mentioned how Ares needed to have more human interaction and learn about responsibility, so the young AI was given the assignment to supervise it all.

He took the spaceship out because he wanted to be alone for a while. It seemed to him that recently, he was no longer the master of his own time. Everybody wanted a minute of it, but a day had a finite amount of them. Daily meetings, incessant questions about his opinion on things, making decisions that had a great impact on people's lives. He was slowly turning into that hideous life form he always had an aversion to—a politician.

And so, he flew the Excalibur out of the bay, parked it close to the Earth and… relaxed, enjoying the view and the eternal tranquility of the place. Max received a specific instruction in case someone was looking for him. He was to tell everyone that Michael was unavailable unless it was a life or death situation… except if it was Elizabeth, she had the authorization to reach him anytime.

The image of Earth from this perspective moved him every single time he saw it, so beautiful and fragile. The old girl was constantly under attack from the very beings it nurtured into existence. Still, it was a good place to find some solitude and unwind. Well, it would be if his mind would stop thinking about all the things they had done. So much was finished in such a short amount of time. Yet, that drive from the inside of him was still pushing him onward, in fear that if they stopped, that forward momentum would vanish. Where would they be then?

Almost six months have passed since they retrieved the heavy memory block and the AI-core from the bottom of the Mariana Trench. There was only a small problem of activating the mind held inside. It needed many support systems, and the only ones available that could run it was Max’s. The AI had no intention to turn himself off, just to see who was stored in it.

Ares ran on a completely different computational structure, one that was mainly based on Earth technology, so there was no way to jury rig something on the fly. Therefore, Max first needed to analyze his own systems to a molecular level and then duplicate it for the additional AI-core. He certainly did not want to mess anything up, so he took every precaution and did the whole thing excruciatingly slowly. By his estimates, it would not be long before he was finished, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

He caught himself a few times thinking about the answers that AI could give them, before being pulled back from his daydreams to deal with some new problem in real life.

The big memory cube was left mostly undisturbed. What little examination Max did confirm that it had anti-tampering safeguards; mess with it enough and it would erase itself, which was the last thing they all wanted.

The Ascension itself went through some major changes in recent months. All levels were now fully finished, and the main one had that feel of a small town. More than twenty-five thousand people now called the City-ship their home, making a life for themselves and their families in space.

Many restaurants with all types of world cuisine were opened; in fact, Elizabeth and he had already visited several. In his opinion, they were comparable with the best ones he ever visited on Earth. It was nice being able to go out in the evening, but at the same time a bit annoying. Everywhere they went, people looked up to him as if he was some sort of a national hero.

Commander Dax, who with his family emigrated to the Solarian Union, told him that he should bask in it while he could as the fame fades with time. Well, Dax was an astronaut, even had a patch to confirm it, and had to endure his share of fame throughout his career. All the same, most of the time he went to the food court for a meal; it had a good selection and people were usually too busy eating themselves to bother him.

The Promenade, where all the restaurants were located, had all sorts of new establishments. So far, they had several movie theaters, numerous shops, and there was even talk about opening a proper mall. It helped that the Promenade was several miles long, so there is still more than plenty of space to expand, and they were effectively using only a third of it.

Every day, new faces could be seen on the ship. Jack’s recruitment efforts and their immigration policy were going at full steam. People were coming from all over the world, to be a part of the new future they were building. The immigration process was thorough and invasive, and that was the reason why they found many spies, every once in a while.

The Solarian Union was even polite when that happened, returning them back to the Earth… alive. Al suggested that a better lesson for their handlers would be to drop them down from orbit. In all fairness, Max may have dropped a few in some godforsaken places on Earth… nude, but unharmed. What is more, he even went so far to make a TV show about it.

Those who sent them wanted Solarian Union’s advanced technology and were persistent to the point of absurdity. The amounts of money they were offering for its acquisition were obscene. So far, they didn’t get one single bite, which made sense since Max compartmentalized everything. Besides Ares and him, nobody exactly knew how things worked. That didn’t mean that certain things were unknown to Earthers, the name by which everybody on the Ascension started calling those below.

Kids that were connected to many popular social sites, didn’t really care about security protocols and ‘need to know’ mentality. So, the secrets of CEI implants were out, as well as the AutoDocs, and artificial gravity. Those in power already knew about Max and Ares; they connected a few dots and drew a bigger picture. Nevertheless, it was one thing knowing about something, and quite another being capable of replicating it.

The nanites were simply not discussed; Michael’s worst nightmare was that the knowledge about them would leak out. That is why it was almost an unwritten law that no one possessing medical nanites in their body was allowed back to Earth unless they were purged from them first.

Most Earthers wanted Cerebral Enhancer Implants, it was a new wondrous tech gadget that they heard about, but the one they could not have. It was a phone, a computer, an entertainment system, and a personal assistant all in one—in your head.

Of course, it was so much more than that, but they sure had no intentions to educate them. Even some heads of states tried to use their connection with Michael to acquire one. Well, there was a plan to make them available for the general Earth’s population, yet that was tied in with one of Michael’s plans, which was still under development. It was not just yet the right time to propose that particular deal to Earth’s governments.

There were multiple attempts to hack into CEIs, especially those that belonged to the teenagers whose lives were inseparable from social networks. But with all the safeguards that Max had installed into them—it was impossible, and Ares got a kick out of going after the perpetrators. Cleaning out their accounts, erasing their identities and getting them in the heap of trouble. It was Max’s way of teaching the young AI about the cause and consequences of actions.

Meanwhile, most of the Solarian Union citizens already had their own implants; a somewhat lesser version of the one that was in Michael’s, and the team’s heads, but still light years ahead of the current Earth’s tech. By Max’s figures, more than 90% of all adults older than sixteen went through with the procedure. That was the age of the cutoff; any earlier and it was deemed it could impede their personal growth. It was the age when they became legal adults, with all the rights and obligations that entailed.

Solarian bank now had a real office, with a sign and everything. Michael didn’t understand at first why Max built it since everything was done electronically. Then Max explained that it was for the new immigrants who felt more reassured if there was an actual person they dealt with when they were transferring all their financial assets from Earth.

He took another sip of beer and pondered the fate of Philip Cain, sailing on his way to the Andromeda galaxy. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought that someday, in a far distant future, some alien civilization in Andromeda will find them as they pass through their system. They will probably try to comprehend the mystery of why someone would be crazy enough to set on such a voyage without a ship’s engine.

He didn’t feel even a morsel of regret for the ‘High Council’s fate, with all sins on their souls, they should be heading straight to hell. Max had done a splendid job of appropriating almost all of the ‘High Council’s assets; the final count was more than a trillion dollars in liquid assets and many times more than that in the real estate. If anything, the Solarian Union was financially secure for the time being.

In the end, he had to inform President Craig Garner of his rival’s whereabouts. The problem was that the President had nightmares about Vice President Cain coming back and paralyzing him again. After he shared that with Michael, he told him everything, under a solemn promise that he would carry that secret to his grave. He even displayed him the video file of their last conversation and then had to wait a few minutes for President Garner to stop laughing. Afterward, Michael arranged a small gift to be given to the President; a crystal paperweight in the shape of Philip Cain’s modified transporter prison. Every time President Garner made a public address from the Oval Office, he could see that same paperweight standing on the Resolute desk.

Michael smiled again, thinking about the show Elizabeth and he watched last night. It was Survivor: drug cartel edition, in its second season. The new desert island natives managed to make a small village in the center of it; with bamboo and mud huts. As far as reality television goes, this was as real as it could be. For all that, there was already a split in the group; which wasn’t that unexpected. Some of the prisoners accepted their new lives and were settling into a more domesticated way of life. It was human nature really, to want some stability no matter the circumstances. On the other hand, Diego Garcia, the head honcho, was mostly sad; spending the days beside his cocaine, and reading the Lord of the Flies, repeatedly. There were bets on the Ascension, revolving about how long he would last before he finally broke and joined that, more romantically inclined part of the group—he had a lot of offers.

One of the most annoying things, concerning his personal view of himself, was that he has stopped being the old plain Michael Freeman. Apparently, the person in charge of the Solarian Union needed to have a title that goes before his name. He personally didn’t see the reason but was outvoted by everyone else. Many suggestions were offered; from the Emperor, King, President, Chairman, Master chef … the list was very long. Finally, choosing a lesser of many evils, Michael settled on the title of a Leader. Now he was known as the Leader of the Solarian Union, Michael Freeman. The whole thing sounded so pompous to someone who still saw himself as one more ex-soldier, yet, fighting it was an exercise in futility.

“Michael, I know this is your ‘personal time’ when you contemplate the meaning of life, and it is still not forty-two, just if you were wondering,” Max’s voice sounded through ship speakers, “but they really need you back on the Ascension. Another meeting is about to start and you know they will not move forward without your approval,” The AI said.

Michael glanced at the semitransparent watch on the edge of his vision and realized he spent three hours looking at the rotating Earth.

“All right, let’s go home. What is this one about?” He gloomily asked.

“Oh, we have a little bit of everything; general rules and regulations, the civilian population, agriculture, business interests, laws and statutes, formal policies… you know, all the fun stuff. Since you managed to dodge the last meeting, now you will have the pleasure of doing twice the work.” The AI said menacingly.

Michael groaned, and made the face as if he bit into something sour. “Max… I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Leader Michael Freeman, bitch all you want, but you have responsibilities now,” The AI said and showed his image on the holo-screen. “But you are all grown up, so put on your big boy pants, and get to work.”

Michael showed the AI a very rude gesture, using one particular finger on his right hand.

“Drive, chauffeur… no talking.” He said while imitating Napoleon’s pose with his hand tucked to the side of his shirt.

The ship engaged its Gravity-drive and speedily moved away from Earth, aiming towards the brightest star in the sky. Just before entering the Ascension, he glanced once again at the bottom of the ship that was turned towards Earth. The red logo on it was so out of place that he was struck speechless the first time he saw it.

It all began when Emma said that a gigantic flying saucer in Earth’s orbit was going to cause a constant feeling of anxiety to many people on the planet. They had grown up with the movies about alien attacks, and in their minds flying saucer was not something benign. Max’s idea to make the Ascension in this particular shape was not the best he ever had. It was an object engraved in the human subconscious mind as the one that brought probes carrying antagonists, which were up to no good. It did not make a lot of sense, but all the City-ship’s psychologists agreed upon it.

To defuse the negative psychological impact, they had to change the very perception of the ship. Michael still wasn’t sure if what they came up with was the right thing, but the deed was done and all the contracts were signed.

Max got in touch with the Coca-Cola Company marketing director, and through him with the entire Board of Directors. Somehow, they came to an agreement, and now the whole bottom of the Ascension was one big Coca-Cola logo sign; a red and white, mile-long advertisement. The reasoning behind it was that more than 90% of Earth’s population recognize the red and white logo and they couldn’t really be scared of such a familiar image when anyone on the planet can take a telescope and look at it. The company even started a big marketing campaign with the City-ship and the sign as the focus point. There were commercials and posters everywhere, even a free keychain with a small model of the City-ship, if one bought a six-pack. They played a short jingle if you pressed a button.

Max, snickering while telling it, found out that the whole Pepsi marketing team was fired for missing such an opportunity. By any standards, the deal he made was a doozy—those were his actual words. The Coca-Cola Company didn’t have to pay a cent for it since only two small paragraphs in the contract were what Max was after. First was to get their secret formula, which he was obliged not to divulge to anyone, and the second, he gained the rights to make the soda drink in question for all the Solarian Union residents… in perpetuity, with the condition that he wouldn’t sell it on Earth.

They should have read the small print as Max could distribute it everywhere else. Currently, that meant only the ship, but in time… Michael realized it was one of the worst deals Coca-Cola ever made if judging by Max’s snickering.

The logo needed to be there for the next five years, after which it could be taken down or turned off, since it was holographic anyway.

Michael shook his head as the Excalibur descended into the Ascension’s landing bay. So much for his time off, he needed to get back to work.

Book 3 - Chapter 2

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary Orbit

A few days later, Michael was just finishing with that day’s paperwork, which was now mostly in electronic form since he took Elizabeth’s advice and got himself an administrative assistant. Well, he did cheat a bit since the new assistant was Ares, who was kind enough to offer a few of his daily cycles to manage most of the day-to-day work. Max and his adopted son worked in tandem to lessen Michael’s burden of managing a new nation; there was simply too much stuff for one man, or a dozen, to do. In their spare time, those two were helping other members of the inner circle with their areas of responsibility.

Elizabeth had left a few minutes ago, after a quick visit. They were spending less time together than they used to. He realized that, but there was so much work, the days were simply not long enough. By the time they got into bed in the evening, both of them were exhausted. Therefore, any meaningful time they spent as a couple was in the morning, and a few times each month when they played hooky.

He was considering another trip with the Excalibur to orbit, or even to take Elizabeth and elope for a week. A month ago, they went on a trip to the Moon for a few days. Only two of them circling the Moon; as Elizabeth said, a perfect romantic getaway.

Earth's celestial companion was not so interesting after a few hours of exploration; dust, rocks, and craters are not good selling points for a tourist destination. Nevertheless, it was quite an exotic location, and watching the Earthrise from the Moon’s surface was a remarkable sight. Those were the best two days he had in a long time.

He remembered the plans he had when he was first going to his grandfather’s cabin, before all this began. He wanted to have more time for himself, to chill, unwind, and spend long afternoons reading books and listening to music. The reality has turned to be considerably different from that fantasy of his… not that he would change his life for anything.

Now he had something bigger than himself to live for, a purpose to make a bright future for all those people who followed him away from Earth.

Exhaling a deep breath, he electronically signed the last file when Max materialized his hologram in front of his desk.

“Hey, Michael, you’re taking the day off. I need to show you something.”

“If it’s another restaurant opening, I’ll pass. Emma already shanghaied me to five similar events in the last month, on account of public relations and stuff.”

“Nope, we are taking a little trip with the Excalibur; put on your battle-suit and let’s go. Look at the bright side, at least you won’t be bored,” the AI said with an excited infliction in his voice.

“Ares, is there anything else on the schedule?” Michael asked, looking at his computer screen.

“No, Uncle Michael. Dad made me clear your entire day, you can go and have fun,” the voice of the adolescent AI responded.

Half an hour later, Michael was sitting in the pilot’s chair on board of the spaceship, which was traveling at great speed away from Earth.

“Can you at least tell me where we are going?”

“We are on the intercept course with… something. It’ll take us about two and a half hours to get to our destination; it is halfway between Earth and Mars.”

“That’s not really giving much away; you are being obtuse on purpose,” he admonished the smug AI, and then murmured in his beard, “I hope it will be worth it.”

“Let’s just say it’s the biggest late birthday gift you have ever been given,” Max answered mischievously.

For the next few hours, they talked about inconsequential things, trying to figure out how much their thinking and the way they both looked at the world changed since that day when Michael fell down the Excalibur’s entrance shaft.

Close to the scheduled time to their destination, Max said, “We’re coming close, you can almost see it now.”

Michael looked at the holographic screen and could not see anything different in that blackness of space with tiny points of lights that indicated the position of countless stars.

“Okay… still not seeing it. Is it invisible?”

“Of course not, but look at the center of the screen.”

He regarded that place and a star that was much brighter than the others around it. As the minutes passed by, he realized it was not a star at all, but some sort of an object they were quickly approaching. At first, it was only a shiny dot, but it grew bigger and bigger.

“What is that thing?” Michael asked.

“Pay close attention and you’ll get it.”

Michael was focused on the shiny object, which quickly grew to the size of a golf ball. A conversation he had with Max a long time ago, popped back into his mind; it was about their future plans and all the things they wanted to build in space. Part of him suspected what it was, but it was still hard to believe it. As far as he knew, the object of that conversation was still just a concept, far from a finished product.

“Max…”

“Care to take a guess?” The AI said, barely holding in his laughter.

“It’s a… space station,” Michael whispered.

“Give the man a cigar, and he even got it right on the first try,” Max said in a teasing voice.

“But… how?”

“I’ll tell you later, for now, just observe.”

With each passing minute, their destination became larger. He could not even guess the size of it, but if he were to calculate the speed of their approach and the distance from the object… it was enormous. His eyes were so mesmerized by the image on the screen, he did not see Max’s prideful expression.

It was like approaching the Sun; even this far away from their star, enough photons reached the station’s reflecting surface for it to be quite distinctive. Very soon, most of the display was occupied by the new space station, while his mind was still having trouble believing its dimensions… and shape.

“Congratulations Max, you build your own Death Star,” Michael said, absent-mindedly, after realizing that the station was entirely spherical.

“That’s not funny… even if it resembles one.” Max snorted. “In point of fact, the design is surprisingly old; first proposed in nineteen twenty-nine by John Desmond Bernal, and he named it humbly, a Bernal sphere. The sphere was chosen for its optimal ability to contain air pressure and mass-efficiency for providing radiation shielding. Dr. Ross had the starting idea, and then we took that basic concept and made some modifications.”

While they were talking, the Excalibur had considerably decreased its speed, slowly approaching the station.

“How big is this thing?”

“It is a perfectly spherical shell twenty-five miles in diameter. As I said, the original design was rather simplistic; you create living space on the inside of the shell and then spin it around for gravity. Since we can manipulate gravity, the logical improvement was to build levels… many levels. There are four main residential levels that are around the middle or ‘the waist’ of the station; they have the most space and are each a quarter-mile in height, while the rest are mostly five hundred feet in height. Each level will be a fully self-contained ecosystem, with a slightly different climate that will support a native diversity of various plants.”

The AI’s face was beaming while describing the new station.

“The hull itself is two and a half miles thick, consisting of many layers with the last two being that crystal matrix I was encased with, and the surface of it is plated in Resistanium, the metal we found at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Add to that improved energy shields, and the station is all but impenetrable. When it is fully finished, it will be capable of sustaining the thriving population in millions.”

Michael managed to close his open mouth, his mind still in the state of information overload.

“But how in the world did you manage to… make it so big? He asked, looking at the station that by now has grown to gigantic proportions.

Max’s hologram showed a wide grin. “Archimedes said ‘Give me a place to stand, and a lever long enough, and I will move the world’; it is essentially the same concept. The first nanites probe we sent from Pagan Island had the mission to go to the Main Asteroid Belt and set up shop. It did, and those nanites exponentially multiplied. For a while, it was all they did until the entire mass of nanites started to exert its own gravity… that was my lever. When the optimal number of them was created, the governing MI started refining needed materials by consuming entire asteroids; and there is an almost unlimited supply of them in the belt. I could have made it even bigger, but that would take considerably more time; most levels are still being constructed from the inside… you know, small potatoes.” Max joked.

“The entire idea came from one of my conversations with Dr. Ross, about future habitats we could make. I asked him to utilize his think tank and design a perfect space station using all of the technology available to us, provided we had access to unlimited resources. I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when he realizes that it was not only a theoretical work for a far-future project.”

There was a mischievous look on his face, yet Michael only shook his head and continued to observe the station. The Excalibur was so close to it that the entire screen turned into a never-ending metal wall in front of them.

Max made the Excalibur fly a circle around the station, and Michael could see the different features of the outer hull. There were numerous outlines of circular hatches.

“What are those for?”

“Ah, well... The plans called for a few defensive measures, just in case of… I don’t really know. It seemed reckless not to give it some teeth in case it ever came under attack. So far, no weapon systems are built yet, even though they are on the list. If we ever get attacked, those on the receiving end will get some life-changing surprises.” Michael turned to the hologram and in its eyes saw the same expression he saw in the mirror when thinking about his enemies. That look never portended good things for those that caused it.

“So, would you like a tour of the inside?” The AI asked, with a wide grin back on his face. Looking every inch like a young man showing off his new car, petting it, and giving it silly names.

Michael nodded, and the Excalibur came closer to the station, almost touching it.

“Open Sesame,” Max said, and a massive one-hundred-foot-tall door opened before them. The new opening led straight into a well-lit corridor, which ended in another door, exactly like it.

“These doors are made out of Resistanium, and there are twenty-five of them. Each is acting as an airlock, ensuring atmospheric integrity within. Furthermore, this is only a side entrance; there are also two bigger landing bays at the poles, but they are still under construction.”

It took a while to get through each airlock since it wasn’t a straight path. Sometimes they had to go vertical and sometimes even horizontal. As Max described, it was a zigzag path that insured no one would ever get a lucky shot, however unlikely that scenario may be. As the twenty-fifth door opened before the ship, Michael couldn’t see anything in front of them, they had entered into absolute darkness.

“Max, did you forget something? It is rather dark in here,” Michael muttered.

“Since this is the first time a flesh and blood human has entered this vessel, I thought that you should do the honors; you know, with the magnitude of the moment,” the AI said, with a slight smirk.

Michael laughed, knowing exactly what he meant by that. “All right, Max… let there be light.”

Above the Stygian darkness a light appeared; slowly at first, until the entire ceiling started to glow. The best way to explain how he felt when he saw the entirety of it would be to say that he was thoroughly thunderstruck. It was difficult to imagine that this was just one level inside of the space station. The entire ceiling became a clear blue sky with a few clouds floating around. On the edges, where the walls were supposed to be… mountains stood proudly, making this entire place look as if it were a hidden mountain valley.

“The sky is holographic, of course, so are the upper parts of the mountains, but I think it gives it a nice touch, makes it homier. Besides, there are twenty miles to the opposite wall, so one doesn’t get that feeling of being in an enclosed space.”

“Max, this…” He couldn’t find the words to express the wonder he felt inside.

If it wasn’t for a very boring and utterly brown floor, and the fact that he could still see the metal doors behind him; Michael could have sworn that he was back on Earth.

“You can take a stroll outside; the atmosphere is perfectly breathable.” The AI said.

“How did you manage that out there in space?” he asked as the Excalibur descended to the ground, a few hundred feet from the entrance.

“It’s just basic chemistry. Take a little nitrogen, add a pinch of oxygen, mix it up, and add additional gases. Before you know it, you have breathable air. Since there was plenty of ice in the asteroid belt, mixing up some air was easy. A few of the top levels are entirely filled with ice; it’s more economical to tow it from the belt than lifting it from Earth later.”

Michael exited the craft, not even bothering to put on his helmet. The first breath of air brought a little surprise; it was very dry and lacking any odor. Most people do not usually notice the variety of scents that are constantly present in the air around them; here, their absence was strangely distinctive.

“It is still work in progress,” Max explained. “As a matter of fact, the station is completely devoid of life. The soil beneath your feet is made from minerals that were a side product of our mining process, but it has no organic matter, microorganisms, or bacteria, it’s completely sterile. All that needs to be additionally introduced. Essentially, the entire layer of topsoil needs to be added. We will have to ship that from Earth; and grass, trees, flowers, insects…”

Michael looked at the vast expanse, marveling at the incredible abundance of space he was seeing. Even the Ascension, which was a thousand times roomier than any space station humanity ever managed to build, felt tiny and claustrophobic in comparison to this. There was even a good-sized lake in the distance and a wavy river running from the mountains was feeding it. What drew his gaze was a big column in the center of the level, rising from the floor all the way to the holographic clouds.

“What is that at the center?” He pointed at the column that was completely covered in glass windows.

“That is a central support pillar which adds to the structural stability of the station. One mile in diameter and it has multiple purposes. The elevators that connect all the levels are within the pillar, and the outer surface is covered with apartments; they are quite nice, if I say so myself. Most of the people will live there in the beginning, but after we build additional structures and dwellings, they can move, if they do not like it there.”

“And each level is planned to be like this one?” Michael asked, unable to keep amazement from his voice.

“Well… not exactly. Those four central levels will be similar to this one, with a lot of green, forests, and rivers. Dr. Ross’s think tank, which had a task of determining the ideal living conditions, came up with this concept. The plan is to make this one habitable, and maybe another one, plus one that will have a small indoor sea or a big lake; we still have to decide what it will be. The rest can be finished if they are needed. The engines occupy the bottom two levels; it takes a lot to move this much mass, and don’t even get me started on braking, this puppy needs a long time to slow down. I’m thinking of putting a big sticker on the front that would say ‘We Brake for Nobody’” Max smirked again.

“Besides the ice, a few levels are filled with processed materials that will be needed to finish the interior, and a few of my projects. For all that, the nanite refineries at the asteroid belt are still working full-time.”

“Max… Don’t tell me…” By the nonchalant sound of the AI’s voice, Michael had an inkling what he was planning.

“Why build one when you can have two at twice the price?” the AI mischievously quoted one of their favorite movies. “But the next one will be built much slower and held in reserve within the belt. It takes a great amount of my computing power to oversee every little thing, even with communication lag. And I don’t see us hurting for space anytime soon.”

Michael contemplated that statement for a while, with images of the vast possibilities for the future going through his mind.

“How soon can we start bringing people over?”

“Well, the first group will arrive in a few hours. I may have offered them a chance of a lifetime if they could keep it a secret and were prepared to take a long trip. It is predominantly made of botanists and those that have the job of making this place livable. It’s going to take a lot of work to get to the stage where no one can differentiate this place from one on Earth. Their work will continue for some time; I don’t think we will have any takers at first for relocating here. It is interesting as a novelty, but the accommodations on the Ascension are a hundred times better. That is one of the crucial points Dr. Ross made, that people do not want to raise their families in sterile environments, and hence all this space and soil. What’s more, without using the holo-emitters to simulate the sky, many of them would start developing psychological problems. It is the same issue we came across when first building the Ascension. The mind is a tricky thing, and will believe the input eyes are sending it, even if it’s fake.”

Over the next few hours, Max had shown him several interesting places on this level. One was the spot where the river flowed into the lake. The river itself was fifty feet wide, with many bends to make it appear more natural. It wasn’t very deep, but the water was crystal clear. Since it was made from filtered asteroid ice, it was perfectly safe for consumption. The lake reminded him of the one in his grandfather’s mountain valley, except it was much larger, and its banks were bare of any vegetation.

The last place they visited before going back to the Ascension was the source of the river.

“Why is this place so familiar?” Michael asked, looking at tall cliffs.

“There were a couple of conceptual artists on Ben’s team, involved in designing this place, and I have a strong suspicion that they were avid Tolkien fans. In fact, it’s not ‘suspicion’ at all, they put the bloody names on the freaking plans. The settlement that is planned in the mountains will have a striking resemblance to Rivendell, and so many trees are planned for the entire floor, they even suggested that the name of the future forest should be Lothlórien. Let me tell you, never give fantasy fans freedom to name something.” The AI said in a morose voice.

Michael could not help but laugh. “I wouldn’t mind living in Rivendell, it sounds cool, but it will take some time for all those trees to grow,” he said looking at the immense valley.

“Not really, the plan is to do something similar to what we did with the Central Park in Ascension.”

“How? The Ascension was on Earth at that time.”

“It’s a matter of logistics. One of the botanists came up with the idea to build specialized transporters for their move to space; construction nanites will dig up the trees from the ground, roots and all. Then after bringing them here, they will be replanted while being provided enriched mineral supplements they need to get over the stress of the move. They have even put a few Sequoias on a wish-list, if you can believe it.”

Michael shook his head, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Still having trouble figuring out how they were planning to transport those giants inside the space station.

“Any more surprises?”

“Except for an ISS2 space station I have stored on the upper landing bay, that’s about it. There are a few things you will want to check out, but they are not essential so they can wait for some other day.”

Michael kneeled on top of the soft earth, grabbing a handful of dry soil and letting it run through his fingers.

“I remember the time when this all was no more than a vague idea in my head… look at us now. We are in the most amazing space station that was ever dreamed of,” he whispered, moved by Max’s creation.

“It took a lot of hard work and perseverance Michael; and really, the odds were stacked against you. The ‘High Council’, governments… every single one of them would have stopped this dream.”

Michael turned his head to look at the Excalibur. “And I’m sure they’re not done yet. Something is telling me there will be plenty more obstacles along the way. I have the same feeling now I had on Pagan Island before they found us… the calm before the storm.”

“And you will deal with new problems as you did with those before. We can only do our best and push forward; hell, if it was easy, everyone would do it.” The AI responded.

Michael dusted his hands and entered the Excalibur.

“I’ll check the ISS2 next time, let’s go home.”

Book 3 - Chapter 3

City-Ship Ascension

Conference Room

“Can we go?! Can we go! Can we go?!” Al said while jumping in his seat, just like a little kid.

That was Al’s reaction when Michael called everybody from the inner circle for an impromptu meeting and told them all about the new space station. The reaction of others was somewhat subtler, but he could see that the same childlike exuberance of Al’s, was bubbling underneath. That response was preceded by punch-drunk amazement and a few dropped jaws, while Max presented a holographic image of the station and its measurements.

Consequently, the Excalibur had to make another trip to the space station, by popular demand. Jack and Dave decided to take a rain check, since they were only attending by videoconference, and didn’t have the time to spare from all the work they were doing on Earth, no matter how entertaining the trip was promising to be.

Michael looked around the Excalibur, and the ship felt somewhat crowded.

Elizabeth, Tyron, Pete, and Alice were on the bridge, while Anna, Emma, Zizi, and Dr. Ross occupied the AutoDoc chamber. Al had to spend the trip sitting on the toilet in a small bathroom; and strangely, he wasn’t even complaining. When asked about his claustrophobia, he answered that he wasn’t feeling it here, on account of all the space around them. It just expressed itself when he was deep underwater, surrounded by all that deadly pressure; apparently, he was perfectly fine with the vacuum of space.

The approach to the station was as absorbing as the first time for Michael. Watching the enormous vessel grow in size had the beauty of its own; it reminded him of so many science fiction movies from his youth. While he had to suppress acting on that childlike thrill, Al had no trouble at all expressing it.

The first part of the station’s tour was quite similar to the one he previously experienced, except there were people now on the station; around two hundred botanists and other professionals had arrived in the meantime and set up shop. They were shoveling dirt, introducing needed microorganisms and bacteria, essential for the plant's growth. For now, they were concentrated on test patches that should give them valuable information for larger areas. Michael even saw one guy pulling a cart full of earthworms, and throwing them around as if he was throwing seeds on the ground. Poor creatures had no idea that they were vanguards of their entire species, going boldly where no earthworm has gone before.

This time they all went to the central support pillar in the middle and inspected the apartments built on all sides of it. They were quite spacious and modern, with a nice feature to make the entire outer wall transparent. They went there on Zizi’s urging, who wanted to see the view from the top floor. The kid used his connections with his mother, Elizabeth, and Ares, to secure the place on this trip.

Excalibur brought them to the foot of the pillar and they entered a quite normal looking elevator. The speed by which it took them to the top floor was anything but normal; the elevator traversed thirteen hundred feet (396.24 m) under a minute, without its occupants noticing the acceleration.

The view from the last apartment, right beneath the ceiling, was breathtaking. They were higher than the top of the Empire State building, and the transparent windows made it appear as if they were standing close to the edge of the cliff. The entire level spread before them, all the way to the nearest wall, which was ten miles (16 km) away. But there were no walls as such; the mountains rose to meet the sky at their eye level. A quite clever optical illusion; even standing close to the ceiling, they felt as if they were in the mountain valley and not in an enclosed level of the space station. The only thing that spoiled the view was the ground, which was still brown and dull, yet that will change in time.

Max gave them an impromptu lecture about a few station specs, which made them even more impressed by his creation. Just this level could comfortably accommodate up to one million people, and there were four residential levels planned. The optimal populace for the entire station would be around five million, and if they didn’t mind the crowd, it could go up as much as fifteen million. The plan was that all surplus population would have to move to one of the additional stations Max planned to build in the future. The vision of Earth’s overcrowded cities was something to be avoided.

Ten levels were reserved to be fully agricultural; at the end of the day, many hungry mouths needed to be fed. Though, it will take cargo transporters thousands of trips to bring enough topsoil to enrich the ground so it could sustainably grow food. Even while they were still in the apartment, Michael could see those transporters arriving and unloading rich dirt on the floor. Until the station’s food industry was fully operational, the food would still need to be imported from Earth, but once it started growing, it would be a whole different ball game. It involved Max’s plans to export the surplus back to the planet.

Max expanded the tour to include a visit to the upper landing bay where ISS2 was parked. Original plans called for building it close to the Ascension, but Max decided to do the whole thing in the Main Asteroid Belt. The abundance of materials found there, made the new plan more cost-efficient; in Earth’s orbit, the cost of the materials for it would be astronomical.

It was strange looking at it in its current environment; it seemed small and insignificant compared to the vast open space around it. The landing bay was much smaller than the main level, yet there were still miles from one side to the other. It could hold hundreds of cargo transporters and ISS2 had a diameter of only five hundred twenty-two feet (159.1 m). Still, vastly larger than its predecessor, which was currently holding orbit close to the Ascension. Their perception of size had gone through a strange metamorphosis in recent times. Even the City-ship looked minuscule compared to the main level, so the massive ISS2 was comparable to a child’s toy.

The new International Space Station was dome-shaped and had more than 200,000 ft.² (18580.6 m²) of legroom; what’s more, there were hundreds of windows on it, quite a different design than the Ascension or the new space station, which did not have any. Both latter vessels were designed emphasizing the protection from the cold and unpredictable space, hence their remarkably thick hulls. The ISS2 was a research station that will be placed in LEO — an acronym for the low-Earth orbit; the hull simply needed to be strong enough to keep the atmosphere in, and resist occasional collisions with micrometeorites.

It was constructed by using a big circular metal baseplate, which supported the dome. On the bottom side were numerous airlocks that would be used when the station was in a vacuum. Since it was made with Solarian proprietary technology, it would be given for use only, not ownership. From the beginning, it was designed to protect the S.U. tech built into it. Gravity plates that provided 1G of pull, and the cold fusion reactor that powered the entire station, were only two of many technologies built into it.

Plates were sandwiched between thick slabs of metal inside the baseplate, and the power plant was accessible only from the outside, behind a highly secured hatch. The machine intelligence operating it would immediately eject it and initiate its self-destruct sequence if any tampering was noticed. The station would then go in a safe mode and run on limited energy reserves; to ensure those on board would remain alive.

They entered inside of it, and everyone commented on how nice and spacious it looked. It was nothing elaborate like the Ascension, but far better than any station NASA, or other agencies, were able to put in space so far.

Dr. Ross was on cloud nine, from the first moment they saw the giant space station. Before he saw it with his own eyes, he was convinced the whole project was theoretical. He, his entire team, and Max came up with the concept and created detailed plans using CAD programs. Still, to see something he only dreamed about, real and mostly finished, was beyond exhilarating. In fact, Michael had a few scares when he thought the man would suffer a heart attack, despite medical nanites making that an impossibility.

When he calmed down, he started asking Max a river of questions, mostly technical in nature, but one Michael found very interesting.

“So Max, how long until the station arrives at its destination? And which one did you choose?” The doctor asked.

“By my calculations, it will take two more months; I needed to take into account a long deceleration procedure, so it hits the sweet spot. The station’s new home will be in Halo Orbit around Earth-Moon L1 Lagrange point. It is considerably closer to the Moon than the Earth, yet still a short trip to the Ascension or the planet itself with the transporter,” the AI answered.

“Hey, how do you think Earthers are going to react when this ginormous metal ball arrives?” Al yelled from the top of the ISS2, and Michael wondered how he managed to climb all the way there under 1G of artificial gravity.

“Oh, they will notice it long before that, it’s not like it’s invisible. It is simply too big to hide with holo-emitters, and it would be too much of a bother. We will need to issue a statement so they don’t start to panic,” Max answered.

Soon, Michael’s second trip to the station was over, and they boarded the Excalibur for the express return trip back to the City-ship. He watched through the transparent canopy as they exited the station, and as it became smaller with the increased distance. He looked at that shiny dot and knew it represented the future of his people, yet he also noticed how small it seemed compared to the vastness of space all around them. The discussion about the best way to break the news of the station's existence to the Earth itself ensued, and pulled him back from those deep and existential thoughts. There will be time for those contemplations, but right now, he had to deal with all the problems that will arise with the reveal.

Of course, Al enjoyed the ride back to the station sitting on a toilet seat, again.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Michael’s Office

“Why were we not informed about it before!” the Russian president demanded.

“Because there was no need to?” Michael responded, looking calmly at the upset man.

It was a videoconference Max arranged between him and the grouchy crowd; the name he sometimes used for all those faces of the world leaders looking at him from the holo-screens.

The news about the Solarian Union new space station hit all major news networks a day before, and it was done by a short statement by Michael, sitting behind this very desk in his office.

They had no choice since some amateur astronomers detected a new moving object closing in on Earth, and that nearly caused the very widespread panic Michael and the others were trying to avoid. His speech was followed by a few infomercials with a detailed mock-up of how a finished interior would look, and a call for immigrants that could apply on a website of the Solarian Union immigration office.

At first, people thought it was some kind of a joke, but when the first official telescope images showed up, the whole thing turned into a spectacle, and the press went into a frenzy.

That was the reason for this videoconference, a way to placate the numerous leaders of nations, who felt that they had the right to know about the station before that information was released to the public. They have been calling non-stop after he issued a statement, and he had no intention to speak to them separately… life was too short for that.

“I never saw you informing the entire world when you decide to build a new building or a new housing complex. Essentially, that is what this space station is to us, a bigger dwelling for our people.” Michael continued, talking to the Russian President.

“This is not a building! This is a gargantuan space station that will be hanging above our heads!” The fuming man kept raving.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Mister President, I sympathize with you, but what did you think? That we were simply going to stay on one spaceship and… wither. Every nation has a basic obligation to improve the living conditions of its citizens, and that is exactly what this is. I don’t see any sense in all your objections. Furthermore, the station will be closer to the Moon, permanently parked on Earth-Moon L1 Lagrange point, so you saying that it will hang over your head are stretching the facts. You’ll hardly even notice it.”

The man’s blood pressure was rising, judging by the vein pulsing on his forehead. “But that place is of strategic significance for Russia’s future… scientific efforts.”

Michael tried not to smile. “Well, my grandfather would say to you that the early bird gets the worm.”

“What?”

“Parking lot is occupied,” Michael said, trying to look dignified, and fighting a smirk.

“That’s unacceptable! What gives you the right to occupy that position in space?”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” he answered, wondering if his replies would make that vein even bigger.

The entire videoconference went downhill after that, accusations and recriminations were mostly flying in his direction. Yet, he did not really care and was getting fed up with their constant talks. It seemed to him as if those people had nothing else to do in their lives than to constantly argue about what was allowed and what was not. The Solarian Union had no intention to play by their rules, well, not yet. He needed them rattled, and unsettled; he was playing the role of a girl that was hard to get. One of the basic elements of human psychology was that everybody wanted something that was unobtainable. The S.U. had technologies they wanted, and he was planning to extract a high price for those parts he was willing to trade for.

The entire situation was so outside of their worldview, and they still didn’t quite come to grips with the City-ship, let alone a massive space station. The Russians were particularly jealous since they didn’t have one of the most advanced space programs anymore; compared to the S.U., they were practically trying to boost rickshaws into space. At least the USA and President Garner were not among the pushy ones, trying to be a voice of reason, and settling the rising passions of the international community.

In the following days, there were even a few talk shows where self-proclaimed experts stated that the whole thing was a hoax. According to them, it was impossible to build something so massive in space. The S.U. didn’t comment, despite all the mean taunts; in the end, there were still some people who believed that the Earth was flat.

Many TV evangelists and a platitude of representatives from several religions, screamed that the S.U. was going against the wishes of their respective gods, by trying to imitate the creator itself by copying his design. They constantly called for everyone in space to repent and return to the planet, a place they were meant to live, worship, and die. The people of the Solarian Union did the most sensible thing… they changed the channel.

Thousands of immigration applications were filed every day, with the understanding that the full colonization would not start for some time yet. All the same, that little fact did not slow the flood of applicants one little bit. So many people were more than ready to leave all the unsolvable problems that they had to deal with on Earth. The new space station offered much greener pastures and the chance to start a new life. Yet, not all applicants could; the selection process was very tough, and a good percentage of them gave up when they realized just how many hoops they needed to jump through to be allowed to emigrate.

The Solarian Union wanted people who were not afraid to reach for their dreams, and who were ready to fight for them. Those who would quit if things got a little tough, were not the ones they wanted anyway. Space was an unforgiving environment, and only those that showed enough resilience would be allowed to live there.

After a few weeks, things concerning the station settled down to a great degree. The novelty wore off. Besides, people’s attention span was rather short in this new digital age; there was always a new scandal or a viral video of a funny cat to focus the limelight on.

***

Earth, New York City

Grand Central Station

Faraz Kazi has waited for this day his entire life, all eighteen years of it. His heart overflowed with pride when the greatest man he had ever met chose him for this mission. Abdul al-Vasir said that God himself was speaking to him, and Faraz absorbed all Abdul’s teachings as if they were the Holy Scripture. Before the great man took him under his wing, Faraz was nothing more than a poor goat shepherd; doing exactly the same thing his ancestors did for centuries. He disregarded his father’s warnings about joining the Holy War; the old man was talking nonsense about staying home and finding happiness in simple things. On the other hand, al-Vasir was talking about achieving greatness and all the rewards that were waiting for him when he fulfilled the will of God.

Faraz looked around him while trying to remain inconspicuous. He was sitting at one of the benches in Grand Central Station and was appalled by the sights he was seeing. These people were all infidels and sinners; the women were dressed like harlots, displaying themselves to strangers and showing no dignity. They tempted even him with their uncovered flesh, making him have sinful thoughts. He used all his willpower to hold out against those base desires; they were the gateway to sin and God’s displeasure. Faraz took a deep breath and regained the peace within his soul; he will show all of them, he will be the hand that strikes into the hearts of these heretics.

He opened the backpack he was given and pressed a button on a complicated device within. The man who instructed him on its use said that it was an atomizer that would spread an invisible mist, using the attached pressure canister. There was a small hole on the side of the backpack, so the actions of the device would not be obvious. That was good, as his orders were to be unseen.

Nobody paid him any intention, owing to the fact that he was clean-shaven and wearing a Yankees baseball hat and a jersey. The clothes were also provided by the same man who gave him the device that was now active and running, spreading death in the air.

He was told that its effects will not show for a few days, but all those that breathed it in will eventually succumb to the disease. For some time, they will not show any symptoms, but the infected will spread it further; doing God’s will, without their knowledge.

Faraz was not afraid for himself; Abdul al-Vasir told him that he would be protected by the grace of God, the poison will not affect the faithful. Because of that, a sense of happiness spread within his soul, knowing he was successful in his task. This was so much more important than running after goats all the time.

Half an hour later, Faraz got up from his seat and boarded the train that stopped close to the safe house his contact provided. The canister was empty, its content now finding the fertile ground in the lungs of those unlucky enough to be here this day.

Before taking his seat, he smiled at the thought that this same thing was happening in several places around the world. His brothers in arms were also doing the will of God.

Book 3 - Chapter 4

City-Ship Ascension

Central Park

A week later, Michael was having a lunch date with Elizabeth in the park.

There were so many people doing the same, that the place was getting crowded. They were discussing some plans about eventually moving to the new space station when Max abruptly used emergency overrides on their CEIs, which were set to ‘Do Not Disturb’ settings.

“Michael, Elizabeth, the proverbial shit has hit the fan. Alice wants everybody in the conference room ASAP.”

Not even asking what it was about, Elizabeth and he packed their half-eaten food and disposed of it in the nearby recycling garbage can. His experience told him that when Max used that brisk tone of voice, it was never something good.

Five minutes later, they joined the others in the conference room, and Alice started talking even before they were properly seated.

“Half an hour ago we got confirmation about a medical emergency that has been developing on Earth,” Alice said matter-of-factly. “A bioterrorism attack has been conducted in several countries around the world, and nobody really knew about it until this video went online an hour ago.”

She waved her hand towards the wall and the video started playing on a holo-screen. Five people were sitting behind a long desk, their faces concealed with black balaclava masks. Behind them was a banner of the same color with white Arabic writing on it. They were sitting in silence for a few seconds before the one in the center started speaking in heavily accented English.

“This is a message to our enemies. You dared to challenge the might of the Islamic State, killed our brothers in arms, and rejected the only true faith. In your arrogance, you dared to hunt us, dared to wage war against those in whose hearts the law of Sharia reigns supreme. Today your citizens are under our feet, we have released the plague that will show you our might, and your children will pay for your deeds.”

The speaker made a dramatic pause before he continued again.

“This plague is just the first of many if you do not fulfill our demands. We want those heretic bounty sites taken down, our captured brothers set free, and those who thought to escape our judgment, by fleeing to space, brought down to face our punishment.

If you do not fulfill those demands in a week’s time, we will release the plagues that will end it all. Your action angered people who love death the way that you love your life. We will continue to wage jihad, and invade your land to establish a caliphate, where we will rule by Sharia law.”

The video ended, and the whole room remained in horrified silence… all except Al.

“If he plans to end all life, how does he intend to invade the land? I mean, he would be dead too. I don't think he thought this through,” he said, breaking everybody out of their dark moods.

“Al, be serious. This is quite real.” Alice reprimanded him and continued, “The plague they talked about has already spread in several cities around the world, but before this announcement, everybody thought it was simply a new strain of the flu. We managed to find out some information about his group. They are a nasty blend of ISIL and old Al-Qaeda members that had banded together, just for this attack. The CDC and several other health organizations announced a warning of a possible pandemic. There are identified cases in Israel, the USA, France, Russia, and England. By their best estimate, it was spread almost a week ago, and the thing is airborne. Consequently, the numbers of infected are growing by the hour. All the victims were initially diagnosed with the outbreak of some exotic flu, but this thing apparently has a five-day incubation period, during which the infected are highly contagious. Then, five days later, a total system shutdown occurs. In a few days, people will start to die in large numbers.”

“Did the CDC manage to identify it?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, the Russians beat them to it, which is not surprising since they were the ones that created it. If truth be told, it is quite big of them to step forward so quickly, they could have kept quiet, which is their usual M.O. Nevertheless, this time they came clean immediately and even supplied detailed info on the virus. A month ago, there was a break-in at one of their bio-weapons storage facilities; presumably, several strains of weaponized diseases were stolen. The Soviets developed them during the 70s and 80s, labeling them кошмары, which translates into nightmares. Combined, they have the potential to kill hundreds of millions, far worse than any A-bomb could do. Unfortunately, the thieves set a fire that destroyed that part of the facility, and the Russians are not exactly sure which diseases were stolen, and which were destroyed. They gave all the information they had on this particular pathogen, but are still tight-lipped about all others.”

Alice looked at Michael. “That is all we know so far… now we must decide what we will do.”

Several other people around the table closed their eyes, knowing that the days ahead will be filled with much sorrow. This was the kind of scenario people have dreaded for decades, even started wars just to stop the possibility of it; and now it was… a reality.

Michael took a moment to decide on their response to this horror. One thing he knew in his bones, they could not ignore it.

“Okay people, we need to deal with a few problems. One, help those people that are already sick and find a way to deal with this disease. Two, we need to hunt down those maniacs and destroy any additional bio-weapons before they are released,” he announced into the quiet room.

“Max, can this plague affect us?” He addressed the AI’s hologram, sitting on the other side of the table.

“Everyone with medical nanites is quite safe, since they bolster the immune system, in addition to dealing with the virus directly. However, 10% of our population still do not have them and they are at risk. Some are against them on religious grounds, and some are still scared to try the ‘new’ tech.”

“All right, and how fast can you bring ISS2 from the space station to low Earth orbit?”

The AI’s eyebrows rose upward. “If I use the Excalibur as a tow truck, the station can be here in about ten hours. You are thinking about using it as a treatment center?”

“Yes. Send the Excalibur toward the station immediately, and transfer all portable AutoDocs that are in the space station to ISS2. The ones that are on the Ascension will be transferred to cargo transporters. I have a strong feeling that we are going to need every single one of them before this is over.” Michael said, and turned to his side.

“Elizabeth, I need you and Emma to talk to our doctors and anyone who wants to help. We will need volunteers that are protected by medical nanites—a lot of them. The plan is to collect the infected and transfer them to ISS2 for treatment. Those people will need help, from organizing their transports and helping them to move. Also, alert the medical researchers to start the process of discovering a vaccine. I don’t think the AutoDocs will be enough; we will get them the viral samples as soon as possible.”

Elizabeth nodded and closed her eyes; the movement beneath her eyelids was a good indicator that she was using her CEI and ocular implants to start her task.

“The ISS2 should be big enough to receive massive numbers of patients, and if we start lacking room, use cargo transporters as mobile hospitals. Max, make sure that volunteers have enough nano-patches to stabilize the patients until they can be brought for treatment. I don’t have to emphasize that they are on our list of dangerous techs. If someone managed to get the sample and reverse-engineer the nanites… they could potentially create things that would be far worse than this plague,” Michael said.

“Don’t worry; I will program them to self-destruct if they are not where they are supposed to be.” The AI responded. “The nanites will tear each other apart, making them impossible to analyze.”

“What about the Ascension? We have a big hospital here, so maybe we should transfer some patients to it.” Dr. Ross suggested.

Michael looked the older man directly in the eyes and said, “No.” In a very decisive voice. “The Ascension will be under quarantine, and if we break it, we will possibly be exposing all of our population to the disease. We cannot waste resources by dealing with an outbreak in such an enclosed space. 10% or not, I will not expose them to unnecessary risk. Besides, I promised to protect them all, so… the Ascension will be off-limits to all those that are involved in the rescue effort. All of us who travel to Earth should not expect to return anytime soon.”

The others accepted his decision without any disagreements.

“Max, prepare one level on the space station as a quarantine that could be used after all this is finished,” Michael commanded.

“So, any questions?” He asked, and waited for a few moments in a silent room. “Right then, Max, call the presidents of affected countries; we need their help and agreements to collect the infected, and we need that as soon as possible.”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment and then opening them with a new determination.

“Tyron, Al, Pete, Alice… while the rescue effort is in progress, we will need to hunt down those responsible. We’ll break any rules, track any leads; this one needs to be done quick and dirty.”

After saying goodbye, Elizabeth and the others left the conference room. Leaving him with the members of his team, planning this next mission.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Michael’s Office

“We don’t have a vaccine, but we have medical treatments that will ensure the survival of infected individuals,” Michael said to the five leaders that were looking at him from the holo-screen. Their faces showed a great amount of a profound relief after he told them that there was something to be done, but since they were in the beginning stages of widespread panic, that was not too surprising. Michael now needed them to focus on what was coming, and he knew that some of them would not like it.

“We will do everything in our power to help, but there is still going to be a great loss of life,” he said. “I want you to explain to your medical workers and volunteers that they will be a priority if they get infected, so they have nothing to worry about. The problem will be those people who are unable or unwilling to ask for help. Old and feeble, those who live on the outskirts of societies, or even those who will want to refuse the treatments for one thing or another. Furthermore, there will even be people whose religious beliefs forbid them to be treated. You will need to do what is necessary to get them all aboard our transporters, or we are risking the emergence of additional hot-spots.” Michael tried to explain some of the things they were going to face, repeating many things the S.U. epidemiologists told him before this meeting.

“Leader Freeman, we will be breaking several of their basic human rights if we take them without their consent.” The President of France said, which caused more than one of the other heads of state to roll their eyes.

“I understand that,” Michael replied, knowing there was always one in any crowd. “This is a national emergency to all countries where the plague has spread. Declare martial law, and mobilize your National Guard, or military if it is needed. If we don’t get ahead of this epidemic, the loss of life will be staggering,” Michael said and was proud of his tact, when all he wanted to do was reach through the connection and hit the idiot on the head.

“The United States will do everything to make your people's efforts go more smoothly,” President Garner declared. “I will start giving orders immediately, Leader Freeman, and my nation thanks you for your assistance.”

Following him, each country agreed to his conditions. Some of them being that all transporters had the right to land unchallenged to emergency centers, where the infected would be collected. Moreover, Solarian Union personnel will not be interfered with, in any way. Additionally, each country agreed to send ten of their best virologists to the Ascension, where they would assist in the process of discovering a vaccine.

They would be given access to a whole lot of Solarian technology, including nano-assemblers, and supercomputer’s use, a.k.a. Max and Ares.

In any case, each one of them would have their credentials and backgrounds thoroughly checked. As Jack said, just because they were in the midst of a crisis, that didn’t mean that security agencies would miss such an opportunity.

Of course, he was right; every country had at least one of the candidates rejected on grounds that they were not what they claimed to be.

With everything set into motion, Michael and the team had to do the hardest thing of all; wait for any lead on the terrorists, so they could act. They passed the time by going over some possible tactical situations they could encounter on this mission.

Some people suggested that Michael, as the Leader of the Solarian Union, should sit this one out. He informed them that he would gladly resign if his title was an obstacle that would prevent him from going with his team. There was no way for him to sit behind the lines and watch those he considered his family, go into harm's way.

In any case, the succession in the event of his demise was already established; Max would be the one to hold the reins until the inner group chose someone from their ranks to take the hot seat.

***

Spaceship Excalibur

Destination: Earth

The ISS2 was moving at the speed that it could have never achieved on its own. The Excalibur had attached itself to the bottom side of the big metal baseplate and was looking like one of those small ants, carrying a weight many times larger than they were.

Its engines were redlined to their maximum capacity, and the AI flying it was glad that there were no people aboard, or on the ISS2. The small station didn’t have any inertial dampeners so a mere human wouldn’t survive the g-forces the spaceship was generating.

The flight plan was quite simple, and it has been a proven maneuver by several human probes; in fact, the big station left behind was using the same principle to come closer to Earth, just at much slower speeds.

For the first part of the flight, Max would accelerate the space station towards Earth, and at the halfway point, he would apply the thrust in the opposite direction for the braking maneuver. It was the fastest way to reach the planet and the most dangerous one.

The spaceship was not built for this kind of job, and only using a big part of his computational ability was Max even able to control the trajectory of an object that was so much bigger than the craft he resided in. The ISS2 was too big and too heavy; it was never meant to be a ship—there were no real engines on it. Small altitude corrections it needed in Low Earth’s orbit, would be done by using on-board chemical propellant; yet at these distances and speeds, those were practically useless. In space, controlling mass was the trickiest thing… the kinetic momentum ruled.

Guiding all that mass was made even more difficult by five hundred portable AutoDocs that were originally intended to be placed through the big space station. They were loaded all over the ISS2 and temporarily welded to the floor so they would not become flying missiles when the time came to hit the brakes.

Max was pushing the small spaceship to its maximum; giving everything the engines had to offer, for he knew that those AutoDocs were the only chance many people on Earth had left.

Book 3 - Chapter 5

Al-Qa'im, Iraq

Abdul al-Vasir knew that the time of his rise to power had come.

No more listening to others, and blindly following the commands of those who were unworthy of his God's grace.

Ever since their leader disappeared, close to a year ago, he did everything he deemed necessary to take the reins of their organization in his hands. It was liberating in a way, not having to listen to the endless rhetoric on how their attacks needed to be moderate and calculated, so those big world powers would not be too provoked. Abdul hated the previous leader; it was as if he were more concerned about making money, than following God’s will.

Abdul did not just want to provoke those great world powers—he wanted to destroy them. To bring them to their knees and listen to their sweet screams while they suffered the punishment for their false beliefs. The power over life and death over others was a thing people understood on a primal level, and he worked long and hard to become powerful. That is how he emerged as a new leader, by being utterly ruthless; not caring if men, women, or children died as a consequence of his actions, or commands.

If someone impartial were to describe Abdul al-Vasir’s personality, the words he would use would be extremism, hatred, greed, sadism, fanaticism, megalomania, and disregard for human life.

He hated them all, the infidels that had infected this beautiful world; The Christians in all their varieties, Hindus, Buddhist, Atheists, and even those that claimed to follow the ‘One True God’, but didn't have enough faith to give theirs and their children's lives to the fight and glory of God.

Well, he will fight that infection with one of his own; in the end, only those faithful will be left in this world. Only those whom God, in His infinite wisdom found worthy enough would survive. Abdul al-Vasir genuinely believed he was a messenger of a divine will.

Even if he had to make some compromises, no matter how much he did not want to. In the past months, his organization had suffered heavy losses, and his influence and ability to act were diminished. Those damned bounty sites had destroyed his network of sleeper agents, and many of his holy warriors were now in prisons, all over the world. It was the fault of those heretics that had escaped Earth and decided to live in space. Because of that, he had to reach out to other organizations that shared some of his beliefs; it was a necessity if his grand plan was to work. They had connections, and skillful agents of their own he needed, to ensure the maximal effect of God’s wrath.

The big space station those unbelievers built in the heavens was the final straw that made him act on his plan. As soon as the news about it reached him, he knew he had no more time to waste. They bragged about occupying a place that was forbidden for mortals; and so many had already traveled there, wanting to escape God’s wrath and punishment they so rightfully deserved.

He knew that the Russians had biological super-weapons, for years. It was a valuable piece of information he extracted long ago from one of their biologists his warriors captured, while he was with Doctors Without Borders mission. He did not even try to ransom that group, just killed them all when he realized how valuable that information was, and how it could advance his plans.

Abdul al-Vasir just needed to wait for the perfect moment. Once he took the power of the organization, he was free to act on his dreams. The deadly bioweapons were easily acquired, his agents only needed to target the weakest link in security. Afterward, those initial attacks were swiftly executed, without anyone being the wiser. Now, the undesirables will suffer and die, and he will have the pleasure to watch it all on TV. It would not stop there, he would not be satisfied until every one of them ceased to exist.

The heretics’ technology was the problem, it was the reason his people were being hunted. That is why he forbade the use of computers anywhere close to him, or to those involved with the plan. He felt vindicated with the righteousness of that decision, there was no one to discover the plan and stop them at the last minute.

Abdul yearned for the simpler world, when God would be respected and honored; when those who were beneath himself, a divine emissary on this world, would bend their knee in supplication.

***

Transporter 001

Destination: Russia, Moscow

The medical aid effort was well underway when Michael and the team got their first tangible lead. They all knew it was a matter of time, as Max had most of the world’s communication under his control. At least satellites and undersea Internet cables; he also had access to all net-connected cameras, and phones—all over the world.

From the moment they became aware of the situation, the AI started scanning all available video footage from the time of the break-in. Unfortunately, the bioweapons storage facility cameras only recorded men under masks, without any way to identify them. In spite of that, he managed to find a tangible lead they were looking for in an old ATM camera, close to the facility.

The thieves were driving a black nondescript van, without any plates and with shaded windows. Nevertheless, one still frame managed to capture a driver’s face. The face recognition programs identified him as one Pyotr Amagov; at least, that was his birth name before he changed it into Abdullah Mohammad when he converted to Islam. His family was of Chechen heritage, currently living and working in Russia. The interesting fact about him was where his father was employed.

For the last twenty years, he worked as one of the guards at that same bioweapons storage facility from which the weaponized strains were stolen.

That was why Michael, Tyron, Pete, Al, and Alice were now sitting in a transporter above the apartment building in Moscow, where Pyotr, a.k.a. Abdullah was living—with his parents. It was the middle of the night, but the city was still very much active.

As the family was living on the top floor of the apartment building, it made it so much easier for the team to come in from the roof. They disembarked from the transporter and entered the unlocked roof access stairways. Breaking into the Amagov family apartment was a child’s play by using a monomolecular edged knife on a lock, and then the team silently sneaked in.

Michael and Tyron did not waste any time and tranquilized all the people inside in a matter of seconds. They were asleep and didn’t even manage to fully wake up before tranquilizers put them under. Michael thought that it was quite strange to see Christian Orthodox icons and a cross in the parent’s room, and a big calligraphic representation of the words ‘One True God’ in their son’s room.

While they’ve left the parents to sleep in their bed, they took one thirty-year-old amateur terrorist and carried him back to the transporter.

“This idiot dyes his hair,” Alice said while looking at the man that Al had roughly thrown on the floor.

“What?” Pete asked.

Alice pointed at the young man’s head, which was covered with dark hair. Underneath it, half an inch of a blond root showed.

“Well, perhaps he wanted to fit in better with his new friends,” Pete replied and injected the man with a concoction that would negate the sedative.

Meanwhile, the transporter lifted a few miles up, holding the position until, hopefully, their captive would divulge where next the team needed to go.

In a few minutes, the young man started to wake up; confused, and looking at the strange place he was in, obviously not his room where he fell asleep.

“Mr. Amagov, I don’t suppose you would be willing to tell us everything we want to know about the break-in at bioweapons facility?” Michael said as soon as he saw the man was conscious enough to understand, while Max was translating his words. “It can save us so much time—and pain.”

The man looked at him from his place on the floor. “My name is Abdullah Mohammad, and I will tell you nothing, you infidel pig.” He said that in Russian, and then switched to Arabic and started to pray. He prayed for strength to the God of the religion he converted to.

Michael murmured, “Well, that is unfortunate,” and motioned for Tyron and Pete to place the interrogation helmet on the man’s head.

They sat in the transporter for the next thirty minutes, watching as the man experienced pleasure and excruciating pain. By the end, Pyotr was begging to tell them everything. He gave up the names and location of his friends, explained how they managed to break into a highly secured facility using his father’s stories about his job. The man even told them things they had no wish to know. For example, how he cheated on his girlfriend with a nice Iraqi boy; the same boy who introduced him to new terrorist friends, convinced him to convert, and recruited him for the cause.

It seemed that the guards at the facility often disabled alarms on one of the emergency exits, so they could sneak out from time to time for a smoke. It was an example of how addicts will always find a way, even if it means compromising national security. His father was foolish enough to tell that to his son, who in turn bragged about that security lapse to his new friends. The consequent events followed the natural course of cause and effect.

His friends happen to belong to a local ISIL cell that was living in a safe house on the outskirts of the city. The transporter immediately flew in that direction, while Abdullah was again safely asleep, after receiving a second tranquilizer dart.

The transporter arrived at their destination; Michael and the team disembarked in the backyard of the small house, under full camouflage. They moved through the unkempt garden, overridden with trash. It would seem that ISIL members were not big on property upkeep.

“Shall we knock?” Al asked when they approached the back door.

“It would be a polite thing to do, but I’m not feeling particularly polite right now,” Michael answered and lifted his foot to kick the doors in front of him.

“STOP!” The AI’s voice screamed in their implants. “Back away from the house!” He commanded a second later, in the same tone of voice.

Michael and the team reacted out of the gut reflex, integrated into them while in the military, obeying an order given with such voice inflection.

“Max, what is it?” Michael asked when they moved some fifty feet in the same direction they came from.

“Your suit sensors detected viral particles in the air. Only a few, but if my suspicion is correct that would have changed in an instant. If you opened that door, this whole area would be contaminated. Your battle-suits would protect you, but the people in the neighborhood would be affected.” The AI replied.

Michael looked at the ordinary-looking house, now feeling as if it was a live mine. “Well, damn… things have been going too easy… so, what now?”

“I already alerted a decontamination team we put together, and their transporter will arrive in half an hour. They need to neutralize the virus before you can enter the premises. The Russian authorities have offered to assist us and will block a one-mile radius perimeter around the house. We also need to test the surrounding houses for the infected.” The AI responded. “The best thing you can do is wait and not get in the way.”

Michael and the team returned to their transporter and did as instructed. Half an hour later, one big transporter landed at the nearby intersection and fifty people in hazmat suits exited. By that time, the police and military have already arrived in great numbers, blocking all traffic and movement. To Michael, it looked as if they kicked the hornet’s nest.

He approached one of the members of the decontamination team, while his colleagues were busy taking samples of air and earth, and were wrapping the entire house in cellophane.

“How long is this going to take?” Michael asked.

“Sir, we will be done in an hour. As soon as the house is secured, so no more viruses can get out, we are going to fumigate with the caustic agent to neutralize the virus.”

Michael and the others returned to the transporter and waited until the professionals were done with their jobs. It was always one of the most disliked parts of the missions, also known as hurry up, and wait. Another transporter came with the doctors, and they were soon joined by members of the Russian police, and they went from house to house, checking for any signs of infection.

“I’m bored,” Al said. “Can we at least go and grab something to eat?”

Tyron looked at him. “If you take off that helmet, I promise you, you will not be bored. In fact, maybe you should do it, and go to the house before it is cleared. That way we can see what effect this new disease has on our upgraded bodies, and how our nanites are actively fighting it.” Tyron replied.

“Ah… I think I just lost my appetite. I’ll pass.”

Michael rolled his eyes and returned to the thing he was doing before. The present crisis didn't mean his other job, being the Leader of the Solarian union, could be put on hold. Using his CEI, he went to the last batch of documents he had to read and digitally sign. He remembered when Max excitedly explained that with the implant, he could always be connected, and far more productive. From this point in time, he was not so sure about that particular selling point anymore.

“It seemed we were lucky for once,” Max’s voice emanated from the speakers, an hour later. “The house was well sealed due to the cold, so not enough viral particles got outside to infect anyone. You can go inside now; the virus has been neutralized.”

They approached the wrapped house, while several people in hazmat suits were using portable sprayers to saturate the outside grounds with a fine mist. There was now a portable plastic airlock mounted in front of the house entrance.

Michael was glad that his helmet prevented him from smelling anything outside, everything was covered with a neutralizing agent, even the four decomposing bodies in the living room. Luckily, they were already placed in taped up transparent body bags, prepared for transport.

“Those are the thieves that went into the facility with Pyotr,” Max said.

“Well, I don’t think they committed suicides,” Pete said, pointing at gunshot wounds that riddled their bodies.

“Especially this one,” Al replied, standing in front of one body bag. “Those are exit wounds on his chest, so it would be quite a feat to shoot himself in the back—unless he was double-jointed.”

“Get serious,” Michael said, “and start searching the place, there must be some clue of what happened here.”

The inside of the house was a mess, and it didn’t get that way because of the decontamination team. There were containers of takeout food remains all over the place, and some were starting to get moldy. After an hour of intensive search, they couldn’t find anything that would give them the next clue. The four terrorists were obviously killed by some other party, and all traces of the perpetrators were gone.

“Whoever killed them, cleaned up the place of any evidence,” Michael muttered.

“They could have at least taken out all the trash, this place is a pigsty,” Alice said while moving old newspapers with a stick.

“The trash…” Michael murmured and went inside. He needed to wait a minute for the decontamination team to cover him in neutralizing mist, as per the procedure. Then he immediately ran to the big dumpster down the street.

“You don’t think the killers would be that stupid?” Max asked through his implant.

“Never underestimate the laziness of people.” He said and opened the metal covering.

It took some time to rummage through disgusting contents of the dumpster, but among the rotten remains of food, and a few big rats that quickly scattered away, Michael found what he was searching for. A big black garbage bag that held something heavy; he opened it and looked inside. There were remains of four broken phones and one used plastic protection suit.

“I guess they were stupid after all.”

The garbage bag was brought to the house and sprayed by a neutralizing agent.

“Can you pull something out of this?” Michael asked Max, making sure that his camera suit picked up all the pieces of electronics that were broken into little pieces.

“Bring it to the transporter, and we shall see.” The AI replied.

They hurried to their spacecraft, and following Max’s instruction, Michael put all the smashed electronics into a mini nano-factory that was part of their emergency gear. The metallic goo crawled all over it, concentrating on a few small bits of the printed circuit.

“He broke the memory card, but he didn’t damage the chip itself.”

“He?” Michael asked.

“Yes, it seemed five people were living in that house.”

The holo-screen on the transporter lit up and showed the picture of five smiling men, sitting in the backyard of the house they had just left.

“The fifth one is missing; I’m running facial recognition as we speak—it may take a few minutes.”

Exactly two minutes later, Max’s face appeared on the screen. “I found him, one Amir al-Vasir. He was in the country on a student visa, but last night he left it. He boarded the special medical aid flight to Washington D.C. Nine and a half hours ago, and will be arriving at the Ronald Reagan National Airport in exactly one hour.”

“Can we get there in time?” Michael asked.

“Yes, with a sub-orbital flight—I suggest you fasten your seat-belts.”

The transporter started rising rapidly into the air, and Michael and the others hurried to their seats, after securing their prisoner with a few ties.

“Michael, one more thing,” The AI said. “I managed to retrieve one additional image from the phone. It’s a weather map that centers on the White House, and air currents of this time of year are superimposed over the image.”

There was no need to reply, they all knew what that meant.

***

Washington, D.C.

Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport

It was one of the fastest and most turbulent flights they have taken in the transporter. There were usually safety limiters that prevented the governing MI from going over the g-force limit that inertial dampers could counteract, but Max disabled them. Consequently, during a few stages of their flight, the gravitational forces were extreme, which was evident by their bound passenger, whose body was beginning to leak gases and fluids.

“Will he be alright?” Michael asked, indicating their prisoner while holding onto his armrests.

“He should be, I’m almost 70 % sure. Don’t worry, I will fix him if he gets broken,” the AI replied.

Transporters were quite different from the Excalibur, which had a greater percentage of its internal space dedicated to unseen machinery and could achieve far greater speeds without its passengers being the wiser. As their name said, they were created for transport, not coming even close to the maximum speed the spaceship could achieve.

“How are we on time?”

“Good, we will be on the ground five minutes before the plane lands, and we broke another speed record.” The AI answered. “You should be extra careful with apprehending him. This particular virus strain is quite different from the one used for the widespread attack. The contamination team analyzed it, and the Russians shared all data on it. This one is ten times more dangerous and virulent. Right now, we are barely managing the numbers of infected victims; if this new plague gets out… we’re going to fall behind, and that means a hell of a lot more casualties.”

Michael nodded. “Okay, we need to be fast and inconspicuous; as soon as you spot him, engage. We need to get him and the virus out of there before people start to panic.”

“And you cannot have your battle-suits on for this operation without causing a panic. The camouflage will be a disadvantage in crowds. While people may not see you, they will bump into you. There are sweatsuits in your emergency gear; I suggest you put them on.” Max informed them.

Trying to dress while being pressed into their seats by g-forces was not something any of them wanted to try, so they waited until the transporter slowed down for the landing, and then rushed to discard their equipment and get into new clothes.

The transporter was under full camouflage so they exited it close to the maintenance entrance, avoiding security checks that would have taken too much time. Michael put a baseball cap on, that was for some reason part of the emergency gear; hoping that no one would recognize him since now he was a public figure with his face plastered too often over the TV screens.

Ronald Reagan National Airport was one of the transportation hubs for the US, and normally a beehive of activity, but these were no ordinary times since people were scared to travel and there was a ban on most flights. This one was different since it carried medical professionals that were part of an international effort to stop the spread of the disease.

Michael and the team rushed to the airport, making sure not to draw too much attention to themselves, and arrived in time as the people were starting to disembark from the plane for Moscow.

Max used their CEIs and ocular implants to scan the faces of the newly arrived passengers; looking for the man in the picture they retrieved from Russia. In less than a minute, the man was spotted, and a red halo was superimposed over his body.

Amir al-Vasir was smiling as he was exiting the gate. There was nothing unusual about him, just a normal young man walking out from a long flight.

Michael didn’t know if it was a newly installed decontamination station waiting for the passengers, or the intense scrutiny he and his team were giving him even while trying to be inconspicuous, that alerted the man. Maybe it was some instinctive feeling that prey gets when entering the trap; no matter how—he made them. His whole posture and body language changed in an instant.

The entire capture plan they made was scrapped at that moment, there was no time to waste.

“Get him!” He sent through his CEI comms, as his body suddenly exploded into action.

The time slowed down as he activated his Boost, and started running, unnaturally fast, towards the man. All the chemicals coursing through his body were enabling him to leave Olympic athletes in the dust, yet even that was not fast enough to stop the alerted man to quickly reach into his pocket and throw the small container into the crowd.

Michael could not change his direction and go after it since his body had already gained too much momentum to reach it in time.

“Catch it!” he screamed through the link, hoping that others would be in the right place to intercept the container’s flight before it reached the ground and broke.

He was already in front of the man, and saw the fear in his eyes, just before he delivered a measured punch that knocked a young terrorist out. Michael immediately looked in the direction the container was thrown, only to see Alice catching it, a few inches above the floor.

“Create a distraction, we need to get lost,” he sent, and in the next moment all of them started moving toward the exit where the transporter was parked. He supported the man from one side, and Tyron from the other, while people were starting to react to the alarming situation. A few airport security agents were running toward them when a loud voice screamed, “He’s got a gun! Run for your lives!” It was Pete’s voice, creating the distraction they needed to make a successful extraction.

It was a stampede, with people going in all directions from the epicenter of the warning. Michael and the team took advantage of the situation they created, while airport security was trying to make heads and tails of what was happening. Not a nice thing to do, and it clashed with what one was allowed to yell in public places, but under the circumstances, they really didn’t have time to explain themselves. If people were inconvenienced and scared, well, it was a small price to pay considering they were almost victims of a biological terrorist attack.

A few minutes later, an invisible transporter lifted-off into the air, while the whole airport was being subdued by many TSA agents.

Book 3 - Chapter 6

Earth, London

Richmond Park

Elizabeth thought that this was what hell on earth looked like, as she carried another sick child into their transporter.

From the moment Michael decided that they would go all out to help those affected by this horrifying disease, she made a decision to be one of the volunteers. There was not even a bit of guilt for not being on the Ascension, and helping with the intelligence section, which was assisting Max in finding those who perpetrated this atrocity. They now had dozens of people with intelligence backgrounds that could do that job, she was not indispensable.

Here, doing everything she could to save as many lives as they possibly could—it mattered more.

This London site for the infected people was set up in Richmond Park, which was big enough to accommodate all the sick people. No hospital could take in so many patients, so this was the best option under the circumstances. The British Army helped with hundreds of their tents and mobile hospitals, providing shelter from the rainy English weather.

Yet, people didn’t stay here for long; as fast as one transporter landed and picked up the passengers, it lifted off and a second would come a few minutes later for the next group. Max and Ares were coordinating the entire operation, and it was running like a Swiss clock. The only crazy thing she saw were the protesters, who did not like what was happening in this area.

A good part of Richmond Park was fenced off and there were signs everywhere stating that the area was off-limits to everyone; two groups disregarded that warning.

The first were members of the natural environment conservationist movement, who were protesting how all their efforts were endangering the habitat of hundreds of deer that were living in the park. Elizabeth even saw a few of the animals, running through the woods.

The second group was the members of the Richmond Golf Club, which were apparently livid because of the damage their green playing fields were suffering. She still was not quite sure which of the two groups was crazier. Nonetheless, their activities exposed them to the infection, and they had to join all the people in the tents. Since they were still in the beginning stages, they were put on the end of the list for pickup to the ISS2, which Elizabeth found morbidly humorous.

Max managed to tow ISS2 into orbit in time, carrying within all portable AutoDocs the space station had. Those devices were already saving countless lives and were the only chance the infected people had to survive this plague.

So many people from the Ascension volunteered, responding to Michael’s call for help, more than they could ever possibly use; even with almost all available transporters used for the effort.

They were all a bit apprehensive at first, not sure what kind of welcome they would receive. Not so long ago, their families were taken into custody by those nations that wanted Solarian Union tech. But from the very first landing, they were treated with respect; she will need to speak with Michael afterward, to discover what exactly he said to the politicians, to ensure full cooperation from the afflicted countries.

Nano-patches that Max made in great numbers were true lifesavers. They were not powerful enough to stop the disease, but they slowed down its progress considerably, actively fighting the virus propagation. That little gadget was buying enough time for the transporters to carry the sick to ISS2 for treatment. So far, not one person who arrived at the gathering sites and received a nano-patch has died. Unfortunately, some were already dead on arrival and there was nothing else to do for them, except calling a hazmat team. Their bodies were taken to another site for cremation. It was horrifying to see their family members, in pain from a debilitating disease and grieving for their loved ones.

Elizabeth was assigned to one of the bigger transporters in their growing fleet, with all of its seats taken out so it could carry almost a hundred people into orbit. After the spacecraft docked, the patients were immediately transferred into silvery AutoDoc pods, which performed their miracles.

Just a few minutes inside one was all that it took, such a short period of time to decide the fate of so many. The treated people were transferred to another transporter that carried them to different centers on Earth, so they could recuperate. There was not enough time to address any other ailments they had, only to kill off the virus.

The thing that was breaking her heart was that they were transporting mostly the children, as they were more susceptible to this disease than adults were. So far, she had to talk twice to the parents of the children that were beyond any help, their small hearts had already stopped. Those parents were frantic, begging for help that she could not provide. How does one console a mother that is holding her dead baby in her arms?

Even while her heart was breaking, she could not stop; there were others in need of help… so she forced herself to move on.

“Will you make it stop hurting?” A little girl asked her as she was applying a nano-patch to her shoulder.

“Yes, sweetie,” she told the child, “you and your mom will fly to the space station, and there, the doctors will make you all better.”

The little girl hugged her, and whispered, “thank you,” quietly in her ear. She held her for a few seconds, and then the girl returned to the embrace of her mother. After applying a patch to a parent, Elizabeth moved on. The brave woman was ignoring her own pain to comfort a child; it was a scene she witnessed so many times.

The only break they made was to have a quick lunch, usually provided by the Army on site. Work lasted until the last patient they could fit inside was boarded. She used those moments of relative peace to check her mail using the CEI. Michael and she wrote short messages, just to stay in touch, and to give each other strength.

She checked the online news; they were mostly about the situation she was involved with. Tear-jerking stories, a consequence of an evil act.

Yet, one video made her lose her appetite; she clicked on it because it got millions of views in a very short time. Elizabeth immediately wished she did not… it was vile.

A self-proclaimed Ayatollah Mohammad Hussain Sefat was speaking at a big rally, before a multitude of happy faces.

“This plague is the will of God, a just punishment of the unfaithful and unworthy. Rejoice, you who are righteous, the day of his judgment is upon us.” The old man screamed to the cheering masses.

His face expressed joy, caused by the suffering of innocent people, and she wished that he was struck dead where he stood.

The man was denounced by all Islamic officials, yet, there were those among the uneducated and easily led astray who revered his hate-laced speech. He was currently on the top of all ‘most wanted’ lists, the first on all bounty sites; but he could not be found anywhere.

She knew that if she happened to be in his presence, she would rip his poisonous tongue out of his mouth.

Elizabeth closed the video and returned to her job; people were suffering, and she would do anything to help them.

***

Transporter 001

25 Miles Above Washington, D.C.

After securing their prisoner while giving him a full scan for viral infection and concealed weapons, Michael turned to Alice.

“Good catch,” he said, giving her the thumbs up.

She responded with a sour smile. “I almost peed myself,” she said while placing the container in a secure metal cylinder Max provided. “Let’s not do that again, bioweapons creep the hell out of me.”

Michael looked at the man that lay bound at their feet. “Let’s wake him up, and prepare the interrogation helmet.”

It was not a slow and gentle waking Amir al-Vasir experienced, but one of excruciating pain. Alice used a small needle and stuck it on the side of his jaw, in the same nerve cluster that usually sent toothache pain signals to the brain. It must have been very effective since the man’s eyes opened wide and his scream spread through the transporter.

“Mr. Amir al-Vasir, so nice of you to join us,” Michael said.

The man looked widely about the small craft, straining at his bonds.

“You kidnapped me! What do you want?” He answered in English, with a barely discernible accent.

“Well, you were about to kill a lot of people, so it’s somewhat self-explanatory. All the same, let us focus on the important things. Who sent you? And where are they located… we really want to know.” Michael said, sitting in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees.

Amir gave an evil smile and screamed, “Allahu Akbar!” Then immediately bit down hard on his teeth. There was a surprise on his face when the thing he expected and planned for, did not happen.

“If you’re looking for that false tooth with poison inside—don’t bother. We took the liberty of neutralizing the poison when you were brought aboard. As a consequence of you being in close contact with some extremely dangerous substances. So… will you be willing to talk now?” Michael asked.

“Rot in hell, infidel.” The man said and closed his mouth.

“Very well, have it your way,” Michael sighed.

It took no time to place the interrogation helmet on the young man’s head, and even less time for him to start talking.

Amir al-Vasir had an unusually low pain tolerance, which was surprising for a man who had no qualms about killing himself a few minutes ago. It seemed he abhorred any level of pain and very soon started begging for it to stop. His wish was granted after he promised to tell them everything they wanted to know.

He was a cousin of one of the organization leaders, and it was his uncle who sent him on this task. Amir was considerate enough to provide them with the location of his uncle, and the names of those who had planned this entire attack. It was a small Iraqi town, located near the Syrian border.

In fact, the young man was afraid that he would be sent to hell when he died because he seduced a Russian boy that they needed to help them acquire the viruses. His uncle convinced him that the only way he could redeem himself and wash that stain of his soul was to go in the devil's lair, to Washington, D.C., and take the head of the Great Satan, by releasing the virus close to the White House.

That all seemed a bit of convoluted logic to Michael, since it was his uncle who ordered him to seduce the boy in the first place; logic was obviously not a big thing with these people.

They directed their transporter toward the Middle East, carrying with them another tranquilized terrorist. Tyron placed his body on top of the Pyotr Amagov’s. They knew each other rather intimately, so he did not think they would mind.

***

USA, New York City

United Nations Headquarters

Arnold Feuer was always proud of his organizational skills. He liked when things went as planned and hated disorder to an unusual extent. That was why he was noticeably agitated by the chaos his work turned into in the last couple of days. Usually, he loved his job; it gave him a sense of importance he never experienced when he was a fitness instructor in Austria. Then, his cousin, who was an aspiring politician in the EU, got him this gig at the UN in New York City, which suited him just fine.

Being a security agent and the most important institution in the world made him feel significant, in the greater scheme of things. He was there to protect the people who governed a substantial part of the entire world.

Then the terrorists decided to spread some god-awful disease, which was all the news talked about. Even New York was hit, but he was not really alarmed by it. The news people said that the doctors and the National Guard were on top of it; collecting those that got the bug and sending them to space to be cured. It was weird and he had a hard time believing it at first, but it was not something he needed to think about; his job was to ensure the security of the United Nations.

He never was much of a thinker and liked only to deal with the things that were in front of him. Even so, the entire city looked like those videos of polluted Chinese metropolises, where everyone wore masks. His mother used to say, “better safe than sorry,” and he had always listened to her. As a precaution, he was wearing one of those surgical masks that were selling like hotcakes.

The UN headquarters has been a madhouse in recent days, and even now, he had to help prepare the building for an emergency meeting of the Council; they were supposed to discuss this health crisis.

What gave him a headache right now was an addition to the world art exhibit that was placed in the great hall. A ridiculous thing to do at this time, but there was always a chance that one of those representatives would be insulted if his country was not portrayed by some ugly piece of art. Therefore, he needed to expedite the installation as quickly as possible.

He even helped the four nice Middle Eastern men go through security checks, and then to place the sculpture on a pedestal meant for it, as it was quite heavy. They were extra careful not to damage the metal and glass ‘work of art’. Besides, he liked showing off his great strength, acquired over the years of intense training.

After they left, he stayed and looked at the sculpture, never really seeing the appeal of it. Then again, he was not big on art; dogs playing poker was more his kind of thing.

With this emergency taken care of, Arnold went to solve the next crisis; altogether, this place would turn into even greater chaos if he was not there to set things right.

Book 3 - Chapter 7

Al-Qa'im, Iraq

“Allahu Akbar,” Abdul al-Vasir said to the group of people gathered in his house.

Well, it was now, after the previous owners were disposed of. They dared to have such lavish dwellings when people were living in poverty. He took possession of it because it demonstrated his new status in the world, and because his God has willed it so. The bodies of the merchant family that built it were now nothing more than fertilizer, making the soil along the Euphrates River even more nourishing; they shared the same fate of all others who defied his will. Abdul truly believed that he was God's favorite warrior and that everything he said was inspired by the divine.

That is why he had to fight the impulse to kill the four people that were his guests; they did not acknowledge his connection with God but saw him as a mere mortal man.

“We saw that our warriors were successful in their holy task,” said Ayatollah Mohammad Hussain Sefat, sitting in the place of honor, at the low table.

It was one more thing that irritated Abdul; this man was not an Ayatollah, only called himself that, but so many young men listened to him, hanging on every word. Abdul needed the old man to finish his plan. The self-proclaimed Ayatollah was able to reach those that were not known as supporters of the cause, and they had managed to place the final piece, and the crown of his plan, in one of the most secure places on the planet. That, together with the task his own nephew Amir had to perform right in the center of Great Satan’s power, made him sure that the world would soon be a different place. A place where only the faithful would exist, forever in the comforting grace of God.

“But we are concerned about those that call themselves the Solarian Union; they have interfered and are healing those afflicted. All reports on television are saying that the plague is being contained,” said one of the men who made decisions for Al Qaeda.

Abdul held his tongue, kept in check that impulse to kill all those who dared to question his divine plan. It was always like this; those who claimed to be faithful showed weakness and doubt when some little thing did not go their way.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Abdul replied. “This is all just a beginning, and the real judgment of the infidels will start tonight.”

He told them about the next attack on Washington, D.C. That seems to calm them down, still, he needed more from them.

“Holy Ayatollah, I want to ask you to send a message to the faithful,” he said, looking at the old man. “The Solarians should be attacked at any opportunity. We could not reach them in space, but they are vulnerable now when they descend to Earth to pick up the sick. Suicide bombers, bomb trucks, and assaults should be done whenever they are on the ground. They are nothing but the servants of the Shaitan and those who kill them will be absolved of all sin and admitted to heaven,” Abdul bowed slightly to the sitting old man.

“It will be done,” the man graciously replied, stuffing his face with dried dates.

Now, after the important things were dealt with, he needed to entertain his guest for hours. The best food was prepared and they will gorge themselves at his expense. Abdul could not wait for the world to change, so he would not need to humiliate himself anymore by acting subservient to these people that did not deserve even a minute of his time. That time will come soon, and he could almost feel how important he would become, how much devotion the survivors would bestow upon him.

He looked at the clock and smiled… it wouldn’t be much longer.

***

Transporter 001

Destination: Al-Qa'im, Iraq

Their target was in Al-Qa'im, a small Iraqi town, nearly two hundred fifty miles northwest of Baghdad and very close to the Syrian border. It was actually a nice location, with a population of about 150,000 people.

For years, the town and surrounding region were controlled by the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant; they were the law and walked the streets fully armed. Those that were against their brutal rule, or showed any kind of resistance, disappeared under the sands. It was the nature of humanity to adapt, so the remaining population decided to get with the program, and stay alive.

During the trip there, Max gave them the unembellished numbers of the rescue effort. While the operation was working well, and they were managing to stop the spread of the infection—there were fatalities. Five days of incubation period was the average duration, but small children and very old people had much more fragile systems; they were beginning to succumb to the disease. The world news’ were all full of the heartbreaking stories of parents holding their sick children and begging for help. It was a nightmare on a global scale.

The evil genie had been released out of the bottle and there was no way of putting it back inside. There was even a ban on flights from affected areas. Still, several private planes tried to breach the quarantine and were subsequently shot down by their countries of origin, or the ones where they were planning to land. Only humanitarian flights towards those locations were allowed, and only after going through detail checks and full decontamination procedures. The measures were considered draconian by the majority of the people, but the lives of a few privileged individuals were a small price to pay to contain the spread of the contagion.

The S.U. transporters were landing all the time, staying grounded just enough for volunteers to receive the people on the stretchers, that had the least time to live, and immediately returning to space. Thousands of nano-patches were distributed to prolong the lives of the afflicted until they could be cured. Ares kept a careful watch on each one of those, making sure that particular genie would never manage to escape.

Michael looked at his team, sadness and pain could be read on all their faces while they watched the news… except for Alice. Her whole body was clenched, not moving a muscle, looking in front of her with no expression whatsoever. The silent tears were streaming down her face as she watched the latest images of the horror this plague was causing.

***

The town was situated along the Euphrates River, with lots of greenery due to the life-giving waterway. Although, a few miles in either direction, the desert reigned supreme. Quite a striking contrast when one was seeing the whole region from up above.

It did not take them long to find out where the leaders of this entire horror show resided. All they needed to do is search for the most ostentatious and heavily guarded building in the city, and there the culprits were. There was no reason for the leaders to hide since they completely controlled this entire region. Getting to them would be a little trickier since there were armed guards everywhere.

“What are we dealing with here Max?” Michael asked.

“Well, the bad news is that there are more than twenty-five thousand soldiers in the town itself, from different factions of terrorist groups, separated into camps. I don’t think they trust one another too much. The house itself is more of a fortress, but there are only about fifty of them there,” the AI answered.

“Can the tranquilizing mosquitoes take them out?”

The AI’s image shook his head. “I ran a few simulations and the chance of successful neutralization of all targets, without raising an alarm, would be highly unlikely. Those guards around the house are in the field of vision of others who are all around the building—all of them are alert, and they do not use technological means for communication. It seems several bigwigs of different factions are there for some meeting and they have some sort of a truce, but the tensions are high. Moreover, on account of the heat, many are in closed rooms, and they will be very difficult to inject with a tranquilizer. They can see outside and will see their friends falling unconscious; if only one of them fires a gun or sounds the alarm; it would be equivalent to kicking a hornet’s nest. Sorry guys, this one needs to be done in the old-fashioned way.”

Michael looked at the target below, and then at the holographic representation of the building plans, including where all the people were. After a few minutes, he smiled.

“What are you thinking?” Tyron asked, after seeing the expression on Michaels' face.

“Well, I think we need to sneak inside, and then take a page out of Cesar’s playbook—divide and conquer.”

It did not take long for them to implement Michael’s plan since it was quite a simple one. One of the new gizmos Max made was a gravity harness. It did the same thing as a parachute, except the landing was far more controlled. It had the energy for one use before it needed to be recharged, but one time was all they needed. The infiltration was not the problem, but the extraction would certainly be. Their camouflage would make getting into the building a piece of cake; taking the captives out of it would be noticed, so they needed a distraction.

Therefore, Max had sent a number of specialized drones from the Ascension while they prepared themselves for the mission, and they were quite unusual. They had the same camouflage technology built into them, with another addition, a set of strong directional speakers.

They jumped from high above the property, all within a few seconds of each other, and manipulated the harness controls to gently take them towards the flat roof of the house. Two guards were sitting there, smoking cigarettes, and talking. While still a few feet above the roof, both Michael and Tyron fired at the same moment, using subsonic rounds, and the guards died where they were sitting, while their last cigarettes were still smoldering. Pete and Al landed behind them, making hardly any sound, then hurried up and arranged the dead bodies so it would appear if they were still sitting, in case someone looked in their direction.

The house had four floors, and their targets were on the third. The latest scans done by the satellite revealed that there were eight guards plus five servants between them, and another twenty guards on the first and second floor, with twenty more around the house itself. If Michael’s plan worked, except those eight, all others will be none the wiser.

The first two were close to the stairs that lead to the roof, and they were promptly dispatched, acquiring new holes in their heads in quick succession. The second set of guards that guarded the stairs to the floor below had the same fate.

The team moved slowly, not making much noise, but knowing where their opponents were felt like a cheat. Even so, this was one cheat they were more than happy to exploit.

They repeated the same tactics on the next floor, and were quickly getting closer to their goal; their invisibility and advanced weapons made all the difference in the world.

Satellite imagery constantly updated the position of the guards, and they knew that the next thing would be a little trickier. Four guards were in front of the room they wanted to get into, but there were also five servants that they did not want to kill, no matter who their employers were.

“Pete, start on the servants, while we deal with the guards,” Michael sent over the comms.

On a count of three, they all opened fire; Pete with tranquilizers, and the others with subsonic flechette rounds. It was perfectly executed and in a couple of seconds, everyone was lying on the floor. Their choice of profession, and how they lead their lives, decided if their hearts still beat or not.

There was no time to waste, since the falling bodies most likely alerted those inside the room that something was not right, so Michael hurried towards them and pressed the handle, hoping that with so many guards it would not be locked. He was right, the doors opened and Tyron and he entered the room.

As per satellite images, there were five people in the opulent room. Sitting on the floor, around the low table that had all kinds of Middle-Eastern delicacies spread on top of it. They were involved in a heated conversation, unaware of what was happening.

As Al said, if this was a movie, it would be a perfect time to say something cool, but that would be beyond idiocy. He immediately started shooting at them, tranquilizer settings already chosen on his weapon. A split-second later, Tyron joined him until everyone at that table was unconscious.

“Max?” Michael sent through his implant.

“You are OK, the rest of the guards’ didn’t hear anything, but you better hurry, the guard shift is changing in a few minutes.”

“Boys, let’s load up, and get out of here.”

Tyron and Michael picked up two people each, and Al got the fifth. Pete was following them with his gun ready, making sure they would not be surprised from behind.

“All right Max, start the show,” said Michael, as they were coming close to the roof exit.

This was the dangerous part of the plan, not so much for them, but for the prizes they were carrying. To get to the transporter they needed to cross a fair distance on the roof, and it was visible from a few buildings around it. Their cargo didn't have any camouflage, and those buildings were filled with terrorists. If they saw the weird scene of floating bodies, there was a good chance that they would start shooting in their direction, and then the whole purpose of this mission would be jeopardized.

Those drones with the speakers, Max strategically placed before, started issuing orders to different groups of terrorists. Telling them that they have been betrayed by the opposite group, and to kill the traitors. Speakers used the audio effect of the sounds of automatic weapons to simulate the attacks, which was supplemented by Alice, whose job was to take a few commanders down with her sniper rifle, which considerably increased the chaos.

Max was right on the ball when he used a hornet's nest analogy, the entire area was an instant war zone; one group of terrorists shooting at another, and even causing a good amount of friendly fire. It was the perfect fog of war, where it was each man for himself.

Michael and the others waited for all the lookouts to clear, and boarded the transporter with their precious cargo. It lifted silently into the air, taking with them the very thing thousands of armed men in that town were trying to guard.

Book 3 - Chapter 8

Transporter 001

Destination: Al Anbar Desert

A hot, dry desert wind was making dust devils dance in the distance, as the lone transporter landed in the middle of nowhere.

Michael had asked Max to find them some nearby location that could be used for interrogation since the transporter was getting rather full. The AI chose a rock outcropping, a hundred miles into the Al Anbar Desert. It was not the most hospitable place on Earth. With virtually no rainfall during the year, one would be hard-pressed even to find a single blade of grass. Yet, it was a place with one redeeming feature—there were no people around.

After they carried the five unconscious men from the transporter, Alice gave them injections to neutralize the sedatives in their blood; the neutralizing agent acted very fast, and in a few minutes, they started to wake up.

“What is happening?” One of the men mumbled in Arabic, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision.

Michael gave them a few more moments before he spoke.

“If I can have your attention,” he said, and the five men lying on the ground looked at him.

“I think that any attempt to reason with you is an exercise in futility,” he continued while Max used his battle-suit external speakers and instantly translated those words into their language. “Nevertheless, I will try to be civil. There are a few questions I like answered, and the main one being the most important,” Michael said and looked at five confused men. “Where are the remaining biological weapons you stole from the Russians?”

The men looked at him with confusion in their eyes, until he said that last thing. Instead of answering him, they reacted by calling him names and spitting in his direction. One of them even started screeching at him and pointing at the older man, who was in a fit of rage.

“This is Ayatollah Mohammad Hussain Sefat; you are calling the wrath of God on your head for abducting him!”

Michael looked at the older man and the expression of hate on his face. “Personally, I don't care if he is the reincarnation of Donald Duck, this isn’t about religion. In fact, I have the utmost respect towards your deity, and all deities in general. But I have a strong suspicion that when you go to pay him a visit, he will kick your sorry asses straight to Tartarus, and if you think Hadeswill have a warm welcome for you... you’re probably right.”

The five men grew silent and looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he was talking about. Over the comms, Michael could hear Al snickering, until Max muted his connection.

“As I said before, I came for a few answers, and by all gods in heaven, I’m going to get them. We can do this in a civilized manner or… not. The decision is yours.”

“We have an entire city of soldiers that will be looking for us, and when they inevitably find you, you will be shown no mercy. You should let us go now, and start running,” a tall man with a long beard boastfully said.

Michael couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I don’t think they will be looking for you, they are having so much trouble of their own. You see, each of your groups believes that the other ones are responsible for your disappearance, so now they are engaged in a small war. Besides, we took the liberty to inform the Iraqi government what was happening, so they will soon be visiting Al-Qa'im. I have no doubts that they will use the chaos we so thoughtfully created, and wipe your followers off the face of the world.”

“You lie… you filthy pig!” The man screamed and tried to launch himself at Michael, but one kick from Tyron returned him to his place.

“I’m not lying, it is honest to God’s truth. But let us return to what we were discussing earlier; what is your decision?”

Their next outburst was even fouler than the first and left much to be desired, if one followed universal rules of civilized discourse.

“Is that your final answer?” Michael asked them and received a string of insults in return.

“I thought so,” he quietly said.

Almost immediately, the men were zip-tied and had interrogation helmets placed on their heads.

There were the usual signs that they were resisting the interrogation; the shakes, occasional seizures, and foaming at the mouth.

Despite the effectiveness that the helmets had shown so far, this time the subjects exhibited unusual resilience. Not that unexpected from true religious fanatics, those who were ready to kill untold millions and remained unmoved by the suffering of others.

They were zealots, obsessive in their single-mindedness and beliefs. Not like the ‘High Council’ members that were born with silver spoons in their mouth and obsessed with profit and power, or regular foot soldiers that were ultimately just sheep these men had sent to slaughter.

Michael already knew they would not be so easy to crack as those before them, but he still had some hope one of them would break. Max had set a limit on helmets for one hour since longer exposure could be fatal, and that was ultimately ineffective.

“What now?” Tyron asked.

“We will have to improvise, I have one more option, but it is… rather final.”

“Let me try first,” Alice said. “I have a score to settle.”

Michael looked at her and saw the unwavering resolve in her eyes.

“Okay,” he answered, hoping it was the right choice.

They removed the interrogation helmets and Michael addressed them again.

“Have you reconsidered? I will get to the truth, one way, or the other. You may not believe it, but the helmets are more humane interrogation techniques than the others we shall employ.”

Even with the aftershocks of wearing the helmets, sweaty and still foaming at the mouth, the five men sneered at them and continued their litany about the righteousness of their cause, and of the punishment that awaited those who had given their soul to the Shaitan.

Michael met Alice’s eyes for a moment, and then nodded.

Alice took her helmet off and looked at the bound men. At seeing that she was a woman their agitation increased to new heights, calling her a whore, a harlot, and threatening her with all the nasty things that shall befall her.

She looked at them for a moment, letting them vent, and then came close to the nearest man and hit his face with the slap that reverberated across the desert.

“Silence!” She shouted, and a second later, she was facing five silenced terrorist leaders.

“You are the sorriest excuses for human beings on the planet,” she told them in perfect Arabic. “This moment, people are suffering all over the world and you are the cause. I have seen mothers grieving over the bodies of their dead babies, children saying last goodbyes to their parents. You five should have never been born, for you are the real disease.”

They looked at her uncomprehending; the words she spoke were meaningless to them.

“So much pain… and for what? No God would have approved of this atrocity, only small minds of delusional men.”

She took a deep breath and her face changed; the anguish on it, from remembering images she saw, solidified into an emotional and detached mask.

“Three times he asked you, and you refused him… it was not a wise decision, now let’s try it my way.”

She grabbed the robes of the one with the dirtiest mouth and lifted him into the air. Not saying a word, she took the knife from her belt and cut off all of his clothes. He tried to resist, but the skeletal and muscular systems upgrades made her far stronger than him; Alice threw him on the ground, face down, and sat on his back while his feet were facing the other four men.

“If I’m not mistaken, part of your beliefs include seventy-two virgins waiting for you in heaven, when you die. Well, for you, it is the fulfillment of your fantasies, to them, it is most certainly hell. All the same, I think they will be disappointed by your inability to perform.”

Reaching between his legs, she performed a variation on the move other members of the team had seen once before. The swearing man was castrated with one quick cut of a knife. To those four men, it was a horrifying experience; their faces were frozen in masks of shock and horror as if they could not quite believe what they saw. Each of them was powerful in his own right, deciding the fates of many, and with a strong belief in their own invulnerability. Yet, before them was a mere woman, one of those that were supposed to be meek and obedient. They should do what they were told, obeying the commands of men, not acting in such an inhuman way. The foreign ones, like the one before them, were only good for a little fun before they were disposed of.

In their minds, this creature was not a woman—she was an evil spirit that came straight from hell.

“And I will do the same to each and every one of you if you don’t start talking.”

Alice looked them in the eyes, and held the open hand with the gory piece of flesh on her palm; drops of blood falling from her hand upon the screaming man’s thighs.

Two of the men broke, one of them was the self-proclaimed Ayatollah who suddenly wanted to confess his sins, but he was mostly babbling everything at once.

The fifth man screamed at them to shut up, or he will kill them all, calling them traitors to their God. Even so, their fear of Alice was far greater; she was material and here, not some unseen deity.

Tyron silenced the defiant one with one well-placed punch in the head.

The bioweapons were hidden in an old secret chemical laboratory deep in the same desert they were in; some two hundred miles away from their current position.

The laboratory was a remnant of the old regime, built for the production of chemical weapons. After the fall of Saddam Hussein, it was abandoned until they found out its location and took over. There, the Bioweapons were handled by those that had expertise in handling such dangerous material, and who believed in their holy cause. They were the ones that created easily transportable delivery devices. The next wave of attacks was supposed to start soon, but the only one who knew of the location was the fifth man, the defiant one.

After they said everything they knew, the two talkative ones were put against the wall, together with the new castrato. Alice stuck a nano-patch over his wound, so he would not bleed out. He was lying next to the one who received her slap; that one was missing a few teeth and had a very dislocated jaw.

Michael poured some water on the leader’s face until the man woke up.

“Abdul al-Vasir, your friends told an interesting story, and were very informative about your laboratory in Al Anbar, but it seems that you are the only one who knows the location of the next attack. Now, I don't suppose you changed your mind and decided to unburden your soul?”

Despite the situation he was in, the man actually grinned. Michael could see the pure madness in his eyes; an evil that would never submit.

“I am the chosen one, his emissary on earth. You will get nothing from me; it is my destiny to clean the world of the filth you represent. That bitch from hell can cut all she likes; I will never betray my God.” He sneered with all the scorn and contempt of a true believer.

“As you wish,” Michael said and pulled out a small cylinder from his belt. He unscrewed the top and extracted a syringe filled with yellow glowing liquid, which he immediately injected into Abdul al-Vasir’s neck.”

“My brother made this as a tool of last resort,” he informed the struggling man. “It is a concoction that can trace its roots to sodium thiopental, the truth drug. Yet this is something far more potent and efficient; you will be compelled to tell the whole truth, there will be no option of holding back. Unfortunately, it has one serious side effect—it can only be used once. After you tell us everything we need to know, your brain will be somewhat fried, as in, you will need help to wipe your own ass.”

The man continued to struggle for a while until the drug took effect and then he calmed down with a blissful expression on his face.

The story he told was much grimmer than they ever expected, even in their worst-case scenarios. Abdul al-Vasir knew for many years exactly what was hidden in that Russian bioweapons’ storage facility. He was waiting for the right time and the right set of circumstances to begin his plan. His agents managed to steal three separate virulent strains from the facility. Their instructions were so precise; even they did not know what exactly they were taking.

The first two were bad enough, but the third was one of the most horrific inventions of human ingenuity. It was a chimera virus, made by combining some of the most devastating viruses known to science; encapsulated so it could survive for long periods of time, and it had 99% fatality. The incubation period was almost an entire month, enough time for it to spread wide.

If released, it would be the end of humanity, and that was precisely what Abdul al-Vasir planned. He wanted to clean the entire planet of the nonbelievers. The true believers, led by him, would survive protected by their faith… everyone else would go to Hell.

By the expression of his companions’ faces, even they were not aware of the full magnitude of Abdul al-Vasir’s plans. For all that, the most horrifying thing was that there was only one more attack planned, the final one.

There was a bomb already placed at United Nations headquarters in New York City, and it was set to activate in four hours, during the General Assembly meeting. The representatives of their countries would then spread the disease across the world.

He even had a backup plan, in case something went wrong with the UN device. A few of his most fanatical followers were stationed at the laboratory in this very desert, and they had the orders to release the other half of the third vial into the wind, if they were attacked or when the prearranged time came. That wind would carry it towards Baghdad, and from there it would spread everywhere.

“Now we know,” Michael said to the others. “This idiot is… was as crazy as they come,” he looked at Abdul al-Vasir who had a big happy grin on his face, while drool was running down his chin.

“Let’s get moving, we are once again on the clock.”

After tranquilizing all the terrorist leaders again, they loaded them all up in the transporter. To save space, Tyron was stacking them like firewood in the cramped luggage space. He said that they did not mind their accommodations since he got no complaints from the unconscious men.

A few minutes later, they were on their way towards the laboratory in the center of Al Anbar Desert.

***

Transporter 001

Al Anbar Desert (Above the Laboratory)

The lab was disguised to match the desert terrain surrounding it, one could pass right beside it and be entirely oblivious that it was there. It resembled its surroundings in the ancient canyon, where it was built. That was the problem—it was built far too well.

Max’s scans and their own observation confirmed that there was no way to get in undetected; tranquilizing mosquitoes couldn't enter as it was completely sealed. The same air filters that ensured that nothing escaped from it, worked in reverse too.

There were enough detection devices around it to pinpoint a small mouse, let alone grown men. Lasers, pressure plates, infrared sensors… it would seem that no expenses were spared when it came to security.

Michael initially thought to use a Hammer, and destroy the entire facility. Max quickly crushed that idea, since their kinetic weapons could not deliver 100% cast-iron certainty that the virus culture inside the building would be destroyed. Not unless they used so much acceleration, that there was a serious possibility of causing massive earthquakes that would devastate the entire region. They needed something that could generate an incredible amount of heat and burn down the lab. Michael knew only one thing that did that.

“Do you have any ideas? We need to be in New York very soon.” Tyron asked him.

“I have one, but I do not like it,” he replied.

Tyron could see a distinct expression on Michael’s face that signified he was in deep thought, weighing his options; the same one he saw enough time when they were in the field.

After a minute Michael nodded and said, “Max, take us at full speed to New York.”

“What about the laboratory?” Alice asked while the transporter was already gaining altitude and speed.

“We will sit this one out,” he answered, and continued, “Max, contact the presidents of the attacked countries, I need to make a request.”

***

Transporter 001

Destination: USA, New York City

It took about twenty minutes for the leaders of the USA, Russia, France, England, and Israel to join the videoconference.

“Thank you for joining me on such short notice,” he began without preamble, and then addressed the Russian president, “You should have told us what the third virus culture did.”

The Russian president looked ten years older than the last time Michael spoke to him. He looked deflated and beaten when he tiredly answered.

“We didn't know until a few days ago, this was created and buried so long ago, and they were insane to make it. It was the time when clinical paranoia was encouraged. When the original files were found and I was briefed… I almost couldn't believe it.”

Michael did not want to hear any more excuses; they had much bigger problems to deal with now.

“It doesn't matter anymore, you can all debate this whole fiasco when it’s over, then better make some new agreements about the weapons of mass destruction. Place better security on anything else that could possibly bite us in our collective asses in the future.”

He paused and took a deep breath. “Gentlemen, I need you to do something drastic, we have a location where the bioweapons are held, but there is no way to enter the facility without alarming the terrorists. At the first sign of trouble, they have been ordered to release the weaponized virus cultures, and that cannot be allowed to happen. So, my request to you is the use of a nuclear weapon, it will ensure a total neutralization of the bioweapons.”

He waited in silence while the presidents were still reeling in shock. This was not something to take lightly, and the calm way in which Michael delivered the request was a bit disturbing.

The Russian president broke the silence. “The Russian Federation will do it, it is our mess after all,” he said, with a steely edge in his voice.

Michael nodded and he could see the signs of relief on the remaining four men, as if a sudden burden they did not know they carried, lifted off their shoulders.

“All right, that one is settled, but we have one more problem to deal with. There is a bomb placed in UN Headquarters, and it is scheduled to detonate in two hours. Its activation is planned to disperse the third strain of the virus. President Garner,” Michael turned toward the man he considered his friend, “I need you to evacuate the building, but do not search for the bomb since it has anti-tampering sensors beside the timer. My team will get there within an hour, and we will take care of it, just make sure we have immediate and undisturbed access to the UN headquarters.”

“It will not be a problem, I will give the orders immediately,” President Garner replied.

“Oh yes, one more thing,” said Michael.” I have in my custody all the ringleaders of this atrocity and a few of their helpers. Have some agents at the site to take them off our hands, they should be held accountable for their crimes. You can settle between yourselves who gets to try them, but I would advise on a country that still practices the death penalty. If anyone ever deserved it—they did.”

After giving the Russian President coordinates of the terrorist’s laboratory, he said goodbye to them.

“Why are we giving the prisoners away?” Al asked. “We could throw them out of the airlock, and save everyone the trouble.”

Michael shook his head. “Because people need someone to blame, someone to punish for all that happened. This attack is already traumatizing entire countries; if they do not get even a small sense that justice was done, there will be random attacks on ordinary Muslim people who had nothing to do with these extremists. As in all things in life, people need closure to help them heal emotional wounds,” he replied and then addressed the AI. “Max, have one small transporter meet us at the UN building, and send one hover-board on it.”

The gravitational forces started climbing again as the transporter rushed toward the North American continent.

***

USA, New York City

The United Nations Headquarters

Their transporter brought them to the UN Headquarters, where they could see that a barricade was placed around the complex. Also, there were hundreds of onlookers lining the emergency barriers.

It never ceased to amaze Michael how people were so curious, particularly in situations when they could come to harm by just standing there. It was as if the self-preservation instinct of theirs, was somehow dampened when the critical mass was reached.

“They started gathering when the evacuation was announced,” Max said, “And the press arrived swiftly; this is a prime example that some people don’t have two brain cells to rub together.”

A few minutes before they reached New York City, the AI informed them that the Russian president had already bombed the laboratory site. The information was still fresh, but it will not be long before it traveled the globe. It would seem that the Russians were taking every precaution that the viruses would be absolutely neutralized. Instead of a tactical Nuke of a few kilotons, as Michael advised, the bomb they sent was in the megaton range. The mushroom cloud Max showed them was a few miles high, reaching the upper layers of Earth’s atmosphere.

The transporter, which had canceled its camouflage, slowly approached the ground, landing in front of the General Assembly building. Meanwhile, hundreds of telephones and cameras were flashing, taking pictures and videos while spontaneous applause came from the whole mass of people. Michael saw that one empty transporter was already waiting for them in front of the building.

“Why the hell are they clapping?” Al asked.

“They heard you were coming; those are all your fans.” Pete immediately answered.

“Huh?”

“How the hell should we know why they are clapping, maybe they think Elvis is coming back,” Pete said, shaking his head.

“We are the new show in town, and we did fly slowly down in a shiny flying saucer, it’s the novelty thing,” said Alice.

“If they really knew what was in that building, they would run to their cars and wouldn’t stop driving until there was no more available road in front of them,” Michael muttered.

The doors opened and they exited the craft, at which point the gathered people’s ovations increased to unhealthy sound levels.

The first man to approach them was wearing a full hazmat suit; Michael recognized his face through the clear plastic faceplate.

“Leader Freeman, I’m glad you could make it, some of us in the know were growing anxious.” The man said while offering his hand.

“Special Agent in Charge, we came as soon as we could. Congratulations on your promotion Martin, it was well deserved,” replied Michael, shaking the man’s hand.

“You know what they say, right place, right time,” Agent Martin smiled. “But on to the business at hand, we are bringing more backup to clear the idiots beyond the barricades, and we managed to evacuate the building. Unfortunately, UN security is making problems, they are still on the premises and refuse to allow you to go unsupervised… it is a jurisdiction thing.” He explained apologetically.

“As long as we can get inside and deal with it, we don’t care. Let’s go, that bomb in there is making my skin crawl.”

Led by the Secret Service agent, they entered the UN General Assembly building, disregarding the loud noise that followed them. The inconvenience they were warned about waited for them a few feet inside the building’s lobby. Five United Nations Security officers with uniforms that closely resembled that of NYPD, stood in a line, baring the way inside. Al smirked when he saw that on their faces, they were all wearing regular blue surgical masks.

“Stop right there, we will need some identification!” The one in front of others demanded, his nametag said Arnold Feuer, clearly in charge and eager to establish his authority.

“I get it that one idiot is born every minute, but must we encounter every single one of them?” Al sent through the comms.

Martin tried to explain the situation, but the officers did not give any indication of relenting and letting them through.

“Gentlemen,” Michael said looking at them. “I am sure you were informed that there was a bomb on the premises, hence the reason for the evacuation, but you may not know that it is Biological in nature. Once exposed to it, there is a 99% chance that you will die horribly and in excruciating pain. We are dressed in suits that are going to protect us from it, as is agent Martin. You, on the other hand, will most definitely be infected; those masks on your faces offer zero protection. Now, we have a very short time to deal with it, or it will explode—make your choice, and make it fast.”

Over the comms, he told others that if these idiots did not get out of their way in a few seconds, they should just tranquilize them all.

It would seem that there was a break in communication somewhere down the line; all the officers’ faces became pale, for the first time hearing what they were dealing with.

“I…” The man, whose ID tag identified him as Arnold Feuer, started speaking in a shaky voice. “We didn’t know… you can go through.” He said and then moved to the side.

Michael nodded and proceeded through the lobby. After a few seconds, Al commented, “look at them go,” pointing with his hand towards the entrance. The five security officers were hightailing out of the building as if it was on fire.

It took them no time to find the bomb, Abdul al-Vasir gave them detailed information on what it looked like. It was in a sculpture, part of the open art exhibit from artists all over the world. The tricky thing was that the bomb was essentially part of the optical glass and metal sculpture, inserted there before the art piece was put together. There was no easy way to get to it; Max said that nanites would be able to disable it, but he wasn’t 100% sure that the bomb wouldn’t go off during disassembly.

“Okay, boys, and a girl, we are going to be a little inventive,” Michael said as everyone gathered around the sculpture.

“There is half an hour left on its timer, I suggest to do it faster rather than slower,” Max advised.

The sculpture was mounted on a hollow metal pedestal, like all the others around the great hall, where they were exhibited. Michael took his monomolecular knife and carefully cut out a long rectangular piece, directly under the upper plate of the pedestal, and then went to the other side and repeated the process.

“Al… gently slide the hover-board through the opening,” he said.

Al’s face was a definition of concentration as he gripped the flat device, he previously picked up from that second transporter, and slipped it underneath the sculpture.

After the board was in place, Michael used the knife to completely detach the upper pedestal plate and the sculpture from the base. Max has done the calculations, and the board will be able to sustain the weight of the sculpture for up to five minutes.

Each holding one corner, they slowly pushed it toward the exit.

As soon as they got out of the building, the mass of people started to cheer again. None of them reacted to the sudden noise, they continued to push the sculpture towards the smaller transporter. Once the big mass of glass and steel was inside, they all exited the craft.

“Max, get that thing into space, and aim the transporter towards the Sun… just in case,” Michael said.

They all stood where they were, looking as that transporter lifted towards the sky, carrying within it humanity’s death sentence. As soon as it cleared the Earth’s atmosphere, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Agent Martin, we have some gifts for you in our transporter,” Michael said.

“And don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Al quipped. “They were a little damaged during transport.”

It took a few minutes to transfer all of their prisoners collected from several places around the world. They stacked them up in front of agent Martin, who looked a bit stunned at the condition some of them were in.

With quick goodbyes, Michael and the team boarded their transporter, leaving the newly appointed Special Agent in Charge to deal with the situation around the UN Headquarters. Journalists’ were already testing the emergency barriers, shouting questions, while their photographers were developing carpal tunnel syndromes from taking countless photos.

The transporter stopped after reaching an altitude of a few miles.

Michael turned to the others. “I know you are tired and we have been jumping from one continent to another like a freaking Yo-yo. Nonetheless, I cannot just go home and have a cold one, while there are sick people all over the world who need help right now. Our transporter may not make a big difference, but every person we lift to the ISS2 is one more saved life. So… what do you say?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Alice said with a raised eyebrow.

The transporter changed direction towards the nearest location where the infected people were gathered. Maybe their contribution would only be a small decimal place in the end tally, but they were the people who had spent most of their lives working at protecting innocents—that was a hard habit to break.

Max told them that almost all their transporters were in use, with a few big ones serving as mobile hospitals for the worst hotspots where even a trip to the ISS2 would be too long to save them.

‘We’re coming to help.’ He sent a text message to Elizabeth through his CEI, hoping that all their efforts would not be in vain.

Book 3 - Chapter 10

The S.U. Space Station

Quarantine level

Nobody could go to the Ascension without a long stay in quarantine, the City-ship was in a precautionary lockdown. Moreover, Elizabeth and the others were exposed to a very high concentration of the virus while working with the patients, so even though the nanites were dealing with the infection, the virus was present in their bodies. As a result of that, they needed to travel to the new space station, into an isolated level Max prepared for just such an occasion. The field hospital they erected there was rudimentary, but still had a stationary AutoDoc and a few rooms.

“Hey beautiful,” Michael said as soon as he saw Elizabeth's eyes open, and she came to her senses. “How do you feel?”

She looked around herself and sighed, “Fine… but I guess I messed up… how could I be so gullible?”

“No, you were only trying to help; the situation was completely out of your control.”

“I remember a woman… and then… what happened?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “You were zapped with a very powerful stunner, and then kidnapped. Oh, and it looks like your kidnappers will soon be new citizens of the Solarian Union,” he said, with a resigned voice.

“What!” She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Well…” It took a few minutes to explain the entire bizarre situation to her, and in spite of the fact that she was a victim of it, Elizabeth could not help but laugh by the end of the story.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said, “I was kidnapped so a Chinese black ops team could lure you to follow them so… you could save them, and their families… what is that—a reversed Trojan horsestrategy?”

Michael’s face turned into an apologetic grimace, “In a nutshell… yeah.”

“That has to be the most convoluted plan I have ever heard of,” she said. “They should all be subjected to psychological exams.”

Michael smiled, “It kind of worked, so… if it’s crazy and it works…”

She smirked, “…it is still crazy.”

“Hmm… you are right, dear.”

“Don’t you dear me, what about the people who gave the order for them to kidnap one of ours. I thought we were somewhat safe after dealing with the North Korean leader. Was the message we sent not clear enough?”

“Oh, that is even more twisted. The Chinese government had nothing to do with it, but a covert section of their Ministry of State Security, their version of the CIA. Apparently, the upper echelons of the agency thought up a plan that would make them even more powerful, and they did not ask for approval or authorizations from their superiors. Don’t worry about them, Max and I got it covered—they will be taken care off.” Michael said in a voice that spelled nothing good for the guilty party.

“Fine, but there is still work to be done, so many sick people on Earth need us, and I feel like I’m slacking by lying here.”

“Hold your horses, Calamity Jane, the doctors said you need to be here for one more day, so relax. Don’t worry, the team and I are going back very soon.”

That was the all alone time they had; in the next few minutes her room was filled with the others who wanted to say hello.

“Max, did you get all the information we need?” Michael asked the AI after he said goodbye to Elizabeth and exited the room.

“Yes, and it is more than we expected. You can go to the Excalibur and do it from there, it is parked on this level. I will use holograms to make it look as if you were in your office, but you will need to hurry. There is just enough time to go over the high points before your scheduled videoconference with the Chinese president.

The Ministry of State Security had excellent cybersecurity, hidden behind the Great Firewall of China; that meant very little when one was dealing with a devious AI. Max has sent a few of his nanite-drones and they managed to connect the Ministry’s servers with the rest of the world, without them being the wiser. It was child’s play after that to browse through all the data and copy every single thing they needed. Max went the extra mile and cleaned out the Minister’s personal files that were hidden in a house he maintained off the books—for his mistress. As well as a few secret accounts, that had magically emptied.

In the end, the disappearance of money that did not exist officially was not something they could complain about.

Michael looked through the collected files and was pleasantly surprised about the contents; it would make the next conversation much more interesting.

“Good afternoon, President Zhengsheng,” Michael said after the link was established. “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. The matter at hand is urgent and of a very sensitive nature.”

“You are welcome, Leader Freeman; how can the People's Republic of China be of assistance?”

Michael looked at the man, “I want to tell you in advance that it gives me no pleasure to say this, but…”

It took some time for Michael to explain the circumstances that led to this call. As his story progressed, the Chinese president grew angry and threatening.

“How dare you accuse us of such things, this is an insult to our honor!” He shouted, while his face turned into an unhealthy shade of red.

“Mister President, I have no doubt that your honor is untarnished in this entire affair, but some of your subordinates were obviously doing things behind your back. I do not want to make a big deal out of this, as it would do no good to anyone, and could only damage the relationship between the Solarian Union and the People's Republic of China. That being said, I would like for you to do me a favor. I have sent to your computer a few files copied from the personal systems of some high-ranking members of the Ministry of State Security. Can we continue this conversation after you have reviewed them?”

The man reluctantly agreed and hastily cut the connection.

Ten minutes later, he was back on the holo-screen, with an entirely different expression on his face. Michael could see in his eyes barely suppressed rage, which was not aimed at him.

“Leader Freeman,” President Zhengsheng politely began, giving a slight nod. “I must apologize for the conduct of those below me; what they did was unforgivable and they will be punished for their crimes—severely. May I count on your discretion that those files will not be released to the public?”

Michael nodded, “You have my word, Mister President, and you can consider those files as good as destroyed.”

The conversation ended after both of them expressed a few more pleasantries and reassurances of the future cooperation between their respective countries. The Chinese president did have some urgent matters to deal with.

Michael had no illusions that the man did not care one bit about one of the Solarian citizens being kidnapped by his country’s clandestine agency; it was not unprecedented, and such things could be considered an everyday occurrence. However, he cared a great deal about the content of some other files Max copied. Like the one about himself, with attached videos of the carnal acts he performed with his two mistresses. Also, it seems he was an aficionado of cosplay, which was rather embarrassing for a man in his position. Those within the agency had screwed the poochwith that one; they had filmed him, and even worse, failed to keep the files to themselves, making him lose face.

Michael did not doubt that the head of the Ministry and many of his subordinates, with any knowledge of the affair, would disappear in the following days. In the political game that the Chinese practiced, forgiveness was hard to come by and failures were never pardoned.

You did not get second chances—you were just gone.

***

The S.U. Space Station

Quarantine level

Michael was sitting in front of his housing unit with a cold beer in his hand, enjoying the shine of the holographic sun on the ceiling. He did not mind one bit that it was fake, it felt real. Or as Al scientifically explained it, “If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck..."

It has been six days since the rescue effort was concluded, but the four weeks before that was a true nightmare. He still saw the faces of dead children in his dreams, and Elizabeth had to wake him up twice in the last few days, for he was shouting in his sleep. He was not the only one, thousands of people from the Ascension had volunteered to help, from transporting the victims to taking care of them after they went through a quick AutoDoc procedure; none of them went through that ordeal unscarred.

What ultimately stopped the spread of the disease were not medical nanites or the AutoDocs, but the groups of joined virologists on the Ascension that worked tirelessly and managed to successfully synthesize a therapeutic antigen vaccine. It was a second one they produced to fight the viral spread and was far more important than the first.

The first one was a normal vaccine, if given to a healthy human being, it would provide immunization after two weeks—which were two weeks too long. Furthermore, it only worked in 80% of the cases. Which meant that two out of every ten people were out of luck; the original virus was designed purposely to prevent total immunization.

On the other hand, the therapeutic antigen vaccine dealt directly against the virus present in a body, by stimulating the body's immune system to fight the infection. It healed those that it was given to; a cure in a very literal sense.

It went into immediate production and distribution; nano-factories went into overdrive and produced millions of doses, which were immediately sent all over the world. The traditional recipe for its making was made available to everyone, so the individual countries or pharmaceutical industries could make it by themselves.

In the next few days, the number of patients who needed the AutoDoc treatments lessened, until it completely stopped.

Michael and the others did not rest for the entire time, making countless trips, transporting patients and carrying them to ISS2 and the AutoDocs. Elizabeth, Emma, and Anna joined them on the first day after Elizabeth was released from the hospital, and by the end, everybody was physically and emotionally exhausted.

The last hurdle all the volunteers had to endure was the quarantine. They were banned from going to the Ascension, even if the risk was minimal and the vaccine was there in case of the infection. Yet, all the epidemiologists agreed that the live viral strains should not be introduced into such a close environment that still had a number of people who refused to get the preventive vaccine. They were held up to some old ways, particularly the part of the population that came from Africa, and were still resisting modern medicine. The quarantine was set for one week, and they could use that time to completely sterilize every piece of the equipment, the transporters, and the ISS2 itself.

The same level, Elizabeth was earlier admitted to, went through some changes. It had basic living accommodations, created by strings of modular housing units, and it was completely isolated from the future residential level, which was slowly being converted into a green oasis. When he first saw their new temporary place of residence, Michael thought that the level looked like an overgrown trailer park, with basic square units that had beds, bathrooms, and small living rooms. All those tired people were towed to the station inside ISS2, or flown by transporters they were assigned to. Once the necessary decontamination protocols were over, they dragged themselves to their assigned quarters and collectively fell asleep.

The final tally of the contagion was more than fifty thousand deaths. A number that was shockingly high to Michael, yet all the doctors involved considered it to be a miracle. Without the AutoDocs, nano-patches, and a vaccine… it would have been in the millions, and that was an optimistic assessment.

The first day after the return, Michael and the others spent mostly sleeping. Not that surprising really, as the human mind did not evolve to be in a wakeful state for days at the time, and they all pushed their enhanced bodies to the very limits of their endurance.

He vaguely remembered the arrival at this level, how their clothes, battle-suits, and even their weapons had to be taken to the sterilization facility Max had set up. Their bodies went through similar treatment, a series of baths and showers, ending in a full immersion nanite-dip.

Every single step was completed with the purpose to make them virus-free. Only then, they were allowed to fall into their beds, and Michael had to carry Elizabeth to their assigned housing unit. She was completely comfortable sleeping in his arms while being carried in a princess carry. The only reason he managed to find their quarters is that he blindly followed the directions on his HUD.

“Hey boss, isn’t it a little early for that?” Al said, as he pulled a plastic garden chair and sat across Michael.

“No, it’s just the right time… somewhere in the world,” he answered, and looked at the man who was wearing a bright orange Hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts.

“What’s with the costume?”

“Oh, I thought to brighten things up a little. Everybody so down lately, it’s downright depressing.”

Michael took another swig from his bottle and sighed contentedly.

“So… when will you tell the rest of us what the big plan is?” Al asked and grabbed himself a bottle of beer from a cooler beside the table.

“What big plan?” Michael asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“The one Max and you are cooking up, involving a tech trade with the Earthers, and asking for something big in return.”

Michael took another swig and asked resignedly. “Who else knows about it?”

“Well… everyone? That is why I am asking you, there is a betting pool going on, so if you give me the scoop, I’ll split it in half with you,” Al said with a brazen smile on his face.

Michael slowly shook his head. “You will find out when everyone else does. Besides, it is too early yet, and we need more time to iron out some wrinkles.”

“Damn…” Al replied, “If you change your mind you know where to find me. And half of the pot isn’t such a bad deal, maybe you can take that girl of yours on a fancy date with it.”

Before Michael could respond, Elizabeth showed up with Alice from the direction of the community canteen, it was the place all their meals came from.

“Why are you two drinking beer in the morning, and what was that I heard about a fancy date?” Elizabeth asked.

Michael gave Al an evil eye, but the supposed recipient was completely oblivious to it, as all his attention was focused on the pizza boxes the girls were carrying.

“Ah…” Michael tried to figure out what to say, while Al was busy helping the girls by taking the pies off their hands.

“Where did you get these?” Al excitedly asked while Elizabeth and Alice shared a meaningful look between them that Michael couldn’t decipher. It was always a mystery to him, that inborn ability of all women to have an entire conversation with a one shared look.

“Max brought a full transporter with them from the Ascension, it was by far the most requested food,” Alice replied.

In the next few minutes, Tyron and Pete appeared in front of Michael’s housing unit, as if summoned by the great spirit of pizza. They managed to clean every single slice and then watched Al as he started licking the boxes themselves, going after a few pieces of toppings that remained inside.

“Any plans for today?” Elizabeth asked Michael an hour later, their guests already gone after food and all of his beers were consumed.

“Yeah, I have a scheduled videoconference with President Garner, and then a small mountain of paperwork to go through,” Michael said with a yawn.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the afternoon,” Elizabeth said and then continued as she was getting up from the chair, “just don’t forget my fancy date.”

Michael weakly smiled, thinking of what he could do to get even with Al.

***

The S.U. Space Station

Aboard The Excalibur

“President Garner is on the line, he is waiting to talk to you,” Max informed him, a few hours later.

“Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes.”

He took off in the direction where the Excaliburwas parked and was soon sitting in the comfortable pilot’s chair.

“All right, put him through,” he said, while running his fingers through his hair, to make himself look more presentable.

“Hi, Michael, how are you doing?” President Garner said informally, once his image appeared on a holo-screen in front of Michael.

“Hey Craig, not bad, I have to stay in quarantine for one more day, but that doesn’t mean I can escape the paperwork.”

The other man’s face showed an understanding frown, “I know what you mean, this whole thing was such an enormous mess, and I have piles of it to go through myself. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you back, but this biological attack showed how unprepared we were for such an event, so I had been in constant meetings—for days. We spent billions trying to protect ourselves from exactly such a scenario, only to see it fail miserably,” the President stated.

Michael could see the toll this crisis had on the man, a few more wrinkles on his forehead, and a hunched posture he acquired.

The President took a deep breath. “Okay, the official stuff first; as the head of the United States of America, I am using this opportunity to convey this country’s gratitude for all the help the Solarian Union provided during this tragedy. It would have been a million times worse if you did not get involved, and I hate to imagine the death toll we would have without the AutoDocs and the vaccine.”

“Craig, we couldn’t just sit on our heavenly perch and look as the horror unfolded.”

The President shook his head. “You couldn’t, but we both know there are many governments that promptly closed their borders, in vain beliefs that they could stop the spread of the virus… human stupidity, at its best.”

Michael didn’t know what to say to that, so he nodded.

“All right,” the President continued, “that was enough blowing smoke up your ass. Now we can go off the record. So, unofficially… what the hell did you do with those terrorists you released into our custody? It seems one had some unelected gelding amateur surgery done to him, and he cannot stop crying, so he has to be constantly sedated. The freaking leader of this atrocity is on a mental level of a two-year-old, cannot even feed himself, and he has a constant happy grin on his face. The rest of them are talking like crazy, and are terrified that some female evil spirit will come to castrate them. I have human rights advocates screaming of gross violations, demanding for your arrests. To tell you the truth, I’m of half a mind to throw them all in jail too, if it weren’t for political blowback.”

Michael smirked. “You know what they say about the accidents that occur when you’re not wearing your seatbelt; those gentlemen simply didn’t follow all the safety precautions.” He looked at the President, who was rolling his eyes. “All joking aside, they had it coming for the things they did; and if they got a few bumps while being captured and interrogated, boohoo. I’m not going to feel sorry for them or explain myself to some softhearted idiots. We did what we had to do since time was of the essence, and I would make the exact same choices again.”

The President lifted both of his hands; his palms turned toward Michael. “Hey, I’m not criticizing what you had to do, just know that everybody has an opinion of how they will do certain things after the fact. I am giving you a heads up about those goody two shoes that will try to portray you as monsters. Be prepared for it, so it doesn’t surprise you when it happens.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Michael answered.

The President of the United States paused and leaned toward the camera.

“My sister was in London… she caught the bug… had to go to ISS2. Thank you, Michael.” The older man quietly said. “If there’s anything I can do to show you my gratitude… just say the word.”

Corner of Michael’s mouth lifted slightly, this was the opening he was waiting for.

“Actually, there is one thing, and it’s a big one.”

The President showed his surprise that he would be taken up so quickly on his offer.

Michael felt a pang of guilt that he was using this situation to further their agenda, but he was now responsible for the well-being of an entire nation, and that had to take precedence over his personal desires.

“I need you to pull some strings and organize an emergency special session of the UN General Assembly, in one month. Since everybody is after the Solarian Union to share our tech, well, I think it is the right time for us to do exactly that.”

President Garner looked at Michael while squinting his eyes. “What’s the catch? That has been on everyone’s agenda from the beginning, and you basically brushed everyone off. Now, spontaneously deciding to fulfill everyone’s wishes smells awfully funny to me.”

“Oh, we will play this with all our cards in the open, but the technology we have to offer will not be cheap. In fact, the compensation we will want in return may cause a few heart attacks.”

“I’m sure it will be quite a show, and I have a front row seat.” The President smiled. “Anyway, I have to go; this crazy schedule of late is seriously making me reconsider if I should run for another term.”

“Thanks for the warning, and I hope you stay where you are. God knows we need a friend in our corner.”

Michael said goodbye to the President and smiled to himself. The deal Max and he were preparing to make would make some people question his own sanity. Yet, all computer models Max made said the outcome had a very high probability to be favorable to the Solarian Union.

All they needed to do now is set the hook, and put some chum in the water.

He hoped the people of Earth would bite that hook with the alluring bait he planned to set.

Book 3 - Chapter 11

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary orbit

It was the morning of the next day and Michael had got up late, once again enjoying the luxury of his own bed. Not that anything was wrong with the beds on the massive space station, but he had already broken this one in, so sleep came much easier.

The quarantine had been officially lifted last night, and everybody was more than ready to return home to the Ascension. There was a quiet gathering organized to celebrate their return, but not actually a party, given that they were all still under the shroud of sadness, which so many deaths placed on them. Maybe it would be more appropriate to call it a wake; people enjoying the closeness of others, grateful that not one Solarian Union citizen had died from the plague that had killed so many.

Placed on a pillow beside him was a short message from Elizabeth. She informed him that she went early to work since the backlog in the intelligence section had grown to an impressive size. She could have left a message using her CEI, it would be far much easier, yet she always left handwritten notes, a habit she had no intention to break.

Michael poured himself a freshly brewed cup of coffee and went to his favorite place in the apartment. A small balcony, that reminded him of the deck on his grandfather’s cabin; he even placed his old Adirondack chair on it, one of the few salvaged things from the cabin’s destruction. Max had managed, through clever use of plants and holograms, to achieve an effect of open space; even the air had that distinctive scent of a pine forest.

The slight shimmering wave in the corner of his eyes told him that Max had materialized his hologram on the balcony.

“Michael, there is something on the station I need you to do,” The AI interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“Please tell me that it isn't another emergency, we just got home for goodness sake,” he grumbled into his cup.

“No, nothing of the sort, it is about that AI we retrieved from the bottom of the Mariana Trench. I finished building all the supporting systems needed to activate it. All that remains is to physically plug-in the AI-core and to see what we are dealing with. So… do you want to do the honors?” Max asked with a smirk.

Michael almost spat out the last sip of coffee. “O hell yeah, finally! I’ve been thinking about it from time to time, wondering what secrets were buried there.”

“I know, my records show you’ve been asking about it 3.7 times per week, so get dressed and I’ll warm up the Excalibur,” the AI told him, and then his hologram disappeared.

This time, the trip to the station was noticeably shorter as it was closing in on Earth. It had started executing breaking maneuvers, so it would arrive at its designated orbit with minimal velocity.

An hour later, he found himself again looking at the shiny colossal marble, which he saw as a promise for a greater future than he first envisioned.

The spaceship didn’t approach the station at its usual entrance in the middle, or the landing bay. Instead, the Excalibur flew to the very bottom.

“It is in a separate and secure level, where I built all the support systems needed to run that AI-core,”Max explained when he asked him about it. “The enclosure itself has no outside connection, except the single one that I control, and that can be disconnected at a moment’s notice—if something goes wrong.”

They went through the customary series of multiple airlocks until they entered the level itself. It was smaller than any other he had been to, with bare metal walls and a simple white ceiling, that emitted a plain diffused light.

The only two things that broke the monotony of space were the central pillar, which took a fair amount of available space, and a small metal cube that grew in size as the spaceship approached it. Max landed the ship close to the cube and Michael realized it was the size of a small house, completely featureless with the walls of polished metal, in which he could see his reflection.

“Isn’t this a bit… too much?” He asked, looking at the visually sterile surroundings.

“I didn’t want to take any chances for something to go wrong if the mind housed inside that AI-core turned to be malicious. For that reason, I built this. A completely closed system with only one hard cable to enable me to monitor what is happening inside, and the cable itself is rigged so it can be severed within a millisecond.”

The wall in front of him had only a vague outline of the doors that opened as he approached the building.

He took a few steps inside, then stopped surprised by a strange sight in front of him. The first part of the enclosed space was empty, but the second, towards the back, was a jungle of complex machinery and cables. It reminded him of something a crazy scientist in a movie would do, not a product of a highly developed technological civilization.

“I like what you did with the place. Didn’t you hear about cable management?” Michael asked and heard the slight echo his words produced.

“Most of those things are part of the security system I installed after the fact. Everything needed for the AI operation is built within the wall and under the floor.” The AI replied.

Michael walked across the room until he came close to the machinery, and a familiar-looking pedestal standing in the middle. It was the spitting image to the one he saw in that chamber at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. On top of it was the AI-core cube with a yellow Post-it note that said “AI-core—place into the indentation.” Another yellow Post-it note was above the indentation in the middle of the pedestal. It had an arrow pointing down, and the words “AI-core goes here.”

“Funny,” Michael smirked.

“I thought so too, in case you got confused.”

He took the surprisingly heavy AI-core in his hands, and once again marveled that this object could store an entire human mind within itself. He carefully placed it at the indicated position and watched as the translucent cube slowly sunk inside the pedestal and disappeared from his view. A few moments later, countless little lights started flashing, all over the strange machines.

“It’s initializing… there is a viable AI inside,” Max informed him. “It should be fully functional in a minute.”

Not long after that, a holo-screen above the machine activated and an image of a middle-aged man appeared on it. He looked confused and disoriented, and then he started speaking in an unknown language.

“I was afraid of that, he needs some time to adjust, and to be taught how to communicate with us. It is going to take a while.”

“Well… that sucks,” Michael said while the holo-screen in front of him turned off.

“I’m talking about the compressed time; it will only be a few hours for you. To tell it in the way of a great philosopher, ‘here stand and finish for me you wait, or to the residential level go and new things you see. Choose wisely, my young padawan, hmm,’” Max intoned imitating a voice of the familiar little green alien.

Michael shook his head and exited the building. He used the elevator in the central pillar and pressed the holographic button that indicated the residential level. The view that opened up in front of him, when the lift’s door opened again, was far more beautiful than the last time he was on this level.

All through the health crisis on Earth, the work on the station never stopped, and it was progressing at an amazing pace. The brown earth that used to cover the entire floor was now green with the layer of fresh grass, making it the biggest lawn he has ever seen. Hundreds of trees were already transplanted from Earth, the beginning of the forest envisioned in the designs.

In the distance, he could see dozens of people working to transform this space into a living world. Specially designed transporters were bringing tall trees, while the crews on the ground were positioning them into their prepared places.

He took one of the communal golf carts, which were conveniently parked close to the central pillar, and drove himself to the lake, a few miles away. People were waving at him as he passed, and he acknowledged them by raising his hand. He was not even completely sure if they recognized him, but everyone here was part of the growing community. He parked close to the water line and sat on the shore, watching the small fish swim in the clear lake.

“Michael, there is a slight change of plans,” Max said through his implant.

“What happened? Did you manage to communicate with him?” Michael asked.

“Oh yes, that wasn’t hard at all. The original ship’s language I translated was the one he used, but there is a lot more going on than we ever suspected. All the precautions I took for his activation were unnecessary. I don’t want to give you any spoilers—it’s not my story to tell. I already sent the Excalibur to the Ascension so it could pick up Elizabeth and the others. They all need to be here and learn what really happened, all those centuries ago. I’ll tell you when they are near.”

Michael nodded and continued to sit by the water lulled by the tranquility of this place. It was so relaxing that he lay prone on the soft grass, watching as the lazy clouds floated unhurriedly above him.

He was so relaxed that he fell asleep.

***

The S.U. Space Station

Residential Level

“So, this is where you were hiding.” Elizabeth’s voice brought him to his senses.

He opened his eyes only to see her standing above him. “Hi, how did you manage to get here so fast?” Michael asked with a lazy smile.

“It wasn’t that fast; Max told me you have been sleeping here for a couple of hours. Everybody is already on the small level with that shiny overgrown cube. Come on, they are waiting for us,” she said and gave him a hand to get up.

They went back, using the same elevator, and in a few minutes joined Tyron, Pete, Al, and the others, who were standing close to that strange machinery, like a bunch of fans, waiting for their favorite show to begin.

“OK folks, gather around, we are ready to start,” Max said as Michael and Elizabeth approached the group.

They all congregated in the center of the room, in front of the big holo-screen. Michael noticed that the big memory cube, which was not here before, was now placed in the room, connected to the machine that housed the AI-core.

Max’s image appeared on the holo-screen and he nodded at them. “There will be some disturbing things you will learn today, and I need you to keep it together. It is going to be an unsettling story, and as I said earlier to Michael, it is not mine to tell. May I present Ision, the AI we rescued from the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”

The holo-screen split in two and the same middle-aged man he briefly saw before, appeared in the other half.

The man bowed to the entire group, and then faced Michael. “Leader Freeman, I am honored to meet you and your friends. As Max said, my name is Ision,” he stated in perfect English.

“Ah… pleased to meet you too, I am glad Max was able to… wake you up?” Michael answered, nodding his head.

The man in the holo-screen smiled. “I understand your confusion; all this is quite new to me too. When I woke up, as you say, I was quite disorientated and did not yet realize that I was an AI, or that so much time has passed since the procedure. For me, it felt as if it was only a moment,” he said sadly.

“Ision and I spent a month of compressed time, getting to know each other. I needed to get him up to speed, so to speak, as his AI-core was never activated before. You can imagine how overwhelming the experience was.” Max explained.

“Yes, without Max to guide me, I would still be wondering what was going on. One second, I am lying in the AutoDoc on the spaceship you named the Excalibur, getting the gestalt of my mind recorded, and in the next, I am in completely unfamiliar surroundings. I owe a great debt to Max for being there for me,” Ision replied.

“Can you tell us what happened? Who built the ship, and why were you and the Excalibur hidden in such a way, and for so long?” Michael asked.

“I can and will, but I must warn you, it is a long story and not a happy one. Some things in it will be quite familiar to you; the history of my people became part of your myths and beliefs. I am sorry in advance if it offends and challenges some of your religious dogmas; but what you know about us has been so distorted and twisted over time, it bears almost no resemblance to the actual events. It is understandable really; these legends have been for thousands of years passed down by word of mouth. Parent to a child, one generation after the other, every speaker changing one bit of it. Until the history of my people was unrecognizable from what actually happened. All I can promise you is that everything I am about to tell you is the truth.”

A holographic representation of Earth appeared in front of them, filling up space between where they were standing and the AI-core pedestal.

“Max has helped me to create a presentation of sorts, so you can see for yourself certain events. Some images are from my memory, and some are from the digital records we retrieved from the Knowledge-Vault, which is the name of the large memory cube you recovered from the Mariana Trench installation. Just one more thing before I begin, certain names and places that you are used to, sound quite different in my language, so for the sake of convenience I will use their modern equivalents.”

Everybody was focused on his words, like children awaiting a new exciting story.

“Max has updated me on recent human history, so I know that my origin will come as a surprise to you. You see, I am the last of my people; most of the others had been murdered or hunted to extinction. Yet, the memory of us remains, but only in legends that most of humanity does not even believe are real. You have most likely heard of my civilization and the name of my people, we were—the Atlanteans.”

Michael’s eyes opened wide on account of this revelation, and he could hear a few indrawn breaths from the others in the room.

“I know this is a bit of a shock to you since in recent centuries the interest in our legend fired up the imagination of humanity. Even the Greek philosopher Plato used our name in his works. Although, his writings were so removed in time from the events that ended our civilization, little of our story survived. Atlantis was never an island, and it was not located where most people theorized… it was, in fact—an oasis.”

He waved his hand and the holographic representation of the world before them slowly rotated, until it stopped with the image of the South Pole facing them.

“My home was on the continent you named Antarctica,” Ision declared in a silent room.

“But that is impossible!” Emma shouted. “Antarctica has been a frozen desert for millions of years.”

Ision nodded. “You’re quite correct Dr. Williams, it was frozen in my time too, except for one small part of it.” He pointed his finger at the hologram.

The image of the South Pole zoomed in on the Antarctica continent, getting closer and closer to the surface until one green speck could be seen in the middle of the endless expanse of ice and snow. The zooming stopped when the entire screen was filled with green, and only the edges were still painted white.

The green part of the map was mesmerizing and just about impossible. A fertile land filled with lakes and forests; the last thing one would expect to see on a frozen continent. Around the entire place, a mist arose, surrounding it.

“This was Atlantis,” Ision continued. “A geological miracle that enabled life to flourish in one of the most inhospitable and desolate places on the planet. Abundant geothermal lakes and hot springs melted the ice over time and created a constant microclimate that developed its unique flora and fauna. Who knows, maybe it would still be there if my ancestors never stumbled upon it,” he said with barely concealed pain.

“Our oldest legends say that our people moved from another land, crossing the endless ice. I now assume that it had to be a temporary ice bridge between South America and Antarctica; some of the oldest pieces of the primitive art that survived to my time showed that they rode giant animals with long tusks. There were probably domesticated woolly mammoths; few of your own archaeological finds and recreated skeletal remains I have seen, confirms that theory. The real reason for the voyage, or why they even chose such a dangerous direction, was lost in time. The stories we learned from our elders told us that it was a dangerous journey and that the majority of our people did not make it. Nevertheless, those that did found a magical land to call their home.”

Ision paused there and seemed as mesmerized as the rest of them, looking at the images of the hidden oasis.

“Atlantis was not very large, a little less than a thousand square miles, and was surrounded on all sides by great walls of ice. Watching the sunrise from beneath those ice blue mountains was one of my earliest memories; no picture could ever describe such beauty.”

Michael could see that even talking about it was hard on the man; being turned into an AI didn’t suppress his emotional responses. Ision’s eyes glistened as he was watching those images.

“I’m not sure how long my people inhabited our oasis before I was born, we were never very keen on measuring time, but I suspect it had to be at least a thousand years. We never left Atlantis, we were born, lived, and died there. Completely cut off from the rest of the world, with a strong conviction that the gods were kind to us; after all, they provided us with a perfect home. I was born there, close to thirteen thousand years ago.”

While Ision was talking, the holograms of Atlantis followed his narration. Images that no one has seen from the time untold, followed one after another. Michael and the others were awe-struck by beautiful places. Pictures of green forests and thermal lakes, animals, people, and the houses that looked like big A-frames, made of sturdy logs. There were paths through the entire settlement, paved with great slabs of stone. Around this small, enclosed oasis, ice cliffs that must have been miles high, stood in their blue splendor. It was a world out of magical tales.

“Our population was never great, and at the height of our recorded history there were barely ten thousand of us; over time, that number grew much smaller. The greatest tragedy we faced was that our children were often born with deformities, and died young. Now I know what terms like genetic diversity and mutational meltdown mean, but then it was the will of our deities. Even so, we cared for those that were unfortunate to be born with defects, and we loved them. Still, we were headed to genetic extinction, without even being aware of it.”

The images of afflicted people were shown on the holo-screen, and more than a few people in his avid audience flinched.

“Isolated as we were, war was an unknown concept to us. Somehow, all those aggressive impulses that afflicted humanity through the entire history were not in our nature, maybe because our children suffered so much. In this day and age, you would have called us pacifists; peaceful people who simply wanted to live their lives, not bothering anyone. And we would have carried in such a way until the last of us died… but such was not our fate.”

Ision paused in his story, taking a deep breath.

“Our numbers were less than one thousand when they came; our saviors and, in a way, our destroyers. We thought they were gods. This is how I saw them, with my own eyes, for the first time.”

A still image of a close community turned into a video taken from Ision’s perspective. These were his actual memories, carried to a digital form when his mind was uploaded to the AI-core. He was looking at the sky and a speck of color that was growing larger by the minute. It soon became apparent to Michael and the others that it was some kind of a spacecraft, descending from orbit.

In a few minutes, it was low enough that they could discern more details. The design lines were a little strange, but there was a striking resemblance to the style Excalibur was built on. Except, this spacecraft was a few times larger than Michael’s ship, yet with the same kind of writings on its hull Michael had previously seen when he entered the Excalibur’s bridge for the first time.

The spaceship landed close to the settlement, and many people came to stand close to it. There was no fear or panic in them, only curiosity. Even the children were present to see the new and strange thing that came into their world.

With a slight hiss, an opening appeared on the side of the ship and the metal ramp descended to the ground. A silhouette could be seen coming close to the exit, bipedal and looking quite human. Yet, when the creature finally exited the ship, not one person in the room could believe what they were seeing. There, standing before the silent Atlanteans was an image they were very familiar with, one Michael and the others had seen countless times since their childhood.

Standing there was… an angel.

Book 3 - Chapter 12

The S.U. Space Station

“You gotta be freaking kidding me!”

The first one to react was Al; the others gawked at the image with looks of dumbfounded amazement and shock. In their defense, it was a completely improbable sight. A tall man was standing in front of that ship, and he had two big white wings on his back.

His features were a little strange; there were all the things anyone looking at the mirror would recognize, two eyes, one mouth, the nose, and a full head of long hair. To Michael, the strange being looked like a modern depiction of an elf. Very tall and skinny, with characteristically pointed ears; but those wings negated his elfin image. His skin color was another strange thing; it was the color of old gold. He was dressed in white clothes resembling a robe, similar to the one a priest would wear, which reflected light as very expensive silk does.

“How… how is this possible?” Emma asked. Expressing the same thought everyone had.

“Have patience, Dr. Williams, everything will be explained, this story is far from over,” Ision replied.

On the hologram projection before them, Atlanteans started to kneel before him, thinking he was a deity from the heavens. The angel slowly walked down the platform to the one closest to the ship. It was Ision, and through his eyes, they saw what the being did next. Barely touching him, he indicated that he should rise and not kneel. He lifted his five-fingered hand and held his palm toward the confused man, waiting for a response. The confusion soon ended and Ision too raised his hand and touched the angel’s palm.

“They could have portrayed themselves as gods, and we would have worshiped them, but that was not their way. At that time, we followed a variety of gods, those of fire, air, ice, and the sun; we would have accepted them as such, yet they told us from the beginning that they were just people, like us. Born in a different place, but no better, and certainly not divine.” Ision spoke in a silent room.

“I know you have seen their artistic representations, and their image has become an integral part of several Earth’s religions, but to us, they were our friends, our teachers, and our saviors.”

The hologram before them showed other angels coming out of the ship, male and female.

“There were seven of them, and that first one who came from the ship and greeted me was their captain. Coincidentally enough, Leader Freeman, you were named after him. The actual pronunciation of his name sounds a little different, something close to Mikell, but in your culture, he is known as Michael the Archangel.”

This was a piece of information Michael did not know how to process. He knew the origin of his name was biblical, but it would seem that it was actually… extraterrestrial. That would have been a great surprise to his late grandmother as she was the one that named him.

“In the following months, angels were frequent visitors to our home. They would spend the days with us, and by night, they would go back to their ship. We were astounded by how quickly they learned our language, and during that time, they did something that almost had us worship them like true gods, despite what they said. You see… they cured us.

“They healed those that had deformities, and all the children that were born after they arrived—were perfect. DNA manipulation, words I would not have understood then, but they changed our world. They even improved our genes to give us longer lives, immunity from diseases, increased intelligence, and senses that were more acute.”

The man paused again, lost in his memories. His face showed a smile full of sadness, remembering a happy time. He took a deep breath and then with a resolute nod of determination, he continued.

“Of course, they were testing us all; trying to learn if they could trust us. After six months have passed, Mikell came to me one day and told me their story.

“They were refugees, running away from a great calamity that has befallen them, and wanted to make part of our oasis into their temporary home. They wanted our permission to live with us because they had a colony ship in orbit and there were many more angels on it… sleeping in stasis. Yet, Mikell did not want us to make such a decision without telling the story of what they were running from.”

The holograph in front of them changed into an image of a planet, it looked similar to Earth, but the continents and the percentage of land and water were all wrong.

“Their home was in a star system they called Hemina, and the planet on which the angels evolved was Gaina. Though Mikell and the others did not live on that planet, they all came from a small colony on the edges of their solar system. It was more of a penal colony, a place where those who rebelled against their world’s strict rules were sent into an exile.

“While the entire angel’s species was a peaceful one, it was not always so. In a distant past, they were a highly technological society, achieving such heights that to people of modern Earth, it would be seen as magic. Yet, as Icarus of your myths, they reached too high and paid the price for it.”

On the surface of a beautiful rotating planet, bright flashes started to appear. Multitudes of small mushroom clouds were all too easy to identify.

“There was a war that almost made them extinct and it was fought with high technology, involving artificial intelligences and nuclear weapons. Thus, after it ended, the survivors decided to change their entire society, trying to prevent such things from ever happening again. Their solution was draconian and in retrospect… unwise. They destroyed most of the technological remains of that previous civilization, artificially keeping their technology at a far lower level by forbidding certain fields of research. Religion, which was once almost abandoned, once again took precedence in the lives of people, and the priests became those who controlled and regulated allowed technologies. Their species was now ruled by the council of priests that called themselves The Elders. From the freedom of thought they once enjoyed, the entire planet became a theocracy with very strict rules.

“Naturally, in any society, there are always those who disagree with the established order and want more out of their existence. The dreamers, geniuses, and those who yearned to reach the stars that were once within their species' grasp.

“The Elders were faced with a very difficult decision. On one hand, they needed to maintain the stability of their new society that those people threatened, and on the other, they could not kill those malcontents since that went against everything they believed in. Their solution was to exile them to an old research station that was built while they still dreamed about colonies in space. One spaceship from the previous age still remained, and it was used to transfer the nonconformists from their perfect society. The new outcast colony was so far away, that the light of their star barely reached it, yet, despite the passage of the years, the autonomous maintenance systems kept it in working order. That exile would, in the end, turn out to be a blessing.”

The holographic representation of Gaina showed them a speeded-up image of the planet and centuries of climate change; from the all-encompassing nuclear winter to stabilization of the environment, in a few minutes. Then the focus shifted away from the planet, and for a moment, they all felt like the camera was traveling a great distance until it settled on a small planetoid. Its image was similar to Earth’s moon; gray in color with thousands of craters on the surface. That image zoomed even more until they were looking at the settlement under a geodesic dome. Through that transparent dome, they saw houses, trees, and parks; vaguely resembling the Ascension’s own residential level.

“Life was hard there and riddled with uncountable challenges. Very soon, the colony was inadequate to house them all; those on Gaina kept sending more people every year, not caring if they would survive. Even so, despite all the harshness of their daily lives—the colony thrived. During the ensuing decades, the exiles dug underground to create new livable space, and even managed to reclaim parts of their technological heritage, turning that desolate world into an underground heaven.”

The view of the hologram went through the entire colony, showing them the environment the exiled angels made for themselves. It was beautiful, akin to something that Michael envisioned himself; what he wanted the new station to become. It was an artificial world, but the one where people could live their lives and choose their own destiny. Level by level, they went deeper underground, seeing a series of enormous caves that were ecosystems in themselves. Of course, the color of the plants was wrong, and animals were very different from anything on Earth. Through all the images, there were flying angels, with smiles on their faces and joy in their movements.

“Technology to reach other stars was rediscovered from the ancient data they brought with them. A few unmanned probes were sent to the distant stars, looking for those promising new worlds where they could live under the sun. With the growing population of their own, the need for them to have more space was essential. That is why they started the project to build a colony ship, using old designs. The spirit of their forefathers was still alive in them, yet there was no strife and disagreement in their actions, they were all united. That colony ship was supposed to be the first of many… it ended being the only one.”

The ancient AI gave them a piercing look. “The next event will change everything, and will directly lead to the destruction of Atlantis. Hemina solar system was visited by a new alien race, one whose image you will also recognize.”

“Holy mother of God!” Al yelled after the holographic three-dimensional image of the new race appeared in front of them. The reaction of others was less vocal but as distressed as his. Jack, Ben, and Tyron chose far more colorful profanities to describe how they felt. Elizabeth was silent, however, she grabbed Michael’s arm and held onto it tight.

This was an image from the darkest nightmares of the human race, one as familiar as that of an angel. Dark red lizard skin, monstrous face with a mouth full of sharp teeth, and two wicked horns rising from the forehead; the creature even had a pair of lathery-clawed wings growing from its back.

“Oh hell, this can’t be real…” Pete whispered while holding a small gold cross that was hanging on a chain around his neck.

“I’m afraid it is,” Ision said. “This is a true photo image of their kind, not a graphical representation, and is in fact downloaded directly from the Knowledge-Vault.”

Michael felt as if every muscle in his body had become taut, and something deep and primal within him… felt shaken. Yet, he couldn’t allow himself to show that; Elizabeth and the others were counting on him to lead them.

Ision continued his story.

“Your name for them is demons, and I shall address them as such since their name for themselves is unpronounceable to us. They speak in a harsh and guttural language, that human vocal cords could never imitate. Demons arrived in the Hemina system using the same way of crossing the space between the stars, as angels from the colony rediscovered. A way to bridge the space in a relatively short time, compared to how long a trip would take if using even a theoretical drive that could travel at the speed of light.

“Every star has its own unique frequency, and if you know it, this technology enables you to build a link between them. They called it a bridge drive, even if it is not a bridge but rather a method of translating from one place to the other using a higher dimension. Yet, the translation cannot take place too close to the star; the gravitational forces of the Sun and its planets would have destroyed the ship upon arrival. Therefore, the exit point for the translation is always outside the targeted system. What’s more, the ship needs to travel in the exact direction of the desired destination, or else it will miss. Imagine how many stars you can see at night, which is the number of systems that can be reached from Earth, but only if their exact frequency is known.

“It was sheer luck that the demons came from the opposite direction from the exiles colony, so they were not detected. Five enormous ships were in their fleet, each a two-mile-long behemoth. It took weeks for them to arrive at the orbit above Gaina, and they immediately contacted the angels on the planet.”

The images of the demon ships stood above the beautiful planet, like menacing predator birds looming above their prey. Even if he did not know who was controlling those ships, Michael would still feel something menacing about them. There was no doubt in his mind that those were warships, built exclusively to bring destruction upon their enemies.

“Ariel, Mikell’s father, was the leader of the colony, and as soon as the demon ships were detected, he ordered that all transmissions from the colony should stop. He was a very suspicious individual and those translations into the Hemina system displayed the same energy signatures as their own did, which troubled him greatly; as did the fact that those demons knew the angel’s language. The colony ship was very close to completion so he decided that all efforts would be used to finish it as soon as possible. Everyone helped and they shaved months of work, somehow managing to complete the ship in time. I wonder if he had some sort of premonition, or if it was instinct.

“A few of malcontents remained on Gaina undiscovered, and they kept sending regular reports to Ariel using a refurbished and highly illegal transmitter. I guess there were spies of sorts; their presence on the planet enabled the exiles to understand what was happening. The demons expressed offers of peace, saying they were travelers on a scientific mission of exploration. For the first month, the beginnings of diplomatic relations between demons and angels were established. It seemed as if Ariel’s fears were ungrounded, and even to him, it looked like he was jumping to conclusions by listening to the voice of fear within him.

"However, as time progressed, the demons started demanding more information about angels’ past, as if they were searching for something. For all the time they were above the planet, their ships were scanning the surface with ground-penetrating scanners. Justifying it as one of the objectives of their mission, to map all planets in any new system they discover.

“One day, without any warning whatsoever… the attack began. The demons apparently demanded something from Gaina’s elders and were refused, but that information is only word of mouth, which Ariel’s agents managed to transmit in the final hours. No matter why, the consequences of the elders’ decision were devastating.”

Holographic presentation kept pace with his story and Michael could see the beautiful planet once again marred with sudden points of destruction on its surface. It was not nuclear weapons this time that fell on the fragile ecosystem, it was a kinetic orbital bombardment, equivalent to the one Michael used on the members of Boko Haram. The demons must have used far larger projectiles because the explosions were a thousand times stronger.

“They showed no mercy, targeting the biggest cities, not answering to angels’ pleas for them to stop. Ariel knew that the same fate would befall their colony too, when they were inevitably discovered. He ordered an immediate evacuation. Unfortunately, the colony ship was not big enough to take everyone… or even the most.

“Mikell and six others were trained as the ship’s crew and they were essential for flying it, but those that were previously chosen as colonists never got on board. They all relinquished their places so the youngest members of the colony could be saved. Twenty-five additional adults accompanied them to take care of the children when they woke up. Parents hugged their children, said their goodbyes, and laid them to sleep in the stasis chamber. Mikell embraced his father for the last time and entered the ship that was the only hope of their species survival.

“The colony ship launched as soon as it could, carrying within every single child of the colony.

“Unfortunately, as soon as its Gravity-drive engaged, there was an immediate response from the demons. One of the behemoth ships was detached from the demon fleet and speeded up on a trajectory to intercept the escaping colony ship. Somehow, they were able to detect energy fluctuations of the Gravity-drive, faster than the speed of light. Mikell chose the closest route for the translation, and for a while, it looked like they would have enough time to escape.

“Meanwhile, the automated video transmissions that Ariel's agents set up on Gaina, never stopped, and they showed images of devastation. Many demon troops were on the planet now, killing survivors or gathering them in large groups for some unknown purpose. One image emotionally scarred every angel that saw it, it was the last recording sent from the planet,” Ision said and pointed at the hologram.

The video was of poor quality, there was dirt and dust on the lens from the bombardment, which obscured part of the view. Even so, what could be seen was horrifying enough. A very large demon, dressed in some sort of battle harness, was sitting on the rubble from a fallen building. In one hand, he held the menacing-looking rifle, but the other hand held something else. It took a few moments for Michael and the others to realize what it was; the sight was too disturbing for them to acknowledge the reality of it.

He was holding a severed arm, and by the size of the limb, it had belonged to a small angel child. On the wrist was a pink colored wristband, now partially soaked in blood. That was a gruesome image in itself, but the fact that he was gnawing on it with his sharp teeth—was nauseating.

Elizabeth covered her mouth and leaned her head on Michael’s chest; the others also had a strong reaction to seeing that scene. It was one thing to see gore in the movies, but quite another when you knew what was recorded was the real thing, even if it happened thousands of years ago.

“Yes, they were carnivores, and didn’t care if the meat came from sapient beings; I can only imagine the ultimate fate of angels on Gaina,” Ision said quietly.

“Mikell made the colony ship fly as fast as it could, but the demon ship had more powerful engines and started gaining on them. For the next week, he watched as the distance between them grew shorter. The telescopic cameras captured a swarm of missiles descending on the colony, launched from the ship that was chasing them. He witnessed as the huge explosions destroyed the geodesic dome on the small planetoid, obliterating the only home he had ever known.”

Michael had a hard time holding his rage inside, even if he knew that there was nothing he could do to change what has already happened. He remembered the images of the benign angels, and those missiles have killed every single one of them. His fist, that was not holding Elizabeth, was squeezing so tight it was testing the limitations of his upgraded bones. He wished to be in the presence of the demon that was in charge of that ship, so he could choke the life out of him.

“In the end, Mikell was left with no choice; as soon as the ship reached the gravitational limit, he engaged the bridge drive and made the translation. It was a good decision, a few minutes later the missiles that the demon ship had launched would have caught them, and destroyed the ship. Even so, it was not the way translations should be done, and there were consequences for that decision.

“You see, the computers did not have enough time to do full calculations of their destination. He had executed a blind translation, an insanely dangerous maneuver, and by the data the ancient probes provided, fatal in most cases. Luck was with them that day, and the colony ship exited the translation jump around the new star system, one that could sustain life. They came here.”

The hologram showed them quite a familiar image of the Solar System and the blue jewel of the third planet from the Sun.

“That is how they came here, the random chance of a blind translation which caused the destruction of the ship’s bridge engine. Those aboard the colony ship had no engineering knowledge to rebuild one. For better or for worse, the angels were left with no choice than to make Earth their home.”

The hologram image again showed Atlantis and the group of angels sitting on one side of the table, across Ision and some of his people.

“This is the story that Mikell told me when he asked us to decide if they could live with us. There was not really much to consider, our debt to them was already more than we could ever repay, so we said yes.

And that is how the golden age of Atlantean civilization began.”

Book 3 - Chapter 13

The S.U. Space Station

Michael and the others stood in that room for a long time, yet not one of them would have left it for anything in the world.

This was a momentous and earthshaking revelation, and echoes of it were the reason why they were in space right now. If Michael had never stumbled on the Excalibur, they would be still on Earth, and the Solarian Union would not exist.

He patiently waited to hear the end of the story, but as Ision said at the beginning, there would be no happy endings to it; he already had a good suspicion of what disaster would again fall on both of these peaceful people.

Ision showed them the landing of the big colony ship after the agreement between angels and Atlanteans was made. The ship itself wasn’t as big as he thought it would be, its lines reminded Michael of the giant Sikorsky SkyCrane helicopter, without the propellers, though. However, the highly reflective cargo section supported under the ship was substantial. It was the stasis chamber in which all the surviving children were sleeping. They were another reason why Mikell and the ship’s crew needed Atlanteans’ help, since there were more than two thousand children on it. Twenty-five adult angels that were asleep with them were far too few to take care of them all.

Before they made contact with Atlantis, detailed surveys of the entire Earth were made. Mikell told Ision how all they witnessed was war and conflict, primitive tribes fighting for supremacy, or resources. Only the Atlanteans upheld values that were similar to the angels’ culture.

Gaina had a weaker gravity than Earth, as a result, angels could not fly here; at best, they could glide for short distances. One thing they had going for them was that biological sciences were never fully repressed, so using DNA manipulation every angel on Earth received a significant strength boost, making the full 1G gravity easier to bear.

A few months after the colony ship landed, they started waking up the children and caretakers from the stasis and integrating them into this new joint community. The images of small angel children crying for their dead parents were painful to watch. They had been ripped from their homes and now were awoken in a strange new world, so different from anything they knew before. The Atlanteans made every effort to make them feel at home, and the families that were consequently created, were some of the most out of the ordinary the world has ever seen. The hologram showed them dozens of images of human parents with a mixed group of human and adopted angel children.

One of the greatest gifts Atlanteans received was the CEI implants, that allowed them to make an immense technological jump in a very short time. In the next few decades, Atlantis prospered beyond anyone’s imagination.

A great city was built, with tall buildings that reached the top of surrounding glacial walls. The new technology was pursued with an abundant vigor; made possible by many minds that look differently at things, working together in solving a singular problem. Nanotechnology was fully resurrected from the ancient data, and medical nanites became a faster way of treating injuries. Soon, simple construction nanites followed, which accelerated their progress even more. The camouflage technology was discovered, and together, the two races even started building a prototype spaceship; the same ship that would one day carry the name Excalibur.

The angels were still planning to leave Earth one day, and to find a suitable world of their own, with somewhat lower gravity. To do that, those children needed decades of learning, so they could become engineers and builders to finish the mission.

“For both of us, it was an age of discovery and progress, our children grew up knowing new technologies and improving some of them even further than the angels did. All that was possible because of the cube which is standing before you.” Ision pointed at the memory cube that they brought from the ocean’s depths.

“Mikell called it the Knowledge Vault, and it was one of their most prized possessions. His family safeguarded it for a thousand years, never revealing its secrets. It was one of the few things Ariel, Mikell’s father, managed to bring from Gaina when he was exiled. You see, it is a repository of all ancient angels’ knowledge before they turned against technology. If The Elders knew what it was, it would have surely been destroyed. It has a massive storage space, and the images of Gaina you saw were stored in it. However, it was not easy to retrieve information out of it; imagine a library as big as a city and you need to find one specific book in it, a daunting endeavor.”

“But wouldn’t an AI expedite that process to be much faster?” Michael asked.

“Leader Freeman, there were no AIs in Atlantis, or even on Gaina anymore, for that matter. I was the first and the only one created in Atlantis. The Great War fought in their past, which almost eradicated their species, was started by an AI, so there was a strong cultural imperative that they would never create another. No angel would ever agree to be turned into one. AI’s and nanites were forbidden technologies on Gaina, and we resurrected them only in consideration of a great need to speed up our progress.”

“But they copied you into the AI-core, so technology was there,” Michael replied, confused.

Ision sadly shook his head. “There wasn’t a 100% chance that the procedure would even work, it was highly experimental and only re-created as the human part of our community thought that an AI could expedite the rebuilding of the colony ship’s bridge drive. We did not even know how to make the AI-cores. As a matter of fact, together with the Knowledge Vault, there were only two blank cores that were left from Gaina’s ancient times. One is now used by me and the other is Max’s… that one was intended for my brother who was its test pilot, and it was a fall back option for reaching the children, in case something happened to him during the flight. Unfortunately, my brother was murdered before we could reach the ship. He sacrificed his life in vain, just to give me a chance.” Ision closed his eyes and took a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“Where was I? Oh, yes…Working together, our two races recreated the machine intelligence which helped us automate plenty of things, yet they were far from being sapient; they were nothing but highly smart computers, something your civilization is on the cusp of making.

“For the next two decades, we flourished, but still isolated and cut off from the outside world. The consensus among us was that the rest of the human race should be left to pursue their own path to progress. We had big plans for our future, mostly involving the same things exiles of Gaina wanted; finding new life-bearing worlds, and creating colonies of our own. That was not meant to be…”

A digital tear slid down ancient AI’s face. “Maybe if we have done something differently, or if the AI-core was used sooner… maybe things would have not ended the way they did. You see, we felt safe in our little world, so sure that nothing bad could happen to us. Mikell and the angels had escaped the Hemina star system using blind translation, and as far as they knew, those were impossible to follow… they were wrong.

“One of the few satellites we put into orbit detected a translation event on the edges of the Solar System. Immediately, all our telescopes were turned in that direction, and it was not before long they captured the first images of what caused it. Mikell recognized it instantly, the harsh lines of that distinct design were unmistakable… it was a demon ship.”

Ision closed his eyes with painful remembrance, determined to tell the story even when it was opening barely healed wounds.

“We panicked, knowing what the demons did on Gaina. The only way to find out where the colony ship went, was by checking every single star system on the original trajectory, and that was most likely the reason why it took them so long. Who would have thought that the demons would pursue those few souls that escaped so relentlessly?

“We made plans out of desperation, anything we could think of to survive the coming confrontation. Escaping the system was not an option this time, the colony ship’s bridge engines were still not something we could repair, and we had no weapons as we never needed any.”

The hologram in front of them showed a grainy image of the demon ship, taken by a telescope. Red in color, as was the demon's skin, its menacing presence dominated the pitch-black void it was traveling through.

“There was a two-week window before the ship would arrive to Earth from its translation point, and we used every second of that time to prepare. So many plans… and most of them failed. I being turned into an AI was somewhat of a gamble, in case we somehow prevailed and had a chance to rebuild, I was meant to be an adviser and guardian of the knowledge. Mikell would have been a far better choice, but even under these circumstances, he could not force himself to overcome his species aversion to such a procedure. The traumatizing racial memory of dark times in their planet's history was hard to overcome; I volunteered.

“Most of the Atlanteans and all the adult angels were evacuated to various places on the planet. Thinking at the time was that if we dispersed, they would not be able to find us so easily. At the same time, we could not risk our children in such an endeavor; the world outside our paradise was still brutal and unforgiving, and our children were the product of technological civilization, not prepared for that harsh and untamed environment.

“The angel children barely grew in those twenty years, their species needed much longer time until they reached maturity than us. Therefore, all of them and the human children of Atlantis were placed into a stasis chamber; they were the ones we needed to protect the most.”

Ision paused again, remembering the painful moment of his life.

“Our experimental ship was hidden far away from Atlantis and buried underneath the ground. The MI that was left as a custodian, was ordered to create a crystal matrix cocoon around it, so it would be very difficult to detect by the demons’ ship scanners. Its Gravity-drive was of the same design as that on the colony ship, and we knew the demons could notice those emissions. The ship had a major role to play in our plan for the children, and the second AI-core was put there for my brother, together with a modified AutoDoc that would record the gestalt of his mind. On a slight chance that it could be found by demons, we scrubbed most of the ship’s memory, so it would not give our secrets away.”

Ision looked at Michael. “That is why Max was created, a case of mistaken identity. When you fell down the ship’s entrance shaft, the MI assumed you were my brother, and since you were close to dying, it copied your mind in case you did not make it, so the mission could continue.”

Michael’s eyes were wide open, “but how could the machine intelligence confuse me with your brother? And what mission?”

“I will get to that, and remember, MIs are nothing but smart computers, very good for simple tasks—not so dependable for complex ones.”

The AI’s eyes returned to the hologram of the demon’s ship approaching the Earth.

“Mikell trusted me so much, but in the end, I failed in my mission. As soon as that ship reached Earth’s orbit, all our plans were put in motion. Mikell and his crew launched the colony ship when the demon ship’s orbit placed them on the other side of the world. As they reached Earth’s escape velocity, the stasis chamber that held all our children was detached, and sent on a ballistic course toward the fourth planet from the Sun, or the red planet Mars, as you know it. The camouflage system, hastily installed in the previous weeks, together with primitive propulsion systems, ensured that it would not be detected. The MI guiding it had orders to hide it on the red planet until we came to collect it.”

They all watched the recording of the colony ship’s liftoff from the Atlantis, its engines steadily rising it above ground, until it broke through the cloud cover and reached space. The stasis chamber went on its way with a trail of exhaust gases from the propulsion rockets attached to it. The camouflage systems were activated, and it completely disappeared from the view. The ruse worked, the aggressors were entirely oblivious to such a soft target.

“The demon ship started the kinetic bombardment of Atlantis, as soon as its orbit brought it above it. That bombardment destroyed the fragile balance of the thermal Atlantean environment, waking up a sleeping giant whose quiet slumber was responsible for the very creation of that oasis. Lava gushed from the thermal vents, and our lakes started to boil; whatever of our infrastructure was left from the kinetic weapons, ended up covered under the liquid rock and ice that melted and froze over after a while. It is as if my home never existed at all. The only consolation I had at the time was that there were not many people left in Atlantis, just a few who refused to be relocated all over the planet… at least it was a quick end for them.” Once again, the ancient AI had to stop the story, the words were too painful to express his feelings for the obliteration of his home.

For the second time, Michael had to witness the wanton destruction of an entire civilization. Elizabeth could hear the cracking of his teeth enamel, caused by a hard tightening of his jaw. Dozens of fairy meteorites fell on the green oasis, each one producing a familiar mushroom cloud of devastation. Fire, steam, and earth mixed in an infernal amalgamation, obscuring the view of the once verdant ecosystem.

Ision waved at the hologram, as in anger, and the image again showed the angel's colony ship.

“Mikell did what he planned from the start, the only way he could ensure that the rest of us, and especially the children, had any chance of surviving. He used their colony ship as a weapon and rammed the demon ship head-on. I guess they never expected something like that; their point defense was seriously lacking.”

Everybody in that room felt a sense of elation as they watched the smaller ship, under its full power, went hunting for its larger prey. The demons’ response was immediate. Automated weapons fired thousands of projectiles at the smaller ship, ripping its front to shreds. Yet, in the medium of space, mass and velocity were true rulers, and Mikell had redlined his engines. His desperate gambit worked; his sacrifice was not in vain. Millions of super-fast debris hit the demon ship, followed by the hardened engine compartment that was still in one piece. The attacking behemoth soon started showing cracks on its hull; the fires within were expelled into space as the vessel started losing its atmospheric containment. It was too fast to see which ship’s power core exploded first and it did not matter—the results were the same—obliteration.

Ision watched the video, one of his hands lifted as if he was saying the final goodbye to his angel friend. “My part in the plan was to hide on this continent, and in case Mikell’s sacrifice was unsuccessful, to wait with my group, for a time when the demons left the Solar System. Then, using the Excalibur, to travel to Mars, and the children; finally, to restart both of our civilizations anew. The Knowledge Vault was too important to lose or to be allowed to fall into demons’ hands. It was hidden on the bottom of the Mariana Trench, together with an inactive copy of my AI-core.

“Unfortunately, several demon lifeboats managed to escape their ship’s destruction, and they landed on Earth. Then… the hunts began.

“Before the demons came, we made many solar-powered monitoring drones, used for the study of Earth’s emerging cultures. Now, they recorded what was happening in the aftermath of Atlantis destruction, and transmitted the data to the Knowledge Vault. That is how I know what happened after my gestalt was copied into the AI-core.

“A few dozen demons managed to survive, and they were somehow able to detect the CEI implants in us. They used their lifeboats as means of transportation and were systematically hunting every angel and Atlantean on the planet. Only those who were still too young to receive implants were somewhat safe. Those monsters did not lack for food, and many human tribes were hunted to extinction, like animals for their feasts. They were so devastating to our entire species that the memory of their image still endures to this day, seared into humanity’s very soul.

“I even have recordings of my own death; my brother and I were close to the Excalibur when they found us. As I said, the ship was originally meant to be the way to reach our children, but now we needed it to make a desperate attempt to get our hands on technology that would allow us to fight back. We even managed to kill the hunting party that was after us, but I was mortally wounded… I have failed to reach the ship.”

The aerial videos of demons’ savagery were disturbing on a completely new level. Michael could see whole communities killed and butchered, and fleeing Atlanteans and angels hunted for sport. These were the images that could rival the greatest atrocities of the Nazi death camps, a testament of loss and hopelessness.

Ision’s image stood there, on the holo-screen, with closed eyes and silent tears, while his body shook from the repressed screams he kept inside of himself. Nobody said a word, wanting to give him time to collect himself; on a hologram before them, the images of boundless savagery were still running.

Five minutes later, the ancient AI managed to restrain his grief, and the video of the past ended.

“Ision…” Emma said, raising her hand.

The old AI shook himself and looked toward her.

“Yes, Dr. Williams?”

“But… we never found any traces of those events… I mean… the ship's debris, satellites in orbit…”

“Dr. Williams, all these events happened almost thirteen thousand years ago; the satellites, and most of the debris from the ships’ collision, fell to Earth a long time ago. Some burned out from friction produced by entering the atmosphere, but some did not, and caused destructive events for thousands of the following years.

“The result of demons’ kinetic bombardment and those largest parts of debris triggered an abrupt climatic change, that your scientists call the Younger Dryas period. The amount of dust in the atmosphere triggered a sharp decline in temperature over most of the Northern Hemisphere, and any large mammalian species that existed at that time, became extinct. The environmental impact was devastating and a mini Ice Age swept the planet, consequently changing the face of the entire world. Your Bible refers to that time as the Flood. Some residual debris that were in odd orbits fell to Earth in recent times. I extrapolated, and Max concurred that the last fragment impacted in 1908; the explosion it made upon landing is referred to as the Tunguska event.”

The shocked silence that followed was interrupted by Ben.

“And the stories about angels and demons… how did they become part of our myths?” Ben asked.

“Some of my people and a few angels survived; then they told their story to their descendants and other people. As I said, throughout the millennia, the story was changed and embellished by countless retelling, until it held little truth of what actually happened. The demons, no matter how long-lived, died out over time too, and I am afraid the remaining angels shared their fate.”

Ision then looked piercingly at Michael.

“And now I come to the most important reason for telling you all this. Leader Freeman, the Excalibur would have never accepted you if it was not for your DNA scan. Your genes identified you as one of the Atlantean descendants; in a long line originating from those who managed to survive the demon hunts. And I want to make a deal with you.”

Michael looked at the AI with suspicion in his eyes. “I may not be a geneticist, but if Atlantean DNA is in my blood, wouldn’t that mean that it is in other people too?” he asked.

Ision smiled for the first time. “Yes, you’re correct. It is safe to say that a large percentage of humans alive today have some Atlantean DNA in them. Diluted over time by crossbreeding with ordinary humans, but the genetic markers are still there. Max even postulated during our talks, that because of Atlantean genetic influence, the entire human species advancement was unnaturally rapid. Most of humanity are our descendants, and that gives me a small feeling of contentment that some of our heritage still lives on within you.”

Michael regarded Ision’s image on the holo-screen and asked, “What sort of a deal?”

“The Knowledge Vault has technical information that would advance your new civilization in unimaginable ways. Even with the help of an AI, it would still take you hundreds of years to develop them yourself. I was placed as the custodian and protector of all that knowledge. If Max had tried to pry it out by force, it would have self-destructed. I am willing to give you full access to it, and in exchange, I need you to rescue all Atlanteans and angel children that are in the stasis chamber on Mars. And then to provide a home for them in the Solarian Union.”

He already knew what his answer would be, but he looked around himself and saw confirming nods from the rest of his people.

“That goes beyond saying, the information from the Knowledge Vault would be appreciated, but even without it, we will do everything we can to help them,” Michael answered, looking at the face of the relieved AI.

“Thank you, I will never be able to express the depths of my gratitude for their salvation.” Ision quietly replied.

A few moments later, his image disappeared from the holo-screen.

Book 3 - Chapter 14

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary orbit

It was quite a somber and quiet group that returned to the Ascension. Everyone was thinking about the incredible story they’ve heard; it explained so much and answered a few of the questions they have been asking for a long time. For all that—it created many more.

They all gathered in a conference room after Al and Pete made a slight detour to the food court and picked up a case of cold beer.

“One thing that still troubles me,” Michael said. “I understand that we are talking about an extremely long period of time since the demons’ attack and destruction of Atlantis, but we should still have found at least some evidence of these past events. The archeology is constantly unearthing evidence of Earth’s past, and we have fossils and data on cultures that go even beyond thirteen millennia, so why didn’t we ever find anything about such a momentous event?”

Max, whose hologram was sitting next to him, and was nursing a digital representation of a beer bottle himself, answered, “Maybe we did.”

“Then why did we never hear anything about it? It would have been too big of a discovery not to make the news,” Elizabeth asked.

Max smirked. “It has been a long-established practice within the archaeological circles to disregard any discoveries that go against the conventional facts. Those who try to change the accepted history by far-fetched theories, or even by their findings, are often discredited and ridiculed. Not to mention that there are plenty of people in the world who believe that Earth is less than 10,000 years old.”

Michael looked at the AI. “Max, search for any evidence on the net, and all databases you have access to, about things that could collaborate Ision’s story.”

“Don’t you believe what he told us?” Ben questioned.

“Oh, I believe. But I still want corroborating evidence; it’s that trust but verify mentality of mine,” Michael said. “Max, what is your take on Ision?”

“Everything he told us checks out, and his main driving force is a need to help Atlantean and angel children on Mars. Michael, one of those children is his own son, and it is the main reason he managed to keep himself together after learning that everything he once knew is gone.

“Additionally, he did give me the full access to the Knowledge Vault after you agreed to his terms. It is absolutely incredible, there is so much data inside that is going to take years to classify it all, even for an AI. There is no search engine, or logical file system; it is an ocean of information. Thousands of years of history, poetry, literature, and extensive scientific research that even exiled angels were not aware of.” Max replied.

“How the hell were they not aware of their own data?” Ben asked.

“It is simply too much information; an ordinary being could spend a lifetime cataloging it all, and not make a serious dent. My theory is that the entire Knowledge Vault was a rush job before their nuclear war started, a thousand years before Mikell’s ship came to our solar system. Someone knew what was coming and tried to save as much as they could in a very limited amount of time. I guess they succeeded, in a fashion. Imagine all human knowledge placed in one single folder, without any reference where what was located. That scenario would give you a general, if understated, grasp of the problem. On the plus side, it is a job made for an AI,”Max said with a smile and lifted his beer bottle in Ben’s direction.

“Were you able to get something useful out of it so far?” Michael asked.

“Oh, I got plenty of things that are going to be more than useful. Techniques to build some pretty exotic and advanced alloys that have even better properties than Resistanium. Technical concepts that we have not even imagined so far, and a ton of proven mathematical and scientific theories that will make some of Ben’s scientists think they died and entered Nirvana. The entire job of ferreting secrets out of the Knowledge Vault gives the occupation of data miner a whole new meaning.”

“If the Atlanteans and angels made an AI sooner, would’ve they had the means to defend themselves from the demons,” Michael softly asked.

Max was quiet for a few moments and then nodded, “Yes, but that would have clashed with the entire outlook they had on life. Remember, they were completely non-militant, and peaceful. Still, I can envision a scenario in which they used the knowledge from the vault to recreate weapons that led to the great angel’s war, not that I found that particular data, only a few references to it—so far. The culture Mikell grew up in was far more advanced than humanity currently is, but not something we would not have achieved within the next century, even without you finding the Excalibur. Yet, it is a pale shadow of technological heights their angel ancestors reached… before the fall.”

“Oh man, that was a bad pun even for me,” Al said and smirked.

“I couldn’t help myself,”The AI smiled.

“What about the children on Mars?” Elizabeth asked.

“I am already making a few exploration probes to send as soon as possible. The problem is that we do not really know where the MI responsible for the stasis chamber had hidden it. And yes, it was a stupid decision on their part to entrust the hiding location to a MI. They were in a rush, so they gave it a set of parameters that the hiding place had to satisfy, and hoped it would do its job. It should respond to a prearranged signal, but it needs to be sent close to its location, which will make the mission of finding it more difficult. I understand Ision’s desire to get to them as quickly as possible, but if they safely arrived on Mars, they have been there, undisturbed in stasis, for almost 13,000 years. There is no need to rush things at this point.” Max replied.

“How did they plan to retrieve the Knowledge-Vault and Ision’s AI-core if the Excaliburcouldn’t dive to those depths?” Ben asked.

“The MI on Mars has been given design plans for a deep dive submersible, so after they brought the children back, the plan was to build it and to send a retrieval mission. That was conditional on Ision and his group finding the Excalibur and the location of the Mariana Trench installation, plus on Mikell’s plan of destroying the demons succeeding. Who could have thought that some demons would remain alive or that they would kill off most of the survivors?”

“It was not a well thought out plan,” Ben voiced what everyone was thinking.

“They had just a few weeks to do it all and a panicked population to relocate all over the planet. Besides, it did work… thirteen millennia later.” The AI replied.

Michael looked at the people around the table. “We should start making plans for those children. We need to do the same thing old Atlanteans did, integrate them into existing families, so they could have some semblance of a normal life. Which means that we will soon need to inform our people about what happened, so they could get used to the idea,” Michael mused aloud.

“That is going to make some serious waves,” Emma said. “Are you going to inform people on Earth about this?”

Michael almost choked on his beer. “Not bloody likely,” he answered. “Can you imagine the number of crazies that would crawl out of the woodwork if they knew the entire story? I am even worried about how our people are going to react, let alone the Earthers. This whole thing goes against so many of their deep-rooted preconceptions, it could easily start full-blown chaos. No, we will do everything ourselves and deal with the consequences.”

Ben finished his beer and took another bottle from a nearby cooler. “I don’t think you realize the full scope of the chaos that would cause. As Ision mentioned, if you look at it from a religious standpoint and draw correlations, you have so many things that challenge established dogmas. The fall of angels, the war in heaven, Atlantis as a Garden of Eden and consequential banishment from it; and do not forget that surviving Atlanteans, with the help of angels' DNA manipulation, were much more long-lived than ordinary humans of that time were. Want to take a bet that Methuselah was an Atlantean who survived the calamity? This whole thing undermines some of the basic pillars on which several religions stand, and it will not be a pretty sight when some of those pillars are proven to be… wrong?”

Emma nodded, “Religions, supposed truths people believe in, and disputes over some small points in ancient texts, were the cause of so many conflicts and wars throughout history. A revelation of this magnitude will have volatile consequences. I don’t dare to predict everything that can come out of it.” Emma said quietly.

“So… are we all in agreement? We keep this to ourselves… as long as we can?” Michael asked.

The others silently nodded.

“I still can’t believe that even fragments of their story survived to this day, no matter how distorted. It has been almost thirteen thousand years,” Elizabeth said, breaking the silence.

“Not that surprising,” Max answered. “If you look at it from the information dissemination standpoint, they had a lot going on for them. Remember that before the attack on Atlantis, almost all of the Atlanteans and angels were relocated all over the world. The demons hunted down most of them, but not all. Over and above, they had to intermix with native populations close to their locations, just to survive harsh conditions on Earth at that time. I have no doubt that many of them became chiefs or shamans as their knowledge of basic medicine was a thousand times more advanced than the norm. So many people retelling the same story allowed it to be passed on through the ages.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be the one who had to tell all the world’s publishers that the most printed book in history needs a major edit,” Al said with a smirking expression on his face and received a few nasty looks in return.

“Shut up Al,” Tyron said from the other side of the table.

The group stayed there for a long time, discussing their future plans, and the story of Earth’s and Gaina’s past.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary orbit

Michael was sitting in his office and reading Earth-news on his tablet.

The planet was still reeling with the aftershocks of the recent terrorist attacks, and the consequential death toll. What would have happened, if that last bomb in the UN exploded, was somehow leaked to the public. To say that the world was not amused, would be an understatement of epic proportions. Russia was getting the brunt of the negative press as the creator of such devastating bioweapons, and the news was packed with detailed backgrounds of the captured terrorists, who were facing long and arduous trials in the near future.

Iraq and the surrounding countries lodged a strong protest on account of the nuclear detonation in Al Anbar Desert that destroyed the secret terrorist laboratory. In view of what was eradicated there, they were not receiving much sympathy from the rest of the world. Nobody else saw that decision as wrong, despite some peace-loving demonstrators that were objecting to the use of nuclear weapons, no matter the reasons. On the other hand, those same people protested when Philip Cain launched the nuke while the Ascension was leaving Earth, so Michael had to give them some points for consistency.

An hour ago, he got a call from President Garner, who informed him that he managed to pull some strings to organize an emergency special session of the great assembly of the United Nations, which will be held in two weeks. It was the only time window in which he could arrange for all the representatives to be there. Michael would have liked to have some additional time for things on Earth to settle a bit more, but as his grandmother used to say, ‘When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade,’ so he would work with what he had.

Earth was coming to grips with the new reality, where nuclear weapons were not the biggest scarecrows anymore. The biological weapons had proudly taken first place. Fear of them was even more pronounced than what their predecessors managed to inspire during the Cold War. What's more, thousands of companies all over the world were trying to make a profit out of it. They started producing personal masks, bio-filters for people’s homes, and hundreds of other things that would give everyone a false sense of security.

A pleasant chime signaled the opening of his office doors, so Michael looked in that direction and saw Max entering as any normal person would. It was a new trend he had adopted after he got some complaints about his annoying habit of appearing out of the thin air.

“Hey, Leader Michael Freeman, I have several things I’d like to discuss with you,” the AI said and sat himself in the chair on the other side of Michael’s desk.

“You do realize there is no need for you to be so formal, as you are in my head most of the time anyway,” Michael replied and placed his tablet on the desk.

“Yeah, but this feels more natural, and I’m trying to make people more at ease with my presence, so shut up, since you’re in the control group.”

“From the leader of the Solarian Union to a lab rat in a few seconds,” Michael grumbled and rolled his eyes. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Two things; first is an idea of mine about the future accommodation of the Atlantean children. I have substantial data about the Atlantean oasis layout before the attack and detailed architectural plans of the entire city of Atlantis. And so, I was thinking to recreate it all on one of the upper levels of the space station; it’s one of those left for the future residential expansion, and there are still no plans for its use. My thinking is that the children would far easier acclimate to the familiar surroundings,” the AI said.

Michael was speechless for a moment, trying to envision the scope of such a project while remembering the images of the futuristic city the Atlanteans and Angels built on Antarctica. “Jesus, you don’t think small, do you? How long do you think it will take for you to finish it?”

“Well, I have all the needed material for it, so the city itself and terrain will not be that hard to do. Of course, there will need to be some changes to the height of a few buildings; they had the tendency to build high in Atlantis and they would go way past the ceiling. Also, the level is much smaller than the area of the Atlantean oasis, so there will not be as much space, but all the important things can be crammed inside with room to spare.”

On top of Michael’s desk, a hologram of the future level appeared, with the city in the center, cleverly incorporating the central pillar with the surrounding buildings leaning on it, one could hardly see it anymore. There were lakes and forests around the city, with many rivers and parks incorporated into the design, it looked so natural. The model was a perfect blend of nature and architecture, so unlike the modern cities on Earth. And he could see the angel influence through the entire place, in the curvy lines and buildings that looked like seashells with wavy spires. This new Atlantis looked as if it has spontaneously grown from the ground, not something artificial and built by mortal beings.

“Do you like it? I did make some changes to the original,” Max asked and looked expectantly at Michael.

“I love it… Max… it’s incredible!” Michael exclaimed, seeing thousands of minuscule details that composed this work of architectural art.

Max smiled and continued. “The biggest problem will be the same thing we have on the main residential level of the Space station, bringing enough good soil from the planet, and transporting enough plants and trees to make the place look alive. We have no native flora from Atlantis itself so most of it would have to be approximated and substituted with similar plant life. The demons did a number on that place, destroying the unique flora and fauna that evolved there over time.” The AI finished with a sour expression.

“Well I am all for it, and I think there will be plenty of people willing to relocate so they can live in the recreation of the earth’s oldest city. The children will surely appreciate the familiar environment. As a matter of fact, I'm calling dibs on a nice apartment in one of the towers.” Michael said, imagining the view from up above.

“No problemo, I’ll even make it a penthouse,” The AI grinned.

“And the second thing?” Michael asked after the hologram of the new Atlantis disappeared.

Max leaned in his chair and placed his crossed hands on Michael’s desk.

“I have been going through every single piece of digitized archaeological data going back as far as written records existed. You would not believe how many papers and publications there are on the subject. In any case, after I went through most of it, a pattern began to appear… a very suspicious one.

“It would seem that there were some unexplained discoveries going back for hundreds of years; things that had no connections to the established history. The most clues I found in a few old handwritten journals that were recently scanned in a worldwide campaign to preserve the world’s heritage from deteriorating further, since the paper they were written on is beginning to disintegrate. Thousands of libraries all over the world are scanning their collections and uploading them online, and some of them tell interesting stories of strange excavations and weird skeletons that were found. There are also numerous mentions of unidentifiable pieces of metal, that were obviously processed, and yet impossible when carbon dating results were received.”

“You think someone is deliberately suppressing all the findings?” Michael asked.

“Oh yes, even in recent times, there have been a few discoveries by some much-respected individuals; however, they were all discredited and their discoveries allegedly proved a hoax. There is a common denominator to all of them, and it is quite surprising. It seems that the old saying is true, and all roads do lead to Rome. Or to be precise, to the Vatican; in all those cases, the Church was somehow involved,” Max stated.

“Now, that is quite interesting, did you find anything in their files?”

“All I could access was the part of their network available to the public, but there is a separate one that is physically isolated and surprisingly well secured. There are several big countries out there that do not have such strong and sophisticated cybersecurity as the Vatican does. I could try breaking in, by sending a few nanites drones to establish a connection.” Max proposed.

Michael stayed silent, thinking to himself. “You can do that, but I think we should go and ask them about it—in person,” he said finally.

The AI looked at him inquisitively. “You realize they will never give that sort of information freely? Pound for pound, they are the most secretive organization on Earth. We will have to go through miles of red tape only for them to tell us, ‘sorry, better luck next time’.”

Michael gave the kind of smile Max recognized from looking in the mirror, usually when he was up to no good. “I know, that’s why we will start from the top; tomorrow morning we are going to visit the Vatican, and the man in charge,” Michael said to the surprised AI.

***

Apostolic Palace

The Vatican

Pope John Paul III poured himself a glass of wine and sat down in his favorite chair, to rest, after a long day.

The last meeting was the most excruciating one; he had to reprimand one jovial bishop about his conduct. The man could not seem to understand that drinking himself silly every day and doing so with the sacramental wine, did not bring him closer to God, or showed his piousness to the world. The last sermon he performed, under the influence, had already been seen more than five million times on the Internet. The irony that he was currently drinking wine to relax did not escape his quirky sense of humor.

“Excuse me, Your Holiness, for barging in, but I need to ask you some questions… if you wouldn’t mind.” The unfamiliar voice said behind him.

He turned toward the voice and saw someone standing beside his open window. It was a man dressed all in black, with the face he instantly recognized. Not so surprising; for the last couple of months he saw the same face on the television almost every day.

“Leader Freeman, what a pleasant surprise; would you care for some wine?” The Pope asked and lifted his glass as a welcome gesture to the young man.

***

Michael was confused by the calm demeanor of the man before him. He expected him at least to be startled at his sudden appearance beside his window, yet he did not even blink. Some people may call his ingress into the Papal apartment a sacrilege, but it was the most convenient and expedient way to get the answers about the enigmatic archaeological findings.

“Yes, thank you, a glass would be just fine. I am sorry for showing up like this, but going through the regular channels would have taken ages.”

“Think nothing of it; I am always available for those that need me. At the end of the day, that is in my job description.” Pope John smiled.

Michael took the glass his host poured and sat in the indicated chair. He lifted the glass of wine into the air, “To your health, your Holiness.”

“To peace on Earth, my son, and please call me John,” the old man replied.

“Then I am Michael.”

He took a sip of wine and was surprised by its taste. He wasn't a wine drinker, never liked the sour taste of the wines that were available when he was trying to be more sophisticated, for some girl. Regardless, this one was sweet, tasty, reminding him of spring and fresh fruits.

Seeing Michael’s expression, the Pope showed another wide smile. “It’s from the Papal wine cellar; I go there sometimes and pick a random bottle, and the taste is a surprise to me every single time. But I suspect you didn’t come here to talk about wine, so tell me Michael, why this unexpected visit?”

Michael pulled out his tablet, pressed play on a video file, and offered the device to the old man. “Do you know anything about them?”

The video was the one Max created last night, just for this occasion. It started with a short summary of the conflict between angels and demons. Then it showed disturbing images of demons attacking the population of Gaina, the colony ship’s flight, and arrival in the Solar System. It ended with the few clips made by Atlantean automated solar drones, about demon hunts, and consequential monstrous feasts.

Pope John Paul III looked at the tablet, and sat there quietly, not saying a word until the entire sequence was over. Then he shuddered and closed his eyes. His lips moved while he was saying a silent prayer. After a minute, he opened his eyes, took his glass, and finished the remaining wine.

“A part of me wants to believe this is all a trick. A computer-generated film, like all those new movies…” The man said and looked directly at Michael.

“Tell me, Michael, do you believe in God?”

The question caught Michael off guard, and he took a few moments before answering it.

“I always saw myself as an agnostic. Well, if you disregard a few situations in the foxholes when I prayed with all my soul.”

The Pope smiled sadly. “I always believed that he loves all his children equally, no matter in whose image they chose to worship him. And for the likes of you, the undecided, I think he has enough room in his heart to love you all as well.”

He grew quiet after saying that and looked through the window at the bright full moon in the night sky. Michael did not want to rush the man, so he sat there quietly for a few minutes, until he could see that the Pope had come to a decision. The old man stood from his chair and said to Michael, “come with me, I have something to show you.”

As they were exiting the Papal apartment, members of the Pontifical Swiss Guard in front of it went for their weapons, after seeing Michael walking by their protectee. He certainly did not come in through the doors they were guarding, and any intruder in this place was a potential assassin.

One movement of the Pope’s hand returned them to their previous position, silent and unmoving. Michael thought that it was quite impressive, even if he was a moment away from using his augmented speed, to disable them.

The Pope told them a few words in Italian and they immediately whispered into the microphones at their wrists, and then followed a few steps behind Michael and his Holiness.

“When your spaceship lifted from that island, I suspected some things,” the Pope said as they were walking. “I thought you had found something left behind, which enabled you such accelerated technological growth. Even so, I wasn’t sure, and some questions are better not asked.” The old man said.

They took an elevator down the subterranean level, and Michael was surprised to see a mini subway train waiting for them.

“The subway track was bored through, a few decades ago. It is the smallest subway in the world, primarily used for mail, but I get to use it for quick transportation. Before that, you had to walk the entire way, and Popes are not usually young men so we tire easily.” John explained as they entered the small train, and took their seats.

“You have been hiding the archaeological evidence of the past? That is what pointed us to the Vatican connection.” Michael asked as the train entered the tunnel.

John nodded. “Regrettably so… to our shame. I want you to see something before I tell you why,” he replied with a pained look in his eyes that Michael could not refuse.

The subway ride was not that long, a little more than two minutes later, the train stopped at a beautifully decorated small station. After another elevator ride downward, Michael was trying to calculate how deep underground they were.

“This is all a part of an old system that was heavily renovated and upgraded in recent years. As there is not enough room to build anything new on the surface, the decision was made to build underground,” the Pope explained their strange route.

The elevator stopped after a surprisingly long time, and they entered a large hallway that ended with massive vault doors. They were something one would expect to see in a bank, and not beneath the Holy City.

“We are about to enter into one of the most secret places in the Vatican. It’s a good thing I run this place, or I could get fired for bringing someone unauthorized inside.” He smiled and placed his hand on a palm reader beside the metal doors. After a few loud clicks, they automatically opened.

“Follow me,” he said to Michael and entered. Michael was a few steps behind the Pope, while two guards that followed them from the papal apartment, remained at the door.

They entered into an enormous room with hundreds of closed climate controlled shelves. Books that to Michael looked ancient were inside, and many artifacts made out of precious metals.

“People always say that the Vatican is full of treasures, but here is the true treasure,” the Pope pointed at the shelves. “So many memories and writings by our ancestors; shaping more than two thousand years of our history, which we are trying to preserve for future generations.”

The Pope did not stop but continued through the aisles until they came to the opposite wall and the small unremarkable shelf, leaning on it. He looked at Michael once again and nodded to himself. Taking a golden cross key from his pocket, he inserted it into a barely visible keyhole, on the side of the shelf, and turned it a couple of times. The entire shelf moved to the side, revealing a staircase that went down.

“I have been down there only twice,” the old man said. “First was when I became the Pope, and the second time was to convince myself that the things I saw inside were real, and not a bad dream I had.”

They went down the steps, one more level, before arriving at the ancient-looking doors. The Pope took out another key and unlocked the surprisingly smooth lock. When he opened the door and turned on the lights, Michael was rendered speechless by the sight in front of him.

The room was far smaller than the one upstairs, but its contents couldn’t be more dissimilar. There were dozens of pedestals holding pieces that he recognized as fallen parts of the destroyed Mikell’s and the demon’s ships. However, what drew his attention were six skeletons that stood prominently in the middle of the room. The most astonishing thing about them was that they were—not human.

“They have been here for a long time,” the Pope said quietly, standing beside Michael.

Five skeletons were of demonic origin, the bones gray in color as if they were made of metal. They were held together, anatomically correct, by pieces of wire. Michael approached the first one and felt the shiver go down his spine. It was one thing to see them on the holo-screen, or even as holograms, and quite another to stand before the remains of the terrifying monsters.

This thing was enormous, at least seven feet tall and much wider than he was. The skull had a menacing row of shark teeth that still looked razor-sharp, and the tips of the bone fingers ended with dangerous-looking claws. He walked down the line, noticing that there were some incomplete ones, with a few bones missing here and there. At the end of the row, he came before the last item in this macabre exhibit. It was a skeleton of an adult angel, delicate and white; beneath its shoulder blades, two bones protruded and spread into skeletal wings. There were hundreds of bones there, painstakingly reassembled with the thin gold wire.

Michael looked closer and saw one unsettling feature on the bones, there were numerous distinct tooth-marks on their surface, and he realized that they were made by gnawing demon teeth while stripping the meat.

He turned toward the Pope. “John, why has the church kept this hidden?”

The old man could not meet his gaze. “It was a decision of my predecessors to do so, made more than a thousand years ago. It was deemed that having tangible evidence of their existence would be damaging to the entire church. Here is the proof that angels were mortal, and that the demons roamed the Earth. I am glad they were never misused, even when the church was led by people of questionable ethics. Can you imagine the chaos this revelation would make, the despair it would cause?”

He walked over the angel skeleton. “It doesn’t take much imagination to realize how he died, and what killed him.” He placed one hand on the angel bones. “We would have to rewrite a big part of our Holy book, which could be quite problematic. So we collected the evidence and kept it here in case there was a time when it was needed.”

“John, you do realize these are alienskeletons, not divine?” Michael hesitantly asked, looking at the Pope.

The older man smiled. “Young man, I happened to have a bachelor’s degree in astrophysics, along with my Ph.D. in theology. Hence, it was not so hard to come to that conclusion. In truth, that was why I followed my predecessors’ example and kept the secret. People would start looking at the heavens with fear of what was there, not in wonder and awe anymore. You, doing what you did, reaching for those endless frontiers was the right thing to do,” the Pope said. “Going where no man has gone before, as Captain Kirk used to say; I still love that show.”

They stayed there for a while, and Michael even got permission to take samples from the skeletons and some of the metals. Using his monomolecular knife, he collected a few shavings of bone for analysis.

An hour later, they were again in the Papal apartment, having another glass of wine.

“So, what will you do with this information, Michael?” The Pope asked him.

“Nothing… I agree with you, showing this to the world now would cause widespread unrest. In time, this may change, but there is no need to open this particular can of worms.”

“Good, eases my mind. Now, if you don't mind satisfying an old man’s curiosity, would you tell me what it was that you found? I have been thinking about it a lot lately.”

Michael thought for a while, judging the security implications, but was moved by the trust the man showed him, and so he answered, “A fully functioning spaceship, built by the joint efforts of angels and humans from Atlantis.”

He was glad that the man had a strong heart; if judging by the size of his eyes, his heartbeat must have gone through the roof. He spent the next hour telling the leader of the Catholic Church most of what happened since he fell into that hole. By the end, the once full bottle of wine was now empty.

The last thing Pope John Paul III said to him was, “you know you can talk to me if you need anything, the church is there to help the people.”

Michael said his goodbyes and left through the same window from which he entered the apartment. After putting on his helmet that was left on the ledge, he activated the camouflage and got a hold of the thin graphene rope that was hanging from the transporter that had brought him here. He sent a message to Tyron and was pulled upwards into the dark night.

Looking down, he saw Pope John leaning out of the window, trying to figure out how Michael managed to disappear.

Book 3 - Chapter 15

Transporter 001

Rome, Italy

Michael climbed into the transporter and said they could leave Rome, when Al interrupted, “we need to make a quick stop in the city.”

“Whatever for?” Tyron asked him, while he was coiling the long graphene rope between his palm and elbow.

“We are in Italy, the birthplace of pizza; it would be criminal if we didn’t buy any. I already ordered them online, we just need to pick them up,” he explained with a wide grin.

Michael rolled his eyes. “OK, we may as well; who are we to argue with Al’s appetite.”

The pizzeria was on the outskirts of Rome, a quaint little place that was about to close up. Al’s order of twenty large pies made them more than happy to wait a few more minutes for them. If they were surprised to see four men and one woman entering their shop, dressed in black battle-suits—they didn’t show it. Besides, there was a masquerade ball in the neighborhood, so maybe the strange outfits were not that surprising. They were quite happy to take cash for such a large order, and all the pies were of the biggest size they offered.

As the team was returning to the transporter, parked on a small shielded grass playground near the pizzeria, a high-pitched woman’s scream drew their attention. From one of the side alleys a young woman appeared. She was running as fast as she could, with a torn shirt and mascara tears running down her face. When she was halfway between the alley and the team, six very rough-looking men came into view, chasing after her. The girl spotted Michael and the team, with the pizza boxes in their hands, and ran in their direction.

“Aiuto! Per favore, aiuto!” She screamed again.

Max was providing automatic translation via their implants, so they knew that the woman was asking for help. Pete was the quickest on his feet; hastily giving his pies to Al, he caught the woman as she fell into his arms.

The group of thugs that were chasing her, stopped before the team and assessed the situation. Michael and the others had left their helmets in the transporter; their masquerade outfits plus the pies they were carrying must have lessened the intimidation factor of the team. One of the thugs pulled a switchblade knife and said in Italian, “Leave the woman to us and get out of here, or we will cut you up.”

Michael looked at Tyron and smirked. “I wonder how we are going to tell the story? Probably beginning with, ‘we went out for a pizza’…”

Pete told the girl, “don’t worry, you are safe now,” and gave her to Alice, then he moved toward the thugs, flexing his hands.

“I got this,” he sent through the comms.

“Run away, you fool! Or else you will die here!” the one with the knife threatened.

In normal circumstances, his threat would have made perfect sense, as he was 6.3 feet tall and had more than enough muscle mass, with discernible signs of a heavy steroid user. His friends were a bit smaller than him, but not by much.

“Gentlemen, and I use that term loosely, it would be far healthier for you to turn around and go home,” Pete said in English, which only produced confused looks.

Al, who learned Italian by his grandmother’s knee, tried to help. “He said that you all have small testicles and that you should go home and perform anatomically impossible acts on yourselves. And he said some bad stuff about your mothers too.”

“Thanks, Al,” Pete murmured, looking at his friend from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t mention it, buddy, anytime.”

“You know that Max is translating everything?”

“Yep, just wanted to give them some incentive, they look undecided.”

It took some time for the thugs to process what Al helpfully translated for them, and by their expressions, it was clear they got into the gene pool while the lifeguard wasn’t watching.

The look of rage on their faces was slow in coming, nonetheless, quite disturbing. Without any thought of tactics or coordination, they all rushed in Pete’s direction.

What happened next was an educational lesson for the Italian ruffians and an interesting display of what happens when one goes against someone who is miles above one’s fighting class.

The one with the knife was first to reach Pete; that earned him a full jaw of shattered teeth, and his own knife lodged in his shoulder. His friends didn’t fare better than him; they were soon lying on the ground moaning with several broken bones—each.

They would be fine… eventually, after extensive physical therapy and some psychiatric counseling. Pete must have had some unresolved issues as he did not hold back, and returned to serve seconds to the ones who were still being offensive.

The most entertained was Al, who sat on a nearby bench, took one slice from the box, and started cheering his friend as if he was watching an MMA fight. The only time he interfered was when one flying body was threatening the big stack of pizza boxes. Therefore, he intercepted the offender, who was still in the air, and returned him to the same direction he flew in from… while still holding his slice between his teeth.

When everyone was pacified, Pete returned to the girl. “Can you tell us what happened?” He tried to say in Italian by reading the translation on his HUD.

She looked at him with wide eyes and a bit of hero worship easily discernible on her face.

“Si, certo! I speak English, and they were going to kill me.” She said and wiped a tear sliding down her face. “I am an accountant and I realized that my boss was working for the Mafia. I reported him to the police, but he had connections there and they dismissed me. I tried to go to the newspapers, but they would not listen to me either. For the last few days, I had the feeling I was followed but was not really sure. Tonight, they were waiting for me as I was coming home. They said that I talked too much and that they were going to shut me up for good, but I managed to run away from them and that’s when I saw you.”

“Okay, don’t worry now,” Pete said, “what’s your name?”

“Lucretia,” the girl answered.

“And I’m Pete, this is Michael, Al, Tyron, and Alice. Do you have any place to stay, a family we can take you to?”

She looked at the ground and shook her head. “No, I don’t have anyone. My parents died long ago and I don’t know where I can hide now.”

Pete looked at Michael inquisitively; giving him a hurt puppy expression he learned from Al and got a nod in response.

“We are going to take you somewhere safe,” he said to the girl and received a hopeful look in return.

A few minutes later, the transporter once again lifted to the skies and set its course towards the Ascension.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary Orbit

The next two weeks after returning from the Vatican passed without any earth-shaking events; a welcomed slowing of pace for everyone. That didn’t mean that Michael had any rest, just the opposite. His workload intensified due to the preparations for the big meeting in the UN, where he was going to say some things that were bound to make waves on a global level.

He smiled when he remembered the night when they brought pizza from Rome. Their welcoming committee acted like a bunch of starving piranhas that suddenly realized there was fresh meat in the water. Michael had to use his official position to secure one extra slice for himself, which Elizabeth immediately confiscated. By unanimous vote, it was decided that a few pizza makers from Italy needed to be recruited; not that the pies from the food court were bad, it was just that the originals were way better.

The girl they brought from Rome, Lucretia, was fitting right in. She was immediately given work by Elizabeth, once she found out that Lucretia had a degree in economics and accounting from Università di Bologna, one of Europe’s premier universities. A few days after their return, Pete and Al went to see her boss, for a little eye-to-eye session, and a lesson in intimidation tactics. He was persuaded to turn himself in and agreed to be a witness in the case against his employers. Subsequently, there were many arrests in Rome that week, even a few law enforcement officers found themselves behind the bars.

Moreover, judging by Pete’s behavior, he had taken a real shine to Lucretia. Max explained it as a clash between the damsel in distress and the white knight syndromes and was already asking Michael and the others if they had any idea what they should buy them for the wedding. Pete was even seen with a flower bouquet, he bought on Earth, asking her on a date.

The life on the Ascension has returned to normal, and the borrowed virologists were sent home. They were now enjoying long interrogation sessions conducted by the intelligence agencies from their respective countries, about things they had seen here. Max said there was nothing to worry about; they were constantly under his watchful eyes, and had never discovered anything that was not already known.

With every day, the station was coming closer to its final destination, and the botanists’ contingent was performing miracles by making it look even more natural. They well should be, considering the amount of money they were spending on a daily basis by buying plants, in bulk, from all over the world. Michael saw the video of an enormous Sequoia tree that was the centerpiece of the transplanted forests; he still could not believe they managed to transport it there.

Max has sent dozens of probes to Mars, with the mission of finding the hidden stasis chamber. It would have been much easier if they knew the exact location, but at least they had a starting point—Olympus Mons. The tallest mountain in the Solar System, with a height of 72,000 ft. (21 km). The machine intelligence that took it there was programmed to use it as a starting location, so the probes would follow in its footsteps.

At the moment, Michael was standing in front of the mirror, trying to figure out how to tie a full Windsor knot on his necktie. Formal suits were not his thing in general. Give him his basic BDU or jeans and a T-shirt, and he was perfectly comfortable; yet this occasion called for more formal attire, so he had to endure.

“Here, let me get that,” said Elizabeth, and in a few magical moves tied a perfect knot. “Are you nervous?”

“What do I have to be nervous about? I only need to speak before all of the world leaders and convince them to give me something they have no intention to give,” Michael answered with a grimace.

“You are not asking them to give anything for free, you’re offering fair trade, and giving them plenty in return; have a little faith,” Elizabeth said and kissed him.

***

Half an hour later, he was sitting in a transporter that was going to New York City. Tyron and Al were with him, acting as bodyguards. They were going to the same place from where they previously took that deadly piece of art which almost killed a considerable percentage of the world’s population—UN headquarters.

This meeting was the culmination of an idea he had a long time ago, and it cost him all IOUs he had with President Garner and other world leaders to make it happen on such short notice. Nonetheless, Max’s algorithms showed that the time was right, as the world looked at them as their saviors. Their public image was at an all-time high. Still, Michael wasn’t so sure that even if they consider them all to be bona fide saints, they would agree with his agenda.

“Max, how’s the attendance?” He asked the AI whose image was on the transporter’s holo-screen.

“Every single leader of the UN is there, and they know that something big is cooking so they didn’t want to be the one to miss out.”

“Great,” Michael murmured.

“Hey, you’re going to do fine—they will not know what hit them. So… break a leg.” Max tried to encourage him.

“All right, stop blowing smoke up my ass, I’m feeling bloated. Let’s get this show on the road,” Michael replied.

In no time, they were approaching the UN building complex; he could see a distinctive line made by the members of the New York Police Department officers, and behind them a virtual sea of news reporters. They didn’t have a clue about what was going on, yet, considering that almost all world leaders were in the building, the media frenzy was unavoidable. The security was bordering on insane and thousands of security officers from all over the world were in New York City. Max had placed five of his satellites above them, just in case. A terrorist attack right now could cause a worldwide crisis.

The transporter landed at the same place as the last time, and Michael, followed by Tyron and Al, got out of it. Members of the press went into a state of hysteria, trying to shout thousands of questions from too far away. Once again, the first person they saw was agent Martin as he stood close to the main entrance, in front of the line of police officers in full riot gear.

“Leader Freeman, nice to see you again,” Martin said.

“Agent Martin, how have you been? I hope everything is in order.” Michael replied, looking at the long line of officers.

“Oh, just fine, and they are there to stop anyone from coming in before being cleared by me. You could say I got a new promotion as an official doorman of the world.” Martin said with a smile. “They’re expecting you in a few minutes.”

When he entered the building, he felt like every single UN officer in the world was inside, and among them the one he remembered from the last time. Mr. Arnold Feuer, the man in charge, who Michael last saw running away as fast as he could, to escape the bomb inside. He gave the man a small nod and the security officer looked at the floor, not being able to meet his gaze. Michael shrugged his shoulders and proceeded inside.

The Solarian Union was not yet a member of the UN, and if it were up to Michael, it would be a long time before they joined. It was too much of a hassle, yet, the veto power could save him some additional headaches in the future. If things progressed as he hoped, they would be required to have some presence here. He wondered if he could persuade Jack to take on that role. The fact that all member states had gathered here in an impromptu emergency special session, spoke volumes about the future Solarian influence on all of their lives.

He stood before the doors of the General Assembly Hall, waiting to be called to speak as this meeting was not open to the public. It barely took a few minutes before the man in a black suit opened the door and said, “Leader Freeman, if you will follow me, they’re expecting you.”

Michael entered the hall, and immediately hundreds of eyes were turned in his direction. Tyron and Al had to wait outside, and for a moment, he wanted to trade places with one of them, but that was only a fleeting fantasy. The President of the General Assembly announced him, and repeated that they were holding this meeting at the Solarian Union request.

He stood there looking at the sea of faces, all intensely focused on him. There was so much real power concentrated in this hall, he could feel it as a pressure wave. For all that, procrastinating was not something he would allow himself to do here—he had things to sell.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for agreeing to come back here on such a short notice, but it was necessary. We of the Solarian Union deemed that what we are about to discuss is too important for the future and advancement of our race. I am not used to these kinds of meetings, so excuse me if I unintentionally break some of your protocols.”

Michael looked down at a few papers he prepared, really a handwritten list of things he needed to tell them.

“In a nutshell, the Solarian Union wants to offer you a trade, in the true sense of that word. There is something that we want, and there are many things that we are prepared to give you in exchange for that. So, before I tell you what we need from you, let me show you what we are ready to put on the table.”

Max had made a presentation that started playing on the big monitors so everyone could clearly see.

The first item was the International Space Station 2, and all the amenities and advantages it provided. It was offered for all countries to use, without paying anything for it. The S.U. would be responsible for its maintenance, and they will even provide regular transportation to and from the station. The benefits for all were immense, especially now when the first one was a bunch of scrap that Max planned to use as a museum piece. Even those countries that had never had any space presence would have an opportunity to be on even footings with everybody else. Michael saw the glee in their eyes the moment he said free of charge.

Next was a long list of composite materials that would revolutionize several industries. Unbreakable glass, super-strong light alloys, transparent metals, were no more than a few of the things on the list. Max had pulled some formulas from the Knowledge Vault and they represented literal leaps of progress in material sciences.

When he said that they would make the CEI technology available to the world, the murmur in the hall grew much stronger. What he failed to mention was that those would not be CEI implants that Solarians had, but modified—light versions. Much easier to install, and as there was no need for them to control medical nanites, the required processing power was down by orders of magnitude.

He offered medical and life-prolonging treatments that made a bunch of old men in the audience spontaneously start clapping. By Max’s prognosis, a normal human life should be extended for at least fifty years, using the AutoDocs and gene therapy that Atlanteans and angels developed thousands of years ago.

Easily accessible satellite communication for all people on earth, with unlimited Internet bandwidth, again received ovations. The list went on, with some minor things, and then finally Michael offered the last item; it was the one that silenced the entire hall—free energy.

It was something Max found while searching through the FBI classified records, and they were obliging enough to transfer them all into digital media some years ago. In that sea of buried secrets, he discovered Nikola Tesla’s plans and formulas for wireless energy transfer. The man was a Serbian-American engineer and inventor, one of the brightest minds humanity ever produced. He was known for inventing the radio, alternating current, Neon lamps, wireless remote control, AC Motor, and a multitude of other inventions. Yet, the wireless energy transfer was something he never made into a reality; he even built a Wardenclyffe Tower on Long Island in 1901, to test his theory. Unfortunately, the funds ran out and the whole idea had to be scrapped. The man had not much of a business sense; if he had cashed in all his patents, he could have been the richest man on Earth. Instead, he died alone, in a hotel room—in abject poverty.

Max took those plans, and with the help of Ben’s scientific contingent, massively improved them. A fleet of satellites, placed in orbit with enormous solar collectors, could harness the abundant energy of the Sun, and then send it towards the Earth, energizing it. That way an electric car would not even need batteries; all compatible devices would always have power, directly from utilizing Earth’s energized magnetic field. The Solarian Union would provide the entire infrastructure, and supply the energy. Moreover, the best thing of all was no more CO2 emissions; that would make Greenpeace ecstatic. An entire global warming problem could be given a stake through the heart.

For a few seconds, the silence ruled, and then a true bedlam began. Every single representative was trying to ask a question, while the President of the General Assembly was banging on his gavel, asking for peace and order, and not getting any results. It took more than ten minutes for all the representatives to calm down and a semblance of order to be brought to the hall.

Michael stood there, unmoving, riding the storm and waiting for the question to be asked. As soon as the room was somewhat quiet, it arrived.

“Leader Freeman,” the President addressed him directly. “All these things you offered today would individually be a great boon to the people of Earth. Medical and life-extension therapy, not to mention CEI implants will bring great changes in our societies. I cannot even begin to imagine the ramifications of free energy. There is no one among us who would not want to have such benefits for their people. Yet, I must ask… what the Solarian Union wants in return?”

Michael looked at hundreds of faces in the hall that were completely focused on him. He felt an eerie feeling under the intensity of their gazes. There was something predatory in them, mixed with greed and want in their expressions. For a moment, he considered telling a joke and asking them for their firstborns. The scary thing was that he wasn’t so sure all of them would refuse him. Then he grew serious and followed the script they prepared.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, we are prepared to offer you giant technological and medical leaps, which will help you resolve so many problems your people face each and every day. However, we ask for something that by our estimate is of equal value.”

He paused and took a deep breath.

“In exchange, we ask for the continent of Antarctica.”

Book 3 - Chapter 16

Earth, New York City

UN Headquarters

The silence in the UN General Assembly great hall was oppressive and tense. Michael’s face did not show any emotions, yet his heart was drumming in his chest.

Despite all Max’s predictions, there was one thing that could always be considered a wild card—the human factor. From his position on the speaker dais, he could see more than one mouth hanging open, and several world leaders were looking at one another in confusion.

“Excuse me, Leader Freeman, did you say… Antarctica?” The President of the General Assembly asked in a strained voice.

Michael nodded. “Yes, the continent of Antarctica in its entirety; including a belt of coastal waters extending twelve nautical miles from the baseline, as defined by the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. The Solarian Union would like for it to become our sovereign territory, in exchange for all we offered.”

That was the plan Michael and Max contrived a long time ago. The Earth was still the best place in the Solar System for sustaining life, and the advantages of having a large territory on the planet’s surface were incalculable. The first plan was to ask for a series of uninhabited islands, and territorial claims in several countries, but that would have been an extremelyhard sell.

After hearing Ision’s story, Antarctica became a logical solution. Large domes could be constructed for climate control, not so different from levels on the station, and it gave them a connection to the Earth, making so many things less complicated. With the technology they controlled, it had unlimited potential. It was not as if the idea did not have a precedent. In 1867 the USA bought Alaska from the Russian empire at a great discount, at a rock bottom price of two cents per acre.

That is why they were offering so many things to the world, all of it was nothing but sweetening the pot. You cannot just ask for the entire continent, no matter how inhospitable it is, and expect world powers to give it to you. While it could theoretically be taken by force, using Hammers to deny access to anyone else, it was not something they even contemplated doing. Starting wars was not on the Solarian Union’s agenda.

He expected shouts, screams, and swearing; instead, as per Max’s predictions, the relentless questioning began. Luckily, Max has prepared him for every single one of them, and he cheated by using his CEI. They wanted clarification on some points, and what each one of them could gain with the entire deal.

The ISS2 will be owned by the Solarian Union, and all proprietary technologies built into it would be safeguarded. Regardless, every nation in the world could send scientists for a long stay, so they could perform all the experiments they want. However, every attempt to disassemble gravity plates or its power source would be severely sanctioned, and the nation of the perpetrator would lose all rights to ISS2 for the duration of ten years.

CEI implants will be made available as a finished product, the implantations will be performed by licensed hospitals by the physicians who would be required to undergo training on the Ascension. The Solarian Union was prepared to build a specialized hospital, in every country in the world, where such procedures could be performed. Although, life-extension treatments would be exclusively done in the Solarian Union hospital that would be built in Antarctica.

One of the principal points of contention everybody was concerned about, was the free energy deal, considering it was not entirelyfree. Each country would get a free trial period of ten years. After that time has passed, certain fees would apply, amounting to one-third of what those countries were currently spending on energy production. Even though the S.U. could easily provide it free in perpetuity, they needed leverage on a few countries.

After hours of answering questions, Michael was mentally exhausted. Thankfully, everybody decided to stop for the day and continue the meeting tomorrow. For that reason, the next few days he spent on Earth, in endless meetings and debates. Some were miffed that Michael would not budge from his stance that all scientific missions must vacate the continent, including McMurdo Station. The scientist would be welcomed in the new research stations the Solarian Union was prepared to build and manage. The McMurdo Station would be a new site for the future hospital. The plans for it were extensive and showed that it would be a small climate-controlled town under a geodesic dome.

The countries that initially opposed the whole deal were those that had official claims on Antarctica: Australia, Norway, United Kingdom, Chile, Argentina, France, and New Zealand. Therefore, Michael used the leverage, which was the point of that limiting time period from the beginning. The deal those countries would get would be an additional twenty years of free energy, for releasing all their claims to the continent. The USA managed to arrange a provisional side deal, where they were considering the exchange of the ruined Pagan Island, for a prolonged energy deal that guaranteed another ten years of free energy. The Solarian Union would, in that case, need to settle all claims of the indigenous people, by giving them a ton of money… or more likely—several tons.

Not one of those deals were binding, they were more of a theoretical nature until the final decision was made. The General Assembly was scheduled to meet in one-month, to put the entire deal to a vote.

That month was exactly what Max needed, to convince everyone that this was the deal of the century. He leaked recordings of the sessions immediately after they were over. So the people of Earth could understand what they could possibly gain… for nothing. A remote frozen desert at the end of the world was not something regular Joe cared about. Now, the life-prolonging treatments, CEI implants, free energy, unlimited Internet access—those were the things that would make the quality of his life much better.

For the entire month, Max did not let up, uploading new videos that favored the deal, using millions of user names to be on every site, every blog, steering the public opinion towards the preferred outcome. Was it ethical? Not exactly, but this was about getting results. As Jack often quoted, “If you’re not cheating, then you’re not trying.”

***

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary orbit

Two things happened during that month of waiting for the UN decision that stirred Michael’s life. The first one was a few days after he got back to the Ascension when Max told him some news.

“Michael, the results of DNA tests for those samples you brought from the Vatican have come in.”The AI said, after entering his office.

“Were there any surprises?”

“Not with the angel DNA, as it matched the information that was already stored in the Knowledge Vault, but the demons’ DNA did not make any sense at first. Understandingly, these were ancient samples and not correctly preserved, but they provided enough data for some disturbing conclusions. In fact, I needed some advice from one of the geneticists that came with the first scientific group, and then he called a few of his colleagues to double-check the results. That’s why it took them so long to arrive at the most logical hypothesis,” Max replied.

“What was so surprising?”

“It always seemed odd to me that both races had wings as one of the most distinctive features, and there is a good reason for that. Demons are an extensively bioengineered artificial race, and I mean from the ground up. Someone used angels’ DNA as a base, and fused several species to it, creating a perfect predator. Michael, judging by the composition of their bones, those creatures’ were walking, flying, tanks. Your own bones were significantly strengthened, but that was done using artificial means, these things were born that way. That being the case, if you ever meet one in person, don’t try to arm-wrestle it—you would lose. For any detailed analysis, we would need a better-preserved specimen; ideally, one with some soft tissue attached.”

Michael looked at the AI. “That doesn’t make any sense, how could anyone have a sample of angels DNA to play with? Mikell and the refugees were the first of their kind to leave the Hemina system. Also, there would be no reason for them to put their DNA samples on those research probes they sent out.”

“I don’t know, and Ision is quite stunned too. We went through all the information we could dig up in the Knowledge Vault and there is not a clue to this mystery. We still have virtual mountains of old records to process, maybe there is some indication of the angels’ extra-solar activities.”

It was one more question to put on a long list. Max showed Michael the approximated strength of the demon when he was alive, and it presented an unsettling certainty. He was perfectly aware that if he was on Earth at the time when the hunts were conducted, his upgraded muscles and the skeletal system would be no match for this genetically engineered fighting machine. He hoped he would never have to face a member of that race, but in the back of his mind Michael felt a nagging feeling of unease, just from thinking that those creatures were roaming the stars.

Those questions would have to be unanswered, as there was no additional information that would shed more light on the riddle. Max promised to continue his search of the angels’ records, but for now, their focus was on earthly matters.

The second important thing was something he had been planning to do for a while, and in a way, it was more stressful than standing in front of the entire United Nations assembly. Just the same, with good preparation, strategic planning, and choosing the ideal moment, he believed that there would be a positive outcome.

It was not easy to organize the clandestine operation, some favors needed to be asked, and a spy in his adversary’s camp was essential. The mission of recruiting a spy went without a hitch, helped by the fact that the said individual wholeheartedly agreed with the outcome of the mission.

Finally, the D-Day arrived and Michael hoped that everything would go according to plan.

He already arranged that Elizabeth and he would have no obligation for that entire evening, so he left her a message that he had something to show her on the new space station, and that they should meet in the launch bay to board the Excalibur in a few hours.

What he did not count on was how nerve-wracking those two hours would be for him. As a result, he paced in his office until Max had had enough.

“For Christ’s sake, you’re a grown man, a leader of an entire nation, so stop acting like a teenager before your first date.”

“You would act exactly the same if you were in my shoes,” he snapped at the AI.

“That’s why I’m so glad the biochemical slavery is over for me, only from this perspective can one see how messed up humans really are… it’s embarrassing.”

Michael did not even want to acknowledge that with a response.

“How long?” He said after a few minutes.

“Five minutes less than the last time you asked that question, so… a little more than an hour.”

“Damn.” He said and continued his pacing.

He met Elizabeth in front of the Excalibur, arriving there twenty minutes early; Max said that the walk would do him some good.

“Okay, Buster, what is this thing you need to show me?” She said as soon as she arrived.

Michael smiled and hoped he wasn’t sweating. “Remember that fancy date I promised you? It’s waiting for us on the space station,” Michael said and kissed her.

***

The S.U. Space Station

The spherical space station was getting closer to Earth, almost finishing its deceleration maneuver, and could be seen from the Ascension. It appeared as one more speck of light, but Michael spent a few minutes every day looking at it with hope.

Because of the reduced distance, it took no time for the Excalibur to carry them to it. The spaceship flew directly into the main level and continued to the region named Rivendell. He seriously hoped that no one would sue them since some parts were built in the exact image as the one in the movies. It was practically finished and those involved in the project had already claimed the best housing in the area. Michael did the same; the part of him that was a fan of the Lord of the Rings would have never forgiven him if he didn’t.

The Excalibur landed on the platform specially built for it, but craftily concealed in the ambiance.

“Michael, this is amazing!” Elizabeth exclaimed when they came out of the ship. “I didn’t realize they finished this entire sector.” She said and leaned on a guardrail, looking at the multitude of waterfalls, cliffs covered with bushes and trees, and vines hanging over elegant structures. He approached her from behind and put his hands around her waist. “Max helped a little by prioritizing this section. Come on, let’s eat.”

The tables were set on a nearby terrace that had a breathtaking view of the surroundings; the holographic sun was setting, painting the clouds in the sky with beautiful red and orange colors. Interestingly enough, the entire meal consisted of Elizabeth’s favorite dishes, a list provided by the well-informed spy, which happened to be Elizabeth’s sibling.

Throughout the entire dinner, Michael tried to act casual, despite his constant faster-than-normal heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if he tasted the exquisitely prepared food, constantly thinking and rehearsing lines that he was about to say.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been on pins and needles this entire evening.” Elizabeth said when she realized that he didn’t hear a word of the story she had been telling him, just nodding and agreeing the whole time. Even when she said the sky was falling and that she was thinking about shaving her head.

He looked at her with a gaze of fierce determination, the same kind of look Caesar most likely had when he crossed the Rubicon.

“Yes… It’s time,” he murmured, and got up from the chair, went around the table and kneeled on one knee in front of her. He took a small jewelry box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a diamond engagement ring that Anna helped him choose.

“Elizabeth, I think I started falling in love with you the first time you shot your gun in my direction,” he said looking into her eyes. “You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met and I hope I can give you a happy future you deserve. I love you more than I can ever express with words…”

Michael took a deep breath, “will you marry me?” He finally said and waited for her answer.

Her eyes went from his to the ring he was holding as an offering and looked at it for a while.

Maybe it was the intensity of such a moment, but he felt as if every second lasted for hours, the silence was excruciating. He thought if he should check his CEI and see if he didn’t accidentally activate the Boost.

“I know that there are no certainties in — “

Michael would have continued with his fallback speech if his lips weren’t suddenly covered by Elizabeth’s.

She pulled back after a minute, and he saw tears running down her face, expressing her true feelings.

“Michael,” she put her hand on his face, “of course I will,” Elizabeth said and kissed him again.

Book 3 - Chapter 17

The S.U. Space station

Rivendell

Elizabeth's head was still spinning from the decision she made a few hours ago. She was happy to say yes, but it still hit her like a freight train out of nowhere. In retrospect, there were so many clues she could have picked up on, starting with Michael’s nervousness in the last few days and Anna’s unexplained constant cheerfulness. Yet, when he knelt before her and offered her this beautiful diamond ring that was on her hand right now, she was struck speechless.

Her new life bore little resemblance to the one she led back when she was an FBI analyst. OK, maybe that is not completely true as all the skills she was taught at the Academy served her well as one of the directors of the Solarian Union intelligence agency. Still, the old her would not be able to imagine the life she was leading now, being in this magical place in space, surrounded by close friends and family, feeling happy.

She looked at Michael, standing to the side and looking at the world below him. He carried such a heavy burden on his shoulders, a future of the entire nation that started as an idea of his when he was still all alone.

The Solarian Union, ancient civilization, AIs, aliens, and continent acquisition deals, those were all the stuff of history in the making. Events that children of the future will learn in schools one day. Moreover, they were all standing in the eye of that hurricane, trying to do the right thing, without making mistakes that would endanger the lives of millions. She still woke up at night seeing the faces of those they were unable to save during the bioweapons attack. Though, the ones they did, and the thousands of messages from the people expressing their gratitude, helped ease that pain.

Elizabeth knew the times ahead of them would not be easy, and there would be more demands on his time, but she could accept that. The future they were building was more important than any single one of them.

She looked again at Michael and saw a shadow of pain in his eyes. The look she was learning to recognize and which he usually got when thinking about his dad. Robert Freeman would’ve been so happy to see them engaged. She smiled, remembering one time the old man said to her that they should get married so she could make an honest man out of Michael, and that they should start working on providing him with a few grandchildren to spoil.

With a quiet sigh, Elizabeth fixed a smile on her face; this was not the time to dwell on sad things. Tonight, they should enjoy themselves, and make a good memory to last them a lifetime. She excused herself from Alice and Anna, who were talking about the plans for the wedding, and went to join Michael.

***

Michael looked around the wide terrace on which they were having the engagement party; it was built especially for these kinds of occasions. The view was magnificent, and he could not imagine a more appropriate place. Everybody was gathered in Rivendell, wanting to share such a happy occasion with them both. The food was made by several chefs that had emigrated to the S.U., two of them leaving five-star establishments for a chance to live and work in space. Who would have thought that his life would go in such a strange and extraordinary direction? Certainly not him, while he was working in that soul-numbing cubicle, waiting for the workday to end so he could go home to his not-so-great life.

Being the leader of the Solarian Union, having an upgraded body that should belong to a comic superhero, and negotiating a deal for the ownership of an entire continent, were mind-blowing things. For all that, they all paled to the fact that Elizabeth had said yes to his proposal.

He wished his father was here, to be part of the celebration; the old man would have got such a kick of the fact that Michael was getting hitched. Something he talked about for years before…

Around him were all the people that he felt close to, having a good time and talking to each other. Elizabeth was chatting with Anna and Alice, while Pete was dancing with Lucretia, with a goofy grin on his face. Jack was explaining to Al that some jokes are not proper in certain circumstances, caused by a funny sound-making cushion that Al had previously placed beneath Jack’s chair. Tyron was sitting with Emma, holding hands, and looking at Zizi, Natalie, and Leah, who were having a competition on who could spit the farthest, dutifully judged by Ares. So many others were also present tonight, relaxed, and carefree.

“Why aren’t you by your fiancé’s side? Being a wallflower was never your thing,” Max said through his implant.

“I want to soak it all in. Remember where we were before this all started? I wouldn't be able to even imagine this setting, let alone all these people that grew so important to me. I only wish Dad was here.”

“Michael, he would have wanted you to enjoy this moment, and you have time for reminiscence when you’re alone. Now turn to your left, Elizabeth is coming.”

Michael looked in her direction and saw a beautiful sight; the light was falling on her face, making it glow in subtle radiance.

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” He asked after she got close to him.

“Yes, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it a few hundred times more,” Elizabeth said and kissed him.

They spent the rest of the day in Rivendell, enjoying the jubilant atmosphere and the people that created it. It was one of those perfect days that people tend to remember for the rest of their lives.

***

Earth, New York City

United Nations Headquarters

Thousands upon thousands of people have surrounded the United Nations building complex in New York City, despite the fact that the assembly was in a closed session. The entire world knew that there was only one item on today’s agenda, and it concerned them all. That is why there were so many spectators outside, completely blocking traffic. The sea of signs and posters was like a colorful forest, which was what it took to make them all. Most of them were about people wanting free energy, life-prolonging treatments, and CEI implants. The mood of the mass was single-minded, they knew what they wanted, and they had better get it, or else...

The chronic naysayers were nowhere to be seen, in the face of such massive approval, they didn’t dare to show their faces.

Michael was once again standing before the same door, as he did one month before. He was waiting to be summoned inside and told their decision, since the Solarian Union wasn’t a United Nations member. Of course, Max was streaming a live video feed of the vote directly into his CEI, using a micro-drone, so he already knew what to expect. It was funny in the way, how much money the UN has spent on improving their digital security after the video of the last session leaked out—not that it helped any. Max had placed his micro-drone on the ceiling, and the thing blended in so well, it was impossible to detect.

For the past month, he had taken more calls than any other time in his life. Every single one of those leaders behind these doors wanted more questions answered, and all of them tried to get some concessions for themselves—without offering anything more in return. There were even several propositions by a few consolidated blocks that wanted to change the original deal, so the S.U. would only get part of Antarctica that was unclaimed. Then, they wanted to exclude the research stations and dozens of similar demands. The answer was resolute no, each and every time. Especially to the ridiculous proposal where the biggest countries wanted one entire level each on the new space station.

In all fairness, he did yield to a few benign terms, as they were already planned in advance. Even the ideas for them were proposed by certain individuals who were close to those in power; it was a very lucrative thing to have an attentive ear of some world leaders.

For one, all countries would have embassies in the Solarian Union, which was not such a big deal. Max had already made plans for the embassy dome to be built close to the site of the new hospital. It will be a specialized dome that will house all of the foreign ambassadors and their staff, with nice residences and a few parks. Max even included a golf course, opera house, and a casino in the plans, to make them relaxed and to take their money. It was Emma’s idea, “Keep them fat and happy, and give them a lot of distractions,” she said. Why go to all that trouble? Well, they needed to maintain good relations with the Earth’s nations, so that they could streamline the entire immigration process, without any interference. Besides, that dome would be like a five-star hotel/prison; the conditions outside would not exactly be pleasant, Antarctica was not known for its tourist destinations. Any suggestions about embassies on the Ascension, or the new space station, were turned down flat.

A dozen small research stations would be spread across Antarctica, where foreign scientists could perform their experiments to their heart's content. Of course, they would all be built and controlled by the Solarian Union. What is more, as all the ambassadors, those people would essentially be trapped in those locations. Antarctica’s weather was the best deterrent for foreign spies, with the temperatures of −70.6°F (−57 °C), and in some places even going down to −135.8°F (−93.2 °C). In such conditions, human beings are extremely focused on staying warm.

The last concession that was agreed upon was a small research station on the Moon, with the same limitation that ISS2 had. The Solarian Union would build it and control it, and they would get to play in it. Just a few scientists from every world nation, with minimal amenities and creature comforts; after all, they should not get too comfortable. Max gave a briefing about how everybody secretly planned to join the Solarian Union in space, creating their own habitats and spreading even further. Eventually, Michael and the others would need to burst that bubble—it would simply not be allowed. It was the S.U. way or a highway, and everyone on Earth should accept that fact.

He smiled to himself as he remembered that evening in Rivendell and the moment of ecstatic happiness when Elizabeth accepted his proposal. It was as if the weight of an entire space station was suddenly lifted off his shoulders. The party that followed carried on until the next morning; it helped that all their friends and family were already on the station, waiting for Max to signal them to come to them. It was one of the weirdest parties he had ever been to; the fantastical Elven city was reverberating with the sounds of rock ‘n’ roll and some techno tracks Elizabeth liked.

The moment came and the doors opened; the same man in a black suit told him that they were ready to receive him. Michael walked slowly inside and stopped before the speaker’s dais.

“Leader Freeman,” the President of the General Assembly began. “I’m happy to inform you that the General Assembly of the United Nations voted in favor of your proposal. The continent of Antarctica will become the sovereign territory of the Solarian Union.”

That was it; with those few words, a new chapter for the nation he created has been opened. Every member stood up from their seats and started clapping enthusiastically; there were even a few loud whistles that broke from the crowd. They were not clapping for him, but for themselves and the deal they made. To be honest, Michael was not all that surprised with the outcome of the vote, they all worked very hard at stacking the deck. After the original proposal, the votes were barely above 50% in their favor, especially those that stood to lose their territory in Antarctica, and they had a veto power to stop the whole deal in its tracks. There were even some propositions for many of them to make a coalition and to attack the Solarian Union. Therefore, the time-honored tools when dealing with international realpolitik were used—bribes and blackmail.

“You spent how much?!” He shouted when Max showed him the spreadsheet; he could hardly believe it. The amount of money spent on bribes was staggering, more billions than he would have liked to contemplate. In spite of that, as AI replied, “It’s only money, and getting an entire continent at that price—it’s a bargain.”

Regardless of the fact that for such insane amounts, he could have bought some small countries outright, and then some. The blackmail was morally wrong but necessary; it was essential to sway a majority of votes, and extensive secret files of the late ‘High Council’ provided all they needed. The movers and shakers on the top level of governance tended to be morally corrupt individuals. Where there was a sin, there was a weakness to exploit. Max even gave him a long lecture about realpolitik, and a few examples of unscrupulous things that were done in the past, yet, which brought substantial results.

Conversations (a.k.a. bribes and outright blackmail) were clandestine and conducted by Max. They usually went along the lines of: “Hey there, Mr. World leader, sir. We will keep your reprehensible secret if you do this little favor for us—vote yes. In addition, here is the carrot, think about your retirement and maintaining that extravagant lifestyle of yours. With this fat money transfer, all your worries will be swept away.”

The entire thing made Michael want to take a shower, to wash away that feeling of filth when he read through the files of a few individuals that were present in this very hall. The only consolation was that Max had all intentions to remove those rotten apples from the political stage, in the future. Most likely using The Truth Site he created for bringing exactly these sorts of people and their deeds to the light of public judgment. It was convoluted moral and ethical logic, but he understood that some things needed to be done out of necessity, and they never claimed to be paragons of righteousness in the first place.

The last nail was the public opinion, which Max so skillfully manipulated. The people of Earth were so riled up by the freebies that they were going to get, the whole deal ended up similar to shooting fish in a barrel. Even China had no choice but to accept, with so many of their people wanting to better their lives. Most of these world leaders were sent to the assembly with a clear message, ‘Bring home the bacon, or don’t bother returning at all.’ In the end—everyone loves freebies.

Michael was then led to an ornate table to the side of the speaker’s dais. They had already prepared a signing ceremony with a beautifully crafted contract; there were marked places for Michael’s signature, as a representative of the S.U., and for all members of the assembly. For the next hour, he had to sit there, smile when a representative of each country was called in to sign, sat beside Michael, and put his signature on the contract. An official photographer then took each individual’s picture to memorialize the moment. Michael wondered, given all these preparations, what would have happened if the deal fell through at the last moment.

In a few weeks, they planned to organize a grand ceremony, or a party if you will, where he would get to rub shoulders with all these people and their significant others. He dreaded that time, and wondered if he could send Jack or Ben, as a substitute; but knew that Elizabeth and Max would make him go to it personally.

There were still some wrinkles to iron out; like all the jobs that will be lost due to the new technologies. The Solarian Union was prepared to offer free training for new positions, for them to work in hundreds of conversion factories all over the world, which will be open soon. Everything in the world was designed to use conventional energy, and transferring would not be easy. The projection was that it would take at least ten years to make that transition. During that time, somewhat of a hybrid model would be used by utilizing systems that were already in operation. Companies that were working on electric vehicles climbed immediately on the bandwagon with great enthusiasm. The entire project would cost the S.U. a fortune and would have broken the bank if it weren’t for the abundance of metals and minerals in the asteroid belt that Max was mining, and which they would soon be selling.

Despite everything, not everyone was so happy about the deal, and naysayers were riled up. They didn’t want to give away a piece of land, even if most of them did not have the faintest clue where it was located. What is more, those protests happened all over the world, mostly mixed with religious messages saying how humanity should remain on Earth, where God placed them in the first place. Several groups were opposed to life-extension therapy, screaming how the planet was already overpopulated and that more people should die sooner, rather than later. The world was filled with wackos, chronically disagreeing with anything that had popular backing. A famous photo was taken during one of those protests; ten people walking around with twenty signs; they couldn’t gather more participants to carry them. They doubled up, so it was funny in a sad way.

The moment an okay sign was given, Max started deploying construction probes all over Antarctica—filled with nanites. He had sites for various projects already picked out in advance and was only waiting for the final vote. In the middle of the continent, a domed city would be built, as a central hub for all the S.U. activities on Earth. It would be like a giant skyscraper, miles in circumference. Similar to the new station, with many climate-controlled levels, except that the largest part would be under ice, right down to the bedrock below. From the surface, only the dome would be visible, but underneath will be enough space for every imaginable thing. At two miles of projected height, it had better be enough. It was the best solution Dr. Ross, and his think tank came up with, adjusted for Antarctica’s harsh weather.

One thing that needed to be done as soon as possible was a new immigrant-processing center in space. The problem was that more and more of their potential recruits were already influenced by the world’s security agencies. They must have noticed a pattern of disappearing individuals and thought to rig the game. It was insane to what lengths they would go to place spies in the S.U., and Max had already had enough. He tried to ask them nicely to stop, but it always fell on deaf ears. Even when he started to leak some of their closely guarded secrets to the press, as a warning, didn’t really help. It did lessen the pressure for a while; still, that kind of fanatical mindset wasn’t all too different from a terrorist one. They believed they were in the right, and nothing in the world was going to dissuade them from what they perceived as their duty. Sending two out of every ten recruits’ home was slowing down the process, so the decision was made for an expansion of their entire recruitment mission.

A large platform would be built in the Earth’s orbit, just a giant disk with a dome top. And the name was already chosen—Ellis platform. It will be the immigrant-processing center for the S.U., able to accommodate hundreds of applicants at the same time and as foolproof as Max and Ares could make it. From regular background checks to various scanners that would detect any concealed devices. Each applicant will have to go through a procedure, which was, in essence, a mind-reading session. He would sit in a booth while all his life signs would be read. Microexpressions, heart rate, pupillary dilation, even his brain will be constantly scanned by the equivalent of an MRI machine installed in the walls. Max guaranteed a 99% accuracy rate, and that was more than good enough for Michael. They needed to ensure the security of the S.U. since there were still many nations down here, which would gladly wipe them all out if that meant getting full access to all of their technology.

Finally, all his official duties were over, so he and his bodyguards boarded the transporter and went home.

***

Transporter 001

Destination: City-Ship Ascension

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Max asked from the holo-screen on the transporter’s canopy.

“You knew they were going to stretch this out as much as they could. My hand is cramped from all the handshaking, and my face hurts from all the polite smiling I had to do,” Michael grunted.

“Well man, you are the face of the Solarian Union, there are a few official responsibilities that come with that position,” the AI’s stoically said.

“Forget that, and start working on Jack so he could take over as an ambassador of the S.U., he’s way better at mingling with high brass anyway,” said Michael and tried to work the kinks out of his hand.

“Yeah, good luck with that. Jack never liked rubbing shoulders with the top brass,” Tyron said.

Michael closed his eyes and deeply sighed. “I know, but I need to find someone, most of those people are no better than the ones we fought against.”

The big man smirked and returned to the novel he was reading on his tablet.

Leaning on the seat beside Michael was the contract, which was essentially a deed to the entire continent of Antarctica. For a moment, he wished again that his grandfather and father were alive, so that he could show them this piece of paper, and brag about the biggest property deed their family ever managed to acquire.

“If I have anything else on the agenda today, cancel it; I need to rest,” he said to the AI, in a tired voice.

“No problem, I’ll rearrange —“

The AI suddenly stopped talking, his image on the holo-screen frozen in a moment.

“Max… what’s going on?” Michael asked, a bit apprehensively, for it seemed his transporter driver had suffered a stroke.

The AI looked at him, with a self-satisfying smirk plastered on his face.

“I found it—the stasis chamber module—I know where it is.”

Book 3 - Chapter 18

Spaceship Excalibur

Destination: Mars

Mars, a planet that for centuries has been the subject of humanity's dreams… and they were almost there. It felt surreal to be the first people to stand on its surface.

As soon as Max informed him about finding the location of the stasis chamber module, preparation for the Mars mission immediately started. Unfortunately, despite his desire, Michael could not just hop into the Excalibur and proceed to the red planet. Almost thirteen millennia of wind carrying dust had deposited substantial layers over the place where the chamber was located, so the construction drones, similar to the ones used in the Mariana Trench, needed to clear the area and dig through the ground so they could reach the facility’s entrance.

Apparently, the MI constructed a similar kind of structure as the one on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. No wonder, as both were made at the same time and had very similar programming and orders.

Not to mention that he could not take the trip alone, which was a fleeting thought brought by the excitement; Elizabeth and the team accompanied him. Ben simply showed up and explained that there was no chance in hell they would go to Mars without him. Even Ision was present, by using small repeater satellites, that the Excalibur released every once in a while, to enable him to be there in spirit since he lacked a corporeal body.

Michael looked through the canopy and saw the red-planet in its eternal glory. As its name implied, it was strikingly red, with the distinctive craters of countless meteorite impacts on its surface. Far less in number than those on the Earth’s moon, which had no atmosphere; still, a disturbing amount. Judging by their size, more than one could be considered E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event), if it had hit Earth instead of Mars.

Everyone was in their battle-suits, with attached rebreather units made specifically for a prolonged stay in space. Well, all except for Ben, who was wearing a bit bulkier standard spacesuit; a one-size-fits-all adjustable model that was made in large numbers for the regular citizens.

Complete silence ruled inside the Excalibur, all stood entranced, and in awe at the majestic sight in front of them. The facility was built inside Olympus Mons, the highest mountain on the entire planet. As a matter of fact, it was the highest in the entire Solar System. Sixteen miles (25 km) from the surface to the summit, three times the size of Mount Everest, and it stood there like a lone giant announcing its might to the entire universe.

The surface was getting closer as the Excaliburstarted traveling through the thin Martian atmosphere. The spaceship gently landed some twenty miles away from the mountain; it was Max’s idea so they could all see it and get a sense of perspective, while making the few first steps on the surface of the planet. Michael thought that twenty miles were not far enough; even here, the mountain dominated the entire landscape, making everything else look minuscule.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Excalibur has landed,” Max pompously announced through the spaceship speakers as the craft touched down. “The temperature is balmy -82 °F, (-63 °C), the air is rather thin with 0.6% of Earth's sea level pressure. And be advised that this planet’s gravity is only 38% relative to Earth, so watch your steps,”

Michael was the first one in the line to exit.

“Come on boss, you can do the honors and be the first man to step on Mars,” Al said with a smirk. “Who knows, maybe they will name a few high schools after you.”

Michael looked at the joker beside him. “I can easily throw you out first, so you can take the honor of being the first man on Mars that made that historical step with his ass,” he replied, smirking himself.

He went alone through the airlock and stood there when the outer door opened. This was it, he could see the outside with his own eyes, his heartbeat started racing, and the crazy grin was plastered on his face. He made that first step, and then another, then stepped back to look at it. It was the first footprint a human has ever made on a new planet; a fact that caused him to be blown away by a torrent of exhilarating emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Michael wondered if Neil Armstrong felt the same emotions when he walked on the Moon. He lived in space for some time now, but this was Mars, the setting of some of his favorite books. A small part of him expected to see Dejah Thoris or Mark Watney, strolling down the hill.

“Michael, I know you want to stare at the ground for a while and admire the beauty of your work. All the same, would you stop holding the line, and get a move on… if it’s not too much trouble.” Max transmitted through his implant.

Behind him, others were glued to the transparent ship’s canopy, smiling and looking at him like a bunch of chipmunks. Elizabeth, Alice, and Ben were clapping while Al was pointing at his wrist and mimicking for him to move it along.

Within a few minutes, everybody was standing outside, looking at the colossal mountain in front of them. It was humbling, this giant monument to nature’s might, made by the forces raging at the planet’s core. Or as Al described it poetically, “That’s one big ass volcano.”

“Why is it so red?” Al continued while pointing at the soil beneath their feet.

“Iron,” Max answered through their suits. “The red color is a result of iron rusting; rocks and soil are mainly composed of it with a few more elements mixed in, but red comes from iron oxide.”

“Maybe they should have named it that, it would be more fitting, planet Rust.” Al laughed.

“Al… shut up,” Tyron said while purposefully looking at the back of Al’s head.

Michael kneeled on one knee, and took a handful of the red sand in his hand, letting it run through his gloved fingers. The kid in him was on a mental sugar rush, jumping in excitement and yelling “I am on Mars!” He remembered when his grandfather first showed him the red planet. He bought Michael a used, but a very good telescope on one of his gold-selling trips. They had spent countless evenings in front of the cabin’s porch, looking at the heavens. The Mars he saw then was a small reddish circle, but his mind was blown away by the wonders above. A whole universe, stretching into infinity; so vast his mind could barely comprehend. In those times, the first spark of his love for space was ignited. He was here now, on the very planet that child dreamed of visiting.

After spending more than half an hour on this sightseeing tour, and watching Al fall on his ass a few times after he realized he could do cartwheels in lower gravity, they boarded Excalibur again and immediately took off towards their destination. Olympus Mons grew larger with each mile, a never-ending wall of rock in front of them; a stark opposite to the open space behind them.

A few minutes later, they were slowing down toward the site where excavations were being done. There was even a landing site with a distinctively marked letter H, which was additionally brightened by strong floodlights, as the site was in the shadow of the mountain. The site itself was an enormous ledge that could easily accommodate a couple of football fields, made by some geological quirk in the distant past. Close to the wall that rejoined the mountain was a large opening, indicating an ancient cave.

“It is inside?” Michael asked.

“Yes, this whole place was buried under a few feet of dust, and the entrance was completely sealed. There is a cavern inside with a similar configuration as the one we found at Ision’s AI-core site, and it also requires an exchange of security protocols,” Max said.

He walked in front of the others and entered inside, a dozen feet of native rock was suddenly interrupted by a shiny Resistaniumwall that blocked the path. The dimensions were much bigger than the one on the bottom of the ocean, with the weight of years and Martian stone adding an almost crushing atmosphere to the place.

Michael repeated the same procedure, approaching the metal wall and laying his hands on the surface. As if inserting a key inside the lock, something clicked and the immense metal doors slid upwards, while the whole cave began to tremble. Once again, there was a smaller chamber inside, with a more intricate door on the far end, blocking the way.

“I’m in contact with the MI inside, he needs final confirmation. Fortunately, there is no countdown to the ultimate doom in this place,” Max stated.

“Thank God for that. It will totally ruin my day if we all get blown up, after making this whole trip,” Michael said and pressed his hands on the second door. That feeling of immense data transfer almost overwhelmed his CEI, while thousands of security protocols were exchanged with the machine intelligence guarding this place. When all the challenges and responses satisfied the MI inside, the door slid to the side and revealed the content of the next cavern.

It was a huge space, illuminated by a glowing ceiling that turned on as Michael made the first step. Far larger than the one on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, this cavern had a more important item to protect. In the center of it was an elliptical stasis chamber module, occupying most of the space. It reflected light from the ceiling on its golden surface, surrounded from all sides by supporting structures that were built in those last weeks before the demons attacked. Large rocket boosters were lying on the ground, and showed the passage of time, with visible signs of corrosion and damage done on reentry.

“Is it in any danger, the stasis chamber itself?” Michael asked after seeing the decay.

“No, that golden surface is an energy stasis field, impervious to time. Everything else was built for a specific task of bringing it here,” Max replied.

“It looks like a gargantuan golden egg,” Al said behind him. “And how the hell did that MI manage to bring it in here? The entrance seems way too small.”

“The cave entrance was quite bigger, but after securing the stasis chamber to this location, the MI created everything around it. Then it sealed off the entrance by using indigenous materials.” Max answered again.

This place had an ethereal feel, reminiscent of the interior of an ancient cathedral. Except, this structure was not built to worship any deity, but with the sole purpose to preserve life, and to ensure that the living heritage of Atlantis would endure. Inside of it were children, frozen in time, waiting for their parents to arrive and wake them up from their multimillennial slumber.

“The atmosphere is breathable and the pressure is at Earth’s sea level. It’s quite safe to take off your helmets,” Max supplied new information.

Michael did that and realized that the temperature was around 80°F (26°C), he took his gloves and put them in the helmet.

“It worked.” Ision’s voice could be heard from the suit speakers. “All this time and I wasn’t entirely sure if it had worked. We made plans and hoped for the best, yet, in my darkest moments… I had doubts.” His voice was quivering, overcome with emotions.

“Leader Freeman, can you do something for me? Can you touch the stasis chamber module?” Ision asked in a humble voice.

“Of course.”

He walked across the artificial cavern’s flat metallic floor until he was standing in front of the stasis chamber module. He reached with his right hand and pressed it flat against the surface. It was a strange sensation because the surface itself was slick and unyielding; completely smooth, offering no friction and he couldn’t even discern the temperature, it was neither hot nor cold.

“Thank you. I’m now unable to do that myself, but I dreamed about it for so long. My son is inside; I placed him there with my own two hands. And now… he’s finally safe,” the ancient AI whispered.

“I’m getting the readings from the MI, and every system is optimal. The stasis chamber module is powered internally and it had enough power to sustain itself for one thousand more years before it was depleted and it would’ve shut down. It’s a good thing we came ‘just’ in time,” Max declared.

They stayed inside for a while, admiring the effort it took to protect the children of two species, but eventually boarded the Excaliburand set its direction toward the Ascension.

***

Spaceship Excalibur

Destination: City-Ship Ascension

The spaceship was leaving Mars, and they could see its size shrinking with distance.

“So, what’s the plan now? How are we going to move the stasis chamber module?” Michael asked.

“More construction drones need to be made on Mars, to expand the opening to its original size. Meanwhile, I need to make a few specialized transporters that will be used to carry it to the space station,” Max replied.

“And we can’t let them out immediately,” Ben said. “A lot of preparation needs to be made first to lessen the cultural impact on so many orphans. As far as they are concerned, a few minutes ago they were leaving their families and homes, so the emotional impact when they realize what happened will be tremendous.”

“What time-frame are you considering?” Michael asked.

“At least three months and even that is rushing things. Our people need to be prepared and educated in Atlantean culture. That goes double for the angel children; they will have not a single adult member of their race. It will take time to find the appropriate caregivers, to train them, and to finish a habitat in the station where they would live.” Ben answered.

Michael nodded, “Max, how soon do you think the Atlantis level can be finished?”

“Six months on the outside, but that is for the completely finished level. If the deadline is three, I will focus on one side of the city so it will be ready for occupation by the time we wake them up.” Max replied.

“Alright then, we need to start the ball rolling. Firstly, by telling our people the entire history of the angels and demons conflict; and then the whole story about Atlantis; I hope they will accept it as truth. Secondly, start the process of finding those suitable to take care of the orphans.” Michael said.

“What about the Earthers? You know that the story is going to eventually leak to them.” Elizabeth asked.

“Let’s hope that we can prolong that for a while. So Max, tighten our information security as much as you can. The moment they find out the truth, all hell is going to break loose.” Michael said, and tried to imagine the amount of crazy such revelation would create.

Taken as a whole, humans were not the most nonviolent race on the planet, and when religion got involved, all bets were off.

He would need to coordinate with Pope John, and hope the old man would have some ideas.

Book 3 - Chapter 19

The Outer Solar System

At the outer reaches of our Solar System, where the gravity of the Sun almost loses its inescapable pull, a bright light burst out of nowhere. A blazing conflagration of energies announced a change in the natural order of things. It lasted for a split second, but if someone was near that place, it would be enough for all receptors in their eyes to be burned out. The light show rapidly dispersed, and in its place, a new object appeared.

Captain1 looked at the digital representation of this new territory and clenched his fist in agitation. Just for one little mistake, he was downgraded into performing this humiliating mission, to command one measly scout ship when he should be at the helm of a destroyer, raining havoc on those that opposed their race. Life-is-battle, one of the prime rules he learned soon after his birth. He still remembered the day when he was taken out of his pen, after killing off his siblings; that was the way of demons, only the strongest were allowed to survive.

“Start scanning the system, let's see if there is anything here,” he commanded Astrogator2, one step below him in the ship’s hierarchy. Even their names were a numbered designation, recorded in a tattoo between the horns, a tattoo any scanner could read and display their entire life’s history.

The leader of the mission was always addressed with the hierarchical number after his rank, and it felt good to be so acknowledged. Although that was small comfort to him; before he translated to this system, he had a bright future in front of him. As a direct genetic descendant of the Ruler, he was destined for greatness. Right before he blundered and lost everything when he killed the son of one of his progenitor’s advisors. The weakling had it coming as he had said something offensive to him. His progenitor immediately lowered his overall designation in the hierarchy and was now in hundreds when before it was in double digits. He told him it was a way to teach him humility and respect for those above him; that was after he beat him to within an inch of his life.

This entire mission was an aberration. An ancient guard probe had translated to their star system, transmitting the coordinates of an unknown system, one not yet cataloged. After that, the probe exploded, caused by some unknown malfunction. Not that surprising as they were expendable pieces of equipment and prone to errors.

“Captain1, we have preliminary analysis,” Astrogator2 barked with too much excitement in his voice. In normal circumstances he would have killed the idiot for such blatant disrespect of his position, showing emotions in the line of duty, but these were not normal circumstances, and he only had two crewmembers. At least Wepons3 was a quiet, respectful demon.

“Report!” He barked, showing his teeth to the excited fool, hoping it would remind the idiot of his low place.

“There are a lot of radio transmissions coming from the 3rd planet of this solar system, but the amazing thing is that we detected Gravity-drive signatures, right in the asteroid field between the 4th and the 5th planet. The computer identified it as an ancient angel in origin.” Astrogator2 hurriedly voiced, still unable to contain his excitement.

Captain1's mouth opened in a sinister smile. It seemed he was the lucky one; this discovery would raise his status to unimaginable heights. It could wash away his transgression, placing him again in his progenitor’s good graces, as a prince of the demon race.

“Set a course toward the planet,” he commanded, forcing himself not to show a growing excitement in his voice.

“Sir, shall we send a message probe first, to inform the command?” Astrogator2 whined.

“No! We need more data; I will not be dishonored by sending a half-finished report.”

Not sending a message probe was bending the standard procedure, but it was a risk he was willing to take. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he would not let it slip out of his claws. He alone will be the one that is responsible for discovering what was only an old legend.

Angels were the first of their subjugated races; miserable slaves good only for menial work and as a food source. He watched once how they were selected for classification, de-winged after hatching, and then evaluated after reaching adulthood. Some went to slaughterhouses and others were given slave collars—it was a standard fate of lesser species.

However, there was a legend that during the angels’ subjugation process, one ship escaped into the unknown, making a blind jump. Those sent after them never returned, signifying their failure to find the escapees. A dream of many aspiring demons was to find them and finish a job of subjugation. It would seem that honor would be his.

He watched old records of the times; angels did not even have weapons, a weakling race, pitiful. Now he would conquer these runaways himself; the scout’s weapons would be sufficient for the task of subduing those without any armaments.

Closing his eyes, he was already basking in the glory. His sire’s advisor would be beneath him and would suffer before he died as his son had.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary Orbit

It was late in the evening and Michael was still in his office; looking at the real-time view outside of the City-ship, which was projected on the entire wall in front of him. The angles were just right for him to see part of the blue planet and the shining light of the approaching space station. By now, its speed was so reduced it was practically crawling, especially compared to the acceleration it had before coming to the halfway point and began its braking maneuver.

Inside that shiny speck of light were thousands of S.U. citizens, working tirelessly to complete the final stages of construction and groundwork needed so that a considerable percentage of people from the Ascensioncould move there, when the station finally reached its destination.

His head turned to the wall on his left, where the deed to Antarctica was proudly displayed; it still amazed him that this was real. The idea of owning an entire continent felt so surreal, something he still couldn’t quite grasp in his mind. Nonetheless, Max could, since even now, there were many construction sites on the South Pole, not that anyone could see them. At this preliminary stage, transporting construction materials to the sites was not cost-effective so the AI decided to take them from the ground. He sent construction probes to bore through the ice until they reached the bedrock, and there they will start the extraction process. The plan was to bore thin long mine shafts, to reach the detected ores and then refine them with construction nanites. Mining in that particular way would not have much impact on the environment… if one could call miles of ice above an environment.

Then, everything Max planned would be built from the ground up. By the time the constructions reach the surface, 90% of it would already be finished.

He stretched his back and turned off the monitor. It was late at night and Elizabeth was constantly telling him that he was doing no one a favor by exhausting himself every day. It’s a good thing his office was only a few minutes of leisurely walk away from their apartment.

The lights automatically turned off, as he closed the door behind himself.

***

Artificial intelligence processing speeds far exceed what the human brain is capable of. As a result, in a span of a few seconds, Max had analyzed a mountain of data sent to him from the Ascension’s monitoring MI, which was flagged as having a high priority. The data was in regard to the strange readings gravitational sensors detected. Consequently, that same data, once analyzed, sent shivers down his virtual spine.

If it were left to him, he would not yet have built the gravity detection devices to scan the space around the Solar System, as there were many projects of more immediate importance in his build queue. Ision urged him to do so, just for the ancient AI’s peace of mind. The schematics for them were pulled from the Knowledge Vault, and it only took a little time to build them and mount them on the Ascension’s outer hull. The only unnatural reading they had detected so far was the position of their mining operation in the asteroid belt; he personally thought the chances of discovering anything else were infinitesimally low.

Well, people say the chances for a meteorite from space to hit you are equally low, which is no comfort to someone who experienced the strange phenomenon.

The gravity detectors observed the translation event on the outer edges of the Solar System; the readings were almost instantaneous. A few scientists on the Ascension were still working on the theory of how that was possible. Max could not tell them, except that detectors worked as advertised.

Logs from the last days of what happened in the angel’s star system were extensive, so within a few seconds he got a 99% match of that translation signature, and a few more to confirm the point of origin.

There was a demon ship heading for the inner Solar System, a thing he hoped never to see; they were not ready—not by a mile.

***

“Michael, wake up!”Max sent to his CEI. That prompted an immediate transition between Michael being asleep to fully awake. Long years of military conditioning made him react in such a way whenever he heard a wake-up call delivered in such an urgent tone of voice.

“What happened?” He asked in the same way, not wanting to disturb Elizabeth, who was peacefully sleeping by his side.

“A translation event from the angels’ Hemina system has been detected. All readings indicate that it is a demon ship.” Max stated.

To Michael, those words felt as if a knife was stabbed in his gut. Images of Gaina’s bombardment and destruction of Atlantis went through his mind. One of the things they were debating lately was the protection of the S.U. from outside threats. And that didn’t mean humans from Earth, but the potential alien species that were out there. Facts of angels and demons existence confirmed that humans were not alone in the universe. Laws of probability advised that the chances were 50-50 that any other species they encounter could be hostile.

It was too soon, he thought they would have a long time before such an encounter. It seemed the ancient enemies of humanity have once again found them. They were in no way ready to fight off an invasion.

“How the hell is this happening now?” He sent while getting out of bed.

“I can’t say for sure, but they had to have some sort of detection system left behind, which must have been activated by our recent activities. Of all the scenarios I theorized, that one seems most likely.”

“How long before they arrive here?”

“I’m still analyzing the data, but by that ship’s trajectory and current speed, I extrapolate it will arrive in ten days.”

Michael considered all options while putting his clothes on. As they stood, the Earth was defenseless and any sort of attack from space would be devastating.

“Gather the team, Ben, Jack, and anyone else that could help; tell them we have an emergency meeting in an hour.”

Michael looked at the woman he loved, and a serene look on her face. He wished to let her sleep, to postpone the horrific reality they will soon have to face; but he knew how angry she would get if he did that.

“Elizabeth…” he softly said and placed his hand on her shoulder.

***

Not before long, he was sitting in a full conference room, looking at the hologram of the Solar System’s graphical representation and the projected trajectory of the approaching craft.

“Can we get some pictures of it?” Al asked.

“Not yet. The translation happened on the edge of Heliopause and it will be many hours before the light of it hits Earth. I have several telescopes tasked to look in the right direction, so we could see what we are dealing with. With the data from gravitational sensors, it’s safe to say it is only one ship that is heading towards us.” The AI replied.

“Do we know the size of it, at least?” Jack asked.

“Not precisely, but it’s not one of those big two-mile-long behemoths we saw on the Angel’s planet attack; the gravitational footprint is much smaller. I assume it is some kind of a scout ship, going on a reconnaissance mission. For all that, his behavior is quite illogical; why head straight to the inner system when you do not know your opposition? It seems reckless to an unbelievable extent.” Max summarized.

“It doesn’t really matter why,” Michael said. “The only important thing is what we are going to do about it. One thing is clear, if this is a scout, there are many more of them from where he came from. Therefore, we cannot allow him to exit the system with any information about us. In a way, we were lucky; if the ships that conquered the Hemina system appeared instead of this one, there would have been nothing we could do. This way—we at least have a chance.”

“We don’t know anything about it or the armament it carries,” Jack cautioned, looking at a tiny dot on a hologram. “All our information about their capabilities comes from the recordings the colony ship made as it was running away. We know they use kinetic weapons for planetary bombardments and rockets for space engagements. But that data is almost thirteen thousand years old, who knows the level of their advancements now? We need more information to make any sort of strategic decision.”

Michael took a deep breath. “Jack, it still doesn’t make any difference; we have minimal options. Whatever the cost, that ship needs to be stopped from getting close to Earth or leaving the Solar System. The Earth is like a radio beacon, with all emissions it sends into space. The moment they arrived, the jig was up and they had already collected enough information about us to be a serious threat. The fact that it is moving toward us is the only lucky break we have. If it turned around immediately after scanning the system, we would have been in more trouble.”

“Maybe they come in peace,” Elizabeth said, and then continued after receiving incredulous stares. “I’m not saying they are, but there is a chance of it. Remember the length of time since they attacked the angels. Societies and even the entire species change immensely over millennia; just look how far we have gone since then. I’m not proposing we welcome them with the marching band and welcoming signs, but to try and see the entire situation from a different perspective.”

That stopped everyone in their tracks, realizing they have all started from a base of grim preconceptions, without considering other possibilities.

“Elizabeth may be right,” Ben said. “It is not completely unprecedented that a hostile species can change their behavior. The angels themselves did something similar. The nuclear war they had, almost destroyed their entire race before they took the path of peace.”

Michael slowly nodded. “You both have a point, we will give them the benefit of the doubt, but will at the same time do everything possible to stop them if they are up to no good. My Gramps often quoted Roosevelt and what he used to say—“Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

“So… are we going to intercept it?” Jack asked, rubbing his chin.

“Yes,” Michael answered. “As far away from Earth or the Ascension as possible. We are not going to attack them first and will do what Mr. Lennon advised and ‘give peace a chance’. On the other hand, George Washington had a point when he said that ‘To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace’.

“My plan is to head out as soon as we can, and see what we are dealing with.”

Elizabeth placed her hand on his. “You are the leader of the Solarian Union, you cannot risk—” she started to say before he interrupted her, looking into her eyes. “I need to go, exactly because of that. I swore to protect the people and the best way I can do that is at the tip of the spear. I am sorry Liz, but it is something I feel strongly about, it is the way I am. In fact, I considered a way to leave Max behind as he is one of the greatest assets we have; unfortunately, he strongly objected.”

“Damn right I did,”Max, sitting on his other side, said. “Once more into the breach, and all that,” Max boastfully exclaimed, raising a fist in the air and showing a menacing grin.

“So, what’s the plan?” Al asked.

Michael face showed a fierce determination as he faced the people seated at the table. “We start preparations immediately. Tyron, Pete, Al, and I will be part of the welcoming committee. We will take the Excalibur, as many Hammers as can be mounted, and a dozen transporters slaved to Max’s control. Then, we will go and greet our unannounced guests.”

Book 3 - Chapter 20

Spaceship Excalibur

Destination: Toward the Outer Solar System

Michael was sitting in the Excalibur’s pilot’s chair, looking at the black space in front of him and thinking of those last hours before they went to greet the demons. No matter how time-constrained they were, a few essential preparations were needed for them to even up the odds in the coming encounter.

They first had to take as many Hammers from the Earth’s orbit and bring them to the Ascension. Which in turn had to be secured on external mounts on a dozen transporters so they could be launched when the command was given. The unknown was if they would suffice in case if things took a turn for the worse, especially with Hammers being purely kinetic weapons. Efficient at transferring gained kinetic energy to the object they hit with enough acceleration, still, a far cry from the proper missiles. Michael really hoped that they were not bringing a knife to a gunfight.

Exactly at the predicted time, all the telescopes picked up the images of the translation event and the ship that had arrived at the outskirts of the Solar System. The images were a bit grainy, yet clearly showed a craft very similar to the one seen in the recordings from the Hemina system. As Max’s sensors detected, it was one ship, and thankfully, a lot smaller than those two-mile-long behemoths that had bombarded Gaina. Still, it was ten times bigger than the Excalibur and several shapes on its red hull indicated weapons placements; something that the Excalibur lacked.

Each transporter had two Hammers attached to its hull, the most they could scrounge up on such short notice. Out of those, twenty were standard, and four were something Max modified at the last minute. They knew demons could detect the Gravity-drives, and all Hammers were using them for their propulsion; but those modified four had solid-fuel rockets attached to their sides, and camouflage shrouds, which should make them harder to detect. It was a crude implementation of old and new technologies that should give them an upper hand. It would be a bummer if they turned out to be paper dragons.

“So boss, do you think they came carrying an olive branch in their hands?” Pete asked as he sat in one of the additional chairs installed on the bridge, just before the takeoff.

“Only if they plan to bludgeon our heads with it. With all the information Max discovered about the origin of their species, I do not see them repressing those violent urges in a million years, let alone thirteen thousand. I have a feeling that we will have to slug this one out,” he replied.

“And what are our odds?” His friend quietly asked.

“Not so bad, considering they caught us with our pants down. One thing is for sure, that ship will be stopped… one way or the other.”

His thoughts took a dark turn for a while, as he was ready to do anything to ensure the last thing he said to Pete. He remembered the goodbyes before they boarded the ship and Alice’s anger at being excluded from this mission. There was a good reason behind that decision, even if only those aboard the Excalibur knew it, and agreed to it.

At first, he planned to go at it alone, but the guys saw right through him. The transporters were in essence weapons delivery systems, and a distraction. In fact, the Excalibur could have made the trip much faster than they could, but in that case, they would be at a disadvantage. There was strength in numbers, and they did look a bit more intimidating flying in a group. More importantly, all the transporters were in front of the Excalibur, hiding it from view and detection.

They would try to use the Hammers, and he hoped they would be successful. However, if that plan failed, he was intending to use the camouflage effect of the ship and repeat the tactics that the angel colony ship’s captain Mikell used in the ancient past. If they were left with no other option, the Excalibur would ram the demon ship, and with a bit of luck—destroy it. Max gave a 50% chance of surviving such an encounter. He couldn’t say that to Elizabeth and the others, they could do nothing about it. Besides, it was just a possibility, but one that made him cautious as they approached the rendezvous point, knowing they may never return home.

Still, they had three days of flight before trajectories of the two ships connected, and one cannot dwell on negatives, all of the time. They passed the time in a long-honored military tradition known as hurry up and wait. They even organized a card-playing tournament, with some high stakes; from armor polishing to food preparation, and Tyron’s favorite—hair removal. Since he didn’t have any on his head, he put his chest hair in the pot, and boredom was such that nobody complained about it. Well, Al complained when he lost and had to be completely shaved. This was funny as he was quite tanned, and without any hair to cover up his scalp, he looked like he was wearing a white helmet.

Days passed, and before long, they were in proximity to the alien ship so communications could be established. In the next few hours, the fate of one of the ships would be decided. Their approaching speed was carefully calculated so there was no chance for the arriving spacecraft to turn back and escape. If such a situation occurred, the Excalibur would leave the other transporters and chase it.

“Is everything ready?” Michael asked, adjusting his battle-suit helmet.

“Yes, all communication will be routed through the leading transporter, and the others are strategically positioned to offer us some cover. It would be hard for them to see us, even if they can somehow detect us through our camouflage,” Max answered.

“Okay, call them.”

***

Demon Scout Ship

Captain1 was observing the approaching crafts for quite some time, detecting their Gravity-drives from the moment they started their flight from a station close to the planet.

They were small and strange-looking, all of them could dock within his scout ship, and there would be room to spare. He did not understand what the purpose of their arrival was and did not see them as a threat. Were these angels so distanced from their history that they forgot what happened to their world? The tactics they showed so far resembled some of the civilizations demons had conquered. First, they send emissaries offering peace, then they plead for the life of their people; futile attempts of weaklings, of course.

This universe favored the strong. Those who could not establish their dominance were created to serve or become food, and his race has never met challengers stronger than themselves. Some managed to offer a pathetic initial resistance, but in the end, all submitted to the demons’ will. Well… all but one. But they were never openly discussed.

There were a few anomalies in this system, mainly a big spherical station that was approaching the third planet. He smiled when the ship’s sensors first detected it, and was glad that the descendants of escaped angels were so industrious. He would claim the station for himself; an appropriate battle souvenir for someone of his future standing.

“Captain1, they are hailing us on an old angel frequency, what is your command?” Astrogator2 questioned.

“Open a channel, there is no reason why I shouldn't have some fun; the fear in their eyes will bring me joy.”

A screen before him turned on and the face of a lowly angel appeared. He found this image strange; the only time he saw grown angels with their wings intact was in the old recordings.

“I am Captain1, here to claim this system to the glory of the demon race.”

That was the first thing he said, establishing dominance from the start was always preferable. He had no doubt they would understand him, the scout’s computers had translation matrices with stored angel language.

“Pleased to meet you, Captain1, but you must be mistaken, this system has been already occupied, maybe you could try the next one, I hear the weather is much nicer there.” The angel responded in a fluent demonic language.

“How is that you speak my language?”

For the first time, he felt a small apprehension; this was very strange.

“Ah… you know, we like to learn, some of your people visited us before, and we exchanged ideas, some native arts, and such. Would you like us to meet in person, it is a custom of my race to share a meal with new visitors; it brings us all closer together.” The angel was talking nonsense and smiling, not an expression he had ever seen on the faces of the slaves.

“We are heading to your world, to set the terms of your annexation. There is no point in continuing this conversation.” He cut the feed and looked at the approaching ships. Something didn't seem right, his instincts were telling him he was facing an enemy, but his eyes only saw a low member of the slave race. Still, he didn’t survive this long by disregarding those same instincts.

“Destroy those ships,” he gave the order to the Wepons3.

In the next few seconds, he saw twelve missile trails going much faster than his ship, on a direct intercept course with the small vessels. In his mind, the approaching ships were already destroyed; in any case, he had many other pleasant things to think about. There was an entire planet of angels waiting for him, to establish his dominance. After a show of force with a few cities destroyed from orbit, they would surrender, and he would return to his progenitor as a hero and a conqueror.

***

Spaceship Excalibur

“Well… that didn’t work, and Max even made an effort to CGI a familiar angel image, to put him at ease,” Michael said.

“Yep, not exactly a meet-and-greet kind of fellow,” Al quipped.

On the holo-screen that showed the overall tactical position of the ships, several dots of light detached from the demon ship and rushed toward their location.

“Talk to me, Max.”

“He just fired twelve missiles at us, I assume for the twelve transporters. Their flight time will be a little more than three minutes, and it seems they cannot detect us under the camouflage. At least that worked, I won’t even comment on your diplomacy skills,” Max replied with a smirk.

“Right then, launch all the Hammers, and see if your transporters can evade those missiles. If he is not able to see us, let’s approach him from a different angle.”

The Excalibur picked up speed, utilizing its own add-on solid-fuel boosters. The distance between it and transporters, which were still following a straight line, increased exponentially. The expanse those approaching missiles had to cross was immense, but in the medium of space, it was all about the acceleration, and they had plenty of it. In the last few seconds before contact, transporters veered off course in all directions, but those missiles followed them and detonated when they made contact with their targets.

Michael sighed, “We can at least be glad that they were empty,” he said, watching as twelve transporters disappeared from the holographic map. “Let’s see what our Hammers will do.”

The Hammers were accelerating from the moment they were launched, closing in on the approaching vessel. Michael held his breath, knowing that the next few seconds would determine their fate. As the countdown reached ten seconds before they were to reach the demon ship, bright beams of light erupted from it and twenty Hammers disappeared in the cloud of plasma.

Their four camouflaged brothers were shadowing the rest. Flying so close, their drives emissions were masked. As the twenty were destroyed, the Gravity-drives in the remaining four turned off, and the solid-fuel rockets took over the job of accelerating them towards the target.

There is no friction in space that would slow them down, and they already carried combined speed from the transporters and their own Gravity-drives. Any additional acceleration was the icing on the cake. Max’s theory was that if the demon ship only looked for Gravity-drives, there would be a good chance to slip through.

Michael, Tyron, Pete, and Al watched breathlessly as the distance between them and the demon ship diminished, until four Hammers reached their target and hit it simultaneously. It was a tremendous transfer of kinetic potential from one object to another, yet what Michael expected to happen… didn’t. There were no explosions, or obliteration of the demon vessel, instead, its speed decreased considerably as it lost its momentum. And it was now flying on a completely different trajectory, deflected from its original course, and spinning uncontrollably.

“How in the Hell is that thing still in one piece?” Michael asked in the ensuing silence.

“I detected a strong energy shield in the last millisecond,” Max replied. “It, combined with their armor, managed to absorb the Hammers strikes. Although, not completely, but what that did to the ship’s crew… I have no idea. No human being could survive so many g-forces.”

“What now boss?” Al asked.

Michael pointed at the enemy ship. “We can’t simply leave it where it is; if they are alive, it is still a viable threat. We have no more Hammers to hit it with so we have only one option—to board it.” Michael answered and looked at the others. “If they are alive, remember that we need prisoners, so load the tranquilizers.”

As they were preparing their equipment, Al asked. “Did anyone remember to bring some holy water… just in case?”

They all stopped what they were doing, and looked at Al for a moment before bursting out in laughter. It was quite a surreal situation since they were getting prepared to board a spaceship that was, by some religious beliefs, operated by denizens of hell.

“No, Al,” Michael said, trying to regain his composure. “But I did meet the Pope, so consider your weapons blessed by association.”

All their weapons carried two different loads. The first one was made of standard flechette rounds that they were used to using. But the other was filled with special tranquilizers Max had prepared by using DNA from the ancient demon skeletons as a starting point. He created a few compounds that should theoretically work on the demon’s physiology. Nobody was sure if and how effective they would be as they didn’t have a living subject to test them on. Still, it was better than nothing. That is why the second load would be used to pacify the enemy if the tranquilizers did not work — pacify them for good.

It took twenty more minutes for the Excalibur to approach the erratically moving demon ship. Matching velocity and spin of two vessels in space was hard enough under ordinary circumstances, but doing that while one craft was spinning in an uncontrolled manner is almost impossible. At least, it would be for a human. When an AI was added into that equation, things became more manageable. Nonetheless, manageable is a long way from being easy, and it took Max quite some time to do it. Seeing all the stars spin in various directions was doing a number on Michael’s stomach until he set his helmet to project only the graphical representation of the ships and blur out the background.

Up close, he was able to see the damage Hammers had done to the demon ship. Much less than he hoped for, but still quite noticeable. It seemed as if the hull was hit by four giant cannonballs that left deep hemispherical indentations and warped the entire ship somewhat. It was a glaring example of how advanced demon technology was compared to what the S.U. currently used. If the Excalibur was hit with such force, there wouldn’t be enough left over to indicate it was once a ship. This craft took an unimaginable pounding and still stayed in one piece.

“Are you ready?” Michael asked as they all exited the Excalibur, and stood holding on to its hull.

“As ready as will ever be… to face the demons that is,” Tyron answered while Pete used that time to cross himself again.

The transition from one craft to the other was relatively easy; they simply jumped and clamped their magnetic boots to its surface. Max assured them if one of them missed the target, he would easily pick him up, and make a video to show everybody on the Ascension. Tyron had the hardest task because he was carrying a breaching device on his back. It was a circle that would adhere to the outer skin of the enemy ship, and use construction nanites to make a hole. They weren’t going to enter through the airlock, even if they could identify one. The Can-opener, as Al named it, was something Max put together before they left. The probabilities he assigned to this particular situation were in the high 40s, and he justified it by quoting Franz Kafka who said that it’s “Better to have, and not need, than to need, and not have.”

It took about ten minutes for the nanites to eat through the red hull, and then with an explosion, a circular piece of the ship’s skin was blown into space, followed by a long jet of condensing atmosphere. There was no way for them to contain it beneath the hole, and they hoped the demons were in some other compartment from the one they were breaking into. Besides, it seemed logical that the enemy would be in some kinds of spacesuits, considering that they were going into a battle.

The outgassing did not last long, so as soon as all gases escaped, Michael looked at his team and said, “Let’s rock ‘n’ roll,” then jumped through the hole.

After a quick fall, he landed on his feet, absorbing considerable impact as the artificial gravity on the ship was still on. His weapon was pointed in front of him, scanning for a potential enemy. A moment later, by the vibration of the floor, he sensed Tyron landing behind him, covering the other direction. Pete and Al did the same, and they all stood there in silence, with their weapons ready to fire.

The inside was far darker than they were used to, with red lights illuminating wide corridors. The quality of light reminded Michael of the photographer’s darkroom.

Entering hostile environments was an old game to them, with practiced moves, each one observed his designated sector for any sightings of the enemy.

“It looks like nobody’s home,” Al sent over the comms.

“Let’s move toward the front; that is the most logical location where the ship’s bridge should be,” Michael said.

Moving slowly, with Pete guarding their backs, they passed through several rooms, checking each one for any signs of life. There were no separation hatches to ensure the pressure integrity if the hull was breached, and the entrance they made seemed to have depressurized the entire ship. It was all empty, just plain rectangular spaces with nothing within them. Two rooms had some sort of pallets on the ground, similar to Japanese tatamis, but no personal artifacts to confirm they were occupied.

“This is all seriously creepy, no stuff, clothes or knick-knacks… it’s as if robots are living here,” said Pete, after they cleared another room.

“Maybe they are minimalists or use these rooms for some other purpose. Let’s move ahead,” Michael replied.

A few minutes later, they entered what could only be the ship’s kitchen. There was a big mess inside with strange pots and pans lying on the floor, either broken or seriously banged up. The appliances were at least something they could vaguely identify; a big hotplate and what can only be an oversized oven. Then, Al opened a metal insulated door and stepped back.

“Holy mother of God—” he whispered.

Michael approached and looked inside; a part of him wished he didn’t. It was the ship’s freezer, and it was filled with horrors. There were body parts in neatly arranged rows, and by the look and golden color of the arms, he recognized they belonged to the angel race. There was no mistaking those delicate and elongated fingers. Other parts were a mystery to him, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out. In theory, he understood that if an alien opened a human fridge and saw a few animal parts stored there, he would be similarly grossed out. Even so, these were body parts of sapient beings, not slices of ham, or German sausages. Moreover, his mind could never forget the video of that demon gnawing on the angel child’s arm, during the attack on Gaina.

“Let’s go, we need to find the bridge,” Michael said, and pulled shocked Al along.

From there, the team continued down the red corridor until they arrived at the end of it. The corridor terminated with a half-open door that let in an additional beam of light. Michael signaled for the others to be prepared and then carefully peeked inside.

It was the bridge all right, with view screens on one end that were mostly broken, and a few strange consoles; their screens scrolling with unrecognizable symbols. A few wires were hanging from the ceiling, some of them still sparking; it seemed this area took the brunt of the damage. What instantly drew his attention were three visible demon bodies inside, although they seemed a little worse for wear.

One was on the floor, a few feet away from the door. His neck obviously broken; unless demons shared some ancestry with owls. On top of that, most of his skull was caved in, which indicated he was beyond any help. Another body was lying on the opposite side of the bridge, with his limbs so unnaturally bent and pointing in various directions, he could easily get the job in any circus as a contortionist. Granted, a big piece of a broken console, sticking out of his back, didn’t do him any favors. His all-black eyes were disturbingly looking in Michael’s direction… unblinking.

The third body was still sitting in the chair, with a few safety straps firmly securing it. The demon was motionless, and Michael assumed that this one had died from the decompression when they breached the hull, even if he somehow managed to survive their Hammers.

“I’m going in,” Michael said and turned to the side so he could squeeze through the noticeably crooked and jammed doors. He took a few steps, looking left and right, still on the lookout, just in case some demon managed to get into their version of a spacesuit. He quickly observed that there were no other entrances to the bridge, so he relaxed. The body in the chair intrigued him so he slowly approached it; cautiously, as one would a supposedly dead snake. He was a few feet away from the body when the alien suddenly opened his eyes.

“Crap.” He involuntarily said.

In the split-second, Michael was able to see that the demon was wearing a transparent oxygen mask over his mouth and that he was one big monster. Which was confirmed a moment later, when the same monster jumped on him. He instinctively squeezed the trigger of his weapon, but the demon was too fast and managed to knock it out of his hand with one swipe of the clawed hand.

In the next instant, he had at least five hundred pounds of fury in his face, and he barely had the time to grab the wrists of those clawed hands, before they ripped him to shreds. The momentum of the demon carried them to the floor, with Michael acting as a cushion. He felt his reinforced ribs crack with strain, accompanied by a very disturbing sound. The pain was excruciating and he saw the points of light before his eyes, yet, to give into it and release the hands he was holding would be fatal. Michael was only glad that his helmet and the oxygen mask on the demon’s face prevented it from using those razor-sharp teeth. With all the strength he could muster, he headbutted his attacker… with no effect whatsoever. On the other hand, Tyron’s charge did; it carried the demon off Michael and he was finally able to take a painful breath.

That overwhelming pain suddenly stopped, and he felt an almost euphoric relief.

“I am blocking your pain receptors, be careful, you have two broken ribs,” Max said to him.

Standing up was far more difficult than usual, and he could see Al and Pete aiming their guns at their enemy, who was occupied by Tyron.

“Non-lethal shots only, we need a prisoner,” Michael managed to croak.

They both switched their selectors and fired a few tranquilizer darts, careful not to hit Tyron. Despite their perfect aim and the fact that those shots hit the mark, it did not seem to have any effect. Meanwhile, Tyron was fighting the alien, big tears in his battle-suit from the sharp demon’s claws were a testimony to that struggle. Somehow, he managed to pin it to the ground, sitting on his back and holding him by the horns. The entire battle was like looking at two titans, fighting for primacy. Pete and Al jumped on him too, putting more weight on the struggling demon.

“Yahoo! Ride ‘em cowboy!” Al shouted while lying across the demon’s legs.

“Remind me to slap him later!” Tyron shouted, barely managing to stay on top of the enraged alien.

Michael aimed his weapon and emptied almost the entire clip of tranquilizers at any exposed place he could see on the demon’s skin.

“The tranqs are not working!” he shouted, “hold him in place!”

It was easier said than done, since Tyron, Pete, and Al had a really hard time keeping the big demon subdued. Pound for pound, with Max’s upgrades, they were the strongest humans on Earth, and the beast was almost a match for the three of them. What it could do to any ordinary person was something Michael did not even want to contemplate.

He took out a roll of the special duct tape from his kit and started tying the demon’s legs together. This was not ordinary duct tape, but one that Max, with the help of a few scientists, created. Made out of the same fibers that were making their muscles stronger, it had unbelievable high tensile strength, combined with an adhesive similar to the super-glue that needed a special dissolver to remove. In the end, it took three entire rolls of tape to fully immobilize the alien, and it was so insanely strong he could see the tape cracking in a few places before the creature gave up the struggle.

“This thing is a beast,” Tyron said, still breathing heavily. The tears on his battle-suit were self-sealing and the man was perceptibly glad those claws did not reach his skin as Max advised them that being exposed to vacuum was no fun.

“How is it that he isn’t freezing to death, or reacting to vacuum? All he has on is that small mask,” Pete asked.

“I cannot say for certain, without a thorough examination, but it would seem the demon’s very skin acts as a pressure suit. They are an artificial race, after all. At least now we have two corpses and one live prisoner to analyze,” Max responded.

“We need to check the rest of the ship,” Michael wheezed. “If one managed to survive, there could be more live ones on board.”

“We’ll do that,” said Al. “You don’t look so good and Tyron’s battle-suit is barely holding together. Come on, Pete; let us go through this rat-hole.”

Michael and Tyron were left on the ship’s bridge, with the taped demon looking at them with pure hate in his eyes.

“How are the ribs?” Tyron asked him.

“I’ll live… Max said they are fixated; at least I feel no pain.”

“Good, just so you know, the next time you are the one who will have the honor of jumping on one of these things. It kicks harder than a wild bronco,” Tyron said, still sitting on the demon, and giving it occasional kicks when it moved too much.

It took almost ten minutes for Al and Pete to return.

“There is no one else on the ship, these three were apparently the entire crew,” Al reported.

“Okay, let’s take what intel we can, and return to the Excalibur,” Michael replied.

Under Max’s supervision, the main computer was identified under one of the consoles, so they removed it with all its memory banks. They were handled with the utmost care; for them and the future of the human race, they were worth more than all precious metals on Earth.

After stuffing several bags with everything that wasn’t bolted down, they transferred it all to the Excalibur. That included their rebellious prisoner, who highly objected to his relocation. Bringing him was not an easy task, and Al shot him more than twenty additional times with tranquilizers. It was enough to knock out a herd of elephants, yet all it did to their prisoner was to make it a bit docile, but still awake.

Before they left the demon ship, Pete used a piece of magnetic tarp to cover the hole they made on the ship’s hull. The plan was that as soon as they were back home, Max would return with the Excalibur to tow the ship back to the space station, so it could be studied.

The Excalibur stopped its synchronization with the gyrating alien spacecraft and started its trip toward the Ascension. Carrying within an angry alien and four men filled with a sense of achievement.

Book 3 - Chapter 21

City-Ship Ascension

Geostationary orbit

Many different things were going through Michael's head as he was walking to the next meeting. Two days ago, they returned from their rendezvous with the demon ship, and he was still trying to sort his thoughts and feelings from the terrible omens that encounter represented.

The trip back was uneventful and thankfully very short by using the Excalibur’s full speed. The alien spent it lying on the floor and screaming obscenities at them after they removed the oxygen mask from his face. Max was translating what the demon was saying, and there were no two words put together without one of them being a threat. Finally, Al used the last of their duct tape to shut him up, to everyone’s relief.

Interestingly enough, their unwilling passenger’s body odor was extremely unpleasant and potent. The best way it could be described would be a mix of ammonia, sulfur, and the smell of a wet dog. Since there was no way to filter it out, despite Max’s best attempts to purify the air in such cramped space, Michael and the others spent the trip home, sealed in their battle-suits—with their helmets on. Al suggested tying the demon outside the ship, as his father and he did on their old truck, with the deer they hunted. It was reluctantly rejected as it would undermine all the trouble they went through to get a live prisoner, only to show up home with a giant bug squashed on their windshield.

Pete glued on a wooden crucifix between their captive’s horns, to be on the safe side. His grandfather was a preacher and some of his bedtime stories involved demons, so he wasn’t taking any chances. It did look a bit hilarious, the way they managed to secure the alien. It was wrapped from head to toe in duct tape, with only his eyes and nose showing. The crucifix was prominent between the horns, and their sharp tips were safety-proofed by two bouncy balls, of all things.

Michael needed some time in the AutoDoc to thoroughly repair his broken ribs, which his internal nanites head already realigned. Max enabled his pain receptors, and he was in considerable discomfort until all ailments were mended.

As they were coming closer to the space station, Michael looked at their prisoner and couldn’t help but wonder who would create such an abominable race. The horns were long, curved, and sharp; very functional and deadly. The wings were leathery as a bat would have and the texture of the skin was something one would expect on a crocodile. All colored deep red, except completely black eyes.

The duct tape on his mouth stayed there for the rest of the trip; there was zero chance they would get any useful information while the creature was in its current predicament. That will come in time when they decide on the adequate procedures on how to deal with it. For now, Michael was just happy all of them were returning alive, if a little worse for wear.

More importantly, they had more information about this enemy than Ision and the angels in Atlantis ever had. He had no illusions about the future; sooner or later their two species would collide, or lock horns so to speak. Every scrap of information that would help them prepare for that eventuality was truly invaluable. In his soul, he could sense the winds of war coming, and his responsibility was to protect the people of Earth and the S.U. and to defend them from all aggressors. Losing would bring a version of the future he did not want to think about.

The first thing they did upon arriving at the new station, was to secure the prisoner in his cell, constructed on one of the empty levels. Build to insane specification, so that the creature would need to be stronger than Superman, with lasers blasting from its eyes, to get out. Not that it did not try; Michael watched on the security video how the demon was hitting his cell walls, leaving impressive dents. He was like one of those super-aggressive rats’ scientists studied, so full of rage that urged him to hit something, even if it was a metal wall.

A few days after they returned, the Excaliburtowed back the scout ship close to the station and placed it in a holding pattern. With one transporter attached to its hull to provide the necessary changes in its orbiting trajectory. Max had already performed a preliminary investigation of it, and as soon as they briefed the larger population, many scientists would dismantle it to pieces and would try to discover all of its secrets. It will not be brought inside until they could determine that nothing could explode if handled incorrectly.

The meeting about to start was organized by Max, and it was a briefing about the things discovered so far. By a few of his vague comments, it seemed they had hit the mother lode. Those memory banks of the ship’s computer were filled with years of automatically backed-up data; extremely valuable information that would shed more light on the enemy. The tight-knit group of scientists, which were already read in the alien secrets, was summoned to the Ascension for this meeting.

***

“Now that we are all here, let’s start with the basics,” Max’s hologram announced as Michael entered the conference room. The place was packed, with the extended core group, and half a dozen scientists that were leading various projects involving their recent guest.

Max was standing in front of the holo-screen that showed the images of the ship, the demon, and the representation of the Solar System.

“From what we were able to discover so far, and retrieving an intact computer and its memory banks were mainly responsible for it, we now know that this was indeed a scout ship. It was checking coordinates that a guardian probe transmitted before it malfunctioned and self-destructed. It seems that it was left on the outskirts of our solar system 12900 years ago, by the very ship that destroyed Atlantis. When I sent construction probes to the asteroid belt, it detected their Gravity-drives and made a translation to the Hemina system, as it was programmed to do.” Max said.

“Is there a new probe there now? If that is their procedure, the scout ship captain may have done the same,” Ben asked.

“No, and I double-checked to be sure. The scout ship captain decided to disregard the procedure and go to the inner system alone, without any backup or informing his superiors of what he had found. He was simply too overconfident in his superiority, so he bent the rules he was supposed to follow. In his mind, we were not a threat to them, or to be precise, the angels he supposed were populating the system. You see, the escape of Mikell’s colony ship became a legend to them, so he was drunk on the possibility to be the one who would finish the conquest of the Angel race.”

“But if they sent that ship after the angels that escaped, why more of them didn’t follow?” Jack asked, scratching his chin.

“Oh yes, I did find some mention of that in their historical data. At the time, they sent dozens of ships to chase after Mikell. The one which arrived in our Solar System was simply lucky. None of them ever returned; the failure of that mission meant execution.”

“That doesn’t make any sense from a military point of view, who would ever follow such orders?” Jack asked, shaking his head.

“The artificial race exclusively composed of warriors, but I will get to that later; for now, accept that we are not dealing with reasonable beings here. The concept of peace on equal terms is simply not part of their worldview.”

“May I ask why did you decide to show yourself as angels, when you first made contact with the demon ship’s captain?” One of the anthropological scientists asked.

“We hoped that an image of a familiar species would be easier for them to process, but it turned out to be a mistake. Even so, it would not have made any difference if they had seen us in our true image. In truth, we were lucky that they never checked the data that their ship automatically collected, so they never figured out the Earth was populated by humans,” Max responded.

“Why wouldn’t they check their own data?” Emma asked.

“The answer to that question boils down to arrogance and the fact that these three demons were not the brightest minds of their species. As much as I can determine from their orders that were in the system, this crew was on some kind of punitive mission,”Max said and got a few inquisitive looks in return.

“That is the tone I got from the orders; it seems exploration is not in the top ten of their favorite pastimes; war and destruction take precedence over everything,”Max explained with a sour look on his face.

“One of the most important things we do know is that it took them three months of real-time to translate from the angel’s systems to this one. Consequentially, we don’t expect to see any more alien ships for at least six months, and that is if they immediately sent another one when this one fails to report.”

“It takes three months to travel from one system to another?” Elizabeth asked.

“Well, that one is a bit harder to explain,” the AI said, scratching his head. “OK, it takes three months of normal time, but for those in the ship no subjective time at all passes. Ancient angels were familiar with this phenomenon by observing the internal clocks of the interstellar probes they sent. It has to do with the traveling distance, so that time varies from system to system. Their leading theory was that during the translation, the ship slips into another dimension, in which time and distance are not the same constants as they are in ours. I found several scientific papers that they wrote on the subject, I will send them to whoever is interested in reading them,” The AI said, and immediately half a dozen scientists raised their hands.

Michael breathed a great sigh of relief when Max said that the trip to and from Hemina took so much time. He wished that it was longer, but beggars can’t be choosers. Still, it meant they had some breathing room before the next demon ship, or ships arrived. They would need that time to prepare for the next incursion into the Solar System.

Ision, who was present on one of the monitors, said, “It is the same technology Mikell’s colony ship used. In fact, Excalibur was made as an experimental craft with the main purpose to test a translation system that didn’t suffer from such a time deviation between subjective and objective time. The new translation engine was designed, but never built or installed; there was simply not enough time. The research started in the exile colony and was finished in Atlantis. There are schematics of it in the Knowledge Vault, so we have a bit of an advantage here, and time to make preparations.”

“How can that bring us an advantage? We are in no position to attack them in the Hemina system, as things stand right now.” Jack asked.

Ision’s image lowered his head, and said quietly, “In case we are defeated again, as Atlantis was… we could run.” The last thing he said very quietly, but everyone in the room heard it. The entire room was in complete silence.

“Okay, stop with the doom and gloom,” Michael said when he saw their faces. “We are not planning to run away.”

“Leader Freeman, you must admit there is some value to that idea,” one of the scientists said.

Michael didn’t want to lose his temper, and he understood the man’s fears. Yet the warrior in him didn’t even want to contemplate the idea of a defeat. It would be debated, of course, as it would be stupid not to do so. Nevertheless, having a defeatist point of view from the start was no way to wage a war.

“We will discuss some contingency plans at a later date, but there is no way we could run away and leave billions of people on Earth to such gruesome fate. Let’s continue the meeting.”

“Did you find out from where they came originally? And why did they attack the angel system?” Elizabeth asked, quick on her feet to steer them back in the right direction.

Max shook his head. “No, their point of origin was not in the databases contained in that ship. Although from the star charts I retrieved, they are now occupying a large volume of space, all of it gained in conquest; but the first system they acquired was the Hemina system, home of the angels. It is still somewhat serving as their home base. They had subjugated dozens of star systems, but only those with life-bearing planets. Everywhere where they found intelligent life they attacked, then made the natives into their slaves… and a food source. Going by that, Earth would be a prime target,” Max said.

This information created a few shocked murmurs from his audience.

“The videos we saw from the attack on Gaina illustrated their common practice. They announce that they are coming in peace, and when they assess the victim—the attack begins. As far as I can understand, the reason they attack sapient races is that they need slaves to do menial tasks and as a food source. They do not grow any food themselves or keep domesticated animals; other species are used for that purpose. When we were looking for the food to supply our prisoner with, the first place searched was the ship’s food stores. There was food there… at least what they consider as such. Meat from murdered angels and half a dozen other species… all packed in separate bags, exactly as a human would treat meat from domesticated food animals.”

“Jesus,” Pete softly exhaled.

“Their society is insane by our own standards, artificial and hierarchical to the point. They have no family groups as we know them, but there are advantages to belonging to certain genetic bloodlines. Moreover, you will never find a female demon–there isn’t one; the entire race propagates using artificial means. Grown within mechanical wombs, they are decanted as adolescents, and from that point, everything in their life is a savage battle. These are the highlights of the things we managed to extract from the computer data, and I am sure we will find some other particularities. Furthermore, all my analysis tells me that there is someone behind them, the creator or controller if you will. Demons as a race are not that intelligent, and for them to create a space empire alone would be almost impossible. I might be wrong, hell, Genghis Khan didn’t lead an army of intellectuals, but he still managed to build an empire, and his grandsons almost conquered the entirety of Europe.”

Max looked around the table. “Essentially, ladies and gentlemen, the entire demon race is a genetically engineered weapon. Highly sophisticated one, but a weapon nonetheless; and we have zero data on who created it or for what purpose.”

Max’s rapt audience listened in silence, most of the people focused on the image of the demon; something they felt would haunt their dreams in times to come.

“What did you discover concerning their bodies?” Michael asked, remembering how the scientists chosen to perform the autopsy reacted when they gave them those corpses; it was like giving Christmas presents to a bunch of kids. In his whole life, he had never seen anyone being so happy to be given a cadaver. The world was filled with strange people.

Max nodded, “Dr. Takahashi is in charge of the autopsy team that conducted the post-mortem examination, so I’ll let him answer that question,” Max said and pointed at the elderly oriental man.

The man stood up, made a graceful bow to them all, and addressed them.

“Please consider that we had a very short time to study the corpses, so our results are not final. However, by what we were able to discern so far, these creatures have an unbelievable constitution. Their skin is more of a flexible exoskeleton, so durable that we needed to use monomolecular scalpels to make our incisions; regular stainless-steel ones could not cut into it. Inside, they are biological perfections of functionality. Almost every system is designed for maximum efficiency, and there are redundancy systems everywhere. These creatures have two hearts, multiple lungs, and even if you managed to shoot them through their thick skulls, the brain is segmented in such a way that they would still be partly functional for some time. Their digestive system is capable of processing any organic matter, due to the extremely corrosive acid inside, so you would call them the ultimate omnivores, yet for their physiology, meat is the preferred food of choice.”

While Dr. Takahashi was talking, that demon’s image went through a transformation, layers of skin and internal organs were peeled back to better demonstrate the doctor’s presentation.

“They are oxygen breathers, but unlike humans, demons are able to function in atmospheres where there is only a minimum oxygen content present, and their thermal adaptability is equally impressive. Much higher temperature resistance to hot and cold make them suitable to function in a variety of different environments. The skeleton has a high metal content, grown in a complex matrix, which makes their fracture toughness equal to some alloy steels we use on Earth. Additionally, their horns are made of the same material, and the particular way they are fused to the cranial bone makes them into perfect natural stabbing weapons that could most likely puncture through two inches of solid steel plate. That skeleton, combined with muscles that have a tensile strength of spider silk, makes them quite resilient adversaries.”

Dr. Takahashi looked directly at Michael. “Leader Freeman, the fact you captured your prisoner was a small miracle. Impacts of the Hammers had managed to stun the creature and give him something of a concussion, and while it could still function in a vacuum, the cold did have an effect on him. If he was at full capacity, I am afraid the outcome could have been quite different. Also, its mask and your helmet prevented it from using his teeth on you. They are coated with a powerful neurotoxin; one bite would have been enough to completely paralyze you.”

He again addressed everyone. “As Max-sama previously mentioned, our findings are that these creatures were purposely designed to be biological killing machines.” Dr. Takahashi bowed again and sat down.

The silence once again settled in the conference room, with everybody looking at the holo-screen and the ominous demon’s image.

Michael cleared his throat. “Dr. Takahashi, can you tell us why our tranquilizers didn’t work? We must have hit him fifty times at least.”

The man nodded. “Their biochemistry is so different, that the doses your tranquilizers administered were minuscule. As well as the fact that only a few darts had managed to find softer spots, which enabled them to transfer the chemicals into the system; most of them did not even break the surface layer. For them to have any effect, I would suggest increasing the doses a thousandfold, and devising alternate injection systems.”

Michael bowed his head slightly towards the doctor, remembering that he saw a few darts bounce off its skin. At the time and in the heat of the moment, he thought they were hitting at a bad angle, but it would seem that the demons had their own natural battle suits.

“What are you feeding the prisoner? I hope it’s not what was found in the ship’s stores.” Emma asked.

“Of course not,” Max answered. “We give him regular food, and he hasn’t complained so far. All the remains that were collected from the ship are being analyzed, so we can better understand those alien species.”

The AI spread his hands. “Those are about all of our preliminary discoveries. Everything else is of a technical nature, and it can be accessed for further research on the secure part of the Solarian net.”

Michael cleared his throat. “So, to summarize; we have six months to prepare for another incursion of unknown size. Demons are literal killing machines that have an entire empire spreading over several star systems, and consider us as happy meals. And if the attack were to happen now, we wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.” Michael put the thoughts and fears of everyone in the room into words.

“Yep, that’s about right,” Max answered.

Michael looked around the room and saw disheartened expressions on almost everyone’s faces.

“All right people, I understand that our situation is not as good as we hoped it to be, but if we take a defeatist position, this show will be over before we even begin to do something about it,” he said, capturing everyone’s eye for a moment. “Defeat is not an option, and it is our responsibility to make sure it never happens. Look where we are right now, and consider all the various technologies we have. Angels on Gaina were pacifists, and we most certainly are not. All the resources at our disposal are far greater than Atlanteans had. We need a solid plan of what we can do in the next six months so we would be ready when the next incursion occurs. And you better believe there will be one.”

Michael took a breath and looked at them with a fierce resolve.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for all intents and purposes, the Solarian Union is in the state of interstellar war. From now on, all our efforts must be concentrated on that endeavor.” He could see in the faces of people around the desk that spark of defiance he was trying to invoke.

“You have one week to come up with constructive ideas about this threat and how to face it. In a week’s time, we will have a strategy meeting about the plan we are going to follow. Consider all the things we can reasonably achieve in that time frame, all projects that will take longer must be given lesser priority.

That’s it, ladies and gentlemen, do your best because humanity depends on you.”

***

Only those of the inner circle remained in the room after everybody else left. Max waved his hand to a nearby wall and a secret compartment opened to reveal a mini-fridge filled with cold beers.

“What? The situation calls for it,” he said after receiving a few raised eyebrows.

“How sure are you that we have a full six months until they return?” Tyron asked the AI, as he stood up from his chair and went to the fridge.

“It’s a logical deduction, based on behavioral patterns I managed to extract from the stored orders in the scout ship databases. The demons’ command expects a report from the scout ship in three months, the exact time an autonomous messenger probe would take to translate to their system. It is only natural that they will send someone else to see what caused the delay, and it is highly doubtful that they will only send one ship. We may have some leeway if they decide not to act immediately, but it would be too dangerous to count on that time; six months is the maximum we can give ourselves for the preparations.”

Al accepted a beer from Tyron and pointed with it at the demon’s image on the holo-screen. “Damn, if I knew how badass those things were, I would have carried the Pacifier when we were boarding that ship.”

“Yeah, or an elephant gun, they pack quite a punch,” Pete said, and pointed his finger at the same image, mimicking a shooting motion.

“We can’t keep this secret for long,” said Elizabeth, massaging her temples. “It’s bound to leak out soon, especially in a tight-knit group as the Solarian population is.”

“And that’s why I’m going to tell them what the stakes are, very soon, since their own lives are on the line. We are going to need everyone’s maximum effort if we are to be ready in time,” Michael responded.

“And the rest of the world?” Jack asked, and grabbed a few bottles of beer, to help Tyron with the distribution.

“Them too, as soon as we can arrange another emergency special session of the UN General Assembly. God knows how they are going to react to be summoned again. After that, Max is going to release a few documentaries that will explain the entire situation to the world.” Michael said, and Max nodded.

“You know how that will be received,” Elizabeth murmured, shaking her head.

Michael nodded. “The usual—fear, panic, and mayhem. That’s why I wanted to keep the entire demon/angel thing a secret as long as possible, but it seems fate has other ideas.” He smiled sourly.

“It is going to become a madhouse,” Ben stated and pointed at the approximate direction of Earth. “Mass suicides, protests on an unimaginable scale, and many who will demand that we make peace with the demons or to surrender ourselves to their mercy. The religious nuts will go nuttier, and let us not talk about the various Satanist cults who will feel justified in their beliefs, and will go bat-shit crazy.”

Michael shrugged his shoulders. “So let them; there is nothing we can do about it. I realize that informing the public will probably be the cause of hundreds, even thousands of deaths. But I have no intention to take any responsibility for it. We are going to explain what is happening and hope for the best. It has become politically incorrect in recent years to say certain truths or to act in certain ways. As far as I am concerned, taking the blame for the actions of others is a brand of insanity. I don’t care how many crazies kill themselves, or if people’s religious views are hurt by reality. It is their problem, not mine, or ours. Our greatest responsibility is to the people of the Solarian Union, and I plan to do everything to make sure they are protected.”

He turned his gaze to the AI’s hologram. “Max, we need more offensive and defensive weapons. Hammers are not good enough for space battles, even if they managed to put a few dents in that scout ship. We also need new ships, more maneuverable, durable, and a hell of a lot faster. Search through the Knowledge Vault for anything that can give us an advantage. Ision and Ares are also deputized; maybe all the AIs combined can take up the slack for those of us who live at a slower pace.”

“I’m ahead of you, and you’re right, the performance of the Hammers was depressing. I have several ideas already, alien concepts that can be joined with earth weapons sciences to create something with more impact.”

Michael looked piercingly at the holo-screen while holding a cold bottle of beer in his hands.

“One week… we have one week to decide on our future course of action. I hope it’s enough time.”

Book 3 - Chapter 22

The S.U. Space station

An hour after the meeting ended, Michael boarded the Excalibur and traveled to the space station for one purpose—to have a face-to-face conversation with their demon prisoner. There was an entire scientific team of psychologists and ex-military interrogators assembled to begin their work on the captured demon, as soon as Max gave them okay for it. Right now, Michael needed to confront the monster himself.

The dream he had last night did not help any; he was once again on the demon ship bridge, holding back the clawed hands of the beast, but there was one small difference. This time, he wore no helmet to protect his head and the demon did not have an oxygen mask covering his mouth. The image of those shark teeth inches away from his face woke him right up.

“So Max, how is our guest enjoying his new accommodations?” He asked as the ship was approaching the station.

“Well, he is sleeping right now, but his overall behavior leaves much to be desired, which makes me think that he has some serious anger issues. He’s also been extremely foul-mouthed; I almost wish that I did not know his language so I wouldn’t have to understand all that obscene barking. Although, his constant threats did provide me with some additional intelligence; it would seem that he has been someone important back home, or at least his ‘progenitor is’. A weird name to call one’s father. There are some things I’m still unclear about, and cannot ask him for clarification, even if I could get a word in.”

“Let’s see if he will react differently to me.”

The Excalibur went through the entire procedure of entering the space station by passing through numerous airlocks. They reached an isolated level on which the said prisoner was the only occupant. The decor was quite similar to the one he saw when they activated Ision’s AI-core. Miles of open space covered in gray metal and a plain ceiling that gave out a diffused white light. The only two features that stood out on this level were the central support pillar and the demon’s prison cell. It was a boxlike structure with numerous safeguards, all to ensure that the monster would not be able to get out.

The ship landed close to the building, and Michael exited the craft to find himself standing in front of a fifteen-foot-tall metal wall, with extremely tough-looking doors. As he passed through them, he could see that the walls were a few feet thick, indicating Max’s standard practice to over-engineer everything.

Inside was a regular looking cage with bars made out of Resistanium that were as thick as his thigh. Even that incredibly tough metal showed signs of the demon’s fists and claws. Max calculated that if their prisoner continued with the abuse of his prison cell, in a few centuries he would be able to break out. A wide yellow and red striped warning line was painted on the floor, indicating the demon’s reach, with ‘DO NOT CROSS!’ written in bright red letters in front of it.

When Michael entered the inner chamber of the demon's prison, the creature was sleeping on the ground, lying on one of those tatami mats they took from the scout ship. From his viewpoint, he could see its back and big leathery wings that were folded around the alien, appearing as if the demon was using them as a blanket. The sharp claws on the joints of those wings indicated that they could be used for more than flying. Long, muscled legs ended in broad elongated feet, which had a similar set of claws on the tips of the toes. It was so weird that these creatures could utilize their wings for combat, besides their arms. He once again realized how lucky he was in their first encounter; those claws could have ripped the flesh from his bones, in no time.

He disengaged the suit’s camouflage and took off his helmet; the temperature was on the cold side, but nothing too uncomfortable. Yet, the stench of sulfurous wet dog permeated the air around the cage. He wondered if all the legends about demons and the associated smell of brimstone originated from the ancient humans who somehow got close to the demons and lived to tell the tale. On the other hand, there was a possibility that those humans had managed to kill a few of these beasts. The picture he saw in a museum as a kid crossed his mind, depicting many humans dressed in fur, and attacking a giant mammoth. Admittedly, humans of that time were primitive compared to the demons that survived the destruction of the ship, but primitive doesn’t mean harmless. Something General Custer found out personally in the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Humans have a breaking point, after which they either succumb to despair or go into a battle frenzy. If you push someone across certain lines, do not be surprised if he goes directly for your jugular; it’s just the way the human species evolved.

It was a bit of a letdown for Michael that the alien didn’t notice him as soon as he became visible, so he put two of his fingers to his lips and produced a piercing whistle. The effect was instantaneous and extremely violent. The Demon jumped from the floor in the blink of an eye and came directly at Michael, without even pausing to assess the situation. The sound of his flesh hitting the metal bars reverberated through the enclosure. He was stretching his arms through the bars, with his clawed hands reaching towards the human before him. Those claws were stopped at the beginning of the striped warning line on the floor. The Demon was trying to attack while producing a resonating guttural sound, something more fitting coming from the throat of an enraged lion.

Michael stood there for a while, observing the raging alien. His heart was beating faster, a feeling of almost atavistic fear urging him to turn around and run away as fast as he could from the beast, but he did not want to give any indication that the Demon’s action had any effect on him. Eventually, when the roars quieted down, he said, “Captain1, if you would calm down maybe we could have a civilized conversation.”

Max was translating his speech into Demon’s language, and Michael tried not to make a grimace when he heard that translation sounding more like a pack of rabid dogs, fighting over a bone. The demon snarled, showing Michael a mouthful of sharp serrated teeth.

“Your species is small and weak, a lower life-form that is only good for servitude and food,” it growled at him menacingly.

Michael deliberately smiled at that, showing his own teeth in return.

“And yet, here you are, my prisoner, confined to a locked cell. What does that make you?”

It was like baiting a rabid dog, but he needed to establish some kind of a rapport with the alien. Showing any kind of weakness would diminish his position. The demon started raging again, trying to reach Michael with his claws. It took a few minutes for him to regain his composure, then he stood up straight, towering over a much smaller human before him.

“Your days are numbered, creature,” the demon said with a menacing grin. “My brothers will come and destroy your entire race. You dared to defy us, and that challenge will not go unanswered. Soon I will feast on your flesh and that of your children.” The demon said and Michael could see he had no doubt of that statement coming true.

Michael showed as many teeth as he could, and produced a menacing grin of his own.

“No, you won’t; we will be feasting on yours.”

The demon looked at him, not saying a word, squinting his eyes. This was not the response he was expecting; not seeing fear and terror in the lesser species was confusing to him.

Michael was following the script he made with Max and a few psychologists earlier on. They even had to consult a veterinarian, as someone more familiar with the instinctual behavior of predatory species. They were lacking experts on alien psychology and biology as there was never any need for such vocations. To correct that deficiency, a few scientists who were in the know, decided to pursue the fields of Xenobiology and Xenopsychology and were very excited that they could write books on the subjects.

When they spoke with Michael, they gave him a few guidelines and vague advice on how he should act. This was a contest of wills and perceptions, a way to make the demon go through a paradigm shift, by changing his view of reality and his place in the universe. The truth was a commodity they couldn’t indulge in, especially dealing with a member of the antagonistic alien race. They needed information on how demons’ think, and to find the chinks in their psychological armor. It is not as if the humans did not have experience at extracting information, usually from their own kind; those proven methods could be adapted for the current situation.

Michael looked into the alien's black eyes, and took a step forward, all the way to the outer edges of the danger line on the floor. The only advantage he had was that the demon didn’t really know with whom he was dealing with. The entire human race was a big unknown to this creature, and Michael intended to use that.

“We have been observing you for almost thirteen millennia.” Michael started to spin his tale. “Ever since those angels which escaped your conquest of Gaina came to us, begging for our help. We were already more advanced than they were, so we made them our slaves and used the information they had on you to prepare for the time of the encounter of our two species. All this time we watched you how you conquered other sapient life forms, and used them as slaves and food. For all that time we have been building our strength, and no species in this universe is our equal. Soon, we will start a great hunt, with thousands of ships, and millions of bloodthirsty warriors. Your species, Captain1, will be our prey.” Michael said, hoping to get some rise from a demon, but the only thing he could detect was a slight widening of the eyes.

“How easily you fell into our trap with that malfunctioning probe we sent. Besides, this is not even our home system; we have hundreds of others that we conquered over time. All that we have done because of you, so we could grow stronger, so we could hunt you down. We will not rest until the entire demon species is under our control. You will be nothing more than slaves, and Captain1… slaves have no use for their wings.” Michael said and mimicked cutting off the leathery appendages of the demon's back.

At that moment, he was thankful for the drama class he took in high school; there was a girl involved, but still.

“Captain1, have you ever had the pleasure of tasting succulent demon flesh, cooked over a slow fire? I cannot even begin to describe how tasty the meat of your crewman was when we ate him at the feast last night.” Michael said, licking his lips, and trying to imagine that the demon is a juicy steak. In his opinion, he was doing a pretty good impersonation of Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

The demon stepped back, never shifting his gaze from Michael, but bending his head to one side, as a dog would.

“And look how effortlessly we captured you, Captain1. In your stupidity, you fell right into our trap, which was devised so we could acquire a live specimen… you.”

The demon was silent for a while, and then barked, “What do you want from me?”

Michael smiled again. “Your cooperation Captain1… and your servitude. There is no doubt that we will conquer your entire race, but that doesn't necessarily need to be a bad thing for you.” Michael said convincingly, and the demon shifted on his feet.

“If you cooperate with us, we can make a deal with you. How would you like to be a Leader1 of your entire race? If you work for us and act as our adviser—we could make that happen. Of course, your responsibility afterward would be to keep your entire species firmly under your heel; we would let you remain in control of all slave races you conquered. Naturally, there would be a few of our commands you’ll need to obey, but you would ultimately be in charge of all demons. Think about that Captain1 while you sit in this metal box. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a feast to attend. The second of your crewmen survived, and he will be the main course. I wish you could have heard him scream when we put him in the fire, it was the most beautiful sound in the universe.” Michael smiled again.

The demon grunted, not saying anything. But that was enough for Michael, he didn’t expect to make any headway in this first conversation. This was just planting a seed of an idea, a seed that will hopefully—in time—grow into something bigger.

Before exiting the enclosure, Michael turned around and looked once again at the demon.

“Call for me if you want something more in life than rotting away in your cell awaiting our next feast… my name is Michael.”

He could feel the alien’s penetrating gaze on his back and felt the hairs on his neck rise a little.

“That was a whole bunch of crap if I ever heard one, and you went off the script,” Max said as Michael was entering the Excalibur.

“I know, I had to wing it at the end, but hopefully something will come out of all that. Make sure our interrogators know exactly what was said, so they don’t accidentally change my story.”

“I will, but I’m not sure if we will ever get to him. Remember that we are working here with an entirely alien species, who knows what drives them.”

“I’m betting there are enough similarities between us then even we suspect. And he is alone with no prospects of a better future. Which reminds me, you need to build a bigger enclosure, maybe mile by mile. Include some features that will be familiar to him. That will be one of the rewards for his cooperation.”

“Jesus… do you intend for me to build an alien zoo?”

Michael smiled. “You can look at it that way. A perfect place to study them in as natural an environment as we can create. The more we know about them increases our chances to defeat the next incursion.

As the Excalibur was returning to the Ascension, Michael once again went over the entire encounter with the demon, remembering the piercing look of those soulless eyes.

Book 3 - Chapter 23

City-Ship Ascension

Conference Room

It was the day of the meeting he scheduled a week ago. Today they will decide which steps to take and how they will utilize the next six months so they would be prepared for the expected demon incursion.

Every seat in the conference room was once again taken, and everyone who had any decision-making responsibilities in the Solarian Union was present.

Michael was glad that he was going to reveal this burdensome secret to the public very soon. Considering how many people were already read into it, it was a small wonder that it hadn’t already leaked.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began when everyone was seated. “As you all know, in little less than six months, we will be faced with hostile alien ships that will come to our Solar System. This meeting is all about what we will do to address that threat and how we will protect the Solarian Union and Earth from the inevitable attack. I also want to thank you all for managing to keep the secret of what we are facing to yourselves, but that will not be an issue after today; I plan to address all of our citizens later tonight and lay it all out. Okay… let’s begin,” Michael said, and people around the table nodded.

Max’s hologram stood up from the chair opposite Michael. “Let me open this meeting with an update on a few developments that happened during the week. For one, we had managed a more thorough examination of the demon’s scout ship and concluded that the greatest advantage they had over our transporters was its energy shield; much more advanced than any similar angel technology we knew of. Without it, a single Hammer would have disintegrated that ship. But their shield was so strong, it shrugged most of them off. We were lucky that several camouflaged Hammers hit at the same time and overloaded it to a degree, so it ultimately bent inward, but even then, it still held and preserved the hull integrity before shutting off.”

He pointed at the holographic representation of the scout ship that appeared above the desk, showing its internal components, including the shield systems.

“I believe that we will be able to duplicate that tech without any problems, so have that in mind for future projects. All my nano-factories in the asteroid belt have been tasked with maximizing their workloads to 100%, and all other projects have been stopped. Those resources will be diverted into creating new ships and weapons, which will help us face the alien threat. Additionally, there were some files in the Knowledge Vault that we may find useful. Weapons designs of the old angels, part of the ancient archives even for them, and placed there long before they chose a path of peace. Combined with our own weapons concepts, the theoretical models of our future armaments are promising. Unfortunately, as our attack on the scout ship has shown, the Hammers have an inadequate effect on their ship designs, and that scout is their smallest class of ships. Any new weapon system we devise needs to be far more powerful—think nuclear as a starting point. There are a few more things, but they are not so important, I will let Dr. Ross begin with his presentation.” Max nodded and took his seat.

Dr. Ross, or ‘call me Ben’ to his friends, stood up from his chair and cleared his throat.

“With Max’s help and a new division we formed with people that had long careers in the aerospace industry, plans for the future Solarian Union battle fleet have been devised. With the deadline so extremely short, the designs are not pretty but they are very efficient. As those rockets and their point defense showed, there is a great need for additional armor and maneuverability. Taking all that into account, we have already come up with some ideas that we believe will work.”

He pressed a few buttons on his tablet and four images appeared on a holographic display above the table.

“As you can see, we decided on four types of crafts that can be made within a relatively short time frame we have available. The first one is a space fighter, loosely based on conventional fighter aircraft. It is a two-man spacecraft armed with dozens of missiles and our version of an aircraft cannon. It will be very quick and maneuverable, equipped with the best inertial dampeners we can make, but unfortunately with limited armor. The new shields could be incorporated into this design to make it far more resilient to enemy fire.”

He paused for a few moments so that his audience could look at the holographic model of a space fighter.

“The second type is equivalent to the old wet Navy gunboats; it is made of armor, engine, and weapons. It will have a minimal crew, and ten people will be enough to operate it.”

The gunboat reminded Michael of a fat transporter, much thicker, and a hell of a lot bigger. The cross-section looked like that of a peach. Most of it was solid, except in the middle where it was hollow.

“The core is a command module and living quarters, and the engines are behind it. Then we have fifty feet of armor and close to the outer hull are weapon systems, we still need to devise. This design will ensure that each vessel can take a considerable pounding, without being destroyed. We calculated that it would have taken more than a dozen of those rockets that the demon scout ship fired, to disable it. Not extremely fast, but heavily shielded and carrying plenty of weapons.”

Ben highlighted the third model with his tablet. The image was that of a pockmarked sphere, having an uncanny resemblance to a golf ball.

“And this is our idea of a fighter carrier, capable of transporting two hundred and fifty space fighters while providing adequate living accommodations during the deployment. The indentations on the hull are launching bays that will enable all the space fighters to be put into action in a matter of minutes. Each of these bays is equipped with substantial facilities for individual space fighter repair and resupply. Think of it as Formula One pit stops; the space fighters that are low on ammunition or rockets can quickly come back to the carrier, top off, and return to action again. The carrier is not the fastest thing out there, but it has decent armor and quite abundant point-defense. And finally, the last model is something we named a battle station.”

The graphical representations of the previous three crafts shrunk in size while the last one expanded to show the size comparison. Judging by that, it was immense and dwarfed the three types of crafts standing beside it. For a moment, Michael thought that it was an image of their space station, but cross-section and numerous armaments on the hull disputed that.

“As the name implies, it is a mobile station with the purpose to hold its ground and mix it up with the enemy. This thing will be able to take some serious pounding while dishing out a healthy serving in return. It will have no space fighters of its own, as it is essentially a fortress. We hope the aliens will concentrate on it, thus allowing our other forces some breathing room. It is two and a half miles in diameter, and most of it is armor. The weapon systems are all close to the surface while command and living quarters are at the center, similar to our gunboats but on a much larger scale. The estimated crew is one thousand, with a good number of them being responsible for the weapons control; it is a command vessel, from which all orders will be given. As I said, most of it is armor, so there will not be as much space inside as the size would imply. It will not be very fast or maneuverable, but it will be able to sustain the rate of fire of all other models combined,” said Ben, with a glint of pride in his eyes.

Michael liked the concept of the battle station, deadly yet secure with enough armor so his people would have a better chance of surviving than they ever would have in a flimsy transporter. The hologram showed the cross-section of the craft, and as Ben said, 90% of it was armor, but the center had a small biosphere. Housing elements and even something he thought was a hydroponics section. It was by no means luxurious, but far better than anything members of earth’s navies enjoyed while on deployment.

“How many battle stations can be built in time?” Michael asked, thinking about demons’ massive ships.

Ben shook his head. “Unfortunately, with all other construction projects and a tight timeframe, we can build only one. Furthermore, it will not be very comfortable to live in; we are going for functionality over comfort, but it will be highly efficient.”

Max added to Ben’s explanation. “That is why we chose this design over others, more sophisticated systems. As you can see, the last two models are spherical, so they will be easier to build by applying layers in the form of a laminate. Aside from the greater structural strength, there is a side benefit of the omnidirectional placing of armaments. Even if some are disabled, the simple rotation will put new weapon systems in the face of the enemy.”

“What numbers are we talking about?” Michael asked, indicating with his hands all of the proposed designs.

“With repurposing materials from the Asteroid Belt, we bought ourselves a few months of waiting for nanites clouds to extract the needed material from the asteroids. If everything goes according to plan, we should be able to make five hundred space fighters, ten gunboats, two fighter carriers, and one battle station. I ran the numbers and with nanites construction, all that is achievable within six months. Now, will it be enough to fight off the demons?… I don’t know,” the AI said.

Michael shook his head in wonder. “It’s okay Max; this is beyond my wildest expectations.”

The burden he had carried on his shoulders from the moment he realized that the aliens will come again, lessened somewhat. With this, they at least had a fighting chance to repel all the ships that demons will send, if for nothing else then just to see what happened to their scout. Nobody knew what would be needed to challenge those big ships demons had, but for the immediate defense, it would have to be enough. He wished the databases on the scout ship had more information about their actual strength and what armament their bigger ships carried, but they will have to find out that information the hard way.

Jack was the next and his words reduced that exhilaration. “We have a huge problem,” he said while pointing at the four holographic images. “As things stand right now, we don’t have nearly enough people to man all this, not by a long shot. All my recruitment efforts so far will be enough to form a strong command structure, but we are severely lacking in pilots to fly all those space fighters and other crafts. We need more people, and we need them soon.”

“Pilots are crucial, but so are the people which form lower ranks of the military structure,” Colonel Fletcher added. He was Jack’s right-hand man, responsible for the overall logistics. “We are talking about creating an entire space navy in a very limited time. So, think supporting crew, maintenance techs, cooks—the whole shebang. What's more, the best crews for bigger ships and the battle station are ex-Navy personnel, especially submariners; working in an enclosed environment is something they're used to, be it water or vacuum.”

Jack took over from the Colonel. “All in all, we will need an additional two thousand experienced personnel. Just to man all the vessels will require two and a half thousand and that is a bare minimum. My recruiting network simply cannot headhunt so many qualified people in such a short time. The only thing that comes to mind is to recruit directly from the active forces, and no nation on earth would allow that.

Max continued, “And we need them ASAP. All those new recruits will need extensive training in handling new equipment, and that needs to start within a month. They also need to be rushed through the nanite treatments and the CEI implantation, and then to immediately start training in virtual simulators I am already constructing. That is the best way to give them some experience until they can occupy the vessels we are going to build.”

“Max, can the lack of personal be offset by using MIs?” Michael asked.

Max shook his head. “MIs are good for simpler tasks that are programmed into them, but they are very inadequate in situations where fast thinking is involved. You can install them as guidance systems in missiles and they should do reasonably well to implement a few different scenarios, but where tactical thinking is involved—they are simply not good enough. The human brain is still the fastest decision-making system we have, excluding AI’s of course. Unfortunately, besides Ision, Ares, and me, we don’t have any more lying around.”

“How many could we recruit from our own population?”

Jack was the one to answer. “We have two thousand ex-military citizens we can call upon, and another two to three thousand from the general population that could be used in supporting roles. Most of them have experience with ground combat, which can be useful for boarding actions and surface combat—not for a space battle. We have counted on them when we assessed that we need two thousand additional people for the space navy we are building. Let’s face it, our immigration policies were heavily in favor of scientists, and their families; I had no problem with that, but they don’t make the best material for a warrior mindset.”

Michael nodded. “All right, I may have a solution, even if I don’t personally like it. At the impending meeting with the UN General Assembly, I can ask for additional manpower from the member countries. If I can get them to agree, finding the crew for all these ships should not be a problem. If they do not agree… we will go all out with a recruitment campaign that will encompass the entire world. Both solutions are less than optimal, and I hate having soldiers belonging to other countries serving on our ships; there are bound to be some troubles there. But as the saying goes, needs must when the devil drives.

He could see the expression of relief on Jack’s and Colonel Fletcher’s face. For a long time, the recruitment of new personnel was their main job, but now, with such an exponential increase of need, the techniques they were using so far were exceedingly inadequate. They were looking for the individuals, and that was all suitable while they were planning for slower growth, but now they would need people in bulk.

Michael made a note of the personnel problem and faced the people around the table again. “Alright then, that is settled; what’s next…”

In the next few hours, everyone got the opportunity to speak, and to present his or her ideas. Some exceptional suggestions showed great promise. One of the surprising ideas was from a quiet little man Dr. Joseph, who had several Ph.D.’s in various fields. He suggested that they take asteroids from the belt and equip them with Gravity-drives, making them into enormous Hammers. He said himself that their chances to get even close to the enemy were probably minimal, but every missile expended on them was one less their pilots and crews of the ships would have to face.

A dozen boarding teams would be assembled exclusively from their own people and trained to do the same thing Michael, Tyron, Pete, and Al did when they went inside the scout ship. To get more demon prisoners, and to gather as much intelligence as they could.

Some of the proposed projects had to be put on the back burner, no matter how great the original ideas were. There was simply not enough time to do them all. Only those that had the greatest chance of success in allocated time were even considered, with all the rest going in the file that would be used after this next incursion was beaten.

As a final point, Michael addressed all present. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the efforts you made so far, and know that things you’re about to do will be what saves the human race from an unimaginable fate. Projects of this magnitude have never been attempted before, but I’m sure that in the end, we will prevail.”

It didn’t take long for the room to clear out, and Michael was left alone with the AI.

“Is everything ready?” Michael asked, massaging his temples.

“Yes, in half an hour you get to address everyone, I will monitor all communications to stop any leaks until you make your speech to the UN.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” he ironically murmured, wishing at that moment to be somewhere far away, ideally on the bank of some isolated lake with a fishing pole in his hand, and the cooler of cold beers beside him.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Central Park

Michael was standing in front of the large crowd gathered in the Ascension’s Central Park. His head was above everybody’s since he was standing on the raised podium, constructed here for this specific occasion.

He couldn’t help but realize that he was forced by events to act like a politician, damn. A small video drone was hovering a dozen feet in front of him, transmitting live feed to those who weren’t in the crowd, and to the new space station. Behind him was a huge holo-screen, which would show the presentation Max created, so his speech could be supplemented by images and videos taken from the Knowledge Vault.

The speech was postponed until after the earlier meeting, so the people could see that those that lead them had already made plans to confront the threat. In turn, that would give them hope and incentive to work towards the common goal.

Michael took a deep breath and began. “Some of you know bits of things I’m about to tell you, and many of you will be completely surprised. It is time for you all to know a part of our world’s history that has been forgotten, and that only remains in vague myths and legends. To some of you, this history may prove offensive as it has some serious religious connotations, but it is all true.

“It all started almost thirteen thousand years ago, in a solar system that was not our own…”

It took more than an hour for him to tell them the story about angels, demons, and Atlantis. From the expression on their faces, he could see that some were skeptical, a few were amused, and there were plenty of those who showed fear. When he got to the part of the Demon scout ship’s recent attack, there was visible dismay in their expressions.

“… So now you know the stakes. We are in a state of war with an alien species, and they will accept nothing else except utter domination. They would either use us as slaves or for food. They do not acknowledge the rights of other sapient life forms to exist independently, only under their rule.”

All through his speech, Max had shown on the holo-screen the forgotten history and the disturbing images of what could be expected from the demons. When people are afraid, they tend to be irrational, so one man close to the stage shouted that they should try to negotiate a truce, despite all that was said. Michael realized that he was one of those who didn’t believe in violence; the irony was that his beliefs were inconsequential when violence believed in him. Therefore, he asked the man how often he had negotiated with the cow before eating a steak. That produced a nervous laugh from the crowd, but there was still a strong sense of fear.

“I understand that you are all afraid, only an insane person wouldn’t be when facing what we are about to. But we will not be the sheep waiting for the slaughter. From this day on, all our efforts are going to be concentrated on making the Solarian Union, and Earth itself, as safe as we possibly can. New plans were created for building our space fleet, one strong enough to make the demons sorry they ever set foot in our Solar System. You can help that effort with your suggestions that can be given to Max or Ares, and by active participation in the war effort. Very soon, I will meet with the world leaders to inform them of this situation, so please refrain from spreading the news to the planet; we are trying to avoid creating massive panic on Earth. You know how excitable most of them are. That is all, folks—prepare for war.” Michael finished and got off the stage.

Maybe it wasn’t the best speech in history, but he was winging most of it anyway. For the entire week, he wrestled with a thought of how to tell people that the actual demons will be attacking them soon. In the end, he decided to tell them the bare truth, without much embellishment, or empty promises. Their reaction in the days to come will be a testament if he and the others had succeeded in the awakening of the Solarian Union unified spirit.

The next speech he was going to make will be far worse, and a lot more judgmental. President Garner once again managed to arrange for another emergency special session of the UN General Assembly. He trusted Michael that what he had to say was important, and went beyond anything one would expect from a career politician.

In a few days, he will need to stand in front of a group of people, that in every sense that mattered, ruled Earth, and tell them that as things stood right now, they were all—screwed.

Book 3 - Chapter 24

Spaceship Excalibur

Earth-Moon Lagrange Point 1

For this event, Michael wanted to be at a particular position in space so he could see it all from a unique perspective. The Excalibur was stationed at the L1 Lagrange point, where the gravitational pull from both Earth and the Moon precisely equals the centripetal force required for a station to move with them, so it can stay in equilibrium, stationary with respect to the two celestial bodies. Or as resignedly Max explained to Al, “the gravity pull canceled itself out,” after trying to explain to the man the mathematical three-body problem—for the first ten minutes of the flight.

All the walls of the craft showed the exact view from the outside, and it was a beautiful sight. The spaceship’s location was closer to the much smaller moon than the planet it orbited, but from this spot, both celestial bodies could be clearly seen on opposite sides of the holo-screens.

Elizabeth, Alice, Anna, and the entire team were with him, nobody saying a word, everybody looking at the spectacle outside. This was the day in which the space station, after a long voyage from the Main Asteroid belt, would finally arrive at its permanent site. It was right on Earth-Moon L1 point, or in a halo orbit around it, to be precise. As the movement of the Moon tends to wobble at that point in space, there would be a need for some minor orbital station-keeping and minute adjustments of the station’s orbital position. Nevertheless, the advantage of this specific place, besides not having to fight the planet’s gravity to stay in space, was that its location enabled quick access to Earth, and at the same time gave enough distance to demonstrate their independence.

They could see the station approaching directly towards them, growing in size with each minute. An intimidating sight even if they knew that it would miss them by a few miles. It was not a small bright speck of light anymore, but a large silver cue ball. Its speed was greatly reduced since it had been making braking maneuvers from the halfway point of its voyage.

This entire spectacle was transmitted by Max to the Ascension and numerous Earth networks. Everybody wanted to see such a momentous event, and the numbers of people viewing the live transmission were staggering. By Max’s estimate, billions were at this very moment watching their TVs, computers, phones, and following every second of the final approach. It was similar to Neil Armstrong’s first moonwalk, with commentators in dozens of languages narrating every second of the event. The Ascensionwas impressive, and it had an almost cult following as a city in the skies, however, this space station was like an entirely new world, an immense habitat that could eventually support millions.

Max and Ares were incommunicado for the moment, orchestrating this entire approach by making millions of calculations each second, to ensure that the station would enter its new orbit with zero errors. Michael watched as the station came near them as an ocean liner would beside a small aluminum fishing boat, and then passed them by with barely any speed anymore.

There was a countdown clock in the transmission feed, and Michael looked at it, with billions of others, as it counted down until it reached zero.

And then it was over, an additional celestial body was a permanent fixture in Earth’s skies from now on, signifying a new era in human colonization of space. From the speakers, a wave of sound burst out; it was a combined noise thousands of people made clapping, hooting, and screaming in approval.

“Congratulations Max, that was beautiful to watch,” Elizabeth said to the smiling image of the AI.

“Thank you, Liz, it was like driving the biggest truck in the universe, and trying to fly it through the eye of a needle,” Max said proudly and made a sour grimace when Al commented a moment later.

“It’s so round and shiny, just like a Death Star.”

“How many times I have to tell you, it’s not a Death Star but a modified Bernal sphere!” he said to the smirking man who immediately replied.

“You can call it whatever you want, but if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck— “

“Okay you two, stop bickering. You had the same conversation half a dozen times already,” Michael said, interrupting something that could potentially be a long pointless discussion.

"Let’s go inside, the celebration is about to begin," Elizabeth said as the Excalibur took its place in the long line of transporters that were entering the space station.

This day was designated as a national holiday; the station entering its parking orbit was only part of it, there was another event scheduled to start soon. Still, those were all official excuses to have a relaxing day for the people of the Solarian Union. As a result of recent revelations, their citizens were scared and subdued, which was not surprising considering the threat of an alien invasion that was hanging above their heads. So a decision was made to give them all a short respite before the real work began.

Starting from tomorrow, the Solarian Union will be going on a complete war footing, doing everything so they could be prepared in six months’ time. Already there have been many reassignments to different positions, where the skills of some gifted individuals could be most efficiently utilized.

The celebration was simultaneously organized in Ascension’s Central Park and around the lake of the new space station’s residential level. Thousands have chosen to spend the day in the new station; to make the transport from one place to another easier, Ascension broke its orbit and came very close to L1. Almost every transporter they had was in use, going back-and-forth and looking like a long line of space taxis.

The Excalibur approached the station and entered the first enormous airlock doors. This part of the station hasn’t changed much from the first time Michael saw it; a bit more color maybe, and a few safety instructions written on the walls. The greatest change could be seen on the main level, which was transformed into an oasis in space.

Green was the predominant color, covering the entire floor and the slopes of the surrounding mountains. The effort of transplanting as many trees as possible never stopped, so there were thousands of them carefully placed, to make it seem as if they had naturally grown there. In the distance, he could see where Rivendell was hidden; only the river flowing from its direction showing the path. Even the main support pillar had changed considerably, looking more natural. In the beginning, the entire outer skin was made of glass windows from the apartments built into it, now every balcony had some greenery on it and a few small vertical gardens. It was starting to look like a giant tree trunk that was slowly being covered by moss.

“Max, can you take us close to the lakeshore, there is a new barbecue place everyone has been raving about,” Elizabeth said after the craft had passed a few miles from the entrance. In no time, they were all outside, standing in a soft supple grass beneath their feet, genetically engineered for optimal growth under these conditions.

It took them a few minutes to arrive at the wooden pier, and the floating raft-restaurant attached to it. A savory scent of barbecue enriched the air. As Elizabeth told them, it was owned by the husband of their leading botanist, who emigrated to the S.U. so he could accompany his wife. He was also a chef, who guarded the secret of his barbecue sauce with passion. The entire raft was disassembled on Earth and transported to the station, and quickly became one of the prominent places, where everybody who worked here regularly visited. Luckily, one of the long tables was unoccupied and Michael hurried with the rest of his band, to seize it while there was still time.

“What can I get you, folks?” The big man who approached the table said, and then did a double-take after seeing who his new customers were.

“Leader Freeman… I’m honored…” The man breathed out, surprised, but like any professional proprietor bounced back in no time. “I can recommend the special, its barbecue ribs in my special sauce,” he said, taking out a small notebook and a pen.

“Please call me Michael, and I will have a special accompanied with any beer you have on tap,” he ordered with a smile, and the others duplicated his order.

“Beer will be right up, and the ribs will be done in ten minutes,” the man said with a nod, and then went back to the kitchen.

“Boss, it seems you have become famous,” Al said with a grin, and then laughed when he saw that familiar uncomfortable look on Michael’s face.

“There’s something to be said about anonymity, I don’t think I like this much attention,” Michael replied, and tried to pay no notice to other patrons of the establishment who were discreetly pointing their phone cameras in his direction.

“This place is really shaping up,” Pete commented, looking at the lakeshore, and hundreds of people they could see from this place.

“Yeah, I’ve read the latest reports and they had even abundantly populated the lake with several varieties of fish, and there are plenty of sweet water shrimp that are thriving in the new environment,” Michael replied.

He looked around at the celebration that was already in full swing. Hundreds of tables were everywhere, making it look like a massive picnic in the park. He could see so many happy faces on this bright sunny day, with children running around in play, while the adults were lying on the grass, enjoying the atmosphere. A few spontaneous football, volleyball, and basketball games had started, and there were dozens of pedal boats on the lake’s surface. Maybe the strangest thing on the lake was a small sailboat that Max had for some inexplicable reason transported to the space station.

The lake itself had that deep blue color of mountain lakes, so clear that invited the eye to linger on it. The work on this level never stopped from that first time Michael came here. By now, there were more than two thousand botanists, gardeners, scientists, and support staff permanently living here, with the singular purpose to create a balanced biosphere, before the general population moved in. For a moment, he envied them; their problems consisted only of bringing life to this level, while they trusted him to take care of other things. Like fighting off a hostile alien race, for example.

As Pete stated, this entire level was shaping up into something unique; an artificial environment that was designed to have a truly natural feel to it.

Their order came, carried by the owner and two waiters. “Enjoy your meal folks, and call me if you need anything more,” he said smiling. “Bon appétit,” he finished with the spread arms, and quickly went back to the kitchen.

The group dug in with an appetite typical for the enhanced people. Moreover, for the next twenty minutes, no words were spoken, except the ones praising the BBQ taste.

Just as they were finishing the delicious meal, a loud chime reverberated through the entire level, and a familiar voice said, “May I have your attention, please.”

The sound came from the direction of the central pillar, and in the next moment, four huge holo-screens appeared floating around it, facing in all directions, making Max’s face visible from all sides of the level.

“It is time,” Elizabeth said, with a big smile on her face.

Despite the threat of future demon attacks, this was an event many citizens of the Solarian union awaited with excitement. It was no wonder since the betting pool for naming the station has become rather large, with quite a generous grand prize. It was Anna’s idea from way back when the biggest problem they had to face was to make people more united. Having a say in the naming of their future home was a good way to incite that desired unity.

The only one who at this moment knew the name of this new station was Max; only logical as he was the one who logged all the individual votes. In fact, the name was already written on the station’s outer hull by hundreds of construction drones. Although there was a holographic curtain over it, hiding it from everybody’s view. Even Michael was kept out of the loop for this one.

The system for choosing the name of the station was quite simple, and every citizen of the Solarian Union was included. For one week prior to this day, everyone had the right to put their proposition in the virtual hat. Once it was registered with Max, it could not be suggested again. He published every single name so people could give their likes or dislikes. From thousands of proposed names, from which many were hilarious and a few somewhat embarrassing, twenty with the most likes were chosen for the final vote. In the last twenty-four hours, everybody gave their vote for only one name of the twenty.

As Elizabeth said, the time announcing the name has come, and Max’s voice could be heard through every speaker, implant, and device in the S.U. Even those who were in the missile silo were included.

“Ladies and gentlemen, all your votes have been counted and I have a privilege to pronounce the winner. So let’s count down with me, and when we reach zero, I will reveal the name already written on the station's hull.” The smiling face of the AI proclaimed.

The view on the giant holo-screens changed from Max’s face to the outside view of the station, superimposed on it was the number ten.

Max started counting down, “ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and… ONE!” The sound of thousands of voices counting down echoed across the entire nation. When the voices said one, the holographic curtain flickered for a moment and then turned transparent.

“The new name of our home is the Solarian Union space station… AVALON!” Max’s voice finally said, and the cheer of the people could be felt as a vibration through the floor.

Each letter was a mile long and painted in gold, on the silvery surface of the hull. The name couldn’t be seen from one vantage point, due to the curvature of the sphere. However, the drone that was recording from the outside, circled around it so everybody could see the S.U. AVALONembossed on it.

Max had told him in confidence that the painthe was using to write the station’s name wasn’t paint at all… it was actual gold. The mining operation at the asteroid belt yielded so much of it, he didn’t know where to store it anymore, since the level he designated for it was filled with gold bars. He also made an entire gold layer inside the walls of the station for additional protection, and still had too much of it left. Placing even a fraction of that on Earth’s markets would devalue the price of the precious metal to such a degree, it would become essentially worthless. His solution was to put it to good use by making an impressive station sign; Michael didn’t want to calculate how much gold went into mile-high letters. Even looking at it from the drone’s camera, it was apparent that the name was especially shiny, reflecting the light of the sun.

The cheering and applause went on for some time before Max produced a sound like one would by tapping on a microphone, which lowered the amount of noise so his voice could be heard again.

“The first one to suggest our station’s new name was Miss Danielle Warvel, and her prize is an apartment of her choice in Rivendell. And by the way folks, Danielle is only seven years old.” He said with a smile, and everybody gave another round of applause to the image of a small girl whose face was shown on the holo-screens. She had a big grin on her face, with two front teeth missing, not a bit nervous that she was the focus of everyone’s attention.

Michael had to laugh; of all suggested names, a seven-year-old girl got to name the station. His suggestion didn’t even make it in the top twenty.

“You’re not mad that your choice wasn’t considered?” Elizabeth asked him.

“Not really, I threw in the ‘Death Star’ just to annoy Max, and to make sure Al couldn’t register it. I already have named the Excalibur and the Ascension, so naming the station too seemed a bit pretentious. That’s why I chose the name nobody would vote for,” he answered with a slight grin.

Max spoke through his implant. “The ‘Death Star’ got more than five hundred likes, you forgot how many geeks we have, so… thanks for that.” Using only the intonation of his voice, the AI managed to transmit a healthy dose of sarcasm.

“Well… you must admit it would have been a cool name,” Michael replied in the same way, still trying to maintain that carefree smile on his face.

The AI stayed silent, the kind of silence that has a very definite meaning.

“Let’s have another round of beers while there is still some on tap,” Al said and lifted his hand to summon the waiter.

Everybody agreed, and they stayed in that lake restaurant for hours, enjoying the relaxed time and the company.

Book 3 - Chapter 25

City-Ship Ascension

Michael’s Office

It was late at night, but Michael was still in his office, preparing the last draft of the speech he would give to the UN General Assembly tomorrow morning. He was about to call it a night when a dim shimmering in the air alerted him that Max was materializing his hologram, a behavior he stopped doing lately in his efforts to act more like a normal human being.

“I have a couple of things to talk to you about… privately,” the AI abruptly said, standing in front of his desk.

Michael looked around his empty office. “We are all alone Max, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Well, the occasion demands it,” the AI said with a smirk. “Seriously, these are some dangerous topics, so I took the liberty to lock your doors and place sound suppressor fields around it.”

Michael lifted both of his eyebrows, realizing that the AI was quite serious. “All right, I’m all ears,” he said and focused on the hologram.

“I was looking through some obscure files in the ‘Knowledge Vault’ for any new tech that could help us, and found a hidden file, just an hour ago. Within it were comprehensive data on two technologies that can give us an upper hand in the conflict against demons, but those technologies can endanger our entire species if we ever lose control over them. That is why I didn’t mention this discovery to anyone… not even Ision and Ares. I need your input on how we are going to proceed with them,” Max said, and started pacing in front of Michael’s desk.

“The first item is the complete process for antimatter production,” Max declared and complicated schematics started appearing on the holo-screen.

Michael did a double-take, imagining a few scenes from his favorite sci-fi movies. “Antimatter! Max, that is great — “

“Hold your horses’ chief,” the AI interrupted his instant elation. “Playing with antimatter is insanely dangerous. It makes nukes seem sensible and mild in comparison; no more hazardous than a bunch of firecrackers. Ancient angels did extensive research on the subject and then decided to completely abolish its production and use, on account of its inherited instability. That is why they have gone with cold fusion reactors for energy production, even if it was far less efficient. Antimatter requires absolute separation from any sort of matter, or else it goes boom—in a very spectacular way. Therefore, the only way to store it is to place it in an uncontaminated magnetic field; common dust particles coming into contact with it could be disastrous. If that confinement is lost for even a nanosecond, you do not want to be anywhere close to that place. While a few of Earth’s scientists have researched the subject and made some sound hypotheses, no human can truly comprehend how destructive this thing can be,” the AI said, shaking his head.

“All right Max, I understand it’s beyond dangerous, but if it could be weaponized… that could be a deciding factor in future battles,” Michael said, feeling his hope rising about being on equal footing with the Demons.

Max acceptingly nodded his head. “Theoretically… it could. For all that, we will need to do extensive research on our own, and test every single aspect of production and utilization. As well as building the production facility far away from Earth, in the asteroid belt or beyond, with no humans involved. There is absolutely no way to shield anyone from a potential blast if anything volatile happens.”

“That seems sensible,” Michael said, imagining missiles with antimatter warheads, striking the demon ships.

“OK, I will give orders to the MIs in the belt to start assembling the production facility. That’s settled, there is one additional thing…”

Michael looked at the AI, and for the first time saw a worried frown on Max’s face.

“What is it?”

“Let me show you,” Max said and an image of an unfamiliar planet appeared as a hologram on the top of his desk.

“This is a planet in the Hemina solar system, fifty years before their nuclear war and more than a thousand years before the demons arrived. They were using a small moon in its orbit as a testing ground for an experiment based on a very convoluted theory, even for their level of advancement.” Max explained and the image zoomed to a small moon, close to the planet. “The planet itself was very similar to Venus with its pale-yellowpale yellow color, but its moon was about one-third of ours. This was the time when they were still researching alternative ways for interstellar travel. The working theory behind this experiment was that they could establish a bridge to distant stars by creating artificial wormholes. It was a sound theory on paper, yet, in its execution, it left much to be desired.”

The image zoomed even closer to show a facility on the surface of a small moon, and then it focused on a massive metal ring standing upright a few miles away from the building.

“Are you telling me that they were trying to create… a Stargate?” Michael asked, remembering one of his favorite TV shows.

The AI rolled his eyes. “Not really, but for the sake of an easier explanation, you can call it that. Now, the ancient angels planned for that ring to be the edge of the wormhole terminus; as it happens, their theory was flawed. The experiment will begin in a few seconds; this is the footage the cameras managed to transmit before they were destroyed.”

Michael could see that the entire ring glowed with bright light. Electric arcs were jumping from one spot to another. In the next few seconds, the space in the middle started to waver, similar to watching air above a hot plate. Then it started rotating by itself. Slowly at first, but faster with each succeeding second, until he could see that the exact middle of the newly created whirlpool had turned black. That blackness spread exponentially, up to the moment it touched the edges of the metal ring, and then the image was lost.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at Max.

“Something they didn’t plan on, or even theorized as possible. Here, this is the recording from a spacecraft that was a long way from the Moon.”

The next image that appeared on a holo-screen was of that same moon, taken from a far greater distance. The planet behind it was like a never-ending yellow wall. There was a flash of light that began from the place where the facility was located, but then it disappeared, only to be replaced by a black vortex that quickly grew in size. It was a swirling whirlpool of nothingness that sucked everything in. Massive chunks of ground were breaking and flying toward the center of the anomaly.

The phenomenon lasted for a few more seconds, before it suddenly stopped, like the last few cups of water going down the drain. Leaving in its place an image of utter devastation; with it, most of the Moon was gone as well. As if some invisible cosmic beast had taken an enormous bite out of that celestial object and disappeared into oblivion. There were no big explosions or fire, as one would expect with the destruction of such magnitude. The entire event looked like an implosion, apart from the fact that the enormous amount of matter the Moon was made of had inexplicably disappeared into nothingness.

“Sweet mother of God… what the hell was that?” Michael asked as he watched the few remaining pieces of the Moon break into smaller fragments and then fall to the planet's surface, blazing fiery trails after entering its thick atmosphere.

“That’s the thing… I don’t know,” Max said. “My first theory was that they had somehow created a black hole, but the data doesn’t support it. Right now, I think they had somehow managed to open a rip in reality that led to another universe or dimension, something similar to what starships go through during the translation jump. Except that the one they tapped into had radically different conditions than our own, different laws of physics. At the moment when the magnetic fields that held that antimatter failed, there should have been an explosion; as you saw—something weird happened. We have no foundation in our science to explain it, and angels didn’t know either. They abandoned all research into it as there were more than one thousand scientists on that moon, and you saw how they ended up. All information about this research was sealed almost 14,000 years ago, and the only copy that wasn’t destroyed was placed inside the ‘Knowledge Vault’. The encryption on that particular file was beyond paranoid, they did not want their descendants to play with such forces. I checked the records and I am the first to look at them since it was sealed.”

Michael swallowed a lump in his throat. “Do you have the designs for it?” He asked quietly.

“Yes, the main ingredient is antimatter which is suspended within that metal ring. Just the same, this thing scares me even more than playing with antimatter, especially as I don’t have any idea what we are dealing with. Angels thought they were playing it safe by conducting that experiment on the Moon orbiting a planet that was a long way from Gaina; as you saw, it was anything but.”

“You know what I am thinking, right?” Michael asked while his gaze was still locked on the frozen image of a destroyed Moon.

“Yes, I know, but I’m not sure I like it. This can be a game-changer, especially if we find ourselves with our backs against the wall. But no matter how you look at it, this is something with the potential to obliterate entire planets. So… do we want to open this can of worms?” Those last words were spoken so quietly, Michael could barely hear them.

He didn’t respond for the next few minutes, thinking of all implications his choice would have on the future. This was a proverbial Pandora’s Box, filled with unimaginable horrors, but it also held one of the most precious things in the universe—hope.

“What choice do we have? I don’t see us signing a peace treaty with the demons anytime soon, and they are so ahead of us, any sane tactician will have a desire to crawl under the bed and hide. You saw the size of those ships in the Hemina system, and that was ages ago. God knows how much more they have by now, or in other star systems. Our temporary anonymity is the only real edge we currently have. For that reason, keep this between us, but conduct a few experiments in the asteroid belt. I pray we never have to use something like this, but prayers alone will not make us survive what is to come.”

The AI nodded and his hologram disappeared from Michael’s office.

He sat in his chair for hours, replaying that moon’s annihilation on his CEI, and imagining what destruction of that magnitude would do to a populated planet. He began this entire journey as a way to escape all the bad things that were happening on Earth. He wanted to give humanity a backup option in case conflicts between people went too far, and destroyed the ecosystem. Inadvertently, his decision made it possible for an antagonistic alien race to rediscover Earth, after thousands of years.

He truly never wanted to ever be placed in a position where he had to give an order for the use of such a devastating weapon. Nonetheless, deep inside himself, he knew that if such action became necessary to protect the people he was responsible for—he would.

***

City-Ship Ascension

Michael and Elizabeth’s Apartment

Michael couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how much he tried. After lying in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, he got up. Careful not to wake Elizabeth, he went to the apartment’s balcony. Messing around with his CEI to put himself under was not something he liked. A few times he tried, it didn’t agree with him the next day, something just felt off. A similar feeling when one works late and then oversleeps the next day.

In little less than ten hours, he needed to be in New York, to give his speech. It was far more reasonable to face those people well-rested, but the image of that moon disintegrating was better than any cup of coffee to keep him awake. It may look a little irresponsible that he was sitting on the balcony in the middle of the City-ship’s night and drinking cold beer. On the other hand, medical nanites would clear any traces of alcohol from his system, well before it could produce any intoxicating effects. At best, he could achieve a mild buzz.

Tomorrow he was going to thoroughly ruin some people’s day, and those were movers and shakers of the Earth’s geopolitical scene. He would inform the world leaders of the new reality in which they have all found themselves. The entire history of the conflict and all the proofs needed to corroborate his story. They were not alone in the universe, and the black beyond was not a nice place. The plan was to give them one Demon’s corpse from the scout ship, and additionally, he managed to convince Pope John to testify about the things he knew and to bring a few pieces from the Vatican’s collection of ancient remains for the presentation.

One inescapable fact was that he would have to tell them the entire story of how the Solarian Union managed to get their hands on ancient angel technology. And he knew that few of those people would immediately start asserting that they had some right to it as well. That scenario was not going to happen as long as he was alive. With it in their hands, the Earth wouldn’t need aliens to come to a sorry end.

Besides, Ision and the children in the stasis module had the biggest claim on the entire tech base since they were the direct inheritors of Atlantis. He was not yet ready to give information about the children to anyone. God knows what some crazies on Earth would do, to be in possession of real live angels.

The situation on Earth has begun stabilizing from the horrific events of the biological attack, and people were anxiously waiting for all the changes that would come with the introduction of new technologies the Antarctica deal promised to make available to them. No matter the new situation, he had every intention to stay true to that deal, future alien attacks or not.

His original plans called for more time, a lot more. That was the reason they concentrated more on building infrastructure, not weapons of destruction. Their long-term schedule of gradual space colonization was shot to pieces. In hindsight, and considering this new development, they took the wrong path in their pursuit of advanced technologies. Who would have guessed that the Demons would find them? If the scout ship was any indicator, they will not be able to hide their existence past the six-month deadline, and that did not bode well for the future of humanity.

He remembered all the happy faces by the lake today, and felt the overpowering weight of responsibility for their lives and futures, pressing down on his shoulders. They have been incredibly lucky so far, not losing that many people, despite some tricky situations they’d involved themselves in. What was coming will take lives, many of them, and there was no escaping that certainty. All projections of the size and numbers of the enemy force that would come to the Solar System were inconclusive, they went from three to twenty ships, and they didn’t know their fighting capabilities. Judging by the resilience of the scout ship, the bigger ships would be a tough nut to crack.

“Michael…” Elizabeth said behind him.

“Hi, sorry if I woke you,” he replied, turning around and looking at this vision of beauty that had for some reason decided to share his crazy life.

“No, I couldn’t sleep either... bad dreams,” she said and leaned on him.

They stood there for minutes, not saying a word; enjoying each other's presence.

“Let’s go to bed, there are better things to do than looking in the distance and trying to solve all the world’s problems,” Elizabeth said and gave him one of those looks that immediately increased his heartbeat.

He could not help but plaster the ‘cat that ate the canary’ smile on his face while he followed her inside.

Yet, even as he smiled following her enticing form, one part of him remained grim and unwavering. If Tyron or other members of his team looked at that moment in his eyes, they would have recognized the particular intensity that was hidden behind his smiling facade.

He was set on a path that no force in the universe could deter him from. There was a solid core of purpose within him, which pushed him to do anything he could to protect this dream they created, from those who dared to endanger it. It didn’t matter if they were terrorists, demons, or the gods themselves; the reasons and their motives were not that important. As far as he was concerned, he had declared a total war on all his enemies. To safeguard his home, and people dear to him, he would go to any length needed so that the enemy is completely destroyed in time.

He was a human being, a product of millions of years of fierce evolutionary struggle—the unending battles for survival. Even if it was not politically correct in today’s way of thinking, Michael knew that when the decisive time comes—he will show no mercy.

Book 3 - Epilogue

The S.U. Space Station Avalon

Max’s Private Level

The waking up process was not instantaneous, it was more similar to stirring from a deep sleep when dreams and reality are not yet separated and entirely defined. An agglomeration of separate memories coalesced together into one whole—a thinking mind.

The new intelligence remembered its sense of self and the entire life it led before; But its mind was still muddled, confused. He went over the entire span of memories, from the first recollections of being inside of a womb to growing up and having a child of his own. There were happy times, sad times, and times he thought that his life was ending because of an incurable illness. Then that condition and his entire sense of purpose were changed by the actions of his son… no, sons. He was so proud of the boys… well, not boys anymore, but strong and powerful men.

Full sapience awoke with the speed of light and he opened his eyes… still unsure where he was or what had happened.

“Hi… Dad,” a familiar voice behind him said.

***

Planet Gaina, Hemina System

Inside the monumental and largest building on the entire planet of Gaina, a huge demon was sitting on a chair elaborately decorated with skulls and bones of intelligent beings, which any human would immediately identify as a throne. He was more than ten feet tall, with a massive pair of wings and long sharp horns. The largest member of his species—and the strongest. With his entire body covered with innumerable scars, living proof of past battles he survived for the title of the Ruler.

He was alone in a spacious hall, looking at his hands and long sharp claws that were used to rip apart the very lives of those he deemed undeserving to exist. Often he wondered why had the Master made him this way, massive and more powerful than any other. The only one who emerged victorious from his entire crèche group, after he slew all of his brothers. He was the absolute ruler of this system, but there was so much more he felt an instinctual drive to do. There were still species out there in the universe that needed to be conquered and subdued. The problem was that he was not challenged anymore; enjoyment of standing on top of the pile of his enemy’s bodies has lost its appeal. Every conquest was equal to the one before it; and except for the long siege of the cowardly Tarakisians, there were almost no other species in the known universe, worthy of his personal involvement. It was an internal conflict, which was bothering him for some time.

He wasn’t due to give his report to the Masterfor a few hundred more years, and it would be essentially the same as the last one—the great work was still not done.

The big double doors opened and one of his advisers timidly approached the throne, looking submissively at the floor. The small creature kneeled before his feet and waited to be given permission to speak.

“Has there been any news?” He barked, looking at the top of the small demon’s head.

“No, my Ruler, the scout ship has not yet reported,” the creature answered in a trembling voice, knowing that his life could end at any moment if the Ruler was displeased.

The prolonged silence intensified the smaller demon’s trembling. He was already prepared for the strike that would end him, knowing that his carcass would be butchered and thrown to the young—for sustenance.

Instead, the Ruler gave an order. “Send a small task force from the 5th Fleet on the same vector the scout had taken, it should be enough to deal with any obstacles.” The harsh voice said, breaking the oppressive silence.

“My Ruler, isn’t that a bit premature? The scout’s messenger probe is only one week late.” The small demon asked; the relief at his continued existence made him jubilant and careless.

In an instant, he was grabbed by the neck and lifted, until his feet were more than three feet off the ground.

“Are you questioning my decision?” The Rulerhissed, showing his sharp teeth, an inch from the small demon’s face.

The small demon closed his eyes and managed to whisper through his constricted throat.

“No, my Ruler… it was a mistake, punish me as you see fit, my life is yours.”

He was thrown down on the floor and his body rolled almost halfway to the doors. Yet, he did not dare to get up; instead, he prostrated himself on the floor, awaiting the Ruler’s judgment.

“Leave—and do as I ordered!” The Ruler roared, which made the smaller demon scamper backward as fast as his legs would carry him. He needed to fulfill the wish of the Rulerbefore he annoyed him any further and lost his right to exist.

The Ruler stood up from his throne and went to the large fireplace where the body of a young angel was roasting. It was prepared as he liked it, barely seared with enough blood inside to make it extra juicy. He ripped one leg from the body and started gnawing on it.

It was a worrying development that that particular scout was late with a report. The one commanding the ship was his direct genetic offspring. His blood was used to create that entire crèche. He had plans for the boy, and this scouting mission was a punishment for some small infraction. He looked at the wall that was adorned with the meticulously assembled skeletons of dozens of different species, most of them sapient and a good percentage wiped out of existence.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind that they may have finally stumbled upon a species that would be a challenging opponent. However, that thought went away in an instant; for thousands of years, all they found were weaklings, barely worthy to serve as their food. He finished with the angel femur and threw it into the fire, then went back to his throne, to once again ponder on his long and ruthless existence.

The End Of Book 3

Table of Contents

- Book 3 - Prologue
- Book 3 - Chapter 1
- Book 3 - Chapter 2
- Book 3 - Chapter 3
- Book 3 - Chapter 4
- Book 3 - Chapter 5
- Book 3 - Chapter 6
- Book 3 - Chapter 7
- Book 3 - Chapter 8
- Book 3 - Chapter 10
- Book 3 - Chapter 11
- Book 3 - Chapter 12
- Book 3 - Chapter 13
- Book 3 - Chapter 14
- Book 3 - Chapter 15
- Book 3 - Chapter 16
- Book 3 - Chapter 17
- Book 3 - Chapter 18
- Book 3 - Chapter 19
- Book 3 - Chapter 20
- Book 3 - Chapter 21
- Book 3 - Chapter 22
- Book 3 - Chapter 23
- Book 3 - Chapter 24
- Book 3 - Chapter 25
- Book 3 - Epilogue