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The Spartan Chronicles - Volume 3

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  • At Sea

    "…this is the stupidest idea I have ever heard in my entire life," Kirsten stated, her arms crossed across her chest in defiance. "I've seen a lot of stupid things in my life. Unity was a good idea run amuck, run by a bunch of well meaning but incompetent bureaucrats. Dee's trusting Yang was another. Bless her, she didn't have much choice. And I won't even start in on that old fool Zak against Santiago. We all pay for our idiocies, and this is idiotic; sending two Morgan 'professionals', a sassy bible-thumper, a googlie-eyed, half-trained Gaian boy, and a crabby old woman and her pet against the Aliens."

    Kirsten stared at Rider, daring him to say a word in reply.

    Rider, for his part, stood quietly in front of the irascible old woman, who had been recommended as an 'old salt' who knew more about native life than any non-psi adept was supposed to. In her bio she had bone almost everything, like most Landers had, from farming, to pure science, administration and, recently, crèche leader at Garden of Paradise.

    This is not starting well, he thought as he let the silence deepen. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

    "First, delivering out 'package' to the Alien is hardly a stupid idea, since it has been approved at the highest levels. Simply put, it is important to the Axis. Second, I have to tell you that you were all selected for this mission for a purpose. Each of you has special skills that we will need, since we are going into totally unknown territory. We'll need your jack-of-all-trades skill," he said, nodding toward Kirsten, "and understanding of native life to cross the expanse of fungus we'll have to cross to get to the Alien settlements. My partner here will provide a little expertise in 'materials management…"

    "Explosives, and nanos. Don't beat around the bush, Rider," Alice stated in monotone.

    Rider smiled a little.

    "…nanos and explosives, then. Sister Jessica and Private Jay Fredrickson will provide our psi shield, and act as our extra sensory eyes."

    Jay shifted uncomfortably. His eyes darted between the looming man Rider, his new mentor Kirsten the 'Mindworm Lady' and the beautiful Sister. Between all these distractions, and the fact that he was the lead empath, he was all tied up in knots inside.

    "…and you need to know that on our way we will be meeting the sixth member of our team. I've been instructed not to reveal this person's name, but you'll probably be surprised," Rider continued.

    "Now lets move on to the briefing room. You have probably heard a lot about the Aliens, and much of it is likely to be false. MorganLink 3D Vision is not known as a paragon of accuracy during sweeps week. Please follow me," Rider said as he led the lithe group out of the room and deeper into the hollow-out interior of the Isle of the Deep.

    Jessica dutifully followed, noting that she really didn't have much choice. It did seem like a motley team, and while the two Morganites seemed detached and professional the Gaian contingent seemed unhappy. First, Kirsten was close to belligerent. And the young man Jay seemed ill at ease. Jess wondered if it was her imagination that he seemed to surreptitiously glance in her direction fairly frequently.

    As she considered, the roughly cut passage descended. Was the Isle that big, and that deep? After a moment Jess decided it was really too hard to tell since she had lost all sense of direction long ago. Between the twisting corridors and the Song that was always at the edge of her consciousness she was more than a little disoriented.

    Jay hurried up to get behind Jessica in the queue, with Alice in back of him. Kirsten and Fluffy pulled up the rear. Fluffy, at least, seemed to be having a good time, since he was darting about at an almost frightening pace, bouncing up the walls like they were racing ramps and generally getting on Jessica's nerves. After about five minutes Fluffy, mercifully, disappeared. Shortly thereafter Jessica stopped short. Something was oozing out of the wall! It looked like hamburger being extruded out of the business end of a meat grinder, and it flowed and flowed. The little pink blobs hit the ground, reformed, and Fluffy was off again, tearing around the hallway and getting in everyone's way. Now Jessica was annoyed.

    In the back Kirsten smiled.

    +++++++++++++

    A bitter wind howled, making the slight mist that was falling even more unpleasant and cold. Jessica looked around the fungal wasteland, not liking what she saw. Strange, unnatural shapes erupted in clumps for as far as the eye could see. Most of the fungus was less than waist high, but some formed continuous forests. All of it was pinkish, with hues ranging from bluish to gray. The gray sky and heavy mist with a little fog didn't help either, making the fungal plain seem even more threatening.

    It didn't help that Jessica was dead tired, both physically and mentally. Hiking through the fungus at an almost reckless speed took a lot of energy, and it didn't help that she and Jay had to be 'on' almost all the time. Jay had been helpful in honing her 'seeing' techniques, and always had a useful analogy to help Jess 'get it'. But he was so shy and quiet Jess didn't quite know to make of him. She was really tempted to 'peek', but after the fiasco with Rider she decided it wouldn't be a good idea, and Jay was an empath, and more skilled than Jess by far.

    Alice and Jay came up to relieve Jess and Rider. Jess nodded and clambered down to their makeshift camp. The little pink domes were at least dry, and the beds were comfortable. After the exertion of the night, when they traveled, Jess had no trouble sleeping. It was just that she had a shift during the day, and never seemed rested with her 4 hours of sleep.

    The one person who seemed unphased by all this was Kirsten. She seemed right at home in the fungus, and had a knack of finding the most disgusting looking things and preparing them for meals. But, even if they looked absolutely awful, they were generally quite good, either because of their form or how Kirsten prepared them. On more than one occasion Kirsten has served a meal and was obviously watching everyone's reaction as the little bowl's contents writhed as if trying to escape. Jess remembered almost throwing up. Kirsten picked up her bowl and ate with relish, explaining about the gelatinous goo with a long set of technobabble about biologic harmonics and something about resonance, whatever that was. Strangely enough, after you got over the fact that your pink pudding was moving it was actually delicious, even if it did seem to fight going down…

    Jess hiked herself over a one and a half meter diameter fungal limb, and down the little trail to camp. Off to the right she could see Fluffy darting around, always in constant motion. Out here in the fungus he was not nearly as irritating, and Jess was even grateful for his presence since he would do more than anyone else if a wild mindworm appeared.

    Her little fungus-shaped dome appeared, and Jess activated the airlock, which cycled open soundlessly. Jess crawled in, waited as the airlock and atmosphere exchanger cycled, and then crawled into her cubby. In moments she was asleep.

    +++++++++++++++

    Jess blinked a couple times.

    She felt distinctly uneasy.

    What was wrong?

    Jess didn't wait for answers, but inserted her picobreathers into her nostrils and used the emergency cycle. As she did there was a 'pop' as the Chiron atmosphere rushed in, disturbing her blanket and a few of the belonging and supplies.

    The vague threat was growing, and Jess felt it was toward the south. Jess made her way as quickly as she could through the forest of fungus and spongy undergrowth.

    Coming on a low clearing Jess stopped, both physically and mentally. There in the clearing Fluffy was fully involved in what appeared to be aerial acrobatics with a smaller mindworm. Whereas Fluffy was generally ovoid and compact, the feral mindworm was irregular, with stringers of worm tendrils extending out in at least three directions. The tendrils were reaching toward Fluffy like daggers, but Fluffy seemed to anticipate the basic attack and expertly darted to the side or under the spearing action.

    Jess watched in admiration. Little Fluffy, who could be so incredibly annoying, had the grace of a dancer and his fast, darting movements were obviously practiced, since he was clearly outmaneuvering this feral.

    Jess opened her psi a little, and tried to 'see' the worms as they danced with each other, to the death. Although she could just barely understand and grasp the meaning, each mindworm seemed to emitting pulses of energy in wave fronts. When a pulse reached Jess she was filled with angst and terror as each bored into her consciousness. Jess shuddered to think what these pulses would do to a normal human that didn't even have her rudimentary shields. By now she would have curled up into a ball in terror, while the worms descended.

    Each pulse did affect the mindworms, though. As each pulse hit the other mindworm the worm became a little less cohesive. Maybe it disrupted its magnetic fields? Or killed some of the worms that made up the collective sentience? It was hard to say. All Jess knew for sure is that little chunks of the feral mindworm were being blown off or were disintegrating, whereas Fluffy wasn't taking nearly as much damage. Finally, the feral's tendrils were all severed, and its core ball was noticeably smaller. Fluffy darted right, and the feral's ball sluggishly flowed right. In a move that Jess had trouble following, Fluffy changed direction almost impossibly fast, formed a giant dagger, and speared into the center of the feral.

    There were a series of loud popping sounds, and there was an explosion of pink and gray pulpy flesh, some of which impacted on Jess. The feral seemed to expand like a blooming flower with the force of the explosion, and then each of the pedals unfurled and sank to the ground.

    In the center was Fluffy, largely undamaged.

    Then he did the strangest thing. He flowed toward some of the pulpy patches, which still had some resident worms in the oozy mess, and he absorbed them. He continued to flow over the tattered remains of the feral and, when he was done, he was noticeably bigger.

    As she watched Kirsten walked into the low fungal field, smiling broadly.

    "Good job Fluff! I loved that dagger double back, just like we talked about! Poor bastard didn't have a chance against the mighty Fluffy!

    No, you can't eat another now. You've had quite enough. It'll take you while to get to know your new worms, now won't it? Yes, I thought so. Yes, I know it was fun, and really, Fluff, you shouldn't play with your food like that."

    Fluffy's grayish pink form was a compact ovoid again, and he was apparently finished absorbing feral wormlets. He zipped toward Kirsten and coiled around her feet, pulsing a little.

    "Yes I know she was watching. She doesn't hate you, at least not anymore. No, you can't eat her! Aren't you full? Really, Fluff, you are such a glutton! You need to work it off. Go find Jay. I'm sure he will be impressed with your stunning victory. If you hurry you might catch him when he's not looking!"

    At that Fluffy perked up, and formed a little head. A second later he darted off toward the little observational rise they had chosen for today's lookout. He had a new mission: to ambush Jay. Again.

    Kirsten watched him go, shaking her head a little. Then she looked up and at Sister Jessica, who was at the edge of the clearing by a heavy branching fungal tree.

    "Well, what did you think?" she said, walking toward Jessica.

    "I…don't know. I've never seen mindworms fight before. Or any mindworm attack, for that matter. All I have to say is that I'm glad he is here, and that he did a great job."

    Kirsten got within two meters of Jess under the branches of the tree, and stopped, turning toward the battle had taken place.

    "I'll tell him you said that. He is pretty sensitive and doesn't like empaths. The only ones he has warmed to are Dee and Jay. Why he likes Jay I don't understand, but I'm not complaining. I'm not getting any younger, and Fluff could live thousands of years. Both are really a good kids, you know."

    Jessica couldn't help it, and her question kind of blurted out. "Dee? You mean Lady Skye?"

    "Yah. I call her Dee, like all the landers. She was more practical then, and hadn't been hurt as much. The Lady part came a lot later. I think Lal gave her that moniker, and I think it was a compliment. Now she's stuck with it, although it must gall her egalitarian spirit."

    Kirsten looked over at Jess, and her eyes squinted a little.

    "Hold on. I'll be right back," she said.

    Jess watched her as he ripped at the dark gray soil at the base of the fungal tree, poked at its root stem, then grabbed a finger-shaped mass, which she removed with a sharp tug. Standing again she broke it in two, smeared it on the back of her hand and then added a touch of dirt.

    "Come here. You're bleeding," she said, looking up from her hand.

    Jess moved forward, and Kirsten gently but firmly took her left arm and turned it to the side. She took the fungal rood and smeared the broken surface on a cut that was bleeding vigorously on the back of Jess's arm.

    "A iron parasite must have just dropped off. You need to check yourself every time you turn in for bed, and several times a day. I've seen he-man Spartan soldiers die from blood loss without even knowing it from a little limpet-shaped worm. Be next careful next time."

    As she smeared the icor on the wound Jessica felt a slight sting, but nothing more. In seconds the blood flow stopped.

    Jess notices something else. Kirsten's gruff manner had completely fallen away, and was almost motherly, even warm and friendly.

    Jess reached out and gently touched Kirsten's shoulder, and she looked up.

    "Thank you, and God bless you, Kirsten," Jess said, meaning every word.

    "No problem. Now let's see what those worthless men are doing. Hopefully Alice is keeping them in line, or they'll do something stupid that will bring the entire alien army down on us."

    With that Kirsten started walking through the fungal woods, and Jess followed.

    Overhead the sun was breaking through.

    Maybe it'll be a good day after all Jess thought hopefully.

    Comment


    • UN Criminal Tribunal

      Zakharov packed the last of his belongings as he glanced at the clock above the holoscreen. In less than an hour, their flight would be taking off and they would be headed towards Morgan Industries. Zakharov still didn’t know what to expect when they got there, however he longed to leave the confines of this base. An irrational fear plagued him, that if he didn’t leave now, somehow Lal’s offer would be revoked.

      A buzz from the comm system sounded, and Zakharov crossed to the terminal by the door to answer it.

      “Pardon for the intrusion, Provost Zakharov,” the voice said from the speaker, “but there are three visitors to see Miss Sharra.” Since Sharra had yet to adopt a second name, her given name often served in both capacities.

      “That’s strange, I wasn’t aware she was expecting visitors. Send them up.” Zakharov found it somewhat puzzling, but Sharra had already made several friends in their time together, some of which Zakharov did not approve. In particular, her continued association with Sister Jessica and her curiosity in regards to Miriam’s religion were troublesome. Still, Sharra was her on woman and could see who she liked.

      “Sharra, your visitors are here,” Zakharov called so as she could hear him in her room. She emerged from the room, her belongings packed and a puzzled look on her face.

      “Did they say who it was? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” This troubled Zakharov a little. Sharra was now a public figure, largely do to her constantly being by his side during the trial. It was not uncommon for greed people to try and take advantage of such influence. Zakharov thought it best to remain in the room until he had ascertained that she was safe. Besides, they had to leave in a few minutes, so the visit would have to brief as it was.

      The chime sounded indicating that someone was at the door, and Sharra moved to open. When she did, she could not have been more surprised if Chairman Yang had arrived with a box of chocolates and an apology for all that had happened.

      There was a woman, with long blonde hair and an uncomfortable look on her face, a tall dark skinned man who looked somewhat like she imagined CEO Morgan might look, at least judging from the holos. All three wore Spartan military uniforms, but only one did she recognize.

      It was William. She couldn’t believe it, after all their time apart, there he was, looking almost the same as he did the last time they were together. If anything, he looked more charming and more handsome than the first time they had met. A strange sadness rested in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, but even as she stared at him that sadness seemed to slowly melt away.


      She felt a pang of guilt as she stared speachless through the doorway at him. Since she and Prokhor had earned their freedom, she had not tried to contact him. She tried to rationalize it to herself, realizing the unbelievable events that worked their way into her life had left her with little time for a personal moment. A lack of funds had kept her at UN Headquarters in her only free time.

      Suddenly she realized that nothing had been said since she opened the door, she had shown nothing to express how happy it made her just to see his face, and how her heart melted all over again inside of her. A tear rolled down her cheek, but for the first time, in a long time, she wasn’t crying for grief or pain. She couldn’t remember a moment when she had been so happy.

      Ever so gently, William stepped forward, leaned down and kissed her. Sharra felt herself melting into his embrace, and the world and everything dissolved around her. There was only him.

      Somebody cleared his throat behind her and Sharra, suddenly realized it was Prokhor. She was too happy to be embarrassed though, but William reluctantly pulled back from the embrace.

      “This moment is rather touching, if not a little curious,” Prokhor began, “but we have a flight to catch. Perhaps you would care to join us, and we can explain things on the way?”

      ************************************************** *************

      The needljet transport lifted off the tarmac, with the five new traveling companions being the only passengers. Kirstie and Brad, who had now been introduced, sat to one side, while Zakharov sat next to William and Sharra who had remained glued together since the moment at the hotel.

      “This is far to generous of you Provost. You really shouldn’t have done this.” Will had found his voice at last, and the immensity of what the former faction leader was doing for them had begun to sink in.

      “Nonsense. For one thing, it is not me who is paying for this. It’s CEO Morgan. And besides, Sharra means a great deal to me, and it appears you make her very happy. I wouldn’t dream of denying that to her.” Zakharov couldn’t help but smile, the joy of the young couple next to him was contagious. That Sharra could find such happiness allowed Zakharov to put his own troubles to the side, if just for a short while.

      “The real question is what we are going to do with you once we get to Morgan Industries,” Zakharov continued. “Now, as of yet, I have not assembled the entourage that I am entitled too. Quite frankly, it’s because I dislike the entire idea. So here is my proposal. You William, will stay on as my body guard, and your friends as well, if they like. That way, the position is filled, but not by some suck up who is just looking to impress me. At the same time, your expenses are covered, and I have the delight of stealing three of Santiago’s own soldier for my defense. What do you say?” Smiles all around indicated that the answer was a definite yes.

      Zakharov leaned back into his chair, as the youngsters began to chat excitedly amongst themselves, and he breathed a sigh of relief. If he couldn’t have his true family with him, at least he could find friends. Now if only there was someone his own age...
      -Argo

      "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

      Comment


      • Morgan Transport Jet 473, En route to Morgan Industries

        Roze leaned back in her chair, and watched the holoscreen in front of her. She felt much more relaxed now that the Spartan situation had been dealt with. Roze could still hardly believe that Santiago had allowed her own Department of Counterintelligence to be corrupted like that. It made her worry what other long existing leaks there were in the system. It made her remember the early days of Planet, when Morgan Industries was a tiny little base, as opposed to the sprawling expanse it now was. Roze could remember when their was actual native life within walking distance of the base. Now you had to leave the island.

        ************************************************** *************

        Sinderella Rosaline leaned back in her chair and removed her retinal projector, rubbing her tired eyes. She had spent the entire day tracking down some punk kid who thought it was fun to crash crucial systems on the MorganNet Network. She had been bombarded by complaints, people who were threatening to sue for damages, her employers informing her that if the vandal wasn’t caught, she should have her desk emptied out by noon tomorrow. There was an endless supply of messages, all of which served as nothing more than a distraction from catching the culprit.

        What frustrated her more was that, she wanted to be doing what the kid she was trying to catch was doing. He hadn’t caused any real harm, but everyone was so uptight about business, and profit margins, that they forgot that sometimes kids would be kids. And she didn’t care if they got mad at her, or fired her even, because she hated her job and everything it stood for.

        Her official title was MorganNet Q&A manager, but she referred to it as the person who made sure that no one in Morganite territory ever had any fun on the Net. The Net was for business, not pleasure. She was constantly forced to shut down sites that were deemed unprofitable by the MorganNet Advisory board.

        Essentially, it came down to restriction of information. MorganNet only displayed the information that the government wanted people to see. If hundreds of people were killed in the latest mindworm attack, it would be bad for business, and therefore not appropriate for MorganNet. If, however, the latest Morganite flame thrower had managed to kill a few of those mindworms, well then, let the ad campaigns fly!

        In essence, MorganNet was nothing but a huge propaganda machine for CEO Morgan himself. The whole thing made Roze sick, but computers were about the only thing she was good at, and so she was stuck there.

        “Hey Sindy!” Rosaline shuddered at that name. She hated her full name enough, but that irritating shortening from the girl in the next cubicle order caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

        “What Betty?” She didn’t even try to disguise her dislike for the girl. With people like Betty, it unfortunately didn’t seem to matter.

        “Did you hear the news? They’re going to try that kid you caught as an adult. That means he’s probably going to spend time in a Punishment Sphere. I guess you’ re going to be seeing a big bonus on your next paycheck, huh?”

        Rosaline ignored Betty’s bubbling enthusiasm, her fingers clenching on the arms of her chair. Trying a kid as an adult, for such a pathetic little crime. And all because she had been the one to catch him.

        Rosaline snatched up her retinal projector, and accessed MorganNet. Rosaline had officially had enough.

        ************************************************** *********************

        SYSTEM UPLINK....WELCOME TO MORGANNET!
        ...accessing...query: Morgan Industries Power Bureau...location found...loading...
        WELCOME TO MORGAN INDUSTRIES POWER BUREAU! HOW CAN WE BE OF SERVICE?...
        run program: rBetaSevan...program not recognized...manual override...
        MIPB CENTRAL GRID. ENTER COMMAND:

        shut down...

        PASSWORD REQUIRED:

        roze...attach file : rviral2...

        PASSWORD INC-...SHUT DOWN IN THIRTY NANO CYCLES.

        ************************************************** *********************

        A few moments later, all the lights in Morgan Industries went dark. By the time power was restored five minutes later, Rosaline’s desk was empty.
        -Argo

        "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

        Comment


        • Sea Hive

          Knowing others is wisdom; Knowing the self is enlightenment; Mastering others requires force; Mastering the self needs strength.
          Tao te Ching, Datalinks


          Sheng-Ji Yang paused, considering the honored Confucian scholar from so long ago. As with all true wisdom, the simple and profound statement's meaning changed with circumstance and time. Yang remembered the last time he had meditated on Tao te Ching 2.86 Chiron years ago. At that time, he recalled clearly, he thought he was wise and knew the other leaders and factions: Morgan was a weak willed man who lived for pleasure, and would sacrifice anyone or anything to maintain it; Santiago was a woman of steadfast temper and resolve who's Spartan underpinnings were weak, and her Junta fractured; and Lal was so bound by his adherence to human rights he could never effectively defend them.

          Of course, Yang had thought he knew himself. He had only to look upon his vast and quickly growing empire, bigger than all the rest, which had already cowed the effete Morganites, and had twice the productive resources of the Spartans. The Circle ruled what was not seen, working steadfastly to cripple and subvert the weaknesses of other societies, doing them a service by pointing out their weaknesses. Hive scientists were rapidly ascending in their ability to understand the mysteries of science and society, and were within a hare's breath of overtaking the previous masters of research, the Morganites, who ascended to that thrown after the decadent University was toppled by the Spartans. Technologically the Spartans were still profiting from conquering Zakharov, and had make almost no significant progress on their own. Everywhere Yang looked he saw a reflection of himself, and how his discipline of the self had shown itself to be more powerful than self-indulgence, myopic love of weaponry, or human rights.

          Indeed, it was Tao te Ching that had seemed to suggest the next step: the mastery of others. Thus, with the Hive ascendant he had thought the time was right to continue in the campaign to save humanity and give them the gift of discipline. Of the other factions, the Spartans appeared that they had grown soft as they absorbed the old, decadent University ways, seemingly forgetting their martial past. They fought themselves in petty inner political wars under the chimera of Democracy that the Hive would never have tolerated. With every passing year they more closely resembled the guileless Peacekeepers.

          Then war for mastery of others started. And it had gone so wrong.

          The Spartans proved they had not lost their martial edge, and used their temporary technological lead to great advantage. The Gaians, supposedly vanquished, had appeared out of the mists, and had reasserted themselves diplomatically and then militarily. But most critically, Morgan had proven not to be as weak as Yang had judged him to be, nor was he cowed by the superior Hive society. His treachery and subversion of two loyal Hive bases, and theft of this Chiron's first planetbuster, had been the beginning of the end. Lesser betrayals had occurred when Domai revolted, and then, against all odd, Miriam was freed from her Hive re-education, which she stubbornly refused when all others had finally come to understanding.

          So much had gone awry, and the war for mastery had been a disaster.

          But was it the end? No, Yang decided, it was not. While there was time the end was never truly at hand. The Aliens will be a shield, Yang vowed, until he had finally marshaled the strength of mastering himself. Tao te Ching was, of course, correct and Yang now recognized his arrogance: to truly know one's self you must first master yourself, and then you can attain wisdom by knowing others and only then, and only then, is the true mastery of others possible.

          This was the flaw, Yang saw - he had not truly mastered himself and, therefore, his wisdom of others and his depth of enlightenment was deeply flawed.

          Yang contemplated, his smooth brow unexpectedly furrowing. Yes, he knew himself, and his desires. He had spent almost two centuries in the effort to know himself. But was that mastery? No, it is not, for Tao te Ching clearly makes a distinction between knowledge and mastery. To know something is not the same as controlling or mastering something. Could mastery refer to the physical? Is having control of your body mastering yourself? No, the body is simply a shell that houses an electrochemical process, and nothing more.

          Then what is the mastery of self?

          Mastery is the next step after knowledge. It is taking the knowledge about yourself and using that knowledge as an agent of change, since in that way the understanding can be put into action. That is the difference between knowing yourself and mastering yourself: knowing is passive and mastery is active.

          How do you master yourself?

          To master yourself you must change yourself, growing what must be developed to achieve your goals and ruthlessly destroying what hampers the achievement of your goals.

          But what are my true goals?

          For Yang this was simple: his goal is the unification of humankind, and the assurance of its survival in the cold, uncaring universe. Fragmentation and disunity is the root cause all of humankind's woe, and the penalty for disunity is death, as evidenced by the sad fate of Earth. The universe exacts a stiff price for on unfit or unfortunate species - extinction. Humankind only escaped its folly by a stroke of fate. There is no kind or even vengeful god to protect humans from their poor decisions, or even solace in ideals is a poor reward if the result is the failure of humankind as a species.

          How can I master myself to ensure my goal, the survival of humankind, is achieved?

          The simple answer is the partial answer. Dedication and discipline must be augmented, and arrogance and indulgence eliminated. This will allow partial mastery of self, and a certain one-ness with humankind.

          The full answer, Yang knew, was less clear, and the path toward complete self-mastery was obscure. The threats to humanity must first be assessed. This list, upon a quick mental check, was long, although several threats stood out: disunity and, strangely, the over-arching threat of extermination from the Aliens, whose motives were not clear.

          With that realization Yang was troubled. Sheng-ji Yang now understood how much strength this would take.

          Self-assessment is the start of change, which initiates self-mastery.

          Then the process of self-mastery can begin.

          Comment


          • Morgan Industries

            Roze dropped down from the tiny hatchway, in between the two security doors to Morgan’s Private office. She loved doing this to him, just because it kept him on his toes. She knew he didn’t really mind too much, as he rarely included any significant upgrades to the system after she had broken in.

            Behind her was the large synthmetal blast door, beyond which was the security desk and the two armed guards. Long ago she had found her way through a series of maintenance shafts, and crawl spaces to the area of ceiling in behind that door. This only left the identification security devices to be dealt with. For Roze, those were a piece of cake.

            Initiating Authorization DNA scan:... UPLOAD PROGRAM ROZEMORGANZETA...

            Authorization DNA scan: affirmed –– subject is Nwabudike Morgan Senior, official title: Chief Executive Officer of Morgan Industries and all Subsidiaries.
            Bioscan ––... MANUAL OVERRIDE... no anomalies detected
            Nano scan –– 14 medical nano types present, positive contact of unauthorized nanos
            Entry denied. Alarm Activated.

            What the hell!!!
            Roze couldn’t believe it, even as she heard the klaxon beginning to sound and the light above her beginning to flash. Behind her, the door opened and the surprise on the two guards’ faces was mirrored in her own as she realised she had been caught.

            What the hell did it mean by unauthorized nanos???? Roze only allowed the most common of medical nanites to be present in her system. How could any of them be unauthorised!

            The door opened behind her, and Morgan Junior emerged to see what was going on. After taking in the scene, he relaxed, realising what had happened. Of course, the computer terminal in the office would have informed him of the nature of the alarm, but having not been informed of an arrival, Junior had been curious to know who had got past the guards. He showed little surprise that it was Roze.

            “Good evening, Miss Roze,” he said with all his father’s charm and formality. “It is all right officers. This lady is a guest and known to my father.” The guards looked somewhat unsure, but they left and closed the door behind them anyway.

            “So the legendary Sinder Roze has been tagged I see,” he said with a broad grin on his face. Roze marvelled at how close the resemblance was to his father. Roze had always thought Morgan Sr. was an attractive man, but he was far too ‘old’ a character for her to be interested on the other hand. Of course, Roze was old enough to be Junior’s mother, she just made sure she didn’t look like it.

            “What do you mean tagged?” Despite Junior’s charm she was annoyed. To be caught was one thing, but now she found herself not knowing what Junior was talking about. It was clear some sort of tracking device had been placed on her, and the fact she didn’t have any knowledge about such a device whatsoever made her furious. Roze always hated it in when other people knew things she didn’t.

            “Nanotag,” he stated simply, as if that clarified everything. It was clear he inherited some of his father’s arrogance as well. “They home in on a specific person’s DNA, and follow an infintesimle distance behind. Then they gather data on the subjects environment and transmit it back to the control computer. The technology was developed by Yang, but Paul Andreas so to it that counter-measures, and our own NanoTags were developed here as well.”

            Paul. Roze could feel her jaw clenching as he teeth pressed together, holding back the impulse to yell. There was no doubt in her mind who had been keeping tabs on her.

            “How do you get rid of them?” She asked with her teeth still clenched in frustration.

            “Here,” Mogan stepped into the small security check room with her, closing the door to the office behind him. He punched in a series of codes into the keypad and then paused. A moment later, Roze felt all the oxygen being sucked out of the room through vents in the floor, and a new blast of air coming through the duct from which she had entered. Junior pressed the a few more keys, examined the read-out and smiled at her. “All clear.”

            “Thank you,” she said smiling. Not only had he gotten rid of the tags, he had showed her the way in which they could be removed. She would e-mail Kat and have her begin plans to install such facilities at Data DeCentral.

            “You are most welcome,” He returned with that same charming smile. He opened the door behind him, and once again turned to Roze.

            “You are welcome to come in if you like, however, my father is currently away. He has gone to meet Provost Zakharov at the aerospace complex.” Roze suddenly perked at this.

            “Zakharov is here now? I actually would appreciate a chance to talk to him.”

            “That could be arranged. I’m supposed to meet my father and him at the York Hotel for dinner later. Would you care to join me?”

            “And miss the opportunity to see your father’s face as his prodigal son arrives with me on his arm? I’ll be there will bells on,” she smiled.

            “Excellent. Dinner is at seventeen hundred hours. May I pick you up at about, quarter to, say?”

            “I’ve got something else I need to do first, but I’ll make it quick. You just be ready. I’ll come here and pick you up.” With that Roze climbed up through the shaft and disappeared.

            ************************************************** **************

            Authorization DNA scan affirmed –– subject is Paul Andreus, official title: Morgan Industries Trade Minister
            Bioscan –– no anomalies detected
            Nano scan –– 14 medical nano types present, negative unauthorized nanos
            Meme biological scan –– negative
            Brain pattern sync 99.7% with archive data - within allowable parameters
            Entry authorized.
            Welcome, Paul.

            Roze entered the room after the brief change of atmosphere and looked around Paul’s quarters. She had not had any problem with Paul’s security, finding it no more difficult than Morgan’s would be now that the nanotags were removed. The lights were dim, and the place was empty as Roze had expected.

            “Hello love...” The hologram stopped in it’s tracks at the sight of Roze. “You’re not Paul. How did you get in?”

            “Don’t worry, I’m an old friend of Paul’s we go way back.” Roze was unsure how sophisticated this AI was, however if she could trick it, then it might save her a great deal of difficulty in the future.

            “That’s funny,” she replied without a trace of humour in her voice. “I thought you were Sinder Roze, judging from your profile.” Apparently this wasn’t going to be as easy as Roze thought.

            Roze made her way to the terminal, and hooked her datajack into the system. Before Adee could even move to stop her, she had isolated the program, frozen it, and had begun to download it into her own portable terminal. Roze’s MMI allowed her to interface with Paul’s computer so quickly, that Adee’s AI instincts were unable to react in time. Adee winked out of existence within Paul’s apartment, all of her memories and existence now stored in a chip on Roze’s hard drive.

            Roze had hoped to do it with less trauma to the AI program, however the situation had been unavoidable. Roze was not so inhumane as to destroy something with such emotional value to Paul, however she had no problem with removing it temporarily as payback for his actions.

            Roze then accessed Paul’s holoprojectors and prepared for her next little surprise. Once she was in, she downloaded her own little program which she had created. It was a holographic AI of herself, designed as an added torment for Paul when he returned.

            But of course, that was not going to be enough for Roze. Smiling, she made her towards the fridge.
            -Argo

            "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

            Comment





            • Great Conclave








              Sven Alfredsson couldn't help but smile at Miriam's old-fashioned
              habits as the Sister unlocked her desk and handed him a set of
              hardcopy dossiers. While Miriam knew how to use and operate
              modern technology, and appreciated its capabilities, she seemed
              to hold a personal aversion to it.



              Miriam saw Sven's expression and half-smiled wryly.



              "Yes, I know, Sven. Obsolete, as Sister Jessica keeps reminding
              me. Have you ever seen one of these?" Miriam asked as she held
              up a thin, square piece of plastic.



              "No," Sven replied after scouring his memory.



              "They used to call it a 'zip disk' back on Old Earth. It holds
              approximately 0.001% of the capacity of an optical data crystal."
              Miriam explained. "But, on the other hand, this method of
              storage is very hard to steal from, because it's not hooked up to
              any network, and I would wager that no probe operative would even
              recognize what it is."



              "So that holds confidential information?" Sven asked.



              "No, actually it's a German translation of the Conclave Bible.
              Since that's a dead language here on Chiron, I don't know why I
              bother keeping it, but it's one of our few physical artifacts
              that survived the fall of New Jerusalem."



              "At any rate," Miriam continued briskly, "those files hold the
              dossiers of our probe candidates for you to train. All but one
              of them have arrived already at Great Conclave; the last one,
              Captain Michaels, is due to arrive shortly from Sparta Command,
              where he was assisting Sinder Roze."



              Sven flipped through the dossiers, nodding to himself in approval
              from time to time while Miriam waited quietly. He could see that
              a good number of the candidates had been attached to the Spartan
              military, and were therefore combat-trained. There were a few
              civilians in there as well, with various scientific and computer
              skills of use. Finally, he looked up at Miriam.



              "Sister Miriam..." Sven hesitated only a moment. "You do realize
              that to do the sorts of things we were hoping via covert
              operations, that theft, blackmail, even assassination may be
              required?"



              Miriam nodded gravely.



              "I do realize this, Sven. It is difficult to accept, on
              principle. And it must not be something we undertake lightly.
              Only the most devout and devoted of the Believers can, I believe,
              survive and resist the moral corruption that threatens. We must
              be vigilant, and seek constant guidance through prayer.



              Next day








              Fourteen men and women rose respectfully as Miriam Godwinson
              entered the room with another man following close behind her.



              "Please sit, my friends," Miriam requested. "This isn't Sparta,
              and I am not your superior officer."



              No, thought Sven as he watched the physically unimposing woman
              address the probe operatives, but she's their minister, their
              leader, and their inspiration. Each and every one of them would
              die for her willingly. Few generals can command such devotion.



              As the small assembly sat, Miriam took her familiar place behind
              the pulpit.



              "More than two thousand years ago, the early Christians went
              forth from old Jerusalem to spread the Word. They travelled the
              reaches of the known world, and although they faced many
              difficulties - persecution, imprisonment, and martyrdom - they
              succeeded in the holy task that was set before them."



              "In modern times, we face a similar task and trials. Though the
              song of yesterday fades into the challenge of tomorrow, God still
              watches and judges us. Evil lurks in the datalinks as it lurked
              in the streets of yesteryear. But it was never the streets that
              were evil."



              "No, we face evil in the hearts of those who hate God and His
              works. We face it in the godless, soulless society of the Human
              Hive. We face it in the alien demons incarnate who feast upon
              human flesh. We face it in the unholy Circle, who seek to own
              the minds, souls, and spirit of humanity."



              "These are powerful evils. I shall not lie to you; some of you
              will be imprisoned, tortured, or killed in the upcoming
              struggles." Miriam caught and held each of her audience's eyes
              for a moment as she said this, then continued.



              "But we must have faith. Unlike our enemies and even our allies,
              we do not fear death, for we know that death is not the end, but
              only the beginning of the everlasting life hereafter. And
              although we shall pass through the valley of death, we shall fear
              no evil, for the spirit of the Lord is with us always."



              At this, a few of the small crowd murmured the traditional (and
              genuine, Sven judged) "Amen", but Miriam raised her hand to
              indicate she had more to say.



              "One more thing. You must always remember that you are in the
              service of the Lord. Some of you may well have lost loved ones
              in various conflicts or Hive purges. You must put your anger
              aside, for what you undertake on your missions you will do in His
              name, as His instrument. Moreover, you must put aside any
              prejudices you might have. You will end up taking instructions
              both from our intelligence director, an empath, and our new
              director of operations, a cyborg. If any of you cannot do this,
              speak honestly now and you will be judged honest. Otherwise, I
              expect you to respect their authority and judgement implicitly.
              Miriam looked at each and every candidate, fixing them with an
              iron gaze as one by one they nodded in acquiescence.



              Miriam turned from sermon to briefing.



              "Sister Jessica McCollough, our intelligence director, is
              currently in the field. However I would like to introduce you to
              our new Director of Covert Operations, Sven Alfredsson.



              At the announcement, one or two of the Believer operatives looked
              merely curious, but Benjamin Michaels' eyes widened in awe, and
              then several of the others followed suit as a whispering murmur
              of exclamations filled the room. Amongst the older Believers who
              knew their own history on Planet, Sven was a legend whose stature
              was only exceeded by Miriam herself. Believer children were
              often told that Saint Sven had demolished an entire platoon of
              Hive infantry with his bare hands (false) and that he had staved
              off a mindworm incursion single-handedly (true).



              "As you were." Sven raised a hand for silence and was granted it
              instantly.



              "Thank you, Sister Miriam, for your words. It is our job, ladies
              and gentlemen, to move from words to action, and believe me, we
              shall. But it's going to take work. Here's how we'll begin...."



              As Sven continued to address the Believing probe trainees, a
              memory of a similar address to the other Independent Mercenaries
              came to him, and along with that, an idea.



              If most of them are still alive... could I summon the League?
              After all these years, would they be divided like the factions
              they served became? Or would they come together if I summoned
              them? It'd be one hell of a team.



              Comment


              • Morgan Industries

                In the world around them, a war raged that could see the end of civilization as they know it. But inside the luxurious halls of Morgan Industries, the people seemed completely oblivious.

                The day to day lives of the citizens, residents of the most important economic centre on Planet, remained untouched by the war. They went about their daily routines, spending money and, more importantly, earning it.

                This is not to say that the Morganites were ignorant to the goings on of the world. Far from it. During the day, Morgan News Net provided extensive coverage of every skirmish, victory and defeat that happened. The Morganites had become almost entirely responsible for keeping the citizens of the other Axis factions up-to-date in recent events. However, night time, at least at Morgan’s Headquarters, it was an entirely different situation.

                Every night, news broadcasts were restricted to private channels, unless there was a critical emergency. Everywhere there were parties, celebrating in a grandeur unlike any Planet had ever seen. Every restaurant was packed to capacity, and everybody who was anybody in Morgan Industries was on the town for dinner at the vary least.

                It was at one such party, at the Hotel York to be exact, where Provost Zakharov now found himself. He had not been exposed to such elegance and extravagance for so long, that it all seemed a little too much. Of course, this was the deal he had accepted, and indeed fought for, and therefore he must adjust to his chosen surroundings.

                The table itself was large and it included some prominent company. CEO Morgan was there himself of course, along with his Intelligence Operator Paul Andreas. A man who had been introduced as Morgan Reilly, head of Morganite research and development, was also present and was apparently to be Zakharov’s liaison while working here. There was also an empty chair for Morgan’s son, who was expected to arrive shortly. Sharra and the others had gone to another party, which was to be less business oriented.

                The person that fascinated Zakharov the most though, was the woman seated next to Paul Andreas. She was unbelievably beautiful, with medium length blond hair and shining blue eyes. But, it was not the girl’s beauty that attracted him, but the cybernetic implants visible on her forehead, and apparently located on other portions of her body as well. She had been introduced as Prime Function Aki Zeta-Five, the leader of a Cybernetic faction which had arisen on the Spartan-Peacekeeper border. The thought of such a merge between science and humanity was an obvious lure to Zakharov’s nature.

                “So tell me Prime Function,” Zakharov spoke, having to project louder to be heard over the live band playing near the entrance hall, “how did you happen to come and join our merry band?”

                “I had orginally been assigned to work with Governor Allardyce at UN Headquarters. However, when Brother Lal returned he found my that position created for me was “not necessary” and so I was logically dismissed. It is likely that some emotional resentment remains after our usurping his facility as our home base.”

                “It is quite bold, don’t you think, to admit to stealing the facility from Lal? Wouldn’t it be better to rephrase it, more... politically?” This was Morgan who spoke now, for this was also his first personal encounter with the Cyborg leader.

                “To do so would be illogical CEO Morgan,” she replied with startling candour. “We assumed command of the facility without Brother Lal’s permission. To claim otherwise would serve no purpose.”

                Zakharov found her even more fascinating having listen to her speak, than he done before. Her logic skills were phenomenal. True she lacked a little in a bedside manner, but to Zakharov that was a mute point.

                Before he could question her further, the band struck up a herald indicating that a prominent guest had arrived. At such an announcement, all the guests at the restaurant looked to the entrance hall to see who it might be. Most were not surprised to see that it was Morgan Junior, especially seeing as his father sat at the main table. However, the appearance of the woman at his side caused an audible gasp amongst many of the patrons, including a few seated at the main table.

                She was dressed in a sleek black dress the clung to her figure. The neck was cut low, and was decorated by a multi-diamond studded necklace. It flowed down into an empire waist-line, and stopped just below the knees, with a long slit up the side showing a glimpse of her beautiful, dark legs. It was Sinder Roze.

                Morgan and Paul practically gawked as Roze and Junior began to make their way down towards the table, as do many of the other male diners at the restaurant. The women were green with envy at the beautiful dress and her place on the arm of the most eligible bachelor in all of Morgan Industries.

                All the men at the table stood up, the old Earth custom of chivalry not dead even this far away from its origin. Roze smiled broadly as she was introduced to those she didn’t know. Paul noticed a faint twinkle in her eye, and her grin seemed to broaden when she looked at him. It made him feel very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

                Zakharov shook hands with Junior and stared at Roze with a puzzled expression on his face.

                “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” he asked her.

                “I’m afraid you do,” she replied apologetically, taking a seat, and finally allowing the gentlemen to be seated as well. “I’m the one who delivered you to Yang.”

                “I knew you were familiar,” he smiled, finally relaxing. “Don’t fret dear. The Hive might not have been my personal choice for escape, but you got me the hell out of that Punishment Sphere. All’s well that ends well, I say.”

                “Anyways,” Morgan interrupted, getting the conversation back under his control. “The question of the evening appears to be directed to you Prokhor. How are you going to stop Yang’s fleet?”

                “I can’t stop the fleet Nwabudike, that is up to your’s and Santiago’s troops. But with time, I should be able to counter-act the effect of his new weapon.”

                “Time is one of the few things of which we have precious little, my good Provost.”

                “I understand that Morgan, but there is only so much that can be done. If I had my old files, then I could promise it to you within a week. However, all of my research remains locked up in Yang’s computer with no way to get at it.”

                Morgan seemed somewhat resigned at this, knowing that Zakharov had spoken the truth. The only problem was, he wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough. So far, Yang’s Resonance Fleet hadn’t reappeared, but when it did, it would be practically impossible. Morgan had lost all the ships of his Third Fleet, with barely a scratch on Yang’s forces. Now, with Yang’s new Maritime Control Centre, Morgan wasn’t sure if that Fleet would be stoppable.

                “What if I told you that those files weren’t just in Yang’s computer, but mine as well.” This was Roze that spoke, and she succeeded in grasping the entire tables concentration.

                “How the hell?” Paul began, breaking off before he could finish his sentence.

                “What do you mean Roze?” Morgan asked. He had little patience for her dramatic personality sometimes.

                “I created a downlink from Yang’s computer when he refused to pay me for delivering Provost Zakharov to him. It’s since been terminated, however, not before I was able to download all of Zakharov’s log files. The only problem is they’re encrypted and I can’t seem to break the code.

                “You mean there’s something the infamous Datajack Roze can’t do?” Paul asked, with no attempt to hide the sarcasm.

                “Quiet Paul.” Paul fumed at Morgan’s rebuke, his contempt for Roze growing more and more.

                “Can you get me these files, Miss Roze?” Zakharov asked.

                “No problem. I’ll have my assistant send them to me first thing in the morning.”

                “In the mean time,” spoke up Junior, “let’s all enjoy the party.” And they did. All except for Paul who couldn’t shake the feeling in his stomach that something was seriously wrong.
                -Argo

                "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

                Comment


                • Progenitor Continent

                  Sister Jessica had to turn away; it was just too gruesome. Fluffy was darting around and inserting larvae into the bodies of over 50 Alien soldiers, soldiers that he had paralyzed with shear terror or overloaded neural systems. His method was quick and precise. At each body he would position is compact form over their upper torso, would seem to pulse a few times, the body under him would tremble a little, either in pain or shock, and then he would move on. Each operation took no more than a few minutes.

                  Even though the Aliens looked like the devils and demons she was taught to be terrified of as a child, Jessica couldn't help but feel sorry for them, and feel guilt at her complicity in their sad fate. She had helped Fluffy, along with Jay and Kirsten, to box the Alien exploratory garrison in, setting them up for the kill. Even though they looked like demons, she knew they were intelligent creatures, and, in the end, that they were part of God's creation. Where they fit in that creation was a topic of hot Believer debate, and would probably always remain so. However, Jessica found such discussion a little like debating how many angels can dance on the head of a needle: it doesn't clarify the topic, only brings up more questions, and gets the interested parties worked up to the point of hysteria. In the end, God's mind is unknowable, and a true Believer trusts in Faith. In Jessica's mind it made sense that the infinite God could grace the universe with more than one intelligence, even if they looked like Lucifer's spawn.

                  "Sister?"

                  Jessica turned toward the voice and saw Jay approaching.

                  "Looks like we're almost done here, and…" Jay paused. "Are you all right?"

                  "I'm fine," Jess said, glancing toward the carnage.

                  Jay followed Jess' gaze.

                  "Oh, that. Don't worry about it. It's all part of the natural life cycle of the mindworms."

                  "I'm not concerned about the mindworms right now," Jess interjected a bit hotly. "They seem to be doing just fine. I'm looking at the aliens. They were intelligent beings, Jay. And it wasn't natural. We directed Fluffy to do it and, because of us, these 50 Aliens are going to die horribly. I'd seen holos of them of them before, and they look intimidating, but I didn't think I'd meet them, not like this. "

                  "Well, you're right about the directing part," Jay countered. "But this is one of three ways mindworms procreate so in that way it is natural. Plus, they probably would have killed us. Look at those weapons," Jay said, pointing toward one of the nearest soldiers. Although the grips were different than most human weapons they were pretty huge, it couldn't be mistaken for anything but a version of an assault rifle. "Remember what they did to the Spartan Argonaut air squadron? And there are rumors from the Hive of Alien atrocities that would make even Yang blanch."

                  "I suppose," Jess commented.

                  "Anyway, Rider asked me to find you. We're leaving, since the Aliens are going to find out their patrol got whacked pretty soon, if they don't know already. Come on. We have to leave, now," Jay said emphatically and impatiently.

                  Jay turned to leave. Jess took one last look at the aliens, lying in the low fungus in positions of surprise or pain as they were overwhelmed by Fluffy's psi.

                  Hurriedly, Jess turned and followed Jay. Even at this distance it was evidence that this drama wasn't over.

                  Some of the Aliens were still visibly breathing, and Jess could feel some of their mental and now physical agony as the worms gestated and the hatchlings starting eating their way in and out. Jessica shuddered, thinking that Alien nightmares are even more terrifying than any Jessica had seen in a human.

                  *************

                  "What the h**l is that?" Kirsten asked, oblivious to Rider's previous order to keep quiet.

                  Everyone else was thinking the same thing, but was too stunned to say anything. Through multiple viewpoints the group could see huge aircraft with strange lines of symmetry, each with a singularly threatening cannon-like projection on the front. While gunships were not exactly rare in Chiron's skies while world war raged, these airships were new. First, each airship was an aerodynamic elongated ovoid, the nose of which was slightly narrower. This shape wasn't too new or surprising since the laws of aerodynamics apply even to aliens, it was just that it looked so alien, almost organic. Second, there was no cockpit or observation dome, its hull was a uniform and featureless silvery gray. Third, it had no wings, and its body was simply smooth. But lastly, there were no fusion thrusters or any other kind of propulsion, nor were there rotors: it just floated soundlessly through the sky, effortlessly moving at accelerations and with an angular momentum that the observing humans were sure would render any occupants inside the craft into the alien equivalent of toothpaste. One moment the sky was clear, and the next the silvery ovoids simply appeared.

                  "Shhhhh," Rider said absently to Kirsten, absorbed by the spectacle.

                  "Where's the flyeye?" Kirsten demanded, "and how can we see this angle? It's looking up at the aliens. We have to be about 15 kilometers away now."

                  Alice commented, "Nanos in the fungus. Industrial grade, classified source."

                  "Oh," Kirsten grunted. "How does it work?"

                  "Classified," Alice stated in a be-satisfied-because-this-is-all-you-get tone.

                  Kirsten was clearly annoyed since not being used to being dismissed. Here irritation slowly dissipated as she watched the dozens of miniature holos of the aircraft and massacred alien patrol that played in the air of their bivouac tent.

                  A total of three of the silvery ovoids had arrived at the site of the prone alien patrol. Two were sleek with what appeared to be cannon-like projections on the front, and the third was much larger but no less maneuverable. All of them had appeared in a heartbeat, stopped with no appreciable deceleration and then hovered motionless above the carnage of twisted and barely alive bodies. After ten or so minutes of indecision the two smaller craft pivoted in opposite directs, their 'noses' pointing outward in what appeared to be a defense stance. The larger central airship slowly settled to the ground.

                  At about three meters above the fungus the larger airship stopped, and a few of the fungal sensors looked up to see bay doors opening in the base of the ship's hull. The nano sensor wasn't perfectly aligned, but it looked like the base of the ship simply evaporated. Moments later a dozens of armor-clad aliens bounded to the surface, immediately taking a roll-and-crouch advance stance as their fellows poured from the bay.

                  Absently, Rider said, "It's either a transport or a bomber."

                  In alternating waves, the troops advanced, making their way through the fungus with practiced ease. When a thick stand of fungus stood in their way one of them took out a rifle-like gun, similar to those of the human team had seen on the alien patrol, which was unleashed. From what the viewing humans could see, there was no blast or recoil. However, the fungus did a combination of crumpling, exploding, or vanishing.

                  "Holy sh*t!" Alice murmured as she watched the radiating waves of pulverized fungus erupt, her normally implacable demeanor gone. Neither she, nor anyone else, had seen anything like it and Alice, as a demolitions expert, had seen a lot.

                  Jay looked over at Jess and caught her eye. He raised an eyebrow. Jess remembered his offhand comment back when the aliens were being 'processed' by Fluffy about their weaponry, and she nodded very slightly to acknowledge him, not wanting to miss the advancing spectacle of the alien troops. Two of the holos went blank as the fungus they were not integrated into were torn apart.

                  Now clear of obstacles or threats, the Alien troops formed around the first group of the stricken garrison patrol. Two soldiers broke off and went to the nearest prone Alien, keeping their guns trained on him and approaching cautiously.

                  "Looks like they don't want to be worm food, too. Some worms gestate quickly, and are ready to pounce if someone approaches their host. Looks like they have learned, maybe the hard way," Kirsten commented.

                  "Hmph. More likely they're just following some military approach protocol," Alice added.

                  In three views from different angles, one of the soldiers approached the prone one, attached a small metal device to the apparently living body. After waiting a few moments, the body seemed to levitate off the ground and floated by itself to the open bay of the ship. In a methodical fashion the soldiers went around to all the prone bodies, examining each, attached more devices, and the bodies, one by one, made their way to the ship and ascended into its bay.

                  While the rest or the humans watched, fascinated, by the ongoing display, Rider turned away and looked at Alice. Alice was absorbed in a small display screen, not the alien's retrieval of their garrison. Every once in a while she would tap at a device she held, assess the results on the screen, and then tap again. Rider looked back at the holos, noticing that the soldiers had processed about half of their mates and were rapidly working their way to the rest.

                  Breaking the silence, Alice exclaimed happily, "Bingo!"

                  Rider turned again, "Already?"

                  "Yup! Didn't take long, did it?"

                  The rest of the group looked around, confused at Rider's and Alice's obscure exchange.

                  "Well, we're done. Pack up. We're leaving."

                  Kirsten was now annoyed at having no clue what was going on. "What do you mean, leave?!! I thought we were supposed to 'infiltrate the Aliens for the good of mankind.' What happened to that? You mean we have one little scruff with the Aliens and we're bugging out? Have those pretty ships of theirs made your balls retract?"

                  If Rider was put off or insulted by Kirsten's now familiar acidic comments he didn't notice. "No, I mean our mission is accomplished. Ambushing the patrol was part of the plan, and why we needed both you and our psi team," Rider explained, nodding toward Jay and Jessica. "Remember how I had both Jay and Jessica form a blanking shield prior to and after the attack? And how Alice and I inspected almost every one of the Aliens after Fluffy took them down? Well, we were doing more than inspecting the bodies. We were infecting them with nanos, like we did to the fungus. The nanos were designed at Morgan Industries, which has the best research and development labs on Chiron, with the help of Shannon Lindly, our Gaian research liaison. It turns out that the Gaians have had considerable luck in sorting out the ancient technology of the Manifold Nexus, which has given us new understanding of both Planet and, interestingly enough, Alien physiology and technology, which the nanos are designed to evolve to. Although I couldn't tell you at the time, we never intended to go to an Alien city, since that would be foolhardy. All we had to do is deliver the nanos to an appropriate host, and then hope the Aliens brought the nanos home. It looks like they're doing that!"

                  "Excuse me for being dense, but infecting those poor wretches doesn't infiltrate their datalinks," Kirsten challenged.

                  "Oh, yes it does," Rider replied. "Or, I should say, it might if the nanos aren't located and eliminated. The nanos are programmed to infiltrate and, in effect, build what the Gaians call a 'long wave resonance network'. Don't ask me what it means. Ask Shannon.

                  But, we have to go. If they locate the nanos they'll suspect, or know, there are intruders. After seeing their aircraft I don't want to be around if they are looking for us. So, Jess and Jay, start demobing the ultras, Kirsten try and find Fluffy. He always seems to be somewhere else…"

                  "Except when you need him," Kirsten interjected, dryly.

                  "Yes. Right. Alice and I will take the final readings. I want to be gone in 30 minutes."

                  Rider stood up, the holos still playing out. As the now well-honed group broke up for their tasks they all knew they were missing the rest of the spectacle. But risking the chance of that strange ovoid ship catching up with them just wasn't worth it. There would also be plenty of time to review the holos during the hike and ride home.

                  ******************

                  "Jess, where are you going to go when we are done here? Back to Great Conclave?" Jay asked as he and Sister Jessica disassembled their ultralight domes and collapsed their equipment.

                  Jess looked over at Jay and noticed an eager expression on his face.

                  "Sister Miriam expects me to return when I am done here. In fact, she assigned me to this mission so I could learn from the best, although I suspect she also wanted me to meet people like the Morganites and you and Kirsten. You're the first Gaians I've spent time with."

                  "Oh," Jay said as he bundled their second dome. "I've only taught you a little about being an empath, and I know there are masters much better than me at Velvetgrass Point. You are pretty good. Would you like to learn more? At Velv, or another Gaian city?" Jay asked hopefully.

                  Jess couldn't help notice the longing in Jay's voice, and his almost plaintive tone. What was he really asking?

                  "Would you like me to go with you Jay?" Sister Jessica asked diplomatically.

                  "Well, sure!" blurted out. Then he shrank back a little, perhaps thinking he had been a little too enthusiastic.

                  Jessica smiled. Jay was more than a little shy, but was really a nice boy. No, she corrected herself, he is a man.

                  "I'm sure I could learn a lot from a few Gaian masters. I really don't know much about your religion…"

                  "Being a Gaian is a religion," he stated defensively. "It's more of a philosophy. We don't worship Planet, and we don't dance naked through the trees, like Yang always says in his propaganda broadcasts. Well, we can if we want to," he finished awkwardly.

                  "Kirsten told me much the same, even if I don't understand the conviction. Maybe you and Kirsten can explain it to me on our trip home? It's likely to take at least as long as it did getting here, about two weeks. As to whether I can go to a Gaian city to train, that is up to Sister Miriam."

                  Now it was Jess' turn to be uneasy, since returning to Great Conclave meant the start of her trial for being a witch. Now that she thought about it, being associated with Gaians, which some Believers thought were the worst sort of Pagan, would not do her case any good under Biblical law.

                  Jess finished the last tent, and hefted it onto her back. There was almost nothing to it, and it was hard to believe that it contained an airlock and its own atmospheric control. Leave it to Spartan ingenuity to in military hardware.

                  Now Jess grinned to herself, since she could feel Fluffy sneaking up on Jay again. Jay, as usual, was oblivious, or maybe he pretended to be.

                  "HEY!!!" Jay yelled, as he feet were suddenly mired in a pinkish gray colored living molasses. Fluffy was oozing out of the fungal mat they had set up camp on. It looked solid enough from about a half meter away, but on closer inspection it, like almost all fungus, was laced with a tracery of holes and crevices - perfect for mindworm travel and attack.

                  Jess tried to restrain her laughter as Jay fought against pink swell, but he gradually lost as Fluffy helped him lose his balance. With a yelp Jay fell into the swirling pink mass, which positioned itself under him so it broke his fall like an electrostatic pillow.

                  "FLUFF!" he barked as Fluffy took off and floated down the hill. As he went Jay hurriedly reached out and grabbed a couple of packs, still sitting in Fluffy as he charged down the rise. After a while he gave up and accepted being hijacked by a mindworm.

                  "Hey, Jess. I guess Kirsten sent him to get us to get a move on. Better hurry!" Jay yelled as he and Fluffy disappeared around a low stand of fungus, Jay actually laying on Fluffy like he was a giant cushion.

                  "Ow!" Jay yelped in the distance. "Watch the fungus! Hey, I know I can duck! I don't care that Kirsten says that I'm uncoordinated. You're carrying me. Yes, I know I'm slow, but I'm a human and have to walk. No, I don't want to be a mindworm…"

                  Sister Jessica chuckled to herself as Jay's voice receded to the north. Luckily Fluffy and Jay had picked up most of the remaining equipment, leaving little for her. Almost like someone planned it that way. Kirsten?

                  Being alone for the first time since her temporary exile from New Jerusalem gave Jessica time to think. First, the native life that Kirsten knew so much about was more fascinating and intricate than she had ever imagined, and both beneficent and truly dangerous. Second, regardless of the bombastic rhetoric of die-hard Believers she knew, people were people, even worldly Morganites and the Gaians with their strange and possibly pagan beliefs. And third, she felt she had grown a lot in this adventure and had only developed the bare minimum of her abilities, but felt that she had reached an impasse. To go further may compromise her Belief, or her ability to be accepted in Believer society. Jess, however, knew that Sister Miriam would know the correct path, and the best way she could serve her and her people.

                  Could she go back to Believer society now? Of course she could, and looked forward to it. There was something profoundly satisfying about an early morning Mass, or the pure, ethereal beauty of a Bach choir. Still, she would miss the casual freedom of the Gaians, and the exuberance of the Morganites. There were Believers that relished their freedom, but it was more of a freedom within God's grace, and exuberant Believers were generally confined to revivals.

                  As she got to the base of the hill she noticed the rest of the troop was redistributing the packs, which would free Fluffy to do his thorough patrol as they trekked north toward the sea. Rider and Alice were busy, and Jay and Fluffy were still, apparently, having their private discussion. Kirsten noticed her first and waved her over.

                  "Well, took you long enough!" she said in a gruff but friendly manner. "Let me take that extra pack from your arms. There! Now, let's go," she said, offering her arm as she slung the pack on her back. "We have a long walk ahead of us, so we have plenty of time to talk."

                  The rest of the troop, including Jay and Fluffy, who had made up, were now pacing northward through the two-meter tall fungal forest. It was getting toward twilight, which is when Rider liked to travel.

                  "Now, where was I when we left off? Yes, I remember. It was the Trail of Tears, just after the Morganite rovers obliterated my town in the beautiful area north of the Great Fungal Wall…"

                  [This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 05, 2000).]
                  [This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 12, 2000).]

                  Comment


                  • Morgan Industries

                    The group that had now assembled in the Research Hospital of Morgan Industries was no where near as celebratory as they had been at the hotel last night. With the new day came the remembrance that there was a war to be fought and work to be done.

                    The group was assembled around Roze and Zakharov who were currently receiving the transmission from Kat at Data DeCentral containing Zakharov’s files. Normally such a procedure would be simple, however, in order to main the security of the Data DeCentral facility, a series of relays had to be used to transmit the data.

                    The group was impatient. Morgan glanced at his chrono-band regularly, thinking of all the energy credits that were being lost do to this inefficient practice. Junior seemed to be infatuated by everything Roze did, another point of worry for Morgan.

                    Paul in the meantime made no point of showing that he would rather be as far away from Roze as possible. Something had passed between the two since last night, although Morgan had no idea what. However, it was obvious that Paul had not slept well last night.

                    Reilly seemed to still be in awe of the presence of Zakharov, listening with baited breath for the old scientist’s every word. Morgan couldn’t help but wonder if Reilly knew of Zakharov’s track record, and whether he would idealise Zakharov’s former research “techniques”.

                    Then there was Zakharov’s aide Sharra, and the rest of the Academician’s entourage. The three Spartan guards were simply standing there, but they nonetheless made an imposing presence. Even if they were young, most people would think twice before confronting the Provost with those three around.

                    Finally there was a familiar chirp, and a series of scrambled characters filled the screen. Roze leaned back, her job now complete, allowing Zakharov to take over.

                    “So you were not able to crack this old University code? It is really quite simple.” Zakharov seemed to be challenging Roze somewhat, as though he were testing her to see how good she actually was.

                    “Well, I was able to get it this far,” Roze said as she tapped a few keys and the screen changed to a series of random incoherent words.

                    “I picked up this key word,” she said highlighting the first word in the program. Navajo. “I assumed that it was they key, at that this was actually coded in the old Earth Navajo language. Unfortunately I couldn’t find an extant copy to translate form.”

                    “Navajo is a red herring,” Zakharov said with a smile. Obviously the old man had designed the code himself, and enjoyed that his trick had worked. “Impressive that you should do so well though. I commend you.” Apparently, Roze had still passed whatever test he was planning for her in his mind.

                    “If you simply run this algorithm, combined with a standard decryption run,” and with a few quick keystrokes, the scrambled message disappeared and screen after screen of information opened before them. Both Roze and Paul seemed to be hit by a wave of recognition, but Morgan could not understand why. It didn’t look as though Zakharov had done anything.

                    Reilly seemed more fascinated by what was on the screen, rather then how it got there. His eyes widened as he got a glimpse of all of the information that flashed by in front of him. It was astounding.

                    “You did all this, in that little amount of time?” He was clearly taken aback by the Provost’s genius, even more so than he had been before.

                    “Well, I received some assistance from one of the Progenitors, but yes. For the most part I accomplished this all myself.” Reilly was stunned, especially at the mention that Zakharov had not only been in the presence of, but spoken with, one of the Aliens. To members of the Axis, they still held an element of fantasy as they had not been seen in person yet.

                    “This is all well and good,” interrupted an impatient Morgan, “but what does it mean for my research?”

                    “It means that not only can I give you the schematics for Yang’s latest weapon, but within a few days I can develop an armour to counteract it’s devastating effect, making it pretty much useless.”

                    Morgan smiled. By the end of the week, Yang’s new toy would be obsolete.

                    ************************************************** ******

                    Deep Community

                    The Spartan garrison at Deep Community faltered. They weren’t equipped for this. They had no real armour, no real weapons, nothing to hold back a Hive invasion. They had thought they were safe here so far from the front line, that there was no chance Yang would strike here. The fires burning all around seemed to indicate otherwise.

                    The strange rippling sound came again, as the tachyon beams from the Hive Fleet once again lanced out at the garrison’s position, causing more explosions and more deaths. There was no way they could hold out much longer.

                    Already, there one hope, the ship under construction in the harbour, burned, half sunken at the dock it had never left. Three days earlier it had still been at the safety of the shipyard. Now it lay useless, it’s mighty guns never having fired a shot.

                    As the Hive ships drew closer, the garrison knew that the end was drawing near. There was only a handful of them left, their shredder pistols were out of ammo, and their position offered them no real defence. One more shot from a Hive destroyer would probably finish them.

                    Then a new sound attracted their attention. It was the battle cry of human voices, this time coming from the base. But this wasn’t the cavalry charing to the rescue. There was no cavalry on Planet.

                    The garrison turned to see an army of angry drones and citizens charging their position with whatever weapons they had been able to get their hands on. The base was revolting. The Hive citizens who had lived under the Spartan occupation were incensed by the sight of the Hive fleet. They fought now for their liberation.

                    ************************************************** ***************

                    The Hive Fleet pulled into the harbour, Chairman Yang’s Ying-Yang Banner once again flying proudly over the base. Deep Community had been liberated, and all the base’s citizens had risen to the surface to welcome the Fleet. They hoped that soon a transport would come bringing a garrison to defend them from Spartan retaliation. The response they got from the Hive admiral could not have been a greater disappointment.

                    There was to be no garrison. The Fleet would be pulling out the next day. The base was on it’s own. Hive citizens held prisoner were released, and a base governor was appointed. That was to be all the assistance that was to be provided. The base was expected to restore the order of Hive society, and raise a garrison for their own defence. There were no troops to spare.

                    The next day, a crowd assembled and watched as the two destroyers and three foils of the Resonance Fleet pulled out of the harbour, heading north towards the Spartan mainland. There was no elation this time at the sight of the ships. Only disappointment and resentment.
                    -Argo

                    "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

                    Comment


                    • Roze downloads double post!
                      [This message has been edited by Argonaut (edited October 09, 2000).]
                      -Argo

                      "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

                      Comment





                      • Personal Diary of Jessica McCollough



                        And so we seem to have completed our mission, mostly due to the
                        Morgans' technology, and Fluffy. The former is incredible and
                        far more advanced than anything we Believers have, but at least
                        one can intellectually accept it as a logical evolution of nanite
                        technology. But if I hadn't been here myself to see, I would
                        never have believed what the Gaian mindworms - or perhaps
                        this
                        mindworm, if they are individuals - can be capable of.



                        No doubt Provost Zakharov would be shaken by how ineffective even
                        the most advanced of technologies is against a mindworm's mental
                        energies. And Santiago will no doubt be most interested in the
                        military implications of my report, if in fact she doesn't know
                        already. But for myself, what has astonished me is the...
                        mentality of Fluffy.



                        It has been over a hundred years since we Believers have had
                        contact with mindworms, and those were native creatures. That
                        they are dangerous is common knowledge. But we, like most people
                        on Chiron, assumed they were unintelligent predators, if
                        mysteriously complex. Even Zakharov thought this, judging from
                        that Lab Three incident in the early years. The truth, as is
                        often the case, seems to be much more complex. The Gaians seem
                        to have solved a good portion of this mystery, and only now do I
                        feel... privileged to begin discovering a taste of this truth
                        myself.



                        It's also humbling. We humans like to believe that the universe
                        operates on a set of universal physical principles, and that
                        these principles may be deduced and discovered. We like to
                        believe that we
                        understand the way the universe operates, because
                        we like to feel that we are in control. As a Believer, I should
                        know better, but as a social scientist, I often feel the same
                        way. Then along comes something that threatens to upset the very
                        foundation of our knowledge. At such times, all we may have left
                        is Faith. I'm reminded of one of Sister Miriam's sermons:



                        Men in their arrogance claim to understand the nature of
                        creation, and devise elaborate theories to describe its
                        behaviour. But always they discover in the end that God was quite
                        a bit more clever than they thought.



                        It's clear to me that "Fluffy" quite clearly is at least somewhat
                        intelligent. It... "he"... is certainly capable of understanding
                        communication, and of playful behaviour. Although it seems
                        physically impossible, his aggregate mindworms are somehow at
                        least as sentient as one of old Earth's dogs or dolphins. In
                        larger aggregates, would mindworms be even more intelligent? And
                        what of the neural net fungus?
                        Something or Someone was singing,
                        and if it could only be heard in my mind, it was still real.
                        Jay, that is, the young Gaian empath, called it "Planetsong".
                        Perhaps it is no more than the Gaians' religion to attribute a
                        spirituality to the entire Planet, but it is clear that they know
                        something we do not. Perhaps the old University academics, the
                        U.N. bureaucrats, and the Morganic merchants see it as no more
                        than new age mysticism, but we Believers, who profess to seek God
                        in all the works of His creation, should know better. How can we
                        deny the sin of pride, if we are unwilling to admit that there is
                        infinitely more to know of God? If we are unwilling to admit
                        that the Gainas might understand something we do not? We should
                        know better.



                        I want to know better. And yes, I want to hear the Planetsong
                        again. I cannot believe that something so beautiful did not
                        originate from God.



                        As for the Gaians themselves, they are at the same time somewhat
                        like I expected, and somewhat different. Kirsten knows more
                        about... well, just about everything, than any University
                        professor, or, dare I say it, most of our Ministers. And despite
                        her crusty attitude, I can tell that she's a genuinely kind and
                        caring human being. And Jay, for all his youth, is far more
                        practiced and natural with his psi abilities than I am, which is
                        somewhat embarrassing. It's also hard to think of him as a
                        soldier; he seems far too quiet, introspective, even gentle. I
                        know the Gaians preach pacifism; I suspect Jay would feel more
                        comfortable driving a 'former than an assault rover, but if he's
                        a reluctant soldier, still he knows his duty.



                        I find myself liking both their company much more than I would
                        have expected. Returning with them to Velvetgrass Point seems
                        much more appealing than a trial at Great Conclave. But, like
                        Jay, I know where my duty lies.


                        Comment


                        • Central Chiron Sea

                          "A toast! To a successfully completed mission! And to a glorious future for mankind!"

                          Rider raised his glass, and the rest of his troop did likewise. Rider took the first sip. He favored a cured fungal gin, which was definitely an acquired taste, typically reserved to landers or post-landers, who got used to it since there were no other spirits available in the early history of humans on Chrion.

                          "Here, here!" Alice yelled, already well down the road toward alcohol lubrication. Normally reserved, all of her defenses came crashing down when she went on a binge, showing just how professional she was when she wasn't 'taking a break'.

                          Jay raised his glass, which had his favorite Gaian beer, brewed with carefully conserved hops that only the Gaians had thought to save in the early years of starvation. He had a tentative but growing smile, being a little uncomfortable.

                          Kirsten had no such reservation, and was enjoying the moment thoroughly. Her glass had what amounted to flavored sparkling water, and when asked mentioned something enigmatic about 'giving it up for Lent 160 years ago'.

                          That comment passed over everyone's head, except for Sister Jessica, who wondered if Kirsten was a Catholic, or maybe a lapsed Catholic? Or maybe it was her difficult sense of humor coming into play? It was hard to say.

                          Jessica herself had a light and fruity wine that Rider had suggested to her. He assured her that it was not grown in the great, commercialized vats somewhere in a Morgan factory, but from a little winery he frequented in Peacekeeper territory. It seems that many of the experts and niche savants seemed to gravitate toward the open and accepting Peacekeeper society, whose rich pantheon of regulations protected everyone from intrusion, even if it lead to what others considered to be a mind-numbing bureaucracy.

                          Rider took a leisurely drink, and the others did likewise. Alice threw hers back with a gusto, belching loudly and appreciatively when she drained her glass. No one seemed to notice or mind.

                          "I'm happy to report that the nanos are doing fine, and have already infected their city we have now found out they call Spires: Ascendant, whatever that means. That's really all I can say for now, since other information is of a classified nature. I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you," Rider quipped, the cliché eliciting groans, except from Alice, who, in her cerebrally-limited state thought it was hilariously funny.

                          "Seriously, well done. I don't know what we'd have done without Fluffy," Rider continued, looking around for the elusive mindworm. True to form, he wasn't around, unless you needed him. "Kirsten, I hope you'll thank him for me."

                          "Thank him yourself. He'll be around soon. He's hunting right now," Kristen said matter-of-factly. Rider's eyebrows went up, wondering what he was hunting on a Gaian Isle of the Deep. Hopefully not humans!

                          Kirsten grinned, enjoying his consternation.

                          "And of course you, Kirsten, have been invaluable, with your seemingly unnatural know-how about fungus and its terrain. Our trip would have taken twice as long, and would have been significantly more hazardous without your help! A special thanks to both Jay and Sister Jessica. I don't think you realize it, but if you hadn't have put up the blanking shield the Aliens would have understood this was more than a standard mindworm attack. If that happened then, no matter how good our nanos were, we probably would have failed. Considering how young both of you are, I'm even more impressed.

                          But all good things come to an end. Our mission is over, and we have each been debriefed. The respective Leaders have been given an update, and you are now cleared to communicate home. However, you are only to discuss this topic with approved authorities, and you know who they are. This is serious business, literally life and death.

                          It's been great working with you all, and I'd wager, being a betting man, that we'll work together again. In fact, I have recommended each of you to Paul as prime candidates for further missions, should your faction leaders agree.

                          So, a toast to each of you!"

                          Rider raised his glass again. Alice yelled "Here, here!" again, and slugged down yet another glass of fungal gin.

                          Jay was standing near Jessica. He half turned toward her and said quietly, "You know, it seems like I've know you and everyone else for years! I'm kind of sad we're breaking up."

                          Jess nodded absently, looking toward Alice and Rider, who were now the center of attention. Alice was demanding, loudly, payment for her expert services. Rider was a little confused, and said that was being taken care of. Alice persisted, waving her mug of gin around energetically, sloshing it about. Rider, trying to defuse Alice (he seemed to do that since she was volatile when drunk) said he would do what he could. Alice stopped gesturing and got a funny expression on her face. Then she walked up to Rider, stopped, and then violently planted a wet, ginny kiss on a very surprised Rider.

                          "That was partial payment. Full payment later," she stated enigmatically.

                          With that Kirsten got up with a disgusted look on her face. "You Morganites are all the same! Everything has its price. Money, money, money!"

                          Jess, and even Jay, had to smile at that, now that both of them finally understood a little of Kirsten's oblique sense of humor.

                          "Well kids, I think we should be going," she continued, nodding toward Alice, who was getting very interested in Rider.

                          "My place, for some tea?" she asked.

                          "Sure!" Jay responded, being even more uncomfortable now that Alice was hanging on a rapidly warming Rider.

                          "That's kind of you, Kirsten," Jess added, putting down her nearly empty wineglass and purposefully not looking to her right.

                          "Come on then! Fluff should meet us there."

                          **************************

                          When Kirsten arrived back at her cave, as she called it since it was a 3 by 3 meter nook carved out of the Isle of the Deep, she comm told her she had a message from Sister Miriam. After several hours of celebration, and another couple of hours chatting with Kirsten and Jay and being annoyed by Fluffy, she was dead tired, but a message from Sister Godwinson overrode those petty needs of the flesh.

                          Jess walked over and activated the system, and a small upper torso holo of the diminutive Sister appeared.

                          "Sister Jessica! I am so proud of you! I just received a personal message from Paul, and he explained what you and your team have done, and what this means for our cause! Know that you have been in my thoughts and prayers since you left, and the Lord has blessed us with your success.

                          Paul also mentioned he would be happy to use your services in the trying times ahead, and he even mentioned that he had another mission in mind for you. He said that you have been receiving some Gaian training for your Gift, both of which, I will say, are blessings from God. Paul was fairly insistent, actually, but my priorities lie not with pleasing Paul, but in serving God and I could not, in good conscience, speak for you, Dear.

                          The situation with the Truth Council of the Biblical Tribunal is still…difficult. I have talked to all of them and though some are swayed, there is still not a clear consensus that would clear you of the accusation of witchcraft. You are welcome to return to Great Conclave, but there is a risk that the Truth Council might not side with you, and if they turn their hearts against you there will be a full trial.

                          I trust you Jessica. Your heart is true, and your mind and eyes clear," Miriam leaned forward. "Dear, you must also trust yourself. You are stronger than you think. In the end I can only give advice, but you must listen to what your heart and mind have to say. Your true mission is to serve God in the best way you know how, and I will support you in whatever you chose to do. In the end, you must decide."

                          Miriam leaned back, smiling. "Call me any time, Dear. I know that by serving others I serve God, and if I can serve you in some way then my door is open.

                          Go with Christ,
                          Miriam."

                          The holo winked out, leaving Sister Jessica in something of a quandary. Sister Miriam had clearly given her approval to follow her mind and heart, but what did her mind and heart say? What did she want to do? Return home to Great Conclave to be with her spiritual mentor? Join another Morganite operative team and go on another somewhat terrifying adventure? Or accept Jay's offer to return to Velvetgrass Point to learn from the psi adepts there?

                          Better sleep on it, Jessica thought, remembering she was dead tired. It had been a very long day, and the small rush of excitement from Miriam's holo had faded all too soon. She paced over to her small bed, pulled back the covers, and changed into a light cotton sleeping jumper. She almost let out a sigh of pleasure as she slipped between the clean smelling sheets. As she reclined the lights went out, and in moments she was asleep.

                          ****************

                          The next morning was clear and bright. Jessica took her breakfast ration topside and walked through the strange but now somewhat familiar terrain of the Isle of the Deep. The paths and even roads were well traveled, and Jess munched on her Spartan Energy Bar and a piece of insti-fruit she had grabbed out of the commons bin. Spartan food, she had to admit, was uninspired, but it would undoubtedly last for generations and be fully nutritious.

                          Toward the aft portion of the Isle Jessica found Kirsten in her accustomed spot, looking out to sea. She could hear Jay behind one of the low, greyish hills, evidently having another disagreement with Fluffy.

                          "Hello Jess," Kirsten said, still looking away.

                          "Good morning. Can I have a seat?"

                          "Sure. Help yourself. There's lots of dead worm to go around."

                          "Had breakfast?" Jess asked, offering a spare Energy Bar.

                          Kirsten looked over and saw the bar, and a look of mild pain crossed her face.

                          "Not with that. I've eaten thousands of those nasty things, and it's no more than a chewing exercise. I get constipated if I eat more than a few bites. At my age that is not a pleasant thing. I don't need it anyway."

                          Jess looked over Kirsten's very spare frame and almost disagreed, but decided to drop it.

                          Jessica drew a breath. "I've decided to go with Jay to Velvetgrass Point. I thought you should know."

                          Kirsten turned around, and it looked like the sun has risen on her face.

                          "Really? That's wonderful!" Kirsten exclaimed. Impulsively, Kirsten gave Jess a hug.

                          After a moment Kirsten disengaged. "Well, I'm glad you're coming back with us," Kirsten said. "You don't mind being around us heathens, or even a very lapsed Catholic?"

                          "Not at all," Jess said, not knowing what else to say.

                          "I don't know how long you'll have, but I'd love to show you the Monsoon Jungle. I know that the fungus is not your favorite place, but the Jungle is almost Earthlike. We can stay at my little house at Garden of Paradise, and…"

                          "Hey!" Jay yelled as he jogged over the rise, with Fluffy on his heals. Both Kirsten and Jess turned toward him as he ran toward them.

                          "Fluff just told me you're going to Velv with me! Great news!"

                          Jessica turned toward Kirsten, who put on an innocent face and shrugged. Jess reminded herself that she and Fluffy were probably always communicating to some degree, and that saying something to one was the same as stating it to both. And now that Jay was in the loop, talking to one was like talking to all three.

                          Jess turned back toward Jay. "Yes, I talked to Sister Miriam this morning, and she'll arrange everything. It turns out that Lady Skye is recruiting people with the Gift for her mindworm corps, so she was happy to train someone new. "

                          Jay looked positively ecstatic. "I think you'll LOVE Velv! It isn't as fancy as a PK or Morgan city, but it works better! And we have the best food on Planet! None of that adulterated stuff the Morgans push off, although some of the PK stuff if pretty good. And I bet I can get us to the Manifold Nexus! I've been there twice, and it is truly amazing! Too bad the Aliens seem so hostile, 'cause we could learn so much from them! If you'd like we can explore the fungal fields of Pholus Ridge. What we went through was nothing compared to that!"

                          Jess listened as Jay rattled off all the things he loved about Velvetgrass Point, warming to the idea a little. There must be something good about it to generate that much good will. But then, Jess reflected, she still felt the same way about UN Headquarters, where she grew up. It is highly likely that Velvetgrass Point is nothing like UN Headquarters.

                          Finally, Jay stopped abruptly.

                          A smile grew on his face. "I've GOT to tell Steve about this!"

                          With that he was off, with Fluffy darting ahead of him.

                          "Steve?" Jessica asked Kirsten.

                          "John is his former room mate. You know, one of those popular guys that everyone seems to want to be around. John and Jay's other classmates were taken aback when Fluffy adopted him, and when I didn't eat him alive when he got the guts to come up to introduce himself. They were even more surprised when he was chosen for this mission. My guess is that he is going to tell him that he is going back home with a beautiful woman, and I don't think he would be referring to me," Kirsten stated with a twinkle in her eye.

                          Jessica didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted. After a moment, she decided she was flattered.

                          "Now," Kirsten started, taking Jessica's hand in her wrinkled hands. "Let me tell you about the Eternal City: Paris! It was so beautiful in 2043, even after the North African Racial Riots had torched much of the south side. The Eiffel Tower hadn't been bombed yet, and the Louvre hadn't been looted. I was there in spring, and I was there on a leave from grad school. That's where I met Jed, and we hit it off right away…"

                          Jess tried to imagine what Kirsten described. It sounded so…alien. Another time, another world. As always, Jess was entranced; it sounded like a fairy tale from long, long ago.

                          [This message has been edited by Hydro (edited October 10, 2000).]

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                          • Spires: Ascendant

                            Conquer Marr was bloodied but unbowed. The left side of his thorax under-carapace was torn and his intestinal fluids were hemorrhaging, causing no small amount of discomfort, even for Marr. Two talons on his left hand were shorn and lying somewhere in quadrant three of the Challenge Chamber, and his left leg had a partially crushed exoskeleton, with the damage piercing to his interior skeleton.

                            At his feet was the Challenger, who looked much worse now that Marr had feasted in his body cavity. Bits of gore dripped from Marr's mandibles and from his well used tusks. Blood covered his face, almost as if he had bathed in it, and in a way he had. Feasts were like bathing, since a true Progenitor could not fully participate in the ritual unless you washed yourself in the fruits of success.

                            Marr was above the pain; he was exultant at his victory. Yet another Conqueror was vanquished, as they all had been for the last 200 years. As he rhythmically masticated his food of triumph, savoring the rich tastes and flavors of the heart and liver of the dead Conqueror at his feet, he understood his role, his duty and destiny. He knew it was his role was to lead the Progenitors to victory on Manifold 6, and that is was his duty to prove once and for all the supremacy of the Usurper's philosophy. He would do this and achieve his destiny by exterminating the invader humans that infested Manifold 6, one of the great Progenitor achievements from long ago. Then he would then use Manifold 6 to achieve godhood for himself and his loyal followers. By that time he knew his enemies would be either digesting or be dust.

                            The heady rush of victory altered his perception, and the resonance around him warped and folded, revealing Manifold 6 as a weapon, the ultimate weapon. It would be used to destroy the archaic and blind Caretakers back at Tau Ceti. With it Marr now understood that he would transcend this life and allow the Progenitors to finally achieve unity after billions of years. The cycles of rise and fall, of Flowering destruction and renewal would finally be shattered.

                            Marr looked at the cooling body at his feet and he knew: The weak will be conquered, and the strong will feast on their flesh.

                            Marr relished the war to come, a war of purification. Yet another alien race, these pathetic humans, would join the ranks of those races the Progenitors had consigned into oblivion. And it would happen with a mere stroke of his talons.

                            Two more strokes and the war would begin.

                            Just two more strokes!

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                            • Morgan Industries

                              Paul had entered his apartment and found the shock of his life. Sinder Roze was seated in the position normally occupied by Adee. Or so he thought.

                              “Good evening Paul. Relax, I’m just a hologram, not the real thing. You don’t have to get so tense.” The holographic Roze smiled viciously.

                              “Where’s Adee?”

                              “She’s safe, with me of course.” That same smile remained plastered across her face. “But she won’t be back for a few days. Not until I’ve added my own little upgrades.”

                              “You harm a hair on her head and I’ll kill you, I swear.”

                              “Cute Paul, but, relax. I’m not going to hurt her. Not unless you make me.”

                              “You see,” she began strolling around the room as she spoke, “your security is pretty top notch here. And they happened to pick up some nanite tags on my person, which weren’t supposed to be here. It then came to my attention, that you Paul, are expert with such things.” Paul had swallowed hard, knowing what had set her off.

                              “I don’t happen to like it when my employees,” she stressed that word,” take it upon themselves to keep tabs on me. Now, I assume you know where Data DeCentral is, and although I should have you taken out, your good at what you do and I might need you in future.” Paul gritted his teeth, knowing there was no point in saying anything. Roze couldn’t here what he said, she wasn’t actually there. The holo was just designed to deliver the message, and interact.

                              “Adee will be returned to you,” the holo continued,” once I have added a series of traps to her programming. As long as you behave yourself in your conduct towards me, then you won’t have a problem. But if you piss me off just slightly, or try and disarm the traps yourself, I’ll unleash a virus into the Adee program that’s so violent, you’ll wish you were dead yourself. I hope I make myself clear.” Paul didn’t say anything, but the point was clear.

                              “Adee will be returned to you shortly. In the meantime, I’ve left you a present in the fridge.” The present had been a single black rose, with a note that read: “Remember the Good Times.” Paul had immediately incinerated the entire contents of his refrigerator.


                              Now Paul found himself still trapped with that wretched woman. It had been three days since that night and Adee still hadn’t been returned. Paul had even considered speaking to Morgan, but the CEO was so enraptured by Roze’s ability, that he would probably let such a personal matter slide.

                              Paul had spent the majority of his time avoiding Morgan, busying himself with day to day work, which could have be delegated if he had desired it. However, wherever Morgan went currently, Roze was there too. And Zakharov, Zeta-Five, Zakharov’s flock of teenagers, Reilly. They all worked obsessively on the new resonance armour, hoping to finally break Yang’s weapons. Santiago had lost Deep Community to Yang’s Fleet, and was unwilling to move her fleet against him, for fear of the Resonance bolt.

                              Now they were close, and in a matter of minutes, they were expected to have the final key in nullifying the resonance effect.

                              At that moment, a signal sounded, indicating that a high priority communique was coming in for Morgan. It had been requested that only crucial transmissions were sent through. This had to be big.

                              When Santiago’s image filled the screen, Paul’s suspicion was confirmed.

                              “Greetings CEO Morgan. I trust the experiments are proceeding to your satisfaction?”

                              “Indeed Corazon,” Morgan replied, using the familiar. “We should have our defence against Yang’s weapon shortly.”

                              “Excellent. My people are standing by to upgrade the Southern Fleet once you can inform them of the requirements. If you will excuse my frankness, I need to speak with Datajack Roze.”

                              “What can I do for you Colonel?” Roze said stepping forward.

                              “Sister Miriam has just informed me that we have been successful in infiltrating the Progenitor datalinks. I need you to return to Sparta Command to help analyse the data.” It was clear that this was more of an order than a request.

                              “To be blunt Colonel, I am no historian. However Prime Function Aki Zeta-Five and Provost Zakharov...” Roze was cut off here by an impatient Santiago. The Colonel was unused to having her orders questioned.

                              “I am well aware of the abilities of Zeta-Five and Zakharov,” she said speaking as if she almost didn’t realise they were in the room. However, Roze knew that they were completely visible on Santiago’s viewer. “However, Provost Zakharov does not hold high enough security clearance.”

                              “Colonel.” This time it was Morgan who spoke up. “Let us be reasonable. Roze, Prime Function Zeta-Five and Provost Zakharov stand a much better chance of decyphering what we are up against together, then they do alone. Please let’s not allow old differences to get in the way of our defence plans. We do not know how much time we have left before the offensive begins.”

                              Santiago mulled this over for a bit, clearly angered that her orders were not being expressly followed. Still, Roze and Morgan had clearly presented the best strategy. She could not deny that.

                              “Very well Morgan. However, Provost Zakharov is under your care. Any leak in security will be your responsibility and you will be held accountable. Remember that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have pressing affairs to attend to.” With that Santiago’s image disappeared from the holoscreen.

                              “Some things never change,” quipped Provost Zakharov. Soon though, the Colonel’s message was forgotten, and the testing on the new armour was renewed.

                              Paul had, by this point, sunk back into his chair in disbelief. That meant Roze would be staying here until Santiago had all the information she could glean from the Progenitor datalinks. That could take forever.

                              Roze looked up from her work, and noticed the look of despair on Paul’s face. A broad grin crossed her face. She was staying.
                              -Argo

                              "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

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                              • "Miles, I know you still want me. Make love to me, Miles."

                                I looked at her. She stood by the doorway of the small bedroom attached to the office, and the backlighting from within the bedroom outlined her silhouetted figure at the door. She had excused herself a few minutes before, and had gone to the other room, and now was wearing a transparent synthsilk peignoir that showed off her every curve.

                                Her blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders, and the inviting smile was all that I remembered it to have been.

                                Of course I still wanted her.

                                "Lisa," I gasped breathlessly as I moved towards her and took her into my arms.

                                ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                                When I had filed for flight clearance to Admiralty Base, little did I know what I was getting into. The MorganNews copter identification had been accepted at face value by Aerospace Command at Admiralty, but they had become suspicious when I asked to be met by a marine guard and by the base's ranking officer.

                                "That'll be Colonel Mayberry," had come the comment, and I had failed to put two and two together.

                                My surprise had been palpable when I deplaned on landing and taxi-ing to the secured area, and seen, waiting for me, the familiar figure of Lisa Mayberry, flanked by a phalanx of marines. She had been equally surprised to see me, expecting a Morgan civilian, and even more surprised to receive my cargo. She'd insisted that the Base Governor sat in on the debriefing, and after it had finished, they'd gone off to ponder the implications, and left me to my own devices for a few days, unable to leave the base.

                                Then I'd been summoned to a one-on-one with Lisa, who wanted some of the details I had obviously left out of the formal report. I had gone over the events of that day one more time with her in greater detail, and after she had switched off the holorecorder, had come her invitation to pick up where we had left off those months ago. And now she was a woman who clearly expected to have her way.

                                I had relived the events in the retelling, and now they were difficult to get out of my mind.

                                ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                                "It's them," Anson Taddei said, as the rover turned the corner towards the Manifold Nexus. "It's an old Covert Ops' trick. Rig the copter to look like a Morgan News machine and every base governor is fawning over you to get some publicity on the evening news. Temple of planet is no different, I suspect."

                                I had brought the rover to a stop by the copter and switched off.

                                "Now what?" I asked. "We were lucky to pick up the trail thanks to Kurt's empath abilities, but are we any closer?"

                                "Let me see," Kurt said. "I know Shauna's signature well. I'll try and locate her."

                                Anson and I waited patiently while Kurt tried his broadband empath search.

                                "It's no good," he said. "I'm getting nothing but white noise just like a neural blocker."

                                "I'll bet that's them, Anson said. "Lead on, but be quiet."

                                We entered the vast, ruined complex that was the Manifold Nexus, Kurt in the lead, and Anson bringing up the rear.

                                Suddenly Kurt stopped..

                                "Listen, can you hear that?" he whispered. We strained to hear.

                                "If I'm not mistaken, that's laser fire pinging off superheated rocks and masonry,' Anson said. "Let's investigate."

                                He took the lead, unslinging his primary weapon, and gesturing for us to fall in behind. We gladly did.

                                We went deeper into the complex, and turned a corner in a wide corridor, large enough to accommodate a trio of rovers line abreast, and stopped cold in our tracks.

                                Ahead was a monstrosity of an armored vehicle, raised off the ground and supported by a number of tractor legs, resembling a huge caricature of a spider that we had seen as kids in the Morgan vidtoons.

                                However this was no vidtoon, but rather an awesome fighting machine that was intermittently spitting laser fire just short of an alcove in the corridor wall. The alcove appeared to be empty, but the staccato laser fire just brushed the fringes as if afraid to penetrate the alcove itself.

                                Above I could also detect a glowing, hovering orb, above the mechwarrior machine and between it and the alcove.

                                "An Ogre," breathed Anson. "I'd heard that Yang got several of them from the Aliens, but intelligence reports indicated that they were being used in a purely defensive role to guard the approaches to the rump of his empire and located in bunkers with sensor defences. I wonder what one is doing out here, in Gaian territory?"

                                "Deirdre won't like this one bit," I said.

                                "Unless Angel and Shauna convinced her that this was a Morgan documentary," Kurt offered. "She'd like that. Be falling all over herself to help and make it realistic."

                                "That laser fire is all too realistic," Anson said. "It's pinning something or someone in that alcove, preventing them from coming out. And I'll bet that floating orb is some sort of targeting device. I'm going to take it out."

                                So saying, he raised his shard PWS, targeting through the scope of the personal weapons syatem, and squeezed off a shard. The orb disintegrated into a mass of disconnected molecules, and just as Anson grunted "Got it," Kurt said "Angel and Angelica - they're pinned in that alcove - cloaked - the oprb was the neural dampener we detected earlier."

                                "What of Shauna and Anastasia?" I asked.

                                Kurt paused, then continued:

                                "Gone. Disappeared through the wall of the Nexus, with Scott Allardyce, of all people, and a Progenitor. Angel says there is some sort of alien communications device over by the wall there - see if you can get it and communicate with the crew of this thing.

                                Anson summed up the situation immediately.

                                "I'll draw its fire. Kurt, stay in touch with the women and Miles, you try and reach that communicator and tell the crew of this contraption that we mean them no harm."

                                With that, he aimed at the join of one of the tractor legs and fired. The bolt of pure plasma energy hit, and the armor shielding plates glowed white hot as they deflected and dissipated the energy. But it did draw the Ogre's attention.

                                Swiveling, it fired at the spot where Anson had been just nanoseconds before, but he'd rolled behind some fallen masonry.

                                Angel and her sister used the reprieve to move their position, while at the same time I scrambled over to where the discarded communications device lay.

                                I fumbled with the controls, but eventually activated them, and yelled:

                                "Progenitors. We mean you no harm. We are allies of the Usurpers, from The Hive.

                                The Ogre seemed to pause, then a deep resonating rumble emanated from it.

                                "What's it saying?" bellowed Anson.

                                I tried to make sense of the squeakings and emissions coming from the translator.

                                "Something about - Usurpers not….. with Kri'lan. Must be a different faction - the Kri'lans or something."

                                Angel swore softly under her breath.

                                "Take it out," she commanded, the disembodied voice appearing as if from nowhere.

                                "Not that easy," Anson replied. "My plasma shard weapon has little effect on its hull. It'll be dangerous, but let me see if I can get in closer and disable it somehow. Keep them talking, Miles."

                                I continued talking to the crew, using the communications device, and getting more adept as we went on.

                                "What do you want?" I asked them. "You are cornered here, and can't hope to get away. Are you a suicide mission of some sort?"

                                "No, we came with Kri'lan, who has fled with your ambassador. We want to be reunited with him."

                                Anson was underneath the body of the Ogre now, inspecting the security locks. They were utterly alien to him.

                                "Useless," he said. "Offer them safe passage to this Kri'lan boss, and see what it would take to pry this machine from them."

                                I dickered with the crew, and gave their reply.

                                "They want safe custody to Kri'lan, and they'll turn over the Ogre to us in exchange, plus enough energy credits for them and Kri'lan to live off - they suggest 100 would suffice."

                                "Heck, I haven't got access to that kind of credit," Anson replied. "have you?"

                                "Nope,' I replied. "Kurt?"

                                "Hardly," he said. "We're stymied. Now what?"

                                "I can," said Angel unexpectedly. "I have access to Circle funds up to eighty credits. See if they will accept that."

                                "Indeed they will," I replied, after another round of bargaining.

                                "For eighty they will give you the Ogre and the codes, in return for safe passage to the monolith just outside Velvetgrass Point - that's where this Kri'lan character was headed. But how do we get this Ogre contraption out of here unobtrusively?"

                                "The copter," Angel said. "It's a transport. But it won't hold the Ogre plus all of us."

                                "You're certified, aren't you?" Anson asked me. I nodded.

                                "Then you load up the Ogre and its crew and take the copter to Deirdre. We'll collect the rover and go back overland. Meet back at Covert Ops HQ in a month?"

                                "OK," I replied, eying the copter. As I had suspected, it was the latest - Fusion powered - only the best for the Circle - and had the long range ionized deuterium pods fitted.

                                The crew moved the Ogre to the loading bay, where it proved a tight fit indeed, but was safely installed. They joined me in the cabin, with the communications translator.

                                I activated the controls of the copter, and as we climbed I waved to the four operatives making their way back to where we had stashed the rover.

                                I turned to the two progenitors.

                                "Velvetgrass Point, eh?" I asked. "Do you know the way?"

                                They both lowered their tusks in shame. No, they did not.

                                "Well luckily I do," I said cheerfully, and set the course for Admiralty Base.

                                ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++

                                Lisa was astride me, her back arched and her long blonde hair brushing my knees as I lay on my back beneath her. Her taut breasts were thrust upward and her nipples erect as we moved in rhythm, the beads of sweat forming and dripping from them on to my chest where they mingled with mine to form small rivulets.

                                I felt the long forgotten sensations as I entered the empath trance and suddenly was swept on a current of sensory and mental overload and feeling that permeated my mind, my very being. The faint resonance that I had detected from time to time swelled into a full song of eerily compulsive heart wrenching possessiveness of me in a way I had never experienced before.

                                Then I heard it.

                                EarthMiles……………. EarthMiles……………

                                "What do you want?" I said to the darkness - to the music.

                                Come join with us, EarthMiles. You are one of us. Come join with us…………

                                Then a harsh imperative intervened:

                                No. No, Miles. Don't listen to that insidious invitation.

                                Join with us, with the true Empaths of Chiron. Come to us. The crisis is deepening, and the various sides in the coming battle are assuming their formation. We empaths have a role to play and I am summoning them.

                                Come to the Keep south of Sparta Command. This is where the decisive battle will be fought. Chiron needs you. I need you.


                                "And who or what are you?" I asked.

                                I hold Planet's destiny in my hands. Rather, in my head. I am Catherine Atreus. I am the Planetmind.


                                [This message has been edited by Rynn: (edited October 17, 2000).]

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